t)VllJ[U^ VJ y

^.

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY

■>/

EDITED BY
J. MCKEEN CATTELL

VOL. LX

NOVEMBER, 1901, TO APRIL, 1902

NEW YORK

THE SCIENCE PRESS

1901-2

Copyright, 1901,
THE SCIENCK PRESS.

PRESS OF

"HE NEW ERA PRINTING COMPAMV,

LANCASTER, PA.

a. ^.

a^T'lt^yyt^

i I.
X

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

NOVEMBEK, 1901.

ON" THE TENDENCY OF SPECIES TO FOEM VARIETIES;

AND ON THE PEEPETUATION OF VARIETIES AND

SPECIES BY NATURAL MEANS OF SELECTION.*

By CHARLES DARWIN, Esq., F.R.S., F.L.S., and F.G S , and ALFRED WALLACE, Esq

Communicated by SIR CHARLES LYELL, F.R.S., F.L.S., and J. D. HOOKER,

Esq., M.D., V.P.R.S., F.R.S., etc.

(Read July 1,1858.)

London, June 30th, 1858.
My Dear Sir: — The accoinpan5dng papers, which we have the honour
of communicating to the Linnean Society, and which all relate to the
same subject, viz., the Laws which affect the Production of Varieties,
Races, and Species, contain the results of the investigations of two
indefatigable naturalists, Mr. Charles Darwin and Mr. Alfred Wallace.

*From Vol. III. (1858) of the 'Journal' of the Linneau Society. The
original announcement of the principle of the origin of species by natural selec-
tion made by Darwin and Wallace before the Linnean Society will be of great
interest to readers of this journal. It is perhaps the most important event
in the history of science, and the circumstances give to it a dramatic charac-
ter. Sir Charles Lyell and Sir Joseph Hooker explain in their letter of trans-
mission how it came to pass that the manuscripts were presented. In this con-
nection, however, the following extract of a letter from Darwin to Lyell (June
25, 1S58) may be reproduced:

There is nothing in Wallace's sketch which is not written out much
fuller in my sketch, copied out in 1844, and read by Hooker some dozen years
ago. About a year ago I sent a short sketch, of which I have a copy, of my views
(owing to correspondence on several points) to Asa Gray, so that I could most
truly say and prove that I take nothing from Wallace. I should be extremely
glad now to publish a sketch of my general views in about a dozen pages or so;
but I cannot persuade myself that I can do so honourably. Wallace says noth-
ing aV)out publication, and I enclose his letter. But as I had not intended to
publish any sketch, can I do so honourably, because Wallace has sent me an
outline of his doctrine? I would far rather burn my whole book, than that he

31602

6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

These gentlemen having, independently and unknown to one an-
other, conceived the same very ingenious theory to account for the ap-
pearance and perpetuation of varieties and of specific forms on our
planet, may both fairly claim the merit of being original thinkers in
this important line of inquiry; but neither of them having published
his views, though Mr. Darwin has for many years past been repeatedly
urged by us to do so, and both authors having now unreservedly placed
their papers in our hands, we think it would best promote the interests
of science that a selection from them should be laid before the Linnean
Society.

Taken in the. order of their dates, they consist of:

1. Extracts from a MS. work on Species,* by Mr. Darwin, which
was sketched in 1839, and copied in 1844, when the copy was read by
Dr. Hooker, and its contents afterwards communicated to Sir Charles
Lyell. The first Part is devoted to 'The Variation of Organic Beings
under Domestication and in their Xatural State'; and the second
chapter of that Part, from which we propose to read to the Society the
extracts referred to, is headed, *0n the Variation of Organic Beings
in a state of Nature ; on the Natural Means of Selection ; on the Com-
parison of Domestic Races and true Species.'

3. An abstract of a private letter addressed to Professor Asa Gray,
of Boston, U. S., in October, 1857, by Mr. Darwin, in which he repeats
his views, and which shows that these remained unaltered from 1839
to 1857.

3. An Essay by Mr. Wallace, entitled 'On the Tendency of Varieties
to depart indefinitely from the Original Type.' This was written at
Ternate in Eebruary, 1858, for the perusal of his friend and corre-
spondent Mr. Darwin, and sent to him with the expressed wish that it
should be forwarded to Sir Charles Lyell, if Mr. Darwin thought it
sufficiently novel and interesting. So highly did Mr. Darwin appre-
ciate the value of the views therein set forth, that he proposed, in a
letter to Sir Charles Lyell, to obtain Mr. Wallace's consent to allow
the Essay to be published as soon as possible. Of this step we highly
approved, provided Mr. Darwin did not witlihold from the public, as

or any other man should think that I had behaved in a paltry spirit. Do you
not think his having sent me this sketch ties my hands? * * * If I could
honourably publish, I would state that I was now induced to publish
a sketch (and I should be very glad to be permitted to say, to follow
your advice long ago given) from Wallace having sent me an outline of
my general conclusions. We differ only, [in] that I was led to my views
from what artificial selection has done for domestic animals. I would send
Wallace a copy of my letter to Asa Gray, to show him that I had not stolen
his doctrine. But I cannot tell whether to publish now would not be base and
paltry. This was my first impression, and I should have certainly have acted
on it had it not been for your letter.

* This MS. work was never intended for publication, and therefore was not
written with care. — C. D., 1858.

TENDENCY OF SPECIES TO FORM VARIETIES. 7

he was strongly inclined to do (in favor of Mr. Wallace), the memoir
wliich he had himself written on the same subject, and which, as before
stated, one of ns had perused in 1844, and the contents of which
we had both of us been privy to for many years. On representing this
to Mr. Darwin, he gave us permission to make what use we thought
proper of his memoir, &c. ; and in adopting our present course, of
presenting it to the Linnean Society, we have explained to him that we
are not solely considering the relative claims to priority of himself and
his friend, but the interests of science generally; for we feel it to be
desirable that views founded on a wide deduction from facts, and ma-
tured by years of reflection, should constitute at once a goal from
which others may start, and that, while the scientific world is waiting
for the appearance of Mr. Darwin's complete work, some of the leading
results of his labours, as well as those of his able correspondent, should
together be laid before the public.

We have honour to be yours very obediently,

Charles Lyell.

Jos. D. Hooker.
J. J. Bennett, Esq.,

Secretary of the Linnean Society.

1. Extract from an unpublished Wor-k on Species, by C. Darwin,
Esq., consisting of a portion of a Chapter entitled, 'On the Variation of
Organic Beings in a state of Nature; on the Natural Means of Selec-
tion; on the Comparison of Domestic Races and true Species.'

De Candolle, in an eloquent passage, has declared that all nature
is at war, one organism with another, or with external nature. Seeing
the contented face of nature, this may at first well be doubted ; but re-
flection will inevitably prove it to be true. The war, however, is not
constant, but recurrent in a slight degree at short periods, and more
severely at occasional more distant periods; and hence its effects are
easily overlooked. It is the doctrine of Malthus applied in most cases
with tenfold force. As in every climate there are seasons, for each of
its inhabitants, of greater and less abundance, so all annually breed;
and the moral restraint which in some small degree checks the increase
of mankind is entirely lost. Even slow-breeding mankind has doubled
in twenty-five years; and if he could increase his food with greater
ease, he would double in less time. But for animals without artificial
means, the amount of food for each species must, on an average, be
constant, whereas the increase of all organisms tends to be geometrical,
and in a vast majority of cases at an enormous ratio. Suppose in a
certain spot there are eight pairs of birds, and that only four pairs of
ihem annually (including double hatches) rear only four young, and
that these go on rearing their young at the same rate, then at the end

8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of seven years (a short life, excluding violent deaths, for any bird)
there will be 2048 birds, instead of the original sixteen. As this in-
crease is quite impossible, we must conclude either that birds do not
rear nearly half their young, or that the average life of a bird is, from
accident, not nearly seven years. Both checks probably concur. The
same kind of calculation applied to all plants and animals affords re-
sults more or less striking, but in ver}^ few instances more striking
than in man.

Many practical illustrations of this rapid tendency to increase are
on record, among which, during peculiar seasons, are the extraordinary
numbers of certain animals; for instance, during the years 1826 to
1828, in La Plata, when from drought some millions of cattle perished,
the whole country actually swarmed with mice. Now I think it cannot
be doubted that during the breeding-season all the mice (with the ex-
ception of a few males or females in excess) ordinarily pair, and there-
fore that this astounding increase during three years must be attributed
to a greater number than usual surviving the first year, and then breed-
ing, and so on till the third year, when their numbers were brought
down to their usual limits on the return of wet weather. Where man
has introduced plants and animals into a new and favourable country,
there are many accounts in how surprisingly few years the whole country
has become stocked with them. This increase would necessarily stop
as soon as the country was fully stocked ; and yet we have every reason
to believe, from what is known of wild animals, that all would pair in
the spring. In the majority of cases it is most difficult to imagine
where the checks fall — though generally, no doubt, on the seeds, eggs,
and young; but when we remember how impossible, even in mankind
(so much better known than any other animal), it is to infer from
repeated casual observations what the average duration of life is, or to
discover the different percentage of deaths to births in different
countries, we ought to feel no surprise at our being unable to discover
where the check falls in any animal or plant. It should always be re-
membered, that in most cases the checks are recurrent yearly in a small,
regular degree, and in an extreme degree during unusually cold, hot,
dry, or wet years, according to the constitution of the being in question.
Lighten any check in the least degree, and the geometrical powers of
increase in every organism will almost instantly increase the average
number of the favoured species. Nature may be compared to a surface
on which rest ten thousand sharp wedges touching each other and
driven inwards by incessant blows. Fully to realize these views much
reflection is requisite. Malthus on man should be studied; and all
such cases as those of the mice in La Plata, of the cattle and horses
when first turned out in South America, of the birds by our calculation,
etc., should be well considered. Reflect on the enormous multiplying

TENDENCY OF SPECIES TO FORM VARIETIES. 9

power inherent and annually in action in all animals; reflect on the
countless seeds scattered by a hundred ingenious contrivances, year after
year, over the whole face of the land; and yet we have every reason to
suppose that the average percentage of each of the inhabitants of a coun-
try usually remains constant. Finally, let it be borne in mind that this
average number of individuals (the external conditions remaining the
same) in each country is kept up by recurrent struggles against other
species or against external nature (as on the borders of the Arctic
regions, where the cold checks life), and that ordinarily each individual
of every species holds its place, either by its own struggle and capacity
of acquiring nourislnnent in some period of its life, from the Qgg up-
wards; or by the struggle of its parents (in short-lived organisms,
when the main check occurs at longer intervals) with other individuals
of the same or different species.

But let the external conditions of a country alter. If in a small
degree, the relative proportions of the inhabitants will in most cases
simply be slightly changed; but let the number of inhabitants be
small, as on an island, and free access to it from other countries be
circumscribed, and let the change of conditions continue progressing
(forming new stations), in such a case the original inhabitants must
cease to be as perfectly adapted to the changed conditions as they were
originally. It has been shown in a former part of this work, that
such changes of external conditions would, from their acting on the
reproductive system, probably cause the organization of those beings
which were most affected to become, as under domestication, plastic.
Now, can it be doubted, from the struggle each individual has to obtain
subsistence, that any minute variation in structure, habits, or instincts,
adapting that individual better to the new conditions, would tell upon
its vigour and health? In the struggle it would have a better chance
of surviving; and those of its offspring which inherited the variation,
be it ever so slight, would also have a better chance. Yearly more are
bred than can survive; the smallest grain in the balance, in the long
run, must tell on which death shall fall, and which shall survive. Let
this work of selection on the one hand, and death on the other, go on for
a thousand generations, who will pretend to affirm that it would produce
no effect, when we remember what, in a few years, Bakewell effected in
cattle, and Western in sheep, by this identical principle of selection?

To give an imaginary example from changes in progress on an
island: — let the organization of a canine animal which preyed chiefly
on rabbits, but sometimes on hares, become slightly plastic; let these
same changes cause the number of rabbits very slowly to decrease,
and the number of hares to increase ; the effect of this would be that the
fox or dog would be driven to try to catch more hares ; his organization,
however, being slightly plastic, those individuals with the lightest forms.

lo POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

longest limbs, and best eyesight, let the difference be ever so small,
would be slightly favoured, and would tend to live longer, and to survive
during that time of the year when food was scarcest; they would also
rear more young, which would tend to inherit these slight peculiarities.
The less fleet ones would be rigidly destroyed. I can see no more
reason to doubt that these causes in a thousand generations would pro-
duce a marked effect, and adapt the form of the fox or dog to the catch-
ing of hares instead of rabbits, than that greyhounds can be improved
by selection and careful breeding. So would it be with plants under
similar circumstances. If the number of individuals of a species
with plumed seeds could be increased by greater powers of dissemina-
tion within its own area (that is, if the check to increase fell chiefly on
the seeds), those seeds which were provided with ever so little more
down, would in the long run be most disseminated; hence a greater
number of seeds thus formed would germinate, and would tend to
produce plants inheriting the slightly better-adapted down.*

Besides this natural means of selection, by which those individuals
are preserved, whether in their egg, or larval, or mature state, which are
best adapted to the place they fill in nature, there is a second agency
at work in most unisexual animals, tending to produce the same effect,
namely, the struggle of the males for the females. These struggles
are generally decided by the law of battle, but in the case of birds,
apparently, by the charms of their song, by their beauty or their power
of courtship, as in the dancing rock-thrush of Guiana. The most
vigourous and healthy m.ales, implying perfect adaptation, must gen-
erally gain the victory in their contests. This kind of selection, how-
ever, is less rigorous than the other; it does not require the death of
the less successful, but gives to them fewer descendants. The struggle
falls, moreover, at a time of the year when food is generally abundant,
and perhaps the effect chiefly produced would be the modification of
the secondary sexual characters, which are not related to the power of
obtaining food, or to defence from enemies, but to fighting with or
rivalling other males. The result of this struggle amongst the males
may be compared in some respects to that produced by those agricul-
turists who pay less attention to the careful selection of all their young
animals, and more to the occasional use of a choice mate.

3. Abstract of a Letter from C. Daewin, Esq., to Professor Asa
Gkay^ Boston, U. 8., dated Down, September 5th, 1857.

1. It is wonderful what the principle of selection by man, that is
the picking out of individuals with any desired quality, and breeding
from them, and again picking out, can do. Even breeders have been
astounded at their own results. They can act on differences inappre-

* I can see no more difficulty in this, than in the planter improving his
A-arieties of the cotton plant. — C. D., 1858.

TENDENCY OF SPECIES TO FORM VARIETIES. 1 1

ciable to an uneducated eye. Selection has been methodically followed
in Europe for only the last half century; but it was occasionally, and
even in some degree methodically, followed in the most ancient times.
There must have been also a kind of unconscious selection from a
remote period, namely in the preservation of the individual animals
(without any thought of their offspring) most useful to each race of
man in his particular circumstances. The 'roguing,' as nurserymen
call the destroying of varieties which depart from their type, is a kind
of selection. I am convinced that intentional and occasional selection
has been the main agent in the production of our domestic races;
but however this may be, its great power of modification has been in-
disputably shown in later times. Selection acts only by the accumu-
lation of slight or greater variations, caused by external conditions, or
by the mere fact that in generation the child is not absolutely similar
to its parent. Man, by this power of accumulating variations, adapts
living beings to his wants — may be said to make the wool of one sheep
good for carpets, of another for cloth, etc.

2. Now suppose there were a being who did not judge by mere ex-
ternal appearances, but who could study the whole internal organization,
who was never capricious, and should go on selecting for one object
during millions of generations ; who will say what he might not effect ?
In nature we have some slight variations occasionally in all parts; and
I think it can be shown that changed conditions of existence is the main
cause of the child not exactly resembling its parents; and in nature
geology shows us what changes have taken place and are taking place.
We have almost unlimited time; no one but a practical geologist can
fully appreciate this. Think of the Glacial period, during the whole
of which the same species at least of shells have existed; there must
have been during this period millions on millions of generations.

3. I think it can be shown that there is such an unerring power at
work in Natural Selection (the title of my book), which selects exclu-
sively for the good of each organic being. The elder De Candolle, W.
Herbert, and Lyell have written excellently on the struggle for life;
but even they have not written strongly enough. Eefiect that every be-
ing (even the elephant) breeds at such a rate, that in a few years, or
at most a few centuries, the surface of the earth would not hold the
progeny of one pair. I have found it hard constantly to bear in mind
that the increase of every single species is checked during some part of
its life, or during some shortly recurrent generation. Only a few of
those annually born can live to propagate their kind. What a trifling
difference must often determine which shall survive, and which perish !

4. Now take the case of a country undergoing some change. This
will tend to cause some of its inhabitants to vary slightly — not but that
I believe most beings vary at all times enough for selection to act on

12 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

them. Some of its inhabitants will be exterminated; and the re-
mainder will be exposed to the mutual action of a different set of in-
habitants, which I believe to be far more important to the life of each
being than mere climate. Considering the infinitely various methods
which living beings follow to obtain food by struggling with other or-
ganisms, to escape danger at various times of life, to have their eggs or
seeds disseminated, etc., etc., I cannot doubt that during millions of
generations individuals of a species will be occasionally born with
some slight variation, profitable to some part of their economy. Such
individuals will have a better chance of surviving, and of propagating
their new and slightly different structure; and the modification may
be slowly increased by the accumulative action of natural selection
to any profitable extent. The variety thus formed will either coexist
with, or, more commonly, will exterminate its parent form. An or-
ganic being, like the woodpecker or misseltoe, may thus come to be
adapted to a score of contingencies — natural selection accumulating
those slight variations in all parts of its structure, which are in any
way useful to it during any part of its life.

5. Multiform difficulties will occur to every one, with respect to
this theory. Many can, I think, be satisfactorily answered. Natura
non facit saltum answers some of the most obvious. The slowness of
the change, and only a few individuals undergoing change at one time,
answers others. The extreme imperfection of our geological records
answers others.

6. Another principle, which may be called the principle of diver-
gence, plays, I believe, an important part in the origin of species. The
same spot will support more life if occupied by very diverse forms. We
see this in the many generic forms in a square yard of turf, and in the
plants or insects on any little uniform islet, belonging almost invari-
ably to as many genera and families as species. We can understand
the meaning of this fact amongst the higher animals, whose habits
we understand. We know that it has been experimentally shown that a
plot of land will yield a greater weight if sown with several species
and genera of grasses, than if sown with only two or three species.
Now, every organic being, by propagating so rapidly, may be said to
be striving its utmost to increase in numbers. So it will be with the
offspring of any species after it has become diversified into varieties,
or sub-species, or true species. And it follows, I think, from the fore-
going facts, that the varying offspring of each species will try (only
few will succeed) to seize on as many and as diverse places in the
economy of nature as possible. Each new variety or species, when
formed, will generally take the place of, and thus exterminate its less
well-fitted parent. This I believe to be the origin of the classification
and affinities of organic beings at all times; for organic beings always

TENDENCY OF SPECIES TO FOEM VARIETIES. 13

seem to branch and sub-branch like the limbs of a tree from a common
trunk, the flourishing and diverging twigs destroying the less vigorous
— the dead and lost branches rudely representing extinct genera and
families.

This sketch is most imperfect; but in so short a space I cannot
make it better. Your imagination must fill up very wide blanks.

C. Dakwin".

3, On the Tendency of Varieties to depart indefinitely from the
Original Type. By Alfred Eussel Wallace.

One of the strongest arguments which have been adduced to prove
the original and permanent distinctness of species is, that varieties pro-
duced in a state of domesticity are more or less unstable, and often have
a tendency, if left to themselves, to return to the normal form of the
parent species; and this instability is considered to be a distinctive
peculiarity of all varieties, even of those occurring among wild animals
in a state of nature, and to constitute a provision for preserving un-
changed the originally created distinct species.

In the absence or scarcity of facts and observations as to varieties
occurring among wild animals, this argument has had great weight
with naturalists, and has led to a very general and somewhat prejudiced
belief in the stability of species. Equally general, however, is the be-
lief in what are called 'permanent or true varieties,' — races of animals
which continually propagate their like, but which differ so slightly
(although constantly) from some other race, that the one is considered
to be a variety of the other. Which is the variety and which the
original species, there is generally no means of determining, except
in those rare cases in which the one race has been known to produce
an offspring unlike itself and resembling the other. This, however,
would seem quite incompatible with the 'permanent invariability of
species,' but the difficulty is overcome by assuming that such varieties
have strict limits, and can never again vary further from the original
type, although they may return to it, which, from the analogy of the
domesticated animals, is considered to be highly probable, if not cer-
tainly proved.

It will be observed that this argument rests entirely on the assump-
tion, that varieties occurring in a state of nature are in all respects
analogous to or even identical with those of domestic animals, and are
governed by the same laws as regards their permanence or further
variation. But it is the object of the present paper to show that this
assumption is altogether false, that there is a general principle in
nature which will cause many varieties to survive the parent species,
and to give rise to successive variations departing further and further
from the original type, and which also produces, in domesticated ani-
mals, the tendency of varieties to return to the parent form.

14 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The life of wild animals is a struggle for existence. The full ex-
ertion of all their faculties and all their energies is required to preserve
their own existence and provide for that of their infant offspring. The
possibility of procuring food during the least favourable seasons, and of
escaping the attacks of their most dangerous enemies, are the primary
conditions which determine the existence both of individuals and of
entire species. These conditions will also determine the population
of a species; and by a careful consideration of all the circumstances
we may be enabled to comprehend, and in some degree to explain, what
at first sight appears so inexplicable — the excessive abundance of some
species, while others closely allied to them are very rare.

The general proportion that must obtain between certain groups of
anitnals is readily seen. Large animals cannot be so abundant as
small ones; the carnivora must be less numerous than the herbivora;
eagles and lions can never be so plentiful as pigeons and antelopes;
the wild asses of the Tartarian deserts cannot equal in numbers the
horses of the more luxuriant prairies and pampas of America. The
greater or less fecundity of an animal is often considered to be one of
the chief causes of its abundance or scarcity ; but a consideration of the
facts will show us that it really has little or nothing to do with the
matter. Even the least prolific of animals would increase rapidly if
unchecked, whereas it is evident that the animal population of the
globe must be stationary, or perhaps, through the influence of man,
decreasing. Fluctuations there may be; but permanent increase, ex-
cept in restricted localities, is almost impossible. For example, our
own observation must convince us that birds do not go on increasing every
year in a geometrical ratio, as they would do, were there not some power-
ful check to their natural increase. Very few birds produce less than
two young ones each year, while many have six, eight, or ten; four
will certainly be below the average; and if we suppose that each pair
produce young only four times in their life, that will also be below the
average, supposing them not to die either by violence or want of food.
Yet at this ratio how tremendous would be the increase in a few years
from a single pair ! A simple calculation will show that in fifteen
years each pair of birds would have increased to nearly ten millions!
whereas we have no reason to believe that the number of the birds of
any country increases at all in fifteen or in one hundred and fifty
years. With such powers of increase the population must have reached
its limits, and have become stationary, in a very few years after the
origin of each species. It is evident, therefore, that each year an im-
mense number of birds must perish — as many in fact as are born;
and as on the lowest calculation the progeny are each year twice as
numerous as their parents, it follows that, whatever be the average
number of individuals existing in any given country, twice that number

TENDENCY OF SPECIES TO FORM VARIETIES. 15

must perish annnaUy, — a striking result, but one which seems at least
highly probable, and is perhaps under rather than over the truth. It
would therefore appear that, as far as the continuance of the species
and the keeping up the average number of individuals are concerned,
large broods are superfluous. On the average all above one become
food for hawks and kites, wild cats and weasels, or perish of cold and
hunger as winter comes on. This is strikingly proved by the case of
particular species; for we find that their abundance in individuals
bears no relation whatever to their fertility in producing offspring.
Perhaps the most remarkable instance of an immense bird population
is that of the passenger pigeon of the United States, which lays only
one, or at most two eggs, and is said to rear generally but one young one.
Why is this bird so extraordinarily abundant, while others producing
two or three times as many young are much less plentiful? The ex-
planation is not difficult. The food most congenial to this species,
and on which it thrives best, is abundantly distributed over a very
extensive region, offering such differences of soil and climate, that in
one part or another of the area the supply never fails. The bird is
capable of a very rapid and long-continued flight, so that it can pass
without fatigue over the whole of the district it inhabits, and as soon
as the supply of food begins to fail in one place, is able to discover a
fresh feeding-ground. This example strikingly shows us that the
procuring a constant supply of wholesome food is almost the sole con-
dition requisite for ensuring the rapid increase of a given species, since
neither the limited fecundity, nor the unrestrained attacks of birds of
prey and of man are here sufficient to check it. In no other birds are
these peculiar circumstances so strikingly combined. Either their
food is more liable to failure, or they have not sufficient power of wing
to search for it over an extensive area, or during some season of the year
it becomes very scarce, and less wholesome substitutes have to be found ;
and thus, though more fertile in offspring, they can never increase
beyond the supply of food in the least favourable seasons. Many
birds can only exist by migrating, when their food becomes scarce, to
regions possessing a milder, or at least a different climate, though, as
these migrating birds are seldom excessively abundant, it is evident
that the countries they visit are still deficient in a constant and abun-
dant supply of wholesome food. Those whose organization does not
permit them to migrate when their food becomes periodically scarce, can
never attain a large population. This is probably the reason why
woodpeckers are scarce with us, while in the tropics they are among the
most abundant of solitary birds. Thus the house sparrow is more
abundant than the red-breast, because its food is more constant and
plentiful, — seeds of grasses being preserved during the winter, and our
farm-yards and stubble-fields furnishing an almost inexhaustible sup-

1 6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ply. Wh}^, as a general rule, are aquatic, and especially sea birds, very
numerous in individuals? Not because they are more prolific than
others, generally the contrary; but because their food never fails,
the sea-shores and river-banks daily swarming with a fresh supply of
small mollusca and Crustacea. Exactly the same laws will apply to
mammals. Wild cats are prolific and have few enemies; why then are
they never as abundant as rabbits ? The only intelligible answer is, that
their supply of food is more precarious. It appears evident, therefore,
that so long as a country remains physically unchanged, the numbers
of its animal population cannot materially increase. If one species
does so, some others requiring the same kind of food must diminish
in proportion. The numbers that die annually must be immense;
and as the individual existence of each animal depends upon itself,
those that die must be the weakest — the very young, the aged, and the
diseased, — while those that prolong their existence can only be the
most perfect in health and vigor — those who are best able to obtain food
regularly, and avoid their numerous enemies. It is, as we commenced
by remarking, '& struggle for existence,' in which the weakest and least
perfectly organized must always succumb.

Now it is clear that what takes place among the individuals of a
species must also occur among the several allied species of a group, —
viz., that those which are best adapted to obtain a regular supply of
food, and to defend themselves against the attacks of their enemies and
the vicissitudes of the seasons, must necessarily obtain and preserve a
superiority in population; while those species which from some defect
of power or organization are the least capable of counteracting the
vicissitudes of food supply, etc., must diminish in numbers, and, in
extreme cases, become altogether extinct. Between these extremes the
species will present various degrees of capacity for ensuring the means
of preserving life; and it is thus we account for the abundance or
rarity of species. Our ignorance will generally prevent us from ac-
curately tracing the efl'ects to their causes ; but could we become perfectly
acquainted with the organization and habits of the various species of
animals, and could we measure the capacity of each for performing
the different acts necessary to its safety and existence under all the
varying circumstances by which it is surrounded, we might be able
even to calculate the proportionate abundance of individuals which is
the necessary result.

If now we have succeeded in establishing these two points — 1st,
that the animal population of a country is generally stationary, being
I'ept down by a periodical deficiency of food, and other checks; and,
2d, that the comparative abundance or scarcity of the individuals of
the several species is entirely due to their orgo/nization and resulting
hahits, ivhich, rendering it more difficult to procure a regular supply of

TENDENCY OF SPECIES TO FORM VARIETIES. 17

food and to provide for their personal safety in some cases than in
others, can only be balanced by a difference in the population which
have to exist in a given area — we shall be in a condition to proceed to
the consideration of varieties, to which the preceding remarks have a
direct and very important application.

Most or perhaps all the variations from the typical form of a species
must have some definite effect, however slight, on the habits or capac-
ities of the individuals. Even a change of colour might, by rendering
them more or less distinguishable, affect their safety; a greater or less
development of hair might modify their habits. More important
changes, such as an increase in power or dimensions of the limbs
or any of the external organs, would more or less affect their mode
of procuring food, or the range of country which they inhabit. It is
also evident that most changes would affect, either favourably or ad-
versely, the powers of prolonging existence. An antelope with shorter
or weaker legs must necessarily suffer more from the attacks of the
feline carnivora; the passenger pigeon with less powerful wings would
sooner or later be affected in its powers of procuring a regular supply
of food; and in both cases the result must necessarily be a diminution
of the population of the modified species. If, on the other hand, any
species should produce a variety having slightly increased powers of
preserving existence, that variety must inevitably in time acquire a
superiority in numbers. These results must follow as surely as old age,
intemperance, or scarcity of food produce an increased mortality. In
both cases there may be many individual exceptions ; but on the average
the rule will invariably be found to hold good. All varieties will there-
fore fall into two classes — those which under the same conditions would
never reach the population of the parent species, and those which would
in time obtain and keep a num.erical superiority. Now, let some alter-
ation of physical conditions occur in the district — a long period of
drought, a destruction of vegetation by locusts, the irruption of some
new carnivorous animal seeking 'pastures new* — any change in fact
tending to render existence more difficult to the species in question,
and tasking its utmost powers to avoid complete extermination; it
is evident that, of all the individuals composing the species, those form-
ing the least numerous and most feebly organized variety would suffer
first, and, were the pressure severe, must soon become extinct. The
same causes continuing in action, the parent species would next suffer,
would gradually diminish in numbers, and with a recurrence of similar
unfavourable conditions might also become extinct. The superior
variety would then alone remain, and on a return to favourable circum-
stances would rapidly increase in numbers and occupy the place of the
extinct species and variety.

VOL. LX. — 2.

i8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The variety would now have replaced the species, of which it would
be a more perfectly developed and more highly organized form. It
would be in all respects better adapted to secure its safety, and to pro-
long its individual existence and that of the race. Such a variety
could not return to the original form; for that form is an inferior
one, and could never compete with it for existence. Granted, there-
fore, a 'tendency' to reproduce the original type of the species, still the
variety must ever remain preponderant in numbers, and under adverse
physical conditions again alone survive. But this new, improved, and
populous race might itself, in course of time, give rise to new varieties,
exhibiting several diverging modifications of form, any of which, tend-
ing to increase the facilities for preserving existence, must, by the same
general law, in their turn l)ecome predominant. Here, then, we have
progression and continued divergence deduced from the general laws
which regulate the existence of animals in a state of nature, and from
the undisputed fact that varieties do frequently occur. It is not, how-
ever, contended that this result would be invariable ; a change of phys-
ical conditions in the district might at times materially modify it, ren-
dering the race which had been the most capable of supporting existence
under the former conditions now the least so, and even causing the ex-
tinction of the newer, and, for a time, superior race, while the old or
parent species and its first inferior varieties continued to flourish.
Variations in unimportant parts might also occur, having no per-
ceptible effect on the life-preserving powers; and the varieties so fur-
nished might run a course parallel with the parent species, either giving
rise to further variations or returning to the former type. All we argue
for is, that certain varieties have a tendency to maintain their existence
longer than the original species, and this tendency must make itself
felt; for though the doctrine of chances or averages can never be
trusted to on a limited scale, yet, if applied to high numbers, the results
come nearer to what theory demands, and, as we approach to an in-
finity of examples, become strictly accurate. Now the scale on which
nature works is so vast — the numbers of individuals and periods of time
with which she deals approach so near to infinity, that any cause, how-
ever slight, and however liable to be veiled and counteracted by acci-
dental circumstances, must in the end produce its full legitimate results.
Let us now turn to domesticated animals, and inquire how varieties
produced among them are affected by the principles here enunciated.
The essential difference in the condition of wild and domestic animals
is this, — that among the former, their well-being and very existence
depends upon the full exercise and healthy condition of all their senses
and physical powers, whereas, among the latter, these are only partially
exercised, and in some cases are absolutely unused. A wild animal
has to search, and often to labour, for every mouthful of food — to ex-

TENDENCY OF SPECIES TO FORM VARIETIES. 19

ercise sight, hearing, and smell in seeking it, and in avoiding dangers,
in procuring shelter from the inclemency of the seasons, and in provid-
ing for the subsistence and safety of its offspring. There is no muscle
of its body that is not called into daily and hourly activity; there is
no sense or faculty that is not strengthened by continual exercise. The
domestic animal, on the other hand, has food provided for it, is sheltered
and often confined, to guard it against the vicissitudes of the seasons,
is carefully secured from the attacks of its natural enemies, and seldom
even rears its young without human assistance. Half of its senses and
faculties are quite useless; and the other half are but occasionally
called into feeble exercise, wliile even its muscular system is only irreg-
ularly called into action.

Now when a variety of such an animal occurs, having increased
power or capacity in any organ or sense, such increase is totally useless,
is never called into action, and may even exist without the animal ever
becoming aware of it. In the wild animal, on the contrary, all its
faculties and powers being brought into full action for the necessities
of existence, any increase becomes immediately available, is strength-
ened by exercise, and must even slightly modify the food, the habits,
and the whole economy of the race. It creates as it were a new animal,
one of superior powers, and which will necessarily increase in numbers
and outlive those inferior to it.

Again, in the domesticated animal all variations have an equal
chance of continuance; and those which would decidedly render a wild
animal unable to compete with its fellows and continue its existence
are no disadvantage whatever in a state of domesticity. Our quickly
fattening pigs, short-legged sheep, pouter pigeons, and poodle dogs
could never have come into existence in a state of nature, because the
very first step towards such inferior forms would have led to the rapid
extinction of the race ; still less could they now exist in competition with
their wild allies. The great speed but slight endurance of the race
horse, the unwieldy strength of the ploughman's team, would both be
useless in a state of nature. If turned wild on the pampus, such animals
would probably soon become extinct, or under favourable circumstances
might each lose those extreme qualities which would never be called
into action, and in a few generations would revert to a common type,
which must be that in which the various powers and faculties are so
proportioned to each other as to be best adapted to procure food and
secure safety, — that in which by the full exercise of every part of his
organization the animal can alone continue to live. Domestic varieties,
when turned wild, must return to something near the type of the orig-
inal wild stock, or become altogether extinct.

We see, then, that no inferences as to varieties in a state of nature
can be deduced from the observation of those occurring among domestic

20 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

animals. The two are so much opposed to each other in every circum-
stance of their existence, that what applies to the one is almost sure
not to apply to the other. Domestic animals are abnormal, irregular,
artificial; they are subject to varieties which never occur and never
can occur in a state of nature : their very existence depends altogether
on human care; so far are many of them removed from that just pro-
portion of faculties, that true balance of organization, by means of
which alone an animal left to its own resources can preserve its exist-
ence and continue its race.

The hypothesis of Lamarck — that progressive changes in species
have been produced by the attempts of animals to increase the develop-
ment of their own organs, and thus modify their structure and habits
— has been repeatedly and easily refuted by all writers on the subject
of varieties and species, and it seems to have been considered that when
this was done the whole question has been finally settled; but the view
here developed renders such an hypothesis quite unnecessary, by show-
ing that similar results must be produced by the action of principles
constantly at work in nature. The powerful retractile talons of the
falcon- and the cat-tribes have not been produced or increased by the
volition of those animals; but among the different varieties which
occurred in the earlier and less highly organized form of these groups,
those always survived longest which had the greatest facilities for seiz-
ing their prey. Neither did the giraffe acquire its long neck by desir-
ing to reach the foliage of the more lofty shrubs, and constantly
stretching its neck for the purpose, but because any varieties which
occurred among its anti-types with a longer neck than usual at once
secured a fresh range of pasture over the same ground as their shorter-
necTced companions, and on the first scarcity of food were thereby en-
abled to outlive them. Even the peculiar colours of many animals,
especially insects, so closely resembling the soil or the leaves or the
trunks on which they habitually reside, are explained on the same
principle ; for though in the course of ages varieties of many tints may
have occurred, yet those races having colours best adapted to conceal-
ment from their enemies would inevitably survive the longest. We
have also here an acting cause to account for that balance so often
observed in nature, — a deficiency in one set of organs always being
compensated by an increased development of some others — powerful
wings accompanying weak feet, or great velocity making up for the
absence of defensive weapons; for it has been shown that all varieties
in which an unbalanced deficiency occurred could not long continue
their existence. The action of this principle is exactly like that of the
centrifugal governor of the steam engine, which checks and corrects
any irregularities almost before they become evident; and in like
manner no unbalanced deficiency in the animal kingdom can ever reach

T?:yr)Excy of species to form varieties. 21

any conspicuous magnitude, because it would make itself felt at the very-
first step, bv rendering existence difficult and extinction almost sure soon
to follow. An origin such as is here advocated will also agree with the
peculiar character of the modifications of form and structure which
obtain in organized beings — the many lines of divergence from a central
type, the increasing efficiency and power of a particular organ through
a succession of allied species, and the remarkable persistence of unim-
portant parts such as colour, texture of plumage and hair, form of horns
or crests, through a series of species differing considerably in more es-
sential characters. It also furnishes us with a reason for that 'more
specialized structure' which Professor Owen states to be a characteristic
of recent compared with extinct forms, and which would evidently be
the result of the progressive modification of any organ applied to a
special purpose in the animal economy.

We believe we have now shown that there is a tendency in nature
to the continued progression of certain classes of varieties further and
further from the original type — a progression to which there appears
no reason to assign any definite limits — and that the same principle
which produces this result in a state of nature will also explain why
domestic varieties have a tendency to revert to the original type. This
progression, by minute steps, in various directions, but always checked
and balanced by the necessary conditions, subject to which alone ex-
istence can be preserved, may, it is believed, be followed out so as to
agree with all the phenomena presented by organized beings, their ex-
tinction and succession in past ages, and all the extraordinary modifi-
cations of form, instinct, and habits which they exhibit.

Ternate, February, 1858.

VOL. LX.-

2 2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE STORY OF THE CAHOW.

THE MYSTERIOUS EXTINCT BIRD OF THE BERMUDAS.
By professor a. E. VERRILL,

YALE UNIVERSITY.

WHEN the Bermudas were first visited by Europeans, about three
hundred years ago, they had never been occupied by man. In
this respect they differed from most islands of a similar size and
blessed with a genial climate.

The study of the character of their original fauna and flora and of
the changes subsequently wrought by man is, therefore, of peculiar
interest. Fortunately there were several educated and intelligent men
in the two parties who were wrecked upon the islands (1593 and 1609)
to whom we owe the first intelligent descriptions of the islands and
their products. These writers and others who settled there in 1612 to
1616, all agree in respect to the wonderful abundance of certain sea-
birds, whose eggs and fiesh contributed very largely to their food
supply. Indeed, it is probable that without this source of food those
shipwrecked parties would have died of starvation. Even later, in 1615,
during a famine that occurred among the settlers, the birds furnished
for a time a large part of their food. One of these abundant and useful
birds they called the 'egg-bird,' because its spotted eggs were laid in
vast numbers, openly, in May, on some of the smaller sandy islands
'reserved for their use.' This was undoubtedly a tern, probably the
common tern, or the roseate tern, both of which were still breeding in
small numbers on Gurnet Rock in 1850.

Perhaps both these species of terns were included under the general
name of 'egg-birds,' for two or more species often breed together and
liave similar eggs. The noddy tern may also have been one of them, for
it is mentioned under this name by one of the early writers.

But the terns were so continually and persistently robbed and killed
that they were soon driven from their breeding grounds or exterminated.
They are now known only as migrants. As breeding birds they have
long been extinct at the Bermudas, the last records of their breeding
being about fifty years ago. Among the formerly abundant birds
there is one, however, of far greater interest; originally called the
'cahow' or 'cohowe,' with various other spellings, from its singular note.
Tliis bird is unknown to science and is, so far as known, totally extinct.

TEE STORY OF THE CAEOW. 23

At the time of the early settlements (1612 to 1615) it bred in great
numbers on some of the smaller islands and was easily captured at
night. It laid a single, large, white egg, described as like a hen's egg
in size, color and flavor. The nest was, according to all early writers,
except one, a burrow in the sand like a coney's, and not in crevices of
ihe rocks, like that of the shearwaters, with which many writers have
tried to identify it. Governor N"athaniel Butler, in his 'Historye
of the Bermudaes,' writing about 1619, states that its eggs and young
were found in crevices of the ledges, but he probably did not have the
advantage of personal experience.

The time of laying its eggs is another very remarkable thing, in
which it differed from all other birds of northern latitudes. The
early contemporary writers all agree that it laid its eggs 'in December
and January' or 'in the coldest and darkest months of the year.' The
shearwaters, even in the West Indies, lay their eggs in spring (March

Castle Island, looking south; a, ancient ruined fort or citaiul; b, barracks anh

BATTERY ; C, ANCIENT WALL, BROKEN DOWN AT C' BY THE HURRICANE OF

Sept. 12, 1899 ; d, main island of Bermuda.

and April) and their eggs are so musky that they are not edible; cer-
tainly no one would compare them to a hen's egg. Their flesh has, also,
so strong a flavor of bad fish-oil and musk that no one would eat it,
unless on the verge of starvation.

The bird itself was variously described as of the size of a pigeon,
green plover or sea mew; its bill was hooked and strong, and it could
bite viciously; its back was 'russet brown' and there were russet and
white quillfeathers in its wings; its belly was white. It was strictly
nocturnal in its habits, and could be called within reach of the hand
by making loud vocal notes. Its flesh was described as of excellent
flavor, and for that reason it was captured at night in large numbers,
while its eggs were constantly gathered for food. It arrived in October
and remained until the first of June.

There is no known living bird that agrees with it in these several
characters. Most certainly it could not have been a shearwater, nor any

24 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

member of the petrel family, all of which have such a disagreeable
flavor that neither their flesh nor eggs are edible. It seems to me far
more probable that it was allied to the auks {Alcidw), many of which
burrow in the ground and lay white, edible eggs. The northern auks
also have edible flesh and often a strong hooked bill.

But no existing species breeds so far south, nor do they breed in
winter. The cahow may have spent the summer in the southern hemis-
phere, but possibly it was an arctic bird that produced a southern brood
in winter. Or it may have been a localized pelagic species, coming to
the laiid only for breeding purposes.

The following graphic account of the bird and its habits was
written by Mr, W. Strachy, one of the party of 150 persons who were
wrecked with Sir George Somers in the 'Sea Venture,' July, 1609:

"A kinde of webbe-footed Fowle there is, of the bignesse of an English
greene Plover, or Sea-Meawe, which all the Summer we saw not, and in the
darkest nights of November and December (for in the night they onely feed)
they would come forth, but not flye farre from home, and hovering in the ayre,
and over the Sea, made a strange hollow and harsh howling. They call it of
the cry which it maketh, a Cohow. Their colour is inclining to Kusset, with
white bellies, as are likewise the long feathers of their wings. Russet and
White, these gather themselves together and breed in those Hands which are
high, and so farre alone into the Sea, that the Wilde Hogges cannot swimme
over them, and there in the ground they have their Burrowes, like Conyes in a
Warren, and so brought in the loose Mould, though not so deepe; which Birds
with a light bough in a darke night (as in our Lowbelling) wee caught, I have
beene at the taking of three hundred in an houre, and wee might have laden
our Boates. Our men found a prettie way to take them, which was by standing
on the Rockes or Sands by the Sea-side, and hollowing, laughing, and making
the strangest outcry that possibly they could; with the noyse whereof the
Birds would come flocking to that place, and settle upon the very armes and
head of him that so cryed, and still creepe neerer and neerer, answering the
noyse themselves; by which our men would weigh them with their hand, and
which weighed heaviest they took for the best and let the others alone, and so
our men would take twentie dozen in two houres of the chiefest of them; and
they were a good and well relished Fowle, fat and full as a Partridge. In
January wee had great store of their Egges, which are as great as an Hennes
Egge, and so fashioned and white shelled and have no difference in yolke nor
white from an Hennes Egge. There are thousands of these Birds, and two
or three Hands full of their Burrowes^ whether at any time (in two houres
warning) wee could send our Cockboat, and bring home as many as would serve
the whole Company: which Birds for their blindnesse (for they see weakly in
the day) and for their cry and whooting, wee called the Sea Owle; they will
bite cruelly with their crooked Bills."

The following description is taken from 'The Narrative' (1610),
by Silvanus Jourdain, who was also one of Somers's party:

"Another Sea fowle there is that lyeth in little holes in the ground, like
unto Coney holes, and are in great numbers exceedingly good meate, very fat
and sweet (those we had in the winter and their eggs are white, and of that

TEE STORY OF THE CAIIOW. 25

bignesse, that they are not to be knowne from these egges. The other birds
egges are speckled and of a different colour."

In a letter written from the 'Summer Islands/ Dec., 1614, by the
Rev. Lewis Hughes, the following account of the cahow occurs :

"Here is also plenty of sea foules, at one time of the yea,re, as about the
middle of October, Birds which we call cahouze and Pimlicoes come in. The
Cahouze continue til the beginning of June in great abundance, they are bigger
bodied than a Pigeon & of a very firm & good flesh. They are taken with ease
if one do but sit downe in a darke night, and make a noise, there will more
come to him then he shall be able to kill: some have told me that the^ have
taken twelve or fourteen dozen in an hower. When the Cahouze time is out,
other birds called noddies and sandie birds come in, and continue till the latter
end of August."

This is the only account that gives the time of its arrival and
departure.

The following extract is from Governor Butler's 'Historye,' written
about 1619 :

"For the cahowe (for so soundes his voice), it is a night bird, and all
the daye long lies liidd in holes of the rocks, whence both themselves and their
young are in great numbers extracted with ease, and prove (especially the
young) so pleaseinge in a dish, as ashamed I am to tell, how many dosen of
them have been devoured by some one of our northern stomacks, even at one
only meale."

This is the only original statement that I find, among the early
writings, that it lives in holes of rocks. It is possible, however, that it
lived in all available holes, either in those made in the soil by the
abundant land crabs or those found among rocks. It may not have
made its own burrows, when other holes were available. Captain John
Smith's account was compiled from those given above. He did not
visit Bermuda.

There are several references to this bird in the local laws of Ber-
muda. Even so early as 1616 a law was passed restricting the taking
of the bird and its eggs, because of the rapid decrease in its numbers.

It is thus referred to in Governor Butler's 'Historye.'

"In the same moneth he held his second generall Assize at St. George's, as
irregularly as the first, wherin not any matter of note was handled, only a
proclamation (or rather article, as it was then tearmed) was published (but
overlate) against the spoyle and havock of the cahowes, and other birds, which
already wer almost all of them killed and scared awaye very improvidently by
fire, diggeinge, stoneinge, and all kinds of murtheringes."

Among the laws enacted by the Bermuda Company, 1621-32, was
the following:

"The Governour, and other officers, shall take care for the preservation of
the breed of Birds, by reser\dng to them those Hands whereunto they resort."

This doubtless refers to the egg-birds as well as to the cahow. It
seems to have been almost or quite forgotten for over 200 years. In

26

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

1849, Mr. J. L. Hurdis visited Gurnet Eock or 'Gurnet Head Eock/ a
small, precipitous, and nearly inaccessible outlying island, situated off
Castle Harbor, and found there the nests of a shearwater in the crevices
of the rocks. He concluded that he had found and identified the long-
lost cahow.

His identification has been accepted by Capt. S. G. Eeid and
other later writers on the ornithology of the Bermudas, apparently
without any adequate consideration of the facts stated by the early
writers from personal observation. It has been assumed by nearly all
recent writers, though without any real evidence, that Gurnet (Head)

Ancient ruined kokt a un Gurnet's Head of Castle Island; 6, watki: ii^^ii.iiN, stii.j,

HOLDING water ; C, CATCHMENT SLOPE, BUILT OF SLABS OF LIMESTONE ;

d, Gurnet Head Rock; e, entrance to Castle Harbor.

Eock was the particular place, or at least one of the places, where the
cahow bred In old times. Perhaps this may be due to the name, but
it was called 'Gurnet Head Eock,' because it lies off 'Gurnet Head' on
Castle Island. The latter name was in use in 1619. Some of the early
writers say that it bred on some of the smaller iminhabited islands,
inaccessible to the wild hogs, without designating any particular one
(see Strachy's narrative). Governor Butler and the Eev. Lewis Hughes
say that a boat could go to its breeding places and get a load of the
bird and its eggs in a short time (see Strachy's account, above). This
was apparently done only in the night. Therefore the islands visited

THE STOEY OF THE CAHO^Y. 27

must haw been near at hand and easily accessible, with available and
safe landings, even in winter, when the eggs were sought. Gurnet Rock
does not fulfill any of these conditions. It is several miles from St.
George's, then the chief settlement and cajDital; it stands isolated out-
side all the other islands, so that it is exposed to the full force of the sea
on all sides and in December and January the sea is always boisterous
in these waters ; it has no place where a boat can safely land, unless in
nearly calm weather and by daylight; its sides are nearly perpen-
dicular, exceeding rough, high cliffs, which can hardly be scaled with-
out risk of loss of life or limbs, unless by means of ropes and ladders.
Moreover the top is of very small area and almost destitute of soil. So
that there is no possible chance for a bird like the cahow to burrow
there. The writer, with two companions, visited this island about the
first of May of this year, on a day when the sea was not very rough, and
the tide was low. We found it impossible to land except by stepping
out upon a narrow, slippery and treacherous reef of rotten rock and
corallines, covered with sea-weeds, exposed only at low tide, and stand-
ing a little away from the shore, with deep water between. The sea was
breaking over this reef, and it was difficult to wade ashore except at one
place, on account of the depth of water. With the aid of a long pole I
climbed partly up the side of the rock, at the only available place, and
though I did not reach the summit, I could, from my highest position,
see that there is no soil on the top, but only a few seaside shrubs and
herbaceous plants, growing from crevices of the rock. This was suffi-
cient to convince me that the cahow never bred on this rock, and, if it
had, the early settlers would never have gone there in the winter and
at night to get the eggs or birds.

It is far more probable that one of its breeding places was on Goat
Island, which is a larger, uninhabited island about half a mile inside
of Gurnet Eock, and with a beach of shell-sand on the inner side, where
boats can safelv land. Moreover on this island, in earlv times, there
was a deep deposit of sand and soil, which was subsequently used as a
burial place for soldiers who died in the old fortifications on this and
the adjacent Castle Island and Southampton Island. Indeed we found
two ancient human skeletons partly exposed in this bank of sand,
where it had been recently undermined by the sea. Evidently a large
amount of this sandy deposit, which contains fossil land snails, has
been washed away since the time when the old 'Charles Fort' was
built upon this island, about 1615. This old ruined fort was of small
size and apparently has been abandoned since about 1630. It has the
same size and form shown on Norwood's chart, published in 1626.
Norwood mentions, in 1663, that it had then 'fallen into decay.' Prob-
ably the cahow may have bred also on Castle Island, which is a larger
island a short distance inside Goat Island, and on Southampton Island,

28

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Gurnet's Head op Casti.e Inland, showing i'hofile at a; b, Southampton Island and

RUINS OF THE FORT, BUILT BOUT 1620; C, ENTRANCE TO CaSTLE IIaRBOR.

!i-i-

%^-

•fSdfea?

Goat Island (formerly Charles' Island), with ruins of Charles' Fort, built about 1615.

THE STORY OF THE CAHOW. 29

a little farther west. But these and other adjacent islands, including
Cooper's Island, were fortified between 1612 and 1620, and it is
probable that their occupation, at that time and later, was one of the
causes of the rapid extermination of the cahow and egg-birds. We en-
deavored to secure some bones of the cahow by digging in the rubbish
heaps about the old forts on Castle Island, but though we found
numerous bones of fishes, hogs, etc., and a few of birds, none appear to
belong to the cahow. But probably the deposits that we excavated
were of later date, for the Castle Island forts were again garrisoned
during the war of 1812. We found old silver and brass military
buttons, gun flints and the cores of flint nodules, from which they had
been chipped, with many other old relics, but nothing to indicate the
first period of occupation, from 1614 to 1625, when alone the cahow
might have formed a part of the rations.

In the 'Plain and True Eelation' by the Eev. Lewis Hughes, 1621,
there is a graphic account of the famine of 1615, from which the fol-
lowing extract is taken :

"The first night that I lay in the Hand, which you call Coopers Hand
(whither the lazie starving crewe were sent, and with them some honest
industrious persons, though then much out of heart, and now living, and well,
thanks unto God) when 1 saw in every Cabbin Pots and kettles full of birds
boyling, and some on spits rosting, and the silly wilde birds comming so tame
into my cabbin and goe so familiarly betweene my feet, and round about the
cabbin, and into the fire, with a strange lamentable noyse, as though they did
bemoan us, and bid us take, kill, roast, and eate them : I was much amazed, and
at length said within myselfe, surely the tameness of these wilde birds, and
their oflFring of themselves to be taken, is a manifest token of the goodnesse of
God even of his love, his care, his mercy and power working together, to save
this people from starving. Mr. Moore then Governour, fearing that their over-
eating themselves would be their destruction, did remove them from thence to
Port Royoll, where they found but little or no want; for, birds they had there
also, brought to them, every weeke, from the Hands adjoyning, whither some
were sent of purpose to bird for them."

This account of the habits of the cahow would not, in the least,
apply to the shearwater. It is probable, however, that the latter is
identical with the nocturnal bird called 'Pimlico' by the early settlers.

The following extract from the 'Historye' by Governor Nathaniel
Butler, written about 1619, relates to the famine of 1615, and shows
some of the causes of the very rapid extermination of the birds :

"Whilst this Pinnace was on her way for England, scarcetie and famine
every day more and more prevayleinge upon the sickly colony, caused the
governour to look well about him ; in the beginning of the newe yeare, therefore
(1615), 150 persons, of the most ancient, sick, and weake, wer sent into
Coopers Hand, ther to be relieved by the comeinge in of the sea-birds, especially
the Cahowes, wher, by this half hunger-starved company, they are found in
infinite numbers, and with all so tame and amazed they are, that upon the
least howeteinge or noyee, they would fall downe, and light upon their shoulders

VOL. LX. — 2**

30 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

as tliey went, and leggs as they satt, suffering themselves to be caught faster
than they could be killed." "Wittnesse the generall carriage and behaviour of
this company, who being thus arrived and gott up to a libertie and choice of
eateing as much as they would, how monstrous was it to see, how greedily
everything was swallowed downe; how incredible to speake, how many dozen
of thoes poore silly creatures, that even offered themselves to the slaughter,
wer tumbled downe into their bottomlesse mawes: wherupon (as the sore effect
of so ranck a cause, the birds with all being exceedeingly fatt) then sodenly
followed a generall surfettinge, much sicknesse, and many of their deathes."

The chances of finding bones of the cahow would probably be
better on Cooper's Island than elsewhere, if the above narratives of
Governor Butler and Mr. Hughes were correct. That the latter referred
to the cahow, though he did not mention the name of the 'silly birds,'
may be properly inferred, because of the season, 'beginning of the
newe yeare,' when the large party of starving settlers was sent there for
food. The egg-birds did not arrive until the first of May. This
famine and the sending of a large number of starving persons to feed
on the defenceless birds, at their breeding season, was unquestionably
the direct and principal cause of their rapid extermination, for it was
during the very next year (1616) that the first law was passed, 'but
overlate,' restricting the 'spoyle and havock of the cahowes.' We were
unable, for lack of time, to dig for the bones of the cahow on Cooper's
Island. The loose ground there is full of the holes of two species of
large land crabs. Such holes may have served the cahow for nesting
places.

PSYCHIATRY. 31

PSYCHIATRY— ANCIENT, MEDIEVAL AND MODERN.

By FREDERICK LYMAN HILLS, M.D.,

NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE HOSPITAL.

"Forth from my sad and darksome cell,
Or from the deepe abysse of hell,
ilad Tom is come into the world againe
To see if he can cure his distempered braine."

—Old Tom O'Bedlam Song, XVII. century.

A MONG the acliievements of the nineteenth century none surpass
-^--^ the revolution wrought in the field of psychiatry. The care
of the insane to-day excites the interest not only of philanthropists
and alienists, but of all right-minded men and women. "No reflecting
mind/' says Letchworth, "can be indifferent to the question of making
proper public provision for the treatment and care of those afiiicted
with an insidious disease from which no measure of intellectual or
physical strength or worldly prosperity affords any certain immunity
— a disease, which, prone to feed upon excitement, finally transforms
the noblest faculties of our race into a wreck so appalling that in its
contemplation the human intelligence becomes bewildered and dis-
mayed. At no time in the history of civilization has the importance
of this subject been more thoroughly acknowledged; and probably at
no time have influences contributory to mental derangement been
more powerful than they are to-day." It is eminently profitable at
this time to review the treatment of the insane in ancient days, to
recall the misfortunes of the unhappy madman during the dark ages
of history, and to note the gradual evolution of the psychiatric science
of to-day.

Going back into the very dawn of history we find scattered refer-
ences to the treatment of madness, which was looked upon as a punish-
ment by the gods or ascribed to demoniacal possession. The earliest
known historical reference to insanity occurs in Egyptian papyri of the
fifteenth century B, C. In one of these, according to Mahaffy, music
is spoken of as employed in the treatment of insanity, and many
formulae are given for the cure of diseases caused by an evil spirit
dwelling within the body. Probably the next earliest record is that
found in Hebrew history, referring to the same therapeutic agent, this
time used to calm the troubled spirit of Saul (1055 B. C). In the
first book of Samuel we read: "When the evil spirit was upon Saul,
that David took a harp and played with his hand; so Saul was re-

32 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

freshed and was well and the evil spirit departed from him." The
legendary history of Greece affords numerous instances of madness, but
as to the treatment in these early times there is only eloquent silence.
The belief in demoniacal possession was prevalent among all primitive
peoples, furnishing a clue for such treatment as was anywhere at-
tempted, and this belief, giving way a few centuries later to a partial
realization of the physical basis of insanity in the best medical minds,
recurs again in the darkness and decadence of the middle ages but
magnified and rendered terrible by the ignorance and gross super-
stitions of the time. In ancient Egypt, demons were exorcized and
lunatics purified in temples dedicated to Saturn. The god Khons is
said to have answered prayers for the cure of an Asiatic princess. The
priests of Egypt, who were also physicians of the day, were not un-
mindful of the benefit of hygienic measures and combined with them
the charm of music and the influence of the beautiful in nature and
in art.

No reference is made in the literature of antiquity to places
set apart for the care of the insane. In Greece they were sometimes
cared for by the priests in the temple of Aesculapius. More often they
were detained at home by their friends if dangerous, or allowed, if
mild, the freedom of the country unrestrained and unmolested. Many
of the soothsayers, sorcerers and sibyls of these days were undoubtedly
insane, and the mental condition of some was known to those who
sought their offices. Restraining devices were generally used in all
violent forms of madness. Herodotus relates that Cleomenes (519-491
B. C), king of Lacedaemon, becoming insane, was imprisoned by his
kindred and his feet put in the stocks. While so bound he asked the
man left to watch him for a knife. This being refused he began to
threaten the man, who, becoming frightened, gave him the knife and
. he at once made repeated gashes in his limbs and abdomen until he
died.

In the time of Euripides (480-406 B. C.) it would appear from
his account of the madness of Hercules that madmen were bound with
cords and fastened to the nearest convenient spot. Hippocrates, the
Father of Medicine (460-377 B. C), described three forms of mental
disease and seems to have recognized alcoholic insanity. He was the
first to lay stress upon the physical basis of insanity and ridicules the
treatment given by the priests. He used phlebotomy, purgatives,
emetics, baths, a vegetable diet, exercise, music and travel. He regu-
lated the use of hellebore, a drug held in high esteem from the dawn
of history. Writing to Democrates he said : "Hellebore when given to
the sane, pours darkness over the mind, but to the insane it is very
profitable." This drug was believed to act powerfully in cleansing and
invigorating the intellectual faculties. It is said that Carniades, the

PSYCHIATRY. 33

Academic, when preparing to refute the dogmas of the Stoics, went
through a course of purgatives by hellebore. Melampus, son of
Amythaon, is said to have cured the daughters of Proetus, King of
Argos, of melancholy, by purging them with hellebore. According to
tradition Melampus had observed that the goats who fed on this plant
were purged, and having administered it to the king's daughters, who
were wandering in the woods under the delusion that they were cows,
he cured them and received the hand of one of them in marriage and
a part of the kingdom of Argos as his reward. So celebrated was this
medicinal agent as a mental remedy that the poets of antiquity sang
its praises. Horace, in allusion to the 'happy madman,' says :

He, when his friends at much expense and pains,
Had amply purged T\-ith hellebore his brains.
Came to himself — "Ah, cruel friends!" he cried,
"Is this to save me? Better far had died
Than thus be robbed of pleasure so refined,
The dear delusion of a raptured mind."

Persius thus addresses Xero in his fourth satire, telling him to
relinquish the arduous duties of government:

"Thou hast not strength, such labors to sustain.
Drink hellebore, my boy — drink deep and purge thy brain."

Hippocrates had his patients collect this medicine themselves at
Anticyra, in Thessaly, and thus made its use an incident of a very
hygienic course of treatment. In cases of suicidal melancholia he
employed mandragora, first spoken of by him in the treatment of this
disease.

The attitude of the state toward the care of the insane at the period
soon after the death of Hippocrates is thus expressed by Plato (375
B. C.) in 'Laws of the Republic': "If any one is insane, let him not
be seen, openly in the city, but let the relatives of such a person watch
over him at home in the best manner they know and if they are negli-
gent let them pay a fine."

The teachings of Hippocrates and his followers were probably the
guide for those who had to do with the insane during the next two cen-
turies, and nothing further appears in medical literature until the care-
ful study of insanity made by Asclepiades of Bythinia (100 B. C). He
distinguished between illusions and hallucinations, noted the changing
mental states of individual cases and made some innovations in the
treatment. He recommended his patients to be placed in the light
rather than confined in dark rooms or cells, disapproved of venesec-
tion, and of the fomentations of poppy, mandragora or hyoscyamus.
He prescribed abstinence from food, drink and sleep in the early part
of the day; the drinking of water in the evening; that gentle friction

VOL. LX. 3.

34 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

should be employed and, later on, liquid nourishment should be ad-
ministered and the friction repeated. By these means it was his hope
to induce sleep. Themison, his disciple, prescribed a more liberal
diet, baths and astringent fomentations. Another of his disciples
recommended stripes in the treatment of the insane, but it is doubtful
if this was sanctioned by the master. Asclepiades also attempted sub-
stitutive medication, advising intoxication in the general treatment of
insanity.

Celsus (A. D. 5) formulated wise rules for the hygienic and moral
treatment, but unfortunately advised also the use of hunger, chains
and chastisements to subjugate the patient. He would have those
scolded whose mirth was excessive and resort to torment should con-
ciliation fail. To startle a patient suddenly, to terrify him, this was
excellent. But he directed that all things possible should be done to
divert the melancholy and to excite cheerful hopes. Pleasure should
be sought in fables and in sports, in music and in reading aloud. To
quiet the excited and to favor sleep, he made use of a rocking motion
and the sound of a waterfall.

Aretaeus (A. D. 80) gave a detailed description of mania and
melancholia, considering the latter to be the incipient stage of the
former. Little is known as to his methods of treatment, except that
he does not mention restraint in his descriptions.

Galen (A. D. 150), the celebrated advocate of the humoral
pathology, gives little as to treatment, but his theory of insanity is
interesting. Moisture, he says, produces fatuity, dryness sagacity,
and therefore the sagacity of a man will be diminished in proportion
to the excess of moisture over dryness. Therefore preserve a happy
medium between these opposite qualities, use venesection if you think
the whole body of the patient contains melancholy blood. Bleeding
must be avoided if madness arise from idiopathic disease of the brain.

Then follows Coelius Aurelianus (A. D. 195), leaving a most
remarkable treatise on the treatment of insanity, preaching gentle-
Eess and humanity, skilled attendance and non- restraint. He thus ex-
presses himself regarding the physicians who resort to harsh methods
of treatment: "They seem rather to lose their own reason than to be
disposed to cure their patients, when they liken them to wild beasts
who must be tamed by the deprivation of food and the torments of
thirst. They go so far as to counsel bodily violence and blows, as if
to compel the return of reason by such provocations, a deplorable
method of treatment that can only aggravate the patients' condition,
injure them physically, and offer to them the miserable remembrance
of their sufferings whenever they recover the use of their reason." He
taught that the patient should be put in a quiet room, moderately
warm and light, excluding everything of an exciting nature. The bed

PSYCHIATRY. 35

should be firm and fixed to the floor and should have a straw mattress.
The attendants should be carefully instructed. "If the sight of other
persons irritates them and only in very rare instances, restraint by
tying may be employed, but with the greatest precaution, without any
unnecessary force, and after carefully protecting all the joints and
with especial care to use only restraining apparatus of a soft and deli-
cate texture, since means of repression employed without judgment
increase and may give rise to furor instead of repressing it." He
used fomentation by applying warm moist sponges over the eyelids to
relax them and influence the circulation in the membranes of the
brain. He advised emollient and astringent applications, the latter
made of galls, alum, etc., soothing and invigorating poultices, baths
of oil and natural hot baths. He denounced abstinence and ordered a
full diet. He spoke against the practice of making the patient in-
toxicated, the use of hellebore, of aloes and of venesection. During
convalescence he recommended farming, walking, riding, singing and
theatrical entertainments. In the latter scenes of a solemn and tragic
character were to be enacted to guard against excitement.

With the passing of Galen and Coelius Aurelianus the sun goes
down into the black clouds of ignorance succeeding the fall of the
Eoman Empire; and the lunatic is left to drag out a miserable ex-
istence, generally neglected and alone throughout the dark centuries
following, to and through the middle ages. There is a fitful gleam
faintly illuminating the scene momentarily as when Alexander of
Tralles (A. D. 560), or Paulus Aegineta (A. D. 630) reiterates the
teachings of Aurelianus, but they lay stress more upon the medicinal
than the hygienic treatment and are forgetful of his admonitions
against chains and imprisonment. The earliest hospital for the insane
known was founded in Jerusalem in the fifth century as a refuge for
anchorites whose minds became affected through their penances.

The middle ages are defined by Hallam as dating from the invasion
of France by Clovis at the end of the fifth century to the invasion of
Naples by Charles VIII. at the end of the fifteenth. During the first
half of this period there seems scarcely to have been any intellectual
or political development. The whole of Europe was, almost without
exception, sunk in the darkest ignorance and the most wretched bar-
barism. In some countries the awakening was earlier than in others,
but the darkness did not anywhere die out at once. As gradually the
clouds began to lift and the signs of returning light were here and
there discernible only a fraction of a special class, a limited portion
of the clergy, were in any way affected, and the mass remained for long
bound down by servility, ignorance and superstition. "The struggle
among the races for the possession of the countries that had been
loosed from the Eoman yoke," says Sibbald, '"continued for centuries

36 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to make the state of war persistent and almost universal." When
not in conflict with their neighbors, the constant friction and strife
within the individual states still prevented organization and natural
development. "In such a state of society little thought could be
bestowed on anything which did not directly relate to the fierce strug-
gle for very life in wliich every state and every individual was en-
gaged." There was no time for philanthropy, for the care of the suffer-
ing, for the relief of the poor, for comforting the sick in body or
mind. Slowly the leaven of Christianity was at work, a silent force
effecting slow but deep-rooted changes in the constitution of society,
beginning about the eleventh century to gradually bring about the
abolition of slavery and exerting an influence in instituting some sort
of provision for those whose mental condition was thought to be the
result of disease. The monks were also the physicians during the dark
ages and the monasteries offered quiet retreat and seclusion for many
insane, together with sympathy and protection which could not be
found elsewhere. Spiritual agencies were everywhere popularly be-
lieved to be most efficacious in the cure of madness, and many and long
were the pilgrimages made to the shrines of those saints who were be-
lieved to have special influence over the mentally afflicted, and many
miraculous cures were said to have been brought about through exor-
cism and prayer. There were many wells through Europe and the
British Isles, each with its particular saint, to which the insane were
brought to bathe and to pray. At St. Nim's Pool in England, it was
the custom to plunge the patients backwards into the water and drag
them to and fro until their excitement was subdued. If they showed
signs of recovery thanks were offered in a neighboring church, but if
not, the treatment was continued until no hope remained. From the
seventh century even to the present day lunatics have made pilgrim-
ages to the shrine of St. Dymphna at Gheel, and here the first colony
for the insane originated through a slow process of evolution, and
stands to-day as the best representative of the coimnunity or family
system of caring for the insane.

So great a part did superstition and religious bigotry play in the
treatment of insanity that the estate of the lunatic grew ever worse.
Any man who exhibited anything unusual in conduct or language was
at once suspected by his neighbors of necromancy or commerce with
the Devil and looked upon with suspicion. Any manifestation of
peculiar genius, the display of inventive ability or promulgation
of a new doctrine rendered a man liable to torture, imprisonment or
death. The belief in demoniacal possession, and witchcraft, was dis-
tinctly recognized in the Bible and fostered by the church. All over
Europe persons undoubtedly insane were burned or hanged as witches
or were whipped in the public squares to drive out the evil spirits.

PSYCHIATRY. 37

Pope Innocent VIII. in 1488 appointed inquisitors in every country
armed with apostolic power to find and punish those of whom he thus
declared : "It has come to our ears that numbers of both sexes do not
avoid to have intercourse with the infernal fiends, and that by their
sorceries they afflict both man and beast. They blight the marriage
bed ; destroy the births of women, and the increase of cattle, they blast
the corn in the ground, the grape in the vineyard, the fruit of the trees,
and the grass and herbs of the field." Thus stimulated by the church
the search for persons punishable for these crimes was everywhere suc-
cessful. It is probable that one-fourth of the 40,000 persons executed
for witchcraft during the first eighty years of the seventeenth cen-
tury in England alone were insane. Among the thousands of persons
tortured, burned and hanged as heretics there were doubtless many
who, infected by surrounding fanaticism and carried away by excep-
tional beliefs, were really the victims of mental disease.

Persons afflicted with the more quiet forms of insanity without
excitement were often regarded as suffering in punishment for sin and
were accordingly treated by fasting, pilgrimages and self-castigation.
Some, the possessors of a certain shrewdness and drollery, were received
into private houses and cared for, partly from charity, and partly
because of the amusement to be derived from their eccentric speech and
conduct. The conditions were practically the same in all European
countries with the exception of Italy and Spain, where insane asylums
were established during the latter part of the middle ages.

The Mohammedans preceded the Christians in the establisliment of
asylums for the insane, and it is probable that as early as 1300 A. D.
this form of charity was general in Mohammedan countries. A writer
of the seventh century notices the existence of several such institutions
at Fez. The asylum in Cairo was founded in 1304 A. D. Whether
or not the Christians obtained the idea of the organization of such
asylums from the Mohammedans, it is of interest to note that they
are first found in Europe among those nations nearest to the Moham-
medans and most subject to their influence. To Spain is due the
honor of establishing the first asylum in Christian Europe for the
care of the insane exclusively. This was opened in Valencia in 1409
A. D. by a monk, Juan Gilaberto Joffre, who was moved by com-
passion on seeing maniacs driven through the streets by hooting
crowds of men and boys. The treatment in these early establishments
amounted to little more than seclusion and restraint, though the
monks in charge of the asylum at Saragossa, established in 1425
A. I)., had some conception of a rational open air treatment. Asyhmis
were also opened at Seville and Valladolid in 1436 A. D. and at
Toledo in 1483 A. D. "Two other very honorable facts may be men-
tioned," says Lecky, "establishing the preeminence of Spanish charity

38 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in this field. The first is that tlie oldest lunatic asylum in the metrop-
olis of Catholicism was that erected by the Spaniards in 1548. The
second is, that, when at the close of the eighteenth century, Pinel
began his great labors in this sphere, he pronounced Spain to be the
country in which lunatics were treated with most wisdom and most
humanity."'

In the twelfth century madmen were taken to St. Bartholomew's
in London and, according to the monkish narratives many wonderful
cures were effected. Up to the sixteenth century monasteries and
prisons and ecclesiastical hospitals contained cells into which lunatics
were received, but it is probable that they were given little care or
treatment and that the public at large was the chief beneficiary by
their incarceration. In 1547 the first lunatic asylum not under eccle-
siastical administration was established in England. The priory for
the order of St. Mary of Bethlehem founded by Simon Fitzmary, a
sheriff of London, in 1247, in St. Botolph's without Bishopsgate, Lon-
don, had for a century and a half been used for the reception of
lunatics. In this year the institution, for long before called Bedlam,
was transferred by Henry the VIII. to the authorities of the city,
with an order that it be converted into a house for the reception of
lunatics. It stood in an out of the way place, close to many common
sewers and accommodated but fifty or sixty patients. For very many
years, however, the place remained a 'horrible prison,' says Sibbald,
'and not a hospital in any sense of the word.' "Up to the year 1770
the patients were exhibited to the public like wild beasts in cages, on
payment of a penny, and they are said to have afforded much sport to
the visitors who flocked to see them in numbers estimated at not less
than 48,000 annually. Some whose condition was so ameliorated that
they were no longer considered dangerous to the public were licensed
to go begging. On their left arm was placed an armilla — an iron ring
for the arm about four inches long, which they could not get off'."
"They wore about their necks," says Aubrey, as quoted by Disraeli, "a
great horn of an ox in a sling or bawdry, which when they came to a
house they did wind; and they put the drink given them into this
horn, whereto they put a stopple." In a Tom of Bedlam song which
dates from the first part of the seventeenth century, the comforts of his
asylum life are thus alluded to by the licentiated beggar :

In the lovely lofts of Bedham
In stubble soft and dainty,
Brave bracelets strong.
Sweet whips ding dong,
And a wholesome hunger plenty.

About 1675 when the licensing of beggar lunatics was stopped by
law, a new Bedlam three times the capacity of the old was erected in

PSYCHIATRY. 39

Moorfields, the necessity for increased accommodations becoming
greater 'as the country came more and more into systematic govern-
ment and as the wholesale burning of such unfortunate persons as
wizards or witches died out.'

Little appeared in medical literature during this period upon the
care of the insane. Daniel Sennert (1572-1637) wrote sensibly upon
mania and melancholia, but left nothing as to treatment, except to
bleed and to purge. Sydenham (1624—1689) had little to say on
mental affections. An adherent to the current doctrine, he attributed
insanity to a disabling of the 'animal spirits' by a prolonged fermen-
tation. He prescribed a cordial of Venice treacle, containing the flesh
and broths of vipers, amber and sixty-one more ingredients in Canary
wine and honey to be given three times a day, the patient to remain
in bed and to be liberally supplied with liquids. For ordinary mania
he ordered the withdrawal of nine ounces of blood on two or three
occasions with three days' interval between each bleeding. A course of
pills of colocynth and scammony followed, and on the days when the
patient did not take the pills he was to have an electuary composed of
conserve of monk's rhubarb, rosemary, candied angelica and other
pleasant ingredients.

Something more rational was attempted in Paris when by an Act
of Parliament in 1660 the insane passed through two wards, especially
reserved for them in Hotel Dieu, the ward St. Louise for men con-
taining ten beds for four each and two small beds ; the ward St. Martin
for women containing six large beds and six small ones. Treatment
here was by means of douches, cold baths, repeated bleedings, hellebore,
purgatives and antispasmodics. If there was no improvement in a few
weeks they were sent to the Petits Maisons, the Salpetriere or the
Bicetre, where they were kept clothed in rags, confined by chains,
poorly fed, bedded on rotten straw, often in cells infected with disease.
As in England on holidays they were exposed to the gaze of the public,
admitted for a small fee as to a menagerie. In 1667 Dennis, in Paris,
successfully employed transfusion of blood taken from a calf in the
case of a young man insane after an unhappy love affair.

The early years of the eighteenth century saw the gradual evolution
of the asylum idea and the slow increase in the number of establish-
ments for the insane, founded not only by the state but by private
individuals. The condition of the insane in the latter was particularly
distressing for many years, and, even until well on in the last cen-
tury, many of them were more to be dreaded than the larger public
asylums.

Dean Swift had in mind the foundation of a hospital for the
insane as early as 1731 when he wrote the verses on his own death and
described his determination thus.

40 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

He gave the little wealth he had
To build a house for fools and mad;
And shewed by one satiric touch,
No nation wanted it so much.

This object he had afterward always in mind, and, although suffer-
ing much for several years and his mind finally becoming affected in
1742, he made plans for its establishment and, dying in 1745, left his
whole property, about $60,000, for the founding of St. Patrick's Hos-
pital in Dublin, which was opened in 1757 for the reception of fifty
patients.

The methods of treatment employed in the middle of the eighteenth
century are thus set forth by Dr. Eichard Mead, physician to George
II. in his "Medical Works" (1762). "Authors, both ancient and
modern, recommend a great number of medicines, some which are suit-
able to maniacal, others to melancholy patients; but both sorts agree
in the property of correcting the bile, which is acrid at first, then be-
comes viscid and black as pitch. Moreover the very blood in this dis-
order is thick, fizy and black. Now it will be observed that most of the
medicines proper to be given in this disease are in some degree
endowed with the property of opening and scouring the glands and in-
creasing perspiration. Of this kind are the strong-smelling gums,
specially asafoetida, myrrh, Eussian castor, and camphire, which last
is asserted to have an anodyne quality and to procure sleep with greater
certainty and safety than opium. In melancholic cases chalybeats are
also very proper. In fine, a frequent use of the cold bath is very ser-
viceable, especially in maniacal cases. For nothing, as Celsus says, is
of such benefit to the head as cold water." He cautions against the
use of stripes or other rough treatment as unnecessary, binding alone
being sufficient to restrain the maniacal, who ^are all cowards.' He
attempted to stop the ill-timed fits of laughter of some by chiding and
threatening; to dissipate the gloomy thought of others by music and
such diversion as they formerly took delight in. He cautioned the
physician to attend carefully to the free action of the bowels and kid-
neys and instead of applying blisters to the head he says, "Better in
imitation of the ancients to shave the head, and then rub it with
vinegar in which rose flowers or ground-ivy leaves have been infused;
and also to make a drain by passing a seton in the nape of the neck,
which is to be rubbed with a proper digestive ointment and moved a
little every day, in order to give a free issue to the purulent matter." He
ordered slender diet, mostly of gruels and meats easy of digestion, dis-
approved of giving anodynes to procure sleep and recommended walk-
ing, riding, playing at ball, swimming and travel by land or sea in con-
valescence.

The latter part of the eighteenth century witnessed an awakening

PSYCHIATRY. 41

of the minds of men throughout the civilized and enlightened nations
of the world to a realization of the man's duty to his fellow man. The
dissemination of knowledge among the people was gradually killing
out the grosser forms of superstition, holding such a hypnotic influence
over the ignorant. The spirit of liberty, fraternity and equality was
abroad. With this zeal for the acquirement of knowledge, the spirit
of investigation and the kindling of enthusiasm for scientific research,
philanthropic ideas began to develop in men's minds, pity for the suf-
fering and the unfortunate and a desire to better the condition of all.
Prison reform was agitated, hospitals were organized for the sick in
body. The treatment of the insane was made a matter for legislative
investigation and although little or nothing was done toward the im-
mediate relief of their condition, yet public sentiment was being slowly
aroused in their behalf. Gradually the light of a brighter day was
dawning. The propriety of abusive treatment, of cruelty, of chains,
of stripes, formerly regarded as essential for the control of the maniac,
or looked upon with indifference, was now brought into question.
Much was written relative to insanity during this period but no
decided step was taken for the betterment of conditions until near the
close of the century when the noble-hearted Tuke, in England, and
the brave Pinel, in France, started the grand reform, broke the fetters
and brought the great restorative, hope, to stimulate the weakened
mind.

The York Asylum, founded by general subscription in 1777, for
'the decent maintenance and relief of such insane persons as were in
low circumstances' was, about 1791, the worst among the bad institu-
tions in England. In this year a young woman, a member of the
Society of Friends was committed to the York Asylum. Her friends
were denied the privilege of seeing her and in a few weeks she died.
Her death arousing suspicion of improper treatment among the
Friends, one of their number, Mr. William Tuke, "resolved (1792) to
establish an institution in which there would be no secrecy and where
the patients would have humane and judicious care." Thus was the
Retreat at York established and, in 1796, launched upon its memorable
career, continuing from the first a leader in psychiatric progress.

The year 1792 also is made memorable by the appointment of
Philip Pinel as physician to the insane at the Bicetre. Coming to this
position a trained alienist, he was deeply stirred by the condition of
the men confined there, fifty of them in chains, many for a long period
of years. His repeated and persistent appeals to the Commune for
authority to release them from their bonds were finally given a reluctant
affirmative answer, and in the end he was able to remove the chains
from all the patients and to continue the good work at the Salpetriere,
an institution exclusively for women.

42 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Turning now to our own country we find the care of the insane in
the American colonies prior to the Revolution to differ in no way from
the treatment during the same period in Europe. In the Old Colony
Laws of Plymouth (1660) provision was made that persons who com-
mit suicide "shall be denied the privilege of being buried in the
common burying place of Christians, but shall be buried in some com-
mon highway, where the selectmen of the town where such persons did
inhabit, shall appoint, and a cartload of stones laid upon the grave, as
a brand of infamy, and as a warning to others to aware of the like
damnable practice." In jails, almshouses and the outhouses of private
dwellings, the insane were kept, often in chains and in filth, and
deprived of light and proper warmth. No attempt was made toward
special provision for them until 1745, when an asylum was erected
in New York City, on the spot where the City Hall now stands, for
the reception of the 'indigent poor, the sick, the orphan, the maniac
and the refractory.' But the first institution in America for the
remedial treatment of the insane was founded in 1751 in connection
with the Pennsylvania Hospital. Being opened 1752, "it was," says
Kirkbride, "for a long period of years far in advance of all other
receptacles for the insane in the United States, and, having the advan-
tage of physicians like Bond, Shippen, Push, Wister, Physick and
others of equal ability, its wards were constantly filled, and its advan-
tages eagerly sought by patients from the most distant parts of the
Union."

It is noteworthy that, besides Dr. Thomas Bond, of Philadelphia,
and Benjamin Franklin, the Society of Friends was active in the
inception of this hospital, a society later to be influential in the estab-
lishment of the York Retreat in England and the Friends Asylum at
Frankfort, Pa. (1813), showing in these early times a more enlight-
ened philanthropy than any other religious body and giving the im-
petus to a movement which in the early years of the nineteenth cen-
tury was to effect a revolution in the treatment of the insane.

The first governmental institution in America was erected by
the province of Virginia at Williamsburgh in 1773 ; but it was not until
the era of peace and quietude following the wars of the Revolution
and of 1812, and after the successful inauguration of the state gov-
ernments that public sentiment became thoroughly aroused to the
necessity of better care for these unfortunates, and state institutions
sprang into existence. During the thirty years following the war of
J.812 twenty-three public and private asylums were opened in the
United States.

The treatment at this time was largely influenced by the writing
of Dr. Benjamin Rush, a man of great intelligence and benevolence
whose 'Observations on Diseases of the Mind' (1812) contained much of

PSYCHIATRY. 43

value as to the moral treatment of the insane, but who was behind Pinel
in realizing the advantage of kind treatment and the harmfulness of
restraint. "A prevailing error found in his writings on insanit}^,"
says a writer in the "^American Journal of Insanity' (Vol. 4) "is that
the insane are to be disciplined and governed, that those who have the
care of them must obtain dominion over them by fear or by other
means that we may think improper." He says that the physician on
entering the chamber of the deranged person should first 'catch his
eye and look him out of countenance.' After trying many ways to
obtain obedience he says, "If these prove ineffectual to establish a
government over deranged persons, recourse should be had to certain
modes of coercion." Among them were the straight jacket, the tran-
quilizing chair (invented by a Dr. Darwin and consisting of a stout
post revolving on a pivot and bearing a chair into which the patient
was bound in the longitudinal position when a sedative effect was desired
or in an erect position to secure intestinal action), the withdrawal of
pleasant food and pouring cold water down the coat sleeves. "If all
these modes of punishment should fail of the intended effect," he adds,
*'it will be proper to resort to the fear of death."

But the man who did more than any other, probably, to forward
the humane care of the insane, was Esquirol, who succeeded Pinel at
the Salpetriere in 1810. Devoting himself with zeal and with single-
ness of purpose to this ministration, he brought about still greater
reforms in the housing, the regimen and medical care of the insane,
and in 1817 gave the first course of lectures ever delivered on insanity.
These were largely attended every year by physicians from all countries.
He traveled through France investigating ever3^iere the condition of
the insane, arousing the interest of the magistrates and, through his
reports to the superior authorities, causing the abolition of many abuses
and much misery. He saw ten asylums opened in France and the
insane taken from 'their narrow, filthy cells, without light and air,
fastened with chains in these dens,' in which he found them, and
placed in asylums where the use of chains was abandoned, where
walks and gardens were accessible, and where beds and good food were
provided and the attendants did not go 'armed with sticks and accom-
panied by dogs.'

The same spirit of progress was now abroad in every enlightened
•country of Europe and in America. Asylums were built, treatises upon
mental medicine became more numerous, classification of mental dis-
ease and more careful clinical studies were attempted, societies were
organized for the study of insanity and periodicals appeared whose
pages were given wholly to the discussion of psychiatric subjects and
the propagation of the new doctrines.

"In the period which elapsed from 1830 to 1850," says Letchworth,

44 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

"'great and rapid advances were made throughout the United States in
methods of caring for the insane. The reforms then accomplished
attracted the attention of Europe, and it may be said, without any
egotism, that they were in advance of contemporary progress in other
countries." Much of this reform was due to the exertions of Dorothea
L. Dix, wlio about 1837 began a career of remarkable success in arous-
ing public attention and securing legislative action for the betterment
of the condition of the insane. She is said to have been influential
in the establishment of thirty-two asylums for the insane. But
unfortunately this high standard of achievement was not maintained.
During the civil war and the early period of reconstruction this reform
suifered a reaction, and the country failed to keep pace with the
progressive movement in other lands. Within the last thirty years of
the century, however, rapid advance was made, and to-day the standard
of work done for the insane in America is not lower than that attained
in other countries.

The period of large and imposing buildings, palatial in exterior
appearance, has passed. The buildings erected twenty or thirty years
ago were uniformly massive, three- or four-story structures, the interiors
often monotonous and cheerless. To-day the tendency is to place the
patient in surroundings as cheerful and homelike as possible. To have
smaller buildings, comfortably furnished, with pictures on the walls,
with books, games and the means for light amusements and employ-
ment. No longer is the patient forced to pace ceaselessly long cheerless
corridors, the walls lined with benches and heavy chairs and bare of all
adornment.

Now, instead of large blocks of buildings, the modern hospital con-
sists of a group of cottages, best of two stories, separated or connected
by a low corridor. Here the patients are separated into small groups
carefully classified as to their mental condition. These buildings are
surrounded by nicely kept grounds, with green lawns dotted with
shrubbery and flowers. There are groves to afford a shady retreat, and
here the patients spend much time every pleasant day. Many of them
have the parole of the grounds and come and go without oversight.
Freedom is allowed as far as is consistent with safety. In many places
the usual iron gratings have been removed from the windows and doors
left unlocked.

But the institutions for the insane of to-day are not places merely
of detention. The insane asylum, except for the chronic cases, in most
states both here and abroad, has passed away and in its place has arisen
a hospital to which the patient comes as a sick mxan to have the kind
care and systematic treatment that the word hospital implies. He
is received and cared for by nurses trained to the work and is at once
impressed with the idea that he is a sick man, so regarded by his fellow

PSYCHIATRY. 45

men, if not cognizant of it himself, and that he is to have done for
him what careful nursing, hygienic surroundings and medical science
can do. The perfection to which this system has attained varies much
in different states; but all are tending to the same end, and ere long
the care of the acute insane in all enlightened lands will be based upon
the same scientific plan. At the present time in Europe and America
there is great activity within the walls of the hospitals for the insane.
The study of the individual patient is more thorough than ever before.
Not only are his mental symptoms diligently watched and recorded,
but a careful systematic examination of all his bodily functions is
undertaken. For this purpose laboratories are equipped and men
trained to microscopical and chemical analysis are being more and
more employed to carry on the work. The study of the physiology and
pathology of the nervous system is being assiduously pursued and
recent epoch-making discoveries in tissue-staining have stimulated this
work, causing almost a revolution in the theories of nervous action ; and
it would seem that a better understanding of the functioning of the
central nervous system was dawning. The defects of distant organs,
of the blood vessels, the blood, the lymph and all abnormal bodily con-
ditions, are known to often have a deleterious effect upon the nervous
system and improvement in the mental condition to be coincident with
their removal. The physician and the surgeon, the neurologist, the
psychologist, the chemist and the pathologist are all at work hand in
hand with the alienist to cure him who is the unhappy victim of mental
disease.

In the modern hospital such moral measures are brought into
operation as the companionship of a kind and congenial nurse, cheerful
environment, the use of the minimum amount of restraint consistent
with safety and efforts to amuse and divert the attention of the patient
away from himself and his troubles, the attempt to arouse an interest
in some light employment and the suggestive influence of a hopeful
spirit. The therapeutic effect of exercise, massage, hydrotherapy and
electrical influence are all called into use, and the medical treatment is
directed to any complicating disorder of the bodily functions, l^o part
is overlooked. The physical machine is restored as far as possible to
working order in the hope that mental restoration will be the conse-
quence. In a hospital thus conducted harsh or abusive treatment
means the immediate dismissal of the offender.

The selection of an efficient corps of attendants is a matter of
the greatest importance. Much improvement has been brought about
by the establishment of training schools in hospitals for the insane
with systematic instruction in the duties of the nurse. In a large and
well organized institution an attendant entering the school is in a
position to obtain instruction of so much general usefulness in the

46 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

treatment of the sick that the hospital benefits not only by the more
efficient service rendered, but also by the attraction of a superior class
of applicants for the positions. "Much has been accomplished in
rescuing the insane from chains, gloomy cells and scourgings," says
Letchworth, "but the measure of reform in their behalf will not be
complete until there is no possibility of their being subjected to the
humours of ignorant, unfeeling and incompetent attendants." That
training schools are an efficient means of accomplishing this reform
there can be no doubt.

A most notable advance in the treatment of the insane was the
introduction of the system of non-restraint — the disuse of all mechan-
ical devices for restraining the freedom of bodily movement. This
was first demonstrated to be practicable by Mr. Gardner Hill at the
Lincoln Asylum, England, in 1836, and Dr. Connolly put the system
into full operation at Hanwell in 1840. At first ridiculed as "the
freak of an enthusiastic mind, that would speedily go the way of all
such new-fangled notions" it was bitterly opposed for years by the
superintendents of the large county asylums of England, and to Dr.
Connolly is due the honor of having demonstrated its practicability
and of having overcome after a prolonged struggle the opposition and
prejudice against it. Men like Todd, Woodward, Butler, Ray — names
memorable in the history of American psychiatry — were not unmind-
ful of the remedial value of sympathetic and kindly treatment, and,
while the controversy over non-restraint was waged abroad, were
independently carrying out the same humane doctrine and conducting
their institutions on the same 'enlightened principles of conciliation
and kindness.' At the present day the system of absolute non-restraint
is more in vogue in England than here where the necessity for some
form of restraining appliance is still maintained to exist in certain
instances. But it is evident from the annual reports of the American
hospitals that the use of restraint is lessening each year. In some
institutions it is entirely abolished; in all it is used to a very limited
extent and only upon the order of the attending physician. The
means of restraint employed consist chiefly of the canvas camisole to
restrain the movements of the hands and arms, the canvas or leather
muff for the hands and the use of a strong sheet fastened across the bed
if the patient is not in a conditon to be up and about the rooms. In
place of the sheet the hands and the feet may be restrained while
the patient is in bed by soft rolls of cheesecloth.

The most recent advance in the care of the acute insane is in the
movement toward the establishment of psychopathic hospitals for treat-
ment and for clinical and pathological research in or near the large
centers of population. In this most advanced work Europe has taken
the lead, and such hospitals have been in existence for some years in

PSYCHIATRY. 47

the university towns of Germany and Austria. That at Giessen,
opened in 1896, is thus described by Dr. Frederick Peterson, president
of the New York State Lunacy Commission — "It is in the town of
Giessen, near the other hospitals used for teaching purposes, adjacent
to the pathological institute, and consists- of ten or eleven cottages for
116 patients, in a beautiful garden. The central building contains
pathological, chemical, microscopical, photographic and psychophysical
laboratories, besides a mechanical workshop, clinical auditorium,
library, and a dispensary or polyclinic for outdoor patients. The
necessary administrative offices and rooms for the director and assist-
ant physicians are also here. There are cottages for private cases, and
for quiet, suicidal, restless, and disturbed patients of each sex. This
is probably the most complete hospital of its kind in existence at the
present time." Although as yet in Great Britain and America this
work has not received the attention it merits, a beginning is being
made. At Albany, New York, a pavilion has been opened in connec-
tion with the Albany General Hospital for the reception of the acutely
insane, and in Michigan the last legislature passed an act to "Provide
for the Construction of and Equipping of a Psychopathic Ward upon
the Hospital Grounds of the University of Michigan." In Boston and
Philadelphia out-patient departments have been in successful operation
for several years. There is no doubt but that the next few years will
see the general opening of such hospitals and out-patient departments in
the larger cities throughout the country.

Another movement that is ripening to fruition in America is that
for the establishment of 'After-care Associations' for the protection
and help of needy patients upon discharge from hospitals, recovered,
but without means of support. This idea originated in Germany as
far back as 1829, with Hofrath Lindpaintner, who organized in that
year a 'Society of Patronage' which exercised a paternal care over, and
rendered assistance to, such persons for a period of two years following
their recovery. Such associations were later formed in France, and
in recent years the system has been in general operation in Germany,
France, England and notably in Switzerland. The work of these
organizations, the establishment of which in this country has already
been discussed by the American Neurological Association, consists in
finding proper homes and employment for discharged patients, main-
taining a general supervision over them and offering such financial or
other aid as may be necessary again to put them in the way of earning
a livelihood.

In spite of all efforts put forth to cure the acute mental troubles
a large percentage of the cases prove rebellious and drift into chronic
states of mental deterioration. The patients do not die, but live in
good bodily health with intellect dulled to the higher interests of life

48 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and sink slowly into incurable dementia. Other cases are marked from
the outset by the stigmata of chronicity, being slow and insidious in
development, and the disease is often fully established before the
patient's friends awake to a realization of the event. These chronic
classes of the insane require a specialized treatment, a home where
they can be protected from the world and from themselves, where con-
genial occupation may be obtained, where a strict but humanely
enforced control may be exercised over their conduct and where their
lives may be lived in comfort and in peace. Until recent years all
classes of insane have been cared for in large institutions where proper
classification has been difficult or impossible and where the acute and cur-
able cases have been in daily contact with the incurable and the demented.

Of late much effort has been made to overcome this objectionable
state of thing by the establislunent of colonies, where the chronic
insane may live in small separated cottages scattered in groups over a
large tract of land. Here the patients live in small groups or families
under conditions more approximating home surroundings. The farm
and industrial shops furnish the occupation so necessary to relieve the
monotony of life and to counteract abnormal tendencies. The little
colony has its chapel and amusement hall, sometimes a store, and fur-
nishes an environment in which a man may live in comparative com-
fort and with a reasonable degree of contentment. Such colonies are
now quite numerous in Europe and America and seem to furnish ideal
conditions for the care of the chronic and presumably incurable cases.
In Scotland, Germany, Belgium, and to a limited extent in Massa-
chusetts, a system is in operation with a fair degree of success in
which selected chronic cases are boarded out in private families in the
country districts while under the observation and control of a govern-
mental bureau or commission.

It is unfortunately a fact that many of the chronic insane are still
detained in almshouses and poor farms not only in this country but
abroad. Here they, Mdio are the unfortunate victims of disease and
not to be held responsible for their condition, are obliged to associate
with paupers and criminals and are kept in a condition unworthy of
the civilization of the twentieth century. The cruelty of a past age
still lingers in many of these places, and not only do they suffer from the
stigma of their associations, but are too often the victims of improper
and insufficient attendance and are not strangers to bonds and chains.

But the grand work of emancipation is still going on, and en-
lightened public sentiment is everywhere at work and the realization of
a fuller charity is surely not long to be delayed. At the beginning of
the twentieth century we are on the threshold of a new era in the
working out of this great problem, and the scientific and philanthropic
spirits of the day are laboring together and energetically toward its
ultimate solution.

THE NATIONAL CONTROL OF EDUCATION. 49

THE NATIONAL CONTEOL OF EDUCATION.*

By the Right Hon. Sir JOHN E. GORST, F.R.S.

n^HE invitation of the British Association to preside over the Sec-
-*■- tion of Education, established this year for the first time, has
been given to me as a representative of that government department
which controls the larger, but perhaps not the most efficient, part of
the education of the United Kingdom. The most suitable subject for
my opening address would therefore seem to be the proper function of
National Authority, whether central or local, in the education of the
people; what is the limit of its obligations; what is the part of educa-
tion in which it can lead the way; what is the region in which more
powerful influences are at work, and in which it must take care not
to hinder their operation; and what are the dangers to real education
inseparable from a general national system. I shall avoid questions of
the division of functions between central and local authorities, beset
with so many bitter controversies, which are political rather than
educational.

In the first place, so far as the mass of the youth of a country is
concerned, the public instructor can only play a secondary part in the
most important part of the education of the young — the development
of character. The character of a people is by far its most important
attribute. It has a great deal more moment in the affairs of the world,
and is a much more vital factor in the promotion of national power
and influence, and in the spread of Empire, than either physical or
mental endowments. The character of each generation depends in the
main upon the character of the generation which precedes it; of other
causes in operation the effect is comparatively small. A generation
may be a little better or a little worse than its forefathers, but it cannot
materially differ from them. Improvement and degeneracy are alike
slow. The chief causes which produce formation of character are met
with in the homes of the people. They are of great variety and mostly
too subtle to be controlled. Eeligious belief, ideas, ineradicable often in
maturer life, imbibed from the early instruction of parents, the principles
of morality current amongst brothers and sisters and pla}Tnates, popular
superstitions, national and local prejudices, have a far deeper and more
permanent effect upon character than the instruction given in schools

* Address of the president of the Educational Science Section of the British
Association for the Advancement of Science. Glasgow, 1901.
VOL. LX. — 4.

50 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

or colleges. The teacher, it is true, exercises his influence among the
rest. Men and women of all sorts, from university professors to village
dames, have stamped some part of their own character upon a large
proportion of their disciples. But this is a power that must grow
feebler as the number of scholars is increased. In the enormous
schools and classes in which the public instruction of the greater part
of the children of the people is given, the influence on character of the
individual teacher is reduced to a minimum. The old village dame
might teach her half-dozen children to be kind and brave and to speak
the truth, even if she failed to teach them to read and write. The
headmaster of a school of 2,000 or the teacher of a class of eighty may
be an incomparably better intellectual instructor, but it is impossible
for him to exercise much individual influence over the great mass of
his scholars.

There are, however, certain children for the formation of whose
characters the nation is directly responsible — deserted children, desti-
tute orphans and children whose parents are criminals or paupers. It
is the duty and interest of the nation to provide for the moral education
of such children and to supply artificially the influences of individual
care and love. The neglect of this obligation is as injurious to the pub-
lic as to the children. Homes and schools are cheaper than prisons
and workhouses. Such a practice as that of permitting dissolute pauper
parents to remove their children from public control to spend the sum-
mer in vice and beggary at races and fairs, to be returned in the
autumn, corrupt in body and mind, to spread disease and vice amongst
other children of the State, would not be tolerated in a community
intelligently alive to its own interest.

A profound, though indirect and untraceable, influence upon the
moral education of a people is exercised by all national administration
and legislation. Everything which tends to make the existing genera-
tion wiser, happier or better has an indirect influence on the children.
Better dwellings, unadulterated food, recreation grounds, temperance,
sanitation, will all affect the character of the rising generation. Eegula-
tions for public instruction also influence character. A military spirit
may be evoked by the kind of physical instruction given. Brutality
may be developed by the sort of punishments enjoined or permitted.
But all such causes have a comparatively slight effect upon national
character, which is in the main the product for good or evil of more
powerful causes which operate, not in the school, but in the home.

For the physical and mental development of children it is now
admitted to be the interest and duty of a nation in its collective capac-
itv to see that proper schools are provided in which a certain minimum
of primary instruction should be free and compulsory for all, and,
further, secondary instruction should be available for those fitted to

THE NATIONAL CONTROL OF EDUCATION. 51

profit by it. But there are differences of opinion as to the age at
which primary instruction should begin and end; as to the subjects it
should embrace ; as to the qualifications which should entitle to further
secondary instruction; and as to how far this should be free or how far
paid for by the scholar or his parents.

The age at which school attendance should begin and end is in most
countries determined by economic rather than educational considera-
tions. Somebody must take charge of infants in order that mothers
may be at leisure to work; the demand for child labor empties schools
for older children. In the United Kingdom minding babies of three
years old and upwards has become a national function. But the infant
'school/ as it is called, should be conducted as a nursery, not as a
place of learning. The chief emplo}Tnent of the children should be
play. No strain should be put on either muscle or brain. They should
be treated with patient kindness, not beaten with canes. It is in the
school for older children, to which admission should not be until
seven years of age, that the work of serious instruction should begin,
and that at first for not more than two or three hours a day. There is
no worse mistake than to attempt by too early pressure to cure the evil
of too early emancipation from school. Beyond the mechanical accom-
plishments of reading, writing and ciphering, essential to any in-
tellectual progress in after life, and dry facts of history and grammar,
by which alone they are too often supplemented, it is for the interest
of the community that other subjects should be taught. Some effort
should be made to develop such faculties of mind and body as are latent
in the scholars. The same system is not applicable to all; the school
teaching should fit in with the life and surroundings of the child.
"Variety, not uniformity, should be the rule. Unfortunately the various
methods by which children's minds and bodies can be encouraged to
grow and expand are still imperfectly understood by many of those
who direct or impart public instruction. Examinations are still too
often regarded as the best instrument for promoting mental progress;
and a large proportion of the children in schools, both elementary and
secondary, are not really educated at all — they are only prepared for
examinations. The delicately expanding intellect is crammed with
ill-understood and ill-digested facts, because it is the best way of pre-
paring the scholar to undergo an examination test. Learning to be
used for gaining marks is stored in the mind by a mechanical effort of
memory, and is forgotten as soon as the class-list is published. Intel-
lectual faculties of much greater importance than knowledge, however
extensive — as useful to the child whose schooling will cease at fourteen
as to the child for whom elementary instruction is but the first step in
the ladder of learning — are almost wholly neglected.

The power of research — the art of acquiring information for

52 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

oneseli — on which the most advanced science depends, may by a proper
system be cultivated in the youngest scholar of the most elementary
school. Curiosity and the desire to find out the reason of things is a
natural, and to the ignorant an inconvenient, propensity of almost
every child; and there lies before the instructor the whole realm of
nature knowledge in which this propensity can be cultivated. If
children in village schools spent less of their early youth in learning
mechanically to read, write and cipher, and -more in searching hedge-
rows and ditch-bottoms for flowers, insects, or other natural objects,
their intelligence would be developed by active research, and they
would better learn to read, write and cipher in the end. The faculty
of finding out things for oneself is one of the most valuable with which
a child can be endowed. There is hardly a calling or business in life
in which it is not better to know how to search out information than to
possess it already stored. Everything, moreover, which is discovered
sticks in the memory and becomes a more secure possession for life
than facts lazily imbibed from books and lectures. The faculty of
turning to practical uses knowledge possessed might be more culti-
vated in primary schools. It can to a limited extent, but to a limited
extent only, be tested by examination. Essays, compositions, problems
in mathematics and science, call forth the power of using acquired
knowledge. Mere acquisition of knowledge does not necessarily confer
the power to make use of it. In actual life a very scanty store of
knowledge, coupled with the capacity to apply it adroitly, is of more
value than boundless information which the possessor cannot turn to
practical use. Some measures should be taken to cultivate taste in
primary schools. Children are keen admirers. They can be early taught
to look for and appreciate what is beautiful in drawing and painting,
in poetry and music, in nature, and in life and character. The effect of
such learning on manners has been observed from remote antiquity.

Physical exercises are a proper subject for primary schools, espe-
cially in the artificial life led by children in great cities: both those
which develop chests and limbs, atrophied by impure air and the want
of healthy games, and those which discipline the hand and the eye — the
latter to perceive and appreciate more of what is seen, the former to
obey more readily and exactly the impulses of the will. Advantage
should be taken of the fact that the children come daily under the
observation of a quasi-public officer — the school teacher — to secure
them protection, to which they are already entitled by law, against
hunger, nakedness, dirt, over-work, and other kinds of cruelty and
neglect. Children's ailments and diseases should by periodic inspection
be detected: the milder ones, such as sores and chilblains, treated on
the spot, the more serious removed to the care of parents or hospitals.
Diseases of the eye and all maladies that would impair the capacity of

THE NATIONAL CONTROL OF EDUCATION. 53

a child to earn its living should in the interest of the community receive
prompt attention and the most skilful treatment available. Special
schools for children who are crippled, blind, deaf, feeble-minded or
otherwise afflicted should be provided at the public cost, from motives,
not of mere philanthropy, but of enlightened self-interest. So far as
they improve the capacity of such children they lighten the burden on
the community.

I make no apology for having dwelt thus long upon the necessity of
a sound system of primary instruction: that is the only foundation
upon which a national system of advanced education can be built.
Without it our efforts and our money will be thrown away. But while
primary instruction should be provided for, and even enforced upon,
all, advanced instruction is for the few. It is the interest of the com-
monwealth at large that every boy and girl showing capacities above
the average should be caught and given the best opportunities for
developing those capacities. It is not its interest to scatter broadcast
a huge system of higher instruction for any one who chooses to take
advantage of it, however unfit to receive it. Such a course is a waste
of public resources. The broadcast education is necessarily of an in-
ferior character, as the expenditure which public opinion will at
present sanction is only sufficient to provide education of a really high
calibre for those whose ultimate attainments will repay the nation for
its outlay on their instruction. It is essential that these few should
not belong to one class or caste, but should be selected from the mass
of the people, and be really the intellectual elite of the rising genera-
tion. It must, however, be confessed that the arrangements for select-
ing these choice scholars to whom it is remunerative for the community
to give advanced instruction are most imperfect. jSTo ^capacity-catch-
ing machine' has been invented which does not perform its function
most imperfectly: it lets go some it ought to keep, and it keeps some
it ought to let go. Competitive examination, besides spoiling more or
less the education of all the competitors, fails to pick out those capable
of the greatest development. It is the smartest, who are also some-
times the shallowest, who succeed. 'Whoever thinks in an examina-
tion,' an eminent Cambridge tutor used to say, 'is lost.' Nor is
position in class obtained by early progress in learning an infallible
guide. The dunce of the school sometimes becomes the profound
thinker of later life. Some of the most brilliant geniuses in art and
science have only developed in manhood. They would never in their
boyhood have gained a county scholarship in a competitive examina-
tion.

In primary schools, while minor varieties are admissible, those,
for instance, between town and country, the public instruction pro-
vided is mainly of one type ; but any useful scheme of higher education

54 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

must embrace a great variety of methods and courses of instruction.
There are roughly at the outset two main divisions of higher educa-
tion— the one directed to the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake,
of which the practical result cannot yet be foreseen, whereby the
'scholar' and the votary of pure science is evolved; the other directed
to the acquisition and application of special knowledge by which the
craftsman, the designer and the teacher are produced. The former of
these is called secondary, the latter technical, education. Both have
numerous subdivisions which trend in special directions.

The varieties of secondary education in the former of these main
divisions would have to be determined generally by considerations of
age. There must be different courses of study for those whose educa-
tion is to terminate at sixteen, at eighteen and at twenty-two or
twenty-three. Within each of these divisions, also, there would be at
least two types of instruction, mainly according as the student devoted
himself chiefly to literature and language, or to mathematics and
science. But a general characteristic of all secondary schools is that
their express aim is much more individual than that of the primary
school: it is to develop the potential capacity of each individual
scholar to the highest point, rather than to give, as does the elementary
school, much the same modicum to all. For these reasons it is essential
to have small classes, a highly educated staff and methods of instruc-
tion very different from those of the primary school. In the forma-
tion of character the old secondary schools of Great Britain have held
their own with any in the world. In the rapid development of new
secondary schools in our cities it is most desirable that this great tradi-
tion of British public school life should be introduced and maintained.
It is not unscientific to conclude that the special gift of colonizing
and administering dependencies, so characteristic of the people of the
United Kingdom, is the result of that system of self-government to
which every boy in our higher public schools is early initiated. But
while we boast of the excellence of our higher schools on the charac-
ter-forming side of their work, we must frankly admit that there is
room for improvement on their intellectual side. Classics and mathe-
matics have engrossed too large a share of attention; science, as part
of a general liberal education, has been but recently admitted, and is
still imperfectly estimated. Too little time is devoted to it as a school
subject; its investigations and its results are misunderstood and
undervalued. Tradition in most schools, nearly always literary, alters
slowly, and the revolutionary methods of science find all the prejudices
of antiquity arrayed against them. Even in scientific studies, lack of
time and the obligation to prepare scholars to pass examinations
cause too much attention to be paid to theory, and too little to practice,
though it is by the latter that the power of original research and of

THE NATIONAL CONTROL OF EDUCATION. 55

original application of acquired knowledge is best brought out. The
acquisition of modern languages was in bygone generations almost
entirely neglected. In many schools the time given to this subject is
still inadequate, the method of teaching antiquated, the results un-
satisfactory. But the absolute necessity of such knowledge in litera-
ture, in science and in commerce is already producing a most salutary
reform.

The variety of types of secondary instruction demanded by the
various needs and prospects of scholars requires a corresponding
variety in the provision of schools. This cannot be settled by a rule-
of-three method, as is done in the case of primary instruction. We
cannot say that such and such an area being of such a size and of such
a population requires so many secondary schools of such a capacity.
Account must be taken in every place of the respective demands for
respective types and grades of secondary education; and existing pro-
vision must be considered.

It must not, however, be forgotten that a national system of educa-
tion has its drawbacks as well as its advantages. The most fatal
danger is the tendency of public instruction to suppress or absorb all
other agencies, however long established, however excellent their
work, and to substitute one uniform mechanical system, destructive
alike to present life and future progress. In our country, where there
are public schools of the highest repute carried on for the most part
under ancient endowments, private schools of individuals and associa-
tions, and universities entirely independent of the Government, there
is reasonable hope that with proper care this peril may be escaped. But
its existence should never be forgotten. Universal efficiency in all
establishments that profess to educate any section of the people may
properly be required; but the variety, the individuality and the inde-
pendence of schools of every sort, primary and secondary, higher and
lower, should be jealously guarded. Such attributes once lost can never
be restored.

There still remains for our consideration the second division of
higher education, viz., the applied or technological side. It is in this
branch of education that Great Britain is most behind the rest of the
world; and the nation in its efforts to make up the lost ground fails
to recognize the fact that real technical instruction (of whatever type)
cannot possibly be assimilated by a student unless a proper foundation
has been laid previously by a thorough grounding of elementary and
secondary instruction. Our efforts at reform are abrupt and discon-
nected. A panic from time to time sets in as to our backwardness in
some particular branch of commerce or industry. There is a sudden
rush to supply the need. Classes and schools spring up like mush-
rooms, which profess to give instruction in the lacking branch of applied

56 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

science to scholars who have no elementary knowledge of the particular
science, and whose general capacities have never been sufficiently de-
veloped. Students are invited to climb the higher rungs of the
ladder of learning who have never trod the lower. But science cannot
be taught to those who cannot read, nor commerce to those who cannot
write. A few elementary lessons in shorthand and bookkeeping will
not fit the British people to compete with the commercial enterprise of
Germany. Such sudden and random attempts to reform our system of
technical education are time and money wasted. There are grades and-
types in technological instruction, and progress can only be slow. It
is useless to accept in the higher branches a student who does not come
with a solid foundation on which to build. In such institutions as the
Polytechnics at Zurich and Charlottenburg we find the students ex-
clusively drawn from those who have already completed the highest
branches of general education; in this country there is hardly a single
institution where this could be said of more than a mere fraction of its
students. The middle grades of technological instruction suffer from
a similar defect. Boys are entered at technical institutions whose
only previous instruction has been at elementary schools and eve-
ning classes ; whose intellectual faculties have not been developed to the
requisite point; and who have to be retaught the elements to fit them
for the higher instruction. In fact there is no scientific conception of
what this kind of instruction is to accomplish and of its proper and
necessary basis of general education.

Yet this is just the division of higher education in which public
authority- finds a field for its operations practically unoccupied. There
are no ancient institutions which there is risk of supplanting. The
variety of the subject itself is such that there is little danger of sinking
into a uniform and mechanical system. What is required is first a
scientific, well-thought-out plan and then its prompt and effective
execution. A proper provision of the various grades and types of
technological instruction should be organized in every place. The aim
of each institution should be clear; and the intellectual equipment
essential for admission to each should be laid down and enforced.
The principles of true economy, from the national point of view, must
not be lost sight of. Provision can only be made (since it must be of
the highest type to be of the slightest use) for those really qualified to
profit by it to the point of benefiting the community. Evening classes
with no standard for admission and no test of efficiency may be valu-
able from a social point of view as providing innocent occupation
and amusement, but they are doing little to raise the technical capacity
of the nation. So far from 'developing a popular demand for higher
instruction' they may be preventing its proper growth by perpetuating
tlie popular misconception of what real technical instruction is, and

THE NATIONAL CONTROL OF EDUCATION. 57

of the sacrifices we must make if our people are to compete on equal
terms with other nations in the commerce of the world. The progress
made under such a system would at first be slow; the number of stu-
dents would be few until improvements in our systems of primary
and secondary instruction afforded more abundant material on which
to work; but our foundation would be on a rock, and every addition
we were able to make would be permanent, and contribute to the final
completion of the edifice.

It is the special function of the British Association to inculcate
'n scientific view of things' in every department of life. There is
nothing in which scientific conception is at the present moment more
urgently required than in national education ; and there is this peculiar
difficulty in the problem, that any attempt to construct a national sys-
tem inevitably arouses burning controversies, economical, religious
and political. It is only a society like this, with an established philo-
sophical character, that can afford to reduce popular cries about edu-
cation (which ignore what education really is, and perpetuate the
absurdity that it consists in attending classes, passing examinations
and obtaining certificates) to their true proportions. If this Associa-
tion could succeed in establishing in the minds of the people a scien-
tific conception of a national education system, such as has already
been evolved by most of the nations of Europe, the States of America,
and our own colonies, it would have rendered a service of inestimable
value to the British nation.

58 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE EVOLUTION OF THE HUMAN INTELLECT.

By Professor EDWARD L. THORNDIKE,

TEACHERS COLLEGE, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.

n^O the intelligent man with an interest in human nature it must
-*- often appear strange that so much of the energy of the scientific
world has been spent on the study of the body and so little on the study
of the mind. 'The greatest thing in man is mind/ he might say, 'yet
the least studied.' Especially remarkable seems the rarity of efforts
to trace the evolution of the human intellect from that of the lower
animals. Since Darwin's discovery, the beasts of the field, the fowl of
the air and the fish of the sea have been examined with infinite pains
b)"^ hundreds of workers in the effort to trace our physical genealogy,
and with consummate success; yet few and far between have been the
efforts to find the origins of intellect and trace its progress up to
human faculty. And none of them has achieved any secure success.

It may be premature to try again, but a somewhat extended series
of studies of the intelligent behavior of fishes, reptiles, birds and mam-
mals, including the monkeys, which it has been my lot to carry out
during the last five years, has brought results which seem to throw
light on the problem and to suggest its solution.

Experiments have been made on fishes, reptiles, birds and various
mammals, notably dogs, cats, mice and monkeys, to see how they learned
to do certain simple things in order to get food. All these animals
manifest fundamentally the same sort of intellectual life. Their learn-
ing is after the same general type. What that type is can be seen
best from a concrete instance. A monkey was kept in a large cage.
Into the cage was put a box, the door of which was held closed by a
wire fastened to a nail which was inserted in a hole in the top of the
l)ox. If the nail was pulled up out of the hole the door could be pulled
open. In this box was a piece of banana. The monkey, attracted by
the new object, came down from the top of the cage and fussed over
the box. He pulled at the wire, at the door and at the bars in the front
of the box. He pushed the box about and tipped it up and down. He
played with the nail and finally pulled it out. When he happened to
pull the door again it of course opened. He reached in and got the
food inside. It had taken him 36 minutes to get in. Another piece of
food being put in and the door closed the occurrences of the first trial
were repeated, but there was less of the profitless pulling and tipping.
He got in this time in 2 minutes and 20 seconds. With repeated trials

EVOLUTION OF THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 59

the animal finally came to drop entirely the profitless acts and to take
the nail out and open the door as soon as the box was put in his cage.
He had, we should say, learned to get in.

The process involved in the learning was evidently a process of
selection. The animal is confronted by a state of affairs or, as we may
call it, a '^situation.' He reacts in the way that he is moved by his
innate nature or previous training to do, by a nimiber of acts. These
acts include the particular act that is appropriate and he succeeds. In
later trials the impulse to this one act is more and more stamped in,
this one act is more and more associated with that situation, is selected
from amongst the others by reason of the pleasure it brings the animal.
The profitless acts are stamped out; the impulses to perform them in
that situation are weakened by reason of the positive discomfort or the
absence of pleasure resulting from them. So the animal finally per-
forms in that situation only the fitting act.

Here we have the simplest and at the same time the most wide-
spread sort of intellect or learning in the world. There is no reasoning,
no process of inference or comparison; there is no thinking about
things, no putting two and two together ; there are no ideas — the animal
does not think of the box or of the food or of the act he is to perform.
He simply comes after the learning to feel like doing a certain thing
under certain circumstances which before the learning he did not feel
like doing. Human beings are accustomed to think of intellect as the
power of having and controlling ideas and of ability to learn as synony-
mous with ability to have ideas. But learning by having ideas is really
one of the rare and isolated events in nature. There may be a few scat-
tered ideas possessed by the higher animals, but the common form of
intelligence with them, their habitual method of learning, is not by the
acquisition of ideas, but by the selection of impulses.

Indeed this same type of learning is found in man. When we learn
to drive or play tennis or billiards, when we learn to tell the price of
tea by tasting it or to strike a certain note exactly with the voice, we
do not learn in the main by virtue of any ideas that are explained to
us, by any inferences that we reason out. We learn by the gradual
selection of the appropriate act or judgment, by its association with
the circumstances or situation requiring it in just the way that the
animals do.

From the lowest animals of which we can affirm intelligence up to
man this type of intellect is found. With it there are in the mammals
obscure traces of the ideas which come in the mental life of man to
outweigh and hide it. But it is the basal fact. As we follow the
development of animals in time we find the capacity to select impulses
growing. We find the associations thus made between situation and
act growing in number, being formed more quickly, lasting longer and

6o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

becoming more complex and more delicate. The fish can learn to go
to certain places, to take certain paths, to bite at certain things and
refuse others, but not much more. It is an arduous proceeding for him
to learn to get out of a small pen by swimming up through a hole in a
screen. The monkey can learn to do all sorts of things. It is a com-
paratively short and easy task for him to learn to get into a box by
unhooking a hook, pushing a bar around and pulling out a plug. He
learns quickly to climb down to a certain place when he sees a letter T
on a card and to stay still when he sees a K. He performs the proper
acts nearly as well after 50 days as he did when they were fresh in his
mind.

This growth in the number, speed of formation, permanence, delicacy
and complexity of associations possible for an animal reaches its
acme in the case of man. Even if we leave out of question the power
of reasoning, the possession of a multitude of ideas and abstractions
and the power of control over impulses, purposive action, man is still
the intellectual leader of the animal kingdom by virtue of the superior
development in him of the power of forming associations between
situations or sense impressions and acts, by virtue of the degree to
which the mere learning by selection possessed by all intelligent ani-
mals has advanced. In man the type of intellect common to the ani-
mal kingdom finds its fullest development, and with it is combined
the hitherto non-existent power of thinking about things and rationally
directing action in accord with thought.

Indeed it may be that this very reason, self -consciousness and self-
control which seem to sever human intellect so sharply from that of
all other animals are really but secondary results of the tremendous
increase in the number, delicacy and complexity of associations which
the human animal can form. It may be that the evolution of intellect
has no breaks, that its progress is continuous from its first appearance
to its present condition in adult civilized human beings. If we could
prove that what we call ideational life and reasoning were not new and
unexplainable species of intellectual life but only the natural conse-
quences of an increase in the number, delicacy and complexity of
associations of the general animal sort, we should have made out an
evolution of mind comparable to the evolution of living forms.

In 1890 William James wrote, "The more sincerely one seeks to
trace the actual course of psycho-genesis, the steps by which as a race
we may have come by the peculiar mental attributes which we possess,
the more clearly one perceives 'the slowly gathering twilight close in
utter dark.' " Can we perhaps prove him a false prophet ? Let us first
see if there be any evidence that makes it probable that in some way
or another the mere extension of the animal type of intellect has pro-
duced the human sort. If we do let us proceed to seek a possible

EVOLUTION OF THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 6i

account of ]low this might have happened, and finally to examine any
evidence that shows this possible 'how' to have been the real way in
which human reason has evolved.

It has already been shown that in the animal kingdom there is, as we
pass from the early vertebrates down to man, a progress in the evolution
of the general associative process which practically equals animal in-
tellect, that this progress continues as M-e pass from the monkeys to
man. Such a progress is a real fact; it does exist as a possible vera
causa; it is thus at all events better than some imaginary cause of the
origin of human intellect, the very existence of which is in doubt. In
a similar manner we know that the cell structures which compose the
brain and the connections between which are the physiological parallel
of the associations animals form show as we pass down through the
vertebrate series an evolution along lines of increased delicacy and com-
plexity. That an animal associates a certain act with a certain felt
situation means that he forms or strengthens connections between cer-
tain cells. The increase in the number, delicacy and complexity of cell
structures is thus the basis for an increase in the number, delicacy and
complexity of associations. Xow the evolution noted in cell structures
affects man as well as the other vertebrates. He stands at the head
of the scale in that respect as well. May not this obvious supremacy
in the animal type of intellect and in the adaptation of his brain to it
be at the bottom of his supremacy in being the sole possessor of reason-
ing?

This question becomes more pressing if we realize that we must
have some sort of brain correlate for ideational life and reasoning.
Some sort of difference in processes in the brain must be at the basis of
the mental differences between man and the lower animals, we should
all admit. And it would seem wise to look for that difference amongst
differences which really do or at least may exist. Now the most likely
brain difference between man and the lower animals for our purpose,
to my mind indeed the only likely one, is just this difference in the
fineness of organization of the cell structures. If we could show with
any degree of probability how it might account for the presence of
ideas and of reasoning we should at least have the satisfaction of deal-
ing with a cause actually known to exist.

The next important fact is that the intellect of the infant six
months to a year old is of the animal sort, that ideational and reason-
ing life is not present in his case, that the only obvious intellectual
difference between him and a monkey is in the quantity and quality of
the associations formed. In the evolution of the infant's mind to its
adult condition we have the actual transition within an individual
from the animal to the human type of intellect. If we look at the
infant and ask what is in him to make in the future a thinker and

62 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

reasoner, we must answer either by invoking some mysterious capacity,
the presence of which we cannot demonstrate, or by taking the differ-
ence we actually do find. That is the difference in the quality and
quantity of associations of the animal sort. Even if we could never
see how it came to cause the future intellectual life, it would seem
wiser to believe that it did than to resort to faith in mysteries. Surely
there is enough evidence to make it worth while to ask our second
question, 'How might this difference cause the life of ideas and reason-
ing ?'

To answer this question fully would involve a most intricate treat-
ment of the whole intellectual life of man, a treatment which cannot
be attempted without reliance on technical terms and psychological
formulas. A fairly comprehensible account of the general features of
such an answer can however be given. The essential thing about the
thinking of the animals is that they feel things in gross. The kitten
that learned to respond differently to the signals 'I must feed those
cats' and 'I will not feed them,' felt each signal as a vague total in-
cluding the tone, the movements of my head, etc. It did not have an
idea of the sound of I, another of the sound of must, another of the
sound of feed, etc. It did not turn the complex impression into a lot
of elements, but felt it, as I have said, in gross. The dog that learned
to get out of a box by pulling a loop of wire did not feel the parts of
the box separately, the loop as a definite circle of a certain size, did not
feel his act as a sum of certain particular movements. The monkey
that learned to know the letter K from the letter Y did not feel the
separate lines of the letter, have definite ideas of the parts. He Just felt
one way when he saw one total impression and another way when he
saw another.

Strictly human thinking on the contrary has for its essential charac-
teristic the breaking up of gross total situations into a number of par-
ticular feelings. When in the presence of ten jumping tigers, we not only
feel like running, but also feel the number of the tigers, their color, their
size, etc. When instead of merely associating some act with some
situation in the animal way, we think the situation out, we have a num-
ber of particular feelings of its elements. In some cases it is true we re-
main restricted to the animal sort of feelings. The sense impressions
of suffocation, of the feeling of a new style of clothes, of the pressure
of 10 feet of water above us, of malaise, of nausea and such like,
remain for most of us vague total feelings to which we react and which
we feel most acutely, but which do not take the form of definite ideas
that we can isolate or combine or compare. Such feelings we say are not
parts of our real intellectual life. They are parts of our intellectual
life if we mean by it the mental life concerned in learning, but they
are not if we mean by it the life of reasoning.

EVOLUTION OF TEE HUMAN INTELLECT. 63

Can we now see how the vague gross feelings of the animal sort
might turn into the well-defined particular ideas of the human sort, by
the aid of a multitude of delicate associations ?

It seems to be a general law of mind that any mental element
which occurs with a number of different mental elements, appears that
is in a number of different combinations, tends to thereby acquire an in-
dependent life of its own. We show children six lines, six dots, six peas,
six pieces of paper, etc., and thus create the definite feeling of sixness.
Out of the gross feelings of a certain number of lines, of dots, etc., we
evolve the definite elementary feeling of sixness by making the ^six'
aspect of the situations appear in a number of different connections.
We learn to feel whiteness as a definite idea by seeing white paper,
white cloth, white eggs, white plates, etc., etc. We learn to feel the
meaning of hut or in or notwithstanding by feeling the meaning of a
number of total phrases containing each of them. Now in this general
law by which different associates for the same elementary process elevate
it out of its position as an undifferentiated fragment of a gross total
feeling, we have, I think, the manner in which the vague feelings of
the nine-raonths-old infant become the definite ideas of the five-year-
old boy, the manner in which in the race the animal mind has evolved
into the human, and the explanation of the service performed by the
increase in the delicacy of structure of the human brain and the con-
sequent increase in the number of associations.

The bottle to the six-months-old infant is a vague sense impression
which the infant does not think about or indeed in the common mean-
ings of the words perceive or remember or imagine. Its presence does
not arouse ideas, but action. It is not to him a thing so big, or so
shaped, or so heavy, but is just a vaguely sizable thing to be reached
for, grabbed and sucked. Like the lower animals, with the exception
that as he grows a little older he reacts in very many more ways, the
child feels things in gross in a way to lead to direct reactions. Vague
sense impressions and impulses make up his mental life. The bottle,
which to a dog would be a thing to smell at and paw, to a kitten a
thing to smell at and perhaps worry, is to the child a little later a
thing to grab and suck and turn over and drop and pick up and pull
at and finger and rub against its toes and so on. The sight of the
bottle thus becomes associated with a lot of different reactions, and
thus by our general law tends to gain a position independent of any
of them, to evolve from the condition of being a portion of the cycles
see-grab, see-drop, see-turn over, etc., to the condition of being a definite
idea.

The increased delicacy and complexity of the cell structures in the
human brain gives the possibility of very small parts of the brain
processes forming different connections, allows the brain to work in

64 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

very great detail, provides processes ready to be turned into definite
ideas. The great number of associations which the human being
forms furnish the means by which this last event is consummated. The
infant's vague feelings of total situations are by virtue of the detailed
working of his brain all ready to split up into parts, and his general
activity and curiosity provide the multitude of different connections
which allow them to do so. The dog on the other hand has few or no
ideas because his brain acts in coarse fasliion and because there are few
connections with each single process.

When once the mind begins to function by having definite ideas all
the .phenomena of reasoning soon appear. The transition from one
idea to another is the feeling of their relationship, of similarity or
difference or whatever it may be. As soon as we find any words or
other symbols to express such a feeling, or to express our idea of an
action or condition, we have explicit judgments. Observation of any
child will show us that the mind cannot rest in a condition where it has
a large body of ideas without comparing them and thinking about
them. The ideas carry within them the forces that make abstractions,
feelings of similarity, judgments and the other characteristics of
reasoning.

In children two and three years of age we find all these elements
of reasoning present and functioning. The product of children's
reasoning is often irrational but the processes are all there. The fol-
lowing instances from a collection of children's sayings by Mr. H. W.
Brown show children making inductions and deductions after the
same general fashion as adults :

(2 yrs.) T. pulled the hairs on his father's wrist. Father. ''Don't T.,
you hurt papa!" T. "It didn't hurt grandpa."

(2 yrs. 5 mos.) M. said, "Gracie can't walk, she wears little bits of
?hoes; if she had mine she could walk. When I get some new ones, I'm going
to give her these, so she can walk."

(3 yrs.) W. likes to play with oil paints. Two days ago my father told
W. he must not touch the paints any more, for he was too small. This morning
W. said, "When my papa is a very old man, and when I am a big man and
don't need any papa, then I can paint, can't I, mamma?"

(3 yrs.) G.'s aunt gave him ten cents. G. went out, but soon came back
saying, "Mamma, we will be rich now." "Why so, G?" "Because I planted my
ten cents, and we will have lots of ten cents growing."

(3 yrs.) B. climbed up into a large express wagon, and would not get'
out. I helped him out, and it was not a minute before he was back in the
wagon. I said, "B., how are you going to get out of there now?" He replied,
"I can stay here till it gets little, and then I can get out my own self."

(3 yrs.) F. is not allowed to go to the table to eat unless she has her face
and hands washed and her hair combed. The other day she went to a lady
A-isiting at her house and said, "Please wash my face and hands and comb my
hair; I am very hungry."

(3 yrs.) If C. is told not to touch a certain thing, that it will bite him,

EVOLUTION OF THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 65

he always asks if it has a mouth. The other day he was examining a plant, to
see if it had a mouth. He was told not to break it, and he said, "Oh, it won't
bite, because I can't find any mouth."

iSTowhere in the animal kingdom do we find the psychological
elements of reasoning save where there is a mental life made np of
the definite feelings which I have called 'ideas/ but they spring up
like magic as soon as we get in a child a body of such ideas. If we have
traced satisfactorily the evolution of a life of ideas from the animal life
of vague sense impressions and impulses we may be reasonably sure
that no difficulty awaits us in following the life of ideas in its course
from the chaotic dream of early childhood to the logical world-view
of the adult scientist.

In a very short time we have come a long way, from the simple
learning of the minnow or chick to the science and logic of man. The
general frame of mind which one acquires from the study of animal
behavior and of the mental development of young children makes our
hypothesis seem vital and probable. If the facts did eventually
corroborate it we should have an eminently simple genesis of human
faculty, for we could put together the gist of our contention in a few
words. We should say:

"The function of intellect is to provide a means of modifying our
reactions to the circumstances of life so that we may secure pleasure,
the symptom of welfare. Its general law is that when in a certain
situation an animal acts so that pleasure results, that act is selected
from all those performed and associated with that situation so that
when the situation recurs the act will be more likely to follow than it
was before, that on the contrary the acts which when performed in a
certain situation have brought discomfort tend to be dissociated from
that situation. The intellectual evolution of the race consists in an
increase in the number, delicacy, complexity, permanence and speed of
formation of such associations. In man this increase reaches such a
point that an apparently new type of mind results, which conceals the
real continuity of the process. This mental evolution parallels the
evolution of the cell structures of the brain from fewer and simpler
and grosser to many and complex and delicate."

Nowhere more truly than in his mental capacities is man a part of
nature. His instincts, that is his inborn tendencies to feel and act in
certain ways, show throughout marks of kinship with the lower animals,
especially with our nearest relatives physically, the monkeys. His
sense powers show no new creation. His intellect we have seen to be a
simple though extended variation from the general animal sort. This
again is presaged by the similar variation in the case of the monkeys.
Amongst the minds of animals that of man leads, not as a demigod from
another planet, but as a king from the same race.

VOL. LX. — 5.

66 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE OEIGIN OF SEX IN PLANTS.

By Dr. BRADLEY MOORE DAVIS,

UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO.

'y'^OOLOGISTS have held various views as to the origin of sex in
■^-^ animals, but the subject is confessedly speculative. They have
very little data bearing upon the problem — the gap between the Pro-
tozoa and the Metazoa is so immense and characterized by such a
paucity of intermediate types. We pass directly from relatively sim-
ple conjugation among unicellular forms to the complicated conditions
in higher animals, where the sexual elements have reached a very high
state of specialization.

Botany is very much more fortunate in this respect. It is not
difficult to understand the evolution of multicellular plants from the
unicellular, and we have a great deal of evidence that bears on the
origin and differentiation of sex. Greater interest is added to this
subject because we have reason to believe that sex has arisen in a num-
ber of divergent groups by identical processes but without relation to
one another, so that similar complex results have been worked out
independently.

We shall deal entirely with that large group of the lower plants
known as the algae which includes all the plants below the liverworts
and mosses with the exception of the fungi. One need study the algae
but slightly to realize that they are a very diverse assemblage of forms
comprising many lines of ascent, some of which are marked out clearly,
but many of them mere fragments and remnants of former series that
have been broken up by the extinction of ancestral types.

There are certain groups of algae well known to all students of
botany that have no place in the present discussion. Such for example
are the Conjugales comprising types such as Spirogyra, Zygnema, the
desmids, and again, the diatoms. However valuable these forms may
be for certain laboratory studies, they should never be cited as typical
illustrations of sexual processes among the lower plants. They are
rather extraordinarily specialized groups and have developed peculiar-
ities of a high order. Again, there are numbers of groups complex in
their organization, whose relationship to other forms is so remote that
we must place them quite apart by themselves. Such for example are
the stoneworts (Charales), the red algae (Khodophyceae) and some

THE ORIGIN OF SEX IN PLANTS.

67

forms of the brown algae (Phaeophyceae). These groups give us no
data on the problems that we are to consider.

There is left for us a numerous and varied array of algae, represent-
ing several lines of ascent, all tending to diverge from one another.
But these forms have some important points in common, particularly
as concerns certain events in their life histories. There is immense
variety in the form of the plant body which ranges from a single cell
to structures with stalks and leaf-like organs. There are likewise ex-
hibited many degrees of sexual development, from a few forms which
actually appear to illustrate -the dawning of sex through various inter-
mediate stages to many types in which the sexual elements have become
highly specialized. The story of the differentiation of sex, that is, the
evolution of the egg and sperm from the primitive sexual elements,
is most interesting, but would require extended treatment. It must be
left for some future paper. Our problem is to understand how the
primitive sexual elements arose.

Almost all the algae in the groups referred to in the paragraph
above have one phase in their life histories in common. They usually
present a period, although sometimes very short, when the protoplasm
of the cells is in the form of free-swimming elements. These are
called zoospores or swarm-spores and they are commonly little pear-
shaped bodies, the pointed ends bearing 2 or perhaps 4 delicate hair-
like organs, called cilia, whose vibrations give the zoospores their rapid
movement. A glance at the illustrations will show the form of these
motile cells.

Zoospores are likely to be produced in greatest quantity at certain
seasons or under particular conditions of light or temperature, and
their purpose is plainly the rapid
propagation of the species. But
there is a deep significance in
their general conformity to a cer-
tain type of structure and their
almost universal presence in the
groups that we are considering.
In a certain sense the zoospore
represents a return on the part of
these algae to primitive ancestral
conditions.

There are many unicellular
algae that pass a large part, per- fig. 1. stages in the Life history of chla-
haps the greater part, of their mydomonas. «, vegetative cell. 6, small ga-

_ ^ ° _ r ' METE, c, Conjugation of Gametes, d, Sexually

lives as motile cells with a struc- formed spore, e, first division of spoee.

ture essentiallv thp «nmp n^ /, Quirscent condition, cells Multiplying by
Ture esseniiany tne same as division. (After gokoschankin.)

68 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

zoospores. These lowly types of the Protococcales are certainly most
nearly related to the parent forms of all the higher algae. The prin-
cipal stages in the life history of such a type (Chlamydomonas)
are illustrated in Figure 1. The free-swimming cell is shown in a and
&. In c we have the conjugation of two individuals which gives a sex-
ually formed spore such as ajDpears in d. e and / present a quiescent
condition when the cells multiply for a short time by fission.

The evolution of the algae has led for the most part to the develop-
ment and long continuance of such phases of the life history as are
stationary, and from these the filamentous, membranous and otherwise
differentiated plant bodies have arisen. Finally the motile stage
became so shortened as to be only a method of reproduction on the
part of the plant and is passed over very quickly.

The zoospore then takes on new interest when one contemplates
its relation to the past, realizing that it represents conditions of a re-
mote period when the algae were much simpler than they are now and
passed the greater part of their lives in a motile condition. It is not
likely that the first algal types were motile, for the lowest group of all,
the Cyanophyceae or blue-green algae, presents forms whose cells are
always stationary, reproducing by simple fission.

But above the lower stretches of the algae, the zoospore appears with
great regularity and usually conspicuously in the life history. There
are certain types (unicellular Volvocaceae), whose life histories are
mostly or entirely alternations of motile conditions and quiescent
states when the cells come to rest, lose their cilia and remain motionless
for many days. Such resting cells are well known to students of the
lower algae, and it is an interesting fact that they may pass quickly
and readily back to the motile form. Indeed there is every reason
to believe that the one state or the other is largely determined by the
physical environment of the organism. Eecent studies by Livingston
have shown for one type (Stigeoclonium) that zoospores immediately
follow the transfer of cells in a resting condition from a certain solu-
tion of salts to a weaker solution, and this is an excellent illustration of
the sort of factors that influence the alga.

In our discussion of the problem of the origin of sex we are to deal
chiefly with forms whose motile conditions are so shortened as to be
manifestly largely or wholly reproductive in their purposes. The
plants are stationary, but at times and under certain conditions zoo-
spores are produced in great numbers. These, after a brief existence
as free-swimming cells, settle down and give rise to a new stationary
plant body usually like the parent.

Zoospores or swarm spores are wonderfully alike in structure in the
algae that are most closely related to one another. The prevailing type
among the green algae (Chlorophyceae) is a pear-shaped cell with 2

THE ORIGIN OF SEX IN PLANTS. 69

or frequently 4 cilia at the pointed end. The illustrations show these
and other characters clearly. A portion of the protoplasm is differen-
tiated as a green body (chloroplast), which only partially fills the
rounded end of the zoospore, leaving the rest of the cell quite clear.
Sometimes the chloroplast contains a central body called the pyrenoid,
which is associated with the starch-forming activities of the chloroplast.
This structure must not be confused with the nucleus of the cell, the
latter being almost always invisible in the living zoospore. Finally,
one may always expect to find in the colorless pointed end, near the
cilia, a small bright red body called the pigment spot. The pigment
spot is generally believed to have a relation to the sensitiveness dis-
played by zoospores towards light, not in any sense, however, as an
organ of vision, as might be judged by the unfortunate term 'eye-spot'
that is sometimes applied to it.

Such is the structure of the zoospores. Now let us consider their
habits. As we have said before, several are likely to be developed in
a single cell, but there is no rule as to number. Sometimes the entire
contents of a cell will slip out as a single zoospore, but more frequently
8, 16 or 32 will be formed, a variable number even in the same plant,
and in certain cases the parent cell will give rise to hundreds. The
zoospores escape from the mother cell or sporange usually through some
opening in the wall and immediately swim off. They may be developed
so numerously that the water is actually colored greenish and the field
of the microscope shows hundreds of these organisms moving rapidly
in various directions. Such appearances have given them the appro-
priate name of swarm-spores. The swarming of zoospores is best
shown under certain conditions of illumination. The zoospores are
very sensitive to light and usually arrange themselves with reference
to its source so that the long axes are parallel with the incoming rays.
If a vessel of water be placed so that the light rays come from one
direction, as from a window, the zoospores will move in parallel lines
towards or away from the source of the illumination. They will thus
collect in clouds in various parts of the vessel, the exact position being
somewhat modified by the currents of water that slowly circulate
through every brightly illuminated vessel.

Generally speaking the swarm-spores that one is most likely to see
will be asexual. Their activities cease after a few hours or perhaps
minutes and they then attach themselves in some suitable position,
germinate and develop young plants called sporelings. Sporelings of
the alga, Ulothrix, are shown in Figure 2, d, they having developed from
a zoospore like c.

But frequently and under conditions that have been in part deter-
mined swarm-spores will behave quite differently. They will swim at
first very actively, approaching one another and then darting awa}'.

70 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

hut finally gathering in small groups and sorting themselves in pairs.
The elements in such a pair begin to fuse together; the process is
called conjugation and represents the simplest form of sexuality. The
two sexual cells are called gametes, but they are nothing more than
zoospores so constituted that they must fuse with one another in order
to live.

The gametes show their relationship to zoospores in various ways
and there is no doubt that they arose from the latter. In the first place
they have the same general structure and are developed in the same
sorts of cells on the mother plant. But the most important evidence
of affinity is exhibited by certain gametes that are so much like zoospores
that they will sometimes settle down and germinate without conjuga-
tion. Tliis means that their sexual characters are not strongly enough
developed to overcome the vegetative tendencies of their parents the
asexual zoospores. However, the sporelings that come from these
abortive or perhaps parthenogenetic gametes are weaker than the prod-
ucts of the ordinary or normal zoosopores and sometimes never reach
full development. As may be guessed, this curious intermediate condi-
tion between the zoospore and gamete furnishes a most important clue
to the fundamental distinctions that separate the one from the other.
These differences are evidently physiological rather than morphological
in character.

It is only recently that botanists have in part understood and at-
tempted to define precisely the conditions that determine the develop-
ment on the one hand of zoospores and on the other of gametes. In a
general way it has been believed for a long time that the problem
was a physiological one and that various enviromnental conditions of
season, temperature or light were responsible for the results. But in
the past ten years there have been numerous studies, on various types
of the lower plants, attempting to establish as exactly as possible the
chemical and physical factors at work. In this field of research the
botanist, Klebs, has been especially active, and he, above all others,
deserves the credit of developing certain experimental methods of at-
tack. These have yielded important results and justify the belief that
we may in the future obtain much precise knowledge.

Klebs treats the forms to as many well-defined conditions as he
can devise, various as to the food, the osmotic properties of the water,
the light and the temperature. The results have been very remark-
able considering the difficulties of the problems. We can not do better
than to follow his studies on one or two forms to illustrate the possi-
bilities of investigations in this difficult field.

His studies on TJlothrix are interesting. This is a lowly type of
unbranched filamentous alga common in both fresh and salt water.
The zoospores (Figure 2,h) are formed in varying numbers, but usually

THE ORIGIN OF SEX IN PLANTS.

71

4 or 8 in a cell. They are relatively large structures with 4 cilia and
have the appearance shown in Figure 2, c. These 4-ciliate zoospores
are never sexual and they develop new Ulothrix filaments like their
parent. This simple method of reproduction may be continued for

Fig. 2. Ulothrix. a, Vegetative Filament. 6, Development of Asexual Zoospores.
c, Zoospore, d, Sporelings. e, Cell containing Gametes. /, Gametes, g, Conjugation of
Gametes, h. Sexually formed Spore.

many months, but at times the conditions are such that another form
of swarm-spore appears. These elements are much smaller than the
usual zoospores, are developed more numerously in the mother cell and
have 2 cilia as is shown in Figure 2, e, f. They are gametes and as a
rule fuse readily with one another in pairs. The free-swimming
gametes are sho'^vn in Figure 2, f, and two stages in the conjugation
appear in g and h. If conjugation does not take place, the gametes
settle down and in certain instances have been observed slowly ger-
minating ; but they develop feeble plants.

Now what are the causes that make the plant produce asexual zoo-
spores on the one hand and gametes on the other? Are they deeply
seated in the protoplasm of Ulothrix? In the first place there is no
rule or rhythm in the appearance of zoospores or gametes, no time when
conditions within the plant demand their development. And again,
structurally, there is no hard and fast line between the zoospore and
gamete; on the contrary, there are gradual transitions between these
two forms of swarm spores. The problem thus resolves itself into an
inquiry as to the precise environmental influences, the chemical and
physical factors affecting the Ulothrix filament, whether they are ac-
tually able to make the plant form zoospores or not according to certain
conditions. The habits of Ulothrix show us clearly that there are such
factors, but the adjustments are so delicate that, apart from a very clear
relation to temperature and the character of the salts in solution, it has
not been possible to formulate them with exactness.

But other studies of Klebs, on forms that lend themselves more
readily to cultivation than Ulothrix, have given some very definite re-
sults. Hydrodictyon, the water-net, is an alga^ that may be cultivated

72

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

with great ease in the laboratory. This plant is a great cell colony,
involving usually thousands of elements which are joined to one an-
other to form a net of polygonal meshes. A portion of such a plant
is shown in Figure 3, a. These cells after they have reached a certain
age produce zoospores that may be either asexual or sexual (gametes).
The gametes are smaller and are produced much more numerously than

Fig. 3. Hydrodictyon. a, Portion of Net. 6, End of Cell showing Young Net in
ITS Interior, c, Gahete. d, e, Conjugation of Gametes.

the asexual elements. They escape from the mother-cell and after
swarming in the water conjugate in pairs (see Figure 3, c, d, e). The
asexual swarm-spores have the peculiarity of never leaving the mother
cell. They swim around in the cavity bounded by the cell wall and
shortly come to rest, arranging themselves to form a new net entirely
within the parent cell. Thus by their habits one may readily distin-
guish the asexual zoospores and gametes of Hydrodictyon.

Now let us summarize the factors that will make Hydrodictyon
form asexual zoospores at one time and gametes at another. The water-
net grows luxuriantly in a culture solution containing a number of
inorganic salts. If plants are removed from such a culture solution
and placed in fresh water they will develop zoospores in 34 hours. The
process takes place most rapidly if the temperature is slightly above
the normal; indeed merely warming the water in which plants are
living will frequently induce the production of zoospores. Plants re-
fuse to form zoospores at a temperature as low as 8° C. but if such a
culture be raised to the warmth of 16° or 20° the process is immediately
resumed. Gametes are produced under very different conditions from
those stated above. They demand organic food. Cultures of Hydro-
dictyon in a solution of 'cane sugar will almost certainly yield gametes
after several days.

It frequently happens that the nets of Hydrodictyon will exhibit
a well-defined tendency or preference to form either gametes or zoo-
spores. Such a habit may be quite thoroughly broken by cultivating
a plant under proper surroundings. Gamete-forming nets will shortly

THE ORIGIN OF SEX IN PLANTS. 73

produce zoospores if grown in solution of inorganic salts and in bright
sunlight. Nets with strong inclinations to form zoospores can be
made to produce gametes by cultivating in a sugar solution in subdued
light or darkness. Plants that have no special inclination to form
either zoospores or gametes may be decided one way or the other by
the illumination, bright light producing zoospores and darkness
gametes. It is also fair to say that sometimes the tendency to form
zoospores is so strong that a plant will not yield for several generations
to the conditions that generally bring about the immediate production
of gametes.

Let these studies on Hydrodictyon and Ulothrix stand as illustra-
tions of the kind of evidence presented in varying degrees by many
algae and fungi and constantly increasing as investigations in physiol-
ogy proceed. The general trend seems unmistakable. We may feel
sure that sexual elements, gametes, have arisen from asexual repro-
ductive cells with an immediate relation to and probably because
of certain environmental factors. In a general way these factors
are known to be light, temperature, osmotic pressure and, most im-
portant of all, the chemical nature of the environment with especial
reference to the kinds of foods.

What was the change that came over the asexual reproductive cell
when it took on the stamp of sex? The differences are best measured
in the possibilities of the two elements. The asexual zoospores may
quickly and readily produce a new individual. The gamete, generally
speaking, must fuse with its kind or else die. We have seen that primi-
tive gametes may germinate without conjugation but the resulting
plants in the cases best known are weaker than normal individuals.
We also know that the lower stretches of the plant kingdom furnish
abundant illustrations of parthenogenesis, that is, the power of an egg
cell to develop without fertilization. These exceptions, however,
strengthen the evidence that the essential differences between gametes
and asexual zoospores are qualities lacking in the former, and especially
the ability to continue and sustain the mechanism demanded by vital
processes.

With conjugation all is changed, and the sexually formed spore
has the qualities lacking in the two gametes from which it arose.
The protoplasm is in a sense rejuvenated and with the stimulus comes
sooner or later an expression frequently more vigorous than that of
the asexual spore.

The most striking conjecture on the significance and origin of sex
has been presented under the name 'autophagy.' It is a very simple
hypothesis. However, its simplicity is its greatest danger and will
probably be its complete undoing, for enough is known to indicate
that the factors and conditions that produce the sexual act are im-

74 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mensely varied and complex. Autophagy explains the sexual act as a
process by which sexual cells mutually devour one another. Each is
fed to the other and by mutually contributing their substance both make
possible the energy exhibited by the fusion cell.

