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COrorOTED BY EICHAED A. PEOCTOR.- ^

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Let Knowledge grow feom more to moke." — Tennyson.

VOLUME X.

NOVEMBER 1886 to OCTOBEE 1887.

NEW S E E I E S.

Vol. II

>

^^j

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LONDON:
LONGMANS, G-EEEN AND CO.

AND NEW YORK : 15 EAST 16"> STREET.
1887.

All rights reserved.

PKINTED BY

SPOTTffWOODE ASD CO,, NEW-STREET SQUARE

LOSDOX

<s.

INDEX TO VOLUME X.

NEW SERIES.— Volume II.

a-E]3srEi^.A.i-..

Allen, Grant, the complexity of thiug?, 121 ; on
natural selection, 98; and th,e Saturday Review
critic, note on, 19

Alpenstock puzzle, the (illustrated), 153

America, civil war in, 346 ; earthquake in, 1 ; another
foretold, note^ on, 18 ; oil stories of, 175 ; how
Englislitnea view, 234

America's growtb (illustrated), 128

American astronomers and lar^e telescopes, notes on,
209

*' American Cyclopneiia," Mr. Proctor's contributions to
the, note on, 210

American home, our eiitor's, a"tronomy at, 88

Aoaericin mistake, note on a curious, 91

Americanisms, 14, 38, 113, 183, 230, 274 ; Saturday
Review and, notes on, 41, 66

Americans, how, view England, 233

Ancient solar festivals, 150

Angle, trisectin? the, note on, 116

"Ann Us" of Tacitus, the authenticity of, notes on,
162, 163

Antarea : astronomy at our editor's American home, 8S

Anthropology and the antiquity of man, note on, 42

April, the face of the sky for, 144 ; the southern
night skies in. 105. 133, 154

Archajology and the antiquity of man, note on, 42

Arts, useful, the evolution of, 222

Astronomy at our clitnr's American home, 83 ; his
forthcoming work on general astronomy, uotes ou,
210, 282 ; author ot articles on astronomy and
meteorology in American cyclopedia, 210

Atlas, a one-scaled : southern index map, 34 ; map i.,
North Polar regions, 58; mapii., 88, 106 ; mipiii.,
134; map iv., 155; map v., 181; map vi., 210,
224; map vii., 250; map viii., 271; a uniform
(UlU3trated), 8; public schools, 114

August, the fac? of the sky for, 238; the southern
night skies in, 197, 225, 251

Augustine, St., notes on, 66

Bacon" and Science, 217

Balliu, Ada S. : evolution of language ; roots and
their development. 54; the origin oE, 129

Baseball, cricket and, 207

Baseball play, curves in (illustrated), 254

Beasts, the juniority of, 123

Beech and Hanlan, notes on, 19

Beecher, Henry Ward, his wild youth's tax on life,
147 ; the Saturday R^vietn on, 159

Bekker's view of Tacitus, not? on, 162

Benvolio : improving Shakespeare, 226 ; note on, 282

Bethlehem, the star of, 194 ; note on, 235

Bible and the solar system, note on, 91

Biology and the antiquity of man, note on, 42

Blackburnc's skill as a chess-player, a few examples
of (illustrated), 47

Blanket-fish, the, 270

Blasphemy and Mr. Talraage, note on, 43

Boscawen, W. St. Chad, ancient solar festivals, 150

Boss, Mr., anil tlie comet of 18S2, notes ou, 138

British association, evolutionary philosophy at the
Birmingham meeting, note on, 42

Brown, Alfred, his theory of trisecting tlie angle, note
on, 116

Butler, E. A., on clothes-moths and their alUes (illus-
trated), 177

Butler, Rev. George, public schools atlas, 119

Oarlislb, the bishop of, note on, 43
Chances, strange, 276

Charts for great circle sailing (illustrated), 193, 199
Chess, Knight's tour at, note on, 116
Obess Column, our :
Alternating games, 287

Blackburne's skill, a few examples of, 47
Blackburne v. Zukertort, 214
British chess club tournament, 191
" Ohess problem," the, 165
Drawn games, 23
End games, useful, 95
End-games for actual play, 120
Endings for actual play, 239
International chess congress, 165
International chess tournament, 262
Problem, an old, 72

Vicissitudes of pawn and two openings, 142
Christi'tn, the, on Sir William Dawson aud evolutionary

philosophy, notes on, 42, 43
Christian \Vorld, the, its attack ou evolution, notes on,

115
Christianity and Tacitus, notes ou, 162 ; the beginning
of, 49. (notes in reply to criticisms on) 137 ; birth
and growth of, 158
Circle, great, sailing. 101 ; charts for, 193, 199
Civil war, the, in America, 246
Clodd, Edward, on Air. Pro::tor'3 family afflictions,

notes on, 189
Clodd, Edward : the story of creation, a plain
account of evolution, part ii. : explanatory, 27 ;
life, .and life-forms, the origin of, 51, 74 ; species,
the origin of, 97, 145 ; derivation of. facts in sup-
port of, 173. 219 ; social evolution, 220, 24:S ;
summary, 245. See also "Evolution: a plain
account of"
Ciothe5-moths ami their allies (Ulustrated), 177
Cloudberry, the, 25
Clouds, height of, 26S
Coal. 2. 54. 99, (illustrated) 143, 222 '
Columbus, the voyages of. charted (illustrated), 202
Comets, and meteors, origin of, 64; the new, 135;

notes on, 133
Comets, tails, note on, 257
Competitions, prize, 122 ; note on, 139
Complexity of things, the, 121
Copernicus, a life of, note on, 91
Corrc-iponilc'ut, an enigmatical, note on. 42, 91
Corr..!sp indents' soul-bnsiuess, note ou, 117
Creation, evolution and, notes on, 115
Creation, the story of : explanatory, 27 ; life, and life-
forms, the origin of, 51, 74; social evolution, 220,
243 ; species, the origin of, 97, 145 ; species, deri-
vation of, facts in support of, 173, 219 ; summary,
245. See also *' Evolution : a plain account of "
Orichton, " Admirable." note on, 257
Cricket, and baseball, 207; "perfect innings" at: a
chance problem, 352 ; double-figure innings, notes
on, 18
Critics, anonymous, ignorance of, notes on, 66
Curves in baseball play (illustrated), 254

Darwinism, Sir Wm. Dawson's antipathy to, note on, 42
Dawn, Indian myths about, 52
Dawson, Oswald : the juniority of beasts, 123
December, the face of the sky for, 48 ; the southern

night skies in, 35
Dissecting dish, the, for the naturalist's laboratory

(illustrated), 278
" Don't," 185

Earth, evolution of, 28

Earth's globe, varying aspect of the (illustrated), 279

Earthquake, the, in America, 1; another foretold,

notes on, 18 ; a correction, 66
Eclipse, solar, the recent total, 4
Egyptian belief and Christianity, notes on, 162, 163
Electric Ught, its use in naturalist's laboratory, 17
Energy, force and, 196

England, how Americans view, 233 ; the letter "H " in,
156; the southern skies in. See "Skies, the
southern night "

English, old, notes on, 66, 67

Englishmen, how they view America, 234

Entomology : clothes-moths and their allies (illus-
trated), 177

Ethical religion, the three classes of, note on, 43

Ethnology and the antiquity of man, cote on, 42

Evolution, the Christian on Sir Wm. Dawson and,
notes ou, 42, 43 ; the Christian W^orkVs attack,
notes on, 115 ; Mr. Talmage on, notes on, 43

Evolution, a plain account of : of arts, 222 ; of the
earth, 28 ; inorganic, 27 ; of language, 222 ; of
mind, 220 ; of morals, 243 ; of sciences, 222 ;
social, 220 ; of society, 220 ; of the solar system,
2S ; of the stellar system, 27 ; of theology, 243.
See also " Creation, the story of"

Evolution of language : roots and their development
54 ; the origin of roots, 129

Evolutionary philosophy, notes on, 42, 43

Faroar, Canon, ou Josephus and the life of Christ,

note on, 137
Febi-uary, the face of the sky for, 94 ; the southern

night skies in. 35, 86, 105
"Fellow of the Royal Astronomical Society": sky,

face of the, Nov., 24 ; Dec, 48 ; Jan., 70 ; Feb., 94 ;

March, 118; April, 144 ; May, 168; June, 191;

July, 216 ; Aug., 238 ; Sept., 261 ; Oct,, 286
Festivals, ancient solar, 150 ; religions, astronomy and,

notes on, 91
Fifteen, the, schoolgirl's puzzle, 11, 88
Fif-e- worship, 269
Fish, the blanket-, 270
" Five of Clubs" : our whist column, 22, 48, 71, 96,

119,143,167,189,213 238,263,287; a whist super-
stition, 57, (dispelled) 81
*' Flatland, wail from," note on a, 116
Force and energy, 196
Eraser, Mr. J., notes on his *' Mystery of (Gravity," 282.

See also "Reviews"
Furniture, laboratory, 60, 80

GAMBLisa systems, sure (?) ; or, martingales, 29

Games, drawn, in chess (illustrated), 23

Garbett, B. L., on the prison cell and the Josephus

puzzles, notes on, 115, 116
Gas lamps and burners for naturalist's laboratory, 16
Gladstone, Mr., refutations of his theories on Genesis

123
Gospels, the, notes on the authorship of, 137
Gossip, 18, 41, m, 91, 115, 137, 162, 188, 209, 235, 256
" Gravity, tlip Mystery of," notes on Mr. J. Fraser's

and Mr. Kedzie's books, 282. See also " Reviews"
Great circle sailing, 100 ; charts for, 198, 199
Guillemin's heavens, note on, 183

" n," the letter, in England, 15G

Haggard, II. Rider, notes on his novels, 235 ; note ou

Peter Wilkins, 282
Hall. Prof. Asaph, and Mr. Proctor, notes on, 210
Hanlan and Beech, notes on, 19
Henry, MM. : photographs of double stars and star

clusters (illustrated), 76
History and the antiquity of man, note on, 42
Holden, Prof., and Mr. Proctor, notes on, 210
Honeycomb cell-ends, problems of (illustrated), 152 ;

an odd coincidence in connection with, note ou

163
Human life, 265
Hutchinson, Dr. R F. : clouds, height of, 268 ; magic

mirror, the Japanese, 186
Huxley's science and morals, note ou, 67

IV

♦ KNO^VLEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

GEyEnA.L — continued.
TxDiAX myths : dawn, 52 ; thunder, 32

Javes, Lewis G. : his work on the birth and growth of

Cbristinnity, 158
January, the face of thesby for, 70 ; the sonthern night

skies ill. 6, 35. 86
Japanese, the, masic mirror (illustrated), ISG, 207
Josephus and the life of Christ, notes ou, 137
Josephus pnzzle, notes on, 115, 116
Josephus question, notes on, 43
Jubilee Jeremiad, Tennyson's, 73
Julv, the face of the sky for, 216 ; the southern night,

skies in. ISD. 197. 225
June, face of the sky for, 191 ; the southern night,

skies in, 154, 180, 197
Juniority of beasts, the, 123

Kedzte, Mr. : notes on his book on gravity, 282
King Arthur's court, a Yankee at, 64
Ksowi,EDOE. the conduct of, note on, 116 ;

Qodd on the, 189 ; corrections for, 282
Krishna, Jezeus, notes on, 42, 91

Mr.

Laboratory, the naturalist's, 16, 50. fillastrated) 80,

160 ; furniture. 60 ; requisites (illustrated), 278
Lansuage. evolution of : roots and their development*

54 ; the origin of roots, 129
Languages, origin of, 201
Latin and Greek quotations, notes on, 257
Lecturer, Mr. Proctor as a, note on an unpleasant

experience, 258
Letter ''H" in England, 156
Lick, the great, telescope. 203 ; notes on objections to

Mr. Proctor's article, 209. 210
Life, human, 265 ; wild youth's tax on, 147
Life-forms, the origin of, 74
Light and dense matter, notes on, 42
Lilly, Mr. : his criticism of Prof. Huxley's " Science

and Morals," nnte on. 67
*' Locksley Hall," 73 ; note on, 92
Lockyer, J. N. : the Tn/i^i record of "Science iu 1886,"

note on, 115
Lottery, tbe Louisiana, 160
Luck, the Sa!urday Review on, 228 ; notes on, 256, 257

Magic mirror, the Japanese (illustrated), 186, 207

Man in the moon. 273

Man, the antiquity of, notes on, 42

Maps and charts. See " Atla'', a one-scaled ; "
" Columbu?, voyages of, charted ; " and *' Skies,
southern night, the "
March, the face of the ?ky for, 118 ; the southern night
skies in, 62. 86, 105. 133

Martingales ; or sure (?) gambling systems, 29

Mastiff, wolf, and spaniel, 2-il

Mathematical recreations, 10, 132. 153 ; note on, 189.
See al=o " Puzzles, our "

Mathematics and science, notes on, 257

M«tliew-i on whist, 22. 71, 167, 238, 287

Matter, notes on, 42, 188

Mas Mdller, P. : his science of thought. 187

May, mathematical recreations for, 153 ; the face of
the skv for, 168 ; the southern night skies in, 133,
154,180

Measurement, minute (illustrated). 78, 109

" Mephisto ": our chess column, 23, 47, 72, 95, 120, 142,
165,191, 214, 239, 262, 287

Meteorology : Mr. Proctor's contributions in ''American
CycIopaBtUa," 210

Meteors, Professors Young and Newton and the origin
of, note on, 116 ; and comets, origin of, 64

Microscope, pleasant hours with the (illustrated), 107,
267

Mind, evolution of, 220

Minute measurement (illustrated), 78, 109

Mirror, the Japanese magic (illustrated), 186, 207

Misdeals, singletons, and shufflings, notes on, 188

Mistakes, notes on, 138

Modesty, mock, notes on, 235, 236

Moon, the man in the, 273

Morals, evolution of, 243

Moths, clothes-, and their allies, 177

Mountains, the origin of, 136

Museum bottles for the naturalist's laboratory (illus-
trated), 279

Myths: Indian* about dawn, 52 ; Indian, about thun-
der, 32 ; man in the moon, 273 ; night and winter,
112, 125 ; the wild winds, 182 ; wind, 232

Naturaltst's laboratory, the, 16, 59, (illustrated) 80,

160. (requisites) 278
Newton, Prof., and the origin of meteors, note on, 115
Night and winter, myths of, 112, 125
Night skies, the southern. See " Skiei, southern night,

the"
Noble, Capt. W., his studies with a small telescope, 166
North Polar regions, on the equidistant projection

(illustrated), 58
November, the face of the sky for, 24 ; the southern

night skies in, 272

October, tlie face of the aky for, 286 ; the southern
night skies in, 251, 272

Oil stores, the, of America, 175

Oranges and the honeycomb cell-ends problem, an odd

coincidence in connection with, note on, 163
Origin of lang\iages, 20i
Origin of mountains, the, 136

Paleontology and the antiquity" of man, note on.
42

Paley and the "Annals" of Tacitus, notes on, 162

Pans, preserving and macerating, for the naturalist's
laboratory, 278

Parnell, J., on the Japanese magic mirror. 207

Pattison, S. R., his theory of creation and evolution,
notes on. 115

Philology and the antiquity of man, note on. 42

Pleasant hours with the microscope (illustrated), 107,
267

Poems, Shakespeare's, 169

Polar, north, regions, 58

Prison-cell puzzle, notes on, 43, 92, 115, 116

Prize competitions, 122 ; note on, 139

Proctor, Richard A. : Allen, Mr. Grant, and the
Sifunlau Review, note on, 19 ; American astrono-
mers and large telescopes, notes ou, 209; "American
Cyclopedia." contributionsto, noteon, 210; Ameri-
cau mistake, note on a curious, 91 ; Americanisms,
14, 38, 113, 183, 230, 274 ; notes on the Sa'urday
Ri'vitno criticisms of, 41, 66 ; Angle, trisecting the,
note on, 116 ; Astronomy at hi* American
home, 88 ; Astronomy, his forthcoming work
on general, note on. 210, 282 ; Atlas, the one-scale,
34, 58, 88, 106. 134, 155, 181, 210, 224, 250 ; Augiis-
tine. St., notes on. 66 ; Bekker's view of Tacitus,
notes on, 162; Bafehall, curves in, play, 254;
Blauket-fish, the, 270 ; Carlisle, the Bishop of,
notes on, 43 ; Chances, strange, 278 ; Chess,
Knight's tour at, note ou, 116 ; Christianity and
the "Annals" of Tacitus, notes on, 162; Chris-
tianity, the beginning nf, 49 (notes in reply to
criticisms on, 137) ; Columbus, the voyages of,
charted, 202 ; Comets and meteors, origin of, G4 ;
Comets, the new, 135 ; Comets, notes on, 138 ;
Comets' tails, note on, 257; Copernicas, a life of,
note on, 91 ; Correspondent, an enigmatical, note
on, 42, 91 ; Creation and Evolution, the Chrisfiot
World on, notes ou, 115 ; Crichton, " Admirablp,"
note on, 257; Cricket, notes on double-figare
innings, 18,19; Cricket, a "perfect innings" at,
252; Cricket and baseball, 207; Critics, anony-
mous, notes on. 66 ; Earthquakes, a correction,
notes on, 66 ; Earthquake predictions, notes on,
18; Egyptian belief and Christianity, notes ou,
162,163; English, old, notes on, 66, 67; Ethical
religion, note on, 13 ; Evolut'onary philosophy,
notes on, 42, 43 ; " Flattand, a wail from," note on,
116; Gospels, the authorship of, notes on. 137;
Gossip. 18, 41, 66, 91, 115, 137, 162, 188, 209,235,
256,282; Gravity, note on a work on, 282; Great
circle sailing, 100, (charts for) 19S. 199 ; Guille-
miu's heavens, note ou, 188 ; Haggard, Mr.
Rider, novels, notes on, 235, 2S2 ; Honeycomb
cell-ends problem, an odd coincidence iu connec-
tion with, note on. 163 ; Human life, 266 ; "Jose-
phus question," notes on. 43 ; Josephus and the
life of Christ, notes on. 137 ; Kxowledge, note on
the " get up '' of, 116; Kvowled(}e. note, by Mr.
Clodd, on the conduct of, 189 ; " Krishna Jezeus,"
notes on, 42, 91 ; Latin and Greek quotations, note
ou, 257 ; Lecturer, note on an unpleasant experi-
ence as a, 25S ; Louisiana lottery, the, 160 ; Luok,
notes on, 256, 257 ; Man, antiquity of, science
and the, notes on, 42 ; Mathematics and
science, notes on, 257 ; Matter, notes on, 42,
188; Meteors, the origin of, note on, 115; Mis-
deals, siugletons, and i^hufflings, notes on, 188 ;
Mistakes and their correction, notes on. 138 ;
Mock modesty, notes on, 235, 236 ; Pa'ey and
Tacitus, notes on, 163 ; Prison-cell puzzle, notes
on 43, 92, 115, 116 ; Prize competitions, 122, (note
on) 139 ; Punch, on a recent controvei^y, note on,
139 ; Puzzles, our, note on, 19 ; Quartndeciman
controversy, notes on, 137 ; Religion and the un-
known, 193 ; Religious festivals and astronomy,
notes ou, 91 ; Ross, Col. Horatio, notes on, 92 ;
Rowing, notes on, 19 ; St. Joseph, notes on, 258;
Sfiturdaij R-vi<^ir, the, on luck, 228 ; Science and
morals, note on Prof. Huxley's article, 67 ; " Science
in 1386," note on the Tirnes record of, 115;
Sorapis, the worshippers of, note on, 163 ; Shake-
speare,improviog.noteon, 282; Skies, the southern
night, 6, 35, 62, 86, 105, 133, 154, 180, 197, 225,
251, 272 ; Socrates and the cross, note on, 163 ;
Soul-business correspondents, note on, 117; Star
of Bethlehem, 194 (note on), 235; Sun's motion
in space, note on, 91 ; Symmetrical figure, note on
a, 116 ; Talmage, Mr., on evolution, notes on, 43 ;
Telescope, the great Lick, 205, (note on) 209 ;
Theology and science, notes ou, 18 ; West Indian
seal, note on, 139 ; Whist, note on a *' Yarborough,"
19; good hands at, 'note on, 115; Whist -players,
the sixteen, note on a solution, 91 ; Whist pro-
blem, a, 213 ; Wolf, mastiff, and spaniel, 241
Public Schools Atlas, 114
Punch, on a recent controversy, note on, 139
Pozzies, our, their solutions, and notes concerning : 9,
39, (the whist player's) 40,60,61,83,108,109, 130,
132, 151, 153,186; nineteen trees, the, 9, (note
on) 19, 39, 92; prison ceU, the, 43, 92, 115, 116 ;

schoolgirl's, the, 11, IS, 83. See also " Mathematical
recreations "
Pyramid, building a triangalar (illustrated), 151

QUARTODECiMAN controversy, note? on the, 137

Rkade, M., his work on the origin of mountauis, 136
Recreations, mathematical, 10, 132, 153; note on, 189.

See also " Puzzle?, our"
Referee, the, and Mr. Proctor on rowing, note on, 19
Religion, and the Unknown, 193; etliical, the three

classes of. note on, 43 ; science and, 171
Religious festivals and astronomv, notes on, 91
Reviews, 19, 44, 67, 92, 117, 139, 163, 189, 210, 236, 258,

282
Ross, Colonel Horatio, notes on, 92
Rowing, notes on, 19

St. Josetii, mock modesty at, notes on, 235

St. Joseph, notes on, 258

Safurdat/ R<^rieir, the, and Mr. Grant Allen, note on,
19 ; and Americanisms, notes on, 41 ; its criticisms,
notes on, 66 ; on Beecher, 159 ; on lack, 228

Schoolgirl's puzzle, the fifteen, 11, S8

Science, and the antiquity of man, notes on, 42; and
mathematics, notes on, 257 ; and morals, note on
Prof. Huxley's article, 67; and religion, 171 ; and
theology, notes on, 18 ; Bacon and, 217 ; concise
expression in, 82 ; iu 1886, the Times record of,
note on, 115 ; of thought, the, 187

Seal, West Indian (Monachus tropica), recent discovery
of, note on, 139

September, the face of the sky for, 261 ; the Southern
night skies in, 225, 251, 272

Serapis, the worshippers of, note on, 163

Shakespeare, improving, 226 ; note on, 282

Shakespeare's poems, lt)9 ; sonnet s, 247

Skies, Southern night, the (illustrated): Jan., 6, 35,
86 ; Feb., 35,86,105 ; March, 62, 86 105, 133 ; April,
105, 133, 154 ; May, 133, 154, 180 ; June, 154, 180,
197 ; Jnly, 180, 197, 225 ; Aug.. 197, 225, 251 :
Sept., 225, 251, 272; Oct., 251, 272; Nov., 272 ;
Dec, 35

Sky. face of the : Nov., 24 ; Dec, 48 ; Jan.. 70 ; Feb.,
94 ; March, 118 ; April, 144 ; May, 168 ; Jane, 19L ;
July, 216 ; Aug.. 238 ; Sept., 261 ; Oct., 286

Slack, Henry J , on freaks of the wind, 195 ; pleasant
hours with the microscope (illustrated), 107, 267

Smith, Prof. P.. and the comet of 1882, notes ou. 138

Socrates and the symbol of the cross, note on, 163

Solar eclipse, the recent total, 4

Solar festivals, ancient, 150

Solar system, and the Bible, note ou, 91 ; evolution of ,
28 ; Herr Kovesligethy's theory, note on, 91

Soul-busiuess correspondents, note on, 117

Southern hemisphere, the night skies in. See *' Skies
the Southern night "

Spaniel, mastiff, wolf and, 241

Species, the origin of, 97

Star, the, of Bethlehem, 194 ; note on the, 235

Star clustei-s, double stars and, photographs of (illus-
trated), 76

Stars: Gemini, the great cluster in, 76; Vega and its
companions, 77 ; Ep^ilon Lyne, tin group. 77 ;
Mizar, the double star, path of, 77 ; k Bootis, 58
Corvi, and y Virginis, the doable, paths of, 77

Stars of the Southern skies. See " Skies, Southern
night, the "

" Stella Occidens" : myths : Indian, about dawn, 52 ;
Indian, about thundt-r, 32 ; man in the moon, 273 ;
night and winter, 112, 125 ; the wild winds, 182 ;
wind, 233

Stellar system, evolution of, 27

Strange chances, 276

Studies with a small telescope, 156

Sun, birth of the, 15 ; interior of the, 255 ; its motion
in space, noteon, 91

Surnames, familiar, note on, 282

Symmetrical figure, note on a, 116

Tacitus on Christianity, notes on, 162

Talmage, Mr., on the survival of the fittest, notes on,
43

Telescope, studies with a small. 156 ; the great Lick,
205 ; note on American astronomers and the, 209

Tennvson's jubilee Jeremiad, 73 ; Locksley Hall, note
on, 92

Theology and science, notes on, 18 ; evolution of, 244

Thomas, W. Cave : concise expression in scieuce, 82

Thought, the science of, 187

Thunder, Indian myths about, 32

Trees, the nineteen puzzle, 9 ; solution, note on (illus-
trated), 92

Twain, Mark : Yankee, a, at King Arthur's court, 64

UsK.s'OWN, religion and the, 193

Volcanoes, past and present, 84

Voyages of Columbus, the, oharted (Illustrated), 202

West Indian seal (Monachus tropica), recent discovery
of, note on, 139

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

General— co;(/i«uf(2.
Whist Colttmn, our :

Discard, the, in its suit directive aspect, 263
mu?trative games, 143, 189
Illustrative band from the Atisiralaxian, 48, 9S
Mathews on whist. 22, 48, 76, 119, 167, 233, 287
Whist problem, 213
"Whist, poor hands at, note on, llii ; note on a " Yar-
borough," 19 ; superstition, a, 57 ; dispelled, 81

Whist -players' pnzzU, the, 40 ; note on a solution, 91
Wild West, the, and how Englishmen view America,

231
Wild wind?, the, 182
Wild youth's tax ou life, 147
Wilkins, Peter, note on the familiai-, 282
Williaois, W. Mattieu : coal, 2, 54, 99, (illustrated) 148,

222
Wind, freaks of the, 195

Wind myths, 232
Winds, the wild, 182
Winter, mrthsof. 112, 12')
Wolf, mastiff, and spaniel, 241

Yankee, a, at Kin^ Arthur's court, 64
" Yarborough," note on, 19

Young, Prof.: and the origin of meteors, note on, 115 ;
and Mr. Proctor's criticism, note on, 209

I^IE^IE^AT'S.

AcoCSTlcs, handbook of, by T. F. Harris, 6S

Adams, Rev. H. C. : Charlie Lucken at school and

college, 69
Africa, South, history of the Boers in, by George McCall

Theal, 283
Alaska and the Seal Islands. See "Arctic province, an "
Alexander's empire, by J. P. Mahaffy and Arthur

Gillman. 189
AJgebra, the junior student's, by Ales. Wilson, 21
Alpine winter in its medical aspect, by A. Tucker, 261
Ambulance work, illustrated lectures on, by K. Lawton

Roberts, 68
Analysis, quantitative, outlines of, by A. Humboldt

Sexton, 283
Anarchy and law, the theories of a midnisfht debate,

by H. B. Brewster, 283
Ancient cities, the, of the new world, by Desir6

Chamay, 211
Anderson, J. H. : the public school of chemistry, 118
Andrew. H. J. C. : the chess problem, 165
Animal biology, by C. Lloyd Miirgan, 2S6
Animals, the geological and geographical distribution

of, by Prof. A. Heilprin, 164
Arawiyah, Al : tales of the c;\Uph, 140
Arcady : for better for worse, by Dr. A. Jessopp 211
Arctic province, an : Alaska and the S^al Islands, by

H. W. Elliott, 139
Arithmetic, the, of electrical measurement, by W. R. P.

Hol.bs, 141
Artists, the, manual of pigments, by H. C. Standage,

165
Asclepiad, by Dr. Richardson, 165
Ashton, John : the dawn of the nineteenth century in

England, 20
Astronomes, liste g<^n6rale des observatoires et des,

des soct6te3 et des revues astronomiquea, par A.

L^mcaster, 45
Astronomy, a new theory of, 21
" Atelier du lys," works by the author of, 23
Atlas : jubilee, 94 ; public schools, by Rev. Ge'Drge

Butler, 114: of the world, Philip's handy-volume,

by J. Francon Williams. 236
Australia, a naturalist's holiday in. See " Our Island

Continent "
Australiana ; or my early life, by Richmond Henty, 94
AjTton, W. E. : practical electricity, 213

Baij>n"ESS and ringworm, lecture on, by James

Startin, 285
Ball, J. : notes of a naturalist in South America, 211
Basque people, legends and popular tales of the, by

Mariana Monteiro, 69
Bax, Ernest Belfort: the religion of Socialism, 269
Bennett, H. M. : all round the clock, 94
Bert, Paul: first year of scientific knowledge, 92
Bettauy, G. T.: life of Darwiu, 211
Bible, the, and the a?e, by Cuthbert Colling^vood, 237
Biblioth6que Echnologique, la, par it. de Qaatre-

fages, 93
Biology, animal, bv C. Lloyd Morgan, 285
Black and White, 285

Blagrove, George H.: shoring and its application, 189
Blood covenant, the : a primitive rite and its bearings

on Scripture, by H. Clay Trumbull, 212
Boers in South Airica, history of the, by George

McCall Thaal, 283
Bonwick, James : romance of the wool trade, 259
Books and bookmen, by Andrew Lang, 141
Books, modern method? of illustrating. 117
Boomerang, Old : a flood that led to fortune, 69
Boys and masters, by A. H. Gilkes, 284
Boy's own stories, by Ascott R. Hope, 46
Brabazon, Lord : social arrows, 213
Bram, the functions of the, by David Ferrier, 117
Brewster, H. B. : the theories of anarchy and law ; a

midnight debate, 283
Bristowe, John S , Henry Power, and George P. Field :

management of the eye, ear, and throat, 284
British fungi, an elementary text-book of, by W.

Delisle Hay, 141
British petrography, by Harris Teall, 21, 46, 94

British stalk-eyed cnistacea and spiders, by F. A. A.

Skuse, 237
Britten, P. J. : Watch and Clock Maker's Handbook, 63
Brown, J. A. : paleolithic man in N.-W. MiiMlesex, 210
Buckland, Miss : story of English literature, 46
Busk, Miss R. H. : the folk-songs of Italy, 140
Butler, Edward A. : pond life — insects, 92
Butler, Rev. Geo. : puolic schools atlas, 114
Butler, Samuel : luck or cunning ? 69

Caddy, Mr.^. F. : through the fields witli Linnreus, 164
Cfesar : a sketch, br J. A. Froud^, 46
Caliph, tales of the, by Al Arawiyah. 140
Carey, John : Greek verbs in a fortnight, 282
Carlyle, national lessons from the life and works of,

by Alfred Francison, 118
Carnegie, Andrew : triumphant democracy ; or, fifty

years' march of tie Republic, 125
Carpenter, Edward : England's ideal, &;.. 284
Carpentry and joinery, circular work in. G. Collins, 67
Carr, G. S. : a synopsis of elementary results in pure

mathematics, 260
Carthage. See '■ Nations, the story of the "
Cassell's works : combination test cards. 238 ; Latin-
English dictionary, by J. R. V, Marchant, 237 ;
nitionvil library : Dickens' Christmas carol and
chimes, 94; public school French raader, by
Guillaume S. Conrad, 68
Celestial motions : a handbook o£ astronomy, by

William Tbynne Lvnn, 141
Charlie Lucken at school and college, by Rev. H. C.

Adams, 69
Chaniay, Desir^ : the ancient cities of the New

Worid, 211
Chemistry, papers in inorganic, with numerical

answers, by G. E. R. Ellis, 21
Chemistry, the, of wheat, flour, and bread, by William

Jago, 46
Chemistry, the public school, by J. H. Anderson, 118
Chess problem, the, by H. J. C. Audrewii, 165
Chisholm, G. G. : Longman's school geography, 20
Christianity primitive, by Lewis G. Janes. 158
Christmas roses ; and under the mistletoe, by L. Lanon

and R. E. Mack, 94
Church, Prof. A. J. : the story of tie nations: Car-
thage, 69
Civil Service, Morell's guide to employment in the, 46
Clark. Latimer : transit tables. 261
Clifford, Mrs. W. K. : very short stories. 94
Clock, all round the, by H. M. Bennett and R. E.

Mack, 94
Clouston , W. A. : popular tales and fiction?, 163
Cole, A C. : studies in microscopical sciences, 21, 46, 70,

94
Collingwood. Cuthbert, the Bible and the age. 237
Collins, G. : circular work in carpentry and joinery, 67
Commouhealth, the, by Dr. B. W. Richardson, 283
Compass, the deviation of the, ia iron ships, by W. H.

Rosser, 189
Constellations and stars, easy guide to the principal,

165
Continent, our island : a naturalist's holiday in Aus-
tralia, by Dr. J. E. Taylor, 44
Cooke, M. C- : Rust, smut, mildew, and mould ; an
introduction to the study of microscopic fungi,
260
Cookery books, old, and ancient cuisine, by W. Carew

Hazlitt. 20
Cox, Rev. Sir G. W. : a concise history of England and

the English people, 164
Cumming, 0. F. Gordon : the granite crags of Cali-
fornia, 93
Cyclopsedia, Eazell's annual, 117

Dark to light, through, by A. Eubule-Evans, 68

Darwin, life of, by G. T. Bettany, 211

Davies, Clement : modem whist, together with the

laws of whist, 22
Dean Maitland, the silence of, by Maxwell Gray, 45
Deas, T. F. : the young tea-planter's companion, 260

Denis, Robert : industrial Ireland. 258
Dentistry, mechanical, by Charles Hunter, 285
Disease of sin, by a Medical Muser, 259
Dobell. Horace :" intelligence in the van, 286
Douiithorpe, Wordsworth : labour capitalisation, 259
Drake, S. Adams : the making of New England. 164
Durham, Northumberland and, geology of, by G. A.
Leboar, 261

Ear, minagement of. See " Eye, ear, and throat

management of"
Electrical measurement, tbe arithmetic of, by W. R. P.

Ho'>bs, 141
Electricity in the service of man, from the German of

Dr. A. R. von Urbanitzky, ed. bv R. Wormell, 68
Electricify, practical, by W. E. Ayrton. 213
Elizabethan age, society in the, by Hubert Hall, 140
Elliott. H. W. : an Arctic province, Ahvska aul the

Seal Islands. 139
EUis, G. E. R. : papers in inorganic chemistry, with

numerical answers, 21
Energy, matter and, by B. L. L., 284
England and the English people, a concise history of,

by the Rev. Sir G. W. Cox, Bart., 164
England ani Wales, geology of, by H. B. Woodward

212
England, dawn of the ninetseuth century in, by John

Ashton, 20
England, New, the making of, by S. Adams Drake, 164
England's ideal, &c., by Edward Carpenter, 284
English history, true stories from, 69
English illustrated magazine, the, 45, 286
English literature, story of, bv Miss Buckland, 46
Eubule-Evans, A. : through dark to light, 68
Euclid, Moffdtfs deductions from, 213
Euclid revised, books i and ii.. by R. O. J. Xixon, 118
Evolution and creation, by H. J. Hard wick**, 140
Evolution, the fact-jrs of organic, by H. Spencer, 140
Eye, ear, and throat, management; of the, by Henry

Power, George P. Field, and John S. Bristowe, 284

Fawkss, F. A. : horticultural buildings, 44
Featherman, A. : social history of the races of man-
kind ; Papno- and Ma layo-Me lanes ians, 212
Fenn, George Manville : Yussuf the guide, 237
Ferrier, David : the functions of the brain, 1 17
Field, George P., Henry Power, and J. S. Bristowe :

management of the eye, ear, and throat, 284
Fivas, Dr. V. de : an elementary French grammar, 237
Folk-son^, essays in the study of, by the Countess

Evelvn Martinenso-Cesaresco, 19
Folk-songs, the, of Italy, by Miss R. H. Busk, 140
Forecasting, on, the Weatiier, by B. G. Jenkins, 261
Fortune, a tioid that led to, by Old Boomerang, 69
Francison, Alfred : national lessens from the life and

works of Carlyle, 113
Eraser. J. : the mystery of gravity, &c., 236
French grammar, an elementary, by Dr. V. de Fivas

237
French readier, public school. See Cassell's
Frost, Percival : solid geometry, 46
Froude, J. A. : Caevar : a sketch, 46
Fungi. See *' British fungi "

Fungus-huuter's guide and field memorandum-book,
by W. Delisle Hay, 284

GiRSBHT, WiLLLA-M : heroe3 of science : physicists, 68
Geikie, Dr. : the teaching of geography, 282
Geographical reader, standard vii., 189
Geography, Longman's school, by George Chisholm, 20
Geography made easy, by John Gibson, 165
Geography, the teaching of, by Dr. Geikie, 282
Geological and geographical distribution of animals,

by Prof. Angelo Heilprin, 164
Geology of Englaad and Wales, by H. B. Woodward,

212
Geology of Northumberland and Durham, by G. A.

Leboar, 261
Geometrical conies, syllabus of elementary, 285

VI

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

H-ETTEV^s —continued.
Geometrical demonstration, new mode of, by D.

Mauer, 283
Geometrical, plane, drawing, note-boot on, by Robert

Harris, 212
Geometry, practical solid, by Major W". Q. Ross, 237
Geometry, sobd, bv Percival Frost, 46
Gibb, E. J. W. : the history of the forty Vezirs, or the

story of the forty moons and eves, G9
Gibson, John : geography made easy, 165
Gilkes, A. H. : boys and masters, 2Si
Gillman, Artihur, and J. P. JIahaffy : Alexander's

empire, 189
Glass-blowing, the methods of, by W. A. Shenstone, 67
God and His book, by Saladin, 141
Gomme, G. L. : the literature of local institutions, 44
Goodwin, H. B. : plane and spherical trigonometry, 44
Granite crags of California, the, by C. F. Gordon

Camming, 93
Gravity, the mystery of, by J. Fraser, 236
Gray, Ifaxwell : the silence of Dean Maitland, 45
' Greek verbs in a fortnight, by John Carey, 282
Guillemard. F. H. H. : the cruise of the Marchesa to

Kamschatka and New Guinea, 139

Haggard, H. Kider : She, 141

Hair, diseases of the, lecture on, by James Startin, 285 ;
management of. See *' Skin and hair, manage-
ment of "

Hall, Hubert : society in the Elizabethan age, 140

Handbooks : acoustics, by T. F. Harris, CS ; metal
turners, by Paul N. Hasluck, 212; watch and
clock makers, by F. J. Britten. (^% ; watch jobbers,
by Paul N. Hasluck, 285 ; -wood turners, bv Paul
N. Ha';luck,236

Eardwick. H. J. : evolution and creation, 140

Barley, the Rev. T. : lunar science, ancient and
modern, 260

Harris. T. F. : handbook of acoustics, 68

Hasluck, Paul N. : metal-turners' handbook. 212 ;
screw thread*, 236 ; w a -ch- jobbers' handbook, 285;
wood-turners' handbook, 236

Hay, W. Delisle : an elementary text-book of British
fungi, 141 ; the fungus-hunter's guide and field
memorandum -book, 283

Hazeli's annual cyclopaedia, 117

Hazlitt, W. Carew : old cookery-books and ancient
cuisine, 20; gleanings in old garden literature, 283

Heilpiin, Prof. Angelo : the geological and geogra-
phical distribution of ani'nals, 164

HeUpriu, Louis, and Arminius Vambery : Hungary,
284

Henty, G. A. : the young Carthaginian ; or, a struggle
for empire, 141

Henty, Richmond : Australiana ; or, my early life, 94

Hester's venture, by the author of the " Atelier du
lys," 20

Hewitt, H. Marmaduke : a manual of our mother
tougue, 211

Histology, essentials of, by E. A. Schiifer, 140

Historic towns : London, by W. J. Loftie. 94

Hobbs, W. R. P. : the arithmetic of electrical measure-
ment, 141

Home-rule "wrinkles" for ladies, by Aunt Betsy, 165
Hope, A. R. : boys' own stories, 46

Horticultural buildings, by F. A. Fawkcs, 44

Hoosehold health, by Dr.. Richardson, 261

Howorth, H. H. : the mammoth and the flood, 285
Hudson and Gosse : rotifera, or wheel animalcules, 46
Hungary, by Arminius Vambery and L. Heilprin, 284
Hunter, Charles : mechanical dentistry, 285

India revisited, by Samuel Smith, M.P., 118

Institutions, the literature of local, by G. L, Gomme,
44

Ireland, ancient legends, mystic charms, and supersti-
tions of, with sketches of the Irish past, by Lady
Wilde, 93

Ireland, industrial, by Robert Denis, 258

Iron bridges of moderate span, their construction and
erection, by H. W. Pendred, 212

Italy, folk-songs of, by Miss R. H. Bosk, 140

Jago, Wm. ; the chemistry of wheat, flour, and bread,

46

Janes, Lewis J. : primitive Christianity. 158
Jefferies, Richar<l : after London or wild England, 20
Jefferson, S. : sonnets on nature and science, 140
Jenkins, B. G. : on forecasting the weather, 261 ; the

London weather charts, 284
Jessopp, Dr. A. : arcady ; for better for worse. 211
Jewish history, outlines of, by Lady Magnus, 69
Joule, James Prescott : joint scientific papers of, 164

KiBBALAH, the, unveiled, by S. L. Macgi'egor Mathers,

259
Kingsford, A. B. and E. Maitland, B.A. : the perfect

way ; or, the finding of Christ, 164

LaBottr capitalisation, by "W. Donisthorpe, 259
Lads, the, of Little Clayton, by R. Stead, 213
liambert, Agnes : school bank manual, 46

Lancaster, A. : liste g^n^rale des observatoires et des
astronomes, des soci6t^s et des revues astro-
nomiques, 45

Landon Deecroft, by Laon Ramsey, 117

Lang. Andrew : books and book- men, 141 ; in the
wrong paradise and other stories, 93

Lanou, L. : Christmas roses and under the mistletoe,
94

Law, anarchy, and the theories of, a midnight debate,
by H. E. Brewster, 283

Lawn-tennis tournament, a work on, 285

Lebour, G. A. : geology of Xorthumberland and Dur-
ham, 261

Life, suggestive lesions in practical, 165

Linnffius, through the fields with, by Mrs. Florence
Caddy, 164

Literature, old garden, gleanings in, bv W. Carew
Hazlitt, 283

Local institutions, the literature of, by G. L. Gomme,
44

Loftie, W. J. : London (historic towns series), 94

Logarithms, ABC five-figure, by C. J. Woodward, 285

London, after, or wild England, by R. Jefferies, 20

Loudon (historic towns series), by W. J. Loftie, 94

Longman's school geography, by G. G. Chisholm, 20

Luck or cunning ? by Samuel Butler, 69

Lunar science : ancient and modem, by the Rev.
Timothy Harley, 260

Lynn, William Thynne : celestial motions; a hand-
book of astronomy, 141

McALrrs-E. Prof. D , life, histories of plants, 44
McTaggart, William Bell : absolute reLativism, 236
Magnus. Lady : outlines of Jewish history, 69
Mahaffy, J. P., and Arthur Gillman : Alexander's em-
pire, 189
Maitland, Dean, the silence of, by Maxwell Gray, 45
Maitland, Edward and Anna Kingsford : the perfect

way ; or, the finding of Christ, 164
Mammoth and the flood, by H. H. Howorth, M.P., 285
Marcella Grace, by Rosa Mulholland, 93
Marchant, J. R. Y.: CasseH's Latin-English Dictionarv,

237
Marchesa, the crnise of the, to Kamschatka, and New

Guinea, by F. H. H. Guillemard, 139
Marti nengo-Cesaresco, Countess Evelyn : essays in the

study of folk-s>ngs, 19
Masfli iand, through, by Joseph Thomson, 211
Mathematics, pure, a synopsis of elementary results in,

by J. S. Cirr. 260
Mathers, S. L. Macgregor : the Kabbalah unveiled, 259
Matter and energy, by B. L. L., 284
Mauer, D. ; new mode of geometrical demonstration,

283
Max MUller, F. : the science of thought, 187
Medical mnser, a : disease of sin, 259
!Memoirsof the imperial university of Japan, 213
Mental decay, overwork and premature, its treatment,

by C. H. F. Routh, 1S9
Mercer, John, life and labours of, by E. A. Parnell, 46
Mercifal or Merciless, by Stackpool E. O'Dell, 45
Metal Turner's handbook, the, by P. X. Hasluck. 212
Microscopical science, studies in, edited by Arthur 0.

Cole, 24, 46, 70, 94, 141
Miracle, a misunderstood, by Rev. A. S. Palmer, 283
Misrule, the. of Henry lU.. 213
Miss HoUingford, the late, by Rosa Mulholland, 93
Moffatt's deductions from Euclid, 213
Moffatt's Eugli?h Grammar, 238
Monteiro, Mariana : legends and popular tales of the

Basque people, 69
IMorell's Guide to employment in the Civil Service, AQ
^Morris, Malcolm : skin and hair, management of. 284
Mother tongue, a manual of our, by H. M. Hewitt, 211
Mountain ranges, the origin of. by T. M. Reade, 136
Mulholland, Rosa : Marcella Grace, 93 ; the late Miss

HoUingford, 93
Musician, the: a guide for pianoforte students, by

Ridley Prentice, 165

Natioxs, the atory of the— Carthage, by Prof. A. J.

Church, 69
Naturalist in South America, notes of a, by J. Ball, 211
Nature and science, sonnets on, by S. Jefferson, 139
Newsholmc, Arthur : school hygiene, 236
New South Wales, three pamphlets on, by H. C.

Russell, 92
Nineteenth Century in England, the dawn of, by

John Ashton, 20
Nixon, R. C. J. : Euclid revised, bkg. i. and ii., 118
Noble, Capt. W. ; half-hours with a 3-inch telescope,

156
North, pre-hlstory of the, by Dr. Worsaae, translated

by H. M. Simpson, 93

O'Dell, Stackpool E. : Merciful or Merciless, 45
Organic revolution, the factors of, by H. Spencer, 140
Our island continent: a natura'ist's holiday in Aus-
tralia, by Dr. J. E. Taylor, 44
Overwork and premature mental decay ; its treatment,
by C. H, F. Routh, 189

PAi^^OLTTnic man in N.-W. Middlesex, by John Allen

Brown, 210
Palmer, Rev. A. S. : a misunderstood miracle, 283

Paradise, in the wrong, and other stories, by Andrew

Lang, 93
Parnell, E. A. : the life and labours of John Mercer, 46
Pembridge on Whist or Bumblepappy, 144
Pendred, H. W. : iron bridges of moderate span, their

construction and erection, 212
Perfect way, the ; or, the finding of Clirist, by Anna

B. Kingsfnrd. M.D., and E. Maitland, B.A., 164
Petrography, British, by Harris Teall,2l, 46, 94
Phillips, S.E. : old and new chemistry, 213
Photography, instantaneous, for amateurs, 237
Physicist See " Science, heroes of "
Pigments, the artist's manual of, by H. C. Standige,

165
Planisphere, Philip's, showing the principal stars

visible for every hour in the year. 21
Plants, life histories of, by Prof. D. MacAlpine, 44
Poems, lyrical and other, by Jean Ingelow. 70
Pond life -insects, by Edward A. Butler, 92
Popular tales and fictions, by W. A. Clouston, 1G3
Power, Henry, George P. Field, and J. S. Bristowe :

management of the eye, ear, and skin, 284
Prentice, Ridley : the musician, a guide for pianoforte

students, 165
Price, E. D. : Hazeli's annual cyclop;edia, 117
Psychical research, proceedings of the society for, 261
Public schools atlas, by Rev. George Butler, 114
Public school chemistry, by J. H. Anderson, 118

QuANTTTATTVE analysis, outlines of, by A. Humboldt

Sexton, 283
Quatrefages, M. de : la biblioth^que ethnologique, 93

Races of mankind, social history of, by A. Feather-
man, 212
Ramsey, Laon : Landon Deecroft, 117
Rawnsley, H. D. ; sonnets round the coast, 164
Reade, T. Mel'ard : the origin of mountain ranges, 136
Reading books for home and school : suggestive

lessons in practical life, 21
Relativism, absolute, by William Bell JIcTaggart, 236
Richardson (Dr. B. W.) : asclepiad, 165 ; the common-
health, 283 ; household health, 261
Riches, A. : public examination scripture manuals :

St. Matthew's gospel, St. Mark's gospel, 165
Ringworm, baldness and lecture on, by James Startin,

285
Ritchie, Frank : the exercises in word formation and

derivation, 282
Roberts, Morley : the western avernus, 211
Roberts, R. Lawton : iOuatrated lectures on ambulance

work, 68
Ross, Major W. G. : practical solid geometry, 237
Rosser, W. H. : the deviation of the compass in iron

ships, 189
Rotifera, or wheel animalcules, by Hudson au Gosse,

46
Routh, C. H. F. : overwork and premature mental

decay : its treatment, 189
Russell, H. 0. : New South Wales, three pamphlets on,

92
Rust, smut, mildew, and mould : an introduction to the
study of microscopic fungi, by M. C. Cooke, 260

Saga tdie, by J. Fnlford Vicary, 285

Saladin : God and His book, 141

Saltus, Edgar : an anatomy of negation, 270

Sandlands, J. P. : how to develop general vocal power,

67
Schlifer, E. A.: essentials of histology, 140
School bank manual, by Agnes Lambert, 46
School hygiene, by Arthur Xewsholme, 236
Science, heroes of : physicists, by William Gamett, 68
Science, sonnets of nature and, by S. Jefferson, 140
Science, the, of thought, by F. Max Miiller, 187
Scientific, joint, papers of James Prescott Joule, 164
Scientific knowledge, first year of, by Paul Bert, 92
Screw Threads, by>aul X. Hasluck, 236
Scripture manuals, public examination : St. Matthew's

gospel, St. Mark's gospel, by Ai'thur Riches, 165
Senior, M. H. : My first trigonometry, 267
Sexton, A. H. : outlines of quantitative analysis, 283
She, by H. Rider Haggard, 141
Shenstone, W. A. ; the methods of glass-blowing, 67
Sbipbuilding in iron and steel, the modern practice of,

by Samuel P. Tbearle, 213
Shoring and its application, by G. H. Blagrove, 189
Sin, disease of, by a Medical Muser, 259
Skin and hair, management of, by Malcolm Moms, 284
Sktise, F. A. A. : British stalk-eyed Crustacea and

spiders, 237
Smith, Samuel : India revisited, 118
Social ari'ows, by Lord Brabazon, 213
Socialism, the religion of, by Ernest Belfort Bax, 259
Sonnets of nature and science, by S. JeSersou, 140
Sonnets round the coast, by H. D. Rawnsley, 164
Spencer, H. : the factors of organic revolution, 140
Stables, Gordon: the cruise of the land-yacht Wan--

derer, 259
Standage, H. C. : the artist's manual of pigments, 166
Stars, the principal constellations and, visible in Great

Britain, easy guide to the, 165
Sf^rtin. James : lectures on diseases of the hair and oa

baldness and riueworm, 285
Stead, R.: the lads of Little Clayton, 313

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE -

vu

Hevievi'S— continued.
Stewart, Alex. : th.e temperaments, their study and

their teaching, 283
Stinde, Jnlius : woodland tales, translated by Ellis

"Wright, 164
Stories, very short, by Jlrs, W. K. Clifford, 94

Taylor, Dr. J. E.: our island continent : a naturalist's
holiday in Australia, 44

Teall, Harris: British Petrography, 21, 4fi, 94

Tea-planter's, the young, compamou, by T. F. Deas,
260

Telescope, halE-hours with a 3-inch, by Capt. W.
Noble, 156

Temperaments, the: their study and their teaching,
by Alex. Stewart, 283

Thackeray's Pendennis, Barry Lyndon, The New-
comes, 21

Theal, G. McCall : history of the Boers in South
Africa, 283

Thearle, Samuel P. : the modern practice of ship-
building in iron and eteel, 213

Thomson, Joseph : through Masai Land, 211

Thought, the world of, 117

Throat, maoagement of. See " Ear, eye, and throat,
management of "

Transit tables for 18S7, by Latimer Clark, 261

Trigonometry, my fii*st, by it. H. Senior, 237

Trigonometry .phine and spherical, by H. B, Goodwin.
44

Triumphant democracy ; or, fifty yeai^' march of the

republic, by Andrew Carnegie, 126
Trumbull, H. Clay : the blood covenant : a primitive

rite and its bearings on scripture. 212
Tucker, A. : Alpine winter in its medical aspect, 261

TJbbanitzky, Dr. A. H. von : electricity in the service
of man, 63

Vamb6rt, Arminioa, and L. Heilpmn : Hungary, 284
Van, intelligence in the, by Horace Dobell. 285
Vezirs, the history of the forty ; or, the story of the

forty morns and eves, by E. J. W. Gibb, 69
Vicary, J. Fulford : Saga time, 285
Victoria, the illustrated handbook of. 70
Vocal power, how to develop, by J. P, Sandlauds, 67

"Wanderer.'' land-yacht, the cruise of, by Gordon

Stable?, 259
Warner Observatory, history and work of the, 236
Watch and clock makers' handbook, by F. J. Britten,

6S
Watch-jobbers' handbook, by Paul N. Hasluck, 285
Weather, on forecasting the, by B. G. Jenkins, 2S1
Weather chart, the London, by B. G. Jenkins, 284
Western Avernus, the, by llorley Roberts, 211
Wheat, flour, and bread, the chemistry of, by Wm.

Jago, 46

Whist, modem, together with the laws of whist, by

Clement Davies, 22
Whist or bumblepuppy. by Pembridge, 144
Whitaker's almanack, 94
Wilde, Lady : ancient legends, mystic charms, and

superstitions of Ireland, with sketches of the

Irish past, 93
Williams, J. Fraucon : Philip's handy-volume atlas of

the world, 236
Wilson, AJex. : the junior students' algebra, 21
Windsor, E. S. : babies' crawling rugs and how to

make them, 165
Wood, H. Trueman : modem methods of illustrating

books, 117
Woodland tales, by Julius Stinde, translated by Ellis

Wright, 164
Wood-turners' handbook, the, by Paul N. Hasluck, 236
Woodward, C. J. : ABC five-figure logarithms. 285
Woodward, H. E. : the geology of Englaad and Wales,

212
Wool trade, romance of the, by James Bonwick, 259
Word formation and derivation, the exercises in, by

Frank Ritchie, 282
World of thought, thi> 117
Worsaae. Dr. : the pre-hlstury of the north, translated

by H. M. Siaipson, 93
Wright, J. J. : the little asker : or, learning to think,

21

YossuF the guide, by George Manville Fenn, 237
Young Carthaginian, the ; or, a struggle for empire
by G. A. Heuty, 141

nyczsGELiij^isrE^^.

Allen, Grant, on ilr. Proctor and the Saturday

Review, 5
American "Arrow " line steamers, 266
American English, 179
'* Americanisms," the Saturday Review and Mr. Grant

Allen on, 5
"Arrow" line steamers, the new American, 266

Bacon and modern science, 139

Eenecke, Dr. : curious observations on the growth of

the heart, 153
Blackfoot tribes, ethnology of the, 5
Blasphemy, argument on, 96
Bos, compact and ingenious, for scientific purposes, by

Mr. Medland,'46

CAtJFOuxLi tree, a, 5
Capel, ilgr.. and a Kentucky girl, 61
Consumption, the Mullein test in, 249
Cosmogony, Hindoo, and physics, 143

ECUPSE, the total solar, of August, 19, 234

English, American, 179

Ethnology of the Blackfoot tribes, 5

Faith, doubting, 196
Furniture, laboratory, 60

Heart, curious observations on the growth of the, 153
Hindoo cosmogony and physics, 143

Jews, race characteristics of the, 132
Kentucky girl and Mgr. Capel, 61

Laboratory furniture, 60

London, the. Stereoscopic Company, their Inter-
national Amateur Photographic E^diibition, 4, 216

Matthews, Dr. John, scientific effects of, 46

Medland, Mr., his compact and ingenious box for

scientific purposes, 46
Moon, handy map of the, 16
Mullein test in consumption, 249

Photographic Exhibition, the International Amateur,
4,216 '

Photographs of the sun, 276

Physics, Hindoo cosmogony and, 143

Proctor, Mr., and Saturday Review^ Mr. Grant
Allen on, 5

Race characteristics of the Jews, 132

Saturday Review, the, and Mr. Proctor, Mr. Grant

Allen on, 5
Science, modern. Bacon and, 139
Solar ecHpse, the total, of August 19, 234
Star, variable, spectra of a, 61
Steamers, the new American " Arrow " line, 266
Sun, photographs of the, 276

VUl

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

[OCTOBEE 1, 1887.

inLLTJSTI^^TIOISrS.

America*s ^owth, map Dlustrating. 128

Athis, a one-scale, southern index map, 34 : map i., 58 ;

map ii., 106 ; map iii., 134 ; map iv., 155 ; map v.,

181 ; map vl., 224 ; map vii.. 250 ; map viii., 271 ;

a uniform, map illustrating, 8
Australasia, Cape Colonv, &c., maps of

of, for January, 6, 7

Dg, o

, maps of the night skies

Baseball play, curves in, diagrams illustrating, 254,

255
Biologist's dissecting-table. SO
K Bootis, 58 Corvi, and y Virginis : paths of the double

star, 77

Cape Colony. Australasia, &c., maps of the night skies

of, for January, 6, 7
Cape Town to Melbourne, chart illustrating great

circle track, 198
Charts and maps. See '* America, growth of " ; " Atla<<,

one-scile " ; " Columbus, the voyages of " ; " Great

circle sailing"; "Skies, night, of Australasia,"

&c.
Chess column, otia : diagrams illustrating, 23, 24,

47, 72, 95, 120, 142, 166, 191, 192, 215, 239, 240, 262,

288
Clothes-moths and their allies, diagrams illustrating,

178. 179
Coal, diasram illustrating, 148
Columbus, the voyages of, charted, maps illustrating,

203, 204
Curves in baseball play, diagrams illustrating, 254,

255

DissECTiKG-DiSH for uatuTalist, 279

■Sarth's globe, diagrams illustrating the varying

aspects of, 2S0. 2S1
Ellipses, illustrative diagram, 11
Endrosis fenestrella, 179
England, the southern (night) skies in. See under

" Skies, night," &c
Epsilon Lyrse group, photograph of the, 77

Gemini, great cluster in, photograph of the, 76
Great circle sailing, charts and diagrams illustratiug,
198,199,200, 2LI1

Honeycomb cell-eads,problemof, diagram illustrating,

152
Hyperbola, iUostrative diagram, 11

Japanese magic m'rror, diagram illustrating, 186
Jupiter, photogi aph of, 9

Laboratory, naturalist's, diagrams illustrating, 161,
162

ilARlc mirror, the Japanese, diagram illustrating, 186

Slaps and Charts : See "America's growth" ; "Atlas,
a one-scale," 5ic. ; " Columbus, voyages of,
charted '* : '' Skies, night, of Australasia," &.c.

Mathematical recreations, diagrams illustratius, 10, 11

MelDoiu-ne, Cape Town to, chart illustrating great
circle track, 198

Microscope, pleasant hours with the, diagrams illus-
trating, 108, 267, 268

Microscopical specimens, naturalist's book bos for the
storage of, 162

Microscopist's working table, 80

Minute measurement, figures illustrative of. 78, 79, 110,
111,112

Mizar, the double star, path of the, 77

Museum bottles, patent lock stopper for, 279

Naturalist's book bos for microscopical specimens,

162
Naturalist's laboratory, diagrams illustrating, 80, 161,

162, 279
Night skies of Australasia, Cape Colony, &c. See

" Skies, night, of Australasia," &c
North Polar index map, 8
North Polar region, on the equidistant projection,

map illustrating, 58
Northern (night) skies, the southern half of our, stars

of. See ■' Skies, night," &c.

Parabola, illustrative 6gure, 10

Photograph of Jupiter, 9

Polar, north, index map, 8

Polar regbus, north, on the equidistant projection

map of, 58
Prison puzzle, diagram of the, 43
Proctor, R. A.: h's charts for great circle sailing, with

diagrams. 198, 199, 200; his voyages of Columbus

charted, with maps, 203. 204
Puzzles, solutions of our, diagrams illustrating the,

9,39,40, 43.60,61, 83, 84, 92, 108, 131, 132,151,

152, 153. 186
Pyramid, bu-lding a triangular, diagram illustrating,

151

Recreations, mathematical, diagrams illustratiug,
in, 11

Skies, night, of Australasia, Cape Colony, &c., and in
the southern hemisphere and the southern skies
in England (the southern half of our northern
skies), maps of the, for Jan., 6, 7, 36, 37, 86, 87 ;
Feb , 36, 37, 86, 87, 105 ; March, 62, 63, 86, 87, 105,
133; AprU, 105, 133, 154; May, 133, 154, 180;
June, 154, ISO, 197 : July, 180, 197,225 ; Aug., 197,
225, 251 ; Sept., 225, 251, 272 ; Oct., 251, 272 ;
N07., 272 ; Bee. 36, 37

Southern hemisphere and part of the northern on the
stereographic projection, index map showing the,
34. See also under " Skies, night "

Stars, double, and star clusters, photographs ot 76, 77 ;
of the southern (night) skies. See ** Skies, night
&c."

Store case for naturalists, 161

Sulphur globules and crystals, 108

Tinea tapetzella, 178

Trees, nineteen, puzzle, diagram illustrating, 9, 39,

Yega and its companions, photograph of, 77
Whist column, diagrams illustrating, 48, 96, 143, 190

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

^^ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE ^
teNCE,UTERATURE,& ARTj

LONDON: NOVEMBER 1, 1886.

THE EARTHQUAKE IN AMERICA.

N several respects the great earthquake which,
ou August 31, shook the eastern half of the
United States, is remarkable beyouJ all others
whose records have reached us. It suggest>',
though it does not actually demonstrate, the
existence of a cause of earthquakes such as
had not been before taken into account. It
also raises the question whether those seismologists are light
who assert that more earthquakes occur now than in former
times, the increase in the number of recorded earthquakes
Ijeing, they maintain, far greater than can be explained by
the increase, great tliough that has doubtless been, in the
care with which all signs of subterranean disturbance are
lecorded.

The earthquake of August 31 was preceded by certain
signs of widespread subterranean activity which may not,
indeed, have been connected witli it, yet require to be
recorded as among the indications to which we may have
to attend in forming an opinion of the probable cause of the
disturbance which presentily followed.

Eaily on August 31 an artesian well I inches in
diameter, which had been bored to a depth of 180 feet,
near Belle Plains, la., suddenly burst, and immediately
an immense volume of water was forced into the air to a
heiglit uf several hundred feet. Tliis increa.sed in size until
a stream of water fully IG inches in diametei' (or sixteen
times the cioss section of the boring) was formed. The rush
of this stream was as irresistible as the action of dynamite.
Two " rivers," the Mayor of Eelle Plains announced in a
despatch to Chicago ou the afternoon of August 31, " liave
been formed by this water-burst, which are running through
the town at the rate of twelve miles an hour, and are
carrying everything before them." An attempt was made
to insert IG-inch boiler iron tubes into the well ; but they
were instantly blown out, as if they had been straws, and
hurled high into the air. Then the lowaus tried to fill up
the opening of the well with .sand and stcne — fifteen cart-
loads of stone were enqitied into the well ; but they were
instantly blown out and forced upwards, as if by a bur.sting
magazine of gunpowder. The same happened when bags of
sand were cast into the well. Tlie men of the North-
western Riihoad sent a large gang of men — '' navvies," as
we should call them — to help to dam the outlet, and they
were helped by the county bridge gang. But for more than
a day no abatement in the fiow of water was peiceptible.
To quote fiom an account in the Chicago i.cwspapers, the
rushing rivers formed by the flow of waters continued to
wash the channel deeper and wider, while the basin formed
by the immense volume of water spread so as to form a wide
lake over the lowlands in the vicinity. Until September 3,
when a slight diminution was for tlie first time perceptible,
it was calculated that the daily flow amounted to five million
gallons of water. Ou the 4th it was found 230.>^sible to siuk

a cone and a tube to regulate the outflow ; but the danger
now remains that the whole region from beneath which this
subterrauean river burst forth may cave in.*

It may possibly le that there was no connection between
this outburst in Iowa and the earthquake which followed a
few hours after, and was felt over a part of this same
region, and violently at places much farther away from the
centre of disturbance. Still the coincidence is too remarkable
to be left unnoticed.

In like manner there may possibly have been no real
connection between the great earthquake and a remarkable
disturbance in Montana, which preceded it by three da}s.
On Saturday, August 28, at the very time when a great
earthquake shook Greece and Italy, the Excelsior Geyser,
in the Yellowstone Park, Montana, burst suddenly into
violent activity. Foiu- years had passed, duiing which it
had been quiescent. Its activity four years ago was
remarkable, but short histing. Its recent outbreak was of
a somewhat similar character. When we consider the dis-
tance of Montana from South Carolina it seems almost as
difficult to imagine that there was any connection between
the subterranciin distuibances in these places, as to imagine
that the Excelsior Geyser was affected by the earthcjuake
in Greece. It is indeid diflicult for persons in England to
appreciate fiUIy the enormous extent of the United States.
Accustomed to see in atlases a map of the States, as there is
a map of the German Empire, the idea is conveyed that the
States form a country resembling a Europe;in country,
instead of the whole of Europe, in e.xtent. From the
\ellowstone Park to Charlestcn, S.C , is a distance of
about 1,800 miles, or some 200 miles more than the dis-
tance separating Athens fiom London.

Yet it must be remembered that the diiect etlects of the
great earthquake at Lisbon were recognised over an even
greater distance than this, having afiected not only the
northern part of the Scandinavian peninsula, but even the
eastern shores of North America. The waves of distm'b-
ance which swept aiound South Carolina ou August 31 last
were felt in the most stiiking manner as far north as
JNIilwaukee on the western shore uf Lake INIichigan ; and
we shall probably hear, ere long, of minor disturbances
noted at much greater distiinces even than this.

Of other signs of an approaching subterranean disturb-
ance I need say little here. In the States the opinion was
commoidy expressed that a certain stillness and heaviness in
the air, which many said they had noticed for some time
before the earthquake, indicated the disturbed condition of
the earth's interior. We know that such an idea is enter-
tained in volcanic regions, as by the inhabitants of Naples
in I'egard to Vesuvius, and by the inhabitants of Palermo
and Messina in legard to Etna. That such atmoi-plieric
peculiarities may justly be regarded as premonitions is
likely enough, but that they are indications of disturb-
ances actually in progress is only less utteily inconceivable
than the doctrine gravely propounded in some quarters that
the recent earthquake was caused by electrical disturbances,
indicated after it had happened by the occuricuce of a
magnetic storm in New York (State). It seems very likely
that when the underground conditions have for a long time
been in a critical condition, tensions having accumulated

* In passing, I may notice how such cases as these demonstrate
the eruptive power which may accompany tlie outflow of fluid matter
fiom the earth. It is often assumed by geologists that the outflow
of lava in the gieat eiuptioiis of the tertiary era weie quiet, although
the forces which pioduced them may have been intensely cneigetic.
Certainly auy eiuptive action whicli may have accompanied the
outflow lias left no trace of its efi'ects ; but in like manner any one
who should visit Belle Plains a year hence would find no trace of
the eiuptive, geyser-like energy with which water was flung forth —
only the signs of the gieat lake ittelf which the water formed.

♦ KNOWLEDGE -

[November 1, 1886.

until relief is required in some direction, the changes of
atmot'pheric pressure, iudicateJ by abnormal atmospheric
conditions, may be as the last feather ou the back of the
provei'bial camel, and may actually bring about the earth-
quake in the same sense that the touch of a feather on a
hair-trigger may bring about the explosion of the gun. But
the still and heavy air (as we are apt to call it, though
usually the barometer gives a different account of the
matter) tells us nothing of the state of the earth's interior.
It only tells us that if the earth's interior is in a state of
strong tension nearly balanced by resisting forces, a distui'bance
is very likely to follow the abnormal condition of atmospheric
pressure. When we remember that an alteration of two
inches in the height of the barometer mea'is a change of
half a pound in the atmospheric pressure on each square inch
of the earth's surface, and that often the area beneath which
the tensions resulting in an earthquake are at work may be
twenty miles square, we see that such an alteration of
atmospheric pressure as often precedes a great storm may
very well serve as tiigger-puller to the earth's imprisoned
forces and bring about an earthquake. In a region ten
miles square, there are one hundred squai'e miles, each
containing about three milhons of square yards, in each of
which are nearly thirteen hundi'ed square inches. So that
thei'e are not far from 400,000 millions of square inches in
a surface of ten miles squai-e. Thus a difi'erence of two
inches in the height of the mercurial bai'ometer on a
smface of that ai'ea would mean nearly 200,000 millions of
pounds', or 100 millions of tons', diflerence of atmospheric
pressure. This would be a mere nothing compared with
the tremendous jwessures which such a poitiou of the
earth's crust is able to sustain and resist. But regarded as
a change of pressure, it would be a very potent factor in a
nicely balanced contest between the earth's crust and the
reaction of inteiior strains and tensions. One may I'epresent
the diflerence of atmospheric pressure even more effectively ;
perhaps as equivalent to a flood of watei' covering the
whole of the one hundred square miles to a depth of moie
than 2;^ feet.

As regards magnetic and electric disturbances, it may
suffice to mention that those observed on the present
occasion followed the earthquake, and that it might be
taken almost for granted that no gi-eat subterranean
distui'bances could possibly take place without electrical
and magnetical phenomena of an unusual kind being
observed. To imagine, as some have done, that a mag-
netical storm, even if it had chanced to precede an earth-
quake, could have brought the earthquake about, is almost
as preposterous as that blunder which set the scientific
world on the broad grin nearly a quarter of a century
ago, when it was gravely suggested that the Great Eastern,
then missing, might have gone down in the great magnetic
storm announced at tJreeuwich !

The earthquake of August 31 was felt at Charleston at
0.55 P.M. It has been stated since that the wave of disturb-
ani« travelled from this region of greatest distui'bance in all
directions. But, as a matter of fact, the shock was felt
earlier in places at a distiince. I have before me the leading
St. Louis paper for September 1, in which, in an article
written before the news from Charleston had been received,
the times recorded at various stations are indicated thus : —
At St. Louis, 8.20 ; at Indianapolis, 8.52 ; at Na.shville,
8.54 ; at New York, 8.57 ; at Detroit, 9 ; at Louisville,
9.13 ; at Cincinnati, 9.16 ; at Cleveland, 9.38; at Atlanta,
9.50 ; at Washington, 9.55. (The remark is added, reading
strangely and .sadly in the light of the news which arrived
but a few hours later : " As has been usual with such
phenomena in the United States, very little damage to pro-
perty was done, and there was no loss of life.") It is barely

possible, however, that in reality the shock thus timed was
felt earlier in Charleston. For the hour mentioned above
was not actually I'ecorded. The people at Charleston were
naturally little disposed to make time records when their
lives seemed appallingly endangered. No telegraphic news
of the disaster was sent out that night, insomuch that it was
not until the morning of September 2 that the greater part
of the States heard of the terrible effects of the shock in
Charleston. The record by which the time of the chief
shock was inferred was simply the clock of St. Michael's
Church, which had stopped at 9.55 p.m.

COAL.

By W. Mattieu Williams.

N my last I described the usual methods of
proving coal by boring, and some of the sources
of peril to investors in new ventures. Also
the reasons why the deepest part of the seam
to be worked is chosen for sinking the pits. I
should add that where the coal is near the
surface, and the depth of the shafts is con-
sequently small, a larger number of pits are sunk on a
given area of laud than where the coal exists at greater
depths. The reason of this is simple enough. The sinking
of shafts is costly, and the cost of course increases with the
depth. Also the bringing of the coal from long distances
under-ground to the bottom of the shaft costs more than short
distances. Besides this, the woik of ventilation becomes
more and more comi)lex the greater the area that is worked
from one pair of pits. Thus the question of whether a given
pair of pits shall continue to be used for winning larger
and larger areas, or whether these shall be abandoned and a
new pair sunk, is answered by calculating whether the saving
that may be effected by shorter underground roads is sufficient
to cover the interest on the capital required for the new pits.
The great ten-yard seam of the " Black Country " between
Birmingham and Wolverhampton affords an example of
numerous pits in proportion to ai'ea. This may be noted
in passing thiough by rail. The pits there are not only
numerous, but about the most jnimitive in the kingdom as
regards all then- appliances.

At Sandwell Park, near Birmingham, where, after many
vicissitudes of hope and fear and serious specidations, risings
and fallings of shares, a much deeper seam has at last been
reached, a remarkable contrast may be observed.

The unsophisticated reader may wonder why I have in
the above only spoken of pits, or a pair of pits or shafts,
never of a pit or shaft in the singular. The reason is that
a single jnt or sh.oft is now illegal in this country. The
Corsicau butcher called us a nation of shopkeepeis, and
ignorant outsiders still believe that we, as a nation, sacrifice
everything to the exigencies of trade and commerce, but
those who choose to inquire and learn the truth will dis-
cover that when laws are demanded in which the claims of
humanity come in collision with those of profit, British
legislation provides for the former at the expense of the
latter to an extent unparalleled by the legislation of any
other country in the world, either ancient or modern.
Our factory acts for the protection of women and
children, and the machinery of factory inspectors to enforce
those acts; our laws for the compensation of injured work-
men, our severe enforcement of compensation for personal
uijuries on railways, our regulations concerning the loading
of .ships and the general protection of sailors, our prohibition
of chimney-sweeping boys, our laws agaiu.st using dogs as
draught animals, our legislation prohibiting female labour
and regulating boy labour in coal-pits, are far more stringent

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

than those of any other country in Em-ope. It is purely for
the protection of the poor collier that we compel the rich
capitalist to sink two pits where otherwise, and in other
countries, only one is necessary. As the cost of a pit may
amount to ten, twenty, and in some crises to as much as
fifty or sixty thousand pounds, this legislative interference
with a fundamental industry is one of a multitude of
refutations of the shallow Napoleonic libel still repeated by
ignorant foreigners.

The object of the two shafts is to secure efficient venti-
lation throughout the mine, one shaft serving as an inlet
for air, the " downcast " shaft ; the other as an outlet,
the " upcast " shaft. The object was formerlj^ attained
bj' dividing the .shaft do\vn the middle by a " bratticing "
or perpendicular wall of woodwork. Brattices are still
used in other countries, where the saving of rich men's
capital is deemed more holy than the saving of poor
men's lives. The catastrophe at Hartley, where a vibration
or swing of the cage caused it to strike and wreck the
brattice demonstrated the danger of this contrivance, and an
Act of Parliament justly abolished it.

The diameter of ordinary modern coal-pits is from S to
12 feet ; some reach IG feet, and even more. Old pits of 4
to 5 feet diameter .still exist, but are now very r;ire. In this
country they are. with a few exceptions, circular. The excep-
tions are elliptical pits, which are more common in Belgium.

It is Goldsmith, if I remember rightly, who tells the story
of an old paradoxical Chinaman who stopped strangers in
the street and asked them which are the more durable,
hard things or soft. On receiving the natural answer, he
opened his mouth and showed that all his teeth were gone,
while his tongue remained as waggish as ever. A similar
paradox is presented in pit sinking. Within certain limits,
the harder the rock to be penetrated the easier and less
costly the sinking of a given depth of shaft. The reason of
this is that a hard compact rock, such as the hardest among
the coal measures, has only to be removed so as to cut
thi'ough it a shaft of the required diameter. This being done,
the rock itself constitutes its own pit wall. But when the
rock is soft and friable, such as the shales that abound in the
coal measures, an artificial lining wall must be built all round.

In ordinary cases this wall is made of brick. It is evi-
dent that the first excavation must exceed in diameter that
of the final shaft by double the thickness of this brick wall.
As it is unsafe to go lieyond a certain depth in friable
material without supporting it with this lining, the problem
to be solved is that of building a tower of brick from the
top downwards. If the ground is not verv bad, this is done
by first proceeding downwards (say from the compact rock)
ajid making the shaft of the same diameter as or smaller than
above. Having reached the depth of a safe stage, this
portion is now enlarged sufficiently to allow for bricking,
and then, as a foundation on which this brickwork is to be
raised, kerbs or courbes* — i.e., stout segments of wood, 4 to
6 inches thick perpendicularly, and the full horizontal width
of the intended brick wall — are firmly jointed together,
forming a stout wooden ring, which serves as a foundation
or floor upon which the circular brick wall is built up until
it reaches tlie finished i>ortion of the sh:ift .above. The
bricks used are of good qualitj', and accurately shaped as
segments of the circular wall requii'ed. The manufacture
of such " wedge bricks " is a regular business, the makers
keeping moulds for every required diameter.

But how to sink below this kerb, seeing that the kerb
and all the wall that rests upon it must be supported while
it is being tindermined to build beneath it the next instal-

* Courbe is the French name for this contrivance, and I may tell,
in passing, that the Welsh miners use the French word, so far as
pronunciation is concerned. How they would spell it I cannot say.

ment of the tower ? Where there is a wooden kerb above,
safely resting on compact, reliable rock, this may be done by
means of " stringing deals " — that is, planks nailed against
the upper kerb or kerbs, and against each other if necessary
to join them in a string — the lower end of the string being
nailed to the lower kerb, which is thus supported firmly.
The sinking then proceeds as before down to another kerl>.

The worst of all troubles in sinking is that which occurs
when " running ground " Ls reached, such as a deposit of
gravel. This is bad enough when tolerably dry ; but when
it happens, .as it usually does happen, that the gravel deposit
is a subterranean waterway, the cjise is very serious. I
cantiot better illustrate the nature of this, and the mode of
fighting it, than liy telling the story of my own experience.

I was engaged as manager of the Leeswood works of the
London, Leeswood, and Erith Oil Company. Trouble came
upon us, in the first place, by a blow from America. There
they "struck ile,"' and also struck us, their petroleum, dis-
tilled by nature, being of the same character as our distilled
oil, but better in quality. When I commenced the distilla-
tion of this oil its wholesale price, refined, was 3.f. 6(7. per
gallon, now it is about Id. We could not produce it for less
than \s. Gd., if we purchased cannel from our neighbours.
A\'hen the price of American kerosine fell below this, our
retorts and my vocation were superseded. But the com-
pany had purchased a lease of land supposed to be rich
in cannel, and were sinking to it under the supervision of
the late Samuel Bl.ickwell, so well known in the Black
Country by his commercial enterprise and his commercial
misfortunes, and worthily respected in spite of the latter.
He visited the works weekly. We had a good underground
working foreman or " steward," whose name, of course, was
Jones (the population of those parts co^isists of men, women,
and Jones's, chiefly the latter).

Poor Blackwell's health gave way, he knew that his brain
was failing under the pressure of trouble, and that he must
presently resign. We were close friends, and he initiated
me into the work to be done. I had already followed his
instructions, and paid the men, Sec, but was not a mining
engineer. At last Blackwell collapsed suddenly, and with
the help of the faithful Jones I did his work. This would
have been easj' enough had all gone well ; but one night I
was called up with the alarming intelligence that the pit
had given w.ay ; the whole structure of brickwork had sunk
some inches ; the sinkers had come upon loose ground, and a
total collapse was threatened. Either the shaft must be
abandoned, or the entire structure so far as it had gone
must be suspended from above.

This alternative was no novelty to old hands, though
rather startling to myself. Jones was fully equal to the occa-
sion. A broad kerb was made of extra thickness, and this
was jammed under the base of the brickwork resting on the
" gravel wash," which was firm enough vertically while
undisturbed. The kerb was comjileted, each segment being
firmly keyed to its neighbour. Strong beams were then
jjlaced horizontally under this, and fully spanning across.
Similar lieams were laid across the mouth of the shaft, and
the top and bottom beams firmly connected by strong iron
chains similar to those used for raising the coal, &c. Then
the sinking w.as recommenced, but, as it proceeded down-
wards, the gravel trickled from the sides of the sinking into
the intended shaft, and thus opened out a cavern on all
sides far exceeding the diameter of the pit. The deeper the
sinking, the greater the diameter of this drift cavity. As
nearly as I can remember, about thirty feet of depth
was thus worked out. My anxiety was serious, doubtless
the greater from lack of familiarity.

When I descended the pit and looked upwards there was
a brick tower about 150 feet high, suspended by the chains

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1886.

and the timber beams. It was completely undermined to a
creat distance beyond its base all ai-ound, although the drift
of the gravel was checked by woodwork. It suggested the
old story of the sword of Damocles ; a more deadly weapon
than a sword was hanging perpetually over the heads of the
men as they worked below ; a failure of the chains or the
beams, or of the ground abDve, and the whole of this sus-
pended tower must come crushing down, hopelessly buryingall.
At last the gi-avel was fully pierced and so'id rock was
reached ; then a stout kerb was laid, and a double wall, an
inner cylinder of bi-ickwork corresponding to the finished
diameter of the pit, and another outside of this, leaving a
space hetn'een all round. This space was puddled with
clay, " coffered" as Jones called it, in order to keep back^he
water, which was especially abundant in the gi-avel. As the
double wall advanced upwards, the space behind it was well
and firmly filled and rammed. At hxst the suspending kerb
was reached, and when firmly connected with the double
tower below, the su?pendirig apparatus was removed.

The coffering to keep out the water is variously devised.
Sometimes "tubbing" is substituted for the above-described.
This I understand is more frequently used now than
formerly. Cuvelage is the French name. A detailed
technical description of ths various kinds of tubbing would
be out of place here. It will be sufiicient to state that both
wood and iron are used ; that " plank tubbing," effecting a
result similar to cooper's work, is used ; also solid wood
tubbing, which, broadlv speaking, may be described as a
lining of kerbs well wedged and caulked at all their joints
to make them watertight. Then there is iron tubbing,
formed of cast-iron cylinders, which are let down in short
lengths and line the pit. Other iron tubbing is formed of
cast-iron segments carefully built in. It is always expen-
sive, the cost amounting in deep and large pits to as much
as about 50^. or GOl. per yard. When substituted for brick-
work, it has to support the lining structure above, and
must be strengthened accordingly as the depth increases.
If coalpits were permanent structures, such iron tubbing
would be quite inapplicable, as in spite of brick linings
and other devices the iron is gnidualh' corroded by
the water, and by the gases from the ventilating furnaces.
If, however, it lasts until all the coal within its reach is
worked out, this is sufficient.

As two pits mast, in this country, be available for the
ventilation of every colliery, it is convenient in opening
new ground to sink the pair simultaneously. One of the ad-
vantages of this is the facility aflbrded for ventilation during
the sinking, as the pits ai-e usually placed near to each other.
Man is so constituted that he cannot simply bore a hole in
the earth to any depth he pleases and remain therein. He
must make arrangements for causing a current of air to
rise, and another to simultaneouslj' descend, or he will be
suffocated by the exhalations from his own lungs and the
earth around. In sinking a pair of pits near to each other
this ventilation is easily obtained by descending until the
air begins to foul, then driving a horizontal communication
and establishing an upcast of air in one pit and downcast in
the other. The methods of doing this and of producing,
directing, and controlling subterranean air currents generally
will be treated hereafter.

We understaud the Amateur Photographic Exhibition held by the
London Stereoscopic Company in the spring has resulted in a loss
to them. Tliis was fully anticipated by the directors when they
inau.i^urated it ; and that the Company, in the face of this know-
ledge, have given the amateur world a second exhibition is, we
think, most enterprising, and will undoubtedly be appreciated by
amateurs as it deserves. We have no hesitation in saying to those
amateurs wlio may be amongst our readers that, in common fairness,
they should reciprocate and make their purchases from the Company.
We have seen and can vouch for the quality of the articles supplied_

THE RECENT TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE.

tAR the TOO.st interesting results obtained
during the recent eclipse are (1) Ta echini's
discovery that the spectroscopic method of
observing the sun's coloured prominences
shows only the brighter parts of the pro
minences as they actually exist and as
they are seen during totality. He ob-
served the eclipsed sun through a telescope
6 inches in diameter, and noted (as during the eclipse of
1882) the existence of whitish extensions around and above
the ruddy flames. Making spectroscopic study round the
edge of the sun's disc after the eclipse, he found that the
ruddy part — so to speak — the core of these prominences,
was all that could he seen of them by the s|)ectroscopic
method. This discovery seems only explicable by the theory
that the ruddy, jet-like portion of the prominence owes its
light, and therefore its heat, to the velocity of outrush with
which ejected matter passes through the hydrogen and
helium already outside the sun, and not to the outrush of
those gases themselves in an intensely heated condition.
For, outrusting gases brought from a region of great
pressure to a region of very small pressure would expand
rapidly and be qiiickly cooled, so that the outlines of the
hexted and luminous portion would be sharply defined,
and would be surrounded by a region not only cooler than
the ejected matter, but even cooler than the surround-
ing atmosphere. On the other hand, ejected matter
would travel outwards with diminishing velocity owing
to the retarding action of solar gravity, while such portions
as returned after reaching a certain height would not only
be scattered around somewhat widely, but would reach the
sun's surface with less velocity than they had had at leaving
it, because of the etfects of frictional resistance. Hence,
above and around the region of rapid outrush, intense heat,
and brilliant ligiit, there would be a region where the
hydrogen and helium in the sun's atmosphere would be
heated by the rush of matter through it, and would there-
fore be luminous, but would lie less heated than the region
of outrush. This exactly corresponds with what Tacchini
has discovered.

We should expect, as a further consequence, that the
corona would sho^\- a gradual diminution of heit with in-
creasing distance from the sun's edge, and therefore a gradual
change of spectrum, those spectral lines brought otit in the
laboratory with high temperatures being .shorter in the
coronal spectrum than those visible when lower tempera-
tures are employed. This was observed first in the eclipse
of 1882. But the observations by Messrs. Turner and
Perry, by which, on the present occasion, the results of 1882
were confirmed, must be regarded as of considerable import-
ance, though not altogether new. An attempt has been
made to reconcile the observation with the old and exploded
theory that the corona is a solar atmosphere ; and strangely
enough the attempt has been made in the very .same quarter
where the idea was longest and mast obstinately maintained
that the corona is not a solar appendage at all. Whatever
else we may surmise about the corona, we cannot any longer
admit the possibility that it is of the nature of a solar
atmosphere properly so-avlled. Ga.seous matter is there in
plenty, but it can no more form a solar atmosphere than can
the gaseous matter present in the comas and tails of sun-
circling comets.

U nfortunately, one of the most important results of the
recent eclipse observations has been the complete and final
disproof of the .solar character of the corona jMf. Huggins
has succeeded in showing in photographs of the uneclipsed

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNONATLEDGE ♦

sun. We must confess that even the support of Professor
Stokes— who is more cautious than Mr. Huggins himself —
and of Captain Abney, whose photographic experience
counted for much in such a matter, had not seemed to us to
render Mr. Huggins's views about these photographed
coronas probable, strongly though our wishes fiivoured the
hope that lie might be right, after all. Of course, it was not
possible to reject ]\Ir. Huggins's photographed corona as
absolutely and unhesitatingly as we were forced to reject
the fancy of Mr. Brett (the able landscape-painter) that he
could actually see the corona without the aid of an eclipse 1
For Mr. Huggins's hopes were based on scientific pos-
sibility, viz. that the strongly actinic portion of the
corona's light might make its pressure felt where the corona's
light as it aflects vision is demonstraljly too weak to be
discerned. Mr. Brett's fancy never had a trace even of
possibility. The photogi-aphs of the partial eclipse at Cape
Town and of phases preceding totality at the West Indian
stations, unfortunately dispose finally of the idea that Mr.
Huggins had photographed the real corona. For, under
conditions far more favourable for showing the solar corona
(because of the great diminution of atmospheric glare) the
coronal appearances were much fainter, and — an even more
decisive blow — no trace of the moon's form could be traced
on such coronal streaks as appeared. Undoubtedly if the
light around the sun in Mr. Huggins's photographs came
rciilly from the solar corona, the presence of the moon
would have been clearly indicated in the pictm-es. The fact
that the moon is not thus discernible proves that the coronal
appendages seen round the sun belong to a region nearer
than the moon — doubtless, therefore, to our own atmo-
sphere.

Good pliotographs of the corona have been obtained by
Captain Darwin and Mr. Schuster, some of them including
photographs of the coronal spectrum. The corona's light
has been measured by Professor Thorpe ; but we do not
learn how it was differentiated from the light of that portion
of the air above the observer's horizon which was illuminated
by full sunlight, even during mid-totality. It seems almost
impossible to take duly into account the varying condition
of our air in different eclipses, alike in regard to trans-
parency (by which the corona's light is more fully received)
and to light-reflecting power (by which more of the light
falling on the air comes into play to diminish the darkness
of total eclipse).

In reading the very voluminous report of the eclipse
observations in the London Times a somewhat inexact idea
might be conveyed by the circumstance that the results read
as if they were due severally to Lockyer and Tacchini (per-
sistently called Zacchini, such is fame 1) to Darwin and
Lockyer, to Lockyer and Perry, to Schuster and Lockj'er,
to Lockyer and Thorpe, to Maunder and Lockyer, to
Lockyer, and so forth. This will be understood better
perhaps when we note that the report is due solely to Mr.
Lockyer's well-known reporting ingenuity ; the eclipse
itself he omitted to see, because at his station " it was not
in sight." Only one new method is deemed worthy of
special notice by the reporter, Mr. Lockyer's new photo-
graphic method, which must be far superior to all others,
for he says so. It was bound to be a success. It vas a
success. " Mr. Lockyer," says ]\Ir. Lockyer, " will not hear
of want of success; he holds that the problem has been
solved." Only one thing was wanting. " No photographs
have been actually taken " by this method. Who, howevei',
but a paltry caviller would mention such a mere detail as
that ? " In spite of the want of photographs . . . the
problem has been solved " !

ETHNOLOGY OF THE BLACKFOOT TRIBES.

The primitive creation is attributed to a superior divinity,
whom they call the Creator (ApistotoHn), and sometimes
identify with the sun. After this divinity — of whom their
ideas are very vague— had created the watery expanse, another
deity, with the aid of four animals, of which the musk-rat was
the chief, brought some earth from the bottom of the abyss,
expanded it to the present continent, and peopled it with
human beings. This deity is commonly styled by them the
" Old Man " (y'apiir), a name implying, as used by them,
a feeling of affectionate admiration. He is represented as a
powerful but tricksy spirit, half Jupiter and half Mercury.
" He appears," writes M. Lacombe, " in many other tradi-
tions and legendary accounts, in which he is associated with
the various kinds of animals, speaking to them, making use
of them, and especially cheatuig them, and playing every
kind of trick." In this being we recognise at once the
most genuine and characteristic of all the Algonkin divini-
ties. In every tribe of this wide-spread family, from Nova
Scotia to Virginia, and from the Delaware to the Eocky
Mountains, he reappears under various names — Manabozho,
Michabo, Wetuks, Glooskap, Wisaketjak, Napiw— but
everywhere with the same traits and the same history.
He is at once a creator, a defender, a teacher, and at the
same time a conqueror, a robber, and a deceiver. But the
robbery and deceit, it would seem, are usually for some good
purpose. He preserves mankind from then- enemies, and
uses the arts of these enemies to cii'cumvent and destroy
them. In Longfellow's charming poem, he is confounded
with the Iroquois hero, Hiawatha. In Dr. Brinton's view,
his oi-igin is to be found in a Nature-myth, representing
" on the one hand the unceasing struggle of day with night,
light with darkness, and on the other that no less important
conflict which is ever waging between the storm and
sunshine, the winter and summer, the rain and clear sky."

A California Tree. — There was recently felled in
Lonoma County, California, a tree which cut up as follows.
The Petalmna Argus says that the details can be relied
upon. The standing height of the tree was .3-17 ft., and its
diameter near the ground was 14 ft. In falling, the top
was broken off nearly 200 ft. distant from the stump, and
up to the point of breaking the tree was jierfectly sound.
From the tree saw-logs were cut of the following lengths
and diameters: — 1. 14 ft. long, 9 ft. dia. ; 2. 12 ft. long,
8 ft. dia.; 3. 12 ft. long, 7 ft. 7 in. dia.; 4. 14 ft. long,
7 ft. G in. dia.; 5. 16 ft. long, 7 ft. dia.; 6. 16 ft. long,
6 ft. 10 in. dia. ; 7. 16 ft. long, 6 ft. 6 in. dia. ; 8. 16 ft.
long, 6 ft. 4 in. dia.; 9. 16 ft. long, 6 ft. 3 in. dia.; 10.
18 ft. long, 6 ft. dia.; 11. 12 ft. long, 5 ft. 10 in. dia.; 12.
18 ft. long, 5 ft. 6 in. dia. It will thus be seen that 180 ft.
of this remarkable tree were converted into saw-logs.

With reference to the obvious idea pervading Mr. Proctor's
articles on " Americanisms " in the last number of Know-
ledge that the critique La the Saturday Review was written
by me, may I venture to state that I did not write that
paper, that I have not contributed to the Saturchii/ for
years, that I do not know who was the author, that I sup-
plied no facts or material for it, and that I was ignorant
of its very existence till I saw myself accused of having
composed it ? I have written a full denial of the imputation
to Mr. Proctor, and I earnestly trust the mLsapprehension
may not impair a friendship which I value, and have always
valued, very highly. — Grant Allen.

6

KNOWLEDGE *

[November 1, 1886i

THE SOUTHERN NIGHT SKIES.

N the last volume of Knowledge I began a series
of maps of the night skies of the southern
hemisphere, intended^to show them for each
night in the year all the year round. But
a series of blunders and delays on the part
of the engravers, and the most contradictory
misinterpretation of my instructions, prevented
me from carrying out my design. Only three maps of the

duplicate. One map will show the stars down to the third
magnitude, with a few of the smaller stairs when necessary
to complete groups, on a black ground without any names or
lettering. The other will show the same stars on a white
ground, with the names of constellations, Greek lettering
for stars, and other writing and lines for guidance. Each
paper of the series wUl appear two months in advance, so
as to be in good time for readers in Australasia and Cape
Colony. In the first pair, accompanying this, the night

Mai- ]a.

NKiUT SKIES OF AUSTR.\L.\SIi, CAPE COLONY, &C., FOR JANUARY.

series appeared, and those so late as to be scarcely of any
use for the purpose intended.

I now begin the series afresh under more favourable condi-
tions. I propose to present the skies of the southern hemisphere
now, for latitude 38° south, or accurately enough for such
maps, foi all places between latitudes 30° and 45° south, in

skies for January are presented. Tlie maps are for the
following hours : —

At 10 o'clock, December 23.
„ !l| o'clock, December 26.
., "J^ o'clock, December 30.
„ fl| o'clock, January 3.
„ 9 o'clock, January 7.

At Sj o'clock, January 10.
„ sj o'clock, January H.
„ 8| o'clock, January 18.
„ 8 o'clock, January 22.

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNO\A^LEDGE ♦

To the traveller voyaging southwai'ds the skies which in
England lie towards the south at these hours rise higher
and higher, till at length those which had been along the
horizon from east through south to west lie on a circle pass-
ing overhead from east through the zenith to west. The
southern half of our English night skies at any hour is the
northern half of the skies of latitude 38° south at the same
hour, but while our southern horizon stai-s make an arch
overhead with them, their northern horizon stairs make an
arch overhead with us.

Thus the series of maps which is now commenced will
serve, as a moment's study will show, to present our English

magnitude stiir. Below the pole we see the Triangle
(Southern) with Pavo (the Peacock) on the right or west,
Mit^ca (the Fly) and Crux (the Cross). These constella-
tions with the pole, Chama-kon, the Retlculuiii (the Net),
Hi/(lrus (the Water-Snake), and Toucan [the Toucan), are
always visible in the southern region named, being cireum-
polar. Other south polar constellations are not shown,
having no stars higher than the fifth magnitude.

High up in the south-ea.st we see the great ship Argo,
wiong side up with care. Naturiilly the sea-serpent Hydra
is flourishing her mighty length along the horizon under-
neath the masts and sails of the ship.

Map 1*. — Key to Map \a. Night 8kies or .Southern Hemisphere for January.

southern skies (in the upper half of each map) for every
night of every month in the year, the horizontal central line
of the map representing the horizon for this use of the maps,
while it will show the whole of the sky for the southern
hemisphere, the circumference of the map representing the
horizon. Turning to the south we find no polar star. (Mr.
Hampden sajs that there is no pole, but mistakes.) The
nearest star to the pole in our map is k Octantis, a fifth-

Due east is Canis, the Greater Dog, high up, and on his back ;
the Dove, Columba, being perched on the Dog's hind feet.

In the north-east we see Orion on his head, but he makes
nearly as fine a figure if his shoulder stars for our hemi-
sphere are made leg stars for the Southern, and vice versd.
Gemini, the Twins, stand also on their heads, and by no
means suggest the idea of twins.

Taurus is the chief constellation towaids the north at

KNOWLEDGE •

[November 1, 1886.

this time, just as from our hemisphere lie is the chief con-
stellation towards the south. Of course, it will be under-
stood that the movement of Orion, Taurus, and all these
other constellations in the northern skies of the southern
hemisphere, is from east to west, or from I'ight to left.

Overhead, the winding streams of the river Urilamti
e.xtend from near /3 of Oiion to between Phixiux and

Hjjdrus, where the bright Achernar (a Eridani) is seen — a
star now too far south to be seen from thos3 places in the
northern hemisphere, where it used to be seen in the time
when it received its name.

In the .south-west quarter of the sky we see the
Northern Triangle, ArifS (the Ram), Piscf-t (the Fishes),
Cetus, the Sea Monster, and Aqnuriiis, the Water Beirer.

NOKTH Polar Index Map.

A UNIFORM ATL/^S.

WE give this month the north polar index map for the
proposed uniform atlas ; the southern index map will
be given next month, to which occasion (space pressing very

much tlus month) we reserve the explanation of the plan liy
which we propose t« present the wliole surface of the globs
in twelve equal maps, in which the different parts of the
earth will be presented in the same uniform plan and on
the same uniform scale throusrhout.

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

PHOTOGRAPH OF JUPITER.

|HE accompanying photograph of Jupiter, by
the Brothers Henry, is full of promise. It
was taken on April 21, 1886, and is
interesting because of the presence of the
great red spot first detected by Professor
Pritehett, of Glasgow, Missouri, in 1877,
and since carefully and continuously ob-
served by many students of astronomy.
MM. Henry remarks that the red .spot is more striking

and better define! [plus netle) in the photograph than by
direct telescopic vision.

OUR PUZZLES.

OLITTIONS of the three puzzles YII., VIII.,
and IX. are given under the heading
" ilathematical Recreations." I have re.
ceived other solutions of Problems I. and II-
besides those given (one for each puzzle) in
Knowledge for September.

Puzzle I. Nineteen trees may be aiTanged
so as to make nine rows of five ti'ees in the following ways,
the first of which is that stiven as the solution : —

Fir;. 1.

Fig. 3.

Fig. 4.

The.se solutions all possess a certain degree of symmetry, and
all certainly fulfil the conditions of the puzzle as it reached
my hands. I might e.asily modify the conditions of the
problem so that the solution in fig. 1 should be the only one
available. For instjinee, that is the only solution in which
the five trees on each row are so arranged that the middle
tree is at the centre of its row, and the other four form equi-
distant paii-s on either side of it. But instead of hampering
the problem with conditions of detail spoiling it as a puzzle,
I will take a bolder course, and rejjlace it ^\ith a puzzle of
my own invention, and of gi-eater difliculty, thus :^

Puzzle X. Arrange nineteen trees so as to make tek rows
of Jive trees in each row.

Again, sis cords may be stretched between
smaller number, so as to enclcse ten spaces
following ways, the first of which is that I
tion : — ■

nine pegs, or a

in any of the

gave as a solu-

FiG. 5.

Fig 56.

Fig. r.

Here only fig. 5 is symmetrical, and that only in an axial,
not in a central manner. Observe the following distinctions
between these four solutions : —

In fig. 5 there are \ triangles and 6 quadrangles : 9 pegs.

In fig. 6 there are 6 triangles, 2 quadrangles, 2 pen-
tagons : 9 pegs.

In fig. 7 there are 7 triangles, 3 pentiigons : 8 pegs.

In fig. 8 there are 6 triangles, 3 quadrangles, 1 pen-
tagon : 7 pegs.

Not one of these arrangements seems to me quite as good
;is it might be; the arrangements in figs. 6, 7, 8 are alto-
gether unsymmetricjil, and that in fig. 5 has only partial
symmetiy ; while there are too many different shapes in all
the arrangements. I therefore pre.sent in this case also a
new puzzle on the same lines, and almost the same cords and
pegs — a neater puzzle of somewhat greater diflicuUy (though
the completeness of the conditions really indicates the direc-
tion in which a solution is to be found) ; thus —

PizzLE XI. Willi six cords, fastened to nine pegs, enclose
ten spaces of the following forms : —

First, one equilateral hexagon having equal alternate
angles ;

Secondly, three equal ani similar quadrangles, each axially
symmetrical ; *

Thirdly, six equal and similar triangles.

As a third problem, which for symmetry's sake shall be
closely related to our third puzzle, even as these two are
closely related to the first and second, I repeat here a puzzle
which was given and very fully solved in the early numbers
of Knowledge by the ingenious " Mogul" : —

Puzzle XII. Given a rectrnigular carpet of any shape
and size to divide it ivith the fewest possible cuts so as to fit
a rectangular floor of equal size hut of any shape.

* A figure is said to be axially symmetrical when a straight line
can be drawn as an a.xis dividing it into two equal and similar
portions, such that it eitlicr were rotated about said a.'cis through
two right angles it would e.xactly coincide with the other. Thus an
isosceles triangle is axially symmetrical, the bisector of the angle
between the equal sides being its axial line.

10

* KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1886.

MATHEMATICAL RECREATIONS.

[fE interest taken iu the quasi-matbemafcical
jnizzles which have recently appeared in
Knowledge has suggested the idea that
pleasant recreation might be combined with
useful instruction in the properties of
mathematical curves, figures, and so forth,
in a series of papers (not necessarily con-
tinuous), to be called Mathematical Eecreations.

As examples, 1 ttike the three puzzles given in the October
number of Knowledge.

I. The Parabola.— Tho properties of this curve must
of course be studied in treatises on conic sections to be
thoroughly understood ; but many who do not ctxre to enter
into such complete study of the curve as this may be inter-
ested to know how they may pleasantly and prettily con-
struct true parabolas, while others who really are students
of mathematics will gain clearness of insight into the
parabola's properties by constructing the curve in various
attractive yet exact ways.

Of all recreative ways of presenting geometrical curves
none are so pleasing, either in actual construction or in
their effect, as those which show a series of enveloping
tangents, as is required in the puzzle on the parabola. I
give for the present only methods of this kind. (The curves

Fig. 1

may be dealt with in other ways, some of which are perhaps
in a geometrical sense more effective.) All the conic sec-
tions may be represented by enveloping tangents, but the
construction for the parabola is the simplest of all.

Draw lightly in pencil on a card, preferably an enamelled
white or tinted card — only in this case draw the lines on the

unenamelled sides — two straight lines, ab and Ac, fig. 1, at
some such angle as is shown iu the figure. Opening a pair
of dividere to any convenient small distiince, ad or ae,
measure off equal distances along ab and ca as shown.
There is no occasion to divide a given line, ab, into a
number of equal small parts ; simply the measurements go
on from a till a point is reached conveniently near b, and
then similar measurements are made along AC. Tbere
should be the same number of divisions along ab and AC,
and the number should be even, for a reason presently
recognised. Now pierce fine holes through the card at the
division marks, and taking a needleful of tine silk (of any
dark colour if the card is white, but if the card has tint
then it is best to have the silk of the com[ilenientary
colour) carry it from b (where it may be knotted on the
under side) to A, thence under the card to come out at e
and from e to f, thence under the card to c;, and from g to
H, and so on. If the number of divisions was originally
even, yon arrive in this way at a line km, and going on,
you finish with the lines dn and CA, completing the series
of thwart lines. Each of these lines is a tangent to a
parabola having its axis on the bisector of the angle bac,
and the lines drawn as described show the true shape of a
parabola very effectively by giving a .series of enveloping
tangents. You may now draw bc and bisect in n, con-
necting Are with a line of silk. This line bisects km as
at a, which is the vertex of your silken parabola. If
your work has been con-ectly done, all the correspondiug
tangent lines from au and Ac cro.-<s on Are.

To mark in the focus of your jiarnbola, the construction
indicated in the figure is all that is necessary. Di-aw any
straight line, as Ikl', i)arallel to km or bc, and take kl and
kl', each equal to twice uk. Then drawing hi, W , you have
lines intersecting the parabola at the extremities of the lahis
rectum, lsl', cutting an in the focus s. These lines of con-
struction should be drawn in pencil, lightly, before the
parabola is obtained from its silken envelopes. Afterwards
])ierce the card at h and l', and take a silken line lsl'.
Around the focus s a little star may be made (with yellow
rays) as shown in the figure.

The following features may be noticed : —

(1) Such intersection points as h, h, h', (fee, p;)//, &c., lie on
lines parallel to \n. By an optical illusion, it will be found
that if we run the eye from any division point (as ii) on ab
AC to the series (as h,h', itc.) really lying on a line parallel
to AW, the idea is conveyed that the line so followed curves
inwards towards Are.

(2) If we take points P, /;, c, kc, or m,;j, //, </, itc, running
from any division point along AC or ab athwart the other
diagonals of the quadrangular divisions, we get a series
of points lying on a parabola having its axis in the
line Are.

(3) The alternate parallels thus obtained are diameters
through o,o', L, l', etc., the points in which the enveloping
tangents of our figure touch the parabola.

(4) If we take any point, as o, in which one of the
tangents touches the parabola, then a series of lines, nL',
o'm, Lq, rr , d-c, obtained by joining the successive points of
tangential contact on either side of o, will be parallel to
each other and to the tangent at o ; so that they will be
ordinates to the diameter through o.

II. The Ellipse. — This, of all the conic sections, is the
least convenient to deal with in the manner we are con-
sidering. Here, however, is a construction, the reason and
demonstration of which I leave the student to deduce for
himself : —

Let CA, CB be the half axes of the ellipse we want to
draw. Complete the rectangle cbda, and the quadrant fde.
Divide bf and ae at G, h, k, l, etc., and p, Q, R, kc, so that

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

11

the spaces between the divisions rapidly diminish as shown
(no special construction is necessary). Then proceed as fol-
lows : Opening a pair of dividers to span ca, keeping the
end of one leg at c, mark the point ;/ on bd with the other ;
then opening to span b^, and setting the end of one leg at
c, mark the point ;/' on en with the other ; do the like,
starting with the span cii, getting the point h' ; and so get
a series of division marks //', h', k, I' , m', n', and o' on CB ;
dividing ad similarly at «' (such that dg' = b,7'), h', k', ifec.
Again, opening a compass to span cp, mark the point p on
AD, having end of one compass-leg at c, and with span Ap
measure off Fp' ; do the like, starting from the span cq,
getting the point q' ; and so get a series of division marks
p', q,' r' , s', and t' on cA, dividing bd similarly at p' (such
that DP'=Ap'), q', r', s', and t'. - »-

Now join FE, gg', hh', kk', ll', ikc, pp', qq', rr', Ac.
The lines thus drawn will envelop tangentially a quadrant
of an ellipse having cb and ca as semi-axes.

If, having carefully made this construction in pencil, we
prick off corresponding division marks on the two diameters

Fig- 2.

of which f E and cf are the halves, and on the four sides of the
incloi-ing rectangle (bd and da being halves of two of tliese
sides), prick off division marks corresponding to those on
DY, . DX (ydx is half a square), we obtain the tangential
envelopes of the complete ellipse. The resulting figure has
a somewhat singular appearance, the ellipse seeming strangely
cut out from within the inclosing circle of which fde is a
fourth.

The same figure may be formed, more quickly, by making
two direct tracings of fig. 2, and two inverted tracings
(these can be made by turning the figure with its fate
towards a glass sheet, and tracing from behind by n^eans of
the light received through the glass), and combining these
four figures info one.

III. The Hyperbola. — There are sevei-al ways of obtain-
ing an hyperbola by means of a series of enveloping tangents.
Hereafter I shall introduce a prettier and more symmetrical

method than that which I present here ; but this will serve
as a convenient companion to the methods used for the other
conic sections.

Let c be tlie centre, ca a femi-axis, and CD, cji' the
asymptotes of the proposed hyperbola. Along nc take the
points E, F, G, nearing each other towards c. Let parallels
(not drawn in the figine) through d to d'e, d'f, and d'g cut

Fig. 3.

cd' produced in e', /', y' ; and make the divisions along C(/
and eg' ahke, in the points e, f, and </, g' f', and e'. Then
join by straight lines go', JV, eE', dd', Ee', f/'', and g//'.
These lines will envelop the required hyperbola — that half
which lies within the space goj'. The other half can be
similarly obtained.

THE SCHOOLGIRLS' PUZZLE.

^ HE problem of arranging fifteen schoolgirls
so that they may walk out in sets of three,
seven days in succe.'sion, no two giils bein"
in the same set of three twice, has been
rather fully dealt with in Vol. I. (No. 9)
Vol. If. (No. .35), and Vol. III. (Nos. 73 and
79 — twenty-one schoolgirls to walk ten days
in sets of three). The general discussion cannot, I find, be pre-
sented in a manner suited to these columns, as considera-
tions of some complexity presently arise. But the followin"
points may be noted in regard to problems of this class.

First, take such a problem as the pairing of an even
number of chefs. players as in tournaments, where each
player is to meet one opponent each day till he has met all,
the encounters on each day all beginning at the same time.
Or, if we must have schoolgirls in the puzzle, let an even
number of schoolgirls have to walk in pairs, day after day,
each having a different partner on each day until she has
walked with all the rest.

This puzzle or problem can always be very easily soWed
as follows.

12

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1886.

Calling the several giils a, b, c, d, &c., write down all
the combiiiatious of the set, in pairs, in order thus : —

AB, AC, AD, AE, AF, &C.

EC, BD, BE, BF, &C.

CD, CE, CF, &C.

DE, DF, <fcc.

EF, &C.

&C.

Then repeating the first row, write under it in succession
such of the pairs of the second, third, fourth, &c., rows in
succession as can walk with the pairs in the first row. Do
the like with the pairs in the third and other rows, always
putting in the next available pair on a row in the first
available place, and filling up according to tlie requirements
for each day's walk, that Ls, so that every girl may go out
each day. The result is bound to come out right.

Thus, suppose there are eight girls. A, b, c, d, e, f, g, h,
then the lists come out as follows : —

1st day. 2nd day. 3rd day. 4th day. 5th day. 6th day. 7tli day.

AB AC AD AE AF AG AH

CD BD BE BF EG BH BC

EG EH CP CG CH CE DG

EH EG GH DH DE DF EF

But although this method always solves the problem satis-
factorily, there is a more systematic plan worth knowing. It
was given by Mephisto in Vol. III. of Knowledge (No. 71).
The solution for the case we have just been dealing with is
shown in the following figure : —

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

A

— 112

3

4

5

6

7

B

1 ' - 1 3

4 ! 5

6

7

2

C

2 3

—

5 6

7

1 ! 4

D

3 4

5

— 7

1

2 1 6

E
F

4 [ 5

6

7

—

2

3

1

5 i 6

7

1

2

—

4

3

G

6 7

i

1

2

3

4 — i 5

H

7 1 2

4

6

1

3

5

—

Here the letters represent the eight girls, the seven days
on which they are to walk are indicated by the numbers,
and a number on any row and column signifies that on the
day bearing that number the two persons represented by the
two letters marking that row and that column are to walk
together. Thus those squares running diagonally across the
figure which mark severally a row and a column belonging
to the same person remain, of course, unnumbered. The
numbers on the first row and column are 1,2, 3, 4, 5, 6,
and 7, showing that A is to walk on the seven successive
days with b, c, d, e, f, g, and H. Next, according to
Mephisto's way of presenting the method, write in along
the second low and column the numbers in order from 1
(at the left and top respectively), omitting the square which
is to be left vacant, and setting the number 2, which would
have fallen on that square, on the last row and the right-
band column respectively. We do the same with the third
row and column, setting the omitted figure, 4, over to the

bottom and to the right ; and .so on to the end. We thus
complete a schedule, which would arrange the girls as
follows : —

1st day. 2nd day. 3rd daj'. 4th day. 5th day. Gthday. 7th day.

AB

AC

AD

AE

AF

AG

AH

CG

BH

BC

BD

BE

BF

EG

DF

DG

EG

CH

CD

CE

CF

EH

EF

FH

FG

GH

DH

DE

The 7-aiionale of this method is obvious. Omitting the h row
and the h column, and supposing the vacant squares occu-
pied by the numljers left out in the actual solution, we see
that the successive rows may be supposed to be obtained by
shifting the pi'eceding row one square to the left and carry-
ing the square thi'ust out in this way on the left over to the
right. This, of course, ensures that every number will fall
in succession opposite each letter both on I'ow and on column,
so that, applying the result, each person of the .set, whether
of schoolgirls or of chess-players, will be paired against every
other in succession. The same result may be obtained more
conveniently, however, as follows : —

.A

1

B

2

3

C

3

4

5

D

4

5

6

7

E

5

6

7

1

2

r

6

7

1

2

3

4

G

7

1

2

3

4

5

6

A

B

C

D

E

r

G

Here we have only seven letters, but interpreting the
numbers as in the other method, we see that on certain
days we get aa, bb, cc, &c. Introducing in each case an
eighth letter h, for the second member of these doubles, and
taking the columns in order from left to right, we get the
following arrangement : — ■

1st day.

2nd day.

3rd day.

4th day.

5 th day.

6th day.

7th day

AH

AB

AC

AD

AE

AF

AG

BG

CG

BH

BC

BD

BE

BF

CF

DF

DG

EG

CH

CD

CE

DE

EH

EF

FH

FG

GH

DH

the same arrangement as before. This plan is not only
easier and simpler, but it serves better, I think, to indicate
the principle on which the method depends. We see that
each number representing a day must come in four times,
and must get a different ])air of letters for each time it
appears. Take, for example, the Gth day, and begin with
the 6 in the first column, which gives us the pair af ; the
next 6 being one to the right and one above takes the pair
BE ; the next takes the pair CD ; and we see that the
remaining 6 corresponds to gg, and so gives the pair gh.
We can also see why the number which in the other way of
working this method would fall on the square to be left
vacant is carried over to column and row belonging to the
eighth letter.

My plan is also convenient because the same figures may
be used for all cases. Suppose the first seven lines above
only shown, and that the first column is continued by
running on the letters in order, the other columns by

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

13

running on the numerals, fresh columns being added at the
right, then bj- setting a strip bearing the lettei^s a, b, c, ic,
as in the lowest row of the figure above, at whatever dis-
tance from the top the number of schoolgirls or chess-
players may require, we have at once the solution for that
number.

The number of letters in this method will be odd, and
the letter afterwards added making the total number even.
Obviously, if the total number is 2ii, there will be n pairs
each (lay, and (2;* — 1) days of difterent arrangements.

With regard next to the tifteen schoolgirls. In the
numbers above referred to several methods are given for
dealing with problems of the kind, where the division is into
sets of three. But the 1.5 may be dealt ivith thus : — -

^Ye i-equire all the 15 to go out, each day, in threes, for
seven days. There will thus be 35 sets of thi-ee, no two of
one set being found in any other. If we can find such 3-5
sets, we shall have solved the problem, for it will then be
easy to t;ike these sets five and five, each five containing all
the 15 girls. This being so, we might solve the problem by
a hammer-and-tongs method — writing down all the 455
combinations, and then selecting 35 fulfilling the condition
indicated, and arranging these as required. Thus our sets
of combinations and our work of sifting out would begin
like this—

Combinatious. Nnmber. Xo. Taken.

ABC, ABD, ABE, ABO 13 ABC

ACD, ACE, ACQ 12 none

ADE, ADO 11 ADE

AMN, A3I0 2 none

ANO 1 ASO

91

BCD, BCE,

BCF

BCG

.BCO

12

none

BDE,

BDF

BDG

.BDO

11

BDE

BEF

BEG

..BEG

10

BEG

BFG

..BFG

9
2

none

BilX,

BMO

BMO

BNO

1

78"

none

6

^=

CDE, CDF,

CDG,

CDH

.CDO

11

CDG

CEF,

CEG,

CEH

.CEO

10

CEF

CFG,

CFH

.CFO

9

none

CGH

.CGO

2

CMS,

CMO

CMX

CXO

1
66

none

6

DEF, DEG

..DEL,

DEJI

DEO

10

none

DFG

..DFL,

DF.M

DFO

9

"i

none

..DHL,

DIIM....

.DHO

DHL

..DIL,

D1.M

6

..DJL,

DJJI

..DKL,

DKM...

DKO

4

"i

DNO

none

55

And so on to the end. (I have given the d combinations
more fully than the others, to show how as the end draws
near the combinations available have to be sought further

along the rows.) Proceeding in this way we get the follow-
ing 35 combinations : —

ABC
ADE
AFG
AHI
AJK
ALM
AXO

BDF
BEG
BHJ
BIK
BLy
BMO

CDG
CEF
CHK
CIJ
CLO
CMX

DHL

EHH

1
FHN

DIM

EIL

FIO j

DJN

LJO

FJL

DKO

EKN

FKM

GHO
GIN
GJM

GKL

These thirty-five combinations can be obtained more con-
veniently, however, by a method which was suggested in
Knowledge, Vol. I. (No. 9). (I fear the volume is out of
print.) The follo^ving is a simplified explanation. The
plan depends on putting down fii-st all the available com-
binations teginning with a, viz., abc, ade, afg, ahi, .vjk,
ALM, AXO ; then taking the fourteen lettei-s without a, and
out of them making all the available combinations beginning
with b and c, six of each ; then those beginning with D, E,
F, and G, four of each. The best way of doing this is
illustrated in the following figure, where the dots stand for
the letters similarly situated in the a column : —

ABC

H I

NO

B9

I
11
II

"X
X
X

This gives the same arrangement as before. (The arrange-
ment should be compared with the above figure, when any
difliculty as to the interpretation of the dots will be at once
removed.)

If we now make sets of fifteen out of these combinations

of three, we do not at once get the arrangement required ;

but each trial requires only a few minutes, and there are

not more than three or four cases to be dealt with. We

presently obtain the following arrangement : —

1st day. 2nd day. 3rd day. 4th day. .5th day. 6th day. 7th day.

ABC ADE AFG AHI AJK ALM ANO

DIM BLN BMO BEG BDF BHJ BIK

EJO CHK CIJ CLO CMX CEF CDG

FHX FIO DHL DJN GHO GIN EHM

GKL GJM EKX FKM EIL DKO FJL

In like manner other cases can be dealt with where sets of
three are in question. The numbei-s of Knowledge above
mentioned contain general rules and methods for such cases.
The problem relating to the sixteen whist-players, who
are to sit down at four tables on five successive evening.s, so
that no two shall play twice in the same set of four, was of
my own invention. When I set it I had not solved it, but
I knew on general principles that it must admit of being
solved. It has proved a trifle tougher than I expected, but
is not very difficult. I defer the solution for a month,
because I find that it depends on another problem relating
to sets of three, which may be thus presented : —

Problem. — How may twelve schoolyirh go out tline, and
three on four days, and then four and four on a fifth day (or
twelve whist-players lAay single dummy four days and the
full game on a fifth day, each day retainiiiy their ])laces un-
changed throughout), in such a way that no two will twice
belong to the same set whether triplet or giiadruplet ?

The solution of this problem, as well as that of the problem
of sixteen whist-play ei^s, will be given next month.

14

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1886.

NOTES ON AMERICANISMS.

By Richard A. Proctor.

HE amazingly and amusingly false assertions
in the Saturday Review about my " Notes
on Americanisms," and especially the state-
ment (wittingly untrue, I fear) that I was
writing on a subject, in th-s aise, which I
had not studied, were, of course, corrected,
for all who know anything about America,
by the blundering sequel, in which the critic mistook at
least four of every five phrases which he undertook to
explain. But it occurred to me at the time that I might
present evidence from my note-books of travel to show that
American talk had received more than a mere passing
attention from me during my widely ranging travels
through the United States and Canada. On referring to
my notes, however, I found that they were scarcely suited
for such use, as the talk quoted ran for the most part into
mere scraps — useful enough in forming a glossary, but not
worth separate quotation.

One case, however, seemed an exception. I found a
fairly connected conversation recorded (the morning after it
was heard) which not only illustrates one class of American
talk among the uncultured, but also a peculiarity of
Americixn manners — viz. the freedom with which in
America the ubiquitous "lout "is allowed to annoy and
interrupt persons who are unfortunate enough to be near
him. In places like the theatre, the concert-room, and the
lecture hall a noisy or ill-mannered neighbour is objection-
able even to a man who cares nothing for class distinctions.
In America one can never be quite sure that, instead of the
play or music or lecture one has paid for, one may not have
to endure the foolish chatter or the offensive manners of
some boor who has apparently come in for no other purpose
but to annoy his neighbours. In the old country, I know,
such a boor may find admission among respectable persons ;
but if he will not behave properly he will quickly be shown
the way out. It is otherwise in America. Freedom seems
to include the light to annoy every one within sight and
hearing, just as m\ich as any boors pi-esent may see fit.
At least, I have often seen a company enduring the mis-
conduct of such folk with only muttered comj)laints ; and I
have never seen even the most offensive person turned out.

Occasionally an experience of this kind has its amusing
aspect. Instead of a play one may have a farce, which,
though not precisely what one has come to hear, may be
almost as entertaining.

I wa.s amused, for instance, in this way, for a while at leaat,
one evening in 1880 at Haverley's Theatre, Chicago, where
I had gone to hear Paola Marie in the part of Serpolette.
Two men sat behind me, who could scarcely have come to
hear the " Cloches de Corneville," as neither of them under-
stood a word of French or listened to a note of the music.
They were accompanied by a quiet-looking Frenchwoman, of
middle age, who had probably come there expecting a plea.sant
evening in listening to her clever Countrywoman on the
stage. If th.it was her hope, I fear she was disappointed.
Her companions, of whom she seemed heartily ixshamed,
talked I'ambling nonsense nearly the whole time — nonsense
dreary enough in the recital, though it amused me at the
time, even in the midst of my annoyance at the loss of
Meziferes' good acting and Paola Marie's good acting and
singing.

Here is the record of their conversation, as made at the
time. It is not quite continuous, for occasionally they went out
(" to see a man," as they explained to their companion), and
sometimes I was able for awhile to fix my attention wholly
on the stage, even while they talked. For convenience I

call them P. I. and W. I. — for Partly Inebriate and Wholly
Inebriate : —

P. I. " Them gals in tights is having a deal of chin-play."

W. I. " What in Hades " (he was more moncsyllabic) " is
it all about, any way f (A pause.) That little one ain't got
no manners — not to saij manners — .she ain't."

P. I. " You bet she ain't."

W. I. " She's another fraud. Why in h — don't they get
one that can act like a lady should I " (Paola Marie was
impersonating Serpolette charmingly while thus apprecia-
tively criticised.)

Exeunt P. I. and W. I. to " .see a man," as they explained
to the lady. It is customary now to say that the man is
" the person who dispenses cloves " ; but if my two philo-
sophic friends had allied on such a man, his cloves must
have been of inferior quality, for the smell of whisky which
diffused itself around them was not perceptibly tempered by
any foreign aroma. They had become more solemn than
before. In fact the amusement they gave me resided as
much, I suspect, in the melancholy gi-avity of their de-
meanour and the solemnity of their nasal tones, as in what
they actually said : —

W. I. (Appare7itli/ continuhig a philosojjkic discussion.)
" A man only knows what he learns. . . . Yes, sir. . . .
Yes I ... a man has to learn if he wants to know."

P.I. {As one suddenly enlightened.) " Thet's so."

W. I. " Yes, sir. You may bet your bottom dollar on
that. . . . It's so (a pause as nfprofound mental labour).
Yes, sir. A man has to learn what he knows. ... A man
ain't got to ciire what Bob Ingersoll says ; nor yet what
Moses says ; nor what Beecher says. He's got to find it out
for himself. . . . It's so with every man. . . . He may be
bald like that old coot over there (pointini/), or be as thick
of wool as a nigger — or he may lie grey — or brown — or
black haired. ... I don't care (reflectively) if he's tiill or
short — or if his eyes is blue or black or grey. . . You bet
it's all one. . . . He's got to find out all he knows."
(Hiccoughs.)

P. I. (Takinej advantage of a pause in the sluggish flow
of the others eloquerice.) " Say, old man, let's have another
drink."

W. I. " Not now, I won't. I'll drink when I want to,
not else " (amjrily).

Woman (gently). " Sh — sh ! you distarb ze peoples."

W. I. " I don't cai-e a lamb's mother (one of the monosyl-
labic kind) for ze peoples. I didn't ask them to come — and
(gloomily) I don't cju-e a curse* how soon they go."

P. I. (After a pause, during irhich he seemed to eye IF. /.
rather dviibtfully, as if thinking he miglit hy chance have
takenone drop too much.) " What are they laughing at now t "

Just here there had been the usual by-play on the stage.
Serpolette pulls the pen from behind the Notary's ear, who
exclaims : " jVe me deplumez pas, mademoiselle ; ne me
deplutnez J}a8 ! "

W. I. " If they'd talk in English we should know what it
was all about. How much is there of this thing any way 1 "

W. I. tries to recall the subject he had been dealing with
before. Remembering it suddenly, he lesumes.

W. I. " Well, I was a-saying ixs every man has to le;irn all
he knows. I remember I was down in Iowa once — down in
Iowa I was — and I met a man there — a Buckeye. Yes, sir,
he came from Chillicothe, Ohio. I had thirteen thousand
dollars, greenbacks — and he had fourteen thousand in bonds.
Well, sir, we got a- talking about jest this pint of philosophy,
and he says, ' Bloss,' he says — that's my given name, Bloss

* Here the well-read reader recalls at once Chaucer's " He sette
not a kers." Our " curse ' used in this way is simply a profane
corruption for the old English " leers " for " cress ; " " he cared not a
cress," " he recked not a rush," and so on.

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

15

is ; the other's my other name, but Bless is my given name
— 'you know me, don't you ? ' " (doubtiwjly).

P. I. " You bet I do."

W. I. " Well, I was a-saying. This Buckeye, he says,
' Bloss,' he says, ' a man has to pay for what he learns.
And you bet thet's so. Every man has to pay. I don't
mind who he is. Every man hivs to pay just the same 1
{A pause for /urther reffection on this point.) . . . And if
he's a fool he has to pay a damd sight more."

P. I. " Thet's real true — -yes, sir, thet's so."

W. I. " You bet it is. I don't care what a man has. He
may have five dollars or five hundred thousand — it comes to
just the same. Now this man (pointing at me, or in mij
direction), he mayn't know what a hundred dollars is."

P. I. (entJiusiasticalhf). " Thet's so."

W. I. " No, sir {dreamUtj, having apparently lost the
thread of his discourse, irhich mas unfortunate, as he had
not made much progress so far). He doesn't kuow any-
thing at all about it. . . . Some men never earned a dollar
in their lives. I despise that lot ... I don't mind what a
man has, so he's earned it. . . , Not if he ain't nary a cent.
. . . What is it Burns says 1 ' A man's a man, if he's only
in a nutshell, and eh that, and eh that ' " (a quotation not
generally known ; I give it as he gave it). " Yes, sir — ' a
man's a man for eh that.' "

P. I. " You bet." [In a subdued voice, as of one moved
hij a solemn truth).

W. I. "What are all them gells about now? — them in
tights ? What are they anyway t "

P. I. " I saw some like them at the op'rer a month ago.
They called them paggies (<(uery, pages?) in the bill; but
these don't seem quite right."

W. I. " Paggies 1 {thoughtfuUi/). ... Is that so? (A
patise ; then still more thoughtfully) I ii\int to know."

W. I. " This is all durned rot. That would do for a
joss-house " (referring to the phantom scene).

P. I. "Shall we go?"

W. I. " I guess we've had about enough."

P. I. " Shall we go, niarm ? "

\\'0MAN. " I shall be veil content."

They rise to go.

Myself {sotlo voce). " Thank Heaven 1 " (Music sud-
denly ceases. W. I., with a drunken man's keen hearing,
catches my words, and resents my pious aspiration.)

W. I. (suspiciously). " Stranger, what are you a-thanking
Heaven ibr ? "

ISIyself (blandly). " For all mercies, past, present, and
to come — or go, as the case may be."

W. I. " I don't know so much about that."

IMysELF. " About thanking Heaven ? "

W. I. " A man may thank Heaven. So he may."

Myself. " So I should imagine."

Vf. 'I. (effusively). " Say, stranger ! Won't you smile?"
(I had been smiling unremittingly; I could not help it.
But in Americ;i " smiling," " seeing a man," and " licjuoring
up " are all one.)

IMyself (anxious not to lose Mezieres' fiie acting, and
therefore turning to stage). " No, thank you. I have left
ofl^ smiling for to-day."

Exeunt slowly W. I., P. I., and Woman, W. I. saying
meditatively, as he passed from behind me, "I don't quite make
that stranger out. He seems to me sorter ambiguous like."

P. I. "Here's your hat."

W. I. " Thet's so " . . . (contemplating it as one might
contemplate a long-lo.st friend) ..." Yes, sir, that's my hat."

Woman. " An' your gra' coat."

W. I. (same busiyiess). " Yes ; that's my overcoat."

If the reader is half as weary of my wholly and partially
intoxicated friends, and the nonsense they talked, as I was,
he will appreciate the possibilities of annoyance in an
American thaatre. Yet not one of a score of persons
around who lost the performance they had come to see,
through the ignorance and stupidity of these two louts,
addressed any remarks to them, or made any suggestion as
to their withdrawal.

I may remark that the word " paggies " is here in-
terpreted as I suppose it was meant. Pages are not very
familiar in the Western States, and I suppose one of my
louts, seeing the word " pages " in a playbill, and conscious
that the pages of a book were not referred to, concluiled
that some foreign kind of servitors were meant, and that
the word was to be pronounced with a hard " g " to dis-
tinguish it from printed pages. But one is apt to make
mistakes about such matters, and my friend's " paggies "
may have meant something else.*

Next month my "Notes on Americanisms" will be con-
tinued in glossary foi'm.

BIRTH OF THE SUN.

O the legends of the sun-god's birtli referred
to in the last three numbers many others
might be added. In fact, there arc innu-
merable stories of the same kind, relating to
the l>irth and babyliood of sun gods, or solar
heroes, or persons who (long after their
death) weie regarded as divine, and there-
fore as necessarily distinguished by all such attributes as
ancient solar religions liad assigned to the God of the Day
and of the Year. In the old world, as well as in the new,
the Slime ideas naturally arose, and were as naturally
extended to persons who had been distinguished during their
lives as teachers or as legislators, and around whom after
their death traditions belonging to far earlier days cauje
naturally to cling. Let these examples, however, sufiice.

Before leaving the consideration of the circumstances
attending the birth of the sun-god, one point remains to be
noticed. It would be natursil, of course, in the history of
the birth of the actual sun-god — whether as born at morn (the
dark cave of night being his birthplace), or as born at the
opening of the year in the midst of the dark and cold cave of
winter — that the glory of the sun should be mentioned.
This in the account of persons regarded as divine, and there-
fore a.s showing the signs of the godhead visibly, would sug-
gest naturally the idea of a bright light surrounding the
child at its birth. All lesser lights also would disap|)ear in
the presence of this more glorious illumination. The dis-
appearance of the lesser lights has been regarded as explain-
ing the idea of the slaughter of other children by the tyrant
Kansa, in order that Crishna, whose future power had
been predicted, should be destroyed also. In the case of
nearly every solar hero, and also in the case of many per-
sons more or less historic to whom solar characteristics were
afterwards assigned, we find the same idea, either .as a story
relating to a decree for destroying other children born at the

* There is an odd example in "David Coppertield" of a correctly
noted but misunderstood oddity of expression — at least .so I
imagine. Barkis, talking of young Copperfield, speaks of him as a
" young Rocshus," " by which," saj-s David — that is, Dickens — " I
think he meant prodigy." It seems likely that Dickens had heard
the expression, just as ho h.ad heard " Mawthcr," when at
Yarmouth, and supposed it to be Norfolk dialect, quoting and
explaining it in the same waj' that he explains ViJords really belong-
ing to Eastern Counties' talk. But probably, whoever used the
word in Dickens's hearing, as Barkis is made to do, meant " young
Roscius." At about the time when " David Copperfield " was
written the " young Roscius " was talked about all over England.

16

♦ KNO>ArLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1886.

same time, or in refei-ence to measures taken to destroy by
exposure or otherwise the child itself whose predicted power
was feared. In one or other form the idea appears in every
solai' story, and in all solarised biographies— if I may be
allowed, for convenience, to coin such an expression. As
regards the bright light attending the birth of the solar
hero, or of the solarised teacher or legislator, we have a
number of curious illustrations.

When Crisbna was born, his mother became resplen-
dent (remember hei'e how the rays of the rising sun at
the winter solstice shone full upon Virgo). The whole
cave was splendidly illuminated, says the Vishnu
Purana, " the quarters of the horizon were irradiated
with joy — the spirits and nymphs of heaven danced
and sang, the clouds emitted low, pleasing sounds." Beal,
in Ids " History of the ]!uddha," relates how, accord-
ing to Buddhist traditions, when the Saviour of the world
was born, " a divine light diffused itself around his person,
the Blessed One being heralded into the woiid by a super-
natural light." Zoroaster, the great teacher, of whom later
it was found that he sprang from an immaculate conception
by a ray of divine reason, was no sooner born than the
glory arising from his body enlightened the whole room, and
he laughed joyfully at his mother (Laughter and Light were
and are closely associated in the oriental mind). The legends
of the Hebrew patriarchs relate that at the birth of Moses
a bright light appeared and shone all around him ; his sub-
sequent adornment with " horns " or rays will be remem-
bered by all readers of the Greek and Latin versions of the
Old Testament.

In early Christian art we find the same idea associated
with the birth of Christ. The gospel, however, in which
the event is recorded, is no longer regarded as canonical.
Indeed, nothing but an amazing intensification of Augustine's
power of believing, because a matter was beyond belief
(" Credo quia incredihile," he said), would enable men to ac-
cept the Protevangelion. Thus does the .story run in that
apocryphal gospel : — When INIary and Joseph were still three
miles from Bethlehem, and " in a desert place," Mary slid
to Joseph, " Take me down from off the ass, for that which
is within me mightily presses me." Then lie took her down
from off the ass, and found there a Give and put her into it.
He went towards Bethlehem for a midwife, and brought one
back with him. As they neared the cave a bright cloud
was seen over it. " But on a sudden the cloud became a
great light in the cave, so that their eyes could not be.ar it."

It is noteworthy that Tertullian, Jerome, and other
of the Fathers state that Christ was born in a cave, and add
that " the heathen celebrated, in their day, the birth and
mysteries of their Lord and Saviour Adonis in this very
cave near Bethleliem ! " Canon Farrar appears to lean to the
idea that the old tradition was right, and that " the actual
place of Christ's birth was a cave," the same which " used to
be shown as the scene of the event even so early as the time
of Justin Martyr (a.d. 150)" — a dangerous doctrine, one
would suppose.

Under the very aiipropriate title of '• The Handy ]\Iap of
the Moon," Messi's. Home, Thorn thwaite, k Wood have just
brought out a platinotvpe reproduction of a large chart of
our satellite, drawn by Mr. T. K. Mellor, F.E.A.S. The
image of the moon in this capital map is about ll'l inches
in diameter ; and the names of something like three hundred
of the principal formations are legibly and conspicuously
written against them upon it. It would be difficult to
devise anything more useful and convenient for reference,
by the light of a lantern, to the young working selonographer,
inasmuch as not the slightest crowding or confusion is per-
ceptible in any part of the map.

THE NATURALIST'S LABORATORY.

Contribution IV.

N continuation of the subject of suitable illu-
ininatois for the laboratory, we have yet to
discuss the various forms of gas lamps and
burners of the most approved types.

As to the gas itself, many important inven-
tions have been instituted in recent years to
economise in consumption and to increase
Illuminating power. Many of the bye-products of
distillation which are lost during the process of manu-
facture of the gas are of the first importance when
the intensity of its light is taken into considera-
tion, and lamps have been constructed to restore the
naj)hthalene in the case of the well-known al bo-carbon
burner, \vhilst the so-called similar " carboleine " is made
use of in Weston's patent " Omega " and the " Carburetter
Lamp." By these means considerable saving is etleeted ; as
much as twice the illuminating power is produced at about
one-third of the original expense. It is well for those who use
gas also to know of the existence of governors for regulating
the pressure of supply to the dome.stic pipes, as such varia-
tions cannot always be avoided in the gas mains. Un-
doubtedly the best form of apparatus in the market is that
called after its inventor, the "Stott" self-acting gas valve.
The object of this invention is to prevent over-pressure and
the consequent waste therefrom. The modus operandi is : —
Any excessive pressure immediately acts on an inverted
cup, sealed in an annular trough filled with quicksilver.
To the centre of the inverted cup is attached a spindle, at
the bottom end of which is a double-beat valve, a high
pressure raising the inverted cup, and thus closing the valve,
while a low pressure allows it to fall, thus opening it; for
instance, if 50 out of 100 lights lie turned off there will be
a corresponding increase of pr&ssure on the inverted cup,
raising and thereby closing the valve partially, so that for
every light turned off or on, or any increase or decrease at
the street mains, there is a corresponding opening or closing
of the valve in the governor, the pressure at the burner
thus being the same under any circumstances, and the
result being a saving of from 10 to 30 per cent., varying
according to the pressure at which the gas is supplied to the
consumers.

The form of the gas.l)urner is said by Dr. A. Vernon
Harcourt to have added in the cases of the fishtail, bat-
wing, and Argand types, " as much as 20 or even 50 per
cent, to the light obtainable or commonly obtained from a
given consumption of gas. To produce a steady and
brilliant flame the gas must issue in a stow stream and
spread into a sheet, fan-shaped or cj'lindrical, of suitable
thickness, so that the hydrocarbons may be decomposed by
heat and partial combustion along the central plane, and
the resulting smoke may continue to burn and glow as it
spreads outwards for as long as is consistent 'with the
development of a sufficiently high temperature, and then
may meet the outer air so suddenly and over so large a
surface as to be completely consumed."

Burners are also made by means of which heated air is
supplied to the flame, as already alluded to, in order to
increa.se its illuminating power. It has been found that
the ordinary gas-burner in general use does not ]jrovide
sufficient heat for the ignition and comi)lete combustion of
the carbonated gas, so that a waste of material results, and
with the loss of light the atmosphere becomes polluted by
the products of combustion added to by liberated free gas,
and thus the apartment is liable to be filled with a noxious
element and a powerful an.-esthetic • — conditions which
operate directly to make one drowsy and weak. To

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

17

effectually prevent both of these evils, and to gain fresh
light, Dr. Sir William Siemens and Herr F. Siemens
conducted a series of exhaustive experiments, with the
result which is now known as the " Regenerative System,"
which consists in supplying the flame with heated air
and gas to enable it to effect complete decomposition
of the carboniferous gas. " The apparatus comprises three
parts : the biu-ner proper, the regenerator (in which the
gas and air necessary for the combustion is previously
heated) in contact with the sides of the flue, which sucks
down and carries oti" the products of combustion. The
burner is formed by a ring of small vertical copper tubes of
about tbi-ee-sixteenths of an inch in diameter, and of which
the number varies from sixteen to thirty-two, according to
the size of the apparatus. The gas, in passing up these
tubes, becomes still more heated without acquii-ing a suffi-
ciently high temperature to become decomposed. The rela-
tively large diameter of the burner tubes has the double
advantage of preventing any deposit of soot and of check-
ing the too rajiid flow of gas. The products of combustion
are continuously returned l:>y a downward current to the
interior of the bui'ner itself, and there utilised to heat fresh
gas and air prior to use. The result is that combustion by
this method is absolutely perfect.* These regenerative gas-
burners need not be ungainly in ajjpearance ; on the con-
trary, there is even scope for increased elegance of design.
It may be worthy of suggestion here that the fittings of the
laboratory ought always to embriice artistic principles where
practicable, for labour, like digestion, is accelerated when
general sensation is rendered suitabh' pleasant.

The incandescent electric light in vacuo, however, mtist
be acknowledged, tuia voce, to be the best for all domestic
purposas, including the illumination of the laboratory, since
it cannot impair the atmosphere by consuming oxygen and
emitting injurious products. Its invention by Swan and
Edison in 1877 now bids fairly to supersede the employ-
ment of all other illuminants, but the costliness of the
methods in use, and the many technical difficultias yet to be
overcome in its several practical applications and the efficient
education of workmen and others, makes its universal intro-
duction even in London for many years to come extremely
problematiail. For these reasons the subject of lighting
with oil and gas has been treated of in detail, and it is
probable that with the spread of knowledge of the principles
of thorough ventilation and warming in relation to the forms
of apparatus now used, e.(j., the "Defries" lamp, the "Albo-
carbon," " Omega," " Carburetter," and " Siemens's Eegene-
rative Burner," that oil and gas will continue to hold their
places indefinitely as domestic illuminants.

Under the heading of " Hygienic Comparisons between
Gas and Electric Litrht." the following extract Ls at least
noteworthy : — " Some interesting experiments, we learn
from the Builder, have been recently made at the Royal
Theatre, Munich, in order to determine the elevation of
temjieyature and amount of carbonic acid generated imder
illumination by gas and the electric light respectively.
Before the performance commenced the cuitain was raised,
and all the lamps allowed to burn for an hour, at the end
of which time the temperature was observed at intervals of
five minutes simultaneously in the parquet, balcony, and
third gallery. During the performance, when from five
hundred to six hundred persons were in the theatre, the
thermometer was observed every ten minutes. The experi-
ments showed that the electric light greatly diminishes the
increase of temperature. It does not render ventilation
superfluous, but it requires a less active ventilation than

1S82.

' Gas Lighting of the Future," pp. 2, 3. 2nd edit. London :

gas, since it does not, like gas, contribute to the increase
of heat and carbonic acid.*

With all the appliances above mentioned in good working
order, there yet remain many seemingly tri\aal items to be
carefully attended to in shielding the laboratory from the
incursion of dust and dirt, undue moisture, and other things
which have a direct bearing upon the comfort as well as the
health of the student. The prevalent forms of wall decora-
tions and floor coverings employed seem to be especially
adapted to the accumulation of filth, whilst many of them
are active disea.se-producing agents. Undue moisture in the
air is well known to be a fertile cause of failure in delicate
experiments — e.g. the pure culture of germs, and the pre-
servation of implements, books, chemicals, itc, from pre-
mature oxidation, mouldy gi-owths, and general decay.
Moist air thus operates powerfully in physical disintegration,
and in supporting myriads of objectionable organic creatures.
The remedy need not be expensive, although a costly initial
outlay would be s;iving in the long run, in consideration of
its permanent value.

All the woodwork, both exposed and hidden, ought to be
rendered impervious and stable by being suitably painted or
varnished. This applies as much to the flooring as to the
doors, cupboards if any, window-frames, and wall-.skirtings.
Furniture, as a rule, is always so treated, with but few
exceptions, to be noted in the sequel. The paint selected
should be non-poisonous,t fire and damp proof, washable,
perfectly adhesive with a good body, and not liable to scale
off or blister through changes in the weather, itc. The
hai-mless basis known as " Charlton white " may be used in
place of the poisonous white lead, and care should be taken
to procure non-poisonous driers for use with it. All the
good qualities noted, however, are exemplified in "Thompson's
magnetic oxide of iron paint " and " granitic paint," with the
exception of fire-protective property ; the latter can be
additionally secured by the preliminary use, as a priming, of
the " Patent Liquid Fireproof Cyanite." For the ceiling a
washable sanitary distemper, such as the " Silicate Zopissa
Composition," ought to be used.

The walls of the laborator}' should preferably be painted
with some one of the materials alreadj' mentioned, and, as
the selection and blending of colours can lie very tastefully
displayed, wall-papers may be dispensed with. Paper, how-
ever, is much cheaper than paint, and affords a much larger
field for artistic skill ; but health and comfort must not give
place to the false economy of cheap poisonous wall-papers.
Wheie paper is used the wall ought to be previously lined
with an impervious film or coat. " Silicate Zopissa Com-
position " or " Eastwood's Damp-proof Paper " may be used
profitably as stib-linings. The paper itself should be non-
pioisonous, washable, and free from rough embossed or similar
raised work, which is liable to harbour dust. Any kind of
paper can now be procured or rendered washable by the
leading dealers in such things. Arsenical papers shottld be
avoided ; they are not neces.sarily green in colour — indeed
the opposite is now generally found to be the case. It is well
known that arsenic, when taken internally in homceopathic
doses, is an excellent tonic and skin-purifier, and ]Mattieu
Williams has doubted whether arsenical wall-papers may not,
instead of being injurious, prove actually beneficial ! There
is much truth in the question thus raised, and many arsenical
wallpapers may distinctly be shown to be health-giving ;

* "The Illustrated Science Monthly," London, April 1885, vol. iii.,
p. l-'O.

f It has been urged tliat poisonous painis, such as white lead,
the basis of ordinary shades of colours, are harmful only when wet,
but apart from the "fact that this is not strictly true, that circum-
stance alone should be a sufficient condemnation, most of all in the
interests of oiir labourins artists.

18

♦ KNO\A^LEDGE ♦

[NOVEMBEK 1, 1886.

bat as mauy, if not more, are cleirly baneful, so that arsenic
should never be administered in this way ; its use should be
exclusively regulated by the physician and chemist, and
when present in wall-papers they ought to be unhesitatingly
condemned.

# 0 Si 6 I p.

By Richard A. Proctor.

The great earthquakes in Europe and America have
brought out the customary supply of prophets after the
event, and the customary amount of contradiction in regaid
to the future — immediate and remote. It need hardly be
said, however, that no true student of science, no one indeed
having any recognised standing in scientific circles, hivs joined
in the idle chatter by which the Wigginses, Tices, Grimmers,
Saxbys, et id yenus omne, endeavour on these occasions to
acquire notoriety since they cannot achieve fame.

* * *

In America Mr. Wiggins, of Ottawa, a half-educated but
wholly unscientific man, an emphiye in the Meteorological
Office, has been at the pains of announcing a yet more de-
structive earthquake (in latitude thirty degrees north, in
America) than the one by which Charleston suffered so
terribly. This might be regarded as mere folly and not
condemned as wicked, were it not that, as this man cixnnot
but know, the inhabitants of the distuibed district have
suffered from terrible anxieties and fears ever since the
earthquakes took place. INlany deaths must be attributed
to this cause alone, and there have been three (reported)
cases of insanity resulting from fright. For a man at such
a time to make predictions which he knows to be the merest
guesses, simply to gain notoriety, and with the certainty
that he must cause much serious mischief — for the weak and
foolish are always with us — is the meanest wickedness of
which the false-weather prophets and their kind have yet
been guilty.

As I write, news is received from New Orleans that an
aeronaut advertises the sale of seats in the car of his balloon
on the day appointed by Mr. Wiggins for the destruction of
that city.

* * *

I AM asked by some correspondents why some scientific
matters which bear to some degree on theology are admitted
here, and especially the myths of ancient races on which
many of the leading religions of the world have been based,
and yet theological essays are not admitted. It would be
entirely to change the plan of Knowledge to do so.
Theology presents as knowable that which we can only treat
here as unknowable. To decide between the various
dogmas of the theologies of diverse religions would be to
pretend to determine what we regard as absolutely beyond
the range of human knowledge. If I touch here on
matters which many suppose to be associated with religion,
and especially to bear on the question whether such and
such books and teachings are inspired, I do so strictly
because of the scientific bearings of such mattere. I per-
sonally take no interest in the theological questions on
which some of these matters are supposed to bear. If any-
one objects to a scientific statement about facts because he
cannot reconcile it with his own ideas about mattei"s
theological, I may be at the pains to point out that the facts
alone concern us here. And such a reply can, of course, be
misinterpreted into an attack on some theological dogma.
But this is as far from the truth as, for example, the idea

would be that Sir John Heischel in measuring the sun's
heat was, in point of fact, endeavouring to throw doubts on
the tenets of those who worship the sun as a god.

* * *

The small-minded folk who invent out of their own minds
a feeble-minded deity, the ignorant who treat as inspired the
ideas of men as ignorant in past ages as they (more dis-
creditably) are now, attract much less of the attention of
students of science than many fondly imagine.

* * *

I HAVE been long on the look-out for a cricket match in
which an innings of double figures should be i)layed ; but I
have looked in vain (though I know a few such innings are
on record) till the recent match between the Australians and an
All England eleven at Scarborough, when, as everyone knows,
the English eleven not only all reached double figui'es, but all
save one passed the score, while none reached treble figures,
and the extras i-eached double figures as well as the indi-
vidual scores.

* * *

A WRITER in the Times, commenting on my remark two
or three yeare ago that an innings of double figures is thus
unusual, seems to draw an erroneous distinction between a
case such as this and an ordinary problem in probabilities.
He .says : —

Some two or three years ago Mr. Proctor, in IvNOWLEnoE. stated
that no cricket score marking douLjle figures all down the innings
had ever come under his observation. The England r. Australia
match of Friday last supplies the exceptional case. The Yarborough
hand at whist does not, I think, justify the traditional odds of 1,0(10
to 1. This is a matter of pure chance ; but that the double-figure
record should be unique among picked elevens suggests a curious
jiroblem in personal equations. The failure, where single or double
only, is never in extra.s.

But in reality such a problem as this must be regarded as
simply a problem in probabilities. Though the chance that
an individual player will make a double-figure innings in
any given match depends on his skill and the skill of the
opposing eleven, yet it remains a chance — nay, in a sense it
may be said to be more thoroughly a matter of chance tlian
the tossing of head or tail — seeing that not only is it a
chance whether the irresistible ball will come early or late,
but it is a chance whether the player will be in his customary
form, and even whether previous matches, on which an
estimate of his skill has been formed, have really given
satisfactory and sufficient means of testing it.

As a problem in chances one may deal with the case in
the following manner, though, of course, opinions will vary
as to the averages suggested, and in each match, considered
separately, the averages here indicated will be departed
from : —

Suppose that, on the average, in every cricket match
(between elevens), two players out of an eleven may be
expected to reach double figures in 7 cases out of 10, two
othei-s in 5 cases out of 10, three others in 3 cases out of 10,
two others in 2 cases out of 10, and the remaining two once
only in 10 cases. Let us further suppose that the chance of
that one, whoever he may be, who is not out at the end of
the innings, is reduced one half by the possibility that the
failui-e of the player last ov,t may occur before the not out
has reached double figures. Further, let the chance of
double figures in "extras "be set at G in 10. Then the
chance that all the eleven players make double figures,
including the 7iot out, and that the " extnrs " run to double
figures too, is obtained by multiplying together the chances
of the several events, which amount, in all, to 13 — viz. 11
for the several players, 1 for the icot out's extra chance

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

19

of failure, and 1 for the extras,
sen ted by

It is therefore repi*-

10 ■

. 1 .
•Til '

lo ^

1 U.O 0 U.U O 0,0 o o

or the chance is less than 1 in 2,500,000 that the double-
figure result will come off.

Of course in special cases the chance would be much
higher than this, as when a strong eleven with no t;iil is
opposed to a weak one. It would be a very exceptional
eleven, however, for which the above chance would be altei-ed
into, sjiy —

■Tff ■

■ TTj ^ "ni -

■ if ^ M ^

r + ^

in other words, the odds against making all double figures
would be close on 200 to 1 even in the case of an eleven so
strong (as against the opposed eleven) that three of the
number would reach doable figures eight times out of nine,
that two would reach them three times out of five, three in
half the number of games played, and the three others
three times out of eight.

The odds against a " Yarborough " are more than
1,827 to 1, though I do not saj- that would "justify"
laying even 1 ,000 to 1 against an event which may occur
at the first trial. I have known two Yarboroughs (i.e.
whist hands without a card above a nine) in one evening's
l)lay.

* * *

The victory of Beach over Hanlan on the Paramatta,
and over all.' competitors on the Thames, gives pl&asure to
thosi wliD have been long troubled by the crafty ways of
ceitain professional oai-smen. The river has lieen infested
by sporting rascality as thoroughly as the turf ; and those
who have tiiken interest in i-owing and sculling races
beeiuse of their i-egard for a manly exercise, and without
any of those gambling tendencies which degrade sporting
men, have been little aware how often the pulling is
arranged before a stroke has been taken. Beach has, and
doubtless deserves, the i-e|jutation of thorough straightness.
If or when he is beaten — long may it be before he is —
we shall know that he has been beaten by a better oaraman.

i * * *

For my own part, I feel further pleasure in Beach's suc-
cess because all accounts agree in describing his stroke as
precisely that which I have advocated on theoretical grounds
as the stroke which must certainly be most effective for the
modern racing craft — a strong grip at the beginning, and
the best part of the work done in the first half of the
stroke. Although very absurd ideas were mistakenly
advanced about Hanlan's stroke, as involving a jerk at the
end — ideas which, being accepted by other oarsmen in
America, have gone far to ruin their style (which probably
was intended) — there can te no doubt that Hanlan did more
work projx)rtionately in the latter half of his stroke than
the mechanical theory- of propulsion would justify in light-
racing craft, or than any man not so exceptionally built as
Hanlan could have ventured on. Whenever Hanlan was
fairly extended, however (how seldom that happened we all
know), his style was nearly perfect. Beach rows in a style
as nearly perfect as seems possible ; and his method is that
which, since the days when the modern racing-boat was
introduced, all the best oarsmen have followed.

* * *

I QUOTE the following account of Beach's rowing from
the lif/ei-ee ; because, although the remarks on rowing in that
paper have always read to oarsmen as if penned by theatrical
" supes," or at best by sprinters as the nearest approach to
athletes possible with their staff, yet as the Beferee was for-
merlj' obliging enough to comment unfavourably on my own
views in regard to rowing (who have, I suspect, rowed
more miles than any of their staQ' have written lines) it is
pl&ising to be able to quote from that paper what amounts,
practiailly, to a recantation, as the following parallel columns
will show ; —

From " Notes on Rowing" in the
Editor's " Strength anti Hap-
piness," pp. 161 and 162 : —

I assert confidently, as a result
of theory and practice, of ob-
servation and of experiment,
that for the arms not to be at
work in connexion with the body
and legs in the earlier part of
the stroke is as great a fault in
rowing as for them to be at work
alone in any part of the stroke.
. . . [The rower in the modern
light craft should] give up the
cherislied drag and lightning
feather, let the arms be sturdily
called into action, in due sub-
ordination of course to the body,
and in due alliance with the legs
from the very beginning of the
stroke, .so that when the body
comes upright the arms have
nearlj- done their work. Let
not the stroke be hurried, but
a steady (not sluggish) recovery
precede the grip at the begin-
ning.

From the licferec for Septem-
ber 5, p. 1, col. 4 : —

Like Renforth, Beach is very-
quick in catching hold of the
water, and, as did the Novo-
castrian, lays on directly he has
hold. He pulls hard on his
stroke throughout, but does most
of his work, as oldsters used, in
the first half, and not in the
second, as the new school do.
This development upsets all done
in the last few years. The
American school went farther
than Hanlan, whose vicious
wrench at the end of each stroke
was one of its chief features.
Beach has dropped into the old
style, with most of the work done
with the sculls at right angles
to the boat's line, but a start
made in earnest directly they
are dropped in. This does not
necessitate scamping the re-
mainder, but as carried out is
the way that the heroes of the
previous generation performed.

* * *

Besides the method of arranging 19 trees in 9 rows,
5 in each, de.scribed under the head " Our Puzzles," I have
received yet another, fulfilling, oddly enough, the condition
I mention as only fulfilled by original solution. 1 will give
this nest month, with the solution of the more difficult
problem to ari'ange 19 trees in ten rows 5 in each.

* * *

Some readers appear quite to have mistaken several
references to my esteemed friend and contributor Mr. Grant
Allen in our last. Surely it ought not to need explanation that
if I mention him as doing (with marvellous skill and aptitude)
what the Saturday Review is constantly attacking me for
doing, no reproiich can conceivably be intended. The
remark as to incorrectness in West Indian speech brings
Mr. Allen into the same relation with Thackeray and
Anthony Trollope, to imagine which to te a slur were
assuredly absurd.

^AtbifiBSf.

Essays in the Study of Folk-Songs. Bv the Countess
EvELVN Martisengo-Cesaresco. (Geo. Redway.) — The
essays which compose this delightful book well deserve
collection in permanent form, and the publisher has done
his share in making that form attractive. Their subjects
carry us back to the morning of the world, when the inspira-
tion of the singer came through direct contitct with nature,
and we are among the company of those whose verse, spon-
taneous and sincere, is to the poetry of later days as the
wildflowers of valleys and meadows to the cultivated beds
of parks and hothouses. Their themes are not of Lntriguea

20

♦ KNOAATLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1886.

and low ambitions of an artificial state, but of childhood and
love, and the death that blights both ; of the fate of men
swayed by the gods ; of the intercommunion of all living
things ; of nature in storm and calm, seed-time and harvest
— all imbedding many an old-world superstition, worn-out
custom, or still active belief. Whilst the authoress has pre-
.sented her matter with literary skill, she has not permitted
this to obscure the historic spirit in which her many felicitous
illustrations are interpreted. They are drawn from varied
sources— from the far north to the islands of the Pacific —
but the larger number are chosen from the rich stores of
districts familiar to her, more especially Southern Europe,
where the shepherds and the viueyard-dressei'S have not cast
aside the reed of Pan. Very touching are the specimens of
lullabies and dirges, very pretty the love-songs and popular
lyiics of Venice and Sicily and Calabria, but, as combining
philosophic treatment with recognition of deep human in-
terest, we commend the chajjter on the Idea of Fate in
Southern traditions. Altogether a book alike for the
specialist in folk-lore and for the general reader.

Hester's Venture. By the Author of " The Atelier du
Lys," &c. (Longmans.) — It would be unreasonable to
expect that the high level reached in " Mademoiselle Mori "
should be maintained in every sub.sequent book from the
skilful hand that gave us that powerful story ; Ijut if the
materials of the present tale are more commonplace, the in-
vestment of them with an interest that increases as the
story advances only witnesses the more to the author's
mastery and skill. If there is little to excite, there is
enough to attract, in the characters whose friction in the
mild intercourse of a Cornish watering-place gives movement
to the story. What set of circumstances led to Hester's
venture, what was its nature, its strange surroundings and
results, must be left to the reader to find out. Both the
heroine and her dear old grandmother, the one in her quiet
self-dependence, and the other stilled by the patience which
is not always the fruit of life's discipline, are attractive
enough to keep our sympathies in their fortunes awake,
while the contrast presented by the other characters, all life-
like in portraiture, from the successful CJerman who vexes
the jealous soul of the .squire with his schemes for improving
the old town, to the mild villain of the story, and the
beautiful actre.ss in her Bohemian home in London, complete
the lights and shades of a novel which is far above the
average.

Still higher amongst the author's works rank the Atelier
du Lys and In the Olden Time, which Messrs. Longmans
have issued in half a crown editions, printed in clear type
and stylishly bound. The vivid incidents of the one are set
in a graphic description of the state of France under the
Revolution of '93, while in the other the revolt of the
frightfully oppressed peasantiy of Germany in the early
part of the sixteenth century is the framewoi'k of the
pathetic story of the concealed Rosilde and the leper Meister-
singer.

The Dawn of the Nineteenth Century in England. By
John Ashton. Popular Edition. (T. Fisher Fnwin.) —
If Mr. Ashton cannot write history, he can skilfully sift
and arrange its materials, and leave on the mind of any
intelligent reader a clear impression of the period from
which they are gathered. He has in the present work un-
earthed from newspapers and other fugitive literature of the
early years of this century a mass of curious information
concerning the social condition of the people, the rigour of
the laws under which they lived, and the burden of taxation
imder which they were crushed. If there be any laudator
temporis acti among the readers of Knowledge, he may find
many a fond delusion dispelled by the facts Mr. Ashton has

focussed together, and be thankful that his lot was not cast in
the years when the quartern loaf stood at 2s. 7'/., the income-
tax at '2s. in the pound, and coals at 48*. per ton ; when the
New River turned on its water supply three times weekly ;
when the streets were paved with kidney-stones and lit with
oil lamps, and locomotion had made no advance since the
day when Joseph was carried into Egypt ; when a debtor
might languish for life in prison, and a man be hanged for
stealing a counterpane or a pair of stockings. The daily life
of the streets, the diversions of the people in cockpits and
gambling-hells, the fashions of the town with its Bond
Street mashers and padded old roues — all defile before us in
the sketches which make up this entertaining and insti'uctive
book.

Old Cookery Books and Ancient Cuisine. By W. Caeew
Hazlitt. (Elliot Stock.) — There is a certain relation
between this book and the foregoing, but, although of smaller
compass, it covers a wider range in time. Mr. Hazlitt
might have cited the relics of hunting feasts in the Reindeer
Period of the Ancient Stone Age, in evidence of the
high antiquity of cookery ; but he contents himself in
his introductory chapter with references to the culinary
art in Scripture and the classic writers. We may gather
from his pages a clear account of the food of the higher and
lower orders of the e;irly English, in whose menu dishes
strange and repellent to our palates appear. We have,
however, happil}' overcome that prejudice against the hare
to which Cfesar refers, and the explanation of which it does
not occur to Mr. Hazlitt to assign to a totemic origin. The
recipes from old cookery books, which fill several chapters,
show that our ancestors were adepts in the art of blending
good things together, although Mr. Hazlitt, in admitting
how we had to summon foreigners to teach us the projjer
treatment of our ample materials, indorses the grave charge
of the French satirist — that we have many religions but
only one sauce I In referring to the " Liber cure Cocorum," he
is probably not aware that this quaint metrical cookery-book
has been edited by the Rev. Dr. Morris for the Philological
Society, and, when speaking of the recipe for " goose in a
hog-pot " as leaving one in doubt as to its adaptability to
the modern palate, has he not mistaken " hotch-pot " for
" hog-pot " 1 But whether he has or has not done this, he
has to be thanked for a book commendable both to the
antiquary and the housewife.

Longman's School Geography. By G. G. Chisholai,
M.A., B.Sc. (Longmans.) — Geogi-aphy, to the shame of
this empire that holds so much of the world in fee, is about
the worst-taught subject in our schools, and the result is
manifest in the crass ignorance of nine-tenths of educated (?)
people as to the whereabouts and features of places the
names of which are familiar enough. We, therefore, give
special welcome to the present book, which has for its model
the masterly text-books on Erdkunde in use in Germany,
where, determining what is possible and what is impossible
in school years, the overloading of the mind with minute
detail is wisely subordinated to thoroughness in laying the
groundwork. Hence, as Mr. Chisholm says, " the present
work will perhaps appear more remarkable for what it
omits than what it contains," but he has at least retained
what it is most important to know. The information, both
in the physical and political sections, is posted up to date,
and there are some woodcuts good enough of their kind, but
in the room of which we should have preferred a series of
block maps. The book is certainly one which should forth-
with supersede the majority of manuals in current use.

After London, or Wild England. By Richard Jefferies-
(Cassell & Co.) — The undercurrent of melancholy which
runs through much of Mr. Jefferies's writings is in full swing

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

21

in this weird picture of an England which has relapsed into
barbarism, and in which only the scantiest relics of civilisa-
tion have survived as curiosities, not even an arch of London
Bridge being left on which jracaulaj's New Zealander might
sit to sketch the site of the vanished city. For in Mr.
Jefferies's vision London is covered by marshy oo/.e, from
whose putrid mass is exhaled mepliitic vapours fatal to the
man who nears its borders, and to the bird that dies across
it, and hanging as a low cloud over the rottenness of a
thousand years and of many hundred millions of human
beings festering under the stagnant waters charged with
sewage, and like foul matter. What natural causes opeiuted
to bring about this catastrophe are described in the first
part, and a piece of very powerful writing it is. The second
part introduces us somewhat abruptly to the domestic life of
the Aquilas, one of the few surviving families of nobles
dragging nn an Ishmael-like existence, and the prey of a
rapacious tyranny which has usurped sway over " Wild
England." As the foi tunes of Felix Aquila in his perilous
adventures for love's dear sake await theu- sequel, Mr.
Jefferies's readers may in the meantime exercise their
ingenuity in discovering whether anj' or what subtle
meaning underlies his fantastic story.

Pendennis. Barnj Li/ndon. The Newcom.es. (Smith,
Elder, & Co.) — This convenient and pi-etty reprint of the
great master has beguiled us into renewed reading of works
that cannot pall, and that, while never obtruding their
moral, tend to lift us out of life s littlenesses into a larger,
whol&somer sphere. Whether the nioie expensive editions
be possessed or not, this pocket edition should have a corner
of its own.

A New Theory nf Astrnnom;/. (Dublin: P. Dixon Hardy
&, Sous. London : Piper, Stephenson, & Co. 1857.) — We
fail to find the slightest justification for the insult offered to
a pcientific periodical in sending to it for notice such un-
mitigated trash as this twenty-nine years after the date
of its publication.

Papers in Inorganic ChemiMn/, with Numerical Answers.
By Geo. E. R. Ellis, F.C.S. (London : Ptivingtons. 1886.)
Yet another aid to thegrievou.sly over-examined student I It
is only fair, however, to say that any one who can intelligently
answer the progressive series of questions contained in Jlr.
Ellis's volume (as carefully contradistinguished from answer-
ing them by rote) must have previously acquired a sound
knowledge of elementary chemistry.

Philips' Planisphere, showing the principal Stars visible
for every Hour in the Year. (London : Geo. Philip it
Son.) — This extremely handy little planisphere is excellently
adapted to its purpose, which is to show at a glance the
visible heavens at any given hour of the day or night in and
about the latitude of London ; or, in fact, for practical pur-
poses, in any part of England. The disc on wliieh the con-
stellations are delineated rotate.s in a leather frame, which is
perforated with the elliptical projection of the horizon, the
the stai-s of course being visible through this 0{X)ning. It is
the very thing to lie on the astronomer's library table.

Reading- Boohs for Home awl School: Suggestive Lessons
in Practical Lije. Second and Third Series. (Smith,
Elder, ife Co.) — 'These books, both in matter and style, deserve
unqualified praise. They are not made up of clippings after
the fashion of their kind, but of clear and informing
chapters which are the fruit of wide reading and of a life-
time's pi-actical experience in teaching. All the woodcuts
are good, and some of them superlatively delicate.

The Junior Students' Algehra. By Alex. Wilson-, M.A.
(London : Crosby Lockwood ifc Co.) — Mr. Wilson has
obviously taken immense pains to render the fundamental
principles of algebra intelligible to the beginner. His

book only extends to simple equations ; but his explanations
of the various little difficulties which beset the junior student
leave nothing to be desired.

The Arithmdical Class P.ooh. Part I. By Rev. T.
MiTCliESON, B.A. (London : Bemrose and Sons. 1880.) —
Moffatl's Civil Service Examples in Arithmetic. By J.
Hall and E. J. Heschie. (London : Moffatt k Paige. —
Uxercises on Metisnration. By T. W. K. Start. (Loudon :
Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington. 1886.) —
Analysis Tables for Chemical Strulents. By R. L. Taylor,
F.C.S. (London : Sampson IjOW, Mai-ston, Searle, it Riving-
ton. 1886.) — German of To-day. By Dr. N. Heixe>[ann,
F.R.G.S. (London : Cassell k Co. \%%^^.)~Shakspeare's
Plays. Text and Literary Introduction in English and
German. "King Lear"; "Henry VIII." (London:
Whittaker & Co.)— Ze Verre d'Eav. Par E. Scribe. With
an Introduction and Notes by A. BarrIlRE. (London :
Whittaker it Co.) Yet another pile of school-books, all
more or less adapted to their purpo.se. Among those pos-
sessing some particular recommendation we may perhaps
select Mr. iVIitcheson's "Arithmetic" and Jlr. Taylor's
" Anal} sis Tables " as a little above the average. The rest
of the works named above call for no special notice.

We have received Vol. VII. of the Dictionary of National
Biography (reserved for fuller notice). — Agnostic First Prin-
ciples, by Ignotus (Albert Simmons) (SVatts it Co.), an
accurate and much-needed summ.ary of Mr. Herbert
Spencer's famous work ; the tone of Dr. Bithell's intro-
duction is admirable. — Outlines of English History (Moffatt
it Paige), a useful whip to jaded memories, although pri-
marily intended to minister to the mind-killing system
of " cram." — The second volume of British Fungi, by Rev.
John Stevenson (Blackwood it Sons), completing the work. —
]\Ir. Cole's Studies in Microscopical Science, August and
September (Birmingham : Hammond it Co.), to which every
microscopist should subscribe ; the plates alone are worth the
money. — Ross's Notes on Fairs, a gossipy, informing bro-
chure on those primitive mixtures of business and frolic. —
British Furuji, Lichens, and Mosses, by E. M. Holjies and
Peter Gray (Swan Sonnenschein it Co.), the latest addi-
tion to the useful and marvellously cheap " Young Col-
lector " series. — Mr. Harris Teall's British Petrography,
Parts v., VI., and VIL (Birmingham : Watson it Douglas),
enriched with admirable chromo-lithos of olivine-dolerite
and felspar from Derbj'shire, the Hel)rides, and Scotland. —
The Littk Asker ; or, Learning to Think, by J. J. Wright
(Swan Sonnenschein «t Co.), which utilises the more
attractive and striking facts of science for moral h ssons.
Commendably free from unprovable dogmas. — The Anti-
quary (Redway), giving papers of interest on the
orientation of churches in Hampshire, on the ancient
boat found at Brigg, with illustrations of the relic,
and continuing the late Mr. Cornelius Walford's useful
"History of Gilds." — Martin's Ambulance Work (Bailliere,
Tindall, it Cox), well worth its shilling for excellent sum-
mary of human anatomy and advice as to treatment of
accidents. — Professor Guthrie's wise and scathing Cantor
Lectures on Science I'eaching. — A batch of Cassell it Co.'s
useful serial issues : European Butterjiies ami Moths ;
Countries of the World ; Our Own Coimtry ; Library if
English Literature; Book of Health. — From America we
have the Proceediwjs of the Academy of Natural Sciences,
Philadelphia; the American Naturalist; and the Smith-
sonian Report, 1884, with its valuable resume of scientific
work and discover}', notable among which are the interesting
finds of the oldest known fossil-fish in the lower Silurian
beds of Pennsylvania, and of the oldest arachnids repre-
sented bv fossil-scorpions in the Upper Silurian of Gothland
and Lanarkshire.

22

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1886.

(Bnv WlWt Columiu

By "Five of Clubs."

JIATHEWS ON WHIST.

T seems desirable, when so much attention is being
directed to conventional devices at whist, to turn to
the worli of one wlio was a master of whist strategy,
and thoroughly well acquainted with all those points
of play which constituted the science of whist in his
day. That whist has advanced since Mathews's time
may doubtless be true. It will be seen, as we proceed
with his work, that in several points modern whist
differs strategically from the whist of the beginning
of this century. But the change has been much less than those
suppose who imagine that modern whist owes its scientific
superiority to the system of conventional signals. I might even say
that the advance has been much less than it would have been had
not whist strategy been hampered by a system of cumlirous con-
ventions. I believe many readers of the series of papers in which
I am about to present the whist of Mathews will be surprised to find
how slight the advance has really been since his time, so far as
whist strategy is concerned.

But Mathews's book is unfortunately ill-arranged and ill-written.
There is, indeed, no arrangement whatever. If he had written
evening after evening on separate scraps of paper such ideas as the
progress of successive games suggest, and had afterwards piled
these scraps in a box and taken them out at random to make his
book, he could liardly have produced a more heterogeneous con-
glomeration of suggestions. Then some of tlie suggestions are so
ill-worded that they will bear two or three interpretations, and onlj'
the whist player who, having gone through the work, has learned to
appreciate the vigour of Mathews's strategy can fell precisely what
he meant to say. In other cases, however, Mathews has succeedetl
in laying down in a few lines the whole philosophy of a matter
about which some recent authors have written chapters, verbosely
presenting views inconsistent with sound whist strategy. This is
especially the case with the discard. In what follows I have
thoroughly rearranged Mathews's matter ; and where necessary I
have altered his wording : where I follow him inwrted commas are
used ; square brackets where matter is interpolated, unless the
addition is very slight : —

Introduction.

"Whist is a game of calculation, observation, and position."

" Calculation teaches you to plan your game [at the outset] and
lead originally to advantage. Before a card is played you suppose
the dealer to have an honour and three other trumps; the others
each an honour and two other trumps. The least reflection will
show that as it is two to one that your partner has not a named
card " [that is any particular card not in your hand] " to lead on
the supposition that he has it, is to play against calculation.
Whereas, tlie odds being in favour of his having one of two named
cards, j'ou are justified in playiug accordingly. Calculation is also
of use on other occasions, which the maxims will elucidate. But
after a few leads have taken place, calculation is nearly superseded
by observation. Where the sets are really good players, they are as
well acquainted, before half the cards are played out, with the
material cards remainiog in each other's hands, as if they had
seen them. Where two regular players are matched against two
irregular ones, it is nearly the same advantage as if they were
permitted to see each other's cards, while the latter were denied
the same privilege.

" It is an axiom that the nearer your play approaches to that of
dummy " [that is, the nearer your play is to what it would be if
your cards were exposed and you played what your partner asked
for] " the better."

" Calculation and observation may be called the foundation of the
game, and are so nearly mechanical, that any one possessed of a
tolerable memory may attain them. The science of position or the
art of using calculation and observation with advantage is more
difficult. Without it it is evident they are of no use. Attentive
study and practice will in some degree ensure success ; but genius
must be added before the whole finesse of the game can be acquired.
However —

Est quiddam prodire tenus, si non datur ultra.

General Principles.
" Study all maxims with the cards placed before you in the situa-
tions mentioned. Abstract directions puzzle much oftener than they
assist the beginner. General maxims presuppose the game and
hand to be commencing. Material changes [during the progress of
the game] frequently require that a different mode of play should

be adopted. Do not attempt to practise [strategic methods] until j'ou
have acquired a competent knowledge of the theory [that is, of the
theoretical considerations on which fhey are based]. Avoid as much
as possible sitting down with bad players, for it is more difficult to
eradicate erroneous than to acquire just ideas. Do not accustom
yourself to judge bj' consequences. Bad play sometimes succeeds
where good play would not. When you see an acknowledged judge of
the game play in a manner you do not comprehend, get him to explain
his reasons, and while [tlie case is] fresh en your memory, place the
same cards before }ou. When you can comprehend the case, you
will be able to adajit it to similar situations."

" Do not at first puzzle yourself with many calculations. Those
hereafter mentioned will be sufficient even for a proficient."

" Observe silently and attentively the different systems of those
with whom you commonly play. Few players have not their
favourite system, the knowledge of which will give you a constant
advantage. One leads by preference from an ace, another never but
through necessity. [This will often direct you in putting on king
second,] The players of the old school never lead from a single
card witliout six trumps; many do so from weakness [in trumps].
Some have a trick of throwing down high cards to the adversary's
lead, and then, by way of deception, affect to consider, though they
have no alternative. [This, however, is not so much system as acted
falsehood.] Observation will enable you to counteract this, and
turn it to your own profit. ['Oh, 'tis the sport to see the engineer
hoist with his own petard 1 ']

" At the commencement of a game, if 3'ou have a good hand, or
if 3-our adversaries are considerably advanced in the score, play a
bjld game ; otherwise, a more cautious one. The first object should
be to save the game if it appears in probable danger; the next to
win it, it you have a reasonable hope of success, by any mode of
play, even though hazardous. If neither of these is in question
you should play to the score."

The more plainly you demonstrate your hand to your partner the
better. Be particularly cautious not to deceive him in his or your
own leads, or when he is likely to have the lead. When it is evident
the winning cards are between you and your adversaries play an
obscure game, but as clear a one as possible, if your partner has a
good hand. A concealed game may now and then succeed in the
suits of your adversaries ; but this should not be attempted before
you have attained considerable proficiency ; and then but seldom, as
its frequency would destroy the effect.

Let the beginner rest assured that without comprehending the
leads, modes of playing sequences [and other points of regular
play] with an attentive observation of the table, it is as impossible to
make any progress in the science of whist as to learn to spell before
he knows the alphabet. He must accustom himself to reason by
analogy, as the only way of learning to vary his play according to
circumstances : he will find that the best play in some is the worst
in other situations of the game.

Avoid equally undue daring and extreme caution. One may see
" even good players hazard the game merely to gain the applause of
ignorant bystanders, by making as much out of the cards as they
are capable of; but this pitiful ambition cannot be too luuch
guarded against. On the other hand, some players will never part
with a certain trick, though for the probability of making several ;
they ai-e like fencers who pany well the attack [but are good only
in defence]. No player of this kind can excel, though he may
reach mediocrity."

" Lastly, I must repeat my advice to proficients, to vary their
play according to the set they are engaged with. Recollect that it
would be of no advantage to speak French like Voltaire, if you
lived with people who were ignorant of the language."

Moihrn Wliisf, together trith the Lines of "Whist. By Clement
Davies,M.A. (London: Sampson Low, Marston, & Co. 1886.)— This
little treatise might better be called " The Laws of Whist, together
with Modern Whist," for it is more than half taken up with the laws
(without note or comment). Turning to the very limited amount of
matter relating to modern whist, about 7,000 words (or four jiages
of whist matter in Knowledge), for which Mr. Davies has the
conscience to ask four shillings, we find a good deal of this also to be
very far from original. Of the preliminary advice sections 1, 2, and
3 are simply naught — and there are only three sections. The
matter on playing to the .score is as old as short whist itself, and
much of it as old as Hoyle. Mr. Davies has here missed, by the
way, an o]iporlunity of saying something original ; for, oddly
enough, while Cavendish, Pole, Drayson, Clay, Ctclebs, Major A., and
most other writers have called attention to the adrisability of refrain-
ing leading trumps when playing for the odd trick, it has not been
properly pointed out that the very reason which suggests caution in
leading trumps under such circumstances points to an immediate
trump lead in many cases under those selfsame circumstances. I

November 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

23

and my partner want, let us say, the odd trick to make the game,
therefore the enemy want it also to save the game (or riee (V?'S«).
We are cautious as to leading trumps first round, lest we should fail
to bring in our length and lose the chance of making a trick or two
by ruffing. But after a round or two we find that by leading trumps
we can deprive the eiieiiiij of the cliance of making a trick or two by
rutEng. Therefore we must lead trumps to foil them in regard to
the odd trick, which is the same as saying that in such a case a
trump lead is indicated as tlie best way to secure the odd trick.
Mr. Davies tries to teach all about the lead in six short pages. This
may be done by anyone who possesses some faculty for systematising,
and can write succinctly and clearly. How systematic Mr. Davies
is and how clear his style may he inferred from a single example.
" You should lead," he says, " with Queen, Knave, and one small one,
or four small ones, or the ten — the Queen, for the chance of hem-
ming in the King." Of course, a whist-player knows what this
means, but certainly the learner, for whom Mr. Davies has been
kindly repeating the A B C of the game, will not make mucli of the
rule or of the reason assigned for it ; nor will the whist-player agree
with Mr. Davies on either point. The lead of Queen from Queen,
Knave, ten [and another, or others, usually] is simply adopted in
order to establish the suit and make the best use of its strength.
The lead of Queen from Queen, Knave, four small ones, is not sound
whist ; the fourth best card is now the accepted lead, except among
those who object to the play of any but the lowest card in such
cases. The lead of Queen from Queen, Knave, and a small one may
serve to hem the King, as, indeed, may the other two leads of the
Queen, but the object is to support jiartner, if he shall turn out to
have strength in this short suit of fours, without giving up all com-
mand over it if it turns out to be the enemy's ; for if King or Ace
captures your Queen, you remain with second best guarded. In
dealing with play second hand Mr. Davies ignores all recent
inquiries into the advisability of covering an honour when weak in the
suit. Passing on to play third hand, lead from weakness, discarding
ruffing, &c., we find nothing new in Mr. Davies' teachings ; but
under the head " Call for Trumps " we find something very original
indeed — " You may call for trumps by leading an Ace, then the
King, and then a small one, or by winning the Ace and leading the
King." We have heard of such nonsensical dodges at subm-ban
clubs ; and at Mr. Davies' Union Club, Birmingham, they may be
excused. Indeed, by inviting Mr. Davies to publish his remarkable
contribution to whist literature, the club convey the idea that such
nonsense suits them. But this is emphatically not whist. We need
quote only one more sample of Jlr. Davies' style. He says, "When
strong in trumps endeavour to establish your own long suit ; when
weak, your partner's." Suppose you have no good suit in the former
case, and that he has none in the latter, how then ? The fact is,
Mr. Davies has not digested such whist experience (chielly borrowed)
as he has obtained. With such a style as his he would do well, even
where he understands a subject, to leave literature alone.

<B\\x Cf)f66 Column.

By " Mephisto."

DRAWN GAMES.

XLY a draw 1 This is a customary expression when
honours have been equally divided between two
players. The emphasis is put on the word only,
whilst " draw " is usually pronounced with a melan-
choly attempt to convey an idea of the uneventful
VAv*» # ^Ai course of the game. It must not be supposed,
iHnl'Jr4MM however, that this expression of disappointment is

always justified ; for to draw a game requires often

a great ik-al of exactitude, a thorough knowledge of end-games,
and a considerable display of ingenuity and skill. A drawn game
is also frequently brought about by the sound defence of the second
player in the opening of the game. In tournaments, where draws
count half, many first prizes have been lost through not being
satisfied with an humble draw, and even in matches, where such
games do not count, draws, especially when a player is losing,
exercise a certain moral influence and slightly revive the drooping
spirits. Steinitz is reported to have said, " When I drew my game at
St. Louis, I found that all was not lost yet, and my hopes were
revived ; " at that time his score was 1 to 4.

There are different categories of drawn games. First we have
the simple endings of King against King and Pawn, or King and
Pawns against King and Pawns, which depend upon niceties
of play by which the opposition is always maintained. Bishop

against Rook is drawn, with the exception of certain unfavour-
able positions. The easiest way to draw is to keep the King
near the corner of the same colour as the B, when the K is on
Kt sq tlie B will always be able to interpose on Bsq or Kt2.
Knight against Rook is far more difficult to play. In order to draw
the Kt must not separate itself from his K, as otherwise the hostile
R will cut it off with the help of the K. No endings have Ciiused
more disappointments than King, Rook, and B or Kt against King
and Rook : these ought to be drawn, but must be played with the
utmost care, especially R against R and B. The end-games of Q
against R and P are most useful ; if, fur instance. Black K on QR2,
P on Q113 and R on QKtl against White, K on QIU and Q on any
square, say K sq. Black will draw ; but if the RP is either on R2 or
Rl, Black would lose. The KtP and R and the BP and R would always
draw against a Queen on any square provided the K is cut ofl", and
that there sliould be no necessity for the R to place himself behind
his P. The P will also draw on Q2 and K2, care being taken to
keep the R on K3 or P>3 accordingly, and the K behind the P ; but
if the P is either on Q3, Q4, or K3, K-4, White would win by being
able to attack the K from behind, and thus force him away from
his P. Draws of this kind are too numerous to be mentioned here.
A very frequent draw occurs through Bishops being of opposite
colour.-', when, in a great many cases, a Pawn more makes no
difference.

Next we have draws by perpetual checks. Supposing K on
KKt sq, and P's on B2, Kt2, and R3, and other pieces, then check,
by the IJlack Q on QB8 and KB.5, is a draw which occuis too often
where it could be avoided. In other positions a considerable
amount of ingenuity will be exercised to obtain a draw by sacri-
ficing a piece in order to gain a perpetual check. AU this should be
well known in order either to guard oneself against such draws, or
to obtain them as a release from a hopeless game, as in the follow-
ing example : —

WHrni.

White will draw by I. R to R3 (ch), K x R. 2. Q to Kt3 (ch), Kt x Q.
3. Kt to B4 (ch), K to R5. 4. Kt to Kt6 (ch) and draws by per-
petual check.

Another very interesting draw is obtained by getting into a
stalemate position. I cannot think of anything so gratifying to a
player, and so trjing to the temper of an opponent, than a stale-
mate. Some players look upon such a performance with a particular
satisfaction, and maliciously enjoy the opponent's disappointment.
In the following stalemate example we have also the perpetual
check idea : —

WaiTB.

24

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE ♦

[November 1, 1886.

Stalemate follows on 1. R to BS (ch), K to B.-J. 2. E to E8 (ch),
K X K. 3. Q to B8 (cb), K to E2. 3. Q to Bo (ch). Q x Q. Stale-
mate. I£ Black could not take the Q, then White has the perpetual
check position referred to above.

It makes a great difference very often how and when you advance
a r to the Sth. Sometimes you must delay the advance in order to
avoid a draw, as in the following position : White K on QR3 and
1' on QKt7. Black K on QE8. If White now advances his 1' at
once to the Sth the game will be drawn, for if the F becomes
Q or E, Black is stalemate. White will therefore first have to move
his K. In other instances you may make a Book by advancing, but
vou must not Queen it, as in the following position : White, K on
QKti and P on QKt7 ; Black K on QR3. If P to Kt8 (Book)
White wins, but if P to KtS (Queen) it is slalumate.

Now all these esamj^les may be much complicated by a greater
surrounding of pieces ; the lesson, however, should not be forgotten, as
the principle equally applies. Not only is it necessary to exercise
care sometimes in advancing a P to the Stli to prevent the stale-
mate, but it is often essential not to make a Queen or Eook, in order
also to procure a stalemate, as may be seen from the foUowing
example : —

Black.

""■ ' ' '■ ■ ^r^.

White will draw^ by 1. P to 1;8 (Bishop) (ch) K to K3. 2. P to
Kt7 (ch), R to BG. 3. E x R (ch), E x E, stalemate. White could
not do this by making a Queen on the first move.

From these few remarks it will be seen that even only to draw a
game often requires skill :md ingenuity. The drawing "part of the
game is by no means an uninteresting feature of the game. One
thing is certain, that players possessing great strength and tenacity,
or others possessing less strength but more tenacity, will always
draw a good many games. This is more creditable "to them than
the performance of the player who possesses great brilliance and
enterprise, minus judgment or tenacity, who will mostly succeed
in losing the same games which the other players wovdd draw.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR NOVEMBER.

By F.E.A.S.

rallK Sun may still be watched on every clear day
(there are not many) for the spots and faculai
which, in greatly diminished size and number,
occasiou.ally appear upon his surface. The aspect
of the night sky is shown in map xi. of " The
Stars in their Seasons." Minima of Algol (" The
Stars in their Seasons," map xii.) will happen
forty-live minutes after midnight on the 13tb ;
on the 16th, at 'Jh. Sim. f.JU. ; and on the Itlth,
, in addition to other dates, when their observation
will be ditficult or impossible. The student should watch for the
meteorites I'adiating from Leo, at and after midnight on the 13th, and
for the "Andromeds " all night long on the 27th. Mercury is an
evening star throughout the month— in fact, he attmns his greatest
elongation east of the sun (22° 2'J') on the 13th, but his south
declination is so great that he is practically invisible. Venus is a
morning star, but is so rapidly approaching the sun, and her
diameter is so small, that she is, in one sense, not much better
placed for the observer than Mercury is. JIars is practicaUy in-
visible, as are, during the working horns of the night, Jupiter and
ITranus too ; but Saturn rises before 9 p.m. at the beginning of
November, and between six and seven at the end of it. He is

at eh. 23m. I'.M.,

situated some 7° to the south of Pollux (•' The Stars in their
Seasons," map ii.). Neptune comes into opposition to the sun on
the 18th, so is capitally placed for the observer. He is about 6°
south of the Pleiades, in a perfectly bkmk part of the sky. The
Moon enters her first quarter at oh. .5i'm. P.M. on the 3rd, and is
full on the evening of the 11th at 7b. G'om. She enters her last
quarter at lOh. lOSm. at night on the 18th, and is new at 7h. IS'Sm.
P.M. on the 2.5th. Of a considerable number of occultations of
fixed stars by the moon this month, seven only will occur at hours
suitable for observation by the ordinary amateur. They are as
follows. On the 3rd, B.A.O. 7263, a star of the 6th magnitude, will
disappear at the moon's dark limb at 3h. IGm. P.M. at an angle of
56° from her vertex. It will reappear at her bright Umb at Ih. 32m.
P.M. at a vertical angle of 288°. On the 7th, i Ceti, a 6th magni-
tude star, will disappear at the dark limb at 5h. 4om. P.M. at an
angle from the moon's vertex of 32°, reappearing at the bright
limb at 6h. 32m. P.M. at an angle of 321° from her vertex.
Later, 5 Ceti, another 6th magnitude star, n-ill disappear at
the dark limb at six o'clock at a vertical angle of 48°, and will
reappear- at the bright Umb at 7h. Im. P.M. at an angle of 311°
from the vertex of the moon. Later still, at 6h. 23m. P.M., B.A.C. 5,
also of the Gth magnitude, will disappear at the moon's dark limb at
an angle of 89° from her vertex, reappearing at her bright limb at
7h. 42m. P.M., at a vertical angle of 281°. On the 'Jth, v Pi-.cium, of
the 45th magnitude, will disappear at 6h. 4m. P.M. at the dark limb, at
an angle of 60^ from the lunar vertex. It will reappear at 7h. 9m.
P.M. at the bright limb, at an angle from her vertex of 277°. On
the 12th, 48 Tauri, a 6th magnitude star, wiU disappear at the
bright limb of the moon at 7h. 18m. P.M., at a vertical angle of 61°;
reappearing at 8h. 18m. at the dark limb, at an angle of 251° from
her vertex. Finally, on the same night (12th), 7 Tauri, a star of
the 4 th magnitude, will disappear at the moon's bright limb at
9h. 17m. P.M., at an angle of 55° from her vertex; to reappear at
her dark limb at lOh. 2om. P.M., at a vertical angle of 271°. When
our notes begin, the Moon is in Sagittarius ("The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxi.), through which she is travelling, until 6 P.M. on the 2nd,
when she enters Capricoruus. It takes her until 4 P.M. on the 3rd
to cross the constellation last named, and then she passes into
Aquarius. She does not leave Aquarius until midnight on the 6th,
at which hour she crosses the boundary into Pisces (" The Seasons
Pictured,"' plate sxii.). She is travelling through this great straggling
constellation until 4 A.M. on the 10th, when she arrives at the north-
eastern corner of Cetus. She has passed over this by 6 o'clock the
same evening and entered Aries. She remains in Aries until
9h. 30m. P.M. on the 11th, and then passes over the boundary into
Taurus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). Travelling through
Taurus, she arrives at 2h. 30m. P.M. on the 14th at the narrow
northern strip of Orion. Bj' 2h. 30m. the next morning she has
traversed this and emerged in Gemini ("The Seasons Pictured," plate
sxiv.). She remains in Gemini until 6h. 30m. P.M. on the 16th,
when she enters Cancer. She quits Cancer for Leo at 6h. 30m. A.M.
on the ISth, and Loo in turn for Virgo at 7 P.M. on the 20th ("The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.). Her journey across Virgo is not
finished until 6 P.M. on the 23rd, when she enters Libra (" The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxvi.). At Ih. 30m. P.M., on the 25th, she
reaches the narrow northern pointed part of Scorpio. Over this
she has passed by lOh. 30m. the same night and entered C)phiuchus.
This she quits for Sagittarius at 4 P.M. on the 27th. At 2 A.M. on
the 30th she entere Capricornus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate
xxi.). She is stiU in Capricornus at midnight.

Contents of No. 12,

PAGE

The 'Unkno\\*able. By .Richard A.
Proctor 345

Tile Story of Creation : a Plain
Account of Evolutiou. By
Edward rioUd 347

Pleasant Hours with tbe Micro-
scope. By Henry J. Slacit 340

lutiian Mytli3 aljout Niglit. By
" .SU?lla 'Ocoidcns " 351

Notes on Americanisms. By
llicliard A. Proctor 352

'* Saturday Keview " Blunders .... 354

Are Suu-tpots Hollows y 356

Some Puzzles

The Sixty-four Sixty-five Puzzle . .

Minute Writing

Photograi>h of Saturn

Fifteen School-pirls

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor . .

Reviews

The Face of the Sky for October.

By F.R.A S

Whist. By '■ Five of Clubs "

Our Chess Column. By "Me-

phisto "

A Malevolcnc Critic

P.4GE
3oD
360
361
361
361
362
36 1

365

365

367
368

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowlkdge" as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to tbe Countries nameil : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To tltt' Ka.-t Indies, China, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To AiLstralia, New Zealand, ic 14 0

To any aduress in tbe United Kingdom, the Continent. Canada, United States,
and Bgjpt, the Subscription is 7s. 6d., as heretofore.

December 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

25

^ ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE £
&ENa.iITERATURE.& ART

LONDON: DECEMBER 1, 1886.

THE CLOUDBERRY.

WONDER whether I need begin by telling
the Englis^h reader that Mount Washington
is the highest peak of the AVhite Mountain
range in New Hampshire, and practically the
most elevated summit along the entire Atlantic
-.lope of America, its only rival in this respect
being some remote and inland Carolinian
lills, unknown to fame and unvisited by the gregarious
Transatlantic tourist? We had a splendid day for our easy
ascent by the steep little railway on the Eigi pattern, with
middle cog-wheel and oblique engine, which pulls and toils
up (he abrupt gradients ; and when we reached the top,
though the clouds were swirling and wreathing around us,
the view was magnificent, and the morning clear as heart
could wish it. As soon as we had drunk our fill of the
jjrospect, however, we turned of course to our more proper
and professional task of botanising ; and the very first
plant that attracted my attention, wedged in among the
crannies of the huge boulders that strew the summit, as
chance would have it, was an overblown cloudberry. I
took it up and gazed at the northern herb with a certain
fond and reverent attention, for it was the fii-st cloudberry I
had ever seen in the living state, though I knew its form
and features well enough already from frequent illusti-a-
tions, and from herbarium specimens. Itut it was quite
another thing to pick that curious Arctic plant here among
its own chilly native surroundings, and to recognise in it a
last lingering relic of the glacial epoch on the top of Mount
Washington .

Of course you remember the pictures of the cloudberry in
all the books of Arctic exploration. There is a very good
one in Nordenskiold's " Voyage of the Vega," for the cloud-
berry is the great stand-by of the Polar voyager as a fresh
fruit and preservative against scurvy. No other edible
berry grows so far north among the ice and snow ; no other
can so readily be obtained by northern sailors in their last
port as this dwarf representative of the bramble genus.
But besides its importance as an article of food in high
latitudes, the cloudberry has a deep scientific interest as
well as a typical specimen of the glacial flora which came in
with the approach of the Great Ice Age. No other herb
could moie admirably illustrate from a certain side the
striking traits of the Arctic vegetation, and the peculiar
way in which it has been modified in order to meet the
needs of a chilly climate.

The cloudberry, indeed, is a true circumpolar type of
plant, found in turfy bogs, tundras, and peat mosses, all
round the Arctic circle, in Europe, Asia, and America
alike. In the extreme north — in Siberia, Finland, Norway,
and British North America — it is a lowland plant, inhabit-
ing the wide water-logged plains with which those sub-

arctic lands are so thickly covered. But as it ranges
southward it clings rather to the upland bogs, the wet
places on the mountain sides, and the moist crannies of
the rocks and boulders that strew their summits. Gener-
ally a high northern herb, it descends towards the summer
sun in Europe along the Baltic shore into the heart of
Germany ; and it occurs abundantly among the combes and
hollows of the Scotch Highlands, as well as less frequently
in the wet moorlands of Yorkshire, Donegal, and even
North Wales. I might easily, therefore, have seen the
cloudberry on our own side of the Atlantic, had I been
there to look for it, without taking the trouble of going
to America to hunt it up ; but it takes a lifetime for a
man to make personal acquaintance with all the plants
even of our limited little British flora in their native
haunts; and, as a matter of fact, I had never before seen a
cloudberry " all a-growing and a-blowing," as the coster-
mongers say, till I picked it that day on the summit of
Mount Washington. And, indeed, I w-as not sorry that I
.should have caught my first glimpse of this Arctic strayling
in such a sublime and congenial situation.

And now, at last, what is the cloudberry \ It is a little,
green, herbaceous bramble, with no woody stem, no trailing
blanches, no stout armour of defensive prickles — a mere
succulent herb, low and inconspicuous, seldom rising more
than three or four inches above the frostbound ground —
in short, a blackberry bush reduced by cold to the abject
condition of a wild strawberry vine. Like many other
Aictic and mountain plants, its rootstock creeps under
ground, so as to avoid being frozen during the chill wintei-s
of its chosen habitat ; and here and there it sends up short
herbaceous stems, wdiolly unarmed, and bearing at best only
two or three round or kidney-shaped leaves, somewhat
toothed at the edge, and often cut into from five to nine
broad lobes or divisions. The flowers are large and w-hite,
as so frequently happens with northern or upland plants,
and they are far prettier and more conspicuous than our
English raspberry or blackberry blossoms, so as to attract
the short-lived northern butterflies, by whose aid the
blu.ssoms are probably always fertilised. Self-fertili.sation,
indeed, is efficiently guarded against in this instance by the
flowers having become specialised each to a single sex.
One plant will bear, however, blossoms with stamens only,
and no pistil or fruit ; another will have fertile flowers
with pistds ouly, and no stamens to supply them with
pollen. In this way the benefits of cross fertilisation are
rendered obligatory, so that insect visits become a matter of
prime necessity to the existence of the plant. The fruit,
when ripe, is rather large, of the raspberry type, but con-
sisting of a few big grain,s onlj'. In fine, it is a delicate
amber colour, or sometimes almost orange-red ; and the
flavour, though agreeably acid, is pleasant and tasty. Alto-
gether, a distinct boon to the northern ti-aveller, this
inconspicuous reduced little bramble.

In origin, the cloudberiy must be regarded as a Polar
plant of the period immediately preceding the Great Ice
Age ; and it owes its development to the immense though
gi-adual lowering of the Arctic temperature which preceded
that long, slow, secular cataclysm. The bramble genus, to
which the cloudberry belongs, falls naturally into two main
groups, the blackberries and the raspberries, as we call them
in the vernacular, from the two representatives best known
in actual practice to non-botanical British humanity. The
great distinguishing mai-k between them lies not in the
colour (for some American blackberries are bright red, if I
may be forgiven so obvious a bull. whUe the common black
raspberry of the Northern States looks a good deal blacker
than the' English blackberry itself), but in the way in which
the fruit behaves when separated from the " hull," " hank,"

26

KNO^A^LEDGE -

[December 1, 1886.

or receptacle. With the true raspberries, as everybody
knows, the fruit comes oft' entire like a thimble, leaving a
hollow in the centre where the hull used to be. In the
true blackberries, on the other hand, the fruit adheres tightly
to the hull, which has to be broken off" and eaten with it.
Of these two types, the cloudberry belongs to the first or
raspberry group, as do also our common red raspberries, the
American black raspberry, the purple-flowering raspberry,
and the Nutka bramble of our shrubberies and gardens.
The English blackberries and dewberries, on the other hand,
as well as the numerous American black and red black-
bsrries, belong rather to the second or true bramble
class.

The brambles must already have existed abundantly in
the world long before the Glacial Epoch, because we find
several representatives of both groups in Europe and
America, some of them nearly identical on both sides of the
Atlantic, and others widely difl'erent in character and aspect.
They were then already bushy plants, armed for the most
part witli stout prickles, and divided into many of their
existing species, though a few have since diverged inde-
pendently, such as the wild red raspberry of America,
which, though closely resembling our European type, is now
adjudged to be specifically distinct in certain minor technical
peculiarities. Time has sufliced to work the change under
diverse conditions. But there could be as yet no cloud-
bei-ries, because there were as yet none of the Arctic or
snowy-mountain conditions under which alone the cloud-
berry flourishes. The herbaceous brambles are all northern
and cold-weather species, and they could not possibly have
come into existence before the Glacial Epoch made the
proper habitats of such species possible. If you look into
such a book as Professor Babingtou's " Manual of British
Botany" (written without regard to evolutionary principles)
you will find the main division of the brambles made into —
.V. Shrubby, and B. Herbaceous brambles; the raspberry
and blackberry being classed under the first, and the cloud-
berry and stone-bramble under the second heading. But a
moment's consideration will show you that this is not a
point of classificatory or hereditary importance at all : it is
a mere point of adaptive modification. The real division of
the ancestral type, long before the Glacial Epoch, during
the warm Pliocene or Miocene times, was the one I have
given above, into " thimbleberries " and " stickberries ; "
and the modern Arctic cloudberries, and so forth, are mere
stunted and herbaceous developments of the original rasp-
berry or thimbleberry group. Any one who will take the
trouble to look at the distribution of the species at the
present day will see that this must be so.

We have in England a plant which shows in a less degree
the peculiar dwarfing eSect of the Glacial Epoch on the
bramble type ; I mean the little stone-bramble of the
northern shires, whose creeping rootstock sends out a few
unobtrusive runners and almost herbaceous stems, which
rise, however, far higher than those of the cloudberry, often
to OS much as a foot from the ground. These stems are
slender and downy, and armed with a few soft prickles, the
last dwindling abortive representatives of the brambly hooks
of our hedge blackberry. Now the stone-bramble is clearly
a dwarfed form, which has felt the eflect of the northern
winter, but has been less deeply impressed by its dwindling
effects than the cloudberry itself. It is, in fact, a somewhat
more southern though upland type, difl'nsed over all the
mountain regions of Europe and Central Asia, and not by
any means so distinctly circumpolar as the more decidedly
herbaceous forms. Similarly, in America they have a little
plant, the dwarf raspberry, which I found abundantly among
the valleys of the White Mountain range, whose stems are
annual, low, herbaceous, and devoid of prickles, but with

three leaflets to each stalk, instead of a simple leaf like the
cloudberry's, and with a blossom more like that of the garden
raspberry. This intermediate form descends as far south as
Penns3dvania, and has not felt the glacial dwarfing nearly
so much as the far northern species.

For fear of misapprehension, I ought distinctly to add
that I do not consider any of these half-herbaceous rasp-
berries as really halfway houses between the cloudberry
and its original Pliocene ancestor. They are rather inde-
pendent species, which have undergone to a less extent the
same soit of dwarfing from the same cold-weather causes.
Just in like manner the Glacial Epoch developed the tiny
northern herbaceous willow out of the tree-like willows of
Pliocene times ; and it turned the birch into that queer
little, stunted, span-high form which we still find in Arctic
climates, and whose relics occur in the glacial leaf-beds.
The immediate ancestor of the cloudberry, indeed, must
have been a bushy raspberry answering closely in type to
the Nutka bramble, which, though shrubby, has no prickles,
and agrees with the cloudberry in its simple leaves and
large white flowers, as well as in the broad flat form of its
depressed fruit. Indeed, the cloudberry still bears on its
very face one mark of having ultimately descended from
such an ancestor, because, though it now produces only two
or three leaves on each stem, the lease of the stem is
covered with a mass of empty stipules (or winged leaf-
stalks, to talk popularly), which recall the memory of a
time when the stem was much taller than now, and
produced an immense number of leaves. The botanical
reader will know what I mean when I say that the
internodes between these stipules remain undeveloped in
consequence of the great dwarfing of the stem and sup-
pression of the accompanying leaves. The stipules them-
selves, in short, are the outward and visible sign of the
derivation of the cloudberry from a once much larger and
taller bramble.

The Arctic raspberry, on the other hand, said (though no
doubt erroneously) to have been gathered on the Isle of
Mull, and common in high latitudes in Europe, is a dwarfed
herbaceous descendant of a pink-flowered species with three
leaflets to each leaf, akin in all probability to the dwai-f
raspberry of the Northern States. In short, when the
Glacial Epoch came on, it reduced to Aictic scrubbiness all
the plants that could accommodate themselves to the altered
circumstances ; and hence the dwarf herbaceous habit is
really no test of descent or relationship at all, but a mere
result of the chilly conditions under which the species now
live.

One word as to the occurrence of tlie cloudberi-y on the
summit of Mount Washington at the present day. During
the period of the greatest glacial extension this little plant,
with hundreds of other Arctic species, w-as driven down
far into the central lowlands of America, where they all
flourished together until the ice began to retreat again.
When the glacial sheet retired northward, however, the
Arctic plants retired with it; but a few of them were left,
above the limit of trees, on the chilly tops of the White
Mountains. That is almost the only station for the cloud-
berry in the United States ; but in the extreme north- — at
Lubeck, in Maine — it reappears upon the sea-coast, and
thence it extends through frozen Nova Scotia, and still
moi-e frozen Labrador, till it i-eaches at length the Arctic
circle. Like a living fossil, it recalls to us still on these
wind-swept New Hampshire heights the long secular winter
of the glacial period.

December 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

THE STORY OF CREATION.

a plain account of evolution.
By Edwaed Clodd.

PART II.— EXPLAXATORT.
Chapter I.
It must be so, lor miracles arc coasefl ;
And therefore we must needs admit the means
How things are perfected.

Archbishop of Canterbuuv :
Henrij Y., act i., scene 2.

The gases gather to the solid firmament ; the chemic lump arrives
at the plant and grows ; arrives at the quadruped and wallis ; arrives
al the }iiaii and thinks. — E.meeson.

N the second j^aper of tliis series a summary
account was given of the materials wliich make
up the Universe.* These were comprised under
the terms Matter and Power. Power is that
wliich acts upon Matter in the production or
destruction, the increase or decrease of motion;
and, as explained ah-eady, it is upon tliis two-
fold and opposite action that we base our assumptions as to
the nature of Matter — i.e. as consisting of atoms of infinite
minuteness.

That form of Power which draws the atoms togetlier into
larger or smaller massc.s, and which resists their separation,
we call Force ; that form of Power which drives the atoms
apart and resists their combination, we call Energy. Both
Force and Energy are, like Matter, indestructible ; in other
words, the sum-total of each is a fixed quantity. Force
inheres in, and cannot be taken from, each atom of weigh-
able mattei'j but Energy passes from atom to atom and
from mass to mass, its vehicle being that unweighable
ethereal medium which is supposed to fill the spaces between
bodies and between the particles of bodies. In this diverse
way each is ceaselessly acting : Force aggregating the par-
ticles round various centres, Energy separating them and
passing into space, only fractions of it striking intervening
bodies, as, e.g., in the interception of the sun's radiant
energy by the planets. And the certain result, however
immeasurably distant, is that all the Energy of the Universe
will be dissipated, and that all the Matter of the Universe
will become cold, solid, and inert under the aggregating and
unopposed action of Force.

The problem we have now to consider is this : — Given
^Matter and Power as the raw materials of the Universe ; is the
interaction of Power, under its two forms of a combining
Force and a separating Energy, upon iV[atter, sufficient to
account for the totality of non-living and living contents of
the Universe %

Of the beginning, of what was before the jiresent state of
things, of what will follow the end of it, we know nothing,
and speculation about it is futile. Science is concerned with
the Universe as we find it, the mobile vehicle of orderly
succession ; tlie Evolved, or X^ufolcled ; ,U_is Werdeu, as the
Germans say, or the Becoming ; not less full of endless
significance because the questions of its origin and destiny^
are without answer ; not less wrapped in my.stery as to its
idtimate nature because we de.scribe it as a mechanical pro-
cess, and do not fall back upon unknown agencies or assume
unknown attributes of Matter or Power to explain it.

But since everything points to the finite duration of the
material universe — for what it now is it once was not, and
its state is ever changing — we must make a start some-
where. And we are therefore compelled to posit a pri-

* Knowledge, December 188.5, p. 41. The reader will find the
present explanation easier to follow i£ he will read, the whole of
cliap. ii. in Part I. again.

mordial nebulous, non-luminous state, when the atoms, with
their inherent forces and energies, stood apart from one
another in momentary pause. Not evenly distributed, else
Force would have drawn them together as an uniform
spherical mass round a common centre of gravity, and
Energy, awakened by the collision of atom with atom,
would have pas.sed profitle.-^sly in the form of heat to the
ethereal medium : but varying in position and character,
with special gravitation towards special centres. Tliis
theory of unstableness and unlikeness at the outset squares
with the unequal distribution of Matter, with the move-
ments of its masses in diflerent directions and at different
rates, and with the ceaseless redistribution of Matter and
Power. All changes of state are due to the rearrangement
of atoms through the play of attracting forces and repelling
energies, resulting in the evolution of the seeming like into
the actual unlike, of the shapeless into the shapely, of the
simple into the more and more complex, till the highest
complexity is reached in the development of living matter.
If all that is, from fire-fused rock to the genius of man, was
wrapped up in primordial matter, with its forces and energies,
we can speak of simplicity only in a relative sense as contrasted
with the infinite variety around us which has been evolved.

InorijHiiic Evolution. — Under this head we may ajiply
the foregoing to the earliest stages of cosmical change, to the
Evolution of Stellar Sys(ein.s.

