—— ma = addon ie mas - tees a a te ~ ~~ reat ec atae 4 : ftetgtet stesaligadiped SESE j { va at S78)45 ‘ PePEPEPE EAC UE ST Ot Os y, t MA PEPEP ESTAS STIL ES bled t TE ay am ta? Pare Pa Pi ty be Pe Thi hei bepetitat ESRRR EET SEE + et tate ; a5 uO i ‘ ’ : a Oh me mae ’ ° aay th ,) y if ‘ A, lV A ' ' : " ‘ : THE SCIENTIFIC MONTALY che SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY Vbe EDITED BY J. MCKEEN CATTELL VOLUME II JANUARY TO JUNE, 1916 NEW YORK -LHE SCreNn CE PRESS 1916 Fd 1 - i ——s rime 7 ae 4 6 ee a 7 : { 4 aor a | ores. ay 7 z+, ; : | Q $317 yee cf Old 0, | ra) WAR Y RA aA Copyright, 1915 4h \\ eC) Tue Scrence Press ie \ents 4 \ BE \ af a 7 (> j \ ty 1 . TAN? TUTTTRE ITN S Ue SD a re ie SG sa 2 Ge DA i hae BE Oa e sck Xe JANUARY, 1916 THE MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC By ALFRED GOLDSBOROUGIL MAYER ORE than 2,000 years ago, there lived upon the Islands from Sumatra to the Philippines an ancient sea-faring race, the brown-skinned Sawaiori. Of their origin we know nothing, but that they had long been separated from the Indian Peninsula is evident, for there are no Sanscrit words in the language of their descendants. Much as the Polynesians are to-day, their ancestors, the half-mythical Sawaiori, probably were in those ages long past, for even to-day no Polynesian population has developed a national solidarity. Their polit- ical and social unit is and always has been the village, fortified, self-cen- tered, with no communal interest and no civic virtue extending beyond the limits of its ramparts of rattan. Weak as a house divided against itself were the Sawaiori when before the dawn of our Christian era, hordes of Malay pirates began to swarm out from southeastern Asia and to overrun the off-lying islands.* We may picture village after village obliterated in an orgie of mas- sacre and outrage. From the roar of burning thatch the weak ones slunk away, while to the cat-like Malay the heroes fell a prey. One desperate resource remained to the persecuted race—flight over the wide and un- known waters of the Pacific. Eastward went the fugitives in two great streams, one along the northern and the other skirting the southern coast of New Guinea. But, although forced by hunger to conquer a landing place, there to grow the broad-leaved taro for the onward voyage, no home for the Sawai- ori could be found upon New Guinea, for ever in his rear there lurked the Malayan prahu, while the forests around him secreted cannibals hun- gering for his flesh. Before the dawn of history they sailed, these mariners of a weak and exiled race, who heavy with many a fear the world has long outlived, yet braved the unknown perils of this loneliest of seas—the ocean of the long low heave, the never stilled breathing of the monster in his sleep; for calm over the Pacific has but the semblance 1 For a résumé of his own and previous researches upon this subject one should consult William Churchill’s ‘‘ Polynesian Wanderings,’’ published by the Carnegie Institution of Washington in 1911. THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY of peace and over its hours of stillness there broods the threat of storm— to them but the inaction of a demon nursing his rage. Thus onward sped the disheartened bands until New Guinea and the Bismarck Archipelago faded beneath the western sea, and the high mountains of the Salomons rose majestically above the eastern horizon. Then along the coast of these Islands, so fair to look upon, our wander- ers still sailed searching always for the land of peace and finding only the abode of the Melanesian savage, but still beyond, luring them on- ward toward the rising sun, lay the untried ocean. Forced at last to leave all land behind, they did as wise sailors would have done, steered close into the southeast trades that blow so con- stantly over this vast expanse of ocean. Thus when starvation hovered near, when the last of the meagre store of fermented bread fruit had been consumed, and slaves began to fall to sustain the master voyagers, there still remained as a last resource the fair wind to bear them back to the known but dreaded shores of the Salomons. Such a course from the southeasternmost Salomons close hauled on NATIVES OF TRUK ATOLL, CAROLINE ISLANDS, MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC ~ KING AND HicH CHIEFS OF FIJI, AT BAU, IN 1899. the tropical wind, would carry our navigators to the Santa Cruz group where once again they had to encounter their old foe the negroid Mela- nesian. Thus after conquering only enough of the coveted shore to suffice for a temporary resting place, they sped onward and away to dis- cover Rotumah where at last peace from all but their own ambitions awaited them. Then as years passed and little Rotumah became overpopulated, and jealousies engendered savage wars, some long-forgotten Columbus of the Pacific made a last and final voyage of 600 miles over the open ocean to beautiful Samoa, the E] Dorado of the Polynesian race. With faces toward the rising sun they had gone their fearsome way, and as beaten fugitives taking awful chances a remnant of their race had found the seclusion of a land untrodden by any but their own feet. Yet, as men treasuring the memory of their past, they turned their home- sick faces toward the setting sun, whence the spirits of their dead re- turned over the ocean to the mythical fatherland the old songs still de- THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY THREE MAIDENS OF FUNAFUTI ATOLL, ELLICEH ISLANDS. Types of the Polynesian race. scribe. For somewhere, far to the westward lay the half-forgotten home, and the something that stands for Europe to us in America, is the fabled Hawaiki to the Polynesians of to-day. Generations came and passed, but Samoa remained to them by right of eminent domain. ‘Yet history constantly repeats itself, and wars and persecutions again operated as of old, so that within historic times, from five hundred to three hundred years ago, so the old songs tell, great voyages were made from Samoa to Hawaii, to the Cook Islands and thence to New Zealand; to Tahiti, Fiji, Tonga, the Ellice and Gilbert Islands, and to the remotely isolated Easter Island. In Samoa the story is of the departing fugitives and in Hawaii or New Zealand the song tells of their arrival, and the dates of these achieve- ments are fixed by the generations of the chiefs that have been and passed away, and are now but names known but to the chanting priests. For two thousand miles around Samoa the men of Polynesian race were masters of the island-world, and thus from Rotumah to Easter Island four thousand miles from west to east, and from New Zealand to Hawaii MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC 9 four thousand miles from south to north, one general language is spoken even to our day. Throughout this vast area, isl- ands uninhabited to-day show crude carvings on the rocks, as at Pitcairn, evidencing the presence of voyagers long dead. There is reason to be- heve that for centuries before the white man came, the arts of canoe- making and sailing had been declin- ing in Polynesia. Yet centuries Man or TRUK GROUP, CAROLINE ISLANDS. Ear-rings made of turtle and snail shells. Malay admixture is apparent. before our ancestors dared venture from the sight of land, the Polyne- sians were lords of the vastest ocean empire of the earth. Thus far, we have considered only the northern current of adven- turers, those who sailed along the northern shore of New Guinea; but as Churchill shows, there were others, Maaru Maatu, 4 High Cuter or Tonga, who, forced out from the region of rephew of Maafu, who conquered the q a Lau Group of the Fiji Islands. Sumatra, wandered eastward along Io THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY A WARRIOR OF TARI TARI ISLAND, GILBERT ISLANDS, dressed in cocoanut fiber armor - and shark’s skin belt, and holding weapons edged with shark’s teeth. the southern shore of New Guinea until they reached the region of Torres Straits, where traces of their language still remain. Then, as they, too, sailed outward over the Pacific, certain of their canoes found a final rest- ing place upon the New Hebrides, as at Efaté, Aniwa and Fotuna, where the negroid Melanesians still retain many Polynesian words and phrases ; then, finally, these southern wanderers found Fiji, there to amalgamate with the more primitive Melanesians and to give rise to one of the finest races now inhabiting the Pacific. As for the remnant of Sawaiori words now found in the speech of the Malays, it is such as one would expect the sons of conquerers to acquire from their mothers of the conquered race. The purest examples of the Polynesian stock to be seen to-day are in Samoa, the Society, and Ellice Islands. The once superb men of New Zealand, and the giant race of Tahiti have degenerated, the population MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC 11 of the Marquesas is upon the verge of extinction and the Hawaiians are declining and amalgamating with the Chinese. In color the Polynesian is a rich bronze-brown, and when not sun- burned he may be said to be about twice as dark as a Spaniard or Southern Italian. The black hair, slightly waving, falls in heavy masses over the fine broad shoulders. The somewhat flattened never prominent nose and chin are very characteristic. The lips are full but not protru- sive, and the eyes are almond-shaped, giving so close a general resem- blance to the Japanese peasant that one has difficulty in distinguishing one from the other when both are mingled in a crowd. The Polynesian is, however, far larger and more muscular in appearance than the Japan- ese and as he stands superbly erect, his shoulders never bent under the weight of servile burdens or stooped to the student’s yolk of mental labor, one is forced to liken him to a bronze statue turned to life, so charming is the symmetry of his superb body. In contrast with the athletes of our own race, his chest-museles are far finer, and instead of MOTHER AND DAUGHTER, TARAWA ISLAND, GILBERT ISLANDS. r2 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY being good only in arms or legs his uniformity of development is re- markable. None of his muscles stands out in distorted swollen form, but all in all he is the epitome of graceful manly strength, not thin and cat-like as is the treacherous Malay. In contrast with the Polynesian stands the Papuan of Eastern New Guinea for, despite his Polynesian WOMAN SHOWING PIERCED FEARS, AND MODE OF WEARING Mats. RONGELAB ATOLL, MARSHALL ISLANDS. admixture, im essential character- istics he remains negroid, with a huge mop-like mass of coarse crin- kled hair. His skin is dark choc- olate, his arms long, his poorly devel- oped legs short and bent at the knees, and his body weakly made, his small eyes bloodshot and_ sinister, nose large but only moderately flattened, and the weak chin and thick pro- trusive lips revealing descent from Africa. Mm a skaumman,Arow, Minsuii Tn Fiji, and to a lesser degree in ing the mat. Micrones‘an type. Tonga we find a mixed race with MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC 13 the mop-like hair and small cruel eye of the Papuan, but with a splen- didly developed body, the proud heritage from Polynesian ancestors. In Tonga and Fiji the average height is probably quite six feet, and the symmetry of form and perfection of development of every muscle in these huge but shapely men seem more statuesque than human to us, accus- tomed as we are to shoulders bent by the physical and mental tasks of civilization. “A Shrimp” the huge Fijian laughingly designates the white man, in allusion to his puny strength and stooping figure. Itisa new thing to us, this sight of superb bronze-brown men and women, all unconscious of their scantiness of clothes, the most beautiful of all nature’s children in their naturalness. Nor is it to be assumed that being unclothed is conducive to immorality, for the morals of a Fijian village would put those of our own towns to the blush. In striking contrast to the finer races of the Pacific is the Australian who is among the lowest of existing men, apparently comparable in culture with the savage who lived in Europe before the Glacial epoch, and whose remains have occasionally been found in caverns as at Nean- derthal and Spee. The lowest of the Australians are those of the vast spinifex deserts of the interior, while the highest in physique and culture are found in the tropical forests of Queensland or along the shores of the Northern Territory, where an admixture of Papuan blood has improved the race. But nowhere does the Australian rise to the intellectual level of the natives of the Pacific Islands. His little eyes glitter suspiciously from deeply sunken orbits nearly hidden under-unkempt locks of matted hair that conceal the low retreating brow, furrowed and frowning. The dark chocolate color of his face with its huge flat nose, broad-lipped slit-like mouth, projecting teeth, and weak retreating chin form a demon-like picture as he skulks silent and snake-like through the thickets where he seeks the kangaroo. He wears no clothing, but for decoration he may carry a crude necklace of shells or seeds, and his body is seamed by the scars of deep cuts attesting to his clan-brand and manhood in the tribe, and to his duty done in mourning for lost relatives. As one listens to the chattered sounds of these creatures of the wilds and observes them feasting gluttonously upon half-cooked snakes, insects, or lily pads the thought that man is but the descendant of ape-like forms overwhelms one with a horror of conviction as we realize that our own ancestors may once have been such as these. Only where Papuan influence is apparent does he exhibit any consid- erable skill in arts, and even here nearly all his implements are designed either for war or the chase. He never cultivates the soil. and lives crouching under the shelter of miserable domelike huts of bark or leaves. The boomerang is his most characteristic weapon, although the spear is actually in more universal use in Australia, and it is doubtful whether even the boomerang was invented in Australia for it is known to the TH NI SaUsSooyy AV IVI MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC 15 natives of Ceylon and Timor through which the Australians are supposed to have passed on their way from India. There are rarely more than fifty persons in a tribe, and they live segregated from and suspicious of all others of their race. So restricted is intercourse that in Queensland alone there are more than one hundred distinct languages. Indeed everything about them points to the extreme antiquity of this primitive race whose apparent Indo-Aryan affinities appear to ally them more closely to ourselves than to the Pap- uans of New Guinea. There is indeed some reason for the conjecture that these hideous people of Australia came originally from Hindustan where their modern cousins are represented in the tribes of the Dravidian coast. Women occupy a hopelessly degraded position among the Australians, being little more than slaves of their savage captors, who may wound and maltreat them in a shocking manner. Yet in all things the Australian is better where his contact with civilization has been least, for all that is corrupt among us gathers to his ruin and, after a few generations of lingering agony, he vanishes a prey to hideous disease. Far from the coast, hidden in the dense forests of tropical Queensland or in the vast wilds of the Northern Territory there are still superb specimens of this fated race, and even in higher qualities the Australian may not be wanting. One must indeed admire the courage of the lone native of the desert who with a single spear withstood the coming of the explorer Giles and his caravan of camels which must have appeared to him as demons from a supernatural realm. Courage, an attribute of all mankind, they have yet in common with ourselves, and as with all simple people, their deepest fears are but the figments of their own imaginations, thus in Papua and else- where where the chiefs have but little power, the sorcerer becomes the dreaded tyrant of the tribe. Here as elsewhere over the Pacific, the whites found the natives shuddering under the espionage of a host of evil spirits of their myths, and even to-day when Christianity has in great measure supplanted old beliefs, it is the sermon narrating the horrors of hell that commands their entranced attention. A deity of love is still to them but an unnatural abstraction and a vengeful, jealous demon, delighting in his opportunity to punish, is still the favorite god of the natives of the Pacific. Yet primitive though the Australians are in most respects and unre- sponsive to the influences of higher cultures as they have always re- mained, the researches of Baldwin-Spencer in the Northern Territory show that the natives have been systematically under-rated by previ- ous observers, for in their complex and picturesque ceremonial of propi- tiation to gods, ghosts and ancestral spirits, as well as in their rigorous etiquette and respect for fundamental rights within the tribe, they chal- 16 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY lenge high admiration. A ceremonial deep-rooted in tradition and fixed by unchangeable custom controls nearly every act, and tinctures every thought of their lives. Even in the minds of the young men this cere- monial occupies an important place, but as years go on a greater and greater proportion of time is devoted to its observance, so that religious rites and dances become practically the sole occupation of the aged. The skill of the Australians in tracing barely discernible trails through the forest is extraordinary, for they follow at a run the track of a horse which passed over the ground five days previously. Their young children learn to read with greater rapidity than do those of the whites but advancement soon ceases, and arithmetic is a stumbling block which they rarely or never overcome. Indeed, in the wilds they are commonly unable to count beyond three or four without objective aid. So small are the tribes, and so transient their settlements, that there is little communal organization for defense, and thus it is that in Aus- tralia the chiefs are held in but little respect, whereas among the Poly- MAN OF TARI TARI ISLAND, GILBERT ISLANDS. A type of the Micronesian. MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC 17 4 » ° Wy ™ a7 dUy. NATIVES OF KURANDA, QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA, Standing in front of their house. The self-inflicted scars denote mourning for dead friends and relatives. nesians where the village is a store-house of valued property whose own- ers must be both defended and aggressive, the chief gains so high an im- portance among conditions incident to a state of feudalism, that he be- comes a semi god-like personage across whose shadow none dare pass, and who must be addressed in language more primitive and ceremonious than that used in conversing with ordinary men. A great body of tra- dition transmitted verbally from generation to generation has grown up in Polynesia, and the ancestry of the chiefs of the Malietoa family of Samoa is traced thus for twenty-five generations, and stories of voyages from Samoa, the Cook Islands, and Tahiti appear in the songs and myths VOL. I.—2. 18 THE SCIENTIFIC. MONTHLY THE PRECIPICE NEAR KATOOMBA IN THE BLUE MoUNTAINS Or New SourH WALBS. of New Zealand and Hawaii. The question “ What canoe did your an- cestor come over in” is an important one in Polynesia as well as in Massachusetts. Yet in Polynesia, as with ourselves, the treasured tra- ditions are those telling of the achievements of ancestors and the great deeds of aliens are soon forgotten. Thus, when Cook reached New Zealand in 1769 he was surprised to find that the natives retained no traditions respecting Tasman’s visit to their shores in 1642. As La Farge says it is remarkable that the development of art among MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC 19 the peoples of the Pacific is by no means commensurate with the standard of their general culture. It is true that the Australians, who are prob- ably the lowest, display no considerable skill in their arts, but the Papuans excel the more cultured peoples of Samoa and Tahiti. In the Pacific, as with all savages, art constantly manifests a symbolic and religious tendency. In Eastern New Guinea and the Trobriand Islands, the theme of the decoration is the representation of the head of the wor- shipped frigate bird, while in the Cook Islands the elaborately carved paddles were covered with the conventionalized figures of tribal heroes. Almost if not every design, could we discover its history, would be found to be a picture-prayer to a demon, ghost, or ancestral spirit of the tribe. Art’s chief concern is to placate spirits powerful for good or evil. Yet human nature in far Polynesia is not different from its co-type in Paris, and in every savage tribe those who love form and color, love it for its own sake and, like Whistler, feel that art 7s and needs no mission to justify its being. It is always the spirit of the man who has been murdered that the South Sea Islander dreads, and should a tree fall, all within hearing flee to avoid the sight of the disemboweled ghost of the victim of some half forgotten feast. The very breeze among the palm trees whispers tales of a horrible past. Everywhere over the Pacific Islands, be the inhabitants of what race they may, there are certain fundamental things in which they are alike. The house is but a single room, and among the ecruder tribes it serves not only as a shelter for the family, but also for the housing of pigs and chickens. Property in Polynesia is possessed by the family or the com- munity rather than by the individual, and under certain conditions if a member of the tribe steals from his neighbor and succeeds in secreting his possession for several days he acquires a personal right to that which he covets, and may then appear acknowledged by all as its owner by right of strategy. The system of barter is usually direct without the inter- vention of any sort of currency, and presents in our sense are unknown in the Pacific. Your intended gift will be received as proffered barter, and returned at once if it be undesired. Thus it is that white-handled knives could not be disposed of even as “ gifts” in Fiji, while black were readily accepted, and conspicuously patterned red and white waist-clothes must be presented in Tahiti, but dark blue ones are in vogue in Fiji. Everywhere one finds traces of the customs of cannibal days revealed at times in acts the significance of which is now unthought of. Thus in Samoa the village reprobate is wrapped in leaves and carried through the town, and then placed upon the cold stones of an oven, the fire in these days remaining unlighted. In Fiji, the deepest insult is to refer to a man as the “son of a roasted father.” Among uncultured peoples the rulers aided by the priests soon invent 20 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY EUCALYPTIS TREES AND SANDSTONE PRECIPICES NEAR WENTWORTH FALLS IN THE BLUE MouNTAINS OF NEW SoutTH WALES. means to relegate to themselves privileges which once were shared among the many, and matters thus restricted to the few final!y become shielded from the masses by religious screens which take the form of tabus. ‘Thus over the Pacific, cannibalism which once simply satisfied the appetite, of the starving, became religious in its significance and restricted to the aristocracy, among whom it was supposed to transmit to the victor the virtues of the vanquished; to this end being practised by the North American Indian as well as by the Pacific Islander. MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC 21 Man must measure all things in terms of his own experience, and to the Pacific Islander we ourselves are imagined to live in small com- munities upon distant islands. We are supposed to know personally all other white men and many an unfortunate mariner has been held re- sponsible for the evil acts of those of other ships—his friends and tribesmen from the native’s point of view. Thus it was that, in 1839, Williams the great missionary was murdered in the New Hebrides in revenge for outrages committed upon the natives by previous visitors, and the philanthropic Commodore Goodenough met death at Santa Cruz from a similar cause in 1875. All sorts of miracles are expected from the white man, and it is only rarely that a native evinces any surprise at our acts. The working of great steam engines, the phonograph, photography and the electric ight are taken as matters of course even though seen for the first time. I have, however, seen a Polynesian chief too greatly alarmed to wait for his beverage when upon pressing a button an electric bell jingled in the adjacent room; another leaped overboard in a paroxysm of fear when given a cake of ice, while in another instance the uncanny event of the visit was the glowing of an electric light immersed beneath the sea. Wilkes found that the Fijians were far more afraid of his rockets (“fiery spirits”) than of his guns or cannon. Miracles to be received as such must fall within the field of our partial comprehension, the wholly inexplicable is neither miraculous nor interesting. A Fijian LOOKING DOWN THE VALLEY FROM GOVETT’S LEAP IN THE BLUE MouUNTAINS or New SouTH WALES. 22 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY A TREE FERN IN THE PRIMEVAL WOODS OF QUEENSLAND. taken to Sydney gazed stolidly upon the great buildings with no ex- pression of surprise, but was deeply stirred upon seeing a two-wheeled push-cart laden heavily with bananas. A custom which is probably of Polynesian origin, but has spread universally over the Pacific, is that of the tabu which was a consequence of the communistic ownership of property. The ceremony of the tabu is pronounced by the high chief, and thereafter none may molest the protected place or thing. Thus the cocoa-nut palms are made tabu while the fruit is maturing. There are, however, many forms of per- sonal tabu which merge into witch-charms and threats of evil, for belief in witches is universal over the Pacific. In the South Sea Islands women are considered to be the property of men and the ceremony of marriage where it exists shows its kinship with that of the tabu. Struggles for the possession of women are almost the sole cause, of, native warfare, and everywhere woman is the servant rather than the companion of man, although in some places her domestic MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC N w duties may be the reverse of our conception, as in Truk in the Carolines where the woman goes out upon the sea to fish, while the husband re- mains at home to care for house and children. The “house” is how- ever only a combination of chicken-roost and pig pen. It is due to the looseness of the marriage tie and not to respect for women that name and rank descend through the maternal side, the mother alone being ascertainable with certainty. A pleasing element in the life of the Polynesians is their system of entertaining strangers. The largest edifice in the village is set aside for this purpose and is called the “ strangers’ house,” and upon the coming of guests it resounds far into the night with the sound of song and dance. When the copra is to be gathered, or the taro matures in the swamps, or the yams have grown big upon the mountain sides then one hears the songs of many a canoe bearing youthful visitors gaily decked in garlands, and singing to the rhythmic splash of paddles as they glide along the NATIVES OF PONAPI, CAROLINE ISLANDS. 24 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY House av Eva ISLAND, TONGA. shore. The entertaining village is then full of merriment until the labor of the harvest is over when the chief apportions all among the families of his village and their guests. For socialism is the dominant spirit of life in Polynesia. The chief holds property only in the name of his tribe, the individual hardly exists as a personal owner of earthly things, and intelligent natives have declaimed to me against “the money of the white man” saying that “it was the cause of all our selfishness.” When I spoke of our paupers to a head chief of Fiji he asked in surprise how could this be for “surely their friends would feed them were they hungry.” In Fiji years ago, so the story goes, an ambitious young native became a clerk to a grocer in Suva, and so good a salesman was he that his English master sent him back to his native village with a goodly supply of grocer’s stores. Whereat old friends and neighbors came to partake of these things but were told that all were to be sold as did “the white man in Suva.” In a storm of rage the contents of the budding grocer’s shop were divided among all in the village, and the “meanest man in Fiji” returned to “the white man’s town.” In Polynesia an era of dark portent dates from the white man’s com- ing, for long ago they were content in the thought that the village had always been there since the sea-god Hiro had piloted their ancestral canoe to the Island from that other Island of Hawaiki far to the west- ward in the region of Pulotu where the dead go home in the evening. Through all the ages since those long gone days the thatched houses MEN OF THE MID-PACIFIC 25 had clustered under the shadows of the cocoa palms, and rustling leaves and murmuring surf had lulled the village in its sleep. As it always had been so it was, and so men felt it would endure as did the long blue line whereon the ocean met the sky. Unchanged it always would be so the old dreamer Maui sang until a canoe would come that would float upright without an outrigger; an impossibility as all men knew. But one day it came, that God’s canoe without an outrigger. Cloud- like it shaped itself and grew ever more ominous and vast until its huge sails towered above the palm trees, and it came to rest. It was the canoe of the Papalangi, they “ who came from beyond the sky.” Then pale-faced ghosts—“ the sailing gods ”—came upon the island, and the new era commenced for the little village. A long sad era that endures to-day, darkened by the horrors of strange disease and death, humiliated by the domination of avaricious and un- sympathetic masters who peonized the bodies and despised the traditions of the people of the little village so that to-day it lingers silent and with- ering, where once its songs of merriment were heard. May we from our cultural heights descend to cheer with kindly sym- pathy these children of the Island World? Is there aught in our civiliza- tion that can serve to instil into their minds new hope, to reestablish industry, and renew ambition? The task is difficult indeed, for the weak have always been the victims of the strong, be they civilized or savage. The very possession of skill in arts and trades has penalized the CANOE AT VAVAU, TONGA. 26 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY natives and subjected them to the persecution of the bigoted and the avaricious. Fair play is sadly needed—indeed the thing most needed—in the Pacific of to-day. Only through governmental action can adequate craft-schools be maintained and markets found and developed for the products of native manufacture. It is a sad reflection upon our civilization that, through wanton neglect, the world has lost the art of the famous wood carvers of New Zealand, the mat and fan makers of the Marshall Islands, and the tapa decorators of Hawaii, Samoa, and Fiji. Yet under sympathetic guid- ance these crafts might have been modified to conform to the demands of world wide markets and the carved furniture of New Zealand, the artistic floor matting of the Marshall Islanders, and the attractive wall papers of the Hawaiians might have been the prized possession of many an American and European home. Grant them but a just profit for their labor and the races that now are dying of apathy would suddenly awaken into ambitious, self-respecting men and women. GOVERNMENTAL OBSTACLES TO INSURANCE 27 GOVERNMENTAL OBSTACLES TO INSURANCE? By CHANCELLOR DAVID STARR JORDAN STANFORD UNIVERSITY HAVE been asked to speak on the topic of governmental obstacles to insurance, not that I have any special knowledge of the topic, but because these “obstacles” form part of a system of discipline with which I have had some experience and in which we may find something of interest. The obstacles in question are those of compulsory state in- surance, a paternal arrangement which safeguards the worker without any will or initiative of his own or even against his purposes. The in- surance premiums are not a gift, but a forced withdrawal of some por- tion of the workman’s earnings, and the need to preserve his claim to these savings serves as a safeguard to prevent him from wantonly leaving his job. Naturally this system, with the accompanying system of old- age pensions, tends to cut the nerve of personal care for the future by throwing the responsibility on the state. Naturally, also, it interferes with the normal working of insurance arrangements, for these appeal to individual initiative and forethought. These thrive best in an atmos- phere of freedom, while the systems of state insurance and old-age pen- sions deal with men and women mainly as cogs in the wheels of a great industrial machine. We all recognize in theory, at least, the value of some sort of disci- pline. This involves an orderly use of one’s powers and a willingness to subordinate our whims or our interests to some general system related to the common welfare. Discipline implies obedience, and the different types of obedience indicate the nature of this discipline. We may recog- nize three classes of discipline of grown men. ‘These we may differen- tiate as democratic, social and paternal. Under the democratic disci- pline each man is responsible to himself for his own guidance. The period of preliminary education past, he chooses his profession, his own ideals, his own place in the world. Democracy means opportunity, noth- ing more. It opens the whole world before each man, and so much of it is his as he has the wisdom, the strength and the patience to take. This life is not successful unless he has the wit, the soberness, the virtue to make it so. If he has the chance to rise, he has also the chance to fall. He is not held in his place by dull averages. If he is able to develop no ideal, if he wastes his strength in dissipation or vice, if he is one of the unfit in the struggle for life, he must in some degree take 1 Substance of an address before the World Insurance Congress, Panama- Pacific Exposition, San Francisco, October 8, 1915. 28 THEH SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY the consequences. Under a democracy, the governnient is simply the cooperation of the people for mutual aid, to achieve those needful results which are beyond the reach of private effort. Its main duty is summed up under the head of justice. And under this head come sanitation, education, the conservation of resources, the making of roads and public buildings and the maintenance in national and international relations of law and order, those conditions which permit of progress, of normal effort and happiness, which we call by the general name of peace. What I call social discipline arises through obedience to ideals formed in cooperation. One’s inspiration arises not primarily from within, but from the thoughts and needs of his neighbors. At its best, the social discipline is an outgrowth of the democratic discipline. It is through its agency that the great cooperative efforts of our race are achieved. To work for the nation is not the same thing as “to hold down a govern- ment job.” The vulgar attitude towards public affairs is found in all nations—the most pronounced in those least advanced and least demo- cratic. But a sense of social service is one of the best incentives to personal efficiency. It is this sense which has vivified the fight against yellow fever, the bubonic plague and the multitude of minute organic pests which we know by their effects as infectious disease. It is the impulse of social service which has built the Panama Canal, which is restraining the floods of China, which is healing Serbia and feeding Belgium, which in every nation in its degree is fighting against the War System, its theory and its results. The social discipline must rest on some system of voluntary coopera- tion. It can not be enforced from without. Its purpose can not be accepted as a substitute for achievement. In any form of enforced co- operation, the fine spirit of social service is lost somehow in the govern- mental machinery. Thus far the communistic state has been successful only as a theocracy or a tyranny. And a state ruled over by a detached few is not cooperative: nor can it be democratic or just. The paternal discipline is that applied to the people of a nation from the outside. The people are chattels of the state, having no control over its actions, the state having a glory and a prosperity wholly independent of the prosperity and happiness of its people. And by the same token, its rulers must govern by divine right, else they could have no sanction at all. There are but two sanctions for government, the one the will of the people, the other the divine right, by which the reigns of power were snatched from the people before they were born. Under paternal discipline, the citizen has no rights save those ac- corded to him by his overlords of the state. The forms of democracy under paternalism are forms only useful to keep him amused while his neighbor peoples work out their experiments in liberty. Most men in every nation are laboring-men. In democratic discipline in his degree, each man chooses his place of labor, and rises or falls GOVERNMENTAL OBSTACLES TO INSURANCE 29 according to his own ability, fitness or training. A low estate at birth is no bar to his future exaltation. It is the essential feature of the paternal discipline that most men stay where they are put. Freedom is defined as that of cheerfulness which results from satisfaction at havy- ing any place at all in a world which is said to be overpopulated. The son of a working man finds himself in face of a multitude of trades. He is sent perforce to a trade school, and is relieved from the menace which threatens unskilled labor. The fees are low, as is also his capacity for paying them. ‘The differences among men are reduced to their lowest terms. He finds himself in some definite niche in the in- dustrial machine. Government intelligence offices find his place for him. Government insurance keeps him there. He can not well fall below his class. He can not easily rise above it. For his modest future he must depend on his savings, not on promotion. The university, the profes- sional school, are out of his reach, except in the rare event of being a born prize-winner, or the equally rare possibility of marrying rich. It is blue blood, not red, that mostly attracts heiresses, the world over. Universal compulsory education, technical as well as academic, forms part of the paternal system and this saves even the weak-minded from absolute incompetence. ‘Three years of military service, under gradu- ates of the barracks, break the individual will and leave a docile subject in all further discipline. In its “unescapable stimulus to patriotism,” it fits its subject to obey the orders of higher authority without asking for reason why. The industrial value of such discipline is plain. The employer can count on skilled Jabor and labor that is well drilled and mostly free from the noxious spirit of individualism. To escape from his industrial position usually brings only discomfort and failure if noth- ing worse. The feeling of injustice works itself out in vague grouches and vaguer unrest, not in those positive efforts for change which threaten industrial serenity in nations which encourage private initiative. In Prussia, it is said, a citizen has three duties, “ Soldat sein; Steuer zahlen: Mund halten” (be a soldier; pay taxes; keep your mouth shut). These are simple, and they do not encourage initiative. Nothing is said about eternal vigilance which, as we know, is the price of liberty. Under this system, liberty gives place to security, and being a soldier, this security is precarious, for the business of the soldier is war. Under universal conscription the individual loses his rights without acquiring duties. The task of the soldier is not his own nor that of society. He is held in subjection to a central power. In this discipline the people exist for the welfare of the state, the highest purpose of the nation being that of collective efficiency. The workman has therefore the choice between the docile acceptance of a fate not wholly intolerable and revolt with certain misery. State insurance against poverty, unemployment or old age guards him against 30 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY total failure and at the same time cuts the nerve of any effort to gain such security for himself. : Price Collier observes: Real orderliness is born only of individual self-control. To deprive the worker of his choice of expenditure, by taking all but a pittance of it for tax- ation, is a dangerous deprivation of moral exercise. To be able to choose for oneself is a vitally necessary appliance in the moral gymnasium even if here and there one chooses wrong. It is a curious trend of thought of the day which proposes to cure social ills by weakening rather than by strengthening the in- dividual. If the state is to take care of me when I am sick or old or unem- ployed, it must necessarily deprive me of my liberty when I am well and young and busy, and thus make my very health a kind of sickness. If you will have freedom, you will have those who are ruined by it, just as if you will have social and political servitude, you will have a stodgy unindependent populace. The various forms of Labor Insurance alone in Germany cost the state over $250,000 a day... . No wonder that between the care of a grandmotherly state and the attentions of a subservient womankind the male population increases. . Nowhere has socialistic legislation been so cunningly and skilfully used for the enslavement of the people. No small part of every man’s wages is paid to him in insurance; insurance for unemployment, for accident, sickness and old age. There is but faint hope of saving enough to buy one’s freedom and if the slave runs away he leaves, of course, all the premiums he has paid in the hands of his master. The difficulties which beset the common man in trying to rise from his class—to enter one of the learned professions or the sublimated caste of the army—deter all but the most gifted from ambition for advance- ment. Only real genius for scholarship or for money-getting can break the bonds of caste. This system minimizes the miseries of poverty while at the same time it checks initiative and independent thought in the mass of the people. To say that “it solves the problem of poverty ” is to mistake veneer for reality. The body of the people under paternal dis- cipline in any country are miserably poor, and the lot of those outside ranks of skilled labor is pitiable in the extreme. There is no solution of the problem of poverty which takes away the need of each man to try to solve it for himself. There can be no true greatness of a state except through the great- ness of the human units for whose welfare the state should exist. The whole world suffers to-day from the domination of a great state over a people which has lost the power of self-direction and which has abdicated the duty of government, abandoning them to the will of a military aris- tecracy, whose chief concern is anything save the welfare of the people. The subordination of individual freedom to a prearranged efficiency naturally culminates in the organization of fluid force as military power, the extreme opposite to democracy. The individual under martial law has no opinions, no rights, no existence save as a fragment of humanity to be used by the state at its will. The soldier exists for war GOVERNMENTAL OBSTACLES TO INSURANCE ay and war is the failure of government in its highest functions. In the words of Havelock Ellis, To glorify the state is to glorify war, for there is no collective operation which can be so effectively achieved as war, and none which more conspicuously illustrates the sacrifice of the individual to the nation. It is for this reason that militarism has been through the ages the right arm of privilege as the state church, the form of religion which ignores the individual man, has always been its left arm. Writers of the day frequently contrast “ Germany’s success in solv- ing the problem of poverty ” with “the wretched condition of England’s poor.” It is said that “ England has the most ungrateful and laziest poor to be found in any land,” and these poor are said to be as unpatri- otic as they are lazy. They are blind, too, for the pauper vote of Eng- land is almost solidly opposed to the efforts of those who would use public action in betterment of their condition. From this it is argued that as England is a land of freedom while Germany is a land of efficiency, the ideals of freedom need reconsidera- tion in the direction of paternal discipline. Miss Prestonia Mann Martin observes: The two forms of government are to-day on trial. The watchword of demoe- racy is freedom. The watchword of paternalism is duty. Followed to their con- clusions, one leads to anarchy, the other to its opposite, socialism. One tends to decentralize government, the other to centralize it. One aims at individual inde- pendence, the other at national efficiency. One places the highest value upon freedom, the other sacrifices freedom for the sake of order, system, power, se- curity. This analysis is true, so far as it goes, but the end of democracy is not freedom, nor yet opportunity, the two meaning much the same thing. The ideal is also duty, but duty self-imposed, or arising from a feeling of the needs of society, not duty imposed from without. The need of Great Britain as I see it is not more governmental sys- tem. The “sodden misery of the London slums, the horrors of the black country,” the exhaustion of the countryside, the failure of the yeomanry, these call for more freedom, not for paternalism. “The inevitable toll of corruption and incompetence” is not a result of freedom. Its his- toric roots lie in the struggle for imperialism. They can never be ab- sent under any form of government, so long as men are greedy or in- competent. The predatory rich and the desultory poor occur under all forms of government, and in some fashion or other the one will feed on the other and both are parasitic on the common weal. The men who stand for more freedom in England are the men most eager to do away with needless misery and sorrow. The evils in British society are not results of democracy, but legacies of the era of aristocracy, 32 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY paternalism and imperialism. British polity still rests on inequality before the law. The statute of primogeniture thrusts the hated prin- ciple of precedence into every family. The state church discriminates against personal religion. The governmental effort not long ago to strengthen the landed aristocracy gave to England and Scotland their insoluble land problems. Only in very recent years has the free school found place in Great Britain. The holding of India at the public cost for private exploitation has enriched a very few at the expense of the very many. The wars in India and Africa exhausted in large degree the British yeomanry, while those whom war could not use slid down the line of least resistance into the slums of the great cities. There they have bred generations of like incompetents in an atmosphere of drink and vice. The young men of parts have been used and used up by the thousand in the colonial service. The weaker elements have multi- plied while fine strains have been destroyed. The liquor interests have filled Great Britain and Ireland with race poisons, and these in aristocratic times waxed so powerful that the dem- ocracy has as yet failed to dislodge them. In brief, the ills, political and social, of Great Britain have nowhere their origin in democracy, but in governmental abuses and inequalities against which British democ- racy, one of the strongest and most devoted of all world forces, is man- ~ fully struggling. And the most disastrous of all elements of evil, the war system, is wholly undemocratic. It has been brought on, not be- cause democracies are “loosely organized, careless and disorderly,” but because “compact brotherhoods which have been welded into a family- nation by the fostering care and the strict discipline of a paternalistic government” have become politically so incompetent that they are driven like sheep into a war which they did not want, which could bring them nothing but ruin and which in its inception and consummation constitutes in itself the most heinous crime ever perpetrated in the history of Christendom. And all this at the dictation of a very few men whom even yet the nation has failed to identify. When the whole story is told, the lesson we must read is that the remedy for the short- comings of freedom is more freedom, that personal initiative counts more, even in national enterprise, than any form of enforced efficiency, that the need of free states is not less freedom, but more justice, for justice sets men free, and that the worst possible test of a nation’s ereatness is found in the mischief she can do to her neighbors in blind leading of the blind to the field of battle. That battlefields still exist is due to the failure of justice and therefore of individual freedom. It is true, as has been stated, that State socialism as Germany is demonstrating demands the price and then de- livers the goods. But what terrible goods this system stands ready to deliver! GOVERNMENTAL OBSTACLES TO INSURANCE 33 The democratic discipline, self-imposed by men who think and act for themselves, is effective in making men, and it is the initiative of in- dividual men which makes and marks history. The social discipline which springs from individualism is effective in building up human society, and the inspiration which rises from the thought of cooperative help is the best antidote for the greed of un- checked and perverted individualism. The paternal discipline provides in its degree for material comfort and security. It takes away the necessary incentive to every man to solve his own problems. In a free state, the sober and honest working man should be free to abolish his own poverty, to enhance his own security or that of his family through insurance—or at his own discre- tion to let it alone. VOL. 11.