Autophagy conceives the sexual cell (gamete) as one that lacks
the energy of its progenitor, the asexual element. It is a cell reduced
and starved. Ordinarily its vitality is at such a low ebb that further
development is impossible. Sometimes it is not so far gone but that a
favorable environment will induce parthenogenetic growth. The sex-
ual cell may be brought back to virile activity with power to propagate
the race, if supplied with the necessary energy. And the simplest
method of attaining this end, according to autophagy, is the coopera-
tive union of these weakened elements, a mutual feast, which revives
the worn-out protoplasm and enables the fusion products to make a
fresh start.

The hypothesis of autophagy may be attacked from several points,
and becomes very unsatisfactory when so examined. It is crude and
entirely insufficient to cover the subtle phenomena that it attempts to
handle. The cause of the fusion of gametes involves problems of
chemistry and physics which can only be investigated by methods of ex-
treme delicacy and precision. One may see at a glance that conjuga-
tion is not the same as the actual feeding of one unicellular organism
upon another. In such a case, which might be illustrated with many
Protozoa, the captive form is destroyed and its dead substance is then
worked over through elaborate changes into the protoplasm of the
living cell. In the conjugation of sexual cells, the two masses of pro-
toplasm fuse and mingle and perhaps the most significant feature of
the process is the union of the two sexual nuclei.

As a matter of fact, sexual cells are, generally speaking, well
nourished, and in all higher organisms the egg is specially provided
with food, far above the amount ordinarily present in cells. The un-
fertilized egg does not lack food, but is unable to command the neces-
sary energy or, if such be present, it is tied up in some form that can-
not be used. The importance of the latter condition is indicated by
the investigations of Dr. Loeb, who found that a slight increase in the
density of sea-water will induce the immediate development of the un-
fertilized eggs of sea urchins, star fishes and a certain worm. In the
earlier experiments, salts of magnesium and potassium were added to
the sea- water, but later studies have shown that sugar induces similar
parthenogenetic development. It is suggested that merely the with-
drawal of water from the egg by osmosis is sufficient to cause its de-
velopment without sexual intervention. And it may be supposed that
normally the sperm brings to the egg substances that excite such con-
ditions within the egg that water is given off. But we are far from

TEE ORIGIN OF SEX IN PLANTS. 75

understanding how such results are accomplished in nature or what
other factors may be concerned.

It is certainly plain that the conditions surrounding sexual processes
are immensely complex, and as yet we only know them in part and for a
very few organisms. There is every reason to expect that investigation
will so add to these that the subject will consist of very complicated
problems in physics and chemistry. But it is something to know that
important factors exist outside of the organism controlling in great
part the sexual phase, and that some of them are so simple as light,
temperature and osmotic pressure. Much is gained for biology in the
understanding that sexual elements have arisen from asexual repro-
ductive cells under the stress of environmental influences; that sex-
uality is not inherent in life although presented in almost all higher
organisms, and that, however complicated the extreme conditions may
be, they have arisen through a process of gradual evolution.

In another paper I shall hope to show the steps by which the highly
differentiated egg and sperm in various groups of plants developed from
the similar gametes presented at the dawning of sex. As stated in the
beginning of this paper, the topic is a chapter in itself and well deserves
separate treatment.

76 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE FISHES OF JAPAN.

WITH OBSERVATIONS ON THE DISTRIBUTION OF FISHES.
By DAVID STARR JORDAN,

PRESIDENT OF LELAND STANFORD JUNIOR UNIVERSITY.

THE islands of Japan are remarkable for their richness of animal
life. The variety in climatic and other conditions, the nearness
to the great continent of Asia and to the chief center of marine life —
the East Indian Islands — its relation to the warm Black Current or
Kuro Shiwo — the Gulf Stream of the Orient — and to the cold current
from Bering Sea, all tend to give variety to the fauna of its seas.
Especially numerous and varied are the fishes of Japan.

About nine hundred species of fishes are known, from the four
great main islands of Japan, and about two hundred more from the
volcanic islands (Kuriles and Liu Kiu) to the north and south. Of
the eleven hundred, about fifty are fresh water. All these are derived
from the mainland of Asia. Two faunal districts, the north and the
south, may be recognized among the fresh-water fishes. The mountain
region and the region lying to the north of Fuji abound in trout, with
salmon, sturgeon, lamprey and other northern fishes. In the soiithern
district these are absent and the chief fresh-water fishes are ayu, or
dwarf salmon, chubs, minnows, cat-fishes and loaches.

The marine fishes are far more varied, their distribution being
mainly controlled by temperature and currents. Among these, five
districts may be recognized, their range sufficiently indicated by the
names, Kurile, Hokkaido, Nippon, Kiusiu, Kuro Shiwo and Liu Kiu.
Of these, the Kurile Fauna is subarctic, similar to that of the Aleutian
Islands, that of the Liu Kiu islands is tropical, that of the promon-
tories, which strike out into the Kuro Shiwo, is Polynesian. The cen-
tral region (Nippon) contains the forms essentially Japanese. Kiusiu
lias much in common with China, and Hokkaido with Siberia and Man-
churia. Each of these districts overlaps, by a broad fringe, on the
others.

It has been noted that the fish fauna of Japan bears a striking
resemblance to that of the Mediterranean, and Dr. Giinther has sug-
gested that this can be accounted for by supposing that in recent times
a continuous coast line and sea-passage extended from one region to
the other, the Isthmus of Suez not existing.

TEE FISHES OF JAPAN. 77

The resemblance consists in the presence in the two regions of cer-
tain striking-looking fishes not found in other parts of the world. An
analysis of these resemblances takes away much of their impressiveness.
Most of the forms in question are widely distributed, ranging from
Japan through India to the Cape of Good Hope. Only three genera
are restricted to Japan and the Mediterranean. Eesemblances equally
strong exist between Japan and the West Indies, or between Japan
and Australia. The differences are equally marked. The types re-
garded as of Japanese origin are all wanting in the Mediterranean.
Those of Mediterranean origin are wanting in Japan. There are two
main reasons why one fish fauna may resemble another ; the one, actual
connection, so that fishes migrate from one region to another ; the other,
similarity of physical conditions, favoring in each region the develop-
ment of similar kinds of fishes. The evidence points toward the theory
that similarity of physical conditions is the chief source of resemblance
between Japan and the Mediterranean. The resemblance between
Japan and the West Indies is due to this cause, while that of Japan to
the East Indies is due largely to direct connection. If Japan and the
Mediterranean were ever connected, the Eed Sea must have been a
region of junction. Yet, while the Eed Sea in its fishes closely resem-
bles southern Japan, it has almost nothing in common with the Medi-
terranean. Except a few shallow water or brackish water types, the
shore fishes of the two regions are wholly distinct, none of the charac-
teristic genera of either sea being found in the other.

Yet, geologists affirm that in Pliocene or Post-Pliocene times the
Isthmus of Suez was submerged. It is made up of Pliocene, deposits
with alluvium from the Nile and drifting sand-hills. Admitting this
to be true, the nature of the fishes shows that this channel must have
been very shallow and probably in part occupied by fresh water. No
bottom-fish or rock-fish has crossed it — only sting-rays, torpedoes, eels
and mullets appear to have passed from one side to the other. It must
have been impossible for Japan and the Mediterranean ever to have
exchanged their deep-water fishes in this way. The only other alterna-
tive is the Cape of Good Hope, and this barrier is, to this day, passed
by many characteristic fishes of both oceans.

Four hundred and eighty-three genera of fishes are known from
Japan. For the purpose of our present study we must take from this
list all the fresh- water types, derived from China; all the northern
types, derived from Bering Sea and the general Arctic stock; all the
pelagic fishes, at home in the open sea, and all the bassalian fishes, or
those inhabiting great depths below the range of climatic changes.
After these are withdrawn, we have left the shore fishes of tropical, or
semi-tropical, origin. Of these, Japan has 334 genera; the Mediter-
ranean, 144; the Eed Sea, 191; India, 280; Australia, 344; New

78 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Zealand, 108; Hawaii, 144; West Indies, 299, and the Panama region,
256.

Common to Japan and the Mediterranean are 79, all but two being
of wide distribution; to Japan and the Eed Sea, 111; to Japan and
Hawaii, 82; to Japan and Australia, 135; to Japan and the West
Indies, 113; to Japan and Panama, 91. To the Mediterranean and
the Eed Sea, 40 genera are common, all of wide distribution; to the
West Indies and the Mediterranean, 70, 59 being of wide distribution;
to the West Indies and Panama, 179, only 101 being of wide dis-
tribution.

It is evident from an analytical table that the warm-water fauna
of Japan, like that of Hawaii, is derived from that of the East Indies
and Hindostan ; that the fauna of the Eed Sea is derived from the same
source; that the Mediterranean fauna bears no special resemblance to
that of Japan rather than to that of the other parts of Eastern Asia
with like conditions of temperature and no greater than is borne by the
West Indies; that the fauna of the two sides of the Isthmus of Suez
J^ave relatively little in common, while those of the two sides of the
Isthmus of Panama show a remarkable degree of identity.

When the fishes of Panama were first described, it was claimed
that their species were almost entirely identical with those of the West
Indies; this statement was followed by speculations on the relation of
the depression of this Isthmus to the Gulf Stream, and to the glacial
epoch. Further investigations by Jordan, and by Evermann and Jen-
kins showed the fallacy of this claim of identity. Of about 1,400
species now known from the two sides of the Isthmus, only 70 are
identical, or five per cent, of the whole, and about 10 of these are
almost cosmopolitan in the tropics. Dr. Paul Fischer finds about
three per cent, of the mollusks identical on the two coasts.

Dr. E. T. Hill goes on to show that there is neither geological nor
biological evidence of the submergence of the Isthmus of Panama since
Tertiary times, and that such a barrier existed as far back as Jurassic
times. There is, however, evidence of a brief connection in Tertiary
time at the end of the Eocene period.

Assuming this to be true, the actual facts of distribution seem to
be in accord with it. The period of depression was before the life-time
of most of the present species. It was, however, not earlier than the
period of most of the present genera. It was relatively shallow, but
wide enough to permit the infiltration from the Caribbean Sea to the
Pacific of species representing most of the genera of sandy bays, rocky
tide pools and brackish estuaries. Since the channel was closed, the
species left on either side have undergone modification in varying
degrees, mostly retaining generic identity, while losing some of their
specific characters.

THE FISHES OF JAPAN. 79

Doubtless, local oscillations in coast lines have taken place and are
even in operation at present, but the time has passed when a dance of
continents can be invoked to explain anomalies in animal distribution.
Most of these will be found to have simple causes, when we know
enough of the facts in the case to justify a hypothesis.

The laws governing animal distribution are reducible to three very
simple propositions:

Every species of animal is found in every part of the earth having
conditions fit for its existence, unless

(a) Its individuals have been unable to reach the region in question
through barriers of some sort, or,

(6) Having, reached the region, the species is unable to maintain itself
through lack of capacity for adaptation, through severity of competition with
other forms, or through destructive conditions of environment, or else,

(c) Having entered and maintained itself, it has become so altered in the
process of adaptation as to become a species distinct from the parent type.

In general, the different types of fishes are most specialized along
equatorial shores. The processes of change through natural selection
take place most rapidly there and produce more far-reaching modifi-
cations. The coral reefs of the tropics are the centers of fish-life,
corresponding in fish economy to the cities in human affairs. The
fresh water, the Arctic waters, the deep sea and the open sea represent
ichthyic backwoods — regions where change goes on more slowly and in
which archaic types survive.

The study in detail of the distribution of the fishes of the tropics,
is most instructive. The study of the origin of the fish groups of Japan
affords a fascinating introduction to its multifarious problems.

8o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE OMEN ANIMALS OF SARAWAK.

By a. C. HADDON, F.R.S.,

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY.

nnHE cult of the omen animals is of such importance in the daily
-*- life of most of the tribes of Borneo that it is desirable that
more attention should be paid to it by those who have the opportunity
of studying it at first hand.

The Venerable Archdeacon J. Perhamhas given a full account of the
Iban or Sea Dayak religion in the 'Journal of the Straits Branch of the
Eoyal Asiatic Society' (Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 8), which has been re-
printed by Ling Eoth in his book, 'The Natives of Sarawak and British
North Borneo.' Mr. Ling Eoth has also compiled some other scattered
references on omens (Vol. I., pp. 231-231). Although the following
notes are very imperfect, they contain some new facts derived from Dr.
C. Hose, and also, thanks to information derived from Dr. Hose, I
am able for the first time to give a fairly complete list of the omen
animals of Sarawak, with their scientific names. I have taken
the liberty of abstracting the following account of the way in which
birds are 'used,' as the Ibans say, from Archdeacon Perham's most
valuable papers, as it is the best description known to me of what is of
daily occurrence in Borneo:

The yearly rice farming is a matter of much ceremony as well as of labor
with the Dayaks, and must be inaugurated with proper omens. Some man
who is successful with his padi will be the augur and undertake to obtain
omens for a certain area of land, which others besides himself will farm.
Some time before the Pleiades are sufficiently high above the horizon to warrant
the clearing the grounds of jungle or grass, the man sets about his work. He
will have to hear the nendak (Cittocincla suavis) on the left, the katupong
(Sasia abnormis) on the left, the burong malam (a locust) and the beragai
(Harpactes duvauceli) on the left, and in the order I have written them. As
soon as he has heard the nendak, he will break off a twig of anything growing
near and take it home and put it in a safe place. But it may happen that
some other omen bird, or creature, is the first to make itself heard or seen, and
in that case the day's proceeding is vitiated; he must give the matter up, re-
turn and try his chance another day; and thus sometimes three or four days
are gone before he has obtained his first omen. When he has heard the nendak,
he will then go to listen for the katupong and the rest, but with the same
liability to delays; and it may possibly require a month to obtain all those
augural predictions, which are to give them confidence in the result of their
labors. The augur has now the same number of twigs and sticks as birds he
has heard, and he takes these to the land selected for farming and puts them

THE OMEN ANIMALS OF SARAWAK. 8i

in the ground, says a short form of address to the birds and Pulang Gana
(the tutelary deity of the soil, and the spirit presiding over the whole work
of rice farming), cuts a little pass or jungle with his parang and returns.
The magic virtue of the birds has been conveyed to the land.

For house-building the same birds are to be obtained and in the same
way. But for a war expedition, birds on the right hand are required, except
the nendah, which, if it make a certain peculiar call, can be admitted on the
left.

These birds can be bad omens as well as good. If heard on the wrong
side, if in the wrong order, if the note or call be of the wrong kind, the matter
in hand must be postponed, or abandoned altogether; unless a conjunction
of subsequent good omens occur, which, in the judgment of old experts, can
overbear the preceding bad ones. Hence, in practice, this birding becomes a
most involved matter, because the birds will not allow themselves to be heard in
straightforward orthodox succession. After all, it is only a balance of prob-
abilities ; for it is seldom that Dayak patience is equal to waiting till the omens
occur, according to the standard theory.

These are the inaugurating omens sought in order to strike a line of good
luck, to render the commencement of an undertaking auspicious. The contin-
uance of good fortune must be carried on by omen influence to the end.

When any of these omens, either of bird, beast or insect, are heard, or seen
by the Dayak on his way to the padi lands, he supposes they foretell either
good or ill to himself or to the farm; and in some cases he will turn back
and wait for the following day before proceeding again. The nendak is gen-
erally good, so is the katupong, on the right or left, but the papau (Harpactes
diardi) is of evil omen, and the man must beat a retreat. A beragai heard
once or twice matters not; but if often, a day's rest is necessary. The mhuas
(Carcineutes melanops) on the right is wrong, and sometimes it portends so
much blight and destruction that the victim must rest five days. The 'shout'
of the kutok (Lepocestes porphyomelas ) is e\'il, and that of the katupong so
bad that it requires three days' absence from the farm to allow the evil to pass
away; and even then a beragai must be heard before commencing work. The
beragai is a doctor among birds. If the cry of a deer, a pelandok (Tragulus),
be heard, or if a rat crosses the path before you on your way to the farm, a
day's rest is necessary; or you will cut yourself, get ill or suffer by failure of
the crops. When a good omen is heard, one which is supposed to foretell a
plentiful harvest, you must go on the farm and do some trifling work by way
of 'leasing the work of your hands' there, and then return; in this way you
clench the foreshadowed luck, and at the same time reverence the spirit which
promises it. And should a deer, or pelandok come out of the jungle and on to
the farm when you are working there, it means that customers will come to
buy the corn and that therefore there will be corn for them to buy. This is
the best omen they can have, and they honor it by resting from work for three
days.

But the worst of all omens is a dead beast of any kind, especially those
included in the omen list, found anywhere on the farm. It infuses a deadly
poison into the whole crop and will kill some one or other of the owner's family
within a year. When this terrible thing happens they test the omen by
killing a pig and divining from the appearance of the liver immediately after
death. If the prediction of the omen be strengthened, all the rice grown on
that ground must be sold; and, if necessary, other rice bought for their own
consumption. Other people may eat it, for the omen only affects those at

VOL. LX. — 6.

82 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

whom it is directly pointed. A swarm of bees lighting on the farm is an
equally dreadful matter.

The 'barking' deer (Cervuliis muntjac) is very important as an
omen to all peoples, but least so to the Ibans. The bark of this
deer prevents people from continuing their journey, and even divorces
people who are newly married.

The little chevrotains, 'planok' or 'plandok' (Tragulus napu and
T. javanicus), have the same function as the muntjac, so far as a
journey is concerned, but otherwise they are not very important.

The Eev. W. Chalmers says : "If the cries of any of the three kinds
of deer found in Sarawak be heard when starting on a journey, or
when going to consult the birds by day or by night, it is a sign that
if the matter in hand be followed up sickness will be the result.
Also, if a newly married couple hear them at night, they must be
divorced, as, if this be not done, the death of the bride or bridegroom
will ensue. I myself have known instances of this omen causing a
divorce, and I must say the separation has always been borne most phil-
osophically by the parties most concerned; in fact, the morning of one
of these divorces I remember seeing an ex-bridegroom working hard at
shaping some ornamental brass-work, which Dayak women are in the
habit of wearing round their waists, and he said that he intended to
bestow it on a certain damsel whom he had in his eye for a neio wife."

Sir Spencer St. John M^rites: "To hear the cry of a deer is at all
times unlucky, and to prevent the sound reaching their ears during a
marriage procession, gong and drums are loudly beaten. On the way
to their farms, should the unlucky omen be heard, they will return
home and do no more work for a day."

A Malay told me : If a Sarawak Malay was striking a light in the
evening in his house and a plandok made a noise at the same time, the
whole family would have to leave the house for three days. Should
they not do so, the house would catch iire and be burned down or sick-
ness or other calamity would overtake them.

On the second day of one of Dr. Hose's journeys through the jungle,
the chief who was with him saw a plandok rush across the path. Hose
being behind, did not observe it, but he saw all his party sitting on a log,
and the chief informed Hose that he could not proceed that day, as his
'legs were tied up.' This was most inconvenient, as Hose was in a
hurry, but the men would not go on. Hose freely took upon himself all
the responsibility and said he would go first and would explain to the
plandok that he was the person in fault. The chief would not agree
even to this, and did not budge, but said he would follow the next day.
Hose went on with some of the men as far as he could get and camped,
ivlext day the chief caught Hose up at noon and appeared very much

THE OMEN ANIMALS OF SARAWAK. 83

surprised that no harm had befallen him. Hose chaffed him aboat his
legs and was 'pleased to see that they had become untied !'

The small viverrine carnivore (Arctogale leucotis) is one of the
most important omens for Kenyahs and Kayans, who, however, have
a particular dread of coming into contact with it. Lest it should pro-
duce sickness, they will never even touch a piece of its dried skin. It
is not an omen for the Ibans, nor for the Punans, who even kill
and eat it. After having obtained other omens, the Kayans are glad
to see the munin, as it is useful in conjunction with other omens, but
they do not like to hear it squealing.

The screeching of the large hawk (Haliastur intermedius), which
is closely allied to or a sub-species of the Brahminy kite (H. Indus),
is a cautionary sign with the Kayans, and though it is not in itself a
bad sign, they will generally return home from any enterprise on hear-
ing it, if they were still taking omens, or, at all events, they will re-
main where they are for a day. What the Kayans and Kenyahs most
desire when 'owning' a hawk is to see it skim silently, without moving
its wings, either to the right or to the left. Any other action than this,
such as a swoop down or continued flapping of the wings, is considered
unfavorable. Something bad is going to take place; they do not know
what it may be or to whom it will happen, and one who sees the hawk
do this turns away his face or retires to some place out of the sight of
the hawk, lest, on being observed, he should be the one on whom the
misfortune will fall. On such an occasion no one speaks a word, and
all return into the house and wait from ten minutes to half an hour.
If they are very anxious to go on again that day, they slip quietly out
of the house, so that the hawk may not see them, get into their boats
and start on their journey.

If the hawk appears on the wrong side when men are paddling, a
few days away from home and nearing another village, they immedi-
ately turn the boat right round, pull to the bank and light a fire. By
turning round they put the hawk on the right side, and, being satisfied
in their o%vn minds, they proceed on their journey as before.

The hawk, or, as the Ibans call it, Sengalong Burong, is a very
important being. The little woodpecker (Sasia dbnormis), 'Katupong'
is his son-in-law, being married to Dara Inchin Temaga Indu Monkok
Chilebok China, a poetical liantu, who mentions in her songs the
names of all the mouths of the rivers in their order from Sarawak
River to some distance up the coast. (This is probably the remnant of
a migration saga.) The smallest of the trogons, Harpactes duvauceli,
'Beragi,' also married another daughter of Sengalong Burong.

Although this is the most important of any Iban omen bird,
it is his sons-in-law that are most used. Food is offered to Sengalong
Burong.

84 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

I believe that other large hawk-like birds are used as omens. The
Brahminy Kite is popularly supposed in India to be the sacred Garuda,
the mythical bird, half eagle and half man, which, in Hindu mythology,
is the Valiana, or vehicle of Vishnu. Whenever Bengali children see
one of these birds they cry out :

Let drinking vessels and cups be given to the Sliankar Chil (Brahminy

Kite),
But let the Common Kite get a kick on its face.

There is a kingfisher that lives in the jungle (Carcineutes melanops)
which is not a particularly lucky bird. If, when they are making a trap,
the Ibans hear the long, mournful whistle of the 'Membuas,' they
know that, although the trap will catch things, it will only be after an
interval of ten to fourteen days that they will have any luck. On other
occasions it is not unusual for them to catch little partridges, such as
Rollulus rouloul, directly they have set up the trap, but often, under
ordinary circumstances, it will be a day before they catch anything.

The Kenyahs apparently dislike this bird, which they call ^asi,' as
it is not very favorable ; in fact, they would rather not see it.

The white-crested hornbill (Berenicornis comatus), which has a
moderate-sized black-keeled casque on its beak and bare blue orbits and
throat, is an omen that is sought for by Kenyahs and Kayans, particu-
larly by the latter, when felling jungle for planting and when going on
the war-path. The Kenyahs use it slightly, and the Ibans not at
all; it is, in any case, an omen bird of secondary importance.

The trogon, called by the Ibans Tapau' (Harpactes diardi),
is particularly useful to these people when hunting in the jungle for
deer, pigs, etc., as it is a sure sign that they will obtain something that
day ; the bird's note of 'Pau, pau, pau,' infuses fresh energy into them.
Supposing some Ibans were making a spring-trap (panjoh), the
moment one of them heard the cry of the 'Paupau' or 'Beragai'
(H. duvauceli) , he would at once snap oif or cut off a small twig with
a parang ; the small piece of wood then cut or broken off is used for the
release of the trap ; the man would at the same time remark to the bird,
*Here we are.'

Other tribes such as the Kenyahs and Punans use Harpactes
diardi as an omen, but it is not an important one. H. duvauceli, on
the contrary, is of very considerable importance to the Kenyahs when
going on the war-path, it being one of the omens of which it is impera-
tive to obtain a sight or hearing. H. hasumha is employed indiffer-
ently with //. diardi.

Lepocestes porphyromeJas is one of the most important of the omen
birds, as it makes two perfectly distinct notes, one of which is favorable
and the other unfavorable. On a rainy day it calls 'tok, tok, tok,' but

THE OMEN ANIMALS OF 8AEAWAK. 85

when the sun comes out it bursts into long 'kieng, kieng' ; *tok' is bad,
but 'kieng' is good.

When a Kenyah hears the 'tok' cry, he immediately stops, lights
a fire and takes the usual precautions in talking to it. He knows per-
fectly well that the same bird makes the two notes, and he waits for
the 'kieng.' His explanation is that when the bird calls 'tok' it is angry,
and that it is in a good temper when it sings 'kieng,' and therefore it is
well not to go contrariwise to the omen. The Ibans behave in a
similar manner. The Kenyahs regard it as a bird of warning, but not
one that assists in getting anything. If a man was doing anything with
a parang, knife or other sharp-edged tool and heard even a 'kieng,' he
would probably desist from further use of it for that day.

The little woodpecker (Sasia ahnormis) is in high favor among the
Ibans; in fact, they consider it most important, as he represents
his father-in-law, 'Sengalong Burong.' The 'Katupong' appears to pro-
duce whatever result they require. It is of less importance with other
peoples of Sarawak.

Mr. Crossland informs us if a katupong enters a house at one end
and flies out the other, men and women snatch up a few necessaries,
such as mats and rice, and stampede, leaving ever3rthing unsecured and
the doors unfastened. If any one approaches the house at night, he will
see large and shadowy demons chasing each other through it, and hear
their unintelligible talk. After awhile the people return and erect the
ladder they have overthrown, and the women sprinkle the house with
water *to cool it.'

A kind of thrush (Cittocincla suavis) is particularly useful to the
Ibans when looking for gutta or other jungle produce. 'Nendak'
is a good bird too for them to own, as it is a Burong chelap, and, on
hearing it, they would not be afraid of any sickness.

Before starting on a gutta expedition, they would require to see
something before 'beragai' (Harpactes duvauceli) , as this is a ^burong
tampak,' that is, an omen animal that is potent for hunting. What they
like is: First, to get 'neiidak,' then wait three days while they are
owning it, finally to get ^beragai' on the right. This combination sig-
nifies certain success ; not only would they find gutta, but would obtain
plenty of it, and no harm or sickness would befall them. If, however,
they went for gutta on 'beragai' alone, and that, perhaps, appeared on
the left, they would obtain a fair amount of gutta, but they would stand
a good chance of some misfortune happening to them, and one of
their party might fall sick, or even die.

The Tailor bird (Orthotomus cineraceus) , although employed by
Ibans only, is of very little use, as it is only a secondary burong.
It may be employed as an additional argument when deciding for
*Selam,' or trial by the water ordeal. This consists in the two dispu-

86 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tants putting their heads under water, and the one who has the most
staying power having right on his side.

The Bomean shrike (Platylophus coronatus), which has an erectile
crest of long and broad feathers on its head, is used by the Ibans
as a weather prophet on account of its unerring faculty of foretelling
a storm, for whenever its whistle is heard, rain is always to be expected.
It is very important for Kenyahs and Kayans in connection with tilling
farms. When Kayans are clearing any undergrowth for a farm, after
having offered to 'Mho' (Haliastur intermedius) and other omen ani-
mals, it is desirable that they should hear 'pajan,' the shrike, for then
they know they will get plenty of padi of good quality, but there will be
a good deal of hard work, and possibly a considerable amount of sickness
and cuts and wounds. If they procure this omen, they take the precau-
tion of building very substantial granaries.

Three species of Sun birds (Arachnothera longirostris, A. modesta
and A. chrysogenys) are very important to Kayans, Kenyahs and Pu-
nans. Any of these species is used impartially, and they bear the name
of 'Sit' or Tsit.'

The 'Sit' is always the first bird to look for when undertaking any-
thing— fortunately, an individual of one of the three species is almost
always to be seen crossing the river. It is one of the least important
omen birds with the Ibans. When Kayans, Punas and Melanaus
go in search of camphor, it is first necessary to see a 'Sit' fly from right
to left, and then from left to right. A Melanau, who is intending to
start on such an expedition, sits in the bow of his boat and chants :

"0 Sit, Sit, ta-au, Kripan murip, Sit,
Ano senigo akau, ano napan akau.
Oh! Sit, Sit, on the right, give me long life. Sit,

Help me to obtain what I require, make me plenty of that for which I am
looking."

An allied bird, Anthreptes malaccensis, is conmionly mistaken by
Kayans, but by them only, for Arachnothera longirostris. They use it
as an omen bird, but it is not so used by the Kenyahs, by whom it is
called 'Manok Obah.'

All the omen snakes are bad omens, and in the case of a Kayan see-
ing 'batang lima' (Simotes octolineatus), he will endeavor to kill it and,
if successful, no evil will follow ; should he fail to kill it, then look out.'

I believe that the Ibans pay some regard to 'Sawa,' a large
python (Python reticulatus) and to 'Tuchok,' a kind of Gecko (Ptycho-
zoon homalocephalum), and to 'Brinkian,' another kind of Gecko; but
I do not know whether these are, strictly speaking, omen animals.

The omen padi-bug, 'turok parai' (Chrysocoris eques) is only of
importance, and that to Kenyahs alone, because it injures the crops.

THE OMEN ANIMALS OF SARAWAK. 87

The bee 'Manyi' (Melipona vidua) is an Iban omen only. If a
swarm of bees settled underneath a house that had recently been built,
it would be considered a bad sign, and probably it would be necessary
to destroy that particular section of the house or to leave the house
altogether.

Many Land Dayaks, on the contrary, keep bees in their houses, and
among most of the peoples of Borneo, including the Ibans, it is
most lucky in planting time to dream of an abundance of bees.

There are other creatures whose appearance, cry or movements may
signify good or bad luck which are not omen animals (i. e., 'burong' or
'aman'), in the strict sense of the term. For example, the hawk owl
(Ninox scutulata) makes a melancholy cry at night, on account of
which it is very much disliked by the natives, who regard it as a fore-
teller of death. Its native name is Tongok.' If the Malay bear (Heli-
arctos Malayanus) climbs into an Iban's house, it is a bad sign, and the
house would have to be pulled down.

According to Perham : "In answer to the questions of the origin of
this system of ^birding/ some Dayaks have given the following: In
early times the ancestors of the Malays and the ancestors of the Dayak
had, on a certain occasion, to swim across a river. Both had books.
The Malay tied his firmly in his turban, kept his head well out of water,
and reached the opposite bank with his book intact and dry. The
Dayak, less wise, fastened his to the end of his waist-cloth, and the
current washed it away. But the fates intervened to supply the loss
and gave the Dayak this system of omens as a substitute for the book.^'

Another story relates the following:

Some Dayaks in the Batang Lupar made a great feast and invited many
guests. When everything was ready and arrivals expected, a tramp and hum,
as of a great company of people, was heard close to the village. The hosts,
thinking it to be the invited friends, went forth to meet them with meat and
drink, but found, with some surprise, they were all utter strangers. However,
without any questioning, they received them with due honor and gave them all
the hospitalities of the occasion. When the time of departing came, they asked
the strange visitors who they were and from whence, and received something
like the following reply from the chief: I am Sengalong Burong, and these
are my sons-in-law and other friends. When you hear the voices of the birds
(giving their names), know that you hear us, for they are our deputies in this
lower world.' Thereupon the Dayaks discovered they had been entertaining
spirits unawares, and received as reward of their hospitality the knowledge of
the omen system.

Archdeacon Perham is perfectly right in his statement that :

"The sacredness of the omen birds is thus explained: They are forms of
animal life possessed with the spirit of certain invisible beings above, and bear-
ing their names; so that when a Dayak hears a 'Beragai,' for instance, it is
really the voice of 'Beragai,' the son-in-law of Sengalong Burong; nay, more,

88 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the assenting nod or dissenting frown of the great spirit himself. . . .
'These birds,' says Sengalong Burong, 'possess my mind and spirit, and repre-
sent me in the Jower world. When you hear them, remember it is I who
speak for encouragement or for warning.' . . . The object of the bird-culters
is like that of all other rites: to secure good crops, freedom from accidents
and falls and disease, victory in war, profit in exchange and trade, skill in
discourse and cleverness in all native craft."

We know that such very distinct peoples in Sarawak alone, as the
Ibans (Sea Dayaks), Land Dayaks, Muruts, Punans, Kayans and
Kenyahs, pay attention to omen animals and, in most cases, to the same
animals. This points to a common origin of the cult, for in some cases
there is no specially obvious reason why that particular species of ani-
mal should have been selected. In the three last mentioned peoples the
names of the omen animals are practically similar, but many of the
Iban names are different.

There can be little doubt that this cult is indigenous to Borneo;
it is probable that a cult of omen animals formed part of the funda-
mental religious equipment of the Ibans before they migrated to
Borneo, but it is also probable that the Ibans have borrowed some-
what from neighboring indigenous tribes. Much more information
must be obtained before a satisfactory history of this cult can be written.

SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE.

89

SCIENTIFIC LITERATUEE.

THE METRIC SYSTEM.
To one of scientific tastes, who at
the same time welcomes the recent
American renaissance of the historical
novel, or to one whose faith in the
common sense of his countrymen may
waiver on considering their apathy
towards the metric system, a recent
work by M. Bigourdan* will have
great fascination. Nor are these words
carelessly chosen, for a more fasci-
nating work on any phase of the his-
tory of science has not appeared in
recent years. It is true that the topic
seems trite enough. All the world
knows the story, or thinks it does; the
French revolution, the general up-
heaval, the different systems proposed,
M^chain's mistake in the longitude of
Barcelona, the consequent error in the
meter, the final adoption of the system
by a large majority of the civilized
countries, all this is familiar. But one
has only to read a dozen pages of M.
Bigourdan's work to find himself in
the midst of a wealth of interesting
history of which he probably never
even heard.

The fact is, it needed some one con-
nected with the Paris Observatory to
write such a work, and even he could
not have done it until of late. For
although the observatory has long had
in its possession the original docu-
ments deposited there by virtue of a
decree of the year 12, it is only re-
cently that it received the valuable
manuscripts relating to the early his-

* 'Le syst^me m6trique des poids et
mesures. Son Establishment et sa pro-
pagation graduelle, avec 1' histoire des
operations qui ont servi a d^erminer
le metre et le kilogramme.' Paris,
Gauthier-Villars, 1901; pp. vi+458;
price 10 fr.

tory of the system, which were given
by Mme. Laugier, who had received
them from her father, M. Mathieu,
who in turn had them from a no less
important actor in the drama than M.
Delambre himself.

It is impossible to give in a few
words any worthy resume of the work,
or adequately to speak of its style. It
opens with a chapter on the precur-
sors of the reform, going back even
to the system imder Charlemagne, to
the effects of feudalism and to the
efforts of such early leaders as Mou-
ton, Huyghens and Wren. This is fol-
lowed by a statement of the action of
the Assembly on Talleyrand's proposi-
tion, the history of the provisional
meter, the work of the temporary com-
mission, the efforts at nomenclature
and so on through the establishing of
the system on a scientific foundation.
Then come the long story of its adop-
tion by France, ending with the law
of July 4, 1837; the longer story of its
struggles for recognition in other
countries, and the later history of the
International Bureau and its remark-
able metrological labors at St. Cloud,
Still less is it possible to give, in the
limited space at command, any idea
of the thrilling historic action so un-
assumingly stated in the documents at
M. Bigourdan's command. The diffi-
culties of men like Delambre and
M6chain, unable to make surveys with-
out being suspected of signaling to the
enemy, arrested as spies because they
wished to visit their triangulation sta-
tions, imprisoned, insulted, limited in
the bare necessities of life, the only
wonder is that other errors than that
of Mechain did not find frequent place
in the work. 'I am an academician,*
said Delambre to a sansculotte who

9°

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

examined his passports. 'There isn't
any Cademie, no Cad6mie at all,' blurts
out the surly guard; 'all the world's
equal. You come along with us!'

To the American scientist, educator
or promoter of foreign trade, however,
the chief interest in the work lies in
the story it tells of the adoption of the
system by most of the non-English-
speaking countries of the world. The
common objections of those who have
given the subject little thought, objec-
tions to nomenclature, to the magni-
tude of the units, to the difficulty of
educating the people, to the error in
the meter, objections which have been
so thoroughly considered in the cen-
tury past and in so many countries,
and which have proved of so little con-
sequence— these are considered fully
and judiciously. It will be unfortu-
nate if some of the societies interested
in the progress of the system do not
arrange for translating the entire
work, both for the enlightenment of
those who have given the subject little
attention and for the help of those who
believe that America can no longer
afford to stand out against a system
which the great majority of civilized
nations are using.

BOOKS ON NATURE STUDY.
'The Sea-beach at Ebb-thje,' by
Augusta Foote Arnold (The Century
Co. ) , meets a well-defined need for
popular accounts of the natural his-
tory of the seaside. It describes the
animal and plant life found on the
beach and rocks between tide marks
and washed up after storms. There
are chapters on the distribution of ani-
mals and plants, on methods of collect-
ing and preservation, on classification
and on various peculiarities of certain
groups. Then follows an account of
the marine algae and marine inverte-
brates, systematically arranged with
the formality of a manual. This por-
tion of the book is abundantly illus-
trated with photographic reproduc-
tions. Some of these are very good.

but many are not as clear as could be
wished and do not compare favorably
with the beautiful book work exhibited
in some of the recent popular accounts
of flowering plants. That the book is
far from being strictly accurate be-
comes apparent to any one who critic-
ally examines the treatment of groups
with which he is familiar. Neverthe-
less the conspicuous forms are in the
main sufficiently described and, what is
more important, so figured that the
tyro will have little difficulty in identi-
fying specimens at hand. There is
sure to be much confusion, however, of
the more minute types such as the
hydroids with the delicate filamentous
seaweeds that should be studied with
the compound microscope.

The author's attitude towards classi-
fication seems strained. The account
of every large group is prefaced by a
table of the families, genera and species
to be considered. These synopses re-
mind one of the outlines found in dic-
tionaries and are very far from the
spirit of classification that now domi-
nates natural history. Such arrange-
ments have but small and passing
value in the constantly shifting scenes
of systematic zoology and botany.
Emphasis laid upon classification
throws into the background the wealth
of interest in the life and habits of
oiganisms which we term their natural
history. But a more important criti-
cism is the loose and inaccurate con-
ception of the significance and use of
nomenclature. When the author says
that specific names are 'occasionally
the names of botanists who first de-
scribed the plants' (p. 29), she shows
much ignorance of the methods of sys-
tematists. It seems that the spirit of
the present-day natural history is
rather against collecting, that the
best thought is directed to the out-of-
doors study of particular groups in
some detail rather than to the recogni-
tion of a very large number of forms,
to the study of their home life with
camera and sketch book rather than to

SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE.

91

their collection and preservation. And
the most interesting popular books on
natural history in recent years have
exhibited a very intimate knowledge of
the forms considered. There is a charm
in familiar friendship that is far more
satisfactory than casual acquaintance,
and it is a matter of small importance
what the forms are — whether birds or
bees or some group of plants.

One can hardly ask for a better
piece of book work than 'Flowers and
Ferns in their Haunts' by Mabel
Osgood Wright (Macmillan). The
charm lies in the beautiful photo-
graphic reproductions. These exhibit
the details of flowers or ferns in the
foreground against rock and in other
picturesque situations with a sharpness
that is very remarkable and in most
delicate contrast to the soft back-

grounds. With this detail is a choice
of subjects in their surroundings that
shows great feeling for the appropriate
and artistic. The text is a running
account of walks and rides in woods
and over hill and dale in varying sea-
sons of the year. The descriptions,
chiefly of flower societies, are quite free
from technicalities. The point of view
is always imaginative and human
rather than scientific. The book can
scarcely be said to be botanical, except
that flowers form the subject of a
pleasing account of nature in her vary-
ing moods always treated figuratively
and with much personification. Two
human characters beside the author are
carried through the book, one a quaint
and interesting old man, the other a
conventionally educated young woman,
whose presence except as a foil seems
somewhat out of place in these pages.

92

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE PEOGEESS OF SCIENCE.

FOREIGN ASSOCIATIONS FOR THE
ADVANCEMENT OF SCIENCE.

The national scientific associations
of Great Britain, Germany and France
held their annual meetings during the
month of September. The British As-
sociation met at Glasgow, under the
presidency of Professor A. W. Riicker,
the eminent physicist. Professor
Riicker, who has recently been elected
president of the reorganized University
of London, gave an excellent address
on the present trend of opinion in re-
gard to the atomic theory; and the
addresses of the presidents of the sec-
tions were of the usual high order.
The section of education, organized for
the first time, attracted special atten-
tion; we are, therefore, fortunate in
being able to publish in this issue of
the Monthly the presidential address
of Sir John Gorst. The attendance at
Glasgow — 1,912 — was above the aver-
age, but not so large as at the previous
Glasgow meetings of 1855 and 1876,
the sesquicentennial of the University,
the Engineering Congress and other
events having anticipated local inter-
est in scientific matters. The sum of
£1,000 was appropriated for scientific
grants. The meeting of the Associa-
tion next year will be at Belfast un-
der the presidency of Professor James
Dewar, the well-known chemist.

The seventy-third meeting of German
Men of Science and Physicians was
held at Hamburg, with Dr. R. Hertwig,
professor of zoology at Munich, as pres-
ident. Professor J. H. Van't Hoff, the
eminent chemist of Berlin, was presi-
dent of the scientific sections and
Professor B. Naunyn, professor of
medicine at Strassburg, of the medical
sections. There were in all twenty-
seven sections for the medical sciences
and eleven for the natural and exact
sciences. The attendance was large —

some 5,000 members — and the pro-
grams important. Special lectures
were given by Dr. E. Lecher on 'Hertz-
ian Waves,' by Professor T. Boveri
on 'Fertilization' and by Professor W.
Nernst on 'Electro-chemistry.'

The French Association met on the
Island of Corsica under the presidency
of M. Hamy, whose address reviewed
the beginnings of anthropology in
France. Owing doubtless to the cen-
tralization of scientific work at Paris,
the migratory meetings of the French
Association are less well attended than
those of Germany and Great Britain,
and the papers presented are less
numerous and important. The Asso-
ciation, however, performs a useful
work, and having a large endowment
(some $270,000) is able to make
liberal grants for scientific research.

PROFESSOR PAWLOW'S RE-
SEARCHES ON NUTRITION.

The award of the first Nobel prize
to Professor J. P. Pawlow, the widely
known physiologist of St. Petersburg,
is a well-deserved testimonial to his
valuable and extensive contributions to
experimental science. During the last
twelve years Professor Pawlow has
been engaged more particularly in the
study of certain aspects of nutrition,
and in this work he has enlisted the
services of a considerable number of
co-workers in his laboratory at the
Imperial Institute for Experimental
Medicine in St. Petersburg. The re-
searches which these years brought
forth have led physiologists to revise
ill many particulars the current teach-
ing in regard to digestion and secre-
tion. Most of the results obtained by
Pawlow and his pupils were originally
published in the 'Archives des Sciences
Biologiques de St. Petersbourg,' and
in inaccessible Russian journals and

TEE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

93

dissertations. The more important
facts and conclusions were, however,
collected and presented in organized
form in a series of lectures delivered at
the Institute for Experimental Medi-
cine. These lectures, originally pub-
lished in Russian, have been translated
into German and issued in book form
('Die Arbeit der Verdauungsdriisen,'
Wiesbaden, 1898; J. F. Bergmann).
They have been widely read and have
received abundant praise everywhere.
The chief merit of Pawlow's work
lies in the application of new experi-
mental methods to the solution of im-
portant problems in the physiology of
secretion and digestion. Thus the in-
troduction of the combined oesophageal
and gastric fistulas has led to original
observations on the mechanism of
secretion; while the possibility of ob-
taining pure gastric juice has given
rise to renewed chemical investiga-
tion of the composition and prop-
erties of this secretion. By an in-
genious method of isolating com-
pletely a portion of the stomach while
keeping unimpaired the nerve dis-
tribution to the isolated part, still
further advances have been made.
Other methods have been applied by
Pawlow to the study of the function of
the pancreas and the production of the
bile. The specific influence of the nerv-
ous system on secretion, and the paths
along which this is exerted, have been
ascertained more definitely than ever
before. Pawlow's contributions to ex-
perimental technique in these depart-
ments of investigation are unique, and
their influence is already shown in the
renewed interest which they have
aroused lately in the study of digestion
in general. To the more purely chem-
ical aspects, also, this brilliant investi-
gator has directed his attention. A
prominent German physiologist has re-
marked that so many noteworthy re-
sults have not been achieved by any
single investigator (together with his
pupils) since Beaumont and Blondlot,
and, in more recent years, Heidenhain.

In addition to these researches, men-
tion may be made of the splendid in-
vestigations on the seat of urea for-
mation in the animal body, which were
carried out conjointly with Professor
Nencki. Here again it was the applica-
tion of new experimental methods — the
Eck fistula operation, by means of
which direct communication is estab-
lished between the portal vein and the
vena cava in mammals — which inaugu-
rated a fresh series of important con-
tributions on the role of the liver in
intermediary metabolism.

Aside from the clear analysis of the
problems involved and the originality
of the methods applied, accurate ob-
servation and unremitting energy
characterize Professor Pawlow's work.
Every result obtained is verified until
it stands as a permanent fact. Physi-
ologists will rejoice at the fitting recog-
nition which such successful achieve-
ments have received.

ZINC IN DRIED FRUITS.
During the past few years the ex-
port of dried apples and other fruit
from this country to the continent of
Europe has been greatly interfered
with by the presence of zinc; the dis-
covery of traces of this metal in the
fruit has been deemed sufiicient ground
for prohibiting its importation. The
presence of the zinc has been accounted
for by the zinc trays used in the fruit
driers, but the abandonment of the
metal for this purpose has not sufficed
to free the fruit from suspicion. A
service has been rendered American
fruit growers by an investigation re-
cently carried out by Herr Soltsien, of
Gorlitz. He was incited to this by the
detection of quite a strong trace
(0.0067 %) of zinc in some American
'evaporated apples,' which had evi-
dently not been dried on zinc trays. He
finds that when zinc is present in the
soil or in the atmosphere, it is readily
taken up by plants, and, by consump-
tion of such contaminated vegetables
and fruit, even into the human body.

94

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

This was confirmed by finding traces of
zinc in a number of corpses. He
enumerates many ways by which zinc
was found to enter the soil, among
which are the following: The drainage
waters from many foundations con-
tain considerable quantities of zinc.
In all regions where zinc smelting is
carried on, or where there are zinc or
brass foundries, the vegetation contains
zinc; this arises from the fact that the
particles of zinc oxid are extremely
light and are carried to great distances
in the atmosphere. In one instance the
effluent from a slaughter house was
precipitated by an eflfective chemical
for the purpose which was sold under
the name of 'sulfate.' This precipitant
was found to be a very impure zinc
sulfate, containing much iron and
manganese. The excess of the substance
passed into the stream contaminating
it with zinc, while the precipitate,
consisting largely of zinc albuminate,
went with the other slaughter house
refuse as fertilizer. It is quite possible
that much of the 'tankage,' so largely
used in this country in the manufac-
ture of fertilizers, contains no incon-
siderable quantity of zinc. Where zinc
is thus present in the fertilizer, it
would be apt to pass in traces into the
fruit raised on soil thus fertilized. It
is reasonable to suppose that such
minute quantities of zinc would be per-
fectly harmless when taken into the
human system, but their detection
would serve to throw unjust discredit
upon American fruit growers, long
after they have ceased to use zinc in
any part of the evaporators with which
the fruit can come in contact; at least
when preparing dried fruit for the ex-
port trade, these precautions have for
some time been taken.

AN ELECTROMAGNETIC BASIS
FOR MECHANICS.

About forty years ago Maxwell
pointed out the main features of the
electromagnetic theory of light. This
theory very soon supplanted the old

mechanical wave theory, or the elastic
solid theory; and now the fundamental
notions in light are purely electric or
electromagnetic in character. It is
very remarkable, however, that aside
from the change in the fundamental
notions themselves the old theoretical
structure remains to a very great ex-
tent unchanged and that even the old
nomenclature lends itself easily to the
needs of the new theory with few excep-
tions. The change that has followed
upon Maxwell's work is very like
the moving of a house from old to new
foundations.

There is at the present time a pros-
pect of a similar transfer of the entire
subject of mechanics to a purely elec-
tromagnetic foundation. Every one re-
alizes that the notions of inertia and
of gravitation, and the principles in-
volved in Newton's laws of motion are
far too abstract in their nature, and as
elemental notions they are far too
complicated to be entirely satisfactory
as a basis for the most concrete of the
physical sciences. It seems that the
theory of electromagnetism is to sup-
ply precisely what is needful to reduce
mechanics to a more elemental basis.
The change, if it come, will no doubt be
similar to the change which has taken
place in the theory of light; the super-
structure of theoretical mechanics and
even the nomenclature will remain to
a great extent unaltered.

The possibility of explaining the in-
ertia of matter electrically was first
shown by Heaviside. A charged body
has more momentum when moving at
a given velocity than if it were not
charged, and if the body is small
enough in comparison with its charge
all its momentum may be accounted
for in this way.

The possibility of explaining gravi-
tation was first pointed out by H. A.
Lorentz, who attributes it to an excess
of attractive over repulsive forces of
electric charges.

A remarkable consequence of Heavi-
side's theory of inertia is that accelera-

TEE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

95

tion is not strictly proportional to
accelerating force and that kinetic
energy is not strictly proportional to
the square of the velocity of a moving
body.

Up to the present time a very promi-
nent feature of physical science has
been the reduction of every kind of
phenomenon to mechanics. Tlie no-
tional elements out of which nearly
every theory is built up are essentially
mechanical in their nature, if one may
use the term mechanical in a broad
sense to signify all kinds of geometric-
al, kinematical and dynamical rela-
tions. The reason for this preponder-
ating role of mechanics is that,
hitherto at least, only those theories
are effectively useful which are built
up out of sensuous elements, and
nearly all our complicated sensations
refer to space relations as perceived
with the eye and to dynamic and space
relations as perceived by the sense of
touch and by the so-called muscular
sense. It is not likely that the trans-
fer of mechanics to an electromagnetic
foundation will greatly affect the pre-
ponderating role of concrete mechanics
in physical science.

TENDENCIES IN ZOOLOGY.
Zoology also has its fashions. The
publication of the 'Origin of Species,'
by establishing a new standpoint and
new problems, led zoologists to an ever
minuter study of comparative morphol-
ogy, already made fashionable by the
work of Cuvier, Johannes Miiller and
Owen. On the discovery of the chordate
affinities of the Tunicates by Kowalew-
sky, in 1866, an impulse was given to
the investigation of comparative em-
bryology, in the hope of further infor-
mation, which, viewed in the light of
the biogenetic law, might add other
links to the phylogenetic chain. And
later, when the science of cytologj' came
into definite existence, the embry-
ologist, who at first was content to
carry his studies back only so far as
the gastrula, was incited to delve more

deeply, and for a time cell-lineage be-
came the fashion, while, following
quickly in the footsteps of this, exper-
imental morphology became a vogue.
Not that this last was an entirely new
department of investigation, but rather
a revival under new conditions and
points of view of the methods of study
employed by Trembley and Spallanzani
whose experimental researches on
Hydra and the earthworm respectively
have reached the dignity of classics.

The latest fashion, nature-study, as
it is called, is likewise a revival of
older methods. It is a rejuvenescence
of the natural history of the ancients, a
return to the methods of Gilbert White,
methods which, while they have never
failed to attract, have unfortunately
been sadly neglected of late by the pro-
fessional zoologist. The developments
of his subject have been towards ever-
increasing esoterism, until the stage
has now been reached when the laity
has lost touch with the professional
and fails to appreciate the results
which he elaborates in the privacy of
his laboratory, surrounded by his com-
plicated engines for cutting sections
and his multitudinous reagent bottles.
In so far as this new revival of natural
history methods may serve to bring
about again a rapprochement of the
amateur and the professional, it is to be
welcomed, and important additions to
our knowledge of the habits and in-
stincts of animals and the significance
of these may be expected when men,
specially trained in the methods of
biological investigation and thought,
turn their attention to these phe-
nomena.

But the enthusiasm which usually
accompanies investigation along a new
line must not blind to the danger which
lurks beneath. The hope which lies in
the departure is that it will tend to
place the study of instincts and habits
on a scientific basis and yield scientific
results founded on careful and accurate
observations, that, in a word, it will
bring order into the chaos of observa-

96

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tions now on record. Of indiscriminate
observation there has already been too
much; what is needed is discrimina-
tion. There is danger that the camera
may become as powerful a fetish as the
microtome has been. To spend hours
in most uncomfortable positions en-
deavoring to secure a nature picture is
not necessarily self-sacrifice in the pur-
suit of science; it may result in the
securing of a pretty picture but it may
result in nothing more. Pretty photo-
graphs are of no more value than
pretty microscope slides; both are
valuable only for what may be learned
from them, and it is the exercise of a
discrimination between what may be
merely pretty and what may be in-
structive that gives an observation
scientific value. It is not more amateur
photographers that are wanted but
more historians of nature.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS.
We regret to learn of the death at
the age of sixty- six years of Edward
W. Claypole, professor of geology at
Throop Institute, Pasadena, Cal., and
of the death of A. F. W. Schimper,
professor of botany at Basle, who died
on September 9, at the age of forty-five
years.

The eightieth birthday of Professor
Eudolf Virchow, which occurred on
October 13, has been celebrated in Ber-
lin with elaborate ceremonies. There
was a reception in the Pathological In-
stitute in the afternoon and a banquet
in the dining hall of the Prussian Diet
in the evening, followed by an official
reception in the parliament hall. Pro-
fessor Waldeyer, secretary of the Berlin
Academy of Sciences, presented 50,000
Marks, subscribed by medical men in
Germany toward increasing the Vir-
chow research fund. The event was
also celebrated in New York and other
cities. The municipality of Berlin has
resolved to call its new hospital, con-
taining beds for 1,700 patients, the
Virchowkrankenhaus.

A STATUE of Pasteur was unveiled on
September 9, at Arbois, where he spent
his childhood and his holidays in later
life. The monument, erected at a cost
of over $10,000, was designed by M.
Daillon and represents Pasteur seated.
On the pedestal are two bas-reliefs, one
representing inoculation against rabies
and the other agriculture profiting
from Pasteur's discoveries. On the
occasion of the unveiling addresses
were made by M. Decrais, French min-
ister of the colonies, and M. Liard, rep-
resenting the Department of Public In-
struction.

President Seth. Low presented his
resignation to the trustees of Colum-
bia University on October 7. It was
accepted with expressions of deep
regret, and Dr. Nicholas Murray But-
ler, professor of philosophy and edu-
cation, was made acting president.

Suegeon-geneeax George M. Stern-
berg has returned to Washington after
a tour of inspection in the Philippines.
— Mr. John A. Fleming, of the U. S.
Coast and Geodetic Survey, has arrived
in Honolulu for the purpose of erect-
ing and conducting a station for the
study of terrestrial magnetism.

Mb. J. E. Spurr, of the U. S. Geo-
logical Survey, who has been employed
for geological surveys by the Sultan of
Turkey, has begun work in Macedonia
and Albania.

The Fifth International Congress of
Physiology was opened on September
17 in the physiological laboratory of
the University of Turin, under the
presidency of Professor Angelo Mosso.
Sir Michael Foster was elected honor-
ary president. More than 200 physi-
ologists were present, and 186 com-
munications were announced. — The
Congress of the International Associa-
tion for Testing Materials was held at
Budapest, from September 9 to 14, un-
der the presidency of Professor L. von
Tetmajer, and was largely attended by
engineers from all parts of the world.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

DEOEMBEE, 1901.

A MECHANICAL SOLUTION OF A LITEKAEY PEOBLEM.

By Dr. T. C. MENDENHALL.

nnHE title given to this paper, chosen after much hesitation and with
-■- no little reluctance, is not to be looked upon as an assumption of
the definite and final solution of the principal problem to which atten-
tion has been directed. As a matter of fact I have hoped to conceal, for
at least a page or two, the identity of this principal problem, in order
that no well intentioned and good natured reader might be driven away
by what is a very general, not altogether reasonable, but quite natural,
prejudice. Whatever may be thought of the problem or of the im-
portance of its solution, it is believed that the method here suggested
and applied will be found to be of interest and, possibly, of consider-
able value in certain linguistic studies.

Nearly twenty years ago I devised a method for exhibiting graph-
ically such peculiarities of style in composition as seemed to be almost
purely mechanical and of which an author would usually be absolutely
unconscious. The chief merit of the method consisted in the fact that
its application required no exercise of judgment, accurate enumeration
being all that was necessary, and by displaying one or more phases of
ihe mere mechanism of composition characteristics might be revealed
which the author could make no attempt to conceal, being himself
unaware of their existence. It was further assumed that, owing to the
well-known persistence of unconscious habit, personal peculiarities in
the construction of sentences, in the use of long or short words, in the
number of words in a sentence, etc., will in the long run manifest
themselves with such regularity that their graphic representation may
become a means of identification, at least by exclusion. In the present

VOL. LX. — 7.

98

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

consideration the application of the method has been restricted to a
study of the relative frequencies of the use of words of different lengths.
The method of procedure is simple and will be best explained by an
example. One thousand words in 'Vanity Fair/ taken in consecutive
order of course, were counted and classified as to the number of letters
in each with the following result :

Letters— 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Words— 25 169 232 187 109 78 79 48 28 20 10 10 2 3

The graphic exhibition of this result is made by the well-known
method of rectangular coordinates, using the number of letters in a
word as the abscissa and the corresponding number of words in a thou-
sand as the ordinate. On a sheet of 'squared' paper the numbers showing
letters in each word, 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., are placed along the horizontal line
and on the vertical above each of these is put a point whose distance
from the base shows the number of corresponding words in every thou-
sand, according to the scale shown at the left. These points are then
joined by straight lines and the whole broken line may be called the
'word spectrum' or 'characteristic curve' of the author as derived from
the group of words considered. The group of 1,000 words from
'^7'anity Fair' enumerated above is thus graphically represented by the
continuous line in Fig. 1, and the method of constructing the charac-
teristic curve will be readily understood by comparing this with the
numbers given. As a thousand is a very small number in a problem of
this kind, the curve representing any single group of that number of
words is practically certain to differ more or less from that of any
other such group. In Fig. 1 the dotted line represents a group of 1,000

words, immediately follow-
ing that already referred to.
Perhaps the most astonishing
thing about these two lines is
not that they differ, but that
they agree as well as they do.
It is really remarkable that
any marked peculiarity in
the use of words is almost
sure to be revealed in this
way, even in comparatively
small groups. In the two
diagrams of Fig. 1 it is inter-
esting to note their general sameness, especially as shown in a tendency
to equality of words of six and seven letters and also in words of eleven
and twelve letters.

When the number of words in each group is increased there is, of

250

— 1

1

\

200

/

\

/

150

i

h

\\,

100

1

v\

\

50

'

\

.^

>

rZT

^

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Fig. 1. Two Groups— 1000 each— Vanity Fair.

SOLUTION OF A LITERARY PROBLEM. 99

course, closer agreement of their diagrams, and this became so evident
in the earlier stages of the investigation that the conclusion was soon
reached that if a diagram be made representing a very large number
of words from a given author, it would not differ sensibly from any
other diagram representing an equally large number of words from
the same author. Such a diagram would then reflect the persistent
peculiarities of this author in the use of words of different lengths and
might be called the characteristic curve of his composition. Curves
similarly formed from anything that he had ever written could not
differ materially from this, although curves of other authors might
possibl}^ but would not probably, agree closely with his.

Thus, if this principle were established, the method might be
useful as a means of identification of authorship, and it might be relied
upon with great conidence to show that a certain author did not
write a certain composition.

In the earlier application of the method many interesting facts were
brought out, some of which are worth mentioning here, although a full
account of the preliminary work was published in 'Science' of March 11,
1887, It was soon discovered that among writers of English the three-
letter word occurred much more frequently than any other. Indeed in
the earlier investigation only one exception to this rule was found and
that was in the writings of John Stuart Mill, who uses two-letter
words more often than any other. This was surprising at first, espe-
cially in view of the large average word-length of Mill's composition,
which is considerably in excess of that of any other author thus far
examined, but it is easily explained by the very frequent appearance of
prepositional phrases, necessitating the use of such two-letter words
as in, on, to, of, etc., to an extent unapproached by other writers. Mill's
writings furnished an opportunity for comparing the curves represent-
ing two different periods of an author's life. A comparison of two
groups of 5,000 words each from his Tolitical Economy' and his 'Essay
on Liberty' showed the presence of the same peculiarities in word choos-
ing, and in every thousand of the ten examined the two-letter word
was in excess. JSTo other writer of English has been found to use two-
letter words oftener than any other, but it is not at all improbable that
there may be such.

Through the interest of Mr. Edward Atkinson, it became possible
to give a partial answer to the question. Can an author purposely avoid
the peculiarities of style that belong to his normal composition? Mr.
Atkinson, having addressed a body of college alumni on a certain topic,
afterward gave what he meant to be the same address to a body of
workingmen, but in the latter instance he made a special effort to use
simple, short words and sentences of the simplest and plainest con-
struction. Although relating to the same topic the two addresses 'read'

lOO

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

very differently, but their diagrams are strikingly alike in their main
feature. As a matter of interest 'counts' were made of groups of about
5,000 words each from various languages other than English. The
characteristic curves thus derived for Italian, Spanish, French, Ger-
man, Latin and Greek are shown in Figs. 2 and 3, and, for convenience
in comparison, that of Dickens's English is added. Many of these
'counts' were furnished by friends who became interested in the mat-
ter, and an incident of no little interest was the receipt of a column of
numbers on a strip of paper ^ith nothing to indicate its origin or
meaning. Suspecting, however, that it might be a 'word count,' its dia-
gram was constructed and it was instantly and beyond all reasonable
doubt identified as coming from the Latin of Caesar.

300

Z50
200
ISO
100

so

JOOr

ZJO
ITALIAN L

BO I TO H ^00

ISO
100
JO

SPANISH
CtRVANTtS

—

\

J

y

/'

\,

\

\

1

X

-^

^

1 ^ 3 f 5 i. 7 t 3 /O 11 I2.13M IS li> 17 / Z 3/4 S 6 7 8 9 10 // IZ 13 If /S/£/7

1

1

GERMAN
VonSCHLFFEL

—

1

1

/

N,

V

V

\

1

\

1

L

J

Z=

IZ34S6789/0JI /Z13/flS16 17 I Z 3 4 S L 7 8 9 10 U 1113 li IS I& 11-17

Fk;. 2.

The original published description referred to above concludes as
follows :

From the examinations thus far made I am convinced that 100,000 words
will be necessary and sufficient to furnish the characteristic curve of a writer —
that is to say, if a curve is constructed from 100,000 words of a writer, taken
from any one of his productions, then a second curve from another 100,000
words would be practically identical with the first and that this curve would,
in general, differ from that formed in the same way from another writer, to
such an extent that one could always be distinguished from another. To
demonstrate the existence of such a curve would require the enumeration of the
letters of several hundred thousand words from each of a number of writers.
Should its existence be established the method might then be applied to cases

SOLUTION OF A LITERARY PROBLEM.

lOI

of disputed authorship. If striking diflferences are found of known and sus-
pected compositions of any writer, the evidence against identity of authorship
would be quite conclusive. If the two compositions should produce curves
which are practically identical, the proof of a common origin would be less con-
vincing; for it is possible, although not probable, that two writers might show
identical characteristic curves.

With this conclusion the matter remained for more than ten years.
On innumerable occasions it was suggested that the process ought to be
applied to an examination of the writings of Bacon and Shakespeare
with a view of forever settling a controversy which will doubtless
forever remain unsettled. This, of course, had been all along in view,
but it involved an expenditure of time and labor in letter and word
counting quite beyond what might be expected from individual en-

7<f\ -

cov

s

PTJfST T ^H

9nfi -

1

\

DICKENS

ijvU

1

\,

1 ^n -

1

\

1 ou

/

\

100 -i

\

1

s.

sni

s

s

\

\

\

■~~

..^^

/ 2, i 4 S 6 7 8 9 10 II IZI3li ISlSn

'

Z50

LATIN
CAESAR

ZOO

150

100

\

t-

/

\

1

\

/

\

50

V

1

s

s

,

...

L

~~^

— .

i

?K(\

1

GREEK
EURIPIDES

200

/JO

V

■\

X

/

N

too

\,

\

s.

50

s.

s

\,

^

_

_^

^

] Z Z i ^ & 7 8 9 10 11 IZ 13 H 15 1617 J Z 3 4 J 6 7 Q 3 10 11 IZ 13 11 IS f& n

Fiii. a.

thusiasm. The operation is not one of thrilling interest, and volun-
teer assistance could not be depended upon when the number of things
to be counted and classified grew into millions.

That the method has been applied at last to this most curious and
yet most interesting question is entirely due to the liberality of Mr.
Augustus Heminway, of Boston, who kindly offered to defray the ex-
penses of the work, that is, to employ persons to count and classify
nearly two millions of words. Besides expressing my indebtedness to
Mr. Heminway, I wish to make grateful acknowledgment of the ex-

I02 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

cellent and entirely satisfactory manner in which the heavy task of
counting was performed by the ladies who undertook it, Mrs. Eichard
Mitchell and Miss Amy C. Whitman, of Worcester, Massachusetts.
Their intelligent interest in the problem itself, together with their
excellent knowledge of the various authors under examination and
familiarity with the literature of the Shakespearean period, contributed
greatly to the easy accomplishment of the work. The operation of
counting was greatly facilitated by the construction of a simple count-
ing machine by which a registration of a word of any given number of
letters was made by touching a button marked with that number. One
of the counters, with book in hand, called off 'five,' 'two,' 'three,' etc.,
as rapidly as possible, counting the letters in each word carefully and
taking the words in their consecutive order, the other registering, as
called, by pressing the proper buttons. Practice enabled the counters to
do the work with remarkable rapidity, so that, although they were
occupied for several months, the total time required was really only
about one-quarter of the original estimate. The work was very ex-
hausting, however, and could not be kept up satisfactorily more than
three to five hours each day. After some preliminary work the counting
of Shakespeare was seriously begun, and the result from the start with
the first group of a thousand words was a decided surprise. Two things
appeared from the beginning: Shakespeare's vocabulary consisted of
words whose average length was a trifle below four letters, less than
that of any writer of English before studied; and his word of greatest
frequency was the four-letter word, a thing never met with before. His
preference for the four-letter word may be said, indeed, to constitute
the striking characteristic of his composition. At first it was thought
that it might be a general characteristic of the English of his time, but
that was found to be not the case. Its appearance in the composition
of one or two of his contemporaries will be considered presently. Alto-
gether about 400,000 words of Shakespeare were counted and classified,
including, in whole or in part, nearly all of his most famous plays. His
'characteristic curve' is most persistent, that based on the first 50,000
words differing very little from that of the whole count. Two groups
have been formed by combining alternate small groups (single plays or
parts of plays) in a purely mechanical way, so as to include as nearly
as may be the same number of words in each. The curves correspond-
ing to them are plotted in Fig. 4, where, however, the differences have
been of necessity somewhat exaggerated in order to make them show
at all. The practical identity of these curves must be regarded as con-
vincing evidence of the soundness of the original assumption. Not all
of the Shakespeare count was completed at one time; other authors
were taken up, and it is worth noting that the counters declared their
ability to recognize Shakespeare by the mere 'run of words' without

SOLUTION OF A LITERARY PROBLEM.

lO'

''"M

^

[

'?00

/

\

/

\

1 '1(»

1

\

/

\

100

/

\

/

\

50

/

\

\

_J

v

--

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 IC!
Fig. 4. Shakespeare— TWO groups, about ,200,-
000 Words each.

knowing what book or author was in hand, more especially on account
of the exceptional excess of four-letter words.

The characteristic curve of
Bacon was developed along
with that of Shakespeare and
was based on his 'Henry VII./
the 'Advancement of Learning'
and a large number of his
shorter essays, the total num-
ber of words being nearly 200,-
000.

Besides these, extensive
counting was done from the
writings of Ben Jonson, Addi-
son, Milton, Beaumont and
Fletcher, Christopher Marlowe, Goldsmith and Lord Lytton and small
groups from a few more modern authors. It is possible, here, to give
only general conclusions and to exhibit the diagrams of the more im-
portant and interesting results.

One of the first questions likely to be raised is, when an author
Avrites both prose and poetry, will the two styles of composition follow
the same general law and show the same characteristic curves ? Unfor-
tunately it is not possible to answer this as completely as could be
desired, as no one has written enough in two or more different styles,
as prose, poetry, history, essay, drama, etc., to produce normal charac-
teristic diagrams. Several of the authors above named were examined
with this point in view, and while some of them exhibited somewhat
different curves in play writing and in essay or serious prose composition

in every case any marked pecu-
liarity found in one style was
also found in the other. A
good example of this is shown
in the two Shakespeare curves
of Fig. 5. The continuous line
is based on his 'Rape of Lu-
crece' and Tenus and Adonis,'
while the broken line is his
normal curve in play writing.
It will be noted that the
Shakespearean peculiarity of
an excessive use of four-
letter words is shown in the same degree in both and that
while there are apparent differences of considerable magnitude the
curves are really strikingly alike, every bend in on« having a correspond-

250

,y

I

200

4/

\^

/ /

\\

150

1

/

\

1

!

\

100

I

\\

•

\

^

50

t
If

N^

s

'\

s

S

■ — J

12 3 4

6

7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Fig. 5. SlIAKESPEARK POETRY PROSE.

I04

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

250

(

\,

200

/

^

>

/

\

\

150

\

100

\.

j

\

50

N

>, ■

\

--^

1 2 3 4 5 G 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Fig. 6. Two Gkoup.s, Ben Jonson.

ing flexure in the other. This is typical of all comparisons of different
styles of composition by the same author. Undoubtedly there will
always be found differences in the graphic representations of serious

prose compositions and those
of a higher vein, poetry or
play, by the same writer, but
the evidence at hand goes to
show that the leading personal
peculiarities of composition
will invariably be found in
both.

Fig. 6 shows the curves of
two groups of about 75,000
words each from the plays of
Ben Jonson, the most notable
literary contemporary of
Shakespeare. Their close agreement is another very satisfactory con-
firmation of the fundamental principle and their difference from the
Shakespearean curve is striking. It will be observed that Jonson follows
the usual practice of making use of the three-letter word most
frequently.

Fig. 7 shows the characteristic curves of Bacon and Shakespeare side
by side and may be regarded, perhaps, as the objective point of the
entire investigation. The reader is at liberty to draw any conclusions
he pleases from this diagram.

Should he conclude that, in view of the extraordinary differences in
these lines, it is clear that Bacon could not have Avritten the things
ordinarily attributed to Shakespeare, he may yet, possibly, be willing to
admit that, in Mr. Hemin-
way's own words, 'the question
still remains, who did?' As-
suming this question to be a
reasonable one, the method
now under consideration can
never do more than direct in-
quiry or suspicion.

During the progress of the
count it seemed as if the
Shakespearean peculiarity of 12345678

the excessive use of words of fic 7. k.vion..

four letters was unique, that

no other writer would be found with this characteristic. On work-
ing out the results of a very extensive count of the plays of Beaumont
and Fletcher, however, it was found that on the final average the num-

250

1 —

r—

^'

200

7f

V

\

\

\

150

-rv

100

V

\

\

i50

,7

"x

\

X

rrr

9 10 11 12 13 11 15 16
. ... SlIAKESPKABE .

SOLUTION OF A LITERARY PROBLEM.

105

■— ^

\

7

\

200

/

\

\

loO

7

\

/

\

lOU

/

\

r-

N

50

\-

r

*-

12 3
Fig. 8.—

4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
— Beaumont and Fletcher

J?HAKESPEARE.

ber of four-letter words was slightly greater than that of three letters,

although the excess was by no means so persistent in small groups. The

curve of their composition is,

on the whole, quite like that

of Shakespeare. The lack of

persistency of form among

small groups may be accounted

for by the fact that the work

is in a large, though unknown,

degree a joint product. The

comparison with Shakespeare

is shown in Fig. 8.

It was in the counting
and plotting of the plays of
Christopher Marlowe, how-
ever, that something akin to a. sensation was produced among
those actually engaged in the work. Here was a man to whom
it has always been acknowledged, Shakespeare was deeply indebted; one
of whom able critics have declared that he 'might have written the
plays of Shakespeare.' Indeed a book has been only recently pub-
lished to prove that he did write them. Even this did not lessen
the interest with which it was discovered that in the characteristic

curve of his plays Christopher
Marlowe agrees with Shakes-
peare about as well as Shakes-
peare agrees with himself, as is
shown in Fig. 9. Finally, an
interesting incident developed
in an examination of a bit of
dramatic composition by Pro-
fessor Shaler, of Harvard Uni-
versity, entitled 'Armada
Days.' It was a brochure of
only about twenty thou-
sand words, printed for private circulation, in which the author had
endeavored to compose in the spirit and style of the Elizabethan Age.
Although too small to produce anything like a 'normal' curve it was
counted and plotted, and the diagram indicated that Professor Shaler
had not only caught the spirit of the literature of the time, but that he
had also unconsciously adopted the mechanism which seems to charac-
terize it. In the excess of the four-letter word and in other respects
the curve was rather decidedly Shakespearean, although it was written
before its author knew anvthinor of such an analvsis as this.

•250

^

200

1

\

1

\

1 50

\

\

100

\

\

\

■>0

\

s

V,

^

12 3 4
Fig. 9. —

6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 Iti
Mari.owe Shakespeare.

io6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE IMPOKTANCE OF GENERAL STATISTICAL IDEAS.*

By Sir ROBERT GIFFEN, K.C.B., LL.D., F.R.S.

I TRUST you will excuse me, on an occasion like the present, for
returning to a topic which I have discussed more than once — the
utility of common statistics. While we are indebted for much of our
statistical knowledge to elaborate special inquiries, such as were made
by Mr. Jevons on prices and the currency, or have lately been made by
Mr. Booth into the condition of the London poor, we are indebted for
other knowledge to continuous official and unofficial records, which keep
us posted up to date as to certain facts of current life and business,
without which public men and men of business, in the daily concerns
of life, would be very much at a loss. What seems to me always most
desirable to understand is the importance of some of the ideas to be
derived from the most common statistics of the latter kind — the regular
records of statistical facts which modem societies have instituted,
especially the records of the census, which have now existed for a
century in most European countries and among peoples of Eu-
ropean origin. Political ideas and speculation are necessarily colored
by ideas originating in such records, and political action, internationally
and otherwise, would be all the wiser if the records were more carefully
observed than they are, and the lessons to be derived widely appreciated
and understood.

I propose now to refer briefly to one or two of these ideas which
were taken up and discussed on former occasions,! and to illustrate the
matter farther by a reference to one or two additional topics suggested
in the same manner, and more particularly by the results of the last
census investigations, which complete in this respect the record of what
may be called the statistical century par excellence — the century which
has just closed.

Increase of European Population during last Century.

The first broad fact then of this kind, which I have discussed on
former occasions, is the enormous increase of the population of Eu-

* Address of the President to the Economic Science and Statistics Section of
the British Association for the Advancement of Science. Glasgow, 1901.

t Cf. Essays in Finance, 2nd series, pp. 275-364, and Proceedings of Man-
chester Statistical Society, October 17, 1900.

DIPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS. 107

ropean countries and of peoples of European origin during the century
just passed, especially the increase of the English people and of the
United States, along with the comparative stationariness of the popu-
lation of one or two of the countries, particularly France, at the same
time. The growth all round is from about 170 millions at the begin-
ning of the century to about 510 millions (excluding South American
countries and Mexico) ; while the growth of the United States alone is
from a little over 5 to nearly 80 millions, and of the English population
of the British Empire from about 15 to 55 millions. Germany and
Eussia also show remarkable growth, from 20 to 55 millions in the one
case and from 40 to 135 millions in the other — partly due to annexa-
tion; but the growth of France is no more than from 25 to 40 millions.
Without discussing it, we may understand that the economic growth is
equally if not more remarkable. The effect necessarily is to assure the
preponderance of European peoples among the races of the world —
to put aside completel)'-, for instance, the nightmares of yellow or black
perils arising from the supposed overwhelming mass of yellow or black
races, these races by comparison being stationary or nearly so. The
increase of population being continuous, unless some startling change
occurs before long, each year only makes European preponderance more
secure. Equally it follows that the relative position of the English
Empire, the United States, Eussia and Germany has become such as
to make them exclusively the great world powers, although France, for
economic reasons, notwithstanding the stationariness of its population,
may still be classed amongst them. When one thinks what interna-
tional politics were only a hundred years ago — how supreme France
then appeared; how important were Austria, Italy, Spain, and even
countries like Holland, Denmark and Sweden — we may surely recog-
nize that with a comparatively new United States on the stage, and
with powers like Eussia and Germany come to the front, the world is all
changed politically as well as economically, and that new passions and
new rivalries have to be considered.

The figures also suggest that for some time at least the movements
going on must accentuate the change that has occurred. According to
the latest figures, there is no sign that either in France or any other
European country which has been comparatively stationary has any
growth of population commenced which will reverse the change, while
a large increase of population goes on in the leading countries named.
This increase, it is alleged, is going on at a diminishing rate — a point
to be discussed afterwards — but in the next generation or two there is
practically no doubt that the United States will be a larger interna-
tional factor than it is, both absolutely and relatively, and that Eussia,
Germany and the English people of the British Empire will also grow,
though not in such a way, apparently, as to prevent the greater relative

io8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

growth of the United States, and notwithstanding perhaps some rela-
tive changes of a minor character amongst themselves.

The foreign nations then with which the British Empire is likely
lo be concerned in the near future are Eussia, Germany and the United
States; and other Powers, even France, must more and more occupy a
second place, although France, for the moment, partly in consequence
of its relations with Eussia, occupies a special place.

Special Position of British Empire.

Another idea which follows from a consideration of the same facts
is the necessity laid upon the British Empire to consolidate and organ-
ize itself in view of the large additions of subject races made to it in the
last century, and especially in the last twenty years of the century. In a
paper which I read before the Eoyal Colonial Institute two years ago, an
attempt was made to show that the burden imposed on the white races
cf the Empire by these recent acquisitions was not excessive as far as
the prospect of internal tumults was concerned. Eelatively to some
other Powers, especially France, we have also been gaining inter-
tionally in strength and resources. But whether we had gained inter-
nationally on the whole, looking at the growth of powers like Eussia,
the United States and Germany, and their greater activity in world-
politics, was a different question. The problem thus stated remains. It
would be foreign to the scope of an address like this, which must avoid
actual politics, to examine how far light has been thrown on it by the
South African war. No one can question at least that the organization
of the Empire must be governed by considerations which the interna-
tional statistics suggest, and that no step can be taken safely and
properly unless our public men fully appreciate the ideas of interna-
tional strength and resources as well as other considerations which
are germane to the subject.

Europe and Foreign Food Supplies.

Another idea to which attention may be drawn appears to be the
increasing dependence of European nations upon supplies of food and
raw material obtained from abroad. We are familiar with a conception
of this kind as regards the United Kingdom. For years past we have
drawn increasing supplies from abroad, not merely in proportion to the
growth of population, but in larger proportion. The position here
obviously is that, with the industries of agi'iculture and the extraction
of raw material (except as regards the one article, coal) practically
incapable of expansion, and with a population which not only increases
in numbers, but which becomes year by year increasingly richer per
head, the consuming power of the population increases with enormous

IMPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS.

109

rapidity, and must be satisfied, if at all, by foreign imports of food and
raw materials; there is no other means of satisfaction. But what is
true of the United Kingdom is true in a greater or less degree of cer-
tain European countries — France, the Low Countries, the Scandinavian
countries, Austria-Hungary, Italy and Germany. Especially is it true
in a remarkable degree of Germany, which is becoming increasingly
industrial and manufacturing, and where the room for expansion in
agriculture is now very limited. Those interested in the subject may
be referred to an excellent paper by Mr. Crawford, read at the Royal
Statistical Society of London about two years ago. What I am now
desirous to point out is the governing nature of the idea, which neces-
sarily follows from the conception of a European population living on
a limited area, with the agricultural and extractive possibilities long
since nearly exhausted, and the population all the time increasing in
numbers and wealth. Such a population must import more and
more year by year, and must be increasingly dependent on foreign
supplies.

I shall not attempt to do over again what is done in Mr. Crawford's
paper, but a few figures may serve to illustrate what is meant. In the
'Statistical Abstract' for the principal and other foreign countries I
find tables for certain European countries classifying the imports for
a series of years into articles of food, raw and semi-manufactured arti-
cles, etc. From these I extract the following particulars for all the
countries which have tables in this form :

Imports of Articles of Food and Raio Materials and Semi-manufactured Arti-
cles into the undermentioned Countries in 1888 ayid 1898 compared.

Increase.

Amount.

Per Cent.

Russia 1,000 roubles

German Empire, mln. marks

France 1,000 francs

Switzerland ... "

Italy 1,000 lire

Austria-Hungary, 1,000
gulden

icLES OF Food, etc.

78,975

105,391

27,416

35

907

1,819

912

100

1,503,000

1,505,000

Nil

Ml

238,000

332,000

94,000

40

274,480

391,600

117,120

42

(1891)

108,441

191,919

92,478

85

Raw and Semi-manufacttjeed Materials.

Russia 1,000 roubles I 241,497

German Empire, mln. marks 1,507

France 1,000 francs | 2,014

Switzerland ... " ' .308,110

Italy 1,000 lire 398,330

Austria-Hungai-y, 1,000

gulden I 231,000

313,629

2,247

2,348

390,111

509,418

293,000

71,132
740
334

82,001
111,088

62,000

29
49
16

27
28

27

no POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The drawback to this table is that it is one of values. Con-
sequently the increase of values in the later years may in part be
one of values only without corresponding increase of quantities.
But the general course of prices in the period in question was not
such as to cause a great change of values apart from a change in
quantities. The inference seems undeniable, then, that the Conti-
nental countries named, especially Germany, have largely increased
their imports of food and raw materials of recent years — that is,
have become increasingly dependent on foreign and over-sea sup-
plies. The position of Germany, with its enormous increase of food
imports — from 907 to 1,819 million Marks, or from 45 to over 90
million sterling, and its corresponding increase of raw material im-
ports— from 1,507 to 2,247 million Marks, or from 75 to 112 million
sterling — is especially remarkable.

An examination in detail of the quantities imported of particular
articles would fully confirm the impression given by the summary
5gures. But it may be enough to refer to the 'Statistical Abstract' from
which I have been quoting, as well as to Mr. Crawford's paper. The
iigures are not out of the way in any respect, and it is the idea we have
now to get hold of.

The inference is that the difference between the United Kingdom
and Continental countries, especially Germany, as regards dependence on
foreign supplies of food and raw materials, is only one of degree, and
that as regards Germany at least, the conditions are already remarkably
like those of the United Kingdom, while the more rapidly Germany in-
creases its manufacturing and industrial population, the more like it
will become to this country. In other words, in the future there will
be two great countries, and not one only, dependent largely for their
food and raw materials on supplies from abroad. What their position
is to be economically and otherwise relatively to the United States,
which is at once the main source of supply and a competitor with Eu-
ropean countries in manufactures, is obviously a matter of no little in-
terest. As a believer in free trade, I am sure that nothing but good
will come to all the countries concerned if trade is interfered with as
little as possible by tariffs and government regulations. I believe,
moreover, that the practice of free trade, whatever their theories may
be, will unavoidably be accepted by all three countries before long.
Obviously, however, as the new tariff in Germany indicates, there is to
be a great struggle in that country before the situation is accepted ; and
if some people in this country had their way, notwithstanding our long
experience of free trade and its blessings, we should even have a strug-
gle here.

There is another point of view from which the facts should be
studied. We are accustomed, and rightly so, I think, to consider naval

IMPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS. m

preponderance indispensable to the safety of the Empire, and especially
indispensable to the safety of the country from blockade, and from the
interruption of its commerce, which would be our ruin. But our posi-
tion in this respect is apparently not quite exceptional. Less or more
our Continental neighbors, and especially Germany, are in the same
boat. In the event of war, if they could not make up the loss by traffic
over their land frontiers, they would be just as liable to suffer from
blockade and interrupted commerce as we are. It is conceivable, more-
over, that in certain wars some of the countries might not be able to
make up by traffic over their land frontiers for blockade or interruption
of commerce by sea. We may apprehend, for instance, that Germany,
if it were victorious by sea in a war with France, would insist upon
Belgium and Holland on one side, and Italy and Spain on the other
side, not supplying by land to France what had been cut off by sea.
One or more of these countries might be allies with Germany from the
first. Contrariwise France and Russia, if at war with Germany and
the Triple Alliance, might practically seal up Germany if they were
successful at sea, insisting that the Scandinavian countries and Hol-
land should not make up to Germany by land what had been cut off
by sea. Germany in this view, apart from any possibility of rupture
wdth this country, has a case for a powerful fleet. It is not quite so
much liable to a blockade as we are, but there is a liability of the same
kind. The question of naval preponderance among rival powers may
thus become rather a serious one. If preponderance is to be nearly
as essential to Germany as it is to this country, who is to preponderate ?
What our practical action ought to be in the premises is a question that
might easily lead us too far on an occasion like this, but the facts should
be ever present to the minds of our public men. We may be quite cer-
tain that they are quite well known and understood in the councils
of the Eussian, German, French and other Continental Govern-
ments.

New Population and New Markets.

Another idea suggested by the facts appears to be an answer to the
question as to how new markets are to be found for the products of an
increasing population — a question which vexes the mind of many who
see in nothing but foreign trade an outlet for new energies. The point
was mentioned in my address at Manchester a year ago, but it deserves,
perhaps, a more elaborate treatment than it was possible then to give it.
What we see then is that not only in this country, but in Germany and
other Continental countries, millions of new people are, in fact, pro-
vided for in every ten years, although the resources of the country in
food and raw materials are generally used to the full extent, and not
capable of farther expansion, so that increasing supplies of food and

112 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

raw material have to be imported from abroad. How is the thing done ?
Obviously the main provision for the wants of the new people is effected
by themselves. They exchange services with each other, and so procure
the major part of the comforts and luxuries of life which they require.
The butcher, the baker, the tailor, the dressmaker, the milliner, the
shoemaker, the builder, the teacher, the doctor, the lawyer, and so on,
are all working for each other the most part of their lives, and the
proportion of exchanges with foreign countries necessary to procure
some things required in the general economy may be very small. These
exchanges may also very largely take the form of a remittance of goods
by foreign countries in payment of interest on debts which they owe, so
that the communities in question obtain much of what they want from
abroad by levying a kind of rent or annuity which the foreigner has to
pay. If more is required, it may be obtained by special means, as, for
instance, by the working of coal for export, which gives employment in
this country to about 200,000 miners, by the employment of shipping
in the carrying trade, by the manufacture of special lines of goods, and
so on. But the main exchanges of any country are, and must be,
as a rule, at home, and the foreign trade, however important, will always
remain within limits, and bearing some proportion to the total ex-
changes of the country. Hence, when additions to the population, and
how they are to live, are considered, the answer is that the additions
will fill up proportionately the framework of the various industries
already in existence, or the ever-changing new industries for home con-
sumption which are always starting into being. These are the primary
outlets for new population even in old countries like the United King-
dom and Germany. Of course, active traders and manufacturers, each
in their own way, are not to take things for granted. They must strive
to spread their activities over foreign as well as over home markets.
But looking at the matter from the outside, and scientifically, it is
the home and not the foreign market which is always the more im-
portant.

The same may be said of a country in a somewhat difl'erent economic
condition from England and Germany, viz., the United States. I can
only refer to it, however, in passing, as the facts here are not so clearly
on the surface. Contrary to England and Germany, which have no food
resources and resources of raw material capable of indefinite expansion,
the United States is still to a large extent a virgin country. Its increas-
ing population is therefore provided for in a different way for the most
part from the increase in England and Germany. But even in the
United States it has been noticeable at each of the last census returns
that the increasing population finds an outlet more and more largely,
not in agriculture and the extraction of raw materials, but in the mis-
cellaneous pursuits of industry and manufacture. The tovm population

IMPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS. 113

increases disproportionately. In the last census especially it was found
that the overflow of population over the far Western States seemed to
have been checked, the increase of population being mainly in the older
States and the towns and cities of the older States. The phenomena
in England and Germany and in other Continental countries are
accordingly not singular. The older countries, and the older parts even
of a new country like the United States are becoming more and more
the centers where populations live and grow, because they are the most
convenient places for the general exchange of services with each other
among the component parts of a large population, which constitutes pro-
duction and consumption. A small expenditure of effort in proportion
enables such communities to obtain from a distance the food and raw
materials which they require. Migration is no longer the necessity that
it was.

Decline in Rate of Growth of Population.

I come now to another idea appearing on the surface of the census
returns when they are compared for a long time past, and the con-
nected returns of births, marriages and deaths, which have now been
kept in most civilized communities for generations. Great as the
increase of population is with which we have been dealing, there are
indications that the rate of growth in the most recent census periods
is less in many quarters than it formerly was, while there has been a
corresponding decline in the birth-rates; and to some extent, though
not to the same extent, in the rate of the excess of births over deaths,
which is the critical rate of course in a question of the increase of popu-
lation. These facts have suggested to some a question as to how far
the increase of population which has been so marked in the past cen-
tury is likely to continue, and speculations have been indulged in as to
whether there is a real decline in the fecundity of population among
the peoples in question resembling the decline in France, both in its
nature and consequences. I do not propose to discuss all these various
questions, but rather to indicate the way in which the problem is sug-
gested by the statistics, and the importance of the questions thus raised
for discussion, as a proof of the value of the continuous statistical
records themselves.

The United States naturally claims first attention in a matter like
this, both on' account of the magnitude of the increase of population
there, and the evidence that recent growth has not been quite the same
as it was earlier in the century. Continuing a table which was printed
in my address as president of the Statistical Society, in 1882, above
referred to, we find that the growth of population in the United States
since 1800 has been as follows in each census period :

VOL. LX. — 8.

114

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Population in the United States, and Increase in each Census Period of the

Nineteenth Century.

Year.

Population.

Increase since Previous Census.

Amount.

Per Cent.

1800

Millions.

5.3

7.2

9.6

12.9

17.1

23.2

31.4

38.5

50.1

62.6

75.7*

Millious.

1.9
2.4

3.3

4.2

6.1

8.2

7.1
11.6
12.5
13.1

36
33
34
33
36
36
23
30
25
21

1810

1820

1830

1840

1850

I860

1870

1880

1890

1900

Thus it is quite plain that something has happened in the United
States to diminish the rate of increase of population after 1860. Up
to that time the growth in each census period from 1800 downwards
had ranged between 33 and 36 per cent. Since then the highest rates
have been 30 per cent, between 1870 and 1880 and 25 per cent: between
1880 and 1890. There is a suspicion, moreover, that, owing to errors
in the census of 1870, which were corrected in 1880, the increase be-
tween 1870 and 1880 was not quite so high as stated. There is accord-
ingly a somewhat steep decline from a growth in each ten years prior to
1860, ranging between 33 and 36 per cent., to a growth first of about
25 per cent., and finally of 21 per cent. only. The Civil War of the
early sixties naturally occurs to one as the explanation of the
break immediately after 1860, but the effects could hardly have
continued to the present time, and a more general explanation is sug-
gested.

Other special explanations have occurred to me as partly account-
ing for the change. One is that, prior to 1860, the United States at
different times increased its territory and population partly by purchase
and partly by annexation. But I cannot make out that either the pur-
chase of Louisiana early in the century, or the subsequent annexations
following the Mexican war, would make a material difference. There
is a considerable increase certainly after the Mexican war, but it would
be difficult indeed to estimate how much of the population of Texas
and New Mexico, which was then added to the Union, had previously
swarmed over from the Union, and had thus been from the first
economically, if not politically, part of the United States. Another
obvious suggestion is that possibly immigration into the United States

* This does not include population of Indian reservation, etc., now in-
cluded in the ofl5cial census for the first time.

IMPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS.

II 1

has fallen off as compared with what it formerly was. But this ex-
planation also fails, as far as the oflBcial figures carry us. The pro-
portion of immigration to the total increase of population in each
census period since 1820, previous to which I have not been able to
obtain figures, has been as follows :

Proportion of Immigration to Total Increase of Population in the undermen-
tioned Periods in the United States.

Per Cent.

1860-70 35.0

1870-80 24.2

Per Cent.

1820-30 4.7

1830-40 14.2

1840-50 27.9

1850-60 31.5

1880-90 42.1

1890-1900 29.4

Immigration, according to these figures, has thus in late years
played as important a part as it formerly did in the increase of popula-
tion in the United States. Possibly the official figures of immigration
of late years are a little exaggerated, as the United States Government
does not show a balance between immigration and emigration; but
whatever corrections may be made on this account, the recent figures of
immigration are too large to permit the supposition that the failure
of immigrants accounts in the main for the diminished rate of increase
of the population generally. The ten years' percentage of increase
without immigrants, I may say, varied before 1860 between 24 and 33
per cent., and has since fallen to 14 and 15 per cent. Even if the latter
figures should be increased a little to allow for the overestimate of
immigration, the change would be enormous.

Passing from the United States, we meet with similar phenomena in

Australasia. Indeed, what has happened in Australasia of late has been

attracting a good deal of attention. The following short table, which

is extracted from the statistics of Mr. Coghlan, the able statistician

of the Government of New South Wales, gives an idea of what has

occurred :

Population of Australasia at different Dates, vnth the Annual Increase

Per Cent, in each Period.

Annual

Annual

Population.

Increase Per

Cent, since

Previous Date.

Population.

Increase Per

Cent, since

Previous Date.

Thousands.

Thousands.

1788

1.0

1

1851

430.6

7.36

1801 ....

6.5

15.13

; 1861

1,253.0

11.30

1811

11.5

11.94

1 1871

1,924.8

4.39

1821

35.6

5.88 !

' 1881

2,742.5

3.60

1831

79.3

8.34

j 1891

3,809.9

3.34

1841

211.1

10.28

1899

4,483.0

2.1

Supplementary Table of Rate per Cent, of Increase since 1890.

Per Cent. Per Cent.

1891.
1892.
1893.
1894.
1895.

.3.34
.2.10
.1.96
.1.95
.1.88

1896.
1897.
1898.
1899.

.1.84
.1.86
.1.40
,1.44

ii6

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The decline in the rate of increase is so great and palpable as to need
no comment.

Here the perturbations due to immigration have obviously been
greater than in the case of the United States. The country was, in
fact, settled mainly between 1850 and 1870, without previously having
had a population to speak of. But deducting immigration, the increase
would appear to have been as follows in each decade :

Rate of Increase Per Cent, of Population in Australasia, deducting
Immigration, in the undermentioned Periods.

Per Cent. Per Cent.

1851-60 48.5

1860-70 30.0

1870-8U 25.0

1880-90 24.5

1890-99 16.0

Of course, so long as immigration continues, the effect is to swell
indirectly the natural increase of population, so that the large increases
here shown between 1851 and 1870, and even down to 1890, may be
accounted for in part as the indirect result of the large immigration
that was going on. But whatever the cause, the fact is unmistakable
that the rate of increase, apart from the direct immigration, has
declined just as it has done in the United States.

There has been a similar though not nearly so marked a decrease in
England, at any rate if we carry the comparison back to the period
before 1850. The population at each census period since 1800 in
England, with the percentage increase between each census period, has
been as follows :

*

Population of England at the Date of each Census since 1800 unth Percentage

of Increase hettoeen each Census.

Increase Per

Increase Per

Year.

Population.

Cent. Since
Previous
Census.

Year.

Population.

Cent. Since
Previous
Census.

Millions.

Millions.

1800

8.9

—

1860

20.1

11.9

1810

10.2

14.0

1870

22.7

13.2

1820

12.0

18.1

1880

26.0

14.4

1830

13.9

15.8

1890

29.0

11.6

1840

15.9

14.5

1900

32.3

12.2

1850

17.9

12.9

Thus the increase between recent census periods has been sensibly
less than it was before 1850; and the slight recovery between 1860 and
1880 has not been maintained. We are thus in presence of much the
same kind of change as has been shown in the United States and in
Australasia.

It should be noted, however, in order that we may not strain any
fact, that, when the United Kingdom is viewed as a whole, Scotland

IMPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS.

117

and Ireland, as well as the senior partner, being taken into account,
it cannot be said that there is any falling off in the rate of growth of
the population since 1850. For several decades after that, in fact, the
rate of growth of the United Kingdom as a whole was diminished
enormously by the emigration from Ireland, and the growth since 1860
has been at a greater rate than in the thirty years before. There may
be new causes at work which will again diminish the rate of growth,
but in a broad view they do not make themselves visible owing to the
disturbance caused by the Irish emigration. Still the facts as to the
United Kingdom as a whole ought not to prevent us from considering
the facts respecting England only along with the similar facts respect-
ing the United States and Australasia.

These diminutions in the rate of growth of large populations, as I
have indicated, are corroborated by a study of the birth-rates, and of the
rate of the excess of births over deaths.

The United States unfortunately is without birth- or death-rates,
owing to the want of a general system of registration over the whole
country. This is a most serious defect in the statistical arrangements
of that great country, which it may be hoped will be remedied in time.
In the absence of the necessary records I have made some calculations so
as to obtain a figure which may be provisionally substituted for a proper
rate of the excess of births over deaths, which I submit for what it may
be worth as an approximation, and an approximation only. In these
calculations one-tenth of the increase of population between two census
periods, apart from immigration, is compared with the mean of the
population at the two census dates themselves, with the following
results :

Approximate Rate of Excess of Births over Deaths in the United States, calcu-
lated from a Comparison of One-tenth the Increase of Population between
the Census Periods, deducting Immigrants, loith the Mean of the Numbers
of the Population at the two Census Dates.

Year.

1
Population.

2

Mean of Popula-
tion Between
Two Censuses.

3

One-tenth of In-
crease Since
Previous Census,
Less Immigrants.

4
Calculated Excess

of Births Over

Deaths per 1,000,

Proportion of

Col. 3 to Col. 2.

1800

1810

1820

1830

1840

1850

1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

Millions.

5.3

7.2

9.6
12.9
17.1
23.2
31.4
38.5
50.2
62.6
75.7

Millions.

6.2

8.4
11.2
15.0
20.1
27.3
35.0
44.4
56.4
69.2

Thousands.

308
360
441
565
462
878
722
923

28
24
22
21
13
20
13
13

ii8

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Thus, while the excess rate was as high as 21 to 28 per 1,000 before
1860, it has since fallen to one of 13 only, or about one-half. Whatever
validity may attach to the method of calculation, the real facts would
no doubt show a change in the direction of the table — a decline in the
rate of the excess of births over deaths from period to period. The
decline in the growth of population is thus not merely the direct effect
of a change in immigration, but is connected vdth the birth- and death-
rates themselves, although these rates are of course indirectly affected
by the amount and proportion of immigration. It would be most im-
portant to know what the decline in the birth-rate is by itself, and
how far its effects on the growth of population have been mitigated or
intensified by changes in the death-rate; but United States records
generally give no help on this head.

Dealing with Australasia in the same way, we have the advantage
of a direct comparison of both birth- and death-rates and the rate of
the excess of births over deaths. This is done in the following table :

Birth-rate and Death-rate and Rate of Excess of Births over Deaths in Aus-
tralasia for undermentioned Years.
[From Mr. Coghlan's Statistics]

Birth-rate.

Death-rate.

Excess of Births
Over Deaths.

1861-65

41.92

16.75

25.17

1866-70

39.84

15.62

24.22

1871-75

37.34

15.26

22.08

1876-80

36.38

15.04

21.34

1881-85

35.21

14.79

20.42

1886-90

34.43

13.95

20.48

1891-95

31.52

12.74

18.78

1896-99

27.35

12.39

14.96

Thus from a high birth-rate forty years ago Australasia has cer-
tainly gone down to very ordinary birth-rates, lower than in the United
Kingdom and in Continental countries, and Australasia certainly has
had heavy declines in the rate of excess of births over deaths, viz., from
25.17 in 1861-65 to 15 in 1896-99, which is to be compared with the
decline in the United States, as above stated approximately, from 28 in
1820-30, and 21 as late as 1860, to 13 in the last twenty years.

A similar table for England only gives the following results :

Birth-rate and Death-rate and Rate of Excess of Births over Deaths in England

for undermentioned^ Years.

1851.
1861.
1871.
1881.
1891.
1899.

Birth-rate per
1,000.

34.2
34.6
35.0
33.9
31.4
29.3

Death-rate per
1,000.

22.0
21.6
22.6
18.9
20.2
18.3

Excess of Birth-rate
Over Death-rate.

12.2
13.0
12.4
15.0
11.2
11.0

iVo^e.— Highest birth-rate in 1876, 36.3.

IMPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS. 119

Here the birth-rates, to begin with, are not so high as in Australasia,
and presumably in the United States, and the excess of births over
deaths, though it has declined a good deal since 1871-81, when it was
highest, has been by comparison fairly well maintained, being still 11
per 1,000, as compared with 12.2 in 1851.

We have thus on one side a manifest decline in the rate of growth
of population in three large groups of population, coupled with a large
decline of birth-rates in England and Australasia where the facts are
known, and a smaller decline in the rate of the excess of births over
deaths, this decline in England as yet being comparatively small. Such
facts cannot but excite inquiry, and it is an excellent result of the use
of continuous statistical records that the questions involved can be so
definitely raised.

As I have stated, it would be foreign to the object of this paper to
discuss fully the various questions thus brought up for discussion, but
one or two observations may be made having regard to some inferences
which are somewhat hastily drawn.

1. The rate of growth of population of the communities may still
be very considerable, even if it is no higher than it has been in the
last few years. A growth of 16, 15, or even 12 per cent, in ten years,
owing to the excess of births over deaths, is a very considerable growth,
though it is much less than the larger figures which existed in some
parts forty or fifty years ago. What has happened in the United King-
dom is well worth observing in this connection. Since 1840 the popu-
lation of the United Kingdom as a whole has increased nearly 60 per
cent., although the increase in most of the decades hardly ever exceeded
8 per cent., and in 1840-50 was no more than 2i/^ per cent. The
increase, it must be remembered, goes on at a compound ratio, and in.
a few decades an enormous change is apparent. The increase from
about 170 to 510 millions in the course of the last century among Eu-
ropean people generally, though it includes the enormous growth of the
United States in those decades, when the rate of growth was at the
highest, also includes the slower growth of other periods, and the slower
growths of other countries. An addition of even 10 per cent, only as
the average every ten years would far more than double the 500 millions
in a century, and an increase to at least 1,500 millions during the cen-
tury now beginning, unless some great change should occur, would
accordingly appear not improbable.

2. Some of the rates of growth of population from which there has
been a falling off of late years were obviously quite abnormal. I refer
especially to the growth in Australasia between 1850 and 1880, and
the growth in the United States prior to 1860. They were largely due
to the indirect effect of immigration which has been already referred to.

The population to which immigrants are largely added in a few

I20 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

years, owing to the composition of the population, has its birth-rates
momentarily increased and its death-rates diminished — the birth-rates
because there are more people relatively at the child-producing ages,
and the death-rates because the whole population is younger, than in
older countries. It appears quite unnecessary to elaborate this point.
The rates of the excess of births over deaths in a country which is
receiving a large immigration must be quite abnormal compared with
a country in a more normal condition, while a country from which
there is a large emigration, such as Ireland, must tend to show a lower
excess than is consistent with a normal condition. This explanation, it
may be said, does not apply to England, since it is a country which has
not been receiving a large immigration or sending out, except occa-
sionally, a large emigration. England, however, must have been
affected both ways by movements of this character. It received un-
doubtedly a large Irish immigration in the early part of last century,
and in more recent periods the emigration in some decades, particularly
between 1880 and 1890, appears to have been large enough to have
a sensible effect on both the birth-rate and the rate of the excess of births
over deaths. This efCect would be continued down into the following
decade, and the consideration is therefore one to be taken note of as
accounting in part for the recent decline in birth-rates in England.

In addition, however, it is not improbable that there was an
abnormal increase of population in the early part of last century, due
to the sudden multiplication of resources for the benefit of a poor
population which had previously tended to grow at a very rapid rate,
and would have grown at that rate but for the checks of war, pestilence
and famine, on which Malthus enlarges. The sudden withdrawal of
the checks in this view would thus be the immediate cause of the
singularly rapid growth of population in the early part of last century.
It is quite in accordance with this fact that a generation or two of
prosperity, raising the scale of living, would diminish the rate of growth
as compared with this abnormal development, without affecting in any
degree the permanent reproductive energy of the people,

3. It is also obvious that one explanation of the decline in birth-
rate, and of the rate of the excess of births over deaths, may also be the
greater vitality of the populations concerned, so that the composition
of the population is altered by an increase of the relative numbers of
people not in the prime of life, so altering the proportion of the people
at the child-producing ages to the total. This would be too complex a
subject for me to treat in the course of a discursive address. Nor would
it explain the whole facts, which include, for instance, an almost sta-
tionary annual number of births in the United Kingdom for more than
ten years past, notwithstanding the largely increased population. But
the case may be one where a great many partial explanations contribute

IMPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS. 121

to elucidate the phenomena, so that this particular explanation cannot
be overlooked.

4. There remains, however, the question which many people have
rushed in to discuss — viz., whether the reproductive power of the popu-
lations in question is quite as great as it was fifty or sixty years ago.
We have already heard in some quarters, not merely that the repro-
ductive energy has diminished, but suggestions that the populations in
question are following the example of the French, where the rate of
increase of the population has almost come to an end. Apart, however,
from the suggestions above made as to the abnormality of the increase
fifty or sixty years ago, so that some decline now is rather to be ex-
pected than not, I would point out that the subject is about as full of
pitfalls as any statistical problem can be, for the simple reason that it
can only be approached indirectly, as there have been no statistical
records over a long series of years showing the proportion of births to
married women at the child-producing ages, distinguishing the ages,
and showing at the same time the proportion of the married women to
the total at those ages. Unless there are some such statistics, direct
comparisons are impossible, and a good many of the indirect methods
of approaching the subject which I have studied a little appear, to say
the least, to leave much to be desired. We find, for instance, that a
comparison has been made in Australasia between the number of mar-
riages in a given year or years and the number of births in the five or
six years following, which show, it is said, a remarkable decline in the
proportion of births to marriages in recent years as compared with
twenty or thirty years ago. It is forgotten, however, that at the
earlier dates in Australasia, when a large immigration was taking
place, a good many of the children born were the children of parents
who had been married before they entered the country, while there are
hardly any children of such parents at a time when immigration has
almost ceased. The answer to such questions is in truth not to be
rushed, and the question with statisticians should rather be how the
statistics are to be improved in future, so that, although the past
cannot be fully explained, the regular statistics themselves will in
future give a ready answer.

5. One more remark may, perhaps, be allowed to me on account of
the delicacy and interest of the subject. To a certain extent the
causes of a decline in reproductive energy may be part and parcel of
the improved condition of the population, which leads in turn to an
increase of the age at marriage, and an increase of celibacy generally
through the indisposition of individual members of the community to
run any risk of sinking in the scale of living which they may run by
premature mai-riage. These causes, however, may operate to a great
extent upon the birth-rate itself without diminishing the growth of

122 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

population, because the children, though born in smaller proportion,
are better cared for, and the rate of excess of births over deaths conse-
quently remains considerable, although the birth-rate itself is low.
The serious fact would be a decline of the rate of the excess of births
over deaths through the death-rate remaining comparatively high
while the birth-rate falls. It is in this conjunction that the gravity of
the stationariness of population in France appears to lie. While the
birth-rate in France is undoubtedly a low one, 21.9 per 1,000 in 1899,
according to the latest figures before me, still this would have been
quite sufficient to ensure a considerable excess rate of births over
deaths, and a considerable increase of population every ten years if the
death-rate had been as low as in the United Kingdom — viz., 18.3 per
1,000. A diiference of 3.6 per 1,000 upon a population of about 40
millions comes to about 150,000 per annum, or 1,500,000 and rather
more every ten years. In France, however, the death-rate was 21.1
per 1,000, instead of 18.3, as in the United Kingdom, and it is this
comparatively high death-rate which really makes the population
stationary. The speculations indulged in some quarters, therefore,
though they may be justified in future, are hardly yet justified by the
general statistical facts. The subject is one of profound interest, and
must be carefully studied; but the conclusions I have referred to must
be regarded as premature until the study has been made.

Conclusion.
Such are a few illustrations of the importance of the ideas Avhich
are suggested by the most common statistics — those of the regular
records which civilized societies have instituted. It is, indeed, self-
evident how important it is to know such facts as the growing weight
of countries of European civilization in comparison with others; the
relative growth of the British Empire, Eussia, Germany and the
United States, in comparison with other nations of Europe or of Euro-
pean origin; the dependence of other European countries as well as
the United Kingdom upon imports of food and raw materials; the
ability of old countries and of old centers in new countries to maintain
large and increasing populations; and the evidence which is now
accumulating of changes in the rate of growth of European nations,
with suggestions as to the causes of the changes. It would be easy,
indeed, to write whole chapters on some of the topics instead of making
a remark or two only to bring out their value a little. It would also
be very easy to add to the list. There was a strong temptation to in-
clude in it a reference to the relative growth of England, Scotland and
Ireland, which has now become the text of so much discussion regard-
ing the practical question of diminishing the relative representation of
Ireland in Parliament, and increasing that of England and Scotland.

IMPORTANCE OF STATISTICAL IDEAS. 123

It Ib expedient, however, in an address like this, to avoid anything
which verges on party politics, and I shall only notice that while the
topic has lately become of keen interest to politicians, it is not new
to statisticians, who were able long ago to foresee what is now so much
remarked on. This very topic was discussed at length in the addresses
of 1882-83, to which reference has been made, and even before that in
1876 it received attention.* Another topic which might have been
added is that of the economic growth of the different countries which
was discussed in the address in 1883; and such topics as the increase
of population in a country like India under the peace imposed by its
European conquerors, by which the stationariness of the country in
numbers and wealth under purely native conditions has been changed,
and something like European progress has been begun. Enough has
been said, however, it may be hoped, to justify this mode of looking at
statistics, and the ideas suggested by them.

May I once more, then, express the hope, as I have done on former
occasions, that as time goes on more and more attention will be given
to these common statistics and the ideas derived from them? The
domination of the ideas suggested by these common figures of popula-
tion statistics, in international politics and in social and economic
relations, is obvious; and although the decline in the rate of growth
of population in recent years, the last of the topics now touched on,
suggests a great many points which the statistics themselves are as yet
unfit to solve — what can be done with a great country like the United
States, absolutely devoid of bare records of births, marriages and
deaths? — still the facts of the decline as far as recorded throw a great
deal of light on the social and economic history of the past century,
prepare the way for discussing the further topics which require a more
elaborate treatment, and enforce the necessity for more and better
records. We may emphasize the appeal then, for the better statistical
and economic education of our public men, and for the more careful
study by all concerned of such familiar publications as the 'Statistical
Abstracts,'" the 'Statesman's Year-book,' and the like. The material
transformations which are going on throughout the world can be sub-
stantially followed without any difficulty in such publications by those
who have eyes to see; and to follow such transformations, so as to be
ready for the practical questions constantly raised, is at least one of the
main uses of statistical knowledge.

* See Essays in Finance, 2nd series, p. 290 et seq.; p. 330 ct seq.; and 1st
series, p. 280 et seq.

124 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE AIMS OP THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORA-
TORY OF GREAT BRITAIN.*

By R. T. GLAZEBROOK, F.R.S.,

DIRECTOR OF THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY.

A SPEAKER who is privileged to deliver an experimental lecture
■^-^ from this place is usually able to announce some brilliant dis-
covery of his own, or at least to illustrate his words by some striking
experiment. To-night it is not in my power to do this, and I am
thereby at a disadvantage. Still I value highly this opportunity which
has been given me of making known to this audience the aims and pur-
pose of the National Laboratory.

The idea of a physical laboratory in which problems bearing at
(mce on science and industry might be solved is comparatively new.
The Physikalisch-technische Reichsanstalt, founded in Berlin by
the joint labors of Werner von Siemens and von Helmholtz during
the years 1883-87, was perhaps the first. It is less than ten years since
Dr. Lodge, in his address to Section A of the British Association, out-
lined the scheme of work for such an institution here in England.

Nothing came of this; a committee met and discussed plans, but
it was felt to be hopeless to approach the government, and without
government aid there were no funds. Four years later, however, the
late Sir Douglas Galton took the matter up. In his address to the
British Association in 1895 and again in a paper read before Section
A, he called attention to the work done for Germany by the Reichsan-
stalt, and to the crying need for a similar institution in England. The
result of this presidential pronouncement was the formation of a com-
mittee which reported at Liverpool, giving a rough outline of a possible
scheme of organization.

A petition to Lord Salisbury followed, and as a consequence a
Treasury committee, with Lord Rayleigh in the chair, was appointed
to consider the desirability of establishing a National Physical Labora-
tory. The committee examined over thirty witnesses and then re-
ported unanimously, "That a public institution should be founded for
standardizing and verifying instruments, for testing materials, and for
the determination of physical constants." It is natural to turn to the
words of those who were instrumental in securing the appointment of
this committee and to the evidence it received in any endeavor to dis-

A discourse delivered at the Royal Institution.

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY. 125

cuss its aims. As was fitting. Sir Douglas Galton was the first wit-
ness to be called. It is a source of sorrow to his many friends that
he has not lived to see the Laboratory completed.

And here I may refer to another serious loss which in the last few
days this Laboratory has sustained. Sir Courtenay Boyle was a member
of Lord Eayleigh's committee, and as such was convinced of the need
for the laboratory and of the importance of the work it could do. He
took an active part in its organization, sparing neither time nor trouble ;
he intended that it should be a great institution, and he had the will
and the power to help. The country is the poorer by his sudden death.

Let me now quote some of Sir Douglas Galton's evidence: "For-
merly our progress in machinery,'^ he says, "was due to accuracy of
measurement and that was a class of work which could be done as Whit-
worth showed by an educated eye and educated touch. But as we ad-
vance in the applications of science to industry we require accuracy
to be carried into matters which cannot be so measured. In the more
delicate researches which the physical, chemical and electrical student
undertakes he requires a ready means of access to standards to enable
him to compare his own work with that of others." Or again: "My
view is that if Great Britain is to claim its industrial supremacy, we
must have accurate standards available to our research students and to
our manufacturers. I am certain that if you had them our manufac-
turers would gradually become very much more qualified for advancing
our manufacturing industry than they are now. But it is also certain
that you cannot separate some research from a standardizing depart-
ment." Then after a description of the Eeichsanstalt he continues,
"What I would advocate would be an extension of Kew in the direction
of the Second Division of the Eeichsanstalt with such auxiliary re-
search in the establishment of itself as may be found necessary." The
second division is the one which takes charge of technical and industrial
questions.

Professor Lodge again gave a very valuable summary of work which
ought to be done. Put briefly it was this :

1. Pioneer work.

2. Verification work.

3. Systematic measurements and examination of the properties of sub-
stances under all conditions.

4. The precise determination of physical constants.

5. Observational work, testing instruments.

6. Constructional work (gratings, optical glass).

7. Designing new and more perfect instruments.

Such were the views of those who took a prominent part in the
founding of the institution.

It is now realized, at any rate by the more enlightened of our lead-
ers of industry, that science can help them. This fact, however, has

126 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

been grasped by too few in England; our rivals in Germany and
America know it well, and the first aim of the laboratory is to bring its
truth home to all, to assist in promoting a union which is certainly
necessary if England is to retain her supremacy in trade and in manu-
facture, to make the forces of science available for the nation, to break
down by every possible means the barrier between theory and practice,
and to point out plainly the plan which must be followed, unless we
are prepared to see our rivals take our place.

"Germany," an American writer,* who has recently made a study of
the subject, has said, "is rapidly moving towards industrial supremacy
in Europe. One of her most potent factors in this notable advance is
the perfected alliance between science and commerce existing in Ger-
many. Science has come to be regarded there as a commercial factor.
If England is losing her supremacy in manufactures and in commerce,
as many claim, it is because of English conservatism and the failure to
utilize to the fullest extent the lessons taught by science, while Ger-
many, once the country of dreamers and theorists, has now become
intensely practical. Science there no longer seeks court and cloister,
but is in open alliance with commerce and industry." It is our aim to
promote this alliancg in England, and for this purpose her National
Physical Laboratory has been founded.

It is hardly necessary to quote chapter and verse for the assertion
that the close connection between science and industry has had a
predominant effect on German trade. If authority is wanted I would
refer to the history of the anilin dye manufacture, or to take a more
recent case, to the artificial indigo industry in which the success of
the Badische Company has recently been so marked. The factory at
Ludwigshaven started thirty-five years ago with thirty men. It now
employs over 6,000, and has on its staff 148 trained scientific chemists.
And now when it is perhaps too late the Indian planters are calling in
scientific aid and the Indian government is giving some £3,500 a
year to investigation.

As Professor Armstrong, in a recent letter to the 'Times,' says:
"The truly serious side of the matter, however, is not the prospective
loss of the entire indigo industry so much as the fact that an achieve-
ment such as that of the Badische Company seems past praying for
here."

Or, to take another instance, scientific visitors to the Paris Exhibi-
tion last year must have been struck by the German exhibit of
apparatus. German instrument makers combined to produce a joint
exhibit; a strong committee was formed. Under the skilful editor-
ship of Dr. Lindeck of the Eeichsanstalt a catalogue was compiled, in
which by a judicious arrangement of cross references it was easily

* Professor H. S. Carhart.

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY.

127

possible to find either the exhibit of a particular firm or the apparatus
of a particular class. This was printed in German, English and
French, and issued freely to visitors. Dr. Drosten, the representative
of the exhibitors in charge, or one of his assistants, was ever ready to give
information and advice. To one who wished, as I did, to see the most
modern forms of German apparatus, the exhibit was a very real help.
Let me quote a few lines from the catalogue :

At the commencement of the nineteenth century, the French and English
makers of scientific instruments were far in advance of the Germans. True,
the eighteenth century had its prominent mechanics in Germany, yet at the

Plan of Grounds.

beginning of the nineteenth century French and English makers took the lead,
so as to almost supply the world's entire demand in scientific instruments.
This predominance had the further consequence of causing young Germans to
emigrate to France or England in order thoroughly to master their subject.
Many a German mechanic to-day owes to French or English masters a sub-
stantial portion of his knowledge. And then in Germany it is only
within the last twenty or twenty-five years that the state has espoused the in-
terests of the home industry, but such have been the efforts and the results
that the position has at a blow, as it were, changed in favor of Germany.
The greatest share of the impetus given to the manufacture of scientific instru-
ments is due to the Reichsanstalt. A characteristic feature of this trade
is the unity of its aims, which is traceable to the history of its development and
its intimate connection with pure science. During the year 1898 the value of
German exports of scientific instruments was about a quarter of a million
sterling. It had trebled within ten years; while nearly 14,000 people were
employed in it.

128

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

BUSHY HOUSt

Bushy House, Ground Plan.

And now having stated in general terms the aims of the labora-
tory and given some account of the progress in general, let me pass to
some description of the means which have been placed at our dis-
posal to realize those aims. I
here wish, if time permits, to
discuss in fuller detail some of
the work which it is hoped we
may take up immediately.

The laboratory is to be at
Bushy House, Teddington. I
will pass over the events which
led to this change of site from
the old Deer Park at Eichmond
to Bushy. It is sufficient to say
that at present Kew Observatory
in the Deer Park will remain as
the observatory department of
the laboratory, and most of the
important verification and
standardization work which in
the past has been done there will
still find its home in the old building. The house was originally the
official residence of the Eanger of Bushy Park. Queen Anne granted it
in 1710 to the first Lord Halifax. In 1771 it passed to Lord North,
being then probably rebuilt.
Upon the death of Lord
North's widow, in 1797, the
Duke of Clarence, after-
wards William IV., became
Eanger. After his death in
1837 it was granted to his
widow. Queen Adelaide,
who lived here until 1849.
At her death it passed to
the Due de Nemours, son
of King Louis Philippe,
and he resided here at in-
tervals until 1896. In spite
of this somewhat aristo-
cratic history it will make
an admirable laboratory.

The building is very solid and substantial. There is a good basement
under the main central block with roof of brick groining, which makes
a very steady support for the floor above.

Bushy House, Basement.

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATOEY. 129

Bushy Hocse, East Front.

Bushy House, South Front

VOL. LX. — 9.

I30

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Such is the home of the laboratory. It may be of interest to com-
pare it with the Eeichsanstalt.

The floor space available is much less than that of the Eeichsanstalt.
But size alone is not an unmixed advantage ; there is much to be said

Knc;inf.erin<; Laboratory, Ground Plan.

in favor of gradual growth and development, provided the conditions
are such as to favor growth. Personally I would prefer to begin in a
small way, if only I felt sure I was in a position to do the work thor-
oughly, but there is danger of starvation. Even with all the help we

I

II I

['u_Ej: '-

M..RS '

I

■^"^li^

W e'

e

B

a A :a ' a A

Encineering Laboratory, Elevations and Sections.

get in freedom from rent and taxes, outside repairs and maintenance,
the sum at the disposal of the committee is too small. £14,000 will
not build and equip the laboratory. £4,000 a year will not maintain
it as it ought to be maintained. Contrast this with the expenditure
on the Eeichsanstalt or with the proposals in America where the bill

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY. 131

I'cr the establishment of a hiboratory has just passed, and an expendi-
ture of £60,000 on building and site and £9,000 a year has been
authorized.

CAPITAL EXPENDITURE ON THE REICHSANSTALT.

DIVISION I.

Site - the Gift of Dr. Siemens £25,000

Cost of Buildings 34,275

Fittings and Furniture 2,700

Machinery and Instruments 4,100

£66,075

DIVISION II.

Site £18,600

Buildings 88,000

Fittings and Furniture 5,400

Machinery and Instruments 23,550

135,550

£201,625

ANNUAL EXPENDITURE.

Salaries and ^^ ages £10,300

Maintenance of Buildings, Apparatus, etc 6,350

£16,650

i WERNER-SIEMENS STRASSE !

r— ■? MAIN BUILDING OF FIRST DIVISION

L

fj J|PnEStDENT'9

r"^ r HOU3G

BUILDING FOR

OFFtC

""LJ

SCALE OF FEET

-t-

ICO

MARCH STRASSE

f-

Rkichsanstai.t, Generai, Plan.

Science is not yet regarded as a commercial factor in England. Is
there no one who, realizing the importance of the alliance, will
come forward with more ample funds to start us on our course with a
fair prospect of success ? One real friend has recently told us in print
that the new institution is on such a microscopic scale that its utility
in the present struggle is more than doubtful. Is there no statesman
who can grasp the position and see that, with say double the income.

132

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

the chances of our doing a great work would be increased a hundred-
f okl ? The problems we have to solve are hard enough ; give us means
to employ the best men and we will answer thtm, starve us and then
quote our failure as showing the uselessness of science applied to
industry. There is some justice in the criticism of one of our technical
papers. I have recently been advertising for assistants, and a paper
in whose columns the advertisement appeared writes:

The scale of pay is certainly not extravagant. It is however possible that
the duties will be correspondingly light.

I have thus summarized in a brief manner the aims of the labora-
tory and have indicated the effect which the application of science
to industry has had on one branch of trade in Germany. And now
let me illustrate these aims by a more detailed account of some of the
problems of industry Avliieh have been solved by the application of

MAIN BUILDING /OF DIVISION H

Kek'}isan8talt, Technical Buii-ding.

science, and then of some others which remain unsolved and which
the laboratory hopes to attack. The story of the Jena glass-works is
most interesting ; we will take it first.

An exhibition of scientific apparatus took place in London in 1878.
Among the visitors to this was Professor Abbe, of Jena, and in a report
he wrote on the optical apparatus he called attention to the need for
progress in the art of glass-making if the microscope were to advance
and to the necessity for obtaining glasses having a difEerent relation
between dispersion and refractive index than that found in the ma-
terial at the disposal of opticians. Stokes and Harcourt had already
made attempts in this direction but with no marked success. In 1881
Abbe and Schott at Jena started their work. Their undertaking, they
write five years later in the first catalogue of their factory, arose out of
a scientific investigation into the connection between the optical proper-

THE 2sATI0NAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY.

133

Reichsanstalt, Division I., Main Building,

ties of solid amorphous fluxes
and their chemical constitu-
tion. Wlien they began their
work some six elements only
entered into the composition
of glass. By 1888 it had
been found possible to com-
bine with these in quantities
up to about 10 per cent,
twenty-eight different ele-
ments, and the effect of each
of these on the refractive in-
dex and dispersion had been

measured. Tims for I'xamplc the investigators found that by the addi-
tion of boron the ratio of
the length of the blue end of
the spectrum to that of the
red was increased; the addi-
tion of fluorine, potassium
or sodium produced the
opposite result. Now in an
ordinary achromatic lens of
crown and flint, if the total
dispersion for the two be
the same, then for the flint
glass the dispersion of the
blue end is greater; that of
the red less than for the
croM'n; thus the image is not white, a secondary spectrum is tlie result.
Abbe showed, as Stokes
and Harcourt had
shown earlier, that by
combining a large pro-
portion of boron with
the flint its dispersion
was made more nearly
the same as that of the
crown, while by re-
placing the silicates
in the crown glass by
phosphates a still bet-
ter result was ob-
tained, and by the use

of three o'Hs'^eS three Reichsanstalt, Bl-ildini; rou Lap.ge Cuhrents and

'^ ' '" Machinery.

Reichsanstai.t, Division II., Main Buildini:.

134 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lines of the spectrum could be combined. The spectrum outstanding
was a tertiary one and much less marked than that due to the original
crown and flint glass. The modern microscope became possible.

The conditions to be satisfied in a photographic lens differ
from those required for a microscope. Von Seidel had shown
that with the ordinary flint and crown glasses the conditions
for achromatism and for flatness of field cannot be simultane-
ously satisfied. To do this we need a glass of high refractive index
and low dispersive power or vice versa; in ordinary glasses these two
properties rise and fall together. Thus crown glass has a refractive
index of 1.518 and a dispersive power of .01 66, while for flint the flgures
are 1.717 and .0339. By introducing barium into the crown glass a
change is produced in this respect. For barium crown the refractive in-
dex is greater and the dispersive power less than for soft crown. With two
such glasses then the fleld can be achromatic and flat. The wonderful
results obtained by Dallmeyer and Boss in this country, by Zeiss and
Steinheil in Germany, are due to the use of new glasses. They have also
been applied with marked success to the manufacture of the object
glasses of large telescopes.

But the Jena glasses have other uses besides optical. "About
twenty years ago" — the quotation is from the catalogue of the Ger-
man Exhibition — ''the manufacture of thermometers had come to
a dead stop in Germany, thermometers being then invested with
a defect, their liability to periodic changes, which seriously endan-
gered German manufacture. Comprehensive investigations were then
carried out by the Normal Aichungs Commission, the Keichsan-
stalt, and the Jena glass works, and much labor brought the desired
reward." The defect referred to was the temporary depression of the
ice point which takes place in all thermometers after heating. Let the
ice point of a thermometer be observed ; then raise the thermometer to
say 100° and again observe the ice point as soon as possible afterwards;
it will be depressed below its previous position; in some instruments
of Thuringian glass a depression of as much as 0°.65 C. had been noted.
For scientific purposes such an instrument is quite untrustworthy. If
it be kept at say 15° and then immersed in a bath at 30° it will be
appreciably different from that which would be given if it were first
raised to say 50°, allow^ed to cool quickly just below 30°, and then
put into the bath. This was the defect which the investigators set
themselves to cure.

DEPRESSION OF FREEZING POINT FOR VARIOUS
THERMOMETERS.

Humboldt 1835 0°.06

Greiner 1872 0 .38

Schultzer 1875 0 .44

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABOBATORY. 135

Rapps 1878 0 .65

English Glass 0 .15

Ver Deer 0 .08

16"' 0 .05

59'" 0 .02

ANALYSIS OF GLASSES.

SiO. Na.,0 CaO AI..O3 ZnO B0O3
16'" — 67.5 14 7 2.5 7 2

59'" — 72 11 5 12

Weber had found in 1883 that glasses which contain a mixture of
soda and potash give a very large depression. He made in 1883 a glass
free from soda with a depression of 0°.l. The work was then taken
up by the Aichungs Commission, the Eeichsanstalt, and the Jena
factory. Weber's results were confirmed. An old thermometer of
Humboldt's containing 0.86 per cent, of soda and 20 per cent, of potash
had a depression of 0°.06, while a new instrument, in which the per-
centages were 12.7 per cent, and 10.6 per cent., respectively, had a
depression of 0°.65. An English standard, With 1.5 per cent, of soda,
12.3 per cent, of potash, gave a depression of 0°.15, while a French
'Ver deer' instrument in which these proportions were reversed gave
only 0°.08. It remained to manufacture a glass which should have a
low depression and at the same time other satisfactory properties. The
now well-known glass 16"' is the result. Its composition is shown in
the table. The fact that there was an appreciable difference between
the scale of the 16"' glass and that of the air thennometer led to
further investigation, and another glass, a borosilicate, containing 12
per cent, of boron, was the consequence. This glass has a still smaller
depression. As a result of this work Germany can now claim that 'the
manufacture of thermometers has reached in Germany an unprece-
dented level and now governs the markets of the world.'

Previous to 1888 Germany imported optical glass; at that date
nearly all the glass required was of liome manufacture. Very shortly
afterwards an export trade in raw glass began, which in 1898 was
v^orth £30,000 per annum, while the value of optical instruments, such
as telescopes, field glasses, and the like, exported that year was over
£250,000. Such are the results of the application of science, i. e.,
organized common sense, to a great industry. The National Ph3^sieal
Laboratory aims at doing the like for England.

The question of standardization of patterns and designs is probably
too large a one to go into on the present occasion. Some months ago a
most interesting discussion of the subject took place at the Institution
of Electrical Engineers. To my mind there is no doubt that the
judicious adoption of standard types combined with readiness to scrap
old patterns, so soon as a real advance or improvement is made, is
necessary for progress. One who has been over some good German

136

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

workshop or has contrasted a first-class English shop where this is the
practice with an old-fashioned establishment where standardization is
hardly known, can have no hesitation on this question. It has its dis-
advantages, less is left to the originality of the workman and in con-
sequence they lose the power of adaptation to new circumstances and
conditions. The English mechanic is I believe greatly superior to the
German, but the scientific organization of the German shops enables
them to compete successfully with the English.

In 1881 the German Association of Mechanics and Opticians was
formed, having for its aim the scientific, technical and commercial de-
velopment of instrument making. The society has its official organ,
the 'Zeitschrift fiir Instrumentenlvunde,' edited by one of the staff of

Section of Iron aftek Varku's Treatments.
Specimen.

1. Raised to 1000°. Worked and cooled slowly. Masses of carbide ground
work, bands of iron and carbide, pearlite structure.

2. Raised to 850° and quickly cooled. Masses disappear.

3. Raised to 850° and quenched in water. Arcicular structure. Martensite,
hard steel.

4. Raised to 1050° and quenched in iced brine. Martensite and Austenite.

5. Same cooled in liquid air to — 243. Much like martensite.

6. Heated to near melting point, quenched suddenly burnt steel.

7. Heated to 650° — annealed for a long time at this temperature and
slowly cooled, bands of carbide and pearlite.

8. Any specimen except 6 heated to 850, worked and slowly cooled, giving
us the structure 1.

Very marked changes might have been produced in 3 by annealing at 140°.

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY. 137

the Reichsanstalt. Specialized schools for the training of young
mechanics in the scientific side of their calling have heen formed and
now the majority of the leading firms retain in their permanent service
one or more trained mathematicians or physicists. In this way again
the importance of science to industry is recognized. I have thus noted
very briefly some of the ways in which science has become identified
with trade in Germany, and have indicated some of the investigations
by which the staff of the Eeichsanstalt and others have advanced manu-
factures and commerce.

Let us turn now to the other side, to some of the problems which
remain unsolved, to the work which our laboratorv is to do and bv
doing which it Avill realize the aims of its founders. The microscopic
examination of metals was begun by Sorby in 1864. Since that date
many distinguished experimenters, Andrews, Arnold, Ewing, Martens,
Osmond, Eoberts- Austen, Stead and others have added much to our
knowledge. I am indebted to Sir W. Eoberts- Austen for the slides
vdiich I am about to show you to illustrate some of the points arrived at.
Professor Ewing a year ago laid before the Eoyal Institution the results
of the experiment of Mr.Eosenhain and himself. This microscopic work
has revealed to us the fact that steel must be regarded as a crystallized
igneous rock. Moreover, it is capable at temperatures far below its
melting point of altering its structure completely, and its mechanical
and magnetic properties are intimately related to its structure. The
chemical constitution of the steel may be unaltered, the amounts of
carbon, silicon, manganese, etc., in the different forms remain the same,
but the structure changes, and with it the properties of the steel.
1'he figure on page 136 represents sections of the same steel ^lolishod
rnd etched after various treatments.

Section of Bad Rail.

The steel is a highly carbonized form, containing 1.5 per cent, of
carbon. If it be cooled down from the liquid state, the temperature
being read by the deflexion of a galvanometer needle in circuit with a

138

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

thermopile, the galvanometer shows a slowly falling temperature till
we reach 1380° C, when solidification takes place. The changes which
now go on take place in solid metal. After a time the temperature
again falls until we reach 680°, when there is an evolution of heat; had
the steel been free from carbon there would have been evolution of
heat at 895° and again at 766°. JSTow throughout the cooling molecular
changes are going on in the steel. By quenching the steel suddenly
at any given temperature we can check the change and examine micro-
scopically the structure of the steel at the temperature at which it was
checked.

In the figure, with the exception of specimen Xo. 6, the metal has
not been heated above 1050°, over 300° below its melting point.

sfi^S

^t:-'

Ik

P

h^\

m

yWT^^rlh

Wj^.

Section of Good Rail.

Section of Bad Rail, show-
ing Surface to which
Fracture was Due.

Section of Rail after
Rolling.

At temperatures between about 900° and 1100° the carbon exists
in the form of carbide of iron dissolved in the iron, at a temperature
of 890° tJie iron which can exist in different forms as an allotropic
substance passes from the y form to the ^9 form, and in this form
cannot dissolve more than .9 per cent, of carbon as carbide. Thus at
this temperature a large proportion of the carbon passes out of the
solution. At 680° the remainder of the carbide falls out of the solution
as lamina.

Thus the following temperatures must be noted: 1380°, melting
point; 1050°, highest point reached by specimen; 890°, .6 per cent, of
carbon deposited; 680°, rest of carbide deposited.

To turn now to the dstails of the photo, the center piece is the
cemented steel as it comes from the furnace after the usual treatment.

These slides are sufficient to call attention to the changes which
occur in solid iron, changes whose importance is now beginning to be
realized. On viewing them it is a natural question to ask how all the
other properties of iron related to its structure ; can we by special treat-
ment produce a steel more suited to the shipbuilder, the railway engi-
neer or the dynamo maker than any he now possesses ?

These marked effects are connected with variations in the condition
of the carbon in the iron ; can equally or possibly more marked changes
be produced by the introduction of some other elements ? Guillaume's

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY. 139

nickel steel with its small coefficient of expansion appears to have a
future for many purposes; can it by some modification be made still
more useful to the engineer ?

"We owe much to the work of the Alloys Eesearch Committee of the
Institution of Mechanical Engineers. Their distinguished chairman
takes the view that the work of that committee has only begun and that
there is scope for research for a long time to come at the National Phys-
ical Laboratory, and the executive committee have accepted this view by
naming as one of the first subjects to be investigated the connection be-
tween the magnetic quality and the physical, chemical and electrical
properties of iron and its alloys with a view specially to the determina-
tion of the conditions for low hysteresis and non-aging properties.

At any rate we may trust that the condition of affairs mentioned by
Mr. Hadfield in his evidence before Lord Eayleigh's commission which
led a user of English steel to specify that before the steel could be
accepted it must be stamped at the Reichsanstalt will no longer exist.

The subject of wind pressure again is one which has occupied the
committee's attention to some extent.

The Board of Trade rules require for bridges and similar struc-
tures (1) that a maximum pressure of 56 pounds per square foot be
provided for, (2) that the effective surface on which the wind acts
should be assumed as from once to twice the area of the front surface
according to the extent of the openings in the lattice girders, (3) that
a factor of safety of 4 for the iron work and of 2 for the whole bridge
overturning be assumed. These recommendations were not based on
any special experiments. The question had been investigated in part
bv the late Sir Wm. Siemens.

During the construction of the Forth Bridge Sir B. Baker con-
ducted a series of observations.

Table II.

Revolving Gauge

j Small Fixed Gauge.

' Large Fixed Gauge.

Mean Pressure.

Easterly.

Westerly.

Easterly.

Westerly.

W.

W.

W.

W.

W.

W.

0to5

3.00

3.47

2.92

2.04

1.9

5 to 10

7.58

4.8

7.7

3.54

4.75

10 to 15

12.4

6.27

13.2

4.55

8.26

15 to 20

17.06

7.4

17.9

5.5

12.66

20 to 25

21.0

12.25

22.75

8.0

19

25 to 30

27.0

28.5

18.25

30 to 35

32.5

38.5

21.5

Above

65

41.0

35.25

(One observation only

above

32.5.)

The results of the first two years' observations are shown in Table
II. taken from a paper read at the British Association in 1884. Three

I40 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

gauges were used. In ISTo. 1 the surface on which the wind acted was
about 1% square feet in area; it was swiveled so as always to be at
right angles to the wind. In No. 2 the area of surface acted on was
oi the same size but was fixed with its plane north and south. No. 3
was also fixed in the same direction but it had 200 times the area, its
surface being 300 square feet.

In preparing the table the mean of all the readings of the revolving
gauge between 0 and 5, 5 and 10, etc., pounds per square foot have
been taken and the mean of the corresponding readings of the small
fixed gauge and the large fixed gauge set opposite, these being arranged
for easterly and westerly winds.

Two points are to be noticed: (1) There is only one reading of over
32.5 pounds registered, and this it is ^practically certain is due to faulty
action in the gauge. Sir B. Baker has kindly shown me some further
records with a small gauge.

According to these pressures of over 50 pounds have been registered
on three occasions since 1886. On two other occasions the pressures as
registered reached from 40 to 50 pounds per square foot. But the
table, it will be seen, enables us to compare the pressure on a small
area with the average pressure on a large area, and it is clear that
in all cases the pressure per square foot as given by the large area is
much less than that deduced from the simultaneous observations on the
small area.

The large gauge became unsafe in 1896 and was removed, but the
observations for the previous ten years entirely confirm this result, the
importance of which is obvious. The same result may be deduced from
the Tower Bridge observations. Power is required to raise the great
bascules and the power needed depends on the direction of the wind.
From observations on the power some estimate of the average wind
pressure on the surface may be obtained, and this is found to be less
than the pressure registered by the small wind gauges.

Nor is the result surprising when the matter is looked at as an hydro-
dynamical problem — the wind blows in gusts — the lines of flow near a
small obstacle will differ from those near a large one ; the distribution of
pressure over the large area will not be uniform. Sir W. Siemens is
said to have found places of negative pressure near such an obstacle.
As Sir J. Wolfe Barry has pointed out, if the average of 56 pouuds to
the square foot is excessive then the cost and difficulty of erection of
large engineering works is being unnecessarily increased. Here is a
problem well worthy of attention and about which but little is known.
The same too may be said about the second of the Board of Trade rules.
What is the effective surface over which tlie pressure is exerted on a
bridge? On this again our information is but scanty. Sir B. Baker's
experiments for the Forth Bridge led him to adopt as his rule double

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABOBATORY. 141

the plane surface exposed to the wind and deduct 50 per cent, in the
case of tubes. On this point again further experiments are needed.

To turn from engineering to physics. In metrology as in many
other Branches of science difficulties connected with the measurement of
temperature are of the first importance.

I was asked some little time since to state to a very high order of
exactness the relation between the yard and the meter. I could not give
the number of figures required. The meter is defined at the freezing
point of water, the yard at a temperature of 62° Fahr. When a yard
and meter scale are compared they are usually at about the same tem-
perature; the difficulty of the comparison is enormously increased if
there be a temperature difi^erence of 30° Fahr. between the tAvo scales.
Hence we require to know the temperature coefficients of the two stand-
ards. But that of the standard yard is not known; it is doubtful, I
believe, if the composition of the alloy of which it is made is known,
and in consequence Mr. Chaney has mentioned the determination of
coefficients of expansion as one of the investigations which it is desirable
that the Laboratory should undertake.

Or again take thermometry. The standard scale of temperature is
that of the hydrogen thermometer ; the scale in practical use in England
is the mercury in flint glass scale of the Kew standard thermometers.
It is obvious that it is of importance to science that the difference
between the scales should be known and various attempts have been
made to compare them.

But the results of no two series of observations which have been
made agree satisfactorily. The variations arise probably in great meas-
ure from the fact that the English glass thermometer as ordinarily
made and used is incapable of the accuracy now demanded for scientific
investigation. The temporary depression of the freezing point already
alluded to in discussing the Jena glass is too large; it may amount to
three to four tenths of a degree when the thermometer is raised 100°.
Thus the results of any given comparison depend too much on the
immediate past history of the thermometer employed, and it is almost
hopeless to construct a table accurate, sa}', to .01 which will give the
difference between the Kew standard and the hydrogen scale and so
enable the results of former work in which English thermometers were
used to be expressed in standard degrees.

values of corkectioxs to the exglish glass thermom-
eter scale to give temperatures ox the gas
ther:\iometer scale fouxd by

various observers.

Temp. Rowland. Guillaunie. \Mebe.

0 0° 0° 0

10 —.03 —.009 -}-.0.3

20 —.05 —.009 -h-OO

142 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

30

—.06

—.002

+ .02

40

—.07

+.007

+.09

50

—.07

+.016

+ .14

60

—.06

+ .014

70

—.04

+ .028

80

—.02

+.026

90

—.01

+.017

00

0

0

This is illustrated by giving the differences as found, (1) by
Eowland, (2) by Guillaume, (3) by Wiebe, between a Kew ther-
uiometer and the air thermometer. It is clearly important to establish
in England a mercury scale of temperatures which shall be comparable
Avith the hydrogen scale, and it is desirable to determine as nearly as
may be the relation between this and the existing Kew scale.

I am glad to say that in this endeavor we have secured the valuable
cooperation of Mr. Powell, of the Whitefriars works, and that the
first specimens of glass he has submitted to us bid fair to compare
well with the 16"'. Another branch of thermometry at which
there is much to do is the measurement of high temperature.
Professor Callendar has explained here the principles of the re-
sistance thermometer, due first to Sir W. Siemens. Sir W. C. Eoberts-
Austen has shown how the thermopile of Le Chatellier may be used for
the measurement of high temperatures. There is a great work left for
the man who can introduce these or similar instruments to the manu-
factory and the forge, or who can improve them in such a manner as
to render their uses more simple and more sure. Besides, at tempera-
tures much over 1000° C. the glaze on the porcelain tube of the pyrom-
eter gives way, the furnace gases get in to the wire and are absorbed and
the indications become untrustworthy. We hope it may be possible to
utilize the silica tubes shown here by Mr. Shenstone a short time since
in a manner which will help us to overcome some of these difficulties.
Here is another subject of investigation for which there is ample scope.

So far we have discussed new work, but there is much to be done in
extending a class of work which has gone on quietly and without much
show for many years at the Kew Observatory.

Thermometers and barometers, wind gauges and other meteorological
apparatus, watches and chronometers and many other instruments are
tested there in great numbers and the value of the work is undoubted.
The competition among the best makers for the first place, the best
watch of the year, is most striking and affords ample testimony to the
importance of the work. Work of this class we propose to extend.

Thus there is no place where pressure gauges or steam indicators
can be tested. It is intended to take up this work, and for this purpose
a mercury pressure column is being erected. Bushy House from base-
ment to eaves is about 55 feet in height. We hope to have a column of
about 50 feet in height, giving a pressure of about 20 atmospheres; it

THE NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY. 143

i:^ too little, but it is all we can do with our present building. The
necessary pumps are being fitted to give the pressure and we shall have
a lift set up along the column so that the observer can easily read
the height of the mercury.

This column will serve to graduate our standard gauges up to 20
atmospheres, above that we may for the present have recourse to sojne
multiplying device; a very beautiful one is used at the Eeichsanstalt
and by Messrs. Schaffer and Budenberg, but we are told we must
improve on this.

Again, there are the ordinary gauges in use in nearly every engi-
neering shop. These in the first instance have probably come from
Whitworth's or nowadays, I fear, from Messrs. Pratt & Whitney or
Brown & Sharp, of America; they were probably very accurate when
new but they wear, and it is only in comparatively few large shops that
means exist for measuring the error and for determining whether the
gauge ought to be rejected or not.

Hence arise difficulties of all kinds. Standardization of work is
impossible. The new screw sent out to South Africa to replace one
damaged in the war will not fit, and the gun is useless. A long range
of steam piping is wanted; the best angle pieces and unions are made
by a firm whose screwing tackle differs slightly from that of the fac-
tory where the pipes were ordered. Delays and difficulties of all kinds
occur which ready means for standardization would have avoided.
Here is scope for work if only manufacturers will utilize the opportuni-
ties we hope to give them.

In another direction a wide field is offered in the calibration and
standardization of glass measuring vessels of all kinds — flasks, burettes,
pipettes, etc. — used by chemists and others. At the request of the
Board of Agriculture we have already arranged for the standardization
of the glass vessels used in the Babcock method of measuring the butter
fat in milk and in a few months many of these have passed through our
hands. We are now being asked to arrange for testing the apparatus
for the Gerber & Leffman-Beam methods, and this we have promised to
do when we are settled at Bushy. Telescopes, opera glasses, sextants
and other optical appliances are already tested at Kew, but this work
can and will be extended. Photographic lenses are now examined by
eye; a photographic test will be added. And I trust the whole may be
made more useful to photographers.

I look to the cooperation of the Optical Society to advise how we
may be of service to them in testing spectacles, microscope lenses and
the like.

The magnetic testing of specimens of iron and steel again offers a
fertile field for enquiry.

If more subjects are needed it is sufficient to turn over the pages

144 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the evidence given before Lord Kayleigli's commission or to look to
the reports which have been prepared by various bodies of experts for
the Executive Committee.

In electrical matters there are questions relating to the fundamental
units on which in Mr. Trotter's opinion we may help the officials of the
Board of Trade — standards of capacity are wanted; those belonging
to the British Association will be deposited at the Laboratory ; stand-
ards of electromagnetic induction are desirable; questions continually
arise with regard to new forms of cells other than the standard Clark
cell, and in a host of other ways work could be found. Tests on in-
sulation resistance were mentioned by Professor Ayrton who gave the
result of his own experience. He had asked for wire having a certain
standard of insulation resistance. One specimen was eight times as good
as the specification; another had only one one-hundred-thousandth of
the required insulation ; a third had about one tliree-hundredth.

Mr. Appleyard again gave some interesting examples, the examina-
tion of alloys for use for resistance measurements and other purposes,
the testing of various insulating materials and the like.

I have gone almost too much into detail. It has been my wish to
state in general terms the aims of the laboratory, to make the advance
of physical science more readily available for the needs of the nation
and then to illustrate the Avay in which it is intended to attain those
aims: I trust I may have shown that the National Physical Laboratory
is an institution which may deservedly claim the cordial support of all
who are interested in real progress.

CEMENT FOR A MODERN STREET. 145

CEMENT FOE A MODERN STREET.

By Dr. S. F. PECKHAM.

AMODERIS' street consists of a concrete foundation which extends
from curb to curb, upon which is laid a wearing surface of
asphalt, brick or other material.

The use of these concretes has an instructive history, which might
be profitably preceded by a discussion of the uses of mortars and
coinents in antiquity, did space permit. So far as I have been able to
learn, all the different varieties of cementing materials, including ordi-
nary lime mortars, have been experimented with for the construction
of concrete foundations. It is therefore proper that these different
materials should be briefly described.

Mortar, in the ordinary sense of the term, designates a mixture of
lime and sand. The lime is prepared by heating limestone in kilns, until
tlie carbonic acid of the limestone is expelled and oxide of calcium
remains, which readily absorbs water and slacks, as it is termed, and
in time reabsorbs the carbonic acid that was driven off. The lime is
mixed with the water when it is slacked and the carbonic acid is
absorbed from the atmosphere. When mortar is made, the lime is first
made into a thin paste with water, and sand is added imtil the mass
ceases to be sticky. Such mortar acquires strength slowly. The excess
of water first dries out and then the lime by slow absorption of carbonic
acid forms thin particles of limestone between the grains of sand,
until the mortar becomes a coherent mass. That this process goes on
very slowly is shown by the fact that the mortar between the bricks of
chimneys centuries old is found to contain a considerable percentage
of unchanged lime. This mortar, when first laid, will not bear wetting,
and will set only in dry air.

The Romans had learned before the Christian Era that the addi-
tion to lime mortar of volcanic ash or pozzuolana would make the
mortar set under water and with additional strength. The so-called
Roman cement was noted in antiquity for its superior strength when
compared with ordinary lime mortar. Where they could not obtain the
pozzuolana they used pulverized brick and pottery.

During the middle ages, for more than a thousand years, the art of
making hydraulic cement ivas lost, and, with every other art, the art of
making good mortar declined until the beginning of the eighteenth
century, when attempts were made to revive the art of making Roman
cement, but with only slight success.

VOL. LX. — 10.