The exi.stence of nebulous or cloud-like objects in space,
which the telescoiie, aided by the analysis of the spectro-
scope, proves to be immense masses of glowing gas, together
with other evidence to be didy cited in its place, justifies
the a^umption of a yet more discrete state of the atoms
which formed the material universe at the outset. But,
although we are ftxmiliar with matter in an invisible state,
as, e.g., in the element oxygen, which, in a combined state,
forms nearly half the solid framework of the globe, we can
form no conception of the extreme rarefaction of the primi-
tive atoms. Upon this Helmholtz remarks that " if we
calculate the density of the mass of our planetary system
at the time when it was a nebulous sphere which reached
to the path of the outermost planet, we should find that it
would require several millions of cubic miles of such matter
to weigh a s-ingle grain." Given, however, the play of
Force and Energy uj'on this difl'used matter, the mechanics
of the process which resulted in the visible universe are not
difficult of explanation. The Force bound up in each
atom, acting as affinity, combined the atoms as molecules ;
actinc as cohesion, it united the molecules into masses ;
acting as gravitation, it drew the masses toward their several
centres of gravity. One of these masses, by no means the
largest, became the nucleus of our solar system, which may
be taken as a type of all other masses whose evolution
into stellar systems is as yet complete.

As the atoms rushed together. Energy, which had
hitherto existed in a state of rest as passive separation, be-
came active in molar and molecular form. As molar energy
it imparted motion to each mass, a motion of rotation on its
own axis ; and a motion in an orbit, as in the proper motion of
double stars, and of the jilanets round the sun. As molecular
energy it imparted a rapid vibratory backwards and forwards
motion to the molecules, which motion was forthwith con-
verted into the radiant energy of heat and light, rendering
the mass self-luminous. From the moment of their con-
version the dissipation of both forms of energy ensued.
The friction of the ethereal medium slowly retards the
orbital motion of every mass, the molar energy thus lost
passing into that medium, until finally the movement in the
orbit will be stopped, and the force of gravitation, no longer
resisted by energv, will draw the smaller masses to the larger,
as vagrant meteors are being ceaselessly drawn to planets

28

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

and sun. Moons will gravitate to their planets, planets to
their suns, and so on, until the matter of the universe, with
intermediate outbursts of energy, becomes cold, inert, and
solid, and Force will have subdued all things unto itself.
The molecular energy likewise passes, but more rapidly,
into the ethereal medium, throbbing ceaselessly in all
directions to the farthest marge of space, if any marge there
be. Small portions of it are intercepted by each mass, but
of these the larger proportion is reflected back, the remainder
setting up sepai-ative motions on the surface, as, e.g., in the
fomiliar case of the fiction of the sun's radiant heat on the
earth. Of this solar energy, which is radiated equally in
every direction, the earth does not intercept much more
than the two thousand millionth part. And of this the larger
proportion is reflected back, only a fraction, to be itself
finally dissipated, being used to maintain the earth as the
theatre of changes whose highest result is life.

Such, with much detail left out for clearer presentment
of the subject, is the mode in which the shining hosts of
stellar systems, as the sand by the sea-shore innumerable,
appear to have been evolved from nebulous matter. In
this exposition students of astronomy will recognise the
'• nebular theory " of Kant and Laplace, but with important
modifications due to the doctrine of the Conservation of
Energy, which was unknown in their day.*

EvohUion of the Solar System. — We may now leave the
general for the particular, and apply the theory to the
evolution of the stellar system to which we belong, and to
that portion of it which we call our earth. If the explana-
tion of the origin of the sun and planets repeats somewhat
of the foregoing, it will only bring home to us the uniformity
of the pi'ocess, and show that what is true of the whole
holds good for every part, and for the parts of every part
down to the indivisible and unseen atoms of which all things
consist.

Two striking pieces of evidence of the common origin of
the sun and planets may be cited at the outset: — (1) They
ai-e made of like materials ; (L') they have like motions.

1. The spectroscope has revealed to us the chemical con-
stitution of several of the fixed stars, their enormous dis-
tance not aflfecting the trustworthiness of the analysis. It
evidences to the existence of substances in the glowing
vapours of their atmospheres akin to those which feed the
lires of the sun ; and if such identity of stuflf is proved to
exist between the sun and other stars, we may with reason
look for still closer identities of material lietween him and
his family of planets, moons, and erratic bodies.

2. The planets and, with rare exceptions, their satellites,
revolve round him in the .same direction ; they also, so far
as is known, rotate on their axes in the same direction, and
very nearly coincide in the .shape and planes of their orbits,
which are almost in a plane with the sun's equator. Now,
since the consequences would be the same were these
motions, both on axis and in orbit, in the reverse direction,
the inference is obvious that there was an uniform motion
of lotation of the mass from which they were severally formed.

As with the primitive nebula from which that mass was
detached, so with the mass itself; there were differences of
density throughout. On no other theory is its .segregation
into a multitude of bodies explicable. As the rotation of
the mass quickened with the indrawing of the particles
towards the common centre of gravity, the energy of molar
separation acted most powerfully in the region of tlie bulging
equator, and, overcoming the force of cohesion along the line

* For a lucid criticism of the defects of Laplace's theorv, more
especially in its failiu-e to account for the peculiar distribution
of the larger and smaller planets, the reader may study with
advantage Mr. Proctor's ess.iy on "How the Planets Grew" in his
" Expanse of Heaven."

of least resistance, detached certain portions one after another
at irregular intervals from the central mass as it retreated
within itself. These portions were the nuclei of the planetary
groups, in which the like processes of contraction and rupture
were repeated, the masses detached becoming moons, or, as
in the case of Saturn, rings of satellites. In respect of the
diflased and highly energised fugitive masses, as comets and
meteors, Mr. Proctor has adduced cogent reasons in support
of the theory that they are " products of expulsion from suns,
from giant planets, and from orbs like our earth when in
the sun-like state."

The origin of the planets and their moons being found
in the mode described above, it is obvious that in their
primitive state they were molten, and shone by their own
light. The smaller the body, the sooner would its molecular
energy be dissipated ; in other words, the quicker it lost its
heat. The present in a large degree interprets the past, and
explains the several stages of the membars of our system,
according to their bulk. The sun, whose mass exceeds the
combined mass of all the planets more than 700 times, is
still slowly contracting, and therefore still radiating energy.
The cloud-laden atmospheres of the larger planets, as Jupiter
and Saturn, are torn by cyclones only second to those of the
sun in their fury, and the molten centres feed volcanic
outbursts to which those of Vesuvius and Krakatoa are
squibs. But as for the smaller bodies, their turmoil is calmed
and their light extinguished ; the store of energy is exhausted ;
the forces of aflinity and cohesion have gained the upper
hand and drawn the particles together into the solid form.
Thus it is with the moon, on whose dead and barren surface
we may read the future of the giant planets and the sun
himself. For the history of one is the history of all ; each
has passed, or is passing, from the indefinite nebulous state,
through numberless modifications, to the definite and solid
state ; by decrease in volume and increase in density. What
the earth is, the moon was ; what the moon is, the earth
will be.

Evolution of the Earth. — To this passage from the sun-like
to the solid state the earth bears witness. Its flattened
poles, its bulging equator, its spheroidal shape, are the eflects
of rotation on a fluid or viscous mass ; whilst the geologically
oldest parts of the crust — for there is no primogeniture in
matter — are of a structure which is producible only by the
fusion of particles under intense heat. As that crust, thin
and mobile at the outset, continued to cool and thicken,
it evidenced more strikingly to the play of forces and
energies within and of energies, and, in lesser degree,
of forces without. The cooling and shrinking of the
internal mass, as the stored-up energy slipped away, caused
tension of the crust, which, yielding to the force of gravi-
tation, was drawn inwards, and cracked and crumpled
into mountains and valleys, and into the deep depressions
which the great oceans have filled since the time when their
waters were first condensed from the thick primitive
vapours that swathed the cooling earth. Then the con-
tinuous action of the sun's radiant energy, operating
through air and water upon the increasingly rigid crust,
dissolved its superficial particles, and re deposited them
as stratified rocks, in endless beauty and variety, over
the surface of the globe. And herein lies the major
cause of our earth's present condition as a possible abode
of life. For its native supply of energy — that of posi-
tion derived from the momentum given it when thrown
off from the parent mass; and the still unspent, but always
lessening, store of internal heat manifest in the volcano and
the earthquake — would not sufiice to arrest effeteness and
the wrapping of the globe in a winding-sheet of ice. It is
the imported supply from the sun which alone does that, for
in its absence the trivial tidal energy due to the moon would

December 1, 1886.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

20

be futile, because the seas and oceans would be Eolid.
Opposing the force which attracts evervthicg into inert
union, the solar energy sets up the separative motions, the
ceaseless redistributions, which give rise to the grand climatal
and vital phenomena of nature. Expanding the air, it causes
the inrush to which winds and storms are due ; heating the
water, it excites tlie warm currents and draws lieavenward
the aqueous vapour, which, driven by the wind, returns,
when its energy is lost, as rain and snow, those silent yet
mightiest agents of mechanical, chemical, and vital changes.
But the full significance of the work done by the sunbeams
that strike the earth's surface will appear when we treat of
the relation of the living to the not-living.

Ok,

MARTINGALES ;

SURE (?) GAMBLING SYSTEMS.

Mm

N previous pages I have considei-ed, under the
head of " Gamblers' Fallacies," certain plans Ijy
which some fondly imagine that fortune may
be forced. I have shown how illusor}' the
schemes really are which at first view appear
so promising. There are other plans the fallacy
in which cannot be quite so readily seen, though
in reality unmistakable, when once the conditions of the
problem are duly considered.

Let me in the first place briefly run through the reasoning
relating to one of the simpler methods already considered at
length.

The simplest method for winning constantly at any such
game as rouge et noir is as follows : — The player stakes the
sum which he desires to win, say \L Either he wins or
loses. If he wins he again stakes \!., having already gained
one. If, however, he loses, he stakes 2/. if this time he
wins, he gains a balance of 1/., and begins again, staking 1/.,
having already won 1/. If, however, he loses the stake of
'21., or .'5/. in all (for 11. was lost at the first trial), he stakes
■il. If he wins at this third trial, he is 11. to the good, and
begins again, staking 1/. after having already won I!. If,
however, he loses, he stakes 8/. It will readily be seen that
by going on in this way the player always wins IJ. when at
last the right colour appears. He then, in every case, puts
by the 11. gained and begins again.

It seems then at first as though all the player has to do
is to keep on patiently in this way, starting always with
some small sum which he desires to win at each trial,
doubling the stake after each loss, when he pockets the
amount of his first stake and begins again. At each trial
the s;ime sum seems certainly to be gained, for he cannot go
on losing for ever. Sj that he may keep on adding pound
to pound, acZ ivjinilum, or until the "bank'' tires of the
losing game.

The fallacy consists in the assumption that he cannot
always lose. It is true that theoreticall}' a time must
always come when the right colour wins. But the player
has to keep on doubling his stake practically, not theoreti-
cally ; and the right colom- may not appear till his pockets
are cleared. Theoretically, too, it is certain that be the
sum at his command ever so large, and the stake the bank
allows ever so great, the player will be ruined at last at this
game, if— which is always the case — the sum at the com-
mand of the bank is very much larger. It woidd be so
even if the bank allowed itself no advantage in the game,
whereas we know that there is a certain seemingly small,
but in reality decisive, advantage in f^ivour of the bank at
every trial. Apart from this, however, the longest pocket
is bound to win in the long run at the game of speculation
which I have described. For, though it seems a tolerably

sure game, it is in reality purely speculative. At every trial
there is an enormous probability in favour of the player
winning a certain insignificant sum ; but, j)er contra, there
is a certain small probability that he will lose, not a small
sum, or even a large sum, but all that he possesses — sup-
posing, that is, that he continues the game with steady
courage up to that final doubling which closes his gambhng
career, and also supposing that the bank allows the doubling
to continue far enough ; if the bank does not, then the last
sum staked within the bank limit is the amount lost by the
player, and, though he may not be absolutely ruined, be
loses at one fell swoop a sum very much larger than that
insignificant amount which is all he can win at each trial.

Although this gambling superstition has misled many, yet
after all it is easily shown to be a fallacy. It is too simple
to mislead any reasonable person long. And indeed, when
it has been tried, we find that the unfortunate victim of the
delusion very soon wakes to the fact that his stakes increase
dangerously fast. When it comes to the fifth or sixth
doubling, he is apt to lose heart, fearing that the luck which
has gone against him five times in succession may go against
him five times more, which would mean that the stake
already multiplied 32 times would be increased, not 32 times,
but 32 times 32 times, or 1,02-4 times, which would either
mean ruin or a sudden foreclosure on the bank's part and
the collapse of the system.

For the benefit of those who too readily see through a
simple scheme such as this, gamblers have invented other
devices for their own or others' destruction, devices in which
the fallacy underlying all such plans is so carefully hidden
that it cannot very readily be detected.

The following is a martingale (as gamblers call these
devices for preventing fortune from rearing against them)
which has mLsled many : —

The gambler* first decides on the amount which he is to
win at each venture — if that can be called a venture which
according to his scheme is to be regarded as an absolute cei'-
tainty. Let us say that the sum to be won is 10^. He divides
this up into any convenient number of parts, say three ; and
say that the three sums making u]) 10^. are 3^., 3^., and U.
Then he prepares a card on the annexed plan (tig. 1 ), where
w stands for winnings, l for losses, and m
(for martingale) heads the working column
which guides the gambler in his successive
ventures.

The first part of the play is light and
fanciful : the player — whom we will call
A — stakes any small sums he pleases until
he loses, making no account of any winnings
which may precede his first loss. This
first loss starts his actual operations.
Say the first loss amounts to 2/. : A enters this sum in
the third column (see fig. 2) as a loss, and akso in the
second under the cross-line. He then stakes the sum of
this number, 2, which is now the lowest in column m, and 3,
the uppermost — that is, he stakes bl. If he loses, he enters
the lost ."i/. in columns m and l ; and next stakes 8/., the
sum of the top and bottom figures {ol. and bl.) in column
M. He goes on thus till he wins, when he enters under the
head w the amount he lias won, and scores out in column m
the top and bottom figures — viz., the 3?. (at the top), and
the last loss (at the bottom). This process is to be continued,
the last stake, if it be lost, being always scored at the
bottom of column m, as well as in the loss column, the last
win being always followed b)- the scoring out of the top and

* The account of the system here considered appeared in the
Cornhill Magazine under the heading " A San Carlo Superstition,"
and was in that place described as "a pretty little martingale"
recently submitted to me by a correspondent of Knowledge.

w

M

L

3

4

Fig. 1.

30

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[Decembee 1, 1886.

w

M

L

£3

3

4

2

£2

5

o

£8

5

5

11

8

8

9

2

2

i

£32

£22 !

bottom remaining numbers in column >[. When this pro-
cess has continued until all the numbers in column m are
scored out, A will be found to have won 10?. ; an<l whatever
the sum he had set himself to win in the first instance, so
long as it lies well within the tolerably wide limits allowed
by the bank, A will always win ju^t this sum in each
operation.

Let us take a few illustrative cases, for in these matters
an absti'act description can never be so clear as the account
of some actual case.

Cionsider, tlien, the accompanying account by A of one of
these little ojjerations. The amount which A sets out to

win is, as before, 10/. He divides this

up into three parts — 31., 31., and 41.
He starts with a loss of '2!., which he
sets in columns m and l. He stakes
next .5/. and loses, setting down .5/. in
columns m and i.. He stakes 8/., the
sum of the top and bottom numbers in
column M, and wins. He therefore sets
8/. under w, and scoi-es out 3/. and 51.,
the top and bottom numbers in column m.
(The reader should here score out these
numbers in pencil.) The top and bottom
numbers now remaining are 31. and 21.
Therefore A stakes now iSl. Say he
*"^°' ^' loses. He therefore sets down 51. both

in column M and column l, and stakes 8/., the sum
of the top and bottom numbers under m. Say he
loses again. He, therefore, puts down 8/. under columns
Ji and L, and stakes 11/., the sum of the top and bottom
numbers under m. Say he wins. He puts down 11/. under
w, and scores out the 3/. left at the top and the 8/. left at
the bottom of the column under Ji. (This the reader should
do in pencil.) He then stakes 9/., the sum of the top and
bottom numbers (4/. and 51. respectively) left under m.
Say he wins again. He then puts down 9/. under w, and
scores out the il. left at the top and the 51. left at the
bottom of the column under m. There now remains only
one number under 3i, namely, 2L, and therefore A stakes 21.
Let us suppose that he loses. He puts down 21. under m
and L, and, following the simple rule, stakes il. Say he wins.
He then puts down il. under w, and scores out 2/. and 2/.,
the only two remaining numbers under sr. A, there-
fore, now closes his little account, finding himself the
winner of 8/., 11/., 91., and 4/., or 32/. in all, and the loser
of 2/., 51., 51., SI., and 2/., or 22/. in all, the balance in his
favour being 10/., the sum he set forth to win.

It seems obvious that the repetition of such a process as
this, any convenient number of times at each sitting, must
result in putting into A's pocket a considerable number of
the sums of money dealt with at each trial. In fact, it
seems at a first view that here is a means of obtaining
untold wealt.h, or at least of ruining any number of
gambling banks.

Again, at a first view, this method seems in all respects
an immense improvement on the simpler one. For whereas
in the latter only a small sum can be gained at each trial,
while the sum staked increases after each failure in geome-
trical progression, in this second method (though it is equally
a gambling superstition) a large sum may be gained at each
trial, and the stakes only increase in arithmetical progression
in each series of failures.

The comparison between the two plans comes out best
when we take the sum to be won undivided, when also the
system is simpler; and, further, the fallacy which under-
lies this, like evert/ system for gaining money with csr-
tainty, is more readily detected, when we consider it
thus.

w

H

! ^

£10

£5

5

13

15

25

25

£35

20

20

25

15

£75

|£65

Take, then, the sum of 10/., and suppose 5/. the first
loss, after which take two losses, one gain, one loss, and
two gains. The table will be drawn
up then as shown — with the balance
of 10/., according to the fatal success
of this system.

On the other hand, take the other
and simpler method, where we double
the original stake after each failure.
Then supposing the losses and gains
to follow in the same succession as in
the case just considered, note that the
first gain closes the cycle. The table
has the following simple form (count-
ing three losses to begin with) : —

We see then at once the advantage in the simj^ler phin
which counterbalances the chief disadvantage mentioned
above. This disadvantage, the rapid in-
crease of the sum staked, is undoubtedly
serious ; but, on the other hand, there is the
important advantage that at the first suc-
cess the sum originally staked is won ;
whereas, according to the other plan, every
failure puts a step between the player and
final success. It can readily be shown that
this disadvantage in the less simple plan just balances the
disadvantage in the simpler plan.

But now let us more particularly consider the pro-
babilities for and against the player involved in the plan
we are dealing with.

Note in the first place that the player works down the
column under m from the top and bottom, taking oflf two
figures at each success, and each figure adding one figure
at the bottom after each failure. To get then the number
of figures scored out we must double the number of
successes ; to get the number added we take simply the
number of failures, and the total number of sums under ll
is therefore the original number set under Ji, increased by
the number of failures. He will therefore wipe out, as it
were, the whole column, so soon as twice the number of
successes either equals or exceeds by one the number of
failures (including the first which starts the cycle). Mani-
festly the former sum will equal the latter, when the last
win removes two numbers under jr. and will exceed the
latter by one when the last win removes only one number
under ji.

Underlying, then, the belief that this method is a certain
way of increasing the gambler's store, there is the assump-
tion that in the long i-un twice the number of successes will
equal the number of failures, together with the number of
sums originally placed under Jl, or with this number
increased by unity. And this belief is sound ; for accord-
ing to the doctrine of pi'obabilities, the number of successes
— if the chances are originally equal — will in the long run
difler from the number of failures by a number which,
though it may perchance be great in itself, will certainly
be very small compared with the total number of trials.
So that twice the number of successes will difler very
little relatively from firice the number of failures, when
both numbers are large ; and all that is required for our
gambler's success is that twice the number of successes
should equal once the number of failures, together with a
small number, viz. the number of sums originally set under
M, or this number increased by unity. So that Jve may say
the gambler is practically certain to Jvin in the long run in
any given trial.

In this respect the method we are now considering
resembles the gambling superstition before examined. In
that case also the gambler is sure to win in the long run, as

December 1, 1886.]

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

31

he requires but a single success to wipe out the losses result-
incr from any numbei°of failures. He is in that case sure to
succeed very much sooner (on the average of a great num-
ber of trials) than in the latter.

But ^e remember that even in that case where success
.eems so assured, and where success in the long run-
t^anting the long run-is absolutely certain ^>e system
steadily followed out means not success but i"!^- JJ°
matter what the limit which the bank rules may assign to
the increase of the stakes, so long as there ^s a limit, and so I
on<^ as the bank has a practically limitless controlof money ,
as compared with the player, he must eventually lose all j

^'Hilcr^rSlnot assume that, because the methodwe |
are considering insures success in the long run, the gambler
can win to any extent when the long run is not assured to
him. Here lies tlie fallacy in this, as in all other methods
of binding fortune to the gambler's wheel. The player
finds that he must win in the long run, and he never .top.
to inquire what run is actually allowed him It maybe
a short run, or a fair run, or even a tolerably long run
but the question for him is, will it be long enough 1 And
note that it is not only the limitation which the bank may
assi.'n to the stakes which we have to consider : the gambler .
poss'essions assign a limit, even though the bank may assign

"°llt us see, then, what prospect there is that in this, as in
the other case, a run of bad luck may ruin the PWer-or
rather, let us see whether it be the case that in this, as n
the other svstem, patient perseverance ui the system may
not mean certain ruin, which ruin may indeed arrive at the
very beginning ofthe confident gamblers career. _

Instead of all but certainty of success in each single trial
which exists in the simpler case, there is in tbe case we are
considering but a high degree of probability. It ly^ ^
much more likely than not that in a given tr al the
gambler will clear the stake which he has set himself
to win. (This is why we so often hear strong expressions
of faith in these systems: again and again we are told
with open-mouthed expressions of wonder that a system of
this sort must be infallible, because, says the narrator, I saw
it tried over and over again, and always with successO
Granted that it is so; indeed, it would be a poor system
which did not give the gambler an excellent chance of
winning a small stake, in return for the risk, by no
means evanescent, that he may lose a very large one.

Observe, now, how the chances for and against are balanced
between the two systems. Suppose such a run of fj^^^f
in the simpler system would mean absolute 'If f ' '*^^ f ^
of the rapid increase (by doubling) of the sum staked by the
"ambler. Say, for instance, a bank allows no stake to ex-
ceed 1 000/., so that ten doublings of a stake of 1/., raising
the stake to 1,024?.. would compel the gambler to stop, and
leave him with all his accumulated losses, amounting to
1 0-^3/. Now. take the case of a gambler trying the other
svstem for a gain of 10?., divided into three sums, il, 61.,
and 4/. under' column m, and suppose that after wmpmg a
number of times he unfortunately starts ten defeats in suc-
cession, his first loss ba^dng been 3?. ; then his second loss
was fi/ ; the third, 0/.; the fourth, ML, and so on, the
tenth being 30?. His total loss up to this point amounts
only to 165?., and is, therefore, much less serious than his
10S.S would have been had he begun by staking 1?., and
doubled that sum nine times, losing ten times in all. More-
over, his next stake, according to the system, is only dM
which is well within the supposed limit of the bank, lint
on the other hand, to carry on the system, he now has to go
on untU he has cleared ofl' all the thirteen sums m the
column under m. To do this he has to run the risk ot

several further runs of ill-luck against him, and it is by no
means necessary that these should be long runs ot luck for
the score against him to become very heavy indeed. Be it
noticed that at every win he scores off only a small portion
of the balance against him, while every run ot luck agamst
him adds to that score heavily. And notice moreover that
^hile on this system he does not quickly approach the
limit which the bank may assign to stakes, he much more
quickly encroaches on his own capital-a circumstance which
?s iuite as seriouslv opposed to his chance of eventual suc-
cesTa the finality of the bank limit. So far as the carrying
out of his svstem is concerned, it matters little -bether he
°s obliged to stop the play on the system because his pockets
Lre emptied, or because the l>ank will not allow h.m further

*°S:riS:rS%ply to the fblWng method which
has recently been suggested by another correspondent of
Knowledge as an improved system :

.. Mv imDrovements," he writes, " consisted, 1st, in arranging that

"''""nd" in .latino- the sum of the extreme figures in the gnidc-
column'onlvihen^thc number of figures in it was even ; when they

1
were odd, c.ff.. I onlv the highest, 3, is staked. Thus the rise ot the

4
stakes is considerably reduced, while the principle of the play is still

"""s'rlt splitting up a game when a run of ill luck
has occurred into -two or more P™*^^. --^d ^.nnmg
these wriatim. Suppose, for instance, thai the
chances ofihe game 'bL-e brought the guide-column
into tbe form given in the margm. Ibe player nas
"ctual ly lost 30, and must win 36 to gam 6 He
mS stake 36. but this would be ra.h. He shou d
play more cautiously, and convert ibe column into
3 m^w columns, totalling 12 each, or even into 4,
totalling 0,

-1

_2

-3

3

-4

(>

(;

12

3 of

or

1 of 2
3
3

Fig. 3.
Tlic numeral-!
■n-itli a mimi^
sign are sup-
posed - to be
struck oat.

Total 12 Total 0

an. play out three - ^-r encoimte. with ^^^ J^^XJ^^S
rfi?rh%;anntirm::nwhilf raping the benefit of a run upon
''lT!:S:;vetbat,allowingtheMnkitssmaUadv«the^h.^^

°^ribf;s^^ai^^^^u^^i^^^-^^^

and here, I have no doubt, the plan breaks down.

The plan is only safer than the others in the sense that it
piJlongf ^be agon -. The introduction of two P-*-- ^^s

rE;-Lftn;;s^^^^

that the bad elTects for one partner of '^ .'"^ °'^,.'' 'T „
would be corrected by the good eflects for the other. A.s a

be remembered that we not only bave to eonaeei i
loss when an unfavourable -l-^^P^^^^^Xo^raWe -a
the operation of the sys em Dunng - un avo^^^ ^^^^^^
the Stakes are rising and the distance vo

on

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

(if ever) safety is reached is increasing. By the suggested
improv'ements the rate of increase in the stakes is undoubtedly
diminished, but the rate at whicli the desired goal is
approached is diminished in equivalent degree. I scarcely
recommend any one to test any of these systems experi-
mentally, even though without any idea of putting them
into actual practice. It is easy enough to apply .such a
test by tossing a coin or cutting a pack a suiBcient number
of times. For, as the essential principle of all such systems
is that they depend on the improbability of an event whose
occurrence — when it does happen — will involve a heavy
loss — a less more than cancelling all preceding gains — it is
naturally likely that any moderately long series of trials
will seem to favour the theory, the fatal run not chancing
to show in a series of trials too short to give it a fair chance
of showing.

It has been thus indeed that many fooli.sh folk have been
tempted to trust in a system which has brought them to
their ruin. Consider what an irony underlies the gambler's
faith in such systems. When he .starts with the hope of
winning, say, 10/., he is perhaps to some degi-ee doubtful ;
but he goes on until perhaps he is at such a stage that if he
.stopped he would be the loser of fifty or sixty pounds. Yet
such is his confidence in liis system that, although at this
stage he is in a very much worse po.sition than at the
beginning, the mere circumstance that he is working out a
system encourages him to persevere. And so he continues
until the time comes- as with due patience and perseverance
it inevitably must — when either the bank limit is reached
or his pockets are emptied. In one case he has to begin
again with a deficit against him much larger than any gain
he has probably made before ; in the second he has the
pleasant satisfaction of noting, perhaps, that if he had been
able to go on a little longer, fortune would (from his point
of view) have changed. Though as a matter of fact, whether
he had had a few hundreds of pounds more or not only affects
his fortunes in putting off a little longer the inevitable day
when the system fails and he is ruined.

We may compare the trust in a .system to such trust as
a bettor on races might put in laying long odds — when the
odds are really long, but not quite so long as those he oilers.
Supposing a bettor to lay odds of 30 to 1 in sovereigns
systematically, when the true odds are 25 to 1, he will pro-
bably win his sovereign on the average twenty-five times in
twenty-six trials, but the 30/. he will have to pay in the
twenty-sixth case (on the average) will leave him 51. to the
bad on that set of trials, excellent though his chance of
success may appear at each separate trial.

In fine, the moths who seek to gain wealth rapidly and
safely by gambling methods and systems are attracted almost
equally by two equally delusive flames. They either trust
in their own good luck, as in buying lottery tickets, backing
the favourite, or the like, hoping to win large sums for
small sums risked (these small sums, howe\-er, being always
in excess of the just value of the chance) ; or they trust in
the bad luck of others, as when they try delusive martin-
gales (though they never see what they are really doing in
such cases), or when they lay long odds (always longer than
the just odds), hoping to win many small sums at small risk
of losing large ones; or they combine both methods. In-
evitably, in the long run, they lose more in many small
sums than they get back in a few large ones; and they lose
more in a few large sums than they get back in many small
ones.^ They lose all round, yet they delude themselves all
round into the belief that they are wise.

INDIAN MYTHS ABOUT THUNDER.

By " Stella Occidess."

IHE almost universal belief prevails among
the North American Indians that thunder
is a great bird. The Dacotahs explain in
this way the velocity with which thunder-
storms travel. A. large bird starts the
rumbling, and a number of smaller birds
keep it up ; hence the long duration of the
pi-als. The Indians say that the young birds, or thunders,
do the mischief, and are like the young men, who will not
listen to the words of wisdom. The old thunder, or bird,
does not kill anybody, nor do any kind of mischief.*

The Dacotahs show a place near the source of the St.
Peter's, called Thunder-tracks, where the footprints of the
thunder-bird are seen in the rocks twenty-five miles apart.t
The great thunder-bird is actually supposed to have been
shot in Dacotah, .and the exact spot is shown.

Mrs. Eastman says that there is no end to the fancies
entertained by the Sioux concerning thunder. They believe
a thunder-storm to be a struggle between Unk-ta-he, the
god of waters, and Wauhkeon, the thunder-bird, for the
command of their nation. The following story was related
by one of the oldest men in this tribe, who was revered as
a medicine man of great powers : — "Unk-ta-he is as power-
ful as the thunder-bird Waukheon. Each wants to be the
greatest god of the Dacotahs, and they have had many
battles. My father was a great medicine man ; he was
killed many years ago, and his spirit wandered about the
earth. The thunder-bird wanted him, and XTnk-fa-he
wanted him, for they said he would make a wonderful
medicine man. Some of the sons of Unk-ta-he fought
against the sons of the thunder-bird. The young thunder-
birds were killed, .and then Unk-ta-he took the spirit of my
father to teach him many mysterious things." t

The Dacotah tribes likewise believed in a giant, named
Haokah. Tliis being possesses superhuman powers. He
dre.sses in many colours, and we.irs horns, or a forked hat,
to represent the lightning. With his hands he takes the
thunder and hurls it to the ground. His face is red on one
side and blue on the other, and his eyes are of diflerent
colours. He always carries a bow and arrow in his hand,
but never uses them, "as one look will kill any animal he
wants." His manifestations were foui'fold, and one of the
four winds was the drumstick he used to produce the
thunder.§

The C'hipeways represent thunder brandishing a rattle-
snake, the symbol of the electric flash, and sometimes they
call him the north-west wind, which usually brings the
thunderstorm in the region they inhabit. || Thunder
brandishing a i-attlesnake recalls a Passamaquoddy myth,
which relates how Glooskap changed " certain saucy Indians
into Eattlesnakes because they yelled at the thunder.
Long time ago the Rattlesnakes were Indians. They wei'e
very saucy. They had too much face. They could not be
put down by much, and they got up for very little. When
the great Flood was coming Glooskap told them about it.
They said they did not care. He told them the water
would come over their heads. They said that would be
very wet. He told them to be good, and pray. Then those
Indians hurrahed. He said, ' A great Flood is coming.'
Then they gave three cheers for the great Flood. He said,

» Tylor, " Primitive Culture," vol. i., p. 363.
t EastmaD, " Legends of the Sioux," p. 71.
{ Eastman, " Legends o£ the Sioux," p. 161.

§ Brinton, "Myths of the New World," p. 164. Eastman,
" Legends of the Sioux," p. 1.58.

II Brinton, " Myths of the New World," p. 182.

December !, 1886.]

♦ KNO^WLEIDGK ♦

' The Flood will come and drown you all.' Then these
Indians hurrahed again, and got their rattles and I'attled
them, and had a gi-and dance. The rain began to fall, and
they danced. The thunder roared, and they shook theii-
rattles and yelled at it . Then Glooskap was angiy. He
did not drown tlieni in tlie Flood, however, but he changed
them into Eattlesnakes. Nowadays, when they see a man
coming, they lift up their heads and move them about.
That's the way snakes dance. And they shake their rattles
in their tails, just as Indians shake their rattles wlien they
dance." *

Among the Canadian Indians the dark storm-cloud is
supposed to be a gi-eat bird, and the lightnings are regarded
;is writhing worms or serpents in its beak. These fiery
serpents are believed in to this day, and the thunder is
their hissing.f These serpents are also referred to among
the Algonkin traditions. Michabohad a great conflict with
the shining prince of serpents, who lives in the lake, and
Hoods the earth with its wateis. He destroyed him with a
dart, and, clothing himself with the skin of his foe, he drove
the rest of the serpents to the south, " where in that latitude
the lightnings are last seen in the autumn." The Iroquois
also tell of a great horned serpent '• which rose out of the
lake and devoured the people," until a hero destroyed it
with a thunderbolt. J

Michalio not only overciime the prince of serpents, but
likewise became master of the thunder and lightning, and
with these he destroys his enemies. This again bears a
strong resemblance to an Iroquois myth, about their
thunder god, Heno. He rides through the heavens on the
clouds, and hurls thunderbolts at his enemies, often splitting
great forest trees, and making vast chasms in the earth with
his mighty weapons. He gathers the clouds, pours out the
warm rains, and is chosen as patron of industry, invoked at
seed-time and harvest, and called grandfather by his childfen
tlic Indians.§

Some tribes believe that thunder is the voice of the Gre;it
Spii-it of the four winds speaking from the clouds, telling
them that the time of corn-planting is near. |{

The Mississippi Indians believe that the first man
ascended into heaven, and thunders there.^ The following
Passamaquoddy myth relates the story of a man who became
a " thunder " for a while, but returned to earth after an
absence of seven years. The Passamaquoddies believe that
the rumble of the thundeistorm and the flashes of lightning
are the demonstrations of thunder-spirits, who are playing
ball and shooting their arrows in the heavens.** One day a
Passamaquoddy Indian wished to become "a thunder." All
at once his companions saw him mounting to the sky in the
smoke of the camp fii-e. He was taken up to the abode of the
thunders, |ilaced in a long box, and by some mysterious pi-o-
cess invested with the properties and existence of a thunder
spirit : or, as Louis Jlitchell puts it, he was " thunderfied."
He lived for seven years among the thunders, played ball
with them in the sky, shot his gleaming arrows with them
at the bird tliey are always chasing toward the South,
uiairied a female thunder-spirit, and pursued an active and
contented life of thunder and lightning. Seven years after

• Leiand, " Algonkin Legends," p. iii. '

t Fiske, " Myths and Myth-makers,' p. 5] .

t BrintOD, "Mvths of the New World," p. 122.

§ Tylor, " Prini. Cult.," Vol. II., p. 30.5.

II Schoolcraft, " Indian Tribes," i., p. .S19.

f Tylor, " Prim. Cult.," Vol. II., p. 312.

** In Xorth Germany, the peasants stiU say of thunder that the
angels are playing skittles aloft ; and of the snow, that they are
shaking the feather beds in heaven. Baring-Gould's " Book of
Werewolves," p. 172. [In Brittany, the same idea of skittles or
bowling games going on in heaven prevails : " The gods are playing
at bowls " the servants tell the children when it thunders. — R. P.]

his translation a violent storm passed over the encampment
of the Passamaquoddies ; theie was an unusual and frightful
contention among the thunder spirits; the rumbles were
more terrible than Passamariuoddy had ever heard before ;
the air smelled of brimstone ; tlie sky blazed with red and
yellow flames ; the clouds opened, and great forks of fire
shot out of them : the rain fell in sheets ; peal answered
peal; one tongue of lightning spat out tire to another. The
Passamaqroddies, who never had beheld such a storm,
believed that the legions of the thunder-spirits were waging
their most awful war. They fell down and crossed them-
selves. In the midst of their alarm they s;tw a human form
slide down into their c;uup on a beam of light. It was
their old friend, who had made his escape from pursuing
thunders, shaken off his " timnderfied " existence, and re-
turned to them. He had changed somewhat, but all his old
fi'iends knew him. On this point, at least, he was more
fortunate than poor Rip Van Winkle, whose story, in some
respects, resembles the above. The legend quaintly concludes
with the words, " He lived with his tribe till he died."*

This myth agrees almost word for word with a legend
found in the manuscript of Louis Mitchell. These
" thunders," however, had wings. The chief would give
them orders when to put them on, and always warned them
not to go too low, for " it is sure death for them to be caught
in the crotch of a tree." The roar and crash of the thunder
is the sound of their wings, and their great amusement is to
play ball across the sky. When they return they carefully
put away their wings for their next flight. Leiand considers
that this legend is unquestionably of Eskimo origin, or
common to the Eskimo ; also, because it speaks of thunders
as always endeavouring to kill a great bird in the south.
This is probably the thunder, or storm-bird, called by the
Passamaquoddies W(>chotvsen,that is, Wind-Blower. Another
legend makes Thunder and Lightning the sous of Mount
Ivatahdin.t

With regard to the Wind- Blower, the following tale is
told by the Passamaquoddies : — " The Indians k-lieve tluit
this bird lives far in the north, and sits upon a great rock
at the end of the sky ; t aucl it is because whenever he moves
his wings the wind "blows, they of old times called him that.
When Glooskap was among men, he often went out in his
canoe with bow and iu-rows to kill sea-fowl. At one time it
was every day very windy ; it grew worse ; at last it blew a
tempest, and he could not go out at all. Then he said,
' Wuchowsen, the Great Bird, has done this ! ' He went to
find him ; it was long ere he reached his abode. - He found,
sitting on a high rock, a large white bii-d. ' Grandfather,'
said Glooskap, ' you take no compas.sion on your Koosesek,
your grandchildren. You have caused this wind and storm ;
it is too much. Be easier with your wings I '

' The Giant Bird replied : ' I have been here since ancient
times; in the earliest days, ere atight else spoke, I first
moved my wings ; mine was the first voice, and I will ever
move my wings as I will.' Then Glooskap rose in his might;
he rose to the clouds ; he took the Great Giant Bird
Wuchowsen as though he were a duck, and tied both his
wings, and threw him down into a chasm between deep
rocks, and left him Iving there. The Indians could now go

* Extract from Hie Lerciston Journal, and reprinted in Nem York
Tribune for September 30, 1886.

t " Algonquin Legends of New England." Leiand, p. 265.

{ Compare this with the account of Hroesvelgr, the name of a
giant referred to in the Edda. " In the shape of an eagle he sits at
the end of heaven ; from his wings cometh all wind upon men. He
sits at the north side of heaven, and when he flaps his wings, the
winds flap from under them." The Hindus also believe that tempests
come from Garuda's wings. " Somadeva," 22, 102 : the motion of
his flight stirs the wind. Grimm's " Teutonic Mythology," Vol. II.,
p. 633.

84

♦ KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

out in their canoes all day long, for'there was a dead calm
for manj' weeks and months. And 'with that all the waters
became stagnant. They were so thick that Glooskap could
not paddle his own canoe. Then he thoiight of the Great
Bird, and went to see him. As he had left him he found
him, for this l)ird is immortal. So, raising him, he put him

taoo, the Broken Wing, from the Micmoc, but there is no
mention of Glooskap.*

Glooskap, as the greatest magician, subdues the Giant of
the North, the terrible god of the stovm. The winds must
have been terrible in those olden times if the winds of the
present day have only half the strength of former storms.

Southern Index Map, showing the 8outhern Hemisphere, and Part of the Northern on the Stekeogeaphic Pro.jeciiun.

on his rock again, and untied one of his wings. Since
then the winds have never been as terrible as in the old
time."

This story is also from the original, ami found in the

. manuscript of Louis Mitchell (an Indian member of the

Legislature of Maine, who.se researches are of great intei'est).

The main incidents of tliis story are repeated iii Tumilkoou-

A ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

THIS mouth we give the southern index map, which,
with the northern map on the .same plan, given last
month, presents the whole sphere, and as divided for the pur-
pose of the one-scale atlas, the maps of which are now in hand.

* " Algonquin Legends." Lelaml, p. iii.

December 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

DECEMBKR, JASUAKV, AND KEBRUARV.

3 HERE are few features of a journey »outh
more interesting than the change by which
night after night new stars are brought
into view. IjOw clown towards the southern
liorizon constellations unknown in our
northern heavens are seen hour by hour,
night after night. As the stout ship ploughs
her way onwards the star groups already
seen creep gradually higher in the southern skies, fresh
groups taking their place along the southward verge of the
star canopy. The stars which had been overhead at home
pass downwards towards the north ; the stars which had
been high in the southern skies pass overhead, and are seen
northwards ; and the stars which had been high towards
the north sink lower, or pa.ss beneath the northern horizon.
But changes such as these attract less notice than the
changes towards the south, because they bring no new stars
into view, whereas not a clear night comes in any voyage
towards the south but stars never seen in our latitudes
can be recognised low down in that dii'ection. It is
as when we climb a rounded hill, seeing at each step new
features beyond its outline, only that though we are
rounding a globe surface in travelling we cannot bu said to
climb, seeing that our distance from the centre remains
unchanged save for the oblateness of the earth's spheroidal
globe.

It has seemed to me well (the idea occui-red long after this
work was well entered on) to use these southern maps to
illustrate the change of the heavens towards the south in
southward travelling, as well as to show (which was their
primary purpose) the aspect of the southern heavens, month
by month and hour by hour, in southern latitudes. Thus these
maps may serve as companions for travellers from northern
to southern regions, enabling them, at whatever time their
journey may take place, to lecognise the new stars rising
steadily above the southern horizon as they themselves
advance steadily southwards.

Suppose, for instance, that the traveller is on his way
south from the latitude of the middle of the British Isles, in
the month of February. The map of the southern skies in
the present number of Knowledge presents in its upper half
the southern half of the heavens as seen at the houi-s named
underneath the map, in England and Wales, Scotland and
Ireland, or in any part of the northern hemisphere in the
same latitudes. Of coui'se this is only absolutely true for \
one exact latitude, viz., 52° north, but it is quite near
enough for ordinary study of the star-strewn heavens
between latitudes 45° and 60° north. The point marked z,
which, ^s the map is intended to be used in the southern
hemisphere, represents the north point of the horizon, is the
zenith, or point overhead, for the northern use of the map I
am now considering. The point E is on the horizon due east,
the point w is on the horizon due west — in both uses of the
map ; but whereas for the southern use e o w represents a
semicircle passing from east at E overhead at o to west at w,
in the northei-n use it represents the horizon from east at E
to due south at o and to west at w.

In England, then, we have at the time and hours named
under the map, Orion at hLs highest nearly due south.
Almost overhe;id is the night star Capella, a of the Con-
stellation Auriya. Along the horizon we have Hydra in the
south-east, a great vacant region all around, a part of the
poop of Argo, Canis the Greater Dog, Colunibu the Dove,

Eridanus'. the Great River, and the upper half of the body
of Cetv-s the Sea Monster.*

Travelling southwards, it is the stars below o in our map
which at the times named telow the map are coming
gradually into view. More and more of Argo rises above
the horizon somewhat to the east of the south point, more
and more oi Eridfuius towards the south-west. The south
point of the horizon advances along the south pole of the
heavens as the traveller advances towards the south, and at
a rate varying precisely as liis does, for the plan of the pro-
jection is such that equal distances on the star sphere are
represented by equal distances along all diameters of the
map. The varying southern horizon is not shown in the
maps, but can easily be pictured as an arc (not far from
circulai-) running from e to w through the south point of
the horizon, advancing southwards as described.

After travelling southward to about 38° north, the bright
star Canopus comes into view somewhat east of south. At
about 25° north latitude the Greater Magellanic Cloud
begins to be seen due south. Soon after the whole of this
strange congeries of stars and star clouds has become visible,
the southern horizon, shifting southwards, passes below the
whole of Arijo on the eastern side, and the whole of Eridamis,
even to the bright Achernar, on the western. As thus seen
Argo certainly suggests no resemblance to a ship, unless the
imagination rises to the thought of the stern half of a ship
plunging almost vertically downwards beneath the waves.
But with that idea, and including half the constellation
Canis and the whole of Columba, remembering also the
form of the old-fashioned ships such as Egyptian, Greek, and
Roman carvings show them, we have about as fine a star-
drawn picture of a foundering ship as could well be expected.
It adds to the interest with which we thus contemplate the
conception of very ancient imaginations, indeed, to consider
that the great star-ship thus seen in our days so strangely
situated was like a ship drawn stern foremost into harbour
(that is, only slightly slanted) in the days of Eudoxus and
Aratus. The Great Ship was on an even keel, and the whole
of it — from its poop, where we now see the Greater Dog, to
its bows, where we now see the Centaur — was well above the
horizon of the Great Pvramid and Babylon — nay, of Athens
and of Rome — fifty-two or fifty-three centuries ago, when the
Great Pyramid was built.

At the equator the south pole rises above the horizon —
we cannot say it comes into view, for it is not marked by
any conspicuous star. At this time the Southern Cross,
Crux, is rising into view in the south-east, but not in that
position which suggests the idea of a cross ; indeed a
traveller who had reached the equator at the season con-e-
sponding to Map II., and only observed the heavens dui-ing
the hours before midnight as he travelled south, could not
at all have recognised the cross-like appearance of this
small constellation ; nor could he recognise it afterwards.
The Southern Cross, paradoxically enough, is only properly

* It should be noticed that equal distances aloDs: the horizon are
represented by equal distances along E o w. Moreover, those star-
groups to which we direct chief attention in this use of the map, viz.,
tliose low down cowards the south (near O therefore) are very little
distorted. It is near the circumference of all these maps that the
chief distortion, resulting from showing a hemisphere in a circular
map, comes in. AVe have a fair picture of the horizon constellations
Canis, Orion, Lt'pus, Columba, and Eridaiuis, in the second map of
our series. In this sense the maps of the present series will form a
useful supplement to the maps of my Star Primer, as those in like
manner will form to these ; seeing that the constellations near the
horizon are distorted in one set (as if stretched out parallel to the
horizon) and undistorted in the other, and vice versa. Note further
that the maps published each month serve as well (though for
different hours) for England, where they appear at once as for
southern places, which they only reach two months or so later.

36

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

seen as a cross in the northern hemisphere. This we shall
see more clearly in studying later maps.

Passing ftirther south still, our traveller finds the south
pole risino', the north having now passed out of view. The
pole star — I mean our northern jiole star — cannot be seen
further south than latitude ] ^ 50', and then only through
the refractive action of the air. and when the yiole star is

is no conspicuous star close by the pole. If the night is
very clear and dark, however, the traveller will be able to
detect, close by the south point of the horizon, determined
as I have just indicated, three small stars in a row. These
are very close to the true pole, and will be seen to occupy
the same region all through the night, only altering in po.si-
tion, like the hand of a small dial set just above the

The XiGHT Skies ix tub .soiihern- Hcmisphere (Lat. 46° to 24° S ) and the Southern Skies in England
(Upper Half of Map only).— For Index Map see opposite page.

at its greatest distance above the pole as seen in northern
latitudes. In February, for a short time after sunset, the
traveller when a degree or so south of the equator can see
the pole star above a sea horizon, marking almost exactly
the north point of the horizon. The point of the horizon
.almost exactly opposite is at this time about a degree and a
half below the true south pole of the heavens. But there

southern horizon. It is as well to identify these small stars
at this favourable time, when the observer, being a degree
or so south of the equator, sees them close to the horizon.
Later the observer may only be able to detect them with
some difficulty.

Travelling farther south the south pole rises higher and
higher, until, when in latitude 38° south, the stellar skies

December 1, 1886.]

• KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

present the exact scene indicated in Map II., at the times
mentioned underneath it. In anv latitude between 3(1^ and
46° south the map will serve very nell for the identification of
the principal star groups. As an illustration of this range
in the latitudes over which such maps can be used, I may

instead of this wide range of 28^ I would suggest only a
range of about 16° — viz., from 30^ to i6^ (north or south
respectively). And, of course, the nearer the latitude of a
place is to 3S= the more correct the present series of maps
will be found.

The Night Skies in the Southeun He.mispheke (Lat. 46" to 24° S.) and the Sovtuern Skies in England

(Upper Half of Map only) :—

1 o'clock morn, Dec. 7
12.30 o'clock, Dec. 1.5
Midnight, Dec. 23

11.30 ni?ht, Dec. 30

11 o'clock, Jan. 7
10.30 „ Jan. 14
10 „ Jan. 22
9.30 „ Jan. 29

9 o' lock, Feb. 6

8.30 „ Feb. 14

8 „ Feb. 21

7.30 „ Mav 1

mention that the maps of my " Star Primer," constructed
specially for the altitude of the middle of England, have
been used in America as far south as latitude 38^. Maps
constructed for latitude 38° north or south, might with
equal projjriety be used for latitude 52° (north or south
respectively), or for latitude 21° (north or south) ; but

USE OF MAP ir. IX SOUTHERX LiTITUDES.
When using the map in the latitudes for which it is
specially intended the student is to remember that the rim
of the map represents the horizon, while the centre marks
the point overhead. Thus, to determine what constellations
lie towards any point of the horizon, the student is to bring

38

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

the corresponding part of the map's circumference below
the centre O, and to consider only those groups which he
finds lying between O and that part of the circumference.

Thus, towards the south he sees Faro the Peacock ; low
down, and upside down, half of the Altar, Ara, being
visible slightly to the east of south, and in a similarly
inverted position. Above the altar, and eastwards of it,
lies I'riaiiguhtm the Triangle (the northern constellation
similarly named shows two triangles, and may be con-
veniently called the Triangles or Trinnqtih, ns in both my
iJbrarj' and School Star Atlases.)

In the soutli-east is a singularly intei'esting region of the
heavens. Low down is Centaurus, the Centaur, the bi'ight
star Alpha in which is celebrated as the nearest star (so far
as is known) in the heavens. It lies at a distance of only
about twenty millions of millions of miles from the solar
system ; a light journey of about three and a half years.
(J nix, the Southern Cross, occupies the place where formerly
were the Centaur's hind feet — a change which has injured
the latter constellation, without giving the southern skies a
constellation in the least I'essmbling a cross, except \\hen so
high above the horizon that the suggestion of an upright
cross is lost.

In the south-eastern quadrant the Milky Way is full of
strange features : the great Coalsack, a sharply -defined semi-
circular outline near \ Cnitauri, and the great fan shaped
expansions in Argo, between which is a broad dark space.
But still more remarkable than the Milky Way here, or
than the Jfaf/eUauic Clouds seen high in the south, is the
immense starless tract running between IlyJra and the
Milky Way. Indeed, although the groups forming C'orvus
the Crow, and Crater the Cup, here come close up to Hydra,
of which doubtless they originallj' formed a part, the star-
less region farther northwards is only broken (so far as
conspicuous stars are concerned) by the solitary star
Alphard (n Hydr<i'), over the whole space between Argo,
Canis, and Orion along one side, and Leo, Cancer, and
Canis Minor on the other. Even Cancer contains so few
bright stars that it used to be known as the dark sign, and
beyond Cancer northwards the starless sjiace expands over
Liyn.r and Camelopardas (unseen in the southern skies).

In the north-western quadrant we find Taurus, Aries, Cetiis,
and Eridrtnus, in the places shown in the map ; and in the
north-western quadrant the rest of Kridanus, Hydriis (the
Water Serpent), P/ia'ni.r, Gru3, and a pai-t of Fiscis, the
Southern Fish, with the bright stiLV FomaUimif (and Fisois).

NOTES ON AMERICANISMS.

By Richard A. Peoctoe.

Far's-I-kno\V, which Bartlett for unknown reasons writes
" Farzino," is an abbreviation of " as far as I know," often
beard in New England and New York. Common enough in
England.

Favoured. Bartlett wildly remarks that the use of this
word as applied to the face, once common in England, isnow
obsolete, giving as examples of the old English, use of the
expression Shakespeare's " A good favour you have, but that
you have a hanging look," and from the Spectator the
sentence, " The porter owned that the gentleman favoured
his master," meaning that he resembled him. These are
examples of two entirely distinct way.s of using the word ;
but neither one nor the other is obsolete. The former, as
when we say the man is ill favoured, or well-favoured, is not
only not obsolete but is in use by persons of culture and
.admitted into the best dictionaries ; it shows, so far as I can
judge, no sigus of going out of favour. Tliere is, however.

an extension of the usage which I believe to be seldom heard
out of America, viz., in such expressions as loiajfavourcd,
square favoiired, or the like, meaning that the face is longer
square, or so forth. The other use of the word is common in
England, but not admissible in literature oi- in the conversa-
tion of educated persons. Thus you will hear almost any-
where in England the remark, " So and so favours his
father," meaning that he looks like his father in the face. I
remember hearing the expression for the first time, and being-
very much perplexed by it, when I was a small boy; a nurse
who had left my mother's service some time called one daj'
with a bab}', which she showed with some pride to her
former mistress. Presently she remarked, " I think he
f^ivours Master Richard," which astonished me, as I had seen
no marks of any special favour towards me — on the contrary,
he had howled obtrusively at my approach ; but since then I
have heard the expression dozens of times among the poorer'
classes. In Walker's dictionary we find this use of the verb
to favour, as well as the Shakespear-ian use of the noun
" fiwour " for the features, presented without any suggestion
of obsoleteness or even of obsolescence.

Fearful, used as we use " awful," fearful big, fearful
ugly, and so forth, seems appropriately enough to be peculiar
to the Quaker State Pennsylvania.

Feaze, same as feexe, phee~e. Bartlett seems quite in the
dark about this good old English word, which he derives
from the French fdcher, to vex. It was used formerly in
the same sense as tease, as in teasing wool, but more pai'ticu-
larly applied to curry-combing. It has no connection what-
ever yi\i\i fdcher. " I'll jjheese you in faith," says C'hi'isto-
phero Sly, meaning that he will vex the worthy hostess by
staying like teasel in wool. In America feaze, feeze, and
plieese are still used not only in speech but in writing.
" When a man's in a feeze there's no more sleep that hitch,"
says Sam Slick.

Federal Currency. The legal currency of the United
States.

Feed, for grass, as " tall feed " for " high grass."

Feel, short for feel inclined, is used in America, where
in England people are more apt to say, "feel like doing."
" I don't feel to work to-day " would correspond with our
English colloquialism, '• I don't feel like working."

Feeze, see " Fease."

Fellow, short for " Black Fellow," is Southern. " Fellow,"
or " feller " for sweetheart is leather absurdly given by
Bartlett as .an Americanism. It would be difficult to say
whether it is move commonly heard in that sense in America
or in the old countrj'.

Fellowship, To. " To fellowship with " is one of the
real Americanisms which the Saturday Review would like
to see alone in such a list as this. It is used chiefly in reli-
gious newspapers (the vulgarity of which in America has
become a by word), to indicate communion in religious doc-
trine and discipline. The barbarism assumes two forms :
thus a Baptist (let us say) may refuse " to fellowship " with
a Methodist, or refuse " tofellow.ship " him, or vice versa.

Fesiale. Bartlett complacently discusses the use of this
word for " woman " as an Americanism. Would that it
were the invention of our Transatlantic cousins ; but, alas !
the vulgarism is but too obtrusiveh' English to be thus got rid
of. It is not only English, but the Queen's English, not in
the vulgar use of that absurd expression (absurd seeing that
the Queen's C4erman is fifty per cent, better than her English),
but literall}' ; for did not the Queen write to the Maj'or of
Birmingham, expressing her " horror that one of her subjects
— a female — should have been sacrificed," ifec, the .sacrificed
"subject" not being a cow or a female i-etriever, as might
be imagined, but a woman who had fallen from a rope
on which .she had tried to walk blindfolded, and in a

December 1, 1886.]

♦ KNO^AT'LEDGE ♦

39

sack. Our Mrs. Browns are rather fond of applying the
term to themselves — though I am not aware that they ever,
as " Arthur Sketchley's " Mrs. Brown is made to do, call
themselves " fieldmales." If you speak of a housekeeper as
a "woman," even addressing her as "my good woman,"
she will be ready to tear your eyes out; but if you speak of
her as a " female " she is rather Mattered than otherwise.
Why "a male" has not yet come to be regarded as an appro-
priate way of desciibing a man is not clear. Possibly we
shall leain the reason when we find out why a woman may
be called simply " a petticoat," while no one ever yet thought
of making " a pair of breeches " do duty for a man.

Fex, To. It is interesting to learn that this word is still
used by American boys, as by boys in England. Fain we
used to pronounce it at school. In London, "fain larks " is
synonymous with "stow larks," that is " no tricks, I entreat
of you." Probably "fen " is nearer the original sound, the
word having piobably been " fend " in the sense of " keep
oflF," " avoid."

Fesce. To be " on the fence " cori'esponds in America to
being " Jack-o'-both-sides " in Euglisli. A man who tries to
I'un with the hare and hunt with the hounds is " on the
fence " — " impartially ready," as Lowell puts it —

"... to jump either side,
And make the first use of a turn of the tide."

A man on the fence is apt, however, to give offence to both
sides, instead of pleasing both as he fondly hopes to du.

OUR PUZZLES.

N fig. 1, we have the solution of my new and
improved puzzle (No. X.) about nineteen trees,
according to which they are to be arranged,
not in niiif but in ten rows, five to each row.

In fig. 2, we have the solution of my im-
proved form (Puzzle XI.) of the puzzle about
cords and pegs, according to which sis cords
(all equal in length, if it be preferred to add that condition)
are to be so fastened to nine pegs as to inclose (1) six
triangular spaces all equal and similar, (2) three quad-

Fig l " Fig. 2

Showing Nineteen Tkees Showing Six equal Cords,
IN Ten Kows, Five in fastened to Nine Pegs,

Each. and inclosing Ten Spaces

Symmetrically.

rangular spaces axially symmetrical, and (3) one hexagonal
space having equal sides and three axes of symmetry.

Puzzle XII. When I turned to the investigation of this
puzzle, I found that it was not the same as ilogul's Puzzle
in Vol. 1. (rather ridiculously indexed The Mogul's Puzzle),
but slightly more difficult because more general.
It may be presented in two forms ; thus : —
Given a rectangular carpet, to divide it by the fewest cuts
into pieces which shall cover

1. An equal given rectangular .area, or

2. An equal rectangular area of given shape.

Of course problem 2 involves the solution of problem 1,
which was Puzzle XII. as given ; but it is well to note
that this, the more general form, may be dealt with

directly : by which I mean that instead of first finding out
by geometry the sides of the rectangle fulfilling the con-
ditions in 2, and then solving the puzzle for that rectangle,
we may employ a construction which, in solving the puzzle,
will give us the rectangle both in .shape and size.

Two solutions of the second form of the problem are
illustrated in figs. 3 and 4, the preliminary construction

being only given in one case. The given rectangle is abcd,
and the rectangle aesd, cut ofl' from the length of ac, repre-
sents the shape of the rectangle to be covered by sections
of ad, ae corresponding to the shorter side. On ab the
semicircle afb is drawn, ec produced to meet it in r, and
AF and FB, cutting DC in J and h, are drawn ; then af is one

T>g,4

side of the required rectangle, and bh is the length of the
other. Completing the rectangle fk, we get the remaining
cutting line, nl, in the case illustrated by fig. 3. In the
other case, fb lies wholly above ab; but ak, parallel to fb.

Fig.

cuts DC in K, giving ak, the other side of the required
rectangle, which we complete by drawing kl. Then to
complete the cutting lines we have to take ek equal to lb,
HK equal to nb, and join he.

The numerals in both figures show how the pieces of
rectangle AC fit upon rectangle al.

40

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

Tbere result mauy varieties of cutting, according to the Puzzle XIV. Shoir the same hij a method akin In the

shape of the given and required rectangles. Figures •"), G, second.

and 7 (Mogul's), show some of the varieties for the first
method {hi, in tig. 5, is equal to./'/(. Where either rectangle
is very long, more equidistant thwart cut.s parallel to .\F',

or qf, will have to be made). Similar diversities will readUy
be dealt with in the case of the second method.

PUZZLES FOR THIS MONTH.
Puzzle XIII. Sho^r hoic a jmmllelogram, «« abcd, fiy. 8,
may be divided by the fevest nvmber of lines so that the

Fig 8

Vig-!

Fir 10

pieces may Jit another par(dklo(/ram, ofkl, Jii/. 9, having
angle at a, equal to awjk at A, by a method akin to the first
described above.

Puzzle XV. Divide abcd, fig. 8. into three pieces so as
to cover the parallelogram afkl,fiy. 10.

THE WHIST-PLAYERS' PUZZLES.

(See KxowLEDt:E for October and November.)

T is required to arrange sixteen persons to play
whist on Jive days, each day retainitig their
jilaces unchanged throughout, so that no two
shall tv'ice sit at the same table. I take first
the subordinate puzzle : — To arranye twelve
persons to play whist on five days — single
dnvimy on four days, full whist only on the
remaining day — no tioo sitting twice at the same table.
The direct method of solution is similar to that employed
for the fifteen school-gii-ls. It would take little time to
run thiough the combinations, because wo might at once
set out three combinations of four each, the single day of
full whist, and these limit us effectively in making out
the sixteen combinations of three each out of which the
four days of single dummy are to be provided for.
But the simplest way of proceeding is as follows : —
Write after a four paiis of letters, and one triplet, in
alphabetical sequence, giving the first table of the following
set : —

Table I. Table II. Table III. Table IV. Table V.

A B C

A D E

A F G

B E J

C D J

D G L

A 11 I

B D K n

B G K

(■ F K

E H K

A J K L

C E G I

B I I.

C H L

F I J

To make the other sets of four take the two columns
headed b and c in the first table, getting the second table.
Get three sets beginning with b by taking e, o, and i from
the right-hand vertical column of Table I. with j, k, and l
of the lowest row ; and get three sets beginning with c in like
manner. These form Tables III. and IV. Lastly, get three
more combinations by taking d, e, and f, each with the only
pair of the letters g, h, i, j, k, l, remaining available — getting
Table V.

From these sets we obtain quite easily the following
solution : —

1st day. 2nd day. 3rd day. 4th day. 5th day.

ABC

A D E

A F G

A H I

D 1 K

B G K

B I L

B E J

A J K L

E F L

<■ H L

C D J

C F K

B D F H

G n J

F I J

E H K

D G L

C E G I

Take now the problem of the sixteen. We have fii-st to
get twenty combinations of four, no two in any of which
will be twice in the same set. To do this we begin with
Table I. belo\i', written out in the usual way : —

Table I.

Table II.

Table m.

Table IV.

Table V.

A

BCD

B F. H K

C E L N

D E 0 I

A

E F G

A

HIJ

B F N J

C F I M

D F K P

E P J M

A

K L SI

BOOM

C G HP

D G L J

FH L 0

A

NOP

BLIP

C K 0 J

D H N M

G K N I

We deal with the
(lined off in Table I
arrangements, just as
to the 2nd, ord, 4th,

twelve lettors e f g . . . to p

), so as to form from them four

the four arrangements belonging

and 5 th days above are formed

December 1, 1886.]

♦ KNO>A^LEDGE ♦

41

fi-om the arrangement belonging to the 1st clay. (We
may either do this independently, or, in the arrange-
ments just obtained for five days, we may write throughout
E for A, F for B, G for c, h for d, i remains I, J for K, and so
on ; that is, for each letter in the 1st day's arrangement,
write the letter in the corresponding part of the portion of
Table I. lined off.) We thus get four arrangements to be
taken with u (those corresponding to the 2nd day's arrange-
ment in the former problem, giving Table II. ; four to be
taken with c (those corresponding to the 3rd day's arrange-
ment), giving Table III. ; and four to be taken witho (those
corresponding to the -ith day's arrangement), giving
Table IV. ; while there remain three sets of four which
form Table V., and complete the required 20 combinations
of four letters in which no two letters appear twice
together.

We now have to work these 20 combinations together to
give us the arrangements for our five days' jjlay. We have
very little trouble in obtaining the following result : —

l.st day.

2nd d.ay.

3rd day.

4th day.

6th day

A BC D

A E F O

A H I J

A K L M

A N 0 P

E P J M

B I. I P

B G 0 J[

B F N J

1! E H K

F HLO

f K 0 J

C E L N

C G H P

(■ F I H

(; K N I

D H N M

D F K P

D E 0 I

D Ci L J

# 0 Si Si I p*

By Richard A. Proctor.

I SHOULD have thought that if anything could be clear
from my reniaiks on the Satunlay Reviev) critique of my
" Notes on Americanisms," it would be that I remained in
doubt as to its authorship. But as I find from letters
which have been addressed to me on the subject, that I
quite obviously suppose A wrote it, as obviously suppose 13
wrote it, and not less obviously attribute it to c, it is
evident I must be mistaken. At the outset I stated in so
mnny words that my critic might be one I had condemned
with deserved severity for some offence of his, yet a and n,
whom I never have condemned severely or mildly, deservedly
or otherwise, believe that I certainly considered each of
them (severally) to be the author. I stated with equal
distinctness that my critic might be one who had received
at my hands nothing but kindness, and a and c, to whom I
am under personal obligation for kindness received, consider
I iimst mean them, severally and individually. I .spoke of
envy as having possibly moved the author ; j-et b and c,
who have assuredly no reason to envy me, and whose work
I admire with a feeling not indeed envious, but implying a
clear perception that they severally are able to do well what
I wi.sh vainly I were able to do at all,* take my remarks to
themselves.

* * *

Then again, I collect more meo (or rather in the usual
.scientific way) all the points of evidence I can recognise,
noting them en passant as points to be considered when — •
hereafter — I endeavour to form an opinion as to the author-
ship of the critique ; and A, b, and c, to each of whom some
of those iioints seem to correspond, consider that I must
have already formed my opinion and that it must point to
them individually and severally ! I express a certain
degree of confidence as to who baa certainly not written the
article, or as to circumstances which must probably not be

* Qui invidet minor est, says the Cadogan motto, justly ; but it
does not necessarily follow that Qui minor est invideat.

understood precisely as they seem ; and it is incontinently
assumed, equally by A, by n, and by c, that such negative
inferences imply positive conclusions :

*- * *

I WRITE these lines at a fortnight's postal distance from
London, and therefore it will be understood that I have not
seen the November number of Knowledge. I am told,
however, that one of the most esteemed of all those con-
tributors who have put me under obligation by writing
articles for Knowledge, one in whom I have such full
confidence that the printers have standing instructions to
put whatever he may write for us in type forthwith, has
thought it necessary to explain in Knowledge that he is
not the .author of the critique. I hope this is not so, or
that he has changed his mind in the interim. Being in
doubt on this point, I write necessarily under somewhat
inconvenient conditions. But I can do no harm by saying
that though some of the points of evidence noted in my
remaiks may correspond with him, nay with him alone,
they are not such points as would determine the authorship,
and are flatly contradicted by points far more directly and
obviously decisive. A man might communicate from some
distant place casual notes on errors I may have made (or
which I seem to have made) without any unfriendly feeling,
and without any idea that such notes were to be used in a
spiteful or unfair manner ; yet evidence suggesting that the
idea of certain criticisms had come from such a place, would
have to be considered in arriving at a conclusion. The
same man might have started the first idea of a ijuaint jest
without being at all responsible for its spiteful application
by someone else nearer headquarters. The evidence appa-
rently referred to as pointing to him, may — and in this ca.se
must — point to someone else, and yet might be of use as
indicating some one likely to have come aci'oss ideas which
had been thus quite innocently advanced.

* * *
There should, however, in this case have been enough to
show that, whatever indirect influence I might rightly or,
perhaps, quite wrongly have attributed to that friend at a
distance, 1 could not have attributed the critique to his pen.
His style is unmistakable; I believe no one living could
imitate it effectively ; the style of the critique is altogether
dift'erent as well as altogether inferior. His tone is uniformly
and emphatically manly ; the tone of the critique is not even
mannish, but, as I definitel}' pointed out, womanish. He
certainly could not have fallen into one out of ten of the
mistakes which crowd the Saturday Review "Notes on
Americanisms." Moreover, it is cle.ar that if my remarks
were all intended to apply to one person, instead of being
conditionally applied to at least four (to this one under such
aud such conditions, to another under others, and so forth),
then I must regard that one person as a false friend, who
has repaid kindness with, injuries. Now I have spoken
above of my friend at a distance, and he will, I trust,
l)ermit me to speak of him as a friend in that sense ; but
the esteem and admiration one may feel for a man whom
one has met but four or five times, would certainly not
justify the suggestion of long and intimate antecedent friend-
ship implied when such an expression as " false friend " is
employed. Only one who has been a close friend for years
can show himself a false friend. Adding to this, the con-
sideration that he has never been in the slightest degi'ee
under obligation to me — but I, on the contrary, to him —
my friend ought not to have considered that I imagined
him to be the writer of the critique, though I may have
imagined (quite erroneously, I now know) that the reviewer
had tipped some of his arrows with metal from my friend's
mind, while I fully recognised that the bow and the arrow,

42

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

and ;ilso the venom in which the aiTOW tips were dipped,
belonged wholly and solely to another.

A CORRESPONDENT calls my attention to the name " Krishna
Jezeus." He says that he has come across the epithet Jezeus
as ajjplied to Krishna in several modern treatises, but it is not
a correct transliteration of anything possible in Sanscrit or
in any of the Dravidian languages of South India. He has
failed to find an}' original authority for the name. Like my
correspondent, I am unable to understand the modern use
of this epithet, which I have used as I found it, supposing
it might bo a form of one of " the thousand names of Krishna "
— with some of which I am not familiar. 1 noticed its
want of resemblance to the better-known names, most of

■which end with the vowels " a,"

and " i,' as Damodara,

Madhava, and Madhuripu, Achyuta, Kes'ava, Govinda,
HrisLikes'a, Trivikrama, Viisudeva, Padnanabbi, &c., &c.
Knowing absolutely nothing as to the real source of the
epithet, but recognising it as an iaipossibility in connection
with any Indian language, I venture the suggestion that it
may have been borrowed from some ancient Latin writing,
in which, because of the close resemblance between the story
of Krishna (the repi-esentative during his life on earth of
Vishnu, the second person of the Indian Trinity) and that of
Christ, Krishna is called Jezeus ; in other words, it may be
a barbarous attempt to find some adjective other than Jesuit
which would represent association with, or resemblance to,
Jesus — so that Krishna Jezeus would signify the Jesus-like
Krishna. But I should say the chances must be heavy
against this guess being correct.

* * *
A CORRESPONDENT at Bristol has addressed to me a rather
remarkable letter, the bearing of which may perhaps be
more obvious to some of my readers here than it is to myself.
He asks (1) whether Shakespeare was not a grander creation
than a myriad suns ? (2) whether the New Testament is
not greater than Shakespeare? and (3), ''as to miracles,"
whether 1 have never heard that warts have been miracu.
lously cured (citing a case in which a clergyman was con-
verted from the errors of his ways (in regard to warts) by
the success of " charms " devised by a drunken and disreput-
able member of his flock). Not in the least knowing what
he (or she) may be aiming at in applying the Socratic method
with these three questions, I draw my bow at a venture in
demanding, by way of reply, (1) whether Euclid was not a
gi'ander creation than the solar system 1 (2) whether a
stained window by Burne Jones is not greater than Homer'!
and (3) as to evolution, whether my correspondent has never
heard that Pat's caubeen has been evolved from the cocked
hat of the seventeenth century 1 I trust this may be of
use to my correspondent, but I cannot tell ; I hope so, I am
sure.

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT asks whether he may, " with a mind
fresh from any preconceived ideas, and therefore unpledged
to any particular theory," suggest that, owing to the greater
mass of the eaiih, the lighter matter, " such as oxygen and
hydrogen," &c., would go to the earth while tlie denser
matter would be all that the moon could collect 1 One may
suggest anything — especially with a mind fresh from any
bewildering study of previous researches and inquiries. But
this particular theoiy, that if two neighbouring bodies of
diflfei'ent mass were gathering up material the larger would
sift out the lighter elements, leaving the smaller to collect the
denser, will really not do.

* * *

I DO not undertake to consider here all such ideas as may
be propounded in letters ; but it seemed to me worth while

to notice that the state of unpledged freshness, which my
correspondent seems to think favourable to the conception
of sound ideas has never yet proved trustworthy. So one
has ever discovered any new truth of importance wlio lias not
carefully mastered pre-existing knov^lcdge of the department
of science to loliicli the truth belongs.

* * *

A REMARKABLE passage from a paper called The Christian
has been sent me for my opinion. It says that though there
was a " fine tone of candid appreciation of the evolutionary
philosophy " at the Birmingham me3ting of the British
Association, " there was a clear divergence from its extreme
conclusions." It proceeds to say of certain remarks uttered
by the President of the Anthi-opological Section, that " they
go far to sustain the language of Sir William Dawson in a
paper publi-shed this year, that the ordinary received
chronology of about four or five thousand years for the post-
diluvian ])eriod, and two thousand years or a little more for
the antediluvian period will exhaust all the time tliat
geology can allow for the possible existence of man." I am
asked what I suppose would be the opinion of science on
this amazing statement, and whether Sir W. Dawson is a
high authority on such matters.

* * *

It would be idle to reason about a statement which flatly
contradicts everything that pala-ontology, biology, anthro-
pology, ethnology, philology, archaeology, and associated
sciences say on the subject of the antiquity of man. No
one, however, who has read what Sir W. Dawson has
written about evolution can wonder at anything he may
have .said "this year" on that particular subject. At
Birmingham, I believe, he kept within his own ground,
and though geologists difler widely from much that he said
about the Atlantic basin, while events closelj' following
knocked incontinently on the head the geological opinions
he had most confidently expressed, his views on matters
.simply geological are alwaj's worth considering. But a man
may be .skilful in certain dei)artments of geology, who
cannot or will not grasp the uipaning of any fkcts outside,
and every one who knows Sir W. Dawson's record must be
well assured that if he .saw directly before him evidence
which would be likely to make the views of Darwin seem
acceptable to him, he would go miles round rather than
continue on his direct way.

* * *

Yet I find it after all difiicult to believe that even Sir W.
Dawson — bigoted though he is in his hatred of Darwinism — •
would have said what the Christian attril)utes to him.
Nobody can know much better than he can (if he will) that
(1) pahi'ontology has proved the existence of man for at
least 100,000 years; (2) biology shows that the race of man
as it exists now could not possibly have arisen from the
in-and-in breeding of the descendants of two persons four or
five thousand ye;irs ago (without a series of miracles
extending over many generations) ; (3) anthropology and
ethnology emphasise this argument by the evidence they
supply as to the varieties existing in the human race and
among diflTerent nations ; (4) philology ennbles us to
recognise periods many times longer than the four or five
thousand years spoken of, as necessary for the development
of the existing types of language ; (.5) arclueology indicates
the existence of races in widely separated parts of the earth,
who were .so numerous (to say nothing of their advance in
civilisation) at a period separated by but a few hundred
years from the time assigned to the flood, that the idea of
their being all descended from two persons within that time
is simply childish ; and (6) history shows us the great
nations of old existing in their millions when, were that

December 1, 1886.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

40
0

account of the origin of the human race correct, there covikl
not have been five thousand persons living all over the fifty
millions of square miles of land surface on our planet. But
it seems idle to talk about matters so well known, respectnig
wliich there has long been but one opinion among all who
are in a position to form an opinion at all.

* * *

The heel of the negro would not have been developed
from straight-heeled ancestors, or the heel of the Caucasian
from ancestors heeled like the negro, or the two forms
severally developed from ancestors with any intermediate
degree of backward curvature in the heel, in ten times the
period named by the Cliris/ian.

* *■ *

The Eev. Mr. Talmage, whose singularly unpleasant
jireaching (in which ulcers and sores are the favourite forms
of imagery) seems to find favour in America, has finally
found an argument for the overthrow of what he has
characteristicallv called the " putrid " theory of evolution.
" The survival "of the fittest," be says. " Yes, the fittest
alwavs survives, does it not] Guiteau, the murderer, sur-
vived Garfield, our good President, for several months. Of
coui-se, Guiteau must have been the fitter of the two. So,
at any rate, say Darwin and Huxley and Spencer, for they
tell us the fittest survive."

* * *

The same earnest preacher (terms 500 dols. per sermon)
deems it not blasphemous to rebuke blasphemy thus: —
" A wretch half maddened by the delirium of drink raved
against God the other day "in the fields ; rebuked by his
neighbours he grew bolder in his denunciations, proclaiming
that if God appeared there to punish him, he, the wretched
drunkard that be w;is, would whip the Almighty. Then
was God's wrath aroused against that man. Smoke came
from his mouth. Those who had heard him blaspheme drew
near to watch him breathing out fearful flames, and shriek-
ing in the agony justly inflicted by an angry God. The
blasphemer perished, slain with fire by the God he had
otiended." Of course, no such event as this really happened.
Mr. Talmage is not a truthful man. But if a man had died
under such circumstances, would it not be as blasphemous
to impute the manner of his death to an allwise and infinite
Being, as it would be to impute to God's special will the
crime of some murderer, or the misconduct of this poor
wretch himself] If we should think meanly of a man who,
beinf insulti^d by a helpless drunkard, should beat him into
the gutter, what are we to think of a man who attributes to
God what wc should thus despise in a man ?

* * *

The v-orld may be divided, so far as ethical religion is
concerned, into three great classes : —

First, those who think " This is m;/ duty ; "
Sicomlhj, tho.se who say " This seems our duty ; " and
Thirdly, those who teach " This is i/our duty."
Usually the first class do what they think their duty : the
second, with a wider sense of duty, try to fulfil it ; the third
are apt to be so intent on the inquiry whether others do
their duty as to have little inclination left for attending to
duty themselves. MftUo iulissimus ibis ; the middle cla.ss
of the three is the best, though much may be said for the
first. Distrust the third.

* * *
I FEAR the Bishop of Carlisle will be attacked in lively
fashion for bis article in the Conteniporar;/ Bfvieir, inv.hic\i
he adopts much the same view of the connection between
the seven davs of the week and the seven planets as I have
indicated in "my articles on " The Unknowable." Still less

will it be liked that he should advance as possible what
science has long since recognised as certain, that the Genesis
cosmoson-.- is but a speculation, and as certain what science
has long since recognised as obvious, that it has no scientific
value. But he falls into error in describing the interval between
full moono as 28 davs, and therefore asserting that there
are more nearlv 13 t"han 12 lunar months in a year. There
are 29o4 days"in a lunar month, and 12 such months cover
35-1-.5 days.

* * *

From a clerical correspondent I have received a letter
courteously inviting me to say what I believe in regard to
the " Josephus question." " You should go on," he says,
" to tell us what you believe to be a correct account, so that
we may judge whether we are not thereby landed in greater
diflScukies than meet us in accepting the orthodox account."
Here the word orthodox manifestly bears only its conven-
tional meaning, for orthodox used in its correct meaning
would involve a. pditio principii.

* * *

I ORiGix.\LLY presented the '-Josephus question" as an
" historicfl puzzle," and, unlike the puzzles whicli are now
appearing monthly in these columns, it is not one to which
1 have undertaken to give a solution. If I had I might
have found myself much worse " put to it " than I did
when coming to the problem of the sixteen whist-players
who were to have five sittings without any two ever being
at the same table ; I found I could not get a solution quite
so quickly as I had expected. I felt sure when I asked
that question that there must be a solution, and I supposed
there would be no difficulty in finding it ; but it took me
longer than I cared for -."and only the sense of duty to
readers, who might have failed, and who would expect the
propounder of t1ie puzzle to solve it for them, caused me to
work the puzzle out. The Josephus puzzle, or rather the
general puzzle, of which that particular perplexity is a part,
might more aptly be compared, perhaps, to such a puzzle as
the following, which / hdieve has a solution, but what that
solution may be I by no means promise to tell — for a most
excellent reason : —

A ,

•

-

1

L J

r

,,

[ "

r

11--

1 ,
1

-

'

: B

The Bo-ure represent; the plan of a prison with intercommunicating
cells (bless the Latin) : a prisoner in A is offered his freedom if
he can make his way to B after passing once, and once only, through
all the 36 cells. How is he to do it ?

*- * *

T HAVE in"mis matter of the historical and theological
puzzle most carefully limited my statements to matters of
fact, avoiding all ex'pression of opinion. Such facts :is are
certain and admitted I have stated as such ; where there is
doubt I have indicated the nature of the doubts. [ have
indicated no inferences. If any consider that the J(icts
point very definitely in a certain direction m which they
would rather not look, that highly illogical (but very

44

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

common) state of mind is a plienomenou which interests me
as a student of science, and of human nature as a depart-
ment of science ; but I am no more responsible for such
disquiet than I am for the inherited mental or moral
f|ualities from which it takes its rise. If, on the other
hand, others consider that the facts have no such signi-
ficance, I have asserted nothing to the contrary. Facts can
always be studied with advantage by lovers of knowledge
(with a small " k ") : when they are rightly interpreted they
tend to the increase of Wisdom (with a capital W) : but
whether for the moment they can be rightly interpreted or
not, they cannot safely be neglected.
* * *

I TBOPosE to sum up in the nest number matters of fact
bearing on this question — noting that in various parts of
the last volume of Knowledge these points have been
dealt with in detail, and, so far as I know, scarce any of
tliem have been regarded as open to doubt, let their inter-
pretation be what it may.

Life Histories of Plants. By Prof. D. McAlpixe. (Swan
Sonnenschein it Co.) — This is an extremely interesting book,
the most important section of which, that dealing with the
comparison of plants and animals on a physiological basis,
deserves careful study. The author, wisely following the
newer and sounder methods, lays stress upon the subordina-
tion of form to function, treating of the organism as a
living thing whose work determines the mechanism. For
the organ was made for it — not it for the organ. Did space
permit, we should like to quote the author's admirable
remarks on this matter, but w-e shall render both him and
our readers kindlier service by urging the perusal of the
book itself. The diagrams, especially that on p. 23, are
even more helpful to clearer understanding of the text than
the woodcuts.

Our Island Continent : a Naturalist's Holiday in Aus-
tralia. By Dr. J. E. Taylor. (S. P. C. K.)— In this little
book the author, who is well known as a writer of agi-eeable
books on botanical and kindred subjects, narrates his impres-
sions of a fii-st visit to a land in which, as he happily puts it,
the naturalist who is also a geologist may feel himself living
in the Secondary Epoch, certain typical life-forms of which
flourish there to this day. The geological history of Australia
is admirably and clearh' summarised, but when dealing with
the fauna of the country we are surprised to find Dr. Taylor
betraying ignorance of ]Mr. Caldwell's discoveries concerning
the earliest mammalian forms iu spsaking of the marsupials
as " the first mammals to be created.' We suppose, apart
from the error in this statement, that the form of its pre-
sentment is a concession to the weaker brethren of North-
umberland Avenue, who still cling to the old notion of the
immutability of species.

Tlte Literature of Local Institutions. By G. L. Gomme.
(Elliot Stock.) — The able and indefatigable Director of the
Folk-Lore Society has made the subject to which this book
is a convenient introduction his special study, and now that
the reform and expansion of local government are imminent,
he does good service in enlightening us concerning the origin
and growth of the autonomous bodies which pulsrit?d with
vigorous life in shire and hundred and township, and which
have made England the nursing-mother of free institutions
and the successful coloniser alike in torrid and temperate
zones. We advise all persons interested in municipal govern-
ment to buv Mr. Gomme's work.

Horticultural Buildings. By F. A. Fawkes. New Edi-
tion. (London : Swan Sonnenschein, Le Bas, ife Lowrey.
1886.) — The possessor of a garden must suffer woefully,
either from lack of enthusiasm or from impecuniosity, who
is content to do without "glass" in some form, however
humble, in it. To anj'one and everyone who may be
desirous of possessing so necessary an adjunct, be it in the
form of the humble garden-frame or of the lordly conser\a-
tory, Mr. Fawkes' book will be found a perfect mine of
information. Not only does he tell the incipient horti-
culturist what to do, but also why to do it, theory and
practice running pari passu throughout the volume. To
such an extent is this carried that the work opens with a
description of the cause of the seasons and a detailed
account of the various angles to be adopted for the " pitch "
of greenhouse roofs in different latitudes, so as to obtain the
maximum heating effect from the sun's rays. The question
of iron f. wooden houses is thoroughly discussed, and the
whole of the leading existing systems of glazing equally
thoroughly described. The subject of heating, too — that
hete noire of the beginner — is exhaustively examined and
explained. In fact, it is not too much to say that anyone
previously ignorant of the subject might, after a careful
))erusal and mastery of the treatise before us, confidently
design and supervise the erection of any forcing-frame,
greenhouse, w.all-tree protector, or conservatory ever likely
to be required by the overwhelming proportion of those into
whose hands it is likely to fall. There is also a chapter on
meteorology and meteorological instruments ; another on
the law in connection with gardening erections, and so on.
In fine, we may say, shortly, that no gardening library,
countrj' or suburban, can be held to be complete which does
not contain Mr. Fawkes' excellent and painstaking volume.
We may add that it is profusely illustrated.

Plane and Spherical I'rigonometry. In Three Parts. By
H. B. Goodwin, M.A. (London : Longmans, Green, & Co.
1886.) — The work before us is a compilation, made under
the sanction of the Lords of the Admiralty, for the use of the
junior officers of the Eoyal Navy, and is designed to super-
sede the somewhat heterogeneous collection of text-books
hitherto in <ise in that branch of the .service. From his
vei-y considerable experience as a naval instructor Mr.
Goodwin has doubtless not adopted the arrangement which
characterises tlie present work without the most careful
consideration of its applicability to the pin-poses for which
it is especially designed. It seems, however, to us to suffer
under the defect of all recent books on trigonometry — we
mean that of treating its subject in too abstract a manner
fur the very beginner. We cannot help feeling that the
modern fashion of dealing with the trigonometrical ratios,

j the defining sine and cosine in a particular way, and de.
riving all the rest fiom them, is scarcely the way to give the

j incipient student an intelligent idea of what he is endeavour-
ing to master. The old-world reference to the circle, with
its visible connection with the angular functions, certainly
does show to what and of what certain lines are tangent
and secant, Ac, ikc, as the case may be ; and this idea once
grasped, subsequent study is made much smoother and
easier. It also seems to us that trigonometrical analysis
generally is introduced full early into the work under review,
though this mode may possibly have been adopted from
practical experience of its utility. Our remarks refer rather
to the manner in which our author has arr.xnged his mate-
rial than to that material itself, and must be held to apply
strictly to the first division of the book, that on plane trigo-
nometry ; the second part — that on spherical trigonometry —
is excellent both in matter and manner ; while the con-
cluding or practical section may be mentioned with equal
praise. In fact, for fulness, lucidity, and appositeness, as

December 1, 1886.]

KNOWLEDGE

45

far as the large mass of examples is coaoemed, this leaves
nothing whatever to be desii'ed. In addition to the short
list of errata ou a slip inserted in the volume, we may note
that on pp. 10, 26, and elsewhere the lines dividing the
numerators and denominators of fractions have slipped out ;
that on p. 71 the log. of -00527 is printed as 3-721811,
which should, of course, be 3-721811 ; and that in example
20 on p. 221 " declination" appears where latitude is ob-
viously intended. Such microscap'c blemishes as these,
however, can scarcely be held to detract from the value of
a book which may be confidently recommended to all who
desire to master the application of trigonometry to nautical
astronomy and terrestrial surveying.

Liste Generalf, des Obsarvaloires et des Astronomes, des
Societes et des Revuis Asironoinii/ues. Par A. Lancaster.
(Brussels: R Hayez. 188G.)— This is intended as a kind
of directory of all persons and institutions connected mediately
or immediately with astronomy, but it seems to us to be
susceptible of considerable improvement. Names of abso-
lutely luiknown men have crept in, together with those of
dead ones (such as IMr. C. E. Burton and Mr. E. C.
Carrington) of more eminence; while, in the list of instru-
ment makers, Simms is omitted altogether ! On page 92
occurs the sole note appended to any name in the list, and,
with reference to the one which does appear there, we must
say that unless it was inserted by the request and with
the sanction of the gentleman to whose name it is attached,
(which we find it impossible to believe), we can only think
that M. Lancaster has been guilty of a piece of very gross
impertinence indeed.

T/ie Enjllsh Illuifnifed Magcaiae, 188G. (Macaiillan
&, Co.) — There is no falling off either in the illustrations or
letterpress of this excellent serial, which, with its four com-
plete novels, one of which is from the vigorous pen of Mr.
Christie Murray, and another from the delicate pen of Miss
Veley, and its miscellaneous papers, makes well-nigh the
welcomest, certainly the cheapest, gift-book of the year.
Creditable to the taste and judgment of its conductors is
the prominence given to insular and rural subjects, with
their beautiful woodcuts of our old seaports, and of com-
mons which are happily safe from the land-grabber.

Merciful or Merciless, by Stackpool E. O'Dell (London :
T. Fisher Unwin, 1886), is a novel which should be read by
all those who are inclined to take a desponding view as re-
gards the future life. The book is entirely directed against
the belief in everlasting jjunishment after death ; but its
strong appeals, both to the feelings and to the logical faculty,
are so skilfulh' interwoven with the very interesting plot and
with a variety of incidents that no odium whatever can be
attached to it as what " Ouida " calls " that misguided thing,
a novel with a purpose." The hero, George Graystone,
having been overtaken by a storm when out at sea with his
little companion, Florence Harper, is separated from her
and picked up by a passing vessel, leaving her and all his
friends in Daffydale, a village near Ventuor, to mourn him
as drowned. This incident introduces the theme of the book,
as Mrs. Harper believes that the boy's soul has been lost,
owing to his want of faith in the doctrine as to salvation
preached by her favourite minister, Mr. Heron. Florence,
however, breaks away from this gloomy creed, unwilling to
believe that a merciful God can doom any soul to an eternity
of torture. George Graystone, who has been picked up,
suffering from injury to the head, owing to the concussion of
his canoe with the rescuing steamer, is carried to New
Zealand, and in the hospital at Auckland he recovers, but
with the loss of the memory of all his former experience,
having to be re-taught to speak, read, and write. His name
being unknown, he has been given that of the ship in which

he arrived, "John Hammond," and this he unquestioningly
adopts. Cases such as his are by no means unknown in the
annals of psj'chological medicine, and the whole delineation
of this character is skUful. Having grown into a strong
man, he meets by chance with his former comi)anion, Jim
Harper, who has come to New Zealand to try his luck, since
the family has gi-own poor under the religious extravagance
of Mrs. Harper. The two make friends without recognising
each other, and succeed in discovering and pegging out
claims on a goldlield, which makes them both rich men.
The excitement of sudden wealth is, however, too much
for Jim, and he falls ill. While he is thus prostrated,
he receives a letter from Florence to the effect that
their mother has mortgaged their home, " The Petrel,"
in order to build a chapel for Mr. Heron, and that
the house in which they were born will have to be
sold. Jim being too ill to move, Hammond goes to
England to stop tlie sale. He meets his father, 8ir James
Graystone, in the train going down to Daffydale, and the old
gentleman is attracted to him, owing to his likeness to his
son. They, however, quarrel when each discovers that the
other's business is to buy the " Petrel." On coming amidst
the scenes of his childhood, George Graystone's memory
gradually revives, and his cui-e is completed by the sight
of Florence, his child-sweetheart, whom he eventually
marries. All thus comes right in the end, the old baronet
recovering his heir, and the young heroine her lover, and
everyone attains the conviction that God is " merciful, not
merciless," even the preacher, Mr. Heron, seceding from his
gloomy faith. He is led to do this by the knowledge of the
evil it produces, and decided by the death of one of his con-
gregants. " I was with her to the last," he says. '■ I
always looked upon her as one of the most religious persons
who went to my chapel, but her deathbed was terrible. Up
to the last moment of her life she had a dreadful fear that
she had committed the ' unpardonable sin ' ; that she was
an outcast from God, predestined by Sovereign Will to be
everlastingly lost. To her mind devils were awaiting her
last breath, in order to drag her down to hell. Her agony
was frightful. This deathbed made me think as I never
thought before concerning the effects of our theology, so I
decided not to preach it again — at least not the portion of
it that relates to everlasting punishment." It is a pity that
many a clergyman in real life should not take ivarning from
cases such as these, with which each preacher of this
ghastly doctrine m-ast frequently meet. A religion which
serves to render a deathbed a scene of horror instead of one
of peaceful resignation does not deserve the name of religion
— a creed which serves to people our madhouses as this does,
and represents the Deity as the most cruel of tyrants, should
be banished for ever, and its teaching regarded as a crime.

The Silence of Bean Maitland. By ^Maxwell Gray.
(Kegan Paul, Trench k, Co.) — The gap among novelists of
the first rank caused by the death of George Eliot remains
unfilled. A few promising candidates are in the field, but
.as yet their works have not justified their election, and
they have now to face the imminent risk of being passed by
the authoress (for surely only a woman could have written
it) of this powerful and pathetic story. If the high level
which it reaches at a bound is maintained, and its success
does not tempt Maxwell Gray to " walk into the parlour "
of the publisher with any less matured work, her high
place is assured. Never, in our judgment, hav^e the refined
and illiterate, yet shrewd, types of English rural life been
more skilfully depicted ; there is not a lay figure in any of
the characters the tragedies of whosa lives compose thLs
drama, and we take reluctant leave of them as of men and
women known in the flesh. For vivid and delicate descrip-
tion we can recall nothing of its kind which excels, and

46

KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[Deecmber 1, 1886.

little that equals, the scene in tlie opening chapter, when
Alma Lee, leaning wearily on the gate and watching the
waning of the grey afternoon, hears the music rung out
from the tiny bells that tinkle on the nodding heads of
Farmer Long's team as it drags the massive waggon up-hill.
What shame and sorrow the on-coming days brought her ;
what blight fell on innocent lives, killing high ideals,
through the silence which Dean Maitland broke only when
the wrong done was irreparable, our readers must learn for
themselves. Ingenious as is the plot, and unHagging as it
is in interest, the book is not to be read for that alone, but
also for its charm of presentment and wholesomeness of tone.

The Life and Labours of John Mercer, F.R.S., F.C.S.
By Edward A. Parnell, " F.C.S. (London: Longmans,
(ireen, &: Co. 188G.)— Mr. Parnell has produced a biography
absolutely s?a generis. His book very largely consists of
recipes used at the Oakenshaw Calico-printing Works,
chapters descriptive of the processes there employed being
connected by a .slender thread of narrative of a few inci-
dents in the uneventful life of the guiding spirit there.
Mercer was undoubtedly a remarkable instance of a self-
taught scientific man who rose from the ranks, such eminence
as he achieved mainly belonging to the earlier half of the
century. This "Life," however, will be chiilly found
valuable by those engaged in the occupation which he so
successfully followed. By far the most interestint part of it
to the general reader appears under the heading of- Thoughts
on Mould, and Preparations for the Cholera," whence it
seems that as early as 1813 Mercer advanced a germ-theory
of disease, of which the current microbe doctrine of Pasteur
and Koch is only a development.

Soli'l Geometri/. By Percival Frost, D.S?., F.R.S.
Third edition. (London: Macmillan & Co. 1886.)— The
mathematician will welcome this new edition of the familiar
"Treatise on Solid Geometry," of Frost and Wostenholme.
In his preface to the second edition Dr. Frost deplored the
loss of his coadjutor's aid ; but, without in the smallest
degree intending to depreciate the value of Mr. Wosten-
holme's co-operation, we cannot say that the result of Dr.
Frost's unaided exertions leaves anything to be desired.
For lucidity, exhaustiveness, and thoroughness of exposi-
tion, the work in its present form may well challenge
comparison with any one extant. We note that Dr. Frost —
as it seems to us with a great show of reason — jjersists in
designating the locus for the equation of the second degree
(more commonly known as "quadric") as " conicoid" It
may suffice to show that the most rigid application to the
.study of the higher mathematics by no means necessarily
crushes out the sense of the humorous if we quote a few
words from those in which our author justifies his nomen-
clature. "I consider," he says, "that the surface of the
second degree at present, whatever may be the case in some
futui'e development, stands on a platform of its own on
account of the services which it has rendered to all depart-
ments of mathematical science, and well deserves a distinc-
tive name instead of being recognised only by its number,
a mode of designation which, I am informed, a convict feels
so acutely. Man might be always called a biped, because
besides himself there exists a quadruped, an octopus, and a
centipede, but on account of his superiority it is more com-
plimentary to call him by some special name." The book
has obviously been very carefully read for the press.

The C'heircistri/ of Wheat, Flour, and Bread. IBy William
Jago, F.C.S., &c. (Brighton, 138 Springfield Bead : The
Author. 1886.) — Mr. Jago has produced what may fairly
be termed an encyclopedia of milling, breadmr.king, and
baking, which will be found alike useful to the practical
baker and the technological chemist, to say nothing of the

ordinary consumer who may feel interested in the com-
position of " the staff of life," and desire to know somewhat
of its composition and the method of production, and to be
able to detect adulteration in it where it exists. The
chemistry of the subject is exhaustively treated, and a full
description is given of every baking process at present in
Tise. The analytical portion of the book may be p.articu-
laily commended. A chapter is given on the moulds and
fungoid growtlis which attack wheat and flour; in fact,
nothing of the slightest interest is omitted in connection
with the subjects on which the volume treats. Mr. Jago
has done his work well.

Casar : a Sketch. By J. A. FuoiDE. (Longmans.) — Per-
haps the most striking parts of this book, the cheaper i-eprint
of which is welcome, are in the earlier chapters, with their
parallels between Eoman and modern society, especially in
the decay of old beliefs, to the outward and visible forms of
which a seeming respect is paid. As to the fidelity of the
portrait of the great leader which is sketched in Mr. Fronde's
matchless pro.se, opinions will difier, as they differ about aught
else that he has written, but in lesser degree as the materials
for the sketch are imperfect and remote. There can, how-
ever, be no diversity of judgment on the skill with which
those materials are woven together, nor on the vivid pre-
sentment of the man whose character Mr. Fronde has, we
think, assessed accurately and impartially.

Boy's Own Stories. By Ascott R. Hope. (T. Fisher
Unwin.) — Mr. Ascott Hope is one of the few writers of
books for boys who has a worthy ideal in fulfilling his
vocation. The tone of all his works is refined and whole-
some, and he has withal the rare merit of never repeating
himself, not only because his own ideas run in no narrow
groove, but because he takes pains to go far afield for the
materials for his stories. He has, in the present volume,
gathered these from both hemispheres, and had the good
fortune to unearth .some original autobiographies — narratives
of peril and adventure, which cannot fail to interest his
audience. Divei'se as are the sources from which these are
gathered, the book has a unity of purpose and subject, and,
whilst the opening tale introduces us to tragic scenes from
the Reign of Terror, the closing tale is founded on an
enthrilling and affecting incident of the later Revolution
which Mr. Hope has adapted from a little-known remi-
niscence of Jules Simon.

We have received the concluding part of Messrs. Hudson
and Gosse's superb and exhaustive monogra])h on the
Rotifera, or Wheel Animalcules (Longmans); also the cur-
rent issues of Mr. Teall's British Petror/raphy, to which
we hope every student of that branch of the science is sub-
sciibing ; and of Mr. Cole's Studies in Microscopical Science,
which maintains its high character. Messrs. Cassell send
us a School Bank Manual, by Agnes Lambert, which is
terse and to the point ; a new edition of Morell's Guide to
Einploi/ment in the Civil Service, the best book extant as an
aid to candidates in choosing a department of the Service
and in hints as to success ; and a second edition of Miss Buck-
land's (yfory <)/'.£'));/&/« /^i^pca?Mr«. This is a good intro-
duction to study of the more elaborate works of writers
like Professor Morley, and may conduce to the selection of
some period of which full knowledge is more instructive
than any skimming of so vast a subject can be. But the
space given to the older writers has compelled too meagre
treatment of the moderns.

Microscopists may be interested in the following : — The
whole of the scientific effects of the late Dr. John Matthews,
Vice-President of the Quekett Society, will shortly be sold
at Stevens's Rooms, King Street, W.C.

December 1, 1886.]

♦ KNO>A/'LEDGE ♦

47

Mr. Medland, of the Borough, has designed an ingenious
and compact box. which, within the portable compass of
10 inches length and 4 inches width, contains sixteen trays,
in the flaps of which 1-14 slides can be well and safely
packed, any slide being easily withdrawn by opening the
fall-back side with which the box is fitted. It is made of
polished pine, costs 7s. 6(/., and is the best and cheapest
tinns; of the kind that we have seen.

d^ur €\)t^^ Column.

By " Mephisto. '

A FKW EXAMPLES OF BLACKBURNE'S SKILL.

GAME-ENDIXG.

A M A TE r R .— B I. A ( K ( 1 2 pieces ).

.„„.„ i ■ 2 |gi

^ mm..y..,Mm. ^ f«^

BLACKBLK.Nii.— Whuk ^ll lni.ui.-s;.

TnE following is an ending of a game Mr. Blackburne played at
the Manchester Chess Club with an amateur. He gave the odds
of the Queen's Rook. Wc append the moves of the brilliant
finish : —

1. B to QKta R to Ksq. 3. Kt to B7 (cli) K to K:i

2. Q to Q6 (ch) K X Q 4. B to Q6 mate.

The following very pretty game is one of eight
folded and simultaneously by Mr. Blackburne at th
Chess Club :^

(Danish Gambit.)

TJT,.\CK. WHITE.

C. lirevig. i Blackburne.

P to Kl 14. R to B sq

T :< P ^ - - ~ -

PxP
P X P (rt)
Kt to KB3
Kt to B3
B to Kt5
B X Kt (i)
Castles
Kt to K.I
Kt to Ktl
QxKt
Qto K2

WHrrE.
Blackburne,

1. P to K4

2. P to Ql

3. PtoQBS

4. B to QB4
."). B X P

G. Kt to QB3

7. Kt to B3

8. Castles
!). B X B

10. P to K.T

11. B to Kt2

12. KtxKt

13. P tp B4

15.
16.

17.
18.
19.
20.
21.

B to Q3
P to B.5
R to K sq
RxP
Q to K sq
R X Kt (c)
Rto K7

played blind-
e Manchester

BL.iCK.

C. Brevig.
Kt to R4
P to Q4
P to KB3
PxP
Qto B2
Kt to B3
PxR
B to Q2 (rf)

Bl."-K ni v!.-ce-1.

Black (1-3 pieces).

1

1 i 1 ■^■

1 t 1'

m

^f^

s

ilij

z

\^\

White 1.II liece

White (9 pieces).

22. RxQ RxR

23. Q to Kt3 R to K sq

24. P tijKK4 P to Bt
2.1. P to R.5 (e) P to B.-,

, 2G. B to Kt sq P to Bl

AMATEUR.— Black (10 pieces).

BLACKJiUBNE.-

27. Pto B6(f) Pto Q5

28. B X P (eh) (g) K x B

29. Q to Kt6 (ch) K to Kt sq

-White ( 8 pieces).

30. P to R6 R to KS (ch)

31. Kto R2 Bto K3

32. BP X P, and Black cannot avert
mate beyond four more moves

NOTES.

(a) This constitutes the Danish Gambit. The two White Bishops
are very strongly posted. The chief danger lies in White advancing
his P to K'), thereby blocking Black's game.

(4) Black would not derive any benefit from playing 9. P to Q3
instead of 9. B x Kt, for White would reply with 10. Kt to Q.'i, in
which case Black could not play Kt x Kt on account of 11. P x Kl,
followed by 12. Q to R4 (ch), winning a piece.

(c) Very cleverly designed, especially if wc consider that Whi'e
must have foreseen some such chance by playing his QR to B sq.

(d) Compelled to give up his Queen, as otherwise Black would be
mated.

(e) Planning a very ingenious attack. Black is vainly endeavour-
ing to cut off the commanding diagonal of White's QB by attempt-
ing to fix his P on Q.").

(/) Prepaiing a very pretty combination.
iff) Very pretty.

Another blindfold game played on the same occasion ;
(Allgaier-Thorold Gambit.)

1.

3.

4.
5.
6.

White.
Blaikbiirne,
P to K4
P to KB4
Kt toKB3
P to KR4
Kt to Kto
Kt X P

7. P to Q4

8. BxP
9,

10

11. P to Qo

12. Castles

13. B to K3

14. KtxP

Bl.ACK.

T. G. Boolaye.
P to K4

PxP

P to KKt4
P to Kto
P to KR3
K X Kt
P tj Q4
PxP

B to K2 («) Kt to KB3
Kt to B3 Kt to B3 (A)
Kt to K2
Kt to Kt3
B to K2
K to Kt2

White.
Blackburne.
n to Q4
P to R5
B X KtP
BxB

to B3
P to Q(> (,•)
Kt X R

22. QRto Ksq

23. Q to Bo

24. R to B3

].■

If..

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

Black.
I. G. Boulayc.
R to B sq.
Kt to R sq
P to R4 ((•)
QxB(n')
R to R3
RxP
PxKt
Q toQ2
Q to Q sq
R to B2

2.5.
26.
27.
2S.

R (B3) to K3 K to Kt sq
ExKt(/) RxB
Q to Q.-j (ch) Kt to B2
R ■: B and

wins

(rt) A change from tlie usual proceedings ; in its favour may be
said that it leaves Black's K on the B2, where he is less safe than
on Kt2.

(J) Here B to Q3 seems better.

(c) Played in the vain hope of being able to afford some pro-
tection to Kt by R to I!3.

(//) If, instead of this, RxB, White will win a piece by
18. Q to Kt5(ch), followed by 19. Kt x Kt &c.

(c) There is no answer to this move.

(/) Winning a piece.

Contents of No. 1.3.

r.voE

The Earthquake in America 1

Ccal. Bj- W. Matt'eu Williams .. 2

TLe Ucccnt Total Siilav Eolij se 4

Ethnology of the BJackfoot Tribes. . 6

The Southern Night Skies C,

,V Uniform Atlas 8

Photograph of Jupiter 9

Oar Puzzles 9

Mathematical Recreations 10

The Schoolgirls' Puzzle 11

Birthof tlisSun 15

PAGE

Notes on Americanisms. By

Richard A. Proctor ". 14

The Naturalist's l.aboratnry IC

Gossip By Richard A. Proctor .. 18

Reviews 19

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs" 22

Our Chess Coinmn. By "Me-
phisto " 23

The Face of the Sky for November.

By F R.A S 24

48

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[December 1, 1886.

WHIST.
By "Five of Clubs."

fpiIE following game is from tlie Westminster Paptrs, and was
-L recently selected as a good iUustrative hand for the wliist
column of the Australasian : —

THE HANDS.

„ rS. (triimj)x).~A. 2, 4, 9.
\H.— A, 4, G.

C— Kn, 5, 10.
D.— 5, 6,

5, 10.\
.8- /

B

f S. ^tj»).-K, Q
H.— K, Q, 7, 10.
C— A, Q, 2, 3, 8.
D.— A, 10.

Y

Z

Tr. S. 7.
A leads.

S.Ciyw").— o.C,,7,8,10
H.— Kn, 3, 2.
C.-K, 7, 9.
P.-Q, 9.

. /S. {trumps). — En, .'
^ I H— 5, 8, 9.
A B play against I'and Z.

A

Y

0

OOOO

o o
ooo c>

•p 4- 4-
4. 4- 4-

^P 0 0 0

o o

0^0
0 0

— 4—

4" 4-
4- 4-
4. 4.

*

4. 4-
4-

4> 4-

4.^4.
4. 4.

4. 4.

— 5 —

O B*'^ J [a a] ^X a

0 0
0 0

4-'4-

7 <?,

13

<7 (?

—11—

C— 4. 6. "1

D.-K, Kn, 2, 3, 4, 7 /
Woore -.—A B three; I' Z love.

NOTES OX THE PLAT.

Card underlined wins trick ; card
underneath leading next.

1. The usual lead cow is
the fourlh best — the so-called
American lead. As the cards lie,
3" .? would have lost nothing had
X passed his partner's trick. But
he had to play a forward game,
the chances being that A B were
two by honours.

2. The spade six would now be
commonly played.

3. Better return his partner's
suit.

4. 3' can now place Spade four
and anotlier Spade in .B's hand,
whose lead at trick 3 spoke plainly
of four trumps. Therefore,

7, 8, 9, after making two of his
•winning Clubs, Y goes on with
them, leading through B's pro-
bable minor Tenace. B of course
lets the Club pass through a
winning card. Z must either take
this Club or the Three. If he
passes both, he will have to take
the 11th trick, and B will make
his Spade nine.

12, 13. y,?'wins the game.

MATHEWS ON WHIST.
Our column of Whist strategy
from Mathews is crowded out this
month.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR DECEMBER.

By F.R.A.S.

EVER more than 15^ high even at noon, and
^lirouded in the mists of winter, the sun now
is soen with difficulty, even when visible at all.
On tlie 21st (the shortest day) he is only above
the horizon of London for 7h. 44m. The night
sky is portrayed in mapxii. of "The Stars in tlieir
Seasons." Minima of Algol (same map) may be
observed at llh. lom. P.M. on the 6ih ; 8h. ."im. p.m.
on the 9th; 4h. 54m. P.M. on the 12th; 12h.58m. P.M.
on tlie 2(;tli, and 9h. 47m. p M. on the 29th. Mercury is a morning
star, and travels to his greatest distance west of the sun (21° 52')
on the 22ud ; but he is so badly placed that we may regard him as
invisible. Venus, also a morning star, is worse placed still. She
comes into superior conjunction with the sun (or is behind him)
during the early morning of the 3rd. Mars will be invisible for the
observer's purpose during the remainder of the year, a remark which
applies equally to Jupiter. Saturn rises between 6 and 7 o'clock
in the evening at the beginning of December, and about 20
minutes to 5 on the 31st, so that he is visible during a very large
part of the amateur's working night. The slight closing up of his
rings will be noted. It is travelling towards 5 Geminorum (•' The
Stars in their Seasons," map ii.). Uranus is invisible ; but Neptune
may still be seen in the barren region in Taurus to the south and
(just to the west) of the Pleiades. The moon enters her first quarter
at 2h. 2om. P.M. on the ord ; is full at 9h. 30-2m. A.M. on the 11th ;
enters her last quarter at (ih. 39 1 A.M. on the ISth ; and is new at
9h. 54 7m. A.M. on the 25th. Several stars will be occulted by the
moon during December, but four onlj' of such occultations will
happen at convenient hours for the student. On the 3rd //' Aquarii,
a star of the 5Uh magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb
of the moon at 5h. Sm. P.M., at an angle from her vertex of 116°. It
will reappear at her bright limb at Ch. 30m. P.M., at an angle of 28fi°
from her vertex. On the 10th, B..\.C. 1526, of the 6th magnitude,
will disappear at the dark limb at lOh. 29m. p.m , at a vertical
angle of 78° ; to re.appear at the bright limb at 1 Ih. 44m. P..M., at an
angle of 292° from the moon's vertex. On the 14th, 54 Cancri,
of the 6j'h magnitude, will disappear at the bright limb at
9h. 26m. P.M., at an angle from the vertex of the moon of 85°. It
will reappear at lOh. 9m. P.M., at the dark limb at an angle of 181°
from the vertex. Lastly, on the 28th, 29 Capricorni. a 6th magni-
tude star, will disappear at the dark limb at 6h. 31m. P.M., at an
angle of 159° from the lunar vertex ; but the moon will have set
ere it reappears at her opposite limb. At noon, on December 1, the
moon is on the confines of Capricornus and Aquarius (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate sxi.), and is subsequently travelling through
Aquarius until 7h. 30m. A.M. on the 4th, when she enters Pisces
(" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). In her journey through
Pisces, she arrives at 1 p.m. on the 7th at the northern corner of
Cetus ; by 3 o'clock the next morning she has traversed this and
entered Aries. She is in Aries until G A.M. on the 9th, when she
quits it for Taurus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). As she
passes across Taurus she reaches, at 9h. 30m. P.M. on the 11th, the
boimdary of the northern outlier of t)rion. This she crosses in
11 hours, and at 8h. 30m. A.M. on the 12th emerges in Gemini ("The
Seasons Pictured,'' plate xxiv.). She remains in Gemini until 1 A..M.
on the 14th, when she quits it for Cancer; leaving Cancer in turn
for Leo at noon on the 15th. She occupies until midnight on the
17th in passing over Leo, and, at the hour just named, crosses the
boundary into Virgo ("The Seasons Pictured," pla'e xxv.). It is
1 A.M. on the 21st ere her journey through Virgo is accomplished
and she has passed into Libra (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxvi.).
Here she remains until 9 p.m. on the 22nd, when she reaches the
narrow northern spike of Scorpio. By 6 o'clock the next morning
she has passed through this and entered Ophiuchus. At midnight
on the 24th she leaves Ophiuchus for Sagittarius ; as she does Sagit-
tarius for Capricornus at lOh. 30m. A.M. on the 27th (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxi.). At Gh. 30m. P.M. on the 28th she quits
Capricornus for Aquarius. She continues in Aquarius until 4 P.M.
on the 31st, when she enters Pisces, where she of course remains
when these notes terminate.

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge " as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
trarpmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

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To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent. Canada, United States,
and Egjptj the Subscription is 7a. 6d., ae heretofore.

Jaxi-ary 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

40

^ ILLUSTRATEg^MAGAZINE "^
SciENCE,lITERATURE,& ARI

LONDON: JANUARY 1, 1887.

THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIANITY.

Ev RicuARD A. Proctor.

N the fullowing summary of facts ami expression
of opinion I reply to the question addressed
me, as mentioned under " Gossip " in the last
number of Kxowi.edge, by a courteous clerical
correspondent : —

First, it is simply a fact (be the explanation
what it may) that not one of those wi iters,
.ind notably neither Josephus nor Philo — who might have
been expected to record many of the most remarkable events
associated with the life of Jesus the Christ (or Anointed)
in the Gospels according to Matthew, Maik. Luke, and
John — make any mention of those events, though several
were such as belong to the domain of history. Accepting
even all the passages which have long been recognised as
interpolations (seme of them of the clumsiest sort), this
remains true. Nay, if such passages are accepted, the
difficulty is considerabl}' increased.

SeconrUi/, it is sinijily a ftvct (be the explanation what it
may) that in the two sections of the New Testament which
have been shown to have been x-eally written by those whose
names are associated with them, viz., the four unmistakably
genuine letters of Paul (who had never met Jesus) and tlie
L'ook of Revelations by John, "the servant of Jesus"
(who knew Jesus well, and shows himself strongly — one
might almost say fiercely — anti-Pauline), we find scarcely
any reference to the details of the life of Jesus Christ. The
resurrection is the only point insisted upon by Paul ; and,
strangely enough, he insists on it in such a tone as to impl}-
that in his time not only the general doctrine of the restn--
rection of the dead, but the resurrection of Jesus, was dis-
jmted by many even in the Christian comnmnity. (Paul's
anxiety on this point is remarkable, be the explanation
■what it may.) No light falls on our problem from this
quarter. Nor are we helped if we regard all the epistles
attributed to Paul as really his, rejecting decisive evidence
that soree among them cannot have been written by the
great apostle of the Gentiles.

Tltinlli/, it is sinii)ly a fact (bo the explanation what it
may) that all those more remarkable details associated, long
after even the fall of Jerusalem, with the history of Jesus
the Christ, for mention of which we vainh' look in the pages
of contemporarj' wiilers, are found in the lecords of solar
heroes, or of men to whom, long after their death, the
characteristics of the sun-gcd were attributed — generally
among nations who had long since given up, or had even
absolutely forgotten, their old sun-worshipping religion.
This is true of every such detail, from the Annunciation to
the Ascension.

Fourthly, it is simply a fact (be the explanation what it
may) that all the miracles described in the New Testament

are such as had in old times been alwa}s regarded as specially
solar. Because the sun brings light, it had been taught
that the sun-god causes the blind to see ; because the sun
restores winter's dead to life, the sun-god raises the dead ;
because the sun restores sickly and diseased vegetation to
health, the sun-god heals the sick; because the sun turns
the waters which fall on the earth into the rich juice of the
vine, the sun-god turns water into wine; becau.se the sun
causes the seeds which fall on the earth to bear fruit, thirty,
sixty, and even a hundredfold, therefore the sun-god feeds
the world richly out of little ; because the sun kills feeble
vegetation, the sun-god blasts the barren tree ; because the
sun rises above the sea-horizon, the sun-god walks upon the
water ; and because as the sun reappears after the darkness
of storm, calm presently is restored, the sun- god stills the
tempest.

Fifthli/, it is simply a fact (be the explanation what it
may) that all the festivals eventually adopted, both in the
Eastern and Western Church, are not only related to
astronomical events, but still constantly regulated by them
— the movable festivals mostly depending on tlie equinoxes
and the moon, while the fixed festivals are associated with
the solstices. One might add such peculiarities as the twelve
apostles, who like the twelve patriarchs (unmistakably), and
the twelve apostles of Gautama, suggest a manifest association
with the twelve zodiacal signs or solar months ; while the
seventy disciples of Christ, like the seventy disciples of
Gautama, and divei-s others sets of seventy, suggest a
kindred a.ssociation with the ancient lunar year of five times
seventy days. But the determination of Christian, as of
Jewish, Mohammedan, and Buddhist festivals and fasts by
the critical phases of the sun and moon, is the fact of pro-
foundest .significance.

Sixthh/, it is simply a fact (be the explanation what
it may) that the natural events related in the four
Gospels which were retained (when two score and more were
rejected), are in nearly every case found to correspond
straugelj' with events referred to or fully related as actual
facts in the writings of Josephus and others ; but
as facts belonging to the histories of several difTerent
persons, not one of whom can be identified with Jesus
the Anointed Teacher, though several of them bore the
(then common) name of Jestis. Even so strange a circum-
stance as the crucifying of three persons, of whom two died
but the third was restored to life, actually happened to the
knowledge of Josephus, who describes the event in the most
natural and touching manner, but it happened long after
the time of Pontius Pilate, and the three who were crucified
were Josephus's ])ersonal friends. Indeed, so far as this
personal experience was concerned, the historical Josephus
of the family of Asamoners may be said in this story to
have filled the part filled in the other by Josephus of
Arimatbea. Even more perplexing is the reference by
Josephus to a man named Zacharias son of Baruch (who
was a sort of prophet, inasmuch as " he went over,"
Jo.=:ephus tells us, "all the transgressions of the people
against the law, and made many lamentations upon the
confusion to which they had brought public affairs ").
whom the people slew "in the middle of the temple."
This h;ippened about thirty years after Pontius Pilafc
was recalled to liome — accoiding to Josephus, for con-
demning to death a man who had led the people out
to Motint (ierizim under false pretences, and whose
record in this and other respects is (|uite unlike the
histor}' of Jesus, the Anointed Teacher of the Gospels.
The strangeness of the story lies iu its odd agreement
with the reference made by Jesus (according to a much
later account than Josephus's) to a prophet (described as
the last of those slain by the Jews) whom Jesus — according

50

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 1, 1887.

to this account— calls Zacharias, son of Barachias, and
"whom," he says, "ye slevy between the temple and the
altar." Zechariah prophesied five centuries before, and
has been apparently mixed up by the narrator (six cen-
turies after the prophet's time) both with a much earlier
Zechariah the son of .Jehoiada, who was stoned about 840
years before Christ, at the command of King Joash, " in the
court of the house of the Ijord " (2 Chronicles xxiv.
20-22), and with Zacharias, the son of Baruch, who was
slain in the midst of the temple, as related by .Josephus,
about a third of a century after the death of .Jesus the
Christ, according to the Gospel record.

Seventhly, it is a simple fact (be the explanation what it
may) that the teachings in the New Testament, not only in
their ethical aspect, but in method, and often in actual
wording, are such as Gautama and his disciples preached
long before, and as holy Aryans had taught long before
Gautama. Max Miiller dwells on the " strange coinci-
dences" which there are "between the language of the
Buddha and his disciples and the language of Christ
and his apostles. Even," he proceeds, " some of the
Buddhist legends and parables sound as if taken from
the New Testament, though we know that many of them
existed before the Christian era," which is Prof. Midler's
quaintly cautious way of saying that the New Testament
stories read as if derived from those earlier legends. There
is not one of the teachings regarded as most chai'acteristic of
Christianity which is not more ancient than Christianity by
many hundieds of years, albeit to the Jewish people
those teachings were new, as they were also to those Western
C-ientilcs whom the early apostles of Christianity chietly
taught. We cannot explain this l)y suggesting simply that
Jesus Christ was an Essene, though it seems tolerably clear
that he had been trained by teachers belonging to that sect ;
or by suggesting, farther, that the Essenes had received their
doctrines from Buddhist teachers, though there is strong
evidence that they had. There was more in the teaching of
Jesus, as there was more in the teaching of Paul, than
either had derived directly from the earlier leaders of the
Essenes ; and in the doctrines of the Essenes there were
details which had not been derived from Buddhist mission-
aries, either directly or indirectly — details which belonged
to the Semitic character, and without which no doctrines of
purely Aryan origin could ever have found favour among
the .Tews. Moreover, moral teachings must ever be expected
to grow purer and lietter as the human race advances, inso-
much that we can never hope to account for the full value
of the best teachings of one age by referring them to the
departed teachers of a less advanced one.

Such being the facts to which I have adverted with
greater or less fulness in these pages during the last twelve
months, I am asked what I myself believe in regard to
them, and how I explain the difficidties which to many they
appear to suggest. What is really wanted of me, I fancy,
is that I should mention what 1 do not believe — that I
should say not what I accept, but what I reject. I prefer,
however, to answei- the question precisely as it is put. In
fact, I must decline to do more, on the grounds both of
inclination .and of duty.

. Here, then, are some of the conclusions I accept, and
I imagine I shall find few Christian readers of these pages
who do not agree with me in accepting the teachings thus
suggested.

At any rate we can never go far wrong in adopting
inferences which either result directly from ascertained
facts, or are at least entirely consistent with them. I
believe that early in the first century a teacher of great
power, and of singulaidy earnest character, who was called
Jesus, and early known as the Christ or the Anointed, arose

among the Jews. I believe that this teacher, a man of
pure and blameless life (whatever else, higher yet, he may
have been) brought before that people more effectively than
any before, the better part of the doctrines — obviously Arj'an
in origin (whatever Semitic colouring they may have ac-
quired) by which the Essenes had long been distinguished
from other sects. I believe that the other sects, and
especially the Pharisees, offended both by the doctrines and
by the success of this teacher, opposed Jesus and his disciples
bitterly at every turn.

Among those who sought most ze.alously to check the
progress of the Essenes, and in particular of the followers
of Jesus, was Paul of Tarsus (by birth a Roman citizen), of
the tribe of Benjamin, and belonging to the most rigid sect
of the Pharisees. Educated in the learning of his day, for
which, Strabo tells us, Tarsus was celebrated, Paul went to
Jerusalem to study the laws and traditions of his people
under Gamaliel, one of the most distinguished of the Rabbis.
(His work in tent-making was simply carried out in pur-
suance of a Jewish custom, not with the intention of making
such work his trade.) He was present when still a young
man (according to the Pauline author of the Acts of the
Apostles, written long after Paul's death) when Stephen
was killed. As has often happened in such cases, his
earnest and fiery zeal for institutions which he regarded as
especially Jewish, was converted into a still more earnest
and fiery zeal for the doctrines which he had helped to
oppose, so soon as he recognised in the first place their
inherent beauty and value, and in the second the integrity
and devotion of those who accepted them. He not only
became a believer in the " foreign " doctrines, but was
moved to teach those doctrines to Gentile races. He had
known of Jesus Christ as the chief teacher of the new
doctrines, and now taught them himself in the name of
Jesus, and as a follower of Him who though dead sjioko
now through him, and whose resurrection from the dead
he taught as an essential part of the new doctrine.

Among the earlier Jewish apostles the views of Paul
were strenuously opposed, and by none more zealously than
by John, the only other contemporary of Jesus whose actual
writings have reached us (unless we accept as genuine the
Epistle of Jude, rendered doubtful by the reference to the
Gospel of " Enoch, the seventh from Adam," a work with
which Enoch had certainly nothing to do), which are quoted
probably from Matthew's record. Matthew appears to
have left a record in writing of the teachings of Christ.
This Gospel appeared in all probability about thirty years
after Matthew's death, which we m.ay assume occurred near
the year 70. The Gospel according to Matthew has an
Ebionite and anti-Pauline tone, which the strongly Pauline
Ciospel '• .according to" Luke seems to have been intended to
correct. The Gospel (really the second, though placed third)
prob.ibly appeared about the year 115. In the Gospel
"according to" Maik, probably produced about twenty
years later, there seems to be an endeavour to reconcile the
opposing doctrines. But by this time the Pauline views, on
which in fact the establishment of Christianity essentially
depended, were generally accepted.

The Go.spel according to John cannot have been in exist-
ence A.D. 168; for, in the Quartodeciman controversy in
that year, the authority of John was cited in direct contra-
diction to the doctrines which the fourth Gospel urgently
maintains. Possibly the appearance of that Gospel very
soon afterwards may be attributed to this circumstance.

With regard to the life of .Jesus, it is certain that long
after he had passed away events were narrated in regard to
him such as — either by some strange coincidence or other-
wise— were recorded by Josephus as having happened to
other persons to his own knowledge, while another series of

January 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO\VLEDGE ♦

51-

events, mostly of a much more remarkable nature, were
narrated in reference to Jesus Christ, which — either by
some still more remarkable coincidence or otherwise — bad
bsen related thousands of years before about the sun-god,
and afterwards (but still hundreds of years before the time
of this great teacher) had been mistakenly attributed to a
number of pei-sons who had actually lived, though, as in his
case, the accounts only appeared long after such persons had
passed away.

So much I believe. Most of this, indeed, is simply a
re-statement of facts. Be the significance of these facts
what it may, they must be accepted by all who have any
real faith (for only the fearful try to blind their eyes to
facts). What I do not believe — it is not necessary for me
to say.

The evidence appears to me decisive that, though the
doctrines of C'hristianity reached the present Christian
world from a Semitic source, they are of pureh* Aryan
origin. But, though those doctrines were originallj- Aryan,
they would never have made their way as they did among
the races which now accept them had it not been, first, for
the specific warmth of colour given them by Jewish teachers,
and especially by Jesus and Paul (who were, indeed, the
teachers of the Jews) ; and secondly, for the special circum-
stances which led to the dispersion of such teachers among
non- Jewish races after tlie Fall of Jerusalem. In the spread
of the doctrines of love and justice among races then about
to take leading positions in the world, but then (as now)
most prone to cruelty and wrong-doing, I recognise the
greatest event of which human history bears record, and
promise of the worthiest fruit. Hut though thefiflls have
long been ripening into harvest the full time for reaping has
nut yet come ; ire shall not live to see it,jhoujh some even in
our day liave discerned its fair fields and phasant homesteads
from the Pisgah they sadbj owf p^iinfuUy have climbed.

THE STORY OF CREATION.

A PLAIN ACCOrNT OF EVOLCTION.

Br Edward Clodd.
PART U.

Chapter II.— THE ORIGDJ OF LIFE.

yjLNJjjJWBSAJ HE fascination which the question of the

■ ^7'a C"v4 origin of life possesses is not lessened by
the slow abrasion of the artificial lines
which divide the living from the non-living.
Bound it, like planet tethered to sun by the

■ ^j^jB^Uji invisible force of attraction, the mind of
-:. — I— 1 man revolves, unable to disentangle itself

auJ cjcai'e lato a larger orbit, whence the truer proportions
of things may be seen ; nor will the undue importance
accorded 'to the living vanish until there is deepened within
us that sense of the unbroken intenelation of all things to
which science brings her " cloud of witnesses."

It is agreed that there was an '• azoic" or lifeless period
in the history of the earth — therefore that life had a begin-
ning ; and it is with the evidence as to continuity or gap
between the azoic and the zoic epochs that the present
chapter is concei-ned.

The azoic stage is evidenced by the primordial tempera-
ture of the globe, which, taking the present temperature of
the sun as a fair standard of comparison, is computed to
have been 1 -t,lX)0 times hotter than boiling water. Under
such highly energetic conditions chemical combinations of
the vaporous particles were impossible, and, a fortiori, ^-ital

combinations. But with the slow cooling consequent upon
the continuous passage of the earth's molecular energy into
space, the combining forces came into more and more active
pLiy, forming first the extremely simple and more stable
compounds, as water: then the more complex and less stable,
as salts ; and so on in increasing complexity of material and
unlikeness of structure. Obviously an enormous fall in the
temperature took place before the supei'heated mass became
cool enough to permit the formation of an outer crust, into
the depressions of which, probably at first at the temperature
of a dull red heat, the water fell as it was condensed from
the vapours which, charged with vast quantities of unab-
sorbed elements, floated over it.

Thus far, in broad outline, the material foundation for
the superstructure of life.

When and hou- did life have its beginning? The first part
of the question can be disposed of briefly. We do not know.
But we do know that life must be vastly earlier than any
record of it.

As to the mode, let us approach the problem by treating
of what is common to both the lifeless and the living. Now,
in brief, there are no elements in the one which do not occur
in the other. The most complex plant and animal, and
the lowest living germ, so apparently devoid of sti-ucture that
it can only by courtesy be called an organism, are made of
materials derived, directl}- or indirectly, from earth and air
and water. These materials are oxygen, carbon, hydrogen,
nitrogen, with a little sulphur and phosphorus, and still
fainter traces of other elements, combined in extreme and
elusive complexity. Of the .several elements entering into
this subtle combination, carbon is probabl)' the element t<
which the most prominent part is to be assigned. It.\
compounds are more numei-ous and important than
those of all the other elements taken together, and it
possesses the property of uniting in manifold relations both
of number and weight. Combining with the foregoing
elements, it gives rise to the stufi" called protoplasm, a pecu-
liar feature of which is that it is neither solid, liquid, nor
gaseous, but semi-fluid, or of sticky consistence. It is from
this " physical basis of life" that, by successive modifica-
tions, slow in their operations, the teeming variety of living
things has been developed. These, as explained already, are
made up of myriads of cells, each of which is a life centre,
their combination being the sum total of the life of the
organism. But the cell itself is an organisation formed from
the formless protoplasm, marking the fii-st stage in .struc-
ture ; and therefore the question as to the mode of origin of
life narrows itself to the origin, not of complex organisms,
nor of cells, but of protophism. Given the matter which
composes it, and the play of forces and energies of which
that matter is the vehicle, wherein lies the difference which
gives as one result non-living substance, and as another
result living substance? The answer obviously is that
the ingrediiinls being the same, the difference must lie in
the mixing.

We are already familiar in the inorganic world with the
existence of the same element in more than one form, but
with dilferent characteristics — t.g. of carbon, as diamond,
graphite, and charcoal; the difierence being doubtless due
to molecular arrangement. Chemistry also reveals intimate
likeness of materials in the compounds known as isomeric,
in which the physical and chemical properties vary consider-
abl}'. It has also manufactured organic compounds, as
starch, uvea, and alcohol, the production of which was once
thought impossible ; and if the experiments to produce the
living out of the not-liviug by decoctions of hay and ex-
tracts of beef have failed, as we might expect they would,
this failure can have no weight against the argument that
we cannot think any limit to the possibilities of Nature's

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 1, 1887.

subtle transmutations during the vast periods that the earth
has been a possible abode of life. And is not the transmu-
tation of the inorganic into the organic ceaselessly going on
within the kboritory of the plant under the agency of
chlorophyll]

The ultimate cause which, bringing certain lifeless bodies
together, gives living matter as the result, is a profound
mystery. But, although the living thing affects us much
more nearly than lifeless stones and rain, it hides no pro-
founder mystery than they. The " affinities," as in our
ignorance we name them, which lock the elements into
ifeautifal crystalline forms, are no whit less wonderful than
the motions in matter through which the same elements
manifest the phenomena of life. The origin of life is
not a more stupendous problem to solve than the origin
of water. Both protoplasm and water liave properties
that do not belong to the individual atoms which com-
pose them, and the greater complexity of the living
compound does not constitute a difference in kind, but
only in degree. It does not seem, after all, such a far cry
from the crystal to the amccba as from the amo'ba to Plato
and Newton. The crystal and the amo'ba take their place
as independent products of physical and chemical change,
and cannot do other than obey the law of their development.
The crysta's of rock-salt, determined liy the mutual action
of the'attractive and repellent poles of their atoms, dispose
themselves as cubes ; the crystals of snow as hexagons ; of
sulphur as rhomboids; and the protoplasmic atoms, obeying
their polarities and charged with separating enex'gics, dispose
themselves " each after his kind." I'ut whilst the crystal
grows by accretion at the surface, although even this dis-
tinction has its rare exceptions, the cell grows by assimi-
lation or intussusception, i.e. by inllowing of nutrition
amongst all its parts. Speaking relatively, for nothing is
absolutely motionless, the crystal is stable, iriesponsive ;
the cell is plastic, unstable, responsive, adapting itself to
the slightest variation; it "stoops to conquer," and so
undergoes ceaseless modification by interaction with its ever-
changing environment. Life involves delicacy of con-
struction ; hence the transient nature of the organic in
contrast to the abiding nature of the inorganic. And,
strange as it may seem, separation is life; integration is
death. For life is due to the sun's r.adiant energy, which,
setting up separative movements, enables the plant to con-
vert, through its mysteriou.s alchemy, the lifeless into the
living, thus forming energetic compounds which ai-e used,
partly by the thrifty plant for its own vital needs, and
largely by the spendthrift animal for its nutrition, to repair
waste and maintain functions. Ultimately the energy thus
derived from the sun directly by the plant, and indirectly
by the animal, passes into space ; and " the dust returns to
the earth as it was."

Turning to mental phenomena, from its lowest manifesta-
tions in the simplest reflex action of the amceba and the
sundew when touched, to its highest manifestations in con-
sciousness or self-knowledge, we find the connection between
it .and the bodily movements a greater crux than the con-
nection Ijetween the inorganic and the organic. We know-
that all the thoughts we think, and all the emotions we feel,
involve aphysicalproccss ; that is to say, they areaccompanied
by certain chemical changes, molecular vibrations in nerve-
tissue, involving waste or large expenditure of energy, which is
repaired Ijy food. We luiow that the healthy working of the
braindepends uiiun nourishment, upon abstinence from excess,
upon freedom from injuvy. Starve or stun or stupefy a
man, let palsy or paralysis afflict him, and the complex
machinery is thrown out of gear. And we know that the
larger the projiortion of brain to body, and the more numerous
and intricate the furrows and creases iu the grey matter

of the bi-ain, the higher in the life-scale are the mental
powers.

But the gulf between consciousness and the movements of
the molecules of nerve-matter, measurable as these are, is
impassable ; we can follow the steps of the mechanical pro-
cesses of nerve-changes till we leach tlie threshold across
which things are known by us, and Ijeyond that we cannot
go. We can neither affirm nor deny ; we can only confess
ignorance. " If anyone says that consciousness cannot exist
except in the relation of cause and effect with certain organic
molecules, I must ask how he knows that; and if he says
that it can, I must put the same question." * That is the
impregnable position of physical science as defined by its
greatest living expositor. " .Soul is only known to us in a
brain, but the special note of soul is that it is callable of
existing without a brain, or after death." t That is the
unveiitiable assumption of dogmatic theology.

INDIAN MYTHS.

By " Stella Occidens."

DAWN.

1 K whole theogony and philosophy of the
ancient world," says Max Midler, " centred
in the Dawn, the mother of the bright
gods, of the Sun in his various aspects of
the morn, the day, the spring, her.self the
brilliant image and visage of immortality."
We find this likewise in the mythology of
the American Indian races. Michabo,
ISIauabozho, and Hiawatha are names which mean the Great
Light, Spirit of Dawn ; and Michabo,! as he is sometimes
called, means the (4reat White (Jne. He dispels the dark-
ness, and his weapons are thunder and lightning, according
to the Dacotahs. He is supposed to have engaged in a
desperate struggle with his father, the West Wind, to
avenge the death of his mother. When he had succeeded
in driving his opponent to the brink of the world, the West
Wind cried out, " Hold, my son, you know my power, and
that it is impossiljle to kill me ! "

This struggle is supposed to represent the daily encounter
between light and darkness that knows no end, both op-
ponents being invincible. The same myth is related with
regard to Hiawatha among the Iroquois, Manabozho and
Missibizi among the Algonkins and Chippeways. All these
names mean Dawn in the diflerent dialects of these races.

A curious likeness to the story of Jonah can be tr.aced in
the account of the heroes Manabozho and Hiawatha. Whilst
angling for Nahma, the King of Fishes, the monster sud-
denly dai-ted upward.

Opened Lis great .i;iws, and swalloweil
Botli canoe and lli.awatha.
Down into that d.arksome cavern
Plunged the headlong Hiawatha,
As a log on some black river
Shoots and plunges down the rapids.

Hiawatha felt his way iu the darkness, and pidled liis
canoe across Nahma's throat. After a great struggle,
Hiawatha killed the great fish, and, with the assistance
of the seagulls, who pecked an opening in the ribs of the
monster, he was soon released from his dark prison.

* Professor Huxley on '• Science and Morals," Fortiiightlij Meeien;
December 1886.

t Principal TiiUoch, "Modern Theories in Philosophy and Reli-
gion," p. 328.

; IJrintoii, " Jlyths of the New World," p. 179.

.Tantauv 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

00

Here we see plainly in the first myth that Hiawatha is
the Sun, who engages in a conflict with the West (the
sunset region ). He follows the West to the brink of the
workl (twilight), and is apparently devoured by some
monster typical of night. Hiawatha does not )'ea|)pear
until the seagulls set him free, and the first light of
(lawn appears shining through the ribs of Nahraa. He
is at last released and driven ashore near his lodge iu
tiie east, where he reappears iu all his glory and is
proclaimed victorious over the night.

A myth not unlike the above is told among the Ojiliways
about the Little oNlonedo. The latter is swallowed by a
great fish, and is cut out again by his sister.*

The Chippeway Indians believe that Michabo resides
towards the east, and in the formula of the nieda craft,
when the winds are invoked to the medicine lodge, the east
Ls summoned iu his name. The door opens in that direc-
tion, and there, at the edge of the earth, where the sun
rLses, on the shore of the infinite ocean that surrounds the
land, he has his house, and sends his luminaries forth on
their daily journey.

According to an Algonkin legend, Michabo was one of
four brothers, representing the north, south, east, and
west. They are named resjaectively Wabun, Kabun, Kabi-
bonokka, and Shawano.f

In Longfellow's " Hiawatha," these four winds are intro-
duced. Mudjekeewis, after a great encounter with Mishe-
Mowka, the Great Bear of the mountains, overcomes him. The
people proclaimed him ''Father of the AVinds of Heaven": —

For himself he kept the West WinrI,
Gave the others to his children ;
Unto Wabun gave the East Wind.

Young and beautiful was Wabun,
He it was who brought the morning,
He it was whose silver arrows
Chased the dark o'er liill and valley :
He it was whose cheeks were painted
With the brightest streaks of crimson,
And whose voice awoke the village.
Called the deer and called the hunter.

He felt lonely in the sky, '■ th(uigh the birds sang gailv to
him." But, gazing earthward, he perceived a lovely maiden.
He wooed her with his smile of sun.shine, and, folding her in
his robes of crimson, changed her into a star —

And for ever in the heavens
They are seen tOBether walking —
Wabun and the Wabun-Annung,
Wabun and the Star of Morning.

Captain ArgoU, who visited the Potomac in IGIO, heard the
following from a chief: — "We have five gods in all. Our
chief god appears often unto us in the form of a mighty
hare" (compare with the Michabo myth); "the other four
have no visible shape, but are, indeed, the four winds which
keep the four corners of the earth. "j

In the Iroquois traditions the four winds were imprisoned
by their Lord in the cave, or " Lodgings of Dawn." This
recalls the account given of the Latmian Cave, or " Cave of

* A tradition exists among the inhabitants of Melanesia, according
to which their god Qat tries to get Xight for the peoplp, who had
tired of perpetual day. He sent fowls to bring the Dawn, after the
departure of Night should make it necessary. Next day the Sun
crawled away west, and Night came creeping up from the sea.
"This is Night," said Qat. "Sit down, and, when you feci some-
thing in your eyes, lie down and keep quiet. ' So they went to
sleep When night had lasted long enongh, Qat took a piece of red
obsidian, and cut the dar/tness, and the Dawn came out (Prof.
Fiske, "Custom and Myth," p. 50). So that the idea of cutting
darkness is not peculiar to the Indian mvthclogy.

t Brinton, " Myths of the New World,'^' p. ICl. X •^*''/-

Night," in which Endymion (the sun) was supposed to sleep
at night.* The Thlinket tribes in their traditions and
myths '■ mention two heroes or gods, who existed " at the
beginning of time, .and procured for mankind all the ad-
vant.ages Ihej' now enjoy. The names of these beings or
demi-gods were Yeshl or Yehl, the ancestor of the Haven
clan, and Khenookh, the ancestor of the Wolf family .f

Yeshl was the creator uf all beings and things, and gavo
the sun, moon, and stars their places. His dwelling-place
is neare.st where the east wind Ijlows (called by the Thlinkets
" Ssannakke "). The Thlinkets imagine this jduce to be at
the source of the River Nass, which enters the sea near the
British boundary. The traditions are " that there was a
time when the world was not, and man lived in the dark.
A Thlinket had a wife and sister, and he loved them so
much that he would not let them work. He let his wife sit
the whole long day in the cabin, or outside upon a little
hill. She always had eight little birds about her with a
bright red colour, and if she spoke with any other Thlinket
the birds flew away and informed the husband." He became
so jealous, "that every time he went to the woods to build
canoes — in which art he was a great master — he placed his
wife in a box, locking the same." J:

Probably the hu.sband in this story is the sun, and his
wife the dawn. He leaves home in the morning, and in
the bright light of the sun the dawn disappears ; or,
according to the Thlinket myth, remains in her cabin at
rest. At evening the gorgeous rays of sunset are seen
reaching across the sky towards the sun, and these are the
eight birds, or messengers, who are bidding the husband, or
sun, to hasten home.

The Stakkin Thlinket tells a different story. At one
time the sun, moon, and stars were concealed in three sepa-
rate boxes, by a rich and powerful chief, who guarded his
treasures so well that nobody could touch them. Yeshl
heard of this, and determined to get them. By a series of
devices he obtained the boxes which contained the moon and
the stars, and set the latter in the sky. He could not
obtain the sun so easily, but, transforming himself into a
raven, he flew away to the sky. On the way he heard human
voices, but could not see the people, because there was no
light on earth. He asked the people to tell him where to
place the light, but they said : — '' You will only cheat us —
you are not Yeshl, who alone can give us light." In order
to convince the doubters, Ye.shl raised the lid of the box,
and at once the sun shone from the heavens in all its
splendour.§

Here we see that Yeshl is the dawn, who releases the sun
from night ; the box represents his imprisonment in the
darkness.

Among the Iroquois traditions an account is given by
Father Brebeuf, a Jesuit missionary, who resided among
the Hurons in 1G26, of loskeha and Tawiscara — meaning
the White One and Dark One, in the Oneida dialect. The
brothers quarrel, and the White One, or loskeha, conquering
his brother, returned to his grandmother, and " established
his lodge in the far ea.st, on the borders of the great ocean,
whence the stin comes." In time he became the father of
mankind, and guardian of the Iroquois.ll

In the Algonkin legends of New England the account of
Glooskap closely resembles the above. Glooskap engages in
a terrible conflict with his twin-brother Malsumis or Wolf.
" He sought him in the deep dark forest and smote him, so

* " Chips from a German Workshop.' Mas Miiller. Vol. II., p. 85.
t " Report of the I'opalation, Industries, and Resources of
Alaska," p. 166. By Ivan Retroff. Rublished at Washington, 188i.
t Ilnd.-p. 172.

!) "Reports of .Alaska," p. 17.3. 188-t.
IJ Brinton, " Myths of the New World," p. 184.

54

♦ KNOAATLEDGE ^

[January 1, 1887.

tliat he fell down dead." * This is again the victory of day
over night.

According to a Passamaquoddy myth, " Glooskap was
born in the land of the Wabanaki, which is nearest to the
sunrise," where he now dwells. Another story relates that
he came over the sea in a great stone canoe, and that
the canoe was an island of granite covered with trees.
" When the great man, of all men and beasts chief ruler,
who had come down from this ark, he went among the
Wabanaki." The Indian-English of the above is rather
obscurely expi-essed in the following words : " Gloosecap
hat left from ark, come crosse even wiht wabnocelel." f

COAL.

By W. Mattieu Williams.

'PPOSING all the difficulties of sinking de-
scribed in my preceding papers have been
overcome and the seam of coal is reached,
the work of sinking is not yet quite finished.
The shaft has to be continued downwards
through the seam itself, and a few yards below
that. This latter extension is to obtain a
" sumpf," or "sump," i.e., a well or tank for receiving the water
which makes its way through the sides of the shaft, and
will afterwards How from the workings. Until the works
are fairly opened, it is usual to draw the water from this by
means of a large iron bucket with a hole in the bottom,
which hole is plugged by a valve that lifts when the bucket
is immersed in the water and closes the hole by its own
weight, and the jiressure of water above when the bucket
rises above the level of the water in the sumpf.

The contrivance for emptying this large bucket when it is
drawn to the surface is simple and ingenious. Instead of
tilting it over (it is commonly 5 or G feet deep and a
yard across), the plug valve has an iron pin attached to its
lower part, and projecting like a short tail below the bottom
of the bucket. The bucket is drawn np and raised a little
above the surface of the ground, then a wide wooden trough
is slid under it, and the bucket is lowered so that the pin
strikes the bottom of the trough, thereby lifting the valve
and allowing the water to flow from the bucket into the
trough, which conveys it to the waste- water channel. When
the roads are made and the pit is in full work a pumping-
engine is erected for raising the water, a work which in
some cases is very costly.

As already explained, the pit is usually sunk at the lowest
part of the seam included in the "royalty "or area to be
worked from it, but for reasons that will be readily under-
stood, the working of the coal is not commenced here. In
the first place, if the coal were removed from immediately
around the shaft the ground would give way, and the shaft
itself become a ruin. Besides this the roads required to
reach the distant parts of the coal, and to biing it from
them to the pit would be liable to extinction by burial.
Therefore, the usual mode of proceeding is to begin at the
outer or furthermost boundary of the royalty, and work
backw.ards towards the shaft.

In order to reach this outermost portion drifts must be
cut to serve as roads for bringing the coal to the shafts, and
as channels for the water and ventilation. These are kept
sufficiently narrow in the immediate vicinity of the shaft to
leave a substantial mass of coal around to serve as a " .shaft
pillar."

In fome exceptional cases (as when an extension of the

* Leland, "Algonquin Mvtlis of New England," p. 17.
t Ihiil. p. 21).

royalty has been obtained after sinking the shaft) it is
desirable to work some of the coal on the deep side of its
incline from the shaft. The shaft itself is then sunk below
the extreme depth of the coal to be won, and a cross cut
made from it, enteiing the seam at a right angle or there-
abouts, so as to effect its drainage. Then the roads to this
portion of the pit descend from the shaft, and the coal has
to be drawn up them by engine power.

I need scarcely add that the roads of a coal mine are very
nairow-gauge railways. They are, in fact, the parents of
all railways, this form of iron road having been first used in
coal pits, and used there long before they came into practical
operation above ground. The iron rails were preceded by
wooden rails. The main road of a colliery is called a
" mother gate " by old colliers. This word "gate" is used
underground according to its ancient Scandinavian significa-
tion. Gata is the old Norsk or Icelandic for a way or
road. Gat in modern Norsk and Danish means an inlet
or opening. Our colliers in this, as in many other in-
stances, still speak the tongue of Thor, the hammer-bearing
god of the primitive miners ; have deviated even less than
the modern Scandinavians themselves. A gate in subter-
ranean Engli.sh is not the thing which bars the way, but is
the way itself. Similarly the Northern expression " gang
your ain gate " means go your own way, not your own gait,
as commonly supposed.

In driving a gate or road, whether horizontal or more or
less inclined, the Fame difficulty is encountered as in sinking
a single shaft. The air gradually becomes wor.=e and worse
as the driving proceeds, until at last special contri\'ances for
ventilation become necessary. Either the drift must be
divided by a contrivance similar to the brattice of a shaft,
or two parallel ways must be driven. The latter is usual,
a rib of G to 10 yards thickness being left between them.
The lower of these serves as the drain or " water gate," the
upper is the main road for men and waggons or the " way
gate." The side roads from the workings and the way-gate
are called " bord-gates."

Where the seam is thick enough these drifts are made be-
tween the thill or floor (Icelandic again, thilja) of the coal and
its roof. If the seam is above 6 or 8 feet thick, some of the
coal may be left above to form the roof. If, on the other
hand, the seam is too thin, the rock above the coal or the
floor below is cut away to give sufficient height. The width
of such ways is economised as much as possible, as every
increase of width increases the dangers of falling roof and
" creeping."

This creeping is very curious and instructive. I recom-
mend it especially to the attention of those mathematicians
who have gone a very long way from home in order to
determine the rigidity or viscosity of the earth's crust, and
whose very recondite calculations have so curiously con-
tradicted each other. As Sir William Dawson told us at
the last meeting of the British Association, " Hopkins,
Mallet, Sir William Thomson, and Professor G. H. Darwin
maintain the solidity and rigiditv' of the earth on astro-
nomical grounds, but diflferent conclusions have been reached
by Hennesey, Delaunay, and Airy." Sir W. Thomson espe-
cially contends that a great amount of rigidity is indicated
by the gravitation of the equatorial protuberance of the
earth upon the moon, and the moon upon the equatorial
protuberance.

A study of the phenomena of creeping would, I think,
supply more reliable results as regards the viscosity of the
outer crust of the earth, and show that its rigidity is over-
come by a pressure which, cosmically regarded, is very
small indeed.

This creeping is a gradual rising of the apparently solid
rock floor after the coal is removed from a considerable are,i.

January 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

55

Not only does the roof crush down, but the floor bends
upwards, owing to the transmission of the pressure of the
superincumbent rocks in all directions — that transmission
of pressure which constitutes the essential characteristic of
fluids. This occurs more or less everywhere, and in old
abandoned deep workings the roof and the floor ultimately
meet, unless the air or water confined between them is
unable to escape. Great permanent subterranean cavities
at considerable depths are, I maintain, impossible. As will
be seen presently, when I come to the methods of working
out the coal, this impossibility has caused us to leave behind
hundreds of millions of tons of good coal in our old mines,
to be hopelessly buried beyond human reach.

Five to ten feet is the ordinary width of main roads or
way-gates. Even this moderate width requires artificial
support by means of poles or logs of oak or larch, commonly
grown for the purpose in mining districts. These are cut
to lengths respectively corresponding to the height and
width of the road, two to height for each ore for width.
They vary from four to eight or ten inches in thickness.
The two that are as long as the height are placed u]5right
against the walls opposite to each other ; the one matching
the width of the road is laid across these as a cap or head-
piece. This is continued at intervals of three or four feet in
ordinary rock, but when the roof is friable, i.e., liable to
crack off in scales as the down-bending proceeds, it is
further protected by planks laid from one cap-piece to the
other. The expense of this timbering is a serious item in
ordinary colliery operations.

In some cases the main roads ai'e arched with brick or
stone, like railway tunnels, and even built with an invert
arch below to prevent the rising of the floor.

If the creeping or yielding to pressure wei'esuch as occurs
when homogeneous material, such as metal, is thus forced
to yield, no serious mischief would result ; a mere bulging
might be tempor.arily remedied by i-enewed excavation, but
the structure of coal and the other rocks of the coal measures
being either laminated or stratified, the bending produces
superficial disintegration or chipping off in flakes, which too
often are of sufEcient magnitude to maim, and even crush to
death, the man who is working below.

Outsiders hear of the wholesale catastro])hes where by
explosion of firedamp, or by the wrecking of a shaft, or by
the breaking into water accumulated in old neighbouring
workings, &c., man}' men are killed at once ; but the far
more serious danger to the coal-miner than any or all of
these, that of falling roof, is rarely heard of beyond the
immediate neighbourhood of the pits. The reason is simply
that killing and wounding from this latter cause happens to
only one man at the time. But the sum total of these
isolated aises, as shown by general statistics, tells a diflerent
tale from that of occasional newspaper reports.

In 1883 the loss of life from explosions in coal mines
amounted to 134; deaths in shafts, 97; at surface, 108;
miscellaneous underground, 2-lG ; falls of roof and coal,
469 — total, 1,054. Thus in this year fiiUs of roof and
coal killed three and a half times as many as explosions. In
certain years, when one or two great explosions have
occurred, the numbers killed by explosions reach or exceed
those killed by falling roof, but generally speaking the
fatalities from falling roofs amount to about double the
number due to explosions. The numbers wounded, in
many cases permanently crippled, by falling roofs is far
greater than those killed, as may be readily supposed. Of
these we hear little or nothing. It is not in the main roads,
but in the side workings or " bord gatts " where most of
these sad accidents occur. Usually an explosion kills its
victims with little or no suflfering, the carbonic acid and
carbonic oxide instantly resulting from the explosion are

an;esthetic in their action, and produce nearh' painless
suflbcation. The crushing accidents are of a peculiarly
painful chai'acter.

EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE.

By Ada S. Bali.ix.

ROOTS AND THEIR DEVELOPMENT.

CCUSTOaiED as we are to the use of lan-
guage in its present highlj- developed state,
with all its complications, it becomes
somewhat difficult for us to conceive a kind
of language constructed of roots — words
such as I described in my last ; but such a
conception is aided by observing how
diflerent languages run, as it were, on
diverging lines, so that it may be possible, beginning,
metaphorically speaking, at the most divergent points, to
trace them up to the point of juncture. " Long before
the age of Aryan separation the several relations in which
a word might stand in a sentence had been clearly evolved,
and certain terminations had been adopted and set apart to
denote these relations. The creative epoch had passed, and
the cases and numbers of the noun had entered on their
period of decay. But with the verb it was quite otherwise.
Here we can ascend to a time when, as yet, the Aryan verb
did not exist — when, in fiict, the primitive Aryan conception
of a sentence was the same as that of the modern Dayak.
Most verbs presujtpose a noun, that is to say, their stems
are identical with those of nouns."* For example, the
Sanscrit hhardvi-mi, Greek tit/te-mi, originally meant
•• bearing of me." '■ placing of me."

While the Ai-yan verb can thus be traced to a nominal
form, the Semitic verb was originally, and still remains, a
noun, whatever tenses and moods it has gained being of
comparatively late origin, and expressing not time but rela-
tion, whereas the Aryan verb from the fir.st moment of its
existence expressed time. In Hebrew, for example, which
may be taken as a type of Semitic tongues, the root, pure
and simple, is used to denote the third person singular of
the perfect, and the other persons are obtained by attaching
atfixes. The two so-called tenses, perfect and imperfect, are
used interchangeably to express either past, present, or
future. Thus Hebrew is a specimen of language composed
of nouns. To take an opposite example, in Algonquin
everything tends to verbal expre.'-sion ; adverbs and pre-
positions are regularly conjugated, and nouns are to a great
extent verbal forms — for example, house is "where they
live." The tendency of this language is to very long words,
the longest in Elliott's Massachusetts Bible containing
thirty-one letters and eleven syllables. It is icitf-appfisitu-
rjussun-7ioovjeht-unk cjuoh,\iteva.\\j, "he came to a state of
rest upon his bended knees, doing reverence to him." — (J. H.
Trumbull). The mere contemplation of it is overpowering,
and we turn with relief to apparently simpler cases.

The Eastern division of Polynesian languages, which have
alphabets containing not mor^ than ten, and often as few as
seven, consonants, their syllables being all open, composed of
single vowels or of a vowel preceded by a single consonant,
are polysyllabic, but have no inflections, expressing neither
gender, number, place, mode, nor person. Their- words are
impartially used without any change, as verb, substantive,
adjective, and even preposition. Their grammar is made
up of pronouns, indicative participles, prepositions, and the
like, and they possess nothing which can properly be called
a verb. In this we approach to the Chinese type of language,

* Sayce, " Introd. Sc. of Lang.," vol. ii., p. 150. See what follows.

50

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 1, 188i

ill which the word whit-li is practically a root may be used
indifferently as one and another part of speech. This type
it is which, as 1 have said, approaches most nearly to what
we may imagine to have been the primitive form of root-
language.

More than two thousand j'ears ago the Indian gramma-
rians had discovered that all the woi-ds of their language
could be traced back to certain jihonetic forms, which they
called " elements," and fierce controversy arose as to
whether the.se " elements," or, as we call them, roofs, were
verbal or nominal, whether the noun or the verb was the
older part of speech. But, as S.iyce observed : " We must
be careful not to fall into the mistake of the Indian
grammarians and their modern followers, and confound
these roots with verbs or any other of the constituents of
living speech. The roots of language are like the roots of
the tree with its stem and branches ; the one implies the
other, but all alike spring from the seed, which in language
is the undeveloped sentence of primitive man, the aboriginal
monad of speech." According to Sayce, roots " are the last
result of linguistic analysis, the elements out of which the
materi;il of speech is formed, like the elementary substances
of the chemist." *

When, however, I am in favour of the theory that the
languages of various families may be reduced by analysis to
one primitive form, namely, the root-word, I do not wish
this to be understood as a defence of the hypothesis of the
common origin of all languages ; for, as I have said already,
the universal similarity of physiological structure, as well as
many of the phenomena of external nature, are sufficient to
account for any resemblance which may exist between the
tongues of widely-diverging races.

In his rambling work on the " Origins of Religions and
Language," Canon Cook, supporting the theory of the
primeval unity of language, gives a list of two hundi-ed and
fifty words, which he maintains are identical in form and
meaning in Egyptian, Semitic, Aryan, and other families.
The resemblances are certainly in many cases very striking,
as the following instances will show ; but it will also be
observed that the majority of these words are imitative of
natural sounds, a fact which Canon Cook seems to have
overlooked. Thus in ancient ICgyptian ad is an ass, and
mau cat and lion; chefer (cJt like f(), sairabeus, omv chafer;
Cymric, cwyber and cirifio, onr quiver, czvnf meaning motion,
stir, representing the sound of a body shooting through the
air; Cornish ch^iyvyan, to escape; French esqu'iver; Old
High German chtvor, clieviro beetle ; in Middle High
( Jerman kever ; Anglo-Saxon ceafor ; Egyptian refref, a
worm, reptile, Greek erjjeton, from erpo, to creejj ; Sanscrit
srp or sarp ; Latin serpo and repo, imitative of sound
produced by peculiar motion of snakes. Egyptian amani ;
Sanscrit i/am ; New Zealand amu, to eat, swallow, imitative
of the sound of the closure of the lips after a mouthful has
been taken. Egyptian aiii/ or ank, to squeeze, embrace ;
Sanscrit anhu-s ; Latin anr/o, to throttle, representative of
the guttural sound produced by the person who is being
throttled. Egyptian pad or pat, to flee ; j^et-pet, to cause to
llee ; Sanscrit pa/, to tiee, fall down ; palao, a fall or w-ing;
pattrin, a bird, imitative of sound. Compare our patter of
rain or footsteps. Egyptian «,<, swift ; Sanscrit arna, a
horse, indicative of the sound of rapid motion through air.
Compare our word swisli, also Egyptian 6--«, or s-in-s, horse ;
Hebrew s^is ; African so, S((mar, so-sa, and so-si ■, so-mnsa, a
mare. Egyptian \aru, to wage war ; Sanscrit JiCira, war ;
hr, to .seize violentlj^, probably imitative of the rapid
breathing of a man or animal when springing on an
enemy or prey. Egyptian purasha and |)«ras/«j, to hew ;

* Loc. cit , p. ,'!.

Sanscrit parnrti, an axe, sound of cutting through wood.
Simil.irly, Egyptian shad, to cut ; Sanscrit cid (representing
ancient kh sound) ; Old Dravidian, ciit ; Zend s/ienda.
Egyptian fper, wish, request; Sanscrit spr/i, spark, to
desire; Latin spero ; Old Norse spir, to a.sk, imitative
of sound in breathing. Compare Latin spiro, I breiAthe ;
our to aspire, literally " to breathe after." In Hebrew the
the ideas of wishing or desiring are expressed by several
words, oi'iginally meaning to breathe — as, for instance, ava,
and imitative of sounds produced in breathing. Egyptian
kerer, to burn ; Hebrew charar ()(), the .sound of which
woi-d is very suggestive of the roaring sound of flames ;
Sanscrit yJiar, to shine; gharmes, heat; Zend f/ar.
Egyptian ash, lis/ibu, to consume; Hebrew esh, tire;
Sanscrit ush, to burn ; us/tiia, hot ; usltra, flash.
Egyptian shu, sun or, with a different ideograph, light ; Rig
Veda rue, shine, blaze ; riiki, shining, flaming; rush, ritsliia,
the demon of drought: cui/i»ia, flame; cihhumi, blazing;
Basque sii, fire, from the hissing sound of flames. Egyptian
ka, (ja, bull or ox ; kaul, cows; Sanscrit and Zend go, and
Egyptian be/ies. Coptic bahsl, anciently Egyptian ah, calf.
Compai'e Greek bous, bullock ; ox, cow, are probably derived
from sounds similar to those made by the animals. The
word mer in Egyptian is used in three different senses, with
different ideographs : it means — 1, to die ; Sanscrit mf or
mar, maras, death ; 2, to love ; 3, the sea ; Coptic meire,
lake, inundation ; Cornish mor, and Old Turanian mor,
meaning the Caspian Sea. In the last sense it is imitative
of the murLuuring .sound of waters.

More oljscure, however, is the ]5robable origin and rela-
tionship of the following words : — Egyptian dka or d(/a, to
consume by heat ; Hebrew ach {\), oven ; Sanscrit agni,
fire ; Egyptian bd, to shine brightly ; Sanscrit b/id ; Egyptian
rakJiu, to burn ; Sanscrit rue, Latin lucere ; Egyptian dam,
to subdue with violence ; Sanscrit dam., Latin domare, the
original meaning of which was probably to bind ; Egyptian
kan, to beat, conquer ; Sanscrit can or ksliait ; Egyptian
kuk, evening ; kak or kakiu, darkness, night; Sanscrit rdi/ci
for k/tdi/a, Latin ccpcus, blind ; Accadian gij and kug, dark-
ness; Finnish (/(', night; in the Veda used in the sense to
cover, tamas asit tamasd gudliam — " darkness was covered
with darkness " ; Egyptian »(«», ?»?«, to be steady, abide ;
Hebrew amen, Sanscrit man, puto ; Zend upaman, Latin
manere, Greek man, verily, in truth, like Hebrew amen,
also Greek men; Egyptian mdeh, measure, weigh, reflect;
Sanscrit ind/i, to measure; Egyptian mat, truth, justice;
Sanscrit, ma, measure.

It is not so easy in the latter instances to see the
imitative origin which we may conjecture to lie at the
root of the similarity in these words, but in inquiries
such as the present we must not lose sight of the fact
that words or signs (as I have shown when discussing
the language of the deaf and dumb) at first distinctly
imitative, after they have been adopted into language, and
when there is no longer a risk of their being misunderstood,
become conventionalised on the principle of economy of
effort. And again, we must remember the powerful imagery
of primitive minds, which, on the grounds of .some resem-
blance not aiiparent to our more analytic brains, will transfer
a word from one meaning to another ; so that, to take a
familiar example, the word driim, imitative of the sound of
sticks or hands beating on parchment, is applied to the drum
of the ear, the similarity in this case being the tightly
stretched membrane, and having no reference to sound. It
is necessary to make these observations, as the facts men-
tioned are persistently ignored by those who deny what I
have called the " natural origin " of language, in order to
ascribe it to the supernatural.

There can be little doubt that the earliest means by which

Jaxcary 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

57

mau sought to express his thought was, if I may so call it,

pictoiial. The untaught deaf and dumb, whose ideas are
mainly of aspects and actions, as I have shown, express these
ideas by gestures which are essentially representations, the
young child adds to its expressive gestures sounds which are
imitative, and which, being understood by the child's relations,
become words, sui-viving until supplanted by words in ordi-
nary usage. The language of the savage is to a gi'eat extent
made up of gestures, and hence everything would lead us to
believe that the primitive man, whose feelings, like our own,
were instinctively expressed, would endeavour to represent
his ideas, necessarily very crude, by illusti'ating them, ;xs it
were, representing aspects and actions of things by gestures,
and sounds by sounds.

^ly friend Professor Sayce h;is observed " There was a
time in the historj' of speech when the articulate or semi-
articidate sounds uttered by primitive man were made the
significant representatives of thought by the gestures with
which they were accomp;uiied, and this complex of sound
and gesture — a complex in which the sound had no meaning
apart from the gesture^was the earliest sentence."*

The Eev. J. L. Wilson, describing the Grebo language,
says it has pereonal pronouns, but they ar-e rarely used, and
whether the verb is in the first or second person and so on
is shown by gesture.

Fisher states that the Comauclies and neighbouring tribes
have " a language of signs by which all Indians and traders
can undei-stand one another; and they always make these
signs when communicating among themselves." f James
writes of the Kiawa-Kashaia Indians : " The nations,
though constantly associating together and united under
the influence of the Bear- Tooth, are yet totally ignorant of
each other's language, insomuch that it was no uncommon
occun-ence to see two individuals of difl'erent nations sitting
upon the giound and conversing freely by means of the
language of signs. In the art of convening theii- ideas they
were thorough adepts, and their manual display was only
interrupted at remote intervals by a smUe or by the
auxiliary of an articulated word of the language of the
Crow Indians, which to a verj^ limited extent passes current
among them."±

Xow the manual sign language, used alike by the unedu-
cated deaf mute and by the savage, is a pictorial language
imitative of the iispeots and n , tions of objects, and it is
therefore easy to believe that in those who could hear and
reproduce sounds vocal imitation would rank higli as a
means of communicating ideas. The human ear and vocal
organs, and the mind which uses them, are and always
have been much the same all the world over ; and that the
first words, wherever developed, were imitative words there
is little room for doubt. This interesting subject I shall
more fully discuss and illustrate in my next article.

A WHIST SUPERSTITION.

Br "Five of Clubs."

CORRESPONDENT (G. B.) sends us the
following amusing account of an episode at
the whist-table, and of the appearance, alive
and to some degi-ee kicking, of a very old
whist superstition, which we had supposed
to be dead : —

" The other night, while playing whist
with two \ery old packs of cards, misdeals were in conse-
quence frequent. One of our adversaries, after a misdeal,

* Introd. Sc. of Lang., vol. i., p. 116.

t Trans. Eth. Soc. (1869), i., p. 283.

t " Expedition to the Rocky ilouutains," iii , p. 52.

offered a bet that some one in the next hand would hold a
single card of some suit. My partner took the bet, but,
most curiously, no less than four single cards appeared.
Later on he offered two to one, after another misdeal, and
won again. I had not he;ird of the superstition before, and,
knowing that the appearance of single cards after dealing
^vith one pack cotild not be affected by a misdeal with
another pack, supposed it would arise from the fact that the
odds in any deal whatever would be in favour of some player
holding a single card. This idea was scouted ; so I went
into the question afterwards for my own satisfaction. I
should be glad to know if my calcidations are cori-ect."

Oiu- correspondent proceeds to ailculate the chances in the
following way : — He supposes a player to have a spade dealt
him first, and calculates the chance that as the rest of that
player's hand is dealt another spade will not be given him,
finding it quite correctly. He then multiplier that chance
by i for the several suits, which also is correct in principle.
And then he multiplies the resulting chance yet again by I
for the different hands, which is not correct ; coiTesponding
to the mistake of multiplying A, the chance of throwing
"ace" with a die at one cast, by 6, to get the chance of
throwing " ace " in six casts, getting 1 or certainty, which
is certainly wrong.

But the fact is, our correspondent's resitlt, 7 to 4 against
a singleton appearing somewhere among the deals, is far from
the truth. His method of calculation errs in this, that it
deals only with the chance of there being a singleton in the
suit from which the tust card de;tlt to a hand may chance to
come ; whereas a singleton may show, and is, of course,
more likely to show, in a suit which is not the first dealt to
a hand.

The superstition in question is a very old one. It appears
in Bohn's " Handbook of Games " in the following monstrous
form : —

" The degree in wliich whist is arbitrarily affected by the
cards may be gathered from the following fact (!) : — After a
misdeal, on dealing again with the same pack, one of the
players will, ni/ie times out oj' ten [the italics are very much
ours], hold at most but one card of one of the four
suits. How this comes to pass is a problem that remains
to be solved : whether the fact be so or not is of very simple
proof."

This, of course, outrages sense. Apai-t from the inherent
absurdity of the superstition, we have the absurd statement
that the fact can be readily tested. Xow misdeals do not
occur so often, nor have the results of deals after a misdeal
been so commonly or so carefully noted that the supposed
law can be readily or simply proved from any evidence
collected in the past. Imagine a whist party or club under-
taking to test the matter, wilful misdeals would of coiu'se
not count, and what a set of dufi'ers a whist party or club
must be which could in any retisonable time provide the
hundreds, nay the thousands, of real misdeals which would
be necessary to submit the supposed law to adequate
experimental test !

But the real chance of a singleton appearing in one or
other of the bands, or in more than one, at any deal, is so
much larger than most persons suppose that the birth and
gi'owth of a superstition of the kind can be readily under-
stood, so many having no idea whatever in these as yet un-
scientific days of considering causation. Doubtless our
correspondent's correct reasoning on this point was scouted
by the holders of the fancy he rejected. Yet probably they
were not weakminded fancies, which, for persons who con-
sidered causation would be to all intents and purposes
idiotic, are merely the results of a kind of lazy thought-
lessness in those to whom the idea of causation is un-
familiar.

58

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 1, 1887.

In reality, the odds at any deal are largely in favour of 4-13 (that is, a player may expect 4 singletons in 13 hands),
a singleton appearing in some hand or other. Even the We leave the proof of this till next month, when we will

chance of a singleton appearing in a hand taken at random
is much larger than many suppose — no less, in fact, than

give it as an exercise for the reader (the data will be found
at page 196 of our " How to Play Whist ").

MAP I.

HIGH NORTHERN lATm/DES
by IUch?APi:BcU)r.

MAP 6

„__^

The linear scale radially is uniform.