—3. 34 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY DEFENDING AMERICA By WM. J. ROE NEWBURGH, N. Y. {Daa problem of discovering or inventing a method of preparation against aggression which shall be acceptable to the entire Amer- ican people is now presenting itself for solution with an insistence never before so strong or determined. Until in August a year ago the war- cloud broke over Europe, with the solitary exceptions of those versed in the swiftly increasing powers for defence and offence of the conti- nental nations, or aware of the continually strained racial relations, the average well-meaning citizen of the United States seemed fairly confident that something very like a millennial dawn had come. Good people, respectable, well educated, church members, in their way patri- otic, but a little over a year ago were saying to each other and some- times in print to other citizens, that the world had progressed too far along the broad highway of progress for anything like a great war again to disturb the repose of the nations. The recent records of South Africa and our own war with Spain these excellent people dismissed as mere incidents of a universal slowing down of humanity’s depraved instincts, or rather perhaps as “ growing pains” of the angel of peace. With all their education (for almost invariably these excellent theorists and impractical interpreters of principles which passed with them as “religious,” were “educated”) the philosophy of history and the rudimentary elements of psychology had taught nothing concern- ing the realities of the past or the prospects of immediate present or re- mote future. One would think that with the great European war a full year upon its course, with no end as yet in view upon the most optimistic horizon, these genial optimists would somehow or in some degree have revised their estimates of probability, or at least have de- voted some serious attention to those dilemmas of our past which when understood so completely refute the arguments of “peace at any price” idealists. | Unfortunately the hideous spectacle of the European conflict, in- stead of having turned the attention of the ultra-pacifists to the un- tenability of their amiable sophistries, seems to have greatly increased their ardor in the cause of pacification, and immeasurably to have in- tensified the clamor of ignorant opinion as to the method of insuring peace, Believing (with the astronomer) that it is only by determining points upon the orbit of the past that man is able to forecast at all the DEFENDING AMERICA 35 trajectory of the future, the sane peace lover calls attention to the inci- dents of our war for independence. “ Why!” the peace-at-any-price person responds, and sometimes with no little display of spirit, “ Why, my dear sir, that was a righteous struggle; the people rose like one man, and drove the tyrant from these shores.” It is in vain that you point to the fallacy of this harangue. It would of course be the rankest of heresies to claim—in spite of the lengthy list of iniquities in the pre- amble to our declaration—that George III. was not so much of a tyrant, after all, and that the war of liberation from British sovereignty was fought “on a preamble.” But this is true, nevertheless; the thir- teen colonies sought freedom because they were tired of being “ bossed.” They found pretexts for revolution in Patrick Henry’s “Give me lib- erty or give me death,” and in that excellent and serviceable aphorism ; “Taxation without representation is tyranny.” The people of the col- onies won their freedom, and used it to their hearts’ content to estab- lish states, which ever since have taxed unrepresented—or inadequately represented—sections, with hardly a murmur, certainly without a hint of revolution. But this is not the only—nor the worse—fallacy. The people rose like one man, did they? Most assuredly this was not all that hap- pened. They rose indeed, everywhere along the seaboard from the province of Maine to the far South; but it was like a mob they rose, untrained, insubordinate, in general fair marksmen, but for squirrels rather than men, splendid material for armies, but so ill disciplined— at least till Washington took them in hand at Cambridge—that their assemblages were more like training-day musters than the van of war. Great man as he was even Washington could hardly have succeeded in molding mobs into soldiers if his efforts had not been finely aided by those gallant Germans, Steuben, Pulaski and Du Kalb. Indeed the philosophical analysis of conditions resulting in final success of Amer- ican arms at Yorktown discloses most certainly that independence was due to three prominent factors: the gallantry and “ war-sense” of Benedict Arnold at Saratoga, bringing about Burgoyne’s surrender, and thereby the French alliance. Without that and the cordial aid of La Fayette, De Fleury, Rochambeau and others of that military na- tion, Cornwallis would doubtless have dealt with our forces on the York as easily and cleverly as he outflanked and outmanoeuvred Wash- ington at the Brandywine. And the war—so called—of 1812, what a wretched account of them- selves our hastily gathered land forces gave; with the single “saving grace” of New Orleans, fought after the war had ended, the records include merely a discreditable series of defeats, routs, retreats and sur- renders. Only the audacity and skill of an ill-prepared, manned and munitioned navy saved the country from total and irremediable dis- 36 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY aster. But fortunately the navy was audacious and skillful; it fought everywhere “to a finish,” gave us a very real standing upon the high seas, and as a priceless heritage the illustrious names of Decatur and Lawrence and Porter and Perry and MacDonough, and their many hardly less worthy subordinates. In Mexico, for the first time in our history (apart from the servy- ices of the few graduates of West Point, mainly utilized in the con- struction of fortifications in 1812-14) the country had the benefit of a large number of officers trained at the Military Academy in the science and art of warfare. Under the able leadership of Scott, Wool, Worth, and Harney these young “ graduated cadets’’ so efficiently led the few thousands, mostly volunteers, against a nation in arms, that peace was — achieved in a few months, which otherwise might have required many years. To recount the incidents of the opening of our great Civil War, or even to touch upon them with a too truthful pencil, would, it may not be doubted, in any other country in the world, be to awaken memories that had better be left to slumber and oblivion. But to Americans of to-day the horror and the gloom of half a century ago have passed forever; to us—South and North—the years when the land was “ drenched in fraternal blood” are no more than the wars of Marius and Sylla, or the roses—white and red—of the rival lines of Plantagenet. The peril of “ states dissevered, discordant, belligerent,’ was averted by force of arms. Arguments failed, or intensified the rancor; diplo- macy was unheeded, compromise scornfully rejected; there remained only force, the first appeal of passion met by the last resort of patriot- ism. Force succeeded, but at what a frightful cost! hundreds of thou- sands of lives, billions of money. It can not be said that surely all these expenditures might have been saved if in the year 1861 we had had a force of fifty thousand men in arms. But though such a force, guided by one calm cool head at Washington, might not have averted the conflict, the strong probabilities are that at least they would have served to give time for passions to subside, and for reason to resume her rightful sway. The almost total unpreparedness of our scant land forces at the outbreak of the Spanish war had the effect—temporarily at least—to call the attention of the nation to our deficiencies. For a time the glaring maladministration of military affairs of the department at Washington was a public scandal; that we won, and so quickly, was due largely of course to the very great efficiency of the small navy, but far more that the Spaniard, though passionate as he was valorous, was yet no fool; he recognized and accepted the inevitable, even though his forces in Cuba overmatched our own in numbers nearly sixfold. Since the peace of Paris our military affairs have been placed upon DEFENDING AMERICA 37 a basis far exceeding anything previously known to ensure efficiency, especially by the establishment of the General Staff, replacing former lax administration by a supervising authority, coordinating all branches of the service under a single responsible direction. Unhappily for the strength of our armament for defense on land, while there has been no increase of forces authorized by Congress, the necessity for an increase has come from the very considerable territorial expansion consequent upon the acquisition of the Philippines, Porto Rico, the Canal Zone, and the islands of the Pacific. Adequately to police these new posses- sions—saying nothing of their defense against possible foreign aggres- sion—would require an army very much larger than that now estab- lished by law. The American people as a whole are very easily scared (that is, startled), but very difficult to frighten (that is, to disturb by fear). To say this is in a way complimentary more to the value of our emo- tions than to our reason, for certainly the courage of the naturally timid and “nervous” is more commendable than the stolid bravery that merely lacks imagination. But it is unfortunate, for, as all of our emo- tions are designed for utility and not brutality, fright has its use in way of warning, distinctly notifying the frightened to take steps to avert the threatened danger. But Japan signified unmistakably her vexation, and Mexico her contempt, without arousing the American people to a consciousness of either possible peril or certain responsibility. We disregarded Japan’s grievance as of no real importance, and as for the Mexicans, knowing that from them was no danger of invasion, we have given absolutely no thought to what the future may disclose concerning our obligations as trustee according to the Monroe Doctrine to foreign powers. From this condition—a mingling of bravado, apathy and indiffer- ence—the great war in Europe has thoroughly aroused the American nation. All over the United States, from politicians, editors, essayists, “militarists,” and “peace-at-any-price” people, come addresses, pam- phlets, articles, serials professing to forecast perils from foreign inva- sion, while societies are being organized, some to stimulate interest in military affairs, and some to discourage such interest, even to the ex- tent of endeavoring to affix a stigma upon the soldier by ostracism and unpatriotic ditties denouncing him as a murderer. And this discordance is further complicated by varying opinions concerning the respective merits of the causes now rending the conti- nent of Europe, opinions for the most part expressed guardedly and with at least some consideration for others, but fixed in racial sympa- thies. At best the position of a neutral nation in any war of considerable magnitude is liable to become perilous, especially to a nation having an 38 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY extensive foreign commerce. We know what occurred over a century ago when Europe was overrun by the armies of Napoleon—that inter- national compacts were disregarded, the rights of neutrals ignored, and our own merchant marine threatened with annihilation by paper edicts. A similar process has already been begun across the Atlantic; already we have had thrust upon us a “Berlin decree” from Germany, and “Orders in council” from Great Britain. Doubtless the offense of Germany against the law of nations has been by far the most flagrant; but Great Britain—by interfering with the trade of one neutral nation with another—has exhibited a disregard of that law in relation to our trade with countries bordering upon Germany, which (notwith- standing our own precedents) has caused strenuous remonstrance. That both nations—with great civility and with deference to our colos- sal growth since 1800—set up as a plea in bar of action a necessity jus- tifying—or condoning—action, merely adds to the difficulties which already confront America, and which are certain to continue and in- crease as trouble-making incidents. As never before in our history we are surrounded by conditions and latent grievances liable at almost any moment to take on the shape of antagonisms. In venturing to point out—one by one—the chances of the future, it is not to invite unfriendly feeling towards our neighbor- ing nations, but solely that with calm dispassion we may view the facts, having always in mind that great certainty, that adequate prep- aration to repel an invader is better than enormous armaments to expel him. With Japan we need not, I think, concern ourselves unduly. This is not to minimize the danger of a disruption of friendly relations owing to further inimical legislation by states of the Pacific coast or to a possible attempt at colonization of lands theoretically under our pro- tection; but mainly that the Japanese are too poor and at the same time too clever seriously to incite our hostility. Poverty alone will never deter a high-spirited nation from seeking reprisals for real or fancied wrongs, and cleverness alone is apt to lead (as in the case of the German Kaiser) to over confidence in cleverness; but the two com- bined are fairly good safeguards against aggression. But it is not against the probable so much as the possible that Amer- ica ought to be prepared. In the present state of our defenses on both land and sea, war with Japan would mean the immediate loss of our Asiatic, and probably of our Pacific, possessions; the Philippines, with Samoa, Guam, and almost certainly the Hawaiian islands, would— temporarily at least—he lost to us. That they would not stay lost may be reckoned upon, and this is known to the keen intellect of the Jap- anese, perhaps even more thoroughly than to ourselves. But why should America depend upon the forbearance of an alien— DEFENDING AMERICA 39 however induced—for our first line of defense? specially is this un- desirable when already we possess outlying salients susceptible of being so fortified as virtually to insure us against invasion of our continental territory. Already we are fortifying Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, and it needs only similar fortifications of one of the Aleutian islands, with Guam and Samoa in the far southeast, with perhaps by treaty another base at the Galapagos, to establish bases for swift offense against the sup- plies of an Asiatic enemy and for protection of the Panama Canal. So protected by outlying fortresses having defensive relations, we should be virtually invulnerable from an Asiatic assault. As compared with the probable loot of an invader on the western coast the expense of con- structing and maintaining such defenses would be inconsiderable. Curious as it may seem, while invasion by a Mexican army is some- thing to be contemplated with complacence, the danger which may arise from that quarter is far more menacing. At the present moment of course the powers of western Europe have enough to do without seeking trouble in America. But suppose there had been no war to engage the attention of either Great Britain or Germany; is it likely that either country would have permitted the spoliation and murder of its citizens to go on as it has for several years, life and property at the mercy of one or the other of a number of irresponsible bandits ? Certainly that could not have been expected. With courteous diplo- macy no doubt, due deference being accorded to our Monroe doctrine, a demand in no uncertain terms would have come long before this; we should have been required either to “fish or cut bait”; either to act the part our doctrine clearly calls for of collecting agent, or to let the creditor do his own collecting unvexed. At the present time of writing signs are not lacking that the extra- ordinary patience heretofore held to by the administration at Washing- ton is on the verge of exhaustion. An endeavor has been made to secure the moral support of the stable South American countries in an appeal to the contending factions. Even yet it seems doubtful whether the only sort of action that can possibly be effective is contemplated ; more likely the policy of pottering procrastination will continue. The ultra peace lovers and optimists will tell you that there is no need of haste, assuring you that the close of the European war will find the nations so battered, so weary of strife, and so exhausted financially as to be unwilling or unable to turn their attention to the redress of wrongs suffered by their citizens in Mexico. Such imaginings are wholly erroneous; as never before will the armies of the victors in that great struggle be in shape for further conquests, while the very. fact of poverty will be merely an incentive to the replenishment of an ex- hausted treasury. When that day comes America will surely have to choose between war and humiliation. 40 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY These being the inevitable prospects of the future for the American people, certainly it becomes the duty of every thinking citizen to do his part, however insignificant, towards calling attention to the perils, not needlessly to alarm, but soberly, calmly, judiciously, not only to seek a permanent peace, but by far-sighted preparation for a war of strictest defense, to ensure it. Situated as America is, having an isolated continent virtually to itself, the problem of defense assumes a shape vastly different from that of one of the continental European nations, surrounded by coun- tries whose endemic jealousy is liable at any moment to become viru- lently epidemic. To a very large number of Americans, probably the great majority, the sudden and violent action of Germany last year seems cruelly and needlessly aggressive. This paper is not written to assail or to defend those actions, but it may be well, while criticizing, if you please, the violation of international law involved in the inva- sion of Belgium, to put yourself in Germany’s place, realizing, if that be possible, her dilemma, believing (as was certainly the case) that hostile Europe lay crouching ready to spring upon her. We know what hap- pened; Germany endeavored to forestall the attack by attacking first and fiercely. Assuming (though the assumption may be very far from correctly taken) the necessity imposed by an unavoidable antagonism, Germany’s action was not only logical, but was called for by the genius of the art of war. The method of that genius has been stated—having been quite erroneously credited to a distinguished Confederate—as “ getting there fustest with the mostest men.” A century ago the Atlantic ocean served as a very efficient rampart for resistance against an offensive movement; to-day, when an army could easily be transported to our coast within a month its merit as a first line of defense depends almost solely upon the floating force at our com- mand. In no event probably could any naval armament at our service wholly eliminate all danger of invasion; but to reduce this peril to a minimum, and to some extent to direct the course and point of attack, a very considerable addition to our present navy is not only desirable, but imperative. We need more battleships of the first class, we need swift cruisers, and lesser craft, for offence and for supply, and perhaps more than all, many—little and big—submarines. With an adequate force of all these, and (for both sea and land service) a host of all classes of air- craft, it may safely be said that the best has been done to avert the calam- ity of an assault from the high seas of an invader. In one respect America is singularly exposed; the vast preponder- ance of wealth lies directly upon our Atlantic frontier; Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Washington are all either directly on the seaboard, or within easy striking distance of some point of disem- barkation of an enemy. It is not difficult to forecast an invader’s inten- DEFENDING AMERICA 41 tion—to concentrate his force, for purposes of loot or ransom, against these rich nuclei of treasure. As on a preceding page I have pointed out the propriety of fortifying various islands of the Pacific ocean as the simplest and least expensive method of defense against an armed attack from the far Hast, so—for the best defense of our seaboard metropolitan cities—I wish most em- phatically to call renewed attention to the project (so long and so ably urged by the “ Atlantic Deeper Waterways Association”) of constructing ship canals capable of passing the heaviest battleships, between existing navigable channels “from Boston to Beaufort” and beyond. Especially should there be deep waterways from Boston—inland—to Narragansett Bay; thence back of Point Judith to connect with Long Island Sound (defended by a powerful work to be constructed on Block Island) ; again via the Kill-van-Kull and across the state of New Jersey, to the Delaware, and, more important still, across the Maryland-Delaware peninsula to deep water in the Chesapeake bay. The great fortification planned and now in process of construction opposite Cape Henry at the entrance to the Chesapeake will eventually tend to safeguard that extensive inland sea and the cities of Baltimore and Washington. With an artificial channel adequately defended from the upper Chesapeake to the Delaware, the extreme danger of an enemy’s establishing a base somewhere on the Chesapeake (most available of all locations) could probably be prevented. The general purpose and necessary brevity of this paper precludes anything like a detailed statement of the present inadequacies in way of land defenses of our cities and harbors. On the supposition that our seagoing defenders have been baffled in their endeavor to prevent an enemy from landing upon our coast, and establishing there his base, from which he proposes to advance, it may be well in as few words as possible to outline the composition of our land force upon which—and now upon which alone—we must rely, either to drive the enemy back whence he came or at least to prevent the destruction or spoliation of our great cities. The personnel of the land defense divides naturally into these gen- eral classes: the stationary defenders (consisting at present of 170 com- panies of an authorized strength of 104 men each) who man the seacoast batteries, the “mobile army,” the “supply,” and the “transportation.” The bulk of a “mobile army” consists of infantry, that is of bodies of men, divided into companies, battalions, regiments, brigades, divisions, and army corps, who rely—as final resort—upon their own legs to carry them into action; of field artillery, armed with large-caliber, long-range guns, smaller “ mountain guns,” with “ machine guns” the latter usually attached to the infantry, but which may be drawn as the others are by horses or mules, together with their attendant “ limbers” and “ caissons ” carrying the immediate supplies of ammunition. Besides these arms is ae THE SOLENTIFIC MONTHLY the cavalry, differing but slightly in training and arms except that they are mounted, Whose purposé¢ is ordinarily scouting in small detached bodies, or—should such action become desirable—for raids on a large scale, or even, in some contingency quite remote in modern warfare, for a charge en masse. In addition to these three branches of the service of an active army— infantry, cavalry and field artillery, a number of auxiliary troops are required to make up a complete and efficient fighting force. The engi- neers make and repair roads and bridges, construct earthworks and lay pontoon bridges when required; the signal corps, the aviators, the med- ical department, and the quartermaster corps, having in charge all matters pertaining to the feeding, tenting, paying, transporting, and clothing of the troops. There are’also other staff departments, con- sisting of officers only, who are charged with details of administration. While the questions of supply and transportation of a mobile army fall naturally and mainly upon the quartermaster and his assistant offi- cers and the men of their command, many other considerations enter into the carrying out of the various problems as they arise. Not the least of the perils which might arise from invasion is that almost all the sources of arms and munitions in this country are located not very far from the Atlantic coast, and so within striking distance of an invader. Upon our Ordnance Department rests the responsibility of making and supplying guns, cannon, machine-guns, and small-arms, as well as ammunition—explosives and projectiles of all kinds. The arsenals and armories under the control of the War Department are even now, and would be of course to a greater extent in time of actual war, supplemented by the output of private concerns. Thus theoretically may be described the essential elements of Amer- ica’s defense against a possible future assault by an enemy having a measurable command of the high seas sufficient to convoy in safety ade- quate armed forces in strength and numbers really threatening. For the purpose of repelling such an invasion, not only should all of our seacoast forts be manned and officered by a largely increased number of technically trained artillerists, but the fortifications—especially those guarding the approaches to the great cities—should be vastly strength- ened—single forts and batteries united in a continuous line of defensive relations, in effect converting scattered groups of isolated works into one scientifically planned fortress. Doubtless at the first sign of rect threatening word from Washington, flashing over the wires, would send local commanders to the task of further fortifying in earnest. But the conviction can not be escaped that such hasty preparation would come too late. As for that “mobile army” which has been briefly described, in gen- eral terms this should be distributed perhaps into say three or four grand divisions ; one somewhere in the far-south, located so as best to defend DEFENDING AMERICA 43 the Texan frontier and the Gulf ports; one somewhere not far from Washington; another probably near Trenton, N. J., and still another at some point in New England about equidistant between Boston and New York. Each section of the active army should be composed of every element, should have at easy command both material and per- sonnel for replenishment of inevitable losses, and each should be so located that by railway and highway and perhaps waterway lines prompt and decisive access to the enemy’s landing place might be effected; be ready in short not to await the initiative, but to take it. To write in this lofty way of fortresses and armies, and of taking initiatives with a view to driving an enemy promptly from our territory, must, I am well aware, appear quite ludicrous to military men. With a force of coast artillery wholly inadequate already, and a “ mobile” force so tiny as to be utterly meaningless, to speak of defense, much less of victory, seems like very real mockery. ‘To-day (I have no hesitation in saying) if any one single European power of the first class sought war with the United States, and was left unimpeded by any other great power, this country, in spite of its wealth, its numbers, its patriotism, would be hopelessly helpless. The saying has been credited, I know not how truly, to a very honest, very religious, but very misguided politician, that in the event of a for- eign power seeking to subjugate us, a million armed men would spring up over night to defend our beloved country, and to drive the foe from our shores. Such “spread-eagle” declamation may sound well in a Fourth-of-July speech, but practically it signifies worse than nothing. You may remember that when Julius Cesar had crossed the Rubicon, and was advancing upon Rome his rival Pompey said to the populace: “Give yourselves no concern, Quirites, Rome is quite safe; all I have to do is to stamp my foot and many legions will arise to meet and vanquish Cesar.” Most of the Roman citizens were well enough satisfied with this; they said to one another that Pompey was a great man, at least that he was a lover of peace, and had a fine gift for phrase-making. But before long news came that Cesar had taken Corfinium and captured the army of Domitius. So the citizens came again—this time in a hurry—to Pompey’s house, to say: “ You promised to provide legions to defend us from Cesar by stamping your foot; we merely wish to say that the time has come to stamp.” Pompey was very polite to his callers, and re- plied that he would see that something was done; but nothing was, and when next we hear of Pompey it was as a fugitive from Pharsalia. The analogy of the above anecdote is defective in several particulars ; our people are by no means as ignorant or as apathetic as the Romans were, and certainly few of them have any sort of confidence that a de- fending army can be raised over night. In fact it is not the lack of stamping that is the trouble (for everybody seems busily engaged at 44 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY that), but that no one appears to have stamped for exactly the right thing, or at least not in exactly the right way. Some—the so-called ultra “militarists””—are demanding an immediate and huge standing army; some—the extreme “ pacifists”—claim that a policy of complete non-resistance is the one most likely to be effectual. These good people quote the saying of the Master moralist of all time, as to his duty who is smitten upon the one cheek to turn the other also, forgetting that it was said as strenuously and by the same authority: “ How can one enter into a strong man’s house and spoil his goods except he first bind the strong man!” And between the extremes of “militarism” and “ peace-at-any- price” how many varieties of urgent opinion are voicing their views! Some advocate compulsory teaching of tactics in the schools, some have. great hopes from “boy scouts,’ some, scandalized at the idea of any increase in the regular army—as likely to “imperil our liberties ”— would be glad to see the militia of the several states amplified to almost any extent, and some, good citizens, having the welfare of the country at heart, establish drill organizations, learning something while having an enjoyable outing. Not one of all these notions and experiments but has in it elements of value, and no one would seek to disparage them; but in fact, in the event of a real war suddenly thrust upon us, all of these put together, including even those “continentals” now recommended to Congress, would hardly prove a feather’s weight towards that dynamic force which alone could suffice for defense. Probably the method and purpose of the organizations known as “'The American Legion” and the “ National Security League” whose headquarters are in New York City, are more likely to prove efficient as an auxiliary toa national army rightly recruited, organized, and officered, than all other adjuncts or volunteer aids combined. The question of establishing an armed land force sufficiently numer- ous to repel any invasion at all likely to threaten the country must be considered from two different standpoints; first, as to what may be done by Congress under the constitution and the laws, and, second, what is feasible in view of the traditions of the American people and their evident distrust of any considerable “standing army.” The constitution gives to congress the right to raise and support, govern and regulate an army, of which the president shall be commander- in-chief. Inasmuch as no limitation is placed upon the size of the army, manifestly it is within the legal powers of Congress to call every able-bodied citizen to serve as a soldier—to adopt if it sees fit the abso- lute militaristic system common to the countries of continental Europe, a system which finds perhaps its best illustration of combined efficiency and expediency in the military administration of the Swiss republic. Included also among the powers expressly delegated to Congress is that which gives the right of “organizing, arming, and disciplining the DEFENDING AMERICA 45 militia” and for employing these state forces in the service of the nation. The sole restriction upon federal authority over state troops when called into active service is that to the states is reserved the right to designate the officers and to do their own training subject to congressionally pre- scribed methods of discipline.* Manifestly it would be quite impracticable to introduce the Swiss system in its entirety into this country. The people would not submit to so radical an alternative, and again such a huge force, even if it could be officered, supplied or transported, would be too cumbersome and unwieldy for anything like efficiency. Our total present force consists of about 90,000 regular troops, and something over 100,000 militia all told, in all subject to the call of Congress and the President to-day, almost exactly 200,000 men under arms. Between this force and a “levy en masse” the golden mean of availability must therefore be found. That “volunteering” can be seriously relied upon to furnish a competent army of defense must be dismissed as untenable, if only because of the time required to convert an “armed mob” however patriotic, into veteran troops. Having in view all the circumstances, conditions, resources and prospects—most of which have been at least touched upon, however lightly in this paper, it will be for the president to recommend and for Congress to enact such measures as shall most surely guarantee to America that assurance of safety from aggression which just dealing and diplomacy may go far towards effecting, but which an armed force of suitable strength, well armed and munitioned, and ably led alone can insure. The virtually unanimous opinion of military men, founded upon the known results of practical experience of foreign countries and with our own army, and modified by an intelligent understanding of democratic needs and prejudices, is convincing that Congress should provide forth- with somewhat as follows: - I. For a very considerable increase of the coast artillery, the total, officers and men, to aggregate nearly if not quite 50,000. II. Providing for an increase of the present mobile force—infantry and cavalry—the total to be not less than 150,000 and perhaps need not be more than 200,000. The grand total of the regular army to be from 200,000 to 250,000, preferably the larger aggregate. III. Providing for an enlistment period which may be approximately eight years, of which two or three shall be with the colors—that is in active service, the balance of the enlistment period to be with the reserve, subject however always to rejoining the colors. These reserves to be adequately paid, but unrestricted as to occupation. IV. Providing for prompt expansion of the active army in case of 1See Constitution, Article No. I., §§ 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, and 16, and Article No. II., Section 2, § 1; also Amendment No. IT. 46 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY necessity, not by creating new organizations (of reserves or volunteer recruits), but by incorporating the reserves immediately, and the vol- unteers when sufficiently trained, with existing units of service. V. Providing for an increase in number of officers; this to be by adding to the number of cadets at the Military Academy, and by com- missioning such graduates of colleges and universities with the higher class of private schools, as may be proficient in an established military course directly under authority of the War Department. VI. Providing for the accumulation of stores of war-material of every kind at depots to be established at inland points, easily accessible by ourselves for distribution, and easily defensible from an enemy. VII. Providing for strict regulations by which the militia of the several states may more readily and ‘efficiently become incorporated with the regular forces in time of emergency. It is also suggested and urged that state constabularies relieve the militia from ordinary police duties. The details of method for the carrying out of these and other only less essential provisions should be left largely to a board to consist of chairmen of committees of the House and Senate most directly interested, the secretaries of war and the navy, and those officers of high rank in both services whose position and experience qualify them to suggest or de- cide between expedients. While undoubtedly the considerable increase of the army as above outlined would add largely to the expense, several methods of economy may be suggested. That provision concerning length of service as ap-’ plied to the land forces in general might be materially modified by the establishment of more permanent garrisons “beyond seas”; and a large saving in the item of transportation could be effected by local recruiting. Heretofore, owing to the demands of political expediency numerous small posts, which have long outlived their usefulness, have continued to be garrisoned, entailing in the aggregate a large drain upon funds and men, for both of which better use could be found at stations more suitable, especially for the practise of regimental and brigade evolutions. Within recent years the quality of men accepted by recruiting officers has very greatly improved; it is suggested that the localizing method of enlistment and the feature of the reserve might still further assist to increase the character, stability and permanency of the men-in-the-ranks. It would be a wise measure to afford to young enlisted men very greatly increased opportunities to attain commissioned rank, and if inclination led and natural ability permitted, that many such should find the way open to making their country’s defending a life career. For the so-called “ scientific corps ”—the engineers, the ordnance, and the artillery—long and arduous training is required ; but for the line—foot and horse troops two years or so of due diligence is sufficient. Here the extremely high standard of education at West Point could well be modified. Moral character, physical stamina, a fair general education, with natural capac- DEFENDING AMERICA 47 ity for command and willingness to obey; these furnish an ample foun- dation for the sort of training qualifying for commissioned rank in the line. For advancement to higher grades in the service the experience of the war-between-the-states testifies that time may be trusted to provide its sure tests of merit quite irrespective of that detriment to efficieney— the handicap of seniority as determining promotion. To make provision for establishing “peace on earth and good will” between nation and nation is no more vital to-day than it has been since first the interests and passions of men began to call for enlightened self- control. And to provide for defense against a world mad with murder, abandoning its own mutual guarantees of civilization is now hardly more essential than it has been for many decades. But the recent shameless spectacle of reversion to barbarism exhibited to-day in Europe and on the high seas has aroused attention to our weakness as never before. It is no fit reply to those who announce the necessity of adequate preparation to ery that war is barbaric. It is barbaric; but so long as barbarians remain upon the earth, it will be the duty of enlightenment to provide safeguards against them. 48 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY | THE YOUNGER GENERATION OF AMERICAN GENIUS By Proressor SCOTT NEARING TOLEDO UNIVERSITY 1. THe Group UNDER FORTY-FIVE STUDY? of the first ten thousand American-born persons whose names appeared in “ Who’s Who in America” for 1912-13 showed beyond any reasonable question that up to that time New England had made a contribution of eminent Americans far out of proportion to her population. This fact held true for New England as a whole. Fur- thermore, the number of distinguished persons per one hundred thou- sand of population was larger in every New England state than in any other state in the union. So decisive was the advantage of New Hng- land that Rhode Island, the New England state with the lowest propor- tion of distinguished persons per one hundred thousand of population, was 30 per cent. above New York, the state which, outside of New England, had the highest proportion of distinguished persons per one hundred thousand of population. The ten thousand persons considered in this first study were for the most part well along in life. Only one in a hundred was born since 1880; only fourteen in a hundred were born since 1870. More than a quarter of the eminent persons were born before 1850, making them at least sixty-two years old. The tables showed, clearly enough, that the advantage of New Eng- land over other sections of the country decreased in later decades. Among the eminent persons born before 1850, 30 per cent. were born in New England, which in 1850 reported but 11.8 per cent. of the total population of the United States; whereas for the decade 1880-89 the proportion of eminent persons born in New England was 12 per cent., as compared with 7.5 per cent. of the population reported from that section. Certain critics insisted: That proves the point, the position of New England as the mother of Ameri- can genius is on the wane. Make a study of the group born since 1870, the people who are under forty-five, and you will see the difference. This is the study. During the first three quarters of the nineteenth century, a number of distinguished men out of all proportion to her population was born 1‘*The Geographical Distribution of American Genius,’’ Scott Nearing, The Popular Science Monthly, August, 1914. AMERICAN GENIUS 49 in New England. Next to New England, the Middle Atlantic and the East North Central states had a considerable lead over the remainder of the country. Was this lead of the northeast section of the United States due to some special advantage that inhered in the race-stock, the climate, the educational facilities, or some like features; or to the mere momentum of tradition and established prestige? Such a question can not be answered categorically, but an analysis of the younger group of distinguished Americans will show whether the tendencies noted in the previous study are so evidently casting laurel wreaths at the feet of New England. 