146 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

In the year 1756, the celebrated engineer, John Smeaton, was
wrestling with the problem of constructing the Eddystone Lighthouse,
While experimenting with different varieties of mortar, he discovered
that certain limestones produced an hydraulic lime. He found that a
mortar made of pure lime and pozzuolana or powdered bricks gave
only unsatisfactory results, but when an impure lime from the
'Alberthaw' was used the hydraulic properties were more fully de-
veloped. Continuing his experiments, he at length announced that
o]ily limestones containing clay produced a lime of satisfactory
hydraulic properties.

Speaking of this discovery, Smeaton says in his 'JSTarrative of the
Eddystone Lighthouse' :

It remains a curious question, which I must leave for learned naturalists
and chemists, why an intermediate mixture of clay in the composition of lime-
stone of any kind, either hard or soft, should render it capable of setting in
water in a manner no pure lime I have yet seen, from any kind of stone what-
ever, is capable of doing.

It is easy to add clay in any proportion to pure lime, but it produces
no such effect ; it is easy to add brick dust, either finely or coarsely powdered, to
such lime in any proportions also; but this seems unattended with any other
effect than what arises from other bodies, becoming porous and spongy and
therefore absorbent of water as already hinted and excepting what may reason-
ably be attributed to the irony particles that red brick dust may contain.

In short, I have as yet found no treatment of pure calcareous lime that
renders it more fit to set in water than it is by nature, except what is to be
derived from the admixture of trass, pozzuolana and some ferruginous substance
of similar nature.

These investigations and the conclusions that he drew from them led
Smeaton to use in the construction of the Eddystone Lighthouse a
mortar or cement composed of hydraulic lime from the Alberthaw and
Italian pozzuolana. A step or two farther in his investigations, which
he did not take and which were not taken until the middle of the last
century, would have led to the Portland Cement of the present time.

In 1796, a Mr. Parker, of London, patented a process for what he
called 'Poman Cement." He used for this purpose certain nodules of
limestone containing clay that were found along the coasts of the Isle of
Sheppy and certain parts of Kent and Essex. These nodules were first
calcined and then reduced to fine powder in mills. The result was a
cement of a better quality than Smeaton's. In 1818, one Canvass
White discovered and patented in the United States a process for
making cement from a similar rock, found at Payetteville, in central
I^Tew York. Large quantities were manufactured and used in the con-
struction of locks on the Erie Canal, which was then being built. The
State of New York purchased the patent and made it public property.
This laid the foundation of a great industry, which is known generally

CEMENT FOR A MODERN STREET. 147

ns the 'Natural Cement Industry/ but locall}^ in the neighborhood of
New York City as the Kosendale Cement Industry.

Continuing these experiments it was found that the rocks found in
a few localities produced cements of a quality superior to those in
general use. This was particularly true of a stone found in the Island
of Portland. At length artificial mixtures of limestone and clay were
made and burned under such conditions that the resulting cement very
closely resembled the natural cement made from the Portland rock.
These results led to the adoption of the name of Portland for all
cements of this class^ whether made in England, where the name
originated, or elsewhere. The first attempts to prepare a cement by
artificial mixtures, in imitation of the natural Portland rock, were
made in France about 1802.

Portland cements, as at present manufactured, were first made in
Ihigland by a process that was patented in 182-i, although there had
been several patents for 'Portland Cements' previously issued. In the
patent specifications of 1824 occurs the following description of the
process used:

I take a specific quantity of limestone and calcine it. I then take a specific
quantity of clay and mix it with water to a state approaching impalpability.
After this proceeding I put the above mixture into a slip-pan for evaporation
till the water is entirely evaporated. Then I break the said mixture into suit-
able lumps and calcine them in a furnace similar to a lime-kiln until the car-
bonic acid is entirely expelled. The mixture, so calcined, is to be ground to a
line powder, and it is then in a fit state for cementing. The powder is to be
mixed with a sufficient quantity of water to bring it into the consistency of
mortar, and this applied to the purposes wanted.

It will thus be seen that at the middle of the last century there were
in use: Common lime mortar, consisting of slacked lime and sand;
made all over the world and used for common masonry and plastering.

Also Eoman cement, made by mixing common lime and some dry
aluminous material, like pulverized tufa, brick or slag. This was
stronger than common mortar and slightly hydraulic.

Also, natural cement, called Kosendale cement in the United States,
made by burning and grinding a natural limestone containing clay.
These natural cements are of very varying quality and are hydraulic,
;'. e., will set or harden under Avater.

Also, Portland cements, called also Artificial cements, made by
grinding limestone or marl, both of which are nearly pure carbonate of
lime, and mixing it in proper proportions with ground clay, which is a
silicate of alumina containing a variable proportion of the oxides of
iron. This mixture is calcined at a temperature that will produce semi-
fusion and the resulting clinker is ground to a fine powder. The powder
is 'aged' in order to partially slack the lime. The powder is mixed with

148

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

sand and water to the consistency of mortar and used. Like natural
cement, Portland cements are hydraulic, and they make the strongest
mortars known.

A modern street consists of a foundation of broken stone that is
formed into a concrete or solid mass of masonry by admixture with
mortar. The character and quality of this mortar are a matter of the
greatest importance. All of the four kinds of mortar mentioned above
have been used for this purpose.

An experiment was made in London by laying in Holborn, opposite
Gray's Inn, nine inches of lime mortar concrete with a floating on top
of % inches of lime mortar. Upon this foundation was laid a surface
of Val de Travers asphalte. When the concrete was ready to receive the

Fig. 1. Coal Du.mi'.s and Inclines to Kilns.

asphalte, a fire broke out in Holborn ; the place was flooded with water,
the engines drove over the concrete and the population of Gray's Inn
trampled it down. It was subsequently made good and the asphalte
spread. Tor five or six years the road was kept up at considerable ex-
pense and then relaid. On removing the asphalte, it was found that
the lime concrete had never set, that the mortar floating had never
adhered to the concrete, but was mostly in powder, produced either Jby
the action of the rammers or by the trafiic afterwards.

Eoman cement was tried in Paris and condemned for street
foundations. There remains for use for this purpose natural cement

CEMENT FOR A MODERN STREET. 149

and Portland cement. The details of the process of manufacture will
now be given.

In the United States the manufacture of natural cements is chiefly
carried on in the Lehigh Valley, near Louisville, Ky., at Akron, Ohio,
at Milwaukee, Wis., and at Glens Falls and other points in the State
of Xew York. While the rocks occurring at these different points are
not identical, either in geological age or in chemical composition, they
are in many respects similar. In geologic age they are of carboniferous
age or older and in chemical composition they consist of limestones in
V, hich clay occurs, either uniformly disseminated throughout the rock,
forming a very intimate admixture, or else interstratified with the
layers of limestone, so that when the rock is broken up and burned, the
resulting mixture of the constitiients of the rock is very intimate. Yet
intimate as tlie mixture is, both before and after burning and grind-
ing, in all the ledges the rock has to be sorted and mixed in the same
quarry with the greatest care, in order to insure a uniform product
from the same works. From the diiferent localities the output is
sufficiently different to give the Louisville, Milwaukee and other brands
distinctive, though unimportant, characteristics.

At all the natural cement works substantially the same method of
manufacture is followed, although the details are modified to suit
different localities.

One of the most extensive natural cement plants in the country is
ihat of the Milwaukee Cement Co., at Milwaukee, Wis., the officers of
which have kindly furnished the accompanying illustrations. Fig. 1
shows the tramway approaches to the kilns, which are arranged in a
double set of ten each. The rock is quarried in the immediate neigh-
borhood and is run in tram-cars, Avhich are seen in the middle fore-
ground, up the inclines to the top of the kilns into which the rock is
thrown. The trestle on the right is the dump for coal, which is also
loaded into tram cars, one of which is seen at the chute, and run up
the incline to the kilns. The rock and fuel are thus conveniently sup-
plied to the kilns at the top, while the burned cement is removed from
the kilns at the bottom. Fig. 3 shows one of the kilns on the left; the
grinding and shipping house in the center, with the inclines up which
the burned cement is hauled and the railroad tracks over which the
cement is shipped in all directions from Milwaukee. Fig. 3 represents
the grate at the bottom of the kiln, from which the burned cement is
removed, while fresh rock and fuel are supplied at the top, thus making
the action of the kilns continuous.

Two obstacles make it impossible to prepare a theoretically perfect
cement from the natural rock. The first is a lack of uniformity in the
rock itself as it occurs in the quarry. This difficulty is obviated as
nearly as is po?si])lo by careful sorting. l)y which the least desirable rock

I50

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Fig. 2. Inclines entering grinding House and Tracks connecting with all Rail.

roads entering milwalkee.

Fig. ?,. Bottom of Kiln, Campbell Patent, s;ho\\ing Calcined Material

CEMENT FOR A MODERN STREET.

151

is rejected and the varied masses selected are carefully mixed so as to
ensure a uniform grade. The second is the difficulty of burning the
rock in kilns and in large masses so uniformly as to ensure complete
burning and no considerable amount of overburning. If natural
cement rock is overburned or fused, it becomes a slag, and loses its
hydraulic properties. It is not surprising, therefore, that a considerable
lack of uniformity exists in the quality of the natural cement found
upon the market. The best of them contain a considerable amount of
impurity, or material that is not cement, that exists in the rock before
it is burned, and also a considerable amount of unburned rock, which
together serve to dilute the cement proper, as if a certain amount of
sand had already been added to the cement before it is used. These
impurities that are inherent in the nature of the materials from which
the natural cement is made and also in the process of manufacture
that is of necessity followed, result in a cement that can be made and
sold at a less price than Portland cement and that is inferior to it for
many purposes, while, on the other hand, for a great many purposes
natural cements have been found to answer every requirement and are
made and used in enormous quantities.

For Portland cements, either a very pure natural limestone or marl
is selected and brought into a very finely pulverized condition. Lime-
stones are selected as free as possible from every impurity except clay.
]Magnesia is never absent, and at best is an inert impurity, but the
amount present should not exceed five per cent. Marl is frequently
used and is generally purer than limestone. In England chalk is gen-
erally used. In Germany chalk and a limestone, locally known as
'mergel,' which is soft and contains clay, are employed.

The following table, No. I., taken from 'Cement Industry,' page 1 2,
gives the composition of the carbonate of lime in use in some of the
leading Portland cement manufactories in the United States: .

Table I.

Limestones and Marls.

Chalk,

England,

(Reed).

Cement
Rock, La
Salle, Ills.

Calcium carbonate... 98.57

Magnesium " 0.38

Calcium sulphate

Silica 0.64

Alumina 0.16

Iron oxide 0 08

88.16

1.78

8.20
1.00
0.30

' Cement
Rock,
Phillips-
jburg, N. J.

70.10
3.96

15.05

9.02

i 1.27

' Cement 1
Rock,
Siegfiied,
Penna. [

Marl, '
Sandusky,
Ohio.

68.91

91.77

4.28

0.53

3.19

17.32

0.22

7.07

1.22

2.04

0.40

Marl,
vracust
■ Ind.

88.49
2.71
1.58
1.78
0.91
0.30

The clay should be highly siliceous, but should be free from grains
of sand. Clays containing carbonate of lime or marl are softer and
more easily mixed with the other materials. Clays containing 70%,
or more, of silica stand firing without fusing, produce a clinker that

152

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

i? easy to grind and yield a cement that sets slowly and gains strength
over a long period. On the contrary, highly aluminous clays give a
fusible clinker and quick-setting cement. A high authority states that
the percentage of silica in the clay should be three times the percentages
of the alumina and iron taken together. The less iron the clay and
limestone contains the lighter colored will be the cement.

The following table, No. II., also taken from Tement Industry,'
luige 13, gives the composition of the clays in use in several Portland
cement manufactories :

Table II.

Clays.

Med way,
England.

Harper,
Ohio. -

Sandusky,
Ohio.

La Salle, Ills.

Silica

Alumina

70.56

14.52

3.06

4.43

348
3.95

51.50
13.23

3.30
11.52

3.45
12.85

65.41

16.54

6.06

2.22

1.88

54.30
19.33

Irou oxide

5.57

Lime

3.29

Maiinesia

2.57

Carbonic acid

Alkalies

A large part of the Portland cement manufactured in the United
States is made from natural cement rock, that is, from a rock that con-
tains both the carbonate of lime and clay, very intimately mixed in a
natural rock. The best cements, however, are made from an artificial
mixture of either limestone or marl and clay. The proportions are
determined after very careful chemical analysis in such manner that
the several ingredients that form cement shall not only be free from
harmful sub'stances, but shall combine to produce theoretical chemical
compounds in certain quantitative relations.

Although much has been written for many years concerning the
chemistry of hydraulic cements, it is only within about 25 years that
researches have been conducted in such a manner that by constructing
the compounds possessing hydraulic properties from pure elementary
materials, much light has been thrown upon the problem. The French
chemist Vicat suggested an 'hydraulic index' to designate the hydraulic
])roperties of diflierent cements, which is a figure representing the
number of parts of silica and alumina combined with 100 parts of lime
and magnesia.

In 1872 Erdmenger showed that in commercial Portland cements
the ratio of lime to the acid constituents, silica, alumina and iron
oxide taken together, averaged 1.9. At about the same date, Michaelis
determined the ratio, as between 1.8 and 2.2, and called it the 'hydraulic
modulus.' These ratios no longer represent the composition of Port-
land cements as with improved methods of manufacture the proportion
of lime has steadily increased, until the 'hydraulic modulus' is no
longer applicable to the varying conditions and materials under which
the cements are now manufactured.

CEMENT FOR A MODERN STREET.

153

Since 1890 great progress has been made in the United States in
the application of theoretical and scientific principles to the technology
of Portland cements, and the result has been an enormous expansion
of the business with an improved quality of the product.

The original method pursued in England, and largely adopted
elsewhere, was to grind the materials very wet, floating off the fine
particles to a large tanlv where they were allowed to settle. The settling
and drying required a great deal of time. This method was followed
by a dry process in which the materials were ground together dry and
then moistened sufficiently to be molded into briquettes. The bri-
quettes were then dried and stacked in a kiln and burned. The intro-
duction of rotary kilns rendered the molding and drying unnecessary
as either dry or wet materials, as a dry powder or wet mud are fed
directly to the kilns. The composition of the materials, whether it

Fig. 4. General View of Works of Virginia Portland Cement Company, Craigsville

Augusta Co., Va.

be cement rock or mixed materials, must be maintained by constant
chemical analysis, as the percentage of carbonate of lime should not
vary by more than I/2 per cent, from that found correct for the other
materials used.

From the foregoing statements it will be observed that two quite
different methods of manufacture are followed. In the first the cement
'mix' is molded into briquettes, which are dried, stacked in a kiln and
burned. For the burning by this method three different forms of kiln

154

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

are used: 1. The intermittent dome kilns that resemble in their
operation common lime kilns. 2. Continuous kilns, of the Ditzseh or
Schoefer patterns. 3. The Hoffman ring-kiln. These kilns are
economical in fuel, but expensive in time and labor. The dome-kiln
was the first used, but has now disappeared from the United States,
and survives in Europe only in a few localities. The continuous kilns
require highly skilled labor, and are used only to a limited extent
either in the United States or Europe. The Hoffman ring-kiln is
widely used in Europe, but has found few patrons in the United States.
The second method of manufacture of Portland cement is by the
use of the rotary furnace, into which the mix is fed as a dry powder or
ad a wet mud. Although the rotary cement furnace was originally
patented in England, by Frederic Eansome, in 1885, it has been im-
proved in the United States to such an extent that it has become prac-

Fk;. 5. Stone House wheiie Matekiai.s ake Sokted.

tically an American invention. Eansome's patent required the use
of gas for fuel and the first rotary kilns installed in the United States
required gas, but gas was soon replaced by crude petroleum. This fuel
took the place of gas entirely, and was exclusively used until it was
replaced by pulverized coal, blown into the kilns and burned in a jet
like gas or sprayed petroleum. The current or blast of air which
carries the powdered coal into the kiln furnishes the oxygen for its
complete combustion. This is a convenient method for burning the
cheapest fuel on tlie market, and while it is not economical of fuel it

Cl'JMENT FOR A MODERN STREET.

^55

is very economical of labor and is very uniform in its action, which
is an extremely desirable condition in the cement industry.

I am indebted to the obliging courtesy of the officers of the Virginia
Portland Cement Co., of Craigsville, Augusta Co., Va., for the
accompanying illustrations of a Portland Cement Plant.

Fig. 4 is a general view of the works, which it will be seen at once
are very unlike the natural cement works, at Milwaukee. All the opera-
tions of a Portland cement works are under cover. Fig. 5 represents

Frc. 6. Ri)TAi:v Kiln?

the stone house where the materials are received and sorted, preparatory
to being finely ground. A great variety of mills are used for grinding
both the crude materials and the cement clinker. So far as the
making of the cement is concerned, it does not matter in what kind of
a mill the ingredients may be ground, provided they be ground fine and
thoroughly mixed in the right proportions. If the mixture is burned
dry, the mixing is accomplished by the use of screens and sieves; if it
ic burned wet, the grinding is done in a wet mill, the paste being floated
ofE and allowed to settle in large tanks. The dry materials are blown
into the kiln. The wet mud is allowed to drip into the upper end of
the kiln as it is forced in by a pump.

Fig. 6 represents the rotary kiln. It consists of a slightly inclined
steel cylinder, about 60 feet in length and 6 to 7 feet in diameter,
lined with fire-brick, and revolving by means of powerful gears at the

156

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rate of one revolution in from one to three minutes. Fig. 7 shows the
arrangement of apparatus for injecting at the center of the kiln an
air blast which carries with it the powdered coal, received from the
hopper shown on the right. The rotation of the kiln keeps the '^mix' in
constant motion as it passes through the kiln, when it is first dried,
then deprived of its carbonic acid and then vitrified or partially fused
in such manner as to insure the proper chemical reaction between the
basic lime and the acid silica, alumina and iron. Only that skill that
is determined by experience can direct the burning at such a tempera-
ture that the continuous operation of the kilns will result in a clinker
that is neither underburned nor overburned.

Fic. 7. Apparatvs foi! Fkiodinc; Coal to Kii.xs.

So far as the chemistry of cement burning is understood, it appears
that at a red heat the water is expelled from the clay; the carbonic
acid is then driven from the lime, and it escapes. The silica, alumina
and iron of the clay then combine with the lime, first forming fusible
glasses and then taking on more lime ; at length the tri-calcium silicate
informed with the alumina and iron as calcium alumino-ferrite.

Properly burned clinker is in hard rounded grains about the size of
dried peas and of a greenish-black color. If it is underburned, it is
light colored and soft. If it is overburned it becomes like slag. If it
is burned too long, it falls to powder on cooling. Uneven burning is
more common in vertical than in rotary kilns, hence the product of
rotary kilns is more uniform, ensuring a better cement as the burning

CEMENT FOR A MODERN STREET. 157

is performed qiuckly and is quickly arrested when the process is com-
pleted.

Experience has proved that the burning of cement is an important
factor in its manufacture as determining its qualities. A cement that
is properly proportioned, thoroughly mixed and well burned and finely
ground will set in about two hours after mixing with water, will harden
well after setting and will continue to harden through long periods,
even to several years. Ground gypsum is frequently added to cement
to control the setting.

Cement should be finely ground. Ninety-two to ninety-three per
cent, should pass a sieve of 100 meshes to the linear inch.

Until within the last decade, the Portland cements manufactured in
the United States were generally inferior to the best English, German,
Belgian and French brands. While these foreign cements have been
maintained with the highest degree of excellence the American brands
have been greatly improved until at the present time there are no
better cements made anvwhere in the world than in the United States.

158 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE INFLUENCE OF EAINFALL ON COMMERCE

AND POLITICS.

Bv H. HELM CLAYTOX,
I'.IIE mil. METEni;ol.or;'(AL OBSERVATOKV.

THE causes which control human life and human actions are com-
plex and difficult to grasp; yet, to act reasonably and to progress,
man must somehow unravel the tangle of causes and assign to each its
true value.

Perhaps, in no department of life are the causes assigned for cer-
tain results more varied than in politics. Yet every man with a sense
of duty toward his nation feels that he must accept some of the sug-
gested causes as the proper ones, in order that he may form the ideals
which guide his actions.

The causes popularly assigned for political and economic changes
are almost universally those arising from human actions. A high
tariff is assumed as sufficient cause for business prosperity by one class
of thinkers, and by another class is assumed to tend toward financial
distress. The threat of a silver standard in monetary affairs is consid-
ered by one party as a sufficient cause for tremendous business dis-
turbances. With equal certainty these disturbances are considered by
another party to be due to the gold standard. Even the success at the
polls of a certain political party is assumed by some to be a sufficient
cause for general prosperity. One well-known senator has maintained
his ability to show, notwithstanding the various phases of opinion
through which each of the large political parties has passed, that the
success of one particular party at the polls has always been followed by
prosperity in the nation, while an opposite result has followed the elec-
tion of the other party.

It is not my object, nor is it possible for me here, to collect and weigh
the evidence which has been given for each of these opinions. My
object is to show that, besides those mentioned, there are other forces
which act on man in his business and political relations, and that no
satisfactory opinion can be formed as to the relative importance of the
various causes until these also are considered.

As a professional investigator in science, I am frequently brought
to consider the tremendous influences that natural phenomena in the
earth, air and sky have on human affairs, and to wonder that these in-

BAINFALL AND COMMERCE AND rOLITICS. 159

fluences on man's political and business relations are not more fre-
quently considered.

One of the fundamental needs of man, in fact a prime necessity, is
a sufficient food supply. When food is abundant and hunger is satis-
rled there is a surplus of energy to expend on other human affairs,
and this, I presiime, most people will admit is the primary condition of
prosperity.

The food-supply at present is obtained almost entirely from the soil,
and its growth is intimately dependent on weather conditions. The
relation of the food-supply to the weather has been investigated to
some extent, and it is found that the factors which most powerfully in-
fluence the food-product are temperature and moisture, which latter is
derived from rainfall. The annual change in temperature is com-
paratively regular and certain, so that the factor which, by its changes,
most powerfully influences the food-product, is the rainfall.

J. T. Wills investigated the relation of the rainfall to the wheat-
product per acre in south Australia for the six winter months (the
growing season there), and found that for the seven best years there
was a yield of 12.4 bushels of wheat with 18.5 inches of rain; for the
next best years there were 10.0 bushels of wheat with 15.4 inches of
rain; and for the six worst years there were 6.6 bushels of wheat with
13.5 inches of rain. The product of wheat in the fiM case was nearly
twice as great as in the last. If such a relation holds for the United
States, it is easy to understand what great effect a general drought may
have on the food product. If the amount of wheat raised in the United
State were reduced one half or even one third by a year of deficient
rainfall, it is easy to imagine an enormous strain on the business of the
sountr}^, and with a succession of such years the effect might mean dis-
aster. Such a deficiency in the wheat supply, with wheat at 80 cents
a bushel, would mean for a single year a direct loss in wealth of more
than $100,000,000 ; it would mean that nearly all the wheat which is
usually shipped abroad would be needed at home; it would mean that
thousands of railroad cars and ships which ordinarily transport this
grain would lie idle; that hundreds of men who usually handle this
grain in transport would be out of employment; that farmers in large
numbers would be unable to meet their obligations; and consequently,
that banks and business of all kinds would suffer.

But the deficiency in rainfall would not affect the wheat alone ; every
product of the soil would likewise suffer. Eawson has worked out a
simple formula in the case of Barbadoes by means of which the amount
of sugar to be exported the next year can be calculated with great
accuracy from the rainfall of the current year. This calculation is
accurate within six per cent, in most cases. Similar calculations for
Jamaica have been made by Maxwell Hall. He shows that 56 inches of

i6o

POPULAB SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rain give 1,441 casks of sugar per acre, while 79 inches give 1,559,
or about one-tenth more. This means an increase in the value of the
sugar-crop alone of £100,000.

District.

Rainfall,
inches.

Sheep per
sq. mile.

Increased capacity for every
inch of rain.

South Australia

8 to 10 8 to 9
13 96

1 sheep per mile.
22

New South Wales (1)

New South Wales (2)

20
34

640
2630

70

Buenos Ayres -

140

:

Xor is the influence of rainfall on vegetable life alone to be con-
sidered, as is evident from the following data gathered by Wills con-

Table Comparing Rainfalls, Water-levels and Commercial

Crises.

Departure from Normal.

1
Departure from Normal.

Dates.

1 in
) Val-
hes).

1

Com-
mercial

Dates.

11 in
) Val-
hes).

1 in
. Val-
hes).

ci.

Com-
mercial

infal
Oh.c
(inc

in fa

Miss
(inc

Crises.

in fa

Miss
(inc

Crises.

4J —

-■

5 (U>,

^S

1830

+2.0

1864

—0.3

—2.5

— .08

1831

+5.1

1865

+3.0

—1.4

— .32

1832

+ 1.9

. ....

1866

+4.0

—0.7

— .65

1833

—1.9

1867

+1.6

—0.6

— .21

1834

6.1

1868

+ 1.1

+0.9

— .70

183.S

—6.8

; 1869

—1.1

+ 0.7

— .58

1836

—4.5

1870

—4.7

—2.1

+ .33

1837

—0.4

Panic

1871

—7.2

-3.2

+ .26

1838

—3.3

1872

—6.0

-2.7

—1.02

1839

—4.5

1873

—2,7

—3.2

— .37

Panic

1840

—2.1

1874

—0.5

—2.6

+ .12

1841

+0.8

1875

+0.5

+L5

— .13

1842

+2.2

1876

—0.3

+5.5

+1.00

1843

+2.1

1877

—2.8

+5.2

+ .77

1844

+0.9

1878

—3.2

+ 2 1

+ .46

1845

+1.9

1879

—0.3

+1.4

— .46

1846

+6.0

1880

+3.4

+4.0

— .32

1847

+8.3

1881

+6.4

+6.1

+ .20

1848

+7.6

+ 6.8

1882

+8.0

+ 5.4

+ .57

1849

+6.6

+ 15.6

1883

+ 6.0

+ 3.9

+ .72

1850

+ 4.7

+22.8

1884

+1.0

+2.7

+ .82

1851

+ L3

+26.4

1885 ,

—2.4

40.4

+ 1.07

1852

—0.8

+21.5

;

1886 ;

—2.8

—1.8

+1.31

1853

0.0

+ 9.0

1887

—1.5

-3.4

+ .67

1854

—0.4

— 1.0

1888

+0.4

-3.1 ,

+ .06

1855

—1.0

— 2.2

1889

+ 2.9

-3.0-

— .49

1856

—2.4

+ 2.1

1

1890

+ 39

-2.5 1

— .40

1857

+0.5

+ 5.2

Panic

1891

+1.9

—1.4

—1.16

1858

+4.9

+ 5.3

1892 :

—1.7

—1.0

—1.27

1859

+4.2

+ 2.2

1893

—4.7

—2.8

- .99

Panic

1860

+0.9

- 0.1

-f-i.()7

1894

—7.4

—5.2

-.87 1

1861

—0.5

+ 2.4

+ 1.05

1895

—8.1 1

—6.0

—1.91

1862

—1.2 1 + 3.5 1

+ 1.01

1896

—6.4'

-5.2

1863

—2.1 i 0.0 1

+ 0.54

1

1897 i

i

i

UAISFALL AND COMMERCE AND POLITICS. i6i

eerning the number of sheep which can be pastured per square mile
with different rainfalls.*

Such investigations have not been made for the United States, but
the data indicate clearly the enormous variations in the food-supply,
both vegetable and animal, which attend variations in rainfall; and
they suggest how these variations must affect the producer, the trans-
porter, the merchant and the consumer. Hence it is easy to imagine
the great influence which variations in rainfall may have on com-
merce and through this on politics.

The accompanying table gives the variations in the amount of rain-
fall in the Ohio Valley and in the Mississippi Valley which lie about
the center of the food-producing area in the United States and include
a large part of this area. The data are derived from tables prepared
by Professor A. J. Henr}^, of the United States Weather Bureau, and
published by the Bureau as Bulletin 'D,' entitled 'Eainfall of the
United States,' Washington, 1897. The average rainfall for each dis-
trict was made up from a number of stations in the district, the same
stations being used so far as the records would permit throughout the
period 1830 to 1896. The sharp, irregular fluctuations which charac-
terize the rainfall were toned down by Professor Henry by taking the
means of several successive years. This process is called 'smoothing' and
it renders more evident the long-period oscillations. The average rain-
fall for each district was obtained, and the departures of the rainfall
for each year from tins mean are given in the accompanying table. The
plus sign indicates that the rainfall for the given year was above the
mean, and the minus sign that it was below. The figures give the
amounts in inches and tenths of inches. The figures for the Mississippi
Valley from 1848 to 1857 are derived from the observations at one
station only.f

The t-able also gives the departures from the mean value of the level
of the water in Lake Michigan. These data have been carefully col-
lected by the engineers on the lakes and were kindly furnished by
General John M. Wilson, Chief of Engineers, U. S. Army. The
figures show, in feet, the departures of the annual means from the gen-
eral average. The lake may be regarded as an enormous rain-gauge.
When the rainfall is in excess, the water level rises above the mean; but

* These facts are largely derived from Hann's 'Climatology,' a standard
work on climate. (See Ward's English Translation.)

t Professor Henry also gives the rainfall for New England. Although the
oscillations run roughly parallel to those in the interior valleys the data are not
reproduced here, ( 1 ) because Mr. E. B. Weston has shown that the early meas-
urements are probably deficient on account of the methods of measuring the
snowfall; (2) because New England has largely ceased to be an agricultural
region.

VOL. LX. — 11.

i62 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

during droughts evaporation exceeds the supply, and the level falls
below the mean. Alongside of these data are indicated the dates of the
severe financial panics in the United States. The dates of these panics
were taken from one of the current histories of the United States.

The table shows that the observations in the Ohio Valley began
during a period when the rainfall exceeded the average amount. This
lasted through 1832, after which a severe drought set in, lasting until
1840. The severe financial panic of 1837 occurred in the midst of this
drought and about two years after the greatest deficiency of rainfall
in the Ohio Valley. The rainfall statistics for New England show
that there was also a very severe and protracted drought in the eastern
states at that time, culminating in 1836 to 1837, when the annual rain-
fall was nearly nine inches below the normal. In 1841 began a period
of excess in rainfall lasting until 1853, after which a period of drought
set in, culminating in 1855 in the Mississippi Valley, and in 1856 in
the Ohio Valley. This was followed by the severe financial panic of
1857. This was in turn followed by another period of excess in rain-
fall, lasting until 1860 in the Ohio Valley, and until 1863 in
the Mississippi Valley, when another period of deficient rainfall
set in with the greatest deficiency in 1863 and 1864. Any com-
mercial effect attending this drought was overshadowed by the tre-
mendous disturbances in the life of our country attending the civil
war. Another period of excessive rainfall occurred between 1866 and
1869, followed by a severe drought which reached its maximum in the
Ohio Valley and Mississippi Valley in 1871, and in the Lake Eegion
in 1872. This was followed by the severe panic of 1873. This in turn
was followed by another period of excessive rainfall which began in
the Mississippi Valley in 1875, in the Lake Eegion in 1876 and in the
Ohio Valley in 1879 and lasted until between 1884 and 1887. This
was accompanied and followed by a period of unusual business activity
and enterprise, especially in our western states. With 1887 began a
long and severe drought, lasting nearly ten years and reaching its
maximum severity in 1895. During this interval the United States
was well covered by observing stations and permitted Professor Henry
to make an investigation of the deficiency of rainfall for the entire
United States. He says, in speaking of this interval, 1887 to 1896, 'T^t
appears beyond question that there has been a very general deficiency
of rain in the great majority of the years and in almost all the dis-
tricts. Moreover, there does not seem to be any law of compensation
by which a deficit in one district is balanced by a surplus in another.
The South Atlantic and Gulf States, in particular, show a marked
deficit throughout almost the entire period." This drought was relieved
in some sections about 1889 to 1891, as in the Ohio Valley, by an ex-
cess of rainfall for two or three years. In the midst of this drought

RAINFALL AND COMMERCE AND POLITICS. 163

occurred the severe financial panic of 1893 to 1894. This panic
occurred one or two years before the greatest deficiency of rainfall and
thus differed from the preceding panics which occurred one or two
years after the greatest deficiency. But a very marked depression in
business activity continued throughout the interval 1893 to 1897 in-
clusive.

It is thus evident that every severe financial panic has been
closely associated with a protracted period of deficient rainfall, and
there has been no period of protracted drought without a severe
financial panic except a period, the effects of which were masked by the
large disturbances attending our civil war. Hence, it is difficult to
avoid the conviction that periods of deficient rainfall are the para-
mount causes of the periods of commercial distress, especially when
the means by which the two are connected are so reasonable.

As another link in the chain of causation, it is interesting to trace
the coincidences between the periods of deficient rainfall, deficient food
supply and financial panics and the subsequent changes in political life.

Concerning the panic of 1837, I quote the following from a cur-
rent history, "The panic of 1837 was a severe blow to Van Buren and
his party. A slight return of the panic in 1839 completed the work;
and though his party stood manfully by him and renominated him for
the presidency, he was defeated by the Whigs . . . like Jackson,
on a wave of enthusiasm, 'Tippecanoe and Tyler too' were trium-
phantly elected."*

In the presidential election following the financial panic of 1857,
that of 1860, the Democratic party which had previously been in
power was disorganized and broken into factions, and the new Eepub-
lican party sprang triumphantly into power. However, it is probable
that the great issue of slavery had a large share in these occurrences.

The first national election after the financial panic of 1873 was
that of 1874, when the Eepublican majority of 107 in the House of
Representatives was turned into a Democratic majority of 74, and two
years later the Democratic party failed in obtaining the presidency
only by the narrowest margin, although the country at the previous
presidential election had been overwhelmingly Eepublican.

The political effects following the commercial crisis of 1893 to 1894
were very striking. The Democrats who were then in power, realizing
that they were held responsible for the commercial distress, abandoned
every important issue for which they had previously stood, and, even
repudiating their former leader and his opinions, nominated a new
leader, the champion of a new issue. But this in no way saved them
from overwhelming defeat at the next election. The marked disturb-

'A History of the United States' by Allen C. Thomas, Boston, 1899.

i64 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ances in civil life following the commercial panic of 1893 was shown
by the 'Coxey army of 1894' and the Chicago riots.

It is interesting to read the various causes given for financial panics
and political upheavals even by historians. In 1837, the cause was said to
be the State Banks. In 1857, it was the too rapid railroad expansion.
In 1873, it was the reaction from the lavish expenditures attending the
civil war and the contraction of the currency. In 1893, it was the low
tariff and the 'free silver craze.' All of these may have been con-
tributory causes, but if my assumption is correct that deficiency of rain-
fall is the paramount cause in this chain of events, then vast political
and historical changes have been brought about, and the thoughts of
men have been swayed by opinions which are akin to superstitions,
because they attribute to human action what is due largely to natural
causes beyond the control of man.

The recent period of financial distress (1893-97) in the United
States was also a period of financial distress in Europe. This
may have been due to the fact that Europe depends to a large extent
on the United States for its food supply; or to the fact (which recent
observations seem to indicate) that long periods of drought and ex-
cessive rainfall embrace a large part of the world, if not the whole
world, in their operations, and are due perhaps to changes taking
place in the sun.

The following extract from an American newspaper reprinted in
the English periodical 'Xature,' 1895 (Vol. 53, p. 78), shows that
severe droughts in other parts of the world were coincident with the
one in the United States:

The long drought, which has caused so much inconvenience and damage this
fall, seems to have prevailed all round the world, if not in every part of it.
Europe has experienced it almost equally with this country, and in Australia it
has been more severe tlian here. So great was the distress in New South
Wales, that the Government appointed a Sunday in September as a day of
prayer for rain, and special services in accord with the proclamation were held
in all the churches of every denomination in Sydney and throughout the pro-
vince. The drought occurred in tlie antipodean spring, and greatly retarded
planting operations, as well as doing great general damage. In many districts
the grass was literally burned oflf the earth, and the mortality among stock was
great. The railway trains carried supplies of water from lakes and rivers to all
stricken points along the lines, selling it at the rate of 25 cents a thousand
gallons. The water supply of many towns entirely failed, the inconvenience ex-
perienced was acute everywhere, and many agriculturists were ruined.

The existence of this drought is confirmed by recent meteorological
reports from Australia. (See 'Science' of January 11, 1901, p. 75. A
note concerning a simultaneous drought in Great Britain is found in
'Nature,' 1895, Vol. 53, p. 597.). These years were followed by rapid
changes in political parties in Europe, especially in Great Britain and
France.

RAINFALL AND COMMERCE AND POLITICS. 165

On the other hand, the parties which are in power, when the in-
creased rainfall and subsequent prosperity reappear, claim and get the
credit for it, and are usually returned to power by large majorities.
In France, the present ministry has been in power for several years;
in England, the conservatives have been returned with immense
majorities; in Canada, the liberals were equally successful; and in our
own country, the republicans were returned on a 'tidal wave.'

To designate as a superstition the belief in the capacity of the
various political parties in power to make prosperity may be extreme,
but certainly careful thinkers will join in the wish that such relations
to natural phenomena as are here outlined might be carefully studied
by trained investigators, using well-kno^vn scientific methods. Per-
haps, then a unity of belief as to the causes of commercial distress
might be obtained equaling that which has prevailed since Darwin's
day as to the causes of variety and changes of form in the animal
kingdom.

Would that some wise benefactor would found an institu-
tion purely for research, where all such questions of man's relation to
the universe could be carefully investigated by trained investigators
using the well-tried and fruitful methods of science !

Such an institution should be perfectly free and independent of the
control of any other institution or party and especially should it be
free from Government control. No man should be appointed to it
because he believes in certain current theories, as, for example, free
trade, and would give free trade statistics while the free trade party
was in power, only to be dismissed and replaced by a man who would
give high tariff statistics while the high tariff party was in power.
His loyalty should be to the truth alone, and he should be allowed
perfect freedom of expression for his results and conclusions, however
much they might differ from accepted beliefs.

Such an institution, with an adequate endowment, devoted without
let or hindrance to the search for truth in every field of human activity,
would be of inestimable value to the nation.

Our universities, performing the threefold functions of training in
methods, diffusing knowledge and investigating the laws of nature, are
undoubtedly an immense power for progress in the nation. But they
have strangely neglected the atmosphere and its relations to
man. In only one university of our nation is there a professorship of
climatology, and that of so recent a date as to be almost of the present.
Is it any wonder that the influence of our atmosphere on health, com-
merce and politics is so little known? The work in meteorology in
America heretofore has been almost entirely outside of our univer-
sities; but surely this cannot last. Our universities should somehow
find means to give the study and teaching of meteorology their rightful
and independent places.

i66 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

LUCRETIUS AND THE EVOLUTION IDEA.

By Professor WILLIAM L. POTEAT, M.A.,

WAKE FOREST COLLEGE.

Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,
atque metus omnes et inexorabile fatum
subiecit strepitumque Acherontis avari.

—Virgil, Georg. II. 490-492.

It seem'd
A void was made in Nature; all her bonds
Crack'd; and I saw the flaring atom streams
And torrents of her myriad universe,
Ruining along the illimitable inane.
Fly on to clash together again, and make
Another and another frame of things
Forever: that was mine, my dream, I knew it.

— Tennyson, Lucretius.

Lucretius, nobler than his mood.

Who dropped his plummet down the broad,

Deep universe, and said, 'No God,'

Finding no bottom : he denied
Divinely the divine, and died
Chief poet on the Tiber-side

By grace of God : His face is stern
As one compelled, in spite of scorn,
To teach a truth he would not learn.

— Mrs. Browning, A Vision of Poets.

IN the essay on Dante, Macaulay reproached the English poets with
the tendency then showing itself among them to consider the
ohjects and phases of external nature fit material for the exercise of
their art. The reproach arose in part out of the fancied antagonism
between poetry and science, and it has been often echoed since that
day by poets as well as critics.

The judgment is a shallow one. Poetry is, indeed, imaginative.
Whatever else it may have or want, it ceases to be poetry when the glow
of imagination fades out of it. Science, on the other hand, occupies
itself with fact only, with things as they are observed to be, not as they
are imagined to be. But imagination and observation are not at war
with each other. Distinction is not opposition. And, besides, the
poet's constructive imagination is helpless without the materials sup-
plied by observation; and the scientist's observation is aimless and un-
fruitful without the stimulus and guidance of imagination.

LUCRETIUS AND THE EVOLUTION IDEA. 167

But a simpler and perhaps more decisive proof of the near and
hospitable relations of poetry and science is presented in the cases of
their actual union in the same person. When imagination ceases to
be mistress and becomes servant to observation, your poet turns
scientist. When observation yields the scepter to imagination, your
scientist turns poet. The names of Maxwell, Tyndall, Romanes and
Huxley suggest themselves as examples of scientists of the first rank
whose poetic gift is manifest in their published poems. Of the poets
of the first rank who have shown the scientific turn and interest, one
thinks first of Tennyson. He studied medicine until he imagined that
he had all the diseases set out in the books. His interest in astronomy
he maintained to the time of the 'twilight and evening star.' From his
student days at Cambridge when 'the fairy tales of science' first won
him, even down to the 'Locksley Hall Sixty Years After,' he meditated
deeply on evolution. The scientists of his period looked upon him as
their most intelligent mouthpiece in the world of letters. Goethe, it is
well known, felt more satisfaction in his scientific achievements than
in the poems which made him the chief figure in German literature. It
was a comparatively small thing to have written 'Faust,' but to be the
only person of his century who understood the science of colors — that
was a thing to be proud of.

Classic, as well as modern, literature offers illustrations of the
union of the poetic and the scientific interest. There are some extant
lines of Virgil headed, 'Virgil abandons other studies and embraces the
Epicurean Philosophy.' That this love of science — for ancient philos-
ophy included science — was no transient passion is attested by poems
on natural objects and by passages in the Georgics, the Eclogues and
the ^neid. His last fatal journey to Greece and Asia was undertaken
in order that he might complete the iEneid, and then devote the re-
mainder of his life to science. But in all the history of literature, the
best example of the fellowship of science and poetry is Lucretius, the
poet in whom we are here particularly interested; for he was not at
one time poet and at another time scientist, but rather both at once.
It is Mrs. Browning's judgment that Ijucretius 'died chief poet on the
Tiber-side,' and a Quarterly Reviewer has recently declared him to be
Rome's truest man of science. But such eminence in the two spheres
is paralleled in the case of Goethe. What makes the work of Lucretius
quite unique is the fact that his first-rate poetic capacity cooperates
with his capacity for science in the same task. The poet's imagina-
tion kindles into beauty the scientist's perceptions, and the issue is a
poetical treatise on physics and biology, or, if you prefer, a science
poem.

It is true that a certain type of mind in the eighteenth century was
drawn to Lucretius, recognizing in him a sort of fellowship oi

i68 rOPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

skepticism. But his present vogue dates only from the middle of the
nineteenth century, when the great questions which he treated reached
again the acute stage of interest. The search into the constitution of
matter and the origin and development of living beings, and the sharp
antagonisms of science and theology, which have distinguished the past
lialf century, called out of obscurity the poet-scientist who, quite alone,
passed over the same path two thousand years before. On account of
this kinship of task and attitude Lucretius, to the modern man of
science, is better known than any other ancient poet.

Professor Jowett used to say that all that was really known of
Shakespeare might be written on half a sheet of note-paper. Of
Lucretius very much less is known. Indeed, with the single exception
of Homer, there is no considerable writer of antiquity whose personal
history is so meager and vague. Two sentences by the Christian Father
Jerome and a single sentence by Donatus constitute his extant
biography. The statem.ents of Jerome are — that Lucretius was born
in the year B. C. 94; that, having been made insane by a love-potion,
he wrote, in the intervals of insanity, certain books wliich Cicero cor-
rected; and that he died by his own hand in the forty- fourth year of
his life. Donatus in his 'Life of Virgil' informs us that, on the day
when Virgil assumed the toga virilis, Lucretius died. By the help of
Donatus we can correct the birth-date given by Jerome, and fix it at
about the beginning of B. C. 98. The story of the philtre, insanity and
suicide is probably a legend with a historic germ of some unknown
tragedy in his life. Upon that legend Tennyson has made his poem of
'Lucretius,' which is a marvel at once of faithful portraiture and of
exquisite beauty.

If we turn through the 'De Eerum ISTatura' in hope of chance self-
revelations of the author, we are disappointed. He is almost as im-
personal as Shakespeare. He lets fall no fact of his station or fortunes
in life. We do, however, discover some of his personal characteristics.
Here is an austere and serious student of the problems of nature and
of human life and destiny. He is, as he says himself,* not only a
philosophical teacher and a poet, but also a moral reformer, and so
ardent is his zeal to effect his practical aim of emancipating men from
the bonds of superstition that he subordinates to it both his philosophy
and his poetic passion. His praise of the tranquil, obscure life suggests
that he knew and loved it. We are warranted in inferring that he
was the social equal of C. Memmius to whom his poem is addressed
and that accordingly he was of the governing class. But we catch
liints here and there that the political history of the last years of the
Eepublic only repelled and distressed him, and, having no leaning

* I. 931-934.

LUCRETIUS AND THE EVOLUTION IDEA. 169

to social pleasure, he chose to lead the retired and contemplative life,
'i^he Epicurean ethics, which he accepted, produced diverse practical
results according to the natures which received it. In shallower
natures, like those of Catullus and Horace, it produced an easy-going
life of pleasure-seeking; in deeper natures, like Lucretius, Virgil,
Epictetus, the same system showed itself in a sincere and strenuous
moral life closely akin to that of the Stoics. We may, therefore, accept
as historically true and as being well within the suggestions of the
poem, the words which Tennyson puts into the mouth of Lucretius:

I thought I lived securely as yourselves —
No lewdness, narrowing envy, monkey-spite.
No madness of ambition, avarice, none:
No larger feast than under plane or pine
With neighbors laid along the grass to take
Only such cups as left us friendly-warm.
Affirming each his own philosophy —
Nothing to mar the sober majesties
Of settled, sweet. Epicurean life.

We discover, moreover, his absolute sincerity and devotion to truth,
liis large and reverential conception of the sum of things — the
majestas cognita rerum — his high moral purpose and poetic fervor
which sustain him throughout a prolonged and difficult achievement at
an unusual elevation of thought and passion. As Professor Sellar
remarks, he combines in himself the Greek ardor of speculation and
the Eoman's firm hold on reality, the theorizing passion of the dawn
of science with the minute observation of its meridian.

So far as we know Lucretius left but one work, the "De Eerum
Xatura,' i. e., 'The Constitution of Things,' but that single work will,
as Ovid prophesied, preserve the memory of his genius until the world
disparts in its final catastrophe. Certainly in all the record of literary
effort, the poem is unmatched in at least one respect: it is a closely
reasoned system of natural philosophy in verse. Tennyson's 'Two
Voices' has been mentioned as like it in the wealth of poesy enlisted to
beautify abstruse argument. But the subject-matter of that striking
poem is different and yields itself more kindly to poetic treatment; it
seems, moreover, to be but a short 'swallow-flight of song' beside the
sustained elevation and wide sweep of the ancient master. Lucretius
had the example of Empedocles for the poetic form of his treatise, but
that alone would not have determined his choice. Two other considera-
tions moved him — first, his own poetic impulse, and, second, the wish
to make an unfamiliar doctrine attractive; he would overlay it, as he
says, with the pleasant honey of the muses.

But the purpose of the poem is not the emulation of the Sicilian
poet-philosopher, nor yet the gratification of his own sense for beauty.

lyo POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

He imposes on himself a far graver task. After a pathetic recital of
the sacrifice of Iphigenia on the altar of religion by the hand of her
father, Lucretius writes the great line of the poem —

Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum —

such are the evils to which religion leads! And he soon adds, "This
terror and darkness of mind must be dispelled, not by the rays of the
sun and the glittering shafts of day, but by the aspect and law of
nature." His lofty aim is no less than the permanent defeat of the
ancient reign of superstition by setting forth the new knowledge of
nature.

The poem is in six books, which aggregate nearly seven and a half
thousand lines. It is not far from three-fourths the length of 'Paradise
liost.' In the first book Lucretius expounds the physics of his great
master Epicurus, starting with the fundamental principle that nothing
comes from nothing, and the other that all that is is either atoms or
space. In the second book he derives all the properties of things from
the shapes and concourse of the atoms. The remaining books apply the
general principles of the first two to sensation and the doctrine of the
soul's immortality, the origin and the final ruin of the mass and fabric
of the world, the origin of plants and animals, the rise and development
of human civilization, and lastly the explanation of certain terrifying
phases of nature, as thunder, earthquake, volcanic eruptions and the
plague.

If it be asked, How can this exposition of ancient physics, biology
and physical geography be poetry? it must be answered that much
of it is not poetry. But the same is true of 'Paradise Lost' or 'The Ring
and the Book.' A poem is to be judged, not by the proportion of prosaic
content which it carries, nor by successes or infelicities of detail, but
by the single impression which it makes considered in its totality.
Judged by this standard the poem of Lucretius is one of the world's
masterpieces. It becomes all the more remarkable when we recall the
limitations under which the poet worked: the language in which he
wrote had hitherto been all unused to the music of verse, the exigencies
of the exposition of an obscure and prosaic subject-matter dominated
the treatment, and the yoke of a practical moral purpose was always on
the neck of the poetic impulse.

Of course the value of Lucretius does not lie in his science, and yet
our subject demands some consideration of at least one feature of his
scientific system. In the first place, he has, amid many puerilities,
some curious foreshadowings of modern scientific opinion. The fol-
lowing may be cited: the eternity of matter;"^ the conservation of
matter'^ and of force^ — Haeckel's 'law of substance'; the atomic con-

> I. 149, 150. *I. 215-266; II. 294-307. ' II. 294-307.

LUCRETIUS AND THE EVOLUTION IDEA. 171

stitution of matter;^ the doctrine of fibns,- which recalls Newton's
corpuscular theory and the very recent discovery of the 'Becquerel
rays'; the relations of waste and repair in youth and age;^ the invio-
lability of natural law.*

Of special interest to us is a passage in the fifth book^ which sets
forth the ideas of the struggle for existence and natural selection in
terms of remarkable clearness for a pre-Darwinian writer. Lucretius
even announces them in connection with the domestication of animals,
which was the precise point from which Darwin started in his effort to
account for 'the origin of species.'

And many races of living things must have then died out and been unable to
beget and continue their breed. For in the case of all things which you see
breathing the breath of life, either craft or courage or else speed from the begin-
ning of its existence protected and preserved each particular race. And there
are many things which, recommended to us by their useful services, continue to
exist consigned to our protection. In the first place, the fierce breed of lions and
the savage races their courage has protected, foxes their craft and stags their
proneness to flight. But light-sleeping dogs with faithful heart in breast and
every kind which is born of the seed of beasts of burden and at the same time
the woolly flocks and the horned herds are all consigned, Memmius, to the pro-
tection of man. For they have ever fled with eagerness from wild beasts and
have ensued peace and plenty of food obtained without their own labor, as we
give it in requital of their useful services. But those to whom nature has
granted none of these qualities, so that they could neither live by their own
means nor perform for us any useful ser%ace in return for which we should
suffer their kind to feed and be safe under our protection, those, you are to
know, would lie exposed as a prey and booty of others, hampered all in their
own death-bringing shackles, until nature brought that kind to utter destruc-
tion.'

In close sequence comes the most interesting portion of the entire
poem, the detailed account of the evolution of human society from the
rude ^ife after the roving fashion of wild beasts' up to the settled
security and elegancies of the highest civilization. Noteworthy in this
account is the representation of childhood as the first humanizing in-
fluence, the origin and growth of language, religious beliefs and social
order, the development of industries and of art, until the poet himself
appears 'to consign the deeds of men to verse.' Thus, says Lucretius,
"time by degrees brings each several thing forth before men's eyes, and
reason raises it up into the borders of light ; for things must be brought
to light one after the other and in due order in the different arts, until
these have reached their highest point of development."

^I. 267-328; II. 80-141, 333-477, 660-699.

' IV. 29 f .

»II. 1118-1147.

♦ V. 55-58.

"V. 855-877.

'Here, as elsewhere, I have used Munro's translation.

172 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

These citations of the evolution idea in Lucretius are a sufficient
refutation of the popuhir notion that somehow Darwin is responsible
for the invention of this revolutionary conception. Indeed, the doc-
trine of evolution is itself one of the best illustrations of the law of
evolution, for it has a continuous, progressive history of twenty-five
centuries. It stretches the slow process of its rise and development
from Thales' 'evolution's morning star,' more than six hundred years
before Christ, down to the present hour. The hazy surmises of the
early Greek speculation become precise and organic in the teaching of
Aristotle, that nature proceeds by gradual transitions from the most
imperfect to the most perfect, that the higher species are descended
from the lower, that man is the highest point of a long and continuous
ascent. The idea thus definitely enunciated by 'the master of those
that know,' may be traced through Lucretius to the Christian theo-
logians of the medieval period, and from them to the philosophers and
naturalists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. At the
beginning of the nineteenth century we meet Lamarck, the most im-
portant figure in this history since Aristotle. His 'Zoological Philos-
ophy' (1809) is the first elaborate exposition of the means or factors
of evolution as applied to the origin of living forms. From his day the
descent of the higher organisms from the lower was a standing ques-
tion among naturalists until the publication of Charles Darwin's
'Origin of Species' in 1859. That splendid product of a great mind
brooding for years on an enormous mass of facts, practically closed the
question and won at once the almost unanimous assent of the naturalists
of the world.

Our old-world poet not only takes an honorable place in the his-
torical development of scientific opinion, but also illustrates in his own
person certain modern phases of the relation between science and relig-
ion. He has been called the high-priest of atheism and the apostle of
irreligion. He does deny Providence and the future life with great
elaboration of argimient; he does scout with vehemence the current
theology and worship. And this, too, in the name of his scientific sys-
tem. But was his science atheistic and irreligious? His fierce indigna-
tion— does it burn against the gods themselves, or against the popular
conception of the gods? Does he despise religion itself, or the 'foul'
perversion of it ?

Eespecting Lucretius' opposition, in the name of science, to religion,
it is to be borne in mind that, speaking generally, the Eomans had no
genius for religion. They were called unto politics, as the Hebrews
were called unto religion. The national religion derived what vitality
it had from its alliance with the civic spirit, and with the decline of
that spirit, religion dropped into cant with a meager and barren ritual
and a train of grotesque superstitions. It was at times polluted by

LUCBETIUS AND THE EVOLUTION IDEA. 173

shocking immoralities, and there are hints here and there of human
sacrifices. The future life, even when it was allowed, was far from
attractive to a noble spirit, being a sort of languid and aimless shadow
of the i^resent life. The Roman gods are vague abstractions with no
appeal to the imagination or enthusiasm of their votaries, and, so far
as thev touch human life at all, malevolent and irresistible. This was
the body of religious beliefs and practices against which Lucretius pro-
tested in the interests of humanity. In doing so, he showed his essen-
tially religious nature. 'He denied divinely the divine.' The divine
within him recognized nothing kindred in what was currently called
divine, and he invoked the aid of science to dispel 'this terror and dark-
ness of mind.'

174

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

SENSORY MECHANISM OF PLANTS.
By d. t. macdougal,

FIRST ASSISTANT AND DIRECTOR OF THE LABORATORIES. NEW YORK BOTANICAL GARDEN.

THE relation of the vegetal organism to its environment has de-
manded a much more generalized type of sensory action than
that of the animal, Thus but few species of plants have developed spe-
cial perceptive organs. The sensory functions are exercised by ex-
tended regions of the body, yet the delicacy of appreciation of differ-
ences in the intensities of external forces is not surpassed by that of the
animal. Thus no plant has sensory organs for the reception of light-
stimuli, yet, as a matter of regulation of their main function of food-
building, leaves react to differences in intensity far beyond the range
of the unaided human eye. Special tactile organs are differentiated in
tendrils and in certain '^carnivorous' species and 'sensitive' plants,

Fig. 1. Surface View of Cells of Perceptive Region of the Columna of StyHclium
gramini/olium. After Habeklandt.

Fig. 2. Longitudinal Section THROUGH Fig. 3. Epidermal Cell of the Perceptive
A Single Papilla of an Epidermal layer of Tendril of Entada scandens.
Cell of the Columna of Styiidium
firaminifolium, which is Sensitive to
Contact.

in which members are adapted to a narrow and unusual non-typical
purpose. Here also great delicacy and accuracy is obtained, and the
contact or weight of a body inappreciable to the sense of touch of any
known higher animal may act as a stimulus. This refinement of re-
action in undifferentiated tissues is quite remarkable. As a further
instance it may be cited that leaves of certain seedlings are capable of
appreciating an intensity of light equal to .00033 of a standard candle.

SENSORY MECHANISM OF PLANTS. 175

Very naturally the first studies made in tliis subject attempted to
discover an arrangement in plants comparable to a simplified neuro-
Tiiuscular system of the animal. Expectations of this character were
of course bound to meet with signal disappointment ; a fact that should
have been apparent if the history and widely different purpose of the
animal and vegetal organism had been taken into consideration.
I'arallelisms between the reactions of plants and animals even to the
same class of stimulus are to be accepted with great caution. Thus it
has recently become apparent that the heliotropism of animals as in-
\estigated by Loeb is widely different from the heliotropism, or photo-
tropism, of plants both as to the features of light acting as stimuli in
the separate cases, and the general nature of the consequent reactions.

Eecent papers by Nemec on the transmission of impulses in plants,
and the discussions of geotropism and the organs of equilibrium of
plants by JN'oll, Czapek and Haberlandt have awakened much interest
in the mechanism of irrito-motility of plants.

ISTot fully appreciating the significance of the diffused and general-
ized forms of perception organs, much effort has been directed toward
fixing on specialized protoplastic tracts, with functions analogous to
nerves. The quest has not yet met with decided success in any single
instance. We have, however, arrived at the general conclusion that
the ectoplasmic layers of the protoplasts of peripheral cells function
as sensory organs, and that impulses are transmitted between the motor
and sensory zones by these layers and their interprotoplastic threads.
As to the nature of the impulse, one can only hazard a meaningless
guess that it may consist in a chain of chemical, catalytic or osmotic
disturbances.

Two noteworthy attempts have been made to ascribe the function
of transmission of impulses to specially differentiated structures. The
first was by Haberlandt who dealt with the transmission of impulses in

Fig. 4. Elongated Elements of Mimosa supposed by Haberlandt to transmit hy-
drostatic Impulses.

Mimosa, the common 'sensitive plant' of the tropics, cultivated in con-
servatories. An impulse set up at the tip of a pinnule of one of these
plants is conducted through petioles, stems and branches to a distance
of a meter at a rate varying from 6 to 31 mm. per second. A study of
the structure of the plant reveals the presence of a connected series of
long tube-like cells in the fibro-vascular bundles, usually turgid, and
containing relatively small protoplasts. It is argued that impulses take
the form of hydrostatic disturbances communicated through the system

176 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of tubes. This conclusion, however, disregards many well-known ad-
verse facts. Thus it is possible to secure the conduction of an impulse
through a section of stem, one or even two centimeters in length, which
has been killed by a steam jacket and allowed to desiccate. Then
again, when excised stems have been placed in connection with the
most powerful force pumps, or the action of the strongest osmotic solu-
tions, and artificial disturbances set up, no reactions were induced in
the pinnules, although great hydrostatic movements must have been ini-
tiated. The above mentioned hypothesis must be declared 'not proven,^
although it is a puzzling matter to attempt any suggestion of a method
by which transmission could be accomplished tl>rough 2 cm. of dead
tissues, and a meter of living tissue.

3..J:;

Fig. 5. Fibrillar Structures in Cells of Plerome of Root of Onion supposed hv
Nemec to transmit Impulses.

Nemec finds a somewhat regular coincidence of fibrillar structures
in the apical portions of roots, with the pathway which impulses should
travel in passing from the perceptive region to the motor zones. The
occurrence of these structures has been well known for some time, and
the theory of their function as special transmitting organs has something
in its favor, especially as these fibrillae have continuous intercellular
communications. No facts are at hand to suggest the presence of
these fibrillar organs in other members of the body.

The decentralized organization of the plant, the intimate and deli-
cate morphogenic and physiologic correlations existing among all its
members and its reflective system of irritability, make unnecessary, and
preclude, the differentiation of transmitting tracts, except in certain
narrowly specialized organs adapted to other than their typical vegetative
purposes. The most recent hypothesis as to the geotropic action of the

Fig. 6. Statolithic Action of Cells of Stelar Sheath containing Starch, by thk
Aid of which Equilibrium is supposed to be maintained.

plant is in accordance with these ideas. By this theory the maintenance
of equilibrium is made possible by the appreciation of gravity as the
result of the position of granules in sheath cells in every part of the
body, these cells acting as statoliths and sending impulses to the motor
zones of the organs in which they are found.

BECEPTION OF THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES/ 177

ON THE EECEPTION OF THE 'OEIGIN OF SPECIES.'*

By Professor HUXLEY.

TO the present generation, that is to say, the people a few years
on the hither and thither side of thirty, the name of Charles
Darwin stands alongside of those of Isaac Newton and Michael Fara-
day ; and, like them, calls up the grand ideal of a searcher after truth and
interpreter of Nature. They think of him who bore it as a rare com-
bination of genius, industry, and unswerving veracity, who earned his
place among the most famous men of the age by sheer native power, in
the teeth of a gale of popular prejudice, and uncheered by a sign of
favour or appreciation from the official fountains of honour ; as one who
in spite of an acute sensitiveness to praise and blame, and notwithstand-
ing provocations which might have excused any outbreak, kept himself
clear of all envy, hatred, and malice, nor dealt otherwise than fairly and
justly with the unfairness and injustice which was showered upon him;
while, to the end of his days, he was ready to listen with patience and
respect to the most insignificant of reasonable objectors.

And with respect to that theory of the origin of the forms of life
peopling our globe, with which Darwin's name is bound up as closely
as that of Newton with the theory of gravitation, nothing seems to be
further from the mind of the present generation than any attempt to

* In the last issue of The Popular Science Monthly the original an-
nouncement by Darwin and Wallace of the theory of organic evolution by
natural selection was reprinted from the 'Journal' of the Linnean Society for
1858. The 'Origin of Species' was published on November 24, 1859 ; its reception
by scientific men, by churchmen and by the general public forms one of the most
interesting chapters in the history of science. We reproduce part of the ac-
count of the matter contributed by Huxley to 'The Life and Letters of Darwin'
(1887), and extracts from the reviews published in 1860 in the 'Edinburgh Re-
view,' attributed to Richard Owen, and in 'The American Journal of Science' by
Louis Agassiz and Asa Gray. Regarding the Edinburgh reviewer Darwin

wrote to Hooker: "Some of my relations say it cannot possibly be 's

article, because the review speaks so very highly of . Poor dear simple

folk." To Gray he wrote regarding the review quoted below: 'Your review
seems to me admirable ; by far the best that I have read,' and again to Wallace
'Asa Gray fights like a hero in defence.' Huxley also says that Gray 'fought
the battle splendidly in the United States,' and ranks him with Hooker, Lub-
bock and himself. Gray's re\'iew in the 'American Journal' and his series of
articles in the 'Atlantic Monthly' seem at this time, however, rather colorless
and chiefly concerned in arguing that if evolution is true it does not conflict
with natural theology. — EDrroB.

VOL. i,x. — 12.

178 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

siinother it with ridicule or to crush it by vehemence of denunciation.
■^The struggle for existence/ and 'Natural selection/ have become house-
hold words and every-day conceptions. The reality and the importance
of the natural processes on which Darwin founds his deductions are no
more doubted than those of growth and multiplication; and, whether
the full potency attributed to them is admitted or not, no one doubts
their vast and far-reaching significance. Wherever the biological
sciences are studied, the 'Origin of Species' lights the paths of the inves-
tigator; wherever they are taught it permeates the course of instruction.
iSTor has the influence of Darwinian ideas been less profound, beyond
the realms of Biology. The oldest of all philosophies, that of Evolu-
tion, was bound hand and foot and cast into utter darkness during the
millennium of theological scholasticism. But Darwin poured new life-
blood into the ancient frame; the bonds burst, and the revivified
thought of ancient Greece has proved itself to be a more adequate ex-
pression of the universal order of things than any of the schemes which
have been accepted by the credulity and welcomed by the superstition of
seventy later generations of men.

To any one who studies the signs of the times, the emergence of the
philosophy of Evolution, in the attitude of claimant to the throne of
the world of thought, from the limbo of hated and, as many hoped,
forgotten things, is the most portentous event of the nineteenth cen-
tury. But the most effective weapons of the modern champions of Evo-
lution were fabricated by Darwin; and the 'Origin of Species' has en-
listed a formidable body of combatants, trained in the severe school of
Physical Science, whose ears might have long remained deaf to the
speculations of d priori philosophers. * * *

If I confine my retrospect of the reception of the 'Origin of Species'
to a twelvemonth, or thereabouts, from the time of its publication, I do
not recollect anything quite so foolish and unmannerly as the 'Quarterly
Review* article, unless, perhaps, the address of a Eeverend Professor to
the Dublin Geological Society might enter into competition with it. But
a large proportion of Mr. Darwin's critics had a lamentable resemblance
to the 'Quarterly' reviewer, in so far as they lacked either the will, or
the wit, to make themselves masters of his doctrine; hardly any pos-
sessed the knowledge required to follow him through the immense range
of biological and geological science which the 'Origin' covered; while,
too commonly, they had prejudiced the case on theological grounds, and,
as seems to be inevitable when this happens, eked out lack of reason by
superfluity of railing.

But it will be more pleasant and more profitable to consider those
criticisms, which were acknowledged by writers of scientific authority,
or which bore internal evidence of the greater or less competency and,
often, of the good faith, of their authors. Restricting my survey to a

BECEPTWy OF THE 'ORIGIN OF SPECIES/ 179

Iwelvemonth, or thereabouts, after the publication of the 'Origin/ I
find among such critics Louis Agassiz; Murray, an excellent entomolo-
gist; Harve}', a botanist of considerable repute; and the author of an
article in the 'Edinburgh Eeview/ all strongl}' adverse to Darwin.
Pictet, the distinguished and widely learned paleontologist of Geneva,
treats Mr. Darwin with a respect which forms a grateful contrast to the
tone of some of the preceding writers, but consents to go with him only
a very little way. On the other hand, Lyell, up to that time a pillar of
the anti-transmutationists (who regarded him, ever afterwards, as
Pallas Athene may have looked at Dian, after the Endymion affair),
declared himself a Darwinian, though not without putting in a serious
caveat. Nevertheless, he was a tower of strength, and his courageous
stand for truth as against consistency, did him infinite honour. As evo-
lutionists, sans phrase, I do not call to mind among the biologists more
than Asa Gray, who fought the battle splendidly in the United States;
Hooker, who was no less vigorous here; the present Sir John Lubbock
and myself.

DAEWIX ox THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.*

Such are the signs of defective information which contribute, almost
at each chapter, to check our confidence in the teachings and advocacy
of the hypothesis of 'Natural Selection.' But, as we have before been
led to remark, most of Mr. Darwin's statements elude, by their vague-
ness and incompleteness, the test of Natural History facts. Thus he
says : —

'I think it highly probable that our domestic dogs have descended
from several wild species.' It may be so ; but what are the species here
referred to ? Are they known, or named, or can they be defined ? If so,
why are they not indicated, so that the naturalist might have some
means of Judging of the degree of probability, or value of the surmise,
and of its bearing on the hypothesis?

'Isolation, also,' says Mr. Darwin, 'is an important element in the
process of natural selection.' But how can one select if a thing be
'isolated'? Even using the word in the sense of a confined area, Mr.
Darwin admits that the conditions of life 'throughout such area, will
tend to modify all the individuals of a species in the same manner, in
relation to the same conditions.' (P. 104.)

No evidence, however, is given of a species having ever been created
in that way; but granting the h}^othetical influence and transmuta-
tion, there is no selection here. The author adds, 'Although I do not
doubt that isolation is of considerable importance in the production
of new species, on the whole, I am inclined to believe, that largeness

* From an article in the 'Edinburgh Review' for April, 1860, attributed to
Richard Owen.

i8o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of area is of more importance in the production of species capable of
spreading widely. (P. 105.)

jSTow, on such a question as the origin of species, and in an express,
formal, scientiiic treatise on the subject, the expression of a belief,
where one looks for a demonstration, is simply provoking. We are
not concerned in the author's beliefs or inclinations to believe. Belief
is a state of mind short of actual knowledge. It is a state which may
govern action, when based upon a tacit admission of the mind's incom-
petency to prove a proposition, coupled with submissive acceptance of
an authoritative dogma, or worship of a favorite idol of the mind. We
readily concede, and it needs, indeed, no ghost to reveal the fact,
that the wider the area in which a species may be produced, the more
widely it will spread. But we fail to discern its import in respect
of the great question at issue.

We have read and studied with care most of the monographs con-
veying the results of close investigations of particular groups of ani-
mals, but have not found, what Darwin asserts to be the fact, at least
as regards all those investigators of particular groups of animals and
plants whose treatises he has read, viz., that their authors 'are one and
all firmly convinced that each of the well-marked forms or species was
at the first independently created.' Our experience has been that the
monographers referred to have rarely committed themselves to any
conjectural hypothesis whatever, upon the origin of the species which
they have closely studied.

Darwin appeals from the 'experienced naturalists whose minds are
stocked with a multitude of facts' which he assumes to have been
'viewed from a point of view opposite to his own,' to the 'few naturalists
endowed with much flexibility of mind,' for a favourable reception of
his hypothesis. We must confess that the minds to whose conclusions
we incline to bow belong to that truth-loving, truth- seeking, truth-
imparting class, which Eobert Brown, Bojanus, Eudolphi, Cuvier,
Ehrenberg, Herold, Kolliker, and Siebold, worthily exemplify. The
rightly and sagaciously generalizing intellect is associated with the
power of endurance of continuous and laborious research, exemplarily
manifested in such monographs as we have quoted below. Their
authors are the men who trouble the intellectual world little with their
beliefs, but enrich it greatly with their proofs. If close and long-con-
tinued research, sustained by the determination to get accurate results,
blunted, as Mr. Darwin seems to imply, the far-seeing discovering
faculty, then are we driven to this paradox, viz., that the elucidation of
the higher problems, nay the highest, in Biology, is to be sought for or
expected in the lucubrations of those naturalists whose minds are not
weighted or troubled with more than a discursive and superficial
knowledge of nature.

RECEPTION OF THE 'ORIGIN OF SPECIES/ i8i

PROFESSOR AGASSIZ ON THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.*

Since the arguments presented by Darwin in favor of a universal
derivation from one primary form, of all the peculiarities existing now
among living beings have not made the slightest impression on my
mind, nor modified in any way the views I have already propounded, I
may fairly refer the reader to the paragraphs alluded to above as con-
taining sufficient evidence of their correctness, and I will here only
add a single argument, which seems to leave the question where I have
placed it.

It seems to me that there is much confusion of ideas in the general
statement of the variability of species so often repeated lately. If
species do not exist at all, as the supporters of the transmutation
theory maintain, how can they vary? and if individuals alone exist,
how can the differences which may be observed among them prove the
variability of species? The fact seems to me to be that while species
are based upon definite relations among individuals which differ in
various ways among themselves, each individual, as a distinct being,
has a definite course to run from the time of its first formation to the
end of its existence, during which it never loses its identity nor
changes its individuality, nor its relations to other individuals belong-
ing to the same species, but preserves all the categories of relationship
which constitute specific or generic or family affinity, or any other kind
or degree of affinity. To prove that species vary it should be proved
that individuals horn from common ancestors change the different
categories of relationship ivhich they bore primitively to one another.
While all that has thus far been shown is, that there exists a con-
siderable difference among individuals of one and the same species.
This may be new to those who have looked upon every individual
picked up at random, as affording the means of describing satisfactorily
any species; but no naturalist who has studied carefully any of the
species now best known, can have failed to perceive that it requires
extensive series of specimens accurately to describe a species, and that
the more complete such series are, the more precise appear the limits
which separate species. Surely the aim of science cannot be to furnish
amateur zoologists or collectors a recipe for a ready identification of
any chance specimen that may fall into their hands. And the diffi-
culties with which we may meet in attempting to characterize species
do not afford the first indication that species do not exist at all, as long
as most of them can be distinguished, as such, almost at first sight.
I foresee that some convert to the transmutation creed will at once
object that the facility with which species may be distinguished is no
evidence that they were not derived from other species. It may be so.

* From a review in 'The American Journal of Science and Arts,' July, 1860.

i82 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

But as long as no fact is adduced to show that any one well-known
species among the many thousands that are buried in the whole series of
fossiliferous rocks, is actually the parent of any one of the species now
living, such arguments can have no weight; and thus far the supporters
of the transmutation theory have failed to produce any such facts. In-
stead of facts we are treated with marvelous bear, cuckoo, and other
stories. Credat Judaeus Apella !

Had Mr. Darwin or his followers furnished a single fact to show
that individuals change, in the course of time, in such a manner as to
produce at last species different from those known before, the state of the
case might be different. But it stands recorded now as before, that the
animals known to the ancients are still in existence, exhibiting to this
day the characters they exhibited of old. The geological record, even
with all its imperfections, exaggerated to distortion, tells now, what
it has told from the beginning, that the supposed intermediate forms
between the species of different geological periods are imaginary
beings, called up merely in support of a fanciful theory. The origin
of all the diversity among living beings remains a mystery as totally
unexplained as if the book of Mr. Darwin had never been written, for
no theory unsupported by fact, however plausible it may appear, can be
admitted in science.

It seems generally admitted that the work of Darwin is particu-
larly remarkable for the fairness with which he presents the facts ad-
verse to his views. It may be so ; but I confess that it has made a very
different impression upon me. I have been more forcibly struck by his
inability to perceive when the facts are fatal to his argument, than
by anything else in the whole work. His chapter on the Geological
Eecord, in particular, appears to me, from beginning to end, as a series
of illogical deductions and misrepresentations of the modem results of
Geology and Palaeontology. I do not intend to argue here, one by one,
the questions he has discussed. Such arguments end too often in
special pleading, and any one familiar with the subject may readily
perceive where the truth lies by confronting his assertions with the
geological record itself. But since the question at issue is chiefly to be
settled by pal^ontological evidence, and I have devoted the greater part
of my life to the special study of the fossils, I wish to record my protest
against his mode of treating this part of the subject. Not only docs
Darwin never perceive when the facts are fatal to his views, but when
he has succeeded by an ingenious circumlocution in overleaping the
facts, he would have us believe that he has lessened their importance or
changed their meaning.

RECEPTION OF THE 'ORIGIN OF SPECIES/ 183
REVIEW OF Darwin's theory on the origin of species by means

OF NATURAL SELECTION.
By ASA GRAY.*

We are thus, at last, brought to the question ; what would happen if
the derivation of species were to be substantiated, either as a true phys-
ical theory, or as a sufficient hypothesis ? What would come of it ? The
enquiry is a pertinent one, just now. For, of those who agree with us
in thinking that Darwin has not established his theory of derivation,
many will admit with us that he has rendered a theory of derivation
much less improbable than before; that such a theory chimes in with
the established doctrines of physical science, and is not unlikely to
be largely accepted long before it can be proved. Moreover, the vari-
ous notions that prevail, — equally among the most and the least re-
ligious,— as to the relations between natural agencies or phenomena and
Efficient Cause, are seemingly more crude, obscure, and discordant than
they need be.

It is not surprising that the doctrine of the book should be de-
nounced as atheistical. What does surprise and concern us is, that it
should be so denounced by a scientific man, on the broad assumption
that a material connection between the members of a series of organized
beings is inconsistent with the idea of their being intellectually con-
nected with one another through the Deity, i. e., as products of one
mind, as indicating and realizing a preconceived plan. An assumption
the rebound of which is somewhat fearful to contemplate, but fortu-
nately one which every natural birth protests against. * * *

We wished under the light of such views, to examine more critically
the doctrine of this book, especially of some questionable parts ; — for in-
stance, its explanation of the natural development of organs, and its
implication of a "^necessary acquirement of mental power" in the
ascending scale of gradation. But there is room only for the general
declaration that we cannot think the Cosmos a series which began with
chaos and ends with mind, or of which mind is a result; that if by
the successive origination of species and organs through natural agen-
cies, the author means a series of events which succeed each other
irrespective of a continued directing intelligence, — events which mind
does not order and shape to destined ends, — then he has not established
that doctrine, nor advanced towards its establishment, but has accumu-
lated improbabilities beyond all belief. Take the formation and the
origination of the successive degrees of complexity of eyes as a speci-
men. The treatment of this subject (pp. 188, 189), upon one inter-
pretation is open to all the objections referred to; but if, on the other

* From a review in 'The American Journal of Science and Arts,' MarcTi,
1860.

i84 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

liand, we may rightly compare the eye "to a telescope, perfected by the
long continued efforts of the highest human intellects/' we could carry
out the analogy, and draw satisfactory illustrations and inferences
from it. The essential, the directly intellectual thing is the making of
the improvements in the telescope or the steam-engine. Whether the
successive improvements, being small at each step, and consistent with
the general type of the instrument, are applied to some of the in-
dividual machines, or entire new machines are constructed for each, is
a minor matter. Though if machines could engender, the adaptive
method would be most economical; and economy is said to be a para-
mount law in nature. The origination of the improvements, and the
successive adaptations to meet new conditions or subserve other ends,
are what answer to the supernatural, and therefore remain inexplicable.
As to bringing them into use, though wisdom foresees the result, the
circumstances and the natural competition will take care of that, in
the long run. The old ones will go out of use fast enough, except
where an old and simple machine remains still best adapted to a par-
ticular purpose or condition, — as, for instance, the old Newcomen engine
for pumping out coal-pits. If there's a Divinity that shapes these
ends, the whole is intelligible and reasonable; otherwise, not.

We regret that the necessity of discussing philosophical questions
has prevented a fuller examination of the theory itself, and of the in-
teresting scientific points which are brought to bear in its favor. One
of its neatest points, certainly a very strong one for the local origina-
tion of species, and their gradual diffusion under natural agencies, we
must reserve for some other convenient opportunity.

The work is a scientific one, rigidly restricted to its direct object;
and by its science it must stand or fall. Its aim is, probably not to
deny creative intervention in nature, — for the admission of the inde-
pendent origination of certain types does away with all antecedent im-
probability of as much intervention as may be required, — but to main-
tain that Natural Selection in explaining the facts, explains also
many classes of facts which thousand-fold repeated independent acts of
creation do not explain, but leave more mysterious than ever. How far
the author has succeeded, the scientific world will in due time be able to
pronounce.

SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE.

185

SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE.

THE AGRICULTURAL YEARBOOK.
The Yearbook of the United States
Department of Agriculture has taken
rank as one of the important annuals of
this country, and in point of circulation
is hardly equaled. This is due to the
munificence of the Federal Government
iti appropriating $300,000 annually for
its publication, in an edition of half
a million copies, and to the care which
is given by the Department of Agri-
culture to the preparation of timely
and interesting articles and appropriate
illustrations. The Yearbook takes the
place of the annual report of the Secre-
tary, which was naturally a more
formal document and less likely to at-
tract the average reader's attention.
In its present form it presents an at-
tractive appearance, and its many illus-
trations and long list of short articles
on a variety of subjects invite atten-
tion. The volume for 1900 comprises
nearly nine hundred pages, and is illus-
trated by eighty-seven plates, nine of
them colored, and eighty-eight text fig-
ures. In addition to the executive re-
ports, which occupy less than eighty
pages, it contains thirty-one articles on
various phases of the Department's
work or other subjects of direct inter-
est to agriculture. Only a part of
these can be mentioned, but enough to
indicate the range of subjects and that
the volume is not alone of interest and
value to the farmers of the country.
In an article on Smyrna fig culture in
the United States, Dr. Howard de-
scribes the successful introduction by
the Department of the Blastophaga, the
insect which fertilizes the fig and has
enabled the production of Smyrna figs
of good quality in this country; and
one on the date palm tells what has
been done for the promotion of that in-
dustry by the introduction of the best

I varieties into Arizona, where it flour-
ishes even in soils heavily impregnated
with alkali. Wheat growing in the
semi-arid districts has been rendered
less uncertain, it is thought, by the
introduction of macaroni and several
other varieties of wheat, which have
already given promise. Articles on the
food of nestling birds and how birds
aff"eet the orchard illustrate the prac-
tical bearings of a phase of work which
is concerned with the food habits of
birds under different conditions, to
ascertain what kinds are beneficial and
V/'hat injurious to the farmer and fruit
grower; while one on tjve food value of
the potato gives some practical results
of the work of the Department in
another direction. There are two arti-
cles on practical forestry and forest
extension, several on injurious insects
and their repression, a helpful one on
practical irrigation, two on road build-
ing, in which subject the Department
is taking an active interest, and two
on meteorology. One of the latter, on
hot waves, the conditions which pro-
duce them and their eff"ects on agricul-
ture, is of special interest even though
it does not suggest any relief. The free
rural delivery of mails, although in no
way connected with the Department of
Agriculture, comes so close to its far-
mer constituents that an account of the
working of that system does not seem
out of place in its Yearbook. The four
thousand routes now in operation pro-
vide for the daily delivery of mail at
the scattered homes of about three and
a half million of rural population. The
work done in a long life devoted to
agriculture, horticulture and kindred
subjects by the late William Saunders,
who had been connected with the De-
partment since its establishment in
1SG2, is the subject of a short sketch,

i86

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and his portrait occupies the place of
honor as the frontispiece to the volume.
An appendix of over 200 pages contains
a vast amount of condensed informa-
tion on a variety of subjects, and bears
out the inference that no effort has
been spared to make this, like the pre-
ceding volumes, worthy of the large
expenditure involved and the wide dis-
tribution it is given.

METEOROLOGY.
A WELL-ARRANGED, readable and gen-
erally satisfactory presentation of the
principles of meteorology may be found
in the latest text-book on that subject,
Bornstein's Leitfaden der Wetter-
kunde. The general plan of the book
is conventional, but there are one or
two features which deserve special men-
tion. In the introduction an interest-
ing figure shows the 'thermo-isopleths'
for Berlin, these lines indicating, in
one drawing, both the diurnal and the
annual march of the air temperature.
In the chapter on temperature all im-
portant matters are considered, includ-
ing the recent work of Pettersson and
Meinardus on long-range forecasts for
Europe based on the special character-
istics of the Gulf Stream, and a brief
summary of the meteorological results
of the international balloon ascents, in
some of which the author took part.
The physiological effects of atmospheric
humidity receive some consideration,
and a new table is given showing, for a
number of stations, the probable fall
of temperature below the wet-bulb read-
ing of an afternoon hour, to be expected
during the night. This table is useful
in predicting frost. The much-agitated
question of hail prevention by cannon
firing is briefly taken up in the sections
on rainfall. The chapter on weather
is very complete. Thunderstorm charts
and theories; the weather types of van
Bebber and Koppen, and the weather
services of the world, are all discussed,
the weather types being fully illus-

trated. A noteworthy feature of the
work is the nine colored views of cloud
types, similar to those in the Interna-
tional Cloud Atlas. This is the first
text-book to have such elaborate illus-
trations of clouds. A fairly good work-
ing bibliography is appended, which in-
cludes comparatively few works in
English. The index is good, but the
chapters are not numbered, and there
are no section headings in the text.

PSYCHOLOGY.
'An Introduction to Psychology,' by
Mary Whiton Calkins (The Macmillan
Company), is one of the text-books
in psychology that makes it obvious
that psychology is to a great ex-
tent all things to all men. The books
do not present the same body of ac-
cepted truth, varying only in such mat-
ters as arrangement and adaptation to
students of different capacities and dif-
ferent practical needs. Changing your
psychology book is not so much chang-
ing your coat as changing your skin.
Miss Calkins, for instance, includes the
study of 'the conscious relation of the
human self to a divine self as a sample
of certain mysterious relationships be-
tween selves apart from those due to
physical agencies. She includes a sym-
pathetic discussion of the phenomena of
telepathy and veridical hallucinations.
Many of her co-workers would rigor-
ously exclude both these topics. She
makes no mention of the instructive
reactions which are the fons et origo of
our later intellects and wills or of the
law of habit which would seem to many
to be the key to comprehension of men-
tal processes. Yet Miss Calkins's book
is as scholarly and fair an exposition
of the elements of psychology as any of
the recent books. Those who seek from
psychology training in analysis and dis-
crimination and approach the study
from an interest in general philosophy
will find it a particularly helpful
manual.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

187

THE PEOGEESS OF SCIENCE.

PROFESSOR RUDOLF VIRCHOW.

The eightieth birthday of one of the
leaders of modern civilization has been
celebrated with imposing ceremonies
at Berlin. Virehow is the founder of
the science of pathology, and his serv-
ices for anthropology have been nearly
as great. He has not only demonstrated
that the scientific research of the labo-
ratory may be directly beneficial to
mankind, but he has himself applied his
own discoveries for the welfare of Ber-
lin and of the German army, whence
they have extended to the whole world.
Tliere is no city whose inhabitants are
not healthier and happier because Vir-
ehow has lived and worked; it is indeed
scarcely an exaggeration to say that
there is no patient of any village phy-
sician who does not benefit from the
labors of this man whose name he may
never have heard. Virehow often stood
opposed to Bismarck; in written his-
tory the iron chancellor may always be
the more frequently named, but the
world's progress has probably been
more directly led by the man of
science.

The ceremonies at Berlin included
the presentation of a marble bust of
Virehow to the great Pathological In-
stitute founded by him; the presenta-
tion of an additional endo\vment to the
Virehow Fund for the promotion of re-
search, toward which the municipality
contributed $20,000; the presentation
of addresses of congratulation on behalf
of the empire, state and municipality,
and from national and foreign institu-
tions, and, most interesting of all, a
lecture by Virehow on the history and
scope of pathology. Lord Lister, who
represented the Royal Society and other
British institutions, said: "All these
bodies join in recognition of your

gigantic intellectual powers, in grati-
tude for the great benefits that you
have conferred upon humanity, and in
admiration of your personal character,
your absolute uprightness, the courage
which has enabled you always to advo-
cate what you believed to be the cause
of truth, liberty and justice, and the
genial nature which has won for you
the love of all who know you. The
astonishing vigor which you displayed
in the address to which we listened to-
day justifies the hope that, when many
of us your juniors shall have been re-
moved from this scene of labor, it may
be granted to you to celebrate your
ninetieth birthday not only in health
and honor but in continued activity in
the service of mankind."

THE YALE BICENTENyiAL EXER-
CISES.
Universities are among the most
stable of institutions. Glasgow Uni-
versity recently celebrated its ninth
jubilee, while Harvard University com-
memorated in 1886 the two hundred
and fiftieth anniversary of its founda-
tion. Yale University, the third in age
of our American colleges, is now two
hundred years old and the event has
been celebrated in a manner commen-
surate with the prestige of the insti-
tution. Such occasions are almost
medieval in their gowned processions,
the presentation of Latin addresses, the
conferring of degrees and the like; but
they are nearly as modern as football
games, in so far as they serve as an
occasion of collecting endowments,
attracting students and arousing the
loyalty of alumni. Both in its dra-
matic exhibition and in its financial
outcome the celebration at New Haven
was eminently successful. There were

i88

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

pi'esent thousands of graduates and
guests for whom a program lasting
four days had been prepared. It in-
cluded sermons, addresses, concerts,
dedications and other exercises, leading
to the commemorative exercises and the
conferring of honorary degrees. The
doctorate of laws was conferred on
President Roosevelt and forty-six
others, including among scientific men
t^. S. Billings, director of the New York
Public Library ; S. P. Langley, secretary
of the Smithsonian Institution; A. A.
Michelson, professor of physics in the
University of Chicago; William Osier,
professor of medicine in the Johns Hop-
kins Medical School; Henry Smith
Pritchett, president of the Massachu-
setts Institute of Technology; Ira
Remsen, president of the Johns Hop-
kins University; Ogden Nicholas Rood,
professor of physics in Columbia Uni-
versity, and Wilhelm Waldeyer, pro-
fessor of anatomy in the University of
Berlin.

About half of those who have become
eminent for public services are college
graduates, and Yale has certainly
contributed its full share. The ad-
dresses by ex- President Oilman on
Yale's Relation to Letters and Science,
and by Professor Welch on Yale's Re-
lation to Medicine, told of the im-
portant part taken by Yale's grad-
uates in the scientific work of the
country. Through the influence of the
elder Silliman and the 'American Jour-
nal of Science,' established by him in
1818, and through the Sheffield Scien-
tific School, Yale has always led in the
sciences. Its faculty has included the
two Sillimans, Olmsted, Loomis, Dana,
Newton and Marsh, and among its
alumni are many of those who have ad-
vanced science, including two of our
leading inventors, Whitney and Morse.
In education Yale has had great in-
fluence through the college presidents it
has trained. As President Northrop
pointed out in his address, one hundred
and five graduates of Yale have been
president of a college; and eighty-five

different colleges have at some time had
a Yale graduate for president. Yale
furnished the first president of at least
seventeen colleges — Princeton, Colum-
bia, Dartmouth, Georgia, Williams,
Hamilton, Kenyon, Illinois, Wabash,
Missouri, Wisconsin, Beloit, California,
Cornell, Western Reserve, Johns Hop-
kins and Chicago.

AOr^-S' FROM THE BERLIN MEET-
ING OF THE INTERNATIONAL
ZOOLOGICAL CONGRESS.

The fifth meeting of the Interna-
tional Zoological Congress, which
opened at Berlin on August 13, was
attended by a very large number of
zoologists and carried out an elaborate
program in the course of which many
highly interesting papers were read.
The general sessions of the Congress
were occupied by a series of addresses
on general topics, among which may be
mentioned those of Professor Yves De-
lage, of Paris on the fertilization of the
egg, of Professor Grassi of Rome on the
malaria organism, of Professor Poulton
of Oxford on mimicry in insects, and
the fine closing address on vitalism
and mechanism by Professor Biitschli
of Heidelberg. The number of de-
tailed papers read in the various sec-
tions is too great to allow of their re-
view here, but attention may be called
to the interesting discussion on vital-
ism and mechanism that took place in
the opening session of the section for
experimental biology. The modern re-
vival of interest in this time-honored
problem, which occupied so large a
field of discussion a half-century ago,
has been largely due to the surprising
results attained by experimental em-
bryology during the last decade, espe-
cially those brought forward by Roux,
Driesch and their many followers.
The discussion at Berlin was opened by
Driesch himself in a paper entitled
'Two New Proofs of Vitalism,' a title
which indicates his own position on the
general problem. Presenting in brief

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

189

form the essential arguments that he
had already put forward in more ex-
tended papers on the development of
fractional parts of the egg and on the
general problem of the localization of
morpliogenic processes, Driesch main-
tained that these processes have no
true analogue in the inorganic world,
are insoluble by any purely mechanical
or physico-chemical hypothesis, and
hence form a problem sui generis. The
most characteristic operations of the
living organism, more especially those
concerned in the processes of regenera-
tion, regiilation and the like, fail of
adequate interpretation on the so-called
'machine-theory' of life, and must be
regarded from a vitalistic as opposed to
a mechanistic standpoint. His con-
clusions, which were stated with great
lucidity and force, met with strong
opposition in the animated controversy
that followed, in which a number of
eminent embryologists participated.
Some of these speakers wholly denied
the validity of Driescli's reasoning and
endeavored to show that true analogues
to regulative phenomena occur in
purely physical processes. Others,
notably Professor Roux, took more
cautious ground, maintaining that de-
spite our present inability to explain
or even to conceive the nature of some
of the most striking and characteristic
phenomena of development, we are by
no means justified in taking refuge be-
hind such a word as 'vitalism,' which
carries with it so many misleading
connotations from the earlier period
when it was employed in connection
with the. exploded hypothesis of a
specific '\ital force.'

The masterly and scholarly address
of Professor Biitschli, delivered before
the general session, contained not only
a specific examination of the main facts
in which Drieseh's position rests, but
also a critical study of more abstract
conceptions, such as those embodied in
the words 'mechanism,' 'causality' and
the like, which are inevitably involved
in the discussion of the subject. This

address, whicli has been published in
pamphlet form by Engelmann of Leip-
zig under the title Mechanism and
Vitalism is worthy of attentive study,
not only by students of zoology, but
also by all who are interested in the
more general aspects of scientific prog-
ress. Recognizing the difficulties that
the mechanistic interpretation of
organic nature has to encounter,
Biitschli nevertheless expresses the
judgment that, in the broad sense of
the phrase, it is the only one under
which scientific investigation is pos-
sible, and that it is, to say the least,
wholly premature to speak of 'proofs
01 vitalism.' "The phenomena involved
in the localization process seem to me
not to differ fundamentally in kind
from those occurring in the inorganic
world." The acceptance of \italistic
hypothesis constitutes a backward step
in scientific method. "Both the old
and the new vitalism have done no
more than to emphasize the unsolved
riddles that confront us and to throw
doubt on the possibility of their ex-
planation on a mechanistic basis. The
assumption of vitalistic processes in-
volves the admission that they are ulti-
mate phenomena, in themselves inex-
plicable, that we are not able to sub-
sume imder general laws. Hence we
must take the ground that in vital
phenomena we can comprehend only
that which may receive a physico-
chemical explanation." How far the
mechanistic hypothesis will succeed in
the explanation of vital phenomena,
only the future will show. 'By their
fruits ye shall know them.'

In considering the possibility of a
mechanistic explanation of the pur-
posive or teleological aspect of living
organisms Biitschli recognizes Dar-
win's theory of natural selection as the
sole fruitful attempt in this direction.
In view of the difficulties that have
been urged against that theory, and
especially the drastic criticism it has
received at the hands of some German
writers, it is interesting to find that

190

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

so competent and critical an authority
as Biitschli accepts Dar'wan's explana-
tion, as amplified by later workers, not
only as a possible one, but also as the
most probable one thus far advanced.

THE EFFECT OF SECULAR COOL-
ING AND METEORIC DUST ON

THE LENGTH OF THE DAY.
It is well known that the day, or in-
terval required for one complete rota-
tion of the earth, is the time unit by
M^hich the succession of terrestrial and
celestial events is measured. The earth
revolves with a regularity which far
surpasses that of the best clocks and
chronometers except for short intervals
of time, such as a few minutes, or a
few hours at most. But it is not cer-
tain that the day has been of the same
length in the remote past as at present,
or that it will remain of the same
length in the distant future. It is
therefore a matter of prime impor-
tance, especially in those branches of
astronomy which deal with long inter-
vals of time, to understand the effects
of such secular causes as may tend to
modify the length of the day. In a re-
cent number of the 'Astronomical Jour-
nal' Professor R. S. Woodward has pub-
lished a mathematical investigation of
the effects of secular cooling and of
accumulations of meteoric dust. The
cooling, and consequent cubical contrac-
tion, of the earth tends to shorten the
day; while the increment to the earth's
mass from meteorites, of which not less
than twenty millions daily fall into the
atmosphere, tends to lengthen the day.
The effect of secular cooling was
considered to a limited extent by La-
place in his 'Mecanique celeste.' As-
suming that the earth is in the last
stages of cooling he reached the con-
clusion that the length of the day has
not changed appreciably in the past
two thousand years. Without making
any assumption as to the present stage
in the history of cooling, Woodward
shows that during no interval so short
as twenty centuries in the entire his-

tory of cooling can the length of the
day change by so much as a thousandth
of a second from the cause in question.
In fact, so slowly does the effect of
secular cooling accumulate that the
day will not change, or has not
changed, as the case may be, by so
much as a half second in the first ten
million years after the earth began to
solidify and to lose heat by conduction
through its crust. On the other hand,
the shortening of the day which must
come with the end of the process of
cooling is a very sensible fraction of
its present length. For this total effect
Woodward gives a remarkably simple
expression, namely: the ratio of the
change in length of the day to its
initial length is equal to two-thirds of
tlie product of the fall in temperature
of the earth by its cubical contraction.
Supposing the earth to have been
initially at a temperature of 3000°C.,
and that its cubical contraction is the
same as that of iron, or about 3x10—^,
it follows that the day will be ulti-
mately shortened by about six per cent,
of its initial length, or by an hour and
a half nearly. Tlie length of time re-
quired by the earth to cool down sen-
sibly to the temperature of surrounding
space is very great. Nothing short of
a million years is suitable as a time
unit for measuring the historical prog-
ress of such events. Thus Woodward
shows that it will require about three
hundred thousand million years for the
earth to accomplish ninety-five per
cent, of its contraction, and that after
a million million years its contraction
would no longer sensibly affect the
length of the day.

To what extent is this shortening of
the day due to contraction offset by
the lengthening due to accessions of
meteoric dust? The calculation shows
tbat the accumulation of such dust goes
on so slowly that its effect will not be-
come perceptible imtil the total effect
from secular cooling is nearly complete.
In round numbers, the latter effect
goes on two hundred thousand times as

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

191

fast as tlie opposite effect from mete-
oric dust. In fact, if the average mass
of meteorites is no greater than one
gram, it will require a million million
years, at the present rate of influx, to
lengthen the day by so much as a quar-
ter of a second.

It is clear, therefore, that, if the
regularity of the earth as a timekeeper
during historic times is to be ques-
tioned, one must look to other causes
than secular cooling and meteoric dust.

ENGLAND'S CHEMICAL INDUSTRY.

There has been much agitation in
England during the last few years over
the fact that Germany is steadily forg-
ing ahead in all lines of chemical in-
dustry. As long ago as 1886, Professor
Mendola, in a paper read before the
Society of Arts, reviewed the English
color industry, and sounded a warning
note regarding its future progress.
English manufacturers have, however,
manfully stood by their old methods,
and are seeing their trade gradually,
but surely slipping from their grasp.

At the Glasgow meeting of the Brit-
ish Association, Arthur C. Green, who
is well qualified to speak on the sub-
ject, read a paper on the relative prog-
ress of the coal-tar industry in Eng-
land and Germany during the last
fifteen years, in which he handles the
matter \\ith almost brutal frankness.
After sketching the wonderful advance-
ment which has been made in the de-
velopment of the industry during the
period covered by his paper, the dis-
covery of thousands of new dyestuffs,
the introduction of hundreds of new
synthetic pharmaceutical products and
the great advances in the production
and design of chemical plant, occa-
sioned by the vast requirements of the
industry, he brings out the comparative
statistics of the industry in the two
countries. Among them the following
are worthy of reproduction. The ex-
ports of coal-tar colors, exclusive of
alizarin, from Germany have increased
from 4,646 tons in 1885 to 17,639 tons

in 1899; those of anilin oil and salt
from 1,713 tons in 1885 to 7,135 in
1895, and of alizarin colors from 4,284
to 8,927 tons in the same period. The
values of the coal-tar colors exported
increased from 2,600,000 pounds ster-
ling in 1894 to 3,500,000 pounds in
1898. In fifteen years the imports of
coal-tar dyestuffs into England have
increased fifty per cent., while the ex-
ports from England have decreased over
thirty per cent. The Bradford Dyers'
Association uses at present 80% Ger-
man coloring-matters and only 10%
English. The British Cotton and Wool
Dyers' Association imports 78 % of its
anilin colors and over 98% of its
alizarin colors. Tlie English Sewing
Cotton Company used, out of a total
of sixty tons of coloring-matters, only
0 % of English manufacture. In addi-
tion to this, the indigo industry, which
now yields to India an income of three
million pounds sterling a year, is seri-
ously threatened by the synthetic
indigo from Germany, and its days
are in all probability numbered.

The cause of this state of affairs Mr.
Green finds in the almost utter inap-
preciation of science on the part of the
English Government, manufacturers
and people. As he says, 'it is not so
much the education of our chemists
which is at fault as the scientific edu-
cation of the public as a whole.'

This theme has more than an indi-
rect bearing upon American industries.
We are just beginning to reap the har-
vest which awaits us in the application
of scientific principles to our indus-
tries. Until recently we have been fol-
lowing the English 'rule o' thumb'
method, but along many lines there has
now been a radical change, and in
these England is finding her commer-
cial supremacy threatened from this
side of the water. There are yet enor-
mous fields for us to conquer, in which
we have a great advantage over Ger-
many in the natural resources of the
country. Tlie enormous industrial
strides which this country is taking,

192

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

which command the admiration as well
as the fear of the world, are after all
the fruitage of the ideas which the
teachers of science in our colleges and
technological schools have been pound-
ing into the often unwilling brains of
their students during the last quarter
of a century.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS.

Db. Richmond Mayo-Smith, pro-
fessor of political economy and social
science at Columbia University died as
the result of a fall on November 11. — A
memorial meeting in honor of the late
Henry Augustus Rowland was held at
the Johns Hopkins University, on Oc-
tober 16. The principal address was
made by Dr. T. C. Mendenhall.

The Rumford medals of the Ameri-
can Academy of Arts and Sciences have
been presented to Professors Carl Barus
and Elihu Thomson. — Professor Geo.
J. Brush, emeritus professor of min-
eralogy and formerly director of the
Sheffield Scientific School of Yale Uni-
versity, received a loving cup from his
former students, on the occasion of the
recent bicentennial exercises.

The second annual Huxley lecture of
the Anthropological Institute was de-
livered by Dr. Francis Galton, F.R.S.,

on October 29, his subject being 'Tlie
Possible Improvement of the Human
Breed under the Existing Conditions of
Law and Sentiment.'

Professor Hcgo Munsterberg, of
Harvard University, began, on Novem-
ber 11, a series of eight Lowell lectures
at the Massachusetts Institute of Tech-
nology, on 'The Results of Experi-
mental Psychology.'

Mr. Andrew Carnegie has given an
additional million dollars towards the
endowment of the Carnegie Institute,
Pittsburg, and a second million dollars
for the Polytechnic Institute to be
established in that city. — Mr. T. Jeffer-
son Coolidge, late Minister to France,
has given a fund of $50,000 to the Jef-
ferson Physical Laboratory of Harvard
University for physical research. — ^Mr.
John D. Rockefeller has promised to
contribute $200,000 toward the endow-
ment fund for Barnard College, Colum-
bia University, provided that an equal
sum is given by others before January
1, 1902. — The preliminary plans have
been accepted for a new building for the
Department of Agriculture at Wash-
ington. These plans contemplate a
marble structure, something over 300
feet long, with wings at either end ex-
tending to the rear to accommodate the
various laboratories of the department.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

JANUARY, 1902.

THE MINNESOTA SEASIDE STATION.

By Professor CONWAY MACMILLAN,

UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA.

TTTHEN, in 1900, a tract of land on the Straits of Fuca was offered
' ^ for the uses of a marine station to be operated in connection
with the University of Minnesota, the transfer was made and the con-
struction of a laboratory-camp begun. Previous and full information
concerning the site had been received. It had been personally examined
by a member of the University staff and had been highly commended.
Being at the entrance of the Straits it was easily accessible to the Sound
and to the open sea, while its littoral fauna and flora were known to be
uncommonly interesting and rich both in species and individuals. One
difficulty existed : there was no road from Port Renfrew to the labora-
tory site — a distance of about three miles. Consequently the whole
matter was laid before the British Columbian Parliament then in
session at Victoria, and through the assistance of the honorable mem-
bers from the districts of Esquimalt and San Juan, with the approval
of H. M. Commissioner of Works, a grant was obtained for a suitable
road, work upon which was in progress during the summer of 1901.

In the initial movements incident to the establishment of the Station
many Victorians were both interested and effective. From Sir Henri
Joly de Lotbiniere, Lieutenant-Governor of the Province, to the hum-
blest citizen there was received onlv the most uniform and delisrhtful
courtesy. To acknowledge so many kindnesses is indeed a pleasure, and
to the members of the Government and of the Natural History Society
of Victoria, and to all others who were of assistance sincere apprecia-
Mon and thanks are due.

VOL. LX. — 13.

194

POrULAIi SCIENCE MONTHLY

Fig. 1. Buildings of Minnesota Seaside Station as seen ackoss Station Cove. The

Buildings face Nearly South.

Fig. 2. Group of Students holding an Extended3Si'ECImen of the Giant Kelp, Nereo-
cystis i'Kiapus. Just orr Shoee.a Bed of this Kelp is shown.

THE MINNESOTA SEASIDE STATION. 195

The usefulness of a nuiriiie station on. the Pacific as an adjunct to
the laboratories of a university located far inland naturally needs no
proclamation. During more than two decades, experience gained by
American students at such points as Beaufort, Woods Holl, Cold Spring
Harbor, Pacific Grove and elsewhere has demonstrated that the broad-
>est and best foundations for a knowledge of morphology can not be laid
without the assistance of instruction and research at the shore. More
and more must the recognition of this fact become general, and with
each succeeding year the number of serious students at the ocean-side
and facilities for their work must increase and improve. That there
should be stations upon both the eastern and the western coasts is im-
jjerative, and each will come to have its peculiar excellences and will
develop its special lines of work. The eastern station has the advan-
tages of accessibility while the western enjoys those of remoteness. At
the laboratory on the eastern shore one may perhaps look for more con-
veniences and refinements; at that on the western coast one may expect
more novelty and a greater openness and freedom of opportunity. To
the student in the far west nothing can be more helpful than contact
with the east ; for the student in the east nothing is more to be desired
ilian a sojourn in the west. Apparently, then, startions upon the Atlantic
and Pacific coasts are alike desirable, and each with its own field of use-
fulness may be the complement of the other. Not only does the truth
of this appear from the point of view of sound and broad instruction,
but quite as impressively in connection with research. The living organ-
isms of the two great oceans are by no means identical. To the student
who turns his face from the Atlantic to the Pacific feeling that the
New England or New Jersey shore has become somewhat trite and
habitual, there is a fresh inspiration and enthusiasm to be derived
from the coast of California or Vancouver.

One very distinct advantage enjoyed by a west coast station is the
surpassing interest of the journey by which it is reached from a mid-
continental or eastern point. AVhile the tourist from Chicago to New
York or Boston finds the journey swift and luxurious, he is passing
tlirough a relatively monotonous and uninteresting country. It is quite
otherwise with the traveler from Minneapolis to Port Eenfrew. In esti-
naating the advantages of the Minnesota Seaside Station as an outpost of
natural science and nature-study, there must certainly be taken into ac-
count not only its own immediate environment, but the route by which
it is most conveniently reached from an eastern city. The journey over
the Canadian Pacific, made in special cars and with the privilege of
stopping at will, cannot be paralleled elsewhere on the continent. From
the forest of central Minnesota the train speeds on through illimitable
wheat-fields billowing and shimmering from horizon to horizon. It
clim1)s from the valley of the Eed river out upon the vast and lonely

196

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

plains of Assiniboia and swings westward, liour after hour, over the
silent ranges furrowed everywhere by unnumbered feet of the departed
herd. It rises to tlie foothills beyond Calgary and sights the white wall
of the Kocl^y mountains a hundred miles away. It plunges through the
Gap at Canmore, ascends the valley of the Boav between colossal peaks,
crosses the continental divide at Laggan, drops doAvn the canyon beside a
foaming torrent to the mountain-girt valley of the Columbia, rises again
mile after mile into the icy air of Eogers Pass amid the glaciers of the
Selkirk summits and finds its way with the rushing waters of the

Fk;. 3. Foot of the Great Glaciei; of the Sf.i.kii'.ks.

Illicillewaet down to the Columbia again at Eevelstoke. It hurries
through echoing valleys, beside enchanting lakes, across ridges and
chasms into the desert along the Thompson. It enters the historic
valley of the Fraser and underneath frowning cliffs creeps down the
reverberant gorge to the wonderful amphitheaters of Yale and Hope and
finally reaches Vancouver and the sea. Then come the steamer voyages
through the Straits of Georgia to Victoria and through the Straits of
Fuca to Port Eenfrew, and at last the invigorating walk through the
forest or sturdy pull along the shore. To the lover of nature as well as
to the serious student of ecology or plant distribution there is perhaps
nowhere in the world a more inspiring and instructive journey of tw'o
thousp^^d miles than this. It gives an opportunity of becoming

THE MINNESOTA SEASIDE STATION.

197

acquainted with the forests, the prairies, the phiins, the foot-hills, the
mountains, tlie glaciers, the deserts and the sea.

At such points as Lake Louise, where the mountain scenery is inde-
scribably grand, there is an unequaled field for the study of talus-
vegetation, the influence of the snow-line and the avalanche upon plant
distribution and the characteristic population of mountain-park and
meadow. Here one comes close to the wild life of the peaks, and far
above the lake one may see the goats grazing upon their inaccessible
crags or one may sometimes hear the roar of a grizzly rising distinct

Fig. 4.

View on Lake Louise showim; Efkect of Snow Slides and Talus Slopes on the

Distribution op Plants.

above the clamor of the torrents. At Glacier the CiTcct of icc-ciii-renls
upon the growth and distribution of plants is most interestingly dis-
played. A series of photographs beginning just in front of the ice-mass
and extending some hundreds of yards down the valley of the Illi-
cillewaet shows at a glance how revegetation has proceeded, as the glacier
has slowly and regularly retreated.

The exact situation of the Minnesota Seaside Station is in a little
cove at the entrance of the Straits of Fuca, nearly opposite Cape
Flattery, just outside the picturesque harbor of Port Eenfrew and about
sixty miles north of the city of Victoria. The west shore of Vancouver
island is described in the old books of travel as a 'stern and rock-bound
coast,' and it is indeed a perilous one for navigation. During much of

198 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the year there is mist and fog to conceal the reefs and ledges and it has
been the scene of many a tragedy of the sea since the old days of Drake
and Ferrelo and the quest for the Northwest Passage. If the fog hangs
low one may perhaps hear in the offing the sullen note of an Oriental
liner as she feels her way into the Straits of Fuca, or if the skies are

Fig. 5. A View of the Shore at Low Tide just in Front of the Seaside Station.

clear one may look across the water to the blue shores of Washington,
indented by Xeah and Clallam bays and prolonged westward into the
ocean to the rock upon which stands Cape Flattery light. To the left
rise the far-shining peaks of the Olympic mountains and, with a binocu-

FiG. G. The Olympic Mountains as seen across the Straits of Fuca, from the Neigh-
borhood OF THE Race Rocks.

lar, glaciers can be seen upon their untrodden summits. When the
Straits are flashing with the breeze, the picture of ocean, shore, forest
and mountain is one of the most beautiful in the world, rivaling the

THE MINNESOTA SEASIDE STATION

199

bay of Xaples or the Adriatic and almost equaling the matchless Peru-
vian coast and the sea-front of Ecuador.

The log buildings of the Station stand in a small clearing and have
en outlook upon the Straits and upon the Pacific. With the forest
behind and the ocean in front their situation is as perfect scenically as it
is for the purposes of science. ]\Iilcs of tide-pools, reefs and kelp-covered
rocks are easily accessible along the water front, while landward the
hills rise to a height of nearly 3,000 feet. Four miles back are the
mouths of the San Juan and Cjordon rivers, both of which flow into Een-
frew port and may be utilized as canoe routes towards the lakes and
mountains of the interior. Over the v/hole country side spreads the
primeval and well-nigh impenetrable forest of A^'ancouver with its
gnarled yews, enormous cedars and towering spruces. On each side of

Fig. 7. 'The Formalo.se Cluk ' The Ai.(;AE draped uvek the Lous are Egreoia axd

Nereocystis.

the Station buildings a little rivulet comes down from tlie hills and
the waters of the two mingle on the rocks just below high-tide mark.
Altogether, the opportunity for the study of marine and coastal botany
and zoology is magnificent, and there is no good reason why it
should not be possible to maintain a thoroughly well-equipped interna-
tional marine station at tlie entrance to the waters of Pugct Sound. The
location is altogether admirable, rich and interesting, and practical work
lias begun.

200

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

, ,-

i^!f3l^l

''

w^jS^^

-, - *■

Shh

•'-^'^&-

jS^MB

'5ai**'

^■^^^^H

Bil

^,r

f

/

t

^i".

^S9»^^^

^

4

SL

^

^bI

I^^H

^^^^I^S^!& WH^^I

^^^RBHFa

1

-.

-

^^

BB^^^^^^^^^^^f^^^^B

HHr^

--^^K^IlMH

Kfe:-:^-y-

"^^^^H

HH^Hj

|H^to|gH|B|g|^^^H

IT

-^^ ■,j :^

v%

B

^^^^''^'''-

:a;;;i:,^

^■fcvt^ '-r ■

-'I

■■■li^H

^ — ^

E. Zj^iHHHHI

Fig. 8. A Cove on the West Coast near the Station showing Salai, Bushes, Entero-

MORPHA Formation and a Strong Zone of Fucus evanescens. The Trees in

the Center carry large Masses of Epiphytic mosses.

Fiu.^^'j. Kej.p-covered Rock showing Siecimens- uf Egregia, Alaria and Halosaccion
in Characteristic Attitudes. Phvi.lospadix scouleri appears in the Foreground.

TJIE MINNESOTA SEASIDE STATION.

20I

At present the buildings of the Station number two and comprise a
small house, 25 by 12 feet, on the shore, with a larger building, 60 by 25
feet, in the rear and on the higher ground. A third building is to be
erected during the winter. Tiast summer, when a party of thirty-three
went west from Minneapolis, it was apparent that the buildings would
be inconveniently crowded, but by devoting half of the large living room
to laboratory purposes it was possible to accommodate all who desired to
work. The small house was used principally for microscopic work and
for preservation of anatomical material. It received the name of the
Tormalose Club' from some ingenious members of the party. The large
house is two stories in height and arranged for general camp purposes.
Below, a transverse hallway divides the kitchen and storeroom from the

Fig. 10. Field of Endocladia muricata on Schistose Rock together with Missels and

Barnacles.

dining and Ining room. The latter with its large fireplace at the end
and its festoons of flags and bunting in the University colors proved to
be attractive and cheerful. Above, two large bunk rooms, one for men
and one for women, afford the comforts of balsam beds to the weary,
after the day's work is done.

Station equipment did not present a very serious problem during the
first season. ]\Iost of the party preferred to devote their energies to the
collection of material. However, some twelve or fifteen microscopes
were in use, and both the small library and the store of chemicals and
glassware were daily drawn upon.

In view of the many novel varieties and curious habits of the sea-
weeds they were the principal objects of study during the season of 1901.

202

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Fig. 11. A Group of Pelyetia, a Chakacteristic high-tide \Vka( k of the West^Coast.

,, -^^^^^e^-sr.^-j^ ''«- --^tr

■iJ

Fig. 12. The Upper, or Hedophyllum Zone, of the Kelp F(ikmation is shown in the
■ Foreground. In the Middle Distance Alaria and Laminaria bongardiana with
Plants of Egregia are the Abundant Forms.

TIJE MINNESOTA SEASIDE STATION.

203

Not onh^ did they prove of unusual taxonomic interest — some entirely
new species being collected — but also well worthy of careful ecological
research. Their zonal distribution, formation groups and choice of spe-
cial substrata were noted, together with their behavior at different stages
of the tide. Often very sharp lines of demarcation between different
algal societies were exhibited. In Figure 8 an excellent example is re-
produced. At the rear, near the center, is seen the characteristic fringe
of salal (Gaultheria shallon) in front of which Enteromorpha colonies
are established npon the flat sandstone. In the foreground appears a
sharp zone of wrack (Fucus evanescens). In this view there is also
shown some of the unusually vigoro;:s epiphytic moss-vegetation so

Fig. 13. In the Foreground are seen Phyllospadix scotj^kki, La.minaria bongardiana

AND LESSONIA LITTORALIS, THE LATTER BEING A CHAKACTERIS lIC

Surge 1'lant of the Coast.

abundantly represented on ^'ancouver island. Another very distinct in-
stance of zonal distribution is shown in Figure 9, the photograph having
been taken at low tide. In the foreground the slender leaves of a marine
angiosperm (Phyllospadix scouleri) are seen, spread over which are
fronds of Egregia, one of the most notable of the west coast kelps. The
sides of the dome-shaped rock are draped with kelp, principally Egregia
and Alaria, while the top is covered with a fairly uniform and copious
growth of the alga which has passed under the name of Halosaccion
bydrophora, but concerning which it is possible that an error has been
made by American phycologists.

Under other topograpliie conditions the zonal distribution is not so

204

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

evident, and in Figure 10 is shown an arrangement of algae and ani-
mals upon a much creviced slate. Barnacles of two distinct types and
mussels, mingled with a growth of Endocladia muricata, appear in this

,^:^^r4ri^^^;'|

Fig. 14. CORALLINACEAE AT THE EDGE OF A TlDE-POOI., ON THE RiGHT AMPHIROA AND ON

THE Left Corai.lina.

view, but the general grouping is less clearly concentric. Nevertheless
the Endocladia zone is pretty well defined as a mid-tide algal society
and sometimes shows sharp demarcation when favorably situated for a
pure growth.

■■iv J-" -Jt ■ '•

Fig. 15. A Plant of Codium -Mr( kunaii m < ai.ifukmi i'\i, a Cii AUArTKRi.sTif Siphonacaeous

ai.(;a of the Tii)i;-Pooi.>>.

Among the high-tide algae — those occupying the upper zones — Pel-
vetia is an interesting form. It occurs at the same levels adopted by

THE MINNESOTA SEASIDE STATION.

20:

,r

¥lG. lli. A FKUXI' OF Di;SM AI'.I'.STIA I.I'.U.AIA
HEEBACEA TAKEN FROM THF; WASH AFTEK A

Storm.

Fucus, of which it is taxonomically an ally, and often produces con-
siderable beds, though not everywhere abundant like the Fucus. In
Figure 11 a group of Pelvetia is

shown and its habit can easily be I

recognized.

Of the low-tide algae there is
not only a characteristic segre-
gation relative to depth of water,
but a careful selection of habits
more or less exposed to the in-
fluence of the surf and surge.
Quite a characteristic group of
surf-plants including such kelps
as Postelsia palmaeformis and
one species of Alaria display
themselves where the surf is
strongest and seem to require the
foaming water of the breakers for
their best development. Below
these in more sheltered places
one finds Hedophyllum, Alaria and Egregia. Below Postelsia, but ex-
posed to strong surge, grow the Lessonias, while Pterygophora seeks the

_. ^ bottom of the surge and N"ereo-
I cystis anchors itself in still
j deeper water outside the line of
breakers. In this outer zone, too,
Macrocystis and Dictyoneuron
seem to find their best opportu-
nities for growth, while Costaria
comes somewhat nearer shore.
The latter is, however, commonly
brought up with the ISTereocystis
holdfasts, when they are detached
from the bottom. Figure 13
shows the exposure of surge-
plants at low tide. On the right
is Lessonia littoralis. In front is
Laminaria bongardiana and on
the left is Phyliospadix scouleri.
The Lessonia, in particular, is
beautifully adapted by its mas-
sive trunk and slender leaves to
maintain its foothold in the surge and with Postelsia in the surf and
JSTereocystis in the deeper water shows in magnificent fashion the work-

^-

Fig. 17. Plant of UHOuo.MiiLA Fi.occo.sA'

TAKEN FROM THE Wa.SH AND PH0T0(;R APHED

IN A Glass-bottomed Tank.

2o6

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing out of the same structural type under slightly different adaptational
conditions.

In the sheltered pot-holes where the motion of the water en masse
\> not possible and where the total movement is comparatively less vio-
lent, one finds an altogether different flora and fauna from that in evi-
dence on exposed reefs. Figure 14, showing the edge of a tide-pool and
penetrating below the surface of the clear liquid that fills it, presents a
view of two genera of Corallinaceae — Amphiroa on the right and to-
wards the center, and Corallina on the left. Below, suffering from slight
refraction, may be identified the frond of Codium mucronatum cali-

FiG. 18. Trunk of a West Coast Cedar showing the Abundant Epiphytic Vegetation

AND indicating THE CHARACTERISTIC LOMARIA FORMATION OF THE FOREST FLOOR.

f ornicum. The latter alga, a somewhat characteristic inhabitant of the
tide-pools, is shown exposed to the air in Figure 15. Its size may
be judged by the leaves of Phyllospadix above and the Chiton clinging
to the rock.

Some of the seaweeds of Port Renfrew were difficult to gather excr-pt
from the wash. Here certain large forms such as Dictyoneuron, Des-
marestia, Callymenia and others were particularly abundant. Figure 16

THE MINNESOTA SEASIDE STATION.

J07

shows siu-h a plant of Desmarestia ligulata herbaeea, while Figure 17 is
from a photograpli made in a tank with glass bottom and shows a plant
of Rhodomela fioccosa.

Tlu' portraits of algae given will suffice to indicate the wealth of
material awaiting study and research at the Minnesota Seaside Station.
The interior country with its forest and mountains is scarcely less inter-
esting than the shore. The liotanist from the East is particularly im-
pressed with the magnificent size of the trees, the luxuriance of the
Tjomaria formation of the forest-floor and the wealth of epiphytic and
parasitic vegetation. The houghs of the trees are festooned with mosses

Fi(i. 19. Moss-covered Hexenbesen of the Dwarf Mistletoe on Hemlock Trees near

Poet Renfrew.

and hepatics and their bark covered with lichens, ferns and small flower-
ing plants. Figure 19 shows a typical colony of Polypodium scouleri
upon coniferous bark and illustrates the prevalent epiphytism of ferns
and mosses throughout the district. Figure 20 gives a view of mistletoe
hexenbesen covered with moss and due to the action of the dwarf mistle-
toe, Eazoumofskya pusilla. Numerous other parasitic plants are to be

!08

POPULAR SCIENCE MOyTHLY.

found in the forest, notably Bosclmiakia strobilacea, a member of the
broom-rape family and omnipresent upon the roots of the salal bush.

From the above it will be seen that the natural surroundings of the
Minnesota Seaside Station are highly favorable for varied and produc-
tive research. The beginning that has been made has received en-
couragement from Canadian and American botanists, and it is possible
that the modest camp on the Straits of Fuca may develop into a genuine
marine laboratory with full equipment and a field of usefulness pecul-
iarly its own. In any event it will doubtless serve as an objective point
for more than one biological pilgrimage from the central- western states.
During the season of 1901, when possibly the largest scientific party ever

iff* "^ \^'^r

^■■'>'^-

Fl(i. 20. PoLYPUDIU.M SfJl'LEKI A COMMON FeRN EPIPHYTE OX TREE TRUNKS.

conducted to so distant a point was enabled to spend a pleasant and
profitable six weeks in the mountains and on the shore, representatives
from several universities, colleges, normal schools and high schools were
in attendance, one coming all the way from Tokyo. So successful an ex-
periment as that of the summer just past will certainly justify the
organization of other parties in years to come.

The illustrations in this paper are all from photographs by C. J.
Hibbard, Esq., photographer of the Department of Botany in the Uni-
versity of Minnesota, with the exception of Figure 6, which is from a
lantern slide by Flemming Bros., of Victoria, B. C.

ANTARCTIC EXPLORATION. 209

ANTARCTIC EXPLOEATION.

By professor J. W. GREGORY, F.R.S.,

UNIVERSITY, MELBOURNE.

I. The Search for the 'Terra Australis.'

^T^HE search for the supposed great southern continent roused inter-
-*- est in the South Polar area, even earlier than the commercial
need for the Northeast or Northwest Passage directed the attention of
the European nations to the Arctic seas. Long before Hudson had
started the northern whale fishery, or Barents had discovered Spitz-
bergen, or Willoughby had set out on that 'new and strange navigation/
which, according to Milton, was intended to save England from the com-
mercial ruin threatened by foreign competition, Arabian, Dutch and
Spanish sailors had searched for a continent in the great southern sea.

Belief in the existence of this 'Terra Australis' dates from the time
of the earliest classical geographies. They regarded it as a corollary
of the spherical shape of the earth; for it was thought that terrestrial
equilibrium could only be maintained by two land masses acting as
counterpoises to the land of the old world. The existence of America
was therefore predicted as the necessary western antipodes, and a great
southern continent was assumed as the southern antipodes. The land
that Ptolemy represented as connecting Africa and southeastern Asia
and closing the Indian Ocean as a Mediterranean Sea, was regarded as
part of the northern shore of this southern continent. Faith in this
'Terra Australis' has survived in spite of the repeated failures to prove
its existence; for more than two and twenty centuries the supposed
limits of this land have receded as geographical research advanced south-
ward. One of the geographical results of the Indian expedition of
Alexander the Great was the separation of Ceylon from the southern
continent. Ptolemy's land connection between southern Africa and
eastern Asia was pushed backward by the Arabian sailors who reached
Australia. Confirmation of the theory was however claimed by the dis-
covery of Terra del Fuego and Australia; but the passage of Drake's
Straits and Tasman's voyage along the southern coast of Australia
showed that both areas were bounded southward by the sea. Then it
was asserted that New Zealand was part of the southern continent, and
de Bougainville was sent in 1763 to discover colonizable parts of it, so
that France might replace her lost American possessions by new settle-
ments in the south. The French expedition, however, was disappointed

VOL. LX. — 14.

2IO

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

at finding only some insignificant
islands, and Cook's first voyage
showed that New Zealand was an
independent archipelago.

In spite of the great shrinkage
of the supposed southern conti-
nent caused by the expeditions of
Cook and de Bougainville, there
was still left an unknown area
round the south pole large enough
to hold a big land mass. Various
new arguments were used to prove
that such land must exist. De
Quiros in the New Hebrides felt
earthquakes traveling from the
south; as it was believed that
earthquakes could only originate
on land, they were taken to prove
the existence of a southern land.

Cook was accordingly sent on
his second voyage, with orders to
circumnavigate the south polar
area in as high a latitude as pos-
sible. He was to search first for
the land reported by Bouvet, and
find if it were an island or part
of a continent. If the latter he
was to "explore it as much as pos-
sible, to make such notations
thereon and observations as may
be useful to navigation or com-
merce or tend to the formation of
natural knowledge. He was also
directed to observe the genius,
temper and disposition of the in-
habitants, if any, and endeavor
by all proper means to cultivate
their friendship and alliance,
making presents and inviting
them to traffic."

Cook's voyage was brilliantly
successful, and still ranks as the
greatest of Antarctic achieve-

ANTARCTIC EXPLORATION.

211

ments. He circumnavigated the south polar region, and reached
latitudes which in some parts of his circuit have not yet been
passed. Cook's magnificent results were all the more remarkable
because of his distaste of the work. He described the sea as 'so
pestered with ice/ and the lands as having 'an inexpressibly horrid
aspect, and though he saw the beauty of the icebergs he regarded them
with a 'mind filled with horror.' While so many coasts were uncharted
and so many seas were unsurveyed Cook thought it a preposterous waste
of time to hunt for a land, which, even if it existed, would be abso-
lutely useless to his or to several succeeding generations. At times
Cook was so impressed by the worthless nature of the Antarctic lands,
that he believed they would be severely let alone when men heard his
report of them and that they are uninhabited, uninhabitable and trade-
less. If any one go further south than I have been, said Cook, 'I shall
not envy him the honor of the discovery, but I will be bold to say that
the world will not be benefited by it.'

Sketch Map of the Antarctic Tract, giving the More Important Points that have
been named bv navigators.

All through Cook's journal we feel his irritation at having been
sent on a mission which he regarded as a waste of his time and powers.
He was comforted by the thought that he had, however, finally shown

212

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

that there is no room for the Terra Australis of classical and mediaeval
cartographers. Nevertheless he was convinced that there was a nucleus
of land in the middle of the ice-pestered sea, for he accepted the view
that thick ice is not formed on the open sea. This view was based on
the argument advanced by de Brosses in 1756, that as sea ice is sweet
it must be formed on land, until in 1776 Nairsie explained that ice
formed by the freezing of the sea water is fresh because the salt is ex-
truded as brine. Cook, however, was no doubt quite correct in the view
that the great fiat-topped Antarctic bergs could not be formed by the
direct freezing of the open sea, but must have been formed on land.

TeERA AUSTltALIS (Tiieatkum Geeis Terkarum, 1571).

Mar DEL

Terra Austealis, after Mercator (Atlas Minor, ex-officina Joannis Janssonii, 164:*).

Hence in spite of the comparatively narrow limits within which
Cook's work had restricted the possible existence of Antarctic land, the
search for it was still continued. Islands were found south of the
Atlantic; but it was not till 1840 that any extensive land area was dis-
covered south of the Pacific and Indian Oceans. Then almost simul-
taneously a French expedition under Dumont d'Urville, and the Amer-
ican expedition under Wilkes discovered the long coast line or chain of
islands known as Wilkes Land.

Wilkes' work was not only important because he traced this coast
line at intervals for 60 degrees of longitude; but the geological collec-
tions made by his expedition showed that the land is formed of
granites, massive sandstones and other rocks of continental types.

Two years later the extension of Wilkes Land to the east and the
south was proved by the famous expedition of Sir James Clark Ross,
which circumnavigated the Antarctic area and passed all previous

ANTARCTIC EXPLORATION. 213

records by reaching the latitude of 78°. On his own lines Ross's work
was magnificent. His magnetic survey has not been equalled in
the Antarctic; his southern record was not passed until 1900; his dis-
covery of Victoria Land and Mounts Erebus and Terror were geo-
graphical results of high importance. But Eoss's range of interest
was narrow ; he did not land on the main land he discovered, and would
not let his doctor, McCormick; he advanced erroneous theories of
oceanic circulation, assigned wrong temperatures to the sea water,
owing to misunderstanding his thermometers; he told us practically
nothing of the geology of the Antarctic lands, for the few pebbles he
brought back were neglected until they were recently unearthed and
described by Mr. Prior.

After the voyage of Eoss there was a long interval before- serious
work in the Antarctic was renewed. Sealers and whalers made minor
geographical discoveries, and the voyage of the 'Challenger' in 1874
showed that the Antarctic sea is full of scientific interest. But it was
not until 1885 and 1886 that the papers of Professor G-. Neumayer,
now of Hamburg, and formerly director of the Flagstaff Observatory
at Melbourne, and of Sir John Murray roused fresh interest in Antarctic
research. Since then the voyages of some Dundee and Norwegian
sealers, of the 'Antarctic' and 'Southern Cross' in Victoria Land and
the Eoss Sea, and of the 'Belgica' to the south of the Atlantic have
made important additions to our Antarctic knowledge.

11. The Four Antarctic Expeditions.

Now, in the year 1901, four expeditions are starting for the
Antarctic: an English expedition under Commander E. F. Scott, E.
N., in the 'Discovery,' with Mr. G. E. Murray, F.E.S., as head of the
civilian scientific stafl:; a German expedition under Professor E. von
Drygalski in the 'Gauss'; a Swedish expedition under Dr. Otto
Nordenskjold in the 'Antarctic/ and a Scotch expedition under Mr.
W. S. Bruce.

The four expeditions will work as far as possible on a common plan,
but in different areas. The 'Discovery' will start from New Zealand
and go thence into the Eoss Sea, which will be its central field of work.
The German expedition will go south from Kerguelen to the western
end of Wilkes Land, geographically the least known part of the
Antarctic; its route will depend on the geography of the area, but the
idea is to work southwestward toward the Weddell Sea, south of the
Atlantic. The Swedish and Scotch expeditions both go to the South
Atlantic.

The work of these expeditions will depend primarily on the geo-
graphical character of their fields of operation. The Antarctic area
includes three main geographical divisions, (1) Wilkes and Victoria

2 14 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Lands; (2) the division south of the Pacific from Eoss's Sea to
Alexander Land; (3) the Graham Land with its associated archi-
pelagoes and the Weddell Sea that separates it from the western end of
Wilkes Land.

As the first essential to the scientific investigation of a country is
some acquaintance with its general topography, the primary factor in
determining the work of the expeditions is the grade of our geographical
knowledge of their fields of operations.

Geographical knowledge of the Antarctic is at present on two grades ;
in some areas the pioneer exploration has been done as far as concerns
work at sea; of other areas we know nothing. Our knowledge is of
the first grade in respect to only two or three areas; they are Graham
Land with its associated islands and the coast of Victoria Land with
the adjacent Ross Sea; perhaps we should also include in this category
the northern shore of Wilkes Land, though it is known only at in-
tervals and one of its most important areas, the angle between it and
Victoria Land, is quite unlmown. The rest of the Antarctic regions is
on the second grade; the shores of the Weddell Sea have never been
sighted; the western termination of Wilkes Land is quite hypothetical;
speculations as to the area to the south of the Pacific are dependent on
general considerations and the interpretation of a couple of distant
and imperfectly recorded views.

Accordingly the plan of operations of each expedition should be
dependent on the extent of our geographical knowledge of its field of
operations. The English expedition has the advantage of a well-
Icnown entry into its central area, in which the most fruitful work will
be scientific observations taken with the highest degree of accuracy
and in the fullest detail. For pioneer geographical work it will be de-
pendent on sledge expeditions inland, and at sea on how far it can
push eastward from the Ross Sea into the southern Pacific.

The German expedition on the other hand goes into the region of
which our ignorance is most complete. Its first work will therefore be
pioneer geographical exploration, on the basis of which its expert
scientific staff can found the observations that will be made concur-
rently. The expedition starts from the French island of Kerguelen
where a base station and observatory have been established. Thence
the 'Gauss' will sail due southward toward the supposed western end
of Wilkes Land, and enter the ice near Enderby Land. Thence-
forth its progress will depend on the character of that region. The
general idea is to work slowly southwestward into the Weddell Sea,
sending out sledge expeditions to explore any lands that may be seen.
The proposed route of the ship has the drawback that it may be con-
trary to the prevalent drift of the ice and currents. Accordingly the
expedition has been equipped on the expectation of a long, slow battle

ANTARCTIC EXPLORATION. 215

with the ice. The ^Gauss' has been designed for strength, not speed,
and has been fitted up so as to make the minimum possible demands on
its coal consumption for steaming, scientific work and domestic use.
The number of the staff has been kept lower than on the English ex-
pedition so that the food supply may be larger and last longer. To
make up for the smallness of the crew, 70 dogs have been provided for
sledge expeditions. Further various tempting fields of scientific work
are to be left unentered as impracticable with the available cargo
capacity of the ship.

The Swedish and Scotch expeditions both go to an area where the
opportunity for work largely depends on the particular ice conditions
of the season. If the ice be open and the Weddell Sea fairly clear, they
may reach high latitudes and discover the southern boundary of the
South Atlantic basin. As so much depends on the chances of the
weather, the plan in both cases is to establish stations on shore as far
south as possible, and for the ships to leave the ice at the end of the
simimer and undertake oceanographic research outside the ice pack dur-
ing the winter.

III. The Problems of the Antarctic.

The frequency of enquiries as to the practical value of Antarctic
research shows that popular interest in the subject still values results
from what it chooses to call their 'usefulness.' Information as to the
meteorology and magnetic phenomena of the Antarctic regions may
prove of value in navigation and weather prediction. Unexpected
stores of economic products may be found on land or at sea. Never-
theless it must be admitted that the hope of practical rewards is a less
powerful incentive to Antarctic exploration than the desire for new
facts of theoretical value. The expeditions seek knowledge because it
is knowledge rather than because it may be power. The first problem
which the collated reports of the four expeditions will be expected to
answer is whether the hypothetical 'Terra Australis' has any existence
at the present day. Opinions are divided on this question. According
to one school the Antarctic lands mostly belong to a great south polar
continent; according to another there is no continent but only a num-
ber of comparatively small and widely scattered islands. Sir John
Murray is the leading champion of the continental hypothesis; he has
sketched the probable outline of his 'Antarctica' and represents it as
an irregularly triangular area, of a size fully entitling it to rank as a
continent.

That the Antarctic lands belong to a continent geologically there
can be no doubt; for rocks of a typical continental character have now
been collected from most of them, including Victoria Land, Wilkes
Land and Graham Land. Specimens are now especially wanted

2i6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

from Dougherty Island and Peter Island in the southern Pacific.
Meteorological evidence supports the idea that the Antarctic is still a
continent geographically, and that the center of the land is not coin-
cident with the south pole, but is in the eastern part of the area.

The available evidence appears to be decidedly in favor of Sir John
Murray's theory, though the question cannot be definitely settled until
the range of the land has been mapped. This task may be facilitated
by the guidance as to the probable trend and position of the coasts, that
is given by the principles of geomorphology.

If the current theory of the structural unity of the Pacific ocean
be correct, then that ocean must be bounded on the south by a coast
of the ''Pacific type.' With one exception in Central America the
whole of the known coasts of the Pacific belong to what Suess has called
the 'Pacific type.' The main character of this form of coast is that
the trend is determined by mountain ranges rimning parallel to the
shore. In the South Pacific this type is well exemplified by iSTew
Zealand on one side and by the Andes of South America on the other. In
southern Patagonia the Andes are turned from their meridional course
and run eastward across Terra del Fuego. The tectonic line of the
Andes is then apparently bent suddenly southward and reappears in
Graham Land. It is probably continued round the southern Pacific,
meeting the known end of the New Zealand line near Mounts Erebus
and Terror.

The theory of the structural unity of the Pacific is sufficiently
established to render it probable that Cook was close to land when he
turned back from his furthest south in the South Pacific (71°S.
123°E.), that the 'ice-barriers' of Ross and Bellingshausen are both
the fronts of glaciers flowing from highlands to the south; that there
is a land connection of the Pacific coast type running from Koss's ice
barriers northeastward to Graham Land; and that Victoria Land is
connected to Wilkes Land by a broad bight.

There are no such data for predictions as to the distribution of
land and water in the German and Scotch areas of work. For Wilkes
Land and the lands that may extend thence westward towards Graham
Land are no doubt plateau countries bounded to the north by coasts of
the 'Atlantic type'; and the trend of such coasts is not determined by
simple continuous tectonic lines. That Wilkes Land and Geikie Land
repeat the structure of southern Australia is rendered probable by the
geological collections of all the expeditions from Wilkes to the ' South-
ern Cross.' The westward extension of this land line has probably the
same structure, and it is accordingly impossible to predict how far the
Weddell cuts into the Antarctic lands.

The principles of geomorphology not only suggest the external
shape of 'Antarctica' but also its internal relief. It is probable that it

ANTARCTIC EXPLORATION. 217

i? not a dome of land increasing in height slowly from the coasts to a
central point near the South Pole; it is more likely to consist of a
lofty mountain range running near the Pacific shore and of a broad
plateau sloping downward from this mountain axis across the pole to
Weddell Sea on the one side and the bight between Wilkes Land and
Enderby Land on the other.

The remaining problems of the Antarctic are of less general and
more technical interest. The magnetic survey, the need for which led
to the British Government's contribution of £45,000 to the cost of the
'Discovery,' is generally regarded as the most important item in the
scientific program. The principal point to be determined by the
British expedition is the variation in the magnetic elements since the
surveys of Eoss and of Clerk and Moore. The deep fauna of the
Antarctic seas was proved by the 'Challenger' and the 'Belgica' to be
rich in new forms of life; and according to Murray the Antarctic and
Arctic faunas have many elements in common. More material is needed
for the proper analysis of the resemblances between the two faunas, and
the collections may be expected to yield some hitherto undiscovered ani-
mals of ancient types.

The exact shape of the earth is another question which cannot be
settled without fresh evidence from the Antarctic. For this purpose
two at least of the expeditions have been provided with pendulum
outfits; by noting the exact length of time occupied by the swing of
a pendulum the distance of the place of observation from the earth's
center can be determined. It is held that the south polar region
projects further from the plane of the equator than does the north
polar region ; according to one estimate the south pole is slightly more
than one hundredth further from the earth's center than the north pole.

The work of the expeditions includes researches in the physics of
glacier ice, a subject in which Professor von Drygalski is an expert, on
the distribution and spectroscopic phenomena of the Aurora; on the
composition and movements of the atmosphere, and the currents of the
Antarctic Seas.

If the explorers only have the success which they deserve their
arduous and devoted labors will contribute materially toward the
progress of many branches of science. In fact, as Sir John Murray
assures us, 'the results of a successful Antarctic expedition would mark
a great advance in the philosophy — apart from the mere facts — of ter-
restrial science.'

2i8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE POSSIBLE IMPROVEMENT OF THE HUMAN
BREED UNDER THE EXISTING CONDI-
TIONS OP LAW AND SENTIMENT.*

By FRANCIS GALTON, D.C.L., D.Sc, F.R.S.,

LOXDON.

TN fuljfilling the honorable charge that has been entrusted to me of
-*- delivering the Huxley lecture, I shall endeavor to carry out what
I understand to have been the wish of its founders, namely, to treat
broadly some new topic belonging to a class in which Huxley himself
would have felt a keen interest, rather than to expatiate on his charac-
ter and the work of his noble life.

That which I have selected for to-night is one which has occupied
my thoughts for many years, and to which a large part of my published
inquiries have borne a direct though silent reference. Indeed, the re-
marks I am about to make would serve as an additional chapter to my
books on 'Hereditary Genius' and on 'Natural Inheritance.' My sub-
ject will be the possible improvement of the human race under the ex-
isting conditions of law and sentiment. It has not hitherto been
approached along the ways that recent knowledge has laid open, and it
occupies in consequence a less dignified position in scientific estimation
than it might. It is smiled at as most desirable in itself and possibly
worthy of academic discussion, but absolutely out of the question as a
practical problem. My aim in this lecture is to show cause for a differ-
ent opinion. Indeed I hope to induce anthropologists to regard human
improvement as a subject that should be kept openly and squarely in
view, not only on account of its transcendent importance, but also because
it affords excellent but neglected fields for investigation. I shall show
that our knowledge is already sufficient to justify the pursuit of this,
perhaps the grandest of all objects, but that we know less of the condi-
tions upon which success depends than we might and ought to ascertain.
The limits of our knowledge and of our ignorance will become clearer as
we proceed.

Human Variety.

The natural character and faculties of human beings differ at least
as widely as those of the domesticated animals, such as dogs and horses,
with whom we are familiar. In disposition some are gentle and good-

* The second Huxley Lecture of the Anthropological Institute, delivered on
October 29, 1901.

IMPROVEMENT OF THE HUMAN BREED. 219

tempered^ others surly and vicious; some are courageous, others timid;
some are eager, others sluggish; some have large powers of endurance,
others are quickly fatigued; some are muscular and powerful, others
are weak; some are intelligent, others stupid; some have tenacious
memories of places and persons, others frequently stray and are slow at
recognizing. The number and variety of aptitudes, especially in dogs,
is truly remarkable ; among the most notable being the tendency to herd
sheep, to point and to retrieve. So it is with the various natural quali-
ties that go towards the making of civic worth in man. Whether it be
in character, disposition, energy, intellect or physical power, we each
receive at our birth a definite endowment, allegorized by the parable
related in St. Matthew, some receiving many talents, others few; but
each person being responsible for the profitable use of that which has
been entrusted to him.

Distribution of Qualities in a Nation.

Experience shows that while talents are distributed in endless differ-
ent degrees, the frequency of those different degrees follows certain
statistical laws, of which the best known is the Normal Law of Fre-
quency. This is the result whenever variations are due to the combined
action of many small and different causes, whatever may be the causes
and whatever the object in which the variations occur, just as twice 2
always makes 4, whatever the objects may be. It therefore holds time
with approximate precision for variables of totally different sorts, as,
for instance, stature of man, errors made by astronomers in judging
minute intervals of time, bullet marks around the bull's-eye in target
practice, and differences of marks gained by candidates at competitive
examinations. There is no mystery about the fundamental principles
of this abstract law; it rests on such simple fundamental conceptions
as, that if we toss two pence in the air they will, in the long run, come
down one head and one tail twice as often as both heads or both tails.
I will assume then, that the talents, so to speak, that go to the forma-
tion of civic worth are distributed with rough approximation accord-
ing to this familiar law. In doing so, I in no way disregard the admi-
rable work of Professor Karl Pearson on the distribution of qualities, for
which he was adjudged the Darwin Medal of the Eoyal Society a few
years ago. He has amply proved that we must not blindly trust the
Normal Law of Frequency; in fact, that when variations are minutely
studied they rarely fall into that perfect symmetry about the mean value
which is one of its consequences. Nevertheless, my conscience is clear
in using this law in the way I am about to. I say that if certain quali-
ties vary normally, such and such will be the results ; that these qualities
are of a class that are found, whenever they have been tested, to vary

220

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

normally to a fair degree of approximation, and consequently we may
infer that our results are trustworthy indications of real facts.

A talent is a sum whose exact value few of us care to know, although
we all appreciate the inner sense of the beautiful parable. I will, there-
fore, venture to adapt the phraseology of the allegory to my present
purpose by substituting for 'talent' the words 'normal-talent.' The
value of this normal-talent in respect to each and any specified quality
or faculty is such that one-quarter of the people receive for their
respective shares more than one normal-talent over and above the aver-
age of all the shares. Our normal-talent is therefore identical with
what is technically known as the 'probable error.' Therefrom the
whole of the following table starts into life, evolved from that of the
'probability integral/ It expresses the distribution of any normal

Table I. — Normal Distribution (to the nearest per ten thousand and to

the nearest per hundred).

—4°

—3°

—2°

— 1° M.+r

4-2°

-1-3°

+4°

V and
below

u

t

s

r

E

S

T

U

V and

above.

Total

35

180

672

7

1613
16

2500
25

2500
25

1613
16

672

7

180

35

10,000

2

2

100

quality, or any group of normal qualities, among 10,000 persons in
terms of the normal-talent. The M in the upper line occupies the posi-
tion of Mediocrity, or that of the average of what all have received:
the +1°, +3°, etc., and the — 1°, — 2°, etc., refer to normal talents.
These numerals stand as graduations at the heads of the vertical lines
by which the table is divided. The entries between the divisons are
the numbers per 10,000 of those who receive sums between the amounts
specified by those divisions. Thus, by the hypothesis, 2,500 receive
more than M but less than M + l°, 1,613 receive more than M-]-l°
but less than M-|-2°, and so on. The terminals have only an inner
limit, thus 35 receive more than 4°, some to perhaps a very large but
indefinite amount. The divisions might have been carried much
farther, but the numbers in the classes between them would become less
and less trustworthy. The left half of the series exactly reflects the
right half. As it will be useful henceforth to distinguish these classes,
T have used the capital or large letters, E, S, T, U, V, for those above
mediocrity and corresponding italic or small letters, r, s, t, u, v, for
those below mediocrity, r being the counterpart of R, s of S, and so on.

In the lowest line the same values are given, but more roughly, to
the nearest whole percentage.

It will assist in comprehending the values of different grades of

IMPROVEMENT OF THE HUMAN BREED. 221

civic worth to compare them with the corresponding grades of adult
male stature in our nation. I will take the figures from my * Natural
Inheritance/ premising that the distribution of stature in various
peoples has been well investigated and shown to be closely normal. The
average height of the adult males, to whom my figures refer, was nearly
5 feet 8 inches, and the value of their 'normal-talent' (which is a
measure of the spread of distribution) was very nearly 1% inches.
From these data it is easily reckoned that Class U would contain men
whose heights exceed 6 feet I14 inches. Even they are tall enough to
overlook a hatless mob, while the higher classes, such as V, W and X,
tower above it in an increasingly marked degree. So the civic worth
(however that term may be defined) of U-class men, and still more of
V-class, are notably superior to the crowd, though they are far below
the heroic order. The rarity of a V-class man in each specified quality
or group of qualities is as 35 in 10,000, or say, for the convenience of
using round numbers, as 1 to 300. A man of the W class is ten times
rarer, and of the X class rarer still; but I shall avoid giving any
more exact definition of X than as a value considerably rarer than V.
This gives a general but just idea of the distribution throughout a
population of each and every quality taken separately so far as it is
normally distributed. As already mentioned, it does the same for any
group of normal qualities; thus, if marks for classics and for mathe-
matics were severally normal in their distribution, the combined marks
gained by each candidate in both those subjects would be distributed
normally also, this being one of the many interesting properties of the
law of frequency.

Comparison of the Normal Classes with those of Mr. Booth.

Let us now compare the normal classes with those into which Mr.
Charles Booth has divided the population of all London, in a way that
corresponds not unfairly with the ordinary conception of grades of
civic worth. He reckons them from the lowest upwards, and gives the
numbers in each class for East London. Afterwards he treats all Lon-
don in a similar manner, except that sometimes he combines two classes
into one and gives the joint result. For my present purpose, I had to
couple them somewhat diilerently, first disentangling them as I best
could. There seemed no better way of doing this than by assigning to
the members of each couplet the same proportions that they had in
East London. Though this was certainly not accurate, it is probably
not far WTong. Mr. Booth has taken unheard-of pains in this great
work of his to arrive at accurate results, but he emphatically says that
his classes cannot be separated sharply from one another. On the con-
trary, their frontiers blend, and this justifies me in taking slight
liberties with his figures. His class A consists of criminals, semi-

222 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

criminals, loafers and some others, who are in number at the rate of 1
per cent, in all London — that is 100 per 10,000, or nearly three times
as many as the v class: they therefore include the whole of v and
spread upwards into the u. His class B consists of very poor persons
who subsist on casual earnings, many of whom are inevitably poor from
shiftlessness, idleness or drink. The numbers in this and the A class
combined closely correspond with those in t and all below t.

Class C are supported by intermittent earnings; they are a hard-
working people, but have a very bad character for improvidence and
shiftlessness. In Class D the earnings are regular, but at the low rate
of twenty-one shillings or less a week, so none of them rise above
poverty, though none are very poor. D and C together correspond to
the whole of s combined with the lower fifth of r. The next class, E,
is the largest of any, and comprises all those with regular standard
earnings of twenty-two to tliirty shillings a week. This class is the
recognized field for all forms of cooperation and combination ; in short
for trades unions. It corresponds to the upper four fifths of r and
the lower four-fifths of E. It is therefore essentially the mediocre
class, standing as far below the highest in civic worth as it stands
above the lowest class with its criminals and semi-criminals. Xext
above this large mass of mediocrity comes the honorable class F,
which consists of better paid artisans and foremen. These are able to
provide adequately for old age, and their sons become clerks and so
forth. G is the lower middle class of shop-keepers, small employers,
clerks and subordinate professional men, who as a rule are hard-work-
ing, energetic and sober. F and G combined correspond to the upper
fifth of E and the whole of S, and are, therefore, a counterpart to D
and C. All above G are put together by Mr. Booth into one class
H, which corresponds to our T, U, V and above, and is the counterpart
of his two lowermost classes, A and B. So far, then, as these figures
go, civic worth is distributed in fair approximation to the normal law
of frequency. We also see that the classes t, u, v and below are un-
desirables.