^'*^!^^

throitghouL , Ow. tJxurart scal^ is

~~~-^/^''**'S!>^

yVMter by- ^f5^ hal/'tvay to the «^f ,

JWrijIpttiJtnwteSj.^ ^^^S^^

anjl iy ^frj'^ at the exi^c .

^\/ s^^^^^/>^

K,

X"

V

^■'

vv

Scale of Miles at hurder ormap
square tn a.raeU}LS in, directum. .

■Small areas ore^reaier hy }&S ^Tud/"
yve^ to the cd^e , and. hy '/tt . at,
the edge .

Edwmeher,del.

Map I.— The North Polar Regions, on the Equidistant Projection:

Being the First Map of the One-Scale Atlas.

ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

"* for this atlas, and mapping each part, with convenient

NORTH POLAK MAP. overlaps, on one uniform projection, in such sort that the

Map No. I.— The Regions abound the North Pole. | scale is practically constant throughout. But we give the

WANT of space prevents us from giving this month, as first map of the series, whose relation to the others can be

we had proposed, an account of the method of recognised from the index maps in the November and

dividing the earth's surface into twelve exactly equal parts, December numbers of Knowledge.

January 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

50

THE NATURALIST'S LABORATORY.

Contribution V.

HE floors of houses are usually made in this
country of deal and other coniferous woods,
which ought to be well water-seasoned ; that
is, the timber, before it is sawn up into
planks, should be soaked in water until all
decayable and soluble matters are removed ;
pure lignin is thus left behind, and when
thoroughly and gradually dried aflbrds a material which will
not warp much upon the variations of temperature, nor
emit foul exhalations. But, from the chemical natiu-e of
wood in an unprotected condition, it is apt to imbibe
noxious gases, to store them, and to give them forth at
sundry times, but more especially when the moisture of
cleaning and swabbing is followed by an increase of tem-
perature for drying purposes. This pollution goes on very
gradually yet surely, and is a recognised fact amongst
sanitarians, whose work has been chiefly directed to the
construction of hospital wards, which require to be periodic-
ally renovated. With regard to ordinary dwelling-houses,
Prof. Dr. Jaeger says * : — " ^ly sister, resident in New
York, has told me that one of the best- known German
physicians in that city once remarked to her that no house
ought to be inhabited for more than SLsty years, but should
then be pulled down, as it is infected by all the diseases of
those who have ever dwelt there. He was right. Probably
ever}' reader has at some time or other, on entering an old
house full of woodwork, been struck by the unwholesome
smell. What is, then, to be done 1 My readers will
scarcely reconcile themselves to the radical remedy suggested
by the American physician, nor do I consider it necessary.
If all plain wood were to be thoroughly oiled or varnished,
I believe that old houses would no longer be haunted by
such evil spii-its."

M. Boulton's process of timber preserving is briefly
summarised by J. A. Westwood-Oliver t as follows : — " He
aims at removing the watery moisture in the timber present
at the time of injecting coal-oil : while he accomplishes this
without the resort to the excessive heat usually employed
in drying timber, which he thinks cannot be heated beyond
230° F. with safety, as at a temperature much exceeding
250° F. the woody fibre begins to be decomposed, and the
pyroligneous acids are distilled from it, warping and brittle-
ness being also caused. His process is based on the differ-
ence between the boiling-point of water, 212° F., and the
distillation-heat of creosote, which ranges from 350° F. to
750° F. By the old process the timber was placed in a
cylinder from which the aii- and moisture were partially
withdrawn by an air pump, and creosote heated to about
120° F. was introduced ; the action of the pump was then
discontinued, and pressure pumps employed to force the
creosote into the wood. M. Boulton introduces the creosote
at a haat slightly exceeding 212° F., and continues the
action .of the aii'-pump, thus drawing off' the watery vapour,
while the creosote is not vaporised. By this means wet wood
can be introduced into the cylinder. The logs float on the
creosote, which is heated as in a still, and the watery vapour

* This passage is quoted from a little volume entitled " Selections
from Essays on Health-Culture, and the Sanitar)- Woollen System,"
by Dr. Gustav Jaeger, M.D., Stuttgart, p. 120. It has been ably
translated and edited by L. Tomalin. The work is published by
" Jaeger's Sanitarj- WooUen System Co., Limited," of 42 and 43
Fore Street, London, E.G., for one shilling. It ought to be carefully
read, and should tind a place in the library or bookshelf of everj-
householder who values good health adequately.

t The lUmtrated Science Monthly, London, October 1885, vol. iv.,
p. 29, et teqxientei.

passes through a condensing worm. W^ood has been exhibited
thoroughly good after thirty years' use. Fences and posts
erected in 1855 and beech sleepers creosoted in 1856, with
nineteen or twenty years' wear, are perfectly sound."

But timber prepared after this fa.shion is not even sparingly
used for biuldings as yet, so that it behoves the householder
to turn his attention to ready expedients, and to convert
existing defective floors into sound and sanitary structures.
The upper floors of even some of the best mansions are
made of very imperfectly matched planks, so that large
interspaces permit of the entry of dust and dirt of the worst
description, there to fester upon the slightest favoumble
occasion and pollute the dwelling. " Carefully covered
floors, preferably lined with parquet, add to health ; the
flooring is preserved, it is cleanly, it is artistic. I may here
mention an incident which was related to me by Mr.
Howard, of the eminent firm of Messrs. Howard ife Sons,
Berners Street, Oxford Street, London, W. When ^Messrs.
Howard were laying the floors of Westminster Hospital,
they were first of all obliged to pull up the flooring in order
to match the boards ; they thus discovered over each joist
little conical mounds of dust — the accumulated filth of many
years. I have no doubt but that to these pigmy heaps is to be
attributed much of the permanent contamination of fever and
other wards where the cause of illness is due to specific germs,
which find their way into these collections ; and the septic dust
thus established is kept under favourable conditions of warmth
and moisture every time that the floors are washed and
dried.'' * Although parquet flooring is necessarily expensive
at first, it embraces many advantages of the greatest im-
portance to the cleanly maintenance of the laboratory. The
benefits to be derived from its adoption may be briefly
summarised as follows : — (1) Freedom from accumulations of
dust ; (2) the ease with which it can be cleansed; (3) when
washed with a wet cloth it does not absorb water ; (4) it is
beautiful and durable. But where the question of outlay
interferes with the employment of parqueterie, the floor-
boards ought to be accurately matched, or existing inter-
spaces should be carefully caulked, as on the deck of a ship,
not necessarily, however, with oakum and pitch, but with
such inexpensive materials as are always at hand. Old
newspapers boiled down in starch paste, with a small pro-
portion of glue and a little corrosive sublimate, serve
admirably. It may be applied in a plastic condition with
an ordinary putty-knife ; when dry, it does not shrink, but
forms a hard, horny-textured substance. The floor thus
prepared may be painted, bees-waxed, or covered with
preservative material, and if desired, additionally provided
with oil-cloth or linoleum. Carpets and rugs, as dust-
harbourers, should never be used.

To polish the floor with bees'-wax the following formula
may be adopted with success : — " To prepare wax for polish-
ing floors, 124 poimds of yellow wax, rasped, are stirred into
a hot solution of 6 pounds of good pearl-ash in rain-water.
Keeping the mixture well stirred while boiling, it is first
quiet, but soon commences to froth ; and, when the effer-
vescence ceases, heat is stopped, and there are added to the
mixture, while stin-ing, G pounds of dry yellow ochre. It
may then be poured into tin cans or boxes, and hardens on
cooling. When wanted for use, a pound of it is diffused in
five pints of boiling hot water, and the mixture, well stirred,
is applied while still hot to the fioor by means of a paint-
brush. It dries in a few hours, after which the floor is to
be polished with a large floor-brush, and afterwards wiped

* " On Health in the House." A paper read at the Conference
of the Society of Architects' Exhibition, London, March 5, 1885.
By J. Ernest Ady, Vide Building Kem, London, March 6, 188.i
vol. xMii.,p. .16l".

60

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE -

[January 1, 1887.

with a coarse woollen clotb." It is said that a coat wUl last
six months.*

Of preservative media, adapted to the floor of the labora-
tory, the two under-mentioned ai-e worthy of trial : —
1 . " Mix together boiled linseed oil and finely powdered
coal, to produce a substance of the consistency of paint.
Apply a coat of this to the floor." 2. " A mixture is made
in a metal pot of 40 parts of chalk, .50 resin, 4 linseed oil,
and 1 part of native cuprous oxide. One part of sulphuric
acid is cautiously stirred in. A sort of mastic results,
which may be applied hot, and when dry forms a vai-nish
hard as stone." t

In spite of every care, however, dust will creep into the
laboratory, from our clothing, boots, the wear and tear of
furniture and instruments, books, fireplaces, and lamps.
But when all the precautions noted above are carefully
observed, it will be found that occasional wiping with a rag
leaves the room practically clean and comfortable : and the
student will then be able to indulge in delicate dissecting
with the microscope and elaborate mounting of objects,
without any fear of danger from floating dirt, and with
a rapidity which would be impossible under any other
circumstances.

Under the name of the " Dust Inhaler," a very ingenious
contrivance has been devised and patented by a Mr.
Newton, whose specification is thus given : — " A horizontal
fan suspended and revolved in a hollow cone over a tray of
water, creating a partial vacuum in a small cylinder above
the fan, from which, and connected to it, an elastic tube of
any length, with a revoh-ing hair or other brush at the end
of the same, so that the brush loosens the dust, and the
cui-rent of air entering the partially-exhausted tube carries
the dust with it through the fan, and impinges on the
surface of the water ; the air then passes through perfora-
tions free of dust." | The apparatus is useful for sweeping
floors, carpets, footpaths, (fee. ; to dust walls, curtains, and
clothing; and, as it proceeds, collects the dust to deposit in
the tray of water : hence its value in the laboratory cannot
be over estimated.

LABORATORY FURNITURE.

The subject of laboratory furniture has received but a
modicum of attention in this country, although our Con-
tinental neighbours, and especially the Germans, have
made vast strides in this direction. The poor naturalist is
not even so fortunate as his chemical brother in this
respect, for whilst the latter can procure ready-made
furniture suited to his requirements, the former is invari-
ably compelled to make shift with what he can borrow
from various quarters — the kitchen, bedroom, and other
domestic sources — or is obliged to call in the aid of an
architect or carpenter to design and produce articles upon
the spur of the moment which are afterwards found to be
wanting in many essential details when they come to be
tested in the severe school of " mother experience." In
this way it often happens that articles of the most hetero-
geneous assortment find their way into hrs sanctum, and
give it more the character of a lumber-room than a well-
regulated workshop ; these remai-ks extended, it is to be
deplored, are, with but slight modifi&itions, equally applicable
to biological and geological laboratories in even some of
our modern universities and colleges. But chairs and tables,
cupboards and book-shelves, &c., do not constitute the sum
of all that is required for the adequate equipment of the

apartment ; there are also I'eagent stands and bottles of
suitable shapes and sizes ; vats and jars for decayable
specimens : boxes and cabinets for minerals, rocks, and
dry matei'ials ; aquaria for plants and animals ; a hot and
cold-water supply ; and rational wearing apparel for the
worker ; all of which call for description in this place rather
than amongst the instruments that are directly employed by
the student to assist him in his researches.

SOLUTION OF PUZZLES.

UZZLE XIII. It is required to divide abcd,
Ji'(/. 8, bi/ straight cuts into four parts, vyhicli
shall Jit in «flk {fiy. 9), a pctralleloyram
having the angle a equal to the angle A, and
its sides av, «K in a given proportion, by the
first of the turn methods employed for rectangles
in the last number.
In AB bxke E (fig. 11), so that ad : ae : : aK : ap. On ab
(towards dc) describe the circular arc afb to contain an

* The Illustrated Science Monthly, London, March 1885, vol. iii.,
p. 95.

t Ihi'/.. August 1885, vol. iii., p. 254.

I Patent Office Register, No. 14,050, a.d. 1884. ■

Fig 8

angle afb equal to the angle adc. (Complete the circle, for
future purpose, by the arc af'b containing an angle equal
to the angle dab.) Through e draw the chord fef' parallel
to ad; draw fb cutting DC in h ; and take fl equal to hb.
Complete the parallelogram aklf. Then I leave it to the
student to show by similar triangles aef, fab ; and by the
proportion da : ae : : an : av (fig. 9), that aklf is in all
respects equal to rdvLF. It will also be easy for him to see

r Fig. 9. "^

that if KM is drawn parallel to ad, the spaces numbered
1, 2, 3, 4 in ABCD are in all respects equal to the spaces
similarly numbered in aklf.

Thus ABCD is divided as required.

Puzzle XIV. — To do the like bi/ the second method em-
ployed for rectangles in, the last number.

Part of the construction is shown in fig. 11, af being the
shorter side of the rectangle required. We complete the
parallelogram aklf as in fig. 12 ; take bg equal to fl, and

FislO-

draw the parallels jg, car, cutting off also the small triangle
ghk equal to jfg in all respects. Then the parts of abcd,
numbered 1, 2, .3, 4, are in all respects equal to the parts
similarly numbered in aklf.

Note. Remarks similar to those made in regard to the
division of rectangles apply also to the division of these

January 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

61

equi-angled parallelograms — more cuts (or fewer) may be
required according to the proportions of the different rect-
angles. But no difficulty will bo found in extending the
construction to cases where one or other or both parallelo-
gi'ams have very unequal sides.

Puzzle XV. — To divide either of the rectangles abcd
(fig. 8) and aklf (fig. 10) hy straight cuts into three jiarts,
vjhich shall fit so as just to cover the other.

It will be obvious from a few moments' study of figs. 1 1
and 12 that the rectangle aklf in either figure can be

fit on the side kl, or those forming af/"' may be so carried ;
or those forming k/l or kZ'l carried over to fit on the side af.
In different ca.ses the number of cuts required will be
different. But we see that for the case referred to in the
puzzle, the only extra division line is a/, fig. 11, while the
cuts coiTesponding to aj, km need not be made. We draw

or -when, in the case illustrated by fig. 1 2, kTcXj cuts bc, and
a line is drawn from A to a point in kl between k and bc.
In the latter case the parallelogram formed of the pieces
will have a side equal to af, and not (as in the former case)
to ak. It will be observed that by such methods any
parallelogiam can be divided up into parts which shall fit
another parallelogram of any shape whatsoever.

divided as by lines \f, a/', kJ, kI' , in such sort that, by
dividing the corresponding parts of abcd in like manner
(which is done in both figures by light broken lines), the
parts of ABCD so obtained will fit on a rectangle having a/
or a/"', or nl or k^' as a side, the other adjacent side being
AK. For the pieces forming triangle af/' may be carried to

simply HE, a/, fig. 1.3, and fit the pieces numbered 1, 2, 3
in abcd upon kklf, as shown.

For the case corresponding to the side a/', fig. 11, for our
rectangle, we get the cutting shown in fig. 13 along khl, kl' ,
corresponding to Ah' and Id' on the parallelogram abcd.

Note. — We only get a division into three parts when the
extra dividing line runs as from a to a point in hl, fig. 11,

PUZZLES XVI., XVII., AND XVIII.

MAX has 687 oranges to send off", each of
irhich, in packing, is to be regarded as a
'2-inchglohe, and there must he no compression,
lie has three boxes apparenth/ equal; hut on
measuring their inside capacity he finds that
Xo. 1 has a base 11 indies square, and is
II ('ij inches deep; No. 2 has a base of
12 inches by Hi and a depth q/" lit inches; and Xo. 3 hns
a cubical interior llfV inches each way — length, breadth,
and de])th. He packed all his oranges in these three boxes.
0%ir three puzzles for this month are :—

Puzzle XVI. How did the man pack 200 oranges in box
Xo. 1 ? — 11 in. xll in. X lly^ in.

Puzzle XVII. How did he pack 231 oranges in box
Xo. 2 ?—Ul in. X Hi in. x lit in.

Puzzle XVIII. Hoir did he pack 256 oranges in box

Xo. .'i?— IK

xll

TiT

Xll

TTJ

■in.

In which of the three boxes was the packing closest ?

Spectra of a Variable Star. — At a recent meeting of
the American National Academy of Sciences,Professor O. T.
Sherman, of Yale, presented acatalogueof brightlines observed
in the diverse changing spectra of Beta Lyr«, the well-known
variable star. Sometimes all the bright lines are seen ; at
other times only part of them or none at all, while at times
the lines are all dark. Some of the spectra indicate the
existence of magnetism and other metals in the atmosphere,
in a free and uncombined state. The observations indicate
that a triple division exists in the atmosphere, the outer
layer consisting of carbon and hydrocaibons which occa-
sionally descend into a subj.acent layer of oxygen, and
undergo combustion and ultimately descend into the third
layer, where the intense heat again separates the products of
the combustion into their chemical elements. This theory
completely explains the difficult problem of the cause of
variability in the variable stars, since it is obvious that
periods of extensive combustion must be attended with
bright light which at other times are lacking. The observa-
tions were made by using lenses of great dispersive power
and diffraction gi-atings.

Mgr. Capel and a Kentucky Girl. — Mgr. C'apel was the
subject of a talk the other evening, the spokeswoman of the
party being the daughter of our ex-mini.ster to a foreign
court and a C'atholic. " I don't mean the man," she said.
" He is ill-mannered. It was this way : I was talking to
him and in some way referred to my youth, and said I had
been raised in Kentucky. ' But, madam,' he said, with
provoking irrelevancy, and in a tone of supercilious criticism,
' You should not say " raised." " Bred " is better ; we say .so
in England.' ' Do you 1 ' I answered with considerable
warmth ; ' well, I don't. In Kentucky we breed cattle and
horses and mules ' [and formerly niggers she might have
added] ' and we raise children.' Then I turned my back on
him quite as politely as he had begun the dispute and I felt
better." — Washington Post.

62

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 1, 1887.

THE SOUTHERN SKIES FOR MARCH.

THK SKIES OF SOUTHERN LATITUDES AND THE SOUTH
HALF OF OUK SKIES AT HOME.

TOWARDS the south in England we see, at the hours
named under the map, the skies shown in the map's
upper half. Along the horizon, due east, the Virgin is
rising : in the south-east a few stars of Corvus the Crow,

Travelling southwards, the voyager at the same seasons
and hours sees more and more of Argo towards the aouth.
In the manner described last month, the Centaur, the Cross,
and the Magellanic Clouds rise above the southern hoiizon,
precisely at the rate corresponding to the traveller's journey
southwards over a spherical surface. A study of the map
combined with the explanation given last month, will suffice
to show precisely liow the southern skj'scape varies at this
season, with the progress of the traveller towards the

Night Skies of the Southern Hemispheke for Maech.— For Index Map see opposite page.

and the whole constellation Crater the Cup, are seen. Due
south is a part of Argo, merely the poop showing above
our horizon; on its right the Dog Catds; Orion in the
south-west ; and beyond, towards the west, a part of the
River, Er id anus ; and the head of the fka. Monster, Cetus,
almost due west.

latitudes for which the map has been constructed. When
those latitudes have been reached, the stellar heavens are
presented as shown in the map, the centre marking the
point overhead, and the circumference the horizon.

Due south, below the pole, the Reacock, Favo, pleasantly
imagined by Lacaille as a suitable companion for the Indian,

January 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^^TLEDGE ♦

63

an Octant, an Altar, and a Triangle, stands natui-ally on its
liead. In the south-east we see the Centaur, offering the
Wolf, Lujnis, on the Altar, Ai-a, all being in extraordinary
positions, for Centaums is prone on his human face and his
equine chest and forelegs, while the Altar is inverted. The
Cross, C'ni.f, lies on its side, half-way between the horizon
and the point overhead.

On the western side of the south we see the Magellanic
Clouds, high up ; the Phoenix low down in the south-west.

galactic stream is interrupted, and two fan-shaped expansions
stretch out towards the dark gap.

Turning to the east, we see the Virgin, Virgo, low down ;
above her, Corvus, the Crow, and above that, slightly to the
left, the Cup, Crater. Hi/Jra, the Sea Serpent, of which
these two small constellations were once part, extends
athwart the mid-east towards the mid-north, near which we
see the Sea Serpent's head. In the north-east is the Lion,
Leo ; next him, nearly due north, is the Crab, Caiicer ; then.

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Night Skies of the Southebx Hemisphere foe Mabch, showixg the Southebn Half of our Northern Skies (Upper
Half of the Map) and the whole of the Skies in Southern Latitudes, at the following Times:—

At 10 o'clock, March 8.
„ 9| „ March 12.
„ 9' „ March 16.

At 9i o'clock, March 20.
„ 9 „ March 23.
„ 81 „ March 26.

At 8{ o'clock, March 30.
„ 8i „ April 3.
„ 8 „ April 7.

and the River Eridauus straggling along towards the west
and beyond ; besides several small constellations and parts of
constellations not very noteworthy.

Overhead is the Ship Arcjo, and the very interesting region
of the Milky Way, in the midst of the Ship, where the gi-eat

west of north, we see Gemini, extended horizontally; and,
passing along the zodiac, we come to Tauru$, extending low
and long, above the north-west horizon.

Nearly overhead, in the north-west, is Canis, the Dog,
with the splendid Sirius, shining more brightly, though less

64

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[January 1, 1887.

beautifully than in our northern skies, where his light is
always affected with the colo\iring due to atmospheric
undulations. Next, high in the west, is the small Hare,
Lejius ; and in the verj- middle of the north-west quadrant
of the heavens we see Orion, which alone of all these familiar
constellations is easily recognised, seeing that, whereas the
Lion, Twins, and Bull, the Dog, the Hare, and the Sea
Monster (low down in the west) present forms quite unlike
those we know, Orion with his gleaming belt stars and the
bright Betelgeus, Eigel, and Bellatrix at once shows himself
for what he is — the noblest constellation in the heavens.

ORIGIN OF COMETS AND METEORS.

By Richard A. Proctor.

OBSERVE that at the last meeting of the
Astronomical Society, my friend Mr. Ranyard,
remarking on the ejection theory of comets,
shows that the wideuess of the radiant area of
the Andromede meteors can be explained with-
out that theory — with which (I had pointed
out) it accords well. I should not wonder if
the peculiarity can be explained in another way, or in half a
dozen other ways. I have, however, never found in my own
experience, or noted in the experience of others, that a new
general truth can be reached by nibbling at details in that
way.

The theory of ejection was adopted as the only theory by
which the chemical, physical, and microscopic structure of
meteorites of all orders — from holosiderites to asiderites —
can be accounted for. They were certainly once exposed to
such conditions as exist only in the interiors of large orbs —
suns or planets. And as certainl}' they have somehow come
forth from such interiors. The expulsive force shown by
observation to reside in the only sun-like body we can
examine, indicates the only way in which such expulsion
can conceivably have been effected. Hence I infer (for my
own part I feel assured, knowing the weight of evidence)
that all orders of meteorites were expelled from some orbs
at some time when such orbs weie in the sunlike stage.
Generalising, I include in this theory all orders of meteors,
and find all their most characteiistic peculiarities explained,
and all ordere of meteor systems or comets, finding their
several orders thus and thus alone expli&ible (if we include
all suns now and in the past, all planets in all solar systems,
in their past sunlike state, among the sources of meteois
and comets).

No other general theory seems to me possible. Certainly
no other has been advanced. (Schiaparelli's capture theory
explains nothing, besides being dynamically impossible.)

This being so, to prove that some tiny little detail might
be reconciled with some imagined prior state of things,
which might or might not agi-ee with this general theory,
seems to me a waste of time, so far as the question of the
origin of comets and meteors is concerned.

I find the same fault in nine-tenths of the reasoning
emploj-ed in the discussion of general theoiies. The idea
seems to prevail that a theory may be established or over-
thrown by proving some bare possibility about some exceed-
ingly small detail. It is as though one were to show that
the movement of a particular piece of iron towards the earth
might have been caused by a magnet placed in such and such
a position, and thereupon were to say, " Where is youi- theory
of terrestrial gravity now ? "

Another wai/,'a,s the cookbooks have it — a method pecu-
liarly affected by some American astronomers I wot of — is
to show that one pai'ticular part of a theory will not explain

a group of facts which belongs to another part of the theory
— as, for instance, that the expulsion of matter from the sun
cannot explain the closed orbits of the Leonids or the paths
of comets nowhere approaching within many millions of
miles of the sun.

What has really to be considered in such a case is the
bearing of a general theory on the facts, many in number
and diverse in aspect, which suggested it, and which it is
intended to exjjlain ; not whether this or that fact can be
separately explained in some other way, or whether one
branch of the theory is able to explain the facts i-elating to
another. Why take up matters which can be explained in
a hundred ways, when we know that the really determinant
facts are those which Ciin only be explained in two or three
ways, or perhaps only in one l

A YANKEE AT KING ARTHUR'S COURT.

REPORT OF A DISCOURSE BY MARK TWAIN.*

flR. CLEMENS said that that which he was
about to read was part of a still uncompleted
book, of which he would give the first chapter
by way of explanation, and follow it with se-
lected fragments, " or outline the rest of it
in bulk, so to speak ; do as the dying cow-
boy admonished his spiritual adviser to do,
'just leave out the details, and heave in the bottom facts.' "
Mr. Clemens' story is the autobiography of Sir Robert
Smith, of Camelot, one of King Arthur's knights, formerly
a manufacturer of Hartford, Conn. Robert Smith says of
himself :

" I am a Yankee of the Yankees, a practical man, nearly
baiTen of sentiment or poetry — in other words, my father
wa.s a blacksmith, my uncle was a horse doctor, and I was
both. Then I went over to the great arms factory and
learned my real trade— learned to make everything, guns,
revolvers, cannon, boilei-s, engines, electric machines, any-
thing, in short, that anybody wanted anywhere in the
world. ... I became a head boss and had a thousand men
under me. Well, a man like that is full of fight — that goes
^vithout saying. With a thousand rough men under one,
one has plenty of that sort of amusement.

"At last I met my match ; I got my do.se. It was
during a misunderstanding conducted with iron crowbars
with a fellow we used to call Hercules. He laid me out
with a ci'usher alongside the head that made every joint uf
my skull lap over on its neighbour, and then the world went
out in darkness and I felt nothing more, knew nothing more
for a while, and when I came to again I was standing under
an oak tree and the factory was gone.

" Standing under an oak tree on the grass with a beau-
tiful broad country, a landscape spread out liefore me — all
to myself No, not quite, not entirely to myself. There
was a fellow on a horse looking at me — a fellow fresh out
of a pictui'e-book. He was in old-time armour from his
he;id to his heel. He had a helmet on like a cheese-box
with slits in it, and he carried a shield and sword and a
prodigious spear. And his horse had armour on, too, and
gorgeous silken trappings, red and green, that hung around
him like a bedgown to the ground. And this apparition
said to me :

" ' Fair sir ! Will you joust i '

* Delivered at the last meeting of tlie Military Service Institu-
tion, Governor's Island, General J. B. Fry in the chair ; Generals
W. T. Sherman and Bchofield on the platform.

Jaxi-ary 1, 18S7.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

fly

"Said I. -Will T which?'

" ■ Will voii jdiist ( Will you break a lance for land or
lady r

" Said J. ' What aie _von giving m;'? Vou go along back
to 3-oiu- cii'Liis. or I'll roporf yon.'

" Now what does this fallow do bnt fall back a conple of
hundred yards, and then come tilting at me as hard as he
could drive, his cheese-box down close and his long sjiear
pointed straight at me. I saw he meant business, so I was
up the tree when he arrived. Well, he allowed I was his
property ; the captive of his spear. There was argument
on his side and the bulk of the advantage, so I judged it
best to humour him, and we fixed up .an agreement. I was
to go along with him, and he wasn't to hurt me. So I
came down, and we started away, I walking by the side of
his horse ; and we marched comfortably along through the
glades and over brooks that I could not remember to have
seen before. It puzzled me ever so much, and yet we
didn't come to any circus, or any sign of a circus, so I gave
up the idea of a circus, and concluded he was from an
asylum. But we never came to any asylum, so I was up a
stump, as you may say."

And so the two wander on together, and amid scenes of
human life that aflbrd the author luany op[)ortunities for
quxint philosophic contrasts and dry humour, until they
came to C'amtdot, to the Court of King Arthur. Fanciful
and curious are the reflections of the transposed Yankee
about that place — which he at first thinks must be the
asylum — in its country of soft, reposeful summer landscape,
as lovely as a dream and lonesome as Sunday, where the air
was fill of the smell of flowers and the buzzing of insects
and the twittering of birds, and there were no people, or
waggons, or life, or anything going on.

A'ery vividly he portrays the scene at C'amelot, where
King Arthur, with his knights, sits at a round tab'e as big
as a circus ring, and three hundred dogs fia;ht for bones
around them ; while the musicians are in one gallery high
aloft, .and the ladies in another. But before he gets in there
he seeks information from a plain-looking man in the outer
court, saj'ing to him : " ' Now, my friend, do nie a kindness.
Tell me, do you belong to the asylum, or are you just here
on a visit, or something like that '] ' And he looked me

over stupidly, and said : ' Marry ! Fair sir ' ' Oh ! '

I said, ' that will do. I guess you are a patient.' To
another he said : ' Now, my friend, if I could see the head-
keeper just a minute — only just a minute.' He said :
'Prithee do not let me.' 'Let you what?' 'Do not
hinder me, if the word please thee better.' And he was an
under-cook, and had no time to talk, though he would like
to another t me, for it would just comfort his very liver to
know where I got my clothes.'

Then another — a lad — aime to him, saying that he was a
page. " ' Oh ! go along,' 1 said ; ' 3-ou ain't more than a
paragraph.' " The page happened to mention that he was
born in the beginning of the year 513.

" It made the cold chills creep over me. I stopped and
said, a little faintly, 'Now, may he I didn't hear you just
right. Would you say that ngain, and say it slow ? What
year did you say it was ] ' — ' The year 513.'

" ' And, according to your notions — according to your
lights and super.stitions — what year is it now 1 ' — ' Why,' he
said, 'the year 528, the 19th of June.' Well, I felt a
mournful sinking of the heart, and muttered, ' I shall never
see my friends again — never see ray friends any more ; they
■won't be born for as much as a thousand years.' "

The speaker had often been interrupted by laughter, but
fit the originality and fun of that conceit his auditors
laughed until they cried, and kept on laughing with renewed
outbursts over and over again. How the 'cute Yankee

determined to get at the bottom facts about the year by
watching for a total eclipse of the sun, that ho remembered
the almanack of 1884 had spoken of as having occurred
in 528, will have to be learned from the book when it
ap|)pars.

" I made up ni}' mind to two things. If it was still tho
nineteenth century, and I was amongst lunatics and couldn't
get away, I would boss that asj'lum or know the reason why,
and if, on the other hand, it was really the sixth century, all
right. I didn't want any better thing; I'd boss the whole
country inside of three months, for I judged I'd have the
start on the best educated mau in the kiagdom by 1,300

years But I'm not a man to waste time, so I said to

the boy : ' Clarence, if your name should happen to be
Clarence, what's the name of that duck, that giiioot, who
brought mo here 1 ' "

The galoot turned out to be Sir Kay, the seneschal. In
the natural course of the story came tlie charming desciip-
tion of the interior of King Arthur's castle, leading up
to a royally funny account of the competitive lying of
the gallant knights about their feats at arms. The trans-
posed Smith looked upon the knights as a sort of " white
Indians," admired their bigness and their simplicity, and
eventually concluded :

•' There didn't seem to be brains enough in the entire
nursery to bait a fishhook, but you didn't min<l that after a
little while, for you saw that brains were not needed in a
society like that, and would have marred its symmetry and
spoiled it."

Everybody goes to sleep when Merlin reels off" that same
old story about Excalibur. (Juinevere makes eyes at Laun-
celot in a way that would have got him shot in Arkansas.
King Arthur orders the Yankee to go to some unknown
place not down in any map, capture a castle, kill the colossal,
saucer-eyed ogre who owned it, and release sixty royal prin-
cesses. Of course he went, but he reflected.

" Well, of all the d d contract.s, this is boss ! I

oflered to sublet it to Sir Launcelot, to let him have it ninety
(lavs, with no margin ; but ' No,' he had got a better thing.
He was going for a menagerie of one-eyed giants and a college
of princesses."

It occurs to him finally, after wondering if a compromise
with the ogre wouldn't work, simply to go back and tell the
king with artistic circumstantiality of detail, that he was
killed by the ogre. He does so, and, of coui-se, the king and
his knights, who are used to swallowing each other's huge
lies, readily take in hi.s, and a brilliant career opens before
him as the boss liar of the court.

He took ,a contract iVom King Arthur to kill ofl' at one
of the great tournaments fifteen kings and many acres of
hostile armoured knights. When, lance in rest, they charged
by squadrons upon him, he, behind the protection of a
barbed wire fence charged with electricity, mowed them
down with Catling guns that he had made for the occasion.
He found that the "education of the nineteenth century is
plenty good enough capital to go into business in the sixth
century with," and the next j'ear he was running the
kingdom all by himself on a moderate roj^alty of 40 per
cent.

He spoiled the ogre business ; cleared out the fuss and
flummery of romance, and put King Arthur's kingdom on a
strictly business basis. Inside of three and a half years the
improvement was complete. Cast-iron clothes had gone out
of fashion. Sir Launcelot was running a kind of Louisiana
lottery. The search for the holy grail had been given up
in favour of a hunt for the north-west passage. King
Arthur's 140 illustiious knights had turned themselves into
a stock-board, antl a seat at the round table was worth
30,000 dols.

66

KNOWLEDGE

[.Tascary 1, 1887.

By Richard A. Proctor.

I SHALL ba%-e remarks to make later about a sundial for
mean time and a tellurium described and pictured for me by
two correspondents, and about a question relating to Euclid,
Book I., 32, and Axiom 12, by another.

I GIVE this month, as illustrating Americanisms not
only of words but of manner, an account of a humorous
lecture delivered by Mark Twain a few weeks ago iu Xew
York. The " Xotes " will be continued next month. There
is in any case no occasion to hurry with the alphabetical
treatment of Americanisms, seeing that modes of expression
supply quite as good illustrations of the way in which our
cousins across the Atlantic speak English as mere words.
The reader of Mr. C'lemens's amusing address will find
several illustrations of American peculiarities, and of modes
of speaking which, if not absolutely peculiar to America, are
more commonly to be noticed in the States than in the
old country.

* •* *

I am reminded for a moment of the peevishly ignorant
ci-iticism in the Saturdai/ Ffvieir some time back. A new
■weekly, speaking of my remarks thereanent, .says that I
interrupted my notes to "go for" that critic — as Americana
sjiy. I would invite attention to the fact that most of what
I said related directly to Americanisms. My critic's ignor-
ance of the subject gave me occasion to explain correctly a
number of words which he had blundered over. Except in
not being alphabetically arranged, the words " Gum," "' Use,"
" Peart," " Horse Fiddle," and a number of others, belonged
as truly to my " Notes on Americanisms " as any in former
articles. I was interested myself to notice how much more
occasion there was for explanation of Americanisms than I
had supposed ; since here was one who at least pretended to
know something of the subject falling into mistake .after
mistake about the simplest, and, I had .supposed, the best
known, American usages.

^ ^ ^

PoE the rest, the Saturday Etvkic ciitique illustrated
well what I formerly said in these pages in comparing
anonymous detraction to dynamite. For though the weak-
ness of the style, and the ignorance in regard to details,
sufficed to assure me the article was not written by anyone
worth considering, certain coincidences led me to the mis-
taken idea that points had been suggested by one of very
different quality. I suffer the annoyance of having made
this mistake, and of having so caused annoyance to others
whom 1 greatly esteem. All which would have been pre-
vented if the SaturJdij Eevieir criticisms were signed, or if
at least the columns of that pajier were open to an occasional
line of remonstrance or explanation.

* * *

I leaex, however, with satisfaction and some amusement,
that the proprietors of the paper have recently had a lesson
in this respect.

T(t ^ ^

What a strange system it is, anyway, by which, in the
case of all works really the product of long and careful
labour, criticism is often entrusted to writers who have
given scarcely any time and attention to the subject. A
man shall give twenty years to some special study, and
present the result of his work in book form : then does
John Noakes or Thomas Styles, sitting down quickly,

proclaim that ''While 'we' find a good deal that is

interesting in this work, we must point out that the con-
clusions of the author are not such as will commend them-
selves to men of science," neither John Xoakes nor Thomas
Styles knowing more about the opinions of men of science
than they do about the subject of the treatise whose leaves
they have perhaps just cut, but quite possibly not.

There is a mistake in my article on earthquakes
(Knowledge for November, p. 2) by which my argument
about the pressure of the atmosphere is badly weakened. I
had calculated the difference of pressure for two inches
change in the mercurial barometer. But while the article
was waiting to be sent off to England, I received a telegram
from the editor of the Xorlh American lievieio asking me to
send him an article on the earthquake, and in that article I
dealt with a difference of only one inch in the barometer.
(The article appeared in the October number of that
magazine.) It occurred to me then that it would be far
better to adopt the same difference in the article I had
written for Knowledge. I supposed I had made the neces-
sary corrections ; but I remember a visitor called while I
w-as making up matter for Knowledge, and I can only
suppose that I was interrupted after I had halved the pres-
sures, and before I had halved the differences in the
barometer. If the reader will complete the alterations at
p. 2 by writing one inch for two inches throughout, the
statements will be made correct. The strength of the argu-
ment will be doubled — not that I think this greatly matters,
as 100 millions of tons are as far beyond our power of con-
ception as 200 millions. Still, it is well to be accurate
in such statements. I\ly wish to be moderate led to the
mistake.

A CORRESPONDENT referring to Knowledge (p. 16), Nov. 1,
1886, says : —

It was not Augustine but TertuUian who said "credo quia impos-
sibile est." The expression occurs somewhere in bis treatise
" De Came." I have not the exact reference .it hand, but the pas-
sage is well Ijnown.

* * *

The correction is just. I was for the moment thinking
of Augustine in another connection. His special weakness
before, as he puts it, " an incredible conflagration was en-
kindled within him " by the treatises of divers Platonists,
was to require demonstration of things spiritual, not merely
to be shown they were possible, far less to know they were
impossible, before he accepted them with fulness of faith.
In his tract " De utilitate credendi " Augustine came near
Tertullian's paradox in the " De Carnc Christi." Augustine
is, of course, the greater of the two, though he might have
written even such a saying as Tertullian's, seeing that, as
was well said of him, he sports with Punic arguments, fear-
ing to sicken the reader with tedium of his verbosity (lectorem
lie mult'doquii tiedio /astidiat, Punicis quihiisdam argutiis
recnare sokt).

* * *

Another correspondent writes as follows : —

You say in Knowledge, July 1 (in article on Americanisms)
that " Diimpy, for sad, is about as old Engli?h as can well be,'
which may be true enough, although I am not aware of its occur-
rence in any writer earlier than about 1530-40 ; but you are unques-
tionably in error in quoting the ballad of " Chevy Chase " as evidence
of its antiquity, for the old orir/inal ballad (written probably not
long after the battle, which was fought in l.'iSS) has nothing what-
ever about " dumps " and Witherington fighting "on his stumps."
The lines you mention are only to be found in the modernised
version, which was certainly not made till some time after 1600,
and [is] therefore no authority on "old English."

January 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

67

I AM obliged for the note ; but it involves no correction.
Tlie beginning of the seventeenth century would be quite
old enough to show that " in the dumps " and " dumpy "
are not Americanisms but old English. In reality the
usage must be much older. I suppose the passage referred
to as belonging to about 1530-15-10, is Surrey's

My sinews dull in dumps I stand.

(Surrey died in 1517.) Of course this use of the word by
Surrey shows that it was a familiar word in his day, and it
may fairly be regarded as already an old word then. But
as a matter of fact, its derivation from the Norse domp or
dunij) would sutiice to prove that it is Old English as well
as old English, which last was all I said of it. "The
dumps " would be equivalent to " the vapours." Chaucer in
the " Nonnes Preestes Tale " speaks of one who needs
purging '• of melancholic," as " replete of humours bote."
Dumps, i.e. damps, humours, vapours, all equally imply
gloom.

* * *

The verse about Witherington in the ancient version of
"Chevy Chase" (which T have long known by heart), runs
thus : —

For Witheringlou my lieart was wae,

That ever he slaine should be;
For when both his legs were hewn in two,

Yet he kneol'd and fought on his knee.

(The poet seems to have striven to make Witherington some
amends by throwing in an extra foot in each of the last two
lines.) In the comparatively modern version, quoted by
Addison in apparent ignorance of any older one, we find
Witherington's sad lot dealt with less poetically : —

For Witherington needs must I wail,

As one in doleful dumps ;
For when his legs were smitten off.

Ho fought upon his stumps,

* * *

We s^hall do such of our readers as may not have seen
the December number of the Fortnightly Review a service
by calling their serious attention to Professor Huxley's
article on " Science and Morals " in that journal. It is a
reply to a charge by Mr. Lilly that the Professor, together
with Mr. Herbert Spencer and the late Professor Clifford,
agree in setting aside as unverifiable everything which the
senses cannot verify, or which lies beyond the bounds of
physical science, or which cannot he analysed in the
laboratory. If Mr. Lilly has read with dua care and com-
prehension Professor Huxley's essays on " Descartes " and
" Berkeley," on " Sensation and the Sensiferous Organs,"
and notaljly the celebrated essay on the " Physical Basis of
Life," it is difficult to acquit him of wilful misrepresentation
of their writer's consistent attitude towards what is commonly
understood by materialism. Professor Huxley has, how-
ever, an easy victor}', and we are inclined to thank Mr.
Lilley for having educed a manifesto as to the non-atheistic
and non-spiritualistic character of science, truly so-called,
the permanent value of which cannot be overrated. The
paper is worth reading for its crispness, clearness, and dignity
of style alone, and as to the matter, let it be read and
re-read until it is thoroughly assimilated.

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge" aa a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To tlie East Indies, China, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &c 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Egypt, the Subscription is 7s. 6d,, as heretofore.

The Methods of Glass-Blowing. By W. A. Siiexstone.
(London: Rivingtons. 1886.) — With the exception of the
directions given in a treatise which appeared many vears
ago, and then only existed in the form of two or "three
unbound sheets, nothing worthy of the name of instructions
in glass-blowing have appeared since those given by Faraday
in his "Chemical Manipulation," first published in 1827.
Mr. Shenstone then has supplied a very real want in the
little book before us, and has earned the gratitude of all
students of chemistry and physics by his simple and well-
illustrated description of the methods adopted in the con-
struction of all such glass apparatus as is ordinarily in use
in the laboratory. He begins by describing the few and
simple tools and materials requisite ; explains the difference
between lead glass and soda glass ; and then initiates the
beginner in the simple operations of cuttin<r, bending,
widening, and piercing tubes, and teaches him how to blow
bulbs and grind stoppers. In a subsequent chapter the
knowledge thus acquired is directed to the production of
complicated pieces of apparatus, and the work concludes
with an account of the way in which glass vessels and
tubes are graduated and calibrated. An appendix gives full-
sized sectional diagrams of the various glass tubes pur-
chasable, with their trade numeral designations appended.
We have two tiivial faults to find with this capital little
book. The first is, that its author's description of the blow-
pipe and its adjuncts applies solely to that form in which
gas is used, and is, therefore, of use only to those resident in
towns. The second complaint we have to make is that every
measure in the book is given in millimetres, centimetres,
and the like, the honest English inch being as absolutely
ignored as the Chinese chid. When the metric system is
made compulsory in this country, it will be quite time
enough to make this cheaj) display of learning.

Circular Work in Carpentry and Joinery. By George
CoLLiNGS. Weale's Series. (London : Crosby Lockwood
& Co. 1886.) — Mr. Ceilings has made a real contribution
to technical education in the work before us ; and the joiner
who will thoroughly master its contents will possess an
amount of knowledge but too rare among his confreres, and
hence be in a position to demand the highest remuneration
that his trade affords. Both the theorv and practice of
curved work in timber are explained intelligently and intel-
ligibly by our author, who, beginning with the most simple
examples of single curvature (such, for instance, as .segment-
headed window frames and the like), leads his pupil through
others of gradually increasing complexity to such master-
pieces of carpentry as domes, and ogee and apsidal roofs.
Mr. Collings's mathematical illustrations of the principles
underlying the construction of the various pieces of work
he describes are in no case beyond the apprehension of any
moderately well-educated artificer ; and, in short, both
theoretically and practically, his book leaves nothing to be
desired. But we do wish that he would not write minutes
and seconds of arc for feet and inches.

lIoiK to develop General Vocal Power. By J. P. Saxd-
LANBS, M.A. (London : Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, &
Ivivington. 1886.) — While primarily, apparently, addressed
to stammerers, for whose cure the major part of the exercises
it contains are intended, Mr. Sandlands' volume may also be
recommended to all who wish to read distinctly and im-
pressively. His vocal gymnastics seem to be well adapted
at once to remove vocal impediments in those suffering from
defective articulation, and to improve declamatory power in
those not so afHicted. It may be profitablj' studied by both
the stammerer and the would-be orator.

68

♦ KNOVS^LEDGE ♦

[January 1, 1887

Through Dark to Light. By A. Eubule-Evans. (Lon-
don : Wyman i Sons. 1S8G.) — In a series of detached
poems, the author of " Through T>ark to Light " gives a
picture of the passage of the Son! from Pessimism through
suspended judgment to Optimism. His imagery in places
is fine, and his versification very superior indeed to the mass
of rhyme whicli flows so copiously from the press nowadays.
Whether, though, liis kigic is equal to his poetry, the reader
must judge for himself.

Heroes of Science. P/ii/sicists. By Wm. Gaenett, M.A.,
D.C.L. (London : Society for Promoting Christian Know-
ledge.)— The "Heroes" whose biographies are given in Dr.
Garnett's most readable and pleasant volume are Robert
Boyle, Benjamin Franklin, Henry Cavendish, Count Puim-
ford, Thomas Young, Michael Faraday, and James Clerk
Maxwell — men sufficiently removed from each other in time,
social position, and surroundings to render them typical.
t)ne excellent feature in the work before us is that its author
contrives to interweave an account of the discoveries of the
men whose lives he is writing with merely biographical
detail proper, thus rendering his essays at once valuable and
interesting. It is sad to think that the results of Cavendisii's
marvellously exact experiments in determining quantitatively
the ertects of electricitj' remained buried in manuscript for
nearly ninety years, and that Faraday, in total ignorance
of their existence, went over a great deal of the ground
previously traversed by his predecessor — onlj', of course,
to rediscover what had been established in the last
century. Surely this affords a pregnant illustration of
the evil attendant on the suppression or long post-
ponement of the appearance of scientific memoirs. It
was our intention to have quoted certain passages
from more than one of the chapters in Dr. Garnett's
book, but we will not forestall the pleasure of the reader
(whom we heartily recommend to obtain it) by doing so.
Anyone seeking for an a]ipropriato Christmas present for
an intelligent youth could hardly do better than purchase
this new volume of the " Heroes of Science " straightway.

Electricity in the Service of Man. From the German of
Dr. A. E, VON Urbanitzky. Edited by E. Wohsielf,,
D So., M.A. With an Introduction by John Perry. M.E ,
F.E.S. (London : Cassell & Co. 18S6.)— In the excellent
and very interesting introduction prefixed to the work
whose title heads this notice, Profes.sor Perry invites atten-
tion to the noteworthy fact that, prior to about the year
1870, there were really no text-books on the science of
electricity. Works in vogue prior to that date contained,
it is true, recapitulations of Franklin's speculations on the
nature of electricity, descriptions of electrical machines and
voltaic batteries, and of the pretty and brilliant experiments
which might be performed by their aid, etc. ; though, as he
procL^eds to say, such volumes were usually only redeemed
from worthlessness by some account being given of Faraday's
experiments ; concerning which readers found that the main
outcome of Faraday's work was the Euhmkorff induction coil,
whose important function was to illuminate Geissler's tubes
for children's parties. How Dr. Everett, Sir William Thom-
son, Fleeming Jenkin, and Clerk Maxwell showed in what
manner measurement and calculation could be applied to
the elucidation of electrical phenomena, and how thenceforth
invention and discovery proceeded jiari passu with increased
theoretical knowledge, is forcibly pointed out. Mr. Perry
then goes on to elucidate the fundamental idea of " poten-
tial," and, by reasoning analogically from the behaviour of
flowing water, to show the diflerence between electricity and
e'.ectrical energy ; concluding with a table of the various
electrical magnitudes. This model preliminary discourse
forms, however, a mere short preface to Dr. von Urbanitzky 's
practically exhaustive treatise, which forms a true monu-

ment of German skill, patience and thoroughness, occupy-
ing, as it does, N-t5 pretty closely printed pages, and
containing no less than 83tj well-executed wood engravings.
(_»f these pages, iiX are devoted to the history and prin-
ciples of electricity and magnetism, and the student, being
supposed to have mastered them, is then introduced to the
technology of electricity, to which the remainder of the
work is devoted. Here will be found the most minute
description of the various apparatus employed in rendering
electricity subservient to economical purposes ; and the
general reader may fjimiliarise himself with the construction
and use of the difl'erent forms of dynamo-machine, with those
of the electric telegraph, telephone, microphone, and phono-
graph, with every variety of electric lighting, with the
apparatus emploj-ed in electro-metallurgy, with the utilisa-
tion of electricity as a motor, and, in short, with those
numerous practical applications of electricity to the wants of
our daily life which are becoming so rapidly more and more
important and frequent. This is a book without wliich no
physical library can be held to be complete, containing as it
does between its two covers the sum and substance of
numerous volumes. To the student it may be commended
as an admirably full and clear introduction to the science
and art of electricity ; while to the advanced electrician it
will be found of almost equal value as a book of reference.
It is furnished with that desideratum a capital index.

Ilandbooh of Acoustics. By T. F. Harris, B.Sc, F.C.S.
(London : J. Curwen & Sons.) — Mr. Harris has produced
a very thorough little book, and within the compass of 247
pages contrived to impart, in simple and perspicuous lan-
guage, a large amount of information on the subject of
acoustics generally. Although primarily addrss.sed appa-
rently to those studying the theory of music, a large part
of the volume must possess equal interest for the student
of general physics. Our author intimates in his preface
that a master)' of the contents of his work will enable a
candidate to work papers in certain examinations. We
think (seeing what the word '• examination " ordinarily
connotes) that he does himself a certain amount of injustice
in this. His " Handbook of Acoustics " is much too good
to be used as a mere cram-book.

CnsselFs Public School French Reader. By GuiLLAl'ME S.
Conrad. (London, Paris, New York, and Melbourne :
Cassell k Co.) — This graduated series of exercises for read-
ing exhibits certain alterations and modifications, typo-
graphical and otherwise, which we cannot but regard as
imiirovements on previous works of a similar character.
Certainly they ought to enable the beginner to read French
better and more intelligently than he is now taught to do.

Watch and Clock-makers' Ilandlooh. By F. J. KhitteN.
Sixth edition. (London : W. Kent k Co. New York : E. k
F. N. Spon.) — Very little more than two years have elapsed
since we spoke in words of commendation of the first edi-
tion of Mr. Britten's excellent haudbook (Knowledge, vol. v.,
p. 2->0), and already the sixth edition is on our table. Nor,
considering the care with which its large amount of hetero-
geneous contents is brought up to date, is this to be won-
dered at, and we trust that even the twentieth edition may
yet reach us for notice.

Ilhistrated Lectures on A nibulance Worlc. By E. LawioN
Egberts, M.D. Second edition. (London : H. K. Lewis.
1886.) — Here is the second edition of another book, admir-
.able in a very different way to that just noticed; the first
edition of which we have also previously reviewed (Know-
ledge, vol. viii., p. .53). We can only here reiterate the
praise which we bestowed on Dr. Eoberts's work when it
fir.st appeared, and add that in its latest issue it has been
partly i-emodelled, and that a good deal of fresh matter,

January 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

69

together with six new illustrations, have been iidJed. This
little volume addresses everybody who is ever likely to
suffer from an accident or to be present when one happens ;
and its careful study may save many a precious life.

BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Charlii' Luchen at School and CoUeije. By Rev. H. C.
Adams. (Hodder &, Stoughton.) — The incidents of this
story of school life aie laid in the early part of the
present century, the ugly social troubles of which are
vividly portrayed. Apart from these, there is abundant
excitement in the nan a live to ensure it a welcome among
books for Christmas holiday reading, while the name of
the author is guarantee fur the absence of mawkishness and
the presence of wholesome tone.

^i Flood that led on to Fortune. By Old Boojieraxg.
(Hodder it Stoughton.) — This is a stirring story of the
battle of man agaiust nature in the great rainfall of 18G1 by
a writer who has long held the tield as a graphic narrator of
life among the Australian squatters. Both works are well
illustrated and attractively bound. The same commendation
as to their get-up applies to the books of the season issued
by Messrs. Blackie k. Son, who are in their accustomed
front place witli a batch of axpital stories. Among these
we may give prominent welcome to Mr. Henty's Wiiti Wolfe
in Canada, which, witli one Jim Walshman, smuggler,
sailor, and soldier, as the hero, tells the story of our
victorious struggle — charged with momentous is.sues —
against the French for supremacy in the Xew World.
lieeffr and Fifleman, by J. Percy Groves, is a tale of
the two services in the early years of this century, with
plenty of adventure in humorous setting. Tales of CaplicUi/
and F.cile is concerned with the more sombre bat interesting
record, from antiquity to modern times, of the imprisonment
or exile of men, good and bad alike, who had the courage
of their convictions, and suffered accordingly. The same
publishers have issued handsome reprints of Mr. George
Macdonald's At the Back of the Xorth Wind and Ranald
Bannermans Boyhood, while for the children who have
found delight in these standard favourites a feast of good
things is provided in ^liss Alice Corkran's Dovn the Snoir
Stairs. These lead to Dreamland, where — as in the Persian
Avesta, the soul of the good man is confronted by a fair
maiden, who reveals herself as his good thoughts and deeds
in life ; or, as in the fabled hell, the vices of men pursue
them like Nemesis — Kitty, the heroine, meets troops of
children to whom is meted that which they measured out
to dumb and weaker things, till Love sets them free. But
the moral is never obtruded to the obscuring of the story,
the charm of which is increased by Mr. Gordon Browne's
fantastic illustrations.

Turning from fiction to sober history, we may commend
Triie Stories from Fnf/lish Ilistori/ (Griffith tt Farran),
selected from writers of all schools — tlie Venerable Bedc,
Froi.ssart, Macaulay, and Thackei'ay— by INIr. Oscar Brown-
ing, himself an historical student of no mean repute. In
Oitilines (if Jeirisli Ifisfori/ (Longmans) Lady Magnus tells
the history of her people from Bible times to the present
day, and we are glad to have the momentous events stretch-
ing from the period of the Exile to the period of modern
toleration grouped in convenient compass and piesented in
agreeable style. Such compression of vast material is more
laborio\is than its exjiansion, and Lady Magnus has done
her ta.«k extremely well. The outline sketch of Spinoza is
admirable, and the significance of his philosophy on all
subsequent thought pointed out.

The Slori/ of the Nations. — Carthage. By Professor A. J.
Church. (Fisher L^nwin.) — The learned author, whose

familiar renderings of Homer and other ancients place the
non-classical reader under no slight obligation to him,
remarks that "the stor}' of Carthage is mainly a story of
war," and consequently the narrative of her offensive and
defensive battles by sea and land, till her final conquest and
demolition by Piorae, fill nine-tenths of this book. The
remaining tenth tells us what little can be known about the
internal history of the city, her institution.s, her commerce,
and her art, borrowed, as this was, like that of Phwnicia,
from Greece. The work could not have been entrusted to
more competent hands, and will take equal rank with its
predecessors in this useful series.

Legends and Fvpulir Tales of the Basque Feople. By
Mariana Monteiro. (Fisher Unwin.) — These legends are
full enough of the marvellous to make the book, with its
weird illustrations, popular ; but from the standpoint of folk-
lore it must be pronounced a disappointment. The tales
have lost their simplicity of diction, and the spontaneity
which is their charm, through recasting into literary form,
while the absence of any comparative treatment leaves us in
the dark as to their historical relation. The book may,
however, be read with advantage as supplemental to the
collection of legends of the same unique and interesting
peoj)le gathered by the Ecv. Wentworth Webster, and pub-
lished in 1877.

Tlie Ilistorij of the Fortij Vezirs ; or, the Story cf the
Forty Jlorns and Evis. Tianslated by E. J. W. Gibb,
M.B.A.S. (George Redway.) — The history of this cele-
brated Turkish romance has been fully discussed by Mr.
Clouston in his " Book of Sindibad," and we await with
interest INlessrs. Blackwood's jjublication of that author's
forthcoming work on the profoundly interesting subject of
the ^Migrations and Transformations of Popular Tales and
Fictions. Meantime, we are grateful to Mr. Gibb for the
present collection, which has for its well-worn and ungallant
theme the weakness and frailties of woman. The frame-
work of the story is the unjust accusations of a spiteful
queen against her .stepson, whom the king orders to be
slain, but who.se death is averted by the wisdom of the
king's vezirs. Every night the crafty woman tells the
king a .story which incites him to slay the prince, and in
the morning, when he is led forth to execution, a vezir tells
a story which calms the king's anger. This goes on for
" forty morns and eves," when the innocence of the prince
is proved, and the queen's deceit exposed. Mr. Gibb's
translation is pleasant to read, and an appendix of sup-
plemental stories, together with tables of their place in the
various texts, make his work a valuable addition to our
materials for the study of Oriental romance.

Lnck or Cunning 1 By Sasiuel Butler. (Triibner
ik Co.) — "Op. 8" is, according to its supplemental title,
" an attempt to throw additional light upon the late Mr.
Charles Darwin's Theory of Natural Selection." It should
rather be described as an attempt tD throw additional
vitriol on ^Ir. Darwin's reputation as a man of science,
and, .still more, as a man of honour. Mr. Butler, as is
well known, has an old-standing quarrel with !Mr. Darwin,
and with those who speak well of him, the grounds of
which have been stated ad nauseam in Ops. ."i to ."i, and in
'•Seloiitious from Ops. l-(j." And we are at a loss to under-
stand what [mrpose is sei'ved by this wearying reiteration of
a charge which it seems to us was disproved in a letter
from ^Ir. Darwin himself, published in Mr. Butler's
"Op. ."),"" Unconscious Memory." Certain parts of Mr.
Butler's " Life and Habit," erratic as were its conclusions,
made us expect great things from him, had he submitted his
fantastic imagination to the rigidity of biological fact. But
he has disappointed us, and we regi-et that so extremely
clever a man. whose writings are full of good and true

70

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[January 1, 188T

things pithily said, should obscure their goodness and
truth under the verbiage of personalities, which disfigure
this book even more than his earlier works.

Messrs. Longmans send us a choicely printed and cheap
volume of selections from Jean Ingelow, under the title of
Lyrical and Otlier Poems. We are glad to have some old
fiivourites in this compendious form. \^e have also on our
table Thu Anatomj/ of Negation, by Edgar Saltus (Williams
and Norgate) ; The Parental DonH; and Bazaars and
Christicmiti/ (Walter Scott) ; Life after Death ? by F. W.
Newman (Triibner it Co.) ; Mr. Cole's always instruc-
tive Jlicroscojjical Studies ; The Illustrated Handbook of
Victoria (Ferres, Melbourne) ; A Froebel Beading Primer,
by A. C. Beale (Sonnenschein & Co.) ; The British Almanac
and Companion, for 1887 ; The Antiquarian ; The Century
Magazine, the most valuable feature of which is the Life of
President Lincoln, by " Pike Ballad " Colonel Hay and J. G.
Nicolay ; Longmans Magazine, in which Miss Orme fails to
meet the powerful arguments of Dr. Eichardson as to the
necessity of woman, if she elects to do man's work, resigning
the normal functions of maternitv.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR JANUARY.

S the present quiescent state of the solar surface the
sun affords but scant interest to the observer with
the telescope. He is in perigee— i.e., the earth is at
the nearest point in lier orbit to him— at 8 P.ir. on
Januan- 2. Hence at this date his disc is apparently
larger than at any other time. The night sky is
shown on map i. of " The Stars in their Seasons."
Minima of that remarkable variable star Algol ("The
.stars in their Seasons," map xii.) will happen at
6h. 36m. P.M. on January 1, at llh. L'9m. P.M. on the IStli, at
8h. 18m. P.M. on the 21st, and at 5h. 7m. P.M. on the 2tth, and on
other dates, when it will be unobservable by the ordinary amateur.
Mercury is a morning star throughout January, and is, moreover, so
very low down, and so close to the sun towards the end of the
month as to be practically invisible. Venus is an e\"ening star.
Daring the earlier part of January she is, to all intents and pur-
poses, invisible too ; but towards the end of the month, on a
perfectly clear evening, she may be caught after sunset glittering
above the horizon in the S.W. by W. Mars is absolutely invisible.
Jupiter is a morning star. As he does not rise until after 2h. lom.
A.M. at the beginning of January, nor until half an hour after
midnight on the 31st, he can hardly yet be regarded as an object
of observation for the ordinary amateur. Saturn, on the contrary,
is admirably placed, coming, as he does, into opposition to the siin
at 2 P.M. on the 9 th. He is in fact visible all night long, and
during the major part of it is most favourably placed, his meridian
altitude in London exceeding CP. The attentive observer will note
the slight closing of his ring system, and that the south pole of the
planet no longer falls within Cassini's division in the rings. Saturn
is in Gemini (" The Stars in their Seasons," map ii.) to the south of
Castor and Pollux. Towards the end of the mcmth he will be in the
same telescopic field as that well-known double star 3 Geminorum.
Uranus, as a morning star, will scarcely come into view for our
purpose for the next month or two ; but Neptune continues visible
during all the earlier hours of the night. He is situated in a blank
part of the sky, a little less than fii° south of the Pleiades (" The
Stars in their Seasons," map i.). The moon enters her first quarter
20 5 minutes after noon on the 2nd, and is full at lOh. 32-3m. on
the night of the 9th. She enters her last quarter at 3h. 22m. P.M.
on the IGth, and is new at 3h. 1-lm. in the early morning of the
21th. No less than fourteen occultations of fixed stars by the
moon will occur at convenient hours for the amateur during the
present month, in addition to others during the morning ones.
On January 4, n Ceti, a star of the 4th magnitude, will disappear at
the moon's dark limb at Sh. 28m. P.M. at an angle of 87' from her
vertex. It will reappear at her bright limb at 9h. 33m. P.M. at a
vertical angle of 348'. On the 5th / Tauri, another 4th magnitude
star, will disappear at the dark limb of the moon at 5h. 21m. P.M. at
a vertical angle of 48^, to reappear at her bright limb at 6h. 24 m.
P.M. at any angle from her vertex of 293'. On the 6th, 71 Tauri, of
the 6th magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb of the moon at
6h. 50m. P.M. at an angle of 359° from her vertex. It will reappear

at 7h. 7m. P.M. at her bright limb at a vertical angle of 334''. Later
at 7h. 47m. p.m. fl' Tauri and fl- Tauri, both stars of the 4rth
magnitude will disappear at the moon's dark Umb at 7h. 47m. and
7h. 54m. p.m. respectively ; the former at an angle of 68°, and the
latter at one of 47° from her vertex : fl' Tauri will reappear at 9h. 2m.
P.M., and fl- Tauri at 8h. 55m. p.m. at the bright limb ; fl' at a vertical
angle of 295'; 9- at one of 310°. Later, the 5th magnitude star
B..^.C. 1391 will disappear at the dark limb of the moon at 9h. 2in.
P.M. at an angle of 108° from her vertex, reappearing at her bright
limb at lOh. 19m. P.M. at an angle from hervertexot 289°. Finally, the
most important occultation of all on this prolific night will occur
17 minutes after midnight, at which hour .\ldebaran will disappear
at the dark limb at a vertical angle of 165°. It will reappear the
next morning at Ih. 15m. at the bright limb, at an angle of 283°
from the moon's vertex. The student should endeavour particularly
to observe this occultation both at the disappearance and reappear-
ance of the star, inasmuch as the curious phenomena of projection
on the moon's disc, &c., during occultations have been nearly always
recorded in connection with this particular one. On the "7th, 115
Tauri, a 6th magnitude star, will disappaar at the dark limb at
8h. 53m. P.M., at a vertical angle of 95°, reappearing at the bright
limb at lOh. 6m. P.M., at an angle of 261° from the moon's vertex.
On the 9th, B.A.C. 21.32, of the 6Hh magnitude, will disappear at
7h. 6m. P.M., at an angle from the vertex of the moon of 1U6°. It
will reappear at 7h. 40m. P.M., at a vertical angle of 175°. The
disappearance will in reality occur at the dark limb of the moon,
but she will be so nearly full that the effect will be that both limbs
will appear to be bright at disappearance as well as at reappear-
ance. On the 12th, 45 Leonis, a star of the 6th magnitude, will
disappear at the moon's bright limb at 9h. 11m. p.m., at a vertical
angle of 83° ; to reappear at her dark limb at 9h. 50m. p.m., at
an angle of 171° from her vertex. Later on, p Leonis, a 4th magni-
tude star, will disappear at the bright limb at ] Ih. 29m. P.M., at an
angle of 61° from the lunar vertex. It will reappear 30 minutes
after midnight at the dark limb, at a vertical angle of 199°.
Passing over several occultations which happen during the morning
hours, we come to the 2Sth, on which date 4 Ceti, a 6th magnitude
star, will disappear at the d.ark limb of the moon at 7h. 16m. P.M. at
an angle of 179° from her vertex. It will reappear at her bright
limb at 8h. 13m. p.m., at an angle from her vertex of 296°. Subse-
quently, 5 Ceti, another 6th magnitude star, will disappear at the
dark limb at 7h. 42m p.m., at an angle of 196° from her vertex, to
reappear at 8h. 26m. P.M. at a vertical angle of 281°. Finally, on
the 30th, V Piscium, a star of the 4^th magnitude, will disappear at
the moon's dark limb at Oh. 24m. P.M., at a vertical angle of 185°,
and will reappear at the bright limb at lOh. 15m. P.M., at an angle
of 289° from the vertex of the moon. At noon on January 1 the
moon is in Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.) ; and about
6 o'clock in the evening she enters the extreme contines of Cetus,
whence she re-emerges into Pisces at about the same hour on the
2nd. She travels through Pisces until 10 P.M. on the 3rd, when she
arrives at the most northerly outlier of Cetus, and again enters that
constellation. When she finally quits it at noon on the 4th it is to
pass into Aries. Her passage through the last-named constellation
occupies her until 4 P.M. on the 5th, at which hour she crosses into
Taurus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). In her journey across
Taurus she arrives at 8 A.M. on the 8th on the boundary of the
narrow northern part of Orion. When by 7 o'clock the same
evening .she has traversed this, it is to pass into Gemini ("The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). She is travelling across Gemini
until 9 A.M. on the lOth, when she crosses into Cancer. It
takes her until 7h. 30m. P.M. on the 11th to traverse the last-
named constellation, which at that hour she quits for Leo.
Here she remains until oh. 30m. A.M. on the 14th, and then enters
Virgo (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.). Her passage across
Virgo occupies until 8h. A.M. on the 17th, when she crosses the
boundary into Libra (■' The Seasons Pictured,'' plate xxvi.) In
her journey through the constellation last named she arrives, at 3h.
.\.M. on the 19th, at the edge of the narrow northern spike of
Scorpio. Nine hours and a half later she has passed over this and
entered Ophiuchus. She leaves Ophiuchusfor Sagittarius at 7h, A.M.
on the 21st, and Sagittarius, in turn, for Capricornus, at Gh. P.M. on
the 23rd (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.). She is travelling
through Capricornus until 9h. P.M. on the 24th, at which hour she
enters Aquarius, a constellation which she never leaves until
lOh. P.M. on the 27th ; to pass into Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxii.) In her journey through this great straggling constella-
tion she (just as at the beginning of the month) passes into a part
of Cetus at midnight on the 2Sth, to re-enter Pisces at 2h. ."^ M. on
the 30th. At 5h. 30 A.M. on the 31st she also, for the second time
this month, re-enters a part of Cetus, to come out in Aries at
llh. P.M. on the 31st ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). She
is, of course, in .Vries when om' notes terminate.

January 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

71

(!Fur WBWt Columiu

By "Five of Clubs."

MATHEWS OX WHIST,

{Continued from page 22.)

EFORE you play a card, sort your hand carefully,
look at the trump card, and consider the score of
the game and strength of your hand. Form
yoar plan on ihe probable situation of the cards,
being prepared, however, to change the plan
should anything fall to indicate a different one.
After deciding on your plan, never look at your
hand till it is your turn to play. Without atten-
tion to the board, no maxims in practice can
ever make a tolerable whist-player.

Never lead a card without a reason. It is better to have a wrong
reason than to fall into a habit of playing at random.

At the commencement of a game, if you have a good hand, or if
your adversaries are considerably advanced in the score, play a bold
game : otherwise a more cautious one. [This rule requires some
moditication. If you have a good hand and you and your partner
are considerably advanced in the score, it is better to play a
cautious game, because the object of a bold game is to get many
tricks, and you want but few — on the supposition — to win. Again,
if you have a poor hand, and your adversaries are considerably
advanced in the score, your first object should be to save the game,
which requires cautious play, directed rather to securing the odd
tiick, or so many tricks as may be necessary to prevent the enemy
going out, than to secure a winnirg game. The rule should rather
run, then — If the enemy are well advanced in the score, and you
have a good hand, so that there is little danger of losing, play a
bold game ; but if your hand is bad and the enemy well advanced,
play more cautiously. This I imagine is what JIathews really
meant, as otherwise his rule as a whole (with its perplexing " if
otherwise") is altogether misleading and barely intelligible.]

The best leads are from sequences of three cards or more. If you
have none lead [in general] from your most numerous suit. It is
seldom right to lead from a suit in which you have a tenace. With
Ace, Queen, &c., of one suit. King, Knave, Sec, of a second, and the
third a weak one, the best play is to lead from the last. [This is no
longer the opinion of the most experienced whist-players, who under
such circumstances would lead a small card from the lowest suit, or
the Ace if holding five in that suit.] If strong in trumps, lead
rather from a suit heads d by a King than a Queen. But with three
or four small trumps, I should prefer leading from a single card to
opening a long weak suit.

It is hardly necessary to point out that while the old school seldom
led a singleton, except with length in trumps, regarding it as a
dangerous lead, the modern school objects to the singleton lead
under nearly all cii'cumstances. But the modern school would be
more in sympathy with JIathews than with the old school, for
Mathews's idea clearly is that with a few small trumps and a bad
hand you can lose nothing by ruffing if you get the chance, and
may make a trick or two, or possibly find your partner able to join
in a cross-ruff. The chief danger, that which has practically divided
the modern school against the singleton lead, even uniler these com-
■paratively favourable conditions, is this — the chances when you are
weak in trumps and in hand are that the enemy's combined strength
surpasses your partner's, both in trumps and in the suit in which you
hold a singltton ; if this be the case, your singleton lead shows them
just what to do to make a long scire. They extract trumps, use the
suit in which they have length and strength effectively against you
and your partner, and probably render any other good cards he may
have in otlier suits useless to him, while you are powerless to help
him. By keeping back your singleton, you keep back also the
knowledge necessary to put them in the way of thus using their
strength for your destruction.

Another ca^c in which Mathews considers that you may lead a
singleton seems less obviously objectionable.

As I have ventured to recommend occasional deviations from what
is considered one of the classic maxims, advising the lead from a
single card without that strength in trumps hitherto [he refers, of
course, to the oldest of old schools] judged indispensable to justify
it, I give the reasons that influence my opinion in favour of this
practice, with those generally alleged against it, lea\ing the reader
to determine between them. Two objections are made, which, it
cannot be denied, may be, and are at times, justified by the event.
The first is that, if your partner has the King of the suit guarded,
and the Ace behind it, he loses it ; which would not be the case if

the lead came from the adversary. The second and most material
is, that your partner, if he wins the trick, may lead out trumps, on
the supposition that it is your strong suit ; or the adversaries may
lead out trumps, suspecting your purpose. On the other hand, the
constant and certain advantages are the preservation of the tenace
in the two other salts— which I suppose you to have [this, however,
was not what his prior advice as worded would have suggested] —
and the probable one of making your small trumps, which you would
not otherwise do. If the leader has four small trumps ; Ace, Queen,
&c., of the second suit ; King, Knave, sc<:., of a third ; and a single
card of the fourth, I am of opinion that the chance of winning by
leading the single card is much greater than that of losing tricks ;
and I appeal to those who are in the habit of attending whist-tables
whether they do not frequently see the players who proceed more
exactly according to the maxims of Hojle. Sec, after losing the
game, try to demonstrate that this ought not to have happened, and
that they have been vanquished by the bad, not by the good, play of
their adversaries. I do not recommend, in general, leading from
single cards, unless very strong in trumps ; but, with such cards as
I have mentioned, I am convinced it may occasionally be done with
very great, though not with certain, advantage.

Of course the case here considered is very different from that
which had before been mentioned. It may be admitted that the
singleton lead from such a hand would be safe, or even in playing
for the odd trick, good policy. The fault of the play would resids
not in its undue darina', but in its undue caution. With such a
hand a trump lead would be the best. You have necessarily a long
suit, if not two, and both well guarded. Should your partner not
be strong in trumps, or well guarded in your singleton suit, you
remain with three, or at the least with two, trumps wherewith to
ruff the singleton suit — and you have all the better chance of doing
this, that the enemy, noting your trump lead, will not be anxious
to extract trumps. But the chances are that either your partner
has strength in trumps, or he has at least some strength in j'our
short suit ; in either case your lead is a safe one. Should he have
any strength in trumps, and two rounds be taken out, you and he
have an excellent chance of making a good score.

[We shall see presently under what conditions Mathews recom-
mends the trump lead; but now pass on to consider his detailed
advice in regard to the leads.]

With Ace, King, Knave, and three small trumps, play out the
Ace and King ; but with only two small trumps, play the King,
and wait for the finesse of the Knave. In other suits, without
great strength in trumps, or with the chance of making a particular
point [if the finesse is successful] do not wait lor the finesse.
[Mathews here, and in the next rule, advises the Ace lead first,
as a general rule — for the lead of the King is only authorised by
him when you propose to wait for the finesse, and when, therefore,
it is necessary to show j-our partner you hold the leading card,
and wish the suit led to you. He evidently considers that in
plain suits, when you do not wish the suit returned, it is better
to lead the Ace first.]

With Ace, King, and five others, lead the Ace in all suits ; but
with four or less, lead the lowest in trumps. [The rule is only
changed in our time, in that the King is played from the head
sequence in the former case, and the fourth best, or penultimate, in
the latter, except by the staunch opponents of penultimate and
American leads. We still adopt the point of strategy, leading a
small card from Ace, King, and fewer than five small cards in
trumps.]

With Ace, Queen, Knave, Sec, lead the Ace in all suits. With
Ace, Queen, ten, and others, in trumps lead a small one ; but in
plain suits, with Ace, Queen, ten, and two others, lead the Ace
unless very strong in trumps. [.Mathews so words the rule as to
leave it in doubt whether he means in the last case Ace, Queen, ten,
and three others, or Ace, Queen, and three small ones. Probably
his rule was tlie same as ours — Ace first from Ace, Queen, and three
small ones ; only he notes the exception, which mo.st of our modem
books fail to mention, that with great strength in trumps you
should lead a small card in the plain suit, whether you open the
plain suit first or after taking out a round or two in trumps.]

With Ace, Knave, and small ones, lead the lowest in trumps.
In other suits, with Ace, Knave, and more than two small ones, lead
the Ace, unless very strong in tramps. [Sound advice, both as to
rule and exception. It is clear my reading of the preceding rule is
correct.]

With Ace and four small ones, lead the lowest in trumps ; the
Ace in plain suits, unless you are very strong in trumps. [With Ace
and five small ones, lead a small cird in tramps ; but with six small
cards, lead the Ace.]

{To be continued.)

72

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[January 1, 1887

(Bnv CDfg£J Column.

By " Mephisto.'

EVEREXCE for the past is not a characteristic
trait of the present generation of chess players.
We may, however, always find something
interesting, to reward us for our pains in turning
liver the sere and yellow leaves of the rhess
literature of old. Jn looking backward tor
inspiration for the New Year's chess article,
I made a virtue of necessity, which I am pleased
to call reverence for the past. Tlie necessity
may, however, be practically explained by a remarkable falling off
in the production of good chess in this country. This falling oft
can be accounted for partly by a large decrease in first-class pla\',
owing to circumstances affecting some individuals who formerly
played good chess professionally. Going still deeper into the causes
of this failing, we are bound to come to the conclusion that the
enthusiasm for chefs which animated many of the great plaj'ers of
the past, and which, in connection wilt fatient and laborious
study, produced such fine results, is gradually disappearing. The
pressure on man's mind is far more severe than it used to be
formerly, and the demand on his physical energy in the struggle for
life is so much greater, and as a man must possess an easy and free
mind, and plenty of leisure time to pursue chess ardentlj', I have
grave doubts whether we shall in this or the next generation find
such noble votaries of chess as Philidor, Labourdonais, Staunton,
MacDonnell, Bilguer, Van der Lasa, Andersen, Paulsen, Morphy, &c.
In looking over some curious examples of old compositions, I
came across a verj' interesting and useful position, composed by a
Cambridge man, given in the diagram below. In this problem a
mate can be forced by any one of White's five pieces. There can
be no more useful exercise than an attempt at solving this piroblem.
In order to do so, we must conceive or fird five different ma'ing
positions in this one problem, in it.selE an excellent practice ; for,
unless we first discover the possibility of a mate being given, we
can never solve any problem ; how to mate follows then of itself.

Here we have an excellent example, showing the power of pieces
in certain positions, and their influence on the whole. Ko doubt
good practice for problem composers who put pieces on the board,
to make up a position with a light heart, without calculating other
effects which they produce, creating double solutions, duals, kc.

BL.tCK.

White.
The problem is —

1. White to mate in 1 moves with the Kt on BS.
-'■ ,. „ ." „ „ KB.

:f. „ „ 5 „ „ V.

■t- ,. „ fi „ „ Kt on Q2.

Ti. „ ,. 8 „ „ t,)L!.

1 presume that the reader will make a prolonged effort to folvc
tliis problem. For the benefit and instruction of tliosc not sufli-
ciently acquainted with the method how to solve a problem, I
hereby work out the solution, as a useful guide for future efforts in
the same direction.

Now in order to find out No. 1, which is the most diflicult, we
must suppose that we do not know that the mate has to be given by
the Kt on B8, but we must treat it simply as a four-mover. First of
all we have to take a good survey of the relative position of tlie
While pieces, and then of the Black K. We find the K can only
move to B4, and in an open position like this it may .safely be taken
for granted that in order to mate in four moves, the White cannul

afford to give Black much liberty after Black playing K to B4 ; we
have also to provide against K x B and K to KtiJ, wh'ch we obviously
cannot allow. We see, therefore, that K to B4 is the move to coun-
teract. We may have several tries at doing this. Kt to Q7 would
not do, as that would open a still larger loophole for escape of the
black K rill K3, therefore we try 1. B to B7, K to Bi. Now we
must move the other B or protect him with 2. K to Rf, K to Ql.
But by looking at the position we find that we have not got more
forward, for whether we move either Kt or 1', the black K obtains
more liberty. It we replace the posiiion, iheref..re. we may
attempt to cut off the retreat of the black K by 1. K to K4 and
2. K to Ko ; but here again we shall soon find that there is no mate
possible in four moves. By making various efforts with the B's and the

F, we shall also soon come to the conclusion that in order to mate in
four moves the position must be disturbed as little as possible.
There remains, therefore, but the Kt on Q2 available. We can un-
doubtedly cut off the K from BI by Kt to Kt3, but then we allow
K to K5. As we are, however, impressed with the conviction that
we must prevent K to BI if possible, we must look what we can do
further after 1. Kt to Kt3, K to K3. It is certain we cannot allow
Black's K to KB4 or KB6, and we see that 2. Kt to Qt is the only
move to prevent either; but as yet we have achieved nothing.
Nevertheless, we are guided instinctively to make these moves, espe-
cially as the black K must now go back, and we know by experience
that by so limiting the action of the K we are more likely to bring
about a mating position. Feeling that in all probabilitj' we are on
the right track, we must not easily be deterred, but seek to find a
mating position. After 2 Kt to Qi. K to Ql in looking for a mate,
we soon find that if the white K were now on Ktl, we could mate
by B to BC. Can we bring that about ! No, for if :!. K to Kt4,
K to K.5, and there is no mate next move, although we can mate in 5
by i. B to K2, K to Q-t. 5. B to B:i, mate. But then we must do
it in four, and we feel that there cannot be any time for moving
the K, therefore we replace the men and try again, nothing daunted.
1. Kt to Kt3, K to K.5. 2. Kt to Qt, K to Qt- We see that the
Kt on Q4 now protects the square on K6, which makes the Kt on
B8 available. Supposing we try 3. Kt(B8) to K6, then K to Kr>.
and there is no mate anywhere the same if 3. Kt(Q4) to K6, but
there is still 3. Kt to Q7, then K to Ko, and surely 4. Kt to B6
is mate.

Now this is a case where we could not see the mating position
first, but where we had to weigh probabilities to lead us in the right
direction, and then exhaust possibilities to find tlie solution, which
is mostly the case with problems above three moves.

1 he other .solutions are as follows : —

No. 2. To mate with KB in five moves: —

We have already found out in attempting to solve No. 1, namely,
by 1. Kt to Kt3, K to K5. 2. Kt to Q4, K to Q4. 3. K to Kt4,
k to K5. 4. B to R6, K to Q4. B to Kt", mate. In this mate
there are many duals; on the 4th move the B can move to three
places or the Kt on 1!8 can make four different moves, after all
of which the KB will be able to give mate. A mate can also be
given by 3. Kt to lj7 or KO, K to K."). 4. K to Kt3 or Kt4, K to Q4.
5. B to BC, mate. There are also duals in the other solutions. The
study of all these various duals will be useful e.xercise for anyone
wishing to learn how to solve or construct a problem.

No. 3. To mate with the I' in five moves : —

1. K to 1!4, K toB4. 2. B to B7, Kto Q4. 3. B to Q7, K to B4.
4. Kt to Kfi (ch), K to Q4. 5. F to K4, mate.

No. 4. To mate with the Kt on Q2 in six moves : —

1. K to IM, K to B4. 2. K to R.5, K .o Q4. 3. B to B7, K to
B4. 4. Kt to KG (ch), K to Q4. 5. Kt to B4 (ch), K to Bl.

G. Kt on Q'2 mates.

No. a. To mate in eight moves with QB : —

1. K to R4, Kto B4. 2. K to Rr>, K to Q4. 3. B to Q7, K to B4.
4. Kt to KG (ch), K to Q4. B. Kt to B7 (ch), K to B4. G. Kt to
Kt.-., K to (,11. 7. r to K4 (ch), K to B4. 8. B males.

J. C. — You are right. In Knowi.edgk fir November, Diagram
p. 24, the Black Queen slionld be on Black's QR square, not on
QU8.

Contents of No. 14.

Tlie riuudbcii-jr 2S

TJic Story of i;reation ; .1 PI in .Vc-
lount of Evolution. By Edward

Clodd 27"

Martingalfs ; or, Sure(?) Gambling

Systems 29

Indian Myths about Thunder. By

•■ 8tella Occideus" 32

A I iFie-tcale Atlas 34

The Southern Skies 35

rAf'.K
Notes on AmeritanisinB. By

Richard .A. Broctor '. 3S

Our Biizzles 39

The Whist PI lyers' Puzzles 40

Gossip By Richard A. Proctor . . 41

Reviews 44

Our Chess Columu. By "Jle-

pliisto " 4 7

Whist. By •■ FivL' of Clubs " 4S

The Face of the Sky for December.

By F.RA.S 4S

Februahy 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

i -J

^" ILLUSTRATED M.4GAZINE ^
1ENCE,UTERATURE.&

LONDOX: FEBRUART 1, 1887.

TENNYSON'S JUBILEE JEREMIAD.

OCKSLEY HALL." and again " Locksley
Hall after Sixty Years " — in round num
bers : — say since the time when the bene
ficent reign of the " first gentleman in
Europe " came to an end, and the dignified
sway of " our gallant sailor king," the
father of many Fitzes, begixn. Our poet
laureate, once peer of all the poets of
his time — now a peer of the realm — has anticipated the
year of Jubilee, as in duty bound, with many rhymed Hnes
presenting the progress of his country during the fifty years
(and a few ye;irs for William) over whose passage men are
to rejoice this year of Jubilee.

Sad to say, the poet of the bay-leaved shen-y cask, called
on to bless the beneficent half century, seems more inclined
to curse. He hints plainly — nay, more than plainly — that
chaos has replaced cosmos. Whether there has been some-
thing " rotten in the state of Denmark," something wrong
about the " beneficent sway " business, or whether (those
being right who think that if England does well or if
England does ill, is a matter altogether in England's
own hands) England has not done so well for herself
lately as she might, or whether, lastly, the new-old peer
has found that all which glitters is not gold, certainly the
poet laureate condemns the past half century and its
products in terms by no means mild or measured. C'arlyle
with his Niagara-and-After screech was calm and compli-
mentary compared with Tennyson. It is not a mere
cataract, but cataclysmic chaos he sees ; it is all " a
sickening game," the " old dark ages back without the
faith or hope," an age when " author, atheist, essayist,
novelist, realist, and rhymester "

Rip their brother's vices open, strip their own foul passions bare —
Down with reticence, down with reverence—" Forward ! " — naked
let them stare ;

the " budding rose of boyhood " is " fed with drainage of the
sewer," " our maidens' fancies wallow in the troughs of
Zolaism " : in fine, the year of Jubilee finds us all in what
a less elegant orator would call " a devil of a state." Surely
if all this elegantly described, sickening, chaotic, foul, sewer-
like, trough-wallowing abomination is real, our best pro-
vision for this year of Jubilee would be a goodly store ot
sackcloth and ashes. If our calm and gentle, purely writing
poet laureate is right, the less JubOee oi-ators say about
" beneficent sway " the better. If there has been sway at all,
Tennyson assures us it has not been beneficent. If there
has been beneficence there can have been no appreciable
sway. If Tennyson is right, what considerable reason for
celebrating a Jubilee remains'! A nation can hardly be
expected to rejoice because fifty years have passed since the
" sailor king " left his fine Fitz-family fatherless. It can only

be because those fifty years have been years of progi-ess, due
in some way or other to influences emanating from Balmoral,
that we are going to rejoice — though, of course, celebrations
of any sort must be a pleasant change for the weary drudges
whom Tennyson holds in such contempt. But if our pro-
gress has been backwards, as he says, where does the rejoicing
come in ?

Why does our keen-sighted and even keener-nostrilled
poet-peer see all this misery, this chaos, these foully-staring
naked passions, these sewer-fed boys and trough-wallowing
girls, where other men see in the same half eentui-y the
usual mixture of good, bad, and indiflerent in the niition,
with some progress and especially a steady advance towards
sober freedom? \Miy does he find "poor old heraldry"
(which we could so well spare). " poor old history" (though
history, at least, can hardly die), and " poor old poetry "
(and very poor some old poetry is to be sure) —

. . . Passing hence
In the common deluge drowning old political common sense,

(which might have, at least, kept one of its extra feet on
dry gi'ound) ? The whole trouble seems to lie in the exten-
sion of the suffrage by " tonguesters," who —

Teach their flattered kings that only those who cannot read can
rule.

These tonguesters, unnamed, it is, who —

Pluck the mighty from their seat, but set no meek ones in their

place,
Pillory wisdom in their markets, pelt their ofiEal at her face.

(Is tins Zolaism ? one wonders.) When it comes to ask-
ing who are the mighty who have been plucked down, our
poet is wisely silent. He does not even tell us what meek
ones might have been set in their place, but were not. Even
when we ask, naturally, what these new electors have done
to move his wrath, or how " the realm-ruining party " (is it,
then, only a pai-ty matter after all 1) have done ill, we get
only some " Goosey-gander " rhymes about a cat and a lion :
and after all the lion is but a carnivorous brute, while the cat,
according to a poet who was more than the peer of all poets,
is a harmless, necessary creature. Finalh', however, we
come on the real trouble : —

Russia bursts our Indian barrier. Shall we fight her? shall we

yield?
Pause before you sound the trumpet ! Hear the voices from the

field !
Those three hundred millions, under one imperial sceptre now.
Shall we hold them ? Shall we loose them ? Tahe the suffrage of

the plough !

All this, indeed, is very, very sad. Russia is an evil empire,
we all know — a portentous power : and our imperial rule in
India is a sacred charge. We may be a sewage-swallowing,
trough-wallowing set at home, but we are purifying and
ennobling our three hundred millions of Indians out yonder
— otirs, we know not why, and care not to ask how. His-
tory, arm-in-arm with heraldry, stirs poor old poetry to
tell us we must sound the trumpet, and with pure and holy
hands (casually armed with swords and repeating rifles)
drive off those hordes of murderous, land- seizing Russians,
needing only our sedulous scratching to be shown for the
Tartars they are. But alas ! before we can do all this for
the benefit of — of — ah well, of Christianity and — and per-
haps commerce, and to spread enlightenment, and so forth,
and so forth — we are obliged, unfortunate that we are, to
" hear the voices of the field," and " take the suffrage of the
plough." Manifestly this is unfair and wrong. We may
take our soldiers from the plough and drain the life blood of
the field. What are the serfs for, but that ? When, how-
ever, men begin to talk of hearing the drudges' voices — and
alas 1 poor fellows, how indistinctly they often speak (mere

74

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887.

mutterings, as it were) — or whon we invite them to give
their suffrage since tliey have suffered and it is they who
will have to suffer, then our boasted freedom is only— says
the peer poet —

Free to slay herself ; is dying while they shout her name.
Assuredly the extension of the suffrage is not an un-
mixed good. Let the fault lie where it may, a large pro-
portion of those to whom votes have recently been given are
quite incapable of formijig just opinions on the matters
about which they are called on to vote. (Many ai-e not more
capable, though, who think themselves born legislators, and
are really but several different sorts of born noodles.) Yet
it was at any rate an attempt at justice — feeble and late,
but still an attempt — to give our peasants a voice after
borrowing from many of them their lives generation after
generation, and from most of them all that makes life worth
living. Nor need those fear who would have the labourers
in our fields remain as simple and as stupid as of yore. It
is to be feared the poor fellows will not soon learn better.
Fifty years hence it will still be possible to say what
Carlyle said of them fifty years ago, when he pictured the
British village Dumdrudge, contemplating in place of
thirty brisk useful peasants as many dead carcasses for
which " it must anew shed tears." " Had these men " —
these thirty and the thirty Russian.s slain per contra —
" any quan-el % Busy as the Devil is, not the smallest I They
lived far enough apart ; were the entii-est strangers ; nay,
in so wide a universe, there was even unconsciously, by
commerce, some mutual helpfulness between them. How
then ? Simpleton 1 their governors had fallen out ; and
instead of shooting one another, had the cunning to make
these poor blockheads shoot." No fear, old heraldry I
Hope on, old history ! And poor old poetry, be joyful
once more 1 For many Jubilee seasons yet to come the
world will not have to sorrow that —

The peasant cow should butt the lion passant from his field.
The Lion Passant has ever been Guardant too; the Lion
Ramjmnt, gules [liuhy though not always blushingly
rubescent for peers, and Mars for piinces a-s old heraldry
enjoins) will long take care that the peasant cow, aye, and
the peasant calf and sheep and lamb, nay, even the poor,
trough-wallowing pig, shall duly provide for his noble
though somewhat greedy maw. If he is no longer as of
yore armed and langued sanguine it is only because teeth
and claws and saignant tongue are hidden. Even the
Jeremiah of this year of Jubilee will not persuade us that
the peasant cow will quickly butt the lordly lion from his
fields.

All this heraldic nonsense, it will be seen, brings in its
own reply, almost as nonsensical as itself. If poor old
heraldry teaches poor old poetry to call the lords of fields
lions, and those who till the fields mere cows, the answer,
fitting the foolish saying, speaks rightly of such lords as
having the brutal, rapacious, and carnivorous qualities of
that keen-toothed, strong-clawed beast of prey. In the old
days, when the fighting men who became lords of the land
chose savage brutes for their knightly cognizances, savagery
and brutality were not regarded as undesirable qualities;
and probably most of these gallant ruffians, from my lion-
hearted namesake downwards, deserved their titles as
thoroughly as Chingachgook deserved to be called The Big
Snake. But it is otherwise now ; and poets, even poets
laureate, might be better employed than in attributing to
landowners the brutal qualities which of yore were essential
■ — as the fate of all mild lords and princes showed — to the
lengthy tenure of war-captured land. The fault is not
amended by going outside that poor old heraldry to call our
labourers " peasant cows."

THE STORY OF CREATION.

A PLAIN ACCOUNT OF EVOLUTION.

By Edward Clodd.

Cir AFTER III.-

PART II.
-THE ORIGIN OF LIFE-FORMS.

OISTURE as well as heat is essential to life ;
therefore life had its beginnings in water,
but whether as plant or animal is a diflicult
question to answer. The fossil-yielding
rocks tell us nothing about it, and the lowest
and simplest plants and animals have so
much in common that any attempt to gather
evidence from them as to the priority of their respective
ancestors must fail. But, however closely the earliest life-
forms were related, there is fundamental difference to be
drawn between their successors in the mode of nutrition, a
difference which may throw some light upon this problem
of priority, and which is not effaced by the existence of
certain flesh-eating plants and vegetating animals, since this
witnesses to the interchange of modifications of which pro-
toplasm is capable.

The plant alone has the power to convert the elements of
lifeless matter into the living solid state, thereby storing up
energy for its own use in growth and germination, and for
the use, directly or indirectly, of the animal. This the plant
is enabled to do in vii-tue of its green colouring matter, called
chlorophyll, which absorbs certain sun-rays, and sets up
chemical action by which carbon is separated from oxygen in
carbonic acid gas, and hydrogen from oxygen in water,
forming hydro-carbons in which energy is stored up. Now if
the animal is entirely dependent upon the plants for this
energj', it would seem clear that they were the fii'st to be
developed.

Mr. Grant Allen has marshalled the arguments in sup-
port of their priority, drawn from the foregoing facts, in
a paper of great force and clearness, which has apparently
received but scant attention from biologists.* He submits
that as the solar i-ays are, in the absence of chlorophyll,
powerless to set up the separative action resulting in the
material on which alone life can be sustained, the inference
is obvious — no chlorophyll, no life. In other words, life
being due to energy radiated from the sun, which energy is
inoperative without chlorophyll, protoplasm ^;^<«s chlorophyll
is the physical basis of life.

Against this we have the opinion of authorities of the
rank of Professors Ray Lankester among zoologists, and
Thiselton Dyer among botanists, that the earliest protoplasm
was destitute of chlorophyll. They contend that since
chlorophyll is a modification of certain parts of the proto-
pl.asmic cells, it is not a thing of primary origin, but a later
acquirement slowly attained. Both authorities incline to
regard certain forms of fungi as representing " more closely
than any other living forma the original ancestors of the
whole organic world "f . . . " which existed before plants
possessed chlorophyll at all." J But fungi, as Mr. Dyer
admits, "draw their nutriment from compounds derived from
other organisms, and therefore in a higher state of aggrega-
tion than those the green plants make use of, so far
approaching animals in the mode of their nutrition."
That is to say, fungoids are like animals ; they use up the
energy which the plants accumulate, and fill a secondary
place in the succession of life-forms. The strength of Mr.

* Genthman's Magazine, Jane 1885, " Genesis."
t Encyclnp. Brit., Art. " Protozoa, p. 832.

J Ihid., " Biology," p. 691. Cf. also Professor Huxley's Critique
and Addresses, p. 239.

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

75

Allen's position lies in this, that mewing life as a product of
Poicer operating under its separating action of Energy upon
Matter, an energy-storing organism must have come first.
If the firet protoplasm lacked chlorophyll, it had within it
the possibilities which permitted its secretion at an early
stage ; it was, to use an unavoidably long word, chloro-
phyllaceous. The question, however, is of no serious import-
ance in view of the common evolution of living things, and
we may pass to less debatable giound in inquu-y into the
' causes which have developed them in countless variety from
specks'of relatively formkss protoplasm.

The. cell .is the structural starting point of all life. It is
a small body of sticky consistence, enclosing a nucleus,
which ■ is the result of the first visible approach of proto-
plasm to unlikeness of parts, and the chief centre of activity.
Every cell arises by separation from a pre-exLsting cell, ami
every living organism is made up of one cell or of many
cells. The single cell of which the lowest organisms are
composed does everything appertaining to life : it feels,
moves, feeds, and multiplies. In the complex or many-celled
organisms these functions are divided among the cells, each
of which is independent, but nevertheless adapts itself for
the work it has to do. Division of laljour causes difter-
ence of structure ; stem, root, sap, leaf, and seed in the
plant ; bone, muscle, nerve-tissue, blood, and egg in the
animal ; all are communities of cells of astounding minute-
ness variously modified.

The one-celled forms increase by division. Growth is the
balance of repair over waste, and when through assimilation
of food into its substance the cell reaches a certain size, the
force of cohesion is overcome by the release of the energy
derived from food, and the cell divides equally at the kernel
or nucleus. The slimy protoplasm disti'ibutes itself around
each nucleus as the two part company, to grow and divide
again in like manner ad injinilum. To these lowest Pro-
tozoa we may a])ply the words, " thou art the same, and thy
years shall have no end," at least till all Ufe here has end ;
for they were the Alpha, and may be the Omega, in the
earth's life-history ; neither is one before nor after the
other, since there is no descent amongst them, but only
latei-al multiplication. In many Protozoa a small portion of
the parent is detached, a process known as generation by
budding ; but this and other modes of whole or partial
fission are classed together as reproduction by multipli-
cation.

The next stage in structure is when the cells, in dividing,
remain grouped together. In the plant, as has been shown
already, the secretion of an envelope of cellulose round each
cell, and the close union of the outer cells into a thick wall
which gives stability to the structure and protection to the
inner cells, causes the plant to lose touch, as it were, with
the outer world, compared with the less rigid surface of the
animal cells, which remained responsive in every part to
stimuli from without.

The study of cell-division is profoundly intere.sting. The
cells divide in definite order into two, then into four, then
into eight, and so on, clustering together in a mulbeiry-like
mass. Mutual pressure of the surface-cells against one
another causes them to flatten into a membi-anous layer
covering larger and denser cells. At a later stage these
also spread out, the two layers forming the material out
of which are developed the most complex animals. These
layei-s, or cell-strata, which have been traced back to the
first stage of division of the germ or egg, compose the double
wall of the body of all animals above the Protozoa ; but
as we rise in the scale a third layer, larger and moi-e
complex, appears, from the subdivision of which the greater
number of organs of the body, be it of a worm or a man, are
developed. The upper layer gives rise to the skin, the

nervous system, and organs of sense ; the lower layer to the
intestinal canal and appendages ; and the middle layere to
the general skeleton, the heart, and other important organs.
The animal kingdom, treating it broadly, has therefore a
threefold division — (1) simple forms, having no body cavity;
(2) intermediate forms, having body cavity; (3) highest
forms, having digestive caNaty sepamte from body cavity.
All have developed by slow and numberlass modifications
from the nucleus of a single cell, the higher passing through
the grades of structure of the lower in their growth from
the egg.

All plants and animals above the lowest are reproduced
by the agency of special cells, the impregnation of the
nucleus of the germ or egg-cell of the female Ijy the nucleus
of the sperm-cell of the male being necessary. There are
numerous variations in the organs, but whatever unlike-
nesses exist in detail do not aflfect this general statement ;
alga and oak, sponge and man, are alike developed from
germs variously called spores, sacs, seeds, and eggs. The
structure of the egg of the parent determines the structure
of the offspring, which, as wDl be shown in due course,
reproduces the series of forms through which its ancestors
passed as it progresses to its adidt state. In other words,
the individual, as it developea from the egg-cell, epitomises
the history of its species.

The transmission of parental form and structure, as well
as of mental character, to offspring, being clear, the question
suggests itself — How have variations, resulting in millions
of past and present species of plants and animals, arisen ?

The ultimate causes of variations are extremely obsciure,
and possibly lie beyond human power to discover, but when
we consider the mobility and minute complexity of structure
of living things invisible to the naked eye, and their
response to every shiver of energy from without, we have
sufficing factors to produce unstableness which will result in
unUkeness of parts. Given a body which, although a minute
speck, contains billions of molecules performing complicated
movements of immense rapidity, and sensitive in incon-
ceivable degi'eo to the play of vibrations impinging upon
them at the i-ate of hundreds of trillions per second, would
not the marvel be if these quivering particles of the
structuie, shaken by energies within, and by still more
potent energies without, did not undergo continuous
redistribution ]

The position may be thus stated. The organism has —
(1) Infinite complexity of structure; (2) Inherited tendencies ;
(3) Mobility and continuous motion, therefore tendency to
vary ; (4) Variations are induced by the surroundings on
which, as vehicles of energy, life depends ; (5) The sur-
roundings change, and the organism adapts itself or not to
the change ; (6) Such as fail to do this perish ; (7) Such
as adapt themselves vary in greater or lesser degree ;
(8) These variations, being transmitted, are stages in the
development of different life-forms. To put the matter
briefly — likenesses are inherited, variations are acquired.

This brings us to the theory Hnked with Mr. Darwin's
name, and which explains by what operation of natuiul
causes the highest plants and animals have descended by
true generation and slow modification from less complex
life-forms, and these in ever-lessening degrees of complexity
and unlikeness until the common starting-point from the
lowest or one-celled organism is reached.

Following Lyell's method of explaining the past by
agencies still in working, and adapting hints from Malthus
and other writers in the clearing up of questions suggested
by observations extending over many years, Darwin pro-
pounded a theory which, in the judgment of every biologist
unfettered by predilections or prejudices, accounts in large
degree for the origin of species.

76

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887.

PHOTOGRAPHS OF DOUBLE STARS
STAR CLUSTERS.*

By mm. Henry.

AND

E have obtained a certain number of good
photographs of double stars and star
clusters, by regulating the duration of the
exposure according to the photographic
intensity of the components. The magni-
tudes of the discs of stars as photogi'aphed
in our charts of the Pleiades and of [a por-
tion of] the Swan (see Knowledge for May
and June, pp. 213, 243), which might have led to the idea
that very close pairs could not be recorded photographically,

magnitude which has been on the plate but the two-
hundredth part of a second, shows only a point, not a large
disc. It is the same with a star of the second magnitude
which has not been photographed for more than the time
(0'013 sec.) necessarj' for recording it, and so forth. It
has been found that the durations of exposure for the
different orders of star magnitude are as presented in the
following table : —

Seconds.

Seconds

1st magnitude .

. 0005

6th magn

tude .

. 0-5

2nd

. 0013

7th

. 1-3

3rd

. 0-03

8th

. 3

4th

. 008

9th

. 8

5th

. 0-2

10th ,

. 20

&c..

&c.

&c.

Fig. 1.— Photograph of the Geeat Cluster in Gemini. (35 Messier.)

were due to the long exposure necessary for stars of the
lowest magnitudes ; the discs grow larger with the exposure,
but always begin by a minute point. A star of the first

* From Jj'Asiroiwmie.

If the exposures are not exaggerated, as they must be to
obtain on the same plate stars included between the 1st
or 2nd magnitude and the 16tb, the stars only record
themselves as minute points, and thus close doubles are
self-recorded (s^enregistrent d'eti.>:-memes).

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

77

Among the star clusters of which we have obtained satis-
factory photographs, we present here the cluster in Gemini
(Messier 35),* that magnificent cluster, 19' in diameter,
composed of stars from the eighth to the fourteenth mag-
nitudes, whose arrangement has struck all observers. We

Fig. 2.— Photograph of Vega axd irs Compasioss.

find here an astonishing stellar wealth which charting can
only reproduce laboriously and incompletely ; but photography
reproduces it faithfully (fig. 1).

Let us note also in the same class of work, the group of
the small companions of Vega (fig. 2), and the group of the
fine quadruple star e Lyrse (fig. 3). The magnitudes in the

instead of two neat pairs. But as will presently be shown,
these double stars have been photogi-aphed separately with a
very short exposure (a quarter of a second).

Among the double stars which we have photographed and
measui-ed (in 1886), we may cite : —

Magnitudes.

61 Cygni 5' 5 and 6

f Ursie Majoris 2 5 and 4

IT Boot is 5 and 6

y Virgiuis 3-0 and 3-2

44 Bootis 5'3 and 6

a Herculis 3o and .5'5

p Herculis 40 and 51

5 Serpentis 4 and 5

e' LyrsB 6 and 7

€^ L3-ra3 ou and 6

These direct photographs enable us to measure on the plate
itself the position-angle of the components as well as the

Distance.

Position-angle.

20"-48

119°-7

14-37

149-1

5-87

102-6

5-34

333-2

4-86

239-4

4-73

116-1

3-71

311-3

3-45

118-7

306

14-3

2-34

136-7

Fi(j. 4. — Path of the Double Star Mizae ox the

Photographic Plate.

Exposure such as to show the smaller star, and therefore to present

the larger as a disc.

distance. To determine the angle of position, we fii-st, as
in direct observation, allow the pair to advance in the
direction of the diurnal motion, photographing itself a certain
number of times along its line of motion. AVe thus obtain
a result such as is shown in fig. 4. This line of motion is,
of course, an east-and-west line, self-recorded with precision.
Consequently, starting from this line, we measure the posi-
tion angle on the plate itself.

In the case cited the star photographed is Mizar ; the
north (0°) is below, the east (90°) to the right, and the
angle of position is 1-19°-1.

Fig.

Fig. 3.-

-Photogbaph op the Group Epsilon
Ltrjv.

former group are from the 1st to the 16th ; for the latter
from the 5th to the 15th. In the latter group, irradiation
resulting from the length of the exposure necessary to show
the very faint stars has combined the two discs of each paij.
into one, in such sort that we have two monstrous discg

• It lies within the limits of the Milky Way, just north of the
ecliptic and east of the solstitial colure.

-Paths of the Double Stars k Bootis, 58 Corvi, asd y Viegixis.
Exposures varying according to the conditions.

[Fig. 5 shows the pairs k Bootis, 58 Corvi, and y Virginis.
It will be noticed that although t: Bootis is only a fourth-
magnitude star, and 58 Corvi below naked-eye vision, while
y Virginis is a third-magnitude star, these dififerences are
not recorded in the photographs, the exposure necessary for
obtaining photographic records being ditlerent in these
diflPerent cases. The double stars which lend themselves
best to the photographic method are those whose components
are nearly equal.]

Messrs. Henry describe and picture an instrument for
magnifying and measuring the photographs of double stars,
" a sort of stellar microscope, which gives the distances of
double stars to the hundredth part of a second, by a process
akin to micrometric work. Astronomers and men of science

78

♦ KNOAA^LEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887.

interested in the study of double stars and stellar systems
will no do\ibt be glad to learn," they add, " that photography
may hereafter be applied effectively in these important re-
searches."

MINUTE MEASUREMENT.

0 one in the least degree familiar with science
in its historical aspect can be ignorant of
the extent to which it has been indebted for
its enormous advancement to the increased
and increasing delicacy of physical measure-
ments. Nor is this merely true in connec-
tion with any single branch of natural
knowledge. Whether (taking a very few illustrations almost
at random) we select the instruments emploj'ed by Tycho
Brahe, for comparison with those now to be found in
every first-class observatory in the world ; the rude
balances of the alchemists with the exquisite masterpieces
of C)ertling ; the rough means of mechanical measurement
employed by Galileo, with the fittings of a modern physical
laboratory ; or the screws cut by Plumier at the beginning
of the last century with the mechanical marvels turned out
by Sir Joseph Whitworth, we shall alike be struck with
the manner in which our knowledge of those bi-anches of
science in whose pureuit they are respectively employed
have advanced 2)a7-i passu with the improvements in them.
It may then be neither uninteresting nor uninstructive if
we attempt to give, in a popular form, some account of the
manner in which ordinarily insensible quantities are made
manifest and easily measurable ; and to this end we pro-
pose to describe in a familiar style some of the devices and
instruments employed in the measurement of extremely
minute quantities. Such description may enable those who
have previously devoted but scant attention to the subject
to realise with more force the trustworthiness of the data
on which scientific theories are now founded, and to appre-
ciate better the confidence with which modern men of science
regard their results.

Suppose, then, in the outset, that we wish to meiisure a
distance to the one-hundredth of an inch upon a given
sti-aight line, in what way shall we proceed to do sol
Scarcely by dividing a straight scale so finely, and using that
as our standard ; inasmuch as the strokes of the divisions,
and the intervals separating them would probably differ too
little in width to be trustworthy by ordinary vision.
Perhaps one-fiftieth of an inch is the smallest quantity
which can be fairly employed for such a purpose by a person
of average sight, and one half of this may be estimated. If,
though, we are merely to employ estimation, a very little
practice will enable us to take off quantities of this order
of minuteness with considerable accuracy from a scale
divided into inches and tenths, as in fig. 1,

I I

u

Fig. 1.

where s s' represents a sc;ile so divided. If now we lequlre
to take off 1^ inch from this scale, we, of course, simply place
one point of our compasses on s and the other on 5 in the
figure to get what we want at once. If, though, we wish to
obtain a length of, say l-'2'2 inch, then again placing one
point of our compasses on s, we extend the other to a, as
nearly as we can estimate 0"2 di^•ision beyond the second

division of our second inch, and thus we obtain the length
required. In a similar way it will be seen that the distance
between s and 6^1-56 inch, and so on. But, after all,
guessing to a certain extent enters into such deter-
minations, and men of science cannot in the least degree
afford to be dependent on guesswork. Let ns, then, see
whether we can find any more rigidly accurate method of
measuring a quantity so small as that of which we have been
speaking. We do find such a one in what is called the
" Diagonal Scale," which is engraved on the boxwood or
ivory protractor in every case of mathematical instruments —
a scale which will not onlj' enable us to measure to the one-
hundredth of an inch, but to the one-hundredth of even a
quarter of an inch (or the four-hundredth of an inch) if
necessary. The principle on which it is constructed will be
evident from a little study of fig. 2.

012 3466780 10

J'

1 M 1 1 n n

c'

P

w

■ 1

1

4 1

MM

1 M M M

0 12 3

Fig. 2.

4 6 6 7 8 9 10

Here we see eleven equidistant parallel lines, the upper
one of which is diHded into two of the primary units
(inches) in our figure, and perpendicular lines drawn
through them. In practice, of course, the scale shown above
would lie extended towards the left and divided into inches,
as in the case of a 1 o o. It is, however, with the right-
hand one of these primary divisions that we are here more
particularly concerned. This we subdivide into ten equal
parts, both upon the upper and lower lines. We now draw
straight lines from the zero point above to subdivision 1
below, from 1 above to 2 below, and so on, until we come to
subdivision 9 above, which is joined to 10 below. Then
obviously, as all these diagonal lines are parallel and
equidistant at every point, while the first one coincides
with the zero point at o on the top line, it must depart
one tenth of a subdivision from the perpendicular o o in
the second, two-tenths in the third, three-tenths in the
fourth . . . and so on to ten-tenths, or one entii'e sub-
division on the bottom line. Then evidently a o ^ 1 inch
and al (still measuring on the top line) I'l inch; bb',
however, as will be easily seen, = 1 inch -|- one-tenth of
one-tenth of an inch, or -01 inch ; in other words, 6 6' =
1-01 inch. Similarly, cc' = l'02 inch. So again, J d' =
1 inch -f- "2 inch -f -04 inch — i.e. to 1'24 inch ; as does ee'
to 1"88 inch, and so or. for clearness, we have drawn our
figure to a one-inch scale, but on the ivory protractors in
cases of instruments a quarter of an inch scale will be found
to be divided in this way : from which, as we have said
above, ^^^Vjjtli of an inch should, theoretically, be susceptible
of measurement. Perhaps half this quantity, though, is all
that can be rigidly depended on with ordinary compasses,
But in describing the construction and use of the diagonal
scale, we have presupposed the employment of compasses,
or something analogous, to take off the quantity we require :
and it must be obvious, on the slightest reflection, that
no such mode of proceeding is, or can be, applicable in such
cases as those of the measurement of the height of the
mercury in a barometer, or angular deviation on the " limb,"
or circular periphery, of a circle employed to measure angles
with. It is true that a diagonal scale Wixs engraved on the
limbs of astronomical quadrants by Cantzler in England
towards the end of the sixteenth century, and was adopted

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

79

by Tycho Brah6 ; in which case, the sharp straight edge of
the observing arm, or a hair coinciding with a radius of the
quadrant, cut the diagonal scale. Eeference to fig. 2 (p. 78),
though, will show that while absolutely true as a means of
subdividing a straight measure of length, diagonal lines only
afford an approximate measure of a circular arc, although
this approximation was sufficiently near for the purpose of
astronomers in Tycho's day. It is, however, to a certain
Captain Vernier that we are indebted for a method of sub-
dividinggraduation both on straight and curved lines, remark-
able at once for its elegance and accuracy. His device, now
universally known as a " Vernier," must be familiar to
every one who has ever seen an upright barometer or a
sextant. It was originally described by him in a tract
publi.*hed in Brussels in 16.31. The principle on which it
is based may be gathered from a study of fig. 3, which
represents it as applied to a common barometer.

1^

/

3

5

e

7

a

I

-30

c

3
I

7

"I—

i

3
2

t

28

-30

-29

Fig. 3.

Fig. 4.

In the figure above, s I is the scale of inches and tenths
engraved on the right-hand side of the mercury tube, B m.
It really starts from the surface of the quicksilver in the
cistern ; but as' the mercury never falls much below 28 inches
at the sea-level, the scale begins somewhere about there,
and, as it stands, shows the height of the mercury in inches
and tenths. In order, then, to measure the tenths of these
tenths, or the hundredths of an inch, the vernier is employed,
as shown above. In this its original form it consists of a
little scale, v, measuring exactly one inch and one- tenth, but
itself divided into only 10 equal pai-ts. Now as these 10
divisions on the vernier equal to 11 on the scale of inches, it
is obvious at a glance that e;ich division of the vernier must
be equal to 1 ,',,th division of the inch scale — i.e. to yVVths
(Oil) inch. Suppose, then, that the top line on the vernier
accurately coincides with any given one on the inch scale,
then will that immediately below it difi'er -r,',,Tth of an
inch from the nest division on the inch scale, the second
beneath it , n„ths inch from the corresponding division, and
so on. Looking, then, at our figure, we see that the line
marked 6 on the vernier coincides with that corresponding
to 29-1 inches. Hence that marked .5 must be -01 inch
above its corresponding line, line 4 02, line 3 -03, line 2 'O-l,
line 1 -05, and the top of the vernier -06 of a division
above the line over which it stands. This, however, we .see
is 29-7, and hence the barometer reads 29-76 inches. This,
as we have said, was the form of the vernier as originally

devised and described by its inventor ; but it will be noted
that, whereas the inches and tenths of the primary scala
read upwards, in this construction the hundredths are read
downwards. Let us see if it be not possible to obviate the
slight confusion which might arise from this, and make both
scale and vernier read in the same direction. The method
of doing so is extremely simple, and is illustrated in fig. i.

Instead of di^^ding" 11 of the primary divisions in 10
equal parts, we here take 9 of those primary parts for such
divisions ; so that, in the case of any two lines being coin-
cident, the vernier line above falls short of the corresponding
one on the inch scale by -01 inch, and so on. Evidently in
this case the divisions of the vernier will read upwards the
Siime as those on the primary scale. Our figure represents
the instrument as reading 29-72. In astronomical and
surveying instruments and the like, the vernier thus reads
forwards, though in all cases in which extreme delicacy of
measurement is necessary, the vernier, itself in such instru-
ments has been superseded by the micrometer microscope,
to be referred to further on. Reverting for a moment to
the barometer : in all standard instruments 24 of the primary
divisions, each equal to ^Lth of an inch, are taken as the
length of the scale of the vernier, which is divided into 25
equal parts. Hence aach of these falls short of a fixed
division by J, th of ^V^li or ^i^jth of an inch, and as this is
halved in the case' of the apparent coincidence of t%TO
adjacent paire of lines, the height of the mercury is read in
such instruments to the -nr.ioth (•001) of an inch.

After our description of the vernier, as applied to the
subdivision of a sti-aight scale, little need be added as to its
application to the circular graduated " limb " of an instru-
ment. In those mostly in popular use, such as the
theodolite, sextant, and "the like, the graduation on the
primary arc or cii-cle is to 30', 20', or 10' ; then, by the aid
of the vernier, these would be subdivided to 1', 20', or 10"
respectively. For example, if the circle is divided to 30',
then taking 29' as the whole length of the vernier, and
dividing this into 30 equal parts, in the case of two coincident
lines the pair next beyond them wiU be separated by ^'^th
or 1', the pair above that again by jj'^jth or 2', and so on;
and so the scale Ktn be read to a single minute. It may
serve to show how enormous is the gain from the use of the
vernier in such a case if we mention that the ordinary
pocket sextant, with a radius of less than 1-7 inch, is thus
read to minutes: whereas if we divided a cii-cle itself to
this degree of angular minuteness and made each minute
= -02 inch (smaller di\isions would in such case be useless),
the circle itself would have to be some lU feet in diameter 1
If the arc were divided into 10', then taking 59 of such
primary divisions ( = 9°-.50' in the limb) for the total length
of our vernier, and subdividing this into 60 equal parts, it
will be evident that the 60th part of 10', i.e. 10", may thus
be read off. Six-inch sextants are now so divided.

We cannot take leave of the vernier without inviting
attention to a blunder which has been copied from book to
book for the last hundred years. Sometimes it takes the
form of the expression " the Nonius or Vernier," at others
(as on p. 766 of Chambers's, usually marvellously accurate,
" Descriptive Astronomy ") we find Nonius described as the
inventor of the vernier. He was nothing whatever of the
sort, the " Nonius " and the " Vernier " differing wholly in
principle. The attentive reader has, it is to be hoped, by
this time thoroughly gi-asped the idea underlying the con-
struction of the vernier. The gi-aduation suggested by
Nonius was this : — Forty-five concentric circles were to be
described upon the limb of the instrument and divided into
four quadrants by diameters intersecting at right angles,
then the outside quadrant was to be divided into 90 equal
parts, the next into 89, the third into 88, and so to the

80

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[Febkuary 1, 1887

inside one, which was to be divided into 46 equal parts.
The number of .each of the subdivisions was marked against
its corresponding quadrant in the instrument. Now one
edge of the bar carrying the sight vanes passed, when pro-
duced, through the common centre of all the circles,
and Nonius supposed would cut some division on one
of the circles accurately ; then the angle corresponding to
this division is calculated from the number of the divisions
intercepted and the entire number in the quadrant of
which the coincidence occurs. Thus, suppose that the edge
were found to coincide with division 31 of the quadrant
divided into 72 parts, then the arc in degrees is |4 of 90° or
38° -15', and so with any other circle. This device, however,
never came into general use, for Tycho Brahe adopted it
only soon to abandon it for the diagonal scale (of his use of
which we have spoken before), and it comparatively soon
died a natural death.

[To he continued.)

THE NATURALIST'S LABORATORY.

CONTRIBUTION VI.
Laboeatoby Furnitqre — (continued).

HAIKS AND Tables.- — Simplicity of design
is here to be observed as a sine rpid nun.
The chairs used at the working table should
be armless, of the variety generally adopted
for bedrooms, or the so-called " Windsors "
of the kitchen ; but for comfort, elegance,
and portability the Bohemian bent-wood
chaire, with polished perforated wooden
seats, are to be preferred before cane-bottomed or solid
wooden seats. Upholstered furniture of any sort should not
be permitted to enter the room, as such articles not only
afford a clinging-place for dust and dirt, but are in themselves
small factories of those undesirable entities. A single armed
chair, however, of the kind known as the circular " oiSce-
chair," made entirely of French-polished ash or oak wood,
may be placed by the .side of an escritoire.

Of tables, four patterns may be introduced with advan-
tage : — (t() The Dissecting Table — to be placed in proximity
to the sink and water-supply — ought to be made of well-
seasoned wood, and very tirmly built. The top of the table
should be about three feet above the floor, i.e. six or eight
inches higher than an ordinary writing table. This will
enable the anatomist to operate more freely whilst standing,
as it will be found that much of this kind of work can be
more efficiently and comfortably accompUshed in that
posture ; but provision should additionally be made to
enable the dissector to be seated, and a stool on the trivet
principle, without back or arms, will be found to meet his
wants most admiralily.

The biologist's dissecting table shown at fig. 1 has been
devised to meet the requiiements of the naturalist's labora-
tory, private or public. It is intended as a working table
for one person, but, of course, by increased dimensions the
article may be modified so as to accommodate more than
one worker at a time.

The black line / (fig. 1), over the top of the table,
represents a sheet of lead or zinc, guttered crosswise across
its surface, g. g. g., which cari-y blood, washings, ifec, into
basin B. A longitudinal gutter, which crosses the three
cutters above mentioned midway, is of course not shown in
the diagram ; t shows the table-top, affording a small border
of wood, two inches wide, around the metal. This device
allows for the attachment of dissecting hooks, connected

to the subject by means of slender chains, whereby the
fascia, itc, may be turned and held aside to enable the
operator to work with greater ease upon any desired part.
The basin B can be made to discharge into a pipe leading to
a trapped sewer-gully, such as the famous " Kensington
trap " of Messrs. James Stiff & Co., of Lambeth, or its con-
tents may simply be received into a pail or bucket placed
immediately beneath the orifice of discharge under the
table, to be removed from time to time as occasion may
require. Whilst dissecting the student will find it advan-
tageous to keep the basin full of warm water, with a soft
sponge or two at hand, wherewith to sop up extraneous
humours ; a plug is therefore provided at the bottom of the
basin. One of the most important novelties, however, in
this table is the drawer, <7, which is fitted with a hinged
board, b, as shown in the figure ; when the drawer is pulled
out the board may be made to assume the position b', and

Fig. 1.— Biologist's Dissecting Table.

thus aflbrds an extempore desk, which can be inclined at any
angle to suit the convenience of the worker. It would be
well to have this board fitted with a superficial pad of
drawing-paper, upon which rough sketches, diagrams, and
notes can be readily made of the dissection from time to
time, and thus afford a lasting record of what may prove to
be of considerable importance when the student comes to
project a detailed description of his researches. The want
of this item is a source of great annoyance to the anatomist,
who often finds that his memory is apt to prove deceptive,
or that his notes on scraps of paper are insufficient or mis-
laid when wanted ; it does, in fact, supply that businesslike
methodicity which reaps its own reward, alike in science as
in commerce. When the drawer is closed, and the drawing-
board turned down within its recess, as shown at fig. 1, b,
it will be observed that ample space is left below it for
the storage of notes and drawings taken, and for a case or
two of dissecting instruments, d, boxes of pencils, ink, ifec.
A table thus constructed will be found most convenient for
amateurs, private laboratories, and such colleges as provide
separate benches for each student : it is a vast improvement
on those in common use either in this country or on the
Continent. The siu-face of the table-top should measure
about 3 feet 6 inches by 2 feet. The diameter of the basin
ought not to exceed 10 inches.

(/3) The Microscopist's Working Table. — As a very lai-ge
part of the naturalist's work nowadays calls into use that

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNONATLKDGE ♦

81

most useful of niodern inventions, the compound micro-
scope, a special table designed to iacilitate research must
here be looked upon as something indispensalile. The
objects of the design, now submitted to the notice of
students of nature for the first time, are to afford general
convenience during study, and to enable one to record obser-
vations gnxphiciilly on the spot. To accomplish these the
table is divided into two parts — the microscopLst's, M
(fig. 2, A and b), and the artist's portion, d (fig. 2, A and
b). The dimensions of tlie table are clearly indicated

Top View.

Kir. l'. — MicRosconsT's Working Table.
A, Side Elevation. £, Top Plan.

on the figures, a, tig. 2, is a working plan to show the end
elevation of the structure ; b gives a good idea of the shape
of the table-top. Each part is furnished with two drawers
as shown at a ; the drawers under d afiord space for the
storage of colour-boxes, pencils, paper, <fcc., those beneath m
are intended to receive microscopiail accessories, such as
glass slips, instruments, live Vioxes, troughs, and the
hundred-and-one odds and ends that may be required from
time to time by the worker in Nature's unseen universe.

The longest end of the table, viz., tliat parallel with B,
fig. 2, B, ought to face ii window appro.ximately looking
northwards. The worker, seated on the bench t, fig. 2, b,
can thus employ direct or reflected light accoidiiig to the
])osition, inclined, upright or horizontal, in which he places his
microscope. To his right there is fixed a i-eagent stand, r,
fig. 2, a and b. As soon as he has completed his oltserva-
tions, or adjusted an olyect which he deems worthy of
delineation, he should shift his instrument to the position d,
fig. 2, b, and take his .seat upon the chair s, fig. 2, b. By so
doing, he will gain the inestimable advantage of working in
a clear transmitted light without the chance of a vitiated
result through interference rays, and with absolute security

against the evil efiects of a move or less intense glare. The
value of thus being able to shift one's position from front
to side on the table will soon become evident to workers
with the microscope who indulge in prolonged observations.
The top plan, tig. 2, b, shows the position of the microscope
during investigation, or whilst mounting objects ; B, place
for a dust-proof box, for use whilst i)repariug specimens for
observation, a detailed description of which will be given in
the sequel ; d, the po.sition of the microscope when used
with the camei-a lucida for delineating objects, or when
employed with the polariscope, or where pure transmitted
light is alone admissible; b, the reagent stand.

(y) T/iK Occasional Table. — A round-topped table, pre-
ferably with a slate top, about 2 feet iu diameter, and iron
stand, is a very useful adjunct to the naturalist's laboratory.
Placed bv the window it affords a convenient place for
overhauling and sorting the captures of a day's pond-hunt
or country ramble, for untieing the life-habits of minute
organisms, and for general displays. Such tables may be
purchased from any dealer in microscopical ajiparatus, and
may be seen in full working order in the laboi-atory of the
well-known microscopi-st, Mr. Thomas Bolton, of Bir-
mingham.

{&) T/ic Wrlt'uiij Table. — There can be no doubt that of
all forms the so-called library talile is the most useful here.
Its large Hat surface gives room for the artist to exercise his
ability in making large drawings or diagrams wherewith to
illustrate lectures or papers ; there is also plenty of space
for the current journals, in addition to elbow-room for the
author. Libr.iry tables may be purchased in all sizes, to
suit the dimensions of the student's apartment, from most
respectable furnitui'e dealers.

In our next contribution we shall conclude this subject,
with detailed descriptions of various articles necessary to the
equipment of a perfect laboratory, inclusive of such apparatus
as do not strictly come under the heading of instruments
for i-esearch.

THE WHIST SUPERSTITION DISPELLED.*

By " Five of Clubs."

anyone were asked how often he held a single-
ton he would probably answer, " In one hand
out of tirciUi/," or some such high number. The
real proportion is one in little more than three.
Anyone who cares to note as an evening at
whist proceeds, and evening after evening for a
considerable time, the number of singletons he
hold.s, or that others in the company hold, he will find that
this is about the proportion shown in the long run.

The proof is not simple, because a singleton can appear in
many diflerent ways, and each requires a separate calcula-
tion. But those who posse.ss our little treatise, " How to
Play Whist," will find under the head " Whist \Vhittlings,"
in pages 19-i to 197, the necessary details for the calcula-
tion ; or they may take the results ther(^ collected as already
calculated. The "table at p. 19G .shows the chance of every
possible arrangement of suits in a hand, from the most
frequent ca.se — 4 of each of two suits, o of a third, and 2 of
the fourth — to the case of 13 cards of one suit. The table
further shows, by the way, the chances for every possible
arrangement of the 13 cards of a suit in the four hands,
from the most frequent case — i cards of the suit falling iu
each of two hands, 3 in a third, and 2 in tho fourth — to the
case of all 13 cards falling into one hand.

Now, collecting from this table at p. 196 of " How to Play
Whist" all possible arrangements of the suits in a hand by

• See last number of Knowledgi:, p. 57.

82

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887.

■which at least one singleton shall appear in the hand, we
form the followins; little sum in addition : —

Arrangement.

5; 4; 3; 1.

6; 4; 2; 1.

6; 3; 3; 1.

5; 6; 2; 1.

4; 4; 4; 1.

7; 3; 2; 1.

6; 5; 1; 1.

7; 4; 1; ].

8; 2; 2: 1.

8; 3; 1; 1.

7; 5; 1; 0.

6 ; 6 ; 1 ; 0.

8 ; 4 ; 1 ; 0.

9; 2; 1; 1.

9; 3; 1; 0.
10 ; 2 ; 1 ; 0.
10; 1; 1 ; 1.
11; 1 ; 1 ; 0.
12; 1; 0; 0.

Total

Grand Total

One-foiirtli of the
number of hands in which
arrangement can

appear.

20,.527,933,140

7,464,702,960

5,474,115,504

5,038,674,498

4,751,836,375

2,985,881,184

1,119,705,444

622,058,580

.305,374,212

186,617,574

172,262,376

114,841,584

71,775,990

28,275,390

15,950,220

1,740,024

628,342

39,546

.507

4S,882,413,450
Multiply by 4

19.i,529,663,SU(l

T— ^ , itc,

That is to say, there .are 195,529,653,800 po.ssible hands
at whist, in which one .singleton at lea.st appears.

Now the total number of hands possible is no less than
635,01.3,559,600. Thus the chance of a hand showing one
singleton at least is represented by a fraction of which this
number is the denominator, and 195,529,653,800 the
numerator, and such a fraction is not much less than a
third. Reducing the fraction by division (by 200) we see
that it may be very nearly represented by

977_65
317507'

and on applying to this the method of continued fractious
we get

1_ 1_ j_

3+ 4+ 26 +

showing that the fraction is very nearly repi-esented by j^j.

Thus each player may expect to have a singleton in his
hand four times in every thuteen deals. And he may
expect to find a singleton in a plain suit three times in
every thii'teen deals.

Now obviously we must not multiply -^^- by 4 to get the
chance that in one band of the four a singleton will appear,
for that would give jf , or more than certainty, for such a
result, which is absurd on the face of it. The proper way
to calculate the chance for four hands is ,as follows : —

The chance that we do not find a singleton in the first
hand we examine is -j^^, and the same with the second hand,
the third, and the fourth ; hence the chance that we do not
find a singleton in any one of the four is represented (ap-
proximately) by

13 13 13 13 28561

(the last three digits of numerator and denominator being
alike is an odd coincidence). Hence the chance that there
will be a singleton in some hand is equal to

22000
28561'

and the odds in favour of a singleton (one at least) appear-
ing, are no less than 22,000 to 6,561, or about 7 to 2. These

are not the correct odds, however, for four hands resulting
from a single deal, because such hands are not independent
of each other. If one hand of four dealt has the suits
unequally divided, the chances are that there will be con-
siderable irregularity in the others. The full treatment of
the problem would require more work than the matter is
worth. But from an approximative method I find the odds
about 5 to 2 in favour of a singleton appearing in one hand
at least of the four resulting from a deal. Hence, while the
" nine times out of ten " mentioned in Bohn's " Handbook
of Games " must be regarded as absurd, the wager oflered
by G. B.'s friend was short of the just odds, which are much
in favour of a singleton showing somewhere. Yet no one
who had not either calculated the odds for a singleton in a
given hand (and thence inferred the probability of one singleton
at least in four hands dealt) or observed the actual occurrence
of singleton hands in a long series of deals, would think they
occur so often. I suspect the cause may partly be that,
while the player is apt to rejoice at the occ\irrence of a
singleton in a plain suit (not, of course, that he would have
any idea of such an inicjuity as leading it), he is sure to be
disgusted in much greater degree when he finds but a single
trump in his hand. His pleasure in the first case, which
occurs thrice as often as the other, being neutralised by his
triple disgust at a singleton in tramps, the general effect
is to greatly diminish the impression which a singleton,
regarded per se, .and inde[)endently of its being plain or a
trump, would otherwise produce. In like manner the
annoyance arising from the recognition of a singleton in an
opponent's hand is neutralised by the lively satisfaction
arising from the discovery that he has only one truDjp.
The explanation may be far-fetched, but the fact to be
explained is curious ; it is certain that in about five deals
out of seven, on the average, a singleton appears in one hand
at least out of the four : it is equally certain that not one
whist-player in a thousand would believe this till he had
tested the matter statistically.

CONCISE EXPRESSION IN SCIENCE.

By W. Cave Thomas.

S it not time that Scientists should express them-
selves more concisely than they are wont on
the theory of light ? To speak either of the
'• velocity of light" or "of light waves which
have travelLd across the illimitable depths of
interstellar space," would have been perfectly
correct under the Newtonian doctrine, but is
incorrect, inapplicable, and misleading when applied to the
" undulatory." In the first place, the theory of \ibratory
action in an ethereal medium teaches us that there is no
matter oj Uylit to travel, and in the second that waves
themselves do not travel across space, either limited or
illimitable. The vibratory action initiated either by the
sun or by the stars is communicated, telegraphed, through
space, just as a wave excited at one end of a stretched cord
is communicated throughout its length to the other; never-
theless, the initial wave does not travel the length of the
cord. The inexact language I am alluding to in past and
piesent dissertations upon the theory of light makes u
thorough muddle of the Newtonian and undulatory hypo-
theses. Moreover, there is very much involved in the
correct and clear apprehension of the facts we have cited.
For if the vibrations that act upon the optic sense, and cause
all the various sensations of light, are also those that act
upon a sensitised plate, then we can no longer entertain the
notion of a something plus a vibration, termed actinic

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

83

force, being associated with a ray of light. Therefore, what-
ever special virtues may belong to that class of i-ays called
the " chemical," those special \nrtues must con.sist in the
mechanical action of the waves of this class upon certain
substances.

[I sympathise much with Mr. Thomas's purpose in the
above communication. But I fear that the strict accuracy
for which he stickles can hardly be secured in company with
gieat conciseness. Let anyone try to express concisely the
idea conveyed, though not with strictly verbal accuracy,
by — for example — the statement that the light of such and
such a star took ten years to travel across interstellar space
to the earth. — E. P.]

OUR PUZZLES.

OME correspondents complain that we give
too much room to puzzles, and they are too
ditficult. Our puzzles have mostly been
intended as mathematical recreations. Here
are three which are very easy — perhaps
familiar to most readers — but interesting
as studies.

I'lzzLE XIX. Shoio hoic to cut a regular tetahedron
(e.qiiilaferril triangular pyramid) so that the face, cut shall
be a square: also shoio how to plug a square hole with a.
tetahedron.

PczzLE XX. Shoic hoic to cut a cube so that the cut face
shall he a regular hixagoii : also show how to Jjlug a hexagonal
hole with a cube.

Puzzle XXI. Shou- hoio to cut a regular octahedron (a
double square pyramvl with triangular faces) so that the cut
face sltall he a reijular hexagon ; and show how to plug a
hexagonal hole with an octahedron.

The dodecahedron and icosahedron can be cut with
decagonal faces or used to fill decagonal holes. The former
also served the editor as a basis for his library and school
star atlases, and for the equal-surface atlas whose maps are
now in progiess.

SOLUTION OF LAST MONTH'S PUZZLES.

■ UZZLE XYI. Box No. 1 is 11 inches square,
inside measurement, in the ba.se; and ll/^y
inches deep ; and the fruiterer desires to pack
in it 200 oranges.

He can effect this by the arrangement illus-
trated in fig. 1, a, where the '25 darker circles
represent the lowest layer of oranges, and the
'2o hght circles the layer next above it, the successive layers
corresponding alternately with these, so that the dark circles
may be regarded as showing the positions of the oranges in
the 1st, .3rd, 5th, and 7th layers, the light circles represent-
ing the positions in the 2nd, 4th, 6th, and 8th.

To determine the height of the centres in any layer above
those in the next lower Layer, let a plane be supposed taken
through the centres of the oranges a, b in the lowest layer
and c in the layer above. (This plane will be vertical if the
layers are horizontal.) Then we have the section shown in
fig. 1, b, where the centres a, b, c are represented by
A, R, c. Since ac^cb=:2 inches, CM=v/2 = l-41i inch.
Thus each layer rises r414 inch above the last; and since
the lowest layer rises 2 inches above the bottom of the box,
leaving 9^^ inches to the top, we are limited to as many
layers above the bottom one as the (whole) number of times
1414 inch is contained in O,',, inches; i.e. there are
7 layers above the lowest (since 1-414 x 7=9-898). Thus

there can be 8 layers, and it needs no proof that there can
be 25 in each layer, arranged as in the figure. Consequently
200 oranges can be packed in this way. It will be shown

Rftt.b.

a.

o ' >^ }

^

X\v

\ \ / J \ \ / /

^^

A

c^^\)

"^C

K^\

(^

L^ vjyi^-- vV

y\\}

j\. \ f)

%

J-l,!5.1..1

presently that by no other arrangement can more than
200 oranges be packed in Box No. 1.

Puzzle XVII. Box No. 2 has a base 12 inches by
11^ inches, inside measurement, and is llf*,, inches deep.
The fruiterer has to pack in it 2.31 oranges.

He can effect this liy the arrangement shown in fig. 2, o,
where the dark and light circles are to be understood as
before. We get in G and 5 in alternate rows, and 6 rows
fall easily within the Hi inches in the lowest row, for we
see from fig. 2, b, that h and c, the centres of the 2nd row,
fiiU further from the side of the box than a does, by the
distance AM = ,y 3, or 1-73 inch. Hence, since the 1st row
reaches 2 inches from the side, the sixth reaches 2-1-5 x 1-73
= 10'65. But it is further manifest that e, the centre of an

y

\^ N

6XyXi)

^l

1 A

iM^

i

m^:

^ ^

W?^.

orange of 2nd laj-er, lies farther than a from the side by a
distance equal to i ao, or om in fig. 2, b. That is each row
in the upper layer overlaps by ^ y/'3, or -58 inch, a row in
the lower layer. (This, of course, is true of every layer ;
only in the aiTangement illustrated the rows in the lower
layer overlap the rows of the layer above towards, not from,
the side shown at the top of the figiire. Adding -58 to
10-65, we get 11-23 inches, so that the upper layer, like the
lower, can contain 6 rows ; and yet lie within the breadth
(11:^ inches) of the base. Thus in each layer we get 6

84

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887.

rows of oranges, the rows coataining alternately 6 and 5
oranges ; so that each layer contains 3 times 11, or 33
oranges.

We must next determine how many layers we can get
within the depth of 11 [*V inches. For this we must find
how much higher the centre of an orange e is above the
level in which lie the centres a, h, c. But for convenience
(so that tig, 2, b, may still suit us) we may suppose an
orange set in the space above o, fig. 2, h ; for clearly we shall
have the same height in one case as the other. The
centre will lie in the perpendicular from o, and at a distance
of 2 inches from b, as in the other case, illustrated in fig. 1, b.
Thus if we draw od perpendicular to OB in fig. 2, b, and
with B.I (=:2 inches) as radius describe the arc ad around B
as centre cutting od in D, we clearly have od equal to the
height we require, by which the centres of the oranges in
one layer are above those in the next below [or OB^o6,
BD:=2 inches, and bod is a right angle). But since

B0=0A=#.v/3, and bd=2.

oD-

1:=';, and

OD

=2N/|=§N/tj = § (24495) = l-633 inch. By this amount
each layer rises above the layer next below; and as the
lowest is 2 inches high, and the total height is 11 '8 inches,
we divide 9'8 inches by 1'633, getting C as the number of
layers above the lowest, the 7 layers reaching to a height of
2 + 6 X l'633=:ir79S inches, or falling just within the
depth of the box.

The total number of oranges, since each layer contains 33,
is 7 X 33, or 231, as required.

Puzzle XVIII. Box No. 3 is cubical — the inside length,
breadth, and depth being 11 /'jj inches — and in this box
256 oranges are to be packed.

Here the arranffement adopted must be that shown in
fig. 3, where the dark and light circles are to be understood

Fig. 3

as before. Here the rows range from each other as the
layers do in the first arrangement, so that, as shown by aid
of fig. 1, J, in considering that case, 8 rows occupy a breadth
of 11 '89 inches. (We may regard (/, b, and c in fig. 3 as
corresponding to «, b, and c in fig. 1, a.) INIoreover, we
observe that the arrangement of oranges in each layer of
this third box is, in a sense, the same as in the layers of box
No. 1, the centres of four adjacent oranges forming a square
2 inches in the side, as in that case. Hence the layers
lange in height in the third case precisely as in the fir.st, or
there are 8 layers.

Since, then, there are 8 layers, and 32 in each, as fig. 3
show.s, there ai-e in all 256 oranges, as required.

It will be readily seen that the arrangement in the solution
of each puzzle is the best for that special case. If we try in
box No. 1 the arrangement used in bos No. 2, we get in
i layers of 30 and 3 of 25, or onlj' 195 oranges ; if the
arrangement used in box No. 3, we get in i layers of 25 and
i of 24, or only 196. Again, if in box No. 2 we employ
airangement No. 1, we get in i layers of 30 and 3 layers of
26, or only 195 oranges ; and if in box No. 2 we employ
arrangement No. 3, we get in 8 layers of 28, or only 221
oranges ; lastly, if in box No. 3 we employ arrangement
No. 1, we get in 8 layers of 25, or only 200 ; while if we
employ arrangement No. 2, we get 7 layers of 30, or only
210 oranges.

As regards closeness of packing, the methods are in one
sense identical, a dozen or so of oranges in the middle of
any box being arranged relatively to each other precisely like
a set of as many which can be taken from the middle of
any other box. But, considered with reference to the several
boxes, the methods of packing are not equally close. We
may clearly represent the closeness of packing for No. 1,
No. 2, and No. 3 by the number in each box divided by the
cubical content of the box, getting the respective expres.sions

200

231

-, and

256

On deductinu

(ll)-xll y 12x1 1-23 X 11-8' """■ (119)''
the values of these expressions, which can be very easily
done by logarithms, we obtain the following jiroportion : —
Packing No. 1 : Packing No. 2 : Packing No. 3 : : 1389
: 1453 : 1516.
Thus the packing is considerably closer in box No. 2 than
in box No. 1 , and in box No. 3 than in box No. 2.

PAST AND PRESENT VOLCANOES.

AIN great volcanic disturbances remind
us of the energies which our earth once
possessed. For they err who imagine
that the uniformitarian theory, which
has replaced among the geologists of
our da}' the catastrophic theory of former
times, implies forces of disturbance as great
now as they were during past ages of the
earth's volcanic history. The processes of upheaval and
down-sinking which affect the earth's crust proceed uniformly
now, the catastrophic action witnessed in earthquakes and
volcanic eruptions being as nothing compared with the
steady but irresistible movements all the time going on.
Nay, one may almost say that eruptions and earthquakes
indicate rather the interruptions of the earth's vulcanian
work than its true progress. But the steady, as well as the
catastrophic, action of the earth's internal forces must be
recognised as fai- weaker now than it was in former ages.
The two forms of force are doubtless related to each other
in a nearly constant proportion, so that one may be inferred
when the other is known. Hence, though we cannot tell
from an}- direct evidence the energy of stead}' upheaval and
contraction possessed by the earth in past ages of her
history, for we have full evidence only as to work done and
no sutEcient evidence .as to the time occupied in doing the
work, we can safely infer what that energy was by noting
the evidence of the tremendous energy with which the
interruptions to that steady work went on.

Unquestionably the extrusion of matter in volcanic erup-
tions was a much more important work in past ages than
now. We cannot go back, indeed, to the beginning. We
cannot even form an opinion as to the volcanic energies of
the earth in Cambrian and Silurian times, which were by

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE

85

no means the earliest, though they are the earliest of which
we have clear pala^nntological records. The eruptive powers
of the earth during the whole of the jniuiary age must have
been enormously greater than during the secondary age;
but the tremendous results of the action of primary vol-
canoes have been removed millions of years since by sub-
aerial denudation. The eruptions of the secondary age,
again, must have been far more tremendous than those of
the tertiary age ; but even of those we have but few records
left. In fact, we need only consider the condition in which
the products of tertiary volcanic action are now left for our
study to understand how utterly unsatisfictory and imper-
fect must be the evidence e.vtant in regard to the volcanoes
of the secondary and primary periods.

In our own isles we find very remarkable evidence of
tertiaiy volcanic action, yet is that evidence at least as
impressive in what it suggests but leaves unsaid as in what
it actually reveals. The isles of JMuU and Skye may be
regarded as the wrecks of enormous volcanic mountiiins of
the tertiary age, probably more than a million years old.
Each was about 30 miles in diameter, and each about
13,000 feet, probablj', in height. Each continued for many
thousands of years to eject froui time to time enormous
masses of various kinds of lava, as well as scoriaj and lapilli,
such as Vesuvius and Etna eject, but in much greater quan-
tities. Of the size of those great volcanoes, and of the
tremendous energy of their eruptive powers, we have very
clear evidence. But the evidence wanting speaks in its
silence more impressively by far than the evidence still re-
maining. Of the vast mass of either volcanic mountain but
the merest fragments are now left. Low moinitains, little
more than hills, certainly not moi'e than a foui'th the
height of the former mountain masses, show where these
active volcanoes once stood. All the rest has been worn
and washed away by rain and wind, and snow and storm.
8o far back as the memory of man runs, Skye and AIull
were as they are now, so slowly, though so steadfastly, do
the denuding, like the upheaving, forces of the earth do
their work. Yet the clear signs remain that masses not
merely larger but many times larger than the whole present
mass of either island above the sea-level have been destroyed.
Probably seveu-eighths of the former material above the sea-
level has been carried away, and is now beneath the waves
of ocean. If all this has been done since the tertiary age,
what chance can there be of our detecting more than the
merest fragments of the volcanic products of the much-
longer secondary and primary periods, even though these
volcanic products were ejected on a much grander scale t In
yet another, and, indeed, a much more striking way, have
the interior forces of the earth in the tertiary' period left
records of their energy. In Montana and Wyoming a tract
as large as France and Germany together was covered with
basaltic lava to a depth of from six or seven hundred to
three or four thousand feet. In the region now occupied
by the British Islands, again, from Antrim to Mull and
Skye and far northwards, even perhaps continuously to the
Faroe Islands in one direction and to Iceland in another,
similar masses wei'e poured forth. In the Giant's C'auseway
this basaltic lava has a depth not exceeding anywhere 8(10
feet. But among the islands opposite the western shores of
Scotland there aie places where the lava shows a depth of
more than 3,000 feet. In the Faroe Isles a deptli four times
as great is indicated. The very circumstance, however,
that we can determine the present thickness of these
immense lava beds, compared with which all that has ever
been poured out by Etna and Vesuvius, or even by Ilecla, is
but as a lake compared with the sei, tells us that the original
thickness must have been much greatei', and that the
quantity whicli has worn and crumbled away under the

action of the denuding forces of air and water must prob-
ably have equalled, if it did not exceed, even those immense
masses which still remain. On the north-eastern shores of
Ireland and along tl)e south-eastern parts of Scotland we
see wheie the ocean has cut its way into the basaltic lava,
easting down the columnar blocks into which the lava had
formed itself as it .shrank. The regularity of the hexagonal
form in most parts of the causeway is as directly a result of
physical law, it may be mentioned, as the hexagonal form of
the honeycomb. The basalt simply gave way, in shrinking,
where resistance to cleavage was most easily overcome ; and
so, where uniform in material, produced uniformly hexagonal
blocks, just as the bee working so as to )ise up the least
amount of wax produces hexagonal cells, unconscious of the
fact that it is working out a pretty mathematical pi-oblem.
While the slow wearing away of the basaltic masses by the
sea waves went on, the whole upjjer surface was undergoing
steady denudation. Frost and thaw, snow and rain, the
drying action of the sun, followed by the work of the wind
in removing the dust into which the rock has been always
crumbling at its surface — all these processes, scarcely affect-
ing the aspect of the region appreciably in many centuries,
must have removed a large proportion of its original mass
during the hundreds of thousands of years which have
elapsed since it was extruded. In IMontana and Wyoming,
indeed, we find comparative youth ; but the way in which
such youth is indicated shows what an extreme old age it
signities as compared with the periods l)y which we measure
history. For the rivers and torrents, which in past ages
have worked those channels into the rock which ai'e called
canons, have not as yet worked their way down more than
seven or eight hundred feet, many having run dry after
doing that portion of the work of channel carving. When
we see how slowly even the fierce rapids and mighty falls of
Niagara cut awaj' the rocks between and over which they
rush, we can infer the vastness of the periods of which the
great canons of the north-western States give evidence.

All the work which Etna and Vesuvius have done since
they first existed as volcanic outlets belongs but to the
closing and comparatively restful portion of the history of
the great mountain system of Southern Eui-ope. They are
but flank outlets, no more to be compared with the original
fissures through which the core of the Alps was extruded
millions of years ago, than the small side craters on their
own slopes with the chief vents by which Etna and
Vesuvius aflbrd the intern.al forces of the earth relief. For
hundreds of thousands of years those original fissures poured
forth molten masses. For still vaster periods the region of
fissure-ejection sank beneath a wide-spreading sea : foot by
foot, yard by yard, mile by mile, the trough sank and
sedimentary matter was deposited in it (so that the sea
remained ever shallow), till strata ten miles deep had been
formed. Then, during hundreds of thou.sands of years, the
sea-floor, shrinking all round, shouldered up the great core
of deposited matter, bending, grinding, and contorting it till,
witli the tremendous heat generated in the process, its whole
character was altered. Denuding forces carved and chiselled
out of the heterogeneous material the nuunitain peaks which
now alone remain of the upheaved dome-shaped masses.
Along the chief lines of original disturbance there is now
no longer volcanic activity. On the flanks even volcanic
action has for the most part died out ; but far away from
the core, flanking the flanks as it were of the great
mountain ranges, we find a few disturbed regions, whose
outlets we see in Etna, Vesuvius, Stromboli, and the rest.
An outburst like the one lately in i>rogress, representing as
it does but a remnant ot a remnant of the pa.'^t vulcanian
energies of South Europe, atte:i'.s most strikingly the over-
whelming might of those energies in the past. — Times.

86

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[Febeuary 1, is

'J'HK Night Skies in the Southern Hemisphere. — For Index Map see opposite page.

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

By Richard A. Proctor.

OWING to the iDgeniously-distmbing arrangements made
by the Post-office authorities in regard to the American
mails, I have not yet received proofs of the map which will

appear in this month's Knowledge. Fortunately, the
exjilanatory letterpress accompanjing the maps which have
already appeared will suffice to show how the map of this
month is to be interpreted. It will be understood that in
this map, as in the other.-, the horizontal line eg w marks
the horizon for England, the prime vertical for the Southern
heavens.

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^-LEDGE ♦

87

' For

Januakv,

KEBRUARY,

and

March.

THE STARS

OF

SOUTHERN SKIES

(between Soutli

Latitudes 24° and 40°)

The Night Skies ix the Southern Hemisphere (Lat. 46' to 24' S) and

THE SOUTHEKX SKIES IX EXGLASD (UpPER HALF OF MAP ONLY) : —

At 1 o'clock, morning ... . February 6.

., 12..30 February 14.

„ Midnight February 21.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night March 1.

,11 March 8

10..?0 „ March 16.

At 10 o'clock, niglit March 2.H.

„ 9.30 , March 30.

„ 9 April 7.

„ 8.30 April 14.

„ 8 „ April 22.

„ 7.30 , April .SO.

88

♦ KNO^A^LKDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887.

ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

MAP No. II. is unavoidably postponed till next month.

THE FIFTEEN SCHOOLGIRLS' PUZZLE.

E have received from Mr. (Jarpmael a very
full ditscussion of this problem, as dealt with
by him in the proceedings of the Mathe-
matical Society. For the present, howevei',
we can only find space for the following
suggestive comments by " Mogul " :

I note that you omit all reference to a
mode of solving the schoolgirls' puzzle on
quite diJferent ]irinci]iles to any of those referred to in your
last article, and which mode may be thus described :

Describing the girls by the numbers 1 to
15 instead of by letters ; thus let 1 remain
in the same place all the 7 days, then
arrange the remaining 1 4 in two series of 7
each, so that on ea-ch succeeding day evei'y
number shall occupy the place occupied the
day before by the next numbei- in the
series — e.g. suppose one series commenced
2, 10, 13, itc, then 2 would always go
where 10 was the preceding day, and the 10 be moved on to
where the 13 was, itc. It does not i-equir'e much considera-
tion to .show that one of the series will commence with 2
and the other with 3, so that each of these numbers may on
every seventh daj' revert to the first row, and not come into
it till then. The difliculty consists in airanging the other
numbers so that in the isolation of the two series no two
numbers who have ever once nwt shall ever meet again.
One solution on this pilneiple — for there ai'e many of them —
is as under :

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

(1) 1 2 3 (2) 1 14 7

4 5 6 15 11 8

7 8 9 5 3 12

10 11 12 6 10 2

13 14 15 4 13 9

(5) 1 15 10 (6) 1 9 6

2 8 5 U 3 11

6 11 13 .s 1(1 4

7 3 4 5 7 15
12 9 14 2 12 13

(3) 1 13 5

9 10 3

117 2

8 6 14

15 4 12

(4) 1 4 11

12 6 7

10 5 14

3 S 13

9 15 2

And the two series are :

2 12 9

15

4

13

3 8 6

1(1

11

5

(7) 1 12 8 (8) 1 2 3

13 7 10 4 5 6
3 6 15 7 8 9

11 5 9 10 11 12

14 2 4 13 14 15

11

The si.xteen whist-players can easily be solved in the
way. One solution is :

(1) 12 3 4

5 6 7 8

9 10 11 12

13 14 15 16

(2) 1 6 12 16 (3)
2 10 15 7
5 9 3 14
11 13 4 8

1
G

0

3

10
9
5

11

14

4

12

16

S
15
13

7

(4) 1 9 13 7

10 5 16 4

6 2 14 11

12 3 8 15

(5) 1 5 11 15 (6)

9 2 8 16

10 6 13 3

14 12 7 4

1

5

9

13

0

li
1(1
1 1

3

11
15

4

8
12
1(1

There being three series as follows :

2 5 9 10 6

3 11 13 14 12

4 15 7 8 16

These series are found out partly by lule and partly ten-
tatively. Where the numbers run high, the tentative part
admits of so many variations that it is very difficult to hit
on the right one; and I must confess that though I have
almost hit upon two series of 10 each to solve the puzzle of
the 21 girls going out for 10 consecutive days in 7 rows of 3
each without any 2 ever meeting twice in the second row, I
liave not yet quite sucL-eeded. I wonder whether Mr. East
Mar.sden, who in your number for March 23, 1883, gave
such a very clever solution of this very puzzle, could find
out the two series; for I am convinced they must exist.

"Mogul" also sends a solution of the problem of 16
whist-players by the method we followed.

ASTRONOMY AT OUR EDITOR'S AMERICAN
HOME.

HE following i>aper, while allowing readers
of Knowledoe to congratulate themselves
on the potent influence which their faithful
editor has been able to exert (foi- we must
believe everything read in the newspapers)
iin the progress of astronomy in Western
America, will also serve at once to give a
good example of American ncw.spaper jocularity and of the
use of particular phrases in the land of the free — and easy.
It is "the text of a communication to the 8t. Louis Glohe-
Democrat, written under the date of St. Joseph, August 21,
in which the writer tells how the good people of this city
have gone daft on asti'onomy, and how abstruse scientific
problems are taking the place of practical questions of the
day " : —

In accordance with your positive instructions to proceed
by first train to this city, "for the purpose of making a
thorough investigation into the effect which the residence of
Professor llichard A. Proctor in St. Joseph has had thus far
upon the mental condition of its inhabitants," and to " lay
the result of the inquiry before the readers of the Glohe-
Democri(t without unnecessary delay," I have the honour to
report as follows :

It was only when I reached Richmond and Lexington
Junction, several hours distant from St. Joe, that I began
to feel how powerful and widespread had Professor Proctoi's
influence become, While the train was resting at the
junction 1 overhead the baggage- master .saying to the
conductor :

" There will be a meeting of the Pateetown Philosophical
and Astronomical Society this evening. We are going to
discuss the physical features of Jupitei'. Can't you drop in
and see us f "

" I am very sorry," replied the conductor, " but a brief
lecture which I have promised to deliver before the Perigee
Club of North St. Jo.seph will preclude the possibility of my
attendance."

" On what subject will you address the club?" asked the
baggage-mastei'.

" Oh, I simply desire to lay before it a few thoughts which
I have prepared on the perturbations of Uranus," replied the
conductor.

It was then that I began to realise the importance of my
commission, for I felt that I must be shortly landed in the
very vortex of philosophical and astronomical disputation.
If the railroad men, seventy-three miles away from the Pro-
fessor's new American home, were tilled with a burning
desire to explore the mysteries of stellar space, what, thought

February 1, 188".]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

89

I, must be the passionate intensity of feeling among those
who live in his immediate neighbourhood 1 Contemplation
of the experience in store for me served only to magnify the
dimensions of the task which I had been detailed to per-
form, and were it not that '• Peanuts " came along on one of
his raids through the train and pushed a volume into my
hand, I might have been tempted to abandon the under-
taking.

I was about to toss the book a.side, thinking that it was,
perhaps, a Life of Jesse James or a History of Anderson's
Raid, this class of literatore being popular throughout
North-west ^Missouri, and for sale on ever)- train, when my
eye accidentally fell upon the title — "Apparent Motions of
the Planets, by General James Cr;ug." I called the •' candy
butcher," and, s;\id I, " Is the General James Craig who has
written this book a resident of St. Joseph ] "

" Yes," replied Peanuts, " Gen. Jim Craig ; don't you
know him ? "

" Why, of course I know Jim Craig," said I, " but I
didn't know he was writing books, and least of all books of
this character."

" Oh, that's where ye'r off," replied the uncultured candy
butcher, " they've all got it."

"All got what?" I asked.

" This yer astronomy craze — they're all cranky on the
stars."

" You don't mean to tell me that the citizens of St.
Joseph are all writing books on astronomical subjects 1 "

" "Well, prettj' much all of 'em. This is Jim Craig's third —
here's the other two. I sell 'em for a doUar apiece, or three
for two an' a half."

He handed me the volumes. One of them was entitled
" The Rings of Saturn — Are They Round or Oblong ? " and
the other " Density of the Fixed Stars."

" How long has this been going on ? " I asked.

" Since Professor Proctor kem over," replied the boy.

He then handed me a volume on " Lunar Oacultation of
the Skirs," by SUas Woodson, ex-governor of Missouri ;
another on the " Parabolic Motion of Comets," by James
N. Burnes, M.C. ; another on " Xebular Hypothesis," by
Hon. Waller Young ; another on " Meteoric Showers," by
John Edwards, of the Gazette ; another on the " Celestial
Axis," by Dr. E. A. Donelan, member of the Missouri
legislature, and several others on various astronomical sub-
jects, all written by citizens of St. Joseph.

" Do you find a ready sale for these works t " I asked.

" They go beautifully," said Peanuts. " The people up
this way don't read nothing else now. 1 can't sell no other
kind of books to 'em."

" And do they pay well 1 "

" Yes, I should say so ; There ain't much profit on 'em,
but we just sell stacks."

When the train reached Plattsburg newsboys made their
appearance with the St. Joseph morning papera. " Here's
the Gazette 1 Full account of the discovery of a new
planet I " I bought a copy. The telegi-aphic and local
news was given a secondary place on the inside, but the
astronomical intelligence appeared under flaming headlines
on the first page. Such lines as " Another Triumph of
Science," " A St. Joseph Astronomer Discovers a Xew
Planet," " The Queen City of the Missouri Valley again in
the Lead," " StartUng Intelligence," " Rumoured Collision
in the High Heavens," " A Star of the Third Magnitude
Run Down b)' Jupiter," " August Meteors," " A Magnifi-
cent Spectacle Last Night," " Ten Thousand Telescopes
Pointed toward the Sky," " Finest Display of the Season,"
took the place of those which usually greet the eye of the
reader in the daily newspaper.

Milton Tootle, a wholesale merchant and one of the

biggest capitalists in the North- West, boarded the train at
Plattsburg. I introduced myself to him, and we con-
vereed for a few moments upon the weather, the condition
of trade, politics, ifcc, but he suddenly gave me a blow
between the ej'es with the question :

" Do you think that the stars which cover the universe
are properly distributed through space 1 "

" I have not given the subject much thought of late," I
replied, for I had to say something, " but my impression is
that they ai-e not."

" But why do you think they are not ] " he asked.

This question took me by surprise. The subject was one
I knew absolutely nothing about, and I was unprepared to
discuss it. I thought I would make a break of some kind,
however, so I looked him steadily in the eye and answered :

'■ Because Sir John Her.schel tells us that, from a numerical
estimate of the stai-s, there are more in some places than there
are in othei-s. Therefore I di'aw the inference that they are not
properly — I should, perhaps, say evenly — distributed. It
stands to reason that, if there are more stars on one side
than there ai-e on the other — there must be some difference
between the "

" Yes. yes, i understand," said Mr. Tootle, rather petu-
lantly, I thought ; " we will say no more about it. Read
my book on the subject, and 3'ou will be able to talk more
intelligently upon simple questions of this kind."

When the train arrived at the Union Deput, the first
sounds that reached my ear were, " Carriage here for the
Mars House," "Take the street car for the Venus Hotel,"
■■ Take the Ursa Major, best two-dollars a day hotel in the
city," " Step this way for the Mercury, right in the business
centre."

" I want to go to the Pacific House," I said to a police-
man ; " where will I find it ? "

•' There is no Pacific House now," he said ; " j-ou are
evidently in search of the Arcturus — take the 'bus."

I took the 'bus and was soon bumping through the streets
of the cultured city. On the way to the hotel I observed
large numbers of schoolchildren, evidently going home to
their noontime lunch. Most of them carried ponderous
volumes in theii- hands, but many had their books cjirted
behind them in a wheelbarrow. I remarked to a fellow-
passenger that St. Joseph must be a great educational
centre.

" The greatest on earth," said he. " During the past two
months it has become the Athens of America. Ever since
Professor Proctor married a St. Joseph girl there lias been
a great educational revival going on here ; but it was only
when he came here to live that the matter began to look
serious. As it is, heaven onlj- knows where it is going to
end," and my fellow-passenger .sighed.

" You live here 1 "

" Oh, yes, I live here. I left about a month ago
expecting that the epidemic would have exhausted itself
before this time, but I return only to find it raging with
greater virulence than ever. You see how bad it is I "

He pointed in the direction of a saloon on the window of
which was the sign, " The Gemini Sample-room — sidereal
entrance Sundays."

" As if that wasn't enough," he continued. " Look here ! "

He pointed to a barber shop with the sign, " Transit
Tonsorial Parlours," swinging across the side walk in front.

" Will you want aroom with a telescope in it ? " asked the
clerk of the Ai'cturus when I had registered my name.

" No," I replied, " I want a i-oom with a wash-stand, a
pitcher of water, a bowl, and a bed in it."

"Front," .said the clerk, whose diamond sparkled like a
morning star, "show this gentleman to 321, fifth constella-
tion. It is a good room," he continued, "convenient to the

90

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887

roof, from which you can watch the meteoric display
to-night."

" I didn't come here to see meteoric displays at night," I
replied, rather coldly. " If you've got a room where I can
sleep comfortably you can give my share of the meteoric
display to the other guests."

" Step this way," said the bell-boy, and he led the way
to the fifth storey. " This is a daudy-room," he observed.
" You will have a boss view of the big bear to-night."

" Will you tell me about what time I can get a boss view
of a big dinner ^ " I asked.

" Dinner is ready now, sir. Will you have your
instruments brought up to the room t "

" What instruments 1 "

" Your telescopes and things f " said the boy.

" I haven't got any telescopes," said I warmly. " Do you
take me for a sea captain ? "

" No, sir ; but nearly all the gentlemen as stops here has
telescopes."

" Well, I haveia't. I've got nothing but a clean under-
shirt, two collars, a paii' of socks, and some writing-paper.
Lead the way to the banquet hall."

Being seated by a distinguished-looking darkey, I picked
up the bill of fare. The menu was a remarkable one, and,
as I am expected to go into the details, I give it in full.
This is what I had to select my dinner from :

Menu.

Arcturus Hotel, Monday, August 18.

Souj>s.

Lunar Shadow, Solastic, Scorpio.

Fisli.

Cetus, with Molecular Sauce ; Sign of the Crab, with

Zodiacal Gravy.

Meats,

Aries on Toast, Capricornus Sliced, Lepus Roasted, Taurus Steak.

Game.

Aquila on the Wing, Cervus Pie, Cygnus Stew, Lepus Fried.

Vei/etables.

Potatoes Boasted il la Juno, Cabbage Orion, Onions

Nebular, Cucumbers Comestic.

Drinks.

Milky Way, Tycho Tea, Corona Borealis Coffee.

Dessert.

Centrifugal Doughnuts, Periodic Pie, Ecliptic Pudding.

The food isn't as bad as it appears to be in the above bill
of fare, and as soon as I had satisfied my appetite I ventured
out on the street. The first man I met was Frank Posegate,
manager of the St. Joseph Steam Printing Company. [
asked him what he thought of the political situation, and he
said :

" That isn't the question we are interested in here at
present. You see, I am president of the Dug Hill Ecliptic
Society, and we are collecting money to build an observatory.
That is Dug Hill — that high bluff you see rising above the
river to the left. We want to place an observatory on that
hill that will equal the Lick Observatory in California. If
we succeed in raising the money the discoveries we expect
to make will dazzle the world."

" What discoveries do you expect to make, by the way ? "
I asked.

" We expect to discover, for instance," said Mr. Posegate,
" that the planets do not follow regular paths between the
stars, and that one of these days a large planet will plunge
into the orbit of some of the stars and smash them all to
pieces. The result, in such an event, would be disastrous
to many heavenly bodies, and the flying particles of busted
stars would be apt to work great injury to our growing
crops. What we want is to establish a signal oftice on Dug
Hill, so that the moment the planet strikes in among the
stars we can give warning to the agricultural classes. Say,

do you believe that our planetary system has not been
sensibly diminished by the incessant emission which has
gone on during the period of man's history 1 "

" No, I cannot say that I do," replied the Globe- Democrat
reporter.

"Then read my book," said Mr. Posegate, "my book on

' Atmospheric Friction.' Read it and you will be convinced."

" Are you taking much interest in the origin of solar

heat in St. Louis 1 " asked Mr. R. L. McDonald, one of the

leading dry goods merchants, of your reporter.

" Yes, indeed," I replied ; " we are probably taking moi'e
interest in solar heat just at present than in any other kind
of heat, it being rather early to think of base burners,
furnaces, or radiators."

" You misunderstand me," he said. " I alluded to the
origin of solar heat — to the meteoric theory, so to speak.
I have just written a small pamphlet of 300 pages on the
subject. If you are not in a huriy I will read it to you."

I said I was in a desperate hurry, as I wanted to catch a
train.

" Well," said he, catching me by the coat collar, " you
understand that a pound weight which has fallen 772 feet
will create a unit of heat. We know that a body falling
that distance will acquire a velocity of about 223 feet a
second. Now, I propose to sink a shaft 772 feet deep in
this city, into which pound weights shall be continually
dropped, with an apparatus for bringing them to the surface
again. I expect to create an intense body of heat thereby ;
and when I have demonstrated the feasibility of my scheme
I will organise a company to lay pipes from this shaft
throughout the city, and we will be able to furnish heat at
the rate of 10 cents per 1,000 feet to residences and business
houses, entirely doing away with the necessity of stoves for
cooking or heating purposes."

I went into a gentlemen's furnishing store to purchase a
cheap necktie. When I had selected the article I wanted
the clerk said :

" I don't agree with the leading article in the Gazette of
this morning, which says that afiinity, cohesion, and gravita-
tion are the forces which are constantly tending to convert
potential into actual energy."

" The devil you don't," said I, trying to make a bow-knot
with both ends the same length in the tie I had just paid
for ; " then, what do you believe, if it is a fan- question t "

" I believe that actual energy can be converted from the
potential by the application of heat."

" I have seen," said I, for I felt bored, " potential con-
verted into actual energy by the application of a boot."

The clerk wasn't crushed. He simply replied, " Yes ; but
that is what we call mechanical energy — the boot being, let

us say, projected at an angle of forty-five deg "

But I fled.

I went into a saloon to get a glass of ginger ale, and, as
I stirred the sugar at the bottom, the barkeeper said :

" I have been thinking all morning that the vibration of
a free pendulum in a vacuum can be explained only on the
suppo.sition that a moving body always tends to move in a
straight line, and with an unvarying velocity."

" I quite agree with you," said I, " let me illu.strate." I
took my drink and made a bee line for the door.

There is not a solitary spot in this town where a man can
go to escape from them — yes, there is just one place in all
St. Joseph where astronomy and its attendant evils are not
discussed. That is at Professor Proctor's home. The weary
stranger, driven to the verge of madness, will find an asylum
of rest and repose in the house of the Professor's family,
and there only. Only two men have attempted to talk
astronomy to the eminent scientist since his arrival here.
One of them was found in the Professor's well a few weeks

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

91

later; the other has, it is believed, been used to test the
strength of some new chemical acids which the great
astronomer lias recently invented.

The above is all I have been able to gather on the sub-
ject. Respectfully submitted, Antares.

<B 0 sieiip*

By Richard A. Proctor.

A PERSON who proposes to write lives of great men of
science, but who " does not pretend to know anything
about the subjects in which those men of science became
distinguished," a.sks me if I will not revise his "Life of
Copernicus " for the press. No, emphatically, I will not.
Nor will I revise a betting bookmaker's list of swindling
wagers. Nor have I any hints to offer in aid of any other
system of wrong-doing.

My Bristol correspondent tells me I have wronged him,
for which I am sorry. He also implies that his one sole
object is to make me admit that the Bible is grander than
the solar system. I take it the Bible was a product, directly
or indirectly, of our earth, which is a part of the solar
.system. A product of a part cannot be greater than the
whole. But if my angry friend will write out an abstract
of the first two chapters of the Book of Proverbs, he will
not waste paper, and he may learn a lesson, which a careful
study of the Book of Job will strengthen. He will not
guess my meaning ; but I can't help that.
* * *

An odd mistake appeared recently in an American paper.
A translation from a note by M. Camille Flammarion
••ippeared with the stnxnge suffix, " From the Camilla (Ga.)
Flammarion" (Camilla is the name of a small town in
Cieorgia, and Flammarion is suppo.sed to be the name of
a local paper). There have been odder names, too.
* * *

A CORRESPONDENT asks my opinion on the assumption
made by Kovesligethy that the solar system is travelling
towards the part of the star-sphere in R.A. 216°'0 and
N. Dec. 35 ^1, whereas in the Encyclopedia Britannica
I have assumed the direction of the sun's motion to
be towards R.A. 260° and N. Dec. 30°. In the first
place, my opinion is that the sun's motion in space
cannot be regarded as determined with any approach
to accuracy. In the large plate of proper motions at
the end of my " Universe of Suns" the varioas determina-
tions made by the elder Hei-schel, Argelander, Miidler,
O. Struve, and othere, are shown, and it ■will be observed
that the position I indicate in the Enct/clopcfdia Britannica
is a very fair me;in of all those widely difierent positions. I
cannot but fancy the 216° of Herr K.'s assumed apex
for the solar way must be a misprint for 246°, as none
of the determinations made by astronomers fall in Bootes,
as this value for the R.A., with 3.5° for the North Dec, would
set them. If, however, Herr K. has trusted in spectroscopic
evidence to determine the position of the point towards
which the solar system is ti-avelling, I can understand any
amount of error. For though, as I long since pointed out,
the spectroscopic evidence will probably be hereafter found
the most trustworthy we can have on this subject, it is at
present altogether too imperfect to be used in the discussion
of such a problem as this. I would refer my correspondent
to my " Essays on Astronomj-," in which the whole subject
is fully dealt with ; but that book is now out of print, and I

cannot in the present depr&ssed state of afiairs go to the
expense of publishing a new edition. Perhaps when a
larger public is able to turn from business anxieties to
scientific studies I may do so. But it will probably be a
long time hence.

The following letter, like the one last referred to, is of
somewhat ancient date, being now more than six months
old, I found it among a batch received when I was leaving
England in June 1885, and put awaj' so carefully as to have
escaped notice till now :

If, as you suppose in your first paper in tlie April number of
Knowledge, the Jewish Passover was originally a feast in celebra-
tion of the passing of the sun over the equator at the vernal
equinox, how do you account for the fact that the time of its
celebration was determined without any reference to that astro-
nomical event ? This very year, for instance, the Passover, reckoned
as of old from the first new moon in April, fell on April 20, nearly a
month after the equinox. R. M. Spence.

* * *

There is no difficulty whatever in the point to which
Mr. Spence here refers. We know that primarily the
equinoxes were determined from the moon's motions, and
the religions festivals or fasts associated with astronomical
events had their origin in times when astronomical obser-
vations were, as yet, only rough. But apart from this, the
rules assigned for determining the days for such festivals and
fasts must be such as the unlearned can conveniently apply.
No one doubts that the week had its origin in the moon's
motions, or that originally it was really determined by the
moon's quarters, and so had to be corrected, as in later times
the year had to be. Yet now it goes on upon an easily
followed method, Sabbaths and Sundays having no con-
nection with the moon's movements. So naturally was it
with the two great annual movable festivals of the Jewish
calendar.

* * *

Mr. Spence added an interesting postscript ; —

The following extract from a letter which I sent to the Scntsman
on December 29, 1883, may not be without interest to you :

" On what historic grounds are we asked to regard December 25
as the anniversary of the Nativity ? Not on the authority
of Scripture, for it is silent. Not on the authority of the earlj'
Fathers, for about a natal day they, too, with one exception,
are silent ; and that one exception, Clement of Alexandria, when
he wrote his ' Stromateis ' (A.D. 190-202), had never heard of
December 25 as the day in question. He says (' Stromateis,' i. 21) :
' There are those who have determined not only the year of our
Lord's birth, but also the day, and thej' say that it took place in
the 28th year of Augustus, and on the 25th day of Pachon '
(May 20)." ' Others say that He was born on the 21th or 25th of
Pharmutha' (April 19 or 20). 'Not till the fourth century do we
hear of December 25. It was then ingeniouslj- adopted by the
Western Church, not on historic grounds, for they had none to go on,
but to make the appearance of ' The Sun of Righteousness ' coincide
with the resumed upward march of the natural sun, and to rival,
and ultimately displace, the Pagan festivals which celebrated that
physical event."

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT .sends me many interesting and curious
particulars relative to the names C'hrishna, Jeseus, the
mystic Yes, Chres, Chris, Christos, <tc., of which I may
hereafter make use.

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT in Americii (whence, by the way, I
have had many valuable hints) sends the following much
prettier (though practically the same) solution of the
problem of the sixteen whist-players :

{1st set. Ann, Henry, Jane, Andrew.

2nd „ JIary, John, Susan, Frank.

.3rd „ George, Laura, Tom, Sarah.

4th „ Charley, Clara, William, Kate.

92

♦ KNO\ArLKDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887

I 1st set. Anu, Laura, William, Frank.

2nd ,, Mar}', Clara, Tom, Andrew.

3rd „ George, Henry, Susan, Sarah.

4th „ Charley, John, Jane, Kate.

rist set. Ann, Mar}', George, Charley.
„ , , ) 2nd „ Clara, Laura, John, Henry,
drci Clay ; .^^^ ^^ j.^^^^^ Susan, Tom, William.

1.4th „ Sarah, Kate, Frank, Andrew.

ilst set. Ann, Clara. Susan, Sarah.

2nd „ Mary, Laura, Jane. Kate.

3rd ,, (Jeorge, John, William, Andrew. ■

4th „ Charley, Henry, Tom, Frank.

fl.st set. Ann, John, Tom, Kate.
2nd „ Mary, Henry, William, Sarah.
3rd „ George, Clara, Jane. Frank.
4th ,, Charley, Laura, Susan, Andrew.

Q. E. D.
* * *

The jirison puzzle in the December number (" Gossip,'
p. 13) may be solved in many ways if only the first few
steps are rightly taken. These steps must take the prisoner
into either of the cells adjoining his own, and back into his
own, after which he passes out through the other neigh-
bouring cell, and can thence find his way to the gate (ful-
filling the conditions) in more ways than I care to count.
It seems to me that this puzzle is rather a sell, because the
prisoner certainly has to go twice out of his own cell, and
can hardly, therefore, be said to have gone once, and once
only, through it. However, there is no better solution ;
and, as I would not promise any solution at all, I have not
been worse than my word.

« ^ ^

I HAVE received another solution of the nineteen trees in
ten rows problem, as shown in the accompanying figure.
The same correspondent remarks that solutions given in
figs. 2 and 3 (Knowledge, for November) are in reality
identical. I do not agree with him in this. For wherea

in one arrangement the trees at the angles of the outside
triangle fall towards the same direction (from the centre)
as the bases of the interior triangle, in the other they fall
towards the same direction as the angles of that triangle.
* * *
It is told of Colonel Horatio Ross that, besides being able
to shoot straight and stalk deer .staimchly — qualities of
themselves sulBcing, in days which made Archer a sort
of minor god, to raise him into the ranks of the major
heroes — he was '• second " in sixteen duels. The manner of
his seconding was far worthier to be recalled than the mere
fact, which, did it stand alone, might mean little to his
credit. In every case lie brought the principals to an
amicable and honourable understanding. This speaks
volumes for his sense and kindliness.

It must have been another Colonel Horatio Ross who
used to tell a story of a brutally-planned stee})lechase, in
which, following instructions, he rode down and nearly
killed a brother-officer, adding the semi-idiotic comment
that, he supposed, " in these shopkeeping days " had he
killed the other man — Captain Douglas — " it would have
been called wilful murder — but it was not so in 1826 — the
verdict would then have been justifiable homicide."

It would seem we have improved in some respects — any
way, in the sixty years since the time of the first " Locksley
Hall." Though it is not " shopkeeping " which has taught
us to regard savage horseplay with contempt. Napoleon
said we were " a nation of shopkeepers " years before the
gallant exploit of that other and inferior Colonel Ross.
(The latter may have intended some subtle reference to that
most multitudinous of all shopkeepers who erst presided
over the naval, and later over the military, affairs of Great
Britain.) There is no more necessary connection between
shop-keeping and common sense than there is between the
soldier's trade and such loutish ruffianism as the late C'olonel
Ross commended.

Fond Life : Insects. By Edwd. A. Butler, B.A. B.Sc.
(London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, &: Co. 1886.) — This
fresh volume of the " Young Collector " series will sufler
nothing in comparison with those of its predecessors, of
which we have spoken so favourably on former occasions in
these columns. Readers of Knowledge will need no re.
minder from us of the charm of Mr. Butler's style, and will
readily accept our assurance that in his most recent volume
our valued contributor is as readable and entertaining, as
well as scientifically exact, as ever. Everybody who is ever
likely to spend ten minutes on the bank of a pond should
buy this excellent manual straightway.

Anniversary Address of the President of the Royal Society
of Nem South Wales, delivered May 6, 1885 : Local Varia-
tions and Vibrations of the Eartlis Surface, and Results of
Rain and River Observations made in Xew South Wahs.
By H. C. Russell, B.A., F.R.A.S., &c.. Government Astro-
nomer for New South Wales. Sydney, N.S.W., 1886. — In.
the three pamphlets whose titles head this notice the
Government Astronomer at Sydney has made a valuable
contribution not only to our knowledge of the local
condition of the earth's crust, and of the meteorology
of New South Wales, but to terrestrial physics generally.
The European astronomer and physicist wUl be most
interested in Mr. Russell's description of the apparatus he
has erected on Lake George for automatically recording the
height of the water, such height varying and oscillating with
every undulation of the surface of the earth. While his in-
strument lacks the extraordinary delicacy of Professor Dar-
win's pendulum and reflecting mirror, yet while any change
in gravity, or in the direction of the vertical, in the latter
case only affects a base of a few feet, or at most a few yards
sqtiare, in the case of Lake George we have it acting on
a surface twenty miles long by some five or six miles wide.
Some of the results are very curious. Just as in Europe
the pendulum has been noted to swing northward, or away
from the Equator, during the day, and towards it at night;
so at Lake George the water runs away from the equator in
the daytime and approaches it at night. Mr. Russell
further applies his results to the investigation of the alleged
tilting of the piers of transit instruments, a portion of his
work of considerable interest to the practical astronomer, and
deals with the alleged rise of the land about Sydney, itc,
&c. ; in fact, as we commenced by saying, he has really
made a valuable contribution towards our knowledge of the
physics of the earth's crust.

First Year of Scientific Knotvledr/e. By Paul Bert.
(Relfe Brothers.) — We have no school-book of elementary
science which approaches this admirable work of the
lamented governor of Tonkin. There is not a dry page nor

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

93

a dull paragraph in it. Stones and soils, as well as birds
and flowers, are treated in a clear, chatty style, which almost
makes us forget how solid is the closely-packed knowledge
which it conveys. Each section is followed by a summai-y
and by subjects for composition, while the numerous illus-
trations, although small in scale, are drawn with accuracy
and high finish. Unlike most books, the book, like a bishop,
has not sutiered by translation, the excellence of which is
due to Madame Bert, herself a Briton. We note an error
on p. lii, where it is stated that " the earth gi-ew cooler by
turning and rolling through space," this being the opposite
of the fact. Heat is a form of energy, and the cooling of the
earth is due to the loss of that molecular energy which it
derived from the impact of its particles as they were drawn
from the gaseous to the soUd state.

The Granite Crags of California. By C. F. Gordon
CuMMlNG. (William Blackwood & Sons.) — Miss Gumming
is the cheeriest of globe-trotters. Age cannot wither nor
custom stale the variety of her trips and the vivacity of her
descriptions. If her drawings fail — as all attempts of the
kind must fail — to make us realise the astounding heights
of the trees and waterfalls of the Yo- Semite valley, the
letters which compose this book give vivid impressions of a
country which Ls a veritable paradise for farmers and wine-
gi'owers. The striking geological features of the canons, or
great chasms of the American continent ; the marvellous
growth of San Francisco from a log settlement on swamp
and sand plain to a city of 300,000, for whom the
beneficent authorities provide a free railway, and whose
dead are made life-like by the art of the enameller and the
dentist, and laid out in caskets lined with the loveliest rose
satin ; stories of the gold fever and of the merciless wars
between Christian whites and Heithen reds ; these, and the
freshly-written descriptions of C'aliforniau scener}-, are the
chief features of a hook which it is a pleasure to read from
cover to cover.

Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms and Superstitions of
Irelaiul, with Sketches of the Irish Past. By Lady Wilde.
(Ward & Downey.) — Now that folk-lore has taken rank as
a serious study, and the stories of beldames are found to
pr&serve the beliefs of a barbaric past, we expect a collector
to be more than a .story-teller. The accomplished com-
piler of these volumes has done her work so well that we
regret she has not done it better. The myths and legends
are all of deep interest and value, and have seemingly not
been touched-up in transfer from oral to written form, but
the defect, so far as their value to the student of compara-
tive mythology is concerned, is that only the scantiest clues
are given to the districts whence they were gathered. The
fullest information should have been furnished with each
tale as to narrator, place, and circumstance ; and we hope
that the issue of a second edition may enable Lady Wilde to
supply this omission, as well as to add an index. Her
introductory chapter on the origin and isolation of Irish
legends is based upon antiquated theories, while tlie closing
chapters on the past history of the island are marred b}'
references to " pre-Adamic rudimental humanity," which
imply retention of beliefs long discredited by anthro-
pologists.

Marcella Grace. By Rosa 3Iuliiolland. (Kegan Paul,
Trench, and Co.) — We do not leave Irish soil in passing to
notice this book, which lies in some danger of neglect
amongst the pile of novels of a season. This should not
be, for the .story is one of singular strength and pathos,
having special interest at the present time, when men's
minds are troubled with the " Condition of Ireland " question.
Not that Miss MulhoUand obtrudes part}- politics into her
vivid pictures of the peasantry and of the restless plotters

who work wild, rough revenge on the land-grabber and the
ejector ; but the political side of social troubles cannot be
ignored as giving significance to the story. The heroine is
no puppet of the three-volume pattern, and the prison-scene
in which her lover, on the eve of trial for a crime in which
he had no part, dissuades her from perjuring herself to save
him, is written with remarkable power. The book evidences
throughout gi'eat pains on the authoress's part, and we com-
mend it heartily to oiu- readers.

In connection with it, we welcome the re-publication of
The Late Miss HoUingford , an early tale of skilful construc-
tion by the same authoress, which was a great favourite
with Charles Dickens. Messra. Blackie and Son are the
publishers.

In the Wrong Paradise and Other Stories. By Andrew
Laxo. (Kegan Paul, Trench cfe Co.) — The story which
gives its title to this sparkling book is very amusing.
Each religion has its own paradise, and the fun — to the
reader — consists in the departed getting into the wrong
place. A Presbyterian minister finds himself in the
paradise of the Ojibbeways, where he makes sport for
the spirits, who scalp him at intervals, the scalp growing
again immediately to permit repetition of the operation.
In like manner a serious and shy University man finds
himself amongst bright and large-eyed houris in the " trans-
cendental Cremorne " of the Mohammedan paradise. But
the " Romance of the First Radical " interests us most. It
has the germs of the anthropological novel of the future,
which is to displace Fenimore Cooper's with his jiarvenu
savages. In this brightly- writ ten but shadowed nan-ative
of Whv-^'hy's troubles through adoption of the new-fangled
here.sy of private judgment, Mr. Lang draws upon his rich
store of knowledge of barbaric rite and custom. The reprint
of his clever jeu d'esprit, " The Great Gladstone Myth,"
adds value to the book.

For the facts which supply material for the coming
novelist of the pre-historic period, for whom Mr. Lang thus
paves the way, we may call attention to two books from the
pens of distinguLshed foreign savants, namely, Tlie Pre-
Hi-story of the Xorth, by the late Dr. Worsaae, translated
by H. MoRLAND Simpson (Trilbner &, Co.), and M. de
Qijatrefage's Introduction sur V Ettide des Races Huinaines,
the first volume of a general history of the races of mankind,
entitled La Bibliotheqiie Pthnologique (Paris: Hennuyer;
London : Triibner &, Co.) — Dr. Worsaae was the distin-
guished director of the Royal Museum of Northern Anti-
quities at Copenhagen, the most complete of its kind in
Europe, and the book under review gives a general and
pleasantly written survey of the results arrived at by com-
parative examination of prehistoric materials. The Danish
antiquaries were the first to throw light on the earliest-
known periods of human culture, and one important result
was the proof of agreement between the mode of develop-
ment in various parts of the world. A succinct account of
the Stone Ages, the enormous break between which the
learned author does not sufliciently insist upon, is followed
by local illustrations of their features in Northern Europe ;
and in treating of later epochs Dr. Worsaae supplies inte-
resting matei'ial bearing on the religious rites, and notably
on the worship of Thor, among Northern races. If his
volume adds little of novelty to the subject, it gives us the
judgment of an expert upon questions of lasting interest,
and it is entitled to a place by the side of Tylor, Nilsson,
Lubbock, and other authorities.

The work of M. de Quatrefages, as its title implies, is
more purely ethnological. In the opening chapters on the
place of man in the scale of organic life and on the theories
of his origin in one or more parts of the globe, the author

94

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887.

maintains the conservative view of his earlier works. We
in England are well supplied with books which, like Tylor's
" Anthropology," render the present work superfluous, with
the exception that we have nothing like it in the collection
of illustrations conveniently grouped inside one cover.

Avstraliana ; or, My Early Life. By Richmond Henty.
(Sampson Low & Co.) — There is a not unpleasant egotism
running throughout this book, the author of which can
boast of being the first white native of the first settlement
of Victoria. He has much of interest to tell us of the
aborigines of the Colony, upon whom the white man's fire-
water and other poisons have wrought theii- devastating
work, and of the early condition of the settlements at the
Antipodes. We wish that the space given to descriptions of
his visits to the Old World and to family afiairs, including
the uninteresting fact to outsiders that the author's marriage
took place in the presence of a large company at St. George's,
Hanover Square, had been filled with details of colonial
life. Upon this, however, the author has much to say that
will commend his book to intending emigrants.

Historic Tovms : London. By W. J, Loftie. (Long-
mans.)— This is the first volume of a series which will treat
of our principal towns with reference to the special part
which each has played in the general history of England.
The scheme is an admirable one, in view of the growing
revival of that municipal spirit amongst us which has made
England the nur.sing mother of free governments, and the
present volume could not have been entrusted to fitter
hands, Mr. Loftie having proved himself in all respects a
worthy successor of the chroniclers of the annals of this
mightiest and most intere.Kting of the world's cities. We
especially commend this volume to young men.

Very Short Stories. By Mrs. W. K. Clifford. (Walter
Scott.) — The authoress of " Anyhow Stories " gives fresh
evidence, in these peeps into the wonderment of child-life
and " snatches of mysterious song " which make up this
little book, of that weii-d power which attracts the old as
well as young to her stories. Thoughts, the significance of
which almost escape us in the simplicity of the language, are
scattered with no show of art amongst the prose and verse,
some of which is new, and the rest of which we are glad to
greet again in this cheap and tasty form.

All Bound the Clock, by H. M. Bennett and E. E.
Mack ; Christmas Roses ; and Under the Mistletoe, by
L. Lanon and R. E. Mack. (Griflith, Fai-ran, & Co.)— If
our notice of these charming books for children is a month
too late to commend them as Christmas gifts, it may, in
separating them from the crowd, secure them merited atten-
tion from all well-disposed sisters, cousins, and aunts who
have birthday presents in view. The illustrations in each
book are of exquisite softness.

The same publishers also send us a specimen of their
quaint and pretty Court Address Book, and of both Pettitt's
and Blackwood's Diaries. Messrs. Philips are to the fore
with a Jubilee Atlas, which suitably embraces maps of
Great Britain, India, and the Colonies. We have also
received Wltitaker's Almanack, with the present size and con-
tents of which indispensable annual we hope Mr. Whitaker
will rest as content as we are. St. Nicholas, which con-
tinues to be far and away the best magazine for young folks,
now passes into the enterprising hands of Mr. Fisher Unwin.
In Dickens's Christmas Carol and Chimes, Messi-s. CasseU
conclude the first year of their cheap and excellent weekly
issue entitled " The National Library." The most attractive
feature of the cun-ent number of Longman's Magazine is
Mr. Eider Haggard's " Allan Quatermain," a sequel to his
" King Solomon's Mines." Messi-s. Watson Brothers (Bir-
mingham) send us Parts IX. and X. of Mr. Teall's British

Petrography ; and Mr. Cole his instalment of Stmlies in
Microscopical Science, both of which issues maintain their
high excellence in test and illustration. The current num-
ber of Walford's Antiqimrian opens with an interesting
paper, the first of a series, on " Domesday Book," and gives
a sprightly absti-act of that rare book of travels — •' Tom
Coryate's Ciudities."

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR FEBRUARY.

By F.E.A.S.

HE continued quiescence of the sun's surface
renders him a very uninteresting object in the
telescope. The night sky will be found depicted
in map ii. of " The Stars in their Seasons."
Minima of Algol will occur at Ih. 12m. A.M. on
the 8th, at lOh. Im. p.m. on the 10th, at 6h. 50m.
P.M. on the 13th, and at other times too incon-
venient for the ordinary amateur obser%-er. Mercury
is an evening star, and at the end of the mon'h
on very clear evenings may be detected with the naked eye a little
above the horizon, somewhat to the south of west. Venus is an
evening star too, and, like Mercury, may be seen for a short time
after sunset at the end of February. Mars is invisible, and -Jupiter
does not rise until between ten and eleven o'clock at night, even at
the end of the month. Saturn is visible all night long, and is a
splendid object in the telescope. He is quite close to the star
5 Geminorum (" The Stars in their Seasons,'' map ii.). Uranus is
out of sight. Neptune remains in the position some 65° south, and
just to the west of the Pleiades, to which reference has been made
more than once lately in these columns (" The Stars in their
Sensons," map i.). The moon enters her first quarter at 8h. 26-8m.
a.m. on the 1st, and is full at lOh. 43 3m. on the morning of the
8th. She enters her last quarter at Ih. 32m. a.m. on the 15th, and
is new at 9h. 40-2m. P.M. on the 22nd. Of the eight occultations
of stars by the moon which will happen during February, four only
occur at times convenient for the amateur. They are as follow : —
On the evening of the 3rd at 6h. 26m. P.M., B A.C. 1526, a star of
the 6th magnitude, will disappear at the moon's dark limb at an
angle of 122° from her vertex, reappearing at her bright limb at
7h. 24m. P.M. at a vertical angle of 233°. On the 6th, 3 Cancri, a
6th magnitude star, will disappear at the dark limb at tlh. 17m. p.m.
at a vertical angle of 77°. It will reappear at the bright limb at
lOh. 27m. P.M., at an angle of 239° from the vertex of the moon. On
the 7th, 54 Cancri, of the 6ith magnitude, will disappear at the dark
limb of the moon at 4h. 2ym. P.M., at an angle of 77° from her vertex.
It will reappear at her bright limb at 5h. 14m. P.M., at a vertical
angle of 195°. Lastly, on the 11th, 46Virginis, a 6th magnitude star,
will disappear at the bright limb of the moon at llh. 17m. p.m., at a
vertical angle of 23°, to reappear at her dark limb at 19 minutes
after midnight at an angle of 226° from her vertex. At noon to-day
the moon is in Aries (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.), which
at midnight she quits for Taurus. She is travelling across Taurus
until 5h. 30m. P.M. on the 4th, at which hour she arrives on the
boundary of the northern extension of Orion. When by 5 o'clock
in the morning of the 5th she has traversed this, she emerges in
Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). Her passage through
Gemini occupies her until Sh. 30m. P.M. on the 6th, when she enters
Cancer ; which she quits in turn for Leo, at 6h. A.M. on the 8th.
She is crossing Leo until 3h. P.M. on the 10th, passing at that hour
into Virgo (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.). She remains in
Virgo until 2h. p.m. on the 13th, when she enters Libra (" The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxvi.). In the course of her journey
through Libra, she comes at 8h. 30m. A.M. on the 15th to the
western edge of the narrow northern strip of Scorpio. By 6 o'clock
the same evening she has crossed this and entered Ophiuchus.
Passing through this part of Ophiuchus and a little bit of the
extreme southerly part of Serpens, she enters Sagittarius at noon
on the 17th. At midnight on the 19th she leaves Sagittarius for
Capricornus ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.). Skirting the
boundaries of Capricornus and Aquarius, after the early morning of
the 21st, she finally enters the last-named constellation at 4h. A.M.
on the 22nd. At 6h. A.M. on the 24th she passes out of Aquarius
into Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). She is journeying
through Pisces until noon on the 27th, when she quits that great
straggUng constellation for the north-west corner of Cetus. By
4h. A.M. on the 28th her journey across this is completed, and she
has left it for Aries ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). She is
still in Aries at midnight on the 28th.

February 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOVSTLKDGE ♦

95

#ur CI)f6ei Column.

By " Mephisto."

USEFUL END-GAMES.
Black.

White.
White to move and draw.

The above end-game position contains several points of interest
which should receive the attention of chess students, and which we
will endeavour to explain fully.

Firstly, in order to draw. White plays

1. Kt to B2 (ch) 1. K to B6

2^ Kt to Esq

The opportunity often occurs to play Kt to Rsq in a similar
position, and then, if the adversary's King attempts to capture the
Knight, to play K to Esq and B2 perpetually; we have shown before
that, in such a position, a King alone can draw against a King,
Pawn, and Knight, provided that the King occupies a square of the
same colour as that on which the Knight stands, as per example
Black K to QR8. P to QR7. Kt to Kl. K on Qsq, White to move.
White plays Kto Esq and draws, but K to I'.2 loses.

2 2. K to Kt7

3. K to Q2 3. K X Kt

3. P to B4 would make no difference in the position, as White would
play his K or Kt backwards and forwards.

4. K to Esq or (a) 4. P to E3 1

Here we have a good illustration of the importance of losing a
move. 4. P to E4 instead would have lost, as the following will
show:— 4. P to B4. .">. K to B2, P to E5. 6. K to Bsq, P to E6.
(tf P to Kt4 instead White mates in 5 moves by P to Ro, &c.)
7. K to B2, P to Kt4. 8. P to R.3 and mates in i moves. Black
can only draw if he advances P to Kt4 when the White K is on
Bsq, and his own P on his E6, to prevent White checking when the
EP goes to Queen.

5. K to B2 5. P to B4

6. K to Bsq 6. P to B5

7. K to B2 7. P to E6

8. K to Bsq 8. P to Kt4 !

Here, again, we see that calculation and caution are necessary,
_for it Black had played 8. P to E7 instead. White would have won
by 9. K X P, P to Kt4, and White mates in four moves.

IE now 9. P X P, P to B7, and the game will be drawn. It is
curious to note, however, that if White on his last move had
attempted to play the move, which won in former positions, namely,
9. P to R.5, it would have lost, although White Queens (irst, because
Black will Queen with a check, as the White King stands on 3sq,
and the Black P on B6 prevents White Queening with a check first.
Black played 4. P to B3 instead of 4. P to B4, in order to bring this
position about. If, instead of 9. P x P,
9. P to R5
10 P to R6

11. PtoR7

12. P to R8 (Q)

13. K to B2

14. KxP
and Black wins.

(a) Reverting again to Move 4, we find that if White plays instead
of 4. K to E sq—

4. K to E2 4. P to B4 I

Black must play 4. P to B4 for the same reason which compels him
to play P to B3 in answer to White's former move of 4K to Bsq, as
otherwise he would lose, i.e. 4. P to B3 ; 5. K to Esq, P to B4 ;

9.

P to Kt5

10.

P to Kt6

11.

P to Kt"

12.

P to Kt8 (Q) ch

13.

Q to QKt8 (ch)

14.

Q to Kt7 (ch)

K to B2, P to Kt4 ;
Pto E5

6. K to B2, P to Bo ; 7. K to Bsq, P to B6 ;
9. P to R5 ; and mates in four moves.

5. K to Bsq

6. K to B2 6. P to B6

7. K to Bsq

and we have the same position as before in which Black pl.ays P to
Kt4, &c.

»• ^'m m m"^

WurrK.
White to play and win.
This end-game likewise shows the importance of gaining time in
order to maintain an opposition.

The White King deserves the vulgar epithet of "the sneak," for
he literally sneaks into a winning position, as the following will
show : —

1. K to R3 I 1. Kto Kt3

2. K to Kt2 I 2. K to R4

3. K to Kt3 I 3. K to R3

4. K to B3 4. K to R4

White has already gained a most important move ; for if he had
simply played 1. K to Kt3, K toE4. 2. K to B3, K to R5 Black
would draw, as his King is too far advanced, and does not give
White time to leave his BP.

5. K to Q2 ! 5. K to E5

6. K to K3 1 6. K to Kt6

7. K to Q3 And wins.

If Black plays K to R6, White captures the P. and Queens his
own. Equally so if 7. K to R4 ; 8. K to K4, K to R3 ; 9. K to Q5,
K to Kt3 ; 10. P to R3 and wins.

Attempts should be made to deviate from the above line of play,
and it will be found that White cannot win otherwise than by gain-
ing time by manoeuvring his King, as shown.

PROBLEM BY RICHARD A.
Black.

PROCTOR.

'^^ "'^9, X WM^! '9

WurrE.
White to play and mate in three moves.
The author of the above problem, in contributing it to this
department, says : — " I send a problem which I planned in the cars —
my only opportunity for chess in any way. It is, I believe, sound,
though for want of leisure I could not elaborate any difficulty worth
mentioning. So if you see fit to use it, you should present it, I
think, as an easy one.

" St. Joseph, Mo., November 7, 1886."

96

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[February 1, 1887.

<iBnv ^m0t Column.

By "Five of Clubs."

THE AiigtralaHan, whose Whist column is the best now pub-
_ lished, gives the following game as an illustration of the
indirect mischief often following from tlie play of King second
hand, from King and one other : —

C— K, 8, 4. -1
D.— Kn, 10, 9. J

„/H. (triimj)!!').—
IS.-Q, 6, 4, 2.

THE

10, 8,

HANDS.

f H. (tps).—Kn, 6, 4.

-, S.-K, 8.
C— Kn, 6, 3.
.D.— 8, 6, 5, 4, 2.

Y

B

Z

Tr. H. 5
A leads.

, (H (frumps).— J
^IS.— 10, 9, 5, 3.
A B play against Y and
A T B

Z.

z

1,3.

■Score

r. (C;«).-Q, 7, ,-,.-1
. — A, Kn, 7. I ,

H. itin\
S

-A, Q, 10, 7, 5.
D.-K, 3.

9 ^

*

^

4>

4- •!•
4. 4.

*

0 0
0%

O 0
0,0

o^o

O 0

0 0
0^0

*0*
0^0

*4.*
4. 4.

4. 4-

C— 9, 2. -1

D.-A, Q, 7. f
-^^two; r^ three.

NOTES ON THE PLAY.

Card underlined wins trick; card

underneath leading next.

1. A is right in leading trumps.
But

2. Z is right also 'in playing
them back on A-B. For he has
Major Tenace in one plain suit,
best and fourth best in another,
and a guarded King in the third.
Moreover, he is leading through
strength and up to declared weak-
ness. Yet this lead, through I"s
weak play, leads to ruin.

3. Y obeys the old rule, King
ever. Queen never; and has the
satisfaction of believing for a little
while that he has gained a trick.

4. But why does he lead trumps ?
He should have Itnomn that A led
trumps because he wanted to be
led up to in trumps, while Z led
them because he wanted to be led
up to in any plain suit. 3''s play
here destroys Y-Z, horse, foot, and
artillery. Y should have led Club
Knave. Would he have done so
if he had remembered that Z still
held the trump card ? I doubt it.

6. Z must now lead from his
Tenace. Had Y led Club Knave
all would still have been well.

8. .S'must cover.

9. By holding back the Diamond
Queen A somewhat increases (so
far as he knows) the chance of
making two tricks in Diamonds.
Probably, however, as turns out to
be the case, B holds Diamond
Ten.

A:id A B score two by cards.

The game should have

Y B

H4 H 10

A
1.— H3

2.— HK

— 1—
3.— S 3

4.— H A

5.— S 5

6.— C 2

7.— C9

8.— H 9

— 3—

9.— S9
10.— D 7
11.— D Q
12.— D A

H 6 H2
S 8 S Q
H Kn H S
S K S 2

— 3—

C Kn C K

C3
C6
D2
D4
D5
D6

C4

C 8

S4

S6

D9

D 10

DKn

13.— S 10 D 8
— 5—

And J' ^ score two by cards and the game.

been played as follows : —
Z

NOTES.

3. By holding back the King Y
increases his chance of leading up
to Z, as Z manifestly (to any
Whist-playing partner) desu'es.

6. Y's lead kills the enemy's
Club King, and

7, 8 enables Zia force out the
long trump.

12. Z'a Diamond King, though
it falls, has been a tower of
strength to him all the same. But
for it and its useful guard, a
Diamond lead by A at trick 9
would have given A-B three tricks
in Diamonds.

HQ

h7

S A

O

H 5

S7

C A
— 4—
CQ
— 5—
C 10

SKn
— 6—
C7

c'5
— 8—
DK

D3

It is noteworthy and fall of meaning that, while members
of all religious persuasions are very ready to accuse of
blasphemy any who question the scientific accuracy of state-
ments in the books they consider inspired, the converse
charge of blasphemy in regarding inaccurate statements as
inspired is very seldom heard. It seems to many reasonable
enough to say, " You are wicked to recognise error in what
God has written," but few think of saying, " You are wicked
to recognise God's writing in what is erroneous." Possibly
this is because the many who do not think are not only
blind to error, but cannot see the absurdity of imagining
men adopting a belief out of pure wickedness of heart ;
while the few who think for themselves not only recognise
error, but see also that belief even in error cannot conceivably
be a wilful sin. If a man should say to a student of zoology,
" You must be very wicked to say the hare does not chew
the cud, for God .says in Leviticus that the hare does chew the
cud," the student cannot retort, " You must be very wicked
to assert that God says the hare chews the cud, when the hare
himself declines to do anything of the sort ; " for the same
reasoning power which enables the student of knowledge to
ascertain that the hare is really unable to chew the cud
enables him also to see that the man who accuses him of
blasphemy for recognising a scientific fact is really unable to
recognise the absurdity of the idea.

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge*' as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To "West Indies and South America 9 0

To the East Indies, China, &c * 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &c 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Egypt, the Subgcription is 7s. 6d,. ae heretofore-

Contents of No, 15.

PAGE

The Beginning of Christianity. By

Richard A. Proctor 49

The Story of Creation : a Plain Ac-
count of Evolution. By Edward

Clodd 51

Indian .Myths. By '• Stella Occidens " 52

Coal. By \V. Mattien Williams .. 54

Evolution of Language 55

A Whist Superstition. By " Five of

CluDs" 57

One-Scale Atlas 58

The Naturalist"? Laboratory 59

Solution of Puzzles 60

PAGE

Puzzles 61

Tne Southern Skits for March .... 62
Origin of Comets and Meteors. By

Richard A. Proctor 64

A Yankee at King Arthur's Court.. 64

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor . . 66

Reviews 67

The Face of the Skv for January.

ByF.R.A.S 70

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs" 71

Our Chess Column. By *' Me-

phisto *' 72

.March 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

97

Illustrated MAGAZINE ^

liENCE,lITERATURE.& ARA

LONDON: MARCH 1, 1887.

THE STORY OF CREATION.

a plain account of evolution.

By Edward Clodd.

PAUT U.

Chapter IA'.— THE ORIGIN" OF SPECIES.

HE history of the slow but sure preparation
of the scientific world for the reception of a
theory displacing the old notions of the
1 ?^ "^^^ ^ fixity of species is briefly but vividly told
«4ffia v/Pls by Mr. (irant Allen in his monograph on
" Charles Darwin." * Commending the
study of that book, especially of the fifth
chapter, as superseding the need for repeating the story here,
we may pass at once to a rapid summary of the evidence as
to the modes of organic evolution.

I. No two individuals of the same species are exaeth/ alike ;
each tends to varij. — Of this obvious fact every species, from
man downwards, supplies abundant illustration ; for how-
ever closely individuals resemble one another in essential
features, causing them to be grouped under the same species,
there are always diflferences between them, often veiy marked,
both in organ and function. Children of the same parents
vary in size, feature, complexion, character, and constitution,
often very obvionsl}', sometimes too obscurely for detection ;
and this law of general resemblance, with more or less
variation in detail, ajiplies to all animals and plants. The
tendency to vary, which, in our ignorance of its ultimate
causes, we say " inheres " in the organism, and of which
what are called " sports " are an example, is fostered by the
change of condition in which the animal or plant may be
placed, as shown in its more marked tendency to vary in
a domesticated than in a wild state. Throughout these
papers stress has been laid on the fact that the organ adapts
itself to the work which it has to do ; hence changes of
structure in a species are necessitated to fit it for an altered
state of things. This implies increased or lessened activity
on the part of certain organs, the use or disuse leading to
their development or suppression.

II. Variations are transmitted , and therefore tend to be-
come permanent. — In other words, what is peculiar to the
parent plant or animal reappears in the offspring. This is
known as " descent with modification," the serious import
of which will be shown later on.

III. Man> takes advantage of these transmitted unliTce-
nesses to produce nei'j varieties of Plants and Animals. —
He selects certain individuals possessing variations which he
wants to preserve, and allows only them to breed together,
by which means in the course of time he produces varieties
differing greatly from the parent form with which he

* " English Wortliies " Series. Longmans.

started. The stock example of this is the pigeon. All our
domestic pigeons, exceeding in number a hundred well-
marked races, are descended from the ordinary blue rock-
pigeon of the European coasts. Variations as marked as
the fim-tail, the tumbler, and the pouter, have been ]iroduccd
by the breeder selecting birds with certain peculiarities,
and choosing from each successive brood only those which
exhibited the same peculiarities in more marked form, the
result being, after a long time, the production of entirely
new varieties. The same method has given us diflerent
races of dogs, sheep, horses, and other domestic animals.
The fleetest horses are chosen to breed together ; then the
fleetest offspring of these in succession, until horses are pro-
duced whose swiftness far exceeds that of the originally
selected pairs. In the development of the cart-horse
strength, not speed, is the quality selected : while in the
marked xmlikenesses between dogs we see the result of
artificial selection in producing such varieties as the blood-
hound, the terrier, and the spaniel. What varieties in
flowers, vegetables, and fruits — as, for example, the develop-
ment of the numerous kinds of apples from the small,
sour, crab species — the like method has induced, are too
well known to need detailed reference here. When we see
how successfully this choice of slight variations has brought
about plants and animals best adapted to the service of
man, we may desire the approach of that future when arti-
ficial selection will be extended to the human species, so
that only the men and women who are of the highest type,
both physically and morally, shall reproduce their kind.

Now the important work which Darwin did was to show
that what man does on a small scale within a limited range of
time. Nature does on a large scale during countless epochs ;
with the further difference that the action of Nature is not
purposive, as is the action of man, but involved in the
necessities of things. We may quote what Darwin himself
says on this matter :

As man can produce, and certainly has produced, a great result
by his methodical and unconscious means of selection, what may
not natural selection effect ? Man can act only on external and
visible characters : Nature, it I may be allowed to personify the
natural preservation or survival of the fittest, cares nothing for
appearances, except in so far as they are useful to any being. She
can act on every internal organ, on every shade of constitutional
difference, on the whole machinery of life. Man selects only for
his own good : Nature only for that of tlie being which she tends.
Every selected character is fully exercised by her, as is implied by
the fact of their selection. Man keeps the natives of many climates
in the same country ; he seldom exercises each selected character
in some peculiar and fitting manner; he feeds a long and a short-
beaked pigeon on the same food ; he does not exercise a long-backed
or long-legged quadruped in any peculiar manner ; he exposes
sheep with long and short wool to tlie same climate. He does not
allow the most vigorous males to struggle for the females. He does
not rigidly destroy all inferior animals, but protects during each
varying season, as far as lies in his power, all his productions. He
often begins his selection by some half monstrous form; or at least
by some modification prominent enough to catch the eye or to be
plainly useful to liim. Under Nature the slightest differences of
structure or constitution may well turn the nicely-balanced scale in
the struggle for life, and so be preserved. How fleeting are the
wishes and efforts of man ! how short his time ! and, consequently,
how poor will be his results, compared with those accumulated by
Nature during whole geological periods 1 Can we wonder, then,
that Nature's productions should be far " truer " in character than
man's productions ; that they should be infinitely better adapted to
the most complex conditions of life, and should plainly bear the
stamp of far higher workmanship ? *

IV. More organisms are horn than survive. — To quote
Darwin once more, " there is no exception to the rule that
every organic being natui'ally increases at so high a rate
that, if not destroyed, the earth would soon be covered by
the progeny of a single pair. Even slow-breeding man has

* " Origin of Species," sixth ed., p. 05.

98

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[March 1, 188/

doubled in twenty-five years, and at this rate in less than
a thousand years there would literally not be standing room
for his progeny."* If all the offspring of the elephant, the
slowest breeder known, survived, there would be in 750
years nearly nineteen million elephants alive, descended
from the first pair. If the eight or nine million eggs which
the roe of a cod is said to contain developed into adult cod-
fishes, the sea would ciuickly become a solid mass of them.
So prolific is its progeny after progeny, that the common
house-fly is computed to produce twenty-one millions in a
season ; T\-hile so enormous is the laying power of the aphis,
or plant-louse, that the tenth brood of one parent, without
adding the products of all the generations which precede
the tenth, would contain more ponderable matter than all
the population of China, estimating tliis at five hundred
millions !

It is the same with plants. If an annual plant produced
only two seeds yearly, and all the seedlings survived and
reproduced in like number, one million plants would be
])roduced in twenty years from tlie single ancestor. Should
tlie increase be at the rate of fifty seeds yearly, the result, if
unchecked, would l)e to cover the whole globe in nine years,
leaving no room for other plants. The lower organisms
multiply with astonishing rapidity, some minute fungi in-
creasing a billionfold in a few hours, and the protococcus,
or red snow, multiplying so fast as to tinge many acres of
snow with its crimson in a night. But we need not give
further examples of this fecundity whereby Natiu'e, " so
careless of the single life," secures the race against extinction.
V. The result is obvious : a ceaseless strugijle for food
and place. — In that struggle the race is to the swift and
the battle to the strong ; the weaker, be it in brain or body,
going to the wall, the vast majority never reaching maturity,
or if they do arrive at it, only to be starved or slain. As
amongst men, competition is sharper between those of the
same trade, so throughout the organic ^vorld the struggle is
less severe between difterent species than between members
of the same species, because these compete most fiercely for
their common needs — plants for the same soil, carnivora
for the same prey. But whether the battle is fought between
allied or unallied sjjecies, the victory is never doubtful — it is
assured to the plant or animal that has some advantage,
however slight, which its opponent lacks. Among plants
growing in a dry soil, those whose leaves have thicker haii'S
upon them will absorb more moisture from the air than
plants with less hairy leaves, and competing successfully
with these, will survive to transmit their advantageous
variations. Again, such as are better able to resist the
depredations of burglarious insects by protection of thorny or
prickly stems, or by nauseous taste, will thrive and multiply,
while plants lacking these defences dwindle and become
extinct. So with those which by showy colours of their
flowers and sweeter nectar attract insects whose visits are
desired as carriers of pollen from stamens to pistils. These
secure propagation, while plants less attractive remain
barren. The birds that are strongest on the wing reach the
land whither they migrate, while the weaker perish by the
■way. The lions of sharper sight and more supple spring,
the wolves of keener scent, secure their prey, while the
feebler members starve. It is with man as with the
organisms below him : the quickest in intellect, and those
with greater ])Ower of endurance, distance the weak or the
.stupid, who fall behind, and, finally, slip out of the ranks
altogether.

But the subtlety and variety of the conditions upon
which natural selection seizes escape the keenest observers.
Of their success, however, in tracing the varying fortunes of

♦ " Origin of Siiecies," sixth ed , p. 51.

species Darwin gives a striking illustration in his explana-
tion of the absence of wild oxen and horses in Paraguay.
This is due to the action of a small fly which lays its eggs
in the navel of newly-born calves and foals, the maggots
hatched from the eggs causing the death of the young
animals. Now, supposing this parasitic fly to be destroyed
bv an insect-eating bird, oxen and horses would abound in a
wild state, and as they would eat certain plants, the vegeta-
tion would be altered, and these changes in the flora and
fauna would involve changes of increasing complexity.

The inter-relation between the proportion of old maids
and an abundance of led clover is not, primd facie, quite as
obvious. But it may be proved in this wise. The clover
is fertilised by humble-bees, the number of which is deter-
mined by the number of field-mice which destroy their
nests. The number of field-mice, again, is determined
by the number of cats, and the number of these finally
by the number of old maids who keep them ! Therefore,
as I'ed cloi'er is excellent food for cattle, and cattle are
excellent food for man, elderly spinsters are benefactors
to their species !

The important part played by colour and mimicry in the
struggle for life has been demonstrated by Darwin, Wallace,
Bates, and other acute observers. The more closely that an
animal approximates in form and hue to its surroundings,
the easier does it escape detection by its puisuer, and the
easier does it avoid the notice of the prey which it pursues.
In conformity with this we find that most animals are
protectively coloured, while those which are not are so
constituted as to render such protection needless. As
illustrative of the operation of natural selection in this
matter, we may borrow an admirable example from Mr.
Grant Allen.*

la the desert, with its monotonous sandy colouring, a black insect
or a white in.sect, still more a red insect or a blue insect, would be
immediately detected and devoured by its natural enemies, ttie birds
and tbe lizards. But any greyish or yellowish insects would be less
likely to attract attention at tirst siuht, and would be overlooked as
long as there were any more conspicuous individuals of iheir own
kind about for the birds and lizards to feed on. Hence, in a
very short time the desert would be depopulated of all but the
greyest and yellowest insects ; and among these the birds would
pick out those which differed most markedl,v in hue and shade from
the sanil around tliem. But those which happened to vary most in
the direction of a sandy or spotty colour would be mo-t likely to
survive, and to become the parents of future generations. Q'hus,
in the course of long ages, all the insects which inhabit deserts liave
become sand-coloured, because the least sandy were perpetually
]iicked out for destruction by their ever-watchful foes, while the
most sandy escaped, and multiplied and replenished the earth with
their own likes.

Thus, then, is explained the tawny colour of the larger
animals that inhabit the desert ; the stripes upon the tiger
which, parallel with the vertical stems of liamboo, conceal
him as he stealthily nears his prey, the brilliant green of
tropical birds, the leaf-like form and colours of certain
butterflies, the dtied twig-like form of many caterpillars,
the bark-like appearance of tree-frogs, the harmony of the
ptarmigan's summer plumage with the lichen-coloured stones
on which it sits, the dusky colour of creatures that haunt
the night, the bluish transparency of animals which live on
the surface of the sea, the gravel-like colour of flat fish that
live at the bottom, and the gorgeous tints of those that swim
among the coral reefs.

Among tbe secondary causes of modiScation of species
Darwin gives prominence to " sexual selection," or the
struggle between males for the possession of females, the
result being that the stronger males secure mates and trans-
mit the qualities which have given them the mastery to their

* " Charles Darwin," p. 07.

Uxmn 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

99

offspring. Every farmyard combat between cocks illus-
trates the truth of Schiller's lines :

Jleanwhile, until philosophy
Sustains the structure of the worlil,
Her workings will be carried on
By hunger and by love.

And among the larger animals — as stags and deer, and
notably fur-seals * — the deadliest combats take place at
certain seasons for possession of the females. But there is
competition less fierce in character, if not less fatal, to the
weaker or unendowed, strength giving place to grace of
form, brightness of colour, and witchery of song, the females
making choice of the male that attracts them most, or, as
among the highest species, where he has wealth or good
social position. These condone infirmity- and ugliness.

Sexual selection thus explains the development of special
features which, transmitted in increasing degree through a
series of generations, have contributed to the survival of the
fittest. For whatever these features may be, whether
weapons of defence or attack, plumage and song of birds,
colours of butterflies, perfume as of the musk-deer, or acrid
taste as of the toad, their presence is explained by their
titility, since, as with the flowers and scents wherewith
plants attract insects to secure fertilisation, the primary
function of colour, form, ornament, and whatever else has
given advantage to plant or animal over its competitors is
its service to the organism, and not, as man in his conceit
has assumed, the delight or profit which it has given to
him.

COAL.

By W. ilATTiEu Williams.

SSUMIXG that the seam is reached by the
methods already described, that the roads
are made for carrying it to the shaft, we
now require to learn how the collier cuts
up the seam into the portable lumps with
■which we are all familiar. The usual mode
is by what he calls '• holeing,' which, if I
am not mistaken, is another mining technicality of Scxin-
dinavian origin, as it is not by any means making a hole, but
is undermining in order to overthrow, and Iiolj'a and hvolfa
are Icelandic. verbs signifving to turn over or overthrow.

The mooe of holeing is to undermine the seam by cutting
a groove along the lower part of the coal or the bed of rock
that underlies it. This is made as narrow as possible to
save labour and coal, and extends horizontalh' under the
seam to a distance of two or three feet, as far as the collier
can freely reach with his pick, which is made narrow and
sharp for the purpose. The position of the worker when
holeing is apparently very awkward and constrained. He
lies on hLs side or squats sideways, and swings the pick
horizontally, delivering several smart blows before he
scrapes out the fragments he has made. In thin seams
his position appears most painful, but he endures it
patiently, without grumbling more than other men grumble
at their daily labour.

In colliery districts where the prevailing seams are less
than five or six feet thick, this mode of working, and the
constant habit of accommodating the body to a low roof,
has developed an interesting muscular modification. If the
reader should be passing through such a district, he may
dLstinguish a collier in repose from any other member of the