2. THE PLACE OF BIRTH New England can not claim the same overshadowing position in the production of genius in the younger generation that so clearly be- longed to her in the earlier decades. While her position is still good, it is far from commanding. The figures? have been compiled first according to geographical area. The 2,000 distinguished persons are distributed over nine groups of states. The largest number come from the Middle Atlantic states; the smallest from the Mountain states. TABLE I NUMBER AND PER CENT. OF EMINENT PERSONS BORN IN THE VARIOUS GEOGRAPHIC DIvISIONS OF THE UNITED STATES, WITH THE PER CENT. OF THE TOTAL POPULATION OF THE UNITED STATES IN HACH DIVISION IN 1880 Distinguished Persons Per Cent. of the ~, r Total Population Siete shag Number Per Cent. in 1880 VG Woe RIS Pears Clagett c) ate oS ere, cxe\ledo/eleue diane ovale ol aya-ae 331 16.6 8.1 Mid levA tate States, o/s cinieero<, atocary cows ene 503 25.1 20.9 Hast Northv@entraliStates: 4... 6 10.3 SSA VAM be teeere araitaiel srstn seeker cust eiehe.'s ove isiayn © aie 3 10.8 IDNR eS Ae OOOO AOR OTE aie aeroe 9 11.3 IPTOVIGCUCOME IG Cire ic Sicko oleic rata cle ieee eis Yel 12 11.4 IN GV RI ey Peta Tayet oo acisrs ei-venesladcne, erento sais cecs\yexger sole 14 13.4 HVE RE Bie Bese -ie cts swe je se So oom Bie) S15 Hs 45 15.1 itary GIy) dig sag be ado doGEDO a Gono dou 5 15.4 ING W PETA VOTE eT eeetoiss sects) ces shauslnyelesexe crevsliovelstevepaneliets 8 15.7 PS OSLOTI Pedro voy cts lat alos one ecole e Telelio lation torsion ate te 41 16.3 Partner h jb Lacon la os ekernwet See 6 BW PY 6 AT GEORG Gc eryekeh ete Sink ayauev 9 fosenclsts ayelay siele ete ete tf 18.9 MNES MNO: > otic Boom Ses agonQAp en agUDedas 36 20.2 Myris OP ecadeleetetsieke 15. ions, cievele are oie eye) Silesia isisiole if 24.8 Columbus cae iersies iets oie ss ivieterewsl spate wine iste 8 25.6 IN ashivillledereccoptntsiers s: #1 sycietele. o ciate tleye ticle ersheus ions 9 34.7 Gan TAM Gurnee yes ce cid che a0 tiple mieislecee poart do 47.5 a position of importance. Thus the leading city is in Massachusetts; the second most prominent city is in Tennessee. Most of the cities are, of course, taken from the northern tier of the country, because most of the cities of the country are in this tier; but the southern section in proportion to the number of its cities is well represented. The proportion of eminent persons born in cities seems to be higher in the later than in the earlier decade. Thus in the decade from 1870 to 1879, 31.3 per cent. of the total distinguished persons were born in the cities; and in the next decade, 1880 to 1889, 36.5 per cent. were born in cities; while the only two persons born between 1890 and 1899 whose names appear in “ Who’s Who in America” were of city origin. The supremacy of the cities over the rural districts is well illus- trated by a consideration of the relation existing between place of birth and occupation. It should be borne in mind that the 50 cities which reported a population of 25,000 or over in 1870 contained about one seventh of the total population of the country in that year. The per cent. of city-born persons in certain occupations appears in the follow- ing table: AMERICAN GENIUS 53 TABLE IV NuMBER AND PER CENT. OF EMINENT PERSONS, CLASSIFIED BY OCCUPATIONS, WHO WERE BORN IN CITIES Occupations Total Persons Born in Cities dag Soa FAIMOCCUDAUIODSI. *..0-0.s san cic, bie sre 2,000 640 32.0 PPELUOELONS ig. acceso 0\ er ala'ssiepatee hate 467 117 25.0 PUI GIOLE Ss heciods ova 'euea:o cra ainionacsee werite 232 91 39.2 Public Office Holders........... 216 58 26.9 PUMGRUTIS OS ets, ure) a. o: sere ora llgeetere arenes: 241 60 24.9 IBusmess! MON. <6. Sica Fe ciciareeta Sie teteters eet eevee clonal are 102 5.1 AIR oy ON 42 ssc tt cer eree tea otk aisle lee aie ater 68 3.4 Miscellaneous) saccasc tees ces © eales 255 12.7 otal wos heer oaater eee oe: 2,000 100.0 professions—lawyers, doctors and clergymen. These three groups, with the journalists, make up a less percentage than the educators alone. The real surprise in the occupation figures arises out of a comparison between the occupations of the persons of all ages, studied in the “ Who’s Who” for 1912-13, and the persons born since 1869, included in the present study. Some of the differences existing between the two groups are striking. TABLE XI Perr CENT. OF PERSONS IN VARIOUS OCCUPATIONS AS APPEARING IN ‘‘WHO’S WHO’’ For Two PERIODS OF TIME First 10,000 Native- First 2,000 Persons born Persons in Native-born Since **Who’s Who” 1869, ** Who’s Who”’ 1912-13 1914-15 ENTATICA LOLA sors sieicie ccs olar crete a oes a ctaveresietd wale 19.3 23.4 NEEL WV GLEN eet tretoce arch ai slabs feveiet site Susie"'el Sey scaveia ate 13.6 6.9 Eaplicn@tice: Holders) 2.)s cc oe teri ne ee ae isis 10.8 IBUSINGHAE MOTE ete sero ois Aare eek eee 9.9 7.8 SANT EN OES MEER tere cite: cFeiniele olor ole Tbe 9.1 11.6 Clare yalieie gor ah sve cl olainis ess nev ataerad o'ia sie 7.3 3.4 WD OCECES MI epee iets. ain re inte rae tos 6.2 yal SCLENSESM a Teter toes oe eoles ace le ctieetier 6.1 12.1 J OUTUANATS esate ys ree ora ieee Re ees 6.0 6.2 Mascellaneousa ae sentir ee eee 9.0 12.7 Relat sa tees Soya aay | e's: 100.0 100.0 The gains are made by educators, authors and scientists. Scien- tists, in particular, have doubled their percentage. The greatest decline is shown by clergymen and by lawyers. It seems a little surprising that there should have been a decrease in the proportion of business men, There is always a possibility that the method of selecting names for the “ Who’s Who” volume may have changed of late years in a way to place greater emphasis on some occupations, and less on others. At 58 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY — the same time, daily experience verifies most of the showings made by these figures. Apparently, community leadership expresses itself through the pro- fessions, preeminently. At the same time, during recent years there is a rapidly changing significance in professions. Educators, scientists, authors, public officials and business men now make up the body of leadership. The old-time learned professions comprise a comparatively small element in the whole group of distinguished Americans. 6. Tue Sex oF DISTINGUISHED AMERICANS The most impressive fact which the study of sex distribution among distinguished Americans brings to light is the phenomenally small proportion of women whose names are included. Among the first 2,000 names of American-born persons appearing in “ Who’s Who in Amer- ica,” only 169 are the names of women. There is no section of the country in which the number of women approaches that of men. There is considerable variation. The number of women per hundred men is higher in the west than in the east, and higher in the north than in the south. At the same time the ratio is at best extremely low. TABLE XII Sex DISTRIBUTION AMONG THE YOUNGER GENERATION OF DISTINGUISHED AMER- ICANS By GEOGRAPHIC AREAS fot Total Men Women bs a ae _ a Pep, fa dhaved bot UCI) ot pros Oh enc ALC 331 292 39 13 Middle Atlantic States............ 503 453 50 11 East North Central States......... 480 448 32 ¥ West North Central States......... 235 222 13 6 Saji antes) nly as a Pee ene 226 214 12 6 East South Central States......... 108 100 8 8 West South Central States......... 40 34 6 17 DM onsitain bated inate ie terete osc o/e'e's 26 24 2 8 Parmho States: Manca e ace vin stele (e ks 51 44 of 16 OLAS Coe Gc ti iia Rate vice 2,000 1,831 169 9 The names of women appear very unequally in the various occu- pations. The women listed among the first 2,000 names in “ Who’s Who” constitute 8.4 per cent. of the whole. There are four occupations as classified in Table XIII. for which the distinguished women are prac- tically non-existent, and two others in which they make but a sorry showing. Lawyers, business men, public office holders and clergymen include 57% men, or 32 per cent. of the total number of distinguished men. ‘The same four occupations report 1 woman, or 0.5 per cent. of AMERICAN GENIUS 59 the distinguished women. Add to these four occupations doctors and scientists, and the aggregate of the six occupations is 915 (50 per cent. of all distinguished men). The same six occupations report only 6 (3.5 per cent.) of the distinguished women. The six occupations— lawyers, business men, public office holders, clergy, doctors, and scien- tists—report 915 distinguished men and 6 distinguished women—a ratio of 0.6 women to 100 men. TABLE XIII Sex DistrIBuTION oF First 2,000 AMERICAN-BORN PERSONS APPEARING IN ‘*WHo’s WHO’’ For 1914-15 WHO HAVE BEEN BORN SINCE 1869—By OccuPATION Occupation Total Men Women RW VOLS Lio soos) oa wc cteha tte ore 139 138 1 AUCH LOLS i a.n.tho hace mors ote ettreintehe 467 450 alZ RTISITIORS cfs src eia cee ta Wee te atate 156 156 — RCHENLINGDS oats ors da arate o's epee 241 238 3 SETOTNIOH:, ti5 be seine sins a Oyeere ars 68 68 — TATE GES Pe aon syaichs. 2 ale elec acio ela t 232 1b yvA 75 Public Office Holders........... 215 215 — RRGEINIISEHISUSe © Sey. Rey ahae steps siete 125 117 8 PIONEER Pore oicie lo are sisictntelaehelsiniere 102 100 2 PUHLASERS ESE Seth My gete See oR an 42 16 26 NAGROEM ENCOUN toilet fait eicte eo eyee tee 213 176 37 “G17 lS a Pa A DARE Ra) coe 2,000 1,831 169 The great bulk of the distinguished women listed among the first 2,000 native-born persons in “ Who’s Who” are educators, authors or actresses. These three occupations, with 623 distinguished men (34 per cent. of the total number), have 118 distinguished women (70 per cent. of the total number). In these three occupations, therefore, the ratio of women to men is 1 to 5. The one occupation of considerable magnitude in which women ap- proach men is that of author. Of the 232 authors listed among the first 2,000 American-born persons in “ Who’s Who,” 75 (32 per cent.) are women. At the same time, the 75 women authors comprise almost one half of all of the distinguished women whose names appear in “ Who’s Who.” This showing takes on peculiar significance in view of the fact that until within the last thirty or forty years women were practically excluded from law, public office, the ministry, medicine and higher edu- cation, while they were admitted with some degree of freedom to the fields of education and journalism, and could not, in the very nature of the case, be excluded from authorship. It may be true, as some stu- dents urge, that women are peculiarly adapted to emotional activities, of which certain lines of literary achievement are typical. At the same time, the searcher after truth may point with equal justification to the 60 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY fact that women occupy a position commensurate with that occupied by men in the one profession where they have been given an opportunity. The figures dealing with the decade of birth lend emphasis to the idea that the failure of women to attain positions of distinction has been due, in the past, to the restriction in opportunity. Women have been free to enter upon careers that led to public dis- tinction only within the past thirty or forty years. Extensive higher education for women does not date back more than twenty or twenty- five years. TABLE XIV Sex DISTRIBUTION OF First 2,000 Prrsons IN ‘‘WHO’s WHO IN AMERICA’’ (1914-15) WHO HAVE BEEN BORN SINCE 1869 Decade | Total Men | Women bbe 2 1870-79 | 1,771 1,638 133 8 1880-89 297 192 35 18 Born since 1890 | 2 1 1 100 Total: 4 eee ee Att) 1,831 169 9 Among the distinguished persons born between 1870 and 1879 there are only 8 women per hundred men. In the next decade this number increases to 18, more than double; and in the last decade, where of course the figures are so few as to be wholly undependable, the ratio is even. The later figures will undoubtedly show an increase in the ratio of women to men. 7. CONCLUSIONS The facts regarding the place and time of birth, education, occupa- tion and sex of the younger generation of distinguished Americans lead to some rather significant conclusions. New England, though no longer supreme, is still distinctly in the ascendant as a producer of American leadership. The leadership comes out of the cities to a far greater degree than it does from rural districts. In certain cities, like Cam- bridge and Nashville, the fecundity in distinguished persons is excep- tional. Among the persons listed in “Who’s Who” who were born after 1869, the great majority were born in the decade 1870-79. The younger generation of distinguished Americans consists almost wholly of college graduates. In the list of colleges which have educated these distinguished persons, certain institutions, notably Harvard and Yale, stand out preeminently as trainers of leadership. The old learned pro- fessions—law, medicine and the ministry—are losing very rapidly in favor of science and education. There has been a revolution in the source from which community leadership is secured. The younger generation of distinguished Americans is overwhelmingly male; only a AMERICAN GENIUS 61 few women have pushed into the ranks, and they are found in only three professions. The tendencies which were noted in the earlier study of distin- guished Americans appear in this later study—some less, and some more marked. Leadership arises even in this last generation from one half of the population, the men; from one small group of the population, the college-bred ; from one small geographic area, the northeastern sec- tion of the United States; from one small group of occupations, the professions. 62 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY MUSEUM FATIGUE By BENJAMIN IVES GILMAN BOSTON MUSEUM OF FIND ARTS, BOSTON, MASS. fh HE museum in which the photographs here reproduced were taken no longer exists; but the conditions depicted are still well-nigh universal. 'The museum was the first Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, of which the present great structure on the Fenway became in 1909 the successor. The conditions are those resulting from the type of museum case and of museum installation widely accepted as standards among us. The photographs were taken with the object of determining by actual observation just what kinds and amount of muscular effort are demanded of the visitor who endeavors to see exhibits as museum au- tharities plan to have them seen. “Museum fatigue” is an admitted evil, hitherto tacitly accepted as admitting only relief. May not a study of how it comes about suggest some means of prevention? The method adopted in the inquiry was the following. A series of simple questions was devised relating to certain objects mostly installed at higher or lower levels and in cases ; and an observer was photographed in the act of answering them. The observer, an intelligent man with good eye-sight, and well accustomed to museums and their contents, was instructed to answer the questions with the least possible exertion and to hold the positions he needed to assume for the purpose until he could be photographed. The pictures obtained indicate that an Paced amount of physical effort is demanded of the ideal visitor by the present methods in which we offer most objects to his inspection. It is at once evident that these methods form an effective bar to the adequate fulfilment by museums of the public function they aim to perform. Not even the hardiest sight-seer will long go through with the contortions which the pictures indicate are needed for any comprehension of much of what we display to him. After a brief initial exertion he will resign himself to seeing practically everything imperfectly and by a passing glance. If the public is to gain more than a minute fraction of the good from museum exhibits which is theirs to give and which now can be gained by the private student, radical changes in our methods of exhibition are im- perative. As at present installed, the contents of our museums are in large part only preserved, not shown. Indeed, we may even go further and claim that in some proportion of the objects put on public view in every museum the qualities for which they are shown are rendered wholly invisible by the way they are shown. They are so placed and in such lighting that it is a physical MUSEUM FATIGUE 63 impossibility by any exertion of limb or eye to descry the particular characteristics to which they owe their selection for show. This is literally an absurd state of things; yet there would be little risk in of- fering to point out to any museum curator objects so concealed by their installation in his own museum. On the other hand, a proportion of the objects in every museum may be adequately seen without any marked exertion. ‘These are the in- stances in which objects are installed approximately on a level with and near to the eye of the visitor as he stands upright before them. They constitute a minor fraction of museum installations, and are not repre- sented in the accompanying illustrations. Our present purpose is to inquire into the larger proportion of instances in which adequate seeing demands exertion. The questions and answers here follow, grouped according to the types of attitude represented in the illustrations. The cases called floor cases are from six to seven feet high, two and one half to three feet broad, five feet long, with a main floor at about thirty inches from the ground, and supported either on legs or on a closed lower com- partment. These pictures indicate that the principal sources of that part of museum fatigue which comes from muscular effort to see objects well are two: (1) low installations in upright cases; (2) broad installations in flat or desk cases. High installation may put objects out of sight, but is a minor source of fatigue; while to bring the eye within seeing distance of low shelves is apt to demand bending the knees; and the effort to see objects at the back of wide desk or flat cases requires bend- ing at the hips. The pictures indicate further two ways in which ob- jects may be exhibited in museum cases so as to make invisible some or all of the features which warrant their exhibition. They may, first, be concealed in part by others. They may, second, be placed too far back from the glass to be seen in the necessary detail. The effort of the eye muscles can not be directly shown in pictures, but is evidently consid- erable and may be hopeless. The inferences are that museum fatigue would be greatly helped were upright cases to stand higher, flat and desk cases to be made nar- rower, and all cases shallower from front to back. This shallowing would put an end to the concealment of one object by another by putting an end to the exhibition of multiple rows of objects on the same shelf. All cases would be single row cases. The shallowing would further bring all the contents of a case within the limits of close scrutiny. These inferences from the present experiment may be made more pre- cise by others based on measurements of the human body and of the contents of museum shelves. Estimating the height of the average visitor at sixty-three inches, his eye will be about sixty inches above 64 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY I. Bent. Fic. 1. Object—An Egyptian panel about six inches square set upright be- tween two jars on a pedestal in the cen- ter of a floor case. Question.—What is the material of this panel? Answer.— Wood. Fic. 3. Object—A print displayed in a desk case. @Q.—What are these chil- dren running away from? A.—A dog. (a) Hands behind back. Fic. 2. Object.~ -Chinese bronze mir- rors exhibited in a wall case. @.—De- scribe the pattern of one of the mirrors in the lowest row. A.—A central knob in a square, with knobs about and other patterns. (b) Hands on knee or otherwise sup- ported. Fic. 4. Object.—An Egyptian statu- ette of gold, about three inches high, on a stand on the center pedestal of a floor case, behind an upright lens. The ob- server was asked to inspect this object and to read its label. MUSEUM FATIGUE 65 lz rig i? e Fic.. 5... Object:—Electrotype: repro- E1a:." 6: Object.—A painting’ by ductions of Greek coins in a frame hung Meissonier representing a horseman. The against the wall. The observer was ..painting was hung on the line. Q.— asked to read the label of a coin in one of What is represented on the horse’s crup- the lower rows. per? A.—A blanket rolled up. Fic. 7. Object.—A'’ Greek coin ex- Fic. 8. Object.—Plaster impressions hibited toward the front of a flat case. from engraved Greek gems, exhibited in a @.— Describe the device on this coin. A.— flat case. @—The observer was asked to A cow licking her hind foot. describe the device on one of the gems'‘in the center of the case. A.—Two goats. VOL. I1.—5. 66 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY II. Much bent. Fic. 9. Object—Greek dagger handle with carved top, lying in the center of a desk case. @Q.—Describe the carving. A. —It represents an animal devouring a ram’s head. Fig. 10. Object—A Renaissance crucifix lying on the bottom of a floor case, and bearing an incised design. The observer was asked to describe the de- sign. A.—The figure of Christ. WrG. 11, Object.—A fragment of lying on the bottom of a floor What does the pattern on this represent? A.—A group of five ornament case. Q. fragment persons dancing. Fig. 12. Venus of Melos. Object.—A cast of the The observer was asked to read the label on the pedestal. MUSEUM FATIGUE 67 III. Half-crouching. Fic. 13. Object.—A fragment of a Fic. 14. -Object.—A crystal ball on relief on wood lying flat on the bottom of a carved metal pedestal in a floor case. a floor case. @Q.—What is represented on Q.—What does the pedestal represent? this relief? A.—A bird. A.—Cliffs, with houses and trees. IV. Crouching. Fig. 15. Object.—Engraving after Fic. 16. Object.—Terra-cotta statu- Canaletto in the lower row of a wall-case. ette on lower shelf of case. Q.—What is Q.—lIs the space in the center land or this goddess resting her elbow on? A,— water? A.—Water. A smaller statuette bearing a drum- shaped object on its head. 68 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY OR ee te Rabie Fic. 17. Object.—English posset cup Fig: 18. in the base of a floor case. The observer was asked to read the label. Object.—A Greek vase on lower shelf of case. @.—Describe the de- sign on this vase. A.—A rough vine pat- tern. 3 Fic. 19. Object.—Cast of the Lao- Fig. 20. coon. The observer was asked to read the Propylea on an easel. The observer was label. asked to read the label. Object. Drawing of the MUSEUM FATIGUE 69 Fic. 21. Object——Drawing of the sculptures on the western pediment of the Parthenon, installed on the pedestal of the casts reproducing their remains. Q.— Describe the figure farthest to the right. A.—A youth lying down. V. Twisted. Fig. 22: Object—A fragment of Arretine pottery lying near the end of a desk case. Q.—How many musical in- struments can be seen in this group? A, —two: harp and pipes. VI. Looking up. Fic, 23. Object—A landscape hung high. @.—Is the sky clear or cloudy? A. —Overecast. Fic. 24. Object.—A textile hanging over a wall case. @Q.—Has the upper border the same pattern as the lower? A, —Yes; but reversed. 70 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY VII. Stretching forward. VIII. Stretching up. Fic. 25. Object.—Statuette on a Fic. 26. Object.—A vase on upper bracket back of a desk case. The ob- shelf of case. The observer was asked to server was asked to read the label. read the label and notice the pattern, Fic. 27. Object.—Chinese bronze Fic. 28. Object.—A vase on the back mirrors in a wall case. @.—Describe the row of the upper shelf of a case. Q.—Is pattern of one of the mirrors on the top’ there a pattern on the neck? A,—Yes; row. A.—A central knob in a square’ bands of horizontal lines. with knobs about and other patterns. MUSEUM FATIGUE 71 Fig. 29. Object—A small ivory IX. Climbing up. carving (netsuke) on the upper shelf of a Fic. 30. Object.—A cast of a head me Saag eae ait. ah ad of Hera hung high on the wall. The ob- rT ; i server was asked to read the label. A.— ih I can read the large letters, but not the small. the floor and his hip joint about thirty-eight or thirty-nine inches. For the minutest inspection of a work of art, as for reading fine print, the eye should not be more than about twelve inches from it. The distance forward of a perpendicular from the feet, to which the eye may easily be carried by bending the body from the hips, is not over about fifteen inches. Of the objects commonly preserved in cases in our museums, but a small fraction, perhaps hardly more than a twentieth, are over twelve inches in diameter. Of objects of the nature of ornamented surfaces in frames or settings, or otherwise needing to be seen only on one side, but a smaller proportion are more than two or three inches from front to back. From these figures approximate dimensions for cases which shall reduce the muscular effort of good seeing to a minimum may be deduced as follows: the lowest exhibition level for case objects should not be more than eighteen inches below the average eye, or forty-two inches from the ground instead of thirty inches or less, as often at present. This would be the indicated height for the bottom of upright cases and the front level of desk or flat cases. The use of the base compartment of cases for exhibition should be given up. The breadth of flat cases should not be greater than about eighteen inches, instead of twenty-eight inches or more as at present. Desk (inclined) cases may be somewhat wider. Beyond these limits the eye can not easily be brought within close seeing distance of the back of the case. The depth of flat or desk 72 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY cases from the glass to the bottom should not be greater than from two. to four inches, instead of from six to twelve inches as at present. A depth from front to back of four inches would often also suffice for wall cases, instead of from sixteen to twenty-four inches as at present. Six inches might be regarded as their maximum supposing them used to, receive only objects seen to full advantage from one side. The depth of upright floor cases from front to back should not exceed twelve inches. A smaller standard depth of eight inches would probably also be found useful. Upright floor cases or wall cases might be eighty-four inches high instead of one hundred or more as at present. It is. true the bottom of an object twelve inches high installed at the top of such a case with three inches above to. spare would be six inches above the average eye, and the top eighteen inches. But since, on the twelve-inch shelf assumed, all parts of the object would be within six inches of the glass, it would all be within practicable. seeing distance, although only the lower part could be closely examined. The stability of floor cases a foot or less in breadth and seven feet high would require to be secured by special means. If-the legs were perpendicular, they would need to be fastened to the floor, otherwise they would need a wider bearing by extended feet; or a removable bar at the top of the case connecting it with another might be given a design in harmony with their framing and join the two into a stable pair. One result of the use of shallower cases would be that there would be less waste space within them. At present the space within a floor case of the usual broad dimensions is only very partially used. The exhibit is generally arranged in a pyramidal form of which the lower levels are seen against the successive steps of an interior pedestal and only the top row is shown above it and can be seen on all sides. All the space above the lower rows of objects is empty. In the narrow case proposed there would be in general no pedestal, but shelves alone. There would be no empty space above any row of objects and every object would be visible from all sides. Since a larger number of cases could be placed in a given area, another result would be that a greater pro- portion of museum objects would be exposed to view on all sides. An economy of case-space would be coupled with a completer showing of case-contents. Such changes would make a radical difference in the appearance of museum galleries. They would be fitted with a number of small cases, very shallow and standing but not reaching high, instead of a few large ones, broad, set low and rising higher. Wall cases would shrink to one quarter their present depth, upright floor cases to one third their present depth and to a less average height, and desk and flat cases to three quarters their width and one third their vertical depth. Delicate, MUSEUM FATIGUE +6 instead of heavy, construction would be the rule. The exhibits would be shown spaced and unobstructed instead of grouped into decorative pyramids or serried ranks. The small fraction of objects which are over twelve inches in diameter would be installed either in the open or each in its separate case. Nevertheless, there would remain opportunity within the cases for the more or less advantageous showing of more or less meritorious ob- jects. The upright cases on the floor and the wall would still have a piano nobile, or main level, in the space directly opposite the eye. Be- tween a bottom at forty-two inches above the floor and a top at eighty- four inches, there would be forty-two inches of space which, if divided by two shelves giving three spaces about fourteen inches each, would offer three gradations of prominence: first, the middle at fifty-six to seventy inches, because seen without effort by the average eye at sixty inches; second, the lowest, because perfectly seen at forty-two to fifty- six inches by inclining the body a few inches; and third, the uppermost, from seventy to eighty-four inches, because seen simply by raising the glance, although inaccessible to the closest inspection. If divided by a central shelf at sixty-three inches, the upper space of twenty-one inches would be the piano nobile, because the lower and generally more important part of the object would be open to close inspection without fatigue. On the under shelf, only the upper and generally less im- portant part of an object could be studied without bending. In cases such as these museums would, for the first time, possess veritable show cases. Hitherto these indispensable protective devices have in reality been glazed storage chests valuable primarily for their capacity. Their wide shelving with double or triple or multiple rows of objects is a survival from the days when museums were thought of as magazines where things were kept in safety ready for inspection when needed. Such shelving has no real place in these days of serious at- tempts to deal with the problems of public show. The present argument is not the first that has been offered in sup- port of narrow cases; nor are they unknown in newer museum installa- tions. Mr. Lewis Foreman Day wrote a few years ago: Museum cases are nearly always too big—and especially they are much too wide. One argument against deep cases is: that the things at the back of them (and in the center of square cases) are reduced to background. Another is, you can not get close enough to see things properly. . . . Think what a big vase you can put on a mantel-piece from nine to twelve inches wide, and you will realize how seldom it is necessary to have cases much wider than that. ... Some of the cases at Munich are not more than nine inches deep, and it is astonishing the size of the objects they hold.1 1Lewis Foreman Day, F.S.A., ‘‘How to Make the Most of a Museum,’’ Journal of the Society of Arts, January 10, 1908, p. 153 f. 74 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY The smaller shelf-widths which Mr. Day notes at Munich have come into occasional use also in other museums, American and foreign. In Boston the show-space tends also to be set higher. The reduction in the cubic contents of museum cases here advocated, in harmony with Mr. Day’s suggestion and newer practice, is the second radical improvement in these fixtures since public museums were insti- tuted. The first is an improvement from the point of view of the museum ; the second from the point of view of the visitor. The device known in Europe as the Reichenberger case (due to Dr. Gustav EH. Pazaurek, Director at the time of the North Bohemian Museum of In- dustrial Art), and in America as the Boston case (independently in- vented with a different mechanism by Mr. W. W. MacLean of the Boston Museum), consists in opening a case by lifting its top with a windlass instead of unlocking its doors with a key. This was a proposal in the interest of the security of the contents from dust, damp and theft. The reduction of the size and particularly of the depth of cases is a proposal in the interest of the easy visibility of their contents. By making also this second advance in the construction of these necessary fixtures, the museum would be in a position to fulfill more perfectly both of its essen- tial functions, first as guardian and then as expositor of the treasures committed to its charge. The use of smaller cases has for a corollary a reduction in the num- ber of objects shown simultaneously. It would be another step in the pathway which modern museums have already entered upon in dividing their contents into show and study series and in alternating objects between the two. The era of smaller and changing exhibits is also an era of better exhibition. THE FUNCTION OF MILK eer i THE FUNCTION OF MILK IN THE SCHEME OF EVOLUTION By HENRY DWIGHT CHAPIN, M.D. NEW YORK OETHE once remarked that blood is a very peculiar juice. We can say the same of milk. Modern physiological researches have shown that certain glands and secretions of the body have much larger functions than have hitherto been assigned to them. We need only refer to the so-called “internal secretions” of various glands, formerly unrecognized, that are now known to exert a marvellous influence not only on physical life, but on mental development as well. These facts have led us to give a closer scrutiny to the more familiar fluids of the body, of which milk is one of the best known, as it consti- tutes the universal food for the young of all mammalia. In serving this most important function it is recognized as a complete food, con- taining in itself all the elements required to support life. These in- clude protein for growth and tissue repair, with mineral salts to aid in this function ; carbohydrates and fats that produce heat and energy, and an abundance of water so necessary to carry on all the processes of life. From a nutritional standpoint, it is thus a perfect food, and all milks are alike in this respect. While each species of mammalian young is perfectly nourished by the milk of its own mother, the food elements are present in varying proportions in different species, this depending largely on the rapidity of growth of the offspring. Another peculiarity common to all milks is that when collected from the mother they are always in fluid form, but as soon as taken into the stomach of the young they become more or less solid. This is due to a process of coagulation that takes place only in one of the ingredients— the protein—but which thus always alters the form of the ingested milk. While the carbohydrates and fats in their composition and reaction to the digestive secretions are a good deal alike in different milks, the proteins are essentially different. It is further to be noted that coagu- lation of the proteins of milk takes place in different degrees in the different species. We are now led to two queries: (1) What is nature’s object in pre- senting a fluid that always coagulates in the stomach that receives it, and (2) Why do the milks of different species coagulate in different ways? An answer will be found in studying the relation between the milk and the particular digestive tract that is destined to receive it. While a certain portion of the protein of all milks coagulates on coming in contact with rennin or rennin and acid, the manner and extent of 76 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY the coagulation will stand in a direct relation to the proper evolution of the digestive tract of the animal. While there are many grades of coagulability in the milks of dif- ferent animals, we may for practical purposes distinguish three of these grades and consider their significance. The protein may coagu- late in a solid, gelatinous or flocculent manner. In the ruminant herbivorous animals, such as the cow, sheep or goat, the protein coagu- lates in solid, tough masses that can not readily escape from the stomach. In these animals, digestion is always largely gastric and the stomach forms seventy per cent. of the digestive tract. Later on, this stomach will be called upon largely to digest tough, stringy masses of hay and straw and the previous exercise on the tough curds of the milk de- velops it for this future work. In the non-ruminant herbivora, such as the mare and ass, the pro- tein coagulates in gelatinous masses that can easily leave the stomach. There is an object in thus passing the curds quickly along, as in this class of animals digestion is largely intestinal, and the intestines form about ninety per cent. of the digestive tract. Later on, grasses and grain must be largely digested in the intestinal portion of the tube, and hence the curd is here also especially adapted to develop a certain part of the intestinal tract for its future work. In human milk the curd is thrown down in flocculent masses—a form intermediate between the solid and gelatinous types of curd pre- viously noted. While digestion begins in the stomach, it is largely carried on and completed in the intestine, and the stomach forms only about twenty per cent. of the digestive tract. The curd is thus adapted to start the development and motility of the stomach, and finishes by instituting these functions in the bowel which is destined to play a predominant part in digestion. Here again the curd, as far as form is concerned, furnishes, to a certain extent, an analogue and precursor of the future food of the infant. The curd forms small, flocculent masses, and the future food must be separated later into small particles by chewing before digestion can take place to the best advantage. We have thus seen that the milk of herbivorous animals, whose digestion is principally gastric, forms solid curds that can not easily leave the stomach; that the milk of herbivorous animals whose digestion is principally intestinal, forms gelatinous curds which easily leave the stomach and pass into the intestine; and that woman’s milk, which is intended for a digestive system in which gastric digestion is more than that of the horse or ass, but not so great as the cow or goat, curds in flakes that stand between the other two types of curds. Hence it is a law that coagulation of the proteins of milk always takes place in such a way as to most readily adapt the digestive tract for its future work, as this function needs special preparation. It is thus seen that while a THE FUNCTION OF MILK 77 certain amount of protein is present in the milk of all animals and is necessary for tissue building and growth, this protein must not only be coagulable, but must curd in a certain specific way in each species of animal for the proper evolution of their digestive tracts. In studying the life history of animals it is observed that all com- mence life in an exceedingly simple form, and for a time their develop- ment proceeds along lines so nearly parallel that it is impossible to de- termine to what species the embryos belong. As development proceeds, a divergence of form and structure is noticeable. At birth this di- vergence is so great that there is no difficulty in distinguishing species, but the variation in the functions in nutrition at this time is not very great, especially in mammals. The milks of different mammals at birth can be made interchange- able for many individuals of the young of various species, and, as far as nutritive value is concerned, they are often fairly satisfactory sub- stitutes for each other. But at the end of the natural suckling period of many mammals, no such interchange of food would be possible. To realize what a divergence in the digestive functions has been taking place during the suckling period, imagine an infant, a kitten and a calf all being fed successfully on cow’s milk. Here it is evident that at the very beginning of life the difference in their digestive processes is not very great; but wait a year until all three have passed the suckling period. The infant will be just beginning to eat soft food, the kitten will have developed so that it can eat flesh and bones, and the calf will be thriving on grass and hay. In one short year the divergence of their digestive tracts has been so great that the natural food of the calf is then wholly unsuited to the kitten or the infant, yet the chemist will find that the food of all three at this time contains the same basic nutri- tive elements as it did at birth. An important matter that seems to have been generally overlooked as far as milk is concerned is that this natural fluid is a food for a digestive tract that is rapidly changing its form and function, and the differences in the digestive properties of the milks of various species are for real and specific purposes. As nutrition is the basis of all physical life, we see how important a function milk performs at the very beginning of existence in developing and preparing the digestive tract of each species so that it can digest and assimilate food that must nourish it in later life. We must thus emphasize the fact that milk through its protein has a developmental as well as a nutritive function to perform. A directly practical point that can be deduced from this study is the importance of the mothers of every species suckling their own offspring, as they always do except in the highest species—man. The milks of different species are not readily interchangeable because the proteins have functions in helping to develop such radically different digestive 78 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY | apparatuses. From a nutritional standpoint milks do not differ very markedly, but in developmental quality they are far apart. This forms a very good additional reason why every human mother should, if pos- sible, nurse her own infant. The higher mortality following artificial feeding is thus not the only reason in favor of maternal nursing. In the former case by using the milk of another species—the cow—we put a hard curding milk into a stomach intended and adapted for a soft, flocculent curd. This is not only the cause of much indigestion, but such substitution fails to adequately carry out one of the functions that milk was intended to perform in the scheme of evolution,—namely, in each species to specially develop certain parts of the gastro-intestinal tract that must later perform most of the work of digestion. PROFESSIONAL INVALIDISM 79 PROFESSIONAL CONTRIBUTIONS TO INVALIDISM By Dr. ROBERT 8. CARROLL HIGHLAND HOSPITAL, ASHEVILLE, N. C. ‘ 6: dinieieis. ccs) « 1890 Transparent photograph film............. (DASE creccre, oferene cole ase 1888 Motion-picture machine................--. TD[S eter Es 5S Oy REESE cee 1893 Buttonhole sewing machine...............) ENCE CR eee tertic re thers ie. c!ai ai sletersy-« 1881 CULE ore hats ERR 5 6 ae rs PA GHOR OV Se Ste cle. os,c'2 s oisve,e 0.5 1891 WO slorrime CALI Gsiele cisies os ss sc ake co seme WWalTBO Reais. cs flocs eos 8 1888 PPM CIAl OAT NULG ec cis v e'e sc oe oe eae INGHENOD ate oicts + < cs ciele, orsle 0 1896 Split-phase induction motor............:.. Rel etter feretahe meets «, digs evaleis o's 1887 IMM IDE SUIC@ revit pepe a) See sacs! 2 yc bie eo. ac ave Satna Westinghouse............. | 1869 PHC LEIG MOBILIT yer) atch 2) 2 cde) 5s oo: 0 cee es a IO ITS OMe irc ote cl eisie ones e 4 cil 1889 BEC DHE CASLIO LS. iclsie sinless s.< os ls os win eheaemee | Mergenthaler............. | 1885 Chain-stitch shoesewing machine........... French & Myers.......... 1881 Single-type composing machine............ WGSNYSTO Mere Gy dee) eile) 6, «9 Sele’ ae | 1887 Continuous-process match machine........ (ISB OC Het rttererdicty.cis 0 s.c 9) e's, 0/6 1888 RO NTOMMG GALI ay gBts sees also: v's. « we aiareve tettege INCH pit stoic. c.s cve.cieee « 1884 Disk plows (modern type) ........06..0006 lan ie | 1896 Veiclinaent (0 ria Ve oer Ae 7 rae oe wae A GOODY GAT ee aie cis isiprevee see | 1871 LCi race mien. 2 Se aA eS PS UUS sere ie lc cis aco sie «.s 1879 Recording adding machine................ UPTO US Heya ssers1c 8 26 «00 1888 OFM Cel to Peres ene. A ae RC Pere? (EM Elo o rat OC ee eRe (42870 Automatic knot-tying harvester machine....| Appleby..................) 1880 WSCON RAS Ss oid cesrace hea ole 050 oisue s\n ove a Reet EOC ONE IEEE Gio sca eid os so -ere | 1875 Machine for making barbed wire........... (Os OT. = 6 paar nS 1875 Rotary: CONVErterss sss clege Hea aero SVHONGUMAPERL tre os save see's | 1887 PANILOMAUIC CAT COUDLEI sec .cin a ciattic oa lketh icteIELLITIC Yn USED ocils © ave sed eee 1873 igh-specd Steel's et; amicts. cela ec alee slostentneeee Taylor & White.......... 1901 Dry-air process for blast furnace........... OO | 1894 Block signals for railways..............0.. EITM OLS ioc, cs «ace ps ule 1872 PL TOMOY; OATS ..s ocd. care creaisiate, ccste rer en he es Van Depoele & Sprague... | 1884-1887 Harveyized armor plate..........eseccece. ilcainvesysremtandcisrs fa 's a0 ne iece | 1891 308 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY FOREIGN Invention Date | Inventor Nationality MileEriG sHheel erty] atthe « evere scale Seite s T9008 sHeroulte 2a emer ere French. EB) VATAIVITLE scr eee 6s, s.% vicia to ola ote < fote SOT MeNObele. ac eee ene Swedish. Artificial alizarene (dye)..........---+- 1869 | Graebe & Lieberman...| German. Siphon recorder...................--.--| 1874 | Thompson............. English. Gas engine, Otto cycle!............... TSAR Ottoes cs aa setae German. Wireless telegraphy...:..........-..-- 1900) Marconi... sce ee Italian. Smiakelessipo weenie oc. fe 6 faces whsenete 1886: Wiellless 5%). aereesc toe eee French. IDs sierAllyoy Wastes) Ope 2 aud onan Oey ene Beicicr ne £900>:\, Wiesel csc ieee te te tenors German. Centrifurslicreamer.. sic: sass 4s os os 1880) ieDe' Laval. wh. sk oe Swedish. IMancanese Steele. cist. ccs sic ae fase es 8 TS84) lobadifieldes: 32): 0 stekeeke 2 English. Electric transformer ..........0.2+-88% 1883 | Gaulard & Gibbs....... Do. Cyanide process for extracting metal....| 1888 Arthur & De Forrest.... Do. Mantle*bumer . oo60: oes ics ct enc se oh elS90) aWelsbache. oceans Austrian. By-product coke ovens. .... 