Worth of CJiildren.

The brains of the nation lie in the higher of our classes. If such
people as would be classed W or X could be distinguishable as children
and procurable by money in order to be reared as Englishmen, it would
be a cheap bargain for the nation to buy them at the rate of many hun-
dred or some thousands of pounds per head. Dr. Farr, the eminent
statistician, endeavored to estimate the money worth of an average
baby born to the wife of an Essex laborer and thenceforward living
during the usual time and in the ordinary way of his class. Dr. Farr,
Mdth accomplished actuarial skill, capitalized the value at the child's
birth of two classes of events, the one the cost of maintenance while a

IMPROVEMENT OF TEE HUMAN BREED. 233

child and when helpless through old age, the other its earnings as boy
and mau. On balancing the two sides of the account the value of the
baby was found to be five pounds. On a similar principle, the worth
of an X-class baby would be reckoned in thousands of pounds. Some
such 'talented' folk fail, but most succeed, and many succeed greatly.
They found great industries, establish vast undertakings, increase
the wealth of multitudes and amass large fortunes for themselves.
Others, whether they be rich or poor, are the guides and light of the
nation, raising its tone, enlightening its difficulties and imposing its
ideals. The great gain that England received through the immigra-
tion of the Huguenots would be insignificant to what she would derive
from an annual addition of a few hundred children of the classes W
and X. I have tried, but not yet succeeded to my satisfaction, to
make an approximate estimate of the worth of a child at birth accord-
ing to the class he is destined to occupy when adult. It is an eminently
important subject for future investigators, for the amount of care and
cost that might profitably be expended in improving the race clearly
depends on its result.

Descent of Qualities in a Population.

Let us now endeavor to obtain a correct understanding of the
way in which the varying qualities of each generation are derived from
those of its predecessor. How many, for example, of the V class in
the offspring come respectively from the V, U, T, S and other classes
of parentage? The means of calculating this question for a normal
population are given fully in my 'Natural Inheritance.' There are
three main senses in which the word parentage might be used. They
differ widely, so the calculations must be modified accordingly. (1)
The amount of the quality or faculty in question may be known in each
parent. (2) It may be known in only one parent. (3) The two par-
ents may belong to the same class, a V-class father in the scale of
male classification always marrying a V-class mother, occupying iden-
tically the same position in the scale of female classification.

I select this last case to work out as being the one with which we
shall here be chiefly concerned. It has the further merit of escaping
some tedious preliminary details about converting female faculties into
their corresponding male equivalents, before men and women can be
treated statistically on equal terms. I shall assume in what follows
that we are dealing with an ideal population, in which all marriages
are equally fertile, and which is statistically the same in successive
generations both in numbers and in qualities, so many per cent, being
always this, so many always that, and so on. Further, I shall take no
notice of offspring who die before they reach the age of marriage, nor
shall I regard the slight numerical inequality of the sexes, but will

224

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

simply suppose that each parentage produces one couplet of grown-up
filials, an adult man and an adult woman.

The result is shown to the nearest whole per thousand in the diagram
up to 'U and above/ It may be read either as applying to fathers and
their sons when adult, or to mothers and their daughters when adult,
or, again, to parentages and filial couplets. I will not now attempt to
explain the details of the calculation to those to whom these methods

STANDARD

SCHEME OF DESCENT

PARENTAL GRADES
NUMBER IN EACH

u

22

t

67

yd

161

T

250

250

S

161

T
67

U
22

toco COUPLES
BOTH PARENTS Of
SAME &RADE AND*
ONE ADULT
CHILD TO EACH

m

1

HHI

MH

I

—

REGRESSION OF

PARENTAL TO

riLIAL CENTRES

"1

• • ^ 1

{ •'' ?'''

.:

-J
22 Cmildmn or H

67 „ or t

161 or '6

2i0 .. or /

210 . or R

161 or &

67 „ or T

22 .. or U

<

(,

e

; 6

•

2' !

7

17

23

's:
1

' 4

'1 1

—HBBHH

s

}}

50

S2l

?S

b ; 1

B—

HH

2

1 4

5 1 8 6 6 8

4

js; . <

4

2!) «S

86

5'!
>

;i4 z

■■B

•

1

« ii il

so; 2: i

• «

1 1

J 4 IS

2 3 ;i7 7

1
•

i

6 i t

SUMS

20

e

'o 162

252

252

162

66

20

are new. Those who are familiar with them will easily understand the
exact process from what follows. There are three points of reference
in a scheme of descent which may be respectively named 'mid-parental,'
'genetic' and 'filial' centers. In the present case of both parents being
alike, the position of the mid-parental center is identical with that of
either parent separately. The position of the filial center is that from
which the children disperse. The genetic center occupies the same posi-
tion in the parental series that the filial center does in the filial series.
'Natural Inheritance' contains abundant proof, both observational and

IMPROVEMENT OF THE HUMAN BREED. 225

theoretical, that the genetic center is not and cannot be identical with
the parental center, but is always more mediocre, owing to the combina-
tion of ancestral influences — which are generally mediocre — with the
purely parental ones. It also shows that the regression from the
parental to the genetic center, in the case of stature at least, would
amount to two thirds under the conditions we are now supposing. The
regression is indicated in the diagram by converging lines which are
directed towards the same point below, but are stopped at one third
of the distance on the way to it. The contents of each parental class
are supposed to be concentrated at the foot of the median axis of that
class, this being the vertical line that divides its contents into equal
parts. Its position is approximately, but not exactly, half-way be-
tween the divisions that bound it, and is as easily calculated for the ex-
treme classes, which have no outer terminals, as for any of the others.
These median points are respectively taken to be the positions of the
parental centers of the whole of each of the classes; therefore the posi-
tions attained by the converging lines that proceed from them at the
points where they are stopped, represent the genetic centers. From
these the filials disperse to the right and left with a 'spread' that can
be shown to be three quarters that of the parentages. Calculation easily
determines the number of the filials that fall into the class in which
the filial center is situated, and of those that spread into the classes on
each side. When the parental contributions from all the classes to each
filial class are added together they will express the distribution of the
quality among the whole of the offspring. Now it will be observed in
the table that the numbers in the classes of the offspring are identical
with those of the parents, when they are reckoned to the nearest whole
percentage, as should be the case according to the hypothesis. Had the
classes been narrower and more numerous, and if the calculations had
been carried on to two more places of decimals, the correspondence
would have been identical to the nearest ten thousandth. It was un-
necessary to take the trouble of doing this, as the table affords a suffi-
cient basis for what I am about to say. Though it does not profess to
be more than approximately true in detail, it is certainly trustworthy
in its general form, including as it does the effects of regression, filial
dispersion, and the equation that connects a parental generation with a
filial one when they are statistically alike. Minor corrections will be
hereafter required, and can be applied when we have a better knowledge
of the material. In the meantime it will serve as a standard table of
descent from each generation of a people to its successor.

Economy of Effort.

I shall now use the table to show the economy of concentrating our
attention upon the highest classes. We will therefore trace the origin

VOL. LX. — 15.

226

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the V class — which is the highest in the table. Of its 34 or 35
j-ons, 6 come from V parentages, 10 from U, 10 from T, 5 from
S, 3 from E, and none from any class below E. But the numbers of
the contributing parentages have also to be taken into account. When
this is done, we see that the lower classes make their scores owing to
their quantity and not to their quality; for while 35 V-class parents
suffice to produce 6 sons of the V class, it takes 2,500 E-class fathers
to produce 3 of them. Consequently the richness in produce of V-class
parentages is to that of the E-class in an inverse ratio, or as 143 to 1.
Similarly, the richness in produce of V-class children from parentages
of the classes U, T, S, respectively, is as 3, lli/^ and 55, to 1, More-
over, nearly one-half of the produce of V-class parentages are V or U
taken together, and nearly three quarters of them are either V, U or
T. If then we desire to increase the output of V-class offspring, by far
the most profitable parents to work upon would be those of the V class,
and in a threefold less degree those of the U class.

When both parents are of the V class the quality of parentages is
greatly superior to those in which only one parent is a V. In that
case the regression of the genetic center goes twice as far back towards
mediocrity, and the spread of the distribution among filials becomes
nine tenths of that among the parents, instead of being only three-
quarters. The effect is shown in Table II.

Table II. — Distribution of Sons. (I) One parent of class V., the other un-
known. (2) Both parents of class V (from Taile II., with decimal point
and an o).

Distribution of Sons

Total

t

s

r

R

S

T

7.5
10.0

U

3.6

10.0

V

One V-parent
Two V-parents

0.3

1.2

3.5

7.9
3.0

9.6
5.0

1.3

6.0

34.3
34.0

Position of the filial center of (1)=1.44, of (2) =2.89. When both par-
ents are T it = 1.58.

There is a difference of fully two divisions in the position of the
genetic center, that of the single V parentage being only a trifle nearer
mediocrity than that of the double T. Hence it would be bad economy
to spend much effort in furthering marriages with a high class on only
one side.

Marriage of Like to Like.

In each class of society there is a strong tendency to intermarriage,
which produces a marked effect in the richness of brain power of the
more cultured families. It produces a still more marked effect of
another kind at the lowest step of the social scale, as will be painfully
evident from the following extracts from the work of Mr. C. Booth

IMPROVEMENT OF THE HUMAN BREED. 227

(i. 38), which refer to his Class A, who form, as has been said, the
lowermost third of our 'v and below.' "Their life is the life of savages,
with vicissitudes of extreme hardship and occasional excess. From them
come the battered figures who slouch through the streets and play the
beggar or the bully. They render no useful service, they create no wealth,
more often they destroy it. They degrade whatever they touch, and as
individuals are perhaps incapable of improvement . . . but I do not
mean to say that there are not individuals of every sort to be found in
the mass. Those who are able to wash the mud may find some gems in
it. There are at any rate many very piteous cases. Whatever doubt
there may be as to the exact numbers of this class, it is certain that they
bear a very small proportion to the rest of the population, or even to
Class B, with which they are mixed up and from which it is at times
difficult to separate them. . . . They are barbarians, but they are a
handful. . . ." He says further, "It is much to be desired and to be
hoped that this class may become less hereditary in its character ; there
appears to be no doubt that it is now hereditary to a very considerable
extent."

Many who are familiar with the habits of these people do not
hesitate to say that it would be an economy and a great benefit to the
country if all habitual criminals were resolutely segregated imder
merciful surveillance and peremptorily denied opportunities for pro-
ducing offspring. It would abolish a source of suffering and misery to
\ future generation, and would cause no unwarrantable hardship in this.

Diplomas.

It will be remembered that Mr. Booth's classification did not help
us beyond classes higher than S in civic worth. If a strong and widely
felt desire should arise, to discover young men whose position was of
the V, W or X order, there would not be much difficulty in doing so.
Let us imagine, for a moment, what might be done in any great uni-
versity, where the students are in continual competition in studies,
in athletics, or in public meetings, and where their characters are pub-
licly known to associates and to tutors. Before attempting to make a
selection, acceptable definitions of civic worth would have to be made
in alternative terms, for there are many forms of civic worth. The
number of men of the V, W or X classes whom the university was
qualified to contribute annually must also be ascertained. As was said,
the proportion in the general population of the V class to the remainder
is as 1 to 300, and that of the W class as 1 in 3,000. But students are
a somewhat selected body because the cleverest youths, in a scholastic
sense, usually find their way to universities. A considerably high
level, both intellectually and physically, would be required as a qualifi-
cation for candidature. The limited number who had not been auto-

228 , POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

matically weeded away by this condition might be submitted in some
appropriate way to the independent votes of fellow-students on the
one hand, and of tutors on the other, whose ideals of character and
merit necessarily differ. This ordeal would reduce the possible winners
to a very small number, out of which an independent committee might
be trusted to make the ultimate selection. They would be guided by
personal interviews. They would take into consideration all favorable
points in the family histories of the candidates, giving appropriate
hereditary weight to each. Probably they would agree to pass over un-
favorable points, unless they were notorious and flagrant, owing to the
great difficulty of ascertaining the real truth about them. Ample ex-
perience in making selections has been acquired even by scientific socie-
ties, most of which work well, including perhaps the award of their
medals, which the fortunate recipients at least are tempted to consider
judicious. The opportunities for selecting women in this way are un-
fortunately fewer, owing to the smaller number of female students
between whom comparisons might be made on equal terms. In the
selection of women, when nothing is known of their athletic proficiency,
it would be especially necessary to pass a high and careful medical
examination ; and as their personal qualities do not usually admit of
being tested so thoroughly as those of men, it would be necessary to lay
all the more stress on hereditary family qualities, including those of
fertility and prepotency.

Correlation between Promise in Youth and subsequent Performance.

No serious difficulty seems to stand in the way of classifying and
giving satisfactory diplomas to youths of either sex, supposing there
were a strong demand for it. But some real difficulty does lie in the
question — Would such a classification be a trustworthy forecast of
qualities in later life ? The scheme of descent of qualities may hold good
between the parents and the offspring at similar ages, but that is not
the information we really want. It is the descent of qualities from
men to men, not from youths to youths. The accidents that make or
mar a career do not enter into the scope of this difficulty. It resides
entirely in the fact that the development does not cease at the time of
youth, especially in the higher natures, but that faculties and capa-
bilities which were then latent subsequently unfold and become promi-
nent. Putting aside the effects of serious illness, I do not suppose there
is any risk of retrogression in capacity before old age comes on. The
mental powers that a youth possesses continue with him as a man; but
other faculties and new dispositions may arise and alter the balance of
his character. He may cease to be efficient in the way of which he gave
promise, and he may perhaps become efficient in unexpected directions.

IMPROVEMENT OF THE HUMAN BREED. 229

The correlation between youthful promise and performance in
mature life has never been properly investigated. Its measurement
presents no greater difficulty, so far as I can foresee, than in other prob-
lems which have been successfully attacked. It is one of those alluded
to in the beginning of this lecture as bearing on race-improvement, and
being on its own merits suitable for anthropological inquiry. Let me
add that I think its neglect by the vast army of highly educated persons
who are connected with the present huge system of competitive examina-
tions to be gross and unpardonable. Neither schoolmasters, tutors,
officials of the universities, nor of the State department of education,
have ever to my knowledge taken any serious step to solve this impor-
tant problem, though the value of the present elaborate system of ex-
aminations cannot be rightly estimated until it is solved. When the
value of the correlation between youthful promise and adult perform-
ance shall have been determined, the figures given in the table of descent
will have to be reconsidered.

Augmentaiion of Favored Stock.

The possibility of improving the race of a nation depends on the
power of increasing the productivity of the best stock. This is far
more important than that of repressing the productivity of the worst.
They both raise the average, the latter by reducing the undesirables, the
former by increasing those who will become the lights of the nation. It
is therefore all important to prove that favor to selected individuals
might so increase their productivity as to warrant the expenditure in
money and care that would be necessitated. An enthusiasm to improve
the race would probably express itself by granting diplomas to a select
class of young men and women, by encouraging their intermarriages,
by hastening the time of marriage of women of that high class, and by
provision for rearing children healthily. The means that might be
employed to compass these ends are dowries, especially for those to
whom moderate sums are important, assured help in emergencies dur-
ing the early years of married life, healthy homes, the pressure of public
opinion, honors, and above all the introduction of motives of religious
or quasi-religious character. Indeed, an enthusiasm to improve the race
is so noble in its aim that it might well give rise to the sense of a
religious obligation. In other lands there are abundant instances in
which religious motives make early marriages a matter of custom, and
continued celibacy to be regarded as a disgrace, if not a crime. The
customs of the Hindoos, also of the Jews, especially in ancient times,
bear this out. In all costly civilizations there is a tendency to shrink
from marriage on prudential grounds. It would, however, be possible
so to alter the conditions of life that the most prudent course for an
X class person should lie exactly opposite to its present direction, for

230 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ho or she might find that there were advantages and not disadvantages
in early marriage, and that the most prudent course was to follow their
natural instincts.

We have now to consider the probable gain in the number and
worth of adult offspring to these favored couples. First as regards the
effect of reducing the age at marriage. There is unquestionably a
tendency among cultured women to delay or even to abstain from
marriage; they dislike the sacrifice of freedom and leisure, of oppor-
tunities for study and of cultured companionship. This has to be
reckoned with. I heard of the reply of a lady official of a College for
Women to a visitor who inquired as to the after life of the students.
She answered that one third profited by it, another third gained little
good, and a third were failures. 'But what becomes of the failures?'
'Oh, they marry.'

There appears to be a considerable difference between the earliest
age at which it is physiologically desirable that a woman should marry
and that at which the ablest, or at least the most cultured, women
usually do. Acceleration in the time of marriage, often amounting to
7 years, as from 28 or 29 to 21 or 22, under influences such as those
mentioned above, is by no means improbable. What would be its effect
on productivity ? It might be expected to act in two ways :

(1) By shortening each generation by an amount roughly propor-
tionate to the diminution in age at which marriage occurs. Suppose
the span of each generation to be shortened by one sixth, so that six
take the place of five, and that the productivity of each marriage is un-
altered, it follows that one sixth more children will be brought into the
world during the same time, which is, roughly, equivalent to increasing
the productivity of an unshortened generation by that amount.

(2) By saving from certain barrenness the earlier part of the child-
bearing period of the woman. Authorities differ so much as to the direct
gain of fertility due to early marriage that it is dangerous to express an
opinion. The large and thriving families that I have known were the
offspring of motliers who married very young.

The next influence to be considered is that of healthy homes. These
and a simple life certainly conduce to fertility. They also act indirectly
by preserving lives that would otherwise fail to reach adult age. It is
not necessarily the weakest who perish in this way, for instance, zymotic
disease falls indiscriminately on the weak and the strong.

Again, the children would be healthier and therefore more likely in
their turn to become parents of a healthy stock. The great danger to
high civilizations, and remarkably so to our own, is the exhaustive
drain upon the rural districts to supply large towns. Those who come
up to the towns may produce large families, but there is much reason to

IMPROVEMENT OF THE HUMAN BREED. 231

believe that these dwindle away in subsequent generations. In short,
the towns sterilize rural vigor.

As one of the reasons for choosing the selected class would be that
of hereditary fertility, it follows that the selected class would respond
more than other classes to the above influences.

I do not attempt to appraise the strength of the combined six in-
fluences just described. If each added one sixth to the produce the
number of offspring would be doubled. This does not seem impossible
considering the large families of colonists, and of those in many rural
districts ; but it is a high estimate. Perhaps the fairest approximation
may be that these influences would cause the X women to bring into the
world an average of one adult son and one adult daughter in addition
to what they would otherwise have produced. The table of descent
applies to one son or to one daughter per couple ; it may now be read as
specifying the net gain and showing its distribution. Should this esti-
mate be thought too high, the results may be diminished accordingly.

It is no absurd idea that outside influences should hasten the age of
marrying and make it customary for the best to marry the best. A
superficial objection is sure to be urged that the fancies of young
people are so incalculable and so irresistible that they cannot be guided.
No doubt they are so in some exceptional cases. I lately heard from a
lady who belonged to a county family of position that a great aunt of
hers had scandalized her own domestic circle two generations ago by
falling in love with the undertaker at her father's funeral and insisting
en marrying him. Strange vagaries occur, but considerations of social
position and of fortune, with frequent opportunities of intercourse, tell
much more in the long run than sudden fancies that want roots. In a
community deeply impressed with the desire of encouraging marriages
between persons of equally high ability, the social pressure directed to
produce the desired end would be so great as to ensure a notable amount
of success.

Profit and Loss.

The problem to be solved now assumes a clear shape. A child of the
X class (whatever X signifies) would have been worth so and so at its
birth, and one of each of the other grades respectively would have been
worth so and so; 100 X parentages can be made to produce a net gain
of 100 adult sons and 100 adult daughters who will be distributed
among the classes according to the standard table of descent. The total
value of the prospective produce of the 100 parentages can then be
estimated by an actuary, and consequently the sum that it is legitimate
to spend in favoring an X parentage. The clear and distinct state-
ment of a problem is often more than half way towards its solution^
There seems no reason why this one should not be solved between limit-
ing values that are not too wide apart to be useful.

232 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Existing Activities.

Leaving aside profitable expenditure from a purely money point of
view, the existence should be borne in mind of immense voluntary
activities that have nobler aims. The annual voluntary contributions
in the British Isles to public charities alone amount, on the lowest com-
putation, to fourteen million pounds, a sum which Sir H. Burdett
asserts on good grounds is by no means the maximum obtainable.
('Hospitals and Charities,' 1898, p. 85.)

There are other activities long since existing which might well be
extended. I will not dwell, as I am tempted to do, on the endowments
of scholarships and the like, which aim at finding and educating the
fittest youths for the work of the nation ; but I will refer to that whole-
some practice during all ages of wealthy persons interesting themselves
in and befriending poor but promising lads. The number of men who
have owed their start in a successful life to help of this kind must have
struck every reader of biographies. This relationship of befriender and
befriended is hardly to be expressed in English by a simple word that
does not connote more than is intended. The word 'patron' is odious.
Recollecting Dr. Johnson's abhorrence of the patrons of his day, I
turned to an early edition of his dictionary in hope of deriving some
amusement as well as instruction from his definition of the word, and I
was not disappointed. He defines 'patron' as 'a wretch who supports
with insolence and is repaid with flattery.' That is totally opposed to
what I would advocate, namely a kindly and honorable relation between
a wealthy man who has made his position in the world and a youth who
is avowedly his equal in natural gifts, but who has yet to make it. It is
one in which each party may well take pride, and I feel sure that if its
value were more widely understood it would become commoner than it is.

Many degrees may be imagined that lie between mere befriendment
and actual adoption, and which would be more or less effective in freeing
capable youths from the hindrances of narrow circumstances; in en-
abling girls to marry early and suitably, and in securing favor to their
subsequent offspring. Something in this direction is commonly but
half unconsciously done by many great landowners whose employments
for man and wife, together with good cottages, are given to exceptionally
deserving couples. The advantage of being connected with a great and
liberally managed estate being widely appreciated, there are usually
more applicants than vacancies, so selection can be exercised. The
consequence is that the class of men found upon these properties is
markedly superior to those in similar positions elsewhere. It might well
become point of honor, and as much an avowed object, for noble fami-
lies to gather fine specimens of humanity around them, as it is to procure
and maintain fine breeds of cattle and so forth, which are costly, but
repay in satisfaction.

IMPROVEMENT OF THE HUMAN BREED. 233

There is yet another existing form of princely benevolence which
might be so extended as to exercise a large effect on race improvement.
I mean the provision to exceptionally promising young couples of
healthy and convenient houses at low rentals. A continually renewed
settlement of this kind can be easily imagined, free from the taint of
patronage, and analogous to colleges with their self-elected fellowships
£nd rooms for residence, that should become an exceedingly desirable
residence for a specified time. It would be so in the same way that a
good club by its own social advantages attracts desirable candidates. The
tone of the place would be higher than elsewhere, on account of the high
quality of the inmates, and it would be distinguished by an air of
energy, intelligence, health and self-respect and by mutual helpfulness.

Prospects.

It is pleasant to contrive Utopias, and I have indulged in many, of
which a great society is one, publishing intelligence and memoirs, hold-
ing yearly elections, administering large funds, establishing personal
relations like a missionary society with its missionaries, keeping elaborate
registers and discussing them statistically with honest precision. But
the first and pressing point is to thoroughly justify any crusade at all
in favor of race improvement. More is wanted in the way of
unbiased scientific inquiry along the many roads I have hurried over,
to make every stepping-stone safe and secure, and to make it certain
that the game is really worth the candle. All I dare hope to effect by
this lecture is to prove that in seeking for the improvement of the race
we aim at what is apparently possible to accomplish, and that we are
justified in following every path in a resolute and hopeful spirit that
seems to lead towards that end. The magnitude of the inquiry is enor-
mous, but its object is one of the highest man can accomplish. The
faculties of future generations will necessarily be distributed according
to laws of heredity, whose statistical effects are no longer vague, for they
are measured and expressed in formulse. We cannot doubt the existence
of a great power ready to hand and capable of being directed with vast
benefit as soon as we shall have learnt to understand and to apply it.
To no nation is a high human breed more necessary than to our own,
for we plant our stock all over the world and lay the foundation of the
dispositions and capacities of future millions of the human race.

234 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE END OF THE FILTH THEORY OF DISEASE.

By Dr. CHARLES V. CHAPIN.

Ij^OIl half a century in this country, and for a longer time in Eng-
-*- land, the filth theory of disease has dominated medical thought
and has been accepted with trusting faith by the public, particularly
by the better educated portion thereof. The idea that filth is the cause
of disease dates back to a much earlier period. It has probably been a
common belief among most civilized peoples. In colonial times many
of our physicians believed in the close connection between filth and
disease, and these notions sometimes found expression in laws. The
prevalence of yellow fever in most of our seaboard cities during the
last years of the eighteenth century did much to advance the filth
theory, for this fever was held by many physicians to be par excellence
a filth disease. The popular ideas were doubtless illustrated by the
legislation enacted in Massachusetts, which provided for the summary
removal of 'any nuisance, source of filth or cause of sickness.' This
law has since been copied by fourteen states. The filth theory, how-
ever, did not become the vogue until the latter half of the nineteenth
century. Its great popularity was largely due to the efforts of three
men: Chadwick in England, Pettenkoffer in Germany and Shattuck
in the United States, but doubtless most of all to Chadwick. Edwin
Chadwick was a lawyer and social reformer. He was intensely
humanitarian, and the misery then existent in England appealed most
strongly to him. He saw that the poor people were filthy and sick, and
he assumed that the sickness was due to the filth. There were some
who objected that the relationship was not proved, but their objections
amounted to little at a time when scientific reasoning was just
beginning to find a place in medical thought. The practical reforms
brought about by Chadwick and his followers in improved housing for
the poor, improved refuse disposal, the introduction of drainage systems
and the betterment of water supplies, certainly resulted in increased
comfort, and constituted a decided advance in what we call 'civiliza-
tion.' But they did not exterminate the infectious diseases as had been
hoped and promised. The filth theory found strong supporters among
engineers, and later among drain-layers and plumbers. These men
accepted honestly enough the teaching of their medical advisers, and
naturally became active propagandists of a theory which demanded
such services as they alone could render.

END OF FILTH THEORY OF DISEASE. 235

From the middle until nearly the close of the nineteenth century,
the germ theory, during the period when it was little else than a
theory, furnished many arguments for those who contended that filth
was a fertile source of disease. Putrefaction and fermentation were
known to be similar processes, and were believed to be due to the vital
activity of minute organisms. There were good grounds for believ-
ing that diseases of an infectious nature were also dependent on the
growth in the body of similar 'germs,' and this theory from 1850 grew
rapidly into favor. The germ theory led Dr. Farr, Registrar General
of England, to classify most of the infectious diseases as 'zymotic' or
fermentative diseases, for the disease poison was supposed to act, as in
truth it does, as a ferment in the blood or other tissues in the body. If
both putrefaction and disease were due to the action of minute organ-
isms, what more reasonable than to believe, said the theorists, that
putrefying material harbored and developed the 'germs' of disease?

The filth theory then, which has had such a powerful influence on
the public mind, assumed that most of the infectious diseases were
directly and specifically caused by germs or other more subtle emana-
tions from decaying animal or vegetable matter.

Furthermore, it was claimed that while such emanations might
not in every case produce a specific disease, they did tend almost
always to affect injuriously the general health, and lower the vitality
of persons habitually exposed. Hence the sewer gas theory which has
found such acceptance, and which has taught that the gas formed from
the filth in drains is so injurious to human life that portions so minute
as not to be appreciated by the senses are yet harmful in the extreme.
It was taught by medical men and health officials that filth and decay
in every form were a serious menace to health, both from the disease
germs which they contain, and the poisonous gases which they give
off; and this teaching is received and accepted, even to-day, by a large
portion of the medical profession, health officers and the public at
large.

It is true that ever since this theory was promulgated some have
been led to doubt its dicta, because in the first place they often found
filth to abound where little zymotic disease existed, and even where the
'general health' of the people was high. On the other hand, zymotic
diseases were frequently found in the cleanest of dwellings, and where
the best of plumbing kept out all sewer gas. But most sanitary officials
accepted the theory as fact, and acted accordingly, some used it simply
as a working theory awaiting more definite knowledge, and a few were
led by their experience to allow it little weight in their work.

As soon as the germ theory of disease ceased to be a mere theory,
and the true facts in regard to the etiology of the infectious diseases
began to be known, and bacteriology gave us exact knowledge of the

2 36 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

life history of the minute organisms which are their cause, the erro-
neous generalizations of the filth theory became apparent. We can
now to a large extent discriminate between filth that is dangerous and
that which is not. We know that the gaseous emanations from decaying
matter do not produce specific disease. We know that the germs
themselves are much more rarely air borne than had been thought,
and that they are not thrown off into the air from the moist surfaces
of the materials where they are largely found.

Observations of cholera outbreaks, both in England and this coun-
tiy, furnished the best arguments for the filth theory. This disease
was in a great number of instances traced to wells or streams polluted
with leakage from privies or drains. The disease abounded in filthy
locations and among filthy people. It was perhaps natural, though not
logical, to accuse all filth as likely to produce cholera. We now know
that cholera is due to the comma spirillum and that this germ is thrown
off from the patient in the discharges from the bowels, but that
outside the body it rarely survives a few days, and practically never
increases in number. Excrement from cholera patients may infect
drinking water and so cause the disease, or among the uncleanly, fecal
matter may be pretty directly transferred from one to another, or food
may become infected by hands soiled by fecal matter, or the germs may
be carried to the food by flies or other insects.

It is not filth that causes cholera, but a particular kind of filth,
namely the excrement of cholera patients. Furthermore this filth and
its germs are not air borne, they are not breathed in, but taken in
through the mouth. This exact knowledge does away with the vague
fear of all filth as a cause of the disease, and greatly simplifies the means
necessarv to control it. It is true that the filth theorists did much to
prevent cholera, for in their warfare against filth they demanded a
water supply from a source which could not be contaminated, and they
demanded sewers to remove all excremental matter. These great
public improvements make it far easier to control cholera than it was
before their inception. The filth theorists were successful thus far,
because, so far as cholera was concerned, there was a modicum of truth
in their theory.

What has been said of cholera is applicable also to typhoid fever.
This disease is due to a bacillus which does not grow outside of the
body, but is carried in excremental filth just as is the cholera spirillum,
and it must be controlled in just the same way.

The diphtheria bacillus is also strictly parasitic and grows, except
in rare instances, on the mucous membrane of human beings. From
persons so infected it is transmitted to others, usually by means of cups,
spoons, pencils or other articles, or directly by kissing or fondling.
Diphtheria was a few years ago considered a filth disease and was

END OF FILTH THEORY OF DISEASE. 237

often attributed to sewer gas. We now know that the only filth to be
feared is the secretions of infected persons.

Bubonic plague has always been classed as a typical filth disease,
but here again careful laboratory work has resulted in a vastly clearer
knowledge of its causation, though a great deal yet remains to be
learned. The bacillus which causes it was discovered by Kitasato in
] 894 ; and it has been found that it rarely if ever increases in numbers
outside of the body, but rather tends to die ojff, frequently very rapidly.
There is much reason to think that fleas and rats become infected, and
iire important factors in the spread of the disease, though more evi-
dence on this point is to be desired. In any event it is shown to be a
contagious disease, though perhaps not usually directly contagious, and
that it does not develop in filth. We might have a perfectly drained
city, with modern plumbing, efficient scavenging and the purest of
water, yet, if the inhabitants were careless in their habits and opposed
isolation, the disease would spread as in an undrained and poorly
watered city. It might require rats and fleas to cause an epidemic ; but
these animals played no part in the filth theory.

Tuberculosis was never classed as a filth disease, though the intro-
duction of sewers has been held to cause its decrease, it is claimed by
draining the soil. It has, however, been proved to be a bacterial disease,
but the bacillus will not grow outside of the body and has no relation
to filth, except so far as matter expectorated by a consumptive is filth.

Typhus fever, smallpox, scarlet fever, measles and whooping cough
have by some enthusiasts been attributed to filth, but very few observ-
ant persons who have studied the distribution of these diseases and
followed their outbreaks consider them other than purely contagious.
They, of course, never originate in filth or develop in filth, but may
spread more among filthy people just because such persons use very
little soap and water and allow their faces, hands, belongings and
dwellings to become and remain smeared with mucus, saliva, pus and
other infectious material.

Malaria has for centuries been considered to be the product of
decaying vegetable matter, but its true relation to such material has
only recently been discovered. The mosquito is the bearer of the
malarial parasite, which in this case is a protozoan rather than a bac-
terium, and the larvge of the particular species of mosquitoes which
carry this disease live only in shallow pools where they are protected
from their enemies and find an abundance of food. Water which is
really filthy is not congenial to them.

Yellow fever is the one disease which it has been believed could
surely be traced to filth. No disease in this country is so dreaded, and
its supposed dependence upon filth has made it the last stronghold of
the advocates of this theory. It has been held by almost all observers

238 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

that this disease is carried in fomites, t. e., lives outside of the body,
and is thus implanted in new localities, where it develops in a filthy soil,
giving rise to new foci of the disease. We have been taught that
by keeping a city thoroughly clean, yellow fever could be excluded as
it would find no place to grow. Such methods, however, never have
been and never could be successful. We all owe a great debt of grati-
tude to Surgeon Eeed and his associates for teaching us the true method
of combating this disease and dealing a death blow to the filth theory.
By their experiments in which they failed to transmit the disease by
fomites, they showed that the poison, the exact nature of which still
remains unknown, does not live outside of the body and therefore can
not develop in filth. The mosquitoes which transmit this disease do,
unlike the malarial mosquitoes, often breed in filthy water, such aa
cesspools, dirty gutters and the like, and this doubtless is the kernel
of truth in the filth theory of its origin.

Thus one by one the zymotic diseases have been shown to be purely
contagious, and not to have their origin in filth. In not a single one
of these diseases has our more exact knowledge placed its source out-
side of man or other animals. But it may be argued that though the
specific diseases may not arise from filth, we still have to fear the
gaseous products of decomposition, and that the foul emanations from
sewers, vaults and dung-heaps may undermine the health and pave the
way for these diseases. Probably more sins have been attributed to
sewer gas than anything else of this kind, but we now know that the
air of modern sewers and well constructed drains is practically harm-
less. It is true that in confined cesspools and choked drains, injurious
gases like sulphuretted hydrogen, marsh gas or carbon dioxide may be
formed in such quantities as to be fatal to life, but in ordinary sewers
and drains, with their facilities for ventilation and rapid motion of
contents, such accumulations are impossible, and a slight leakage of
sewer air, which was formerly considered so dangerous, has been shown
by the chemists and bacteriologists to be harmless. Foul odors from
manure piles, garbage barrels, soap works or offensive manufactories
are when concentrated intensely annoying and often nauseating to
those who only occasionally breathe them, but those who are constantly
exposed to them do not suffer at all and do not notice them. It is also
observed that plumbers and sewer cleaners are not at all affected by the
odors to which they are exposed. When these odors are slight there is
no reason to think that they affect the health at all, and in any event
the disturbance which they cause is not lasting. The burden of proof
lies with those who claim that the gases of decomposition are a serious
menace to health. Most of the alleged proof relates to the production
of specific diseases like typhus, typhoid and cholera which we now
know can not be caused in any such way. Evidence tried by modern

END OF FILTH THEORY OF DISEASE. 239

methods of scientific enquiry is lacking. Such evidence as we have
shows that those persons who are constantly exposed to the gaseous
products of decomposition do not suffer therefrom.

From whatever point of view this matter is discussed, it must not
be forgotten that the advocates of the filth theory did much good, for
there was a certain amount of truth in the theory. Certain kinds of
filth are conveyors of specific disease, and the efforts to secure better
water, to build good sewers and drains, and promptly remove excreta
from dwellings were true sanitation. The providing of better houses
doubtless conduces to greater personal cleanliness and tends to higher
standards of living. Full credit should be given to early reformers
who labored earnestly according to their knowledge, and accomplished
much good and very little evil. It is only those who in the light of
more accurate knowledge still hold to the crude ideas of an earlier age
with whom the writer would differ.

In abandoning the filth theory we should profit by experience and
not become wedded too closely to the germ theory. We do know much
about bacteria and protozoa and their relation to disease, but vastly
more remains to be learned, and it is much to be feared that too many
seek to enter the sphere of the unknown by hasty speculation rather
than by the slow path of laborious research.

Though abandoning the time honored theory which was taught him,
the wTiter has not abandoned the fight against filth. Filth is a nui-
sance, and is usually an evidence of some one's carelessness of his neigh-
bor's comfort. The state or city should certainly protect its citizens
against such nuisances. Good sewerage, well swept streets, prompt
scavenging, public baths, clean tenements, are all parts, desirable and
essential parts, of our civilization. They would be worth what they cost
even if they had no relation to health; but the proper disposal of
excreta and cleanliness of person doubtless do have much to do with
the prevention of the spread of many communicable diseases. Much is
to be gained by promoting cleanliness, but nothing by fostering false
notions of the dangers of filth.

240 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

EECENT TOTAL ECLIPSES OF THE SUN".

By Professor SOLON I. BAILEY,

HARVARD COLLEGE OBSERVATORY.

NATURE, when in her sublimest moods, is seldom seen without
fear and danger. The tornado furnishes an exhibition full of
weird beauty and scientific interest; yet man, in his haste to reach a
place of safety, has little time for their contemplation. In the total
eclipse of the sun, however, nature provides one spectacle, unsurpassed
in grandeur, which may be observed in perfect safety. There was a
time, indeed, when the chief emotion caused by an eclipse was fear,
that superstitious dread of impending evil, which the presence of the
unknown causes. This has now passed away, with the increase of
knowledge. Perhaps no better illustration of the changed thought of
the world in regard to natural phenomena could be found than
a comparison of the following extracts. The first is from the early
English chroniclers; William of Malmesbury, writing of the eclipse
of March 20, 1140, says:

At the ninth hour of the fourth day of the week, there was an eclipse
throughout England as I have heard. With us, indeed, and with all our neigh-
bors, the obscuration of the sun also was so remarkable that persons sitting
at table, for it was Lent, at first feared that chaos was come again; afterwards,
learning the cause, they went out and beheld the stars around the sun. It was
thought and said by many not untruly that the king would not continue a year
in the government.

The 'New York Herald' of January 2, 1889, announced the eclipse
of the previous day with the following headlines: "The Sun Knocked
Out. After about two minutes it comes up smiling. Viewing
TJiE Eclipse. Clear skies almost universal along the belt of
TOTALITY. Fine photographs taken/" etc., etc.

Scientific study is now the chief attraction of an eclipse, although
its spectacular beauty is appreciated as never before. Many natural
phenomena, which otherwise would attract the systematic attention of
scientists, fail to do this in consequence of the irregularity with which
they occur. An eclipse of the sun, however, can be computed many
years in advance, so that careful plans can be made for its observance.
Even here grave trouble is caused by the uncertainties of meteorological
science. It is a striking and somewhat discouraging fact that, while
one can compute with reasonable accuracy the place and time of an
eclipse a hundred years in advance, he cannot safely predict a single

TOTAL ECLIPSES OF THE SUN. 241

day before the event Avhether the sky will be clear or clouded. Under
these circumstances it is not surprising that many people do not travel
to the scenes of total eclipses. Expeditions to eclipses were practically
unknown until half a century ago. Before that time man received with
varied emotions those which I'rovidence sent him, but did not travel
far to seek them. 'Now, expeditions half way round the earth are com-
mon. This is not due entirely to the greater scientific zeal of thei
present day; probably few living astronomers would care to journey
to the antipodes for an eclipse, under the conditions of travel which
prevailed one or two centuries ago.

About seventy total eclipses of the sun occur each century. The
average duration is, perhaps, three miniites, which amounts to about
three and a half hours per century. If some Wandering Jew, at the
beginning of the Christian era, had started to observe total eclipses of
the sun, and had visited every one possible since that time, he would
have had less than three whole days for observation. The time, indeed,
would have been much less, since many of these eclipses occurred on
the ocean, or at inaccessible regions of the earth, and clouds un-
doubtedly obscured the sky during half the time of totality. During
the last half century, since spectroscopic observations have been carried
on, the time during which an individual could have obtained favorable
observations has been little, if any, more than a single hour. Under
these circumstances the wonder is that it has been possible to accom-
plish so much. Many men, however, have worked at different stations
along the narrow but extended path of totality, and every device which
ingenuity could suggest has been utilized in order to obtain as much as
possible in the brief seconds of totality. ISTothing has contributed so
much to increase the amount and accuracy of the results as photog-
raphy. There is hardly a line of investigation which cannot "be done
more quickly and better by photographic than by visual methods.
Nevertheless it would be a mistake to abandon visual observations
altogether.

It may hardly need to be stated that for the most part scientific
observations of total eclipses have for their object the promotion of
our knowledge about the sun. No one, who understands at all how
intimate is our dependence upon that great body, will question the
wisdom of such efforts. In order to understand why certain problems
can be better studied when the sun's face is covered by the moon, it
may be well to outline our knowledge on the subject.

The sun, the center of our system, is an exceedingly hot, intensely
bright, highly condensed, gaseous body. Its distance is a little less
than 9.'\,000,000 miles. Its volume is more than a million times that
of the earth. Its specific gravity is somewhat greater than that of
water. A gaseous body, denser than water, is something very different

VOL. LX. — 16.

242 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

from our ordinar}' conception of a gas. That which we see, which gives
tlie snn its apparent size, which sends us our light, is known as the
photosphere. This is probably a brilliant shell of metallic clouds float-
ing in an atmosphere of vapors of the same materials. There are cer-
tain details in this photosphere with which we are familiar, such as
l)right patches, known b}^ different names, and sun-spots. For con-
venience we may regard this photosphere and all that it contains as
the Sun, and all that lies outside this shell as the solar atmosphere.
With the sun itself we have little to do in this article, since it can be
better observed on any clear day than at time of eclipse. It is, how-
ever, only at time of total eclipse that we clearly see all those strange
and complex features which make up what we have called the solar
atmosphere. In our study of it, however, we must not be governed
too much by any analogy with our own atmosphere. Lying next to
the body of the sun is a layer of crimson flame, known as the chromo-
sphere, which has a thickness of perhaps 5,000 or 6,000 miles. This
may seem like a great depth for such a sea of fire, but compared with
the enormous size of the sun it is very small indeed, and forms but
a thin rose-colored rim about the edge of the sun. At the bottom of
this is probably the so-called reversing layer. The solar spectrum is
crossed by dark lines due to the elements which there exist. By these
dark absorption lines, which are seen in the ordinary solar spectrum,
the presence is known of many familiar elements. The higher regions
of the chromosphere are less complex and consist in large part of
hydrogen. From these regions, by forces which there operate, great
masses of brilliant colored gas are throwTi upward to enormous dis-
tances, in general 10,000, or 20,000 miles, but often much higher, even
to 200,000 or 300,000 miles. Eesting also on the photosphere is the
corona, which extends its pearly light outward from the sun to immense
distances which must be reckoned in millions of miles.

The different parts of the solar atmosphere are brightly luminous,
and stand forth in splendid beauty at the instant of totality. The
only reason why we do not see them on any clear day is that they are
lost in the blinding light of the central sun. The sun's face must be
shut out. This service is rendered by the moon at an eclipse. At
other times the chief trouble is not that the sun shines directly into
our eyes, since a piece of cardboard could be so placed as to cut off the
rays. The real difficulty arises from the presence of our atmosphere,
which becomes so bright from the diffused light of the sun, that the
solar appendages are lost to view. This will be apparent from the
daily phenomenon of the appearance by night, and the disappearance
by day, of the stars. They are shining just as brightly by day as by.
night, and could be seen perfectly well if the atmosphere were removed
for a moment.

TOTAL ECLIPSES OF THE SUN. 243

C)ne of tlie most siiccessfiilh- observed of recent eclipses was that
of Ma}^ 28, ] 900. The duration of totality was only two minutes, but
almost perfect weather prevailed everywhere. It was visited by a large
number of skilled observers, and an examination of the work per-
formed and attempted will give a good idea of what astronomers at
the present day hope to learn about the sun at times of total eclipse.
As stated above, the ordinary solar spectrum consists of a bright band
crossed by dark absorption lines due to a reversing layer present in the
chromosphere. At the eclipse of 1870, Professor C. A. Young, who was
watching the spectrum of the fast disappearing sun , saw, at the instant
when the last bit of the photosphere was covered by the moon, the
solar spectrum with its dark lines replaced by a spectrum composed
of bright lines. This phenomenon, from the suddenness of its appear-
ance became known as the 'Flash.' The 'flash' spectrum is one of the
most interesting features of a total eclipse. The depth of the flash
layer is very small, and the duration of its greatest intensity very
brief, since it is covered by the moon after two or three seconds. To
obtain good photogi-aphs of this phenomenon is somewhat difficult.
This has been accomplished, however, at the eclipses of 1896 and 1898,
and, especially, by several observers, at the eclipse of 1900. Several
kinds of spectroscopes are in use. Ordinarily an astronomical spec-
troscope consists of a telescope, a narrow slit, a train of prisms, and a
small telescope which brings the spectrum to the eye or to the photo-
graphic plate. When the object which is to be examined has an area
like the sun the use of a slit cannot be avoided. When the source of
light is a point, or a narrow line of light, there is no such necessity and
the more simple apparatus, known as the slitless spectroscope, or
objective prism, may be used. This consists of a prism placed over the
lens of the telescope and a photographic plate at the focus. Instead of
the prism or prisms a diffraction grating may be used. Professor
Pickering, the director of the Harvard Observatory, has obtained for
many years fine spectra of the stars by this method, which is an
adaptation of the original method of Fraunhofer. An apparatus of
this sort used in eclipse work is known as a 'prismatic camera.' It is
evident that this form of spectroscope could not be successfully used
on the uneclipsed sun, since the resulting spectrum would be simply a
confused mass of colored light. There must be a slit, but in the case
of total eclipse, nature furnishes it. As the moon at such times has an
apparent diameter greater than that of the sun, it is readily seen that
at the instant before the moon's disc completely covers the sun there
will remain a very narrow crescent of light. At the instant after
totality has begun the photosphere will be entirely covered, but for two
or three seconds the thin line of chromospheric light remains in view.
The two spectra taken at these moments, the one an instant before

244

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

O

O
M

o

05

5

H
C
H

H

«
H

Ph

o
m

!i<

W

o

P5

03

o

t»
a;

b
O
M

n

o

o
o
w

«

H

hi
1=4

TOTAL ECLIPSES OF THE SUN. 245

and the other an instant after, the beginning of totality have been
called the 'cusp' and the 'flash' spectrum. A similar pair occur, of
course, Avhen totality ends, but in reverse order. Figure 1 shows an
enlarg'.Mnent of a portion of the cusp spectrum at third contact. This
photograph was made by Professor E. B. Frost, of the Yerkes Observa-
tory, at the eclipse of 1900. It furnishes an opportunity to compare
directly tlie dark linos of the ordinary solar spectrum with the bright
lines of the chromosphere. It is of the gTeatest interest to learn
whether the two series of lines are identical, in whole or in part, though
reversed, and in any case to study the characteristics of these bright
lines. This photograph was made about ten seconds after the end of
totality. The thin line of the photosphere, which had then emerged
from behind the inoon, was drawn out by the prism into the bright
band, which constitutes the larger portion of the picture. This is the
ordinary solar spectrum. It T^^ill be noted that while in spectra as
usually seen the lines are straight, since a straight slit is used, here the
lines are arcs, since nature furnishes a crescent of light. An examina-
tion of these dark arcs shows that in nearly all cases they become bright
lines at the upper edge of the spectrum. This 'reversal'" is due to the
fact that just beyond the point where the crescent of sunshine ceased,
was a small extension of the chromosphere, which was not covered by the
moon. The precise determination of all the facts, which this and other
similar photographs teach, is one of the important problems of total
eclipses. The problem is somewhat complicated, as pointed out by
Professor Frost; for although few dark arcs can be seen which do not
terminate in a bright tip the curvature and position appear to be
slightly different in some cases for the bright lines. Figure 2 shows
the 'flash'" spectra made at the second contact, that is, at the beginning
of totality. The sun is entirely hidden by the moon, and all the lines
which appear are doubtless due to the chromosphere. Certain irregu-
larities, or "Ininches,' in the arcs, however, are due to solar promi-
nences. From an examination of these and other photographs Pro-
fessor Frost has measured and identified several hundred lines, and
has reached the following conclusions: "At least 60 per cent, (and
probably many more) of the stronger dark lines of the solar spectrum
are found to be bright in a stratum not exceeding (for the majority
of the lines) 1", or less than 500 miles in height above the solar
photosphere. There is moreover no reason in general to suppose that
this is not equally true of the fainter lines. Therefore we may regard
the existence of a reversing layer at the base of the chromosphere as
fully confirmed by the photographs."' These results are especially
important since they contradict to some extent those which have been
previously obtained, ^^'hile the elevation of the strata which produce
the most of tlie lines is less than 500 miles, the height of other gases

246

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

above the photosphere is as great as 4,000 miles. The bright lines are
identified as belonging to iron, titanium, chromium, hydrogen and other
elements. Tlie origin of some of the lines is unknown.

Although no other time may be so favorable for the study of the
reversing layer as at total eclipses, the chromosphere and prominences
may nevertheless be well studied on any clear day.

In connection with the eclipse of 1868 Janssen and Lockyer each in-
dependently discovered that by spectroscopic means the light of the
chromosphere and prominences may be so separated from that of the
sky as to become visible without an eclipse. The light from the region
just outside the sun's limb is composed of skylight and the light of
the solar atmosphere. Each is about equally bright. When this com-
bined light is passed through a prism, that due to the sky is spread
out into a continuous surface, thus becoming much fainter, while that
due to the chromosphere or prominence, from its gaseous nature, is
collected into bright bands, which thus surpass the skylight in in-
tensity and may be seen or photographed. This line of work has been

Fig. 3. Gkkat Kkii'tivk I'imim i nence.
With Hale Spectkoheliookapii. Made
March 25, 1895, lOh. 34 m. A.M.

V\i. 1, i.ki.n Va[\ iti\ i; 1'i:(imim:m I.. W ri u
Hale Spectkoheliouraph. Made March
25, 1895, lOh. 58n3., A. M.

greatly extended by different scientists, notably by Hale, of this
country, who, by a device knowDi as the spectro-heliograph, has suc-
ceeded in maki]ig, ^A'ithout an eclipse, photographs showing all the
pro;minences surrounding the sun and the details of the solar surface
at the same time. These photographs are made in monochromatic
light. They represent what would be seen if the eye were sensitive to
light of the wave-length of the K line only. Figures 3 and 4 show a
great eruptive prominence photographed by Professor Hale, March 25,
1895. The interval between the two photographs was 24 minutes, dur-
ing wliich time the prominence was thrown upward from a height of

TOTAL ECLIPSES OF THE SUN. 247

135,000 miles to 281,000 miles. This implies a velocity of at least 100
miles per second.

At times of total eclipse it is perhaps possible to obtain better
photographs showing finer details than can be made under other con-
ditions. Figure 5 is an enlargement of a photograph made at the
eclipse of 1900, by Professor E. E. Barnard, assisted by Mr. G. W.
Kitchey. It shows a mass of prominences at the southwest quadrant of
the sun. Along the iiTCgular limb of the moon, which appears black,
is seen the ragged storm-tossed surface of the chromosphere, of in-
creasing depth toward the right owing to the moon's position at the
instant of the exposure. Thrown up from this are the vast fantastic
masses of the prominences or 'red flames.' They remind us of pic-
tures which show the effects produced by the explosion of submarine
torpedoes. The larger mass at the left rises to the height of 60,000

Fig. 5. Solar Peojiinences. Eclipse of May 28, 1900. Photographed with a Telescope
OF 6 Inches Aperture and 614 feet Focus, by Profes.sor Barnard and Mr. Ritchey.

miles. This photograph was made with a telescope of only six inches
aperture and six and a half feet focal length, a small instrument
compared with some which have been used at recent eclipses. The
writer has seen no other photograph of prominences, however, which,
in delicacy of detail, surpasses the one here shown.

The single feature of a total eclipse which can be seen jind studied
only at such times is the corona. In early ages small mention
was made of the corona. Apparently the dread of impending evil
overwhelmed man, and prevented careful observations. As fear dis-
appeared and scientific interest grew, attention was drawn to the 'red
flames,' and at nearly the same time to the beautiful halo of light
which has been fittingly named the 'corona.' Since that time the
favorable moments of totality have been too few to clear up the mystery
of its nature. Reasoning from the methods which have made the
study of the chromosphere and prominences possible without an eclipse,
various attempts have been also made to thus observe and photograph
the corona. The simplest way would be by direct vision or photog-
raphy. There is no doubt but that, if we could remove for a moment
the earth's atmosphere, whose glare interferes with our vision, we

248 POPULAH SCIENCE MONTHLY.

should be able to see the chromosphere, prominences and corona with-
out any artificial aid. The brightness of the inner corona is about the
same as' that of the ordinary sky near the sun. If then one could find

I Fig. 6. Solar Cokona. Eclipse of 1889. Near Sunspot Minimim. Harvard Eclipse
Party, Willows, California.

Fig. 7. Solar Corona. Eclipse of 1930. Near ScS'spot Minimim. Made by Mr. C A.
R. LuNDiN at Southern Pines, N. C.

a locality where the sky was extraordinarily clear, he uiight hope, by
placing a shield in front of the sun itself, to see these fainter features.
The writer of this article made an attempt several years ago in this

TOTAL ECLIPSES OF THE SUN.

249

way on the summit of El Misti, Peru, at an elevation of 19,300
feet. At this altitude one-half the earth's atmosphere is below
the observer and that which remains is of extraordinary clearness.
Photographs were made of the region immediately about the sun, using
an opaque disc to protect the plate from the sun's direct image. The
true corona did not appear upon the plates. Other methods promised
better results, such as the use of monochromatic light, presumably
that of the line 'K 1474.' Experiments in this line have been carried
on by Professor Hale with skill and enthusiasm on the summit of
Pike's Peak, on Mount Etna and elsewhere, but without success. He
has also attempted to solve the difficulty by a study pi the heat, using
the bolometer. Recent investigations given below explain the failure

FiG.S. Soi.AK Corona. Eclipse of 1893. Near Scnspot Maximum. Made by Peofessoe

J. M. SCHAEBERLE, LiCK OBSERVATORY.

of this method. The polarization of the coronal light also suggests a
method which has not vet vielded successful results. Although the
future may furnish the solution, none of the attempts yet made has
])een successful, aiid for the present our only knowledge of the corona
must be obtained from what can be learned during the brief moments
of total eclipses. Good photographs of the corona can be easily and
rapidly made and if an abundance of these were alone necessary our
knowledge would be well advanced. The general features of the
corona have a certain permanence. Comparatively slight changes are
known to take place during the three or four hours while an eclipse is
passing over the surface of the earth. There may be, however, finer
details than are shown on the best photographs jQt obtained, which

2 so POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

would give witness to more rapid changes. From year to year large
changes in the form of the corona occur and these appear to be asso-
ciated with the sun-spot period. Tliis is a natural inference, especially
since the solar prominences are thus associated. This is well shown
by a comparison of the form of the corona in 1889 and 1900, wliich
occurred near the sun-spot minimum, with the form in 1893, which
was near sun-spot maximum. These are given in Figures 6, 7 and 8.
The equatorial streamers and the divergent polar streamers are much
more pronounced at the time of sun-spot minimum. At maximimi the
corona is more nearly circular. The polar streamers are beautifully
shown in Figure 9, a photograph made by the eclipse party, which
was under the direction of Secretary Langley, of the Smithsonian In-
stitution. The true nature of the corona and the complex changes
which it undergoes are unknown. The spectroscope is the magician's
wand which science generally uses to reveal the constitution of un-
known objects, but in this case the revelation is only partial. In 1869
Professor Young found the spectrum to be characterized by a bright
line in the green, which he identified as Kirchhoff's line 1474. The
unknown substance which produces this line has been given the name
'coronium.' There are also other less conspicuous bright lines. When
the name 'helium' was assigned to the origin of certain lines in the
solar spectrum, no such terrestrial substance was known. Later it was
found by Eamsay. A similar issue for coronium would be very accept-
able. The corona also yields a faint continuous spectrum, in which
Janssen and others have reported certain dark lines of the solar spec-
trum. This signifies, that in addition to luminous gases, giving a
spectrum of bright lines, the corona contains some substance, like a
cloud, which is capable of reflecting ordinary sunlight. A part of the
light appears to be polarized. It is thought by some observers that
there is also a bright continuous spectrum free from dark lines. If
true, this would imply a three-fold origin to the coronal light. For
the explanation of the corona we have the diffraction theory of Has-
tings, the mechanical theory of Schaeberle, the magnetic theory of
Bigelow, and others. The complete solution of the problem is of the
greatest difficulty and of the greatest importance. At the eclipse of
1900 some experiments with that remarkable instrument, the bolometer,
appear to throw new light on this subject. These experiments were
made by Secretary Langley's chief assistant, Mr. C. I. Abbott, who
reached the following conclusions :

These observations indicate not only that the coronal radiation is very
slight, but that the apparent temperature of the inner corona is below 20° C.
For it will be noticed that the bolometer lost heat hy radiation to the corona,
as evidenced by a negative deflection. Hence, when we consider its visual
photometric brightness at the point where the bolometric measures were taken,

TOTAL ECLIPSES OF THE SUN.

251

which, judging bj- llie results obtained by several observers during the eclipses
of 1870, 1878, and 1898, was at least equal to that of the full moon, it is diffi-
cult to understand how the light of the corona can be due largely to reflection
of rays from the sun, or even to the incandescence of dust particles, for from
sources of these kinds, which emit a great preponderance of invisible infra-red
rays, the bolometer would have given large positive deflections. . . The im-
portant result of a comparison of the radiations of the inner corona, the full
moon, and the daylight sky somewhat remote from the sun is that while the
three are roughly of equal visual brightness, the corona is effectively a cool and
far from intense source, while the moon and sky are effectively warm and many
fold richer in radiation. Hence it would appear plausible that the corona
merely sends out visible rays and that its light is not associated with the great
preponderance of long wave-length rays proper to tlie radiation from bodies at
a high temperature. If this be so the coronal radiation might be compared
with that from the positive electrical discharge in vacuum tubes, in which, as
researches of K. Angstrom and R. W. Wood, have shown, there is neither an
infra-red spectrum nor a high temperature.

Fig. 9. South Polar Stkeameks. Eclipse of 1900. PiiuTotiRAPHED with a Telescope
OF 135 FEET Focal Length by Mr. Smillie, of the Smithsonian Eclip.se Party.

These conclusions are of so great importance that it is very de-
sirable that the observations upon which they depend, should be
repeated at other eclipses. It is, therefore, very unfortunate that Mr.
Abbott at the recent eclipse at Sumatra was prevented by clouds from
carrying out the observations wliicli he had traveled so far to obtain.
Other observers, however, were no more fortunate. Professor E. E.
Barnard was provided with a telescope of 611^ feet focus, and with
plates forty inches square, but was prevented by clouds from obtain-
ing results of much value. This was the fate, also, of many other
observers from different countries, who had taken stations in different
parts of Sumatra. Results of value were obtained, however, by the
party from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, whose photo-
graphs of the corona are unsurpassed. At the Island of Mauritius,
also, the English astronomers obtained valuable results. As a whole

252 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the eclipse of 1901 probably failed to add much to our knowledge of
the sun.

Aside from the problems relating to the sun's constitution, there
is still outstanding the question as to the existence of an intra-
mercurial planet. This problem can be studied to much greater
advantage at total eclipses than at other times. Photographic charts
can be made of the whole region about the sun during totality. An
examination of several sets of such photographs, taken at different
eclipses, should confirm or ref^^te the existence of such a planet. For
greater certainty the sky should be photographed in duplicate at each
eclipse. Although sufficient material for the decision of this question
could apparently he accumulated rapidly, this has not yet been accom-
plished for a variety of reasons. At the eclipse of 1900, several parties
were provided with apparatus especially planned for this work. The
weather was everywhere perfect, but accidents of one kind or another
affected the results. The Smithsonian party, however, obtained pho-
tographs, one of which showed stars fainter than the eighth magnitude.
Several suspicious objects Avere found on these plates, which remain
unconfirmed, owing to the failure of other attempts. This and other
questions, which, it was hoped, would be decided by the eclipse of 1901,
must await some later eclipse for their solution.

To-day, although much is known about the sun, its deeper secrets
are yet unraveled. The foundations of physical science appear, in-
deed, to be somewhat shaken. It is hinted that molecules and atoms
are, after all, but 'convenient fictions,' signifying, perhaps, that the
human mind is not capable of grasping the ultimate conditions of
matter. We hear of corpuscles, wliich are inconceivably small 'frag-
ments of atoms.' These corpuscles are carriers of electricity. It may
be that in this line lies the explanation of many terrestrial, solar, and
even cosraical, phenomena.

FiaiZ-Jl fi/VCON

ra I fiy

:y..ry.

t/ 'ti liia'j t ijsi by Rytc^at-d, ^c(0e<j^'-io Lnnc Acre,

FRIAR ROGER BACON. 255

FRIAR ROGER BACON.

By EDWARD S. HOLDEN, LL.D.

A RECENT perusal of the published works of Bacon leads me to
attempt to set forth, in this place, something of his life and of
his times. He is, beyond a doubt, one of the great illustrations
of our race. Let us in the first place set down the facts of his
checquered life in a story, without seeking too deeply for the causes
of his defeats and perils. It will be time enough to examine the
reasons when we know the results. He was born of a good and wealthy
family, in England, between the years 1210 and 1215. He first
appears in history in the 3'ear 1233. King Henry the Third had just
listened, at Oxford, to a long sermon and to reprimands from a relative
of Bacon's — probably an uncle — who charged the king to dismiss from
his council Pierre Des Roches, Bishop of Winchester, who was hated
by the English. A young clerk — it was Bacon — dared to address the
king with this audacious raillery, says Matthew Paris in his chronicle.

"Seigneur Roi, savez-vous les dangers qu'on a le plus a redouter quand
on navigue au-dela de la mer ?

"Ceux-la le savent, repartit Henri, qui ont I'habitude de ces voyages.

"Eh bien, je vais vous le dire, reprit le clerc, ce sont les pierres et les
roches — et il voulait designer par la Pierre Des Roches, I'eveque de Winchester. '

Bold and reckless speaking regardless of consequences was a life-
long characteristic of Bacon, and the first and only anecdote that we
have represents him bold with kings, as he afterwards was bold
towards popes, cardinals, generals of his order, doctors of the church
and the society in which he lived. It may, for a moment, seem to us
tc be a merit. In sad fact, it was never so in his life, and it led to his
undoing.

He learned this temerity from a great man wdio was his master at
Oxford and afterwards the illustrious Bishop of Lincoln, Robert
Grossteste, the first English scholar of his time — he who browbeat
the pope and called him 'heretic' and 'anti-Christ.' Robert was
Superior of the Franciscans at Oxford and lectured there on optics.
Athelard of Bath, the first translator of Euclid, was not forgotten in
those schools, which were then marked by great intellectual freedom
and by a strong leaning towards science.

Here Bacon passed years in ardent research. He mastered all the
book learning of the schools — philosophy and mathematics; and ex-

256 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

pended; he tells us, something like £2,000 (probably French pounds)
in his experiments in natural philosoph}-, chemistry and astronomy.
Experimental science v.as a new thing and Bacon may well claim to
be its founder, though Ptolem}^ experimented on refraction, Galen on
the nerves and muscles and the Arabs in various branches of science.

About the year 1240 Bacon became a friar of the order of St.
Francis. If he had seen clearlj', his career was made. Albertus Mag-
nus and his great pupil, Thomas Aqiiinas, were the lights of the
Dominican Order. The Franciscans would have welcomed and hon-
ored a champion who was the superior of Albert and the equal, or
almost the equal, of Aquinas. But Bacon had only rough and bitter
criticisms for all monks — Franciscans and Dominicans alike. His was
an original and hardy genius ; and he proved himself a merciless critic
of all celebrities, of every accepted method and conclusion. Alexander
of Hales, Doctor Irrefragabilis, was the oracle of the Franciscans.
Of his Summa Theologies, Bacon says: It was a load for a horse —
true — but — the reputed author did not write it. Albertus Magnus
■wrote libraries of books: All of them that were of any account, says
Bacon, could be put in a single volume. Aquinas is vir erroneus et
famosus. Of the other doctors, Michael Scot, he says, knew no Greek,
Gerhard of Cremona, not even Latin, and William of Morbecke, the
friend of Aquinas, was the most ignorant of all. St. Augustine and
Origen were full of errors, and St. Jerome did not always understand
the scriptures he translated.

"Never was there so great an appearance of wisdom, nor so much
exercise of study as for this last forty years. Doctors are everywhere,
in every castle, in every ' burgh, especially the students of the two
Orders (Franciscan and Dominican). And yet there never was so
much ignorance and error." He condemned the current versions of
Aristotle — retranslations from the Arabic of translations once made
into Syriac bv Nestorian monks. "The common herd of students," he
says, "mope and make asses of themselves over their bad translations
and waste their time, their trouble and their money." In fact, he
declares, "What the mass of men believe is necessarily false." As for
the works of Aristotle, he would burn them all.

It is no wonder that Bacon was disciplined and imprisoned in Paris
during the }ears 1257 to 1267. How severe his punishment was we
shall never know. A part of it was rigorous. He was forbidden books
and copyists, kept on bread and water. At times, however, he had
pupils, copyists and some slight degree of liberty. He was condemned
by a council of his order propter quasdam novitates suspectas — in
reality because his harsh and innovating spirit diffused uneasiness all
about him. It is charitable if we do not pronounce him envious. With
Albertus Magnus and Aquinas he made up a trio of really great men,

FRIAR ROGER BACON. 257

but he has no good words for either of them or for their works and
^\ays. The men of no century have listened willingly to criticism de-
livered in this temper. That his strictures were substantially just did
not make them more acceptable in Bacon's case, nor four centuries
later, in the case of Galileo. It was of no avail that his life was pure,
that he had not sinned against the faith, that he had not rebelled
against authority. His real offence was the censorious temper which
made him enemies on every hand.

A new opportunity came to Bacon with the election of Guy
Foulques (Clement IV.) to the papacy. The new pope had been a
soldier, a learned jurisconsult, and Secretary of Saint Louis, before
taking religious orders. While he was legate of the reigning pope in
England he heard that Bacon was writing a treatise on the reforma-
tion of learning, and on many occasions he endeavored to communicate
with him by letters which were intercepted by the Franciscans. In
the second year of his own pontificate (1266) the new pope. Head of
the Church, succeeded in sending a letter to Bacon by private hand.
The letter orders Bacon "in the name of our apostolic authority and
notwithstanding any injunctions to the contrary from any prelate
whatsoever, and notwithstanding the constitution of your Order, to
send, without delay, a copy of the work for which we asked at the time
of our legation into England"; and the pope especially charges his
correspondent that all this should be done "with all the secrecy pos-
sible." What a commentary upon the strictness of Bacon's imprison-
ment is this letter from the Head of the Church, the successor of St.
Peter, with power to bind and loose ! If it exhibits the persecution
of Bacon, the power of the Orders, the penances of fasts and macera-
tions, the misery of the prisoner, it also exhibits in the best and
strongest light the existence in the Church of enlightened and gen-
erous spirits. Everything in the picture is not dark.

Bacon was released in 1267 by order of the pope who had then re-
ceived his Opns Majus, and he returned to Oxford to find his group
of noble friends dispersed or dead. Here he resumed his studies, his
writings, his criticisms, his bitter and censorious polemics.

His protector, Clement IV., died in 1268 and the new pope soon
had good reason to distrust the English friar. Bacon vehemently
attacked the orders, the pope, the court at Eome, the prelates, the
laics, the clerks, the doctors of the Church, the theologians. He
swept the world clean of friends and followers. "Consider," he says,
'•'every rank of society and you shall find an infinite corruption every-
where, beginning at the summit. The court at Rome is dominated by
the Civil Law * * * ^.j^jg sa(.j.g(j geat is the prey of crime and
deceit, justice is perishing, peace is violated, pride reigns, avarice
bums there, gluttony corrupts manners, envy eats their hearts, luxury

VOL. LX. — 17.

258 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

dishonors the entire Court of the Papacy. * * * And the pre-
lates! consider how eager they are for riches, how indifferent to the
care of souls, * * * rpj^^ religious (of the orders) are no better,
and I except no Order whatsoever. * * * This people of clerks
are a prey to pride, luxury and avarice. Everywhere, as at Paris and
Oxford, they scandalize the laics * * * j^y their vices."

What remedy for this horrible state of things? What examples
of holy living and dying does Bacon put forth for imitation? Why,
the ancients like Zeno and Seneca, pagans all, and infidels like Avi-
cenna, Alfarabius and the rest ! We seem to hear the murmurs of
the Renaissance in the words of this monk of the thirteenth century. If
the church will not purge herself of evil he predicts the coming of
the Tartars or the Saracens. In reality he was foretelling the Ref-
ormation. Terrible words like these led to his own imprisonment,
again at Paris, in the year 1278. This time his punishment was strict.
He was not released until a liberal general of his Order sent him home
in 1293, an old man of some eighty years, to die in peace at Oxford.

The story of his life is told. Henceforward we are concerned only
with the debt which modern science owes to him. But there are two
errors into which we must not fall. In the first place those dark ages
were not without illumination. Consider the group of great and
liberal men who were Bacon's companions at Oxford in his early years,
and that other group of free spirits at Paris. Consider the patience
with which a pope tries for years to lighten his lot and the generosity
with which he sets him free at last. Consider that the same history
is almost exactly repeated by the enlightened general of his order
who releases him in 1292.

And, again, let us see what were, in all likelihood, the suspect
novelties for which he was punished. Like all the great and small of
his time Bacon believed in astrology — in the influence of the stars
upon the destinies of men. Was not Christianity itself ushered in
by the portent of the Star of Bethlehem? An idea adopted from the
Arab Albumazar, that the advent and continuance of religions de-
pend upon the conjunctions of the planets, was his ruin. Christianity
came in, he said, with a conjunction of Jupiter and Mercury, and all
religions were to disappear at a future conjunction of Jupiter and
the moon. This is the suspect novelty for which he was condemned
by a chapter of his order; and who shall say that he was not justly
condemned? If it were allowable in a superstitious age to cast horo-
scopes and to reckon up the influence of stars upon the fate of in-
dividuals, it would have been monstrous and suicidal for the church
to agree that religions were subject to purely natural laws and con-
junctions. N^o church could fail to strike home when threatened with

FRIAR ROGER BACON. 259

extinction in this material fashion. Bacon is no martyr of science.
He was punished for an attack on the very nature and existence of
the church itself; for setting up a natural law to govern and limit
the things of the spirit.

Owing to the horror which was felt by the writers of that age for
the heresies of Bacon, his influence was very small. While Albertus
Magnus was entertaining kings, and while Aquinus was the honored
expounder of ecclesiastical doctrine, their contemporary and peer was
languishing in confinement. His immense work was done in spite of
his disgrace. His pupils received his doctrines and through them his
ideas gained currency. His writings are scarcely mentioned by the
authors of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, but we know of at
least three cases in which they exerted a profound influence. The
admirable doctrine of optics set forth in his work on perspective was
known to Descartes, beyond a doubt, and cannot have failed to direct
the thoughts of the philosopher to whom we owe the foundation of our
modern theories. Again, Paul of Middleburg was deeply concerned
with the reform of the calendar, and in his treatise on the subject
made great use of Bacon's writings. It was Paul that suggested to
Copernicus the need of more accurate tables of the planets, and we
may fairly say that Bacon's labors came to fruition in the heliocentric
theory of the world. Finally, a long passage in his Opus majus, treat-
ing of the probable proximity of Spain and India, was literally trans-
ferred (without credit) to the Imago Mundi of Peter d'Ailly. It is
Columbus himself, in a letter to the King and Queen of Spain, who
cites this passage as one of the authorities that put it into his mind to
venture on his great voyage. Truly ideas do not die, and those of
Bacon have made great changes in this little world of ours.

We may pass over his influence upon the metaphysical controversies
of his time, though it was not small. He was thoroughly versed in
scholastic dialectic and was much concerned to combat the pantheistic
theories of Averroes and his school. He is of the strictest sect of the
Nominalists, with a reasonable practicality all his own. "The prevalent
view," he says, "is that universals exist only in the mind. Yet two
stones would be like one another even though there should be no mind
to perceive them. But it is precisely this likeness of the two stones
that constitutes their universal." How modern it sounds ! How crisp
and neat, like a French logician. With Bacon as with others whom we
call the ancients, we perpetually meet the modern note. A man's
character is his fate was not written by Taine or Stendhal, but by
Heracleitus five centuries before the Christian era.

Bacon proposed to Clement IV. the reform of the calendar in
sagacious and artfully presented terms. He points out to the pope
the errors of the accepted lunar tables, and proves that after a series

26o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of years the moon will be a full moon in the sky, but a new moon in
the calendar. Nothing could be neater than the presentation of this
dilemma.

Bacon understood the theory of vision, the anatomy of the eye and
much of the physiology of perception, as well as the theory of lenses
and of the simple microscope. He did not combine two lenses to make
a telescope, but he was on the high road to it. His works on alchemy
were undertaken in the same scientific spirit, though in the infancy
of chemistry they led to few results of value. Gunpowder he knew,
very likely through the Arabs or the Greeks of Constantinople, who
had it from the east. The children of his time played with it, he says.

No better example of the experimental method imagined and ex-
tolled by Bacon can be given than an analysis of his brilliant demon-
stration of the nature of the rainbow. Let the experimenter, he says,
first consider the cases in which he finds the same colors; as in the
hexagonal prisms of Iceland spar, for example. By looking into these
he will see the rainbow hues. Many think that these arise from some
special virtue of the stones, or from their hexagonal figure. Let the
experimenter therefore go on and he shall find the same colors in other
stones of other shapes, as well as in the drops of water dashed from
oars in the sunshine, and the like. All these are instances like the
phenomenon of rainbow colors. With regard to the form of the bow
he is still more precise. He bids us measure the altitude of the bow
and of the sun and note that the center of the bow is exactly opposite
to the sun. He explains its circular form — its independence of the
form of the raincloud — its moving when we move — its flying when we
follow — by its consisting of reflections from a vast multitude of minute
drops of rain. In the iris shown by the spray of a waterfall we may
see the whole circle. In the sky the plane of the horizon comes in to
interfere. Each drop of rain in the cloud is to be regarded as a
spherical mirror.

His views of the nature of force are expansions of those held
vaguely by Democritus and Lucretius. A body is a center of force
from which energies radiate in every direction. Every action is ac-
companied by a reaction, and there is an interchange of force between
all bodies of the universe. The propagation of force, of light for ex-
ample, requires time. "There is no substance on which the action
involved in the passage of a ray may not produce a change. Thus it
is that rays of heat or sound penetrate the walls of a vessel of gold or
brass. In any case, there are many dense bodies which altogether in-
terfere with the visual and otlier senses of man so that rays cannot
pass so as to produce an effect on human sense and yet, nevertheless,
rays do really pass, though without our being aware of it." These pre-
cise statements were mere words to his contemporaries and could not

FRIAR ROGER BACON. 261

have been completely understood before the beginning of our own cen-
tury. The note is that of Count Rumford or, at earliest, of Newton
and Huyghens,

That learning might be reformed, he proposed the study of the
comparative grammar of Greek, Arabic, Latin and Hebrew, the assidu-
ous collection of ancient manuscripts and the ardent study of the
classics. Here is the distinctive note of the Renaissance. But if the
study of ancient books be so important how much more imperative is
the study of the book of Nature !

I call experimental science, says Bacon, that which neglects argu-
mentation; for the strongest arguments prove nothing so long as they are
uot verified by experience.

Experimental science does not receive truth from the hands of the higher
sciences; it is she who is the mistress; the others are but her handmaids.

She has the right to command; for she alone certifies and consecrates
their results.

Experimental science is then the Queen of the sciences and the limit
of all speculation.

Physicists should know that their science is impotent if they do not
utilize the power of mathematics, without which observation grows weak and
incapable of any certitude.

These sentences selected at random out of whole chapters epitomize
the teachings of Francis Bacon three centuries later and bring us near to
the viewpoint of Helmholtz or Lord Kelvin.

Bacon had already begun the application of his absolutely new
method and he has a clear vision of what may be accomplished in the
future. After the mere facts of nature are discovered, he says, the
laws back of the facts will be brought to light. When they are once
known, the work of speculation will be completed. Man is to be the
master of the world and his will is to govern. "Machines will be
invented to navigate the seas without rowers; to traverse the land
with unimaginable velocity; to fly with artificial wings; to walk on
the bottom of the seas without danger; to bridge rivers without piers
or columns.'^ We are yet very far from a complete conquest of
nature, but the nineteenth century has seen the accomplishment of
each of these visions of the astonishing monk of the thirteenth.

The entire work of Bacon is summed up in two insights of widely
different character and of the first importance. Either of them is a
title to enduring fame. He was the first of men to expose the essential
infertility of scholastic philosophy; and he was the originator of
the inductive methods that characterize modern science. If we set
down in detail the matured judgments of our own time upon the
scholasticism of the thirteenth century we shall find that each and
every one of them was fully anticipated by Bacon; that he clearly

262 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

saw all its weaknesses and defects; and that he enforced his insight by
constant, bold, vigorous and searching criticism. If we analyze the
scientific methods of Galileo, Huyghens and Newton we shall find
that, in their large lines, they are the same as those of the Experi-
mental Science based upon mathematics, of which Bacon was the first
inventor and almost the only exponent for three hundred years

The thirteenth century, as a whole, received its full expression in
the works of Albertus Magnus. We can only comprehend the admi-
rable independence and originality of Bacon's mind when we have
compared him, point by point, with his great rival. They are literally
worlds apart. One epitomizes the old world; the other foretells the
new. Seen in this summary way Bacon appears a lusus naturce — as
a man born quite out of his own time; and he is usually so regarded.
When, however, we consider his whole career with a minuteness that
has been impossible in this short sketch, we discover that the seeds of
the rich harvest of his mind were sown by his great teacher, Eobert
of Lincoln; that in Paris Peter of Mericourt — the author of De
Magnete, from which Gilbert of Colchester derived many of his ideas
— was his master in experimental science; and that both in Oxford
and Paris he found many kindred spirits. We have proofs, therefore,
that in the first half of the thirteenth century there were at least two
companies of open-minded and liberal scholars. The fame of Bacon's
lectures at the universities testifies to the existence of the same spirit
in other large companies. It is only because the annals of the time
are so deficient, and especially because the history of that time has been
written by the Dominicans, his enemies, that we cannot adduce other
specific instances, with names and dates, to demonstrate more fully
that Bacon had the fellowship of men of his own stamp; that, in a
strict sense he was the highest product of his age; that he was not, at
least for half his life, utterly isolated. Until we understand these condi-
tions we cannot comprehend his true relations to his age. At
the beginning of the century there was a striving towards sound learn-
ing— a veritable revival — of which Bacon is the highest exponent. We
are not concerned to here exhibit how and why the spirit of the century
changed when its years were half run out.

If his career could have been, like that of Albertus Magnus,
molded into a reasonable conformity to the spirit of his time, his works
would have also been the text-books of the schools of the thirteenth
century; his influence would have been immense and immediate; the
revival of learning would have dated from Bacon, not from Petrarch;
the foundations of modem science would have been firmly laid three
centuries before Copernicus. Why these changes were not to be is ex-
plained by his character: and his character was his fate.

LAMARCK, THE FOUNDER OF EVOLUTION. 26

o

LAMARCK, THE FOUNDER OF EVOLUTION.*

By Professor W. H. DALL.

TT is now nearly a century since Lamarck published the outlines of
-*- his theory of evolution by descent with modifications transmitted
by heredity and initiated by dynamic impulses; originating in the
mass of animals from the environment, and in the higher and more
intelligent groups partly from within the developing organism itself.

Met by the ridicule and unfriendly criticisms of the 'creationists,'
which were the more generally accepted on account of the modesty,
retiring disposition and aversion to controversy of Lamarck himself,
handicapped by the blindness and poverty of his later years, his views
have been little known in their true shape, and the majority of natural-
ists have been content to receive them in the garbled form in which
they were presented by those who rejected them. Theoretical, as the
conditions of science at the time made obligatory; in some respects
with our present light obviously erroneous; the philosophy of Lamarck
nevertheless contained also a body of opinion substantially in harmony
with the evolutionary ideas of Spencer and Darwin, and which has been
established by the work of modern students of nature, among the
axioms of science.

It was then a pious task which Professor Packard undertook, to
present in its true form the zoological philosophy of this venerable
pioneer, that the present generation of philosophers might learn their
obligations to him. To this sympathetic exposition of Lamarck's views
the author has prefixed a summary of the meager details in regard to
his private life and public services, which a careful search has been able
to discover ; illustrated them by pictures of the house in which Lamarck
was born, and that in which most of his work was done and where he
died, adding a facsimile from his manuscript. Finally a chapter has
been added in which the revival of Lamarckian ideas among an influ-
ential body of modern students is summarized.

Jean-Baptiste-Pierre-Antoine de Monet, Chevalier de Lamarck was
born August 1, 1744, at Bazentin-le-Petit, Department of the Somme,
near Longueval. His mother was Marie Frangoise de Fontaine. His
family belonged to an ancient race of the minor nobility of Beam.
On the death of his father in 1760, he joined the French army, then
campaigning in Germany. Almost immediately afterward he achieved

• Lamarck, the founder of evolution, his life and work, by Alpheua S.
Packard, M.D., LL.D. Longmans Green and Co., New York, 190L Pp. xiv-f-
451, 8", ills.

264 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

distinction and was named an officer on the field, for especially gallant
conduct at the battle of Fissinghausen in Westphalia. He soon became
a lieutenant but an injury inflicted by a brother officer at play obliged
him to retire to Paris for surgical aid and to leave the army. He at-
tempted to study medicine, served as clerk in a bank and made himself
acquainted with botany to which finally he gave his whole attention
under Bernard de Jussieu for some ten years, when he published his
'Flore Frangaise' which gave him at once a national reputation.
Through the influence of Buffon he obtained a post in the Academy of
Sciences, and, as companion to Buffon's son, traveled on the continent
in Germany, Hungary and Holland, visiting museums and making
botanical collections. After his return Buffon's successor appointed
him keeper of the herbarium in the Eoyal Botanical Garden with a
stipend of 1,000 francs, which was later raised to 1,800 francs. Tn
1793 the establishment was reorganized as the Museum of Natural His-
tory and in the midst of the revolution, under the new conditions the
botanist Lamarck was appointed to a professorship of zoology, in
charge of the collection of invertebrate animals, the other zoological
professorship, involving the care of the vertebrate collections being
assigned to Etienne Geoffroy St. Hilaire, a devoted friend of Lamarck
and like him an evolutionist. Lamarck, now fifty years old, married a
second time, with six children, received a suite of rooms in the Maison
de Buffon attached to the garden, and a salary of 2,868 livres. Here he
remained, lectured and worked, until blindness overtook him about
1821, when the last volume of the Animaux sans Vertebres prepared
from his dictation by his devoted daughter, Cornelie, was presented to
the assembly of professors attached to the establishment. He died in
the Maison de Buffon, December 28, 1829, and was buried in a tem-
porary grave in the cemetery of Mont Parnasse. His bones, mingled
with those of a thousand others, lie somewhere in the catacombs of
Paris. To the adversities suffered in life was added the delegation by
the academy of the preparation of his memorial eloge to Cuvier, his
most determined opponent in the ranks of the 'creationists.' While
destitute of low malice this memoir, conceived in a spirit of contempt
for Lamarck's philosophical theories, has done much to obscure his
merits and place him in a false light before posterity. That the
present volume may vindicate his reputation and lead to a more im-
partial estimate of the work of this truly great naturalist and admirable
man, may confidently be predicted; as even those who differ from
Lamarck's conception of environmental and dynamic factors in evolu-
tion must feel obliged to recognize much in other phases of his philoso-
phy which now forms the common property of science, but which
Lamarck was among the first to advance and which he maintained
steadily, in spite of ridicule and incredulity, to the end of his days.

COMETS' TAILS. 265

COMETS' TAILS, THE CORONA AND THE AUEOEA

BOREALIS.

By Professor JOHN COX,

MCGILL UNIVERSITY.

^r^HERE is undeniable fascination about a theory which includes
-'- within its sweep the time-honored problems of astronomy con-
nected with comets' tails and the reason why they point away from the
sun; the solar prominences and the corona; the source of the light
by which the nebula shine ; the origin and structure of meteor-swarms ;
and the aurora borealis ; besides solving incidentally half a dozen minor
outstanding mysteries of the heavens.

Such a theory has been advanced by Sweden's distinguished chemist
and physicist, Svante Arrhenius, in a paper published in the 'Physi-
kalische Zeitschrift' for November, 1900. Its main points were briefly
mentioned with approval by no less an authority than Professor J. J.
Thomson at the end of his captivating article on 'Bodies smaller than
Atoms' in the August number of The Popular Science Monthly.
All the physical principles on which Arrhenius relies, with one excep-
tion, are explained at length in that article, and are now very gen-
erally accepted. We may therefore say that the theory is based on
'verse causse,' and its accordance with known facts is so impressive when
the comparison is made in detail that I venture to think the readers
of Professor Thomson's article will be interested in a more complete
statement of Arrhenius' views than time permitted him to give.

Let us begin by taking stock of the physical principles already to
hand. We know (Professor Thomson's paper) that corpuscles, about
1,000 times smaller than hydrogen atoms, and each bearing a charge of
negative electricity, are discharged with high velocity :

(1) from the negative electrode in a Crookes tube (kathode rays).

(2) from objects struck by kathode rays (Rontgen rays).

(3) from hot bodies, such as glowing metals.

(4) from cold metals under the influence of ultra-violet light.

(5) from the radio-active substance radium.

Again we know that these corpuscles, or ions, in passing through a
gas produce other ions by collision with the molecules of the gas, and
that the negatively charged ions are capable of serving as nuclei for the
condensation of ordinary matter.

2 66 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Comets' Tails.

The single new principle introduced by Arrhenius arises in connec-
tion with the problem of comets' tails. Astronomers have always felt
that the phenomena exhibited by these strange objects could only be
accounted for by making the sun the seat of a violent radial repulsive
force, but were entirely at a loss to account for this repulsion. So long
a& light was supposed to consist of myriads of corpuscles discharged
with a speed of 186,000 miles per second, it was easy, with Kepler, to
regard the corpuscles as carrying with them in their rush the materials
vaporized from the comet by the heat of the sun. But the establishment
of the Wave-Theory of light put an end to this idea. Thus Newcomb
says ('Popular Astronomy') : "If light were an emission of material
particles, as Newton supposed it to be, this view would have some plausi-
bility. But light is now conceived to consist of vibrations in an ethereal
medium; and there is no known way in which they could exert any
propelling force on matter !"

Now Arrhenius points out that according to the Electromagnetic
Theory of light a ray of light does exert a pressure on any surface on
^^hich it impinges. Maxwell not only proved this in his original publi-
cation of the theory in 1873, but showed how to calculate its value.
With the known constants of solar radiation he found that sunlight at
the surface of the earth should exert a pressure of .592 X lO"^'* grams
on every square centimeter. This is too small a force to be detected,
though it has been looked for.

But at the surface of the sun the pressure would mount up to 2.75
milligrams per sq. cm. On the other hand, a cubic centimeter of water,
which weighs one gram at the surface of the earth, would weigh 27.47
grams at the surface of the sun, i. e., the attraction of the sun would
draw it inwards with about 10,000 times the force with which the sun's
light would tend to drive it away.

Very different is the case if, instead of a cubic centimeter, we con-
sider a much smaller cube. The pressure on its base would fall off as
the square of its edge, but the weight would diminish as the cube.
There must come a point at which the pressure of the light would just
balance the weight; and still smaller particles would be driven off with
a force greater than tlioir weight. Tliey would behave, in fact, as if
gravity had become vegative.

For example, a cube of water measuring one-thousandth of a milli-
meter (10~* cm.) in the edge would weigh 27.47X10"^^ gms. ; and
the pressure of light on its base would be 2.75 X 10—^ X 10~^
= 27.5X10"^^ gms., i. e., slightly more than its weight.

In measuring wave-lengths of light physicists denote one-thousandth
of a millimeter by the s}Tnbol /i. The critical value of the edge of a
cube of water, i. e., the value for which its weight is exactly neutralized

COMETS' TAILS. 267

by the pressure of light at the sun's surface, is thus approximately fi.
For a spherical drop the critical diameter may be calculated to be 1.5 /i
for water. For other substances the critical value is inversely propor-
tional to the specific gravity.

A similar effect of extreme minuteness is familiar to us as the ex-
planation of the long time required by very small particles to settle
through the atmosphere, amounting to many months in the case of the
finely divided dust thrown up during the eruptions of Krakatoa. But
the resistance to suspended dust particles can never exceed their weight,
since it is only called forth by the motion produced by the weight itself.
The pressure of light now considered may enormously exceed the weight
provided the particles are small enough.

From the motions, and especially the curvature, of comets' tails the
magnitude of the repulsive forces to which they are subject may be cal-
culated. Thus Bredichin finds, in four instances, that the repulsion
must have been about 18.5, 3.2, 2.0, and 1.5 times the sun's gravita-
tional attraction. Now the vapors emitted by comets are largely
hydrocarbons of specific gravity about .8. To account for these repul-
sions on Arrhenius' principle, the drops must have had diameters of
0.1//, 0.59 fx, 0.94 (X, 1.25 fi respectively. In another case, where the
tail curved towards the sun, Bredichin found the repulsion to be 0.3
times gravity. This would indicate particles of diameter 6 //. Particles
of this order of magnitude, and far smaller, are familiar enough to us,
especially in combustion and in the early stages of condensation.

The theory suggested is then as follows: As the comet approaches
the sun, the intense heat causes a violent eruption of hydrocarbon vapors
on the side towards the sun. The hydrogen boils off, and the vapors
condense into small drops of hydrocarbons with higher boiling-points,
or ultimately solid carbon is thrown out, finely divided as in an ordinary
flame. The largest of these particles fall back to the comet, or if they
are not condensed till at a great distance from it, they form tails turned
towards the sun. The smaller are driven rapidly from the sun by the
pressure of its light, with a speed depending on their size, and form the
ordinary tails pointing away from it. That particles of different sizes
should be formed from the same comet is natural since the comet is
likely to be formed of heterogeneous materials, and there must be great
variety in the circumstances of condensation. Thus the comet of 1744
had no less than five tails of different curvature. Occasionally the cal-
culated repulsion on the same tail is not found to follow exactly the law
of the inverse square of the distance from the sun throughout its whole
length. This puzzling circumstance is at once explained, if the particles
should for any reason change their state of aggregation, and conse-
quently their size, during their headlong career. In the light of this
theory the following passages will be found very suggestive.

268 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

(Herschel, 'Outlines of Astronomy/ p. 376.)

"It is for the most part after thus passing the sun, that they shine forth
in all their splendor, and that their tails acquire their greatest length and
development; thus indicating plainly the action of the sun's rays as the excit-
ing cause of that extraordinary emanation."

Again (p. 566).

"The tail of the great comet of 1680 immediately after its perihelion pass-
age was found by Newton to have been no less than 20,000,000 leagues in
length, and to have occupied only two days in its emission from the comet's
body! a decisive proof this of its being darted forth by some active force, the
origin of which, to judge by the direction of the tail, must be sought in the sun
itself."

Now a particle with one- half the critical diameter would in the
course of traveling from the sun's surface to a distance equal to his
radius acquire a speed of 430 kilometers per second. With this velocity
it would cross a space equal to the diameter of the sun, 865,000 miles,
in less than an hour. In comets' tails we probably have to do with
particles having less than one eighteenth of the critical diameter. Such
particles would cover the same distance in less than four minutes. With
a force many times the sun's attraction driving them into space, they
would make little of 20,000,000 leagues in two days; whereas if this
were to be accomplished against gravity the velocity of projection re-
quired might well stagger the astronomers.

Eeferring to Halley's comet, Herschel says (p. 381) :

On the 2d of October [the very day of the first observed commencement of
the tail) the nucleus, which had been faint and small, was observed suddenly
to have become much brighter, and to be in the act of throwing out a jet or
stream of light from its anterior part, or that turned toivards the sun. This
ejection after ceasing a while was resumed, and with much greater apparent
violence, on the 8th, and continued with occasional intermittences so long as
the tail itself continued visible. . . These jets, though very bright at their
point of emanation from the nucleus, faded rapidly away, and became diffused
as they expanded into the coma, at the same time curving backwards, as
streams of steam or smoke would do, if thrown out from narrow orifices, more
or Jess obliquely, in opposition to a powerful wind, against which they were
unable to make way, and ultimately yielding to its force, so as to be drifted
back and confounded in a vaporous train, following the general direction of the
current.

It seems impossible to avoid the following conclusions. 1st. That the
matter of the nucleus of a comet is powerfully excited and dilated into a vapor-
ous state by the action of the sun's rays, escaping in streams and jets at those
. points of the surface which oppose the least resistance. 2ndly. That this
process chiefly takes place in that portion of the nucleus which is turned
towards the sun; the vapour escaping chiefly in that direction. 3rdly. That
when so emitted, it is prevented from proceeding in the direction originally
impressed on it, by some force directed from the sun, drifting it back and
carrying it out to vast distances behind the nucleus, forming the tail. 4tlily.
That this force, whatever its nature, acts unequally on the materials of the

COMETS' TAILS. 269

comet. 5thly. Tliat the force thus acting on the materials of the tail cannot
possibly be identical with the ordinary gravitation of matter, being centrifugal
or repulsive, as respects the sun, and of an energy very far exceeding the
gravitating force towards that luminary. This will be evident if we consider
the enormous velocity with which the matter of the tail is carried backwards,
in opposition both to the motion which it had as part of the nucleus, and to
that wliich it acquired in the act of emission.

Again, describing the long straight tail of the great comet of 1843,
from which a lateral tail, nearly twice the length of the regular one,
was shot forth in a single day, Herschel says :

The projection of this ray, which was not seen either before or after the
day in question, to so enormous a length (nearly 100°) in a single day conveys
an impression of the intensity of the forces acting to produce such a velocity
of material transfer through space, such as no other natural phenomenon is
capable of exciting. It is clear that if we have to deal here vnth matter, such
as we conceive it, viz., possessing inertia, at all, it must be under the dominion
of forces incomparably more energetic than gravitation, and quite of a different
nature.

And finally (p. 406) :

There is beyond question some profound secret and mystery of nature con-
cerned in the phenomenon of their tails. In no respect is the question as to
the materiality of the tail more forcibly pressed on us for consideration than
in that of the enormous sweep which it makes round the sim in perihelio, in
the manner of a straight and rigid rod, in defiance of the law of gravitation,
nay, even of the received laws of motion, extending (as we have seen in the
comets of 1680 and 1843) from near the sun's surface to the earth's orbit, yet
whirled round unbroken, in the latter case through an angle of 180° in little
more than two hours. It seems utterly incredible that in such a ease it is one
and the same material object which is thus brandished. If there could be con-
ceived such a thing as a negative shadoic, a momentary impression made upon
the luminiferous ether behind the comet, this would represent in some degree
the conception such a phenomenon irresistibly calls up. But this is not all.
Even such an extraordinary excitement of the ether, conceive it as we will, will
afford no accoimt of the projection of lateral streamers; of the effusion of light
from the nucleus of a comet towards the sun; and of its subsequent rejection;
of the irregular and capricious mode in which that effusion has been seen to
take place.

These passages give a vivid picture of the utter puzzledom of
astronomers over difficulties which arise from precisely those phe-
nomena which fit most naturally into the theory of Arrhenius.

The Prominences and the Corona.
At the moment when the sun's disc is obscured in a total eclipse
enormous red flames, sometimes curving over towards the sun and
sometimes floating like clouds at heights up to 40,000 miles above his
surface, are seen projecting over the region of sunspots, where the sun's
eruptive activity is greatest; and silvery streamers with a radial struc-
ture form a lens-shaped envelope about the same region, often extending

2 70 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to a distance of several times the sun's radius. These are kno\^^l as the
prominences and the corona.

The sun must itself project vapors into space. When these condense,
the drops will, if larger than the critical size, fall back to the sun,
giving rise to the curved prominences; and if smaller, they will be
driven off into space, and be seen as the streamers of the corona. Since
the eruptions will not always be perpendicular to the sun's surface, the
prominences will often exhibit parabolic curves, and the streamers may
not always be strictly radial, though the greater part of this effect is to
be attributed to the foreshortening under which some of them are
viewed from the earth.

Those particles which have approximately the critical diameter will
float as clouds, sustained by the pressure of light. This point is
specially interesting, since it has been difficult to account for the main-
tenance of the cloudlike prominences without assuming the existence
of a considerable atmosphere about the sun. Yet the comet of 1843
described 300,000 miles within a distance of less than one-third of the
sun's radius from his surface with a velocity of 350 miles per second,
and came out without having suffered any visible damage or retardation.

The corona has been as great a stumbling-block to astronomers as
the comet's tail. Thus Newcomb ('Popular Astronomy,' p. 263) says:

The corona is not a mass of foggy or milky light, but has a hairy structure
like long tufts of flax. . . Of this appendage we may say with confidence
that it cannot be an atmosphere, that is, a continuous mass of elastic gas held
up by its own elasticity. . . What then is the corona? Probably detached
particles partially or wholly vaporized by the intense heat to which they are
exposed. . . The difficult question which we meet is, How are these particles
held up? To this question only conjectural replies can be given.

Three conjectures are then mentioned, of which we may note the
first.

That the matter of the corona is in what we may call a state of projec-
tion, being constantly thrown up by the sun, while each particle thus projected
falls down again according to the law of gravitation. The difficulty we en-
counter here is that we must suppose velocities of projection rising as high as
200 miles per second constantly maintained in every region of the solar globe.

The prominences are of two classes — the cloud-like and the eruptive. The
first class presents the appearance of clouds floating in an atmosphere; but as
no atmosphere dense enough to sustain anything can possibly exist there, we
find the same difficulty in accounting for them, that we do in accounting for
the suspension of the matter of the corona.

Professor Young is frankly despairing.

I do not know what to make of the corona. . . By what forces the pecu-
liar radiated structure of the corona is determined I have no definite idea.
The analogies of comets' tails and auroral streamers both appear suggestive;
but on the other hand, the spectra of the corona, the aurora borealis, the
comets and the nebulas are all different, no two in the least alike. . . Nor

COMETS' TAILS. 271

have I any theory to propose to account for the certain conriection between dis-
turbances of the solar surface and of terrestrial magnetism.

The words we have underlined in this passage have almost a Sopho-
clean irony to a reader acquainted with the further developments of
Arrhenius' theory to which we now turn.

The Zodiacal Light and the Gegenschein.

Not only is the sun the source of those eruptions of ordinary matter
which form the prominences, but we have every reason to be believe
that he must emit streams of electrically charged corpuscles both
directly, as a hot body, and indirectly, since the electrical discharges
which, according to all terrestrial analogies, must accompany the violent
chemical actions going on near his surface, will, when they take place in
the higher and rarer regions of his atmosphere, give rise to kathode
rays, and these, in turn, to Rontgen rays. As Professor Thomson says :
"As a very hot metal emits these corpuscles, it does not seem an improb-
able hypothesis that they are emitted by that very hot body, the sun,"

Now the negatively charged corpuscles are preeminently fitted to
serve as nuclei for the condensation of the ordinary matter. Hence
those particles of the latter which, having more than the critical diam-
eter, fall back to the sun, will carry back a negative charge to him;
while those which have less than the critical diameter will carry a
negative charge off into space. On both counts the corona will be left
with a surplus of positive charge. The same arguments hold for the
vapors emitted by the nucleus of a comet. Thus comets' tails should
consist of negatively charged particles.

Let us follow the career of the particles launched into space. They
proceed radially from the sun above the regions of sunspots with
rapidly increasing speed, which, however, may be shown to approach a
finite limit at a distance of about ten radii from the sun. If they en-
counter another body, such as the earth, they charge its outer atmos-
phere negatively, and when this charge reaches a certain value,
it will begin to repel them. The oncoming rush will be de-
flected, and stream past the earth on each side in hyperbolic orbits.
Far out in space they must sooner or later meet particles from other
bodies, and, if by collision or aggregation they increase beyond the crit-
ical diameter, they will first lose speed and then drift back with ever
increasing velocity past the earth, directly towards the sun. The space
immediately behind the earth would be screened by her, and so be void
of particles. Could we take our stand on the moon, we should thus see
the earth attended by a faint double tail with a dark dividing line Cso
conspicuous a feature in comets), immediately behind it, pointing from
the sun; and a similar, though perhaps fainter, tail, pointing towards
him. Not only so, but the earth helps to form her own tail. For when

272 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the negative charge in the upper atmosphere is high enough, discharges
are brought about by the powerful ultra-violet radiation from the sun,
and particles are driven o£E radially from the earth on the side turned
towards the sun, only to be drifted back with the other streams into
the tail. The effect will be as if a sheaf of light projected from her
towards the sun.

Compare with this the description of the Zodiacal Light (Newcomb,
'Popular Astronomy/ p. 416) :

This object consists of a very soft faint column of light, which may be
seen rising from the western horizon after twilight on any clear winter or
spring evening; it may also be seen rising from the eastern horizon just before
daybreak in the summer or autumn. It really extends out on each side of the
sun, and lies nearly in the plane of the ecliptic. . . Near the equator, where
the ecliptic always rises high above the horizon, the light can be seen about
equally well all the year round. . . It is due to a lens-shaped appendage of
some sort surrounding the sun, and extending out a little beyond the earth's
orbit.

The nature of the substance from which this light emanates is entirely
unknown. . . Professor Wright of Yale College finds its spectrum to be con-
tinuous. Accepting this, we should be led to the conclusion that the phe-
nomenon in question is due to reflected sunlight, probably from an immense
cloud of meteorites, filling up the space between the earth and the sun.

The difficulty in this view is that the orbits of such swarms of
meteorites as are known to us are distributed irregularly with regard to
the ecliptic. On the other hand, Arrhenius' streams of particles, when
near enough to be visible, necessarily lie in or near the ecliptic, as re-
quired by observation. More than this, the particles emitted by the
earth herself should be most abundant over those regions which have
been exposed for many hours to the sun. Now it has been observed that
the zodiacal light is stronger on what Arrhenius calls the 'evening side'
of the earth (t. e., that side which is in the act of turning away from the
sun, and has the sun in the west) than on the 'morning side.'

Even at night, when the sun is below the horizon, faint reflections
should reach us from the streamers behind the earth, and by an effect
of perspective, these should have a maximum in the point opposite to
the sun, where they will appear most dense. Let Professor Newcomb
describe the Gegenschein :

Another mysterious phenomenon associated with the zodiacal light is
known by its German appellation, the Gegenschein. It is said that in that
point of the heavens directly opposite the sun there is an elliptical patch of
light, a few degrees in extent, of such extreme faintness that it can be seen
only by the most sensitive eyes, under the best conditions, and through the
clearest atmosphere. This phenomenon seems so difficult to account for that its
existence is sometimes doubted; yet the testimony in its favor is difficult to
set aside.

How is it that the moon does not exhibit such tails ? The moon has

COMETS' TAILS. 273

no atmosphere, so that the particles which reach her give up their
negative charge to her directly, and it spreads equally all oyer her sur-
face. When in turn she herself discharges the particles, it will be uni-
formly in all directions, and she should appear surrounded with a
uniform sheath. Possibly this sheath of cosmical dust affords the
reason that in a lunar eclipse the shadow of the earth can be traced a
short distance beyond the limb of the moon on each side.

The Aurora Borealis.

Perhaps the most interesting application of Arrhenius' theory is his
explanation of the Aurora. In a well-known experiment the streams
of negative particles forming kathode rays in a Crookes tube are ex-
posed to a magnetic field, when they are seen to describe helices round
the lines of force. If the field is powerful enough, they may thus be
bent into a complete circle inside a moderately large tube.

Now the negative particles discharged from the sun arrive most
thickly over the equatorial regions of the earth, which are most directly
exposed to him. Long before they reach any atmosphere dense enough
to excite luminescence, they are caught by the lines of force of the
earth's magnetic field, which are horizontal over the equator, and have
to follow them, winding round them in helices whose radii are so much
less than their height above us that the effect to a beholder on the earth
is as if they moved along the lines of force. Over the equator there is
little luminescence, for lack of atmosphere. But as the lines of force
travel north and south, they dip downwards making for the magnetic
poles, over which they stand vertical. Soon the particles find them-
selves in lower layers of the atmosphere, comparable in density with
our highest artificial vacua, and begin to give out the darting and
shifting lights of the kathode ray. But this can only be at the cost of
absorption, and by the time the denser layers of air are reached, their
energy is exhausted. Hence the dark circles round the magnetic poles
from which, as from behind a curtain, the leaping pillars of the Aurora
rise. From this point of view it is significant that Dr. Adam Paulsen,
who has made a special study of the northern lights, found so many
points of correspondence between them and kathode rays that in 1894
he was led to regard the aurora as a special case of the latter, though
unable to give any account of their origin in the upper atmosphere,
such as is supplied by Arrhenius' theory.

The most obvious test to which we can subject such a theory is to
ask from it some explanation of the very remarkable periodic variations
in the frequency of aurorge. If they are caused by streams of particles
ejected from the sun, there should be some connection between the
changes in the sun's activity, as indicated by the number of sunspots,
and the number of aurorae observed. Again, since a negative charge

VOL. LX. — 18.

2 74 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in motion is (pace M. Cremieux) equivalent to a negative current, the
passage of electrified particles through the upper atmosphere should
affect magnetic instruments on the earth. Sunspots, aurorae, magnetic
storms should therefore vary together.

It has long been known empirically that they do agree in a gen-
eral way. Arrhenius' discussion of the mass of statistics of observed
auroraj forms so striking an example of the 'Method of Concomitant
Variations' that at the risk of wearying the reader we shall give it in
some detail.

1. Slow secular periods.

(a) Both sunspots and aurorae show marked maxima at the middle
of the eighteenth and the end of the nineteenth centuries.

(b) Sunspots, aurorae, and magnetic storms go through a simul-
taneous increase and decrease in the well-known period of 11.1 years.

The source of these slow variations must be looked for in the little

understood variations of the sun's activity.

2. Annual period.

The number of aurorae is greatest in March and September, and
least in June and December; and the mean frequency for both hemi-
spheres is somewhat less in June than in December.

Now the sun's activity, as indicated by the number of sunspots, is a
minimum at his equator, the spots occurring principally in belts about
15° north and south of his equator. Since the streams of particles
issue radially from the sun, the earth will be most exposed to them,
when she is most nearly opposite the active belts. But the earth stands
opposite the sun's equator on June 4 and December 6, and is at her
farthest north and south of it (7°), t. e., most nearly opposite the sun-
spot belts, on March 5 and on September 3. Moreover, she is somewhat
nearer to the sun in December than in June.

As between the two hemispheres, the same conditions apply as those
which regulate the seasons, viz., altitude of the sun above the horizon,
and length of time during which he remains above it daily. Aurora?
should therefore be more frequent in summer than in winter, a result
which is verified by the records. And just as the highest daily tem-
perature occurs from two to three hours after mid-day, so we oiight to
lind a daily maximum of aurorae about 3 p. m. It is not possible to
verify tliis directly, since aurora? are not visible in daylight. But
Arrhenius remarks (1) that the majority of them occur before mid-
night and not after it, which is so far in general agreement with the
theory; (2) that Carlheim-Gyllenskiold, discussing the observations
made at Cape Thordsen in Spitzbergen during the winter of 1882-1883,
with a view to correcting the numbers recorded for the effect of day-
light in concealing them, deduces a probable maximum for the num-
ber actually occurring at 2.40 p. m.

COMETS' TAILS. 275

But though we cannot observe aurora3 in daylight, we are not with-
out resource, for even when invisible, they give notice of their presence
by disturbing the ordinary course of the records photographically taken
in our magnetic observatories. In 1899 van Bemmelen discussed the
records of such magnetic storms taken in Batavia. He found that they
show maxima in March and September, minima in January and June,
and a daily maximum at 3 p. m., and minimum at 1 a. m.

3. Monthly Variations.

It is only recently (1898) that the collection of statistics of aurorge
published by Eckholm and Arrhenius has brought to light two curious
monthly variations in their number.

One of these, with a variation of 20% on each side of the mean,
depends on the revolution of the moon in her orbit, showing in the
northern hemisphere a maximum when the moon is farthest south of
the equator, a minimum when she is farthest north: and vice versa for
the southern hemisphere.

The explanation appears highly ingenious. It is as follows: The
moon, being unprotected by an atmosphere, is charged by the streams
of particles that reach her much as the outer layers of our own atmos-
phere are charged, and therefore, as we have good reason to believe, to a
far higher negative potential than is observed at the surface of the earth.
If so, she will seriously affect the number of aurorae at any place over
wliich she stands, by lowering the potential gradient, and thus re-
ducing the number of negative discharges in the highest regions of
our atmosphere.

The other variation of some 10% each way has a period of 25.93
days and affects both hemispheres alike. At first sight it is natural
to refer this to the synodical time of revolution of the sun on his axis
as determined by observations of sunspots. But this is 27.3 days.
Remembering that the earth never departs more than 7° from the sun's
equator, we should rather take the time of revolution of the equatorial
belt for comparison. As estimated by the motion of the faculae, this
is 2G,06 days, the equator moving faster than the sunspot belts, and
probably the time of revolution of the outermost layers, from which the
particles stream, is yet a little shorter. The agreement with the
period of the aurora (25.93 days) would thus be within the limits of
error of the observations.

Atmospheric Electricity.

Let us now trace the effect of the aurorae on the earth's atmosphere.
If they are really kathode rays on a grand scale, they must ionize the
air, the negative ions will form centers for condensation, and sinking
to the earth by gravitation, will charge it negatively, leaving the layers

2 76 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

at moderate heights positively charged. This agrees with the results of
recent observations made from balloons up to heights of 3,000 meters.

Since condensation will depend on the number of ions available
for nuclei, we have at once an explanation of the curious fact that
cloud-formation in the upper atmosphere is more copious in years of
frequent aurorse than when they occur rarely. In this connection
another odd coincidence may be mentioned. When sunspots are
numerous, Jupiter shines with a white light; when they are few, his
light has a reddish tinge. Now it is agreed that Jupiter is still at a
high temperature. If, therefore, sunspots cause aurorse on Jupiter,
and consequent cloud-formation, we must see less of the heated in-
terior in sunspot years than we do when his cloud-layers are not so
opaque.

In 1899 von Bezold showed that the daily variation of the compass
over the earth's surface could be simply represented as follows.
Imagine two points, one in latitude 40° N., and one 40° S., to move
round with the sun. Then it is as if the north end of the compass
needle were attracted towards the northerly point, and the south end
toAvards the southerly. Eemembering that the air immediately above
the earth has a positive charge, we see that this effect would follow by
Ampere's rule, if the sun's heat caused two air-whirls, one in the
northern and one in the southern hemisphere, over the places of highest
temperature, the former rotating counter-clockwise, the latter clock-
wise. Such whirls would result from the sucking in of currents from
the slower-moving north latitudes and the faster-moving south lati-
tudes towards the mean latitude of 40°, in the northern hemisphere,
and similarly for the southern. If this be the true explanation, then
for a given frequency of sunspots, the amplitude of the diurnal varia-
tion should increase by the same fraction of itself for all parts of the
earth. Thus if A° is the amplitude at a given place in a year of no
sunspots, and A its value in a year for which Wolf's number express-
ing the relative frequency of spots is f, we ought to find A =
A° (1-f-af). Now the value of the coefficient a comes out .0064 from
whatever part of the world the observations be taken from which it is
calculated.

Meteorites and Nehulce.

To the man of science this discussion of terrestrial details will prob-
ably be the most convincing part of the evidence adduced by Arrhenius
for his theory. But it is time to turn from it, and follow, with lagging
imagination, the destinies of those particles, by far the greatest num-
ber, which miss the earth and the planets, and launch forth into
interstellar space.

Many of them will meet similar streams ejected from other suns.

COMETS' TAILS. 277

and overcoming the mutual repulsion of their negative charges by their
mighty velocities, will clash together, like Lucretius' atoms, and unite
to form larger masses. But this aggregation must have an end. For
if, in the void of space, they are unable to get rid of their electric
charges, the potential of the growing mass must rapidly increase, since
the charge increases as the cube of the radius, being proportional to the
total number of particles, while the capacity for holding electricity
only increases as the radius itself. To put this in popular language,
each particle brings to the account the whole charge it can bear on its
surface; but in the mass, since electricity flies to the surface, only the
outer parts of those particles which are actually in the surface can be
useful in harboring the accumulating charge, and hence the electric
pressure rises. When it becomes intense enough to prevent fresh
particles from approaching, accretion will cease. Space will thus be
sown with masses of moderate size, formed irregularly, particle by
particle, in spite of repulsive forces. These are the meteorites which
blaze for a moment in the upper air, or in rare cases reach the earth
to puzzle philosophers with their porous structure.

Another multitude of the particles will at last reach other suns.
For if in their wanderings they have united with others till they are
beyond the critical size, they will be drawn in, and raise the charge of
the bodies they reach, till they in turn discharge their streams into
space.

In these we see the 'greyhounds' of the abyss, engaged in dis-
tributing the materials of the universe, forever busied in a cosmic
traffic by whose exchanges the stellar hosts are made more and more
alike in constitution, whatever may have been their differences in the
beginning.

For those myriads which are fated to escape all visible suns, far
out in the 'flaming bounds of space' the Nebulae lie in wait, spreading
spider-like their impalpable webs across immeasurable breadths of sky.
Ever since the spectroscope showed that many nebulae are gaseous, and
yet shine by their own light, two problems have vexed the astronomers.
How can they be hot enough to send light to us, and yet be held
together against the expansive force of the heated gas, by the feeble
gravitation which such inconceivably diffuse masses can exert at their
borders? If they are really at a temperature of not less than 500° C,
so as to shine, or, indeed, if they are much above absolute zero, their
own gravitation should not be able to prevent their speedy dissipation
into space.

Again, why do they show the spectroscopic lines of so few gases, and
those the lighter ones, such as hydrogen and helium?

According to Arrhenius the nebulae are cold, with the cold of
empty space. Their light is due to the rain of negatively charged

2 78 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

particles which, plunging into their outermost regions, give rise to
electric discharges and make their gases shine as the gases in a vacuum
tube. To this the intense cold is no bar, for Stark has shown that the in-
tensity of light excited in a vacuum tube is greater the lower the tem-
perature at which the experiment is tried. And this process should
take place at the surface of the nebula, where the lighter gases would
be found, the heavier settling inwards. Hence the few lines found
in the spectrum of a nebula, and the comparative brightness of the
outlying parts, especially to be observed in the planetary and the ring
uebulfe.

Such is Arrhenius' theory. It is too early, as yet, to pronounce any
judgment upon it, but glancing back over the array of hitherto unex-
plained facts which fall into order, without forcing, at its touch, we
must admit that it is at least plausible. It springs from a single
principle, itself a necessary theoretical consequence of the accepted
Electromagnetic Theory of light, viz., that light must exert a pressure
which, in the case of small particles, may very greatly exceed their
weight. By means of this principle in conjunction with recent views
about the nature and properties of ions, which can all be experimentally
verified, this theory gives a rational explanation of the astounding
behavior of comets' tails; accounts for the 'hairy' structure of the
corona ; shows us how the prominences can float where the existence of
a supporting atmosphere is inadmissible; what is. the origin of the
zodiacal light and the Gegenschein; of 'the certain connection' between
sunspots and magnetic storms; of the aurora, and why it is subject to
such complicated periodical variations; why meteorites are porous and
limited in size; how the nebulae shine in the absolute cold of inter-
stellar space, and yet hang together; and why their constituents
appear to be so restricted, while the suns among which they are strewn
give evidence of most of the elements known on earth.

A theory which sweeps the astronomical horizon of so many mys-
teries must not only arouse our profound interest, but claim the re-
spectful consideration of men of science.

DISCUSSION AND CORRESPONDENCE.

279

DISCUSSION AND CORRESPONDENCE.

THE NOACHIAN DELUGE.

To the Editor: — My attention has
just been called to the inquiries in the
August number of the Monthly con-
cerning the reply I would make to a
number of objections which arise in
connection with my theory of the
Noachian Deluge. As they are appar-
ently made in good faith I will briefly
remark upon them, though it would re-
quire a volume fully to discuss the
points raised.

1. The question respecting Noah's
supposed relation to paleolithic man
is answered by saying that it is by no
means proved that paleolithic man in
Europe and America was not cotera-
porary with civilized man in Egypt and
Babylonia, whose existence is now
thrown back in those countries several
thousand years before the Christian
era. I do not know that there is any
evidence that paleolithic man any-
where developed into neolithic man,
and so on to a stage of comparative
civilization by his own efforts. It
seems more likely that he received his
new arts by contact with higher races
than that he made the inventions of his
own accord. Certainly, in America, he
did not pass out of the 'stone age,' by
himself.

2. With regard to the age of Noah
as given in the Scriptures when his sur-
vi\ing children were born it is enough
to say that language, like isolated geo-
logical facts, has to be interpreted ; and
it is a fair question whether Noah,
here, is not the name of a dynasty, like
Pharaoh, or of a family, like Israel.
That is to be determined by a thorough
study of the literature involved. Israel
is indeed the name of a man, but it is
constantly used to designate the whole
body of his descendants. In so brief

an account of a long period of history
as we have in the early chapters of
Genesis, it would not be strange if
much more was compressed into single
words than would be done in a fuller
history.

3. In reference to the specific state-
ment of facts, it is proper to remark
that outside of mathematical and dry
scientific treatises, there is little
specific statement of facts by anybody.
When I read in the papers that the
whole town turned out to witness a
pageant, I do not expect on inquiry to
find that there were no women and
children or busy or indifferent men
absent, nor do I charge the writer with
misrepresenting the facts in making
the general statement. But, on the
other hand, I take the nature of lan-
guage into consideration and interpret
it to mean simply that there was a
great crowd, which had the appearance
of containing everybody in the town.
Again, when I read in a scientific trea-
tise, as I frequently do, that a fact, or
explanation of a fact, is 'generally'
admitted, I do not charge the writer
with either dishonesty or ignorance if
it is found that nine tenths of the peo-
ple of the world have heard neither of
the fact nor of the explanation, nor
yet if it is found that both the alleged
fact and its explanation is disbelieved
by a considerable portion of the civil-
ized world. There are few questions on
which there is perfect unanimity of
judgment, hence if we use the word
'generally' at all, outside of mathe-
matics, we must use it in a modified
sense and leave the interpretation to
the context.

Applying this well-known principle
of interpretation to the case in hand,
it is possible to get a pretty definite

iSo

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

conception out of the language both of
the Bible and of other confirmatory
traditions without being pressed to ac-
cept it with mathematical exactness.
The single point which I have made is,
that, in view of the great instability
of geological conditions which accom-
panied the close of the glacial period,
and during which man was in exist-
ence, it is unscientific to apply to that
period the standards with reference to
the rate of elevation and depression of
the earth's surface which apply to the
present. I have also called attention
anew to the unknown, but certainly ex-
tensive, destruction of life during the
closing stages of the glacial period,
and immediately after, in which man
may fairly be assumed to have shared
to a great extent.

The alleged object of the flood,
namely, the destruction of the human
race, may then well have been accom-
plished by submergence limited to cen-
tral and western Asia, from which I
have brought much new evidence going
to show that at a very recent geological
period, indeed since man's existence,
there have been such changes of land
level as render it easier than before to
credit the existence of a great fact un-
derneath the widespread traditions
concerning a deluge in which the last
remnants of the human race, except
those saved by special arrangement,
were destroyed.

G. Frederick Wright.

It must be left to readers of the
Monthly to decide whether or not
Professor Wright answers the questions
addressed to him by our correspondent.
They were as follows:

1. You say. Professor Wright, that
"The Paleolithic man of science maj-
well be the Antediluvian man of
Genesis." Was Tubal Cain, 'an in-
structor of every artificer in brass and
iron,' an antediluvian man, and, if so,
had he not learned to use smoothed
stone instruments ? Was Noah, himself,
a paleolithic or a neolithic man, and
did he build the ark with flaked or
polished flint implements?

2. You say: "But towards the close
of this period there were 120 years
(specially mentioned in the Bible as a
time of warning) in which the move-
ment was accelerated to such a degree
that the rising waters gave point to
the preaching of Noah." The period
of 120 years here mentioned was de-
duced from the statement that Noah
was 600 years old at the time of the
flood. Do you believe that Noah was
GOO years old, and that his grandchil-
dren that peopled the earth were sub-
sequently born?

3. You say: "During the last 371
days of this period the catastrophe
culminated in the facts specifically re-
lated in the Book of Genesis." Do you
believe that the 'facts specifically re-
lated in the Book of Genesis' are true?
For example, that "every living sub-
stance was destroyed which was upon
tlie face of the ground, both man, and
cattle, and the creeping things, and the
fowl of the heaven; and they were de-
stroyed from the earth : and Noah only
remained alive, and they that were
with him in the ark."

SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE.

281

SCIENTIFIC LITERATUKE.

THE STARS.

Professob Newcomb, in the last
issue of the 'Science Series' (Putnam),
sums up our present knowledge of the
stars. The greatest problem which can
engage the human mind is the struc-
ture and duration of the Universe.
This is the problem which the author
proposes in the fourteenth chapter, and
which he discusses throughout the rest
of the volume. The early chapters
may be regarded as forming an intro-
duction to this far-reaching investiga-
tion. To present a popular statement
of the facts of astronomy is no simple
task. This the author keenly appre-
ciates, for in the preface he admits that
he has failed to satisfy himself. Never-
theless, no one could be better prepared
to undertake the work than Professor
Newcomb, and the outcome cannot fail
to meet with general praise. The
author possesses that rare style, which
comes from a perfectly clear conception
of the subject, and a good command of
plain English. He can be exact with-
out the use of technical language.

Among the important subjects, which
are discussed in the volume, are the
surveys of the stars, which are now in
progress. These surveys are of differ-
ent kinds. There are the cataloguing
and numbering of the stars, which are
still actively carried on, and by new
and novel methods, due to the introduc-
tion of photography. To count and fix
the positions of the stars is, however,
not enough. There must also be photo-
metric surveys, to determine the exact !
brightness, and other surveys for the
systematic study of the spectra, the
parallax, and the motions of the stars.
There must also be careful surveys of
the nebulae. A most interesting investi-
gation is that of the motion of stars

ill the line of sight, a study which has
reached a wonderful precision at the
Lick Observatory, with the great re-
fractor and its spectroscope. This has
thrown much light on the subject of
double and variable stars. Other sub-
jects of special interest are the great
numbers of variable stars, which are
found packed into a few dense clusters,
and the life histoiy and changes of a
star. At present, owing to the in-
completeness of the surveys and other
f-tudies no entirely satisfactory dis-
cussion of the structure of the Universe
is possible. The subject, however, is
treated in an extremely clear and inter-
esting manner, and all the conclusions
are drawn, in regard to the Universe,
which the present state of the science
permits.

ALASKA.
A NOTABLE book on Alaska has
recently left the press of Doubleday,
Page & Company (New York) in the
form of a report on the Harriman Alaska
Expedition of 1900. This expedition
was organized by Mr. E. H. Harriman
as a means of obtaining definite infor-
mation concerning the characteristics
and resources of the Alaskan coast and
interior; and through the cooperation
of the Washington Academy of Sciences
a strong scientific character was im-
pressed on the work. The personnel in-
cluded a 'scientific party' of twenty-
five specialists, several of them eminent
in their respective lines; and every
possible facility for original work was
afforded these specialists in the course
of the voyage and land journeys, so
that important records and collections
were obtained. The preparation of
the material for publication was un-
dertaken largely by members of the
Washington Academy, and the papers

282

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

have been edited by Dr. C. Hart Mer-
riam, one of the leading contributors
to the Buccess of the expedition. The
report, as now published, consists of
two volumes, but others are promised
as remaining material is elaborated.
The first volume is largely made up of
the narrative of the expedition by the
litterateur-naturalist, John Burroughs,
and an account of the natives of the
Alaska coast region by Dr. George
Bird Grinnell. The second volume
contains memoirs on the discoveiy and
exploration of Alaska, by Dr. William
H. Dall; on Alaskan birds, by Profess-
or Charles Keeler; on the forests of
Alaska, by Professor B. E. Fernow; on
the geography of Alaska, by Dr. Henry
Gannett; on the Alaskan atmosphere,
by Professor William H. Brewer; on
'Bogoslof, Our newest volcano,' by
Dr. Merriam; on the salmon industry,
by Dr. Grinnell, and on fox farming,
by M. L. Washburn. Each of these
memoirs is a substantial contribution
to knowledge of the territory; the
whole constitutes a standard source of
information concerning Alaska and its
resources and possibilities. The vol-
umes are no less notable in form than
in substance; they are models of book-
making technique. Convenient in form
and size, they are sumptuous in eflfect
and finish; typography and paper are
irreproachable, the binding is appro-
priate, and the illustrations are ade-
quate and well distributed. These
illustrations are especially fine. Tliere
are 39 lithograph plates, showing
landscapes, glaciers, flowering and
fruiting plants, birds, mammals, etc.,
with unsurpassed fidelity and refine-
ment; and there are 85 photogravure
plates, showing characteristic views of
the region with an accuracy and ful-
ness of detail seldom attained and
never excelled, some of the pictures of
glaciers and bergs, for example, being
revelations of the possibilities of photo-
mechanical reproduction. These admi-
rable plates are supplemented by 240
text cuts, mainly reproductions of

drawings notable alike for faithfulness
to nature and for artistic perfection.

SOCIOLOGY.

Professor Giddings's new book, '' In-
ductive Sociology' (The Macmillan
Company), is an elaboration of the
theories set forth in his previous work
on 'The Principles of Sociology.' The
present volume covers, however, only
one half of the field marked out by
the author as general sociology. Its
object is, in the author's words, "to
present a scheme of inductive method,
a somewhat detailed analysis and
classification of social facts, and a ten-
tative formulation of the more obvious
laws of social activity." Studies of the
historical evolution of society and of
the deeper problems of causation are
deferred for future consideration.

The volume is divided into two
books, the first of which deals with
social theory, the second with the ele-
ments and structure of society. In
the first book a new solution is sug-
gested for the puzzling problem of the
unit of society. Mr. Giddings main-
tains that the true unit is neither the in-
dividual nor the family but the 'socius.'
This introductory book also contains an
admirable analysis of the methods of
sociology, which is better by far than
anything that has been presented since
Comte's classification, and is in many
respects an improvement upon this
earlier attempt. The second book is
divided into four parts, dealing respect-
ively with the social population, the
social mind, social organization and
social welfare. Within each^ part the
material is classified under separate
categories, and the special subjects set
forth in a series of propositions, dis-
tinctions and definitions. To show how
sociology can be systematized, a num-
ber of statistical tables, formulae, dia-
grams and maps are presented; and
to encourage further investigation
along these lines, blank forms are fur-
nished for the collection and considera-
tion of sociological data.

TEE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

283

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

WINTER MEETINGS OF SCIEN-
TIFIC SOCIETIES.
The efforts to secure a convocation
week for the meetings of scientific and
learned societies have met with gratify-
ing success. It may be remembered
that a note in a former issue of this
magazine called attention to the ap-
pointment of a committee of the Amer-
ican Association for the Advancement
of Science which secured the coopera-
tion of the Association of American
Universities. Most of our leading in-
stitutions have now decided to set
apart for these meetings the week in
which the first of January falls. In
some cases no change in the calendar
was required, in others it has only been
decided that officers may have leave of
absence, but in many the Christmas
holidays have been lengthened by a few
days. The movement has met with
practically universal approval, both on
the part of institutions of learning and
on the part of scientific societies, and
represents a gain for science, the im-
portance of which can scarcely be over-
stated. The advancement and the
diffusion of science depend largely on
the meetings of our societies. It is of
the utmost importance for scientific
men to come together and discuss their
common interests. Only so can a high
and uniform standard be maintained
throughout the country, only so will
an eager interest in advanced work
and research be maintained, only so
will men find their proper places and
the work they are best able to do, only
so will science be adequately recognized
and supported by the community.
Hitherto the scientific meetings have
been divided between summer and win-
ter. The American Association has
met in the summer holidays and with

it the societies devoted to the physical
sciences. In midsummer it is impos-
sible for many to attend the meetings,
and those who do suffer great person-
al inconvenience; the week between
Christmas and New Year's Day is too
short, breaking into Christmas time
and being interrupted by Sunday. This
year, for the first time, the week after
that in which Christmas falls has been
recognized as convocation week, and
affords a convenient time for the meet-
ings.

The council of the American Associa-
tion for the Advancement of Science
meets at Chicago on January 1, and
the Section of Anthropology of the
Association holds a winter meeting at
Chicago. The Association will hold a
summer meeting at Pittsburgh next
year, but will hold a winter meeting
in Washington in the following convo-
cation week. The American Society of
Naturalists meets at Chicago on De-
cember 31 and January 1, in conjunc-
tion with the Western Naturalists, and
the national societies devoted to mor-
phology, bacteriology, anatomy, physi-
ology and psychology will meet at the
same place and on the same days and
on the days immediately preceding and
following. Other societies meet else-
where this winter; but it is expected
that they will all meet at Washington
next year, and that it will be possible
hereafter to bring together at least
once in three years the great majority
of those engaged in scientific work in
America.

THE PRESIDENT'S MESSAGE.

President Roosevelt's message to
the Congress has been more widely
read and more generally approved than
any other recent document of this kind.

284

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

It contains no platitudes worded in
questionable English; it is a vigorous
expression of a straightforward and
hopeful policy that is American rather
than partisan. Such a message should
do something towards making obsolete
that form of party government which
leads one half the people to prevent the
other half from doing anything. Even
in directions such as the maintenance
of the present tariff and the enlarge-
ment of the navy, where the president's
policy is opposed by a strong minority,
it seems that he expresses the general
sense of the nation, and in any case
the division is not along the inherited
party lines.

Apart from the emphasis on effi-
ciency and expertness in all depart-
ments of the government which gives
the whole message a certain scientific
coloring, there are several recommenda-
tions that are directly concerned with
science and its applications. Three
great engineering works are urged —
the Isthmian Canal, the Pacific Cable
and Irrigation. These enterprises are
directly dependent on applied science,
and their accomplishment, under the
direction of American engineers, will
give new opportunities for scientific
progress. It appears that we may need
to go to Great Britain for the cable,
but this ought not to be necessary five
years hence. In the case of forestry
and irrigation, Avhich are said to be
perhaps the most vital internal ques-
tions of the United States and are dis-
cussed at greater length than any
others, the president fully realizes the
need of expert and scientific direction.
It is recommended that the scientific
bureaus concerned with these subjects
bp united and put under the Depart-
ment of Agriculture. Concerning this
department the president says:

"The Department of Agriculture
during the past fifteen years has stead-
ily broadened its work on economic
lines, and has accomplished results of
real value in upbuilding domestic and
foreign trade. It has gone into new

fields until it is now in touch with all
sections of our country and with two
of the island groups that have lately
come under our jurisdiction, whose
people must look to agriculture as a
livelihood. It is searching the world
for grains, grasses, fruits and vege-
tables especially fitted for introduction
into localities in the several states and
territories where they may add ma-
terially to our resources. By scientific
attention to soil survey and possible
new crops, to breeding of new varieties
of plants, to experimental shipments,
to animal industry and applied chemis-
try, very practical aid has been given
our farming and stock-growing inter-
ests. The products of the farm have
taken an unprecedented place in our
export trade during the year that has
just closed."

The president recommends the crea-
tion of a cabinet officer, to be known as
secretary of commerce and industries.
He calls attention to the important
work of the Smithsonian Institution and
the needs of the National Museum. He
emphasizes the value of the 'National
Library,' and advocates a permanent
census bureau 'for the sake of good
administration, sound economy and
the advancement of science.'

THE NAVAL OBSERVATORY.

The President does not refer in his
message to the U. S. Naval Observa-
tory, but he doubtless approves the
recommendations in the report of Sec-
retary Long, which, if carried into
effect by the Congress, will remove the
difficulties which have so long inter-
fered with the scientific work of our
national observatory. Secretary Long
says:

"Attention is called to the first and
very important report of the board of
visitors to the Naval Observatory. I
earnestly commend its recommenda-
tions to careful consideration. This
board was created by act of Congress
in March last. I believe its visitations
will be found valuable in making the

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

285

observatory efficient and in rank with
the best institutions of the land. It
appears that no other observatory in
the world has the expenditure of so
much money, but also that its results
are not commensurate with those of
Bome other observatories the expendi-
tures of which are less. Its head
should of course be the best astrono-
mer, who has proper administrative
qualifications, that can be found in the
country. It is especially desirable
that he should have continuity of
tenure, as the observatory has un-
doubtedly suffered from frequent
changes in its superintendents.

"While the average term of service
of superintendents at Greenwich has
been twenty-eight years and at Harvard
fifteen, at the Naval Observatory it
has been only a little over three. I
urgently recommend that the legisla-
tion of the last Congress to the effect
'that the superintendent of the Naval
Observatory shall be, imtil further
legislation by Congress, a line officer of
the navy of a rank not below that of
captain,' be repealed, and that on the
contrary it be enacted that there shall
be no limitation upon the field from
which the superintendent is to be
Belected. As well might the above-
quoted statute have provided that the
commissioner of fish and fisheries
should be selected from the line of the
marine corps, or the director of the
Geological Survey from the line of the
army.

"There is no vital relation between
the navy and the observatory. It may
happen that some naval officer is pre-
eminently qualified for such a place,
in which case he would be appointed
to it, but the country is entitled to
have unlimited range of selection.
The present limitation, which shuts out
the whole body of civilian astronomers
and even any astronomer in the na\'y
who does not happen to be in the line,
or, if in the line, below the rank of
captain, is peculiar. Only a very small
proportion of naval officers are not be-

low the rank of captain, and as most
of them are required for naval services
— a requirement which is now increas-
ing— the list from which selection can
be made is a noticeably small one. It
is evident, too, from the wording of the
above quotation from the statute, that
Congress in passing it had in mind
further legislation in this respect."

JVORK OF THE DEPARTMENT OF
AGRICULTURE.

The report of the Secretary of Agri-
culture for the past year shows that
progress has been made in strengthen-
ing the organization of the National
Department of Agriculture, and in in-
creasing the breadth and efficiency of
its scientific work. Four bureaus have
been organized for the purpose of
bringing together more closely the
allied lines of work and providing for
the expansion which has been author-
ii-ed by Congress in other lines. These
are the Bureaus of Plant Industry, of
Soils, of Forestry and of Chemistry. The
Bureau of Plant Industry, the creation
of which has involved the most reor-
ganization of any of the new bureaus,
combines under one head the work in
nine different branches, each presided
over by an expert, and with a corps of
more than two hundred efficient work-
ers. The unification of work and the
closer cooperation which have resulted,
together with the economy of time in
administration, lead the secretary to
recommend a further extension of the
bureau system in the department. He
announces that preliminary plans have
been procured for a new agricultural
building, providing facilities for bring-
ing together all the administrative and
laboratory work in the various lines
under one roof.

The report shows that the depart-
ment has been alert in its efforts to ex-
tend the markets for our agricultural
products abroad, and no less so in seek-
ing to bring about the production in
this country and its new possessions of
a large part of the $400,000,000 worth

286

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of products which are at present im-
ported. One half of this now comes
from such climates as prevail in Ha-
waii, Porto Rico and the Philippine
Islands, and the secretaiy declares that
'it is the privilege and duty of the de-
partment of agriculture to teach the
people of those islands to produce what
we now buy from tropical countries.'
The establishment of experiment sta-
tions in Hawaii and Porto Rico dur-
ing the year was an important step in
that direction. Both these stations
have been placed in charge of men sent
out from the department, which has
also furnished the chief of the new
Bureau of Agriculture for the Philip-
pines, established under the War De-
partment in October. An experiment
station for the Philippines, to work
in cooperation with the new bureau, is
strongly recommended. The efficient
and valuable work of the experiment
stations all over the counti-y is becom-
ing more apparent every year, and a
broader, deeper foundation of scientific
inquiry is being laid. Cooperation be-
tween the department and the stations
has greatly increased, so as to meet
the varied national and local needs of
agriculture and extend the benefits of
agricultural investigation to every
part of the Union. This cooperation is
taking a variety of forms, such as
experiments to find grasses, forage
crops and cereal grains better adapted
to particular localities; experiments in
range renovation and management,
which are sorely needed in some sec-
tions of the West; studies of the water
requirements of crops in the irrigated
region and of the problems of water
conservation and management; soil
studies; sugar-beet production; plant-
breeding experiments, and studies on
the food of man, its preparation and
use. In the recent development of the
department's work, forestry, soil
studies and irrigation have assumed
places of prominence. The forestry
work, besides the investigations in that
subject, deals with the preparation of

working plans for the management of
forests. Applications for such plans
covering over 52 million acres are now
on file, a number being from large lum-
bering companies. The soil survey is
being carried on in different parts of
the country, and numerous funda-
mental problems are studied in the
laboratories. A new feature of this
work will be in the field of soil clima-
tology, a field which is practically new
to science. The irrigation studies
have not been confined to the arid
western states, but have been con-
tinued on a more extensive plan in the
humid climates, such as Louisiana,
Missouri, Wisconsin and New Jersey,
indicating that 'irrigation is to have
a wide field of usefulness in many sec-
tions where it is not a necessity.' The
secretary expresses himself at length
on the subject of national aid for irri-
gation, holding that public aid will be
necessary in the construction of certain
irrigation works, and that reservoirs
located in the channels of running
streams should be public works, but he
holds that the first step toward na-
tional aid should be the passage of en-
lightened codes of water laws by the
states to be benefited. In the various
other lines of research — in studies of
plant diseases and insect pests, the
origination or discovery of plants
more resistant to disease or cli-
mate, the fermentation of tobacco, and
the preparation and application of
serums and toxins for combating ani-
mal diseases — the same spirit of pro-
gress has characterized the work as in
previous years, and results of much
practical as well as scientific impor-
tance are announced.

THE NEW STAR IN PERSEUS.
No more striking astronomical dis-
covery has been made in recent years
than that of the moving nebulous
masses around Nova Persei. That re-
markable star, now apparently a
gaseous nebula, is still of about the
sixth magnitude. Flammarion, An-

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

287

toniadi and others, found on photo-
graphs of the star a halo, which did
cot appear about other stars on the
same plate, and which was thought to
be nebulous. Later it was shown by
Professor Max Wolf that this aureole
was instrumental, and due to the fact
that the Nova was rich in rays for
which the lenses were uncorrected. At
the same time Wolf found that the
Nova was surrounded by a faint
nebulosity. Long exposures with the
powerful reflecting telescopes of the
Yerkes and Lick Observatories showed
well this nebulosity, and, especially,
nebulous patches at considerable dis-
tances from the Nova. From later
photographs it was announced from the
Lick Observatory and confirmed at the
Yerkes Observatory, that these nebu-
lous masses are moving away from
the Nova. This is a discovery of the
highest importance, having a direct re-
lation to the theory of new stars. The
motion of the nebula is very great,
amounting to about 1' of arc in six
weeks. Carried backward this motion
would bring the nebulous masses at the
Nova, when the outburst occurred, a
fact of much interest. What this rate
of movement represents in miles per
second cannot be assumed safely until
the star's parallax is known. This has
not yet been determined. Our nearest
neighbor among the stars, so far as
known, has a parallax of less than 1".
A parallax as great as 1" would indicate
a velocity of something like 1,500 miles
per second. Either the Nova is very
near us, or else the velocity of the
Nebula is almost inconceivably great.
Indeed, if the parallax should prove to
be too small for measurement, the fact
would imply a velocity so great that it
might be better explained as a motion
of light, rather than of matter. The
motion, moreover, appears not to be
radial, but spiral. The broadening of
the lines of the spectrum of the Nova
furnishes a clue to the rapidity of
motion, the value of which is, however,
very doubtful. No definite conclusions

can be safely drawn until more data arc
obtained, and a satisfactory determina-
tion of the parallax is given. Mean-
while the astronomical world is watch-
ing the developments mth the keenest
interest. Incidentally the investiga-
tion is furnishing a powerful argument
for a more extended use of large re-
flecting telescopes. It may be, that the
Golden Age of the refracting telescope
has passed!

THE MAGNITUDE AND THE MASS
OF THE VISIBLE UNIVERSE.

An interesting question which often
occurs to the astronomer and the
physicist is that of the magnitude and
the material contents of the visible uni-
verse. While science is unable at pres-
ent to give a decisive answer to this
question it is nevertheless competent to
correlate the observed facts to such an
extent that a possible, if not a prob-
able, answer is already attainable. The
latest contribution to this subject is
due to the indefatigable labors of Lord
Kelvin. In the ' Philosophical Maga-
zine' for August, 1901, he attacks the
question from the dynamical side in an
article 'On ether and gravitational
matter through infinite space'; and at
the September meeting of the British
Association for the Advancement of
Science he amplified his investigation
in a paper on 'The absolute amount of
gravitational matter in any large vol-
ume of interstellar space.'

The data for Kelvin's investigation
are as follows: The part of the uni-
verse visible to us may be considered to
lie within a sphere having a radius
equal to the distance of a star whose
parallax is one thousandth of a second
of arc. This distance is about thirty
thousand million million kilometres; a
distance so great that light would re-
quire about three thousand years to
traverse it. The number of stars,
luminous and non-luminous, within
this sphere, Kelvin estimates to be
something like one thousand million.
This agrees well with the figures of

288

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

Newcomb and Young who have esti-
mated that the visible stars are fifty to
one hundred millions in number.
Assuming the average mass of these
stars to be equal to the mass of our
sun, the amount of mass in the visible
universe is about 2 X 10^" metric tons.

Now, if these thousand million suns
had been uniformly distributed within
the sphere in question, and had started
from rest twenty-five million years ago,
they would have acquired under the law
of gravitation about such velocities as
the stars are now observed to possess;
or, if thousands of millions of years ago
they started from rest at mutual dis-
tances asunder, very great in compari-
son with the radius of the supposed
sphere, and so distributed that they
would now be temporarily equally
spaced in that sphere, their mean
velocities would be of the same order
as that actually observed. A non-uni-
form initial distribution of the suns
would give higher velocities for the
stars than the observed values; and any
great increase in the assumed number
of suns would require far greater
velocities than the observed values.
Hence Kelvin infers that the amount of
mass in our universe is greater than
one hundred million times and less
than two thousand million times our
sun's mass.

That there would be plenty of room
for a thousand million suns in the
assumed sphere is shown by a striking
calculation made by KeMn. Thus, if
the suns were placed severally at the
centers of the thousand million cubes
into which their enclosing sphere may
be supposed to be divided, then each
sun would be nearly fifty million
million kilometres from each of its six
nearest neighbors. This distance is a

little greater than the distance of the
nearest fixed stars from our solar sys-
tem.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS.
The great Nobel prizes, each of the
value of about $40,000, have now been
awarded for the first time as follows:
In Medicine to Professor Behring, in
physics to Professor Rontgen, in chem-
istry to Professor van't HoflF. The
prize for the promotion of peace has
been divided between Dr. Dumant and
M. Passy, and the prize in literature
has been awarded to M. Prudhomme.

The Copley Medal of the Royal So-
ciety has been awarded to Professor J.
Willard Gibbs, of Yale University. —
Director W. W. Campbell, of the Lick
Observatory, has been elected an asso-
ciate member of the Royal Astronom-
ical Society. — Professor F. Lamson-
Scribner, of the United States Depart-
ment of Agriculture, has been given
charge of the Bureau of Agriculture
established in the Philippines.

The most important scientific news
of the month is Mr. Carnegie's offer of
$10,000,000 to endow a national uni-
versity or institution for scientific re-
search at Washington. The national
government hesitates to accept the
bonds of the United States Steel Cor-
poration offered by Mr. Carnegie, but
this is a detail which will doubtless be
arranged. — On the same day that Mr.
Carnegie's gift became known, it was
announced that Mrs. Stanford had
signed the final papers transferring
property, estimated at $30,000,000, to
Leland Stanford Junior University. It
appears that the endowment of Stan-
ford is now about equal to the combined
endowment of our three richest univer-
sities— Harvard, Columbia and Chicago.

VOL. LX. — 19.

GEEAT NEBULA IN ANDEOMEDA.

Photographed with the two-foot reflecting Telescope of the Yerkes

Observatory ( Ritchey ) .

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

PEBEUARY, 1902.

STELLAR EVOLUTION IN THE LIGHT OF RECENT

RESEARCH.*

By Peofessoe GEORGE E. HALE,

DIEECTOE OF THE YEEKES OBSEEVATOBY,
UNIVEESITY OF CHICAGO.

"A /TANY attempts have been made to sum up the work of
-^'-L the nineteenth century, and to define its principal lines of
progress. In estimates of the relative importance of the books pub-
lished during this period there has been some divergence of view, but
regarding one of them no element of doubt seems to have entered the
minds of the critics. By unanimous consent Darwin's 'Origin of
Species' is accorded a commanding position among the works which
have influenced the intellectual life of the century. It would be diflS-
cult to overestimate the effect which the doctrine of evolution has
wrought. The principle of orderly and harmonious development
which it embodies has found application, not only in explaining the
v/ide diversity of organic species, but in unifying the events of history,
in elucidating the origin of language, and in throwing light on diffi-
cult questions in every department of human knowledge. The idea of
evolution may indeed be traced back through the writings of many cen-
turies. The early philosophers, though not possessed of the immense
collection of recorded phenomena by which modern men of science may
test their theories, were constantly occupied with great problems de-
manding the widest generalization. In attempting to account for the
earth and its inhabitants they made the first steps in the direction
which Darwin subsequently pursued.

• Revised from an address delivered on June 5, 1901, before the Minnesota
Chapter of the Honorary Scientific Society of Sigma XI, University of Minne-
sota.

292 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

It would be interesting to recall the strange traditions in which
j)rimitive peoples have recorded their vague imaginings of the origin of
things. But the absence of even an attempt at careful reasoning
renders such tales of no value for our present purpose. The Greek
philosophers were not oblivious to the value of observation as a check
on speculation regarding the solar system, but the instruments then
available were too crude to give accurate positions of the heavenly
bodies. Even Copernicus, though he established the sun at the center
of our system, and thus paved the way for the nebular hypothesis, re-
tained the epicycles of the Greeks. Kepler, basing his investigations
upon the observations of Tycho Brahe, proved that the planets move
in ellipses with the sun at the focus, and removed all vestige of doubt
as to tbe general plan of the solar system. The harmony which char-
acterizes the motions of the planets and a knowledge of the effect of
gravitation le.d Kant to formulate an explanation of the origin of the
solar system, which subsequently found more perfect expression in the
Jiebular hypothesis of Laplace.

In this hypothesis Laplace seeks to account for the formation of
the sun and planets through the contraction of a vast nebulous cloud,
wliich once filled the entire solar system, extending to the orbit of Nep-
tune. This mass, which he considered to be fiery hot, was supposed to
be in rotation. As it cooled, through radiation into space, it contracted
toward the center. The result of this contraction was to increase the
velocity of rotation, and when through increasing velocity the centrif-
ugal force at the periphery counterbalanced the attraction of the cen-
tral mass, a ring Avas thrown off. Further contraction resulted in the
formation of other rings, in each of which the matter collected about
its densest part, and thus produced a planet. Before they had time to
cool these planets in turn threw off rings, which, with the single excep-
tion of Saturn's ring system, condensed into satellites.

This celebrated hypothesis, though unsupported by mathematical
proof, has occupied a dominant position since the time of its publica-
tion more than a century ago. It has been subjected to much criticism,
but most of the objections raised by Faye and others have been met by
modifications of the hypothesis. Of late it has encountered fresh
attacks on the part of Chamberlin and Moulton, and it now seems
doubtful whether it will be possible to overcome their criticisms, which
are based on dynamical considerations. It may prove to be sufficient,
however, to forsake the lenticular mass of vapor predicated by Laplace
in favor of the spiral form which Keelor has shown to characterize so
many nebula.'.

The nebular hypothesis seeks to account for a system like our own,
v,"herein a central sun is surrounded by planets and satellites, originally
self-luminous, but ultimately cooled to the point where they are lumi-

STELLAR EVOLUTION.

293

nous only through reflected light. The stars are so distant from us
that any planets which may attend them are beyond the reach of the
most powerful telescopes. In some of the planetary and spiral nebul.Ts,
such as the Great Nebula in Andromeda (Fig. 1), we perhaps

Fig. 2.
Star-trails photographed with two and one-half inch Portrait Lens (Ritchey).

observe the earlier stages of the process of condensation, but no distinct
evidence of progressive change has yet been gathered from telescopic
observation. In seeking for evidence of stellar evolution, on a plan
comprehensive enough to include a place for every star in the heavens.