* Cf. Elliott's "An Arctic Province," ch. x, for a vivid account
of the battles between the males for priority on the breeding-
grounds of the I'ribylov Islands.

population. His favourite position is to squat on his heels,
leaning his back against a wall, just as he rests underground
during the merry dinner hour. On a bright Sunday after-
noon he squats in this queer attitude against the wall by the
side of his cottage door, supremely happy in the enjoyment
of his short pipe and the rare luxury of bathing in the sun-
beams.

Thus undermined, the coal either breaks down by its own
weight, or is thrown down by driving wedges into it a few
feet apart by means of heavy hammers, or boring holes (this
is not called holeing) with a drill and blasting with gun-
powder.

Blasting with gunpowder is of course inadmissible where
there is any liability to accumulation of fire-damp, but as
the cutters are paid by piece-work, the temptation to adopt
it is very great, because much more can be thrown down
with a given amount of labour by blasting than by wedging.
Thus is sometimes presented the anomaly of miners carrying
safety lamps and blasting with gunpowder in the same
working. Mr. Galloway has shown by a long series of
careful investigations that the danger of blasting is by no
means limited to pits or workings containing explosive
gases. A working may be quite free from these and yet an
explosion, with fatal consequences, maj' follow an ordinary
blasting shot. This happens when there is much dry coal-
dust accumulated in the imm''diate neighbourhood of the
shot and extending far beyond. Each of the millions of
minute p:irticles takes fire by combining with the oxygen of
the air, and fires its neighbour, the combined result being
an evolution of a great volume of carbonic oxide and
carbonic acid gases, and gaseous water, as well as a destruc-
tive outburst of flame ; the expansion of the gases driving
the flame along the workings with a force and velocity
comparable, though inferior to, the generation and propul-
sion of ignited gunpowder gases through a gun.

]\Iany substitutes for gunpowder have been proposed.
One of the most promising is that of using the expansive
energy of the chemical union of water with quicklime.
When the hydrate (slaked lime) is thus formed a consider-
able increase of liulk occurs. By filling a bore-hole with
lime instead of gunpowder, then tamping or plugging and
adtnitting water by permeation, the expansion of the solid
lime exerts a disruptive force like that of the expansion
of the gases evolved by the combustion of the gunpowder.

Some seams are cut at the middle or top and wedged
accordingly. There may be various reasons for thLs. Thus,
in working the Flintshire cannel, which consists of two beds
— the smooth cannel and the curly cannel — it was customary
when I was there to hole into the top, and wedge up from
the bottom, because the upper smooth cannel has a much
smaller value than the curly below it, and is much softer
than the bituminous shale which is below the curly cannel.
That part which is cut away in the work of holeing is, of
course, reduced to slack, and is of little value — so li'tle that
I have seen it freely used for ballasting railway sidings,
being cheaper on the spot than gravel or stony soil.

A great deal of this slack is now utilised by making it
into " patent fuel," i.e. blocks formed by conglomerating the
fine fragments by means of pitch or tar or other binding
material, aided by pressure, or even by great pressure alone.
Square liricks or cubes as large as may be conveniently
handled are thus formed, the value of which is well appre-
ciated b}' those who ha^■e travelled far in steam-packets, and
know the grimy horrors of ordinary coaling, as compared
with the cleanly shipment of these blocks. Their compact
stowage is a further great advantage.

It is evident that if the whole of a seam of coal were thus
cut away and removed at random over a wide area, the rock
above would fall in and bury the miners. The simplest

100

♦ KNOWLEDGE <►

[March 1, 1887.

and most oljvious remedy for this is to cut away only a
portion of the coal, leaving other portions standing to sup-
port the roof. This is the old and primitive method of
working, which is still followed in many colliery districts.
It is variously designated " pillar-and-stall," " post-and-stall,"
" bord-aud-pillar," and in Scotland " stoop-and-room " work-
ing. There are various modifications of this mode of work-
ing, the technical details of vrhich it would be tedious here
to describe. The problem is by no means a simple one, the
necessities of ventilation being imperative, as well as the
economical and safe removal of the coal itself.

The simplest and commonest mode of ])illar-and-stall
working may be understood by comparing the proceedings
to the laying-out of the ground-plan of a new American
city, the coal which is first cut out corresponding, on a
somewhat narrower scale, to the parallel main avenues and
the side streets at right angles to them, the pillars of coal
that are left behind corresjionding to the houses between the
streets. A current of air, amounting in some cases to a
fresh breeze, is made, by means to be described hereafter, to
traverse all these streets, though their united length may
run into miles.

It is obvious that a large amount of coal remains as
sujiporting pillars after all this street cutting is done. The
pillars may amount to as much as three-fourths of the seam,
and rarely if ever to less than one-third, modern progi-ess
tending rather to increase their dimensions as the pits are
deeper. In some of the deep Newcastle pits they amount to
as much as four-fifths : 30 to 40 yards long and 20 to
30 yards wide. As much as 40 yards by 40 yards are
reached. These, of course, have to be finally removed more
or less completely, and this removal or " robbing " of the
pillars is a dangerous part of the miner's work. In pits
where open candles are used in the primary workmgs,
safety lamps are demanded for this. This demand, in such
cases, is, I suspect, rather due to the coal dust than to the
fire-damp, which is commonly credited with it.

The pillars are cut away one by one, and "jiids" or
wooden props are wedged into their places. TiiLs is continued
until all the pillars of one compartment of the mine called a
" panel " are removed. Then the juds are knocked away, the
roof falls in, and the iloor creeps up, forming a mass of
ruins called a " goaf."

A panel is simply a space of some acres surrounded by
thick walls of coal, to cut off free communication with the
other parts of the mine. This prevents the mischief that
has arisen from the accumulation of gas in the midst of the
debris of the goaf of old workings. These panel walls are
the last portions of the coal to be removed before the pit is
finally abandoned.

The mode of robbing the pillars is either by driving a
bord through them, and thus obtaining a good place for the
supporting juds in the middle part of the original pillar, or
by slicing them away from their faces. Much care and skill
is required in the economical and effective placing of the
supporting props, and of pack walls to protect the men from
the falling roof.

A vast quantity of coal, the wasted pillars of older work-
ings, remains hopelessly buried. In the older and cruder
modes of working the pillars were left as small as possible,
and finally they were crushed, the roof coming down and
burying them. The greatest waste of this kind has occurred
in the richest of all our coal seams, the 10-yard seam of
South Staffordshire. The gi-eat height between the floor
and the roof of this seam — 2.5 to 3G feet— renders the use of
juds or wooden pillars inapplicable for support, and also
demands some peculiar modes of working generally, which
are thus described by Mr. Warington W. Smyth : " Main
workings or sides of u-ork are opened in the form of a

square or parallelogram, 50 yards in the side or more, and
shut off by a rib of coal 7 or 8 yards thick, at the least,
from all other workings, except at the entrance a narrow
holl-hole. Driving out in the lower coals, and gradually
rising to the higher ones, the colliers open stalls of 5 to S or
10 yards wide, forward and across, so as to leave square
pillars, generally 9 or 10 yards in the side, and whenever
the unsoundness of the coal or roof appears to require it,
sparing additional supports of coal in men-of-ioar 3 or 4
yards square."

Those who are so easily satisfied, as many are, concerning
the prospective duration of our coal supply .should ponder
on the fact that this wonderful seam, on which was based
our supremacy in iron making and most of the other
industries dependent on coal, is now very nearly exhausted ;
only a small fraction remains, and that is but the portion
which is the most difficult to work, and which consequently
must become dearer and dearer as the difficulty increases.

It is quite true that we shall never exhaust our coal
supplies, for the simple reason that there will always
remain a great deal which cannot be worked ; but we actually
have exhausted, or have reached the verge of exhaustion
of those fields which, by their exceptional richness, gave
us our advantages over our neighbours, who have now
much more coal than we have, though none so cheaply
olitainable as that which we originally had, and which
twenty years hence we shall have no longer. We shall still
have plenty of coal then, but it will be quite as costly as the
coal of France, Germany, Belgium, &c., and much more
costly than that of America and China.

In my next I will describe lonj-wall working, which is
moi-e economical, and when properly conducted, safer than
the methods above described.

GREAT CIRCLE SAILING.

By Richard A. Proctor.

R. FROITDE in his " Oceana " touches from
time to time on great circle sailing, or, in
other words, on that method of dii-ecting
their course at sea, by which the wiser
seamen take the shortest course from port
to port. He is not always strictly accurate
in his remarks on this advantageous method
of sailing, but he is always interesting ;
nor do the slight errors in matters of detail detract from
the general accuracy of his statements. At the very outset
of his ocean travelling, one day only from Plymouth, we
find him observing that th.^ Australasia was, " owiside the
Bay of Biscaj', far to the westward of our course as traced
on a flat chart ; but the captain tells us," he proceeds, " that
%ve should see it to be right on a spherical one, and we
entirely believed him." In reality the great circle course
from Plymouth to Cape '\'erde passes but slightly to the
west of the cour.^e traced on a Mercator's chart, which we
assume to be what ]Mr. Froude means by a flat chart — at
any rate, it is the only kind of flat chart used by seamen.
Yet the piinciple is sound which underlies Mr. Fronde's
statement; and, slight though the advantage may be which
a great circle course has over a rhumb course (the ruled line
on a Mercator's chart), the difference of distance is worth
saving. In the case of a sailing vessel, indeed, which
against adverse winds may have to beat across the course
which a steamship or a ship under fair winds would pursue,
a very slight gain on the shortest course may result in a
very considerable gain on the whole journey. Consider, for

March 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

101

instance, the following stitcment in Professor Hughes's ex-
cellent little work on the construction of maps, a statement
for the accuracy of which I can answer, having indepen-
dently tested the matter : " In the case of a voyage from
the mouth of the English Channel to New York, supposing
a due west or adverse wind to last during the entire voyage,
and pi-esiiming a ship to advance at the rate of 150 miles a
day, the length of time occupied by her following through-
out the tack nearest to the rhumb course (or that which
would be pursued in the ordinary practice of navigation)
would be forty-nine days, while by pursuing the tack nearest
to the great circle course, the time would be diminished to
forty-three days eight hours — the distance passed over being
in the former case 7,3(Jl miles, and in the latter G,-t88
miles, a difference of 873 miles in favour of the great circle
course."

It may surprise the reader perhaps to learn that, in such
a journey as Professor Hughes has here considered, the
"practical" seaman of the old school, who refuses to be
troubled by " great circle nonsense," and sticks to his rule of
thumb rhumb rules, will on certain parts of his course be
actually increasing his distance from his port, by sailing as
close as he can to the rhumb track pencilled on his chart.
For example, suppose him ofl" the Lizard ; his rhumb course
for New York, a straight line on !Mercator's chart, woiild lie
west-south-west ; his shortest or great circle course would
lie about west by north. Suppose now that the wind is
about west-south-west, and that the ship cannot sail nearer
than six points to the wind, then the proper course to
pursue is to make long tacks to the north-west, only three
jioints from the true great circle course, and short tacks to
the .south, in which a certain amount of distance is lost.
But the practical old sea-dog who sticks to his rhumb line
will take equally long legs to the north-west and to the
south, supposing each to be about six points from his true
course, whereas on every southern tack he is nine points
from his true course to New York and only seven points
from his true course home. Such is the practical effect of
too strong a hatred of new-fangled ideas.

Jlr. Froude remarks of the seeming departure of the
Australasia from the straight-line track on the chart that,
had the passengers been required to give their independent
opinions, they would have voted " that we were going wrong,
and must change our direction, especially if they suspected
that the captain and otiicers were interested in the matter.
They were not asked for their opinions, and did not wish to
give them. They were contented, being ignorant, to be
guided by those whom they supposed to know," on which he
makes the i-ather odd comment, " This is the universal rule,
and when it is observed our sums woi'k out clear without
fractional remainders."

This trust in the supeiior knowledge of the officers who
direct a ship along the shortest route is especially taxed
when long journeys have to be taken in high latitudes. For
instance, imagine the state of mind of a passenger who,
having opened his Mercator's map, had traced out thereon
the track from Cape Agulhas to ilelbourne, and found, at
the end of the first day out, that the captain was taking the
ship to the south-east instead of nearly due east as the map
seemed to indicate. If perchance the passenger were a flat-
earth man, and had provided himself with one of those
ingenious maps in which Mr. Hampden (following the
deceased Newton of the flat-earth folk, " Parallax"), pre-
.sents the earth in cart-wheel form with the north pole as its
centre, and the south polar regions around its circumference,
the case woidd be even worse. For, drawing a straight line
from the Cape to Melbourne on such a chart, the unhappy
paradoxist passenger would recognise as the shortest track
to Melbourne a course running considerably north of east,

and the perversity of the captain in running considerably
south of east would seem still more disastrously mistaken.

It may be imagined how far the shortest or great circle
course may be from any such track as a chart would show
as such, that if one were starting from England to China
on a great circle course one wo'.ild go neither to the east nor
to the west, but nearly due north. So if one were starting
from Cape Town to New Zealand, one would go neither east
nor west, but nearly due south.

As a matter of fact, the actual great circle course in such
cases cannot be pursued. The assaults made in former times
on the problem of the north-western passage iirobably in-
volved some perception of the fact that an Arctic journey,
if practicable, was the best w-ay to reach India ; though a
north-eastern jiassage, such as Nordenskjiikl has accomplished,
would be better than a north-western one, if both were not
so difficult and dangerous as to be utterly useless, at least
as ways to the Pacific Ocean. But even such moderate
approach to the Antarctic regions as many journeys in the
Southern Ocean would involve, if made along the gi-eat circle
course, is in reality so undesirable that it may be regarded
as to all intents and purposes forbidden by nature. Con-
sider, for example, the following cases of icebergs seen in
latitudes not nearly so high as those into which the great
circle course from Cape Town to Adelaide or to Melbourne
would carry a ship. They are cited by Mr. Towson in a
paper on the Icebergs of the Southern Ocean, publi-shed
by the Board of Trade :

On September 10, 18G6, the LigldnUig, when in latitude
55° 33' south, longitude 140 west, came across an iceberg
420 feet high.

In February 1850 Captain Clark, of the same clipper,
records an iceberg 500 feet high and three miles long, seen in
latitude 55° 20' south, longitude 122° 45' west.

On December 1, 1851), Captain Smithers, of the Edmond,
reported an island 580 feet high and from two and a half to
three miles long, in latitude 50° 52' south, longitude
43° 58' west. This island has not been admitted into the
Admiralty charts, like some I know of, which for a time
did duty there, but were discountenanced later. And there
can be very little doubt that Captain Smithers's supposed
island was merely an iceberg of enormous size. Probably
the Antarctic tract recorded by Caiitain \Vilkes, of Trent
notoriety, and subsequently sailed over by an English ship,
was a still more enormous field of floating ice, many miles in
length, and averaging nearly a mile in total thickness.

In January 18G1, five icebergs, one 500 feet high, were
met with in latitude 55° 4G' south, longitude 155° 5G'
west.

In the same month, 26' farther south, and 4° 4' farther
west, an iceberg 500 feet high and half a mile long was
found.

In April 1864, the Royal Standard came into collision
with an iceberg GOO feet in height.

In December 185G, four large icebergs, one of them 700
feet high and another 500 feet, were met with in latitude
50° 14' south, longitude 42° 54' east.

On Christmas Day 1861, pretty near Midsummer Day,
too, in the southern hemisphere, the Queen of Nations fell
in with an iceberg in latitude 53° 45' south (corresponding
to the latitude of Hull or Leeds in our northern hemisphere),
720 feet high. This was in longitude 170° west.

On March 23, 1855, the Agneta passed an iceberg in
latitude 53° 14' south, longitude 14° 41' east, OGO feet in
height.

On August 16, 1840, the Dutch ship General Baron
von Green passed an iceberg 1,000 feet high, in latitude
37° 22' south (corresponding to the latitude of Seville in the
north), and longitude 14° 10' east.

102

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1887.

Lastly, on May 15, 1859, the RosetiHwth found in latitude
53° 40' south, longitude 123'^ 17' west, an iceberg as large
as Tristan d'Acunha.

When we remember that the icel)erg seen by the Ayncta
must have been upwards of a mile and three-quarters thick,
we see what amazing masses of ice come forth from the
Antai'ctic regions, and liow unsafe it would be for seamen
to pursue too scrupulously the great circle course on long
voyages in the Southern Seas, seeing that suoli voyages, if
piursued, would carry them into regions where ice masses
even more portentous than those described would be crowded
in even greater profusion.

Yet, are there no seas where, so far at any rate as east-
wai-dly voyages are concerned, the gi-eat circle cour.se seems
more inviting than in the southern portions of the great
Indian Ocean 1 For there within the " roaring forties," and
even far to the south of them, the mighty west winds blow
which i-aise the greatest waves which are known in our
world. " Between latitude 40" and the ice of the South Pole,"
says the latest account published of these western vvind.s,
" a steady draught of air from the west blows perennially all
through the year and all I'ound the globe. It may shift a
point or two to north of west, or south, but west it always
is ; never sinking below what we call a stiff breeze, and
rising often to a gale or half a gale ; and constantly, there-
fore, there is a heavy sea, nearly a thousand miles broad,
I'olling around the earth from west to east. The waves were
magnificent," proceeds Mr. Froude in "Oceana"; "I believe
the highest ever fallen in with are in these latitudes. Vessels
for Australia under sail alone accomplish often three hun-
dred miles a day on the course on which we were going. If
they are bound west they keep within the tropics, where
these winds do not reach. To steam in their teeth would
be impossible even for the most powerful ships afloat."

Indeed so moved was Mr. Froude by the impressive
jiicture presented by this zone of fierce west winds, urging
the waters of the sea ever eastwards over the broad span of
one thousand miles swept by their strong breath, that he
was led to propound what on a latei' page he calls his own
wave-theory depending on this phenomenon. I venture to
digress for a moment to touch on this theory of Mr. Fronde's,
which, as it pi'oved inviting to him, might ba attractive to
others, though based in reality on a singular misapprehen-
sion of mechanical laws.

The reader is doubtless aware that, owing to a certain
acceleration, or apparent acceleration, of the moon's motion,
beyond what the law of gravitation seems capable of
explaining, .astronomers have been led to entertain the
belief that our earth's rotation, the clock by which we
measure astronomical time, may be r\inning gradually
slower and slower century after century. The case may be
compared to tliat of an apparent acceleration in the speed of
a racer, equine or human, timed by a watch not thoroughly
trustworthy ; if such a watch were running slow, the timer
might very well believe that the racer had gained more in
speed than he really had — though perhaps a part of the
observed diftcrence might really be duo to an increased
velocity. To account for that portion of the moon's
increased speed which could not be accounted for by gravity,
a very slight diminution of the earth's rotation would be
required, corresponding to the loss of much less than a
second of time by our terrestrial clock in one yeai'. It has
been supiposed that the whole difl'ei'ence may be explained by
the action of the tidal wave in a direction contrary to that
of the earth's I'otation spin. The French mathematician,
Delauuaj', showed, in fact, by a calculation of great pro-
fundity, that the tidal wave raised by forces exerted on the
earth from without must produce some effect on the earth's
rotation. Airy, who at first doubted this, subsequently

admitted the validity of Delaunay's reasoning ; and the
influence of the tidal wave in I'etarding the earth's
rotation may be regarded as proved.* But it has
become very doubtful whether any letai'dation actually
takes place, and it is now generally supposed that the re-
tarding influence of the tidal wave may be counterbalanced
by some other causes, as yet not definitely determined, by
which the earth's rotation may be hastened. Thus the earth's
globe may be shrinking in sufficient degree to have its i-ota-
tion thereby hastened as much as it is being retarded through
the constantly westwardly motion of the tidal wave, (jr
there may be other accelerative causes. And just here Mr.
Froude steps in with his own wave-theory. It struck him,
he said, after describing the waves carried so steadily east-
ward by the mighty winds in the South Indian t)oean, that
'• a series of enormous waves for ever moving in one direc-
tion over so large a part of the earth's surface, might in some
degree counteract the force which is slowly stojiping the
rotation of our planet. . . . These great waves in the
Southern Ocean for ever moving in the opposite direction to
the tidal wave, may at least so far counteract it as to add a
few million years to the period during which the earth will
be habitable."

But, alas 1 the answer to this is akin to the answer which
George Stephenson made to the paradoxist who wished to
enforce his own theory of perpetual motion. " All right,"
said the great engineer, " but before you demonstrate your
theory, oblige me by doing what must be very easy to you
if you can secure perpetual motion ; take yourself up by the
waist-band and carry yourself round this room ; then I will
listen to you — with pleasure." The earth is the weight to
be rotated, the west winds are the foi'cc by which she is to be
moved, and the thousand-miles wide zone of the Southern
Ocean is as the waist-band by which she is to be carried
round. Unfortunately, though the sun's heat by which
winds are raised is an external force, all the mechanical
action of winds is earth-boi-n ; for every breath of wind
moving northwards there must somewhere be as much
moving with equal force southwards ; for every breath of
westerly wind an equal force of easterly wind must some-
where be exerted. No balance whatever, in one direction
or in another, can remain outstanding ; for the law of motion
discovered by Newton is not that action and reaction are
pretty nearly equal, but that they absolutely and exactly
counterbalance each other. The action of the winds is by
no means like that of the tidal wave, where the mechanical
forces at woi'k have been called into action by the sun and
moon, bodies acting on the earth from without.

These western winds in the southern seas, however,
though they do not effectively fan the rotating earth,
make the great circle track most advantageous for the
seaman travelling towards the east. From Cape Town
to Melbourne along a great circle course, the distance
amounts to 5,56(3^^ geographical miles, whereas the distance
on a rhumb line is no less than G,154 geographical miles,
or 587 knots farther. Nearly the whole journey would be
favoured by strong westerly winds. An ordinary sailing

* Mr. Ellerj', Government astronomer at Melbourne, expressed, I
SIC, tfic opinion — in conversation with Mr. Froude — th.it the re-
tarding influence of flie tidal wave is not proved. Uut liowever
skilful Jlr. Ellery may have shown himself as head of an obsor\'a-
tory, I have not heard of any studies he has pursued, or any
investigations he has published, wliich would make his opinion of
weight on a mathematical question of tliis kind, especially where
two of the greatest masters of the mathematics of astronomy have
been led, after a thorough examination of the evidence, to regard
as demonstrated that which Mr. EUcry rejects as still uniiroved. In
such cases, " unproved for me " would be the more accurate way of
expressing doubt.

March 1, 1887.]

KNOW^LEDGE

103

vessel would gain not a few days only, but weeks, by
following the great circle track, supposing no icebergs
intervened, and that no storms arose in high southern
latitudes which, even though blowing in the right direction,
would be too fierce for ordinary sailing, or might even
dismast and disable the stoutest sea ci-aft.

Even the most favourable great circle com-se, then, may
have to be modified in order to secure safety, which must be
the first consideration with all prudent ship-captains and
with all -(vise shipownei-s. For instance, the great circle
course from Cape Town to Melbourne would carry a
ship into about 58^ south latitude, as would also a great
circle couree round Tierra del Fuego to Cape Town. A
course from Dunedin to ^'alparaiso would pass into still
higher latitudes. These journeys would all be very
dangerous, a large portion of each being infested by
icebergs, and exposed also to storms so terrible that the
stoutest clipper could not hope to pass through them
with undipped wings. It would ill-profit a captain to
have shortened his journey a hundred miles or so, or
even to have secured favourable winds throughout the
whole of it, if half the journey had to be made under jury
rigging, and a large sum had to be expended to restore the
battered bulwarks, and replace the best sails torn from the
bolt rojies by the hun-icanes of the southern seas. The risk
of actual loss through collision with an iceberg, or by
foundering in some great storm, is great enough to be an
important consideration to the bravest masters, and if not
to all shipowners, to the wiser, and assuredly to all under-
writers.

It is necessar}', then, to follow a coui'se designed to
combine the greatest possible advantage in regard to distance
and favourable winds with the least risk from icebergs and
storm. This is done by following what is called the com-
posite coui-se. Supposing, for example, a captain or ship-
owner decides that on the journey from Cape Town to
Melboui-ne no latitude higher than 50^ south shall be
touched, then the plan to be pursued is to travel on a great
circle course from Cape Town to touch the limiting latitude
pai'allel, and thence to travel along that pai-allel until the
point is reached where a great circle coui-se from Melbourne
to that latitude parallel would touch it. This was the
course pui-sued by the captain of the Australasia. Mr. Fronde,
after mistaken!}' remarking that the true great circle course
fi'om Cape Town to Adelaide would lie athwart the South
Pole proceeds : '" This way there is no passage ; we were
to keep within the ' roaring forties ; ' " and even so, though it
was the southern midsummer, and the nights but two hours
long, they had to prepare for the temperature of an English
winter. '■ The thick clothes must come out of our boxes
again," he says : " the fire will be relighted in the saloon ;
we may fall in with icebergs, and see snow upon our decks,
and then in three weeks we shall be again in tropical sun-
shine amidst grapes and tiowere."

Here, however, I must correct a rather curious mistake
which appears in one or two treatises on navigation. It is
asserted that the shortest way of passing from any one place
to any other on the earth's surface, subject to the condition
that the track shall nowhere pass above a given latitude, is
not the composite course, but two grait circle courses
meeting on that point of the highest latitude parallel, which
has the same longitude as the point of highest latitude on
the actual gi-eat circle coui-se. For instance, the most
southerly point on the true great circle course from Cape
Town to Melbourne lies in longitude 84° east and latitude
58" south ; the composite course touches latitude SC south
about 12^' east, and leaves it about 98^ east ! Xow, the
ide:x which I describe as a •' curious mistake " consists in
supposing that a better course than the composite one would

be to rim gre.at cu-cle-wise from Cape Town to latitude .50"
longitude 84° east, and thence also on a great circle to
Melbourne. This journey, compounded of two great circle
courses, would unquestiomibly be shorter than the com-
posite course compounded of two great circle courses and
one couree along a parallel. But it would cany the ship
ttvice outside the limiting latitude — viz., for a considei-able
distance on the west of the point where the two great circle
coui'ses meet, and for a still gi-eater distance on the east of
that point.

Recognising the advantages of great circle sailing — (1) in
its simplest form where practicable ; (2) in the composite
coni-s2 where a simple great cii-cle course passes through
inconveniently high latitudes ; and (3) as judiciously com-
bined with due consideration of winds and currents, the
question naturally arises, Why do not all sea-captains seek
to obtain to the fullest possible extent the advantages which
this method of sailing offers ? Shipowners ought to be even
readier to adopt the principle of great circle sailing, since its
employment would diminish not only the length of ocean
journeys, but also sea risks and expenses.

It need hardlj' be said that captains who are navigators
as well not only recognise the advantages of great circle
sailing, but avail themselves also of those advantages. But
it must be remembered that a large proportion of the
mastei-s of ships engaged in trade are unable to employ
any but the simplest methods of navigation. Accustomed
to rhumb sailing, they are not very willing to employ
methods which require either compliaited constructions
or more or less recondite calculations. I use the word
'•■ recondite " rather than " difficult," because the former
word corresponds with the real objection which many
skippers entertain against processes of calculation. If a
shipmaster knows that taking out certain numbers from
tables, and dealing with them according to certain formulse,
he ^\'ill get out his proper course at starting from any point
to reach a given port, he yet has the feeling that in adopting
the course so calculated he is, as it were, walking in the
dark. A wrong figure or a wrong sign, or some misunder-
stood tbrection, might have made the calculation work out
wrong, and the coui-se on which, confiding in it, he sets out
nun/ therefore be very for from the best.

Thus, although Mr. Towson has pro^-ided a series of ad-
mirable tables for facilitating the practice of gi-eat circle
sailing and composite sailing, it is found that a large pro-
portion of the captains of ocean-going vessels care little
to avail themselves of these tables. Steamei-s may follow a
particular calculated track — though there are few steamers
as compared with sailing ships or auxiliary steamships on
the longer voyages to which the principles of great circle
sailing chiefly apply. But sailing vessels are often driven
far from the course which might be calculated, at starting,
as the best ; and once this has happened the calculations so
made are practically useless.

On the other hand, Mercator's charts are so simple and a
rhumb line is so easily drawn, being simply a straight line,
that seamen are not gi-eatly attracted to the use of methods
requiring complicated constructions to obtain the required
course, or showing that course in a way not easily inter-
preted. For we must remember what the sailor wants,
and what, so far as the rhumb course is concerned, Mer-
cator's charts actually supply. He wants not only to know
through what latitudes and longitudes his voyage will airry
him, but to know at each point of his journey the bearing of
his course. Suppose, for instance, he has been driven otf the
track he had intended to follow, and finds himself in a certain
position, he marks that position on his chart, and joins the
point by a straight line with the place of his port as mai-ked
on the chart. This line shows him at once what course to

104

KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1887

pursue, for it crosses the meridians (or north and south
lines) on his chart at precisely the angle at which the
course he is to steer should be inclined to the north and
south line through the ship. He can measure the angle on
his map at once, without any construction for correcting
it in any way ; and then he can direct his course on the
sea accordingly by the compass in the customary way,
making only the usual correction for the deviation of the
needle.

But now, suppose our skip23er wishes to use some chart
for great circle sailing. If he takes liis usual sailing charts,
he can only obtain the great circle coarse by a complicated
construction, the actual curve which in a Mercator's chart
re|)resents a great circle course on the earth belonging to a
class of curves whose properties can only be treated by the
higher mathematics. Sir George Airy calculated a table,
long ago, which was intended to facilitate the construction
of approximate great circle courses on Mercator's charts ;
but to the use of this table the same objections apply as
to the use of Towson's tables for calculating the whole
course.

Is there, however, no form of chart by which the great
circle course may be drawn, as in Mercator's charts the
seaman draws the rhumb course, as a straight line ? There
is the Onomonic Projection, by which this maybe done;
and if the seaman could turn to a gnomonic map containing
his port of departure — or his position at any given moment
— and his haven, all he would have to do in order to deter-
mine his proper track would be to draw a straight line from
one ])oint to the other.

But there are two very serious objections to the use of
gnomonic charts. In the first place no gnomonic chart can
conveniently show more than a small portion of the surface
of the globe — for the scale increases enormously as the dis-
tance from the centre of the map increases. How enormous
the scale becomes, far beyond the limits to which many
projections can be carried, will be inferred from this, that
to show a hemisphere on this projection a sheet of infinite
size would be required. (Charts of infinite size are not
approved of on board ship ; they would be inconvenient
even on the Great Eastern.) But apart from this objec-
tion, which is in reality fatal against the projection, there is
another, which would sufiice to make the course drawn on
s, gnomonic chart unmeaning and therefore useless to the
seaman. All the angles at which the course is marked so
simply on a gnomonic map are diflerent from the real
corresponding angles on the globe itself. For the shapes
of ail the spaces on a gnomonic chart are distorted, in
varying degree, according to their distance from the centre
of the chart. Since the essential object of a seaman's chart
is to show him his bearings, this objection is altogether
decisive, and accordingly gnomonic maps have not come into
use for nautical purposes.

There is, however, another projection which, so far as I
have learned, has never yet been used by seamen, which
possesses advantages as great in relation to modern nautical
requirements as Mercator's projection presented for the
comparatively rough requirements of Mercator's time — or
even for much later times when, according to Commander
IMaury, a seaman shaped his course from England to Boston
so roughly as to be well content if he fetched up at New
York instead. According to the plan which I thus pro-
pose for a nautical chart, which may either bo used alone or
in conjunction with a Mercator's chart, a chart can con-
veniently show the whole globe except either the Arctic or
the Antarctic regions, according as the south pole or the
north pole is made the centre of the map. The great circle
course from any one point to any other point appears as the
arc of a circle, the only feature in which the projection is

less simple with reference to great circle sailing than
Mercator's is for ihumb courses. (Though indeed a geo-
metrician might be disposed to say that in this lespect the
proposed charts have the advantage, since in a geometrical
sense it is much easier to describe a circle correctly than a
straight line.) However, this is saying little until it is
shown further how this circular arc is to be drawn. For
instance, quite a complicated construction might be necessary
to determine the centre and the size of the circle required.
Here, then, is the construction, so simple that a schoolboy
often could deal with it correctly. Describe a circle through
the ship's place, the desired haven, and the antipodes of
either jioint on the chart ; this may be done without the
trouble of any construction, simply by feeling about with a
pair of compasses till the light centre and opening are foun<l.
But if construction bo preferred, then the simple method
given in Euclid, Book IV., for circumscribing a given
triangle may be employed. This, however, is really useless,
seeing that in twenty seconds the trial method will give all
that is wanted, whereas construction may require perhaps a
couple of minutes for an unpractised hand, or a minute or
half a minute for one which is skilful in such work.

But the chief advantage of this new nautical chart has
still to be mentioned. In regard to bearings, it has pre-
cisely the same qualities as Mercator's chart. All bearings
are correctly presented ; or, in other words, the circular arc,
pencilled from point to point, cuts all the meridians at
exactly the right angle, that at which the seaman's course
must intersect the north and south lines on the globe when
he is pursuing the shortest or great circle course.

It may be asked, however, how the new chait will lend
itself to composite sailing, which, as we have seen, is often
a necessity. It does so perfectly. The problem is to describe
a circular arc which shall pass through the seaman's place,
port, or haven, and .shall touch a given parallel of latitude.
All parallels of latitude are concentric circles on the chart.
Suppose the parallel to be touched is that of 50° south lati-
tude ; then all that is necessary is to describe a cii'cle on the
chart, which shall pass through the seaman's place or haven,
and touch on the inside the circle representing 50° south lati-
tude, while it touches on the outside the circle representing 50°
north latitude. Nothing can be easier, because the last two
conditions manifestly determine the size of the required
circle. For any one who will draw two concentric circles on
a plane will find that to touch the outer one on the inside,
and the inner one on the outside, a circle must have a radius
midway in length between the radii of the two circles. The
centre of the required circular arc lies on a given latitude
parallel in the chart ; and it need hardly be said that to
describe an arc of given radius through a given point, and
having its centre on a given arc, is child's play.

The drawing of the great circle coui'se, or the composite
course, as may be required, is the work of .a minute or two
at the outside. The interpretation of every point of the
course thus determined is precisely the same as in a Merca-
tor's chart. If the seaman has been beaten oflf his track, he
can describe the shortest course from his new position as
readily as he could describe the rhumb coui'se on a ^lerca-
tor's chart and interpret it as simply.

I venture then to express with confidence my belief that
the new gi-eat circle .sailing charts may serve the same j)ur-
pose for seamen that ISIercator's chai-t served in former
times — saving much time, considerable expense, and many
lives. For further information I may say with Mrs.
Clrudden, " see small handbills " — that is to say, consider
the pamphlet accompanying the charts as issued by ]\lr.
Stanford.

March 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

105

THE SOUTHERN SKIES FOR APRIL.

THE map showing the southern skies this month is to
be interpreted as the maps which appeared m the
December and January numbers were interpreted. As I have

not yet received any proofs of the set of maps, completed to
the end of the year, and write away from home, I am unable
to consider the details separately. But as, in point of fact
the maps speak for themselves, this is a matter of small
importance.

TJA.P v.— Fob Febbuarv, Makch, and Apeil.

THE Night Skies in the Southebx Hemisphere (Lat. 4G° to 21° S.)

ASD THE
SOUTHERN HALF OF OUB NOBTHERN SKIES (UPPEB HALF OF THE MAP) AT THE FOLLOWING TIMES:

At 1 oclock, morning, March 8.

12.30 „ „ March 16.

", Midnight, March 23.
„ 11.30 o'clock, night, March 30.

At 11 o'clock, April 7.
„ 10.30 ,. April 15.
„ 10 „ April 22.
„ 9.30 „ April 29.

At 9 o'clock. May 7.

„ 8.30 „ May 15.

„ 8 „ May 22.

„ 7.30 „ May 29.

106

♦ KNO\ArLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1887.

Map II.

Th^ linear acaU-foduiily is imi/bn
^vmufhouti tfie Ommft scale ij
greats tfy }'i^ halfwc^ to Oie ed^e ,
and- by h'^at tfw- ed^e .

Scale of Miles at cenire vfjiiap,
and. radxali^ ail- over map.
English Miles

O so lOO MO 4O0 600 800 1000

Scale ofMUea at. border of map
yi*. iheffreater.

SmaR areas areffreajter by )^ half
way to Bur edge, aiui. hy ^4,*i^ at
"the edge .

Edw^WeJJcr.dsl

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

TITE give another map of this series, reserving an account of the method in
T I- _ which the sphere has been diviiled, and aich map projected, till our
space IS less crowded. r r j >

Mahch 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

107

PLEASANT HOURS WITH THE MICROSCOPE.

By Henry J. Slack, F.G.S., F.E.M.S.

EW spectacles are more beautiful and few
more wonderful than to see the formation
of crystals either on the stage of the
microscope or with suitable materials on
a magic-lantern slide. In a former article
the exhibition of a silver tree in its rapid
process of development was especiall}- re-
commended. In this case a drop of solu-
tion of silver nitrate is placed on a slide, with the stage
of the instrument horizontal. This plan — except when
Stephenson's binocular is employed — is a little awkward
with a tall microscope, as the tube is u|)right, but no other
aiTangement answei'S so well. A very small bit of copper,
cut from the top of a wire, is put into the solution drop,
after the latter has been focussed with an inch power. The
chemical action is very rapid if the particle of copper is
quite clear. Instantly a tree-like form springs forth, and
the branchlets extend in all directions as if a living force
impelled their gi-owth. Each twig of the silver tree is seen
to be made up of small crystalline particles, but the still
minuter particles composing them are not discerned. The
little silver crystals that unite to imitate the pattern of a
plant are too thick to be translucent, as silver leaf is, and
should be viewed under strong reflected light.

If we take another substance — say, tartaric acid, which
crystallises very quickly from its concentrated solution — we
see much the same process as with the silver solution, but
the pattern is quite changed. Silver crystallises in octo-
hedrons, and the native crystals often aggregate into thread-
like and arborescent patterns, as in the microscope experi-
ment. Tartaric acid crystallises in complicated patterns,
which appear to be modification.? of a rhombic prism.
The tendency to complication makes it especially beautiful
for microscopic exhibition, and its development should
be watched under polarised light, which gives splendid
colours. Even if the process is watched under a
high power, the eye gains no vision of minute particles
coalescing to make up any portion of the pattern. Each
pattern visibly grows, and very fast, if the experiment is
performed in a warm room and evaporation is rapid, but
exactly how it grows is not made clear.

If, therefore, we want to see a little more of the way in
which non-crystalline particles adhere to form crystals, we
must select some substance that can be made to work in a
manner and at a pace adapted to satisfy our curiosity.
This was accomplished a few years ago by a German phi-
losopher named Vogelsang. He thinned a little Canada
balsam with bisulphide of carbon, which readily dissolves it,
and in another small vessel dissolved a little bit of sulphur
in the same fluid. Two half-dram tube bottles answer very
well for the experiment. Two or three drops of the balsam
in the state in which it is usually supplied, and about as
much carbon bisulphide, will probably answer, but the
amount of thinning the balsam requires must be learnt by
a little practice ; and it should be remembered that in
thinning Canada balsam with any of its best solvents, the
transition from being too thick to becoming too thin is very
sudden after a certain point of dilution has been reached.
A bit of brimstone the size of a peppercorn crushed into
powder dissolves quickly in three or four times its bulk of
the bisulphide.

Having prepared the two solutions, take a small glass rod,
or, what will answer, two lucifer-match sticks. Use one for
the balsam and one for the sulphur solution, or if the glass
rod is employed clean it each time with a little benzine and
a rag, so as not to get any sulphur into the balsam bottle.

Put a small drop of the balsam on to a glass slide with the
microscope stage horizontal, that it may rest quite still.
Then, having focussed it with an inch or half-inch power,
add to the balsam drop one of the sulphur .solution. Bi-
sulphide of carbon evaporates very quickly, and the crystal-
lisation process begins at once. Now, if the balsam is of
the right stickiness, it retards this process suiEciently to
enable its stages to be seen. First comes the formation of a
swarm of what Vogelsang calls glohuUtes : tiny spherules,
such as are formed by precipitation of a colloid substance,
like mastic, when its alcoholic solution is thrown into
water. These globulites are not like solid particles of the
sulphur- ; they are plastic bodies, and build up crystalline
forms of exqui-site beauty, which should be viewed in various
ways — with transmitted, and reflected, and with polarised
light. The sulphur precipitated in this way acts upon
polarised light in proportion to its advance in crystalline
development. The globulites that have not begun to make
crystals do not show any colours, while the most complete
crystals are in a brilliant blaze of prismatic hues.

These experiments of Vogelsang are scarcely known in
this country except to the few students of micropetrology,
although making sulphur crystals for the polariscope has
not been uncommon. It is probable, as Vogelsang con-
sidered, that when the chemical molecules of any substance
are precipitated from solution and form cry.stals, the first
stage of the process is their aggregation into globulites,
which in many cases require high powers of the microscope
to discern, and in others escape vision, either from the
rapidity of the process or from their optical properties.

In forming Mas-Schulze's artificial diatoms by a method
explained in a former paper, we obtain globulites of silica
which have enough plasticity to unite in vesicles like very
thin glass bulbs. The process consists in putting a spoonful
of powdered fluor spar, and one of fine silicious sand or
powdered glass, into a common G or 8-oz. wide-mouthed
bottle, pouring sulphuric acid over it, and lightly stopping
the mouth with a loose flock of cotton wool saturated with
water. It is well to let the apparatus rest for four-and-
twenty hours, and then delicately remove the vesicles from
the cotton threads, and wash all the acid out of them.
They are then fit for the microscope.

The writer many years ago obtained exceedingly fine
silica films by passing silicic fluoride gas through glycerine
four parts to water one part. Here the adhesion of the
globulites is feeble, and the slightest touch broke the films.
Lately another experiment was tried, with interesting
results.

If the silicic fluoride gas is given off pretty quickly,
which it will be if the bottle containing the preparation is
kept warm in a water bath, the cotton is soon saturated
with the fluosilicic acid and its fibre encased in silica. The
cotton should be allowed to dry, and then small tufts lightly
taken up with forceps and calcined in the flame of a spirit
lamp in a platina capsule or spoon, or in a little Berlin
crucible that will stand the heat. The capsule is the best,
as the porcelain crucible will most likely be broken in inex-
perienced hands. For the water-bath mentioned above,
take a round enamelled iron soap-dLsh, worth about .sixpence.
If the cotton is well calcined, and moved carefully, the
result is to obtain a sort of artificial fossil cast of the fibres,
in the form of a number of hollow sOica tubes, each built of
innumerable globulites. They .should be viewed with both
transmitted and reflected light, and present very beautiful
as well as curious appearances.

Instead of cotton fibre, pieces of wet sponge may be
employed and calcined as before. A platina capsule about
the diameter of a threepenny piece is big enough for these
experiments, and can be obtained of the chemical apparatus

108

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE

[March 1, 1887.

sellers for a small price. To hold it, make a wire clip
about six inches long, and stick one end iu the cork.

The figures below arc copied from Vogelsang and repre-
sent the sulphur globules and crystals.

SOLUTIONS OF PUZZLES.

■ UZZLE XIX. To find the square sections of a
tetrahedron ; and to fill a square hole with a
tetrahedral plug.

First, let ABCD, fig. 1 , be a tetrahedron ; E, F,
II, K, L, M, the bisections of its six equal edges.
Then lfkh is a square ; for lf and hk, being
each parallel to BC, are parallel to each other,
as are hl and kf. Also hl, lf, fk, and kh are all equal,
each being half an edge of the tetrahedron. Therefore hf is
a rhombus. But by symmetry the angle KFL=the angle
FLii ; and hl being parallel- to kf, these angles are together

Fig. 1.

equal to two right angles ; each therefore is a right angle.
Therefore hlkf is a square. So also mj'EH and elmk are
squares.

Note. — If the student does not feel the force of the argu-
ment fi'om .symmetry, he may for his own satisfaction prove
LFKH a square, as follows : join ae, de, cutting lf, hk in I
and k respectively. Then be being perpendicular both to
ae and DE, is perpendicular to aed ; so therefore are hk and
LF perpendicular to aef, for they are both parallel to BC.
Also lZ=h^-, being the halves of equals. Hence lh is
parallel to Ik, and the angles Ihii and kuh are right
angles.

Secondli/, to fill the square hole abdc, fig. 2, with a tetra-
liedral phig. The figure shows the tetrahedron of fig. 1
fitted into the liole abdc ; abc, bcd of fig. 2 being the faces

so lettered in fig. 1 , and abd, dac of fig. 2 being the other
faces so lettered in fig. 1, supposed to be seen througli the
tetrahedron. The bi-sections of ab, bd, dc, ca are similarly
lettered in both figures, while m and e of tig. 1 are brought
into coincidence at o in fig. 2.

Puzzle XX. To find the regular hexagonal S'-ctions of a
cube ; and to fill a hexagonal hole vjith a cubical plug.

First, let ag, fig. 3, be a cube ; k, l, m, n the bi-aections of
the edges ab, bc, ae, and eh. It is clear that if kl be pro-
duced each way, it will meet da and dc produced in points
p, Q, such that Ar=AK=LC=CQ. So mx produced will pass
through p, and meet dh produced in R, such that hr^iin'=:
.MA=:AP. And obviously rq will bisect hg, gc in s and t.
Hence the plane of the equilateral triangle pqr gives the
section required. For, joining mk, ns, lt, and noting that
the points k, l, t, s, n, and .m are the trisections of lh;; sides

/

F

z

f

/©.''

D '

/

/

;>Q

Fig.

of an equilateral triangle, we see that lkmnst is a regular
hexagon, from the well-known obvious properties of equi-
lateral triangles.

And obviously there are four such hexagonal sections,
which may be obtained by completing the square inscribed
in ABCD, of which kl is a side and the construction as
above.

Secondly, to fill the hexagonal hole abcghd with a cubical
plug. The figure shows the cube of fig. 3 fitted into the
hole abcghd ; fa, fc, fh on the near side being the edges so
lettered in fig. 3, and fb, fg, fd, supposed to be seen through
the cube, are also the same as the edges similarly lettered in
fig. 3.

Puzzle XXI. To find the regular hexagonal sections of
an octahedron, and to fill a hexoAjonal hole with an octa-
hedral plug.

First, let abcdef, fig. 5, be an octahedron ; g, h, the
bisection of the opposite edges av, bc ; kl, nm respectively

E

Fig.

parallel to ab and dc, and bisecting the sides ae, eb, fd, fc.
Then kl, cm, and n.m are parallel and in the same plane

March 1, 1887.]

KNOW^LEDGE ♦

109

(since a plane through gh, if it pass through kl, must by
symmetry pass through sji also). Join kg, lh, ng, and mh.
Then the six sides of the figure, klhmng, are all equal, being
each equal to half an edge of the octahedron. Moreover,
GH, K.Ai, and LN bisect each other in o, by symmetry ; and
OG, OK, OL, OH, 051, and ox are all equal, being each equal to
half an edge of the octahedron. Hence G, k, l, h, m, n are
on the circumfei'ence of a circle about o as centre, and
therefore the equal-sided figure gklhiin is a regular
hexagon.

And obviously there are four such hexagonal sections,
each section passing through the centre O of the octahedron,
and being parallel to two opposite faces.

Secondly, to fill the hexagonal hole aebcfd with an octa-
hedral plug. The figure shows the octahedron of fig. 5,
fitted into the hole aebctd ; the letters corresponding in the
two figures as in each of the two former cases.

OUR PUZZLES.

I HE puzzles which suggest themselves for this
month are the following :

Noting that space can be occupied by a
series of equal cubes, which if originally
airanged in layers, and each layer in rows,
can be shifted in layers and rows :

Puzzle XXII. Show how to Jill space
■with ffjuitl tttrnh'drons and square-based pyramids, having
their triantjniar j'aces equal to those o/ the tetrahedrons ; and
determine the movements which can take place among the
solids so filling space, without leaving any sjxices vacant.

Puzzle XXIII. Shoiv how to Jill space with equal tetra-
hedrons and with equal octahedrons, having their triangular
faces equal to those of the tetrahedrons ; and determine move-
ments as in Puzzle XXII.

Puzzle XXIV. Find a solid, having all its J'aces equal
{not, hoivever, one of the regular solids, tvhose J'aces are
all regular Jigures), such that space may be filed by equal
solids of the kind, no displacements being possible without
leaving vacant spaces.

Those readers who do not care to attack these puzzles in
the general form here presented, may take instead the fol-
lowing easier problems :

Puzzle XXII. Arrange four equal regular tetrahedrons,
anil six equal square-based pyramids having equilateral
triangular faces equal to those of the tetrahedrons, in the
form of a square-based pyramid.

Puzzle XXIII. Arrange eight equal regular tetrahedrons,
and six eqital regular octahedrons %vith J'aces equal to those
of the tetrahedrons, in thej'orm of a regular octahedron.

Puzzle XXIV. Draw on a card twelve e<iual and similar
diamonds (rhombuses), determining their common shape and
their positions on the card so that they may be cut out in
one piece, and by suitable bending of diamond towards
diamond, each diamond remaining fat, may form the 12
faces of a symmetrical solid, having 2-t edges and 1-t angles,
6 of the solid angles being each formed by the meeting oj'
4 of the smaller plane angles of the diamond faces, ami 8
by the meeting of Z of their larger plane angles.

MINUTE MEASUREMENT.

[G ontinued from page 80.)

E have said previously that when extreme
delicacy of measurement in an astronomical
instrument is essential the micrometer
microscope takes the place of the vernier.
Now the very essence of the accui-acy of this
instrument resides in the absolute truth of
the screw which moves its index and cross
wires, and, inasmiich as the screw also forms
the essential part of eveiy instrument now in use for the
measurement of exceedingly minute quantities, it may be as
well in beginning this branch of our subject to say a few
words as to its principle, and the methods in which a
perfectly true screw is produced. If we turn to any popular
work in which the so-called "mechanical powers" are
described, we shall find the screw defined as a continuous
cii'cular wedge or inclined plane, whose outline may
be formed by cutting out a wedge-shaped piece of paper
and wrapping it round a cylinder. Then will the edge
of the paper represent the outline of the screw thread,
which ob\-iously preserves a constant angle to the axis of
the cylinder ; the angle of the wedge, with a cylinder of
unvarying diameter, evidently determining the coarseness
or fineness of the screw. We may take it, for our present
pui'pose, that a screw must have been originated by very
carefully wrapping such a wedge-shaped piece of paper as
we have described round a cylinder, and then, with equal
care, filing a groove upon it, upon the line traced out by the
edge of the paper. The screw being thus made as accurate
as possible, would be converted into a " tap " — or cutter —
by filing gi'ooves round it parallel to its axis, and with this
tap an inside or " female " screw would be cut, which inside
screw, or "die" as it is technically called, would in turn
become a cutter whence copies of the original screw might
be produced in any number. As we are not writing an
article on practical mechanics, we need not point out how,
by a repetition of these processes, a correction being intro-
duced at each stage, the resulting screws come nearer
and nearer to perfection, nor describe the elaborate
art by which perfectly true screws are now cut with
100 threads to the inch. We wUl take their exist-
ence for granted, and proceed to describe how they are
rendered available for the most minute and delicate
measurements. Perhaps as suitable and typiail an applica-
tion of the screw as we can select for this purpose may be
found in the micrometer microscope, by the aid of which
angular deviations are reiid ofli" on the limbs of astronomical
circles to the tenth and even hundredth of a second of arc.
Let us take one of those used to read the division on the
limb of a mural circle, or large Altazimuth instrument,
the primary divisions on the circle representing intervals
of 5'. Now the microscope itself is a compound one, with
an object gla.ss, and that form of eye-piece known as the
Eamsden or " positive " one, consisting of two plano-convex
lenses with their convexities turned towards each other.
Then, as in every other microscope, an image formed by the
object glass in its focus will be magnified by the eye-piece,
when the focus of the latter is made to coincide with that of
the objective by sliding the eye-tube in and out. It will
fm-ther be evident that any material object placed accurately
at this focal point will be .seen superposed on the optical
image formed by the object-glass. Now, in the instru-
ment which we are considering, at such focus is placed
the spider-line micrometer which is shown in fig .5.
Here we see a rectangular frame, moved by the screw sc,
whose milled head, m h, is divided into GO equal parts. The
circle represents the field of view of the microscope, and the

110

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1887.

short dark vertical lines del are the 5' divisions on the limb
of the instrument itself. The comb c does not move with
the spider-lines to be immediately referred to. The object-
glass of the microscope is screwed up or down until five
revolutions of the milled head carry the crossed spider-lines
s L exactly from one division to the next. It must be, of
course, thoroughly understood that tlie microscope itself is
a fixture, and that the telescope and circle moving together
carry the divisions on the latter across the field of the
microscope ; and if we suppose the middle notch of the
comb c and the intersection of the spider-threads to be in
a line, and the zero of the circle on the milled head to be
opposite to its index (not shown in the figure), then will
this intersection of the crossed spider-lines become a fixed
point of reference, and the divisions which pass it as
the telescope and circle rotate together will show the
angle through which the telescope has moved. Let us
now suppose, though, that instead of such rotation bringing

Fig. o.

the cross accurately on to a division, it falls between two
of them. In this case we turn the milled head until the
intersection of the lines coincides with the graduation
hcyond wliich the motion of the telescope and circle has
carried it, and read oflf the revolutions and parts of a
revolution made by the milled head. Let us take an
example. AVe have said that each gi-aduation on the limb
of the instrument represents 5' ; and that exactly five
revolutions of the milled head carry the ci'oss-wires from one
of such graduations to the next. Moreover it will be
remembered that the milled head itself is divided into
60 parts. Now let us imagine that the graduation reads
274° 15', and a certain quantity equal in terms of the
micrometer to three whole revolutions (measured on the
comb c) and 41 '7 divisions of the milled he.ad. This
quantity, bj' which the cross-wires have to be moved back
to coincide with the 15' division obviously is equal to
3' and '^g^th of a minute, or 41 "-7. Adding this,
then, to the whole reading we say 274° 15' -f 3' 41 "'7
= 274° 18' 41"'7. If the reader has thoroughly grasped
the principle of this instrument — and we would urge
him to read and re-read our description until he does
— he will see how, by making the thread of the screw
very fine and the micrometer head very large, and, more-
over, graduating the latter sufliciently minutely, there is
scarcely any limit to our power of subdividing space.
Suppose, for example, that the frame in fig. 5 were moved
by a screw sc with 100 threads to the inch, and that the
head M h (instead of having 60 divisions) were divided into
100 parts. Then, quite obviously, the turning of the screw
through one of these parts would move the frame 100th of

100th— in short,

,,th of an inch. An instructive illus-

tration of the use of such a micrometer is found in the
operations conducted between 1843 and 1854 for the con-
struction of a standard yard-measure to replace that destroyed
in the fire which consumed the Houses of Parliament in
1834. It is to the indefatigable labours of the late Messrs.
Baily and Sheepshanks that we are mainly indebted for the
possession of our present national standard, though as

Mr. Baily unfortunately died a year after the commence-
ment of the work, the overwhelming proportion of
it devolved on Mr. Sheepshanks. The standard which
had been destroyed was made by Bird, the optician,
in 1760, from one, also of his construction, made in
1 758 ; the last in turn having the Exchequer yard of
Queen Elizabeth, constructed in 1588, and the yard of the
Eoyal Society, dating from 1742, as its prototype. We
have spoken just now of "the standard which had been
destroyed " ; but, as a matter of foct, both of Bird's yards —
that of 1758 as well as that of 1760 — were destroyed or
irretrievably damaged in the fire in 1834. But other means
of reference happily survived. Imprimk, there was General
Roy's 42-inch measure, constructed by Bird, and first used
for the measurement of that base on Hounslow Heath which
was the very beginning and foundation of the Ordnance
Survey. The first 36 inches of this were alone employed in
subsequent comparisons, or rather two copies of that part of
it. Then there was the yard constructed b^' Troughton
under the direction of Sir George Shuckburgh, and a yard
made by Capt. Kater in 1831. Formerly comparisons would
have been made by meansof beam-compasses, which, as most
people are aware, consist of a rigid and aljsolutely straight bar
of hard wood or metal, to one extremity of which is fixed a
fine point at right angles to its length ; while along the bar
slides a box carrying a similar point, which can be moved
by a screw, a vernier attached to the box showing the
precise distance that the fixed and movable points ai'e apart.
But this, after all, was only a rough and ready method of
taking off distances, and one open to the most serious ob-
jection that the mere in.sertion of the points of the compasses
into the lines or holes defining the ends of the measure
sufliced seriously to impair the graduation, to make the
lines when magnified into ruts, and the points into irre-
gularly-shaped pits, and so to gravely impair the value of the
original as a standard. Instead, then, of the material beam
compass, with its mischief-working points, the Commissioner
employed what we may call an optical one in the .shape of a
bar furnished with two micrometer micioscopes rigidly fixed
36 inches apart, beneath which the original bar was carefully
supported, and bisections of the dots on it made hy a con-
ti'ivance analogous to that described above. By the sub-
sequent substitution of the bar which had been copied from
this original, the necessarily minute marks were brought
under the microscope, and thus a series of comparison
measures instituted. More than two hundred thousand (I)
micrometer readings were taken from first to last, the larger
part of them by Mr. Sheepshanks in the cellars of the old
rooms of the Royal Astronomical Society in Somerset
House, where the comparing micrometrical apparatus
was fixed by Messrs. Troughton and Simms. We may
add that one division of the micrometer head of this
particular apparatus represented a movement of TTiy^jnyth
of an inch. A similar application of what we have
designated an optical beam compass is employed, in
geodesical operations, in the measurement of the fundamental
base lines. Such bases are, of course, measured ligidly in
straight lines by rods most ingeniously devised to preserve
an invariable length — a device which it may be worth while
to digress for a short time to describe. There is a fact
familiar to every one which is vulgarly and forcibly (if not
quite philosophically) expressed by saying that " bodies
expand liy heat and contract by cold." In the case of the
standard measures of which we have been speaking,
it is definitely understood that the distance between the
lines or dots on them is precisely 1 imperial yard at a tem-
lierature of 62°. If the thermometer rises above this, the
interval exceeds 36 imperial inches. If it falls below that
temperature, then is such interval less than a yard by an

March 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

]11

amount depending upon, and calculable from, the amount of
that fall. But in the work of measuring a terrestrial base-
line considerable difficulty will arise from variation of tem-
perature in different parts of the line to be measured, and
hence it becomes important to u.se measuring i-ods of an in-
variable length. Fig. G illustrates the extremely ingenious
manner in which the absolutely unvarying length of these
rods is insured.

n h r r'l' a'

iii

Fig. 6.

Reference to any work on physics will show that the linear
expansion of brass is to that of iron in the i)roportion of 1894
to 11(56 for any given increase of temperatures. Very well,
then. We will suppose that h h' and i i' represent a brass
and an iron bar- respectively, connected by a steel tie, s : h p
and b'p' being two flat steel tongues at their ends, moving on
conical brass pivots, so as to permit them to move through
small angles with the Hues (l>p, b'p' in our figure above)
square to the bars. These tongues are so adjusted that the
lengths b p, b'p' are to the lengths / p, i'p as 1894 : 11G6,
i.e. roughly as 5:3. Then a little attention will show
that if the bars are made of precisely the same length at a
temperature of, say, 62°, the tongues will be at that tem-
perature accurately perpendicular to the bars, and p p' will
be at their precise length (say 10 feet) apart. If, though,
we suppose that a change of temperature either expands
bb' to a a', or contracts it at c c', then as bp : i j) : : ba : Ik,
and by similar triangles the points 2^ ^'id p' ^^'iH remain at
an invariable distance. Returning from this digression,
we may just add that bars of this construction are laid end
to end in wooden troughs in an alisolutely straight Hne,
and, if they could be brought into absolute contact, the
process of measuring by their aid would be a comparatively
simple one. To permit them to jostle, however, would be
to introduce an element of possible serious inaccuracy.
Hence they are brought as close together as they con-
veniently can be without coming into actual contact, and
the intervening minute space is carefully measured by a
micrometer microscope in a manner analogous to that pre-
viously described.

So far we have proceeded on the assumption that the
bisection of the fiducial points whose distance is to be
measured is made by the eye ; but it is gravely doubtful if
that organ is trustworthy for such a purpose beyond the
-pjj-jjLjj-fith of an inch. How, then, are more minute quanti-
ties still measured 1 A very brief account of Sir Joseph
AVhitworth's perfectly marvellous machine, which measures
unei-riugly to the one-millionth of an inch (1), may enable
us to understand how this is effected. In this case the
measurement is tactile and not visual, and is effected in a
manner which may be summarised thus. Premising that
this astonishing piece of mechanism is only capable of
measuring e?i(7-lengths, we may say that it consists of a
massive cast-iron bed, with head-stocks at each end, some-
thing like those of a lathe. Extending centrally along the
top of the bed is a V-groove running the whole length
between the head-stocks. In this groove slide two square
bars so accurately fitted to the groove that they slide
with no perceptible friction and with absolute steadiness.
The ends are worked rigidly square to their .sides and (what
we may call) their inner ends, or those furthest from the
head-stocks, are turned up in the lathe, so as to present two
rigidly flat circular discs. Through each head-stock runs a
micrometer screw, made with extreme ca.re, by turning

which the bars are advanced along the Y-groove. Each of
these screws has 20 threads to the inch. The micrometer
head of the left-hand screw is divided into 250 parts : so that
if we turn this forward through one division it advances the

bar against which its free end abuts -.iV X

?.TiT '••*• TTTiTo"

th

of an inch. The right-hand screw is driven by what is
called a worm-wheel, or endless screw, of 200 teeth, and
the screw gearing into this carries a micrometer head with
250 divisions. Hence it will be seen that the advance
through one division of this last-named head must move the
bar touched by the primary screw -^^ X ^r^jr X Trytrtli of ^^
inch — in short, through exactly the one-millionth of
an inch. Of course each of the micrometer heads has
a fixed index, by which it can be read. Suppose,
now, that we have a standard inch bar with which we
pi'opose to compare a duplicate. Our standard is constructed
just like the original bars, and, as in their case, fits accu-
rately into the V-groove in the bed of the engine. The
free end of the left-hand screw is in actual contact with the
left-hand end of the standard ; but between its right-hand
end and the free end of the right-hand screw is interposed
a steel plate with rigidly parallel sides, called by Sii' Joseph
Whit worth a '• feeler " or "gravity piece." This has two
handles (something like those of a tap-wrench) which rest
on two shelves fixed one ou each side of the bed. When
the pressure exerted by the screw is imperceptible, if we
lift one of these handles the feeler drops again by its own
weight. When, however, the pressure is so regulated that
the feeler can be moved and yet does not fall when the
handle is relea.sed, the instrument is in adjustment. We will
imagine this to be the case with our standard inch bar. Then
the reading of the right-hand micrometer head is accurately
noted. We now turn it backwards, release the gravity
piece and the standard, and take the latter out, replacing
it by the duplicate to be tested. If the micrometer head
goes back to the same position as it at first occupied, then
are the bars of identically the same length ; if not, the
number of divisions gives the millionthsof an inch by which
they differ. The motion of the screw through one division
of the micrometer head will release the feeler when the
instrument is accurately adjusted.

Merely as a matter of course the instrument which we
have been endeavouring to describe is almost infinitely too
delicate for use in the workshop. At the same time, how-
ever, patterns and templates are now worked to a degi'ee of
rigid accuracy which would almost strike the engineers of
the early part of the century dumb with amazement, and
for the purposes of those refined measurements now im-
perative. Sir Joseph Whitworth has devised a somewhat
more simple form of engine. This consists, in eflect, of a
small bed, like that of a lathe, upon which are mounted
two head-stocks, very much like the poppet which carries
the back centre in an ordinary turning lathe. Here the
right-hand head-stock is a fixture, and the left-hand one
slides along the bed by means of a screw within it, the face
of the bed being graduated in inches. This graduation
enables the head- stocks to be at once placed approximately
at the required distance apart. The movable head-stock has
a screw within it of one-twentieth of an inch pitch,
furnished with a micrometer head with 250 divisions upon
it. As in the case of the more elaborate instrument, how-
ever, this left-hand head, once adjusted, is a fixture, and the
measuring is effected by the right-hand one, through which
travels a screw also with 20 threads to the inch, whose
head is graduated into 500 parts. Hence it will measure a
difference of length equivalent to ^V ^ shi' oi" -ruiuo*li of ^^
inch. With the description of a more simple instrument
still, the pocket thousandth gauge sold at Churchill's and
other tool warehouses, we may conclude our account of

112

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1887.

devices for minute linear measurement. It is illustrated in
fig. 7.

"Here the screw has 50 threads to the inch, and its
milled head is divided, as is seen in the sketch, into

Fig. 7.

20 parts, each of such parts quite obviously corresponding to
a motion end- ways of the screw of -J^ x -Jg, or xbW*^ °^ ^^
inch. This is a very handy little affair, and is a good deal
in use among physicists, and a most portable and convenient
instrument for measuring minute lengths rapidly and
conveniently.

MYTHS OF NIGHT AND WINTER.

By " Stella Occidens."

E have all he.ird the fairy tale of the " Sleep-
ing Beauty." At her birth all the fairies
but one were invited. Each gave the
princess some good gift. Bat the one who
was not invited predicted good fortune only
until the day the princess .should prick her
finger with a spindle. On this account all
spindles were kept out of her sight, locked up in a room, which
she was never allowed to enter. One day, as she was wander-
ing about the castle, she entered the forbidden room, and,
whilst playing with a spindle, pricked her finger. Instantly
the castle fell under the spell of enchantment. The princess
remained spell-bound at the spindle, and everyone in the
castle remained as they were at the moment when the acci-
dent befell.

After several years had passed a dense forest hid the castle
from sight, and it seemed as though the Slee])ing Beauty
might sleep on for ever. But a prince, who had lost his way
whilst hunting in the forest, perceived the castle, and sought
to see who lived there. Entering, he found the Sleeping
Beauty, and as he kissed her the spell of enchantment was
broken. She instantly awoke from her long sleep, and all
was restored to life and animation in the castle.

This story corresponds strangely with a German legend
of an ancient town on the Rhine, called Xanten. Here stood
the Castle of Nibelungen, and here Siegfried, the dragon-
slayer, was born. Tiring of the quiet life at home, he
wandered forth in search of adventures. Among other
exploits he destroyed a di-agon. He threw the carcass in the
fire, and a stream of fat running out, a little bird, sitting on
a tree above hitn, sang to him that if he bathed in the
dragon's blood he would become invulnerable. He did so,
but one spot on his shoulder was untouched by the oil owing
to a leaf which bad fiillen from the tree. Siegfried travelled
down the Pihine until a storm drove him on a rocky coast.
His horse brought him to a castle surrounded with flames,
through which the little bird told him to leap. After
passing through the flames, the little bird told Siegfried that
he would find a spell-bound maiden, under the power of a
magician, shut up in a castle. Siegfried entered the castle.
The stillness of death was on all the inmates. The servants
were in the position in which they had been at the moment
of enchantment : the cook before the fire, the butler pour-
ing out a glass of wine, the groom b3fore the horses, and the
very animals immovable before the mangers. At length

Siegfried entered the hall, where he found a beautiful
maiden sleeping on a couch, and bound with brass bands.
Siegfried cut the bands, and, kissing the maiden's rosy lips,
instantly released her from the spell of enchantment which
had endured for a century.

One would scarcely think of associating legends such as
these with nature myths, yet the wintry sleep of nature and
the sun sinking to rest in the caverns of night, have been
symholLsed by innumerable stories such as these, of spell-
bound maidens rescued b}' princely heroes. In the story of
the "Sleeping Beauty" the prince is Spring, who rescues
the spell-bound maiden (or the earth) from her deep slumber
beneath the icy mantle of winter. Locked in her ice-palace,
the Sleeping Beauty is restored only to life and activity
when the first bright rays of the Sun-god awaken her. Every
nation, indeed, has a myth corresponding with the above
legends, though diftering somewhat in the minor details.

In the " Arabian Nights " we find the well-known story
of Codabad and his brothers, over whom his father placed
him in authority. Codabad at theii' urgent request allowed
them to go out for a day's hunting. When several daj's
had passed yet they did not return, the father made Codabad
go in search of his brothers, threatening the utmost weight
of his resentment if he did not bring them safely home
again. He disguised himself as a shepherd, and started on
his travels. He arrived at a plain of great extent, in the
middle of which he saw a palace of black marble (the
mansion of Night). Wlien he drew near, he saw a beautiful
lady at one of the windows, who entreated him not to enter.
" Alas, young man ! " she said, " escape as fast as possible
from this fatal place, or you will fall into the hands of the
monster who inhabits it. A cruel black giant (Night) who
feeds chiefly on human flesh, resides in this palace ; he
seizes on all persons whose ill-fortune conducts them to this
plain, and shuts them up in his dark dungeon, whence they
are never let out but to be devoured by him."

Codabad asked the firir i)risoner if he could not save her
from such a fate, but whilst he was yet speaking the giant
approached them. He was a man of enormous size and
dreadful aspect, and wore such a large and mighty scimitar
that no one but himself could use it. However, Prince
Codabad drew his scimitar, and stood upon the defensive.
The giant would have passed liim unnoticed, telling him to
move out of his way, but Codabad struck the giant such a
blow on the knees, that he fell on the ground, yelling with
pain. He struck at Codabad with his great scimitar, but
the Prince aimed a blow at his right arm, and cut it off.
The giant fell, and the earth quaked beneath him. Codabad
completed the victory by chopping ofi' the giant's head, and
the fair lady was free. The rest of the prisoners in the
castle were released, and among them Codabad found his
forty-nine brothers.

This story somewhat resembles the account of the Panis
in the Eig-Veda, who are genii of Night and Winter. They
steal the cattle of the Sun, and carry them toward a dark
cave in the east. Sarama, the creeping Dawn, is sent by
Indra to trj' and recover them. The cattle of the Sun are
the clouds or cloud-maidens. In the myth of the Argonauts
they appear as the Golden Fleece, carried to the east by
Phrixos and Helle, who are themselves Nibelungs, or
" Children of the Mist " (Nephle), and are there guarded by
a dragon. In all these myths a treasure is stolen by some
power of darkness, and recovered by a hero of light who
slays the demon.

Among the Nibelungen lays, we find the famous myth
about Fafnir, who steals the Valkyrie Brynhild, and keeps
her shut up in a castle on the Glistening Heath, until some
champion shall be found powerful enough to rescue her.
The hero who saves her is Sigurd, the Northern Achilleus.

March 1, 1887.]

KNO^A^LEDGE

133

Eiding on his deathless horse, and wielding his resistless
sword Gram, he forces his way into the castle, slays Fafnir,
and recovers the Valkyrie. The Valkyries are also cloud-
maidens, or Niljelungs.*

There is some resemblance to be traced between the
horse which bears Sigurd into the place where Brynhild is
imprisoned, the wooden horse which enters Ilion, and the
l)ruidic steed which leaps with Sculloge over the walls of
Fiach's enchanted castle.f

Among the Greek legends we have the account of Odysseus,
who is ensnared by Calypso, the nymph of darkness, and
kept in bondage. Then we have the story of Hercules, who,
whilst reposing by the banks of the Tiber, has his cattle
stolen by the three-headed monster Cacus. He drags the cattle
(or clouds) into a dark cavern (Night), and does not recover
them until he breaks open the entrance of the cavern and
destroys the demon. Professor Fiske tells us that the
three-headed monster is a near kinsman of Geryon's three-
headed dog Orthros, and of the three-headed Kerberos, who
guards the dark regions below the horizon. He is the
original were-wolf or Eakshasa, who steals the bright cattle
of Helios, and hides them in the black cavernous rock,
from which they are afterwards rescued by the Schamir or
lightning- stone of the solar hero, t Then we have the
beautiful myth of Endymion, his name being one of the
many names of the Sun, but having special reference to the
setting-sun. Endymion sank into an eternal sleep in the
Latmian Cave, or cave of Night, after living but one day.
Selene the Moon sees him, loves him, and keeps him cap-
tive. In the poetical language of Elis, people said, " Selene
loves," instead of •' it is getting late " ; " Selene embraces
Endymion," instead of "the Sun is setting," and "the
Moon is rising"; "Selene kisses Endymion into sleep,"
instead of " it is Night." §

This myth reminds us of the story of Tannhiiuser, the
Frankish knight, who lost his way whilst travelling at
twilight past the Hijrselberg. " He saw a white gleaming
ligure, of matchless beauty, standing before him, and
beckoning him to her." He left his horse and disappeared
behind the moonlit cliffs, lured by Venus Ursula, the foir
goddess of Night. She kept him captive for seven years,
and then, longing once more to return to his old home, he
prayed to the Virgin Mother, who released him. Finding
no priest who would absolve him from his sin, not even the
Pope, whom he journeyed to Rome to see, he returned in
despaii' to the Venusberg, and has never been heard of since.

Even the story of Rip Van Winkle, who wandered away
among the CatskiUs, lured by the gnomes, and return-
ing after a sleep of twenty years, is um-ecognised and forgotten
by his own wife and child, had its origin in the nature myths
of Winter and Night.

{To he continued.)

AMERICANISMS.

By Richard A. Proctok.

Fexce-eidixg, the art of remaining on the fence (see
December number). It is to be carefully distinguished from
riding on a rail, though a fence-rider not unfrequently ends
his career by being a rail-rider.

Fetch. Bartlett notices the nautical phrase " to fetch u\i
all standing," and thence simply to " fetch up," meaning to
stop suddenly, as an Americanism — though this expression is

* " Myths and Myth-makers." Fiske, p. 132.

t Ibid. p. 187. X Ibid. p. 118.

§ " Chips from a German Workshop," p. 80. Max Miiller.

probably much commoner in England than in America.
But he altogether overlooks the Americanism, " to fetch," as
meaning to influence strongly. The expression is used pro-
vincially in this sense in England ; but it is commonly so
used in the States, even by educated persons. Thus I
remember a college professor telling me how unwilling he
had been to accede to a publisher's request that he should
write a treatise on the sun, till told that if he would not
another person, whom he knew to be incompetent, would be
invited to write the volume. " That fitchrd me," he said
with emphasis; meaning that that was an argument he
could not resist.

Few. Used for " a little," may be a shade commoner in
America than in England. But so common a Gockneyism
can hardly be called an Americanism.

F.F.V., First Families of Virginia. — A term used
under the amusing delusion that the original settlers in
Virginia were all, or nearly all, descended from the noblest
ftimilies (in the conventional sense) in England. There
were five or six such among the first two hundred ; and not
all even of those few left any to succeed them. But the
great majority were much more useful settlers. The first
wives of the settlers were sent out as assorted samples, pur-
chaseable at as many pounds of tobacco as they would bring.
They averaged 120 lbs. of the best Virginian. The next lot
brought 150 lbs. per head. The First. Families delusion,
however, does no harm. Perhaps in some cases, by sug-
gesting the thought that noblesse uhlige, it does good, like
the corresponding idea in England of which our Thackeray
has made amusing use. The Xew York Tribune asserted in
August 18G1, that F.F.V. had come to standfor Fast Footed
Virginians, because of undue alacrity displayed before the
enemy. We had supposed in England that the Virginians
at Bull's Run had been fast-footed with face forward to the
foe. But the newspaper writer may have been too far from
the field to know how the matter really stood, or how the
foemen on either side really ran.

FicE, or FvsE. In Kentucky a small dog or cur. Nares
has the word in his glossary in the form "fyst," as " a foist-
ing hound or cur of the lap-dog kind."

Figure, To. As, "you may figure on that," meaning
you may count on that. Also, but less commonly, figure is
used for thinking over ; as " figure on that " — " think of it."
This, the only meaning given by Bartlett, is probably the
original meaning of the expression. He gives the usage as
Western, but it is quite commonly heard in New England.

FiLlBiSTER. From the Dutch vrijbuiler, German J'rei-
heutfr, English freebooter, the French flibustier, or the
Spanish jihbustero. The word has come into tolerably free
use in America, especially South-west. It may be under-
stood as the equivalent of " freebooter." The following
passage from a letter written by General llenniugsen to
Senator Toombs in 1857 gives a good idea of the use of the
word, both as noun and as verb, and is worth reading for
other reasons :

" What was Moses but a filibuster, whose mission was to
dispossess tribes retrograding (or whose civilisation was cor-
rupting before matured), and to plant in their stead another
people, whose subsec[uent annals show them to have been
at least in nowise superior to our own ^ What were the
Normans from whom the sovereigns of Great Britain affect
to derive their descent, and a portion of their title to the
crown, but filibusters 1 What the Pilgrim Fathers but
filibusters 1 What State, what territory in this Union has
not been filibustered from the Indians, or purchased from
those who had filibustered it? Have ever five years elapsed
down to the present time, since the landing of the Pilgrim
Fathers, that some of the Monarchies of Europe have not,
somewhere, been filibustering something ? "

114

♦ KNOWLEDGE -

[March 1, 1887.

FiLlBCSTERiSM. An elegant derivative.

FiLLiPEEN, or Philopeen. It seems pi-obable that this
word " Fillipeen," certainly derived from the German Viel-
liebchen, reached us in England from Americji, where
German words, as well as German ways and customs, are
more common in social and family life than in the Old
Country.

Fill the Bin, To. To answer to a description, be the
person asked for, or the like. Are you so and so ? says
question, " and then comes answer like an Absey book,'
" I fill the bin."

First Swathe. Equivalent to our English slang " first
chop."

Fits. " To give any one fits," sometimes " particular
fits," means to make him singularly uncomfortable, or to
give him startling evidence of disgust at something or
other he has done. The expression is often heard now in
England, but I fancy, from the frequency with which it is
heard in Ameiica, that it had its origin over the water.
Our Enghsh slang equivalent would be " Fll make him look
nine ways for Sunday " — that is, I presume, for Sabbath rest.
The literary reader will immediately i-ecall here the intro-
duction of this expression into a description (in the classical
pages of Punch nearly thirty years ago) of a fight between
Tom Sayers and Bob Travers, where we were told how Tom
gave Bob a straight one which

Made him liiok nine ways for Sunday and finally fail to per-
ceive it.

Fix. A predicament or condition. To be " in a fix," as
equivalent to being in an awkward situation, is about as
commonly heard in England as in America. But I think
the origin of the expression, regarded as a form of slang,
is Transatlantic,

Fix, To. The use of this word in the sense of arranging,
and where the idea of fixity is not at all implied, would seem
to have arisen from some confusion between fingency and
fixation — as if the word had the meaning of the Latin _/in(/o,
fingere, instead of that only of the Latin figo, fgere. At
least I know of no use of the word "fix" in America which
would not fairly represent the meaning of one or other of the
two verbs fingo and figo. It certainly has a strange effect
to hear " fix " used in one of the wrong senses — as " Let me
fix that feather," when the idea is to make it wave naturally ;
" I will fix the table," meaning " I will lay the cloth and
set the plates, knives, forks, &c. ; " or still more oddly when,
as I heard it used only a day or two since, in reply to a
child's cry, '• My dress is caught, I wish you would loosen
it," the answer comes, " Wait a moment and I'll fix it,"

PUBLIC SCHOOLS ATLAS.*

ETTER provision has been made in this
work for teaching our public school boys
geography than has been made to teach
them Latin and Greek in .all the non-
sensical grammars written for them from
the days of the Tudors until the last most
monstrous wrong was done the young folk
by the " Public Schools Grammar," pub-
lished a few years ago. Why geogi-aphy should be taught
sensibly and languages in a blunder-headed manner it were
difficult to say ; but certainly it is fortunate that the
preparation of books on geography did not fall into the

* " The Public Schools Atlas of Modern Geography, in 33 Maps."
With an introduction by the Rev, Geo, Butler, " New edition.
Longmans & Co., London. Price us.

hands of the wiseacres who discovered that extremely
difficult logical questions involved in grammar were fit
food for boyish minds, (Puzzle out, reader, the true signi-
ficance of a few such words as declination, case, genitive,
ablative, adjective, conjiigation, supine, gerund, etc, and
the complex nature of the problems you were supposed to
deal with at school will be cle.ar to you,) Because, if
geogr.aphy had been dealt with in the same way we should
have had our boys learning the formula; for the barometrical
determination of heights before they were told the heights
of the various mountains on the earth, or studying the
diflerential equations for fluid motion before they learned
the coiu'ses of the principal rivers, (This may seem extra-
vagant ; but ask the fifty leading philologists of the world
to tell the boys who learn of supines, for example, the
logical significance of the word — and why those particular
verbal forms might not equally have been regarded as
prones or xiprighls — and guess from their replies whether
the logic of grammar is not as far from being fit teaching
for young folk learning languages as mathematical formula
from serving as a proper introduction to geographical
matters,)

In the book before us we have geography illustrated in a
very simple and attractive manner. The scale of the maps
is adetpiate. They are not so overcrowded with names that
the wood cannot be seen for the trees. The rivers are
clearly and efl'ectively represented from their sources, and
the positions of towns with reference to them and to the
sea- coast have been very carefully indicated. There are not
too many maps, yet there are enough for the purpose aimed
at, and the atlas is cheap.

As regards details, the following features seem decided
improvements on the old plan. The names of countries
and of their chief divisions have been engraved more
compactly than of old, the initial letter of each chief word
being relatively larger than usual ; the names are engraved
horizontally wherever this has been possible ; and with one
exception (the United States) the maps have not been
folded.

To one featui'e of the maps an exception must be taken.
While the outlines of the continents and islands, the courses
of rivers, and the jiositions of towns, are printed in blue, the
meridians and parallels, the outlines of countries and
counties, and the names of places are printed in black. So
far as the colours are concerned this arrangement is con-
venient enough. But when we I'emember how the two
printings are necessarily managed, and that by no possible
arrangement can exact " registering " be obtained (simply
because the wetted paper expands irregularly, and is
irregularly compressed at each printing), we see that the
meridians and outlines of countries should be given by the
same printing as the rivei'S and the outlines of continents —
necessarily, therefore, in the same colours. The names and
the map frame might be separately printed (black), and no
harm done, but the outlines of countries and counties cannot
be safely so printed, and for the meridians and parallels to
be separately printed is seriously objectionable. These are,
in effect, the measuring marks on maps, and to have them
wrong is to have the whole map wrong. When we have
mentioned that in our cop}', Greenwich, owing to defective
registering, appears to be measurably east of the first
meridian, which we know is the meridian of Greenwich, the
fundamental character of the defect will be recognised. Of
course in another copy Greenwich may appear west of the
meridian, and in some copies may chance to be just right.
But this does not mend matters. In every copy some maps
must have every single town shown in wrong longitude or
latitude.

The maps of this atlas are of course drawn like those of

March 1, 1887. ]

♦ KNOAA^LEDGE ♦

115

all other atlases, on the projections which were employed
two centuries ago, which served very well at a time when
men had very vague ideas of the true outlines of continents
and countries. Spain, as it appears in the map of Africa,
is quite another Spain from Spain in the map of Europe.
And so with many other ca.ses. But probably in three or
four centuries more truthful projections will come into use.

By Eichaed A. Proctor.

Professor Newton, of Yale College, has advanced a
theory of the origin of meteors, which Professor Young,
of Princeton College, has endorsed, apparently giving up
Schiaparelli's. According to this theory, meteors are the
fragments broken off (when or how the deponent sayeth
not) from comets. The theory labours under the slight
objection of explaining none of the characteristics either
of comets or of meteors. In fact, most of the theories of
comets and meteors which are at present chiefly in vogue —
I mean in legard to numerical acceptance — are like the
Hindoo theory of the earth's stability, according to which
the earth stands on an elephant, the elephant on a tortoise,
that on something else, and so on ad hijiniium. Thus
Schiaparelli taught that meteors travel in the tracks of
comets, that comets were meteor streams gathered out of
the star depths, and meteor streams got into the star depths
out of somewhei'o else, leaving us there in infinite uncer-
tainty. Profe-ssor Newton interpolates a link, which still
leaves the perplexity at the farther end of the chain
undiminished — meteors, it seems, follow in the tracks of
comets because they were chipped from comets. Were we
not better ofl"with Schiaparelli's theory pure and simple?
* * *
The Times' record of " Science in 1880 " is manifestly from
the versatile and discriminating pen of Mr. .J. N. Lockyei'.
The progress of astronomy, in which I naturally take chief
interest, is full of promise. It appears to be included in two
statements. First, a solar eclijise occurred in August, "to
observe which a party was sent from England under the
direction of Mr. Lockyer ; " and secondly, " the laboratory for
solar physics at South Kensington, under the superintendence
of Mr. Lockyer," is still " groping for a solution of the gi-eat
problem in solar physics which ]Mr. Lockyer is understood "
(it is really Clarke's, of Cincinnati) " to have started." The
" fascinating theory," as Mr. Lockyer calls it, will soon, he
is convinced, be e.-tabli.shed : this theory being that " It
only requires heat enough to convert everything into
glowing hydrogen." One recalls just here the theory of the
fascinating next-door gentleman, on the garden wall, in
'• Nicholas Nickleby," who promised that, under certain con-
ditions, all should be '■ gas and gaiters." Gaiters do not
appear in ]\Ir. Lockyer 's theory, but there may be reference
to them in the remark (not apparently justified by the recog-
nition of hydrogen as the element which is in and through
all things) that the solar physics work at South Kensington
is evidently " very excellent," and " pregnant with practical
issues for humanity." It is to be hoped so, for a goodly
sum is paid each year for the work ; and some men of
science have been unkind enough to say that nothing worth
the paper on which it has been recorded has been done by
the solar phy.sics folk. But their superintendent ought to
know ; and since be says their " very excellent work is
pregnant with practical issues for humanity," we must
possess our souls in patience and wait to see what this singu-
larly mixed metaphorical promise may imply in the way of
performance.

A FEW days ago my partner at whist had a hand with no
card above an eight. Within two days I was told by a
whist-player, at one of the places where I was lecturing,
that he had had such a hand, and was asked if I hud ever
heard of a hand so poor. The coincidence was strange
enough, but hands even poorer are on record. " Pembiidge"
mentions a hand with nothing in it above a five, and only
one five. I think he mentions Surbiton as the place wheie
the hand was dealt — if that matters. If the chance of a
hand with nothing above an eight is required, we get it by
noting that, while the number of possible hands is

52 . 51 . 50 . -49 . 48 , 47 . 46 . 45 . 44 . 43 . 42 . 41 . 40

(which call A), divided by the prod\ict of the first thirteen
numbers, the number of hands with no card above an
eight is
28 . 27 . 2G . 25 . 24 . 2.3 . 22 . 21 . 20 . I'J . 18 .17.16

(which call B) divided by the same product. Hence the
chance of a hand with nothing above an eight is represented
by Bh-A. This I find to be 1 in 16959|iJ- ; .so that the
odds are 16958}-^',^ to 1 against such a hand being dealt to
a given player at any given deal.

* * *

A correspondent sends a singularly evolutionary attick
on evolution from the Christian World. Mr. S. It. Patti-
son, under pretence (at least, so I suppose) of attacking
evolution, tries to show that " there has been an unfolding
of the Divine plan throughout the ages, by steps, not by an
inclined plane, every step being a separate creation." This,
of cour.se, is evolution pure and simple, despite the word
" creation." A man's son diflers in finite degree from the
man, and is in that sense a separate creation ; and no evo-
lutionist believes in an inclined-plane process of develop-
ment which would involve an infinite number of generations.
Mr. Pattison adds that metaphysics knows nothing of evo-
lution in the nature of a force from without. Neither does
science, evolution being in its very essence a process working
from within.

I ii.WE sometime-i wondered that no one seems to have
recognised as the main theme of the synoptic gospels —
coming again and again into prominence — the absurd im-
pertinencies of humbugs and hypocrites, and the quaintly
humorous but crushing way in which they were dealt with.

* * *

Mr. E. L. Garbett, with whom I have had some slight
" passages " in past times, having studied the prison-cell
puzzle and the Josephus puzzle as presented at p. 43
(Knowledge for December), writes as follows :

These two puzzles are marvellously parallel. Of the 30-cell
puzzle, Mr. Proctor "believes" there is a solution. Well; just
colour the cells chessboard-fashion, and you see that every move
must change your colour. You are to visit all the cells, therefore to
make 35 moves. An odd number of moves must (like a single
move) change your colour. But A and B arc of the same colour 1
Yet Mr. Proctor " believes " there is a solution — that is, that you
can get from A to B by 35 moves ! That is about equivalent to
believing that such a book as Josephus's " Antiquities," under
patronage of and circulated by command of an imperial Cajsar,
could have forgeries interpolated. A man who can believe either
of these must be about the most credulous of miracle-swallowers
alive.

* * *

!Mr. Garbett's style is a trifle crisp. One is reminded of
the schoolboy manner, " Well, you imi^t be a tliundering
fool to believe that." An odd thing, too, is that I had not
myself thought it necessary to point out to the readers of
Knowledge, not wishing to insult them, what Mr. Garbett
so kindly points out to me. It seemed too obvious. It

116

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1887.

was clear that the solution must be by a dodge of some sort.
I was far too busy to give any attention to the puzzle when
I threw it iu, just as it stood, with my Gossip. But the
moment one looks (anyone, it would seem, except Mr.
Garbett) for the solution, it is as obvious as that, without
the dodge, no solution would be possible.

* * *

As for the Josephus puzzle, the question of interpolation
has in reality very little to do with the matter. Nearly
every commentator nf repute has admitted that the passage
relating to Jesus is an obvious and a most clumsy forgery ;
and if the passage relating to John the Baptist is not a
forgery, then, since it is entirely inconsistent with the
Gospel narrative, we get a more difEcult puzzle by its
admission than when we reject it. As for the patronage
and command of an imperial Csesar (not a Christian), how
that would prevent interpolation centuries after that
imperial C'wsar was dead and turned to clay, Mr. Garbett
might find it diflio'ult to show. That interpolations and
forgeries of the most unscrupulous kind were rife in the
third, fourth, and following centuries, that as Eusebius,
prince of liars, proclaimed that it was held right to forge
and lie for the glory of Christianity, we know ; and we
know no reason why Josephus or Tacitus, or any non-
Christian writer of the critical first and second centuries,
should have escaped the process, no matter what imperial
Ca?sar had patronised them or commanded them to prepare
the treatises they wrote.

* * *

But the passages regarded by all competent ci'ilics as
interpolations in Josephus, and those regarded by many
competent critics as interpolations in Tacitus, would if
accepted prove nothing beyond what is tolerably well known
without them. It would indeed be preposterous to assert
on the strength of the doubtful passage about Jesus Christ
that Josephus regarded him as the Messiah, for Josephus
manifestly (fifty pages could be cited to show this) regarded
his countrymen's hopes about the coming of the Messiah at
that time as fallacious and dangerous. But if Josephus
really wrote and really believed it (which is absuid) that
would no more help to establish the belief ascribed to him
than Tacitus's description (supposing the passage not inter-
polated) of the Christians as malefactors would prove them
to have been such.

* * *

Some correspondents, by the way, have dwelt rather
strongly on Kenan's acceptance of the more than doubtful
passage in Josephus relating to Jesus. The fact that Kenan
does not refer to the question whether the passage is genuine
shows that he had not critically examined the matter. He
I'efers to the passage in such a wa}*, too, as to imply precisely
that view of the puzzle which I have indicated. His words
are: " Jose pit a, ne I'aii 37 et ccrivaut sur hi.fiiidusiecle,
inentionne son execution " {V execution, cest d, dire, de Jesus)
" en quelques liijnes, coiinne im, cvennmcnt d' importance
secondaire ."

Uf course the real Josephus puzzle resides in the circum-
stance that many of the facts related by him as occurring
thirty or forty years after the alleged date of the crucifixion
seem to have been worked iato the narratives given in the
synoptic gospels. Tlie puzzle to be solved is to explain how
this may have happened through sheer coincidence, or, if
this is impossible, then to show whether Josephus, writing in
the first century, borrowed for his history events which liad
really happened thirty years before the time he assigns to
them, or whether the borrowing was the work of the
synoptical evangelists writing some half a century later.

By the way, in the second paragraph, on the second
column of p. 60, there is a rather curious blending of state-
ments. After "a work with which Enoch had nothing to
do " there should have been a full stop. Then this " Matthew
appears to have left a record in writing of the teachings of
Christ, which are quoted — probably from Matthew's record
— in the gospel aecording to, certainly not 6//, Matthew.
This gospel appeared in all probability," <tc. This sets the
paragraph right, except that in the seventh line from the
end, " The Gospel '' should be " this gospel.''

* * *

"A Square" sends a '-wail from Flatiand," or, in other
words, the well-known Tridimensional, whose romances of
Flatiand have touched many students of cjuadri-dimensional
mathematics, has sent a letter describing the anguish of
" A Square " imprisoned in such cells as Mr. Garbett foiled
to find escape from. We would puldish this piteous lamenta-
tion were more of our readers quadri-dimensional ; but the
number of such readers is so limited, that we must ask the
ingenious author to tbrgive us if we refrain. Will he kindly
regard his letter as printed in planes persistently perpen-
dicular to those of the pages of Knowledge.

* * *

W. E. H. sends some remarks on the Knight's Tour at
Chess. The subject has been, however, so exhaustively
treated already that we must not touch it. We are relinked
already for allowing those Fifteen ch.arming School girls to
disport themselves in our pages.

* * *

A MILITARY correspondent points out that the six lines
enclosing ten spaces, if set in the manner shown in fig. 6,
page 0 (Knowledge for November), can be arranged so as
to give a symmetrical figure, by making the large outer
triangle and the centre triangle f quilateral. The figure thus
obtained does not fulfil any of the conditions of axial sym-
metry to which I referred. The symmetry is of the three-
legged Manx- arms description. My arrangement has this
kind of symmetry, plus tri-axial symmetry.

* * *

The same correspondent expresses a wish that the first
page of the cover of Knowledge should bear no advertise-
ments, but be wholly given to title and the contents. He
says, " none of the best periodicals have advertisements, to
my knowledge, on the front of the cover, but the contents
are printed in plain type, the articles and authors being
distinguished by a different type, so that one can see at a
glance what the magazine contains : this seems to me most
necessary." The cover of Knowledge is nearly the same in
the monthly form as it was in the weekly, and our corre-
spondent is aware that the AtJienaum and Acudemj/, to
mention no other weeklies of similar standing, have adver-
tisements on the firet page of cover. It did not seem worth
while to change, especially as on the stalls only a few inches
near the top of quarto publications are displayed. Any one
who has to take out the magazine to see the fi'ont page in
full can readily at the same time see the contents as at
present printed. The change lecommended would involve
a considerable yearly loss ; and already tLe exj)ense3 of
Knowledge run so close to the possible proceeds of its sale
(we did have it for a time so that the more copies were sold
the greater the loss) that a change of the kind is practically
impossible. Let Knowledge be compared, simply in quan-
tity of matter, with any periodical of the same character,
and it will be recognised how we are handicapped.

* * *

Mr. Alfred Brown has succeeded in trisecting the angle,
"and can give geometrical proof of the same." He desires

March 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

117

to know what is the value of the discovery to me for
publication. The angle can be trisected geometrically in
hundreds of ways. In my " Cieometry of the Cycloidal
Curves " there is a trisection. The difficulty is to trisect
the angle by a method which shall involve the use only of
the line and circle — that is, ruler and compasses. Supposing
Mr. Brown had managed this, which is equivalent to sup-
posing that he had discovered a way of making steel rails
out of cheese-cakes, the discovery would be worth a sum
which may fairly be represented bv .r sovereigns, where x is
the root of the equation, x' + (1,000)- = 0.
* * *
The following words of a letter I have just received
from a friend in London, who kindly sifts out all Know-
ledge correspondence, and forwards to me only what is
worth forwarding, may save a certain class of correspondents
trouble :

Some kind correspondents are solicitous about your soul, and add
to the store of tlie waste-paper basket.

i\Iy friend evidently shares my opinion that any one who
imagines it his duty to turn from the culture of his own
soul-business to inquire into the soul-busine.ss of others, is
necessarily what tlie profane call a humbug, and probably a
hypocrite.

J\fblftU£f.

The Functions of the Brain. By David Ferhier, M.D.
(London : Smith, Elder, & Co. 1886.) — Dr. Ferrier's work
on the functions of the brain is already a classic on the
subject with which it deals. This second edition has been
largely rewritten, and much new matter has been added,
bringing the book up to date in every particular. The
larger portion consists, as before, of Dr. Ferrier's own ex-
perimental investigations into the localisation of faculty in
the various regions of the brain ; but these are expanded
into a systematic exposition of the entire subject by the
addition of much recent physiological and pathological
material. As yet, our knowledge in this du-ection is of the
inchoate sort which, for the most part, interests specialists
alone ; the results are still few and hazy ; the faculties
locali.sed are vague and psychologically unimportant ; and
only students of nervous phenomena are likely to wade
through the long details of Dr. Ferrier's operations on dogs
and monkeys. The electrisation of portions of the hemi-
sphere was followed, as a rule, by special movements of the
limbs or other relatively uninteresting motions. Cerebral
topography, in fact, must reach far higher planes than this
before it becomes a matter of popular study. The results
so far are immensely valu;\ble, but valuable as first indica-
tions only. We shall have still to wait a long time before
we get a real knowledge of the way the brain works and the
parts performed by its several portions.

Modern Jletkoch of lUustratini) Books. (Elliot Stock.) —
This book is the latest addition to " The Book Lover's
Library," edited by Henry B. Wheatley, and although the
title-page does not bear any author's name, Mr. H. Trueman
Wood's name appears on the cover, and he ia presumably
mainly respon.sible for the contents. In the preface he says
that he has endeavoured to avoid technical details except
such as were necessary to make descriptions intelligible, and,
with a view to help those who may require fuller or more
special information, he has added in an Appendix a list of a
few works where the best information can bs obtained.
Much valu.able and intere.sting information is given as to
various methods of illustrating books, but the main interest

of the work is in the description given of some of the many
modern " processes " which are now so much in vogue, some
of which bid fair to supersede wood-engraving for certain
purposes. The information given as to the methods pursued
by the inventors of these various proce.sses is necessarily
limited, as they are mostly worked in secret, but the
whole of the work is very interesting to those engaged in
the production of books, whether as authors, printers, or
publishers.

IlazdVs Annual Cyclopwdia, 1887, containing nearly 2,000
Concise and Explanatory Articles, on every Topic of Current
Political, Social, and General Interest referred to by the
Press and in Daily Conversation. Edited by E. D. Price,
F.G.S. Ptevised to February 7, 1887. Price 3s. Gd.
(Hazell.) — We give the title of this book in full in order
that we may say at once that the contents fully justify it.
There is scarcely any subject of current interest that we
have not found mentioned, and, judging from those subjects
on which we presume to be competent to speak, we must
say that the details given are exceedingly accurate. We
cannot speak too highly of the general conception and
execution of the work, and shall now look upon it as an
indispensable supplement to the indispensable " Whitaker."
To illustrate this we will take some subjects at random, on
all of which in " Hazell " are given very u.seful information,
but on none of which can we get any help from " Whitaker" :
viz., Kyrle Society, Socialism, Bi-metallisin, Jezreelites, Tithes,
^'oms de Plume, Noms de Theatre, Society for Psychical
Research. One of the most interesting features is the series
of short biographies of living celebrities, both EnglLsh and
foreign; but the most useful articles, we think, are those
devoted to subjects of current interest, but which are fre-
quently those on which the generality of the public have
little accurate information. We may quote as illustrations
the articles on Socialism, Tithes, and Bi-metallism, men-
tioned above.

The World of Thought. A Novel. By the Author of
" Before I BEf;.\x to Speak." (London : Simpkin, Mar-
shall, ct Co.) — Landon Deecroft. A Socialistic Novel. By
Laox Ramsey. (London : William Reeves.) — We have
classed these two books together as, probabl}', two of the
worst novels it was ever our misfortune to be compelled
to wade through. Wide as the poles asunder in some
respects, they have this in common, that they are written in
the most bombastic and inflated language possible, and the
ordinary elements of human interest, incident, surprise, or
plot are practically absent in both.

As Mr. Landon Deecroft is a Socialist, who wears " his
black hair combed back over a finely-shaped head" (who
does not recognise the blatant platform speaker with his hair
combed back '.'), it is not surprising that he rants tlirough
whole pages and chapters of the book. Of course, this
Socialist is a kind of angel on earth, while his partner, poor
man, who has only worked and saved money, is exhibited as
a mean and contemptible creature, because, apparently, he
has an objection to lend his capital without interest. These
who can keep awake over the stilted maundering of Landon
Deecroft, Annie Binham & Co. (we confess, in the most
sacred confidence, that we could vot}i, may learn how mar-
vellously ]Slr. Deecroft's Communistic farm succeeded — on
paper — in one of the Northern States of America.

In what grade of society the author of " Before I Began to
Speak " has moved it would be exceedingly difficult to deter-
mine, so uncommonly vague are his ideas of the manners and
customs of English ladies and gentlemen. We wonder who
told him that a guest specially invited teahouse to meet and
thank a sick man could or would ever send up his card to
him ! Or, again, in what social rank it would be tolerated
that people should break ofl' a conversation to produce pocket-

118

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1887

books or diaries, and read out Tupper-and-water by the
yard ! Why does not the writer of such stuff study
Thackeray and Trollope, and learn how people in the posi-
tion of his own puppets do act, and speak, and think 1

National Lessons from the Life and WorJcs of Carh/Ie.
By Alfred Fraxcison. (London : London Literary
Society.) — Mr. Francisou's " Lessons " consist in upwards of
one hundred pages of sermonising ; of, sooth to say, rather a
dreary character. If we understand him (of which we are
not overweeningly confident), he admires what Carlyle did,
but not the motives which prompted him in doing it. More-
over, he is an admirer of that extremely self-assertive, not
to say " bumptious," person, Mr. Euskin. It is to be
deplored that the acquaintance either of our author or of his
compositor with the spelling of words not strictly English
appears to be limited. Thus we find it asserted that
" L'amour et la fumee ne peuve se chacher," the verb
which we have italicised being as " the French of Stratford-
atte-Bowe." Again, on p. 14, and again on p. 20, " SartJts
resartus " appears, as do " magna charge?-.? " on pp. 25
and 28. Might we further venture to hint that the famous
jjoet spelt his name Shelley, and not " Shelly," as rendered
by Mr. Francison on p. 39 ]

Lndia Revisited. By Samuel Smith, M.P. Reprinted from
the Contemporary lievieu: (London : Wm. Isbister.
188G.) — The man who is to discuss Indian affairs with any
claim to attention should belong to no English political
party. In the pamphlet before us Mr. Smith tries very hard
to treat his theme in an impartial and judicial spirit, but it is
abundantly evident that he has been sedulously crammed bj'
the " Baboos," and sees the problems which await solution
in our mighty Eastern empire almost wholly through the
spectacles which those artless beings have provided for him.
His remarks on the Drink traffic may, however, be read with
advantage.

Euclid Revised. Books 1. and II. By R. C. J. Nixos,
M.A. Clarendon Press Series. (Oxford : Clarendon Press.
1880.) — Of all the attempts to improve the imperishable work
of the mighty Alexandritm geometer, Mr. Nixon's appears
to us to be the most successful. By the simplification of
some of the methods of proof he is enabled to omit certain
propositions altogether ; although, in view of the omni-
potent examiner, these are subsequently given at the end of
each book. His addenda, exercises, and appendices are very
notably good.

The Public School Chemistr}/. By J. H. Anderson, M.A.
(London: Cassell & Co. 1886.) — Mr. Anderson well de-
scribes his book as "a .syllabus for the master and an
abstract for the hoy." It is essentially one to teach from,
and differs in this respect from the mass of elementary
works in chemistry which are so abundant. The familiar
pictures of the retort, the pneumatic trough, the spirit-
lamp — et id genus ortme — are wholly absent from its pages;
in fact, it is intended to supplement and not replace the
instruction given in class or at lecture. Its value for this
purpose is undeniable.

We have also received from ^Messrs. Griffith, Farran,
Okeden & ^'fAsh Pettitt's Shilling Folio ScrihhUnij Diary, The
Week, and Petlitt's Desk Remembrancer, each in its way useful
for noting current events, reminding their possessor of his
appointments, ifec. They are cheap, and well got up. From
Messrs. Moffat k Paige we have Digestinij Riturns into
Sti.inmaries, by E. J. Henchie and J. Hall, a Civil Service
cram book ; and six parts of the Ilome Lesson Book to the New
Explanatory Reader, which seems well calculated to enable
children attending Board and National schools to get up
their lessons intelligentlv.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR MARCH.

By F.R.A.S.

HE persistent observer of the sun may be rewarded
by the ocoasinnal view of spots, but they aie be-
coming more infrequent, and a really fine one is a
rare object. The zodiacal light may now be well
seen after sunset in the west, as a blunt ill-defined
cone of light, as bright as, or brighter than, the
Milky Way. The night sky will be found depicted
on map iii. of " The Stars in their Seasons.''
Minima of Algol (" The Stars in their Seasons,"
map i.), will occur at llh. 4.Sm. P.M. on the 2nd ; 8h. 32m. P.M. on
the 5th; Ih. 25m. A.M. on the 23rd; lOh. 14m. P.M. on the 25th;
and 7h. 3m. P.M. on the 28th ; and at other times where either the
light of the sky or the inconvenience of the hour renders their
observation difficult or impossible. Mercury is an evening star
during the first half of March, and during the first week or so may
be picked up with the naked eye just above the western horizon
after sunset. He attains his greatest eastern elongation from the
sun (18° H') on the 5th. Venus is an evening star, too, and may in
like manner be seen in the west directly after .-unset. Ste is just
now a singularly uninteresting object fur the observer with the
telescope. Mars is invisible. Jupiter souths during the early
morning hours, but he rises soon after half-past 10 o'clock at night
at the beginning of March, and rather more than two hours
sooner at the end of it. It will be found just above the star
A. Virginis ("The Stars in their Seasons," map v.) by those who care
t'l sit up, or get up, to observe him. The visible phenomena of his
satelliti-s occurring before 1 a.m. are necessarilj' few. Such of them,
as (presupposing clear weather) may be certainly seen, are as
follow : On the 5th, the ingress of the shadow of satellite I. on to
the planet's disc will happen at 12h. 9m. P.M. On the 6th, the same
satellite will reappear from occultation at 12h. 38m. P.M. On the
11th, the shadow of satellite II. will pass off at llh. 3im. P.M. On
the 13th, s.itcllite I. will disappear in eclipse at llh. 25m. Is. p.m.
On the 14th, the egress of the shadow of satellite I. will occur at
lOh 44m. P.M., followed at llh. 32m. P.M. by that of the satellite
casting it. Satellite III., which is also on Jupiter's face, will leave
his limb at llh. 38m. This phenomenon, for the reason so often
given in this column, should be carefully watched. On the 18th,
the ingress of the shadow of satellite II. will happen at
llh. 2Sm. P.M. On the 21st, the shadow of satellite I. will enter
on to Jupiter's limb at lOh. 25m. P.M. At lOh. 38m. P.M. the
shadow of satellite III. will follow it. At llh. "m. P.M.
satellite I. itself wdl commence its transit across the planet. At
12h. 3Tni. the shadow of satellite I. will leave his opposite limb,
as will the shadow of satellite III. six minutes later. On the
22nd, satellite I. will reappear from occultation at lOh. 36m.
P.M. On the 27th, satellite II. will reappear from occultation at
llh 58m. P.M. On the 28th, the ingress of the shadow of satellite
I. begins at 12h. 18m., as does that of the satellite casting it at
12h 52m. P.M. On the 29th, .satellite I. will disappear in eclipse at
9h. 40m. 12s. P.M., to reappear from occultation 21 minutes after
midnight. Lastly, satellite I. will pass off Jupiter's disc at Oh. 29m.
P.M. on the 30th. Saturn is visible during the whole of the
amateur's ordinary night, but is best seen about 8 P.M. or so. He
will be found somewhat to the west and a little to the north of
8 Geminorum ("The Stars in their Seasons," map ii.). He is, as
always, a superb object in any telescope from 2^ inches in aperture
upwards. Uranus is now coming into a better position for the
observer, and (notably towards the end of the month) may now be
very fairly seen by midnight or even sooner. He may be iiicked up
to the SSE. of 7 'Virginis, and identified by his pale-blue disc.
Neptune is rapidly getting lost in the twilight. The Moon enters
her first quarter at lb. TSm. on the 3rd, is full at 8h. 33-9m. P M.
on the 9th, enters her last quarter at Ih. 42'lm. P.M. on the 16th,
and is new at 4h. 9-7m. in the afternoon of the 24th. Nine
ocoultations of fixed stars occur during the present month
at convenient hours. The first happens on March 2, when
Aldebaran will disappear at the Moon's dark limb at 5h. 47m.
P.M., at an angle of 182° from her vertex, reapjiearing at 6h. 4m.
P.M. at her bright limb at a vertical angle of 210°. On the
.5th, a 6th magnitude star, / Geminorum, will disappear at the
dark limb 41 minutes after midnight, at a vertical angle of 43°. It
will emerge from behind the Moon after she has set. On the Sth,
45 Leonis, a 6th magnitude star, will disappear at the dark limb at
6h. 24m. P.M. at an angle from the Moon's vertex of 68°. It will
reappear at her bright limb at 7h. 14m. P.M. at an angle of ISS'^
from her vertex. Later on in the same night, p Leonis, of the 4th
magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb at a vertical angle of
61' at 8h. 50m. P.M., toreappear at the bright limb at 9h. o4m. P.M.
at an angle of 211° from the vertex. On the 27th, ij. Ceti, also a

:\[arci[ 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

star of the 4th magnitude, will disappear at the Mooq's dark limb
at Gh. 42™. I'.M. at an angle from her vertex of 108°, and will re-
appear at her bright limb at 7li. ilom. P.M. at an angle of 359° from
her vertex. On the 29th. fl' Tauri, of the 4ith magnitude, will dis-
appear at the dark limb at 9h. 17m. P.M. at a vertical angle of 117°,
reappearing at the bright litubat lOh. 13m. p.m. at an angle of 33.")°
from the Moon's vertex. At 9h. 2lim. P.M., fl- Tauri, another 4ith
magnitude star, will disappear at the dark limb at an angle of 91°
from the Moon's vcrte.x. Its reappearance at the bright limb will
occur live minutes sooner than that of 8', which was occulted
before it. It will happen at an angle of 0°, or at the Moon's
vertex. On the 29th, li. A. C. 1391, a star of the 5th magnitude will
disappearat the dark limb at lOh. Kim. P.M. at a vertical angle of 159°,
its reappearance at llh. 7m. P.M. at the bright limb of the Moon
occurring at a vertical angle of 288°. Lastlj', on the 30th, 1 15 Tauri,
a (ith magnitude star, will be occulted by the Moon's dark limb at
9 minutes after midnight, at an angle of 173° from her vertex, but
she will have set ere it reappears. At noon to-day the Moon is in
'Taurus, through which constellation she is travelling until 3h. A.M.
on the 4th, when she arrives at tlie western edge of the narrow
northern prolongat ion of Orion (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.).
It takes her 12 hours to cross this, and at 3 o'clock in the afternoon
of the same day she emerges in Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxiv.). Her passage across Gemini occupies her until 7h. A.M.
on the Cth, when slic quits it for Cancer, fihe remains in Cancer
until .5h. 3()m. P.M. on the 7tli, when she enters Leo. Her journey
through Leo is completed by 2h. A.M. on the lOth, at which hour
she cros.'es into Virgo (" The Seasons Pictured,'' plate xxv.). She
quits Virgo in turn for Libra at 9h. P.M. on the 12th ("The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxvi.). In the course of her passage over Libra,
she arrives at 4h. P.M. on the 14th on the confines of the narrow
northern strip of Scorpio ; and when 9 hours later she has traversed
this, it is to pass out at its eastern edge into OphiucLus. She quits
Ophiuchus and enters Sagittarius at oh. P.M. on the ICth, and
Sagittarius in turn for Capricornus at (Jh. A.M. on the 19lh ("The
Seasons Pictured,' plate xxi.). At 4h. P.M. on the 20th she passes
into Aquarius. Here she remains until 3h. P.M. on the 23rd, when
she enters Pisces ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii ). She is
travelling through Pisces until 6h. 30m. P.M. on the 26th, at which
hour she arrives at the northern outlier of Cetus. Before noon the
next day she has passed out of this into Aries. At 2h. P.M. on
the 2Sth she leaves Aries for Taurus (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxiii.), and at lOh. A.M. on the 31st arrives, asat the heginning
of the month, on tlie western boundary of the northern prolonga-
tion of Orion. She remains in this for about 12 hours and a half,
and then lenves it for Gemini ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.).
She is, of course, in Gemini at midnight on the 31st.

d^iir WBWt Column.

Bv "Five of Clubs."

M.VTHEWS ON -^VHIST.
{Continued from page 71.)
r is better to lead from a suit headed by Ace, nine,
than from one headed by Ace, ten ; since in the
latter case you are more likely to have a tenace if the
suit is led by the adversary. [Modern whist would
hardly countenance a choice in leading determined by
such a consideration as this.]

Many good players, in leading from tierce major,
begin with the King and Queen. [It is now tlie cus-
tomary rule to do so.] This is often productive of mischief ; as
wlien [King is] played at other times from King and Queen only
[that is. King and Queen with small ones, but without the Ace], the
Ace may be kept up ; and while each thinks his partner has it and
has played accordingly, it unexpectedly appears from the adversary
and disappoints their whole plan. [The reasoning here seems un-
worthy of so skilful a player as Mathews.] If a player leads King
from tierce major, he follows immediately with Queen, unless he
betakes himself to trumps, fearing a ruff. Now, on the other hand,
if having led King from King, Queen, and another, he is in doubt
whether the Ace lies with his partner or not, he may change suit.
But it is only when he has led from King, Queen, without the Ace,
that he would change to another plain suit. Doubt then can scarcely
ever arise. Moreover, if in doubt whether partner holds the Ace or not
(and it is seldom good play for cither adversary to hold the Ace if he
has it, though some of the over-clever often do it), it is best to go on
with the suit, leading a small one, since the chances are in favour of
bringing out the Ace this second round. In any case, the lead of
King followed by Queen indicates unmistakably that you hold the
Ace also.

From King, Queen, Knave, as from all high tierces, the highest is
led, except that with two small ones or more the Knave should be
led [to draw the Ace from your partner if he has it.]

From King, Queen, ten, in all suits lead the King; but if it
passes do not pursue the lead, ascertain the Ace is in your partner's
hanil ; for it may be kept np : but change your lead, and wait for
the return of your partner — when you have the tinesse of the ten if
necessary.

This is no longer considered good Whist. It is nearly always
better to go on with a small card than to change suit. All good
players put the Ace on the King, led by an adversary, in nine cases
at least out of ten. The chances are so great if your King is passed
that either your partner holds the Ace or that you can do no harm
by going on with tlie suit, that it is contrary to sound Whist policy
to incur the almost certain mischief arising from a change of suit,
on account of the minute chance that going on may do harm.

From King, Queen, four others, or fewer, lead the King always in
plain suits, unless you hold the t.vo last tramps, when you may
[safely] play a small one. [It is not easy to see what you gain by
so doing, whether the Ace lies with the enemy or with your partner.
For with the two low trumps you are sure to get the lead as soon
as you need it.] In trumps, lead the lowest \generalli/~\. With
King, Queen, and five others, the King should be led in all suits.

From King, Knave, ten, &c., in all sui's, lead the ten. From
King, Knave, and two or more small ones, lead the lowest.

[From King, Knave, and one small one, lead only if it is clearly
your partner's suit, in which case lead King, and if it passes con-
tinue with Knave.]

[From Queen, Knave, ten, kc, lead the highest, in all suits.]
From Queen, Knave, nine, and others, lead the Queen. [This is no
longer approved, except sometimes late in the hand, when it is seen
that the game can only be made or saved by the successful finesse
of the nine.] From t^uecn. Knave, with two more, lead the lowest.
From Queen, Knave, one other, lead the Queen. From Queen, ten,
two others the lowest; [if with one other, do not open the suit
unless sure it is your partner's, in which case lead Queen, and if it
makes follow with ten.] With Queen and three small ones, lead the
lowest. From Queen, with only two, lead [if at all] the Queen [but
to do this you should have reason to think that it is your jiartner's
suit.]

[BVom Knave, ten, nine, &o., lead Knave; from Knave, ten, and
small ones, lead the lowest ; but with only one small one the Knave.
From Knave, three or more small ones lead the lowest; but with
only two small ones besides the Knave, lead [if at all] the Knave.]

[Ten may be led from ten, nine, eight, and two or more small
ones, but it is not a satisfactory opening, and seems only justified by
a good chance of establishing and bringing in the suit. From ten,
nine, and a small one, or ten, two sma 1 ones, lead ten.] In general,
the lead of a ten indicates either a sequence to the King, King,
Knave, ten, and another, or that the ten is the best of a weak suit.

Nine is never led by good players from a head sequence of three
[though if there is great length in the suit, and trump strength, the
lead may be justified]. In general, the lead of a nine indicates
either —

1. A sequence up to the King.

2. King, Knave, ten, nine, with or without others not in sequence
with- the nine.

3. A weak suit, not more than three in number, tlie nine being
the best.

If, when ten or nine is led by your partner, you hold either King
or Knave in your own hand, you are certain the lead is from weakness,
and that the" whole strength of the suit [outs de your own hand] is
with the adversary, and play accordingly. [The inference is equally
obvious if the lead of ten or nine is from either adversary, and you
hold either King or Knave.]

To lead from only three cards, unless in sequence, is bad play, and
only proper when you have reason to think it is your partner's suit,
in which case play off the highest, even if the King or Queen.

[With Ace or King, or Queen or Knave, and one other, if you
lead, which you will only do when you have reason to think the suit
is your partner's, invariably lead the highest, except, of course,
ton-ards the close of a hand when you may have obtained such know-
ledge of the position of the cards that plain strategic reasons, as
clearly recognised as in Double Dummy, show that the small one
should be led. Such exceptions as these, however, are not con-
sidered in discussing general rules for leading.]

It is highly necessary to be correct in leads. When a good player
leads an eight and then a seven, I know he leads from a weak suit ;
the contrary when he plays the seven first. It is the same even with
a tray and a deuce. This is what bad players always err in, as they
never can see the difference. [Of course these considerations do
not apply in the same exact sense to modem play, though the
necessity of correctness on the part of the leader and attention on

120

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[March 1, 1887

the part o£ partner, as well as attention to the play of the adver-
saries also, remains, or is even increased. The lead of an eight,
now, followed by a seven, would mean that the leader hart originally
live cards of the suit. Unless, indeed, a player boldly rejects the
penultimate lead and its "fourth best" devel jiment, and stands on
the ancient ways. For any good the penultimate and fourth best
leads do ordinary players, these conventions are but a poor set-otf
for the loss of the valuable old method for distinguishing between
weak leads and strong leads.]

{To be contimied.')

0\\\: CI)t£Je! Column.

Bt " Mephisto."

EN'D-GAMES FEOM ACTUAL PLAY.
Black.

:-^.^« rti

Whits.
J. GCNSBERG.

White won the game in the following manner :

19. P to Q6 13. V, to Esq.
•JO. B to K3 1^0. P to QKt4

With the iU-a of checking with Q to Kt:i, to make room tor the
Kirg.

21. R to Ksq. 21. P to K.-..
It would have been better to play Q to Kt:! (cli) first.
not see the impending disaster.

22. R X P (ch) :

23. B X P (ch) :

24. Q to Q5 (ch)

25. Q to K6 (ch)

20. Q to KlG (ch)
27. r X B (ch), and wins.

Black did

22. Kt X R

23. K X B

24. K to Ksq.

25. B to K2
2G. K to Bsq.

BL.4CK.

wm^i'ff

t ^ '^ I i i

lA? mi ifM- 2 ±^±

WUITE.

S. TISSLEY.

White proceeded in this elegant style :

20. R y B I

If Black retakes this Rook he loses his Queen.

20. P to E3

21. BxKt ! 21. Ktto Q2i

22. R to KtS : and White won.
Awfully good.

J. GXJXSDEKG.
Black.

A very singular ending, in which Black continued with —

20. B to RG
Promises to become a paying investment.

Bold.

21. QxP

22. R to Kt" !

23. KtxP

24. Kt to B4

Black might have won tlie

21. PxB

22. R to KKtsq

23. B to Kt3

24. Q to K3
Every move is of great interest,
white Queen by Kt to B7 (ch), but evidently he prefers to play for
a mate.

25. QKt to Bsq 2.5. Castles

26. R to Qsq 26. R to Ktsq I
This whole ending forms a useful study.

27. R to Q2 27. R(Ktsq) x B

28. QRxR 28. RxR

29. P to Kt4

White has no move, as none of his pieces can play.

29. B to K2 I
Comes round at his own sweet will.

30. P X P 80. B to R5

31. P to R4 31. B to Kt6
Resigns.

PROBLEM BY MPi. PROCTOR (p. 95, Februar)-)-

POSITIOS.

White K on KB8. B's on K5 and QKtS. Id's on Q5 and QR7.
P's en Q3, QG, QP.2, QR5 (9 pieces).

Black K on QB4. Ps on KKt5, Q2, Q5, QBG, QKt4, QR3
(7 pieces), 3 moves.

Solution.

1. B to Kt3 1. P to Kt.5

2. Kt to H4 2. K X P

3. Kt to KG mate.

Contents of No. 16.

TAOE

TeDnyson's Jubilee JeremKiil 73

The Story of Creation : a PNiu Ac-
count of Evolution. By Edwaid

Cloid "4

Photographs of Donble Stars and

Star Clusters By MM. Henry . . 7G

Minute Measurement 78

The Naturalist's Laboratory SO

Tne Whisc Superstition Dispelled,

By " Fiveof Cluus" 81

Concise Expre'sion in Science. By

W. Cave Thomas S!

Our Puzzles 83

Solution of Last Month's Puzzles . , 83

PAGE

Past an. 1 Present Volcano's 84

Tne Southern Skies. Bv Richard A.

Proctor M

One-Scale Atlas 81

The Fifteen SchoolcrirU' Puzzle.... 88
Astronomy at our Editor's American

Home 88

Gossip By Richard A. Pioctor .. ill

Reviews !*"2

The Face of the Sty for rexruarv. . 94
Our Chess Coltmin. By "Me-

phisl^ " 95

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

aubs" 96

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge " as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To the East Indies, China, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, So. 1* 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, "[Tnited Statea,
and Kpypt, the Subscription is 78. 6d.. as heretofore

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

121

^ ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE ^ '
ENCEHTERATURE,& ARf

LONDON: APRIL 1, 1887.

THE COMPLEXITY OF THINGS.

By Grant Allex.

«y»y|gyjf»]|XE of the feelings wbich most grows upon tlie
trff^rr-^'j^ scientific observer, as his knowledge of the
vroild in which his life is cast gradually
increases, is a profound and abiding sense of
the infinite interaction of cause and eflect,
the immense and immeasurable complexity
of things in this universe. Glib ignorance
is always ready with an easy explanation or a hasty pro-
phecy ; mature experience distrusts more and more from day
to day its own power of prognostication, or even of analysis.
Look, for example, at the readiness with which the local
weather prophet will confidently assert that we are going to
have a hard winter or a late spring. Upon what endless
interrelations of causes and events, all the world over, does
the weather of an English season depend 1 What know-
ledge of the ice packs in the Arctic regions, of the bergs
that float and melt in the Atlantic currents, of the depth of
snow on the Siberian plains, of the strength and direction of
the Gulf Stream and its divergent branches, of the pre-
valent conditions in Sahara, Spain, and the Mediterranean,
is necessary in order adequately to forecast the British
weather for the next twenty-four hours ! An east wind,
blowing over the frozen plains of Central Europe, brings us
frost and ice and sunshine today ; a westerly breeze, fresh
from the warmer currents of the Gulf, brings us cloud and
rain and thaw to-morrow. Our fruit-trees have their
blossoms nipped in the flowering season, beaiuse great
blocks of glacier have disengaged themselves prematurely
from the melting cliffs of the Greenland ice-sheet ; our
strawberries ripen in good time because a change in the
distribution of atmospheric pressure causes a downward
current of heated air to set in towards Britain from the
African desert. Why is the west wind so unwontedly
bitter to day 1 Because there are ice-floes off the coast of
Labrador. Why does the fog hang heavy over London this
morning? Because a certain motionless state of air prevails
over Western Europe, from Hammerfest to Lisbon. Why
did our pears fail to set their fruit 1 Because of the early
spring in Xorth-Eastern America. Why did our roses get
nipped by the frost? Because of the clear weather over the
Hindu Koosh and the valley of the Lena. Mr. Robert
Scott, enthroned in the Meteorologi&il Office in London,
with constant telegrams informing him from moment to
moment of every fluctuation in barometric i-eadings at
Valentia or Bayonne, every rise of temperature in the
Bay of Biscay or the North of Scotland, every shower
of rain off the Norwegian Islands, every passing thunder-
storm in Auvergne or Dalecarlia, can scarcely prognosticate
the coming weather for twenty-four hours in advance with
any approach to probability. Yet the local weather prophet.

unabashed by his utter ignorance of the conditions of the
entire problem, will predict the weather of a whole season
as confidently as though he held all the threads in his
own hands, and directed the winds and waves irresponsibly
from an easy-chau- in his own drawing-room.

What would be the effect upon the climate of Western
Europe if we wei'e to turn Sahara into an inland sea ?
What would be the result upon the world's weather if
we were to cut a large outlet for the heated waters of
the Caribbean Sea through the Isthmus of Panama 1 Most
people are prepared at a moment's notice to dogmatise
freely as to what would happen in ■either of these extreme
and improbable eases. They will say offhand that the
flooding of Sahara would improve the climate of Xorth
Africa generally, and that the diversion of the Gulf Stream
would reduce Scandinavia and Britain to the respective
conditions of Greenland and Manitoba. But how infinitely
complex is each such problem ! Who shall say what changes
might be induced, when Sahai-a was flooded, by the altera-
tion in the hot, dry winds which now blow oft' the wide
expanse of desert ] What melting- effects do they ultimately
produce upon the ice and snow of the Spanish Sierras, the
Pyrenees, the Alps, and the Carpathians? What extra
growth of glaciers would descend, in their absence, upon
the plains and valleys of Castile, of Languedoc, of Switzer-
land, and of Lombardy ? What varieties would these,
again, induce in the Fiihn, in the Bora, in the Mistral,
in the Tramoutana ? Every variation in the amount of
moisture due to evaporation will give rise to changes in
rainfall, in snow, in ice, in glaciers; wUl produce new
phenomena of denudation, of river forming, of earth
sculpture, of local climate ; and will therefore react at
last ujion vegetation, upon fauna, upon agriculture, and
upon human life and industry in general. More seas
in Africa might mean more rain and snow and ice on
Atlas ; more cooling of the air in Southern Europe as
a whole ; more accumulation of glaciers over all the
mountain ranges of our peninsular area; Ln short, a
complete upsetting of the climatic balance in this
quarter of the world as we actually know it. But I
do not say it would neces.sarily do so. I do not wish to
dogmatise. On the contrary, I believe the complexity of
these problems surpasses existing human powers of com-
bination. It is impossible to keep all the factors of so vast
a sum always before one's mind in the act of computation.
AVhen one reads speculations like Dr. Croll's or Mr. Alfred
Eussel Wallace's the mind is carried away for the moment
by their sustained reasoning: it seems all as clear as day;
the glacial epoch was doubtless due to the earth's eccen-
tricity, and if we could once melt off the Polar ice-cap, sub-
tropical vegetation might once more spread to the frozen
shores of Spitzbergen and Alaska. But when we come, on
the other hand, to read such a book as Professor Mohn's
" Meteorologie " we feel as though the problems of our ex-
isting climate even were far too complex for human solution.

Let me give a single instance in illustration of the diffi-
culty of predicting the effect upon climate or earth-sculpture
of local changes. In a small town in the AVest of England
the cliffs were being rapidly washed away by the sea.
Groynes were erected along the beach, but where they ter-
minated the current formed a scour, and, e;iting away the
cliff worse than ever at the end, began to attack the town
by a flank movement. So an eminent engineer was called
in to advise the Corporation as to the erection of a break-
water. The eminent engineer, after duly inspecting the bay
and cliffs, reported that to erect a breakwater on ledges of
rock in the neighbourhood would be comparatively e;isy, but
when erected it might produce either of two effects with
equal probability. It might protect the menaced clifl's, or it

122

KNOW^LEDGE

[April 1, 1887.

might set up special eddies which would wash away the
town foster than ever. The Corporation, thus advised,
dropped the breakwater, and preferred to leave themselves
in the hands of Nature. Indeed, on an open line of coast,
exposed to varying winds and diverse currents, it is almost
impossible to say beforehand what will be the effect vinder
all circumstances of any given change of contour in project-
ing portions.

Look for a moment at another case familiar to everybody
who owns a garden. How infinite are the diversities of
soil and climate and situ.ation within a single little patch of
a quarter of an acre I 'Here, the snow lies long ; there, the
radiation from a wall melts it rapidly; yondei', again, the
drifting due to eddies caused by the neighbouring palings
ridges it up into a low mound, which resists for man}' days
together the melting effects of the sun and of the warm
westerly Ijreezes. liound this corner here the wind whistles
so fieixely that not even spruce firs will thrive and flourish ;
on the opposite side the house gives shelter from the cold
east winds, and sub-tropical annuals — like the castor-oil
plant — will grow vigorously from seed in a sunny exposure.
At one point the dripping from the roof waterlogs the
grass; at another, too rapid drainage through the sandstone
soil allows it to dry up and wither, unless constantly
moistened by the garden hose. The shade of the Portugal
laurels interferes with the free development of the scarlet
anemones ; the hyacinths, at this end of the bed, are later
by a week than their sisters at that end, because the .shadow
of a tall poplar wheels over them for three hours daily,
intercepting their due share of the morning sun. One's own
little garden, in l^xct, is a petty epitome of all the facts of
climate in the world, too complex for the most diligent
observer and reasoner ever fully to comprehend its minute
diversities. The mound of snow where the children made
the snow-man, which lasted unmelted after a fortnight's
thaw, represents in miniature the Alps and the Himalayas,
or the obstinate Polar ice-cap itself. There are windy
corners and sheltered nooks, inexplicable patches where the
grass will never grow on the lawn, spots where the wall-
flowers blossom in February, and spots where they linger till
late in June. When I look at the endless complexity of the
square mile that lies around my own house, at the diversity
of flora on the two sides of the road that runs through
Milton Heath, at the differences caused by the northern and
southern aspect of the round barrow on the hilltop, at the
climatic varieties of chalk and greensand and weald clay,
with their accompanying peculiarities of fauna and flora, I
am appalled at the temerity of men who will dogmatise
freely about the causes of mild arctic climates, or the effects
of drying up the Atlantic Ocean. Why, a complete account
of the causes which lead to the climate of a single house from
day to day would baffle the wisest meteorologist in Europe.
The thermometer just now in this very room stood at 56°
beside the bookcase when it was Gl° on the centre table.
A removal to a position two feet higher on the sideboard
sent it up a couple of degrees. Put your finger to the key-
hole when the door is shut, and feel the cool air rushing in,
in a jet, like water through the cracks in a floodgate, and
you can faintly realise the turmoil and commotion of the
atmosphere of the place in which you are now sitting. If
you could see it coloured, so as to make the movements
visible, you would find it a theatre of endless eddies and
currents, of actions and reactions marvellous and innumer-
able— hciited air flowing up the chimney; cold air to replace
it rushing in at the cracks of the doors and windows;
carbonic acid from your breath falling to the floor ; aqueous
vapour floating idly about in little dispersed clouds and
flocculi ; heated gases ascending to the ceiling ; everywhere
whirls and curls and rigmaroles, dancing and eddying in a

perpetual vortex. Our human habit is to reduce every
problem too much to naked simplicity. The concrete world
in which we live consists, on the contrary, of infinitely
complex interactions of cause and effect, which it is well-
nigh impossiljle for us adequately to disentangle one from
the other.

PRIZE COMPETITIONS.

By Richard A. Proctor.

KNOW no more amusing development of
modern journalism than the system of Prize
Competitions, by which the time-wasting idiots
who formerly struggled for fame by solving the
imbecilities called acrostics are now invited to
decide who are the greatest statesmen, poets,
philosophers, painters, of such and such nations
or times, and which the greatest of their works. (I have
called the acrostic-solvers wasters of time ; but on second
thoughts I withdraw the remark : llieir time could hardly
be wasted.) Of course we know beforehand that, in
struggling for the prizes in the more recent competitions,
these folk carefully avoid any attempt to judge for them-
selves. What they try to do is to guess who are likely
to be generally selected as greatest in the several departments
dealt with, and by choosing those to secure the best chance
of the prizes doled out to them by the proprietors of papers
employing this clever dodge for checking loss of circulation.
Still, although for this reason the system is not really so
outrageously absurd as it seems to be on the face of it, yet
even the appearance of weighing the opinions of those who
necessarily have no judgment is an absurdity which cannot
but degrade journali.sm.

Imagine, for example, a score of the foolish folk who had
been successful in solving acrostics according to their
" lights " (the acrostics' lights, I mean) attempting to decide,
from their own knowledge, on the twelve greatest poems in
the English language 1 Even the average opinion of the
community would decide wrong on such a subject as this ; and
these strange beings must be altogether below the average,
or they would never be found among the acrostic-solvers.
We know that to untrained minds, which is the same as
saying to the majority, a Tupper or a Robert Montgomery
seems a greater poet than a Shakespeare or a Milton — until
some one shows them the absurdity of what they have mis-
taken for sublimity. We only have to note what such
minds turn to naturally, and would continue to admire, were
they not corrected, to see that this is the case — though,
indeed, it is simply what might be expected. Con-
sider the sale which Tupper's " Proverbial Philosophy "
obtained during about a quarter of a century, despite its
utterly prosaic and commonplace character I Or recall the
way in which the bulk of the community accepted the
ruined plagiarisms and ungrammatical idiocies of Robert
Montgomery as poetry, equalling, if not surpassing, Milton's
best ! Even INlacaulay's crushing criticism in the Edinhurgh
lieview did not kill Robert Jlontgomery at once. (" Breaking
a butterfly on the wheel," some called Macaulay's criticism ;
but cru.shing a cockroach would be nearer the mark.) I
remember well how his pretentious absurdities were selected
for reading by enthusiastic admirers as late as a score of
years after Macaulay's review should have taught even the
silliest of Montgomery's admirers what tawdry tinsellings
they had mistaken for real poetry.

Imagine folk compared with whom the admirers of Tupper
and Montgomery were excellent judges invited to jnonounce
on the merits of Chaucer and Spenser, Shake.speare and Milton,
Dryden and Pope, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Scott, Byron,

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

123

Browning, and Tennyson 1 Conceive sucli self-convicted
imbeciles as the acrostic-solvers pi-etending to decide between
Scott and Thackeray, George EHot and Georges Sand,
Charles Reade, Bulwer Lytton, and Dickens. If they
spoke their real minds we know they would pronounce for
Ouida, or for the novelists of the Family Herald and the
London Journal. Ask some draper's assistant or grocer's
lad, whose real taste is for tales of highwaymen, what he
thinks of Christie Murray's "Aunt Eachel"as compared
with '• Eedhand the Eover " ; ask 'Arrv or 'Arriet whether
a study of street life by Murillo or a brilliant chromo of
'•Lancer and Yivandiere" is most to be admired. You
would certainly get a reply saying little in favour of Mur-
ray's charming idyll or Murillo's masterpiece oi genri'. But
such a decision would be wisdom itself compared with the
real opinion of acrostic-solvers, if only they would give it on
questions of philosophy or statesmanship, poetry or fiction,
art or music, science or religion.

It is worthy of remark, not to notice further the self-
proclaimed imbecility of acrostic-solvers et id genus omn- .
that the opinions of majorities on all questions of difficulty
are almost certain to be wrong, if really independent — nay,
absolutely certain to be wrong. Such opinions never are
independent, so that it can do no harm to indicate the cer-
tainty of the wrong decision of most men when really judg-
ing for themselves. The world at large accepts its great
men (generally after death) on trust, and adopts their ideiis
on the a.ssumption that they are probably right. If we had
to wait till the majority independently adopted coiTect ideas
we should have to wait long enough. In science we should
still regard the earth as flat and the moon as ruling the
weather ; the elements as four only ; the sun, moon, and
stars as meant chiefly for signs, and comets for portents. In
politics and religion I know not what follies men would
believe in, other than those at present in vogue ; for men
do not accept political and i-eligious ideas on trust from the
wiser, but form their own opinions, and so illustrate my
thesis more eflectively than satisfactorily. In poetry and
fiction, in music and in painting, the prevalent idea.s would
be semi-savage indeed did not the majority take their
opinions chiefly from those who know.

Putting the matter as one of probabilities, we see that it
cannot be otherwise. Let a hundred average members of
even the most cultured community give their independent
opinions on some question of difficulty — not of such extreme
difficulty as, for example, the nature of Deity, or a future
life, but of moderate difficulty, as the principle of hereditaiy
legislation, the value of colonies and conquered countries, or
the like. The chance that any one of the hundred gives a
just opinion, independently, on such a question is much
exaggerated when it is set as one in ten (one in a million
would be an exaggerated estimate for the extremely difficult
questions first mentioned). Assuming, however, even so
unlikely a chance of a right opinion as this, what chance
would there be that a majority of the hundred would decide
rightly ? The same chance that there would be of drawing
more than fifty white balls at random from a hundred vases,
each containing ten balls, one only of which is white — one
drawing only being made from each vase. Calculating this
chance, we find the odds against the majority deciding
rightly (unless trusting in the judgment of their best
teachers) to be millions of millions of millions to one.

The value of the much- vaunted argument from common
consent can thus be imagined. L^nless a question is one so
simple that every one is almost sure to judge rightly, com-
mon consent, if it means anything at all, means the practical
certainty of common eri'or. Fortunately, it means generally
nothing more than the common agreement of most men to
accept the opinion which they suppose to be approved by

the wiser sort. Yet, even as thus modified, or practically
nullified, the opinion of the majority will be wrong ninety
and nine times before, on the hundredth trial, it gets right
by force of sheer compulsion — and hitherto in the world's
history common consent has never reached the truth in any
matter of difficulty.

THE JUNIORITY OF BEASTS:

FURTHER REMARKS ON THIS AND KINDRED OF THE
CONTENTIOXS OF MR. GLADSTONE.

Br Oswald Dawsox.

MUST thank Mr. Edward Clodd for his kindly
mention of my previous note on this subject.
.l/7?r forwarding it* to Knowledge I read the
footnote to which he refers, running thus :
" The discovery of the lowest mammalian
forms in earlier strata than those containing
birds seems opposed to the accepted order of
succession, but there is considerable uncertainty as to the
exact period of the first appearance of birds." Hereupon
Mr. Clodd founds an agreement with me. Having to
thank Mr. Clodd for a series of really entertaining articles
on " The Story of Creation," it would indeed be ungracious
to find fault if a well-intentioned footnote of three lines
happen to be ill- expressed. Excu.se for renewing the sub-
ject is to be sought in the circumstance that Mr. Gladstone
has contributed to the current issue of the Nineteenth
Century (August) a brief reply -i- to Professor Huxley's
valedictory surrejoinder.

The succession of organic groups was the chief topic of
discussion between these gentlemen, and as the issue of this
" tournament, which, whether one regards the dignity of the
combatants or the gi-avity and delicacy of the cause, it is
not possible to await without the keenest interest," has not
anywhere been concisely stated, an article, in some measure
a resume, may be acceptable.

T/ie Juniority of Animals as against Plants. — According
to Genesis, plants were formed a day before the dawn of
animal life ; if, as according to ilr. Gladstone, the creation
of what are translated whales did really hei-ald that dawn.
If cetaceans were in question there would be no discrepancy,
as whales probably do not ante-date tertiary times ; j but
when we read " fishes " in lieu of " whales," as Mr. Glad-
stone bids us, the evidence from fossils compels us to regard
it as very far from a " demonstrated conclusion and established
fact " that these animals were created subsequently to the
evolution of the higher flora, inasmuch as indubitable remains
of fishes of a high order § are found in upper silurian rocks —

* Before March 26. On that date I sent a note requesting the
deletion of the words "authority, or at any rate author," as applied
to the late Professor Oscar Schmidt. The editor was perhaps on the
Continent at this date.

t In the shape of a letter affirming Professor James D. Dana's
agreement with Mr. Gladstone on essential points. In the treatise
under discussion {Jlaiiual of Oeologij, p. 847) Professor Dana em-
phasises by italics the two following axioms : " This document, if
true, is of divine origin." " If divine, the account must bear marks
of human imperfection, since it was communicated through man."
The former view is answered in the Westminster Itetien (January
1S86). The latter— applicable, perhaps, when adapted by spiritual-
ists to account for any hybrid character conspicuous in trance-
orations — is not self-e\"ident in the case of divine writings.

{ The occurrence of Pahrocetui: Setlgniciii in strata of Jurassic
age (r. Seeley, Gcol. Mag., Feb. '65) is accountable otherwise than
by assuming" that tlie creature lived at that date (c. Owen, £nY.
Foss. JIfam. and liirds, pp. xv. and 520, and Pal. p. 321).

§ The Ganoidei. In Onchiis and the " Conodonts" it may te we
have representatives of two other orders.

124

KNOW^LEDGE *

[April 1, 1887.

a fact involving a high antiquity for the class. So that even
were the high claims of certain palieozoic plants established,
their seniority as against fishes would not be demonstrated,
nor yet rendered probable.

The. Juniority of Fishes as against Birds. — This is, of course,
a scientific fact. Genesis, however, does not expressly teach
it. Both classes were created on the fifth day. " One is
necessarily mentioned before the other." ( West. Rev. as
above.)

The Juniorit)/ o/Eeptiles as against Beasts. — This juniority
is probable. Professor Huxley never asserted it, as Mr.
Gladstone supposes. Nor does Genesis assert so. It seems
rather to teach then- contemporary origin on the sixth day.
Had Mr. Gladstone contended for this, however, or for their
origin before beasts during an earlier part of the sixth day,
the prior existence of birds on the fifth day would have had
to be explained away. The reptiles, however, are submitted
to this process instead ; in a manner, too, which it has been
.said would have excited the envy of Artemus Ward.
" Eeptiles were a family fallen from greatness ; instead of
stamjjing on a great period of life its leading character, they
merely skulked upon the earth." Mr. Gladstone " would
also hold by his previous remark " as to mistranslation aiid
" the general structure and efleot of the Mosaic statement,"
advancing illustrations; these being — (1) that the LXX.
represent reptiles " as a sort of appendage to mammals " in a
more conspicuous manner than do our versions ; {'2) '■ in the
Song of the Three Children, where the four principal orders
are recited after the series in Genesis, reptiles are dropped
altogether, which suggests either that the present text is
unsound, or, perhaps more probably, that they were deemed
a secondary and insignificant part of it.

Professor Huxley replies thus : " I have every respect
for the singer of the Song of the Three Children
(whoever he may have been) . . . nor do I venture
to doubt that the inconvenient intrusion of these con-
temptible reptiles . . . into an apologetic argument,
which otherwise would run quite smoothly [!], is in every
way to be deprecated. Still the wretched creatures stand
thei-e, importunately demanding notice." Unless Mr. Glad-
stone insists that the text being unsound, the terms
" creeping thing " and " everything that creepeth upon the
earth " mean other than reptiles, or ought to be dropped
altogether, the justice of Professor Huxley's demand must be
admitted. As to the other argument, the skulking in a day
or two late of a class which did stamp upon the mesozoic age
its leading character — and one member of which played an
important role in the event which immediately succeeds the
creation, to say nothing of later occasions, or of the notices
taken of other members of the class — was certainly no fault
of its own, and it is difficult to imagine what of poetry, or of
intelligibility, or of brevity, or of aught else, would have
been sacrificed had fowl been formed on the sixth day, and
creeping things on the iifth, instead of vice versd. According
to some authorities, however, the reptilian class u-as repre-
sented before the sixth day.*

* "TcNINcM: Dr. Lightfoot reads this as 'Amphibia,' and
makes it include ' crocodiles, hippopotamets,' &c. . . . Park-
hurst says the words seem to include both ' the crocodile and
whale species.' Bishop Patrick holds the same view. The word
translated ' great whales' in verse 21 is the plural oi: the same
word which becomes 'a serpent' in E.xodus vii. 9." — Genesis, its
Antharsltip and Authenticity, by Charles Bradlaugh, third edition,
1882, p. 69, "International Library of Science and Freethought."
" Timninim, that is, crocodiles." — Principal Sir J. \V. Dawson,
Hxjwsitor, April 1886. " Remes, 'creeping things' . . . may here
betaken to represent the smaller quadrupeds of the land." — Dawson,
Idem, or "prowling" things. — Dana, Op. cit. Dr. Fr. H. Reusch,
whom Mr. Gladstone modestly recommended to M. Albert Eevilleas
a fitter representative of the reconciliation schools than himself, is
antagonistic to Mr. Gladstone's reconciliation theories, at any rate,

The Juniority of Beasts as against Birds. — Mr. Gladstone
made a remark indicating his suspicion lest some one should
score a point against him by " taking only birds of a very
high formation," and not reckoning with Archa^opteryx,
Hesperornis, &c., as ISIr. Gladstone himself did — a method
in striking contrast to that employed by him when dealing
with beasts ; for birds in the " fourfold order " include fossil
types, but as to mammals, said Mr. Gladstone, " I wish to
be understood as speaking here of the higher or ordinary
mammals, which alone I assume to have been known to the
Mosaic writer," though why Moses should have known
of Archceoptery.v, bitt not of Microlestes, Mr. Gladstone does
not explain. If this be consistent procedure, the objections
I raised when misled by a lapsus scriheiuli of Mr. Olodd's
were answered in anticipation. I then mentioned that
Professor Huxley's only challenge to this portion of the
fourfold order, if challenge it was meant to be, was the
remark that " tlie question of the exact meaning of ' higher'
and ' ordinary ' in the case of mammals opens up the
prospect of a hopeful logomachy." Having taken the
matter in hand, however, " I must presume to animadvert
with considerable freedom upon " Mr. Gladstone's (toborrow
his phraseology) " mode of dealing with authorities."

We have the declaration that Professor H. G. Seeley
supplies us " very clearly " with the place of birds in
the succession of animal life — i.e., as antedating mammals.
The Manual i-; mentioned and the pages specified.
Turning thereto, or to any of the other pages, no such
view is enunciated, " clearly " or otherwise. Indeed, what
we do read is that " geological history does not cany us
back appreciably towards the origins of the great groups of
organic nature." " There is evolution, but it is only the
evolution of genera and of ordinal groups, and not of
classes." Mr. Gladstone has also perused the statements
and diagrams of the Phillips-Etheridge portion of the
Manual, but these are confessedly of no avail for the
present purpose.

Next conies Professor Prestwlch's treatise, to the proofs of
which Mr. Gladstone had access. Volume I. is now pub-
lished, and it is to this that Sir. Gladstone referred, men-
tioning in particular two pages, and discovering here an
order of succession which places birds as bsfore beasts.
This I fail to find on the pages specified or elsewhere.
In the table of contents, however, birds do happen to
be enumerated before mammals.

Then follows a postscript reference to the Odontonithes by
Professor O. C. Marsh, to indicate the probability that the
first " bird " was paljeozoic. It is perfectly true that
Professor Marsh has expressed this opinion, in Odontonithes
and elsewhere. "For the primal forms of the bird-type we
must evidently look to the palieozoic ; and in the rich land
fauna of our American pertnian we may yet hope to find
the remains of both birds and mammals " (italics mine).
This hope as to the turning up of permian mammals has
perhaps escaped INIr. Gladstone's notice ; or he might have
hesitated to seek an ally in Professor Marsh, as being one
liable to " prove too much."

Professor Marsh has, further, expressed the opinion that
volant birds may have originated in triassic times —
apparently solely on the ground that a (more or less)
volant bird {Arc/iceopteryx) occurs in the formation above,
for he discredits altogether the avian character of the
footprints — a method of reasoning which clearly compels us
to promptly seek for the ancestors of the triassic mammalia
in, at the latest, permian strata. This opinion, there-
fore, is detrimental to Mr. Gladstone's cause, and is

so far as the topics here under discussion are concerned. See
Nature and the Bible, opportunely translated by Kathleen Lyttelton,
vol. i., pp. 100, 330.

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLKDGK ♦

125

so whether we " describe animals by habitat " or by
structui-e." * In fact this description by habitat profiteth
nothing. Carl Vogt compares the flight of Archifopteri/x in
some measure with that of Galeopithecus. The precise
character of its sternum is not yet decided. It is very
questionable, however, whether Moses, if inspired to inform
us that bird-life commenced a day before beast-life, would
have described it (we may ignore Professor Mar.sh's highly-
problematically-avian permian parent of a hypothetically-
volant absolutely - unknown triassic progenitor of the
dubiousl^'-carinate Archaopteryx), as "fowl that may fly
above the earth in the open firmament of heaven ; " or
whether Mr. Gladstone would speak of such creatures as
members of the " air-population." Moses had better have
written of the feathered tribes !

Finally, let us bear this in mind. Had Mr. Gladstone
judiciously abstained from referring to the Manual, the
treatise, and the monograph, and ignored Archoiopteryx and
its undiscovered avian ancestors as he ignores Microlesfcs,
though the logic of his advocacy might have been enhanced
in merit, his case would none the less have failed, it
being far from a " demonstrated conclusion and establLshed
fact of natural science " that '• fowl that fly above the earth
in the open firmament of heaven " were in existence a day, or
an hour, befoi'O the advent of the Uutheria — whom we will
venture to identify with " the higher or ordinary mammals."

The Juniority of Man as against Mammals. — Mr. Glad-
stone wants to know how the juniority of man comes to be
set down in Genesis i. Prof. Huxley Ls supposed to have
affirmed as probable that man came last of all animal species.
The singularity of Mr. Gladstone's inqiairy consists in the
fact that he has taken scrupulous care to explain and insist
that the ilosaic mention of a class on a particular day
referred only to some members of that class. Seeing, as he
thought, an opportunity to interpret Genesis literally for
once, the delusion that every species of beast had been fully
evolved before man's creation is eagerly seized upon. Of
course beast-life commenced before the human period, but
this degi-ee of concordance is now too meagi-e. In fact, Mr.
Gladstone has one rule for birds as a class, and one rule for
beasts as a class ; also, as we previously saw, one rule for
Ai-ch(Eopferi/.v, another for Microlestes.

All I have to add to this section of the controversy is the
remark that, unless we accept some such theory as that of
Mr. S. E. B. Bouverie-Pusey (in Permatience and Evolu-
tion), avowedly arrived at by guessing, that evolution
operated until a recent geological period, and has since
ceased, it is improbable that man came last of all species.
For, as Alfred Eussel Wallace pointed out, his bodOy evolu-
tion waned when intellect became dominant; whereas nothing
analogous has interrupted specific diflerentiation amongst
wild animals.

MYTHS OF NIGHT AND WINTER.

By •' Stella 0(cipe.ns."
(Continued from p. 113.)
E have considered a few of the most popular
myths with regard to night and winter in
European countries. Let us now cross
over to the Western Continent and observe
the myths on this subject which prevail
among the Xorth American Indians.

Glooskap, according to the Passama-

"juoddy Indians, once sailed in his stone canoe far away, no one
knew where, but beyond the sea. He will return some day.

* Unless the liatitie long antedated the Carinatw. The former
may have produced some of the footprints. ( V. Dr. Henry Wood-
ward, Proceedings Gcoliirjixts Associatwii, February 1886, pp. 368-G9.)

Some say he went to the west. He lives in a very great, a
very long wigwam, and he always makes arrows. One side
of the lodge is full of arrows now. When it is all quite
full, he will come forth at a new twilight of the gods, exter-
minate the Ljlesinani, and establish an eternal happy
hunting-ground. Glooskap is deliberately preparing tor
such a fight, thus resembling the solar warriors in the
Norse traditions. Glooskap is now living in a Norse-like
Asa-heim ; but there is to come a day when all the arrows
will be ready, and he will come forth and sla}' all the wicked.
Here, again, Norse mythology is identical with the Indian.
A day will come when there will be a great final war and
death of heroes, and after all a new world : —

Then shall another come, yet mightier,
Although I dare not his name declare.
Few may see further forth
Than when Odin meets the wolf.*

(" Hyndluloid," p. 62.)

This idea of Glooskap returning recalls the expected return
of Barbarossa, King Arthur, the Three Tells, and other
great heroes who are to return some day. On the occasion
of a visit of Henry II. to Wales, the Welsh bards recited
a poem relating to King Arthur. It told how the latter
stt forth his trusty knights—

On conscious Camlan's crimsoned banks.
By Modred's faithless guile betrayed.
Beneath a Saxon spear to bleed !

King Arthur is wounded, and all unseen an elfin queen
throws her mantle of ambrosial blue over the hero : —

And bade her spirits bear him far,
In Slerlin's agate-axled car,
To her green isles enamelled steep,
Far in the navel of the deep.

She waved an opiate wand o'er his brow, and to the sound
of soft music closed her magic curtains round : —

There renewed the vital spring.
Again he reigns a mighty king.

Some day he will return to Britain to resume his ancient
sceptre : — ■

Once more in old heroic pride

His barbed courser to bestride;

His knighlly table to restore,

And brave the tournaments of yore.

As another instance of the expected return of a hero,
we have the Swiss legend of William Tell. This skilful
archer, who shot the apple oft" his son's head, is no other
than the last reflection of the sun, according to Dr. Dasent.
" Constrained for awhile to obey the powers of the tyrants
(cold and darkness), he at last escapes, like the skilful oar.s-
man Dagon, traverses the tempestuous sea of night, and
leaps at daj'break in freedom on shore. He destroys the
oppressor who kept him in bondage. But the sim, like
Siegfried, Sigurd, and the Sleeping Beauty, is not invulner-
able, and, being betrayed, is bound by the frost giants or
slain by the demons of darkness. Thus ' Allfadir,' really no
other than Odin, who himself must perish, and whom at
the day of doom the wolf, the Fenriswolf, was to swallow
at one gulp." f And, again, we have among the Swiss
legends "the tradition of the Three Tells. "The three
founders of the Helvetic confederacy are thought to sleep in
a cavern near the Lake of Lucerne. The herdsmen call
them the Three Tells, and say they lie there in their antique
garb in quiet slumber, and, when Switzerland is in her
utmost need, they will awaken and regain the liberties of
the land."

Thus we see that the mysterious disappearance of a great

* " Algonquin Legends." Leland, p. 133.

t " Chips from a German Workshop." Max Miiller, p. 191, and
p. 232.

126

KNOVSrLEDGE

[April 1, 1887.

hero, who is to return at the right moment, and lead his
people to victory and happiness, is a popular myth all over
the two continents. Among the Iroquois it is loskeha,
Wasi to the Cherokees, Tamoi to the Caribs, and among the
Algonquins it is Michabo.

He is said " to sleep through the winter months, and at
the time of the falling leaves, by way of composing himself
for his nap, he fills his great pijie and divinely smokes," or, as
Dr. Brinton expresses it, " in the autumn, in the moon of
the falling leaf, ere he composes himself to his winter's
sleep, he fills his great pipe and takes a godlike smoke."
The balmy clouds float over hills and woodlands, filling the
air with the haze of the " Indian Summer." *

Among the Hiawatha legends is a quaint Odjibwa allegory
of Winter and Spring. Schoolcraft relates it as follows : —

An old man was sitting in his lodge by the side of a
frozen stream. It wtis the close of winter, and his tire was
almost out. He appeared very old and very desolate. His
locks were white with age, and he trembled in every joint.
Day after day passed in solitude, and he heard nothing but
the sounds of the tempest, sweeping before it the new fallen
snow.

One day, as his fire was just dying, a handsome young
man, named Seegwun, approached and entered his dwelling.
His cheeks were red with the blood of youth, his eyes
sparkled with animation, and a smile played upon his lips.
He walked with a light, quick step. His forehead was
bound with a wreath of sweet grass in place of a wariior's
frontlet, and he carried a bunch of flowers in his hand.

" Ah, my son 1 " said the old man, " I am happy to see
you. Come in. Come, tell me of your adventures, and
what strange lands you have been to see. Let us pass the
night together. I will tell you of my prowess and exploits,
and what I can perform. You shall do the same, and we
will amuse ourselves."

He then drew from his sack a curiously -wrought antique
pipe, and, having filled it with tobacco, handed it to his guest.
When this ceremony was over the old man spoke as fol-
lows : —

"I blow my breath, and the streams stand still. The
water becomes stiff and hard as clear stone."

" I breathe," said the young man, " and flowers spring up
all over the plains."

" I shake my locks," said the old man, " and snow covers
the land. The leaves fall from the trees at my command,
and my breath blows them away. The birds rise from the
water and fly to distant lands. The animals hide themselves
from my breath, and the very ground becomes as hard as
flint."

"I .shake my ringlets," said the young man, "and warm
showers of soft rain fall upon the earth. The plants lift up
their heads out of the earth ; my voice recalls the birds ; the
warmth of my bi-eath unlocks the streams ; music fills the
groves wherever I walk, and all nature rejoices."

At length the sun began to rise. A gentle warmth came
over the place. The tongue of the old man became silent.
The streams began to murmur, and the fragrance of flowers
scented the air.

Daylight showed Seegwun that he had been entertained
by Peboan with the icy visage. Streams began to flow from
his eyes. As the sun increased he grew less and less in
stature, and soon had melted completely away. Nothing
remained on the place of his lodge fire but the miskodeed,
a small white flower (Clat/tonia virginica) with a pink
border, which is one of the earliest species of northern
plants. t

* " Myths of the New World," Brinton, p. 177.
•[■ " Hiawatha Legends," Schoolcraft, p. "JO.

In conclusion, we may note the account of how Glooskap
found the Summer, which appears to be the more complete
form of the legend of Peboan and Seegwun.

" In the long time ago when people lived always in the
early red morning, before sunrise, Glcosknp went very far
north, where all was ice. He came to a wigwam. Therein
he found a giant, a great giant, for he was Winter.
Glooskap entered ; he sat down. Then Winter gave him
a pipe ; he smoked, and the giant told tales of the old
times.

" The charm was on him ; it was the frost. The giant
talked on and froze, and Glooskap fell asleep. He slept for
six months like a toad. Then the charm fled, and he
awoke. He went his way home ; he went to the south ;
and at every stejJ it grew warmer, and the flowers began to
come up and talk to him.

" He came to where there were many little ones dancing
in the forest ; their queen was Summer. I am singing the
truth ; it was Summer, the most beautiful one ever born.
He caught her up ; he kept her by a crafty trick. The
Master cut a moose-hide into a long cord. As he ran away
with Summer, he let the end trail behind him.

" The fairies of Light pulled at the cord, but as Glooskap
ran the cord ran out, and, though they pulled, he left them
far away. So he came to the lodge of Winter — but now he
had Summer in his bosom — and Winter welcomed him,
for he hoped to freeze him again to sleep. I am singing
the .song of Summer.

" But this time the Master did the talking. And ere
long the sweat ran down Winter's face, and then h3 melted
more, and at last he had melted quite away, as did the
wigwam. Then everything awoke : the grass grew, the
fairies came out, and the snow ran down the rivers,
carrying away the dead leaves. Then Glooskap left
Summer with them, and went home."

AMERICA'S GROWTH.*

^lERONEOUS ideas are entertained by most
Englishmen and by many Americans about
the relations existing between that jiortion
of the great English-speaking community
which remains associated with Great
Britain, either at home or in her colonies,
and that other portion, now the main
body, which prefers to have its own system
of government apart from the old country. That the
diversity between the two systems of government differen-
tiates these two portions of communities not only English-
speaking, but to all intents and purjooses British, into
different nations, must of course be admitted ; but that
there ought to be any feeling apart from taste or con-
venience which should cause any member 6f either of these
communities to attach himself preferably to one rather than
to the other seems, if we consider the question as it actually
stands at present, absurd on the face of it. During a period
extending over about a century and a half, Britons (them-
selves a race of settlers in Great Britain) settled in various
parts of North America, without any feeling that they were
deserting their own kindred in thus making homes for
themselves elsewhere. Gradually as they grew in numliers,
as they gathered together into cities, and as their wealth
increased, they appeared of greater importance in the eyes
of the home government, as being better worth taxing to

* " Triumphant Democracy ; or. Fifty Years' March of the Re-
public.'' By Andrew Carnegie. London : Sampson Low, Mar.ston,
J Searle, & llivlngton.

Apbil 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

127

supply the sinews of war for contests in Europe. It was
not, however, as enemies of Great Britain that they resisted,
but in self-defence against the injustics of rulers who re-
garded nations as a sort of property. They were not
Americans fighting against Britons, but Britons in America
fighting for independence against the rulei-s of Great Britain
at home. If national rivahy at all were in question, one
might say, considering that the king of Great Britain was
of almost undiluted German blood, and that besides Britons
only Germans fought against the independence of our British
race in America, that the contest was between Britons and
Germans. This, however, would be to exaggerate the dif-
ference between the actual character of the War of Inde-
pendence and what that war is commonly held to be, alike
by Britons here, and by men of our own British stock in
America ; and no exaggeration is needed. The mistake
actually made is marked enough. It prevents the average
Briton from glorying in the noble effort by which our people
more than a century ago achieved victory for their just
cause; and it prevents the average American from recog-
nising that it was while Americans were British in name
as well as in fact (for this they have always been) that they
achieved the independence wliich is the greatest glory of one
of these nations, and should lie the greatest glory of both.

America being derived, as we know she was, from an
essentially British stock, and being essentiall}' British in
blood and character, the Briton who finds it suit his pur-
pose to join the American community has no reason for
regarding himself as debarred from so doing by any claims
of the home community iipon him. There are, in fact, no
such claims now any more than there were in the case of
those who went out as colonists to America in the seven-
teenth and eighteenth centuries. JTor should an American
who finds it convenient to make the old country or one of
its colonies his home, consider that he is deserting his own
people any more than a Virginian or a Xew Englander
would so think, who found it convenient to return to
England in the old days, before the War of Independence
had definitel_y sepai-ated the British race into communities
having dififerent governments. The only kind of patriotism
which can be regarded by reasoning men as a virtue, is
loyalty to the people ; loyalty to a form of government and
loyalty to a tract of land are qualities appropriate only to
semi- savage i-aces.

If all Britons believed in monarchy, not only as a system
which it would be inconvenient to change, but on principle,
and if all Americans were equally earnest in the belief
that a man is necessarily degraded who remains within a
community ruled (even nominally) by a sovereign, the case
would doubtless be very different. It would then be a
point of patriotism for a Briton to remain British and for
an American to remain American. Or if war were likely,
one might almost say if war were possible, then — a.s war,
essentially degrading, necessarily brings with it many un-
pleasant conditions — it might be a sort of duty for Americans
and Britons, alike, to remain severally under their own
respective flags. But Britons are not monarchist nor
Americans repulilican in that foolish sense. The Briton
knows that he has taken nearly all eSective evil out of
monarchy — for all at least who respect the dignity of their
manhood. (As for the rest, those who being free prefer to
ape slavery and having the right to stand erect fall to boot-
licking— with an appetite — it matters little what form of
government they have.) The American, in like manner,
knows that if he and his fellows wQled they could substi-
tute a king for a president, yet give up no atom of their
freedom or their self-respect.

The Briton, even if he call himself (not being concerned
about trifles) a subject, is as free ft-oni all real subjection as

the American citizen. If he spaaks with esteem or respect
of any king or queen who chances, as has happened, to be
virtuous and intelligent — or even both — it is as men or
women he regards them, and his respect implies no ad-
mission that the original atrocities were ju.st by which the
English monai-chy was founded and the people temponrrily
brought into real subjection. Still less does such reasonable
esteem for a king or queen chancing to be worthy of esteem
imply approval of the wars, the iniquities, or the immorali-
ties by which nearly all the rulers of this country afflicted
and oft'ended the people in past times. The American in
like manner knows that neither his own people nor the
kindred people here would sufter such iniquities or anything
approaching to them to be perpetuated, even though America
should choose to give to its government the title of monarchy,
or though Great Britain still allows the name to remain
after the evil of it is dead.

As for war, if war is possible between two such com-
munities as Great Britain an 1 America, then the shame of
that is such as to overshadow any such shame as might
belong to being on one side or the other side in a contest
which would be unutterably degrading to both.

These remarks have been suggested by the reading of
Mr. Andrew Carnegie's interesting work, " Triumphant
Democracy." It brings before the reader more thoroughly
than any book we have yet seen the importance of the
ethnic question in considering the fortunes of a nation, and
the comparative insignificance of the particular form of
government which the nation may find convenient. Mr,
Carnegie calls his book " Triumphant Democracy," but, so
far as we can see, he in no sense shows that democracy, as
such, has had much to do with the progi-ess of America.
Democracy regarded in its negative aspect has been, doubt-
less, all-important in determining the fortunes of the States.
But this implies only the converse proposition that a nation
which begins its career in a state of actual subjection to
more or less rapacious rulers, and their plunder-loving
followers, cannot possibly make rapid progress until it has
shaken itself free and replaced a state of real subjection by
one of practical citizenhood. If the progress of America
during the last century has been almost incomparably more
rapid than that of the old country, it has not been because
of any inherent virtue in democi-acy, but because the pro-
gress of America as a nation has not been hampered by
oppressive misgovernment. There is curious evidence of
this in the degeneracy of the present race of politicians in
America. England would be ruined in a couple of genera-
tions if her politicians were as worthless as those who have
attained power in America (we make no comparison in
regard to English statesmen, for there are no statesmen in
America).

But what good fortune it is to a nation to be let alone,
to have a fair start in national life instead of having to
struggle out from under a dead weight of oppression, this
book shows well. We commend it to the careful study of
those who imagine that they have settled the whole question
by pointing to miniicipal bribery at New York, corrupt
State legislation at Albany, and iniquitous political life at
Washington. Compare the nation fairly and truly pictured
in this book, a nation about as much to be judged by its
politicians as England by lords-in-waiting and other flunkeys
at court, with the America of a hundred years ago — extend-
ing the comparison so that while the former is compared
with the England of to-day the latter is compared with the
England of a hundred years ago — and it will be felt, we
think, that America must have had some immense advan-
tage in the race. What that advantage has been cannot
well be doubted. Democratic government has done little
for America, and of late the little that her politicians have

128

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[Apbil 1, 1887.

done has been harmful ; but the power and the right which
Americans possess to go their own way, and their manful
determination to hold that right, let Governments, their
own included, do wliat they will, have been all-in-all to the
great nation of our kinsmen across the Atlactic. Even the
possession of the suffrage by persons utteily unfit to vote
on any higher question than the paving of a back alley has
not been able to do one-thousandth part of the harm one
might have expected.

The illustrative map, taken from an old edition of the
" Encyclopjedia Britannica," is as strongly suggestive of

sider what it is now I The three millions of 1770 had
grown to thirteen millions in 1830, and now to nearly sixty
millions — '• more English-speaking people than exist in all
the world besides," more than the whole population of the
United Kingdom pbn twice the population of the British
colonies. In 18-50 the total wealth of the United States
was 1,686,000,000/., that of Great Britain being
4,500,000,000/. ; now the wealth of Great Britain is
abjut 9,000,000,000/., or almost exactly double what it
was in 1850; but the wealth of the United States had
risen in 1880 to 9,790,000,000/., and is now nearly

t.EOaHATHT.

i-iate OXXCTV.

.^//i/r^^. r

what America was when that majj was thought sufficient, as
is the letterpress of that work so for as it relates to the
United States. Not one page in all is devoted to the de-
scription of the infant nation which had just begun to run
alone. Except for a line or two about Virginia, one might
suppose the States were still British colonies, though the
edition bears date 1783. Not a single line implies that
there had been any contest worth mentioning on the other
side of the Atlantic. The map was manifestly drawn to
correspond with this feeling of contemptuous indifference
for the young nation.

America was, indeed, but a small nation then, though it
deserved the respect and sympathy of Great Britain, since,
while as yet it was not America but a community of British
colonists, it had maintained its just claims to independence
against the full strength of the mother country. But con-

1 1,000,000,000/. In 1850 it was hardly worth while to men-
tion America's manufactures in the same breath with those of
Gre.at Britain ; in 1880 Briti.sh manufactures amounted to
818,000,000/., those of the States to 1,112,000,000/., nearly
half as much as the manufacturing wealth of the whole of
Europe. As our author well puts it, though Great Britain
manufactures for the whole world, while America is gainirig
onl}' the conti'ol of her own markets, Biitish manufactures
in 1880 had not two-thirds the value of those of the
century-old republic. The annual savings of America are
210,000,000/., exceeding those of the United Kingdom by
50,000,000/. and those of France by 70,000,000/. In com-
paring the American carrying business with that of Great
Britain, we seem to find the younger country behind, since
the American shipping amounts to but nine millions of
tons, that of Great Britain to eighteen millions. But when

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNONA/'LEDGE ♦

129

we consider the internal commerce between the States we
recognise a difference the other way. This internal com-
merce exceeds the entire foreign commerce of Great Biitain
and Ireland, France, Germany, Kussia, Holland, Austro-
Hungary, and Belgium combined. The Pennsylvania
Railioad system, alone, transports more tonnage than all
our British merchant ships !

These are but a few samples of the wonders which Mr.
Carnegie — a Scotsman by birth, and not a politician, but a
man of business — has to tell about the development of
America. We commend his book to the careful reading
of men who think ; for party men, or men otherwise liable
to be swayed by mere prejudice, the work will be pleasing
or irritating, according (x) the direction in which their
proclivities tend. But for those who look hopefully, or at
least longingly, to the future of the human race, it is a work
whose every page will be full of meixning.

EVOLUTION OF LANGUAGE.

By Ad.\ 8. Ballin.

Vir.— THE OEKilN OF ROOTS.

HEN discussing the origin of the natui-al
sign language '■'■ I showed how its words
are formed by the reproduction of the
natural signs of emotion, by the imitation
of the characteristic aspects, mo\ements, or
uses of objects, and for brevity by the
representation of marks characteristic of
certain objects. Similarly words may originate by imita-
tion of : —

1. Natural sounds, which are the outward expression of
sensations or emotions.

2. The sounds produced by animals, which are, as it w-ere,
marks each characteristic of the animal that utters it.

.'!. The sounds produced by the movement of inanimate
things, and in the use of objects by man.

In considering the first class we find that certain sounds,
which ai-e called interjectional, are common to races speak-
ing widely different languages, and they are so because they
are the natural and instinctive expression of feelings which
are common to all mankind. Such ai-e sighs and groans, as
Ah ! Oh I which, pronounced in various tones, express very
different feelings, as, for example, all shades of grief, pain,
surpi-ise, admiration, and even pleasui'e. The words ivoc,
Saxon ira, Latin vo', Greek ovai, Welsh ginae, German Weh,
Dutch loee, Swedish ve, Hebrew hoi, are imitative of the
sounds of sighing which we find in the emotional interjec-
tions : Iieiijlio, Wolof language of Africa MiiJiIii, Hebrew Aloili,
hi'ili, and Itu. Another set of derivatives from the same
source may be seen in our /a .' stop 1 tcay '. irhod .' when
addressed to horses ; Challam Indian /tiJi .' — which may all
be taken as meaning " There's danger ahead, so stop," or " It
will be worse for you if you don't stop."

In Chinese plays of the Yuen dynasty i'> and in'' are used
as exclamations or calls to inferiors, as ii-vd /il-jtn ^nl-
yaii t'l-k'n, " 0 woman ! do not cry and weep " ; ivit-nd
hi-shu-li ! Halloa ! Postman I " In the Shi-King hii-hu ! an
exclamation arising from pain, is used as " Oh ' Alas ! "
The Hebrew Iwi or ui is used, 1, of lamentation; as alas!
2, of threatening, as : "H'oe to the sinful nation," Isaiah i. 1,
like ho! woe! hei! Greek oi, Latin, I'ce ! and also, 3, of
admonition, like ho ! heus ! he ! Hoi erets, &.c. (Isaiah
xviii. 1), translated, " Ah, the land, &c." Ho, in Chinese, is
used as a noun, " Misery."

* Knowledge, vol. vii ,

p. c

16.

A curious instiince of the introduction into language of a
sound produced by an emotional expiession is that of the
sound o. In Japanese o is used as a prefix of honour, as :
iiuts'h', a spy (literally eye-fixer). O nuts lie, a princely or
imperial spy, Oo mets'kr the spy in chief. (Jo also, by a
natural transition, becomes the inteijectional adjective
" great." The Iroquois of North Ameiica form compound
words with the sounds io, indicative of admiration ; in
Mohawk, Garonta means a tree ; Garontio, a beautiful tree ;
and Oliio, means a beautiful river. The siniOar usage of the
-sound, aujong such widely ditierent peoples, may be accounted
for by the fact that when anyone is startled or astonished
the mouth is widely opened to draw a deep breath, and so
be ready for action. When the next expiration takes place
the mouth is slightly closed, and the lips protruded, so that
the sound of a long o is produced. I remember that, when
I w.as a child, if fireworks were being displayed, at each
discharge a sort of deep groaning, " Ob I " invariably' came
from the crowd ; but now that tirewoiks are so frequently
seen, that sound is rarely heard, or, if at all, only from one
or two voices, instead of being, as formerly, unanimous.

Darwin observed that when on a cjuiet night some
I'ockets were fired from on board the Jlcayk, which was
anchored in a little creek at Tahiti, as each rocket was let
of}' there was absolute silence, invariably followed by a deep
groaning Oh, resounding all round the bay. When pain is
felt with surprise, the tendency to contract all the muscles
of the body which accompanies pain causes the lips to be
drawn back, and the sound, liecoming higher, assumes the
character oi Ah! or Ach ! The Chinese interjection to
indicate pain is ai-ai (cf. Italian, ahi, in ahiitie, woe 's
me). Mr. W. Mathews says the North American Indians
exjjress astonishment by a gi-oan, which doubtless re-
sembles the sound described by Darwin. The deaf, dumb,
and blind Laura Bridgeman, to whom I have previously
referred, when amazed, rounds and protrudes her lips,
opens them and breathes strongly, making a sort of
sound, ho-o-f-t, for wonder. Indeed, the lips are often pro-
truded in astonishment, and the same expression has been
observed in the chimpanzee and orang. Mr. Winwood
Bead states that the negroes of the west coast of Africa
under the same emotion protrude their lips and make a
sound ]i]iehei(/h-heifjh. Among the Chinese ai-i/n (cf. Latin
(ja) is an expression of joy and surprise.

If the mouth is not much opened whilst the hps are
considerably protruded, the result is a blowing, hissing, or
whistling sound, and Mr. R. Brough Smyth informed Darwin
that an Australian from the interior on being shown an
acrobat turning head over heels '• was greatly astonished,
and protruded his lips, making a noise with his mouth, as
if blowing out a match." Mr. Bulmer says the Australians
make an exclamation of surprise /.o/-//, "' and to do this the
mouth is drawn out as if going to whistle." Europeans
whistle when surprised. Englishmen utter an exclamation
written whew, and Mr. Mansel Weal saw a Kaffir girl who,
on hearing of the high price of an article, " rai.sed her eye-
brows and whistled just as a European would."* r<t .and
(( in Chinese denote wonder and astonishment, while hi is
an exclamation of admiration used in poetry, as : pi mei Jin
hi! that beautiful person !

When an unple;isant odour is encountered, an instinctive
action takes place by which the nostrils are closed, the lips
narrowed almost to closure, and a rapid expiration made, in
order to get rid of the noxious particles. In so doing the
sound of / is produced ; the same gesture is frequently
made when the feeling of di.sgust or displeasure is mental.
Thus Laura Bridgeman when displeased would make the
sound /, ./f, or _fi. The same sound may be found in our

* See Darwin's " Expression of the Emotions," p. 2S.5 rt set/.

130

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[April 1, 188

expression, " Fie ! for sbame," or in the exclamation com-
monly written. /«««(//( .' A more explosive action in Ijlowiug
tln'ough the mouth as if to get rid of an oflending object
■will produce the sound pooh, /;('.s7(, or ^w/;ai(', often written as
exclamations, and to this origin may be traced a number of
words in many different languages. 8uch, for example, is
the Sanskrit /(»y, to become /omZ (whence Latin putridus,
our putrid), piy and phj, to revile, hate. The Zulu says of
turned-off meat, " the meat says pu " (stinks). In Timorese
poop means putrid ; Quiche puh, poll signifies corruption —
our pus; polilr is to turn bad, puz rottenness; Hebrew
puahh, to exhale as odours, blow (cf. Malay /«{/>?«<, to blow),
utter, pant, rail against (cf. Maori piiku, to pant). From
the same source comes also the vei'b to pujf', with all its
derivatives, even to T^owAnr-pnff. From the idea of a puff
of smoke comes the Australian pooiju, smoke ; (:||uichua
pu/iucumt, to light afire ; pultuya, a cloud ; TawXuJ'u, cloud.
In Zulu also the word for thorax is Juha, pupuiiia means
to bubble, boil, and very many other derivatives from the
same instinct-sound, if I may so call it, might be cited.
The English spue and spit have similar origins, and the
sound of forcible ejection from the mouth is heard in
Tahitian Tutua, to spit. In Chinese p)t is used to express
contempt and defiance, and is very often equivalent to
" begone ! "

Our woi'd cliuclif is imitative of the sound uttered as an
expression of inward amusement and glee, an instinctive
sound, as proved by its being made by Laura Bridgeman.
The Zulu jr/jf/^eArt is used in the same way as our ;//(/(//?;
hee-hee or ha-ha becomes a word meiining to laugh ;
Sanskrit, hahh. The Chinese make a word h)-lu expressive
of laughter, and A? is used in the sense of " to be glad."
Zulu lialala, to utter a sound of exultation, corresponds to
the Hebrew Italal, to shout, give praise, introduced into
English in the form Hallelujah ! which means literally
" Praise Jah," or Jehovah, and to our Inirruh.

Interjections may become words : thus from o, the
answer to a call or cry used by the Gallas to drive cattle,
two verbs have been formed — oarda, to answer, and ofa to
drive.

The function of bi'eathing is that which, all over the
world, has been and is considered the most significant of
life. To say a person has ceased to breathe is equivalent to
saying that he is dead. The Hebrew root hhayah, to live,
is imitative of breathing, and from it come many derivatives.
Another form of it is lihivvah, to breathe out, declare,
show ; from it come also hhavvah, life, the name of the
fir.st woman. Eve; the more-used plural form //hui/im,
life ; and hhai/ah, living thing. Another very important
form of the verb to breathe is liayah to exist, to be,
to become, happen; al.so seen in Jiavali, which takes on,
moreover, from the idea of breathing after, the meaning to
desire, long for ; havvah, desire, cupidity, or avah (with
vav), to long for, ovva/i, desire, lust — in a spiritual sense,
pleasure, will. Closely connected with the latter is the verb
aba/i. Compare Latin aveo, to be willing, to wish, desire, long
for, and the much-used Semitic root ahab, to desire, love.

The Sanscrit root bhu to be, mustj also have originated in
the imitation of the sounds of breathing ; its form closely
resembles the above Hebrew words, and from it are de-
rived the Latin Ju " to bo," existing only in the perfect
tenses — Welsh bod ; German bin, bist, &,c. ; side by side
with sein, ist, &c. ; Saxon bean, our English to be. To
have and to happen ai'e probably derived from the same
origin in the imitation of breathing sounds; the Welsh
Iiapiaw is to happen, to befall, to have luck ; liap or hap,
luck, chance, that which falls or comes suddenly, allied with
Dutch happen ; Welsh hajiaiv, to snatch ; Norman hopper,
to seize ; French happej; to snap or catch (a sound which

may be heard when a dog catches in its mouth anything
thrown to it). In Spanish haber means to hr(ve, to happen,
to befall, to take, to possess ; thus uniting the meanings of
the Latin cap, and hab, which are apparently cognate words.
To our have correspond Saxon habban, Gothic haban,
German haben, Dutch hebben, Swedish hafra, Danish haver,
Portuguese haver, Italian avere, French avoir ; and, as men-
tioned above, Welsh ]iafi<iw, to snatch or seize hastily, as
well as hapiaic to happen. Closely allied with this is our
slang term cop, " to take," with its derivative copper, " a
policeman."

The Hebiew word ritahh, meaning air in motion, wind,
and which to my ear is distinctly imitative, applied also to
breath of the nostrils, s-nuffimj, snorting of anger, like a/ih
from aiatph to breathe, comes to be used in the same way as
the Latin sjiirifus (literally breathing), as spirit, soul, vital
principle; and nephesh, breath, from the root napliasli is
similai-ly used. Aiiuph (whence apli, anger), to breathe,
especially through the nostrils, is used in the sense of
to be angry, and is imitative of the hard breathing
of anger. The i-oot ruahh, to breathe, is cognate with
puahh to blow, and nuahh to respire, breathe quietly,
hence to rest. It is used in the same way as in the
Germanic languages the root huch, hugh, AUemanic
hughi, Swedish hugh = Hebrew rtuiMi, spirit. The
Hiphil form of the verb rualiJi is herialth, to smell, similar to
the German riechen, in smelling, the air being drawn in and
expu-ed through the nostrils. Followed by a particle mean-
ing in, it comes to mean smelling with pleasure, to delight
in (Isaiah xi. 3, " His delight shall be in," &c.). Reahh
•nichoahh, "a sweet savour," also means something pleasant
in a moral sense. Another derivative of the word ruahh is
ravahh, to be spacious, ample, loose; hence, rluaM, space
(Genesis xxxii. 17), relaxation, freedom from distress (Esther
iv. 1-t). Imitative of the sound of hard breathing, we find
shaaph, to pant, catch at with open mouth; hence, by an
easy transition, to hasten. Cognate to this root are sliuph,
to gape upon — hence, lie in wait for ; ncishaph, to blow —
whence veshepih, evening twilight, when the cool breeze
blows, and, further, darkne.ss, night (Isaiah v. 11), or morn-
ing, when there is also a cool breeze (Job vii. 4), nashaph
being only another form of the more largely used root
naphash, for, as we have seen, the transposition of sounds
is a very common linguistic change. These roots may be
compared with the German schnauben, to breathe heavily,
pant for; schnaufen, to pufl" and blow; and schnappen, to
siMj), gasp, catch at. We find the same idea in puahh,
to breathe, blow, blow out ; also to utter and rail against, in
which sense it is connected with the word peJi, Arabic _/m,
mouth. In Hebrew the sounds p and /'are interchangeable
and represented by the same letter of the alphabet ; for
example, jii'h, with the prefix I, meaning " to," becomes lephi,
" according to." Puahh is also closely connected with the
word naphahh, to blow, breathe, kindle (as a fiie) ; cf. German
fachen and anfachen, and yaphach, used in the Hithpael
form (.Jeremiah iv. 31), to pant or sigh deeply.

OUR PUZZLES.

I HE Puzzles for last month in their simplest
form are dealt with in what follows : —

Puzzle XXV. T'o buihl up four letra-
Jiedrons and six sqiuire-based pyramids
liaviitg equal triangular /aces into a square-
based pyramid.

Set four of the pyi'amids so that their
square bases aekh, ebfk, kfcg, and kc.dh, fill the square
ABC'D as shown in fig. 1, their vertices being at l, >i, n, and o.

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

131

Into the space emkl fit a tetrahedron of which ek and lm
are opposite edges, and in like manner fill in the spaces
KMFN. KSGO, and KOHL. Into the space lmno fit a pjTaniid

apex downwards, and on its base lm\o add another pyramid.
We thus get the pyramid abcd having equilateral triangular
faces AKB, BKC, CKD, and dka.

Cor. 1. It is obvious that we can in like manner set nine
pyramids to fit a square base; and fit in between them 12
tetrahedrons ; and then fit in 4 pyramids apex down-
wards, whose i bases \W1I give a surface such as abcd,
fig. 1. On this we build up as before a pyramid in which
are 6 pyi'amids and i teti'ahedrons. \Ye thus build up
19 pyramids and 16 tetrahedrons into a pyramid on a square
base and with equilatei-al triangular faces.

Cor. 2. So can we build up 16 pyramids apex upwards
+ 9 apex downwards +9 apex upwards +i apex down-
wards + 4 apex upwards -f 1 apex downwards -|- 1 apex
upwards, into a square-based equilateral-faced pyramid, by
fitting in 24 tetrahedrons in lowest layer, 12 in the 2nd,
and 4 Ln the 3rd — making 44 pyramids and 40 tetrahedrons
in all.

Cor. 3. And manifestly, if a square base has a side
containing an edge of a pyramid or tetrahedron, n times the
number of pyramids and tetrahedrons required to build up
a pyramid on that base will be as follows : —

Xo. of pyramids = w--|-2[(n-l)--|-(7i-2)--|- ... +9

+ 4-hl]

= n'' + '!LZ}{2n-l)n

= 3(2n-^+l)

(Observe that if « is not divisible by 3, 2n- + l is neces-
sarily divisible by 3 ; for in that case n is of one of the
forms 3r±l, and .•.2/(--t- 1 is of one of the forms 18'/-±12r
+ 3.)
No. of tetrahedrons = 4 [(1-1-2 -f 3. . . +«) + (1 -|-2-|-3-|-
. .. +n-l)^- .. . +6j-£-|-l)]
= i[{\+2 + 3+ ... +,i-l) + (H.
2-1-3+ .. . -fw-2)-|- .. . -I-IO-F
6-1-3 + 1]

= |(»l-l)«(7l+l)

- -3 W'--

1)

(Obviously if n is not divisible by 3, «'- — 1
divisible by 3, its two factors being n + 1 and n ■

must be
1, one of
which mast be a multiple of 3 when n is of one of the
forms 3?'±1.)

When /( Ls very large, we see that the numbers of the
tetrahedrons and pyramids approach a ratio of equality.
The number of pyramids, however, always exceeds the
number of teti-ahedrous by n. Thus, if a = 1,000, or there
are a million pyi-amids Ln the base layer, the entire
pyi-amid, which will require --^ (999,999), or 666,666,000

tetrahedrons, will require '-^' (2,000,001), or 666,667,000
pyramids — i.e., 1,000 more pyi-amids than tetrahedrons.

Plzzle XXVI. To build up six octahedrons and eiy/it
tetrahedrons having eqiud square faces, into a single
octahedron.

It is obvious that if aekh, ebfk, kfco, and kgdh, fig. 1,
represent octaliedrons projecting below as well as above the
plane abcd, a fifth octahedron LSixo, with four tetrahedron.?
in the previous case, will complete the semi-octahedron
abode above the plane abcd, whUe a sixth octahedron and
four tetrahedrons heloir this plane, will complete the other
semi-octahedron, or build up the entire octahedron.

for. 1. Clearly we can buildup 9 octahedrons + 4 octa-
hedi'ons above +4 below the first nine^l octahedron above
+ 1 below, with 1 2 tetrahedrons above +12 below the
nine octahedi'ons +4 aliove +4 below, to make a single
octahedron, using in all 19 octahedrons and 32 tetrahedrons.

Cor. 2. Similarly can we buikl up a single octahedron of
41 octiihedrons and 80 tetrahedrons, simply dealing with the
case as in Cor. 2 on the previous puzzle, but using as many
tetrahedrons below as above the square base of the upper
semi-octahedron, and octahedrons instead of semi-octahedral
pyramids throughout.

Cor. 3. And manifestl}-, if the edge of the containing
octahedrons is n times as long as any of the equal edges of
the component octahedrons and tetrahedrons, the numbers
of these solid figures will be as follows : —

No. of tetrahedrons=i (2?i'' + 1),

No. of octahedrons=-— -(w- — 1),
o

the number of octahedrons being always less than twice the
number of tetrahedi'ons by 2« (or the number of octa-
1 hedrons always n greater than half the number of tetra-
hedrons). But when n is very great, the number of
tetrahedrons becomes very nearly twice as great as the
number of oct;ihedrons.
I Note. I propose to leave till next month the inquiry into
j the way in which, when space is filled in with octahedrons
I and tetrahedrons, or with semi-octahedral pyramids and
' tetrahedrons, the component solids can be shifted in slic&s
[ or in strips. One of the puzzles given this month will be
found to bear on these points.

PrzzLE XXVII. To find a semi-regular solid of such a
form that ant/ number of such solids, of equal size, can be
Imilt up into a single solid without interstices ; as a solid
I may be built up of equal cubes, but within the solid thus
I built up no shifting or sliding must be possible (as hi the
Cfise of a cube-built solid) vAthout inteiTuption of con-
tinuifi/.

I propose to leave the discussion and demonstration of
this puzzle to next month, giving for the present only the
solution :—

The solid required is a semi-regular dodecahedron. It
has twelve faces, each a rhombus or diamond, so that all its

F16. 2.

edges are equal. The solid angles of the figure are made up
of three of the larger, or four of the smaller angles of the

132

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[April 1, 1887.

diamond faces. The figure of the rhombus may be defined
as having its larger angle equal to that subtended liy an
edge of a regular tetrahedron from the tetrahedron's centre
of figure. Thus, let abcd, fig. 2, be a regular tetrahedron ;
BE perpendicular to and bisecting AC ; df perpendicular to
BE (ef one-third of be) ; fg one-fourth of df (so that G is
the centre of gravity, and of figure, of the tetrahedron
ABCD. Join AG, GB, BC. Then agc, bgc, bga, are severally

<^^^

^A

<c

/J

<^^

^-^

B

0

L

F

J^

^>J

^/

/

V7

/

1

Fig. 3.

halves of the rhombus required ; and agbc is one of the
three-planed solid angles of the solid required. It is easy
to obtain D(; by a geometrical construction; or arithmetically
thus, putting the edge of the tetrahedron equal to 2« : —
dg=|i>f=Jv/db- — BF-;
also DB''=4n^; BF^=|BE^=|a* ;

^ _- re _ , 49«

wherefore DG=Jv/^«==a v/S or ^x/6 = l-225a nearly=^^

nearly.
Thus dg=ag=bg=cg=aw forty-nine eightieths of AC,
ab, bc, or BD.

The diamond faces for our solid can be readily constituted
from this known proportion. They have the shape and form
in the twelve diamonds of fig. 3, which represents what is

called the '' net " for the required solid. The student will
find it interesting to cut out such a " net " in card, dividing
half through the card along ab, bi, hi, (fee, and then bending
the card into the form of the solid shown, in two aspects, in
figs. 4 and .'j.

MATHEMATICAL RECREATIONS.

OUR PUZZLES.

OR this month I suggest three puzzles con-
nected with the last three, and also with
those which preceded them in March,
February, and even January (when the
orange-packing puzzles appeared). Any
one who studies out the geometrical and

arithmetical relations involved in these

puzzles will find that he has gone through

instructive exercises.

Puzzle XXVIII. tihow how to build up n rer/ular

fetrnhedron of smnller ietrahedroiis and octahedrons having

equal triaiufular faces and edges commensurable in length
with those of the hitlt U}} tetrahedron. (Simplest form of
the problem is to build four tetrahedrons and one octahedron
into a tetrahedron.)

Puzzle XXIX. A number of equal spherical shells, of
highly elastic skin-like material, are filled with a gas ivhich
expands energetically when its temperature is raised. They
are piiled up in pyramids like cannon-balls, and the pyramids
enclosed in rigid casings ; or they are packed in boxes like
the oranges in the January piuzzles, remaining all globukir
and equal. Being theyi exposed to a constantly increccsitig
temperature, the shells expand, losiiig their globrdar form,
and eventually becoming everywhere flat-faced. Determine
the shapes the shells assume in (he middle of the heap, where
the pressures around each may be assumed to be uniform.
i^Near the enclosing casings, of course, the pressures are not
uniform.)

Puzzle XXX. Six Alpine tourists, three of them men,
are nearing the place where they propose to take their midday
meal, when one of the ladies asks what they are to do for
seats. One of the men, of the kind defined by Dickens as
" ((n ingenious beast," propounds to the other two a phn by
which the six aljienstocks of the party can be converted, in a
few 7ninutes, into a comfortable and symmetrical structiire
on tvhich the ichole company may be seated. The party have
with them plenty of rope {being prudent mountaineers) and
a good supply of stout cord. Within less than ten minutes
after the arrival of the tourists at their resting-jjlace all six
are comfort nhly seated. What v^as the ingenious beast's plan?
{The alpenstocks are each six feet long.)

Note. — For reasons not belonging to the domain of
mathematics, the three masculine tourists considered it
especially desirable that the party sho'ild be seated in pairs,
each pair in some degree apart from the others. The in-
genious one secui-ed this result also.

Race Characteristics of the Jews. — Dr. A. Neubauer
read a paper recently, before the British Anthropological
Institute, on '• Race Types of the Jews," the purport of
which was to show tliat there had been considerable inter-
mixtures in the Hebrew race from the time of Abraham
down. Jo.seph married an Egyptian and Moses a Midianite;
David was descended from a Moabitess, and Solomon was
the son of a Hittite woman. So we read of the non-Jewish
women in contact with the Israelites, and undoubtedly the
proselytes increased the mixture of races by marrying Jewish
women. INIoreover, some quite marked differences prevailed
in the Middle Ages, and .still exist, between the Jews
residing in different nations. Mr. J. Jacobs, in a paper
" On the Racial Characteristics of INIodern Jews," took a
different view. Regai-ding only the Askenasian Jews, who
form more than nine-tenths of the whole number, he pointed
out as among their characteiistics fertility, short stature as
compared with Europeans, and narrow chests, brachycephalic
skulls, darker hair and eyes than those of any nation in
Northern Europe (though nearly one-fifth of the Jews have
blue eyes, and they have nearly twice as many red-haired
individuals as the inhabitants of the Continent), and a
peculiar cast of countenance. He pointed out that the
pui'ity of the race depended on the number of proselytes
made by the Jews in ancient and Mediaeval times. The
earlier proselytes, before the foundation of Christianity,
were mostly fellow- Semites, and would not affect the type,
while the numbers made afterward were too small to modify
the race. A considerable number of Jews, the Cohens, were
not allowed to marry proselytes, and must consequently be
tolerably pure. Mr. Jacobs's general conclusion was there-
fore in favour of the purity of the Jewish race.

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

133

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP VI.— Foe March, Apkil, axd Mat.

The Night Skies in the Southebn Hemisphere (Lat. 46' to 21° S.)

ASD THE

SOUTHERN' Skies in England (Upper Half of Map only) at the following Times :
At 1 o'clock, mormng.Aprn 7. , At 11.30 o'clock, night, AprU 30. ' A" V'^'-''' -=^t, May 22. ; At 8.30 oxlock, night, June U,
,,12 30 „ „ April 14. „ 11 „ ,. May 7. ,,9.30 ,. „ May 30. „S „

;; Midnight. April 22. ,,10.30 „ „ May 15. , „9 „ „ June,. ,,,.30 „

June 22.
June 30.

SOUTHERN SKIES FOR JANUARY.— A Correction.
The datesfor the January map. p. 63, were wrongly given corresponding to the maps o;_myj;_ Constella«onJeasonsj;^(n^^^^^^^

not, as they should, to those' which form my " Stars in their Seasons."

At U 30 o'clock, night, Jan. 29. At 10 o'clock, night, Feb. 21.
11 ., „ Feb. 6. „ 9.30 .. .. March 1

At 1 o'clock, morning, Jan. 7.
„ 12.30 „ „ Jan. 14.

Midnight,

Jan. 22.

10.30

Feb. 14.

The proper dates and hours for the January map are as follows :-

At 8.30 o'clock, night, March 16.
„ 8 „ „ March 23

", 7.30 „ „ March 30.

March 8.

134

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[April 1, 1887.

Map III.

by Rj cll•^ A . Proc tor

The Imear scale r-cuHaRy us tmiforrn.
fhrou^nouX. -. th£ thtvarc sc<Ue is
^eater hy h^^^half way W the edge,
«'^ ^ /U'^ca. the ed^e.

Scale of Mjles itctrrvtreof-map
and, "TOLdialXy oXl o veT ~mjxp .

EnglisTi Miles
O 50 100 200 AQQ 600 800 " Tooo

MAP12

Smalh areas are ffrraier by 'j^V^ai/*
way -to tize edge, and. by J^^.*- a/

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

WE give another map of this series, reserving an account of the method in
which the sjihere has been divided, and each map projected, till our
space is less crowded.

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

135

THE NEW COMETS.*

By Richard A. Pkoctor.

LEEADY the year 1887 has three comets
on its record, one of which promises to be
conspicuous. Small comets, indeed, are
found to be so common that we must expect
soon to hear of cheaper rates than ai-e at
present proffered, somewhat to the lower-
ing of cometic dignity, for theii' discovery.
When prizes were first offered for comet-
finding, the value of the prize ran, unless I mistake, to 100^.
Now, ten or twenty comets may be discovered for less
money, and what was thought fair work for a year is now
accomplished in less than a month.

The discovery that comets of the smaller type are so
numerous is, however, important in itself, though none of
the small comets recently discovered have presented any
features of interest. Whatever theory is eventually
accepted respecting comets must give an account of then-
great numbers, and it will be found that this is a criterion
of no slight significance. Combined with what has ah-eady
been discovered regarding comets and meteors (the kinsfolk
of comets), this discovery goes far in my opinion to indicate
the true origin and meaning of these interesting bodies.

The trouble about comets and meteors of late has been
that the students of astronomy seem unable to keep count
at one and the same time of all the known facts. They
insist on starting theories which will account excellently for
this or that fact, but are manifestly inconsistent with other
facts as well established.

Thus Schiaparelli, noting that some comets have orbits
passing near the orbits of one or other of the giant planets,
suggests that the giant planets have from time to time cap-
tured comets or meteor systems which, before that last
unfortunate visit of theirs to our solar system when Jupiter
or Saturn or Uranus or Neptune captured them, had been
wandering about unattached to any system through inter-
stellar space. The theory le;ives far the larger number of
comets and meteor systems unaccounted for, it gives no real
account even of the origin of those which exhibit the pecu-
liarity it strives to explain, and, as a matter of fact, the
giant planets have been proved to be quite incapable of
playing the part assigned to them. But for these defects
the theory would perhaps be acceptable enough.

Again, Prof. Newton, of Yale, noting that meteor
streams ti'avel in the tracks of comets, advances the theory
that meteors have been, as it were, chipped oft' from comets.
But as meteors present peculiarities of structure by no
means explained by this theory, a-s a comet must exist
before meteors can be chipped from it, and as the cluppLng
process is mechanically impossible, this theory also is open
to some slight objections.

Then again, Tscliermak, noting the resemblance of struc-
ture between meteorites and volcanic products suggests that
meteoi-s of all orders (which would include meteor streams,
and therefore comets) were shot out from the earth in days
when she was young. But though this is better than the
other theories, in at least suggesting some sort of an origin
for comets and meteors, it will not account for comets which
never come witliin many millions of miles of the earth's
orbit, and a theory which fails for some among the comets
cannot be the true general theory for meteors either.

Mr. Sorby, of Sheffield, the eminent mineralogist, deduced
from the microscopic structure of certiiin meteorites the
startling theory that they had once been inside the sun ; for
there is evidence that their substance once existed in the

* Reprinted from the -Vtvc lurk H'orld,

form of globules of molten metal, which aggregated into
large masses, which in turn were exposed to violent friction,
indicating conflicting motions at very high velocities.
" W^here else," wrote Sorby, in 1864, " could such conditions
exist, except fii-st in the interior, and afterwards in the
immediate neighbourhood of our sun ? " But it is absolutely
certain that the theory as thus suggested cannot possibly be
true, either as a general explanation of meteoi's and comets,
or even as an explanation of any known meteor system or
comet, unless, perhaps, a few of the comets whose orbits
pass very near the sun were sunborn, and subsequently dis-
turbed by planetary attractions so as not to return to
their parent orb. A flight of meteors, shot out from the
sun, as Sorby suggested, might have velocity enough to get
away from him for ever, in which case we should never see
a ti-ace of it again, not though we waited for millions of
years. If, however, it could not get away, then it must
return to its starting-place — that is, back to the sun's globe
— unless, passing near enough to one of the giant planets, it
were so far disturbed as only to return grazing by past the
sun's surface. (The comets of 1843, 1880, and 1882, which
all had the same orbits near the sun, almost grazing his
surface, may well have been parts of a single meteor-flight
•shot out from his interior millions of years ago.)* As a
general theory, this fails like the others.

Better, though still failing as a general theory, is that
suggested by Graham, of London, to account for the large
quantitie,s of hydrogen " occluded " within the substance of
certain iron meteoi-s, and by Daubree, the French physicist,
to account for the volcanic structure of meteorites.
According to theii- theory, meteors, and therefore comets,
were shot forth from the interior of stars. As Graham put
it, " the iron meteors have brought to us, across the inter-
stellar depths, the hydrogen of the fixed stars." And
Daubree, by ari-anging meteorites into their several orders,
and showing how volcanic products may be similarly
arranged in a series including all the forms found in
meteorites, extended the theory of stellar origin to include
all orders of meteors. Yet are there fatal objections against
this, at any rate, as a general theoiy. It leaves unexplained
the peculiai'ity which Schiaparelli had tried to interpret —
the strange tendency among certain comets to hang about
the orbits of the giant planets. Moreover, now that the
meteor streams crossing our earth's track are numbered by
hundreds, a theory which explained all meteoi-s as sprung
from the stars woidd indicate an inconceivably immense
number of meteor sti-eams within oui" solar system to
account for our earth's track crossing so many.

To get at the true general theory of comets and meteors
we must combine what is sound in all these theories, since
the true theory must accord with all the known facts. This
is what the theory I have maintained during the past few
years actually does, and that is why, so far from admitting
that it is a daring theory, I regard the others as overbold
(running " a travers " known facts, as they all do) and
mine as cautious and modest, startling though its fimdamental
idea may seem.

All comets and meteors, according to my theory, are sun-
born. But it is not to om- own sun, with Sorby, nor to
those other suns, the stars, with Graham and Daubree, that
I attribute all comets and meteor systems. Many millions
have come doubtless from our sun during the many millions
of years he has been a sun, though few of his cometic
children are known to teirestrial astronomers. Millions of

* Since this appeared it has been announced that the new comet
discovered in the Southern skies is also following in the same track —
confirming my theory that the comets of 1668, 1813, 1880, and 18S2,
were parts of 'one large comet, dissipated, doubtless, millions of
years ago.

136

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[Aphh, 1, 1887.

millions have come from the many millions of suns in our
galaxy during the many millions of years of their sunlike
existence. But the giant planets were once suns, and in
their sunlike state, which must have lasted millions of
yeiirs, they must have ejected their smaller comets and
meteor systems, which even now after millions of years have
paths passing near the orbits of their parent orbs. Our
earth and her fellow terrestrial planets had their sunlike
stage of life, too, and it must have been while the earth was
a sun that the meteors explained specially by Tschermak's
theory were expelled.

All the known facts correspond with the general theory
thus pre,sented ; nor can any fact be noted which even intro-
duces a difficulty, though of coiu-se it is very easy, as some
astronomers in America have recently shown, to point out
that comets and meteors whose interpretation belongs to
one part of my theory cannot be well explained if we try to
interpret them by another part.

Lastly the only sunlike body we can study, our own
sun, has been caught in the very work of ejection which
this theory assigns to sunlike bodies.

THE ORIGIN OF MOUNTAINS.*

3HE " delightful uncertainty of science " forms
one of its chief charms to the candid mind,
as the absolute iixity of dogma forms its
main recommendation to stupidly conserva-
tive and unprogressive intellects. Dull
people like to be told a thing once for all,
and to stick to it thenceforth and for ever
with a Chinese invariability, an immovable
stolidity as of the Medes and Persians. Intelligent people
modify their opinions in accordance with new facts or new
aspects of events as soon as these are brought to their notice.
Geology (on its dynamic side at least) is still to a great
extent in that plastic stage where great modifications may
yet be expected, and where a corresponding modifiability
of opinion is therefore most necessary to every student.
Mr. Mellard Reade's book on the origin of mountains is a
splendid examp'e of the sort of shaking our preconceived
ideas may any day suffer. We do not say he has entirely
upset all our current notions about the growth of mountain
i-anges ; we must wait to assert that tUl his theory has
been thoroughly sifted and debated and fought over, as it
will be, by all the competent specialists in his chosen science.
But we do say he has administered a rousing dose of vigorous
scepticism, and submitted the accepted theory on the subject
to a powerful solvent, which leaves us at least in an attitude
of suspended judgment, with a distinct inclination towards
Air. Eeade's own way of thinking.

The theory of the origin of mountain chains at present in
vogue — the theory more or less supported, hypothetically at
least, by the great names of Lyell and Geikie — refers them
in the last resort to tangential strains, regarding them
essentially as ridges due to the compression induced in the
rigid outer crust of the globe by a shrinkage of the heated
nucleus within. This theory Mr. Reade subjects to a very
thorough and crushing criticism. He insists upon applying
to it strict arithmetical and mathematical tests, and shows,
we venture to believe, most surprising flaws in the reasoning
by which it has hitherto been sustained. Briefly put, the
result of his investigation, on the destructive side, is to prove
that no shrinkage sufficient for the purpose exists, and that
the greatest conceivable shrinkage would be quite inadequate

» " The Origin of Mountain Ranges." By T. Mellard Reade, C.E.
(London : Taylor & Francis. 1886.)

for the production of the effects ordinal ily attributed to it.
The leasoning in this controversial portion of his work,
however, is so close and condensed that it hardly admits of
presentation in a brief summary. Readers must turn for
information to the work itself. On the constructive side,
Mr. Reade opposes to the orthodox theory a new and most
plausible hypothesis of his own. He begins by showing
that periods of great sedimentary deposit precede the birth
of every large mountain chain. Now Babbage proved long
ago that an addition of sediment to any part of the earth's
crust must raise the temperature of the subjacent mass
which it covers and encumbers. The " isogeotherm " or
line of equal temperature will therefore rise, and by a series
of reactions, which Mr. Reade describes in full detail, will
produce immediate results by expanding the new sedimen-
taries in every possible direction. But the tendency to
expand horizontally is checked, of course, by the rigid mass
of the earth's crust bounding the locally heated area. The
heated area is, therefore, forced to expand vertically alone,
and to form those ridging-ups of the surface which we
know as mountain ranges. Mr. Reade, being himself a
civil engineer of considerable experience, has experimentally
determined the mechanical efl'ects of expansion by heat on
bars of various sandstones, marbles, and other like mate-
lials, and has proved that stone does actually ridge up
under such circumstances so as to produce miniature moun-
tain ranges. Being also an accomplished geologist, he has
applied his theory to the explanation of large classes of
facts in dynamical geology ; he accounts for the foldings of
strata, the repacking of beds, and the production of faults,
in a way which is certainly ingenious and appears to possess
much plausibility as well. The thing hangs together with
notable verisimilitude. His whole theory, indeed, pro-
ceeds upon the now familiar line of puiutiug out the vast
cumulative effects of comparatively small and unobtrusive
factors. As an example of the quantitative efl'ect of a rise
of temperature in a given area and depth of rock he takes a
district of five hundred miles in length by five hundred in
breadth. The crust to a depth of twenty miles beneath
this comparatively small district would comprise five
million cubic miles of rocky material. If this mass
were heated to a mean of 1,000° Fahr. — a temperature
which, says Mr. Reade, must have occurred over and over
again in the local heating of the earth's crust — there would
be an increase of volume to the extent of 52,135 cubic
miles, which excess must necessarily rise in the arched or
vaulted form of a mountain chain. Enormous as this result
may appear at first sight, the block of crust here postulated
is nevertheless only the j.yl^^Tf pai't of the solid matter of
the whole globe. The mountain chain thus produced would
be indeed but a very insignificant one ; the vast masses of
sedimentary deposit out of which have been formed and
carved the Alps, the Andes, the Rocky Mountains, and the
Himalayas are spread out over enormously larger and wider
areas. The greatest of mountain ranges indeed are but
trifling excrescences upon the outer surface of our third-rate
planet.

It would be premature to pronounce dogmatically upon
the truth or error of Mr. Reade's startling hypotheses.
They must be tested by time, and verified or disproved by
the long and careful observations of working geologists.
But whether true or not, there can be no doubt at all of
their fundamental importance, their singular originality,
their admirable elaboration, and the skill and ability with
which they have been worked out and presented to our
minds. His doctrine, in fact, is simply revolutionary. If
he succeeds in convincing others, he will have altered our
entire conception of dynamical geology. If he does not
succeed, he will at least have aroused a wholesome scepticism

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

137

and a ferment of inquiry which cannot fail to elicit fresh
truths upon this difficult line of investigation. It is long
since geological literature has bsen enriched by so able, so
philosophical, and so profound a work.

(go sissip*

By Richard A. Peoctoe.

A CLERICAL reader asks me to insert these notes on my
article on " The Beginning of Christianity." " They do not
deal," he remarks, " with debateable matters or interpreta-
tions, but with simple facts " : —

1. The Gospel of St. John does not contain a word bearing on
the Qaartodeciman dispute, though, strange to say, it is a not
uncommon notion that it does.

2. In the wholesale rejection of all but five of the books of the
Xew Testament too are not dealing with " ascertained facts," but
accepting unreservedly the aggregate of theories supported by
various critics, who display among themselves huge differences of
opinion.

As to the second note, I remark that, in the article referred
to, I have not accepted unreservedly or otherwise the
opinion of Baur. I expressly spoke of those five books
of the New Testament as proved to have been really
written by those whose names are associated with them,
which by no means implies any opinion as to the remaining
portions of the New Testament. But elsewhere I have
undoubtedly conveyed as mine the opinion that the three
first Gospels cannot possibly have been written by those
whose names they bear. It requires no study of Strauss or
Baur, or other kindred critics, to find the clearest traces in
the Gospels named after Luke and Mark that they belong to
the beginning of the second century. The Gospel according
to Matthew may have been in existence nearly in its present
form as early as 80 a.d., while those passages in which
reference is made to the second coming of Christ must have
been written (and possibly by Matthew) shortly before the
fall of Jerusalem — say somewhere between GO a.d. and
70 A.D. By the time the second Gospel (by which I mean
Luke's not Mark's) was written, it had become clear that
the expectation of the approaching end of the world which,
whether he had held it himself or not, Christ had certainly
aroused in the minds of his followers (assuming as much of
the narrative as we possibly can to be historical) had been
delusive. The Gospel according to Mark is so manifestly
compiled from the other two that its date must be set later
than theirs. The only reason for setting it before the
Gospel according to Luke would seem to have been some
idea of explaining the opening words of the last-named
narrative — though still leaving those words open to an ex-
ception akin to that suggested by BiondeUo, since Matthew
and ilark, though they may be more than one, are yet not
many.

ily clerical critic's first note touches as little on what I
actually wrot3 as his second. I certainly never suggested
that the writer, or (if Arnold is right) the compilers, of the
fourth Gospel wrote one word bearing on the Quartodeciman
controversy. In the progress of that controversy, as every
student of the history of e;irly Christianity knows, many
subjects were dealt with besides the altogether paltry
Quartodeciman question itself. I write away from my
books, being in the midst of the petroleum region of Penn-
sylvania on a lecturing tour, and am therefore unable to
give details with all the accuracy I should desire. But I
think I am right in saying that Polycarp, somewhere about
the years 1G.3, 166 (he was killed in 167), took part in the

Gnostic controversy against Talentinus and Marcion.
IreniBus, unless I mistake, mentions that Polyairp quoted
against the Gnostics the words of John the Apostle. And
it is certain that Justin, somewhat earlier (he was killed in
164), did not quote John in favour of Gnosticism. Yet the
Gospel according to John is not only obviously not by John,
and not in the slightest degree " according to " the intensely
anti-Pauline John of the Apocalypse, but is ably and power-
fully Gnostic. Throiighout the period during which the
Quartodeciman controversy was in progress, the authority
of the fourth Gospel in favour of Gnosticism would have
been repeatedly quoted had the Gospel then been recognised
as canonical — nay, had it even existed. The "Fragment
of Muratori " showed that it existed very soon after, and
the Gnostics took care that it should quickly be recognised
as of authority. But the fact that Polycarp had quoted
John the Apostle against the Gnostics can never be recon-
ciled with the alleged authorship of the fourth Gospel —
apart from the obvious difference between the ideas of its
writer and those of the writer of the Apocalypse.

* * *

Of course the evidence is also clear that the fourth Gospel
could not have been written by a Jew. To mention but one
striking proof of the foreign authorship, the three oldest
original manuscripts have " Bethany beyond Jordan " where
the later writers ingeniously substituted " Bethabara."
Now, as Matthew Arnold points out (I think in his " God
and the Bible "), a Jew would be about as likely to speak
of " Bethany beyond Jordan " as an Englishman to speak
of " ^Yillesden beyond Trent," Bethany being a suburb of
Jerusalem, and Jerusalem not within twenty miles of the
Jordan.

* * *

The actual Quartodeciman controvei-sy related, of course,
to the absurdly trivial question whether Easter Day should
be wholly determined by the Jewish Passover, or so far
regulated by Christian rules as to fall always on Sunday.
On this matter the Eastern and Western Churches took
opposite sides, and adhered to their opposite opinions with
a resolution worthy of a better cause. The fourth Gospel
only indirectly suggests any opinion on the question. The
writer, whoever he may have been, always speaks of Jewish
ceremonials like a Gentile, not like a Jew ; and we may
infer that his opinion on the great Fourteenth Day con-
troversy would have been in favoirr of the decision adopted
by the Eastern Church, according to which the strictly
Jewish usage was abandoned in favour of a half-Jewish,
half-Christian compromise.

The following letter has been addressed to the publishers
of Knowledge by another clerical correspondent : —

In the last number of Ksowledse there is an article on the
" Beginning of Chri-stianity," by Mr. K. A. Proctor, in which the
following passage occurs : —

" Even so strange a circumstance as the crucifying of three per-
sons, of whom two died but the third was restored to life, actually
happened to the knowledge of Josephus, who describes the event in
the most natural manner ; but it happened long after the time of
Pontins Pilate, and the three who were crucified were Josephus's
personal friends."

Would you have the goodness to ask Mr. Proctor his authority for
saying this ?

On the event referred to Josephus writes thus : —

" Now there was about this time Jesus, a wise man, if it be
lawful to call him a wise man, for he was a doer of wonderful
works, a teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure.
He drew over to him both many of the Jews and many of the
Gentiles. He was [the] Christ. And when Pilate, at the suggestion
of the principal men among us, had condemned him to the cross,
those that loved him at the first did not forsake him : for he

138

KNOWLEDGB ♦

[April 1, 1887.

appeared to tliem alive again the third day, as the divine prophets
had foretold these and ten thousand other wonderful things con-
cerning him. And the tribe of Christians, so named from him, are
not extinct at this day." (Book x\'iii. chap. iii. of the small edition
of Whiston's translation of Josephus.)

* * *•

The pas.sage here quoted is the now notorious interpola-
tion, too clumsily managed to deceive any, since it contra-
dicts the whole tenor of Josephus's writing.s in regard to
the promised Messiah, and, indeed, makes Josephus's whole
life self- contradictory. Even Canon Farrar, whose recepti-
vity in such matters is remarkable, says of the passage, it is
" interpolated if not wholly spurious"; and again, "Jose-
phus did not choose to make any allusion to facts which
were even remotely connected with the life of Christ." (See
Farrar's "Life of Christ," chap. vi. .3.)

* * *

The passage to which I referred runs thus : —

" As I came back " (from Tcokoah) " I saw many captives cruci-
fied, and remembered three of them as my former acquaintance. 1
was very sorry at this in my mind, and went witli tears in my eyes
to Titus and told him of them ; so he immediately commanded them
to be taken down, and to have the greatest care taken of them, in
order to their recovery ; yet two of them died under the physician's
hands, while the third recovered."

*

*

My " authority " for this is Josephus (see edition above
mentioned, " Life of Josephus," section 75). It should be
remembered that this account of the resuscitation of one of
three crucified persons, under the care of Joseph the
Asamonean, was published at least a quarter of a century
before the account in the Gospel " ncrording to Matthew," of
how Joseph the Arimathean went to Pilate and begged for
the body of Jesus, that one of three crucified persons who.'^e
restoration to life that Gospel records.

* * *

Not ten years have passed since Brigham Young died.
Hundreds saw him dead, and all the circumstances of his
last illness and death are known. It will h.ardly be believed
that in the.se matter-of-fact days the believers in Young, as
chief of the Latter Day Saints, assert that he is now alive
again.

* * *

Since Mr. Boss started, and Professor Piazzi Smyth
adopted, the mistake into which several others (I being
one) rather naturally fell, of regarding the comet of 1882
as the same body as the comets of 1880, 1843, and 16G8, I
have maintained the probability that all these comets were
originally one, which was dissipated into several com-
ponents long ago, and that more fragments may still arrive.
It seems as though the large comet recently discovered con-
firms the justice of this suggestion, for it is travelling in
the same track near the sun as was followed by the comets
of 1668, 1843, 1880, and 1882.

I RECENTLY had occasion to note, in connection with this
same comet of 1882, a curious illustration of the unfair
way in which men are apt to be treated who announce and
correct their own mistakes as freely as they would those
they had detected in the work of others. It was, as is well
known, Mr. Boss in America who, immediately after the
discovery of the comet of 1882, started the idea that it was
the comet of 1880 and 1S43 comeback again. Professor
Piazzi Smyth eagerly seized the notion, because it confirmed,
as he thought, his belief that the end of the world was to
be brought about at this time, the second coming of Christ

(which Christ himself, according to the Gospels, regarded as
" the end of the world "), being definitely announced by the
grand gallery of the Pyramid of Cheops, for July 1882.
But others fell also into the error, at that time a very
natural one, of supposing that the practical identity of the
perihelion parts of those comets' orbits implied the identity
also of the comets. I was one of these ; Mr. Hind, of the
Nautical Almanac, was another. I was the first to point