6.6 .s0 ee 2 o's ‘| 1893. Hlofimanws.4. -.s ea aces Do. going into the unknown, for answering the puzzles that are put to us. Our imagination is challenged by difficulty. And the result has been a century of growth, which in its magic and in its | largeness casts a spell upon the mind. *’ The story that Mr. Lane tells is in- deed marvelous. We produce 66 per cent. of the world’s petroleum, 60 per | cent. of its copper, 40 per cent. of its | coal and iron. Within fifty years we gave in subsidies to railroads public | lands that exceeded in size a territory | seven times as large as the state of | Pennsylvania. We have given to the states, for the sustaining of their schools and other public institutions, an amount that our records do not aceu- | rately state, but thirteen western states were given over 67,000,000 acres. We have water power that can be made to generate perhaps as much as 60,000,000 horsepower. The waters that flow idly to the sea could be made to support not less than 50,000,000 people if turned upon the land. Perhaps in some cases Mr. Lane over- exalts our achievements. Jor example, he tells us that the public-school system is the most successful social enterprise yet undertaken by any people, that on it we spend three-quarters of a billion ‘¢Wducation is indeed our foremost industry, from whatever point of view it may be regarded.’’ But we should need to double the dollars a year. 5 |amount spent in education to make ‘t ' financially comparable with the adver- _tising business, to quadruple it to rival the liquor trade. Mr. Lane writes: ‘‘During the past fifty years the people of the United States have uttered two thirds of all the revolutionary epoch-making inventions of the world, ranging from the tele- phone and the incandescent lamp to Wright’s aeroplane and high speed steel.’’? In this case the evidence :s supplied by the forty-three examining divisions of the patent office. It will /not be convincing to foreign critics or to all Americans but is of sufficient in- | terest to be reproduced. |RUINS OF THE MESA VERDE NA- TIONAL PARK THE large tract of land in south- western Colorado, now known as the Mesa Verde National Park, was set aside from the Ute Reservation by an Act of Congress in 1906 on account of the numerous ruins of cliff dwellings which occur in its canyons. This en- lightened legislation was in response 10 the universal recognition that these re- mains had an educational importance. It was largely brought about by the ef- forts of women of Colorado, members of a local state organization known as the Colorado Cliff Dwellers Association, At about this time or a few years be- fore there was a general awakening of THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE 399 VIEW OF SUN TEMPLE FROM INSPECTION POINT, ACROSS THE CANYON. Also the Cliff Palace in the cave to the right. interest in prehistoric monuments throughout the country, when it ws recognized that for the protection of the ruins of the South- unless laws west were made, in a few years these survivals of the past would practically be destroyed by collectors whose efforts were mainly stimulated by the commer- cial value of pottery and other small objects they contained. The sequestra- tion of the Mesa Verde National Park | was accompanied by an appropriation of money for its development: ment of salary of a building roads and current expenses. pay- superintendent, The administration of the park was nat- urally placed in the hands of the cus- todian of public lands, the Secretary of This set aside a part of the appropriation for clearing the rooms, and making such repairs as were needed for preservation of the walls. As this kind of work is of a scientific the Interior. official wisely the fallen débris from | designate character, the Secretary of the Smith- sonian Institution was called upon to an archeological expert {o take immediate charge of the work. The policy adopted by the Secretary of the Interior has been continued from year to year with satisfactory results. Three of the largest and most typical cliff dwellings of the park have been excavated and roads have been constructed to them, so that now the student or tourist can visit, by auto- repaired ; mobile from Mancos, on the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad, without discom- fort, cliff called Spruce-tree House, Cliff Palace the well-known dwellings and Balcony House. Up to last summer the Mesa Verde National Park was widely known from cliff but were cognizant of mounds indicating villages situated on the mesa top. Al- though the walls of buildings were not its dwellings, archeologists visible projecting above the surface ‘t THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY Io 3 ‘]]@M 4SsBve oq} JO doz oy} mo Suyjmemes ue ‘SNINY FHL 40 ISVA TTLL V §0 dO], GHL WOUd TTAWAT, NAG FO MATA , mS ’ Bt weal &. St Gs THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE SKETCH OF THE PREHISTORIC SUN TEMPLE. was believed that there were buildings of a different type of architecture hidden below these mounds, and it was recognized that it would be well to open up one of these mounds and ex- amine its contents, in order to enlarge our knowledge of the culture of the prehistoric inhabitants of this region. One of these mounds is situated on a commanding promontory across Cliff Canyon, opposite Cliff Palace, or be- | tween the former and a side branch fol- lowing the same general direction. The stones artificially worked that covered the surface of this mound gave indica- tions of important results, but the ex- tent of the mound was hidden from view by a growth of cedar and other trees. A shallow excavation had been made at one point by ‘‘pot hunters,’’ which revealed a section of wall and con- firmed the belief that rooms were buried below the mound, but the fragment thus brought to light gave no indication of the extent, shape or purpose of the building to which they belonged. The scientific field work on the park, in 1915, was entrusted to Dr. J. Walter Fewkes, ethnologist in the Bureau of American Ethnology, of the Smith- sonian Institution, who had in previous years excavated and repaired Spruce- tree House and Cliff Palace. The plan of work was a complete excavation of the mound, repair and study of the building, if any within it, and an in- vestigation of its character and pur- poses. been made to the Secretary of the In- terior in which a popular exposition of the discoveries is treated. . The state- ments made in this report indicate that this building belongs to an architectural A report of this work has just | type hitherto unknown in the Mesa Verde National Park, and differs from any formerly described. Its ground plan is well compared to a letter D, the straight side or south wall overlooking the point of a promontory measuring 121.7 feet from east to west; the curved portion being approximately 340 feet, while the breadth is about 64 feet. A marked feature in form which strikes one at first sight is the remarkable unity in its construction, the fine ma- sonry of the walls and their massive character. Although apparently con- structed in two sections at different times, it is evident that this huge, mysterious structure is a unit and fol- lowed a plan that was thought out be- fore the foundations were laid, the massive walls being completed without essential modification. The building was not made up of rooms patched one on the other, from time to time, as is generally the case with cliff dwelling architecture, A PREHISTORIC SUN TEMPLE In his official report the author after considering various details takes up three of the many questions ordi- narily asked by visitors, viz.: What is the age of the building, the kinship of the builders and the purpose of its con- struction. There is no doubt that it was prehistoric, for a large cedar tree with 360 annual rings was found growing on the highest point of the mound, on top of the walls before excavation began. This tree sprouted as far back as 1540, or the time the discoverer of the South- west, Coronado, first enterec what is /now southern New Mexico. The num- _ber of stones filling the rooms covered 312 by the débris indicates that the walls were formerly considerably higher and had fallen before the tree began to grow. If restored to their former place they would raise the wall six feet. struction of this wall implies a time still further back. While the exact age can not be determined, the mound of débris would imply at least two centuries be- tween laying the foundations and the sprouting of the cedar tree. The purpose of the building is, and | will remain, a mystery, but by elimina- tion of theories which can not be ac- cepted, the author believes it was a building devoted to ceremonials, or a) temple. Unfortunately for all theories of use, the indications are that the walls were never finished. The rooms are not suitable for living rooms and the build- ing shows no signs that it was in- | tended for habitation. There are no indications of piles of débris, nor were | utilitarian objects, like pottery, found in the rooms; no marks of smoke or plastering appear on the wall. It was never roofed. The theory that it was used solely for a fortification is equally unsatisfactory: there are no portholes, | or places where its defenders might stand; no reservoir to supply water to warriors. Like the theory of defense, the suggestion that it’ was used for storage of food is likewise indefensible. Although protection and storage may have been secondary purposes, the shape of the rooms and their character im- plies that it was not primarily con- structed for these ends. Not being abie to accept any other theory, there re- mains but one other which strongly ap- | peals to the author, which is that this large building was constructed for cere- monial uses. In support of this theory are mentioned certain large rooms, identified as kivas, which we know the cliff dwellers devoted to ceremonial rites. Similar rooms used for the same purpose survive in pueblos of the pres- ent day. Other reasons are advanced supporting the belief that this building was intended for a temple. The key io The con- | THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY 'the whole structure, following this in- terpretation, is a shrine built on the corner-stone, under the southwest cor- ner of the ruin. The symbolic figure on the floor of this shrine is a fossil palm leaf, identified as a representa- tion of the sun, and suggesting the name, Sun Temple. The question, Who built Sun Temple? is not less difficult to answer satis- factorily than those of its age and purpose. It has significant resem- -blance in architectural form to one of the great pueblo ruins in the Chazo Canyon, and the circular room of the annex with its surrounding chambers suggests the double walled ‘‘towers’’ found in the McElmo Canyon, and along the lower course of the Mancos River. There are deep-seated resem- blances in the architectural and ceramic characters of these regions referred to which indicate that they belong to the same culture area, and it is possible that the center of diffusion of this cul- ture was the Mesa Verde region. Al- though Sun Temple belongs to a tyne different from any of the well-known cliff dwellings of the Mesa Verde Na- tional Park, it shows evidences that it was not built by people from a distance but by inhabitants of the cliff houses of the Mesa Verde. SCIENTIFIC ITEMS WE record with regret the death of Dr. C. Willard Hayes, formerly chief geologist of the U. S. Geological Sur- vey; of Dr. John Orren Reed, professor of physics at the University of Michi- gan; of Dr. Oswald Kiilpe, professor of philosophy and psychology at Munich; of Dr. Richard Dedekind, professor of mathematies at Brunswick, and of Mr. A. D. Darbishire, lecturer on genetics in the University of Edinburgh. THE Bruce gold medal of the Astro- -nomical Society of the Pacific has been | awarded to Dr. George Ellery Hale, di- rector of the Mount Wilson Solar Ob- servatory. papi COLE eee EY IO MON Paaey APRIL, 1916 PROBLEMS ASSOCIATED WITH THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS? By Prorressor W. M. DAVIS HARVARD UNIVERSITY The Visible Features of Coral Reefs——One of the most striking features of coral reefs is their incapacity to reveal the conditions of their origin. True, the observer on a reef, whether he is a zoologist or not, may see the extraordinary luxuriance of coral growth, and may discover that the heavier forms grow under the surf on the outer slope, while the more delicately branching forms frequent the quieter waters of the lagoon. The variety of pattern and the delicacy of coloring, as seen in the clear and quiet lagoon waters, are endlessly entertaining; but it is Fic. 1. FRINGING Repr, SOUTHEAST END OF New CALEDONIA; Low Tipre. This is the inner part of the reef flat shown in Fig. 2. The slender trees on the headland are the New Caledonian araucaria, or pine. exceptional for them to be laid bare at low tide over broad surfaces, as they are in the Great Barrier reef of Australia, so wonderfully pictured in Saville Kent’s notable volume. Hence unless the traveller is fore- 1 Presented at the Washington meeting of the National Academy of Sciences, April 20, 1915. VOL. 11.—22. 314 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY warned he will be disappointed in the dull gray coral rock that prevails over the greater part of the reef flat, Figs. 1 and 2, strewn with scraps of dead coral, and holding living forms only in its little pools—occasional small corals, large dark-blue starfish, sea urchins with a small number of heavy brown spines or with a larger number of long hat-pin-like black spines, giant clams with many colored mantles lining their slightly open valves, and various kinds of calcareous alge. He will often see large masses of coral, sometimes ten or fifteen feet in diameter, that have been torn by waves, Fig 2, from the outer face of the reef, now scattered over the reef flat, suffering slow disintegration as they are battered by later storms and shifted across the flat toward the lagoon; and in the Fig. 2. REEF FLAT, SOUTHEAST END oF NEw CALEDONIA; Low Turpp. lagoon he will find patches of growing corals surrounded by white coral sand or gray silt that is swept from the reef flat. If he be a zoologist, he will revel in the opportunity of study in so superb a natural aquarium; he can there find the coral larve to be free- floating forms of pin-head size that are carried far and wide by ocean currents—some of them to add to the population of existing reefs, most of them to die in deep water, and a few to arrive by lucky chance on a reef-free coast, where they may establish themselves, if the temperature be high enough, and in time form a new reef close along the shore, known as a fringing reef. With wider experience, supplemented by sounding and dredging, the observer will learn that reef-building corals do not grow in turbid water, or at greater depths than 20 or 30 fathoms, or in latitudes where the winter temperature of the water is lower than 20° C. He may by wandering on many reefs gain acquaintance with THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 315 their various forms—fringing reefs, close along shore, as already men- tioned ; barrier or encircling reefs, Figs. 3 and 4, separated from their Fic. 8. BARrrRIpbR REEF, NARROW LAGOON, AND EMBAYMENT, NoRTH SIDE OF NGAU, Fisi. In the mid-foreground a branch valley descends to a small delta on the side of the main-valley embayment. mountainous central island by a shallow lagoon half a mile or several miles in width; or atolls, precisely like barrier reefs, except that their lagoon has no central island; and he may, by imagination, gain appre- Fic. 4. Surr ON THE BARRIER REEF OF RAIATHA, Socipty ISLANDS; HALF TIDE. 316 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY ciation of the secondary. and larger meaning of the term, coral reef; for, as employed by Darwin, Jukes, and others, it means not only the visible structure at sea level, but also the whole calcareous undermass that has been added in bench-like form around its foundation; of small volume in narrow fringing reefs, probably of enormous volume in large atolls. During these entertaining wanderings and reflections the observer may consciously, yes, insistently, review the various theories by which the origin of coral reefs has been explained. But so long as he confines his attention to the sea-level reefs, he will not be able to make sure which one of the eight or nine competing theories is the right one: for sea- level coral reefs reveal only their existence in the present, not their origin in the past. Apart from indications as to limiting depths and temperatures, as just stated, the visible reefs give no conclusive testimony as to the conditions and processes of their past formation. It is probably for this reason that so many contradictory, mutually irreconcilable hypoth- eses concerning the mode of reef formation have been invented. ‘There was, to be sure, a period from 1840 to 1870 when Darwin’s theory of upgrowth during intermittent subsidence, gained universal accept- ance; for it completely superseded a few earlier theories and for a long time had no competitors. But after undisputed success for a gen- eration, several rival hypotheses were brought forward, and then for some thirty years the universal agreement previously prevailing was succeeded by many and wide differences of opinion. The truth of the matter is that, during this period, the coral-reef problem has been en- cumbered by the rivalry of several immature, imperfectly argued, and really incompetent hypotheses, whereby progress has been embarrassed if not hindered. But during the past thirteen years several Australasian students of coral reefs in the Pacific, and for a shorter period a few stu- dents in the Atlantic, have been finding evidence that has led them to set aside the newer unsatisfactory views and return to or towards Darwin’s theory. Such was the condition of things, when, aided by a liberal grant from the Shaler Memorial Fund of Harvard University and by a gen- erous subsidy from the British Association for the Advancement of Science, which carried with it an invitation to attend the colonial meet- ing in Australia, I was enabled to spend the greater part of the year 1914 in visiting a number of reef-encircled islands in the Pacific ocean, for the purpose of examining on the ground as carefully as possible the merits of the various theories that have been brought forward in explana- tion of these extraordinary structures. Theories of Coral Reefs —Before starting on this journey, I made a preparatory review of the rival hypotheses,” in which I was aided by several references supplied by Dr. T. W. Vaughan, of Washington, whose 2The Home Study of Coral Reefs, Bull. Amer. Geogr. Scc., XLVI1., 1914, 561-577, 641-654, 721-739. THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 317 studies of Atlantic reefs began some years before mine were undertaken on the Pacific. In this review especial attention was given to the critical tests by which the success of the several theories could be measured, and the review confirmed me in the belief that Darwin’s original theory, in- vented, as he tells us, before he had ever seen a true coral reef, is by far the most successful of all. I say “confirmed in the belief,” because earlier still, I had prepared a diagram to set forth the special merits of Darwin’s theory, as they were then understood: indeed twelve years ago my opinion favoring Darwin’s views was briefly stated in a small text- book; but, it is regrettable to add, such was the weight of authoritative counter statements that my belief in Darwin’s theory was for a time weakened ; yet it was soon strengthened again when making the prepara- tory review over a year ago. This must be made plain, so that any one may estimate for himself whether, in what is now to follow, my presenta- tion of the case is prejudiced, and particularly whether I am guilty of that grievous error known as “special pleading ”—arguing in favor of some favorite theory—instead of giving impartial consideration to all. My preference would be to make an impersonal, objective presentation of the problem ; but inasmuch as a number of different theories must be ex- amined, some attention must be given to the experience, the qualifications and the methods of their inventors ; thus the discussion inevitably becomes somewhat personal. One of the most interesting results of the prelimi- nary inquiry of a year ago was that an investigation of the coral-reef problem inevitably leads far away from the direct study of corals and coral reefs, and enters upon the discussion of many other problems which at first might seem to have no relation to it: it is for that reason I have entitled this address: “ Problems associated with the Study of Coral Reefs.” Methods of Investigation.—N ow if coral reefs themselves are so un- communicative as to their past history, the search for their origin— whether they are fringing reefs, close alongside of an island or a conti- nental shoreline, or barrier reefs, separated from the shore by a shallow lagoon, or atolls standing alone in the ocean—can not be successfully prosecuted until the fundamental problem of how to conduct a scientific investigation of this kind has been duly considered. Let me therefore state briefly that the method of investigation which is here selected—it is more fully set forth in the preparatory review above referred to—de- mands, first, the observation of pertinent facts and the review of pub- lished observations by others: then, spurred on by the spirit of wondering inquiry and aided by related knowledge, it appeals to speculation, imagination and invention, or borrows from the speculation, imagina- tion and invention of others, in the hope of thus coming upon the mental concepts or “ hypotheses” of all the possible ways in which reefs could ever have been formed; and when this has been done the investi- gator arrives at the ponderous question: Which one of all these hypoth- 318 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY eses is right? He might at first answer this question by saying: Visit the reefs themselves with the various theories in mind, and see which one best accounts for the facts there observable; but if this advice is literally followed, no satisfactory result is obtained from it, for the reefs are so complacently indifferent that they make no objection to any one of the eight or nine theories that have been proposed to account for them. Of course they make no objection, for no theory would get so far as being announced if it did not at least explain the visible facts of the Fic. 5. Across FAAROoA ‘Bay, EAST SIDE OF RAIATEA, SOCINTY ISLANDS. reefs that it was invented to explain! A really successful theory must do much more than that: it must, in Chamberlin’s phrase, explain various things that it was not invented to explain; for example, facts that were not thought to be connected with reefs, or facts that were not known when it was invented. In order to see if a theory can stand this added test, its consequences must be logically deduced from the postulated premises and impartially confronted with the the appropriate facts. Confrontation as well as deduction demand concentration of attention on the problem in hand, and the exclusion as far as possible of all distractions, such as the re- mote and picturesque reef-encircled islands afford in abundance. If the confrontation is successful, the theory is good; if unsuccessful, the theory is erroneous. But why should a truism like this be stated in these modern years! Because, surprisingly enough, a review of the published studies of the coral-reef problem leads to the conclusion that, with a few distinguished exceptions and those chiefly in the works of Darwin and Dana or their followers, the methods employed have been incomplete, illogical and untrustworthy, and the results reached are therefore unconvincing. THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 319 Outgrowing Reefs on Still-standing Islands.—For example, several observers thirty-five or forty years ago came to believe that reefs are formed by outgrowth on their advancing talus around still-standing foundations. One of these observers was a zoologist of limited experience with coral reefs in the Atlantic; another, also a zoologist, had a more extended experience with coral reefs in the Pacific, but seems to have been little informed in physical geology; a third was a distinguished explorer of the oceans, who early in his scientific career came inde- pendently on this still-stand theory, as it may be called, which has become known chiefly through his vigorous advocacy of it. In an article which gave more attention to another scheme, here considered on a later page under the name of the “up- and outgrowth theory,” he briefly stated his simpler theory substantially as follows: The still-stand theory supposes that coral reefs, once established by colonizing larve as fringing reefs on a suitable foundation such as the shore of a young volcanic island, have been enlarged by outward growth on the advancing talus of their own detritus, the still-standing island suffering no change in attitude with respect to sea level while it is slowly worn down lower and lower as the reef grows outward; at the same time the inner part of the reef is dissolved away and converted into a shallow lagoon, so that the initial fringing reef is in time developed into a barrier reef. Finally the central island may be completely worn away, leaving an uninterrupted central lagoon, so that the barrier reef becomes an atoll. The “distinguishing feature” of this theory, as described by its inventor, is that, in conjunction with the associated theory of up- and outgrowth, by which atolls may be built up on sub- marine volcanoes crowned with an “ organic rain” of caleareous deposits here to be discussed later, it does away with “the great and general subsidences” involved in Darwin’s theory. He concluded: If it has been shown that atoll and barrier reefs can be formed without subsidence, then it is most unlikely that their presence in any way indicates regions of the earth’s surface where there have been wide, general and slow depressions. But why should one .possibility exclude another! It is apparently true, as an abstract proposition, that coral reefs may be formed by out- growth around still-standing islands, as this oceanographer had sug- gested; but a geologist asks not merely by what processes coral reefs may have been formed, but how they really have been formed. Yet because coral reefs may have been formed in a certain way, the scientific world was urged to believe that they have been formed in that way; indeed, the third inventor of this still-stand theory later rejected the possibility of reefs being formed by upgrowth during subsidence, and regarded his possible scheme of outgrowth on a still-standing foundation as the equivalent of actual processes, for he eventually said : 320 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY It seems impossible path our present knowledge to admit that atolls or bar- rier reefs have ever been developed after the manner indicated by Mr. Darwin’s simple and beautiful theory of coral reefs. j Consequences of the Still-stand Theory.—What procedure should be followed with respect to the still-stand hypothesis by an unprejudiced inquirer? Evidently he should ask: What are all the deducible conse- quences of the hypothesis; which ones of these consequences can be confronted with the observable facts of to-day; and particularly which ones of the confrontable consequences are unlike the corresponding confrontable consequences of competing hypotheses. ‘These steps are indispensable in any well ordered investigation into the past origin of existing features; and they are particularly desirable here, because they were almost wholly neglected in the statement of the theory by its lead- ing advocate. For example, so important an element of the theory as the wearing away of the central island was very briefly treated, chiefly in a single sentence: In the case of the atoll the cone may have been reduced below the level of the sea by the waves and atmospheric influences. So summary a disposition of the matter is insufficient. The suc- cessive stages of this long process must be reasoned out; otherwise the theory can not be thoroughly tested. The successive stages of change must, indeed, be reasoned out with equal care and fairness for every alternative scheme, for only thereby can the investigator guard himself against becoming unwarrantably fond of some special hypothesis. He must make an effort consciously to deduce all the consequences of each hypothesis, lest an important consequence remain overlooked. He must then select those consequences which may correspond to existing facts; the others can not be used in testing the hypothesis from which they follow. And he must give special attention to those consequences of each hypothesis which contradict corresponding consequences of the rival hypotheses, because it is only in this way that crucial tests can be found which select a certain hypothesis as the successful one, and point out the others as incompetent. There is nothing whatever new about all this; the only surprising thing is that the method has not been con- sistently applied instead of, as a rule, unconsciously neglected in coral- reef studies. It has been noted above that, in following the procedure thus indi- cated, we must often turn from coral reefs and consider various associ- ated problems. In the case before us, we must consider the changes that a still-standing oceanic island will, while the reef is growing out- ward around it, suffer under the attack of subaerial erosional forces which wear its initial form down lower and lower as the reef grows larger and larger and the lagoon becomes wider and wider, till after the island reaches the form of a penultimate lowland, it is consumed by the waves THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 321 —not however by the heavy waves of the deep and open ocean, but by the moderate waves of the shallow and enclosed lagoon. ‘To illustrate this we may assume that a young volcanic island of simple conical form and roughly circular rim is built up by eruption from the ocean bottom, and that a narrow fringing reef is established on its shore, as in sector G on the left side of Fig. 6. As the reef grows outward, sector H, on its advancing talus and a lagoon is more or less completely dissolved out behind it, the bottom of the lagoon should consist of ragged, dissolving limestone, or of insoluble residue. At the same time the central island suffers erosion; radiating valleys are excavated in its slopes and deltas are formed in the shallow lagoon, or on the inner part of the reef if it be not already dissolved away. Reefs thus formed should tend to become broad and continuous, with marks of outward growth in the form of *~ Fic. 6. DIAGRAM oF SuccESSIvE STacEs OF REEF FORMATION, as deduced from the theory of outgrowing reefs on still-standing islands: sector O, type of actual barrier reef and its embayed central island. prograded beach ridges; islands of coral sands should be built by the waves on the reef flats and soon become covered with vegetation. The process continues, as in sector J, where the voleano is much reduced in altitude while the deltas have been built forward to greater size and have become laterally confluent; and later in sector K, where the island is reduced to a lowland surrounded by a broad alluvial plain just above sea level; the structure of the reef is here shown in a vertical section M, on the side of sector K ; the submarine talus layers must slant into deeper and deeper water at a steeper angle than the slope of the volcanic cone, the buried surface of which is not eroded, for by the conditions of the hypothesis that part of the cone has never been above sea level to suffer the attack of eroding agencies. At last in sector L, the lagoon waters are supposed, in a manner not clearly stated in the original account of this hypothesis, to have removed not only the alluvial delta plain but the central volcanic lowland also, except perhaps for some low residual hills; when they vanish the reef must be called an atoll; not that the “322 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY reef itself has in any way changed its nature, but that the lagoon is then uninterrupted with a depth of 10, 20 or 30 fathoms. Confrontation of Still-Stand Consequences with Facts.—Now this is all, with the possible exception of the excavation of the atoll lagoon 20 or more fathoms deep across the volcanic lowland, easily conceiv- able; it may have happened, but how can we tell if it really has hap- pened; how can we know that the hypothetical scheme, here repre- sented graphically, truly corresponds to the history of any actual coral reefs? Only by confronting the deduced consequences of the hypoth- esis with the appropriate facts of observation. There is absolutely no other logical method of procedure in the coral-reef problem or in any © similar problem. Where then shall we look for the appropriate facts with which the deduced consequences are to be confronted? First, in young, little dissected volcanic islands around which discontinuous fringing reefs form a narrow and incomplete girdle. Such islands are occa- sionally found, and thus give observational warrant for the initial conditions postulated in the still-stand hypothesis: but, as the same initial conditions are postulated in certain other hypotheses, no critical test for the correctness of the stili-stand hypothesis is thus secured. We must look next at sea-level reefs of the barrier or atoll class: they con- firm the possible correctness of the hypothesis, because the deduced features of barrier and atoll reefs are essentially the same as the visible features of the actual reefs—of course they are, for these sea-level reefs are the very facts which the still-stand hypothesis was invented to ex- plain; and, if it had not explained them, it would never have been published. But the difficulty here is, that all the other hypotheses do exactly as well: they also explain the barrier and atoll reefs that they were made to explain; hence no crucial test is yet provided by means of _ which a choice among the competing hypotheses may be made. What do the observable features of a lagoon within a barrier reef or atoll say, when the expected features of a lagoon as deduced from the still-stand hypothesis are confronted with them? As far as actual lagoons have been studied they contradict the idea of excavation by solution or otherwise, for they seem to be the seat of sedimentation; the sediments being supplied either by calcareous overwash from the reef, by organic deposits formed within the lagoon itself, or by outwash from the island streams. But it is to the form of the central island within a barrier reef, or to the internal structure of an elevated reef that we must give special attention, for there the consequences deduced from the hypothesis include several details that had not been observed or thought of when the hypothesis was invented; and it is the unforeseen conse- quences of a theory that are of special importance in testing its value. Of these two witnesses, the central island gives the most outspoken and unimpeachable testimony. Hence to the central islands of barrier reefs we will for the moment attend. THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 323 The Central Islands of Barrier Reefs——The question now before us is: Are the features of an imagined central island, as deduced from the hypothesis here under consideration, successful counterparts of actual cen- tral islands? No, they are decidedly unsuccessful. The central islands of various barrier reefs, such as Ka-ndaé-vu, Fig. 23, in the Fiji group —one of the thirty or more reef-encircled islands that I saw in 1914 in the Pacific—and various other central islands that were then seen or that have been studied before and since on large-scale charts, contradict the deduced features of the hypothetical still-standing islands in certain essential particulars. A common type of actual island is shown in sector O, of Fig. 6; its base line is not simple, as in sectors G to K, but elaborately embayed; and the large confluent deltas that should advance cutside the simple margin of a well-dissected island, as in sector J, are represented only by small, separate deltas at the heads of bays and coves. Darwin long ago recognized that, in the embayed island of Vanikoro, which sector O represents sufficiently well, “the unusual depth of the channel [lagoon] between the shore and the reef . . . and the small quantity of low alluvial land at the foot of the mountains, all seem to show that this island has not remained long at its present level.” Fur- thermore, inasmuch as the Pacific contains many barrier-reef islands and many more atolls, we ought, if the hypothesis under consideration be correct, to find also a good number of worn-down islands in the inter- mediate stage of sector K ; but not a single example of such an island has been discovered. Again, the almost-atoll stage of sector LZ shows the small residual volcanic hills to be of low and subdued form; yet the actual form of residual volcanic hills which occupy only a small fraction of their lagoon, resembles the summits of the dissected volcano shown in sector O. Finally, not a single example of many elevated reefs and atolls has been described as consisting wholly of the slanting talus structure demanded by this hypothesis, as shown in section at M, Fig. 6. Hence, although the hypothesis explains the facts regarding the sea-level reefs that it was made to explain, it fails to explain certain other equally essential facts, and it must therefore be rejected. What commended the Still-Stand Theory?—Thus we are led back to the conclusion that Darwin reached long ago, for in his book on “Coral Reefs,” published in 1842, he considered the possibility of out- growing reefs around still-standing islands, and, as the quotation given above shows, wisely rejected it, because the consequences to which it led were not supported by the facts. Yet in the recent history of the coral- reef problem this crude hypothesis, instead of being rejected by every one, has been cordially received by a number of eminent geologists. What can have commended it? Did its chief advocate carefully discuss various alternative hypotheses and show them to be insufficient? He may have done so privately, but he published no such discussion. Did he discuss his own theory by analyzing the associated problems and de- 324 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY ducing their consequences in systematic fashion, in order to confront the consequences with the facts and thus reach an impartial judgment? It is of course possible that he may have done so, but his published articles do not suggest that he did. Is the-fundamental postulate of a still- standing island a sound one? No, for practically every oceanic island of which the history has been worked out in detail is found to have suffered some sort of change of attitude with respect to sea-level: hence the postulate of a still-standing island is probably incorrect. Can it be, perhaps, that the advocate of the still-standing hypothesis was so fully experienced in the study of coral reefs and of volcanic islands that his opinions were thereby well recommended? If we judge by the favor- able consideration that has beer so widely given to his hypothesis, this would appear to be the case; but alas, it was not. The advocate had been, before announcing the hypothesis, a member of an exploring ex- pedition, which had truly enough visited several volcanic and coral islands in the Pacific and the Atlantic, but the official narrative of the expedition states that the study of coral reefs was not within its scope; hence we must suppose that the coral-reef problem was not closely at- tended to during the voyage. , Neglect of Essential Factors——Nor could the literature of the coral-reef problem have been closely examined by the advocate of the still-stand theory either before or after the voyage, although the scien- tific world has a right to expect that it should be so examined by any- . one who, discarding a generally accepted theory, proposes to replace it by a new hypothesis. Had such an examination been made, an im- portant factor of the problem—Dana’s principle of shore-line develop- ment—would have been found, clearly announced by a competent in- vestigator and published thirty years earlier; and this factor would have prevented the acceptance of the new theory and reestablished confi- dence in the older theory. Indeed, if this factor had not been overlooked, the embayments of certain Pacific islands would probably have been correctly instead of incorrectly interpreted by the advocate of the still- stand theory; and he would thereby have been saved from presenting, in the report of the expedition to which he was attached, an erroneous ‘account of the maturely dissected, reef-encircled volcanic island of Matuku, in the Fiji group, where a drowned-valley embayment on its western side is described as a crater. Had the neighboring ring-shaped volcanic island of Totoya been visited, instead of Matuku, a crater, or rather a huge caldera, of volcanic origin would truly have been found, and such a caldera does not of itself testify against still-stand, for it may have been formed by explosion or by engulfment either below or above sea-level; but to mistake the embayment of Matuku for a crater is very much as if a traveller unacquainted with the effects of tornadoes on village architecture should, on following a storm track to a ruined dwelling house, mistake its dilapidated cellar, half-filled with rain water, for its vanished attic. The chief embayment of Matuku is, like THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 325 the many smaller ones, really a valley of erosion, deeply carved below any crater that may once have existed aloft, now half drowned by sub- sidence and therefore occupied by sea water. Three summits rise over 1,200 feet above the bay, about two miles distant on the northeast, east, and southeast; a sounding, about as far to the west of the bay as the three summits stand on the other side, shows a depth of 400 fathoms; two miles farther west the depth is 975 fathoms. A few pages farther on the report of the same exploring expedition announces a recent and slight elevation of a few feet in the wonder- fully embayed Fiji island of Ka-ndaé-vu, but says not a word of the evi- dence of vastly greater previous subsidence that an island of such pattern loudly proclaims. Evidently then, the problem of the sculp- ture of volcanic islands and the origin of their shorelines, closely asso- ciated as it is with the problem of coral reefs, had not been solved, nay, had not even been seriously studied by the advocate of the hypothesis that barrier reefs and atolls may be formed by outgrowing corals, ad- vancing on their own talus around still-standing islands, while the lagoon is etched out by solution and the island is worn down by erosion behind them. No wonder, therefore, that his incompetent hypothesis satisfied him. An Exceptional Island.—Is there then nothing to be said for the still-standing scheme? Yes, the island of Tahiti in the Society group has been instanced as supporting this hypothesis, for it has salient and imperfectly confluent deltas inside of its barrier reef, as the hypothesis of a still-standing island demands; but Darwin long ago recognized that such salient deltas are exceptions on barrier-reef islands, and cor- rectly explained them as marking, not a perpetual still-stand, but a pause in subsidence. He said: “At the Society archipelago... the shoalness of the lagoon channels round some of the islands, the number of islets formed on the reefs of other, and the broad belt of low- land at the foot of the mountains, indicate that, although there must have been great subsidence to have produced the barrier-reefs, there has since elapsed a long stationary period”; and he adds: “ This prob- ably is the ordinary course of events, subsidence supervening after long intervals of rest.” He was right, for the heads of the projecting deltas at Tahiti, Fig. 12, commonly enter a mile or more into the radial valleys back of the spur ends, precisely as they should if the island had been somewhat depressed after it was dissected, and had stood still for a time after it was depressed. Why Was the Still-Stand Theory Accepted?—Why, then, if the hypothesis of outgrowing reefs around still-standing islands really has so little recommendation, did it ever gain so much attention? Partly, I think, because, although very briefly announced, it was stated with confident emphasis instead of with critical analysis; for confidence and emphasis go, even in science, a great way; partly also because no mention was made of certain critical facts, namely, the embayed shore- 326 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY lines of the central islands with small deltas at the bay heads, which contradict certain essential consequences of the theory, namely, non- embayed shorelines with large outstanding deltas. The readers of the article which contained this “totally new departure in coral-reef litera- ture,” as an able critic wrote, seem to have accepted it as a complete statement of the case, from which no essential facts were omitted. Indeed one of the most competent of them, everywhere recognized as a leader in geological science, championed it by saying: “ We are driven to admit that barrier reefs may be formed without subsidence of the sea floor.” Thus the hypothesis of outgrowing reefs around still-standing. islands—a hypothesis that involves the extremely improbable funda- mental postulate that oceanic islands usually stand still, a hypothesis that was constructed on an inadequate basis of incomplete observation, a hypothesis that was framed without careful study of the literature of coral reefs, a hypothesis from which all consideration of an important associated problem was omitted and from which certain essential conse- quences could not, therefore, be critically dedueed—was announced with confident emphasis and championed with authoritative recommendation ; and, as a result this incompetent hypothesis has been, especially with regard to barrier-reefs, a bar to progress for thirty years; not because it was invented, but because it was announced and accepted without sufficient study of associated problems, by means of which alone its competence could be determined. Let me here explain briefly why so much time has been given to the consideration of an incompetent hypothesis. First, because it has been accepted by many home-students of the coral-reef problem; on that ground rather than on its merits it deserves attentive considera- tion. Second, because it is the duty of any investigator of a problem such as we are now discussing to examine on his own responsibility every hypothesis that has been put forward to explain it; and because it is particularly his duty to search out all the points where he has to differ from others who, just as earnestly as himself, have been striving for the truth. Finally, because it is part of his task to learn if pos- sible the grounds which led to the acceptance by others of what is to him unacceptable. Under the actual conditions of the case thirty years ago, it was perhaps not unnatural that many home-students of coral reefs should have accepted the still-stand hypothesis; for its advocate was a man of great experience in oceanographic work, of inspiring enthusiasm, and of delightful personality; and its leading champion was a man of exceptional competence in all branches of geological science and of unusual skill in the presentation of geological problems. More important still, both of these investigators frankly avowed that they had adopted the new still-stand hypothesis because it seemed more successful in explaining coral reefs than Darwin’s hypothesis of subsi- dence which they had previously regarded as correct, but which they had come to regard as unsuccessful. Both of them were genuinely and 7 THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 327 sincerely devoted to scientific research; hence how could any one, who had not the time to investigate for himself the question at issue, hesi- tate to accept the conclusion of these two eminent experts! It was therefore, as above said, not unnatural, under the conditions of the case thirty years ago, that the hypothesis thus proposed and guaranteed should go far toward replacing an earlier hypothesis that had till then enjoyed universal acceptance; but unhappily there is one condition of the case that, as already indicated, weakens it most seriously. Both the advocate and the champion of this hypothesis had omitted from their discussion a certain essential factor of the problem, namely the pattern of the central-island shoreline within barrier reefs; worse yet, they had, as above noted, completely overlooked a clear and con- clusive statement regarding the pattern of the central islands of barrier reefs that had been published some thirty years before in easily acces- sible works by an earlier and highly regarded investigator of the coral- reef problem, who surely must have been known by name to both the advocate and the champion of the new hypothesis. Hence, natural as it was that the apparently complete statement of the still-stand hypoth- esis should have found wide acceptance, it must be given up when the previously omitted elements of the problem are found to speak uncom- promisingly against it. Veneering Reef on. Wave-cut Platforms.