2 94 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

we may begin with visual and photographic observations with the tele-
scope. Such remarkable photographs as that of the Andromeda nebula
.seem to bring us into the very presence of a greater system, more nearly
comparable in size with the Milky Way than with the solar system, in
the actual process of formation. But on account of the long periods
of time, which must elapse before changes in this distant mass may
become sufficiently great to be appreciable, and for many other reasons,
jwe could not hope to base a complete scheme of stellar evolution on
.! such photographs alone. Our observational methods must also include
;the means of solving physical, chemical and gravitational problems as
•they present themselves, not close at hand in the laboratory, but at
I inconceivably distant regions of space. For this reason it would have
\ been impossible prior to the invention of the spectroscope to arrange the
j stars according to any clearly defined system of development. The
■ principal advances which have been made in the study of stellar evolu-
tion are therefore confined to the period which has elapsed since the
middle of the nineteenth century.

Thus the investigation of stellar evolution has been contempora-
■neous with the investigation of organic evolution. Indeed, the epoch-
making discovery of the. chemical composition of the sun by Kirchhoff
and Bunsen was made in the year of the publication of the 'Origin of
Species.' Before this discovery the meaning of spectral lines had been
as obscure as the meaning of Egyptian hieroglyphs prior to the dis-
covery of the Eosetta stone. After it the chemical analysis of a star
became hardly less difficult than the analysis of an unknown substance
, in the laboratory. Furthermore, it soon became apparent that the light
of a star, as decomposed by a prism, was competent to define the star's
position in a general scheme of development, in which every advance,
from the unformed nebulous cloud on through the highest degree of
stellar brilliancy to such a final stage as is typified by the moon, can
be defined with but little danger of error. Before we proceed to con-
sider some of the evidences of stellar evolution, let us examine some of
the instruments and methods without which the discoveries to be sub-
sequently described would have been impossible.

I shall confine my remarks on modern astrophysical instru-
ments to those at present employed at the Yerkes Observatory,
partly because nearly all the celestial photographs reproduced in
the figures were taken with these instruments and partly be-
cause of the convenience of illustrating them. But before de-
scribing the great telescope which forms the principal apparatus
of the observatory, I wish to point out that many of the most
important results of astronomy, results which could not be obtained
with a powerful telescope for the very reason of its great power — have
been derived from the use of an ordinary camera, with just such a lens

STELLAR EVOLUTION. 295

as is found in the possession of thousands of amateur photographers.
If we take an ordinary camera and point it on a clear night toward the
north pole, it will be found after an exposure of one or two hours that
the stars which lie near the pole have drawn arcs of circles upon the
plate (Fig. 2). This is due to the fact that the earth is rotating upon
its axis at such a rate as to cause every star in the sky to appear to
travel through a complete circle once in twenty-four hours. The nearer
the star to the pole the smaller does this circle become. As we
move away from the pole we find the curvature of the star trails
growing less and less, until at the equator they appear as straight lines.

Just such photographs as these are frequently employed in astro-
nomical investigations; e. g., for the purpose of recording variations in
a star's brightness, which would be shown on the plate by changes in
the brightness of the trail. But for most purposes it is desirable to
have photographs of stars in which they are represented as points of
light rather than as lines. To obtain such photographs it is necessary
to mount the camera in such a way that it can be turned about
an axis parallel to the earth's axis once in twenty-four hours. A camera
so mounted becomes an equatorial photographic telescope, differing in
no important respect save in the construction of its lens from an in-
strument like the 40-inch Yerkes telescope.

But the scale of the photographs obtained with such a camera
differs in marked degree from that of the photographs furnished by
the telescope. Here, for example, is a region of the Milky Way photo-
graphed by Professor Barnard with one of the old-fashioned lenses
formerly employed in portrait galleries (Fig. 3). Such a picture as
this is of the greatest service in all studies of the structure of the Milky
Way, for it brings before us at a single glance an immense region of
the sky, thus permitting us to trace the general features which are
common to this area. You will notice in the midst of this star cloud
a little cluster of stars, here so densely packed together that no details
of the cluster can be distinguished. If our investigations required us
to single out some individual star in the cluster, perhaps for the purpose
of analyzing its light, it is evident that the portrait lens would prove
inadequate for our purpose. It is in such a case as this that an in-
strument like the 40-inch telescope comes into play. The camera with
which this photograph was taken has a lens six inches in diameter, of
thirty-one inches focal length. The great telescope has a lens forty
inches in diameter, of sixty-four feet focal length. Thus the scale of
the photographs made with the telescope is about twenty-five times that
of the photographs made with the portrait lens. The portrait lens
covers a large area of the sky on a very small scale, while the field of
the telescope is limited to a small region, which is depicted on a
large scale. Let us see the difference between the two instruments

296 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

as illustrated by the photographs themselves (compare Fig. 3 with
Fig. 4). The small cluster, which in reality contains several thou-
sands of stars, is resolved by Mr. Eitchey's photograph taken with the
large telescope into all its constituent parts, stars less than one second
of- arc apart being clearly separated on this great scale.

Fig. 3.
Star Cluster Messier 11 and the surrounding milky way.

Small scale photograph taken with portrait lens (Barnard). (The cluster, here about one-
sixteenth of an inch in diameter, lies just above the middle of the picture.)

Having seen this illustration of the superior power of the large
telescope you may perhaps be interested to become more closely ac-
quainted with the instrument itself (Fig. 5). The great weight of
the 40-inch lens, amounting with its cell to half a ton, requires that the
tube which supports it, here taking the place of the camera box of the
previous instrument, shall be of immense rigidity and strength. This

STELLAR EVOLUTION. 297

tube, 64 feet in length, is supported at its middle point by the declina-
tion axis, which in its turn is carried by the polar axis, adjusted to
accurate parallelism with the axis of the earth. By means of driving
mechanism in the upper section of the iron column the whole instru-

FlG. 4.
Star Cluster Messier 11.

Large scale photograph taken with the forty-inch Yerkes telescope (Ritchey).

ment is turned about this polar axis at such a rate that it would com-
plete one revolution in twenty-four hours. Although the moving parts
weigh over twenty tons the telescope can be directed to any part of the
sky by hand, but this operation is much facilitated by the use of electric

298

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

motors provided for the purpose. When once directed toward the object
to be observed it will frequently happen that the lower end of the tele-
scope is far out of reach above the observer's head. For this reason the

Fig. 5.
The korty-ixch telescope of the Yerkes Obseevatory.

entire floor of the observing room, 75 feet in diameter, is constructed
like an electric elevator, which by throwing a switch can be made to
rise or fall through a distance of twenty-three feet. Thus the lower
end of the telescope is rendered accessible even for objects near the

STELLAR EVOLUTION. 299

horizon. In order that the observing slit may be directed to any part
of the sky the dome, 90 feet in diameter, is mounted on wheels and can
be turned to any desired position by means of an electric motor
controlled from the rising-floor.

The telescope is used for a great variety of purposes in conjunction
with appropriate instruments, which are attached to the lower
end of the tube near the point where the image is formed. I
have already shown a photograph of a star cluster taken with
this telescope, but without describing the process of making it.
As a matter of fact the object-glass of the 40-inch telescope was
designed for visual observations, and its maker, the late Alvan
Ct. Clark, had no idea that it would ever be employed for photog-
raphy. Without dwelling upon the distinguishing features of visual and
photograpliic lenses I may say that the former is so designed by the
optician as to unite into an image those rays of light, particularly the
yellow and the green, to which the eye is most sensitive. With the only
varieties of optical glass which can be obtained in large pieces it is im-
possible to unite in a single clearly defined image all of the red, the
yellow, the green, the blue, and the violet rays which reach us from a
star. Therefore when the optician decides to produce an image most
suitable for eye observations he deliberately discards the blue and violet
rays, simply because they are less important to the eye than the yellow
and green rays. For this reason the image of a star produced by a large
refracting telescope is surrounded by a blue halo containing the rays
discarded by the optician. These very rays, however, are the ones to
which the ordinary photographic plate is most sensitive; hence in a
photographic telescope the blue and violet rays are united, while the
yellow and green rays are discarded.

The 40-inch telescope is of the first type, constructed primarily for
visual observations. In order to adapt it for photography Mr. G. W.
Eitchey of the observatory staff simply places before the (isochromatic)
plate a thin screen of yellow glass, which cuts out the blue rays, but
allows the yellow and green rays to pass. As isochromatic plates are
sensitive to yellow and green light there is no difficulty in securing an
image with the rays wliich the object-glass unites into a perfect image.
During the entire time of the exposure a star which lies just outside the
^ region to be photographed is observed through an eye-piece magnifying
],000 diameters. This eye-piece is attached to the frame which
carries the photographic plate, and is susceptible of motion in
two directions at right angles to each other. In the center of
the eve-piece are two very fine cross-hairs of spider web illuminated
by a small incandescent lamp. If the observer notices that through
some slight irregularity in the motion of the telescope, or through
some change of refraction in the earth's atmosphere, the star image is

300 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

moving away from the point of intersection of the cross-hairs, he
instantly brings it back by means of one or both of the screws. As the
plate moves with the eye-piece it is evident that this method furnishes
a means of keeping the star images exactly at the same point on the
plate throughout the entire exposure. With such apparatus data are
gathered for the study of stellar development.

Fig. G.
Great Nebula in Okion.

Photographed with the forty-inch Yerkes telescope (Ritchey).

It is easier to trace the successive steps in the development
of a -star after it has been formed than it is to account for ita
origin. But all the evidence that has been accumulated up to the
present time tends to show that stars are condensed out of the cloudlike
masses which we know as nebulse. Less than half a century has passed
since the true nature of a gaseous nebula was determined. In his ex-*
tensive observations of astronomical phenomena Sir William Herschel
examined a great number of star clusters similar to that shown in

STELLAR EVOLUTION. 301

Fig. 4. His telescope was a large one, but it can safely be said that
he never saw a cluster so well as this object can be perceived through
the aid of photograpliy. He found in studying object after object in
all parts of the heavens that many clusters could be resolved into their
constituent stars. ■ In some of these clusters the stars are widely sepa-
rated by a powerful instrument, as they appear in this photograph. In
others, either on account of their greater distance or because the stars
are less widely spaced, the central regions are no longer clearly re-
solvable as separate objects. It is thus quite possible to imagine a
cluster in which the stars are so closely grouped that no telescope, how-
ever powerful, could separately distinguish them.

Now as a matter of fact we find in all parts of the heavens luminous
objects which can not be separated into stars. Some of these are of
definite outline and are perfectly symmetrical in form, in many cases
with a brilliant star-like nucleus at their center. These are known as
the planetary nebula. Other nebulae, like the great nebula in Orion
(Fig. 6), are diffuse and irregular and extend over great regions of
the sky. It was long a question whether such objects were capable of
resolution into stars with a sufficiently powerful telescope. Herschel
rightly concluded that an important distinction can be drawn between
a nebula and a star cluster, though his son did not admit this dis-
tinction.

It was only after Huggins had applied the spectroscope to an
analysis of the light of a nebula that it could be said without danger of
contradiction that the phenomenon is not one produced by the crowding
together of separate stars, but is due to the presence of a mass of incan-
descent gas. Sir William Huggins' account of his first spectroscopic
examination of a nebula is recorded in the first volume of the 'Publica-
tions of the Tulse Hill Observatory' :

''On the evening of August 29, 1864, I directed the spectroscope for
the first time to a planetary nebula in Draco. I looked into the spec-
troscope, No spectrum such as I had expected ! A single bright line
only ! At first I suspected some displacement of the prism, and that I
was looking at a reflection of the illuminated slit from one of its faces.
This thought was scarcely more than momentary; then the true inter-
pretation flashed upon me. The light of the nebula was monochro-
matic and so, unlike any other light I had as yet subjected to prismatic
examination, could not be extended out to form a complete spectrum.
After passing through the two prisms it remained concentrated into a
single bright line, having a width corresponding to the width of the
slit, and occupying in the instrument a position at that part of the
spectrum to which its light belongs in refrangibility. A little closer
looking showed two other bright lines on the side towards the blue,
all three lines being separated by intervals relatively dark. The riddle

302 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the nebulae was solved. The answer, which had come to us in the
light itself, read : Not an aggregation of stars, but a luminous gas."

With this advance a new era of progress began. The power of the
spectroscope to distinguish between a glowing gas and a mass of partially
condensed vapors like a star established it at once in its place as the chief
instrument of the student of stellar evolution. It became apparent that
the unformed nebula might furnish the stuff from which stars are
made. Observations tending to this conclusion were not long in pre-
senting themselves. In the heart of the Orion nebula are four small
stars which constitute the well-known Trapezium. Situated as they
are in the midst of this far-reaching mass of gas, it is not hard to
picture them as centers of condensation, toward which the play of
gravitational forces tends to concentrate the gases of the nebula. It
might therefore be expected that stars in this early stage of growth
should show through the spectroscopic analysis of their light some
evidence of relationship with the surrounding nebula. Now this is pre-
cisely what the spectroscope has demonstrated. Not only these stars,
but many other stars in the constellation of Orion, are shown by the
spectroscope to contain the same gases which constitute the nebula.
I'or this and other reasons they are considered to represent one of the
earliest stages of stellar growth.

It may be many years before the exact nature of the process by
which a star is formed from a nebulous mass is clearly understood.
Shortly before his death the late Professor Keeler made a most im-
portant discovery in the course of his photographic work with the
Crossley reflector of the Lick Observatory. Spiral nebulse have long
been known, but it was not supposed that they were sufficiently numer-
ous to be regarded as type objects. The great spiral nebula illustrated
in Fig. 7 from one of Mr. Ritchey's recent reflector photographs has
long been regarded as one of the most remarkable objects in the
heavens, and the possible significance of its form had by no means been
overlooked. But few astronomers were prepared for Professor Keeler's
announcement that the majority of nebulse are of the spiral form and
that many thousands of these objects are within the reach of such an
instrument as the Crossley reflector. It does not seem improbable that
this spiral form may prove to represent the original condensing mass
more truly than the lenticular form from which Laplace imagined the
solar system to be evolved.

Enough has already been said to indicate how large a part the
methods of spectroscopy must play in a study of the life history of
stars. In spite of the common opinion that the spectroscope is an intri-
cate instrument and that the principles of spectroscopy are obscure and
difficult of comprehension, it is a fact that the processes used in thife
field of investigation can be easily understood by any one who will

STELLAR EVOLUTION.

303

devote a very small amount of time to the subject. As you doubtless
know, the essential feature of a star spectroscope is the prism or train
of prisms by which the star light is divided into its constituent parts.
After passing through the prisms the light of the star is spread out
into a long band, which shows all the colors of the rainbow, beginning

Fig. 7.

Spiral Nebula in Canes Venatici.

Photographed with the two-foot reflecting telescope of the Yerkes Observatory (Kitchey).

with red at one end and passing through orange, yellow, green and
blue, to violet at the other. This band is crossed by lines, and the
problem of the spectroscopist is to interpret the meaning of these lines.
If the lines are dark he knows that the light of the star after originat-

304 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing ill an interior incandescent body has passed through a mass of
cooler vapors, and that during its transmission some of the light has
suffered absorption. If, on the other hand, the lines are bright, he
knows that the region where they are produced is hotter than that lying
below. Thus a single glance at the spectrum of a star is sufficient to
give important information regarding the physical condition of its
atmosphere.

But the spectral lines are able to tell a far more complete story of
stellar conditions. If their exact position in the spectrum can be
measured it becomes possible to determine the chemical composition
of the star's atmosphere. And here the spectroscopist may be said to
have the advantage of the archeologist, in that the key to stellar
hieroglyphs is a master key, capable of interpreting not merely the
language of a single people or a single age, but of laying bare the
secrets of the most distant portions of the universe and applying with
equal force to the primitive and to the most highly developed forms of
celestial phenomena. If we take a piece of iron wire and turn it into
vapor in the intense heat of an electric arc lamp we find that the light
Avhich the glowing iron vapor emits, when spread out into a spectrum
by a prism, consists of a series of lines characteristically spaced and
always occupying the same relative positions. In the same way every
other element when transformed into vapor by a sufficiently intense
heat emits characteristic radiations, consisting of groups of lines
occupying definite positions in the spectrum. It is thus easy to see how
the presence of iron vapor can be detected in the atmosphere of Sirius
or in that of the sun. In the spectrum of each of these stars we find
a group of lines occupying the same relative positions as the lines fur-
nished by the iron vapor in an electric arc. Hydrogen gives an even
more characteristic group of lines, which grow closer and closer together
as we pass from the red end of the spectrum toward the violet. This
group occurs in the spectra of thousands of stars and serves as an
important guide in determining a star's place in a general scheme of
stellar evolution.

The practical means of carrying out this method of research may
be illustrated by a reference to the stellar spectroscope employed with
the 40-inch Yerkes telescope. The spectroscope is rigidly attached to
the lower end of the telescope tube. The image of a star formed by
the 40-inch lens passes into the spectroscope through a slit about one
one-thousandth of an inch wide. After analysis by a train of three
prisms an image of the resulting spectrum is formed by a suitable lens
upon a photographic plate. In making the photograph it is only
necessary to keep the image of a star exactly on the slit throughout
the exposure, which may occupy from one minute to several hours, the
duration depending upon the brightness of the star.

STELLAR EVOLUTION. 305

We have seen that a single ghmce at the spectrum of a star is suffi-
cient to give us important information as to the structure of its atmos-
phere, while a study of the position of the lines tells what chemical
elements are present. We might go on to consider how the width and
sharpness of the lines, together with shifts in their position toward the
red end of the spectrum, furnish the means of estimating the density
of the vapors and the pressure to which they are subjected. The
relative intensities of certain lines also serve as a clue to the tempera-
ture. Thus in the spectrum of magnesium there is a pair of lines, one
of which is the stronger at the temperature of the electric spark, while
the other is the stronger at the lower temperature of the electric arc.
In the spectra of certain stars the greater intensity of the first line
indicates that the temperature is high and approximates that of the
electric spark, while in other stars the relative intensities are reversed,
indicating that the temperature is lower and corresponds more closely
with that of the electric arc. In addition to all this, certain easily
measurable changes in the position of the spectral lines are known
from Doppler's principle to indicate motion of the star in the direction
of the earth. Thus if the lines are shifted toward the red with reference
to their normal position, and if we have evidence that the shift is not
due to pressure, we may conclude that the distance between the earth
and the star is increasing, while if the lines are shifted toward the violet
we conclude that the distance between the earth and the star is decreas-
ing. As the earth's motion is known, the velocity of the star in the
line of sight can therefore be accurately determined.

After this glance at the methods employed by the spectroscopist,
we may return to a further consideration of the stages of stellar evolu-
tion. We have seen that the long continued action of gravity tends to
produce condensation of a cosmical cloud. The constellation of Orion
contains many examples of stars in this early stage of development. As
the mass condenses its temperature rises, and corresponding with this
rise in temperature and in the density of the vapors which constitute
the star we find characteristic changes in the spectrum and also in the
star's color. Such a brilliant white or bluish-white star as Sirius or
Vega may be taken as representative of the next stage of stellar develop-
ment. Here the broad bands of hydrogen, which constitute a beautiful
series expressible by a simple mathematical formula, serve as the chief
mark of distinction. The conditions are not yet ripe for the marked
development of metallic lines, though doubtless the numerous elements
which constitute the sun and which for the most part are familiar to
us on the earth, are present in such stars, though they are not
revealed through a study of the spectrum. It is true that evidence
exists of the presence of iron and a few other substances, but the
lines are thin and few in number and would be overlooked in a

VOL. LX.— 20.

3o6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

casual examination of the spectrum. The period for their greatest
development has not yet arrived. The light gas hydrogen, reaching
far above the white-hot mass of condensed vapors which constitutes
the nucleus of the star, is at this stage the predominant element, at
least so far as we may judge from a study of the light radiation.

An interesting question has arisen regarding the period in a star's
life at which the highest temperature is attained. The apparently
paradoxical statement of Lane's law that the temperature of a cooling
mass of incandescent vapors, instead of falling, actually increases until
a certain stage has passed, applies in the present instance. We indeed
Icnow that a condensing nebula losing heat by radiation into space will
continue to rise in temperature for thousands and even millions of
years. A question which has received some discussion of late is with
regard to the precise period at which the maximum temperature occurs.
Shall we seek it in white stars like Sirius or in yellow stars like the
sun, which represents the next well-defined stage of stellar evolu-
tion? With an instrument of extraordinary delicacy Professor Nichols
has recently measured at the Yerkes Observatory the amount of heat
v.'hich we receive from Vega and Arcturus. The distance of these
stars is so inconceivably great that the quantity of heat which they
send to the surface of the earth has hitherto been too small to be de-
tected by the most sensitive instruments. Professor Nichols' radiometer,
which in combination with a large concave mirror renders it easy to
measure the heat radiated from a man's face 2,000 feet away, proved
adequate for the task. He found that Arcturus sends us about as much
heat as we should get from a candle six miles away if there were no
intervening atmosphere to reduce the candle's intensity. Vega, which
to the eye is precisely equal to Arcturus in brightness, was found to send
us only half as much heat. If the absorbing atmospheres of Arcturus
and Vega were similar in character, it would follow from Professor
Nichols' results that Vega, though it sends us less heat, is really the
hotter of the two stars. For we know from laboratory experiments that
the proportion of long (heat) waves to short (light) waves is greater
in the radiation of the cooler of two bodies heated to incandescence.
In this case the fact that Arcturus sends the greater amount of heat
would be ascribed rather to greater size than to lesser distance, as there
is good reason to believe that it is farther from us than Vega.

But unfortunately tlie dissimilarity of the atmospheres of the two
stars renders it uncertain whether such conclusions can safely be drawn.
This is particularly true in view of the fact that Sir William Huggins
concludes from his spectroscopic studies that the highest stage of stellar
temperature is reached in stars like Vega, while stars like Arcturus and
the Sun have passed the stage of highest temperature and are already
well advanced in their decline.

STELLAR EVOLUTION. 307

While some uncertainty must therefore prevail until further in-
vestigations have been completed regarding the exact stage at which the
liighest stellar temperatures are attained, there can be little doubt as
tc the path which is followed when through the long continued action
of gravitation a young star like Vega develops into a star like the Sun.
We are fortunate in possessing examples of a great number of inter-
mediate stages in this orderly progress ( Fig. 8 ) . As condensation con-
tinues, and as the vapors which constitute the star continue to crowd
upon each other, the stellar nucleus becomes denser and denser and the
vast atmosphere of hydrogen gradually gives place to a much shallower
atmosphere, in which hydrogen is still conspicuous, though it no longer
predominates in a very striking manner over the other elements. The
spectral lines of such elements as iron, magnesium, sodium and cal-

a

i_

!'• I i

Fig. 8.
Characteristic spectra of (a) white, (6) yellow, and (c) red stars (Huggins).

cium, rise into prominence as the hydrogen lines fade. Meanwhile the
light of the star undergoes a change of color, completely losing its
Ijluish cast and assuming a distinctly yellow hue. There can be little if
any doubt that our own sun once passed through the successive stages
which are represented by the spectra shown in Fig. 8. The time which
has elapsed since it acquired its present size and density as the result of
the condensation of the great nebula in which the earth and the other
planets also had their origin, covers many millions of years. It is fortu-
nate for the study of stellar evolution that the stages through which the
sun once passed are all exemplified in existing stars, which for unknown
reasons began their stellar life at widely different times.

It will be profitable to consider for a moment some of the remark-
able phenomena which are presented to us by the sun, not only because
of their intrinsic interest, but also because it is perfectly safe to assume
that similar phenomena, sometimes on a much greater scale, would be
presented by other stars, were they not at so great a distance from the
earth as to reduce them to mere points of light, even in the most power-

3o8

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

ful telescope. The sun has a diameter of 860,000 miles and, as its dis-
tance from the earth is only 93,000,000 miles, an extremely small frac-
tion of the distance of the other stars, it is possible to observe and to
study in detail its extraordinary phenomena, which are incomparably
more violent than anything observed on the earth. When we speak of
the sun we speak collectively of a great number of phenomena, some of
which extend for millions of miles from the sun's visible disk. Chief of
these is the corona, a vast filmy atmosphere so rare that it offers little or
no resistance to the passage of a comet, as it sweeps around the sun
under the action of gravitation and returns into the space from which
it came. The polar streamers of the corona (Fig. 9) suggest the

Fig. 9. The Solar Coeona.

Photographed by Yerkes Observatory Eclipse Expedition, May 28, 1900 (Barnard and

Kitchey).

action of magnetic forces and offer material for long continued study
of this, the most mysterious of all the solar appendages. At the base of
the corona, rising out of a sea of flame which completely encircles the
sun, are the prominences, some of which occasionally attain a height
of nearly 400,000 miles. Like the corona, the prominences are hidden
by the brilliant illumination of our own atmosphere, and are visible to
the naked eye only when the direct light of the sun's disk is cut off by

ST ELL All E 1 'OL UTION.

309

the interposition of the moon at a total eclipse. But methods have been
devised by which they can be observed or photographed on any clear
day through the agency of a modified form of spectroscope. The prom-
inences are constantly changing in form, sometimes slowly, as in the
case of this group (Fig. 10), a photograph of which, taken at the eclipse
of May 28, 1900, by the Astronomer Eoyal of England in Spain, is
shown for comparison with the photograph taken about two hours
earlier by the Yerkes Observatory party in North Carolina. Here the

Fig. 10.
Cloud-like Prominexces photographed at the Eclipse of May 28, 1900. a, by
Yerkes Observatory' Party' at Wadesboro, N. C. 6, by Astronomer Royal of England
AT Ovar, Portugal, two holtrs later. (The bright cross on the right of this picture
is due to a defect in the original photograph.)

change in the form of the mass of gas which constitutes the prominence,
is comparatively small, but that violent forces are sometimes at work
may be illustrated by photographs of an eruptive prominence taken at
the Kenwood Observatory in 1895 (Fig. 11). At the moment
when the first photograph was made the prominence had at-
tained a height of 160,000 miles and was rising rapidly. Eighteen
minutes later another picture was taken; during the interval
the prominence had been going upward at the rate of six thousand miles
a minute, and when the exposure was made it had reached an elevation
of 280,000 miles. When looked for a few minutes later it had com-
pletely disappeared.

The constitution of the chromosphere, the sea of flame some 10,000
miles deep from which the prominences arise, increases in complexity
as the surface of the solar disk is approached. In its upper part only
the vapor of calcium and the light gases, hydrogen and helium, are
found. But in proceeding downward the vapors of magnesium, sodium,
iron, chromium, and last of all, carbon, are successively encountered.
At this part of the solar atmosphere the dark lines of the solar spectrum
take their rise through the effect of absorption.

Time does not permit a detailed description of the phenomena of

3IO

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the sun's disk. When photographed with an instrument which excludes
from the sensitive plate all light except that which is characteristic of
the vapor of calcium, its surface is found to be dotted over with ex-
tensive luminous regions. Associated with these are the sun-spots,
the minute study of which has revealed some strikingly beautiful
phenomena, which have been most successfully drawn by Langley.
The surface of the sun in the regions devoid of spots is shown by the
photographs of Janssen to consist of brilliant granules separated by
darker spaces. Much might be said of the peculiar law of rotation
of the sun, which causes a point near the equator to complete an axial
rotation in much less time than a point nearer the poles. Much
might also be said of the periodicity of sun-spots, which at times are

■

^H

H

^ff

1

^^^Tn^tV^

' '-\ 'M'

r

■

pjl^

■

'^'?* <j^ r

X

P

'

^^T^^^^

■'- .'>>'■ -..

Wm^jl^^^a.

gmg

IHhMi

mmm^.

': -

a Fig. 11. 6

Eruptive prominence photographed in full sunlight at the Kenwood Observ-
atory, Chicago, March 25, 1895. a, at IOh. 40m. (height, 162.000 miles), b, at IOh. 58m
height, 281,000 miles). (Figs. 10 and 11 are reproduced on the same scale.)

very numerous and again, as at present, are absent from the sun's disk
for weeks together. But enough has already been told to indicate some
of the chief characteristics of this central star of the solar system,
which has thousands of counterparts among other stars of the same
spectral class.

We are now approaching the last chapters in the life history of a
star. After the solar stage has passed the color changes from yellow to
orange, and subsequently to red, as the temperature falls. The spectral
lines of hydrogen become fainter and fainter and finally disappear com-
pletely. The lines of the metallic elements, on the contrary, become more
and more complex and the changes in their relative intensities are those
which are characteristic of lower temperatures. But curiously enough.

:>TELLAR EYOLUTIOX.

311

there are two well-defined classes of these older stars, which until recently
were not known to have any points in common except their red color.
These are the stars of Secchi's third and fourth types. In general
appearance their spectra are wholly unlike, particularly on account of
the absence from third class spectra of the broad dark bands due to the
absorption of carbon vapor, the most characteristic feature of the fourth
type. But in spite of this apparent dissimilarity, photographs recently
taken with the 40-inch Yerkes telescope show that in certain regions of
the spectrum stars of the two types are practically identical and are
thus probably more closely related than formerly appeared to be the

I

n

M

Fig. 12.
Spectra of four red stars (Hale and Ellerman). Showing how the dark band

DUE TO carbon INCREASES IN INTENSITY AS THE STAR COOLS.

case. The measurements and reductions of a long series of photographs
of fourth type spectra now in progress at the Yerkes Observatory should
soon permit us to fonn an opinion of the nature of these interesting
stars.

In both the third and fourth types it is easy to trace the successive
stages of development. In stars of the fourth type the signs of in-
creasing age are particularly striking. The carbon vapor which pro-
duces the broad dark bands becomes denser and denser, until it is not
difficult to imagine that through the further increase of such absorption
the light of the star might be completely extinguished (Fig. 12).

312

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

The phenomena of the red stars indicate that this final stage is
close at handj and curiously enough, in further testimony of the re-
markable power of the spectroscope, the total extinction of a star's light
does not always prove sufficient to place that star beyond the reach of
this instrument. It is true that a spectroscope cannot reveal the chem-
ical composition of a solid body which is devoid of intrinsic light, but
such a body may form a system with another object which is still lumin-

FlG. 13.
LuNAE_ Crater TiiicopiiiLrs and suerouxdixg region. Photographed with the

FOETY-INCH YeRKES TELESCOPE (RlTCHEY).

ous, and its gravitational power may cause the luminous body to move in
an orbit. As we have already seen, the spectrosco|)e is capable of reveal-
ing the motions of such a body. From a knowledge of these motions and
the time in which the revolution is effected it is possible to determine
the mass and dimensions of the system, and in some special cases like
that of Algol, the diameter and density of the invisible component of
the pair.

STELLAR EVOLUTION. 313

"We must look to the solar system for examples of stars in the last
stage of development. Each of the planets may in fact be regarded as
an object of this kind. The bare and rocky surface of the moon affords
a desolate picture of what may result from this long continued process
of condensation. The volcanic region which is shown to excellent
advantage in a photograph recently taken with the Yerkes telescope,
(Fig. 13) gives no evidence of the existence of life; in fact, the spectro-
scope indicates that if there is any air on the moon it is much too rare
to support life as we know it.

Fortunately, the moon is not the only example of a worn-out
star. The earth, which probably has many counterparts in the universe,
is another example of a less desolate kind. Here, though the process of
condensation which is the chief cause of celestial phenomena has ceased,
the problem of evolution has not ended. In fact, though the cosmical
problems which we have considered in their barest elements will not be
completely solved for centuries, it may be truly said that the questions
raised by the countless living organisms in a single drop of ditch water
are still more complex, and will require a still longer time for their solu-
tion.

114 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

WINGED EEPTILES.

By Professor S. W. WILLISTON,
university of kansas.

OF the cold-blooded, air-breathing animals known as true reptiles
there are now in existence upon the globe more than four thou-
sand species, classified by naturalists in four very distinct groups or
orders — the Ehynchocephalia, Crocodilia, Chelonia and Squamata. Of
the Ehynchocephalia, there is but a single species now living, the Tuatera
or Sphenodon, confined to the islands off the northeast of ISTew Zealand,
and very rare. It is a small animal, seldom attaining a length of twenty
inches, lizard-like in habits and appearance. Though now so near ex-
tinction, the order during Paleozoic times was an important one, both
in size and variety. No older reptiles are known.

The Crocodilia, inclusive of the alligators and gavials (better
garials) number at the present time scarcely twenty-five species, confined
to tropical and subtropical shores of both the old and the new worlds.
Of great size, cruel and sluggish in disposition, they seem to be a re-
minder of those times when size, rapacity and cruelty characterized
their class on land, in the air and in the water. Though approaching
extinction, these modern representatives of what was at one time a far
more numerous and widely distributed order are the specialized de-
scendants of an ancestral line scarcely less ancient than the rhyncho-
cephalian. In form and size, and probably also in habits, the croco-
dilia have varied comparatively little throughout the greater part of
their long period of existence upon the earth.

Were none of the Chelonians — the tortoises and turtles — now living,
the extinct forms would appear to us among the most remarkable of
vertebrate animals, so little interest do familiar things incite. Like
the crocodilia and rhynchocephalia, they are among the oldest of rep-
tiles; 3'et in number and variety at the present time they are inferior
only to the lizards and snakes, and may truly be said, after the lapse of
many millions of years, to be only now at or but recently past the zenith
of their development. In the past there have been species perhaps twice
or thrice as large as any now in existence — from the Bad Lands of
Dakota there is known one sea-turtle twelve or more feet in expanse
of shell, with a skull nearly as large as that of a horse — but in type of
structure the very oldest that we know differed but slightly from some
that are now living.

WINGED REPTILES. 315

On the other hand, the Squamata (so called because of the scaly
covering which characterizes them) are the most modern of all reptiles.
They number now more than thirty-four hundred species, about equally
divided between the lizards and snakes, the only modern representatives
of the order. In the remote past so far as we can trace the broken line
of descent, the ancestral forms had but a single conspicuous offset, the
rapacious mosasaurs, which had, however, a comparatively brief ex-
istence. The lizards, like the snakes, probably go back little or no fur-
ther than the Age of Mammals. They are, with few exceptions, terres-
trial animals of small size and inoffensive habits; the largest living
examples scarcely exceed six feet in length, though within the period of
man's existence there have been lizards five or six times as long.

Snakes or serpents, the latest, and in many respects the most special-
ized, of all reptiles, have not yet reached the culmination of their
development, a statement which perhaps may not be truthfully made of
any other group of reptiles. Their geological history is insignificant
and scanty. The venomous serpents especially present the latest modi-
fications of reptilian structure, perhaps the very latest antecedent to the
final extinction of the whole class.

No reptiles at the present time walk erect, as did many of the extinct
kinds. Their progression is essentially a crawling one, their legs, when
present, serving more for propulsion than support. The only exceptions
to strictly arboreal, terrestrial or aquatic habits among living reptiles are
found in the curious and beautiful little flying lizards, or ' flying
dragons,' of the Malayan region. In these reptiles, the flattened body is
provided with a broad, wing-like expansion of the skin of its sides, sup-
ported by the elongate, movable ribs, and capable of being folded up,
fan-like. Similar membranous expansions are also found on the sides
of the throat. By these means the creature, which lives for the most
part among the tree tops, rarely descending to the ground, is capable of
certain aerial movements, though not of true flight. In describing its
habits a writer has said : "As the lizard lies in shade along the trunk of
a tree, its colors at a distance appear like a mixture of brown and gray
and render it scarcely distinguishable from the bark. There it remains
with no sign of life, except the restless eyes, watching passing insects,
which, suddenly expanding its wings, it seizes with a sometimes con-
siderable, unerring leap." Their flight through the air is very swift,
so swift that the expansion of the parachute-like membrane may almost
escape notice. As in the flying fishes, flying lemurs and flying squirrels,
there is not true flight — a power possessed by no living back-boned ani-
mals except birds and bats.

Altogether the direct antecedents of the reptiles now living, that is
the crocodiles, turtles, lizards and snakes of the past, took no important
part in the great Age of Eeptiles. They have existed all these millions

3i6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of years, some of them at least, because of their comparative insignifi-
cauee among their many powerful relatives. Of these relatives, the huge
dinosaurs, the swimming iehthyosaurs, plesiosaurs and mosasaurs, and
the flying ornithosaurs, with others scarcely less renowned in geological
history, are known only from the scanty records of the rocks.

Of all the reptiles of the past, perhaps the most extraordinary, the
ones which departed most from the reptilian type in form and habits, as
well as the most highly specialized of all cold-blooded animals of the
past or present, were the ornithosaurs or pterodactyls. They made tlieir
appearance in geological history, so far as is known, suddenly and in a
highly developed state; we know nothing of their antecedents, nor in-
deed of their descendants. They flourished through millions of years
in great numbers and multitudinous forms, and then, evidently, as sud-
denly disappeared. So different were these flying creatures from any
others of the past or present that their proper place in the animal king-
dom has been disputed. They were at flrst thought to be birds, and so
described; and this idea of their relationship found expression in the
name by which they are more properly known, the ornithosaurs or bird-
reptiles. Some authorities would even yet give them a place all their
own among animals, coordinate with the birds and reptiles. But they
are now so well known to students of extinct life, and in so many
forms, that there can scarcely be longer a serious question of their
real, though highly modified, reptilian affinities. It is not impossible,
however, though somewhat improbable, that they were, unlike others
of their class, warm-blooded animals ; it is at least highly probable that
their circulatory and respiratory systems reached a much higher degree
of perfection than is the case in any cold-blooded animals of the present
time.

Restoration of Pteranodon (Ornithostoma). Expanse of Wings, Nineteen Feet, Six

Inches.

As flying organisms they attained the highest degree of specialization
that has ever been reached among animals with a back-bone, at least so
far as their skeleton was concerned. Some of them, indeed, seem to
have nearly lost all other powers of locomotion — they could move
through the air only. Furthermore, the relative proportion between
volant surface and bodj^-weight in some of these pterodactyls has been

. WINGED REPTILES. 3^7

excelled only among insects. They were, par excellence, organisms of
flight, to which function all else, so far as was compatible with existence,
was subservient.

It was only among the later geological forms, however, that this
fight specialization was carried to its extreme, a fact which has its
parallel in not a few other classes of animals, where it lias been only in

Skeleton of Pteranodon (Oexithostoma).

(lie last bitter struggles for existence that the evolution of the type has
been carried to its uttermost. In the accompanying figure is given a
restoration of Pteranodon, one of these most highly specialized ptero-
dactyls, based upon skeletons from the Cretaceous chalk of western Kan-
sas. As in all restorations of extinct animals which departed widely
from any now in existence, entire truthfulness of expression and
appearance can not be expected. A more or less close approximation to
the living picture is, however, assured from a complete knowledge of the
skeleton and the impression in the rocks of form and of membranes,
which have been preserved with the bones of allied forms. I use the
more widely known name Pteranodon for this animal, though I believe it
to be identical with the European genus previously called Ornithostoma.
The body of Pteranodon was short and relatively small; the legs
were slender and wealc, and loosely jointed ; the toes were small and
delicate, with little or no grasping power, and without claws; the tail
was rudimentary. As if in compensation for the greatly reduced pos-
terior part of the body, the whole anterior part — the head, neck, thorax
and anterior limbs — was extraordinarily developed. The head was slen-
der and elongate, with a dagger-like beak, possibly covered with a
horny sheath, and the jaws were wholly toothless. In the largest
species the head measured ov^ four feet in length, and its equilibrium
was maintained by a strange prolongation backward of the skull. The
nostrils were placed far back, and the eyes were protected by a ring of
bony plates, similar to those of the eyes of hawks and owls. The neck
was long and strong, and very flexible, with a remarkable series of
additional articulations unlike anything found in the neck bones
of other animals, whereby the thrusting and striking power of the beak
was greatly intensified.

3i8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

But it was in the fore limbs and their attachments that the re-
markable adaptation for flight of these animals is found. The
shoulder-blade and coracoid, functionally replacing the collar-bone
of many animals, were fused together into a stout curved bone,
articulating in front with the broad breast-bone and behind with the
spines of several fused back-bones or vertebrae. These two shoulder
bones thus formed a complete, stout ring, firmly attached in front and
behind. Such a mode of articulation of these bones is found in no
other animal. To add further to the strength and rigidity of the
thorax, the strong upper ribs were not movably articulated, but coossified
with the vertebrae. Altogether, the large and broad breast-bone, the
complete shoulder-ring, the rigidly fixed u^per ribs and the immov-
able vertebrae furnished a support for the attachment of the enormous
wing and its necessary muscles that has no parallel for strength among
other animals.

Among the higher animals there
are three types of structure whereby
the fore limbs are modified into
organs of flight. In birds, the arm
and fore-arm bones are elongated
and strengthened; the bones of the
wrist are fused together or wanting,
while the few bones of the fingers
are welded together and made to
Wing of Bat. ^^i^ge sideways. In the bat, among

mammals, all the bones, save those
of the wrist, are elongated and slender. The very slender fingers are
spread out fan-like laterally to support the membrane which replaces
the feathers of the bird.

In the pterodactyls, the volant surface, as in the bats, was presented
by a thin membrane, which extended from the fore limb to the sides of
the body. The bones of the arm were strong, with strong projections
for the attachment of muscles; those of the wrist were few in number
and closely united. The rudimentary first finger, or thumb, consisting
of a single slender bone, was turned backward toward the shoulder for
the support of the membrane in front of the elbow. The second, third
and fourth fingers were entire, but very small and slender, and were
provided at their extremities with very sharp and strongly curved
claws. While these fingers were flexible and prehensile, their small
size and weakness of attachment (they did not articulate with the wrist)
suggest that their only use was for clinging. In strange contrast with
these small fingers, the fifth digit, that is the one corresponding to the
little finger of the human hand, was enormously elongated and strong,
including by far the largest bones of the entire skeleton. Between

WINGED REPTILES.

319

its first and second bones there was a marvelously perfect pulley-like
joint, permitting the flexion of the finger through an arc of nearly one
hundred and eighty degrees. When not in use in support of the wing
membrane, the finger could have been folded back close to the arm,
touching each other nearly on the back. In fact these bones have been
found fossilized in this position.

Attached to the whole length of the arm and finger to its curved
extremity, there was a thin, and certainly strong, membrane, which
continued on the sides of the body and legs, probably quite to the
rudimentary feet. Impressions of this membrane have been found,
showing every fold and crease, as though cast in plaster-of-paris.

In size these highly specialized
pterodactyls reached, as outspread
in fiight, the enormous expanse of
more than nineteen feet from tip to
tip of fingers. The length of the
body from tip of bill to toes was
about eight feet of which the head
was nearly a half. Contemporane-
ous with these gigantic species were
many others of smaller size, while
related forms of an earlier period
scarcely exceeded the stature of a
common sparrow.

The earlier pterodactyls were
smaller and in many other respects
much less specialized than the latter
ones, that is they departed less
widely from the true reptilian type.
Of these perhaps the best known
is the Ehamphorhynchus, a res-
toration of which is given herewith, based upon a nearly com-
plete skeleton in the Yale Museum, a specimen of great interest,
because it shows so clearly the impressions of the wing membrane,
wholly without hair, feathers or scales. In this pterodactyl, the jaws
were provided with long and sharp teeth, the neck was less stout,
the shoulders were loosely articulated, the bones of the wings less
elongated, the legs stouter. Furthermore, it had a long, slender
and flexible tail, provided at its extremity with a diamond-
shaped membranous expansion, which doubtless served as a steering
organ or rudder in flight. Between the Ehamphorhynchus and Ptera-
nodon there were many intermediate forms, both large and small, with
and without teeth. Species of Ornithocheirus, nearly as large as those
of Pteranodon, which they closely resembled, except in the presence

H

\

Anterior Extremity of Wing of Ptera-
nodon, Nine Feet in Length.

320

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of teeth, are known from the chalk of England. Ehamphorhynchus
and the still earlier Dimorphodon, as well as the later Pterodactylus
are from the Jurassic deposits of England.

Restoeation of KiiA.Mi'iioRHYNcrs. One-eighth Natural Size After Marsh.

That the Pteranodon had a marvelous capacity for flight, there
can be hardly a question. Their remains are often found in the Kan-
sas marine chalk deposits associated with others of deep-sea animals,
and many miles away from the ancient shore lines; found so com-
pletely preserved that they never could have drifted far. With their
remains have been found the fossilized stomach contents, including
comminuted fish bones and scales. The bones of their skeletons were

View of Cretaceous Chalk Deposits of Western Kansas.

very hollow and light, perhaps more so than in any other animals that
have ever lived; so light indeed that a finger bone twenty-six inches
in length might be best likened to a hollow cylinder of blotting paper

WINGED REPTILES. 321

two inches in diameter; and this hollowness extended into nearly
every bone of the skeleton, from the toes to the ribs and the slcull.
Moreover, the bones were all of fine and firm texture, and the sutures
or immovable joints throughout the body were fused or anchylosed, as
is the case with birds, thus giving the maximum of strength with the
minimum of weight. The larger bones had each one or two pneumatic
openings in them, through which doubtless entered ramifications of
the bronchial tubes, as in birds.

Altogether the weight of a Pteranodon of the largest size in life
could scarcely have reached twenty-five pounds — the bones of the
skeleton having an expanse of twenty feet, even as petrified, do not
weigh more than five or six pounds. This extreme lightness, together
with the vast expansion of the volant membranes, suggests as a com-
parison the hull and sails of a Columbia or Shamrock. With the per-
fect and delicate construction and their strong articulations, the fusion
of all loose bones, the presence of sclerotic plates in the eyes giving
greater control over vision in high altitudes and in the dark, the pos-
session of a relatively large and bird-like brain, all conclusively demon-
strate the flight powers of these singular reptiles.

Upon land even the best of the pterodactyls must have been awk-
ward and ungainly, creeping about upon hands and feet, impeded by
the cumbersome head and flapping membranes. It is doubtful, indeed,
whether the more highly specialized forms like Pteranodon often
voluntarily sought the surface of the ground; they doubtless spent the
most of the time while not flying, suspended from cliffs and trees by
means of their slender, clawed fingers. In the air they reigned supreme
and alone, save for the small toothed birds which were then making
their appearance in geological history, and which may often have
served as delicious tid-bits for their insatiable maws. The sharp,
dagger-like beak, driven by the powerful neck, was certainly a murder-
ous weapon against their enemies, whether upon land or in the air.
That they laid eggs, like most reptiles, is almost certain. Did they
build nests in inaccessible heights?

That the ornithosaurs for a long time enjoyed a wide distribution
throughout the world is certain — their remains have been discovered in
the most remote parts of the earth, and wherever the conditions were
favorable for their existence and the rocks for the represervation of
their remains, traces of them may be confidently expected to be found.
In ISTorth America, with a single exception, their fossilized bones have
been discovered only in the Cretaceous deposits of western Kansas.
Throughout this region there are wide exposures of pure chalk, the
sediment of the old Cretaceous ocean, which at one time extended
from the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Ocean, and from central Kan-
sas on the east to far into Colorado on the west. Because of the pro-

VOL. LX. — 21.

322 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tected situation of this inland body of salt water, and its placid surface,
it was a favorite region for countless and divers animals of strange
aspect. The waters swarmed with swimming reptiles of unfamiliar
shapes and great size, while over its surface hovered and soared
innumerable pterodactyls searching for their prey in the waters be-
neath. The delicate bones of the pterodactyls, beneath the pressure
of the superincumbent rocks, have been, almost invariably, crushed
flat, requiring skill and care in their excavation. Sometimes, though
rarely, has a skeleton been found nearly complete; more frequently are
the scattered bones found here and there. Considering the great
buoyancy of their bodies floating upon the surface of the water, or sink-
ing slowly through the ocean's depths, swarming as it was with many
predaceous scavengers, one can only wonder that so many have been
preserved all these millions of years for the delight and amazement of
the modern student of geology.

THE JOURNEYINGS OF BIRDS. 323

THE JOUENEYINGS OF BIEDS.

By F. H. KNOWLTON, Ph.D.,
v. s. national museum.

THE sudden appearance of certain familiar birds in spring and
their disappearance at tiie close of summer has excited the atten-
tion and interest of all classes of observers from the earliest times.
"The stork in the heaven/' says the prophet Jeremiah, "knoweth her
appointed time; and the turtle and the crane, and the swallow observe
the time of their coming." Much curious speculation has been in-
dulged in to account for this periodic appearance and disappearance,
one ingenious writer of the early part of the eighteenth century arguing
that when the birds leave in the fall they retire to the moon. He
presumed that they required about two months in passing thither,
and that, after arriving above the lower regions of the air they will
have no occasion for food. Concerning the great distance, he adds,
'between the moon and the earth, if any shall still remain imsatisfied, I
leave only this to his consideration, whether there may not be some
concrete bodies at much less distance than the moon, which may be the
recesses of these creatures, and serve for little else but their entertain-
ment,' just as the rocky islands of the sea which he says are 'of no
other manifest use than for sea fowl to rest and breed upon !'

Hardly less absurd but wonderfully more persistent has been the
notion that birds hibernate during the winter in hollow trees, caves
and holes, and, at least in the case of swallows, in the mud at the
bottoms of lakes and ponds. Linnaeus and Cuvier, as well as a great
number of lesser lights, believed that swallows spent the winter in a
torpid state in mud, and even as late as 1878, a writer in a prominent
natural history journal in this country described the finding, in mid-
winter, of two swallows in the mud at the bottom of a spring in a
logging camp in Maine. When taken out they are said to have re-
vived and to have flown about in a warm room.

These absurd ideas have gradually given way to more rational views,
and at the present time the whereabouts of a great majority of our
birds is known accurately for the entire year. Their coming and
going on these long journeys has been under intelligent, though often
desultory, observation for more than a century and, although we have
learned much, it seems likely that we are hardly advanced beyond
the borderland of this intricate and fascinating subject. The object
of the present paper is to bring together some of the more important

324 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and striking of recent results for the purpose of showing that progress,
although slow, is actually being made, and also in the hope that it
may lead to further observation and record, for which there is un-
doubtedly abundant need.

In the first place, it may be well to define briefly certain phases of
bird movement that are often overlooked or confounded with the gen-
erally accepted understanding of what migration covers. In the popu-
lar mind, and, it may be added, this is the correct view, a migratory
species is one that regularly resorts to a given locality for the purpose
of rearing its young, after which both old and young retire to some
other, often widely different locality, where they pass the time before
the next breeding season. In all temperate countries the migratory
birds may be separated along these lines into two classes: first, those
which come in spring, spend the summer and retire towards autumn;
and second, those which pass through in spring to a breeding ground
nearer the pole, and in the fall while on their journey south. The
distinction between these two classes is obviously one of degree rather
than kind.

The birds that come to us only in winter, such as Juncos, snow-
flakes, redpolls and Lapland longspurs, are not usually thought of as
migrants, yet it requires but a moment's reflection to show that they
are strictly so, and this leads to the general proposition that most birds
throughout the world are constantly changing their location, but, as
the individual is merged in the species, it is often difficult to obtain
exact data on the subject. Because we see individuals of a certain
species constantly about us, we call that a resident species, but, as a
matter of fact, it is more than likely that not the same individuals are
continuously under observation.

There is also another class known as occasional visitors, as the
pine grosbeak and snowy owl, which may be absent for years, then of
a sudden appear in great numbers. Their coming is supposed to be
the result of a deficient food supply in their natural habitat far to
the north, but the evidence for this is theoretical rather than actual.
Hardly to be distinguished from these occasional visitants are the
sudden incursions of species in a locality in which they have never been
before known, as when a vast horde of nutcrackers spread over all
Europe in 1844, or the erratic sand grouse, a bird of Central Asia,
which has penetrated to England. But the climax of this restless and
roving tendency in birds is reached in the stragglers that now and
then are found hundreds, even thousands, of miles away from their
homes, as when the Old World skylark is found in Greenland and the
Bermudas, the American black-billed cuckoo in Italy, and our catbird
and brown thrasher in Europe. While it may not be quite logical to
class all these bird movements under the head of migration, as nar-

THE JOURNEYINGS OF BIRDS. 325

rowly defined, they are more or less clearly manifestations of the same
influences and go to make up the sum total of this wonderful ebb and
flow of bird life.

The origin, or perhaps better the origins, of this habit or instinct
of bird migration is exceedingly obscure. Many theories have been
advanced to account for it, but perhaps none has yet been offered that
explains satisfactorily all its multitudinous phases. For instance, it
has been suggested that migration is the result of the development
or acquirement of the power of flight. That flight has had much to do
in making long extended migrations easily possible no one can deny,
but that it has been the cause is not logically evident, for certain
mammals, as the bison and antelope, are to a limited extent migratory,
and certain flightless birds, as the penguins and the great auks, are
strictly so, or rather were in the case of the latter species which is
now extinct.

According to Mr. F. M. Chapman ('Bird Studies with a Camera,' p.
194) 'the desire for seclusion during the breeding season' is a 'good
and sufficient cause for the origin of bird migration.' He applies this
theory especially to birds nesting in colonies in secluded spots, as the
Ipswich sparrow which is known to nest only on Sable Island, off the
Nova Scotia coast, the gannets {Sula bassana), which nest in the
western hemisphere only on three islets in the Gulf of St. Lawrence,
terns on Muskeget and Penikese, and the brown pelicans of the Indian
River region of eastern Florida.

This theory may afford an explanation for the migrations of birds
that congregate in such colonies during the breeding season, but it
should not be overlooked that 'survival of the fittest' may have been an
equally important factor in weeding out those individuals of such
colonies that did not seek these secluded or isolated localities for breed-
ing sites. These birds may at first have nested in scattered situations
and have been driven by predatory animals or other causes to seek
inaccessible locations, and seclusion and isolation may thus have been
a resultant rather than a cause. It is also difficult to apply this theory
to land birds. Take, for example, the warblers of the genus Dendroica.
Some species barely reach the United States during the nesting sea-
son; a few stop in the southern tier of states; others only reach to
southern New England, while the bulk of the species press on from
northern New England to Hudson's Bay. If seclusion were the only
point aimed at, it would seem that the warblers which pass farthest
north to breed could have found it in the mountains of the southern
and middle states as some now do. Again, certain species, as the cliff
and bam swallows, phoebe and summer warbler, seek the vicinity of
human habitations during the nesting season, and, moreover, have
greatly increased in numbers since the country became thickly settled.

326 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The theory that is, perhaps, most naturally suggested, and the one
that finds widest acceptance as explaining the facts is that migration
began in a search for food. That is, the food supply becoming short in
the vicinity of the home (a bird's home is thus assumed to be the
place where it rears its young, and may therefore be quite different
from the locality where it spends the remainder of the time) they
wandered away in search of food, returning again and again to the
home vicinity. These journeys were extended farther and farther,
the birds returning each nesting season, undoubtedly oftener at first,
to or near the locality where they were born. This process went on
until their wandering became a fixed habit, and finally in the count-
less generations of birds that have come and gone, this habit has
been crystallized into what we now call, for want of a better term, the
instinct of migration.

This idea has been amplified and extended by Alfred Eussell
Wallace ('Nature,' X., p. 459) . He supposed that 'survival of the fittest'
has probably exerted a powerful influence in weeding out certain
individuals. He supposed further that breeding can only be safely
accomplished as a rule in a given area, and that during a greater part
of the rest of the year sufficient food cannot be obtained in that area.
"It will follow that those birds which do not leave the breeding area at
the proper season will suffer, and ultimately become extinct; which
will also be the fate of those which do not leave the feeding area at the
proper time." His further argument is ingenious, and, it must be
added, extremely plausible. He says: "Now, if we suppose that the
two areas were (for some remote ancestor of the existing species)
coincident, but by geological and climatic changes gradually diverted
from each other, we can easily understand how the habit of incipient
and partial migration at the proper seasons would at last become
hereditary, and so fixed as to be what we term an instinct."

It will probably be found, however, if anything like a satisfactory
explanation can be arrived at, that this habit or instinct has arisen in
more than one way, but we may appropriately turn from a consider-
ation of theories to a review of certain observed facts of migration.

It is now abundantly established that migration is mostly carried
on at night, and further mainly during clear nights. Only a com-
paratively few species, such as ducks, cranes, certain large hawks, swal-
lows, swifts, and nighthawks, migrate during the daytime, and these
it will be observed, are either rapacious birds or mainly those that
enjoy such power of rapid flight as to be relatively safe from capture.
All the vast horde of warblers, sparrows, finches, flycatchers, thrushes
and woodpeckers, as well as many waders and swimmers, migrate at
night. On clear, still nights during the migrations birds may often
be heard calling to each other high over head, and, as will be described

THE JOURNEYINGS OF BIRDS. 327

later, may be actually seen by powerful telescopes. Woods and hedge-
rows that were untenanted one day may become fairly alive with birds
at daylight the next morning, showing that they have arrived during
the night. They remain to feed and rest during the day, and, if the
weather be favorable, may practically all disappear the next night.
That they only venture on these journeys during clear nights is
shown by the fact that on such nights very few birds are killed by
lighthouses, monuments or other obstructions, whereas on cloudy or
rainy nights, especially such as opened clear and later become over-
cast, thousands of birds become confused and dash themselves against
these obstructions. Thus over 1,500 birds have been found dead at
the base of the Bartholdi statue in New York harbor in a single morn-
ing, and 230 birds of one species — black-poll warblers — were killed in
a single night (Sept. 30, 1883) by the Fire Island light. The Wash-
ington monument, although not illuminated at night, causes the death
of hundreds of birds annually.

The height above the earth at which migrating birds travel has
been made the subject of some interesting observations, the first of
which appear to have been by Mr. W. E. D. Scott, on the night of
October 19, 1880, at Princeton, New Jersey. In company with a num-
ber of visitors he was being shown through the astronomical observ-
atory at that place, and after looking at a number of objects through
the 91/^-inch equatorial, they were shown the moon, then a few days
past its full phase. His attention was at once arrested by numbers of -
small birds that could be more or less plainly seen passing across the
field of observation. Most of the kinds seen were the smaller land
birds, among which were plainly recognized warblers, finches, wood-
peckers and black-birds. He was able to identify with much certainty
the characteristic undulating fiight of the goldfinch, and the broad
boat-shaped tail of the purple grackle. The flight of the birds noted
was apparently nearly at right angles to the field of observation, and
they were passing at the rate of 4% per minute. As nearly as could
be estimated their height above the earth was between one and two
miles.

In the following year similar observations were made by Scott
and Dr. J. A. Allen, but the results were not as striking, only 13
birds passing in any quarter of an hour. They were also apparently
flying lower than on the first occasion.

Some years later observations on nocturnal flight were taken up
by Mr. Chapman, who spent three hours on the night of September 3,
1887, at Tenafly, New Jersey. During this time 362 birds passed
across the moon's face. Of these 233 were computed to be at a height
of from 1,500 to 15,100 feet, and curiously the lowest birds seemed
to be flying upward, as though they 'had arisen in the immediate

328 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

neighborhood and were seeking the proper elevation at which to con
tinue their flight, but after that time the line of flight was parallel to
the earth's surface.' He was able to identify positively only com-
paratively few species, such as the Carolina rail, grackle and a large
snipe.

But perhaps the most satisfactory observations of all were those
made also by Chapman, who, in company with a number of ornithol-
ogists, spent the night of September 26, 1891, at the Bartholdi Statue,
New York. The weather proved to be exceptionably favorable, being
clear during the early and later portions of the night, with an inter-
mittent rain storm lasting for three hours between. As early as eight
o'clock the birds began to be seen and heard, but almost simultaneously
with the beginning of the rain there occurred a very marked increase
in the number of birds seen about the light. They came singly, in
troops, and in thousands, were visible for a moment and passed on into
the darkness beyond. "The birds chirped and called incessantly. Fre-
quently, when few could be seen, hundreds were heard passing in the
darkness; the air was fllled with the lisping notes of warblers, and
the mellow whistle of tlirushes and at no time during the night was
there perfect silence."

The latest recorded observations were made by Mr. 0. G. Libby
('Auk,' XVI., 140), who studied the nocturnal migrations at Madison,
Wisconsin, in September, 1897. His first place of observation was a
small elevation in the vicinity of three small lakes, where he undertook
to make a record of the number of bird calls heard. During the night
a total of 3,800 calls were recorded. The number of calls varied
greatly, sometimes running as high as two or three per second and
again falling to that number per minute. The largest number counted
was 936.

From the nature of the data it was manifestly impossible to esti-
mate the number of birds represented by these calls, but the effect was
impressive in the extreme. He says: "ISTothing but an actual experi-
ence of a similar nature can adequately convey the impression pro-
duced by such observations. The air seemed at times fairly alive with
invisible birds as the calls rang out now faintly and far away, now
sharply and near at hand. All varieties of bird calls came sounding
out of the darkness that evening. The harsh squawk of a water bird
would be followed by the musical cliinh of the bobolink. The fine,
shrill notes of the smaller sparrows and warblers were heard only close
at hand, but the louder ones came from all along the line, east and
west. More than once an entire flock, distinct by the variety of their
calls, came into range and passed out of hearing, keeping up their
regular formation with the precision of a rapidly moving, but orderly
body of horsemen. The great space of air above swarmed with life.

THE JOURNEYINGS OF BIRDS. 329

Singly or in groups, large and small, or more seldom in a great throng,
the hurrying myriads pressed southward."

The second station chosen by Mr. Libby was the Washburn Observ-
atory, where for three nights he watched the birds passing across the
face of the moon. During the three nights a total of 583 birds were
counted, the largest number in any fifteen-minute period being 45.
Considerable diversity in the direction of flight was noted. Thus up to
ten o'clock the prevailing direction was south, but after this time the
diversity increased, until it reached its maximum between tw'elve
and two o'clock, when eight principal points of the compass were rep-
resented by numbers varying from 3 to 28. However, two-thirds of
the number were still maintaining a southerly direction.

Libby attempted to estimate roughly the total number of birds
that passed his point of observation during the three nights, but as he
well says, 'when one recalls the relatively small size of the moon's sur-
face as compared to its path from east to west, within the range of
vision,' the difficulty becomes evident. As nearly as could be made out
about 9,000 birds were passing per hour or a grand total of 168,000.

The rate of speed at which birds travel during the migrations, and
also at other times, has been made the subject of observation, although
the results, as might be expected from the confusing elements which
must enter into such an inquiry, are far from complete or satisfactory.
If the speed often attained by powerful and swift-flying species, such
as ducks, geese, swallows, etc., could be maintained, it is obvious that
the time occupied in migrations woiild be inconsiderable. But, as
will be shown later, the maximum speed appears to be rarely or
never realized at this time.

Frank Forrester records 90 miles an hour for ducks, as noted by
telegraph from point to point, and an albatross has been known to
cover 3,150 miles in 12 days. The actual distance flown by the latter
bird was probably at least twice as great, for they rarely fly far in a
straight line.

Some years ago Griffitt made some observations (recorded in 'The
Field,' Feb. 19, 1887) in a closed gallery on the speed attained by
'blue-rock' pigeons and English pheasants and partridges. The two
first mentioned flew at the rate of only 32.8 miles per hour, while the
partridge made but 28.4 miles, and these rates were all considerably
in excess of what they made in the open. The carrier pigeon is a rather
fast flying bird, yet the average speed is not very great. Thus the
average made in 18 matches ('The Field,' Jan. 22, 1887) was only 36
English miles an hour, although in two of these trials a speed of about
55 miles was maintained for 4 successive hours. In this country the
average racing speed is apparently about 35 miles an hour, although a
few exceptionally rapid birds have made short distance flight at the

330 POPULAE SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rate of from 45 to 52 miles an hour. The longest recorded flight of a
carrier pigeon was from Pensacola, Florida, to Fall Eiver, Mass., an
air-line distance of 1,183 miles, made in I5I/2 days or only about 76
miles a day.

Herr Gatke, whose observations on Heligoland, a small island in
the North Sea, extended over a period of fifty years, would give to
birds a speed that is incredible. For example, the gray crows were
believed by him to pass over the 360 miles between Heligoland and
Lincolnshire at a rate of 120 miles an hour, and curlews, godwits and
plovers are said by him to cross from Heligoland to the oyster beds
lying to the eastward, a distance of a little more than 4 miles, in one
minute, or at the astonishing rate of 240 miles an hour. The error
in these observations, as suggested by Newton ('Dictionary of Birds,' p.
566), probably lies in the impossibility of identifying the individuals
that leave one of the given points with those first arriving at the other
end of the line. Professor Newton also calls attention to the fact
that few birds, even swallows and quail, fly as fast as an express train
from whose windows they may be observed. It is a common experience,
when a train is passing along at no great speed, for various birds to
be flushed by it, but after flying vigorously for a few hundred yards
they quickly drop behind.

But granting that the occasional speed is very considerable, the
actual speed of most migrating birds appears to be surprisingly low.
Observations tending to prove this were made some years ago under
the direction of Prof. W. W. Cook, in the Mississippi Valley. The
services of over one hundred observers were enlisted, at stations ranging
from the Gulf to Manitoba. The date at which a certain species was
first noted at the most southern point was compared with the first
appearance of that species at the most northern point; the distance in
miles between these two stations is then divided by the number of days
between the observations. Thus the Baltimore oriole was first seen at
Rodney, Mississippi, April 7, and was not observed at Oak Point,
Manitoba, until May 25. The distance in a straight line between
these two places is 1,298 miles and as it took 48 days the average speed
was 27 miles a day. The records of fifty-eight species for the spring
of 1883 gave an average speed of 23 miles a day for an average dis-
tance of 420 miles, while in the following year a slightly smaller num-
ber of species gave exactly the same average speed over an average dis-
tance of 861 miles. In the case of individual species the results were
of much interest. Thus the robin, cowbird and yellowhammer traveled
at an average speed of about 12 miles a day, while the average for the
summer redbird, ruby-throated humming bird and night hawk was 28
miles a day. It is, however, necessary to take so many things into
account in arriving at these conclusions that it is easy to see the possi-

THE JOURNEYINGS OF BIRDS. 33 ^

bilities of error. For example, meteorological conditions play an im-
portant part during migrations, a rain storm or an unusually cold spell
may retard progress for days. Even if the conditions are favorable,
it is hardly probable that the same individuals migrate for more than
a night or two without intermission, so that while the species may be
making progress the individuals are alternating a night or two of
travel with often several days of rest and recuperation. Again, it was
found that most species traveled considerably faster during the latter
part of the journey than during the first part. Thus six species
showed an increase of 77 per cent, in speed for the northern half of
their journey, and the same general result was obtained by calculating
the average speed of twenty-five species separately for each of the
different months in which migration is performed; the average for
March being 19 miles, for April 23 miles and for May 26 miles a day.
The species which are late migrants also move faster than those which
start earlier and take more time about it.

The persistence with which birds cling to established lines of
travel during the migrations is one of the most remarkable facts within
the range of bird life, and this in not a few cases can only be inter-
preted in the light of past geological conditions. Thus certain species
which breed in Europe and spend the winter in Africa now cross the
Mediterranean at one of the widest points, a seemingly needless waste
of energy. But soundings between these points have shown that the
sea for much of the distance is relatively shallow, and that a moderate
subsidence has changed what may have been narrowest to what is now
one of the broadest points. This subsidence was undoubtedly slow and
first resulted in the formation of a series of islands and lagoons, and
the birds easily passed from one island to another, and even after the
last bit of land had disappeared they still followed the old route estab-
lished by their remote ancestors.

Many shore and water birds that spend the breeding season in and
about the arctic circle to the north of Europe and Asia, follow lines of
travel during their migrations that were undoubtedly established under
past continental or oceanic conditions. Thus certain species take a
circuitous route over what is now a wide expanse of open ocean, while
others pass far inland through the Russian and Central European
lowlands- Those of the first class are simply still following an ancient
shoreline, and those of the second class the location of an inland shallow
sea.

The Old World migratory quail (Coturnix coturnix) is one of the
comparatively few migrants among the so-called game birds. During
the migrations they wander far from places of their birth, reaching
South Africa, Persia and India. The individuals inhabiting Great
Britain, or at least a part of them, long ago established a migration

332 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

route in a southeasterly direction. When examples from Great
Britain were introduced into New England, they adapted themselves
readily to their new surroundings and reared young, but when the
season for migration arrived the inherited tendency to go in a south-
easterly direction asserted itself, and, according to Mr. Wm. Palmer,
of the U. S. National Museum, they all passed out into the broad
expanse of the Atlantic and were lost.

For several decades it has been noted that a few species of birds
from Western Asia have been gradually extending their summer range
into northern Scandinavia. When these species migrate, instead of
going south through central Scandinavia or southwest along the coast
line, as do the original Scandinavian residents, they turn back east to
the point in Siberia whence they came, before turning southward to
spend the winter on the borders of India.

Forty or more species of migratory birds occur as summer resi-
dents in the Yukon Basin, Alaska. Of these some fourteen species are
Pacific coast birds. With a single exception they are all thought to
reach the upper Yukon by crossing the Alaskan coast range of moun-
tains. This exception, according to Mr. W. H. Osgood, of the U. S.
Department of Agriculture, is the varied thrush (Hesperocichla
ncBvia), which apparently reaches its summer home by going up the
coast to the mouth of the Yukon, and thence following this river for
almost 2,000 miles. Equally abundant with it in this summer home is
the common snowbird (Junco hyemalis) of the eastern United States,
which reaches the Yukon Basin by way of the Mississippi Valley.

Perhaps the longest straight-away flight made during the migra-
tions is accomplished by certain shore and water birds, as the tattler
[Heteractitis incanus), sanderling (Calidris arenaria), turnstone
{Arenaria interpres), and the pintail and shoveler ducks, which nest
in islands in the Bering Sea and spend the winter in the Fanning
and Hawaiian groups, a distance of some 2,200 miles. As the shore
birds above enumerated are probably unable to rest on the surface of
the water, the entire distance must be accomplished in a single flight.
It is difficult indeed to see how this line of migration could have been
established. Following the analogy of the Old World species before
mentioned whose path marks an ancient shore-line, we might presume
that there was at one time a land connection, or at least a chain of
islands between the Aleutian and Hawaiian groups, but on the contrary
the depths of the Pacific are profound between these points, and
there is not the slightest geological evidence on which to base a former
land connection. When it is recalled how slight a deviation at the
point of departure would suffice to throw them to the one side or the
other of the Hawaiian islands the accomplishment is truly marvelous.
In the absence of familiar landmarks and surrounded by a waste of

THE JOUENEYINGS OF BIRDS. 333

sky and water, they make their way with the precision of a rifle bullet,
and it would seem at hardly less speed.

The plovers, sandpipers and kindred species take migratory journeys
often of extraordinary length. Thus the American golden plover
{Charadrius dominicus) breeds in Arctic America and migrates
through the entire length of North and South America to its winter
home in Patagonia. The little sanderling just mentioned is almost
cosmopolitan in distribution, breeding in Arctic and sub-Arctic regions
and migrating in the New World to Chile and Patagonia, a distance
of eight thousand miles, and in the Old World along all the shores of
Europe, Asia and Africa. The Bartramian sandpiper {Bartramia
longicauda) nests from eastern North America to Nova Scotia and
Alaska, and goes south in winter to southern South America. The
solitary sandpiper {Totanus solitarius) breeds mainly to the north of
the United States and winters as far south as Brazil and Peru. The
buff-breasted sandpiper (Tryngites suhruficollis) rears its young in the
Yukon district of Alaska and from the interior of British Columbia to
the Arctic coast, and journeys in winter well into South America. The
turnstone {Arenaria interpres) , a little shore bird about the size of the
song thrush of Europe, is also cosmopolitan, breeding in high northern
latitudes and at other times of the year being found along the coast of
Europe, Asia, Africa, North America, South America to the Straits of
Magellan, Australia and the Atlantic and Pacific islands. It is one of
the species mentioned as making the wonderful flight from islands in
the Bering Sea to the Hawaiian Islands.

The ducks form another interesting group, although their journeys
during the migrations are not nearly as extended as the birds just
mentioned. The larger number breed mainly to the north of the
United States and many within the Arctic Circle. Certain species, as
the eider duck, only come south in winter to the coast of northern
Maine, others, as the old squaw, may reach the Potomac and the Ohio,
while most of them, as the bald-pate, blue-winged teal, pin-tail, golden-
eye, bufflehead, etc., visit Mexico, Guatemala, northern South America
or the West Indies.

Certain of the familiar birds of lawn, hedgerow and fleld, for whose
coming we watch so anxiously, may claim a moment's attention. The
bobolink, so dear to the hearts of the residents of New England, makes
his appearance in his summer home in May. By the last of July or
the first part of x^ugiist the young are reared, the old males have lost
their bright dress, and with a musical cMnTc as their only note, they
start southward. In the region of the Chesapeake they begin to con-
gregate in vast flocks, where they are known as reed-birds, but in a
few weeks they pass on to the rice fields of the South to become the
dreaded rice-bird. But by October the last one has disappeared, and

334 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

some by way of Cuba, others by way of Central America, where a few
may linger, the main body presses onward beyond the Amazon into
central and southeastern Brazil. On the return journey they reach
the southern border of the United States in March and April.

The catbird is found in summer throughout the eastern United
States and British Provinces, and in winter in the southern States,
Cuba and Middle America to Panama. Our common robin is very
erratic in habits of migration. Occasionally a few may winter in
dense swamps as far north as southern Canada and Maine, but the
majority spend the winter in the Southern States. The chimney
swift is found in summer in eastern North America and
thence north to Labrador and the fur countries. The winter is spent
to the south of the United States. Cliff and barn swallows, which are
found over nearly all North America in summer, may penetrate to
Brazil, Paraguay and the West Indies in winter. The scarlet tanager
passes the winter in the West Indies, Central America and northern
South America, and the familiar indigo bird may go as far as Veragua.

The great group of warblers, of which some 70 species are found
in the United States, has been mentioned before. They are all strongly
migratory and mainly pass beyond our southern borders in winter,
although a few individuals of a single species — the yellow-rumped
warbler — have been known to winter on Cape Cod. Some of them
visit the West Indies but the larger number, after rearing their young
in the dense coniferous forests of the Hudson's Bay region or even in
Alaska, spend the winter in Mexico, Central America or northern
South America.

The sparrows as a group are also strictly migratory. Quite a num-
ber, such as the tree sparrow {SpizelUa monticola), snowflake (Plec-
trophenax hyperhoreus) and longer spur (Calcarius lapponicus) breed
far to the north of the United States in Arctic districts, and come
dovm in winter into the northern states or irregularly farther south.
Many species which breed mainly north of the United States only go
into the middle and southern states during the winter, while a few
may reach the West Indies, Mexico, Central America or northern
South America.

But after having described these migration routes and the wonder-
ful journeys over continents and vast oceans, the mystery of mysteries
— How is it possible for the birds to find their way so unerringly? —
still remains without a wholly satisfactory answer. As in the case
of theories propounded to account for the origin of migration, so
numerous suggestions have been made to explain this wonderful
faculty. Thus Dr. Von Middendorff, a distinguished naturalist who
studied exhaustively the migrations in the Russian Empire, suggests
that because all the spring movements in that country are toward the

THE JOURNEYINGS OF BIRDS. 335

magnetic pole, the migrating bird knows tlie location of this point and
is enabled to direct its course accordingly. It is perhaps needless to
say that this theory is not only unsupported by any serious facts but,
as has been shown by Baird, is opposed to the facts of migration in
North America.

If during the migrations the older and stronger birds always led
the way, it might be said with plausibility that this faculty is due in
large measure to experience, but here again the facts are either con-
flicting or directly opposed to such a view, for it seems to have been
demonstrated with reasonable certainty that in Europe the young birds
not only precede the old, during the fall movement, but often travel
by a wholly different route. In this country, however, observations on
this point are limited and authorities differ, but the tendency is to be-
lieve that the old birds do actually lead. Observation is much needed
to settle this question.

In the case of birds migrating over land areas, sight is supposed by
some to have an all-important function, especially when it is recalled
that a bird two miles above the earth is surrounded by a horizon line of
90 miles on either side. As already shown, they have been observed
at a height of three miles, which would easily keep them within sight
of prominent landmarks, and would even permit them to cross con-
siderable bodies of water without entirely losing themselves. That
they depend to some extent on such landmarks to guide them on their
course seems to be shown by the fact that they migrate mainly on
clear nights and are obliged to seek the earth on the approach of
cloudiness and storms. But in the case of birds migrating over hun-
dreds or even thousands of miles of open water, vision must play an
unimportant part. Mobius ('Das Ausland,' Aug., 1882) suggests that
in such cases they may be guided by observing the roll of the waves, but
while this may be true in a few instances, it cannot possibly be so in
the majority of cases. We, therefore, seem inevitably led to the con-
clusion that birds are possessed of a 'sense of direction.' This ^homing'
faculty or power of orientation which is, for example, so strongly
developed in the carrier pigeon, is by no means unique among birds.
It is possessed in a greater or less degree by many animals, by most
savage races of men and, not infrequently by individuals among civil-
ized races, more especially those accustomed to life away from centers
of civilization, in forest and on plain — just how it is to be explained is
difficult to say. Some would give it the dignity of a sixth sense and
would fix its seat in the semi-circular canals of the ear.

336 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ENVIRONMENT IN RELATION TO SEX IN
HUMAN CULTURE.

By OTIS T. MASON,

U. S. NATIONAL MUSEUM.

rr^HERE is a sense in which human environments may be viewed in
-'- their relation to sex.

The greater part of the earth's surface was sterile to all primitive
peoples, anterior to the times when the harnessing of physical forces,
little by little, brought all lands and all waters under human dominion.
The seas, the mountains, the frozen regions and the deserts were never
traversed by savage man. In other areas the soil was so rich that dense
forests and impenetrable pampas, with their dreadful solitudes and
venomous animals and plants, served as a prohibitory wall against
human occupation until the good offices of fire subdued them.

The remaining areas, of which we are now speaking, may be divided
into the bisexual, the feminal and the virile. These natural homes of
humanity have been characterized as culture areas, areas of character-
ization, ethnic provinces, oikoumenoi, and so on, either by reason of
their having produced marked varieties of the genus homo, or because
special forms of activities have been demanded and fostered in them.
Each of them has been studied respecting its salubrity, its food supply,
its materials for elevating industries, its distance from the highways
of progress, its scenery and resources of every kind affecting the welfare
of our species; but here it is designed to interrogate them regarding
their treatment of men and women.

The term 'progress' means the perfecting of mental attributes and
bodily skill of the individual and enlarging the number of persons
cooperating in the same activity over longer time and greater space
simultaneously.

The exigencies of maternity always differentiated the activities, the
artistic creations, the language, the social life, the knowledge and the re-
ligious conceptions of women. Over and above all actions in common
with men, they were spinners, dyers, weavers, nest-builders and purvey-
ors. For them the fireside was literally the focus of innumerable cares.

In any mode of primitive life, on the other hand, men went to war
with the elements and with things. In their hands was the apparatus
of capture, of incarceration, of slaughter. They exploited the bound-
aries of the unknown in every direction.

HUMAN CULTURE. 337

The three kingdoms of nature — animal, vegetal and mineral — were
the arena upon which men and women acted the drama of progress.

The animal kingdom.

The animal kingdom was, on the whole, in relation to human prog-
ress, the lowest of the three, inasmuch as less exalting artificiality has
grown out of it for women as well as men, but more exalting for men
than for women. The ever-increasing wariness and remoteness of the
animal called for increase of cunning, skill and united effort in man.
The apparatus had to be more ingenious and effective, the individual
hunter more resourceful, and men had to be mobilized in larger num-
bers, for longer times and for greater distances.

When the hunter state gradually passed into the pastoral state, the
same pedagogy went on, for the hunter now came to be the aggressor
and defender in the care of his flocks, killing rapacious beasts and men ;
and the annual hunt, a marvel of temporary concerted action and in-
telligence, coming to be the permanent military organization.

Face to face with the animal kingdom, the zootechnic activities of
women were of quite another sort. It was they who skinned and packed
the game, cured the fish and converted the soft parts of animals into
products for human comfort. In the slow processes by which the feral
states of animals became domestication, women collected the young,
often nursed them, attracted the adult. In those areas where she could
best do this was her vantage ground.

In the pastoral state the muscular energies of beasts became the
servants of men, lifting many burdens also from the backs of women.
Herein came the saddle beast, the pack beast, the traction beast, the
permanent supply for art and for sacrifice. As to woman, it brought
to her door milk, flesh and wool.

The vegetal kingdom.

In contact with the vegetal kingdom men were the inventors of wood-
craft and bark-craft. Women were primitive gardeners, gleaners,
basket- and mat-makers, and spinners. Edge tools, therefore, were
man's — ax, adz, chisel, whittling knife, all for wood- working ; but
carrying-baskets and spindles were women's. Sedentary village life is
the product of the vegetal kingdom. In its earliest form it is woman^s
sphere. To plant the seed, to till the ground and to gather the crop
were hers. What men did all this time was to guard the women and
the crops and to develop a military, regulative government. The mound
region of the Mississippi Valley is an eminent example of this, where
the remains of ancient corn rows survive in the midst of forts and cere-
monial earthworks.

VOL. LX. — 22.

338 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The mineral Tcingdom.

The mineral kingdom did most to emancipate the fancy and develop
the genius and strength of men through stone and metal; for women,
its pedagogic efforts were through the pliant and versatile clay and the
water springs. Find a region south of the line of severe cold where
clay abounds, coupled with demand for sedentary life, there the ceramic
art in primitive times was efiiorescent. The clay and the woman gradu-
ally become refined and exalted. The qualities of the material were
discovered and developed, the great possibilities of manual refinement
and dexterity found a worthy arena. In later times Keramos came to
be a man, because machinery supplanted the hand; but at first potters
were women.

On the other hand, if you except the scraper and the household
knife, in flakable, siliceous stone, the worker in stone was always a
man. Piercing and slashing weapons had their points and edges worked
by men. It is with admiration that we now look upon the products
of knack and patience kept in museums as precious relics of the men
of old. Wherever the best flint was known there the men were quite
equal to play upon the material and to be played upon by it, the flint and
the artist being mutually perfected.

But friable stone had in it even more for man than flint. The gem
cutter, the sculptor, and the architect went to school to crystals, to
calcareous and volcanic stone. The flaker was invented for flint, but
the hammer, the bushing tool, the chisel, the rasp, the diamond drill,
the saw, the emery wheel and engineering appliances were all devised by
men at the invitation of art and architectural stones. In those areas
M^here these last abound men were regenerated. A casual glance at the
map of the Western Hemisphere shows that only where the engineer
and the architect were called for was there aboriginally any approach

to civilization.

The forces of nature.

Professor Eouleau, of Berlin, divides culture into phases which he
calls ' manganic ' and ' naturistic ' ; the former term applies to the use
of macliinery and the domestication of nature's forces, the latter to
that condition of culture in which the hand was aided by the simplest
appliances. On every grade of culture women were more naturistic
than men. Any culture area, therefore, which afforded occasion and
stimulus for the employment of mechanical powers, the forces of nature,
and continuous organized effort of mind and muscle was virile and most
propitious for men.

Nor are conditions of climate and daylight to be neglected in this
connection. For men, progress was more difficult in uncongenial climes.
Women had sheltered, indoor temperature artificialized in the frozen
zone with the help of the lamp-stove. Hence all the enduring menu-

HUMAN CULTURE. 339

ments of early man's advancement are only within those temperate
areas or elevations where neither heat nor cold was excessive, and where
the food-quest was not exhausting.

Interesting here also is it to note the length of day in culture areas,
especially for out-of-door men. The following table gives nearly enough
the duration of the longest and of the shortest day for the different
latitudes :

70° the sun is visible from May 16 to July 27.

60° longest sunlight, 18h. 53', shortest sunlight, 5h. 52'

50°

16h. 23',

8h. 4'

40°

15h. 1',

9h. 20'

30°

14h. 5',

lOh. 13'

20°

13h. 20',

lOh. 55'

10°

12h. 43',

llh. 32'

Culture areas of the New World.

The Western Hemisphere offers the best field for studying culture
areas and primitive life in relation to sex. The two extremities furnish
a striking contrast between a sterile and a bi-sexual area. In Fuegia,
with climate like that of Labrador, the conditions of living are such
that beyond merely holding their own there is little to upUft either men
or women.

On the contrary, along the arctic border are the cunning Eskimo,
living in an environment that is both virile and f eminal ; but it is solely
zootechnic. There the women are housekeepers, tanners, clothiers and
embroiderers.

The men have the sinew-backed bow, the retrieving harpoon, and
the skin kaiak, in each of which you see the maximum result of skill
with the minimum of material. During the long winter the aesthetic
faculty was exercised in carving and etching upon hard animal tissues.
The underground ceremonial house and the snow dome are models of
construction. Dogs were traction beasts, rapid transit over snow and
ice was installed; harness, sleds of uniform width, economic food and
packing sharpened the wits. The boundaries of the environment rich
in animal life seemed unlimited, so that many hundreds of miles of
shore country were exploited by a people speaking the same language.
Inland, about the Yukon drainage, women were among the most for-
lorn pack beasts and slaves on earth.

The hirch-barJc area.

Eastward from the Eockies and throughout Alaska is the birch-tree
country, quite poorly furnished for men, far better for men than women.
The snow-shoe is at home here, and also the birch-bark canoe. Here

34° POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

throve fur-bearing creatures in great variety, coveted by the titled and
fashionable in the Eastern Hemisphere. The trader brought along
with him the gun and the curved knife, with which men built better
canoes and women cut the finest leather, called babiche. Eesult : better
boats for water travel, better snow-shoes for snow travel and also better
men and women. But primarily, after all, conditions were hard and
starvation was not unknown.

The sleds of the birch-canoe region have no runners; they are boats
to move on the snow. In the fur trade the dog became exalted through
external stimulus, and the voyageurs were known as the hardiest of
men.

In the realm of the aesthetic, however, through all the birch bark
area men knocked at the door of Nature in vain. The fine art of both
sexes was in ephemeral costume decorated with porcupine quills. No
pottery, basketry, woodwork, stonework, earthwork or fine carving
of any kind existed. Since the art faculty and the materials are always
exalted mutually, it is in vain to enquire whether the one or the
other was lacking.

The north Atlantic area.

The drainage of the St. Lawrence, the Appalachian mountains, and
the Atlantic slope together formed the culture area for two powerful
Indian families, the Iroquoian and the Algonquian. The annual round
of varied employments, in peace and in war, developed a fine breed
of men. Cultivation of maize by the women, added to their zootechnic
activities, trained their wits in economy and cooperation. They were
not excellent potters or weavers, however, and their advancement was
far behind that of the men. Matriarchy was breaking down at the
period of the Discovery. The early records of these two families
abound in accounts of long journeys, of masterful enterprises, of con-
certed activities, of imposing councils, of treaties and alliances,
which go to show that the Atlantic slope long ago could produce noble
men.

The Mississippi valley area.

Between the Blue Eidge mountains and the Rockies, when the his-
torian arrived, two contending cultures had been at work, evoked by
the kingdoms of nature — that of the buffalo and that of the prairie. As
the land of Egypt is the residuum of a continuous warfare between the
desert dust and the Nile fioods, so the phenomenon of roving tribes liv-
ing on the sites of mounds and earthworks, of which they had neither
knowledge nor tradition, was the outcome of the confiict between the
hunting Dakotans and their congeners on the one side and the agricul-
tural builders of mounds from the south.

HUMAN CULTURE. 34i

The Muskliogean area.

If the reader will examine Merriam's temperature charts in relation
to zoological distribution, he will note that the color symbol of the
southern states of the Union extends far to the westward. He will not
be surprised to find that the Kocky mountains lowered their drawbridges
in times past for the migration of ideas. The Muskhogean tribes built
pyramidal mounds. They were sedentary. The men were tall and
mentally vigorous. Their descendants, now in the Indian Territory,
were capable of great enterprises. The women were skilful farmers,
weavers and potters. The gulf province was bi-sexual.

The south Atlantic area.

Southeastward from the Muskhogean area lie the Antilles, the
Orinoco basin, the Amazon basin, the Mato Grosso and the Pampas.
In them men had little to do save to hunt and fish, to fight and to
sleep in their hammocks. They were zootechnic, passing into phy-
totechnic. No great man was ever bred in such a school. The women
were farmers, potters, tapa-makers, spinners and hammock-knitters,
and there is ground for believing that in several portions of the area
there were settlements made up wholly of women, or Amazons (Payne,
Hist, of Amer., II, p. 11).

The men in the northern portion were also water craftsmen, and
that evoked and trained their hand, their skill and their wits. The
Caribs are said to have been the only American people who colonized
by sea voyages. In art, men were carvers in wood and stone, attaining
creditable skill in Puerto Pico and Guadeloupe. However, as in other
areas, there was absence of solidarity. The women on the Orinoco, the
Amazon and the Xingu made exquisite basketry and featherwork, and
jewelry of teeth and seeds. They cultivated cassava and other plants,
and their cabins were thronged with birds of gay plumage. So lacking
was industrial stone in all this lowland that shell and teeth were the
only materials, on which account Von den Steinen humorously proposes
to speak of a bone and shell age of man.

The tribes of the pampas, before the coming of the horse, had a
meager life. It is true that the guanaco and the rhea were at hand
plentifully. But the men in association with such environment were
not much more than clever panthers with long and sharp teeth called
arrows and spears.

The women were much more cultivated, being excellent tanners and
making rude pottery. Their houses were only shelters of skin and
their art was limited to painting geometric patterns on robes. The two
sexes were equally non-progressive, but being amply fed they grew in
stature and were among the tallest Americans.

342 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The north Pacific area.

On the Pacific slope of America, between 45° and 60° north, lies
a well-marked culture area. The mountains near by and the ocean
have between them innumerable islands, great and small. Passing
among these was easy; the climate, by reason of warm currents in the
sea, mild ; animal and vegetable life useful to human existence, copious.
There is no flint, but slate, nephrite and volcanic rocks of good quality.
On this domain men traversed long distances in dugout canoes holding
fifty persons, and artists expressed their mythic fancies through the
obliging cedar wood. Had they lived thirty degrees farther south,
these men would have been able to rival the builders of Nahuan and
Mayan stone temples. For women, pliant roots and tough grasses
fascinated their artistic spirits, resulting in exquisite twined basketry.
As in all other island areas, however, the tendencies are centrifugal.
The linguistic families were separated into innumerable kwans, or
clans, without national solidarity. The southern boundary of this
canoe culture province is the Columbia river, highway of tribes and
patron of men. On this coast were matured commerce, slavery, a diver-
sity of industries and a varied annual round. Material was afforded
and leisure also for the unfolding of a complicated mythology and its
embodiment in wood, stone and hard animal substances.

The Oregon-California area.

The next unique area lies on the Pacific slope, between 35° and 48°
north, chiefly in Oregon and California. Upon this long strip facing
the sunset was woman's paradise ; it was at the same time ' No man's
land.' The men there are among the shortest, and the height of the
women is 94 per cent, of the men's. Twenty-four different stock-lan-
guages are spoken. It is not so much a single culture area as a series
of cul-de-sacs, a cloaca- gentium, coves in the mountains opening out on
the islandless, harborless, fathomless ocean. It is the Caucasus of the
Western Hemisphere. You see there no huge canoes, no carvings in
any material, no partnerships or great enterprises. The only redeem-
ing virile feature is the yew bow with sinew back and the most delicate
arrows on the continent.

But what a heritage in textile materials! Nowhere else on the
globe was there such a variety of stitches in basketry and nowhere else
were women's fingers so nimble in basket-making. There was no
spindle, no loom, no pottery, but the basket served all purposes for the
gleaner, the miller, the cook and the purveyor. The art sense, almost
extinguished in the men, barring a little skill in shell and feathers,
effloresced in woman's work, to the astonishment of the ethnologist.

HUMAN CULTURE. 343

The Pueblo area.

The plateau bounded by the Colorado and the Eio Grande was
long the home of the clay and adobe worker. The men were short,
and the height of the women in the pueblos was 93 per cent, of that of
the men. Eabbits, mountain sheep, antelopes, coyotes, mountain lions,
hawks and rattlesnakes were the useful and mythical animals. The
vegetal kingdom furnished poor timber, but good textile fibers and a
varied diet of corn, melons and beans. As in the Ohio valley, though
in different materials, artificial food production was associated with
defense. The cliff home and the pueblo solved the problem of architec-
ture and fortifications in the best possible situations and materials.

The artificializing of this pueblo life can not be divorced from water
culture and cult, woman's prerogative. In a region whose life is a per-
petual sigh for water, the nymph and the potter are one. Women are
pack beasts for clay; modelers, decorators, burners of pottery. The
water seeker, carrier, storer, user, server, is the potter. The tempting
foods set before the gods of the elements were served in baskets and
vessels of clay. The feminal life of the pueblos, therefore, was higher
than the virile, and it is so to-day. Gushing says that the men's efforts
were concentrated on activities connected with maintenance and the
worship going therewith. Most of the fine art, however, excepting the
little painted dolls, in the service of religion, is feminal ; it is on pottery
and basketry, not on shields and manly costume.

The Mexican area.

At the genial southern extremity of the same plateau, reaching from
Quimbawa, in Zacatecas, to Nicaragua, lie the Mexican uplands, man's
best friend in all aboriginal North America, as the region about Quito
was in South America — a climate whose daylight varied little through-
out the year, whose temperature was so equable that food plants, like
the trees of the Apocalypse, bore their fruit every month, a region whose
elevation and proximity to the gulf and the ocean gave the largest
yield of land and sea food for the smallest effort, especially, however, a
region abounding in architectural stone in which men might fix their
epics and their dreams, and in hard rock for stone cutters' tools.

Mean temperature of the City of Mexico.

Jan. Feb. Mar. Apr. May June July Aug. Sept. Oct. Nov. Dec.
75 80 80 79 75 69 69 66 63 66 70 73

Such a land was favorably situated for leisure, for organization,
for unbroken cooperation in economic social and religious activities on
a large scale and, proportionally, to develop the manliness of men. One

344 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is not surprised, therefore, to find here in great profusion a summing
up in stone, both in sculpture and architecture, of all the motives scat-
tered in clay, wood, textile and feather-work over the northern con-
tinent. Here also are seen fully developed those virile art forms and
decorations of which Gushing finds among the pueblos only vestiges on
pottery and basketry. The high culture of the Mexican and the Mayan
broke down in Honduras, Salvador and Nicaragua, where are even
now found any number of unclassed, insignificant tribes.

The Colombian area.

The extension of the Cordilleras southward need not detain the
reader. Stretching from Nicaragua to the southern limits of Colombia
were the Muyscas or Chibchas, metallurgists and jewelers par excellence.
It was in their country that Balboa heard of the great riches farther
south. Theirs was the home of 'El hombre dorado,' or Eldorado, where,
on the inauguration of a chief, a procession of men richly dressed
marched to the borders of their sacred lake bearing him on a splendid
litter. The chief's ' naked body had been anointed with resinous gums
and covered with gold dust.' He was rowed to the middle of the lake
and plunged himself in to wash the gold from his body as an offering,
at the same time his followers casting in enormous quantities of gold
and emeralds. (Bandelier, 1893, p. 14.)

The women were farmers, potters and weavers. They cultivated
maize, beans, yucca and cotton. Irrigation was practiced, the ditches,
no doubt, being the result of organized, far-reaching and long-continued
labor among the men. The conditions for united effort in large archi-
tectural enterprises did not exist, but commerce in salt and gold was
active. It was not until a widening of the area and a lengthening of
roads farther south in the inter-Andean valley made larger aggrega-
tions of men feasible that the noblest of arts discloses itself again.

The Peruvian area.

The Quichuan, or Kechuan family, including the Aymaran, occu-
pied a strip of upland two thousand miles long on the Pacific slope of
South America, all parts of which were joined by trails. Here Indian
men reached their zenith. The dissemination of their culture was con-
terminous with their speech. The foci of this virility were Quito and
Cuzco. The architecture was rock-hewn and cyclopean, wrought with
tools of stone. Agriculture had passed to the artificial conditions in
which metallic tools were used, in which terraced gardening, irrigation,
use of guano and grain storage were practiced. The llama and paca
were bred in vast numbers for food, for textile material and for pack
beasts. Metallurgists wrought skilfully in bronze, silver and gold.

HUMAN CULTURE. 345

Woman's work, some of which had passed on to the virile stage,
was of the first rank in curiously-wrought pottery and in textiles made
from paca wool, one of the finest staples, as their delicate spindle whorls
will attest.

But these Peruvian uplands were the training grounds of men espe-
cially. Together the earth, the air, the waters, the tropical day, con-
spired to develop them. The sun was their chief deity, source of life
and power, so their principal chiefs were its earthly viceregents. The
barbarous and bloody rites of Mexico were absent, as were the graphic
system and the pictorial literature. But the monuments of a departed
glory remain.

Conclusion.

Did space permit, the Eastern Hemisphere might also be put upon
the stand as to its treatment of men and women from area to area.
It surely can not be an accident that, before artificialized transportation
interrupted the ancient regime, centers of culture and refinement sur-
vived for millenniums. Pastoral regions, land-locked seas, rice fields,
bamboo jungles, above all, granite and marble quarries, are even now
surviving and drawing around them the same refined spirits as of old.

This recital would be without a moral if it did not also apply to
the higher, manganic, complex environments in which civilized peoples
are living. There are tendencies in some to degrade men, especially to
take from tliem that spark of originality and self-reliance which is the
source of virility, of progress, of family life, and to reduce them to
intellectual and moral peonage. This, in ways not necessary to men-
tion here, lowers the birth rate, doubles the death rate, degrades the
survivors and destroys the state. From primitive times until now there
never came any solid advancement to a people that had not something
ennobling for men and women to crave, or that sacrificed them to any
god or fetish whatsoever.

346 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE COLLEGE-MAN AS LEADER IN THE WORLD'S WORK.*

By Professor R. H. THURSTON,

CORNELL ONIVERSITY.

TN the twentieth century the college-man is, more than ever before,
-■- the leader of the world. Mind leads the world; mind ultimately
is the ruler of the world. That mind leads the world which is not
simply developed into maximum intellectual perfection ; it is that mind
which, perfected and strengthened and given symmetry and vigor,
is also made most thoroughly at one with the world. It is not enough
that the man shall be a great scholar, or the greatest of scholars;
nor is it enough that he shall represent the highest culture and possess
the most vigorous brain; nor can learning, even learning united with
wisdom and culture, however magnificent the whole, in union give
leadership in this world.

A primary requisite of leadership is close and strong connection
with the great world to be led. This union being assured the true
leader gains and holds his leadership by the exercise, in unrivaled
power and with unequaled tact and judgment, of those talents which
have been reinforced by the no less indispensable learning and culture
and wisdom ; these united confer leadership. Ultimately, also, it must
be remembered that the greatest mind can never lead if apart from the
world and out of touch with those who are to be led. Any man of
good sense and rich in humanity, even though unlearned and without
extraordinary genius, will sooner acquire leadership than the wisest
and greatest man of genius the world at the time possesses, lacking this
firm hold upon those who should follow.

He who would lead must have this compound constitution and must
acquire the useful forms of learning and the hardly less valuable forms
of culture, for such purposes, and he must cultivate that wisdom and
tact and those virile qualities which are all-essential to perfect success.
He who would lead must be prepared closely to follow leaders preceding
him, and the requisites for following leaders in the front ranks are
substantially the same, apart from the peculiar genius of the general
of the army, as for leadership itself. And each should be well pre-
pared to follow, each in his proper place, and there to be content while
most efficient.

The twentieth century man will unite the qualities of sage and

* A Commencement Address, Case School of Applied Science.

THE COLLEGE-MAN. 347

worker and organizer and administrator as has no man before him.
Uniting better than in earlier centuries the essentials of the perfect
man, he is to do a larger and nobler share of that upbuilding of the
nation which shall come with the realization of the prayer of the great
American poet:*

"Our fathers' God! From out whose hand
The centuries fall like grains of sand.

O! Make thou us, through centuries long,
In peace secure, in justice strong!
Around our gift of freedom draw
The safeguards of our righteous law;
And, cast in some diviner mould.
Let the new cycle shame the old ! "

A century ago there was but one recognized form and method of
education — what is now termed the classical — composed of studies of the
ancient languages and literatures, comparatively lean and narrow as
they are ; the elementary mathematics, to the extent now attained in the
secondary schools; a homeopathic dose of physics and chemistry; a
little French ; and a somewhat larger, if less palatable dose, of ' phi-
losophy.' The century has been one of extension, broadening, elevation,
diversification and systematization of education, and of the incorpora-
tion into the curriculum of the modern languages and literatures; the
modern physical sciences experimentally developed; the arts, fine and
useful, so far as capable of scientific treatment; and the principles
and practice of the professional schools, including the latest and most
strictly taught of the group, the school of engineering and its as-
sociate professional schools of every sort. The whole evolution of the
century has been consistent in every field and technical, ' practical,' edu-
cation is simply one of the elements of a complete and perfect evolution
of modern life.

The world now acknowledges its need of the college-man and my own
letter files are crowded with calls for competent men far in excess of the
number available; while the number seeking even improved situations
is small, and I know of none out of work, unless ill. At the top, the
space is enlarging, though it is always ample for tip-top men. Formerly
positions paying five thousand dollars were rare, now the college-bred
man is coming forward when ten-thousand-dollar positions are seeking,
and failing to find, the men who are competent to fill them satisfac-
torily. Generals are, comparatively, still more rare than ever, even
though training for generalship is going on at an unprecedented rate
and the opportunities are multiplying for great men and good men and
capable men as never before.

* Whittier.

348 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

And among the leaders of the world, nobly rivaling every other,
stands the ' Captain of Industry,' now rapidly developing into general
and field marshal. Note what this sort of man has done for the world !

The inventive mechanic and the engineer, learned or unlearned,
have, in the course of the nineteenth century, given to the world the
locomotive and our whole system of general continental and transcon-
tinental transportation, the steamship and all our contemporary ocean
and river, freight and passenger lines, the automobile and the beginnings
of a new and still more widely helpful system of common highway
transportation. They have given us the mowing and reaping machines
which have reduced the time and cost of harvesting to a tenth and less
of its former value; the seeding and the threshing machines which have
done as much in their special fields; the sewing and the knitting ma-
chines which have given the sewing woman and the housewife multi-
plied working power with minimized exertion and reduced working
hours. They have provided the power-printing press with its almost
miraculous speed and accuracy of printing, counting, folding and bind-
ing together the sheets of a metropolitan newspaper 100,000 an hour;
the type-setting machine and the linotype, making easy and productive
in hardly less degree the labor of the type-setter; the whole machinery
of modern textile manufacturers with its multiplied efficiency and the
iron and steel industry, the fundamental element of civilization.

The electrician and the mechanical engineer have provided us with
the electric current in useful and infinitely pliable form, transmitting
energy of all mechanical prime motors from the source, or point of sur-
render of energy by nature, to the point of application, a mile, ten miles
or a hundred miles away, with little loss and with vast convenience and
economy. The engineer is even furnishing power for use in trans-
mitting messages over the telegraph wire. In our homes, steam-heat,
ventilation and sanitary life come largely of the inventions, the con-
structions and the operative mechanism of the engineer, who provides
the steam-boiler, the water supply, the forced ventilation, all unknown
to our fathers, luxuries to many still, but which will become the ordinary
and commonplace comforts of the great mass of the people in the com-
ing century.

The mechanic and the engineer have provided us with iron ships
and naval armaments, the battle-ship and the torpedo-boat, the ' sub-
marine,' and guns that have a range of ten to twenty miles. They are
thus doing practically all that is actually being done, at the time — they
have done practically all that has been done during the century — to-
ward making an end of war by making weapons too effective to permit
their use by nations except in desperation and under extreme provoca-
tion. Under such provocation, in the future as in the past, nations
will probably make war; but it is the engineer, probably, who will

THE COLLEGE-MAN. 349

always prove the effective peacemaker, both by his tremendous power of
making war costly of life and property and, especially, by his no less
tremendous and vastly more admirable power of making the arts of
peace the means of attaining a higher civilization, of advancing the
interests of the people, of uniting all peoples in common interests and
making political boundaries subordinate to the best interests of all.

Thus has the inventor and the mechanic provided the apparatus of
production of a new world and converted by its use barbarism into civil-
ization, light into darkness, developing in slave and drudge soul and in-
tellect and humanity. But it is not enough that the apparatus should
be provided; it must be placed in hands competent to use it effect-
ively and the whole modern organization of industries constitutes the
no less essential apparatus of utilization. Its armies of workers must
be directed by officers of every grade, commissioned and non-commis-
sioned, generals, colonels, majors, captains and lieutenants, sergeants
and corporals. Without organization the armies of industry degen-
erate into mobs and threaten life and property and become entirely in-
competent to keep in motion the machinery of production. Well or-
ganized, every invention finds its use and every people profits by its
employment; production proceeds with increasing efficiency and the
world grows comfortable and happiness becomes attainable.

Says Carlyle: "The Captains of Industry — happily the class who above
all, or, at least, first of all, are wanted in this time. ... It may truly be
said, the Organisation of Labour (not organized by the mad methods tried
hitherto) is the universal vital Problem of the World. . . . The few wise
will have, by one method or another, to take command of the innumerable
foolish; that they must all be got to take it; and that, in fact, since Wisdom,
which means also Valour and heroic Nobleness, is alone strong in this world
and one wise man is stronger than all men unwise, they can be got. . . .
This I do clearly believe to be the backbone of all Future Society, as it has
been of all Past ; and that, without it, there is no Society possible in the world."

These are the sentiments of that powerful, rough, mainly accurate
philosopher, as expressed in his ' Latter-Day Pamphlets,^ about the
middle of the nineteenth century. Carlyle, judging the works of men,
would, I am sure, declare that the noblest work of all, in our time or
in times to come, shall be adjudged that of the captain of industry,
who, in his long life of struggle and of strife, leading armies of men to
victories over material things and against obstacles set by ignorance,
prejudice, opposing interests and envy and malice, finds employment
for thousands, gives the people some essential of the people's life at
continually reducing costs with continually rising wages, gathers his
millions while giving to the nation hundreds of millions, and then, his
struggles and strifes at an end, gives his remaining years to distribution
of his wealth in the founding of libraries and to the support of the

35° POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

higher education that he himself may lack. Greater than generals
leading armies in battle, nobler than the founder of a family based upon
wealth, grander than peer or even less self-abnegating royalty, his ex-
ample is more inspiring than that of any so-called successful man,
in any vocation, in any profession, in any station in life, if the exemplar
lacks this splendid impulse to production of higher results in expendi-
ture of wealth than in its accumulation. Name and fame and dignity
and station all find eclipse in the greater name and fame and dignity
and station of him who thus practically illustrates the workings of the
soul of Abou ben Adhem. At the last, indeed, that man shall have all
these and more; he shall add to them all that better reward, convic-
tion of having earned the approval of conscience and of all good men,
of all honest citizens and every patriot, of all men whose esteem is
worth having in this world, and the pronouncement in the next : ' Well
done, thou good and faithful servant !'

And what more splendid example, eliciting the finest ambitions of
the young men coming after him, can there be than that of a man con-
quering success by overcoming every obstacle that fate can place in the
way of the earnest man, gaining all the rewards of this world, and then
— giving all back to the world in ways promoting its highest welfare !

I doubt if there can be one; yet I think I can see a modest rival.
Not all men can become generals, colonels, captains in the army of in-
dustry; but a small fraction can even secure the sergeantcies. Many a
man, starting out with high hopes and splendid promise, confident, brave
and efficient, loses his hold upon the essentials of success and must settle
back into a life comparatively unfruitful, if not absolutely unsuccessful
as judged by our usual standard. Yet such a man may be the grander
character, the greater hero. His world may be restricted to his little
sphere of minor duty or even to his home ; but even there opportunities
will come to him, and his character may ripen, his influence broaden,
his work ennoble him and all those about him. It is the spirit of
the man that makes success and makes all opportunities fruitful,
whether leading an army or serving as private in the world of finance,
of business of whatever sort, or within the walls of a humble
home.

The spirit of the Man with the Muck-rake, happily, is not that
which inspires the young man of to-day. He is too intelligent and
his thoughts rise to too high a level to be misled by the impulses of the
miser ; for he who pursues wealth alone, and for itself alone, is simply
a miser. However brilliant and however fortunate and whatever the
altitude of his position in the world of business, struggling simply for
fortune and mere wealth for its own sake means a mean and miserly
life. He is the man with the muck-rake. However large his pile of
glittering dirt, it rises simply as a memorial to his folly and his vulgar

THE COLLEGE-MAN. 35 1

aspirations; it has no more value, unused for noble purposes, than any
other mineral, than the most common and the dirtiest of dirt.

Struggling for wealth for a great purpose glorifies the otherwise
inglorious contest with all the lowest elements of greed and selfish
ambitions and meanness in all its protean forms. Williamson, living
a life of almost miserly frugality, seeking and saving and piling up
wealth from early manhood to old age, living and dying in apparent
penury that he might do a great work at the end, becomes a noble figure
when seen by the reflected light of his philanthropy and the fine closing
act of that long, inglorious life. The founding of the Williamson
School for orphan boys where they can find homes and careful training
and apprenticeship to useful trades, and later work with selected mas-
ters and employers, is a deed which renders immortal the man whose
life seemed so unheroic. That act built for him a memorial that shall
last as long as human respect and admiration for heroic deeds and love
for self-sacrifice, self-immolation in a good cause, shall endure. He
gave opportunity to humble and poverty-laden youth aspiring to educate
themselves for their work.

Already we are seeing evidence of the change that is coming and
of the value of careful training of the gymnastic and the educational
improvement of the man through systematic and scientific instruction
and drill. The leaders of even the world of business are educated men,
as a rule. Morgan, the leader of finance to-day, is a college-man, a
graduate of Gottingen; none of this class of men is likely to advocate
the endeavor of a people to become a crowd of wealthy boors rather than
a nation of gentlemen, scholars and wise men. The great financiers
of the coiintry are now usually college-men; the heads of railways are
often of that class, even though they have begun at the foot of the lad-
der ; all distinctively learned men are of that class ; our greatest men in
literature, science and art are practically all educated and cultivated
men; the inventors of the telegraph and the telephone were both edu-
cated and, in fact, learned men; all the great men in medicine and
surgery are college-men; all the great lawyers and every great jurist
on the bench is of the same rating. We make our presidents of learned
men and usually of college-men; the same is true of the members of
their cabinets, of the judges on the Supreme Court bench, of the chiefs
of bureau, and practically all men in liighly responsible positions.
Our foreign ministers and ambassadors where reflecting special credit
upon their country, like Lowell and White and Hay and Choate, have
been not only college-men but distinguished for their attainments in
the highest fields of academic learning.

In engineering no man will in the coming generation have even
an average chance of success professionally, without uniting to the
essentials characteristic of a ' general of industry ' in generations

352 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

just past the now hardly less essential requisites furnished him by sys-
tematic instruction in the sciences underlying his art and the applied
sciences and the scientific methods fundamental to his profession. Now
and then a man may get on and even possibly attain a high or leading
rank; but it will be at enormous sacrifice of strength, energy and
physical vigor ; and when he reaches his goal, it will prove that he has
gathered ' apples of Sodom ' for a ' Barmecide Feast ' and he will
mourn, as have so many before him, the lack of that which makes a life
of independence and of liberty in expenditure worth having. He will
probably, as have so many before him, if his long life of self-seeking
has not poisoned his character and killed all his sympathies, seek the
next best thing and try to help other later youth of ambition and energy
secure what he so greatly needs.

While it is largely true, as has been asserted by more than one such
man, like the fox in the fable seeking to justify his amputated tail,
that the prizes of our time and our country are now being often grasped
by the uncultivated and unlearned man, the fact is mainly due to the
circumstances that these men of to-day are mainly uneducated through
the misfortune that they were bom too soon and before higher educa-
tion had come to be general and suitable to the conditions of modern
life. In another generation this situation will be modified in the
direction of giving these opportunities to educated men in vastly larger
proportion. Meantime, every successful man, lacking education,
learning and culture, recognizes to-day, either that he has also lacked
wisdom if deliberately declining to secure an education when young,
or that he has been extremely unfortunate if deprived of that privilege
by force of circumstances. Not a man of them but envies his poorest
acquaintance who possesses the essentials of content in a life outside
the narrowing and engrossing pursuits of a business life. He lacks
preparation for precisely what all his energies have been directed to-
ward— making suitable provisions for a profitable and happy life on a
higher plane.

Visiting the famous Homestead steel works, some years ago, the
gentleman who was taking me through the mills pointed out a strong,
good-looking and evidently masterful man standing on the top of a set
of heavy roll-housings in the armor-plate mills and remarked, ' That
man is paid more than your college president ' and, indicating another
who was directing work not far away and who evidently belonged to the
same class, the most intelligent of mechanics, he said: 'That man is get-
ting pay exceeding that of any one of your professors.' Both men were
soiled and grimy, dressed in overalls and, as occasion arose, ready to
take a hand in the work, and to the unaccustomed eye of the casual
visitor they would seem to be day-workman ; but one familiar with such
scenes would instantly detect the bearing and manner of the born gen-

TEE COLLEGE-MAN. 353

eral, prepared through natural force of character to command. They
were men from the ranks, active, ambitious, good workmen, strong,
proud, yet pleasant in their intercourse with all about them, and per-
fectly well prepared for their places by knowledge, experience and
natural fitness.

Why were these skilled mechanics paid the salaries of college presi-
dents and of college professors? The answer is simple: They could
make themselves so useful and so necessary in the business that the
proprietors could make money by employing them, large as was their
compensation. Precisely the same principle operates when the presi-
dents of great corporations receive tens of thousands of dollars as salary,
or fifty thousand or a hundred thousand. The directors of such enter-
prises do not give away a hundred thousand dollars simply out of kind-
ness; their enormous interests compel them to seek out the one fittest
man in all the country, the man who is sought by perhaps many other
great enterprises as a guide and director, to make those interests safe;
identifying him, him they must have at his own price. Similarly, the
great leaders in the industries take a few millions of the many which
they earn for the people ; it is quite fair.

The unlearned and uneducated man will always have his place in
this world of ours ; but yet he will not hereafter have such opportunities,
however great his natural abilities, as he has had in the past. It is
sometimes — not very often — said by 'successful' men of this class that
the boy who grows up without learning, and who gives his boyhood's
years to unskilled labor in shops and factories and mills, may hope for
a larger success than he who is taught sound learning or given a ' liberal
and practical' education. They speak without foresight or forethought.
The world of the coming generations is to be a very different world
from that of these last, even as the last generation lived in a very differ-
ent world from that of their fathers. Education is permeating the whole
body politic and rapidly becoming distributed to all ranks in life. For
one poor man's son in college a generation ago there are many to-day,
and for one hundred years ago there are now the many multiplied,
and the man who would succeed, in whatever rank of business life,
in whatever profession, must hereafter meet in competition men who,
in addition to all the native talent which he possesses, and all the
energy, vigor and ambition which he may display, will have a brain
stored with knowledge and scientifically cultivated and trained, and
thus far better equipped than formerly for successful struggles with
the world and for seizing the opportunities and meeting the responsi-
bilities of the highest positions for which all may strive.

This is, in fact, admitted, and it is often asserted by the most wise
and able and successful of this very class, and Andrew Carnegie is

VOL. LX. — 23.

354 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

founding libraries, is promoting technical education and is organizing
a great technical institution as the noblest contribution of which he
can conceive for the benefit of those working men to whom he owes
so much and indebtedness to whom he so freely acknowledges. His
great pupil, Mr. Schwab, while encouraging the penniless boy to begin
bravely at the bottom and to work hopefully toward the top, still more
emphatically declares his respect for learning, and his high estimate
of the desirability of more general education, by himself organizing a
trade-school for Pittsburgh. A very large part of the work of founding
schools and colleges a^d universities and every form of higher, as well
as primary, education, outside the common-school system of the United
States, has been already done, and is being performed more and more
generally and liberally and generously by this very class of men. Rocke-
feller builds up Chicago University ; Ezra Cornell, uneducated and once
in poverty, nevertheless gives all his surplus, once secured, to found
a university in which 'any man may find instruction in any study' and
interests himself most of all in providing for the poor man's son ; Hiram
Sibley, owing his millions to the same sturdy, manly and vigorous
spirit, fighting his way from the bottom to the top, finds his noblest
pleasure in organizing a college in which the education of the young
mechanic and engineer may be carried up into the realms of applied
science and the highest departments of professional work.

Lawrence and Sheffield, Case and Eose and Eensselaer, and the
numerous other great philanthropists who have founded schools and
colleges, even the most thoroughly educated and most cultured of all
amongst them, it must be remembered, had no such educational oppor-
tunities as are offered the young men and women of to-day. The
coming generation is to be comparatively highly educated people, and
the man who is to succeed in dealing with the new, the modem, man
must, more than ever before, have something of that culture. Highest
success will only come of education and culture combined with a thor-
ough scientific, professional preparation for the most advanced positions
in the industrial or professional organization. In the past generations
few men were given, or could be given, even the academic education
of the time; to-day, almost any man who has the wish and a real de-
termination to succeed may secure a good education of the kind which
he may most desire. In the last generation the competition for the
high places and grand prizes, outside the then so-called learned pro-
fessions, occurred between uneducated men, as a rule ; in the generations
now coming forward that competition will be between men who have
not only the brain and the native talent, but also, and superadded to
all that the older type of man possessed, that kind of systematic training
which makes the intellectual as well as the physical gynmast, that
scientific instruction which provides learning that finds its peculiar

TEE COLLEGE-MAN. 355

use in the industrial departments of life, out of which come, directly
or indirectly, all great fortunes.

This is already coming into view as the characteristic change of
the time in the making of the personality of the notable man of the
time. To-day the educated men are taking their place in the world
and their chances of success are, and have long been, vastly greater,
in most directions, than those of the uneducated. The proportion of
educated men taking their places in history is already fifty times as
great as of the uneducated ; the next generation will see practically all
great prizes in their hands. It is a splendid evidence of the progress
of the world that he who chooses may enter the ranks of the educated,
and he who will may make himself a man of culture.

As for opportunity to gain the prizes of common life, 'what more
can the college-man ask than he now receives ? ' One man in a hundred
to-day obtains a college diploma ; these men supply one third the Mem-
bers of Congress, one half and more of our presidents and vice-presi-
dents, two thirds of our Supreme Court justices, seven eights of the
chief justices. In all ranks, in all great places, the names of immortals
are in the proportion of fifty to one, favoring the college-man. If, as
asserted by some writers of late, as I however think mistakenly, the
proportion of college men to population is falling off, then so much
the greater will be the opportunities of the wise. If, as presumably is
the fact, college-men are more and more pursuing professional studies,
that means the elevation of the professions to a higher level and still
larger opportunities for the college-man fitted to lead. To-day, the
college-man has thirty times as large an opportunity to succeed in
public life as the non-graduate, fifty times as large an opportunity to
reach the cabinet, the vice-presidency or the president's chair, sixty
or seventy times as large a probability of success in striving for the
Supreme Court, eighty or ninety times as favorable chances of becoming
Chief Justice.

In the great industries there are probably a still larger proportion
of positions which, without the scientific learning and systematic train-
ing in applied sciences given by the engineering schools, the most ambi-
tious of men and the most talented could not attain or attaining, could
not hold. The coming century will see these opportunities more and
more the prize of intellect suitably trained, of mind properly
strengthened, of talent precisely outfitted for the task of their acquire-
ment. The college-man will come more and more generally to take and
to hold one hundred per cent, of the positions assigned the generals
in the great army of industry. This is the more probable since, as is
asserted by a foreign and unprejudiced observer, * The engineering
profession is to-day, upon the whole, the best educated in America.'

In all the later centuries until the nineteenth, the college-man

356 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

seeking to unite with learning and culture, with knowledge and wisdom
of the sorts approved by the older academicians, that no less noble and
still more helpful learning of the sciences and of the arts of industry,
joining the academic with the scientific and the professional, has been
at a disadvantage among other college-men. The end of this discrimi-
nation among learnings is now in sight, and one of the most striking
signs of the times in this direction is the recent action of the Emperor
of Germany and his government, and of the Emperor of Austria-
Hungary and his officials in ranking the scientific and the professional
schools beside the universities.

Many years ago, at the instance of your annalist, was initiated the
degree of Doctor in Engineering; later, it has come to be the fact that
at least one university has established entire equality between its
colleges of arts and sciences, those of applied science and engineering
and its professional schools, both in requirements for entrance and
in those for graduation, as well as in value of its degrees in those
departments of learning. Only recently, the Emperor of Germany
has announced the same democracy of learning for his country and
the Emperor of Austria-Hungary has followed suit, making the doc-
torates of engineering and of the applied sciences, and the institutions
permitted to confer them, co-equal with the doctorates of philosophy
and their conferring universities.

I have wondered whether the presence of our distinguished scholar
and teacher, Ex-President White, at the court of Germany has not
had some influence in this progress; but, however that may be, the
American democracy of learning is now accepted in Europe and the
complete emancipation of the universities from the old monastic influ-
ence will not be long deferred. The making of the head of the great
German 'Polytechnicum' a 'Rector Magnificus' has a great and a most
encouraging significance for all nations.

The college-man is he, who, in the days which are now come,
when practically every one who wills can secure learning if not wisdom,
knowledge if not culture, sees opening before him the largest and
most attractive opportunities. Whatever any other man may possess,
he has that which permits him to aspire to companionship with, if not
leadership of, the greatest and noblest in the land and of the time.
Given similar physical vigor, equally strong aspirations, similarly clear
and strong intellect, no less refined sense of justice, sympathy and
manly brotherhood with men, it is the college-man alone who has the
advantage of systematic training of faculties, of most efficient teaching,
of scientific knowledge and of highest learning through communion
with the greatest men and the loftiest minds of the present and of
the past, and who may with greatest confidence undertake the leadership
of men. It is the college-man who is best equipped for generalship

TEE COLLEGE-MAN. 357

in the industrial army, for farthest exploration of unknown fields of
science, and for loftiest rise in the philosophical world and, even with
similar elementary experience and training, for greatest success in the
lower, but none the less great, world of money-makers. The twentieth
century man will be the college-man, in type, and it will be college-
men, as a rule, who may be expected to go farthest and rise highest
and to do the great deeds of the coming centuries, whether in finance,
in the industries, in political life or in the highest realms of science
and the loftiest worlds of morals and philanthropy.

, Shame be to him if, with all his advantages, he permits another
to wrest from him that leadership by greater desert, by more perfect
fitness. Glory be to him if he do his duty and splendidly, as he may,
accomplish his grand task !

The college-man is evidently ere long to take charge of our public
ofiBces and of the industries and professional departments, and college-
men are to find their way into prominent positions as never before;
but, fortunately,, college-men come from all sorts and conditions of
people, and it can never be said that this means the organization of a
class to dominate other classes, much less the masses. The sons of poor
men, as a rule, always have been, and probably always will be, able to
secure these positions oftener than the sons of rich men; for they have
the discipline in early life that the latter usually lack. The process
of promotion of the college-man is to be one, as well, of constant redis-
tribution of power among all classes, very much as common experience
shows the wealth of the country to be as constantly in process of redis-
tribution. The democracy of intellect and the democracy of influence
will be insured by this process in the most desirable of all possible ways.
The way is now opening to the college-man as never before, and
especially the departments of applied science and the industries offer
him opportunities beside which those of the college-man in the other
professions are insignificant.

In another generation the proportion of men, educated and un-
educated, who attain success will be vastly changed, and, happily, the
number of men who have reached competence or wealth in their voca-
tions and who must still sigh that they cannot give of their millions to
gain the education which they lack will be, probably, comparatively
small — for the ambitious poor boy will much more commonly than now
find his way to his triumph by way of the college or the professional
school. The number of wealthy men who will esteem it a privilege to
help on the work of education and to take part in other great works
will undoubtedly also steadily increase imtil, as we may perhaps hope,
the redistribution of surplus wealth may become the pleasure and the
recognized duty of all.

The college-man, leaving college, goes out into life, once more a

3S8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

freshman and with the university of life for his next place of struggle,
of aspiration and of achievement. He enters upon a new training by
different methods and through radically different experiences. He is
trained indeed but by no sympathetic and systematic teachers. He
must find his own way to knowledge, and to wisdom which is greater
than knowledge, and must struggle onward and upward with not only
little assistance, but even with almost every man's hand against him
and driven, at times, to raise his hand against every man except the
select few whose interests or whose convictions coincide with his own
and are opposed by all the world beside. But this is not difficult for the
man who knows himself in the right. In all men, it is obvious to the
close observer, there exists a fighting instinct which has its use in life
and the joy of contest makes easier the struggle for the intended goal.

Honesty, ability, capacity and power, supplemented by precisely the
right sort of learning and made available through systematic training,
in every case prove winning quantities. The complete development
of the man to a maximum of usefulness in the vocation and the life
to which he is by nature best fitted, means progress and ultimate success
— provided he can keep himself in training. An essential element of
the art of success is that of living long enough and in a state of high
working efficiency. The fact that this is so generally ignored makes
the opportunity of the man who never forgets it all the larger.

It is also the fact that it must be admitted that the incapacity,
the lack of integrity, the indifference to duty and the general inefficiency
of the average man is one of the elements of the success of the man
who does finally succeed. But, sad as is the fact, it may fairly be
accepted by the man who is at once gentleman and scholar and expert,
as contributing to his opportunity.

And now, at this period of blossoms and nature's most beautiful
season of promise and of hope, our young men and our young women
are going out from the colleges to meet their opportunities. In these
early days of the twentieth century, the college-man is the man of the
century as never before, and the college-woman is, as never before, his
most efficient helpmeet. All paths open to them and all fields are theirs
for cultivation and 'all sorts and conditions of men' look to them for
leadership and guidance. Theirs it is to prepare for leadersliip of
every industrial army, for conquest of every unknown kingdom in
nature's as yet unexplored realms, for discovery of uncounted secrets
of the mysterious workings of physical law, of sources of energy and
of new methods of utilizing all forces and all substances. These are
they who shall become generals in the industrial armies, expounders
of law, presidents, capitalists, benefactors of humanity.

For every one, if he will but seek it, there lies ahead a career as
full of accomplishment, of honor, of usefulness to the world as his best

TEE COLLEGE-MAN. 359

aspirations can reach, if he will but iise his talents, his physical powers
and his moral sense to the full extent of his capacity. His it is to
lead in invention, in every art, in manufactures, in commerce, in
philosophy, in morals, in accomplishment of the destiny of the century.
Not all will lead, but all may follow where they cannot lead, and every
one may do a good best and reap a reward proportional to the earnest-
ness, the energy, the ambition and the discretion which he may display
in usefully employing the learning and wisdom and the savoir faire
which he may have acquired. Not all may become generals, but each
may become colonel, major, captain or lieutenant, as his capacity and
ability may give opportunity; each will gain quite enough to give
satisfaction and ultimate profit. Patience and contentment were the
ideals of the earlier times ; but to-day the word is ambition and determi-
nation to make the most and the best of opportunity; content and
patience are now means to an end and the end is accomplishment. To
be content with what is gained but ambitious to secure new prizes, to
be patient in struggling against obstacles while none the less determined
to overcome them, are principles of life for twentieth century men and
women.

Success in business and in professional life is simply the means to
an end and that end is the power of helping forward the brotherhood
of man. A competence is sought by each and all ; but it is competence
to secure, when the struggle is past, opportunity for greater deeds in
the promotion of all good works, as well as in the enjoyment of all the
wonderful things that the century shall offer to the cultured, the learned,
the wise man. Wealth has its attractions for all honest men; but it
is desired by the wise man only that he may emulate the great men
who have already shown what good may be accomplished by its powerful
enginery.

The twentieth century man is the college-man ; and the college-man
who is hereafter to lead and who will be remembered as a leader is he
who uses his splendid equipment for the advantage of his fellows.

The 'self-made man' commands honor and compels our admiration;
but the self-made man is usually a very incomplete piece of work and
his kind will less and less hereafter succeed in competition among more
perfect men in the life of the coming days. Only the man who has had
a systematic education and training can hope to successfully compete
with the world's leaders, educated, able, learned and strong as they must
be, and possessing, as they must, also, quite as much natural power and
constitutional vigor as he. The twentieth century man, the college-
bred man, doing his best will do a better best than can the other man
without the now essential knowledge and culture.

36o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THEOLOGY VEESUS THEIFT IN THE BLACK BELT.

By CHARLES BARTLETT DYKE,

HONOLULU.

npHE negro's real menace to the South lies in the paucity of his
-*- earthly wants. His few demands upon the world can be met with
little exertion, and the outgrowth of his indolence is vice and crime.
Generations of slavery have crushed out the spirit of accumulation.
The 'collecting instinct' so prominent in the early life of the white
child, is almost lacking in the average negro child of the South.
Poverty, even though it may entail dishonesty, is too often accepted as
a dispensation of Providence, to be compensated for later by the glories
of Heaven.

A recent study of twelve hundred negro children brings out strongly
their limited ideas of what constitutes wealth, their lack of thrift, and
the sanction placed upon poverty by their religious teachers.* These
children returned written answers to the following questions :

Would you like to be rich? Why? How much money of your
own did you have last week ? What did you do with it ?

One half of the replies came from the cities of Wilmington (Del.),
Baltimore, Washington, Norfolk, Newport News and Hampton. The
other half came from the most enlightened rural districts of Virginia,
Georgia, North Carolina and Alabama.

To all these children, from city and country alike, wealth means
only the satisfaction of the simplest and most legitimate wants. To
wear shoes and an overcoat when it is cold, and to have a hot fire in
the winter, to have enough money to pay the landlord and the grocer,
to own a horse or a cow or a mule, to assist the mother, so that she will
not have to go out washing every day — this is their idea of riches. A
boy of twelve wants wealth "So I could be more comfortable and have a
better home than I have at this time. If I was the writ kind of a
man I would spen it for food or wood or coal for to burn."

Girls of thirteen write, as reasons for wanting to be rich: "When
you want anything you get it, and you don't hafter sit down and wish
for it because you don't get it when you wish." "Poor people cannot
have anything they want because they have to pay store bills, and the
landlord is running to the house every Saturday night for rent."

* The writer wishes to thank for valuable material Miss Kruse, of Wil-
ruington, Del.; Miss Grooms, of Baltimore; Mr. Cardoza, of Washington, and
the members of Mrs. Dyke's Hampton Child Study Circle.

THEOLOGY VERSUS THRIFT.

361

Several children wish for wealth Taecause so many white people are
rich' and a boy of thirteen explains, 1i I were rich the white man
would not cry my name down but would be my friend.'

It is a regrettable fact that one fifth of the children who desire
wealth, expect to live bedout working,' as a nine year old boy puts it.
Aladdin's lamp is sadly missing from the lives of these twelve hundred
children. Their most extravagant desires are as limited in scope as the
children voicing them are limited in number. Ten children would
travel if wealthy, seven would run a store, two would be conductors on
street-cars, five would own pianos, four bicycles, one a 'five-dollar
doll' and one a horseless carriage.

But pathetically limited as is their idea of wealth and the wants
which it would supply, half of the older children from the rural dis-
tricts reply with a decided negative to the question 'Would you like to
be rich ?' Their religion has forced them to choose between comfort in
this world and bliss in the next. A girl of sixteen expresses the pre-
vailing sentiment in her answer. "No, I would not like to be rich. Be-
cause the Bible say it is just as impossible for a rich man to get to
heaven as it is for a camel to get through a cambrac needle eye." *

As is shown by the following table, the hostility toward riches is an
increasing factor in the lives of both city and country children.

The Attitude of Negro Children toward Wealth.

Ages.

6 to 10.

n to 13.

14 to 20.

All ages.

City.

Country.

City.

Country.

City.

Country.

City.

Country.

Percentage
desiring wealth.

Percentage
desiring poverty.

93
7

82

18

90
10

70
30

83
17

50
50

91
9

65
35

While fewer than one fifth of the older children living in cities
repudiate wealth, one half of the country children from fourteen to
twenty years of age distinctly declare their preference for poverty.

The children of the city poor usually see the ordinary comforts of
life in evidence among their more fortunate neighbors and often their
ambition is aroused to acquire equally desirable property. On the other
hand, in the rural districts the standard of living varies less widely,
and there is less evidence of prosperity to stimulate the desire for
wealth. However, the disproportionate number of country children
who exalt poverty does not depend upon the merely passive effect of
neighborhood conditions. Their papers bear proof of positive teach-
ing that the accumulation of property is opposed to religion. Almost
aU who repudiate wealth do so on religious grounds. Between the

* The common 'reading' of Mark 10, 25, by illiterate preachers.

362 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

civitas diaholi of the wealthy and the civitas Dei of the poor a sharp
distinction is drawn. The wealthy are declared to be sickly, discon-
tented and unhappy, spending their nights sleeplessly guarding their
treasure. They are wicked and cruel, and 'get their wealth by stealing
from the poor.' A girl of sixteen sums up the general impression in her
statement that 'A rich person never feels happy, they is always sad and
unhappy.' 'Them that is not rich is happy Always.' The attitude of
the great majority is that 'God don't leek rich folks.'
The following replies are typical of this sentiment :

Girl, 11. Rich people is always sickly and poor people has good health.

Girl, 12. No, because I would not be good to my little brother.

Boy, 15. No, I wouldn't do justice to every one.

Girl, 15. No, I would not like to be rich because a rich person will not
enter the Kingdom of Heaven. I would rather be poor and be kind and gentle
in my manner.

Girl, 16. I would not like to be rich for —

I care not for riches.
Neither silver nor gold,
I would make sure of heaven,
I would enter the fold.

Boy, 17. No, I would forget the Lord and put my whole heart and mind in
my riches.

Boy, 20. I don't care to ever be rich. If I were rich it might come to me
to turn to the things of the world, and not on heavenly affairs.

Bearing in mind that wealth in the Black Belt means merely a
decent standard of living, we must regard the religious ban placed
upon its accumulation as a positive encouragement of unthrift.

The children's record of their expenditures for one week bears out
this conclusion. The average amount possessed by each of the twelve
hundred children, was twenty-five cents, earned by the majority in such
ways as gathering com and hay, sailing a boat, selling oysters, papers
and scrap iron, running errands and carrying packages, picking over
cinders and 'writing a letter for a lady.' It is difficult for the children
to account for the use of their money.

'I spen it honest,' 1 spent it for things,' 'I spent it for my use'
indicate, not reluctance to divulge private affairs, but the fatal facility
with which their money escapes them. Burial society dues,* school
material, car rides and clothing, including such elegancies as 'a backing
comb' and 'two yards of second moning' are among the expenditures
mentioned. The largest item for expenditure is for dainties — candy,

• The majority of negro children in the South belong to burial societies,
which, in consideration of small weekly payments, agree to furnish them a
funeral with certain desirable accessories, a hearse with plumes, a specified
number of carriages, etc.

THEOLOGY VERSUS THRIFT. 363

peanuts, pickles, cheese and cakes — to the average amount of ahout four
cents per child. The same average amount is temporarily kept by each
child. As it is often stated, 'When I get some more to put with it I
will get something I want.^ The idea of putting money away for some
definite future use is rarely found.

Booker Washington's 'great quadrivium' for his people consists in
the arts of acquiring 'property, economy, education and Christian char-
acter.' The success of Hampton and Tuskegee lies in the habits which
they form of thrift and industry, and in the new wants which their
students can supply by the exercise of their trades. No graduate from
either school will be contented without a home of his own, sufficiently
roomy to ensure decent privacy, supplied with clean and comfortable
furniture, with pictures and with books, and with a plot of land large
enough for vegetables and flowers. But in the Black Belt this consti-
tutes the wealth which is condemned by the theology of an uneducated
ministry.

This theology is undoubtedly an outgrowth of slavery. It was most
desirable to suppress in slaves any ambition to own property. But the
great obstacle to useful citizenship to-day is this very lack of ambition.
For sloth and extravagance are justified by the belief that God has
placed a ban upon the fruits of industry and foresight.*

It is a significant fact that only three children find any religious
sanction for accumulating property. A girl of thirteen declares that:
'The Lord put something on this earth for everyone,' and another
justifies herself by the statement: 'My Father in Heaven is rich.' An
Alabama boy of seventeen writes, 'I would like to be rich because I
could serve God better. , I wouldn't have to plow and get angry with the
mules.' A girl of eighteen sends a beautiful specimen of casuistry.
"I would like to be rich, then I would be able to live above wants.
Though the Bible says it is impossible for a rich man to enter the
Kingdom of Heaven. But I would trust God. Because there is noth-
ing impossible with God,"

The different religious teaching of city children certainly accounts
largely for their different attitude towards wealth. Among the negro
clergymen of the cities represented are men distinguished for broad
training, for careful investigation of social conditions and for rare per-
sonal devotion. Eealizing that the progress of their race depends
largely upon its industrial development they constantly exalt thrift
and a good standard of living in their teachings. There is no present
danger that the growth of avarice will destroy the negro's religious
sentiment. Sufficient to keep this alive for many generations is his

* A Georgia deacon is reported who was deposed from his official position
in the church because he had acquired 10 acres of land and was therefore con-
sidered unable to 'keep his mind on heavenly affairs.'

364 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

inextinguishable brotherly love. The generosity of the Southern negro
both in spirit and in deed is his most lovable trait. There is always
room in the poorest cabin for the child of misfortune, and that family
is a rare one which does not contain one or more adopted children — the
orphaned or abandoned offspring of the unfortunate. In the hungry
barren lives of these poor negro children the first thought of wealth is
what it would do for father and mother or 'for my people.' Sixty
per cent, of the children between fourteen and twenty, who wish to be
wealthy, are actuated by thoughts of others.

The following papers are typical of this spirit :

Boy, 14. I would like to be rich so when any poor man come to my door,
I would give him something.

Boy, 14. I would like very well to be rich because my father and mother
would not hafter work. All they would do to eat and sleep.

Girl, 14. Yes, so I could take care of poor and motherless children.

Boy, 18. My home would be better and I would pay some of those chil-
dren's tuitions who have to leave school, and I would try to make it possible
for them to earn more money.

Scattered throughout the South are scores of educated negro men
and women whose lives of noble devotion to their people are testifying
to this spirit of brotherly love. Of inestimable value in their work
would be the aid of pastors, industrially trained, who by teaching and
example sanctioned 'property, economy, education and Christian char-
acter.' The inherent generosity of the negro character might easily be
made the moving force in material accumulation, and so clothe it with
righteousness. But perhaps the greatest foes of rational progress are
the untrained preachers who destroy initiative and check energy.

This study certainly emphasizes the correctness of the statement
recently made by the Hon. William T. Harris:* "The crying need at
the present day is for an educated pulpit, among the colored people of
the South. The majority of these ministers are illiterate and ignorant,
and their congregations are filled with superstition, some acquired and
some hereditary, as a characteristic of the African race."

• Quoted in Washington 'Post,' May 10, 1900, from Dr. Harris's address at
the graduation exercises of the Training School for Nurses at the Freedmen's
Hospital.

THE DESCENT OF MAN. 365

THE DESCENT OF MAN.

By Professor LIXDLEV M. KEASBEY,
beyn mawr college.

/^ ENERAL evolutionary evidence led anthropologists some time ago
^-^ to postulate a pliocene precursor of man, but their surmise has
only recently been substantiated by particular proof. The search for
the so-called missing link was at first confined to the temperate zone.
Many discoveries were made, but, as the skulls and implements un-
earthed were all taken from pleistocene deposits, there was nothing to
indicate the existence of man on earth before quaternary times. It was
not, indeed, until investigations were transferred to the tropics that
earlier vestiges of human life were revealed. In the year 1894 Dr.
Eugene Dubois discovered the upper portion of a stall and some skeletal
parts of a distinctly human creature buried in the pliocene beds of East
Java. These remains have since been subjected to the strictest scientific
scrutiny and pronounced genuine. Taking the geological location of the
discovery into account, there can be no further doubt, therefore, that in
this tropical region the human species was already differentiated from
the apes in tertiary times.

Judging from the size and form of the skull, and from such por-
tions of the skeleton as remain, the variation of the human prototype,
or to give him his scientific name. Pithecanthropus erectus, was evi-
dently along both psychic and physical lines ; the former showing a dif-
ference of degree, the latter exhibiting a distinction in kind.

There are two anatomical tests of intellectual superiority: cranial
capacity and the convolutions of the brain, both of which can be applied
in the present instance. It is a well-known fact that the frontal bone,
which forms the vault of the anterior part of the cranium of young men
and apes, is divided by a suture. So long as this line of growth re-
mains open, the fore part of the cranium can expand; but if the
anterior . sutures of the skull consolidate early in life, the cranium
cannot increase in capacity beyond the size reached in early infancy.
In consequence of the early closure of these sutures in the anthropoid
apes, the cranial capacity of these creatures is restricted, and the fore
part of their brain rarely increases beyond the size attained at the end
of the first year of life. With man, however, these sutures do not con-
solidate until a much later period, and, as the anterior lobes of the
brain continue to develop, human cranial capacity increases accord-
ingly. As a result, the average human being possesses four times as

366 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

much brain surface as the anthropoid ape. Applying this test to the
human protot3^pe, we find that Pithecanthropus occupies an inter-
mediate position between the higher apes and modern man. That is to
say: if we set specimen anthropoid skulls in an ascending series ac-
cording to cranial capacity, we shall discover that between the higher
apes and Pithecanthropus there is a considerable gap; Pithecanthropus
is followed shortly in the scale by the Neanderthal group of men,
whose skulls were found in the quaternary deposits of Europe; these
in turn are succeeded by the crania of the lowest living savages; and
from this point the series runs on without interruption through the
various races of man to the highest existing types. Thus on the human
side there is practically no break in the gradual development of cranial
capacity from tertiary to quaternary, and upwards through prehistoric
to historic man. The only interval that occurs is on the animal side,
between the lowest type of man and the highest type of ape; from
which we may infer that the pliocene precursor stood considerably above
his simian relatives in intellectual capacity, though the difference was
merely one of degree.

The same result is reached by a comparative study of the convolu-
tions of the brain. It has been demonstrated that the gyri of the
brains of man and the anthropoid apes are similar, with the exception
of the convolutions which enter into the formation of the frontal
lobes. The superior and middle gyri of these lobes are much shorter
in the brains of anthropoid apes than they are in the brains of man,
and in the brains of anthropoid apes the inferior frontal gyri only
exist in rudimentary form. These anterior lobes of the brain, or more
exactly their cortical nerve elements, to a large extent control the
higher intellectual faculties. The condition of these frontal convolu-
tions is, therefore, like cranial capacity, an index of mental endowment.
Applying this test to the human prototype, we find that with respect
to his cerebral convolutions. Pithecanthropus stood considerably above
the other anthropoids, and within the line of development leading to
the higher human types. This is proved by the impressions on the
interior of the Java skull, which show that the superficies of the con-
volution of the prototype's brain was double that of the largest brain
of any anthropoid ape, and somewhat less than half that of the brain
of modem man. The convolutions themselves are also well marked
and distinctly human in form. Thus whether we judge from cranial
capacity or from cerebral convolutions, it is evident that the pliocene
precursor was psychically differentiated from the apes and endowed
with the intellectual attributes of man.

Along physical lines the modification is even more marked. From
the shape of the femur (discovered in close proximity to the skull), it
is evident that Pithecanthropus stood erect and walked upright on the

THE DESCENT OF MAN. 367

earth. If not already become, the prototype was, therefore, certainly
in the course of becoming, a true biped, using his legs alone for loco-
motion and developing perfectly plantigrade feet. Freed from further
service for locomotive purposes, his arms had, no doubt, become
relatively short and his hands exclusively prehensile. In all these
respects the reconstructed skeleton of Pithecanthropus shows a striking
divergence from the characteristic anthropoid type. The apes as a
group are stoop-shouldered tree- dwellers, with hands and feet primarily
adapted to swinging and climbing. Even the few varieties that dwell
habitually upon the ground, of which the baboon is the best example,
have not lost their inherited ability to climb, while in walking these
creatures have reverted to the quadruped habit. Some of the arboreal
apes also come occasionally to the ground; but when they walk, these
animals adopt a crouching attitude and use their arms as aids to loco-
motion. The gibbon is, in fact, the sole ape that walks erect, and this
is only possible in his case by reason of the extraordinary length of his
arms. When unconcerned this creature walks with his long arms held
aloft like balancing poles and hands outstretched to grasp any over-
hanging support, but when frightened the gibbon likewise drops his
arms to the ground and swings along between them as if on crutches.
Taking structural characteristics into account, it is, therefore, possible
to draw a sharp distinction between the short-legged, long-armed,
stoop-shouldered, arboreal ape, and the long-legged, short-armed, erect,
surface-dwelling ancestor of man.

Specific variation in the biological sense is the accomplishment of
that which variability permits, environment requires, and selection
directs. Xo stock or lineage breeds perfectly true; the line of every
descent is marked by certain modifications. The general tendency of
such modification is toward the preservation of the more useful and
the extinction of the less useful or useless characters. Survival is
thus the result of the selection of such variations as adapt the organism
to its environment, the more plastic the organism the greater the pos-
sibility of variation ; the more favorable the environment the higher the
type of animal evolved. Attributing variability, then, to the anthropoid
stock, from the fact of man's survival, we may presume that the modi-
fications characteristic of the human species were favorable in this
sense, that they adapted the pliocene precursor to his mundane environ-
ment. Judging from the further fact that the tree-dwelling apes have
long since reached the stationary stage, while land-dwelling man has
steadily continued to advance, we are also justified in considering the
terrestrial habitat more advantageous than the arboreal abode. The
descent of man appears, accordingly, to be marked by progress along the
line of heredity and improvement in the way of environment, selection
in this instance giving rise to a distinctly superior species.

368 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Passing over to particulars, it is pertinent to enquire wherein this
specific superiority consisted. In what respect was the erect ground-
walking human prototype better fitted for advancement than his
stoop-shouldered arboreal ancestors? Favorable structural and en-
vironmental variations are, generally speaking, along two lines: those
that enable animals to escape more easily from their enemies, and those
that place them in a better position to acquire sustenance for them-
selves. It is impossible to conceive that the pliocene precursor gained
any advantage over his ape-like ancestors in the former direction by
adopting an upright attitude and abandoning his arboreal abode; for
in so doing he lost his earlier and easier means of escape through the
trees, without acquiring by way of compensation any corresponding
facility for taking flight on foot. The only alternative is, therefore,
to suppose that the superiority of the human species was in connection
with the food-quest. As far as quantity was concerned there was noth-
ing, however, to be gained by coming down from the boughs, for the
trees of the tertiary forest afforded a supply of nuts and fruits far in
excess of the demand. The advantage must, therefore, have been
qualitative, that is to say, in the way of a wider food-choice. As an
erect, surface-dwelling creature man was evidently able to secure a
greater variety of subsistence than his ape-like ancestors obtained from
the trees. Being arboreal their food was confined to nuts and fruits,
while by becoming terrestrial he was in a position to add roots and
berries, and, in the course of time, also fish and flesh to his fare. Hu-
man progress appears, accordingly, to have been away from a strictly
frugivorous in the direction of an omnivorous diet. A similar tendency
is observable among the other anthropoids. The arboreal apes, for in-
stance, are naturally frugivorous, but when taken from the trees and
bred in captivity they readily become omnivorous. The semi-terrestrial
types exhibit the same proclivities in their wild state. The gorilla, for
example, usually lives on fruits, but also eats birds and their eggs,
small mammals, reptiles and the like, and has even been observed to
devour large animals when found dead. What is only an incipient
tendency among the apes probably became an habitual practice with the
ancestor of man. The superiority of the human being may thus be said
to have consisted in the acquisition of qualities and the occupation of
an environment which enabled him to widen the range of his food-
choice.

It is evident enough that the variation of environment was favor-
able in this respect, for the terrestrial habitat certainly offered bound-
less opportunities for the development of an omnivorous taste ; but it is
not so easy to see how the characters we have described as human ren-
dered these opportunities available. Berries and roots were plenty in
the woods, the streams were alive with fish, and the tertiary forest

THE DESCENT OF MAN. 369

abounded in game of all sorts; but the superficial food-ground was
already preempted by other animals, which were not likely to allow
man to encroach upon their subsistence without a struggle. Adaptation
to the new surroundings must consequently have been effected at the
expense of a conflict with the former lords of the forest. But the
human prototype does not appear to have become fitted for such a con-
test either through heredity or environment. From his ape-like ances-
tors the pliocene precursor merely inherited a large cranial capacity
and the ordinary anthropoid characters; while in adapting him to the
terrestrial habitat, selection simply set him upright on his feet and
accorded him the free use of his arms and hands. Leaving aside his
inherited endowment for the moment, the structural modifications that
occurred during the period of specific differentiation seem at first
sight to have set man at a positive disadvantage over against the
frugivorous apes, on the one hand, from whom he descended, and the
land-dwelling carnivora, on the other, with whom he had henceforth
to contend. The food of frugivorous creatures remains fixed in its
place and only requires to be plucked. These animals have, therefore,
no need of powerful prehensile organs in attack, while for defense
they usually rely upon their locomotive organs in fiight. The prey of
carnivorous creatures has, on the contrary, to be caught and killed, and
on this account these animals are supplied with vigorous attacking
organs, which in times of necessity may readily be employed for de-
fense. The apparent anomaly in man's case is that in becoming terres-
trial, he lost his former facility for climbing and making his escape
through the trees, without by way of compensation acquiring sufficient
strength or agility to cope with the land-dwelling carnivora. Cut off
from escape above and surrounded with animal enemies below, phys-
ically unfitted to lie in wait and spring, having neither claws nor
talons wherewith to grasp and hold, and not being fleet enough either
to take flight or to follow fast on foot, how then was it possible for
man to gain his acknowledged ascendancy over the beasts ?