out that we had been deceived. The coincidence in ques-
tion could not be accidental ; btit also it could not be
explained as we had endeavoured to explain it.

* * *

But because I, being neither the first nor the second to fall
into a certain very natural mistake, was the first to indicate its
nature (and have been alone, to the best of my knowledge,
in carefully announcing and correcting it), it appears that
many have fallen into the bj' no means natural error of
supposing that to me belongs the chief discredit, such as it
may be, for making the original mistake. Recently, an
ardent admirer of Professor Smyth's pyramidal theories,
having occasion to fall foul of me because I regard the
stone bible theory of the pyramid as erroneous (to begin
with, and a trifie blasphemous, to goon with), took occasion
in a magazine of his, called Ford's ChriHian Jie])osit07y, to
proclaim lustily that my opinion need not be regarded as of
any weight, since I had made this particular error, whereof
he spoke as of a blunder by which I had notoriously in-
curred discredit. Of course, this gave one some interesting
amusement in opening the Rev. Mr. Ford's highly Christian
optics, by fir.st showing how imimportant the mistake really
was, and then mentioning casually that, such as it was, his
protr'r/e, Professor Smyth, had had much more to do with its
adoption than I had. But I venture to insist that while
making mistakes proves (according to the true saying of
Liebig) that a man's mind is fecund — the man who makes
no mistakes being necessarily a dullard — acknowledging a
mi.stake frankly, fully, and early, should engender con-
fidence not doubt in the man who has thus erred and
admitted it.

* * *

" Show me a man who has made no mistakes," said
Liebig, " and I will show you a man who has discovered
nothing." Show me a man, I would add, who has never
acknowledged a mistake, and I will show you one who,
unless he be one of Liebig's dullards, is dishonest and
untruthful. He has done more harm to science by bad
example than could be repaid by any number of brilliant
discoveries.

* * *

It is strange how weak some men are about this matter
of recognising and admitting error. Unfortunately the
weaklings in this respect judge others by themselves. I
have a friend (supposing I have not lest him of late) who
up to some ten years since scarcely let a month pass with-
out some noteworthy discovery, and whose work therefore I
never tired of dwelling upon with enthusiasm. But during
the last ten years or so he has announced no discoveries of
any interest (if any at all), and naturally I have been silent.
A year ago I went so far as to suggest, with complimentary
reference to his past achievements, a hope that we should
soon hear of others as noteworthy — e.sj)ecially as he has
been placed in charge of a much more powerful telescope
than he formerly had. Ever since, he has laboured under
the truly amazing idea that I no longer praise his work
because he has not yet accepted my theory of comets and
meteors ! Among those who read these lines there must I
think be many thousands who within the last year have

April 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE

1-39

read and heard many enthusiastic words of mine in regard
to this erst earnest observer's work in the past. Let him
give me any new work to " enthuse " over, and he will
quickly see whetlier I am colder than of yore.

* * *

Rather amusingly, I read within a few hours of sending
off my remarks on '■ Pr:z; Competitions " a cablegram in the
2f^(w York World mentioning two lists of "Forty" drawn up
by readers of the P<dl Mall Gazette, in one of which my own
name is included. I do not learn from the paragraph
whether anything in the circumstances may make these
lists of Forty entirely imaginary Academicians difter from
those on which I have commented. But, in any ease, I
must fully and unaffectedly disclaim all pretensions to any-
thing even tending towards the " celebrity " supposed to be
suggested by such lists as these. Except my treatise on
" Saturn," which has reached few, mj' still more fascinating
" Geometry of the Cycloids," which has reached fewer, and
one or two atlases which are. I hope, useful, everything I
have yet published has merely indicated the course those
studies of mine have taken, which I hope to embody in a
treatise on a.stronomy now nearly a quarter of a century in
preparation. Either my name illustrates very effectively
the argument in my paper on " Prize Competitions," or it
has been added to these lists by way of a joke — unless some
few have seen, very far ahead, the real purport of my in-
quiries in astronomical matters.

* * *

A CORKESPONDEXT informs us that Mr. Henrj- L. Ward,
a rising young naturalist of Rochester, N.Y., has recently
secured several specimens of the West-Indian seal [Jfonachus
trojnca) which had long been thought extinct.

* * *

From Punch the facetious (!) — ■

Lilly writes brightly

In the i'ortnigJitly,

Meaning sharp Huxley to settle ;

Huxley looks silly.

Finding his Lilly

Turns out a stinging-nettle.

Mr. Lilly is a Roman Catholic, so is Mr. Burnand, editor
of Punch, author of " Happy Thoughts " and other philo-
sophical works; hence Mr. Burnand's fitness to judge and
impartiality of judgment.

itlrbiftDS!*

Bacox axd ilODERS SciEXCE. — Whatever debt the world of
science may owe to Bacon, it was not the invention of the method
of research by which all great discoveries in science from long
before Bacon's time till now have been effected. Yet, if we are
asked in what way Bacon helped the progress of science, and in
what degree, our answer must speak very strongly in his favour,
though we must reject the false notions commonly entertained.
Unquestionably Bacon's two great works, the " Instauratio Magna "
and the '• Novum Organum," gave an immense impulse to the de-
velopment of science in England — not by their influence on scien-
tific workers and thinkers, not five in a hundred of whom have
ever studied those works, but by the general attention which they
directed to the prevalent faults of the methods in vogue when they
were written. A f.alse syllogistic system, applied to imperfect or
insufficient evidence, offended justly the clear mind of Bacon: he
attacked and overthrew that method, and though he was no student
of science himself, in any true sense of the word, though his ideas
about matters scientific were mostly erroneous and his knowledge
of the science of his day most imperfect, yet by his advocacy of
the true general principle that Nature will reveal her secrets only in
response to sedulous and reiterated inquiries he moved the mass of
thinking men to adopt a truer method of research. They did not
adopt the method carefully defined and described by Bacon ; they
did not even adopt a new method ; but as a body thej' became
disciples of the true school which, when Bacon wrote, had been
exiguous in the extreme.

The Cruise of the March-:sa to Kanuchatht and Xew
Guinea. By F. H. H. Guillesiard, M.A., M.D. (John
Murray.) — These sumptuous volumes are a worthy addition
to the standard works of travel issued from the historic
house in Albemarle Street. Dr. GuHlemard writes in a
clear and animated style ; the scenery which he describes is
brought vividly before us in superbly executed woodcuts
from his photographs, and the route is easily followed by the
aid of many excellent maps. The cruise of the JIarchesa,
an auxiliary screw schooner of 400 tons, extended from
.January 1882 to April 1884, during which period regions,
already known to us through the graphic narratives of Mr.
Alfred Wallace and other explorers, were visited, and con-
cerning which Dr. GtuUemard therefore exercises wise
brevit}', while other regions, less familiar, give ample
employment to his pen. The \oyage, in its scientific
results, was successful, 3,000 specimens of birds and a
large collection of insects being secured, the birds from
Sulu including a hitherto unknown species of bush-
shrike, which is the subject of one of the two richly-
coloured frontispieces. Another find was in New Guinea,
where Dr. Guillemard, whose chief object there was to
procure birds of paradise, had the good fortune to capture
an echidna, or spiny ant-eater, over two feet long, and
therefore larger than its Australian representative. Touch-
ing at Formo.sa, the precipices of which are more imposing
than even the cliffs of the Yosemite valley, and the former
connection of which with North India and Sumatra is
proved by the similarity of its fauna, the Marchesa paid a
flying visit to Japan on her voyage to Kamschfttka.
The chapters on the history, physical character, and fauna
of this peninsula, with its thick forests, its belt of eruptive
volcanoes, the highest of which is nearly 16,000 feet, its far-
extending tundras, its hybrid population so thinly scattered
that the doctors in their long rounds leave the sick physic
eno\igh for a year, and its salmon-snaring rivers, are full of
fresh and entertaiuing matter, the more welcome, as there is
little of adventure wherewith to enliven the volumes. The
visit to New Guinea was confined to its Dutch or western
half, and such fragmentary notes as are given concerning
the mop-headed Papuans and their customs and beliefs are
useful additions to our scanty knowledge of an island which
has yet to be fulh' explored. The houses built on the piles
by the waterside, the holes in their flooring for the refuse to
be thrown away, and the curious crescent head-rests, which
latter occiu- in Egypt and elsewhere, give reality to the
ancient life of the lake dwellers described by Herodotus,'
and reconstructed in Dr. Keller's researches. But enough
has been said to commend Dr. Guillemnrd's volumes to our
readers.

An Arctic Provine3 : Alaska and the Seal Islands.
By H. W. Elliott. (Simpson Low & Co.) — Kamschatka
is the land of the sable and the salmon ; Alaska of the fur
seal. Twenty years ago the United States of America
gave Russia seven million dollars for the territory of
Alaska, a land of bewildering indentations, endless coast-
line fringed with thousands of islands and islets, beaten by
wind and waves, scaiTed by volcanic eruptions, enveloped
in persistent fog, and cursed by mosquitoes — a region so
gloomy that " the good Bishop Veniaminov, when he first
came among the natives of the Aleutian Islands, ordered the
curriculum of hell to be omitted from the church breviary,
saying, as he did so, that those people had enough of it
here on earth." Mr. Elliott's volume is encyclopajdic in
its details of the features of this desolate, pitiless land, and
of hfe among the Indians whose rancheries, each with its

140

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[April 1, 1887.

oddly-carved post displaying the totem of the owner, are
grouped into more or less permanent settlements near the
great fishing-grounds, every village being governed by its
unwritten code, disobedience to which lays the offender open
to reprisals by the offended. Though the forests teem with
animal life, goats, deer, and grouse, the natural indolence
of the native limits him to the easier work of fishing, except
where the high prices offered by the white traders for the
prized skins of the rapidly-diminishing sea-otter tempt the
hunters to its exciting and hazardous pursuit. The most
interesting and valuable chapters are those which describe
the fur-bearing animals of the Priliylov Islands, a volcanic
group in Bering Sea. The most highly organised of these
creatures is the fur-seal, " indeed, when land and water are
weighed in the account together, there is no other animal
known to man which may be truly classed as its superior
from a purely physical point of view." Mr. Elliott writes
with the authority of an expert, and the account which he
gives of the several species of pinnipeds found in the seas
round Alaska is very complete, while his chapter on the
struggle between the males for possession of the breeding-
grounds, or " rookeries," as they are called, supplies im-
portant evidence in favour of Darwin's theory of sexual
selection. We regret that space prevents quotation from his
graphic account of the terrible combats between the bulls
for the few feet of rock on which they await the coming of
the cow-seals, the average number of which in the harems
is from twelve to fifteen. Altogether, this is an honest and
veracious book, though somewhat laboured in style, and
with illustrations of unequal merit. It should be read in
conjunction with Dr. Guillemard's volumes as dealing with
countries in close contiguity.

The Factors of Organic Evolution. By Herbert Spencer.
(Williams k Norgate.) — This is a reprint, with additions,
from the ±{ineteenth C'enlur)/ of April and May last. It is
intended to be supplemental to Mr. Darwin's theory, and
we may call special attention to the sections treating of the
general and constant operation of surrounding agencies on
the organism, and of the direct action of the medium as the
primordial factor of organic evolution. The following
extract gives the gist of Mr. Spencer's argument : — ■

In the primorrlial units o£ protoplasm, the step with wliich
evolution commenced must have been the passage from a state of
complete likeness throughout the mass to a state in which there
existed some unlikeness. Further, the cause of this step in one of
tliese portions of organic matter, as in any portion of inorganic
matter, must have been the ditferent exposure of its parts to incident
forces. What incident forces ? Those of its medium or environ-
ment. Which were the parts thus differently exposed ? Necessarily
the outside and inside.

Sonnets on Nature and Science. By S. Jefferson.
(Fisher Unwin.) — Among the many themes which inspire
the author's limping muse are the Amicba, Seismic force,
the Equinoctial gales, the Nebular Hypothesis, and the
Luminiferous Ether. Concerning this last the poet sings : —

No chemist knows of what this gas consists,
The physicist its minute waves may count.

And trace their course across the deep profound.

For science can but say that it exists,
That, almost infinite in its amount.

It fills the wide extent of Cosmos round.

Slightly altering a quotation from Lord Byron, we may
safely predict that Mr. Jeffer.son's .sonnets will be re.ad
when Wordsworth and Shelley are forgotten — but not till
then.

Evolution and Creation. By H. J. Hardwicke, M.D.
(Purton Lodge, Sheffield; published by the Author.) — Dr.
Hardwicke is for the most part his own printer and artist,
and the result is more or less a hotch-potch. The un-

attractive look of this volume should not, however, afTect
our judgment of its contents, the essays on " Man's Anti-
quity " and the " Evolution of Mind " bsing well and clearly
written. In his remarks on the " Evolution of the God
Idea " Dr. Hardwicke is a less tru.stworthy guide, his
philology, e.g. the discussion on the word God, being un-
sound, and his leading authorities more or less discredited.

Essentials oj Ilistologi/. By E. A. Schafer, F.R.S.
(Longmans.) — Histology is the science which treats of the
minute structure of tissues and organs, and Prof. Schiifer's
work is written with the double object of serving as an
elementary text-book of histology and of supplying the
student with directions for microscopical examination of
tissues. The work, in onr judgment, is complete both in its
exposition of the subject and in its instructions to students,
while the illustrations, both borrowed and oi'iginal, are
admirable.

Societij in the Elizabethan Age. By Hubert Hall.
(Swan Sonnenschein & Co.) — Mr. Hall has made indus-
trious use of his official connection with the Public Record
Office to collect material from its stores for social sketches
of England three hundred years ago. But, in place of a
broad sketch of the town and counti-y life of that period,
such as the title of his book leads us to expect, Mr. Hall
gives a series of representative portraits, comprising the
landlord and tenant, the courtier and bishop, the civil
servant, lawyer, and burgess of the time. On the whole,
this method of isolation is disappointing, causing the work
to lack both cohesion and perspective. With such materials
to work upon, Mr. Hall could not fail to bi-ing together
many curious and interesting items, from which the pens of
more ready writers may elaborate a worthy picture of the
England of Elizabeth. The volume is prefaced by an
admirable map of London from Cheapside to " St. Jemes
Park."

The Folk Songs of Itahj. By Miss B. H. Busk. (Swan
Sonnenschein & Co.) — The accomplished authoress of " The
Folk Lore of Rome " — of which scarce book a reprint would
be welcome — now brings from her treasury, in which the
collections of twenty years are garnered, specimens of folk
songs from all parts of Italy, the place of honour being
given to the songs of Sicilj'. Like the Volhdieder in
Germany, they fill the Italian air, although Miss Busk
utters the old lament that the songsters of every degree,
from the prima donna to the peasant, are daily becoming
rarer. " The old folk rhymes, which are nearly always
the utterance of pure and holy affection, are now only met
in counti-y nooks ; the townspeople, if they sing at all,
are provided with another class of songs which wo should
not care to read." The more important .and praiseworthy,
therefore, is the task which INIiss Busk has valorously under-
taken— a task the difficulty of which, in the face of the
.seven hundred dialects in which the songs exist, is enormous.
The principles which have governed her in selecting and trans-
lating are set forth in the Preface, which explains the
leading features of the several classes of songs, and is
enriched with a pathetic sketch of Beatrice Bugelli, one of
the latest peasant poets. Miss Busk has earned the
gratitude of all lovers of lyrical verse and folk-lorists for
this delightful and daintily-printed little volume.

Tales of the Caliph. By Al Arawiyah. (Fisher Un-
win.)— A series of ingenious tales relating adventures sup-
posed to have happened to the C'aliph Haroun Al Raschid,
or to persons whom he met in his usual night i-ambles
incognito. No claim of derivation from original Oriental
sources is made on behalf of these tales, hence the absence
of strict fidelity to local colouring. The last story is
amusing, although the idea is not novel. The unlucky

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

141

possessor of a magic tube, peeps into which reveal the
future, describes a vision of telegraphs and railways to the
Caliph, who, enraged at his monstrous inventions, orders
him to immediate execution.

She. By H. Rider Haggard. (Longmans.)—" She "
already numbers its readers by thousands ; it has provoked
a parody in which the deft hand that wrote " Much Darker
Days " is traceable, and, moreover, an explanation from Mr.
Rider Haggard of the esoteric teaching of the wonderful
story. We confess that we do not greatly care to know that
the lessons intended to be conveyed in the aireer of Ayesha
are the deathlessness of deep love and " the probable effects
of immortality working upon the known and ascertained
substance of the mortal," Ayesha's insolent menace against
Omnipotence, as her hardness and cynicism grow with the
creeping centuries, being punished by the terrible fate
described in the story. The fertility of invention charac-
terising " She ' delights and enthralls u.s, and, moral or no
moral therein, we read it with interest that deepens as the
tale advances to the awful sequel . But Job, who is intended
as a comic set-oif against the graver characters, is an irritant,
and the story would gain by his removal.

Books and Bookmen. By Andrew Lang. (Longmans.) —
Books about books have a perennial charm, and bibliophiles
may without hesitation accord Mr. Lang's new volume
brevet rank as a worthy comrade with his former book on
" The Library," and with Dr. Hill Burton's classic " Book-
Hunter." The book collector is on a lower plane than the
lover of litei-ature, to whom the form is nothing, the spirit
everything. But although the accident and not the essence,
the clothing and not the soul, make the book dear to the
collector, his functions are more useful than his intentions,
since his care for the lesser secures the preservation of the
greater. Mr. Lang, we need scarcely say, does not value
books for their externals alone, and in the limits which he
has set himself gossips in chatty, learned fashion, the learning
being dropped in in his happy allusive way, about the true
and spurious in the famed Elzeviis; about the art of the
old bindei-s, notably the French ; about title-pages, quaint
specimens of which are given in facsimile : and then wanders
oif to gossip on parish registers and literary forgeries. To
the volume is added a reprint on " Japanese Bogie Books,"
from tlie .Magazine of Art, with gruesome illustrations of a
storm-fiend and a well-and-water bogie, limp and washed
out, with drooping and dripping arms, perchance a washer
of dead men's linen in the moonlit pools and rivers. Mr.
Lang tells us he has spared our nerves in not venturing to
copy yet more awful specimens of Oriental spectres.

The Arithmetic of Electrical 3lerisurements. ByW. R. P.
HoBBS. (London : Thos. Murby.) — This little book will be
found handy by everyone engaged in the economic applica-
tion of electricity. It contains a large number of numerical
examples of the strength of current, and of resistance pro-
duced by arrangements described in the text. In the outset
an illustrative example or two are worked out at length,
and then a series of questions are set for exerciss.

Ayi Elementar}! Text-book of British Fungi. By Wit.
Delisle Hay, F.R.G.S. (London : Swan Sonnenschein,
Lowrey, & Co. 1887.) — Here is another botanical work,
addressing even a larger pulilic than that of Professor
Strasburger. For the chief end proposed to himself by
Mr. Hay is the description of fungi in their economic aspect
— a subject of great and growing interest to all who wish to
find some chejip nitrogenous substitute for the butcher's
meat which has become so needlessly costly ; to say nothing
of the gourmet, to whom many an unknown and unsus-
pected form of " toadstool " will come as a delicious esculent.
Among the most valuable chapters in the book may be

mentioned the one ou the discrimination of edible fungi ;
that on the chemistrj' and toxicology of fungi ; while in the
Appendix no less than 133 recipss for cooking mushrooms
and other fungi are given. The very numerous engravings
are beautifully executed. If the circulation of this volume
is commensurate with its popular interest, it should surely
be very considerable.

Celestial Motions : A Handy Book oj Astronomy. By
Wm. Thynne Lynx, B.A., F.R.A.S. Fifth edition. (London :
E. Stanford. 1887.) — We need only note here that in this
fifth edition of Mr. Lynn's excellent little book (of which
we have on previous occasions spoken in terms of praise)
the information is brought down to the very latest date,
and that a chapter has been added on the refraction,
propagation, and aberration of light.

God and His Book. By Sal.idix. (London : W. Stewart
k Co.) — By unseemly flippancy, and irrelevant levity,
" Saladin " seriously weakens a case which is, to a con-
siderable extent, irrefutable. Many of his readers who
will be unable to find any valid reply to his objections,
will be repelled by the tone in which they are advanced,
and he will thus excite hostility in some whom a different
style of argument might have converted into allies. Notably
will he rai.se antagonism in cultured students of his book, to
whom his "' chaff" (we can find no more appropriate word than
this slang one for it) will be revolting. There can be no doubt
that the calm, pitiless, unimpassioned mai-shalling of facts in
" Supernatural Religion " has done more to shake the founda-
tions of the faith (or credulity) of thousands who, prior to its
perusal, were models of orthodoxy, than all the irreverent
je.sts of "Colonel" IngersoU and his school put together.
We are the more disposed to regret the general style of the
volume before us when we find — as in one or two of the
chapters towards the end of the book — to what a height of
pathos and real eloquence its author can rise when he
chooses.

The Young Carthaginian; or, A Struggle for Empire.
By G. A. Hextv. (London : Blackie k Son. 1887.)— It
is scarcely an exaggeration to say that this capital story of
Mr. Henty's is the very model of what a boy's book ought
to be. There is not a single dull page out of all its 384,
for it is full of incident from beginning to end. We will
not spoil the enjoyment of any of the thousands of lads who,
we hope and believe, will soon have this volume in their
hands, by anything like a 2jrecis of the stirring adventures
of the young Carthaginian nobleman Malchus, who is the
hero of the tale. SufEce it to say that he nndei-goes a sei-ies
of most exciting ones, which, however, are strictly sequent,
and arise perfectly naturally out of one another. Mr. flenty
has obviously taken great pains to be archa^ologically cor-
rect in all his details, with the result that we seem to see
his characters as living men and women before us, and to be
face to fiice with the dead-and-gone form of civilisation of
2,000 years ago. One thing we may safely predict in con-
nection with the volume before us, and that is that everj-one
who reads it will assuredly go back to his " Cornelius
Xepos," or his " Livy," with a ze.st for information as to
the lives of Hannibal, Hamilcar, and their compeers, to
which, in connection with his former mere " grind," with
the Latin Text and his Dictionary, he was a total stranger.
We have one very trivial fault to find with the book. It is
this, that the illustrations are scarcely worthy of the text.
The only one that seems to us to exhibit much artistic feel-
ing is that facing p. 210.

Studies in Microscopical Science. Edited by Arthur C.
Cole. (Birmingham : Hammond ife Co.). — There is no
falling off in the interest and value of this serial, which we
heartily commend to young biologists. We have also to

141

♦ KNOWLEDGE -

[April 1, 1887.

acknowledge the current issues of The Century and St.
Niclwkis magazines, which maintain their standard of excel-
lence ; IlazdUs Magazine, written chiefly by Messrs. Hazell's
staff, the March number containing a reproduction of an
excellent photograph of Mr. Ruskin ; the Medical Annual
for 1887 ; the first numbers of Dr. Robert Brown's Our
Earth and its Story (Cassell's), which opens attractively and
well; and of the Classical Review (David Nutt) ; Science
and Education ; and Proceedinr/s of American Philosojihical
Society, July 1886. Of the making of school books there is
no end, but the space for their acknowledgment has its
limits. Messrs. Swan Sonnenschein send us a capital Arith-
metic/or Children, by A. E. A. BIair ; from Messrs. Moffat
we have Litters and Themes for Composition, and Drainng
Copies for Standards III. and IV. ; from Messr.s. Relfe
Brothers the Spelling Series of Copy Books, which should
be helpful to correct spelling ; German Exercise aiul Copy
Book and Combination Exercise Book for Analysis and
Parsing. Walford's Antiquarian (Redway) continues to
improve in its sprightly treatment of subjects too long in
the hands of Dr. Dryasdust. Messrs. Smith (t Elder bring
up the rear with a prett}' and compendious reprint, uniform
in style with their pocket edition of Thackeray, of Poems
hy E. B. Broirninif, embodying all the alterations made for
the edition of 18-tG.

#ur CI)es(0 Column,

By " Mepiiisto."

VICISSITUDES OF PAWN AND TWO OPENING.

■M^'tJISiSJHE following two games were recently played in the
Handicap Tournament now progressing at the
British Chess Club. In Game No. 1 the second
player wins ; in Game No. 2 the first player proves
victorious. We print these games together by
way of contrast. In the first game the receiver
of the odds fails to obtain any advantage in the
opening, and soon succumbs to a strong attack,
la the second game the reverse occurs ; tlie odds-
fiver is quite unable to bear up against the advantage gained in
the opening by the receiver of the odds, and has speedily to yield to
inevitable defeat. These apparently contradictory results may,
however, be sufficiently explained by the play of the respective
players. In the first game the receiver of the odds plays the
opening weakly, but the odds-giver fights well : whereas in the
second game the receiver of the odds plays well, but the odds-giver
very indiflierentl}' ; and it is this curious combination of good and
bad play, in reverse order, in both games which has produced corre-
spondingl}' reverse results.

Game No. 1.— Success.
Remove Black s KBP.

■White. Ama'-eur. Black, Mr. Zukertort.

1. P toKt 1. . . .

2. P (o Qt 2. P to K3

3. B to Q:'. 3. P to B4

4. B to K3

As the secjuel shows, this move loses time, by allowing Black to
develop. Either i. V to QB3 or P x P are better than this.

i. P X P

5. B X P ."). Kt to QB3
Black has gained a very important move.

6. B to B3 G. Kt to R3 !

7. Kt to Q2

Kt to KB3 is better ; it prevents P to Kt for the moment.

7. P to Kt

Whenever the odds-giver can safely play P to Kt then he has
already overcome the principal difficultv in this opening.

8. Kt to K2
Weak again.

8. B to Bl

Black is now becoming aggre.'^ive ; he threatens to follow this up
with Kt to KKtS, after which various possibilities of attack would
present themselves either bj- castling or Q to R5, or P to KK(, &c.

9. Pto KR3

Considering the above
precaution.

10. Kt to B3

11. B to Q2
Poor Bishop ! wandering ;

sive spirit of the times.

Taking the best advantage

12. Castles

circumstances, perhaps not an unwise

9. Castles
10. P to Q3

11. Q to Kt3
of White's plav.

12. BxEP!

Black.

1:1 ,

A t

1

£ i

^ , /

-^

i

^

■fiS;

fatal to

White.

This move proves
White's future chances,

13. Kt to B3 13. B to KKt.5

It. Kt to QR4

Either Kt to Q.5 or 15 to K2 were
requisite, it would have prevented
Kt to Q.") hv Black.

11. Q to B2

15. Kt.vB 15. PxKt

IG. Q toB sq. .' IC. B x Kt

17. PxB 17. Kt to Q3
This practically decides the

issue.

18. BxKt 18. PxB

19. Qx P 19. P to B5 :
And Black won in a few moves.

GAME No. 2.— Failure.

Remove Black's KBP.
White, .^m.^teur. Black, ilr. Qunsberg.

1. P toKt

2. P to Qt 2. P to Q3

It is very difficult to follow this move up properly, and any
deviation from the well-known lines of play should particularly be
avoided bv the second plaver.

" 3. B to Q3 " 3. P to K3

3. B to K3 is sometimes plaved here.
i. P to K5 ■ 4. Kt to K2

A weak move, which enables White to develop well. P to KKtS was
now uecessarv.

5."B to KKto ! 3. P to KKt3

6. P to KE4 G. QKt to B3

Pel haps P to Q4 would have provided Black with a loophole for his
K on Q2.

7. P to K5 ! 7. B to KKt (sq)

Black would not play 7. P x P on account of 8. Q x P (ch), K to Q2,
9. P to Q5 1 Then again, 7. Kt x P would likewise result badly for
Black.

8. PxP 8.

9. P to KBi 9.

10. QPxP 10.

11. Ktto QB3 11.
Black having g.ained breathing time does

PxP
I'xP
Q to Q3
Bto Q2
not make the best of it.

Q to Kto would have gained farther time perhaps, and brought the
Q awav.

12. Qto K2 12. Castles

13. Castles 13. Q to Kt5

Black is now compelled to make this move, and lose time bj' doing so.

14. Kt to B3

White brings all his pieces well into play, and docs not hurry his
attack.

14, R to K sq

.\ good move, and the beginning
of a combination well planned
and executed, which speedily turns
the game in White's favour.

15. Kt to B4
This proves loss of time ; there is
nothing but Kt to Kt sq., with the
hope of being able to free his gamu
perh.aps bv B to B3.

IG. Q to Q3 ! IG. Kt to Kt sq.
17. E to h7 I

Taking forcible advantage of the
position

17. Kt to K2
B to Kt2 might perhaps have de-
layed the game longer, bat the
position was bad, as White then threatened 18. P to Kt4, followed by
19. P to QR3, and 20. Kt to KR4, &o.

15

. B to K4

Bl.ACK.

k

1

t

I

%

^

"A

White.

18. Kt to K4

April 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^ATLKDGE ♦

143

The best .' The position is a very curious one. White threatens
more than merely to win a P, for after Itl. Kt x P, Kt x Kt,
20. B X Kt, the Rook has no move. But there are many interesting
variations possible in this position which the reader may examine,
such as i;i. BxP, KtxB. 20. Kt ■ Kt, and the Black B on Q2
cannot move or be defended, as White would mate on Q8. Then
again. Black cannot now play IS. B to B3, as White would reply
with 19. B X P, and the Black knight cannot retake.

IS. P to Bl
For want of a satisfactory move, it avoids the mating possibilities.

19. Pto R3 19. Qto Pa

20. Kt X P 20. KKt to B3

21. Kt X B Resigns.

For if Black retakes, then 22. Pv x B makes the game hopeless for
Black.

Hindoo Cosmogony axd Piivsks. — The Rev. Suman-
galii, chief-priest at Adam's Peak, ia Ceylon, has recently
published an account of the opinions of Hindoo astrono-
nier.s on the form and attraction of the earth. Bhaskara,
who flourished in the twelfth ceutur}', thought that the
terrestrial globe, composed of land, air, water, space, and
fire, had a spherical form, and, surrounded by the planets
and the orbits of the stars, maintained itself in space bj-
its own power. This, he .says, is in fact demonstrated.
Lands, mountains, gardens, and houses cover the earth as
pollen covers the flower of Kadamba, and serve as the
homes of men, Raksa.sas, Devas, and Asuras. He rejected
the idea that the earth rested on anything else, for the
obvious reason that, if another support were needed, there
would be no end to the supplementary supports. There-
fore we shall have to admit a final equilibrium some-
where ; why not accept it at once 1 '■ Is not the earth
one of the forms of Siva ? As heat occurs naturally in the
sun and fire, cold in the moon, fluidity in water, and hard-
ness in the stone, so mobility exists in the air. Every
object has its own properties, and the properties implanted
in some objects are wonderful." Bhaskara believed that
the eiirth, possessing an attractive force, drew to itself
everything heavy in the atmosphere surrounding it, whence
those bodies fall to it. " But," he said, " how could the
earth fall into the ethereal space, since that .space is equal
on all sides 1 "

boldly leadin

f/H.(<

©wv W(Wt Column,

By "Five of Clubs."

ILLUSTRATIVE GAME.

HE following game is sufficiently simjile ; but it
serves to illustrate well the necessity of care in
supporting partner's strategy and attending to
details. Had S misunderstood .i's play in turn-
ing from trumps to his long plain suit, .-l"s purpose
would have been foiled, and, though A~B would
still have come out ahead, the game would have
been misstd. Z could have saved the game by

4's established suit, but only by a .single point.

THE HANDS.
'rumj>ii).— Q, G, 2. S.— A, 10, 8, 7,

D.— K, 8, G, 3.

■'■}

rH. (tps).—K, Kn.

C— 9, 7.
I D.— Q, Kn, 10, n.
LS.— K, Q, Kn, !•, C.

Y Z

Tr. H, !i.

A leads.

A B play against 1" and Z.

H {trumps).— k, 10, 8, 4.
C— A, Q, Kn, 10, 3, 2.

H. (<;«).— 9, 7, 5, 3.
C— K, 6, .5, 4.
D.— A, 9, 7, 2.
S.— 2.

S.— 4, 3.
D.— 5.

--?

Score : — A B none ; T Z none.

— 1—

"^Mh

7 <?

7 9

■7

C; (r-

<? <?

<?

o ■

ti/li

<? <?

'0 <?

NOTES ON THE PLAY.

Card underlined wins trick ; card
underneath leading next.

O 0

0 O

i * j(, J, j>,

I". •!• f f

A^A A A

0 0

♦
0 0

<7 <7

to (?
S 5

1. A i^roperly leads trumps, with
his splendid Club suit, and strength
enough in trumps to give a good
chance of bringing in his long suit.

2. From the return of the Six,
.1 knows that his partner — who
certainly holds the Two (see first
round) — held only three originally.
Hence he sees the minor tonace
in Z'i, hand, and tliat Z must be
led through by B, if possible.

3. 7? now knows that, besides
the second best trump (the trump
card), Z must hold the fourth best.
For, unless A held the major ten-
ace as against the minor tenace,
declared in Z'i hand, A would go
on with trumps.

4. For B to ruff here would
have been very bad play, though
it is what nine out of ten who
imagine they play whist would
have done without hesitation. B
can place all the trumps, and Z's
King will inevitably make some
time or other. But, apart from
that, B can see that ,t's whole
strategy will be ruined unless J's
long suit can be established and
Z led through in trumps. With
Ace of Spades and his well-guarded
Diamond King, B is pretty sure to
get the desired lead.

5. Z should here have seen the
danger of the position, and that
his best chance is to throw the
lead into .4's hand. If B gets a
lead neither of Z'% trumps can
make, so that if A is driven to
force Z, the trick so made will be
clear gain, even if nothing more
is obtained.

6 to the end. The game now
plays itself; and the wisdom of
B's course in refraining from the
tempting ruff at trick 4, or rather
the folly he would have displayed
had he ruffed at that point, is
clearly seen : A-B make five by
cards and the game.

— 2—

If i? had ruffed at trick 4 the game would probably have pro-
ceeded as follows : —

it *. if tf Kf. A

@

0 0
0 0

— n—

'

A
4.— C 10

5.— S 3

6.— S 4

7.— H8

— (! —

8.— CQ

9.— C Kn
10.

-H 10
II.— C 3

12.— C 2
13.— D 4

y

C 9

S 6

S 9
— 1—
S K

D 5

D 10

S Kn

SQ

D Kn

D Q

B
H 2

— 4—

S A

sV

So
D 3
S 8
D 0
S 10
D 8
DK

Z

C 5

S2 7. r-;? do better if There leads
Diamond Queen ; but it would be

■'-' " bad play so to lead ; for the lead

jj - of Spade King saves the game
surely ; wliereas, for anything Y

C j£ knows, the lead of Diamond Queen

—2— might just suit .4.

C 6

9. It is Z's game to put the lead

H 7 into A's hand.

j^ cf 13. A-B make only three by
_3_ cards, instead of five as in the
D A actual game.

— 4-

D9

144

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[Apeil 1, 1887.

WHIST OK BUMBLEPUPPy.*
We are rejoiced to see a new edition of this capital little book,
sparkling with fun and replete witli sound whist sense. Some
readers who complain that they cannot see where the wliist ends
and the fun begins may be comforted by learning that the whist
ends on the last page, while the fun begins on the title-page. Such
readers should parse carefully good Colonel Newcome's "emollunt "
and " .sinuisse,'' especially the last. It will do them good. We are
pained to find that " Pembridge " does not recognise the real reading
of two oft-misquoted lines of Shakespeare. The Bard of Avon must,
of course, have written : —

" Twigs in the trees ; stones in the running brooks ;
Sermons in books ; something in everything."
Tliis is sound sense.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR APRIL.

By F.E.A.S.

HE sun is as destitute as ever of interest as a tele-
scopic object, spots being small and occurring at
rarrr intervals. The zodiacal light may still be
detected after sunset at the beginning of the
month. The night sky is sliown on map iv. of
" The Stars in their Seasons." IMinima of Algol
occur at llh. .'iGm. P.M. on the lltb, and at
8h. 4.5m on the 17th ; as also at other times in-
convenient for tlie observer. Mercury is a morn-
ing star throughout the whole month, and is not very well placed
for observation. He may be detected with the naked e\'e in the
east just before sunri.^e towards the end of the month. Venus is
an evening star, and is a splendid object in the W. by N. after dusk.
In her passage through the sky this month, she will pass between
the Hj-ades and the Pleiades (" The Stars in their Seasons," map i.).
Mars is quite invisible. Jupiter may be seen all niglit long. He is
in opposition to the sun on the 21st ; but unfortunately his soutli
declination precludes the very finest definition of tlie details on his
surface in the telescope. He will be found to the south of
K Virginia (" The Stars in their Seasons," map v.). The phenomena
of his .satellites, visible before Ih. A.M., are now becoming decidedly
more numerous. On April 3rd, satellite II. will disappear in eclipse
at lOh. 54m. 12s. P.M. On April ."jth, the egress of the same satellite
from the face of the planet will happen at i)li. 10m. P.M. Tlien at
llh. 3!?m. 48s. satellife I. will be eclipsed. On the Gih, the transit
of satellite I. will begin at 9h. 2m. P.M. Its shadow, preceding it,
will leave Jupiter's opposite limb at lOli. 68m., the satellite itself
passing off at lUi. 13m. On the Sth, satellite III. will disappear in
eclipse at 8h. .54 m. 32s., to reappear from occultation at llh. 41m. On
the 12th, .satellite II. will enter on to Jupiter's face at 8h. 54m. P.M.
Its shadow will leave the opposite limb at llh. 2m., and tlie satellite
casting it at llh. 24m. On the 18th, the ingress of the shadow of
satellite I. begins at 10b. 3om. P.M., and that of the satellite itself
at lOh. 46m. The shadow leaves Jupiter's opposite limb at
12h. 47m., and the satellite at 12h. 57m. On the 14th, satellite I.
will be occulted at lOh. 15m. P.M. On the 15th, .satellite III. will
be eclipsed at 12h. 52m. 39s. P.M. On the lllth, the shadow of
satellite II. will begin its transit at 11 o'clock, as will the satellite
itself 6 minutes later. On the 20th, the shadow of satellite I. enters
on the planet's limb at ] 2h. 29m. P.M., and satellite I. follows it
one minute later. On the 21st, satellite I. will be occulted at
9h. 47m. P.M., to reappear from eclipse at llh, 57m. 4s. On the
22nd, the satellite I. will leave the disc of the planet at 9h. 8m. P.M.,
as will its shadow at 9h. 10m. On the 2Gth, the shadow of
.satellite III. will pass off .Jupiter's face at Sh. 31m. p.m. On the
28th, satellite II. will reappear from eclipse at lOh. 32m. 16s. P.M.,
and satellite I. be occulted at llh. .30m. On the 29th, the ingress
of satellite I. will occur at 8.40 P.M., and that of its shadow at
8h. 62ra. The satellite will quit Jupiter's opposite limb at lOh, 52m. ;
its shadow at llh. 5m. Lastly, on the 30th, satellite I. will
reappear from eclipse at 8h. Tjm. 10s. p M. Saturn is stiU an
evening star, but is now approaching the west. He travels
during April from a point to the NE. of f Geminorum
towards S (" The Stars in their Seasons," map ii.). By the end
of the month he will be quite close to S Geminorum. Uranus
will be found between 2° and 3° to the south of y Virginis
(" The Stars in their Seasons,'' map v.). The Moon enters her first
quarter at Ih. 52-8m. P.M. on the 1st, is full at ,5h. 38-9m. A.M. on
the 7th, enters hfrlast quarter at 4h. 3*8m. A.M. on the ]5th, and is
new at 8h. 53-2m. A M. on the 23rd. She will enter her first

* " Whist or Bumblepuppy." By Pembridge.
Waters, and Simpkin, Marshall, & Co.

3rd edition. G. E.

quarter — for the second time this month — at llh. 0'4m. p.m. on the
30tli. High tides may be expected about the 7th. Occultations of
stars by tlie Moon at convenient hours during the present month are
fairly numerous, but in each case the star is a small one. Beginning
with the 2nd, B.A.C. 2731, a star of the 6ith magnitude will
disappear at tlie Moon's dark limb at 9h. 20m. p.m. at an angle of
111" from her vertex. It will reappear at her bright limb at
lOh. 30m. P.M. at an angle from her vertex of 288°. On the 7th,
46 Virginis, a 6th mag. star, will disappear at her bright limb
at 9h. 23m. P.M. at an angle from her vertex of 351°. It will
reappear at her dark limb at lOh. 6m. P.M. at a vertical angle
of 275°. At lOh. 59m. on the same night another 6tli mag.
star, 48 Virginis, will disappear at ihc bright limb at an angle
of 28° from the vertex of the Moon. Its reappearance at
12h. 2m. at the dark limb occurs at a vertical angle of 271°.
When the Moon rises on the 9th, .she will already have
occulted I' Libra?, a 6th mag. star. It will reappear at her
dark limb at 8h. 38m. P.M., at an angle of 173° from her vertex.
On the 25th, 48 Tauri, a star of the 6th magnitude, will dis-
appear at the dark limli at 9h. P.M., at an angle of 85° from the
vertex of the Moon. The Moon will have set ere It reappears. On
the 29th, 8 Cancri, a 6th-magnitude star, will disappear at the dark
limb 18 minutes after midnight, at a vertical angle of 199°, but
the Moon will be setting when it reappears. On the 30th, 54 Cancri,
of the 6ith magnitude, will dis.appear at the dark limb at 9h. 3Gm.
P.M., at an angle of 74° from the lunar vertex. Its reappearance at
the bright limb happens <at lOh. 27m., at an angle from the vertex
of 330°. Lastly, on the same night, at 12h. 25m., o' Cancri, a 6th-
magnitude star, will disappear at the Jloon's dark limb, at an angle
of 172° from her vertex, reappearing 53 minutes after midnight at
her bright limb, at a vertical angle of 286°. When these notes
begin tlie Moon is in Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.),
but she leaves this for Cancer at 4 P.M. on the 2nd. She quits
Cancer in turn for Leo at midnight on tlie 3rd. Her passage
tlirough Leo occupies her until 1 P.M. on the 6th, at which hour
she crosses into Virgo (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.). She
does not leave Virgo until 8h. 30m. A.M. on the 10th, when she
enters Libra ("The Seasons Pictured,'' plate xxvi.). In her
passage across Libra, she arrives at 1 a.m. on the 11th on
the boundary of the narrow northern spike of Scorpio. By
10 o'clock the same morning she has traversed this, and passed
into Ophiuchus. Her passage through the southern part of
this constellation is completed at 2h. 30m. AM. on the
13th, when she crosses its confines into Sagittarius. At noon
on the 15th, she quits Sagittarius for Capricornus ("The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxi.). Skirting the rather tortuous boundary be-
tween Capricornus and Aquarius, she does not fairly enter the last-
named constellation until 4h. P.M. on the 17th. She is travelling
across Aquarius until 8h. P.M. on the 19th, when she enters Pisces
(" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). Tr.avelling through Pisces,
she arrives at midnight on the 22nd at the dividing line of the
northern prolongation of Cetus. She remains in this part of Cetus
until 3h. P.M. on the 2.8rd, when she leaves it for Aries ("'The
Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). She only takes until 7h. 30m. P.M.
on the 24th to cross Aries and enter Taurus. In her journey
through Taurus she arrives at 4h. P.M. on the 27th on the boundary
of the northern projection of Orion. When she has travelled
through this by 4 o'clock the next morning, it is to emerge in
Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). She remains in
Gemini until lOh. p.m. on the 29tli, when she crosses into Cancer.
She is still in Cancer at midnight on the 30th.

Contents of No. 1

The Story of Creation : a Plain Ac-
count of Evolution. By Edwaid
Clodd

roiil. By ^V. Mattieu Williams ..

Great Circle Sailing. By Richard
A. Proctor

Tne Southern Skies for Ai>rll

One-Scale Atlas

Pleasant Hours with the Micro-
scope By Henry J. Slack, F.G.S.,
F.B.M.S

Solutions of Puzzles

Our Puzzles

97
99

100
115
106

107
108
109

PAGK

Minute Mea-surement 1C9

Myths of Night and Winter. By

" Stella Occidens ■' 112

Americanisms. By Richard A.

Proctor 11-1

Public Schools Atlas 114

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor . . 115

Reviews 117

The Face of the Sky for March ... . 118
Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs ■' 119

Our Chess Column. By "Me-

phisto" 120

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge" as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To "West Indies and South America 9 0

To the Ea-t Indies, China, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &c 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Egypt, the Subscription is 7s. 6d., as heretofore.

May 2, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

145

' ^ ^LUSTR ATED MAGAZINE^ ^
N€E,LITERATURE,&

LONDON: MAY 2, 1887.

THE STORY OF CREATION.

A ri.AIX ACCOUNT OF EVULUTIOX.

Br Edward Clodd.
PA3T n.

CHAPIER V. - XllE ORIGIX OF Sl'B.ClES—e<mtiuited.

VI. Natural selection tends to maintain the balance be-
tween living thim/s and their surroundings. These sur-
roundings change ; there/ore living things must adapt them-
selves tli-:r^to, or perish.

^ treating of the obsciu-ity which liangs around
the ultimate causes of variation of living
things, stress has been laid on the ceaseless
and elusivelv complex interplay between them
and the medium which surrounds, quickens,
and nourishes them. As Gegenbaur remarks,
the energies which cause changes in the
urganiism either lie without the organism or for the most
part are to be sought for without it.* An important dis-
tinction has to be made at the outset between plants and
animals in the feebler response of the plant to its surround-
ings through the early secretion of cellulose which walls it
in, and in its greater subjection to those surroundings by
virtue of its fixed place. While the animal can wander,
within cert.iin limits, in search of food, the plant is com-
pelled to take what comes to it, and, moreover, is powerless
to escape the effects of altered temperature and climate.
Hence its range of variation is limited compared to that of
the animal. And however numerous the species of plants
may be, the differences between them do not lie in the
modes of nutrition, but in the modes of reproduction,
whereas in animals, in addition to the variation in their
modes of locomotion, we find them divided into three
groups: 1, simple forms without body cavity; 2, higher
forms with body cavity ; 3, highest forms with digestive
cavity separate from bodj' cavity. Bat for this early
" parting of the ways " life would probably have remained
vegetal.

That the foudi of the medium was the first quickener of
variation is shown in the rise of the earliest a]iproicli to
unlikeness at the surface, as in the membranous lilm which
envelopes the lowest life-forms, and, among the higher
animals, in the gradual specialisation of lines of communica-
tion— the nervous system and sense organs — with the outer
world from infoldings of the skin. The diffused sensitive-
ness to smell, light, and sound became localised, the sense of
touch remaining general over the body-surface, except where
horny skin is secreted. Obviou.-ly, therefore, the tendency
to vary which inheres in living things being stimulated by

* " Comparative Anatomy," p. 57 (Eng. ed.).

interaction between them and their surroundings, the
degree in which variatioas ai-e useful to living things —
i.e., in enabling them to win in the univei-sal struggle
for food and place — determines, under the action of natural
selection, their siu-vival.

The slow but ceaseless changes in things without have
involved adaptive changes in all organisms except the
lowest. Seemingly, all things remain as they were from the
beginning. The ninge of our experience is too narrow, the
time since scientific observation of nature began is compara-
tively so recent, the changes in living things so beyond
direct detection, that we cannot wonder at people's reluc-
tance to accept the theorv that the countless species of
plants and animals which have succeeded one another have
a common descent, through infinite modifiaxtion, from
structureless germs. And, in fact, not only is life vastly
older than any record of it, but the fossil-yielding rocks
supply no key to the origin of the leading groups, whose
representative types of to-day are so little altered that every
fossil as yet found can be put into existing classes. Huxley
remarks that " the whole lapse of geological time ha.s thus
far yielded not a single new ordinal tx^pe of vegetable
structure," and although "the po.sitive change in |)assing
from the recent to the ancient animal world is gi-eater, it is
still singularly small." * The variation in ordinal type of
animal structure is only about ten per cent, of the whole.

Yet we know that nothing is rigid : the earth records the
gradual ascent of life-forms in structure and the changes in
its crust, in a scripture that cannot be broken. The agencies
within, and the fer more potent agencies without, that have
wrought those changes, pursue without pause their slow and
sometimes sudden working. The great globe itself, on
which a mere fraction of the sun's energy suflices to sus-
tain life, speeds through space ; careens and brings the
seasons in their sureness ; spins and gives, unfailing, the glory
of sunrises and sunsets; and, in periodic changes of its
orbit, crowns at one epoch its poles with vines and oaks and
water-lilies, and at another epoch covers them with im-
pa.«sable snow.

Changes of climate and level, with the alterations in soil
which they bring about, profoundly affect food and the
power to obtain it. And the necessitj- for food being a
strong — perhaps the strongest — stimulus to motion, the
organism which the more readily adapts itself to the changed
conditions, or is better equipped to resist them, wins in the
struggle. The new functions to be discharged involve
changes in structure, because the organs exist for the work
which they have to do, not the work for the organs, iloreover,
changes which arise in the structure are not limited to one
part, the whole organisation being, in Darwin's words, " so
tied together during its gi-owth and development that when
slight variations in any one part occur, and are accumulated
through natural selection, other paits become modified."
Take, for example, the growth of the deer's antlei-s, which
in some species attain a weight of seventy pounds in a few
weeks. 'The increased supply of blood which this involves
necessitates readjustment of circulation, and the increased
. weight which the skull has to bear necessitates more power-
ful muscles and ligaments, with increased .strength of the
\ bones to which they are attached. More food is needed to
supply the energy thus expended, involving more active
digestion, and therefore modification of the digestive organs.

So far as the individual is concerned, there are the changes
wrought in it by use and disuse — in the one case leading to
the development of organs, in the other case to their decline.
" Thus I find," Darwin remarks, "in the domestic duck that
the bonea of the wing weigh less and the bones of the leg

♦ " Lay Sermons,' p. 216.

146

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[May

1887.

more in proportion to the whole skeleton than do the same
bones in the wild duck, and this change may he safely
attributed to the domestic duck Hying much less and
walking much more than its wild parents.* But changes
which are induced in oi-gans by their use or disuse on the
part of the animal are not transmitted ; they die with the
individual in which they occur. They are powerless to
affect the type. It is to natural selection that we must
refer modifications which, appearing as relics of structure
common to large groups, have a specious look of being due
to individual use or disuse. Take, for example, the whale as
an illustration of this. The epitome of its ancestry which
the embryo presents reveals its descent from land mammals
having short fore and hind limbs, .scanty covering of hair,
broad beaver-like tails, teeth of different shape, and well-
developed sense organs, especially of smell. These fore-
fathers of the whale probably lived in marshy districts, and,
being omnivoi-ous, sought their food in both swamp and
shallow water. As conditions more and more adverse to
life on land supervened, they were gradually modified under
the action of natural selection into dolphin-like creatures,
living in fresh water, and at last, finding their way into the
ocean, from which the huge sea-lizards of earlier epochs had
disappeared, leaving these leviathans scope " to play therein."
Hence are explained the adaptive changes of structure : the
fore-limbs were modified into dippers enclosed in a fin-like
sac, but retaining the bones corresponding to like structures
in other mammals, as in the arm of man, the wing of the
bat, and the fore-leg of the horse ; whilst of the hind
legs traces may be detected in a few species ; the tail,
which acted as a powerful swimming organ, became
divided into two lobes ; the head became tish-like in
shape ; the seven bones of the neck common to most
mammals grew together ; the skin became hairless ; and the
teeth, which appear in the young whale but are never cut,
gave place to hanging fringes of whalebone, in the meshes
of which the animal entangles the minute organisms upon
which it feeds. In the seal, which is the modified descend-
ant of land flesh-feeders, the hind legs have been developed,
while the tail remains rudimentary.

Of course the existing sjjecies of whales and seals are the
slowly modified descendants of only a small percentage of
ancestors, who, in virtue of their favourable adaptations to
altered conditions of life, survived under the operation of
natural selection, by which also the majority, being unfit or
less adapted, were weeded out.

Natural selection, therefore, is not causal, but directive.
It is powerless to bring about the slightest variation in
plant or animal ; it is all-powerful to preserve variations
" beneficial to the being under its conditions of life ... it
can do nothing until favourable individual differences or
variations occur, and until a place in the natural polity of
the country can be better filled by some modification of some
one or more of its inhabitants." f Moreover, since it tends
to establish balance between life and its surroundings, it
does not imply all round development of the higher from
the lower. Its key-note is adaptation. To quote Herbert
Spencer's remarks on the erroneous conception of Evolution
as implying that everything has an i/itringic tendency to
become something higlier : " if in the case of the living
aggregates forming a species the environing actions remain
CDnstant from generation to generation, the species remains
constant. If those actions change, the species changes until
it is in adjustment with them. But it by no means follows
that this change in the species constitutes a .step in evolu-
tion. Usually neither advance nor recession results ; and

* '• Origin o£ Species," p. 8.

f " Origin of Species," pp. 63 and 137.

often, certain previously-acquired structures being rendered
superfluous, there results a simpler form. Only now and
then does the environing change initiate in the organism
a new complication, and so produce a somewhat higher
type."*

The sea-squirts and, perhaps, the marvellous rotifers, are
examples of recession ; actual degradation is probably limited
to parasites ; while in the unaltered condition of the sim-
plest forms .since the appearance of their earliest known
representatives, we have examples of persistence of type.
Their simplicity has been their salvation. A high organisa-
tion brings with it many disadvantages, for the more com-
plex the structure the more liable is it to get out of gear.
Unfortunately we cannot have highly convoluted brains,
and digestive organs simple and renewable as those of the
sea-cucumber, so that to the highest life-forms evolution is
not all gain.

Variety of readjustment to altered conditions, resulting
in progress in some directions and in stagnation in other
directions, is evidenced in existing modifications of the
common mammalian type. AVe find one group — plant-feeders
— developing organs suited to their functions, as teeth for
grinding and large stomachs, and also acquiring organs of
defence or escape. In the flesh-feeders we find economy of
bulk, great muscular strength, and, as compared with
plant-feeders, prominent development of organs of attack.
In both groups we find progression of parts which in
the group including man are well nigh stationary. Among
the Primates limbs, teeth, and organs of digestion, have
all been slightly modified, and no organs of defence and
attack developed. The explanation is that the animals,
being unable to compete with the larger mammals, took to
an arboreal life, which induced few variations of bodily
structure, the most important being an opposable thumb
and great toe for grasping. But the need for alertness
against foes sharpened their wits, and the need of combina-
tion quickened the social instincts, so that the energy which
in the flesh-feeders and the plant-feeders was stored in limb
and muscle, was diverted in the Primates to development of
brain. They thus escaped the limitations of one condition,
which determined the development of lions and rhinoceroses
in a given direction, and they preserved the power to adapt
themselves to very diverse conditions. As shown by his
caieer since the earliest times that we have record of him,
this ^^■as markedly the case with the. apelike ancestors of
man. For his difference from existing apes is not in
bodily form ; the impassable chasm between him and them
lies in the superior intelligence which he possesses in virtue
of his more complex thinking apparatus. The arrangement
of the furrows of his brain is much the same as theirs, but
the convolutions are deeper the higher we ascend the scale,
the gap between the civilised man and the savage being
greater than that between the savage and the man-like
apes.

Of the propositions expounded in the present and fore-
going cha])tprs this is the sum : — No two living things are
exactly alike. Their inherent tendency to vary is excited
by their surroundings, on which all life depends, and to
changes in which they must adapt themselves or perish.
Every living thing transmits its qualities, and therefore its
variations, to its offspring ; the more useful the variation
the better is the plant or animal equijjped in the struggle for
life. For as all living things tend to multiply so rapidly
that the earth would be too small in a very short time for
a single species, a fierce and ceaseless struggle is waged,
chiefly between the same species, for food and place. The
result is that by far the larger numbernever reach maturity,

* '• Principles of Sociology," p. 107.

May 2, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

147

or are killed and eaten. In the long result variations give
rise to new .species.

The only assumption at the base of Darwin's theory is
that sufficient time has elapsed since the beginning of life
for the development of all past and present species of plants
and animal.s from a common ancestry. As to the age of
the earth, more especially as a fit and possible abode of life,
geologists and physicists are not agreed. The geological
estimate rests chiefly upon the rates at which the deposit of
sediment, or the wearing away of soil by rain and rivers,
are going on ; but that estimate is based upon the assump-
tion that present changes are the measure of past changes,
whereas uniform action does not exclude the possibility of
great and sudden revolutions. But, on the whole, the
argument from geological evidence is strongly in favoui- of
the lapse of not much less than one hundred million years
since the earliest life-forms appeared and the oldest stratified
rocks began to be laid down. This is much longer than the
physicists, reasoning from the origin and age of the sun's
heat, the rate of the earth's cooling, and other data, are
willing to allow. But, however the question may be finally
settled, the result cannot aflect the evidence in support of
the theory of descent which is supplied by the facts — 1, of
Embryology, or likeness of beginnings ; 2, of Morphology,
or likeness of structure ; 3, of Classification of plants and
animals ; and -1, of their Distribution both in space and
time.

WILD YOUTH'S TAX ON LIFE/^

By Henry Ward Beecher.

j LD age has the foundation of its joy or its
foiTow laid in youth. Every stone laid in
the foundation takes hold of every stone in
the wall up to the very eaves of the build-
ing : and every deed, right or wrong, that
transpires in youth reaches forward, and has
a relation to all the afterpart of man's life.
A man .^ lite i.^ not like the contiguous cells in a bee's honey-
comb : it is more like the separate parts of a plant which
unfolds out of itself, every part bearing relation to all that
antecede. That which one does in youth is the root, and all
the afterparts, middle age and old age, are the bi-anches and
the fruits, whose character the root will determine.

E\ery man belongs to an economy in which he has a right
to calculate, or his friends for him, on eighty years as a fair
term of life. His body is placed in a world adapted to
nourish and protect it. Nature is congenial. There are
elements enough of mischief in it if a man pleases to find
them out. A man can wear his body out as quickly as he
please^-;, destroy it if he will, but, after all, the great laws of
nature are nourishing laws, and, comprehensively regarded,
nature is the universal nurse, the universal physician of our
race, guarding us against evil, warning us of it by incipient
pains, setting up signals of danger, not outwardly, but
inwardly, and cautioning us by sorrows and by pains for our
benefit. Every immoderate draft which is made by the
appetites and pa.ssions is so much sent forward to be cashed
in old age. \Ye may sin at one end, but God takes it ofTat
the other. Every man has stored up for him some eight}'
years, if he knows how to keep them, and those eighty years,
like a bank of deposit, are full of treasures ; but youth,
through ignorance or through immoderate passions, is wont
continually to draw cheques on old age. Men do not sup-

* This article was written by Beecher only a fortnight before
his death. It was probably hi.s last contribution to periodical
literature.

pose that they are doing it, although told that the wicked
shall not live out half their days.

Men are accustomed to look upon the excesses of youth
as something tliat belongs to that time. They say that of
course the young, like colts unbridled, will disport them-
selves. There is no harm in colts disporting themselves,
but a colt never gets drunk. I do not object to any amount
of gaiety or vivacity that lies within the bounds of reason
or of health ; but I do reject and abhor, as worthy to be
stigmatised as dishonourable and unmanly, every such
course in youth as takes away strength, vigour, and purity
from old age. I do not telieve that any man should take
the candle of his old age and light it by the vices of his
youth. Every man that transcends nature's laws in youth
is taking beforehand those treasures that are stored up for
his old age ; he is taking the food that should have been his
sustenance in old age, and exhausting it in riotous living in
his youth. Mere gaiety and exhilaration are wholesome :
they violate no law, moral or physical.

I do not object to mirth or gaiety, but I do object to any
man's making an animal of himself by living for the gratifi-
cation of his own animal passions. People frequently think
that to require in the conduct of youth that which we ex-
pect in later life has something of Puritanism in it. Men
have an impression that youth is very much like wine —
crude and insipid until it has fermented, but when it has
fermented, and thrown down the lees, and the scum has
been drawn ofl', the gre;it body between is sound and whole-
some and beautiful. I am not one that thinks so. 1 think
that youth is the beginning of the plant life, and that every
wart or excrescence is so much enfeeblement of its fruit-
bearing power. I do not believe that any man is the better
for ha^•ing learned the whole career of drunkenness or of
lust, or the dallyings or indulgences that belong to a morbid
life. A young man who has gone through these things may
be saved at last, but in after life he has not the sensibility
nor the purity nor the moral stamina that he ought to have.
He has gone through an experience but for which his man-
hood woidd have been stronger and nobler. I thoroughly
disbelieve that a man is any better for having in his ^-outh
passed through an experience that developed his animal
nature and his lustful appetites. Excess in youth, in regard
to animal indulgence, is bankruptcy in old age.

For this reason I deprecate late hours, irregular hours, or
irregular sleep. People ask me frequently, " Do you think
there is any harm in dancing ! " No, I do not. There is
much good in it. " Do you, then, object to dancing
parties?" No; in themselves I do not. But where
unknit youth, unripe muscle, unsettled and unhardened
nerves are put through an excess of excitement, treated
with stimulants, fed irregularly and with unwholesome food,
surrounded with gaiety which is excessive and which is pro-
tracted through hours when they should be asleep, I object,
not because of the dancing, but because of the dissipation.
It is taking the time that unquestionably was intended for
sleep, and spending it in the highest state of exhilaration
and excitement. The harm is not in the dancing itself : for
if they danced as do the peaiaints, in the open air, upon the
grass under the trees, and in the day, it might be com-
mended, not as virtuous, but still belonging to those
negative things that may be lieautiful. But the wassail in
the night, the wastefulness — I will not say of precarious
hours, for hours are not half so precarious as nerves are —
the dissipation, continued night after night and week after
week through the whole season, it is this I deprecate as eat-
ing out the very life. I am not superstitious of observances,
but I am always thankful that there are forty days of Lent
in the year when folks can rest from their debauches and
dissipations ; when no round of excessive excitement in the

148

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[Mat 2, 1887.

pursuit of pleasure is permitted to come in and ruin the
health and cripple the natural powers of the young.

The appetites of youth, which either in social or in soli-
tary life drain down the vitality and impair the constitution,
are so many insidious assaults on old age. I would that
the young knew how clearly these things are written.
God's handwriting is very plain and very legible to those
who have eyes to see. There is not an intelligent physician
that does not read, as he walks through the street, the
secret history of the lives of those whom he meets, and
that, too, without following them in their midnight career.
I care not to have men come to me and state their secret
courses; I can read it in the skin and in the eye. There
is not one single appetite of passion that has not its natural
language, and every undue indulgence of that appetite or
passion leaves that natural language more or less stamped
upon the skin, upon the features, upon the expression of
the face, or the carriage of the body. There is always
some token that tells what men are doing, if they are
doing anything to excess. Pride has its natural language ;
mirthfuluess has ; goodness has. Nobody doubts thi.s. So
have the passions their natural language. Men think that
if they commit their wickedness in secret places, or in the
night, that it is not known. It is known, although no man
may ever say to them : " Thou art guilty ! "

The use of stimulants in youth is another detraction
from happiness in old age. ^Nfen usually take what they
least need. In other words, we follow our strongest facul-
ties, and not our weaker ones ; and therefore if men are
excessively nervous they almost invariably seek to make
themselves more so.

I rejoice to say that I was brought up from my youth
to abstain from tobacco. It is unhealthy ; it is filth}' from
beginning to end. In rare cases, where there is already
some unhealthy or morbid tendency in the system, it is
possible that it may be used with some benefit ; but ordi-
narily it is unhealthy. I believe that the day will come
when a young man will be proud of not being addicted to
the use of stimulants of any kind. I believe the day
will come when not to drink, not to use tobacco, not to
waste one's strength in the secret indulgence of passion,
but to be true to one's nature, true to God's law, to be
sound, robust, cheerful, and to be conscious that these
elements of strength and health are derived from the
reverent obedience of the commandments of God, will be a
matter of ambition and endeavour among men.

COAL.

By W. Mattieu Williams.

T'JNG-'WALL " working is more economical
than the methods already described, as it
leaves behind no supporting pillars of
coal. To understand it, let us suppose
that roads are driven in the coal from the
pit to the boundary of the " royalty " or
area to be worked, and that these lead to
another road which crosses them and
follows the bDundary. In this case the coal has to be
removed from the boundary towards the pit. Further, sup-
pose that the roads from the pit ai-e one hundred yards apart,
and it is obvious that between each of these roads there is a
face or wall of coal one hundred yards long. The problem
Ls to cut away this wall on the side towards the pit, and
carry all the coal into the pit roads without crushing the
men as the unsupported roof comes down.

The illustration shows how this is done. It represents
the foce of the coal as seen in section from the end of one of
these pit roads looking forward into the road that is parallel
to the boundary. The man is kneeling in face of the wall of
the coal to be removed, and working towards the pit. He
has already undercut the seam, and is breaking it down,
" holeing " it, by striking the wedge. Behind him are seen
three props for supporting the roof at the part from which
the coal has been removed, and behind these pillars is the
goaf ov gob, i.e., the ruins of the crushed-in strata which
always give way to the superincumbent pressure when any
considerable area is left unsupported. When the cutter has
brought down a few feet more of the face upon which he is
now working, and the coal has been carried away, the hind-
most row of props is knocked away, and brought foiward to
form a front row, the roof which they formerly supported
now falling down.

It is commonly imagined that greiit cavities are left in the
sites of worked-out coal-mines, and geological and even
cosmical theories have been based on the assumption that

the shrinkage of the cooling earth will leave vast cavities
beneath its crust, in which the ocean will finally be engulfed
and leave the surface of the earth as arid as that of the
moon. An examination of the goafs and creeps of coal
workings would, I think, completely convert the most
earnest advocates of these views. I have groped through
many celebrated natural caverns, and find them to be nothing
more than narrow tunnels with occasional enlargements, the
widest of wh:_h cannot display an unsupported roof nearly
equal in length and span to the Midland Railway Station at
King's Cross.

Although such caverns are continuou.sly in the course of
formation and enlargement wherever surface water percolates
limestone rocks, they usually crush in even before attaining
the dimensions of the Albert Hall. The crushing in of
the roof of the ten-yard seam in South Staffordshire is a
continual source of minor artificial earthquakes.

Houses are split down the middle, and others toppled
over ; railways drop, and have to be continually relevelled.
In the report of the Committee on Accidents in Coal Mines,
1849, we are told that " it is a matter of everyday occur-
rence for houses to fall down, or a row of buildings inhabited
by numerous families to assume a very irregular outline,
from what they call a sivag caused by the sinking of the
ground into old workings. It is often a serious matter to
find a sound site for church or school building. . . . There
is an instance in the parish of Sedgley of a church and
parsonage house, recently erected, composed of wooden
framework, which will admit of their being screwed up into
the perpendicular again whenever they may be thrown out
of it." Similar troubles on a serious scale are now occur-
ring over the Cheshire salt mines. The newspapers of a
week or two since report that in one of the main thorough-
fares of North wich " the foundation of a shop, together with
about ten yards of the adjoining footpath, sank into a deep

May -2, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

U9

pit, which soon became filled with water," and that " a pit
four yards in diameter and five yards deep was suddenly
formed in the Hartford volunteer drill shed."

In some cases this crushing down of the superincumbent
rock supersedes the work of wedging ; the coal comes down
when merely undercut. This of course increases the de-
mand for props, and renders the working more dangerous.
A great deal has been written about the limits of depth to
which it is possible to carry coal working. Hull estimates
it at about 4,000 feet, and this is pretty generally accepted
on account of the high tempei-ature that would be there
reached. For reasons that I will discuss hereafter I believe
that the temperature difiiculty may be overcome, and that
the limit of depth at which it is possible to mine for coal or
any other mineral wOl be determined by the viscosity of the
crust of the earth, by its flowing after the manner of liquids
when subjected to a sufficient amount of pressure. I ven-
ture to predict that if ever the " trou Flammarion " — the
great boring into the earth's interior — is carried out as
projected, a limiting depth will be reached by the inflowing
of the granitic rock.

Gunpowder blasting is used in some collieries instead of
the wedge, but only where there is no firedamp. Even in
the absence of such combustible gas, blasting may be dan-
gerous. Mr. Galloway has proved, by an exhaustive course
of observations and experiments, that in collieries where the
workings are dry serious explosions may result from the
firing of mere coal dust. A substitute for blasting has been
proposed which appeai-s promising, but I am not able to
estimate its practical merits. This is to bore a hole as in
blasting (which is very easily done in a soft material like
coal), ram quicklime into this, and then allow water to
percolate therein. Quicklime combines chemically with
water, forming the hydrate of lime, and in doing so expands
with great force.

Long-wall working may be carried out by commencing
near the shaft and working away from it towards the
boundary. In this case gob-roads have to be made in the
goaf or fallen debris, and such roads must be supported
artificially. Under this system a profitable return is ob-
tained much sooner than when the working is begun at the
boundary. All the time in cutting the roads is saved, and
the first getting of coal is so near to the pit that the putting,
or carriage underground, is reduced to a minimum at the
commencement. If any of my readers are tempted to take
shares in a successfully working colliery, and the temptation
is backed by the display of a balance-sheet showing large
profits, let him inquire into the mode of working, as he may
be perfectly assured that, if this method of beginning near
the pit is in operation, the cost of working will gradually
increase with the increasing length of gob-roads that require
expensive supporting, and the gi-adually increasing distance
along which the coal must be dragged before reaching the
pit. On the other hand, if the method of working I first
described is in operation, that from the boundary pit-wai-ds,
these expenses will go on diminishing with every stage of
progress towards the pit ; besides which there must be roads
ready made which represent a considerable amount of capital
value.

It would be out of place here to go into further details
concerning modifications of long work, or intermediate
methods partaking of the character of long work and pillar-
and-stall work combined. I may add that when I was in
North Wales about twenty years ago the introduction of
long-wall work met with considerable opposition among the
Flintshire colliers. They supposed it to be more dangerous
than the older methods. It probably was so at iii-st, but
now that it is better understood the majority of practical I
mining engineers and of imderground stewards maintain that i

it is less dangerous, and this conclusion is confirmed by the
statistics of colliery fatalities.

Among the good old books of reference demanding a new
edition carried forward to date is the '■ Cyclopaedia of
Useful Arts," by Charles Tomlinson. In the article " Coal "
therein are painful pictures representing some bygone
horrors of colliery work. There is (page 396) " a hurrier
in a Halifax coal pit," a girl in her teens harnessed like a
beast, by means of girdle and chain allied a Jog. belt, to a
lorry or coal truck, and dragging it like a beast on all fours
through the dark, dripping tunnels of the pit. She is bare-
footed, bare-legged, and naked downwards to the hips.
Another picture of "coal-bearing in the East Scotland
mines " represents two girls carrying the coal in baskets on
their backs up a ladder of villanous construction. Other
pictures of women canying coal on their backs along steep
underground roads, and up a " turnpike stair " or screw
platform, are too truthful representations of barbaric prac-
tices which are now totally abolished in Britain, though
still lingering on in other countries. Our legislation has
justly prohibited the employment of girls and women in
any capacity whatever underground, and the ruin which the
blind worshippei-s of demand and supply predicted as a
con.sequence of this interference has not befallen us, but
on the contrary, it has enforced upon capitalists the
adoption of other methods which have proved themselves,
not only more humane, but actually more economical and
profitable.

In the course of our current j ubilations, many historical sum-
maries of our progress dming the last fifty years have been
published ; but I find little or nothing there stated concern-
ing the general emancipation of women from degrading
imfeminine occupations and excessive hours of toil. A
special chapter might well be devoted to this feature of our
social progi-ess, as one especially worthy of attention, and
proudly characteristic of the reign of Queen Victoria.

All pit roads are now railroads. Where the inclines are
steep and straight, and in many cases where thej' are not
steep, steam-power is used to haul the " tubs " or pit wagons
to the shaft. The power is applied to a winding drum,
which hauls a long rope to which a train of tubs is attached.
Where the incline exceeds 1 in 30 the empty tubs are run
down by gravitation, dragging out the rope from the drum
as they descend. If the incline is insufficient, a tail rope is
attached, and the empty tubs and hauling rope are drawn
down by this.

In colliery working, as in everything else, conservative
resistance to progress exists, and on this account, as well as
from local difficulties, horse and even boy power is still
used in drawing the tubs along the roads. Welsh and
Shetland ponies are consequently in demand for pit work.
I see by to-day's newspaper (April 9) that at Lord London-
derry's sale Shetland ponies '• brought from sixteen to thirty
guineas apiece." The writer adds that " many of the hap-
less little animals sold on Thursday are doubtless destined
to pass the rest of their lives at the bottom of a black and
hollow vault," and he refers to the alleged brutality of
rough pitmen in the treatment of these animals, but is
wilUng to believe that considerable improvement has recently
taken place.

I quote this in order to correct the popular errors which
it expresses. Colliers as a class are by no means rough and
brutal, less so than average London wagon and cart drivers,
and the condition of pit ponies is one that London cab or
omnibus horses may justly envy. They are well fed, not
overworked, commonly petted, and demonstrate the good
treatment they receive by their condition. It is well known
in colliery districts that ponies generally improve in condi-
tion and value by underground work, (xiven two ordinary

150

♦ KNO\A^LEDGE ♦

[May 2, 1887.

Welsh ponies of equal age and equal market value, take
one down a coal pit to work in the ordinary manner for six
months, and let the other work above ground for the same
period. At the end of the time the pit pony will sell for 20
per cent, more than the other in any horse fair. The fine
condition of the coat of pit horses is proverbial. It is partly
due, no doubt, to the climate, which is always temperate,
with a variation of only a few degrees. Such a climate is
especially favourable to horses.

ANCIENT SOLAR FESTIVALS.*

By W. St. Chad Boscawen.

;MON(} a star-gazing people like the ancient
Chaldeans, the equinoxes became early ob-
served, and of this testimony is furnished
liy inscriptions recording the dates of the
equinoxes. These inscriptions come from
the royal college library of Nineveh, and
form part of the great collection of astro-
nomical and astrological documents found there. In these
documents, of which I quote the following example, the
natural phenomena of the equinox are observed (W. A. I.,
iii. .51. 1) : — " The sixth day of the month Nisan, the day
and the night balanced. There were six kaspii of day, six
kasjm of night." This report shows how from the temple ob-
servatories of Assyria in the reign of Assurbanipal (b.c. (>(>i),
the equality of day and night has been noted, each con-
sisting of six periods or kasj)u, each of two hours' duration.
These periods of diurnal measurement were each again sub-
divided into three periods or watches of two hours each,
and each astronomical occurrence was carefully noted as to
the period in which it occurred. But the fact that the
periods of the equinoxes and the solstices were made the
time of great religious festivals was first made clear by the
discovery of a calendar of the Babylonian year, which is
now supplemented by the valuable tablet recording the
solar festivals discovered by Mr. Rassam amid the ruins of
the ancient city of Sippara of the Sun, the Chaldean
Heliopolis. This tablet, dated on the twentieth day of
the month Nisan, in the thirty-first year of Nabubaliddina,
king of Babylon, records the four great solar festivals of
that year which were honoured by donations from the
great king. The first point to be ascertained is the date of
this document before the Christian era, and this we can
approximately arrive at from his reign being synchronous
with those of two of the important monarchs of the middle
Assyrian empire. He appears first in the records of
Assyria in B.C. 879, and he concluded a treaty of peace with
Shalmaneser II., which lasted until B.C. 853, when his son
succeeded him as ruler. Upon these facts we may place
the date of this important record as from B.C. 853 to
B.C. 860. The dates of the ecjuinoxial festivals given in
this record are as follows : —

On the seventh day of Nisan. This was the feast of the
new year, and corresponded to the Jewish Passover.
Corresponding to this feast of the vernal equinox there
was in Tisri or Tasrituv, the seventh month, on the seventh
day, the fea'^t of the autumnal equinox. We know from

* Tliis interesting essay was sent us several years ago, and
marked for early insertion, but was mislaid in a volume of star
maps which had been used in examining some of its astronomical
statements. It curiously confirms many of the ideas to which I have
been led in drawing up my essays on " The Unknowable." I have
recently obtained other evidence about tbe star? as interpreted in
ancient times which will be found, I thinlc, to render Mr. Boscawen's
subject especially interesting. — Ed.

the astronomical tablets that the four points on the great
circle marked by the equinoxial and solsticial periods were
called the positions of the nibirn, or "crossings," or "pass-
ings over." In the Creation tablets these points are said to
have been specially fixed by the god Bel or Belus, whom
both the inscriptions and Berosus agree in making the
ruler of the astronomical bodies, times, and seasons. The
above tablet now reveals to us the very important fact of
the existence and observation of a second pair of older
equinoxial festivals. On the tenth day of Airu or lyar, the
second month, and on the fourteenth day of Marchesvan,
the eighth month, are a second pair of corresponding
festivals, which from their positions on the great circle are
evidently old equinoxial festivals, which by the precession
of the equinoxes had given place to a new pair of
festivals.

In the time of Hipparchus, and as far back as B.C. 2540,
the vernal equinox had fallen in the constellation Aries, and
in the astronomical inscriptions copied from the library of
Sargon of Aganne, a monarch who reigned prior to the
Median or Cassile dynasty in the nineteenth century B.C.,
the vernal equinox was in Nisan and in Aries. But it is
evident from this inscription that there was a time in the
annals of B.ibylonian astronomy when the vernal and
autumnal equinoxes fell in Taurus and Scorpio. The
foundation of Babylonian astronomj' dates back to the
period of poliarchy, the period prior to the rise of the
Median dynasty ; and although we cannot accept the pro-
digious antiquity which Berosus and other Greek writers
assign to it, the remote period of its existence is clearly
evident. The compilation of the great astronomical work,
consisting of seventy tablets or books, entitled '' Namar
Beli, the Illumination of Bel," an edition of which has been
found in the royal library at Nineveh, was a work carried
out by order of Sargon I., King of Aganne, a monarch
whose rule was prior to the Median conquest. As regards
this work there is much internal evidence that it was pre-
pared by the Kusho-Semitic people, not by the Tartar
Akkadians. With the former the nightly observation of
the stars during their nomadic wanderings had led to the
development of a certain amount of natural science regard-
ing the celestial phenomena. In the pages of the gi'eat
Babylonian astronomical work there aie affbrded many
interesting glimpses of the popular life and thoughts. The
stars are entitled " the sheep," and an important star, which
I am inclined to regard as the pole star of the period, bore
the name of the star " Sib-zi-AX-NA," "the shepherd of tiie
heavenly flock " ; while the morning and evening stars *
bore such poetic titles as Luli.m, " the leaders," or, as an
inscription shows the word in pastoral phraseology to mean,
" the bell wether," or " leader of the flock." In the omens
deduced from celestial appearances we find such as affect
the life of the nomad, " Rain in heaven, floods in the
channels," reminditig us of tbe favourite Arabexpression, "The
stars have brought rain," " Cattle are safe in the pastures,"
" The enemy sweeps all away." Such phrases as these,
written three or four thousand years ago, have still a
close agreement with modern Bedouin Arab life. The
Akkadian element which appears in the astronomy and
astrology of the Babylonians is most apparent in the
abstruse mathematical calculations and theories of star-
influences on the life, which result from the Fetish or
Animist creed of the Tartar Akkadians, and in which,
when the tablets have been thoroughly examined, I
expect that we shall find the basis of the Cabbalistic

* I should be disposed to doubt this interpretation — that is, if
the words " morning and evening .stars '' signify, as usual, Venus.
Might not the stars heliacally rising and setting be understood 1

May 2, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

151

theories of the Jews. At the time when the great
astronomical work of the Chaldeans was compiled, and
when the calendar was fixed, which we must, as far
as evidence goes, place about B.C. 2000-2500, the bright
star Thuban in the constell.ition Draco was near to
the pole. Placed as this star Thuban, a Draconis, is,
it seems to me to be very possibly the star called " the
star of the tip of the tail."* This star was especially
the omen of weather changes. We read, " The star of
the tip of the tail a great cloud obscures. Locusts in
the land are," or " The star of the tip of the tail at
its rising, the waves of the sea rise at the beginning of
the month Tammuz." The connection of this constellation
and its bright star with storms, tempest, and sea, certainly
.seem to connect it with the storm-dragon, the demon who
figures so often in Chaldean mythology, and may, as you
have so truly pointed out, be a relic of astro-mythology.
The occurrence of these equinoxial festivals on the newly-
discovered inscription from Sippara serves to show that we
must place the rise and, to a certain extent, scientific
development of Babylonian astronomy further back in
the past than we have hitherto expected. The very
remarkable find of a complete library of tablets in the
priests' quarters of one of the oldest Babylonian temples,
which h:is resulted from recent explorations, may no doubt
throw further and more clear light upon some of the
obscure points in the astronomy of the ancient Chaldeans.
Should any such be found, I shall be glad to place them
liefore the readei-s of Kno« ledce, who will no doubt
e.stimate their scientific value better than I am able to do.

SOLUTIONS OF PUZZLES.

I. BUILDING A TRI.\XGUL.\R PYRAMID.

RUBLE^[ XXV. (see last Number). To
arrange equal regular tetrahedrons and octa-
hedrons, with equal triangular faces, into
a single tetrahedron (or regular triangular
pyramid) set six of the tetrahedrons on the
base ABC, as shown in fig. 1, where a, h, c,
d, e,f, represent the apices of six tetrahedrons
i-tanding on the bases adf, dfg, fgk, ebh, ghl, and klc.

A

Fig. 1.

It is then seen that three octahedrons will fit into the spaces
dosfcgJ, EftoeHfZ, and GCK_/'Le, their upper triangular faces

* This, from what follows, seems impossible. For the " star of
the tip of the tail " is described as " rising." The pole star does not
rise. — Ed.

(regarding abc as the base of the pyramid we are building
up) being, respectively, ahc, hde, and cef. Now insert a
seventh tetrahedron into the space hce, with an angle down-
wards at G. We have then the triangular surface adf. We
now set a tetrahedron on each of the triangles abc, lide, and
cpf; fit in a tetrahedron between them : on whose triangular
upper face we set a tetrahedron, and the regular tetrahedron
or triangular pyramid with equilateral faces on the equi-
lateral base ABC is complete.

[The outlines of the tetrahedrons and octahedrons above
the lowest layer are not shown, but the reader will have no
difficulty in seeing how the upper layers forming a pyramid
on the base ad/ are formed. He may regard the part aek
of the figure as showing this, for it shows three tetra-
hedrons, ADF, DEG, FGK, One octahedron BaFcc.b, and the base
abc of the tetrahedron needed to complete the regular
tetrahedron on the base aek.]

ScHOL. — The numbers of octahedrons and tetrahedrons
required to complete the successive layers of a built-up
tetrahedron are as follows, going downwards : —

Xo. of Octahedrons.

0

1

[\+-2] or:5

[l-f-2-1-3] or G

Layer.
1

2

3
4
&c.

n

No, of Tetrahedrons.

[1+2)

[1 + 1 + 2 + 3]

or

or

[1+2 + 1 +2 + 3 + 4] or ir
'(n—2)(n - 1 w(?i + l)

(n—\)n

or n- — re + 1 )
Hence the total numbers of tetrahedrons and octahedrons
required to form a tetrahedron, each of whose edges is
n times as long as an edge of the smaller solids, are as
follows : —
Tetrahedrons

n(n — 1)

'=30'^^)

l!i±i)=^'(,r-l)

4 fr '

=s,K'r-«+ !)=;:(" +i)(2-*+i)-

Octahedrons

=2,l('il=^)=f^(. + l)(2,^+l)-

Thus the ratio of the number of tetrahedrons to the number
of octahedrons is

2«^ + 4 : >r-l;
and when n is very great this ratio becomes very nearly
equal to 2 : 1.

We can now very readily see in what ways sliding is
possible when space has been filled up with tetrahedrons
and square-based pyramids, or with tetrahedrons and octa-
hedrons, in the manner considered above, and in Puzzles
XXII., XXIII., and XXIV., solved last month.

First, note that in the loss interesting case first dealt with
last month, where tetrahedrons and half octahedrons are
used, we get layers \vluch may be shifted as layers in direc-
tions parallel to their plane faces. Once shifted so that the
triangular faces of pyramids and tetrahedrons no longer
coincide, there is no shifting of strips ; but when these faces
are brought into coincidence, as in the building up of the
four based pyramid, we see that longitudinal strips, formed
of rows of pyramids with tetrahedrons fitted in between
them, can be shifted in the direction of their length. There
are four other ways of sliding laj-ers with corresponding
ways of sliding strips which will be recognised from the study
of what follows.

SecotuUi/, when space is built up of tetrahedrons and
octahedrons, in the manner indicated above in the solution
of Problem XXIII., as well as in that of the problem we
have just dealt with (both methods giving precisely the
same arrangement so far as the filling in of space is con-
cerned), we have the following ways of sliding layers. In

152

♦ KNOW^LKDGE ♦

[May 2, 1887.

the method of building up, illustrated in fig. 1, we have a
series of layers parallel to the triangular face abc. But
also manlfestlj- we have a series parallel to those faces of the
built-up pyi-amid which have ab, bc, and AC respectively as
base. Hence there are four directions in which parallel
layers can be slid. And clearly when the faces of tetra-
hedrons and octahedrons agree (after sliding layers in any
of these four ways), we can slide strips such as the three
AFiiB aced, ADLC abef, bekc clhcf, in the directions of their
length ; while corresponding strips can be carried in other
three directions for each of the three plane positions
corresponding to the three other faces of the tetrahedron,
having ab, bc, and CA, respectively, as base.

T/ii]-dli/,\vhen space is built up of the solid, considered in
the solution of Problem XXIV., no sliding or shifting is
possible, without breach of continuity.

II.— PROBLEM OF THE TIOXEYCOMB CELL-ENDS.

[Why Puzzle XXVI. is thus called will be seen further on.]
Puzzle XXVI. The reader will have noticed a slight
error in the statement of this puzzle. The arrangement in
the second box of oranges as described in the February
number is not symmetrical like that of the oranges in a
triangular pyramid. It dift'ere in that the centi-es of any
row of oranges are vertically over those of the row next but
one above and below, whereas in the triangular pj'ramid of
oranges the centre of an orange is vertically over the space
between three oranges in the layer next but one below, as
well as in the layer next below. It is this last arrangement
we have to deal with, in which the oranges are set as in the
first and third arrangement, so far as regards the set of
oranges touching any given orange.

The only difficulty with this puzzle is in making the solu-
tion clea r without occupying too much space or giving more
time to the matter than it m.ay seem to be worth, though
the study of it affords excellent geometrical gymnastic.

Figs. 2 and ;? show two ways of viewing a globe sym-
metrically surrounded by twelve equal globes touching it
and each other. The globes in the two figures are lettered

Fig. 2.

alike. In fig. 2 the four heavy circles are supposed to
represent eight globes, four in the uppermost layer, four
below these. The layer between contains five globes in the
form of a cross, the middle one being the surrounded globe
we are chiefly c onsidering. The four dotted circles repre-
sent globes necessary in building up the group, but not
among those which touch the middle globe. In fig. 3 the
three dotted globes are the lowest layer, the lightly mai-ked
ones the middle layer, and the heavy ones the top layer.
Small italic letters mark the centres of globes belonging to
lower layers.

In fig. 4 the circle abcd, and in fig. 5 the circle Ae/cou,
are supposed to be orthogonal views of the surrounded

globe, with the points where the several globes surrounding
it touch its surface. (")utline dots show points of contact
seen through the globe. At e, f, g, and h (fig. i) two points

Fig. 3.

coincide ; this is shown by circles outside dots. Fig. 2
accounts for the arrangement of the dots marking contact
points in fig. 4, while fig. 3 accounts for that of the corre-
.sponding points in fig. 5. The reader who cannot after a
little thought demonstrate this, and understand details,
would not care to follow a verbal demonstration. But
indeed the figures will explain and demonstrate by themselves
the relations dealt with, for all readers of geometrical
proclivities — and no others are likely to read the.se lines.

Now it is clear that, when the globes all simultaneously
expand, the pressing surfaces will Ijecome plane, and those
inclosing the expanded globe abid, figs. -1 and 5, will touch

Fio. i.

Fis. 5.

the sphere .\bcd at the points of original contact with neigh-
bouring globes.

This premised, we see that the planes touching the sphere
.ABCD at E, F, G, H I both above and below the plane abcd )
meet at a point in o, vertically above the centre of the
sphere as seen, and have the apparent forms oakb, oblc,
OCMD, and ODXA — which are squares — but being really
rhombuses having shorter diameters ab, bc, cd, and da in
real length, and longer diameters ok, ol, cm, and on m
apparent length. These longer diameters are obviously
slanted 45° to the line of sight (consider fig. 2, to see that
this must be so), hence their real length will be aKs/ 2.
Calling the common radius of the original globes r, the
longer and shorter diagonals of these rhombuses or diamonds
will be respectively v/2;- and 2r. We perceive, further,
that the plane-faces touching abcd at a, b, c, and D, are
foreshortened into the straight lines nk, kl, l.m, and nm,
which, regarded as straight lines, are diagonals of other
rhombuses, and are each equal to 2;'.

Our solid figure has then eight rhombus faces, all equal,
viz., the four supposed to be seen in fig. 4, and the four on
the farther side, which, if visible, would have the same out-
lines in the orthogonal or perspective representation. The
figure has four other rhombus faces whose shape has still to
be determined. But we know already that each of these
four other faces has a diameter equal to the longer diameter
of the eight faces already determined.

Fig. .5 enables us to determine the other diameter. We
see that the planes touching the sphere abcd, fig. 5, in the

May 2, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

153

points B, E, F, meet at a point in h vertically above the centre
of the sphere, and have the apparent forms oaKh, Kh'hb,
hcob, while those on the farther side, if seen through the
sphere, would have the forms avJ)h, bb'hc, and abco. Now
obviously all these are equal rhombuses ; so that as two of
tliose on the upper side are rhombuses of a size and shape
already determined, so also is the third k6l6'. But this can
easily be independently demonstrated. For the diameter
KL is obviously equal to Ac or 2r, while bb' , which appears

to be equal to -^^, is really seen at an angle equal to that

between the perpendicular from an angle of a regular tetra-
hedron on an opposite face and an edge through that angle
(consider fig. 3 to see that this must be so). Therefore bb'

is really equal to "—, increased in the proportion which an

edge of a regular tetrahedron bears to such a perpendicular,

or as 2 to * / ^. Hence the shorter diagonal of the

rhombus bKb'h is really equal to

V3

Wi =

s/2,

>;

as before.

In fact, the semiregular solid formed by the expansion of
the elastic surfaces of the equal globes is no other than the
solid considered in the solution of Problem XXIT., in our
last number.

The rhombuses shown in perspective in fig. ^ are identical
in shape with those seen at the ends of the cells of the
honeycomb, when these cells are regular.

III. THE ALPENSTOCK PUZZLE.

Puzzle XXVII. I must deal briefly with this, having
already given more space than I intended to the solutions of
these problems. (I would remark, however, that the study
of all these problems will be found to afford excellent exer-
cise in tridimensional geometry.)

The "ingenious beast " having explained his ideas en 7-oute
to his two masculine fellow-travellers, they proceeded at once
on their arrival at their resting-place to the following con-
struction : —

Laying down the six sticks ab, de, A'c, in the position
shown in fig. 6, Ljr, no, and tq lying upon the others, and

^W

Fig. C.

all crossing at their middle points, they tied them with stout
cord at db and OE, and at c, f, ii. Then two of them brought
K over to A, tying the sticks ab and gk together by the ends
AK, while the third brought the ends L, x, m together and
stoutly tied them. Thus they had the sticks in the form
shown in fig. 7. Then they used the ropes which as careful
mountaineers they used in travelling to " seat " the tri-
angular spaces ACH, bcf, efh. As an end of one of these
ropes had already been used in fastening the ends N, p, l
together, it was easy to carry the rest of this rope down
under c, f, and h outside the slant alpenstocks, giving the
lines CH, he, and CF, which admit of being tautened to any
necessary extent, by carrying the rope in the directions
shown by the • dotted lines within- the •triangle Chf. This

makes the ropes within the seat-triangles taut and strong,
while shawls or wraps thrown over these seats make them
sufliciently comfortable for an rd fresco meal. Anyone
sitting alone at ak, db, or eg, can tip the whole concern

Fifi, 7.

over ; but tlie seats are not meant to be used in that way.
But two people sitting even so absurdly as this— that is to
say, one at ak, the other at eg — would not disturb the
equilibrium of the seat. When two sit on each side of c,
two on each side of F, and two on each side of h, all six are
safe, assuming the alpenstocks sufficiently (and the six
people not too) stout.

OUR PUZZLES

OR

^L\THEJ^ATIC.A.L RECREATIONS FOR MAT.

ROBLEM XXVIII. A nialhematicalhj disposed
person is troubled by the circumstance, that he
sees himself in an ordinary mirror, not as his
friemls see him, but with his ri{/ht side where
they see his left, ami vice-versa. Abo, it seems
to him a nuisance that he has always to go in
front of his mirror to see himself in it at all.
He therefore divides his mirror into tivo parts, and so fits
these that icherever he may be in his room (his eyes not being,
however, above or below certain convenient limits of level), he
can see himself in the mirror as newly adjusted, and always
as his friends see him, not as one usually sees oneself in a
mirror. Hoxo did he manage this ?

Problem XXIX. Supposing the eight corners of a room
lined with mirror glass, agreeing exactly ivith the plane sur-
faces of the walls, ceiling, and floor {the room having all its
faces perfectly rectangular), what would one see on looking
into any corner ?

Problem XXX. Supposing the tirelve edges of the sam^
room lined with mirror glass, how many images of himself
could any one loithin the room see, and in what positions ami
aspects 1

Curious Observatioxs on the Growth of the' Heart. —
Dr. Benecke, of Marburg, has made known Iiis curious observations
on the growth of the human heart, the fact appearing that the
increase is greatest and most rapid during the first and second
years of life, its bulk at the end of the second year being exactly
double what it originally was ; between the second and seventh
years it is again almost doubled. A slower rate of growth now sets
in, until about the fifteenth year, the augmentation of volume
during the intervening seven or eight years being only about two-
thirds. In the period of maturity which now approaches the
growth of the heart again makes progress, the increase keeping
pace with the advance toward maturity of the other portions of the
system. After the fifteenth year, up to the fiftieth, the annual
growth is about 061 of a cubic inch, the increase ceasing with the
fiftieth year, a slight diminution then ensuing. Again, in child-
hood the male and female heart are alike ; after maturity, the male
heart develops more than the female, and the difference between
the two that is thus established— one and a half to two cubic
inches— is Faid to be maintained throughout the remainder of life.

154

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[Mat 2, 1887.

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAT VII, — Foe April, Mat, and June.

The Night Skies in the Southern Hemisphere (Lax. 46' to 24° S.)

AND THE

Southern Skies in England (Upper Half op Map only) at the following Times:

At 1 o'clock, morning, May 7.
„ 12.30 „ „ May 15.

„ Midnight, May 22.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, May 30.

At 1 1 o'clock, night, June 7.
„ 10.30 „ „ June 14.

„ 10 „ „ June 22.

„ 9.30 „ „ June 30.

At 9 o'clock, night, July 7.

„ 8.30 „ „ July 14.

„ S „ „ Jul'y 26.

., 7.30 „ „ Aug. 3.

First

«

Second .... *

Star Magnitudes.
Third . . . . •

Fourth .,.,+•

Fifth

May 2, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE

155

Map IV^.

ty Ricli4 A.Proctor

MAPI

file bruar scale, mJuiIfy w iLni/orrA
(hroujgkout . the thmrt ttalt, ia
^rtaUr hyVn'*^ halfy^ay to thi edge,
<uuL bypt'^ at t/l* «£^e-.

^floZe of MHea ot c^ntrt^ of map
tatxt rajHaUy all ovtr map
Engliflb Miles

f » 100 lod *oo

Small anas ar» yreattr hy^xS^ Jutlf

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

WE give another map of this series, reserving an account of the method in
which the sphere has been divided, and each map projected, till our
space is less crowded.

156

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[May 2, 1887.

THE LETTER "H" IN ENGLAND.

LETTER recently appeared in the ]^ew
York Tribune of September 27 on the use
and misuse of the letter "h" in England,
ill which some very absurd mistakes were
made. This is a subject of much greater
difficulty and complexity than many ima-
gine. During my lecture-travels in Eng-
land 1 have made many inquiiies into the
diversities of usage in regard to the letter " h " in different
parts of the old country, and into the changes which have
been noticed by provincial families during the last forty or
fifty years. The results have been rather curious and some-
what difficult to interpret. They tend, however, to show-
that the habit of dropping the " h " has spread from the
large towns— as if it was a habit resulting from that
slurring of speech which is apt to occur wliere men
are always busily at work. In dull and quiet places,
" far from the madding crowd," re.sistante against the
slui-rinc of the " h " has continued longer. In fact it
was not until the rapid extension of railway communica-
tion, in the years 1835 to 1845, that the provinces were
overspread by the careless way of using the " h," which
had long prevailed in the metropolis and around busy
centres.

The use of an aspirate where no aspirate should be is a
fault which, though now nearly as widespread as the
dropping of the " h," is of later origin. It arose appai-ently
from the felt necessity for some strengthening of the
language (enervated by lost aspirates) when emphasis was
reipiired. It is commonly supposed, especially in Americii,
that among the ill-cultured in England the '• h " is habitu-
ally drop]5ed where it should be used, and thrown in where
it has no business. But this is a mistake. When in an
American new.spaper "han Henglishman his made to
hex-haspirate 'is haitches " after that fashion, every English-
man recognises the incorrectness of the cai-icature. In the
well-known comment by a veterinary surgeon, in one of
Leech's pictures, " It ayn't the 'unting iis 'urts 'im, it's the
'ammer, 'ammer, 'ammer along the 'ard 'igh road," there is
not one word, except perhaps -'ayn't," which, according even
to the worst Cockney dialect, will bear the extra or exaspirated
" h." An average reporter in an American pajier would
certainly write the sentence, " Hit hayn't the 'unting has
'urts 'im, hit's the 'ammer, 'ammer, 'ammer halong the 'ard
'igh road," which would be quite wrong. It will be news
to many (especially in America^ I suspect, but it is the
simple fact, that the exaspirated " h " is not only limited in
its use, but is often recognised in a word which requires au
aspii-ate. Nay, one can recognise one wliose aspirations are
a i-ecent iind, as it were, artificial de\elopment by the way
in which he aspii'ates the "h" in such words as "house"
and " horse." I have a friend, a well-re;id man, unfortu-
nately sent by his fivther to schools where it was not thought
worth while to be strict about the '" h's," wlio avoids the
use of the " h " in words where he knows it should be used,
because he is conscious that an exiispii-at^d " h " where an
'' h " is needed sounds worse to practised ears than an '' h "
dropped altogether. When a friend asks him why he does
not a.spirate his " h's," knowing, as he does well, where they
are wanted, he will say, " Oh, h-h-hang your aitches ! " in a
way showing that it is not for want of aspirational power
that he drops them. •. - .

The writer in the Xev^ York IVibmte makes the pre-
posterous statement that the Englishman of the upper ten
thousand objects to the correct use of the letter " h " by
servants and small tradesmen. There may be occasional

snobs who express such a feeling, though I have never come
across any ; but such cases must be altogether exceptional.
So far from having any feeling of this sort, an English man
or woman of the so-called upper cla.ss will often show undue
condescension for those who blunder over theii' " h's " by
correcting mistakes somewhat too pointedly. I know that
many of the kindlier sort — the really better sort in the
so-called upper classes — are often divided in their mind
between their fear of offending servants by correcting wrong
"h's " and the wish to set them right. Some of the less-
cultured are very touchy about such correction ; others have
sense enough to invite it.

The same writer, whose letter was in fact a congeries of
blunders, dwells on the entii-ely correct use of the " h " in
England among the well-educated classes. But in England
our "whys" and " whens," our " whiches," " wheres,"
and '• whethers," are much too apt to be confounded with
" wise " and " wens," with " witches," " wares," and
" wethers." So widely is the fault spread that many of our
educational authorities insist on " w" for " wh " as correct.
A generation or so ago this was not the case, and a well-
educated man would as soon have said " Yot's o'clock " as
" Wot's o'clock." In America, caieful though Americans
are about the letter " h," the distinction between " rhyme "
and " rime," " Rhode " (Island) and " road " is not so con-
stantly attended to as I had expected.

Throughout the whole English-speaking community the
original sound of " h " after " t " and " d," has long since
been lost. As the very existence of the two sounds we now
represent by " th " serves to show us, there is no connection
whatever between the sound of " th " in " thought " or in
" that " and an aspirated dental. I should have mentioned
Ireland, however, as an exception, for there we still hear
the old sounds in " d'his and d'hat," "t'ought" and
" t'ousand."

I am satisfied the aspirate originally had a guttural sound
in the English, as probably in other languages — at least in
many words. Otherwise we should not find " horn " and
" corn " associated in English (or " horn " representing
" cornu ") any more than we should find the Latin " hortus "
related to the Greek " chortos " on the one hand, and our
own " garden " on the other. What was the sound which the
Anglo-Saxons represented by the spelling " hwat " 1 I
fancv it was a sound such as we still heai- in parts of
Ireland, where in sharp or ejaculatory inquiiy the word
" what 1 '' sounds almost like " quhat." It is well known
that in old Scottish our " wh ' is nearly always written
"quli." Again, the undoubted guttural in the old sounding
of " light," " sight,' itc, was represented in Anglo-Saxon
by the letter "h" alone, in the strange spelling, "liht,"
" siht," ic.

STUDIES WITH A SMALL TELESCOPE.*

i does not seem to us just that this admii-able
little treatise should be left unnoticed in these
columns merely because the greater portion of
the matter first appeared in Knowledge. Even
if the plan and scope of the treatise had been
suggested by the editor of Knowledge, there
would still be i-oom for remarks on the way in
which the work has been done. But as a matter of fact,
the plan of the work was as entirely Captain Xoble's as the
execution has been.

We regard this book as one of the best introductions to

* " Half-hours with a 3-inch Telescope." By Captain AV. Noble,
F.R.A.S. LoDgmans & Co. : London.

May 2, 1887.]

KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

157

telescopic work extant. To use an American expression, it
fills the bill, and it does not more than fill it. Other works
there are which contain either too much or too little — that
is, considered with reference to the wants of the astronomical
student. Here tliere is enough to occupy the attention of
the amateur a.stronomer, while there is not enough either to
deter him, by suggesting the idea that an immense number
of objects must be studied before he can be regarded as
having fairly entered on astronomical research, or to engage
him in the time-wasting work of studying multitudinous
objects of the same class with no special purpose in view.
We happen to know that quite a number of intending
students of a-stronom}' have been driven from the proposed
pursuit by the mere aspect of works in which multitudes of
insignificant lunar details, thousands of records of planetary
observations, and myriads of measurements of close double
stars are recorded as matters worth studying. JIany times
we have been told that astronomy cannot be worth studying
(outside ofKcial observatories for commercial astronomy) if
for proficiency it lequires its students to devote days,
mouths, and years to

Collecting toys
And trities for choice matters, worth a sponge ;
Like children gathering pebbles on the shore.

Now in Captain Noble's book just about as much atten-
tion is directed to each subject as it fairly deserves, and this
has been done in such a way as to attract instead of repelling
the student. A student who works through the series of
observations described or suggested here will have done
fully as much as is necessary to prepare him for serious
work if he is able or inclined to enter on it. On the other
hand, should he be content, as most men must be, to regard
astronomy merely as a department of scientific study, he
will not feel that he has given more attention to the subject
than it fully merits. He will have derived much pleasure
from the work of observation, his views will have been
enlai'ged, and a measurable addition will have been made to
the value of life. (We take it the chief value of scientific
research outside definite gains from nature, resides in the
answer which the study of truth gives to the vain yet
persistent question, " Is life worth living?")

The introductory matter on the telescope is excellent,
though it might be usefully supplemented by certain
instructions which the beginner nearly always requiies
before he can get a telescope to work sjitisfactorily. In
particular, the telescopic study of the sun requires some
limits which Captain Noble has omitted to supply. His
suggestion that to diminish the risk of the dark glass crack-
ing, the apeiture of the telescope should be reduced from
three to two inches is sound enough so far as safety is
concerned ; but the plan involves a very serious diminution
of defining power. The chapter on the moon is admirable,
infinitely better calculated to attract students to the tele-
scopic study of our satellite than the big but dishearten-
ing treatises mentioned by our author. W^e are glad
to see by the way that he has put his foot down
very definitely in the matter of lunar nomenclature.
Four hundred names appear in the map and accompanying
ILst, and surelv four hundred are sufiicient. A study
of the moon in\ olving the examination of more and minuter
objects may he aptly compared in value to the enumeration
of individual hairs upon the tail of the conventional cow.
This we know would have seemed rank heresy to that dear
old lady Mr. Birt, and will be rejected scornfully by his
selenographical successors ; but we shall wait until their
elaborate work has added one single live fact to astronomical
knowledge before we admit that we have erred.

We note only one point in the chapter on the moon

which is open to question, and that does not belong to the
subject proper of Captain Noble's treatise. Ho mentions
as an inexplicable fact the notable darkening of the floor of
Plato towards and until shortly after the time of full moon.
We venture to deny that any such darkening takes place ;
and we are sure that if Captain Noble will follow our own
method of testing the matter, using a Dawe's eyepiece or
other device for getting rid of the effect of contiust, he will
be satisfied that his inexplicable fact is a very readily
explicable illusion. There is, however, a very simple proof
of this in lunar photographs. We possess a very fine series
of twelve photogi-aphs by Rutherfurd, showing the moon in
all her phases. A careful comparison of these shows un-
mistakably that the floor of Plato grows lighter, not darker,
as the sun's altitude above it incresises.

The chapters on the planets are excellent. They are as
interesting as the corresponding chapters in the first edition
of Webb's " Celestial Objects : " before that work was over-
loaded with uninteresting details, and so deprived of much
of its effective value. We observe that Captain Noble gives
the rotation-period of Mars as 21h. 37m. 22"735s. We
doubt veiy much whether jNIr. Proctor ever attached any
real value to the second and third decimal digits. The only
thing proved about the rotation of Mars is that in which ^Ir.
Proctor and the late Professor Kaiser of Leyden iigreed —
after the correction of two clerical errors of Kaiser's.
Comparing the observations made by Hugbens and Hooke
with those made in the years 186-t to 1882, the rotation
period of Mars has been shown to be 21:h. 37m. 22'7s.,
within certainly less than 0'05s. either way.*

The treatment of double stars in the chapter on " Fixed
Stars and Nebul<E " is admirable. Fifty double stars or so,
including all the typical varieties, are described and pictured
— enough to interest and instruct, not enough to weary.
In fact, with so simple and attracti\e a way of presenting
the subject, as manj' more might have been introduced, and
no harm done. Yet we aieglad that Captain Noble resisted
the temptation ; for though the student might have gone on
unwearied, he has, as it is, been taught the useful Ics.son,
much needed in such matters— ne quid nimis.

We do not care to note trifling con-itjenila or defects in a
work so excellent as a whole as this. We may mention,
however, that the method of drawing ellipses with pins and
a thread is not worthy of a place in Captain Noble's book.
With far less trouble than the student would have to take
in getting his pins rightly placed and the string of the right
length, a much better ellipse may be drawn. We speak
with some experience, having drawn many thousands of
ellipses. The construction for representing the gibbous
phase of Mars (see pp. 81, 82) is not quite correct: it is
better to give the true elliptical form to the terminator.
One other shght suggestion we would offer. It may seem
hypercritical, but we somewhat object to the description of
Mr. Ward's unusual keenness of sight as '•' almost super-
natural " and " quasi-miraculous." It is exceptional, pos-
sibly unique ; but the terms used by Captain Noble imply
that it is not merely marvellous in degree (as assuredly it is),
but in kind (which assuredly it is not).

* Others have since pretended to correct this by combining later
observations with the mean of other estimates, including Kaiser's
two estimates before the clerical errors were detected. But this
last mistake is manifestly absurd; and though each succeeding
opposition of Mars must necessarily enable us to improve our esti-
mate of the planet's rotation period, half a century at least must
pass before any correction amounting to one-twentieth of a second
can be introduced in this way. The estimates of William Herschel,
Miidler, Stcchi, and Schmidt were less exact than Proctor's and
Kaiser's (which were practically identical), but they were inde-
pendent ; those prollertd by Messrs. Denning and Bakhuysen have
no independent value whatever.

158

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[May 2, 1887.

tef=.^«rj|' H

II

Pm

^ ffij

^m

^^1

BIRTH AND GROWTH OF CHRISTIANITY.*

EADEES of Knowledge, since the first
monthly number appeared, will find much
to interest them in Mr. Janes's excellent,
carefully thought out, and well-written
treatise on the early history of Christianity.
He presents much of the evidence to which
we have only directed readers' attention,
not having here had space fully to consider it. He has
also collected much matter on which, in our treatment of
the subject, we have not hitherto touched.

The guiding idea of the work before us is that conveyed
in the maxim of Confucius, that " The superior man does
not set himself either /or anything or aijainst anything ;
what is right he will follow"; and again in the terser text
of Paul, " Test all things ; hold the good."

After a brief introduction, Mr. Janes sketches the con-
dition of Palestine in the Eoman peiiod, and the society
and religion of the Eoman Empire. In the first of these
chapters he presents, inter alia, interesting matter relating
to the Essenes. Though inclining to the belief, which we
must confess we do not share, that the doctrines and
practices of the Essenes originated in Palestine by a natural
evolution out of Pharisaic Judaism, he admits that obviously
Eastern notions, chiefly of Zoroastrian origin, had been
gradually creeping into the thought and faith of Israel.
The penetration of Buddhist ideas to the more earnest of
the Pharisaic separatists, after a process of filtration thi-ough
Zoroastrianism, seems to us a far more reasonable explana-
tion of Essenism than any process of evolution from
Pharisaic Judaism.

In the account of Religion in Eome, perhajas the most
interesting matter is that relating to oriental influences.
The success of the worship of Mithra, when introduced by
the Emperor Commodus towards the close of the second
century, is full of significance, especially when associated
with the influence which the worship of Serapis had had on
the Romans during two preceding centuries. Eenan goes
so far as to say that, " Had not Christianity taken the lead,
Mithracism would have become the religion of the world."
It is not absolutely certain, however, that the Christianity
which actually did find favour among the Eomans, or at
any late the ritualistic part of such Christianity, was not
simply the disguised worship of Serapis- — that is to say, sun
worship, and therefore Mithracism in another form. Mr.
Janes mentions, though with little idea apparently of the
significance of what he notes, that

Even after the secular ascendency of Christianity the ritualistic
worship of Mithra was handed down from age to age through the
esoteric order of the Kosicrucians and the secret societies of the
Middle Ages. The ceremonies observed in the worship of Mithra
are described by Tertullian, a Christian writer of about 200 A.D., as
strongly resembling the sacraments of the Church. The initiates
were admitted by a rite of baptism. They worshipped in little
chapels, similar to Christian churches. They made use of a species
of eucharist, eating the sacred bread, draOna, accompanied by
solemn religious ceremonies, while the neophyte was tested by
twelve consecutive penances. As in the Eleusinian Mysteries, the
doctrines of a life after death, the resurrection of the body, and
a future slate of rewards and punishments, were taught by Mithra-
cism. The influence of this new religion upon the thought and
literature of the time was absorbing and all-persuasive.

The Gnostics doubtless borrowed largely from Mithi acism ;
and the popular sects of Judaism are also thought to have
derived many of their rites and doctrines from kindred
mysteries, through Babylonia. The indirect influence of

* " Primitive Christianity." By Lewis G. Janes, Index Associa-
tion, Boston.

these conceptions upon the current and subsequent develop-
ment of Christian doctrine was doubtless considerable. The
leading Mithraic festival, celebrated at the winter solstice,
identical in time with the Eoman Saturnalia, was ultimately
assimilated by Chri,stianity, and recognised as commemo-
rative of the birth of Jesus, which the apostolic tradition
had assigned to the spring-time instead of the 25th of
December.*

Further on Mr. Janes makes the following pertinent
remarks on the pcsition of religion in the West and in the
East nineteen centuries ago : —

Eome, with her State religion — a hollow ecclesiasticism to the
more intelligent— stood ready, at the demand of self-interest, to
dethrone Jupiter, and to pass over the temples of her gods, her
images, her festivals, the paraphernalia of her priests, and the title
of Pontifex Maximus, then held by Ciesar as the head of the Pagan
oultus, to that new religion which, through the supremacy of the
emj^ire among the nations of the world, was soon to make such
mighty strides toward universal dominion. Her sculptured heads
of Jupiter were to descend to posterity, lechristened by the name of
.St. Peier, and her little god Vatioanus, whose function it was to
watch over the first lisping of infants, was to bestow his name upon
the Vatican — the palace of the Christian popes. The great Aryan
monotheism of Zoroaster had met in Babylon the great Semitic
monotheism of the Hebrew prophets, and, together with some more
questionable benefactions, had blessed it with its gift of a belief in
a life beyond the grave, and thus prepared the way for one of the
leading doctrines of Christianity. The word " Father "as applied to
the Supreme Being had entered Judaism from that other contact
with the Aryan races through the Greeks, and was used by Jewish
Eabbis of the century preceding the birth of Jesus. The Hebrew
doctrine of the Messiah had taken a new and more personal form
under the influence of contemporary Persian notions, and the
stimulus of foreign oppression. Millennial expectations imported
from Babylon were " in the air." The writers of the Book of Daniel
and the apocryphal Book of Enoch had applied the term " the Son of
Man"— a common designation of the prophets— to designate the
coming Messiah. Hillel had already proclaimed the "golden rule"
(" Do not to others what thou wouldst not they should do unto
thee ") as the substance and foundation of Judaism.

These two chapteis are only introductory to the body of
the work, in which the subject of the origin and progress of
Christianity is very fully and fairly considered. Mr. Janes,
while pointing out the impossibility of reconciling the
narratives in the three first Gospels, even with each other,
and the complete incongruity of the fourth Gospel, mani-
festly the work of a Gentile Gnostic, admits as genuine much
more of the specifically historic matter in the Synoptic
Gospels than we can for our own part accept. But he gives his
reasons, and shows how he has weighed them : he does not
mislead by dogmatic assertion. Of course he rejects as
manifestly developed from the .solar myth the whole account
of the birth and youth of Christ.

The following passage presents the general result to which
Mr. Janes has been led in regard to the character, the
opinions, and the views of the founder of Christianity : —

We have attempted, fairly, with no bias of preconceived opinions,
to set forth the leading features in the teaching of Jesus on its
theological side, as repotted in the Synoptical Gospels. While
recognising the fine humanity of his doctrine of the fatherhood of
God and the profound sincerity of all his beliefs, there is evidently
much in this teaching which the liberal and cultured thought of
modern times has for ever discarded, much that bears tie impress of
a primitive and ignorant age and of a narrow and restricted intel-
lectual environment. For us there is no encompassing host of
demons, no personal prince of evil, no bodily resurrection, no
eternal kingdom of immortals to be established upon the earth. If
we still hold to the fatherhood and personality of God, it is in quite a

* The cross was a Mithraic symbol long before the advent of
Christianity. It also constituted one of the eight altar implements
of the Buddhists, and from very early times had been recognised as
the sacred sj mbol of the god Nilus in Egypt. It is also of frequent
recurrence in those buried cities of the Troad which Dr. Schliemann
has recently exhtuned.

May 2, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

159

different sense from that embodied in the simple, anthropomorphic
conception of Jesus. The Messianic doctrine of the Jews is to us a
beautiful dream, which the Prophet of Nazareth did not fully
realise either according to the popular expectation or his own more
spiritual interpretation. Not in any of these theological conceptions
do we find the secret of the influence of Jesus upon the life and
thought of later generations.

THE

"SATURDAY REVIEW" ON
BEECHER.

OTHING Diore discreditable to English journal-
ism has appeared for years than the attack
made by the Saturday Review upon the
memory of America's great preacher, Henry
Ward Beeclier. It is not known in America
so well a.s it is in England that such attacks
in English journals have in reality been
directeii against Beecher rather as an advocate of a policy
not now fashionable in the old country, than against
Beeeher, the '" lapsed Congregationalrst " (whatever in-
tensity of reproach those " very bitter words" may imply).
Americans, thus ignorant of the real meaning of the attack,
can only wonder that the editor of a paper pretending to
any position in r&spectable journalism should have allowed
an article to appear which, apart from the bad taste shown
in every line, is so inanely irate that its venom is neutralised
by its folly.

If Mr. Beecher had been the feeblest preacher or teacher
that had ever addressed a congregation, if he had been even
the offensive blasphemer imagined in the Siiturday Review,
it would have been grossly offensive to dwell on such
shortcomings at a time when his own people were
mourning his loss. But Beecher was a man of
whom America was justly proud. What was said of
him in the Saturday Review might unfortunately be
very truly said of many preachers in America, as it
might be said of many in the old country. Too many
preachers in botli countries have striven to obtain a false
popularity by vulgar tricks, b}' coarse buffoonery, and by
scarcely veiled profanity. But Beecher was never one of
these. The Saturday Revieir even mistakes (if it does not
wilfully mis-state) in suggesting the idea that Beeeher strove
to attract his audiences by pulpit-jesting. The touches of
humour which may be noted in his sermons, as reported or
written, are characteristic enough, it is true, but he appealed
.always to the rea.soning iaculties of his hearers, not to their
•sense of fun or to their love of amusement.

Each Monday the leading papers in the United States
pubUsh the sermons of those who are regai-ded, rightly or
wrongly, as the leading American preachers. The bulk of
such matter is very poor reading. Most of the sermons thus
published are vulgar or sUly or offensively unchiistian. A
paragraph or two from one of Talmage's sermons will more
than nauseate a reader of average taste and intelligence by
its disgusting imagery, its charnel-house metaphors, its
illustrative references to ulcers, cancei-s, putrefaction, and
other unseemly matters. The vulgarity of the much-
followed " Sam .Tones," his amazing self-sufficiency, and the
way in which he condemns to eternal torments all who
differ fi-om him, cause even less than a paragraph of his
sermonising to thoroughly sicken all but the strongest-
stomached reader. And though others among the preachers
are not so bad as these, few manage to preach or to write
sermons which any one of taste or culture can read with
patience. But everything Beecher allowed to appear in
this way was worth attentive study. He was never
dogmatic or overbearing. He did not even seem to desire to

teach his hearers what they should believe or do. Always
his tone was as of one striving after the truth. He seemed
rather to ask, " Ought not u-e to think and act thus 1 " than
to say, " You ought thus to believe, and by these rules to
guide your conduct."

I have myself so intense a dislike to the usual tone of
preachers that my opinion of a man in Beecher's position
would be apt to be somewhat influenced by prejudice. I
recognise in myself here an idiosyncrasy which would tend
to make me unfair towards preachei-s generally, though I
can maintain conscientiously the position that in the great
majority of cases preachers, by the mere fact that they deem
themselves competent to teach other men their duty, are
objectionable in the sense in which the Pharisees seemed
objectionable to the founder of Christianity. Bat Beecher
belonged to that small minority among preaching men who,
while they possess great power of exposition and persuasion,
are more anxious to seek out the truth for themselves than
to convince their fellow-men. Herein I take it lay the
charm of his teaching and the secret of his influence, though
I can only guess this by reading his sermons, having never
heard him preach.

The Saturday Review quotes two passages from Beecher's
sermons as showing such inanity that to compare him even
with Mr. Spurgeon needs apology, which it proffers ; and
we all know what intensity of spite an apology from the
Saturday Review implies. One of these passages is admit-
tedl)- taken away from the context, and is thus so altered in
character as to be unmeaning. The other affords a rather
curious illustration at once of Beecher's turn of mind and
of the mistake into which the Satvrday Reviewer has fallen
(let us charitably suppose) in treating him as a humourist of
the pulpit. Said Beecher, speaking of Colenso's inquiries
into the Pentateuch, " What if there are mistakes in the
books ascribed to Moses ! If there are, the mistakes are
there : that is all. What if it shall be proved that Moses
did not write those books? Then it is proved that he did
not write them ; that is all. What if .some of tbe books
which have been by many men considered divinely inspired,
must be otherwise regarded ? Then we must not deem
them God's word ; that is all. And what are we to say of
tho.se that are still left? We must accept them as still left
us ; that is all." * If this were the beginning and end of
an argument, it would doubtless be unsatisfactory, except
for hearei-s quick to apprehend the underlying meaning.
But the words quoted form only part of a very character-
istic piece of pleading. Beecher appeals to men to accept
the truth as they see it, without the fear (implying want of
faith) that the truth can do them harm. Underlying his
appeal, we see the recognition of the way in which many
weakly strive to blind their eyes to the tiuth. Beecher
urges men to be less timid. Oh ye of little faith, he seemed
to say, wherefore do ye fear ? Why must you wish to offer
to God the unclean sacrifice of a lie ? That Beecher prac-
tised what he thus taught, and that he suffered for so
doing, is well known in America. The coarse abuse of
science, and especially of the doctrine of evolution, in which
Talmage and his fellows revelled, was undoubtedly much
more profitable for them than Beecher's ready, and even
reverent, recognition of demonstrated truths. But the
judgment of all the better sort of men approved the faithful
honesty of Beecher, impolitic though it doubtless was, and
scorned the pretended earnestness of hypocrites.

On one other point let me touch but for a moment. It
has been asked with much derisive sneering, how America

* The Saturday Review, speaking of this passage, says it declines
to recognise in it a specimen of American humour. As reasonably
might it be said of American wheat that it cannot be regarded as
good tobacco.

160

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[May 2, 1887.

can love and reverence a man whose name was dark-
ened by an accusation never wholly disproved. I know
not by what right a charge not wholly disproved can
be urged against a man's memory as though it were an
accusation fullv proved. Even had the charge been proved,
however, it would have been one involving no such deli-
berate iniquity, and suggesting no such innate depravity, as
average minds find in the conduct of one who (we are told,
and many believe) was loved above all other men by God.
If God could condone David's greater guilt of kindred
nature, covered (to men's eyes) by deliberatelj' planned
murder, men may surely forgive the lesser offence, which
for the moment is assumed to have been committed by
Beecher. But it is worthy of careful consideration that while
doubtless many thousands in America believe that Beecher
was guilty in that matter, the proportion of those who
utterly reject such belief is found to be gi'eater the nearer
we approach the centre of his ministry. At that centre all
believed and believe in bis innocence, seeing only the plots
of enemies in the attack upon his character.

THE LOUISIANA LOTTERY.

By Richard A. Proctor.

HE greed for chance-won wealth is so great
among men of weak minds, and they are
so large a majority of all communities, that
the bait may be dangled for them without
care to conceal the hook. In all lotteries
and gambling systems which have yet been
known the hook has been patent, and the
evil it must do if swallow ed should have been obvious. Yet
it has been swallowed greedily.

A most remarkable illusti-.ition of the folly of those who
trust in luck, and the cool audacity of those who trust
in such folly (with more reason but with more rascality)
is presented by the Louisiana Lottery in America. This is
the only lottery of the kind now permitted in America.
Indeed, it is nominally restricted to the State of Louisiana ;
but practically the whole country takes part in it, tickets
being obtainable by residents in every State of the Union.
The peculiarity of the lottery is the calm admission, in all
advertisements, that it is a yross and unmitifjated swindle.
The advertisements announce that each month 100,000
tickets will be sold, each at five dollara, shares of one-fifth
being purchasable at one dollar. Two commissioners-
Generals Early and Beauregard — control the drawings ; so
that — we are told, and may well believe — the drawings are
conducted with fairness and honesty, and in good faith to
all parties. So far all is well. "We see that each month, if
all the tickets are sold, the sum of 500,000 dols. will be paid
in. From this monthly payment we must deduct 1.(100 dols.
paid to each of the commissioners, and perhaps some
3,000 dols., at the outside, foi' advertising. We may add
another .sum of .5,000 dols. for incidental expenses, machinery,
sums paid to agents as commission on the sale of tickets, and
so forth. This leaves 490,000 dols. monthly if all the tickets
are sold. And as the lottery is " incorporated by the State
Legislature of Louisiana for charitable and educational pur-
poses," we may suppose that a certain portion of the sum
paid in monthly will be set aside to represent the proceeds
of the concern, and justify the use of so degrading a method
of obtaining money. Probably it might be supposed that
21 per cent, per annum, or i per cent, per month, would be
a fair retiu'n in this way, the system being entirely free from
risk. This would amount to 9,800 dols., or say 10,000 dols.,
monthly. Those who manage the lottery are not content.

however, with any such sum as this, which would leave
480,000 dols. to be distributed in prizes. They distribute
215,000 dols. less, the total amount given in prizes amount-
ing to only 265,000 dols. If the 100,000 tickets are all
sold — and it is said that few are ever left — the monthly pro-
fit on the transaction is not less than 225,000 dols., or 45
per cent, on the total amount received per month. This
would correspond to 540 per cent, per annum if it were paid
on a capital of 500,000 dols. But in reality it amounts to
much more, as the lottery company runs no risk whatsoever.
As I pointed out recently, in the Xeircastle Weekli/ Chronicle,
the Louisiana Lottery is a gross swindle, besides being dis-
reputable in the sense in which all lotteries are so. What
would be thought if a man held an open lottery, to which
each of one hundred persons admitted paid 5/., and taking
the sum of ."iOO/. thus collected, were to say : " The lottery,
gentlemen gamblers, will now proceed ; 265Z. of the sum
before me 1 will distribute in prizes, as follows " (indicating
the number of prizes and their several amounts) ; " the rest,
this sum of 235?., which I have here separated, I will put
into my own pocket " (suiting the action to the word) " for
my trouble and expenses in getting up this lottery." The
Louisiana Lottery is a ti-ansaction of the same rascally type
— not rendered more respectable by being on a very much
larger scale.

If the spirit of rash speculation will let men submit to
swindling so gro.-JS as this, we can scarcely see any limit to its
operation. Yet hundreds of thousands yield to the temptation
thus offered, to gain suddenly a large sum, at the expense of
a small sum almo.st certainly lost, and partly stolen.

THE NATURALIST'S LABORATORY.

CONTRIBUTION VII.
Labobatobt Furniture — (conchided).

HE student's workshop cannot be regarded as
even fairly well equipped unless adequate
provision is made for the convenient storage
of specimens, the reception of books and
instruments, and the temporarj' sheltering
of work in course of progression. Cabinets,
cases, and boxes, to meet each special want,
are thus found necessary, and it is therefore incumbent on
us to point out or describe the forms of the articles best
suited to the naturalist's requirements.

The old-fashioned cabinets replete with drawers, and
trays within the latter, can scarcely be improved upon for
holding geological or dry biological specimens. Each
drawer can he numbered and indexed with a list of its
contents, and when the trays are removed and placed upon
a table they show at a glance the various objects, which
may be displayed with as much effect as in the wall cases of
a public museum. Such cabinets ought to form the basal
moiety of the storage area, as shown bj' the accompanying
sketch, fig. 1. The upper portion of the case may con-
veniently be reserved for holding cases of instruments, such
as dissecting tools, microscopes, kc, in a large box made to
stand upon the top of the chest of drawers, and provided
with a hinged lid to open upwards, as shown in the side
plan, fig. 1, « ; the dotted line shows the position of the
opened lid. Upon the top of this instrument case there
should be piled a series of narrow boxes, c, fig. 1, each one
of which should be faced with a glass door hinged to its
upper edge, and made to open outwards and upwards, as
indicated by the dotted lines hhb, in the side plan (fig. 1).
These boxes will be found invaluable for the permanent

May 2, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

161

places of such articles required for constant use or reference,
and which are liable to be affected or destroyed by
even a nominal accession of dust ; e.g., the microscopist's
bottles of mounting media, staining reagents, spirit lamps,
the boxes used for the storing of microscopical slides, etc., the
best form of which will be detailed presently. The com-
ponent parts of the entire structure should be fastened
together with screws and bolts for the sake of firmness. It
need scarcely be added that the composite structure thus
built up may be made of any size to suit the particular
wants of any special laboratory, but the dimensions given
on the annexed diagrams will be found of service in nine
cases out of ten. The front elevation shows three such
cases placed side by side, from which it may be gathered
that, as the stores within the laboratory increase, the
dimensions of their future homes can as readily be added to.
Again, as each box (c, fig. 1 ) is complete in itself, it may at
any time be removed and replaced by one of greater or less

Gj.'--

D'i

■■6

h

^^i ,, a

Front elevation.

1 ft. 6 in.

Side section.

Fig. L— The Naturalist's Store Case.

c, upper boxes ; M, instrument box ; D, specimen chest ;

a, position of lid of instrument bos when opened;

bhb, position of lids of upper boxes when opened.

height. Apart from the portability of the structure, this
device is better calculated to guard against the incursion of
dust and dirt, which, as has before been noted, is of primary
importance to the practical students of nature. A large box,
constructed upon the book-case principle, with adjustable
shelves and large doors with panels of glass, will not be
found more convenient for ready access as may upon first
thoughts be imagined, and is furthermore prone to the
collection of quantities of dust which would necessitate
frequent and laborious cleansings. With the portable
boxes each set of appliances can be separately kept, easily
replaced, and each compartment can be separately wiped
out as occasion may arise. Another important advantage
to be gained by the adoption of the plan is, that the worker
can construct his own cabinet piecemeal from time to time,
with but very little skill, and at a very trivial expenditm-e.
The author was led to devise it gradually : he first of all
commenced by placing a series of small rough wooden
boxes, such as can be procured from any grocery or
oilman's stores, at the cost of from one to three-

pence a piece, one over the other, upon a cheap chest
of bedroom drawers. Certain of these boxes were set
apart for microscopical requisites, such as Canada-balsam
phials, spirit lamps, porcelain dishes for sections in course
of preparation, &c,, all of them necessitating a dust-proof
yet easily accessible lodging ; and these were accordingly
provided with small panes of glass framed, and hinged upon
the upper edge of each box. The central case for instru-
ments soon suggested itself, and an " egg-box " was found
which exactly fitted upon the top of the chest of drawers,
which were then all filled with geological chips. With but
scanty skill and a little taste the whole case may be ren-
dered a handsome piece of furniture, worthy of a well-
appointed laboratory. The insides of the boxes may bo
lined with pieces of white cardboard, and their ungainly
edges covered by a neat framework made of picture. frame
mouldings, sufficient of which can be procured for a few
pence. The cabinet of drawers, placed lowermost, may also
be made upon the portable [)lan, and the trays full of speci-
mens be virtually adapted from empty " soap-boxes," pro-
vided with framed glass lids, and divided into suitable
compartments within for each sepai-ate specimen. The
soap-boxes thus utilised can then be merely piled one over
the other loosely within each larger box, which forms an
integral part of the whole lower case. By degrees, all the
available floor-space adjoining the walls of the apartment
can thus be utilised to the best advantage, and there will
thus be aflbrded a highly suitable place for everything likely
to be required in the laboratory.

By a modification of the portable upper boxes into ordi-
nary cases of large size, fitted with adjustable shelves, ample
space will be provided for such books, pamphlets, and papers
as the worker may possess which bear upon the subjects
of his studies ; and similar shelves can be set apart whereon
to place bottles and jars containing specimens for display,
or working material, such as plants and animals in spirit,
ifec, mounted osteological and other preparations under glass
domes or cases, (tc.

One case of upper shelves may be set apart to hold
microscopical slides, upon the following improved prin-
ciple : — Take, for example, a collection of preparations
illustrative of the Rhizopoda. A small typical series may
be contained in two book-boxes labelled respectively Fora-
minifera and Radiolaria, placed endwise, as usual with
printed volumes, upon a shelf Each box, to take the
English standard sizes, may be made to hold cither twelve
or twenty-four slides, in an ordinary rack work within.
When the boxes are placed upright upon the shelf, the
slides will be horizontally disposed, and thus run no risk of
displacement of the objects, by gradual subsidence, as some-
times happens when the same boxes are laid flat upon a
table. An index of contents may be fastened upon the
inner side of the lid of the box, and with a little care the
student will soon fall into the good habit of numbering
each preparation, and always placing it in the slit corre-
sponding to that number upon the index. By the adapta-
tion of a simple movable wire, hooked at each end, and
capable of adjustment within eyelet holes, one at each
extremity of the box, as graphically explained by fig. 2, a
holdfast will be obtained, which can be removed and
readjusted with the utmost facility, secures each slide in its
place, and prevents it effectually from falling out of the
box, even when the latter Ls carelessly or suddenly opened.
The advantages of such a system are undeniable ; the
specimens are held firmly in a horizontal position, a sine
qud noil in the storage of such things, and any object
desired can be found at a moment's notice by a reference to
the outer title on the back edge of the box, and a glance at
its table of contents affixed to the inside of the lid. The

162

♦ KNOVS/'LEDGE ♦

[May 2, 1887.

forms of microscopical cabinet now in common use are,
many of them, both cumbersome and inefficient. The large
handsome . boxes with their sliding trays, it is true,
keep the slides in a horizontal ])osition, but that is about
all. The author was once the unhappy possessor of a piece
of furniture of this sort, but got rid of it on account of two
very grievous faults. The sliding trays, after exposure to
unlooked-for damp, became .slightly warped, and every time
that they were withdrawn or forced home a considerable
amount of jerking was occasioned, and terminated fatally

Fig. 2.

-Book Box for the Storage op Microscopical
Specimens.

for some of the choicest preparations within ; they were
thrown one upon the other, and became inextricably united.
Every time the ponderous case was moved the slides had to
be shifted into rack-boxes temporarily and then carefully
rearranged in the cabinet on arrival at the new destination ;
a labour by no means pleasant nor easy of performance
when the cabinet is a large one and well filled. Ordinary
small pine or mahogany cabinets, with divided lifting trays,
are all very well for very small collections, and when sets
of objects aie to be carried away for displays, &c. ; but their
presence upon the laboratory table in anything beyond one
or two cases is decidedly out of place, and most emphatically
"in the way."

In addition to the furniture, properly so called, for the
laboratory, there are various items whicli cannot either be
clas.sed under the heading now discussed nor as part and
parcel of the instruments which call for a description in the
future completion of these papers ; they necessarily waver
between the two, and will therefore foi'm the subject of the
next contribution as "laboratory requisites."

By Eichaed A. Proctor.

A Catholic (Roman) monthly magazine takes me to
task, in somewhat schoolboyish fashion, for questioning the
authenticity of the well-known passage in Tacitus, in which
the Christians are desoiibed as malefactors justly punished
as enemies of the human race, though so cruelly as to excite
the sympathies even of those who recognised their wicked-
ness. It lias always appeared to me, from the time when, as
a boy, I first became acquainted with this remarkable
" evidence of Christianity " (to use Paley's ungrammatical
expi'ession) that the friends of Christianity would rather it
were proved to be an interpolation than see it established as
genuine. Paley says that the words of Tacitus prove that
the founder of Christianity was put to death. If the pas-

sage is genuine, Tacitus slates that one Christus suffered
death in the reign of Tiberius, under the procurator Pontius
Pilate. But since Tacitus was born at least twenty years
after Tiberius died, and wrote his " Annals " more than
thirty years after the destruction of .Jerusalem, and more
than seventy years aftei' Pontius Pilate was ordered to
Rome (a.d. .37, because of bis harsh treatment of the fol-
lowers of an impostor who misled many Samaritans), it is
difficult to see how any statement of his about the origin of
Christianity can be regarded as proving anything. If the
passage is genuine, and a statement by Tacitus is to be
regarded as aflbrding proof demonstrative, then it must be
regarded as proved that the Christians in the time of Nero

(1) were held in abhorrence for their crimes ;

(2) were shown by their conduct to be veritably enemies

of the human race;
(.3) were held, even by the most tolerant, to be deserving
the .'Severest punishment.

* * *

Luckily there are abundant reasons for regarding the
statement as of no weight whatsoever, whether a forgery or
genuine. We know that at the beginning of the second
century, when Tacitus wrote his "Annals," many related
what his statement has been held to prove. He manifestly
had his information, if he wrote that statement at all, from
those who repeated what was currently said in his day about
the events of the days of Nero (who died when Tacitus was
quite a small boy). There was probably not a particle of
real evidence to show that the Christians, who very likely
were persecuted by Nero with the ferocity described by
Tacitus, were really malefactors, or even generally said to
have been so at the time of the persecution. It is impos-
sible to imagine that any records (of the slightest real value
as evidence) could have been accessible when Tacitus wrote
his " Annals," by which the actual circumstances of the
persecutions carried on by Nero could have been ascer-
tained.

If such evidence as that of the doubtful passage is to be
accepted at all, it must of course be accepted as it stands.
If it proves anything, it proves what the C'hristian would
prefer to see disproved.

* * *

The same Roman Catholic magazine recommends me to
read Bekker's remarks on the manuscripts of Tacitus, to
correct my judgment. But alas, that remedy can be of no
use to me, for it has been already applied in vain. Nothing
Bekker wrote half a century ago (my copy of his edition of
Tacitus is dated Leipzig, 1831) can controvert the ftxct that
the " Annals " of Tacitus have reached us in a most im-
perfect state, and that the genuineness of certain portions is
open to the gravest possible doubt.

* * *

My critic volunteers further the information that the
"Annals" were written in Latin, a language which admits
of no distinction between " Christ " and " The Christ."
I bad had .some inkling of this before. But the Latin
language was not so utterly feeble that Tacitus would have
been unable to show that the founder of Christianity was
called " The Anointed." Had he been as well informed
about the beginning of Christianity as Paley (for example)
would have us believe, he would undoubtedly have said that
the Christians were so called because the founder of their
religion, a man named Jesus, had been called Christ, which
in the Greek tongue signifies Anointed. To a monkish
interpolator, accustomed — as we are in our own day — to
speak of Jesus the Christ as simply Christ, nothing would
be more natural than to write as Tacitus is supposed to

May 2, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

163

have written. But nothing could well have been more
unlike Tacitus than to use a Greek adjective as a proper
name, if he had really known anything about the history
of the founder of Christianity. And if he did not know
anything, or knew so little, what value can his testimony
possess ? What even can it prove, if accepted ?

* * *

Writixg at this moment away from my books (in Florida,
far from any large library), 1 cannot state precisely how far
the version of the " Annals " discovered about the year
1505 in the Westphalian Abbey of C'orvey differs from
others. But it is hardly necessary to remind the reader that
we only know of the first five books of the " Annals " from
this version, published at Rome by Philip Beroaldus, in
1515, as nearly as I can recollect.

* * *

What would be said, I wonder, if the confidence with
which Paley accepts the statement found in Tacitus were
extended to the passage in which the Emperor Hadrian,
writing to Servianus (ad. 134), after speaking with some
contempt of Egypt and the Egyptians, says, '" The
worshippers of Serapis (in Egypt) are called Christians,
and those who are (consecrated) to the god Serapis call
themselves (I find) the Bishops of Christ."

* * *

Macrobius (Sat. i. 20) identifies Serapis with the sun.
There were two forms of the worship of Serapis, a circum-
stance which led Jablonsky (" Pantheon," vol. i.) to identify |
what lie regarded as the later form with the worship of the
sun in the winter signs of the zodiac. But he was probably
misled by the references in the Egyptian ritual to the
observances at the time of the sun's annual birth (assigned
to the date December 25, as the time when first the stay of
the sun's southward progi-ess was ascertained, and the
beginning of his return towards the equator recogni.sed).
The worship of Serapis found attractions for both Greeks
and Romans. But for some reasons it was regarded as
evil, insomuch that, tolerant though the Roman Senate was
in matters relating to religion, the worship of Egyptian gods
was forbidden, and orders were issued that the altars and
temples erected to them should be destroyed. Later the
worship of Isis and Serapis was permitted. This was about
a century before the time to which the passage attributed to
Tacitus relates.

It may be mentioned here, as at least curious if not sig-
nificant, that Socrates the ecclesiastical historian (" Ecd.
Hibt." lib. 5, cb. xvii.), writes as follows respecting the
temple of Serapis : —

" In this temple, now destroyed and everywhere rifled,
certain letters were found engraved in the stones — forming
a cross. The Christians and Gentiles who saw this, applied
it each to their own religion. The Christians asserted that
this cross symbolised the passion of Christ, and was the
emblem of their religion. The Gentiles affirmed that in
this symbol was presented something belonging in common
to Serapis and to Christ."

The critic who has explained to me that the " Annals "
of Tacitus were written in Latin may now very properly
explain to me that Socrates was a philosopher who, as he
was born 469 yeai-s before the (.'hristian era, can hardly be
described as an ecclesiastical historian. However, the
Socrates I have quoted was born about nine centuries later.
Sozomen, about fifty years earlier, gave much the same
account of the Egyptian Serapis. His history ranges from
A.D. 32-1 to A.D. 439, that of Socrates from a.d. 30G to
A D. 439.

That the cross on our modern hot-cross bun is of
Egyptian origin is of course known to all — see, however,
Bonwick's " Egyptian Belief," and Colenso on the Penta-
teuch, ifec. It is equally well known that originally this
symbol had no connection with Good Friday, but belonged
specially to every Friday, Friday being the day consecrated
to Freya, Venus, Isis, itc.

* * *

Here is rather an odd coincidence. I was beginning
to deal with the solution of the second of the problems
dealt with this month, when it occurred to me that the
work would be easier if I had a number of globes which I
could arrange as pyramids, either square based or triangular,
according to the requirements of the problem. As the
thought passed through my mind, I remembered that it was
very close to post time, and I went out to post some letters
I had written, thinking I would reason out a solution, or
rather the best form of presenting one, as I walked to the
post otfice and back. This was at Lake Weir in Florida.
As I crossed the threshold of the hotel, I saw a friend
approaching in a buggy, with whom I shook hands. He
had in his left hand a sack about half full ; and he said,
" Professor, I've brought you a few (?) oranges." I thanked
him, and after a short chat walked on to the post office —
not thinking of my problem, because I knew the oranges
would be just what 1 had wanted, and that I could study
the problem much better with them to build into pyramids
than without their aid. And so it proved. They were
better than globes, because when stood on the stalk side
they did not roll. I do not know what idea my friend had
formed of my orange-eating capacities, but he had brought
me enough to make two pyramids, one triangular, the other
square based, each of four oranges in the side, and this
after setting on one side all the smaller and all the larger
oranges, so that only oranges of medium size might be used.
Observe, also, that oranges were about in such profusion
that I could find no one to whom I could present any.
Moreover, I was to leave Lake Weir in two days, and my
valise was very closely packed already. As a mere matter
of fact, I may mention that I did not eat all those oranges.

Popular Tales and Fictions. By W. A. Clouston,
(William Blackwood k Sons.) — Mr. Clouston has done good
service to folk-lore by the collection of the rich material
garnered in these handsome volumes. We can readily credit
that his chief difliculty in selection has arisen from the super-
abundance of that material, and the judgment which he has
shown leads us to hope that he will continue his laborious
but delightful work. His own modest assessment of it, and
general abstinence from theorising, will secure him readier
hearing for that which is added as comments upon, and
conclusions from, the data jiresented. Mr. Clouston feels his
way wisely, therefore cautiously, but, in so far as theories of
the origines of folk-tales lead him, he inclines to the school of
Benfey and Cosquin, which contends that for the most
part those tales arose in, and were diffused from, India. We
are as yet a very long way from the last word on this
matter. Story-telling thrives in the East, but it also thrives
wherever man has risen to the social state. 3Ioreovei-, if
we assume that the great body of folk-tale common to the
Indo-European races has its source in the old Aryan home,
we must remember that scholars are not agreed as to
whether that home was in Europe or Asia. Neither can
we tell how many older and foreign tributaries mingled
with the main stream of grotesque fancy and uncultured

164

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[May 2, 1887.

imagination -which fertilised the highways of human life in
a pre-historic pait. In considering this question, two
things have to be borne in mind, one general, the other
special, in its application. We find races at corresponding
levels of culture explaining like plienomena in much the
same way, and thus we may account for parallel lines of
thought and striking resemblance in the myths and legends
of races between whom no intercourse h.as been possible
for unnumbered centuries, and we should therefore differ
from Ml-. Clouston in his exception of many tales even
of common life, allowing for local differences, from this
explanation. As to the special bearings of the question,
let it not be forgotten that the Eurasian continent was
peopled with races in no mean stage of culture long before
Aryan and Semite attained historic prominence. It is on
this older culture, -which obtrudes or overlaps in many a
persistent type of race and many an archaic belief, that the
higher civilisation rests. Rich veins await the smelting iire
of sober inquiry which shall extract the secret of their
deposit, and to this work the efforts of students of human
progress -wUl, we feel persuaded, be increasingly directed.
But we must not take leave of Mr. Clouston after this
inadequate notice without heartily commending his volumes
to the attention of all such workers, as also to a wider
class, for the feast of good stories therein.

The Geological and Geographical Distribution of Animals.
By Professor Angelo Heilprin. (Kegan Paul, Trench
& Co.) — In this newest addition to the well-known Inter-
national Scientific Series we have an excellent compendium
of the facts of past and present distribution of animal life.
The principles and phenomena of this distribution have
received copious exposition in the important works of
Wallace, Sclater, and other authorities, but .science knows
no finality, and Professor Heilprin has embodied enough
fresh material to render his book -welcome and opportune.
He has made some essential alterations in the arrangement
of the great zoological regions into which naturalists
commonlv divide the land area of the globe, and his book is
enriched by an interesting discussion on the origin of the
pelagic or deep sea fauna as the modified descendants of
primary shore fauna. The important light thrown upon the
theory of derivation by a study of the conditions deter-
mining the distribution of life is familiar to students of
Mr. Darwin's works — in fact, as is well known, it was the
observation of the fauna of the Galapagos Islands as com-
pared with that of South America, the nearest mainland,
which gave so great an impetus to his investigations.

Through the Fields with Linnceus. By Mrs. Florence
Caddy. (Longmans.) — The title of this book led us to
expect a ramble by flowery meads, whereas it turns out to
be a prosy and padded account of the career of the great
botanist. It is difficult to see for what class of readers Mrs.
Caddy is catering, since her book is too tedious to interest the
general reader, and too flimsy to be of service to students of
the science in which Linnaeus holds foremost place.

Woodland Tales. By JfLlus Stixde. Translated by
Ellis Weight. (Fisher Unwin.) — The issue of this smooth
and pleasant translation of Dr. Stinde's short sketches is
probably due to the enormous success of his " Buchholz
Family." But though his sketches are short, they are not
.slight ; the workmanship in each is thorough, the subjects
are all more or less touching, sometimes, as in " Brother
.Johannis," bordering on the terrible. The sombre scenery
of the forest invests them ; the weirdness and pathos of
forest.life informs them ; and the novel-reader, bored with
the small talk and tedious analysis of much of the stuff
which Mudie sends him, should read these " Woodland
Tales " with fresh appetite.

Sonnets Round the Coast. By H. D. Rawxsley.
(Swan Sonnenschein & Co.) — In these poetic seascapes Mr.
Rawnsley has skilfully avoided the risk of monotonous treat-
ment of that perilous subject — descriptions of the ocean —
by availing himself of the rich significance of material
which fringes our coast in historic relic of abbey, shrine,
and grave ; as well as of the equally suggestive material
supplied by quaint tradition and heroic deed. The sonnets
betoken a cultured mind, and are marked both by vigour
and freshness of thought, as well as by grace of expression ;
notably so in those which have certain aspects of nature for
their theme.

The Perfect Way ; or, The Finding of Christ. By
Anna B. Kingsford, M.D., and Edward Maitland, B.A.
(Field & Tuer. ) — This book is printed in type of remark-
able beauty, and altogether produced in a style " regardless
of expense." But what meaning may lie in it, if there be
one at all, only astral spirits, such as the authors claim
to possess, may fathom. To otir terrene and unillumined
mind it is a farrago of cabbalistic rodomontade.

A Concise Histori/ of Etiglfind and the English Peoph.
By the Rev. Sir G. W. Cox, Bart., M.A. (London : Joseph
Hughes. 1887.) — Admitting to the full the modest
allegation in Sir George Cox's preface that " a history of
England given in a few hundred pages must necessarily be
a sketch," we must, in common fairness, add that he has
shown how, in such a sketch, a large amount of
really valuable historical information may be conveyed
in a lucid and very readable form. A leading cha-
racteristic in his treatment of the events he describes,
is his fairness and impartiality. Comparatively few-
clergymen, we venture to think, could be found to narrate
the events of the reign of Charles I. in so absolutely calm
and judicial a spirit as our author has done. He has pro-
duced a work of real value to the incipient student of the
history of his own country.

The Making of Xeiv England. By Samuel Adams Drake.
(London : T. Fisher Unwin. 1886.) — In a very simple,
but not on that account less interesting manner, ISIr. Drake,
who is an American, tells the story of the colonisation of his
native land, from the time of its discovery by Sebastian
Cabot down to the date of the Confederacy of 1643.
Copiously illustrated with maps, plans, views of localities,
and engravings of people and objects of archoeological
interest, this volume may be read with jjrofit and advantage
by all who care to learn how slowly and painfully New
England was peopled from the Old Country, and in what
humble beginnings the vast American Republic had its
origin. So far the tale has never been better told for educa-
tional purposes.

Joint Scientific Papers of James Prescott Joule, D.C.L.,
LL.D., F.R.S. Vol. 11. (London: Taylor & Francis.
1887.) — Three years ago (Knowledge, Vol. V., p. 245)
we reviewed in these columns the first part of the noble
contribution made to the advancement of science by the
Physical Society of London in the shape of their reprint
of the scientific papers of our immortal physicist, James
Prescott Joule. As we write, the second volume lies before
us. In it we find the details of Joule's experiments on the
mechanical powers of electro-magnetism, steam, and horses,
made ostensibly in conjunction with Dr. Scoresby, but
practically performed by Joule himself; his investigations,
conducted with the aid of Sir Lyon Playfair, on atomic
volume and specific gra\dty ; and a mass of other researches,
chemical and thermo-dynamical, the latter performed with
the co-operation of Sir Wm. Thomson. Nothing is more
striking than the absolute thoroughness of all Joule's work.
It was this very thoroughness, and the scientific conscien-

Mat 2, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE

IGo

tioiisness of its author, which established its results on so
irrefragable a basis and marked so verj' notable an epoch in
the progress of physical science. These volumes will always
possess an interest, as embodying the details of the re-
searches of one of the most able und remarkable scientific
men of the present century, and one who was in the truest
sense of the word an epoch-maker in physics.

Geography made Easy. By John Gibson, M.A. Third
Edition. (London : Eelfe Brothers.) Public Examination
Scripture Manuals — Si. Matt/iew's Gospel, St. Mark's Gos-
pel. By Arthur Riches, F.R.A.S., F.R.G.S. (London :
Relfe Brothers.) T/te Mtisician: a Guide for Pianoforte
Students. By Ridley Prentice. Grade YI. (London :
Swan Sonnenschein & Go. 1887.) — These are three educa-
tional works, each carefull}' and thoroughly done, and suited
to the wants of the student.s whom they address. In the
case of Mr. Prentice's work, such students must, however,
be very advanced ones.

Uonie Rule " Wrinkles " for Ladies. By Aunt Betsy.
(London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey & Co. 1887.) — In
this tiny manual " Aunt Betsy " gives a variety of very
useful hints indeed to young wives, mothers, and house-
keepers. Its trivial cost places it within the reach of all
such, and is out of all proportion to the real value of its
contents.

Easy Guide to the Principal CoiMtellations and Stars
visible in Great Britain. By E. W. (London : Griffith,
Farran, Okeden & Welsh.) — This cheap little sheet forms a
capital primer for familiarising the very beginner with the
face of our English night sky. It is very well done, and
will be found really useful by those who wi.sh to learn the
chief stars visible in this country.

The Artist's Manual of Pigments. By H. C. Standage.
Second Edition, revised. (London : Crosby Lockwood &
Co. 1887.) — The commendation we bestowed upon the first
edition of Mr. Standage's valuable practical work (Know-
ledge, vol. ix. p. 259) may be unhesitatingly extended to
it in its revised and improved foim. No painter's library
can be held to be complete without it.

Suggestive Lessons in Practical Life. Fourth Series.
(Smith it Elder.) — This volume completes a very useful
series, and we are happy to extend to it the unqualified
praise given to its predecessors. We have received from
the same publishers Tolume X. of the Dictionary of Xational
Biography, on the rapid progress of which spirited under-
taking we congratulate them. We have also to acknow-
ledge a new volume of the " Book Lover's Library " ; The
Dedication of Books, by H. B. Wheatley (Elliot Stock),
with its choice selection of some famous ancient and modern
dedications, from Shakespeare downwards, to friends and
patrons ; Immoilesty in Art, a Letter to Sir Frederick
Leighton, by Rev. F. G. Lee, to whom we may commend
Browning's " Parleying? " ^oth Francis Furini ; Babies'
Crairling Rugs, and How to Make Them, by E. S.
Windsor (Griffith k Fari-an) — homely and practical;
JacksoiUs Vertical Writing Copy Books (Sampson Low &
Co.) — a good idea well carried out ; Part II. of the Smith-
sonian Report, 1884 ; The American Xaturalist, in which is
the opening paper of what promises to be a valuable series
on the '■ Significance of Sex." Of papers in the current
number of the Century Magazine everybody will read Mark
Twain's amusing but humiliating paper on " English as She
is Taught," and the discerning few will not skip Professor
Whitney's article on the " Veda." St. Xicholas is up to its
high average, and in Longman's Mr. Rider Haggard keeps
us at fever heat as to the fate of Allan Quatermain and his
co-adventurers, while Mr. Louis Stevenson gives a delight-
ful sketch of an old Highland shepherd.

We have also on our table Dr. Richardson's Asclepiad
(London : Longmans k. Co.), with an excellent article of
great popular interest on " Natural Selection for Science
and for Art." The Medico-Legal .Journal, New York.
The Jottrnal of the Xnlional Fish Culture Association
(London : The Blackfriars Printing and Publishing Com-
pany, 1887), interesting to all concerned in the develop-
ment of an almost unlimited source of valuable food.
Practical Hints on House Drainage (London : The Scientific
Publishing Company, 1887), useful to hou.seholders when
sanitary arrangements are in any way defective ; and the
Report of the Papers read and Discussions at the Conference
of the Camera Club (same publishers).

#ur Ci)fei£{ Column.

By " Mephisto."

INTERNATIONAL CHESS CONGRESS.
^^^^^gp HE programme has been issued of the fifth bi-
' f^trfrraS > annual Congress of the German Chess Associa-
■^^ (T»%J*'1 jj^^^ which will assemble at Frankfurt on July 17.
There will be plentj' of attractions in the shape
of various minor tournaments for those amateurs
who may wish to make the Congress an excuse for
spending their holidays on the Rhine. The prin-
cipal event, however, will be the loternational
Masters' Tournament. The prizes are oOl ,
Sll. \0s., -Jol., lol; 10/., 71. 10s. Conditions are, as usual, twenty
moves an hour, play from nine till one and four till eight, three
games to be played in two days, each player to play with every other,
drawn games to count half, Sec. There is also a prize of ol. for
the most brilliant game, generously given by Mr. P. H. Lewis.

I venture to predict tbat this tournament will prove a greater
success than any former meeting. There are various causes which
will bring this about, despite the fact that the prizes are small
when compared with those given by the British Chess Association.
If I may make use of a paradoxical assertion, I would say it is
nearer for Englishmen to go from London to Frankfurt than it is
for Germans to travel from Frankfurt to London. Frankftu-t is
centrally situated, and living there being cheap, many of the
strong Viennese players w'ill, no doubt, attend. Others, again, will
go for the purpose of enjoying a holiday. But, in reviewing the
chess masters of the day before our mind's eye, we have no doubt
that there will be at least two of the young players in Berlin
who will join the masters. The probabilities are that Herr von
Bardeleben, of Berlin, and M. Tschigorin, of St. Petersburg — two
players of the highest order — who did not compete on the last
occasion at Hamburg, in 1S8.">, may do so now. We may
predict with certainty that M. Taubenhaus, from Paris, will
participate, and, according to all accounts, he as well as
the other rising players mentioned have greatly improved, and
will make a stout attempt to wrest the laurels from the older and
more experienced masters, the same as Gunsberg succeeded in doing
in 'So at Hamburg. We hope to welcome another fresh chess com-
petitor at these tournaments in Mr. Lipshutz, from New York, who
made his first successful debut at the B. C. A. meeting in London
last year. England, if we are not mistaken, will also send her
usual contingent of players, reinforced this time probably by Pollock
and Burn, both players of high merit, who did not compete in any
former masters' tournament in Germany. Zukertort may perhaps
be induced to take part, for the simple reason that, where there is
such a plethora of chess talent, a true chess-player will naturally be
disinclined to allow himself to be excluded by mere monetary con-
siderations. All these probabilities favour the assumption that the
Chess Congress at Frankfurt wiU be a great success.

"THE CHESS PROBLEM."*

Of chess-books written in the English language it may well be
said that many that are written are not desired, and a few that are
desired are not written. The book before us is eminently a desirable
work. It contains iOO problems, comprising 2, 3, 4, aud 5 movers,
suimates, and prize problems, the composition of the four eminent
English problemists mentioned above. These form a valuable col-
lection of fine problems, alike interesting to the lovers of problems

* Text-book with Illustrations containing Four Hundred Problems
selected from the works of H. .1. C. Andrews, E. N. Frankenstein,
B. G. Laws, and C. Planck. Cassell & Company, Limited, London.

166

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[May 2, 1887.

and instructive to composers. To this collection is added a treatise
teaching how to malie problems, and consequeully how to achieve
fame. In the words of the authors : — " Hitherto no chess work
explanatory of the problem art has issued from the home press. . . .
Tlie essay contained in these pages, although emanating from the
pen of Mr. Planck, has, after discussion and modification, received
the assent of his colleagues, and may therefore be considered as
representing the well-digested conclusions of four trained minds
upon the most important questions relating to the cbess problem
in its modern form." We hope that no problemist will omit to
obtain these " well-digested conclusions," for well-digested con-
clusions are in one respect similar to malted food (so ably explained
by Mr. Mattieu Williams) — they are both easily assimilated. Ap-
pended are four examples taken from the bQok, from which it will
lie seen what a great amount of enjoyment may be derived from
possessing these 400 brilliant chess problems : —
By H. J. C. Andrews.

WinrF.

ilate in ihiee

■83 0} a •[

By E. W. Fkankenstein.
Black

By B. G. Laws.
Black.

:^

White Whiic.

Mate in two. Mate in two.

•tD o^a l -SH 01 b ■[

By C. Planck.
Black.

White.
Mate Id three.

In connection with the above we have to male the melancholy
announcement of the death of Mr. H. J. C. Andrews, which occurred
recently. Mr. Andrews was an exceptionally-gifted problem
compo.'Jer, whose experience extended over forty years of work
and gratuitous labour for the sake of chess. His death has called
forth universal expressions of regret and esteem.

The following game was recently played in a Handicap Tournament
at the British Chess Club :—

Whiie.
H. Zukertort.
P to Q4
Kt to KB.S
P to K3
B to Q3
P to QKt3
B to Kt2

Bl.\ck.
J. Gull^berg.
P to Q4
P to KH
Kt to KB3
Pto B4
Kt to B3
PxP

(An undesirable capture.)

9.

10.
II

PxP

Castles
P to B4
PxP
QKt to Q2

12. R to Bsq

B toQ3
Castles
PxP
Pto QKi3
B to Kt2
B to B5
(Early aggression. R to
Bsq was good.)

13. P to Kt3 Kt to QKt5

(Looks showy, but results
in loss of time, as tlie Kt
has to retreat presently )

14. B to K2 B to R3 .'
lo. Q to R4 ! Ktto R3?

(B X KKt, or Kt to B3 is
better — leaves Black with
a well-ileveloped position.)

16. KR to Qsq Kt to Ktsq?

(Lamentable delusion.)

1 7. Kt to K.5 Kt to K5

(Missing another cliance by
B X Kt. 18. R X B, Kt
to K5. 19. R to Qsq,
Kt to Kt4, &c.)

18. Pto B4 Pto B3

19. Kt to Kt4 Kt X Kt

20. R V Kt Kt to Q2

21. Q to Kt3 Ktto B4
(Again results in loss of time.)

22. Q to K3 Kt to K.5

23. KR to Qsq R to Ksq

24. B to B3 Kt to Q3

(White has got his Q and
R better posted.)

25. Kt X B (eh) P v Kt
2C. B to R5 Kt X P.

Bl.^i k

J.

27.
28.

(Making a virtue out of the
necessity to escape from
a bad position.)

White. Black.

H. Zulierb irt. J. Gunsberg.

R X Kt Q to Q4

Q to K2 KR to QB.sq

(Unfortunately for Black,

White can check with his

Q on Kt4, whereby he

escapes the consequences

of B to R3.)
KR to QBsq R x R
R X R Q to R8 (ch)

K to B2 Q X P (ch)

K to Ksq Q X P (ch)

Q to B2 Q to R6

B to K2 B to Q4

((Necessary to stop the rn-

coveriiig of the B liy

P to Q5,)
R to B7 K to Rsq

K to Q2 R to KKtsq

R to B3 Q to B4

(Tlie choice lay between

this move and Q to RS.)
R to KKt3 R to QBsq

B to Q3
P to B5 !
BxP
B to Q3
Q to B4
QxRP

Q to R4
PxP

R to KBsq
Q to B2 1
R to Ksq
Q to K2

Black.

Whitk.

4.5. R to K3 Q X R (ch)

46. Q X Q R X Q

47. K X K B X P

(The game is lost, but it
was wrong to take this
1' as the B thereby gets
quite out of play.)

48. B to K4 K to Ktsq

49. P to Q5 P to B4
(Unnecessary.)

.50.

B to B3

Kto B2

51.

KtoB4

K to K2

.52.

KxP

P to R4

53.

K toK5

P to Kt4

54.

P to Q6 (ch)

K, to Qsq

55.

B to Q4, and

White

won.

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge " aa a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indie!=i and South America 9 0

To tlie East Indies, China, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &c. 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent. Canada, United Stutws,
and Egypt, the Subacription is 78. fid., an horetofore:

Mat 2, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

167

©ur (IMWt Column,

By "Five op Clubs."

MATHEW.S OX WHIST.
(_Continned from p. 120.)
Leading Trumps.
remains that the question of leading trumps should
be considered.]

It is difficult to judge when to lead trumps.
The following situations will assist the beginner to
reason, and in general direct him properly [though
they do not include all the cases in which it is
generally proper to lead trumps] : — •

1. Wiih six trumps, on the supposition that your
partner has a strong suit.

2. If you are strong in other suits, though weak in trumps.

3. If your adversaries open weak suits.

4. If your adversaries have scored three,* andyouhave no honour,
or probability of making a trump by a ruff.

[In the fourth case, the lead of trumps is good for the reason that,
unless your partner is strong in them, tbe gdme is probably lost, and
i£ he is strong in them, you do well to lead them to him.]

[Mathews says specially that unless you have sis trumps you should
not lead trumps, unless either you or your partner have a strong suit.
Modern play recognise Bve trumps, with or without strength in your
own hand, as usually affording sufficient reason for a trump lead —
except when you are playing for the odd trick, when it is generally
well to wait before leading trumps, to see whether the required
tricks may not be more safely secured by a ruffing game.]

In playing for an odd trick, you play a closer game than at
other scores. You lead from single cards [modern Whist rejects
this], and force your partner, when at other times such a course
would not be justified [that is, even when you have reason to think
he has length in trumps]. Hence it is seldom proper in this case
to lead trumps.

[I must, however, take this occasion to note that the rule
often laid down that you should refrain from leading trumps when
you require but the odd trick would not be regarded as always to be
"followed. The very circumstance that by leading trumps the
chance of securing the odd trick through a ruff or two may often
be lost, shows that by leading trumps you may often deprive the
enemy of the chance of making the odd trick by ruffing ; and if
yon prevent the enemy fiom making the odd trick you commonly
secure it for yourself and partner]

Do not lead trumps merely because an honour is turned up on
your left, nor be deterred from leading trumps because an honour
is turned on your right hand. Either lead is proper if the circum-
stances of your hand require a trump lead ; but neither otherwise.
[Mathews's dictum is a little too positive. There can be nothing
much more absurd than the practices he deprecates — that is, leading
or refraining from leading trumps because of an honour turned up
to left or right ; yet the fact that an honour certainly lies on your
loft may make a trump lead, otherwise inexpedient, permissible,
while an honour certainly on your right may make an otherwise
expedient trump lead undesirable. The known position of an
honour must be taken into accoimt, and dealt with for what
it may be worth.] There is a certiin advantage in leading
through an honour, as Mathews himself shows, by noting that
" it is as advantageous to lead up to as through an Ace ; not so
advantageous to lead up to a King as up to an Ace : and disadvan-
tageous to lead up to a yueen.'] [Xote, also, that the trump card
may cause a deviation from the general rules for leading. Thus, if
the trump leader holds Ace, King, ten, nine, with or without others,
and the Queen or Knave was turned on his left, be would do well to
lead the lowest of the ten, nine, sequence. If the honour is put
on, he has at the next round a finesse against but one card. On the
other hand, such a lead would be absurd if the Queen or Knave had
been turned on the right.]

If you have the trump Ace, and the circumstances of your hand
require two certain leads in trumps, lead the Ace, let the
other trumps be what they may. [Be careful about the clrcam-
stances, however.] [Per cuntru. if the adversaries lead trumps, and
yoQ hold Ace and one or two others, put on the Ace at once ; but]
with the Ace and tliree other trumps, it is seldom right to win the
first or second trick, unless your partner ruffs some other [when you
put on your Ace to give him a ruff].

If you have Ace, King, and two more trumps, and your partner

* Mathews, who deals with long whist, says here, of course, " if
your adversaries are at the point of eight," but the same rule would
guide in short whist, when they have scored three.

leads them originally, insure three rounds in trumps ; but if he lead
(in consequence of your showing your strength) a nine or any
equivocal car<l, pass it tbe lirst time ; by this you have the lead
after three rounds of trumps — a most material advantage.

When with a very strong suit you lead trumps, hoping your
partner may command them, show your suit first. But it you have
strength in trumps in your hand, lead trumps first. With only four
trumps, do not lead one unless your strong suit is established.
With tierce major and another trump, however, and a sequence of
three or more to the King, it is well to lead trumps twice, and then
the Knave [or lowest of the head sequence] of your suit, continuing
till the Ace is out. [It is only advisable, however, to lead the
lowest of the head sequence in the plain suit, when you hold five
cards or more in it.]

Play Second Hand.
There are points where good players disagree. Some play what
is called a forward, others a more timid game. Some commonly
put on a king second, others but rarely. In these cases a man may
play either way without committing error, but where all good
players are of the same opinion it should be received as an axiom.
So good player puts on a Queen, Knave, or ten second ; of course,
this should be on all occasions carefully avoided. [It seems clear
that though Mathews includes the case of the Qaeen, Knave, or ten
with but one small one, he is here speaking generally, as in deahng
with the play of King second hand. It would appear that in his
day for play second hand the old-fashioned rule, •' King ever. Queen
never," was held as a general rule, where it was held ai aU.
Nowadays, except where a s-maller honour is led, no one thinks of
putting on King, Queen, or Knave second hand, if holding two or
more small cards. Nor does any recognised whist authority now
sanction the play of King, Queen, or Knave second band when there
is but one small card— except when a lead is specially wanted.]
On this point Mathews deals specially elsewhere, saying, with King
and one more good players sometimes put on King stcond, some-
times not. If it is the tiump card it should invariably be put on
[this is no longer held], and generally it is good to play King, from
King one other, in trumps. [This held till Clay's time, but is now
discountenanced.] Queen or Knave should never be played [from
Queen or Knave, one other], except in trumps, when a superior
honour has been turned up on the right. It is interesting to notice
thus how early the rule now accepted by all good players was
recognised by skilful whist strategists as soucd.

With Ace, Queen, ten of your right-hand adversary's lead, put on
the ten. [The modern rule is, the ten in trumps, the Queen in plain
suits.] With Ace, Queen, and others, not including the ten, put on
a small one, unless he leads the Knave in which case put on the
Ace invariably. No good player with King, Knave, and ten will
begin with tiie Knave; so that of course it is finessing against
yourself to put on the Queen, as the King is certainly behind yon.
If fourth player holds it yon give away at least the lead, and in any
case can secure no possible advantage.

With King, Queen, &c., of your right-hand adversary's lead, put
on one of them [the Queen unless you wish to deceive all round] ;
with Queen, Knaie, and another, the Knave; with two or more
small ones, the lowest. [Modern play enjoins the ten from Knave,
ten, and another : some add the nine from ten and another ; but
that is running it rather close : the chance of helping fourth player
is not equal to the chance of mischievously misleading him.]

With only three of a suit, put an honour on an honour, with four
play your lowest. But the Ace should always be put on the Knave.
[In Bohn's edition of Mathews, he is made to say " except the Ace
should not be put on the Blnave ; " but the context, and what he says
elsewhere, agree in showing that he said, or intended to say, here,
the Ace should be put on the Knave second hand, even if you hold
four in the suit.

If your right-hand adversary has led, and, his partner putting on
Knave or Queen, your partner wins with the King — should a
[small] card of that suit be again led on your right, if you have the
ten put it on. It is probable that by doing this you keep the com-
manding card in your partner's hand, and prevent the second best
from making.

NOTE ON THE CALL FOR TRDMPS.
In the good old days of Hoyle and Mathews unnecessarily high
cards were not unfrequently played. But they were not played to
inform partner. The old players would proljably have included
any practice of the sort among the offences contemptuously classed
in their time as "Piping at Whisk.'' What Hoyle or Mathews
would have said by the way, of the not uncommon extension of the
signalling system where a partner hesitates before playing a small
card to his partner's Ace or King lead, with the idea of either
forcing his attention to the signal, or of showing (as the case may
be) that though very strong, he is not qxitc strong enough to signal,

168

KNOW^LEDGE

[May 2, 1887.

we can hardly say. Probably, like our " I'embridge " * to-day, they
would have found ordinary words too weak to express their con-
tempt and abhorrence of all such practices. But, as I have said, in
their day unnecessarily high cards were played — (ilii'ai/.t, however,
as false cards to delude the enemy. An opponent is making his
high cards in a suit of which a player holds, say, ten and three : if
the ten is played, the > pponent naturally expects to see the suit
rutfed next round or early ; and as naturally, he will discontinue the
strong suit (unless the strategy of his game makes it desirable that
he should play for a force), and probably lead trumps. The partner
of the player, who has thus dropped an unnecessarily high card,
will infer that the trump lead is wanted ; and if the enemy fail to
be deceived by the false card, he will lead trumps himself. In that
sense, but in that sense only, thounnecessatily high card in Hoyle's
time was, as it were, a call for trumps.

All this belongs to the delightful strategy of whist. There were
in such cases several interpretations of tbe observed play to the
particular trick, several inferences suggested by the previous fall of
the cards. Neither the enemy nor the partner of the player who
had dropped the high card, having a smaller one, could feel quite
sure what the plaj' might mean. That pleasing mixture of doubt
and confidence — doubt because of the enemy's craft, confidence in
the just discrimination skill affords between the probabilities for
and against various interpretations — which constitutes the charm of
real whist comes in — or, alas ! that I should have to change the
tense, came in, of yore — to give interest to such a stroke, and to the
measures taken either to meet or foil it 1

In the whist of to-day, which is calmly described by the pro-
fessors of the signalling system as scientific whist, as if the whist
of Hoyle and Mathews (far more soundly scientific in reality) were
child's play, the unnecessarily high card does not involve any whist
interest whatever. It means one thing, and one thing only. It is a
command to partner to lead trumps.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR MAY.

^IlE stm is now so free from spots for days and even
weeks at a time as to render a daily watch for
them almost a waste of time. There is no real
night in any part of Great Britain after the 22nd,
twilight persisting from sunset to sunrise. The
aspect of the night sky will be found depicted in
map V. of "The Stars in their Seasons." No
minima of Algol will, practically, be visible through-
out the month. The best chance for the observer
to detect Jlercury will be before sunrise at the beginning of May.
Venus is an e.'euing star, sh'ning most brilliantly at dusk over the
W. by N. and W.N.W. parts of the horizon. At the end of the
month she does not set until between eleven and twelve o'clock at
night. She is gibbous in the telescope. She will be 2° 15' north
of Saturn at 5 p.m. on the 30th. Mars is totally invisible. Jupiter
is above the horizon all night long, but, having south declination,
should be observed as near to his time of meridian transit as possible.
He is travelling through Virgo towards Spica. (" The Stars in their
Seasons," map v.) The observable phenomena of his satellites
occurring at convenient hours are tolerably numerous. On the
3rd, Satellite III. will begin its transit at 9h. 30m., followed by its
shadow an hour later. The satellite will leave the planet's opposite
limb at Uh. 5m. P.M., and its shadow twenty-nine minutes after
midnight. On the 5th, Satellite II. will be occulted at 9h. 55m.
P.M. On the 6th, the transit of Satellite I. will begin at lOh. 25in
P.M., and that of its shadow at lOh. 47m. At I2h. 37m, the satellite
will pass off Jupiter's face, as will the shadow it casts at 12h. 59m.
On the 7th, Satellite I. will reappear from eclipse at lOh. 13m. lis.
P.M. On the 10th, Satellite III. will enter on to the planet's limb at
forty-seven minutes after midnight. On the 12th, Satellite II. will
be occulted at ]2h. 12m. P.M. On the 13th, Sarellite I. will begin
its transit ten minutes after midnight, as will its shadow thirty-
one minutes later. On the Ilth, Satellite I. will be occulted
at 9h. 25m. P.M. One minute later Satellite II. will pass off
Jupiter's disc, its shadow following at lOh. 34m. Satellite I.
will reappear from eclipse at 12h. 7m. Kis. P.M. On the I5th, the
egress of the same satellite from Jupiter's limb will hapjien
at 8h. 48m. P.M., its shadow following at 9h. 22m. On the 21st
the ingress of Satellite II. in transit occurs at 9h. 9m. P.M. ; then

* It was Pembridge who brought into use, if he did not actually
invent, the pleasing word " Burablepuppy," as the name for that
kind of whist which the constant follower of conventions is in the
habit of playing ; as Bumbledom has found a place in dictionaries
written since " Oliver Twist " appeared, I conceive that Bumble-
puppy ought soon to be similarly authenticated.

Satellite III. will reappear from eclipse at lOh. 28m. 55s. At
lOh. 33m. the shadow of Satellite II. will follow it on to Jupiter's
limb; at llh. 10m. Satellite I. will be occulted ; and at llh. 42ra.
Satellite II. will have left the face of the planet. On the 22nd the
ingress of the .shadow of Satellite I. happens at 9h. 5m P.M., and
the egress from the opposite limb of the t-atellite ca.sting it at
lOh. 35m. The shadow does not quit Jupiter's face until llh. 17m.
On the 28th Satellite III. will be occulted, disappearing at
9h. 21m. P.M., and not reappearing until llh. 14m. Then
Satellite II. begins its transit at llh. 26m. ; Satellite III. disappears
in eclipse at 12h. 44m. 44s., and Satellite I. is occulted at I2h. 57m.
On the 29th Satellite I. began its transit at lOh. 10m. P.M., followed
by its shadow at llh. The satellite leaves Jupiter's opposite limb
at I2h. 22m.; the shadow not imtil the next morning. Lastly, on
the night of the 30th, Satellite II. will reappear from eclipse at
lOh. f7m. I9s ; as will Satellite I. at lOh. 24m. 12s. Saturn is
now approaching the west, and must be looked for the moment the
sky is dark enough, even at the beginning of May. He is pretty
close to 8 Geminorum (" The Stars in their Seasons," map ii.).
Uranus is about south at sunset, so like Saturn must be looked
for as soon as ever the twilight deepens. He is S.W. of y Virginis
(" The Stars in their Season.?," map v.). The Moon is full at
2h. 13m. P.M. on the 7th, and enters her last quarter at
8h. 17'4m. P.M. on the 14th ; she is new at llh. 5 4m. on the 22nd;
and enters her first quarter at 5h. 19"m. A.M. on the 30th. Four
occultations only of fixed stars occur at convenient hours during
the May nights. They are as follows: — On the 4ih 7I Virginis, a
star of the 2^th magnitude, will disappear at the Moon's dark limb at
25 minutes after midnight at an angle of 141° from her vertex.
It will reappear the next morning at Ih. 8m. at her bright limb
at a vertical angle of 230°. Then, on the 29th, 45 Leonis,
a 6th magnitude star, will disappear at the dark limb at
8h. 37m. P.M., at an angle of 69° from the vertex of the Moon, its
reappearance at her bright limb happening at 9h. 34m., at an
angle of 314° from her vertex. Later, at llh. 10m. P.M., p Leonis, a
star of the 4th magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb at a
vertical angle of 88°. It will reappear at her bright limb at
2 minutes after midnight, at an angle from her vertex of 311°.
Lastly, on the 30th, tr Leonis, also of the 4th magnitude, will dis-
appear at the dark limb at 7h. 46m. P.M., at an angle of 152° from
the iMoon's vertex, its reappearance at the bright limb occurring at
8h. 6m. at a vertical angle of 188°. When these notes begin, the
Moon has just entered on the confines of Leo (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxiv.), through the whole length of which con-
stellation she is travelling until lOh. p.m. on the 3rd, at which hour
she enters Virgo (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.). Her pa.ssage
across Virgo occupies her until 6h. 30m. P M. on the 6th, and she
then crosses into Libra (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxvi.).
T avelling over Libra, she arrives at noon on the Sth on the
boundary of the narrow northern spike which runs up from Scorpio,
and when, by 9h. o'clock the same evening she has crossed this, it is
to emerge in Ophiuchus. At 11 A.M. on the 10th, she quits
Ophiuchus for Sagittarius, which she leaves in turn for Capricornus
at 8h. 30m. P.M. on the 12th (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.)
Her journey over Capricornus is completed by 4 A.M. on the 14th.
when she enters Aquarius. She continues in Aquarius until 4h. A.M.
on the 17th. She then crosses into Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxii.). She remains in this great straggling constellation
until 8h. AM. on the 20th, and then arrives on the confines of the
northerly prolongation of Cetus. By 10 o'clock the same night she
has gone through this and come out in Aries (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxiii.). She is in Aries up to 2h. 30m. A.M. on the
22nd, when she enters Taurus. Pursuing her path through Taurus,
we find her at 9h. 30m. P.M. on the 24th on the boundary of the
most northerly part of Orion. Twelve hours later she has crossed
this and emerged in Gemini (" The Seasons Pictured,'' plate xxiv.).
Her passage over Gemini terminates at 3h. A.M. on tlie 27th, when
she leaves it for Cancer. She quits Cancer in turn for Leo, at
4h. P.M. on the 28th. She is in Leo up to 5 A.M. on the 31st, and
she then crosses the boundary into Virgo. She is still in Virgo at
midnight on the 31st.

CONTKNTS OF NO. 18.

P-iGE

Tlie Complesity of Things. By

Grant Allen 121

Prize Competitions. By Eicbard

A. Proctor 122

The Juniority of Beasts. By

Oswald Dawson 123

Myths of Night and Winter. By

■ Stella Occidens ' 125

America's Giowth 126

Evolution of Language. By Ada

S. Ballin 129

Oar Puzzles 130

Mathematical Recreations 132

PAOB

Tne Southern Skies 133

The One Scale Atlas 134

The New Comets. By Richard A.

Proctor 135

The Origin of Mountains 136

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor . . 137

Reviews 130

Our Chess Column. By "Me-

phisto" 142

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs" U3

The Face of the Sky for April. By

F.E.A.S 1«

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO\VLEDGE *

169

^ILLUSTRATEinvIAGAZINE '^^

LONDON: JUNE I, 1887.

SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS.

HOUGH I do not propose here to discuss the
Baconian paradox, I touch upon it as giving
interest to certain comparisons which I am
about to make between the poems of Shakes-
peare and his plays. Even the most rabid
Baconian, I imagine, does not deny that
Shakespeare wrote " Yenus and Adonis,"
l.iurcce, the Sonnets, the "Lover's Complaint," and parts
of the "Passionate Pilgrim" (really a congeries of short
poems, some of which were admittedly his, while others
were as certainly the work of other men). Of course, the
circumstance that in " Love's Labour Lost " some of these
poems are actually introduced, would in no sort convince a
jiaradoxist that the play was not Bacon's : for it is one of
the charming characteristics of paradox that it can derive
comfort from the most contradictorj' arguments. If we find
a passage in Shakespeare which suggests Baconian thoughts,
then we are asked, "Who but Bacon could have written
that 1 " But if we find something which Bacon could not
be supposed to have written, or, as in the present case,
something which Shakespeare certainly wrote, then we are
asked to admire the ingenuity with which Bacon masked his
identity. Therefore I do not insist on the circumstance
that, unless Bacon was a thief or Shakespeare a rogue (or
preferably both), the appearance of unquestionably Shakes-
pearean sonnets in one of Shakespeare's plays suffices to
overthrow the Baconian theory. (In fact, who vmnfs to
overthrow it ? — any more than a grown man would want to
kick over the mud fortresses or the oyster grottoes of little
children.) But the evidence of the Shakespearean mind,
and especially of Shakespeare's specially dramatic power,
shown in the poems which he certainly wrote, is well worth
studying apart from any such fond fancies in regard to the
plays. Nay, I may go so far as to admit that if some
of the B.aconian paradoxists .should be led to study Shakes-
peare's poems (it is hopeless to urge them to study appre-
ciatively Bacon's " Instauratio Magna " and " Novum
Organum ") this little essay would have served a useful
purpose.

" Venus and Adonis" was probably written several years
before 1593, when it was published. Shakespeare speaks of
it as "the first heir of his invention," and it is certain that
he had written other poems than this before 1593, for
Spenser, in 1591, had praised Shakespeare's muse, "full of
high thoughts' invention." It is thought by some that
Shakespeare wrote this poem before he came to London —
somewhere about 1586 — but I imagine he had not much
opportunity for poetic composition during the few years
which he passed at Stratford after his much too early mar-
riage (to a woman eight years his senior). Some of the
softer touches of the wooing of Adonis by Venus may with-
out malice be tliought to have been memories of Ann

Hathaway 's wooing of the j'oung poet, for when a woman
of twenty-six, even the most charming, is wed too early,
yet too late, by a boy of eighteen, one may usually suppose
the woman the first to woo. And even in the coldness of
Adonis the poet may have pictured in part his own boyish
bashfulness, as where in the first sonnet of " The Passionate
Pilgiim " he says : — ■

But whether unripe years did want conceit,
Or he ref us'd to take her tigur'd proffer,
The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,
But smile and jest at every tender offer.

The love of Phcebe for Rosalind in her disguise as the
boy Ganymede suggests similar thoughts, though we must
not profanely touch the Shakespearean drama, where Shakes-
peare the man scarce ever shows, but only Shakespeare the
inspired creator of men.

The " Venus and Adonis," if marked by many faults,
and painted throughout in too warm tints, yet contains
clear evidence of the work of the Shakespeare of the plays.
Here and there occur words and phrases, such as Shakes-
peare h.as elsewhere used almost unchanged. Thus, re-
proaching Adonis: "Ah, me!" quoth Venus, " young and
so unkind " ; as Lear to Cordelia : "' So young and so
uutender." The descriptions, especially of animals, are such
as are matched only in the plays. Consider, for instance,
the description of the horse : —

Look, when a painter would surpass the life,

In limning out a well-proportion'd steed.
His art with nature's workmanship at strife.
As it the dead the living should exceed ;
So did this horse excel a common one,
la shape and courage, colour, pace, and bone.

Eound-hoof 'd, short- jointed, fetlocks shag and long.

Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostrils wide.
High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong,
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide.
Look, what a horse should have he did not lack.
Save a proud rider on so proud a back.

One may recognise the country-bred poet in the descrip-
tion of hunting sports, both of the more dangerous sort as
in the boar hunt, and in the hunting of the weak hare : —

Mark the poor wretch, to over-slioot his troubles.
How he outruns the winds, and with what care

He cranks and crosses with a tliousand doubles :
The many musets through the which he goes,
Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.

(Note here and there throughout the poem the ease and
grace of diction, the wide vocabulary, and the use of such
words as Shakespeare the dramatist is fond of using — as, foi-
instance, " He cranks and crosses," comparing with this
Hotspur's remark that this river " comes me cranking in.')

In the following passage we recognise Shakespeare's know-
ledge of animal ways (is there no paradoxist prepared to
recognise some huntsman or veterinary surgeon of Elizabeth's
time as the author of the plays t), and in " caitiff,"
" venom'd," " sovereign " (adjectively), " ill-resounding,"
" welkin," " volleys," we note the Shakespearean vocabu-
lary :—

Here kennel'd in a brake she tinds a hound,
And asks the weary caitiff for his master ;
And there another licking of his wounds

'Gainst venom'd wounds the only sovereign plaster ;
And here she meets another sadly scowling,
To whom she speaks, and he replies with howling.

When he hath ceas'd his ill-resonnding noise.

Another flap-mouth'd mourner, black and grim,
Against the welkin vollej's out his voice ;
Another and another answers him.

Clapping their proud tails to the ground below,
Shaking their scratch'd ears, bleeding as they go.

170

♦ KNOWLEDGK

[June 1, 1887

Compare with this the talk of Theseus and Hippolyta
about hunting ('-Midsummer Night's Dream," act iv.
scene 1).

The " Lucrece," like " Venus and Adonis," was dedicated
to the E.irl of Southampton ; and here the testimony of this
powerful patron of Shakespeare's may be quoted as decisive
against the fancy of the Baconian paradoxists, though it
would be of no weight with the paradoxists themselves.
The man to whom Shakespeare dedicated these poems, who
knew at once of Shakespsare's powers and of his life, who
must have suspected (if he had not known all about) the
imagined compact between Bacon and Shakespeare, by which
the ignorant piradoxist strives to blast the fame of both,
had so contemptible a compact ever existed, wrote in 1608
to another nobleman, Lord Ellesmere, the Lord Chancellor,
that William Shakespeare, his " special friend," " till of late
an actor of good account in the company " (he was writing
about the Blackfriars Theatre), " now a sharer in the same,
and writer of some of our best English plays, which, as your
lordship knoweth, were most singularly liked of (Jueen
Elizabeth, when the company was called upon to perform
before Her Majesty at court at Christmas and Shiovetide.
His most gracious Majesty King James also, since his
coming to the crown, has extended his royal favour to the
company in divers ways and at divers times." To those
who know in what respect nobility was held, and held
itself, in the beginning of the seventeenth century,
and the almost divine light which surrounded royalty in
men's imaginations (Shakespeare presents his worst king
as claiming that "divinity doth hedge a king"), the
Eai'l of Southampton's testimony will appear most strik-
ing. The very fact that to us the honour is all the
other way makes his expressions the more remark-
even from the common fault
offence of condescension. We
that the man whom, though
his friend was known to
works he attributed to him.
" Right famous is he," Southampton said of Shakespeare,
" in his qualities." Yet the Baconian paradoxist must still
believe that Shakespeare was an illiterate, uncultured
countryman, ready to be the apt tool of Bacon's scheme —
even though the paradoxist cannot tell us what imaginable
reason Bacon had for entering on so contemptible a plot, or
why, desiring to associate a likely name with his masterly
plays, he should have selected a man of whom they say that
it is utterly impossible (the extremest form of unlikelihood)
that he should have produced even the weakest of them.

The " Lucrece," more than the "Venus," shows touches
indicating sti^dy of Spenser, especially in the freer use of
alliteration. Thus, in verse 8 —

When virtue bragg'd, beauty would blush for shame ;
Wlien beauty boasted blushes, in despite
Virtue would stain that o'er with silver white.

That Shakespeare could not have admired Spenser's more
exaggerated use of alliteration, as in the fearful line, " The
sad soothsayer seeing so sad sight " (though he has in
" Lucrece " " To see sad sights moves more than hear them
told "), we may guess from his jesting use of it in " Henry
VIII." in the lines-
Born by butcher, but by bishop bred,
How high his haughty highness holds his head.

(The last must have taxed the aspirations of the Londoners
if they were as bad in his time as now), and again in the
prologue to the " very tragical mirth " of the play presented
by Bottom, Quince, Flute, Snout, and Starveling —

Whereat with blade, with bloody, blameful blade,
He bravely broached his boiling, bloody breast.

able — free as they ai-e
of titled patronage, the
may be well assured
but a plebeian, he esteemed
him as the true author of the

In "Lucrece" the dramatic power of the poet shows
itself as well as the descriptive. The soliloquies of Tarquin
(there are four), in the longer of which he is Shakespeareanly
presented, not as a weaker poet would have shown him,
striving to justify the evil he proposes, but urging all reasons
which should move him to desist, his words to Lucrece, her
appeals to him and his final answer (which closely resembles
the threat of Proteus to Sylvia in the " Two Gentlemen of
Verona "), all these, though the poet has expanded them
more than in a play would have been just, are strictly
dramatic in character ; and they are such passages as only
the creator of Cthello and Cymbeline could have produced.
Passing over several dramatic passages, we find still more
strikingly Shakespearean in dramatic power the closing
scene where Lucrece tells her husband and father of the
wrong done her. Only a Lucrece pictured by a Shakespeare
could speak and plead as Lucrece here. The silence of Col-
latinus is in itself Shakespearean —

Which speechless woe of his poor she attendeth,
And his untimely frenzy thus awaketh :
Dear lord, thy sorrow to my sorrow lendeth
Another power ; no flood by raining slaketh.
My woe too sensible thy passion maketh,
More feeling * painful ; let it then suffice
To drown one woe, one pair of weeping eyes.
And for my sake —when I might charm thee so —
For she that was thy Lucrece — now attend me.

(These two last lines are singularly beautiful, and very fine
is the sudden change of tone in what follows) : —

Be suddenly revenged on my foe,

Thine, mine, his own. Suppose thou dost defend me

From wliat is past : the help that thou shalt lend me

Comes all too la'e, yet let the traitor die ;

For sparing justice feeds iniquity.

Her appeal to the lords standing round to give their
promise that the wretch as yet unnamed shall die, her
anxious question whether she may acquit herself of blame,
is followed at once (when- —

they all at once began to say
Her body's stain her mind untainted clears)

by Tarquin's name, and the death-stroke, with the dying
words (like ^Eneas' tamed Pallas t« hoc vulnere, Pallas
imniolat) : " He, he, fair lords, 'tis he, that guides this hand
to give this wound to me." All this is such as only the
Shakespeare of the plays could have produced.

I find I have left no room to touch upon the sonnets as
manifesting authorship by the same hand which wrought
the plays. I leave them then to another occasion, only
noting here further the use in " Lucrece," as in " Venus and
Adonis," of words and phrases such as Shakespeare uses in
his di'amatic works. The "bloody, blameful blade" used
jestingly in the " Midsummer Night's Dream " may be
compared with the " cursed crimeful night " of Lucrece —
even the quaint turn of expression being matched in — •

She sheathed in her harmless breast
A harmful knife, that thence her soul unsheath'd.

Such strange words as " sneap'd," "rigol," "key-cold,"
and such expressions as "a barebon'd death," a "com-
fortable star " (like the " comfortable hour " of Richard III.),
attest the common authorship of the plays and poems. But
it is in such passages as the description of Lucrece sleeping,
and her impassioned outcry against Opportunity, that the
oneness of the Shakespeare of the plays and the Shakespeare
of the poems is most clearly seen. The former should be
compared with lachimo's description of Imogen as he creeps
from his trunk and robs her of the bracelet wliich is to be

* " Feeling " is here used adverbially for feelingly.

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOVS^LEDGE ♦

171

the folse token of dishonour, and the latter with Falcon-
bridge's abuse of Commodity.

In particular the latter comparison should be carefully
made Ijy all who feel tempted to cut the Gordiau knot of the
Shakespeare marvel by supposing that it was another than
Shakespeare who wrote the plays. " Thou ceaseless lackey
to eternity, thou foul abettor, thou notorious bawd, thou
ravisher, thou traitor, thou false thief," says Lucrece, in her
anguish ; but at the last she sorrowfully says, •■ In vain I
rail at opportunity." In like manner, Falconbridgc, in his
bitter disgust at the mad composition made by the kings,
speaks of " This Commodity, the bias of the world, that
daily break-vow, that bawd, that broker, that all-changing
word" — then at the last asks, angrily, "Why rail I on
this Commodity 1 " If two men wi-ote these tiradas, then
we may well believe that the " Inferno " and the " Paradise "
came from diverse hands.

SCIENCE AND RELIGION.

K the June, 1886, number of Knowledge appeared
an article called " Science and Polities," in which
we touched on the absurd idea that men of
.science, as such, are less qualified to form just
opinions on political questions than farmers,
tradesmen, manufacturers, brewers, or bankers,
whether in their simple condition as such or
after the process of election to our great parleying house.
We pointed out that while the man of science is altogether
out of his element, and indeed is acting altogether out of
character, when he expresses opinions about political ques-
tions which he has not studied, he is not more out of his
element in so doing than the farmer, banker, or merchant
who does likewise, even though the farmer, banker, or
merchant may have intensified such original ignorance of
political matters by many years' practice in parliamentary
procedure. And we showed further that the training of the
student of science of these times, while it tends, on the one
hand, to make him carefully avoid any expression of opinions
about matters which he has not studied (caution which the
average merchant, farmer, brewer, or banker does not in-
vai-iably display), tends also, on the other hand, to make
him examine carefully, and even anxiousl}-, into the hidden
cau.ses of things, where persons not so trained are content to
note sequence only, inferring causation unhesitatingly where
there may not be even any connection whatever. The real
difference between students of science and others in this
matter, and that which has led to the mist;iken idea that
they think less about political and social problems than
others, lies in the circumstance that they less frequently
express opinions on such matters. The rest of the com-
munity, without thinking more — nay, probably thinking
less — are seldom troubled bj- any doubts as to the justice of
their views, and so speak openly and freely. People are
accustomed to hear them thus speak at public gatherings,
while the more thoughtful, or those who are more fully con-
scious of the difficulties of the problems dealt with, remain
silent. But this should not lead to the conclusion that the
loudest-voiced are the wisest or the best informed, or there-
fore the fittest to express an opinion (even though such
opinion may be merely negative). On the contrary, it has
been a misfortune to our own country, and is recognised as
a still deeper trouble among our kinsfolk in America, that
the people who undertake most confidently to deal with
political matters, and who are least cautious in considering
doubts and ditficulties, are those least fitted for the task of
guiding or controlhng political events. Insomuch that while

in England the term '• politician " has become one of doubt-
ful respectability, in America it is not a doubtful term at
all, but expresses an unpleasant cross between charlatan
and rogue.

A similar mistake afl'ects the ideas most men form as to
the fitness of the student of science to express ojjinions about
religion. The mistake may, indeed, be not quite so obvious.
For it depends on a notion very commonly entertained, and
encouraged by the cla.ss to which it relates, that there is a
certain set of men expressly trained for religious study, and
especially fit, because of certain imagined, qualities, to form
just opinions on religious matters.

Let us at the outset not* that we are not here considering
what has been called — absurdly enough — the conflict between
religion and science. There is no such conflict, and there
never has been. " The real contest," as Fiske well remarks
(in an essay on Draper's overvalued work on the imagined
conflict), "is between one phase cf science and another;
between the more crude knowledge of yesterday and the less
crude knowledge of to-day. The contest, indeed," as he
proceeds to say, " is simply, as presented in history, the
measure of the ditficulty which men find in exchanging old
views for new ones. All along, the practical question has
been whether we should passively acquiesce in the crude
generalisations of our ancestors or venture to revise them.
But as for the religious sentiment, the perennial struggle
in which it has been engaged has not been with scientific
inquiry, but with the selfish propensities whose tendency is
to make men lead the lives of brutes. Viewed in this light,
religion is not only something that mankind is never likely
to get rid of, but it is incomparably the most noble as well as
the most useful attribute of humauitj'."

It is not, however, with this imagined conflict of science
w-ith religion, but w-ith the fitness of the student of science
to form and formulate opinions about religion, that we are
here concerned. Xor are we opposing the truism sagely
enunciated by George Eliot, among others, that the man of
science is no worthier of a hearing than his fellows when
he .speaks of that which he has not specially studied.
Cela va sans dire. The mistake to which we direct our
argument is the commonly-adopted notion that men of
science, as such, have not as good opportunities as other
men, and are less disposed than most men, to examine and
inquire into religious questions.

Men who are neither scientific nor cleiical (to include in'
this word the priests and ministers of all orders in all
religions) are for the most part content to take their re-
ligious ideas from the ministers of that particular religious
body in which they happen to find themselves. To such
men it naturally appears a mistake, and indeed an emphatic
nuisance, for men not clerical in the wide sense just indicated,
to form or express any opinions at all about religious
matters. For, such expressions of opinion disturb their
calm content in ideas about which the}' have never cai'ed
to think, or rather in the belief that there are religious ideas
which other men have thought about, and which proliably
they themselves would accept as matters of opinion if they
could spare time to think them out. Those who think they
believe are as numerous as those who believe they think.
The two classes, which include the great majority of men,
overlap largely, though of course there are many who do
not even believe they think, nay rather accept the doctrine
that most men vujltt to believe (whatever doctrine lies
nearest to them) without thinking at all. And this is
perhaps as well, seeing that otherwise a somewhat dan-
gerously large number of folk might be troubled with the
thought that either the doctrine accepted by them (as lying
nearest at hand) maybe unsound, or else the other doctrines
must be unsound which are accepted in like thoughtless

172

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1887.

way by the immense majority of their fellows. Besides the
men who think and thosa who believe, besides those who
think they believe and those who believe they think, the
world must for the present have many who think they
ought to believe, absurd though the idea of duty in connec-
tion with belief most assuredly is.

Under these curiously mixed and unsatisfactory conditions,
the unthinking are content to believe that there is a set of
men specially trained and sjjecially fitted to examine the
doctrines which happen to be those they themselves un-
thinkingly accept. So that if a student of science, accus-
tomed to weigh and examine causes, and to speak with
confidence only when (which is seldom) he has been satisfied
with evidence, should express an opinion about matters
seemingly touching such doctrines, the unthinking many
console themselves by cheerfully concluding that he is out
of his depth, resting content in the belief that only the
members of that particular set of trained clerics can form
just opinions about such matters.

In reality, however, the case is otherwise, with regard to
nearly all the doctrines about which our Spencers, Huxlej's,
Fiskes, and others have spoken, or which the researches of
science have appeared to touch. In the Roman Catholic
Chui'ch, indeed, as among Buddhists, Mohammedans, and
Jews, there are classes specially trained in theological study
or even for dogmatic disputation. But the matters about
which these trained men are alone competent to speak with
authority are questions of ritual or doctrine lying within
their own special church, and of little interest to outsiders.
A Huxley or a Spencer may find himself at a loss, for ex-
ample, in discussing with a Eoman Catholic theologian such
a question as the treatment of Galileo by Roman Catholic
ecclesiastics — not because of any misapprehension of the
subject really at issue, but from want of knowledge of the
details of ecclesiastical procedure in such matters. But
even within the strict limits of Catholicity, Buddhism,
Mohammedanism, and .ludaism, the really important problems
of religion remain untouched in the systems of training
adopted for ministers of various orders. Nay, those systems
tend to narrow and limit the powers of the trained ministers,
by directing their attention solely to points within a certain
circle deemed sacred, and leaving them no scope for survey
outside of it.

In the vai-ious nonconforming bodies which lie outside
Catholicity, there is not any recognised system of training,
of any value, which should fit men specially for religious
discussion, and no training whatever which can enable them
to deal with the higher and nobler problems of religion.

Take, for example, what is called the Established Church
of England. This church, though singularly broad, yet has
its definite limits of belief, within which a man may, if he
will, call himself " a member of the Church of England as
by law established," while outside those limits he must be
regarded as a dissenter. Now, theoretically, the Articles of
the Church define these limits, and every minister of the
English Church should be thoroughly versed, not only in all
that these Articles define, but in regard to the limits within
which each Article must b3 understood. If all clergymen of
the Established Church were so trained and taught, that
would not mean much, nor would it in the slightest degree
touch on the wider question we are considering. It would
only imply that there was a certain set of men who could
speak with authority as to the doctrines which a member of
the Church of England may or may not accept : as to the
wider questions relating to religion itself, regarded as '• the
most noble and most useful attribute of humanity," such
training, even if it were systematically adopted, would be
valueless.

But no such system even as this has been adopted.

Though all our clerics are not trained at our universities, we
have in these universities the chief and probably the best
types of training for the ministry. What does such training
amount to ? The crowds which fill our churches probably
imagine that the surpliced teachers to whom they listen have
been specially selected from among those having a special
calling to such work, and have then undergone special train-
ing— some such training as a lawyer, or a doctor, or a mer-
chant, or an artist, or even a man of science, requires for
successful work in the business of his life. But the actual
case is very diflerent.

As to calling : — It is well known that ninety-nine out of
a hundred of the young men who go up to our universities
(or to separate colleges) to be trained — save the mark ! — for
the ministry, have no calling that way at all. They form a
section, taken as it were at haphazard, from our British
youth. If there is any selection at all, it is such as arises
from the thought in a father's mind that a son seems un-
likely to succeed in law or medicine or business : or it may
be that there is promise, through some family circumstances,
of a good opening in the clerical way ; or other such reasons
operate. But this is not the kind of selection thought of
when we speak of calling.

Then as to training : — Noting first that the material if
equal is certainly not superior to the average, either in
ability, or in what should be rather important in this special
profession, in earnestness and strictness of character, the
system applied to that material is not such as to fit it
specially for the study of the higher and nobler problems of
religious philosophy. Even in what may be called Anglican
theolog3% most of the clerics sent out from our universities
are ill trained. We do not say it is at all necessary that most
of them should be well trained, seeing that their work in
country places — the " holy vegetable " life, as Sydney Smith
put it — requires no special training in the details of
Anglican theology. But, for the argument we are here con-
sidering, viz., that clerics and clerics only should speak
about religious matters, this particular shortcoming in
the training of the average English clergyman must cer-
tainly- be taken into account. Be it noticed that we are
finding no fixult with the system. Taking several hundred
young men, most of them of only average brain power, and
of perhaps less than average earnestness of purpose, but on
the whole very fairly representing the intellect and character
of their race, what can our ecclesiastical system do with
them t Too high a standard would keep the majority of
them out altogether, and then what would our country
towns and villages do for clergymen? This would be dis-
establishment of the most unsatisfactory sort. Better to
let them through with a little Latin and less Greek (not
one out of ten can read the Epistle to the Romans in the
Latin Vulgate, and not one out of a hundred can read that
epistle understandingly in the Greek), a very small quantum
of mathematics (the connection of which with religion is
too obvious to need insisting on), and, finally, that very
slight smattering of theological matter which the " volun-
tary "(so called because involuntary) requires to be "got
up " in a week's reading — apparently so that it may be
forgotten six weeks after ordination.

We would not be understood as speaking slightingly
either of the average attainments or of the average character
of the clergy of the Church of England. If our univer.si-
ties were chiefly used for the education of lawyers, doctors,
or merchants, the results in all probability would be much
the same. Among a hundred lads in a school, there will be
one or two who are clever, nine or ten above the average,
forty or fifty below it, and the rest dufiers. There will be
a few of fine character, many neither good nor bad, and a
few of very poor character indeed — to put the matter

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGK ♦

173

mildly. In a college it is the .same ; in fact, most of the young
men in our colleges were lads in our schools a few years
before. Thus there are a few capital classical scholars and
first-rate mathematicians iu our colleges, while there are
numbers who are above the average in ability and educa-
tion ; but there are many times as many more who are
below ; and some are unutterably stupid. For the sake of
these last, the Church ministry has to be made very easy
of enti-ance ; how easy only those know who have either
gone through or have at least paid all such educational toll
as the through passage requires. We who write learned
much more theology in a year at King's College, London, at
the ripe age of eighteen, than many of our fellow-Cantabs,
now in the Church, learned during their University career.
Many were unable, and not a few were unwilling, to learn
more than just took them through, perhaps after much
preliminary plucking. Yet not a particle of the small
allowance of theological training necessary to admit bearer
to the pulpit, scarcely a particle of the course of theological
study which the better intellects pursued, had any bearing
whatever on the wider or nobler problems of religion.

As to earnestness of character and purpose, English
clerics present the same variety as English college youths,
or as lads at English schools. But college life is not calcu-
lated to make men more earnest than they would have been
without it. The future surpliced teacher in our country
pulpits and parsonages is generally a good sort of fellow
while at college. He probably plays a good game at cricket
or tennis, or he rows well and staunchly, or he may be good
both with the oar and the bat. He plays generally a fair
hand at whist, and he usually likes good wine and good
cheer. We like him none the worse for these innocent
tastes and qualities : but tbey are not such as to assure us
that he is exceptionally earnest in religious matters, or that
he will be much better able than the student of science to
solve perplexing problems of religion or philosophy.* For.
be it remembered, the man of science usually has had a
special calling, he possesses usually special ability, and he ,
has usually had a special training for discussing questions
whose relation to the higher philo.sophy of religion is some-
what nearer than the relation of whist or cricket, or even
Greek and Latin syntax, to theological and doctrinal
problems.

If the English Church, which being established may be
supposed careful in such matters, has no class of trained
teachers, though individual members of her priesthood may
have studied her specific doctrines with special care, we may
be sure that no body of Nonconformists is better provided
with profound thinkers who are specially able, because
of true calling, marked abilities, and long-continued study,
to speak with authority, even about doctrinal matters.
Individual preachers may in this sense be competent
teachers, but the greater number cannot be. Assuredly
whether they might be or could be, they are not, as their

* A friend of the writer's, whom we will call S., called a year or
two after taking his degree on a college friend, whom we will call
H., a parson in a dull but devout village. They were talkiilg over
the pleasant days of yore at dear old " John's," when two old ladies
called to inquire how grace might best be obtained. " Don't go,
S.," said H,, who devoted for awhile his apparently most earnest
attention to the old ladies' trouble. At last, sat prata biherant, the
visitors departed, full of praise for the "excellent young man,''
whose carefully parted hair and mark-of-the-beast waistcoat had
probably impressed them fully as much, had they but known it, as
the weli-worn platitudes he had addressed to them. 'With a sigh of
relief, as he closed the door after them, the excellent young man,
who really was a good fellow, though not over-earnest, turned to his
friend, saying, " Thank goodness, those two old cats are gone 1
Come, S., my lad, let's have some beer." Our friend H. typilies a
class — and, by the way, those two old ladies typify another. And
both classes are very much larger than many imagine.

preaching shows. And even did each religious sect provide
a class of teachers duly qualified ami thoroughly trained,
the wider and nobler questions of religion — which are not
the dreary problems of theology, church history, or ritual,
but far higher and far worthier of study — would not lie
brought within the scope of such teachers.

We should not care to define what qualities or what
training would best fit a man for the discussion of the
nobler problems of religion or philosophy. We believe that
the best and purest, the most earnest and thoughtful, the
man of keenest intellect and most fervent imagination, is
not fit to penetrate within the temple wherein the Divine
Mystery is enshrined. But among all men, though all men
be unfit, none can nearer attain fitness to approach the
temple than those who contemplate the Mysteries of Infinite
Time and Infinite Space, of Infinite Might and Infinite
Life, all ruled by Infinite and Etern.al Law. They alone
]ierceive what marvels of knowable truth lie within the
infinite domain of the Unknowable.

IS

m

y

THE STORY OF CREATION.

a plain account of evolution,
By Edward Clodd.

PART II.

CnVPTER TI— FACTS IN SUrPORT OF DERIV.VTION OF
SPECIES.

HE evidence supplied by living things in
support of their common descent is fivefold :
viz., 1, in their beginnings and develop-
ment ; :2, in their structural likene.sses ;
3, in their typical divisions ; 4, in their
succession in time : 5, in their distribution
in space.

I. Emb)->/ologi/. — The eggs or germs from which all
living things spring are simple cells, made of the same
sticky stuff called protoplasm, and are, to outward seeming,
exactly alike. And this likeness persists through the
earlier stages of all the higher animals, even after the form
of the living thing is traceable in the embryo. In proof
of this Darwin quotes the following from Yon Baer, the
discoverer of this remarkable Hict : —

" In my possession are two little embryos in spirit,
whose names I have omitted to attach, and at present I am
quite unable to s.ay to what class they belong. They may
be lizards or small birds, or very young mammalia, so com-
plete is the similarity in the mode of form.ation of the head
and trunk in these animals. The extremities, however, are
still absent in these embryos. But even if they had existed in
the earliest stage of their development we should learn
nothing, for the feet of lizards and mammals, the wings and
feet of birds, no less than the hands and feet of man,
all arise from the same fundamental form."* In further
evidence of this inter-relation of living things, their
embryos epitomise, as it were, during development, the
series of changes through which the ancestral forms passed
in their ascent from the simple to the complex ; the higher
structures passing through the same stages as the lower
structures up to the point when they are marked off irom
them, yet never becoming the form which they repre-
sent for the time being. For example, the embryo
of man has at the outset gill-like slits on each side
of the neck like a fish ; these give place to a membrane
like that which supersedes gills in the development of

* " Origin of Species," p. 388.

174

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1887.

birds and reptiles; the heart is at first a simple pulsating
chamber like that of worms ; the back-bone is prolonged
into a movable tail ; the great toe is extended, or opposable,
like our thumbs and like the toes of apes ; the body three
months before birth is covered all over with hair, except on
the palms and soles, like the soles of four-footed animals.
At birth the head is relatively larger and the arms rela-
tively longer than in the adult ; the nose is bridgeless ; both
features, with others which need not be detailed, being dis-
tinctly ape-like. Thus does the egg from which man springs,
a structui-e only T^i-th of an inch in size, set before us
the history of bis development from fish-Uke and reptilian
forms, compressing into a few weeks the results of millions
of years. That which is individual or peculiar to his race,
the physical and mental character inherited, is left to the
slower development which follows birth.

The gills in his embryo, as also in that of other mammals,
are one among many structures, more or less rudimentai-y,
which witness to the unity of origin of every living thing.
Certain organs appear in the fcetus which are useless to the
adult, as teeth in whales, remnants of hind limbs in certain
snakes, wings under the wing cases of insects that do not
fly, rudiments of pointed ears in man, abortive stamens in
plants, as the snapdragon, and so forth. Except as evidence
of the modification of life-forms in which they occur from
other life-forms, and of persistency of type, they are mean-
ingless ; the functions they once discharged have long ceased,
being exercised only in other and allied living things where
they are found fully developed.

II. Morpholoijy. — Large gi-oups of species, whose habits
are widely different, present certain fundamental likenesses
of structure. The arms of men and apes, the fore-legs of
quadrupeds, the paddles of whales, the wings of birds, the
breast-fins of fishes, are constructed on the same pattern,
but altered to their several functions. Xearly all mammals,
from the long-necked giraffe to the short-necked whale,
have seven neck-bones ; all insects and Crustacea — moth and
lobster, beetle and cray-fish — are alike composed of twenty
segments ; the sepals, petals, stamens, and pistils of a flower
are all modified leaves arranged in a spire. Such facts need
no comment.

III. Classification. — It has been already shown that all
animals may be reduced to three types : the first, or lowest
and simplest, without body cavity ; the second, or inter-
mediate, with bod}- cavity : the third, ranging from the
earth-worm to man, with digestive cavity separate from
body cavity. The general likenesses of structure upon
which a classification of living things is based have been
detailed in the chapters on existing life forms,* and here
the reminder sufiices that the old attempts at a linear
arrangement have failed, and that the only true mode of
presentment, both of the life that is and that was, is that
of a tree with short trunk, indicating common origin of the
living from the non-living, and divided into two large
trunks representing plants and animals respectively. From
each of these start large branches representing classes, the
larger branches giving off smaller branches representing
families, and so on with smaller and smaller branches
representing orders and genera, until we come to leaves as
representing species, the height of the branch from which
they are hanging indicating their place in the growth of the
great life-tree.

IV. Succission. — All extinct forms have their time-range,
all living forms have their space-range, and, if the theory
of descent has any truth in it, their ancestors must be sought
in the past. Broken as is the record, the great mass of it
beyond reach, and the little that is witliin reach only

* \1de Knowledge, June to October, 1886.

thoroughly examined here and there, the accord of the facts
of geological distribution with the facts summarised above
is nevertheless complete. Each formation has its peculiar
groups of fossil remains representing the life-forms of the
period ; the older the rock, the simpler are its organic
remains, and, what is of no mean importance, although
transitional forms are from their nature fewer and less per-
manent than forms which have arrived at balance with their
surroundings, the fossil-yielding rocks have disclosed the
existence of several hitherto missing links between species.
Reference to some of these has been made in the summary
of past life-forms, e.g., to the proofs of descent of the one-
toed horse of to-day, with his knee corresponding to our
wrist or ankle, from the five-toed primitive horse found in
the Eocene beds of North America, and to the connecting
link between birds and reptiles supplied by the Arch,-?opteryx.
To this may be added the t'ompsognathus, with its swan-like
neck, its toothed jaws, and hind limbs, on which it walked.
Then there are the links between pigs and ruminants in
the Anoplotherium ; between tapirs, horses, and rhinoceroses
in the Pala>otherium ; and in the Devonian strata forms
occur which are considered intermediate between ganoids and
mud fishes. Thus one by one the blanks are being filled
up ; the faith of the biologist is justified by his works.

V. Distribution. — Every living thing has its definite
area of range : the sloth is peculiar to America, the
hippopotamus to Africa, the chamois to the Alps ; Arctic
plants wither under the equator ; those of the tropics
perish in cold or even temperate zones, while a vast number
flourish only in the original birthplace of all life — water.
Among animals a few, notably man and the cat genus, have
spread themselves well nigh everywhere ; but, as a rule, cer-
tain species are restricted to certain regions, and hence the
biological division of the land into regions corresponding to
that distribution, and of the water into life regions measured
by the limits of depth at which marine forms are found.
Speaking broadly, the plants and animals of countries in
unbroken connection resemble one another, while those of
countries remote or cut off are unlike. But these general
principles bristle with exceptions. In countries where the
climate and general conditions correspond, as the equatorial
regions of both the Old and New World, as ahso on
the same continents, there are marked differences in the
life-forms, probably owing to impassable barriers of mountain
ranges, deserts, or oceans, while in countries with different
climates, as in tropical Florida and frozen Canada, allied
types are sometimes found. Puzzling and capricious as the
distribution of life may seem — e.g., tapii'S are found only
in South America and Mrdacca, with its neighbouring
islands, being thus separated by nearly half the globe's
circumference — in this, as in aught else in nature, nothing
is accidental. Distribution is due to the migration and
transport of living things, which, under the agency of
natm-al selection, become more or less adapted to new con-
ditions, and much light comes therefrom, not only on the
theory of the origin of species, but also upon p:ist changes
in the relations of land and water. Where allied forms
which are unable to cross the seas are found in lands now
separated, as in Britain and Japan, in Southern Europe and
North Africa, we have evidence of former union ; the degree
in which species have been modified giving some key to the
remoteness of that union.

In the study of the very complex problem of distribution,
isl.ands afford important aid. They are of two kinds, con-
tinental and oceanic. The continental have been broken
off from the mainland, as the British Isles, Japan, the far
more ancient Madagascar with its lemxirs, and New Zealand
with its wingless birds and remarkable one-eyed lizard.
The oceanic, as the Azores and Sandwich Islands, are of

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

-10

volcanic or coralline formation, and depend for tbeir life-
forms upon their relative position to the mainland, and also
to the winds and oceiin-currents that prevail. Exclusive of
animals introduced by man, tiiey are found destitute of frogs