—Let us now turn to an- other hypothesis: one which, without the intervention of a fringing reef, explains a barrier reef by supposing that it is a relatively thin ' yeneer of coral limestone built on the outer edge of a platform that has been cut by sea waves around a still-standing volcanic island; and which explains atolls without the intervention of barrier reefs by sup- posing them to be veneers on completely truncated, still-standing vol- canic islands. This hypothesis, like the one already considered, postu- lates still-standing volcanic islands; in view of the small thickness of its reefs it may be called the veneering hypothesis. Here the asso- ciated problem that we must consider is somewhat more complicated than before, because it includes the attack of the sea around the unde- fended island margin as well as that of subaerial erosion over its sur- face. A special sequence of forms must be produced as an island is worn away by the double attack, and the chief members of the sequence must be deduced, in order that they may be confronted with the facts. It is curious to note that here, as in the case of the previous theory, this duty has been altogether neglected. Under the double attack, a voleanic island, originally conical and undefended by any reef, will soon be cut away by the waves around its shore, like Nightingale island in the South Atlantic, well figured in the narrative volume of the Chal- lenger Report, while rain and streams are furrowing its slopes: the wave-cut platform will be backed by a steep cliff, notched at the top by hanging valleys, as in sectors 7 or J, Fig. 7. If a veneering reef is now established on the platform edge, as at H’ or J’, the retreat of the cliff, 328 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY as a cliff, will soon cease, and the hanging valleys will be cut down to sea-level ; deltas will grow in front of the valleys, and a talus will gather in the quiet water at the cliff base, which was clean swept by breaking waves before. If the veneering reef is not so soon established, the plat- form will be cut back to a greater width and the cliff to a greater height; this stage is verified by Tristan d’Acunha, another solitary volcanic island in the South Atlantic, also figured in the Challenger narrative ; on such becliffed islands, cascades from hanging valleys have been de- scribed, which give warrant for the hanging valley as a deduced feature of sector J, Fig. 9. An undefended island may be almost consumed, as in sector K, when only small stacks will remain; or it may be com- fi f. oft ee A ae cy Beis iy il ! Fic. 7. DIAGRAM oF SuccCESSIvVE STAGES OF REEF FORMATION, as deduced from the theory of veneering reefs on wave-cut platforms: sector O, type of actual barrier reef and its embayed central island. pletely truncated before a reef is established, and then the reef wil form an atoll. : Unsuccessful Consequences of the Veneering Theory.—Are the con- sequences of this theory, here graphically presented, confirmed when they are confronted with the facts of actual coral reefs and their asso- ciated islands? No, decidedly not. As before, the central islands of barrier reefs are again the most important independent witnesses put forth by the facts. Such islands are not cliffed around a non-embayed shoreline; they are, with hardly an exception, embayed between non- cliffed spurs, as in sector O, Fig. 7, or in Fig. 3. Furthermore, as there are many atolls in the ocean there should be also, if the veneer- ing hypothesis were true, many almost finished atoll platforms; that is, many wave-swept platforms not yet enclosed by veneering reefs, with a becliffed island remnant rising from the center; but no such becliffed island remnants in the center of a wave-swept rock platform are known ex- cept on the borders or outside of the coral-reef zone. Again, there are no known examples of elevated reefs possessing the structure here demanded; elevated reefs are often hundreds of feet in thickness, and THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 329 in no case are they reported to lie on broad wave-cut platforms. Fi- nally, this hypothesis is defective in that it furnishes no reason for the postponement of reef establishment while the platform is suffering preliminary abrasion, or for the early establishment of a veneering reef on a narrow wave-cut platform, or for the long delay before the estab- lishment of a reef on a broad one. Asa matter of observation, fringing reefs are occasionally found on young volcanic islands around which no cliff-bordered platform has been abraded, and after such reefs are formed, the waves can no longer attack the island back of the reef and cut platforms on it. Is the hypothesis of veneering reefs perhaps recommended by any special expertness of its advocates? No. The first observers to advo- cate it were two missionaries, about eighty years ago. Did they deduce the essential consequences of the hypothesis, somewhat as above, and confront them impartially with the facts? No: they left that for Dar- win to do a few years later; and when he showed that the central islands of barrier reefs have no such cliffs as the hypothesis demands, it was properly enough set aside in favor of his hypothesis of inter- mittent subsidence. But it was revived about fifty years later, this time by a surgeon of the British navy who had spent some years on certain islands of the coral zone but who was unfortunately untrained in physical geology; and again by a hydrographer, expert in marine surveying but apparently not practised in making critical choice among competing hypotheses; and by a zoologist and oceanographer of great experience, but in his case also without careful deduction of the becliffed consequences, and without any mention of the good and sufficient rea- sons that led Darwin to reject the hypothesis sixty years earlier. Did these later advocates of the veneering hypothesis give reasons for re- jecting other hypotheses and preferring their own? It must be supposed that they thought they did, but their reasons are not convincing. Insufficient Consideration of Possible Alternatives——For example, one of them said: “I will pass over the theory of subsidence, supported though it was by Dana, Couthouy and Beete Jukes, because the recent facts concerning the ocean depths and the regions of living and up- raised reefs compel us to regard it as no longer necessary”; that is, of two alternatives, he rejected one because its postulated subsidence was made no longer “necessary” by the possible correctness of the other; but he did not apply any impartial and crucial test as a means of mak- ing a logical choice between the two. Again the same investigator said: The more gradual the land-slope, the broader will be the submarine ledge [platform] cut out in the course of ages by the action of the sea, and the more distant will be the barrier-reef, that has grown up along its margin [as in Fig, 8]. This I believe to be the true explanation of the position of barrier reefs. Yet is it not immediately manifest that the same relation will obtain VOL. 11.—23. 330 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY in upgrowing reefs during subsidence, as Fig. 9 shows; and is it not further manifest that if this relation is produced by subsidence, it must be associated with an embayed central island, like the unsymmetrical Fic. 8. DIAGRAM OF AN UNSYMMETRICAL ISLAND, G, on both sides of which, H, shallow platforms are cut by waves, and reefs, J, K, are formed. fault-block island of Wakaya in central Fiji, as in the foreground of Fig. 10; while if it is produced by wave-cutting it must be associated with a cliff-rimmed, but not embayed central island, Fig 8, the like of which does not exist in the coral seas! Furthermore, there are well-known examples of central islands that have symmetrical slopes, but that stand to one side—sometimes to windward—of the lagoon center ; witness, as in the background of Fig. 10, the island of Makongai, not far from Wakaya, both enclosed in a figure-8 barrier reef; or the Up see e i q un = 7 4 Fig. 9. DIAGRAM OF AN UNSYMMBPETRICAL ISLAND, G, which subsides, H, as reefs, J, K, grow upward alongside of it. island of Mbengha, farther southwest in the Fiji group; these eccen- trically placed residual islands are the natural result of the submergence of an unsymmetrical initial island, such as might have been composed of several unequal volcanoes welded into a single mass; and as they both have embayed but not becliffed shore lines, they must have been diminished by submergence; not by abrasion. In view of such examples as these, all of which have long been charted, why should the author above quoted reject the possibility of submergence and accept the possibility of abrasion as a matter of ie THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 331 opinion or preference, instead of submitting both possibilities to some impartial and adequate tests, such as the presence of cliffs or of em- bayments so readily provides? The only answer is that he saw no neces- sity of looking for an impartial test; in other words, that his method MAKONGAL Zoe TN oT ie 2 Fic. 10. Biock DiacramM or Wak4yA, a tilted and slightly dissected fault block, and MAKONGAI, a maturely dissected volcanic mass, in the Fiji group; the two islands are enclosed in a double-looped barrier reef. Vertical sections, A and B, are drawn through the islands to show the inferred submarine relations of island to reef. of scientific investigation was not the same as the one here adopted. He seems to have been satisfied because his theory explained the things that it was invented to explain; he asked nothing more of it! Not only so, some of his readers also were satisfied, and spoke of his essay with high praise: hence we must suppose that they too were ready to accept a theory that merely explained the things that it was invented to explain, instead of suspending their judgment until the theory should be shown competent to explain also certain other things that it had not been imvented to explain. It is cases of this kind, which give warrant to the statement made on an earlier page, that in many pub- Fic. 11. SketcH or CLirrep Spur ENDs, northeast coast of the submaturely dissected yoleanic cone of Tahiti, Society islands. lished studies of the coral-reef problem, “the methods employed have been incomplete, illogical and untrustworthy, and the results reached are therefore unconvincing.” Exceptional Examples.—But has the veneering hypothesis really no independent support? Yes, in two exceptional examples the central islands of barrier reefs are cliffed around part of their margin: one is 332 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY Tahiti, Fig. 11, but there, as above intimated, it may be shown that the spur-end cliffs as well as the inter-spur valleys were cut when the island stood higher than now, and that since then the island has been submerged, for its valleys between the truncated spur ends are occu- pied either by arms of the sea or, more generally, by the heads of delta plains, as in Fig. 12. The other example is New Caledonia, which is strongly cliffed at its southeastern end and along part of the north- eastern side; but as at Tahiti, these cliffs, as well as the numerous val- leys of this long island, were cut when the island stood higher, and the co ae a Fic. 12. BIRD’S-EYE DIAGRAM OF NORTHERN COAST, TAHITI, showing cliffed spur ends, separated by delta-filled embayments and prograded by a half-mile alluvial plain. The plain is for the most part covered with palm trees. Papeete, the capitol, lies on the plain to the left of the diagram. e same submergence that has embayed the valleys has half-drowned the cliffs. Hence, the two best examples of becliffed islands, though pecu- liar in possessing cliffs, are not peculiar also in having stood still, for _ both have suffered submergence. These islands are truly of great in- terest and merit special study; but they are as truly exceptions in the long list of reef-encircled islands, in which the spurs that separate the embayments as a rule taper down gradually, and dip below the sea with nothing more than little nips or low bluffs cut by the lagoon waves close to present sea-level. The great majority of volcanic islands are not cliffed at all in the way the hypothesis of veneering barrier reefs and atolls demands, and for them the hypothesis must be rejected com- pletely. Yet this hypothesis was presented with so convinced an em- phasis by its above-quoted advocate, that an eminent geologist thereupon wrote: I have read Dr, —--——-————’s paper with great interest, and am of opinion that he has made out a very strong case indeed against the theory of THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 333 coral island formation advanced by Mr. Darwin. ... The famous Darwinian theory of coral reefs can no longer be said to hold the field. Another critic said that, if the facts and arguments here adduced had been known to Darwin, the great naturalist would have accepted the explanation of the phenomena now formulated, and would have given up his ingenious theory of gradual elevations and subsidences of the sea bottom. A third critic wrote, in view of the still-stand and the veneering theories : It is somewhat surprising that, in the discussion which has lately [1883-1888 | been carried on in the English reviews . . . regarding the new theory of coral reefs, no one should have dwelt upon the fact, that, with the exception of Dana, Jukes, and others who published their results on coral reefs soon after Darwin’s theory took the scientific world by storm, not a single recent investigator of coral reefs has been able to accept this explanation as applicable to the special dis- trict which he has examined. A fourth said: A singular feature of these papers [at the British Association meeting, 1888] is the almost complete unanimity with which those authors, who have them- selves practical experience of coral reefs, reject the subsidence theory as in- adequate, or unnecessary. Thus it would appear that Darwin’s theory was well nigh abandoned. But none of these critics asked: Are the central islands of barrier reefs cliffed or delta-fronted, as they should be according to other hypotheses ? All of which goes to show that the method of scientific investigation ap- plicable to coral reefs is far from having been standardized; for as soon as the consequences of the hypothesis of veneering reefs are ex- plicitly deduced and frankly confronted with the appropriate facts, the hypothesis must necessarily be given up by any independent in- vestigator who demands that such confrontation shall be successful before he gives faith to the hypothesis that brings it forth. Yet this theory was set forth for the Great Barrier reef of Australia with such vigor by a zoological expert that another zoological expert declared the theory of subsidence to be “absolutely excluded” as an explanation for that greatest of all reefs; although the not cliffed but deeply embayed coast of Queensland presents abundant and convincing evidence that strong subsidence has taken place, as was pointed out by Penck in 1896, as has later been shown by Andrews and other Australian observers in 1902, and following years, and as I had occasion of seeing for myself along a stretch of several hundred miles in 1914. (To be continued) os) io) rs THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY THE EXUDATION OF ICE FROM STEMS OF PLANTS By Dr. W. W. COBLENTZ U. S. BUREAU OF STANDARDS I. INTRODUCTION OCTURNAL radiation is generally a passing of radiant energy from terrestrial substances into space. On a clear night the rate at which radiation passes outward from a lamp-black surface is very great, amounting to about one tenth of the solar constant. Of course, not all substances lose heat at this rate. This loss of heat by radiation produces peculiar formations of ice, some of which will now be men- tioned. Ground Ice or Columnar Ice—The most familiar freak of ice formation occurs on bare, clayey soils which contain a certain minimum amount of moisture. If the moisture content of the soil falls below the minimum value (which no doubt varies for different soils) then evaporation occurs as rapidly as the moisture is brought to the surface (by capillary action) and no ice is formed. According to the writer’s observations the ice is formed in contact with a nucleus which may be a grain of sand, a small pebble, etc. The earthy material has a higher emissivity than the water, it cools the more rapidly, and the water is frozen to the under side of the nucleus. As heat is lost, more ice is formed and, as it accumulates, rises in columns, as it is to be observed everywhere on cold mornings. The water is supplied by capillary movement in the soil, from the surface of which the ground ice may be readily lifted, since in freezing weather the ice is not frozen into the soil.1 The general experience is to find the ground ice supporting a nucleus (say a grain of sand, or even large stones, 3 X 14 X 1 inches in size). The nuclei may be thinly distributed. The writer has ob- served several large areas, 3 < 14 feet which did not contain nuclei, from which it appears that this type of ice formation can occur without having a nucleus (gravel, etc.) to start the refrigeration. Anchor Ice.—Barnes* has made a prolonged study of the forma- tion of anchor ice at the bottom of the St. Lawrence river. This kind of ice consists of fine spicules which adhere to the bottom of the river. It is a friable mass which may vary from six to eight feet in thickness. According to Barnes this ice is formed as a result of the greater emis- 1 Abbe, Amer. Meteorological Jour., 9, p. 523, 1893. 2‘‘Tee Formation with Special Reference to Anchor Ice and Frazil,’’ H. T. Barnes, Monthly Weather Review, May, 1907, p. 225. ICE AND THE STEMS OF PLANTS 335 sivity, and hence the greater cooling of the material composing the river bottom. Hoar Frost.—This is another example of ice formation as the re- sult of cooling by radiation. Here, however, the accepted explanation is that the ice spicules are formed by accretion, as the result of the deposition of moisture from the surrounding air. The foregoing are familiar and interesting illustrations of ice formations on substances as the result primarily of the loss of heat by radiation. We have now to consider a rarer phenomenon, which is the subject of the present paper. Ice Formations on Plants.——According to the writer’s observations the amount of ice formed upon a plant stem is a function of (1) the rate at which water can rise by capillary action in the sap tubes within the stem, (2) the ease with which the moisture can pass out to the surface, (3) the rate of evaporation from the surface (convection, wind- velocity) and (4) the emissivity of the surface of the stem. Instead of the title “ Exudation of Ice,” a more pretentious title would have been “The Capillary Movement of Water—An Experimental Demon- stration by Means of the Formation of Ice Fringes on Plants.” This might appear more scientific and one could discuss the capillary move- ment of water as a function of the temperature of the stem; the size of bore and number of (sap) tubes; the thickness and permeability of the walls of these tubes, etc. However, the present communication makes no pretense at such completeness of the investigation. In fact, the subject of ice formation forced itself upon the writer at a time when other duties were pressing, and hence it could not be given the atten- tion it deserved. As a result, the experimental tests were usually carried out only to the extent of refuting the various notions held by various persons as to the cause of this ice formation. It was shown that the formation of fringes of ice on plant stems is not the result of accre- tion, hydrostatic pressure, rifts in the stem, moisture in the bark, the presence of sap, etc., but that it is the result primarily of the capillary movement of water in the numerous sap tubes which are to be found in those plant stems, upon which the ice formations are the most con- spicuous. II. HistortcaL Data One of the earliest descriptions of the exudation of ice fringes from plants was published by Herschel,? about eighty years ago. His ob- servations relate to the icy fringes which were formed around thistle stalks, and stumps of heliotropes many specimens of which were still green. Stephen Elliot* had previously described a remarkable pro- trusion of fibers of ice from the stems of flea bane (Conyza bifrons). 3 Sir John Herschel, Phil. Mag. (3), 2, p. 110, 1833. 4Stephen Elliot, ‘‘Sketch of the Botany of South Carolina and Georgia,’’ published in 1824; Vol. 2, p. 322. Quoted by Le Conte. 336 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY The fullest account, with an attempted explanation of this phe- nomenon, was given by John Le Conte’ about sixty-three years ago. His observations are on two species of flea bane, Pluchea bifrons, and Pluchea camphorata, which he found growing in wet soils, around ponds and along roadside ditches in the lowlands of South Carolina and Georgia. In these plants the root is perennial, but the stem is annual and herbaceous. Le Conte’s descriptions differ materially from my own. His ob- servations appeared to establish the following facts in relation to the phenomenon. 1. The depositions of ice are entirely confined to the immediate neighbor- hood of the roots of the plants, the upper parts of the tall unbroken stalks being quite free from them. They frequently commence two or three inches from the ground, and extend from three to four inches along the axis of the stem. The stalks are dead, and quite dry to within about six inches of the earth, below which they are generally green and succulent. The plant has a large and porous pith, which is always saturated with moisture, as high as six or seven inches from the base of the stem. From this it would appear that the ice was formed on the green stems, as was true of many of the specimens of heliotrope described by Herschel. 2..The ice emanates in a kind of riband, or frill-shaped, wavy, friable, semipellucid. excrescence, the structure of which (quoting Herschel) “is fibrous lke that of the fibrous variety of gypsum, presenting a glassy silky wavy surface; the direction of the fibers being at right angles to the stem or horizontal.” Le Conte found that the number of ribands varied from one to five, which issued from the stems in vertical or longitudinal lines, often un- symmetrically displaced around the axis. He frequently observed the icy excrescences to exceed five inches in length; often curled back so that the remote extremity of the frill came close to the line of attach- ment to the stalk. From this it may be noticed that the amount of ice formed is very considerable. Evidently the moisture must come from within the plant. The amount of water congealed during a single night is vastly too great to come from the aqueous vapor in the atmosphere, hence the phenomenon can not be a modification of hoar-frost. In fact, in the illustrations to be cited presently, which were observed by the writer, the excrescences of ice on one particular species of plant were formed every night which was sufficiently cool for ice formation, although there was little or no formation of hoar frost anywhere in the vicinity. 3. Although the ice sheets appeared to protrude from the interior of the stem, both Herschel and Le Conte found that usually the stems were solid and that the ice terminated at the surface. The point of attachment of the ice was always the wood, beneath the outer bark or epidermis, which the frozen sheets had in every instance stripped off, and forced out to a distance. 5 John Le Conte, Proc. Amer. Assoc. Adv. Sci., Vol. 3, p. 20, 1850. ICE AND THE STEMS OF PLANTS 337 When the frost was severe, Le Conte found that the ice riband was continuous with the frozen pith, through a longitudinal rift in the woody stem. 4. Le Conte found that the phenomenon took place in the same plant during several consecutive nights; and when the wood was not rifted, frequently from the same portion of the stalk, When the wood was split, however, the deposition of ice occurred lower down the stem, at a part which was unaffected by the frost of the previous night. The stalks thus became completely rifted by a succession of severe nights, from the height of six or seven inches down to the ground. This is unquestionably one of the reasons why these exudations of ice are seldom observed after the middle of the winter, for the stalks are usually destroyed before this period. : Ward® has given a rather popular description of the occurrence of ice fringes. He describes the fringes as projecting out horizontally, “not straight and stiff, but gently and gracefully curving or coiling into a beautiful conch-like roll at the distal end.” His observations were probably of short duration, otherwise he would have found but few instances in which the “ fringes are attached at regular intervals around the stem, like paddles of a turbine wheel.” He found that the bark was split into strips at the zone occupied by the ice-sheets. He con- cluded that the ice had passed through these rifts in the bark. He thought that the water might have been pressed or drawn up through the cambium layer. He wisely dismisses the explanation because it “explained too much, since no reason can be assigned why the phe- nomenon should not be universal and not confined to one species.”? In the present paper the micro-photographs of the cross-sections of various plants will assign this reason, viz., the difference in the porosity of the stems. Le Conte considered the ice formation on plants to be a physical phenomenon, having no connection with the vitality of the stem. His explanation of the formation was that the moisture from the pith passes out along the wedge-shaped medullary rays, which are to be found in abundance in this plant, and is frozen on the outside of the stem. He considered that the wedge-shaped medullary rays exerted a “ pro- jectile force” which brings the moisture to the surface. The exudation of ice columns from the earth he referred to the same cause, viz., a rapid and forcible expansion along capillary tubes. To the writer it does not appear necessary to postulate a complex “projectile force” to explain the ice fringes on plants. In fact, the plants upon which ice is formed in the great abundance have a pre- ponderance of sap tubes, only an insignificant part of the stem being occupied by medullary rays. 6 Ward, Botanical Gazette, 18, p. 183, 1893, ‘‘ Frost Freaks of the Dittany.’’ 7 Ward quotes Gray’s Manual, 1848, in which Helianthemum canadense is deseribed as behaving in a similar way. CO THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY ios) ie) III. Recent Data The present observations are on Cunila mariana, or Dittany, the stem of which is a herbaceous annual with perennial roots. This plant seems to thrive on dry ground, even on bare hillsides exposed to the blazing sun, where there is nothing but gravel and a few “asters.” Other samples were found under trees where either the shade or the gravelly character of the soil prevented a luxuriant growth of other plants. The finest samples were found on a hillside which contained plenty of moisture, which was free from trees, but contained shrubbery. The first observations were made on a frosty morning in November, 1913. The first example, because of its white ribbony character, was passed by, thinking it was something thrown from a passing carriage. The conspicuous fibrous white loops and ribbons drew my attention, and it was at once observed that they occurred upon only one species of herbaceous plant. Owing to the pressure of other problems requiring close attention, the tendency at the very first was to dismiss the subject by accepting Le Conte’s explanation that the moisture comes from the pith. This explanation was at once disproved, however, by the observations on the splinters of the Cunila stem, which formed ice always on the outside of the stem, but never on the pith. This, of course, should be expected, for pith is composed of small hexahedral cells along which water can not pass by capillary attraction, and it would be very unlikely that it would be transferred by soaking through the cell walls. It was concluded that the moisture for producing the ice fringe came from the sap tubes and experiments were devised to prove this assump- tion. Photographs were taken of thin sections across the stems of heliotrope, thistle and also of an aster which was found near a Cunila stalk. The object in giving these photo-micrographs (which were very kindly prepared by Mr. E. D. Tillyer) is to show typical examples which have but few sap tubes and which form but little or no ice; also typical examples of plants which have numerous sap tubes and which form an abundance of ice fringes. The aster is typical of plants having but few sap tubes. As shown in Fig. 1, the woody structure is very compact, with but few sap tubes. All these photo-microsections are magnified fifty times, from which one can obtain some idea of the great difference in porosity of the different plants. On only one occasion was ice observed upon the stem of the aster. The ice was a small “tooth” formed close to the ground. From the section shown in Fig. 1 it is evident that the structure of the wood fiber is so close that the moisture which is drawn up within the stem by capillary attraction can reach the surface of the stem at only a very slow rate. Hence the moisture disappears by evaporation as rapidly as it comes to the surface. The thistle (Fig. 2) and the heliotrope ICE AND THE STEMS OF PLANTS 339 (Fig. 3) stems have numerous large sap tubes. In the thistle stem there is a row of large tubes situated near the bark. The presence of Fic. 1. PHOTOMICROGRAPH OF A CROSS SECTION OF THE STEM OF AN ASTER. It is typical of plants having but few sap tubes, and forming no ice fringes. these large tubes filled with sap may explain the formation of ice fringes, as observed by Herschel. A photo-micrograph of a thin section of Cunila is shown in Fig. 4. The numerous holes in the wood are the “sap tubes,” which form an easy path for the moisture to rise within the stem, by capillary attrac- Fic. 2. PHOTOMICROGRAPH OF A SECTION OF THE STHM OF A THISTLE, showing numerous sap tubes. 340 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY — tion. It would be interesting to determine to what extent this capillary movement of water is affected by the temperature of the surroundings, The explanation of the formation of ice fringes, which are found to occur so abundantly upon the stems of the Cuntla, and which are not found upon other plants, is based upon the presence of a great Fic. 3. PHOTOMICROGRAPH OF A CROSS SECTION OF THE STEM OF HELIOTROPH, showing numerous but widely separated sap tubes. number of closely adjoining sap tubes within the stem of the Cunzla. But even-the very woody portion of the base of the Cuntla stem was found to be inactive in the formation of ice fringes. Fic. 4. PHOTOMICROGRAPH OF A Cross SECTION OF THE STEM OF Cunila mariana, It is typical of plants having an abundance of sap tubes which transfer moisture to the surface by capillary attraction of the water in the soil. It was found that the ice fringes rarely start from the side of the stem where the pith is closest to the bark. This eliminates to some extent the question whether the pith is instrumental in forming the ice ICH AND THE STEMS OF PLANTS 341 fringes. In the splinters (and in the rifted stems) of Cwnila at no time was ice found to have formed along the line of separation of the stem. This seemed puzzling at first, for it appeared to contradict the idea that the moisture comes from the sap tubes within the stem; in which case one would expect to find the formation of ice fringes facili- tated upon the surface laid bare by splitting. The microsections of the Cunila stems show in a very unexpected manner why no ice-fringes are formed upon the rifted surface of the stem. As already stated, the rift always occurs at the “corners” of the pith where the woody part of the stem is the thinnest. In Fig. 4 it may be noticed that at these four points, where the wood is the thinnest, there are but few, if any, sap tubes. Hence one need not expect, as a rule, to find ice formations upon the surfaces formed by splitting. IV. OBSERVATIONS SHOWING HOW THE ICE FRINGE GROWS One of the most interesting observations was on the formation of the ice fringe from its very beginning. This was witnessed by several of my colleagues who were called in to verify the observations. On a cold morning, February 16, 1913, several stems, placed in water, were exposed outside the laboratory window, and in about 20 minutes the ice fringe was observed to be forming. It consisted of a row of fine hairs extending up and down over a length of about 4 mm. of the stem, and projecting out horizontally 0.2 to 0.3 mm., as shown in Fig 5, a. These filaments were visible only when viewed against sky light, and they melted immediately on lifting the glass cover. The fringe did not appear to form at the line where the pith is closest to the surface of the stem. The experiment was repeated again during the evening. Within half an hour after placing the samples in the cold air one stem showed several fringes in the form of thin transparent “ teeth,” each one being about 12 mm. in length and about 1 mm. in height. Another stem showed a fine hairy fringe which was visible when viewed against a gaslight. Within half an hour this hairy fringe appeared to be solid with some of the fine hairs extending horizontally outward through the solid “ tooth” of ice, as shown in Fig. 5, b. This, of course, is the general structure of the fringes. By the next morning numer- ous wide fringes had formed on these stems. In another sample, the tooth of ice pushed out a narrow strip of bark. In these tests the receptacle containing the water was small, and hence the whole cooled very rapidly and the water froze, which prevented the growth of the ice fringes. It is to be noticed that the ice fringe forms some distance up the stem at a point where it cools the quickest and where the moisture has risen to about its maximum height. The experiment was repeated (“Test C,” which was started February 17, contained half a dozen samples of Cunila and a stem of an “aster”) using a large test tube. The test tube was imbedded in wool to retard cooling and 342 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY freezing. Within 15 minutes after placing this test outside of the laboratory window two small fringes, 1.5 mm. long and about 0.3 mm. high, were noticed when viewed against sky light. This test was pro- ICE ICE Fig. 5. ILLUSTRATING SUCCESSIVE STAGES IN THE GROWTH OF THE ICB FRINGE on the stem of Cunila mariana when placed in water and exposed to a freezing atmosphere. longed for some days and nights and a photograph was taken (February 18, 1913) (Fig. 6) showing that the stems in water form ice just as they do when attached to the roots. In this photograph, which is magnified slightly (1.2) about one third of the upper part of the largest fringe is . broken off. These fringes appear to be a little more transparent than those found in the field, owing to the fact that they had begun to melt while taking the photograph. No ice or moisture was formed upon the aster stem, which is in agreement with the field observations. As may be seen from Fig. 4, the Cunila stem on drying (shrinking) splits easily into four parts, owing to the small amount of wood fiber at the four “sides” of the stem. One of the samples used in “Test C” was a splinter, consisting of one quarter of the stem, about 6 cm. in é length, with a line of pith adhering to the inner side. On the follow- ing morning, and on subsequent days, this splinter showed a fringe of ice on the woody surface, but at no time was there ice formed on the pith. An interesting feature (which to the writer became a common observation) was that the ice fringe did not always start at the “cor- ner” of the stem where the wood is thinnest, but at a mid-point (see Fig. 4). From the photo-micrograph of a thin section of the stem (Fig. 4) it appears that the largest part f the ice fringe may form at tl shin! or the 1ce g h c 1€ ppon SrpMs or Ounila mariana which were point where the sap tubes lie nearest in a test tube containing water. the surface, hence where the moisture can be supplied the most easily. SHOWING Ich FRINGES FROZHN ICH AND THE STEMS OF PLANTS 343 The ease with which these stems became saturated with water after having been drying for weeks is another item worth noticing. All the stems used in “Tests C and D” (Fig. 6 is Test C) had been in the laboratory for some time. Some of them had been gathered in No- vember, 1913, and had been freed of bark by previous ice formations. It is generally supposed that the ice is formed more easily in the fall (when the plants are fresh) than in the late winter. This seems to be true to some extent according to my field observations and to my laboratory tests. In the latter the ice did not seem to form so abundantly after the stems had soaked for some weeks. It seemed as though the sap tubes became clogged or the plant had begun to decay. V. DESCRIPTION OF PHOTOGRAPHS OF ICE FRINGES The attempts at photographing the ice fringes as they occurred in the woods were far from satisfactory. This was owing to the fact that at 8 A.M. the illumination was low. A wide stop was used in the camera and consequently the objects are in focus only in the center of the photograph. They serve the purpose, however, to illustrate their general appearance as found in the woods. The ice fringes are gen- erally viewed at an angle at about 45° with the ground. The photographs in Fig. 7 were obtained in January, 1915. They are typical of what one finds as regards size and general appearance of the ice fringes. The fringe in the lower right-hand corner is com- posed of three whorls. The open space in the fringe is shown by the round dark spot in the center. The photographs shown in Fig. 8 were obtained in the middle of January, 1915. The ice formation on the stalk in the lower left-hand corner of the photograph contains two beautifully folded fringes, the markings of which are unfortunately lost in the print. The finest photographs were obtained by collecting a number of ice fringes one cold frosty morning (January 6, 1914) and having them photographed at the Bureau of Standards. Grateful acknowledgment is due Mr. E. D. Tillyer for his painstaking care in making these photographs, which no doubt are the finest records yet obtained of these beautiful ice formations. In Fig. 9 the four most conspicuous ice fringes are lettered a, B, c, d, which makes identification easy in Figs. 10 and 11. In these illustra- tions the ice fringes were photographed from different sides. In Fig. 9, a, it may be noticed that the stem is free from bark. In Figs. 9 and 10 an extremely thin delicate fringe may be noticed protruding from what appears to be a rift in the stem, but what in reality is a piece of bark. It is an excellent illustration of the second stage in the forma- tion of the ice fringe, as described on a preceding page and illustrated 344 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY in Fig. 5, b. In Fig. 10 the oft-mentioned, thin, wedge-shaped fringe (see Fig. 9) is shown to advantage, protruding (upwards in the photo- graph) from above the large fringes. The Cunila stalk (Figs. 10 and 11) shown in these plates is typical of what one finds after several ice formations, when the stem is well stripped of bark. The stem is 2.2 mm. in diameter and it is not rifted. As shown in Fig. 10, the “width” of the fringe adhering to the stem is 83cm. It extends out horizontally 3 cm. from the stem. The distance from the stem to the extreme distal end of the loop is 4em. The weight of the ice formation is over 5 grams. Fig. 9, b, consists of three splin- ters, united at the base of the stem. They are, of course, the remnants of the stalk which had long since Fic. 7. A Connection or 6 Puoro- disappeared. The dark line in the ma ee FORMATIONS “wood 1s: the pial, which is shown to better advantage in Fig. 11. In Figs. 9, d, and 11, b, the pith-side of the splinters is shown to advantage. We thus have a photographic record of the ice for- mation, not only upon the unrifted stalk, Fig. 9, a, but also of the formation on the rifted stalk, Fig. 9, c, and of the forma- tion upon the bare splinters, Fig. 9, b and d. The fringe in Fig. 9, 6, is an unusu- ally interesting ice formation. The pecul- iar whorl in the center is the meeting point of two fringes (see Fig. 12) both of which began curving clockwise. The ex- treme thinness and the great transparency is to be noticed by the light and the dark streaks through the fringes in Fig. 9, d. The small ice fringes on the stalk shown in Figs. 9, c, and 11, c, are of interest be- cause they occur upon a thin stem which is split into two parts, the rift being easily distinguished in the photographs. In fact, most of the rift is above the ice fringes. This ice formation is also conspicuous in having pushed out some of the bark as : or Four PuorocrapHs or Icp illustrated in Fig. 5, c. This is an excel- rnixars on Cunila. Fic, 8. SHOWING A COLLECTION ICH AND THE STEMS OF PLANTS ~ I + Jt lent photographic record showing that the ice is not formed upon the pith (Fig. 9, 0) or in the rift of the Cunila stem. Figs. 9, d and 11, d, give a further illustration of the formation of ice fringes upon fragments of stems of the Cunila. ‘The sample is a very small one. The stump of the stalk had to be cut out of the ground Fic. 9 PHOTOGRAPHS OF Ick FRINGES ON Cunila mariana. in order to obtain the fringes. Some of the ground is still adhering to the stem. One of the fringes is broken off. The extremely thin translucent fringe (it appears to be dark, owing to the dark background) on the right-hand side of Fig. 9, d, is an excellent photographic record of the manner of growth of the ice fringe—as described on a previous Fic. 10. ENLARGED VIEW OF Ice FRINGES ON COunila. 346 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY page. The growth of the: fringe is along a straight edge which appears almost horizontal in the photograph. to the peculiar curvature of the fringe. This, however, is partly owing The distal edge is straight and Fig. 11. ENLARGED VIEW OF ICE FRINGES ON Cunila. smooth, just as it started when near the stem. ‘The photographic record is therefore an excellent contradiction of the hoar-frost theory of accumulation in which the ice is formed in spicules. The dark streak PITH PITH Fic. 12. ILLUSTRATING THD PHCcuLIAR GROWTH OF THE Ick FRINGE SHOWN IN FIGs. 9 AND 110. along the fragment of stem is pith. side of the stem. In Fig. 12 A The ice fringe is upon the woody is given a diagrammatic illustration of the whorled fringe shown in Figs. 9 and 11, b. All the plates show ICH AND THE STEMS OF PLANTS 347 fragments of ice fringes, the bright and dark streaks of which are owing to the difference in thickness and transparency of the ice. Fig. 6 men- tioned elsewhere is a photographic record of the laboratory. It was Fic. 18. ILLUSTRATING THE BEGINNING OF THE ICE-FORMATION AS OBSERVED IN THB FIELD AND IN THE LABORATORY. taken by the writer Feb. 18, 1914. The test-tube was about 20 mm. in diameter, which gives one some idea of the dimensions. The test is de- scribed on a preceding page. This record is of interest mainly in showing that the Cunila stems after having been in the laboratory for some months form ice fringes just as they do when attached to the roots. In Figs. 13 and 14 are given illustrations of the growth of ice fringes g ICE Fic. 14. ILLUSTRATING LATER STAGES IN THE FORMATION OF ICE FRINGES AS OB- SERVED IN THE FIELD. as observed in the field and in the laboratory. They are self-explana- tory, and while it is true that they are diagrammatic, they nevertheless illustrate the complex and diversified manner in which the fringes occur. It seems needless to say that they are reproduced from sketches made at the time of observation. 