As a group the anthropoidea are structurally adapted to two sets of
physical exercises: swinging and climbing, and striking and throwing.
In a more restricted sense, however, the two practices are incompatible,
for skill in one direction can only be acquired at the expense of pro-
ficiency in the other. For the former exercises, moreover, instinct alone
is sufficient; while for the latter a certain amount of ingenuity is re-
quired. Being arboreal, swinging and climbing are essential to the
frugivorous apes, both for food-getting and for flight, and on this ac-
count their instincts are set and their organs especially adapted to this
purpose. Those that come occasionally to the ground in search of
other aliment are, however, also able after a fashion to strike and
throw. Both the gorilla and the chimpanzee, for example, are in-

VOL. LX. — 24.

370 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

genious enough to swing sticks, and the orang will break off branches
and fling them at his tormentors or hurl the thick husks of the durian
fruit. Nevertheless, striking and throwing are exceptional even with
the semi-terrestrial apes, or at most only occasional exercises with
such as have sometimes to defend themselves upon the ground. But
for man the conditions were reversed. After the human prototype had
parted company with his arboreal fellows to become a land-dwelling
creature, swinging and climbing were no longer essential to his suc-
cess. Henceforth he had to win a place for himself on the ground, and
lacking natural means of attack and defense, in the course of his con-
test with the carnivora, he was compelled to exercise ingenuity in the
choice of artificial implements and develop his incipient capacity to
strike and throw. It is not so strange, therefore, as it at first sight
appeared, that in adapting the human prototype to his earthly environ-
ment selection should have simply set him upright on his feet and
accorded him the free use of his arms and hands; for, with his in-
herited mental endowment, these slight structural modifications were
just such as were necessary to make him a weapon-wielding animal
and so set him above his enemies.

But besides becoming psychically and physically fitted for striking
and throwing, man's faculties had also to be trained before he could
acquire proficiency in the art of weapon-wielding. To deal a straight
blow with a club, or hit a distant mark with a missile, it is necessary
to take accurate aim; and this involves the development of a good eye.
Heredity favored the human prototype in this respect, for his ape-like
ancestors had for centuries been accustomed to rely upon their sense of
sight in their search for subsistence. In developing his incipient
capacity to strike and throw, the pliocene precursor had, therefore,
simply to turn his inherited acquisitive sense to the additional service
of distance-determining and range-finding. Long practice and hard
training must, nevertheless, have been necessary before primeval man
acquired the knack of aiming accurately. The semi-terrestrial apes,
whose instincts are still set and whose organs are primarily adapted to
swinging and climbing, have never acquired any special facility in this
direction. With the exception, indeed, of the land-dwelling, tree-
climbing baboon, who is apparently able to hurl branches and hard
clods with considerable dexterity, they all exhibit a ludicrous lack of
skill in striking and throwing. On the other hand, by dint of observa-
tion and imitation, the small boy of our day soon learns to take accu-
rate aim, and savages vidthout exception show surprising skill in this
direction. Considering the necessity of the case, and judging from
the fact of human survival, it is extremely probable, therefore, that
in the course of his contest with the carnivora the prototype acquired
the knack of aiming accurately and eventually became an adept in the
art of weapon-wielding.

THE DESCENT OF MAN. 371

The keen eye that the human prototype inherited from his ape-like
precursors was also useful to him in other ways, for food-getting, path-
finding and perceptive purposes in general. In some respects, indeed,
sight may be regarded as the most serviceable of all the senses. Touch
and taste, upon which the lower orders of life rely, require actual con-
tact with the objects to be distinguished, and, consequently, only
afford a concept of the immediate environment. Hearing and smell
predominate among the vertebrates, have a broader range and are
especially useful in this, that they allow the mind to distinguish par-
ticular sounds and odors from surrounding conditions, and so afford a
perception of the local environment. The sense of sight offers still fur-
ther advantages in that it conveys a concept of the special as well as of
the universal environment and allows the mind not only to distinguish
particular objects, but also to compare them with each other and so
form a general conception of the outer world. Sight has this disad-
vantage, however: it only gives instantaneous information from one
quarter, and necessitates a turning of the head or body to take in sur-
rounding conditions, because light travels only along straight lines;
whereas hearing and smell accord instantaneous information from all
quarters, because sounds and odors disseminate in every direction from
the center of disturbance. Thus though primeval man might well
enough have relied upon his sense of sight exclusively for acquisitive
purposes, defense demanded that he develop a sentinel sense besides.
Heredity also determined this choice. Like the other anthropoids, man
continued to rely upon his hearing to warn him of danger approach-
ing from behind. Thus beside becoming adapted to walking and
weapon- wielding, we may imagine the human prototype developing
during the process of differentiation which fitted him for his mundane
career, the keen eye and acute ear that had been handed down to him
through heredity from his ape-like ancestors.

Working upon the biological principle of variability and following
the interaction between heredity and environment, by a process .of re-
construction we have been able to form a tolerably complete conception
of the original condition of man. He was evidently a land-dwelling,
omnivorous, weapon-wielding animal. For this manner of life he was
psychically and physically fitted during the process of specific differen-
tiation. From his ape-like ancestors he inherited his prehensile hand,
his keen eye and his acute ear ; in adapting him to the earthly environ-
ment selection increased his cranial capacity, developed the convolu-
tions of his brain, set him upright on his feet and accorded him the
free use of his arms for acquisitive purposes. Thus endowed, primeval
man was evidently enabled to cope successfully with the carnivora,
and eventually make himself master of the forest.

Taking the geological location of the remains of Pithecanthropus

372 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

into consideration, we concluded that the differentiation of the human
species took place during tertiary times. Eeasoning in like manner
from the geographical situation of the discovery, we may suppose Indo-
Malaysia to have been the cradle-land of mankind. The assumption is
further substantiated by the fact that this tropical region is still the
home of many of the higher apes, and was probably the point of de-
parture for the dispersion of the other anthropoids. If we turn, now,
to the evidences of quaternary culture we shall find a multitude of
human relics buried in the pleistocene or post-pleistocene deposits
of every continent of the globe. The widespread diffusion of these re-
mains proves beyond peradventure the existence of man in every
quarter of the earth at the beginning of the prehistoric epoch.
Obviously, then, the descendants of the pliocene precursor must have
wandered far and wide from the original abode during the long geolog-
ical era that elapsed between the pliocene and post-pleistocene periods.
It is incumbent on us, therefore, to determine how this migratory
movement was effected. Close upon the problem of the differentiation
of the human species comes, in other words, that of the dispersion of
mankind over the face of the earth.

Subjectively speaking, there were evidently no difficulties in the
way. The human prototype was, as we know, structurally fitted to
walk, and his omnivorous manner of life must in itself have led him
further and further forth in search of subsistence. In so far as physical
capacity and psychic motive are concerned we may, therefore, think of
the pliocene precursor as an ambulatory, omnivagant animal. It is
only when objective conditions are taken into account that obstacles
appear to arise. Granting primeval man's ability and desire to wander,
how are we to imagine he endured the vicissitudes of climate that met
him on the march? and how are we to suppose he crossed the seas that
separate the several continents? Before the great antiquity of the
human race was assured, it was necessary to assume an almost miracu-
lous power of adaptation on man's part, and furthermore to endow
him, somewhat inconsequently, with an innate knowledge of naviga-
tion; but now that science has succeeded in tracing man's ancestry
back to tertiary times, we may more logically accept the explanation
that geology affords. Instead of proceeding upon the presumption
that the climate and configuration of the earth was then as it is now,
we must reckon with the geological changes that have since occurred
and work out our conclusions accordingly. In so doing we shall find
that during these early ages of his existence on earth, environmental
infiuences opposed no insuperable barriers before the dispersive pro-
pensities of man.

If, as we have supposed, the prototype was differentiated from the
apes in Indo-Malaysia during the pliocene period, and arrived in re-

THE DESCENT OF MAN. 373

mote regions of the earth before the prehistoric epoch, the dispersion
of the human race must have been coincident with the ice age. It is
with the climatic and topographic condition of the glacial period,
therefore, that we have to do in determining the original routes of
migration. According to the astronomical explanation of glacial
phenomena, which best accords with the geological facts as far as they
are known, the Northern and Southern Hemispheres were alternately
subjected to frigid conditions. Owing, however, to the disposition
of the land-masses of the globe, glacial influences were more wide-
spread in the north than in the south. When the glaciers proceeded
from the arctic regions, the climate of the northern continents grew
cold, the thermal equator moved somewhat south of the geographical
equator and the southern peninsulas became predominately tropical.
When, on the other hand, the ice advanced from the antarctic regions,
the highlands of the southern peninsulas were glaciated, and, as the
thermal equator moved north of the geographical equator, the northern
continents enjoyed an equable climate, ranging from tropical to tem-
perate conditions and devoid of great seasonal variations. Several
such glacial cycles appear to have elapsed during quaternary times.
After the third advance of the ice from the north, however, the glacia-
tion of the hemispheres became less severe and the genial conditions
more permanent, until, towards the end of the great ice-age, the glaciers
were confined to the arctic and antarctic regions, and the globe became
divided as at present into temperature zones.

As the ice advanced for the first time from the arctic regions, the
temperature of the Northern Hemisphere became gradually colder, until
during the early part of the pleistocene period, continental glaciers
spread down over central Europe and North America. The increasing
frigidity of the Eurasian continent at this time was doubtless sufficient
to deter dispersion from the Indo-Malaysian cradle-land towards the
north. Mountain ranges also hindered progress in this direction, for
the Himalayas must have acted as a barrier towards Asia and tended
to deflect the lines of migration east and west along the central lati-
tudes. Immediately preceding and during the first glacial epoch, there-
fore, climatic and topographic influences combined to confine the original
course of dispersion within the Indo-Mediterranean-Malaysian belt and
the lower peninsulas of the Old World. This southern portion of the
Eastern Hemisphere, it should be noticed, is separated from the north-
ern continental area by a broken mountain range, running from the
Himalayas to the Pyrenees. These mural masses protected the low-
lying lands along the southerly slopes of the mountains from the in-
creasing cold of the glaciated north, so that in spite of the fact that
the thermal equator ran somewhat south of the geographical equator
at this time, tolerable climatic conditions prevailed everywhere below

374 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the Himalayan line. In these early days, moreover, the penisula por-
tion of the Old World constituted a practically continuous land-mass.
Toward the west India was connected with Africa, and Africa was
joined to Europe by two or more isthmuses. In the opposite direction,
the Malaysian peninsula was extended toward Australia through what
are now the separate islands of Sumatra, Borneo and Java; Australia
was likewise connected with New Guinea, and the immense island con-
tinent thus constituted was to all intents and purposes coterminous
with the southeasterly extensions of Malaysia. It must have been pos-
sible, therefore, at this time for primeval man to proceed from the
Indo-Malaysian abode along the central latitudes, to the Atlantic on
the west, and far out across the Pacific on the east, without having to
cross the open seas.

During the course of the pleistocene period the ice disappeared from
the north and glaciation set in from the south, the glaciers in this in-
stance proceeding from the antarctic regions and from the highlands of
the southern peninsulas. The thermal equator also moved north of the
geographical equator at this time, and during the long interglacial epoch
that followed, lasting at least ten thousand years, the whole Northern
Hemisphere enjoyed an equable climate, ranging from tropical to tem-
perate conditions and devoid of great seasonal variations. The effect of
this change must have been to limit the lines of migration toward the
far south, and greatly to extend the course of dispersion towards the
northeast and northwest. Or to put it more exactly : entry into South
Africa was probably barred by the increasing cold, but as the influence
of the southern glaciers did not extend as far north as the Indo-Medi-
terranean-Malaysian belt, the inhabitants of this region were doubtless
free to wander east and west as before along the central latitudes. Nor
did climatic conditions any longer prevent men from penetrating into
the continental area beyond. Mountain masses still barred the way
in the center, to be sure ; but passages were open on either side ; from
the Mediterranean region into Europe, and from the Malaysian region
into Asia. Above the Himalayan line the Tibetan plateau interposed
itself between these Mediterranean and Malaysian emigrants and prob-
ably kept them for long ages apart. For this reason, and doubtless also
because the maritime regions offered greater attractions to primeval
man than the inland areas, the earliest lines of migration appear to
have followed the Atlantic and Pacific coasts of the Eastern Hemi-
sphere into the northern latitudes, where the shore lines of the
Eurasian continent stretch out toward America. During the first and
second interglacial epochs the two hemispheres were, indeed, practically
coterminous in these parts. This was due to the fact that the level of the
northern oceans was lowered at these times, leaving land-bridges exposed
to view which have since become covered by the sea. As a result, the

THE DESCENT OF MAN. 375

Atlantic and Pacific routes of migration were continued along the
northern latitudes into the Western Hemisphere. Toward the north-
west, the British Isles then formed an integral part of the European
continent, and from this peninsula, land-connections were in all prob-
ability extended through Iceland and Greenland to America. In the
far northeast, Asia was likewise joined with America by what geolo-
gists call the Miocene bridge, which probably lasted into quaternary
times ; and after the Behring strait finally broke through, the Aleutian
island chain still linked the two continents together along the Pacific.
As far as climate and topography were concerned, during these
interglacial epochs there was nothing, therefore, to prevent the Medi-
terranean and Malaysian emigrants from pushing northwestward
through Europe and northeastward though Asia into America.

As the glaciers advanced successively from the arctic and antarctic
regions, the climate and topography of the Northern and Southern
Hemispheres varied in this way at least three times. After the third
glacial epoch, however, the changes were less marked, until towards the
close of the ice age, the configuration of the earth gradually assumed
its historic form and the globe became divided as at present into tem-
perature zones. The possibilities of dispersion during the glacial, inter-
glacial and post-glacial periods may, accordingly, be generalized as fol-
lows: Each time the Northern Hemisphere was glaciated, the migra-
tions of men must have been confined for the most part within the
Indo-Mediterranean-Malaysian belt and the southern peninsulas of the
Old World. During the genial epochs that intervened between the
three great glacial movements from the north, the continental area was
open to incursion on either side, the climate of the Northern Hemisphere
was everywhere equable, and the topographic conditions were such as
to encourage migration along the Atlantic and Pacific shores of the
Eurasian continent into the arctic peninsulas of the New World. As
the arctic glaciers became more and more restricted to the northern
regions, primeval men were probably able to hold their own in the
continental area and migrate east and west across Eurasia. But after
the third glacial epoch, if not before, the Atlantic land-bridge was
broken; so that henceforth access to America was only possible along
the Pacific, by means of the Aleutian island chain.

Cave deposits, kitchen-middens and fossil remains mark the course
of the dispersion of mankind in these different directions. The
aboriginal inhabitants of the now separated continents and isolated
islands of the globe also preserve certain distinguishing characteristics
by which the lines of their respective ancestries can be traced back
along these several routes to more or less definite points of departure
about the Indo-Malaysian abode. There is archeological and ethno-
logical evidence, therefore, to show that primeval men migrated

376 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

originally along the lines laid down by the climate and topography of
the glacial periods. But these indications of the actual courses of
migration are beyond the range of the immediate enquiry, and should,
therefore, be reserved for separate consideration. It is sufficient for the
present to have pointed out the possibilities of dispersion, which may
be summarized in conclusion as follows: From the skeletal parts of
Pithecanthropus we are assured that the pliocene precursor could
walk; the nature of his food-quest affords the wandering motive; the
widespread diffusion of quaternary culture convinces us of the fact of
dispersion ; and the data of geology define the routes provided by nature
for the original migrations of mankind.

DISCUSSION AND CORRESPONDENCE.

377

DISCUSSION AND CORRESPONDENCE.

THE FUNCTIONS OF A MUSEUM
AND OF ITS DIRECTOR.

To the Editor: — Professor E. Ray
Lankester, director of the Museum of
Natural History, London, concluded an
address on 'The Scope and Functions
of Museums' at the opening of a new
wing of the Ipswich Museum on No-
vember 8 with the following words:

A county museum is not a place for
children or school-teaching: it is not
Noah's Ark or Madame Tussaud's wax-
works, but a place for the delight of
grown-up men and women. It should
be full of the things which are the
pride of those who care for the history
and natural life of their coimtryside,
and just as you do not use a picture
gallery to teach the elements of draw-
ing, but for the enjoyment of fine pic-
tures, so your county museum must be
for the enjoyment by your grown-up,
educated people of the rarities of na-
ture and of art, and not for the cram-
ming of schoolboys and schoolgirls.

If a local museum is a place no bet- j

ter for school teaching than Madame
Tussaud's ' chamber of horrors,' or if
it only serves for the cramming of
school-boys, so much the worse for the
museum and its director. Neither has
Professor Lankester a very high opin-
ion of adult visitors, for in the same
address he calls them ' innocent ' and
' casual well-meaning.' Such sarcasm
and assumption of superiority ill befits
the director of a museum.

Surely a man who accepts a position
such as the directorship of the British
Museum of Natural History or the
secretaryship of the Smithsonian Insti-
tution owes a definite duty to the pub-
lic, and should not permit his impres-
sions of his own dignity to interfere
with the services for which he is paid.

Can you not, sir, secure for your
excellent journal an article on ' The
Scope and Functions of a Museum Di-
rector ' ?

A Teacher.

378

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

SCIENTIFIC LITEEATUEE.

RECENT PSYCHOLOGICAL BOOKS.

The ' Dictionary of Philosophy and
Psychology,' edited by Professor J.
Mark Baldwin and published by the
Macmillans, is a work of magnitude
and importance. Only one of the three
volumes has as yet been issued, but
it suffices to give a correct impression
of the character, range and quality of
the undertaking. It falls between a
dictionary and an encyclopedia, and in
rather an eclectic fashion, some of the
articles treating a small topic con-
cisely while others fill many pages. In
a first attempt of this character, with
assistant editors and contributors scat-
tered all over the world, it was ob-
viously impossible to secure complete
uniformity, and the frequency with
which the editor's initials occur indi-
cates that he realized the need of secur-
ing a unitary point of view. It is
evident, however, that there is less
agreement as to the fact and theory
among philosophers and psychologists
than is the ease in other sciences. All
the more credit must for this very rea-
son be given to editor, contributors and
publishers for producing what will for
many years be the standard reference
work in philosophy and psychology.

The French excel in the production
of year-books, and ' L'ann^e psycholo-
gique,' of which the seventh volume has
recently been issued, is one of the best
of them. The preparation must in-
volve great labor on the part of the
editor, M. Binet, for the researches,
filling 558 pages, come chiefly from his
laboratory at the Sorbonne, and the
reviews, filling about 150 pages, are
nearly all written by his own hand.
The bibliography, containing 2,627
titles, is, however, reprinted from that
of the ' Psychological Review,' and we

fail to find reference to this fact. As
there is no psychological journal in
France, this work is essential to those
who wish to follow the progress of
experimental psychology in that coun-
try.

M. Piferre Janet's ' Etat mental des
hyst^riques' was translated into Eng-
lish by the late Mrs. Hiram Corson
and is now published by the Putnams.
The book appeared in French some
nine years ago, and the need of the
present English version is not quite ob-
vious. It was sufficiently accessible to
scientific men in the original, and it is
to be feared that if the thousand copies
which American publishers regard as
the minimum sale that warrants ac-
ceptance are distributed, they will fall
chiefly into the hands of those whom the
translator call ' hystericals.' M. Janet
has made some careful observations,
and in his explanations lays great
stress on subconsciousness, split-off
ideas and the like. The French have
done so much more work in these di-
rections than others that we should
perhaps accept their theories. But
conservative scientific and medical
men prefer to wait.

' Intuitive Suggestions,' by Mr. J. W.
Thomas, bears the respected imprint of
Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co., and
opens the question as to whether pub-
lishers accept any responsibility for
their books, beyond the financial one.
The author places on his title-page the
text : ' And God said. Let there be
light; and there was light.' We fear
not, if the reference is to the contents
of the book. The author expects Lon-
don business men to soar ' above the
smoke and din to seek their homes in
the country,' not in flying machines but
by ' levitation.'

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

379

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

THE CARXEOIE INSTITUTION.

One of the most noteworthy events
in the history of science was the be-
quest of James Smithson, an English-
man dying in Italy, in 1829, of about
§500,000 to found at Washington 'an
establishment for the increase and dif-
fusion of knowledge among men.'
Equally important is the gift of Mr.
Andrew Carnegie of $10,000,000 to es-
tablish in Washington an institution
for the encouragement of ' investiga-
tion, research and discovery.' These
two foundations represent more than
an addition to the sum annually spent
on scientific work. They stand for
the spirit of science, not confined by
place or buildings, titles or degrees.
In foreign countries we are often
called worshipers of wealth and osten-
tation; in reply we need only point to
the Smithsonian and Carnegie institu-
tions, situated in the national capital,
but extending throughout the country
and beyond, quietly and powerfully
representing the highest ideals of
knowledge and research.

The Smithsonian Institution under
Henry and Baird fostered science in
many directions, having been more or
less a factor in the establishment of
the National Library, the Weather
Bureau, the Geological and Coast Sur-
veys and the Fish Commission. It
still has under its charge the National
Museum, the Bureau of American
Ethnology and the Zoological Park.
The Carnegie Institution with twenty
times the resources of the Smithsonian
will henceforth be a great influence for
the advancement of knowledge. The
founder states that the primary ob-
ject is the promotion of research, and
specifies several directions in which
work w-ill be undertaken. The Insti-

tution will probably supersede the
Washington Memorial Institution in
the function of utilizing for advanced
work the resources of the government
at Washington and elsewhere. It will
also aim to increase the efficiency of
universities and other institutions by
providing funds for investigations and
for fellowships. It will assist in the
publication of scientific work. It may
give salaries and pensions to permit
the continuous prosecution of research.
Mr. Carnegie shows much insight in
particularly specifying as one of its
objects ' to discover the exceptional
man in every department of study, when-
ever and wherever foxmd, and enable
him by financial aid to make the work
for which he seems specially designed,
his life work.'

This is, indeed, the great need of
science — to find the men. Given the man
and there is no danger but that the
research, the discovery and the publica-
tion will follow. What is essential is
to secure for research the men best fit-
ted for it. Good men are needed for
all kinds of useful work; but on the
whole the business man, the lawyer or
the physician is less likely to contribute
to the general welfare than the inves-
tigator. But the investigator is ex-
actly the man whose profession is most
insecure. He never depends on his sci-
entific work for his support ; ' he must
earn his living by teaching, by admin-
istrative work or the like. A good
novel or a good picture has market
A'alue, a good research has none. The
author is not only unpaid, but is for-
tunate if his paper or book can be
properly published without expense
to himself.

The number and quality of men en-
gaged in scientific work can apparently

38o

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

be increased best in two ways; by per-
mitting a larger number of young men
to carry on work long enough to be
eligible for national selection, and by
offering certain prizes for those who
reach the highest efficiency. Our uni-
versities now provide a considerable
number of scholarships and fellowships;
they should be increased, but even more
than these we need offices, such as the
secretaryship of the Smithsonian In-
stitution, that will attract young men
to science as a profession and provide
adequate rewards and the best oppor-
tunities for those whose work is most
fruitful. It has already been pointed
out in these columns that while a
lawyer may become a judge, a clergy-
man a bishop, a business man a mil-
lionaire and the like, there are no simi-
lar rewards for a scientific man or a
university professor. At a compara-
tively early age he receives the maxi-
mum salary of from three to five thou-
sand dollars, and no further advance-
ment is possible — unless he leaves scien-
tific work to become an inventor or a
college president.

The directorship of the Carnegie In-
stitution will be one prize, but its
duties will be largely administrative.
The trustees of the institution selected
by Mr. Carnegie are men of tried ad-
ministrative ability; but they are too
busy and too widely scattered over the
country to attend to the details of the
scientific work of the institution. We
should view with much satisfaction the
establishment of a board of scientific
directors who should at the same time
be research professors, spending part
of the year at Washington and part at
their present universities or institu-
tions, receiving ample salaries and hav-
ing the best facilities for work. The
honor of selection for this position and
a salary comparable to that which may
be earned in other professions would
add great attractiveness to science as a
profession and serve as a continual
stimulus to scientific research.

There are, however, many ways by

which the great resources of the Car-
negie Institution can be utilized for the
benefit of science, and the trustees are
certainly competent to select the best
methods. There is no doubt but that
the institution will greatly aid in giv-
ing the United States a leading place
among the nations that are contribu-
ting to the advancement of science, and
will tend to make Washington one of
the three or four chief scientific cen-
ters of the world.

MEETINGS OF SCIENTIFIC SO-
CIETIES.

The meeting in Chicago at the be-
ginning of the year of the American So-
ciety of Naturalists and of the national
societies devoted to the biological sci-
ences was of more than usual interest.
It marked the establishment of con-
vocation week. At the instance of the
American Association for the Advance-
ment of Science our leading universi-
ties have set aside for the meetings of
scientific and learned societies the week
on which the first day of January falls,
greatly facilitating those meetings of
scientific men, which are among the
most potent factors in the advancement
of science. The meeting at Chicago was
also noteworthy because it was the first
to be held west of the Atlantic sea-
board. It will be remembered that the
American Association met this year for
the first time west of the Mississippi,
and our two great scientific societies
and centers of affiliation have thus in
the same year become truly national in
character. The remarkable development
of science in the central states within
recent years is witnessed by the fact
that the meeting at Chicago was the
largest and probably the most impor-
tant ever held by the affiliated societies.
There were over 300 scientific men in
attendance, and over 250 scientific
papers were presented. It is of course
impossible to give here any adequate
account of this great mass of scientific
work. The annual discussion, in which
Professors Minot, Davenport, McGee,

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

381

Trelease, Birge, Forbes and Cattell were
the speakers, considered the interrela-
tions of our scientific societies. There
was a consensus of opinion that we
should develop local centers for scien-
tific meetings, but must have also na-
tional societies, and that these should
be united in a great association repre-
senting the whole country and all the
societies. The practical outcome was
the decision of all the societies to meet
next winter in Washington.

With the American Society of Natu-
ralists met at Chicago the national
scientific societies devoted to morphol-
ogy, physiology, anatomy, bacteriology,
psychology and anthropology. The
American Chemical Society met at the
same time at Philadelphia with an at-
tendance of over two himdredand a full
program. The Society now contains
over 2,000 members, and is perhaps the
strongest and best organized of our
special scientific societies. It conducts
an excellent journal, has numerous
local branches which hold frequent
meetings, and is affiliated with the
American Association. At the recent
meeting Professor F. W. Clarke gave
the presidential address, dealing with
the outlook for chemistry in the future
\'iewed in the light of the past, and Pro-
fessor C. F. Chandler lectured on the
electrochemical industries of Niagara
Falls. The Geological Society of Amer-
ica also met during convocation week,
the place being Rochester, N. Y., and
the time December 21 to January 2.
The president, Dr. Charles D. Waleott,
gave an address on 'The Outlook of
the Geologist in America,' and the pro-
gram contained the titles of some thirty
papers. The Astronomical and Astro-
physical Society of America met at
Washington, while the American Mathe-
matical and Physical Societies and the
Society for Plant Morphology and
Physiology of the Eastern States met
in New York. All these societies will
meet next winter with the American
Association for the Advancement of
Science at Washington during convoca-

tion week, where there will be a con-
gress of American scientific men sur-
passing in size and importance all its
predecessors.

WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY.

As all our readers know from the
daily papers, Mr. Marconi has succeeded
in transmitting wireless signals across
the Atlantic from Cornwall, England,
to St. John's, Newfoundland. The elec-
trical waves were received at St. John's
by a long wire suspended by a kite and
by means of a telephone, presumably
through the mediation of a coherer. A
detailed description of Mr. Marconi's
latest apparatus has not been pub-
lished. However, some results obtained
by him several months ago show that
his apparatus has been improved in its
selective action, and this latest achieve-
ment shows that little remains to be
done in the way of increase of power.
Nevertheless there seem to be decided
limitations to the utilization of vsdre-
less telegraphy; it is at present much
slower than the standard Morse appa-
ratus using a wire, the receiving oper-
ator cannot interrupt the sender but
must wait patiently until the message
is finished, there is no assurance of
secrecy, and but one system can be
operated at a time within the limits of
its range.

A map of the world showing all cable
connections is a very complicated affair,
and the supplanting of these cables by
wireless apparatus is out of the ques-
tion, at least until the Marconi sys-
tem is evolved into something very dif-
ferent from what it now is. The facts
may be made clear by an acoustical
analogy. The ordinary confusions of
sounds in a stock exchange is bad
enough, but if the manifold and char-
acteristic shadings of voice were re-
duced to a monotony of mere clicks and
if the resolving or selective power of
the listener's ear were at the same time
reduced many thousands of times the
confusion would become hopeless in-
deed. The loudness of each speaker

382

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

would have to be reduced, and each
speaker and his listeners would have
to occupy a certain space to the ex-
clusion of all others. Under these con-
ditions a given speaker's demonstra-
tion of his power to make himself heard
over a distance of many miles would
scarcely be looked upon as of practical
importance, unless indeed it were seri-
ously questioned whether his associates
might have the right to restrict the ex-
ercise of their vocal powers. The
proper field of wireless telegraphy ap-
pears to be the overspreading of limited
areas, especially areas of water, with
telegraphic facilities.

AS SEEN IN GERMANY.
Thosk who wish to know something
of the educational (educational in the
broadest sense of the word) advantages
enjoyed by the eastern United States
can not do better than to consult Dr.
A. B. Meyer's memoir on the museum
of this section. Dr. Meyer came here
•in the summer of 1900 to obtain all
possible information concerning our
museums, their construction, arrange-
ment, methods of installation, and the
scope of his inquiries was extended to
libraries and art museums. The re-
sults of his observations are being pub-
lished by the Royal Museum of Dres-
den and the second part of the memoir,
for it amounts to that, has recently
been issued and comprises one hundred
quarto pages vsdth fifty-nine illustra-
tions. It is devoted to the museums,
libraries. Art Institute and University
of Chicago, and Chicago has every rea-
son to feel gratified at the showing
made in this paper. At the head of
the text stands Chicago's motto ' I will '
(Ich will), and Dr. Meyer has frequent
occasion to refer to the energy and
creative power of this million-inhabited
city, if one may paraphrase the author,
of the west. In fact we doubt if many
in Chicago, to say nothing of those liv-
ing in other portions of the United
States, realize the rapid strides she
has made in — using the term in its

widest sense — great educational insti-
tutions. Like the former part this
gives a brief history of each institu-
tion considered, its origin, aims, endow-
ment, expenditure, and the methods by
which it endeavors to accomplish the
desired ends. Then follows a detailed
account of the collections, be they of
natural history, art or books, with
special notice of any original or im-
portant device for installation, labeling
or cataloguing. As Dr. Meyer is not
only a museum director, but one ac-
quainted with the mechanical details
of the various branches of work, and
one who has devoted much time and
thought to the construction of cases
and methods of installation, he here
speaks by the book.

The illustrations show an exterior
view of each of the buildings con-
sidered, and noteworthy features of the
interior, as well as of special cases and
fittings. There are also in most in-
stances plans giving the arrangement
of the various floors, and sections show-
ing special modes of heating or venti-
lating, and of the construction of mod-
ern iron frame buildings.

Dr. Meyer considers that the ex-
istence of the Field Columbian Museum
should stimulate rajther than deter the
growth of the collections of the Chi-
cago Academy of Sciences, and that not
only do these two institutions supple-
ment one another, but that two
museums are a necessity for a city
which like Chicago covers an area of
180 square miles. The plans for the
Academy of Sciences are well conceived,
and it would be well to consider them
carefully in the event of erecting a
new and permanent building to replace
the present Field Columbian Museum.
As we all know this was taken for a
museum in default of any other avail-
able building, and Dr. Meyer may well
criticize its halls as being on too large
a scale to fit them for the best arrange-
ment of a museum. One of the re-
sults of this is to bring about a some-
what heterogeneous arrangement of the

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

383

collections and to place in juxtaposi-
tion, or to include in one view through
lack of division, very different classes
of objects. It is hoped that the time
may soon come when less money shall
1)6 spent on specimens for exhibition
and more in research and publication.
Beyond a certain point the mere ex-
hibition of material can not be advan-
tageously carried, for the confusion of
mind created by a multitude of objects
defeats the educational effect which a
museum should exert.

The libraries of Chicago — the John
Crerar, the Newberry and the Public
Library — are looked upon as sustaining
much the same relations to one another
as do the museums, each having its
own field, and one supplementing the
other, while the friendly rivalry be-
tween them is resulting in the accumu-
lation of a vast number of books and
pamphlets. The combined entries of
these three libraries now amount to
650,000, and at the present rate of
growth, they will, in twenty-five years,
reach a million, the present size of the
library of Berlin, which ranks third
among the great libraries of the world.

One quarter of the present volume is
devoted to the University of Chicago,
treating in detail its many peculiar and
progressive features with special refer-
ence to its museums and laboratories.
In the former the inclusion of paleon-
tological collections with those illus-
trating the modem life of the globe is
regarded as an excellent feature, and
this is no doubt true to a great extent.
Still such a union is much more fea-
sible in a small than in a large museum
and also much depends upon the point
of \'iew, upon whether it is desired to
show the relations of all living things
to one another, or the successive faunas
and floras of the globe and the steps
by which the existing order of plant
and animal life has been reached.

In conclusion Dr. Meyer pays an
eloquent tribute to Chicago, for which
he predicts a great future as a center
of science, literature and art.

IMPORTANT PALEONTOLOGICAL
DISCOVERIES.
The origin of the proboscideans, the
Mammoth, Mastodon and Dinotherium,
has long remained an unsolved prob-
lem, and until recently no form was
known below the lower Miocene. Senor
Ameghino thought he had discovered
the ancestor of the group in the Santa
Cruz formation of Patagonia, but his
views were not shared by others, and
the late Professor Cope believed, with
much to support the belief, that the
founder of the family would be found
in Asia.

During the summer of the present
j year Dr. C. W. Andrews, of the British
Museum, was engaged in collecting in
the FayUm, Egypt, obtaining numbers
of vertebrates from deposits believed to
be of Eocene or Oligocene age, most
probably the former. Among the mam-
mals represented was a small and
primitive species of Mastodon, named
Palceomastodon beadnelli, character-
ized by the simple structure of the last
grinder and by the fact that no less
than five teeth were in use at once on
either side of the lower jaw. Other
known species of Mastodon have but
three teeth in use at any one time on
either side of the lower jaw, so that
this indicates an animal of a much
more generalized type. More than this.
Dr. Andrews obtained numerous speci-
mens of another animal, named Meri-
theriu7n, about the size of a large tapir,
having large and tusk-like incisors and
molars, whose structure suggests that
of the teeth of the Dinotherium. This
creature Dr. Andrews considers to be
the long sought ancestor of the Mas-
todon type of proboscideans. The
fauna of these Egyptian beds is quite
different from that of deposits of cor-
responding age in Europe, and the few
species so far discovered hint that a
more complete knowledge will throw
much needed light on many obscure
questions in geographical distribution.
The indications are that prior to the
Miocene southern Africa was an exten-

384

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

sive and isolated continental area, or,
that at least it had no connection with
Europe.

In the United States particular at-
tention has been given to working out
the pedigree, in the fullest sense of the
word, of the horse, and in doing this
the American Museum of Natural His-
tory has been especially favored by the
gift of a considerable sum of money
for that purpose. Under the direction
of Professor Osborn parties have been
successful in Texas and northeastern
Colorado in obtaining unusually com-
plete specimens of early horses. In the
former locality Mr. Gidley discovered
the fossil remains of a small herd of
Miocene horses of the genus Proto-
hippus, while in Colorado Messrs.
Matthew and Brown obtained very
complete specimens of Anchitherium
from the Upper Miocene associated with
at least three species of horse-like ani-
mals that represent side branches of
the equine tree. The disappearance of
horses from North America is a very
singular fact; they developed here,
literally growing up with the country,
and they ranged from the Atlantic to
the Pacific and from Alaska to Pata-
gonia. It is even probable that they
migrated to Asia at the time the Mam-
moth was making his way eastward,
and yet they disappeared completely.
It would seem that Dr. Jordan's three
laws of distribution need the addition
of another to explain the dying out of
animals. It can not be said that a
series of species that developed in a
given region was not adapted to it,
and the rapid increase of horses that
run wild on the pampas of South
America and the plains of the west
shows that the modern horse was per-
fectly fitted to those regions.

One more important discovery dur-
ing this year was the finding by Mr.
Barnum Brown, while collecting for the
U. S. National Museum in the Trias

of Arizona, of plates of a huge laby-
rinthodont, at least as large as those
European species restored by Water-
house Hawkins in the likeness of
gigantic frogs, for their tails were not
then known. The specimens have been
identified by Dr. Fraas as belonging to
the genus Metopias, and he regards this
of special importance as showing that
the beds in Arizona correspond to the
historic Keuper of Europe, that genus
of amphibians being confined to that
formation.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS.
We regret to record the deaths of
Mr. Clarence King, the eminent geol-
ogist; Sir William MacCormac, the
British surgeon; Professor Aleksandr
Aleksandrovic Kovalevskij, professor
emeritus of zoology at the University
of St. Petersburg, and Dr. Arthur
Konig, associate professor of the physi-
ology of the sense organs at the Uni-
versity of Berlin.

The newly elected presidents of the
scientific societies, whose meetings are
described above, are as follows: The
American Chemical Society, President,
Ira Remsen, Johns Hopkins University ;
American Society of Naturalists, Pro-
fessor J. McKeen Cattell, Columbia
University ; American Morphological
Society, Dr. H. C. Bumpus, American
Museum of Natural History; American
Physiological Society, Professor P. H.
Chittenden, Yale University; Associa-
tion of American Anatomists, Professor
G. S. Huntington, Columbia Univer-
sity; American Psychological Associa-
tion, Professor E. C. Sanford, Clark
University; American Society of Bac-
teriologists, Professor H. W. Conn,
Wesleyan University; The Society for
Plant Morphology and Physiology, Pro-
fessor M. V. Spalding, University of
Michigan; The Geological Society of
America, Mr. H. N. Winchell, Minne-
sota.

VOL. LX. — 25.

The AvENtiE of Royal Palms (Oreodoxa oleraceaj ix the Botanicai.

Gakdens at Rio de Jajsteieo. Feom a Photogeaph

BY M. Fekrez.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

MAEOH, 19 0 2.

TPIE PALM TEEES OF BEAZIL.

By Pkofessoe JOHN C. BRANNER,

STANFORD UNIVERSITY.

/^F all the graceful, beautiful and bizarre plants that grow in the
^-^ tropics none are more graceful and none give such character to
tropical vegetation as do the palms. Varied in form and size, adapt-
ing themselves to a wide range of elevation, sweeping up from the
sandy shores of the sea across marshes, flood-plains and well-watered
forests, over barren and thirsty deserts to the subalpine slopes of lofty
mountains, they are, above all plants, the ones that give character and
picturesqueness to every tropical landscape. And there is no place in
the world where one finds a greater number of species of palms or
where they grow more abundantly or more luxuriantly than they do
in Brazil, and above all, in the valley of the Amazonas.

JSTo good word is needed for the grace and stately beauty of palm
trees. Those of us who live in the temperate regions already appreciate
these ornamental plants to such an extent that there is now an estab-
lished business in the manufacture of artificial palms for decorative
purposes, to say nothing of their extensive cultivation by gardeners
and seedsmen. As useful plants in other ways we know, as a rule, but
little about them. In their native tropics palms are better thought of ;
the people fully appreciate them as ornamental plants, especially for
large landscape effects. This is well shown in the use of the royal
palms in Brazil. One of the most impressive sights in the sightly city
of Eio de Janeiro is the avenue of royal palms at the Botanical Gar-
dens. It is impossible to convey an idea of the grandeur of these enor-
mous trees with their trunks as round and smooth as if they had been

388 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

turned on a lathe, tapering from base to summit and crowned by
clusters of plumy fronds more than a hundred feet from the ground.
J do not know just how old these trees are, but a hundred years or so,
1 have been told; nor how tall they are, but that one can see for him-
self; and the height is certainly impressive. The kind of palms form-
ing this particular avenue (Oreodoxa oleracea) has been extensively
planted in parks and in public and large private grounds since the
stately groups at the Botanical Gardens came to be appreciated more
than half a century ago. To-day these trees are to be seen in most of
the capitals and larger cities all over Brazil.

But the Brazilians think of palms more seriously as useful in other
ways than as landscape ornaments. Indeed, to the traveler in the
interior of Brazil, one of the most striking things about palms is the
great number of uses to which they are put, uses extending to all parts
of the plant. It is a matter of great importance in the tropics that
plants bear their fruits and yield their other products with but little
or no labor on the part of man, and this the palms all do. To mention
all their uses in a short article is quite impossible. It is said of the
coco* palm, for instance, that it has a use for every day in the year,
and whether this be true or not, it is near enough the truth to illustrate
the point; and it is no extravagant statement of its virtues. Out of
more than a hundred species of Brazilian palms upon which I made
notes there is hardly one that has not some special and important use.

To the casual observer it might appear that palms are plants of
such marked characters that there would be no difficulty in distinguish-
ing the species. At least that was my own impression when I first
walked through an Amazonian forest and observed the apparently
wide differences between them. But as one's acquaintance with palms
widens he finds them to be very like other organisms in their similari-
ties and dissimilarities.

The Palm Trunk. — Palms vary enormously in size, shape, habit and
habitat. The largest are the royal palms which reach a height of
nearly two hundred feet with a perfectly straight, smooth and
symmetrically tapering trunk over a meter in diameter at the base.
The smallest are the Geonomas and certain species of Bactris, slender
delicate plants but little more than a meter in height, with a trunk
not larger than an ordinary lead pencil. Still others have no trunks at
all above the ground, but the leaves and fruits rise from a short stock
concealed beneath the soil very like a bulb.

The jacitdra (Desmoncus) has a trunk the size of a man's finger and
a length of a hundred feet or more, a form that is unable to stand
erect, but sprawls or clambers over other plants like a vine. Some

* Coco, not cocoa, is the correct form of this word.

THE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

389

palm trunks are smooth while others are thickly covered with repulsive
spines often of enormous size, and still others are clothed with mats
of long tough fiber resembling masses of tangled and broken twine.

Certain species have trunks of uneven size, swollen here or there.
These bellied palms, as they are called in Brazil, usually have the swollen
part at some fixed place in the trunk. This is true of the paxiuha
barrigiida (Iriartea ventricosa) and of the Acrocomia, but at Assuncion,
Paraguay, I found the swollen portions of the trunk of a palm locally
called Bocadja now near the base and now near the summit and
another time near the middle. Some palm trunks are as smooth as if
tooled, others, like the coco, are more or less ribbed. These ribs run
round the trunk, and on some trees they are so close together that the
whole trunk is notched with them. The ribs are really only leaf scars.

Fig. 2. A Trunkless Palm (Astrocaryum humilis C); Fkuit Natural Size.

and on some species they are so far apart that the stems appear to be
jointed like a bamboo. The ribbed trunks and smooth trunks, how-
ever, are noticeable only on palms that shed their fronds freely after
they mature. In some cases the petiole breaks ofE two or three feet from
the trunk, leaving it bristling with the jagged stumps of the petioles.
In the accompanying illustration of the jupaty it will be seen that
both conditions sometimes prevail with the same species.

Some trunks are thickly covered with spines. These spines vary in
size from a few millimeters to half a meter in length. They seldom
grow on the leaf scars, but usually cover the spaces between them.

Palm trunks may be either straight or crooked, but the habit of a
species in this respect is pretty constant. For instance, the royal palm

39°

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

always has a straight trunk;
the clambering species never
have the trunk straight, and
the full-grown coco palms have
the trunk somewhat crooked.
A singularity of the growth of
palm trunks is that, with the
exception of the 'bellied'
trunks, they attain their full
diameter while quite young —
before, indeed, they set out to
grow upwards. In other words,
a palm grows endwise, as it
were, but does not grow in
diameter like the exogenous
plants. It is therefore neces-
sary that a palm should start
on a broad base if it is to reach
great height and great size.
For this reason many of them
when young look as if their
fronds were growing from the
top of a gigantic turnip-like
stock. In some species as a
trunk grows older it constantly
strengthens its foundations by
putting out rootlets just above
the uppermost ones, very much
like those starting from the
lower joints of a cornstalk, and
these roots continue to put
forth until a compact and exceedingly tough support is built up about
the trunk. In the pa^iulja palm this buttress is one of the strange
sights of the vegetable world.

f- C^ '/ ( i

Fig. 7 shows the remark-
able rooting of the paxiuha
(Iriartia exorrhiga). At the
lower left side of the plate the
details of one of these trunks
are shown. These palms seem
literally to be off the earth, for
the trunk proper can scarcely
be said to touch it. The figure
in the upper left hand corner
shows how the young paxiuha gets its start

Fig. 3.

Iriariea ventricosa, a Bellied Palm (Af-
ter Wallace).

Fig. 4. Variations in the Form of the Trunk of
Bocadja, Asuncion, Paraguay.

THE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

391

\\\M<... ' ""S;

\\\

/i>

2^/.

Fig. 5. The Spiny
Trunk of a Bactris.

After the nut sprouts from the ground a rootlet starts from the
young trunk a few inches above the soil and grows downward to the
earth; then another and another starts out a little higher up, each
growing down into the ground. As the tree increases
in size these roots continue to grow outward and
downward always at an angle that will most effect-
ively brace the trunk. I have seen the roots starting
from the trunk seven and a half feet from the ground.
Structure of the TrunJc. — The structure of the
palm trunk is always the same in that it is made of j^C"
fibro-vascular or horny bundles and parench}Tna or
pith; as a rule, too, the horny bundles are grouped
together near the surface of the trunk, while the cen-
tral portion holds most of the pith. Seen in cross-
section the palm trunk is very like the stalk of the
Indian corn. There is, however, a marked variation
among palms in the direction of these bundles through
the stems, for in some they ascend the trunk in a vertical plane while in
others they take a spiral direction, not keeping parallel with each other
but crossing one another in a bewildering maze. As these hard bundles
are what give strength and resistance to the palm trunk, it will be seen
that the possibility of splitting some of the trunks must depend upon
the direction of the fibro-vascular bundles. In the Iriartia or paxiuha
the fibro-vascular bundles lie in a vertical plane and are parallel, so that
a section of the trunk of this palm splits with ease, and for this reason
it is extensively used for umbrella handles, walking canes and such
like purposes. Some of the palm woods admit of a beautiful polish,

and, in these cases, the winding
directions of the bundles cause
them to be cut off at various
angles and render the orna-
mental pieces made of them
very beautiful. The fibro-
vascular bundles vary greatly
in color in the different palm
trunks, some of them being
nearly white, others amber-
colored, others black and still
others dark brown; most of
them have a waxy, horn-like luster, and all of them are, when mature,
exceedingly hard.

The purely mechanical office which these fibro-vascular bundles
perform is necessarily of the utmost importance in giving character
and form to the trunk. They extend also from the tnmks out into

Fig. 6. The Roots of an Ordinary Palm.

392

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Fig. 7. Iriartea exorrhiza, Amazonas.

THE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

393

the fronds to their very tips. When the size of the leaves of some of
the Amazonian palms is recalled — as large as a man can carry — ^it
will be recognized that these bundles must be very strong.

The fibro-vascular bundles pass out from the palm
trunk into the fronds. In Gray's text-book of botany
a short longitudinal section of a palm trunk is shown,
in which these bundles are represented as coming to
the surface very much at random. As a matter of
fact they reach the surface only at the leaf scars.*

The most important use to which palm trunks are fig. 8. Cross section
put is probably the manufacture of rattan or 'cane' °'' ^ ^^^^ ^^^^^

r r J SHOWING THE USUAL

used to bottom chairs. The rattan palm (Calamus) arrangement of the
does not grow in Brazil, but the Jacitara and Urum- fibro-vascular bun-

c' ' DLES.

bc4mba (Desmoncus) are palms of similar habits,

though they do not seem to lend themselves to
this sort of use as readily as the Calamus.

Foliage. — The foliage of the trunked palm,
unlike that of most plants, is all at the summit
of the single stem.f

The fronds of most of them form a compact
s\Tnmetrical cluster, but there is one kind of
hacdba (Oenocarpus distichus) that has its
fronds arranged in a single plane like a gigantic
open fan.

The gracefulness of palms is mostly due to
the symmetry of the plants combined with the
flexibility of the fronds and leaflets. In the
length and size of their leaves many of the palms
surpass all other forms of vegetation. In detail
the foliage varies quite as much as do the trunks.
The palmate leaf from which the 'palm leaf fans'
are made is familiar to every one. Some of the
palmate leaves, however, reach an almost in-
credible size. The great murity of the Amazonas
region often has its palmate leaves so large that
a man, unaided, cannot lift a single leaf. The
palmate leaves are entire, as a rule, but there is
at least one species that has the leaf deeply bifid
or split down the middle into two equal parts.

Fig. 9. Section of a
Palm Trunk showing the
Relation of the Fibro-
vascular Bundles to the
Frond Basks.

* Tlie course and growth of the fibro-vascular bundles in palms. 'Proe. Am.
Phil. Sec.,' 1884, XXI., 459-483.

t The branching doom palm of Africa (Hypliaene thebaicaj is the only ex-
ception to this rule. There is an Areca that forks near the base, and the date
palm puts out shoots at or near the base of the trunk.

394

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The ubussd (Manicaria saccifera) of the lower Amazons has a kind of
frond found, I believe, in no other palm; its leaf in general owX-
line is like that of a pinnate leaf — say like that of the coco or
date palm — ^but, instead of being divided, like the pinnate frond,
it is entire.

Most of the palms have the pinnate or feather-like leaves. There
might seem to be but little opportunity for variation in such fronds,
but the variation is really very great, although at first sight it is not
striking. Perhaps the largest of the pinnate fronds are those of the

Fig. 10. (Eiiocarpus di.itichus, a Fan-shaped Palm of the Lower Amazons.

jupaty (Baphia tcedigera (Fig. 11) which often have a length of 45
feet. It might not appeal to one but little familiar with palms, but it is
a fact that the attitudes of the fronds and leaflets of a palm tree are
thoroughly characteristic. The accompanying diagram (Fig 12) will
give an idea of what is meant. The frond of a given species has a cer-
tain habit of hanging, and that habit is constant and characteristic
of the species. There may be — there always is — some difference of
attitude between the young leaves and the old ones, but even these
differences are constant. Occasionally, however, one may be a little
puzzled at the attitude of the fronds of a palm growing under unusual

TEE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

395

Fig. 11. Raphia icedigera, the Jupaty of the Lower Amazons.

396 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

conditions so that the whole plant is dwarfed.* The above remarks apply
to a frond or rather to the midrib of a palm when looked at in cross-
section. When considered in cross-section the plumose fronds vary in
a striking manner. The leaflets are arranged upon the midrib so that
they may be in two rows or in four or six or more rows — half on one

Fig. 12. Diagrammatic Representation of the Positions'of Palm Fronds, half of the

Head being shown.

side and half on the opposite side of the petiole. Seen in cross-section
these latter take on one of the forms shown in the following diagram or
one of many other combinations. These differences between fronds de-
pend to a great extent on the manner in which the leaflets are attached
to the midrib. For example, the leaflets may lie in a single plane
growing straight out from the opposite sides of the midrib or they may
lie in two, four, six or eight planes that meet along the midrib.

Fig. 13. Diagrams of Cross-sections of Palm Fronds, showing the ARRANGEiiENT of the

Leaflets.

The fronds have, in addition to these peculiarities, certain habits
due to the shapes of the midrib. A midrib that is broad at the base
and continues relatively broad to the end is compelled to remain, as to
cross-section, in a horizontal position; but if a midrib is broad at the
base and gets rapidly narrower toward the end it cannot maintain itself
in a horizontal position, but twists a fourth of the way round and at
the end lies on edge. Sometimes this twisting goes to such an extent
that the frond is quite inverted. The cross-sections of the midribs of
palm fronds are characteristics to which but little attention seems to
have been given by botanists.

Every palm leaf begins its life at the apex of the trunk — the newest

* Since observing this peculiarity of palm fronds, I have frequently seen
something of the same kind in the great 'deadenings' of the South and South-
west. Many species of trees arc readily recognized at a distance by the atti-
tudes of the dead and broken limbs: the limbs of the black oak stand up
nearly straight; those of the black-jack hang down and curl under, while
those of the post oak are full of 'elbows.'

TEE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

397

Fig. 14. UrumbAmba of the Uppee Paraguay— ZJesmoncaa cuyabaensis Barb. Rod.

398 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and uppermost of all the leaves — and ends its life as the lowest in the
cluster. The shape and size of the cluster of leaves vary somewhat
with the age of the tree, but some species differ greatly from others in
this respect. Species like the assai, the palmito and the royal palm
have long petioles folding completely around the trunk, and shed the
lowest leaves as fast as these leaves pass maturity. The clusters of
fronds upon palms of this kind are always fresh looking, for they never
have dead fronds dangling against their trunks. (See Fig. 1.) Cer-
tain other species have the habit of retaining the dead or half-dead
fronds for a certain length of time, and these fronds, as they get older,
bend downward more and more until they lie against the trunk of the
tree. Such palms have nearly round clusters of fronds. The great
forests of carnauba or carandd palms along the Paraguay river look
like forests of gigantic clover blossoms growing on straight stems.

The fronds of palms are extensively used by the lower classes in
the tropical parts of South America for thatching their houses. Along
the seashores, where the coco palms are grown, the leaves are cut as
regularly as the nuts, and are used for covering the roofs and often
for making the walls of the humble homes of the fishermen. In the
Amazonas valley the entire leaves of the ubussu are best adapted to
thatching; for this purpose they are frequently carried a hundred
miles or more in canoes.

The young leaflets of palms are widely used in the manufacture of
certain kinds of cheap straw hats. The leaflets of the tucum palm
yield an excellent fiber — one of the strongest known.

On account of certain peculiarities of its leaves I may here men-
tion the jacitara (Desmoncus), the long, slender, clambering or
sprawling palm already spoken of. The jacitara is not precisely a
climbing palm but it comes as near to it as a palm can come. Its full-
grown stem is hardly larger than a lead pencil but it reaches a length
of a hundred feet or more, and it is therefore impossible for it to stand
upright. Shortly after it starts from the ground it topples over
and rests against whatever happens to be at hand. It has no
tendrils and does not wind about its supports, but the structure and
habits of its fronds contribute effectively to its ability to support itself
against or upon its neighbors.

The accompanying illustration (Fig. 14) shows the growing end
of one of these clambering palms, and beside it is shown the structure
of the tips of the fronds. The recurved hooks at the frond tip are
quite stiff and are fastened to the midrib with thickened inflexible
joints. In the unopened or embryonic fronds the leaflets all point
forward toward the tip or external end of the leaf. At the end of
these undeveloped leaves are three or four pairs of leaflets, which, like
all the rest, point forward. When the frond unfolds, the terminal

THE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

399

pairs of leaflets, instead of developing as leaflets, turn gradually back-
ward, thicken and stiffen at the base and thus form three or four
pairs of hooks by which the plant is drawn slightly forward and sup-
ported by whatever other plant these hooks happen to seize.

Jacitdra bears bunches of small nuts about the size of ordinary
grapes, but, so far as I know, they are not utilized. The trunks are
used in some parts of South America as withes for binding together
the poles of wliich fences and some houses are built, and likewise for
chair bottoms and baskets. When the jacitdra grows in the deep dark
forests, its trunk reaches a great length. In the
southern part of the State of Bahia it grows upon _^'\^

open prairies where it has to depend upon itself for
support. Here it grows in thick clusters, and does
not reach a length of more than ten or fifteen feet.

Palm Fibers. — One of the most useful products
of palms is their fiber. In his excellent work on
fiber-producing plants Mr. Dodge mentions fifty-six
palms that yield valuable fibers.* ]\Iost of the fibers
furnished by palms come from growths along the
sides of the petioles near their bases, where they look
like frazzled edges of burlap or some other coarse
cloth. These fibers, however, are produced in quan-
tity by certain species only.

The most remarkable of the fiber-producers is \^r

the piassdha palm (Leopoldina) of which there are
two species — one grows on the dark water tributaries
of Eio Kegro in the Amazon valley, the other grows
not far from the seacoast north of the city of Bahia
and also in the interior of the southern part of the
State of Bahia and in Minas. At both places the
piassdha fiber is an important article of commerce,
with the fluffy mass of dark-brown fiber is a remarkable sight. The
fibers are sometimes from ten to fifteen feet in length and look like
very coarse hair or a tangled mass of brown twine, streaming down
the trunk of the tree.

After being cut these fibers have to be dried and baled, they are
then shipped to Europe and to the United States, where they are ex-
tensively used under the name of 'bast' for the manufacture of small
baskets, stiff brushes, street brooms and foot-wipers. In the Amazonas
valley they are used for making large cables which have the virtue of

\1 \

^ 1

Fig. 15. A PiassAba
Frond with its Fi-
bers.

A palm draped

• 'A Descriptive Catalogue of Useful Fiber Plants of the World.' By Chas.
R. Dodge. Report 9, U. S. Department of Agriculture, Washington, 1897,
p. 256.

400

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

floating on the water. The hard stony nut of the Bahia piassdba is
used for the manufacture of buttons.

The stiff parts of the fibers of some palms are used by the native
Indians to make combs. The tucum is much used along the coast in
the manufacture of fishing nets and fishing lines. It is extracted by
scraping away the fleshy part of the leaflet with a dull knife. The
tucum palms are abundant in the Amazonas valley and in the forest-

'crocoTnca.

Fig. 16. E.xAMPLEs OF Palm Nuts ; Natural Sizes.

covered parts of Brazil as far south as the State of Espirito Santo, and
possibly further. The abundance of the plants and the remarkable
strength of the fiber seem to make it possible to turn the plant to more
extensive use.

Flowers. — The flowers of palm trees are very short-lived, and are
therefore not available for ornamental purposes. A newly-opened
spathe, however, especially of the large trees, is an impressive sight. I
have never observed any marked odors about the flowers of palms, but

THE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

401

the swarms of bees about some of the opening spathes sug-
gest that some of them have agreeable odors. Kerchove de Den-
terghem in his book on palms states that some of the flowers have very
pleasant odors toward evening and morning and cites four South
American genera as odoriferous.* The spathes or envelopes that enclose
the flowers of certain palms are not without interest and utility to
mankind. For the most part these flower sheaths are thin woody
envelopes that split as the flowers open and either fall off or curl up at
the bases of the fronds. They are not all so inconspicuous, however.
That of the Maximiliana regia is so large and hard and of such a
shape that it is used occasionally for baby cradles. This spathe is
often four feet long by two feet wide and has a thickness of an inch or

Fig. 17. Palm Nuts. The Asteocaryum is One Fourth the Natural Size; the Bactris is

Natural Size.

more. The spathe of the uhussu is perhaps the most remarkable
grown on any palm tree. It will be referred to again.

Fruits. — The fruits or nuts of the palms are usually rather small,
but they range in size from that of the coco nut, which is perhaps the
largest, down to the size of a small pea. Some of them have hard
fibrous coatings, others are covered with a soft edible pulp; some of
them are covered with short coarse hairs, some with spines, some with
imbricated, reversed scales ; some are fuzzy like a peach and still others
are smooth like a plum; some of the clusters contain only two or three
small nuts, while others form gigantic grape-like bunches larger than
a single person could lift.

These fruits are extensively utilized for food both for man and for
the lower animals: sometimes it is an external pulp that is eaten,
sometimes it is the kernel; sometimes the pulp is used directly, often
it is made into a beverage. Some of the fruits have a sweet pulp, but
not a few have a pleasant subacid flavor, and several kinds are used
to make vinegar.

*'Les Palmiers; historie iconographique.' Par Oswald de Kerchove de
Denterghem, Paris, 1878, p. 213.

VOL. LX. — 26.

402

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Fig. 18. The Assai Palm, Euterpe oleracea.

TEE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

403

•

^'^^A.,

^^

rxji

Fig. 19. The Mirity ^ KU,i—Mauritia flezuosa of the Amazons.

404

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The fruits of palms with which people of the temperate regions
are best acquainted are dates and coco nuts. But these particular
fruits are known chiefly because, besides being available as fruits, they
are capable of being transported long distances and of being readily
kept for a long time without danger of decay. In their native tropical
countries many other palms yield valuable fruits but they do not, as
a rule, admit of transportation or delay in using.

In the Amazonas valley especially, the inhabitants make a delight-
ful beverage, known as assai, from the fruit of the assai palm (Euterpe
oleracea). A stranger visiting the market in Para for the first time
is impressed by the quantities of this thick, purple, chocolate-like
fluid on sale. In appearance it is rather repulsive at first, but it im-
proves greatly upon acquaintance. From the fruit of the haccdha palm
is made a beverage very like that of the assai. A similar drink, but
of a milky color, is made of the fruit of the piassdha on the upper Rio

Fig. 20. The Nut of a Palm used for Jewelry.

aSTegro. A drink is make from the mirity * palm in quite a different
manner : the tree is cut down and a hole cut in the upper side of the
prostrate trunk. This opening soon fills with a nearly transparent
liquid very like the milk of the coco nut. When allowed to stand and
ferment this makes the murity wine — an intoxicating beverage.
Along the coast south of Pernambuco, and especially in the State of
Bahia, is a palm, known as the dende, the pulp of whose fruit is used
in making oil that is extensively used in cooking. This oil has a
bright orange color and is prepared by bruising the pulp of the nuts,
putting it in cold water and skimming off the oil as it rises to the
surface, after which it is boiled down. Illuminating oil is likewise
made from the kernel of the dende nuts.

Many of the palm nuts are covered by edible pulp. Several species
of Bactris bear fruits the size of a walnut whose acid pulp is very
pleasant when ripe. In the Amazonas valley is a palm known as the

* This palm, the Mauritia vinifera, is called mirity and murity in the
Amazonas region, but further south it is called burity; in the Paraguay valley
region it is called mburity.

THE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

405

#

PW^k

iiiih,,

M

ii«f,«w

^i^

im^

a

,...».. m^^^iB'^'-^'^'

.,ft;i...,«'

T^-^

Fig. 21. The Urucury (Attalea ezcelsa) Whose Nuts are used for smoking Rubber.

V 5

€

4o6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

peach palm on account of its pulpy fruit. In the highlands of Brazil
a small palm, a species of coco, known as the 'chifre do bof or
'oxhorn' has a nut about the size and shape of a nutmeg. There is
but little hull or flesh on the outside of it, but it is thick, black and
very hard — almost impossible to crack. These pits are utilized by
jewelers to make brooches, pendants and such like ornaments. For
these purposes they are carved into attractive shapes, usually flower-
like, mounted in gold and set with diamonds. The jewelers of
Diamantina, in the State of Minas Geraes, are very skilful in the
manufacture of this kind of jewelry.

Urucury Nuts. — One of the most peculiar uses

// / to which a plant fruit is put is in the preparation

of rubber in the valley of the Amazonas. It is the

•5\ nut of a particular species that is used for this

purpose — that of the urucury (Attalea excelsa).*

^ ^{f -> X When the milk of the rubber tree is gathered it is

CL^ ) " / °^ ^^® consistency of thick cream. It is prepared

U ' // for the market by being dried in the smoke of a

^ fire made of the nuts of the urucury palm. A flat

paddle-shaped board is wet in the milk and then

held over the smoke as it issues from the top of a

,^>^^-^^~-^ chimney-pot-like tile a foot or so in height, resting

j^.'^^|^|S^^ upon stones and with the fire built beneath it.

''^^^^i^^'=^ The nuts of this palm are often carried long dis-
FiG. 22. Nuts of the tances f or this rubber smoking.
s::Z'o^Z7.. ^'^ Many of the palm nuts yield rich oUs, and

these are used to a greater or less extent, especially
in the interior, in cooking, in the manufacture of soap and for illumi-
nating purposes.

Special Gases. — The carnauba palm (Copernicia cerifera. Mart.)
grows naturally on the marshy uplands of northeastern Brazil, where
it is put to many uses by the natives. The trunk is split for rafters,
posts and fences; the leaves are used for food for cattle, for thatch,
for cordage and for hats; the fruits and the growing bud are eaten;
the roots are used for medicinal purposes, and from the leaves is pre-
pared a yellowish wax that is used for candles, f The same palm is
abundant through the Gran Chaco region of the Eio Paraguay, where
it forms immense open forests that stretch as far as the eye can

* The nut of this palm is about the size of a man's fist, dry and without
a pulpy covering, and the shell is very thick and hard. Whether there is a
real virtue in the smoke of the urucury nuts, I do not know; the rubber gather-
ers insist that smoke made by other palm nuts or with wood will not answer
the purpose.

t 'Notice sur le palmier carnadba.' Par M. A. de Macedo. Paris, 1867.

TEE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

407

reach across the vast marshy meadows. In that part of the continent
it is not so extensively used,* but it is nevertheless one of the chief
building timbers of that region, and its fruits are eaten by the natives,
the tender phylophore is eaten as a vegetable, while the leaves are used
for thatch, for fans, straw hats and cordage. This carnauba, or caranda,
ac it is called in the upper Paraguay region, is one of a few social
palms.

1 4 ^ UoJmII^:^

lH^lt^!^'*^

Fig. 23. Carnauba Paljis on the Paeaguay Rivek.

The Coco. — The coco palm (or cocoa as we erroneously call it) is
not a native of South America, but it is extensively grown, especially
along the sandy seashore from Caravellas, Bahia, northward. From
Caravellas to the mouth of the Amazon, a distance of about two
thousand miles, probably half the way the beach is flat and sandy and
is actually used for growing coco palms. And it is worthy of note
that these sandy beaches are of little or no value for other agricultural
purposes. Almost everywhere these coco-palm groves are thickly
though not conspicuously inhabited. The villages and even towns of
considerable size that spring up in the groves are made up for the
most part of people of the poorer classes who pass here an ideal
tropical life. The posts and lath of the houses are made of the palm
trunks, the roofs are made of the leaves, their food and drink are taken
from the inside coco shells; the nuts are eaten green and ripe in a

* Herbert H. Smith thinks this palm different from the carnaliba of CearS
('Do Rio de Janeiro a Cuyaba,' p. 366), but Barbosa Rodriguez, the Brazilian
botanist, says they are the same ('Palmae mattogrossenses,' p. 1). Morong
reports the Copernicia cerifera and describes two new species from Paraguay.
'Ann. N. Y. Acad. Sci.,' VII., 245-247.

4o8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

great variety of dishes, oil is made from them, the outside hulls are used
for scouring and for fiber utilized in many ways, the bases of the
fronds and the hulls are used for firewood, the trunks are used for
skids for drawing their jangadas from the water, and the leaves are
used for thatching the houses and for torches at night.

One of the Brazilian methods of using the coco nut in cooking is
well worthy the attention of caterers. I refer to the use of the ripe nut
in preparing codfish d la creme. To make this dish the codfish is pre-
pared in the usual way, except that the juice of the coco nut is used
to fiavor it. The ripe nut is grated on a piece of rough tin made like
a large nutmeg grater; the milk is then squeezed from the grated nut,
the dry fibrous material is rejected and the white rich milk is poured
in the cooking fish, furnishing both the oil and a delicious flavor for
the dish.

It is somewhat remarkable that 'coprah,' the dried kernel of the
coco, is not prepared in Brazil. The reason probably is that there
has always been a home market for the nuts.

The young coco trees begin to bear when six or seven years old and
yield fruits for more than eighty years. It is said that a coco palm
yields more than two hundred nuts a year * — a statement which I feel
obliged to accept with allowances.

In speaking of the foods furnished by the palm, I am reminded to
mention an instance where a portion of the trunk is thus used. One
palmetto is known in English as the 'cabbage palm' because the tender
phylophore, or growing end of the trunk, is extensively eaten in Brazil
as a vegetable, very much as cabbage is eaten. In the forests near the
large cities these palmettos have been almost destroyed owing to the
demand for them in the vegetable markets. I am of the opinion that
many of the palms could be utilized in the same manner, and it may
be that they are so used among the native aboriginal races. The using
of these stems for food is open to the evident objection that once the
growing bud is cut off the tree is destroyed.

The Uhussu. — One of the strangest palms in the world is what is
known in the Amazonas valley as the uhussu, the Manicaria saccifera of
botanists. This palm is one of a few having an entire leaf.

Every one is familiar with the fact that the leaves or fronds of
palms are, in general, either palmate or pinnate. Our common Florida
palms, for instance, have the fronds palmate or radiating from the
outer end of a petiole; in the pinnate fronds there is a long midrib or
petiole running the length of the frond and along two sides of this the
leaflets are arranged.

* '0 Coqueiro da India.' Pelo Dr. J. M. da Silva Continho, Rio de Janeiro,
1889, p. 2.

THE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

409

Fig. 24. Ubussii {Mriniea

iearia sacci/era) of the Lower AiiAZONS.

4IO POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Now the fronds of the uhussu palm are not like either of these,
but stand out from the trunk and behave in every way like pinnate
fronds except that instead of being pinnate they are entire. The wind
often whips these leaves in pieces, until they bear some resemblance to
the pinnate fronds.

It is an interesting fact that those palms whose fronds are pinnate
at maturity have their first fronds entire. The coco palms, for
instance, have pinnate fronds, but when a young coco palm is sprouted
its first leaves are entire like those of the uhussu; so far as I can now
recall them, the same thing is true of all other palms having pinnate
leaves. With the uhussu this embryonic character has persisted into
maturity. It is this undivided leaf that is so extensively sought and
used for thatching houses. Besides being entire the uhussu leaves are
said to last for ten years as thatch.

Another interesting and peculiar character of the uhussu palm ia
its spathe or flower sheath. Some of the palms have the spathes so
hard and woody that they are as stiff as if they were made of inch
boards; others have them rather leathery, and after the flowers open
the spathes shrivel up more or less or hang among the fruits and
flowers like rolls of brown or black cardboard. The spathe of the
uhussu is a slender, sharp-pointed and open-textured net or sack, not
unlike a piece of burlap. In most palms the spathe yields but little,
and when the flowers are ready to open it splits lengthwise and the
flowers push out through the rent. The spathe of the uhussu cannot
be split lengthwise; its fibers are tough and cloth-like and cross each
other at low angles, and as the cluster of flowers expands the spathe
stretches. In time, the fibers, on account of the great amount of
moisture within, decay, and the growing flowers or fruits tear the
spathe asunder, and it drops off in ragged fragments. The uhussu
spathe is utilized to some extent by the natives of the Amazonas valley.
It requires, however, to be cut before the flowers have expanded much.
It is simply cut off at the stem and is drawn from over the bunch of
flowers as one pulls off a close-fltting undershirt by stripping it over
his head.

The cloth of this spathe is capable of a great deal of stretching if
care is taken to distribute the expansion evenly. This stretching can
best be done by wetting the spathe, putting the hands inside the sack
and gently forcing them apart. Sacks that are not more than an inch
or two across may thus be expanded to a diameter of one or two feet.
One may frequently see a suit of clothes for a small boy made of one
of these spathes. This is done by cutting off the pointed outer end of
the spathe and cutting two holes in opposite sides near one end.

A picturesque and fairly comfortable hat can be made by pushing
one end of the uhussu sack inside, pulling it over the head and turning

THE PALM TREES OF BRAZIL.

411

up the lower end for the rim. Hat manufacturers have occasionally
utilized these spathes by pressing them into the shape of an ordinary
straw hat and stiffening, binding and lining them. The chocolate-
brown color and their lightness make them attractive.

The poor people of the forest regions of the lower Amazonas use
this spathe also for bags and reticules, in which small articles may be
tied up and hung from the roofs of their buildings. When one is in
the forest and chances to need a receptacle in which to carry small
articles, fruits, nuts or something of the kind, the spathe of the uhussu
offers a homely but efficient help.

Fig. 25. NcTS of the Ubussu [Manicaria sacci/era), eedvced one half tiametee.

In general appearance the nuts of the ubussu palm are unlike those
of any other palm; the outside coat is rough and brittle like a walnut
hull, while the nut is almost as smooth as a horse-chestnut. The green
nuts contain a potable milky fluid very like the milk of a green coco
nut. The taste of the cut hull, however, is bitter. It is worthy of
note that the nuts of this palm float in the water (most palm nuts are
too heavy) and large quantities of them are swept down the Amazon
and out to sea. They are said to be carried to the West India Islands
(where they are known as 'sea apples' or 'sea coco-nuts'), and even to
the northwest islands of Scotland.*

I have spoken here of a few of the characteristic features of a very
few of the Brazilian palms, but it is not improbable that our so-called
practical turn of mind may lead some of us to ask whether the palma
of economic importance cannot be grown in some parts of the United

'Nature,' Nov. 21, 1895, LIII., 64.

412 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

States, not to speak of recent annexations. I am much disposed to
think so. The U. S. Department of Agriculture has, with commend-
able enterprise, recently undertaken the introduction of date palms
into Arizona and California,* and there can scarcely be any doubt
of the ultimate success of the effort. There are many other palms
that will thrive in a climate where dates can be grown.

Literature. — For the benefit of those who may wish further and
more detailed information regarding palms a list of the most im-
portant works on the subject is appended; a few other titles are men-
tioned in the foot-notes.

1. Voyage dans I'Am^rique m^ridionale, etc., Par Aleide D'Orbigny, Tome
septifeme, 3e partie. Palmiers. Descriptio palmarum in Paragueria et Bolivia
crescentium . . . schedulas et incones digesit. Car. Fr. Ph. De Mar-
tins, pp. 140 and atlas of colored plates. Paris et Strasbourg, 1847.

2. Historia naturalis palmarum. Auctor C. F. P. de Martius. 3 vols,
folio. Leipzig, n. d.

3. Palms of British East India. By William Griffith. Calcutta, 1850, folio.

4. Palm Trees of the Amazon and their Uses. By Alfred R. Wallace. 48
plates, 129 pp., London, 1853.

5. Popular History of the Palms and their Allies. By Berthold Seeman.
xvi + 359, III., London, 1856.

6. Palmae mattogrossenses novae vel minas cognitse quas collegit descripsit
et iconibus illustravit. J. Barbosa Rodriguez, xx + 92, 27 plates. Rio de
Janeiro, 1898.

7. Palmae novae Paraguayenses quas descripsit et iconibus illustravit J.
Barbosa Rodriguez, ix + 66, 6 plates, Rio de Janeiro, 1899.

8. Flora Brasiliensis. Fasciculus 55, Palmae. Exposuit Oscar Drude.
Lipsiae, 1881.

9. Palmae Amazonicae sive enumeratio palmarum in itinere suo per regionea
Americae aequetoriales lectarum. Auctor Ricardo Spruce. Read Jan. 21, 1869.
Proc. Linn. Society, XL, 65, 183.

10. New Palms collected in the Amazon valley in 1874. By James W. H.
Trail. 'Journal of Botany,' Nov. and Dec, 1876, Jan., Feb. and Mar., 1877.

11. The origin and distribution of the cocoa palm. By O. F. Cook. Con-
tributions from the U. S. Nat. Herbarium. Vol. VII., pp. 257-293. Washing-
ton, 1901.

^ P .

♦ 'The Date Palm and its Culture.' By Walter T. Swingle. Yearbook of
the U. S. Department of Agriculture for 1900, pages 453-490. Washington, 1901.

WOBK AND REST: GENIUS AND STUPIDITY. 413

WOEK AND EEST: GENIUS AND STUPIDITY.

By ALEXANDER FRANCIS CHAMBERLAIN, PH.D.,
CLARK UNIVERSITY, WORCESTER, MASS.

OLDEE far than the Tennysonian line, ' Better fifty years of
Europe than a cycle of Cathay/ is the Chinese proverb, ' One day
is as good as three,' i. e., if you know how and when to do the thing
necessary. Scott has given the warrior's version :

One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.

Pope speaks for the statesman :

One self-approving hour whole years outweighs
Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas.

Through the Mohammedan saying the goddess Artemis expresses her-
self, ' One hour in the execution of justice is worth seventy years of
prayer.' The faith of the religious votary is voiced by the Hebrew
psalmist, 'A day in Thy courts is better than a thousand.' The folk and
the poet, the two anticipators of science, have in all ages seen the ac-
complishments of great things in brief periods of intense activity.
There is an aristocracy of the moment, as well as of blood or brain.

It is an interesting subject for inquiry how far the history of the
individual and of the race justifies the belief that one day is as good
as three, one hour outweighs whole years. In this brief paper, no ex-
haustive study can be entered upon, and the intention is simply to out-
line a theory based upon the phenomena thus recognized, and to defend
the view that intense activity for comparatively brief periods alternat-
ing with longer periods of greater or less quiescence is, whatever
incidents of environment, artificialities of civilization, exaggerated
sex influences, etc., have at times interfered to disturb it, the normal
phenomenon of work in so far as it is best and most genially produc-
tive and profitable racially and individually.

The Animal. — From the earliest times some of the lower animals
have passed for models of industry, others as examples of utter sloth
and idleness. But we may be sure that man has read into his observa-
tions of animal activity a good deal of his own passing reflections, for
exact scientific investigation hardly justifies some of his familiar
sayings. Young animals (kittens, for example) do not play so many
hours of their day as is commonly supposed, and the busy bee is far

414 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

from 'improving' each 'shining hour.' The rest of young animals
and children is quite as characteristic as their work or play. And we
must be careful not to derive too much of our evidence from captive
animals and restrained or metamorphosed children. We lack, too,
authoritative delimitations of the periods of activity and of rest of
animals. Groos,* in his discussion of the play of animals, has little
to say on this question other than the remark : " Of children and young
animals it is true that, except when they are eating, they play all day,
till at night, tired out with play, they sink to sleep." But there are
night-animals, and to a certain extent, night-men, for the evening
activities of the kitten, e. g., are often paralleled completely by those
of her young mistress.

Of the lowest stages of animal life practically continuous activity
has been asserted. Dr. Hodge and Dr. Aikins,* in their study of
' The Daily Life of a Protozoan,' observe : " A Vorticella works con-
tinuously, and shows in its life no period of inactivity or rest corre-
sponding to periods of rest in higher animals. In other words, a
Vorticella never sleeps." But this is only under absolutely favorable
conditions of life, for the same authors, a little further on speak of a
stage of rest or encystment : " Encystment is, therefore, of the nature
of an enforced ' rest,' a period of inactivity imposed by exceptional
external circumstances."

As we go up the scale noticeable activity and inactivity increase in
their rhythmic alternations. The fishes and lower vertebrates sleep
periodically, and alternate their rest and exertion. Professor McGee
characterizes the intensified activity with long intervals of inertness
exemplified by the Seri Indians as ' simulating the habits of carnivorous
and other lower animals.' The life history of the lion and the tiger,
the elephant and the camel, the horse and the buffalo, to say nothing of
other and smaller animals, furnishes us with much evidence in point.
The anthropoids also, though not at all studied with reference to this
theory, may afford a valuable quota of proof.

With many animals hibernation, and with many others aestivation,
occupies a considerable portion of their lives, the length and broken
or unbroken character of the ' sleeps ' or ' rests ' depending to some
extent upon climate, species, individuality. How far these ' sleeps '
interfere with or improve the physical and mental faculties of such
animals during their season of real activity is not altogether clear,
but since hibernation and aestivation must at one time have been factors
in the survival of the fittest, they cannot have worked entirely to the
detriment of the creatures concerned, even in later days. And the
same may be said of the ' winter-sleep ' of the Eussian peasants.

*'The Play of Animals.' Transl. by E. Baldwin (N. Y., 1898), p. 20.
* Amer. Journ. of Psychol, Vol. VI. (1895), p. 530.

^yORK AND REST: GENIUS AND STUPIDITY. 415

The Child. — It is a fact of immemorial knowledge that the child
at play, in some respects nearest the animal, in others the most typical
representative of our human race, takes especial delight in continuing
his activity to the uttermost extreme of exhaustion. This is true like-
wise of intellectual pleasures in that early age when the little child
has not been subdued by the pedagogues; we see both in his first at-
tempts to speak and to listen, and often in his imitation of his elders,
the same genial exertion till weariness induces rest. Groos,* in his
' Play of Man,' discusses this feature of early childhood, pointing out,
moreover, that, before the school places its ban upon the child, ' his
life, apart from feeding and sleeping, is spent almost wholly in play-
activities.' Play-time remains for years the absorbing, genial period
of his existence. And in its acmes of intensity he exhausts himself
corporeally and mentally. Some say it is ' complete absorption into
the genius of the present,' others that it is ' genial repetition of self,'
or 'delighted remanipulation of the right combination happily stumbled
upon.' Whatever it may be, enough is revealed to make it certain that
a sort of inspiration so works upon children as to make them tend to use
their powers of mind and body intensely to the furthest possible limit,
t. e., of course, when they are moved so to do, and not interfered with
by things alien to their type and mode of action. There is undoubtedly
monotony in the play-intensity of childhood, but the child has not the
innumerable sources of variety appealed to by the adult genius whom
he so often and so much resembles. The self-imitation of the child fore-
shadows a similar phenomenon, broader and deeper in the adult genius,
which is higher and greater than all hetero-imitation of any sort what-
soever. All things considered, these phenomena of childhood suggest
that the school is on the wrong track in seeking to force upon the young
lesson- restraints of several hours duration (both morning and afternoon,
nay, even at night sometimes), and placing the emphasis upon a high
average in all things and at all times. Ought it not rather to utilize
the brief periods of intense activity fathered by heredity, perhaps, and
mothered by interest? Is more than an hour really necessary for the
schoolman's art to deal with the growing child ? The shortening of the
school-day, advocated now in divers parts of the pedagogical world,
has not at all gone far enough, if it be true that a few minutes of the
child at his best outweigh the mediocre rest of his hour, or even day.
As the one brilliant figure or turn of speech in the arid desert of a set
composition acquits the child and condemns the teacher, so the one
bright answer or genial question, not the stupidity of the remainder
of the lesson, should go upon record. How often the pupil is * stung
by the splendor of a sudden thought,' which the routine mind of the

*'Die Spiele der Menschen' (Jena, 1899), pp. 472-478.

4i6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

teacher fails utterly to appreciate, nay often deliberately excommuni-
cates ! The adult, as a rule, by reason of his own artificially produced
'normality/ neglects or represses those 'genial moments' of childhood,
which are kith and kin with the ' inspiration ' and ' intoxication ' of
those greatest of the race whom we recognize sooner or later as true
geniuses. Another characteristic of childhood is the rapidity with
which the change from play to rest, from brilliancy to apparent
stupidity, from action to inaction bodily and mental can be
made, and vice versa. This is particularly noticeable in American
school-children, whose power of summoning up their reserve knowledge
or strength (often with almost entire neglect of regular training)
is remarkable. The records of the amateur dramatics, of the young
people's associations of all kinds, religious as well as secular, of sports
and games (here the English boy and girl count too) even, amply
demonstrate this. Time and again has the instructor, driven to despair
by the neglect, inattention and apparent stupidity of those in his
charge, been moved to admiration by their performances when the
critical moment arrived. This power of childhood, too, has been largely
overlooked, or unavailed of, unappealed to, in our schools, where the
desire has always been to make sure of the accomplishment of the task
set by actual demonstration of the pupil's parts, rather than, by
indirection, to make sure that the latent genius will, in the right set-
ting, assert itself in a fashion unattainable by the mere artificialities
of hetero-persuasion and compulsion. In this respect we have still
much to learn from the philosophy of primitive peoples.

Woman. — At first blush woman would seem to be an exception to
the theory outlined in these pages. The popular saying has it ' woman's
work is never done,' and Professor 0. T. Mason* has shown the im-
mense amount of labor of all sorts, from the care of the tribal religion
to the merest drudgery, that has been performed by her. Says Have-
lock Ellis:* "The tasks which demand a powerful development of
muscle and bone, and the resulting capacity for intermittent spurts
of energy, involving corresponding periods of rest, fall to the man ; the
care of the children and all the very various industries which radiate
from the hearth, and which call for an expenditure of energy more
continuous but at a lower tension, fall to the woman." But he admits
that 'the exceptions are very numerous.' And woman has been so
long under an artificial regime inspired bv man's belief in her in-
feriority that many of the phenomena of work are with her no longer
naive, natural or strictly evolutional in character. The women of the
Seris, e. g., possess a good deal of the marked characteristics of the
men in respect to intense activity, continued rest and rapid transition

•'Woman's Share in Primitive Culture' (N. Y., 1894).
* 'Man and Woman' (London, 1894), p. 1.

WORK AND REST: GENIUS AND STUPIDITY. 417

from one state to the other, and the same thing may be said of other
savage peoples as well. Something of this ability to change from the
commonplace to the intense is seen in the quick perception and
nimble action of woman's thought to-day:* "Whenever a man and
a woman are found under compromising circumstances it is nearly
always the woman who with ready wit audaciously retrieves the situation.
Every one is acquainted with instances from life or from history of
women whose quick and cunning ruses have saved lover or husband or
child." The Breton fisherman confesses to a like quality in the other
sex, when he replies to his questioner, 'See my wife about it,' and this
is largely true of the lower and ignorant classes on the one hand, and
of ' society ' on the other, in most civilized communities. In this
matter, as in many others, woman probably is leading the race. Traces
of the night-inspiration, of the influence of the primitive fire-group,
abound in woman. Indeed, it may be said (the life of southern Europe
and of American society of to-day illustrates the point abundantly) that
she is, in a sense, a 'night-being,' for the activity physical and mental
of modern women (revealed, e. g., in the dance and the nocturnal in-
tellectualities of society) in this direction is remarkable. Perhaps we
may style a good deal of her ordinary day labor as ' rest,' or the common-
places and banalities of her existence, her evening and night life being
the true genius side of her activities. It is an interesting fact that in
acting and dancing, two professions essentially of the night, woman
shows marked genius, exceeding even that of man. Singing may be-
long here also, in part at least. Havelock Ellis f finds the organic basis
of women's success in acting in the fact that 'in women mental proc-
esses are usually more rapid than in men ; they have also an emotional
explosiveness much more marked than men possess, and more easily
within call.' Again, 'women are more susceptible than men to the
immediate stimulus of admiration and applause supplied by contact
with an audience.' Legouve saidij "It has been reserved to the
female sex to produce the marvel which we admire to-day of a young
girl reaching in a few months the heights of dramatic art which Talma,.
Lekain and Baron only attained to after long labor and in the maturity
of their age." In fiction women have also scored marked success, be-
cause, as Havelock Ellis remarks : " What it demands is a quick per-
ception of human character and social life colored by a more or less
intense emotional background." These things our poets have sung
to us time and again. Thus, when we consider women in the fields
in which her highest genius asserts itself, we find that in general she
conforms to the theory here advanced. Altogether the life of woman

* Havelock Ellis. Op. cit., p. 174.

t Op. cit., p. 324.

t Cited in Havelock Ellis's ' Man and Woman,' p. 326.

VOL. LX. — 27.

41 8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

furnishes more evidence than one would be inclined at first to suspect,
in support of the theory set forth in these pages. And were her in-
dividual emotional and intellectual life given more sway the evidence
would probably be even greater, for, emotionally, she illustrates the
theory in its most genial form, and her best-first efforts in many lines
of thought and action indicate vast possibilities in the right direction.
The Genius. — Of the activities of men of genius we know altogether
too little. But, as Platzhoff* has recently observed, the present is an
age of personality, and there exists an intense desire to see the individual
in the creative process, to catch, if possible, the personality as it meta-
morphoses itself into, or 'secretes,' the invention, the poem, the novel,
the picture, the great thing of whatever sort. It is an epoch of biog-
raphies and autobiographies, of interviews, confessions and recollections,
of diaries, love-letters, descriptions of private life, etc. At the two ex-
tremes we have an eminent litterateur's account of 'How I wrote my
greatest novel,' and the Sunday newspaper's illustrated article on 'How
Judge X. spends his vacation.' Out of this immense, incongruous mass
of facts and fancies, by patient selection, it is possible to obtain some
■data at least of the highest importance for our view of the activity of
genius. Many of the definitions and characterizations of genius have
dealt with its relation to work, — 'genius is mainly an affair of energy,'
•^genius is nothing but labor and diligence,' 'genius is only an
infinite capacity for hard work,' etc. But such characterizations
•of genius are born of the contemplation of the necessity under
which, in our present forms of society, men of genius are compelled to
work hard in order to live, and to work long in order to achieve fame.
The capacity of genius for persistent, intense hard work, if it really
exists, is only a temporary necessity, a transient expedient, not a
permanent phenomenon of human evolution. True genius seems rather
to accomplish its work by brief periods of intense activity than by un-
ceasing labor and untiring diligence, by the raptus, not by the ordo or
the ratio. And, apart from the necessities of the ill-regulated social
system of to-day, the genius, like the child, is marked by an extreme
capacity for almost 'lightning change' from productivity to infertility,
from wisdom and wit to ignorance and stupidity, from activity of the
intensest sort to equally noteworthy inertness. And therein he really
recapitulates the race to which he belongs, for, shorn of certain ex-
crescences acquired in the making, he is the normal man, not the ab-
normal, as so many critics of genius ancient and modem, will have it.
Lombrosof has a brief section on the stupidity of men of genius, the
nod dings of the Homers of all ages, and his school has made much of

* Personlichkeit und Werk. Zu einer Theorie der Biographie. Arch. f. sys-
tem. Philos. (Berlin), Vol. VII. (1891), pp. 210-226.

fThe Man of Genius (Lond., 1895), pp. 25-26.

^YOBK AND REST: GENIUS AND STUPIDITY. 419

such things. But, far from proving the abnormality of genius, they are
one of the proofs of its general sanity and inherent humanness. The
common man does not focus upoli himself the glare of investigation
or his 'peculiarities' would stand forth in their kinship with those of
the genius who is the cynosure of all. Genius, by virtue of its hu-
manity, has a right to be stupid here and there. Talent, which is so
largely artificial, abhors stupidity, as nature is said to abhor a vacuum,
or the Devil to hate holy water, but genius proves its naturalness by
its occasional stupidity. The keenest eye has its blind-spot, the most
highly evolved brain its non-responsive cells. Says Lombroso:* " When
the moment of inspiration is over, the man of genius becomes an or-
dinary man, if he does not descend lower; in the same way, personal
inequalities, or, according to modern terminology, double, or even con-
trary, personality, is one of the characters of genius. Our greatest
poets, Isaac Disraeli remarked (in Curiosities of Literature), Shakes-
peare and Dryden, are those who have produced the worst lines. It
was said of Tintoretto that sometimes he surpassed Tintoretto, and
sometimes was inferior to Caracci."

The Criminal. — Says Havelock Ellis :f 'While he is essentially
lazy . . . the criminal is capable of moments of violent activity.' The
vacuous lives of criminals, with whom inertia is practically normal and
continuous for long periods, have their brief epoch of excitement, ex-
plosion, diversion, uproar, intoxication, exhilaration and 'breaking
out.' Indulgence in alcohol, gambling, sexual orgies, spasmodic and
emotional manifestations of personality, and the like, are the sharp
peaks that rise, few in number so often, from long low stretches of com-
monplace inertia and quiescence, or from the imprisonment that seems
the normal condition of so many of them. The monotonous lapse of
prison life is dotted with those outbreaks to which the German crim-
inologists and psychiatrists have given the name of 'Zuchthausknall.'
The French thief, in his jargon, calls himself ' pegre,' or ' idler,' and a
pickpocket said to Lombroso, "You see in these 'moments of inspira-
tion' we cannot restrain ourselves; we have to steal." In the execution
of many of those acts denominated crimes the offender exhibits the phe-
nomenon of a brief period of violent activity, extreme impulsivity, great
emotionality, remarkable cunning, wide-awake personality, preceded
and followed by longer (often very long) periods of inertness, quies-
cence, impassivity, obtuseness, subdued individuality.

The Savage. — That the savage hates work has been a favorite theory
with travelers and philosophers, and the et}Tnologists, by pointing out
the real significance of flie terms for ' work,' which in so many languages

* Loc. cit., p. 74.

t ' The Criminal ' (London, 1890), p. 143. See also pp. 144-152.

420 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

(Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Italian, French, etc.) are synonymous with
pain and suffering, have corroborated such a view. Indeed, in English
one word is still applicable to the ' labor ' of women in child-birth,
of the peasant in the field and of the man of science in his laboratory
or in his study. According to Ferrero,* the habit of work is one of
the great acquisitions of civilized man, who has left his opinion of its
disagreeableness, not merely in words by which it is named, but also in
myths and legends scattered all over the globe, in which the necessity
to labor is represented (as in some of the Eden stories) as a result of the
sinfulness of the fathers of the race. Vierkandt,f in his recent study
of savagery and civilization, synthetizes these two stages of human
progress as ' play ' and ' organization ' respectively. Professor Karl
Bucher,J of Leipzig, who devotes one section of a very interesting and
suggestive book to the 'work methods of primitive peoples,' reviews
briefly the ' horror laboris ' theory, pointing out that the latest and most
trustworthy studies of savage and barbarous peoples indicate, beyond a
doubt, that a very large amount of work is performed by them, though
the impulses leading up to it are not the same as those which influence
the work of cultured races, the technical aids are very imperfect, the
work processes complicated, and a tendency to artistic elaboration and
adornment is marked among the uncivilized peoples. With Ferrero,
Biicher holds that the horror laboris could hardly have originated from
bodily fatigue, since many of the phenomena of activity among primi-
tive peoples, notably some of their dances, continue until utter weariness
and exhaustion end them. According to Bucher,§ it is aversion to
effort of the mind and will, not repugnance to bodily exertion and
fatigue, that causes the savage to dislike work. His dislike is of
psychic origin, and in such performances as the dance, which are car-
ried on to the point of exhaustion and fatigue he finds ' an easy means
of discharging, without destroying the condition of mental inertia so
characteristic of him, the accumulation of nerve-force in his intellectual
organs.' That this theory can be carried too far and that the dance
and cognate activities are not the only ones which the savage is capable
of carrying on in genius-fashion is evident from the researches of Boas
and other competent and thoroughgoing students of primitive man.
The most suggestive of all recent writings on this head is Dr. W J
McGee's|| account of the Seri Indians of Tiburon Island and the ad-
jacent Sonoran coast of the Gulf of California. These Indians are not

* 'Les formes primitives du travail.' Rev. Scientif. (Paris), 1896, pp. 331-
335. See also: Les lois psychologiques du symbolisme (Paris, 1895), pp. 13, 24.

t ' Naturvolker und Kulturvolker ' (Leipzig, 1896).

I ' Arbeit und Rhytlimus.' 2te Aufl. (Leipzig, 1899), pp. 1-23.

%' hoc. cit., p. 21.

II Seventeenth Ann. Rep. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. (Washington, 1898 [1901], pp.
1-128, 129*-344*.

WORK AND REST: GENIUS AND STUPIDITY. 421

merely ' one of the most strongly marked and distinctive of aboriginal
tribes/ but ' must be assigned to the initial place in the scale of develop-
ment represented by the American aborigines, and hence to the lowest
recognized phase of savagery.' In Dr. McGee's detailed description
of this remarkable tribe of savages, the following passage is significant :

"So the observer of the Seri is impressed by the intensity of functioning
along lines defined by their characteristic traits, and equally by the capricious-
ness of the functioning and the remarkably wide range between activity and in-
activity which render them aggregations of extremes, — the Seri are at once the
swiftest and the laziest, the strongest and the most inert, the most warlike and
the most docile of tribesmen; and their transitions from role to rSle are singu-
larly capricious and sudden. At the same time the observer is impressed by
the relatively long intervals between the periods of activity; true, the intense
activity may cover hours, as in the chase of a deer, or days, as in a distant
predatory raid, or perhaps even weeks, when the tribe is on the warpath; yet
all the known facts indicate that far the greater portion of the time of war-
riors, women, and children is spent in idle lounging about rancherias and
camps, in lolling and slumbering in the sun by day and in huddling under the
scanty shelter of jacales or shrubbery by night, — i. e., when their activity is
measured by hours, their intervals of repose must be measured by days."*

This is an entirely different view from that which travelers of a day
have expressed concerning savage and barbarous man, and statements
such as those of Eengger about the pathological slowness and stupidity
of the Guarani, as Hirnf terms it, must be read in a new light. And
perhaps we may say the same thing about Sproat's;]; characterization
of the Indians of Vancouver Island, which has been cited with approval
by Spencer. Many travelers and investigators have seen the savage
during the period of laziness and stupidity only and have ascribed to
him these qualities alone. But while the Seri Indians are so well de-
veloped somatically, are runners in a land of running peoples (their
very name signifies ' spry '), are expert paddlers in very stormy waters,
excellent hunters and warriors of high prestige, in fact possess a phys-
ical strength-reserve which makes them masters of their habitat, Hhey
have been no less notorious among the Caucasian settlers of two genera-
tions for unparalleled laziness, for a lethargic sloth beyond that of slug-
gish ox or somnolent swine, which was an irritating marvel to the
patient padres of the eighteenth century, and is to-day a by-word in the
even-tempered land of Manana.' Moreover this inactivity is so complete
that ' the sinewy hands and muscular jaws are noticeably inert during
the intervals between intense functionings, are practically free from the
spontaneous or nervous movements of habitually busy persons, and con-

* Loc. cit., p. 156.

t'The Origins of Art' (London, 1900).

$See: F. Boas in Proc. Atner. Assoc. Adv. 8ci., 1894. Here Sproat's error
is pointed out.

42 2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tribute by their immobility to the air of indolence or languor which so
impressed padres and rancheros/ Just as complete is the transition from
the manifestations of race-hatred culminating on the war-path to ' the
abject docility of the Seri when at peace and in camp.' Altogether the
Seris offer a brilliant example of intuitive relying upon reserve strength
to the disregarding of the mechanical and artificial devices known to
civilization, which so often make the individual absolutely dependent
upon them and not upon himself, causing many a dire calamity in times
of real storm and stress. The rapidity of the transition from extreme
inertness to extreme activity is also emphasized by Dr. McGee. It
therefore seems that the long periods of inactivity do not appreciably
injure either the brief periods of activity or inhibit the swift passage
from one to the other so characteristic of these savages. According
to Dr. McGee the Seri have acquired a ' race-sense ' in these matters,
that never fails them.

Generalizations are always hazardous, but we can hardly doubt that
the Seris as described by Dr. McGee more fairly typify the savage and
primitive man than do certain other tribes glimpsed at by incompetent
or casual observers.

The Pace. — That the races of man, and perhaps all mankind con-
sidered as a whole, have their alternations of activity and inactivity is
very probable. Particularly is this true when we consider some special
quality, which may be said to correspond to genius in the individual.
There are ' lean ' and ' fat ' years of racial genius. Havelock Ellis, in
his careful study of ' British Genius,'* notes as one of the two most im-
portant factors, ' a spontaneous rhythmical rise and fall in the pro-
duction of genius' ; this is indicated in the distribution of men of genius
by centuries and half-centuries, etc. The so-called ' ages ' of English
history — Elizabethan, Victorian — the Augustan period in Eome, the
era of Pericles in Greece, and their innumerable counterparts in the
annals of other lands afford proof of the rhythmic movement of racial
genius at its best in comparatively brief intervals, while the 'dark ages '
of much longer duration are represented in many other parts of the
world than in Europe. The renaissances and revolutions of various
sorts, the outbursts of political energy, invention, maritime discovery,
literature, dramatic art, etc., represented in Athens by the period 530-
430 B. C, in England by 1550-1650 A. D., and in America by 1783-
1814, are well worth studying from this point of view. For Europe the
brief period 1550-1700 is particularly glorious, since during it there
came into the world Spenser, Marlowe, Shakespeare, Bacon and Lope
da Vega, while during the period 1620-1640 were bom Dryden, Locke,
Moliere, Eacine and Spinoza. Italian art, Semitic religion, Greek
philosophy, Hindu metaphysics and Chinese rationalism are not with-
* Popular Science Monthly, Vol. LVIII., p. 379.

WORK AND REST: GENIUS AND STUPIDITY. 423

out a like periodicity. Throughout European history especially there
can be traced waves of activity and inactivity traversing every avenue
of human thought and expression. For the race, as well as for the
individual, the 'magnum opus' is performed in the 'minimum tempus'
— a year is often more than a century.

We have now considered in the life of the animal, the child, the wo-
man, the genius, the criminal, the savage, the race, the theory that brief
periods of work at the highest possible tension alternating with longer
periods of rest or changed activity represent the best working conditions
and have found not a little evidence to support it in every quarter. The
experience of other than mere professional athletes, the methods of
animal trainers, the results of half-time schools, the progressive re-
duction of the hours of labor for working-men and shop-employees will
furnish many more data of the same kind. It has been argued that
two hours physical labor per diem would suffice, were the product
economically distributed, to keep the whole world well supplied, so
great has been the advance in labor-saving machinery, methods of trans-
portation, etc. Is it altogether unreasonable to suppose that two hours
intellectual work, under right conditions and with economic distribution
of the product, would suffice to keep the whole world supplied here also ?
Two hours of every one's best would be something worth achieving,
physically and intellectually. An end something like this is the ideal
to which things are bound to tend. Some poet of the future may be
able to sing: 'Better the New World hour than the long European day.'
The racial nervousness of the American people, non-pathological in
reality, is perhaps the groundwork for this achievement.

424 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

SCIENCE IN 1901.*

"jTN a review of the scientific work of 1901, astronomy, as the oldest of
-*- the sciences, may fitly claim first mention, especially as it fell to the
astronomers to make what was, on the whole, the most exciting discovery
of the year. This was a new and brilliant star in Persens, which ap-
peared to spring into existence in a remarkably sudden manner. That
portion of the heavens in which it was situated was photographed at
Harvard on February 19, and no sign of it was to be detected on the
plates when they were developed; yet only a day or two afterwards it
was seen by Dr. T. D. Anderson, of Edinburgh, and by other observers
as a star of between the second and third magnitude. The suddenness
of its appearance was equalled by the rapidity with which its size varied,
and this inconstancy, together with the extraordinary changes that took
place in the character of its spectrum, provided astronomers with a
theme for speculation, the resources of which are 5^et very far from being
exhausted. In April a new comet, said to be the brightest since that of
1883, was discovered in the southern hemisphere by several observers.
In May its tail, which at first was 10° in length and curved slightly to
the south, split into three parts. On May ISth, there was an eclipse of
the sun, the line of totality passing across the Indian Ocean through
Sumatra, Borneo and New Guinea. The party from Greenwich se-
lected their station in Mauritius, where the duration of totality was only
three and a half minutes, and enjoyed the advantage of good weather.
Other observers who took up their positions in Sumatra had a longer
(six minutes') duration of totality, but were not quite so fortunate as
regards weather.

In pure physics, perhaps the most interesting single achievement of
the year was the experimental proof that light, as predicted by Maxwell
and by Bartoli, exerts a mechanical pressure. Many observers have al-
ready attempted to detect this phenomenon, among them being Sir Wil-
liam Crookes, who at first thought he had succeeded in so doing with
his radiometer, until it was found that his effect was many thousand
times too great. Curiously enough, success was announced almost si-
multaneously in two different quarters, by Professor Lebedew, of Mos-
cow University, in Europe, and by Messrs. Nicholls and Hull in Ameri-
ca. The work of the latter observers appears to be the less precise of
the two, for they do not claim that it does more than prove the existence
of a pressure, not due to gas-molecules, of the nature and order of mag-

* From the London Times.

SCIENCE IN 1901. 425

nitude required. Professor Lebedew's measurements are, however, in
close agreement with the amounts as calculated from tlie theory; he
finds that the pressure per square meter is 0.4 milligram for abso-
lutely black bodies, and double as much for perfect reflectors. This
experimental verification of one consequence of Maxwell's wonderful
electro-magnetic theory suggests reference to another which is gradually
passing out of the experimental stage and becoming of practical utility.
It is only a few years since Principal Lodge astonished the British Asso-
ciation by showing that the electric waves in connection with which
Hertz's name is famous, could be propagated to a distance of half a mile
or so; yet already the wireless telegraphy so initiated has become a rec-
ognized portion of the equipment of ships in all the important navies
of the world. In the mercantile marine, too, it is making way, so much
so that Lloyd's, in the course of the 5'ear, contracted to have it fitted in
a number of their signal stations round the British coasts. Almost
every country can show workers who are engaged, with more or less
success, in perfecting its appliances, among them being Popoff in Eus-
sia, Slaby in Germany, Guarini in Belgium, Ducretet in France, and
Marconi in England. The last-named, by using waves a thousand feet
long, succeeded in detecting electro-magnetic radiation which had trav-
eled, 1,800 miles from the source that produced it, and he is looking
forward to the early establishment of a commercial system of sending
messages across the Atlantic by wireless telegraphy, and later to open-
ing uj) communication with the Cape. But while the performance of
such feats in long-distance transmission is certainly a legitimate object
of ambition, it must not be forgotten that very much remains to be
done in perfecting wireless telegraphy for comparatively short distances.
If ever it is to become of real commercial importance, means must be
found not only to enable two parties to communicate with each other
without fear of their message being overheard, but also to prevent a
third party from making communication impossible altogether by the
simple device of working his own apparatus and thus rendering the
signals unintelligible. Even before these refinements comes the neces-
sity of ensuring certain transmission of simple signals over moderate
distances. The imperfections of present methods are sufficiently illus-
trated by the experiences of the Ophir and her consorts, and by the diffi-
culty which the Admiralty have found in obtaining coherers that can
be trusted to respond satisfactorily over their test-distance of 70 miles
— a difficulty which has induced them to take the manufacture of these
delicate pieces of apparatus virtually into their own hands.

Of all the physical forces which it is the business of science to inves-
tigate, none bulked more largely in the public e3'e than electricity. The
idea of distributing current for various purposes from a central station
to a large surrounding area made distinct progress during the year.

42 6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

though in Mond gas Parliament sanctioned a novel and rival method
of power transmission. While its use for lighting, for electrolytic man-
ufactures, etc., steadily advanced, it was in regard to its applications to
traction that electricity was most conspicuous. Some schemes of this
sort were brought into actual operation, some were definitely decided
upon; but more still were mere suggestions, few of which have much
chance of being translated into fact. Among the last class must be
ranked the host of tube-railways which threaten to invade London. If
Parliament were to sanction all those proposed and if (what is not less
unlikely) their promoters were to obtain the money for their construc-
tion, it seems that in some places the subsoil of the City of London
would be transfonned into a solid mass of iron tubes, and it is doubtful
whether there would even be room for all in the earth, whatever the
ingenuity of drawing-offices may do in plans. This activity on the part
of promoters is largely a result of the success of the Central London
Eailway, but it is conveniently forgotten that there are other tube rail-
ways which cannot point to anything like similar results. In the near
future, too, it does not seem improbable that there may be a change in
popular sentiment in favor of shallow lines just below the surface, where
efficient ventilation will be obtainable; for people are discovering that
steam and sulphur are not the only things that make an atmosphere
offensive, and they may soon realize that to roll a mass of used-up air
forwards and backwards in a narrow tunnel, without ever renewing it,
does not constitute ventilation sufficient either for comfort or for health.
During the year many towns brought electric traction into operation on
their surface tramlines, and after protracted obstruction the authorities
of Kew Observatory, who feared that certain magnetic observations car-
ried on at that somewhat unsuitable site would be injuriously affected
by stray electric currents, agreed to withdraw their opposition to the
opening of the first electric tramway seen in London, in consideration of
the company which owns the lines contributing £10,000 towards the
expenses of moving the instruments. Among proposals which were
definitely determined upon may be mentioned the adoption of electrical
propulsion for the Mersey Eailway in Liverpool, and for the Metro-
politan and District Eailways in London, both to a large extent
with the aid of American capital. For the latter, two systems were con-
sidered— the Ganz polyphase and the ordinary direct current. The
question which should be selected was referred to the Board of Trade for
decision, and as soon as that step was taken the matter was practically
settled, for few could doubt but that so eminently conservative a body
would choose a system which has been well tried in various parts of the
world, in preference to one which has scarcely passed the experimental
stage, and which, moreover, involves the employment of electricity at
a much higher pressure than it is used to. In another case also the

SCIENCE IN 1901. 427

Board was made master of the situation, for Parliament, while passing
the Bill for the Behr Monorail high-speed line between Liverpool and
Manchester, practically delegated the power to authorize the construc-
tion of the line to that body, which must approve of the engineering
details before work can be begun, and may require the promoters to
carry out any preliminary experiments it thinks necessary. From the
point of view of public safety there are doubtless advantages in this
policy of entrusting everything to the Board of Trade, but its practical
effect will probably be that British engineers will be debarred from tak-
ing the lead in any new electrical development which conceivably in-
volves risk to human life. In connection with high-speed lines, men-
tion must be made of the experiments carried out in Germany on the
Berlin-Zossen military line, where, by the aid of electricity at a high
voltage, a speed of about 100 miles an hour was obtained, not, it would
appear, without some damage to the permanent way.

That wide field of inquiry which lies in the borderland between
physics and chemistry is attracting an ever-increasing number of work-
ers. Though no discovery of outstanding importance was made, the
Cambridge school can point to a year of solid work on the phenomena
of ionization and the existence of bodies many times smaller than mole-
cules, and, in spite of the protests of some chemists, the ionic dissocia-
tion hypothesis continues to find increasing favor among the great body
of physicists. In France progress was made in the investigation of the
radio-active bodies by M. and Mme. Curie, Becquerel, and others; the
first-named inquirers made the observation that the rays emitted by
radium exercise a burning and eroding effect on the skin. In Germany,
Bredig and Ikeda continued their remarkable experiments with 'inor-
ganic ferments,' in particular following out the analogy between the
catalytic action of colloidal platinum and that of organic ferments in
regard to the action of poisons. They find that the rate of decomposi-
tion of hydrogen peroxide in presence of colloidal platinum is in-
liuenced to an extraordinary degree by substances like prussic acid, hy-
drogen sulphide, and mercuric chloride, even in minute quantities.
Thus the catalytic effect of a platinum solution is halved by prussic
acid, even when the concentration of the latter is only 0.0014 milli-
gram per liter; the effect of this substance is, however, only tem-
porary, and the solution gradually recovers in course of time. A large
number of substances exert this poisoning action to a greater or less
extent, but there are some which intensify the catalytic action of the
colloidal platinum, among them being formic acid and dilute nitric
acid. Experiments have also been tried with a colloidal solution of gold
obtained in a manner similar to that employed in the case of platinum,
by passing an electric current between gold wires in a dilute solution
of sodium hydroxide. This gold solution, which is bluish-violet in color

428 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and contains one gram atom of gold in 1,360 liters, on the whole
resembles colloidal platinum in its action, but it is remarkable that the
same agents are not poisonous to both. Thus mercuric chloride, one of
the strongest poisons for colloidal platinum, exerts an opposite influence
on the catalyzing power of colloidal gold in alkaline solution.

Professor Gamgee's investigations into the magnetic qualities of the
blood again touch physics on the one hand and physiology on the other.
Starting from Faraday's observation that blood is a diamagnetic fluid
in spite of the iron contained in its coloring matters, he has found that,
while oxy-hsemoglobin is powerfully diamagnetic, the hsematin and
hgemin which may be obtained from it by the action of certain acids
are strongly magnetic. He is extending his inquiries to the products
obtained by the electrolysis of oxy-hsemoglobin. Mr. H. Swithinbank
has been carrying out an elaborate investigation into the effects pro-
duced on tubercle bacillus by exposure to the cold of liquid air. He
finds that prolonged exposure to that temperature, and even actual
soaking in liquid air, has little or no effect on the vitality of the bacillus,
though its virulence is to some extent modified. Length of exposure,
indeed, does not seem to be an important factor, but what does produce
a decided destructive effect on the vitality and virulence is exposure to
alternations of temperature, as when the bacillus is frozen in liquid air,
allowed to warm up to normal temperature, cooled again, and so on.
The most striking incident at the Tuberculosis Congress held in Lon-
don in July was the pronouncement by Professor Koch that bovine and
human tuberculosis are distinct diseases, and that consumption is not
transmissible from cattle to human beings. His views by no means
commanded universal assent, and it was generally felt that more evi-
dence was required before they could be accepted, and especially before
any relaxation could be seriously contemplated in the sanitary regula-
tions which have been framed on the assumption that the disease is so
transmissible. During the proceedings of the Congress great stress was
laid on the value of the open-air treatment of consumption, and as a
result a strong impetus was given to the movement for establishing sana-
toria where it can be carried out. One important semi-public institu-
tion of the kind was brought into use near Wokingham in the course of
the year, and the erection of several others in various parts of the coun-
try has been determined upon. A sum of £200,000 placed at the dis-
posal of the King by Sir Ernest Cassel has also been devoted by His
Majesty to the erection of one of these sanatoria. Another mode of
treating consumption, which did not receive nearly so much attention at
the Congress, has been tried by Dr. Maguire, of the Brompton Consump-
tion Hospital, with very promising results. This consists of the intra-
venous injection of formalin in carefully-graduated strengths and
amounts. The effect, even in some very advanced cases, has been a rapid

SCIENCE IN 1901. 429

lowering of the temperature^ and even after the immediate action of the
injection has passed off the patient experiences relief from the malaise
which is so distressing a consequence of high temperature. The drug
appears to possess in particular a controlling inflvience on streptococcic
and staph3dococcic infection, and it seems probable that its use may be
extended to the treatment of other diseases.

Increased light is being thrown on mosquitoes as agents in the propa-
gation of disease. Not only has more detailed information been gained
as to the part they play in the causation of malaria, preventive measures
based on that information being put in operation with a certain amount
of success, but evidence has been brought forward which indicates that
the spread of yellow fever also is due to them. That disease, at least,
has developed in persons who have been bitten by mosquitoes, while
others protected from mosquitoes have escaped, even though they courted
infection, according to older ideas, by wearing clothes and sleeping in
bedding which had been used by yellow fever patients. In Glasgow there
was an outbreak of smallpox in the early part of the year, and plague
appeared in one of the large hotels ; but, owing to the vigorous measures
adopted, neither disease succeeded in gaining any stronghold. In Lon-
don, too, smallpox is prevalent to a greater extent than it has been for
a considerable period, though there can scarcely be said to be an epidemic
in the sense in which that term was used twenty or thirty years ago.

In natural history the most interesting discovery was that of a new
mammal in the Congo Hinterland. Sir Harry Johnston obtained from
the Semliki Forest a complete skin and two skulls, and a reconstruction
of the animal may now be seen in the jSTatural History Museum at South
Kensington. At first it was thought to be of a zebra-like character, on
the evidence of certain stripes on its skin, but further investigation dis-
pelled that notion, and Professor Eay Lankester has diagnosed it as a
giraffine animal. It has been named Ohapi Johnstoni.

The men of science who died during the year include three who took
high rank among physicists — Professor Tait, of Edinburgh, Professor
Fitzgerald, of Dublin and Professor Eowland, of Baltimore. The first-
named had reached the age of three score and ten, but the other two
were both comparatively young men from whom much good work, in
addition to what they had already achieved, might confidently have been
expected had they lived. Both education and science were the poorer by
the death of Principal Viriamu Jones, of University College, Cardiff, in
succession to whom another physicist has been appointed in the person
of Mr. E. H. Griffiths. On the other hand, two veterans of science —
Virchow in Germany and Berthelot in France — celebrated the comple-
tion of fifty years of scientific work.

430 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

FEANKLIN'S PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.

By Dr. ELLIS PAXSON OBERHOLZER,

PHILADELPHIA, PA.

MR. FREDERICK FRALEY, who died in Philadelphia on Septem-
ber 23, at the age of 98 years, was the president of the oldest
learned society in this country, the American Philosophical Society.
He occupied this office longer than any other president except Benjamin
Franklin. Both Mr. Fraley and Dr. Franklin served for twenty-one
years, Franklin the first president, from 1769 until 1790, and Fraley the
last, from 1880 until 1901. Thomas Jefferson was president of the
Society for eighteen years, or from 1797 to 1815, therefore during the
entire time he was president of the United States. David Rittenhouse
served it in this capacity from 1791 until his death, and some facts in
the life of an organization which boasts of such early connections should
be recalled by a generation to whom its history is very little known.

Behind the State House in Philadelphia, where the Declaration of
Independence was adopted and liberty was proclaimed throughout the
land, where the Continental Congress met, where the Constitution of
the United States was framed and the American government was
established, where the new Congress convened for ten years and Wash-
ington, Jefferson, Adams, Hamilton, Morris and the fathers of the
Republic were figures passing through its doors and down its corridors,
as familiar as the old porters and watchmen who now guard the relies
that are displayed there to the populace, stands a detached colonial
building of red brick which is almost as old as Independence Hall
itself. This is the Hall of the American Philosophical Society, and
it so closely abuts upon one wing of the State House that it seems to
be almost a part of it. Its rooms downstairs are hired out to-day to
stockbrokers, but the apartments in the two upper stories are hung with
interesting portraits and filled with busts and books and relics of
another day, a trust bequeathed to the living members by a notable
galaxy of men who created the Society to propagate scientific knowledge
in the new world.

Nearly everything of any antiquity in Philadelphia may be traced
back 'to Benjamin Franklin. It was he, of course, who founded the
American Philosophical Society. When a young man still at work at
the printing trade he organized a number of his fellows into a club
which he called the Junto. This band of young Philadelphians met

FRANKLIN'S PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY. 431

at the homes of the members and in the city taverns to discuss scientific
or 'philosophical' questions — what becomes of all the water that flows
into the Mediterranean Sea, whether 'elementary fire' and the electric
fluid were the same thing and other ponderous problems calculated to
engage the interest of the rising generation in the eighteenth century.

It Avas in 1743 that Franklin, then a man of thirty-seven with
several successes to his credit, announced to his friends his plans for
a larger Junto. It was to be a national society 'for promoting useful
knowledge among the British Plantations in America.' It was to have
a president, a secretary and a treasurer who should live in Philadelphia,
since this city was assumed to be more centrally located than any other
in America. In Philadelphia, too, there should be always resident
seven members, a physician, a botanist, a mathematician, a chemist, a
mechanician, a geographer and a general natural philosopher. Into
these various departments it was conceived at the time that all learning
or philosophy could be brought, and Franklin proffered his own services
as the Society's secretary. The body was to receive members from every
part of the colonies, and they were 'to maintain constant correspond-
ence' with each other, to the end that whatever useful information one
might secure might be passed on to the others and in this way be made
the common property of the people.

The founders, however, seemed not to be able to make the Society
thrive. The colonies still contained too few who were interested in
the propagation of useful knowledge and after a brief period of activity
the members were obliged to suspend their meetings. It was not until
1767 that there were signs of awakening life, when many men of
prominence in Philadelphia and its neighborhood were elected to mem-
bership. In the meantime, a rival society had become quite active, and
negotiations for union were begun. A basis of agreement having been
reached, in January, 1769, the two societies officially christened 'the
American Philosophical Society held at Philadelphia for promoting
useful knowledge,' the cumbrous title which the body still retains, met
together for the first time. Dr. Franklin was made the president of the
consolidated societies, while he was still absent in England; and thus,
twenty-six years after he had originated the idea, a period that had
been full of progress and change for him, as well as for the American
colonies, he lived to see his early hopes realized in a scientific society
whose fame was soon to spread over the whole civilized world.

Although abroad almost constantly he remained president of the
American philosophers until his death. He occupied the chair for the
first time in 1775, but returned to Europe almost immediately to be
absent for another period of nine years. Wherever he wandered, how-
ever, he was always mindful of his obligations to the Society which
each year reelected him to its chief office. His personal triumphs as

432 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the American Ambassador at the court of France were all grist to the
mill of the Society which gained corresponding members from the
literati of Europe and exchanged its transactions with every principal
scientific body in the world. Membership in a short time came to be
looked upon as a mark of distinction for most of our revolutionary
leaders, for Washington and the other presidents of the United States,
for the Supreme Court judges, the members of the cabinet, senators and
congressmen and for the various diplomatic representatives who made
Philadelphia their headquarters while the city was the American capital.
Strange ideas haunted the minds of the philosophers, and scientists
in Europe must have chuckled with amusement when they read some
of the Society's reports. Franlvlin's practical spirit breathes through
this statement of the purposes of the Society, which was published in
the first volume of the Transactions in 1771 :

Knowledge is of little use when confined to mere speculation. But when
speculative truths are reduced to practice, when theories grounded upon ex-
periments are applied to the common purposes of life; and when by these agri-
culture is improved, trade enlarged, the arts of living made more easy and
comfortable and of course the increase and happiness of mankind promoted,
knowledge then becomes really useful. That this Society therefore may in some
degree answer the ends of its institution the members propose to confine their
disquisitions principally to such subjects as tend to the improvement of their
country and the advancement of its interest and prosperity.

The writer of this salutatory fondly hoped that America would in
time come to possess much likeness in the wealth of its industries to
China. It lay in the same latitude as China and our climate was like
the Chinese climate. "Could we be so fortunate," said the American
Philosophical Society, " as to introduce the industry of the Chinese,
their arts of living and improvements in husbandry, as well as their
native plants, America might in time become as populous as China
which is allowed to contain more inhabitants than any other country
of the same extent in the world." To England no less than to her
colonies the philanthropic work of the Society should make appeal,
' for if by these means the continental colonies can supply her with the
rarities of China and her islands can furnish the rich spices of the East
Indies her merchants will no longer be obliged in order to obtain these
to traverse three quarters of the globe, encounter the difficulties of so
tedious a voyage and after all submit to the insolence and exorbitant de-
mands of foreigners.'

The trees in the wood and the bushes by the roadside were full of
possibilities for these philosophers so young in scientific investigation.
The persimmon and the sassafras trees, the sumach, the leaves of which
the Indians mixed with their tobacco, 'to render it more aromatic and
agreeable in smoking,' and many trees and plants it was surmised might
yield mankind drugs and dyes and other useful products. Great store

FRANKLIN'S PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.

433

was laid by the experience of the Indians and many of their secrets the
philosophers hoped to gather from them for the common benefit of man.
The hopes of many protectionists of a later time who have labored
strenuously to encourage the development of native industries were
anticipated by the Philosophical Society. Its members early had a care
for the silkworm and the mulberry tree. Franklin sounded the note
in a letter written in 1770, and the venerable Peter S. Duponceau, long
the president of the society, a distinguished law}^er and philologist who
in his youth came hither from France to serve Baron von Steuben as
his private secretary during the Revolutionary war, carried on exten-
sive experiments in silkworm culture at his own expense. The Penn-
sylvania Assembly was asked to pass a bill establisliing a public fila-
ture in Philadelphia. Eggs were to be distributed and bounties paid
for a term of years to the most successful producers of the cocoon.

Building of the American Philosophical Society.

While the philosophers were not able to convince the legislature that
public duty lay in this direction, a private association to encourage
silkworm propagation was afterward organized under the auspices of
the Society and it received £1,000 from the Pennsylvania Assembly
in furtherance of its ends.

The wine grape also greatly appealed to the interest of the Society,
which made a collection of receipts for the manufacture of wine for-
warded to it by farmers and other colonists who had had experience
of the vine in America. The uncleared land was well covered with
wild vines, and it was assumed that by a little experimentation the
colonies could be made to yield wine fruit abundantly.

vol.. LX. — 28.

434

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

In 1791 Dr. Eush thought he saw in the maple the future source
of the world's sugar supply. This benevolent man hoped that the
growth of the tree might be generally extended. " I cannot help con-
templating a sugar maple tree with a species of affection and even vener-
ation," said the great advocate of emancipation, " for I have persuaded
myself to behold in it the happy means of rendering the commerce
and slavery of our African brethren in the sugar islands as unnecessary
as it has always been inhuman and unjust."

Place of Meeting in the Building of the Society.

Accounts of many interesting things crowd the early records of
the Society. Franklin himself while coming home from France on
his last tedious voyage diverted himself in calm weather by writing his
famous letter ' on the causes and cure of smoky chimneys,' which he
tells us are chimneys that instead of ' carrying up all the smoke dis-
charge a part of it into the room, offending the eyes and damaging
the furniture.' He also describes a new stove for burning pit coal,
while Thomas Jefferson's interest in husbandry is evidenced by his

FRANKLIN'S PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY. 435

model of ' a hand threshing machine,' invented by a A^irginian, and
his communication in regard to a new plowshare.

Natural history had many enthusiastic students. America was a
great boneyard which before the fertilizer companies despatched their
agents everywhere afforded much that was of curious concern to natural-
ists. Skeletons of strange animals, tusks, antlers and ' grinders ' came
pouring into the Society's museum. Jefferson described ^ certain bones
of a qiiadruped of the clawed kind' found in western Virginia. Another
member put into print an Indian legend about ' the big naked bear.'
Without offering any of its bones in evidence, he tells us that the bear,
naked all over except for a spot of white hair upon its back, was the most
ferocious of American animals. It devoured man and beast and was
so large that an Indian or a common bear served it for but a single
meal. Its heart was so small that the arrow could seldom find it. It
could be slain only by a blow deftly dealt upon its backbone, and many
who went forth to hunt this terror of the forest primeval never came
back again.

Other philosophers interested themselves in living objects and we
have luminous accounts of ' amphibious serpents,' ' one partridge with
two hearts,' ' the numb-fish or torporific eel ' and ' a living snake in a
living horse's eye.' This horse had been placed on exhibition in Phila-
delphia by a free negro, who undertook to profit by the popular curiosity
for disagreeable sights.

The Society early engaged itself in a scientific work which brought
it wide recognition, and quite deservedly so. Already in 1768 Professor
Ewing made a report to the philosophers in regard to an impending
transit of Venus which it had been calculated would occur in the summer
of the following year. Before that time the phenomenon had been ob-
served only twice and then rather partially, the first time in 1639 and
again in 1761. A reflecting telescope was imported from England
through Franklin's kindly intercession. The day when it arrived
proved to be perfectly clear, and the observations were so well made
and were recorded in so scientific a manner that the Society at once
gained a high reputation among men whose good opinion it was worth
while to possess. An eminent authority in Europe at that time wrote
of this achievement:

The first approximately accurate results in the measurement of the
spheres were given to the world not by the schooled and salaried astronomers
who watched from the magnificent royal observatories of Europe, but by unpaid
amateurs and devotees to science in the youthful province of Pennsylvania.

Almost simultaneously with this manifestation of the seriousness
of its mind came a proposal from the Society to undertake the surveys
for a canal which should be cut to join the Chesapeake and Delaware
bays. To make possible this laudable work the philosophers asked the

436 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

merchants of Philadelphia to subscribe to a fund. They responded
very liberally, and the Society at one time had as many as fifteen persons
in its service taking levels and making surveys upon the various routes.

* { ; -I . *

;,.^,>, . y^^-^y-^- ^^^-^ 5^.^.«^ ^^^ ^'- I
': ^^:^,d^. ..>^p«--^-' y^^^-^j,^, ^

VA ^ ^ -^ :...../^- ^^- A-— -^ -'-' '

.Xt f/^-^^-^ ^^^9^. ^y.^;^ ..^^/.^..■'■■^

^;^r ^^~ t^^U>^ —

'/xryz^

r i44V -^^^^^ ^^ ^.#^ - ^^^- /tX^-^

• - ''^-j

Autobiographical Letter of Benjamin Franklin on the Organization of the
American Philosophical Society.

When the philosophy of the eighteenth century was at last broken
up into parts and was followed by the special sciences, the Society
suffered intellectually of course. It has not been able to make a choice

FBAyKLIX'S FHILOSOPFIICAL SOCIETY. 437

of beut. In the 158 years of its existence it has published about 65
volumes of proceedings which attest to the catholicity of its interest.
Divergencies of mind in the nature of the case must prevent that sym-
path}' and congeniality which formerly existed in the membership.
The Society's publications, however, are reference books for much of the
excellent work done in recent years by some of the most indefatigable
of American scientists, such as Leidy, Brinton, Lesley and Cope.

The Society's collections include many old prints, documents and
manuscripts, the library being particularly rich in Frankliniana. The
rooms are hung with oil portraits of the Society's presidents and of
distinguished members. Sully's Jefferson, Peale's copy of Martin's
Franklin, Peale's Eittenhouse, Stuart's Washington, Sully's Wistar
and Eush and busts of Franklin, Lafayette, Condorcet, Turgot, Cuvier,
Eittenhouse, Provost Smith and many other eminent members of a
former day are to be seen in this little treasure house, so full of colonial
memories. Most of the specimens of natural history, the old models
and the like have been distributed among the museums where they can
be more freely used by students. But the principal trophies still re-
main, such as Franklin's chair, a curious leather-covered construction
stuffed with hair in which he used to sit when the Society met at his
home in his last days.

Another chair in the hall is the famous Jefferson chair. It is a
quaint squat chair with an arm as broad as a table and it is upon this
arm that Jefferson is said to have written the Declaration of Independ-
ence, an original autograph draft of which reposes in the Society's
fireproof. The chair turns round by means of some awkward, clanking
machinery which exists inside it, and it is a curiosity worth stopping
to view. One of the high Eittenhouse clocks which still keeps time
inside its old pine case, the theodolite with which Penn laid out the
city of Philadelphia, an old cell battery used by Franklin in making
his electrical experiments and other interesting apparatus have come
down to the Philosopliical Society from a hoary past.

It now aims to invigorate its members with a new sense of their re-
sponsibilities. On Mr. Fraley's death General Isaac J. Wistar, a
nephew of Caspar Wistar, who was the Society's president in 1815-18,
was elected to the president's chair, and it is proposed that a general
meeting shall be held at least once a year to promote social intercourse
and for the presentation of papers on scientific subjects. The meeting
this year has been fixed for Easter week in the city of Philadelphia, and
arrangements are in progress for the reception and entertainment of
the members who are expected to gather there from all parts of the
country on that interesting occasion.

ALPHEUS HYATT.

ALPHEUS HYATT. 439

ALPHEUS HYATT.

Bv Pkoi-essor W. H. DALL.

T N the death of Professor Alpheus Hyatt, of Cambridge, philosophical
-*- zoology in America has sustained a loss only second to that which
was involved in the death of Cope.

Alpheus Hyatt was born in the city of Washington, District of
Columbia, April 5, 1838. He was a scion of an old and honored Mary-
land family; from whom the suburban village of Hyattsville, near
Washington, took its name ; and which is still well represented in Balti-
more. He lost his father early but his mother survived to a venerable
age, dying in Washington hardly more than a year before her son.

Young Hyatt was a pupil of the Maryland Military Academy, sub-
sequently entering the class of 1860 at Yale, but after the Freshman
year he left the college for a year's travel in Europe. In 1858 he went
to Harvard as a student of Louis Agassiz, in the Museum of Compara-
tive Zoology, entering the Lawrence Scientific School from which he
finally graduated in 1862. During the war of the Rebellion he served
in the Forty-seventh Massachusetts volunteer regiment and left the
army with the rank of captain, subsequently taking up post-graduate
studies in Germany. In 1867 he married Miss Andella Beebe, of Vala-
tia, New York, and became a curator in the celebrated Essex Institute
of Salem, Mass., in which so many of the naturalists and historical
writers of the last half century found at one time or another a con-
genial environment. About that time a particularly large group of
workers was located in or about Salem, and in connection with Morse,
Packard and Putnam, all ex-pupils of Agassiz, Hyatt took part in
founding the Peabody Academy of Sciences in Salem. These four nat-
uralists for some years formed its scientific staff, and by them, with
the help of Scudder and others, the American Naturalist was started on
its career of usefulness.

In 1870 Hyatt was elected custodian and, in 1881, curator, of the
Boston Society of Natural History, at the same time, and for some
years subsequently, serving as professor of zoology and paleontolog}' at
the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in Boston. He also had
charge, up to the time of his death, of the important collection of in-
vertebrate fossils in the Museum of Comparative Zoology, and was one
of the collaborators of the United States Geological Survey in its field
work and paleontological researches.

440 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Not content with personal devotion to research, Hyatt always felt it
a duty to communicate as far as possible to other students and teach-
ers the knowledge he had gained, which might render them capable
not only of doing better educational work, but of themselves entering
the ranks of the little army of investigators. This led him to make
cruises in a small vessel with a crew of selected students, even as far east
as the maritime provinces of Canada, and to the establishment at
Annisquam of a summer laboratory for the study of marine life by
teachers and students of zoology. Tliis has now been superseded by
more extensive and subsidized summer schools, called for by the great
increase of interest in such studies, but, for some years, with no official
support or collegiate subvention, Annisquam led the way. Similarly,
aided by an association of friends of science, largely inspired by him-
self, Hyatt was instrumental in starting the Teacher's School of Science
at the rooms of the Boston Society of Natural History, contributing
by supervision, lectures and the preparation of science primers a great
part of the elements of its success.

Hyatt was one of the originators and the first President of the Amer-
ican Society of Naturalists, an association of professional workers in
zoology and botany which meets annually for exchange of ideas and
methods and the promotion of acquaintance and good-will among its
members. His labors for the promotion of science and for thor-
ough research were universally appreciated among his fellow-workers,
though not of the sort which leads to personal advertisement or miscella-
neous popularity. Scientific men everywhere recognized his merit. He
was elected a member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences
at Boston in 1869, In 1875 he became a member of the National
Academy of Sciences. Brown University in 1898 gave him the degree
of LL.D. and he was a correspondent of many foreign learned societies.

In the line of research Hyatt devoted his attention chiefly to inver-
tebrate animals. Among his early papers was a contribution to the
report on an expedition in which Verrill and others joined for the ex-
ploration of the Island of Anticosti, which, wrapped in fogs and beaten
by tempestuous surges, had been almost untrodden by scientific men.
Hyatt reported on certain remarkable fossils of the paleozoic rocks of
the island. A memoir on some fresh-water polyzoa, illustrated by
exquisite drawings and characterized by thoroughness and finish on its
scientific side, attracted much attention. A paper on the evolutionary
progress, illustrated by the Tertiary forms of Planorlis at Steinheim,
as they occur in successive lake beds at that well-known German locality,
pointed to the principles to the elucidation of which a large part of his
scientific career was devoted. A memoir on the commercial sponges of
North America received high encomiums from foreign naturalists as a
model treatise on a particularly difficult subject. A very suggestive

ALPHEUS HYATT. 44i

contribution to philosophical ontogeny was his 'Theory of Cellular. tis-
sues' which appeared in 1885. The group upon which most of his labor
was spent and in the discussion of which he was recognized as facile
princeps, is that of the tetrabranchiate cephalopods, popularly known
as ammonites, which in early geological ages attained such a marvelous
development. More than in many other mollusks the organization of
the ammonite is reflected in the characters of the shell and the infancv,
maturity and decline of the group to which it belongs is, to the qualified
student, pictured in the characteristics of the successive portions of the
lustrous coil of the fossil shell. By removing successive portions of
these involving symmetrical whorls, the characters of the animal, from
the larval stages to senile decay, may be unfolded. Hyatt's researches
among these animals set the pace for the most eminent students of the
group throughout the scientific world, and his most important publica-
tions were devoted to them. With an audience of perhaps a dozen
living men who were fully qualified to appreciate the minutiae of his
studies, it was not likely that their value could be popularly estimated.
But the principles worked out were of far-reaching importance for the
students of evolution everywhere, and will bear fruit in the future. A
series of similar evolutionary studies of the land shells of the Hawaiian
Islands was nearly completed at the time of his death.

Hyatt's studies of evolution, in geologic time, as well as on existing
animals, led him to what are sometimes called Neo-Lamarckian con-
clusions. He believed in the hereditary transmission of acquired char-
acters, and, in one case at least, proved their transmission. In com-
mon with Cope and the majority of American zoologists who have not
derived their prepossessions from exotic teachers, he pursued the ideas
of Lamarck and Darwin to their logical conclusion, as revealed in the
genetic history of the animals he studied, and added to them a body of
evolutionary philosophy with which all schools will have to reckon.

Leaving a subject which verges on the present conflict of scien-
tific theories, it remains to say a few words, all too inadequate, on the
man whom we have lost. No one who had the privilege of Hyatt's
acquaintance but will' join in testimony to his high-minded scientific
integrity; the infectiousness of his hearty enthusiasm; the fertility of
his imagination, which yet was always controlled by constant reference
to experience and observation ; and the general atmosphere of good fel-
lowship which he diffused. Unpretentious, open-minded, a constant
example of clean living, high thinking, and unassuming kindness to
all about him, an ideal husband and father, a steadfast friend ; we shall
not soon look upon his like again.

Professor Hyatt leaves a widow, a son and two daughters, whom
the sympathy of his colaborers in two hemispheres may in some slight
degree sustain under the consciousness of their common loss.

442 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

SUICIDAL FANATICISM IN EUSSIA.

By Professor W. G. SUMNER,

YALE UNIVERSITY.

IN 1897 reports ran through the newspapers of the civilized world
that a religious sect in southern Eussia had begun to practise
suicide from religious motives. In June of that year Mr. I. A.
Sigorski, professor of psychiatry and nerve diseases in the university at
Kieff, visited the scene of the transactions in order to make a psy-
chological investigation of them. The following account is derived
from his book.*

The scene was in the rich valley of the Dniester, in a cluster of
farmsteads near the village of Ternova, three or three and a half
English miles from Tiraspol. The family of KovalefO and its connec-
tions owned several of these farmsteads. The one at which the events
occurred was a valuable estate which belonged to a family of that
name who were Old Believers (Easkolniks^schismatics) . On the estate
was a building which presented, on the outside, the appearance of a
carriage shed with large doors. In fact there was no opening at all on
that side. On the inside a pile of straw and reeds masked the entire
exterior of the building and joined the roof, so that it looked like a
solid store of those commodities, but behind this pile was a corridor
which gave entrance to the building. There was another corridor
inside by .which connection was established with the main residence.
This building was a refuge and more or less permanent residence for
Old Believers of both sexes when on a journey, or old, or ill or perse-
cuted. The name of it is a 'skeet.' It had been so used for a century,
and the construction shows that the inmates lived in gloom and
secrecy, apprehending danger and violence, and prepared to flee
through the concealed passages in one direction or the other. They
went oiit only by night, or singly, and as secretly as possible. Their
favorite occupations were prayer, reading the books of their sect and
religious conversation. In these observances the Kovaleff family
joined with great interest.

In the autumn of 1896, for some reason which is not definitely
known, the inmates of the skeet were thrown into excitement. lielics

* ' The Epidemic of Voluntary Death and Suicide in the Farmsteads of
Ternova'; republished from the journal 'Problems of Nervo-Psyehic Medicine.'
Kieff, 1897. 99 pp. (In Puss.)

SUICIDAL FANATICISM IN RUSSIA. 443

of a Eussian saint having been found, the whole state church underwent
a revival of religious enthusiasm, in which the schismatics did not
share, and which they had nothing to offset. One explanation of the
later proceedings is that there was a desire to create a 'holy place' for
the Old Believers. The head of the estate at that time was M.-idanie
Kovaleff, and the head of the skeet was a woman named Vitalia. The
former was an elderly lady, in easy circumstances, simple-minded and
benevolent. The latter was 35 or 40 years old, energetic, decided,
fanatical, narrow-minded and bigoted. She led and ruled the whole
establishment. She practised austerities (or pretended to), read re-
ligious books, and interpreted what little she heard of the outside
world by the absurdly ignorant and wrong-headed notions of the sect.
These facts about her account for her influence. She and one or two
of her intimates began to talk of persecution, war, enforced military
service and the end of the world. The Old Believers were to be exiled
or imprisoned. It was agreed, in this community, that, if they were
imprisoned, they would starve themselves. Tlien, however, a new
cause of anxiety arose; what would become of their children? They
thought that these would be forcibly baptized in the state church, and
such a consequence filled them with dismay.

After Christmas there were rumors that a new national census was
to be taken with registration for military service. Vitalia declared
that war was imminent, that Anti-Christ was about to appear. .Regis-
tration was the seal of Anti-Christ and damnation. It would be far
better to die at once by voluntary starvation and so escape all these
terrors and persecutions. A girl of thirteen years, acting no doubt on
suggestion from Vitalia, first spoke of voluntary interment. She said:
'In prison they will torture and kill us. It would be better to bury
ourselves.' Her mother replied : 'Your idea is good. I agree with you.'
The only able-bodied man who could dig a large hole was Theodore
Kovaleff, son of the Madame Kovaleif above mentioned. His wife took
up the idea of voluntary burial, l^eferring to the fear that children,
if left behind, would be educated in the state church, she pressed her
babe to her breast and said: 'I cannot give him up to damnation. I
would rather go into the burial pit with him.' Vitalia warmly ap-
proved this sentiment. Theodore opposed the project, but his mother
favored it, partly on his account, lest he should lose his faith under
torture in' prison. Vitalia taught that as many drops as there are in
the rain so many years of torture are there in hell for the unfaithful,
]jut the faithful would suffer only two or three days in the burial-pit,
and then enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.

There was some scruple about suicide in the minds of some mem-
bers of the group. Voluntary death they considered different. The

444 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

traditions of the sect for two hundred years contain tales of self-
immolation by burning, drowning, burying, sometimes by hundreds at
once, as forms of voluntary death, to escape from persecution or the
coercion of the state whose laws they resisted. When the census agents
came to the door of the skeet a document in archaic form and language
was handed out as the sole reply. It read as follows: "We are Chris-
tians. We are not allowed to adopt any new things, and we cannot con-
sent to register our names and places of abode over and over again.
Christ takes the place to us of all things ; therefore of name and coun-
try. Your new institution and your census list "\fould alienate us from
Christ, and from true Christian faith, and would lead us to the re-
nunciation of our fatherland, for our fatherland is Christ. Our Lord
speaks to us by his Holy Gospel. Our Lord says to His disciples:
'Every one who confesses me before men will I confess before my Father
in Heaven, but every one who denies me before men will I deny before
my Father in Heaven.' Therefore we answer you briefly but decidedly
that we will not deny our Lord Jesus Christ, and that we are not
willing to forsake the orthodox faith, or the Holy Synods, or the
Apostolic Church. What the Holy Fathers accepted in the Holy
Synods that we also accept, but what the Holy Fathers and the Holy
Apostles rejected and anathematized that we also reject and anathe-
matize. We can never consent to sin as we should by obeying your new
laws. We prefer to die for Christ."

The first interment took place in the night of December 23, in a
cellar or subterranean vault adjoining the farmhouse of one member of
the sect. A 'mine' was dug to connect it with the cellar of the building.
The vault was about 13 feet square and 5i^ feet high in the middle.
After religious services, those who were to be buried put on the grave
clothes of the sect. Nine persons entered the vault, a man of 45, his
wife of 40, his daughter aged 13, the wife of Theodore Kovaleff, aged
23, and her two children, one aged three years, the other an infant, a
woman of 35, and an old man of 70. The first named man inside and
Theodore Kovaleff outside closed the entrance with earth and stones.
The buried persons had with them candles, sacred books and sacred
image-pictures.

The second burial was made on the night of December 27. About
a mile from the place of the first burial there was an excavation which
had J^een made for a house. At one corner of this a horizontal 'bottle-
shaped' hole was made by Theodore. Six were entombed here, of
whom three were children, seven, four and two years old. One man
and his wife disagreed about joining the party. He took their two-year-
old daughter and went in. His wife became a mother again imme-
diately afterwards. Another man in this party was a disreputable and

SUICIDAL FANATICISM IN RUSSIA.

445

abandoned drunkard and loafer. He was led to enter by the will of
his mother and sister, not by his own. It appears almost certain that
the second party did not know of the interment of the first party.
Vitalia enforced strict secrecy.

On the, 5th of February Vitalia and six others were arrested on a
formal charge of not having passports, in coifnection with their refusal
to comply with the census and registration. When imprisoned they all
refused to eat or drink. They refused all gifts of food, saying that
their religion required them to earn their subsistence entirely by the
labor of their own hands. They persisted in this course for four days,
and it appears that they would have committed suicide in this way, but

Theodoke Kovaleif.

they were released and put under house arrest with police supervision.
Some rumor of the interments got out and the excitement in the
sect grew more intense, being mixed with doubt and some uncertainty
as to the right of what had been done. On the night of February 12
the third party was buried. It consisted of four women who entreated
Theodore to dig the grave for them. He did so and lifted his sister
down into it, she being too weak from the recent prison starvation to
descend into it. I'his was a large grave. The women lay close together
at the bottom. Theodore threw the earth first on their feet, then on

446

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

their bodies, and at last on their heads, and trampled it down. He
stated afterwards that he heard no soimd from them during the opera-
tion.

The misgivings at what had been done affected Madame Kovalefl:
and Vitalia differently. The former was sad and doubtful, and felt the
responsibility. The latter felt that she must die, and she wanted to
die with glory. She was anxious to persuade Madame Kovaleff to die
with her. She feared all forms of death except the slow death of
starvation. She set the fourth and last act of interment to include

Theodore Kovaleff.

herself, for February 21st. The refusal of one old man in the skeet
caused a postponement until the 28th. At that time the estate was
surrounded by water on account of the spring rise of the Dniester. The
police guard left, taking the boats with them, since the people could
not escape. An opportunity was thus offered for the fourth interment.
Theodore and his half-witted brother, Dimitri, dug a kind of niche in
the cellar wall of the house in which the first interment took place. It
was 4I/2 feet long, 8 feet wide, and not over 2 feet high. Madame
Kovaleff, her son Dimitri, Vitalia, and two of the latter's most intimate
confidants crept into this space, bending their heads and drawing up
their feet. Theodore replaced the cellar wall. All were in great terror
and confusion of mind. The total number who met death was 25.

SUICIDAL FANATICISM IN RUSSIA. 447

Great interest attaches to Theodore Kovaleff. He was the most re-
sponsible person in the whole party. He never assented to or believed
in any of the ideas and plans. He was the agent of the whole trans-
action. By his hands his wife, children, sister, mother and brother
died. He did what he was told to do. Vitalia's final orders to Mm
were not to eat or drink, but to await the end of the world which would
come in a day or two. He held out four days; then as there was no
war, as no one came to take him to prison, and the world did not end,
he began to eat. When the facts became known and he was questioned,
he said that they did not thinlv they could go wrong in obeying Vitalia,
because she fasted, prayed, read good books, etc., and he repeated the
question: 'Why was there no one to set us right?' His portraits,
which are here reproduced, show that he is a stupid and ignorant but
harmless peasant. The face portrait shows an expression of anxiety
and distress, as of a man who finds himself in a situation which he
can not understand. In the full-length picture which represents him
in the costume of a monk of the Old Believers, his face shows more of
the mild melancholy which, as Sigorski tells us, was one of the traits of
his character.

The reports of the existence of a sect, one of whose religious prin-
ciples is suicide, prove to be unfounded. The religious element in the
affair was small and remote. The Old Believers have fallen into an
attitude towards society and the state which is traditional and false,
although not without some historical explanation and excuse. They
are under the dominion of fixed ideas and live in a seclusion and igno-
rance which cause them to take a false position towards all their sur-
roundings. They fear imaginary enemies and unreal dangers. Their
extreme ignorance of the world causes them to adopt crazy projects for
meeting enemies and dangers. All this nourishes fanaticism and
bigotry up to the stage of insanity. Then there are traditions of the
extravagant behavior of their ancestors in the sect to suggest for imita-
tion models of right and noble action. When a man is at hand of
feeble character and stupid submissiveness to act as the agent of the
half-insane fanatics all the elements and conditions of the tragedy are
provided.

448 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE DIFFEEENTIATION OF THE HUMAK SPECIES.

By Professor LINDLEY M. KEASBEY,
bryn mawr college.

ZOOLOGICALLY considered, the human race constitutes a single
^-^ species which has in tlie course 'of time become subdivided into
a number of ethnic varieties. Scientifically speaking, this differentia-
tion of the human species into ethnic stocks is an instance of organic
variation, and, as such, subject to biological interpretation. Applying
the general principles of organic evolution to the particular case, ethnic
differentiation may, accordingly, be regarded as the result of environ-
mental agencies operating through the process of selection upon the
attribute of variability inherent in the anthropoid line.

Eecent paleontological evidence renders it reasonably certain that
mankind was homogeneous before the ice-age, and that heterogeneity
entered in during the glacial period. It may be taken for granted,
therefore, that the first stages of ethnic differentiation were established
by the great geographic changes that occurred at this time. As the
ice-sheets advanced successively from the arctic and antarctic regions
and the thermal equator oscillated at long intervals about the geo-
graphical equator, the climate of the northern and southern hemi-
spheres alternated between equable and frigid conditions, and the
surface of the earth was modified accordingly. Thus so long as the
ice-age lasted, the human race was subjected to the influences of a
varying environment. Upon the final retreat of the glaciers, the con-
figuration of the earth gradually assumed its historic form and the
globe became divided as at present into temperature zones. After this,
time introduced no further changes in the general geographic condi-
tions, but place peculiarities became permanently established and
regions of the earth differed from each other in climate and topog-
raphy. So instead of the human race being affected as before by a
varying environment, varied environments henceforth influenced dif-
ferent portions of mankind. The effect of these varying and varied
environments was first to alter, and then to diversify, the conditions
of human survival. This necessitated adaptation on man's part, which
in turn led to the differentiation of the human species; so that by
the close of the glacial period heterogeneity was established where
homogeneity had previously prevailed.

Owing to the numerous instances of migration and miscegenation
that have occurred since the ice-age, the ramifications of race are now-

THE HUMAN SPECIES. 449

adays extremely complex. Looking from above downward, it is con-
sequently difficult to define the lines of ethnic division with any
accuracy. The analytical method furnishes sufficient distinctions, how-
ever, to establish a general classification of humanity. Taking the
shape of the skull, the texture of the hair, the pigment of the skin and
general structural characters into account, etlinographers have con-
cluded that there are four elementary divisions of mankind, Icnown
particularly as the Negro or Black race, the Mongolic or Yellow race,
the Caucasic or White race and the American or Ked race.