and other batrachiaiis ; also of mammals, bats excepted ; the
explanation being that sea water kills frogs and toads and
their spawn, and that only flying animals can cross the
ocean. For this reason bats, at least the insect-eating
species, are found everywhere, except at the Poles ; and the
range of birds, although defined, is much wider than that of
all the larger and wingless land-animals.

Isolated islands like St. Helena are peopled with waifs
and strays from all (juarters, while in continental islands
like our own the life-forms are, for the most part, identical
with those of the nearest mainland. But here, again,
exceptions exist. The islands of Bali and Lombok in the
Malay Archipelago, although only fifteen mUes apart, differ
far more from each other in their birds and quadrupeds
than do England and Japan, the birds being extremely
unlike* As shown by the deep soundings, Bali belongs to
the Indian region, and Lombok to that zone of " living
fossils," the Australian region. Australia contains only the
lowest mammals, as duckbills and kangaroos — for there is
little doubt that the dingo was introduced by man — wit-
nessing to its severance from Asia millions of years ago
during the Secondary epoch. It is an ancient and little
altered fragment, jireserving the types of plants and animals
which were then dominant on the great shifting land areas,
and fi-om which the higher forms have been developed.

Oceanic islands, with their population of birds, flying in-
sects, and a few creeping things, are the refuge spots of casta-
ways. Strange are the ways and means of disper.sal. Winds
waft and currents di-ift to distant shores icebergs laden with
earth and seeds, or masses of floating vegetation, sometimes so
matted with soil as to form island-rafts with trees upstand-
ing, and carrying with them not only number.s of grubs, and
eggs of insects, but even large animals. Birds are impor-
tant agents in plant distribution, transporting seeds em-
bedded in dirt sticking to their feet or beaks, or the barbed
seeds of certain plants, like the curious Uncinia, which
cling to their feathers, or the undigested seeds and stones
of fruits which are passed through their bodies. A swift-
wdnged bird may drop cherry-stones a thousand miles from
the tree they grow on ; a hawk, in tearing a pigeon, may
scatter from its crop the still fresh rice it had swallowed at
a distance of ten degrees of latitude. Among the many siig-
gestive experiments which Darwin made in this matter, he
cites the case of the leg of a wounded partridge to which a
ball of bard earth weighing six and a half ounces adhered.
The earth had been kept for three years, but when broken,
w-atered, and placed under a bell-glass, no less than eighty-
two separate plants of about five distinct species spi-ang
from it.

Very important, also, although more remote in its ultimate
results, is the agency of man, especi.-i.lly of civilised races,
in the distribution of life. Both with and without intent
he distributes and destroys, as his needs or caprices demand.
Clearing forest, di'aining lake and bog, reclaiming land from
sea, or uniting ocean with ocean, he disturbs, or mingles, or
kills their life-forms. He imports strange plants and
noxious insects in his merchandise ; he transports the heal-
ing cinchona plant from Peru to India, the salmon ova
from our native streams to the rivers of Australia, and
to him is due the re-introduction of the horse into America,
which had been extinct there long before the arrival of
Columbus. " The hortus siccus of a botanist may accidentally
sow seed from the foot of the Himalayas on the plains that

* Wallace's " Island Life," p. 4.

skirt the Alps ; and it is a fact of very familiar observation
that exotics, transplanted to foreign climates suited to their
growth, often escape from the flower-garden and naturalise
themselves among the spontaneous vegetation of the
pastures. When the cases containing the arti.stic treasures
of Thorwaldsen were opened in the court of the museum
at Copenhagen where they are deposited, the straw and
grass employed in packing them were scattered upon the
ground, and the next .season there sprang up from the seeds
no less than twenty-five species of plants belonging to the
Roman Campagna, some of which were preserved and
cultivated as a new tribute to the memory of the great
Scandin.avinn sculptor, and at least four are said to have
.sjiontaneously naturalised them.selves about Copenhagen."*

While needless destruction has too often followed in the
wake of man, as he humours the cruel freaks of fashion, or
kills out of sheer wantonness, his enterprise has, on the
other hand, ridden the soil of harmful weeds and baneful
animals ; developed food from wild or useless plants ;
luscious fruits from sour and dwarfed species ; and domestic
animals, the dog proliably earliest of all, from the fierce
beasts of the forest and the plain.

Enough has been said to show that no pre-ordained
scheme of fitness for their several habitats hfts placed plants
and animals where they are found. So far as most of the
liigher life-forms are concerned, our best authorities, with
Mr. Wallace at their head, incline to the theory of their first
appearance in the Euro-Asiatic continent, the wave of
migration rolling over the Old World far south by routes
long submei-ged, and by a northeily land route into the New
World. And, since few birds and insects are capable of
crossing the great oceans, it seems likely that they took the
same course, in confirmation of which we find that those
birds which migrate between Europe and Africa travel by
w.ay of Greece, Malta, and Gibraltar, the three points at
which those continents wore once united.

THE OIL STORES OF AMERICA.

•[MOlSrtr the most pleasant and interesting
features of lecture travelling must be set
the opportunities offered for studying
various characteristic regions of the earth.
During my own lecture travels in England,
Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, in nearly
ever}' State and Territory of America, in
('anada, Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand,
and so forth, I have had many opportunities of this kind.
For in most regions where anything of special interest is to
be seen, I have found many I'eady, n.ay eager, to show and
explain what is chiefly to be noted.

I propose now to make some remarks about the oil
regions and the oil industry of Western Pennsylvania and
South-western New York, a subject to which my attention
has naturally been turned during that part of a short lecture
tour £ am taking which brought me to Fredonia, N.Y.,
Meadville, Pa., &c. Of course, I only propose to consider
the subject in its scientific aspect, though I may have to
remark on the singularly wasteful way in which nature's
earth stores have in this case been drained, till what took
many millions of years to accumulate has been probaljly
more than three-fourths consumed in fewer than thirty
years.

The first question naturally asked in regard to these oil
supplies is, How came they there ? Of course, to answer

* Marsh's " Man and Nature," p. 07.

17G

KNOWLEDGE

[June 1, 1887.

this question fully and in detail would be a very difficult
task, and is at present certainly impossible. But, speaking
generally, it may be said that the choice lies between two
theories, in greater or less vogue among geologists ; while,
so strongly does all the evidence bear on the side of one of
these, that it is very difficult to understand how any doubt
can remain as to its essential validit}'.

Let it be premised that the oil occurs chiefly in what are
called pools, though they are not in the slightest degree like
pools — certain sands found at a greater or less depth beneath
the siu'face, and permeated with oil in such degree that in some
cases a cubic foot of oil is obtained from every ten or twelve
cubic feet of sand. Intermixed with the oil is a gas which
also is found collected in many places above the oil pools, in
a highly compressed state. This gas is variously constituted
in different wells. It always contains a large proportion of
marsh gas — the gas which rises from the ground above
places where animal or vegetable matter is undergoing pro-
cesses of decomposition. It also contains hydrogen, carbonic
acid gas (or what chemists now call carbon dioxide), ethyl
hydride, and several hydrocarbons. The petroleum itself
has been formed from the condensation of a portion of this
compound gas. The proportions of the several gases vary in
different wells. Thus, while marsh gas amounts in some
wells to nearly 90 per cent. (S9'C.3 is the highest amount
yet deduced fiom analysis, I believe), gas from the Cherry-
Tree well shows only GO-27 per cent, of marsh gas. Hydro-
gen ranges from 6-G to 13'5 per cent, in other wells, but in
gas from Cherry-Tree well amounts to 22 5 per cent. In

like manner carbonic acid

which has a range of from

-j'i,';,th to TVi'otti per cent, in gas from other wells, runs
up in the Cherry-Tree gas to 2'28. Again, while there is
no trace either of oxygen or nitrogen in the gas from most
of the oil districts, we find in the gas from the Cherry-Tree
well /injth per cent, of oxygen and 7'32 per cent, of
nitrogen. Of ethyl hydride, which may be regarded as the
chief component of all the petroleum gases outside the
marsh gas and the permanent gases, we find the percentage
ranging between 4'39 and IS'39 in other wells, and amount-
ing to trSO in the Cherry-Tree gas. 1 have been somewhat
particular in noticing the exceptional nature of the gas from
the Cherry-Tree well, because it illustrates strikingly the
eflect which local peculiarities may have in modifying the
chemical constitution of the gas found in the oil districts.
The Cherry-Tree gas i-eaches the surface through water ; we
can under.^tand well, then, that it should contain a relatively
larger proportion of hj-drogen, oxygen, mtrogen, and car-
bonic acid gas ( with which the water is largely charged).

It is woi'thy of notice, however, that the structure of the
sands in which the oil is chiefly found by no means affects
in similar degree, or even in any appreciable degree at all,
the character and chemical constitution of the oil. This is
the first, and perhaps most striking, piece of evidence show-
ing that the oil was not originally formed where it is now
found. For convenience I present the evidence on this
point, in company with other evidence about the oil regions
which is full of interest, though not bearing directly on the
question of the origin of petroleum.

The sand from which the oil in the ^\.llegany (not Alle-
gheny) and Bradford districts is obtained consists of a grey-
black, dark-brown, or chocolate-brown coloured sand, singu-
larly uniform in texture, of about the coarseness of the
ordinary black sand of the New Jersey coast. The oil
obtained is dark amber-green in colour, and occasionally
black. The specific gravity is about half that of water, that
is about 50. The Bradford oil region has an extent of about
133 square miles, and up to Januai-y 1, 188-">, had produced
820,000 barrels per square mile, or 109,000,000 barrels in
all. The Allegany region has an area of 31 square miles,

and to the same date had produced 15,000,000 barrels of
oil, or 419,000 per square mile. Now the sand of the cele-
brated Venango district consists of white, grey, and yellow
pebble rock — the pebbles being obviously water worn, and
as large as hazel-nuts, loosely cemented and bedded in fine
sand, which is by no means so regular as that of the Alle-
gany and Bi-adford regions. Hence there are dry tracts
(holes they are called, being no more holes than the rich
tracts of oil sands are pools) where the oil has not gathered.
The oO in the Venango district is generally green, but fre-
quently black, and sometimes amber. Its specific gravity
ranges from 30 to 51, but may be regarded as averaging
about 48. This district has an area of 65 square miles. The
total [)roduce to the beginning of 1885 amounted to
55,000,000 barrels, or 84G,t(00 barrels to the square mile.
The Butler district has an area of eighty-four square miles.
The sands resemble those in the Venango region, and the
oils obtained are similar in colour and specific gravity. To
January 1, 1885, the supply of oil from this region amounted
to 69,000,000 barrels, or to 821,000 barrels per square mile.
From the Beaver district, sixteen square miles in extent,
1,000,000 barrels had been obtained by the beginning of
1885, corresponding to 62,0(10 barrels per square mile. In
this region the sand rocks correspond with those called the
Pottsville conglomerate and the Berea grit in the sub-
carboniferous series. The oils obtained from the Butler
district are mostly amber-coloured. In the Warren region,
thirty-five square miles in extent, the sands vary greatly
in character. The total jiroduce to January 1885 was
12,000,000, or 343,000 barrels per square mile.

When we notice in the Venango drillings coarse sand and
pebble, and pieces of jHilverised rock showing no traces of
petroleum, we cannot but feel how unlikely it is that such
a rock could ever have contained enough organic matter to
yield a cubic foot of oil to every ten or twelve cubic feet of
rock. Again, it is obvious that in such a rock substance
organic matter would decompose and waste. The organic
matter could not have found its way into those pebbly sands
while they were exposed to atmospheric influences, for in
that case the oil would have been volatilised and dissip.ated.
Nor could it have been accumulated when these sands were
in contact with the water ; for then the oil, being of much
lighter specific gravity, would have risen to the surface and
floated away as flist as it was formed. The oil must, then,
have been introduced into these sands long after they formed
part of any shores, or were near to the surface of the earth's
crust, whether that surface above these sands were under
water or not.

But perhaps the strongest argument against the theory
that the oil was formed in situ resides in the very special
way in which the oil is distributed in layers at difl'erent
depths, but under the same place. Of cour.se, if each sandy
tract originally supplied its own organic material, animal
and vegetable, from whence, long after, oil was formed (the
region sinking to depths where the heat and temperature
were sufficient to decompose the organic material and
generate from it vast quantities of gas), we could not expect
any connection to be shown between the distribution of the
oil in one sand pool and the distribution in another lying
below it (at so great a depth as to indicate \evy long time-
intervals between the formation of the respective sands).
But a singular connection is actually recognised, the
meaning of which seems unmistakable. Wherever a tract
of oil sand overlies a lower rich oil sand the upper
sand is always poor. But if portions of a lower oil
sand are rich and other portions poor, then the upper
oil sand is rich where the lower is poor, and poor where
the lower is i-ich. Again, where an upper sand tract
extends farther than a lower one, the part overling the

June 1, 1887.]i

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

177

lower will be poor, while the part extending beyond the
lower will alone be rich. Still more marked and significant
are the peculiarities recognised when there are three sand
tracts at diflerent depths, for in such cases, while the second
is found to be richest where it extends beyond the lowest,
and the uppermost richer where it extends beyond the
second, the uppermost is richest of all where it extends
beyond both the next lower and the lowermost of all. This
corresponds exactl}' with what might be expected if the gas
rising from organic matter, decomposing under the influence
of high temperature, were absoi'bed by the overling sand
tracts, wherever the conditions were suitable, the absorption
in any given sand tract, of course, diminishing the amount
which could give rise to a sand tract above. The signi-
ficance of this peculiarity can hardly then be misunder-
stood ; we may safely conclude that it has been by this
process of distillation, and not in situ, that the oils have
been formed in the great oil-sand regions of Pennsylvania
and New York.

It would seem as though the oil had been formed from
the condensation of gas rising from the carbonaceous shale
lying at greater or less depths below the sands where the oil
is found. Such carbonaceous gas would be generated in
immense quantities from materials brought into the region
of the Appalachian range from various soui'ces and at
various times. Large quantities of organic matter were
stored in the limestones and shales of the enormously thick
beds of the silurian formation, augmented afterwards by the
contents of rich carbonaceous deposits during the Lower
Devonian age. From these masses of organic matter, sub-
mitted at times to high temperatures, and always at immense
pressures, deep as they lay below the region of the oil-
collecting sands, immense quantities of carbonaceous gas
would rise, to be condensed in some regions into oils, but
elsewhere to remain as gas at very high pressure, and ready
to burst forth with amazing energy whenever an outlet
should be found or forced for it. [It is to be observed that
for the formation of the oil pools the carbonaceous shales
and the sandstone rocks are both in equal degree necessary,
the former to produce the oil-gas, the latter to retain it on
its way towards the surface, where, unless thus captured, it
would escape.]

It can hardly be doubted, I fear, that the supply both of
oil and gas has now been so largely drawn upon that within
less than a score of years scarcely any will be left which can
be brought at reasonable cost into the market. The
boundaries and extent of the oil regions have been deter-
mined. All the sands in which oil will ever be foimd in
such quantities as to be worth working are known, and
have been drilled through in various places. It is saxrcely
possible that any new fields will be discovered which will be
comparable either in extent or productiveness with those
now known. So far back as Januar}' 1883, Professor Lesley
pointed out that no petroleum is now being produced in the
Devonian rocks, either by the process akin to distillation,
described above, or otherwise. What has been stored up in
the past, a process whicli probably lasted for millions of
years, may be got out. But when these reservoirs are ex-
hausted there will be an end of the petroleum supply.
"The discovery of a few more pools of two or three millions
of barrels each can make little difference." Mr. Carll,
whose opinion on the geology of the oil-bearing districts
may be regarded as decisive, has come to a similar con-
clusion. " There are not at present," he pointed out quite re-
cently, " any reasonable grounds for expecting the discovery
of new fields which will add to the declining products of
the old, so as to enable the output to keep pace with the
shipments or consumption."

The stored petroleum in this region has then been very

nearly exhausted. In less than a generation, a small part
of the population of this continent alone has used up nearly
all the valuable stores of energy which had been accumu-
lated during millions of years of the geologic past.

More recent inquiries confirm the conclusions of Professor
Lesley and Mr. Carll. The signs of exhaustion in the oil-
producing regions can now be clearly recognised. During
the last four years there has been a steady diminution in
the output, accompanied by an increase in the price per
barrel, which nevertheless does not even maintain the
nominal annual value of the supply. Mr. Wrigley an-
nounced in 1882 that 154,000,000 barrels of oil had already
been raised up to the beginning of that year, and expressed
the opinion that not more than 96,000,000 barrels remained
to be raised. In this last estimate he was undoubtedly mis-
taken, for up to the beginning of 1885 no fewer than
261,000,000 barrels had been raised, and in the year 1885
as many as 21,04:2,041 barrels (nearly 3,000,000 fewer than
in 1884) were obtained. But although the estimate in
1882 of the quantity of oil still remaining fell far short of
the truth, and though we may admit as possible that even
now much more oil remains to be put out than the most
experienced geologists suppose, the signs of approaching
exhaustion are yearly becoming more unmistakable. The
expense of bringing the oil to the surface grows greater
year by year, and threatens soon to become so great that
the profit of working the oil stores will be evanescent. So
soon as that state of things is approached, we may be sure
that the oilmen's occupation in Pennsylvania and Western
New York will be gone. It has been stated that the
Japanese, unwilling to let the le;ist fraction of the earth's
interior stores be lost, have been known to excavate a
vertical shaft to a depth of 600 feet in order to raise a few
gallons of oil per day. But in America when the oil mines
are so near exhaustion as this, they will be abandoned ; nay,
they will be abandoned long before they approach such a
condition. With the failure of the oil supply, all the col-
lateral branches of industry associated with it will fail too.

CLOTHES-MOTHS AND THEIR ALLIES.

By E. A. Butler.

N a former paper we gave an account of one of
the commonest of our clothes-moths. Tinea
pellionella ; it now remains to consider the
other members of the same genus to which a
similar epithet is applicable. And first as to
T. biselliella. This is a little ci-eature, some-
thing like pelliondla, but usually rather larger
and with shining ochreous fore-wings, which are perfectly
devoid of spots ; the hind-wings are paler, and the head
reddish. Its caterpillar feeds upon various animal substances,
such as hair, feathers, wool, itc, and so may occasionally be
found in the linings of sofas and chairs, and in mattresses.
It is an abundant in.sect, and its habits are similar to those
of the before mentioned species, but there is this difference,
that the present insect does not, when a caterpillar, weave
for itself a coat in which to go on its travels. At the com-
mencement of its larval life it is said to feed without any
covering by way of protection ; but after a while it finds the
necessity of preserving its delicate body from the attacks of
its somewhat ill-tempered and aggressive companions, if from
nothing else, and therefore constructs a kind of tubular
tunnel in which to take shelter. This, however, is fixed to
some support, and is thus a shed rather than a garment.
It is in this run, too, that the change to the chrysalis takes
place ; but then the ends are closed up, and the dormant

178

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1887.

insect is thus secured from molestation during the period of
its seclusion.

Even at this stage of its life it is a lively little being, any
disturbance of its retreat being resented by petulant
wrigglings of its brown, mummy-like form. When the
time for its final change arrives, it shifts itself along to the
entrance of the cocoon by means of tiny hooks on its back,
and then works its way out of its pupa case, which it leaves
projecting from the end of the cocoon. The larva; may be
found in our houses from February to September inclusive,
and the moths from April to November.

The next species is T. tapctzella (fig. 1). This is con-
siderably larger than the two preceding, and very different

FXG. 1.

-Tinea Tapbtzella.

from them in colouration, though sufficiently similar in shape
to show that it should be referred to the same genus. When
the wings are fully spread, the moth has an expanse of | inch,
and it may very easily be recognised by the startling
contrast in the distribution of its colours. The fore-wings
are black over their basal third part, and then over the rest
of their area creamy white, slightly mottled with darker,
especially at the tip. The hind-wings are shining brownish-
grey and have long fringes. When the wings are closed,
they are laid close alongside the body, and then, of course,
no trace of the hind pair is seen. We have simply a long
narrow object with the front part black and the hinder
white.

This insect, in its larval condition, delights in coarser food
than its predecessors, and devours with avidity such fare as
carpets, horse-cloths, &c. The thickness and more sub-
stantial character of this food affords the grubs protection
also, and renders the construction of a separate case un-
necessary— as they burrow into the cloth, it is thick enough
to conceal them, and they, therefore, only care to line their
burrows with silk. In these tunnels they can reside and
feed quite secure from observation. This insect is sometimes
called the " tapestry moth," from 'the fact of its depredations
occurring chiefly in such materials; the linings of carriages,
too, are sometimes destroyed by it. The caterpillar may be
found in April and May, and the moth in June and July.
From its habits one may easily gather that it is less
frequently met with in the house than in outbuildings, such
as stables, coach-houses, ifcc. The writer once found quite a
family of them in a piece of carpet that was used as a
bandage round a young sapling in a garden, to prevent the
cord by which it was tied up from injuring the bark.

Lastly, there is T. rusticella. This is less strictly a clothes-
moth than the others ; it seems to be in no way particular
as to the exact character of its diet, provided it be of an
animal nature and sufficiently dry, and in consequence it has
been found in the most unlikely places. For instance, Mr.
C. G. Barrett one winter collected a number of old nests
belonging to chaffinches and other birds of that sort, nests
that are largely composed of wool and hair, and on keeping
them till the summer he obtained from them large numbers
of Tinese, the larvae of which had been feeding on the
matei-ials of which the nests were composed, and amongst
these were some specimens of the above insect. Again, it
was found by Mr. C. Eales in a more unsavoury locality
still. He one day came across the dried-up corpse of a cat,
and observing that it contained larvse and pupje of some
moths, he kept it till the perfect insects appeared. Many of

these turned out to be T. rusticella. In its natural state,
therefore, this insect is clearly a devourer of animal refuse —
in fact, one of nature's most useful scavengers ; and if we
introduce animal matters, though of far less objectionable
character than these, into our houses, we need not be sur-
prised that sometimes the scavenger follows them, intent
upon the fulfilment of its natural function.

The caterpillar is, as usual, a whitish creature with a
brown head. The moth, which is about the size of T. hisel-
liella, is dark greyish-brown on its fore-wings, slightly tinged
with purplish, and minutely speckled with yellowish dots ; it
has also a pale transparent spot on the disc of the wing
before the middle, and another similar but smaller one at
the outermost lower angle of the wing.

Various methods have been suggested for getting rid of
these pests ; this, however, is hardly the place for discussing
the merits of rival insecticides. But there is one ingenious
method which, if not very practicable, is yet so interesting
that it must receive a passing notice. It is well known that
silkworms are a prey to a ceitain disease called " muscardine,"
which arises from the growth of a parasitic fungus. The
idea occurred to Balbiani that if the larv« of clothes-moths
could be inoculated with this disease, the result would be
similar to what it was amongst the silkworms — their numbers
would be speedily and rapidly diminished, and a benefit
would thus be conferred upon mankind. He accordingly
reduced the remains of some " muscardined " silkworms to
a powder, and laid his trap by sprinkling this bait over
clothes infested with the destructive larva;. The grubs ate
of the fatal meal, developed the disease, and miserably
perished. The powder, however, was found to lose its
efficacy to some extent if kept for any length of time.

These are all the insects that can fairly be called " clothes-
moths " ; but there are several other small moths that occur
in our houses, and, being general feeders, are destructive in
other ways, though they are generally credited with designs
upon our woollen fabrics. Some of these belong to the .same
extensive genus as the clothes-moths proper — e.g., Tinea
fernor/inella (very similar to rusticella, but smaller), fusci-
puncfella (also somewhat similar, but without the trans-
parent spot), misella (yellowish brown, with paler markings
and two dark dots), and niyrijnmctella (yellowish, with
several blackish spots). Some of these occur not unfre-
quently, but others are rare.

But there are two insects which greatly exceed in numbers
both these and most other household species, and are often
more abundant and universally distributed than the clothes-
moths themselves. They are Endrosis fenestrdla and
QSarphora pseudo-spretella, both repi-esentatives of a new
and very extensive family of Tinese, the Gelechidce. A
glance is sufficient to show this ; for first, in rest, the
wings lie flat along the back instead of by the sides, as in
the Tineidce ; secondly, a hand-lens shows that the head,
instead of being crowned with the erect, hairlike plumes of
a Tineid, is covered, at any rate in front, with broad, flat-
lying scales, which suggest the idea of their having been
brushed over the forehead like the " fringe " of a modern
English female ; and thirdly, there is a pair of enormously
large curved palpi, much longer than those of the Tineida,
pointing upwards from beneath the head like a pair of
miniature bull's horns.

The former of these insects (fig. 2) is literally ubiquitous.
From appearing usually on windows, it has received the name
Jenesti-ella, or " window moth ; " but it has also been called
lacteella, or " milk moth," in consequence of being so fre-
quently found drowned in the contents of milkjugs. The
water-jugs and basins in our bedrooms also often testify to
similar fatalities. It is really a very pretty little creature,
and if only it were rare would be highly prized on account

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LEE)GE ♦

179

of its beauty, but being so abundant, and a " moth " to boot,
its fail" exterior goes for nothing, and it is onlj- considered a
nuisance. It has brownish fore- wings, speckled with darker,
but its head and thorax are of a pure snow white. This
description is quite sufficient to enable it to be recognised,
for there is no other little moth like it. It is a larger insect
than most of the preceding, and the wings, when fully
spread, stretch about two-thirds of an inch. Its white head,
which is an exquisite object for a low power of the micro-
scope, renders it easily seen, and in consequence it has often
to pay the penalty of death for crimes it has never com-
mitted. The finger of the careful housekeeper often comes

Fir„ 2.— EjfDROsis Fbnestrblla.

down upon it with vengeance, treating it as a devourer of
woollen goods, when the real culprits — such insignificant
creatui'es as T. j>elUoneUa and biselliella — by theii- smaller
.size and oliscure appearance, escape notice. It is, in fact,
not a clothes-eater ; its larva feeds upon all sorts of waste
substances, especially those of a vegetable nature, and thus,
no doubt, often clears up for us a good deal of rubbish out
of odd corners. It may be found all the year round, and
probably there is scarcely a house anywhere of which it is
not an inhabitant.

Though the presence of the window-moth in our houses
may be condoned, the .same cannot be said of its near ally,
the detestable pest, CEcopJwra jjseudo-spretdla. This is one
of the most destructive insects imaginable, and is apparently
a perfectly general feeder ; nothing that is in the smallest
degree edible comes amiss to it. It is rather larger than
Endrosis fenestrella, of a pale brown colour, more or less
completely mottled over with dark brown, and with three
very deep brown spots, two before the middle of the wing,
placed one above the other, like a colon, and one beyond the
middle. The distinctness of these spots depends upon the
intensity of the ground colour of the wings, which varies a
good deal. The hind-wings are paler without markings,
and as usual have long fringes. When in good condition,
which is not likely to be the case, except just after emer-
gence from the pupa, the fore-wings are shiny. They are
placed in a flat position over the back, and thus cause the
insect to appear larger than a Tinea of the same size would.
The moth is fond of concealment, and often hides amongst
the substances that have suffered from its depredations.
When disturbed, it runs rather than dies, and that very
rapidly, at once seeking shelter again. To pursue it with
one's fingers is no easy task ; it is so rapid in its move-
ments and so slippery when touched, in consequence of the
glossiness of its scales, that the pursuit is apt to try both
patience and temper of pursuer.

The caterpillar is a whitish creature with a brown head,
of an active habit, but concealing itself most eflectually by
spinning together quantities of the material it happens to be
feeding upon. It does not take the trouble to bite ofi^ neat
pieces of this material and weave them carefully and deftly
together, as the clothes-moths would do, but seizes hold of
anything near, whatever its size, and attaches it, as it is, by
one of its ends, so that the pile seems Httle more than an
accidental heap. lender this it can feed at its ease. But a
keen^eye will soon detect traces of its presence, in the shape
of pellets of excrement thrust out from the end of its tunnel.
It is particulai'ly fond of invading an entomologist's stores

of insects, and if he be by any means careless enough to
grant it a footing he will find immense damage done before
he suspects anything, and also find that his little foes are
very difficult of eradication. The ravages in sucli cases are
really very cleverly concealed : e.g., the unfortunate collector,
noticing one of his larger moths, say, with its wings droop-
ing apparently a little more than usual, essays to remove
the specimen with a view to discovering the cause, when he
finds that, as he pulls out the pin on which it is impaled, he
removes no more than a mere shell of the body, and leaves
the wings attached to the bottom of the box; pseudo-
sprctella has been at work, and has cleverly fastened down
the wings of the moth, but in such a way as hardly to dis-
turb their position, and then, using them as a roof, has
proceeded to scoop out the contents of the body, being still
CiU'eful to leave the skin entire, so that until the tug at the
pin reveals to the chagrined entomologist the utter destruc-
tion of his specimen, it looks almost as perfect as ever.

From this habit of concealment, practised by both larvre
and perfect insects, it often happens that vast damage is
done before the presence of the destroyer is suspected, and
in any case the damage is sui'e to he great, so much more
being spoilt by being woven into the roof of the shed than
is really destroyed by being eaten. Mr. C. S. Gregson speaks
of tons of rice in a warehouse having been destroyed by this
insect. Each caterpillar had spun together six or eight
rice-grains, and they thus made numbers of little bundles of
rice, which they used both as shelters and as food. The
same observer speaks of having been informed that some
small caterpillars were doing great damage amongst the
stores of sweeping-brooms belonging to one of the local
government boards in Liverpool. On receiving specimens
of the damaged articles, he found that they were ling besoms
(brooms made of heather or ling), and that the destroyer
was none other than pseudo-spretella, which, notwith-
standing that all it had had to live upon was dr\- heather
brooms, was nevertheless more fat and flourishing than
usual.

The larva of this insect is a winter feeder, and may be
found in the early months of the year, the moth appearing
in July and August.

A very near- relative of these two insects, called (Ecogenia
Kindennanniella, is sometimes found in houses, especially
near London. It is smaller than either of its allies, and is
a very pretty insect, having the narrow fore-wings dark
purplish-brown, with thi-ee broad pale yellow patches.

American En-glisii. — A Boston man tells how few in
England understand American-English. " I had not been
in Liverpool an hour," he says, " when I became convinced
that I had much to learn about the English language.
When I entered my hotel I asked the young woman who
received me, ' What are your terms 1 ' and had I spoken
Choctaw she could not have understood me less. ' What do
you charge a day ? ' I next ventured. ' Charge ? ' she
replied, vaguely, and I gave it up. Another woman was
summoned, and I tried again. ' Ah I you want the tariff?'
she said at last, and sure enough I did. Now, if I had
used the word 'tariff' in that sense in Boston, it would
have been considered slang. [It is clear the mistake lay not
in the ^rords used, but in the thing signified ; the Boston
man misunderstood our hotel ways.] I tried in vain
to get a pair of suspenders, as they would show me none
but those for stockings, but succeeded finally in buying some
' braces.' I might prolong the list ad iiijinitum, but enough
is shown to w.irrant the publicfition of an American- English
dictionary of synonyms for the use of travellers."

180

♦ KNO\A^LEDGE

[June 1, 1887.

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP VIII.— Foe MAY, JUNE, AND JULY.

The Night Skies in the Southern Hemisphere (Lat. 46' to 24° S.)

AND THE

Southern Skies in England (Upper Half op Map only) at the following Times:

At 1 o'clock, morning, June 7.
„ 12.30 „ „ June 14.

„ Midnight, June 22.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, June 30.

At 11 o'clock, night, July 7.
„ 10.30 „ „ July 14.

„ 10 „ „ July 26.

„ 9.S0 „ „ Aug. 3.

At 9 o'clock, night, Aug. 7.

„ 8.30 ,. „ Aug. 14.

„ 8 „ „ Aug. 22.

„ 7.30 „ „ Aug. 29.

First

Second . .

Star Magnitudes.
Third . . . . *

Fourth .

. +

Fifth

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

181

Map \r.

by Ricli^A.Pro ctor

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nndi by fu-'hiit tht ed^e.

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*¥-ay to the, uitja,at\d, byYjt V*- cii. the-

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

WE give another map of this series, reserving an account of the method in
which the sphere has been divided, and each map projected, till our
space is less crowded.

182

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1887.

THE WILD WINDS.

By " Stella Occidens."

RIMM quaintly remarks in the chapter on
elements in his " Teutonic Mythology "
that it was quite natural to look upon
" some female personages as prime movers
of the whirlwind." Professor Fiske, how-
ever, tells us that in Norse mythology " it
is the Devil who is proverbially active in a
gale of wind." *
The first statement appears to be universally believed in
Germany — at least it would seem so from the numerous
legends and nursery tales in which " female personages "
plriy an important part. In Vogtland, Northern Franconia,
Thuringia, and across Lower Saxony, Frau Holda or Hulda,
who may be regarded as a wind goddess, holds supreme
sway. She drives about in a waggon, and flies through the
air at will. She haunts lakes and fountains at noon, and
at times she may be seen, a fair white lady, bathing in the
sparkling water, and then disappearing under the waves,
like the nymph Melusina.f Holda likewise belongs to
Wuotan's " furious host," and, like Wuotan, can ride on the
winds, clothed in terror, and accompanied by witches.
Thus in Ujiper Hesse and the Westerwald, Holle-riding — to
ride with Holle — is the same as a witch's ride.

At other times Holda is represented as an ugly old hag,
with pointed chin, big teeth, a long nose, and bristling,
thick-matted hair.J When she visits the pasture ground
of the herdsmen she is seen dressed in a blue garment and
white veil. She loves music and song under this appear-
ance, and her lay has a doleful melody called Huldreslad.
In the forests you see Holda, as an old woman, clothed in
grey, marching at the head of her flock, milk-pail in hand.
It is supposed that she carries off people's unbaptised
children, and, according to a widespread belief, these little
heathens, fell victinjs to Wuotan, or Holda, have thenceforth
joined the " wiitende Heer," or " furious host." It was also
believed that Holda led an army of mice, for these were
regai'ded as sacred animals, and were supposed to represent
the souls of the little children. §

Holda also appeai-s as queen of the mountain sprites, who
are known as fluldrefolk. In Iceland they are called Hul-
dumenn.ll Holda resembles Freya, sister of one of the most
celebrated gods of mythology, and wife of Odin or Wuotan.
Like Holda, Freya loved music, spring, and flowers ; she was
queen of the elves and water-naiads, and could fly through
the air at will in a waggon drawn by two cats.^ She also,
like Hulda, is mistress of the Valkyries in general, and
adopts the babes that die unchristened into their host.
Freya's dwelling is named Folkvangar, which means the
plains on which the (dead 1) folk troop together. The cat

* [Our fair contributor, by combining tliese remarks, seems to
suggest an inference not wholly complimentary to her sex. — Ed.]

f When Melusina leaves the castle of Lusignan, after her
mermaid character is detected, she becomes a banshee. It is a
common superstition among sailors that the appearance of a
mermaid with her comb and looking-glass betokens shipwreck with
the loss of all on board. The well-known story of Undine some-
what resembles that of the fairy Melusina. — J. Fiske, " Myth and
Mythmakers," p. 96.

J Grimm's " Teutonic Mythology," chap. xx. p. 2Cfl : " When
a man's hair sticks up in tangled disorder the peasants say, " He's
had a jaunt with Holle." The description of Holda as an old hag
recalls our nursery tale of the old witch " who went upon a broomstick
ever so high, to sweep the cobwebs out of the sky " — generally
represented as a hag with pointed nose and chin, and long teeth.

§ Fiske, " Myths and Mythmakers," p. 33. This recalls the story
of the Piper of Hamlin and the fearful fate of Bishop Hatto.

II Grimm, "Teutonic Mythology," p. 271.

i Bullfinch, " Age of Fable," p. 412.

was sacred to her, as the wolf was to Wuotan and Holda,
and that is why this creature is supposed to be the favourite
of old h.ags and witches. In some ]iarts of Germany they
say, if a bride goes to a wedding in fine weather, " she has
fed the cat well " — meaning that she has not oflended the
goddess of love.*

In Upper Germany, in Swabia, Alsace, Switzerland, and
Austria, Perchtha, a being similar to Holda, or the same
under another name, Ls recognised. Sometimes she is
represented as bright and glorious, and at other times her
name is used to frighten naughty children. In olden days
she bad her dwelling-place between Berche and Wilhelms-
dorf, in the valley of the Saale. Possibly from this arises
the fact that she is sometimes called Berchta. She is queen
of the " Heimchen," or little unbaptised children, whom she
steals away from their homes. At her command she
makes them woi-k, and she has a great waggon in which she
keeps them. Naturally the people in Saale were very
indignant with her for going ofi" with their little children,
and on this account she had to leave that part of the country.
She bade a ferryman await her at midnight on the
banks of the river Saale. When he arrived there he
saw, according to the legend, " a tall, stately dame sur-
rounded by weeping children, and demanding to be fenied
over." She stepped into the craft, and, when she arrived at
the other side, she made the feriyman return for the
children, who were loudly weeping and lamenting. He did
so much against his will.

Another time it is related that a spinning-girl, who was
walking home from Neidenberg late one night, met Perchtha
marching up the hill followed by a troop of Heimchen folk,
who were pushing a heavy plough and waggon in front of
them, whilst the rest helped to carry tools. They were all
loudly complaining because they were so tired, and had no
home in which they could rest. The spinning-girl, who was
in good spirits, having completed a hard day's work, and
knowing that a comfortable home awaited her, laughed
aloud at their misery. Perchtha angrily approached her,
and blew upon her, making her blind at a breath. The
unfortunate girl could scarcely find her way home, and,
being unable to see her work, she soon became poor and
wretched, and had to beg for a living. A year later, as she
was passing over this same mountain on the eve of Twelfth
Night, she heard some one approaching her, and begged for
an alms. It was Perchtha, who said, " This time last year
I blew out a pair of lights, this year I blow them in again."
She then blew in the girl's eyes, whose sight was restored.f

In the Middle Ages, Perchtha was represented as a white
lady in snow-white garments, and she appears at night in
princely houses and rocks the baby's cradle whilst the nurse
sleeps. At other times Perchtha, like Holda, is represented
as an old hag, and is called " Dame Precht mit der eisernen
Nase," or " w'ith the iron nose." J

But Perchtha and Holda were sometimes replaced at the
witches' nightly expeditions by Herodias, regarded erroneously
as the daughter of Herod, who on account of her thought-
lessness, rather than malignity, had caused the beheading of
John the Baptist. It is said that when the head was
brought to her on a charger, she would have covered it with
tears and kisses, but it drew back, and began to blow
roughly at her. The hapless maid was whirled into empty
space, and there she hung henceforth for ever. Only from
midnight till first cockcrow she sits on oaks and hazel-trees ;
the rest of her time she floats through the air.§

In the " Sachsenspiegel " there are woodcuts and plates

* Grimm, p. 304.

t Grimm, " Teutonic Mythology," p. 277.

j Ibid., p. 280. § Ibid., p. 285.

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE

183

which represent the winds, half-symbolieally, as faces or
heads blowing — probably a fancy of very early date. For
instance, in the " Iliad," when Achilles offers libations at
the funeral pyre of Patroclus, the winds, at the command
of Iris, raise the flames. The gentle Zephyr and the wild
Boreas made the wild tumultuous winds blow and fanned
the flames ; but when the morn dawned the whistling winds
returned to their eaves.

The Valkyries, or swan-maidens, travelled through air
and water, and belonged to Wuotan's " furious host." They
were warlike virgins, mounted upon horses, and armed with
helmets and spears. They guided the souls of the dying on
the battle-field to Valhalla, the home of Odin, where he
dwells with all the Aesir or gods.* He was desii-ous to
collect a great many heroes in Valhalla, to be able to meet
the giants on a day when the final contest must come. He
sent the Valkyries down to every battle-field to make choice
of those who shall be slain, and hence their name, which
means " choosers of the slain." When they ride forth on
their eixand their armour sheds a strange flickering light,
which flashes over the Northern skies, making what men
call the " Aurora Borealis," or " Xorthem Lights." t

In the Edda a legend exists about seven-and-twenty
Valkyries riding through the air. " When their horses shake
themselves, the dew drops from their manes in the deep
valleys." In " Balder Dead," Matthew Arnold refers to the
Valk}Ties as follows : —

And the A'alkvries on their steeds went forth
Toward earth and tights of men : and at their side
Skulda, the youngest of the Sornies, rode ;
And over Bifrost, where is Heimdall's watch.
Past Slidgard Fortress, down to earth they came ;
There through some battle-field, where men fall fast,
Their liorses fetlock -deep in blood, they ride,
And pick the bravest warriors out for death,
^Tiom they bring back with them at night to heaven.
To glad the gods, and feast in Odin's hall.J

Odin or Wuotan answered to the Greek Zeus, the Alfadir
or father of all. His wife is Freya, and she is the northern
Thor or Baldr, according to Cox.§ Valhalla is the great
hall in which Odin feasts with the heroes who have fallen in
battle. These heroes amuse themselves by fighting when
they are not feasting. When seated on his throne Odin
overlooks all heaven and earth. Two ravens, Hugin and
Munin, rest upon his shoulders, and two lions, Geri and
Freki, crouch at his feet. Odin's furious host is the storm-
wind howling through the air, and supposed to be the souls
of slain warriors on their way to Valhalla. Wuotan takes
special delight in the rushing of his wind-host over moun-
tains and valleys in a great gale, leading on the Pitris.
These live in the sky with Zama, and sometimes shine as
bright stars. In the Ai-yan traditions the storm-wind is a
host of Pitris, or one great Pitri, who appears as a fearful
giant, and in other traditions Wuotan's furious host is a
pack of wolves or wish-hounds, or a single savage dog or
wolf '!

Wuotan has dominion over both air and water, walking
on the waves and commanding the gale. In olden times
they tell of Wuotan's wanderings with his waggon drawn
by two wolves.

A resemblance can be traced between Hermes and
Wuotan. The howling-dog or wish-hound of Hermes,
whose appearance is a portent of death, and is merely

* Cox, " Manual of Mythology," p. 281.

t Bullfinch, " Age of Fable," p. 409. Gray's ode, " The Fatal
Sisters," is founded on this superstition.

* Bullfinch, "Age of Fable," p. 410.

§ Cox, " Manual of Mythology," p 280.
II Fiske, '■ Myths and Mythmakers," p. 77.

the tempest personified. At night, Odin, like Hermes, was
supposed to rush over treetops, accompanied by a host of
dead men's spirits.*

Odin was himself also represented as a dog, and the
howling wind was a great dog or wolf. " As the fearful
beast was heard speeding by the windows and over the
housetops, the inmates trembled, for none knew but his own
soul might be required of him." In Odenwald it is believed
that the passing of the Wild Huntsman is a sign of the
approach of war. He is supposed to issue with his train
from the ruined castle of Rodenstein, and pass through the
air to the castle of Schnellerts.f

The German poet Biirger wrote a poem about Fal-
kenberg, a keeper of a royal forest, who hunted on the
Sabbath. During the chase he was joined by two huntsmen ;
one tried to persuade him to desist, the other led him on.
At last, from amid the stormy clouds, a voice of thunder
was heard saying :

Be chased for ever through the wood,

For ever roam the affrighted wild. J

Helplessly the WOdgrave was whirled through the air, and
this dreadful chase, according to the legend, goes on still,
and will last for ever. Behind him follow the hounds and
hoi-ses. When the peasants hear these sounds in the passing
storm they devoutly cross themselves. Our Heme, the
Hunter of Windsor Forest, referred to in the " Merry
Wives of Windsor," act iv. scene 5, resembles the above.

There is an old tale goes that Heme the Hunter,
Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest,
Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight.
Walk round an oak with great ragg'd horns.
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle.§

In the story of the Erl-king, the father tells his child
that the siren's voice is but the rustling of the wind among
the dry leaves ; and the Xiebelung king whom the child
sees is but the mist rising over the plain.

Max Miiller suggests that our nursery tale of Robin
Hood is only a disguise of the Xorthem god Wuotan. ]|

NOTES ON AMERICANISMS.

By Eichaed A. Proctor.

Fix it, in the elegant phrase " nohow j-ou can fix it,"
the use of the verb to " fix," already considered (Kxow-
LEDGE for March, p. 114), is seen at its best. Sam Slick
first introduced the phrase, 1 think. But it can hardly be
considered a distinct Americanism, as by Bartlett. For,
granted the verb " to fix " in the wrong American sense, we
must accept any possible use of the word, grammatical or
otherwise, as part of the usage.

Fixings. In this word, however, we have a distinct
Americanism. We have already considered the expression
" chicken fixings " as distinguished from " common doings."
On the general use of the word " fixings," or, as it is more
commonly pronounced, " fixins," we have what is precisely
akin to the use of the word " doings." There are many
other examples, as in the words " going " and " coming," used

* This recalls Erckmann-Chatrian's story of the wild huntsman,
Vittiakab, and how he sped through the forest, carrying away a
young girl's soul.

f It is said that the sotmd of his phantom horses and hounds
was heard by the Duke of Baden before the commencement of the
last war in Germany.

} Fiske, " Myths and Mythmakers," p. 32.

§ Sir Walter Scott, " The WUd Huntsman," LLs 170-1.

II Max Miiller, "Chips from a German Workshop," vol. ii.,
p. :i5a.

184

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1887.

as nouns, " their goings out and comings in," such goings
(on), and so forth.

Fizzle. This word, used for a failure, is more commonly
heard in America, perhaps, than in England ; but it is only
in this sense an Americanism.

Fizzle, To. To fail. This usage is also English, though
the vulgarism is not so common with us as in America.

Flat out. To. To diminish in value— a Western phrase
suggested by the diminished productiveness of metallic layers
as they grow thinner.

Flatfooted. The significance of this word in America
is very different from that of the French word plat-pud,
identical though the words may be in their primary mean-
ing. A French jilat-pied is a mean, contemptible fellow ;
but an American " flatfoot " is a man who stands firmly for
his party (and in America there is no higher praise than
this). When General Grant said he had put his foot down,
and meant to advance on that line if it took him all the
summer, he conveyed, mixed though his metaphorical
manner was, the American meaning of the expression " flat-
footed." Another mixed way of u.^ing this flat-foot simile
is found in the statement respecting a certain American
demagogue that he had " a flat-footed way of saying things
which impressed his neighbours, and was a rod in pickle for
them."

Floor. To " hold the floor " is used in America as
equivalent to our English parliamentary phrase " to be in
possession of the House." Probably the expression had its
origin in the Irish usage, " to hould the flure," applied to
the longest lasting pah- of dancers.

Flume. A slant passage or channel for a stream of water
to turn a mill, or for gold-washing, or the like. More
familiarly used in America than in England, though
thoroughly English.

Flummux, To. This elegant expression, which in England
means to use up, overwhelm, and generally obliterate (I think
we have the elder Weller's authority somewhere for regarding
it as Italian), is used in America in a different sense, mean-
ing there to give in, feint, collapse.

Flunk. This word appears to be familiar to American
colleges, signifying an utter failure in recitation — while the
verb to flunk signifies to fail utterly.

Flunky. By no means equivalent to our English flunkey.
It is applied in American colleges to one who " flunks," and
in the American Stock Exchange to one who ventures to
speculate without sufiicient knowledge, and so comes to grief.
Probably all the usages of the words " flunk," " flunkey,"
&c., are associated with the Low German " fluukern," to
flaunt or flutter, or with the Danish " flonkeren," to glitter
faintly and but for a moment.

Fly, To, off the Handle. To lose temper, get unduly
excited.

Folks. The vulgarism " folks " for '-folk" is common
enough in England ; but so much more common in America
that it may almost be regarded as an Americanism. Bart-
lett points out the mistake which English writers make who,
" in trying to imitate Yankee talk, make Americans say
' folk.' " Of course the double plural " folks " is as incorrect
as"sheeps" would be, or"geeses," " mices," "mens," or
" childrens."

Foreign. Americans differ from the English in their use
of this word, for whereas we in England never call
Americans " foreigners," Americans almost invariably apply
the term to English folk. An Englishman would say, for
example, of a gathering that Americans and foreigners were
present ; whereas an American would never think of dis-
tinguishing Englishmen in such a way from Frenchmen,
Germans, Italians, and so forth. Although the population
of America is seven-tenths foieign, the dislike to '• foreigners"

is intense, and yearly gi'owing more so, especially among
those who, though not quite the latest comers, are but one
remove from being so.

FoRTiNO, for aught I know. See Farzino.

Fraud. The use of this word in America is peculiar.
Of course it is employed in its proper sense, to signify
trickery or a trick. But it is also applied to persons and
things in a sense which (farzino) is not known, except as
an Americanism, in the old country. A person is called a
'• fraud," not, as Bartlett says, wlien he is a cheat, or at
least not necessarily to signif)^ that he is a cheat, but when
he disappoints expectations. Thus an actor, of whom great
things had been heard, but who should be judged not so
clever as had been anticipated, would be described as a
" fraud," but certainly not with the idea of attributing
actual fraud to him. So a picture or a book or play which
proved disappointing is called a " fraud," without attribut-
ing (necessarily) any trickery to the painter or author. In
fact, the word is often applied to a landscape or other
natural object or phenomenon. For instance, I remember
hearing the Constellation of the Southern Cross called a
" fraud " by an American who saw it for the first time
under unfevourable conditions. (It always disappoints ex-
pectations unless first seen when nearly upright on the
southern horizon.)

An amusing illustration of the way in which the Ameri-
can use of this word is commonly misapprehended in
England occurred a few years ago at a meeting of the
Astronomical Society. 'Mv. Burnham, of Chicago, the well-
known observer of double stars, had pointed out a number
of blunders in Admiral Smyth's " Bedford Cycle," and had
spoken of the book as a " fraud," using the word in the
strictly American sense. Unfortunately, it so happened
that some of the mistakes were curiously suggestive of the
process which schoolboys call " fudging," meaning any pro-
cess by which results are made to look as if they had been
fairly worked out when they have really been " cribbed."
Fully persuaded that Mr. Burnham, in calling the " Bed-
ford Cycle ' a "fraud," m&ant to call the late Admiral
Smyth a cheat, several fellows at the meeting denounced
Mr. Burnham up hill and down dale. Now it is quite pos-
sible that under cross-examination he would have admitted
that he did not think all the observations recorded in the
" Cycle " had been really made. But to think a man not
strictly truthful is one thing, to proclaim him a liar is
another. Knowing the Amei'ican use of the word " fraud,"
I thought it only just to my absent friend to point out that
Ml-. Burnham's calling the " Bedford Cycle " a " fraud "
implied only that he had been disappointed in it. It is hardly
necessary to say that in a gathering of Englishmen, only
four or five of whom knew anything whatever about Ameri-
canisms, the explanation was greeted with ironical cheers,
and supposed to be a mere bit of special pleading. But it
was just all the same. The word "fraud," as Americans
use it, no more implies (of necessity) intentional fraud ulence
than our English slang word " sell " implies of necessity an
actual sale. By the way, the word " fraud," as thus used
in America, is very nearly, but not quite, equivalent to our
English " sell."

Freeze, To. To " freeze to " any one means to cling
to him. The expression is equivalent to our English slang
" to cotton to " any one.

Freight. — Besides its use as in England, tliis word, in
conjunction with " car," signifies a carriage on a goods
train. A " luggage van " on a passenger train is commonly
called a " baggage car " in America; a "goods train" is
called a " freight train," and what we ought to call a " goods
car," a " goods van " (but probably railway men call it
otherwise), is in America called a " freight car."

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

185

Fhesh. Overbold. I have heard the word " fresh "
used in this sense oftener in the South than in other parts
of America.

Freshet. Bartlett is careful to explain that this word,
whicli he describes as now only in use in America, Ls really
old English. I imagine that our English dictionary which
did not give this word would be thought a poor one.

Frisco. San Francisco is thus familiarly called in the
States.

Frolic, used for a " part}' on a frolic," seems to be a true
Americanism.

Front. In England the I)ack of a book is the part where
the leaves are held together; and if we spoke of the "front"
at all we should mean the part opposite the back. But in
America the " front " of a book is the beginning, and the
back of the book is the end. Thus Mark Twain, in his
" Interview," speaks of looking up the word in the back
part of Webster's Dictionary among the pictures, where we
should say near the end of the book. So an American might
speak of the words beginning with A and B as occupying
the front of the dictionary. The usage is a trifle absurd.

Front Najie. The Christian name.

Froughy. Spongy, brittle, hence inferior in quality, as
" froughy butter " for rancid butter. Commonly heard in
the North of England.

Frump, To. To insult. This good old word, freely used by
the Elizabethan dramatists, is still heard in New England.

Full Chisel. Full speed. Like our English slang
" full split," " full swing."

Funeral. The most characteristic Americanism in con-
nection with this word is its use in such expressions as
" This is mi/ funeral," meaning my special business, or, still
more cliaracteiistically, " It ain't none of my funeral,"
meaning " It's no business of mine." There are parts of the
States where " funerals " are the principal entertainments
known to the public ; hence they receive much attention
from manager and the performers (other than the player of
the principal part), and excite great interest among all classes
of the community. This has led to the separation of the
funeral from the burial. "Hamlet" is played without the
presence of the gloomy prince ; and by interposing a suffi-
cient interval the occasion becomes one of something like
merrymaking.

DON'T! "*

LITTLE manual of social proprieties, pub-
lished under the name of " Don't I " has
obtained a wide circulation ; and, as its
negative precepts are inspired by much
good sense and good taste, we liave no
doubt the tiny book will prove of real
value. But, while good social habits are
well worth forming, good intellectual ones
are at least of equal importance ; and it occurs to us that
there is ample room for a manual that, in a series of brief
and pithy sentences, would place people on their gu.ird
against the most obvious intellectual eriors and vices.
Possibly the objection might be raised that, while everybody
wants to be cured of his or her social solecisms (if the ex-
pression may be permitted), none so little desire to be cured
of intellectual faults as those who are most subject to them.
Who, it might be asked, applie-; the moral denunciations
of the pulpit to himself? Who would apply to himself the
cautions of your proposed manual ? Granted, we reply, that

* From the Popular Sciciicr Montldii. A charming little article
by the Editor. Some o£ these " Don'ts " should be printed in gold
letters in our studies ; for we students of science don't always
remember these e.xcellent rules.

it is easier to bring home to the individual conscience the
sin of eating with a knife than the sin of reasoning falsely
or acting unjustly, we should still be glad to see a telling
compilation of the most needed " Don'ts " for the use of all
and singular who make any profession of an independent
use of their intellects. Some of the maxims would be
commonplace ; but then the object would not be to lay down
novel truths so much as to enforce old ones. Let us throw
out a few at random, by way of a start : —

Don't think that what you don't know is not worth
knowing.

Don't conclude that, because you can't understand a thing,
nobody can understand it.

Don't despise systems of thought that other men have
elaborated because you cannot place yourself at once at
their point of view.

Don't interpret things too much according to your own
likes and dislikes. The world was not made to please any-
body in particular, or to confirm anybody's theories.

Don't imagine that, because a thing is plain to you, it
ought to be equally so to everybody else.

Don't insist on making things out simpler than they
really are ; on the other hand -

Don't affect far-fetched and over-elaborate ex))lanations.
Don't be overwise. Why should you make a fool of
yourself?

Don't imagine that anything is gained by juggling with
words or by evading difficulties.

Don't refuse to change the point of view of a question, if
requested by an opponent to do so. A true conclusion can-
not be invalidated by any legitimate process of argument.

Don't be inordinately surprised when a man who knows
(juite as much as you do on a given subject, and perhaps a
little more, does not agree with you in your conclusions
thereon. Try the effect of being surprised that you don't
agree with him.

Don't keep on hand too many cut-and-dried theories. A
foot-rule is a convenient thing for a carpenter to cany about
with him ; but a man who is always " sizing up " other
people's opinions by a private rule of his own is apt to be a
bore.

Don't bo in a hurry to attribute bad motives or dishonest
tactics to an opponent. Try to get an outside view of your
own motives and tactics.

Don't refuse to hold your judgment in suspense when the
evidence is not sufficient to warrant a conclusion.

Don't imagine that, because you have got a few new
phrases at your tongue's end, you have all the stock-in-trade
of a philosopher, still less that you are a philosopher.

Don't try to express your meaning till you have made it
clear to yoiu'self.

Don't argue for the sake of arguing; always have some
practical and useful object in view, or else hold your peace.

Don't grudge imparting what you know, and do it with
simplicity.

Don't prosecute any study out of idle curiosity or vanity.
If you have time for intellectual work, be a serious and
honest worker.

Don't be too eager to "get credit" for what you do.
Don't undervalue the work of others.
Here we have a score or so of maxims of the prohibitive
kind, and the number might be indefinitely increased. There
is no doubt the intellectual progress of the world might be
hastened, and the good order and harmony of society greatly
imjjroved, if these precepts and others like unto them were
more carefully observed. Whether we get another '' Don't "
manual or not, sensible people should think of these things,
and try to bring their intellectual habits at least up to a
level with their social ones.

180

♦ KNO^VLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1887.

THE JAPANESE MAGIC MIRROR.

By Dr. E. F. Hutchinson.

HAVE, at last, realised the longings of my boy-
hood, and am in possession of a Japanese magic
mirror. I have a hazy recollection of an
attempt — I think, by Sir D. Brewster — to solve
the mystery to the learned, but its effect on
me was to sink me deeper in the mire of
mystification. Even now, after repeated and
careful experiments, I am in statu, and can offer no expla-
nation of the optical mystery, nor can many to whom I have
exhibited it. If yon, or any of your readers, can enlighten
me, I shall be deeplj- obliged.

I send you a rub of the back of the mirror, which
will help you to understand the magic. The body is
bronze, the face is said to be steel. It may be silvered,

y

X

and, as far as I can make out, is quite plane. Your face is
reflected, as in any other mirror, though perhaps not so
clearly as in our own looking-glasses.

On the reverse a goose or swan is stamped out in relief,
enveloped in its own plumage, and standing out about
•05 inches above the chequer- work of the ground. Now for
the mystery. Eefleet the sun with an ordinary plane mirror,
and you obtain a replica of the ftxce of the mirror on the
wall, .slightly smaller than the original. Reflect the magic
mii-ror, and you see, not the replica of the face, but the
image of the goose, surrounded by a glory of triangular
rays. A.nd, what is very strange, you do not see the image
you have on the reverse, but another one altogether;
thus, you see a dot on the beak, which is non-existent
in the image at the back, and you do not see the drop of
ink which you may place on the neck ; further, you do not
see the surrounding chequer-work, on the wall. Now, how
is this? I cannot explain.

Another very remarkable phenomenon is witnessed on
handling the mirror in sunlight. You are distinctly aware
of tiro surfaces, and, if you move the mirror, the particles (?)
of the two surfaces pass each other in opposite directions,
like microscopic iridescent aerolites: one shown pa.ssing,
say, from north to south, and the other in the opposite
direction. This is very strange to see. Further, if you
look for a second at the surface in the sun, you cannot .see
the bii-d, hut your companion sees it on your face. The
natives to whom I have shown it are amazed, and regard it
as witchcraft {jiiih'i-r/a'ri).

Another Japanese curio which I greatly value is a mag-
nificent crystal ball, about three inches in diameter — and this,
too, is great medicine to the natives, exhibiting, as it does,
a lovely miniature panorama of the surroundings ; but what
amazes them is, that, though cold as ice, they cannot hold it
in their hands in the sun, inasmuch as it burns like fury,
and I often have to save it from being dropped by them like
a hot potato.

person,
r I as if
mirror

C (PC =

OUR PUZZLES (SOLUTIONS).

rZZLE XXVIIL— AVhen anyone looks at his

reflection in a mirror, he sees himself not as

his friends see him, but with his left side doing

duty as his right, and his right side doing duty

as his left. But suppose AC, bc to represent

the horizontal sections of two mirrors at right

angles, r and l the right and left side of a

p, facing the corner c. Then there will be an image

behind mirror AC, and an image 1' r' as if behind the

EC. But there wUl also be an image r' l' as if beyond

cp'), and situate as shown. (The dotted line r»i nh,

shows how the point l is seen from p in direction vm and
as if at l'.) This image appears to the person himself at p,
as he appears to his friends, the right .side h' fticing the
observer's left, and the left side facing the observer's right.

It is not necessary to have mirrors such as AC, BC. Two
narrow strips of glass, supposed to be shown in section at
nc and mc, will suffice to show the observer his own
image, as if at ?'. In fact all that is necessary in such
cases is that a space should be mirrored near c so large that
if this mirrored part were an opening in the wall, the
whole of the observer's person set at p' would be visible
from p.

Wherever the observer may go within the space BCA
he will see his image at c. If the two vertical mirrors
nc and mc, which are supposed to meet in a vertical line
at c, be set in rotation about a vertical axis through c, the
observer at p will see his image at c during one quarter of
each rotation ; and if the rotation is sufliciently rapid ho
will see his image apparently unmoving all the time.

Puzzle XXIX. — It will be easily seen by the student
that if BC, AC are two mirrored sides of a room, the hori-
zontal ceiling of which is also a mirror, then an image will
further be formed as if beyond the corner above c, and
at the same distance beyond that corner that that corner
lies from p. This image will be inverted. (The student
will find it a useful exercise to draw lines corresponding to
p»i, 7)in, m, in the simpler case just dealt with, showing
how the various parts of the inverted image above p' will
be seen respectively on the ceiling, and on the two mirrored
walls CA, CB, close by the corner.) Thus, looking at any of
the top corners of the room, if walls and ceilings near those
corners are all mirrored, the observer will there see his face
(and figure if the mirror surfaces extend far enough)
inverted. He will see the like if he looks at the four lower
corners (similarly mirrored).

Thus there will be eight inverted images at the eight
corners of the room, wherever the observer be situate inside
the room.

Puzzle XXX. — If the twelve edges of the room (that
is the place-s where walls meet walls, floors, and ceilings)
be lined with mirrors to a suflicient breadth, the observer,
wherever he be situate, will see twelve images of himself
along the edges, viz. four upright in the four vertical edges,
and eight inverted in the edges bounding floor and ceiling.
He will further see eight inverted images at the eight angles
of the room.

June 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

187

If the six plane faces of a room (all rectangular) be
mirrored throughout their extent, an observer in the room,
besides twelve images in the edge-i and eight in the corners,
will see six images in the six faces (not to count reduplica-
tions— which can never be fully seen), or twenty-six images
in all.

THE SCIENCE OF THOUGHT,"
MULLER.^^

BY F. MAX

HIS new work of Professor Max Muller's will
not find favour with .«uch a lai-ge circle of
readers as his charming " Lectures on the
Science of Language," which have done so
much to popularise the study of comparative
philology in this country. '' The Science of
Thought " is a trifle too scholastic, .abstract,
and philosophical to captivate the general
reader, but the linguistic student will find it worth studying
on account of the valuable and interesting philological
matter it contains. More than three hundred pages are
devoted to the origin and growth of speech, to roots and
formation of words.

Our author still fondly clings to the belief that we cannot
think without words — " that language and thought are in-
separably united." This is one of the idols of Professor
Max Miiller. It may be that we are now such slaves to
words that we think in and with them, but it was not
always so. And surely our own experience in this matter
counts for something, in spite of the dicta of logicians to
whom thought and language are inseparable. Are we not
conscious of thoughts too deep for utterance, and of imagin-
ings that soar far bej'ond the reach of speech ? Do not oiu-
words call up thoughts and feelings of the past and produce
sensations of pleasure or pain ] We cnnnot regard language,
highly as we value it as a mark of intelligence, as the only
" true history of mankind." Is not language, written or
unwritten, only one phase of mentxl activity 1 Are not
works of art, inventions, ka., indications of mental growth as
well as language ?

The science of thought is, in our opinion, quite distinct
from the science of language ; each may throw light upon
the other, but the genesis of the word will by no me;ins
explain the genesis of the antecedent thought. Each has
its own history, and the development of the one is inde-
pendent of the other. Philologists have, for the most part,
left untouched the " origin of sjieech," and have confined
themselves to the origin of roots — products of grammatical
analysis — none the less real, on that account, than are the
elements which are arrived at by a chemical analysis. We
are glad to find that Prof. Max Miiller is of opinion that
the linguistic student should not lose sight of the beginnings
of speech, but should be on the look-out for whatever may
throw light upon what may be regarded as the most fasci-
nating part of philology.

The bow-wowists and pooh-poohists get, as usual, some
hard raps from the Pi-ofessor, but we are rejoiced to learn
" that interjections and imitations of natural sounds deserve
the serious attention " of those who have to do with the
origin of roots, the ultimate elements of language. In fixct,
he concedes more than we expected, for he is bold enough to
declare the Sk. root pii;/ (in Lat. ^)j«s, puHo ; Eng. foul,
itc.) " was very likely the residuum of a number of sounds
accompanying the acts of primitive men when rejecting
something unpleasant and expressing their disgust."

The ding-dong theory, first started by Prof. Heyse, " that
everything which is struck rings," is now given up in favour

* Longmans, Green, & Co. London. 1887.

of Noire's more recent theory of the origin of roots and
concepts. " Noire," says Prof Max Miiller, " begins his
argument by pointing out a well-known fact, that when-
ever our senses are excited and our muscles hard at work,
we feel a kind of relief in uttering sounds . . . particularly
when people work together, when peasants dig or thresh,
when sailors row, when women spin, when soldiers march,
they are inclined to accompany their occupations with certain
more or less rhythmical utterances. These utterances, noises,
shouts, hummings, or songs are a kind of natural reaction
against the inward disturbance caused by muscular efibrt.
They are almost involuntary vibrations of the voice, corre-
sponding to the more or less regular movements of our
whole bodily frame. They are a relief rather than an
effort, a moderation or modulation of the quickened breath
in its escape through the mouth. They may end in dance,
song, or poetry , . . . These sounds possess two great advan-
tages— they are signs of repeated acts, acts performed by our-
selves, and .... continuing in our memory as signs of such
acts .... These sounds being uttered from the beginning,
not by one solitary individual only, but by men associated
in a common work and united b\' a common purpose, possess
the great advantage of being understood by all" (p. 300-1).
On p. bXi'l we are told that roots owe their origin to the
clamor concomitans of our early social acts. . . . The history
of language dates " fi'om the first appearance of roots or
signs of self-willed acts, because it was by these roots only
that afterwards the objective products of such acts could at
one and the same time be both conceived and named. . . .
The very fact that roots had to be explained as sounds
accompanying the acts of many people working in common,
would explain the original variety of such sounds — a variety
due quite as much to the actual variety of individual sounds
as to the more or less delicate perceptive remembrance and
power of imitation possessed by different members of the
same gang. Xo doubt every one of these sounds was
uttered at first by one individual only, for everything in the
world is at first done by one individual only ; but that
individual must be a leader of men, and the true leader of
men is he who leads while being led. From the process of
leading while being led, two results would natui-ally follow : —
If these sounds were to answer their social purpose, that is,
if they were to be understood, it was necessary either that
one individual sound should in the end prevail and the rest
vanish, or that by a kind of friction and compromise
the various sounds which had been started should be
merged into one. The result in both cases would be
much the same ; the fittest sound would survive, the
others would slowly vanish unless they could be made
to answer some new and special purpose" (p. 302).

This view of Noire's is but one aspect of the subject, and
does not appear to us a satisfactory solution of the problem
how men first began to speak. AVe may still hear men in
gangs working together and uttering inarticulate sounds,
but they do not appear to have any special importance in
relation to language noi' seem better adapted, as the first
elements of speech, than other cries and exclamations. We
cannot believe that speech was wanting to men until they
had so far progressed as to make tools and to work in gangs
or companies. Hunting would probably be as primitive an
occupation as digging, but the hunter would not give utter-
ance to his emotions if he desired his efforts to be successful.
The vocable for " dig " arose long before men worked together
with spades or hoes. The Saiiskrit root khan, to dig, is an
attempt to imitate the scratching or scraping sound pro-
duced by primitive man in making a hole with his fingers
or with a flint or bone scraper (cf. the Sk. kha7«akhanaya, to
rustle — i.e., to make the sound kha«a-khana).

Our English words di(/ and dike can be traced to a root,

188

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1887.

dhigh (d/iar/li), which originally represented, perhaps, the dull
sound of thumping, pounding, &c. It signifies to knead,
form, mould, and to it must be referred English dough, Lat.
jingere, fyura, figmentum (cf. Sk. deha=dhegha, a body).
The earliest and rudest sounds may have been first
those natural ones that accompany feeling and sen-
sation, then onomatopoeias, rough imitations of those sounds
that would natiu-ally appeal to the ear, which organ
it has been observed is far more ideal than the eye. We
would, with Herbert Baynes, reverse the assertion of L.
Geiger and say that " Language has sprung from the ear,
from sound, and not from the eye and light." And we know
very well that words like dear, bright, &c., are derived from
roots that originally referred to sound. From what is loud
we can pass on by metaphor to what is dear or bright. Our
words blithe and bliss go back to a root meaning to shine,
which again is connected with a root denoting loud noise.
Such a root as Sanskrit dhil (of which we have allied forms
in dhnksh, to kindle ; dhi'ip, to smoke ; dhur, dhurv, to throw
down ; dhdv, to run, wash) is the outcome of a group of
onomatopojic roots imitative of the howUng wind, the roar-
ing fire, rushing water and rolling stones, and the phenomena
connected with them, as the shaking and rustling of trees,
ilashing cf fire, ic. Hence such derivatives as Sk.
dhi'ai, dust ; dliitma, smoke, fume ; Old Slavic da-chu, breath.
It has been urged against onomatopoeias that they are not
fertile, and produce no offspring. It may be so no(y perhaps,
because our wealth of words makes us independent of this
mode of adding to our vocabulary. But an onomatopwic
vocable had formerly a numerous progeny. Take, for
instance, the root bhki. {bhlad) ; from this have sprung the
English words blow, blabber, bladder, blast, blare, bluster,
blood, bloom, blossom, bloated— cf. 'Ln.tin flare, fatiis.flumen,
Jlosjtiamen ; Greek, c^Xi'eir, Trac^Xn'^r,., <^Aa(T/tns,A'C. If we look
at one of Professor Max Miiller's roots (11 Off, p. 631)
denoting " noise (inarticulate)," we shall find it by no means
iinjjrodactive.

A Sanskrit dictionary gives us numerous derivatives of the
root kruc;, among which we note words for reviling, pitying,
lamenting. The same root furnishes us with names for
jackal (kroshtu) and osprey (ut-ki-oi;a).

In Sanskrit, a highly developed and literary language, and
in many respects very artificial, we find abundant remains
of onomatopoeic roots, which are only a small sample of what
one finds in any of the living Hindu dialects descended from
Sanskrit. We find, however, in Sanskrit kit hfij, cry or sing
as a bird; kuiij , to rnsile ; guj, gun/, to buzz; ghu (ghu-r,
ghu-s), to utter a deep sound; ghrrughunh/a, to snore,
whistle ; cf. Marathi ghu-ghu, the hoot of the owl or
pigeon ; ghor, the death-rattle (Sk. ghora, terrible), a
swollen river, frightful, &c.

But we need not go on to multiply instances of the
onomatopwic element in language. We have ample proof
of its existence and influence. We need not be ashamed
of it — though we may indeed marvel that such a wonderful
work of art, as language undoubtedly is, has sprung from
such rude beginnings. It renders, however, what, at
first sight, seems wonderful and mysterious, simple and
intelligible.

Prof. I\Iax Miiller ably defends the fundamental prin-
ciples laid down by Bopp as against the followers of the new
school of Comparative Philology. He discusses many
interesting points connected with the old theory that some
suflixes contain " elements of independent significance."
Our upward, turning or bending up, he compares with the
Sanskrit ud-ak, which has the same meaning, from the pre-
position ud=^up, and the root ai'ic, to bend. He has a very
long discussion on the suffix tAti (Lat. -fas, Eng. -tij), the
conclusions of which are by no means convincing.

In taking leave of our author, we only hope that he may
have health and leisure to write the other " treatise " he
projjoses to give to the world, namely on " the Self that
seems to see and seems to think " — and " Who that Self is.'

(§ 0 2i£{lp.

By Richard A. Proctor.
A CORRESPONDENT Writes us a letter beginning —

Dear Sir, — Matter is spirit, is it not 1 Or what is spirit, or wLat
is matter ?

and so forth. I ask in answer simply — not, I fear, in the
right spirit — Does it matter 1

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT rebukes me for regarding it as a mere
superstition that after a misdeal there will be a singleton
among the hands next dealt — because " he feels bound to
regard it as a fact, though depending on a law not yet under-
stood." In other words, he does not happen to have noticed
any case when, after a misdeal, there has not been one
singleton at least among the hands next dealt. No amount
of such experience, however, would prove that to be a fact
which in the nature of things cannot be. On the contrary,
a single experience to the contrary proves that the supposed
fact is no fact : and I have observed at least a score of cases
in which there has been no singleton in the deal following
a misdeal. Science cannot, however, deal seriou.sly with
any idea involving the sequence of an event as if caused by
another, when, in the nature of things, there can be no
causation.

* * *

Playing without shuffling, or with very little shuffling,
there will be fewer singletons, as there will be fewer
irregular hands, than when the cards are freely shuffled —
and for very obvious reasons. When the cards are taken
up after a hand has been played they are in tricks, and
among the tricks a considerable number have all the four
cards of one denomination. Any such trick not separated
by shuffling, will in the next deal give one card of the same
suit to each player, and so will diminish the chance that
any player will get but one card of that suit. A few
undivided tricks will greatly diminish, then, the chance
that any player will get a singleton of any suit.

* * *

When, however, the deal following the misdeal is from
another pack the chance of a singleton cannot be increased
or diminished by the misdeal, through the operation of any
law, understood or misunderstood — unless the interruption
of the play leads to a fresh and extra-thorough shuffling of
the pack to be used for the next deal. Such shuffling to
some degree increases the chance of a singleton, and it is to
be remembered that the odds are always greatly in favour
of a singleton occurring, except when the cards are scarcely
shuffled at all, when as the play proceeds there is a decided
tendency to equally divided hands.

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT inquires why I removed the chapter on
" Other Universes " from Guillemin's Heavens as revised
by me ; and my opinion on the statements as to the dis-
tance of certain clusters in that chapter. I regard these
statements as without any foundation whatever in fact, and
I removed the chapter because I thought — or rather, I
knov} — that we have no sort of evidence in regard to ex-
ternal galaxies.

June 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

189

Serious illness in his family, and resulting anxieties
and lossas, prevent the Editor from devoting so much atten-
tion as usual to " Gossip " this month. For a like reason
no new puzzles are given, as the Editor has not had time to
de\Tse any which seemed suitable. Hereafter" Mathematical
Recreations " will take the place of the Puzzles.

The undersigned feels sure that INIr. Proctor's many
friends ■will be grieved to hear that a deep shadow has fallen
on the home which he has temporarily pitched in America
in the loss of two children, one of them a bright and charm-
ing boy of five years, through that terrible .slayer of the
Innocents — scarlet fever. These columns offer a convenient
place for our e.xpression of sympathy with Mr. and IMrs.
Proctor and their family. Edw.^rd Ci.odd.

Overwork and Premat}i.rf: Mental Decay : its Treatment.
By C. H. F. PvOUTH, M.D. Fourth Edition. (London:
Baillit-re, Tindall & Cox. 1886.)— Reading through Dr.
Routh's eminently plain, sensible, and practical essay, we do
not wonder that it has already reached its fourth edition. In
our existing condition of incessant toil after wealth, position,
and pleasure, with men and women essaying to accomplish
three or four times the amount of work done by their grand-
fathers and grandmothers in the same time ; with our extra-
ordinary facilities for rapid locomotion, and with our purely
artificial condition of existence, what wonder if the over-
wrought machine gives way, and the originallj' strong man
becomes the veriest wreck of his former self \ How and
why this result supervenes, and under what treatment its
victim may be restored, Dr. Routh here tells us, and his
little book may be commended a.s a thoi'oughly trustworthy
guide to all upon whom worry and care are in any degree
beginning to tell.

Alexanders Empire. By J. P. Mahaffv, D.D., with
the collaboration of Arthur Gillman, M.A. (London :
T. Fisher Unwin. 1887.) — Nothing probably is more
familiar to the student of history than the story of the suc-
cession of victories by which the mighty Macedonian
subjugated so large a proportion of the then known world ;
but the manner in which the different parts of his dominion
waxed and waned until they were finally swallowed up in
that edax rernm the Roman Empire, is by no means so well
known. It is, then, to the elucidation of this that the
narrative of Professor ilahafly is addressed. By far the
most interesting part of his work is that in which he traces
the influence of Hellenism on the conquered peoples, and
■shows to what an extent it dominated the ideas of Rome
itself. In this connection chapters xiv., xx., and xxxii. may
be singled out as well worth}' of study. With reference to
the chronicles of the numerous wars into which the members
of the once consolidated empire plunged, we fear that they
will require more sustained attention than the larger pro-
portion of readers will be either able or willing to bestow.
In fiict, so confusing are the iterations and reiterations of
certain names, that Doctor Mahaffy thoughtfully concludes
with a " List of Names easily confounded." The illustra-
tions, of which there are no le.ss than forty-four, are one and
all apposite, and show the perfection to which Greek art
attained in architecture, sculpture, and numismatics.

The Deviation of the Compass in Iron iildps. By W. H.
RossER. Second edition. (London : Jas. Imi-ay i Son.
1887.) — It has been known certainly ever since the twelfth
century that a magnetic needle, so balanced as to play hori-

zontally about its pivot, points more or less approximately
to the north according to the part of the world in which the
observation is made. In fact, the Chinese claim to have
employed it in navigation from a period of the hoariest
antiquity. Now, as long as the directive force actuating
the needle resides solely in the earth itself, the jjhenomena
exhibited are sufficiently simple, and the compass is a com-
paratively trustworthy instrument ; and as this condition of
things obtained in efl'ect as long as .ships were built of wood
alone, the compass has foi' centuries been an aid of priceless
value to the navigator. But with the substitution of iron
and steel for wood in shipbuilding a total change has taken
place in the circumstances under which the compass is
employed ; for every iron ship that is built becomes herself
a gigantic magnet, with the direction of its polarity de-
pendent upon the position which the vessel occupied with
reference to the magnetic meridian during the time she was
being built, with the result that the most remarkable devia-
tions are found in the infinitely less powerful magnets of
the compasses on board. In Mr. Rosser's excellent work the
methods of ascertaining the exact amount of deviation of
the compass on board of an iron ship, both on an even keel
and when heeling to any extent, of the mechanical methods
of correcting such deviation, and of the tabulation of residual
errors at all azimuths, are lucidlj' laid down and explained
in language which must be intelligible to ever}' one com-
petent to navigate a vessel at all. Whether for sea use, for
the Board of Trade examination, or for the professional
compass-adjuster, no more useful or intelligible book than
the one before us has, so far, been published.

Shoring and Its Application. By Geo. H. Blagrove.
(London : Crosby Lockwood & Co. 1887.) — -Here is an-
other excellent and thoroughly practical volume on a sub-
ject, the importance of which in connection with public
safety can hardly be over-estimated. Within the compass
of eighty-nine pages, ]\Ir. Blagrove deals with the whole art
of shoring, from its simple application in preventing the fall
of old and decaying walls and partly destroyed houses, up
to the complicated devices for the support of such structures
as St. Alban's Abbey and Beverley Minster. Our author
has made a distinct and valuable addition to the literature
of the building art.

Messrs. Longmans send us an excellent Geographical
/.Vf A )■ adapted for the Seventii Standard ; and we have also
to acknowledge the current number of their magazine, of
which " Allan Quatermain " is the attractive feature ; also
of the American Naturalist, in which the valuable papers ou
the " Significance of Sex " are completed.

<!B\\v WBWt Column.

By " Five of Clubs."

HE following game was played recently at Mel-
bourne. Tl^e wbist editor of the Australasian
played hand Y. The point of the game lies in
the play by I" of a small diamond at trick 2. It
will be seen by his notes that 1' considers the
play, though unusual, to have been justified by
the position. I cannot but think he risked the
loss of the game by passing. Tbia opinion is not
based solely on the error in calculating chances
into which Y fell, as his notes show. That error, by the way, is
very natural. It was made bj' the well-known mathematician,
D'Alembert (when, however, the mathematics of chance problems
was as yet in its infancy), in dealing with the toss of a coin. There
are three events, he said : two heads, two tails, and one of each ;
therefore the odds are two to one against the last. They are in
reality even, because one of each may occur in two ways — head
tail or tail head.

190

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[.June 1, 1887.

-{

THE HANDS.
S. (^trumj/ny—Kn, S, 6, 5, 2.
H.— 8, 6, 5, 4.

D.-
C-

', 6./

-10, 7
■10,

'S. (tps).—K.

H.— Kn, i), 3.

C— 8, 7, 4, 3, 2.
I D.— K, 8, 4, 3.

S (tj)s).-Q. 7, 4, 3,
H.— A, K, Q. 10.
C— A, Kn, !i. (

D.— Kn, 9. J

2

, f S (triimps).-
^IH.— 7, 2.

-A, 10, 9.

A B play against Y and Z.
Card underlined wins trick ;

10

11

A

T

B

z

0

0
0
O

0 0
0 0

0 0

0^0
0 0

—1—

0

0 0

o^o

<>M«

ff^''

0*0

i^»

o

0 0

m\

<7

s?

<?

9

V

<?

<?

^

._'?

«

f

A

4^

'

b •

*

' ♦

♦

♦

—

i!—

<? <7

I^ (?

<?

c? <;?

<? <P

0 0

0
0 o

0 0
0%

— 4—

D.— A, Q, e, r,, 2.\

C.-K, Q, 5. /

Score -.—A B four ; T Z tour,
card underneath leading next.

Notes by the Wiiist Editor
of the " austeal.isian."

Trick l.^At the end of this
trick Y knew that there were at
most two Diamonds of unknown
comparative values, to distribute
between I' and Z. The only pos-
sible arrangements were : — B two
Diamonds, if none ; B one, .?one ;
B none, Ztwo. Consequently, on
the assumption that A led from
five Diamonds, the odds were two
to one that B or Z was void of the
diamond suit. Again, incase that
the distribution turned out to be
one Diamond with B and one with
Z, it was exactly an even chance
that Z would be able to win the
trick. Of course Y was bound to
bear in mind the contingency that
Z had begun to call for trumps.
But with the score at four all
strong trumps in Z's hand would
win without his resorting, on the
first opportunity, to a call for a
trump lead.

Trick 2. — Without reference to
the wisdom or otherwise of the
adoption generally of the system
of American leads, A ought to
have played the diamond five
rather than the Diamond two.
For by leading the Diamond two
he practically relieved Y's mind
of all doubt as to wliether Z had
or had not begun at Trick 1 to call
for trumps. Z was right in plaj-
ing the Diamond four. For on the
contingency that one or other of
the two players behind him was
void of the Diamond suit, it was
an even chance it would be B who
would trump; and on the other
contingency that there was a
Diamond in each of the hands, it
was also an even chance, as has
been already pointed out in the
note on Trick 1, that Z would be
able to win the trick. Again, if
3' had put on the Diamond king
and won the tiick, he could not
have led a Club from a suit of five
headed by the eight. He must
have led the Heart knave. But
with his weak cards he wanted
guidance from Z as to what to do
in the interests of the combined
hands. Besides, in any case he
blocked the opponent's suit, and
this was pretty well all the lielp
he was able to give towards
winning the game.

Trick 3. — Z had four trumps,
together with Club ace and the
complete command of Hearts.
Also the command of Diamonds was with T. Consequently at this
stage of the game the Spade three looked like the best lead.

'*J^

9 <7

H

<?

"^r."^
<?

i^^^

^ ^

-6—

off^i*!^

LijaJ

—6-

* 4-
4.

4. 4.

4-

ft

4^

—3—

©

4- 4-
4. 4-

4^ ♦!

*A*

4.'='4-
4.*4.

4- 4-

*A*

4-^4-
4> 4-

if 4

And 1',? win the odd trick
the game.

Trick 6. — A very naturally placed the Diamond eight with Y, and
the Diamond king with Z. But as the event proved, both these cards
were with Y.

Trick 8.— Fnow played the Diamond king with deadly effect. B
properly trumped with the knave, not with the eight, because he
wished to puzzle Zas to the position of that card. But as the Club
ace was with 1", the game was lost to A B at the next trick.

One of Mr. F. H. Lewis's published games, which has been repro-
duced in The Australasian, admirably illustrates the point of
keeping back the best card of a plain suit. But in that example the
necessity of that line of action was not developed till near the end of
the play of the hand, while in the preceding hand the possibility
of having to resort to it was suggested to I'at the end of the very
first trick.

Notes by " Five of Clubs."

Tricks 1 and 2. — A is evidently not a believer in the American
leads, according to which the five should have been led second
round. Y's play of the four, where usually the best card would be
played second round, is the point of the game. Holding the eight
himself, he knows, from the play of B and Z to the first round, that
only ten, knave, and queen can possibly be held by B or Z, unless
one or other is signalling ; and from ^'s lead, indicating five
Diamonds in -I's hand, I" knows that only two of these high cards (it
matters little which two) can be between B and Z — possibly but one.
(There must be one, and, if one, it must be either queen or knave,
since otherwise A would not h.ive followed with the small card.) In
the more probable event that two cards lie between B and Z, it is
an even chance that one or other is void. For calling these cards
knave and ten, the possible arrangements, all equally likely, are : —
B holds both, Z none ; B holds knave, Z ten ; B holds ten, Z
knave ; and B holds none, Z both. If there is only one Diamond
between B and Z, it is, of course, an equal chance that B or ^ holds
it. It is an even chance, in all events, that B or Z can take the
trick, supposing Y plays his small card. At the score I cannot
recognise the expediency of keeping back the king to block J's
long suit. The odd trick is apt to depend on other considerations.
I should have played the king, and, on the fall of the other two
Diamonds, have led the Diamond four, enabling .?'to ruff under favour-
able conditions. The 4th, 5th, and 6th tricks would thus have been iden-
tical with the 3rd, 4th, and 5th in the actual game ; and YZvujuld have
needed only three tricks to make the odd. If A had gone on with
the Diamond queen, if would have captured her, leading a Heart for
I' to win by overrulEng A ; and the ace of Clubs would have made
the odd trick sure. If .4. had lo-l Club king, it would have fallen to
Z's ace, i" would have overruffed Hearts as before, and leading a
Diamond, if would have made ihe odd trick by ruffing. I'could not
know that Z could thus support his strategy; but I submit that
this is the right sort of strategy for securing the odd trick. Had
the play been for or against bringing in a long suit, I"s holding back
the king might have been justified.

Trick 3. — At the score the lead seems just.

Trick 5.— Here, I think, iT should have led trumps (holding length
in them). The odds are in favour of A being able to ruff, as he
certainly holds three Diamonds, w-hereas Y cannot hold more than
two. Forcing the enemy is certainly not Z's game at the score.

Trick 8. — Y plays his best Diamond effectively, but not more
effectively than he might have played a losing Diamond at Trick 3,
had he taken Trick 2 with his king.

The best proof that Y gave up some of his chances by pUying the
small Diamond ma}' be seen in the play of the game when the
Diamond knave and ten are interchanged. It is obvious that had
B held the knave I''s actual play would h.ave lost the game. But
the plain strategy I have suggested above would have won the
game even in this case, as the following play shows : —

Trick 1.

2.

„ 3.

„ 4.

,4

D A
— 1—
D 2

D 5

H2

H 7

S 9

2

C K

r
D 3

DK
— 1—
D 4

H 3

n9

HKn
C2

B

D 7

D Kn
C G
H 4
H 5
H .3
C 10

Z

D 9

D 10

S 3
— 2—
H K
-3--
H Q
— 4-
H A

C A

„ 8.

. S 10

SK

H8

H 1

„ 9. .

. D 6

— c—

D8

&c., io.

SKn

SQ

-7-

June 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE

191

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR JUNE.

By F.E.A.S.

HE sun may be watched for the isolated spots
which have somewhat unexpectedly begun to
reappear at intervals on his surface. The night
sky will be found depicted on Map VI. of " The
Stars in their Seasons " ; but there is no real night
during the entire month in any part of the British
Islands, twilight persisting from sunset to sunrise.
From the 19th to the 22nd in London the sun will
be 16h. 31m. above the horizon. Mercury is an
evening star throughout June, and does not set until nearly 10 o'clock
at night about the 18th, at which date he maybe easily detected
with the naked eye after sunset over the ^:.W. by W. part of the
horizon. Venus is also an evening star, and is the most brilliant
object in the sky. As it happens, she sets at her latest (llh. P.M.)
about tlie ISth, the same date that Mercury does. Her figure in the
telescope is now approaching that of the Moon when in her first
quarter. Mars is invisible. Jupiter is approaching the west, and
must be looked for as soon after suEset as he is visible. He will be
found to the E.X.E. of Spica Virginis (" The Stars in their Seasons,"
Map V. or VI.). The certainly visible phenomena of his satellites
of course decrease in number. On the 1th Satellite III. will be
occulted 19 minutes after midnight. On the 5th Satellite I. will
begin its transit at llh. 5Sm. r.ii. ; as will the shadow it casts at
12h. o5m. On the 6th the same satellite will reappear from eclipse
at 12h. 18m. 33s. P.M., as will Satellite II. subsequently at
12h. .51m. 29s. On the 7th the egress of the shadow of Satellite I.
happens at 9h. 36m. p.m. On the 13th Satellite II. will be occulted
at lOh. 19m. P.M., as will Satellite I. afterwards at llh. Om. On
the 11th the egress of Satellite I. from Jupiter's disc will occur at
lOh. 27m. P.M., its shadow following it at llh. 31m. On the 15th
the egress of the shadow of Satellite II. takes place at lOh. 7m. P.M.,
and the ingress of the shadow of Satellite III. at lOh. 2Gm. The
latter will pass off Jupiter's opposite limb twenty minutes after mid-
night. On the 21st Satellite I. will begin its transit at lOh. 5m. P.M.,
followed by its shadow at llh. 13m. The visibility of the egress of
the satellite is very doubtful. On the 22nd Satellite III. will enter
on to Jupiter's face at 9h. 39m. P.M. Then the ingress of
the shadow of Satellite II. wUl happen at lOh. 7m., the
satellite casting it passing off the opposite limb of the planet at
lOh. 21m. At lOh. 36m. 7s. Satellite I. will reappear from
eclipse; and at llh. 45m. Satellite III. will leave the disc of Jupiter.
On the 29th, the transit of Satellite II. begins at lOh. 12m. p.m. ; and
finally, on the 30th, the shadow of Satellite I. will pass off at 9h. 50m.
p.m. Saturn, for the observer's purpose, has left us until the autumn.
Uranus may still be picked up immediately the twilight is deep
enough to the S.W. of y Virginis ; but he is very near to the horizon.
The Moon is full on the 5th at lOh. 38-3m. P.M. ; enters her last
quarter at Ih. 31-8m. P.M. on the 13th ; is new at lOh. 62 8m. A.M.
on the 21st, and enters her first quarter at lOh. I'Om. A.M. on the
28th. Five occultations of fixed stars by the Moon will occur
during June at convenient hours for the observer. On the 2nd, 94
Virginis, a star of the Cth magnitude, will disappear at the dark
limb of the Moon at Sh. 29m. P.M. at an angle from her vertex of
33.5°. It will reappear at her bright limb at 8h. 39m. P.M. at an
angle of 319° from her vertex. On the 1th, 49 Libras a 5^th-mag-
nitade star, will disappear at the dark limb at 7h. 55ra. p.m. at an
angle of 345° from the vertex of the Moon. It will reappear at
8h. 30m. at her bright limb, at a vertical angle of 284°. On the
.5lh, 29 Ophiuchi, of the 6th magnitude, will disappear at the
dark limb at oh. 52m. p.m. at an angle from the Sloon's vertes:
of 60°. The Moon, however, will be so nearly full that the
effect will be that of a disappearance at her bright edge. The re-
appearance at her really bright limb occurs at 9h. 59m. P.M. at
an angle of 224° from her vertex. On the 6th, B.A.C. G081, of
the 6tli magnitude, will disappear at the bright limb at 8h. 40m.
P.M. at a vertical angle of 20°, reappearing at the dark
limb at 9h. 39m. at an angle from the vertex of 258°. Lastly,
on the night of the 10th, 45 Capricorni, of the 6th magnitude,
will disappear at the Moon's bright limb at llh. 49m., at
an angle of 42° from her vertex ; to reappear at her dark limb
53 minutes after midnight at a vertical angle of 275°. At noon on
the 1st the Moon is in Virgo, across which she is tra%'elling until
3h. A.M. on the 3rd, when she enters Libra (" The Seasons Pic-
tured," plate xsvi.). She remains in Libra until lOh. P.M. on the
4th, at which hour she arrives at the boundary of the narrow
northern spike of Scorpio. She has traversed this by 6h. 30m. the
next morning, and emerged in Ophiuchus, her pa.ssage through
which is completed by 9h. P.M. on the 6th, when she crosses into
Sagittarius. She is in Sagittarius until oh. 30m. A.M. on the 9th,
and she then enters Capricornus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate

xxi.). Her journey through Capricornus ends at 7h. a.m. on the
11th, when she crosses the boundary into Aquarius, and she quits
Aquarius in turn for Pisces at lOh. A.M. on the 13th (•' The Seasons
Pictured,'' plate xxii.). It is not until 4h. P.M. on the 16th that she
has traversed this great straggling constellation and entered on the
northern confines of Cetus. She leaves this outlier of Cetus at
6 o'clock the next morning, and enters Aries. By 10 a.m. on the
18th her journey over Aries is completed, and she pisses into
Taurus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiii.). As she travels
through Taurus, she reaches, at 4h. 30m. A.M. on the 21st, the edge of
the northernmost portion of Orion. It takes her just 12 hours to
cross this, and she then emerges in Gemini ('• The Seasons Pic-
tured," plate xxiv.). She continues in Gemini until 9h. 30m. A.M.
on the 23rd, at which hour she enters Cancer. She passes from
Cancer into Leo at 9h. 30m. p.m. on the 21th, and is in Leo until
lOh. A.M. on the 27th, when she passes into Virgo (" The Seasons
Pictured,'' plate xxv.), and this she quits in turn for Libra at
I Oh. A.M. on the 30th, her passage across the whole width of Virgo
thus occupying exactly 72 hours (" The Seasons Pictured," plate
xxvi.). She is still in Libra at midnight on the 30th.

#ur CftfsiS Column.

By " Mephisto."

I POSITION in a game played in a handicap tournament at tlic
British Cliess Club, White having received the odds of two
moves at starting. ^ „

° L. HOFPEE.

Black.

WurrE.
Wainkigut.
White plaved

K X P R to Q7 (ch)

If B X H, then Q to KtG (c-h) would win.

Q X R B X R

Q to Q6 (ch) K to B sq

B to QR sq B to Q sq

R X B R X Q

P X B Q to B3 (cli)

K to Kt sq Resigns.

Position in a game played, at the odds of two moves, between
Messrs. Mills and Gunsberg.

1. (;fNSRERr,.
Bi..\(;k.

...... ...M ^ ^''^

■ ■ » i*"^

xmrmm
mkmm w

''wTi

White.
D. Y. Mills.

192

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[June 1, 1887.

As may be seen from this position. Black was too intent upon
gaining an advantage on the Queen's side, and did not sufficiently
heed his opponent's doings on his K side, the result being that
White now won as follows : —

B to Kt5 K to Esq

Black had no satisfactory move.

B X B P X B ?

Q to EC (ch) Resigns.

Position, after the forty-first move, in the second game of the
match Blackburne v. Zukertort, played at the British Chess Club,
May 9, 1887.

Blackburne.
Black.

iii S » * » *

WM W''^/ p^^ A wsa^^

■ fciiKI ■

^^'^ W^M ^^ ^S.2^<

S/Ts^ -r^Mn ^^^^ '(ra^'

Si IM ^ 1^

White.
ZUKEKTOET.

The game proceeded in the following very interesting manner : —

42. P to R6 1 P to Kt3

The altern.ative moves of P x P. 43. R x P would have led to a
loss by a slow process, as White would three times attack the black
RP, which could not be effectively defended.

4.3. P X P
Both White and Black must have expended a good deal of thought
on their last moves. Black has no alternative now but to accept
the consequences.

QxR

44. QxQ RxQ

4.5. P to Kt7 R X B

Kt to Q2 would not prevent the Queening of the Pawn, as White
would reply to this with P to Kt6 1

46. P (Queens) RxB

47. P to Kt6 I

All this is very fine and strong, and the reader must be puzzled to
know how such a game can be lost.

P to KtO

48. QxB PxQKtP

49. P to R3

49. P X P was much simpler, and created less of a block if
R(K6) X P then R to E2, and advances the QRP.

R to QB2

Taking the best advantage of the position, and threatening to
come down with his Rooks as a last desperate chance, especially as
the Kt effectively protects the K against the (j.

50. Q to KtS

White should not have allowed Black to double his Rooks on the
7th row, as then the game becomes very difficult. Two moves can
be played by White— ^either 50. Q to KR5 or Q to QR4 ; the former
would most likelj' lead only to a draw, whereas the latter holds out
good hopes for a win.

R to RG 1

This move must have liee:i overlooked \i\ White, who probably
calculated on K to B7; 51. P to R", R to K7 ; 52. QxKt(ch);
K X Q; 53. Q(Queen) (ch) and wins.

51. R to KBsq

A bad move on anj- consideration. Black's intention to double
his Rooks on the 7th tile by R to B7 and R7 is too obvious to be
overlooked, therefore the R should not have blocked in the K if

51. R to Kt sq ; then Black would probably draw by R to B7,

52. P to R7, and then either Rook to R7 should draw

R to B7

52. Q to Q8 ? QE to R7

53. Q to KtS (ch) K to B2
64. Q to R5 (ch) Kt to KtS
Resigns ?

Undoubtedly Black has conducted the ending exceedingly well
under very difficult circumstances, but although he has gained a
considerable advantage through White wasting time with his R and
Q, there was no occasion at all for White to resign immediately ;
on the contrary, he still had some good chances of playing for a
draw. We can only account for White's resignation in a m.atch-
game that he must have been under the impression that Black
could force a mate, which, however, is not the case. It is no good
playing 55. Q to B3, for Black would answer with Kt x P ! — winning.
But supposing

55. R to K sq R x P (ch)

56. K to E sq

and we sec absolutely nothing else for Black but to endeavour to
win by capturing White's KBP.

There are many other lines of play possible, most of which, how-
ever, lead to a draw. In some instances even White threatens to
win by R to QB sq; as, for instance, if Black plays R to R7 (ch),
57. K to Kt sq, R x P, 58. R to QB .sq. There is also the P on Rli,
which would aid White ; and, considering the difficulties and
chances of practical play. White's game was, as Mr. Gunsberg
pointed out, by no means hopelessly lost.

Position in the third game of the match, played May 11, 1887.

ZUKEHTOItT.
Black.

"WlHTE.

Blackbckne.

P lo Kto ?
Q to Kt4

Zukertort played

P to R3

R to K .sq 1

And Wliite must win, for he cannot be prevented from advancing
his KP.

PxP

P to Kfl P to B7

P to K7 R to K5

QxQ R X R (ch)

K to B2 Resigns

For if P (Queen's), then White plays QxQ, and wins.

Contents of No. 19.

PAGE

The story of Creation : fi Plain Ac-
count of Evolution. By E. Clodd 145
Wild Youth's Tax on Lite. By

Henrv Ward Beecher 147

Coal. By W. Mattieu Williams . . 148
Ancient .Solar Festivals. By W.

St. Chad Boseawen 150

Solutions of Puzzles 151

Our Puzzles 152

Tne Southern Skies 154

The One Scale Atlas 155

The Letter " H " in England 166

Studies with a Small Telescope .... 156

PAOB

Birth and Growth of Christianity 158

Tne Stilur<laii li'ii.ir on Beecher.. 15y
The Louisiana Lottery. By Richard

A. Proctor 1«0

The Naturalist s Lalwratory IGU

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor . . 162

Reviews 163

Our Chess Column. By "Me-

phisto" 1C.5

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs" 167

The Face of the Sky for May. By

F.R.A.S 168

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge" as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registeied aa a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. Tlie Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

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To Australia, Ne'w Zealand, &c. 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Egypt, the Subscription is 78. 6d,, as horfctofore.

July 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

193

^ILLUSTRATED J^GAZINE ^
j^!EN€E,UT£RATUtlE, & AR^

LONDON: JULY 1, 1887.

RELIGION AND THE UNKNOWN.

By Richaed A. Proctor.

Behold God is great and tee know him jiot. . . . Great tliiugs doetli
he whicli ire cannot inu/rrstand. . . . Touching the Almighty we
cann«t Jind him out. — Elihu (Jhc approied of God) in the Book of Job,
chap, xxxvii.

\\'ho hath knoirii the mind of the Lord ' — Paul (to the Romans),
chajj. si.

N a kindly notice of my essays on " The TJnknow-
mIiIc" in Knowledge, which I s;tw recently in
Wiiits's Li'i-rary thiule, the remark is made
that though I " object to the term ' agnostic '
a-s inadequately expressing my views," I am
in sympathy with those who are recognised

;is belonging to the agnostic school of thought."
I am nut sure that I have ever expressed anj- objection
against the term " agnostic," though I admit that no such
term can quit« adequately express the \-iews of a school ; but
emphatically I am in sympathy with the school called,
for convenience of reference, Agnostic. I wish here Iniefly
to show why ; ;md more particularly to point out that in all
ages and among all races true and reverent religion has
been necessarily agnostic* I have expressed this thought in
Knowledge in the words, '• A God imderstood is no God at
all." I might equally have said, with the same underlying
meaning, " A religion which may be presented in terms of
the known is no religion."

So soon as man rose above the merely animal condition
he began to be moved by the unknown and by the unknow-
able, though as yet he had no means of distinguishing one
from the other. He showed the influence of the unknown
upon his emotions by the constant effort to picture it as
known and underetood. In this eflbrt religion had its
beginning and all developments of religion had their origin.
What was nearest and simplest moved man first. The river
and the forest, the mountain and the sea, rain, wind, and
storm, representing unknown and for the child-man un-
knowable power, were early regarded as known deities,
only mysterious in their attributes as deities, in their nature
ivnd qualities, their will and purpose. Men recognised in
the very unknowableness of natural phenomena the known
fact that in these, at any rate, they might woi-ship a power
outside themselves — in other words, Deity. But as time
went on, as the life of the huntsman and the tisherman gave
place to pastoral life — nomadic ttrst, and then more settled —
and pastoral to agricultural life, the forces with which man

* With this volume of Knowledge the papers and notes on the
relations between religion and science which have appeared in
Knowledge from the time of its issue as a monthly magazine, will
be brought to a conclusion. They will probably be collected soon
in book form.

had just come into more obvious contact, the forces belong-
ing to the earth, lost in dignity and impressiveness in pre-
sence of the forces which seemed jiresent in the heavens.
The sun in his glory and his obvious might, the moon walk-
ing in splendour, the planets as they pursued

Their obvious course, now high, now low, then hid,
Progressive, retrograde, and standing still,

began to be recognised as the really mysterious powers of the
universe. These now seemed appropriate objects of worship
and adoration, because their movements and their influences
seemed inexplicjible, and being thus appai-ently unknow-
able might be regarded as assuredly divine. Men now, as
before, in what seemed certainly unknowable, found cer-
tainly known divinity. And because this way of viewing
the heavenly orbs necessarily lasted for many centuries in
every race, for thousands, nay, tens of thoustmds of years
among mankind, the worship of these mysterious di%-inities
— mysterious, yet in the verj' assurance of their mystery
regarded as demonstrably divine, affected all races wliich
passed beyond a certain stage, to the very heart's core.
No matter what advance might sub.sequentlj- be made, no
race has ever us a race, shaken ofi" that long established
religion which had the dome of the heavens for its temple,
the visible orbs of heaven for its deities. In the temples
of today, among Jews, Mohammedans, Christians, and
Buddhists — anxiously though the teachera of these religious
bodies have ende;ivoured to get rid of nature-worship — the
ceremonial observances relating to the heavenly bodies
remain. Our temples now bear to the great temple of the
sky the same sort of relation wliich the Lady Chapels of the
Middle Ages bore to the great cathedral beneath whose roof
they found a place.

In the worship of the heavenly bodies, there was the
worshij) of the unknown, and, as was thought, the unknow-
able. So soon as the movements of these bodies were
known and could be predicted they ceased to retain their
position as deities, except for the ignorant, who, however,
were the many, as they have ever been. Here began, as the
ignorant supposed, a contest between science and religion.
Science attacked religion, as they understood religion, in the
very fact that science endeavoured to explain what, so long
as it was believed to be inexplicable, men could worship.
Science destroyed the significance and value of their
sacrificial system so soon as science learned to predict that
at such and such a time the sun would rise again, the moon
which had waned would refill her orb, the sim as God of the
year would ascend, after his spring passover, to the full
glory of the midsummer heavens. Men cannot worship the
vernal equinox or the sun's right ascension, as they had
worshipped the sun-god at his passover, or after he had
ascended to the mid heaven. The " Nautical Almanac "
cannot replace the greater and the lesser prophets ;
nor can tabular announcements of sunrise and sunset,
of the moon's quarters, or of the equinoxes and the
solstices, take the place of the morning and evening .sacri-
fices, the '• blowing of the trumpet in the new moons," the
Feasts of the Pa,ssover and of Tabernacles, or the Fast of
the Atonement for the waning of the sun-god. Observation
has displaced observance, study has displaced reverence, i-o
far as the religion of the heavenly orbs has been concerned.
There was in a sense a long-lasting conflict between science
and religion, as knowledge displaced nescience, and men
found that what they had deemed an inexplicable mysterj —
the veritable unknowable — could be interpreted and under-
stood. But it was because the worship of the heavenly
bodies was no true relijnon that conflict arose with srrowinj;
science, and that grown science slew the religion which was
based on false conceptions.

194

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

So loug as religion attempts to deal with the unknown
as the absolute unknowable, and fixes its domain within the
mi>;taken limit thus drawn, conflicts must ever be renewed
with growing science, and the event of such conflicts must
be ever the same. When religion ceases to proclaim that
" Deity is here, or It is there," and admits that the force lying
at the back of all phenomena, Absolutely Unknowable
Power, can alone be accepted as the truly divine mystery of
the universe, then and then only the advance of science will
become (as it should be) a matter of no moment so far as
religion is concerned. When men pictured Hell as the
lower story, Heaven as the top story, of a world whereof
the middle story was the earth, science, in showing the earth
to be a mere point in space, was shaking the very founda-
tions of i-eligion. But that was because religion was based
on falseh'-assamed knowledge. If science is shaking the
foundations of religion now, it can only be for a similar
reason. True religion has no more occasion to fear science
than che infinite has occasion to fear astronomy.

THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM.

By Richard A. Proctor.

EW things perplex me more than the fanciful
way in which the general public take up
some matters of scientific interest and
neglect others. Although my real work
lies in scientific study rather than in the
exposition of scientific matters, I am con-
siderably interested in studying the man-
ner of thought of those whose avocations
are for the most jjart unscientific. And repeatedly I have
been surprised, not to say disappointed, by the lax attention
of the public in regard to matters which to the student of
science appear intensely interesting, and the earnestness,
almost enthusiasm, with which the same public will consider
matters relating, indeed, to science, but in which the student
of science will hardly consent to take any interest at all, so
trivial are they, or uncertain, or unfruitful.

Amongst the matters about which I have received the
greatest number of inquiries I may mention specially what
the unscientific choose to call the Star of Bethlehem. I am
not referring now to the celestial appearance recorded as
seen in the East at the time of the Nativity — a subject
already dealt with fully in these columns. I am considering
a certain new star seen in the year 1.572, which persons
iguoi'ant of astronomy insist on chilling, without a shadow
of real reason, tlie Star of Bethlehem. I know not to whom
the honour of inventing this ridiculous title for the .star
should be assigned. Probably one those semi-religious, but
wholly ignorant fanatics, who look to the heavens for signs
and portents relating to the aflairs of men, and imagine that
the fires which are presently (they assert) to destroy this
sinful earth will come straight down on us from the celestial
canopy over our heads, conceived the brilliant idea. But,
whoever first thought of it, the idea has been received with
enthusiasm by kindred minds ; and such minds being much
more numerous than minds more reasonable, the notion is
found knocking about all over the world, in companj- with
an amount of ignorance about even the elements of astro-
nomy which is truly distressing in its bewildering com-
pleteness.

The latest development of the preposterous notion that a
remote variable sun in Cassiopeia, probably at least a million
times further from us than our own sun, is the same orb
which led the astrologers of Chaldea first to Jerusalem, and
then, after disappearing for a time, from Jerusalem to

Bethlehem (an eight miles' walk) has now been announced.
A " piofessor " — bless us I — of Hartford, Ky., has actually
seen the new star in Cassiopeia, close by the point overhead,
a little towards the noi'th. Astronomers will be more
startled by the position assigned to Cassiopeia than by the
discovery of a new star in that well-known constellation.
Any one could look at Cassiopeia and imagine — being igno-
rant— that some perfectly well-known star in that constella-
tion is a new one. In fact, this Kentucky " professor," by
remarking that there are five bright stars in Cassiopeia,
" and two or three others," shows clearly enough what
oddly incoiTect ideas he has about the array of stars in that
compact but tolerably rich constellation. What is really
stupendous in his achievement, is not his .seeing a new star
in Cassiopeia, but his seeing Cassiopeia in a new place.
Could Cassiopeia be seen at night in the middle of j\lay
towards the zenith, most assuredly the discovery would
merit most serious attention. For such a portent would
imply much more serious trouble than the appearance of a
whole legion of new stars. An old constellation (and
Cassiopeia is very old) appearing in a new place, would
imply very serious terrestrial disturbance. If the astro,
nomei's we pay to keep track of time b^- close survey of the
stars — our Government astronomers, I mean — had to report
Cassiopeia now as in the zenith, at any time between night-
fall and morning twilight — matters would look unpleasant
indeed. Old earth would have to wobble from her true
position in fearful fashion to bring about such a portentous
phenomenon as that ; for, as a mere matter of fact, Cassio-
peia ought at midnight in May to be nearer the horizon
than the point overhead. It has been suggested that the
miracle of the .standing still of the sun can only be explained,
for modern science, by the staying of the earth's rotation
during a cei'tain interval, the earth resuming her steady
spin when the Jews had done their fighting; to which the
sceptical crew who are always suggesting troublesome doubts,
have objected that if the earth stopped rotating, every
earthly thing would have been destroyed by the shock, and
consumed immediately afterwards by the tremendous heat
instantly generated. But this would be nothing compared
with the significance of the Kentuckian professor's miracle.
For this would requu-e not merely such a trifle as that the
earth's spin should be stopped and presently started afresh,
but that the actual position of the polai- axis should be
afl'ected.

The question aiises whether we may not reject the
Kentuckian's miracle, even though his amiouncemeut is
prophetically worded. When we road in '■ King Solomon's
Mines " of a solar eclipse which remained total for half an
hour, to say nothing of its occuning a day after the moon
had been fall, which again occurred a day after the
moon had been " new," we do not feel bound to accept the
series of miraculous phenomena as the theologian accepts the
standing still of the sun and moon for the accommodation of
Jewish fighting folk. May we not in like manner suppose
that the professor of Kentucky has made a trifling misUike 1
To put the matter plainlv, may we not transfer our wonder
from the details of his sensational announcement to the
blafcmcy of his remarkable ignorance.

To speak seriously, the Kentuckian jn'ofessor, in his holy
zeal to be the first to proclaim the appearance of the Star of
Bethlehem, has permitted himself the pri^-ilege of untruth.
Doubtle.ss he was, and is quite, certain that the star is due
this current year ; doubtless also he imagined that the star
may begin to be visible to very keen eyesight some time
before it becomes obvious to all. If the star really has a
message for mankind, as no doubt the Kentuckian professor
supposes, a man must be doing good service to the world
who gets beforehand with the star and starts the message a

July 1, 1887.]

KNOW^LEDGE ♦

195

little sooner than the star could manage it. Picture the
professor's state of mind with these ideas possessing him,
and that perfect freedom of imagination which comes from
sheer ignorance. How axn he possibly c;irry out his idea
better than by telling the world he has seen what Tycho
Brahe actually saw 'i He turns, therefore, to the oft-
repeated narrative of the discovery of the new star in 1.572.
Tycho Brahe saw the star in Cassiopeia ; there, then, must
the Kentuckian professor see it. Tjxho Brahe saw the star
near the zenith, so that Cassiopeia manifestly lodges over-
head ; there, then, our professor must see her. In unfor-
tunate ignorance of the fact that a constellation which is
near the zenith in November (Tycho Brahe first saw the
star on November 11) is bound to be a long way from the
zenith in May, our Kentuckian prophet saw C;vssiopeia
overhead, when she was really near the horizon ; saw a
new star where no new star existed, and — to speak in the
language of the profane- developed a series of untruths
until all outside was azure. Mr. Lockyer's achievement in
telling little learners where the stars which pass overhead
in London rise and set — stars which never come within a
score of moon-breadths of the horizon — was nothing to the
feat of this Kentuckian professor ; for Mr. Lockyer only
implied that he thought those stars might rise or set : our
Kentuckian religionist tells us he actually saw Cassiopeia
overhead, when she was in reality low down near the
horizon.

But it may be asked whether, though this particular
charlatan has not seen Tycho Brahe's star, that orb may
not soon resume the abnormal splendour with which it
shone in 1.572 and 157-!. This is possible (so many things
are possible), but the evidence which led Goodricke to sup-
pose that the star is an irregular variable, with a period
averaging 312 years, is so slight that no astronomer would
give much for the chance that Tycho Brahe's star will return
to vii-ibility this century, or perhaps for many centuries.
In Tycho Brahe's time, a Bohemian astronomer (Cyprianus
Leovitius was his highly respectable name), stated that in
an old manuscript he had found records of the appearance
of a new star between Cassiopeia and Cepheus in the year
945, and of another — or the same star — similarly situate in
1264. Even at the time much doubt was thrown over the
account of these stars, several astronomers regarding it as
probably relating to comets. But Tycho Brahe accepted
the account as relating to stars, and considered that the
object seen might possibly have been the same which blazed
out so brightly in 1572.

That is absolutely all the evidence we have 1 Assuming
the statement of Leovitius not wholU' apocryphal, as some
have not hesitated to assert that it was, we have statements
about two bodies which may have been comets, but possibly
were stars appearing in a tract of the heavens described as
between Cassiopeia and Cepheus, a tract which must be
assumed to be very broad indeed if it is to include the
place of Tycho Brahe's star, in the years 945 and 1264 — the
intervals, if these were indeed apparitions of that orb, being
319 years and 308 years. This cannot be regarded as
absolutely demonstrative evidence that Tycho Brahe's star
is a variable blazing out, like a revolving signal light, at
average intervals of 312 years, as Goodricke supposed, or
315 years, as others have suggested.

But even if, which is quite possible, the small star now
under telescopic scrutinj' for a quarter of a century because
astronomers believe it to te Tycho Brahe's should blaze out
suddenly with a lustre akin to that which it dis]>layed in
1572, we may be well assured that the display, however
interesting to astronomers and physicists, will not otherwise
be a matter of the slightest moment for the inhabitants of
this earth. To associate the idea of the systematic variation

of some remote sun with remarkable events upon this little
earth of ours, is to exhibit such an absence of all power of just
reasoning as unfortunately characterises too many among
the unscientific. It would not be possible to argue men out
of such a belief, who, by the very fact that they have enter-
tained it, have shown that sound re:isoning (in such matters)
is impossible for them. But as a mere matter of foct, the idea
is as wild in its absurdity as would be the thought that the
fortunes of a race of insects inhabiting a New Zealand tree
must be aftected by the systematic flashing out of the Eddy-
stone Signal Light on the other side of the earth.

FREAKS OF THE WIND.

By Henry J. Slack, F.G.S., F.R.M.S.

;VTURE often exhibits on a small scale
actions which on a large one produce enor-
mous eSects. Thus when a heavy shower
sweeps along the sand and gravel of a
garden-path we have a miniature representa-
tion of what great floods do in transporting
boulders and drift; and when tiny runnels
cut a zigzag way through soft soil, being easily deflected
by small obstacles, we have a copy of the way large rivers
flow. With winds it is the same. The strong gales and
cyclones which tear up trees, overthrow houses, and over-
whelm ships, are sometimes represented by small aerial
disturbances of a size that can be conveniently studied. The
writer on one occasion, when driving home from a railway
station, saw in front of him a shifting sand column about
twenty feet high, small at the bottom and widening as it
went up. It moved, rotating dancingly from one side of the
road to the other, and fell to pieces as the vehicle passed
swiftly by. If it had fiillen on the travellers they would
have been unpleasantly dusted, but innocent as its small
power would have made it, as an illustration of the great
du.st-storms of the deserts it was better than any picture,
because it was all alive with characteristic motion.

On a March day of the present year in South Devon a
brisk strong wind from the north-cast gave for many hours
what may be called miniature rehearsals of the curious
gyrations often performed with terrible consequences on a
grand scale by wind and sea. The scene was on the top of
the Down of Babbicombe, where in front of some terraces,
and across a road of common width, is a long strip of grass
constituting a favourite promenade, as it commands an ex-
tensive curving line of clifis and shores of all colours, from
crimson miirl to pearly marble, yellow sand, and white
chalk. In fact, it is the view of the coast ftom Oddi-
combe to Portland Bill. The wind came across some
miles of sea. Part of its current may have rushed up the
rocky clifis, about 270 feet high ; another part probably
came straight to the gras.sy plain, and the two may have
conflicted. Also some rebounding currents may have come
back from the row of houses.

What happened was exhibited by sundry pieces of paper,
small biscuit bags, and other reminders that light refresh-
ments had been taken on the spot. The same pieces of
paper were made to perform all day in a space of some
thirty or forty yards long, and half that width. Moreover,
they never mounted high in the air. Any one would
have thought that a strong bja.'^t from north-east would at
once have carried them ofl' south west, but it did nothing of the
kind. A glance at the pennon on an adjacent flagstaff showed
the wind generally true to its north-east line of approach,
but it went all ways on the grass. Frequently pieces of
paper, of about the stime size and shape, and only a few

196

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

feet apart, were carrietl simultaneously in opioosite direc-
tions. Sometimes two or more piece-> went round in circles ;
at others, two of tlie biggest hopped rapidly about each
other like lively birds at play, but none rose many feet from
the ground. It frequently happened that the velocities of
their movements varied considerably beyond what could
have resulted from impacts of air-currents of the same force
upon objects diflering slightly in size, weight, and shape.
It was plain that the wind moved in narrow streams, vary-
ing in velocity, so that objects a few feet apart received
blows of very did'erent force.

I cannot remember distinctly enough for exact reference
where I saw an account of experiments which illustrated
this behaviour of a wind-storm. So far as I can recollect,
screens of small dimensions were placed in line, and so
arranged as to record the force of the wind impact. The
result showed that the air-curi-ents struck the screens much
as if a quantity of balls, big and little, had been hurled at
them.

Storms of very limited breadth are known to be of
common occurrence, and while disastrous damage has been
done to trees and buildings within a few yards of each other,
adjacent objects have had no .strain put upon them. What
the wind at Babbicombe did was to imitate over and over
again this sort of action on a minute scale.

Probably in all violent cyclones it is a mere chance whether
any of the usual anemometers happen to receive and indicate
the extreme force with which some part of a much larger
object would be struck. Some years ago a storm of small
breadth in its most violent part overthrew my observatory,
made of wood strengthened with T iron and covered with
stout canvas, while no damage was done to trees a few yards
off. An anemometer near the trees would not have indi-
cated anything like the force which lifted up and cariied
forward the observatory.

It would be well worth while to erect in some situation
exposed to storm-winds a screen representing a section of a
house or bridge, and arranged like the one mentioned, in
registering comjiartments. We might thus obtain a better
idea of the forms and the forces of wind currents, and of the
resisting power requii'ed for safety.

FORCE AND ENERGY.

ALTHOUGH so frequently used by scientific
and unscientific writers, the words " force "
and " energy " are constantly confounded.
I find many misinterpreting, on this account,
passages in which the words are used. It
may, theiefore, be worth while to indicate
the sense in which these words are to be
understood in accordance with the meanings now definitely
assigned to them in scientific writing. They should, in
reality, be no more confounded as thus used than gravity
and heat — gravity is, indeed, a form of force, and heat a form
of energy. Force is any cause by which motion is produced
or modified. A force in thus moving or modifying motion
does work. The work stored up, as it were, in a body,
through the action of a force upon it, is called enen/i/. If I
throw a stone into the air I exert force upon it ; the velocity
I communicate to it lepresents the work done upon it, and
this velocity possessed by the body, at the moment when it
leaves my hand, lopresents the energy of the mass which,
before I threw it, had been inert. The energy possessed by
the body may seem to vary, and actually does vary, but not
quite so much as it appears to. It varies because owing
to the resistance of the air the enei'gy of the body is
continually being diminished ; but the energy thus lost by

the body is transmitted to the air. But the further loss of
velocity on account of the earth's attraction retarding the
velocity of the body which had originally been thrown
upwai'ds, is not a loss of energy, for the change of place
involves a corresponding increase of what may be called
energy of position, and this velocity will be presently
restored as the attraction of the earth draws the stone down
again. In imparting velocity to the stone, again, I was not
inci-easing the stock of energy in the universe ; for by what-
ever ujjward action I drove the stone from the earth, I
correspondingly (regard being had to the relative mass)
urged my own body towards the earth, depriving my body of
just as much energy of position as corresponded with the
energy I imparted to the stone. Energy is, in fact, akin in
one respect to mass — it may be taken from or imparted to
a body, or from a system, or imparted thereto ; but its
totality can never be altered, any more than the total amount
of matter in the universe can be altered.

It has been stated that with regard to these words
" force " and " energy " science has no settled usage, but
there is no foundation whatever for this statement. The use of
the words has long been definitely fixed in scientific treatises.
Those unfamiliar with mathematical and physical science
are very apt to misuse both words, as also to substitute for
one or other words which have no such definite scientific use
— as power, might, influence, and so forth. But ahiisus noii
lollit usum, the abuse of anything, as Guy Mannering puts
it, doth not abrogate the lawful use thereof.

Probably the confusion wliich has arisen among outsiders
respecting these two words " force " and " energy " has been
caused in great part by the varying inter-relations of force
and energy as cause and ell'ect at one time, effect and cause at
another, though, indeed, one ought rather to say that they
appear at one time as following and antecedent, at another as
antecedent and following, respectively. Yet, in reality, we
must regard energy as the true antecedent, seeing that in its
fullest sense energy is (as defined by Rankine) the capacity
to effect changes. When force is exerted, energy, as we
have said above, is stored up somewhere in precise propor-
tion to the exerted force : but that force was itself the
jjroduct of pre-existing eneigy. Nor do we ever recognise
force which has not in some way been generated by the
exertion of some form of energy, though, as in the case of
the attiaction of gravity, we may be unable to say what
that form of energy was, or how it may have been exerted.

Doubting Faith. — Of old it was held to be a dangerous
thing to inquire too closely into the nature and origin of the
earth on which we live. Men might inquire, though only
with caution, into the natural processes taking place around
them ; into the growth of plants and animals ; or into the
origin of winds, rivers, and other such phenomena. It was
not held, for example, to be an obvious sign of Atheistic
tendencies to di.scuss the development of a tree from the
seed, or to trace the progi-ess of a river from its source.
But a warning voice was heard .so soon as inquiries were
pushed a little farther. If observant men, for instance,
were led to examine the formation of a river-valley, and
thence to inquire under what forces that valley had assumed
its present form, they were told that they were pushing
their queries Ijeyond the verge of what man was suflered to
understand. Worthy people in those days seem to have
laboured under a continual fear of discovering too much, of
coming unexpectedly upon the operation of a first cause.
They seem to have felt that as Mo.ses took off his .shoes
when he ajiproached the bush, so it behoved them to proceed
cautiously and as with unshod feet, lest unwarily they
should light on evidence of the direct action of the Creiitor's
fashioning hand.

July 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LKDGE ♦

19^

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAT IX For JUNE. JULY. AXD AUliU^^T.

THE NiOHT Skies in the Southern Hemisphere (Lat. 46' to 21» S.)

AND THE
SOUTHERN SKIES IN ENGLAND (0PPER HALF OF MAP ONLY) AT THE FOLLOWING TIMES

At 1 o'clock, morning, July 7.
„ 12.30 „ „ Jul.V !■*■

',', Midnight, July 26.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, Aug. 3.

At 11 o'clock, night, Aug. 7.
„ 10.30 „ „ Aug. 14.

„ U Aug. 22.

„ ;>.30 „ ,. Aug. 29.

At 9 o'clock, night, Sept. 6.

„ 8.30 „ ,. Sept. 14.

„ 8 „ „ Sept. 21.

■ „ 7.30 „ „ Sept. 29.

First .

Second .

Star Magnitudes.
Third . . . . ♦

Fourth

Fiftli

198

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

Chart foe Great Circle Sailing.
Showing moi-o than thirty great circle tracks and illustrating the constructions for one case— Cape Town (o Melbourne.

By EicH.\ED A. Proctor.

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

199

DCABTER OF THE SOUTHERN CHART On the Same Projection (and on the
same scale), showing fourteen iUu-stratiTe great circle tracks in the >orth
Atlantic, obtained by the same method. [L and K mark the points where
the steamships from Queenstown and from Bordeaux respectively cross tbe
Newfoundland Bank.]

HOW TO USE THE CHART

I To find the great circle course between two places, A and B.
Describe a circle through A, B, and a the ant.pode of A (or

through A, B, and h the antipode of B) ; it will pass through h (or a)
and be the t/reat circle required.

II To tiiid the rcnSra or highest latitude reached.
A straight line through the pole and the centre of ABba cuts this

great circle in t/ir /riff /test latitude point required.

III To find the bearing at any point of the course.
The course cuts the Meridians at angles shoirinff t/ie true hearing

IV To find the composite course between A and B, touching lat. I.
With radius equal to half the distance, across pole on chart

between north-latitude I and south-latitude /, describe arcs through
A and B touching lat.Z; these arcs, and part of lat. paraUel (0
between them, make up t/ie composite course reqmred.

V To find the great-circle distance between A and B.
Find « the pole of the great circle course (90° in lat. from vertex),

and centres D and F of great circles through A^^ and Bp; then tJu-
great circle course A B contaiM as many degrees as t/iere are m t/io
supplemeut of DpF, eac/i degree containing GO geograp/acal ''"te.

Note.— If a ship is driven from her course, as from L to 0, the
great circle course from C (as CA) is found by I.
Example.

To find T., the great circle course ; II., its rertc.x ; III., the hearing
(at an,/ point); IV., the comjwsite courte (lat. .50); and V the rfj^-
tance ;' from Cape Town A (antipode «), to MeUmirne B (antipode b).

I. Find C, the centre of circle through A, B, a, b, and describe,
round C, t/ie required great circle course AVB.

II TbroughP.C, draw PCdV, giving the w'rfra.V.

III. Draw compass-card N-E-W-S about 0,NS meridional, then
OT tangent to course, shows the bearing at 0.

Note.— Angle EOT = angle NOC.

IV. Bisect w' Gat- 50 N & S) in G ; about P describe arc cGc ;
with radius Gt- and centre on fc', desc. arcs AH, BK ; AHVJiB is
the reqmred composite course. . t • i

T Take p on PV, 90'' from V ; find D, the centre of a circle
throucrh A,p, and a ; and F, the centre of a circle through B,/», and
b- AVB contains as manq degrees as t/ie supplement of t/ieaTii^lc
DpF By measurement with a protractor, AVB contains 92^', cor-
responding to 5,565 geog. miles. True distance 5,5GGi geog. mUes
(587 geog. miles less than Mercator's course).

CHARTS FOR GREAT CIRCLE SAILING.*

SHOWING AT ON'CE THE GREAT CIRCLE TRACK, THE
COMPASS BEARING AT EACH POINT, AND THE DIS-
TANCE ; ALSO THE "COMPOSITE COURSE" TOUCHING
ANT GIVEN LATITUDE.

By Richahd A. Phoctor.

5S1HE shortest distance between any two points
on a globe is the lesser are of the great
circle passing through them (a great circle
on a sphere being one whose plane passes
through the sphere's centre). But the sea-
man, in passing from port to port on the
earth, generally follows what is called a
rhumb lim — such a track that he has the same compass
course (apart from magnetic variation) throughout his jour-
ney. Mercator's projection, on ^\hich the charts of the
world in our books of geography are drawn (I mean thoi-e
charts which show the whole world), was invented to help
the sailor in marking his true rhumb course from port to
port, this course being shown in Mercator's charts as a
straight line. In long journeys, however, especially such as
are made hi the southern hemisphere, the rhumb course is
far longer than tlie gi-eat circle course. For instance, frora
Cape Town to ISIelbourne the course on a rhumb line is 587
miles longer than the course on the arc of a great circle.
Even in such a journey as from Queenstown to New York
(where, however, the great circle track is broken by the
Newfoundland shores, and two arcs have to be combined)
there is a considerable saving of distance in following the
great circle route. Moreover, for sailing vessels tacking
against adverse winds the saving is far gi-eater. In tacking
along a rhumb course, sailing as close to the wind as she
can, a .^ailing vessel is often actually increasing her distance
from her haven. In passing from the English Channel to
New York, on a rhumb course, against adverse winds, a
sailing vessel tacks over 7,360 miles ; but taking the great
cu-cle course, the distance traversed in all her tacks would
be only 6.490 miles, a saving of 870 miles, or five or six
days' sailing for a craft of medium speed I On some of the
long South Sea journeys, where the difference in miles be-
tween the rhumb course and the great circle course may be
seven or eight hundred miles, the actual difference of dis-
tance traversed in tacking against adverse winds would
amount to two or three thousand miles !

My present object is to show how charts may be made
which will be as convenient for great circle sailing as Mer-
cator's charts are for sailing on a rhumb line.

Two difliculties have checked the extension of the sy.stem
of <n-eat circle sailing. In the first place, a process of calcu-
lation has to be gone through to determine even the proper
frst course for great circle sailing, that is, the bearing at
the port of departure; and a fresh ftilculatiou has to be
made for a succession of points— usually taken five degiees
in longitude apart— along the gi-eat cu-cle course. Secondly,
it often happens that the true great circle course would
carry a ship into inconveniently high latitudes.

To meet the first difiiculty, various methods have been
from time to time suggested for obtaining graphically the
gi-eat circle course. Sii- George Airy invented a most
ingenious but unfortunately a complicated construction
for drawing the great circle course on a Mercator's chait.
Mr. Hush Godfrav, the author of the Cambridge text-book
on the Lunar Theoi v, suggested the use of the gnomonic
projection, where the" great circle course is represented by a
straight line, just as the rhumb course is represented on a

* This article is mainly a reprint from the Scientific American,
from whose pages the illustrations have been reduced.

200

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

Mercator's chart ; and varioiis approximative constructions
have been suggested from time to time.

To meet the second difficulty, Mr. Towson, of Liverpool,
suggested composite saihng, by which a great circle course is
taken from the port of departure to touch the highest lati-
tude deemed safe, and another great circle course is taken
which, touching that highest latitude, passes through the
port of arrival ; the journey pursued is along the former
great circle course to the limiting latitude-parallel, then
along this parallel till the second great circle course is
reached, and thence along the latter great circle course to
the desired haven. Mr. Towson published also a valuable
series of tables for t'lcilitating the calculation of the compo-
.site course from port to port. The Eev. George Fisher,
chaplain of the Greenwich naval schools, devised a graphic
method for approximating to the composite cour.se on a
Mercator's chart.

These methods of calculation and of construction have
not come into general use. It has been found impossible to
introduce the general use of great circle sailing as hampered
by these requirements, especially in the case of sailing vessels,
where fresh calculations or constructions, by no means
simple, would have to be made whenever a ship had been
driven out of her course by stress of weather.

A chart on which the great circle course between any two
points can be at once laid down would obviate these olyec-
tions. And at first sight it seems as though Mr. Godfray's
proposition met this want ; for, as I have said, the gi'eat
circle course on a gnomonic cliart is a .straight line. But
,a gnomonic chart cannot show even a full hemisphere.
The point of projection is .at the centre of the sphere, as
shown at O, Fig. 1, the projection being made on a tangent

a

P

b

I

/X\

/b\

7

\

plane as oPi. Supposing one of the poles to be at P, the
centre of the pi'ojection, the points A and B would be pro-
jected at a and h rcspectivelj'. The points D and E could
not be projected on the plane «.Pi at all. The scale of tlie
cliart increases rapidly from P outward, becoming infinite
for points 90 degrees from P. The projection then, though
it might serve for ports in one hemisphere, is evidently not
available generally. Moreover, the gnomonic projection
would not indicate the bearing (anywhere on the course), the
vertex, or the distance.

Instead of this practically useless method of constructing
charts for great circle sailing, I propose the use of the stereo-
graphic projection, whereby (I) the construction for mark-
ing in the great circle course between any two points is
made exceedingly simple ; (2) the whole course is obtained
at once; (3) the " bearing" at each point of the course is
shown as plainly as the bearing of the I'humb course on a
ISIercator's chart; (4) the " composite course" where wanted
Ciin be obtained by a simple construction ; and (5) the dis-
tance fi'om point to point can be easily determined.

I need not here discuss the principles of the stereo-
graphic projection at any length. I will simply note those
points which make the projection convenient for the pro-
posed purpose.

In the stereographic projection of the s|)hore, the point of
projection 0, Fig. 2, is on the surface of the sphere, at the

extremity of a diameter PCO, through P, the centre of
projection. Thus if d P _/" represent the tangent plane
through P, the points A and B on the sphere would be pro-
jected on d P /"at a and //, where OA and OB produced
meet d P /" If D and E are OO degrees from P (as in

a

<J

P b

e

T

\

nX

7\

/y

^

\ ^

/ /r y^

^

FlC. j\ ^

\

/ /yj^

Fig. 1), their projections fall on d P./ at d and c. A point
as P, still nearer to 0, will be projected on the tangent
plane as aty.

If P be either pole, the projection of the sphere on the
plane d Vf is a very simple matter ; for all the meridians are
projected into straight lines through P, and all the latitude-
pai'allels into circles around P as centre. The radii of these
circles can be obtained by construction, as shown in Fig. 2.
But in practice it is far better to use their known lengths
as indicated in trigonometrical tables. Thus if PI! is an arc
of 60°, we know that the angle POB contains 30° ; so that
P /* is equal to PO tan. 30°. Thus, for the parallels correspond-
ing to latitudes 8.')°, 80°, 7-5°, and so on, we take from the
trigonometrical tables the natui'al tangents of 2J,°, 5°, 7i°,
and so on ; and the.se numbei's, with any convenient unit of
length, give \is the radii of the circles we are to describe
round P. For inst.anco, if we wish the equator to have a
radius P c (equal to PO) five inches in length, we di'aw a
line five inches long, divide it into ten equal parts, and one
of these again into ten parts (or preferalily make a plotting
scale for the smaller divisions) ; then regarding one of the
tenths of the line, i.fi., one-half an inch, as our imit, we
take, for our successive radii, lines having the following
lengths :

For Latitude S."")" 0437 which is the tang, of 1],°
„ 80° 0-87.') „ ' .5°

'■'° i-sn „ 7J,°

and so on. Then a series of radial lines drawn to divisions
5° apart round any one of these circles give the meridians,
and complete our projection. The chart should have out-
lines of continents, islands, &c., marked in, for convenience,
though in reality this is not essential, because the longitudes
and latitudes of ports, Ac, are alone really needed lor deter-
mining the great circle course, and the course obtained by
the simple constructions I shall indicate could always be
plotted in on the Mercator's chart, to whose use seamen are
more accustomed than to that of any other kind of chart.

The properties of the stereographic projection, which
enable us at once to project a great circle course, and to
determine bearings, distances, kc, on a stereographic chart,
are the following :

(«) Every circle on the sphere, great or small, is projected
into a circle.

(6) All angles, bearings, kc, on the sphere are correctly
presented in the projection (a property found also in Mer-
cator's projection).

With these properties I combine the following properties
of great circles on the sphere :

(1) Since every diameter of a great circle is a diameter
of the sphere, each point on a great circle is antipodal to
another point on the same circle ; or, in other words, if a

July 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE

201

great circle passes through any poiut, it passes also through
the antipodes of that point.

(2) If a great circle touches a small circle on the sphere,
it touches also the small circle antipodal to the former : for
instance, if a great circle touches latitude-parallel 30° north,
it touches also latitude-parallel 30° south. This needs no
demonstration, being really a corollary of 1 ; for the point in
which the great cii'cle touches one small circle has for its
antipode a corresponding point on the antipodal small circle,
and also, by 1, on the great circle : and there can be no other
point in which the great circle meets the antipodal small
circle ; for if there were, then, by 1, there would be corre-
sponding points of contact or of intersection with the
original small circle, which by our hypothesis is not the
case.

To use the charts, however, the sejiman need not concern
himself either with the method of constructing them or with
the principles on which their use in gi'eat circle sailing de-
pends. All he need care for is rightly to apply the con-
structions which result from these principles.

I propose to indicate only what are the processes neces-
sary for the five following problems :

I. To find the great circle course between any two points,
as A and B, Fig. 3.

II. To find the vertex, Y, or highest latitude reached, on
that course.

III. To find the bearing at any point, as Q, on the
course.

IT. To find the composite course, from port to port, touch-
ing any given limiting latitude.

V. To find the di'^tance, A V B, to be traversed.

Tlie constructions for these five problems are all included
in the following simple statements (P, Fig. 3, is the pole.

e'EE' the equator), the italicised parts indicating the actual
constructions, the rest giving the reasons and demonstra-
tions :

I. Find on the chart a and h the antipodes of A and B
(which of course is easy, as we have only to takeoff 180° on
the meridians A P nr, B P 6, not shown in the figure to
avoid crowding) ; then a circle throiigh any three of the points
A, a, B, b, is a <jreat circk of the sphere hy 1, and must pass
through the fourth point. Describe such a circle A B a b ;
A V B is the gnat circle course required. [It will be best to
take the three points A, B, and b, A being the point of de-
parture. Pencil the bisecting-perpendiculars to 6B, AB (not
shown in Fig. 3), inter.secting in C, around which point as
a centre describe in pencil the circle AB6. Note whether
it passes through a, for this serves as a test of the accuracy
of the result. You may also note whether the points e'
and E', in which it cuts the equator, are, as they should be,
on the extremities of a diameter through P ; for two great
circles on a sphere necessarily intersect on a diameter of the
sphere, and therefore, as P Ls the projection of the pole of

the equator, two such points of intersection must lie on a
straight line through P.]

II. A straight line vPOV, through P and C, cuts the great
circle course in V, the vertex required, Y l)eing the highest
latitude on one side of the equator, v that on the other. [V
does not necessarily fall on the actual great circle coui-se
between two points. For instance, QB is the gi-eat circle
course from Q to B, but Y lies outside QB.]

III. Draw QT, tan^/ent to the coiirse, at Q. Then the
angle PQT gives the bearing of the course at Q from the due
northerly direction QP. By obser^■ing that QT is at right
angles to CQ, we can get the bearing without actually draw-
ing QT. Thus in the case illustrated in the figure, the
dii'ection QT is north of due east by an angle equal to CQP,
e;isily measured with a protractor.

lY. Suppose A YB, Fig. 4, the great circle course, to have
its vertex Yin inconveniently or dangerously high latitudes.
Let L on PY be the highest latitude vhich the ship must
reach. Tale I, antipodal to L; then if we bisect I L, in G,
and describe round P as centre the circle c G c', it is obvious
that any circle having its centre on c G c', and radius
equal to GL or G I, will touch both the latitude-parallels

HLK and klh ; and, by 2, will be a great circle. Therefore,
around A and B, as centres, with radiiis GL, describe circles
cutting c G c', in c and c' , and with c and c' a.s centres and
the same raditis describe circular arcs, AH, BK, tou<:hing
the latitude-parallel HLK in H and K. Then AHKB is
the composite co'nrse required. The distances along AH and
BK can be determined by the method shown in the suc-
ceeding section, and the distance along the latitude-parallel
HLK is of course easily determined, being an arc of a known
number of degrees in a known latitude.

Y. [\Ye have to determine how many degrees there are
in the arc AYB, not as it appears in the chart, but as it
really is on the sphere.] Take p, 90 d_egrees of l/ititude from
V and V, Fig. 3, along «PV. (This of course is done at
once on the chart, which shows the degrees of latitude from
the pole P.) Then p is the pole of AYB. Find D, the
centre of the great circle A p, and F, the centre of the great
circle B p. (This we do b}' I. ; but most of the work is
already done. We have the bLsecting-perpendicular to B 6 ;
the bisecting-perpendicular to A a pa.sses through C ; then
the bisecting-perpendiculars to A p, ;' B, give us — by their
intersections with those to A « and B b — D and F at
once.) What we want is to determine the angle A p B,
between the arcs A /?, /> B ; and it is obvious that this is the
supplement of the angle D p F, which is easily measured
W'ith a protractor. The number of degrees, multiplied by 60,
gives the number of geographical miles, or knots, in the
distance AYB.

An example of these methods is given in the accompanying

202

♦ KNO\ArLEDGE

[July 1, 1887.

stereogi'aphic chart, whore the same letters are used as in
Figs. 3 and i.

[By a singular coincidence the distance actually determined
by my construction for the gi-eat circle course from Cape
Town to Melbourne was 5,567 miles, the nearest result in
whole numbers to the distance determined by calculation,
viz., 5,566f miles. But having obtained the angle 92° 47',
I did not consider anything closer than 92|° could fairly be
used, giving the distance 5,565 miles (very close for a deter-
mination of this sort).

Tlie distance between Cape Town and Melbourne on a
rhumb course is 6,154 miles, or 587 miles lomjer than the
great circk course /]

The illustrative chart shows, on a small scale, my northern
chart on the plan described. It has been carefully drawn,
with meridians and parallels ten degrees apart correctly
placed. The distortion is great outside the equator, but
not greater than for high latitudes in Mercator's chart;
nor does distortion at all affect the utility of such charts.
(The stereographic and Mercator's projections are alike in
showing small regions with little distortion.) More than
thirty great circle-paths are shown, but of course the charts
which I have had prepai'ed for sailors' use (under Mr. E.
Stanford's supervision) are without paths of this sort, the
object of the charts being to enable the seaman to lay down
without trouble the track he has to pursue in order to tra-
verse the shortest distance from any port whatever, or from
any point he may have reached on his journey, to any
haven.

The north pole being in this chart the centre of projection,
the northern regions are on a relatively small scale. Thus,
the few great circle tracks shown on the Atlantic are not so
well presented as the tracks in the southern seas, or from
the northern to the southern hemisphere. The meridians
and parallels of the chart serve, however, equally well for a
map of which the south pole would be the centre. I have
had a second chart prepared on this plan (the distortion
affects Asia and North America very curiously), and the
smaller map (a quarter of the chart) shows the North
Atlantic as presented in this chart, the projection and scale
being the same as for the larger chart. Although my laige
northern chart would suffice without any supplementary
southern chart, yet the southern scale adds greatly to the
completeness of the work. Moreover, by applying rule I.
for pencilling the course on both charts, and comparing the
results (which ought to agree, of course, exactly) the seaman
will escape all possibility of any error, however slight,
and will find his confidence in the accuracy of the method
strengthened, should he, by chance, be unable to understand
the mathematical reasoning on which the method is ba-sed.

THE VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS CHARTED.

By Richard A. Proctor.

|0 illustrate at once the convenience of the
one-scale maps now appearing monthly in
Knowledge, and the advantage of great-
circle routes across the ocean, 1 give a map
(No. 1) on the same projection in which the
routes followed by Columbus across the
Atl.intic have been laid down for com-
parison with the corresponding great circle I'outes. The
map also shows th3 shortest routes between several places
in Europe and America, together with the rhumb coiu'se
between Queenstown and New York (the course indicated
as the shortest in Mercator's charts, but really not so).
On Friday, August 3, 1492, Columbus, in command of a

squadron consisting of the Santa Maria (a decked vessel)
and his flag ship, the Pinta, and the Xina, set sail from
Huelva on his first journey across the Atlantic in search of
a westerly route to " far Cathay." In the same year a globe
was made at Nuremberg, from which the accompanying map
(No. II.) has been formed. By compai-ing it with map I.,
which is in fact a chart of the North Atlantic, some notion
can be formed of the ideas which were entertained by the
most experienced geographers in the days of Columbus
about the unknown Western Seas. About as far west from
Europe as the shores of the United States really lie, we
find Cathay, a small island, and Cipangu, a larger one,
doing duty, but most inefliciently, .and far from their proper
latitudes, for China and Japan. What island it may be, to
which Sieur Brandan came in the year 565, it would be
difficult to detei'mine ; but neither Behem nor anyone else
in those days had clear notions about the distances traversed
by voyagers who reported shores they had sighted. How-
ever, this island was reported to have been seen by tra-
vellers sailing south-west from the Cape Verde Islands, and
is therefore probably altogether mythical.

On August 9 Columbus sighted the Canaries. It was not,
however, till September 6 that the squadron sailed from
Gomera, nor till Sunday, September 9, that the heights of
Ferro, the most westward of the Canaries, faded from view.
On September 13, about six hundred miles due west of
Ferro, Columbus noticed the variation of the needle, five or
.six degrees eastwards of true north,* a deviation which in-
creased as he proceeded.

On September 14 the voyagers saw a heron and a tropical
bird which they regarded as harbingers of land ; but, on the
following night, they were alarmed bj' a meteor, which they
held to be ominous. Columbus explained the meteor
after the simple manner of his time, when science under-
stood everything ; Irving, however, condescendingly remarks
that these objects are common in warm climates, a statement
about as instructive as though he had said that planets are
peculiar to the subtropical skies. On September 20 the
wind, hitherto from the east, veered to the south-west, and
they altered their course (when in about 40° west longitude)
slightly northwards. Sever.al birds, regarded as denizens of
the land, visited the ships, and next day the squadron reached
the Sargasso, or great seaweed bed, which they endeavoured
to avoid. On the 25th the wind again became favoui'able,
and for several days thereafter they sailed steadily south-
westwards, taking an almost due westerly course on Sep-
tember 30. On October 6 Martin Pinzon, commander of
the Pinta, proposed that they should stand more to the
southward, and in the evening of October 7 Columbus
altered the course very slightly southwards, being then in
about west longitude 65° from Greenwich. For three days
they stood in this direction, the signs of land becoming
more and more frequent. The crews, however, regarded
these signs as meant to lure them to destruction ; and
Columbus, who had hitherto kept his men in good spirits
by gentle words and promises of reward, was compelled for
the first time to adopt a sterner demeanour. This was on
Wednesday, October 10. On the 11th the signs of land
became unmistakable. It was at about ten, on the night of
Thursday, October 11, that Columbus saw a light glimmer-
ing at a great distance, wliich he showed to Pedro Guiterrez,
" gentleman of the king's bedchambei-," whatever dignity

* Washington Irving says the needle pointed to the north-west,
but that is wrong : what Columbus found was that the true north lay
to the west of the point indicated as north by the magnetic needle ;
probably Irving was misled by the circumstance that now the
needle points west of north at the place where Columbus first dis-
covered its deviation. The magnetic pole was considerably east of
the latitude of Greenwich in the year 1492.

July 1, 1887.]

KNOW^LEDGE

203

that may imply. At two on the morning of Friday,
October 12, a gun from the Pinta announced that land
had actually been sighted; and in the morning a level
island was seen, several leagues in extent, and covered with
trees like one great orchard. The inhabitants could be seen

ing St. Domingo, Columbus sailed for home on January 16,
149.3. But it was not in tlie Santa Maria that he made the
return journey. She had been lost through the negligence
of a boy left in charge of her, and Cohimbus transferred his
flag to the JVlna, in which, after narrowly escaping destruc-

Map I.

issuing from all parts of the woods, and running down to the
shore.

This island, still called San Salvador, as named by
Columbus, is also called Cat Island, after the lass euphonious
and dignified name which the English masters of the
Bahamas have thought appropriate. The light seen by
Columbus was probably on Watling Lsland, which lies a few
miles to the east.

After voyaging about among the Bahamas, and discover-

tion during a great storm, he finally reached the harbour of
Palos, on March 15, 1493, having been alisent seven and a
half months.

The map shows how much his journey to San Salvador
might have been shortened had he known how the land lay.
For in maps on this projection the great-circle or shortest
courses from place to place are represented very nearly by
straight lines, as the meridians show (wliich are all great
circles) ; and it is only necessary to compare the actuftl

20i

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

length of the track followed by Columbus from Huelva to
San Salvador with the shortest route shown — running across
the easternmost of the Azores — to see how far Columbus
went out of his way.

But apart from any trustworthy information as to the posi-
tion of Cathay, Columbus might, with a little knowledge of
the propertiesof the sphere, have recognised that his shortest
course to the East Indies, as pictured in the maps of his
dav, required him to run as far northwards as the course
marked in Map I. from Cape St. Vincent to St. Augustine,
Florida. By following such a course he would have been
brought, after rounding the Azores on the north, to more
southerly latitudes, and finally into the latitudes of the

Tart op a Terrestrui. Globb,

made at Nuremberg

lu lire year 149--.
bv Martin Si:ftc.\

Trinidad, so named by him because of a great triple moun-
tain on the island. The fourth journey took him to the
South Caribbee Islands, and, again passing into the Carib-
bean Sea, he reached the mainland near Cape Honduras ;
butOjeda had reached the mainland of South America (pro-
bably Surinam) in 1499, nearly three years earlier.

It will interest the reader to compare together the various
tracks across the Atlantic shown in ]\Iap I., all of which,
except the rhumb course from Queenstown to New York,
are the shortest routes between the places they connect.

The map has been drawn specially, however, to illustrate
a little work on America which I am now preparing. It
will be observed that only the thirteen States which pro-
claimed their- independence more than a century since, and
being chiefly of British blood most manfully maintained their
independence and established it, are shown on the westward
side of the map. The area which our British colonies then
occupied can be recognised at a glance, and compared with
the area of Great Britain and Ireland on a map such as
this, whereas no ordinary atlas conveys clear ideas on this
point. We see also, what no map hitherto drawn has I
tliink properly shown, not only the relative areas of the
home country and its colonies, but, properly represented to
scale, the distances separating the Britons at home from
their kinsmen across the Atlantic. Buf for this convenient
remoteness, our gallant fellow-countrymen on the other side
of the Atlantic might haply have had to wait for a genera-
tion or two longer before they were able successfully to get
rid of the blundering sway of the crazed German George III.,
supported by a large but silly section of the folk at home.

Map II.

Canaries, somewhere in west longitude 85° — befoie reaching
which, however, he would have fetched the shore of Florida.
The other outward journeys made by Columbus were not
less cu'cuitous. The student of Washington Irving's Life of
Columbus will find it interesting to follow these journeys on
such a projection as Map I., or, even better to mark it in,
as shown from day to day on Mercator's charts, on the map
of the Atlantic at page 106, where the currents of that
ocean are also shown. In the second journey Columbus,
after first discovering the North Caribbee Islands, passed
within the Caribbean Sea, and discovered Jamaica and Cuba.
On the third journey he would doubtless have discovered
the mainland of South America, had not provisions run
short, compelling him to take a more northerly course for
the region where he knew land lay. He thus reached

ORIGIN OF LANGUAGES.

MONG the curiosities of the science of our day

■A chief place must be assigned to the evidence

which has been obtained from the study of

language in regard to the past history of

various races. If we consider the crude

attempt made by a Semitic race to interpret

the variety of human methods of speech,

and contrast that quaint story of the drspersion of man

with the conclusions resulting from the careful study of the

evidence given by languages themselves, we find something

truly marvellous in the progress men have been able to make

in dealing with the mystery of language. The story of

Babel is like giving up the riddle ; the results already obtained

by philologists seem by comparison like a complete answer,

though in reality they bring before us difficulties greater far

than those they remove. In this, however, the study of

language resembles all other study. All knowledge really

worth anything increases our consciousness of ignorance.

It is from language alone we know that the Indians and
the Persians are nearer of kin to us than the Jews or Syrians,
for the beginnings of all four races are lost in a remote
antiquity. But the connection between the Indian language
(even in its ancient form as Sanskrit) and modern languages
of the Teutonic fomily is not obvious until the rules for
making compr.rison are recognised. For instance, one would
hardly suppose that the relationship between the Sanskrit
vrkas and our English " wolf " could be shown to be
demonstrably real, or in fact more than the merest guess.
Yet this relationship is only one of a set, and when we take
the same word in various Indo-European languages, we find
that the law of the connection shows itself even on the
strength of this one word alone, though, of com-se, for com-
plete demonstration other words associated in the .same way
have to be considered. Thus we have: —

July 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE

205

Sanskrit vrkas Old Bulgarian vlukir.

Greek lukos Gothic vulfs.

Latin lupus Old High")

Lithuanian ...«ji/^«s German |

widf.

Even the connection between Greek and English is by no
means obvious till the law of kindred is pointed out. The
connection between pater and father is indeed easily recog-
nised ; but one does not at once see how dika and ten are
connected, yet nothing is more certain than that tlie.se two
words not only mean the same number, but mean it in the
same way. To trace the connection we have to go back to
the Gothic taihiin or two hands, from which our '■ ten " is
unquestionably derived. But even taihun differs slightly
from tUka. We notice further, however, the Latin decern,
the relationship of which to the Greek dSka is certain (though
affected by our mode of mispronouncing the Latin "c").
Now, the Teutonic " h " was the equivalent of the Greek
and Latin k or c, as horn for cornu shows, or the
Gothic hu7id for canis, or iiuha for duco (or, conversely,
garden for hortus^=(3tveek chortos). So that we recognise in
decern and deka words indicating two hands, as, indeed, the
" ten " in any language is bound to do. The word " ten " is
fully as much altered from the original two-han or taihun, as
decern from duo and ken, or hen, which last root we recognise
only in its compounds, pre.hendo, comprehend o, &c. — the old
verb hendo, to grasp with the hand, having early disappeared
from the Latin. Of course, in ca7iis we have the idea of
grasping just as we have in our English hound, the connec-
tion of which word with /land is undoubted. In passing
we may note the connection between prixe and //and, which
seems at first sight incredible, but properly looked at is
obvious, being simply shown by the series, prixe, jirise (Fr.),
prendre, preliendo, henden, hand.

One might cite, again, the connection between the Greek
pente and the English Jive. At first sight there seems no
connection at all. But between the old Greek pempe (as in
Homer) and the Gothic /7'»i/' the connection is clear enough ;
and no one can doubt that omv jive is derived from the early
Teutonic _/!"my'. In the Latin we have quinque, q replacing
p, instead of /, as in the Gothic. But qu was simply a
strongly gutturalised w sound, as in old Scottish.

One of the strangest traces of the old language from which
all the Indo-European or Aryan languages were derived,- is
found in our auxiliary forms, ivere, wert, corresponding to
the German werden ; for, going back, we find in Anglo-
Saxon weorlhan, in Old High German luerdan, in Gothic
vairthan — that is, we find the root forms weorth, werd,
vairtlt — while in Latin we have vertere (root vert) and
in Sanskrit vrt (the exact vowel sound before the r un-
known).

All this has been brought to my thoughts by the idea of a
new universal language — a sort of correction of the Babel
mistake, so far as the language of commerce, at least, is
concerned. This new language has cost its inventor,
M. Schleyer, of Constance, no less than twenty years'
labour ; but it can be learned in eight lessons (he says).
Supposing all nations accept it, and all men engaged in
business take their eight lessons, this pleasing language
will occupy the same sort of position the world over which
" pigeon English " now occupies in China. Its vocabulary is
a miscellaneous gathering from many languages, English
claiming a goodly share. All its words are monosyllables.
Time is iim in Volapuk, as the new language is cheerfully
called ; stone is st07i, and smoke is sniok. So far all is easy,
we seem to have been speaking Volapuk all the time, with-
out knowing it. But alas, wisdom is sap (verhum sap) ;
pain is dol, and a river is flum, all which words are
objectionable to English ears. Then the monosyllables are

put together into words suggestive of worse than Babel.
Thus we are told to believe that Liko stadols is a suitable
way of saying, " How are you 1 " and Glidi sol a proper
expression for " Good day, sir."

Judging from the history of former attempts in the same
direction, Volapuk is not likely to come very soon into
general use.

It is interesting to observe how language illustrates the
past development of races. We may find no material
records of the spread of a race over the earth's surface, and
yet be as certain from the evidence of language that the race
has occupied such and such regions as if we found the
remains of buildings they had erected, or of works of various
kinds which they had executed. We can in this way find
also in language some evidence as to the part of the earth
from which the Indo-European races originally spread. It
would seem that the Aryan Indians of Lower India came
from the Punjaub, and earlier still our Indo-European
ancestors appear to have occupied the Highlands of Central
Asia to the west of Itelurtag and Mustag.

THE GREAT LICK TELESCOPE.*

By Richard A. Proctor.

HE time draws near when science will learn
how much the gieat Lick Telescope, perched
on its exceeding high " mountain," may be
expected to reveal. The expectations of
tSS /i^'W the world outside science are also " exceed-
feifeH»-|-i ;; ing high," especially in America, and still
more especially in the far West. Yet we
have had some disappointing experiences during the past
ten or twelve years, which .should lead us to limit our
expectations in regard to the achievements of very large
telescopes. Those recently made seem to have hitherto
proved too much for the observers employed to use them ;
at any rate, observers very active in discovery when employ-
ing smaller telescopes, have done little when set to work
with these larger ones, so that grave fears have been aroused
lest science may have been the loser, instead of being, as had
been hoped, very greatly the gainer, through the construction
and erection of these powerful telescopes.

There can be no doubt that theoietically a large telescope
is capable of doing better work than a small one. Not only
are the space-penetrating and illuminating powers of large
telescopes greater, but their defining powers are also better,
even when their magnifying jjowers are not pushed to their
full range. A close double star, for example, which an
8-inch telescope shows as two disks touching or overlapping
each other, will appear with the same jiower applied to an
18-inch telescope as two well-defined disks, clearly separated
from each other. Increase the power in each telescope, and
whereas in the former no separation is effected, with the
larger the dark space between the disks is correspondingly
widened. Let the smaller telescope even be the most perfect
work of Alvan Clarke and his skilfully co-operative son.s,
while the larger is perhaps the work of only a second-rate
optician, yet will the larger attest its superiorit}' in the same
decisive way. All the skill even of the Clarkes would not
enable an 8 inch telescope to separate double stars lying
within a certain degree of i)roxiniity which a 1. '5-inch or
18-inch telescope would re.solve quite easily. And mani-
festly, when we consider that every object examined with a
telescope consists of multitudes of points whose aggregate

* From the J\'W» y'ork World.

206

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

forms the image of the object, we see that the defining
powers as indicated in the study of close double stars, must
determine also the comparative powers of telescopes in show-
ing the details of the surfaces of sun, moon, planets, comets,
and star clouds.

There can be no doubt whatever of the potential value
of very large telescopes. If we could estimate the value of a
telescope simply, without regarding the man at the small
end of it (stay : with reflecting telescope we find him some-
times at the large end), we could have no doulit as to the
desirability of settmg our C'larkes and Grubbs and the rest
of them making the largest telescopes money can buy. But
if we are to judge by the experience of the last twelve or
fifteen years, we must infer that very large telescopes may
fail in actual service, even as the great two-handed swords
of the Swiss failed in the hands of warriors effectively skilful
in the use of less unwieldy weapons. {Teste Arthur Phillip-
son in " Anne of Geienstein.")

The first example which occurs to me is that of an
esteemed friend of mine in England. Nothing could have
been more admirable than the way in which he worked
alike with telescope and spectroscope, and with both com-
bined, when he possessed only an eight-inch telescope.
Every one expected that when a convertible fifteen and
eighteen-inch telescope was placed at his disposal by the
Royal Society he would effect correspondingly enhanced
achievements in the way of discoveiy and research. But
all the work done by him with the large telescope during
the last twelve years is much more than outweighed by his
work in 1864 alone with the small one.

In America examples are more numerous simply because
a much greater number of large telescopes has been erected
here. (Newall's and Buckingham's large telescopes in
England were such utter failures that one is moved by pity
not to touch on their achievements — at least, one would be
if there were any achievements to touch on.) Tliere was
the great telescope at Chicago, an 18-inch of Alvan Clarke's
best workmanship. Beyond enabling Burnham to test the
value of the double-star observations he had made with a
much smaller instrument, this splendid telescope has done
nothing. A treatise on astronomy which mentioned nothing
discovered with the gi'eat Chicago telescope, or with the
equally large telescope set up at Charlottesville, near
Richmond, would be certainly none the worse for the
omission.

One cannot say this of the great telescope at Washington,
because no treatise on astronomy would be complete which
did not mention the two moons — if moons they should be
called — of the planet once called by Tennyson the " moon-
less Mars." Undoubtedly the discovery of these two bodies
was an interesting achievement. Their very minuteness,
though detracting from their importance, adds to theii*
interest, and also of course made their discovery more
difficult. They may not be moons in the sense in which
such oi'bs as our own moon and the moons of Jupiter are
so called ; for the two together would probably make but
about one-milHonth part of our own moon's volume. But
they have enabled astronomers to correct their measure of
Mars's mass, and they have suggested most instructive
thoughts as to the probable processes by which the Martian
S3-stem was formed. The great telescope at Washington
will always be honourably remembered and Professor Hall
always gratefully mentioned in connection with the dis-
covery of these tiny bodies. Yet, regarded as a telescopic
achievement, this sole work of the great 2G-inch telescope
(except two or three fairly good drawings of Saturn by
Trouvelot, some mediocre pictures of Jupiter and an
" atrocity " by Mr. E. S. Holden, claiming to represent
the great nebula in Orion) can hardly be esteemed impres-

sive. It would have been very discreditable if the moons
of Mars had escaped discovery by an instrument which, it
now appears, has ten times the light-gathering power neces-
sary to show them even under much less favoui-able con-
ditions than existed in August 1877, when they were
discovered. True, many very powerful telescopes which
ought to have discovered the Martian moons, had been
turned on Mars without showing them. Had the Wash-
ington telescope failed, as used by Professor Hall, tlie
discredit of the failure would have had to be so widely
shared that it would not have amounted to much. True,
also, that there is nothing new in the recognition of different
objects with small telescopes after they have been discovered
by large ones, and when the observer knows just where to
look for them. (My friend Mr. Ward, of Belfast, can
actually see two of the moons of Uranus with a 4-inch
telescope.) But neither circumstance can take away from
the fact that both the moons of Mars were easily within
range of the great telescope at Washington when discovered,
and that they could only be missed through such careless-
ness of survey as unfortunately had been usual in all former
search for Martian satellites.

Probably Professor Hall would be the last to compare his
discovery of these two bodies with William Herschel's dis-
covery of two moons of Uranus, reniembering how in his
own case a splendid telescope had been constructed for the
work by the ablest opticians living, whereas Herschel made
his own telescope, while also — a circumstance not dwelt on
quite so much, I think, as it should have been — Herschel had
not only made the telescope with which he discovered the
moons of a remote planet, but had begun the work by first
discovering the planet itself on which those moons attend.

I do not care to dwell on the most striking example (in
America) of the disappointment apt to result from the con-
struction of .a very large telescope for use by an astronomer
who has achieved important success with a small one. It
has been my special pleasure to dwell on the successes of
American astronomers. These even now do not receive
nearly the amount of attention in the old country that they
merit, and are often treated most unfairly, as in the case of
the admirable work of the astronomer whose loss science
still feels — my valued friend, the late Dr. Henry Draper.
American astronomical researches were scarcely noticed at
all- in England till I directed special attention to them, inso-
much that an eminent English man of science, somewhat
exaggerating, once spoke of me as having " discovered
American astronomy " for my fellow-countrymen. It would
therefore not be agreeable to me to dwell on disappointments
in a case where my own expectations and the hopes of
American men of science had been highest. But it is
certain that what I have said of our ablest telespectroscopist
in England may be matched — and I fear more than matched
— by what might be said of the ablest telespectroscopist in
America. With a telescope of tenfold greater power he has
achieved less in the last ten years * than in any one of the
ten years or so preceding them.

When I am asked, then, what science may hope or expect
from the great telescope of the Lick Observatory, I feel con-
strained to reply that, judging from recent experiences, we
can hardly expect aught but disappointment, though we may
hope (" hope springs eternal in the human breast ") for
better things. Let science comfort herself with the thought
that at least no Young or Huggins will be expended vainly,
judging from present appearances, in the attempt to make
the big telescope a great success. This at any rate is some-
thing, though it would count for more if some despotic

* The telescope has only been actually at work about six years,
it seems.

July 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

207

friend of science could take away from these most able
observers their big playthings and send them back to the
smaller instruments with which thev did such noble work.

THE JAPANESE MAGIC MIRROR.

Bt J. Parnell, F.R.A.S.

THIXK I can give Dr. Hutchinson the informa-
tion he requu-es, as I investigated the matter
more than twenty years ago, and had the good
fortune to arrive at a satisfactoiy result. If
Dr. Hutchinson will examine his mirror care-
fully he will, I think, find that it is not
absolutely plane, but more or less convex, and
the phenomenon in question is due to the fact that the por-
tion of the surface behind which is a raised figure is, if not
plane, at least flatter than the rest of the mirror. Con-
sequently when a parallel beam of light, such as comes from
the sun, is reflected by the mirror on to a screen the general
convex surface will dLsperse the light more than the plane
portions, which in consequence will appear on the screen as
bright fignres. I arrived at this result by a careful examina-
tion of the distortions produced in the image of a luminous
globe as viewed in the mirror, and the result was published
in 1866 in Thf Reader (since extinct); and afterwards, in
July 1877, finding that the explanation above given was not
generally known, I republished in Xature the substance of
the previous communication. Subsequently, and I presume
independently, in December 1878, Messrs. Ayrton and Perry
arrived at the same lesult, and read a paper thereon at the
Royal Society.

CRICKET AND BASE-BALL.*

By Richard A. Proctor.

EW base-ball players know much about
cricket ; few cricketers know much about
base-ball. I am not one of those who
know much about both games ; yet I know
more about base-ball than most cricketers
do. I have watched many games at it,
and three of my sons have played at it
during two or three years, in such sort as
to be able to explain the points of the games I have watched
and to tell me of a number of details which otherwise I
should have known nothing about. In regard to cricket
I have always been an enthusiast, and until this year, when
the List available spot at St. Joseph was built over, I have
played at the game whenever I had the chance. On the
whole, it seems to me I am rather better qualified than
most pereons to talk about the two games, especially about
those points of comparison on which I am about chiefly to
touch, which depend on .scientific principles of which few
professional cricketers or ba.^e-ball playei-s would be apt to
know much. It happens, rather oddly, that during the past
Septembei- 1886 an article of mine has appeared in the
London Titiifs on these .--pecial points of comparison, an
article entitled " The Break at Ciicket and the Curve at
Biise-ball,"and I suppose that it was within less than a week
of the appeai-ance of this article in London that Key and
Buckland, the English cricketera (one a leading batsman,
the other a clever bowler), watched a base-ball game at

* From the St. Louis Globe Bcmorrat (October 31, 1886). The
article is given in full, so that English readers may note whether
my description ot cricket, for comparison with base-ball, is correct
or not.

Philadelphia, and subsequently tested the bafiling effects of
Fothergill's pitching.

That was not, however, by any means the first time that
English cricketers had appeared on the base-ball field. A
quarter of a century ago, when Parr and Cafiyn brought
over a first-class English eleven to America, long before the
Australians had acquired the skill which recently enabled
them to face on fully equal terms the best players in
England (for it was Caflyn who, visiting Australia later,
stayed there and taught young England to beat his mother).
After the Englishmen had won their last cricket victory,
they took part in a base-ball game in which, though they
did fairly well, they found the Americans fixr their superiors.
I question, however, whether the pitching of a quarter of a
century ago would bear comparison with that which is now
regarded as essential in first-class base ball.

At any rate the English cricketers said nothing when
they reached home about the various curves, which per-
plexed Key and Buckland at Philadelphia; and I cannot
but think that if they had recognised these curves they
would not only have spoken about them, but would have
tried to bring them into effective action in bowling at cricket,
as Buckland, I understand, thinks of doing.

Cricket then, as now, needed some new devices in the
bowling department, seeing that already the bat was begin-
ning to get the better of the ball. Formerly an innings
of over 100 runs was thought excellent; but anything
under 200 runs in first-class matches is now regarded as
un.satisfactory ; and we hear from time to time in matches
not far from first-class, of a single member of an eleven at
cricket making more than 400 runs off his own bat. (Such
numbers as these serve of themselves to suggest to those
who know only of base-ball and nothing about cricket, that
the two games must be entirely diflerent in character, as
indeed they are.)

A few remarks on the essential features of cricket will
not be out of place, then, in such an article as this, appear-
ing in St. Louis, where I am given to underst;ind they do
not need any particular information about the game of base-
ball— though I shall presently have a point or two to notice
about base-ball which may be new to some even in the home
of the champions of the world.

Cricket is essentially a game of attack and defence. A
wicket formed of three upright stitmps, with two cross-bars
or " bails " at the top, is bowled at by a member of one
eleven, while a member of the opposite eleven defends it
with a bat. In the game as usually played now, though
formerly single-wicket games were common enough, there
are two wickets set twenty-two yards apart, each defended
by a batsman ; and after a series of four balls, called an
" over," have been aimed by a bowler at one wicket, another
bowler proceeds to trundle four balls at the other wicket.
(It is hardly necessary to say that only one ball is used
throughout, but the act of bowling is called delivering " a
ball.") The bowler, then, attacks while the batsman defends
the wicket. If the bowler can hit the u icket, or even touch
it so lightly as to bring down one of the bails — the merest
gi-aze will generally do this — the batsman is out, and mu.st
be replaced by another. If, however, the batsman can
strike away the ball in such sort that he and the other bat
can exchange wickets before the ball is sent in again, that
counts as a run. As many times as they c;tn exchange
wickets, each running across from wicket to wicket, so
many runs do they count. They may run in this way even
though the batsman has not touched the ball, if it is missed
by both the wicket-keeper (corresponding in some degree to
the catcher at base-ball) and by his backer-up, called the
long-stop. Xay, a run is often stolen when the long-stop
has not mi.-sed the ball, if he is slow in sending it in, and

208

KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

the batsman can get across the twenty-two yards in time.
Such runs are called byes. But all luns are made at the
batsmen's proper peril. If a wicket is put down while the
batsman nearest to that wicket is outside his ground (a
small space close to the wicket) the batsman is out. So a
batsman is out if the ball is caught from his stroke before
touching the ground, or if in trying to defend his wicket he
.strikes it with the bat, even though he may but shake off
a bail.

There is yet another way in which a batsman may be put
out, and some of the prettiest play at cricket arises in con-
nection with it. The process is called stumping out. In
playing at a ball the batsman may get outside his ground ;
should the wicket-keeper in such a case receive the ball and
with it knock off a liail before the batsman can put his foot
or ground his bat inside the line which marks his ground,
the batsman is out. A good wicket-keeper is as valuable at
cricket as a good catcher at base-ball. The feats occasionally
accomplished behind the wicket are little short of marvellous.
To give an evidence of the neatness with which stumping is
sometimes effected, take the following case : (it must be
understood that nothing but the sharpest action will do the
trick at all, because the moment the batsman finds the ball
has passed him he puts his bat down within his ground like
a shot). On one occasion. Box, a fiimous wicket-keeper of
the generation before last, took a ball which had passed the
bat, hit up a bail with it, caught the bail in the other hand,
replaced it, and left it, all so sharply that the first intimation
the batsman had of his fate was that conveyed by the
umpire's reply, " Out," to the customarj- query from Box,
" How's that, umpire? " All had been accomplished in the
mere instant of time following the batsman's failure to hit
the ball, and not only before he had time to put his bat
down within his ground, but before he could even look
round.

What I have said is about all that is necessary to enable
one who has never seen a game at cricket to understand the
nature of the game. The bowlers attack the two wickets
alternately ; the batsmen defend and endeavour to make as
many runs as they can ; the wicket-keeper and long-stops
stand behind the attacked wicket, and the remaining players
on the attacking side are placed at various points to catch
the ball if possible,* or to intercept it, or (failing either) to
go after it, and return it quam celerrime. As batsman after
batsman succumbs, the place of the fallen is taken by
another, till at last ten of the eleven have been put out,
when, since it takes two players to defend the pair of
wickets, the eleven are all out, and their opponents in turn
take their innings. Two innings, neither more nor less, on
both sides constitute a game, though, of course, both innings
on one side may be beaten by a single innings on the other,
in which case only three are played.

And here I take it is the weak point of cricket. A great
match is always arranged for three days' play : but on the
one hand three days may not suffice for the game to be
played out, in which case it ends in a draw, even though one
side has manifestly the worst of it, or, on the other hand,

* There was a song about cricket, in which I often took part, in
the good old days of Hullah, wherein we all chorused lustily
(Hullahing, so to speak) —

The-en run, boys, run I

Sta-art ev'ry one,

To-o catch the ball

Befo-o-ore it fall !

He's out. The game is e-e-e-euded.

And we the game have wo-o-o-o-on.

And we tje game have won.
liut the captain of a team of fielders does not, as a general rule,
insist on every one running to catch the ball; even two would be
one too many.

the game may be finished in two days, or even in one, in
which case the balance of the time assigned to the match is
lost. To give an idea of the annoyance often occasioned in
one or other of these ways, I note that of forty games
played by the Australian eleven in England last season,
seventeen only were played to a finish (several of these
lasting only two days), no less than twenty-three being
drawn. (Of the seventeen games, the Australians won
nine and lost eight, but as the two leading English counties
lost only three games and five games, respectivel)", of those
they played during the season, it will be understood that
the Australians were by no means so successful last season
as they have been aforetime.) I long since proposed a very
simple and eftective remedy for this serious fault, from
which base-ball is altogether free. I suggested that instead
of playing out a whole side at each innings, the sides should
go in alternately as man fell after man alternately on either
side. In this wa)' the contest could be continued through-
out the whole time appointed for the match, with the
certainty that neither would any game end in a draw
(except in the natural way of equal play) nor would any
time be cut to waste in any match.

Cricket being thus different in its very essence from base-
ball, which is not a game of defence, all the details are
natiirally different in character. The very shape of the bats
used in the two games indicates the difference between them.
The cricket-bat is essentially a guarding bat ; the base-ball
bat, though most ludicrously pictured in Harper's edition of
Charles Bead's " Hard Cash " in the hands of a cricketer,
and held nearly as a cricketer holds his bat when waiting
for the attack, is altogether unsuited for defence. In like
manner the cricket-bat would be utterly unsuited for such
strokes as the base-ball player requires to make. One of
the funniest things to a cricketer's eye is to see a base-ball
player striking with a cricket-bat ; but, I imagine, it must
be at least as funny to a base-ball player to see a cricketer,
even one of the most expert, handling a base-ball club.
Ustim non Jiabeo, both one and the other might say with
David in the Vulgate (imagine Latin as the \'ulgar tongue) ;
but either might say more. The kind of stroke given in
base-ball would be the worst possible form at cricket ; so
much I know, and I can guess pretty well what a base- ball
player would think of the attitude in which a cricketer is
expected to await the attack. " Play with an upright bat,"
says our rule, and " keep the left shoulder well forward " —
how would that look at base-ball ?

I am often asked (generally by cricketers) in which of the
two games, cricket and base-ball, there is the most science.
Nothing, I apprehend, but practical and long-continued
experience in both games would enable any one to reply to
that question ; and very few have had that double expe-
rience. The cricketer who knows of the different forms of
stroke by which the various devices of the bowler can be
defeated and the fielders eluded, who recognises the beauty
of the " cut " and the " draw," the attractiveness of the
" forward drive " to " on " or to " ofl'," and of the swiping
" stroke to leg," the neatness of the " snick through the
slips," the quaintness of the " .stroke under the leg " (now
seldom seen, by the way), when, looking on at a game of
base-ball, he sees forward strokes within a limited angle to
right and left, alone effective for base making, naturally
imagines that there is much less science in base-ball hitting.
The base-ball player, on the other hand, noting what seems
to him the cramped position of the batsman at cincket, the
frequency of "blocking" (that is, merely stopping the ball,
or putting it away for safety), especially when the finest
players are at work, is equally apt to conclude that cricket
is a very inferior game. I remember watching the last
three-quarters of an hour of the second day's play between

JuTA- 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

209

the Australian eleven and Nottingham, our crack cricketing
county, in 188i, when the most perfect display of all-round
cricketing science was aflbrded that has perhaps been ever
witnessed ; and during the whole of that time not only were
no big hits made — very likely that would happen in a base-
ball match — but no player was got out, no progress made
on either side. Every ball was sent down so dead on the
wicket, so craftily pitched, so deftly twisted, that the bats-
men dared take no liljerties ; every stroke was so skilfully
directed, .so nicely timed, so well adjusted, that the fielders
got no chances. It was the perfection of cricket, but — it
was a tritle monotonous.

If it is difficult to compare the batting science in the two
games, it is almost impossible to weigh the relative merits
of bowling at cricket and pitching at base-ball. Here, in-
deed, neither side can doubt the scientihe nature of the art.
The cricketer, though he never bowls curves, can see that
the curve is a beautiful feature of base-ball pitching ; and
the pitcher, though he never sends a ball which touches
ground between himself and the batsman, recognises that in
a game where this is not only allowed, but essential,
there is room for as much science as in billiards, where all
the peculiarities in the motion of the ball arise from contact
with the cloth.

The three game« may, indeed, in this respect be ranged in
order, though the science of all three be neai'ly equal. The
base-ball does not touch ground at all, and none of the com-
ple.Kities of movement resulting from contact with a solid
surface affect its motion ; but the cuiving derived from con-
tact with air is a most delicate and difficult scientific pro-
blem. The cricket-ball touches the turf once only (in good
bowling) on its way to the batsman ; but a delicixte problem
in dynamics is involved in the consideration of the effect
arising from the momentary contact of a twisting ball with
the ground. And lastly, in billiards, the ball touches the
cloth all the time, with etTects arising from the constant
variation of velocity alike of advanced rotation, which
suggest the most delicate and difficult dynamical problems.
Possibly ci'icket, in its intermediate position, supplies the
finest opportimities of all three games ; for the bowler might
cause the ball to cur\c in the air as well as to twist from
the ground ; .and this, in<leed, is what lluckland, the English
amateur bowler, is said to intend to try next season. But
as yet certainlj' nothing has been done in this way. It will
be a matter of curious interest to note whether anything
comes from the lessons in curving given to an Eiiglisli
bowler of great skill at Phil.adelphia last month, liy a crack
American pitcher. (I trust, by the way, this word " crack "
Ls in use in America, as with us, to mean first-rate. I beg
the compositor not to set it crank.)

The curving in l).ase-ball is a more difficult problem to
deal with scientifically than twisting at cricket. It is much
less easy to make experiments in curving. The effect of
twisting is very easily tested, even in (he length of a room ;
but for the curve such sharp propulsion (as well as rotation)
is required that experiments can only be made in the field.
The problem is one of the prettiest hydrodynamical pro-
blems known. (I am quite aware that the word hydro-
dynamical must here seem entirely out of place ; but in our
treatises on hj'drodynamics, fluids as well as liquids .are
considered, and the student who wishes to deal with the
curving problem scientifically mu.st turn to treatises on
hydrodynamics for the necessary formulas.) Every ball
flung through the air is in greater or less degree deflected
from the course it would have in a vacuum, whether it spins
or not. The parabolic path of a projectile is a myth so far
as projectiles in air are conceined ; and an artillerist who,
knowing the velocity of the Imll at the cannon's mouth and
knowing the angle at which the cannon is inclined, were to

calculate the place where the ball would fall on the ordinary
parabolic idea, would be out not only by a few yards, but
by hundreds, in some cases by thousands. A base-ball is
pitched sharply enough to deviate measurably from the
parabola, without any spin at all. It carries in front of it
a little cone of compressed air, which is all the time opposing
its advance with an action akin to that of a spring.

But this effect is one which the batsman would take into
account as unconsciousl)', and therefore as uniformly, as a
man does who catches a ball pitched to him from a long
distance and really travelling yards from the parabolic path ;
for the slowing of the ball on account of atmospheric
resistance takes place in a uniform way. When, however,
the ball is pitched with a sjiin which carries one side of its
advancing face forward and the other back, the cone of com-
pres.sed air in front is no longer symmetrically adjusted.
The compression is greater on the side carried forward by
the spin, and less on the side carried backward ; for on one
side the air is not able to slip past the ball so readily as on
the other, and naturally gets compressed on that side when
its passage is impeded by the friction of the spinning ball.

Now, a cushion of air, though not so hard as the ground
or as a billiard cushion, has resisting power all the same.
The ball, resisted on that side, is deflected to the other. An
odd thing in seeming, though the mathematical equations
explain it, is that the deflection does not begin from the
beginning or increase gradually, but nearly all of it seems
to take place after the ball has passed a certain distance,
varying according to the initial velocity. It is this, indeed,
which makes the curve so eflective in deluding the batsman.
The twist at cricket, as at present chiefly used, has no
tendency to cause the ball to curve in the air. One side or
other of the ball is sharply brought down, so that the axis
of rotation lies in the ball's track, and the ball begins, as it
were, to I'oll the moment it touches ground, so that though
the touch is instantaneous only, the ball is sensiljly
deflected.

<B 0 aiV*

By Eichard A. Proctor.

The article on large telescopes quoted in this month's
Knowledge from the Xfiv York fVvrkl is well meant, as
readers will notice, and I think most English students of
.science, at any i-ate, will admit that, while I have been
generous, to say the least, towards American astronomers
ever since I wrote about astronomy at all, nothing in that
article is inconsistent with what I have elsewhere written.
Yet, somehow, the publication of this article in the widely-
circulating columns of the ]Vorll has brought down upon me
a small cyclone of mixed reproaches and misrepresentation.

First, Professor Young, who assuredly has had small
reason to complain of anything I have said of his work in
the past, complains bitterly now because I have suggested
that the kind of work he is doing with the very fine telescope
placed in his hands at Princeton College, N.J. (expressly,
be it understood, that he should go ahead of his former self,
as well as of his great English rival, Mr. Huggins), is of
veiy little real value. True he has done work which he
could have done with no smaller telescope — he has measured
positions of Phobos and Deimos, those two faint satellites of
Mars, and (I believe) of Hyperion, the seventh and most
difficult satellite of Saturn, while a number of close double
stars and very minute companions have had their distances
and ])Osition-angles measured by him, or under his superin-
tendence. But when the value of all this towards the

210

♦ KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

advancement of astronomy is inquired into, neither lie nor
anyone else ain give any satisfactory answer ; while, for my
own part, I say very confidently, " These things you should
have done " — they have a sort of value —but " you should
not have left the others undone." And when 1 am gravely
told that, while as yet the spectroscopic analysis of solar
phenomena was new, everything of real interest was done
with the small telescopes which Young and Huggins then
used, and that in siich work their large telescopes could
make no effective advances, I have no answer but a smile —
which is not altogether one of amusement. Mr. Huggins,
indeed, lias done other and good work, tliough unfortunately
led off on a false scent by the hope of photographing the
corona.

Next, Professor Asaph Hall writes to me that a friend
of his at Washington told him my article denounced him in
" scathing " terms, so that he " was quite surprised to find
on reading it that, on the whole, it was fair." Yet, none
the less, he writes me a letter worded precisely as though,
instead of speaking of him in terms of high compliment, I
had indeed denounced him. And after entirely mis-reading
the article — as if I wrote expecting the discovery of other
bodies like the satellites of Jupiter and other planets like
Uranus — he asks me why, if the discovery of the satellites
of Mars with the large telescope at Washington were so
easy, "your friend Holden, who made drawings" — and very
bad ones they were — " of Mars all through the opposition
of 1875, failed to discover them ? " — which will be seen, on a
reading of what I say, to be niliU ad rem.
+ * *
Lastly, though I might mention a number of other
American astronomers who have kicked at my well-meant
flicking — being indeed more sensitive than our stolid English
workers could well conceive — does not " my friend Holden,"
as Professor Hall very naturally calls him (for when he
introduced Hall and myself to each other at Washington
he professed suspiciously warm friendship) renew the
friendly ways of 1874 by carefully explaining at San
Francisco just what my article itself states about the real
supjriority of large telescopes, and going on to say that only
for a few " cranks " like the Wigginses and Vernors can
there be any doubt on such points 1 In other words, with
characteristic " candour," he conveys to his audience, as well
as he knows how, that I am utterly ignorant of that which
I have myself stated in the clearest terms.
* * *
The " friendliness of 1874 " to which I refer, consisted in
the deliberate but anonymous .statement in the xiflantic
Montlilij, that my first book, " Satui'n and its System " (by
which I lost what the profane would call "a pot of
money," as Messrs. Longmans know) was so profitable, and
" deservedly," he was good enough to say, that I was
tempted to write a number of other books in order to make
a large sum of money; and he went on to denounce among
other books, by name, a book which he could not possibly
have read, since it was at tliat time (though announced for
completion earlier) lying half written only in my desk.
Quite unaware of the authorship of this stuiiendously un-
veracious critique, I denounced the unknown writer in veiy
plain terms in a letter which I sent to the chief American
newspapers, several of which scathingly denounced his con-
duct in articles bearing such headings as " Di.shonest Criti-
cism," " Spiteful Reviewing," and .so forth. The unknown
critic replied, admitting his wrongdoing, but defending it in
terms suggesting that he really was not aware of its iniquity.
And then, still unaware of his identity, J. simply dechned
to accept the apology, just as any good citizen would decline

to accept the apology of a pickpocket, who, caught in the
act of abstracting a purse, explained that he ideally had
mistaken that purse for some one else's, and begged to
a])ologise, &c., &c. The letter will be found in the English
Mechanic for Deceml)er (11th, I think), 1874.
4>= * *
Alas 1 what was I to do, when I found, in 1876, who
the offender really was 1 I know what I did. I remained
silent, deadly ashamed and sorry for many a long year. But
Professor Holden has Ijrought the matter back to my recol-
lection by virtually i-enewing his offence. Nay, he has
deliberately repeated the untruth about my " Saturn," in
company with several other new untruths, which it were
wearine.'^s to specify.

* * *

He pretends to believe that I am angry with him because
he does not approve so much of my popular writing, which
has brought me a maintenance, as he pretends to approve
of my scientific writing, which might almost be said to have
cost me one. His criticism could not hurt my feelings,
since it applies to readei's and buyers of my books rather
than to me. If the public is interested by sound but simple
exposition of scientific truths, and declines to be interested
in such matter as I dealt with in " Saturn," the first edition
of " The Moon," my " Geometry of the Cycloids," and the
like, the fault is not mine, if fault there is at all. If I
have made a decent and, I think, an honest livelihood by
the explanation of scientific matters for unscientific folk, I
have had this to justify me, that in no other way could
I have continued my scientific work. I had the choice be-
tween professional but altogether unscientific work, official
scientific work (wanting in independence — and perhaps
lequiring a little jobbery — and not leaving me free for
original research), and just such work — explanation of mat-
ters scientific in lectures and books — as I have actually
done, not wholly without success. By selecting the last
course I have been able to carry on my original work, as
I hope shortly to show in a treatise on Genei'al Asti-onomy,
which will appear (in its first monthly part) next October.
Most certainly I find nothing to be concerned at, when a
man who has received large annual salaries at Washington
and elsewhere for failing to do satisfxctory work with mag-
nificent opportunities, chooses to complain that my explana-
tory books have not been so unprofitable in the pecuniary
sense as the more difficult treatises have invariably been.
* * *

What has really concerned Professor Holden has been
my being selected by the editor of the " American Cyclo-
paedia " in 1871 -75 to write the astronomy and meteoi-ology
for that book — work which he probably thought would have
better suited him.

Map VI. of the " One-Scale Atlas " will appear in the
August number, being crowded out by other maps this
month.

PalcvoUfhic Man in N.-W. Middlesex. By John Allen
Brown. (Macmillan & Co.) — From the standpoint of pre-
histoi'ic arclia'ology there is very little, if anything, new to
be added to our knowledge of man of the Drift period in
Britain. Nevertheless, every item of corroborative evidence
is welcome, and Mr. Allen Brown has done useful work in
exploiting the gravels and brick-earths of the Ealing district
in search of the stone implements which are the universal
witnesses to man's presence and primitive low culture.

July 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

211

While the interest of his book is primarily local, it wiU be
found serviceable as presenting in compendious form the
materials of our knowledge of palaeolithic man gathered
since !M. Boucher des Perthes' renowned discoveries in the
Somme Valley. The lithographs of stone tools and weapons
in use among existing savages enable the reader to deduce
what was the condition of the races which have left like
relics in N.-W. Europe.

The Ancient Cities of tlm New World. — By Desire
Charnay. Translated by J. Sonino and Helen S. Conant.
(Chapman and Hall.) — The glamour which long hung
around the ruined cities of Central America, their vast and
highly-ornamented palaces and temples, their pyramids and
statues, and the great dynasties of the Aztecs and Incas, all
invested with a mythic antiquity, has faded away before the
" dry light " thrown by sober exploration and common-sense
interpretation. The Marquis de Nadaillac's " Prehistoric
America " did good service in this direction, and although
M. Charnay ventilates questionable theoiies of " origins "
in this book, he admits their small importance. His
explorations, the means for which were supplied by France
and a wealthy American (JNIr. Lorillard), range over thirty
years, and form an extremely interesting though somewhat en-
tangled record, through M. t'harnay mixing up his adventures
as a traveller with his work as an explorer. Following earlier
theorists, he contends that the American ci^nlisations, the
relics of which are described and amply illustrated, are
comparatively modern, and due to a pre-Aztec people, the
Toltecs, who founded their empire in Mexico, and, after its
disruption, transmitted their industries and mechaniail arts
to the people who succeeded them. Comparing the ai-chi-
tectural remains and the evidences as to the modes of life
with analogous materials scattered over the East, M. Charnay
inclines to the theory of Toltec migration from Asia. But
this convenient reference of all arts and civilisation to
Oriental origin is somewhat played out : the generally
uniform mode of develojiment of I'aces that have emerged
from barbarism is fatal to precise theories of localLsation of
origin, and we may dismiss the question by advising the
reader to study and form his own conclusions from the facts
which ]\I. Charnay has narrated in a style that appears to
h.ave lost nothing in its transfer from French to English.

The Western Avernus. By Morley Roberts. (Smith,
Elder, & Co.) — We fear that this remarkably interesting
book, with its intense humanness, pathos, brightness and
beaut}^ of style, is in danger of being overlooked in the
crowd of ephemeral stuff that cumbers the reviewer's table
and the circulating libraries' counters. The author puzzles
us. Here is a refined and highly educated man, who with
dyspepsia in his body, Emerson, Virgil, and Carlyle in his
wallet, and apparently only enough money in his puree for
the voyage, makes tracks from London to Texa-s, then to
British Columbia, and finally to California, hiring himself
out as bull-puncher, navvy, dock labourer, miller — in short,
for any job to keep body and soul together; makes himself
at home by his cheery tact and good humour, whatever his
company ; tramps weary miles in search of work, sleeps in
railway trucks, and, after two years of roughing it, returns
to England, to find, we earnestly hope, a large circle of
appreciative and grateful readers of his adventurous and
thoughtful narrative.

Arcadi/ : For Better J or Worse. By Arc.vsTUS Jessopp,
D.D. (Fisher Unwin.) — The e;vrnest and sympathetic essays
which compose these sketches of the life and general condi-
tion of the East Anglian peasantry well deserve rescue from
the oblivion of the magazine in which they appeared. The
Arcady which the learned author describes with shrewd
insight, humour, and pathos, is no ideal state. The picture

is charged with shadows ; yet, on the whole, brighter than
one might expect in these days of low prices, vacant farms,
and general rush of the more able-bodied and intelligent
villagers to the towns. The book raises and discusses
temperately many economic problems, and to the treatment
of every topic Dr. Jessopp brings a well-stored and sym-
pathetic mind, which should secure his book serious atten-
tion from social reformers.

A Manual oj our Mother Tongue. By H. Marmaditke
Hewitt, M.A., LL.M., late Assistant Examiner in the
University of London, ic, &c. (London : Joseph Hughes.
1887. Price 7s. 6d.)— This work, one of " Hughes's Matri-
culation Manuals," we cordially welcome. It seems to us
to supply a want — a very diflferent thing from being written
to meet one, as so many school books profess to be. We
know of no other book that we could so cordially recommend
to students preparing for the London Examination. The
subject as treated by the examiners has always been wide
and the syllabus vague ; so that the numerous candidates
have been compelled to read widely to cover the ground, with
sei-ious results to the depth of their knowledge. The work
is evidently the product of a practised teacher. Where he
has thought compilation better than original matter or
treatment, large quotations are given and acknowledwed.
Alford, Abbott, Cobbett, Angus, Mason, Trench, and others
are authorities behind whom there is no need to go, and
their lucid exposition of principles is admirably made use of
by the author in their appropriate place. The book is well
arranged. Difierent type is used to accentuate important
lists, divisions, sections, &c., etc., and at the end of the book
are the examination-papers for the last ten years set at
London University Matriculation. Blank pages are bound
in for additional notes ; and specially to be commended are
a large number of Answered Questions upon various por-
tions of the work. These may, and doubtless will, be taken
as models by the student with advantage. We think the
book will have a good sale.

Life of Danoin. By G. T. Bettany. (Walter Scott.)—
There is nothing new in this brief sketch of the gre:it
naturalist's life and work. The man himself is not brought
vividly before us, and the book reads more like a magazine
article than a biography. But it has an especially vahiable
feature in the bibliography of Darwinism prepared by Mr.
Anderson, of the British Museum. j\Ir. Bettany's proof-
sheets have been looked over by Mr. Romanes, who therefore
endorses the author's description of him as "Darwin's
prominent disciple," and as " an undoubted authority in
mental science."

Notes of a Naturalist in South America. By John Ball,
F.R.S. (Kegan Paul, Trench, & Co.).— The modesty and
thoroughness of thLs book are what might l)e expected from
the cultured observer who gives us the record of his five
months' tour round a continent where one sees the Southern
Cross standing high in the firmament, while its scenery,
north of Terra del Fuego, with its snow-covered peaks and
huge glaciers, blended with foreground of dense forest and
luxuriant vegetation, Ls described by Mr. Ball as unlike any-
thing else in this world. Apart from much that is of special
interest to the naturalist, the book adds to our knowlodo-e of
the social and political condition of the difierent countries
visited, and has practical as well as scientific value for those
whom Mr. Ball's pleasant experiences may induce to under-
take the journey.

Through Masai Land. By Joseph Thomson, F.E.G.S.
(Sampson Low .fc Co.)— Whilst all the world is reading Mr.
Rider Haggard's African fictions, this new edition of Mr.
Thomson's African facts, as to which no " strange case " can
arise, is opportune. Young as Mr. Thomson happily still

212

♦ KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

is, the rough ajjprenticeship ^vhich he had served in explora-
tions of the great continent led to his selection as head of
the Geographical Societ}''s expedition to the land of the
ferocious Masai, and well did he justify the choice. The
story is one of unHagging interest and excitement, told with
manly simplicity, and with touches of humour which once
more belie Sydney Smith's charge of its absence in Scotch-
men. How Mr. Thomson, at starting, could hire only a
scratch crew, made up of the scum and riff-raff of Zanzibar,
which he converted by his firmness and tact into loyal and
decent men ; how that same tact carried him along his
perilous route, .save when buffaloes gored and tossed him,
and fever brought him to death's door ; how he had to play
the part of medicine-man, and with the aid of saliva, false
teeth, Eno's fruit salt, and theodolite, work wonders in
bringing rain, healing cattle, and other marvels of a
character which we must leave our readers to learn for
themselves, are all told in a book brimful of good things for
the general reader, and of valuable notes on the manners,
customs, and vague beliefs of the Masai for the anthi-opo-
logist.

Social History of the Races of Mankind, Papuo- and
Malaj/o-Mf'.lanesians. By A. Featherman. (Triibner &
Co.) — This closely-packed volume is as difficult to review as
an encyclopaedia. Dealing with the physical environment
and character, the modes of life, dress or the absence of it,
enjoyment, business, food, dwellings, government, language,
birth, wedding and death customs, superstitions, legends
(though too sparsely), and religions of two branches of the
great Melanesian stock, embracing many grades of culture,
from the savage Papuan to the more important and
advanced people of Malay proper, it is essentially a working
and, on the whole, an excellent vade ineciim for the
sociologist. In the enormous mass of detail, gathered and
deftly woven together from numerous authorities duly
scheduled at the end of each section, no microscope is needed
to see that the author does not always seem awake to the
significance of isolated facts ; but we wonder that no refer-
ence should be made to the totem-signs and names of
various members of the groups as indicative of belief in
animal ancestry. Mr. Featherman is ill-advised in giving
some reviewer of his former book occasion to blaspheme by
the long preface which has only indirect relation to the
subject-matter of the volume. We respect his independent
exercise of judgment in treating of the inti'icate prolslem of
geographical distribution, but his arguments in support of
various originating centres ignore much that has come to
light in further support of Sir. Wallace's theory since its
first enunciation.

The Geolofjy of England and Wales. By H. B. Wood-
ward. (G. Philip it Son.) — This new edition of Mr.
Woodward's work is wanted. The book has deservedly
taken its ])lace as the standard authority on English and
Welsh geology, especially for practical application by
engineers and others engaged in mechanical industries by
virtue of its ample references to the principal localities where
the several formations may be studied, and its consequent
interpretation of the maps of the Geological Survey. It is
copiously illustrated with figures of sections and accompanied
by a good geological map in loose pocket.

The Blood Covenant : a Primitive Bite and its Bearings
on Scripture. By H. Clay Trumbull, D.D. (George
Eedway.) — This book is by an American divine who starts
with the intention, which of course is fulfilled, to make the
facts square with certain Christian dogmas. He has col-
lected from various ancient and modern sources a number
of interesting references to the widespread rite of inter-
transfusion or mutual tasting of blood as imparting a sacred

and binding character to covenants between individuals or
tribes, and it is not difficult to see how the early identifica-
tion of blood with life would lead to its symbolical use in
the relations of man with gods and with his fellow-man.
But of course so simple an explanation suffices not for
theologians, who regard all barbaric rites and ceremonies as
distorted vestiges of a pure original revelation, and hence
Dr. Trumbull sees in the blood- covenant an obscured ante-
type of the communion which Jesus has established with all
believers in the drinking of his blood, symbolised by the
wine of the Eucharist. Except for its facts, therefore, which
are honestly cited, the book is valueless.

The Metal Turner's Handijhooh. By Paul N. Hasluck,
A.I.M.E. (London : Crosby Lockwood &. Co. 1887.) —
The reputation gained by Mr. Hasluck by his now familiar
book, " Lathe Work," is sustained in the smaller volume
before us, in which within the compass of 140 pages he
contrives to impart a very consideraljle amount of informa-
tion on the subject of metal-turning. In his description of
the various types of lathe and accessory apparatus, he ap-
pends in each case the price at which the things described
are purchaseable ; but as he ranges over the forms con-
structed by a considerable number of makers, this innovation
can scai'cely be said to assume the form of advertising. Cer-
tainly it will be found useful by the beginner possessing a
definite knowledge of his own pecuniary means, but hazy
and uncertain as to what is procurable with them. The
illustrations are numerous and excellent, there is a good
index, and, in short, the beginner in metal-turning will find
this a trustworthy guide to a recreation at once serviceable
and pleasant.

Notchooh on Plane Geometrical Braiviiir/. By Robert
Harris. (London : Hamilton, Adams, & (Jo. 1886.) — This
work may be confidently recommended to all who wish to
master the technicalities of geometrical drawing; its author's
ob\'iously intimate personal acquaintance with his subject
enaljling liim to simplify his explanatory text so as to render
it easily apprehensible by the beginner. His chapter
" Concerning Scales " is particularly good ; while that on
" Ciraphie Arithmetic and Statics" will open a wholly new
world of investigation to a good many of his readers. But
why will he say (p. Ill9) "The double .accent (") signifies
inches " 1 It does not signify inches, any more than " £ "
or " cwt." signify inches. It signifies seconds of arc and
nothing in the world else ; and every one who has the
purity and definite connotation of scientific terminology at
heart is bound to protect with all his might against the
perpetuation of such a solecism as is contained in the
sentence we have quoted.

Iron Bridges of Moderate Span, their Construction and
Erection. By Hamilton Weldon Pendred. (London :
Crosby Lockwood & Co. 1887.) — Intended as an instruc-
tion book for the practical constructor of iron bridges of some
140 or 1.50 feet span, we can only regard Mr. Pendred's
little volume as the very model of what such a work should
be. The formula; more or less recondite with which modern
works on engineering are so largely occupied find no place
in his pages, and the working student who opens them in
fear that they will be found to swarm and pullulate with
equations for the estimation of thrusts and strains will find
to his delight that nothing of the sort appears between its
two covers. Written by a man quite obviously personally
familiar with the minutest details of the operations and
materials he describes, this book contains just the kind and
amount of information needed to en.able its readers them-
selves to repeat what is so very clearly expl.ained. The work
is a credit to " Weale's Series." If we knew of any higher
pi-aise, we would be.'^tow it.

July 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

213

Moffatt's Deductions from Euclid. (London : JMoflatt &,
Paige.) — This book consists of no less than 615 " Deductions "
from, or supplemeut;iry propositions to, those to be found
in the fir.st six books of Euclid, and may be heartily com-
mended to all who wish to familiarise themselves with the
leading facts of geometry as demonstrated by the Euclidean
method. The c;u-eful student of the work under notice
ought to be able to answer any and every catch quastion or
" rider " likely to be set in an examination in the immortal
book to which they form a valuable addendum.

rractical Electriciti/. By W. E. Ayrtox, F.R S. (Lon-
don : Cassell k, Co. 1887.) — As a thoroughly sound and trust-
worthy introduction to the science of Quantitative Electricity,
it wovdd be difficult to improve upon Professor Ap-ton's
latest work, containing, as it does, the fullest description
both of the theory and practical construction of the instru-
ments employed in electrical measurements. But the reader
who goes to its pages for information as to dancing pith-
figures, cork spiders, ilhiminated spiral tubes, and other
prettinesses of the whilom lectui-e t;vble, will be doomed to
disappointment ; for nothing of the sort appears between
its two covers. In its stead he will find a mine of informa-
tion as to the nature of the electrical current, electro-motive
force, potential, Ac, and will be able to realise the signitica-
tiou and use of those units of me;vsui'ement, the ampere,
the coulomb, the farad, the ohm, the volt, and the watt.
Professor Ayrton's volume is, in short, a rei)roduction of his
first year's course of lectures on electrical engineering
delivered to the students at the City and Guilds of London
Institute, with the laboratory practice by which they are
illustrated. It is a sound and conscientious piece of work.

Tlic Modern Practice of SkipbuiMinri in Iron and Steel.
By Samuel P. Tiieakle. Vol. I., Text; Vol. II., Plates.
(London and Glasgow : William Collins & Co.) — Mr. Thearle
has made, in eveiy respect, a worthy addition to the
Advanced Science series of Messrs. CoUins & Co. in the
work now before us. Presumably intended as a text-
book for examinees of the Science and Art Department and
of the Admiialty, it is really too good for such a purpose,
possessing as it does very real merit as a technological hand-
book. Its descriijtions are exhaustive, and the illustrations
leave nothing to be desiied. Now that oui' " hearts of oak "
sui'vive only in the chorus of an almost forgotten sailors'
song, the practice of iron shipbuilding must possess an
interest for all concerned in the maintenance of our maritime
supremacy, to say nothing of merciintile shipowners and
yachtsmen, who have a special personal concern in it. In
fact, all who go down to the sea in ships, or who have to
trust their lives to the passenger vessels of the present day,
may spend an hour or two very much more unprofitably
than in the study of Mr. Thearle's capital treatise and its
accompanying atlas. Such study cannot fail to impart
intelligent ideas as to the manner in which the floating
towns which now connect the most distant parts of the
globe are made so staunch, safe, and comfortable as the
larger proportion of them undeniably are ; for, assuredly,
wherever " ignorance is bliss " it is not in the selection of a
vessel to make a long voyage in.

Old or New C/temistri/. By Samuel E. Phillips, P'.C.S.
(London : Wertheimer, Lea <fe Co. 1886.) — Mr. Phillips is
a man with a grievance. In November 1885 he applied to
the Council of the Chemical Society for a pecuniary grant
to make numerical analyses of the indium and the gallium
alums. In vulgar, but expressive, parlance, the Society
" didn't seem to see it." Again in May 1886 he sent a paper
to the Society on the Urethane Reaction, only again to meet
with a refusal. Hinc illie lachri/nue. In a highly technical
series of essays oiu- author exposes (or believes that he

exposes) some of the fallacies underlying the new system of
chemistry. The very technicality of which we have spoken
unfits his little book for popular reading, but it may be
commended to such chemists as care to hear both sides
of the question.

The Lads of Little Clayton. By R. Stead. (London :
Blackie & Son. 1887.) — This little volume is made up of
a series of short det;iched papers describing, very naturally
indeed, the doings and misdoings of the lads of the lower
and lower middle classes in an English village some five-
and-twenty or thii-ty years ago. The lads are real flesh-and-
blood ones, in many cases rough and even brutal, and their
conversiition is such as may even now be heard on any
village green. Where, as in the majority of cases, any moral
is inculcated, it is never obtruded, but springs naturally
from the denouement. This would be a fii'st-rate book for a
parochial lending library. It is as innocent as it is
interesting.

Messrs. Longmans send us Social Arrows, by Lord
Brabazon, whose practical efforts to improve the moral
condition of oui' crowded centres liy the wholesome material
remedies of more open spaces, and to lighten the toil of the
overworked shop assistant, have our deep sympathy. Spirit
Workers in the Home Circl-e, by Morell 'Tiieohald (Fisher
Unwin), is illustrated by facsimiles of " direct spii-it-
writings," and blames the Society for Psychical Research
for assuming that it is dealing with phenomena subject to
known physical laws. It Ls, we presume, hopeless after this
to commend to Mr. Theobald, with his disregard of Time
and Space, Dr. Bitiiell's Aynostic Problems (Williams &
Norgate), but we may advise the readers of Knowledge to
make acquaintiince with it. Of Enylish as She is Tun<jht
(Fisher Li"nwin) the crciim has already appeared in the
Century Marjazine. Edward III. and his Wars and The
Misrule of Henry III. (Nutt) are modernised extracts from
contemporary clironicles, designed to cover the whole period
of Mediaeval and Renaissance history. The name of Mr.
York Powell as editor is sufficient guarantee of the excel-
lence of the series. We have received new editions of Mr.
Herbert Fry's excellent guide-book, London in 1887, and
of Mr. Spencer's Koad-Book, indispensable to the cyclist ;
Nos. 1-3 of the Essex Xatiiralisl, admirably edited, and
enriched with a facsimile of Norden's map of Essex, ISO-t ;
and Memoirs of the Imperial University of Japan, con-
taining some interesting myths and traditions of the Ainos.

©MX WAWi Column.

By Richard A. Proctok.

A WIIIST rUOBLElI. LEAD OF ACE FROM ACE TO FOUR.

HE whist editor of ihc Australasian, in a note on
my discussion of the whist superstition that after
a misdeal the nest deal will almost certainly give
a singleton hand, discusses the question of the
jirobabilitj- of a singleton suit in any hand taken
at random in any deal. " We showed," he says,
speaking of a former inquiry, " that the chance
that we should find either a singleton or a blank
suit is 7 = 20. Mr. Proctor makes the fraction
4 = 13, which is appreciably smaller."

The difference arises from the fact that the chance of a singleton
suit appearing is appreciably smaller than the chance that there will
be either a singleton suit or a blank suit. It will be remembered
that adding up numbers representing one-fourth of the total number
of arrangements by which a singleton suit can appear in a hand
(as when the suits are divided 5, 4,3, 1, or 6, 4, 2, 1, or 6, 3, 3, 1, or the
like) I obtained the number 48,882,413,450. To give the chance
consiilered by the whist editor of the Australasian, we must add to
tliis number one-fourth the number of all those arrangements in
which a blank suit appears, but no singleton (because we have

214

KNOW^LEDGE <►

[July 1, 1887.

already counted those in which both a blank suit and a singleton
appear). Thus we obtain the addition sum: —

One-fourth of the Number of
H-inds iu whieh arranj^'ement
Arrangement. cun appear.

6, 4, 3, 0 2,105,429,010

6, 4, 4, 0 .

5, S, 3, 0 .

6, 5, 2, 0 .

7, 4, 2, 0 .

7, 3, 3, 0 .

8, 3, 2, 0 .

9, 2, 2, 0 .

7, 6, 0, 0 .

8, 5, 0, 0 .

9, 4, 0, 0 .

10, 3, 0, 0 .

11, 2, 0, 0 .

Total ".
Numbers already obtained

Total .

1,973,839,725

1,421,164,002

1,033,574,256

574,207,920

421,085,808

172,262,370

13,050,180

8,833,968

4,969,107

1,533,675

245,388

18,252

7,730,214,297
48,882,413,450

50,012,627,747
Multiply by 4

Grand total . . . 220,450,508,988

That is to say, out of the 635,013,559,600 hands which can possibly
be held at whist, no less tlian 226,450,508,988 show either a singleton
suit or a blanlc suit. Thus the chance of any hand taken at random
in any deal showing either a blank or a singleton suit is represented
by the fraction

226,450,508,988

635,013,559,600'

which differs very little from (it is really slightly greater than)

7-20, the approximation mentioned by tlie whist editor of the

Aust?'alasian.

In passing, I may remark that I cannot understand a comment made
in the Australasian upon my approximate estimate that the odds are
about 5 to 2 in favour of the appearance of a singleton in one liand at
least out of the four distributed at a single deal. The whist editor states
that a friend, from the records of an experience extending over five
years, had found that the total number of singleton hands is about
equal to the total number of deals. " We believe, therefore," he
proceeds, " that the approximate result which Mr. Proctor has pub-
lished is under rather than over the mark." My approximate result
cannot be tested by counting the number of singleton lianils ; but
my exact result relates directly to them. I showed that in
635,013,559,000 hands, and therefore for 158,753,389,900 deaU,
there will be 195,529,653,800 hands in which there is at least one
singleton, or about sixteen such hands for every thirteen deals.
This is above, not below, the result observed in five years' play,
unless tlie " at least " is to be interpreted rather liberally. But a
singleton in one or other hand, when singletons are appearing
freely, will often escape uncounted.

The article by the Amtralasian wliist editor is aimed at the
fallacy of supposing that if a player holds Ace and three others
(not including the King, or both Queen and Knave) he can safely
lead a small one where one trick is necessary to save the game. He
wishes me to turn my mathematical deduction to practical account
by diverting it from the superstition I attacked to one which
affects actual play. For, as he points out, when so long-practised a
player as " Pembridge " confidently asserts that the odds are ton to
one against " a singleton being on the tapis at all," it is evident
that very erroneous ideas are held among whist-players on this
point, importantly though it should affect whist play.

However, it is not by an inquiry into the average number of
singleton hands, or hands with a blank suit, per hands dealt, that
the propriety of an Ace lead from Ace to four, under the condition
mentioned, can be decided. Taking it for the moment as decided
that where one trick saves the game, the question of playing Ace
from Ace to four must be decided by the cliance of the Ace being
ruffed second round, we have iu the case of an original first lead a
comparatively simple problem — while if other suits have been
already opened our problem becomes so complex (having so many
varied forms) that no one would care to deal with it. I take, then,
the simple problem : —

If A, the original leader, holds four cards in a suit, what is the
chance that one or other of the opponents, T and Z, mill le able to
ruff the suit second round? ajiart from the possihility of either
{jetting discards in the suit.

I get the following figures by taking from the table at page 196
of my " How to Play Whist " (which, be it noticed, not only shows
how the suits may be distributed in a hand, but Low all the cards

may be distributed in a suit), the various numbers set opposite the
different arrangements mentioned : —

Distribution of cards

of a given suit among

the four players, one

at least holding 4.

4, 4, 3, 2 .

5, 4, 3, 1 .

5, 4, 2, 2 .

4, 3, 3, 3 .

6, 4, 2, 1 .
i, 4, 4, 1 .

6, 4, 3, 0 .

5, 4, 4, 0 .

7, 4, 1, 1 .

7, 4, 2, 0 .

8, 4, 1, 0 .

9, 4, 0, 0 .

Total .

One-fourth the number

of ways in which

the suit can be

so distributed.

. 34,213,221,900*

. 20,527,933,140

. 16,795,581,000*

. 16,72e,404,010»

7,464,702,960
. 4,751,830,375
. 2,105,429,0401
l,973,839,725t
622,058,580
574,207,9201
71,775,990t
l,533,675t

I

. 105,828,585,005
Sum of numbers marked *, cases
in which no hand is blank or
holds but one card in the suit . 67,735,267,000
Sum of numbers of cases iu which
at least one hand is blank in
suit, or holds a singleton . 38,093,317,405

Sum of numbers marked t, cases
in which at least one hand

is blank 4,720,786,350

Sum of numbers of cases in which
at least one handholds but one

card 33,438,307,045

f Sum of numbers of cases in which
<. tn-o hands hold either a single-
l_ ton or no card in the suit . 695,368,245

It will be seen that if we neglect as numerically unimportant
the cases in which two hands are void, or hold no more than one
card in the suit, we may say that in round numbers there are for
67,700 cases in which the suit will go round twice, 33,400 cases in
which it will go round but once, and 4,700 cases in which it will not
go round at all. Of these last-named cases, two-thirdn, or about
3,130, in which an enemy holds the hand void in the suit, are of
course unfavourable to the Ace lead ; but they do not atloct our
judgment, simply because it is certain that the chance of a ruff first
round must be risked in any case. (There is, of course, a much