348 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY VI. SUMMARY. This paper deals with the formation of ice fringes upon the Dittany, Cunila mariana. he data presented are based upon experiments and observations, in the field and in the laboratory. It was observed that the ice fringes are formed when the tempera- ture falls to freezing (0° C., 32° F.); but they are not a function of the hoar-frost which may be present upon the ground. The ice fringes do not form upon the side of a splinter which con- tains the pith or upon the line of fracture, but upon the outer woody surface. The formation of the ice fringe, however, is not a function of the surface condition of the stem. The stem is frequently found to be cracked, but usually no ice protrudes from the rifts. The growth of the ice fringe ceases when the ground is frozen to a depth of 2 to 5 cm., and when the moisture in the stem is frozen. The size of the ice fringes and the height to which they extend above the ground depend upon the rate of evaporation from the stem, and upon the amount of moisture in the ground. Over 5 grams of ise may be formed upon a single plant during a single night. Photographs are given of ice fringes formed upon stems which had been kept in the laboratory several months. They show that the ice may be formed upon stems without the roots. Hence the ice is not formed as a result of hydrostatic pressure exerted by the roots which are perennial. All the observations are in agreement in showing that the moisture rises in the stem as the result of capillary attraction. The height (1 to 5 em.) to which the moisture can rise within the stem is governed partly by the rate of evaporation from the surface. Photomicrographs of thin sections of plants are given, which show the structure of stems of plants which do not form ice fringes; also photomicrographs of sec- tions of stems of plants which form ice fringes. It is shown that those plants which form ice fringes the most readily and in the greatest abundance have the most sap tubes. The ice fringe is a composite of a number of very thin ribbons. In the laboratory the formation of the ice fringe was observed from its very beginning. The first stage in the production of the ice fringe con- sists of a single row of fine hair-like filaments of ice. This row of ice filaments lengthens up and down the stem. ‘The filaments increase in number, thus forming a solid wedge-shaped tooth of ice, which consti- tutes the second stage of development. In the third stage of develop- ment the wedge-shaped tooth of ice widens and increases in length as the result of freezing of the water which continues to soak out of the stem. There appears to be no difference between the formation of ICH AND THE STEMS OF PLANTS 340 these ice fringes and the columnar ice formed on wet soils; other than that, in the latter, a particle of gravel usually forms the nucleus to start the congelation. In both cases the moisture is brought to the surface by capillary action. When the rate of supply to the surface is more rapid than the loss of evaporation, and the air is at a sufficiently low temperature, ice is formed. 350 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY JAVA, THE EXPLOITED ISLAND By Dr. ALFRED GOLDSBOROUGH MAYER SURVIVOR from an age of richer color than our own is the templed hill of Borobodoer in the middle of Java. Here, more than a thousand years ago, the Hindu conquerors wrought honor to their “ Mount of Buddha” by surrounding the dome- like reliquary at its summit with ten ornamented terraces of stone, en- easing the sides of the hill in an ordered symmetry of angled walls, and portals, and of lattice-covered statues of the Buddha, all wonder- ful in the vast labor of the sculptured story of their creed. Then, in after centuries, the sword and the Koran came from beyond the seas and the day of the Hindu passed, to be forgotten as only the East can forget a glory that has gone. Then it was that those who loved the old temple were forced to bury the doomed shrines beneath the kindly sod, and thus in oblivion they survived until the European came to cherish and restore. Secluded in the deep country far from the haunts of trade, within but apart from the modern world, the temple les as if dreaming in the spirit of its worshipper’s Nirvana; peaceful in the sunset of its days. while green around it lies a valley rich in rice and palms, and, high above, one sees the smoking summits of volcanoes hushed in slumber. The horde of Mahomet came and the Buddhist died in tragedy, yet after a thousand years the stones of Borobodoer remain as an Alhambra- like reminder of his culture and his pride; but Java with its thirty mil- lions toils on unmoved by any inspiration from its past. Nourished in body, yet starved in spirit, it plods through its thousand rice fields within sight of the temple walls. The garden par excellence of the tropic world is Java, yet intellec- tually it is but a cemetery of withered hopes and ambitions wrecked in mockery, for over all there broods the dull fatalism of despair—the “sufficient unto the day ” of the conquered follower of Mahomet. Ambition, if it exists in the Java of to-day, seems powerless to raise its people above the condition of the Asiatic peasant. There is no well- to-do class of native artisans, and one may travel throughout the land and find hardly a native shop upon whose wares the European may be- stow a glance of admiration, save only for the vanishing art of batick cloth, and the still more moribund manufacture of the Krees. Ant-like over the whole land, in every view, there swarms the dull- faced, docile coolie of the soil. Measured by standards of morality, JAVA, THE EXPLOITED ISLAND 351 culture and ambition, the Javanese of to-day are negative. Their Mohammedanism is of an insipid type that tolerates the drinking of wine, permits women to go unveiled, is lax respecting the observance of prayer, and sanctions the representation of the human form in art pro- vided the figures conform to the spider-like grotesqueness of the batick decorations. Even a pig fattens comfortably in the back yard, destined, however, to be sold to the “ heathen” Chinese, we Fig. 18. DIAGRAM oF Succusstvp SucTorS OF REEF FORMATION, as deduced from Dar- win’s theory of upgrowing reefs on subsiding islands. face is eroded and a reef grows up around it. As before we begin in sector H, Fig. 13, with a large volcanic island, built up by frequent eruptions from the ocean bottom to some thousands of feet above the ocean surface. In due time a narrow fringing reef is established around its shores, interrupted at stream mouths where much detritus is washed down from the sharp-cut young valleys. Subsidence may have been going on slowly while eruptive upbuilding was going on more rapidly; now eruption has ceased, but subsidence is assumed to continue. What will be its effects? The effects of elaborate dissection mae STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 481 and moderate subsidence are shown in sector J; the effects of continued dissection and greater subsidence in sector K: and of complete sub- mergence in sector L. This may be illustrated in another manner: During the progressive changes caused by erosion and subsidence, the simple initial shoreline of the central island consequent on eruption, shown in the background block of Fig. 14, must be changed to an in- dented or embayed shoreline consequent on the partial submergence of a dissected cone, as shown in the middle section of the figure. Even- tually the island sinks out of sight and the atoll reef grows up, enclos- ing the uninterrupted lagoon, as in the foreground of Fig. 14. Sen T a aS SS Fie. 14. BLock DIAGRAM or A SUBSIDING VOLCANIC ISLAND IN AN OCHAN OF Constant LbyEL. Background block, a high-standing island with a simple shore line bordered by a fringing reef; middle block, a partly submerged island with an embayed shore line and a barrier reef enclosing a lagoon; foreground block, an atoll reef around an uninterrupted lagoon over a vanished island. The proportion of the several ingredients in the lagoon deposits will vary according to the size of the reef, the strength of the waves, the size of the island, and so on. The horizontal lagoon layers must rest unconformably on the eroded flanks of the subsiding volcano, as is shown in section M on the side of sector L, Fig. 13. Outside of the reef there should be a long, sloping talus, largely composed of coral fragments, except that opposite each pass or break in the reef, where the great volume of sea water that surges in over the reef-flat must find its escape, there should be a significant outwash of fine volcanic waste so long as the lagoon is of moderate width; for the lost volume of the initial volcano can not be represented only by the near-shore intermixture of volcanic detritus with the calcareous lagoon beds. The lower ends of the slanting layers of exterior talus thus formed must lie on the submarine constructional slope of the volcanic cone. VOL. I1.—33 482 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY Two of these consequences deserve more emphasis. First, it must be understood that production of an indented shoreline, as in Fig. 15, by the subsidence of a dissected island is not a vague speculation; it is a geometrical necessity of the same order as that which defines the pat- tern of the conic sections; for the intersection of a fluted cone by the level surface of the sea must be an indented line. Second, if the sub- sidence is accelerated, the reefs may be incompletely built up to the Fic. 15. THE EMBAYrED SHorRE LINE AT THE NORTHWEST END OF THE PARTLY SUBMERGED ISLAND OF NEw CALEDONIA; the water is part of the large lagoon enclosed by an extensive barrier reef. The farther shore line should be level. surface, and appear only in narrow and discontinuous patches; or, if subsidence be over-rapid, the reef-building corals may be drowned by being submerged to too great a depth; if the subsidence is then retarded, a new fringing reef will be established on the submerged flanks of the island and will in time develop into a new barrier reef of smaller radius than before; in the early stage of the second reef the amount of subsi- dence indicated by the breadth of its lagoon will be much less than that indicated by the size of the embayments. But if it is an atoll that is thus drowned, it can not grow up until it is again uplifted nearer the surface or until it is built up to less depth by organisms other than reef-building corals. On the other hand, if subsidence ceases for a sufficient time, a barrier reef will widen by outward growth and inward over-wash, the deltas will be built forward and the lagoon will fill up; thus a broad, mature reef plain will, if the still-stand pause lasts long enough, more or less completely replace the narrow young reef and the lagoon. A brief and small elevation may occur at any stage, uplifting the reef a few feet out of water, when it will be attacked and dissected a, >) STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 483 by weather and waves, or submerged if subsidence sets in again. The reason that these consequences are so varied is evidently that subsi- dence is a much more variable process than standing still. Success of Darwin’s Theory.—Now how did this old theory fare? It gained immediate and universal acceptance. Was this because its author’s experience was such as greatly to commend it? By no means; for Darwin was then a young naturalist, just returned from his first and only voyage of exploration. Did he consider other theories also? Yes, he did that most fairly and candidly; the theory of outgrowing reefs around still-standing islands, the theory of veneering reefs on wave-cut platforms, and several other theories were carefully examined, and critical reasons were stated for their rejection. Did the young naturalist deduce all the consequences of his theory, somewhat as above stated? No, not all; he stated several of them clearly enough, but he unfortunately made the serious error of overlooking one of the most essential consequences, namely the occurrence of embayed shorelines around the subsided central islands of barrier reefs; and thus failed to secure for this theory the confirmation that might have come from its suc- cess in explaining certain things that it was not invented to explain, as well as all the things that it was invented to explain. Why, then, was his theory received with so great favor? Evidently because those who ac- cepted it were not in the habit of demanding that a successful theory should do something more than explain the things that it was invented to explain, and because they were satisfied on finding that it provided a simple, easily conceived scheme for correlating and explaining the numerous and varied facts that it was made to explain. Was that not enough to establish it? It seems to have been enough, as long as the theory had no serious competitors; for it was not only universally ac- cepted, but as late as 1882 was referred to by an eminent critic as “a theory which for simplicity and grandeur strikes every reader with as- tonishment. . . . No more admirable example of scientific method was ever given to the world.” Darwin’s exposition of his theory was cer- tainly admirable, but it is going too far to say that a theory, from which the essential element of independent confirmation was lacking, is as admirable an example of scientific method as the world has seen. Unwarranted Loss of Faith in Darwin’s Theory.—Naturally enough, when another possible theory was put forward, a critic, who had no in- dependent and crucial test in mind by which his belief in an earlier theory was compelled, lost his confidence in it, even though the later one had only the same insufficient recommendation of explaining what it was made to explain; for it was the same critic who, only a year after commending Darwin’s theory of subsidence in the glowing terms just quoted, abandoned it and became the avowed champion of the theory of outgrowing reefs on still-standing islands. He may even then have 484 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY felt the keen regret expressed twenty years later “ that this brilliant gen- eralization of the great naturalist [Darwin] has been deprived of the wide application which for many years we attributed to it,” for he wrote: In face of the evidence which has now been accumulated, I can no longer regard the ... theory [of subsidence] as generally applicable. . . . No satis- factory proofs of a general subsidence have been obtained from the region of coral reefs, except from the structure of the reefs themselves, and this is an inference only, which is now disputed. From the nature of the case, indeed, traces of subsidence can hardly be expected. True, the fact that the depth of certain barrier-reef lagoons had been found greater than 20 or 25 fathoms, the limiting depth for the growth of reef-building corals, was taken to indicate subsidence for those particular reefs, but not for other barrier reefs within which the lagoons were shallower. Yet it is precisely a general proof of subsidence, at once simple and convincing, that had been independently discovered and published by an earlier and responsible investigator thirty years before, and that was completely overlooked by those who accepted the newer theories ; namely, the occurrence of embayments in the central islands of barrier reefs, by which Dana had not merely given new support to, but had provided much-needed confirmation for Darwin’s theory; and the most curious thing about the matter is that the eminent geologist, who, after he had abandoned Darwin’s theory, championed the still-stand theory in the sentences just quoted, had himself, in an admirable book written nearly twenty years earlier, explicitly recognized the origin of embayments by submergence; for he then said: The sea lochs of the west coast [of Scotland] are thus not cut out by the waves, but old glens that have been submerged beneath the sea. This is just as true for the numerous bays of the antipodal island of New Caledonia with its great barrier reefs as for the sea-lochs of Old Caledonia. In view of all this one must wish that the above-quoted champion of good work in all branches of geology would apply the ele- mentary physiographic principle of shoreline development, not only to the drowned glens of Scotland, but also to the embayments of the reef- encircled Pacific islands where it is so clearly pertinent, and thereupon modify his conclusion that the theory of subsidence is no longer gen- erally applicable in the explanation of coral reefs; for we may surely say of him what he said of an earlier student: The example of Darwin’s own candor and overmastering love of truth remains to assure us that no one would have welcomed fresh discoveries [or, as we may interpolate, the resurrection of old discoveries] more heartily than he, even should they lead to the setting aside of his own work. STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 485 When the history of natural science is written, it will, I believe, come to be regarded as a curious commentary on the scientific methods of the nineteenth century, that choice among the various hypotheses invented for the explanation of coral reefs was guided so largely by personal habits of thought rather than by logical demonstration; for clearly enough the really successful one among all the proposed hypoth- eses can be detected only by its ability to survive a crucial test; that is, by its capacity to explain certain essential facts not in mind when it was invented and not explicable by any other hypothesis. A still more curious comment will be pronounced on the coral-reef chapter of scien- tific history, when it is learned that, as has been shown, a crucial test of the most admirably simple and convincing kind had been, as far as barrier reefs are concerned, discovered and announced a very few years after the publication of Darwin’s theory of subsidence, but that it re- mained unnoticed for years thereafter. It never came to the atten- tion of the author of the subsidence theory himself, perhaps because, as he wrote, “ geologists do not read each other’s bcoks”; and it seems to have been altogether unknown to the inventors of the later alternative theories, who, had they been better informed, would have at once per- ceived that their inventions were incompetent. Dana’s Confirmation of Darwin's Theory.—From what has now been said, the nature of Dana’s confirmation of Darwin’s theory must be clear. The only obscure matter is: why was the clear confirmation so generally overlooked? Dana wrote in his report on the Geology of the United States Exploring Expedition, published in 1849: The very features of the land [of barrier-reef islands], the deep indenta- tions, are sufficient evidence of subsidence to one who has studied the character of the Pacific islands. Farther on in the same volume, under the general heading, “ Evi- dence of Subsidence,” and the special heading, “Deep Bay-indenta- tions in Coasts as the Terminations of Valleys,” he stated the case more fully as follows: In the remarks upon the valleys of the Pacific islands, it has been shown that they were in general formed by the waters of the land, unaided by the sea; that the sea tends only to level off the coast, or give it an even outline. When there- fore we find the several valleys continued on beneath the sea, and their enclosing ridges standing out in long narrow points, there is reason to expect that the island has subsided after the formation of the valleys. For such an island as Tahiti could not subside even a few scores of feet without changing the even outline into one of deep coves or bays, the ridges projecting out to sea on every side. ... The absence of such coves, on the contrary, is evidence that any sub- sidence which has taken place has been comparatively small in amount. This explanation has been abundantly confirmed by later investiga- tions ; the principles that it involves are to-day everywhere accepted as 486 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY fundamental in the study of shorelines. The submergence of a moun- tainous coast must necessarily produce an embayed shoreline, with many out-stretching points of the land separating as many in-reaching arms of the sea. Bays thus produced are often called drowned valleys, in view of their origin. They are beautifully exemplified in many parts of the world far outside of the coral zone, as in the accompanying view of the Bay of Islands in northern New Zealand, Fig. 16. Simple as Fic. 16. Part oF THE BAy oF ISLANDS, a half-submerged district in northern New Zealand. the explanation of embayed shorelines by submergence is, it was first recognized by Dana in 1839 when he was on a mountain peak in Tahiti; he was indeed the first man in the whole world to perceive that valleys, half drowned by submergence, must form bays; and conversely that bays, which are continued downward from the non-drowned upper part of valleys, demonstrate submergence. But it was not alone that Dana gave this simple explanation of embayed coasts; he demonstrated fur- ther that embayments can not be the work of the sea, as seems to have been Darwin’s idea, for Dana saw that the sea, unhindered by coral reefs in its attack upon a land margin, tends to simplify an indented coast line by cutting back its promontories, so that the complexity of outline seen in an alternation of lobate promontories and branching bays, inter- locking with one another in intricate fashion when initiated by sub- STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 487 sidence, would be changed to a less irregularity of outline as the land heads were cut back in retreating cliffs, and the bay heads were filled up with advancing deltas; and that there would eventually be developed a marked simplicity of outline when the cliffs were cut farther back than the initial heads of the bays. Dana had good ground for his ex- Sh SS AKIN DR ee M Fig. 17. DIAGRAM OF EMBAYMENTS AS IMAGINED ON A NON-SUBSIDED VOLCANIC ISLAND; K, between two advancing lava flows; L, in a transverse down-faulted trough; M, in a landslide cavity. planation, for he was convinced that the valleys of the land, be they the short radial valleys such as he saw on the island of Tahiti, or the great complex of valleys such as he observed in the Blue Mountain plateau of Australia, are the product of subaerial erosion which works only above sea-level; it was for this good reason he concluded that a valley which is prolonged in a bay necessarily indicates submergence. This point is evidently important; for if a bay occupy a reentrant be- tween two salient lava flows, as at K, Fig. 17, such as occur on the Fiji island of Taviuni, where recent volcanic action has taken place; or if a bay occupy part of a down-faulted trough or bight in a volcanic cone, as at L or M, such as perhaps occurs in the Fiji island of Moala; or if a bay occupy a large caldera, like that of Totoya, already mentioned, ss : Cn yS Si ye aX Cd AS i Fic. 18. DIAGRAM OF PART OF THE SAMB ISLAND AFTER SLIGHT DISSECTION AND PARTIAL SUBMERGENCE, showing reentrant embayments at valley mouths, N, P; and around the ravine sides of a down-faulted trough, O, and of a landslide cavity Q. no subsidence would be thereby proved, inasmuch as these peculiar and easily recognizable forms can be produced by volcanic action either at or below or above sea-level: yet if the sides of an embayed bight Q, or trough O, are ravined, as in Fig. 18, and each ravine descends to a cove 488 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY in the shoreline of embayment, the side coves prove submergence after the down-faulting and erosion, even if the embayment of the down-faulted space does not; and such is the case in Moala: likewise, small embay- ments in a dissected caldera wall prove submergence, and such is the case in the ring-island of Totoya. The Embayments of Barrier-Reef Islands.—But to return to our coral reefs. If it be true on general principles that the embayments of a dissected central island demonstrate that submergence took place while the encircling barrier reef grew upward, is it also true that the central de Gogo O Gras aos 1 2.00CA wo (ee plani, 143) Fic. 19. BritTISH ADMIRALTY CHART OF TAHAA, Society ISLANDS. The outer- most belt, with curved lines of fine print, is the barrier-reef flat; the lagoon is dotted with soundings in fathoms; a narrow fringing reef follows most of the present shore line; delta plains are blank, between the present shore line and the more sinu- ous original shore line (added in a heavy line) caused by submergence of the maturely dissected volcanic cone. islands within barrier reefs are so generally embayed as thereby to establish, for barrier reefs at least, the truth of the subsidence theory? Yes, abundantly so; and not only are they elaborately embayed, but their embayment has long been represented on charts and stated in descriptions. Ninety years ago the same two missionaries who first sug- gested that coral reefs might be formed on wave-cut platforms, described the island of Tahaa, Fig. 19, in the Society group as distinguished “ by the number, breadth and commodiousness of its harbors, with which the STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 489 whole coast is indented, some running quite into the heart of the country”; thus its outline is made so irregular that the natives compare it to a cuttle-fish, “the projecting headlands and intrusive creeks re- sembling the many tails or tentacule” of that animal. I went around the lagoon of Tahaa in a small motor boat, passing all its spur-end points and entering some of its larger bays, taking time to note the form of the spur-ends where they are cut off in low cliffs, and to sketch the inner border of the bay-head delta plains, in order to reconstruct the intricate salients and embayments that its shores would possess if the spurs had not been a little cut back, and if the deltas had not been built forward. ‘The result is shown by the innermost and strongest black line of Fig. 19—the outermost line is the barrier reef—and it appears to me to be a result of a very striking nature. The small arrows on the spurs represent the dip of lava flows and ash-beds: their radial arrange- ments shows that the island represents a single volcanic cone, elaborately dissected and partly submerged. Evidently enough the bays would be much longer and more branching than now, if the deltas were removed ; and as evidently the spur-ends would not be much longer than now if their original points were restored; but most evident of all, the outline thus reconstructed can be explained in no other way than by the sub- mergence of an elaborately dissected voleano. Fic. 20. SKETCH OF PART OF THN DEEPLY DISSECTED VOLCANIC MASS oF RAIATBA, Socirty ISLANDS. The embayment of the shore line, diminished by deltas, is not clearly shown because of foreshortening. Fig. 5 is a bay in the same island. Let it not be supposed that Tahaa is of exceptional pattern. The neighboring islands of Raiatea, Fig. 20, was instanced by Darwin seventy years ago as possessing “ those deep arms of the sea . . . which penetrate nearly to the heart of some encircled islands.” I gave two days to the leisurely circuit of its lagoon. How wonderfully its original shape is transformed! How deep are the valleys between the sharp-crested 490 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY ridges! How gently the spurs slope down, hardly nipped at their ends, into the enclosed lagoon! ‘Again, the Fiji islands make one of the groups in which Dana found many embayed islands to support Darwin’s theory, yet that group has been said by some observers to occupy an area not of subsidence but of elevation, because elevated reefs occur on some of the islands. Such a statement is geologically altogether inconclusive ; for the absence of elevated reefs on many members of the Fiji group shows that they have not suffered elevation. I saw eighteen of the Fiji islands on my voyage, and sixteen of these had embayed shorelines; the other two showed elevated reefs, as yet little dissected and hence lately elevated. A willing witness to subsidence in Fiji is the little island of Ono, Fig. 21, of mountainous form and irregular outline. A more Fic. 21. BRITISH ADMIRALTY CHART OF THE EMBAYED ISLAND OF ONO IN THE GREAT ASTROLABE REEF, Fisi. The shore line of submergence is added in a heavy line. The larger island of Kandayu, Fig. 23, lies next southwest. striking example is the larger island of Ka-nda-vu, Fig. 22, next south- west of Ono; there the mountains are higher and the embayments are more pronounced; they indicate a recent subsidence of at least 600 or or 800 feet. When this is taken in connection with the elevated reefs of Fiji, some of which have been recently uplifted from 600 to 1,000 feet, a gentle warping of the ocean bottom is indicated; but that is not a surprising matter. The Surprising Case of Ka-nda-vu.—tindeed, the only surprising thing in association with the beautiful island of Ka-nda-vu is, not the embayments of its shoreline, not the strong subsidence to which the embayments testify, but the statement regarding the island made by the chief advocate of the still-stand theory of outgrowing reefs: he wrote, several years after his visit to this island: STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 491 > SS ii = KANDAVU Fic, 22. SKETCHES oF KANDAvU, ONO, AND NGAvu ISLANDS, Fis1, showing ma- turely dissected volcanic masses, with embayed shore lines due to submergence; the bay heads are occupied by deltas; some of the land heads are cliffed more than usual. It was here that, not being able to apply Mr. Darwin’s theory in explana- tion of the phenomena of the Kandavu reefs, I commenced to doubt it altogether. ... The more observations accumulate the more does it seem to me probable that there never was a barrier reef or atoll formed after the manner required by Mr. Darwin’s theory. That is truly astonishing, indeed astounding! On reading it in presence of a detailed map of Ka-nda-vu, Fig. 23, or still better in presence of the island itself, it will be understood more fully than before why the still-stand theory of coral reefs must, in so far as barrier reefs ‘4Sv9q}I0U }xou sary ‘ ‘St ‘ou ‘000'L8 : T Jhoge ‘ajvog ‘aps U10}sSaMq}I0U Oy} UO SururA 10 SNONU}}UOOSIP PUR ‘OPIS PAVAPUM IO. T19}svoey}NOS aq} UO SnNonuI}U0D pue ebigs ea a SOUT] ALOYS OY} SMOT[OJ Joor Suysuyay y “syaewmAuquio ojra0quyie s}t SUIMOYS ‘Ie1y ‘AAVAGNVY JO WIV], NuGGsve, GHD wo WVH) ALIVUINGY HSILiug ‘6G “OT Lan) (pres speak Oot) ssug ozosure N ‘a f STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 493 are concerned, be regarded as a scientific blunder and its publication a bar to progress; for if one island had to be selected from all the islands of the Pacific as decisively favoring Darwin’s theory, that island might well be Ka-nda-vu. Yet hardly less unwarranted than the above quo- tation is the assertion by the same author that the still-stand hypothesis is in harmony with Dana’s views of “the great antiquity. and per- manence of the great ocean basins”; for if there was any one man who believed that the bed of the ocean basins has not always stood still, but has sometimes subsided, that man was Dana. In view of all this, it is inevitable that any hypothesis which postu- lates a fixed relation between the island foundations of coral reefs and the level of the surrounding ocean must be rejected. It may seem over- bold thus on the ground of physiographic evidence summarily to set aside certain hypotheses that have been accepted by able investigators ; and so indeed it would be had those investigators recognized the occur- rence of embayed central islands, and had thereupon said: “Truly these embayments appear at first sight to be drowned valleys, but further study shows them to be of quite different origin, independent of subsi- dence”; but, unfortunately they said nothing of the kind; they took no account of embayments at all. It is therefore well warranted to say, in view of the widespread occurrence of embayed central islands, that the postulate of a fixed relation of island mass to ocean surface is in- admissible. Theories of coral reefs and theories of ocean basins must include the possibility of a mobile ocean floor that carries oceanic islands up or down as it rises or subsides, or of a variable ocean surface that, as it subsides or rises, allows the emergence or submergence of still-stand- ing islands. The Evidence of Elevated Reefs—We have thus far considered chiefly barrier reefs at sea-level. Let us now ask what testimony elevated reefs offer, for elevated reefs were specified on an earlier page as com- petent and communicative witnesses, whose testimony must be heard. But in order to appreciate the value of this testimony, let it be clearly understood that the still-stand theory requires elevated reefs to rest conformably on non-eroded volcanic slopes, because according to this theory, reefs must lie on a slope that has never subsided from a higher stand in which it might have suffered erosion; while the subsidence theory as definitely requires elevated reefs to rest unconformably on a slope that was eroded before it subsided. An elevated reef, standing 20 or 25 feet above sea-level, has long been known to form a plain of variable width on the border of the Hawaiian island of Oahu, especially along its southern and western sides. The conditions of its origin have been much discussed. That it was formed during or after a time of submergence is clearly proved by 494 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY, the following considerations: Oahu consists of the remains of two great voleanoes, an older and more dissected cone forming the smaller, west- ern part of the island, and a younger and less dissected cone forming the the larger eastern part. Some of the valleys in the older western mass, Fic. 24. A LAVA-BED SPUR BETWEEN Two BROAD VALLEYS OF THE WEST COAST oF OAHU, Hawaii. The valley floors are entered by the limestones of the elevated reef which forms the coast plain. Fig. 24, are one or two miles in width at the shoreline, and are enclosed by high, narrow, steep-sided spurs, on the flanks of which gently in- clined lava beds outcrop in great number. The original floor of the valleys is not now visible, because each valley is occupied, in its shore- ward part at least, by the lagoon-limestone plain of the elevated reef: the floor of volcanic rock must be, as well as one can judge by the slope of the valley-side spurs, hundreds of feet below the limestone plain; and this inference is confirmed by the depth of several artesian wells in limestone or non-volcanic beds. Hence the island must have stood hun- dreds of feet higher than now when the valleys were eroded, and must afterwards have subsided hundreds of feet in order to allow the lagoon limestones associated with the elevated reef to be deposited in the valleys. Since then, a moderate elevation with resulting erosion has taken place; and afterwards a still more moderate depression, for on the south side of the island the branching bays of Pearl harbor are nothing more or less than valleys eroded in the elevated reef plain and then drowned. The present sea-level reef of Oahu was formed in association with the depression that formed Pearl harbor. Elevated reefs are found on many islands in the larger archipel- lagoes of the western Pacific. In the Philippines the island of Cebt is 7 STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 495 terraced with reef limestones which rest unconformably on an eroded foundation of older rocks; and in‘such a case, as well as in Hawaii, the foundation mass must formerly have stood at least as high as now in order to suffer erosion; it must then have been submerged to the level of the highest limestone terrace at least; and it must finally have been uplifted to its present altitude. It is of course possible that the terra- cing reefs may have been formed during pauses in a slow emergence fol- lowing a rapid submergence; but it is also possible that they were formed during pauses in a slow submergence followed by a rapid emergence; and it is again possible that some terraces were formed during pauses in submergence, and others during pauses in emergence. Nothing less than close study of the terracing structures will suffice to determine which of these possibilities corresponds to the actual occur- rences of past time; but while we are waiting for such study, it is fair to quote this case as demanding submergence as a factor in the forma- tion of the reefs in question, and as thereby warranting the postulate of submergence in other cases. Many other examples of unconformable elevated reefs might be cited: they all testify as unequivocally to the sub- mergence of the eroded reef foundation before the reefs were formed or while they were forming, as to the emergence of the compound mass after the reefs were formed. Which Theory is Best ?—In view of the various sea-level and elevated reefs in situations so significant as those now mentoned, can any one who carefully deduces the consequences of the three hypotheses thus far pre- sented, hesitate for a moment in making his choice among them? In the ease of sea-level barrier reefs, where are the confluent deltas, projecting outside of a non-embayed initial shoreline, as demanded by the hypoth- esis of outgrowing sea-level reefs on still-standing islands? Where are the cliffs around a non-embayed shoreline, as demanded by the theory of veneering reefs on wave-cut platforms? And where are not the re- entrant embayments, with small deltas at their heads, as demanded by the hypothesis of upgrowing barrier reefs on subsiding foundations! In the case of elevated reefs, where are the unworn volcanic slopes beneath the steeply inclined talus of coral waste, as required by the theory of outgrowing reefs; or the truncated platforms beneath a coral growth of small thickness, as required by the theory of veneering reefs? And where are not the unconformable contacts of reef limestones upon an eroded foundation slope, as required by the subsidence theory! The Origin of Atolls—The confirmation provided for Darwin’s theory by Dana’s principle of shoreline development is as admirable and abundant for sea-level barrier reefs as is that provided by the uncon- formable contact of reef-mass and foundation for elevated reefs: but let it be explicitly noted that neither of these confirmations applies directly to sea-level atolls. Those inscrutable islands stand alone in the sea, 496 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY without witnesses to reveal their origin. They have been described as monuments over drowned volcanoes; they are monuments truly enough, and it has lately been shown that the Bermuda reefs have a volcanic mass beneath them; but no direct proof has been found that any sea- level atoll in the Pacific is built upon a volcanic foundation, much less that the foundation has subsided. The deep boring on the atoll of Funafuti in the Ellice group has led different students to different con- clusions, though it seems to me that the evidence for subsidence is strong: unhappily the boring reached no voleanic rock. Nevertheless, it is probable that the atolls of the Pacific have subsiding voleanic founda- tions for the following reasons. Atolls sometimes occur in association with barrier reefs, as in the Fiji, New Hebrides and Society groups; and in such cases the subsidence of the volcanic islands proved for the barrier reefs may be very reasonably extended to the neighboring atolls. Sea-level atolls are in all cases exactly like barrier reefs, but for the absence of a central island; the process which has produced a barrier reef on a sub- siding voleano must, if continued, change it into an atoll; and it would truly be singular if this process, so far advanced in some barrier reefs that their central islands occupy a very small fraction of their lagoon, 7, Fig. 25. CROSS SECTION OF THE ELEVATED ATOLL OF MARE, LoyALtTy ISLANDS, showing the small knob of volcanic rock that rises in its lagoon plain to a less height than its reef rim. had never continued a little farther; Maré, Fig. 25, the southeastern- most of the Loyalty islands, is a recently uplifted atoll, about twenty miles in diameter, and over 200 feet above sea-level; it has a low knob of eroded volcanic rock near the center of the limestone plain that rep- resents the former lagoon, but the summit of the knob is lower than the reef-rim that encloses the plain, and hence the volcanic summit was below sea-level before uplift occurred. No uplifted atolls have been found to possess the particular structures characteristic of atoll for- mation by other processes than upgrowth during subsidence. On the other hand, the extensive oceanic subsidence demanded by the occurr- ence of atoll groups has been objected to as inconsistent with what is known of the origin of ocean basins; but so little is known of their origin that this objection has little force; the theory of ocean basins must accommodate itself to the subsidence that is demonstrated for: barrier reefs and made highly probable for atolls. Atolls Formed by Up- and Out-growth.—Let us now turn aside from the theory of subsidence and consider briefly another theory for the formation of atolls, proposed by the oceanographer who advocated the STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 497 still-stand theory of barrier reefs. Let VVV, Fig. 26, be a submarine mountain, presumably a volcano, the summit of which lies below the limiting depth of 20 or 25 fathoms, at which reef-building corals can grow. The frail calcareous shells of innumerable small pelagic animals, floating in the shallower waters, fall to the ocean bottom when the animals die, like “an organic rain”; and, in so far as they fall on the mountain, they aid the organisms living there to build it up, QQ; and thus eventually a submarine bank is formed near enough to the surface "7 GPE N = ree Soe ree EIS y CPT it 5: fee 3 Bree yates TN L73 vip, \ Wy Fic. 26. Cross SECTION TO ILLUSTRATH THH THEORY OF UP- AND OUT-GROWING RHFS: a submarine volcanic summit V, is built up with pelagic deposits, Q, and crowned with a reef, N, which has been enlarged by out-growth, R. for corals, NN, to be established upon it. Then the corals grow outward on their own talus and form an enlarged atoll reef, RR, while the older part of the reef is dissolved out to form the lagoon. Such is the hy- pothesis for the production of atolls by up- and out-growth without subsidence. It is easily conceivable, but no one has yet shown that it represents any actual occurrence. Soundings have truly enough dis- covered organic deposits on submarine summits, but it does not seem probable that the fine calcareous deposits of the “organic rain” could remain on a summit when it reached depths less than 40 or 30 fathoms; the heavy waves of the ocean would sweep the deposits off into deeper water, and upbuilding would have to be continued by heavier forms of local growth. But it is not known that submarine summits stand still and suffer a capping of organic deposits to grow upwards nearly to the sea surface. So far as islands which rise above sea-level are concerned, their heads are as uneasy as if they wore a crown; emerged summits repeatedly suffer uplift or depression as well as still- stand pauses: it is therefore probable that submarine summits are simi- larly uplifted or depressed, for uplift and depression of super- or sub- marine volcanic masses do not result from changes within the masses themselves, but from movements in the suboceanic earth crust on which they stand. If the submarine summits are depressed, they could hardly be at the same time built up to the surface by the slow process of “organic rain”; if elevated, it is certainly singular that they all stop rising in the regions of true atolls before they emerge. Hence this theory is encompassed with improbabilities. VOL. 11.—d4. 