Looking from below upward, it is out of the question, of course,
to follow the lines of racial ramification chronologically. But though
the time factor fails for the most part, the place element can usually
be determined with considerable accuracy. Ethnic consequents can,
accordingly, be connected in each instance with their geographic an-
tecedents, and the outcome of the interaction between variability and
environment set forth in some detail. Thus though it is out of the
question to establish the chronological sequence exactly, by supple-
menting the analytical with the geographical method of enquiry, it
should at least be possible to indicate the general order of racial rami-
fication and determine under what environmental conditions the ethnic
differentiation of mankind took place.

Corresponding to the fourfold ethnic division of the human race,
there are four more or less distinctly defined geographic sections of
the globe. Three of these racial regions radiate from Indo-Malaysia,
the cradle-land of manlvind; the fourth is situated on the opposite
side of the earth, though connected in the far north with the
continental area of the eastern hemisphere. Considering the situa-
tion somewhat more in detail, the four habitats may be defined as
follows: Toward the south, the Indo-Malaysian abode borders upon
what we may call the 'eastern-equatorial section,' which stretches out
between the tropics from the west coast of Africa, across the partially
submerged Indo- African continent, to Melanesia and Australia. This
intertropical belt has from time immemorial been the abode of the
Negro or Black race. North of the Indo-Malaysian cradle-land lies
the vast 'Asiatic section' of the eastern hemisphere, which is sepa-
rated from the southern peninsulas by the Himalayan line, except along
the Pacific coast where passage to the north is possible between the
longitudinal ranges of Cochin- China. This continental area is the
traditional abode of the Mongols or Yellow people. Between the equa-
torial belt and the Asiatic area, the 'Indo-Mediterranean-European
section' spreads out towards the west from Indo-Malaysia to the At-
lantic coast of the continent. This peninsular portion of the eastern
hemisphere is the historical home of the White man, the field for the
development of what we are in the habit of calling Caucasian civiliza-

VOL. LX. — 29.

45° POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tion. On the opposite side of the globe the western hemisphere points
south between the two seas.

Having located the four races in their respective habitats, we should
next determine how each racial region was originally occupied, and
then note the ethnic effects produced by geographic peculiarities.

The human species was differentiated from the other anthropoids
within Indo-Malaysia, where the climate was moist and warm and the
surface of the ground covered with a tropical forest growth. Such
were the surroundings that impressed themselves upon primeval man
and established the original type. These conditions were continued on
either side of the cradle-land toward the south along the equatorial
belt of the eastern hemisphere, which then stretched uninterruptedly
from the west coast of Africa, across the now partially submerged Indo-
African continent, into Melanesia and Australia. The shifting of the
thermal equator north and south of the geographical equator no doubt
caused the climate of this intertropical belt to vary slightly during
the ice-age ; but after the final retreat of the glaciers no further changes
occurred; so that, ever since, the environmental conditions of the east-
ern-equatorial region have remained to all intents and purposes the
same as they were in tertiary times. The Negro descendants of the
original inhabitants of these parts have thus been subjected since time
immemorial to somewhat the same external influences as impressed
themselves upon primeval man. It is natural, therefore, that the
blacks should conserve the conspicuous characteristics of the ape-like
ancestor and resemble the human prototype more closely than any other
people. Ethnically the Negroes are considered the lowest of the four
races of man; while geographically they may be characterized as the
children of the tropical forest. There are, to be sure, minor differ-
ences among them, arising from different lines of heredity, variations
of environment, migration and miscegenation; so that from the primi-
tive Pygmy people living in the recesses of the tropical forest, the line
of ethnic evolution may be traced through the pure Negroes, who
occupy the central equatorial belt, to the mixed Negroid types which
have come into contact with other races on the borders of the region.
But despite these differences the Blacks may still be regarded as eth-
nically similar and grouped together under one racial category; for, if
we confine ourselves to general characteristics, the typical Negro can
readily be distinguished from his human fellows by his black skin ; his
short curly hair, which is flat in cross section ; his long head with pro-
truding jaws, his flat foot, his broad nose and his round black eyes.

The rest of the races of mankind were differentiated within the
northern hemisphere. Being affected from the first by the var3dng
environment of the glacial era, these northern emigrants were in-
fluenced bv different conditions from those to which their ancestors

TEE HUMAN SPECIES. 451

had become accustomed in the Indo-Malaysian abode. Furthermore,
upon the final retreat of the ice the people of the north became marked
off from the inhabitants of the south by climate bounds. Regarded
collectively, therefore, ]\Iongols, Caucasians and Americans alike may
be distinguished from the tropical Negroes as products of the temper-
ate zone. The several stocks that migrated northward from the Indo-
Malaysian abode were, however, separated from each other from the
start by the mountain barriers and open seas that intervened between
the different lines of march. Thus though subjected to somewhat the
same climatic conditions during the period of dispersion, upon set-
tling in their respective habitats, the geographic groups were influenced
by different surroundings. As a result, ethnic diversity was established
along the northern latitudes, and the three temperate races became
separated from one another by topographic differences. Taking
this as our clue we may go back again to the original point of de-
parture and follow the several lines of northerly dispersion in detail.

As was indicated above, the Indo-Malaysian cradle-land is cut off
from the Asiatic area by the Himalayan line. Passage was possible,
however, between the longitudinal ranges of Cochin-China, and, judg-
ing from the remains that have recently been discovered in this moun-
tainous region, it is probable that primeval man proceeded northward
along these lines during the interglacial epochs. The effect of the
Himalayan barrier was, therefore, not so much to prevent migration
into the continental area, as to shut the Asiatic immigrants in, and
separate them from the inhabitants of the south. Those that remained
in this region — Mongols in the forming — must, accordingly, have been
subjected for long ages to the influences of their own surroundings.

This Asiatic area is not characterized by any such uniformity as
the eastern equatorial region, but as nature has operated here upon so
stupendous a scale, there is still a certain sameness in the salient fea-
tures of the environment. Speaking generally, Asia is a continental
territory, made up for the most part of bleak plateaux and deforested
steppes. Such at least were the prevailing conditions which impressed
themselves upon the majority of the original inhabitants and con-
stituted the basic type. The Mongolians may thus be regarded as the
product of temperate plains, much as the Negroes were considered to be
the children of the tropical forest.

Here as elsewhere, however, variations from the characteristic en-
vironment made for corresponding modifications of the normal ethnic
type. Being of such enormous extent and cut off on two sides from
the sea, the climate of the Asiatic section is predominantly continental.
Nevertheless, as the region stretches from the Arctic circle to the tropic
of Cancer, and rises in altitude from 100 feet below to 25,000 feet
above sea-level, there is naturally a wide range of temperature within

452 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

its borders. Topographically, the Asiatic section is dominated on the
south by the Tibetan table-land, culminating in the Pamir region,
called the 'roof of the world,' from which the land falls off rather
abruptly on the west, and more gradually toward the north and east
to the level of the sea. The bleak plateaux are thus succeeded by
grassy plains and deforested steppes, which in turn are bordered by a
comparatively narrow Tiaga, or wooded belt, extending to the Arctic
Tundra and in places to the Pacific shore. The heart of the continent
contains deserts and enclosed seas, while the surrounding lands are
furrowed by forest-bordered streams flowing to the north, and by more
open rivers of uncertain course draining toward the east. In conse-
quence of these climatic and topographic differences, the Mongolic race
has in the course of time become subdivided into a number of geo-
graphic groups. There are plateaux people, desert folk and steppe tribes,
forest dwellers and typical Hyperboreans, and the settled inhabitants
of the eastern valleys. Migration has moreover been succeeded by
miscegenation, so that the lines of heredity and environment have be-
come confused. Withal, however, enough Mongolian traits have per-
sisted everywhere over the region, and during all the centuries that
have elapsed since the original type was constituted, to allow us to
set the Yellow people in a separate racial category, and distinguish the
typical Mongol from his human fellows by his round head with high
cheek-bones; the texture and pigment of his skin; his coarse straight
hair, which is cylindrical in cross section; his thin colorless lips; and
his small oblique black eyes.

South of the Himalayan line the peninsular portion of the old world
spreads out like a fan from the Indo-Malaysian cradle-land to the
Atlantic coast of the continent. On the east, the Indian section of
this territory is connected with the equatorial region through the south-
ern peninsulas, which once formed part of the Indo- African continent;
but cut off from the Asiatic area by the lofty Himalayan range. On
the west the conditions are reversed, the Mediterranean and European
sections of this territory being cut off from the equatorial region by
the Sahara, and connected with the Asiatic area through what is
called the open gateway of the east, lying between the Ural mountains
and the Caspian sea. There was access to the Indo-Mediterranean-
European section, therefore, from two sides ; from the equatorial region
on the southeast, and from the Asiatic area on the northwest. The
ancestry of the so-called Caucasians can accordingly be traced back to
two sources. From the southeast, dolichocephalic Negroids pushed
westward from Indo-Africa into the Mediterranean region and over-
ran Europe in very early times. Somewhat later successive streams
of brachycephalic Asiatics poured in through the open gateway of the
east and mingled with the primitive inhabitants of these parts. From

THE HUMAN SPECIES. 453

the standpoint of heredity, therefore, the White people constitute a
derived race, combining Negro and Mongolic affinities. For the rest,
however, they are the products of their peculiar surroundings.

Unlike the other two regions, the peninsular portion of the old
world contains an almost infinite variety of environments. With its
apex in the subtropics, this triangular territory stretches out towards
the northwest across the warm temperate, temperate and cold temper-
ate zones, and consequently offers a series of climate transitions with-
out striking contrasts. Topographically also the Indo-Mediterranean-
European region is diversified throughout with deforested and forested
river valleys, indented sea-shores, deserts, plains and steppes, alps and
mountains, woodlands and dales, heaths and downs — in fact, with
pretty nearly all the varied features the surface of the earth affords.
On account of this diversity of environmental conditions, it is difficult
to characterize the Indo-Mediterranean-European region as a whole.
Negatively, at least, it may be distinguished from the equatorial belt
by its temperature, and from the Asiatic area by its topography. Con-
sidered positively, its oceanic climate and its peninsular structure con-
stitute its most striking characteristics. It should furthermore be
noticed that the region is subdivided into three interconnected sec-
tions: The Indian section, which proceeds by insensible steps out of
the eastern-equatorial region; the European section, which opens out
of the Asiatic area; and the Mediterranean section, lying between,
which combines the characteristics of the other two sections, and still
possesses certain peculiarities of its own.

With this lack of environmental uniformity goes a corresponding
diversity of ethnic types. The influx of original races from either side,
migrations to and fro through the length and breadth of the land,
adaptation to special surroundings, and the mingling of the blood of
different peoples, have all contributed to the existing complexity.
Stock has been added to stock in this way, and ancestral lines have
become so confused that the ethnic diversity among the inhabitants of
the Indo-Mediterranean-European region is as great as its environ-
mental variety. Thus though it is easy enough to distinguish the
white man from his human fellows, it is difficult to describe a typical
Caucasian. In fact, only one physical characteristic runs through the
whole race, namely, the hair, which is predominantly wavy and always
oval in cross section. Generally speaking the Caucasian's features are
also more regular than those of other people and his eyes are usually
set straight. For the rest, amid the existing diversity, the most that
can be done in the way of classification is to establish three types of
white men, corresponding roughly to the three sections into which
their territory is divided. In the center, there is the olive-skinned,
brunette, Mediterranean type, which was originally recruited from the

454 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

southeast, but which has in the course of time become differentiated
from the Negroids and adapted to its peculiar surroundings. Toward
the northwest we find the florid-skinned, blond-haired Europeans,
whose ancestors are Mediterraneans and Asiatics, but whose distin-
guishing characteristics were undoubtedly acquired during the course
of their wanderings across the plain lands between the Pamir region
and the Baltic. In the southeast section finally, dwell the swarthy-
skinned, black-haired Indians, who came down from the northern plain
lands during prehistoric days and established their supremacy over the
scarcely differentiated black people of the peninsula. These distinc-
tions are not to be taken too definitely, however; for even as the three
sections of the Indo-Mediterranean-European section are intercon-
nected, so the corresponding ethnic types are blended along the lines
of transition, in such a way that it is as easy to pass from diversity
to unity as from unity to diversity in considering the characteristics
of the Caucasians.

Before leaving the eastern hemisphere to consider the fourth racial
region on the other side of the globe, we should take a hasty survey
of the insular region of Oceania and determine the ethnic affinities of
the South Sea Islanders. These islands of the Pacific are so scattered,
and differ from one another so widely, that they cannot be said to
constitute a separate racial region. The most that can be done in the
way of classification, therefore, is to divide the archipelagoes into
groups, establish their relations with each other, and indicate their
connections with the mainland.

Topographically the islands may be divided into two classes: con-
tinental and oceanic. The continental islands are adjacent to the
mainland and stretch out along the equator toward the east and south-
east. The oceanic islands, on the other hand, are grouped between the
tropics in isolated archipelagoes, extending more than halfway across
the Pacific. The lines of entry into this insular region lead back to
Indo-Malaysia, the cradle-land of mankind and the point of intersec-
tion of the three racial regions of the old world. Oceania was, ac-
cordingly, peopled from three sources, successive waves of Negro, Cau-
casic and Mongolic migration coming together in Indo-Malaysia and
spreading out again over the islands of the Pacific.

The negro dispersion occurred first, probably in the early days when
the eastern-equatorial region still extended uninterruptedly far out
into the South Sea. As the configuration of the globe assumed its his-
toric form, many of the earlier land-bridges were broken, leaving the
blacks to become adapted to different insular environments. But as
the islands occupied were for the most part continental and situated
under the equator, the surrounding conditions differed but slightly
from those prevailing throughout the eastern-equatorial region. As a

THE HUMAN SPECIES. 455

result, the Oceanic negroes are ethnically similar to their African rela-
tives. There is even the same succession of t3^pes, running from the
pygmy Negritoes of Borneo and the Philippines, through the Negroes
of Papua and Melanesia, to the Negroids of Micronesia. The Aus-
tralians constitute the only exception. The racial aiiinities of this
primitive people are somewhat doubtful, though they are in all prob-
ability derived from Negro stock. The Australians have lived so long
isolated in their island continent, however, that in the course of time
they have developed certain ethnic peculiarities.

Oceania is still connected through Malaysia with Indo-China. The
Golden peninsula, in turn, is joined on the west with the Indo-Mediter-
ranean-European region, and open on the north to the Asiatic area.
During prehistoric times, migrations proceeded along both these lines
in successive stages toward the east. From the peninsular portion, peo-
ple belonging to the white race — Indonesians they are collectivel}''
called — passed through Malaysia and proceeded thence (probably in
canoes or perhaps in proas) to the scattered islands of Polynesia. Mon-
uments and stone records still mark the path of this Indonesian dis-
persion even as far as Easter island. Miscegenation with Negro
natives doubtless occurred along the route, accompanied by adaptation
to the different environments; but withal, the original type has been
preserved, so that the surviving Indonesians, classified geographically
as Polynesians, still show distinct Caucasic characteristics. The Mon-
gols who pushed south somewhat later from the Asiatic area into the
Golden peninsula became deeply impregnated with Indonesian blood
in these parts. The mixed Malay race thus constituted subsequently
spread out through the adjacent islands and eventually established their
supremacy over Malaysia. Some of them, notably the Bujis, became
a sea-faring folk, and by establishing commercial connections with the
surrounding islands, extended Malaysian influence still further across
the Pacific.

During the middle ages Saracen traders reached these parts from
Arabia, and from very early times Chinese emigrants have continued
to establish out-post settlements upon the littoral islands of Asia ; but
with these later influences we have not at present to deal. It is
enough to know that the inhabitants of Oceania trace their ethnic
origin to the three great races of the old world. In the tropical con-
tinental islands of ]\Ielanesia, the Oceanic Negroes predominate. Scat-
tered over the oceanic islands of Polynesia are the Indonesian descend-
ants of an ancient Caucasic line. Throughout Malaysia the Mongolic
Malays prevail. The island continent of Australia contains a peculiar
population, probably derived originally from Negro stock, while the
tiny islets of Mikronesia support scanty settlements of mixed
Melanesian-Polynesian people.

456 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Entry into the fourth racial region was not from Tndo-Malaysia
but from the Arctic peninsulas of the eastern hemisphere. During the
period of dispersion, continuous connections probably existed along
these high latitudes, joining America with northwest Europe, on the
one hand, and with northeast Asia, on the other. It was possible,
therefore, during these early ages, for dolichocephalic Mediterranean
people to continue the course of their northwesterly migrations until
they reached the Atlantic shores of the new world; and for brachy-
cephalic Asiatics to pursue their way northeastward until they came
to the Pacific coast of the continent. That the western hemisphere
was originally occupied in this manner by emigrants from Europe and
Afeia appears probable from the prevalence among the American abo-
rigines of the long-head type in the east and the broad-head type in
the west. The incursion along the Atlantic could not have lasted as
long as that proceeding by way of the Pacific, for the ancient land-bridge
joining northwest Europe with northeast America was broken long
before the prehistoric period, and the islands left between were too far
apart to afford further access from this direction. On the Pacific
side, however, the old miocene bridge, with its temporary glacial ex-
tensions, probably endured until quaternary times, and after this, ap-
proaches still remained across the narrow Behring strait and along
the Aleutian island chain. We should think of Asia, therefore, as the
source of the main stream of migration that spread southeastwards
over the new world.

In these early days, before the knowledge of ocean navigation,
America was not as now a Durchgangsland, but rather a cul-de-sac.
There was entry on either side from the north, but no exit in any
other direction. The aboriginal people pouring in from above must,
therefore, have been pushed down by the later comers through the
constricted central space, like the sands in an hourglass, to spread
out along the equator and become contracted again in the apex of the
continent. Moreover, as the main stream of migration proceeded from
Asia, the emigrants from Europe were probably confined from the first
to the eastern edge of the hemisphere. Cut off completely from fur-
ther contact with other people, the American aborigines, long-heads
and round-heads alike, were henceforth subjected to the influences of
their new surroundings and modified accordingly.

Geographically speaking, the American continent differs from the
other regions of the earth, and at the same time possesses certain posi-
tive characteristics of its own. This isolation of the western hemi-
sphere, taken together with such environmental uniformity as exists
within its borders, had the effect of differentiating the aboriginal in-
habitants from their European and Asiatic ancestors and blending
them gradually into one racial variety, possessing pronounced Oriental
affinities.

TEE HUMAN SPECIES. 457

Topographic and climatic differences led, however, to lines of
minor ethnic variation, which, for environmental reasons, cross each
other at right angles. Topographically considered, the western hemi-
sphere combines longitudinal uniformity with latitudinal diversity, so
that in this respect the two sections of the continent are very much
alike. Both North and South America have their mountain ranges
along the west and the mural masses of each section are succeeded by
deforested plains and forested river valleys extending to the Atlantic
coast. As a result, there is a corresponding variation of ethnic types
running through both continents from west to east, showing more or
less marked distinctions between the men of the mountain, the men
of the plain, the men of the forest and the men of the shore. Owing to
its extension across almost all the degrees of latitude, the western hemi-
sphere offers, on the other hand, an extreme longitudinal range of cli-
mate, so that in this respect there is a striking difference between the
two Americas. Both triangular sections have their bases on the north
and their apexes turned towards the south in such a way that the
northern continent is mostly temperate and the southern continent
predominantly tropical. As a result, there are likewise lines of ethnic
variation running along the longitudes, which distinguish the inhabit-
ants of the northern or temperate continent from the inhabitants of
the southern or tropical continent. From the fact that they cross each
other at right angles, however, these longitudinal and latitudinal
variations tend to neutralize each other to a large extent and leave a
relatively uniform type. It is possible on this account, despite the
diversity that exists among the American aborigines, to distinguish
the Eed man from his human fellows by his brown or copper-colored
skin; his lank black hair, which is nearly round in cross section; his
deep-set beady black eyes; his aquiline nose; his massive jaws; and his
finely formed figure.

There has been no attempt in the foregoing, either to make an exact
analysis of the ethnic make-up of mankind, or to follow the process of
varietal differentiation in detail. The sole purpose of the enquiry has
been, by combining the analytical and geographical methods of investi-
gation, to indicate the probable order of racial ramification and to
determine in a general way under what environmental conditions the
ethnic differentiation of mankind occurred.

458 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

WERE THE EARLIEST ORGANIC MOVEMENTS CON-
SCIOUS OR UNCONSCIOUS?

By Professor E. B. TITCHENER,
cornell university.

rriHERE are now current two general theories of tlie place of mind in
-L nature. The one of these, and the one which it is easier to state
in precise terms, regards the processes of the material universe (includ-
ing those of the physical organism) as a closed chain of cause and
effect, which is altogether removed from any psychical influence.
Mental process is a concomitant of certain highly complex material
processes, but not anything that affects these processes themselves.
Whether or not it is a constant concomitant, and thus a valid index
or symptom of the nature of the underlying material processes, is a
question which science must settle by appeal to the facts. Modern psy-
chology answers it in the affirmative, though she offers no explanation —
cannot, in the nature of the case, offer an explanation — of the 'why'
of the connection. Mind exists; mental processes run their course in
constant parallelism to bodily processes ; they never interfere with these
processes. This is the first view, and the view which I myself, at the
present time, consider to be the more tenable.

The alternative theory regards mind as capable of causal interaction
with body. Mind and body have developed together, and it stands to
reason that they mutually influence each other. This is a common
sense point of view; it seems, at first sight, to have everything in its
favor, and to be just as intelligible as the other.

We must, however, go a little deeper. And, in order to keep things
clear, let us give the theory of interaction a more concrete form. One
of the strongest arguments in support of the theory, or perhaps we
might rather say one of its necessary implications, which appears to
many psychologists to be borne out by the facts, is that 'consciousness'
has a 'survival value,' that mind is a factor in organic evolution. Now
we must sharply distinguish between two different uses of the term
•'consciousness,' which are oftentimes confused by the advocates of
interaction. Consciousness may mean knowledge or awareness, our
acquaintance with the world about us, or it may mean simply (as on
the first theory it always must mean) a complex of mental processes.
In the former meaning, it covers the great functions of cognition,
memory, reasoning, imagination, etc. And this is the point at which
confusion enters. Cognition, memory, and the rest, are not purely

THE EARLIEST ORGANIC MOVEMENTS. 459

mental functions, but functions of the mind-brain union, of the total
psychophysical organism. It is not a detached mind that knows and
remembers, but the living organism, embodied soul and ensouled
body. We never find reasoning where there is no mind ; but neither do
we find it where there is no body. If, then, I am allowed to interpret
'consciousness' in this way, T can, although I hold the theory of con-
comitance, subscribe to everything that the interactionist says of the
survival value of consciousness. An organism that remembers will cer-
tainly, other things equal, get the better, in the struggle for existence,
of an organism that cannot remember. Only, the real question re-
mains: does the remembering animal survive because it consciously
remembers, or because its brain is capable of those complicated proc-
esses which form the substrate of conscious memory? Parallelism
maintains that the concomitant mental processes make no difference to
the result. Interactionism has to maintain, in this concrete form of
the 'survival theory,' that the mental process as such is an aid to evolu-
tion; that the function which is psychophysical helps the organism
onwards, on that account, more than the function which is physical;
that consciousness, just because it is mental process, furthers life and
progress. On any other formulation than this parallelism and inter-
action join hands, — for any other formulation begs the whole question.
And in this formulation, as asserting that a mental process may be
interpolated as a causal link between two physical processes, the theory
of interaction seems to me to be weaker than its rival.

The foregoing paragraphs are not intended to convert or convince
the reader; each theory has its peculiar difficulties, the discussion of
which here would lead me too far afield.* They are merely a brief ex-
pression of a scientific creed. Such an expression is, I think, a neces-
sary prolegomenon to the special problem of this paper.

One other prefatory remark must be made. I shall often speak, in
what follows, as if the problem of the origin and development of
organic movements were identical with that of the origin and develop-
ment of mind at large. In many contexts this identification holds.
For it is an universally admitted fact — sometimes raised to the dignity
of a law, as the 'law of dynamogenesis' — that there can be no intake
on the organism's part without corresponding output ; the action of any
appreciable stimulus has its reaction of motor discharge. The simpler
the organism, the clearer is this correlation; but it holds through-

* A good popular account of psychophysical parallelism is given by H.
Ebbinghaus, Grundzuge der Psychologic, I., i., 1897, 41-47. The strongest
attack made upon the theory in recent years is that of C. Stumpf 's ' Eroff nungs-
rede,' printed in the 'Bericht iiber den III. internationalen Congress fiir Psy-
chologic,' 1897. I say nothing in the text of Interactionism as a static (op-
posed to genetic) theory. The reader must pardon this and other sins of omis-
sion, on the score of necessary brevity.

46o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

out.* It follows, then, that there can be no consciousness without move-
ment, though there may, of course, be movement without consciousness.

If we turn, now, to the question of the character of the earliest
organic movements, we find, again, that two views are current. It is
maintained, on the one hand, that mind is as old as life. The first
movement of the first organism must, then, if it exceeded a certain
liminal extent, have been attended by some sort of consciousness. Let
us say, in round terms, that the first locomotion of the first vagrant
organism must have been accompanied by mental process. It is main-
tained, on the other hand, that the first movements are more akin to
the movements that physiologists term 'refiexes,' direct and uncon-
scious responses to stimulation; and that mental process appeared at
some relatively high stage of organic development, when the conflicting
demands upon the organism could no longer be met by such direct re-
sponse, but led to tensions and inhibitions, in a word, to 'hesitancy' of
movement. The parallelist will naturally incline to accept the first
hypothesis ; the interactionist, to accept the second. What are the argu-
ments ?

Let us look, first of all, at some of the arguments for an uncon-
scious first movement. (1) One of the most insistent is the appeal to
the law of parsimony. If we can start organic movement with some-
thing like the reflex, it is urged, is it not our bounden duty to do so,
and thus to work out our problem with the fewest possible terms? If
life is conceivable without consciousness, ought we not so to conceive
it, instead of dragging in a superfluous 'mind'? As a purely formal
argument, the appeal to parsimony may be met by the counter-appeal
to the law of continuity. It is no more impressive to say, in the
abstract, 'Entia non sunt multiplicanda prseter necessitatem,' than it is
to say 'Natura non facit saltum.' But the argument is, of course,
more than purely formal. It suggests, as adequate and as the simplest
possible, a certain definite interpretation of the facts. It throws upon
parallelism the burden of proving the necessity of mind at the first
appearance of life.

The parallelist might meet this challenge by raising the previous
question. The facts to be interpreted are natural phenomena, and
nature is not bound by any law of parsimony. Indeed, the prodigality
of nature is fully as evident as her frugality : witness the prolongation
of life beyond the period of reproductiveness, the enormous range of
our sensations of tone, the genius lavished on pure mathematics. It is
at least possible that, in the present instance, nature is less economical
in action than we strive to be in thought; that, in giving us life, she

* Cf. J. M. Baldwin, 'Mental Development,' etc.. Methods and Processes,
1895, 166.

THE EARLIEST ORGANIC MOVEMENTS. 461

has given us mind into the bargain. It is, I say, at least possible. We
know too little of the facts cited as analogical to be able to say more.

But there is another and a stronger objection. We know nothing
of mind, at first hand, except as it exists in man. Elsewhere, we are
forced to rely upon the 'objective criteria,' of which more presently.
What right, now, has the interactionist to bring mind into the organic
series at any point lower than man ? Why is he not bound, under the
law of parsimony, to keep mind out until its presence can be positively
demonstrated ? I think that the answer is plain ; he is so bound, unless
he can show cause for believing that mind, were it present, would be
of service to the organism in the struggle for existence. As he has
called upon his opponent to 'prove the necessity of mind at the first
appearance of life,' so we might retort that he is himself bound to show
the indispensableness of mind to the struggling organism. But we will
let the more modest phrasing stand, and proceed to an examination
of tlie arguments.

The locus classicus for the survival value of consciousness is Chapter
V. of James' ' Principles of Psychology.' The arguments are three.

(a) "The brain is an instrument of possibilities, but of no certainties. "
. . . Its hair-trigger organization makes of it a happy-go-lucky, hit-or-miss
affair. It is as likely to do the crazy as the sane thing at any given mo-
ment. . . . But the consciousness, with its own ends present to it, and knowing
also well which possibilities lead thereto and which away, will, if endowed with
causal efficacy, reinforce the favorable possibilities, and repress the unfavorable
and indifferent ones."

The facts bear out this 'a priori analysis'; for

'consciousness is only intense when nerve-processes are hesitant.' (6) The
phenomena of vicarious function 'seem to form another bit of circumstantial
evidence.' "Nothing seems at first sight more unnatural than that [the re-
maining parts of the brain] should vicariously take up the duties of a part
now lost without those duties as such exerting any persuasive or coercive force."
(c) "If pleasures and pains have no efficacy, one does not see . . . why the
most noxious acts, such as burning, might not give thrills of delight, and the
most necessary ones, such as breathing, cause agony."

The first of these arguments is little less than ama?>ing. It asserts
that the brain, the central and ruling organ of the whole body, has
been so far exempt from the influence of natural selection that it is
'indeterminate,' 'an instrument of possibilities,' 'as likely to do the
crazy as the sane thing' I 'The natural law of an organ constituted
after this fashion can be nothing but a law of caprice.' Does such 'a
priori analysis' commend itself to the neurologist? I should rather
say that the brain, combining as it does an immense structural com-
plexity with great architectural simplicity, has been stably and de-
terminately molded for the part which it plays in the economy of the
organism; that it is a marvelously reliable organ, definitely disposed

462 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

for definite functions. I think that anatomy and physiology bear me
out. And as for consciousness being intense only when 'nerve processes
are hesitant': what of the plunge into cool water on a hot day? what
of the enjoyment of music after a long aesthetic starvation? what of
our grief at the loss of a dear friend ?

The second argument I take to be misleading. Vicarious function
has its limits. We can never see by aid of the auditory center, or hear
by aid of the visual. But the brain is bilaterally symmetrical; its
centers are arranged in a hierarchy, one above another; the connections
of center with center, direct and indirect, are multitudinous. Vicarious
function is thus, within wide limits, possible and natural; the excita-
tion whose 'principal path' is blocked finds several 'secondary paths'
still open. Let all the paths for a given form of excitation be blocked,
however, and what happens? Here is the supreme occasion when con-
sciousness might be useful; and consciousness does nothing.

The third argument requires a somewhat more detailed exami-
nation. It is an empirical law, a rule of average, that pleasant things
are good for the organism, and unpleasant things bad. Pleasant
things, things that we like, are things which, presented as stimuli,
evoke movements of extension or approach; unpleasant things, things
which we do not like, repel us, — we shrink from them. The usual ex-
planation of the law is that organisms wliich (as psychical) liked
and (as physical) reached out after things that were bad for them
would, in the long run, be killed off. It is a condition of living that
the things sought after shall, on the whole, be good for the seeker. The
argument alleges that this explanation is insufficient. 'If pleasures
and pains' as such 'have no efficacy,' there is no reason why their rela-
tion should not be reversed; why the things that are bad for us should
not be pleasant, and the good things unpleasant.

I think that the argument, by its very formulation, assumes the
causal efficacy which it is meant to prove. It assumes that a change
of mental process must necessarily condition a corresponding change
of motor reaction. Now there is good biological reason — psychology
apart — why the things that are bad for us should not be sought after,
and the things that are good for us neglected or repelled. But what
mental process colors the 'sought after' and the 'repelled' is simply a
question of fact. If it is the peculiar quality of pleasure and pain that
we are asked to account for, I reply that we can no more explain this
than we can explain why ether waves of a certain frequency correspond
to the sensation quality 'red' and not to that of 'blue.' If it is the con-
stancy of the mental accompaniment that is at issue — and this is sug-
gestM by the reference to an 'a priori rational harmony' — I reply that
the constancy is a given fact, accepted by parallelist and interactionist
alike, just as it is in the case of the colors. The argument, so far as I

TEE EARLIEST ORGANIC MOVEMENTS. 463

have understood it, does not 'make sense/ except from the standpoint
which it is supposed to recommend. And the instances do not help us.
Breathing is not a source of such extreme pleasure, as things are, that
a reversal of relations should make it an agony, and the nervous proc-
esses in burning are by no means hesitant, and ought, therefore, to yield
nothing so intensive as delight.*

So far, then, the argument from parsimony seems to have little
positive content. It simply asserts that the ontis probandi lies with
those who make mind and life coeval. Whether the parallelist can
shoulder the burden we shall see later on. In the meantime, let me
insist upon the limitation that attaches to both theories alike. The
parallelist can never explain why life should be attended by mind. He
thinks that there is evidence of the connection, but he cannot further
account for it. The interactionist is apt to suppose that, by his appeal
to parsimony, he has furnished an explanation of the appearance of
consciousness; mind came upon the scene, when and because it was
useful to the organism. The fallacy is obvious. The development of
mind under the rule of natural selection is one thing; the question of
the origin of mind is another, and is sometliing that lies wholly beyond
the ken of science.

(2) But we may leave the sphere of formal argument. The
theory of originally unconscious movement finds factual support, it
may be said, and support of the strongest kind, in recent experimental
investigations. The movements of the lowest animals are not random
and variable, but simple and stereotyped ; they are, in many cases, even
simpler than the reflex, as we ordinarily conceive of the physiological
reflex; they may be referred to mere 'tropisms,' direct physico-chemical
responses to physico-chemical changes in the environment. Nay more,
the complicated activities of such highly developed organisms as ants
and bees may be subsumed, with surprising completeness, under some
such heading as the 'chemoreflex.'t Here is proof positive. What
more can we ask?

We may ask, first, for a clearer recognition of the point of view
from which these investigations have been made. The psychologist
has no choice but to begin at the upper end of the organic scale —
to begin with himself, and his own mind — and to work downwards,
interpreting as he goes. The road is full of pitfalls; there is constant

*W. James, 'The Principles of Psychology,' 1890, i., 138 ff., 67 ff. ; ii., 584,
591 f.

t I have in mind such investigations as those of A. Bethe, Pfliiger's
Archiv, Ixx., 1898, 15, and H. S. Jennings, Amer. Journ. of Physiol., ii., 1899,
311; cf. Amer. Journ. of Psych., X., 1899, 503. The number of these studies
is steadily increasing. On the following arguments, cf. E. Claparfede, Revue
phil., 1901, 481 fT.

464 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

temptation to exaggerate the mental endowments of the lowest crea-
tures, to make their minds miniature copies of the human. Eomanes'
books, for instance, show over and over again how a psychologist,
working in the interests of mental evolution, may overestimate the
range and complexity of the animal consciousness. Still, this is the one
path that psychology can follow. The biologist, on the other hand,
thinks his world, when he thinks consistently, in terms of physics and
chemistry. He is also accustomed to think from below upwards. His
natural tendency, then, is to carry physical and chemical principles
as high in the scale of life as they will go. He has his inconsequences,
as the psychologist has his exaggerations; and his besetting inconse-
quence is to admit the presence of mind in animals higher than those
which he has himself examined. But science is not inconsistent be-
cause her representatives may sometimes nod. It is a postulate of
mechanistic biology that physical and chemical principles will carry
the biological student all the way, from the algsB to man. Conscious-
ness does not fall within his horizon. Until, then, the interactionist has
converted his biological colleagues to vitalism, and thence to the ad-
mission of mental process as an equivalent of physical energy, we must
conclude that the two fields of enquiry, the psychological and the
biological, do not overlap. There is no reason why the biologist,
granted a steady increase of natural knowledge, should not some day
reduce all the movements, say, of the monkeys, to physico-chemical
terms, to a system of simple or complex 'reflexes.' That is what he is
on the way to do. On the other hand, the reduction of all the move-
ments of Paramecium to a single 'reflex' type does not prove to the
psychologist that the creature has not (or has not had) a mind.
Biolog}' and psychology, if I may change the metaphor, meet and pass
on a double track. They do not collide, but neither do they turn out
to be two halves of a single train of thought.

We may ask, secondly, for a clearer understanding of what has
been called the 'objective criterion of mind.' The phrase is open to the
objection that it contains a contradictio in adjectivo; how can there
be an objective criterion of the subjective ? But we may waive this, and
assume that an empirical correlation is possible. Let us suppose, then,
that biology and psychology agree to ask the question : How are we to
tell, by watching a lower animal's movements, whether or not it has a
mind? And let us suppose, further, that they are agreed upon their
answer. The answer must be of this kind: If you see so and so, then
you may infer the presence of consciousness. Beyond that, no answer
has gone, and no answer can possibly go. Because this animal does this
thing, it has a mind ; this other animal does not do this thing, therefore
— what? Therefore, we do not know whether it has a mind. It may
not, of course, but then again, it may. The biologist, 1 repeat, may

THE EARLIEST ORGANIC MOVEMENTS, 465

multiply his tropisms till they cover the whole field of organic move-
ment; he is only consistent in so doing, just as he is consistent in re-
fusing to speak of 'visual perception' and in martyrising his linguistic
consciousness to the term 'photo-reception,' But, though it rain tro-
pisms, the psychologist may go without his umbrella.

However, when all is said, is there not at least a presumption in
favor of the unconscious-movement theory ? That is the theory adopted
by the men who made the investigations; and, surely, they ought to
know, if anybody knows. Would it not be good common sense to take
their conclusions, instead of speculating about what may be? I have
no great objection; save on that single score of scientific methodology,
I have no objection. For it is one of the cardinal points of the theory
which I hold, that a movement which at first was conscious may pres-
ently lose its conscious character; that the physical may in course of
time replace the psychophysical. The fact, then, if it be a fact, that
ants and bees are nowadays mere reflex machines will mean that they
started out, so to say, with a certain endowment of mind, which they
have lost in the process of adaptation to their special environment;
and the similar fact that paramecium has its one stereotyped form of
motor reaction to stimulus will mean that it, too, had at first its
modicum of mind, which it has lost* on its journey throiigh the ages.
The evidence for this view I have yet to give. If it be sound, then the
automatism of the lower animals does not in the least degree affect the
theory that mind is as old as life.

And now for the alternative theory, — which must, I suppose, always
strike the biologist, more especially if he be physiologist, as fanciful
and far-fetched ; the theory that the first animal movements were con-
scious, and that all our present movements, the reflexes included, are
the direct descendants of conscious movements. What is the evidence
in its favor?

If we consider the facts of organic movement as they are pre-
sented in our own experience; if, following the rule of psychological
enquiry, we set out from an examination of our own action and con-
duct; we find that the phenomena cannot be brought at once under
the head of any single principle, but that they rather result from the
joint operation of two different tendencies. On the one hand, we are
continually enlarging our sphere of action; conduct grows more com-
plex; new motives are formed, new adaptations made; there is a tend-
ency towards more and more complicated or specific coordinations of
movements. The realization of this tendency is always accompanied
by consciousness, by the mental formations that are known, both in
popular speech and in psychology, as choice, resolve, deliberation, judg-
ment, doubt, etc. On the other hand, there is a tendency towards the
simplification of movement; coordinations that at first involved corti-

VOL. LX. — 30.

466 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

cal activity are presently, as a 'habit' is formed, relegated to lower
centers. And the realization of this tendency is accompanied by lapse
or loss of consciousness. We learn to walk, to swim, to bicycle, to
typewrite, to play a musical instrument, with conscious pains and ef-
fort. Later, if we practise enough, we do these things 'automatically,'
unconsciously. We may typewrite correctly while our attention is wholly
directed upon the meaning of our paragraph; we may play a musical
comi^osition correctly while we are engaged in an absorbing conversa-
tion. The original impulsive or selective or volitional action has be-
come automatic. We can, of course, bring its terms back to conscious-
ness; we can stop and 'think' that we are typewriting or playing the
piano or bicycling ; but if we do this, the movements become hesitating
and may be seriously deranged. If the natural tendency takes its
course, we finally reach a form of movement which (except that we
know its course of development) is not distinguishable from the phys-
iological reflex.

Here is a bit of positive and unmistakable evidence. It is possible,
in the life history of the individual, for conscious movements to pass
-over into unconscious. Not only is it possible: it is a regular occur-
Tence. From the biological point of view, it is eminently useful; the
simplification of response to stimulus, its relegation to lower nervous
centers leaves the organism free for further adaptations. Is there not
some ground, then, for generalizing the facts, and saying that, prob-
ably, all unconscious movements have developed from conscious? This
is what Wundt has done, in his statement that 'the reflexes are volun-
tary actions that have become mechanical.* Only, his terminology is
at fault, for the antithesis of the voluntary is not the mechanical (all
actions, biologically regarded, are mechanical), but the unconscious
action; and the antithesis of the reflex is not the voluntary but the
complex, coordinated action. So difficult is it, even when one's thought
is scientifically clean, to avoid the language of 'common sense' !

I think that the reader who has recognized the weakness of the
opposing theory will take great comfort in this piece of undisputed
fact, and will be willing to generalize it farther than the logical canons
warrant. To myself, brought up in the faith that mind developed
somehow and appeared somewhere after the birth of life, and always
unsuccessful in my attempts to reconcile this faith with reason, Wundt's
counter-statement came as a real illumination. Nevertheless, as it
stands, it is nothing more than an argument from analogy ; we argue
from the individual to the race. Is there no evidence from the race
itself?

* W. Wundt, Grundzilge der physiologischen Psychologie, ii., 1893, 591.
Cf. the historical discussion, 591-593, and PJiilos. Stud., i., 1883, 354 ff.; also J.
Ward, art. Psychology, Encycl. Brit., 9th ed., 43, col. a.

TEE EARLIEST ORGANIC MOVEMENTS. 467

We find a little — as niiieli, perhaps, as we have a right to expect.
There is a class of movements, familiar to every one who has read
Darwin's 'Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals/ which
are known in psychology as 'expressive' movements. Such are the open-
ing of mouth and eyes in surprise, the frown and clenched fist of anger,
the play of the facial muscles in joy and sorrow. These movements
belong to various psychological classes, volitional, selective, impulsive,
reflex. But there are among them certain reflexes — primary reflexes,
not automatic actions or 'secondary' reflexes of the kind just described
— that can only be explained as the unconscious descendants of earlier
impulsive actions. The face of proud contempt reflexly 'curves a con-
tumelious lip.' What does the movement mean? Wh}^, it lays bare
the canine teeth; it is the human counterpart of the snarl of dog or
wolf; it is the last reflex or unconscious remnant of a coordinated or
impulsive action which, somewhere or other in our not remote ancestry,
preceded the movements of actual attack. The deer bounds away when
it hears the hounds, and we 'jump' when we are startled; the sitting
bird crouches on its nest when danger approaches, and we wince or
shrink when we are frightened or censured. The connection is obvious ;
the activities are related; but the action which formerly was conscious
has become, in us, a mere 'automatism.' Instances of this sort might
easily be multiplied.* The facts are admitted, and their explanation
accepted, by psychologists of all schools. But here is evidence of the
derivation of unconscious from conscious movement, not in the life his-
tory of the individual, but in that of the race.

In both of the cases which we have discussed, consciousness has
shown itself to be chronologically prior to unconsciousness. Are there
any known cases to the contrary? Have we any instance of an action
which, unconscious in the lower animals or early in our own lives, later
becomes conscious ? Have we any hint of a tendency in this direction ?
On the former count, as regards the animals, the appeal must lie to the
'objective criterion' of mind, and therefore to biology as well as to
psychology. I can only say that the psychological evidence is negative,
and that I have not myself — speaking, however, as a layman in biology
— come across any positive indications in- biological literature. On the
latter, as regards ourselves, I find no evidence either in psychological

• It would be especially interesting to examine from this point of view the
movements of the new-born infant. The position taken in the text is, I think,
supported by, e. g., the mimetic facial reflexes, and by the various atavistic re-
flexes (hanging from stick or finger, swimming movements, etc.)- But a full
consideration of all these movements would require a separate paper. On the
other hand, the fact that in the higher animals the reflexes are imperfect at
birth, and take a little time to 'harden' — a fact which has been rightly em-
phasized in several recent studies of animal behavior — does not seem to touch
the present argument one way or the other.

468 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

literature or in my own experience. Omne consciens e C07iscienti is the
law of conduct known to the psychologist. It may be retorted that
the negative evidence is worth very little, since, e. g., we believe that life
evolved from inorganic matter, and yet no one has seen the not-living
pass over into the living. I reply that the evidence is at least negative,
that is, is not positive; and that, although we have not built up living
protoplasm from dead matter, we have at least gone a good way towards it.

There is another point. The automatic actions that take shape in
the course of the individual life have upon them the marks of appro-
priateness, of 'purposive' response to stimulus. They are relatively
precise and clean-cut; they subserve some one end, or some set of in-
terrelated ends. Appropriateness and precision are also, notoriously,
characteristic of the physiological reflexes. They are similarly char-
acteristic, we are told, of the tropisms and stereotyped reactions of the
lowest forms of life, so that these are often spoken of as 'reflexive.'
Is not this item of internal evidence worth something ? Is it not prob-
able that things which are so much alike have had a similar history?
For it must be remembered that, however simple the organism which
we are examining, it is still not a primitive organism; its history is,
presumably, at least as long as the history of man. Not until we see
the organism take shape from its inorganic constituents, and note the
first reactions of the living mass, shall we have direct evidence of the
nature of primitive movement; but by all analogy, that movement will
not be precise and clean-cut, but vague and clumsy, indefinite and ir-
regular. It is surely reasonable to suggest that the two tendencies
which we find in ourselves, and which (on the testimony of expressive
movements) are also operative in the race — the tendency towards new
coordination and progressive adaptation, with consciousness, and to-
wards specialized and stationary adaptation, without consciousness —
were present from the very beginning; that the rudimentary organism
might, as circumstances dictated, follow either of two paths, the down-
ward path to static adjustment, by reflexes, or the upward path to
dynamic adjustment, by conscious and coordinated action; and that in
following the first path, it forever lost the power of higher development,
while, in following the second, it still retained the power of fixing stably
the reactions whose modification was unnecessary. Paramecium would
then have lost the faint fiicker of mind with which its original ancestor
was endowed, and, losing therewith the possibility of coordinated move-
ment, would have remained paramecium. But a primitive organism of
like endowment, living under different conditions, and retaining both
mind and the correlated physical adaptability, would have become man.

Still the opposing arguments will not down. If consciousness dis-
appears as soon as adjustment to surroundings has become easy, why
may it not have appeared as soon as adjustment became difficult ? Why

THE EARLIEST ORGANIC MOVEMENTS. A6g

may it not have developed late, when the difficulties of living called
for a new aid to life ? Why may we not return to the belief that mind
has a survival value?

I reply, as I have replied in another connection, that the formula-
tion of the question begs the issue. The question assumes that there is
a causal connection between biological adaptation and consciousness.
Since the facts can be formulated both in biological and in psycho-
logical terms, without lapse or break in the separate series of material
and mental processes, the proof of survival value must be sought else-
where. We have considered the evidence, and found it wanting. But
we can, also, meet the question on its own terms. We may answer that
tlie difficulties of adjustment were present from the outset, nay, must
have been peculiarly pressing at the outset, when life was young and
inexperienced ; so that mind must also have been present from the first,
and could not disappear until adjustment had already proceeded some
little distance. Taken in the abstract, the one possibility is as likely
as the other. There is, however, a direct answer which — if we bear in
mind the limitations of theory at large — seems to be satisfactory. Mind
appears with life. At first, there is no differentiation of functions;
mind and life are uniformly coextensive. Later, with growing com-
plexity of the organism, come differentiation of functions and the de-
velopment of a central coordinating organ. If mind and life run
parallel to each other, we must suppose that mind has also suffered
differentiation, and that the supreme consciousness of the organism
now accompanies the functions of the supreme organ. But this is what
we find. There is, in strictness, no evidence of a complete 'disappear-
ance' of mind; our ovoi reflexes and automatic actions, though not
attended by our consciousness, may have a consciousness of their own.
This hypothesis has, in fact, recommended itself to many investigators.*

This last objection, then, does not shake our position. Have we,
now, shown the 'necessity of mind at the first appearance of life?' We
have at least made its presence so reasonable and probable that we need
stand in no fear of the law of parsimony. But the recurrence of the
counter-arguments at the very end of our enquiry is suggestive. It re-
minds us that we have been dealing, throughout, with inferences and
probabilities, not with demonstrations and mathematical certainties.
And an argument from probability is like an india-rubber ball; you
hit it, and it may fly away, or it may return to you, all the more vigor-
ously the harder you hit. So far from convincing the reader, this paper
may simply prompt him to refutation and rebuttal. All the better —
provided only that he adduce new arguments.

♦ Cf., e. g., E. F. W. Pfluger, Muller's Arch. f. Anat., 1851, 484-494.

47° POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

TRUST DEED BY ANDEEW CARNEGIE, CREATING A

TRUST FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE CARNEGIE

INSTITUTION, OF WASHINGTON, D. C.

T, Andrew Carnegie, of New York, having retired from active busi-
-^ ness, and deeming it to be my duty and one of my highest privi-
leges to administer the wealth which has come to me as a Trustee in
behalf of others; and entertaining the confident belief that one of the
best means of discharging that trust is by providing funds for improv-
ing and extending the opportunities for study and research in our coun-
try ; and having full confidence in the gentlemen after named, who have
at my request signified their willingness to carry out the trust which I
have confided to them :

Therefore, I have transferred to these, the Trustees of the Car-
negie Institution of Washington, ten millions of registered five per cent,
bonds of the United States Steel Corporation, the names of said Trustees
being as follow :

Ex officio :

The President of the United States.

The President of the Senate.

The Speaker of the House of Representatives.

The Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution.

The President of the National Academy of Sciences.
John S. Billings, New York. Seth Low, New York.

William N. Frew, Pennsylvania, Wayne MacVeagh, Pennsylvania.

Lyman J. Gage, Illinois. D. 0. Mills, New York.

Daniel C. Gilman, Maryland. S. Weir Mitchell, Pennsylvania.

John Hay, District of Columbia. William W. Morrow, California.

Abram S. Hewitt, New Jersey. Elihu Root, New York.

Henry L. Higginson, Massachusetts. John C. Spooner, Wisconsin.
Henry Hitchcock, Missouri. Andrew D. White, New York.

Charles L. Hutchinson, Illinois. Edward D. White, Louisiana.

William Lindsay, Kentucky. Charles D. Walcott, District of Columbia.

Carroll D. Wright, District of Colvimbia.

The said gift is to be held in trust for the purposes hereinafter
named or referred to, that is to say, for the purpose of applying the in-
terest or annual income to be obtained from the said bonds or from any
other securities which may be substituted for the same — for paying all
the expenses which may be incurred in the administration of the trust
by the Trustees, including in said expenses the personal expenses which
the Trustees may incur in attending meetings or otherwise in carrying
out the business of the trust ; and, second, for paying the sums required

CARNEGIE INSTITUTION OF WASHINGTON. 41 1

by the said Trustees to enable them to carry out the purposes hereafter
expressed. I hereby confer on the Trustees all the powers and immuni-
ties conferred upon Trustees under the law, and without prejudice to
this generality the following powers and immunities, viz. : Power to
receive and realize the said bonds, and the principal sums therein con-
tained and the interest thereof, to grant discharges or receipts therefor,
to sell the said bonds, either by public sale or private bargain, at such
prices and on such terms as they may deem reasonable, to assign or
transfer the same, to sue for payment of the principal sums or interest,
to invest the sums which from time to time may be received from the
said bonds on such securities as trustees are authorized by the law of
the State of JSTew York, Pennsylvania, or Massachusetts, to invest trust
funds, and also on such other securities as they in the exercise of their
own discretion may select, and to alter or vary the investments from
time to time as they may think proper; and I hereby expressly provide
and declare that the Trustees shall to no extent and in no way be re-
sponsible for the safety of the said bonds, or for the sums therein con-
tained, or for the securities upon which the proceeds of the said bonds
may be invested, or for any depreciation in the value of the said bonds,
or securities, or for the honesty or solvency of those to whom the same
may be entrusted, relying, as I do, solely on the belief that the Trustees
herein appointed and their successors shall act honorably ; and I further
hereby empower the Trustees to administer any other funds or property
which may be donated or bequeathed to them for the purposes of the
trust ; and I also empower them to appoint such officers as they may con-
sider necessary for carrying on the business of the trust, at such salaries
or for such remuneration as they may consider proper, and to make such
arrangements, and lay down from time to time such rules as to the sig-
nature of deeds, transfers, agreements, cheques, receipts, and other writ-
ings, as may secure the safe and convenient transaction of the financial
business of the trust. The Committee shall have the fullest power and
discretion in dealing with the income of the trust, and expending it in
such manner as they think best fitted to promote the objects set forth in
the following clauses :

The purposes of the trust are as follows, and the revenues therefrom
are to be devoted thereto:

It is proposed to found in the city of Washington an institution
which, with the cooperation of institutions now or hereafter established,
there or elsewhere, shall in the broadest and most liberal manner en-
courage investigation, research, and discovery; show the application of
knowledge to the improvement of mankind; provide such buildings,
laboratories, books, and apparatus, as may be needed; and afford in-
struction of an advanced character to students properly qualified to
profit thereby.

47 2 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Among its aims are these —

1. To promote original research, paying great attention thereto as
one of the most important of all departments.

2. To discover the exceptional man in every department of study
whenever and wherever found, inside or outside of schools, and enable
him to make the work for which he seems specially designed his life
work.

3. To increase facilities for higher education.

4. To increase the efficiency of the universities and other institutions
of learning throughout the country, by utilizing and adding to their
existing facilities, and aiding teachers in the various institutions for
experimental and other work, in these institutions as far as advisable.

5. To enable such students as may find Washington the best point
for their special studies to enjoy the advantages of the museums, li-
braries, laboratories, observatory, meteorological, piscicultural, and for-
estry schools, and kindred institutions of the several departments of the
Goverrmient.

6. To ensure the prompt publication and distribution of the results
of scientific investigation, a field considered highly important.

If in any year the full income of the trust cannot be usefully ex-
pended or devoted to the purposes herein enumerated, the Committee
may pay such sums as they thinlc fit into a reserve fund, to be ultimately
applied to those purposes, or to the construction of such buildings as it
may be found necessary to erect in Washington.

The specific objects named are considered most important in our
day, but the Trustees shall have full power, by a majority of two-thirds
of their number, to modify the conditions and regulations under which
the funds may be dispensed, so as to secure that these shall always be
applied in the manner best adapted to the changed conditions of the
time; provided always that any modifications shall be in accordance
with the purposes of the donor, as expressed in the trust, and that the
revenues be applied to objects kindred to those named, the chief pur-
pose of the founder being to secure if possible for the United States of
America leadership in the domain of discovery and the utilization of
new forces for the benefit of man.

In Witness Whereof I have subscribed these presents, consisting
of what is printed or typewritten on this and the preceding seven pages,
on the twenty-ninth day of January, nineteen hundred and two, before
these witnesses.

Andrew Carnegie.

Witnesses :

Louise Whitfield Carnegie.
EsTELLE Whitfield.

SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE.

473

SCIENTIFIC LITEEATUEE.

POPULAR BOOKS ON EXTINCT
ANIMALS.
If ' Dragons of the Air,' by H. G.
Seeley, is not in quite so popular a vein
as its title might indicate it is none
the less a clear, comprehensive and in-
teresting account of that remarkable
group of reptiles, begging Professor
Seeley's pardon, known to science as
pterodactyls. No one is better qualified
than Professor Seeley to write of them,
as his acquaintance with these flying
dragons is of many years standing, and
he has made them the objects of spe-
cial study. He tells us that he has
attempted to show how a naturalist
does his work and illustrates the
methods of the paleontologist by
briefly comparing the various parts of
existing flying creatures with one an-
other and applying the information
thus gained to the study of the skele-
ton of the pterodactyls. Part by part
the various portions of this skeleton
are passed in review, and we are told
the more important variations found in
the widely varying members of the
group and between them and other
flying animals. Then, after a chapter
devoted to evidences of animals' habits,
from which the reader may learn how
the conclusions regarding the food, cov-
ering and flight of pterodactyls have
been reached, we are introduced to the
various species that have existed at
different periods of the earth's history.
In connection with this are given some
restorations of the more remarkable
of the dragons of the air, including the
extraordinary Dimorphodon with a
head bigger than its body. Accom-
panying these restorations are plates
showing the specimens on which they
are based, and the skeletons built up
from these specimens. Most of the

figures represent the animals as run-
ning on all fours, an attitude that is
questioned by some of our paleontol-
ogists, notably by Dr. Williston, who
considers that they walked on the hind
legs alone and that the great Ornith-
ostoma in particular could not possibly
have used its fore limbs as legs.
The concluding chapters contain a
discussion of the relations and origin
of the pterodactyls and, from what has
been said in other parts of the book, we
are in a measure prepared to find that
Professor Seeley advocates a closer
affinity between birds and pterodactyls
than is usually accorded them. Most
anatomists will probably agreee in con-
sidering that many features of the
skeleton of pterodactyls, such for ex-
ample as its remarkable pneumatieity
are due to modifications for flight, but
the author considers that Pterodactyls
and Birds form two parallel groups
which may be regarded as ancient
divergent forks of the same branch of
animal life. But whether we accept all
Professor Seeley's deductions or not we
may safely accept his facts and we are
indebted to him for having placed so
much information within our reach and
for having given it in so readable a
form.

'Animals of the Past,' by Frederic A.
Lucas, is more popular in its line than
' Dragons of the Air,' and wider in its
scope, dealing with a number of the
more striking or more interesting of
extinct animals and especially with
those of gigantic size. Here, however,
Mr. Lucas's mission in life appears to
be to correct the widespread impression
that the animals of the past were so
very much larger than those of the
present. Some of the dinosaurs we
are told were the largest animals that

474

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

have walked the face of the earth, but |
existing whales are the greatest of ani-
mals, and the living elephants are
larger than the mastodon and compare
favorably with the mammoth. The first
of the dozen chapters treats of fossils
and how they are formed, while the ;
last discusses the problem why do ani- .
mals become extinct, suggesting some j
of the causes which lead to extermina- :
tion, and showing that in some in- I
stances apparent extinction is in reality
evolution, one species passing into •
another, so that the race endures while
individuals die out; this is well illus- j
trated by the chapter devoted to the
ancestry of the horse. Reading the
riddles of the rocks tells how animals
are interpreted by their fossil remains
even if it is not possible to reconstruct
an animal from a single bone or tell its
size and habits from a tooth. Other
chapters are devoted to birds of old, {
the dinosaurs, feathered giants, the |
mammoth and the mastodon, and at the 1
end of each chapter is stated where the
best examples of the animals described
may be seen, while in many instances
the size of the largest specimens is i
given. The book is illustrated with
restorations of extinct animals drawn \
by Mr. C. R. Knight and J. M. j
Gleeson, and while these may look a
little tame beside some of those that
have appeared in the Sunday papers,
they are the result of long and careful
study and may be regarded as among
the most accurate that have been
made.

ENGINEERING.

A 'Field Manual for Engineeks'
by Philetus H. Philbrick (Wiley and
Sons ) , treats only of the svirveying work
of railroad location and construction,
but this is set forth in a thorough and

interesting manner. No logarithmic
tables are given, as is usual in such
field-books, the author claiming that
' they are but little used and should not
be used at all.' Whatever may be
thought of this remarkable statement,
it must be said that the twelve pages
given on approximate and abridged
methods of numerical computations are
of great interest and value; if such
methods were generally taught to engi-
neering students it would certainly
prove highly advantageous in enabling
them to perform computations with a
degree of precision consistent with the
given data.

'Water Filtration Works,' by
James H. Fuertes ( Wiley and Sons ) ,
treats this important topic mainly
from the engineering point of view.
Both slow filtration by sand beds
and rapid filtration by mechanical
means with the help of a coagulent are
fully described, the methods of clearing
and operating being in particular well
exemplified by illustrations of the de-
tails of plants recently installed. The
purification of river waters carrying
much suspended matter is discussed in
connection with the results of the ex-
periments made at Pittsburgh, Cin-
cinnati and Louisville. For towns
where it is doubtful whether a sand
filter bed need be covered the author
suggests that a combination of the slow
and rapid filtering methods might be
made, the former being used in summer
and the latter in winter. The book
bears evidence of having been prepared
with care, and it is a valuable addition
to the literature of a subject which con-
stantly increases in importance as the
public comes more and more to real-
ize that the use of pure water dimin-
ishes the death rate from zymotic
diseases.

TEE PROGBESS OF SCIENCE.

475

THE PEOGEESS OF SCIENCE.

THE CARNEGIE INSTITUTION.
We have the privilege of publishing
above the exact words of Mr. Carnegie's ,
trust deed establishing the Carnegie :
Institution of Washington. The trust
has duly been accepted by the trustees,
and officers have been elected as fol-
lows: Dr. Daniel C. Gilman, president
of the institution ; Mr. Abram S. ;
Hewitt, chairman of the board of trus-
tees; Dr. John S. Billings, vice-
chairman; Dr. Charles D. Walcott, sec-
retary. The executive committee con- |
sists of Mr. Abram S. Hewitt, Dr. D.
C. Gilman, Secretary Elihu Root, Dr.
John S. Billings, Mr. Carroll D.
Wright, Dr. S. Weir Mitchell and Dr.
Charles D. Walcott. The first regular
annual meeting of the board will be
held in November next, and in the
meanwhile the executive committee
will elaborate definite plans for the
administration of the institution. It .
is understood that the advice of scien-
tific men will be requested and that
committees of experts will be formed.
Part of the income of the trust will be
used for the construction of an admin-
istration building in Washington. No :
appropriations will be made before
November, but applications may be
presented, and these would perhaps be I
a help rather than a hindrance to the \
executive committee in formulating
their plans. Mr. Carnegie's views as
to the scope of the institution and its
possible relations to a national uni-
versity are further outlined in a brief
address made to the board of trustees
in presenting the deed of gift. He said :
I beg to thank you deeply for so
promptly, so cordially, aiding me by
acceptance of trusteeship. A note from
the president congratulates me upon
the ' high character, indeed, I may say,
the extraordinarily high character of

the trustees ' — such are his words. I
believe this estimate has been generally
approved througliout the wide bound-
ary of the United States.

My first thought was to fulfil the ex-
pressed wish of Washington by estab-
lishing a university here, but a study
of the question forced me to the con-
clusion that under present conditions
were Washington still with us, his
finely-balanced judgment would decide
that in our generation at least such
use of wealth would not be the best.

One of the most serious objections,
and one which I could not overcome,
was that another university might
tend to weaken existing universities.
My desire was to cooperate with all
educational institutions and establish
what would be a source of strength
and not of weakness to them, and the
idea of a Washington University or of
anything of a memorial character was
therefore abandoned.

It cost some effort to push aside the
tempting idea of a Washington Uni-
versity founded by Andrew Carnegie,
which the president of the Woman's
George Washington Memorial Associa-
tion was kind enough to suggest. That
may be reserved for another in the fu-
ture, for the realization of Washing-
ton's desire would perhaps justify the
linking of another name with his, but
certainly nothing else would.

This gift, or the donor, has no pre-
tentions to such honor, and in no wise
interferes with the proposed university
or with any memorial. It has its own
more modest field and is intended to
cooperate with all kindred institutions,
including the Washington University,
if ever built, and it may be built if we
continue to increase in population as
heretofore for a generation. In this
hope I think the name should be
sacredly held in reserve. It is not a
matter of one million, or ten millions,
or even of twenty millions, but of
more, to fulfil wo'rthily the wish of
Washington, and I think no one would
presume to use that almost sacred
name except for a university of the
very first rank, established by national
authority, as he desired. Be it our
part in our day and generation to do

476

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

what wc can to extend the boundaries
of human knowledge by utilizing exist-
ing institutions.

Gentlemen, your work begins, your
aims are high; you seek to extend
known forces and to discover and
utilize new forces for the benefit of
man. Than this there can scarcely be
greater work. I wish you abundant
success and venture to prophesy that
through your efforts in cooperation
with those of kindred societies in
our' country, contributions to the ad-
vancement of the race through re-
search, will compare in the near future
not unfavorably with those of any
other land. Again, I thank you.

SCIENTIFIC WORK HERE AND
ABROAD.

Mr. Carnegie expressly states in
his trust deed that his chief purpose
is * to secure if possible for the United
States of America leadership in the
domain of discovery and the utiliza-
tion of new forces for the benefit of
man,' and this function of the institu-
tion naturally calls attention to the
place now occupied by the United
States in the world of science. In the
January number of The North Ameri-
can Review, Mr. Carl Snyder com-
plains that America is not doing its
fair share of scientific work. In a
much abler article in the following
number of the same review, Professor
Simon Newcomb gives more credit to
American science, but entitles his arti-
cle ' Conditions which discourage scien-
tific work in America,' and dwells espe-
cially on the lack of appreciation
shown by the general public, and espe-
cially by legislators, to scientific men
and institutions. Other journals have
discussed the question, the New York
Independent remarking : " It must be
acknowledged that in original contri-
butions to knowledge the United States
is not in the first rank with Germany,
France and England, but rather with
such countries as Russia, Italy, Swe-
den and Japan."

We take a more hopeful view of sci-
ence in America than the authors men-
tioned. Mr. Snyder, for example,

commits tlie obvious fallacy of com-
paring the productivity of the United
States with that of all other nations
combined. We can divide the intellec-
tual world into seven groups not very
unequal in population — Germany-Aus-
tria, Great Britain and its colonies,
France and Belgium, The United
States, Italy, Spain and Spanish Amer-
ica, Russia and a miscellaneous
group, including Scandinavia, Holland
and Japan. The scientific rank of
these groups is nearly that of the order
in which they are given, but even
greater credit should be allowed to the
German, French and English, owing
to their smaller populations. The
United States occupies pretty definitely
the middle place, being outclassed by
the three great intellectual nations,
and surpassing any one of the three
groups into which the other nations
have been divided. In so far as this
is correct, we do approximately our
average share of scientific research,
about one seventh of the work of the
world.

It is quite possible that our con-
temporary position is somewhat better
in work actually being accomplished
than in reputation. A scientific man
does not usually become eminent until
ten or twenty years after his work has
been accomplished, and the same would
naturally hold for a nation. We are
likely to think of Darwin, Pasteur or
Helmholtz, and to reproach America
for not having produced their equal.
But when these men were born and
educated the population of the United
States was comparatively small, and
its intellectual position was admittedly
inferior. It is only within the past
twenty-five years that true universities
have developed in the United States,
and positions have been opened that
can be occupied by men carrying on
scientific research. Those who first
availed themselves of these opportuni-
ties are only forty or fifty years old,
and while they are now doubtless doing
their best work, it is not yet recog-

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

477

nized outside the ranks of specialists.
It is but now that our opportunities
for education and researcli begin to
equal those of Germany, and twenty
years must be allowed before the har-
vest can be gathered, and a still longer
period before its quality and quantity
can be established.

A careful estimate of America's posi-
tion in the scientific world must con-
sider the different kinds of scientific
work. In the applications of science
we probably lead. We have had and have
great inventors, and in the progress of
engineering, manufactures, agriculture,
etc., where the individual is often un-
recognized, we are contributing more
than our share. If further we divide the
pure sciences into nine groups — mathe-
matics, astronomy, physics, chemistry,
geology, zoology, physiology, botany and
anthropology-psychology — the United
States would be doing its share if it
excelled in one science. We are clearly
inferior to several nations in mathe-
matics, physics, chemistry and phys-
iology; we are inferior in reputation,
but not obviously so in performance, in
zoology, botany and anthropology-
psychology; we are probably doing
work of greater volume and value than
any other nation in astronomy and in
geology.

DEMOCRACY AND THE RECOGNI-
TION OF SCIENCE.
Professor Newcomb's article in the
February number of the North Ameri-
can Review points out how much more
highly scientific men and scientific
academies are honored abroad than in
this country. In the European capitals
national leadership of every kind is
united in a homogeneous mass. The
men of science and of letters associate
with the political leaders. Scientific
eminence leads to social recognition and
political preferment, while those having
wealth and leisure engage in scientific
research. The national academies are
practically parts of the government.
In America great endowments are given

to universities, but the personality of
the professor is ignored; the govern-
ment makes large appropriations for
the scientific bureaus, but scarcely
recognizes the National Academy com-
posed of our most eminent scientific
men. Professor Newcomb hopes that
the Carnegie Institution may attract to
Washington men of world-wide reputa-
tion and strong personality, who will
introduce an academic element into the
political atmosphere of the capital.

The extent to which scientific work
has been discouraged in America by
lack of social recognition is difiicult to
determine. Greater honor for intellec-
tual distinction might attract young
men to a scientific career, whereas wor-
ship of wealth may direct too much of
the activity of the country to com-
merce. But the fact that conditions in
America differ from those in Euro-
pean nations and that conditions in the
twentieth century diflfer from those in
the nineteenth, does not of necessity in-
dicate a retrograde movement. Aristoc-
racies of wealth leisure and culture
have vmdoubtedly been favorable to sci-
ence, literature and art; but it may be
our part to prove that under existing
conditions a democracy is still more
favorable. The era of the amateur
scientist is passing; science must now
be advanced by the professional expert.
The student of science should be ac-
corded an income commensurate with
his services, but the routine of social
functions in foreign capitals can
scarcely be regarded as favorable to
scientific research. Darwin's ill-health
and enforced isolation in the country
enabled him to do the work he did,
whereas social engagements did not
improve Huxley's purely scientific
work. The lack of a hereditary aristoc-
racy and of a single national social
center may not in the end be hurtful to
science. If the scientific man is con-
sulted as an expert and his ad%nce is
followed, he may be Avilling to forego
invitations to dinner and the patronage
of society. Members of the cabinet and

478

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the congress had formerly more time
to cultivate the society of men of sci-
ence than at present, and perhaps men
of science could then also better spare
the time. The scientific men under the
government are now more highly re-
garded than ever before. Some years
ago they were looked upon as seekers
after public patronage and viewed with
a certain suspicion. Now they are
treated as members of the government,
not less essential than officers of the
army. In a recent debate in the senate
on the organization of a new depart-
ment of commerce, no senator was able
to say to what political party the pres-
ent head of the bureau of labor belongs,
but all agreed that his advice was of
special importance in framing the bill.
When the government employs skilled
experts in all departments, it no longer
requires the advice of an academy of
sciences. We should like to see the
National Academy entrusted with cer-
tain definite functions and we should
like to see scientific men treated with
even greater respect than at present,
but on the whole the necessary condi-
tions of a democracy and of an age of
specialization do not seem to be un-
favorable to scientific work.

WORK OF THE ECLIPSE EXPEDI-
TIONS.
The director of the Lick Observatory
has recently announced that the re-
markable coronal disturbance, which
was one of the notable features of the
Sumatra eclipse, has been found, by
Professor Perrine, to be above the
prominent and only sunspot visible
during eleven days. This interesting
discovery emphasizes the fact that re-
sults of much value can sometimes be
obtained at eclipses, even when the sun
is covered by thin clouds. It will be
remembered that a total eclipse of the
sun occurred on May 17, 1901. The
duration of the eclipse was so long, and
the possibilities of valuable work so
great, that many parties from difi"erent
countries visited Sumatra, Mauritius,

and other islands in the path of
totality. Early reports announced that
failure was general on account of
clouds. Later reports, however, by the
directors of the different parties, show
that, while many observers accom-
plished little or nothing, others ob-
tained satisfactory results. Taken alto-
gether the observations are of high
value, and will justify the expense in-
curred. Congress made a generous, if
somewhat tardy, appropriation for the
observance of this eclipse, and a party
was sent out, in charge of Professor A.
N. Skinner, embracing six members of
the Naval Observatory, and five others.
Professor Skinner very wisely decided
to divide his party into several divi-
sions. The main party, including him-
self and Professor Barnard, were sta-
tioned at Solok, which seemed to offer
the best chance for a clear sky. At the
same place were Messrs. Abbott and
Draper, of the Smithsonian Institution,
and some English astronomers. Little
of value was obtained at Solok, owing
to clouds. One of the smaller parties,
however, at Sawah-Loento, a short dis-
tance to the east, had better success.
Results of high value were obtained by
Dr. Mitchell, of Columbia University,
and by Professors Burton and Smith,
of the Massachusetts Institute of Tech-
nology. Perhaps the only place where
a perfectly clear sky was found was at
Fort de Kock, and fine photographs
were there made by Dr. W. J. Hum-
phreys, of the University of Virginia,
and by Mr. G. H. Peters, of the Naval
Observatory. The party sent out by the
Lick Observatory, in charge of Pro-
fessor Perrine, was stationed at Pa-
dang. Throughout the totality thin
clouds covered the sun. These clouds
undoubtedly interfered with some of the
photographic results, especially those
which were concerned with the search
for an intra-mercurial planet. But the
polariscopic and spectroscopic results,
as well as the photographs of the inner
and middle corona appeared to be only
slightly affected by the clouds. The

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

479

Amherst College party in charge of
Professor Todd was at Singkep, where
the sky was very unfavorable. At
Mauritius the English astronomers had
a fair sky. This eclipse well illustrates
the importance of a large number of
stations scattered along the belt of
totality, for in spite of the clouds which
widely prevailed the results from the
stations, as a whole, are very satisfac-
tory and will encourage similar efforts
at coming eclipses.

THE SPECTRUM OF LIGHTNING.
Very wide interest has been taken in
the spectrum of lightning, photographs
of which have been obtained at the Har-
vard College Observatory. These were
made by pointing a telescope, provided
with an objective prism toward a por-
tion of the sky where lightning was
particularly bright. The spectrum is
not always the same. Many of the
lines appear to be due to hydrogen. The
first line is a broad, bright band, ex-
tending from wave-length 3,830 to
3,930, and may be identical with the
nebular line 3,875. The spectrum of
lightning is curiously like that of the
new star in Perseus, and other new
stars. Now that the method of obtain-
ing such photographs has been shown,
it would seem possible to obtain a large
number of them, taken under different
conditions for a more complete study of
the subject.

THE MANUFACTURE OF SUL-
FURIC ACID.

Of all the products of chemical in-
dustry, sulfuric acid has always held
the first place, and its importance in-
creases yearly, since there is hardly a
branch of manufacture in which it is
not largely used. Its manufacture by
the lead-chamber process has been uni-
versal until \vithin a few years. This
requires a large plant and the acid ob-
tained is dilute. For many purposes
this must be concentrated at no incon-
siderable expense. Vessels of platinum

are very generally used and a single
still may cost upwards of $10,000.
With the development of the coal-tar
industry in Germany, and especially in
connection with the rapidly increasing
manufacture of artificial indigo, has
come a demand for the more concen-
trated acid in large quantities.

That imder the catalytic action of
finely divided platinum, sulfur dioxid
can be burned to sulfur trioxid, which
with water gives sulfuric acid, has
been known for nearly three quarters
of a century, and in 1831 a patent was
secured in England for the manufacture
of the acid by this process. But in
spite of vast amoimts of effort devoted
to it, and by some of the world's most
distinguished chemists, this has never
been made a practical success. Under
the stimulus of the demand of the color
factories of Germany, this problem has
been very actively attacked in the past
few years by their chemists, and at
last the efforts have been crowned with
the desired reward.

This work has been chiefly carried
on under the auspices of the Badischen
Anilin- und Soda Fabrik at Ludwigs-
hafen. Theoretically the process is a
model of simplicity. The gases from
the pyrites burners, consisting chiefly of
sulfur dioxid, oxygen and nitrogen from
the air used, are, after purification and
cooling, led through cylinders contain-
ing plates on which a contact mixture,
with platinum as one of its constit-
uents, is placed. The sulfur dioxid
burns with the oxygen present in the
gas, giving the trioxid, which is ab-
sorbed in a dilute acid. The acid ob-
tained may be pure sulfuric acid, or
may contain an excess of the trioxid —
the fuming or Nordhausen acid. Sev-
eral years of most patient investigation
were, however, required before the con-
ditions were discovered by which the
process could be kept in continuous
operation, there being a great tendency
for the platinum mixture to cease its
work after a few days' or even hours'
use. This was due to the presence of

48o

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

impurities in the gas from the burners
and especially to arsenic. The slight-
est trace of this element at once in-
hibits the action of the platinum.

The success of this process has not
only introduced a competitor which
must eventually very much restrict the
use of lead chambers, but one which
possesses two important advantages,
one in that it is more economical to
manufacture a strong acid at once, thus
doing away with concentration plants,
and the other that it furnishes an acid
which is free from arsenic. This may
well be considered the greatest triumph
of technical chemistry in the last dec-
ade.

SCIENTIFIC ITEM 8.

Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler, pro-
fessor of philosophy and education, and
since the resignation of Dr. vSeth Low
acting-president of Columbia Univer-
sity, was elected president of the Uni-
versity on January 6 by unanimous
vote of the trustees. The ceremonies of
installation will take place on April 19.

Johns Hopkins University cele-
brated on February 21 and 22 its
twenty-fifth anniversary, when Presi-
dent Remsen was formally installed.
Dr. D. C. Oilman, president emeritus,
delivered the commemorative address on
the afternoon of February 21. Presi-
dent Eemsen made his inaugural ad-
dress on February 22.

' The Races of Europe,' originally
published as a series of articles in this
magazine, by Professor W. Z. Ripley,
of the Massachusetts Institute of Tech-
nology, and professor-elect of economics
at Harvard University, has been
' crowned ' by the award of the prix
Bertillon of the Society d' Anthropol-
ogic of Paris. — Professor J. W. Gregory
has been appointed acting head of the

Geological Survey of Victoria, with a
view to its reorganization. — Dr. Eugen
Warming has been appointed director
of the Geological Survey of Denmark.
— At the meeting of the Paris Academy
of Sciences on January 6, M. Bouquet
de la Grye, the engineer, succeeded to
the presidency.

Mr. Andrew Carnegie and the de-
scendants of Peter Cooper have respec-
tively given $300,000 to Cooper Union,
New York City, doubling the gifts made
by them to the Union three years ago.
— Mr. and Mrs. Harold S. McCormick,
of Chicago, have founded a memorial
institute for infectious diseases to com-
memorate their son who died recently
from scarlet fever. The endowment of
the institute is said to be $1,000,000.
Dr. Frank Billings is president of the
board of trustees and Dr. Ludvig Hek-
toen has been appointed director of the
institute. — ^The Laboratory of Engi-
neering, presented to the Stevens Insti-
tute of Technology by Mr. Andrew Car-
negie, at a cost of $55,000, was dedi-
cated on February 6. — The British Na-
tional Physical Laboratory at Bushy
House will be officially opened on
March 19.

Dr. W. A. Herdman, F.R.S., pro-
fessor of zoology at University College,
Liverpool, sailed for Ceylon on Decem-
ber 26, 1901, to undertake for the gov-
ernment an investigation of the pearl
oyster fisheries of the Gulf of Manaar.
— Professor Ralph S. Tarr, of Cornell
University, is spending the winter in
geological study in Italy and will spend
the spring and summer in the study of
the glacial deposits of Germany and the
British Isles. — Professor C. H. Eigen-
mann has leave of absence during
March, and will visit some of the caves
of western Cuba to secure a series of
the cave fauna.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE

MONTHLY.

APEIL, 1902.

IS THIS A DEGENEEATE AGE?

By Professor J. J. STEVENSON,

NEW YORK UNIVERSITY.

n~^00 many writers and speakers, in discussing the intellectual and
-*- social conditions of our time, find little of good and a super-
abundance of bad. Everywhere they discover evidence of individual
and social degeneracy. The love of literature and of pure science is
disappearing ; college training is debased in that the purely intellectual
side is neglected for the practical ; everything is dominated by an intense
commercialism, which destroys men's finer instincts and lowers the
general moral tone of the community.

One may not ignore these utterances; nor may he dismiss them
flippantly as wailings of disappointed or unsuccessful men, who would
make a virtue of necessity. Men's goals may difiPer, but their ambition
is the same; it ill becomes one to scoff at another; scoflBng is bred of
ignorance as much in the fortune-chaser who ridicules the student as
in the student who contemns the man with the muckrake. The indict-
ment against our age has been drawn by men, who, from their stand-
point, have been successful and have no grievance against the world.
Many of them belong to the class which, for a long period, dominated
thought and controlled the policy of nations. Their statements deserve
such careful consideration that one does well to inquire whether or not
the conditions are as represented and to what extent they are evidence
of either intellectual or social degeneracy. The subject is a broad one
and, in treating it, one may adopt only the rambling method of the
essay, that he may move hither and yon as necessity may dictate.

Prior to the Civil War, our colleges, modeled for the most part

VOL. LX. 31.

482 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

upon German gymnasia, offered such mental training as was supposed
to be prerequisite for professional study. But new conditions arose with
the close of that war — the country had discovered its mineral wealth
and had accumulated capital for development; the world had learned
of America, and its surplus population poured in upon us, ignorant of
our laws, alien to our modes of thought, yet eligible to citizenship, to
a voice in our government. At once, the demand arose for an education
adapted to the needs of those who did not intend to become lawyers,
clergymen or physicians, who required a broader, stronger training,
fitting men to cope with the new difficulties and to scflve the new
problems.

It is true that, long before the Civil War, many eminent men had
recognized the inherent defects in our college system. They asserted
that training in classical languages should not be the important feature
of college education; that the Eoman church no longer controlled
thought or education and that Latin had ceased to be the language of
learned men, while changed conditions in professional study had
rendered thorough knowledge of Greek equally unessential, so that those
languages should be replaced by others as necessary now as those had
been. The colleges themselves had recognized the transition and Latin
and Greek were taught, with few exceptions, not with a view to impart
knowledge of the tongues but with a view to mental training. In other
words, Latin and Greek were employed for mental exercise as Indian
clubs are employed for muscular exercise in a gymnasium. But no
material change was made in curricula ; natural science was introduced,
but was taught in a most elementary wa}', while the most precious years
of a lad's life were spent as before in monotonous study of 'paradigms
and syntax.

The abrupt demand for better education found our colleges unpre-
pared to meet it. The faculties were composed for the most part of
men trained after the accepted method, students by habit, living in a
cosmos of their own and conceiving of the outer world very largely as
they constructed it on a priori principles. As they knew practically
nothing about the conditions which made a radical change necessary,
the demand was like a rude awakening. Makeshifts were offered as
tubs thrown to a whale ; subjects dealing with everyday life were intro-
duced into the ' regular ' course and the student was led to think in
a somewhat 'lower intellectual plane,' that is to say, more nearly in
accordance with the actual condition of things. Under the old system
he was in the nineteenth century world, but very truly not of it ; under
the modified system, he was permitted, during part of the college hours,
to be actually in touch with it; facts were dealt with sometimes in
political economy, a bit of physiology found its way into psychology,
the chemistry of common things became a legitimate subject of dis-

IS THIS A DEGENERATE AGE? 483

cussion. So-called scientific courses were added in many cases, but
usually they were so ill-adjusted as to be laughing-stocks for those taking
the formal courses.

But mere makeshifts could not suffice; the country's material de-
velopment was advancing rapidly but not always profitably. Competent
men were too few; the successful pit-boss was a poor mining superin-
tendent amid novel conditions ; the land-surveyor was helpless in a new
region; the iron-founder of high repute proved himself a hopeless
blunderer when tried on strange ores and furnaces. The successful men
were those who had been trained in the American technical schools
or in those of Germany. Their success marked out the line of needed
preparation and emphasized the demand for men broadly educated in
principles as well as in practical applications of science. Schools were
established and courses planned to meet the requirements. The number
of scientific and technical students increased rapidly, and, in not a few
institutions, soon exceeded, as it does still, that of students adhering
to older so-called literary courses. Certainly this condition affords good
ground for the complaint respecting college education.

Yet not so. The desertion of the, so to speak, unapplied side is
apparent, not real. There is no such desertion. Unquestionably, of
the students now in American colleges and high schools, the percentage
taking modified courses of the older type is much smaller than it was
forty years ago; but that is not the proper percentage for use in com-
parison. Not relation to the total number of students but relation to
the total population is the basis for comparison. From this standpoint
one sees that the proportion adhering to the unapplied side has increased
more rapidly than the population — indeed, one may make a greater
restriction and say that the number of those taking classical courses
has increased out of proportion to the population. There has been no
decrease, on the contrary there has been an increase, of interest in
literary study, while, on the other hand, thousands are acquiring mental
training and much of mental culture by pursuing difficult courses
almost unknown to our colleges of forty years ago. Formerly, the
majority of college men had professional life in view; now it is 'the
thing' to have a college degree, without reference to one's intended
calling.

But this avails nothing. The proof of the pudding is in the eating;
and we are told that no great poet now lives among English-speaking
peoples and that in our country no eminent writer has arisen within
two decades — this, because 'every man's mind is turned to material
things.' Eecently our patriotic pride was wounded by the announce-
ment that America has produced no Shakespeare, no Newton, no Coper-
nicus, no men of some other kinds — and this, too, because of our
devotion to gross things. One may remark here, parenthetically, that

484 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

when we consider that, in all the centuries of Eng. ish-speaking times,
the race has produced only one Shakespeare, the condition is not so
saddening as it might be ; the less so, since in our own day our country
has produced a Newcomb in mathematics, a Eowland in physics and
others in other branches of pure science, each of whom deserves a niche,
not far, at least, from that of Newton. Were Newton living in the
United States to-day he would have no lonely preeminence, he would
be but one of a galaxy. A later writer tells us that now, instead of the
fires of the creative imagination, we have the fires of the mogul engine
— that we cannot have both at the same time.

The creative imagination in the limited literary sense was most
unfettered amid primitive conditions, when rhapsodists such as the
authors of Homer, the Sagas or the Kalevala chanted the exploits of
gods or heroes. As men's experience widened, as their concepts in-
creased in number, as their thought became philosophic, the product
of imagination changed in form as well as in character until it dealt
not with environments familiar alike to man and beast, but with broad
principles. The poem in simple form, possibly the most beautiful form,
appeals to the childlike side of our nature. Great poetical works, such
as those of Shakespeare and Milton, appeal to us not because of their
poetic form, not so much because of their imagery as because of the
subtle philosophy which pervades them. Milton appealed to very few
in his own day as a poet; he appeals to not many more in our day.
Shakespeare's wit has been equaled by later dramatists ; his constructive
skill has been excelled by some; but his critical insight into human
nature remains without rival. The Shakespeares and Miltons of our
day write in prose.

Works such as those of Shakespeare and Milton would be an
anachronism in our day. Men read carefully, thoughtfully ; they think
quickly and, as compared with earlier times, accurately. Arguments
clothed with rhetorical figures have little power — one has not time in
which to scrape off tinsel in order to reach the substance. Eeading
matter must be trivial or serious ; if trivial, thoroughly so, that it may
while away hours of weariness ; if serious, it must be deserving of study ;
working hours are too few to be wasted on that which brings no reward.
Here one finds reason for the remarkable sale of ephemeral works as
well as for the equally remarkable sale of important works. There
could be no better evidence of the intellectual growth in our day, a
growth not confined to the more favored classes, but characterizing all
froic the richest to the poorest. Doctrinaires may sneer at the reading
propensities of the working classes and may assert that little good can
come from reading the stuff which they choose. Others recognize grate-
fully that the novels now read by such people are better morally and
intellectually than those which served as mental food for the more

IS THIS A DEGENERATE AGE? 485

favored classes of a century ago. The vastly increased number of
students in our colleges and high schools is but the natural outcome of
this intellectual growth.

Unfortunately, this condition gives room for apprehension; the
increase in number of students is said to be so far out of proportion to
the population that there is danger of over-education; the professions
will be overcrowded with ill-paid workers, who might have gained a
comfortable living in other callings. This foreboding is not new; it
was old a century ago and was as true then as it is now. Many good
men, mistaking their vocation, have gone into professions, though fitted
by nature to be only hewers of wood and drawers of water, while others
have wasted their lives in professional work, who would have been
successful as merchants. There is no danger that the condition will
be worse because of increased facility for acquiring an education.

If higher education were merely preparation for service in the so-
called learned professions of law, medicine and theology, there might
be room for anxiety. But higher education has no longer an aim so
narrow as that — it is not to meet the needs of the few, it is to fit the
many for life's work. Fifty years ago, college life certainly tended to
unfit men for the sterner realities of life, for the whole course of training
was as far removed as possible from relation to the ordinary conditions ;
but not so to-day. For the most part, college professors are no longer
recluses; they are expected to take part in social movements; even in
politics; many of them, especially of those on the scientific side, are
interested in vast business enterprises, partly because they gain greater
opportunity for investigation and partly because, as investigators, they
need incomes greater than the meager salaries paid by colleges. Train-
ing by such men is very different from that by closet students.

All this is conceded, but only that one may make more strongly the
assertion that everything looks to the practical, that real culture is
neglected, that we are living on the literature of an earlier generation,
for nothing new is produced. The difficulty lies in the vagueness of
the terms 'culture' and 'literature.' The writer has made diligent
search among college men for a clean-cut definition of 'culture.' The
results are not wholly satisfactory. Among professors, there is a tend-
ency to regard cultiire as that mental condition attained through
close application to the studies embraced within the definer's depart-
ment; some in professional life appear to think that it is a something
acquired only by close application to such studies as have no practical
application; they are inclined to deny the title of culture study to
modei'n languages; had they lived a century and a half ago, doubtless
they would have denied that title to the ancient languages, which at
that time were studied solely with a view to use; a great majority of
the older college graduates maintain that it is that peculiar mental

486 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

polish derived from pursuit of the old classical course, and regard them-
selves as examples — a comfortable frame of mind, truly. Evidently
mental culture and mental refinement are synonymous terms to most
of those who use the former term, but this is not sufficient; mere refine-
ment must not be all, there must be strength in addition. The all-
important culture studies are those wliich make also for robustness,
which enable a man to see broadly, to make inductions safely and to
tell to others clearly what he wishes to communicate. Such studies
are taught now as never before and with them are taught, also as never
before, other studies which make mostly for refinement. A boy entering
college to-day must have better acquaintance with history and English
literature than had seniors in most of our colleges fifty years ago. Long
steps have been taken by several of our States toward making law and
medicine actually, instead of nominally, learned professions. Men must
have some education before entering upon professional study.

Similarly, the significance of 'literature' must be made definite;
it changes with the times. Medieval literature consisted almost wholly
of treatises upon harmless topics — such as involved no danger of dispute
with church authorities; after the revival of learning, literature was
based chiefiy upon the newly revealed classics of Greece and Eome;
still later, historical disquisitions and philosophical discussions in various
forms made up the mass — in each period, that mass concerned matters
then most widely interesting. The survivors of each preceding period
must have chanted jeremiads over the intellectual decline. In our age,
those who love the poem, the essay, the drama, the polished novel and
philosophical history, written with a purpose, do find themselves lost.
They cannot see good in the development of a new literature, embracing
philosophy, archeology, sociology, the natural sciences — a strong litera-
ture, often as polished as the old, and showing on the whole a virility
unknown even fifty years ago. It reflects the spirit of the age, it is
truthful, accurate, honest.

And this brings us to the essence of the whole matter. Stripped of
all incidentals, the assertion is that, neglecting mental culture, we have
been led to neglect man's higher interests ; we have fallen into a slough
where everything is subordinated to gain and the rights of man are not
regarded; a grasping selfishness brings about combinations in manu-
facturing interests and makes possible the accumulation of vast for-
tunes; a base 'commercialism' pervades all society; the body politic is
corrupt and honesty has well-nigh disappeared.

The charge that mental culture has been neglected has been con-
sidered; it is not true. The other charges remain.

For one hundred years the civilized world has been undergoing re-
peated transitions. At the beginning of the nineteenth century men
lived in quiet; there was no haste. With unfavorable wind, a sloop

IS THIS A DEGENERATE AGE? 487

might require five days instead of two for the voyage from Albany to
Xew York, just as a vessel, under similar conditions, thirty years later,
might be six or seven weeks on the way from London to New York;
but the delay caused little more of irritation among the passengers
than would be caused to-day if the Empire Express were two hours late.
Even sixty years ago, a journey to St. Louis was an undertaking equal
to that of crossing the ocean ; in each case, the expectant traveler made
his will and his friends assembled to bid a sorrowful farewell. Now
one makes less preparation for a tour around the globe. Sixty years
ago, mails were irregular and postage was from ten to twenty times
what it is now. The arrival of a stranger in a village was an event; he
brought information from the outer world. The man who had been
one thousand miles from home, received more consideration in a large
town than is granted in a petty hamlet to a full-developed globe-trotter.
Even sixty years ago, forges or petty furnaces, scattered about the
country supplied the necessities of the community.

But steamboats, railways and telegraphs brought all parts of the
land into actual contact; the discovery of petroleum and the cheapening
of kerosene by improved methods of refining carried light into the most
secluded corners, and added several hours of life to each day among
farming communities; the vast expansion of manufactures during the
Civil War led to modifications in educational methods, which in their
turn made possible the utilization of our mineral resources. Each
advance made others imperative. The repertoire of discoveries in phys-
ical science was ransacked in search of those which could be utilized
by inventors ; every discovery, every invention was welcomed and tested.

Improvements followed in such rapid succession that one, in review-
ing the last thirty years, becomes confused and the movements appear
as irregular and unrelated as those in a quickly-revolving kaleidoscope.
The age of Holley-Mushet-Bessemer steel burst upon us and revolution-
ized not merely our railroad systems but also our ship-building and
architecture. Henry's telegraph, introduced by Morse's energy and
Vail's receiver, was spread as a network over the whole country; the
researches of Helmholtz and Lissajou led up to Bell's telephone; Fara-
day's discovery grew into the dynamo, which introduced the age of
electricity.

But these changes made more of life, thrust more into life so that
more was required of life. The transition or rather the series of
transitions was severe. It is the commonplace of history that no great
advance is made, except, for the time, at the expense of human life or
comfort. Steamships have driven from the sea fleets of vessels and
have made the sailor almost a thing of the past; railroads destroyed
the prosperity of communities bordering the great turnpikes crossing
Maryland, Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana, and compelled abandon-

488 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ment of the furnaces whose ruins have been described as picturesque
additions to Pennsylvania's scenery. The sewing-machine caused untold
misery, as did the power-loom, the shoe-machine and other inventions,
which the world now regards as unmixed blessings.

Progress in manufactures, combined with increasing ease of com-
munication and transportation, made the business world more compact
and intensified competition. The struggle for existence led to frequent
changes in method, at once destructive and constructive. In iron manu-
facture, small furnaces soon brought only loss to their owners; in
trade, the small shopkeeper, who idled for half the day waiting for
chance customers, found himself neglected. The story was alike for
all. The owner of the petty furnace, like the keeper of the petty shop,
was displaced by his more energetic rival, who recognized the coming
change and so arranged that by smaller percentage profits on greater
sales he might secure increased profit on his business capital. Men
may groan in bitterness of spirit as they please, they may denounce the
avarice of a manufacturer who sees fit to make the iron and to convert
it into the finished product, all within one plant; or that of the mer-
chant, who chooses to sell dry goods, shoes, groceries and hardware on a
great scale under one roof; they may denounce, if they will, the man
who, having gained the advantage over his less energetic neighbors,
strives to prevent another from depriving him of it — the denouncing
amounts to nothing. The condition is normal to the advance of the
race, for, while bringing disaster to the few, it brings increasing comfort
to the many. The energetic man, other things being equal, wins in the
race for money, fame, usefulness; in this world every man receives
practically full pay for the net average of his abilities. This is nature's
law; no legislation avails for its repeal.

This is not the place to discuss the propriety of placing limitations
upon combinations of manufacturing interests; the wisdom of per-
mitting the accumulation of vast fortunes; the justice of permitting
such fortunes to be inherited so as to support descendants in idleness
or dissipation. Such questions are irrelevant in this connection, for
we have merely to ascertain whether or not the commercial development
of the last half-century has led to a lowering of the moral tone and to
the injury of mankind.

Just here one may halt. The term 'commercialism,' like * culture,'
is so vague, so comprehensive as to be elusive. It certainly is service-
able. If a man fail to secure funds for some object dear to him, the
failure is not due to any deficiency on his part or even to the nature
of the project, but only to 'commercialism.' In such cases, the term
is usually synonymous with common sense.

But in a broader way, the term refers to a supposed general de-
terioration of personal honor, due to the commercial life of our com-

IS THIS A DEGENERATE AGE? 489

munity. As the whole commercial system is based upon buying and
selling, men have come to regard all things as fairly objects for barter
and to look upon honor as something transcendental. This conception,
the foundation for so many pessimistic forebodings, reflects no credit
upon the knowledge or good sense of those who accept it and it may
be dismissed as purely a priori. There never was a time when business
honor was so high as now; the whole commercial fabric is based upon
it. Whether the moral sense has been quickened or experience has
taught that honesty is the best policy, matters not — the fact remains
that in business a man must be honest and honorable ; dishonest dealing
is fatal. Dishonesty certainly exists as it always has existed and as
it always will exist until man^s nature changes. It is no novelty, for
long ago it was asserted that every man has his price. But there is
proportionately less now than ever before.

If ^commercialism' be that which destroys man's better part and
makes him ready to subordinate everything to success in his ventures,
which induces a soulless indifference to the welfare and even rights of
neighbors, competitors and employees, surely we have here no nineteenth
century disease over whose discovery so great ado should be made. If
perverted ambition, selfishness, lack of principle and indifference to
the rights of others be what is meant by 'commercialism,' we have but
a new name for that which is as old and as widespread as the human
race. It is the same thing, whether in the merchant's counting room
or in the clergyman's study. When Napoleon asked contemptuously
" What are the lives of a thousand men to me ?' his spirit was the same
as that of an oppressive employer; the efforts made by the great
'trusts' of to-day to overcome competition differ in no wise from the
cutting of prices between cross-road stores of fifty years ago, or the
tricky manipulation of ecclesiastical councils in Constantine's time —
or even later.

Inordinate anxiety for wealth and for the power which its possessor
can wield is not peculiar to the commercialism of our time. It was
quite as inordinate in the quiet days of one hundred years ago
as in the golden days of Eome. It has always led to oppression and
it has always contaminated society and politics. The satirists of Eome
inveighed against its evils as bitterly as do the moralists of our day;
the Israelites knew the burden long enough before Solomon's day to
make proverbs respecting it; it led the Assyrians along many a bloody
path in western Asia; the patrician of ancient Italy lusted for gold
as earnestly as did the merchant and in modem Italy one can find
no distinction in this respect between the noble and the contemned 'com-
merciante.' Avarice corrupted politics in the golden age of Eome and
in the Elizabethan age of England as thoroughly as during the Second
Empire of France or during the Croker Empire in commercial New

490 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

York. The conditions which some would have us believe due to com-
mercialism are but manifestations of man's fundamental belief that
might makes right.

In this twentieth century, when the peoples of this world are no
longer isolated communities, when bonds of steel bind all together,
when through causes determined in long past geological ages some
nations are agricultural, others manufacturing and others still confined
to mining, so that all are mutually dependent, modes of thought and
expression, proper enough in medieval times, are no longer wise, are
truly anachronisms. One exhibits no evidence of knowledge or of good
judgment who asserts that a professional life is of necessity purer,
truer or loftier in aim than a life devoted to commercial pursuits. It
is not long, in human history, since the only honorable profession was
that of arms — thence to theology, law and medicine was a far reach
and that to commerce still further. Then each caste, like Sophomores
in college, avenged its injuries on that below. But that day has
passed, never to return, and thoughtful men everywhere recognize that,
in all callings alike, success depends on intellectual power of much
the same type, and that the old-time distinction between professional
and non-professional men exists in name rather than in fact.

Ours is an age of commerce, an age of devotion to material things ;
but that devotion has none of grossness nor is it in any sense incon-
sistent with a just devotion to higher things. Thus far, the argument
has been largely negative, an effort to show that this age is not worse,
but possibly better than its predecessors. The positive argument
remains, to show that, because of commercialism, this age on the whole
is vastly better than its predecessors.

The twentieth century opens with the establishment of a Permanent
Court of International Arbitration, for which the world is indebted
to the great commercial nations. The Hague conference was called
by the Emperor of Russia, a nation not usually regarded as commercial,
but that conference was due primarily to the course of Great Britain
and the United States, which had tested arbitration and, by submitting
to awards, not always just, had set the example for other nations. Peace
between nations depends no longer merely upon armies and navies.
War is no longer a matter affecting only the internal affairs of the
nations directly involved; it concerns all, for commercial bonds unite
all. Divine right of kingly authority is becoming an abstraction; the
king bows to his subject and restrains his greed for conquest when
bankers refuse to finance his loans. The exigencies of commerce have
aroused a public opinion which curbs rapacity and demands arbitration
of international disputes. War between Great Britain and the United
States is well-nigh impossible — it would lead to financial ruin in both
countries. The terrible conflict between Slav and Teuton, for which

IS THIS A DEGENERATE AGE? 491

so many wait in dread, is likely to remain a nightmare. Great Britain
needs Russia's grain; Russia needs the manufactures of Britain and
Germany. Germans control Russia's trade even in far-ofE Siberia, and
Germans are teaching Russians how to develop their resources. The
rabble in each country may rave as they please — a power mightier than
they makes for peace.

The same influence is exerted for maintenance of friendly relations
within the commercial nations themselves. Compulsory arbitration
of labor disputes has been established in some portions of the British
empire and several of our own states have taken the initial step by
appointing arbitration commissions to serve when called upon. The
trend of public opinion among us was shown during the recent steel
strike, when arbitration was urged not only by journals defending the
strikers but also by those which denounced the strike as wholly un-
justifiable. Individual differences, settled in olden time by combat,
are settled now by arbitration before judge or jury in open court; the
day is not far distant when differences between organizations, large
and small, will be settled in the same way. Here, too, our vast com-
mercial organizations make for peace, since their gigantic interests are
so interwoven with the equally gigantic interests of labor that
serious interruption of friendly relations threatens destruction to
both.

Improvement in politics is not very distinct to those living in our
great cities, for the present degradation is of comparatively recent
origin and due largely to foreign immigration. Cities, like sieves,
permit most of the good to pass through and the worthless to remain,
while universal suffrage enables this residuum to convert them into
sinks, which receive partial cleansing only when rogues disagree and
the 'outs' seek revenge by temporary combination with decent people.
Leaving the cities out of consideration as temporary anomalies, one
finds that men holding positions of honor and trust are expected to
perform their duties faithfully. Charges of corruption are not bandied
about freely by reputable journals as they were sixty years ago; in
Great Britain and the United States, errors in policy are not charged
to venality, but to lack of common sense. Fair dealing is so ingrained
in commercial life that we are coming to expect it naturally in political
life. ' Senator Sorghum,' the creation of a jester, belongs so much to
the past that his utterances afford only amusement. Commercial
Britain has the best city governments in the world ; its civil and diplo-
matic service shows a sense of honor as high as that of the American
army; within the United States, civil service reform has gone far
toward removing the evils of patronage which degraded our politics
even less than thirty years ago. It is true that politics here and in
Great Britain are far removed from millennial conditions, but another

492 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

half -century of equal advance would bring them very near to the ideal
condition.

The American employer discovered, long before the missionary,
that the condition of a man's body has much to do with his openness
to reason. Men, well-fed, well-clad and comfortably housed, are more
efficient in every respect than are men scantily supplied and embittered
against the dealings of Providence. The recognition of this fact — the
recognition of manhood in the employee — is the basis of American
commercialism, the true secret of its success. This recognition is
less marked in Great Britain, where all are bound by traditions from
which men free themselves slowly and with difficulty, but the keenness
of American competition is compelling the recognition. In our land,
mere animal strength counts for little in man, machinery takes its
place; the steam shovel has displaced thousands of hands, but it has
made necessary an immense number of intelligent men; our rolling
mills are no longer crowded with an army of laborers, dull, sluggish,
automatic; the work is done by a, so to speak, handful of men, keen-
eyed and alert. Of course, this recognition may be due to no altruism
on the employer's part, but that is wholly aside from the issue — we
are considering conditions, not motives.

Increased wages came with increased value of service — whether
through the employer's wisdom or through compulsion, matters not.
Decreased cost of living came with increased wages, for, owing to the
introduction of machinery, wages did not keep pace with capacity for
production. The condition of the mechanic in respect of food, lodgings
and general surroundings has shown steady improvement during the
last thirty years. In the United States, food is cheap and abundant;
the homes of our laboring classes are better than anywhere else. Away
from towns, owners of mines or great manufacturing establishments,
knowing that men, to do good work, must be well cared for, build
comfortable homes for their employees and charge low rental. Many
of them recognize a certain responsibility; they encourage thrift and
urge, even assist, employees to own their dwellings. Mr. Carnegie is
not the single instance of this type of employer, as many suppose.
He was one of the first to develop the plan, but many have followed
in his steps. Even in New York city, where the tenement problem is
so complicated, owing to the form of Manhattan Island, the accom-
modations for those with mechanics' wages are inviting, while the
wretched conditions in the Italian quarter are, to say the least, an
improvement upon those in Naples.

This recognition of those, who in non-commercial countries are
regarded as the 'mudsills of society,' — to use the language of an ante-
bellum senator from North Carolina — has had a reflex influence upon
those living amid more favorable surroundings. One hundred years

IS THIS A DEGENERATE AGE? 493

ago any hovel answered for the poor man, while the rich neglected what,
in our day, are called ordinary sanitary precautions. Now a board
of health is an essential part of city government and it has powers
which, in other departments, would be regarded as despotic. Problems
of ventilation, space of living apartments, sewage disposal and street
cleaning are those for the sanitary engineer, whose profession is digni-
fied and requires years of preparation. The hydraulic engineer no
longer expends his chief efforts upon quays, harbor walls or dams;
those are still important, but far more important are problems relating
to water-supply for cities, towns and even small villages. Nothing
bearing upon public health is too insignificant for notice; neglect by
a traction company to provide closed cars on a cool day awakes editors
to write indignantly. Sanitary regulations have led to sanitary living,
so that, in spite of the fact that men work more intensely than ever
before, they break down less rapidly and fourscore is more nearly
man's expectation of life now than was threescore and ten fifty years
ago.

The rights of man as man before the law are acknowledged by the
two great commercial nations as never before and as by no other
nations. A defendant no longer rests under the assumption of guilt;
he is innocent until the charge has been proved; a married woman is
no longer merged in her husband; in the eye of the law, she is at
least her husband's equal. The poor man and his wealthy neighbor
stand on a common level in the court room and at the polls. Taxes
are distributed justly and the rich, as well as the less favored, bear an
equitable share of the governmental burdens.

Having granted universal suffrage, the two great commercial
nations have been compelled to recognize man's intellectual needs. They
offer opportunity for education to all, even straining the prerogative
of government to do so. Education, free from ecclesiastical control,
is no longer a privilege obtainable only by purchase, it is the right of
every man. More, it is maintained that government is bound not
only to offer the opportunity, but also to compel its acceptance. The
poorest man has the way open in our land from the primary school to
the close of professional preparation, practically without cost. Ma-
chiavelli has grouped the people of any nation into three classes —
those who think for themselves, always few in number ; those who think
as others think, the intelligent middle class; those who do not think,
the great mass of the population. His grouping is still applicable to
Great Britain and the United States, but our schools, our sharp political
contests and the wide circulation of journals have led to great changes
in the relative proportions of the classes. The growth of liberal parties
and the increasing independent vote, with which politicians have to
reckon, are manifestations of the change.

494 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Commercialism, leading to such broad results for all, has a marked
influence upon those who have led in the advance. American men
of commerce, be they lawyers, merchants, manufacturers, bankers or
railroad managers, acknowledge the community of interest and seek
fame or immortality as philanthropists. They cherish hospitals, they
endeavor to improve the condition of the poor, they found universities,
they endow public libraries, they establish vast museums. A Howard,
a Shaftesbury was a strange phenomenon. There are many Howards
and Shaftesburys in our great cities, who, having acquired or inherited
great wealth, spend their hours not in selfish indulgence but in devoted
efforts to make the world better and happier.

One cannot ignore the fact there are many, whose only enjojnnent
apparently is found in flaunting their wealth in the face of the poor,
but they are no longer objects of admiration on the one hand or of
fear on the other; the community looks upon them with mingled pity
and contempt. Selfish employers are not unknown, oppression has
not ceased, poverty, suffering and crime are on every side; in many
respects, the evil more than counterbalances the good ; all this we know ;
but we know also that, in all that makes for good, the condition in
the two great commercial nations to-day is far, far beyond that existing
in the golden age of Eome or Greece or in the Elizabethan age
of England. The very anxiety to relieve the oppressed makes us
familiar with the prevailing sorrow and leads those, who under former
conditions would have been ignorant or unobserving, to their gloomy
pessimism respecting the future.

As for the fires of creative imagination, one may say only that they
are as brilliant now as at any previous time — with this difference,
creative imagination is about better business now than formerly — it no
longer wastes itself in cultivating merely the esthetic side of man, it
works for his uplifting, physically, morally, intellectually.

TEE FORMATION OF CLOUDS. 495

THE FORMATION AND MOTIONS OF CLOUDS.

Bv Pkofessok frank H. BIGELOW,

U. S. WEATHEB BUREAU.

^T^HE most beautiful objects in the sky are clouds, and their daily pro-
-*- cession from west to east in northern latitudes forms a moving
tableau of living pictures for those who have eyes to see. The glories
of the sunrise and sunset, decking the fading stars of the morning
and the waxing lights of the evening with the pure colors of the
spectrum, elevate the heart of man to a loftier adoration for the marvels
of nature, than any works of art prepared by his own hand. The
exquisite tints of the twilight in the northern, and the even richer
tones of the tropic zones, are painted on the memories of those who
have crossed the equator. I have seen on the Island of Ascension a
set of spectrum bows spread over the evening clouds, as if several
rainbows had conspired to illuminate the heavens at the same moment.
There are possibly two or three other objects in the sky that rival
or even excel these cloud pictures in delicacy of light and shading.
They are the aurora with its quivering beams dancing in the cool
atmosphere of the polar night, and the star clusters of the nebulae in
the milky way near the Southern Cross, viewed through the great
refractors of the south.

Such effects are produced by the prismatic action of the small
spheres of condensed aqueous vapor that make up the cloud. The rays
from the sun, when it is near the horizon, pass through these crystal
spherules at such angles that the emergent light is spread out in
numerous spectra. The white light coming from space is singly and
doubly reflected and refracted within the surface of each aqueous
globule, so as to become separated into the bands of color which cor-
respond to the wave-lengths of the solar radiations. The rainbow
is a typical illustration of this process, but an illuminated cloudlet
represents a million minute bows intersecting each other in all possible
directions. The colored clouds of the morning and evening are bright
because the light from the sun passes at proper angles to the cloud,
and from the cloud to the observer, through a given thickness of the
vapor, till the refracted rays are brought down to the earth. The mid-
day clouds are white and glistening, because the sun's rays pass through
them as scattered instead of as refracted light, dancing from drop to
drop in zigzag courses till the last reflection brings it down to the eye
of the observer.

496 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The formation of the vapor drops that make the cloud was long
a puzzle to science, but modern research has at last succeeded in solving
this mystery. It has been found by experiments that if pure dry air,
and pure vapor of water, be mixed in a clean vessel, and then cooled
down below the temperature of saturation, the drops of mist are not
generally able to form. Purity means that all the particles of dust
which float in the air have been perfectly filtered out, and that all
traces of electricity have been removed from the air and the vapor
before mixing them. It was further discovered that if fine dust powder
is injected into the pure mixture, without changing the temperature
or the pressure, the drops of water developed at once; also that if
minute charges of electricity, carried on particles of matter which may
be as small as one-thousandth part of the mass of an atom of hydrogen,
are introduced, the drops are able to condense. It is inferred that
nuclei of some kind, dust particles or electric particles, called ions
or electrons, are required for the formation of water drops suspended
in dry air, one nucleus for each drop. Hence, it is possible by counting
the number of minute drops that form in a cubic inch, to estimate the
number of motes of dust in the air, and even the number of ions
charged with electricity in a given volume. The number of the ions
contained in the air may be enormous, ranging from 20 per cubic
centimeter to many millions. We perceive further that these minute
drops coalesce to form rain, which falls from the clouds to the ground,
and that they carry down the dust previously blown up by the winds
and so purify the atmosphere from all sorts of small floating particles.
They also bring electric charges to the earth, and this has something
to do with producing the atmospheric electrical potential which always
exists. These ions are a natural portion of the atmosphere itself, being
continuously produced in it, even when no special cause seems to be
present, and they have much to do with explaining some of the strange
characteristics of atmospheric electricity which have so long baffled all
efforts to comprehend. Investigators are now paying the closest atten-
tion to these ions from every point of view.

After clouds have been formed by the condensation of the aqueous
vapor, which has been lifted by evaporation from the surface of water
at the earth into the air, they take on very different shapes according
to circumstances. They may be broadly divided into two classes, the
cumulus type and the stratus type. Cumulus clouds are the fleecy, wool-
pack clouds usually seen on a warm summer afternoon ; the stratus are
the horizontal veils or sheets that cover the sky more or less completely
and which may develop into a general rain. The cumulus of the lower
strata, one mile high above the ground, may grow upwards so as to
form large domes, and in hot weather they become cumulo-nimbus
when the heads are very lofty, some having been observed to reach six

TEE FORMATION OF CLOUDS.

497

or eight miles above the ground. See Chart 3. The alto-cumulus
clouds are smaller, more huddled together like the backs of a flock of
sheep, and they are from two to three miles high; the cirro-cumulus,
from four to six miles high, appear to be still smaller, and they often
arrange themselves in ranks or battalions and form the beautiful
mackerel sky. All these clouds are formed by the rising of currents of
air in a vertical direction, the flat bases showing the level where the
temperature begins to be cool enough to cause the vapor to condense,
while the sides and tops outline the relative amounts of pressure, tem-
perature and vapor which are just sufficient for the saturation to begin.
From a study of these elements we may compute the vertical gradients
for each 100 meters, or for each 100 feet, of elevation above the surface
of the ground, and these quantities are of great value to meteorologists.
The stratus or veil clouds are formed in a very different way. Instead
of producing the cooling necessary to condense the moisture by raising
it to higher elevations, it may also
be caused by the flowing of hori-
zontal currents of air in contact
with each other, as when a warm
current passes over a cold one.
When air from the south flows
northward and air from the north
moves southward into the same
region, these currents generally
overflow one another in two strata
instead of mixing, since masses of
air at different temperatures are
quite reluctant to lose their in-
dividuality. This stratification
of the air in horizontal sheets,
flowing from the tropics and from

the polar zones, is always taking chart l. Example of the eastward move-

,.,■,,■■ 1 mentofthe upper air above Washington, D. C,

place m tne atmospnere, and in mlles per hour. The average eastward veloc-

the stratus clouds are generally iiy at thesurlaceisemiles perhour; atSmiles

-, -, 1 1 ±^ high it is 70 miles per hour in clear weather.

produced somewhere along these

surfaces of contact. The cumulus clouds therefore indicate, as shown
in Chart 1, that the air is rising vertically in certain layers, while drift-
ing eastward, and the stratus that it is moving horizontally with a
different velocity in adjacent strata. The lowest stratus clouds are
elevated fog; the strato-cumulus is about two miles high; the alto-
stratus averages four miles and the cirro-stratus six miles above the
earth.

There is furthermore a stratification of the vapor contents of the
atmosphere within every high cumulus cloud, which is interesting.

VOL. LX. — 32.

Ciuud

Jieiyhtjn

YycloctMi -in. Eau- Tieaifi-er

Forms

t-Qtns

O 2Z4 itkl 67J.

CCS

III/

1

—

9000

79577

OOt

SCQO

?6?47

<

1

7000

77SSS

■Its

l»!>J

A. ft

ns

5
S

i:

6

1 —

J II

i 1

1

avoo

I.si7i

SSJJ

ise

?ooa

CS<t2

F ^'

<:■<

/ooo

iiei

,/f

-^

498

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Take a lofty cumulo-nimbus cloud such as rises in the summer after-
noon before a thunderstorm, from whose base rain may perhaps be falling,
while the top is even higher than Mount Blanc piled upon the summit of
the Himalayas. See Chart 2. There are sections which should be passed
through the cloud, so as to divide it into three parts, which in fact
differ from one another physically though they look alike to the
observer. The lowest plane separates the saturated from the un-
saturated vapor and marks the flat base of the cloud; the second is at
the top of the saturated part and at thfe beginning of the freezing
stage; the third is at the top of the freezing and at the bottom of the
frozen stage. The freezing stratum is thin and is the place where the

/^iJAf \ \ \

Jf/Olf Or /ce Crystals & Vry/ftf

.1.) .5.M9 mn J3t ff- i£Z_

Salur^M fapor ;•) VrySr

_Z£4 222-

//nj^ur^led Kipor ^ i?r/ /?/r

763 2G'4 !/f

Chart 2. The distribution of pressure, temperature, and vapor tension in a lofty cumulo-
nimbus cloud, observed by the Weather Bureau, July 29, 1896.

saturated vapor is passing into water at freezing temperature before
it can crystallize into ice. A cloud has, therefore, these three portions,
the lower consisting of vapor, the middle of water and the top of ice
or snow. They appear to be alike because the light from the sun is re-
flected from drop to drop and from flake to flake in its passage through
the cloud. The diagram gives the pressures, temperatures and vapor
tensions at the ground, and at the several stages, while the height is
indicated in miles, meters and feet. This illustration is taken from
one of the loftiest clouds ever observed, and it was computed that the
temperature fell from 26.4° Centigrade at the ground to — 59° Centi-
grade or — 74° Fahrenheit at the height of 8.8 miles. In summer time
at the top of a high cloud the same temperature prevails that may be

THE FORMATION OF CLOUDS.

499

found at the ground in the polar regions during the coldest days of
winter^ The obvious correction for the suffering of humanity due to
the oppressive hot waves of summer is to bring down this upper air, or
else arrange to visit it in floating houses.

The reader may have noticed that hail falls usually in the summer
instead of in the winter, and have wondered what is the reason for it.
The answer is simple. If we arrange a diagram so that freezing tem-
perature is on the left and 100 degrees Fahrenheit on the right, and
plot the limits of the rain, hail and snow regions in altitude, the result
is shown in a set of curves which indicate the height at which it is
possible for them to form respectively. In the summer when the

Chart 3. Distribution of rain, hail and snow in the atmosphere according to the tempera-
ture and height of formation. The curves mark the average boundaries of the several stages of
the moisture in the atmosphere.

weather is warm there is more moisture in the air, it rises higher, till
in extreme cases it may reach about seven or eight miles. The stages
each become wider, though the hail is always confined to a narrow wedge-
shaped region whose highest place is about four miles. Now in thunder-
storms when there is powerful congestion and stratification of air cur-
rents in a vertical direction, the conditions are favorable for the form-
ing of snow balls first by congealing the flakes in the lower parts of the
upper stage; these fall slowly through the freezing stage and are
coated with a layer of ice; they drop through the rain stage and col-
lect a thicker covering of ice till they arrive at the ground as hail-
stones. Such strata may be intermixed and arranged in alternate
layers so that a nucleus of snow may fall through more than one pair
of snow and freezing regions in succession, and thus cover itself with
several layers of snow and ice, like an onion. Such stratified hail-
stones are often found when they are cut open. This theory seems to

500

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

account for all the facts that have been noted in a simple and natural
manner.

The most important use of the cloud observations is not the study
of their constitution, but of their motions relatively to the surface of
the earth. A cloud is a meteorological meteor, and moves in the
stratum of air at approximately the same velocity as the atmosphere
itself, so that a measurement of its direction and velocity gives that of
the air current, just as a chip floating on a stream shows how fast the
water is running. Repeated measures of this kind, when classified,
teach us that the atmosphere flows with certain typical movements, and
that by them the laws controlling its average circulation can be deter-

'")""' jy^^

:^^.

^>-

•^-

i

■\ ■%

_.^ ,.

1 ._.

v-^ ~i£.^~f.,;^

^ r

\

7/ '^^

f-^

s^-.

\T

-^.

^'

^■•*

i/ '^'7^

0
•

-^•

\
<-^..

vi, ]

f/l

"^V"

^^ /

>-.

>^

^V.

\[^

\ti

%>^

W

' ¥ '^^

V •:>^<,

^-.

^

^--.

-^^

^--ik'-

r/~

t

y

s^

-k-

-K

->^.

u

'Y

p^' ^

^

¥

s

-^--.

''"/J^ — "^^^^

-V^c.

t

If

fi, ^

\v^

\

f

G^r of

K

h^

Wi'rtff-

\

• IfonxerOouds

\

'/

, Z^perC/ou^s

/

\

J

Chart 4. Storm in the Lake Region, a winter cyclone or low area.

mined. Now it is a fact that because meteorologists could observe the
motions of the wind readily at the surface of the earth, but not in the
upper strata of the air, they have relied too much upon conjecture in
constructing the theories of the constitution of storms. The mathe-
matical analysis has had therefore only an imperfect basis upon which
to rest, and consequently it has made slow progress towards a complete
solution of the problem. The international observations on clouds,
during the year May, 1896-July, 1897, had for their immediate object
the accurate determination of the motions of the upper air, with a
view of testing the existing theories, and constructing new ones wher-
ever necessary. This period of scientific observation is similar to the
Tycho Brahe and Kepler stage of astronomy, when observations of the
motions of the planets were accumulated for the use of the coming

THE FORMATION OF CLOUDS.

501

HIGH

LOW

Newton. To lay out the paths of motion in the atmosphere is just as
important a work as that of finding the orbits of planets. There is
more difficulty in doing it accurately because the motions of the air
are much less steady and symmetrical than those of single masses
like planets, comets and meteors, but it can be accomplished by
patience and well-directed work. Unfortunately for lack of this sort of
data much of our common meteorology is incorrect, and must be laid
aside as of only an historical value. The subject is itself very complex,
and it is unsuitable for a popular exposition, but an idea can be given
of its scope and tendency by reference to the accompanying charts.

The Chart 4, marked 'Storm in the Lake Region' 'Winter Cyclone
or Low Area,' is a composite map of the motions of the air around a
winter storm central near Lake Superior. The upper or cirrus cloud
movements are shown by the dotted arrows, the lower or cumulus, by
those drawn with a broken line, and
the surface wind by those with one
unbroken line. The region affected
by this storm extends from the
Gulf of Mexico to the Lakes, and
from the Atlantic Ocean to the
Rocky Mountains. It is noted that
the arrows drawn with an unbroken
line and those drawn with a broken
line generally blow nearly side by
side, but that they differ from the
dotted arrows in many cases, espe-
. cially near the center of the storm
and eastward to the ocean. This
shows that the real storm circula-
tion is confined to the lower strata
as if it were quite independent of
them. There is seen to be a slight
deflection of the dotted arrows south-
ward around the low ; a correspond-
ing chart of a high area would show a similar deflection to the north-
ward of the centej. This feature is brought out in Chart 5. Direction
and velocity of the motions of the air in the cirrus, cumulus and on the
surface. The arrows are not very smoothly laid down with reference
to one another, but this is due to the fact that there were not enough
observations taken in order to smooth out the local irregularities. Still,
it is easy to trace a sort of wave motion, a crest over the high and a
hollow under the low. As we come down from the cirrus, six miles
high, towards the ground the sinuous motion becomes more pro-
nounced, till in the strato-cumulus level the rotary component is dis-

ye/aci/y,
■iA/r/es
perhoifr

Chart 5. Direction and velocity of the
motions of the air in the cirrus (6 miles high),
the cumulus (1 mile high) and on the surface
(wind).

502 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tinctly seen, and in the cumulus it predominates. The length of the
arrows shows the relative velocity, which is seventy miles per hour in
the cirrus, on the average, forty-five miles in the alto- and strato-cumu-
lus, fifteen in the cumulus and six on the ground. Compare Chart 1.
The total motion of the upper air is made up of two parts, a
rapid and quite steady eastward drift, and a local or secondary circular
movement; these two combine and make up the observed circulation
that actually exists. They are due to different causes, the first to the
fact that the tropics are warmer than the polar regions, and that the
earth is rotating on its axis; and the second to the fact that these two
different temperatures seek to combine into an equilibrium by means of
an interchange of heat through the air currents, especially in the
strata from one to three miles above the ground. These counter cur-
rents flow against each other, and at or along their junction they pro-
duce rotations and whirl up cyclones or local storms. This is the law
in the temperate latitudes from 30° to 50° ; another law prevails in the
tropics and possibly in the polar zones, though these belts have not yet
been suitably studied. These counter currents can be readily seen on
Chart 4 in the arrows drawn with a broken line, where a great stream
flows from the northwest and recurves along the Mississippi Valley,
while a second stream arising in the Gulf of Mexico flows northward,
and recurves to the westward over the Lake Region. Along the edges
of these currents is the place for rainfall, for the formation of cold
waves, the production of tornadoes and thunderstorms. One can readily
judge from relative lengths of the arrows on Chart 5 to what a dis-
advantage the forecaster is put in attempting to anticipate the prob-
able storm action by using only the small arrows on the surface. He
ought to have access to those of the higher strata as well, and this is
the reason for the special efforts which have been made by the Weather
Bureau through the cloud observations and the kite ascensions to in
some measure overcome this defect. It is hoped that by means of
nephoscopes and the necessary study of the facts already obtained to
be able to make at least three simultaneous daily weather maps, one on
the sea level, one on the 3,500-foot plane, and one on the 10,000-foot
plane. This will give us three sections through each storm instead of
one as at present. The forthcoming report of the Weather Bureau on
the Barometry of the United States and Canada contains a discussion
of these data and the necessary reduction tables for all the stations of
the service. The sea level reduction tables were put in operation on
January 1, 1903, and the tables for the other planes are nearly ready
for use. There is reason for expecting that a good measure of success
will attend these efforts to obtain practical results of considerable
advantage in the art of forecasting.

TEE BREEDING SALMON. 5°3

CONTRIBUTIONS TO BIOLOGY FROM INVESTIGATIONS
ON THE BREEDING SALMON.

By YANDELL HENDERSON, Ph.D.,
YALE UNIVERSITY.

TN science as in history, it often happens that facts bare and dry iu
-*- themselves are infused with a sympathetic human interest, when
viewed as events in the lives of men. Such an interest, focused in
a single devoted investigator, and intensified by the pathos of his death,
attaches to the name of Friedrich Miescher, late professor of physiology
in Basel. In 181)5 by more than twenty years of laborious investigation,
he had brought to a successful conclusion one of the most brilliant and
important researches ever attempted in biological chemistry. Up to
that time few and incomplete reports of these results had appeared in
print, the personal modesty and scientific caution of the investigator
tempting him to delay publication. So it happened that the great mass
of his researches was recorded in notes which only their author could
decipher, when Miescher was seized by a mortal disease, and after a
lingering illness, with the chapters describing his work completed in
his brain, but with no strength to transfer them to paper, he died in
the bitterness of a life work completed, but unpublished.

It may indeed be doubted whether the value of Miescher's work
would have received full recognition twenty years ago, since many of
his investigations then completed bear on problems which had formed
themselves in the minds of few biologists of that time. To-day, how-
ever, these problems are of universal interest. The recent publication
of two volumes* containing the few papers which Miescher had pub-
lished, both on the salmon and on other subjects (which by themselves
would entitle him to a high place among physiologists), together with
extracts from his letters to his colleagues describing his work, and such
of his notes as could be utilized, dates Miescher's work from the present
time rather than the period of its performance.

For a proper understanding of the extraordinary tissue changes
which he discovered in the breeding salmon, Miescher found it neces-
sary to investigate fully the life and habits of these fish during their
sojourn in fresh water. Of this subject little more was known than
such practical knowledge as fishermen had developed. The position of
Basel close to the head waters of the Rhine, the breeding ground of the

* Friedrich Miescher, ' Histochemische und Physiologische Arbeiten'; Leip-
zig, F. C. W. Vogel, 1897.

504 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

salmon, gave Miescher peculiar opportunities for this investigation.
The salmon spawn during the latter half of November and the early
part of December, or just before the shallows of the lakes and streams,
where the eggs are deposited, are frozen over. These eggs are hatched
by the warmth of the next spring. During the following year the
young salmon live in the lakes and streams, and when a year old and
from seven to nine centimeters in length swim down the river and out
to sea. These facts were easily established. To determine the probable
period of the salmons' return to fresh water was more difficult. By
measurements of more than two thousand of the fish caught at Basel,
together with statistics of those taken in the lower reaches of the Ehine
and in other rivers of Germany and Sweden, Miescher found that the
greater number both of males and females could be classed under one or
other of three sizes. Contrary to what might have been expected the
most numerous of these classes is that of the largest and oldest fish,
while the least numerous is that of the small 'St. Jacobs' salmon.
Unless it be supposed that some of the younger fish go to other rivers,
which is unlikely, it is evident that not all the salmon of the proper
age participate in every migration to fresh water. These considerations
and others, based on the probable rate of growth of the fish, led to the
conclusion that from two to three years after entering the ocean, many
of the males and a few of the females make their first journey up the
river to spawn. This accomplished, the fish return to salt water for
another period of about three years. Then occurs a second migration
to fresh water by a large proportion of both sexes. The males of this
migration average seventy centimeters in length, the females seventy-
six centimeters. Probably all of the salmon that have survived the
dangers of marine life unite in the third migration. The average
males of this age have attained a length of eighty-two centimeters, the
females ninety centimeters. These differences in size Miescher re-
garded as the result of another period of life and growth in the ocean,
between the second and third migrations, of at least two years. As
only a few salmon of ninety-eight to a hundred centimeters length are
taken, and these are all males, it is probable that the females as a rule
make only two journeys to the spawning grounds during their lives,
while the males ascend the river three or even four times. Within con-
siderable limits of error the probable age of the largest salmon taken in
the Rhine is therefore fourteen years.

By a careful comparison of the statistics of the number of the
salmon taken in Holland and at Basel, Miescher found that any marked
increase in the catch in the lower reaches of the river was regularly
followed, after an interval of eight or nine weeks, by the appearance
of an unusually large number of the fish in Switzerland. Basel is five
hundred miles from the mouth of the Ehine, and if the average current

THE BREEDING SALMON. 505

were only twenty-five miles a day, the fish must make their way through
two thousand miles of water. In fact, however, the Khine is through-
out much of its course a swift flowing river, leaving Switzerland at a
speed of four or five miles an hour; and the spawning grounds of the
salmon lie above the falls and rapids south of Basel. Indeed even these
considerations can scarcely be taken as a measure of the physical ex-
ertions of the salmon, since the swifter the current the greater becomes
their activity. The heaviest runs of the salmon occur during June and
July, although many fish whose condition shows them fresh from the
sea are taken at Basel even during January. All these fish remain near
the head of the river through the spawning season, and in the follow-
ing December unite in a headlong rush back to salt water. The average
duration of their stay in the Ehine is therefore from six to nine
months, while in some cases as many as fifteen months must elapse
from the day the salmon enter the mouth of the river until their return
to the sea.

In view of these facts it would seem almost beyond belief, had not
Miescher established it by absolutely complete demonstration, that the
salmon never feed in fresh water. From the day they leave salt water
until they return to it they maintain an absolutely unbroken fast.
Careful examination of more than three hundred fish caught at Basel
at all periods of the year, and of many taken in the lower reaches of the
river just after the fish had left the sea, showed that not only was the
alimentary canal empty of all food material, but the digestive apparatus
was in no condition to handle nutriment even if offered it. The gastric
mucosa was in a more or less desquamated condition, and alkaline in
reaction. The gall bladder was empty, and the pancreas shrunken.
Only two exceptions were noted, and these more apparent than real.
In the stomach of one fish was found a large winged insect — quite un-
digested; in another a minnow — only partially digested. Of the
latter case, however, Miescher records that the fish was caught near
Basel in January, long after the spa\vning season, and was so extremely
emaciated as to suggest that it must have been prevented in some way
from escaping back to the sea.

The development of the genitalia (or sexual glands), occurring
almost wholly after the salmon have entered fresh water, becomes of
the greatest interest in the light of these observations ; for the material
built up in these organs must be drawn from the other tissues of the
animal itself. To the problems involved in these tissue changes, as
well as to those resulting from the expenditure of energy by the fish
in their long journey up stream, Miescher devoted himself especially.
His examinations and analyses of the salmon caught in the lower
reaches of the Ehine at all periods of the year, and of those taken at
Basel from January to I^Iay, show that the fish on their way up stream

5o6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

are always in a well nourished condition. The intestines are surrounded
by masses of fat; the muscles in all parts of the body are full and
firm, and exhibit innumerable globules of oil within and between the
fibers. The sexes are practically indistinguishable. The genitalia
amount to only three-tenths of one per cent, of the weight of the
animals. During the months from May to December a gradual but
steady change takes place. The jaws of the males develop a beak
three to five centimeters in length. The skin of both sexes changes
color, losing much of its lustar, and becomes loose. The fat about the
intestines disappears first; then that contained in the muscles. Certain
muscles of the back, which are less important in swimming, diminish
to nearly half their original size; and their content of solids to an
even greater extent. The muscles most important in swimming, how-
ever, are maintained in full vigor; and even in those drawn upon, it
is significant that no loss of structure occurs; for on the salmon's
return to the sea, this material can be replaced without a recon-
struction of the tissue. Just before spawning, the average weight of
both sexes is ten per cent, less than that of fish of equal length
(eliminating the difference due to the growth of the jaws of the male)
caught in May. In contrast with these changes is the growth of the
genitalia. The testes or spermaries of the 'ripe' males amount to as
much as six per cent, of their body weight, and the ovaries or roe of
the females to twenty or even twenty-five per cent., and contain thirty
per cent, or more of the total solids of the fish.

While the available information on the subject is as yet by no
means so complete as is desirable, on the whole it indicates that the
habits of the salmon in other parts of the world, and of other species,
are at least similar to those of the Rhine. It is the belief of many of
the guides in Maine and New Brunswick that the salmon in their
streams do not feed after leaving salt water, and that the *fly'
used to catch them must appeal to their curiosity rather than to their
appetite.* The salmon in the rivers of Scotland certainly resemble

* During the past summer Dr. C. W. Green, of the University of Missouri,
has been carrying out investigations in conjunction with the U. S. Fish Com-
mission on the salmon of the rivers of the Pacific coast. As these researches
have not yet been publislied the writer is personally indebted to Dr. Green for
this statement : " Concerning the question whether or not the ' King ' salmon
takes food in its run up the Sacramento, I have reached the tentative conclusion
that it does not, in fact can not. Every salmon examined by me at the U. S.
Fish Hatchery at Baird, Cal., and I examined many, not only had no food in
the stomach and intestine bvit these organs were so much atrophied that only the
smallest object could have been swallowed. Salmon a meter in length have an
intestine not larger than a small lead pencil, and the stomach is reduced to less
than seven centimeters in length. On the other hand in the stomach of one
salmon taken direct from salt water at Monterey I counted eighteen squid and
several small fish."

THE BREEDING SALMON. 5° 7

closely those of the Ehinc according to a recent and very thorough
investigation* by the Fishery Board of that country. The salmon in
the rivers of Alaska, however, acccording to the report upon the subject
by the United States Fish Commission,! exhibit certain differences
which are significant of the physiological purpose of the habits and
tissue changes in the breeding salmon. The principal runs of these
salmon from the sea to their spawning grounds occur after the ice
has broken up, and through a great part of the brief Alaskan summer.
The number of fish swimming up stream at such times is so enormous
that at places the current is almost choked by the struggling mass. A
man wading through the shallows can kick the salmon out upon the
shore by scores. The distances which these salmon must ascend is
much less than in the Ehine — often only a few miles. Yet the diffi-
culties overcome in struggling over shoals, leaping up waterfalls, and
in attempting to pass the barriers of heavy timber recently erected
by the canneries, are enormous. During this journey the males develop
formidable looking beaks, and the genitalia grow to a size even greater
perhaps than do those of the Ehine salmon — although exact figures
are not available. At the same time both sexes become emaciated to
an extreme degree, all the muscles and organs of the body being drawn
upon apparently to supply material to the genitalia. It is certain that
the fish do not feed after leaving salt water; indeed it is doubtful
whether the beaks of the males would allow it even if they wished.
But all the Alaska salmon — of which there are several species — differ
from those of the Ehine in one respect. Xo adult salmon has ever
been seen swimming down stream, and those which are washed down
by the current die after reaching salt water. The greater number
after spawning remain, near the spot where the eggs are deposited,
driving off intruding salmon that would disturb their nests, and maraud-
ing trout that would devour their eggs, until overcome by starvation
and the exhaustion entailed by their journey and tissue changes, they
die. They afford a striking example certainly of the sacrifice of the
individual to the good — or the only 'good' that Nature seems to
recognize — the perpetuation of the species; and this example is none
the less striking because it can scarcely be supposed that these fish
have any consciousness of the object for which they thus struggle
and die.

The reason for these habits and tissue changes is probably to be
found in. the advantages which they confer upon the salmon in the

* Report of the Scottish Fishery Board on the Investigations on the Life
History of the Salmon in Fresh Water, from the Research Laboratory of the
Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh; Edited by D. Noel Paton, M.D.,
1898.

t Bulletin of the V. 8. Fish Commission, Volume XVIIL, 1898.

5o8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

struggle for existence. The risks to which the eggs are exposed are
indeed enormous. Many fail of fertilization; many are devoured or
otherwise destroyed. Nor do the dangers to which the salmon are
subject end with their hatching. Even if the growing fish escape the
voracity of the trout in their natal streams, a host of enemies await
them in the ocean. If the number of salmon from year to year remains
fairly constant, it is evident that the chances for any one egg surviving
to become a mature fish, to replace one of its parents and in turn have
offspring, would be represented by two, while the chances of destruction
would equal nearly the total number of eggs produced by the female,
which amount to many thousand. Yet compared to the dangers which
a deep-sea fish like the cod must escape, the hatching and early life
of the salmon in the lakes and streams probably offer great advantages.
Were the salmon to remain in fresh water, however, where the food
supply is limited, their numbers would be at least as limited as are
the trout. The same explanation probably holds good for their fasting
in fresh water. Were they to feed during the spawning season they
would leave nothing for the newly hatched fish, — and indeed the spawn
of the preceding year and their own eggs would form, as in the case
of other fish, a large part of their diet.

In the salmon nature offers to science, on a scale far exceeding the
resources of any laboratory, an experiment in the metabolism of hunger
— a demonstration that the energy liberated within the animal body
comes not directly from the combustion of the carbonaceous substances
of the food, as the energy of a steam engine from its fuel, but from
the breaking down of the tissues themselves. Furthermore the condi-
tions are reduced to their simplest terms. In the warm-blooded animals
the maintenance of a temperature many degrees above their surround-
ings, necessitates a continual drain on the potential energy stored in
their tissues. In the cold-blooded salmon, on the other hand, lying
quietly, for weeks or months together, between the stones on the bottom
of the Rhine, the processes of oxidation sink to a minimum, involving
little else than the movements of the gills and the beating of the heart.
Thus the energy latent in the fats, carbohydrates and albuminous
substances, which the fish brings from the sea, is utilized almost
wholly in the contractions of the muscles ; and within the limits of the
dynamic efficiency of these tissues this force is expended in the
mechanical work of swimming. For physiologists the especial impor-
tance of this experiment lies in its bearing on the recent revival, in
modified form, of the theory of Liebig, that the heat of the body is
maintained by a combustion of the fats, but that the albuminous sub-
stances or proteids are the source of muscular work. Unfortunately
the data upon this subject collected by Miescher are only partially
available. The conclusions, however, at which he arrived, are sup-

TEE BREEDING SALMON. 509

ported by the thorough investigation of Dr. Noel Paton and his co-
workers of the Scottish Fishery Board on the salmon of their rivers.
They have determined the amount of the various fuel materials which
disappear from the bodies of the salmon during their journey up
stream. For this purpose they have analyzed all the tissues and organs
of numerous salmon taken from the estuaries in the spring and early
simimer, just as the fish were starting up the rivers. They also found
the amount of fat and albuminous material remaining in the tissues
of the fish taken from the head waters of the rivers, a month or so
later. By calculating from the numerical results of these analyses
the equivalent figures for a fish of 'standard length' — arbitrarily taken
at one meter — a fairly accurate basis of comparison was obtained. On
this basis the difference in the composition of the tissues of the fish
of the estuaries, and those of the head waters, reveals the number of
grams of fat and albuminous material which the journey up stream
costs the fish. The results show that, varying with the length of their
journey — which in no case approaches the distance up the Rhine —
the swiftness of the current overcome, and the other exertions necessary,
the salmon in passing from the estuaries to the head waters, expend
three hundred to six hundred grams of fat, and only sixty to a hundred
and twenty grams of albuminous material. In the animal body the
combustion of the fats and sugars is complete. They leave the system
in the form of carbonic acid and water, after liberating within the
tissues precisely that amount of energy which they would yield as heat,
if burned in a perfect lamp or the most accurately constructed calorim-
eter. For the albuminous substances the combustion is less complete;
but the amount of energy which comes from each gram decomposed
within the body is determinable with no less accuracy than for the
fats. To find the energy which the salmon expend in the ascent of the
Scottish rivers, it is only necessary, therefore, to multiply the amount
of fuel material expended by the number of calories which one gram
of fat or albuminous material yields in a calorimeter. Thus it is
found that the same six hundred grams of fat and one hundred and
twenty grams of proteid, which the journey up the longer rivers costs
the salmon, would heat sixty-five liters of water from the freezing
point to boiling, or, to express the same amount in terms of mechanical
^ork — would, if theoretical conditions in this regard were attainable,
lift fourteen kilos (the weight of the 'standard fish' of the Scottish
investigations) to the height of a hundred and eighty kilometers. But
it must be borne in mind that the dynamic efficiency of few engines
devised by man exceeds fifteen per cent.; and the investigations of
physiologists have shown that the contracting muscles develop an
efficiency only five to ten per cent, greater. From such data as these,
together with the rate of flow of rivers, their length, and the time

5IO POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

consumed by tlie salmon in accomplishing the distance, it would be
easy to reach fairly exact conclusions in terms of distance traveled,
weights transported and fuel expended by the salmon, and to
compare these results with those accomplished by a steamship; or to
calculate the resistance of the water overcome by the salmon, and
from this compare the relative advantages of the 'lines' of a salmon
and those of a racing yacht. There can be little doubt that in the first
case the advantages would be heavily on the side of the salmon, and
that the yacht would show little if any superiority. But leaving aside
such theoretical considerations — for which, it is only just to say. Dr. Noel
Paton and his coworkers are in no way responsible — the investigations
on the Scottish salmon show that eighty to ninety per cent, of the
energy liberated by them in the muscular work of swimming is derived
from the fats. The hungering salmon, like a hungering man or dog,
reduces to a minimum the waste of protoplasm — that peculiar jelly
of albuminous substances which constitutes the chemical framework
and essential mechanism of the living cells of the body. In the salmon
ascending a river, as in a man ascending a mountain, the energy
liberated in the work done is supplied by a vigorous oxidation, and
this is evidenced by an increased absorption of oxygen and excretion
of carbonic acid. The elimination of nitrogenous substances from
the waste of the tissue proteids is, however, only slightly increased.

No less interesting are the processes by which the genitalia develop,
since they afford an example of constructive activity almost without
parallel among animals; processes so characteristic of plants, on the
contrary, that they were long supposed to exhibit the generic differences
in the vital mechanism in the plant and animal kingdoms. Modern
research has, indeed, shown that these great apparent differences are mat-
ters of degree, not kind. Plants can not now be considered as devoted
solely to absorbing carbonic acid, and by means of the heat and light of
the sun synthesizing carbonaceous material. They can, and when need
arises, they do draw on their store of fuel, exhale carbonic acid, and
even liberate measurable quantities of heat. On the other hand,
physiologists have come to admit that the cells of the animal body,
although wholly dependent on the vegetable kingdom for their ma-
terials and energy, yet possess wide powers of transforming the food
substances to their needs. Uncertainty has, however, attended the
efforts of the investigator of metabolism in man and the higher animals.
Generally when the subject of the experiment fasts, growth stops. If
on the other hand the subject is fed, the origin of the substances shown
to appear or increase in any tissue — for instance the fats — may be
assigned with almost equal chances to any one of the constituents of
the food, or to a transportation from other tissues of the body itself.
In the salmon, on the contrary, the conditions are of extreme simplicity

TEE BREEDING SALMON. 51 1

and clearness. The constituents of the genitalia are essentially different
chemical compounds from the suhstances of the muscles out of which
they are manufactured; yet the fact that their formation takes place
wholly during the period of the animals' fast, leaves no other source
for them. In the synthesis of these complex organic substances, the
j.ihosphorus — to mention only one element — can be traced with cer-
tainty back to the simple phosphates stored in the muscles of the
salmon of the estuaries.

The mechanism by which this material is transported and trans-
formed was the subject of much careful investigation by Miescher.
lie noted a marked increase in the functional activity of the spleen —
an organ as enigmatic in the salmon as in man. He observed also a
decrease in the blood supply to those muscles at the expense of which
the genitalia grow, and an equal increase to the genitalia themselves.
The special significance of these conditions lies in the fact that a very
small blood supply, continued through the summer and autumn, would
transport many times the amount of material which actually becomes
a part of the genitalia. As these organs are not motile, and are appar-
ently the seat of no marked oxidation, their respiratory needs would
appear small. Nature, however, follows closely the principle of 'least
action'; and Miescher advanced the theory that, aside from its part
in respiration, the oxygen brought to the tissues by the blood exercises
a tonic influence upon their constructive processes. Thus in the liquefy-
ing muscle the lack of oxygen causes a stoppage and reversal of nutri-
tion. The cell contents are absorbed into the blood. In the genitalia
on the other hand the excess of oxygen in which the cells are bathed
stimulates their nutritional processes, and results in vigorous growth.
This view is, of course, a pure hypothesis. Yet it is interesting on
account of its close similarity to theories advanced now, a generation
later, by pathologists to explain the causes of abnormal growths in
the tissues of man.

Important as are the results of the study of the salmon thus far
mentioned, none rank in value with Miescher's investigations on the
chemical nature of the sperm and ova. These researches were prac-
tically the first in which there was an attempt to lay bare the chemical
processes involved in fertilization and the formation of the embryo.
The clue which Miescher furnished has been followed by others, until
to-day we seem to be approaching a determination of the structure of
the proteid molecule — the first step necessary to solving the problem
of the chemistry of living matter. Modern histology has shown that
the fertilization of the ovum, from which the animal body develops,
consists essentially in the entrance of the nucleus of the spermatozoon
or male cell, and its fusion with the nucleus of the ovum. The nucleus
of the spermatozoon must therefore be regarded as the carrier poten-

512 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tially of those characters physical and mental which the individual in-
herits from its male parent; as the nucleus of the ovum must be for
the female parent. In the series of divisions by which the fertilized
ovum separates into the cells which form the tissues of the body, the
material or chromatin of the fused nuclei is with the utmost exact-
ness divided equally to each, so that every unit of the system receives
its share of this chemical endowment. This much the study of struc-
ture has taught us. But to the chemist the ultimate explanation of
these processes seems to lie in the nature of the chemical substances
composing the chromatin. In the salmon the ova and sperm are easily
obtainable, and afford the unfertilized eggs and spermatozoa almost
free from admixture with other matter. Accordingly the methods
which Miescher employed for the separation of the constituents of these
cells were simple, yet yielded the material sought in quantity and
purity. The nuclei from the sperm proved to be composed mainly of
a peculiar compound or series of compounds of the nature of ethereal
salts. The acid radical was nucleic acid — a substance previously dis-
covered by Miescher in the white corpuscles of the blood of mammals;
the other component was an organic base which he called protamin.
To the question as it presented itself to Miescher's mind, whether
protamin may be regarded as the essential element in fertilization, the
answer must be in the negative. Miescher found that protamin is not
present in the sperm of the frog or the testes of a bull ; and subsequent
investigators have shown that it is absent even in some fishes. Yet in
these cases it is apparently replaced, and the same functions performed
by another substance of basic character known as histon. Miescher
was led by these facts to the view that there is no one substance which
can be regarded as the essential element in fertilization; but that
the chemical processes involved are probably a series of reactions.

To attempt even an outline of the investigations and discoveries
to which Miescher's study of the chemistry of the cell has led, would
necessitate reviewing one of the most fertile fields of biological chem-
istry, and would involve much that is important in pathology as well.
rt is sufficient here to point out that what has been accomplished is
in great measure the ripening fruit of the seed planted by Miescher
in the quiet of his laboratory a generation past. In the final solution
of the profounder biological problems, these investigations on the
salmon and the researches to which they have led will probably be
found to have contributed in large measure toward that object, which
Miescher in one of his letters — almost the last before his death — ex-
pressed in the words — "There remains then this great question to be
fought out by the biologists of the future — Is it chemical composition
or cell structure to which we must look as the ultimate basis of vital
phenomena ?"

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY? 513

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY?

By Professor FRANK THILLY,

UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI.

"r^UEING the first third of the past century the intelligence of
-*-^ the world honored philosophy as the Queen of Science. In
Germany, the capital of higher learning, students crowded into the
lecture-rooms of the philosophers and accepted their teachings as gospel
truths. Everywhere the deepest interest was manifested in the solution
of the great problems of life. A powerful longing seized mankind
to unravel the world's profoundest mysteries, and this longing, too
impetuous to linger over an examination of the facts, satisfied itself
in the study and production of metaphysical systems. A suggestive
example of the immense influence wielded by the royal science during
this epoch is furnished by the experience of Friederich Vischer, who
declares that the entire time and energy of his youth were devoted to
the interpretation of the world-riddle. " Indeed, it seemed to me in
those days," he adds, " that a man had not attained his majority, and
ought not, therefore, to be allowed to. marry until he had at least dis-
persed the darkness surrounding the problem of free will and deter-
minism."*

It was the golden age of philosophy, an age, however, which bore
within itself the seeds of its own decay. Fichte, Schelling and Hegel,
the members of the learned dynasty, defined metaphysics or philosophy
as the ideal reconstruction of the universe from certain indisputable
principles, the discovery of these principles being, for the most part,
dependent on the possession of a special mental genius. Like Spinoza
before them, they deduced from premises which they regarded as ab-
solute, conclusions which seemed to them to be necessary. Closing their
eyes to the facts, these thinkers trusted in their ability to account for
those facts, by showing what would be the unavoidable logical conse-
quences of certain axiomatic first principles. Experience they consid-
ered as valueless in this connection; the most that it could do was to
verify the deductions of philosophy, f Schelling denies to it even this
worth; the ideal construction or hypothesis of the thinker needs no
such verification; it is self-sufficient, a law unto itself. J If the facts do

* Quoted by Volkelt in Yorirdge zur Einfuhrung in die Philosophie der
Oegenwart.

t See Fichte's Works, Vol. I., p. 446; Vol. II., p. 359.
t Schelling, Vol. V., p. 325.