greater chance of this happening when Ace is led from Ace to live.)
Of the 33,400 cases in which a singleton is held, we may consider
at least 400 to be cases where another hand is either void, or holds
a singleton, the two hands thus situate being so distributed between
T, B, and Z, that A B do not lose through a ruft'. This leaves
33,000 cases of a singleton hand in the suit led by A, as against
67,700 cases in which the suit will go round twice. Of these
33,000 cases, 22,000 will be cases in which either 3' or Z holds the
singleton, and therefore the enemy can ruff the second round of
the suit. Thus, by leading a small card A will lose the Ace in
22,01W cases out of 07,700 + 33,000 or 100,700, or, roughly, about
twice in nine trials, or more nearly, five times iu 23.

How far this 2-9tIi chance of being ruffed second round woidd
justify a player in leading Ace first, to save a game (which might
be saved otherwise) at the risk of losing command over the suit,
must depend on the details of the hand and game. It is to be
remembered that even though Z, the fourth player, should be
able to ruff, he would not ruff the suit when returned by B in
every case, only if weak or very strong in trumps. For as B
would return, generally, a small card, to ruff would be rutting a
doubtful trick.

(9ur C&tsisi Column.

By " Mephisto."

MATCH BL.iCKBUENE r. ZUKERTORT.

HE result of this match, 5 to 1 in favour of Black-
burne, with 8 draws, has rather taken the Chess
world by surprise, and must raise the winner in
the estimation of those who apprehended that
Blackburne never did hini.*ielf justice when con-
testing a match. For nearly forty years, that is,
ever since Staunton was in his best form, foreign
Chess-players were supreme in this country. By
this victory, however, Blackburne has avenged his
former defeat by Zukertort in 1881, and thereby an Englishman
again occupies foremost rank amongst Chess-players. For the time

July 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

215

being, unless the coming international tournament should decide
otherwise, Blackburne may fairly claim the championship of Europe.
Tie pla\' in the match has been good, and above the average.
Appended are some interesting particulai's and positions.

Zukertort again relied upon the irregular opening which did him
such good .-errice in the London tournament. For the purpose of
instruction, and to show the various defences adopted by Black-
burne, we give here the opening moves of five of the games, in
which Zukertort as first player adopted the irregular attack against
Blackburne, namely in the 2nd, 4th, 6th, Stb, and 10th game.

1.

PtoQ4

PtoQ4

PtoQ4

PtoQ4

Pto Q4

PtoQ4

P to Q4

Pto Q4

Kt to KB3

Kt to KB3

PtoK3

PtoKS

Pto K3

B to Kt5

Kt to KB3

Kt to KB3

PtoKS

QKt to Q2

P to QB4

P to QB4

Kt to KB3

Kt to Q2

Pto B4

PtoKS

P to QKt3

P to K4

P to QKtS

Kt to KB3

Pto B4

P to K3

B toB4

PtoB4

B to Kt2

B to K2

Kt to QB3

P to QKtS

Kt to B3

PxP

PtoKS

Kt to B3

QKt to Q3

KtxP
KKt to B3

B to Kt2

B to Kt2

B toQ2

Kt to B3

BtoQ2

B toK2

QtoQ3

Kt to B3

B to K2

Rto Bsq

P to B3

R to B sq

R to B sq

Castles

Kt to Kt3

BtoK2

Castles

PxP

B to Q3

BPxP

BPxP

PxP

B to Q2 -

KPxP

KPxP

B to Q3

Qto B2

B to Q3

PxP

P toBl

Castles KR

Castles

PxP

Castles

Castles QR

Castles

B to Q3

Pto B5

PtoB4

PtoB5

QKt to Q2

B to Kt sq

P to KR4

B to Kt sq

Castles

P to QR3

KR to B sq

P to QR3

R to K sq

P to KR3

P to B4 (J)

Kt to K5

Kt to K2 {d}

P to QKt4 (a)

P to QKt 4 (c)

ZUKEETORT.

Black.

10.

11.

12.

13.

(o) White obtained the belter game, but lost througli indifferent
play.

(A) Black obtained an advantage, but the game resulted in a
draw.

(c) Resulted in a draw.

Id) Drawn.

The tenth is a very prettily played game, which we therefore
give in full.

Whfte. Black.

Zultertort. Blackburni^.

1. P to Q4 P to Q4.

2. P to K3 Kt to KB3
S. P to QB4 P to K3

4. Kt to KB3 V to B4

5. P to QKtS Kt to BS

6. B to Kt2 P :< QP

7. KPxP I'xP

8. P ;•. P B to Kt.-> (ch )

(Inconvenient ! White

should Castle before
playing B to Kt2.)

9. QKt to Q2

(B to B3 was requisite.)
Kt to K5
Q to R4

(Black threatened Kt x Kt
followed by KtxQP.)
Castles
R to Qsq Q to B3 1

(Very good ! Threatening
B X Kt (ch.), and the Kt
cannot retake. If B to
Bsq then Kt x QP wins.)

10,

11

WHrrE.

Black.

Zukertort.

Blacliburne.

12.

B to Q3

(He must

give up the ex-

change,

there is no other

move.)

B X Kt (ch.)

13.

RxB

KtxR

14.

K X Kt

B to Q2

15.

Qto RS

KR to Ksq

16.

P toR4

P to QR4

17.

K to Qsq

Kt to Kt5

18.

B to Kt sq

P to K4

(Opening up White's game.)

10. PxP QtoBS

20. Q to B3 B to K3

21. P to K3 QRtoQsq(ch)

22. K to Bsq
(Of course he should have

played K to Ksq.)

23. R to Q6 Resigns
(For it B X R then Kt to

R7 (ch.) wins.)

Blackburne's favourite opening was the Ruy Lopez. In the
seventh game the following interesting combination developed
itself early in the game. Blackburne, being White, played
1. P to K4, P to K4; 2. Kt to KB3, Kt to QB3 ; 3. B to Kt5,
P to QR3 ; 4. B to R4, Kt to BS ; 5. P to Q3, P to Q3 ; 6. Kt to B3,
P to KKtS : 7. Castles, P to QKt4 (B to Kt2 is the proper move);
8. B to KtS, B to Kt5 ; 'J. Kt to K.5, Kt to Q5.

White.
Blackburne.

Blackburne was prepared for this move, and continued with
10. Kt X Kt 10. B X Q

U. Kt to B6
(A very tine combination, such as does not often occur in match
play. Of course, if the Queen moves away, then Kt x Kt mate.)

Kt xKt
12. KtxQ RxKt

(If instead B or Kt moves. White plays Kt x P.)

1.3. PxKt
Best as it secures an advantage for White by blocking Black's
game, and forming a strong array of Pawns against the weakened
Q's side.

B to Kto
14. P to QR4. (White won).

The following is another exceedingly interesting position, which
occurred in the i:ith game, where Blackburne played in a brilliant
manner, sacrificing a piece for a fine attack.

Zukertort.
Black.

White.

Blackburne.

Blackburne played Kt x P 1 (An elegant move, and perfectly
sound.)

KxKt

P to Q5 1 PxP

Kt X P K to Bsq

Kt X Kt B X Kt

R to Q5
White might at once have won his piece back by R x B, R x R,
Q to K6, R to Ksq, &c., but althougli White would emerge with a
P ahead, the game looked rather drawish, besides the temptation to
continue the attack was strong.

P to Q Kt4
A good move, for, if either R or B x P, then Black gains time.

RxP
The position is very rich in possibilities. White might have
continued B to Q16 (ch) or R to BS.

Qto R5

216

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[July 1, 1887.

P to Kt3 Q to R6

R to Q5 Kt to Q5

RxKt

(Extremely bold play.)

Bx R
R to Qsq Q to B4

Q to B3 B to B4

P to Kt4 B X BP (ch.)

Black might have forced a wiu at oiice by Q to B3.
K to Esq B to R5

R X R (ch.) R X R

P X B 1! to B3

K to Kt2. (The game resulted in a draw.)

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR JULY.

By F.R.A.S.

POTS continue to appear occasionally on llie sun, so
that the observer should not rela.x hi.s vi'atcli tor
them. The .sun is in apogee on the morning of
the 2nd ; or, in other words, the earth is at her
greatest dislance from him. He of course appears
smaller then than at any time during the year.
The aspect of the night sky is shown in ma[> vii.
of " The Stars in their Seasons." Up to July 21
there is no real night in any part (jf Great Britain.
Mercury is an evening star, and at the beginning of the month may
be caught with the naked eye over the W.N.W. part of the horizon
after sunset. He is in Cancer (" The Stars in their Seasons," map
iii.) throughout the month. He is at his greatest eastern elonga-
tion from the sun (2.j° .51') on the 1st. Venu.s, as an evening star,
is the most brilliant and conspicuous object in the sky. She attains
her greatest elongation east (45° 32') in the evening of the 13th.
She exhibits a beautiful crescent in the telescope now. She will be
found in the W. by N. after dusk. She travels across Leo (" The
Stars in their Seasons," map iii.) during the month. Jupiter is
getting so rapidly towards the west, and is .so low down, that he
must he looked for the moment it is dark enough. He will be found
a very little to the north and somewhat to the east of Spica Virginis
("The Stars in their Seasons," map v.). The certainly visible
phenomena of his satellites during July number only twelve. They
are as follows : — On the 1st Satellite II. will reappear from eclipse
at lOh. ")m. 29s. P.M., as will the third Satellite on the 3rd at
lOh. 18m. 51s. P.M. On the Gth Satellite I. will be occulted at
llh. Om. P.M. On the 7th the shadow of Satellite I. will enter on to
Jupiter's face at Oh. 33m. P..M., the satellite casting it leaving his
opposite limb at lOh. 31m. On the 10th Satellite HI. will reappear
from occultation at Uh. 2Um. p.m. On the 14th the ingress of
Satellite I. in transit happens at lOh. 12ra. p.m. On the 15th Satellite
II. will be occulted at lOh. 11m. P.M., as will Satellite I. at
yh. 1 7m. P.M. on the 22nd. On the 24th the shadow of Satellite II. will
begin its transit over Jupiter's face at Uh. 43m. P.M., Satellite II.
itself leaving Jupiter's opposite limb only one minute later ! Finall3',
on the 31st, Satellite I. will reappear from eclipse at Oh. 6m. 43s.
Neither Saturn, Uranus, nor Neptune is, for the observer's purpose,
visible. The Moon is full at 8h. 34-2m. in the morning on the 5tb,
enters her last quarter at 6h. 57'lm. AM. on the 13th, is new at
8h. .50ra. P.M. on the 2Uth, and enters her first quarter at 2h. 30-3m. in
the afternoon of the 27th. Six occultations of fixed stars bj' the
Moon will occur at tolerably convenient hours for the amateur
observer during July. On the 1st, v Ijiline, a star of the 6th mag-
nitude, will disappear at the Moon's dark limb at 'Jh. 23m. P.M., at
an angle from her vertex of 19° ; reappearing at her bright limb at
lOh. 4m. P.M., at an angle of 320° from her vertex. On the Gth,
B.A.C. 7053, a SHh magnitude star, will disappear at the bright
limb of the Moon at 9h. 49 m., as will o Capricorni, also of the
Bjth magnitude, simultaneously. At the time of their disappear-
ance B.A.C. 7053 will be 37°, and o Capricorni 38° from the vertex
of the Moon. The first-named star will reappear at the Moon's
dark limb at lOh. 53m. P.M., and the second at lOh. 54m. P.M., both
at a vertical angle of 2S0°. On the Stli, 42 Aquarii, of the 6th mag-
nitude, will disappear at the bright limb 48 minutes after midnight,
at a vertical angle of 43°. It will not reappear until about a quarter
to 2 o'clock the next morning. On the afternoon of the 17th, an
occultation of Aldebaran will happen in bright sunshine, the star
disappearing at the bright limb of the Moon at 3h. 16m., at an
angle of 139° from her vertex, and reappearing at 3h. 33m. at a vertical
angle of 1 72°, of course at the dark limb. On the 25th, B.A.C. 4277, of
the 6th magnitude, will disappear at 8h. 20m. P.M., at the Moon's dark
limb, at an angle of 34° from her vertex, reappearing at her bright

limb at 8h. 45m., at a vertical angle of 350°. Finally, on the 3Ist.
21 Sagittarii, of the 5th magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb
at 12h. 23m P.M. The reappearance at the bright limb will not
happen until between 1 and 2 o'clock in the early morning of
August 1. When our notes begin the Moon is in Libra, but at
oh. 30m. A.M. on the 2nd, she has arrived at the western edge of
the narrow northern spike of Scorpio (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxvi.). By 2 o'clock the same afternoon she has crossed this
and emerged in Ophiuchus. Her passage over this constellation
occupies her until 6h. A.M. on the 4th, when she enters Sagittarius.
She is travelling through Sagittarius until 2h. P.M. on the 6th, when
she quits it for Capricornus (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.).
Her journey across Capricornus terminates at 4h. P.M. on the 8th,
and she then passes into Aquarius. Here she remains until 7h. P.M.
on the lOth, when she enters Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxii.). From about 7h. P.M. on the 11th to llh. p.m. on the
12th she is in the confines of Pisces and Cetus, but fairly enters
Pisces again at the hour last named. Twenty-four hours later she
has crcssed again into the northernmost part of Cetus, which she
finally quits for Aries at 6h. 30m. P.M. on the 14th. It takes her
precisely 24 hours to cross the constellation last named, and at
6h. 30m. P.M. on the 15th she pa.sses into Taurus (" The Seasons
Pictured,'' plate xxiii.). Travelling through Taurus, we find her at
Ih. 30ni. in the afternoon of the ISth on the confines of the northern
part of Orion; 12 hours later she has traversed this and come out
in Gemini ('* The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.) She is travelling
through Gemini until 6 P.M. on the 20th, when she enters Cancer;
quitting Cancer, in turn, for Leo at 5h. A.M. on the 22nd. She is in
Leo until 4h. P.M. on the 24th, at which hour she crosses the
boundary into Virgo ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.). It takes
her until 3h. P.M. on the 27th to traverse this large constellation,
and at that hour she passes into Libra (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxvi.). Then, as at the beginning of the month, we find her
at llh. A.M. on the 29th on the edge of the narrow northern strip
of Scorpio, and this she leaves at 8 o'clock the same evening for
Ophiuchus. At 1 o'clock in the afternoon of the 31st she has
quilted Ophiuchus for Sagittarius, and is, of course, in Sagittarius
when the mouth closes.

The London Stereoscopic Company purpose holding their Third
Annual International Amateur Photographic Exhibition in October
next, when a sum of 501. in cash and a number of gold, silver, and
bronze medals will be oifered as prizes. Captain W. de W. Abney,
F.R.S., as president, and the editors of the Camera magazine and
of the Amateur I'hotoffraj/hcr have undertaken to act as judges,
together with two to be a23pointed by the plebiscite of the exhibi-
tion. _ The exhibition is under the patronage of several influential
amateurs. The whole of the entrance fees will be given in full to the
Photographers' Benevolent Association, and we think this idea of the
Stereoscopic Company a good one ; for while so many wealthy persons
are interested in the art, it is well that they should from time to
time be reminded of the existence of their less fortunate professional
brethren. All particulars relating to the exhibition can be obtained
by application to the Company's Secretary, 108 and 110 Regent
Street, London, W.

Contents

p.^GE

Stialtespeare's Poems 169

Science and Religion 171

The Story of Creation : a Plain Ac-
count of Evolution. ByE. Clodd 173

The Oil Stores of America 176

CIothes-Mothfl and their Allies. By

E. A. Butler 177

Tne Southern Skies 180

The One Scale Atlas 181

The Wild Winds. By "Stella

Occidcns" 182

Notes on Americanisms. By

Richard A. Proctor 183

•• Don't 1 " 185

OF No. 20.

PAGE

The Japanese Magic Mirror. By

Dr. R. F. Hutchinsou 185

Our Puzzles (Solutions) 186

" The .'■cience of Thouglit." By F.

Max MUUer 187

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor . . 188

Reviews 189

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs" 189

The Face of the Sky for June. By

F.R.A.S l!'l

Our Chesi Column. By "Me-

phisto" 191

TEEMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

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♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

217

^ ILLUSTRATED^MAGAZINE
fcENCE,lITERATURE,& ARl

LONDON: AUGUST 1, 1887.

BACON AND SCIENCE. '

HERE is a widely prevalent belief that Lord
Bacon was the originator of inductive
philosophy — the father of the modern
scientific method. This idea is so generally
entertained that to many it will appear like
paradox to question it. We have been told
again and again that it was as followers of
the Baconian method that Pascal and Tor-
ricelli determined the properties of air ; that Newton was a
disciple of Bacon and was directed by Baconian hints when
he quarried from out the unknown the grand law of gravi-
tation. " Nurtured in Bacon's school," says a modern
enthusiast, " Boyle transformed hydrostatics from a loose
assemblage of facts into a deductive science ; Watt con-
structed the steam-engine, which has annihilated .space and
economised the labour of millions, and Franklin rivalled the
glories of the ancient Prometheus in snatching the electric
fire from heaven."

In reality, the influence of Bacon in starting and guiding
modern science is little better than a myth. The common
opinion on the subject justifies the old saying, Communis
ojnnio conDiuinis error. No competent student of science
acquainted with Bacon's own promises and anticipations
regarding his method has ever adopted this error, though
many students of science unacquainted with Bacon's works
imagine that he really originated the modern scientific
method, and all such students of Bacon's works as have
little knowledge of the history of scientific research imagine
that the inductive method he devised and described is the
method which Pascal and Newton, Watt, the Herschels,
Laplace, Darwin, and other great leaders of science have
followed in efiecting the discoveries which have made their
names illustrious.

The world owes much to Bacon, but not this. Science
owes not a little to him, but assuredly not her method. It
can be more certainly shown that Bacon was not the
inventor of the modern scientific method than that he was
not the author of the plays attributed to Shakespeare — and
this, in my opinion, is ^aying a great deal. But if this
should by some be thought little, then I will use another
comparison, and say it is as certain that Bacon was not the
father of modern science as that he — Ptolemaist as he was
to the backbone — was not the discoverer of the C'opernican
theory, the earliest product of the modem method, published
to the world seventeen yeais before he was born.

The most striking proof of the essential difference
between Bacon's method and the actual method of scientific
inquiries is the marked failiu-e of Bacon's anticipations in
regard to what his method was to effect. Said Bacon (I
follow Spedding's translation) : " The course I propose for
the discovery of sciences is such as leaves but little to the

acutenfss and strength of wits, but places all wits and
understandings nearly on a level. . . . For my way of dis-
covering sciences . . . performs everything by the surest
rules and demonstrations." Assuredly no such levelling of
wits as Bacon anticipated has come about. No small mind
has accomplished great results by his method — nor, indeed,
any great mind either.

What, then, was Bacon's method 1 and what is the
method of all true science, alike in ancient and modern
times 1

There can be no knowledge of nature without observation
and experiment. Tbat is the golden rule of science. Had
Bacon discovered and announced that, fir.st of all men, to
the world, he would assuredly have deserved all that has
been said of him by men either not knowing wh.tt he
actually said or how science has actually advanced. Had
that been the blow by which Aristotelian methods were
attacked. Bacon would have justly been regarded as one who
had overthrown a false system of philosophy by a well-
delivered and most effective stroke. But it was not Bacon
who enunciated first, still less was it he who first recognised,
that golden rule. Recognised we know not how far back —
but Chaldean astronomers and Egyptian architects must
have had a very clear idea of it ages before the law was
enunciated — it was insisted upon by no other than Aristotle
himself.

Because Bacon attacked Aristotle's system of logic, and
did much to diminish its influence in the schools, it is com-
monly understood that be overthrew the Aristotelian philo-
sophy. As a matter of fact. Bacon was in error even in
attacking the Aristotelian syllogistic system. In so doing
he forgot the sound principle, Ahusus non toUit usum (or,
as Guy Mannering translates it, " the abuse of anything doth
not abrogate the lawful use thereof"). He fell into special
error in denying the use of the .syllogistic method in regard
to the system of inductive inquiry which he advocated, the
effective application of which must depend absolutely on the
very method Bacon scorned.

There can be no knowledge of nature until all possible
ohseriritiong and experiments have been made — this, though
not in so many words, was the principle on which Bacon
insisted. You must have all your facts, and sort them all
into their several compartments. Then will the true theory
be recognised by its agreement with all known facts, either
absolutely or relatively, according to its different details and
the bearing of the various orders of facts upon them. As
certainly as the true key to a complicated lock may be
recognised by its correspondence with all the wards when
you have taken the lock to pieces and carefully compared
each part, ward by ward, with the key, so surely can the
one only true explanation of the facts relating to a subject of
inquiry be recognised when you have examined the subject
in all possible lights and compared all the facts, detail by
detail, with the theory. All possible positive instances and
negative instances, as well as instances partially positive and
partially negative in greater or less degree (no less than
twentj^seven classes or instances wei-e indicated by Bacon),
must be collected and compared with each admissible
theory ; then will the true theory show itself — to the level-
ling of unequal wits, as well as to the advancement of
scientific learning.

The method has not only not brought unequal wits to a
common level, it has never enabled any man, let his genius
be ever so great, to arrive at truth. Not one discovery in
science has ever bfen made by this method. No student of
science familiar with the complication of details existing in
all the problems of nature, even in some which appear the
simplest, would ever have thought of suggesting the in-
ductive method as recommended by Bacon. No student of

218

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[August 1, 1887.

science has ever even begun to apply the true Baconian
method — unless, indeed, we consider Bacon himself as one
who tried the method, laying himself open to the well-
merited stroke of the great deductive (or rather, deductively
inductive) philosopher Harvey, who said to him : " Bacon
writes philosophy like a Lord Chancellor." Any one who
wishes to see what utter nonsense may be deduced by one
attempting to apply the true Baconian method of induction
should read Bacon's discussion of heat in the second book of
the " Novum Organum." The gathering of instances is full of
mistakes such as even in his day should have been impos-
sible ; their classification and comparison introduces the
wildest and most fanciful notions : the " vintage " is worthy
of the bad fruit and the poor classification. After thirty or
forty closely printed pages of misapprehended facts and
delusive reasoning. Bacon arrives at this noteworthy con-
clusion : —

" Heat is an expansive motion restrained, and striving to
exert itself in the smaller particles : the expansion is
modified by its tendency to rise, through expanding
towards the exterior, and the effort is modified by its not
being sluggish, but active and somewhat violent."

Of course, those who can find Harvey's discovery of the
circulation of the blood and the Copernican theory of the
solar system in Shakespeare may very well imagine that
Bacon's definition of heat as an " expansive motion restrained "
was a splendid anticipation of the modern theory that " heat
is a mode of motion." In reality the modern theory of
heat would be just as certainly and absolutely negatived if
Bacon's imagined facts were real ones, or if his definition of
heat as above quoted were sound, as the Copernican theory
would be negatived if the ideas expressed by Ulysses in
" Troilus and Cressida " were just, and as the circulation of
the blood would be disproved if the account of the office of
the blood given by Menenius Agrippa in the first scene of
" Coriolanus " were correct. The poor " vintage " resulting
from Bacon's discussion of heat is as much like the theory
based on the researches of Ampere, Laplace, JMayer, Magnus,
Joule, Eumford, and the rest, as bad vinegar is like the best
Burgundy, or the dregs of a bottle of British "gooseberry "
like a freshly poured glass of Veuve Clicquot. Not even
the very beginnings of the modern science of heat can be
traced in Bacon's definition ; the laws of convection, con-
duction, and radiation of heat are as utterly absent as the
more advanced developments of the science — • Provost's
theory of exchanges, the laws of specific heat, the kinship
between heat, light, electricity, and chemical action, and the
like. The very circumstance that the modern theory of
heat can be imagined to exist vmder Bacon's definition is the
best proof of the worthlessness of a definition which is so
vague that any theory of heat whatever might have been
equally well supposed (by the ill-informed) to undei'lie it.

It may be interesting to compare with Bacon's attempt
to employ his own system efiectively such scientific dis-
coveries as Newton, Harvey, or Darwin have achieved by
that combination of deductive and inductive methods which
alone has led to any real progress in science from the days
of the science students of Babylon, Egypt, and India to the
present time. I take the work of Newton as that which
falls most fully within my own range of study, and in deal-
ing with which I can best recognise how much or how little
Bacon had to do with the result achieved.

To begin with, note that the discovery of the law of gravity
was the culmination of a series of discoveries.

To go no farther back than the time of Copernicus, it is
evident that we have in the Copernican theory a necessary
predecessor of the theory of gravity. That Copernicus died
Boventeen years before Bacon was born aflfords, as I have
already suggested, a tolerably clear proof that the Baconian

method was not essential to the achievement of great scien-
tific discoveries. Vixere fortes ante Agaiiiernnona multi —
there were many strong men before Agamemnon, many
great thinkers before Newton. The Copernican theory was
established by that fruitful combination of deduction and
induction to which I have just referred — induction having
had a somewhat larger share than usual in the work, since
undoubtedly astronomical observations were carried on
much longer than they need have been before analysis was
applied to the evidenc3 collected and its true meaning de-
duced. Here was proof, before Bacon described his method,
of its worthlessness ; for all the multitudinous obsei'vationa
of the planets before Copernicus's time had led only to
greater and greater perplexity and confusion worse con-
founded, " ceutrics and eccentrics, scribbled o'er cycle and
epicycle, orb in orb." But, oddly enough. Bacon himself
has shown how valueless his method was l)y which the mere
multiplying of observations was to be trusted for the educing
of new truths. For though, as Mr. Ellis (one of the few
competent men of science who has ever dealt with Bacon's
claims) points out, " Bacon paid great attention to astronomy,
discussed carefully the methods in which it ought to be
studied, and constructed for the satisfaction of his own
mind an elaborate theory of the heavens," his theory was
purely Ptolemaic and altogether erroneous.

If the theory of Copernicus, while based on an exceptional
amount of inductive evidence, was nevertheless a triumph
of the deductive method, the work of Kepler was excep-
tionally, and indeed unduly, deductive. He was not willing
to examine facts with suflicient patience before conceiving
theories, but with amazing liveliness of imagination con-
ceived theory after theory and then sought for facts whereby
to test them. If he had not been controlled by singular
self-restraint, leading him to submit his favoured fancies to
the test of observation, and to give them up one after the
other as observation decided against them, Kepler would
have achieved no success. But fortunately his self-restraint
in this respect was as remarkable as his freedom from all
restraint in theorising. Nothing seemed more incautious
than his theorising ; but then nothing could have been more
cautious than his investigation of his theories, or more
thorough than the tests to which he subjected them.

Galileo was a disciple of the sounder scientific school.
His laboui's, quite as necessary precui-sors of Newton's work
on the physical side as Kepler's on the astronomical, were
conducted on the truest principles. All his theories were
suggested by observation (not one of Kepler's was), and they
were all in turn tested by observation. The operation of
terrestrial gravity in particular (despite the nonsensical story
of Newton and the apple) was thoroughly mastered by
Galileo, applying throughout the method of scientific
research by which all the scientific discoveries of modern
times have been effected. Assuredly Galileo borrowed
nothing from his contemporary, the English Lord Chancellor.

When the way had been duly prepared, Newton entered
on his great task. Let us consider what he did, and how he
did it. A philosopher of the true Baconian type, Flamsteed,
the Astronomer-Royal, was collecting at Greenwich multi-
tudinous observations of the heavenly bodies — a work which
might have gone on, even as the modern meteorological
observations at Greenwich and elsewhere have gone on, till
millions of observed facts had been collected and nothing
learned. Newton, who knew that the planets move accord-
ing to certain laws around the sun, and the moon — not
I'ecognisably under the same laws — round the earth, and
further, that bodies are drawn towards the earth by the
force of terrestrial gravity, was led — not by Flamsteed's
collection of facts, not by gathered facts at all, but by a
happy thought based on pre-established theories — to inquire

August 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO"WLKDGE ♦

219

whether terrestrial gravity might not be an example of a
property possessed by matter itself; whether the earth's
attractive power might not extend to the moon, and be
shaved by the sun in such greater degi'ee as corresponded
with the sun's greater mass.

"While the suggestion of these thoughts was independent
altogether of any such gathering of evidence as the Baconian
method required, the testing of the theory thus suggested
was a work of pure deduction. Observations were employed,
indeed ; but they were such observations as the theory itself
suggested. And the way in which the selection of observa-
tions for this special purpose was determined was not only
deductive, but depended on such deductions as only a man
of Newton's power could have formed.

Newtonascertained, first by means of mathematical methods
of his own devising, that if a force or attraction residing in
the sun determines the movements of the planets according
to the laws ascertained by Kepler, that force must vary
according to the law of tlie inverse squares — that is to say,
the force diminishes as the square of the distance increases.
He calculated what the earth's known atti'active power,
diminishing according to this law, would be at the moon's
distance ; and he found (after a long delay, due to the
inexact observations and measurements of others) that
under an attractive force, so diminishing with distance, the
moon would travel around the earth as she actually does.

But Newton went much further than this. He made
experiments and observations to see if tliis attractive force
resides in all matter, and is always proportional to the mass
or quantity of matter. He then discussed the details of the
moon's movements — peculiarities which had long perplexed
astronomers, liad long afforded them the means, if Bacon
was right, of educing the true theory of her movements, and
had all the time taught nothing.

It was not the consideration ofthe.se peculiarities, not the
induction of these observed facts, which led Newton to the
true theory. On the contrary, the true theory was deduced
from considerations applied to laws already discovered
deductively by others ; and the true theory led Newton to
consider observed facts and peculiarities.

Newton went further, however, even than this. By pure
deduction from his theory he showed that the moon's move-
ments around the earth ought to be affected by certain
minor peculiarities caused by the sun's perturbing action,
and be invited Flamsteed to ascertain if sucli peculiarities
really exist.

Flamsteed, thus guided, was able to supply the required
evidence. As Professor De Morgan well remarked of the
achievement, " Had it not been for Newton, the whole
dynasty of Greenwich astronomers, from Flamsteed to Airy,
might have worked away at nightly observation and daily
reduction without any remarkable result, looking forward,
as to a millennium, to the time when any man of moderate
intelligence was to see the whole explanation " — a time
which would never have come, whatever a believer in the
Baconian method may imagine.

There is no evidence that Newton ever paid attention to
aught contained either in Bacon's " Advancement of Learn-
ing," or in the " Novum Organum." But Newton's work
suffices to make it absolutely certain that if he ever did
weigh Bacon's method he found it wanting, for he followed
a course of the very kind which Bacon had condemned, and
carefully avoided the course Bacon had recommended.
Moreover, as I wrote in 1865, Newton's success afforded a
marked and early illustration of Bacon's error in supposing
his system of philosophy would raise all its followers to one
level, however variou.s might be their talents and capacities.
For of Newton it may justly be said that in genius, as in the
work he accomplished, yenus humanum superavit.

THE STORY OF CREATION.

a plain account of evolution.
By Edward Clodd.

PART n.
CHAPTER YI.—(,Cond,tded.)

3HAT many and serious objections may be
advanced against the theorj' of descent
with modification through variation and
natural selection, I do not deny. I have
endeavoured to give them their full
force." * The sixth, seventh, and tenth
chapters of the " Oiigin of Species " are
proof of this. Darwin shirked no difficulty, and in laying
stress upon whatever told against his theory he made its
foundations more sure. One great, but unduly over-
rated, stumbling-block — the absence of intermediate forms
in the fossil-yielding rocks — has been removed by the dis-
covery of many more connecting links in the long chain of
life than could be expected when we take into account the
small minority of fossils which have escaped the havoc of
the past, and when we remember how much smaller are the
chances in favour of the preservation of the more fragile,
rare, and unstable transitional forms than of the species
which they connect.

Another leading objection, drawn from the barrenness of
hybrids,t as, e.g. of the mule, loses much of its force in view
of the numerous examples to the contrary, both in plants
and animals, as amongst genera of the thistle and of the
laburnum, and as in the cases of fruitful hybrids of sheep
and goats in Chili, and of hares and rabbits in France.^
But, as against natural selection, the real difficulty lies in
the inter-breecUng of species developed by selective breeding
from a common stock. For example, the different species of
pigeons have been developed from the wild rock-pigeon,
and these are fertile with one another, which would seem to
tell in favour of the fixity of species, unless the carrier,
pouter, and tumbler are, after all, to be regarded only as
varieties or subdivisions of species § The matter, however,
is too abstruse for these papers, and, moreover, it has no
weight as against the theory of derivation. We know very
little as to the complex conditions ruling fertility and barren-
ness ; we know that the reproductive organs are peculiarly
sensitive to altered habits and surroundings, and we know
further, that it is through changes in those organs that the
barriers to interbreeding have arisen, and the consequent mul-
tiplication of countless intermediate varieties been arrested.^
Happily, the Darwinian theory has no fatal element of
rigidness in it, and those who would mould it into a dogma
know not what spirit they are of. It admits of alterations
in detail at the behest of fresh facts, and of such correction
of proportion as time alone gives to things new and near.
But the truth of the theory of which it is a subordinate
part will thereby stand out the clearer, and the full accord
of past and present to the oneness of things appear more
manifest.

* " Origin of Species," p. 404.

t "Animals and Plants under Domestication," vol. ii. pp. 130-
156, and chap, six., passim.

% Haeckel's " Historj' of Creation," vol. i., pp. 145-148.

§ No one definition of " species " has satisHed all naturalists, and
the term " variety" is almost equally difficult to define, but, prac-
tically, when a naturalist can unite by means of intermediate links
any two forms, he treats the one as a " variety " of the other, rank-
ing the most common, but sometimes the one first described, as the
" species," and the other as the " variety." Cf. " Origin of Species,"
p. 33.

220

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE

[August 1, 1887.

CHAPTER VII.— SOCIAL EVOLUTION.

Evolution of Mind. — If the theory of Evolution be not a
universal, the germs of decay are in it. And liere we pass
from what is intere.sting to what is of serious import for us,
because if the phenomena of mind are not capable of the
like mechanical explanation as the phenomena of stars and
planets and of vegetable and animal life, Evolution remains
only a specidation to fiiscinate the curious. It can, in that
case, furnish no rule of life or motive to conduct, and
man, " the roof and crown of things," would be the sole
witness against their unity and totality. If there be in him
any faculty which is no part of the contents of the univerte,
if there be anything done by him which lies outside the
range of causation, then the doctrine of the Conservation of
Energy falls to pieces, for man has the power to add to that
which the physicist demonstrates can neither be increased
nor lessened.

The ground covered in former papers need not be
retrodden to show that man is one in ultimate beginnings,
and in the stuff of which he is made, with the meanest
flower that blows, and that in mode of development from
the egg to the adult state there is exact likeness between
him and other mammals. But some repetition of the
process of mental development from the lowest life-forms to
the highest is needful.

"Structure for structure," remarks Professor Huxley, "down to
the minutest microscopical details, the eye, the ear, the olfactory
organs, the nerves, the spinal cord, the brain of an ape, or of a dog,
correspond with the same organs in the human subject. Cut a
nerve, and the evidence of paralysis, or of insensibilit}', is the same
in the two cases ; apply pressure to the brain, or administer a
narcotic, and the signs of intelligence disappear in the one as in the
other. Whatever reason we have for believing that the changes
which take place in the normal cerebral substance of man give rise
to states of consciousness, the same reason exists for the belief that
the modes of motion of the cerebral substance of an ape, or of a
dog, produce like effects." *

But let us begin at the bottom of the life-scale. The
lowest things, being organless, or alike all over, respond
to touch, " the mother-tongue of all the senses," in every
pai't, simply changing their shape from moment to moment.
A step higher we find forms in which unlikenesses in
parts begin to show themselves — e.g., in the formation of
a layer at the surface — and here the responses to the stimuli,
as they are called, become localised, because the movements
of the stimuli take place, like all modes of motion, along
the lines of least resistance. These movements give ri.se to
changes in the structure of the organism, driving the molecules
out of t heir places, and, following in incredibly rapid succession,
finally lay down permanent nerve-tracks, built up of the more
sensitive parts of the skin. All sense-organs, whether the
whiskers of a cat or the eye of a man, all the wondrous net-
work of nerves and the brain itself, have thus originated.
Practice makes perfect ; and, as the result of their
incessant repetitioti, the lowest and simplest nerve-actions,
known as reflex, take place automatically in plants and
animals. Such are the contractions of an amceba or of
the leaves of a mimosa ; breathing, the action of the
heart, winking of the eyes — in short, all actions that are
performed unconsciously, and which are repeated in virtue
of the tendency to do them being innate in the structure
which each organism inherits from its ancestors. Besides
these natural reflex actions, there is a group of artificial
reflex actions which our higher intelligence enables us to
acquire, as the arts of reading, playing instruments, ifec.

As everyone knows, it takes a soldier a long time to learn his
drill— for instance, to put hi mself into the attitude of " attention " at
the instant the word of command Is heard ; but, after a time, the
sound of the word gives rise to the act, whether the soldier be

* Hume, p. 105.

thinking of it or not. There is a story, which is credible enough,
though it may not be true, of a practical joker, who, seeing a dis-
charged veteran carrying liome his dinner, suddenly called out
" Al tention ! " whereupon the man instantlj' brought his hands
down, and lost his mufon and potatoes in the gutter. The drill
had been thorough, and its effects had become embodied in the
man's nervous structure. The possibility of all education is based
upon the existence of this power, which the nervous system
possesses, of organising conscious actions into more or less
unconscious, or reflex, operations.*

Instinct is a higher form of reflex action. The bird makes
its nest or migrates from one zone to another by an unvary-
ing route; the bee builds its six-sided cell; the chick breaks
its way through the shell, balances itself, and picks up
grains of corn ; the new-born babe sucks its mother's breast,
all in virtue of like acts on the part of their ancestors, and
which, arising in the needs of the creature and gradually
becoming instinctive, have not varied during long ages, the
tendency to repeat them being transmitted within the germ
from which bee and bird and man have severally sprung.
But, as Gilbert White remarked more than a century ago,
" the maxim that defines instinct to be that secret induence
by which every species is compelled naturally to pursue at
all times the same way or track without any teaching or
example, must be taken in a qualified sense, for there are
instances in which instinct does vary and conform to the
circumstances of place and convenience." f Herein that
delightful writer, without suspecting what he was conceding
to the brute, indicates where instinct passes into Beason.
For the main difference between the two is that, while the
one is done because the .animal cannot help doing it, the
other is the consciotis adjustment of means to ends, of selec-
tion as the result of reflection. In the one there is no pause,
in the other there is a measurable interval, hence the stimuli
to action are more complex and less rapid, giving time for
that ])erception of likenesses and unlikenesses in things
which is essential to conscious action. Further than this
we need not now follow those processes of chemical changes
in the molecules of the brain which, in ways we know not,
result in consciousness. It suffices to say that whereas the
lower animals, for the most part, start fully equipped for
their functions, and rarely pass beyond them, a few higher
approach man, tomjo intervallo, in having to pass through a
period of helplessness, because the brain and connecting
mental apparatus are not complete at birth.

In this lies the explanation of that capacity for teach-
ableness, for profit from experience, which, although no
special endowment of man, is his in immeasurable degree
compared with the animals nearest to him in development.
And since the knowledge that is gained and the habits that
are acquired in early life abide with us, and determine cha-
racter, therein lies the importance to ourselves and to others
of learning what is true and of cultivating what is good.

Enough has been said to show that, vast as are the
differences between the highest and lowest mental actions,
there is no lireak in the series which, starting with the
reflex movements of an amoeba or of a carnivorous plant,
advances along the line of animal instinct and intelligence,
and ends with the complex movements of the brain of
civilised man, with its infinite modes of response to infinite
stimuli.

Evolution of Society. — Like every other species, man
tends to vary, and also to multiply at a rate beyond the
means of subsistence. Mjriads of human beings perish
every year in a few hours or days after birth; vast numbers
die in early childhood ; wars, j)estilences, famines, and
catastrophes decimate at intervals the populations of
empires. Natural selection weeds out the least fit, and

* Huxley's " Elementary Physiology," p. 306.
t " Natural History of Selborne," Letter Ivi. to Mr. Barrington.

August 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLKDGE ♦

221

although under civilised conditions the weak and diseased
are coddled, and even multiply their kind, this check is too
local to affect the larger result, while that which the race
might gain in physique by its removal is not to be com-
pared to the loss that would ensue from the repression of
mercy and sympathy. In a barbaric society weakliags
like Newton and hu.ichbaeks like Pop3 would have been
left to perish ; civilisation spares them, and humanity is
enriched by their genius.

As the chief difference between man and his nearest
congeners, the highest apss, is in the size and creases of the
brain, brain-capacity being the measure of advance in the
life-scale, it follows that he has reached the topmost place
through the action of natural selection in the modification
of his brain more than of his body, for his erect position
and modifiaition of the fore feet into hands were due to his
superior intelligence, mind ruling function, and function
ruling structure. Whichever among the arboreal creatures
from whom he isdescended possessed any favourable variation,
however slight, in structure of brain and ."iense-organs, would
seciu-e an advantage over less favoured rivals in the struggle
for food and place and mates. The qualities which gave
them success would be transmitted to their offspring, the
distance over their competitors gained in one generation
would be increased in the nest, brainpower conquering
brute force, skill outwitting strength, till the chasm between
man and the highest ape, and ultimately between man
savage and man civili.'ied, became impassable.

For in following the evolution of mind to its highest
operations and results, the compai-ison lies between the
several races of mankind. Darwin says that he does not
believe it possible to describe the difference between savage
and civilised man. " It is the difference between a wild
and tame animal, and part of the interest in beholding a
savage is the .same which would lead every one to desire to
see the lion in his desert, the tiger tearing his prey in the
jungle, the rhinoceros wandering over the wide plains of
Africa." He dc-^cribes the Fuegians, who rank amongst the
lowest savages, as men " whose very signs and expressions are
less intelh'gible to us than those of the domesticated animals — •
men who do not pos,sess the instinct of those animals, nor
yet appear to boast of human reason, or at least of arts
consequent on that reason." • Such i-aces are much nearer
to the ape than to the Caucasian.

The fundamental likeness between the varieties of
man evidence that the physical and mental differences
which mark him from the highest apes had been acquired
before his migration from the place of his origin and
development, wherever that may have been. That migia-
tion, however, occurred long enough ago for the play
of causes effecting the enormous differences just named.
But we can only iijfer from the condition of existing
savages what " primitive " man was like. Doubtless
he was lower than the lowest of these — a biped, with
powerful sense-organs (always keener, in virtue of constant
exercise, in the savage than in the civilised, who supple-
ments them by science), strong instincts, uncontrolled and
fitful emotions, small faculty of wonder and nascent reason-
ing power ; unable to forecast to-mcrrow or to comprehend
yesterday, living from hand to mouth on the wild products
of nature, and finding shelter in trees and caves, ignorant of
the simplest arts, sa\-e to chip a stone missile and, perhaps,
to produce fire, strong in his need of life and vague sense of
right to it and to what he could get, but slowly impelled
by common perils and pa.*sions to form ties, loose and hap-
hazard at the outset, with his kind, the power of combina-
tion with them depending on sound-signs and gestures.

* " Xatoralist's Voyage Round the World," p. oOi.

Such, in broad outline, was probably the general con-
dition of the earliest known wanderers, the relics of whose
presence — rudely-fa.shioned stone tools and weapons — are
found associated with the bones of huge extinct mammals,
as the mammoth and the cave-lion, in old river-beds and
limestone caverns. As the successive deposits and their
contents show, not till long ages had pas,sed, bringing new
and settled conditions, with knowledge of agriculture,
metals, and other useful arts, do we find any marked
progress among mankind. Even that progress, great and
not unchecked, as both ancient and modern civilisations
witness, has been confined to a minority of the species and
to a narrow zone, while, compared to the antiquity of man,
it is but as yesterday. The enterprise of the higher races
has explored and utilised large tracts, and the prR'^sure of
population at the centres of civilisation has within quite
recent periods vastly extended their radii, but whole em-
pires, advancing to a certain stage, have through isolation
and the tyranny of custom, or dread of change, stagnated,
whilst the lowest races have remained unmodified, like the
lowest organisms, and have more or less succumbed before
the imported vices and the weapons of the white man. But
the c luses of arrest and of advance are alike complex ; man,
like every other living thing, is the creature of outward and
inward circumstances, and many influences have worked in
the shaping of his destiny. Certainly, extremes of climate
have been fatal to advance beyond a given stage ; it is in
the temperate zones that the incentives exist to continuous
and indefinite progress.

]\Ian by himself is unprogressive ; therefore his advance
is due to the cultivation of the social instincts. " There is
a wonderful spirit of sociality in the brute creation, inde-
pendent of sexual attachment," wrote Gilbert White in
177."), and Darwin remarks that " the social animals which
stand at the bottom of the scale are guided almost
exclusively, and those which stand higher in the scale are
Largely guided, by special instincts in the aid which they
give to the members of the same community ; but they are
likewise in part impelled by mutual love and sympathy,
assisted apparently by some amount of reason." * In the
degiee that animals are social, we find them higher in the
scale, as ants, bees, and wasps among insects ; and, among
domestic animals, dogs, whose wild ancestors hunted in
packs, as compared with cats, which inherit the more
solitai-y and wandering habits of their wild ancestors.

Man inherits the social instincts of a remote ancestry.
Farther back than the records of his presence take us, he
found strength in unity, and the more so in virtue of his
physical inferiority to many animals. His normal state
was one of conflict, both with them and with his own
species, for Carlyle's remark that " the ultimate question
between every two human beings is, ' Can I kill thee,
or canst thou kill me T " is true of every stage of
man's history. The struggle is all along the line ; it
may change its tactics and its weapons ; among advanced
nations the military method may be more or less super-
seded by the industrial, and men may be mercilessly starved
instead of being mercifully slain, but, be it war of camps or
markets, the ultiiuate appeal is to force, and the hardiest
and craftiest win. But they that have hope of their kind
believe that these shall not always prevail.

W^e do not know what the earliest social unions were like.
Probably there were no family arrangements as we under-
stand the term, but only various kinds of relations, more or
less fugitive, between groups of men and women. The
details, however, do not affect the general fact of social
intercourse, in which community of interest was the binding

* " Descent of Man," p. 109.

999

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1887.

force. Impetus was given to more personal and permanent
relationships by the longer period of infancy in man as
compared with the same period in the man-like apes, in
whom, again, it is much longer than in monkeys.* For as
the maternal instinct " sublimes the passions, quickens the
invention, and sharpens the sagacity of the brute creation," f
so this period of helplessness would draw parent and chOd
closer together, evolving love and sympathy, and developing
those endui-ing and exalting relations of the family which
widened into tribal life. Struggles against common foes
brought the bravest to the front as leaders, turbulent ele-
ments within involved the rule of the ablest, disputes called
for the settlement of the wisest, and thus the foundations
of law and oi-der were laid.

Evolution of Language, the useful Arts, and Science. —
Two things markedly separate man from brute — his erect
attitude, whereby the hand, no longer an organ of
support, is left free to carry out the behests of the
mind ; and language. Not that the " dumb " animals, as
they are called, are all voiceless : many of them have no
small or inexact gamut of sounds by which to express their
emotions, their love-calls, and their danger-cries. But
although these may be not more unintelligible to us than
the language of savages like the Fuegians, which Captain
Cook compared to a man clearing his throat, the fact abides
that language, as the symbol of ideas, as the means of con-
veying thought from mind to mind, marks the impassable
gulf between the mental capacity of man and all lower
animals. Its origin lies in his need to communicate with
his fellows, and but for it all attempts after social union
would have been as the weaving of a rope of sand.

Words themselves reveal under analysis the history of
their origin from a few formless root-sounds, which were
instinctive cries or imitations of various natural sounds,
very largely aided at the outset by signs and gestures. To
this day, gesture-language is the sole mode of communica-
tion between certain wandering tribes of American Indians,
and there are other tribes whose stock of sound-signs is so
limited that they cannot understand each other in the dark.
We can never know what the first sound-signs were like,
but their choice and currency obviously depended on the
success with which they conveyed the meaning of t'lose
who invented them, which, of course, applies to every stage
of language, from the simple names of objects with which it
began to the ultimate transfer of those names to ideas.
For all abstract terms have a concrete base. Certain it is
that from mimetic sounds, with their boundless variety of
modulation, there have been developed not merely the
scanty and shifting speech of the lower races, but the
wondrously rich, copious and ever-growing languages of
civilised races, the sound-carriers not only of man's common
wants, but of the lofty conceptions which are enshrined in
prose and poetry, and without which, now made the common
intellectual wealth of nations through the arts of writing
and printing, how poor and dwarfed would human life
have been I Language has, therefore, followed the common
law of Evolution in advance from the simple to the com-
plex, proving itself to be one of the many instruments
which the skill of man has perfected from raw materials as
his social needs have multiplied and as his intelligence has
inci'eased.

And the like adaptation of means to ends applies to the
development of the useful arts, as well as of those arts in
which the head is more concerned than the hand. The
primal needs of clothing and shelter, of weapons of war and
of the chase — for the sword and bow precede the spade and

• Cf. Fiske's " Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy," li. 342-346.
■j- White's " Selborne." Letter xiv. to Mr. Barrington.

hammer — the need, under more settled conditions, of
implements for the household and the field, set man's wits
at work to supplement and improve that which nature sup-
plies in the rough. Every instrument of his culture bears
traces of its development from simple forms : the spear and
knife-blade from the sharp-edged flint flake ; the saw from
the jagged-edged flake ; the matchlock from the crossbow ;
the warrior's armour from the scaly hide of beasts; the
plough from the stag's antlers or the tree-branch ; the mill
from pounding-stones ; the ship from the scooped-out trunk;
the oar from the hands or feet as primitive paddles ; the
house from the sun-baked clay hut, or, as in China, from
the Tatar tent; the pyramid from the earth-mound or
cairn ; the alphabet from picture-writing ; sculpture and
painting from rude scratchings on bone and horn ; stringed
instruments from the twang of the hunter's bow ; wind in-
struments from the blast of his horn ; poetry and song from-
the rude but impassioned savage chant of love and war ;
arithmetic from primitive perception of more or less; count-
ing and measuring, as shown in our words cubit, ell, foot,
hand, digit, span, and in cognate terms from other languages,
from using the fingers, toes, and other parts of the body ;
geometry, or fa«fi-measuring, from early perceptions of
space ; all science from crude and false guesses about the
nature and causes of things, from illusions of alchemist and
astrologer, which made attainment of the truth more
possible to chemist and astronomer ; and so on through the
whole range of man's social and intellectual development.

COAL.

By W. Mattieu Williams.

NDERGROUND ventilation presents pro-
blems of great practical difficulty, A tho-
rough searching and abundant flow of air
through every main road, cross road, and
by-way in a coalpit is a stern necessity, a
matter of life and death. Not only the
exhalations from the lungs and bodies of the
men and horses, and the products of combustion of the
lights have to be removed, but also the gases from the coal
itself. These at times burst out in violent jets ; some of
them are inflammable, others suffocating, and all must be
swept away.

If we should judge by the usual failure of our architects
and Iniilders to secure the steady and uniform ventilation of
public and private buildings, the satisfactory ventilation of
a coal mine would appear practically impossible. The air
for the mine has to be all carried down artificially ; in some
cases to perpendicular depths of a quarter of a mile below
the surface, and has to proceed in a complex, zigzag,
winding journey, all round every side — north, south, east,
west, and all intermediate points ; down the middle and up
again ; through low- roofed passages extending to an
aggregate length measurable in miles ; and then it must
climb up again, bearing with it all the pestiferous gases
and vapours it has encountered in the course of its long
journey.

As an illustration of this, I will repeat the figures I have
already quoted when writing on " Domestic Ventilation " in
an early number or Knowledge. They are from the Report
of the Lords' Committee on Coal Mine Accidents in 1849.
At the Hetton Colliery the quantity of air carried down
amounted to 108,560 cubic feet per minute. Its rate of
motion was 1 2 miles per hour. The main current was cut
into 16 splits or subdivisions of about 11,000 cubic feet
per minute each, and having on an average a course of

AuGrsT 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

223

4-|- miles each. The greatest length of a single coui-se wras
9.[L mUes. The total distance travelled was 70 miles. All
these quantities are now greatly increased in the larger
mines of the present day. As much as 300,000 cubic feet
per minute is in some ca^es supplied.

Much ingenuity has been expended on the inyention of
huge air-pumps and fans for the ventilation of co.il mines.
Many have been patented, and a few actually used, rather
in small continental mines than in the lai'ger collieries of
this country. The steam-jet has also been applied. But
the most successful agent, the giant whose services can be
obtained at the smallest wage, is gravitation. The bunglers
of domestic ventilation seem to forget, or not to have
learned, that air is heavy, and becomes of itself a directly
available ventilating engine by its accommodating valuation
of weight in proportion to bulk. The simple principle upon
which colliery ventilation is conducted, and other ventilation
should be conducted, may be illustrated by the following
experiment.

Place a few layers of paper on a table, and on this a
lamp-chimney — the use of the paper is to afford a cushion
on which the bottom of the chimney shall rest without air
space between it and the table. Then take a eandle-end
about an inch long, light it, and place it on the paper with
the chimney over it. In spite of the open top of the chim-
ney, the candle will be suffocated for lack of air — will flicker
and struggle, and finally become extinguished by its own
exhalations if the chimney is above six or eight inches high
and the candle is placed fairly in the middle of the chimney.
Repeat this more than once to prove that the extinction is
not accidental.

Now cut a piece of metal (card will do if slightly
moistened and carefully used) of T shape, with the stem of
the T nearly as wide and long as the lamp-chimney, and
the cross top just sufficient to serve as a rest, so that the
broad stem may hang down and divide the tube into two
equal partitions, extending from the candle-wick upwards.
Jsow relight the candle and place the glass chimney thus
divided into two pai-titions over the candle as before. The
flame will presently take itself to one side or other of the
dividing partition, and, having once done so, wDl remain on
that side and burn freely, though occupying an apartment
with only half the air space of that in which it was pre-
viously smothered.

If the experimenter is one of those wicked people who
smoke tobacco, a puff from his pipe or cigar directed to the
top of the divided chimney will demonstrate at once the
reason of the change. The smoke will be forcibly dragged
down that side on which the flame of the candle is not, will
turn rapidly round the lower edge of the partition, and then
rapidly ascend on the side in which the flame of the
candle is.

The rationale of this is simple enough. When the chim-
ney is divided by the partition and without the candle
flame, there are two columns of air communicating below,
one on each side of the partition. So long as these are of
equal temperatiu-e, and consequently of equal weight, they
balance each other and remain at rest ; but when the candle
is lighted and its flame takes to one side or the other, that
side is heated and expanded. There is less air in a given
space on that than on the other side, and consequently the
heavier column presses up the lighter, which thus ascends
by virtue of the impulse given to it by the preponderating
gravitation of the cooler air in the other partition.

When the chimney is undivided the candle-flame raises
all the air within it to a higher temperature than the outer
air, and therefore this denser outer air proceeds to sink
below the Hghter air ; but in doing so it encounters the
uprising heated air. A struggle ensues between the directly

opposed currents in the confined space. The flame of the
candle indicates this very instructively. It has sunk down
nearly to extinction, when presently it starts up vigorously,
being blown aside at the same moment. This is when its
feeble heating power permitted a downcast of fresh air on
one side or other, but the greater this downca.^t, the greater
the uprising and consequent resistance to fresh downcast,
and thus, after a series of near approaches to death and
sudden revivals, the flame at last expires.

The lamp chimney in this experiment represents the
shaft of a coalpit divided as coalpit shafts formerly were
divided in this country by a brattice, and as they ai-e still
divided in other countries where human life is held less
sacred than capital. I have already referred to the
accident which was mainly instrumental in bringing about
this legislation, but an interesting letter I have received
from a reader of Knowledge (who writes from Hetton-le-
Hole, and e\'idently understands what he is writing about)
tells me that I made a mistake in attributing the wreck of
the brattice to a .swing of the cage. As the catastrophe is
historical and instructive, and my mistake was derived
from a published account that must mislead othere, I will
quote the letter. Mr. iloon (or Jloor) says : " The real
cause of the melancholy accident (which took place on
January IG, 1862, causing the loss of 202 lives) was the
fracture of the cast-iron beam of the puniping-engine, and
the consequent precipitation of its outer end (weighing
about twenty-two tons) down the pit shaft. It carried
away the wooden brattice, pumps, and the pit work gener-
ally, and blocked up the shaft to a depth of about 138
yards from the surface, where the downward course of the
debris was arrested by the oak buntons on which the
middle set of pumps rested. Evei-j' effort was of course
made to rescue the imprisoned men, but it was found im-
possible, so great was the wreck, to clear the shaft in time,
and the result was that the whole of them succumbed to
suffocation by the carbonic acid gas."

The death of these poor fellows by suffocation in spite of
the large space of main roads, cross roads, and workings,
demonstrates the absolute necessity of continuous and
sweeping ventilation. This disaster further proves the
terrible risk to which the whole population of a colliery is
exposed wherever there is but one shaft — one outlet. Any
accident whatever, and there are many that may occur,
which closes this one outlet or damages its hauling and
ventilating machinery, leaves them imprisoned in a dreadful
tomb, in a position to which no demands of trade or commerce
or other men's luxury should wilfully render them liable.
Therefore our legislature justly ordered that thenceforth no
colliery shall be worked with less than two shafts, so that if
one should be disabled, the other remains available for
escape.

A second shaft being now compulsory, neither is bratticed,
and one is used for the descending, the other for ascending
cmTcnt, or, in technical language, one is a downcast, the
other an upcast shaft.

In some cases it is possible to obtain a natural downcast
and a natural upcast without any artificial aid. This best
occiu's when the dip or slope of the coal-seam is in the con-
trary direction to that of the surface slope. It is possible
whenever they differ, but the greater the difference the
better. Let us suppose that the coal-seam is level and the
sm-face sloping, the required difference is obtainable by
sinking two shafts down to the coal — one where the coal
is nearest to the surface, and the other where it is much
deeper. Thus we should have two shafts of unequal depths,
and consequently bearing columns of air of unequal
heights.

In workings of moderate depth the underground tern-

224

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1887.

perature remains all the year round at tbe mean temperature
of the air above ; at gi-eater depths it increases about 1° to
60 or 70 feet. In the first case the aii' of the pit will be
cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter than the air
above. Let us suppose, for example, that the depth of one
.shaft from the surface is 600 feet and that of the other
100 feet. Both shafts convey to the workings below the
general pressure of the gi-eat atmospheric ocean. But the
column in the deeper shaft is made up of 600 feet of iinder-
gi-ound air supplemented by the outer air, while the shallower

pit has but 100 feet of underground air, and makes up the
equivalent 600 by 500 more of outer air.

Therefore, if the outer air is denser than the undergi-oimd
ail' (as in winter time), the pressure in the 100-feet shaft
will preponderate, and vice versa in the summer, when at a
given level the column of air pressing through the deeper
shaft includes .500 feet of denser underground air in the
place of 500 feet of warmer outer air that is pressing through
the 100-feet shaft. For reasons presently to be explained,
such automatic ventilation is but little used in coalpits.

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

MAP I

The Imear scale radiaJfy ij xcniform.
'dvaughout ; Ow fhyfort scale is

and. byh*- at th£ edge .

"^>-J«

Jcale ofMilea at centre of -nujp

En^ ah Miles

Sjriall. ar^as are greater hyP^s^luiJtf
way toihe edge, o/ui hy /^4,*^ a4t
ffie ed^e .

August 1, 18B7.]

♦ KNOV\rLEDGE ♦

225

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP X.— Fob JULY, AUGUST, and SEPTEMBER.

TUB Night Skies in the Southern Hemispheee (Lat. -46' to 24° S.)

AND THE
SOUTHERN SKIES IN ENGLAND (UPPEE HALF OF MAP ONLY) AT THE FOLLOWING TIMES:

At 1 o'clock, morning, Aug. 7.
„ 12.30 „ „ Aug. 14.

„ Midnight, Aug. 22.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, Aug. 29.

At 11 o'clock, night, Sept. 6.
„ 10.30 „ ., fept. 14.

„ 10 „ „ Sept. 21.

„ 9.30 „ „ Sept. 29.

At 9 o'clock, night, Oct. 7.

„ 8.30 „ „ Oct. 15.

8 „ „ Oct. 22.

" 7.30 „ „ Oct. 30.

First

Second

Stae Magnitudes.
K- Third . . . . *

Fourth

Fifth . . . t-

226

♦ KNOVS^LEDGE

[August 1, 1887.

IMPROVING SHAKESPEARE.

Bv Benvolio.
WAS ti very small boy when I made my first
emendation on Shakespeare, and, though it was
quite wrong, I think it was not much more
faulty than some of those which the learned
Bentley made on IMilton's text, and which the
most profound Shakespeareans have ventured
on the text of Shakespeare. My emendation
was made on the text of " Twelfth Night." A passage in
that most charming comedy perplexed my young mind, viz.,
where Ophelia says, " Paiclesby, begone 1 " I wondered who
Rudesby was. Might it not be Fabian's other name? But
the list of dranuais persona: said simply Fabian. Then the
idea presented itself that Shakespeare had probably written
" Rude spy, begone 1 " This made everything clear. Olivia
is still addressing Sir Toby. She has already told him to be
off, as " fit only for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
where manners ne'er were preached ; " but manifestly he has
lingered, so she turns from Cesario (i.e. Sebastian), and,
seeing Sir Toby still contemplating them, calls her kinsman
very naturally a rude spy.

It were to be wished that all Shakespearean emendations
were as natural and as little forced. The change of one
letter is slight comijared with some of the changes they
have asked for. Even when " a table of green fields "
was altered into " a' babbled of green fields," beautiful
though this emendation undoubtedly was, a certain daring
was shown.

My emendation was quite wrong, however, though I held
to it for many years. 'The real interpretation of the line is
curious. The word " rudesby " is still in use in the part of
England where Shakesfjeare was born. I cannot say I have
heard it myself, but, talking a few years ago with Mr.
Christie Murray, who is a Warwickshire man, I learnt
from him that the expression is quite commonly used in
Shakespeare's county for a lout, a coarse, rude fellow. How
widely the use of the expression extended in Shakespeai-e's
time, I do not know ; but quite probably the word was as
distinctly provincial in his day as now, though he may not
have suspected it.

I have learnt since those early Shakespearean days of
mine to look with much doubt on attempts to remove difli-
culties in Shakespeare's plays Ijy verbal, or even by literal
changes — at least until a very resolute effort has been made
to find an interpretation for the words as they stand. The
edition of Shakespeare I read when nine years old certainly
encouraged attempts at vei'bal and literal emendation. The
plays came out in penny numbers — not so cheap as the
wonderful ninepenny (nominally shilling) Shakespeares now
obtainable in England, but in those days a daring experi-
ment. The penny plays did not exactly form an a/it ion de
luxe. How well I remember the varied tints of the paper
covers I I had a notion that in some way they indicated
the nature of the play, till a re-issue abruptly shook my
faith by offering " Othello " in the lilac-tinted cover which I
had thought appropriate (goodness knows why I) for the
" Taming of a Shrew " ; while " A Comedy of Errors " ap-
peared in the dark blue cover in which the anguish of the
" Moor of Venice " had been before enwrapped. The text
was not by any means pure. I remember that I learnt
the j)art of Aufidius for parlour recitation, my elder brother
being Coriolanus (awful nuisances we must both have been,
I imagine), and I brought the house down (very likely they
were only waiting a decent excuse for laughing) by de-
nouncing the fraternal Coriolanus as " insolvent villain 1 " —
so my text, however, had it. Only five lines before, the
Secouil Lord, represented for the occasion by a sister.

had perplexed the auditors by remarking, equally' with
the authority of our penny Shakespeare, that Coriolanus
" is noble, and his fame folds in this orb : 0 the earth " — a
statement which I imagine no one on " this orb o' the
earth " could interpret as our Second Lord announced it.

The emendation mentioned above, by which Mrs. Quickly
is made to say that Falstaff's " nose was as sharp as a pen,
and a' babbled of green fields," has justly been regarded as
very happy, yet (perhaps because I am prejudiced against
such emendations) I doubt if Shakespeare ever wrote that.
Somehow that heavy' spondaic ending " green fields " sounds
unlike Shakespeare, at least in such a poetic passage. Then,
is not the touch too fine for such a woman as Mrs. Quickly?
Shakespeare might have put such a saying in the mouth of
a Kent talking of Lear's last thoughts. He might even
have pictured a worthier person than Mrs. Quickly recalling
such thoughts of the dying Falstaff, unlike though they
were to anything lie had spoken about while before us in the
fulness of his jolly wickedness; for many a man of similar
life has wandered back in that way in his dying moments to
his boyhood's purer thoughts. But if Falstaff had had such
thoughts old Quickly would not have talked of them. She
recalled his remark that " women were devils incarnate "
with the appropriate explanation (for her) that " a' could
never abide carnation ; 'twas a colour he never liked," and,
moreover, that " he was rheumatic " (a line in " Venus and
Adonis " shows we must accent the first syllable), and so
knew not what he was saying. But nowhere does Mrs.
Quickly say anything to match with the tender thought, "he
babbled of green fields." She would have put such thoughts
from him, and afterwards from her own mind, just as when
he called on God she told him, " To comfort him, a' should
not think of God ; there was no need to trouble himself with
any such thoughts yet." [Here, by the way, seems further
reason for thinking that he had not begun to babble.] In the
folio, which contains the first complete edition of the play
(" Henry V."), we have the apparently unintelligible words,
"His nose was as sharj^ as a pen, and a table of greene
fields." It has been suggested that the true reading is " on
a table of greene frieze," but the frieze is objectionable.
Why not simply " on a table of greene fields " 1 The word
" field " for a blank coloured space, was in much more
common use formerly than now. The reader will remember
the Black Knight's shield in " Ivanhoe," bearing a sh.ackle-
bolt on an azure field ; and it is known that heraldic terms
were once in very common use. The emendator who sug-
gested " on " for " and " said, very justly, that it would be
quite in Mrs. Quickly's way, having been reminded of a pen
as sharp-looking, to recall the occasion when the pen
had been seen by her which suggested the comparison,
the greenish table, perhaps, being called to her recollection
by Falstafl"s pallor. Her remark would then simply mean,
his nose looked as sharp as a pen such as I once saw lying
on a table of green field-tints— that is, of green back-
ground.

That this would be in Mrs. Quickly's manner, and,
therefore, more Shakespearean than the other reading,
though not so poetical, cannot be doubted. Consider the
way in which, whenever she tells of anything, she runs off
into all sorts of side-recollections ; as, for example, " Marry,
thou did.st swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet — sitting in
my dolphin chamber — at the round table— by a sea-coal
fii-e — upon Wednesd.ay in Whitsun week — when the Prince
broke thy head for liking his father to a singing man of
Windsor." And, ag:iin, "Did not Goodnife Keech, the
butcher's wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly?
coming in to borrow a mess of vmegar — telling us she had a
good dish of prawns — whereby thou didst desire to eat some
■ — whereby I told thee they were ill for a green wound."

August 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

227

So wandering is Dame Quickly's mind, indeed, and so
cle;irly has Shakespeare ah-eady shown this, that I am not
sure we need even change a word. From her such a saying
as " his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a table of green
fields," would he iiitelligible, though not from any person of
coherent ideas; if this is not admitted, and we change " and "
to " on," it may be said the change is as great as from
" table " to " babbled " ; but the former mistake is one
which a compositor would be much more likely to make
than the other. No one would ever think of altering " a'
baVjbled of green fields " into " a table of green fields " if he
had read the woids aright ; whereas it would be a common-
place and fi\miliar sort of mistake to set up " and " for
"on." As regards reading the passage right, it should be
remembered that Shakespeare would have written the word
"table" with a capital " T," but " babbled" with a small
" b." (The double "b" does not count, I must admit,
for " babble " was written " bable " in Shakespaire's
time.

On the whole, however, the strongest objection against
the poetical "babbling of green fields" is that it is far
too poeticivl for Mrs. Quickly, it was wholly beyond her
nature to have described Falstaff's wanderings so touch-
ingly.*

And here I may notice what I take to be a wholly faulty
objection taken by many, and in particular by Charles
Reade (in " Hard Cash "), to the familiar simile in the best
known of Hamlet's soliloquies, where the Prince speaks of
taking up " arms against a sea of troubles." What arms 1
asks Eeade ; " I su])pose buoys and a cork jacket," or words
to that effect. It does not seem to be noticed when such
objections are made that it is Hamlet, not Shakespeare, who
is soliloquising. Hamlet may not be mad, though I myself
cannot see how the theory of his being wholly sane axn be
maintained by any one who notes that it was immediately
after he had seen the Ghost, and long before he could have
formed any deliberate plan of simulating madness, that his
wild and whirling words are first heard ; but he is assuredly
much perturbed in spirit. Apart from this, though we call
the passage a soliloquy, and though it is always delivered as
such, Ophelia is present all the time. If Hamlet's madness
is wholly assumed, yet the assumption would not be thrown
oflfhere; and as a matter of fact UpheUa throughout the
scene deems Hamlet mad, saying the monient he leaves,
" O what a noble mind is here o'erthrown ! " Now, for
Shakespeare, composing a sonnet, to speak of " taking arms
against a sea of troubles " would doubtless be false poetry;
but for the much-perturbed Hamlet, in the presence of one
whom he would have regard him mad, to speak in that way
would be altogether a true dramatic rendering of the posi-
tion. The words would not even be utterly " wild and
whirling " ; they would only wander enough from exactness
to correspond with Hamlet's state of mind, actual as well
as in part assumed.

There is a passage in the .same play which has exercised

* It is absolutely certain that the passage should not be left and
understood precisely as it stands in the folio. Remembering that
Shakespeare repeatedly uses " table " or " tablet," or any small
surface on which marks or colouring may be put, while in liis time
a patch of colour was called a field, may we not understand the
words, "his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a table of greene
fields ' to mean simply, " his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a mere
tablet of green spots " ? In other words, having given her unpoetical
account of the shape of Falstaff's nose, Mrs. Quickly adds an
equally ridiculous description of its colour. Shakespeare represents
Falstaff as dying of a sweat — that is, of the sweating sickness -and
In that disease no such changes of colour took place. Bacon
expressly says there were neither purple nor livid spots. But this
was probably not known to Shakespeare, as the sweating sickness
died out finally in 1551.

commentators, and led to the invention of multitudinous
new readings, though it needs in reality no change whatever,
and if a little confused or rather, I should say, complicated,
can yet te quite readily and reasonably interpreted. Osric
has just, in elaborate phrase, praised Laertes— so elaborately
that Horatio presently asks whether they might not as well
speak in " another tongue." But before saying this Hamlet
mimics the idiotic jjhrases of Osric, in the remarkable
answer beginning, " Sir, his definement suflers no perdition
in you : though, I know, to divide him inveutorially would
dizzy the arithmetic of memory ; and yet but yaw neither,
in respect of his quick sail." (This exquisite fooling is not
in the foho, the Hamlet in which was edited from a play-
house transcript.) Does not some dullard, whose arithmetic
of reason must liave been grievously dizzied, propose the
substitution of " raw " for " yaw " 1 — turning complication
into sheer nonsense. Repeatedly one sees this passage
quoted as manifestly corrupt, and sometimes as hopeles.sly
corrupt. Many alterations have been suggested, though I
think nothing quite so idiotic as " raw " for " yaw " has ever
been proposed. In reality no change is necessarv. Osric
has been mixing up his ideas and his metaphors in the most
preposterous fashion ; Hamlet, therefore, does the like.
Definement, perdition, inventory, dizzying, arithmetic, and
memory — surely after mixing these in the compass of three
lines he may be expected to start yet another idea in the
rest of the sentence. The " quick sail " shows that he has
done so ; and the sea term " yawing " belongs to this new
idea. It may not be so familiar in our mouths to-day as it
was in men's mouths in Shakespeare's time, when all men
talked of the doings of the sea-dogs who made Eliz;ibeth's
days famous for all time. Many an English buccaneer had
seen the big Spaniard that sailed in pursuit "yaw "as he
punished her about the bows with ball and bullet — not
wholly giving up the chase, but leaving her course as his
blows fell on her cumbrous prow and forecastle. (For only
a steady crew can steer a shij) truly under such conditions.)
Such a man, describing the chase afterward — very likely
Shakespeare had heard many a yarn of the kind — would tell
how the pursuing ship crowded all sail, and came on
in swift pursuit, "yet but yaw as ne pounded her bows,
and so fell astern in respect of our quick sail." That
is just what Hamlet, mixing his metiiphors, means. " Sir,"
he says, " he suflers no loss as you define him ; though I
know to set out all his qualities as in an inventory would
grievously tax the memory, and even then fall behind, so far
ahead of all praise do his abilities take him."

The curious passage about knighthood in the " Merry
Wives of Windsor " is another of those which seems to me
to have been needlessly dealt with as difiicult. Mi-s. Ford
has said she "could be knighted " (playing on the words) ;
Mrs. Page pretends to understand her to mean that she
might hei'self be made a knight, and answers, " What 1 thou
liest " (mid-county English for " you lie under a mistake ").
" Sir Alice Ford ! these knights will hack ; and so thou
shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry." A commen-
tator says the word " hack " refers to hacking ofi' a knight's
spurs in token of disknighting. This is nonsense ; Shake-
speare had no such meaning. ]\Irs. Page would hardly
have suggested that a woman knight would be received by
other knights with contumely, and rejected from their order.
The word " hack " is used in its other sense, quite familiar in
Shakespeare's time, the sense of growing common. She
says, in fact, these knights will soon be so common that a
simple gentleman will have better standing ; so keep you to
your gentry, not going in for knighthood. (Shakesjieare
uses the word " hackney " in " Love's Labour's Lost," and
" hackneyed " in the first part of " King Henry IV.")

A passage which has given rise to much dispute is that

228

KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1887.

in which Lenox, speaking of Macbeth's attempt to 6x
Duncan's murder on the princes, Duncan's sons, says : —

Who cannot want the thought how monstrous
It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain
To kill their gracious father ?

This, say the commentatois, sliould clearly have been,
"Who can want the thought V and a score or so of sug-
gested changes have been proffered. In reality it seems
clear Shakespeare wrote the passage just as it stands. Nor
does the simple meaning of the words seem unnatural or
farfetched. " Who is there" so unapt to think justly that
he cannot (that as it were, he is not canny enough to) wish
to entertain the thought that it was most monstrous for the
princes to kill their father, though we as courtiers m^ist not
think in that way. Of course, this way of speaking is a
trifle strange, but then the whole of Lenox's speech is
strangely toned. " 'Twould have angered any heart alive
to hear the men deny 't," he says of the grooms, whom
Macbeth accused of the murder and killed — a quaint way of
indicating his own opinion that Macbeth murdered them
that they might have no chance of denying the charge, and
so throwinw the guilt on him.

THE

SATURDAY REVIEW" ON LUCK.

By Richard A. Proctor.

' We " have the receipt of fern-seed; "we" walk invisible; —
as in a castle "cocksure." — Shakespe^EB.

HE Saturday Review informs me that my
little book, " Chance and Luck," does all
that I hoped it would do, all that I wanted ;
nor do I feel intense sorrow when I learn
from the same infallible .source that my book
fails to achieve a result which no man in
his senses would ever hope to accomplish.
I strove to show those who are not wholly
foolish the folly of gambling and speculation by presenting,
as a matter of simjsle evidence, the risks to which they
expose themselves, and this, the Saturdai/ Review condescends
to tell me, I have done satisfactorily. " Mr. Proctor is
valuable in his handling of ' martingales,' in his refutation
of the incalculably mischievous doctrine of the 'maturity of
the chances ' ; in one particular point Mr. Proctor comes
out in a way that if not novel is ceitainly not common " ;
moreover, " some of his demonstrations, such as that of the
danger of certain popular kinds of Stock Exchange gam-
bling and tlie like, are decidedly useful."

But, surgit amari aliquid, in a Saturday Revieiv
critique, " Certain old fallacies of the mathematical expos-
tulator with those who gamble " are " as rife as ever in Mr.
Proctor's work " ; perhaps even " they are more rife than
ever, owing to Mr. Proctor's well-known ' cocksureness,' and
his constitutional inability to conceive that any one who
differs with {sic) him can possibly be right."

In passing, though far from me be the presumption of
imagining that a Saturday Reviewer can possibly be mistaken,
I have been so much in the habit of doubting my own con-
clusions— so careful in lectures, essays, and books to suggest
caution and introduce again and again expressions of doubt
— that I rather wonder how I come to be well known for
" cocksureness." I know the Hampdens and Parallaxes,
against whom I have had to maintain the cocksureness of
certain scientific theories which are not mine, think me
"cocksure " to a degree. But I doubt if even a Saturday
Reviewer, in one of his most rampant moods, could point to
a case in which I have been "cocksure" about anything

not admitting of mathematical demonstration — like the
Copernican theory on the larger scale and the solar theory
of tlie corona, or the selections of stations for observing
Venus transits, on the smaller. A reviewer, however, who
expostulates with all " mathematical expostulators," and
that, too, about matters purely mathematical, ought to know
a good deal about cocksureness* Indeed, one would be
disposed to exclaim just here, were not the quotation some-
what musty, Quis tulerit Oracchos de seditione qiierentes'i
If a Saturday Revieui critic can be capped for cocksureness,
where in creation is the cocksure customer who can cap
him?

This, however, is a digression.

The modest reviewer goes on to remark that, like all the
mathematicians whom he ever knew to discourse on chance
and luck, " Mr. Proctor appears to be under a delusion as to
the actual meaning of the notion — the superstition, if he
likes — of luck." (Of course it is not conceivable that all the
mathematicians may bo right, and the Saturday Revievi
mistaken, about this notion or superstition.) Where I and
all the mathematicians have gone wrong, it appears, is in
overlooking the fact that the man who buys a ticket in a
lottery, or wagers money on a horserace, does it because he
has a chance of getting a large sum by risking a small one,
and is not troubled by the circumstance that he has to pay
more than the true mathematical value of his chance.
" Stranger," said a western farmer to a man who reasoned
with his son about the folly of intemperance, " your argey-
ments air all right, and I ain't no fault to find with the
way you put 'em, ef you was a reasoning with any one else;
where you slip up is, you ain't nary a notion what a
doggoned fool you're a talking to." That farmer, though,
probably knew his son better than the temperance man did;
whereas I think I show in my book a tolerably clear
apineciation of the folly of gamblers. Again and again I
dwell on the very point on which the Saturday Review
insists, rightly enough, except in jiretending to correct
me about it. The demoralisation on which I dwell so
persistently throughout my book is most clearly shown by
the very circumstxnce that men bite so blindly when ofl'ered
a chance of a large prize for a small sum risked. " Gambling,"
says the Saturday Ri'view, "is ju.stified of her children,"
because the chances of growing rich are not offered them at
mathematical odds, though if they were plentiful at those
odds " Mr. Proctor would be right in denouncing the folly
of those who take them at other " odds. But, as a matter
of fact, I have not denounced the folly of those who take
chances at unfair odds, but the iniquity of those who offer
them ; and I have urged as the chief reason of my denuncia-
tion that, in so doing, the rascals take advantage of that
very weakness which the Saturday Revieui says I overlook.

Mr. Richard Babley, better known as " Mr. Dick," when
asked to explain a certain piece of folly, said he supposed it
was done " for pleasure." The Saturday Revieio explains
with equal simplicity that gamblers play their foolish tricks
for profit. But Mr. Dick was a little crazed ; a Saturday
Review critic should know better.

My critic says " in vain " do mathematicians show that in
a series of mathematically equal chances some must re-
peatedly win largely and others as repeatedly lose. A man
might accept this, it seems, and yet be a firm believer in
luck and a confirmed gambler. Of course he might ; there
is no limit to the possible inconsistencies and incongruities
of gambling. Yet even such a fool as my critic imagines

* If I repeat this hateful word it is perhaps chiefly because the
Satiirdai/ Jieview attributes to me "crudity of phrase," and I want
to show how curiously crude is my critic's own phraseology. It is
a compliment to be corrected for crudity of phrase by a writer of
so strange a taste in such matters.

August 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^WLEDGE ♦

229

would hardly reason (save the mark !) as this pirticular
fool is supposed to do. " I say that some, perhaps not all, of
these men will be lucky men. I can't prove it. You can't
disprove it. My belief and your demonstration are in
different planes, and don't touch each other." Mr. Dick
could hardly beat this " mystical order of thought," as my
critic very properly calls his nonsense. How can such a
matter be better dealt with, if mathematical reasoning is
rejected, than by actual trial ? The test Itas been applied
in multitudes of cases, and always with results confii-ming
the mathematical theory of the matter. Yet for the general
public there is, perhaps, no better answer to the Salu7-Jay
Eeviexrer's suggestion that there are not only men who have
been lucky (as I point out), but men whose luck is some-
thing which may be depended on (which is what I and all
mathematicians deny), than the well-known fact that not
one of the gambling and speculating herd who have been
noted as examples of long-continued luck has failed to come
to grief in the long run. I exclude, hieii enten'ht, those
who have been called lucky, but have in reality been simply
rascals. They often grasp their ill-gotten gains to the
bitter end.

With characteristic impertinence the Saturday Beview,
in beginning to comment upon the morality of gambling,
speaks of that as ground into which, as it is not mine, I had
no business to venture. I should like to know why this
ground is not a-; much mine as it is any one else's 1 Can
those who glibly quote, " Xe sulortiltra crepidani" give any
reason for saying that one man has a better right than
another to deal with moral questions? — always excepting
criminals, and perhaps certain classes of critics. Questions
of morality are fair subjects for all honest men to deal with,
and I have yet to lexrn that the study of science is calcu-
lated to warp a man's moral nature so that he would be apt
to decide wrongly about moi-al questions. So far as my
critic's arguments are concerned, however, they may be dis-
posed of by the simple admission that they would be just
enough if I had maintained gambling to be criminal,
instead of merelj^ suggesting that it is immoral. The
reviewer does not seem to understand what is meant by
morality. (For example, it is immoral, but not criminal,
to pervert the truth.) That he sneers, however, at 'Mr.
Herbert Spencer, while he jeers at my views about the
morality of gambling, would tend considerably to console
me if I needed consolation, which, somehow, I scarcely seem
to do.

My critic honestly thinks, I dare say, that he has me on
the horns of the whist dilemma he offers me. If betting
with superior knowledge is unfair, how about " Mr.
Proctor's fondness for whist? Ts not the superiorl}'
knowing whist-player fi-audulent ? " And if the whist-
player is honest who wins money through his superior skUl,
must not the bettor who offers or asks odds such as he knows
to be incorrect be honest, too ? I need not, so far as I am
personally concerned, select either horn of the dilemma.
For all my whist-playing for money, limited as it has
been, has been against equal skill or, in my salad days,
against skill superior to my own. When I ai-gued, as my
critic quotes, that " if inferior players choose to play on
equal terms, they do it at their own risk," I was considering
my own case when, rather than spoil a rubber, I have con-
sented to play for sixpenny or even (!) shilling points, in a
company unwilling to play for " love." Since I have
learnt something of the strategy of the game I have only
twice consented to play for even shilling points. On one
occasion I met three of the strongest players of the Man-
hattan Club, New York, and on the other three players of
the Xew Orleans, one of my opponents being Mr. Trist, the
inventor of the American leads, 80 much admired by

"Cavendish." (It may interest readers to know that I
won about as much in one encounter as I lost in the other.)
The only club I have ever cared to join played threepenny
points and sixpence on the rubber, and I was present at
barely one of their weekly meetings in ten. In all my
journeys at sea, since I learnt .something of the game, I
have declined to play even for sixpenny points.*

Dealing with my critic's remaining comments, I need
remark only that, while he does not think my book likely
to do much good, he asserts the unlikelihood, nay, almost
denies the possibility, that any book on chance can do much
good unless written " by one prepared to admit to the full
the existence of ' luck ' " — a novel idea indeed 1

Summing up his criticism as an example of the average
Saturday Review style, I note that —

First, this critic lightly ascrites " cocksurenefs " to me,
who have again and again expressed doubts about my own
views, or have modified them as occasion suggested, while
himself exhiliiting cocksureness in such amazing degi'ee as
to reject the verdict of " all the mathematicians " who have
ever dealt with the subject of probabiUties — though this is
a subject purely mathematical, and about which he himself
manifestly knows nothing 1

Secondly, he attributes crudity of phrase to me, though
citing no instances ; but he shows the value of his opinion
on such points by using in short articles such crude phrases
as " cocksureness," " mathematical expostulator," " superiorly
knowing," " ex hypothesi uncircumventible," " aleatory
pleasure" (for love of dicing), "cocksureness," ttc, to say
nothing of such sheer blunders as " differing with " for
"differing from," "stark man" for "powerful rea.soner,"
" valuable " for " effective," and the like.

Thirdly, while pretending to regret that probably my
Iwok will not keep many from gambling or protect many
from dishonesty, the Saturday Review deliberately justifies
the gambling spirit, and even encourages that more obvious
immoi-ality, the practice of wagering, speculating, and gam-
bling generally, with superior knowledge of the probable
event.

Fourthly, pretending to reason about right and wrong, my
critic does not hesitate to attribute to me ideas (such, for
instance, as my supposed wrong notions about the hopes
actuating gamblers who trust in luck) which he must well
know that I have not expressed, but the reverse.

Such, on the average, is Saturday Review criticism, unless
a special aversion is to be wronged, as when Mr. Herbert
Spencer is attacked, or its great political bete noire is to be
insulted, or else some special friend is to be puffed, as when
certain capital books for boys are foisted on the public as
great works of imagination.

As to the ideas I have advanced in " Chance and Luck,"

* I h?.ve taken considerable interest in watching the progress of
play with a very keen opponent— an excellent player of his own
hand — in order that I might recognise how far tlie effects of chance
(often very marked in an evening's or even in a week's play) are
corrected in the long run. My wife and I (she is the best player of
her sex I have ever known) have played since I began to keep a
record of results about 3,500 points against the opponent in ques-
tion, he taking three partners at different times, one of whom is
that trustworthy partner, Mr. Singte-dummy. Combining the
restUts, we are just over 400 points ahead, his best average being
obtained with Bingle-dnmmy as partner, where he is 15.5 points
behind on a total of 1,.547 made. It should be noticed that we play
for tricks only, not counting either honours or rubbers. This, of
course, gives a much greater advantage to combined play than when
honours, and the chances connected with the rubber tend to equalise
matters. Still, we should not be so far ahead on the Single-dummy
play were it not for an inveterate habit our opponent has of visibly
rejoicing over a good hand and as \T.sibly sorrowing over a bad one.
Nothing but such records as I have recently kept would have shown
me how very importantly such indications affect results.

230

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1887.

even the narrowest (unless it be considered the broadest) of
my views, the real immorality of gambling, the experience
of all civilised nations that gambling whenever encouraged
has proved demoralising, and has had to be checked, affords
tolerably good proof that there is something immoral in its
very naf ure ; for that must surely be tinged with immorality,
which, when left to itself, proves invariably demoralising.
But I repeat that I have not hoped, and cannot reasonably
hope, that my book will correct the folly of the many._ The
wise 'never gamble or speculate (outside such speculation as
every business or pursuit in life necessarily involves. The
foolish will continue to gamble, probably, till the world's end.
(A daring "joker of jokes" once said that such men would
wager on the tone of Gabriel's last trump.) But, as I say
in my preface, I hope that some may be influenced for good ;
a few who are between the wiser and the more foolish may
join the better section if they are shown the unwisdom and
immorality of gambling ways.

seems decidedly an Americanism. I should imagine that if
found anywhere in the old country it would be in Scotland
or on the border ; for it seems to be of French origin, like
the Scottish "galopin," an errand-boy, a common lad, and
" gamin," a street-boy, young blackguard. But I know of
no such word now in existence in the French language.
Possibly someone acquainted with French argot can tell us
-*' — . Everj'one remembers how Colonel Hay's Jim
e, when he " saw his duty a dead sure thing," said —

of one
Bludsoe

NOTES ON AMERICANISMS.

By Richard A. Proctor.

Gad. This old word for a spike or pointed instrument-
akin to "goad"— is gravely given by Bartlett as an
Americanism still " used in the North of England." It is
still used in English dictionaries, and has been used from
the days of Johnson, through Walker's time, onwards until
now.

Gall. (1) This word, which, though used in England
for bitterness of mind, has yet a peculiar Americ^in use for
something between cool impudence and malignity, is not
mentioned by Bartlett. The commonness of this usage is
decidedly American. " You show gall enough," a rude man
in America will say to his mother-in-law, sometimes even to
his wife ; where an Englishman equally wanting in polite-
ness might say, " I like your cheek 1 " or use some similar
vulgarism. (2) " A soil of vegetable libres," says Vignoles,
" matted and treacherous to the foot, unpleasant as well as
dangerous to crop."

Gallinipper. a large gnat common in the Southern
States, somewhat resembling the mosquito in proclivities
and in appearance, but larger.

Gallivant. Because this good old English word is used
in America precisely as it has been used from time
immemorial in England it is included by Bartlett among
Americanisms. The same remark applies just here to
"galloping" (consumption); to " gallows " (for fine, adjec-
tively or adverbially, this costermonger slang being gravely
described as a New York expression) ; to " gallowses," for
tronser-braces, or " suspenders," as Americans call them ; ti>
" galoshes," for overshoes, given as " a term universal in
Canada" ; to " gambree," for a hipped roof; to "gap" (used
for openings made in mountain regions by rivers, to open-
ings in fences, &c.) ; and to a host of other words beginning
with " g." Bartlett is in fact particularly weak in regard
to the English use of words which he includes among
Americanisms. It does not seem to mo that the occasional
■ or local use of certain words in England should prevent us
from regarding their general and colloquial use on the other
side of'' the Atlantic as bringing them into the rank of
Americanisms. But if words as commonly used in some
special sense in England as in America are to be classed
among Americanisms, I can see no reason why a full
English dictionary should not be brought out as a dictionary
of Americanisms.

Galoot. A common fellow, low-class person ; the word
does not seem always limited to the male sex. This word

I'll hold her nozzle agin the bank
Till the last galoot's ashore

(presumably including the female passengers). But in the
following quotation from " Grandpa's Soliloquy " — a poem
unknown to me, but I borrow here from Bartlett — the word
seems restricted to the male sex, even as the words
" galopin " and " gamin " have always been : —

It wasn't so when I was 3'oung,

We used plain language then ;
We didn't speak of them galoots

When meaning boys and men.

Not knowing the context, I am unable to say whether the
soliloquising grandfather here simply objects to the use of
such ungrammatic.al slang as " them galoots," instead of
saying " boys " or " men," or whether he objected to certain
folks, properly called " galoots," being included when
genuine boys and genuine men were spoken of. In the
latter case the word "galoot" would seem to bear an
unpleasant significance ; in the former, and more probable,
case (only, if that was meant, " them galoots " should have
been put between (/uilkmets) it would seem that the slang
use of the term " galoot " is of comparatively recent origin.

Gam. a social visit : borrowed from seafaring terms. I
cannot say I have ever heard the word used. But Browne's
" Whaling Cruise " states that when two whalers meet in
any of the whaling-grounds, it is usual to have a yain, or
mutual visit, for the purpose of interchanging the latest
news, &c.

Gander Party. A masculine social party. I once heard
a lady in America speak of a club as a "gander gang," a
term pleasingly alliterative if not strictly com]ilimentary.

Gander-pulling. " A brutal species of amusement
practised in Engkind," Bartlett says, " as well as in Nova
Scotia." I have never heard of " gander-pulling " being
practised anywhere in Great Britain or Ireland, and must
conclude therefore that Bartlett means New England.
Cock-fighting is bad enough, but " gander-pulling," as
described in " Sam Slick," and as more fully pictured in
" The Prophet of the Smoky Mountains," is about the most
disgustingly brutal form of sport it ever entered into the
minds of men to invent. It must have been derived from
the more barbarous among the Indian races. A goose is
hung head downwards from a swinging rope on the branch
of a tree, and a .set of ruflians, riding under the suspended
goose at a gallop, try to pull off the poor creature's head as
they pass. I decline to degrade these pages by a fuller account
of this disgusting and brutalising sport — no ! scarcely
brutalising, for no one could by any possibility be made
more brutal than he must already be to engage in it.

Gar. a kind of pike found in Southern and Western
rivers — sometimes called the alligator gar, perhaps because
of the fact that it has been known to fight the alligator.
Its business name is the Lepidosteus, formerly the Belone
truncata. It is interesting from its kinship with the
ganoid scaled fishes plentiful during Palaeozoic and Mesozoic
ages — as the l'holidoi)lionis, C/ieu-olepis, Plati/sotmis, ifec.

Garden. The use of this word in America is peculiar,
though Bartlett (not knowing the English usage, in all
probability) makes no mention of it. What we in England

August 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

231

most commonly mean when we speak of a "garden,"
Americans call a "yard" — a term usually limited in
England to inclosed spaces which are not planted with
trees, shrubs, or flowers — and perhaps most generally under-
stood to signify an inclosed space which is wholly or
partially paved. For instance, a school playground would
hardly be called a " yard " in England. The word " garden "
in America is applied to what we would call a market
garden either for vegetables or flowers. The word
" orchai'd " is used much as with us.

It is hardly necessaiy to tell the philological reader that
the words "garden," " yard," and " orchard " are closely
akin — orchard, however, being a compound — ort-yard or
wort-yard. The following series of words may be worth
noticing — it includes, however, but a few of the words akin
in divers languages to our " yard " and " garden " : —

EsG. Gnrdea, garth, yard, or-chard. (Greensioard must
not be confounded witli these words, as if greens-ward ; it is
green-sward, " sward " being an old name for " skin " or
" rind.")

Geard, orfgeard, vyrt-geard ; Old English,

Saxox.
gearth.
Gothic.
German.
Erench.
Danish.
Latin.

Gards, aurti-gards.
Garten ; Low German, garden.
Jardin ; Old French, gardin.
Guard, urtgaard ; Icelandic, gartlir.
Hortiis.

Greek. Chortos.

The same root is found in guard, giuirdiai), gird, girdle,
ward, warden, and other kindred words. Yard the metisure
of length, yard in yard-arm, goad, gad, hasta (Lat.), and
many other words, some of which have no apparent asso-
ciation with " guarding " or with girding or girdling, belong
to the same familv.

Query. What is the derivation of the name " Hard,"
used for a pier or landing-place for small boats ? — as
" Admiral's Hard," at Plymouth. This word does not
appear in any English dictionaries I have, though it is in
Webster. It may be akin to yard, as such landing-places
are partly inclosed, or girt round. In a dockyard we see
that a space so inclosed for ships is called a yard. Marryat
uses the word I/ard in " Peter Simple " ; and it is quite
commonly understood in the sen.se of a landing-place at
such places as Plymouth, Portsmouth, &c. The word
"hard" is also applied to fording-places where a river
bottom is hard.

Garrison, for "Fort," seems to be a specially W^estern
usage — continued long after a soldier has been in a place
which was once a fort.

Gat or Gate, for a gap, is a usage borrowed from the old
Dutch davs. Washington Irving tells how from the old
llelle-gat, or lIM-gap, there came Hell-gate, afterwards
altered " by the mealj'-mouthed to Hirl-gi\te, forsooth " !
(Shakespeare has the " gate of hell," be it remarkeil in
passing, and Milton speaks of the gates of that abode of the
condemned, in giving his marvellously unscientific account
of the transit of Satan from bell to earth — with gravity
acting anyhow.)

Gather. Used in the West in.stead of "take up" or
"pick up," and appropriate!)* pronounced "gether."

Gaum (or Gorm). To smear. Still used in the eastern
counties. " If Mrs. Gummidge didn't up with a bucket
and lay it over that theer ship-carpenter's head," says Mr.
Peggotty (or to that effect), "I'm gormed, and I can't say
no fairer than that" — using the word for " smeared," as the
word " darned " is used in divers parts of England and
America, not as intended to suggest any re;il " darning " or
" smearing," but simply as a good mouth-filling word, sug-
gestive of that eternal condemnation of the wicked which

has been so long considered an appropriate subject to swear
by.

Gawnr's. a gawk, quasi lucus a non kicendo ; a " gaw-
nius," because not a genius.

Gent. This word is used in two senses in America, one
interesting, the other fearful ; the interesting usage being
apparently a true Americanism, the fearful one being common
also in England.

1. Gent, for genteel, is interesting as being so exceed-
ingly old. Said Chaucer five centuries ago : —

Fair was this yonge wife, and therewithal
.\s any weasel her body gent and small ;

and now — or yesterday, at any lute (circiter 1704) —
" Law you," we find in " ]Madam Knight's Journal,"
" it's right gent ; it's awful pretty." The usage is
French — C'est bien gentil, it's very pretty. Bartlett
puts the word " gent," thus used, as equivalent to
"genteel"; but though "genteel" might be thus used
with propriety, it is seldom associated with the ide;x of
prettiness. More often " genteel " Ls used for smallness,
as "a genteel figure"; but this Ls not precisely the
same as even Chaucer's usage in the above passage.
For whereas " gent " with Chaucer means neatness and
prettiness, "genteel " u.sed of the figure implies not only
that the figure is neat, but that in ne;itness there is
what is understood by " gentility." A small figure is
considered genteel, and therefore, though not quite
logically, a genteel figure is understood to signify a
small one. In Chaucer's time the French language had
evidently adopted gentil as equivalent to neat and
elegant. The Old English '■ gimp," from the Welsh
" gwymp," may have suggested the monosyllabic form
" gent."

2. "Gent" is used substantively as in England — a
supposed abbreviation for " gentleman," really another
name for the awfuUest of awful cads. We shudder and
pass on.

Gentiles, as used in Utah to distinguish from the
Mormons those who are not Mormons, must now be regarded,
I supjjose, as an Americanism. When I lectured at Salt
Lake City, I found myself spoken of in a IMormon paper as
" a Gentile lecturer " — much as an aesthete calls an outsider
a Philistine, or as a racing man speaks of a non-racing man
as an outsider.

Gentleman. This word, like its companion word
" lady," is so used in America that persons of respectability
are relieved when they find themselves called " men " and
" women." A negro boot-black is " a coloured gentleman."
A respectable uncoloured person is " a white man " ; and to
be called " a white man " is to be spoken of with respect ;
to be called in America a '' gentleman " is pretty nearly an
insult. Whenever any one Siiys to me, " Let me introduce
this man to you," I know the chances are I shall be introduced
to a good fellow ; but when I hear the ominous words,
" Here is a gentleman I should like to introduce to you," I
know I am to make the acquaintance of a j)erson engaged
in politics or some kindred form of swindling.

In the East, however, they still try to keep up the old
use of this word to distinguish a man of gentle breeding and
good position from the uncultured. How successfully they
do this may be inferred from those most hateful " gentle-
men " who appear in Howells' novels, surely the gi'eatest
cads literature ba.s yet produced, and from casual remarks in
so-adled " society " papers. An amusingly suggestive story
appeared lately in one of these papere. A lady, described
as "a leader of society in Washington," remarked that she
knew X was not a gentleman, for she noticed that " he
lifted hLs coat-tails as he sat down ; a real gentleman never

232

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[August 1, 1887.

attends to such matters " — the fact being, I should have
thought, that in such trifles a gentleman does as he pleases
or as convenience may suggest, no real lady ever noticing,
even though she may chance to have seen, what he does.

Gentleman Turkey. A turkey cock. A usage in the
Western States much favoured by " nice persons," to whom '
Sidney Smith's definition of prudes as " nice persons with
nasty ideas " is pre-eminently apphcable.

WIND MYTHS.

By " Stella Occidens."

N Russian folklore a being re.sembling Hulda in
her worst aspect plays a prominent part. Her
name, Baba Yaga, means a quarrelsome, scold-
ing old woman ; and she is for ever doing some
spiteful or malevolent action. According to
Balston, her appearance is that of a "tall,
gaunt hag, with di.shevelled hair." Sometimes
she is seen lying stretched out from one corner to the other
of a miserable hut, through the ceiling of wliich passes her
long iron nose. The roof of the hut is supported by " fowls'
legs," and stands at the edge of a forest towards whicli its
entrance looks. When certain words are spoken the hut
revolves, and turns its back to the forest.*

Baba Yaga is sometimes represented under the appearance
of the mistress of a house which stands in a courtyard
inclosed by a fence made of dead men's bones. When she
goes abroad " she rides in a mortar, which she urges on with
a pestle, while she sweeps away the traces of her flight with
a broom." She generally kills people in order to eat them,
and out of their bones .she makes the fence which surrounds
her house. Their skulls are used as lanterns, in which she
places flaring torches at night. A story is told of a young
girl who once visited her, and was offered a piece of a human
arm for her dinner. We aie not told if she appreciated her
meal; but it may have been so — there is no accounting for
tastes.

One of the most interesting Russian folk-tales is that of
Vasilissa the Fail-. She had a cruel stepmother, who hated
her becau.se she was more beautiful than her own daughters.
She treated Vasilissa very unkindly, and made her do all
the hard work. However, Vasilissa always did all slie had
to do because she had a doll who helped her. At her fixther's
death he left this to her, and said, " Keep it always by 3'ou,
and never show it to anybody. Whenever misfortunes come
upon )'ou, give the doll food, and ask its advice. When it
has fed, it will tell you a cure for your troubles." The doll
always helped her when she did as her fether told her, and
she would carefully follow its advice. The stepmother went
to live in a new house on the edge of the forest, in which
Baba Yaga lived, and tshe would make every excuse to send
Vasilis.sa on errands through the forest so that she might
fall into Baba Yaga's power. One autumn evening, as the
two sisters and Vasilis.sa were working, one of the sisters
snuflfed the candle and put it out. The stepmother had told
her to do this, so that she might send Va.silissa to Baba
Yaga's house to get a light. The sister, who was making
lace, said : —

" My pins give me light enough ; I shall not go."
And the other sister, who was knitting, said her knitting-
needles gave her light enough, and she would not go.

" Vasilissa, you must go for the light," they both cried

♦ " Russian Folk-tales," Ralston, p. 146. [Except for the fowls' legs,
the account would do for an observatory of modern times, the
telescope being the lady's long iron nose. — Ed.]

out together ; " be off to the Baba Yaga ! " and they pushed
her out of the room.

Vasili.ssa went to her room, and taking her doll, she gave
it a good supper, and asked its advice.

When the doll had eaten a good meal its " eyes began to
glow like a couple of candles."

"Never fear, Vasilissa dear!" it said. "Go where
you're sent. Only take care to keep me always by you. As
long as I'm with you, no harm will come to you at the Baba
Yaga's."

So Vasilissa dressed herself, put the doll in her pocket,
and started on her walk through the forest. As she
walked a horseman galloped by. He was dressed in white,
and rode a white horse, and the day began to break.
Further on she met a second rider, dressed in red and
sitting on a red horse, and the sun rose.

Vasilissa walked all night and the next day, and towards
evening she came to Baba Yaga's hut. The fence around it
was made of dead men's bones ; on the top of the fence were
stuck human skulls, with eyes in them ; instead of uprights
at the gate were men's legs ; instead of bolts were arms ;
instead of a lock was a mouth with sharp teeth. Just then
another horsem.an rode by. He was black, dressed in
black, and rode a black horse. He. galloped up to Baba
Yaga's gate and disappeared, just as if he had sunk through
the ground, and night fell. The eyes in the skulls on the
fence began to shine, and made the place quite bright.
Soon a terrible roar was heard in the forest. The trees
crackled and swayed aliout their branches, the dry leaves
rustled, the wind sighed and moaned through the trees. It
was Baba Yaga, who came sweeping through the forest
trees, riding in a mortar and urging it on with a pestle. As
she drove up to her gate she snuft'ed the air around her, and
said : " Faugh I Faugh 1 I smell Russian flesh ! Who's
there t "

Vasilissa was nearly frightened out of her wits by this
time, but she curtsied to the old hag, and said, —

" It's me, granny. My stepsisters have sent me to you
for a light."

" Very good," .said the Baba Yaga. " I know them.
If you'll stop awhile with me first and do some woik for me
I'll give you a light. But if you won't I'll eat you."

Vasilis.sa, with the assistance of her doll, did all the work
that was given her, and on the third day Baba Yaga gave
her one of the .skulls with blazing eyes from the fence,
stuck it on a stick, and told her to take it home to her step-
sisters. When she reached home it was bright day, and she
was going to throw away the skull, but a hollow voice from
the skull said :

" Throw me not away ; carry me to your stepmother."

She was gladly welcomed at home, for they had had no
light since she went away. They carried the .skull into the
sitting-room. The eyes glared at the stepmother and her
daughters, and shot forth flames. They tried to hide them-
selves, but by moining were burnt to cinders. Only
Vasilissa escaped. She eventually was married by a
prince, took Baba Yaga into her service, and to the end of
her life always carried her doll in her pocket.*

Another characteristic story is told about Ivanushka, the
son of a bantini/a, or lady, who was carried away in a
whirlwind by Baba Yaga. His three sisters searched for
him everywhere, and though each woidd find him yet they
could not bring him home. They made Baba Yaga go
to sleep by smearing her eyelids with pitch (a strange cure
for insomnia) , but when they were half-way home she
awoke, and, chasing them, nearly scratched and tore them
to pieces. At last the younger sister went to look for her

* Ralston, " Russian Folk-Tales," p. 158.

August 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

233

brother. Now Baba Yaga bad a cat called Jeremiah, who
was her favourite companion, and who had been the cause
of the two sistei's' failure. The younger sister made friends
with Jeremiah by giving it batter, and tying a pretty ribbon
round its neck. She found it seated on a stool opposite her
brother, telling him 8hazhas, or stories, and singing him
songs. When the Baba Yaga awoke she told Jeremiah to
scratch her eyes open, but the cat coolly told her to wait
awhile till he had eaten some of the good butter the little
girl had given him. Baba Yaga was furious, and threatened
to crush him to death, but Jeremiah, after removing himself to
a safe distance, spoke to her as follows : " As long as we have
lived under the same roof, and as much as I have done for
you, yet you have never once treated me kindly, whereas
the little boy's sister has given me butter and tied a pretty
ribbon round my neck."

In another similar story Baba Yaga became so angry with
her butter-bribed cat that she pinched him to death for not
waking her up in time.*

In the North, where the winds are cold and bleak, it is
quite natural to look upon them as malevolent beings, full of
mischief and spite. We have already observed this belief
in the German, and the same appears to exist in the Rus-
sian folklore. Among the peasants the whirlwind is sup-
posed to be a Yikhor, or bird. Once a certain king and
queen went for a walk in the garden, and the Vikhor bird
came and carried the queen away. Her three sons set out
to look for her, and the youngest, Prince Vasily, found her.
The queen concealed him, and Vikhor came flying in and
spoke angrily to the queen. She gave her son a hint to
come out from his hiding-place. He gi-eeted Vikhor, and
caught hold of his right little finger. Vikhor tried to shake
him ofl', but in vain. At last Vikhor fell to the ground, and
became a fine yellow sand. Prince Vasily kept the little
finger, but, scraping the sand together, he burnt it in the
stove, t

In Poland, when the whirlwind sweeps up the loose sand,
it is supposed to be the evil spirit dancing. The magicians
throw a sharp new knife into the sand to wound the spirit.
A man who had a spite against another plunged such a
knife into his threshold, and condemned him to ride for
seven years arc ind the world on a whirlwind. It is said
that the whirlwind lifted the man, who was making hay-
cocks in a meadow, and bore him away in the air.J

In Norway the north wind is supposed to be a good-
natured giant ; but when a violent wind arises oSerings
are made to him to pacify him. At Bamberg it is said that
an old woman snatched up her meal- sack whilst a storm was
raging, and, opening the window, emptied it out, saying,
" Dear wind, don't be so wild ; take that home to your
child ! " She looked on the wind as a greedy lion or fierce
wolf.§

In Norway the peasants say that the " giant stirs his
pots" when there are whirlwinds or foul weather. In
Sweden the popular belief is that a violent whirlwind is the
Skogsrii, or wood-wife, who shakes the trees even to break-
ing, and rushes violently through the air. The Slavonians
think that the whirlwind is a female demon, who flies up in
the du.st which the whirlwind raises. According to another
legend, the whirlwind was a noble damsel who loved the
chase above everything, and made havoc of the husVjandmen's
crops, for which she is doomed to ride along with the storm
to all eternity. This recalls the Diana huntress deities
and Holda.ll

* Ralston, " Russian Folklore," p. 177.
t Ralston, " Russian Folklore," p. 232.
j Grimm, " Tea'onic Mythology," p 6.S2.
§ Grimm, " Teutonic Mythology," p. 636.
II Ibid. p. 633.

In conclusion, it is interesting to note how the southern
myths differ from the northern — as greatly as the warm
southern breezes differ from the bleak northern winds. The
following Italian story is a good example : —

A fisherman who had had bad luck for some time, over-
come with anger, cursed the Madonna and the saints.
Suddenly a certain person (who, we are told, was the
enemy of mankind) appeared to him, and promised him
good luck if he would give him the next son he had when
that son should be thirteen years old. The man consented,
but when the enemy came to claim his prize the fairy Colina
duped him and carried off the boy to her own palace.
Lionbruno (the name of the boy) became her husband, but
after a while wished to visit his home. On the way he had
many adventures. After a long journey he came to a dense
forest. Here he saw a little old hovel surrounded by dense
wild shrubs, and with a little ivy-covered door. He could
only reach it after climbing over inaccessible rocks. He
knocked at the door, and an old woman opened it, who
told him that she was Borea, the northwind. When she
saw Lionbruno she asked him if he was not afraid, for this
was the house of the winds, and if her four sons should
return they would devour him. However, she hid him in
a chest, and soon a loud noise was heard in the distance.
It was the winds returning, and the noise grew louder and
louder, as if the trees and branches were being swept away.

When they entered they began to say, " What smell of
human flesh is here ? "

" Here, Christians, Christians I Where is there any
smell of human flesh here ? Who would venture here ? "
said their mother.

Sirocco would not be convinced. At last Borea pacified
them by promising to show them a man if they would not
harm him. When she brought him out they puffed and
blowed about him, and asked him many questions. They
kept their promise and did not hurt him, and after a while
Sirocco wafted him to the fairy Colina on a gentle breeze.*

In a modern Greek folk-song the winds are under the
command of a sparrow-hawk, and they obey him. In
another a mother sets three to watch her son while he
sleeps. In the mountains the sun, in the plain the eagle,
on the sea the brisk lord Boreas ; the sun sets, the aagle
goes to sleep, and lioreas goes home to his mother. From
the context we understand that the eagle is the sweet soft
wind, and Boreas the cool north wind.

HOW AMERICANS VIEW ENGLAND. t

E often wonder whether the untravelled
American's idea of Great Britain and the
Britisher is as erroneous as John Bull's
notions concerning America and Americans.
To the American, England seems a pheno-
menal islan<l, peopled by a race of men
gifted with qualities approved by the cen-
turies as "the fittest." For English ideas have survived.
English purposes and intentions have ripened into immutable
facts. English oppression has prevailed over the liberties of
other peoples in all quarters of the globe. English avarice
has piled up countless millions sterling. English commerce
has gained a fii'm foothold in all the marts of the world.
English armies have won laurels on thousands of battle-

* T. F. Crane, "Italian Popular Tales," p. 143.

f From a leading American paper " ou'. West." In places, this
article seems written in happy unconsciousness of the fact that
races retain racial qualities for more than the six or seven genera-
tions which separate the Americans from the Old English
parentage.

234

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1887.

fields. English traditions, surviving the institutions they
typify in Church and State, like the chrysalis that lately
held the butterfly, though dead and soulless, have retained
tinsel, glitter, and shapeliness. English scholars, peers of
the Pagan masters, have given to modein times a literature
robust with Saxon heroism and sanctified by an inspiration
as pure as the whisperings of the muse in earlier days.
English philanthropy has exemplified the innate nobility of
the English heart, motheiing within the scope of its minis-
trations the lorn and the outcast of all nations and climes.
But with all this, clouds of selfishness have ever
obscured the British sun, and a vein of malevolence has
predominated in British national character. An oppressor
of the weak, her armies have been the butchei-s of countless
defenceless peoples, sacrificed upon the altar of her ambition
and avarice. Posing as a bulwai'k of Christianity, England
has despoiled the children of the faith. English hands have
for centuries dabbled in the blood of Christians. Them-
selves boastful of their liberties, for ages Englishmen have
heartlessly forged chains for their neighbours, and ruthlessly
slaughtered as recalcitrants and traitors such of their
countrymen as scorned to bend the knee to wanton power,
even tliough enforced by the sword and the gibbet. No
century of English history but has witnessed her armies
despoiling innocent communities, overturning inoffensive
principalities, and her people clamouring for the blood of
the nations despoiled by her cruelty. English tyranny has
lost no opportunity to lay the weight of its relentless hand
upon the weak and the defenceless. English cunning has
over-reached the designs of the strong and the resolute. In
peace a shopkeeper, with eyes intent for barter ; in war,
depending as much upon the power of her gold to corrupt
as upon the power of her armies to vanquish her foes.
Great Britain has more deeply graven her image upon the
tablet of modern civilisation than any other nation of
modern times.

This, in brief, is an American's opinion of Great Britain
and the Englishman. It goes without saying that the
American never wearies of criticising English classes and
English customs. " Her Majesty," so rendered by the
English royalist, who looks upon kingly blood as akin to
divinity, we regard as a very fat and very benevolent old
lady, neither better nor worse than any intelligent house-
wife, and not nearly as useful. The princes and princesses
of the royal household we regard as so many appendages of
an obsolete system, a trifle expensive, and entirely super-
fluous in a civilisation peculiarly eclectic in its instincts and
methods. The lords and ladies we regard as a lower species
of the same genus — not quite as respectable, and, if possible,
more burdensome and useless to society.

THE WILD WEST ; AND HOW ENGLISHMEN
VIEW AMERICA.*

UST now the Hon. Wm. F. Cody, better

known as Buffalo Bill, is edifying the

Londoners by daily performances of his

Wild West combination, and the English

press is printing columns of notices of the

Nebraskan and his show, i-eferring to it

as a life-like reproduction of life in Western

America. As one strong point of evidence

this would lead to the belief that the Engli.sh do really know

less of America than the most careless Americans do of

England.

* From the same Western paper.

The fact is that every American who bothers his head
with the matter is glad that Buffalo Bill is having such a
success, and this satisfaction is inspired by American
admiration for anything that makes money quicklv. Not
that Americans care more for money than other civilised
people — indeed they care less — but the mere fact that one
of them makes a huge fortune by some big push is pleasing,
and we seem to care very little whether he does it by a real-
estate boom or a patent on a chestnut bell.

Thus, while Americans are pleased with Buffalo Bill's
success, the smile is broadened in contemplation of John
Bull's gullibility, for the fact is that the Wild West show
no more represents America than the " Great Parisian
Circus " would I'epresent France, or than the play of
" Eomeo and Juliet " would present the phases of a modem
love scrape.

The Wild West is as much a show to the people of
Chicago as it is to London, and would draw as big a crowd,
proportionately, in Cheyenne as it does anywhere else. The
Deadwood coach, and the scenes with which Buflalo Bill
surrounds it, are not prevalent in America, and only repre-
sent an incident in the history of the West, the same as if
an English panorama should come to America and give
among other pictures something presenting the plot of Guy
Fawkes as a part of the history of England. la short, the
Wild West does not represent America any more than
Wild Bill's dress and hair represent the costumes which
prevail in Missouri.

Yet, without having seen this personified creation of one
or more of Ned Buntline's " yaller "-backed novels for
several years, it is amusing to Americans at this great dis-
tance to see Buffalo Bill coddled by the Queen, feted by the
titled, lionised by London, and written about in the English
press as the Hon. C'olonel Cody, a member of the American
Congress, and a high officer in the American army. And
we shall have a big laugh with Bill about it when he gets
back, for, in the democratic rank which prevails in this
country, history will repeat itself upon Cody's return. He
will be the Hon. Colonel William Cody until he strikes
our shores ; then he will be Colonel Cody perhaps as far
west as Chicago ; Buffalo Bill at Omaha ; and " Bill, old
boy," when he gets among his familiars at North Platte.

But in it all, and with it all, he will be a handsome,
good-hearted, clear-sighted, and plain-mannered man of the
West, who obtained his nickname by killing buffalo on a
contract to furnish meat to the men who graded the Union
Pacific, his miUtary title as an honorary militia oflicer on
the staff of the Governor of Nebraska, and his Honourable
handle by once having been elected to the legislature of
Nebraska, and at a time when he could not afford to take
the seat, as he had other and more valuable business to
attend to.

THE TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE OF AUGUST 19.

Althougb, as indicated in " The Face of the Sky " on p. 238, but
little indeed of this phenomenon will be visible in this country ;
yet, as it will be observable in many parts of Russia fairly easy of
access, we give a few details of the path of the moon's shadow over
the earth. At Vitebslj, lat. 55° 11' N., loner. 30° 10' E., totality will
last for 2m. 23s. ; thence the centre of shadow will travel a little to
the north of Moscow; will pass through Jaroslav, lat. 47° 35' N.,
long. 40° E., when totality continues about 2m. 30s. ; to the north of
Viatka (deviation of totality 2m. 50s.); acro.^s the Ural llountain.s,
and so into Russia in Asia ; traversing which it passes over the
Khirgan Mountains into Mongolia, and over Jlantchooria and Japan
into the Pacific to the north of Yedo. The maximum duration of
totality (3m. 50s.) happens to the south-east of Lalce Baikal. No
effective observation of this eclipse will be obtainable from any
point much to the west of St. Petersburg. Probably Vitebsk — which
may be reached by the railway from Riga— is as easy of access as
most stations.

August 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LKDGE ♦

235

(So sfsffp^

By Richard A. Proctor.
The sensational announcement that the Star of Bethlehem
had been seen near the zenith in Cassiopeia was doubtless,
as I stated in last month's Knowledge, based on a mistaken
idea on the part of the ingenious discoverer that, since Tycho
Brahe had seen the new star of 1572 in the zenith, there the
star would be seen again. But, finding that Maj' is not the
time for seeing Cassiopeia at night in the zenith, the faithful
(and seemingly truthful) belie-, er in the star of 1572 as the
Star of the Nativity now announces thi-oughout America,
with much abuse of myself on 5?«as/-theological grounds,
that it was in the day-time he saw the star, using a method
which the fogeydom of the professed students of astronomy
would not allow them to think of. This wonderful method
consists in the use of smoked glasses, to protect the eye
from the glare of the sky, and also, in a manner not
explained, in the use of reflecting mirrors attached to the
telescope. Of course, says the discoverer of the Star of
Bethlehem, " I did not expect to see Cassiopeia when below
the horizon ; but by means of these arrangements I have
been able to see the constellation with the ' new star ' in its
midst, while still above the horizon in the day-time."
* * *
The only trouble is that, in correcting one error, the
ingenious Professor Klein — such is the name and assumed
title of the man — has ftxllen into another. Reminded that
the constellations revolve annually as well as dail}' round
the polar axis of the star sphere, and perceiving that, that
being so, Cassiopeia, seen near the zenith in November, can-
not be near the zenith in May or June, he has too hastily
concluded, in his utter ignorance, that the constellation
would be opposite the zenith, or £;\r below the horizon, at
midnight in the summer months. Were this so, he could of
course safely pretend to have seen the new star by some
novel device in the day-time ; should the star be wanting
when Cassiopeia came again into view at night, he could
easUy account for that by saying that in the meantime the
star had died out. It has been, I expect, .an unpleasing
revelation to this worthy, that Cassiopeia does not pass
below the horizon at night in the latitude whence he has so
ingeniously observed the constellation in the day-time. So
that, to save his credit for veracity, we must believe that the
star shines for him brightly enough to be seen in the day-
time, and goes out of view (for astronomers) so as not even
to show the brightness of an eighth magnitude star at night 1
This seems to some degree improbable.

* * *
Mr. Haggard is to be congratulated on the resumption,
in " Allan Quatermain's Story," of the style of writing in
which he obtained a well-deserved success in "King
Solomon's Jklines." Both stories are capital books for boys,
books, too, which men need not be ashamed to enjoy as
thoroughly as the young folk. In such books a few
mistakes in matters of detail count for little. We need not
be troubled that the sun and moon do not usually behave
as Mr. Haggard makes them behave in " King Solomon's
Mines," or that a battle against forces numerically superior
and equal in quality could not possibly be successful if con
ducted as Sir Henry Curtis conducts his battle with the forces
of Queen Sorais and Nasta, in the later story. Both books re-
main exceedingly interesting even for those who recognise in
them some such trifling absurdities ; and though both are in
places rather of the " blood and thunder " type, that, again,
does not detract from, but rather enhances, their value as
books for boys — aye, and for girls, too, and many grown folk
also.

But an intelligent community must not allow too friendly
reviewers to persuade them that " She " is other than false
in taste and feeble in method (where it passes outside the
book-for-boys style). " She " bears the same relation to
what it was meant for that " Nana " bears to a healthy
love story. It would have been well for Mr. Haggard if
he could have explained that the work was the production
of his bayish days when he was unable to distinguish good
from bad in such productions as " The E|3icurean " and its
kindred. Unfortunately, and somewhat startlingly, he has
to admit that he had never read ^Moore's two fanciful works
(which one had thought every literary man must know well).
It now appears that even the familiar " Peter Williams " has
been newly discovered by Mr. Haggard since "Allan Quater-
main " was written,

"Jess," "Dawn," and "The Witch's Head" indicate
with tolerable clearness Mr. Haggard's limits.

* * *

Mr. Haggard himself tells us that he cannot write
poetry, and so little thought anyone would suspect him of
such weakness that he did not consider it necessary to men-
tion that certain poetry in "Jess " — amazingly ill-placed, by
the way — was written by another, even though that other
was a woman and dead. He graciously acknowledges such
matter in " Allan Quatermain," but only as "put into
rhyme for him " — by his sister !

Three or four times during the last two years I have
come across paragraphs in American newspapers, re-
sembling the following from a New Orleans newspaper, but
I have always supposed that the story told of mock
modesty, really implying almost inconceivable impurity of
mind, must be sheer invention : —

A pitiful case of mock modesty occurred right here at home last
week. One afternoon a party of young ladies and gentlemen went
out sailing on the lake. A squall came up, and as they were
hastening in to shore they were hailed by some gentlemen whose
boat had capsized, and who, in danger of drowning, were clinging for
life to its slippery sides. It seems that these young men had been
out for a deep-sea bath, and were consequently nude. Owing to the
storm they had been in the water for a long while, and one of the
number was seized with cramps, and his alarmed companions
thought he would die before help came. Xow, any ten-year-old
child who has ever tucked up its pantalets and gone wading in a
creek knows that a person being in the water and seized with
cramps will probably die if not rescued. As the yacht came up to
the distressed bathers they explained the situation to those on her,
and begged that the sick man might be taken aboard and a boat
sent from West End to their own relief. But the mock-modest
young ladies giggled and blushed, and I daresay peeped between
the slicks of their fans, while vowing and declaring that they
couldn'tthinkof such a thing. They giggled again, bat did not think
to look the other way, and expressed themselves as horrified at the
bare idea of rescuing a nude man from death. They had no thought
for the suffering of the groaning young fellow down in the water
being upheld by his anxious, dismayed, and exhausted companions.
They were too busy giggling and commenting on the awfully
embarrassing fact that the gentleman who desired to come on board
hadn't his wardrobe with him. No, they would rather he died than
be saved by them in his nude condition, .and finally the yacht
freighted with enough sham sentiment and mock modesty to sink it
to the very bottom in a mile deep of ocean water, sailed off, com-
promising between the proprieties and a common humanity by
promising to send help from the West End.

It -was not the fault of those young women whoever they were,
whatever they are, that the man they abandoned did not die before
help came, but it is their fault if some honest men and modest
women had a lesson in sham purity and pretended innocence and a
disgusted affectation of superior refinement and virtue that they
will not soon forget.

* * *

But close by St. Joseph, where I live, an event of this
kind, only with a more tragic ending, has taken place within

236

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[August 1, 1887.

the last few days, not two hundred yards from three members
of mv own famil}' — two sons and my father-in-law. Such
degi-ading " mock modesty " must be admitted as a I'eality
in this case, anyhow.

« * *
Two j'ouug men, one the only support of his mother, the
other but recently mirried, were bathing in Lake Contraiy —
five miles from St. Joseph. One or other got some injury
in diving, or was seized with cramps — whatever was the
trouble, one sank, and the other, the younger, was five times
drawn down, each time coming back to the surftice, and in
his .struggles rising above it almost to his waist. Each time
he rose he called lustily for help, but there was only one boat
near enough to have rendered help in time. In that boat
were two young men and two — no, one would rather not say
they were women — two persons of the female sex. Though
the young men were close by, and cannot but have heard the
cries of the swimmer, and the shouts of those near enough
to see but not, like them, near enough to help — they took
no notice, but rowed away from the drowning men, who both
consequently perished.

* * *

This was witnessed by dozens, and there was so intense a
feeling of disgust and horror that one rather wonders the
young men were not tarred and feathered or otherwise mal-
treated. Yet the shameful fact was concealed, at the insti-
gation doubtless of some of the persons concerned — and one
of the St. Joseph papers did not hesitate to accuse of folse-
hood the editor of a Missouri pajjer who called attention to
the murderous mock modesty of the female occupants of the
boat. But, despite this denial, the event really took place as
described above. The denial shows, however, that the com-
munity is very properly ashamed of the wrongdoing of some
who still disgrace it by their presence.

Philip's naiuhj-Yolume Atlas of the World : mth complete
Index and Statistical Xotes. By J. Feancon Williams,
F.R.G.S. (London : Geo. Philip & Son. 1887. 3s. U.
cloth.) — This work is something of a novelty; for with all
the good points of an ordinary atlas, together with many
more than are usually supplied at the price, the size of the
volume (18mo.) gives it its chief utility. The cumbersome
quarto is dispensed with, and the book may stand among
volumes of oidinary size, or even be carried in the pocket
where necessary. This will decidedly recommend it for
school uses. There are sixty-four plates containing a
hundred and ten maps and plans, and where greater detail
is needed a country is mapped in sections. Thus England
is shown on five scales — (1) in connection with the world;
(2) in Europe ; (3) in relation to Scotland, Wales, and Ire-
land ; (4) alone; (5) in three sections. No further detail
can be possibly needed in a general waj'. Plans of chief
towns and their environs are given to the number of about
forty, and the distinct marking of the railways is much to
be commended. At the end of the book is a reference
index of about 12,000 names. One of the best features of
the book, however, is the table, clearly printed on the back
of each map, of the chief features of the district depicted,
giving all the particulars as to physical, political, and topo-
graphical geography that need be taught or learnt in schools.
These tables have been compiled with great intelligence,
and, what is rarer, limited by sound discretion. The book
is well suited to schools, besides being adapted for private
use.

Absolute Relativism. By Wm. Bell McTaggart, late
Captain Mth Hussars. Vol. I. (London : W. Stewart &
Co.) — Captain McTaggart apparenti}' aims at the production
of an eclectic .system of philosophy, and occupies his fir.-t
volume with the destruction of the bases on which material-
ism and idealism are respectively founded. His dissection
of the fundamental propositions of these systems is marked
by considerable acuteness, and his success in showing how
and where they are respectively unsound is indisputable.
Of his constructive capacity we have yet to learn, as the
edifice which he is to raise from what he regards as meta-
physically unassailable is to be elaborated in a future
volume or volumes. Meanwhile he has produced a work of
value to the thoughtful student. By the way, either his
printer or himself is chargeable with some odd spelling in
places. To take a single instance : he heads his preliminary
remarks " Prolegomena," instead of " Prolegomena," the
word being derived from the Greek verb irpoXiytu ; I speak
beforehand ; and not, as he seems to fancy, from 7rpdA.oyos.

llie Wood-turner's Handyhooh. By Paul N. Hasluck.
A.I.M.E. (London : Crosby Lockwood & Co. 1887.)—
This is the .second of the valuable series of mechanical hand-
books by Mr. Hasluck now in the course of publication by
Messrs. Crosby Lockwood k Co., the- first of which (" The
Metal-turner's Handybook ") we noticed on p. 212. Written
by a man personally familiar with the tools he describes, it
may be cordially recommended as a most useful work to all
beginners in the fascinating art of turning. Explicit and
well-illustrated directions are given for making a consider-
able variety of articles, both useful and ornamental, and the
possessor of a lathe will find in its pages material to keep
him pleasantly and profitably employed for .some time to
come.

Screw Threads. By Paul N. Hasluck. (London :
Crosby Lockwood ik Co. 1887.) — Addressing a somewhat
more limited public than the volume reviewed above, this
little book, constructed to go into the waistcoat pocket,
pretty exhaustively discusses the question of screw threads
and screw-cutting generally. It should be in the po,=session
of every metal-turner, engineer, and machinist.

School H>jgiene. By Arthur Newsholme, M.D.
(London : Swan Sonnensehein, Lowrey, k Co. 1887.) —
In nineteen chapters. Dr. Newsholme treats elaborately of
school architecture in its sanitary aspect ; of mental and
physical exercise, diet, dress, rest, and bathing as affecting
the health of children ; of their eyesight ; of the commu-
nicable diseases which arise in, or are brought to, schools ;
and of school accidents and their immediate treatment.
Both parents and schoolmasters will find much in the
volume before us which is worthy of their most serious
consideration.

The Mystery of Gravity, dx. By J. Eraser, C.A.
(London : Wyman ife Sons. 1887.) — The mystery of gravity
is that it is — heat ! Last September we reviewed a book in
these columns (Kxowledoe, vol. ix., p. 342) by Mr.
Kedzie, in which Mr. Eraser's theory of bodies shielding
each other, and so being, as it were, pushed together, was
anticipated. Mr. Eraser, alike with Mr. Kedzie, quite
ignores the fixct that, were his hypothesis true, bodies would
attract each other in the pioportiou of their sectional areas,
and not of their masses at all.

History and Work of the Warner Observatory. (Rochester,
New York. 1887.) — In the first part of this work Mr.
Lewis Swift gives a general description of the observatory
and its contained instruments ; a list of the winners of the
prizes offered for the discovery of comets ; a catalogue of
nebula; discovered by the author, and miscellaneous observa-
tions of the physical structure of two well-known nebulae,

August 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE

237

and of the tail of the Pons-Biooks comet. The second por-
tion of the book is occupied with the Warner prize essays ;
the first one by Professor Lewis Boss, on comets, forming a
really valuable addition to popular knowledge of those
mysterious bodies. This is followed by four on the sky-
glows of 1883-84, of which the third, by Mr. H. C. Maine,
of Rochester, New York, is the only one really' worth the
trouble of reading through. The other three are seemingly
dependent upon Nature, alike for their "facts" and
inferences ; whence their scientific value may be pretty well
estimated.

My First Trigonometrij. By M. H. Senior. (London :
Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, & Co. 1887.) — Mr. Senior
plunges at once into analytical trigonometry, and, moreover,
wastes several pages over the absolutely valueless centesimal
measurement of angles ; but, despite this, he has produced
a remarkably useful little volume. His chapter on loga-
rithms, particularly, is excellent. " Hyp " has apparently
dropped out of the first fraction in s. 28 on p. 22.

Practical Solid Geometry. By Major W. G. Ross, R.E.
(London : Cassell &. Co. 1887.) — This is an introduction
to geometrical drawing on the orthographic projection, as
applied to the delineation of a tract of country in its mili-
tary aspect, of the plan of a fortification, &c. The system
of vertical indices is also explained, and contouring touched
upon ; while the isometric projection and the elementar}'
principles of shading are dealt with more or less fully. To
military students who have the advantage of a tutor. Major
Ross's small volume will be found valuable ; but it will re-
quire the most sedulous attention from all who are self-
instructed if they are to derive much advantage from it.

Instantaneims riwtograplu/ for Amateurs. By C. W.
(Bath: Charles Steen. 1887.) — ThLs pamphlet contains
a description of the " diaphragmatic shutter," in whicli
exposure is effected by the crossing of two apertures between
the two members of a camera lens. Its author claims for
his arrangement that it admits of the time of exposure
being accurately regulated between '01 second and several
minutes.

An Elementary French Grammar. By Dr. V". dk Fi\'as,
M.A., kc. (London : Crosby Lockwood & Co. 1887.) —
Familiar as is the name of Dr. de Fivas in connection wilh
the study of the French language, we naturally expected
that an elementary work on that subject from his pen would
be well and conscientiously done. Nor have we been dis-
appointed in the peiusal of the one before us, inasmuch as
the student who thoroughly master.s its contents will have
laid a very sound foundation for the acquisition of a perfect
knowledge of French.

The Bible and the A(/e. By Cuthbert Collingwood,
M.A. and M.B. Oxon. (London : T. Fisher Unwin. 1886.)
— Yet another specimen of wasted labour and misdirected
ingenuitv. In writing we convert, so to speak, our im-
material ideas into material signs — signs which possess, and
can possess, no identity with those ide^s, but in a familiar
sense " correspond " with them. Here, then, is the whole
mystery of Mr. Collingwood's biblical exegesis. The science
of the Bible is no science at all, and its history (where it has
any historical basis) is only ancillary to the spiritual lessons
taught by it. The man who reads the first chapter of
Genesis, in the belief that he is perusing an account of a
series of objective facts which really happened, is simply
deceiving himself, as the story of the Creation, of the
material universe, the appearance of Adam and Eve, and all
the rest of it, is myth and allegory pure and simple. Some
of the Bible is in.spired and some is not. The Gospels and
Apocalypse, for example, are in the former category ; the
Epistles have no claim to inspiration whatever. All this Ls

modestly described on the title-page as " An elucidation of
the principles of a consistent and verifiable interpretation ol
Scripture"! — apparently in the most sublime unconscious-
ness that the same system might be applied with equal
success to demonstrate the Divine origin of the Veda, the
Koran, or even of the "Gold Plates" of that lamented
prophet the late Joe Smith himself. Of Mr. Collingwood's
quasi-Papal dogmatism, and of his curious want of a])precia-
tion of the real difficulties which beset men of science in
connection with the perfectly definite statements contained
in the Bible, it is needless to speak at length. Save for a
horrible dread that it would lead to the publication of
reams more of such stuff, we would suggest that Mr. Kinns
and he should discuss the question of the interpretation of
the account of the Creation with which the Bible opens.
Who would convert whom would be a matter of very curious
speculation indeed.

CasselFs Latin-English Dictionary. Revised, enlarged,
and partly re-written. By J. R. V. Marchast, M.A.
(London: Cassell & Co. 1886.) — When we contrast the
volume whose title heads this notice with the Dymock's
" Ainsworth " to which lads were condemned in the days of
our fathers, we cannot help congratulating the present race
of schoolboys upon the appearance of so valuable an aid to
an intelligent study of classical Latin as this. Amon» the
excellent features which distinguish Mr. Marchant's book
may be mentioned the very numerous quotations from the
most familiar Latin authors, illu.«trative of the different
meanings and use of words, the etymologies, and the his-
torical and geographical explanations introduced into so
many of the various articles. As a dictionary to aid a
middle-form boy at a public school in construing, it would
not be very easy to improve upon the one before us.

British Stalk-eyed Crustacea, aiid Sjdders. By F. A. A.
Skuse. (London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, ife Co.
1887.) — Yet another volume of the delightful "Youuf
Collector " series, in which Mr. Skuse discourses in an in-
teresting way of those two popularly ill- understood classes of
the Arthropoda, the Crustacea and the Arachnida of the
British Islands. Surely no intelligent lad or youno man
can read this little book through without being inspired
with a burning zeal to study and collect lobsters, crabs,
prawns and spiders straightway. Within its 128 pages will
be found a description of the structure, habitat, ami manners
and customs generally of all the well-established British
species of the creatures treated of, with explicit directions
for capturing and preserving them for study. No less than
thirty-seven well-executed wood-engravings (one containing
twelve or fourteen separate figures) illustrate the text, and
render easy the identification of any specimen the col-
lector may secure. We neither know, nor pretend to know,
anything of publishing in its strictly commercial aspect, but
we fail to see how such a work as this can yield a profit at
the singularly low price charged for it.

Yussuf the Guide. By Geo. Maxville Fenn. (London:
Blackie & Son. 1887.)— Albeit Mr. Fenn is scarcely at his
best in the work before us, he has given us a sufliciently
stirring story of the adventures of a sick lad restored to
health and strength by a journey in Asia Minor, in company
with his two guardians, IMr. Preston, a University professoi-,
and an altogether impossible lawyer, Mr. Burns. In
Smyrna they pick up Yussuf, who subsequently acts as
their guide through the wild country which they explore :
a Turk so grave, patient, brave, resourceful, and gentleman-
like that he may well have been drawn from the life. The
account of the escajie of the party, together with another
Englishman and his wife from the mountain fastness of the
brigands, who are holding them for ransom, will be read

238

♦ KNOW^LKDGE ♦

[August 1, 1887.

straight through by every boy without laying the book
down.

Of school books on our table we have Moffatia English
Grammar (London : Moflatt & Paige), suitable enough for
ordinary middle-class schools and Civil Service examina-
tions ; and CasseU's Combination Test-Cards (London :
C'assell & Co.), consisting of packets of cards containing
arithmetical questions up to the Seventh Standard. If we
admit the necessity of teaching the more recondite branches
of arithmetic to children who have to earn their bread by
daily labour, these cards seem well adapted to their purpose.
For ourselves, we should regard the time as much better
employed in instructing the boys how to dovetail pieces of
wood, and the gii-ls to scrub out a room or cook potatoes.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR AUGUST.

By F.E.A.S.

HE student, will, of course, watch the sun for the
spots which have begun to a]ipear on the sun
after a protracted period of quiescence. During
the early mnining of August 19 there will be a
total eclipse of the sun, but only the end of it
will be visible when the sun rises (in, and in the
neighbourhood of, London) in the E.N.E. at
4h. 53in. A.M. At this time the effect presented
will be that of a small black semicircular notch
cut out of the S.E. part of the sun's disc. The eclipse will end at
5h. 6'7m. A.M . so that scarcely anything of the phenomenon will be
seen in Great Britain. The aspect of the night skj' is shown in
map viii. of " The Stars in their Seasons." Shooting stars should
be looked for on the niglit of August 10. Watch may, in fact, be
kept on those immediately preceding and following it. Mercury is
a morning star throughout the month, and attains his greatest
western elongation (18° 36') in the evening of the 16th. He may
be caught by the naked eye about the middle of the month before
sunrise to the north of east, near the horizon. Venus is an evening
star all through August. She attains her greatest brilliancy on the
IGth, and about that date may be seen with the naked eye in bright
sunshine by anyone who knows exactly where to look for her. In
the telescope she looks like the moon when about four days old,
and is a lovely object. Jupiter is low down in the west in Virgo,
and is only fairly visible at all early in the month. Saturn, Uranus,
and Neptune are one and all invisible. The moon is full on the
3rd at 8h. 40-lm. in the evening, enters her last quarter at
llh. 36-5m. P.M. on the 11th, is new" at 5h. 38-6m, A.M. on the 19th,
and enters her first quarter at Sh. 21-2m. in the evening of the 25th.
There will be a partial eclipse of the moon during the afternoon
and evening of the 3rd, but at no time will more than -419 of the
moon's diameter be obscured. When the moon rises in London at
7h. 35m. P.M., she will already be immersed in the earth's
penumbra, and her tirst contact with our shadow will be
just beginning. The middle of the eclipse will happen at
8h. 48 9m. P.M. ; the second contact with the shadow at lOh. 2'lm. ;
and the last contact with the penumbra at llh. 259m. p.m.
Five occultations of fixed stars by the moon will occur during
August at hours more or less convenient to the ordinary amateur
observer. On August 8, 26 Ceti, a star of the OJth magnitude, will
disappear at the moon's bright limb at llh. 57m. p.m., at an angle
of 105° from her vertex. Its reappearance will happen at Ih. 2m.
the next morning at the dark limb of the moon at an angle from
her vertex of 240°. On the 22nd, 65 Virginis, of the 6th magnitude,
will disappear at the moon's dark limb at 8h. 34m. P.M., at .an angle
of 92° from her vertex. She will have set before it reappears.
On the 27th, B.A.C. 6081, of the 6th magnitude, will disappear at
the dark limb at Ch. 59m. P.M. at an angle of 51° from the vertex
of the moon, reappearing at her bright limb at 7h. 14m. P.M. at a
vertical angle of 277°. On the 28th, £' Sagittarii, a star of the 6th
magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb at Gh. 64m. p.m.
at a vertical angle of 36°, its reappearance at the bright
limb of the moon happening at 7h. 56m. at an angle of 304°
from her vertex. Lastly, on the 31st, 45 Capricorni will
disappear at the moon's dark limb at 15 minutes after mid-
night at an angle from her vertex of 108°. Its reappear-
ance will not happen until between Ih. and 2h. a.m. on
September 1. At noon on August 1 the moon is in Sagittarius
(" The Seasons Pictured," plate xri.), which she quits for Capri-
cornus at 10 P.M. on the 2nd. She remains in Capricornus until

midnight on the 4th, and at that hour enters Aquarius. Her passage
through this last-named constellation occupies until 2h. a.m. on the
7th, and she then passes into Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured," plate
xxii.), in which gre.at straggling constellation she is travelling until
7h. 30m. A.M. on the 10th. She then arrives at the boundary of the
most northerly part of Cetus, and when she has traversed this, at
5 o'clock the next morning, she enters Aries (" The Seasons Pic-
tured," plate sxiii.). At 2h. 30m. A.M. on the 12th she passes out
of Aries into Taurus. Travelling through Taurus, we find her at
llh. P.M. on the 14th on the confines of the northern prolongation
of Orion. She passes through this in llj hours, and emerges in
Gemini. Her journey through Gemini is completed by 4h. A.M. on
the 17th, when she crosses into Cancer (" The Seasons Pictured,"
plate xxiv.). Here she remains until 2h. 30m. in the afternoon of
the 18th, at which hour she enters Leo. She leaves Leo for Virgo
at midnight on the 20th (" The Seasons Pictured," plate sxv.) : .and
Virgo, in turn, for Libra at 9h. P.M. on the 23rd (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxvi.). The course of her journey over Libra brings
her, at 4h. 30m. P.M. on the 25th, to the western edge of the narrow
northern strip of Scorpio, through which she has passed by Ih. 30m.
next morning, and come out in Ophiuchus. At 6 P.M. on the 27th
she quits Ophiuchus for Sagittarius. She is travelling through
Sagittarius until 4h. A.M. on the 30th, and then leaves it and enters
Capricornus ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.). She is still in
Capricornus at midnight on the 31st.

An extraordinary mistake, or misprint, appears in "The Face of
the Sky for July," where the occultation of Aldebaran by the
moon, which really occurred at 3h. 16m. in the early morning of the
17th, is announced to happen in the afternoon I of that day; and
" bright sunshine " is printed for " bright twilight."

<Bnv W^Wt Columiu

By "Five of Clubs."

MATHEWS ON WHIST.

(Rearranged, partly rewritten, and occasionally corrected in
accordance with modern views.)
Play Second Hand — continued.
F you are strong in trumps, and have the Ace, King,
and two more of your right-hand adversary's lead,
there are two ways to play :^Either pass it the first
time, or else put on the Ace, and play the suit on to
force your partner. If weak in trumps put on the
Ace, but do not continue the suit. [In modern play
the King would be the right card to put on. More-
over, in some cases, you would not, when strong in
trumps, follow either of the courses here suggested, but play the
King and lead trumps. Even if weak in trumps, it would some-
times be well, with such command in one adversary's suit, to lead
trumps, after playing the King. Especially if your partner had
declared strength in another plain suit, while you had protection in
the third.]

Holding Ace, Knave, ten, and a small card of the suit led by
your right-hand adversary, it is best in trumps to play the ten, the
small card in plain suits. For in trumps a good player with King,
Queen le.ads the lowest ; in other suits the King. Thus in the latter
case an honour is certainlj- .behind you [that is, either on your left or
witli your partner], and in whichever hand it may be, you can do no
good by putting on the ten. Py keeping the three together, you
make it impossible for your adversary to get one trick in the suit
[if your partner holds the honour, while the adversaries can make
but that trick if the one on your left holds it and returns trumps].
[If, however, you have an established long suit, and no re-entering
card in plain suits, it is better to play the small card even in
trumps ; for this reason, that you thus have a better chance of making
the last trick in trumps and bringing in your long suit. It is to be
remembered that though the lead of a small trump is made by good
players from King, Queen, and others, it does not necessarily imply
that the trump leader holds both King and Queen, even though you
hold Ace, Knave, ten, and another. On the contrarj', it is rather
more probable that he does not than that he does.]

There are situations where even good players differ. If a Queen
is laid on your right hand, and you have Ace or King, and two small
ones, you should certainly cover the Queen. But if you have Ace or
King, ten, and a small one, it is better to pass the trick, for after
p)assing you remain with the major tenace if your partner take the
trick with King or Ace, and the original leader cannot make a trick
in the suit. If you had covered, he must have made a trick (apart,
of course, from ruffing), as he would lie with minor tenace against

August 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

239

the major tenace between yon and your partner — assuming the
King or Ace with your partner. If your partner has the Knave,
passing the Queen loses a trick ; but the odds are greatly against this.
[If the lead has been from four cards, leader cannot have followed
the accepted principles of play if as second place you hold ten ; for
these only allow the lead of Queen from Queen, Knave, ten, &c.,
except in cases of emergency, when Queen may sometimes be led
from Queen, Knave, nine. The play also in the case considered
would depend partly on the score and on yotir strength in
trumps.]

Plat Second Hand, Secosd Eouxd.

It frequently happens that the adversary on the right hand, having
won his partner's lead with the Ace or King, returns the Knave.
In this case do not put on the Queen, as the probability is that, if
you play a small card, third player will not finesse, but play the
best if he hold it. On all such occasions, however, play without
hesitating, lest you should direct a skilful adversary to an advan-
tageous finesse.

If your right-hand adversary wins, and returns his partner's lead,
should you hold the best and a small one, play the small one. Third
player will probably finesse (if holding the second and fourth best,
or second best to fourth best led), so that if your partner has the
third best he will probably make it. If your adversary on the left
is a bad player, however, I would not advise this ; for bad players
never finesse when they ought to. [If you are weak in trumps it is
tmsafe to venture on vmderplay of this sort, unless it is done in order
to retain command in the one suit of which you are afraid, for which
purpose it is sometimes the most prudent course.]

Plat Third Haxd.

Win with the lowest of a sequence to show your strength in your
partner's suit. [In modern whist it is considered best to play the
lowest (if any card) of a sequence to a trick, alike to the lead of
an adversary and to a partners lead, save on those rare occasions
when underplay is proper ; but, as will be seen under that head,
Mathews considers it often desirable to keep the adversary in igno-
rance, in his own suit, by playing the highest of a sequence.]

If your partner leads the nine or ten, and you have an honour
with only one small card, put on the honour. If with the honour
you hold two or more small ones, do not put on the honour. If you
hold Ace, whether with one small card or more, put on the Ace
invariably, for it is better that your partner should fiiiesse in his own
suit than you.

When your partner leads a card of which you have the best and
third, and your right-hand adversary puts on the fourth, the second
only remaining, it is a commonly received but erroneous opinion
that the chance of succeeding in the finesse is equal to the chance
of failing ; but calculation will show that as the last player has one
card more than his partner, the chance is in corresponding proportion
in favoor of the second best lying with the fotirth player. For
example, if second and fourth players held each of them three
cards, the odds will be three to two against the finesse succeeding.

[The play of the fotirth best second in hand is, however, in
itself suggestive either of shortness in the suit, or of finesse. If
the fourth is the lowest of two, the other is of course the second,
and your finesse is safe. If fourth player holds no more, then your
finesse is useless if your partner holds second best, and a failure if
fourth player holds it — the next round being probably ruffed.
Regarded as a matter of probabilities, note that the play of fourth
best, by showing that a number of small cards in the suit lie between
the fourth player and your partner, diminishes the probability that
second best lies on your left. On the whole, it is best to play the
third best, unless a single trick is wanted to save or win the game
or make a particular point.]

[Mathews does not consider specially the case of Ace, Queen,
with or without others, here or anywhere else. We may safely con-
clude from his silence that the finesse of the Queen, except where
one trick wins or saves the gsjne or a point, was regarded in liis
time as too obvious to need enforcing. It is clear from his remarks
on the finesse that he would not have had any doubt as to the
propriety of the course now customarily adopted. The cases imme-
diately following clearly show this. In fact, players finessed more
boldly in Mathews' day than they do now.]

With Ace, Knave, and another, finesse the Knave to your partner's
suit if strong in trumps ; but, otherwise, play the Ace. In trumps,
with Ace, Knave, and another, it is always right to finesse the Knave
to your partner's lead.

[The finesse of the Knave is decidedly wrong, both in trumps,
and with a plain suit whether you are strong or weak in trumps.
In every case, play the Ace and rettim the Knave ; you wiU save five
tricks in the long run by pursuing this cottrse for two that you
will lose.]

If your partner leads ten, and you hold Ace, Knave, and another

or others, pass the ten invariably — unless one trick saves or makes
the game or a particular point.

If your partner leads the Ace and Queen of a suit, of which yon
have the King and two others, win his Queen that you may not
stop his suit. [Leading Ace, then Queen, indicates the Knave in
reserve ; but before the distinction was adopted of leading the
Queen second if with no more than four in suit, and the Knave if
with five or more, Mathews' rule of covering the card led from the
remaining top sequence was too absolute. It would be wrong, for
instance, if your partner had shown such strength in trumps or
plain suits that you could feel sure of his re-entering. For by
taking his Queen you may leave his long suit protected in the
adversaries' hands, where by passing, you and he are able to take
out four rounds in the suit certain. This applies to our modern
play of the Knave : there are cases when the King should not be
played, precisely because the lead of the Knave indica'es length in
the suit — though usually the Knave calls for the King.]

It your right-hand adversary " calls " for honours, and your
partner leads through him, if you hold Ace or King with nine and
a small one, you should finesse the nine.

[This is one of the few rules given by Mathews which applies
specially to long whist. In short whist the occasion for this finesse
arises if your right-hand adversary, especially if he has turned an
honour, calls for trtmips. Because then your partner, leading
t'nrough him notwithstanding the call, shows such strength that the
finesse of the nine is probably safe. It is better, though, from Ace,
nine, than from King, nine. In either case, if the nine makes, lead
the high card at once ; it is the best way of helping your partner
against the enemy's trumps, which lie weak on his right, strong on
his left.]

If, after ten tricks have been played, there remains one entire
suit [save for a solitary discard], and your partner lead, you holding
King, t€n, and another, your play must depend on the position. If
yon have made five tricks, or otherwise need two for a particular
point or to save or win the game, put on the King. But if you have
made six, or need but one more point, you can make sure of it
thus : — If your right-hand adversary put on an honour, win it [you
thus remain with the second best guarded] : if he plays a small one,
put on the ten [and still you remain with guarded second best].

©m Cftfsfsi Columiu

By "Mephisto."

ENDINGS FROM ACTUAL PLAY.
A siSGULABLT ingenious termination of a game, wherein White
had given the odds of a Knight.

Amatel'b.

Black.

rwi.

1 '^^ ^ rgi^r^i^

WBrra.
Mb. F. H. Lewis.

White proceeded as follows : —

Kt to Kt5 P to KE3

KxKt
The first of a series of brilliant moves. If Black play either P >< R
or P X Kt, White woidd reply with Q to Ro, and would soon obtain
a mating position.

QxR
Kt to R7 Q to Bo

Q to B3

240

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[August 1, 1887.

Following up the attack, and better than Kt x R, if Black play
E to Kfq, White would continue with R to KBsq, &c.

Kt to Q2

P to KKt3 Q to K2

R to Ksq Q to Qsq

Q to R5 Kt to B3

This looked a likely move.

Q to B5
\ery good 1 Threatening Kt x Kt (ch) and Q to R7 mate.

Kt to Qi
Curiously enough, there is nothing better but to retire.
B X P I P X B

If Black play anything else, his general prospects would not
improve much— i.e.. P to Kt3. Q to R3, and if K x Kt, B to Kt5(ch) !
E to K6 1

Amateur.
Black.

Write.
Mk. F. H. Lewis.

A most remarkaljle combination of brilliant moves that do not often

occur in actual play.

PxR
Q to KtC (ch) K to Rsq

Kt to Kt.5 ! Q to K2

Q V p (ch) K to Kt.sq

B to R7 (ch) K to Rsq

B to B5 (ch) K to Ktsq

B X P (ch) Resigns.

Another curious ending played by the same player : -
Amateur.

Black.

i

^/

m

//^^

/

^

White,

Mr. F. H. Lewis.

The game tcrtBinated as follows : —

White. Blark.

E to Kt6
Ilayed, no doubt, in the hope of bringing about a surprise mate by
means of B to K'l, followed by R x Rf (ch).

R to Ksq.
This is an attacking as well as a defensive move.

P to QR4
Kt X P (ch)
Black intended to surprise his opponent, and did not therefore
expect to be attacked himself.

K to R2

Kt to B5 P to R5

KtxP
A brave and captivating Knight 1

BxKt
It is plain that White can equally win if Black does not take the
Knight,

KR to K7 R to Kt8 (ch)

K to R2 R (Kt8) to Kt7

R X B (ch) K to R3

Black was mistaken in believing that this would give him a better
chance for escape than K to R sq.

K to Kt3 I
Good I If R to R7 (ch), Black escapes r\d K to Kt4.

R X P (ch)

K to Rl Resigns

End position in the fourteenth game of the match Blackburne v.
Zukertort : —

Blackburne.
Black.

'^p ^p ^p ^p
iB II 11 ■

m i

WM,^ ^^ ^^ ,.,^^^

White.
Zukertort.

Black won as follows : —

Kt to R3 (ch)

K to Kt6 K to B2

A verj' subtle manceuvie, which forces the game. If White, instead
of taking the Kt, would play anything else, fay B to R4, Black
wins by Kt to Kt sq, K to B5, P to B5, ard Black, by giving up
his BP, obtains both the White P's on B6 and Q.5, remaining with
two passed Pawns ahead.

K X Kt K X P

K to R5 K to B4

B to E7 P to K5

K to R4 P to K6

K to R3 K to K5

K to Kt2 P to B6 (ch)

K to Kt3 P to B7

K to Kt2 K to Q6

Resigns

Contents of No. 21.

PAGE

Religion and the Unknown. By

Richard A. Proctor 193

The Star of Bethlehem. By Slchard

A. Proctor 194

Freaks of the Wind. By Henry J.

f^Iack Iil3

Force and Energy 196

Tl e Southern Skie? 197

Charts for Groat Circle Sailing .. 199
The Voyages of Columbus Charted.

By Richard A. Proctor 2f2

The Great Lick Telescore. By

Richard A. Proctor 206

By

PAGE
■204

207

207
209

Origin of Languages

The Japanfse Magic Mirror,

J. Painell

Cricket and Base-ball By Richard

A. Procter

Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor . .

Reviews 21U

Our Whist Column. By Richard

A. Proctor 213

Our Chess Column. By "Me-

phisto" 214

The Face of the Sky for July. By

P.R.A.S 210

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" Knowledge" as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Subscription per annum are therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To the East Indies, Cbina, &c 10 6

To South Africa 12 0

To Aiistralia, New Zealand, &c. 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
end Egypt, the Subgcription is 78. 6d., ae her«tofore.

September 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO\VLEDGE ♦

241

\j

' ^-^ ILLUSTRATED^MAGAZINE .
[EffiLIlTERATUM^JkRI

LONDON: SEPTEMBER 1, 1887.

WOLF, MASTIFF, AND SPANIEL.

RE^IE^IBER once, in Boston, being startled
and somewhat pained to hear America's great
humorist, Wendell Holmes, enunciate the
opinion, with which, as expressed in piint,
I had long been familiar enough, that, as
seen from certain points of view, Englishmen
are children compared with their American
cousins. I -was not comforted bj' the remembrance that in
his " Professor at the Breakfast-Table," where the opinion is
expressed, he had said that he would not let out the fact
of the real American feeling about Old World folk, except
in converse with Englishmen sensible enough to avoid
mistaking the feeling for personal conceit. Unfortunately,
the proposition has at least some degree of truth in it,
though be it noted that an immense projwrtion of the
American population are fully as childish about the same
matters, though in another way.

Holmes was talking, however, of Americans of the old
England type — to be found throughout the States, but
certainly not forming the majority of the present Americ;\n
people. It must be admitted even by the most anti-
Bostonian Americans (who. indeed, may abuse Boston, but
Americans are all proud of her) that the old England type
is the most innately independent t\-pe of manhood the world
has known. People more free-and-easy, more don't-care-a-
cussative, if one might use such a word, there are in other
parts of America, as, indeed, there are in many parts of the
old country — the mining districts for example — but there
are none who have more definitely, more logically, or
therefore more thoroughly adopted the faith that men are
entitled to full freedom and individual independence.

It is true enough, as Holmes has said, that "a whole
museum of wigs and masks and lace coats and gold sticks
and grimaces and phrases is still used in the Old World
puppet-shows." " I don't think," he says, " that we
Americans ever understand the Englishman's concentrated
loyalty and specialised reverence. But then we do think
more of a man as such (barring some little difficulties about
race and complexion we will touch on presently) than any
people that ever lived did think of him. Our reverence is
wider, if it is less intense. We have caste among us to
some extent, it is true ; but there is never a collar on the
American wolf dog, such as you often see on the English
mastiff, notwithstanding his robust, hearty individuality."

If the collar is now very often not seen on our English
mastiffs, it is too true, as Holmes has said elsewhere, that
the mark of the collar is apt to be left. Considering the
English people generally, it may be .said that true freedom
of thought is tolerated only, not welcome in England, at
present. It is " struggled up to and held antagonistically,
not spontaneously," save in a few altogether exceptional
cases, where men who were in advance of their time a few

generations back have handed down as a family ti-adition a
true faith in the dignity of manhood, and the right of men
to individual independence.

Such exceptional cases are not understood, I think, by
Americans, even by such as Holmes, Emerson, and the like ;
nor can they readily understand that in other cases fulness
of mental freedom may be attained even by those who at a
great price have purchased it. " You may teach a quadru-
ped," says Holmes, '• to walk on his hind legs ; but he is
always wanting to walk on all fours." The comparison is
unfair, and a trifle rude, a fault not common with Boston's
genial humorist. The freedom of mind which Holmes re-
gards as the birthright of America has come to the American
through his English blood. It has fuller play in America
and so finds freer expression ; but it is of English origin.
When that freedom was won, America, regarded as a nation,
had no existence. Britons in America fought Britons from
over the water (Britons ruled by a German king) for free-
dom, and fought successfully — even as Englishmen at home
fought other Englishmen, ruled by a Scottish king, for their
rights a century before, and won them.

When America first became American, liberty had
already been achieved for the new-bom nation. And if,
at this day, the whole population of England could be
transplanted to America (as a consequence of some such
event as Emei-son imagined in his " English Traits," and as
some less friendly Americans conceive, oddly enough, to be
probable) the result would be not a diminution of America's
independence of feeling, but a vast development of it. There
would be a new growth of Bostonian Americanism (by
which I mean the spirit of resistance to popular as well as
to personal tyranny), not any retardation of America's
development as a great free nation.

Unless I am greatly mi.staken — and if I am many
Americans have made the same mistake — such dangers as
there are for America's future would not be increased, but
measurably diminished, by any considerable influx of that
strain of British blood to which America owes the men who
made her what she is, as well as those of the present era
who stand highest in European esteem. It would be idle
to say that America's future is threatened by no dangers ;
Englishmen in particular recognise one danger to which
America is exposed, against which all the resolution of her
most steadfast citizens will ere long be required. Her
friends hope, and fully believe, that she will surmount the
dangers which lie ahead, even as she has surmounted those
which surrounded her in the past. But it is an easy
prophecy to say that if or when she overcomes those
dangers it will be by the exercise of qualities akin to those
which the great Americans of a century ago displayed — and
those Americans were, without exception, British — purely
British by birth or by descent, and actuallv British in the
sense in which Canadians, Australians, and Cape Colonists
are regarded as British until such time as they cast loose the
ties which connect them with their kinsfolk in the old
home-nest.

Those take but a purblind view of history as well as
biology who imagine that three or four generations— or ten
or twelve, for that matter — affect the quality of race blood ;
insomuch that Americans who abuse British qualities, and
Englishmen who abuse American qualities, show themselves
(individually only, thank God !) of the nature of those birds
whom the good old proverb denounces because they " foul
theii- own nest."

It cannot, unfortunately, be denied that in the England
of to-day false loyalties are still rife, though they are
steadily diminishing in prevalence. When Gorgius IV.,
of Brentford, visited Haggisland (as Thackeray presents the
"o'er true tale "), the Baron of Bradwardine — a man worth

242

♦ KNOW^LKDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

more to the liuman race than all the stalwart Porkers of
Brawnswick who ever ruled over Brentford, or than even
all the monarchs who have swayed the destinies of greater
nations— abased himself before that padded humbug. But
probably while Gorgius IV. was alive not five in ten saw
aught of degradation in such abasement, and not two in the
five would have ventured to express their feelings. Many
doubtless envied the Sheriff his right (let us hope he had
some right) to pocket the goblet out of which the First
Gentleman in Europe — alas, I have let the august cat out
of the awful bag I I should have said, " the august and
most gracious ruler of Brentford " — had taken, after his
fashion, more wine than was good for him.l

The great man — most emphatically, I do not mean
Gorgius IV. — by an odd chance, sat down on the goblet,
and not only broke it into fragments, but ruined his own
coat-tails. Many laughed when they heard of this. But
it was not because they thought his purpose of consecrating
that goblet to future uselessness was an absurd one. They
only laughed, after the fashion of human nature, because
that purpose had failed. Many in those days — and, alas 1
I fear many are of the same mind now — would not have
thought it altogether absurd if Sir Walter Scott (again the
cat gets out of the b:ig — I should have said the Baron of
Bradwardiue) had made a pennon of his damaged swallow-
tails, and let them wave thereafter in the baronial halls of
Bishopsbridge in memory of the service in which they had
suflered injury.

In our times manners and customs are no longer as they
were in the " good old days " of Brentford. Snobs there are
and always be; these poor (in .spirit) we have .always with
us. When we remember how a set of snobs (women, too,
whose degradation pains the mind more than any number
of masculine snobs) rushed in where a certain princess had
been eating cherry-pie, and seized the cherry-stones left by
her august lips upon the precious plate whence she had
eaten, and preserved those rather unpleasant objects as
sacred relics — we cannot speak of the Brentford people as
altogether regenerate even in these days. I have even heard
of American women who have not felt it degrading to pro-
claim that they have lost no chance of seeing — seeimj ! — the
niece of Gorgius IV., now Queen in Brentford. But at
least no one whom the world respects has ever debased
himself in our time, or in any British country, as did Brad-
wardine's B.aron when the century was yet young.

A yet better sign is this, that those who in our time
reject the false loyalties which degrade no longer show by a
contrary fault how strongly the spring had been bent the
other way 1 Men are beginning to learn in my own loved
country, as the wiser have long learned in the United
States, that it is a weakness to be moved either one way or
another by titles and dignities, by wealth, by influence, or
by power. It begins to be recognised that one v.'ho shows
either subservience on the one hand, or discourtesy on the
other, towards those whom the silly cant of old times called
persons of rank (as if there were only one w.ay of ranking
people, and that way a foolish one), or whose conduct is in ant/
respect whatsoever dHWexent towards them from what it would
be towards others possessing similar qualities, mental and
moral, has not yet reached the dignity of full-grown man-
hood. Such folk are not, indeed, to my judgment, rightly
described by Holmes as " children," in the sense in which
the savage is a child. They are rather the hobble-de-hoys
of civilisation. Their "your majesty," "my lord," and so
forth suit them very well, even as the " sir " with which the
stripling continues to address the pastors and masters of his
boyhood is appropriate enough to the stage of life through
which the lad is passing. It is better than discourtesy, pre-
cisely .as the formal politeness of tiie youth to those above him

for the timein standingand experience is betterthan abrusque
manner or rude demeanour, and promises a more dignified
manhood. But it is only appropriate where there actually
is a difTerence of standing in the qualities constituting the
fulness of manhood ; and no man who respects the dignity
of manhood will recognise any such difference as between
the titled and the untitled, the wealthy and the poor, those
possessed of power and those who have no other sw.ay but
o'er themselves. When the stripling who has very rightly
shown a respectful demeanour towards his seniors becomes a
man, neither formal courtesy on the one hand, nor rudeness
on the other, becomes him. And what is true of individual
manhood is true also of the manhood of civilisation, which
has not yet, however, been fully reached in any country or
among any race either in the old world or in the new.

There is something to be said, after all, in defence, if not
in favour of the form of loyalty which Americans, according
to Wendell Holmes, so little understand. It is the rudi-
mentary representative in our time of what was once a true
and very useful form of loyalty. The ancestors of Baron
Bradwardine, for instance, when they showed in council or
in field their loyal devotion either to the ruler of Haggis-
land or to their own immediate chieftain, showed loyalty to
their country or their clan. The faitliful service, even the
personal service, of king or chief, was often in those days
equivalent to faithful service in the common cause of all
who were led by him. The modern Baron of Bradwardine,
Sheriff of the capital city of Haggisland, no warrior but a
wizard, with his pen did not present a very dignified scene
when he s.at upon the goblet from which the i-oyal lips of
Brentford's king had drunk wine ; nor was there any value
for his country in what he thus endured in the royal
cause ; but the worthless loyalty he thus ingloriously dis-
played was derived from what had been true loyalty among
his predecessors. Being akin to a quality which when it
throve best led to deeds of heroism it could not be wholly
contemptible ; yet could it no more be compared with the
valuable loyalty of old days than the boot licking of a
modern courtier can ba compared with the devotion of a
Bayard to his country.

It must be admitted, however, that the loyalty of our
times is sometimes hardly saved, even by its remote kinship
with true self-sacrificing loyalty — displayed towards a person
but in the cause of a people — from becoming absurd, if not
contemptible. The mastiff of the fable, whose neck showed
the mark of the collar, even when the collar was removed,
was not .altogether proud of the distinction. Perh.aps h.ad he
been a lady's spaniel he might have regarded it as a distinc-
tion : in that case when the wolf asked what it meant,
he might have replied (always providing the wolf had
not eaten him up first) that he was proud to we.ar his
mistress's collar, and could therefore have no objection to
bear the visible traces it had left on his neck. But then
the moral of the fable would have gone more strongly
against that spaniel than against ^^isop's mastiff. To the
latter the wolf simply objected that he preferred liberty and
hunger to slavery aud a full stomach : he would have
answered the spaniel more forcibly.

The moral of the modified fable is not far to seek.
Americans who, like Dr. Wendell Holmes, somewhat con-
temptuously regard the mark of the collar on the British
mastifl^, may understand from the experience of their own
nation, diractly sprung from, nay, made hi/ the British race
bearing snc'a a mark, that it implies no real degradation of
character. It ls but skin deep, and has been shown again
and again to be consistent with faithful courage and steady
loyalty of the truest kind. Our British race knows in
America, as in the old home — and the nations know — that
personal loyalty, though no longer meaning quite what it

September 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

243

did of yore, is still very closely akin to true patriotism.
But the noisy British yelp of poodledom, just now heard
rather too frequently, both in the old country and abroad,
is not pleasing to the ears either of native Britons or of the
descendants from old Britain here. There must be a strain
of savagery, thit is, of undeveloped race-manhood, in all
races, even the most advanced — even as in the world at
large there are still present races akin in all their ways to
the Neolithic, even to the PaL-eolithic races of pleistocene
time. But these antiquated types are not the credit but the
disgrace of the times which they have unhappily survived.

THE STORY OF CREATION.

a plain account of evolution.
By Edward Clodd.

PART II.
CHAPTER VII.— SOCIAL EX01.VTlO'S.^(Co>icIu,h-ii.)

VOLVTIOX of J/orafe.— Man by himself
is not only unprogressive, he is also un-
moral. For where there is no society
there is no sin. Therefore the bases of
right and wrong lie in conduct towards
one's fellows ; the moral sense or con-
science is the outcome of social relations.
The common interests which impel to com-
bination involve praise or blame of the acts of each indi-
vidual in the degree that they aid or hinder the well-being
of all ; in other words, add to their pleasure or their pain,
and this praise and blame constitute the moral code, the
collective or tribal conscience. Society, like the units of
which it is made up, has to fight for its life, and all
primitive laws are laws of self-preservation. Self-preserva-
tion is based on sympathy between the several members,
and it is therefore the ultimate foundation of the moral
sense; whatever is helpful to it is rii]ht, whatever is a
hindi-ance to it is lurong. Although union involves limita-
tion and resti-aint, so that the units can no longer do exactly
as they like, self-interest comes into play, since a man best
insured respect for his own rights by respecting the rights
of others. Society is not possible where a man is not true
to his fellow ; there is, as the phrase goes, honour among
thieves, probably even among savages as low as the
Jolas of Gambia, every one of whom does as he likes,
the most successful thief being the greatest man. In
that model of sound and clear reasoning, so refreshing
a contrast to the tedious word-mongering of most writers
on ethics, Darwin's chapter on the growth of the moral
sense, he points out how man's instinctive sympathy would
lead him to value highly the approval of his fellow.s, and
how his actions would be determined in a high degi'ee by
their expressed wishes ; unfortunately, often by his own
selfish desires. But while the lower instincts, as hunger,
passion, and thirst for vengeance, are strong, they are not so
enduring or SJitisfying as the higher feelings which crave
for society and sympathv. And the yielding to the lower,
however gratifying for the moment, would he followed bj'
the feeling of regi-et that he had thus given way, and by
resolve to act differently for the future. Thus at last
man comes to feel through acquired and perhaps inherited
habit that it is best for him to obey his more persistent
impulses.* It is this self-accusing feeling of remorse
(literally, biting again), due to power of reflection on actions
and motives, which makes the difference so profound between

» " Descent of Man," chap. iv.

man and the lower animals, whose moral sense does not
advance beyond the stage which commits or avoids certain
acts according as they are remembered as pleasurable or
painful to the creature itself.

Special value would be set by the tribe upon brave and
unselfish acts as contributing to the commonweal ; praise
and honour would reward the doer, encouraging that love
of the tribe in which lay the germ of love of country. For
he who is not a good citizen cannot be a true patriot, and
he who holds not his fatherland dear can never become
a well-wisher to mankind. The conceptions which these
larger interests involve are, however, of very slow growth ;
for a long time the feeling of rightness and wrongness was
limited to acts harmful or helpful to the tribe ; in fact, that
which was a crime within its borders became a virtue, and
even a duty, outside them. What Cassar says of the ancient
Germans — " Robberies beyond the bounds of each com-
munity have no infamy, but are commended as a means of
exercising youth and lessening sloth " * — still applies to
barbaric peoples, and has its survival in the slowly-decaying
prejudices of civilised nations.

Morals are relative, not absolute ; there is no fixed stan-
dard of right and wrong by which the actions of all men
throughout all time are measured. The moral code
advances with the progress of the race ; conscience is a
growth. That which society in rude stages of culture
approves, it condemns at later and more refined stages,
although such is the power of custom in investing the old
with sanctity, such the persistence of authority and so deep
its interest against change, that moral qualities are grafted
upon acts apart from any question of their bearing upon
character. Such, for example, are the prohibitions against
certain foods and the commands to keep certain days sacred ;
such also the tyrannj- of caste, as among the Bhattiiis of India,
who regard dining at an liotel as a greater sin than murder.
Among the Mohammadan sect of the Wahhabees murder and
adultery are venial offences compared to the smoking of
tobacco. Among many savage peoples it is worse to marry
a girl within the tribe than to murder one of another tribe.
Among ourselves society condones a seduction, but not a
mesalliance, and forgives an offence against etiquette less
readily than an act of dishonour.

The alterations in criminal codes witness to progress in
morals. Not to go further back when laws punishing
heresy and witchcraft were in force ; within the present cen-
tury, people were burned to death for coining false money,
hanged for stealing a few shillingsworth of goods, and im-
prisoned for paltry debts, death being often the only bringer
of release. Among the sights of London were the proces-
sion of condemned criminals to Tyburn every six weeks,
and the auctions of negroes at the Poultry Compter. These ■
and a hundred other barbarities went on without protest
from the humane, whether Christians or non-Christians,
for the collective conscience did not question their right-
ness, and their abolition was ultimately due to the efforts
of individuals in whom a higher sense of human rights and
duties was aroused, and through whom the general moral
tone was advanced. That heightened tone, which is a yet
stronger note of our time, is, in the main, due to the pro-
gress of science, using the term as including not merely know-
ledge of the operations of nature, but knowledge of human
life as affected by divers causes, and of the community of
blood of all mankind.

It is this which has broken down the barriers of prejudice
between the classes of each nation and between nations
themselves, bringing home the force of the Italian proverb,
"tutto il mondo e paese " — " all the world is one country."

* " Comm.," book vi., chap. 23.

244

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

This larger view extends the range of human sympathy and
of the service of man to his fellows, as well as to the lower
animals, which that sympathy inspires. Terrible are the
ills which the misuse of knowledge in the hands of the
selfish and the ruffian inflicts, but those are as dust in the
balance against the good which has been wrought. The
conduct of a nation is no longer regulated solely by its own
interests without regard to what is due to others, neither
does it draw its sanction from the tribal legislation of a
barbaric past, but from what, after ages of dearly-bought
experience, has proved itself to be best for man. In this, as
in aught else which endures, nothing is rigid or final. Man's
capacity can never overtake his loftiest ideals, although in
their conception is the spur to their pursuit. What dead
weight of care do morals, thus regarded, lift from the heart
of man — what new energy is given to his efforts 1 Thought
becomes fixed on the evolution of goodness instead of on the
origin of evil ; time is set free from useless speculation for
profitable action ; evils once deemed inherent in the nature
of things, and therefore irremovable, are accounted for and
shown to be within his power to extirpate.

In proving the unvarying relation between cause and effect
in morals as in physics, science gives tho clue to the remedy
for moral ills. Moreover, that which man calls sin is shown
to be more often due to his imperfect sense of the true
proportion of things, and to his lack of imagination, than to
his wilfulness ; " evil is wrought by want of thought as well
as want of heart." As Herbert Spencer says, " feelings, not
ideas, govern the world," and the lack of imagination, which
is itself largely due to defective training of the intellect,
prevents a man from putting himself in the place of others,
and deprives him of that sympathy which is essential to the
unselfish life. The terrible mass of wrongdoing can only
be lessened and finally removed by suppression of the over-
self; by the maintenance of the balance between such care
of one's self as shall best fit us for the service of man, and
such thought for others as shall inflict on them no suffering
through our selfishness, nor loss through our gain.* The
crises of history are now rare when great principles or
causes, demanding the sacrifice of the individual life, are at
stake, but the world has never lacked a C'urtius, and the
spread of the scientific spirit has not proved fatal to the
heroic.

Especially is science a preacher of righteousness in making
clear the indissoluble unity between all life past, present,
and to come. We are only on the threshold of knowledge
as to the vast significance of the doctrine of heredity, but
we know enough to deepen our sense of debt to the past
and of duty to the future. We are what our forefathers
made us, j^his the action of circumstances on oui-selves, and
in like manner our children inherit the good and evil, both
of body and mind, that is in us. Upon us, therefore, rests
the dutj' of the cultivation of the best and of the suppression
of the worst, so that the future of the race suflers not at our
hands. More imperious is that duty, since nothing — not
omnipotence itself — can step in between us and the conse-
quences of our acts. Our sins are sins against our fellow-
man ; he alone can forrive us, although he cannot cancel
their effects. " Our deeds are like the children born to us,
they live and act apart from our own will. Nay, children
may be strangled, but deeds never." t

Self-conquest lies in obedience, obedience lies in know-
ledge ; and if to know that it rests with man to make or to
mar the lives of others be not sufficing stimulus to leirning
the true that we may do the right, no other motive can

* Let me commend to careful study the chapter on " The Culti-
vation of Human Nature " in Mr. Cotter Morison's recently pub-
lished " Service of Man."

■f '• Romola," p. 150.

avail. Experience shows that the threats of punishment
and the promises of a reward in an after-life have the
smallest effect on conduct ; their remoteness exhausts their
power, and, moreover, the belief in them is slowly decaying.
For the conduct of life brief maxims are enough ; all
the law and commandments are in the golden rule; all
ethics in the teaching that if man bo true to himself he
cannot be f;ilse to his fellows ; while in the knowledge
that life's demands will always exceed its opportunities we
may feel

How fair a lot to fill

Is left to each man still.

Evolution of Theology. — Theology may be defined as
dealing with man's relations to the god or gods in whom
he believes ; morals, as dealing with his relations to his
fellow-men.

Unfortunately, the two have become a good deal mixed
in the degree that conduct has been made to rest on sup-
posed divine commands as to what men shall and shall not
do, an assumption which serves a useful purpose as a
restraint upon the brutal and ignorant, but which has been
a powerful engine of terrorism in the hands of the un-
scrupulous and fanatical. The confusion, however, disap-
pears when it is seen that the evolution of bcHef in spiritual
beings is a thing apart from the evolution of morals which,
as has been shown, are based on social instincts and sym-
pathies guided by reason and strengthened by inheritance
and practice. For primitive theology is primitive science :
it is the outcome of man's first efforts to explain the nature
of his surroundings, and of the divers influences which
affect him for good, and, still more, for ill. At this stage of
his mental growth the emotions have foremost play, for
feeling precedes reason, and its exercise is more easy, its
results more rapid, although, on that account, less trust-
worthy. Moreover, the phenomena on which experience, as
the sole guide to true knowledge of things, is based, are too
vast for a single life to compass, even were the reasoning
faculty capable of dealing with them. It needed the lapse
of time ere man found out how his senses tricked him at
every turn, and ere he could form any conception of orderly
relation in his surroundings. So far as effort to supply his
lower needs sharpened his wits, he did not go far astray ;
in his struggle against material foes the weapons of his
warfare were carnal ; but as against spiritual powers he was
defenceless. Ignorance, always the mother of mystery,
made him the slave of his fears. The universal instinct of
the savage leads him to ascriba an indwelling life to every-
thing that moves, from the sun in heaven to the rustling
leaves, and the stones that roll from the hillside across his
path. In this he acts as we see shying horses, timid pups,
and young children act, until they learn from ex])erience
what things move of their own accord and what things do
not. Shakespeare might have added Caliban to "the
lunatic, the lover, and the poet," as of imagination all com-
pact, and on whom it plays such tricks,

That if it would but apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy.

Ever on the alert against enemies, man's fancy multiplied
them on all sides, and since he naturally attributed passions
like his own to the unseen beings in whom he believed, he
dreaded " some bringer of that " harm from every quarter.
The sun might shine, and the moon brighten the gloom
of night, but these were fitful in their coming and their
going, the black cloud-monsters swallowed them, and in the
wake of storm and lightning, dragons of the fire and the
wind, there followed destruction and death. Hence the
prominence of devil worship, of belief in baleful powers
amongst the lower races, and the averting of their wrath by

September 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

245

sacrifices ; hence, also, the persistence of like beliefs amongst
the illiterate in civilised countries.

This animism, or general doctrine of spiritual agents, was
largely fostered by personal experience .supplied by dreams
about both the dead and living, hallucinations, swoons, and
by the shadows or reflections which objects cast, all which
seemed to witness to the existence of a second self or soul,
that came and went at pleasure during life, and haunted
its old spots after death. The burial-place became the spot
where the living brought their gifts to the dread spirits of
the departed, whose worship is a leading feature of barbaric
religions. Combined with the belief in life wherever power
or movement were manifest, these elements have built up all
theologies from the polytheistic to the so-called monotheistic,
the common element in each being the ascription of per-
sonality to unseen powers. Given the intellectual stage
which a people has reached, the character of their gods can
be predicted, although the higher theologies will retain per-
sistent ti-aces of the barbaric conceptions of deity in which
they arose. They are not, as shallow carpers have argued,
the ingenious inventions of self-seeking men; they arise out
of the necessity of human nature to frame an explanation of
that which affects it deeply and constantly. Their roots
draw nutriment from a common soil ; the frenzy of the
savage and the ecstasy of the saint have a common base in
undisciplined imagination.

Theology is only puritied fiom gross conceptions in the
degree that it is purged of the false science with which, to
its own hurt, it identified itself in the past, and to the
remnants of which it still clings. The function of science
is to clarify the mind and to show how the beliefs of the
past are the myths of the present ; the duty of theology is to
readjust itself to what science proves to be true. Creeds
may die, rites and ceremonies become matters of archajological
interest, but human needs endure. Conduct is everything,
because duty never lapses. Theology, uncorrected, troubles
itself about the fate of a man who denies its speculative
doctrines ; morals bid him remember, as the one thing need-
ful, that what he sows he or his will reap.

In the papers now brought to an end a vast field, the
limits of which shade into the unlimited on all sides, has
been roughly surveyed. We began with the primitive
nebula, we end with the highest forms of consciousness ;
the story of creation is shown to be the unbroken record of
the evolution of gas into genius.

Let us epitomise what, after all, is itself but a summary
of a large subject : —

I. Description. — The universe is made u|) of Matter and
Power, both of which are indestructible. Matter contains
about seventy so-called elementary substances, which exist
in a free or combined state as .solid, liquid, or gaseous ; it is
also present throughout space in the imponderable state
known as etheieal. The motions of Matter are due to Power,
which acts in a twofold and ojjposite way, viz., as a pulling
or combining Force, and as a pushing or separating Energy.
Force inheres in matter, and acts continuously whatever
the distance ; Energy is both passive or stored up, and active
or in a state of transfer from body to body, the sum-total
being in gradual course of transfer to the ethereal medium,
where its power to do work ends. Ponderable matter is
distributed throughout space in bodies of various size and
density, from molecules to sidereal or solar systems. Such
a system is our central sun, with his company of planets .and
their moons and of comets and other wandering bodies.
The planet on which we live is a neaily spherical body,
three-fourths of which is covered by water, and the whole
surface enveloped by an atmosphere. So far as its rind or
crust can be examined, it is found to consist of solid rocks,

the lowest of which have been fused by fire, and the upper-
most laid down by water. The water-laid rocks contain the
remains of plants and animals which have escaped the
general destruction of organisms in the wear and tear which
the rocks undergo ceaselessly. The simplest fossils are
found in the oldest deposits, the more advanced in the
newer, and so on in ascending scale until we reach the
newest deposits, which contain the highest forms (see
Table, Knowledge, vol. is. p. 174). The existing species
of plants and animals compri.se the lowest and simplest,
which have persisted throughout the life-period, and the
highest, the vast majority of intermediate species having
died out. All plants and animals are made of the same
materials and have to do the same work. That work is
threefold : to feed, to multiply their kind, and to respond to
the outer world. The cells of which every part of every
plant and animal is built up are variously altered and
arranged according to the way in which that work Ls more
or less divided amongst the several parts. The main dif-
ference between plant and animal is in the mode of feeding ;
the plant is alone able, in virtue of its cljorophyll, to
convert the inorganic into the organic, and the animal
therefore depends on the plant for its food supply.

II. Explanation. — At the beginning of the present
universe matter was a diflfused v.iporous mass, unequally
distributed throughout space. Force, acting on the un-
stableness of tliat mass, drew its particles together, and the
resulting collision set free the stored-up energy, which
became active in two forms : the molar, causing the several
masses into which the ])articles had gathered to spin round
in an orbit, and the mi'lecular, causing a swinglike motion
among the particles, which motion was converted into light
and heat. The masses into which the primitive nebula was
broken up became sidereal or solar systems, each of which,
like the parent mass, threw oif, as it was indrawn towards
its common centre of gravity, masses which became the
planets, from which were detached, in like manner, masses
which became moons. Comets and other fugitive bodies
are probably due to expulsion. Both in its shape and
general condition the earth gives proof of this passage from
the gaseous to the solid state. As one of the smaller bodies,
it long ago ceased to shine by its own light, but a vast
period elapsed before it became cool enough to form a crust
and condense the vapours that swathed it into primeval
oceans. The simplest compounds of its elements were
formed first, the combinations becoming more and more
complex until they reached that subtile form which is the
physical basis of life, and which, starting as a structureless
jelly, has reached its fullest development in man. The
organic is dependent upon the inorganic, and mind, as a
special form of life, takes its place as the highest product of
the action of Power upon Matter. From the action of mind
on mind has arisen that social evolution to which, in a
supreme degree, is owing the progress of man in knowledge,
whereby he has subdued the earth.

The idtimate passage of all energy to the ethereal medium
involves the end of the existing state of things. But the
ceaseless redistribution of matter, force-clasped and energy-
riven, involves the beginning of another state of things.
So the changes are rung on evolution and dissolution, on
the birth and death of stellar systems — gas to solid, solid to
gas, yet never quite the same — mighty rhythmic beats of
which the earth's cycles, and the cradles and graves of her
children, are minor rhythms.

Thus the keynotes of Evolution are unity and continuity.
All things are made of the same stuff" differently mixed,
bound by one force, stirred by one energy in divers forms.
Force inheres in matter ; Energy acts through it ; therefore

246

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[Septembee 1, 1887.

both have neither more nor less claim to objective reality
than matter. And as science tends to the conclusion that all
kinds of matter are modifications of one primal element, and
that all modes of motion are varied operations of one power,
perchance these three — Matter, Force, and Energy — are one.

But into these and like speculative topics Evolution does
not intrude. Dealing with processes, and not with the
nature of things in tliemselves, it is silent concerning any
theories that may be formulated to gratify man's insatiate
curiosity about the whence and whither. And since it can
throw no light on the genesis of matter, or on the origination
of motion, or on the beginnings of life or of mind, it leaves
great and small alike a centre of impenetrable mystery. It
may correct, yet it does not curb, the imagination ; it has no
shibboleths the surrender of which can awaken dread ; its
temper is not aggi-essive, it seeks to inform the life with
the love of truth, and to let the facts which it reve;xls win
their way on their own merits ; since " a dogma learned is
only a new error — the old one was perhaps as good ; whereas
a spu-it communicated is a perpetual possession." Our sense
of the beauty of nature is not dimmed by fuller and truer
knowledge of her works and ways, while all that it really
suffices us to know for the discharge of life's duties, and all
the motive that is needed to impel us thereto, is supplied in
the theory which has so profoundly and permanently affected
every department of human thought.

Note. — After the needful revision incident to their serial
issue, these papers will be published, with illustrations, in
book form.

THE CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA.*

ONSIDERING that the fighting tendencies
of man are among his least noble qualities,
and are certainly those most obviously
suggestive of his descent through savage
ancestors from brute progenitors, there is
something painfully suggestive in the tone
in which the writer of the following matter
glorifies the biggest but most senseless war
the world has yet known. Had the North really fought, as
has been pretended in the face of all the facts, to free the
slave, and had that cause been as good as the liberty-loving
Englishman is apt to believe, the whole of the Soutli would
have been degraded by their share in the war, and the
United States could not have felt free of the shame thus
falling on a most important section of the nation. As a
mere matter of fact, however, the w;u' only indirectly
depended on the question of slavery, the differences really at
issue being political, and, in the main, most unworthy of
the sacrifices made on both sides during the four years of
fighting. As for the slavery of the coloured people, there
were, undoubtedly, shameful abuses in the system, and
these North and South were alike bound in duty to remove.
But no one who has ever lived among the coloured people
can doubt for a moment that general emancipation came a
great deal too soon. The race was and is utterly unfit for
independence within any civilised community, however
fully entitled to the freedom of savagery in the countries
from which they were wrongfully stolen. Freeing them
en masse was about as wise as turning loose all our domestic
animals would be. Giving them the franchise was simply
madness. Meant, however, as a deadly insult to the
defeated Southernei-s, it has enabled them (showing in this
characteristic cleverness) to get the dead weight of numbers
they before wanted, the whole black vote going now
(practically) with the former mastei's of the coloured race.

* The quoted matter is from the Cincinnati Commercial Gazette.

" Official returns show that about 2,653,000 soldiers
enlisted during the war in response to the successive calls
of President Lincoln, and that of this number 186,097 were
coloured troops.

" Reports show that the Northern and Southern armies
met in over two thousand skirmishes and battles. In 148
of these conflicts the loss on the Federal side was over 500
men, and in at least ten battles over 10,000 men were
reported lost on each side. The appended table shows that
the combined losses of the Federal and Confederate forces
in killed, wounded, and missing in the following engage-
ments were : —

" Shiloh, 24,000 ; Antietam, 18,000 ; Stone River, 22,000;
Chickamauga, 33,000 ; McClellan's Peninsula campaign,
50,000; Grant's Peninsula campaign, 140,000; and Sher-
man's campaign, 80,000.

" Official statistics show that of the 2,653,000 men en-
listed, there were killed in battle 44,238 ; died of wounds,
49,205; died of disease, 186,216 ; died of unknown causes,
24,184 ; total, 303,843. This includes only tho.se whose
death while in the army had been actually proved. To this
number should be added, fir.st, 26,000 men who are known
to have died while in the hands of the enemy as prisoners of
war, and many others in the same manner whose deaths are
unrecorded; second, a fair percentage of the 205,794 men
who are put down on the official reports as desei'ters and
missing in action, for those who participated in the war
know that men frequently disappear who, it was certain,
had not deserted, yet could not be otherwise officially
accounted for ; third, thousands who are buried in private
cemeteries all over the North who died while at home on
furlough.

" The dead are buried in seventy-three National ceme-
teries, of which only twelve are in the Northern States.
Amongst the principal ones in the North are Cypress Hill,
with its 3,786 dead ; Finn's Point, N..J., which contains the
remains of 2,644 unknown dead; Gettysburg, Pa., with its
1,967 known and l,6(i8 unknown dead; Mound City, 111.,
with 2,505 known and 2,721 unknown graves ; Philadelphia,
with 1,909 dead; and Woodlawn, Elmira, N.Y., with its
3,900 dead.

" In the South, near the scenes of terrible conflicts, are
located the largest depositories of the slain : — Arlington,
Va., 16,264, of which 4,319 are unknown; Beaufort, S.C.,
9,241, of which 4,493 are unknown; Chalmettee, La,
12,511, of which 5,674 are unknown; Chattanooga, Tenn.,
12,962, of which 4,963 are unknown ; Fredericksburg, Va.,
15,257, of which 12,770 are unknown ; Jefferson Barracks,
Mo., 11,490, of which 2,900 are unknown; Little Rock,
Ark., 5,602, of which 2,337 are unknown ; City Point, Va.,
5,122, of which 1,374 are unknown ; Marietta, Ga., 10,151,
of which 2,963 are unknown; Memphis, Tenn., 13,997, of
which 8,817 are unknown; Nashville, Tenn., 16,526, of
which 4,700 are unknown; Poplar Grove, Va., 6,190, of
which 4,001 are unknown; Richmond, V., 6,542, of which
5,700 are unknown; Salisbury, N.C., 12,126, of which
12,032 are unknown; Stone River, Tenn., 5,602, of which
288 are unknown; Vicksburg, Miss., 16,600, of which
12,704 are unknown; Antietam, Va., 4,671, of which 1,818
are unknown ; Winchester, Va., 4,559, of which 2,365 are
unknown.

'■ In all, the remains of 300,000 men who fought for the
stars and stripes find guarded graves in our national ceme-
teries. Two cemeteries are mainly devoted to the men who
perished in the prisons of the same name — Andei-sonville,
Ga., which contains 13,714 graves, and Salisbury, with its
12,126 dead, among which 12,032 are unknown.

" Of the vast number who are interred in oui- national
cemeteries, 275,000 .sleep beneath the soil of the Southern

September 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE

247

States, and 1-1:5,000 of these rest in gi-aves marked un-
known.

" The total Confederate loss will never be known, but the
best estimates place it at about 220,000 men out of 1,000,000
men who served in the Southern armies. They fought
during the war on the defensive, among friends, and
generally under cover of breastworks of one kind or another,
from rifle-pits to regular fortifications, which gave them an
enormous advantage.

" The total number of men furnished to the Federal army
by the United States during the war under all caIIs was
2,683,523. The total number of coloured troops in the
Northern army was 123,156. The heaviest loss bv disease
was suffered by the coloured troops; while but 2,897 died
in action and of wounds, the enormously large ntimber of
26,301 died of disease. Among the white troops the pro-
portion of deaths in action and from wounds to the deaths
from disease was about 1 to 2 ; among the coloured troops
as 1 to 8. Of the coloured troops enlisted, one out of every
seven died of disease. The proportion among the white
troops was 1 to 15.

" Now that we are brushing up these figures it will be
well enough to remember how many men were furnished by
each State, and the following list will show : —

Maine . . . .

71.745

Ohio .

. 317,133

New Hampshire .

,S4,G0.T

Indiana

. 195,147

Vermont

33,256

Illinois

. 258,217

Massachusetts

151,785

Michigan

. 90,119

Rhode Island

24,711

VVisconsin .

. 96,118

Connecticut

52,270

Minnesota .

. 25,024

New York ,

455,508

Iowa .

75,860

New Jersey .

79,511

Missouri

. 108,778

Pennsylvania

366,326

Kontuclsy .

. 78,546

Delaware .

13,631

Kansas

. 20,097

Maryland .
West Virginia

49,730
30,003

Total .

. 2,653,062

District of Columbia .

16,872

" Few of the great battles of history can compare in
magnitude with tbe greatest battles of the Civil War, and
the battles of that war were the bloodiest in all the history
of wars in the proportion of killed to those engaged.
Waterloo was one of the most desperate and bloody fields
chronicled in European history, and yet AVellington's
casualties were less than 12 per cent., his losses being 2,432
kUled and it, 580 wounded out of over 75,000 men, while
at Shiloh one side lost in killed and wounded 9,740
out of 34,000, while their opponents report their killed
and wounded at 9,616, making the casualties about
30 per cent. At the great battle of Wagram, Napoleon lost
but about 5 per cent. At Wiirzburg the French lost but
3| per cent., and yet the army gave up the field and retreated
to the Rhine.

" At Zurich, Massena lost hut 8 per cent. At Mal-
plaquet, Marlborough lost but 10 per cent., and at Eamillies
the same intrepid commander lost but 6 per cent.

" At Contras, Henry of Navarre was reported as cut to
pieces, yet his loss was less than 10 per cent. At Lodi,
Napoleon lost I5 per cent. At Valmy, Frederick William
lost but 3 per cent. ; and at the great battles of Mai-engo
and Austerlitz, sanguinary as they were, Napoleon lost
an average of less than 11^ per cent. At jMagenta and
Solferino, in 1859, the average loss of both armies was less
than 9 per cent. At KiJniggratz, in 1866, it was 6 percent.
At Werth, Spicheren, Mars la Tour, Gravelotte, and Sedan,
in 1870, the average loss was 12 per cent., while at Linden
Gteneral Moreau lost but 4 per cent, and the Archduke John
lost but 7 per cent, in killed and wounded. Americans
would scarcely call this a lively skirmish.

" At Perryville, Murfreesboro, Chickamauga, Atlanta,
Gettysburg, Mission Ridge, the Wildernesses, and Spottsyl-

vania, the loss frequently reached, and sometimes exceeded,
40 per cent., and the average of killed and wounded on one
side or the other was over 30 per cent.

'• Of the gentlemen who were at W^est Point during one
period of a cadetship, fifty-six were killed in battle, and,
estimating the rate of killed and wounded at one to five,
280 were wounded.

" From the discovery of America to 1861 in aU wars with
other nations the record gives the deaths in battle of but
ten American generals, while from 1861 to 1865, both sides
being opposed by Americans, more than 100 general officers
fell while leading their columns. From 1492 to 1861 the
killed and wounded upon American soil in all battles,
combats, and skirmishes, added together, as shown by reports,
hardly exceeded the casualties of single battles of the great
American conflict."

SHAKESPEARE'S SONNETS.

PROMISED some time back (or threatened—
which is it ?) to show from Shakespeare's
sonnets that the special forms of knowledge
traceable in the writer of the plays can be
recognised in poems unquestionably by Shake-
speare. I now propose to carry out this idea.
I take first the tokens of legal knowledge, or
rather the use of legal terms and expressions so correctly
that many lawyers have wondered how the country-bred
Shakespeare could have obtained such command of legal
language. Of course the wonder is not so great as many
imagine. It is quite true that most of our best novelists
blunder when they deal with legal matters, and especially
when they try to use legal phraseology. But that is natural
enough. The novelist is no more likely to have occasion,
in his own experience, to study even the simplest legal ques-
tions, than other folk ; and almost every reader of these
lines who is not himself a lawyer knows how unapt he would
be in the use of legal phraseology. But if any one not a
lawyer has occasion, unfortunately for himself, to have deal-
ings with lawyers, and if he has been careful to master all
such legal statements as those dealings bring before him — •
then he will very soon acquire readiness and precision in the
use of law terms, especially if he is observant and hiis a good
memory. Now Shakespeare, owing to the many troubles in
which his father was involved, had probably occasion to hear
a great deal about legal matters ; we can hardly suppose
that a man of his power (judging only by the poems) would
let these matters pass unnoticed. His keenness of observa-
tion and insight into meanings would enable him very
quickly to learn all those details to which every sen.sible
man who has dealings with the law must attend, and we
have only to consider Shakespeare's amazing facility of
expression to know that none could be quicker than he
would be in seizing the meaning of new terms and phrases,
and turning them into account in his poetry.

The trouble in this matter lies in the selection, so numer-
ous throughout the sonnets are the legal terms and jihrases.
They come in sometimes casually, but not less significantly
from the beginning. Thus, after touching in the first three
sonnets on heirship, succession, posterity, and so forth, in
the fourth sonnet Shakespeare deals with these and .asso-
ciated ideas in terms which might be objected to by an
overwise critic as unduly technical. " Unthrifty loveliness,"
he says, — •

wh}- dost thou spend

Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy t
Nature's hcquctt gives nothing, but doth lend.
And being frank, she lends to those are free ;

248

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse

The bounteous largess given thee to give !
Profitless usurer, why dost thou use

So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live ?
For, having traffic with thyself alone.

Thou of thyself thy sweet self doth deceive.
Then how, when nature calls thee to begone,

What acceptable audit canst thou leave 1
Thy unus'd beauty must be tomb'd with thee.

Which, us'd, lives thy executor to be.

I Here also the words " us'd " and "unus'd" are used in
their legal sense, as relating to the usance of money.]

8o, again, only a little further on (and it is worth
noticing that these earlier sonnets were written when
Shakespeare was a very young man), we find the hope
expressed that " beauty held in lease" may " find no deter-
mination " : —

Then you were
Yourself again, after }-ourself "s decease.
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.

And so, pas.sing on, we find again and again the terms
and phrases of law brought in so naturally and so correctly
that one might be tempted to say that Shakespeare's vocabu-
lary borrowed too much from legal phraseology, did one not
notice that scarcely any other subject can be named from
which he has not in like manner borrowed. But we also
find sonnets in which not casually, but evidently of set
purpose, legal imagery (if one may use such an expression)
is employed throughout. Consider, for instance, the follow-
ing (Sonnet 46), in which a case in equity is fairly tried,
though for poetic convenience the trial is called first a
•' war " : —

Mine eye and heart are at a moital war,

How to divide the conquest of thy sight ;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's right would har.

My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth j>leiid that thou in him dost lie —

(A closet never pierc'd with crystal eyes),
But the defendant doth that^^a deny.

And says — in him the fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impanelled

A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart.
And by their verdict is determined

The clear eye's moieti/ and the dear heart's part :
As thus — mine eye's due is thine outward part.
And my heart's right thine inward love of heart.

Sonnet 87 is still more strikingly legal in tone, and should
be carefully studied by the believers in the Baconian theory
of Shakespeare's plays, as showing them at least that if legal
phraseology, correctly employed, proves Bacon the author
of the plays, it proves Bacon to be the author of the sonnets
also : and in that case the Baconians will have to explain
what Bacon meant by saying in the sonnets (written when
Bacon stood already before the world a model of sober
manhood devoted to most dignified employment) that he
had " made himself a motley to the view." The sonnet
runs —

Farewell ! thou art too dear for my possessing.
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate ;

The charter of thy worth gives thee rehasing ;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.

For how do I hold thee but by thy granting 1
And for that riches where is my deserfing .'

The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting.
And so my patent back again is sn-crring.

Thyself thiu gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking :
So thy great gift, upon misprision growing.
Comes homo again on hettevjudgment-mahiui/.
Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth Hatter,
In sleep a king, but waking, no such matter.

In Sonnet 134 we not only note the use of many legal
phrases, but we also seem to recognise sonje suggestion of

unpleasant recollections of those home difficulties which, as
we know% troubled Shakespeare's father. It runs ; —
So now have I confessed that he is thine,
And I myself am mortgaged to thy will,
Myself V\\ forfeit, so that other mine

Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still ;
But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free.

For thou art covetous and he is kind ;
He learn'd but surety-like, to n-rite for me.

Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.

The statute of thy beauty thou wilt t-eihe.

Thou usurer, that put'st forth all to use.

And sue a friend came debtor for my sake.

So him I lose through my unkind abuse.

Him have I lost : thou hast both him and me ;
He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.

Surely, by the way, no one but Shakespeare could suc-
cessfully have brought into poetry such legal expressions as
" underwriting a bond," " taking benefit of the statute," to
say nothing of such legal terms as " mortgaged," " forfeit,"
and " surety," here, and elsewhere in the sonnets, " de-
barred," "separable," "arrest,"* "bail," "vassalage," and the
like. To Shakespeai-e even law, medicine, and chemistry
had their poetical aspects. He who could find " tongues in
the trees, books in the running brooks, and sermons in
stones," could find also " good in everything."

We may conveniently turn next to those chemical touches
in the plays which (because Lord Bacon dealt with
chemistry) have been regarded as suggesting that Shake-
speare was the great Lord Chancellor's alttr ego. Chemical
terms are as freely used as legal ones in the sonnets. In
sonnets five and six we have a striking example, because a
chemical process not seemingly poetical in itself is made
poetically useful in most ingenious fashion. The poet, after
speaking of beauty's winter, goes on to say : —
Then were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass.
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft.

Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.
But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet,
Then let not winter's ragged band deface

In thee thy summer, ere thou be distilled ;
Mahe sweet .lome phial; treasure thou some place
With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-killed.

Of the astronomy and astrology of his day Shakespeare
evidently had what was considered ample knowledge — the
Shakespeare of the sonnets had certainly the same ideas on
these subjects as the Shakespeare of the plays, though it
may here be frankly admitted that Bacon knew more than
either, especially in regard to technical terms. In Sonnet 14,
Shakespeare says : —

Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck ;

And yet methinks I have astronomy.
But not to tell of good or evil luck.

Of plagues, of dearths, or season's quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,

'Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind.
Or say with princes if it shall go well,
By oft predict that I in heaven find.

It is evident Shakespeare rather doubted the trustworthi-
ness of the Raphaels and Zadkiels of his day. Yet had he
some faith in the influences of the heavenly bodies. For he
writes in Sonnet 15 : —

When I consider everything that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment.

That this hug<j state presenteth naught but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment.

* It has been objected by some one, I forget whom, that only a
man of legal turn of mind would ever have made Hamlet saj* " this
fell sergeant. Death, is strict in his arrest." But in Sonnet 79,
Shakespeare, speaking of his own death, says ; —
When that fell arrest
Without all hail shall carry me away.

September 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

249

In Sonnet 26, he expresses the hope that some good con-
ceit of the person addressed (whoever he may have been),
may bestow the poet's duty in his soul's thought (whatever
that may mean) —

Till whatsoever star that guides my moving,
Points on me graciously with fair aspect.

In the preceding sonnet lie had spoken of " those who
are in favour with theii' stars." Througliout, as tliroughout
the plays, there is a general yet half-doubting acceptance of
astrological ideas, but nowhere any reference to such ideas
as Bacon advanced in what he called a system of rational
astrology.

Among references to painting, I note especially those in
Sonnet 24 :—

Mine eye hath play'd the painter, and hath stell'd
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;

My body is the frame wherein 't is held.
And jiei'spectire it is best painter's art

And through the painter must you see his skill.

(The play on words here is very curious — you are to see
through the painter the painter's skill, because perspective
or through-seeing is the best art of the painter) : —

" To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hinqing still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turn eyes for eyes have done ;
Mine eyes have drawn tliy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee ;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

This artificial style is certainly not Shakespeare's best,
and is found only in the earlier plays. Yet in " King John "
we find a passage which may be compared with Sonnet 24,
where Lewis says of Blanche : —

In her eye I find
A wonder or a wondrous miracle.
The shadow of myself formed in her eye ;
Which being but the shadow of your son,
Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow ;
I do protest I never lov'd myself
Till now infixed I beheld myself
Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.

It is to be noted, however, that Shakespeare means this
to be taken as poor nonsense; for Falconbridge forthwith,
with hearty scorn, laughs it all to the winds. Echoing the
Dauphin's folly, he says : —

Drawn in the flattering table of her eye,

Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow ;

And quarter'd in her heart I he doth espy

Himself love's traitor ; this is pity now.

That hang'd and drawn and quarter'd there should be

In such a love so vile a lout as he.

How prettily, in Sonnet 128, Shakespeare brings music
to his aid in appealing to his mistress for her love : —

How oft, when thou my music play'st.
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds.
Do I envy those J3<^Z:< that nimbly leap
To kiss the tender inward of thine hand,
Whilst my poor lips that should that harvest reap.
At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand 1
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips.
O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more bless'd than living lips.
Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

I have not space to quote or even to mention Shake-
speare's repeated references throughout the sonnets to flower

and field, sowing and reaping, summer and winter, and the
ways and works of those who till the soil. But I would
specially recommend Sonnets 98 and 99 to those who,
having noted how such matters are dealt with in the plays,
and that Bacon, after his colder manner, knew much and
thought much of flowers and gardens, fondly imagine that
Bacon therefore wrote the plays. They run thus : —

From you have I been absent in the spring.

When proud-pied .\pril, dress'd in all his trim,

Hath put a spirit of youth in everything.

That heavy Saturn laugh 'd and leap'd with him.

Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell

Of different flowers in odour and in hue.

Could make me any summer's story tell.

Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew;

Nor did I wonder at the lily's white.

Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose ;

They were but sweet, but figures of delight.

Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away.
As with your shadow I with these did play.

The forward violet thus did I chide :

Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells.

If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride,

Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells,

In raj' love's veins thou hast too grossly dy'd.

The lily I condemned for thy hand.

And buds of marjoram hid stol'n thy hair ;

The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,

One blushing .shame, another white despair ;

A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both.

And to his robbery, had annex'd thy breath ;

But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth,

A vengeful canker eat him up to death.

More flowers I noted, yet I none could see

But sweet or colour it had stol'n from thee.

If the same poet wrote not these lines who conceived the
exquisite poetry of Perdita's thoughts on flowers in " The
Winter's Tale " (act iv. sc. .3), then can no poet — Homer or
Virgil, Dante or Miltoit, Chaucer or Spenser, Goethe,
Schiller, Corneille, or Hugo — be known by his .style or
power.

And now to show surely that Shakespeare wrote the
sonnets, or that at least Francis Bacon did not (and no
William Bacon has yet been suggested as the real
Shake.speare), let the last lines of Sonnet 136 be quoted
here at the last. It might be taken even as an appeal to
the doubting Baconian : —

Though in thy stores' account I one must be,
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
That nothing me, a something sweet to thee ;
Make hut mg name thy litre, and lore that stiU,
And tlwn tlion lorst me, far nig name is Will.

The Mullein Test in Consu.mption, — The success attending
the treatment of consumption with mullein leaves by Dr. Quinlan,
of Dublin, and which has been so widely published, has led him to
make a formulated statement, showing briefly that in the earlier
and pretubercular stage of pulmonary consumption, mullein has a
weight-increasing and curative power greater than that of corl liver
oil and equal to that of Russian koumiss ; in cases where tubercles
are well established or cavities exist, the mullein has great power in
relieving cough ; phthisical diarrhcea is completely obviated by the
mullein ; but it has no power or effect on the night-sweats of con-
sumption, which are to be combated by atropia sulphate. Three
ounces of the fresh green leaves, or about ten times as much of the
dried, are boiled in a pint of fresh cow's milk, and after boiling a
moment, the infusion is allowed to stand and " sipe " for ten
minutes, when it is strained, sweetened and drunk while warm ;
this quantity is taken twice or three times a day. It is generally
much relished by the patients, who regard it as a pleasant article of
diet rather than as a medicine. The smoke of these leaves, inhaled
into the respiratory passages, relieves irritation and spasmodic
cough.

250

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

MAP YII.

lyRichfA.Proctor.

The hnear scale rojiinRy is loiiftmn
Ihrauahotit ; the thwart scale is
greater by ^-is haJfwxiytjy&^e^e,
and hyH*^ at the ed^e

0 s: <CK) too 4C0 eoo mo iooo

MAP 12

Small areas ar^ greater by hs half
way to the ed^e ; and iy ^ ■ at^

the ed^e

Edyr^Wdlcr. del

September 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

251

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP XI.— Fos AUGUST, SEPTEMBER, and OCTOBER.

The Night Skies in the Southern Hemisphere (Lat. 46' to 24° S.)

AND THE

Southern Skies in England (Upper Half of Map only) at the following Times:

At 1 o'clock, morning, Sept. 6.
„ 12.30 „ „ fept. 14.

„ Midnight, Sept. 21.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, Sept. 29.

At 11 o'clock, night, Oct. 7.
„ 10.30 „ ,. Oct. 15.

„ 10 „ „ Oct. 22.

„ 9.30 „ ., Oct. 30.

At 9 o'clock, night, Nov. 7.

„ 8.30 „ „ Nov. 14.

„ 8 „ „ Nov. 22.

,! 7.30 „ „ Nov. 30.

First

Second

Stab Magnitudes.
Third ....*■

Fourth

Fifth

252

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

A "PERFECT INNINGS" AT CRICKET:
A CHANCE PROBLEM.

URING the cricket season of 188G there
occurred what has been called a " perfect
innings," * every player on the side scoring
double figures, while the extras supplied a
twelfth double-figure entry. Not one of
the players reached the century, so that
when the score of the innings was printed,
the numbers opposite the names of the players made a neat
double figure column. This has not happened half a dozsn
times since cricket has been a game. Moreover, the score
as actually formed was unique : for every item was above
15 (only one was below 211), and that has never happened
before.

In the Times there appeared, a few days after this remark-
able game between the Australians and an English eleven,
a letter in which the exceptional nature of the innings was
commented on, and a comparison was drawn between the
occurrence of such an innings at cricket and the occurrence
of what is called a Yai'borough hand (or simply a " Yar-
borough") at whist. It happened that in the pages of
Knowledge, about half a year before, both these unusual
events had been considered, though no comparison had been
instituted between them : and the writer of the letter in the
Times touched on the circumstance that the kind of innings
which had been described in Knowledge as altogether un-
usual should have presented itself within so short a time.
He expressed also the opinion that it must be more unusual
than a Yarborough, a point about which there can be no
manner of doubt.

At first there seems to be no resemblance between the
chance of a "perfect innings" at cricket and that of a
Y^arborough hand at whist ; but, in reality, they both
belong to the Sime class of questions in probabilities.

A Yarborough hand at whist is one in which there ia no
card above a nine — in whist estimation, according to which
the ace is very much above the nine. The hand is Killed a
Y'^arborough, because early in the century Lord Y^arborough,
a sporting peer, was in the habit of offering odds of a
thousand to one (generally in guineas) that the deal would
not give the person with whom he wagered a hand of this
objectionable kind. Observe, we say, " the person with
W'hom he wagered." Often the wager is wrongly described,
as if Lord Yarborough betted against the deal giving a
Y^arboi-ough to any of the four players. Had this been the
wager. Lord Y'arborough would have lost money over his
venture ; as it was, the story runs that he gained consider-

* The innings in question is worth quoting. It was played by
an Eleven of England at Scarborough, September i, 1886, and is
not only remarkable as a " perfect innings," but also as the highest
innings ever played against an Australian eleven. It was as
follows : —

England.

W.G. Grace cJarvis b Giffen 92

Scotton c Palmer b Truuib'.e 71

Bates c Bruce b Spofforth 6.S

Barnes c and b Garrett 4.5

Barlow b Palmer 16

Ulvett b Palmer 48

C. I. Thornton st Jarvis b Palmer 22

Flowers 0 M'llwraith b Garrett 82

Briggs c Jarvis b Garrett 21

E. F. S. Tylecote c Palmer b Giffen SI

W. E. W. Collins not out S6

E.'ctras 21

Total 558

The play of the Australians in the unfinished match was as
follows : —

Australians.

G. E. Palmer c Briggs b Barnes 22

S. P. Jones c Tylecote b Barlow . . 24