498 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY Furthermore, no elevated atoll has been described as showing the structures demanded by this theory; hence the theory stands merely as a possibility without direct support. But an island in the Solomon group has been figured as possessing a volcanic core, V, Fig. 27, partly Fic. 27. REPRODUCTION OF A CROSS SECTION OF ONE OF THE SOLOMON ISLANDS, much exaggerated vertically. covered by pelagic deposits, LZ, other than coral, and these in turn are surrounded by an uplifted coral-reef terrace, RR, not so high as the pelagic deposits: and this composite structure has been taken as con- firming the up- and out-growth hypothesis just stated. The confirma- tion is not convincing for several reasons. First, the volcanic summit, V, has a greater altitude than the pelagic deposits, Z, and this would seem to show that the summit had been built up above sea-level before the “organic rain” fell on its flanks. Second, the pelagic deposits, L, have a greater altitude than the coral reef, R, and this shows that uplift of the cloaked voleano preceded as well as followed reef formation. Third, the threefold structure is vertically exaggerated in Fig. 27; it might be better represented by VLR, Fig. 28. Fourth, the contacts of the pelagic deposits with the volcanic cone, and of the reef limestones Fic. 28. THE SAME, REDRAWN WITH LESS VERTICAL EXAGGHRATION, Showing on the left a volcanic slope, V, conformably overlaid with pelagic deposits, L, and these conformably built upon by a reef, R; the threefold mass having been twice elevated. On the right, the three structures, U, J, S, are drawn with unconformable contacts, indicating two depressions and two uplifts. with the pelagic deposits remain undescribed: perhaps, instead of rep- resenting an unbroken succession of submarine deposits, they may be separated by surfaces of erosion, and thus represent discontinuous de- posits, as UJ; that is, the voleano may have stood above sea-level and suffered erosion for a time, before rapid subsidence drowned it for the receipt of the uncomformable pelagic cover; uplift and erosion of the composite mass may then have taken place before renewed subsidence permitted the formation of the reef; not till then may have come the present uplift of the threefold mass. Changes of this kind may seem cumbrous. If so, let me commend the attentive study of the following example from the new Hebrides. Uplifted Reefs in the New Hebrides——On the northwest side of the STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 499 island of Efate in the New Hebrides a series of well-bedded, nearly horizontal tuffs, VN, Fig. 29, described as containing Globigerina and other pelagic foraminifera, is deeply eroded in valley-side slopes of over 800 feet, which descend to the drowned-valley embayment of Havannah harbor; and the slopes are terraced by a number of elevated fringing reefs, TTT, which contain abundant and well-preserved fossil corals, and which lie unconformably on the eroded slope of the tuff beds. If —— — — AY — — ‘7? =. e —= lll i SS alll Wii ith Se ee Fig. 29. Cross SEcTION TO ILLUSTRATH THE UNCONFORMABLE CONTACT OF THE ELEVATED FRINGING REEFS OF EFATH, in the New Hebrides group, on an eroded mass of horizontal marine strata, NN; the nature of the contact of the marine strata on their volcanic foundation, WW, is not known. this is interpreted in accordance with well-established geological prin- ciples, we must conclude that the island stood several hundred feet lower than now when the foraminiferal tuffs were deposited: that it was then raised higher than now for the erosion of the drowned valley of Havannah harbor; that it then subsided low enough for corals to form fringing reefs up to the very top of the eroded slope; and that it was finally raised at least to its present altitude, leaving the valley bottom drowned. Whether the fringing-reef terraces were formed during the last uplift or during the preceding subsidence is not easy to determine ; their formation during uplift has been announced by a young Australian observer, but he did not recognize that the truncation of the tuffs de- manded previous elevation, erosion and depression. In company with Mr. E. C. Andrews of Sydney, New South Wales, I reviewed the section with the earlier observer’s report in hand; and the formation of the reefs during intermittent subsidence followed by rapid uplift, rather than during intermittent uplift preceded by rapid subsidence, seemed an explanation well worth considering. Whether the tuffs of Efate lie on an eroded or a non-eroded volcanic foundation, WW, I can not say; but in Viti Levu, the largest island of the Fiji group, similar marine tuffs seemed to lie, at the only point of near-contact that I reached, uncon- formably on an eroded volcanic slope; if the same relation occurred on Efate, a strong submergence must have taken place after the initial voleano was built up and eroded, and before the tuffs were laid down on its eroded flanks. The absence of details of this kind from the 500 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY description of the island in the Solomon group (Fig. 27) makes it for the present an incompetent witness. The upshot of all this is, that the up- and out-growth hypothesis, which explains atolls as the crowns of pelagic deposits built up on submarine foundations, is as yet without support by well-observed facts; and hence that Darwin’s theory of sub- sidence provides a simpler and better supported explanation of atolls than any theory yet invented. Objections to the Theory of Subsidence-—Are we then to under- stand that no objections can be raised against the theory of subsidence? Hardly that, for many objections deserving consideration have been urged. First is the objection that an extravagantly large volume of limestone is needed to build atolls on the subsidence plan. This is per- fectly true, but it is also true that the outgrowth plan is hardly less extravagant. Extravagance seems sometimes to be the order of nature, as in building up voluminous volcanic cones by eruption through the earth’s crust beneath the ocean; some of the cones, if measured from the ocean bottom, are of staggeringly large dimensions. But the best answer to this objection is found in two of the Loyalty islands, next northeast of New Caledonia; they are uplifted atolls 20 or 30 miles in diameter and now standing 200 or 300 feet above sea-level, without a sign of any rock but limestone around their rim, though one of them (Maré) has, as above mentioned, a small knob of volcanic rock in the center of its uplifted lagoon-plain; if the volcanic mass of which the knob is the summit be given a slope such as is commonly observed in volcanic islands of the Fiji group, the thickness of the lmestones at the margin of the island must be at least 5,000 or 6,000 feet. As far as this goes, it indicates that heavy limestone masses really do occur beneath the crown of an atoll reef. A second objection to the theory of subsidence is based on the ab- sence of heavy coral-reef limestones from ancient geological formations. To this it may be answered that, while parts of continents have in the past presumably been transformed by depression into deep ocean floors, deep ocean floors do not seem to have been transformed by elevation into con- tinents; or if they have been, the lofty overtopping atolls then uplifted must, as a rule, have been worn away, just as all lofty mountains and volcanoes of Paleozoic and Mesozoic times have been worn away. The roots of ancient mountains and volcanoes are found beneath less ancient geological formations, but not the summits. Similarly, it is only the base of ancient atolls that would commonly be preserved under less ancient geological formations, and not the tops. Another answer to this objection is that the heavy dolomites of the Tyrol do, by way of exception, represent ancient coral reefs, and thus show that ancient reefs are occasionally preserved. STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 501 A third objection to the theory of subsidence is, as above noted, the necessity of a great depression of the Pacific ocean floor in recent geolog- ical time over the immense area occupied by groups of barrier reefs and atolls. So great a depression is held by some to stand in contradiction to what is known of the dynamics of ocean basins; but in answer it may be urged that the evidence of strong ocean-bottom subsidence over large areas, as given by atolls, must be added to the little else that is known about the ocean floors before safe inferences can be drawn as to the amount of deformation which their basins have suffered. It may be briefly noted that the inferred contemporaneous lowering of ocean water and the consequent laying bare of all continental coasts, as a result of a great deepening of the Pacific atoll areas, is not necessary; for it may be assumed with much probability that adjacent parts of the Pacific ‘floor suffered a roughly compensating elevation, as Darwin suggested, when the atoll areas subsided, and hence that contemporaneous changes of ocean level were relatively small. A fourth objection to the theory of subsidence, urged by an eminent geologist, must be regarded as the most singular of all objections. It is as follows: “ Upheaval has taken place in areas where barrier reefs and atolls are in vigourous growth. Such an association of upheaval with an assumed general subsidence requires, on the subsidence theory, a cum- brous and entirely hypothetical series of upward and downward move- ments,” and hence is improbable and unacceptable. This pronounce- ment is, in view of its source, one of the most extraordinary that I have encountered in coral-reef literature. It tempts me to follow for geol- ogists the example of the late William James, who divided philosophers into two categories, the tender-minded and the tough-minded. Let us divide geologists into the same two classes, and among the tender- minded place those who hesitate to accept a theory of coral reefs that involves repeated uplifts and depressions of the earth’s crust because such terrestrial uneasiness is mentally distressing ; and among the tough- minded, those who are perfectly ready to follow good evidence wherever it leads, even to the cumbrous series of upward and downward move- ments shown by elevated reefs in Fiji and by Efate in the New Hebrides. It is consoling to remember that James avowed himself to be one of the tough-minded pragmatical lot. (To be continued) 502 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY ANNEXATION AND CONQUEST By CHANCELLOR DAVID STARR JORDAN STANFORD UNIVERSITY i fe the minimum program of the Central Organization for the Study of a Durable Peace, the first article reads as follows: No annexation or transfer of territory shall be made contrary to the inter- ests and wishes of the population concerned. When possible, their consent shall be obtained by plébiscite or otherwise. On this article I am asked by the executive committee of the Central Organization to present my comments. Its essential features may be summed up in these words: “ No right of conquest; no annexation by force.” Its thesis is vigorously urged by Immanuel! Kant in the second paragraph of the first section of “ Per- petual Peace.” Says Kant: A state is not a possession or a patrimony like the soil on which it has its seat. It is a human society subject to the authority and disposition of none but itself. Since, like a stem, it has its own roots, to incorporate it as a graft into another state is to take away its existence as a moral purpose and to make of it a thing. This contradicts the idea of the original compact, without which no authority over a people can be conceived. Everybody knows into what danger, even in the most recent times, the supposed right of thus acquiring states has brought Europe. ... This has been looked upon in part as a new kind of industry, a way of making oneself powerful through family connections without putting forth personal effort, in part also as a way of extending one’s landed possessions, . . . Thus the subjects of the state are used and abused to be handled at will. It can not be denied that the views above quoted conflict seriously with tradition, theory and practise in past European history. The curse of modern Europe is its burden of history. Every generation is filled with remembrance of the futile glory of past wars, with futile hatreds of the people against whom the wars were fought. The teach- ings of the schools furnish many of the standing incentives to war. Through these agencies the war-system has perverted and poisoned all lessons in history, in patriotism and even in religion. The way out is to start afresh. That this may be possible is one of the cheering lessons to be drawn from European history. For example, my friend and teacher, Andrew Dickson White,’ reminds me that “the religious wars which had been going on for well over a thousand years were forever ended by the Treaty of Miinster in a universal feeling of shame and dis- 1In a letter dated Cornell University, January 27, 1916. ANNEXATION AND CONQUEST 503 gust.” So we may hope that the present inexpressibly tragic confusion may end in the stable development and rational development of inter- national law. The article under discussion represents in spirit a great advance in international law. It stands for the right of small civilized nations to autonomy and integrity. It opposes the dismemberment of any nation, large or small. It removes certain standing incentives to war by elimi- nating supposed advantages of victory. To put this rule into operation at the end of the present war would add enormously to the stability of civilization. In the following pages I shall briefly treat various details under five heads: (1) The Assumed Right of Conquest, (2) the Use of the Plébis- cite, (3) Secession and Nationality, (4) Colonial Adjustments and finally (5) Conclusion. I. THE AssuMED RIGHT OF CONQUEST The great argument against the right of conquest lies in its funda- mental injustice. It furthermore interferes with the stability of so- ciety. The conquest of the whole or part of one civilized state by another involves an assault on the well-being of all. The conquered state at once encounters serious interference with its own manners and customs. It naturally tends to resent this interference, and soon its resentment becomes an intrusion into the established discipline of the victor. Both these conditions followed the annexation of Alsace-Lor- raine, making this region, on the one hand, “ the nightmare of Europe” (le cauchemar de ’ Europe), and, on the other, the “ wound in the side” (la plate dans les flancs) of the great empire to which it was forcibly united. Whatever the motive of such annexation, it necessarily leads to dissatisfaction in the smaller group and disunion in the larger. More- over, the precept that “ Might makes Right” or its sophistical equiv- alents that “ Might creates Need” and “ Need creates Right,” whether applied to men or to nations, is offensive to the moral sense of civilized humanity. For example, the nationality of Belgium must be absolutely maintained. Anything less than this would leave Europe wholly un- stable. Serbia and Montenegro should also be restored. An argument for annexation by force frequently advanced is this; that to guarantee future peace and prevent attack from outside a fringe of alien territory must also be secured. Dr. John Mez writes: The creation of so-called buffer states may indeed from a military and strategic viewpoint serve those ends of securing the national boundary, but the experiment of securing peace by such conquest has been tried several times in history and proved a failure every time. Bismarck had intended merely to seize Alsace and the German-speaking parts of Lorraine, but military experts in- sisted that a portion of the French-speaking district should equally be taken for 504 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY strategic reasons and ‘‘in order to secure the peace.’”? It was said: ‘‘The fortress of Metz is worth 100,000 soldiers in case of another war.’’ Thus Bis- marck was induced, almost against his will, to consent to the annexation of Metz and the region about it. Peace insurance by conquest is one of the greatest fallacies of history. It is distinctly and naturally disadvantageous to both victor and vanquished, and, instead of preserving the peace, it necessarily defeats that end, since out of it grows the inevitable desire for ‘‘wars of revenge’’ in the nations despoiled. Apart from this it is a gross injustice to the inhabi- tants of the conquered province itself. It is also immoral, creates a dangerous precedent which in some future day may be equally applied by other parties. Here is the main reason for protesting against the idea of conquest of territory, even if alleged to be made not for gain, but to make a country secure from attack or to ensure peace—a shallow phrase—used over and over again as an excuse for the crime of a large-scale robbery. The system of “scientific frontiers” leaves a boundary marked by dissatisfaction and surrounded by suspicion and hate. A wise Alsatian once said to me: “The best boundary fortress is a contented people.” (“Dte beste Grenzefestung ist ein zufriedenes Grenzevolk.”’) II. THe USE OF THE PLEBISCITE Rejecting then the principle of the use of force as a means of ex- tending jurisdiction, we may consider some of the details involved. First, as to the “interests and wishes” of the population concerned. These may not altogether coincide if by interest one means financial advantage. In general, the more cultured a body of people, the more will interest and wishes approach agreement. For with advanced people wishes rise to have an intellectual value and interests a moral value unknown to barbarous races. With barbarous races, the desire to be let alone outweighs most forms of economic interest, as these necessarily involve a degree of personal restraint or collective discipline. How then shall we ascertain “ interests and wishes” in a given case? Manifestly we cannot trust a victorious nation. Two methods remain, the one an international tribunal, the other a vote of the people them- selves in the conquered district. As to the first, the results of inter- national commissions or “concert of powers” have not been thus far encouraging, but the sources of failure lay in their partisan composition. In the Balkan crisis, most members of the concert, conventional diplo- mats, represented interests which hoped to gain by confusion, and the present war has its excuse if not its cause in the disorder resultant from the incongruous adjustments of Balkan affairs in the Treaties of Lon- don and of Bucharest. On the other hand, a wise, impartial and non-partisan commission is possible if the several states will together set up a righteous standard. In a well-ordered continent just action may be expected from nations as well as from individuals or corporations. “ Peace is the duration of law,” that is, of justice. ANNEXATION AND CONQUEST 505 The plébiscite or ballot is a device for ascertaining the will of the people. It is not clear that this can ever be safe and effective in de- termining the fate of any disputed district of Europe. The process can have no value unless voting rests on intelligence and the ballot is fully guarded, with a secret vote and the absence of all duress, intimida- tion or bribery. And as some form of duress is a regular accompani- ment of the suffrage in many parts of Europe, we can hardly expect the stream to rise above its source. Even in the best-ordered districts a plébiscite as to national allegiance would be fraught with embarrass- ments. In case of any change in this regard public feeling would run high in both the states concerned, as well as in the strip of territory to which the plébiscite is applied. This condition would encourage in- trigue, with manipulation of public opinion. The struggle for ascend- ancy would interest the rest of the world, and sympathies racial, polit- ical religious, would form a disturbing element far beyond the limits of the regions concerned. “IJ can imagine,” says Professor Walter Rauschenbusch,’ “a plébiscite turning into an active volcano. .. . This provision would operate as an almost insuperable check against any change. It would give the population no initiative, only a veto.” At once, in any plan for plébiscite, three problems arise: (1) How large shall be the voting units? (2) What rights shall the people have within the nation to which they may assume allegiance? (3) To what extent are the principles of toleration set forth in Article 2, democratic equality before the law, religious liberty and tolerance of language, to be guaranteed in the chosen relations? Allow me to discuss these prob- lems at some length and by venturing on certain illustrations. Before the war between Prussia and Denmark, Schleswig as a whole, being very largely occupied by German people, had the choice been offered, would doubtless have voted for transfer to Germany. But had smaller voting units been adopted, northern Schleswig or its city of Flensburg would certainly have elected to remain in Denmark, while the body of the province would have attached itself to Germany. Such a decision would not have necessarily been because northern Schleswig is Danish, a fact in itself of secondary importance. The determining factor might have been that, speaking Danish rather than German, the people were subject to minor persecutions on that account. Being assured of such tolerance as our Article 2 contemplates, they might have elected to remain in Germany, for presumably their financial interests would be better served within the German Zollverein. With fair play, old hatreds soon die out. It is not necessarily language or race which determines choice of allegiance. Partly it may be tradition, partly the feeling of equality before the law, and for the rest, mainly continuity of manners and customs. 2In a letter dated Rochester, February 9, 1916. 506 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY In Alsace-Lorraine, however, for example, the results of a plébiscite, if conducted before the present war, would have been determined by other questions than that of simple preference for France or Germany. The region inhabited by people of French blood would assuredly not have wished to detach itself from that where German blood predominates and where a German dialect is spoken by the peasant classes. A com- mon experience had inspired in “ Alsace-Lorrainers” a feeling of like nationality. Their first allegiance was to Alsace-Lorraine. Undoubt- edly Alsace and Lorraine, of differing speech and origin, had been welded into one common experience. This fact is expressed in the doggerel verse, Francais ne peux, Prussien ne veux, Alsacien suis. So the first choice of these people would have been to stand together, their next, local home rule in details of custom and language. This they had had under France, but not under Germany. Politically, the first preference of most would no doubt have been independence, an unfortified neutrality alongside of Switzerland, Luxembourg and Bel- gium. They would thus have formed a republic of free men, a bridge connecting the culture of France with that of Germany. As their busi- ness interests allied them to the rest of the Rhine valley, they might have been glad to remain in the German Zollverein if freed from lin- guistic and other restrictions. Failing in this, they might have chosen to be incorporated into the republic of Switzerland of which Miilhausen once formed an integral canton. ; The former bond of Alsace-Lorraine to Germany rested on business relations and on the large influx of German manufacturing interests in Strassburg and Metz. Its persistent opposition was due largely to Germany’s failure to grant full citizenship, leaving the people as “ Deutsche zweiter Classe” inhabiting “ Reichsland” or Territory of the Empire. Resentment against this condition was stronger in Ger- man Alsace than in French Lorraine, partly, no doubt, because more French than Germans had emigrated from the land to escape Panger- manist influences. Matters of language became really important only through attempts to suppress the use of French. It is not important to the unity of a great nation that all its people should speak the same language. Stability is assured by equality before the law and the recognition by all that under a common government their individual personal rights are assured. In the words of Albert Oeri of Basle, A compatriot who thinks our thoughts is nearer to us than one who merely speaks our tongue.’ 3‘ Pour un Suisse un compatriote de langue diffirente est plus cher qu’un étranger de la méme langue.” ANNEXATION AND CONQUEST 507 Most attempts to define nationalities by race lines are bound to fail. Language and race cross every border, sometimes producing inextri- cable mixtures of blood and tongues. Kinship in spirit is more vitally essential. The ideal of a unified nation with one race, one speech and one religion is a reactionary one regarded as necessary to an oriental despotism, but out of place in modern international Europe. To illus- trate further, the complexities of the political problems sure to arise at the conclusion of the present war, I again make use of Alsace-Lorraine in illustration. If at the end of the war a plébiscite were to be offered to this district, the problem would be by no means simple. Several possible alternatives would present themselves, each having formerly had its special advocates. The provinces could (1) remain as at present, the people being still “ Deutsche zweiter Klasse,” living on “ Reichsland,” or territory of the empire; or (2) become part of the Grand Duchy of Baden; or (3) remain in Germany, but as one of the autonomous or self-governing states of the empire; or (4) become a free state or republic within the empire, comparable to the free cities of Hamburg, Bremen and Liibeck; or (5) become an independent nation like Switzerland, thus forming one of a series of buffer states between France and Germany, either (a) unfortified like Luxembourg, perhaps retaining the commercial advantages of the Imperial Zollverein, or (0) armed like Belgium and Switzerland, or (6) return to France in spite of the fact that in the centralized republic the district would as before be reduced to three departments or local jurisdictions (Haut-Rhin, Bas-Rhin, Moselle) instead of forming one united province of “ Elsass- Lothringen,” as at present. Or, as further alternatives, neither of them I believe acceptable to the inhabitants, the area might (7) be divided crosswise, separating Lorraine which is largely French, from Alsace, where the original stock was Germanic, or (8) divided lengthwise, returning the French-speaking communes on the Moselle or along the summits and west flank of the Vosges to France, retaining and leaving the rest of Alsace and of Lorraine in Germany. Either of these propo- sitions would be regarded as mutilation for reasons I try later to make clear. Finally in any discussion of this particular problem must be weighed the claim of France that a plébiscite at the present epoch would be unwise and unfair, as the will of the provinces for all time was indicated in the protest of the retiring Alsatian members of the French National Assembly in Bordeaux in 1871. The partial colonization of Strass- burg and Metz with Germans should not affect, it is claimed, the status of the districts which, as aliens, they have entered. I have chosen Alsace-Lorraine as an example of the difficulties of a plébiscite even in a highly civilized region. Before one could be under- 508 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY taken, the different alternatives should be clearly announced, as also the proper provision for the safeguarding of the rights of minorities. Re- spect for minority rights is one of the best tests of the enlightenment of a nation. While in political questions majorities rule within ac- cepted or constitutional limits, the personal or social rights of the minority should not be abridged or taken away. ‘The size of the voting unit hinges in some degree on this question. It must rest on wise political judgment. It would be possible to divide Schleswig satis- factorily, as the Danish or discontented portion is geographically a part of Jutland in Denmark. It would be unsatisfactory to dismember Alsace-Lorraine, Finland or Bohemia. A similar question has been bitterly argued in Ireland, first as to the autonomy of Ireland as a whole, and second, in case of division, as to the integrity of northern Treland, the ancient Province of Ulster. But the exclusion of Ulster from Irish Home Rule would leave the same question of the rights of minorities. For of the nine counties of Ulster all but three, Down (Belfast), Antrim and perhaps Derry (Londonderry), would choose to be linked with the rest of Ireland. Throughout the island there are “Unionists” and “ Nationalists,” just as in Alsace-Lorraine there are “ French-minded” and “German-minded ” people (“franzdsisch-ge- sinnt” und “ deutsch-gesinnt”) in every commune. Any decision of the majority should leave the rights of the minority intact. III. SEcEssIon AND NATIONALISM It is clear that no denial of the right of conquest could be made retroactive. To attempt this would throw Europe into confusion. With time, vested rights become entangled with vested wrongs, and any effort to correct the latter, suddenly and as a whole, would involve a general overturn of government. For this reason, the “right of secession” of any province or group of people can not be unconditionally admitted. It exists only in connection with the larger right of tolerance of race, religion and language. The world is concerned in all these problems, as an imperfect solution endangers the world’s right to peace. But they can not be settled by a reversal through secession or a conquest of revanche. 'They can be finally adjusted only by a generous tolerance with the recognition of the rights of minorities on the part of the gen- eral government. Without such tolerance any conquered province “ will remain a wound in the side” of a great nation, finally impairing its integrity. To concede the right of secession by plébiscite would involve con- sideration of the variant claims of a dozen districts more or less dis- contented with their present lot. It will therefore be necessary to pro- ceed “on the pragmatic principle of letting sleeping dogs lie,” not raising more complications than are strictly necessary. Recent attempts to ANNEXATION AND CONQUEST 5°09 reconstruct the map of Europe on the basis of nationalism have shown their own futility. Race and language, as I have already remarked, interlock in every quarter. In the Balkans, for example, every race has overflowed into all its neighbors, its migrated members having mean- while acquired new languages and new customs. In general, the grant of autonomy with home rule in intimate mat- ters is a far more practicable solution than independence. But inde- pendence once secured is preferable to unwilling or undesired autonomy within a larger nation. In all these great affairs the burden of proof should lie against change in actual status unless conditions have become wholly intolerable. A compromise empire or coalition such as Austria-_ Hungary, for example, is preferable as an agent in civilization to the frank discord which would follow dismemberment. The disorder now existing among the independent states of the Balkans well illustrates this. Whether autonomy be a solution in any particular case or not must depend on the actual conditions. To grant independence to all more or less suppressed races, would involve Europe in the anarchy of the Middle Ages. Nationality for example, has been more or less insistently demanded, by Ireland, Finland, Poland, Bohemia, Alsace-Lorraine, Ukraine, Slavonia, Bosnia, Macedonia, Armenia, Albania, Korea, India and the Philippines. The claims of these districts are of varying plausibility, and in some cases autonomy in a degree has been already granted. Others are in a more or less anarchistic state in anticipation of home tule. To grant autonomy with equality before the law, and especially equality of language, would solve many of these difficulties. And not many of the others could be adjusted by shifting the boundaries in the interest of nationality. The districts severed from Bulgaria, or at least refused to her at the treaty of Bucharest, should have their relations reconsidered by some competent tribunal, any form of plébiscite being, in this connection, impossible. The wholesale suppression or ejection of a large percentage of the inhabitants of Macedonia, Thrace, Dobruja and Novibazar, has made final justice an impossibility. Upwards of a million peasants in the various Balkan countries were homeless refugees in the early part of 1914. The number of these has since been reduced, but only by death. For this region there is no way out, except through tolerance of lan- guage, race and religion, all this being comprehended in the phrase, “Equality before the Law.” Beyond this their economic needs demand a common customs-union which shall abate the heavy tariff burdens laid on each other and on themselves. Even within the boundaries of would-be nationalities there may exist great injustice. In Galicia the Poles, annexed against their will but still as landlords retaining a considerable degree of freedom, treat 510 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY with great harshness the agricultural population largely composed of Ruthenians or Little Russians. In Russia both Poles and Ruthenians (Ukrainians) find themselves more or less oppressed, while all parties join in the persecution of the Jews, and the Jews in turn find means for a certain degree of revenge. In certain recognized states, for example the Ottoman Empire, which is merely an army of occupation holding a population of five times its own number, any considerable degree of self government or even ordi- nary tolerance would mean dissolution.* If the Turks did not rule, the people would and they would insist on the “ bearable life” not attained by any race under Turkish rule. It is claimed on good authority that recurrent massacres were absolutely necessary if Ottoman rule were to be maintained. Except through extremes of violence® the “ grim, raw races” of the Near East could not be held in check. A sovereignty maintained by such means is not a nation in any proper sense, and has no claim to recognition in a sisterhood of states. IV. CoLoNIAL ADJUSTMENTS Thus far in this discussion, I have considered only the problems of annexation in Europe. These concern relatively homogeneous popula- tions, accustomed to a degree of self-government and to some process of voting. The colonial systems of the various nations offer an entirely different set of problems. In dealing with people wholly barbarous, there may at times arise a necessity requiring domination or even con- quest on the part of a civilized state. President William Howard Taft has suggested that “ while the rule of Article I. might be generally true, there might be exceptions in which the progress of the world would require a departure from the principle where the people are ignorant or depraved, or where they otherwise show their unfitness for self govern- ment by continued anarchy.”® That such exceptions may occur we must admit, although the “ right of conquest” as applied to them is fraught with serious dangers. Such as may be allowed should be not a “right” but a “duty.” The greed of exploitation is often a ruling motive in bringing law and order to feeble and discordant peoples. Decisions on questions of this sort ought ultimately to be more or less international. The purpose of occupation should be the general welfare, not merely the protection of exploiting interests. 4‘“To concede absolute equality would be to commit suicide.’’ 5‘“Tn our reconstitution of the Ottoman empire administrative conformity must be absolute. Autonomy is treason. It means separation. Our Christian compatriots shall be Ottomanized citizens. We shall no longer be conquerors and slaves but a new nation of freemen.’’ (Riza Bey, quoted by John Mac- donald, ‘‘ Turkey and the Eastern Question,’’ 1913.) 6 In a letter dated New Haven, January, 1916. ANNEXATION AND CONQUEST 511 The relations of the United States to the conditions in Mexico may be considered in this connection. They afford an illustration of the difficulties which beset a nation which is desirous of seeing order main- tained in a disorderly neighbor, but wishes at the same time to avoid armed intervention, costly and dangerous, as likely to entail occupation and ultimately a most undesired annexation. Mexico was for three years in the hands of rival groups of bandits, with no certain prospect of any orderly adjustment of its affairs. The United States has thus far (February, 1916) refrained from intervention in the face of vari- ous provocations, such restraint seeming to be, in the opinion of most, the lesser of the two evils. Should military occupation ever be found necessary, it is understood that it should be undertaken only with the cooperative sanction of the leading states of South America, and with no intention of annexation of any part of the territory occupied. An over-seas district controlled or affiliated for any purpose by a civilized nation has received the general name of “colony.” In this sense a colony may range from a coaling-station to a continental do- minion or commonwealth. The civilized colonies which have risen to be independent nations, affiliated with but not controlled by the mother country, are all in the temperate zones, and nearly all are outgrowths from Great Britain. These are Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa, and no present question of annexation or conquest concerns any of them. The holdings which are chiefly serviceable as coaling-stations or as fortresses guarding channels of trade are also mainly British, and ap- parently none of them is directly concerned in the outcome of the pres- ent war, unless indeed, civilized nations should come to the agreement that all lanes of traffic be left unfortified. Such an arrangement is much to be desired in due time. It would involve dismantling the fortresses which now guard the Dardanelles, the Bosporus, the straits of Gibraltar, Aden and Dover, as well as the defenses of the Suez, Panama and Kiel Canals. The more completely force can be separated from commerce, the better for civilization. In general, most colonial dependencies are held as speculative prop- erties, prospective sources of revenue, or else for the purpose of imperial glorification, which Norman Angell calls “The Mirage of the Map.” Most of the great holdings in Asia and Africa come under this last head, yielding no national revenue comparable to the expense of maintenance, and serving to enrich individual traders or exploiters while the burden of empire is borne by the people at home. In the British Empire the name of “ Crown Colonies” is given to those districts administered directly in thename of theking. Colonies of this type exhibit great differences among themselves, but they agree, however, in certain details. Each consists primarily of a great body of native 512 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY people, to which sometimes is added a staff of working peons from some other region—in plain language, imported serfs or slaves. The upper stratum consists of a relatively small group of traders, exploiters, miners, missionaries and officials, civil and military, engaged, for well or ill, in developing the resources of the country. Such colonies have been obtained in all sorts of ways, by purchase, by friendly negotiation, by reprisal, by wanton invasion and incidental conquest. An invasion of any kind produces disorder, disorder demands the presence of troops, occupation must be permanent to keep order, and the final result in annexation under the general plea of “ manifest destiny,” or the needs of empire.’ At present, the last frontier is reached and every part of the world is under the actual or nominal supervision of some one of the great nations or world-powers. It is evident that no further changes can be made except by force of arms, by friendly negotiations or by efforts for freedom, peaceful or otherwise, from within. It is also evident that most of these colonies contribute to the expense as well as to the glory of the nation in occupation. They may be sources of revenue to indi- viduals, but very rarely to the state. And the actual welfare of these regions is dependent on the acceptance of Article 3, which provides for the “Open Door,” that is, absolute freedom of commerce or at least equal liberty of trade to all nations. A pernicious feature of foreign occupancy is the establishment of “spheres of interest,” to the detri- ment of the nation in which they are delimited, and too often conflict- ing with one another. So far as the present war is concerned, only the colonies of Germany are brought into question. Practically all of these have been seized by Great Britain during the war, a natural result of her control of the sea. It will be quite impracticable to hold a plébiscite in these captured colonies to determine their future allegiance. For example, in German Samoa (Upolu) there exists a large body of natives numbering some thousands, a few dozen white people comprising German officials and 7 Referring to the occupation of Chitral in northern India by the British in 1895, Lord Morley thus describes the five stages of the road of ‘‘high Empire’: ‘‘First you push into territories where you have no business to be, and where you had promised not to go; secondly, your intrusion provokes resent- ment, and, in these wild countries, resentment means resistance; thirdly, you instantly cry out that the people are rebellious and that their act is rebellion (this in spite of your own assurance that you have no intention of setting up a permanent sovereignty over them); fourthly, you send a force to stamp out the rebellion; and fifthly, having spread bloodshed, confusion and anarchy, you declare with uplifted hands to the heavens that moral reasons force you to stay, for if you were to leave, this territory would be left in a condition which no civilized power could contemplate with equanimity or composure. These are the five stages in the Forward Rake’s Progress.’’ ern re ANNEXATION AND CONQUEST 513 traders, an American hotel-keeper and trader, an American private banker or money-lender, two or three British lawyers, and finally a group of planters owning the cocoanut groves, most of these latter being naturalized German-Australians resident at Sydney. For the rest a few hundred serfs, negroids, brought from the Solomon islands. A similar problem existed in Hawaii at the time of its annexation to the United States in 1900. The population of American or of North European descent, numbering about 12,000, owned and ruled the island, having overturned the native queen some years before and es- tablished a nominal republic. The native Hawaiians numbered about 35,000. There were also about 20,000 Portuguese. Largely in a state of semi-servitude as laborers on the sugar plantations were about 60,000 Japanese and 25,000 Chinese, besides Coreans and Polynesians. Under a plébiscite the Hawaiians would mostly have opposed annexation. The Europeans generally favored it, but the final decision could hardly have been left to the illiterate majority on the plantations. We must therefore fall back on the simple denial of the right of con- quest even of colonial dependencies. ‘The German colonies seized during the war should revert, unless, as a result of negotiation, some friendly exchanges can be made. Some such readjustments might seem to be possible and desirable. It is certainly not wise to deprive a nation which has its heart set on colonial control of all opportunity to experiment with it. Colonial experience on a large scale tends to reduce the pressure of militarism at home, though at the same time expanding the demands of the military group. In time also it teaches the art of administration, which is ap- parently to be learned mainly through failure. The ultimate lesson seems to be that the only cement which really binds an empire together is the bond of freedom. Government which rests on force alone becomes ultimately brutal. This saying is credited to Cavour: We can do anything with bayonets except to sit on them. Provision might be made in international law for some form of con- demnation of territory needed for purposes of civilization and held by recalcitrant tribes. But such right of condemnation should not be assumed by a powerful nation as against a weaker one. If necessity exists at all, it is a sort of community interest, in which any action taken should be a joint enterprise of the nations concerned. The posi- tion of the United States in regard to the Canal Zone in Panama would have been stronger if the approval of the great states of South America had been secured before action was taken. In some of the more difficult of the problems involved in the adjust- ment to follow the war (those concerning Constantinople, Macedonia, Armenia, Mesopotamia, Syria, Persia, the Congo) it may be found VOL. 11.—35. 514 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY profitable or necessary to form international commissions of control. These would have their difficulties, but the purpose being fair play, the embarrassments would be relatively unimportant. The main thing is that modern methods of open conference should supersede traditional diplomacy. V. CoNcLUSION We may now amplify Article I. No right of conquest shall be recognized and no military necessity to the prejudice of neutral people or of neutral nations. No annexation or transfer of territory shall be made by force as a result of war or conquest. In case a problem of transfer of allegiance should concern a homogeneous civilized district accustomed to self-government by plébis- cite, no transfer shall be made except in accordance with the will of the people, expressed in the secret ballot and without duress, the basis of suffrage being that already recognized in such region, preferably “ one man, one vote.” Whether any given district or province shall vote as a whole or by smaller units must depend on the actual conditions in the region concerned. To the above we may add certain allied propositions. All extortions of indemnities by force of arms must be condemned as of the moral status of highway robbery. Democratic control of foreign policy, involving the right of every people to keep out of war, would be a powerful influence towards inter- national stability. Its logical outcome would be the abolition of a system of military conscription which has made an armed camp of the continent of Europe. All use of military intimidation as a political argument is fundamentally wrong because opposed to security and progress. Sci- ence is human experience tested and set in order. Science decries every influence which works adversely to human welfare, impairing abundance of life. In so far as the propositions here set forth are sound, they represent “positive law” as defined by Grotius, that sequence of cause and effect which is inherent in the nature of human relations and which forms the solid basis of International Law. “ Voluntary Law,” whether the result of democratic agreement of the people or diplomatic deals of autocratic rulers, can never attain equal solidity or have equal binding force. Finally, the success of any plan for durable peace must rest on the acceptance in good faith of Article 9 of the “Minimum Program.” This provides for the abolition of secret treaties, with the permanent elimination of tortuous wrangling diplomacy and methods of medi- evalism. THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE 545 THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE THE NEGLECT OF SCIENCE IN GREAT BRITAIN A NUMBER of leading Brit'sh men of science have united in signing a me- morial protesting against the national neglect of science. T’.y include Lord Rayleigh, Sir William Crookes, Sir Wil- liam Ramsay, Sir William Osler and thirty-two others whose names earry great weight. the war began, due directly as well as indirectly to lack of knowledge on the part of legislators and administrative officials of the ascertained facts and principles of science. Not only the highest ministers of state are ignorant of science, but the same defect runs through almost all the departments of | the civil service; it is nearly universal in the House of Commons and is shared by the general public, including a large proportion of those engaged in indus- trial and commercial enterprises. The only exceptions are the navy and the | legislator or administrator than a law- medical service of the army, in which results have been achieved by men who have had a scientific training. It is said that success now and in the difficult time of reorganizing after the | war depends largely on the possession | by leaders and administrators of scien- tific method and the scientific habit: of mind. They must have knowl- edge and the habit of promptly ap- plying known means to known needs. This can only be effected by a great | change in the education of the class from which officials are drawn. The education of the democracy would fol- low a change in the education of the wealthy classes. It is pointed out that at present the methods of the old vested | interests have retained their dominance at least as far as the ancient universi- ties and the great schools are con- cerned. At Cambridge, but four col- leges are presided over by men of sci- entific training, at Oxford, not one. Of the thirty-five largest and best-known public schools, thirty-four have class- ical men as masters, none has a scien- tific man. The examinations for en- trance into Oxford and Cambridge and for appointments in the civil service ‘ | and in the army are s - The memorial urges that | d in the army are such as to encour Great Britain has suffered checks since | 28° the neglect of the study of the nat- ural sciences and to some extent to en- courage an indifferent not to say a con- temptuous attitude towards them. The |/memorial urges the electors -to insist that candidates for their suffrages Should pledge themselves to aid by leg- islation in bringing about a drastic re- form in the scheme for examinations in all the public services, a reform which it is claimed is vital to the continued _ existence of Great Britain as a great | power. A scientific man used to dealing with things as they are is probably a better yer used to dealing in words and tra- dition. But expertness in science does not make a man omniscient or always w:se in other directions. To take a trivial example, these thirty-six distin- guished men of science blame a member of the government for not knowing that glycerine can be obtained from lard, but in the preceding paragraph they say that Lord Playfair is the only trained man of science who has been a cabinet minister, whereas he never was a cabinet minister. Sir William Crookes’s opin- ion as to ghosts is not valuable. Sir William Ramsay doubtless regards Pro- fessor Ostwald’s views on the conduct of the war as extremely fool’sh, and Professor Ostwald in turn doubtless looks on Sir William Ramsay’s publi- cations regarding the permanent sub- PROFESSOR JOSIAH ROYCE, THE LATE PROFESSOR WILLIAM JAMES AND PROFESSOR Grorcr Herperr PALMER. This painting of the three distinguished professors of philosophy of Harvard University by Mrs. Winifred Ruber will probably be purchased by a group of alumni for presentation to the university. Professor Royce is seated on the left; Professor James is seated on the right; Professor Palmer is standing. 