VOL. LX. — 33.

514 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

not square with the results of speculation, so much the worse for the
facts. Although Hegel does not wholly depreciate experimental knowl-
edge, he too lays chief stress on the d priori method.* Knowledge is
boundless in its possibilities; no limit can be set to man's faculty of
truth. Basing themselves upon such conceptions as these, Fichte,
Schelling and Hegel undertook the construction of an edifice, which
though grand and daring in plan and execution, had no foundation on
the earth. And when philosophy loses its footing on the ground, it
must Antaeus-like perish in mid-air.

While the German metaphysicians and their following were prov-
ing by all the rules of logic what the world really ought to be, the exact
sciences were modestly finding out what it actually was. The whistle
of the locomotive suddenly awakened the speculator from his dreams,
and called his attention to the wonderful progress of natural science
with its fruitful methods and useful results. A reaction soon set in
against Hegelianism, and its star sank. Men grew aweary of fanciful
speculations and longed to return from the clouds to the realities of
the material world. Eailroads were built. Trade and commerce took
enormous strides forward, commercial and polytechnical schools were
founded. All energies were directed toward the discovery, explanation
and application of material laws, and the exact sciences took the place
in the public confidence once held by philosophy. Liebig, the great
chemist, introduced the laboratory into German universities. Alex-
ander von Humboldt made a reputation for himself as a scientist. Im-
portant discoveries were made in France and Germany by physiologists
like Miiller, Weber, Flourens, Magendie, Leurct, Longet.f Philosophy
lost her crown ; despised and forsaken by a world that was now as ex-
treme in its contempt as it had formerly been extravagant in its praise,
there was none so poor to do her reverence. The philosopher was de-
scribed as one speaking of things of which he knew nothing, in words
which no one could understand. The mistake lay in identifying all
philosophy with a temporary one-sided phase of it. The hue and cry
was raised against the persecuted queen. The natural sciences, of
course, renounced their allegiance and established an antiphilosophical
republic of their own. They deluded themselves into believing in the
possibility of excluding philosophical conceptions from their realm;
they simply succeeded in introducing loose, illogical notions into their
explanations, notions that careful thinkers had long ago rejected as un-
satisfactory. Materialism, the simplest and most insufficient solution
of the world-problem, became the order of the day.

Conditions like these could not fail to intimidate philosophy. Mis-

• Hegel, Vol. VI., pp. 53 and 78.

t See Lange, History of Materialism.

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY? 515

fortime is apt to humble us. It is not strange then that the succeeding
generation of philosophers should have been meek, and that even so
late as 1874, Wundt should have felt the need of proving that phi-
losophy had a right to exist, and might justly claini a place among the
sciences.*

This period of reaction, however, was as transitory as its cause had
been. The disturbed pendulum was simply swinging to the other side
before resuming its regular movements. The metaphysical need or
impulse, as Schopenhauer terms it, is too powerful in man to be per-
manently suppressed. To ask why is one of the noblest functions of
the human being ; to stifle such inquiry would be equivalent to destroy-
ing all intellectual activity. It cannot be stifled. Philosophy is not
of an age, but for all time. The last philosopher will die when the last
man dies, unless, indeed, that individual happen to be a hopeless idiot.
Whoever is capable of thought at all will attempt in some way, be it
ever so crude, to explain to himself the world and his place in the world.
'What does it all mean ?'f 'What is it all for ?' are questions which force
themselves upon every intelligent being, and are answered by him ac-
cording to the light that is in him. (Indeed, his queries themselves
are pregnant with entire metaphysical systems.) Nor can the exact
sciences themselves operate without metaphysical conceptions. How-
ever violently they may protest against metaphysics as though it were
the plague itself, they inevitably succumb to the disease, if disease it
be. Is the theory of descent utterly free from the taint ? Is the atomic
theory which Greek philosophy originated in the fourth century B. C.
any the less metaphysical because it is promulgated by modern sci-
entists? Is not the attempt to reduce all material facts to their ulti-
mates, matter and force or energy, metaphysical ? Is not the theory of
the indestructibility of matter and the conservation of energy, as con-
ceived by many, metaphysical ? Is not the attempt to refer all energies
to one ultimate energy a bold and grand attempt to reach a unity, a first
principle, on which all else depends ? And what can be more metaphys-
ical than that ? In truth, the philosophical tendency to reduce plurality
and diversity to unity, to find one common principle that may be able to
explain all phenomena, prevails in every scientific procedure, because
it constitutes the very essence of mental activity. We can not resist the
impulse to unify our experiences, we would reach a comprehensive sur-
vey of all existence, discover the principle or principles which will ex-
plain all facts. The different sciences dealing with different sets of
facts may find ultimates capable of accounting for their facts respect-
ively, but only by ignoring other facts. They give us, as it were,

• Wundt, Aufgabe der Philosophie.

t ' Was ist der Sinn der Welt? '— Lotze.

51 6 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

cross-sections of reality while we wish to get a comprehensive view of
the whole. Physics may be able to explain its facts by assuming the
existence of homogeneous atoms and force, but can the chemist under-
stand his phenomena without presupposing the qualitative difference
of such atoms? Can the biologist undertake to interpret life with
purely mechanical principles; can he reconcile the purposiveness of
organisms with the mechanical theory of causation? Will the psy-
chologist, who deals with states of mind or consciousness, be able to
account for the existence of these from the physicist's principles, atoms
and motion? A science is needed that will consciously and method-
ically aim to bring order into this chaos, that will consider all the facts,
and, if possible, unify these facts. It will subject the principles offered
by the various sciences to the most critical examination, compare them
with one another, point out their inconsistencies where such exist, it will
in short, rectify, harmonize and if possible unify results. Such a sci-
ence is philosophy. Its need is apparent. If men are bound to
philosophize at all, it is a reasonable demand that they should do the
work well. We cannot leave the solution of the greatest problems to
chance, to the haphazard methods of persons unskilled in such work,
and prejudiced enough to adjust the facts to their theories. Here aa
everywhere else, he will do the best work who has the best training, and
concentrates his entire time and energy upon the field of his choice.

Such reflections as these have brought the modem world back again
to philosophy. The philistine is defined as the man without intellec-
tual needs, and the philistine alone sees no need of philosophy. The
great scientists do not allow their occupation with the details of reality
tc' blunt their vision of the whole. They look up from their microscopes
occasionally; they can not rest satisfied with blindly staring at the
minutiae; they aim to understand things by seeing them in their rela-
tions to the whole.

The measurement of the time required for a current to pass through
the sciatic nerve of a frog will not, taken by itself, make us any the wiser.
Mere facts must be made the stepping-stones to something higher.
Our age is becoming more fully aware of the need of philosophical study.
This is evident from the renewal of the philosophical activity in all
departments of knowledge. Protestant theology is striving after a
rational explanation of dogmas — heresy trials show that ! Catholicism
has its philosophy; it accepts the conceptions of Thomas Aquinas,
whose source is Aristotle. In jurisprudence, economics, politics, so-
ciology and history the philosophical tendency is manifesting itself.
Mathematicians, too, are speculating concerning the nature of number,
space and related notions. In the words of Wundt the view is spread-
ing among natural scientists ' that the mere description and combina-
tion of the facts of a limited field will no longer suffice, but that it is

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY? 517

the highest aim of the particiilar branches of natural science to co-
operate in obtaining a comprehetisive conception of nature.'*

A further evidence of the intensification of philosophical activity
is offered by the increased sale of philosophical books, the publication
of philosophical journals, and the strengthening and establishment of
departments of philosophy in our universities. Our own country,
though frequently accused of being the most materialistic nation on the
globe, is becoming a zealous admirer of philosophy. Our philosophical
journals are increasing in number and in circulation, and improving
in scientific merit, while our great publishing houses are issuing the
works of noted authors of all countries, and rendering them accessible
to a wider sphere of students.

We have been discussing in the foregoing the fortunes and nature
of philosophy proper, during the immediate past. We identified the
term philosophy with metaphysics, or the science of first principles.
But philosophical study does not occupy itself wholly with metaphysics.
That in truth is its very highest and hence latest function. It cannot
attempt to offer an explanation of the facts of the world, until it has
become acquainted with a large body of these facts. Now the world
as a whole presents us with two sets of phenomena, physical and mental,
and corresponding to this division we have two classes of sciences, phys-
ical or natural science and mental science. The former deal with the
manifestations of the external or physical universe, with lifeless and
living matter; the latter, with the manifestations of the inner world,
with consciousness or mind. The fundamental mental science is called
psychology, which analyzes, classifies and explains states of conscious-
ness. On it are based such studies as logic, esthetics, ethics and the
philosophy of religion. Psychology asks such questions as these:
What are the nature and conditions of sensation, perception, imagina-
tion, memory, conception, emotion, instinct, impulse, attention,
volition; all of these states being facts of mind or consciousness.
Logic asks: How does the mind act when it reasons, when it reaches
sentences that we regard as true ? What are the forms or laws or prin-
ciples of reasoning? What are the methods employed by the scientist
in his investigations? What, in short, are the rules of deduction and
induction? ^Esthetics asks: What in the soul and in objects is it that
makes us call things beautiful or ugly, sublime or ridiculous? What
makes a production a work of art ; what are the laws or principles gov-
erning the artistic? Ethics asks: What are the characteristics of
morality? Why do we designate one act as right, another as wrong?
What forms the criterion or standard with which moral facts are meas-
ured? We feel that certain courses of conduct are wrong. What is
the nature and origin of this feeling? How is it developed? What,

* Wundt, Essays, p. 4.

5i8 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in short, are the laws or principles governing the moral world, and how
do these principles find expression in the life of man ? Closely related
to psychology and ethics, and furnishing them with a large body of
facts, are the social sciences, which consider the thoughts, feelings and
volitions of social organisms, or man in society; the ends which such
organisms serve, and the means with which such ends are reached. So-
ciety, unconsciously or consciously, aims to realize certain ends. What
are these ends? How are they realized? We must study the forms
which realize them, we must study human customs and institutions,
and trace their development. Sociology is the name given to the science
which performs this task. These ends cannot be realized without or-
ganization, or the state. What are the forms of government, and how
do governments realize their ends? The theory of the state, or the
science of politics, discusses these questions; it bears the same relation
to sociology that ethics bears to psychology. The philosophy of religion
investigates those inner facts of human experience which we call re-
ligious facts, and is, in so far as it does this, a branch of psychology.
But it also studies their external expression, the different forms, and
traces the development of positive religions in order to discover from
the material thus presented the principles common to all religions.
What is the idea which seems to be realizing itself in the history of
religion ?

The philosopher must pay attention to the fundamental mental sci-
ences, psychology, logic, ethics, sesthetics and the philosophy of re-
ligion. These sciences differ from the so-called natural sciences only
in their content or subject-matter, not in their general form or methods.
All sciences, both physical and mental, occupy themselves with observ-
ing phenomena and reducing them to laws, employing all available
means of accomplishing this task. But no science restricts itself to
a mere registration of laws; it seeks to discover the relations between
these laws, to connect them, and to reduce them to their simplest forms.
The physicist refers all material manifestations to one underlying
principle or force. The biologist finds it impossible to explain his
facts by means of purely mechanical principles. " How can we recon-
cile the purposiveness of organisms with the principle of causation?"*
The psychologist, again, is brought into contact with another group of
facts which the atomic theory cannot account for ; mind cannot be ex-
plained on a purely materialistic basis. The scientist may be able, by
means of mechanical laws, to show how a planetary system was evolved
from chaos, but can he account for the existence of the amoeba ? Can
his principles account for the simplest fact of consciousness ? To quote
Kant's celebrated words : " It seems to me," he declares in his Theory
of the Heavens, "that, in a certain sense, a man may say without pre-

* Wundt, Essays, p. 5.

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY? 519

sumption: Give me matter and I will huild you a world. . . . But
can he make the same boast with reference to the simplest plant or
insect? Can he say: Give me matter and I will explain to you the
evolution of a caterpillar?"

Each science endeavors to reduce the most diverse facts with which
it deals to identity, to one underlying principle. Heat, light, sound,
electricity are different forms of some underlying force or energy.
Are states of consciousness referable to the same force, or must we
assume another ultimate, of which both physical and mental facts are
the expression, as the monists hold?

All these are problems that are worth considering. The difficulty
of solving them and the disagreement existing between the attempts
to solve them suggest another problem. The human mind has a tend-
ency to unify, to reduce facts to ultimates, to first principles. What
Ib the value of this tendency as a means of reaching truth? Can we
know anything about these tilings? The instrument of knowledge,
the human mind, without which there could be no science at all, is
itself a fact which needs to be explained. We evidently employ the
same methods in the different branches of knowledge, we explain facts
by referring them to their antecedents, simply because this is the func-
tion of the mind. But is there no limit to this search for antecedents
or causes? What epistemological value has the causal instinct? In
fact, what does human knowledge consist in, and how is it possible, as
Kant asks? Define its limits, before you set out on the vast sea of
speculation. We need a science which will examine the nature and
validity of knowledge, a theory of Jcnowledge. As Helmholtz declares,
no age can with impunity refuse the task of examining the sources of
our knowledge and the ground of its validity. The different sciences
employ the categories of thinking without investigating their validity.
Philosophy must regard with suspicion everything that is not clear as
day ; it is * nothing, if not critical.' In his attempt to explain the
sensible world, the scientist often has recourse to the suprasensuous.
Can we know anything of the suprasensuous or must we confine our
efforts to the study of what our senses present to us ? Must we accept
DuBois-Reymond's verdict ? " Concerning the riddles as to what
matter and force are, and whether they can think, the natural scienHst
must once for all decide upon the verdict: Ignorahimus."* Or shall
we protest with Haeckel against the position that there can be invinci-
ble barriers to Naturei'Jcennen. There are many other problems which
suggest themselves to an epistemology, or theory of knowledge.

Such a science not only forms the prelude to the most important part
of philosophy, to metaphysics, but also assists the thinker in discover-

* DuBois-Reymond, Orenzen des Naturerkennens. Galileo made a similar
statement.

520 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing the inconsistent and premature metaphysical conceptions which
stealthily creep into all branches of knowledge. The natural scientist
frequently rails against metaphysics in the very words of metaphysics,
without knowing that his entire mental activity is based on metaphys-
ical preconditions. Metaphysics is the old man of the sea whom the
scientific Sindbad carries on his own shoulders, without, however, feel-
ing the load.

After having studied the limits and validity of human knowledge,
the philosopher is ready for the construction of his metaphysical sys-
tem. He calls to his aid the history of philosophy, which unrolls before
him the thoughts of past ages and bids him profit by their experience.
The history of philosophy must not be regarded as ' a disconnected
succession of arbitrary individual opinions and clever guesses,' it is
not a formless aggregate of errors, not a series of unsuccessful at-
tempts to reach truth. It is not a Sisyphean labor, a Penelopean woof.
The history of philosophy is a development, an evolution, in which the
forms which follow generally show an advance over what precedes.
And even if it were a mere catalogue of errors, it would be of service
to the metaphysician by pointing out to him the lines of thought that
have ended in blind alleys; it would warn him against wasting his
energies in fields that have been worked over. The man who knows
how a solution can not be effected is on the road to knowledge.

A STUDY OF CALMS. 521

A

A STUDY OF CALMS.

By Professor EDWIN GRANT DEXTER,

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS.

MONG the suggestive things which have been noted in the course
of a series of studies which I have made in an attempt to dis-
cover the influence of the weather upon human conduct, no one has
been more interesting or unexpected than the seeming effects of calms.
Few people are immune to weather influences, and most of us are in a
more or less apologetic mood for our behavior during some meteoro-
logical condition. East winds and leaden skies are made scape-goats for
many a sin of omission or of commission, but it has not been my
observation that conditions of calms were often used in that way.

That they do exert a marked influence upon human activities I hope
to demonstrate in this paper. The method is wholly an empirical one.
Various records of the occurrence of different abnormalities of human
conduct were made use of, and the average daily occurrence of these
phenomena for a number of years, compared with their average daily
occurrence under definite meteorological conditions. The study was for
the city of New York — a fact that must be borne in mind since it has
an important bearing on the present problem — and covered a period of
twelve years, for every day of which the mean temperature, barometric
pressure and humidity, the wind movement, the precipitation and the
character of the day were determined and used in the tabulation.

The conditions covered by this problem, the number of data, and

their sources are as follows:*

Registration in Public Schools 118,020 School records.

Deportment in Public Schools 14,020 School records.

Deportment in Penitentiary 3,981 Penitentiary records.

Arrests for assaults and battery (males) 36,627 Police records.
Arrests for assaults and battery

(females) 3,981 Police records.

Arrests for drunkenness (males) 44,495 Police records.

Arrests for insanity (males) 2,467 Police records.

• Fuller studies have been published as follows : * Conduct and the
Weather,' Monograph Supplement, No. 10, The Psychological Revieic; The
Pedagogical Seminary, April, 1898; The Scientific American Supplement, June 3,
1899; Science, August 11, 1899; Appleton's Popular Science Monthly, September,
1899; Educational Review, February, 1900; Nature, February 11, 1900,
Annals of America/n Academy of Political and Social Science, October, 1900;
POPULAE Science Monthly, April, 1901; International Journal of Ethics, July,
1901.

522 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Arrests for insanity (females) 1,097 Police records.

Suicide 2,946 Police and coroner's records.

Deaths 74,793 Board of health records.

Policemen oflF duty for sickness 191,137 Police records.

Clerical errors :;' 3,698 Bank records.

The whole niunber of data considered is 497,262.

The only influences which I wish to discuss in this paper are those
of calms. For present purposes I have considered those days as calm,
for which the total registration of the anemometer for the twenty-four
hours was less than 100 miles. This would mean an average hourly
movement of about 4 miles.

To explain more fully the data given above and discuss them:
Under 'Registration in the Public Schools' is shown the exact number
of single day's attendance which the registers of the schools studied
would have shown if none of the pupils had been absent. As a matter
of fact 9.2% were regularly absent. These absences were of course dis-
tributed throughout the whole school year, and, consequently, through-
out all kinds of weather. As would naturally be expected, they varied
to a marked degree with the weather. On excessively hot and cold days,
on very windy or rainy days, there was a falling off in attendance for
reasons that are patent.

The fact of importance from the standpoint of our present study
is the falling off on calm days. For the two years studied, the average
of absences for days upon which the total movements of the wind was
less than 100 miles, was 29%: more than three times the average for
all kinds of weather, — an excess of 214% based upon the expected, or
average number. Here is something which on a priori grounds would
scarcely have been looked for. Why were the pupils at home ? The most
logical answer to that question is, I believe, that they were not well
enough to go. That they were suffering from some of the many indis-
positions to which childhood is subject. Not necessarily measles, nor
mumps, nor scarlet fever, but the simple lack of condition which the
woman in the next flat understands perfectly when his mother remarks
that 'Johnnie was not feeling well this morning, so I kept him home
from school.' To be sure, other matters keep the children home on calm
days, such as company, funerals and parades, but these things occur
just as frequently in other kinds of weather and we can not reasonably
suppose that the conditions which we have found are due to them.

The next class of data has to do also with deportment, though not
in public schools. It is marked 'Deportment in the Penitentiary,' and
is based on the record of the prisoners committed to solitary confine-
ment in the dark cells at the penitentiary on Randall's Island. The
number so punished for misdemeanors occurring on calm days was
80% of the daily average for all kinds of weather, showing a deficiency
of 20%.

A STUDY OF CALMS. 523

The data for the next five classes of misdemeanors mentioned above
were all taken from the blotters in the record room of the New York
chief of police. Crime is there classified under 136 different heads, and
the arrests for each, recorded for each day. The classes considered by
me were studied for periods varying from two to seven years. The
figures indicate the total number of arrests made for those periods, by
the entire police force of old New York, the present borough of Man-
hattan.

The terms ' assault and battery ' and ' drunkenness ' are, I think,
self-explanatory. Each arrest for ' insanity ' meant that some one had
been picked up on the streets in a state of acute mania, or that the
police had been called to some house to remove a person in such a
condition. In most cases it probably meant an initial attack of the
disease, or the beginning of a recurrent attack. Otherwise the person
would have been in an asylum, or other authorities than the police
would have been appealed to.

To state in the briefest possible manner the seeming influence of
calm days upon the distribution of these crimes : The number of males
arrested for assault and battery upon such days was 89% of the
normal, — by which term I mean the average daily occurrence for the
whole period studied; of females for the same crime, 45% of the
normal; of males for drunl^enness, 77%; of males for insanity, 67%;
of females for insanity, 34%. The figures show that there was a
deficiency in the occurrence of all these crimes, the magnitude of
which may be computed in each case by subtracting the percentage
of occurrence from 100%, which is expectancy. In securing the data
for suicide, two sources were made use of. In fact it is not solely a
study of successful suicide, but of suicidal intent. From the stand-
point of our study it is just as valuable a datum from which to work,
to know that somebody tried to die at his own hand even though he did
not succeed, as to know he was successful in the attempt. An attempt
at suicide is a crime and is so recorded in the police records, which
were tabulated for a period of five years. This gave us 984 of our data.
The remainder were secured by going over some 28,000 death certifi-
cates for the same period in the coroner's office. The results showed
that but 63% of the normal number of suicides (and unsuccessful
attempts) occurred on calm days.

The next class of data given in the list is that of death. It is based
upon the record of deaths for all causes in the city for a period of two
years. In it we have a notable difference from the crimes and mis-
demeanors we have been studying, in that the occurrence for calm days
was above the normal, being 104%. In this respect it resembles the
study of attendance in the public schools, and also the last two classes
of data given, those of the * policemen off duty for sickness' and of

524 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

'clerical errors.' Of these two, the data for the first were taken from
the annual reports for five years of the chief of police of New York city.
It was not there stated that sickness was the cause of absence from
duty, but it is safe to assiune that it was the usual one. It is, however,
rather interesting to note that immediately following Christmas, New
Years, and other holidays, an unusual number was laid off, but we
may charitably suppose that the weather was excessively deadly in its
effects at those times. The tabulation shows that 105%, or 5% in ex-
cess of the normal number, were off duty on calm days. This would
hardly be more in accordance with our expectation than was the school
attendance under such conditions. If perfectly calm days were the
most agreeable of all kinds we might suppose that our stalwart guard-
ians of the peace had chosen them for picnics, but gentle breezes are
generally accepted as being more delectable than dead calms, and we
must look for some other causes for the absence of bluecoats under the
latter conditions.

The last class of data given, that having to do with 'clerical errors,'
was studied as a make-shift. I wished to determine the influence of
different weather conditions upon the intellectual as well as educational
states of man, and to that end sought long and earnestly for school
records which showed a daily marking of class work, but without suc-
cess. If any teacher who may read this has such, I should be very
grateful to him if they could be placed in my hands. While wondering
what other records might be made to supply the lack, I came across the
statement that in the Bank of England certain sets of books, an error
in which would prove cumulative and produce disastrous results later
on, were never worked upon during some kinds of weather, especially
London fogs, as it had been proved that clerical errors were much more
frequent at such times.

Following the clue here given I gained access to the books of some
of the largest banks in the Wall Street district, with the result that
in the records for two years, the number of errors stated were found
and tabulated with reference to their daily occurrence. The results
showed 104% of the normal, or an excess of 4% for the calm days.

To state in a sentence the occurrence of data of all these classes
under the condition of calm: absence from school, death, policemen
off duty, and clerical errors were all above the normal, while misde-
meanors in school and penitentiary, arrests for assault and battery,
drunkenness and insanity, and suicide, were below.

The facts so far given do not show whether the change with an
increase in wind was a gradual one or not. As a matter of fact it was
not. Had it been so, there would have been less excuse for this paper.
The most striking thing about the curves upon which it is based is the
sudden change which takes place in the occurrence of nearly all the

A STUDY OF CALMS.

525

Table showing Prevaxence during Calms of Phenomena studied. — One
Hundred Pee Cent. Equals the Normal or Expected Number.

Schools; absences 314% Insanity (male) 67%

Schools; deportment 50% Insanity (female) 34%

Penitentiary ; deportment 80 % Suicide 62 %

Assault and battery (male) 89% Death 104%

Assault and battery (female) 45% Policemen off duty 105%

Drunkenness (male) 78% Banks, Errors in 105%

31+

iao%

A

A

4

Btd

to
u
u

z

UJ

!2

<

g

Ml

1-
r

u

a

<

UJ

-J
<
Z

u
u.

UJ

z

u

-1
<
z

z

u

40^

(0

-)
0
0

?=,

Z

0

a

Z
UJ

1-
z

UJ

b

3
•<

<n
5

3
(0

z
111

X

z

D

a

>-

Z
<

z

Z
tu
u.

ui

z

UJ

0
u

5

X

111

UI

u

-1
0

z
<

20?

<n

0

a.

<

«t

0

in

0

a

01

B

«

activities (or cessations of activity in the case of death) with a slight
increase in atmospheric movement. In the case of arrests for assault
and battery and for insanity (both males and females), and of mis-
deeds in the penitentiary, all of which had shown deficiencies for calms
— and some of them very large ones — excesses were shown for wind
m.ovements between 100 and 150 miles per day, while misdemeanors in
the schools were also above the normal before a movement of 200 miles
had been reached. On the other hand, policemen off duty and death,
both of which had been excessive in number during calms, took a sudden
drop as the wind arose, and showed deficiencies for the next wind
group (100-150 miles). Suicide, drunkenness and clerical errors
alone showed gradual changes with the wind. The appearance of the
curves as a whole is such as to lead me to place calms in a class by
themselves as far as wind influences are concerned. High winds seem
to have an influence peculiarly their own, gradually merging into that
peculiar to moderate and slight movements, but when the aerial stag-
nation of 100 miles per day or less is reached a sudden change takes
place, and certain human phenomena suddenly increase in numbers,
while others drop almost to a vanishing point. Which are the ones in
excess? Absence from school, absence from police duty, clerical errors
and death. But absence from school means sickness, absence from
duty the same, clerical errors the same in milder forms, and death the
same at its maximum.

526 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

To restate: during calms, those life phenomena which are due to
depleted vitality are excessive. But let us return to those phenomena
which were deficient in occurrence during cahns. They were misde-
meanors in public schools and penitentiaries, cases of assault and bat-
tery, insanity, drunkenness and suicide. To analyze each briefly: In
the public schools, sins of commission rather than sins of omission are
usually the occasion of bad marks in deportment. It is usually the
active, energetic boy, the one with vitality to spare who gets the
demerits. The anemic youngster may never stand at the head of his
class, but he is very likely to delight his fond marmna with a mark of
100 in deportment. If that be so, and I speak with authority upon this
point if upon no other, disorder in the school room is an active thing,
and an evidence of excessive vitality. With the penitentiary inmate I
have had less experience, but upon d priori grounds would argue that
what is true for the child in question of deportment would not be
radically different for the adult. In fact the wardens in charge, upon
being questioned on the matter, gave it as their opinion that the
prevalence of disorder bore a pretty close relation to physical health,
varying directly with it; that order was only preserved through evi-
dence of superior force on their part; that a sick person was always
a good one, but that with a return to health conditions were frequently
very different. We may then conclude that in the penitentiary mis-
demeanors are evidences of excessive vitality.

With persons arrested for the crime of assault and battery the same
is, I believe, demonstrably true. One might feel like fighting and
perhaps more frequently does feel so when possessed of *that tired feel-
ing' which is the fortune of patent medicine venders, but to feel like
fighting without doing so, never brought a man before the police judge
for the crime which we are considering. There must be both the in-
clination and the consciousness of strength to back it up before one
would be likely to figure in this class of data.

In the case of the next class, that of arrests for insanity, we shall
take the word of the psychiatrist that acute mania increases with any
condition which tends to augment the output of nervous energy. The
daily fi actuations in strength which all have experienced are not so
much those of physical, as of nervous energy, if the distinction may be
made, and with any having tendencies to mania the results would be
those which our records showed.

With the occurrence of drunkenness and of suicide we have seem-
ing contradiction to the belief which I have been attempting to main-
tain for the other phenomena which were deficient during calms,
namely that they were evidences of excessive vitality. To discuss the
peculiar problem which each of these presents would take us too far
from our present subject, so I will simply refer any who are interested

A STUDY OF CALMS. 527

in following the subject further to papers already published by me on
the subject.*

With these possible exceptions we can say: that during calms those
life phenomena which are due to excessive vitality are deficient in num-
ber. If these theses have been sufficiently defended, and figures are
not in existence with which to refute them, the next logical question
would be, 'Why?'

Two hypotheses may, I believe, be presented in answer. The first
is based upon the general facts bearing upon ventilation, and the sec-
ond upon those of atmospheric electricity. The first would only be
applicable to the conditions of large cities — and I will again call at-
tention to the fact that all the data of the present problem were for
New York City — while the second would be valid for any spot on the
earth's surface. In discussing the first I would call attention to the
fact that combustion of any sort, whether within the lungs of animal
organisms or in the ordinary processes of burning, depletes the air of
its oxygen and surcharges it with carbonic acid gas. If the normal
proportions of oxygen are to be maintained in the immediate vicinity
of such combustion, fresh air must by some means be brought in to
take the place of that, the normal mixture of which has been disturbed.
We are quite familiar with these facts in their bearing upon the venti-
lation of buildings, but there is no difference except that of magnitude
between a building in which the air is being robbed of its oxygen
through combustion, and a city in which the same process is going on.

Three million animal organisms (not all himian) and half as many
more fires, all without adequate vegetable organisms to reverse the pro-
cess should, we would argue, make tremendous inroads upon the at-
mospheric stock of oxygen. That this is true has been demonstrated
by Dr. J. B. Cohen in an article appearing in the Smithsonian Reports
for 1895, p. 573. He there shows that the proportion of carbonic acid
gas varies to a very marked degree in the center of the city of Man-
chester, England; that the variation extends from the normal amount
at times, to more than four times that amount at others, the average
being nearly three times the normal. Although he makes no reference
to the fact, it is, I believe, safe to assume that these variations bear a
fixed relation to wind movements. Certainly when the wind was very
violent, no considerable difference could exist between the composition
of the atmosphere in a great center of population and in the surround-
ing country where the normal mixture of gases would be found. It is
safe also to assume that what was true for Manchester would be for
New York City, and to assume at least as a working hypothesis that

* ' Drunkenness and the Weather,' Annals of the American Society of
Political and Social Science, November, 1900; 'Suicide and the Weather,*
PoPUTAB Science Monthly, April, 1901.

528 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

during calms the atmosphere for that city contains an excess of car-
bonic acid gas and a consequent deficiency of oxygen. The devitalizing
effect of the former gas upon life processes and the importance of the
latter to them are facts too well recognized to need discussion here.
That they are demonstrated by the conditions stated earlier in this
paper I shall maintain until some more tenable hypothesis is brought
forward.

Some interesting facts not already alluded to are suggested by this
study, and in conclusion I shall mention two of them very briefly.

First, there would seem to be reason to infer that the influence of
cahns upon children is more marked than that upon adults. The basis
for this belief is found in the fact that the absentees from school were
increased three-fold during their prevalence, while no one of the classes
of adults was affected to anything like such an extent.

Second, that women seem to be more sensitive to such influence
than men. Evidence of this are to be found in the study of arrests for
assault and battery where the sexes were tabulated separately.

In explanation of my own conception of the whole problem of
weather influences, I would say, in closing, that we cannot suppose
peculiar meteorological conditions to be the immediate cause of many
of the abnormalities of conduct which vary with them. I have deter-
mined that suicide is much more frequent when the barometer is low
than when it is high, yet would not wish to assert that low barometrical
conditions ever drove a man to self destruction. The only thing sup-
posable is that during such atmospheric conditions, the general emo-
tional states are of such qualities that other things are more likely to
do so.

This would be just as true for any of the other abnormalities of
conduct studied. We can on the strength of the whole series of studies
claim to have demonstrated that the metabolic processes of life to some
extent vary with the weather states, and that these variations in metab-
olism make themselves evident both through physiological and psy-
chological manifestations. More than this we do not at present claim.

OUR FOREIGN COMMERCE IN 1901. 5^9

OUR FOREIGN COMMERCE IN 1901.*

By FREDERIC EMORY,

CHIEF OF THE BUREAU OF FOREIGN COMMERCE.

^T^HE commercial reports of diplomatic and consular officers for the
-'- calendar year 1901 record continued growth in the sales of many
lines of manufactures from the United States in foreign markets and
the increase of the general concern in Europe as to the possible results
of our industrial competition. Although the figures of our exports
compiled by the Treasury Department show a considerable falling off
in the total value of manufactured goods sent abroad, there seems to
be a steady and uninterrupted spread in the popularity of what may
be termed American novelties all over Europe. By the word 'novel-
ties^ are meant not only labor-saving implements and machinery to
which most Europeans were strangers, but a great variety of articles
of merchandise, such as boots and shoes, leather goods, hats and cloth-
ing, rubber goods, furniture and household utensils, hardware and
cutlery, canned goods, glassware, clocks and .watches, scientific appa-
ratus, electrical supplies, and cotton, silk and woolen textiles — all of
which possess distinguishing points of excellence and relative cheap-
ness, new to Europe, which commend them to purchasers there in
preference to similar articles of home manufacture. In other words,
while the aggregate of our exports of manufactured goods has shrunk,
the variety of our sales in Europe is being extended and the territory
upon which they are encroaching is being steadily enlarged.

Advances in Austria-Hungary.
A striking example of this is seen in the case of Austria-Hungary,
the country in which originated the idea of a European combination
against American goods and where the hostility of the industrial forces
continues to be most pronounced. Notwithstanding this, the imports
from the United States, according to Consul-General Hearst, of
Vienna,! are increasing rapidly, although American exporters have
not until recently given general attention to that part of Europe,
'which is considerably removed from ports in closest touch with trans-
Atlantic commerce.' So formidable is the growth of American imports,
in fact, that 'Austrian manufacturers and agriculturists are making

* Extract from the ' Review of the World's Commerce,' introductory to
'Commercial Relations of the United States, 1901 ' (in press).

tSee 'Advance Sheets of Consular Reports,' No. 1193 (November 19, 1901).
VOL. LX. — 34.

53° POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

an organized effort to stem the inflow.' At a recent conference in
Vienna to take measures against American competition, adds Mr.
Hurst, 'it was openly acknowledged that the commercial policy of the
present time is dictated and controlled by the United States. . . .
Instances of the gigantic strides of our American manufacturing indus-
tries are cited to show our capability to forge ahead of all competitors
in many fields.'

Still Leading in Germany.

In a report upon the commerce and industries of Germany,* Con-
sul-General Mason, of Berlin, says the United States again heads the
list of countries selling to that country, with a total of nearly $343,-
000,000, or 16.9 per cent, of the entire bulk of German imports,
although it should be noted that this covers the values of all American
products landed on German soil, 'a large percentage of which simply
pass through ... en route to Russia, Austria-Hungary, Switzerland,
and Scandinavia.' It may be expected that later returns will show a
falling off in German imports, owing to the recent industrial depres-
sion which has seriously impaired the purchasing power of the Empire.
But in Germany, as in Austria-Hungary, our goods continue to hold
their own, and the 'overshadowing competition of the United States'
is regarded by German economists as of grave importance to the future
of German industry and commerce. "It is recognized by intelligent
Germans," adds Mr. Mason, " that in future industrial and trade
competitions, that fine composite product of American racial qualities,
institutions, and methods, the workingman who thinks, will, in com-
bination with our unequaled resources, turn the scale in favor of the
United States."

Supplying Europe with Goods we used to Import.

The same concern is felt in France, in Belgium, in Switzerland, in
Great Britain — in other words, in all of the highly developed manu-
facturing countries of Europe — and it is a most significant fact that
even in specialties which were once thought to be exclusively their own,
the United States is becoming a more and more formidable competitor.
Who would have imagined a few years ago that we would make such
rapid progress in the manufacture of silk that we would soon cease
buying silks from France, with the exception of highly finished goods,
and would actually be exporting silks to that country? Yet this is
what has happened. So of tin plate in Wales. At one time it was
doubtful whether we could manufacture tin plate profitably, and it
was confidently asserted that the Welsh must always control the Ameri-

* Printed in 'Advance Sheets of Consular Reports,' No. 1185 (November 9,
1901).

OVn FOREIGN COMMERCE IN 1901. 53 1

can trade. But we now manufacture all the tin plate we need, and the
Welsh have recently imported tin bars from us.

There are, indeed, surprisingly few of the articles which used to
be obtained exclusively abroad that are not now produced in the
United States. The woolen as well as the silk industry of France and
the hosiery industry of Germany are said to be suffering severely from
our competition, and the Bohemian glass industry is feeling the effect
of the increase of glass manufacture in the United States. Our cot-
tons are steadily gaining in taste and finish, and are now sold in Eng-
land in competition with the Manchester product. Says the Leipziger
Tagehlatt of April 10, 1901: "Even in fancy articles, in which the
European market has set the styles for the entire world, the American
manufacturers are beginning to compete with the European. British
calico prints are also already receiving competition from America. As
we hear, travelers of a well-known American house have offered Ameri-
can cotton stuffs in England with much success, and the London
authorities declare them to be tasteful and worth their price." A New
York company manufacturing cotton stuffs intends to found a Paris
house which shall introduce its fancy woven stuffs for women's dresses,
and trimmed women's hats are being exported from the United States
to Europe. "The reversible cloths which are made in the United
States," said Consul Sawter, of Glauchau, in a report sent in 1900,
"are now the style in high-priced goods in the German capital." In
agriculture, as in manufactures, we are constantly widening the sphere
of our production. The orange and lemon growers of southern Europe
are feeling the effect of California's competition. "It is ridiculous,"
says a Spanish newspaper,* "to think that fruits and vegetables raised
on the slopes of the distant Pacific should compete at the very doors of
Spain with those produced in this country. . . . Shall we live to see
American oranges on the Valencia market itself?" We are producing
our own raisins, our prunes, our wines, our olive oil, and are sending
them abroad. California prunes now compete in Europe with Bosnian
prunes, once a staple export to New York.

In the busy manufacturing district of Liege, Belgium, according
to the annual report of Consul Winslow, more American goods are
consumed than ever before, in spite of business depression. Our sales
in general, says Mr. Winslow, have doubled in the past three years,
and it is now common to see articles marked 'Americaine' in the shop
windows. Spanish journals complain that steel rails are imported from
the United States, notwithstanding the production of iron is one of
the important industries of Spain. Vice-Consul Wood, of Madrid,
says our goods are to be seen everywhere, and include such American

• 'Advance Sheets,' No. 1043.

532 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

specialties as hair-clipping machines, dental supplies, typewriters,
electric motors, etc.

Decline in Exports of Manufactures.

The people of Europe, it may be assumed, therefore, are not less
but more favorably inclined to goods of American origin, and the fall-
ing off in our exports, so far as they are concerned, is to be attributed
to temporary causes, such as business depression, reducing their pur-
chasing power, with the natural result of falling prices, or to dis-
crimination against our products. The reduction is also found to be
due, in part, to the elimination of the Hawaiian Islands and Porto
Eico from the Treasury tables of exports to foreign countries, and to
trade conditions in the United States, such as those affecting the
exports of copper, which have checked the outflow of manufactured
goods.

The Treasury statement of imports and exports of the United
States for the calendar year 1901 (subject to revision) shows that the
total imports amounted to $880,421,056, an increase of $51,271,3-12
over the year 1900; and that the total exports were $1,465,380,919, a
falling oft of $12,565,194 compared with the previous year. The
exports of manufactures amounted to $395,144,030, against $441,-
406,942 during the same period of 1900— a falling off of $46,262,912.
The percentage of manufactures in the total of exports declined from
30.38 in 1900 to 27.48 in 1901. On the other hand, the exports of
agricultural products rose in value from $904,655,411 in 1900 to
$940,246,488 in 1901— a gain of $35,591,077, thus largely offsetting
the loss in manufactures. The percentage increased from 62.26 to
65.38. The decline in the exports of copper, not including ore,
amounted to $24,007,711; and in manufactures of iron and steel, to
$27,093,683.

Has Expansion been cheched?

Notwithstanding the continued spread of our goods in Europe,
and the deductions to be made from the Treasury figures on the score
of accidental or natural causes of decline in manufactured exports, it
is evident that the 'American invasion' of Europe has ceased, for the
time being, to be of the sweeping character that distinguished it at
first as an economic phenomenon. Our advantages in industrial com-
petition in the abundance and cheapness of raw material and fuel, in
the superior efficiency of our skilled labor, in the unexampled fecun-
dity of our people in the invention of labor-saving machinery, and the
advances we are constantly making in economies of production are
still the subject of much anxious speculation in the great industrial
centers of Europe ; but there are some foreign observers who are encour-
aged by recent developments to hope that conditions may be more

OUR FOREIGN COMMERCE IN 1901. 533

nearly equalized by the substitution of new processes and improved
machinery modeled on our own and the adoption of legislative meas-
ures aimed especially at our goods. It was pointed out in the 'Review
of the World's Commerce' a year ago* that, in the reports of the con-
sular officers for 1900, there ran 'along with a common note of satis-
faction, a warning, here and there, of a more strenuous competition,
which, in the end, may counterbalance our superior advantages to a
considerable extent and check our progress in the world's markets,
unless we equip ourselves in the meantime for the ultimate phases of
the struggle.' As yet, it cannot be said that Europe has made any
sensible progress, in actual performance, toward more strenuous com-
petition. The measures adopted thus far are almost wholly tentative
or preparatory, and it may be that those which involve restrictive legis-
lation will be abandoned if the United States should consent to modify .
its tariff policy and permit the importation of a larger volume of Euro-
pean goods in return for similar concessions.

An English Vieiu of American Competition.
Upon the other hand, the decline in our exports of manufactures
is taken in some quarters to indicate a subsidence in the aggressiveness
and force of our competition. The London Times of January 7, 1902,
in a careful review of our material progress in 1901, inclines to the
view that we may have reached 'the top of the wave of commercial
prosperity' and that the danger apprehended from the United States
of 'aggressive economic interference with other countries' is not so
serious as it was generally thought to be in the earlier stages of our
expansion. Great as has been the real commercial and industrial suc-
cess of the United States during the last two or three years, says the
Times, "we are convinced that it is insufficient to warrant the view
of its economic results taken either by sanguine Americans or by timid
Europeans. The United States are not, as many Americans and some
foreigners seem to imagine, exempt from the laws of nature. There
are people who are so fascinated by great relative magnitude that they
are unable to distinguish between it and infinity. Their judgment
becomes, so to speak, polarized by the too intense contemplation of
great but variable economic forces, just as a compass needle is dis-
turbed by the proximity of a relatively large mass of iron, and their
minds become incapable of receiving impressions from evidence that
the really permanent economic forces are not dead or even sleeping.
Now, there have been several pieces of evidence during the past year
that the economic situation in the United States is not altogether so
good as it appears to those who merely look at and discuss the surface,

* ' Review of the World's Commerce for 1900.'

534 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

whether from habit or because they have reasons for not wishing the
public to look any deeper." In support of its assertions, the Times
endeavors to show that the continued expansion of traffic receipts of
American railroads loses much of its apparent significance when the
fact is considered that it is not a new thing, but 'had been going on for
a long time before the end of 1900'; that the sanguine prediction that,
in a very few years, New York would be the monetary center of the
world, based upon the theory that the United States was becoming a
creditor instead of a debtor nation and was lending money to Europe
instead of borrowing, is not being realized; that 'America has gone,
for the time being, quite as far in the direction of employing her
resources and credit as is safe, and possibly a little farther'; and that
"the American public has never recovered from the fright it got in
May last, in spite of every endeavor on the part of the leaders of the
business world to allay the apprehension created by the panic, and to
encourage a belief in the strength of the bond which 'community of
interest' was supposed to have established among the able and ambi-
tious men who govern the great business corporations of the United
States."

Our Industrial Efficiency Undiminished.
Whatever be the force of these conclusions, they do not necessarily
detract from the efficiency of the United States as a competitive force
in the world's markets, for they do not in any way affect the advan-
tages peculiar to us as an industrial nation, and if they did, they would
be offset by drawbacks such as insufficient supplies of raw material and
fuel under which the other manufacturing countries must, in the very
nature of things, continue to labor. Moreover, it will probably be a
long time before the conservative, slow-moving industrial forces of
Europe will adapt themselves to the novel requirements which Ameri-
can ingenuity and enterprise have created. Both labor and capital in
Europe would seem to have a long and difficult task ahead of them
before they shall have approximated to the economics of production
which we have mastered.

Alleged Obstruction hy British Labor.
The labor conditions in Great Britain especially appear to be such
as to seriously embarrass progress there and to give us a broader mar-
gin of opportunity in more quickly and more economically meeting
the demands of foreign consumers. In a series of articles entitled
'The Crisis in British Industry,' a writer in the London Times asserts
that the English trades-unions have so hedged about the productive
forces of the Kingdom as to greatly diminish output and delay the
execution of work. "Thirty years ago, our correspondent states,
and we believe accurately," says the Times editorially, "a bricklayer

OUR FOREIGN COMMERCE IN 1901. 535

would lay 1,000 or 1,200 bricks in a day. In America, we are given
to understand, the figure is even higher. Now, by an unwritten but
mercilessly enforced trades-union law, a man must not lay more than
400, and if he works for the London County Council — that is to say,
for the ratepayers — he must not lay more than 330. Our correspondent
quotes a case of a building put up for the school board in which the
average output of the bricklayers was 70 bricks a day. Yet these are
men receiving the highest current rate of wages, a rate very greatly
in excess of what was paid when 1,000 bricks were laid per day. This
is typical of what goes on in every trade, though it may not always be
so easy to give exact figures."

The United States consul at Liverpool, Mr. Boyle, in his annual
report for 1901,* gives a most interesting description of the lengths
to which this restrictive policy is carried. "The charge is made," he
says, "that there is a general disposition on the part of British work-
ingmen to obstruct as much as possible the use of labor-saving machin-
ery, and to limit its output whenever the employers add machinery to
their plant; and also that, in certain trades, the rule is 'one man, one
machine,' whereas in America one man will attend to two or three
machines. It is furthermore charged that there is an increasing dis-
position on the part of British workingmen to shirk work, and to use
all expedients to perform as little labor as possible during the hours
for which they are paid. These charges are made with great particu-
larity against trades-unionists. There is, it is to be noted, a growing
tendency throughout the country to shorten the hours of labor, while
at the same time there is an upward movement in wages. As a rule,
trades-unionists deny the charge of obstructing the use of labor-saving
machinery and limiting the output; and they retort that employers
are lacking in enterprise in not fitting up their factories with up-to-
date plants. It is undoubtedly true, however, that, speaking generally
and quite apart from the question of trades-unionism, English manu-
facturers find it almost impossible to get the same amount of product
from machines as is obtained in America. There are two reasons that
account for this, independent of any agreement, expressed or implied,
on the part of trades-unionists to limit the output. The first reason
is that, as a rule, the British workman is not as adaptable as the Ameri-
can workman — he does not so readily get command of new appliances
as the American workman ; and the second is that it is not the custom
of the country for an Englishman, whether mechanic, clerk or laborer,
to work as hard as an American." In Consul Boyle's opinion, Hrades-
unionism has an influence in England far beyond what it has in the
United States'; but he adds: 'It is but just to say that there is greater

• See 'Advance Sheets of Consular Reports,' No. 1222 (December 24, 1901).

536 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

need of trades-unions in this country than in America. Undoubtedly,
English trades-unions have brought about great reforms in the condi-
tion of factories, as to the hours of labor, in regard to the employment
of children, etc.; and there are indications that the alleged restrictive
policy of trades-unions, express or implied, is gradually being modi-
fied."

American Worhingmen promoting Expansion.

Whatever be the merits of the points at issue between employers
and organized labor, it is evident that the existing conditions are not
only unfavorable to the increase of Great Britain's competitive energy,
but actually handicap her in the effort to adapt herself to the indus-
trial exigencies which we have created. The advantage we enjoy in
this particular is rendered all the more formidable from what seems to
be a growing tendency in the United States toward a more harmonious
cooperation between labor and capital, as was strikingly shown in the
recent conference of employers and labor leaders in New York which
resulted in the creation of a permanent board of conciliation. Ameri-
can workingmen generally, instead of seeking to limit output, strive
to increase it, and they find their reward in the cheapening of produc-
tion, which enables the manufacturer to compete in foreign markets
and thus get rid of the surplus beyond the demands of home consump-
tion, with the result of keeping his factory going and giving steady
employment to the operatives throughout the year.

Competitive Energy hut partly developed.

It may be assumed that, whatever the symptoms of a falling off
in our sales abroad, the causes are not to be found in any decline of
our industrial efficiency or in a more strenuous competition on the
part of Europe. It is evident, however, that, if we would again attain
the rate of progress of a year ago and keep it against all comers, we
must avail ourselves of something more than the indigenous resources
that have been described. As yet, we can not be said to have made
full use of our powers. It must not be forgotten that, as has fre-
quently been pointed out, our sudden and surprising success in invad-
ing Europe with manufactured goods was due, not to concerted and
systematic effort on our part, but to the need of finding outlets for
surplus product and the unlocked for recognition by European pur-
chasers of the superiority of many articles of American manufacture.
To a very great extent, our goods have sold themselves in the Euro-
pean markets, and that, too, in the face of high tariffs, of the hostility
of industrial interests, and of a very general indisposition on the
part of our manufacturers to adapt their styles, patterns, etc., to the
tastes or prejudices of foreign consumers.

OUR FOREIGN COMMERCE IN 1901. 537

Necessary Aids to Future Growth.
It may be said, indeed, that we have hardly more than entered
upon a novitiate in fitting ourselves for international competition.
The establishment of sample warehouses and agencies at important
trade centers, the employment of commercial travelers conversant with
the language, customs, trade usages of particular countries; the devel-
opment of adequate banking and transportation facilities; the adop-
tion of proper methods of packing; the offering of more liberal credits
— these are some of the conditions of the full utilization of our oppor-
tunities in foreign markets. If to these is added provision for a
larger volume of exchange with countries which, to a greater or less
extent, are now excluded from our markets, the real strength of our
competitive powers will be developed.

Increasing Popular Interest in Foreign Trade.
It is encouraging to note that the people of the United States are
becoming more and more sensible of the value of foreign trade and
the importance of intelligent and well-directed efforts for its expan-
sion. The growth of popular comprehension and approval is illus-
trated not only by the establishment of commercial museums, the
organization of export associations, the demand for the creation of
a separate department of the Federal Government having special
charge of industry and commerce, and for the improvement of the
consular service as an agency of commercial expansion, but also by
the fact that our educational institutions, one after another, are rap-
idly adopting commercial instruction as an important feature of their
work. Even the ordinary high schools are engrafting commercial
geography upon their courses, and during the past year, the Bureau
of Foreign Commerce has received applications from teachers and
scholars in many parts of the country for copies of monthly and other
consular reports as aids in this branch of study. The requests for
information as to trade conditions in foreign countries from manufac-
turers and exporters have multiplied rapidly, and it may now be said
that there is hardly an important business concern in the United States
having a present or prospective interest in foreign trade which does
not avail itself of the data furnished by the consular service.

Conditions in Undeveloped Markets.
The relation of the economic forces of the United States to those of
Europe may be taken as the surest index to the probable future of our
trade with the rest of the world ; for it must be evident that, if we can
continue to compete with European industries in their home markets,
we shall have but little to fear from their rivalry in the neutral or
undeveloped markets, where we would meet them on an equal footing.

538 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Even in Canada, notwithstanding a preferential tariff of 33% per cent.
in favor of British imports, we continue, says Consul-General Bit-
tinger, of- Montreal, to enjoy 'more of Canadian customs than the rest
of the world put together,' and many classes of goods which some years
ago were bought in Great Britain are now more cheaply and more
conveniently purchased in the United States. Last year, our sales to
Canada amounted to more than $110,000,000, while those of Great
Britain were only about $43,000,000. In Mexico, Consul General
Barlow reports, the purchases from the United States show a large
increase — over $4,000,000, or 11.8 per cent — while those from every
other country exporting largely to Mexico, except Germany, show a
large decrease. The German gain was only about $411,000, or 5.8
per cent. In the reports from Central America and South America,
there are gratifying indications of substantial growth in the sales of
our goods, and we are steadily widening the variety of our exports to
Africa, Asia, Australasia — in other words, to every part of the world.

Commercial WorTc of Consular Officers.
In the 'Eeview of the World's Commerce' introductory to the
annual reports for 1901* the effort has been made to summarize the
detailed reports of the consular officers in such a way as to bring out
the points of chief interest as to the trade and industries of the
various countries and the obstacles to, as well as the opportunities for,
the sale of American goods. It is but due to the consular officers to add
that the quality of their work shows continued improvement, and that,
thanks to their industry and promptitude, the Department is again
enabled to transmit the annual reports to Congress within a month
after the close of the calendar year.

'Commercial Relations of the United States' (in press),

TEE SOIL AS AN ECONOMIC FACTOR. 539

THE SOIL AS AN ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL FACTOR.

By frank K. CAMERON,

U. S. DBPAHTMKNT OF AGRICULTUBE.

THERE is no part of the material world about us that is more inti-
mately connected with the general welfare of the people than the
soil. It has often been said, and well said, that it is the foundation of
agriculture, in more senses than one. And the importance of agricul-
ture in our present social systems is too well understood to justify any
further comment here.

For practically a century the study of soils, and the phenomena
they present, has received the attention of some of the ablest and most
distinguished savants the ranks of science have held. Much is now
known about soils from the point of view of the geologist, the physicist,
the chemist and the bacteriologist. Much more is yet to be learned,
and this perhaps is not the least interesting feature of the subject to
one of a philosophic or scientific turn of mind. But when the geologist,
the physicist, the chemist and the bacteriologist have brought together
all the data and material of which they are capable, and have presented
it to the world in accessible form, it is evident that but a very small
part of the study of soils has been accomplished, or can be accom-
plished, by them.

It is necessary, as this paper will endeavor to show, that upon the
labors of those investigators who have worked from the point of view
of the natural sciences, the economist and the sociologist must build for
the best development and use of the soil. They seem, up to the present,
to have given very little attention to the subject, and the general
knowledge of it seems to be summed up in the saying — *A poor soil, a
poor people; a rich soil, a rich people.' This aphorism is in fact the
immediate text of this paper. It implies what is apparently self-evi-
dent— that the soil is an economic factor because upon its character
and the treatment of it depends the success of agricultural operations;
and it is a social factor because the character of the soil in a very large
measure determines the character of the people living upon it. The
causal connection between the typical Yankee's well-known character-
istics and his peculiar soils and environments has become almost classi-
cal in our literature. That which exists between some of the poor white
communities in our Southern States and their soils is even more obvious.
And just as striking are the opposite conditions on some of the rich
limestone soils of our eastern states, or some of the intensely cultivated,
rich, irrigated districts of the west.

540 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Like all popular sayings, this one contains much truth. But it is
sometimes untrue or at least misleading. For whether or not the soil
be poor will depend entirely upon the point of view, and that there may
be at least more than one point of view for any given soil will, it is
believed, become evident from the following pages. Soils which are
seemingly poor, and supporting but a poor population, may be in fact,
or at least potentially, quite rich. But in order to make plain what is
meant, it will be well to point out briefly some of the facts that are now
known, and some of the views that are held by those who are making an
especial study of soils. It will not be necessary to go into very much
detail, for it will be sufficient to present the leading ideas in a general
way in order to show that the work of the physical scientist touches, as
a necessary consequence, both the field of economics and sociology.
From these points of contact the effort will be made to indicate a few
at least of the social and economic possibilities which a study of the
soil presents, and to submit a plea that those to whom we look as leaders
in these latter directions will find this subject of such importance and
of so much interest that they will be impelled to do something towards
the development of this side of it for the benefit of our country and
possibly mankind at large. It would seem, as indicated above, that an
almost virgin field for investigation is offered here, which can hardly
fail to yield rich rewards to the student.

The soil is a very complex, heterogeneous mixture, or as one may say
technically, material system. It is composed of three distinct parts or
phases: First, the mineral and organic matters in a solid condition;
second, the water, or water solution, which all soils contain ; and third,
the gaseous part, which fills the interstitial spaces between the solid
components of the soil not occupied by the ground solutions. Further-
more, the soil is in contact with the atmosphere above it. It is probably
from the ground solutions alone, or almost entirely alone, that the
plants take their nutriment as far as the soil itself is concerned. Of
course it is perfectly well Iniown that the carbon and oxygen, which
form so large a part of the plant tissues, are obtained mainly from the
atmosphere above the soil and in contact with it. But the plant can
derive its mineral foods from the soil solution only, and it is upon the
concentration and composition of the solution that the well-being of the
plant is primarily dependent. The nature of this soil solution is in
turn dependent both upon the nature of the solid and of the gaseous
components of the soil. Furthermore, it is intimately connected with
the physical conditions of the soil — that is to say, with its texture, or
the size of the solid particles, and the structure, or the arrangement
of the particles, mainly because upon these factors depends the amount
of water which the soil will hold under any given conditions of tempera-
ture, climate, etc. And upon the amount of water which it will hold

TEE SOIL AS AN ECONOMIC FACTOR. 54i

will depend in turn the composition and nature of the soil solution.
The soil, then, is composed of something more than the solid components
alone, and this point of view is well worth accentuating, because it is
not always recognized, and because upon it is dependent much of the
modern development in soil studies.

The solid components of the soil are derived from two general
sources. The mineral components are derived from the decomposition
of the subsoil, or the underlying rocks. Or at least from rocks,
although perhaps at some distance, when the soil has been carried to its
present position by water, wind or other like agencies. Besides these
mineral components of the soil, there are always more or less detritus
and organic remains from the decomposition and breaking down of
organic tissues from the present and former vegetation.

It is true that some of the components of the soil are so very little
soluble as to be called in popular language insoluble. But there is, in
reality, no such thing as an insoluble substance, and even those com-
ponents of the soil which most nearly approach this condition are, to
some extent at least, soluble in the ground water. And it is from these
slightly soluble minerals and organic substances that the ground solution
obtains its dissolved material, which serves in turn as food for the plant
when presented in this available form. By the action of atmospheric
agencies, oxidation, etc., by the solvent action of the water, by the
action of dissolved gases, such as carbon dioxide for instance, and by
the action of numerous microorganisms which exist in practically all
soils, both the mineral and organic matters are broken down, decom-
posed, and part of them made more soluble. This is essentially the
process known as weathering, and it is going on all the time. It may
be checked, or it may be augmented, but it cannot be stopped entirely.
It is nature's method for bringing the mineral nutriments in the soil
into such forms as to be 'available' for plant nourishment, in contradis-
tinction to that potential plant food which is present, but in such forms
as to be unavailable. The distinction between available and non-
available plant food, while now sufficiently obvious, was not recognized
in the earlier studies, and marks in fact one of the first great steps
forward in soil investigations.

Plants do not take from the soil solution the various dissolved
substances which it contains in the same relative proportions in which
they are present. Therefore by the (iontinued growth of a particular
kind of crop, and its periodic removal by cropping, it may happen
that some one or more of the necessaiy plant nutrients in the soil may
be removed more rapidly than others or than the normal weathering of
the soil can furnish it to the soil solution. If this process is con-
tinued far enough, the plants fail to thrive and the soil becomes barren,
or, as it is popularly phrased, exhausted. Much that is incorrect is

542 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

popularly believed on this subject of exhaustion. There is probably no
such thing, in a strict interpretation of the term, as an exhausted soil,
for it is pretty thoroughly established that although a condition of the
soil may have been brought about, as just described, in which it is not
suited to the growth of a particular crop, it may be very well suited in-
deed to some other crop, and generally is suited to some other crop, and
so the terra 'exhaustion^ in this sense is really a relative one only. It has
likewise been pretty thoroughly established now that plants, like
animals, need a varied, and, as it is sometimes called, 'balanced' ration;
tbat there is a particular combination or proportion of various con-
stituents in the nutrients which is best adapted to a plant at any
particular stage of its growth. For example, it is well understood that
for the development of a grain crop, especially at the time when the
grain is forming, a certain amount of magnesia is necessary. But
if the ratio of the magnesia to the other necessary mineral elements is
above a certain figure, the soil solutions become extremely toxic, with
the results that the crops fail and the soil is barren. It has been found
that the absolute amount of the magnesia which may be present and
probably causing the barrenness of a given area is extremely small — so
small, indeed, as to be difficult of accurate estimation. But if the ratio
of other elements to the magnesia, for instance lime, be raised suffi-
ciently high, the plants will do remarkably well, and, up to a certain
limit, the more magnesia, the better they will do, so long as the ratio of
the magnesia to the lime does not become too high. These views will
explain what was meant when it was said above that the fertility or non-
fertility of the soil is relative, and it is as a matter of fact, the explana-
tion of the earlier remark that the expression 'a poor soil, a poor people,
etc.,' may be misleading, if not positively untrue. For it is very prob-
able that there is no soil which is cultivatable at all which could not
be regarded as a fertile soil for some crop.

It is possible to modify the conditions as to the fertility in any
given soil by tillage, which changes the physical condition of the soil
and removes interfering growth from the crop we wish to cultivate;
which, on the one hand, promotes capillary rise of water from the lower
depths of the soil, or, on the other hand, cuts it off from the surface to
prevent its too rapid escape ; and which may improve the physical con-
dition of the soil and further promote the natural rate of decomposition
or weathering. Again it has been found in modern times that the
rotation of crops, or change of crops, will aid the soil. And the reason
for this probably lies in large part in the fact, as noted before, that one
crop requires a different proportion of constituents in the soil from
another, and if it is changed in the proportions of the constituents
present, it is still adapted to the succeeding crop, giving time for those
which became deficient through the growth of the first crop, to be again

THE SOIL AS AN ECONOMIC FACTOR. 543

accumulated in suiEcient quantity and relative proportion. Other
factors enter of course into rotation, such as change of the texture of
the soil produced by one crop making it better for another, the elimina-
tion of parasites, etc.

A third method is that of fertilizing, and a most complex group of
phenomena is involved in this practice. The function of fertilizing is
probably three-fold at least. The added material may change the tex-
ture, structure or other physical conditions of the soil, whether it be by
mechanical mixture or by some other physical or physico-chemical
process, such as is probably involved in the flocculation of clays by cer-
tain solutions. Its most obvious purpose, and the one which is the
controlling idea among agriculturists at large, and perhaps to
entirely too great an extent among the supposed scientific workers in
this field, is the direct addition of plant food to the soil. It is not
intended by this latter statement to minimize the importance of this
function of fertilizers, but to insist in the most emphatic way that
more attention should be given to the third function, that is — the
changes in the solubility of the soil components already present induced
by the addition of fertilizing materials, especially the so-called mineral
fertilizers or salts. This is not the place for, nor would the space
allotted to this paper permit of, a satisfactory discussion of the subject.
SuflSce it to say, for the present, that it is thoroughly well known,
though not always generally recognized, that great changes in the
solubility of the soil components already present may be brought about
by the addition of foreign material, and in this sense the process of
fertilizing is one of retarding or expediting the natural weathering of
the soil components originally present.

Within the last few years, it has come to be recognized that bacteria
or other microorganisms play a large part in the fertility of arable
soils ; that the development of some of these is desirable, that of others,
not. And while this side of the subject is in hardly more than the pre-
liminary stages of its development, yet a good deal is known as to the
several conditions which make for the presence of the desirable organ-
isms or vice versa, and these conditions are for the most part readily
controlled. Furthermore, the point has been reached when we can
actually inoculate the soil with desirable substances of this nature.
There is no branch of soil study which is offering greater promise of
advancement at the present time than this. And the opportunities it
offers for increasing our control over soil conditions augurs much for
improved agricultural practices. Here again it seems worth while to
call attention to the fact that these organisms are valuable not only for
themselves, or rather the immediate products of their activities, but
also quite as much probably for their influence upon the soil components
already present, either in breaking them down into simpler forms or in

544 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

general in making them more soluble in the ground waters, and thus
more available to plant nutrition.

It will thus be seen that it is possible to control, in a measure, the
soil. In another way much has been done in controlling soil and soil
conditions, and that is in controlling the climate above the soil. This
climate, or condition of the atmosphere above the soil and in contact
with it, is also a most important factor in the growth and develop-
ment of plants, and any way in which this can be controlled, correspond-
ingly can the development of the plants be controlled. This is familiar
to every one in the use of frames, hot-houses and conservatories, and, in
some of the modern structures of this kind, it can hardly be said that
the method is one adapted to a small scale only. In illustration, atten-
tion might be called to an establislmient in Ehode Island which has
upwards of fourteen acres under glass for the cultivation of one crop
alone. And this can hardly be regarded as an isolated instance.
Many others as extensive, or perhaps even more extensive, might be
cited. In the last few years an even more striking illustration, because
much greater in extent, of this control of climate has been developed in
this country. For this purpose as well as for some other reasons, enor-
mous areas in Florida are covered with either slats or cloth tent-like
arrangements. These are erected for the purpose of protecting the
plants and developing abnormal or unusual growth in certain varieties
of tobacco, and have proved immensely successful in prolonging the
growing season, through a modification of the climate about the plant,
keeping it moist and warm, not cutting off the light entirely, but par-
tially, and preventing the great evaporation from the surface which
would dry the soil, and hasten the ripening of the plant. The experi-
ment has been repeated in Connecticut under the auspices of the Bureau
of Soils, U. S. Department of Agriculture, in cooperation with the
Connecticut Experiment Station, over a very considerable area, some-
times single fields of as much as eight acres in extent being now pro-
tected by these cloth coverings for the production of a high-grade
wrapper leaf tobacco. The shading of one crop by another with a taller,
umbrageous growth, is a similar procedure. And this is practiced quite
extensively in some places, as in the shading of coffee trees by larger
tree growths, or the more familiar nurse crops, common in some parts
of the United States. Modifications of the climate in other ways, by
planting of trees, erection of wind brakes, and devices of a similar
nature, have been used with greater or less success in certain regions,
and are all more or less well known.

It is thus possible to greatly modify the soil and the soil conditions.
Nevertheless the fact remains that it is impossible to make one soil just
like any other soil. Consequently characteristic differences do exist in
them, and it follows that some soils are adapted to some purposes for

TEE SOIL AS AN ECONOMIC FACTOR. 545

which other soils, which are in themselves very good, are totally unsuit-
able. And this leads at once to the idea of the adaptation of special
crops to special soils.

In a general way it has long been recognized that certain soils are
unusually well adapted to the production of particular crops, as the
celery soils of Kalamazoo, the wheat soils of the Red River valley, etc.
But it is not generally recognized that each particular individual soil
is best adapted to some particular crop or rotation of crops, and perhaps
the greatest economic sin of the farmers of this country has been the
almost general refusal to appreciate this cardinal, fundamental truth.
Much improvement in this direction is to be noted within the last few
years. It has come to be more and more recognized that at least some
soils are more profitable when confined to the production of particular
crops, as with the lettuce soils about Boston, the soils of the apple belt
through the middle Western States, the soils of the sugar-beet areas, the
sandy truck soils of the Atlantic seaboard, all coming into prominence
for the particular crops cited.

Something more than merely empirical determinations on this sub-
ject can now be recorded ; and perhaps the most striking illustration is
a development of certain soils in the Connecticut Valley, which soils
were generally regarded as very poor and practically valueless, until it
was pointed out as the result of the soil survey of the Connecticut
Valley by the Bureau of Soils, U. S. Department of Agriculture, that
these very soils were markedly similar to those of Florida, on which the
best Sumatra seed tobaccos were grown. The climate of the Connecti-
cut Valley during the growing season is not very different from that
of Florida, and by the use of the tent-like arrangements for shading, to
which reference was made above, climatic conditions over the soils in
both Connecticut and Florida can be made very similar indeed. This
has actually been done, and there is now being grown in the Connecti-
cut Valley a fine grade of cigar wrapper, which apparently equals in
every respect the best product of Florida or of the Island of Sumatra
itself. This is but one of the most striking of several similar develop-
ments for particular types of soil to which attention might be directed,
where the possibilities have clearly been seen, before the introduction
of a crop or dependent industry. Many thousands of dollars have thus
been brought to the producers, and this, than which there could be no
greater, is a powerful economic argument for the liberal support of
scil studies on a broad, but systematic, basis.

"With this idea of the adaptation of particular soils to par-
ticular crops, it becomes evident at once that the classification
of the agricultural soils is not only desirable, but a fundamental
necessity for the thorough scientific study of the soils of the country.
This necessity is now so well recognized that the national government

VOL. LX. — 35.

546 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is supporting a large and growing bureau in the Department of Agri-
culture for the classifying and mapping of the soils in the principal
agricultural areas, supporting these surveys with strong laboratories
for the investigation of soil phenomena, its management and economic
control. More interesting to note, is the growth of this work with some
of the individual states which, either in cooperation with the surveys
of the national government or individually, are now annually expend-
ing many thousands of dollars in this direction, with the firm conviction
that in no other way could a surer investment be secured for ultimate
large returns. But the work upon soils, thus hastily sketched, has been
and is being done almost entirely upon the physical side. This has been,
in the past, in accordance with the peculiar nature of the case. But
there is another side, no less important, as difficult, possibly more diffi-
cult, to handle, giving justification for the title to this paper.

The results which are being obtained both by the national Depart-
ment of Agriculture, by the many experiment stations, and other
agricultural institutions connected with the American universities, are
being freely disseminated among the people, and the major part of the
results obtained abroad, not only in England, Germany and France,
but in Eussia, Sweden, Norway, Holland, Japan and elsewhere, are
available to any intelligent farmer in this country who cares to take
a little trouble and pains to obtain them. This being the case, the
question naturally arises as to the reason why the practical agricul-
turists of this country make so little use of these results. For it is not
to be doubted that the 'agricultural possibilities of the soils of the
United States are very great — certainly much greater than has been
realized thus far. The answer to this question is partly a psychological
and wholly a sociological one. With some few exceptions, the farmers
at large do not approach their occupation with the point of view con-
noted by the term 'business principles.' Perhaps this idea is best
brought out in the yet current classification of man's occupations into
the learned professions, farming and business. It is generally recog-
nized by all professional men that their best success is obtained when
the principles of business men are applied to their own affairs. As a
matter of fact, what are usually called business principles are sound
scientific methods. But this has not been recognized as yet by the
main body of farmers in this country, and they seem to be actuated
in the management of their farms largely by sentiment, much as some
men take their religion or their politics, because their fathers managed
in this way, therefore that is the way in which they should manage.
Their forebears did well, under vastly different conditions and standards
than those which obtain to-day, and the obvious fact that the de-
scendants are not doing so well is met with all manner of explanations
and excuses, which, just as obviously, have little or nothing to do with

TEE SOIL AS AN ECONOMIC FACTOR. 547

the case. Instead of studying a soil and its situation, and determining
to what crop, or rotation of crops, it may be best adapted, the farmer
continues to cultivate the same crops his predecessors grew, or he puts
in one he may happen to wish for some fancied reason, possibly in some
cases caprice. For example, a man may wish a grass farm, and instead
of studying his soils to determine if they be adapted to this purpose,
he may sink hundreds of dollars in a vain attempt, foreordained neces-
sarily to failure, which might have been as surely foreseen. A good
illustration is the tobacco crop in southern Maryland. In many ways,
it is a fine crop to grow, making an attractive, handsome appearance
in the field, pleasing to one's esthetic sense. Moreover, it has been
grown in this region from time immemorial. But for various reasons,
it can no longer compete successfiilly with tobaccos from some other
regions, and now brings but very little money. Nevertheless, the people
are accustomed to this crop, they like its cultivation, and consequently
it remains a staple, although it is very well known that the soils devoted
to it are much better adapted to certain other crops which would in-
dubitably yield a vastly greater money return.

Over the wider areas of our country this seems to be about the
spirit in which agricultural conditions are still viewed and met. Where
intensive agriculture is practised, as in the truck soils, or in the irri-
gated soils of the West, this is not the case, or not so frequently the
case, and can never be where intensive methods are practised, for it is
a necessary corollary of the high prices which lands under the intensive
system of cultivation command, that the crops for which they are best
adapted must be raised, or absolute failure inevitably follows. But
where the extensive methods of cultivation are practised, it is usually
possible to drift along on half crops or third crops, and still keep
matters going on a gradual decline until conditions are so bad that the
land is abandoned as barren, and pastures new are sought elsewhere.

While the soil may be best adapted to some particular crop or rota-
tion, other conditions enter, or may make it more desirable to substitute
a different crop or rotation not so well suited. For questions of trans-
portation, or supply and demand, and of available labor, inevitably
enter into the business management of every farmer, and thus the soil
is an economic factor in every community. In certain areas of Arizona,
for instance, the soils, climatic conditions and general features indicate
most strongly the advisability of raising fruits. But the transporta-
tion facilities up to the present have been so unsatisfactory that, it
has been impossible for the Arizona horticulturists, even with earlier
crops than California, to put their products on the Eastern markets
at such figures as to compete satisfactorily with those from the latter
state. Again a case comes to mind of a plantation in eastern North
Carolina, with an unusually fine crop of peanuts, covering about 400

548 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

acres, at a time when the market was in a remarkably satisfactory
condition. Yet this crop was a complete and disastrous failure because
the unreliable labor conditions existing in that locality prevented the
proprietor from securing more than a quarter of his crop, the greater
part of it remaining on the ground to rot or to be devoured by birds,
etc. Thus it is that the management of the soil, as in every other
practical policy in this world, must be largely a give-and-take matter,
or a question of double-entry bookkeeping, so to speak, and manifold
considerations are involved. Where one gains in one way, he loses in
another, and it is sound judgment or business sense which will de-
termine what is the best thing to be done in any given case to get the
most out of the soil under the conditions surrounding it.

Opportunities to get just sixch training as is necessary for the in-
telligent management of the soil are readily accessible in this country.
Agricultural colleges and other colleges not professedly so, but
giving courses in agriculture, both on the theoretical and on the
practical side, are numerous. The necessary expense of attending them
is certainly not great, and well within the means of a very large number
of the youth in the rural districts. But it is an astonishing fact that they
are not availed of, astonishing because to one of a philosophical or scien-
tific cast of mind, there are few, if any, fields more interesting, or better
adapted to the practical application of scientific methods than those
of agriculture, and especially of soil management. Yet in our so-called
schools of agriculture and mechanic arts it is indeed unusual when
the number of students, presumably farmers' sons, who graduate in
the mechanical arts as engineers, surveyors, etc., do not largely out-
number the students taking their degree in the strictly agricultural
courses. This is even more astonishing' when we reflect that there is
a demand, and a growing demand, in this country for skilled agricul-
turists to manage the estates either of rich individuals or of corpora-
tions, and the development of special crops for special industries. The
demand for men of this description is at the present time greater than
the supply, and such as have the proper training and qualifications can
conmiand salaries from $1,500 to $4,000 or $5,000 per year, possibly, in
exceptional cases, much more. A case could be cited, where a fine house
and grounds and $10,000 per year were offered to a certain expert to
take charge of a large plantation devoted mainly to the production of
a particular crop. These salaries are far above the average incomes
of young men in other branches of professional life. The life is in
other ways an attractive one; it requires more or less aptitude in
the qualifications of the student, for, as in every other branch of pro-
fessional life, the successful man is one that necessarily keeps up with
modern developments along his line ; but it must from the nature of the

THE SOIL AS AN ECONOMIC FACTOR. 549

case be largely an out-of-door life, and attractive to any one who has
the least spark of the love of nature in his soul.

It would unquestionably be a most interesting and fruitful line of
investigation for the sociologist to study the causes which are apparently
diverting men from this most attractive field of labor. There are some
popular conceptions upon this subject, we know. It is generally ad-
mitted that there is a tendency for men to congregate in the cities
or the to"WTis in preference to remaining in the country, and various
reasons are assigned for it. We hear much in this connection of the
gregarious instinct of man, but this is hardly a sufficient reason. For
the entire trend of modern scientific agriculture is towards intensive
cultivation, and the gregarious instinct should be sufficiently gratified
in populations where this method prevails. On the other hand, it is
sometimes held that the chances for development in a social sense are
greater in other professions or occupations, such as business life, and
these are having their effect upon the youth of the country. This may
be true to some extent, for it is as natural for man to prefer fine clothes
as it is for birds to prefer fine feathers, and the accepted garb of the
farmer is certainly not as attractive to mankind at large as the every-
day costume of the physician, clergyman or clerk. But that it can
be as potent as it is generally believed scarcely seems probable, unless
one is to accept the notion that the farming class, speaking in a broad
way, is no more intelligent than the class from which the average
servant girl of the city comes.

The opportunities for the development of special lines in agriculture
and soil management are certainly as great and should be as attractive
as in other professions. There is as great an opportunity for the de-
velopment of experts in sugar-beet-raising, apple-raising, rose-raising,
as for the development of specialists in eye, ear and throat treatment,
corporation law or criminal procedure, mechanical engineering or elec-
trical engineering, etc., and with this unusual knowledge and unusual
ability along specialized lines will come also the unusual pecuniary
emoluments that are found in other professions.

Many problems of a sociological or economic nature suggest them-
selves in this connection, and it is certainly not from lack of subjects
or material that the literature is nearly barren. But the object of this
paper is to call attention to this subject, rather than to discuss it,
which must be left for abler and better fitted pens. The development
of new countries, as influenced by the soils, such as in the case of
the westward movement from the tide-water regions of the Atlantic
slope, along the limestone belt of Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia,
Kentucky, Tennessee and Ohio; the differences which do, and must
of necessity, exist between communities practising intensive or ex-
tensive methods of cultivation; the land-rich and money-poor man,

550 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and lus status in the community; whether it is advisable in the general
interest of the state, to encourage the development of large or small
farms; whether the methods in vogue in some other industries, the
combinations of resources and capital sometimes developing into
'trusts' can be successfully adapted and applied to agricultural pur-
suits ; the building up of infant agricultural industries, by government
aid, or the extension of the principle of protection to agricultural pro-
ductions, and dependent industries ; whether, on the whole, it would be
better to make for a complete specialization, or whether it would be
more advisable for each farming community to raise its own necessities
— these are but some of the problems which are directly connected with
the soil and the soil management, and are also social and economic
questions. It therefore seems appropriate to those of us who are
interested in this study from the point of view of the natural sciences,
or applied science, as it is the fashion to call it now-a-days, to enter a
strong plea that our efPorts should be seconded by a more serious atten-
tion to this same subject from the professional economist and sociologist

THE DRAINING OF THE ZUIDER SEA. 551

THE DRAINING OF THE ZUIDER SEA.

By Professor J. H. GORE,

COLUMBIAN UNIVERSITY.

'/^ OD made the world, but the Dutch made Holland' is a saying
^^ quite common with people who visit the Netherlands; and as
one looks upon the great sea dykes that keep the North Sea from
sweeping over North Holland or the smaller dykes that hold the rivers
within their channels, it is easy to see that the retention of the land
created is possible only with great vigilance and care. Lakes have been
drained and their beds converted into arable land, useless bends have
been taken from the rivers and the ground, once covered by marshes,
has become fertile gardens. The map of Holland shows many changes,
not only in the coast line, but in the water covered areas within.

The draining of the Haarlem Lake was looked upon as a marvel
of engineering skill and patient industry, but the work here discussed is
far greater in magnitude and presents technical and economic diffi-
culties never before encountered.

A clause in the constitution of the United Netherlands permits the
organization of new provinces. However, when it was written, there
was in mind the possibility of rearranging the eleven provinces in such
a way as to enlarge the number. The acquisition of territory of any
considerable area was not thought of until 1848, when it was proposed
to drain the Zuider Sea, which, if accomplished, would add a province
somewhat larger than Zeeland.

In 1892, Queen Emma appointed a commission, consisting of the
Minister of Water Affairs and twenty-nine members to consider the
general question of converting this shallow inland sea into agricultural
lands. Two years later, a very elaborate report was submitted, in which
the problem was discussed from every conceivable standpoint. So
many questions were raised in this report and so much discussion was
provoked that it was not until last summer that the people generally
realized what the Commission actually proposed and how the work was
to be done. The air has been sufficiently cleared to enable one to assert
that while it is universally conceded to be possible to drain as much of
this sea as may be desired, there remains the feeling that while the
cost of this undertaking is certain, the benefits are by no means sure.

It is proposed to build a sea dyke from Ewijksluis in North Holland
over the island of Wieringen to the Frisian Coast near Piaam, a dis-

552 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tance of 24.8 miles, the cost $16,000,000 and to require nine years to
build.

This route was selected because it would be possible to construct the
locks in the solid ground of the island and, though not the shortest line
that could be selected, it would be in the shallowest water and so far
south that some of the streams flowing into the sea would have their
outlets outside of the district to be drained. Along the top of this dyke
it is intended to have a railroad, thereby shortening the distance by rail
from North Holland to Groningen by 35 miles — a matter of consider-
able importance in a country where no distances are great.

By shutting out the North Sea, the water left in the Zuider Sea
would be fresh, and it was feared that this change would cause the
death of the vegetation along the shores and that sickness would result
from its decay. But the freshening process would be so gradual that
there would be abundant opportunity for an adaptation of vegetation to
the changing conditions. The entire scheme contemplates a step-by-
step process. That is, after completing the sea dyke, so that the
inflow of water can be stopped and the outflow regulated by the use of
the sluice gates, it is proposed to surround in the northwest corner of
the imprisoned sea about 52,620 acres and from this pump out the
water. As fast as the land within this dyke should become free from
water it would be subdivided by ditches like the rest of Holland and
placed under cultivation at the earliest possible moment. It is believed
that this can be done in five years and that the cost would be about
$5,000,000.

The portion of the sea to be included in this, as well as in other
polders, the name given to drained areas, has been determined from
many thousand borings, and also from the desire to avoid stopping up
or diverting any of the larger streams that now empty into the sea.

After putting this polder in good shape, the southeast corner will
be dyked in and the water pumped out, yielding ultimately 249,000
acres. This will require ten years and the cost is estimated at $24,740,-
000. After this shall have been completed 77,800 acres will be enclosed
in the southwestern section of the sea. The work of converting this
into arable land will require four years, and cost $9,140,000. The last
section to be drained will be in the northeast, where $125,649 acres will
be added to the domain after five years' work at an estimated cost of
$14,000,000.

The polders have been selected so as to leave undisturbed every
important city now on the sea, and also to allow all the rivers to empty
into the part of the sea not included. The plan also contemplates the
deepening of the mouth of the Ysel, the broadening of the entrance to
Amsterdam, and the improving of the outlets of all the rivers now
emptying into the Zuider Sea, in this way bettering the condition of

THE DRAINING OF THE ZUIDER SEA. 553

all the harbors, placing the canals under better control and converting
the remnants of the sea into a body of fresh water, so that in case of
overflows the land will not be damaged as it is now.

By doing the work in this piecemeal fashion, covering thirty-three
years, only 24,000 acres will be added annually. This can be brought
under cultivation without causing any disturbance to agricultural
conditions in the country or affecting the markets of foodstuffs. Then
too, by the gradual draining of the sea the fishery interests will not be
suddenly imperilled, and persons now engaged in fishing will have time
to adjust themselves to the new conditions.

Heretofore the littoral rights have been the most difficult to adjust.
The people realized that many of the cities of Holland have been 'built
on herring bones,' that the fishing fleets were the schools in which so
many Dutchmen had learned the sailors' trade, and that it was on the
sea that Holland won her greatest victories of peace as well as of war.
The Commission, therefore, made a close study of this question. They
ascertained how much money is invested in the Zuider Sea fisheries,
how many men are employed, and what the annual catch amounts to.
They learned that the investment was less than had been surmised,
that many of the fishermen spent only a small part of the time fishing
and that acre for acre the egg sales in the Haarlem polder exceeded the
fish caught from the Zuider Sea. However, it is understood that some
must suffer in being obliged to change their mode of earning a liveli-
hood, and provision is made for lending assistance. All persons having
vessels large enough to engage in the North Sea fisheries are to be
exempt from harbor dues when returning with a catch; all men over
fifty-five years of age who are now devoting the greater part of their
time to fishing will receive a pension, and the smaller craft will be pur-
chased by the State.

When this new province becomes a part of the Union, it will be
divided into districts of the most approved size, with ground reserved
for schools, churches, cemeteries and town halls.

But it is not intended to sell the land thus acquired. The interest
on first cost and the maintenance is all that is asked of the occupants
who become perpetual lessees of the ground. This amounts to an
annual tax of about $7 per acre. The rentors are to erect their own
buildings and be subject to the usual rate of asssessment on all personal
property. Inasmuch as land in the Y polder rents for twenty dollars
per acre and some for even more, it is thought that the price here
expected can be easily obtained.

Dividing up the sea by polders and building a sea dyke across its
mouth will lessen the dangers from storms and overflows and diminish
the cost of maintenance of the long dyke that now fringes the entire
sea. By leaving open water between the polders where the deepest

554 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

water is now found, there will be no impeding of intercourse between the
larger cities that now enjoy boat communication.

One would expect to see the financial features well considered. The
Commission asks the State to pay annually $758,000 for 33 years, and
to raise this amount by the issue of Zuider Sea bonds of 100 florins
(about $40) each. These bonds to be sold in the open market or given
in exchange for deposits in the Postal Savings Bank. The bonds are to
yield 2.6 per cent, and be legal tender in payment for ground rent. No
one sees any difficulty in this plan of procuring the means. Dutch
credit is good and the State finances have been so well managed that
since 1850 the public debt has decreased by an amount in excess of what
is deemed necessary to carry out this great plan.

The plan is not only feasible from a financial as well as from a tech-
nical standpoint — it is almost a necessity to the State. At the present
time only 56 per cent, of the land is cultivated by the owners, and the
number of small farms — less than two acres, has increased at the rate
of 2,072 per year during the past ten years. The demand for land is
so great that rents are growing larger with the result that less surplus
food stuff is available, and the people are therefore affected by the
fluctuation in foreign markets. Then too the country is annually
losing 5,000 of the strongest inhabitants who are forced from home in
search of work.

In the immediate future a large proportion of these people could
find work in the draining operations and, as the lands become available,
the surplus population that must now seek homes in foreign lands,
could find land in their own country and that, too, close to Amsterdam,
its best market.

Holland has suffered more from storms on the inland waters and
inundations therefrom than from the seas that skirt her coasts. The
drying up of the Haarlem Lake removed one great source of danger and
loss, but immunity will not come until the Zuider Sea, which has been
a constant menace since 1440, yields her 787 square miles to the tillers
of the soil.

The Dutchman is especially fitted for work of this sort. He calmly
sits down, reckons up the cost of the undertaking, devises means and
appliances and then proceeds with the work without troubling himself
whether it will require one year or twenty. He does not expect to play
the part of Canute and command the waters to recede, but ever conscious
of the inroads that the sea has made upon Ms country, his work is
sweetened perhaps by a feeling of revenge that he will reconquer all
that has been lost and levy tribute for the 371 lives that were lost in
1885 by the breaking of some of the dykes.

The Government is willing to appropriate the requisite money just

THE DRAINING OF THE ZUIDER SEA. 555

as soon as the finances will permit and entrust the work to a contractor,
knowing that every one of the 1,250,000 piles needed for the sea dyke
alone will be put in place and that not a hundredweight of the 70,000
tons of basalt blocks will be missing. The Dutchman is so loyal and
feels so much national pride that no imperfect work is ever found in
Government contracts.

An idea of the magnitude of the work can be formed by glancing
at a few figures.

The sea dyke will be 34:.8 miles long, 114.5 feet across the top and
21.6 feet above high water; the river Ysel is to be carried out into the
sea a distance of 10.5 miles with a width of 948 feet; the entrance to
Amsterdam must be widened by two miles; dykes around the polders
will be necessary having an aggregate length of 198 miles with an
average height of 11.4 feet; in the Island of Wieringen, 30 locks will
be required, 33 feet wide and 16 feet deep; an encircling canal must be
constructed from Enkhuyzen to Uitdam, a distance of eight miles; the
sea dykes on the Frisian coast must be heightened at a cost of $240,000
and four pumping stations with an aggregate of 16,930 horse power
must be installed.

Though the undertaking is great, the entire commission agreed that
it should be done, and twenty-one out of the twenty-eight believed that
the State should be in control rather than to grant the concession to a
private party. When finished the State can issue another medal, like
the one minted to celebrate the draining of the Haarlem Lake to bear
the inscription:

"Zuider Zee, after having for centuries assailed the surrounding
fields, to enlarge itself by their destruction, conquered at last by the
force of machinery, has returned to Holland its invaded land." And
the historian of the work will close his account of the material gain
to the State by saying: "But this is not all; we have driven forever
from the bosom of our country a most dangerous enemy ; we have at the
same time augmented the means for defending our capital in time of
war. We have conquered a province in a combat without tears and
without blood, where science and genius took the place of generals, and
where polder workmen were the worthy soldiers. Persevering to sur-
mount the obstacles of nature, and those created by man, the country
has accomplished, to its great honor and glory, one of the grandest
enterprises of the age."

5 56 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE EVOLUTION OF FISHES.

By President DAVID STARR JORDAN,

LELAND STANFORD JUNIOR UNIVERSITY.

WHEN a fish dies he leaves no friends. His body is at once at-
tacked by hundreds of creatures ranging from the one-celled
protozoa and bacteria to individuals of his own species. His flesh is de-
voured, his bones are scattered, the gelatinous substance in them decays,
and the phosphate of lime is in time dissolved in the water. For
this reason few fishes of the millions who die each year leave any
trace for future preservation. At the most, a few teeth, a fin spine or
a bone buried in the clay might remain intact or in such condition as to
be recognized.

But now and then it happens that a dead fish may fall in more fortu-
nate conditions. On a sea bottom of fine clay the bones, or even the
whole body, might be buried in such a way as to be sealed up and pro-
tected from total decomposition. The flesh would in any case disappear
and leave no mark or at the most a mere cast of its surface. But the
hard parts might persist, and now and then they do persist, the lime
unchanged or else silicified or subjected to some other form of chemical
substitution. Only the scales, the teeth, the bones, the spines and the
fin rays can be preserved in the rocks of sea or lake bottom. In a few
localities, as Green Eiver in Wyoming, Monte Bolca in Tuscany and
Mount Lebanon in Syria, with certain quarries in Scotland and litho-
graphic stones in Germany, many skeletons of fishes have been found,
pressed flat in layers of very fine rock, their structures traced as deli-
cately as if actually drawn on the smooth stone. Fragments preserved
in ruder fashion abound in the clays and even the sandstones of the
earliest geologic ages. In most cases, however, fossil fishes are Imown
from detached and scattered fragments, many of them, especially of the
sharks, by the teeth alone. Fishes have occurred in all ages from the
Silurian to the present time and no doubt the very first lived long
before the Silurian.

No one can say what the earliest fishes were like, nor do we know
what was their real relation to the worm-like forms among which men
have sought their presumable ancestors, nor to the Tunicates and other
chordate forms, not fish-like, but still degenerate relatives of the
primeval fish.

From analogy we may suppose that the first fishes which ever were
bore some resemblance to the lancelet, for that is a fish-like creature
with every structure reduced to the lowest terms. But as the lancelet

THE EVOLUTION OF FISHES. 557

has no hard parts, no bones, nor teeth, nor scales, nor fins, no traces
of its kind are found among the fossils. If the primitive lish was like
it in important respects, all record of this has necessarily vanished from
the earth.

The next group of living fishes, the Cyclostomes, including the hag-
fishes and lampreys, — fishes with small skull and brain but without
limbs or jaws, — stands at a great distance above the lancelet in com-
plexity of structure, and equally far from the true fishes in its primitive
simplicity. In fact the lamprey is farther from the true fish in struc-
ture than a perch is frcon an eagle. Yet for all that it may be an
offshoot from the primitive line of fish-descent. There is not much in
the structure of the lamprey which may be preserved in the rocks. But
the cartilaginous skull, the backbone, fins and teeth may sometimes
leave their traces in soft clay or lithographic stone. These parts are
actually represented in a fossil form bearing some likeness to a lam-
prey found in the Devonian of Scotland known as Falceospondylus.
This early form was a highly specialized one with well-defined verte-
brae, a fact which shows that the group had reached a relatively high
development even in these early times. The few existing Cyclostomes
may even be looked upon as degraded types as compared with their
Devonian ancestors.

Besides the lampreys the Devonian seas swarmed with mysterious
creatures covered with a coat of mail, fish-like in some regards, but
limbless, without true jaws and having next to nothing in common
with the fishes of to-day. These are called Ostracophori, and most
recent authorities, as Woodward and Dean, are inclined to regard them
as highly modified or specialized lampreys, a side offshoot which has
left no descendants among recent forms. Cope has compared these
Ostracoderms to the larva of Tunicates, and Patten has suggested their
affinity to spiders, or rather to the horseshoe crab (Liniulits), which
is at least as much spider as crab. The weight of evidence would rather
place them nearest the lampreys, but certainly not in the same natural
class.

Among these forms in coat of mail are some in which the jointed
and movable angles of the head suggest the pectoral spines of some cat-
fishes. But in spite of its resemblance to a fin, the spine of the pectoral
fin in Pterichthys is an outgrowth of the ossified skin and has no more
homology with the spines of fishes than the mailed plates have with
the bones of a fish's cranium. In none of these fishes has any trace
of an internal skeleton been found. It must have retained its primitive
gelatinous character. There are, however, some traces of eyes, and
the mucous channels of the lateral line indicate that these creatures
possessed some other special senses.

Whatever the Ostracophores may be, they are not true fishes and
they should not be included within the much-abused term Ganoidei,

558 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a word once used in the widest fashion for all sorts of mailed fishes,
but little by little restricted to the hard-scaled relatives and ancestors
of the gar-pike of to-day.

Dimly seen in the vast darkness of Paleozoic time are the huge
figures known as Arthrognaths. These are mailed and helmeted fishes,
limbless so far as we know, but with sharp, notched, turtle-like jaws
quite different from those of the fish or those of any animal alive to-day.
These creatures appear in Silurian rocks and are especially abundant
in the fossil beds of Ohio, where Newberry, Claypole, Eastman and
Dean have patiently studied the broken fragments of their armor.
Most of them have a great casque on the head with a shield at
the neck and a movable joint connecting the two. Among them was
almost every variation in size and form.

These creatures have been often called ganoids, but with the true
ganoids like the gar-pike they have seemingly nothing in common.
They are very different from the Ostracophores. To regard them as
derived from ancestral Dipnoi is to give a possible guess as to their
origin and a very unsatisfactory guess at that. But they have all
passed away in competition with the scaly fishes and sharks of later
evolution, and it seems certain that they, like the mailed Ostracophores,
have left no descendants.

Next after the lampreys, but a long way after in structure as in
time, come the sharks. With the sharks appear for the first time true
limbs and the lower jaw. The upper jaw is still formed from the palate,
and the shoulder girdle is attached behind the skull. "Little is known,"
says Professor Dean, "of the primitive stem of the sharks and even the
lines of descent of the different members of the group can only be
generally suggested. The development of recent forms has yielded few
results of undoubted value to the phylogenist. It would appear is if
paleontology alone could solve the puzzles of their descent."

Of the very earliest sharks in the Upper Silurian age the remains
are too scanty to prove much save that there were sharks in abundance
and variety. Spines, teeth, fragments of shagreen, show that in some
regards these forms were highly specialized. In the Carboniferous age,
according to Dean, 'there occurred the culminating point of their differ-
entiation when specialized sharks existed, whose varied structures are
paralleled only by those of the existing bony fishes, — sharks fitted to
the most special environment, some minute and delicate, others enor-
mous, heavy and sluggish, with stout head and fin spines and elaborate
types of dentition.'

The sharks are, however, doubtless evolved from the still more
primitive shark without limbs and with the teeth slowly formed from
modification of the ordinary shagreen prickles. In determining the
earliest among the several primitive types of shark we are stopped by

THE EVOLUTION OF FISHES. 559

an undetermined question of theory. What is the origin of paired
limbs ? Are these formed, like the unpaired fins, from the breaking up
of a continuous fold of skin, in accordance with the view of Balfour
and others? Or is the primitive limb, as supposed by Gegenbaur, a
modification of the bony gill-arch? Or again, as supposed by Kerr, is
it a modification of the hard axis of an external gill?

If we adopt the views of Gegenbaur or Kerr, the earliest type of
limb is the jointed archipterygium, a series of consecutive rounded
cartilagenous elements with a fringe of rays along its length. Sharks
possessing this form of limb (Ichthyotomi) appear in the earliest
rocks, and from these the Dipnoi, on the one hand, may be descended
and, on the other, the true sharks and the Chimseras.

On the other hand, if we regard the paired fins as parts of a lateral
fold of skin, we find primitive sharks to bear out our conclusions. In
Cladoselaclie of the Subcarboniferous, the pectoral and the ventral fins
are long and low, and arranged just as they might be if Balfour's theory
were true. Acantlioessus, with a spine in each paired fin and no other
rays, might be a specialization of this type or fin, and Climatius with
rows of spines in place of pectorals and ventrals might be held to bear
out the same idea. But in all these, the tail is less primitive than in
the Ichthyotomi. On the whole, however, there is much to be said on
the primitive nature of the Ichthyotomi, and Pleur acanthus, with the
tapering tail and jointed pectoral fin of a dipnoan, with other traits of
a shark, is as likely as Cladoselache to point directly to the origin of
the shark-like forms.

Hasse finds this origin in a hypothetical group of Polyospondyli
which have many vertebra undifferentiated and without calcareous
material. These fishes are represented only by fin spines (Otichus),
which may have belonged to something else. These gave rise to
Ichthyotomi, with jointed fins, and through these to Dipnoi and a long
series leading to the bony fishes on the one hand and on the other to the
Amphibia, Eeptiles and Higher Vertebrates.

The branch of higher sharks would lead to the Diplospondyli of
Hasse's system, of which Cladoselache should be a primitive example.
These sharks have the weakly ossified vertebrae joined together in pairs
and there are six or seven gill openings. This primitive type called
Notidani has persisted to our day, the frilled shark (Chlamydoselachus)
and the genera Hexanchus and Heptranchias, still showing its archaic
characters.

Here the sharks diverge into two groups, the one with the vertebrae
better developed and its calcareous matter arranged star fashion. This
forms Hasse's group of Asterospondyli, the typical sharks. The earliest
forms (Heterodontidse, Hybodontidae) approach the Notidani, and one
such ancient type Heterodontus, still persists. The others diverge to

56o POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

form the three chief groups of cat-sharks (ScyliorJmius, etc.), mackerel-
sharks (Lamna, etc.) and iron-sharks {Carcharhias, etc.).

In the other group the vertebrae have their calcareous matter ar-
ranged in rings, one or more about the notochordal center. In all these
the anal fin is absent, and in the process of specialization, is formed
the flattened body and broad fins of the ray. This group is called
Tectospondyli. Hasse's Cyclospondyli (sharks with one ring of cal-
careous matter) constitute the most primitive extreme of a group rep-
resenting continuous evolution.

From Cladoselache and Clilamydoselachus through the sharks to the
rays we have an almost continuous series which reaches its highest
development in the devil rays or mantas of the tropical seas, Manta
and Mohula being the most specialized genera and among the very
largest of the fishes. However difEerent the rays and skates may appear
in form and habit, they are structurally similar to the sharks and have
sprung from the main shark stem.

The most ancient offshoot from the shark stem, perhaps dating
before Silurian times and having its root in ancient Ichthyotomi, is
the group of Holocephali or cliimgeras, shark-like in essentials, but dif-
fering widely in details. Of these there are but few living forms, and
the fossil types are known only from dental plates and fin spines.
The living forms are found in the deeper seas, the world over, the
most primitive genus being the newly discovered RhinocJiimwra. The
fusion of the teeth into overlapping plates, the covering of the gills
by a dermal flap, the complete union of the palatoquadrate apparatus
or upper jaw with the skull and the development of a peculiar clasping
spine on the forehead of the male are characteristic of the chimseras.
The group is one of the most ancient, but with the chimaeras it ends,
for the species has nothing in common with modern fishes except what
both have derived from their common ancestors the sharks.

The most important offshoot of the primitive sharks is not the
chamaeras, nor even the shark series itself, but the group of dipnoans or
lung-fishes and the long chain of their descendants. With the dipnoan
appears the lung or air-bladder, at first an outgrowth from the ventral
side of the oesophagus, as it still is in all higher animals, but later
turning over, among fishes, and springing from the dorsal side. At
first an arrangement for breathing air, a sort of accessory gill — it
becomes the sole organ of respiration in the higher forms, while in the
bony fishes its respiratory function is lost altogether. The air-bladder
is a degenerate gill. In the dipnoans the shoulder girdle moves for-
ward to the skull, and the pectoral limb, a jointed and fringed
archipterygium, apparently derived from ancestors of the type of
Pleuracanthus is its characteristic appendage. The shark-like struc-
ture of the mouth remains.

TEE EVOLUTION OF FISHES. 561

The few living lung fishes resemble the salamanders almost as
closely as they do fishes, and they may well be ranged as a class by
themselves midway between the primitive sharks and the amphibians.
The few living forms show these intermediate characters in the develop-
ment of lungs and the primitive character of the pectoral and ventral
limbs. Those now extant give but little idea of the great variety of
extinct dipnoans, but the obvious suggestion that with the lung fish
is the place of divergence of the higher vertebrates from the fish series
may be the correct one. The living genera are three in number, Neo-
ceratodus in Australian rivers, Lepidosiren in the Amazon and Protop-
terus in the Nile. These are all mud fishes, some of them living
through most of the dry season encased in a cocoon of dried mud. Of
these forms Neoceratodus is certainly the nearest to the ancient forms,
but its embryology, owing to the shortening of its growth stages due
to its environment, has thrown little light on the question of its
ancestry.

From some branch of the dipnoans the ancestry of the amphibians
and through them that of the reptiles, birds and mammals may be
traced, although some reason exists for regarding the primitive Crossop-
terygium as the point of divergence. It may be that the Crossoptery-
gian gave rise to Amphibian and Dipnoan alike.

In the process of development we next reach the characteristic fish
mouth in which the upper jaw is formed of maxillary and premaxillary
elements distinct from the skull. The upper jaw of the shark is part of
the palate, the palate being fused with the quadrate bone which sup-
ports the lower jaw. That of the dipnoan is much the same. The
development of a typical fish mouth is the next step in evolution and
with its appearance we note the decline of the air-bladder in size and
function.

The next great offshoot is the group of crossopterygians, fishes which

still retain the old-fashioned t}^e of pectoral and ventral fin, the
archipter3'gium. In the archaic tail, enameled scales and cartilaginous
skeleton the crossopterj'gian shows its affinity with its dipnoan ancestry.
Thus these fishes unite in themselves traits of the shark, lung-fish and
Ganoid. The few living crossopterygians, Polypteriis, and Erpe-
toichthys are not very different from those which prevailed in Devo-
nian times. The larvae possess external gills with firm base and fringe-
like rays, suggesting a resemblance to the pectoral fin itself which
develops from the shoulder-girdle just below it and would seem to give
some force to Kerr's contention that the archipterygium is only a
modified external gill. In Polypterus the archipterygium has become
short and fan-shaped, its axis made of two diverging bones with flat
cartilage between. From this type it is thought that the arm of the

higher forms has been developed. The bony basis may be the humerus,
VOL. I.X.- 36.

S62 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

from which diverge radius and ulna, tlie carpal bones being formed
of the intervening cartilage.

From the crossopterygians springs the main branch of true fishes,
known collectively as Actinopteri, those with ordinary rays on the paired
fins instead of the jointed archipterygium. The transitional series of
primitive Actinopteri is here called by the name of Ganoid. The
ganoid differs from the Crossopterygian in having basal elements of the
paired fins small and concealed within the flesh. But other associated
characters of the Crossopterygii and Dipnoi are preserved in most of
the species. Among these are the mailed head and body, the hetero-
cercal tail, the cellular air-bladder, the presence of valves in the arterial
bulb, the presence of a spiral valve in the intestine and of a chiasma
in the optic nerves. All these characters are found in the earlier types
so far as known, and all are more or less completely lost or altered
in the teleosts or bony fishes. Among the existing ganoids the gar-pike
(Lepisosteus) is the last of a long series of Mesozoic forms of the same
general structure. The gar-pikes are cylindrical or arrow-shaped.
Among these early types is every variety of form, some of them being
almost as long as deep, and every intermediate form being represented.
An offshoot from this line is the bow-fin (Amia calva), perhaps the
closest living ally of the bony fishes, showing distinct affinities with the
great group to which the herring and salmon belong. Near relatives of
the bow-fin fiourished in the Mesozoic, among them some with a forked
tail, and some with a very long one. From forms of this type the body
of recent fishes may be descended.

Another branch of ganoids, widely divergent from both gar-fish and
bow-fin and not recently from the same primitive stock, included the
sturgeons {Acipenser, Scapliirliynchus, Kessleria) and the paddle-fishes
(Polyodon and Psephurus). These differ widely from any other types,
recent or fossil, showing features of degeneration as compared with
their extinct ancestors, while again sturgeon and paddlefish differ widely
from, each other. It has been suggested that the cat-fishes (Siluridae)
are descended from the sturgeons, but the resemblance vanishes the
more closely the groups are compared, nor are we anywhere sure of the
point where any part of the teleost series is Joined to the ganoids. We
can only say that the sturgeons are more or less degraded ganoids with
cartilaginous skeletons, of unknown derivation and of unsettled rela-
tionships.

All other fishes have ossified instead of cartilaginous skeletons. The
dipnoan and ganoid traits one by one are more or less completely lost.
Through these the main line of fish development continues and the
various groups are known collectively as bony fishes or teleosts.

The earliest of the true bony fishes or teleosts appear in Mesozoic
times, the most primitive forms being soft-rayed fishes with unmodi-

THE EVOLUTION OF FISHES. 563

fied vertebrae, allied more or less remotely to the herring of to-day. In
these and other soft-rayed fishes the pelvis still retains its posterior
insertion, the ventral fins being said to be abdominal. The next great
stage in evolution brings the pelvis forward, attaching it to the shoulder
girdle so that the ventral fins are now thoracic as in the perch and bass.
If brought to a point in front of the pectoral fins, a feature of specialized
degradation, they become jugular as in the cod-fish. In the abdominal
fishes the air bladder still retains its rudimentary duct joining it to the
oesophagus.

From the abdominal forms allied to the herring, the huge array of
modern fishes, typified by the perch, the bass, the mackerel, the wrasse,
the globe-fish, the sculpin, the seahorse and the cod descended in many
diverging lines. The earliest of the spine-rayed fishes with thoracic fins
belong to the type of Berycidse, a group characterized by rough scales
and the retention of the primitive larger number of ventral rays. These
appear in the Cretaceous or chalk deposits, and show various attributes
of transition from the abdominal to the thoracic type of ventrals.

Another line of descent apparently distinct from that of the herring
and salmon extends through the characins to the loach, carps, cat-fishes
and electric eel. The fishes of this series have the anterior vertebrae
coossified and modified in connection with the hearing organ, a struc-
ture not appearing elsewhere among fishes. This group includes the
majority of fresh-water fishes. Still another great group, the eels, have
lost the ventral fins and the bones of the head have suffered much
degradation.

The most highly developed fishes, all things considered, are doubt-
less the allies of the perch, bass and sculpin. These fishes have lost the
air-duct and on the whole they show the greatest development of the
greatest number of structures. But they do not represent an excessive
degree of specialization. In other groups their traits one after another
are carried to an extreme and these stages of extreme specialization give
way one after another to phases of degeneration. The specialization
of one organ usually involves degeneration of some other. Extreme
specialization of any organ tends to render it useless under other con-
ditions and may be one step toward its final degradation.

"We have thus seen, in hasty review, that the fish-like vertebrates
spring from an unknown and possibly worm-like stock, — that from
this stock, before it became vertebrate, degenerate branches have fallen
off, represented to-day by the Tunicates and Balanoglossus. We have
seen that the primitive vertebrate was headless and limbless without
hard parts. The lancelet remains as a possible direct off-shoot from it;
the cyclostome with brain and skull is a probable derivative from archaic
lancelets. The earliest fishes leaving traces in the rocks were doubtless
cyclostomes, limbless, naked lampreys and mailed ostracophores. The

564 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lampreys gave rise to sharks and chimaBras. The sharks developed
into rays in one right line, and into the highest sharks along another;
while by a side branch through lost stages the primitive sharks passed
into dipnoans or lung-fishes. All these types and others abound in the
Devonian age and the early records were lost in the Silurian. From the
lung-fishes or the ancestors or descendants by the specialization of the
lung and limbs, the land animals, at first amphibians, after these rep-
tiles, birds and mammals, arose.

In the sea, by a line still more direct, through the gradual emphasis
of fish-like characters, we find developed the crossopterygians with
archaic limbs and after these the ganoids with fish-like limbs but other-
wise archaic ; then the soft-rayed and finally the spiny-rayed bony fishes
which culminate in specialized and often degraded types, as the anglers,
globe-fishes, parrot-fishes and flying gurnards. Side branches are the
ostracophores, perhaps from primitive lampreys; arthrognaths from a
lost ancestry possibly ; chimseras, from primitive sharks, and rays from
sharks less primitive; dipnoan sturgeons, gar-pikes and perhaps carp
and cat-fishes; and from each of the ultimate lines of descent radiate
infinite branches till the sea and rivers are filled, and almost every body
of water has fishes fitted to its environment.

SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE.

565

SCIENTIFIC LITEEATUEE.

BIOGRAPHIES OF EMINENT
CHEMISTS.

The literature of chemistry has
recently been enriched by several biog-
raphies of chemists and by carefully
edited works reproducing the letters
that passed between certain chemists;
the importance and value of these vol-
umes is enhanced by the reflection that
the history of the lives of the leading
men in a growing science constitutes
the most complete history of the sci-
ence in that period during which they
labored, and their lives and labors are
rellected in their letters. These notions
are appreciated by most of the editors
of tlie correspondence we have in mind,
and they make their tasks of double
value by introducing numerous biblio-
graphic and explanatory notes.

No student of the progress of chem-
istry in France during the second
quarter of the century just closed can
acquire a full and correct knowledge of
the subject without a perusal of the
life of Charles Gerhardt, edited by his
son (bearing the same name), and by
Edouard Grimaux (Paris, 1900). In
his short life of only forty years, Ger-
hardt introduced ideas into chemistry
that were at first thought to be revolu-
tionary, but were eventually adopted
even by his adversaries; his services to
organic chemistry were of the highest
importance; he first doubled the atomic
weights of carbon, oxygen and sulfur,
divided acids according to their
basicity, and completely established the
individuality of the equivalent, the
atom and the molecule.

Of a very different type was his con-
temporary living across the Rhine,
Schonbein, whose life has been sym-
pathetically written by his successor in
the University chair. Dr. Geo. W. A.

Kahlbaum (Leipzig, 1899-1901,2 vols.).
The painstaking, indefatigable dis-
coverer of ozone, of gun-cotton, of col-
lodion, and of the passive state of
iron, forms a strong contrast to the
brilliant, keen-sighted investigator in
organic chemistry, Gerhardt. Schon-
bein's busy yet uneventful life reaped
but a paltry reward for a discovery
that subsequently brought the Swe-
dish manufacturer a colossal fortune;
but none knew better than Schonbein
that the reward sought by the investi-
gator in the chemical laboratory is
success in wresting from nature her
hidden truths.

Schonbein was a voluminous writer
of letters; Dr. Kahlbaum made a col-
lection of over 1,600, besides 350 printed
papers, and analyzed them carefully in
compiling the volumes named. One of
his most regular and valued corre-
spondents was Faraday, and the letters
interchanged with him have been pub-
lished in another volume edited by Dr.
Kahlbaum and Francis V. Darbishire
(Basle and London, 1899). These let-
ters number 155 and cover the period
from 1836 to 1862, beginning with a
letter from Schonbein announcing the
peculiar behavior of iron in nitric acid
of a certain strength, and ending with
a brief note from Faraday that pain-
fully discloses his mental distress. The
first mention of a ' phosphorus smell
developed by electricity ' occurs in a
letter to Faraday dated April 4, 1840,
and the exciting cause of this odor
occupies some part of nearly every let-
ter to Faraday during the succeeding
twenty-two years.

Dr. Kahlbaum, with others, has pub-
lished ' Twenty Letters,' exchanged by
Schonbein and Berzelius in the years
1836 to 1847 (Basle, 1898), and the

566

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

same in an English dress (London,
1900), also the 'Letters of Schonbein
and Liebig, 1853-1869 ' (Leipzig, 1898),
so that the correspondence of Schon-
bein is largely accessible to students
seeking details.

These several volumes of correspond-
ence suggest others that are analogous.
The ' Letters of Berzelius and Liebig,
1831 to 1845,' edited by Justus Carrifere
with the cooperation of the Bavarian
Academy of Sciences (Munich, 1893),
and the correspondence between Berzel-
ius and Wohler, published by the Royal
Academy of Gottingen, and edited by
0. Wallach (Leipzig, 1901, 2 vols.).

And to complete this series of letters
that passed between eminent chemists
there remains the ' Correspondence of
Liebig and Wohler,' edited by A. W. von
Hofmann, and Emilie Wohler (Braun-
schweig, 1888, 2 vols). These cover
the long period from 1829 to 1883. The
inter-relations of these six works with
the dates of the correspondence and of
the death of each chemist, may be
graphically shown by a diagram.

t
ft

1 !SSZ

The perusal of letters between inti-
mate friends having mutual interests
in kindred studies is much like listen-
ing to conversation carried on between
them; they reveal their daily life,
domestic happiness and difficulties.

their likes and dislikes, their humor
and their satire, their successes and
failures in research, and their ambi-
tions and discouragements. They also
disclose their weaknesses and perhaps
their foibles, and they unconsciously
divulge the greatness of their intellects,
all in simple language, not written to
produce startling effects nor to ex-
aggerate their own importance in the
minds of readers.

All these volumes are illustrated by
one or more portraits, and some of
them contain facsimiles of manuscripts.

MOSQUITOES.
A Monograph of the ' Culicidse or
Mosquitoes of the World ' has just been
prepared by Mr. Fred. V. Theobald,
and is published by the British Museum
as one of its regular series. There are
two volumes of text aggregating 835
pages and one volume of plates, num-
bering 37 and containing 148 colored
figures of adults. Then there are 5
plates, each containing six solar prints
of microphotographs illustrating wing
scales. In the text are 318 woodcuts,
half-tones or similar figures. In these
books 258 species of mosquitoes, divided
among 22 genera, are described, and 37
species in 10 genera are credited to
North America. Although the work
is just off the press it is already out of
date, and in the introductory remarks
by the director of the musevim, dated No-
vember, 1901, a supplementary volume
is promised. All these facts indicate
the remarkable interest that has been
of late universally aroused in the sub-
ject, and the enormous collections that
have been and are now being made in
all parts of the world. In the United
States several new species were recog-
nized and described in 1901, two of
them from New Jersey. The life his-
tory of several species has been made
out, and good structural characters for
their separation appear as the result of
American study. Mr. Theobald de-
scribes 136 new species; almost as
many as were described in all previous

SCIENTIFIC LITERATURE.

567

times, and he indicates the possession
of something like 50 additional forms.

Almost 100 pages are devoted to the
peculiarities of mosquitoes in all ^
stages, and to the methods to be era- !
ployed in studying them. The mouth :
structures are explained in the con-
ventional way and the matter of food
is gone into somewhat in detail. Of
course comparatively few mosquitoes
ever get a meal of blood, and yet it
would seem that for some species such
a meal is an essential preliminary to
reproduction. All sorts of vertebrates
may be attacked, even fish and reptilia,
and invertebrates seem almost as sus-
ceptible. The males, being unable to
puncture either animal or vegetable
tissue, are confined to a diet of pre-
pared liquids — nectar and the like —
but do not despise others, like beer and
wine, when they can get them.

To mosquitoes as disease carriers
only a few pages are devoted; the
author referring to such writings as
Eoss's, Grassi's, Nuttall's and others.
He specifically discusses ' Malaria,'
filariasis and yellow fever, though
adding nothing from personal observa-
tion. Birds and probably some animals
suffer from diseases carried by these
insects and usually only one, or a small
group of species, acts in the transmis-
sion. Thus the species of Anopheles, in
America at least, is responsible for the
distribution of malarial troubles, while
Siegomyia appears to do as much for
yellow fever.

Mr. Theobald emphasizes the char-
acter of the scales on certain por-
tions of the head, wing and body,
which assists in separating species.
This brings into play the microscope
and, practically, that instrument must
be resorted to for final determinations
in some instances.

It is altogether a very interesting

and useful book to the entomologist
who wishes to learn what has been
done in this family and who has dono
it. The plates are too highly colored
and the figures are, therefore, mislead-
ing. The text figures, illustrating
structural details, are as a whole only
fair, though the point to be illustrated
is always well brought out. The book
maker's work is well done, and so is the
printer's, while a good index adds
materially to the facility with which
the book may be used by the reader.

MECHANICS.

An 'Elementary Treatise on Theoret-
ical Mechanics' by Professor W. Wool-
sey Johnson (Wiley and Sons, New
York) is far from elementary, as the
reader is supposed to have a good
knowledge of differential and integral
calculus. The laws of nature are, how-
ever, quite independent of any system
of mathematics, and many of those dis-
cussed in this volume might be easily
treated by elementary algebra and
geometry. There can be no objection
to the use of the calculus if its demon-
strations are simpler than those of com-
mon methods, but the combination of
difficult mathematics with difficult sub-
ject-matter should be avoided in an
elementary text-book. The plan of the
book is that usual in this subject, forces
being discussed at much length, in con-
nection with the time-rate of space or
velocity, before the subject of work or
energy is taken up. This plan follows
the historical line of development, but
it is questionable whether it is the best
method for the student or for getting
at practical solutions. The book con-
tains no unsound doctrine, is concisely
written in a scholarly tone, and is an
able presentation of the subject imder
the plan adopted.

568

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE PEOGEESS OF SCIENCE.

THE JOHNS HOP KIN 8 UNIVER-
SITY.
On February 21 and 22 the Johns
Hopkins University celebrated tlie
twenty-fifth anniversary of its found-
ing and the installation of its second
president. In Europe, where the life
of a university is measured by centu-
ries, it may be looked on as a sign of
crudeness for us to celebrate the tenth
or the twenty-fifth anniversary of the
establishment of a university. It is,
however, a notable fact that universi-
ties such as the Johns Hopkins or
Chicago should have surpassed so
quickly most of the great European
institutions not only in size and
wealth, but also in their real contribu-
tions to higher education and the ad-
vancement of knowledge. The Johns
Hopkins University will always occupy
an important place in the history of
the American university. The oppor-
tunity given by an endowment unham-
pered by restrictions or precedents
was fully grasped by President Gil-
man. He called together a small group
of professors — Sylvester, Rowland,
Remsen and Martin in the sciences —
unequaled as leaders in research. By
the establishment of a system of fel-
lowships, a group of students was
gathered together who have since rep-
resented the most advanced work of the
country. In the erection of cheap
buildings equipped with expensive
apparatus, in the creation of working
seminar libraries in place of a museum
of books, in the establishment of scien-
tific journals and in other ways, the
university set an excellent example.
But its chief claim to our honor is the
supreme place it gave to advanced work
and investigation by both teachers and
students. In the recent establishment
of a medical school the same methods

have been followed, and the university
has again led in a great forward move-
ment.

On the first day of the exercises at
Baltimore, Dr. D. C. Oilman, who
guided the university during its
twenty-five years and has now under-
taken an equally important office in the
presidency of the Carnegie Institution,
gave a commemoration address. On
the second day. Dr. Ira Remsen, who
has been professor of chemistry since
the opening of the university, was
formally installed as president, and
gave the inaugural address. Both ad-
dresses were of great interest not only
to those who have been connected with
the university, but also to all who are
interested in higher education. The
addresses will be found in the issue of
Science for February 28, and will
doubtless be published by the Univer-
sity. In addition to these two ad-
dresses, there was a reception, a lun-
cheon at the hospital, a dinner by the
alumni and other events. Degrees
were conferred on a number of univer-
sity presidents and others. Of the six
to whom the doctorate of laws was
awarded, on the ground of their asso-
ciation in carrying on the work of the
imiversity, five are men of science — Dr.
J. S. Billings, Dr. G. Stanley Hall,
Professor J. W. Mallet, Dr. C. D. Wal-
cott and Professor Simon Newcomb.
The same degree was given to four
alumni, including Professor Josiah
Royce and Professor E. B. Wilson.

THE NATIONAL MUSEUM.
It is to be hoped that the urgent
recommendation for the enlargement
of the U. S. National Museum made to
congress by Secretary Langley will re-
ceive consideration. The present build-
ing is truly a scandal. Specimens of

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

569

great value are exhibited — most of
them are as a matter of fact stored out
of view — in inflammable sheds. The
secretary makes a comparison with the
American Museum of Natural History
in New York City, which shows that
while the nimiber of specimens in the
National Museum is more than double
the number in the American Museum,
the space of the American Museum is
ten times as great as that of the Na-
tional Museum, and the cost of the
buildings was also ten times as great.
If New York City spends $4,000,000 on
its museum buildings, it seems strange
that the general government can not
do at least as much. Our national
government has been extremely liberal
in its appropriation for scientific pur-
poses, surpassing in this respect other
governments, but for some reason —
probably by mere accident — -the mu-
seum has been neglected. Washington
is becoming a scientific center, rivaling
London, Paris and Berlin, but com-
pared with the museums maintained in
these cities by the government our
national museum is not creditable.
The collections though large are not
systematic, having resulted from ex-
peditions, gifts and the like, while no
appropriations have been available to
fill in the gaps which always arise
when collections are formed by such
methods. The curators do not receive
adequate salaries; indeed, of the
twenty-one curators, twelve serve with-
out any salary at all, and the average
salary of the others is only about $2,-
500. The keepers of the British Mu-
seum of Natural History receive
salaries of $4,000. It should be only
necessary to point out these matters to
congress in order that appropriations
may be made for the National Museum
commensurate with those of foreisTi
governments. The difficulty is that
there are no members of congress who
are scientific men, or who are primarily
interested in science, such as are to be
found in all foreign legislatures, and
there is consequently no one who will

present to congress the consensus of
opinion of scientific men.

A NEW BRITISH ACADEMY.
National Academies had more im-
portant functions in the past than they
have now. Still the honor of being
officially recognized as one of a small
body of eminent men may be a stimulus
to scientific work, and academies may
be among the best existing means of
forwarding international relations.
Neither in the United States nor in
Great Britain has an academy of let-
ters arisen. It seems, however, that a
British Academy for the promotion of
historical, philological and philosoph-
ical studies will soon be established by
royal charter. The question of such
an academy has been discussed in Eng-
land since the organization in 1899 of
the International Association of Acad-
emies. Literary as well as scientific
academies are part of this association,
and Great Britain can only be repre-
sented by the Royal Society. The
International Association will hold its
next meeting in London in 1904, and
the lack of representation of historical
and literary studies would thus be
emphasized. The question arose as to
whether the Royal Society might be en-
larged to include students of history,
economics, philology, etc., as was
apparently intended by the original
charter of King Charles II. Many
members of the Society favored the
plan, but it was rejected by the council.
It is probable that the leading English
students of the humanities from the
scientific side will be permitted to
organize themselves into an academy,
and that there will hereafter be in
Great Britain a new Royal Academy as
well as a Royal Society. The National
Academy of Sciences was intended to
include students of economics, phi-
lology and similar sciences, but the few
representatives of these sciences have
died and no successors have been
elected. It seems likely that, unless the
National Academy decides to give

57°

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

recognition to sciences other than those
commonly called natural and exact, the
conditions that prompted the establish-
ment in England of a special Academy
may lead to a similar undertaking in
the United States. The national socie-
ties devoted to history, economics,
philology, archeology and the like fill
most of the important functions that
were formerly exercised by a national
academy, but there appears to be as
much reason for the students of these
sciences to unite in a national academy
as there is in the case of the natural
sciences. There seems also reason to
suppose that the societies referred to
will form some basis of cooperation as
the natural sciences have done by unit-
ing in the American Association.
Whether all the sciences should unite
in one national academy and in one
national association or whether they
should divide into two separate groups
is certainly a question of considerable
importance.

THE GERMICIDAL ACTION OF THE
ORGANIC PEROXIDES.
Des. F. G. Novy and P. C. Freer, of
the University of Michigan, presented at
the Chicago meeting of the American
Society of Bacteriologists an important
paper that has been extensively, but
not very accurately, reported in the
daily papers. The authors stated that
their investigation was begun with the
object of finding the correct explana-
tion of the action of metals and of sun-
light upon bacteria. Certain metals,
such as gold and copper, exert a
marked inhibiting and even germicidal
effect upon some bacteria, but the in-
terpretation of the results has not been
wholly satisfactory. The fact that
various surfaces, such as metals and
fabrics, exert a marked effect upon the
formation of benzoyl acetyl peroxide
was established by the authors and
served as a basis for the Adew that
metals act upon bacteria by giving rise
to energetic peroxides, which, of neces-
sity, must be more active than ordi-

nary peroxides. The action of sunlight
has been ascribed by different workers
to hydrogen peroxide, but the destruc-
tive action observed is greater than
that which can be credited to this body.
In order to substantiate the theory of
the authors regarding the action of
metals and of sunlight, it was deemed
necessary to investigate the action of a
number of known organic peroxides.
The results show that some of these
bodies, such as aceton peroxide and
dibenzoyl peroxide, are wholly inert.
On the other hand, solutions of diacetyl,
benzoyl acetyl, and of benzoyl hydro-
gen peroxides, and of phthalmonoper-
acid, exert pronounced and even re-
markable germicidal properties. With
reference to diacetyl peroxides and
benzoyl acetyl peroxide, it was shown
that the bodies themselves are chemi-
cally and bacterially inert, but on con-
tact with water they undergo hydroly-
sis and give rise to the extremely
energetic acetyl hydrogen and benzoyl
hydrogen peroxides. A solution of
these peroxides (1: 3,000) is capable
of destroying all pathogenic bacteria.
Cholera and typhoid germs added to
tap water are promptly destroyed by
the addition of one part of peroxide to
100,000 parts of water. The authors
point out the probable value of these
peroxides in the prevention and cure
of these and allied diseases. The de-
struction of bacteria in the mouth and
saliva takes place with extraordinary
rapidity and the reagents have shown
themselves useful in diseases of the
mouth. The powerful effects of the
organic peroxides is not explainable as
due to nascent oxygen, since a solution
of hydrogen peroxide, which will pro-
duce equal germicidal action, contains
one or even two hundred times as much
nascent oxygen. The authors incline
to the belief that the acetyl and
benzoyl ions are the active agents.

TWILIGHT IN THE TROPICS.

Professor S. I. Bailey, of the Har-
vard College Observatory, presented a

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

571

paper at the Washington meeting of
the Astronomical and Astropliysical
Society of America, in which he said
that if there were no atmospliere, there
would be no twilight, and the bright-
ness of midday would be succeeded, the
moment after sunset, by the darkness
of midnight. Twilight may be said to
last until the last bit of illuminated
sky disappears from the western
horizon. In general it has been found
that this occurs when the sun has sunk
about 18° below the horizon. The
duration of time which the sim takes
in reaching this position is very differ-
ent at different latitudes. At the
North Pole one would have about six
months of daylight, followed by nearly
two months of decreasing twilight, fol-
lowed in turn by more than two
months of night. In summer, at lati-
tudes greater than 50°, twilight lasts
from sunset to sunrise. There is no
night there during this season. In the
temperate zones the duration of twi-
light ranges from an hour and a half
to more than two hours. Within the
tropics the sun descends nearly or quite
vertically; but even here the time re-
quired for the sun to reach a point 18°
below the horizon is more than an hour.
There seems to be no reason, therefore,
in the general theory, for the wide-
spread belief that the duration of the
tropical twilight is extremely brief.
This idea is found not only in current
popular literature, but also in some of
the best text-books on general astron-
omy. Young's * General Astronomy,'
says: "At Quito and Lima it (the
twilight) is said to last not more than
twenty minutes." ' The Heavens
Above,' by Gilbert and Rolfe, remarks:
" Within the tropics, where the air is
pure and dry, twilight sometimes lasts
only fifteen minutes." Since Arequipa,
Peru, lies within the tropics and has an
elevation of 8,000 feet, and the air is
especially pure and dry, the conditions
appear to be exceptionally favorable
for an extremely short twilight. On
Sunday, June 25, 1899, the following

observations were made at the Har-
vard Astronomical Station, which is
situated there: The sun disappeared
at 5:30 p.m., local mean time. At 6:00
P.M., 30 m. after sunset, I could read
ordinary print with perfect ease. At
G:30 P.M. I could see the time readily
by an ordinary watch. At G:40 p.m.,
70 m. after sunset, the illuminated
western sky was still bright enough to
cast a faint shadow of an opaque body
on a white surface. At 6:50 p.m. the
illumination was faint, and at 6:55
p.m., 1 h. and 25 m. after sunset, it
had disappeared. On August 27, 1899,
the following observations were made
at Vincocaya. The latitude of this
place is about 16° south, and the alti-
tude 14,360 feet. Here it was possible
to read coarse print 47 m. after sunset,
and twilight could be seen for an hour
and twelve minutes after the sun's dis-
appearance. It appears, therefore, that
while the tropical twilight is some-
what shorter than occurs elsewhere,
and is still further lessened by favor-
able conditions, such as great altitude
and a specially pure air, it is never
less, and generally much longer, than
an hour.

A GENUS OF GREAT ANTIQUITY.
The number of genera which came
into existence in early geological times
and have persisted until the present
day is very small, and a study of the
recent representatives of such genera is
always of interest. The gasteropod
genus, Pleurotomaria, made its appear-
ance during the lower Cambrian period
and is represented in the seas of to-day
by at least four species, P. Quoyana,
P. Adansoniana, P. Beyrichii and P.
Rumphii. These species were founded
on the characters of the shells alone,
and the animal remained unknown
until 1871, when Professor Louis
Agassiz dredged a specimen of P.
Quoyana off the Barbadoes in about 100
fathoms. Additional specimens of both
Quoyana and Adonsoniana were obtained
by the 'Blake' under the direction of

572

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Mr. Alexander Agassiz in 1879 and have
been described by Dr. Dall and by MM.
Bouvier and Fischer. More recently
several specimens of P, Beyrichii have
been taken off the coast of Japan from
a depth of 70 to 80 fathoms and have
formed the basis of a description by
Mr. Martin F. Woodward, which ap-
pears in a recent number of the
'Quarterly Journal of Microscopical
Science' (March, 1901).

As might be expected from its great
antiquity, Pleurotomaria presents a
number of primitive characteristics
which throw considerable light upon
the affinities of the different groups of
the MoUusca. Possessing two gills, two
kidneys and two auricles to the heart,
it belongs to the suborder termed Dioto-
cardia zygobranchia, a group which
also includes the genera Haliotis and
Fissurella; and which, on account of
the approximation of its members to a
greater degree of bilateral symmetry
than is found in the majority of the
Gasteropods, is generally regarded as
being the most primitive group of its
order. In several respects, however,
Pleurotomaria is found to possess
structural characters of a more primi-
tive nature than those found in other
diotocardiates and appears to stand in
closer relation to the main line from
which the monotocardia have diverged
than any other recent genus.

It would require more space than can
be allowed here to mention all the im-
portant results obtained by Mr. Wood-
ward, but attention may be called ( 1 )
to the primitive condition of the nerv-
ous system, whose cells are scattered
along the various connectives and are
not aggregated into definite ganglia — a
condition recalling that obtaining in
the Amphineurous Mollusca; and (2)
to the peculiar position of the support-
ing skeleton of the gills, which, taken

into consideration with the occurrence
of a well-developed spinal caecum at-
tached to the stomach, suggests to Mr.
Woodward's mind a comparison and
possibly an affinity with the Cephalo-
pods, in which similar conditions exist.

SCIENTIFIC ITEMS.
The students of the University of
California held memorial exercises in
honor of the late Professor Joseph Le
Conte on February 26, the anniversary
of his birth. Funds are being collected
to assist in the erection of a granite
lodge which the Sierra Club proposes to
construct in the Yosemite Valley as a
memorial to Dr. Le Conte. — Plans have
been formed for the erection of a
memorial tower and meteorological sta-
tion in honor of Dr. J. P. Joule, F.R.S.,
at Sale, Cheshire, where he lived from
1872 to the time of his death in 1880.

Professors William James and W.
Wundt, the eminent psychologists, and
Professor James Dewar, the eminent
chemist, have been elected honorary
members of the New l^ork Academy of
Sciences. — Professor Hermon C. Bum-
pus has been appointed director of the
American Museum of Natural History,
New York. — Professor W. H. Brewer,
for thirty-seven years professor of agri-
culture in the Sheffield Scientific School
of Yale University, will retire from the
active duties of the professorship at
the end of the present academic year.

It will be remembered that Mr. J.
Pierpont Morgan gave last year $1,-
000,000 for the rebuilding of the Har-
vard Medical School. An equal sum
has recently been given by Mr. John
D. Rockefeller, and nearly the same
amount has been given by others, in-
cluding $250,000 from Mrs. C. P. Hunt-
ingdon and $100,000 from Mr. James
Stillman.

INDEX.

573

INDEX.

THE NAME3 OF CONTRIBUTORS ARE PRINTED IN SMALL CAPITALS.

Acid., Sulfuric, Manufacture of, 479.

Agassiz, Louis, and T. H. Huxley,
Ediaburgii Kevieweb, Asa Gray,
On the Reception of the Origin of
Species, 181.

Agricultural Yearbook, 185.

Agriculture, Work of Department of,
285.

Alaska, Harriman Expedition of 1900,
281.

American, Association, Winter Meeting
of, 283; Society of Naturalists, (.."lii-
cago Meeting, 380; Mathematical
and Physical Societies, 381; Chem-
ical Society, Philadelphia Meeting,
381.

Antarctic Exploration, J. W. Geegoet,
209.

Arnold's Sea-beach at Ebb-tide, 90.

Association, American, Winter Meet-
ing of, 283 ; British, French and Ger-
man, for the Advancement of Sci-
ence, 92.

Astronomical and Astrophysical So-
ciety of America, 381.

Aurora Borealis, Comets' Tails, the
Corona, John Cos, 265.

Bacon, Friar Roger, Edwaed S. Hol-

DEN, 255.
Bailey, Solon I., Recent Total

Eclipses of the Sun, 240.
Bailey on Twilight in the Tropics, 570.
Baldwin's Dictionary of Philosophy

and Psychology, 378.
Bicentennial Exercises of Yale, 187.
BiGELOw, Frank H.,^The Formation

and Motions of Clouds, 495.
Bigourdan on the Metric System, 89.
Biographies of Eminent Chemists, 566.
Biology, Contributions to, from In-
vestigations on the Breeding Salmon,

Y'anuell Henderson, 503.
Birds, Journeyings of, F. H. Knowl-

TON, 323.
Black Belt, Theology versus Thrift in,

Charles Bartlett Dyke, 360.
Bornstein's Leitfaden der W^etter-

kunde, 186.
Brannfr, John C, The Palm Trees of

Brazil, 386.
British Association, Glasgovir Meeting

of, 92.

Cahow, The Story of the, A. E.

Verrill, 22.
Calkins's Introduction to Psychology,

186.
Calms, A Study of, Edwin Grant

Dextee, 521.
Cameron, Frank K., The Soil as an

Economic and Social Factor, 539.
Carnegie Institution, 379; Trust

Deed by Andrew Carnegie creating

a Trust for the benefit of the, 470;

Officers of, 475.
Cement for a Modern Street, S. F.

Peckham, 145.
Chamberlain, Alexander Francis,

Work and Rest, Genius and Stupid-
ity, 413.
Chapin, Charles V., The End of the

Filth Theory of Disease, 234.
Chemical, Industry of England, 191;

Society, American, Philadelphia

Meeting, 381.
Chemists, Biographies of Eminent, 566.
Clayton, H. Helm, The Influence of

Rainfall on Commerce and Politics,

158.
Clouds, Formation and Motions of,

Frank H. Bigelow, 495.
College-Man as Leader in the World's

Work, R. H. Thurston, 346.
Comets' Tails, the Corona and the

Aurora Borealis, John Cox, 265.
Commerce, and Politics, Influence of

Rainfall on, H. Helm Clayton, 158;

Our Foreign, in 1901, Frederic

Emory, 529.
Convocation Week and Winter Meet-
ings of Scientific Societies, 283.
Corson, Mrs. Hiram, Janet's Etat Men-
tal des hysteriques, 378.
(^'ox, John, Comets' Tails, the Corona

and the Aurora Borealis, 265.
Culture, Human, and Environment in

Relations to Sex in, Otis T. Mason,

336.

Dall, W. H., Lamarck, the Founder of
Evolution, 263; Alpheus Hyatt, 439.

Darwin, Charles, On the Tendency of
Species to form Varieties, 5.

Davis, Bradley Moore, The Origin of
Sex in Plants, 06.

574

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Day, Length of, affected by Secular
Cooling and Meteoric Dust, 190.

Degenerate Age, Is this a, J. J. Steven-
son, 481.

Deluge, The Noachian, G. Frederick
Wright, 279.

Democracy and the Recognition of Sci-
ence, 477.

Descent of Man, Lindley M. I^asbey,
365.

Dexter, Edwin Grant, A Study of
Calms, 521.

Dictionary of Philosophy and Psy-
chology, 378.

Differentiation of the Human Species,
Lindley M. Keasbey, 448.

Discussion and Correspondence, 270,
377.

Disease, End of Filth Theory of,
Charles V. Chapin, 234.

Draining of the Zuider Sea, J. H. Gore,
552.

Dyke, Charles Bartlett, Theology
versus Thrift in the Black Belt, JGO.

Eclipse Expeditions, Work of the, 478.

Eclipses, Kecent Total, of the Sun,
Solon I. Bailey, 240.

Economic and Social Factor, Soil as,
Frank K. Cameron, 539.

Edinburgh Reviewer, and T. H. Hux-
ley, Louis Agassiz, Asa Gray, On
the Reception of the Origin of
Species, 179.

Education, The National Control of,
Sib John E. Gorst, 49.

Electromagnetic Basis for Mechanics,
94.

Emory, Frederic, Our Foreign Com-
merce in 1901, 529.

Engineering, Books on, 474.

Environment in Relation to Sex in
Human Culture, Otis T. Mason, 336.

Evolution, Idea, Lucretius and the,
William L. Poteat, 166; Lamarck,
the Founder of, W. H. Dall, 263;
Stellar, in the Light of Recent Re-
search, George E. Hale, 291 ; of
Fishes, David Starr Jordan, 556.

Exploration, Antarctic, J. W. Gregory,
209.

Extinct Animals, Popular Books on,
473.

Fanaticism, Suicidal, in Russia, W. G.
Sumner, 442.

Filth Theory of Disease, End of,
Charles V. Chapin, 234.

Fishes, of Japan, David Starr Jordan,
76; Evolution of, David Starr Jor-
dan, 556.

Franklin's Philosophical Society, Ellis
Paxon Oberholtzer, 430.

Frear and Novy on Germicidal Action
of the Organic Peroxides, 570.

French Association for the Advance-
ment of Science, 92.

Fruits, Dried, Zinc in, 93.

Fuertes on Water Filtration Works,
474.

Functions of a Museum and of its
Director, 377.

Galton, Francis, The Possible Im-
provement of the Human Breed
under existing Conditions of Law
and Sentiment, 218.

Genius and Stupidity, Work and Rest,
Alexander Francis Chamberlain^
413.

Genus of Great Antiquity, a, 571.

Geological Society of America, Roches-
ter Meeting, 381.

Germicidal Action of the Organic
Peroxides, Novy and Frear on, 570.

German Men of Science and Physi-
cians, 92.

Giddings on Inductive Sociology, 282.

GiFFEN, Sir Robert, The Importance of
General Statistical Ideas, 106.

Glazebrook, R. T., The Aims of the
National Physical Laboratory of
Great Britain, 124.

Gore, J. H., Draining of the Zuider
Sea, 551.

Gorst, Sir John E., The National Con-
trol of Education, 49.

Gray, Asa, and T. H. Huxley, Edin-
burgh Reviewer, Louis Agassiz, On
the Reception of the Origin of
Species, 183.

Green on the English Chemical Indus-
try, 191.

Gregory, J. W., Antarctic Explora-
tion, 209.

Haddon, a. C, The Omen Animals of

Sarawak, 80.
Hale, George E., Stellar Evolution in

the Light of Recent Research, 291.
Harriman Alaska Expedition of 1900,

281.
Henderson, Yandell, Contributions to

Biology from Investigations on the

Breeding Salmon, 503.
Hills, Frederick Lyman, Psychiatry

— Ancient, Medieval and Modern, 31.
Holden, Edward S., Friar Roger

Bacon, 255.
Human, Breed, Improvement of, under

existing Conditions of Law and

Sentiment, Francis Galton, 218;

Culture, Environment in Relation

to Sex in, Otis T. Mason, 336;

Species, Differentiation of the, Lind-
ley M. Keasbey, 448.
Huxley, T. H., and The Edinburgh

Reviewer, Louis Agassiz, Asa

Gray, On the Reception of the Origin

of Species, 177.

INDEX.

575

Hyatt, Alpheus, W. H. Dall, 439. i Museums, American, Meyer on, 382.

Intellect, Human, Evolution of, Ed-

WAKD L. TUOKxNUIKE, 58.

International Zoological Congress at

Berlin, 188.
Intuitive Suggestions, Thomas on, 378.

Janet's Etat Mental des hystfiriques,

378.
Japan, Fishes of, David Stakb Jordan,

76.
Jolins Hopkins University, 568.
Jordan, David Starr, The Fishes of

Japan, 70; The Evolution of Fishes,

556.
Journeyings of Birds, F. H. I^^OWL-

TON, 323.

Keasbey, Lindley M., The Descent of
Man, 365; The Differentiation of the
Human Species, 448.

Knowlton, F. H., The Journeyings of
Birds, 323.

Lamarck, the Founder of Evolution,
\V. H. Dall, 263.

Lightning, The Spectrum of, 479.

Literary Problem, A Mechanical Solu-
tion of, T. C. Mendenhall, 97.

Lucas's Animals of the Past, 473.

Lucretius and the Evolution Idea,
William; L. Poteat, 166.

MacDougal, D. T., The Sensory
Mechanism of Plants, 174.

MacMillan, Conway, The Minnesota
Seaside Station, 193.

Magnitude and Mass of the Visible
Universe, 287.

Man, Descent of, Lindley M. ELeasbey,
365.

Mason, Otis T., Environment in Re-
lation to Sex in Human Culture,
336.

Mathematical, American, and Physical
Societies, Society for Plant Mor-
phology and Physiology, 381.

Mechanics, 567 ; Electromagnetic Basis
for, 94.

Mendenhall, T. C, A Mechanical
Solution of a Literary Problem, 97.

Message 'of the President, 283.

Meteoric Dust and Secular Cooling,
Effect of, on Length of Day, 190.

Meteorolog}% Text-Book of, 1^86.

Metric System, 89.

Meyer, on American Museums, 382.

Minnesota Seaside Station, Conway
MacMillan, 193.

Mosquitoes, Theobald on, 566.

Movements, Earliest Organic, Were
they Conscious or Unconscious? 458.

Museum, Functions of a, and of its
Director, 377; The National, 568.

National, Control of Education, Sib
John E. Gorst, 49; Museum, 568.

Naturalists, American Society of, Chi-
cago Meeting, 380.

Nature Study, Books on, 90.

Naval Observatory, 284.

Nevvcomb on the Stars, 281.

iSJobel Prize, first Avvaru, 92.

Novy and Freer on Germicidal Action
of the Organic Peroxides, 570.

Nutrition, Pawlow's Researches on, 92.

Obebiioltzeb, Ellis Paxon, Franklin's
Philosophical Society, 430.

Observatory, The Naval, 284.

Omen Animals of SarawaK, A. C. Had-
don, 80.

Origin of Species, On the Reception of,
T. H. Huxley, The Edinburgh Re-
viewer, Louis Agassiz, Asa Gray,
177.

Paleontological Discoveries, 383.
Palm Trees of Brazil, John C. Bran-

ner, 386.
Pawlow's Researches on Nutrition, 92.
Peckham, S. F., Cement for a Modern

Street, 145.
Peroxides, Organic, Germicidal Action

of the, 570.
Perseus, The New Star in, 286.
Philbrick's Field Manual for Engi-
neers, 474.
Philosophical Society, Franklin's,

Ellis Paxon Oberholtzer, 430.
Philosophy, What is, Frank Thilly,

513.
Physical Laboratory, National, of

Great Britain, R. T. Glazebrook,

124.
Plant Morphology and Physiology, So-
ciety for, 381.
Plants, The Origin of Sex in, Bradley

Moore Davis, 66; The Sensory

Mechanism of, D. T. MacDougal,

174.
Poteat, William L., Lucretius and the

Evolution Idea, 166.
President's Message, 283.
Psychiatry — Ancient, Medieval and

Modern, Frederick Lyman Hills,

31.
Psychological Books, Recent, 378.
Psychologique, L'ann^e, 378.
Psychology, Introduction to, 186.
Rainfall, Influence of, on Commerce

and Politics, H. Helm Clayton, 158.
Reptiles, Winged, S. W. Williston,

314.

Salmon, Breeding, Contributions to
Biology from Investigations on,
Yandell Henderson, 503.

576

POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Sarawak, Omen Animals of, A. C.
Haudon, 80.

Science, Progress of, 92, 187, 283, 379,
475, 568; in 1901, 424; Democracy
and the Recognition of, 477.

Scientific, Literature, 89, 185, 281,
378, 473, 565; Items, 96, 192, 288,
384, 480, 572; Societies, Winter
Meetings of, 283; Meetings of, 380;
Work Here and Abroad, 476.

Seaside Station, Minnesota, Conway
MacMillan, 193.

Secular Cooling and Meteoric Dust,
Effect of, on Length of Day, 190.

Seeiey's Dragons of the Air, 473.

Sensoiy Mechanism of Plants, D. T.
MacDougal, 17*.

Sex, in Plants, Origin of, Bradley
Moore Davis, 66; Environment in
Relation to, in Human Culture, Otis
T. Mason, 336.

Sociology, Inauctive, Giddings on, 282.

Soil, The, as an Economic and Social
Factor, Frank K. Cameron, 539.

Species, Tendency of, to form Varieties,
Charles Darwin, 5; Human, Dif-
ferentiation of the, Lindley M.
Keasbey, 448.

Spectrum of Lightning, 479.

Star, The New, in Perseus, 286.

Stars, Newcomb on the, 281.

Statistical Ideas, Importance of Gen-
eral, Sir Robert Giffen, 106.

Stellar Evolution in the Light of Re-
cent Research, George E. Hale, 291.

Stevenson, J. J., Is this a Degenerate
Age? 481.

Street, Cement for Modern, S. F.
Peckham, 145.

Sumner, W. G., Suicidal Fanaticism in
Russia, 442.

Sun, Recent Total Eclipses of, Solon I.
Bailey, 240.

Suicidal Fanaticism in Russia, W. G.
Sumner, 442.

Sulfuric Acid, Manufacture of, 479.

Teacher, A, Functions of a Museum

and of its Director, 377.
Telegraphy, Wireless, 381.
Theobald on Mosquitoes, 566.
Theology versus Thrift in the Black

Belt, Charles Bartlett Dyke, 360.

Thilly, Frank, What is Philosophy?
513.

Thomas on Intuitive Suggestions, 378.

TiioRNDiKE, Edward L., The Evolution
of the Human Intellect, 58.

Thurston, R. H., The College-Man as
Leader in the World's Work, 346.

TiTCHENER, E. B., Were the Earliest
Organic Movements Conscious or Un-
conscious? 458.

Twilight in the Tropics, Bailey on, 570.

Universe, Visible, Magnitude and Mass

of, 287.
University, Johns Hopkins, The, 569.

Varieties, on the Tendency of, to depart
Indefinitely from the Original Type,
Alfred Russel Wallace, 13.

Verrill, a. E., The Story of the
Cahow, 22.

Virchow, Professor Rudolf, Eightieth
Birthday of, 187.

Wallace, Alfred Russel, On the

Tendency of Varieties to depart

Indefinitely from the Original Type,

13.
WiLLiSTON, S. W., Winged Reptiles,

314.
Wireless Telegraphy, 381.
Woodward on the Effect of Secular

Cooling, 190.
Work and Rest — Genius and Stupidity,

Alexander Francis Chamberlain,

413.
Wright, G. Frederick, The Noachian

Deluge, 279.
Wright's Flowers and Ferns in their

Haunts, 91.

Yale Bicentennial Exercises, 187.
Yearbook of the U. S. Department of
Agriculture, 185.

Zinc in Dried Fruits 93.

Zoological Congress, International,

188.
Zoology, Tendencies in, 95.
Zuider Sea, Draining of the, J. H.

Gore, 552.

MBL WHOI LIBRARY

UH lANL I