G. Giffen c Thornton b Barnes 18

G. J. Bonnor retired hurt -IG

J. W. Trumble b Flowers 24

A. H. Jarvis b Briggs 18

W. Bruce c Briggs b Barnes 23

T. W. Garrett c Ulyett b Briggs . . 1

J. M'llwraith b Barnes 4

H. J. H. Scott not out 8

F. R. Spofforth b Briggs 81

Extras 12

Total 231

Second Ix.xixos.— G. E Palmer st Tylecote b Briggs, "5 ; S. P. Jones not out,
108 ; G. Giffen not oat, 7 ; extras, 2 ; total, 192.

ably, and it is certain that if he only laid the odds often
enough he must have gained.

Now at first nothing can seem more absurd than a com-
parison between an innings at cricket and a deal at whist.
But if we con.sider the two chances compared above, we
shall find that they are much more nearly akin than would
at first seem possible. In fact they only differ in kind in
this, that the chance of a cricketer making double figures in
a given match depends on our estimate of his skill and of
the skill of the side against which he contends at the
wickets, while the chance of any card dealt to a given
player being below a nine is definite. Apart from this, the
resemblance between the two chances in their nature is
rather i-emarkable.

Let lis consider them separately, avoiding all that is com-
plex or otherwise unsuited to these pages. After all, this
need not make our study of the sulyect incomplete ; for all
who know enough of the science of probabilities to follow
complex or technical statements can supply from their own
knowledge what we here omit, while to those who cannot
all such statements would be unintelligible.

Suppose we are watching a deal at whist, all the hands
being dealt in the usual way, except the hand of the
person with whom the wager has been made that he will
not get a Y^arborough. His hand, let us suppose, is dealt
fiice upwards, as in single-dummy whi.st. Of the thirteen
cards in each suit eight fulfil the conditions of the wager,
so that there are 32 cards in the pack any one of which will
do for the first card dealt to this up-turned hand. The
chance, then, that at the first round the bettor will not get
an ace, king, queen, knave, or ten is clearly 32 in 52,
which we represent as a fraction. Supposing the firet round
favourable, there remain 31 cards any one of which will
suit, out of 51 unknown cards. The (act that three other
cards have been already dealt, face down, in no sense affects
the chance of success at this second round : all we have to
consider is that a card has to be dealt which may be any one
of the 51 unknown or undisclosed cards. For this round,
then, the chance of success is 31 in 51, which again we
represent as a fraction. The chance for the third round is
30 in 5(1 ; for the fourth, 29 in 49 ; and so on till we come
to the thirteenth round, for which — always supposing that
all the preceding rounds have been fjivourable for the player's
wager — the chance will be 20 in 41), or exactly one-half.

Now, it is a well-known rule in probabilities that to find
the chance of a series of events coming off in the way above
imagined, we must multiply together the chances of the
several events of the series. Thus, the chance of head being
tossed at a single trial being one-half, the chance of tossing
head twice in two trials is half of half, or a fourth ; the
chance of tossing heads thrice in three trials is half a fourth,
or an eighth ; and so on as far as we please, till (for example)
we find the chance of tossing head twenty times in twenty
trials to be less than one-millionth. Applying this rule to
the Yarborough wager, we find the chance of a Y'arborough
hand represented by a fraction whose numerator is obtained
by multiplying together the thirteen numbers from 20 to 32,
both inclusive, while its denominator is obtained by multi-
plying together the thirteen numbers from 40 to 52, both
inclusive. If the reader cares to carry out this multiplica-
tion (fir.st, however, striking out all that is common to both
series), and then to divide the large denominator he will get
by the smaller (though still considerable) numerator, he will
get the fraction 1 divided by 1,828 and something over.

It follows that at any given deal a player at whist has
rather less than one chance in 1,828 of that kind of hand in
which every lover of whist delights so greatly — a hand in
which there is no card above a nine. The odds against this
pleasing result are therefore rather more than 1,827 to 1 ;

September 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

253

and in offering only 1,000 to 1 Lord Yarborough was acting
(unintentionally no doubt) like those judicious but dishonest
bookmakers who offer the young verdants of the turf 10 to 1
against a horse, when the true odds are nearer 20 to 1 —
or otherwise shorten the true odds against the horses in a
race, making themselves safe on every race, though one or
two of their victims win largely for the nonce, and so more
surely become their prey, and induce others to fall into the
same net. If we imagine 18,280 wagers on the Yarborough
plan, about ten would result in loss to the peer ; and the
winners, as they pocketed severally their thousand pounds,
would be apt to think " What a fool his lordship must be 1 "
while bystanders witnessing the transaction would pity his
folly, and repeat to themselves the good old proverb which
indicates the swift separation of the unwise and his property.
But the loss of ten thousand pounds or so (for, of course,
there might be two or three more Yarborough?, or two or
three less, than the exact average) would be more than
compensated, so far as the hereditary legislator was con-
cerned, by the sum of 18,270Z. which he would h.ave
pocketed during the proceedings. He would probably have
secured a profit of 8,270/. ; he would be practically certain
to have secured a profit of at least 4,270/., and his risk of
not securing the full average profit of 8,270/. would be
balanced by his chance of securing three or four thousands
more than that amount.

Such are the conditions and chances in the matter of the
notorious Yarborough wagers, which in these days of puritj'
are no longer possible — our tempters of fortune having
found more speedy ways of ruining themselves in " cover "
speculation and the like.

Xow consider the conditions and chances in regard to a
" perfect innings " at cricket.

Here we no longer have definite chances to deal with.
Yet, if we consider a given cricketer playing against a given
eleven, it mu.st be admitted by all who know anything of
cricket, even with all the glorious chances of the game,
that a fair estimate ain be formed of the chance that he will
get into double figures. In the first place, his batting average
for previous seasons is known. How far during the actual
.season he is playing up to his usual standard is also known.
The strength of the bowlers and fielders playing against him
can in like manner be estimated, and the state of the ground
and of the weather are also given conditions of the problem.
A good cricketer in such circumstances would not hesitate
long in forming an opinion as to the chance that such and
such a player going in under such and such conditions to
meet such and such an eleven would reach double figures.
For instance, if Mr. Grace, or Mr. A. G. Steel, or either of
the Reads— amateur or professional — were going to the
wicket early in a game against a first-cla.ss county eleven,
we know that any cricketer would regard the chance of the
player making double figures, the ground being in good
condition and the weather favom-able, as considerably
more than one-half, more even than two-thirds or three-
quarters. On the other hand, when a player remarkable
rather as a bowler or a wicket-keeper than as a bat goes in,
late in the game, against the same eleven, we know that the
chance of his making double figures is much le.ss than one-
half, and may even be less than one-tenth or one-twentieth.
Of course, the event in either case may upset all such
anticipations. A Grace may be out at the first ball, and a
Shaw or a Sherwin, the pride of his eleven because of mar-
vellous skill with the ball or over the bails, may go in last
and pile up thirty or forty runs, to the disgust of the
opposing eleven, which had regarded the innings of their
opponents as already over. But the estimated chance was
none the less correct.

Now it so chances that just as there are thirteen chances

to be considered in the case of a Yarborough hand at whist
one chance for each card, so are there thirteen chances to be
considered in the case of a perfect innings of cricket, viz.,
one for each player of the eleven, one for the extras, and
one for the " not out" man. This last chance must clearly
be considered as distinct from the several chances of the
eleven. One man must carry out his bat : we cannot tell
who may be the man, but whoever it may be, he clearly will
have had two chances to contend against ; first, the chance
against his making his double figure before yielding to the
enemy's attack, and secondly, the chance that the last of the
wickets will fall, though he maintain his own defence,
before he has attained double figures. We may fairly
regard this extra chance as equal to the average chance of a
member of the eleven getting into double figures, since the
" not out " man may be any one of the eleven.

In the case of any given innings then, to be played by
eleven men of known skill against an eleven whose bowling
and fielding abilities are also known, we have in effect, as in
the Yarborough problem, a series of thirteen known chances
to consider, each one of which must turn out favourably
that the innings may be a " perfect " one. We set down
our estimate of the chance in the case of each man that he
will pass the nine and so enter among the double-figure men.
We take the average of these eleven fractions as the chance
that the " not out " will have made his double figui'es before
the tenth wicket has fallen. And lastly we get a thirteenth
fraction to represent the chance that the extras will run into
double figures by considering what are the chances in regard
to the innings to be made by the eleven as a whole, and
what proportion the extras are likely to bear to the total
innings. Thus, as in the Yarborough problem, we have
thirteen fractions representing the series of chances, all of
which must turn out favourabh-, if the innings is to be
" perfect," and, mnltii)lying them all together, we obtain the
chance of that event.

Of course for each match played the calculation of the
chance of a pgrfect innings would be different. If players
of the strongest defensive force form the eleven, even
the bowlers being great batsmen, like Steel (A. G.),
Studd (C. T.), Ulyett, Emmett, and the champion himself,
the chances of a perfect innings are much less than where
an eleven, as usual, divides its strength more definitely
between batting and bowling, and includes a man or two
selected for skill rather in saving than in making runs,
or for such quickness as makes a good wicket-keeper so
destructive, or a keen point or short-slij) so effective both
in saving runs and catching out players. Then the qualities
of the opposing eleven have to be considered. They may be
such that even an eleven of the most effective batsmen may
be compelled to play a defensive game, insomuch that though
that game may prove a winning one, it is not likely to run
into high figures.

All one can do in each c;ise is to consider, according to the
be.st evidence available, what chance this player has or that
of making not fewer than ten runs against the opposing
eleven, and then combining the chances by multiplying, as
already explained. Thus one might put down the chance
of the first players, A and B, as one in two, and of the
remaining nine players in order as one in three, three, four,
four, five, five, six, ten, ten»; the chance for the not out,
whoever he may turn out to be, might be put at one in
twenty, and the chance of a double figure for extras at one
in two. Then the chance of a perfect innings would be
represented by one in the product of the thirteen numbers
— two, two, two, three, three, four, four, five, five, six, ten,
ten, and twentv. This product will be the product of the
numbers 20, 20, 20, 20, 20, and 108, or 345,600,000, so
that the odds would be 345,599,999 to 1 against a perfect

254

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

innings. But, on the other hand, the eleven might be so
strong, and oiaposed to such moderate bowling strength, that
the chances for the 1 1 players, the not-out chance, and the
chance for extras, might be represented by 5 in G, i in 5,
■2 in 3, 2 in 3, 5 in 8, 3 in 5, 3 in 5, 1 in 2, 1 in 2, 1 in 3,
and 1 in 4, for the eleven players ; 3 in 8 for the " not out ";
and 4 in 5 for the extras. Then the chance of a perfect
innings would be represented by a fi-action whose numerator
would be the product of the numbers 5, 4, 2, 2, 5, 3, 3, 1,
1, 1, 1, 3, and 4, while its denominator would be the product
of the numbers 6, 5, 3, 3, 8, 5, 5, 2, 2, 3, 4, 8, and 5— which
is evidently 1 in 2,400 (all the first set of numbers cancelling
against numbers or parts of numbers iu the second set).

It must be quite common for the chance of a perfect
innings to be less than one in a million, so that in a match
of four innings it would quite commonly happen that the
chance of a perfect innings would be less than one in a
quarter of a million * Often the chance of a peifect
innings in a match is less than one in several millions.
Very seldom, indeed, can the chance of a perfect innings be
so large as one in 4,000 for an innings, or one in 1,000 for
the match. It always seemed to me about as likely as this
that during some of the matches played against the Aus-
tralians a perfect innings would come off, because the
Australian eleven has had bowlers and a wicket-keeper who
might be safely trusted to make a good average also with
the bat, and when England had to select elevens to meet
them, it was de.sirable (especially during their first three
visits) to select bowlers of the same quality. At the wicket,
Mr. Tylecote among amatem-s and Pilling among pro-
fessionals could always be expected to make a good score
with the bat, and, although Sherwin is in that respect not
their equal, yet it has more than once happened that he has
got into double figures even against the powerful attack of
the Australian eleven in 1884 and preceding years. As for
bowlers, though it is customary to say that the Australians
are ahead of us in the combination of bowling and batting
strength, I cannot think that any five among all the
Australian teams would in this respect surpass Messrs.
AV. G. Grace, A. G. Steel, C. T. Studd from among our
amateurs, and Ulyett and Emmett from among professionals,
while to these five ten more might be added, of scarcely
inferior quality,' from the elevens of Nottingham, Yorkshire,
Lancashire, Surrey, Gloucester, Kent, and Sussex. With
elevens made up so as to have no " tail," the chance of a
perfect innings is greatly increased. Yet I shoiald imagine
that no two elevens have ever met whose chance of giving,
in the match, one perfect innings has been equal to much
more than one in a thousand. Such encounters, also, ai-e so
few and far between that the small chance in any given
match is not made up by the number of trials. Taking all
the cricket matches placed year after year, and a fair com-
putation of the average chance of a perfect innings in a
match at not more than 1 in 100,000, we cannot wonder if
season after season passes without a perfect innings being
recorded. For, counting thii-ty weeks in the cricket season,
and suppo.sing twenty matches going on daily of the kind
which we are considering, each lasting three days, we only
get 1,200 encounters in the year, so that there might be
expected one perfect innings Ln rather more than eighty- three
years !

So far as I can learn there have not been more than two

or three perfect innings before that of last year, and there
has never before been a case in which every item of the
score exceeded fifteen.

* Although four innings are not played in every match, we may
fairly set against the chance of four full innings not being required
the chance that when this happens one innings on the winning side
will be exceptionally large. JIanifestly (for example) if one side is
beaten in a single innings,'there is more likelihood of that innings
being a perfect one than it four innings, all perhaps of nearly equal
value, were played out.

CURVES IN BASE-BALL PLAY.*

1 1 K great curves, as recently photographed,
are shown in fig. 1. In explaining these
curves, E. J. Pringle says that the picture
represents two kinds, an iir-curve and an
out-curve, and there are two methods for
using e.ich of them. One is to start the
ball in a direct line for the home base and
the curve will cany it to the left of the base. Another is
to start the ball in a direct line for the batsman and let the
ball curve over the p'ate. The latter curve, however, is

Fig. 1, — iN-cuRVES and Out-cubves Passing the Home
Base (as Photogbaphed).

not safe unless the pitcher has a good command of the ball.
The in-curve is much the best, provided the pitcher is
expert enough to use it.

The incurve and out-curve are probably the easiest of
the pitcher's curves, while the drop and the rise ball are the
hardest. The diffeient curves now in use were discovered
by different persons, but all pitchers are now perfect in
them.

Arthur Cummings was undoubtedly the first to discover
the out-curve when he pitched for the Stais of Brooklyn
back in 18G9. It was then that he suddenly found that he
could strike out batsmen when he pleased, and he al-o
noticed the ball curve, but why, he did not know himself
He practised hard, and finally found that it was done by
a certain curve of the wrist and the way the b.ill was held.

To throw the outcurve : The ball should be grasped
firmly with the first two fingers of the right hand with the
thumb on the opposite side and the other two fingers close
in the palm of the hand. Use the underhand throw, and
carry the hand forward midwa)' between the shoulder and
waist. When the ball is released the palm of the hand
must be turned exactly upward, the fii st two fingers pointing
as near straight as ])OSsible.

When the ball is thrown (fig. 2) it can be released either by
drawing the thumb back or by turning it over to the right
and allowing the b;ill to roll around the side of the fore-
finger, and not off the tip. A neat way of getting a grip on

Fig. l'. — Throwing the Out-cubve.

the ball is to catch the middle finger on the seam of the
ball. By so doing one can cause the ball to rotate more

* From the A'em York San.

September 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE

255

rapidly. These same movements are performed by a left-
handed pitcher for an in-curve.

To throw a low in-curve the ball is held firmly with all
the fingera and the thumb on the opposite side. A straight
side motion is used, which brings the hand well out from
the body and on a level with the shoulder. In this curve,
when the ball is released, the palm of the hand is turned
exactly towards the left, with the fingers sufficiently closed

Fig. 3.— Throwing a Low I.\-curve.

around the ball to give it the required rapidity of rotary
motion. The ball is released while the hand is in this posi-
tion (fig. 3). This ciu-ve can be greatly improved by catching
hold of the seam of the ball with the ends of the first three
fingers before throwing it. This curve is, perhaps, the
easiest one to accjuire. Very often a beginner am throw a
good in-curve the firet time he tries.

In a high incurve the hand passes above the head with
an overhand motion.

The " Only " Nolan wps proliably the first pitcher to use
the down-curve, and he met with remarkable success. In
throwing a down-curve the ball is held in the same manner
as for the in-curve. An underhand throw is generally used
for this curve. When the ball is released, the hand is held

Fig. 4.— Throwing a Drop-curve.

pointing directly towards the home base, with the palm
turned upward, allowing the ball to roll off the tips of the
fingei-s (fig. 4). This curve is to-day one of the most deceptive
in use on account of the inclination of the ball to drop any-
where but at the right place.

Radbourne is one of the successful men with the up-curve.
The up-curve was introduced by McC'ormick of the Pitts-
burgs some years ago. This is the most difficult curve to
pitch, and but few ever become perfect in it. Every one
knows that the ball is likely to curve downward, and in
order to overcome this downward tendency great swiftness
must be used to get sufficient resistance from the atmosphere.
In pitching an up-curve the ball is held in the same manner
as for an out-curve. The hand is thrown forward and
downward with a quick jerk. As the hand goes downward

Fig. 5. —Throwing the Upcurve.

it should pass the knee and go at least a foot to the
front of it before the ball is released. Just as the ball is
thrown the little finger edge of the hand will be turned
upward, and the palm wiU be in such a position that the
pitcher can look into it (fig. 5). The first two fingers will be
nearly horizontal and pointing directly away from the pitcher.
The ball is released from this position by allowing it to roll
under the first finger, and assisting the progress by a twist

of the thumb. The ball should roll off the side of the
finger, and not ofl' the tip.

These are by no me;ins the only curves used by the
pitchers nowadays. There are the out-rise, in-rise, out-
drop, and in-drop, all in the nature of two curves. Then
there are several ditlerent " shoots " used ; they are in the
nature of a quick curve.

Avery, the famous Yale pitcher, probably never curved
the ball, yet he discovered the in-shoot. It is now no
unusual thing to find a pitcher with all these points, and
many more wrinkles that they keep working up. Change
of pace was most beautifully illustrated by Al. Spalding in
the old Boston champions. Tim Keefe of the New Yorks
is now the most successful in that line, while Clarkson of
the C'hicagos is also working the change of pace to good
advantage. AVill White and John Ward were about the
first to work the sharp curve and in-shoot as far back as
18TS. One of the gresitest pitchers that ever twirled a ball
was Charlie Sweeney, who was with the Providence Club in
1883-84. He was the first and perhaps the only man who
could curve an out-ball to a left-hand batsman. Several of
the pitchers can get a shoot, but his was a clean curve.

Even with all these, curve-pitchers are not satisfied, nor
will they be until they can pitch a ball that will stop in the
air just before reaching the home-plate, and wait until the
batsman has made a strike, and then pass on to the catcher.
In curving the ball in the wind, E. J. Prindle says : —
" Thro.ving an out-curve from north to south curves the
ball to the east. Now, if the wind is blowing from the east
it will retard the curve, and it may, if very strong, entirely
prevent it. In pitching from north to south, an east wind
will a.ssist an in-curve, a west wind will assist an out-curve,
a south wind will assist any curve, and a north wind will
retard any curve."

THE SUN'S INTERIOR.

T is strange, but nevertheless true, that the
study of our earth's crust has taught science
something about the interior of the sun, or
rather about what lies below the visible sur-
face of the sun, which we call the photosphere.
The evidence is not at present precise, but it
is not difficult to see that along the line of
evidence thus afforded a much greater approach to exactness
can be made than has hitherto been obtained.

When the geologist examines the earth's crust, he finds
evidence of the fiist progress of changes such as are now in
action, during millions, nay tens of millions of years. Thus,
among the rock strata of the earth are to be found traces of
the action of rain and water, wind and storm, alternate
heat and cold. Among the fossilised remains found in these
rocks are some which indicate the presence of forms of life
which could only have existed where there were light and
heat. Among all the strata, evidence is to be found of the
action of changes such as are produced by solar action alone.
Thus in the rocks of the earth we have evidence of past solar
activity, and the means of determining how much work was
done by the sun.

It mattei-s nothing, so far as this inquiry is concerned,
whether we consider the sun to have been more active or
less active in the past than he is now, for it is the total
amount of work he has done upon the earth which we have
to consider, not the rate at which it was done.

Dr. Croll, of Cilasgow, one of the most careful of our
geological inqiiirers, finds evidence in the rock strata of
Scotland showing that the amount of work done by the sun
on the earth corresponds to at least 100,000,000 of years of

256

KNOW^LEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

sun-work, at the sun's present rate of emission of heat. The
late Sir e'harles Lyell, wlio carefully examined CroU's in-
vestigations, was satisfied that this estimate probably fell
short of the truth rather than exceeded it.

But if there is one result which comes out clearly from
modern physical inquiries, it is that the sun's emission of
light and heat are due almost wholly to his gravitating
power, to the miglit by which he has been drawn and is
drawing in towards his centre the material now forming his
globe. Some little extra energy may arise from the drawing
in of matter external to his globe ; but it can be but very
little compared with that due to the mass already within
the solar globe as we see it, and the contraction which this
mass has still to undergo. Now, the force of contraction,
if it is supposed to have acted to draw in matter originally
at exceedingly great distances, until the whole mass has
been brought within the compass of the sun's present globe,
throughout which it is uniformly or nearly uniformly
strewn, could not have corresponded to more than about
20,000,000 years' emission of heat and light at the sun's
present rate of working. This would only correspond to
about one-fifth part of the amount of work which— judging
from the earth's crust— the sun has actually done.

How are we to explain the apparent discrepancy between
the evidence given by the earth and that given by the sun 1
Very easily, according to Dr. C'roll, though for my own part
I find his explanation very difficult to accept. He thinks
that a part, and a very large part, of the sun's heat may have
been derived from the motion of masses originally non-
luminous, rushing with enormous velocities through space.
He says, quite truly, that if we are asked whence they
derived those velocities, we are in reality no more called
upon to reply than we should be if we were asked whence
they derived their substance. But he seems to me to over-
look the enormous improbability of collisions occurring
between masses thus travelUng about through inter-stellar
space. To conceive that the stars we see, either with the
unaided eye or the telescope, were originally formed by
the conflict of bodies originally rushing darkling through
space, is to conceive something as unlikely as that the bullets
fired by two widely-scattered bodies of opposing skirmishers
.should" be constantly encountering in mid-air — or rather,
it is to suppose what would be far more unlikely.

Moreover, whatever heat might be generated by such
collisions, were they possible in the requii-ed number, would
be dissipated quickly, and long before any attendant orb
like the earth could possibly have begun to be the abode of
life.

It seems to me, then, that we are driven to a very
different explanation— this, namely, that the process of
contraction has gone on much farther than it seems to have
done, and that consequently much more of the sun's work
has already been accomplished than had been supposed.
According to this view, the sun's real globe is very much
smaller than the globe we see.

The knowledge thus obtained about the sun's interior has
been derived from the crust of the earth.

But .so soon as we have thus been led to recognise the
remoteness of what we call the sun's surface (that is, the
solar surface we see) from the real sui-foce, other evidence
towards the same view begins to prasent itself. Thus the
marvellous motion of the solar spots, by which it has been
shown that the equatorial zone of the sun gains one entire
revolution in eight on the zone of spots farthest removed
from the equator, would be impossible were the surface we
see anywhere near the real suiface. We are absolutely com-
pelled by this amazing freedom of motion in the solar photo-
sphere to admit that in aU probability the real globe of the
sun is very much smaller than the globe we seem to see.

limited by the surface which happens to have that degree of
brightness which prevents us alike from seeing below except
where spots exist, or from seeing outer layers, except during
the time of solar eclipse.

There is another proof of the condition of the sun's
interior, which is more recondite and difficult. Professor
G. H. Darwin (a son of the late Charles Darwin) has shown,
by mathematical computations of the most convincing kind,
that if the sun's visible globe were of anything like uniform
density throughout there would be recognisable compression
at the solar poles. Now, all the most careful observations
of the sun agree in showing that if such compression exists
at all, it is so slight as not to be discernible with the best
telescopes yet made. It follows that the sun's globe must
be greatly condensed towards the centre.

It is interesting to note that if the view to which we
have been led is correct — and it is difficult to see how it can
be otherwise — the sun has passed through a greater portion
of his career as a light emitting, heat-radiating, and conse-
quently life-supporting orb, than has been supposed. In
point of fact, the difference is so great as proliably to reduce
by more than three-fourths the estimate science makes of
the length of time during which the sun will continue to
supply adequately the heat and life necessary for our earth
and the other worlds circling around him. Albeit, there is
no reason to suppose that for many millions of years yet to
come the supply will run short. Moreover, man is ex-
hausting the life supplies of the earth herself at such a rate
that what we now regard as civilised life upon the earth
must die out millions of years before the solar emission of
light and heat will probably be appreciably reduced.

This point, the wild waste of the earth's life stores, which,
millions of years in accumulating, will be exhausted in a
few thousand j'ears at the outside, if the present ever-
growing rate of consumption continue, will be considered
next month.

«@ 0 £( 0 t p.

Most men, in looking back over their lives, recognise
events which have seemed exceptionally lucky and others
which have appeared the reverse. The whole bearing of
my little treatise, " Chance and Luck," shows that I am no
believer in luck which may be counted on ; or, therefore, in
luck worth considering at all. But there have been times
when I have been speciallv fortunate. For example, that
just when I had been scolded for holding persistently the
solar theory of the corona, photography should come in and
confirm all I had maintained, was singularly fortunate : for
everyone understood t/iat argument. So, when I had main-
tained the theory that nebulre are parts of our galaxy, I
could not hope that a new star would be seen to die out
into a gaseous nebula (in Cygnus), that another new star
would appear in the famous star-cloud in Andromeda, and
that a new nebula would be detected by photography in the
midst of the Pleiades, and clinging so manifestly to one of
the stars there as to leave no doubt that the nebula really
lies in the midst of the cluster. Yet, again, I was very
lucky in that just when the Astronomer-Eoyal, admitting
the exactness of all my calculations in regard to the recent
transits of Venus, explained lustOy that the stations I sug-
gested could not be occupied, and, therefore, would not,
American and other astronomers proclaimed that those
stations could be occupied, and should be, and proved their
case and mine by occupying them forthwith, and making
excellent observations.

* * *

September 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

257

Such pieces of luck are not commoa even in a lifetime.
Yet I consider myself even more exceptionally lucky in
that my business took me to America in 1873-7i, when the
Tichborne trial was in progress, filling three-fourths of the
space in our English newspapers, occupying nine tenths of
men's talk and attention.

* * *

I HAVE been luckier yet in that throughout all this
Jubilee business I have been where the distant hum of it
all scarce even reached men's ears.

* * *

In these days no man can be an Admirable Crichton —
assuming the actual Crichton was really so well informed
in all the science of his day as men said. But if any man
has a chance of taking even a bird's-eye view of the science
of our time, or of its history during, say, the past half-
century, it can only be a man who is thoroughly grounded
in mathematics. The effect of trusting even the sketching
of general science to men who are not mathematicians,
however eminent they may be in special departments of
research, must ever be disastrous. Of this truth the last
few months have afforded more than one " awful example."

It should be obvious, of course, that no man can appre-
ciate the work done in our time in physics, astronomy,
mechanics, and kindred departments of science, without
being well versed in the general principles of mathematics.
But, as Galton well pointed out when, in dealing with a
subject seemingly biological, he found mathematical formula3
essential to successful inquiry, mathematics is " queen of the
whole domain of science."

* * *

Apart from the direct application of mathematics in
nearly every department of science, the mathematical turn
of mind is of important service even where no mathematics
may be employed or required. To recogni.se the truth of
this, one need only notice the failures which men not
mathematically trained to close reasoning, nor by nature
gifted with mathematical potentiality, almost invariably
make in scientific researches of any difficulty. I know of no
example of a continuous series of investigations, logically
pursued to final success, by any man not mathematically
minded. Darwin, Tyndall, and Spencer, who have done no
independent mathematical work, have been pre-eminently
mathematical in their manner of working and thinking.
And some even who have objected to the too purely
mathematical treatment of theii- special subjects have
shown clearly that, had they not been great in such special
work, they might have been eminent in mathematics.

* * *

I HAVE been asked by a correspondent in America what
are " the curious phenomena of the instantaneous reversal
of comets' tails on passing their perihelion," refeiTcd to in a
recent article on the progress of science. I really am
unable to say. A comet's tail is directed along the major
axis of the orbit when the comet is in perihelion, and does
not point in the reversed direction unless when the comet is
in aphelion, when, however, a comet usually has no tail. I
have never heard of the instantaneous reversal of a comet's
tail either at or near perihelion. The only cases of quick
reversal occur where a comet's perihelion is very near the
sun, when it has happened (in perhaps half a dozen cases
out of hundreds) that, in the course of a few hours, a comet's
tail has been actually reversed, as the comet's head has
passed, in that short time, from a position on one side of the
sun to a position on the side exactly opposite. But the
reversal does not take place at perihelion, but as the comet

passes from one end to the other of the htics rectum of its
orbit — a line at ri'jht amjles to its direction from the sun
when in perihelion. Nor is the reversal ever instantaneous.
In the case of the great comet of 1811 the reversal was not
completed in much less than a year. There is no other
mystery in such reversal, whether slow or rapid, than there
is in the general law that a comet's tail is turned always
from the sun, of which the.se reversals are but special cases.

* * *

A CORRESPONDENT at Pemambuco asks me (or rather, I
should say, asked me a long, long time ago) whether the
right saying is " De morluk nil nisi honum," or " De 7nortuis
nil nisi bene." I never had any classical knowledge worth
speaking of, though I read my Homer, my Virgil, and my
Horace, my Euripides and my Terence, with ever-growing
pleasure and satisfxction — which, I find, is not always the
case with those painstaking college friends of mine who
could descant most learnedly on the force of Kara in com-
position, and like delectable details. Frankly, I have not
the slightest idea where the expression which in England
we render always de mortuis nil nisi homim had its origin.
If such origin is known, the question of the right form can
probablj' be at once disposed of Yet, after all, even this is
doubtful. Every one knows that Virgil (or Vergil — which
is it?) wrote Facilis defCfnsus Averni or Averno ; yet no
one would pretend to aver that Averni or Averno is right,
in ftice of the fact that while many excellent editions give
one form, many not less excellent give the other — the old
Delphin and the modern Oxford agreeing in Averno, which
is the form I always employ myself.

* * *

INIy Pemambuco correspondent, who is a naval officer
(and whom I beg to thank for a highly interesting letter)
writes that every German at his station gave bene as the
right reading, every Englishman giving honum. A German
paper which was referred to on the subject thanked its
correspondents for their trust in its Latinity, and explained
that since the expression De mortuis nil nisi hon}im, or bene,
is short for De mortuis nil nisi bonum vel bene dicitur, or
" Let nothing be said of the dead but," &c., bene the adverb
must be preferable to bonum the adjective. To one who has
no pretensions to Latinity, dicitur, as used by thLs classical
authority, sounds appalling. In my ignorance 1 should
have suggested dicatur. But be that as it may, I cannot
but think his dogmatic decision open to question. In read-
ing dear old Cicero I have come across the suggestion
Ul niltil pro'ter verum diceretur bonum ; and Latin good
enough for Cicero is good enough for me, however unsatis-
factory it may seem to our classical German editor.

* * *

Of course all English readers remember Thackeray's
Roundabout Paper " Nil Nisi Bonum," which settles the
question of customary English usage.

* * *

Speaking of familiar Latin sayings and quotations, I
frequently notice in English, American, and Continental
papers the rendering (in their various vernaculars) "I fear
Greeks and those who biing gifts," as conveying the idea
expressed in the fomiliar " Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes."
Laocoon, we may be sure, addressed no such feeble warning
to his countrymen, when he closed his ardent address with
the familiar words : —

Equo ne credite, Teucri.
Qiiidquid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.

Scan the line, and the stress falling on the et, as it closes
the heavy spondee before dona ferentes, would of itself
suffice to show that it means not merely " and," which in

258

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

tliat position would be inane, but "even" or "even though."
The Greek nai had a similar force, as in the well-known
line, "EKTOpa, kox /iC/iawra, /u.a;();s <j)(r'](Te(T6ai mm. What
would be thought if this line were rendered " I will keep
back Hector and one raging," instead of " Hector, even
though (he be) raging " 1

* * *

The lateness of my reply to my Pernambuco correspondent
reminds me to remark here that I receive many letters at
my distant home, on the banks of the Missouri, after they
have made a roundabout journey through London, to which
it seems idle to respond, so late as my answers would appear,
especially if sent from St. Joseph at such a time as to reach
Messrs. Spottiswoode just after a number was ready for the
press. I appreciate, however, very much the kindly letters
I constantly receive.

* * *

At St. Joseph, by the way, we have been having during
the last week some rather trying weather. What would
they think in England of a week during which the after-
noon thermometer has shown each day over 100 degrees in
the .shade, while even in the night the temperature has
scarcely once gone below 85 degrees 1 On one day the
number of deaths from sunstroke (probably encouraged by
whisky nips and unsuitable food) must have risen through-
out the States to over a thousand, judging from the number
officially recorded in the larger towns.

As one correspondent sends me a cutting from the Pall
Mall Gazette describing a meteor seen at " St. Joseph, a vil-
lage in Iowa," marking this passage as probably referring
really to St. Joseph, Mo., I may as well point out that St.
.Joseph, Mo., is not a village but a large town, numbering
50,000 inhabitants, with a dozen banks, three dozen churches,
several hotels, one of which is about half as large again as
the Grand Hotel, Brighton, and railway communication by
ten lines with surrounding regions, to which even as I write
three new lines are being added. St. Joseph is placed as
the second richest city in the United States, in proportion to
its population, Portland, Oregon, being the first ; and as the
Clearing House records for the last half-year have indicated
a constant advance on the corresponding weeks of last year
by from 40 to 90 per cent., it may be inferred that St.
Joseph is a thriving city. It has been considered rather
old-fogeyish for some j'ears past, most of its wealthier
citizens having rather set their face against improvements.
Bat a change has recently come over St. Joseph in this
respect, and improvements are now in progi'ess everywhere
throughout its extent.

* * *

I SUPPOSE there must be a score of St. Josephs or more
in the United States.

* * *

I OFTEN wonder at the novel experiences I encounter in
lecturing, because after giving 2,()00 lectures one would
suppose there could hardly remain anything new to be met
with. But my last lecture in America, given on July i,
a broiling hot day, at Lexington, Kentucky, brought me a
stranger and more unpleasant experience than in nearly a
score of years' lecturing I have ever encountered. I was to
give two lectures for a semi-religious, quasi-scientific body,
called the Chantangua Society, whose object seems to be to
provide cheap lectures, Chinese lights, literary scrap-work,
and holidays, profitable to promoters, all over the States. I
might have suspected something of what was in store for
me by the beggarly nature of the terms offered me. But I
have had pleasant times in Old Kentuck, and notably in

Lexington, so I elected to travel 1 ,400 miles and give a
week's work for about a fourth of the fair price — (the
labourer at 9.") in the shade is worthy of his hire). The
society, which cleared a large enough profit to buy the
ground on which the entertainment was held, could not
afford, it appeared, to hire my lanternist, nor to engage a
lantern and lanternist in Lexington : but borrowed a
lantern (I was, unfortunately, foolish enough to lend them
mine), and undertook to work it by some capable volunteer.
The lantern was sent on four days before I arrived, and at
my cost. I supposed, of course, that the volunteers would
try their hands at working it, according to printed instruc-
tions forwarded them. To make a long story short, I was
met on arrival at the grounds just before the first lecture,
with the appalling question, " What gases do you use for
this lantern t " We used none, I need hardly say, that
night, and I left Lexington till the next lecture, having
given the secretary — a Professor (stc) W. D. Clintock —
very clearly to understand that if his volunteers could not
work my lantern, he must hire a properly trained lanternist.
Will it be believed that on the night of the last lecture,
three days later, they had not learned even how to fix the
lenses 1 They broke the condenser by setting it too near
the glowing lime, failed to get any disc on the screen, and,
adding insult to injury, the Rev. Professor, otherwise the
hopeless incapable to whom the fiasco was due, deliberately
told the audience that as I had lent the lantern the fault
was mine. Their applause after I had replied showed
whom they believed, and I received immediately any
number of assurances of sympathy from the best members
of the community. But such experiences sicken even the
veteran lecturer.

Industrial Ireland. By Egbert Dennis. (London :
John Murray. 1887.) — Amid the oceans of contradictory
talk and reams of printed discussion with which the British
nation has been so long afflicted, we can assert, quite un-
hesitatingly, that no contribution towards the solution of
the ve.cata qua;stio of Ireland equal in value to that of
Mr. Dennis has so far appealed. To anyone who may feel
disposed to regard such unqualified praise as partaking of
the nature of hyperbole, we would simply give the advice
to read the book for himself, and learn how, within the
compass of 202 pages, its author shows in what way Ireland
might I'eally be made pi-osperous, and, as an immediate con-
Sequence, happy and contented. His remed}' is no quack
political panacea. He has no sympathy with the venal and
unprincipled crew who, themselves living on the earnings of
the cookmaids and hodmen in New York, foment agitation,
lest its cessation should drive them themselves to the
necessity of earning an honest living. He does not profess
to believe (what honest man does ?) that a Parliament of
Healys, Harringtons, and Sextons on College Green would
be the salvation of the country. No ; his cure for the evils
which beset our unhappy neighboins across St. George's
Channel is of a very much more simple character. It is
WORK — nothing more. A quotation from John Bright
which appears on the title-page forms the keynote of the
entire volume. " The greatest cause," .said that great
orator and statesman, "of Ii'eland's calamities is that
Ireland is idle. Ireland is idle, therefore she starves.
Ireland starves, therefore she rebels. We must choose be-
tween industry and anarchy." No one who has ever
been in Ireland, and assuredly no one who has ever
lived there, will dispute the truth of these words. The
staple crop of the country, the potato, affords a peren-

September 1, 1887.]

KNOV^LEDGK

259

nial illustration of this. It is grown simpl_v because it costs
less trouble and work than any other. The occupier of a
wretched acre or two sticks his potatoes into the ground (or
rather his women-folk do for him), and leans against the
wall smoking until they come up. And he calls this farm-
ing I What inexhaustible resources Ireland possesses in the
shape of animal, vegetable, and mineral wealth, and how
easily they might be utilised, the reader must go to Mr.
Dennis's pages to discover. We cannot help feeling that the
circulation of this admirable book throughout the length and
breadth of Ireland might almost be a matter of State
policy. Certainly any patriot who wished to confer a lasting
benefit on the country might employ his money much more
unpi-ofitably than in promoting such circulation. It might
render impotent the gang who earn their American wages
by fomenting outi-age and strife.

Eoinanci of the Wool Trade. By James Boxwick,
F.R.G.S. (London: Griffith, Farran, Okeden i Welsh.
1887.) — The words "the wool trade" scarcely appear to
lend themselves to romance, and yet, within the compass of
this book, Mr. Bonwick contrives to pack an amount of
information, much of it fresh and all of it interesting, of a
character which largely justifies his choice of a title. He
treats of the various sorts of sheep scattered over the face
of the globe, of their breeding and management, and of wool-
production as carried on here and in the Antipodes. He,
further, devotes considerable space to a description of wool-
manufacture, both as practised in the Britkh Islands and in
Australasia. His account of the pioneers of the wool trade
in Australia, and of the difficulties against which they per-
force had to struggle, might, in parts, almost be taken from
the pages of a novel. The perusal of the volume on our
table may be commended to everyone who is curious to
learn the history of the coat on his own back.

The Kabbalah Unveiled. By S. L. MacGeegor Mathers.
(London : George Redway. 1887.) — Beyond a general idea
that the Kabbalah contains the esoteric philosophy of the
Jewish doctors, we venture to think that the acquaintance
of the average educated Englishman with the nature of this
curiously crazy book might almost be expressed algebraically
as a — quantity. Mr. Mathers, then, has rendered a certain
amount of service to the mystic and the inquirer into occult
methods of exegesis by his English rendering of Von Eozen-
roth's Latin version of the extraordinary intellectual vagaries
of the Hebrew commentators on their Scriptures. That so
wonderful a series of examples of misdirected ingenuity and,
in places, the most utter childishness should ever have been
held to have been taught by the Almighty Himself to a
select company of angels, who formed a theosophic school in
Paradise (1), affijrds tolerably strong indication of the intel-
lectual depth to which the recipients of such a creed must
have descended, or rather from which they had not emerged.
It is simply impossible within the limits of space accorded
to reWews in these columns to select illustrations in sui)port
of these allegations from the pages before us — even if it would
not be blasphemous to do so. It must suffice, then, to say
here that the Bible is interpreted by such expedients as
those of forming anagrams of the names which occur in it,
by assigning numerical values to letters, and so forth. To
have discovered that the letters forming the words *' Sir
Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne the Baronet " may be
transposed into " Yon horrid butcher Orton, the biggest
rascal here " ; or that the numbers equivalent to the Greek
letters rAaSo-ron/ (i.e., 3, 30, 1, i, 200, 300, 70, 50, and 8)
when added together give the number of the beast, 666,
would have rejoiced the heart of the Rabbi Simon Ben
Jochai, and probably been accepted by his followers as a
direct and immediate revelation from Heaven. Verily the

Bible has been wounded in the house of its friends, who
have tried to read meanings into it of which its various
authors were utterly and absolutely innocent ; and from
Ben Jochai down to Kinns have onlj' obscured what was
clear enough to every ordinary intellect already. But
although we have said with perfect plainness what we think
of the matter of the Kabbalah, we may add that it is worthy
of perusal by all who, as students of psychology, care to
trace the struggles of the human mind, and to note its
passage from animalism through mysticism to the clearness
of logical light and that scientific mode of thought and
reasoning which can appraise the doting ramblings of the
Jewish fathers at their true value.

The Religion of Socialism. By Ernest Bei.fort Bax.
(London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey &: Co.) — If anyone
wishes to see the dreary sophistry and platitudinarian rant
of Messrs. Hyndman and Co. presented with such in%-iting-
ness as an atithor possessing a certain amount of culture can
confer upon it, he may find it in this volume. Whether,
though, a thin electro-plating of grammatical, and even in
places polished, language really renders the monster of
Socialism any more attractive, or serves to conceal the
stupendous fallacies underlying its fundamental tenets, the
reader must judge for himself.

Disease and Sin. By a Medical Muser. (London:
Wyman it Sons. 18S6.) — Here we have "a hap'orth of
bread to an intolerable quantity of sack " in the shape of a
very few useful comments on disease, but too sparsely scat-
tered in a very ocean of twaddle and preachee-preachee.
The '• Medical Muser " talks with a kind of pitying contempt
of Darwin I and condemns evolution toto ccelo ; believes that
the first chapter of Genesis really gives an account of the
creiition of the visible universe ; asserts that man was
created perfect (his knowledge of the prehistoric races being,
apparently, like the joint-stock companies, " limited ''), and
so on. His intimate acquaintance with physical science
may be gauged from the single sentence we propose to quote
from his book. '• Light," he says, " is the primary force,
for it is positively proved that it does not depend upon
vibi-ations of matter " ! But it is, of course, open to this un-
assuming author to assert that the medium filling all space
whose vibrations of certain orders do affect us as light is not
matter — and perhaps it doesn't matter mttch, after all.

Labour Cajntalisation. By Wordsworth Doxisthorpe.
(London : Liberty and Property Defence League. 1887.) —
It is a long time since we have read a more able and
thoughtful work than that whose title heads this notice.
We will not weaken or spoil Mr. Donisthorpe's argument by
any attempt to summarise it here. It must be read in all its
logical sequence to be appreciated. Every one interested in
the progress of the working classes, and even in the stability
of the nation itself, should obtain and study this trenchant
brochure. He can scarcely rise from its attentive perusal
without being a wiser man. There is, by the wa}', one
misprint on p. 18, which makes nonsense of the sentence as
it stands. It consists in the omission of the words " is not"
after " diameter" and before =3-11:159. Even a microscopic
blunder like this is out of place in an essay of such unques-
tionable general merit as the one before us.

The Cruise of the Land Yacht " Waiulerer." By Gordon
Stables, CM., M.D., R.N. (London: Hodder &
Stoughton. 1886.) — If enthusiasm in a cause were all that
is needful to make converts, then might we expect all the
pa.ssable roads in the kingdom to be thronged in future
with more or less luxurious caravans during spring, sum-
mer, and autumn : for surely never did man enter more
thoroughly, heart and soul, into a novel form of adventure
than does Dr. Stables appear to have done in his essay in

260

KNOMTLEDGE

[September 1, 1887.

" Caravanning." His first essay in his dainty house upon
wheels, made in his own county, Berkshire, proved so
eminently satisfactorj*, that he deliberately set himself the
task of travelling gipsy fashion up into the North of
Scotland, and the record of this tour forms the substance
of the book now before us. . . . Starting in the spring of
1886, Dr. Stables journeyed from Berkshire, through Ox-
fordshire, Warwickshire, Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire,
Yorkshire, Durham, Northumberland (skirting the coast),
Berwickshii'e, Haddingtonshire, Edinburgh, Linlithgow, and
so to Glasgow. Back through Stirlingshire, and then north
through Perthshire, and across the Grampians to Inverness.
His " Land Yacht " was a two-ton copy of a gipsy's travel-
ling van, built of solid mahogany and titled with every
conceivable comfort and elegance, giving two powerful
horses nearly as much to do as they could accomplish at all
in the hilly country through which it p.assed. The crew, all
told, consisted of Dr. Stables himself, his valet cook and
fiictotum, his coachman, a gigantic Newfoundland dog, and
an Australian parrot. What he saw, whom he met, how
he lived, and what real perils (notably in the ascent of the
Grampians) he encountered, the reader must go to his chatty
and very readable book to discover. Certainly a freer,
happier, or more enjoyable life than he depicts it seems hard
to imagine. Of course he is a man of intellectual resource
and refined tastes, with a keen eye for the million beauties
of nature, a love of music, and a soul for poetry ; and it is
quite conceivable that a man with fewer endowments might
find such a pilgrimage a thought weary at times, especially
during a sequence of wet weather ; but our author paints his
own experience in such fascinating colours that the British
Waggon Company (who built "The Wanderer") ought
to be inundated with orders prior to the next touring
season. All who read this record, and they will be many,
will learn of Dr. Stables's sad experience in committing his
caravan to the tender mercies of the railway on his return
from the far North, and will heartily sympathise with its
owner in his grief and di.sappoiutment at finding how the
Company, or its servants, had " made hay " of all his furni-
ture and delicate fittings when it arrived at its destination.
His book concludes with practical hints and advice to all who
may think of adopting his somewhat novel form of loco-
motion, and to such it will be found as useful as it is
amusing.

The Young Tea-Planter's Companion. By T. F. Deas.
(London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, & Co. 1886.) — It
is only within a comparatively few years that tea-planting
in Assam has come to be regarded among the businesses
or " professions " to which an educated English youth may
proBtably devote himself, and has supplied yet another
answer to the increasingly ditficult question, " What shall
we do with our sons 1 " Mr. Deas, in the entirely practical
book before us, goes into the minutest details of the work
of a garden and factory, and gives explicit instructions for
the cultivation of the plant, its picking, drying, and pack-
ing, and even the method of keeping accounts on a tea
plantation. Plans and sections of the buildings and bunga-
lows needed are given, with details of their construction ; in
fivct, the work is a complete i-aJe mecum for the young
planter newly entering upon his work.

Lunar Scierice : Ancient and Modern. By the Rev.
Timothy Harley, F.R.A.S. (London : Swan Sonnenschein,
Lowrey & Co. 1880.) — Mr. Harley's book is one which it
would be difficult to classify, so inextricably are astro-
nomical constants and .sermonising intermixed in it. It
contains a considerable amount of fairly trustworthy
information on the size, weight, distance, and motions
of our satellite ; but, if it is to be accepted as a work
of reference in connection with these constants, it is a

pity that its author did not go to some standard authority
like Neison for his quantities, and not depend upon a mere
compiler like Mr. Lockyer. In connection with this, should
the work before us ever run into a second edition, Mr.
Harley maj' with advantage make the following corrections
of statements to be found in pp. 9, 10, 11, and 17. Imprimis,
the moon's mean distance is 238,84:0'25 miles, her maximum
distance, 252,972 miles; and her minimum distance,
221, 61i miles. Moreover, her true diameter is 2,163-06
mUes. In the next place, the earth's equatorial diameter
is 41,852,404 feet— i.e., 7,926-59 miles— and not "just
under 7,926 miles," as stated in his text. These are com-
paratively trivial amendments, but anyone writing a treatise
on lunar physics in the year 1886 is at least bound to
furnish his readers with the latest results of investigation
in the subject of which he treats. With one portion of Mr.
Harley's book we are unfeignedly pleased. With a regard
for truth at once creditable to him as a man of science and
a clergyman, he discusses the alleged miracle described in
Joshua X. 12, 13, only to come to the conclusion that, as
he says, " We do not for a moment hesitate to pronounce
the story to be apocryphal in essence, and poetical in form."
For his cogent reasons for arriving at this conclusion we
must refer the reader to the book itself. How much of the
book of Joshua was inspired it is needless to di.=cuss here.
It is abundantly certain that the interpolation from the
book of Jasher was not. The reader unfamiliar with
current works in astronomy pure and simple may learn
a good deal from Mr. Harley's pages.

Bust, Smut, Mildew, and Moidd. An Introduction to the
Study of Microscoinc Fumji. By M, C. Cooke, M.A.,
LL.i). Fifth edition. (London: W. H. Allen k Co.
1886.) — Now that a really serviceable microscope is pur-
chaseable for about 5Z., and the instrument has become
widely popular and diffused to an extent which fifty years
ago would have seemed incredible, there is, and must be,
ex 7iecessilaie, a large amount of microscope- power running
absolutely to waste for want of some definite scheme of
investigation or choice of subject to be studied. To all,
then, who are tired of examining a limited series of slides
over and over again. Dr. Cooke's work addresses itself, and
introduces them to a world of wonders — only, in a majority
of cases, too close at hand — which will furnish an inex-
haustible storehouse of work for the student. Whether we
consider the colouring, the form (in certain cases quasi-
geometrical), the life-history and mode of reproduction of
these minute and humble forms of vegetable life, or the im-
portant part they play in the economy of nature, we cannot
fail to be struck with the vast field for res&arch which their
structure and formation present. That Dr. Cooke's capital
little book has supplied a distinct want we have evidence in
the fact that it is the fifth edition that lies before us. His
language is always plain and intelligible, and his descriptions
of the various lowly fungi of which he treats are admirably
illustrated by no less than 269 figures drawn and coloured
after nature by Mr. Sowerby. Every possessor of a micro-
scope should have this book on his shelves.

A Si/nopsis of Elementary Eesitlts in Pure Mathematics.
By G. S. Carr, M.A. (London : Francis Hodgson.
Cambridge: Macmillan A- Bowes. 1886.) — The author, or
compiler, of this wonderful monument of patient industry
may well be congratulated on having produced a work of
perennial value to the student. Containing no less than
six thousand propositions, formulse, and methods of analysis,
with abridged demonstrations, it ranges over the entire
field of pure mathematics, and embodies every useful pro-
position in the various branches of which it treats. The
student reading for his examination, alike with the advanced
mathematician, will find Mr. Cari-'s volume simply invaluable

September 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

261

as a work of reference. Practically everything that he has
met vrith in his reading he will here tind succinctly ex-
plained and illustrated by an approprLite demonstration.
It contains the essence of a very large number of works
indeed, and to all who have previously studied any of the
very various subjects with which it deals, it will almost
stand in the place of an extensive collection of books. The
figures are models of clearness, and the index Ls exhaustive.
It is, in fine, emphatically a work without which no mathe-
matical library can be complete.

Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research.
May 18S7. (London: Triibner & Co.)— In the year 1884
an attempt was made to get this magazine to advertise a
person named Eglinton, a slate-writer ; first by sending a
book to us for review, and then by a frantic eflbrt of a cer-
tain " spiritualistic " journal to provoke us into a discussion.
Both, of course, failed, and Eglinton had to announce his
tricks through some other medium. One of the most
interesting things — among many — in the May part of the
Proceedinys of the Society for Psychical Research is a
description of certain experiments, and a discussion of their
results, which throw the strongest possible light on the way
in which this Eglinton deludes the fatuous creatures who
resort to him :is a means of communication with the other
world. We would urge every one interested in this form of
imposture to obtain the number of the Society's Proceed-
ings now before us straightway, and to read the papere by
Professor Carvill Lewis and Jlessi-s. Hodgson and Davey
with all the care and attention he can bestow upon them.
They will be found amply to repay the trouble. Xor, as we
have previously intimated, will the remainder of the number
be found destitute of interest, containing, as it does, the
presidential address of Professor Kalfour Stewart and
several essays by Messrs. Myers and Gurney. The weakest
part of the " psychical " case, as expounded in the volume
on our table, is, as it seems to us, that founded on the
observation of so-called hypnotic phenomena ; as, within
our own experience, there is no class of performance which
so readily lends itself to impostures as this does, or in which
such imposture is so difficult to detect.

Geology of yorthumberland and Durliam. By G. A.
Lebour, M.A., F.G.S. (Newcastle-upon-Tyne : Lambert &.
Co. 1886.) — Originally prepared as a text-book for
Professor Lebour's Class of Geological Surveying, his work
has expanded in this, its second, edition into a compendium
of the geology of our two northernmost English counties.
Himself apparently more espedally a physical geologist.
Mr. Lebour furnishes a quantity of information with
reference to the pateontogi-aphical character of the strata
which he describes, in the shape of numerous pi'ettj'
complete tables of the fossils found in them. Five plates
and seventeen woodcuts in the text sufficienth' illustrate
a volume which will certainly be found valuable by all
scientific visitors to Northumberland and Durham, and by
others who may wish to learn all that is known as to the
geological structure of those counties.

On Forecasting the Weather. By B. G. Jenkins. (F.
Hayez, Brussels. 1887.) — L'nless our memory is more
treacherous than usual, the last time we met Mr. Jenkins
in print was on the annoimcement cf his having found a
celestial mare's-nest in connection with a luminous spot on
the planet Mercury in transit. His latest discovery in
equine nidification takes the form of a revelation that the
weather has a sixty-two year period, and that this is strictly
referable to a lunar cycle of identical duration, at the end
of which he asserts the moon is in apogee, and perigee in
new and full, ifcc, at the same dates that she was sixty-two
years ago. Now, imprimis, this is simply untrue ; albeit

what is asserted really happens at the end of fifty-four years
2)lus thirty-two or thirty-three da)'s. Proceeding, however,
we find the discrepancies between Mr. Jenkins's years of
comparison disposed of on the assumption of " inequ.alities
in the moon's daily motion " ! ! I Furthermore, Mr. Jenkins's
months are calculable from a certain time after apogee to a
certain time after the succeeding apogee ; while the greatest
amount of rain falls, as he asserts, about three months after
the nearest approach of the moon to the Earth ! We learn
with unbounded surprise that all this stuff has been printed
at the cost of the Eoyal Academy of Belgium, "after being
examined by an astronomical commission." We are most
curious to know the names of the astronomers (?) who
sanctioned such publication.

Transit Tables for 1887. By L.itimer Clark, F.R.A.S.,
M.I.C.E. (London and New York : E. i F. N. Spon.
1887.) — Once more we greet with sincere gratification the
appearance of Mr. Latimer Clark's excellent and most useful
little volume of tables, indicating as its annual appearance
does the existence of an extensive public interest in the
question of obtaining rigidly accurate time, independently
of local clocks and other imperfect methods of ascertaining
it. Furnished with one of the cheap and efficient transit
instruments of Mr. Clark's invention, and the volume before
us, anyone and everyone, be his position the most isolated
pos.sible, may determine his time within a fraction of a
second — a boon only to be realised by those who have once
enjoyed it. How it is to be obtained may lie learned from
Mr. Clark's full and instructive preface.

Alpine Winter in its Medical Aspects. By A. Tucker
Wise, M.D., L.R.C.P., etc. (London : J. i "A. Churchill.
188tj.) — The favourable notice of the first edition of Dr.
Tucker Wise's book, which we felt it our duty to give on
p. 346 of our Sixth Volume, is justified by the appearance
already of its third. It certainly deserves the careful study
of all afflicted with lung disease.

Household Health. By B. AV. Richardson, M.D.
(London : Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.
1886.) — A book to be commended to every occupier of .a
house, be his social i-ank what it maj-. The extraordinarily
low price at which Dr. Richardson's work is published
renders it eminently suitable for distribution among a class
whose neglect of household hygiene is a chronic source of
danger in large towns and cities.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR SEPTEMBER.

POT.S in varjins; numbers, though rarel}- of any
cinsiderable size, continue to appear from time to
time on the suns disc. Towards the end o£
September the zodiacal light may be seen in the
east before sunrise. The aspect of the night sky
is shown on Map IX. of " The Stars in tlieir
Seisons." Mercury is a morning star at the be-
ginning of the month, but passes behind the sun
on the 10th, and subse^iuently becomes an evening
star. He is very inditferently placed for the observer throughout
September. Venus begins September as an evening star, but comes
into inferior conjunction with the sun on the 21st. At and about
this date she is a glorious object in the telescope, and particular
attention should be paid by the observer to the visibility, or non-
visibiUty of her dark limb. The night sky, in so far as the planets
are concerned, is an absolute blank, the whole of those exterior to
the earth being, for the observer's purpose, invisible. The moon is
full at llh. 12-7m. A.M. on the 2nd, enters her last quarter at
3h. 3-2m. in the afternoon of the 10th, is new at Ih. 59-8m. r.M. on
the 17th, and enters her first quarter at oh. 3 !)m. in the early morn-
ing of the 24th. The moon will occult six fixed stars during the
present month. The first is the 6th magnitude one, 29 Sagittarii,
which will disappear at the moon's dark limb on the 2+th, at
lOh. ISm. P.M., at an angle of 180° from her vertex. She will have
set ere it reappears at her bright limb. On the 25th Sagittarii, a

262

KNOVSTLEDGE

[September 1, 1887.

star of the 5th magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb at
llh. 27m., at a vertical angle o£ 125°; but, as in the previous case,
the moon will have set prior to its reappearace. On the 26th B.A.c.
7053, of the 5ith magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb of the
moon at 5h. 35m. p M., at an angle from her vertex of 73°. It will
reappear at her bright limb at 6h. 55m. P.M., at an angle of 270°
from her vertex. One minute after its disappearance, another star
of the 5Ath magnitude, o Capricorni, will disappear at exactly
the same spot in the lunar limb, as B.A.c. 7053 itself, re-
appearing simultaneously with it at the bright limb, at a vertical
angle of 2011°. On the sam;; night, one minute after mid-
night, V Capricorni, also of the 5ith magnitude, will disap-
pear at the dark limb at a vertical angle of 93° ; but the re-
appearance will take place below our horizon. Finally, on the 2Stb,
42 Aquarii, a 6th magnitude star, will disappear at the dark limb of
the moon at 10b. 14m. P.M., at an angle of 65° from her vertex.
Its reappearance will happen at llh. Im. P.M. at her bright limb, at
a vertical angle of 1°. At noon to-day the moon is in Aquarius,
through which constellation she is travelling until 9 A.M on the 3rd,
when she enters Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). Here
she continues until lOh. A.M. on the 4th, when she passes into Cetus.
Skirting the confines of the two constellations, she re-emerges in
Pisces at noon on the 5th, only, however, to re-enter Cetus at
llh. A.M. on the 6th. She finally quits Cetus at 7h. A.M. on the 7th,
and crosses into Aries (" The Seasons Pictured," plate sxiii.). At
10 A.M. on the Sth she leaves Aries for Taurus, and is passing
through it until 8h. A.M. on the 11th, at which hour she arrives at
the northern prolongation of Orion. It takes her until 7 o'clock
the same evening to cross this, and she then comes out in Gemini.
By 1 P.M. on the 13th she has traversed the last-named constellation
and passed into Cancer (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.).
Her journey through Cancer is completed by Ih. A.M. on the 15th,
when she enters Leo. Here she remains until lOh. 30m. A.M. on
the 17th, at which hour she quits Leo for Virgo ("The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxv.), her journey through which terminates at
oh. 30m. A.M. on the 20th, when .she crosses into Libra (" The Seasons
Pictured," plate xxvi.). As she travels through Libra she arrives at
midnight on the 21st on the western edge of the narrow northern
spike of Scorpio. Eight and a half hours later she has crossed
this and entered Ophiuchus. She leaves Ophiuohus at Ih. a.m. on
the 24th for Sagittarius, and Sagittarius in turn for Capricornus at
Uh. 30m. A.M. on the 26th (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxi.).
At 1 Ih. A.M. on the 28th she crosses the boundary into Aquarius.
Her passage through Aquarius is completed by Ih. p.m. on the
30th, and she then, for the second time this month, passes into
Pisces (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). She is still in Pisces
at midnight on the 30th.

(!^ur ClKSsf Column.

By " Mephisto."

HE great International Chess Tournament, the fifth
congress of the German Chess Association, was
begun at Frankfiirt on July 18, and concluded on
August 2 with the victory of Captain Mackenzie,
who reached the tine score of 15 wins out of
20 games played. This result is all the more
creditable as this tournament, with twentj'-one
competitors, was the largest on record, and, on the
whole, it contained as strong a lot of players as
ever met together to engage in a tournament. Blackburne tied
for second place— always a creditable position — he having an equal
score with Weiss, of Vienna, namely, 131 each. No other English
competitor took a prize. Not many novelties h,ave been displayed
in the treatment of the openings. The Ruy Lopez and the Queen's
Pawn opening have had an undue share in the di'luit.. The second
player in the Queen's gambit declined, i.e., P to Q4, followed by
P to QB4, kc, have several times defended successfully with
P to QB3, and have eschewed playing P to QB4. The Sicilian
defence has proved itself entirely wanting, and will probably not be
resorted to again by modern players. The normal form of the
King's gambit has been played with success by Metger against
Englisch, and has apparently been discarded without sutiicient
reason. The Vienna game has on more than one occasion not
yielded a satisfactory result to the first player on persisting in
playing 3. P to KB4 after Black played 2. Kt to KB3. Finally, we
may mention that Tarrasch obtained a good game by defending the
Steinitz gambit played against him by Burn with 4. Q to R5 and
5. P to KKt4.

Appended are a few specimens of the play at the tournament.
Game played in the third round between the first prize-winner

and Dr. Tarrasch, who divided fifth and sixth prizes with Professor
Berger : —

Sicilian
Whitr. Black.

Mackenzie. Tarrasch.

1. P to K4 P to QB4

(See introduction for re-
mark on Sicilian De-
fence.)

Kt to QB3
Kt to B3
P to Q4
KtxP
B to K3

Kt to QB3
P to KKt3
PxP
B to Kt2
P to Q3

7. B to QKt
(The B is better placed on K2.)

7. B to Q2

8. Castles Kt to B3

9. P to B4

(P to KR3 was necessary to
present Kt to Kto.)
9. Kt to KKt5 I

10. KtxKt

Bl.\ck.

Defence.

White.
Mackenzie.

13. P to K6 !

14. Px B(ch)

15. B X Kt

16. Q to Qo

17. Ktx P

18. Pto QR4

19. Kt to Q4

20. P to B3

21. K to Rsq

22. P to B3

23. Kt to B3

Black.
Tarrasch.
Kt to K4
QxP
Bx B

Castles KR
QR to Ktsq
P to QR3
Q to R2
RxP
Q to Q2
K to Bsq

ll,'

■W'

■^^

S^

Black.

(Making a dash for an attack.)

23,

24. Kt to Kt5

25. RxP

26. R X (}

27. R to QBsq

28. E to KKtsq
(A blunder.

B ., P
R to E4
RxQ

R(Qt) to Q7
R(Q7)QB7
B toQ5
.\ny other

move would have done.)

29. R to Q8 (ch) K to Kt2

30. KttoK6(ch) Resigns

10. P X Kt
(Kt X B instead would have

led to exchanges of pieces
not disadvantageous to
Black as second player.)

11. B to Q4 P to K4

(Of course Black played for
winning a piece. For a
safe end-game he might
have played B x B. 11.
QxB, Q to Kt3, &c.)

12. PxP PxB

(An oversight. Black should i
have played PxP in- I
stead. Then if 13. B to j
B5, B to Bsq best, and
Black should win.) I

The following game was played on the Sth round, and may

serve as a fine illustration of the rapid and skilful mode of attack

adopted by Blackburne. He continued as follows : —

Position after Black's twenty-second move.

Taubenhaus.

Black.

White.

Blackburne.

September 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LKDGE ♦

263

■\VnrTE. Buck.

23. K to KKtsq B to B3

24. R to Kt3 Kt to Q I

25. QR to KKtsq R to KB3
BtoRfi KtoRsj
QtoKl2 P to B6

(R to Ksq seemed pre-
ferable.)
PxP RxP

29. Kt^to Kt5 B X Kt

(If R to K2 White may
plaj- Kt to KCi.)

30. R X B R to B2

31. Q to Kt3 P to B.5

32. Q to R4 P to Kt3

26.
97

28.

33.

34.
35.
36.
37.
3S.

38.
39.
40.

' 41.

WiirrE. Black.

P to K4 Kt to K6

(Kt to K2 was better.)

R X KtP !
B X P (ch)
B to K5 1
Q to R6 !
QxKt
(.Ml very
R to R2
Q5.)

P to Q.5
BxR

PxR

K to Ktsq
R to Kt2
R to B3

fine play ;
then 39. P

Q to KB2
R toB7
QxB

Q to Bt and White won.

Position resulting out oE a Sicilian defence plaj-ed at Frank-
furt :—

GOTTSCHALL.

■#/; M

WM'- •••

v/tSHiyA -^/^A^_ ^

The game terminated as follows : —

Wh.tr. Black.

R to R3 P to Kt5

Kt to Q.i P to K3

P to B.5 P X Kt

P to B6 B to Rsq

B to Q4 B to Q2

R to R4 P to R4

(If Kt X B White wins by Q to R6.)

RxP B to Kto
R X B (ch) and wins.

By "Five of Clobs."

THE DISCARD I\ ITS SUIT-DIRECTIVE ASPECT.*

N' three letters contributed to recent numbers of The
Field, General Drayson dealt with the "suit-
directive" aspect of the question of the discard, with
the apparent object of contributing his quota to the
modern industry of importing the greatest possible
number of cut-and-dried rules into the practice of
the game of whist. He considers four cases, of which
two are general and two are particular. In sum-
marising the conditions which he discusses, we shall

assume, once for all, that A and B are partners against T and Z ;

that A is always the elder hand ; and that the lead tirst described is

the original lead of the game. His four cases, then, are as

follow: —

1. (General.)— A leads trumps. Z wins, and returns the trump;
T is obliged to discard. Ought Y's discard to be from his strong or
from his weak suit ?

2. (General.)— A leads trumps. Z wins and returns the trump.

* From the Aitstralaiian.

B is obliged to discard. Ought B to discard from his strong or
from liis weak suit ?

3. (Particular.) — X leads trumps (say clubs), and the trumps are
evidently with i' and Z. Y holds spade 8, 7, 5, 4, 3 ; diamond A,
Kg; club !1, 6; heart, 9, 8, 3, 2. On the third round of clubs Y
must discard. Which card ought he to throw away ?

4. (Particular.) — \ leads trumps (say clubs), and trumps are
declared against Y and Z. y holds spade A, Kg, Q ; club 7, G ;
diamond A, Kg Q ; heart 7, 6, 5, 4, 3. On the third round of trumps
Y must discard. Which card ought he to throw away ?

To his general questions General Drayson replies that, in the first
case, Z has returned A's adverse trump lead. Hence trumps are
not declared against the co-partnership of Y and Z. 'J'herefore \'
ought to discard from his weak suit. But, in the second case, Z
has returned A's trump lead up to B"s weakness in trumps. There-
fore A is placed in the position of having to fight single-handed
against the combined trump strength of the adverse co-partnership.
Therefore B ought to discard from his strong suit. These sentences
do not give the exact terms in which General Drayson formulates
the principles by which he regulates his practice; but they convey
a clear idea as to the liard-and-fast sj'stem wliich he wishes to
estabhsh in order to minimise the trouble of thinking about the
varying conditions of play as they arise. In its broader aspect, of
course, we do not object to General Drayson's idea. For there can
be no doubt that it is desirable to lay down general principles by
which to regulate the protective discard. But for all practical pur-
poses the rule given by Mathews at the beginning of the century is
amply sufficient : — " It weak in trumps, keep guard on your ad-
versaries' suits ; if strong, throw away from them." Besirles, from
the terms in which General Drayson writes, it is pretty plain that
he is one of the very numerous believers in the fallacy that under
all circumstances length of plain suit means strength. It cannot
be too often repeated, however, that in themselves five or si.x minor
cards of a plain suit are an element of weakness, and that the con-
version of such weakness into strength requires (1) that the holder
should have opportunities of clearing the suit, and (2) that he or his
partner should either be protected in trumps or else that one of
them should have either the command of the adversaries' plain
suits or at least the power of obstructing their establishment.

With regard to the first of General Drayson's particular cases, it
is clear that to the third round of trumps Y cannot discard either
his ace or his king of diamonds. He must evidently throw away
either one of his five minor spades or one of his four minor hearts ;
and probably, in the majority of cases, his best course would be to
part with a spade —the chance of ultimately making the nine of
hearts being somewhat better than the chance of ultimatel.v making
the eight of spades. In General Drayson's fourth case tliere can be
no room for doubt at aU. Y must throw away one of his small
hearts, retaining the complete command of diamonds and of spades;
for his cards in both those suits are good of themselves against
anything but trumps, while his small hearts are valueless so long as
higher hearts are held by the other players. Since tricks are to be
made, what can it matter whether the making of one of them be
the prompt work of the diamond ace or the deferred privilege of
the heart seven ?

General Drayson does not think it necessary to supply any
answers to his own questions. But he proceeds to remark that
he has met several whist-players who claim that, in dealing with
the difficulty of the protective discard, the only thing to be borne
in mind is whether the original trump lead was by partner or
by adversaries. He gives the following illustration : — Being Y,
he held spades, 3 small ; diamonds, 2 small ; club A, Kg, Q, 3, 2 ;
and hearts (trumps), 3 small. Nothing is said about the score.
The play was that A led tierce major in trumps, and that B
failed on the third round. Then A led the king of spades,
which Z won with the ace. Next Z led the knave of hearts, to
which Y discarded a diamond. Whereupon Z led a diamond, find-
ing the complete command both of spades and of diamonds with
his adversaries; the ultimate result being that Y made only one
trick in clubs. General Drayson maintains, and rightly maintains,
that under tlie circumstances stated, Z ought not to have led a
diamond. It is clear that Z not only had a very bad hand, but also
that he knew that the strength of the spade suit lay against him.
Under such circumstances his play in drawing A's losing trump was
very much of a leap in the dark. Its only justification would liave
been that, being obliged to rely for defence on Y's hand, he played
the winning trump in order to ascertain Y's strong suit by inviting
him to throw away a losing card at a time when the command of
trumps wa.s in his favour. No wooden-headed rules — "apt for
blockheads,'' as " Mogul " said the other day — would have sufficed
to supply such a player as Z with the sense (in which General
Drayson shows him to be quite deficient) of the importance of
noting the time at which, ami the circumstances under which, Y''was

264

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[September 1, 1887.

forced to discard. Z, apparently, is a player who draws an adverse
losing trump merely because he has got the idea into his head that
it is his duty to prevent its ever winning a trick ; but at the same
time, without redectiug that if he has not a clear impression as to
what he ought to do next, it would be better to make his leap in the
dark before" he parts with the trump command for the mere pleasure
of disarming an adversary.

It is absurd, then, to attempt, as General Drajson has done, to lay
down canons of play to meet circumstances such as he contemplates
in his illustrative case. In framing conventional rules it is impos-
sible to make sufficient allowance for the "personal equal ion " of
the player by whom they are to be applied.

General Drayson suggests, however, that when a player, who holds
five minor cards of one plain suit, together with commanding but
numerically short strength in the other two, is compelled to part
with one of the former, the proper thing for him to do is to throw
away an unnecessarily high card. This is to be a new convention —
to be known as the convention of " change your suit from the suit
which your partner is now throwing away." It is a development,
according to its ingenious proposer, of the " call for trumps" — being
intended as a call, when trumps have been drawn, for one or other
of the remaining plain suits — the one being clearly indicated in the
preceding illustrative example, as necessarily being the club. It is
DOW nearly three years since General Drayson invited '• progressive "
wliist-players to turn their attention to his idea of adding the
"plain-suit Peter" to the recognised conventions of the game, and
he remarks somewhat plaintively, that, hitherto, his proposition has
neither been examined nor practised. He thinks, however, that
now that " American leads " have been fairly worked out the time
is ripe for further attempts to tamper with that portion of whist in
which— despite of all the " extensions " that have been hitherto
based on the absurd assumption that a principle is something of an
elastic character— the difficulties of the discard still survive to tax
the judgment of the whist-player. AVe are glad, liowever, to note
that, for the moment, at all events, the general's proposal has a
very fair chance of being quietly ignored by the London whist-
playing world.

There are several reasons for drawing this deduction. In the
first place, it is to be observed that in Knowledge, which, with the
exception of the t^ield, is the only journal in London in which whist
questions are regularly discussed, "Five of Clubs " (Mr. Richard A.
Proctor) no longer maintains towards the modern conventions the
attitude of unquestioning acceptance to which he committed
himself in the early days of his whist editorship. Moreover, not
content with modifying his own views on conventional play, he
has published a series of articles from " Mogul's " pen, of which
the first opened with the argument that the quality which gives to
whist its greatest charm is that it exercises the faculty of reasoning
from the known to the unknown. Hence the introduction into the
game of signals which convey positive information cannot but be
regarded as tending to make whist less scientific, and conse-
quently, to lower its character. It follows, then, that Pole outrages
common sense when he calls modem whist, as compared with the
whist of Mathews and DeschapeUes, the " scientific " game. For, in
point of fact, modern whist is only the old and really scientific
game, phis certain " dodges for giving information which are known
as signals.'* These are purely mechanical. Therefore, they are
"unscientific." For the very essence of a signal is that, by virtue
of a previous convention, it conveys certain definite information.
Moreover, as a matter of fact, so entirely does the meaning of an
arbitrary signal depend upon a prior understanding, that two of the
modern signals were once regarded as conveying different informa-
tion from that which they now give. If the matter be examined
carefully it will be found that one of two things must be true.
Either supposing all the players at a table to be possessed of equal
skill, the adoption of signals gives no advantage to any one of them
over any other ; or else if better players are pitted against worse,
the latter ought to have a handicap in their favour. In the latter
case, since, as a rule, odds are not given at the whist-table, signals
ought to be " squelched " without further argument, while in the
former there is no reason for introducing them. Why not be con-
tent, then, with leaving well enough alone ?

Such outspoken language as this is sufficient indication that at
length efforts are being made to open the eyes of the London whist-
playing world to the fallacies of the reasoning by which Cavendish
has succeeded for a long series of years in persuading himself and in
persuading many disciples that whist is improved by the introduction
of arbitrary and purely mechanical signals. According to " Mogul,"
the secret of his success is that " the inferior players, always con-

* There is more of true whist science in " Mathews on Whist "
than in all the modern treatises put together, excluding what has
been derived from Mathews.—" Five of Clubs."

stituting a majority," have been only too glad to avail themselves
of anything "which, apparently, they can use as well" as the most
gifted and the most skilful. To this is to be added the obvious con-
sideration that whenever any fad creeps in among the members of
a whist-circle, the non-faddists must either make the best of the
situation, or else they must resign themselves to the prospect of
going without their customary rubber. There remains, however, a
third fact of even greater significance than either of the two we
have already mentioned. Cavendish, whom " Mogul " dubs the
" arch-inventor of signals," lost no time in declaring his opinion
that "the difficulties of the discard cannot be satisfactorily disposed
of " by General Drayson's " cast-iron rules." Nor is this only an
indication that Cavendish is annoyed at finding that another con-
vention-monger has been poaching on his own pet and peculiar
manor. For the fact is, says Cavendish, that " the discard is often
a matter of judgment. Judgment cannot be taught by letters in
the Field, nor by whist-books, however practical." No doubt the
existence of spite in measurable quantity may be inferred from the
fact that in the /'(Wii the" practical " of the immediately preceding
sentence is printed with a capital " P." But the whist world is con-
cerned only with Cavendisli's change of front on the convention ques-
tion, and need not trouble itself about the exact amount of
irritation of temper with which he has begun to write off the six
million and odd square inches of pica type which embody his long-
continued efforts to knock the brains out of his favourite game.
Moreover, sudden as has been his conversion, there need be little
doubt that, although it seems to have come with a rush, it will
prove to be thorough and complete; for already, in one paragraph
of his criticism of General Drayson's suggestions, he says that, " of
all modern whist developments, the discard from the strong suit is
the one about the value and soundness of which no reasonable doubt
can exist." This statement, by the way, " Jlogul " absolutely con-
tradicts in the second of his Knowledge articles. The only
objection to the modern rule, continues Cavendish, is that to apply
it properly "requires the keenest whist judgment." In another
paragraph Cavendish remarks that "people who follow the rule of
discarding from the strong suit because the adversary has started a
trump lead are not worthy of being called whist-players." Nor is
this all. For in a tliird paragraph he, tlie greatest sinner
alive in that particular respect, remarks that "people talk and
write about whist as though it could be played by a machine."
To which he adds the naive confession that " no doubt there
are many players who regulate their plans by 'book alone,'
but they never rise above mediocrity." From the class of
writers, "however, whom Cavendish has in his mind, he expressly
exempts General Drayson by name, thus gracefully preparing
for the new era in his own history as a writer on whist, in
which he himself will deserve to be paid the same compli-
ment. Nor is there anything surprising in the suddenness of his
apparent conversion from the familiar errors of his ways. It is
quite in accordance with the known peculiarities of his natural
temperament. For, as Pembridge humorously remarks in the
" Decline and Fall of Whist," " the constitution of whist and the
constitution of our beloved country are both at the mercy of a
grand old man of exuberant verbosity. Each [of these] is able in
some extraordinary wa)' to persuade himself that the side of any
question on which he happens to be looking is not only the right
side, but that it positively has no other ; [and this, too,] in spite of
the fact that in previous stages of his existence he has himself both
recognised and vehemently supported that other side."

Contents

PAGE

Bflcon and Scifnce 217

The Story of Creaiion : a Plain Ac-
count of Evolution. Bv E. Clodd 219
Coal, Bv W. MattieuWiUianas .. 222

The One-Scale Atlas 2i4

Tl e Southern Skies 22S

Improving Shakespeare. Bv Ben-

Toio 226

The Saturday Retu'tc on Luck. By

Richard A. Proctor 228

Notes on Americanisms. By

Richard A. Proctor 230

Wind Myths. By "Stella Occidens" 232

OF No. 22.

PAOX

j How Americin-^ view Englind .. 233
The Wild West ; and hon' English-
men view America 234

I The Total Solar Eclipse of August

I lil 234

1 Gossip. By Richard A. Proctor . . 23S

Reviews 236

The Face of the Sky for August.

ByRR.A.S 238

Our Whist Column. By "Five of

Clubs" 238

Our Chess Column. By "Me-
phisto " 239

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

" KxowLKDOK" as a Monthly Magazine cannot be registered as a Newspaper for
transmission abroad. The Terms of Sulscription per annum aje therefore altered
as follows to the Countries named : s. d.

To West Indies and South America 9 0

To the East Indies, China, &c 10 6

ToSonthAfrica 12 0

To Australia, New Zealand, &C. 14 0

To any address in the United Kingdom, the Continent, Canada, United States,
and Sgypt, the Subscription is 7s. 6d,, ae herttofoie.

October 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

265

E]^E,tITERATUftE,&.^RlL

LONDON: OCTOBER 1, 1887.

HUMAN LIFE.

jjMONG the most perplexing problems re-
lating to humanity must be included the
strange contrast between what men aim at
in regard to human life, and what would
result if their efforts were successful. It is
an .accepted principle of philanthropy that
human hfe should be carefully nurtured in
all available ways; it is a recognised test of good govern-
ment and of satisfactory progress in civilisation that
population should increase, and that sickness, pesti-
lence, famine, war, and all death-dealing agencies should
diminish. But suppose the efforts of philanthropy, political
economy, and science in these directions were successful,
suppose that in all the chief nations and among all the prin-
cipal races the rate of the growth of population were
increa-sed, or even maintained unchanged, for but a few
centuries — the merest second in the history of the world
or even of races — what must inevitably happen ere long?
Would human h.appiness be increased ? Would, even in the
long run, human life be extended? On the contrary, utter
and irretrievable misery would ensue. The human race
would deteriorate ; nay, its growth and development
suddenly ceasing, it would run considerable risk of coming
to an untimely end.

I am not an admirer of Mr. Ruskin's philosophy — great
though he m.ay be as an art critic and as a rhetorician. I
consider, indeed, the attention it has received a most
depressing feature of the age, seeing that there is no con-
nection between art and philosophy, or between eloquence
and re.asoning, and Mr. Ruskin's philosophy is shallow, his
reasoning naught. Yet, underlying its absurdly fervid
grandiloquence, the following bit of fine writing contains
(or rather conceals) a most important truth. " Loss of
life 1 " says the eminent art critic ; " by the ship over-
whelmed in the river, shattered on the sea ; by the mine's
blast, the earthquake's burial, you mourn for the multitude
slain. You cheer the lifeboat's crew ; you hear with praise
and joy of the rescue of one still breathing body more at the
pit's mouth ; and all the while, for one soul that is saved
from the momentary passing away (according to your
creed to be with its God) " — [though .as to this, Mr. Ruskin,
" you can't quite always generally tell ; " the soul thus .saved
may have^may not, in fact, have done so well] — " the lo.st
souls, locked in their polluted flesh, haunt with worse than
ghosts the shadows of your churches, and the corners of
your streets ; and your weary children watch, with no
memory of Jerusalem, and no hope of return from their
captivity, the weltering to the sea of your waters of
Babylon."

If the thought underlying this turgid strain is just, if the
saving of life c;xnnot be regarded as always an unmixed
blessing — and who can doubt this? — how much more

obvious should it be that the numerical increase in the
number of the living may become the reverse of a blessin<',
indeed little better than an unmixed curse, to the whole
human race.

Before me lies a statistical record, from which I learn
that in England, despite emigration and widespread pauper-
ism (with attendant high mortality), the population, during
the last twenty years, has increased at the rate of lA per
cent, per annum, with every sign of growing at the same
rate, or even at an increasing rat«, for many years to come.
Admirable country I excellent administration I encouraging
outlook for the future ! At this rate the population of the
old country may be expected to increase tenfold in about
154 years. One rather wondei's how the question of wages,
already pressing rather seriously upon the English people
because of undue numbers, and consequently too close com-
petition (over-production of workers, in fact), will appear
when the encouraging development of the population of
England has gone on to this extent. Putting the present
population of England at about 30,000,000, the population
in 2031 wiU be 300,000,000, unless the encouraging growth
of numbers should in some way be interrupted.

But let us look a little farther ahead. England is not so
young a country but that we can look back over 621 years
of her history, to the year 1256, when the first of our
English Kings to celebrate a jubilee, Henry III., the
rather mild sou of the not exemplary John, had been fifty
yeai-s on the throne. During the interval which has elapsed
since then a great deal has taken place in England, but
England has not grown in population at the rate at which
she is gi-owing now. For if she had that would mean that
her population in 1256 amounted only to 3,000 persons, all
told; and C'ceur de Lion, Henry III.'s uncle, used up ten
times that number at least in fighting only. It would seem,
then, as though the population of England had not only
been growing, but growing at an increasing rate — a result,
indeed, which follows still more obviously if the actual
population in successive centuries, from the time of William
the Conqueror onwards until now, be considered. We may
then at least look forward for a continual increase at the
rate of 1^ per cent, during the next six centuries. What,
then, will be the pleasing state of affairs in England in
the year 2500 or thereabouts ? The population increasing
tenfold in 15-1: or 155 years, will by the year 2500 have
increased 10,000-fold, or will amount to 300,000,000,000,
exceeding some 200 times tlie probable present population
of the whole earth. There will then be about six square
feet of space for each inhabitant of England ; and bj' that
time, we may assume, the three-acres-and-a-cow idea will
have had to be given up by the statesmen swaying those
300,000,000,000 " under Britain's royal sceptre then." As
for the " imperial sceptre " with its sw.ay over the colonies
and subject populations of Great Britain, it would be diffi-
cult to say how it would work, even if the 9,000,000 of
square miles forming Great Britain's present empire should
by that time have increased to 20,000,000.

But the future of the United States, viewed in the same
way, is not less " encouraging," according to one view, or
less appalling according to the other. The population of
America doubles in about twenty years, or five times in a
century, five doublings meaning a thirty-two-fold increase.
In four centuries, at this rate, the increase of the population
of the United States would be about a million-fold (thirty-
two times thirty-two times thirty-two times thirty-two
times), or the population would amount to .sixty milhons
of millions, or thereabouts. This would be a population of
about 16,000,000 per square mile, or 10,000,000 per square
mile, assuming a fair absorption of surrounding territory,
and 4,000,000 per square mile if the whole of North and

266

KNOWLEDGE

[October 1, 1887.

South America were available for the American population.
A bout three-fourths of a .square yard of surface would then
be available for each inhabitant of the double continent. If
the whole earth were peopled by these 60,000,000,000,000
Americans, there would be nearly three square yards of
space for each person 1

Of course we know that there is no likelihood of any
race or nation increasing in population even at such rates
as 1^ per cent, for several centuries in succession. It is
not because of any real danger (or hope) that England, for
example, which now boasts of this rate of increase during a
quarter of a century, or the United States, which boasts of
a much greater rate of increase during a much longer time,
will continue to grow at this rate, that I have presented the
above startling figures. But it is worth while to consider a
little how far we are entitled to " rejoice and be glad " over
what we regard as progress, when it is clear that the pro-
gress cannot possibly continue without ruinous results for
the whole human race.

Especially startling, or rather oppressive, become the
thoughts suggested by this so-called progress when we re-
member how much more rapid is the progress of exhaustion
of our earth's accumulated stores on which the growing
pojiulation of the earth in part depends.

It might or might not be possible for the present popula-
tion of the earth to live, as of old the inhabitants of earth
were content to live, upon the annual produce of the earth
. — on the earth's income, not on her capital. But assuredly
whether this might be done or not, it is not done at present.
Year after year the buried stores of life, for that is really
what they should be called, are being brought in greater and
greater quantities to the surface, and used to supply the
human race with much more than the necessities of life.

In two States of the Union alone one kind of accumu-
lated earth life, the petroleum and natural gas store, has
been so rapidly used up that within one generation alone
stores which were millions of years accumulating will have
been almost wholly exhausted.

In Great Britain 150,000,000 tons of coal are yearly
brought to the pit's mouth, though it has become clear that
the effective supply will be exhausted at the present rate of
consumption in the course of ten or twelve generations at
the outside.

The forests of the earth, at any rate in all civilised
countries, a,ve being steadily destroyed, though it would be
quite possible so to arrange matters that the supply used
each year should be replaced by new growth during the same
time.

Like a spendthrift, the human race of to-day, boasting
itself " the heir of all the ages " in intelligence, is con-
suming at a rate fully one-hundred fold beyond what is just
the supplies which, as heir of all the geological jeons, it has
received — in trust partly for future generations.
• That men should rejoice when statistical records attest the
steady growth of all civilised nations in population, at the
very time that the stores of the earth are being wastefully
consumed, is as though the father of a growing family
should rejoice at each addition to his family circle, at the
very time when each year's accounts told him that his
means of providing for them were rapidly gi-owing less, and
exhaustion was imminently threatened.

, I have occasion often, as a student of astronomy, to touch
on the gradual dying out of the earth's vitality, and to
descant on the limited nature of the sun's supply of life-
giving energy. I remind my audiences in lectures, and my
readers in books and essays, that as the moon has died so
must the earth hereafter die ; and that as among the stars
(those other suns than ours) we find suns that are mani-
festly fading in lustre and even evidence of orbs which,

though once lustrous, are now dark and dead, so must our
sun one day lose his light and heat, and with them his
power of sustaining life in the worlds circling around him.
But I doubt whether the inhabitants of our world need
be very much interested in the future darkness of the sun
or in the coming decay and death of the earth. The
human race is taking excellent care that its duration shall
not extend to either of those dismal times (whichever of
them may be the first to come). Millions of years pro-
bably before the sun is dark, millions of years before our
earth is dead, the civilised human race will have exhausted
all that it has to live on, and will have come to an end
through sheer inanition.

No discovery of new scientific appliances can avail to save
our kind from this end, seeing that ever}' such discovery
would inevitalJy lead only to the moi'e i-apid exhaustion of
the aarth's garnered stores. Progress in civilisation, at
le.ast along the present lines, can only hasten the coming of
the end. For civilisation, as at present understood, culture
as at present alone appreciated, imply steady advance be-
yond the supply of mere necessities, beyond the mere
support of life — the steady development of new wants, fresh
pleasures, and greater luxury. Nothing could avail to make
the increase of life, which so many contemplate with satis-
faction, a real gain, or even to justify it, but some such
change in the ways of the human race as Cornaro adopted
for his own individual habit of life. When he found that
he was exhausting the very springs of life, wasting the
stored-up constitutional energies of his frame by unduly
luxurious living, he wisely changed his way of living to
what his friends regarded as a foolishly abstemious regimen.
Condemned by the unanimous voice of the physicians to
death within two years, he so developed his vital energies
that he lived for sixty-four years instead of two, attaining
the ripe age of ninety-nine years before death claimed him.
Moreover, whereas in the fulness of his youth and manhood
life had been but as a burden to him, life during the last
three-fifths of his time — for a quarter of a century beyond
the four score years, when, the Psalmist says, life is but
labour and sorrow — was to him well worth living, nay, full
of satisfaction and delight.

The human race is at present certainly advancing with
swift strides towards a very desolate condition, if not towards
death. It is not getting very much satisfaction out of its
wasteful and thoughtless manner of living. If a few opti-
mists recognise promise of good, more among us pessimisti-
cally ask the doleful question, " Is life worth living 1 " The
meliorists who, deploring the evil, still see hope of change
to wiser ways are few and low-voiced. Not regimen, which
is really needed, but recipe is chiefly suggested by short-
sighted men (whom the world mistakes for philosophers) to
improve this state of things. Philanthropy, communism,
socialism, anarchy, in turn hold out promise of improvement.
But in the meantime the stores of life, on which the vitality
of the human race as such must depend, are being used up
at such a rate that the time of final exhaustion lies within
measurable distance. And the statistician boasts, because
the records of birth rates and death i-ates show that the end
must be even nearer (supposing no change should take
place) than it would be if consumptipn went on no more
quickly than it is already doing.

The .steamees of the new American "Arrow Line" are to be
constructed upon a new principle, and with a view to an estimated
speed sufficient to make the voyage between New York and Liver-
pool in a little more than four days. The Pocahontas will be
540 feet long, will be prorided with 1,060 water-tight compart-
ments, 500 of which are to be below the water-line, and will have
twenty boilers with engines of 27,986 horse-power, and capable of
giving a speed of 22 knots an hour.

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

267

PLEASANT HOURS WITH THE MICROSCOPE.

By Hexry .J. Slack, F.G.S., F.R.M.S.

E\V phenomena in nature excite more as-
tomshmentthan tliegi^at changes in form,
habits, and capacities -svhich many crea-
tures visibly undergo in their passage
from an infantile to an adult state. The
transformations of insects must have been
the firet to attract attention, unless per-

mav hav^ h.. ^P' '','''*""'' °^ *'^® ^'''Jpole *« t^e frog
may liave been recognised at a still earlier timp Tht

Sn'^r -"f ""T *'>^"- t-nsformatTon butdo lo
begin an independent existence until thp^ o^^ •

mate,, fi,i3hed No one cou'" heStlt rro-^t^":
kitten as a small c^t, or a puppy as a little dog buf^iSout
actually seeing it come to pass" no one would^imalile that
a caterpillar was an incipient butterfly or iT,Hno]»
incinienf frr.rr \,~ 1 """^"^'"^j or a tiidpole an

incipient trog. As more and more is known of the wavs of
nature m the organic world, greater numbers of InTtances
are noted m which early life stages are passed under such
differences of aspect and org^xnisation as to throw into con
tT . ■n''^'''"? ^^^^'""^ ^f individualism and specTes"

ttreef t7w:'' 'f^'^^'' '^"^ "^""^^ °- individuTor
three? If we make a jump from the lower forms of life
o man, we might consider continuation of self-co^cioIneS
as sufficient evidence that child, youth, and mrwe^o^
happens tW P^-^^f ^7- but,how when, as occasionaHy
happen.-, there is a breach in the continuity, the same
man or woman exists in two or more distinct lives T^h
having peculiar and separate ideas, recollections, tho^Xs

iTknnw 't '''"?''*''' ^ ^^' "^'^^ --^ «tudy the Ks^
liie known to us, it seems that a man can be somebody eke
besides himself, we may the less wonder that rSmptr
alTmay'ir' ^PP^^^^ complete, distinct ISt
creature ^ successively belong to one and the same

to^L'^'^^ff* "" 'P^'^f ^* "^'^^^ t° be thought sufficient
to .how that a particular form, structure, aSd cWcter
were transmitted with considerable accuracyTnd pre^bn
through many generations, but in recent timasTv^^

Sr^and th:lT%'="^ ^T ^'^'^'^^-^^ i" "hi^h X
different slm. 1^'.. ™' °^ *^' """^^ ''^'"^^ ''^^ widely
fUTt a' °V'''' """"^ remarkable cases have been

detected amongst the infusoria through the researches of
Drs. Dalling. r and Drysdale. In one set of their verv remark
able investigations they found that after keepin/kmaTra
tion of cod's head for two or thi-ee months, vast numbed of
a certain monad appeared as little egg-shaped bodTraboi t
IT;^ K ^^'^V/"'"' ^'"^ provided with two Ion- very

ven 'the Ind T """"''f'"" "^P''^'-^ ^^i' -If-division^

alcordii" ti i T P' 'P''"'°» '"^ ^"°- Here then
according to old notions, was a good sneeies hut h^- ;„„„

sant watching from hour to hour an^ k to "Ura
small triangular cre^iture, swimming with four whips

thetil- °°' ^"""i '""'^''"'^ '^f -y connect on wi^h
the precedmg animals, was found to be related to them
m a most curious way. In the same field were som^
minute globes, showing nuclei, and gently wavin<. a couSe
of whips, between which, after a period of qu^esoencL a
small cone of sarcode was pushed out, and p^oIonleHnto
f}.. h fy^''''^"^'- P'-°'^e«es this whip diWded into two
the globe became oval and then spHt in two. The a-eatuTe^
thus formed each joined one of the first^mentioned 7m
their bodies united and grew into a triangular object wUh
two pairs of whips. After a time the whips dSpLred
and the object looked structureless and dLd T^n an
internal commotion ensued, and finaUy the thing burst and

otnew fet™n: «' ^'^ "''^"*'^* ''"^ ^^'^^- '^^ »--^

to^the°Dai-w;°^ '^'lu'"'^ "°* °"^-" ^^' ^-^ ■■'^-^1"-We help

micitcoSsts to he '"'■•'' '"* P'-^P'*'-^'^ '-'" t'^°"g''tf"l

SJectrtr/eprlent '^ ^^^''T " """"'"" '^"-"=^1
if \„ "represent in an fxclusive way anvthinw thit

to Tali a "*'"■ P'^"-°P'»->- or pro/isionally L d

tra""o:t;P"'"' "°'"" '*^ ^"^"-^ "f-^-t-y had beei

<n;atwmro7thJw- ^""'^ Kent, and described in his

Sterestin" ff ' ^?"°'^, *^=^* * well-known and highly

mteresting infusoria, the Actlnophr,,s Sol was the fin,l

other foLfrh'S"^' ''"'' Y^^^^on4 exLteS L 'wo
from the Lfs? "'n^ V^'^y ^'^^ the other, and also
irom the last stage. Copying Jlr. Kent's ti-ures we find
1) a pear-shaped bag, full of fine granule7with Il-n-.e
round vacuole near the thickest end? and a dXate whfp
springing from the thin one. This is not at all L ,,1^

StowtuVirJikl'T i nothing in r JptaWt^o
inoicate what it is hkely to do, or how to distinguish it with
any certai-.ty from similar monads which will "not undlrlo

spec s"' ittofT- f ^""^ "T'^ ^^^"^ l-"^- like a dS
species. -Instead of a smooth pear-shaped bod^■, we see one

taTntl^t. '' °7m "'*' l--ge conical projecti;ns bi't 1^!

w have a'ddl'^t 1 T^^'N" °'"=^" A4//«m). FinaHy
we have a deliaite globe, with a vacuole, a nucleus and an
aureole of extremely fine rays .springing from the 'intemd

Fig. 1.

S^^^J:'-'-'-

:::-^-0f^f^:::-

Fig. 3.

Fig. 2.

sarcode mass. The pear-shaped form not only differ

Tor ^f 'r/PP'r'^'^" ^•■°'^ *'>^ actinophrys form ^but th^
mode of hfe and organisation is changed.^ The fiist ha^\

S Thetf'*/'''^ '"^^ '""^ "' -" swim afteild
catch. The actinophrys waits till some appropriate object
happens to touch one or more of its i-ays, when ?K seize i

:^:^"it^S:- vrtcsi, ^,^±t

:^-Xl° trT '/t'=""S P°"---- If t^ey were m'erTv like
sticky threads of glue, the whole creature would soon b^

flagdk. °' ^^ '^^ •"«^«'"ents of their cilia or

In the pear-shaped form we recognise nothing to remind
us of the amceba, but the delicate rays of safcode'n he
actinophrys form suggest relationship L variou groups of
creatures, with or without shells, who obtain theS by
extending pseudopodia of sarcode, which, whether thicker
:2edr;r""' "P'-^P^^"- '^^ prolongations'otth:
_±^^2^^f^^^^o[^^^ked^ctino^js (fig. 4) was found by
» See Mont/ily Microscopical Journal for 1873.

2t)8

KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

the writer to be common in a rockpool at Oddicomba Bay,
Devon. It was provided with numerous rays in the form
of long slender cones, terminating in sharp tips. The body
was full of opaque particles, which prevented any structure
being detected. Some of these objects kept their rays
steadily and fully extended, others had drawn all or part

Fig. 4.

in and some of them did not preserve the globular shape
of the body.

Watching one of the fully-expanded specimens at in-
tervals for several liours I was rewarded by the sudden
disappearance of all the rays. They vanished like light
rays suddenly stopped by a screen. They soon came out
again, but not so quickly. The animal evidently had full
control of these processes, as on other occasions it withdrew
them slowly, and sometimes varied the mode of protrusion,
and also of retraction. These movements sometimes occurred
symmetrically, all the rays moving in or out in imiform
proportion. At other times some rays were fully re-
tracted, while others were left partially out, and once
the protrusion was quite irregular, some pseudopods being
tlirust across the others, deranging the pattern. This,
perhaps, occurred wlien the creature was tired or lazy. I
do not know whether any one has been fortunate enough to
trace the life-history of this marine form, and I have seen
no account of it. Mr. Gosse told me it was very common.

Under the name of Actinomonas niirahilis, Kent figures
a singularly beautiful object i-ayed like a delicate actinophrys,
standing upright upon an extremely slender and long stalk,
and provided with a long whip, whose wavings and lashings
would cause currents in the water, and thus bring food
within its reach. He found this type in ajar of sea-water
he had kept sundry creatures in for some weeks at Jersey.
The rays were so close and fine that, under low powers
they looked only like a haze surrounding the little globe,
and required a magnification of 800 to display their true
character. Kent's remark that the develop men t;il and re-
productive phenomena of this remarkable group (Actino-
monas) have yet to be determined is probably still true, and
leaves ample room for further interesting observations.

HEIGHT OF CLOUDS.

By Dh. K. F. Hutjuinson.

USSOOREE is one of our favourite hill-
stations in the great Himalaya range, and
is very easily reached by rail and road. Its
position can be found by running the eye
northwards (on any good map) from Agra
on the Jumna. Its Mall is 6,000 feet, and
its highest peak 7,026 feet above the sea.
Below it, and 2,239 feet above the sea, is
the wonderful valley of Dehra Dun, 3,761 feet below the
Mall. Of this more anon. No locality in the world can
boast of such views as Mussooree. Stand on the Mall and

look towards the plains of India, stretching away to the
south and melting away in the purple distance ; turn to the
left, and you see the holy Ganges emerge from its rugged
glacier-headed rift in the mighty Himalayas, struggle across
the Dun, burst through the barrier of the fossiliferous
SiwAlik hills at the sacred shrine of HardwAr, and then
commence its long pilgrimage seawards. Just below
Hardwar its right bank is tapped by the huge Ganges
canal, a river in itself, 654 miles long, rejoining the parent
stream at Cawnpore, after giving off 3,078 miles of dis-
tributaries. We distinctly see the canal, and Roorkee, the
head-quarters of the Royal Engineers, with its enormous
workshops on its left bank ; and on a very clear day the
church at Meerut has been recognised with a telescope.
Turning to our right, we see the Jumna, glacier-born like
the Ganges, crossing the Dun, passing through the Siw4.1ik
range, and flowing away Delhi- wards, to join the Ganges at
Allahabad. Let us climb one of the hilltops above the
Mall, and what a sight meets our gaze I Snow-clad peak on
peak and Alp on Alp stretching away, away to the north-
west and .south-east, and lo.st in the shimmering haze of
their own exhalations — all giants varying from 21,000 to
26,000 feet high.

We can now revert to the subject of the paper, bearing
in mind that the Mall is 3,761 feet above the Dun level.
On two occasions I witnessed the following glorious sight
from the Mall. Below me lay a vast expanse of the purest
flocculated cotton wool, entirely obscuring the plain of the
Dun ; above me the pure cerulean. My sky was clear ;
that of the valley was obscured by cumulus. Aware of the
chance that I now had, I looked about for landmarks
whereby to measure the height of the stratum, and caught
a house 900 feet below me, which was first touched by the
woolly expanse, and therefore enveloped in fog. The figures,
therefore, were clear — I was 6,000 feet above the sea level,
and the valley below me was 2,239 feet above the sea, or
3,661 feet below me. But the cumulus stratum was 900
feet below me, and therefore 2,761 feet above the Dun
vallej'.

On another occasion, in the Rains, I was watching the
ever-changing panorama of the Dun, and caught sight of
three thunderstorms slowly passing up the valley from the
south-west, and apparently a mile apart, perhaps two. As
they came abreast of me it was most interesting to watch
the warfare of these storm-clouds. The dark nimbus was
triangular, the apex downwards, shading ofl' into the lines
indicating rain, illuminated now and then by lightning
flashes. The three storms were to me most businesslike in
their movements and actions, and each seemed determined
to assert its own dignity and importance. I watched them
with interest and amu.sement, for while I was in sunshine
and under a cloudless sky, each village over which each
nimbus passed had its " heaven black with clouds and wind
and great rain." The most remarkable foct regarding these
vagrant nimbi was the constant fire of their artillery. One
would have fancied that their electricity would have been
exhausted soon after they left the far south-west, where I
first detected them ; but, on the contrary, they acquired
strength as they went. Were they Leyden jars kept full as
they went by the friction of their own movements ?

Now, about the height of these storm clouds. As before
stated, I was looking at them from an elev.ation of 3,761
feet above the Dun valley, which is bounded to the south
by the Siwalik hills, which rise to a height of 1,.500 to
2,000 feet above the plain. I caught them pas.sing a 1,500
feet peak, and they were below my line of vision, say by
300 feet roughly; then each nimbus would be 1,300 feet
above the Dun, while the cumulo-stratus was 2,761 feet
above the valley. The average elevation of both phenomena

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOVSTLEDGE ♦

269

woiild thus be 2,020 feet, whicli I believe to be correct.
Apropos to cloud scenery. I am .sure that, like myself, you
have often from deck or shore stood entranced at the
glorious and ever-changing piles of cumulus heaped on the
horizon. That grand old sufferer, Job, was asked — " Can
finii understand the spreadings of the clouds? "

Can any one stand on the seashore, or on the deck of a
shi]) at sea, and watch on the horizon tlie piled-up and ever-
changing masses of snowy cumulus cloud, here assuming
grotesque forms, there stretching away into illimitable vistas,
as if forming approaches to " the plains of Heaven," with-
out wondering at the mysterious character of those glorious
dissolving views ? Can any one watch uninterested the
delicate and feathery forms of the cirrhus cloud, which
every moment changes and a.ssumes new beauties, ap-
parentl)' without an etfort ] Can anyone g.Tze unmoved
upon the dark and lowering nimbus as it approaches in
solemn grandeur, its dark recesses lit up by fitful lightning
flashes 1 Can any one watch the awful warfare of struggling
clouds in the cyclone, when the might of Him who makes
the clouds His chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the
wind, is most manifestly displayed in connection with the
utter helplessness of man, and answer this question 1 Can
any one gaze rapturously upon a rising or setting sun,
lighting up the surrounding clouds with glorious eflulgence,
or painting them with tints most gorgeous, and then under-
stand the "spreadings of the clouds"? What would you
not give to witness again the following sight : — " Did you
notice the wonderful atmospheric effects that were visible at
Madras last Thursday 1 (July 18, 1872.) I think I never
saw anything more beautiful, or anything more lifelike.
For an hour or two the city, situated upon a flat plain, was
surrounded by mountains as lofty and scenery as grand as
any that Scotland, or even Switzerland, could boast of. The
city was surrounded by a bank of clouds that formed a
magnificent girdle of mountains — some black and frowning,
others snow-clad, whose

Kooky summits, split and rent,

Formed turret, dome, and battlement

Or seemed fantastically set

With cupola or minaret ;

With crest as paged ever decked,

Or mosque of eastern architect.

Going towards this magnificent pile of cloud-mountains was
like entering a pass ; and, further on, the snow-clad peaks
made me believe myself back in times long gone by, when,
with alpenstock in hand, I crossed the Bernese Oberland,
and looked up with eyes dimmed with delight at the glorious
Jungfrau."

FIRE-WOBSHIP.*

OTWITHSTANDING long pei-secutions,
which have continued over one thousand
years, and only now are beginning to relax,
and permit the Fire- Worshippers of Persia
to worship there unmolested, a small, stead-
fast band has always remained in that land,
preser-\ang the faith of their fathei-s and
their rites and ceremonials unchanged.

In I'ersia they are called Guebres. This is simply a cor-
ruption of the Arabic term Kaffir, which means an heretic,
an unbeliever. In time it has become a word of contumely
and scorn.

Although so few in numbers, yet the Guebres are a most

* From an article by Mr. S. G. W. Benjamin in the Youth's
Companion.

interesting community, for in them we see the old Persian
stock of the days of Cyrus and Xerxes unmixed with any
other race ; while the religion they practise is that whicli
was introduced into Persia, or perfected by the f;\mous
Zoroaster, or Zerduseht, who lived at least twenty-five
centuries ago.

Zoroaster was born in the northern province, called both
then and now Azerbaijan; 'this name means the region of
fire, and it may have been so called because the religion
whose distinctive doctrine is supposed to be the woi-ship of
fire had its origin there. It is only just to state that
intelligent Guebres repudiate this doctrine. They assert that
it is a mistake to call them Fire-Worshippers. They say
that fire is to them not an object of worship, but only a
.symbol of the beneficent Oromasd, or good God, who is
clear and radiant and pure, like the glow of the rising sun
or the flames of fire, and that it is tbi-ough the symbol that
they adore the good Spirit.

This may be true of the more intelligent followers of the
doctrines of Zoroaster; but there is no doubt that the
ignorant classes believe that light and fire are real emana-
tions of God, and worship them as such. Fire is by them
held so sacred th.at they never smoke tobacco, and for that
reason it is not by them considered courteous to use the
weed in the presence of a host or guest who is a Guebre.

In every household of the Guebres fire kindled from the
sacred flame at the new year is kept bm-ning the entire
year. That is the purpose they follow ; but whether they
always succeed in preventing the fire from being extin-
guished is doubtful.

The Guebres have many peculiar doctrines and customs.
One of these is the use of yellow in their garb ; another
concerns the theory of immortality. They maintain that
there are two principles, the good and the evil, which they
call Oromusdao and Ahrimasdao. The ancient Greeks
corrupted these names to Ormusd and Ahriman. These
two principles, or influences, fight for the mastery through
the ages, seeking to win possession of the soul of man.

The new year is called by the Guebres the No Eooz, or
New Day. It comes at the time when the sun crosses the
line in March, Their traditions state that this festival was
ordained by their great legendar}' King Shah lemsheed.
Although most of the Persians are now Mohammedans, yet
they all accept the period for the commencement of the new
year established in their country long ages before the camel-
driver of the desert sent his armies to force them to his
creed ; and thus, at the No Rooz, Guebres and Mussulmen
alike rejoice. The latter pretend that they celebrate the
occasion because it is the birth anniversary of their Prophet,
but this is a mere flimsy excuse, concocted in order to show
their disdain for the Guebres. But in a hundred ways the
Persians show that in their celebration of this annual
festival they are following the traditions of their fire-
worshipping ancestors.

Nowhere is the new year celebrated with more mysticism
and pomp and universal rejoicing than in Persia. For
weeks before it arrives the people begin their preparations
for the occasion. Every one seeks to raise money to purchase
the new suit of clothes he is expected to wear at the time,
and the confectioneiy and pro^nsions for the ten days of
feasting, as during that period the shops are mo.stly closed.
So important is it to be properly pi-epared for the No Eooz,
that articles of price that are family heirlooms are often
sacrificed in order to provide the needed money.

When the new moon of that month appears devout
Persians look to the east, then, covering the face with their
hands, they are slowly turned until, on withdrawing the
hands, the gleaming sickle of the new moon is seen directly
in front. Perhaps our superstition about discovering the

270

♦ KNOW^LEDGE

[October 1, 1887.

new moon over the right shoulder is suggested by this
Persian custom.*

The eve before No Rooz is also the occasion for a curious
ceremony, evidently suggested by the mj'stical meaning the
Guebres attach to fire and light. The common people leap
over heaps of burning brushwood laid in rows. It is
possible the heathenish cu.stom alluded to in Scripture of
" passing children through the- fire " may be a form of this
ceremony.

As the hour approaches for the sun to cross the line, the
Shah assembles in the great audience-chamber of the palace
with the high spiritual and temporal dignifcxries of the
kingdom. Money is distributed to all for good luck on the
commencement of the New Year. At the moment the
astrologers announce the No Rooz, the Shah gravely ex-
claims, " Mambarek hashed ! " — " May it be propitious to
you ! " A sacred song of rejoicing is then sung by a mollah,
or priest; after this each courtier, according to his rank,
offers his obeisance to the Shah, and receives a present from
the royal hand.

THE BLANKET-FISH. t

0 you see that short, thick-set man sitting
on the boat ? " asked a lounger at San
751 t**'! ^1 Pedro ; " well, he is an ex- pearl diver, ex-
A ^^^ ^ smuggler, ex-everything, and can tell some
strange stories of this part of the world."
A little later I was introduced to the
diver, who was a half-breed Mexican.
He laughed when his experiences were referred to, and
replied : " They were nothing. I have left the business,
and have done with it for good or bad. It's a dog's life,
this diving, and I wouldn't go back to it for anything you
could offer. Why 1 Well, I am tired of it, and I was
covered with a blanket-fish on my last trip down, and the
second time means death." . . . "Am I sure ] " And the half-
breed smiled. " Well, I never knew it to fail. There were
Ramoles, Narra, Nalona, all from my fiimily, killed by the
blanket-fish, and everyone had his warning. It is not
necessary to believe it. I do, however. It is not a thing a
man would be likely to forget.

" I have seen a good many of them in my time, but I was
never cornered except once, and that was a year ago, I
was one of the party that went to the pearl grounds in the
Centipede, the boat that was never heard of after her next
cruise. It came my turn to go down, and over I went ; but
as soon as I got down I felt that something was wrongs
that something was going to happen — as soon as I struck
the bottom. I landed among a fine lot of pearl shells, and
had begun to fill my basket, when all at once I noticed a
darkening about me, and looked up. I saw what appeared
to be a blanket slowly settling down over me. I knew I
had a chance ; so I crowded down close to the bottom,
hoping the fish wouldn't see me, and by luck it didn't.
Just as it was ten or twelve feet off something alarmed
it, and it drifted away. I was hauled up more dead than
alive. I judged that the fish was at least thirty feet
across, and if it had settled on me nothing could have
saved me."

" This blanket-fish," said an American later on, " is
notliing more nor less than a big Ray, and these yarns,
though founded on fact, are a good deal overdrawn, though
I am willing to confess that I have been as badly scared as

* Something would depend on the way in wliich the turning was,
from right to left or from left to right,
f From the San Francisco Call.

the Mexican you speak of. It was in this way. Some time
ago I was down the coast on a trip, and one evening I saw
what I supposed to be a shark sailing about near the vessel.
Wishing to have some sport, I put out the small boat, and,
taking two or three men, pulled over to it. As it came by
I put a harpoon into it. The next moment there arose from
the water a Ray that must have been twenty-five feet across
at least. It looked as big as a house, and as soon as it
showed up my men screamed out, ' The blanket-fish 1 ' They
were Mexicans, and half scared to death. A moment later
we were rushing over the water faster than I ever went
before or since. The fish took us up the little bay, then
turned and came down toward the schooner, going like a
steam-engine. We piled up in the stern to keep her from
sinking. Just as we got opposite the schooner the fish
drove right under her, about amidship. Before we could
make a move to cast off, we struck the schooner. To make
a long story short, we found ourselves in the water along-
side. The rope had broken, and the blanket-fish was gone.
The force of the contact had smashed the cutwater of the
boat in pieces.

" The divers have an idea that these fish settle down on
you, as they have a very broad surface and a peculiar undu-
lating motion in the water, using the- side fins like wings.
They are almost as powerful as a large whale, and one
twenty-five feet across could undoubtedly move off with a
large ship. In almost every locality where they are found
stories are told of their carrying off vessels. Several
instances of this have happened in the Gulf of Mexico,
where devil-fish, as they are called there, have run off with
smacks and small fishing vessels dui'ing the night. In one
instance a skipper ' turned in ' at night in a harbour, and
awoke in the morning to find himself out of sight of land ;
a big devil-fish had run foul of the anchor and gone out
of the channel so silently that none of the crew noticed
it!"

Tampa Bay, Fla., is a famous place for these monsters of
the deep, and often schools of a dozen or more are seen
swimming about in circles. These Rays are among the
largest fish known. Two immense fins extend out from
each side, while from the tail projects a long lash-like whip,
capable of doing severe execution. The writer was once
poking a boat over the Florida reefs in the vicinity of Key
West, when a comrade, who had been sitting astride the
cutwater dangling his feet in the water, threw himself
back into the boat with a yell of pain, while a huge black
Ray darting off over the white sand told the story. Both
of his feet were cut almost to the bone. The weapon that
produced the injury was a delicate, whiplike lash, smaller
than a man's little finger.

On still nights in sub-tropical regions the Rays are often
chased by sharks, and leap fi-om the water in thtir attempts
to escape, falling with a tremendous crash. The man-eating
sharks with their thick skins are safe from their attacks,
and often bite out great pieces from the side fins of the
monsters.

At San Pedro and the various watering-places from
San Diego north the Ray family makes itself disagreeably
conspicuous. The smaller ones have a habit of hiding
in the sand and presenting their spines for bathers' feet,
while others are provided with electric batteries, which
not rarely give the fishermen powerful shocks. I have
known a man to be disabled for several days by harpooning
one.

The Chinese monopolise the fishing in these waters, and
ai'e often victims of the practical jokes of the jMexican and
American fishermen. An able-bodied torpedo will be brought
ashore at San Pedro or Monterey, and the whites will
wager a gi-een Chinaman that he cannot lift it. The fish

October 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE ♦

271

appears to weigh about six or eight pounds, and " John,"
after putting up his money, with a laugh at the simplicity
of the " American devils," takes hold with both hands, and
IS stiffened out so quickly, that often he can do nothing but

hold the fish and roar with anguish until he is released.
The shock given by these fishes has been compared to that
of a single Leyden jar, and can be plainly felt by fifty
pei-sons in a circle.

THE ONE-SCALE ATLAS.

MAPVlll.

by Rich** A .IVoctor

MAP /

Tkejirtear^acale mdialfy-is laujornv
Oxrau^hjmX, ; the itwart, scalt is

greater hy VSS Tmlf-way to th£ edoe
*uici hy ^14^ at the edge .

SmaZi areas art greazerty ^is5 * TuU^
yrt^' to the edge , anci hy Yu'^ at.
the edge.

EdM^Wdlex- del

272

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

THE SOUTHERN SKIES.

MAP XII.— Fob SEPTEMBER, OCTOBER, and NOVEMBER.

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The Night Skies in the Southeen Hemispheee (Lat. 46° to 24° S.)

AND the
Southeen Skies in England (Uppbb Half of Map only) at the following Times :

At 1 o'clock, morning, Oct. 7.
„ 12.30 „ „ Oct. 15.

„ Midnight, Oct. 22.

„ 11.30 o'clock, night, Oct. 30.

At 11 o'clock, night, Nov. 7.
„ 10.30 „ „ Nov. 14

„ 10 „ „ Nov. 22

:„ 9.30 „ „ Nov. 3C

At 9 o'clock, night, Dec. 7.

„ 8.30 „ „ Deo. 15.

„ 8 „ „ Deo. 23.

„ 7.30 „ „ Dec. 30.

Firet

Second . .

Stas Maqniiude.s.
* Third . . . . •

B^ourth . . . . +

Fifth

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE

Wo

THE MAN IN THE MOON.

By Stella Occidexs.

" All tbat I have to sa}' is to tell you that the lantern is the moon ;
I, the man in the moon ; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush ; and this
clog, my dog." — Moonshine in "Midsummer Night's Dream."

I [ E myth about the " Man in the Moon " is
of great antiquity : how old we know not.
Probably it dates back far beyond the time
of Moses, for many ancient stories tell of
the man who was punished by death for
gatheiing sticks on the Sabbath (IST timbers
XV. 32-36) ; and though no allusion is made
in the Bible record of this remarkable event to the moon,
yet it was generally supposed long before the days of Moses
that the unfortunate Sabbath-breaker was sent to the moon,
and compelled to stay there for ever thereafter. The story
as it stands in the book of Numbers is, of course, simply
blasphemous, as it attributes the man's death to the actual
command of the Almighty. A well-known German story
tells about the man who cut sticks on the Sabbath, and was
caught up in the moon, fagots and all, and there stands to
this day. Another tale told in Swabia relates about a
manikin who stole wood, and is still to be seen in the moon.
A Dutch household myth accused the man in the moon of
stealing cabbages on Christmas Eve : the neighbours caught
him just as he was walking off with a good supply, and they
" wished " him up in the moon. He stands there to this
day, bearing his load of cabbages. It is said that he turns
round once every Christmas Eve ; but astronomy does not
support the idea. In Sylt, the man in the moon was a
sheep-stealer, and it was his custom to entice the sheep with
a bundle of cabbages. He was placed in the moon, as an
everlasting warning to others.*

In Schaumburg-Lippe, it is said that a man and woman
were sent to the moon ; the man because he prevented people
from going to church on Sunday by strewing brambles and
thorn-bushes in their way, and the woman because she
made butter on a Sunday.f

Northern mythology tells about a giant who inhabits the
moon, and is supposed to cause the ebb and flow of the tide.
When he stoops, the water flows ; and when he stands erect,
the water subsides again.J This somewhat resembles the
Scandinavian myth about Bil and Hjuki, who were taken
up to heaven by Mani. They were on their way to the
well of Byrgir, bearing on their shoulders the bucket Soeg
and the pole Simul. They were placed in the moon, and
are supposed to regulate her waxing and waning § Evi-
dently " Jack and Jill " of our nursery rhymes reproduce
this legend. Grimm says that the water-pole of the heathen
story has been transformed into the axis-shaft, and the pole
into the thorn-bush.

In Hindu mythology- the Moon — Chandra or Some — is a
male deity, represented in one myth as the son of the
patriarch Atri, and in another as arising from the milk-sea,
when it was churned by the gods [j so as to obtain the water
of life. The moon is generally represented as wearing white
garments, holding a mace in one hand, and riding in a
chariot drawn by ten horses and antelopes. The hare is
sacred to him, and the Hindus fancy that they see the out-
line of a hare on the face of the moon.^

* Harleyj " Moon-lore," p. 23.

t Baring-Gould, " Curious Myths of the Middle Ages," p. 192.
j Thorpe, "Northern Mythology," vol. iii. p. 57.
§ Baring-Gould, " Curious Myths of the Middle Ages," p. 200.
II Hence perhaps the theory that the moon is made of green
cheese. — Ed.

^ yotes and Queries, vol. vi. p. 232.

In Africa the man in the moon is supposed to have
incurred the wrath of the sun, and is in punishment carved
by the knife (that is by the rays) of the latter. This con-
tinues until the whole of the moon is cut away, and only a
little piece left. The moon implores the sun to have pity
on him, and leave this morsel for his children. The sun
grants his request, and the moon grows from this little
piece until at last it is a full moon. Then the sun begins
carving again.*

In China the old mau of the moon is known as Yue-lao,
and holds the reins of marriages of mortals in his hands.
The future husband and wife are tied together by an
invisible silken cord, which Ls only severed at death. Harley
remarks, in his funny way, that this must be the man of
the honeymoon.t

A Slavonic legend says that the moon, king of night
and husband of the sun, falls in love with the morning star,
wherefore he was cloven through in punishment, as we see
him in the sky. A Russian story is told about a man who
sought for the isle in which there was no death. He took
up his abode in the moon, but after a hundred years or so
had elapsed Death came after him. A furious struggle
ensued with the Moon, and the latter proving victorious,
the man was caught up in the sky, and now ,'ihines " as a
star near the moon." \ It was not an unusual belief that
the moon was inhabited : some thought her the place where
human spirits either came or went. Others fancied it was
a prison cage, in w^hich, behind bars of light, miserable
sinners were to be exposed to all eternity as a warning to
others. §

Some say the man in the moon is Isaac, bearing a burden
of wood for the sacrifice of himself on Mount Moriah. Others
that he is Cain, carrying a bundle of thorns on his shoulders
in punishment for offering to God the cheapest gift from his
field. II Dante refers to this in the "Inferno," canto xx.,
line 123, where he speaks of " Cain with fork of thorns,"
and again in canto ii. of the " Paradise " he mentions " the
gloomy spots upon this body " (the moon's) " which below
on earth give rise to talk of Cain." The Jews have a story
that Jacob's face is visible in the moon. According to a
French superstition, it is Judas Iscariot, who was trans-
ported there for his treason. Grimm tells us that a reli-
gious superstition is handed down by Berthold, 1-1.5, that
the moon is Mary Magdalene, and the spots are her tears of
repentance.

In Greenland the sun and moon were said to be brother
and sister. Malina was teased by her brother Anninga,
and she ran away from him. He followed her, but she flew
up in the air and became the sun, and her brother, who
could not fly so high, became the moon. He is still
pursuing his sister, hojjing some day to surprise and capture
her. " When he is tired and hungry in his last quarter, he
leaves his house, on a sledge harnessed to four dogs, and
hunts for several days. On his return he eats so much,
that he grows into a full moon."

The Australians believe the moon to be a mischievou.'i
being, who went about the world doing evil. One day he
swallowed the eagle god. The wives of the eagle came up,
and the moon asked them where he could find a well.
They showed him one, and as he stooped over to drink,
they hit him on the head (an idea manifestly plagiarised by
Miss Braddon in " Lady Audley's Secret ") with a tomahawk,
and out flew the eagle.1

* Harley, " Moon-lore," p. 33.

t Ibid. p. 33. .

t Ralston, " Russian Folk-lore," p. 183.

§ Harley, " Moon-lore," p. 18.

II Grimm, " Teutonic Mythology," vol. ii. p. 719.

^ Andrew Lang, " Custom and Myth," p. 54.

274

♦ KNOVVTLEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

The moon was not always supposed to be inhabited by a
man. Thus a Chinese tale represents the moon Jutho as a
beautiful lady, with a double sphere behind her head, and a
rabbit at her feet.

On a gold throne, whose radiating brightness

Dazzles the eye — enhaloing the scene,
Sits a fair form, arrayed in snowy whiteness.

She is Chang-o, the beauteous Fairy Queen.
Rainbow- winged angels softly hover o'er her,

Formintr a canopy above the throne ;
A host o£ fairy beings stand before her.

Each robed in light, and girt with meteor zone.*

In Mangaia, the southernmost island of the Hervey

cluster, the woman in the moon is Ina, the pattern wife,
who eternally weaves beautiful cloth, i.e., white clouds.
Among the Sottth Slavonians the moon is represented in a
Servian song as a beautiful maiden, with " arms of silver
up to the elbows," sitting on a silver throne which floats on
water. A suitor comes to woo her. She avoids him, and
sheds tears of anger, wailing with sorrow. f Every reader
will remember the Hiawatha legend told by Nokomis : —

Once a warrior, very angry.

Seized his grandmother, and threw her

Up into the sky at midnight,

Right against the moon he threw her :

'Tis her body that you see there.

In the story of Iosco, the moon is represented as an aged
woman with a white face and pleasing air, who advanced
from behind a hill to greet them. She talks of the sun as
her brother.:];

In Polynesia a story tells how the moon came down and
picked up a woman and her child during a time of famine.
She was working in the evening twilight, beating out
some bark with which to make native cloth. The moon
was just rising, and reminded her of a great bread
fruit. Looking up to it, she said, " Why cannot you come
down and let my child have a bit of you 1 " The moon,
indignant at the idea of being eaten, came down forthwith
and took her up, child, board, mallet, and all. The people
in Samoa still speak of the woman in the moon. " Yonder
is Sina," they say, " and her child, and her mallet and
board." The same belief exists in the Friendly Islands and
the Tonga group. §

A quaint story, told by the Indians in British Columbia
to Mr. W. Duncan, relates how a child awaking in the
night and feeling thirsty asked its mother for a drink. The
mother not heeding, the moon came down and brought the
child water from heaven. The child drank some, and was
then enticed by the moon to return to her home above.
After passing underground till they were clear of the
village, they ascended to heaven. There they are to h& seen
to this day, and the child still holds the little round basket
which it had in its hand when it went to sleep.]|

A iSTew Zealand myth tells how in old days, before the
moon gave light, a New Zealander named Rona went out in
the night to fetch some water from the well ; but he fell
over something which happened to be in his way, and
sprained his ankle. He cried aloud in his pain, and to his
great horror he saw the moon approaching him. He caught
hold of a tree and clung to it; but it gave way, and fell
with Rona upon the moon. Another version says that
Eona was falling into a well ; he laid hold of a tree, which
gave way, and which was afterwards removed to the moon
with Rona, where he is visible to this day.

* Harley, " Moon-lore," p. G3.

t Ralston, "Russian Folk-lore," p. 183.

X Schoolcraft, " Hiawatha Legends," p. 289.

§ Harley, " Moon-lore," p. .57.

II Jbid. p. 36.

The Selish race of North-west American Indians have a
tradition which Captain Wilson relates as follows : — " The
expression of ' a toad in the moon,' equivalent to our ' man
in the moon,' is explained by a very pretty story, relating
how the little wolf, being desperately in love with the toad,
went a-wooing one night, and prayed that the moon might
shine brightly on his adventure ; his prayer was granted,
and by the clear light of a full moon he was pursuing the
toad, and had nearly caught her, when, as a last chance of
escape, she made a desperate spiiog on to the face of the
moon, where she remMns to this day." The Cowichan
tribes think that the moon has a frog in it.*

A Buddhist legend relates how Sakyamunni was at one
time a hare. Indra, disgui.sing himself as a hungry beggar,
asked for food. The hare offered himself, and as a reward
Indra took him up to heaven and placed him in the moon.
A Sanskrit legend describes the moon as a watcher of the
sky, who sleeps with her eyes open like the hare. The
mythical hare is undoubtedly the moon. In the first story of
the third book of the Pantschatantra, the hares dwell upon
the shore of the moon's lake, and the king has for his palace
the moon itself.t

Among the Hindoos and Egyptians the mouse was sacred
to the moon. De Gubernatis says: — "The Pagan sun-god
crushes under his foot the Mouse of Night. When the
cat's away the mice will play. The shadows of night dance
when the moon is absent." J

AMERICANISMS.

Gerrymaxder. This word has been already discussed in
Knowledge. The term has been used in America since
1811, when during the governorship of Mr. Gerry the
State of Massachusetts was so artificially divided up into
electoral districts, that the Federal votes were massed
together and in large part wasted ; while by bringing into
effective action Democratic votes which before had been lost
in minorities, the Democratic party were enabled to carry
everything before them. It appeared on counting the votes
returned that two-thirds of the State voted Federal, yet
through the artificial distribution of districts, the Democrats
secured an overwhelming majority in the Legislature.
Essex County, strongly Federal, was so peculiarly divided,
that the majj presented a ridiculous appearance. GObert
Stuart, a painter of some distinction, remarked to Mr.
Russell, the editor of the Boston Centinel {sic), that the
map looked like some monstrous animal. Carrying out the
idea he added a few touches, representing a head, wings,
claws, and tail, and being apparently less familiar with
natural history than with art, he suggested laughingly that
the creature thus adorned " would do for a Salamander."
Russell looking at the figure exclaimed, " Salamander 1 call
it a Gerrymander ! " and ever thereafter, in America, the
name of Governor Gerry was associated with that kind of
iniquity, though he was probably innocent of all part in the
process of dividing up the State, " gerrymandering," of
INIassachusetts.

Get. a variety of uses of this word, familiar Ln England
so far back as the memory of man goeth, are included by
Bartlett among Americanisms — as " get out," used to ex-
press incredulity ; to " get one's back up " ; to " get
round " ; " to get the wrong pig by the tail " ; and " got
you there 1 " But

To GET RELIGION is probably purely American. A man

* Harley, •' Moon-lore," p. 69.

t Baring-Gould, " Curious Myths of the Middle Ages," pp. 202,
206.

} Andrew Lang, " Custom and Myth," p. 117.

October 1, 1887.]

KNOWLEDGE -

275

in America " gets religion " when he has lost character.
After thoroughly losing all semblance of decency, he can
start a new character as a penitent, which usually lasts him
long enough to get all he wants. The infamous Colonel
Chartres used to .say that he would give ten thousand pounds
for a good character, because it would be worth twenty
thousand pounds to him. He lived too early. Had he
belonged to these days, and lived out West (for in the Ea.st
and South this ghastly hypocrisy is almost unknown), he
could have done all the renewed swindling he wanted by
simply pretending to have " got religion." There is all the
diflerence in the world, be it noted, between a man getting
religion and religion getting a man.

To GET THE Mitten is used in America where in
England men speak of " getting the sack."

G'hal. Having the Bowery B'hoij American slang was
bound to have also the Bowery G'hal. Where the fun of
these extra aspirations comes in the dull Englishman fails
to see. The B'hoys and G'hals in question are simply Boys
and Gals with aspirations — strongly developed aspirations —
for beer and skittles, candy and chewing gum.

GiMPY. Sprightly. Bartlett remarks that Porljy notices
the adjective " gimp " for neat, spruce, kc, as provincial in
England. Gousidering that it is found in the classic lines
of Burns, " gimp " may be regarded as not wholly unknown
on this side of the Atlantic. But " gimpy," though a natural
dei-ivative, I have not heard in Great Britain or Ireland.

Gin Mill. A drinking place; much, as we shall see
piesently, that a preaching place is a gospel shop. In
England we have " gin palaces."

GiSM. Spirit. Akin probably to the Dutch " geest." It
is strange that men found in old times in the breathing or
spiritus, the breath or anima or pneunia or psyche, the
suggestion of soul or spirit. And yet perhaps it was not
very strange : for the breath seemed to them the " invisible
part of man." The classic languages could find but one
word for the Holy Ghost, for the spirit of a man, and for
his breath. I suppose the mystery of the invisible, yet
manifestly existent lireath of a man, led men to regard it
as the true spirit or soul, seeing that with its departure life
departed also, the soul seeming to pass away to heaven.
What would have been thought of any one who had ex-
plained in tho.se times the real nature of the breath drawn
in and the chemical changes which have taken place ere the
breath is breathed out "l It would have seemed like a
wicked attempt to destroy men's faith in the immortality of
the soul. Yet it is strange to think that " in=breathing "
should have been accepted as ecjuivalent to " inspiration " in
the religious sense, or that men should have found the
suggestion of something holy in an nfflatus, or full breath-
ing. We should find nothing specially suggestive nowadays
in " The Holy Wind " (though that is almost the exact
equivalent of the Greek for " The Holy Ghost," Ilagion
Fneiima) or in " The Sacred Breath," though that corre-
sponds exactly with the Latin for the same (Spiritus
Sanctus). We might as reasonably speak of " Holy Oxygen,"
or " Divine Carbon Dioxide," or " Sacred Sulphuretted
Hydrogen." An American means no more when he speaks
of " knocking the gism " (or gas) " out of .■\ny one " than an
English boy means when he talks of " knocking the wind
out of a fellow."

GiT. This word, which is a veritable Americanism,
Bartlett, of course, utterly fails to imderstand. He says it
is equivalent to "go it," of which it may be a contraction.
This is sheer nonsense. It is simply '• get " mispronounced,
just as it always is mispronounced by the vulgar in
" forget " ; and the only strange thing about the Ameri-
canism "git" is its quaint use alone for "get out." The
average cockney says "git" as uniformly as the average

American cowboy in such expressions as " git up " (generally
addressed by the suave coster to his patient Neddy), " git
along," and so on. But it is only in America, so far as I
know, that any one will say simply "git," as a gentle hint
that a man's room is more desired than his company. The
hint may be given either with the .simple monosyllable
"git "or in the form " you git." It is equally an Ameri-
canism when the nigger pronunciation "git" is changed to
the more civilised "get"; for only in America would
" get " or " you get " be regarded as equivalent to " get you
gone " or " you get out." They tell in the West, with some
natural pride, of a laconic conversation between a miner and
a thief (sometimes a farmer takes the miner's place, and a
horse thief replaces the thief unadorned — but, anyhow, one
man was presumably honest, and the other more or less " on
the cross "). The ostensibly honest man sees the thief
trying to make his way in to rob, and, holding a revolver at
his head, remarks, " You get," receiving for reply, as the
thief recognises the position, the anti-rhythmic response,
" You bet."

GiT UP AND Git. This is a development of the simple
" git," somewhat as our English " he's gone and done it " is
a development of " he has done it," and as the nigger " he's
done gone done it " is a development of that. These re-
dundancies and reduplications characterise the speech of the
uncultured, even as among the early Greeks " tetupha " and
" tetummai " established themselves as the expressions of
very definitely past actions. We might interpret " git uj)
and git" to mean simply " arise and go," were it not applied
constantly to cases where no arising is called for or possible.
In the South the expression " git up and dust" is often
heard. Here " dust " is short for " make the dust fly," and
suggests an even more rapid exit than the simple " git."

To GlT TO do anything is a niggerism for " getting
leave." Bartlett, oddly enough, goes through numbers of
examples of the u.se of " git " which are obviously simple
mispronunciations of " get," yet sees no occasion to correct
his preposterous explanation of "git" as a contraction for
" go it." One might as reasonably imagine that our cockney
" forgit " is contracted from " forego it."

Given Name. As sometimes in Scotland, the expression
" Christian name " is commonly replaced in America by
" given name." The expression is Puritan in origin ; and
may probably be traced back to the time when the Christian
name was always a saint's name, and superstition had
associated each such name with the special influence of the
patron saint. Among the Puritans in times before America
was colonised, a feeling of dislike, amounting to hatred, had
sprung up against such superstitions, as the names in com-
mon use among the early Puritans attest. They were "given
names." Some of them must have been unpleasant gifts.

To Give out, to become exhausted. " Yet did not that
widow's cruse give out," a Western preacher would say,
meaning that the cruse did not fail.

Givv. Yielding; ready to "give," in the sense of
bending easily.

Glades. The word " glade " of course is English, signi-
fying, when projjerly used, a bright open place in a forest,
where all around is more or less in shadow. In the Southern
States this term has come to be applied — quite wrongly at
first, though now custom justifies the u.sage — to grassy
tracts covered with water, glades proper being distinguished
as "dry glades." The word is akin to "glad," "glow,"
&c. The wet glades are far fiom being gladsome places.

G'lang. If clipping good English makes an Americanism,
G'lang may be regarded as American for " Go along."
Haliburton has somehow associated the contraction with
the emphatically Transatlantic address of Sam Slick to his
horse, " G'lang, ye skunk, and turn yer toes out pritty."

276

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[October 1, 1887.

Go. Making a go of anything, is succeeding in it.
Probably the usage is derived from the old-fashioned way of
starting a race with the word " go," pronounced so soon as
the starter sees that the contestants are on equal terms. A
false start is no yo. In England, oddly enough, we have
the negative form of this usage, while we seldom hear the
positive form, except provincially. An Englishman will
say, " It's no go," who would scarcely think of saying
" It's a go."

"Go GOOD," for taste good may be regarded as not less
English than American.

" Go A CKUISE," used for " take a walk or ride," is
nautical English, and probably as much used in English
maritime counties as in New England, where, indeed, it
is almost limited to .seaside places.

Go AHEAD. Although in its verbal sense this is a good
old English expression, it is claimed as specially charac-
teristic of Americans to go ahead, and used adjectively go
ahead may be regarded as distinctively American. It is
perhaps characteristic of the three great divisions of EnglLsh-
speaking races that our favourite expression in the old
country is " All right," while the favourite American ex-
pression is " Go ahead," and in Australasia men say " No
fear." This triple set of sayings is better than the French
aspiration (rather more than satisfied now perhaps) for la
gloire, or the a;eneral submLssion of Continental nations to
military discipline. We English-.speaking races find fault
with each other, forgetting our kinship ; we laud this,
that, and the other distinction, often mere tinselling, of
other races ; but where now, or in the past of the world,
has any race, regarded collectively, made a deeper mark in
the history of the world ? What other race, or set of races,
has ever so definitely acted on the triple principle, or has so
thoroughly justified it — See that all is right, then go
ahead, and fear not. Despite the savagery shown too often
by British Buncombe, by American spread-eagleism, and by
Australian assertion of " Australia for the Australians,"
the English-speaking races have alwaj'S shown (on the whole)
the sense of duty expressed in our British " All right," the
aspiration for progress exjjressed in the American " Go
ahead," and the confident but unboasting courage expressed
by the Australasian " No fear."

To Go BACK ON. This peculiar expression for turning
against, or forsaking any one, must surely be an A mericanism.
I have never heard it in any part of Great Britain, nor have
I ever met with any one who had. Even in America the
expression is not general. It is Western, or ratlier, had its
origin in the West. Every English reader remembers the
humorously pictured pei-plexity of the clergyman from the
East, when told that the defunct miner " Never went back
on his mother." I imagine, but without a particle of
authority for the supposition, that the expression was first
used by teamsters, and was suggested by the going back of
a waggon on a steep slope unless blocked. Such experiences
must have been common in the old waggoning times out
West, in the mining region of the Rocky Mountains.
Virgil evidently had some such idea in his well-known
description of the oarsman pulling against stream. He says
he has seen things go back on the labourer —
. . . retro stcblapsa referri ;
Non aliter quam qui adverse vix flumine lembum
Remigiis subigit, si brachia forte remisit,
Atque ilium in praeceps prono rapit alveus amni.

Photographs of the sun were taken at Greenwich Observatory
on 199 days during 1886, while photographs from India filled in the
gaps for 161 days, so that the record of observations is complete for
all but two days. The area of sun-spots and faculje has continued to
decline during 1886 and 1887. There were si.xty-ono days in 1886,
and from October to April 17 last, seventy-three days on which no
spots appeared.

STRANGE CHANCES.

^HE question of the occurrence of unusual
events, such as that considered in the
article, " A Perfect Innings at Cricket,"
last month, when only a sufficient number
of trials is allowed, leads to some of the
commonest difficulties in regard to matters
of chance. Indeed, one may say that the
very elect are apt to be deceived in such matters — meaning
here by the very elect, mathematicians themselves.

It is noteworthy, indeed, that problems in chance are very
apt to deceive mathematicians whose researches have lain in
other directions. A well-known example of this is the case
of d'Alembert, when the very simple problem was pro-
pounded to him. What is the chance of tossing heads once
at least in two trials? He replied, and not hastily, but
after careful study of the matter, " Two in three, or the odds
are two to one in favour of success." In reality, the chance
is three in four, or the odds are three to one in favour
of tossing one head at least. Yet d'Alembert's reasonmg
seems at first sound, and was long held by him to be un-
answerable : — There are three possible events, viz., both
tossings may give head, or both may give tail, or one may
be of one sort, the other of the other ; of these three events
only one is unfavourable ; since, then, two out of three
events are favourable and one not, the chances of success
are two out of three, and the odds in favour of success are two
to one. The error lies in omitting to notice that one of the
thi-ee events is twice as likely as either of the other two ;
for while we can only get two heads in one way, and two
tails in one way, we can get a head and a tail in two ways ;
viz., first tossing head, second tail, or first tossing tail,
second head. There are, in fact, four possible events, viz.,
head, head ; head, tail ; tail, head ; and taU, tail : and
these four are equally likely. Wherefore, since only one is
unfavourable, the chances are three in four for success, or
the odds against failure are three to one.

The words italicised are those which in every such dis-
cussion of a chance problem must always be represented ;
that is, the question of the probability of the different kinds
of result must always be considered as well as their mere
number.

But this problem of d'Alembert's might be treated like
our cricket problem ; and for my own part I prefer always
that more general way of treating such problems. Thus the
real question is. What is the chance that " tail " will be
tossed at both trials 1 Now the chance at each trial is
clearly one-half, hence the chance that both trials will give
a " tail " is a half multiplied by a half, or one quarter ; that
is, one in four, or the odds are three to one against this
happening.

If we dealt in this way with the probability of tossing
head once at least in twenty trials, we should find it to be
1,048,575 out of 1,048,576, or the odds against tossing
always tails (or always heads) in twenty trials are
1,048,575 to 1.

But it is in watching, or thinking about, a great number
of trials, that errors are most commonly made. The laws of
probability a.ssure us that if a thousand millions of trials
were made, there would be nearly a thousand cases in which
" heads " would be tossed twenty times in succession — each
trial being independent, so that as soon as a " tail " appeared
the trial would be concluded, and a fresh one have to be
begun. And further, the laws of probabilitj' assure us
that, although on the average there would be only one such
marvellous run of heads in 1,048,576 trials, yet the chance
of tossing twenty heads in 1,048,576 trials would be more
than one-half, or the odds would be in favour of such an

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^LEDGE ♦

277

event. (About three-quarters of a million of trials would
give an even chance.) But if an experiment is commenced,
and after long and wearisome series of trials — say, few
thousand — no such series should appear, as is exceedingly
likely, then the experimenter would argue that, since by the
laws of probability the unsuccessful trials already made can
have no eflPect on the results of future trials, we are no
nearer success than at the beginning. Another series of
10,000 trials might be carried out with similar want of
success, and another, and yet another — a hundred such
trials taking us to a million : if all these were similarly un-
successful, and there is no reason why they should not be,
we should be as far from success as at the beginning. Going
on in that way would be useless — it would seem — or, in
other words, the laws of probability have in this case mis-
led us.

The fallacy of all this lies in the assumption that that
which is likely is sure to come off. If we fail in 10,000
trials we may equally fail in the next, and the next, and so
on. But inasmuch as we have about one chance in 100
of succeeding in 10,r00 trials, whereas at each trial we have
but about one chance in a million, we must not treat a
chance of the former sort as if it were no greater than a
chance of the latter. And to bring the matter down to the
test of manageable experiment — it is almo.st certain that in
10,000 trials there will occur one case at least of thirteen
successive " heads " — this has been tried, apart from the
numerical considerations which show it to be certain.

Imagine, then, 80 trials of this kind, giving almost cer-
tainly about SO runs of 13 heads (for if some gave none,
these failures would be made up for by others which gave
two or more such runs). Here, then, are 80 cases of
13 heads in succession to which we may limit our attention,
for no shorter runs can have any bearing on our attempt to
get 20 successive heads. We may regard the continuance
of these 80 trials — to see how many more heads there may
be — as if they were fresh trials. Now it would not be
thought a very wonderful thing if in 80 trials we obtained
a run of seven heads, which with the thirteen already given
would be the 20 heads required. Hence this reasonmg
based on actual experiment shows thit in 800,000 trials
there is a good chance of tossing 20 heads in succession,
wonderful though such a series may be, and incredible
though it might seem during actual experiment on so
wearisome a scale that any good could result from going .
on with the tossLngs.

It must be remembered in all such cases that success may
come off at the first trial, and is quite as likely to come off
at that trial as at any other. It is this circumstance which
causes the answer to the famous Petersburg problem to be
so seemingly monstrovis : — How much should be paid, asks
that problem, for the privilege of tossing a coin and receiv-
ing -L, Al., 81., 161., or so on, always doubling, according fus
you fail to toss head at the first, second, third, fourth, &c.,
trial. The true answer is that no sum, however large, will
fairly represent the price you should pay. You have but
one trial, just as in a lottery you may have but one ticket ;
but the number of prizes is infinite, and you mat/ draw one
of the biggest in your one trial. According to the laws of
fair lotteries, you must pay for your chance of getting each
ticket. Thus you must pay '21. for the chance — equal to
certaint}' — of getting the smallest prize at least ; you must
pay half of il., or '21., for your chance (one-half) of getting
the il. prize ; you must pay one-quarter of 8/., or, again,
2/., for your chance (one-quarter) of getting the 8/. prize ;
and so on, always the same sum of 21., for your chance of
getting the 16Z. prize, the 32^. prize, the 64/., l'2Sl., and so
on for ever. Hence you ought to pay, if you should have
such wealth, an infinite number of sums of '21. This sounds

like nonsense, because if you have unlimited wealth it would
be far better to keep it. Yet the answer is right, regarded
merely in its numerical aspect ; for the sums you have the
chance of winning are enormously greater, one may say
infinitely greater, than the sum you are risking, let it be
what it may.

The lesson really taught by the Petersbui-g problem is the
folly of the gambler's notion that his chance of winning a
stake represents its actual value to him. We see at once
that a man must be an idiot wiio would pay, say, 10,000?.
for a chance in such a lottery as is described above, though
the actual value of his chance is very much greater. But a
man of the gambling type does not hesitate for a moment
to regard a ticket out of 200,000, where the prize is
200,000/., as worth not only II., its mathematical value, but
much more — he will gladly pay three or four pounds for
such a ticket, which, regarded as property, is worth much
less even than the \l. which represents its due proportion of
the great prize.

The readiness, too, with which many will buy tickets in a
lottery, and their unwillingness to buy a chance in any such
venture as the Petersburg problem, shows how little men
realise the meaning of large numbers. A gambler begins to
see what he is doing when tossing is in progress, the first
"tail" (let us suppose) to limit the amount of his prize.
But when he hears of a scheme like the Louisiana Lottery,
in which there are a hundred thousand tickets, he buys his
ticket with the vaguest idea as to what such a number
really represents. If it could be pictured to him in a suit-
able diagi'am, or if he could be shown a heap of grain in
number equal to the number of tickets, and recognised one
only among all these as representing his chance, he would
probably think twice before investing his money on so pre-
carious a venture. But as matters are, a certain air of
mystery hangs over the event : something occult seems in-
volved ; in such sort that superstition comes in to suggest
that by noting omens or dreams, or by venturing on some
specially selected number, he will have a better chance of
winning than that mere 100,000th, or one- thousandth, or
whatever it may be, which the laws of probability assign to
him.

There are other points in regard to which the ways of the
gambling community are interesting, not to say amusing
and unreasonable. The regular gambling fraternity, those
who make a business of it, are apt to express contempt for
the way in which the verdant gamblers whom they despoil
aim always at getting a great prize for a small risk — as in
buying a lottery ticket, backing the favourite, and so forth.
The}' themselves, however, are quite as unwise in their
systematic gambling, and would lose in the long run quite
as much if they limited all their ventures to fair ones. One
can lose a fortune, for example, quite as readily by always
laying the odds as by always taking them, if the true odds
are equally followed. It is only because laying the odds
gives the bookmaker a better opportunity to bet on unfair
terms that in the long run he always comes off best, while, in
the long run, the backers of favourites are brought invariably
to ruin. But the bookmaker falls into the mistake of sup-
posing that in the system of laying odds against events more
or less unlikely to happen — and generally even the favourite
horse in a race is more likely to be beaten than to win,
though more likely to win than any other individual horse
in the race — there is safety, and not only safety, but the
assurance of success and wealth in the long run.

It is for this reason, probably, that while we find the
inexperienced pigeon seeking always some such way to wealth
as the purchase of a lucky ticket in some great lottery, or
backing hor.ses at long odds and winning, the more prac-
tised gambler of the rook species is the victim of a delusion

278

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

opposite in character, but as fatal in its effects, unless
corrected by devices not depending on chance — faith in
gambling systems, or what are sometimes called martin-
gales.

These systems, some of which I have described eUewhere,
are singularly illusory. To study their working, not only
as given in detail by a believer, but as carried out again
and again in practice, they seem practically peifect. In
every case, the plan is guided by the gambler's actual loss
and gain ; when he has lost he wager-s somewhat more at the
nest turn than before his loss ; when he has gained he wagers
somewhat less, the actual diflerence depending on the par-
ticular system employed. But always after continuing the
system long enough, it results, unless there is an improbable
run of bad luck, that the losses are all cleared off, and a
certain sum, the same in every trial, is secured. It can be
shown, not only vaguely as by the believer in the system,
but by mathematical demonstiation, that the chances are
greatly against failure to secure this definite sum, in any
given trial of the system. Theoretically, indeed, if the
gambler's pocket is but long enough, and the limit put by
the bank on stakes is high enough, the process is certain to
end in the gambler pocketing his 10/. or 20/., or whatever
the amount he assigns at the outset for each trial, may be.
So he may go on winning twenty, thirty, forty, perhaps a
hundred times in succession, to the envy of all those who
are not acquainted with the plan on which the system is
worked. He may improve the system until he might get a
thousand successes for one failure. Thus faith grows in such
a system until the gambler assures himself that he has the
secret of securing unlimited wealth. Yet, all the while,
every step of his career is towards ruin.

Tlie tiouble lies here :

The surer the method of the system the smaller is the
sum made at such small risk as remains on each trial. This
circumstance is disguised by the fact that the risk ari.ses not
only in each trial regarded as a whole, but in the progress of
each trial. For instance, the trial having begun and gone
unfavourably for several steps — which is always likely
enough — the ri.sk that a fatal run of luck will occur before
the losses are wiped off is now very much greater than it
was at the beginning of that trial. Or if, after all has gone
well at first, a run of bad luck comes, then, though the
player is no worse off as to risk than at the outset, he has
lost all the benefit of the run of favourable luck, and is
situated as if starting on a fresh trial. The gambler blinds
himself to this, though every stake his system calls on him
to deposit should remind ham of it ; but in reality this is
where tlie danger chiefly lies. For the rest, it is easy to see
that the high probability there always is of winning at
any given trial affords no assurance against loss. If a man
A says to another, B, you shall draw again and again from
this urn, in which — as you can see and count — there are
one thousand balls all white except one, which is black,
replacing the drawn ball after each trial, and every time you
draw a white ball you shall pay me 1/., while every time
you draw the black one I will pay you 1,000/., A would be
most likely to have a long series of successes before he had
to pay 1,000/. Yet in the long run A would not be likely
to gain by such a venture, and he might lose very heavily.
If he agreed to take only ISs. from B at each drawing of a
white ball — which would conespond with the po.sition of a
gambler working out a system at a public gaming-table— he
would be sure to come off second best, if he only continued
long enough.

And that is actually the way with all such systems. They
are pretty sure to work successfully many times before there
comes the run of luck on which they fail ; but that run is
quite sure to come long before the gambler has made as

much by the system as will repay him for his time, trouble,
and worry ; and each failure will, on the average, sweep oft'
more than the previous successes have secured in the way of
gain.

THE NATURALIST'S LABORATORY.

CONTRIBUTION VIII.

LABOEiTOEY EeQUISITES.

|HERE are many things which add very
materially to the comfort of the student,
and convenience in the prosecution of his
studies, that have never been discussed
in any systematic treatises, but are never-
theless of the first importance, since they
usually draw the line between slovenly
and neat work in the laboratory.

Preserving and Afacerathu/ Paiis. — It is well known that
the dissecting-rooms of most of our universities and colleges
are remarkable for then- pestiferous atmosphere. Where
human anatomy, or the structure of animals much over the
size of a rabbit or cat is taught, this undesirable state of
things can be minimised by careful previous treatment of
the "bodies'' and " parts " in question; but it cannot be
wholly subdued without enormous expenditure and unneces-
sary labour. In ordinary biological laboratories and in
private rooms however, anything of the kind above alluded
to ought not to be tolerated, especially as nothing much
larger than a cuttlefish or a cat need be dissected ; and most
of the large firms of potters, such as Doulton & Co., of
Lambeth, and others, manufacture glazed earthenware pans,
with suitable, closely- fitting covers, of various shapes and
sizes, for manifold uses in the household and kitchen — e.g.,
ham pans, rinsing red pans, itc. The animal under operation
should be wrapped in a calico cloth well wetted with strong
methylated spii'it, and then immersed or partially submerged
in diluted spirit in the pan, during the intervals between
work. Where no suitable cover is provided with the pan a
piece of window glass cut approximately to its shape may
be used, and total exclusion of air, for even a protracted
period of time may further be secured by a liberal use of
hog's lard, after the fashion of a cement. Twenty such vats
in a private room cannot, under such circumstances, po'lute
its atmosphere, or prove otherwise offensive. Similar vats
without covers are decidedly preferable to wooden tubs for
macerating work, which, it need scarcely be remarked,
ought always to be conducted out of doors, or rather, in a
special outhouse or shed.

Tlie Dissecting Dish, as its name implies, is useful for
animals of small size only, such as earthworms, snails, frogs,
(fee. Although an ordinary pie-dish can, and has, largely
been used for this purpose, it is unquestionably a very im-
perfect article. Let us take, for example, a frog : to learn
its anatomy thoroughly, several days of work should be
spent upon its dissection. The dish should be filled to the
depth of about an inch and a half with a suitable mixture
of paraffin wax and hog's lard melted together at a low tem-
perature, and jioured, whilst still fluid, but on the verge of
becoming solid, into the dish ; this will prevent any marked
after- shrinkage. The animal should next be fastened upon
the paraffin when solid, w-ith pins, and covered, or partially
covered with dilute spirit. After a day or two, when some
critical portion is about to be examined, the student often
finds, to his chagrin, that the liquid around his dissection
has insinuated itself between the sides of the dish and the
edges of the paraffin bed, by an almost imperceptible
shrinkage of the latter, sufficient, however, to render it so

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNO^A^I.EDGE ♦

279

unsteady as to preclude the possibility of work, except with
the utmost difficulty. To obviate any such mishaps the
author has devised a dish, shown in section at fig. 1. It
may be oval or oblong (preferably the latter) in shape ; its

Fig. 1. — DissECTiNC Dish.
0. Cover ; d. bocly of dish ; j). bed of paraffin. {SrcHoiial Biaijram.)

sides slope upwards and inwards, and thus effectually
prevent tlie bed of paraffin from shifting or floating during
the di.ssection. The upper rim of the disli should be
indented, so as to admit of a cover which will not easily slip
off. Both dish and cover may be made of earthenware, of
indurated wood, or the new paper-bottle material invented
by Mr. H. L. Thomas, of Chicago, and now being intro-
duced into this country by Messrs. Tulk & Co., of Walbrook.
Museum Bottles. — One of the gi-eatest difficulties expe-
rienced by museum curators has hitherto been in the
display, to the fullest advantage; of preparations in spirit.
However carefully these are put up, the time arrives,
sooner or later, when it is found neces.^ary to readjust the
object or to renew the spirit, either on account of evaporative
deterioration or discoloration of the fluid. The bottles
are necessarily expensive, and those of large sizes usually
have to be made specially to order — of such, those with

Fig. 2.— Patent LoCK-.STurrEE, suitable for Museum Bottles.

evenly ground tops, over which are fastened circular discs of
glass, by means of a more or less spirit-proof, colourless
cement, are mostly in vogue, and there certainly is an
advantage in the clear transparent top, which admits light,
and thus shows every part of the structure displayed to the
best advantage ; yet the drawbacks are considerable, e.g.,
the cases in which they are placed may, and often do,
overshadow the transparent tops, which are. moreover,
liable at all times to become detached, or, on the con-
trary, are found inseparably fastened, when it is ex-
tremely desirable to gain access to the preparation.
All these objections hive been overcome by the inven-
tion of the " Patent Look-Stopper," now being manu-
factured on an extensive scale by a Limited Company,
whose headquarters are at 57 Moorgate Street, London, E.G.
The stopper has never yet been applied to the purpose above
mentioned, but is chiefly used for chemicals, pickles, pre-
serves, condiments, ikc. It consists of a metallic cap, upon

the upper surface of which (see fig. 2) there are two nearly
semi-circumferential inclined ridges. A. metallic bar, with
downwardly projecting catches, which slide into the grooved
neck of the bottle, is fastened to the centre of the upper surface
of the stopper by a pin or axis, upon which it can rotate
horizontally ; so that when the stopper is made to slide
side- wise upon the neck of the bottle, and the bar is turned
round so as to pass up the ridges, on the edges of the
upper surface, as shown in fig. 2, the stopper becomes very
firmly attached to the bottle. The under surface is pro-
vided with a yielding pad of material which is spii-it, acid,
and oil-proof, and when properly adjusted makes a perfectly
air-tight; joint. To remove the stopper at any time, bold
the bar as shown in the engraving, turn it down the incline,
and slide the stopper off; to replaca it, hold the bar, as in
the figure, slip both ends into the groove round the neck
of the bottle, slide the stopper into its place, and screw the
bar up tightly. Specially-made bottles of any size can be
provided with stoppers such as that de.scribed above, at
a cost not much in excess of that charged for common
corks.

The next contribution will conclude the subject of labo-
ratory requisites, and pass on to a consideration of instru-
ments and their uses.

VARYING ASPECTS OF THE EARTH'S
GLOBE.

T is often convenient in astronomical study to
consider the apparent aspects of the latitudo-
jiarallels and meridians of a globe such as
PeP'e' (fig. 1), rotating about an axis aO((', to
whicli the polar axis, POP', is inclined. Sup-
pose the rotation such as (at the commence-
ment of rotation) to bring P towanls the
observer, from its position as shown on the edge of the
globe — the observer's distance being supposed very great
compared with the dimensions of the globe.

Let us first consider certain properties which will aid
in the consideration of these effects, and then exhibit an
illustration of the method of construction by which the
meridians and parallels of the globe after any given rotation
around aOa' m.ay be laid down.

First, every point on the ylobe PeP'e' or within it de-
scribes in reality a circle around the axis aOa', in a plane at
right angles to that axis. Seen, therefore, from a distant
point of view so placed that the line of sight to 0 is at
right angles to the circle P eP'e', any point on or within the
globe (supposed for the moment to be transparent) will
appear to travel backwards and forwards in a line parallel
to t O t', moving from right to left in the nearer half of its
course, and from left to right in the farther part.

Secondly, the rate at which such a point would appear to
move in difl'erent parts of its line is very easily deter-
mined. Take, as an instance, the point P, and draw
Pojj at right angles to a«'. Then the line Pop is that
along which the point P would appear to move back-
wards and forwards. But we know that in reality the
point P is describing a circle, of which P o p is the projected
view. Suppose this circle opened out by being rotated
about the diameter Pp — into the cucle PRpR'. Then, if
the i)oints 1, 2, 3, i, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 are equi-
distant points around the circumference of PRpR', it is
quite clear that the uniform rotation around aOa' will
bring the point P to the apparent position, q, r, o, s, u, p,
u, s, o, r, q, P (obtained by drawing the lines 1 — 11, 2 — 10,
3 — 9, ifec), after successive equal intervals of time. We

280

♦ KNOWLBDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

have precisely the same construction for any point whatever,
either on or within the globe. The point n, for instance,
moves to n' and back to n, at a rate exactly proportional
to that at which P moves to p and back to P.

Thirdly, every line through aOa' describes a double cone
about aOa'. The figure of this double cone for the line
POP' is shown ; and it is clear that not only would it be as
easy to show the cone for any other line through O, but also
for a line through any other point in aOa'. For instance,
the IhiP. cc', which crosses aOa' at a point near R', describes
a double cone, of which this point is the vertex, and of
which the upper is the lesser portion. The line a a' de-
scribes a simple cone of which a is the vertex. Finite lines
which irould have to he produced to meet aOa' produced,
describe only frusta of cones ; but, mathematically speak-
ing, we say that every line through any point of the line of
which aOa' is a part, describes a double cone around this
line as axis.

Fourthly, bb', aa', cc', tt', etc., represent circles around
the axis POP', that is, they represent latitude-parallels.

having this line for major axis, and touching the Hues e e
and e'e', the outline of the equator is determined to be
that shown in fig. 2. In this case E e'E', fig. 2, is the
nearer part of the ellipse, the lighter half of the ellipse
lying on the farther half of the globe, supposed for the
moment to be transparent : but if we had supposed the
rotation to have been through an angle PolO (not the acute
angle, but the angle measured by the arc PPiplO), we should
have obtained the same shape and position for our ellipse,
only the lighter part would have been on the nearer half,
and Ee'E' on the further half.

The case of a latitude-parallel is just as easily examined.
Take the parallel c n c', for instance. When P is at r, n, the
centre of the parallel, is at n, and a line through n at right
angles to rr', equal in length to the line cc', and bisected at
n, is the major axis of the ellipse representing the latitude-
parallel cc'. Further, c will be the point farthest from, and
c' the point nearest to the plane tOt', throughout the rotation
we are considering ; and the ellipse will therefore always touch
the lines cc, c'c', figs. 1 and 2. If, therefore, in fig. 2 we

t

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Fig. 1.

Let us examine into the apparent shape of the ellipses
into which these circles are projected as the rotation
we are considering goes on. Take first the equator,
represented by e O e'. The points e and e' are those
farthest from the plane 1 0 1', and it is obvious that they
will remain so throughout the rotation. Therefore if the
lines e e, e'e' are drawn parallel to t O t', the ellipse
representing the equator must always touch these two lines.
Further, since it is easy to find the positions assumed by the
points e and e' (by following the plan already described for
P) for a given amount of rotation, we immediately find the
points at which the ellipse touches the lines e e and e'e'. It
is also obvious that the greater axis of the ellipse cannot but
be at right angles to the polar axis of the globe, and we
have seen how the position of this axis is determined.
Suppose, for instance, that the rotation around aOa' has
taken place through an angle equal to the angle Po 2, then
the north pole has come to r, and the south pole to r',
therefore r 0 r' is the position of the polar axis. If, then,
in fig. 2 we draw POP' in this position, the line EOE' at
right angles to POP' is the major axis of the ellipse repre-
senting the equator. And as it is easy to draw an ellipse

Fig. 2.

take n, determined by drawing mxn parallel to 00, to meet
PP', fig. 2, and take CC in fig. 2 equal to cc' in fig. 1, at
right angles to PP' and bisected in n, an ellipse, Cc'C,
having C'C as gi-eater axis and touching the lines c c, c'c',
represents the latitude-parallel required.* The part Cc'C is
the nearer, and it is clear that more than one-half of the
parallel lies on the hemisphere turned towai-ds the observer.
In this way every latitude-parallel is determined. The
parallel a a' presents a peculiarity worthy of notice. Since
this parallel has upon it a point, a, which is the ujjpermost
point of the globe, and since this point cannot but remain
uppermost throughout the motion, the ellipse representing
this parallel always appears to touch the outline of the
globe's disc in the point a.

* It is easily seen that the points of contact of all the ellipses
with their corresponding pairs of parallels lie on the ellipse a t'a t
(fig. 2) ; since these points of contact, originally lying on the circle
to ae'a'e, must be brought by the rotation of this circle around aOa'
lie on an ellipse having aOa' as axis, and passing through the points
P and P'. Also it is obvious that the minor axis tOt' of the ellipse
a Ma t is easily determined by taking the angle a02, equal to the
angle Ro2 (lig. 1), and drawing 2 1' parallel to PP'.

October 1, 1887.]

KNOV/LEDGE ♦

281

I proceed to give a brief description of the geometrical
processes involved in tlie construction of the figures of
plates i. to xiii. of my " Seasons Pictured," conceiving that
these processes may have an interest for the mathematical
reader.

Describe a circle, a.¥a' (fig. 3), to represent the outline of
the disc, and take the angle aOP, equal to the obliquity of
the ecliptic (or nearly 23° 30). Draw Po at right angles to
aO, and describe the arc PL with centre o and radius oP.
On this arc take the angle PoL, equal to the angle described
by the earth around the sun from the vernal equinox, at the
moment considered. (For instance, for the live sun-views
one month after the equinox in my " Seasons Pictured " the
angle would be 30° ; for those one month before the
Midsummer solstice the angle would be 60° ; and so on.)
Then LP, drawn at right angles to oP, gives 1' the pole of
the earth. Thus I'Op' is the polar axis, and W)E' at right
angles to POP' is the m;ijor axis of the ellipse which will
represent the equator. The half- minor axis Oe is equal to
LP*

To describe an ellipse, having given axes, is a very simple

points ci and €>, on the ellipse representing the equator,
and also on the longitude-circles we require.

To determine the ellipse corresponding to another parallel
originally appearing .as the line cnc', a very similar method
is available. The line nn parallel to Po gives the point ii
on OP, which is the centre of the ellipse we require ; (!»C',
equal in length to cc', and at right angles to (and bisected
by) PP', is the major axis ; and since it is clear that this
parallel, being (as its name implies) parallel to the eciuator,
must be opened to exactly the same proportinnal extent, we get
the half-minor axis hk by drawing the line CV- parallel to Et.
Describe circles of which CG and Ik are quadrants, and divide
the quadrant C(J into three equal parts in 1, 2, as in the
former case ; then, the lines nil, n 2 2, being drawn, the
lines through 11 and 22 parallel to the axes give the points
K,, Ko, on the ellipse and also on the longitude-circles we
require. The quarter-ellip.ses Ck, Ee, and the arcs K,f,yi,
K„e.ryi, of the two ellipses representing the longitude-circles
we require, may now be drawn in : and by carrying on this
process for other latitude-parallels and longitude circles we
get the complete sets of lines shown in the figures of my

Fia. :i

matter. Since it is necessar}', for our purposes, that we
should have lonr/itvde-chxles as well as latilude-parallels,
the following metho<l, which gives points of both curves at
once — that is to say, gives the points where the longitude-
circles and latitude-parallels we wish to draw, intersect —
is the most convenient : —

A circle, of which cM is a quadrant, is de.scribed round 0
as centre with radius equal to PL. The quadrant Eji;' is
divided into three equal parts in e, and Cj ; and lines are
drawn from O to these points, meeting the quadrant «M in
/, and/j. Then lines «|«|, e.^e.,, parallel to PP', and lines
/,£,, /o€2, parallel to EE', give by their intersection the

* This is easily shown ; for the globe may be supposed to have
assumed its present position (with PO'/" for polar axis) by having
been rotated about EOE' in such a manner that P moved along the
arc pP (the foreshortened view of an arc equal to ^D' or pH obtained
by drawing DPD' at right angles to OP). By this motion the
equator, originally seen as a line EOE', would open out into the
ellipse EeE', and, since the arc Oe would necessarily be the same as
the arc ^^D, tlie line Of %vould clearly be equal to PD. But PD is
equal to PL, since (by Euc. III., .S) the square of either of these
lines is equal to the rectangle pP.PP.

Fio. t.

" Seasons Pictured." The quarter-ellipses cE' and kC, the
portion of .an ellipse Ik I' beyond C and C, and K^yj, K.y,,
parts of longitude-circles crossing these, are added to show
the relation of that part of the construction which has been
gone through to the complete figure. It will be gathered
that the construction of the figures of my " Seasons Pic-
tured " has involved some degree of care and labour — a
point which I only mention because tiiose figures have been
spoken of as if they had been drawn freehand.

Of course, the careful construction of the ellipse CkC'k'
would give correctly the points / and 7' in which this
ellipse meets the cii-cle aEa'E' — points corresponding to the
place of sunrise and sunset for places on the latitude-
parallel CC. But it is well to determine these important
points by a construction founded on the following simple
considerations. Since it is clear from what has been said
about straight lines passing through aOa' that tho plane of
the latitude-parallel cc' (fig. 1) always meets Oa in the same
point K (fig. 3), and since the line of intersection of this
plane with the plfim aEa'E' must be parallel to the line
EOE' (which is the intersection of the plane of the equator
with the plane aEa'E'), the line /K/' parallel to EOE' is

282

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

the line of intersection of the latitude-parallel c c' with the
plane aEa'E' ; and the points 7, /', thus determined are
clearly those we require. For only that part of the lati-
tude-parallel CC which lies on the nearer half-globe can be
visible, and the circle aEa'E' separates the visible from the
invisible hemisphere.

Fig. 4 is added to show the appearance of a transparent
globe traced with latitude-parallels and longitude-circles,
and presented in the same way as fig. 2, which is also the
presentation dealt with in the constructions illustrated by
fig- 3. =_=^=

Readers of Knowledge are requested to alter the words " It
is " at the beginning of the foot-note on p. 227 of the August
number into " Is it," altering the full stop after " folio " into
a note of interrogation. "Beuvolio" suggests in that note
the possibility that, after all, the passage regarded as un-
mistakably corrupt may be as Shakespeare wrote it, and
that Mrs. Quickly actually said, " his nose was as sharp as a
pen and a table of green fields." Put it the other way, says
" Benvolio," and it has as much sen.se in it as most of the
things said by Dame Quickly have : "his nose was a tablet
of green fields and as sharp as a pen." The reading,
" a babbled of green fields," would be better for a Desdemona
than a Dame Quickly.

Another mistake, for which my writing was, I fear,
respon.sible, occurs near the end of the fourth section of the
August "Gossip," where "the fvmiliar Peter Williams"
replaces " the familiar Peter Wilkins." I know of no Peter
Williams, and therefore to me, at any rate, the name is not
familiar. Peter Robinson and Jack Robinson are as
familiar as Peter Wilkins, though not quite in the same
way, while Robinson Crusoe is as familiar in a very similar
fashion. But Peter Williams is as much out of the way as
Robertson Crusoe would be.

I HAVE received from Mr. J. Fraser a copy of his pam-
phlet noticed at page 236, with a letter indicating the
author's belief that the notice is unfair. That the notice
is intentionally unfair, I can most emphatically deny, for
though I did not myself write it, I know the author, and
that he is incapable of the deliberate injustice imputed
to him. I had myself only glanced over Mr. Fraser's
pamphlet, and had come to the same conclusion as the
notice indicates, viz., that Mr. Fraser .suggests "beat" as
the true explanation of gravity, an idea which led me to
close the pamphlet with the remark, " That won't do." For
we know the rate at which heat travels, and this velocity is
quite insufiicient to account for the instantaneous trans-
mission of the action we call gravity, while also, though Mr.
Fraser may have conditioned that heat shall not act in the
proportion of sectional area, heat could not fulfil Mr.
Fraser's condition, but must act as the notice of his pam-
phlet said. If I can find time to peruse Mr. Fraser's
pamphlet (I use the word " peruse " here instead of " read "
of set purpose), and can find that he really does guai-d his
theory against the objections mentioned in the notice, I will
.state as much very willingly iu these columns. But, in the
meantime, I would beg Mr. Fraser to dismiss the notion
that he has been treated with wilful unfairness.

I DO not know what particular form the explanation of
gravity took in Mr. Kedzie's book mentioned in the notice
of Mr. Fraser's, but, from the account, it is the old old

explanation, according to which, particles travelling with
infinite velocity in all directions fall on bodies except where
shielded oflF by other bodies, and this again emphatically
will not do. If gravity is to be explained at all, it must be
by some form of energy transmitted from every particle of
evei'ybody's mass, with a rapidity incomparably exceeding
the velocity of light.

* * *
Space compels me to keep " Gossip " within very narrow
limits this month. I shall invite the attention of readers of
Knowledge, however, to the announcement which appears
in slip form among the advertisements. It will be observed
that the book on astronomy there announced will be very
much larger and more fully illustrated, in proportion to its
price, than any book of the same class yet published. But
I can pi'omise that it will be larger still and more fully illus-
trate if an adequate number of subscribers should justify
the additional expense. I have long regar'ded it as a mere
farce, and an unfair one at that, to offer for 31s. 6d. a book
of only some 600 ordinary octavo pages, even though the name
of an observatory astronomer is on the title-page, who, if
earning his salary, cannot possibly have had time either for
the reading or for the independent researches necessary for the
production of an oi'iginal treatise on general astronomy.

<Rebi>tos.

Anything that reaches us from the pen of Dr. Geikie
must be good, and his last little work only emphasises this
fact. The Teaching of Geography (Macmillan, 2s.) is an
introductory essay prefacing a series of manuals in that
subject promised by that enterprising firm. The book is
intended directly for teachers, and only indirectly for the
pupil. It systematises in Professor Geikie's masterly way
the methods by which the subject may become a valuable
educational instrument. It is a work much needed ; whether
it will succeed is another question, which we should hesitate
to answer in the affirmative quite so readily. The great
majority of schoolmasters outside the class of elementary
teachers hardly know how to teach at all. As Dr. Abbott
observed recently, a brass plate, and a preliminary failure in
some other occu]3ation, with, perhaps, the easily obtained
but imposing letters M.C.P. or F.R.G.S., form to them a
suflicient stock-in-trade. Still, there are some teachers
really in earnest in their work, to whom geography is not
topography only, and we cordially invite them to peruse this
book. In skilful hands the subject may be made a capital
training for the young. The large class of young elementary
teachers studying at college and elsewhere how to do their
work will doubtless use the book in their course. It will
unquestionably improve their knowledge of method.

Greek Verbs in a Fortnight, by John C^rey, B.A.
(Swan Sonnenschein & Co., Is. 6d.), is a fairly succe.ssful
attempt, by tabulation and generalisation, to shorten the
time usually wasted in learning the Greek verb. We think
it likely to be of use to older boys rather th.an to young
pupils.

The Exercises in Word Formation and Derivation, by
Frank Ritchie, M.A. (Sonnenschein), if time would allow
of its use in schools, would infuse a little useful variety in
the English grammar lesson. Word-building is one of the
best mind-expanding processes, especially with young pupils.
They enter into it with immense interest, and retain much.
The exercises upon derivation from the Latin and Greek
would suit older boy.s who have begim the study of those
languages ; but for those who have not, we think time might

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

283

be much better employed. The last few exercises on corre-
lation, distinctions, synonyms, and references in phrases
and words, will severely test the knowledge of not a few
teachers.

D. Mauer's Xew Mode of Geometrical Demonstration
(Brown, Abardeen) is ingenious and worthy of a perusal.

The Commonhealth. By Benjamin Ward Eichardson,
M.D.,r.R.S. (London : Longmans, Green, it Co. 1887.) —
The extent to which we hold our health — nay, the duration
of our very lives — in our own hands is in no way more
forcibly iOusti-ated than by the returns of mortality issued
by the Registrar-General ; and, to take a simple illustration,
the comparison of the death-rate in the metropolis in 1827
with that in 1887 can scarcely fail profoundly to astonish
any one who makes it for the first time. Dr. Richardson is
among the best known of our sanitary reformers, and, if we
are sometimes tempted to credit him with an amount of
enthusia.sm and optimism not wholly according to know-
ledge, no one can dem- or ignore the yeoman's service he has
done towards improving the health of his fellow-countrymen.
His latest volume, of which the title heads this notice, cor-
sists of a collection of essays and addresses, most of which
have previously been delivered in public, but one and all of
which are well worthy of perusal in their collected form.
Very notably is this the case with regard to his " Essays on
Education," the cooimon-sense of his remarks on the School
Board system commending itself to every one not afflicted
with our present Chinese craze for cramming and competitive
examination. Dr. Richardson's papers on " Diseases in-
cidental to Public Life " ; " Woman as a Sanitary Re-
former " ; " Dress in relation to Health " ; and " Cycling as
a Health Pursuit " must each appeal to a large circle of
readers. That on •' Upper and Lower London," of all those
in the volume, appears to us a little too Utopian.

History of the Boers in South A frica. By George McCall
Theal. (London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, & Co.
1887.) — We have only to read any Parliamentary debate on
our South African difficulties during the past few years to
be convinced how curiously ignorant Englishmen, as a rule,
are of the true history and present condition of affairs in
the vast country or countries surrounding our colony at
the Cape. We welcome, then, a history of people with
whom our relations have been so lai-gely of a hostile
character, written by an impartial observer, with neither
party ties nor prepossessions to warp his judgment. In fact,
it is the rigid impartiality of Mr. Theal's book which con-
stitutes its chief value, and imparts to it its highest interest.
While he recognises the value of missionary effort, the
missionaries themselves, as depicted in his pages, certainly
would not seem to be fairly describable in the words of
!Malachi, ii. 6 ; while, as for the Boers, many of their
utterances, even in public documents, evoke irresistible
reminiscences of the exclamation of the Irishman : " Dthrunk
or sober, thank the Lord, no one niver gat the thruth out o'
me ! " Mr. Theal has made an addition of real value to our
knowledge of the existing state of Southern Africa, and a
study of his pages might even conceivably enable us to
avoid one of the wretched little wars which are imminent
wherever civilised and semi-ci\ilised or savage races are
conterminous.

A Misunderstood Miracle. By Rev. A. Sjitthe Palmer,
B.A. (London : Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, «fc Co. 1887.)
— Here is a melancholy instance of time wasted and scholar-
ship perverted in an attempt to explain the mythical
legend in Joshua x. 12-1-t. Verily Mr. Palmer's title
is an appropriate one, inasmuch as we can scarcely conceive
any much more serious misunderstanding of this story than
to regard it as the record of a miracle at all. We wonder

whether the author of this Uttle book has ever reflected on
the impious audacity of supposing that the Infinite Author
of the L'niverse would suspend the inexorable laws of
Nature in order that one semi-Siivage tribe might the more
eff"ectually slaughter another in a valley in a corner of Asia.
Presumably Mr. Palmer preaches the doctrine of forgive-
ness of our enemies, the while illustrating the justice of
the command by the assumption that He who uttered it
darkened the very sun in the sky, that He might exter-
minate those who oflTended Him I This is playing into the
hands of " Saladin" and Company with a vengeance.

The Temperaments : their Sticdi/ and their Teaching. By
Alex. Stewart, F.R.C.S. Edin. (London: Crosby Lock-
wood ife Co. 1887.) — Inasmuch as the word " tempera-
ment" is often employed in a manner or sense in which it
can only be regarded as a solecism, Mr. Stewart, who is
clearly an enthusiast on his subject, has set himself rigidly
to define the four orthodox " temperaments " (the Sanguine,
the Bilious, the Lymphatic, and the Nervous) and their
various combinations ; to indicate by what external physical
signs their existence may be inferred ; and to show in what
manner intellectual capacity and character are modified by
them. In a tabular "scheme " of the four simple tempera-
ments, our author sets forth in parallel columns the physical
and mental characteristics which distinguish them ; and sub-
sequently shows how combinations of these temperaments
give rise to corresponding changes both in mind and body.
Illustrations in support of his contention are derived by
Mr. Stewart from various eminent men and women, some
of whose portraits appear in the plates bound in with the
book. That a large substratum of fict underlies his hypo-
thesis can scarcely be doubted ; and assuredly the study of
the temperaments must be at once a more profitable and
scientific one than an investigation of the vagaries and
puerilities of cheiromancy, which is — or has recently been
— so fashionable. A good deal of information of an odd
and out-of-the-way kind, to say nothing of amusement, may
be gathered from the pages before us. The book is beauti-
fully printed and got up.

Outlines of Quantitative Aiuib/sis. By A. Humboldt
Sexton. (London : Charles Griffin & Co. 1887.) — In this
unpretending little volume Mr. Sexton introduces the
student who has familiarised himself more or less with
qualitative analysis to the more practically useful and inte-
resting methods of analysing both organic and inorganic
substances quantitatively. His directions are simple and
perspicuous, and his illustrations sufficiently numerous and
good. It is well suited to its purpose.

The Theories oj Anarchy and of Law : A Midnight
Debate. By H. B. Brewster. (London: Williams &
Norgate. 1887.) — What Goldsmith said of Johnson — that
he made his little fishes talk like whales — is applicable, to a
considerable extent, to the author of the curious book whose
title heads this notice. Certainly Mr. Brewster would have
secured more attention and consideration for his views had
he cast his dialogue in a somewhat less pedantic and
academic form ; for surely no four liring men ever talked
for the hour together in the stilted periods and with the
scholastic diction of his interlocutors, Ralph, Wilfrid,
Lothaire, and Harold. We must refer the reader to the
book itself for its author's theory of life and ethics, and
leave him, or her, to decide how far the reduction of that
theory to practice would conduce to the happiness of man-
kind at large.

Gleanings in Old Garden Literature. By W. Carew
Hazlitt. (London : Elliot Stock. 1887.) — All lovers of
the innocent pleasures of a garden will revel in Mr. Hazlitt's
quaint and curious extracts from forgotten horticultural

284

KNOWLEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

literature. Of course, Evelyn, Bacon, Sii- William Temple,
and other owners of famous gardens figure largely in his
pages, and much intere.'5ting information will be found as tc
the early cultivation in this country of vegetables now pro-
curable by, and familiar to, the very poorest of the popula-
tion. It is strange to read of the market-gardens at
Battersea, and of the nursery-grounds at Brompton (existing
during the memory of many who will read these lines),
where miles of streets, crescents, " gardens," and squares
now cover the ground. Something will be found in Mr.
Hazlitt's ]iages to interest every one, from the owner of the
lordl}' garden, with its acres of glass, to the possessor of a
window-box full of mignonette or tropoeolum.

TJw, Fii.ngus-Ihmter's Guide and Field Memorandum Book.
By W. Delisle Hay, F.R.G.S. (London : Swan Sonnen-
schein, Lowrey, & Co. 1887.) — In the handy little volume
before us Mr. Hay gives descriptions, amply illustrated, of
all the British fungi, interleaving it with ruled paper for
notes and memoranda in the field. By means of two " keys "
prefixed the order and genus of any fungus may be found,
and then in the list of genera the "find" may be hunted down.
A valuable feature in Mr. Hay's book is the distinction of
fungi into esculent, doubtfully esculent, poi.sonous, supposed
to be poisonous, and unknown. No one who will carefully
note the letters appended to the description of each species
can have the slightest excuse for eating even an unwhole-
some kind of fungus, and on this ground alone the woi'k
may be commended to the gourmet as well as to the
scientific botanist.

Humiary. By Arminius Vambery, with the collabora-
tion of Louis Heilprin. (London : T. Fisher TJnwin.
1887.) — If ever the history of a country could be epitomised
in the phrase of our liturgy, " Battle, murder, and sudden
death," it would be that of Hungary, as narrated by
Professor Vambery in the new volume of the " Story of the
Nations " series now before us. From the date of the
conquest of the Pannonians by Tiberius down to the days
of Kossuth, Gtirgei, and Batthydni, war, civil or exotic,
slaughter, and rapine appear to have formed the chronic
conditions of existence of the inhabitants of the country to
the west of the Carpathian Mountains. The patriotism, not
to call it the partisanship, of Professor Vambery lends a
colouring to the whole narrative; and the reader will
scarcely be surprised to find what is piaised in the Hun-
garian as bravery and justifiable artifice denounced as
cruelty and treachery when practised by his enemies. But,
allowance made for this, the student of history will find in
the work before us an interesting account of the persistent
struggles for freedom of a most gallant and interesting
nationality.

Boijs and Masters. By A. H. Gilkes, M.A. (Ijondon :
Longmans, Green, & Co. 1887.) — Mr. Gilkes calls " Boys
and Masters " " a story of school life," but there is an
amount of imagination in this description which is not
always to be found in a narrative whose distinguishing
feature is its exiguity. Certainly Mr. Gilkes's boys are very
natural boys, and many of us will excite or revive reminis-
cences of our own school and schoolfellows in reading of

o

their sayings and doings. Presumably, too, the masters
are equally natural as depicted when, so to speak, ofl^ parade ;
but of this, for obvious reasons, we can speak less confi-
dently. Apparently Mr. Gilkes's aim seems to be to insist
upon the responsiljility of parents in connection with the
education of their children; but, if so, pretty sustained
attention is needed to discover it. Whether it was the
spreUe injuria formm that drove Dr. Scott to resign his
mastership, or what, we are as ignorant now as we were
before we opened the book.

Matter and Energy. By B. L. L. (London : Kegan
Paul, Trench, & Co. 1887.)— " What," asked Punch, in
his imperishable epitome of metaphysics, " is mind ? No
matter. And what is matter ? Never mind." Pursuing
a parallel path, " B. L. L." regards matter as a mere figment
of the imagination, and energy as the sole entity in the
univer.se. We wholly fail to .see upon what ground our
author would be justified in predicating the objective exist-
ence of his father and mother, who must, upon his showing,
be simply resolved into a bundle of his own sensations and
into nothing else in the world.

England's Ideal, t(-c. By Edward Carpenter. (London:
Swan Sonneiischein, Lowrey, <fe Co. 1887.) — This mass of
Communistic trash is pretty obviously the work of a man
who, failing to emancipate himself from his own social
stratum, proposes to regenerate society by di'agging every-
body down to his own level. The author's ignorance of the
manners, customs, and modes of thought and feeling of the
classes he so scurrilously abuses would be ridiculous were it
not so utterly contemptible. This is a species of literature
which may suit such as can read of the drunken loafers who
follow Hyndman, Champion & Co. into Trafalgar Square,
but can only excite disgu.st in, and wholly repel, any
tolerably educated, fair-minded Englishman, be his social
rank what it may.

The London Weather Chart, 1887. By B. G. Jenkins,
F.R.A.S. (London : R. Morgan.) — Mr. Jenkins appears to
us to be, as nearly as may be, as often wrong as he is right,
which is only another way of saying that his predictions are
made upon no sound .scientific principle whatever. Taking the
month in which this is written (August) he summarises his
expectations thus : " Barometer rather low first half of the
month" (up to the 13th it was really very high), "bringing
rain and decrease of temperature " (the protracted di'ought
and great heat must be fresh in the memory of all our
readers). " Violent gale probably about the -Ith " (no
gale whatever happened ; there was a thunderstorm on the
1.5th-lGth). So far Mr. .Jenkins was ludicrously wrong.
" Fine the last half of the month, with, however, rain
towards the close," I'epresents a little, and only a little, more
accurately what really occurred. Now, if Mr. Jenkins's pre-
dictions had proved correct in any considerable majority of
cases the presumption would be that he really had hit upon
the law governing the weather of the metropolis. On
the other hand, if he were persistently wrong, it would
appear tliat he was on the track of a law, but had mistaken
its signification. When, however, he is, as we began by
remarking, about half wrong and half right, the conclusion
is irresistible that his vaticinations are about as valuable as
those of Murphy or Zadkiel, neither more nor less so.

The Management of the Eye, Ear, and Throat. By
Henry Power, F.R.C.S., George P. Field, and John S.
Bristowe, M.D., F.R.S. The Management of the Skin and
Hair. By Malcolm Morris, F.P>,.C.S. Edin. (London,
Paris, New York, and Melbourne : Cassell & Co.) — These
two valuable little books are reprinted from that large and
elaborate work, " The Book of Healtli," issued by the same
publishers ; and may be confidently recommended as
thoroughly trustworthy guides to the self-management of
those organs of the human body of which they respectively
treat. On the importance of the preseivatiou of sight,
hearing, and speech throughout life, it would be idle to
insi.st ; and the non-professional reader will find in the first
volume of those whose titles head this notice, the jjlainest
and most explicit dii'ections for that purpose. Mr. Malcolm
Morris's work should in addition become popular with the
fair sex, inasmuch as in the skin and hair reside some of the
most striking and important elements of female beauty;

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOW^LEDGE ♦

285

and ladies will find a quantity of information which cannot
fail to be of value to them between its two covers. To
follow Mr. Morris's injunctions in their integrity should
insure a clear complexion and abundant tresses at an age
when, alas I but too many have fallen hopelessly into the
hands of the cosmetiqiie makers and friseur ; and on this
ground alone his small volume may be commended to all
who wish to preserve their original charms undimmed.

Syllabus of Elementary Geometrical Conies. (London :
Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey, &■ Co.) — This small volume is
issued by the Association for the Promotion of Geometrical
Teaching, and will be found handy by the student as an aid
to memory.

The Watch- Jobber's Handbook. By Paul N. Hasluck.
(London : Crosby Lockwood & Son. 1887.)— This latest
of !Mr. Hasluek's thoroughly practical little books will be
found very handy as a book of reference by country watch-
makers in out-of-the-way places, and by learners and
apprentices everywhere. In point of fact, any amateur
mechanic ftimiliar with the use of tools ought, after a care-
ful stud}' of this volume, to be able to clean and adjust any
ordinary horizontal or lever watch, though probablj' a
chronometer or duplex one might prove a little bej'ond his
capacity. The first forty-nine pages of the work are
devoted to a detailed description of the methods of cleaning,
repairing, and adjusting watches, the remaining ninetj'-oue
being devoted to a profusely-illustrated glossary of technical
terms, something like that contained in ~S\x. Britten's well-
known book. There Ls a very good index to it.

Black arul White. Nos. 6 and 7. (Manchester : 1887.)
— A weeklv illustrated pennyworth, with lithographed
portraits of famous cricketers and more or less artistic
landscapes. " Daisy Nook " belongs to the former class.

A Lecture . . . on Diseases of the Hair : and a Lecture
on Baldness and Ringworm. By James Startin. (London :
Harrison <t Sons.) — We are glad to find a man of Mr.
Starttn's eminence deUvering the two lectures reported in
this little pamphlet to the Hairdressers' Guild, and it is
much to be hoped that it will also be read by those upon
whom the members of the said guild operate. Certainly,
were any hairdresser to imagine a customer to be familiar
with its contents, he would tbink twice before telling that
customer what a member of the craft not many years ago
assured the present writer, that plenty of people who found
Sir Erasmus Wilson's prescriptions fail had been cured of
baldness by the application of his " Balsam of Ecbatana " (or
some such rubbish) !

ABC Five-Fitjnre Logarithms. By 0. J. Woodward,
B.Sc. (London : Simpkin, Marshall, & Co.) — This is a very
handy little book indeed, containing the logarithms of
numbers from 1 to 9999 to 5 places of decimals, vrith
analytical factors, and other tables useful in the laboratory.
The differences in Table I. are arranged on a simple plan,
and the tables themselv&s are indexed, ingeniously enough,
ledger fashion, so that the finger being placed upon the
index of the page required the book opens at it at once.

Intelligence in the Van. By Horace Dobell, M.D.
(London : Wertheimer, Lea, & Co.) — The visible Universe
had its origin in ■' Potentia." When poor creatures like
Darwin, Huxley, Komanes, and their fellows assert that mind
is a development as much as man's material organisation, and
that it has passed through its successive stages from ihe
lowest to the highest, they talk nonsense, because Dr.
Dobell knows better. Vitality was one of the modes of
Potentia, and so the world became peopled with life ; with
voluntary locomotion came mind, and mind in man assumed
the mode of soul. Ever}' animal possesses aspiration, but

in the lower animals it is directed objectively. Directed
subjectively in man it becomes soul. Professor Eomanes
weakly traces the development of mind from reflex action
through instinct to intelligence or reason. Dr. Dobell says,
No. The order must be reversed, and we must have intel-
ligence in the Van. Hence the title of his tract. We can
only trust that the reader follows the line of argument. If
we may borrow a piece of American slang. Dr. Dobell's
appears to be a very " one-horse " Van, placed studiously
before the animal which should draw it.

i[echanic(d Dentistry. By Chari.es Hl'\ter. Third
Edition. (London : Crosby Lockwood & Co. 1887.) — That
this volume of " Weale's Series " should already have run
into a third edition affords a tolerable indication of its use
and value to the dental profession. Moreover, at a time
when a leading dentist has cheerfully declared that, fifty
years hence, not a man, woman, or child in the United
Kingdom will have a sound tooth in his or her head, it may
not be wholly uninteresting to the general public to learn
something of the elaborate mechanical devices employed (as
Mr. Samuel Weller observed) "to assist Natur' " when
their normal masticatory apparatus fails them.

Mr. W. H. Collins sends us A Proposed Alteration in
the System of Playinq off Minor Events in Lawn-tennis
Tournaments, which he thinks will be fairer to those who
compete for prizes. It seems decidedly more complicated
than the existing system.

The Mammoth ami the Flood. By H. H. Howorth,
M.P., F.S.A. (Sampson Low & Co.)— This book is dedi-
cated to the Duke of Argyll, who is just now cock-a-hoop
at the discovery that Darwin's theory of the formation of
coral islands has been disproved by the researches of the
Challenger naturalists, and who consequently thinks that
the whole theory of the origin of species is on its last legs.
Ex peJe Uerculem. Mr. Howorth is fighting shadows,
bringing needlessly he;ivy and cumbersome artillery in the
shape of this big volume against uniformitarianism. The
quotation which he gives from Professor Huxley as to the
place of "catastrophes" as part and parcel of the uniform
operation of agencies var\-ing in degree and intensity of
action disposes of the matter, and we therefore think that
the author has wasted abilities which, as his valuable
" History of the Mongols " shows, are of no mean order.
We are none the less glad to have his collection of legendary
and true materials concerning the mammoth gathered to-
gether, but we fail to see that the positions of the skele-
tons of that last of man's contemporaries among the larger
mammals warrants the author's inference of a universal
flood. The geological evidence in support of this Ls, how-
ever, reserved for publication in another volume.

Saga Time. By J. Filford Vicarv. (Kegan Paul,
Trench, & Co.) — We regret to learn that the author of this
clear and lively account of the men who wrote the famous
Sagas and of the leading Sagas themselves has passed beyond
the sound of the critic's praise or blame, and the more so as
we can speak well of the way in which he has discharged
his task. He has caught the spirit and temper of the
stii-ring times described, when life was an unending battle
and feasting bout; the Sagas, with their tales of king,
courtier, warrior, thrall, and freeman, woven deftly by the
honoured skalds, the insight which they give into law,
custom, and belief are all set before us in unaffected and
vigorous English. The general sketches are followed by
a careful and useful abstract of the Volsunga-Saga. If it
lacks the pleas;int archaic flavour of Cox and Jones's sum-
mary in their " Popular Piomances," it gives the reader
compensation in the explanatory matter embodied in it.
Altogether the book is one to be heartily commended to the

286

♦ KNOWLEDGE

[October 1, 1887.

student of Northern life and custom as a sound and trust-
worthy introduction to subjects exhaustively treated in
works like the " Corpus Poeticum Boreale " of York Powell
and Vigfusson.

Animal Biology. By C. Lloyd Morgan. (Rivingtons.)—
This is a thoroughly practical book, sufficient for the medical
student, for whom it is primarily intended, and, withal, un-
technical enough to be enjoyed by the general reader.
Acting on the sound principle that when once the form and
function of a given organism have been mastered its rela-
tion or nnrelation to large groups is clear, the author
selects typical reprcFentatives of each sub-kingdom, illustrat-
ing his expositions by diagrams, which are to be preferred
to pictures in all guides to laboratory work.

The English Illustrated Magazine, 1886-87. (Macmillan
ct Co.) — The present volume fully maintains the high level
of its predecessors. The delicacy and, withal, vigour of the
woodcuts evidence that our engravers need not fear the
competition of theii" American rivals. As for the letter-
press, it suffices to say that B. L. Fai;jeon, Marion Crawford,
Grant Allen, and the late Pvichard Jefleries are among the
contributors.

Messrs. Longmans send us a cheap edition of that lively
story of travels, Three in Norway, by Two of Them, on
which the public has wisely set its seal of approval. Messrs.
Blackwood have issued the twelfth edition of the late
David Page's Introductory Textbook of Physical Geography,
to which Professor W. D'Arcy Thompson adds a revised
chapter on animal and plant distribution.

We have also to acknowledge the current issues of Long-
man's Magazine, with a pleasant paper on '• Independent
Travelling," by Mr. Hamerton, and the ojiening chapters of
a new story by the fecund author of " Mehalah " ; of the
Century, St. Nicholas, and the Westminster lieviein, which
has an article on the poetry of George Meredith, inviting
attention to works which his prose tends to obscure.
Travellers to the Ardennes should put Percy Lindley's
Walks (W. H. Smith & Son) in their pockets, as a guide-
book worth sis shillings instead of the sixpence it costs ; and
our microscopist readers may be reminded that Mr. Cole's
Microscopical Science Studies (Hammond <fe Co., Birming-
ham) continue to merit their support. They will be worth
keeping.

THE FACE OF THE SKY FOR OCTOBER.

By F.R.A.S.

HK outburst of solar activity to whioli reference has
more than once been recently made here seems to
have subsided, and sun spots are now few, small,
and infrequent. The zodiacal light is visible be-
fore sunrise in the east. The night sky is delineated
in map x. of "The Stars in their Seasons."
Minima of Algol. ("The Stars in their Seasons,"
map xii.) will occur at 12h. .50m. r,M. on the 3rd,
at SIh. 39m. P.M. on the 6th, at 6h. 28m. P..M. on
the 9th, at 1 Ih. 21m. P.M. on the 26th, and at 8h. 10m. p.m. on the
29th, and at o'her limes more inconvenient for the amateur observer.
Mercury is an evening star all through the month, and attains his
greatest eas'ern elongation from the sun (23° 48') in the early
morning of the 27th He is too near the horizon now, though,
especially towards the end of the month, for the observer to have
any reasonable chance of seeing him. Venus is a morning star
throughout October. She attains her greatest brilliancy on the
28th, and, should the sky be sufficientlj' clear about that date, may
be caught with the naked eye in bright sunshine, by any one who
knows exactly where to look for her. She exhibits a beautiful
crescent in the telescope. Neither Mars nor Jupiter are, for the
purposes of the ordinary amateur observer, visible. Saturn is a
morning star; he rises at midnight at the beginning of October,
and soon after lOh. p.m. at the end of it. His ring system is sen-
sibly the same as it was on his departure early in the year. He will

be found below the Pra^sepe in Cancer ("The Stars in their
Seasons," map ii.). Uranus is invisible, coming, in fact, into con-
junction with the sun on October 6. Neptune may be seen before
midnight, in that void part of the sky south of a line joining the
Pleiades and -y Tauri (" The Stars in their Seasons," map. xii.). He
looks like a 7-8th magnitude star, but shines more steadily than
any in the neighbourhood, and is of a slightly bluish tinge. The
moon is full at 3h. 47-3m. A.M. on the 2nd, enters her last quarter at
4h. 57'4m. A.M. on the 10th, is new at lOh. 35m. on the night of the
16th, enters her first quarter at 5h. 45-8m. P.M. on the 23rd, and is
full for the second time this month at 9h. 30'9m. at night on
the 31bt. High tides may be looked for on the 16th and 17th. No
less thun eleven occultations of fixed stars by the moon occur at
convenient hours during the present month. On the 6th. 75 Tauri,
a star of the 6th magnitude, will disappear at the bright limb of
the moon at lOh. 45m. P.M., at an angle from her vertex of 102°. It
will reappear ai her dark limb at llh. 39m. P.M., at an angle of 215°
from her vertex. On the same night 6' Tauri, of the 4.^th magnitude,
will dis.appear at the bright limb at lOh. 54m. at a vertical
angle of 350°, reappearing at the dark limb at 1 Ih. 8m., at an angle
of 325° from the vertex of the moon. Later still B.A.C. 1391,
of the 5th magnitude, will disappear at the bright limb at
llh. 4 5m. at an angle of 29° from the moon's vertex; and will
reappe;ir at her dark limb at 12h. 40m. P.M. at a vertical angle of
295°. On the 8th 71 Orionis, a 5^th magnitude star, will disappear
at the bright limb of the moon at llh. 56m. P.M. at an angle from
her vertex of 59°, reappearing at her dark limb at Ih. Im. A.M.
on the 9th at an angle of 237° from her vertex. On the 23rd
(T Capricorni, a 5i,th magnitude star, will 'disappear at the dark limb
of the moon at Sh. ISm. p.m. at an angle of 113° from her vertex; it
will reappear at her bright limb at 9h. 29m. P.M. at an angle fr.im
her vertex of 327°. On the 24th 6 Capricorni will disappear at her
dark limb at 4h. 32m. p.m. at an angle of 78° from her vertex, and
will reappear at 5h. 52m. P.M. at her bright limb, at a vertical angle
of 277°. On the 26ih, 70° Aquarii, of the 6th magnitude, will dis-
appear at the dark limb at 7h. .50m. P.M. at an angle of 88° from the
vertex of the moon ; its reappearance, 323° from the lunar vertex,
occurring at 9h. 7m. P.M. On the 28th B.A.C. 81, of the 6th mag-
nitude, will disappear at the moon's dark limb at lib. 32m. P.M. at
an angle from her vertex of 85°. It will reappear at her bright
limb 21 minutes after midnight, at an angle of 12° from lipr
vertex. On the 29th three occultations will happen, 26 Ceti, of the
65th magnitude, disappearing at the dark limb of the moon at
7h. 22m. P.M. at an angle of 87° from her vertex, and reappearing at
her bright limb at 8h. 37m. P.M. at an angle from her vertex of 274°.
Next, at lOh. 40m. P.M., 29 Ceti, also of the 6^th magnitude, will
disappear at the dark limb at an angle of 141° from the vertex of
the moon ; and will reappear at 1 Ih. 57m. p.m. at her bright limb at
an angle of 294° from her vertex. Thirdly, 33 Ceti, a star of the
6th magnitude, will disappear at the dark limb at 12h. 5Sm. P.M.,
193° from the moon's vertex. Its reappearance does not occur until
the next morning. We have said above that these eleven occulta-
tions occur at convenient hours ; but there is a twelfth which it is
well worth the while of the am.ateur to get up — or sit up — to
observe. We refer to the occultation of Aldebaran during the early
morning of the 7th. On that day, at 3h. 20m. A.M., the star will dis-
appear at the moon's bright limb at an angle from the vertex of
42°, its reappearance occurring at 4h. 2m. A.M. at the dark limb
at a vertical angle of 354°. The student will not forget that this is
the star which has been seen on more than one occasion to be appa-
rently projected on to the bright disc of the moon. At noon to-
day the moon is in Pisces ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.), and
in the course of two or three hours passes into the confines of Cetus,
from which she emerges in Pisces again at 4 P.M. on the 2nd, only,
however, to re-enter the most northerly portion of Oetus at 9 P.M.
on the 3rd. When .she finally quits this constellation at 10 P.M. on
the 4th it is to enter Aries. Her pas-.age through the remaining
part of Aries is accomplished by 4h. 3ilra. P..M. on the 5th. She
then crosses into Taurus (" The Seasons Pictured,'' plate xxiii.), and
travelling through it, arrives at 3h. P.M. on the 8th at the western
edge of the northern prolongation of Orion. She takes just twelve
hours to cro.ss this, and at 3h. A.M. on the 9th quits it for Gemini
("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiv.). Her journey through
Gemini ends at lOh. P.M. on the 10th, and she then pnsses into
Cancer. She remains in Cancer until lOh. a.m. on the 12th, and
then crosses into Leo. Leo she leaves for Virgo at 9h. 30m. P.M. on
the 14ih ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxv.), and Virgo in turn
for Libra at 6h. P.M. on the 17th (" 'J'he Seasons Pictured," plate
xxvi). Journeying through Libra she reaches at 9h. A.M. on the
19th the narrow northern spike of Scorpio. By 5h. 30m. P..M. on
the same day she h.as traversed this and come out in Ophiuchus.
Here she remains until 8h. A.M. on the 21st, when she crosses the
boundary into Sagittarius. By 4h. p.m. on the 23rd her passage
through Sagittarius is ended, and she has entered Capricornus

October 1, 1887.]

♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦

287

("The Seasons rictared," plate xxi.). She leaves Capricornus for
Aquarius at 6h. P.M. on the 25th, and Aquarius for Pisces at Dh. P.M.
on the 27th (" The Seasons Pictured," plate xxii.). After this, as at
the beginning of the month, she is skirting the confines of Pisces
and Cetus, being sometimes in one constellation and sometimes in
the other, and it is not imtil 6h. p.m. on the 31st that she finally
enters Aries again ("The Seasons Pictured," plate xxiil.). She is,
of course, still in Aries at m idnight on that day.

dBxir WiWt Column.

By "Five of Club.s."

MATHEWS ON WHIST.
Rearranged, partly rewritten, and occasionally corrected in accord-
ance with modern views.
Plat Third Hand — concluded.
E as careful what you throw away as of what }-ou
lead. It often leads to bad consequences to pla}'
a tray with a deuce in your hand Thus, sup-
pose your partner leads the four, your right-hand
adversary the five, and you put down the tray,
it ought then to be a certainty that you can ruff
the next trick in the suit. [If, however, you
hold the deuce, you not only cannot rutT, but as
you are utterly weak, the lead of the suit by
your partner is probably the worst thing he could have done.] If
your partner finds the deuce in your hand, and you frequently
deceive him in the same way, he loses all confidence in you, and is
prevented from playing his game on similar occasions. I wish to
inculcate to beginners special care in such points of whist play.
Every one can attain these minor qualifications. When once the
great advantage of correctness in such matters is recognised, the
weakest player should strive as constantly as the strongest to attain
it : attention only is necessary.

Plav Foukth Hand.
With ace, knave, and another, do not win the king led by your
left hand adversary. By passing it you either force him to ex-
change his lead or to give you tenace in his own suit. [Of course,
if your right-hand adversary show signs of being short in the suit,
or if a single trick makes or saves the game or a point, you should
play the ace unhesitatingly. Cavendish considers it generally bad
play to hold up the ace ; but in the case considered by Mathews it
is sound policy. Either the leader has great length in the suit or
not : it he has, you have the greater reason to retain command over
the suit as long as possible; if he has not, the chance of being
ruffel on the second round is small]

It frequently happens that by winning your partner's trick, when
you are last player, you give him the advantage of tenace over your
left-hand adversary. Thus A has king, knave (or any other second
and fourth best cards), with a small one of the suit, of which Y, your
partner, has the first and third and another. If A leads his small
card, and Y, your partner, wins it with his small card, you, as last
player, should win the trick if possible, though it is your partner's.
For you thus prevent A from making a trick in the suit, which he
must have done had you left the lead with Y.

Return Lead and Forced Lead.

With three, return the highest to your partner's lead. This answers
two purposes : it gives your partner an opportunity to finesse, and
it shows him that you held originally but three at most in the suit.
With four or more, you should return the lowest.

If you win your partner's lead with the queen, do not return it
(except in trumps) ; it is evident the ace and king are both behind
you, and, since your partner certainly does not hold both, returning
his lead gives the adversary the tenace.

It is generally right to return your partner's lead in trumps
unless he leads an equivocal card,* such as a nine or ten [in which
case, should you have reason to believe that the lead is from weak-
ness, you exercise your own judgment as to the propriety of going
on with trumps].

* So called because such a card may be led with propriety both
from a strong and from a weak suit. For instance, with a quint to
a king (that is, king, queen, knave, ten, nine), or with king, knave,
ten, nine, nine is led ; but nine is also led when it is the best of
two or three in a suit. [So also ten is led from king, knave, ten with
or without others, and from quart to king and one small card or
more ; but ten is led where it is the best of two or three.]

Beginners find it difficult to distinguish between original leads
and forced leads. When a player changes his original suit, he
commonly plays the best card of another, to give his partner the
advantage of a finesse. To such a lead from your partner you
should play as if it were your own or the adversary's : keep the
commanding card, ten, ace, Sec, and do not return it, as if it was an
original lead.

If the fourth player wins the adversary's lead, it is better to return
it than to open a new suit, unless you have such strength in this
suit that you can support your partner. [You put your partner in
a favourable position by returning the lead of the jjlayer on your
left under such circumstances, especially if you are yourself short
in the suit, and your right-hand adversary showed weakness in it.
Even if the suit is ruffed on your right, you probably gain.]

When you have a moderate hand yourself, sacrifice it to your
partner; if he is a good player he will act in the same manner
towards you.

The Discard.

7/ tveak in trti mps, Iwcp guard on your adversary's suits : if strong,
throw airay from t/iroi. [In these two rules, and in sixteen words,
Mathews sums up the whole duty of the sound player in discard-
ing.] Discard as much as possible from your partner's strong suits
in either case. [Or rather, y.>u can usually discard safely from
your partner's strong suits, even at times throwing away command-
ing cards in it ; you should be careful, however, to retain the means
of leading to your partner in them, if necessary. In some cases
you can with advantage throw away every card in your partner's
best suit, obtaining thereby a chance of an effective ruff ; but until
you are sure he will be able to lead the suit himself, it is well to
keep a small card or so in it to lead to him with.]

Observe carefully the original discard of each player, noting
whether the discard is to the lead of the partner or the adversary
of the player discarding. A discard to partner's lead is invariably
meant to direct him ; but a discard to a lead of an adversary is
frequently intended to deceive the adversary, and induce him to
lead his strong suit.

If your partner, to your winning card, throws away the best card
of any suit, it shows he wishes j-ou to know he commands it. If he
throws away the second best, you may infer that he has no more.

(!^ur CftesfS Column*

By " Mephisto."

ALTERNATION GAMES.

HESE games are played by four players, every per-
son moving alternately, without consulting the
other, as in the game printed below. If played
quickly, these games sfford a great deal of amuse-
ment to the players. The parties watch each other's
play with a great deal of suppressed excitement,
quite unusu.dl in the ordinary game. Will my part-
ner see my idea and make the right move ? is always
vividly impressed upon the countenance of the
player who has just sacrificed a piece in a combination dependent
lor its success upon two or three subtle moves. The prohibition
against consultation at such supreme moments is calculated to try
the patience and shake the moral probity even of a saint. To stare
intensely on a certain square of the board, to wriggle about im-
patiently on the chair, to cough when the ally is about to make the
wrong move, and to communicate in all manner of ways to the
partner, that a decisive combination is on, are expedients adopted
by weaker mortals with not sufficient moral restraint. Such undig-
nified conduct is unfair to the opponents, and would be painful
if it were not comical. These visible and glaring attempts to in-
fringe the law against communicating with your partner are, of
course, unworthy of plaj'ers of unimpeachable moral conduct : but,
unfortunateh', there still remains the invisible and stealthy kick
under the table, to attract your partner's attention, and in certain
positions I think even a saint would take to kicking, gently or
viciously, as the occasion may require.

These games are very useful when two strong players are opposed
to each other. The weaker partner will, in course of play, have
many opportunities to see and appreciate thoroughly the superior
ideas of his partner, and after the game he will have the advantage
of being shown where and how he failed to pursue the right course.
Having been engaged in thinking over the moves, he will be able to
understand any subsequent analysis, and derive much benefit and
instruction therefrom.

288

♦ KNO^ATLEDGE ♦

[October 1, 1887.

Alternation game played at the British Chess Club between
Messrs. Harris and Gansberg versus Messrs. Mills and Newnes.

■White.
Mr. Gunsberg.
1. P to K4
3. Kt to KB3
5. Kt to K5

Salvio Gambit.

Black. WiirrE. Black.

Mr. Newnes. Mr. Harris. Mr. Mills.

P to K4 2. P to KBl P X P

P CO KKtl 4. B to Bl P to Kt5

(This move does not lead to an advantageous line of play, as it
gives Black the option of taking the attack in his own hands. The
alternative to Kt to K5 is to play the Muzio Gambit by 5 Castling.
The latter is preferable. A player who does not wish to undertake
the difiicult attack of the Muzio, must therefore either play
4. P to KR4, leading to the AUgaier or Kieseritzky Gambits, or
not play the King's Gambit at all, but resort to the BLshop's
Gambit by 3. B to B4, a verv sound continuation.)
5. Q to R.=J (oh) 6. K to B sq Kt to KR3.

(6. P to B6 leads to a very lively and attacking continuation known
as the Cochrane Gambit.)
7. P to Q4 P to Q3.

(This move is not good at this point, because, as will be seen, the
Kt is better posted on Q3 for defensive purposes. 7. P to

B6 is Black's best.)

8. Kt to Q3 P to B6.

(Here 8. P to Kt6 ; 9. QB x P : Kt to Kt5, &c., may be

played.)
it. P to KKt3 Q to E6 (ch).

(This is not good ; it leads to very serious loss of time, for, with
the White Kt on Q3 (note, to Black's 7th move), the Black Queen
is lost if she plays to Kt7, nor can she stay at K6 on account of
Kt to B4. Black's best move is to retire the Q to K2, instead of
checking.)

10. K to B2.

( 10. K to K sq. is most advisable.)

10. Q to Kt7 (ch)

U. K to K3 B to K2.

( Black will now be compelled to give up the Queen, for two pieces
— Q to K7 (ch) — gives them a better chance of equalising the game.)

12. Kt to B4 B to Kt4.
13. BtoBsq BxKt(ch) 14. KxB.

(P X B was the right move.)

14. QxR.

(If Q to B7, then White plays B to K3.)

NEWKES.

MILLS.

GUNSBEEG.

WurrH.

HARRIS.

16. QxQ

PxB.

1.5. B to Kt.5 (ch) P to QB3
17. Kt to B3 Castles.

(By risking the P for a speed}' development Black has everything,
to gain, and nothing to lose.)

18. Kt X P P to B4,

(continuing in the dashing style of his partner's previous move.)
19. P to Ko.

(Unnecessary caution. White might have safely played 19 Kt to B7
if then PxP(ch). 20. K to K3, Kt to B4(ch). 21. K to B2,
Kt X QP. 22. Q to Q sq. winning.)

19. PxP(ch) 20. PxP KttoBS

21. B to Q2 B to Q2 22. R to K sq. Kt to K2 1
(Black's attack is speedily growing very embarrassing to White.
If the latter now replies with Kt to B3 he shuts off his own B and

Black would probably continue QR to K sq. Perhaps 23 Kt to Q6
was White's best.)

23. P to B4 B x Kt 24. P X B QR to Q sq !

(If White attempts to withdraw his K by K to K3 he will
lose a piece, as Black would reply with P to B5 (ch) 1)

2.5. B to B3 Kt to B2 !

NEWNES.

Black

MILLS.

GtTNSBERG.

HARRIS.

(A fine idea 1 it would be too dangerous for White t j stay with his
K on B4 much longer. White cannot play R to Q sq. on account of
Kt to Q4 (ch) ! Or if 26. P to K6, Kt to Q4 (ch). 27. K x P to B7.
(I do not see any other good move.) 28. P x Kt (ch), R x P (ch).
29. KxP, Kt to K6 (ch). 30. R x Kt, P to BS (Q). 31. QxQ,
R X Q, and the game is equal. This is, I believe, the best result
that White can attain. White can, of course, vary the proceedings
at every move of this interesting position, but it may safely be
assumed that the discovered checks in connection with the timely
advance of the P to B7 would mostly win. Again, if 26. Q to B sq,
P to B7. 27. R to B2 (best), Kt to Q4 (ch). 28. K x P, Kt x B.
29. Px Kt (best), Kt x Pfch). 30. K to K4 (best), Kt to B5, and
Blackwillwin. White can play 31. R x P, Kt to Q7 (ch). 32. R x Kt,
QR to Ksq (ch), wins the Queen. A careful analytical examina-
tion of the position in this diagram will afford amusement as well
as instruction ) 26. K to K3 Kt to Q4 (ch)

27. K to Q3 (best).

(If 27. K to Q2, Kt to Kt5 (ch), winning the exchange ; or it
27. K to B2, Kt X B. 28. P x Kt. 29. R to Q7 (ch), K to Esq,
Kt to Kt4, with a won game.)

27. Kt to Kt4 !

29. R to KBsq

(29. Q to Bsq seems better, but then Black could play R to Bsq
with a strong game.)

29. Kt to K6 (ch) 30. K to Ktsq P to B7

31. P to K6 R to Bsq 32. P to KR3

I quote this game from memory some considerable time after it
had been played. I cannot recollect the continuation from this
point. Black won by Queening his Pawn at a later stage. But they
might have won at once by Kt to Q7 (ch). 33. K to Rsq (if
BxKt then RxR (ch) wins), P to B8 (Q) ; and if 31. R x Q,
Kt to B7 mate.

Contents of No. 23.

28. K to B2

Kt to K5

PAGE

Wolf, Mastiff, and Sr.iniel 241

The Story of Creation : a Plain Ac-
count of Evolution. By Etiward

Clodd 243

The Civil War in America 24ti

Shakespeare's Sonnets 247

The One-Soale Atlas 250

The Southern Skies 251

A " Perfect Innings " at Cricket :

a Chance Problem 252

FAOB

Curves in Base Ball Play 254

The Sun's Interior 255

Gossip 256

Reviews 268

The Face of the Sky for September.

By F.R.A.S 261

Our Chesi Column. By *'Me-

phisto " 262

Our Whist Column. By " Five of

Clubs" 263

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