518 jection of Germany is beyond measure absurd. There is no reason to suppose that the study of the classical languages is carried to excess in the United States, though a great deal of time is doubt- less wasted in our schools on the ele- ments of languages which are never learned or used. The classical curricu- lum dominates the German gymnasium more completely than it does the Eng- lish public school. The number of people who can read Latin in Germany is far greater than the number in Eng- land, but in equal measure the number trained for research work in science is greater. According to Professor Vig- non, of Lyons, there are for each 1,000 chemists in Germany 28 in France and 24 in England. What both Great Brit- | ain and the United States can learn from Germany is not so much substituting one kind of memory work for another in the schools and in civil service ex- aminations, as the appreciation of the Supreme value of research and the im- portance of depending on the expert in the field in which he is competent. RECENT EXPERIMENTS IN AERODYNAMICS THE Smithsonian Institution has just issued and sends us an abstract of an. illustrated pamphlet containing a series of technical reports on experiments re- cently conducted in the wind tunnel for aerodynamics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, at Boston, Mass. In writing on this wind tunnel itself, J. C. Hunsaker, assistant naval con- structor, U. S. N., and instructor of aeronautics at the Institute, says that since it is difficult to carry on full scale experiments to investigate the aerodynamical characteristics of a pro- posed air-craft design, tests are made on small models, as in naval archi- tecture. The experiments are further simplified by holding the models sta- tionary in an artificial current of air with a maximum wind speed from 34 to 40 miles an hour, instead of towing THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY | them at high speeds through still air to simulate actual flying conditions. After a study of the principal aero- dynamical laboratories of - Europe, it was decided to reproduce at Boston the four-foot diameter wind tunnel of the National Physical Laboratory of Teddington, England, together with the aerodynamical balance and instru- ments used there for measuring veloc- ity. In this connection the director of the English laboratory generously presented the detailed plans of the complete installation to the Masachu- setts Institute of Technology. Mr. Hunsaker describes the wind tunnel, the aerodynamical balance, and ex- plains some of the experiments and principles involved The second article of the series com- prises notes on the dimensional theory of wind tunnel experiments, by Edgar Buckingham, of the U. S. Bureau of Standards, who defines the theories and principles involved, and suggests stand- ardization of the methods employed. In another report Mr. Hunsaker dis- cusses the most common and conve- nient form of pressure anemometer, known as the Pitot tube, an instru- ment used in calculating the wind ve- locity from the pressure differences. He also describes the construction of an inclined manometer, a form of pres- sure gauge, used in the experiments. Messrs. H. E. Rossell and D. W. | Douglas report on their experiments concerning the adjustment of the ve- locity gradient across a section of the tunnel. Since in wind tunnel experi- ments it is essential that the velocity of the air striking different parts of the model under test, shall be the same, it was -necessary after developing pre- cise methods for measuring the veloc- ity, to explore the cross-section of the tunnel to detect variations in velocity from point to point. The results of their experiments and the effects se- cured by the adjustment of a honey- comb grating, which straightened out the flow of air, are recorded. Tests of the characteristic curves for nas en Landaa THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE wing sections are discussed by Messrs. H. E. Rossell, C. L. Brand, and D. W. Douglas. They experimented with and tested the aerodynamical constants published by the British Advisory Com- mittee for Aeronautics for wing pro- file R.A.F, 6, and found the results to aeroplane design. J. C. Hunsaker discusses stability of steering of a dirigible, citing some of his experimental tests with a wooden model of a dirigible hull fitted with rudders and fins in accordance with regular practice. It is now possible to base the design of fin and rudder area upon his data instead of ‘‘rule of thumb.’’ His experiments proved that with the size rudder and fin fitted (7.79 and 3.47 sq. inches), the ship could be held on its course by the use of not more than 164 degrees of rud- der. The importance of a vertical rud- der was proved, but it was found im- possible in practice to give sufficient vertical fin area to hold the ship on its course without the use of the helm. The pitching and yawing moments on a model of a Curtiss aeroplane chassis and fuselage, complete with tail and rudder, but without wings, struts or propeller are set forth in an article by Messrs. Hunsaker and Doug- las. Swept back wings are discussed by Messrs. Rossell and Brand, who maintain that with a sweep back of ten degrees an appreciable righting moment may be expected without change in any of the other aerody- namical properties of the straight wing. In order to ascertain whether the righting moment secured by swept back wings as investigated by Messrs. Ros- sell and Brand, could be better ob- tained by another method, Messrs. Hunsaker and Douglas experimented with dihedral angle wings. tain that the didehral angle wings af- ford better results than the swept back wings, and since the former are built the dihedral is of more value for pur- They main- | grees. be sufficiently precise for purposes of | 579 poses of lateral stability. Attention is called to the fact that the ‘‘Lang- ley aerodromes’’ built by the late See- retary of the Smithsonian Institution, were equipped with dihedral angle wings inclined upwards about six de- The last article is by J. C. Hunsaker and deals with critical speeds for flat discs in normal wind. LONG-RANGE WEATHER FORECASTS THE chief of the U. S. Weather Bu- _Teau has sent us a statement to the ef- fect that in the opinion of the bureau a new system of long-range weather fore- casting, which has been widely discussed recently, is quite fallacious. The new system is said to be based on the spot- tedness of the sun and rifts and shafts of solar radiation. In the opinion of | the Weather Bureau it belongs in the same class with other methods of long- range weather forecasting based on lunar, planetary, magnetic and astrolog- ical considerations. None of these sys- tems has any scientific value. During the past few years the Weather Bureau has received full specifications concerning all the essen- tial details of this particular system. The alleged discovery is, therefore, fully known to the Weather Bureau and has been carefully studied and exam- ined by its scientific staff. Moreover, other scientific men of international reputation now connected with the strongest institutions of the world en- gaged in astronomical research, and conducting investigations into solar and terrestrial physics, have also passed upon these new theories. These au- thorities are in accord that the deduc- tions and conclusions drawn from the solar conditions on which the new sys- tem is based are unwarranted. When the disk of the sun is minutely examined with powerful telescopes, or when it is photographed with the aid of the modern spectroheliograph, the sur- face presents a characteristic spotted much more easily, it is believed that. appearance which undergoes slight _changes from day to day, and greater 520 changes with longer intervals of time, depending upon the well-known rotation of the sun upon its axis and the peri- odic recurrence of the sunspot maxima and minima. These and certain well- known related phenomena are now put forward as the basis of a new science | which will make possible forecasts of the weather far in advance. That these features of solar activity, however, actually should control and determine | the daily changes and weather conditions in any definite direct and consequential manner, quite impossible. Solar phenomena the kind described do not have any di- rect influence upon the weather at any particular time and place, and can not | be made the basis of any forecasts whatsoever. The alleged discovery is only one of | a number of similar schemes which are continually being put forward. In Some cases the advocates assert that they can forecast the weather for weeks or months in advance, and in others) they state that they have found means of producing rain artificially, of pre- venting hail, and in other ways of inter- fering with and controlling atmospheric phenomena. These pretensions meet with a certain credence because there are a number of people who still cling to the ancient belief in the influence of the moon on the growth and develop- ment of crops, and to the idea that the weather conditions depend upon plane- tary and astrological combinations. In consequence the Weather Bureau has been called upon from time to time to caution the general public against put- ting faith in these so-called discoveries. The U. S. Weather Bureau is the au- thorized agency of the government to collect meteorological observations and | make and issue weather forecasts and warnings. the world has a similar organization and all use essentially the same methods. All these organizations condemn and disprove the methods and theories of those who assert that they are able to predict the weather for any considerable period in advance. sequence of | or | is | of | Every important nation of | THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY SCIENTIFIC ITEMS WE record with regret the death of Dr. Harry Clary Jones, professor of physical chemistry in the Johns Hop- kins University; of Theodore Pergande, of the Bureau of Entomology; of Wells Woodbridge Cooke, of the Biological Survey; of John Wesley Judd, formerly professor of geology and dean of the Royal College of Science, London, and |of Ernst Mach, emeritus professor of the history and theory of inductive sci- ence at Vienna. Dr. HENRY FAIRFIELD OSBORN, presi- | dent of the American Museum of Nat- /ural History, gave the William Ellery Hale Lectures at the meeting of the National Academy of Sciences in April. The subject was ‘‘The Origin and Evo- lution of Life on the Earth.’’—Dr. George Sarton, who is now lecturing in the United States on the history of sci- ence, the former editor of Isis, an in- | ternational review devoted to the phi- losophy and history of science, pub- lished in Belgium, but discontinued during the war, has been awarded the Prix Binoux by the Paris Academy of Sciences. APPROPRIATIONS amounting to $1,200,- 000 have recently been made by the Rockefeller Foundation. To the Rocke- feller Institute for Medical Research is given $1,000,000 for additional endow- ment needed in connection with the De- partment of Animal Pathology, recently established near Princeton, N. J. To the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research, $25,000 goes for the cost of medical work at the seat of war in Europe. Most of this appropriation will be used for the support of the re- search and hospital work being con- ducted by Dr. Alexis Carizel in France. The China Medical Board receives $125,000 for the purchase of additional property adjoining the Union Medical College in Pekin. The international committee of the Young Men’s Chris- tian Association receives $50,000 in sup- port of the work in the military prison | camps of Europe. PE OC ae ee MONE ERE JUNE, 1916 THE OLDEST PLACE OF WORSHIP IN THE WORLD* By WALTER K. FISHER STANFORD UNIVERSITY, CALIFORNIA 4 ae Shan in central Shantung is the most noteworthy of the five sacred mountains of China and is the oldest place of uninterrupted worship in the world. In the remotest mythical period kings made reg- ular sacrifices on the mountain top, the nearest approach to heaven known to them, and this practice continued into the eleventh century of the Christian Era. To-day a temple marks this primeval altar, and the infrequent foreigner may carelessly stand on the rocks where Yao and Shun, heroes of China’s “ Golden Age,” made their offering to the Spirit of Heaven. In the earliest mention of the mountain, about 2,000 B.c., and probably long after it had become an object of religious regard, we find the worship described as being, not of the mountain, nor of a spirit abiding there, but of one God, a dweller in heaven. Yet from time immemorial the people have personified the mountain or imagined that it has a soul, or is inhabited by a spirit, which is alluded to as the genius of the mountain. This has been given names, which have changed in different epochs. In 1369 the Buddhist founder of the Ming Dynasty decreed that worship should be offered to Tung Yo T*ai Shan. When Taoist influence becomes predominant, Tai Shan has a birthday, and is the abode of a multitude of spirits, and has to do with the birth, death, adversity and prosperity of mortals, while the little hill of Kao Li at its foot is closely associated with the judgment of human souls after death. In the sixth, seventh, tenth and twelfth cen- turies the Buddhists were in control, but now their presence is scarcely noticeable. The temples have fallen into the hands of illiterate Taoist priests who seem to foster the worship of the “ Lady of Tai Shan” rather than of the mountain itself. The legends of the “Jade Lady,” as she was at first called, are very indefinite. She has been seen twice, first in 2600 B.c., and again about A.D. 65, as one of seven women, dressed in feathers and crowned with clouds. A more popular tale identifies her with a girl named Yu Yeh, born near Tai Shan in the year 143 B.c., who at a tender age went to live in a cave on the mountain, hoping to 1 Photographs by the author. VOL, 11.—36. TAI SHAN (GREAT MOUNTAIN) FROM NEAR THE BEGINNING OF THE PILGRIMS’ WAY, which is shown on the left. The ‘‘ Highteen Flights” leading to the Heaven Gate can be seen below the notch some distance to the left of the peak. Note the gardens in the ravine. become a fairy. After three years she is said to have attained her ‘object. About 1008 a marble statue of the Lady was found in the Pool of the Jade Lady on the mountain-top, and this discovery seems to be responsible for her present popularity. ‘The chapel in which this statue was placed preceded the present Lady Temple, the chief shrine at the summit. Aside from its local features, the religious fortunes of the mountain have followed those of China as a whole. The annual pilgrimage is the most characteristic feature of the worship. The shrines are thronged with pilgrims during the first three or four months of the year. In former times they attended in hun- dreds of thousands, even millions, from all over the empire, but now the numbers have greatly fallen off and few come from beyond the province. The pilgrimage is the occasion of a fair in the walled town of Tai An at the south base of the mountain. Here the large Lady Temple is filled with shops of all sorts, and in the open spaces outside are refresh- ment venders, quacks, peep-shows, minstrels, and story-tellers. The pilgrims travel very frequently in clubs. Each member contributes a monthly subscription to the promoters until a sufficient sum has been collected. Then in the first moon (February) they set out, usually afoot, the leader carrying a flag with the name of their town and other items written upon it, while the other members often wear a red or yellow girdle. Their money is spent first on religious duties, secondly on food, fairs, gambling, and lastly in some cases on erecting a stone tablet to commemorate the names and subscriptions of the participants. Prior to the completion of the Tienstsin-Pukow railroad it was diffi- OLDEST PLACE OF WORSHIP IN THkh WORLD 523 TAI SHAN FROM BEYOND THE HALF-WAY STATION; Heaven Gate and the steps leading to it on the left. The two conspicuous squares on the face of the cliff are inscriptions left by former pilgrims. Compare with neighboring pine tree. In the foreground the Pilgrims’ Way is on the right. cult for a foreigner to reach Tai Shan. Now the journey is a long day by train from Tientsin to a small station called Taianfu, two miles west of the walled town of Tai An, which crouches at the south base of the mountain, and from which the remarkable Pilgrims’ Way sets out. Be it remembered the railroad has not brought the English language, nor the foreign hotel. Except for the trains, this part of the ancient kingdom of Lu has changed little since the days of Confucius.? We quitted Taianfu in the chill of an October dawn, borne in mountain chairs by sturdy Shantung men. There were four of these chairs,* each carried by two men, while four extra bearers followed the caravan to relieve the others. We made a brave showing as the coolies pattered over the rough plain toward approaching day. ‘Tai Shan looked all of its 5,000 feet. Its gaunt head and shoulders were chang- 2 Without the aid of Mr. P. H. Henry Sze of the Tientsin-Pukow railroad, who generously acted as cicerone and supplied a comfortable private car, two American wanderers would never have beheld the cliffs of gray Tai Shan. The language alone is a sufficient barrier to a foreigner, while it requires a con- siderable outfit to utilize a Chinese native inn. To the Honorable Alfred Sze I am equally indebted for having suggested the pilgrimage, and for having aided in its accomplishment. 3 These chairs consist of a square frame with a few cords stretched over it for seat, and fitted with a foot board and a low back. Two curved carrying poles are fixed to the frame with iron clamps, and are slung by long leather straps and cords over the shoulders of the bearers, who often hold the ends of the poles in their hands. In going up or down the steep mountain path, or sometimes also on level ground, the bearers walk abreast, with the occupant facing sideways between them. A third man may aid the others. 524 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY THE Urrer Part OF THE PILGRIMS’ Way, showing the Eighteen Flights and the South Gate of Heaven. The road here follows the margin of a dry torrent bed. Note the people on the road. ing to a rosy image of the erstwhile uncompromising crags, while broad masses of shadow still clung to its uncertain boulder-strewn flanks and ravines. Greeted by dogs, we flitted past Tai An, up the broad Pil- grims’ Way where so many of the lowly and great of China had pre- ceded us. This road, ten feet in width, paved with rock and often bordered by substantial walls, clambers up ravines, over ornate bridges, meanders through venerable cypress groves, jumps over ledges in 4 Although called cypresses these trees are really large Thuya orientalis. OLDEST PLACE OF WORSHIP IN THE WORLD §25 THE TAI SHAN CHAIR. flights of steps and with a trajectory like that of a sky-rocket scales the last steep gorge and disappears through the South Gate of Heaven, nearly five miles from Tai An. With the coming of the sun a multitude of beggars crept from near-by hamlets and demanded coppers in whining tones. Above a zone of small temples, overshadowed by ash-like huai trees, we came upon huge boulders underneath which had been constructed little cells “THE BEARERS STOPPED FOR BREAKFAST AT A SorT OF LITTLE HALF-WAY STATION, where over acrid fires of cow-dung they brewed tea and devoured huge cakes resem- bling hardtacks, twenty inches in diameter.” 526 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY THE SourH GATE OF HEAVEN (NAN T‘IEN MEN). This great gate marks the entrance to the sacred precincts of the summit and is at the top of the Shih Pa Pan er Eighteen Flights. 3eyond it are all the temples of the mountain-top, and a small village of thatched stone huts which line a continuation of the Way, leading to the Lady Temple. Note the chain on the left placed there to aid weary pilgrims. in which beggars or perhaps holy folk live when the way is thronged with devotees. On the stony sides of the ravine were little garden patches, with here and there a mud-and-stone walled house. Magpies called from the cypress-clad slopes, and an occasional Chinese blue-pie stopped on a wall to inspect us. Among the numerous honorary gate- ways or pailows, we passed under one characteristically Chinese, for growing out of the front were two. fairly large cypresses. Weeds, OLDEST PLACE OF WORSHIP IN THE WORLD ul tN ~ THE PILGRIMS’ Way, FROM THE GATE OF HEAVEN. Looking down the Eighteen Flights, over spurs of Tai Shan. This is the steepest part of the ‘‘ road,’ which for many hundreds of feet is a huge flight of stone steps. If one holds the picture horizontally directly below the eyes, the effect of steepness is partly gained. bushes, and even trees adorn nearly every edifice of sanctity, as well as others of no pretensions. The bearers stopped for breakfast at a sort of little half-way station, where over acrid fires of dry, peaty, cow-dung they brewed tea in pewter- bound, globular pots of unglazed earthenware, once white but now a meerschaum brown from long use. Fortified with this, they devoured huge cakes resembling hardtacks, twenty inches in diameter. Then 528 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY THE TEMPLE OF THE MOUNTAIN LabDy. “ At the end of a meandering street skirting the verge of some cliffs is the principal Lady Temple. built of stone covered with reddish plaster and roofed with yellow and gray tiles (sometimes of brass or iron).”’ The steps lead to the west gate (1661). The second roof to the left, that of the Gate Hall, is covered with iron tiles. The main temple is the last large building of this group, to the left. It is roofed with brass or copper tiles. Of the three temples in the upper left corner, the lowest is dedicated to Confucius. Note the thatch held down by sticks and stones. each drew from a tube at his belt a little pipe which he deftly lit with flint and steel. The flint and tinder (soft Chinese paper rolled into a cylinder and charred at the end) were kept in a small ornamented wallet, the lower side of which had a piece of steel the whole length like the runner of a skate. On either side of the Pilgrims’ Way, deeply chiseled in the rock, are numerous inscriptions, some gigantic in size. They record the visits and thoughts of pilgrims of note. Some are poems, and of many the ideographs are archaic, perhaps antedating the present road itself. It is pretty certain that the Way follows the course of an extremely ancient trail, yet who built it, or when, is not definitely known. It has been called the P‘an Tao or P‘an Lu and a book of the Han Dynasty (202 B.c.—A.D. 220) says: “The P‘an Tao goes winding upward with over fifty stages (p‘an) and the distance from the foot to the ancient altar is 40 li.” At that time the great final ascent to the Tien Men, or Heaven Gate, evidently existed. It was called Huan Tao and pilgrims were aided in their climb by ropes. Now, cascading down a wild ravine for many hundreds of feet from the mouth of the Tien Men is the noble Shih Pa Pan (or Eighteen Flights) flanked for the last hundred feet by heavy iron chains. Those who are content to forego the exhilaration of a walk up Tai Shan are at least willing to forsake the mountain chairs on the Shih Pa Pan. Yet the coolies are said never to miss their footing. OLDEST PLACE OF WORSHIP IN THE WORLD 529 Scattered over the bleak mountain-top at several different levels are over half a dozen groups of temples of rather conventional Chinese vattern. The site of the ancient altar on the topmost peak is occupied by a small temple to Yu Huang, a Taoist God, dating from the middle ages. The roof is protected by heavy iron tiles resembling those of clay. The ground is classic, for here in China’s Golden Age were offered sacrifices to Heaven, and here many of the great scholars and statesmen of each succeeding dynasty were drawn by reverent curiosity. Con- fucius climbed Tai Shan and thought the empire small. Beside the steps leading to this altar is the Wu-tsu-pei, or Uninscribed Monument, a granite obelisk fifteen feet high, set up according to tradition by Ch‘in Shih H‘uang in the third century before Christ. On this part of the mountain are numerous inscriptions and monuments left by pil- grims. A rock called T‘an Hai Shih, upon which people stand to watch the sun rise “from the sea,” is not far from a cliff, whence numerous fanatics have plunged, hoping to save by their own death the life of a dying relative. A quiet, deserted-looking temple contains the sleeping image of the Mountain Lady, a figure which is dressed and undressed, put to bed and got up like a doll. Another temple partly hides a colos- sal monument in the form of an inscribed tablet cut in the face of a cliff. It is thirty feet high and sixteen feet wide. The characters were chiseled in 726 A.D. but are still clear after twelve centuries’ exposure to the elements. Below these temples and at the end of a meandering street skirting the verge of some cliffs is the Pi Hsia Ts‘u or principal Lady Temple, built THE TEMPLES SURROUNDING THE ANCIENT ALTAR ON THE SUMMIT OF TAI SHAN, dedicated to Yu Huang and dating from the middle ages. The altar is a knob of bare rock surrounded by a stone fence in a central courtyard. The ‘‘ Uninscribed Monument” is seen beside the steps. It was erected in the third century before Christ. 530 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY ~ » << “*< #5, THE LADY TEMPLE. A portion of the front, and the main court. In the huge incense-burner in the foreground we sacrificed a few bushels of paper temple money. Within the temple is an image of the Lady of the Mountain, along with other Taoist deities. The tiles are of copper. of stone covered with reddish plaster and roofed with yellow and gray tiles. It is reached by flights of steps, which lead to a terrace, thence to the great Gate Hall, opening upon the main court, the north side of which is occupied by the main Hall of the temple. Within, the chief images are those of the Lady and of the deities presiding over child- birth and eyes. In this court are some old bronze incense burners, in one of which we sacrificed a quantity of temple money, purchased from a priest. ‘This offering consisted of large disks of red and gilt paper, OLDEST PLACE OF WORSHIP IN THE WORLD 531 somewhat resembling a Chinese kite. Properly burnt with incense it is much appreciated by the Lady of the Mountain, who has no use for the coin of the realm. In a side chapel is a very ancient stone, with traces of archaic inscriptions. It is much cracked and is propped together by stones. But in these temples, as elsewhere in China, the visitor without the language of the country is practically lost. Information from the priests is vague and unrelated. The traveler must piece together the disconnected bits by a vast amount of surmise, and restrain his curi- osity until he can “read up,” perhaps a year Jater when he reaches home. This Pi Hsia Tz‘u is the most wealthy of the shrines on Tai Shan and owes its origin to the discovery of the Lady’s image in the Pool of the Jade Lady. The first temple was built in 1008. It was rebuilt on an elaborate scale in 1585, but was destroyed by fire in 1740 and recon- structed with considerable change in 1770. . Bordering the road which winds around the south face of the mountain from the Heaven Gate to the Lady Temple are picturesque stone huts, the roof thatch bound tight against the winter winds by strips of cane or bamboo. On the opposite side of the way, next to the wall above the bluffs, are massive stone tables between stone trenches, the tables marked into squares for some game like chess. Within, the cot- tages are smoked to a shiny blackness by the dung fires and streamers of soot are pendant from the dusky region of the thatch. They are occu- pied mostly by old people, two of whom hospitably gave me hot tea and took a childish delight in my interest in their simple belongings. The fire is made in a raised stone hearth, in the top of which are several apertures for the accommodation of iron saucepans and pewter kettles. The water flasks, lamps, dippers, and tea-pots are all of excellent design. The tea-pots are of earthenware, with pewter handle and spout, and stained a rich brown by long use. Silver would not tempt the old man shown holding temple money to part with his, for he told Mr. Sze it had been in the family for five generations and was very precious to him. The interiors are all very simple. Besides the raised hearth, there is a large earthenware water jar near the door, sometimes a rude table, and at one or both ends of the room a broad raised platform of coarse mat- ting or basket-work which serves as a bed and a settee. When the door is closed there is little light. These dwellers within Heaven’s Gate lead a life primitive in the extreme, and the rigors of winter must be severe on the old folks, unless perchance they all migrate to the plains. Finally, what is Taoism? It is commonly supposed to be the phi- losophy of Lao-tsze who, between 500 and 600 B.c., wrote the Tao Teh King. In practice it is no such thing. Lao-tsze taught the Tao, or the “Way,” concerning himself, as did Confucius, his contemporary, with ethical principles, the conduct of the individual and of society, and not at all with religion. The Tao was “the simplicity of spontaneity, 532 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY. ONE OF THE NUMEROUS INSCRIBED ROCKS ON THE Tor oF TAI SHAN. action without motive, free from all selfish purpose resting in nothing but its own accomplishment.” This is found in the phenomena of the material world. All things spring up without a word spoken, and grow without a claim for their production. They go through their processes without any display of pride in them; and the results are realized without any assumption of owner- ship. It is to the absence of such assumption that the results and their processes do not disappear (Chap. II.). He applied this principle to the government of society and the indi- vidual. His teaching reaches its highest levels in the following: OLDEST PLACE OF WORSHIP IN THE WORLD 533 DWELLINGS WITHIN THE GATE OF HEAVEN. ‘“ Bordering the road which winds around the south face of the mountain from the Heaven Gate to the Lady Temple are picturesque stone huts, the roof thatch bound tight against the winter winds by strips of cane or bamboo.” ‘This village is called the T‘ien Chieh, and the picture is from the foot of the steps leading to the Lady Temple. It is the way of Tao not to act from any personal motive, to conduct affairs without feeling the trouble of them, to taste without being aware of the flavor, to account the great as the small and the small as the great, to recom- pense injury with kindness. There is scarcely a word of Lao-tsze which savors of superstition or religion. Taoism to-day is a system of abject superstition. It did not take shape for more than 500 years after the death of Lao-tsze. INTERIOR OF A TAI SHAN Het. To the left is the stone stove with cooking utensils and, beyond, a table. On the right is a large water jar in front of a table set “for tea.”’ The old men are sitting on one of the bed platforms; the photograph was taken from the other. There is a broom leaning against the stove. 534 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY OLD MAN wirH TEMPLE Money. ‘This old man sells temple money to be burned at the altar of the Lady of the Mountain. It is made of red and gilt paper. Note the quilted coat and trousers and the fur cap with ear flaps. In the first century A.D. a magician Chang Tao-ling is the chief professor and controller of this Taoism, preparing in retirement the pill which renewed his youth, supreme over all spirits, and destroying millions of demons by a stroke of his pencil. It was not until about a.p. 70 that the system borrowed temples, monasteries, liturgies and forms of public worship from the Buddhists and set up business as a religion. After assuming the form of a religion it continued to degenerate until now it is “in reality a conglomeration of base and dangerous superstitions” fused with a system of the wildest OLDEST PLACE OF WORSHIP IN THE WORLD 535 polytheism. Alchemy, geomancy, spiritualism and black art generally flourish under its shadow. Each of its three Holy Ones (of whom Lao- tsze is one) has the title of Tien Tsun, “The Heavenly or Honored,” taken from Buddhism, and also of Shang Ti, or God, taken from the ancient religion of the country. To the myriad of other demigods and spirits are added many of merely local import, as the Lady of Tai Shan. As one looks from Heaven’s Gate, down the long Pilgrims’ Way and into the golden haze that lingers over the Cradle of China, he seems to conjure up that solemn procession of people and kings of old Cathay, stretching in an unending line to the dim legendary realm of a heroic age. Dynasties have risen and died, yet the innumerable multitude with each recurring spring has been drawn hither as by a titanic lode- stone. Each has had his own quest, and, doubtless, in spite of the trumpery of childish superstition, many now find solace on the mountain top. Yet while blindly following the Pilgrims’ Road has not the great host wandered far from the “ Way” which was blazed for them in the braver, saner days of old? 536 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH! IJ. EartH—GRowTH By Proressor THOMAS CHROWDER CHAMBERLIN THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO N the view that was dominant during the last century—perhaps - dominant still—the earth, when it had emerged from its natal con- ditions and had become a mature planet, was pictured as a molten globe surrounded by an atmosphere embracing all such earth-substance as would be volatile at the temperature of white-hot lava. The earth must then have been a perfect sphere, except as rotation imposed a symmet- rical deformation upon it, and even the details of its surface configura- tion scarcely departed from the contours of a perfect spheroid. Its internal structure must have been symmetrical, the denser material at the center, the less dense in concentric layers about this, the least dense at the surface. Each layer should have been essentially homogeneous in itself. The stresses within the earth, at first, must have been purely hydrostatic, increasing necessarily from the surface to the center. The evolution of the earth under this concept was actuated by changes of energy within the hot young planet itself, chiefly loss of energy by radiation. At an early stage-of this loss, a crust formed over the uniform surface of the symmetrical spheroid, dividing the fluids below from the fluids above. On this crust, the vapors descended, and 2 universal ocean followed; and then—if we pursue the picture so im- pressively painted by the old masters in geology—there was a prolonged battle between fire and water, the ocean penetrating to the hot material beneath it and arousing explosive action of a spectacular sort. Lateral thrusts arose from the shrinkage of the cooling globe, followed by bow- ings, foldings and fractures. Here and there, the crust emerged from the universal ocean and the great contest between the sea and the land was initiated. Thus the postulated evolution was made to arise in sim- plicity and to go forward in a symmetrical, logical way. It was pic- tured with great impressiveness—not infrequently with a touch of elo- quence, often with a touch of poetry—by the masters of geology in the middle of the last century. We owe these old masters a tribute of gratitude for the clear views 1 Third series of lectures on the William Ellery Hale foundation, National Academy of Sciences, delivered at the meeting of the Academy at Washington, on April 19-21, 1915. THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 537 they set forth, and for the logical fidelity with which they followed the premises they adopted, a fidelity largely lost in these later years, by the adherents of the same cosmogonic tenets. This lapse is not without reason, for the later students of the earth have been compelled to ac- commodate their views to new disclosures of stubborn realities that do not fall into obvious accord with the cosmogonic antecedents so sharply postulated in the earlier years. It is perhaps not far from the truth to say that, in recent years, few geologists have tried to follow rigorously the cosmogonic tenets handed down to them. Usually they have con- tented themselves with shaping their views to fit the more specific as- pects of the phenomena they have had immediately under consideration. A multitude of divergencies from the simple tenets of our forefathers have thus arisen and have come to penetrate modern geologic literature in a most intricate way. The stubbornness of the realities revealed by progressive inquiry has amply justified a swerving from inherited tenets. It has equally invited a loosening of the hold of doctrines that depend on these tenets. In recent years the insubordination of new determina- tions to old interpretations has risen to declared refractoriness. The old problem of the origin of the continental embossments and the abys- mal basins, the problem that lies at the very threshold of earth science— always a troublesome problem, because of the great range of the in- equalities—has lately assumed a new form and become a burning ques- tion of the hour. Under the stress of time-limits, let us take this as a type of a large class of new issues. I refer to the fundamental question that lies beneath the growing doctrine of isostasy, the origin of the dif- ferentiation of specific gravities deep in the crust of the earth necessary to actuate isostatic movement, the very basis of isostasy. In this lies a grave challenge of the molten concept of the primitive earth. Very cogent reasons have been adduced from geodetic data, particularly by Hayford and Bowen, for the belief that the protrusions of the continents are in isostatic balance with the depressed segments beneath the oceans. It is hence inferred that the material beneath the continents is as much lighter than that beneath the oceans, as the former are protrusive and the latter depressive; in other words, the difference in the specific grav- ity of the rock columns beneath the continents and beneath the oceans, respectively, must extend far enough down to compensate for their dif- ferences of height. A great mass of refined observations support the isostatic view, at least in its major features. But from the earliest days of geologic record, the atmosphere and the hydrosphere have been persistently cutting away material from the continents and depositing it in the basins, while the continents have been pushed up, at repeated intervals, and the denudation renewed, else the sea would long since have crept over the whole land. Many thou- sands of feet have been cut away from the oldest known lands. Now VOL. 11.—37. 538 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY this implies that the low specific gravity beneath the continents has been deep enough and great enough to actuate isostatic movement, again and again, as the unloading of the land and the loading of the great water- basins has required. Differences of specific gravity adequate to this must have had a competent source; the differentiation must have been deep enough and great enough to have retained its efficiency through all the ages in spite of the persistent efforts of denudation and transporta- tion to effect an equilibrium, not only, but it must have been great enough to leave the present undetermined resources available for future isostatic movements. Now in a molten earth there should have been, at the start, a per- fect isostatic balance, in the fullest sense of the term. An adequate cause for any non-isostatic differentiation in such a liquid mass seems wholly unassignable ; certainly it has not been assigned ; on the contrary, there are the most obvious reasons why the state of gravitative balance should have been initially perfect under the molten theory and should be preserved, for the dominant tendency of surficial action is perpetually toward equilibrium. The agencies within, like the agencies without, should have worked hand in hand to maintain the isostatic stability inherited from the original state. The present state does not, therefore, seem to flow logically from the assigned initial state. But the case does not rest alone on logic, however cogent. If, in some unexplained way, there arose a deep differentiation of specific grav- ity of one type beneath the continents and of the opposite type beneath the oceans, and if the continents were thus forced to rise as their sur- faces were cut away, the original embossments would, by this late day, have been cut down many thousands of feet, and we should now have | free access to this much of the original molten interior of the earth. Our geologic forefathers, with their logical fidelity, so interpreted the deeper terranes so exposed in the heart of the old embossments, and some of us were indoctrinated with this concept in our youth. But as soon as petrologic science had come into possession of its modern effi- cient tools, it was discovered, almost simultaneously in the several crit- ical regions then under competent investigation, that the oldest known rocks are surface rocks and that the supposed original igneous rocks of the sub-crust are merely local intrusions. Taken together, these determinations constitute a formidable ob- stacle to the further acceptance of the inherited view. ‘There is an absence of such observational testimony in support of the hypothesis of a once molten interior as we have a right to expect, such indeed as our geologic forbears did expect, not only, but supposed they had found. There is now added to this deficiency the adverse implications of such a deep differentiation of specific gravity as to force deformative readjust- ments, even at this late day, in spite of all previous partial adjustments. THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 539 This seems quite incompatible with a primitive molten state of the earth. To some of us its adverse import is wholly decisive. If there is a line of escape, consistent with logical fidelity to observed facts and physical principles, I must leave it to others to find it. But we are less concerned with doctrines that fail than with doc- trines that seem to hold out working promise of a true interpretation. The renewed protrusion of the continents and the continued receptivity of the oceanic basins, constitute the working prerequisites of geology, the very sine qua non of our science. The verity of their initiation and their maintenance throughout all recorded geologic history must be justi- fied by any system of doctrine that has any claims to serious consider- ation. We feel, therefore, the call to dwell, in proportion to their im- portance, upon these fundamentals, in respect to which faith has been so much disturbed by recent disclosures. The cosmogonic postulates set forth in the last lecture gave a spe- cific working basis for an alternative picture of the early states and of the basal constitution of the earth. Briefly, these were a nebulous knot, as a center of growth, and much scattered nebulous matter as food for growth. The central portion of the knot was probably in a dominantly inter-collisional state, while the outer portion was almost inevitably in a dominantly orbital state, the latter circling about the former and limited outwardly by the sphere of control of the knot. The intercollisional portion should have rapidly collapsed into a dense spheroid so far as composed of rock-substance. The portion that revolved about this, after the manner of minute satellites, 7. e., satellitesimals, was collected only as the occasional collision of one satellitesimal with another drove them from their orbits into the earth nucleus or into the moon nucleus, or else they were driven in by infalling bodies from without, i. ¢., plan- etesimals. The aggregation of the knot was not then a simple matter of gaseous collapse by cooling. What portion of the knot belonged to the intercollisional and to the orbital categories, respectively, is at pres- ent indeterminate, but progressive study tends to increase the probabil- ities that favor the orbital state and to diminish those that favor the intercollisional state. The nucleus of the knot that condensed in gaseous fashion to form the primitive core of the earth may have been no more than a minor fraction of the adult earth. The scattered matter of the nebula, outside the knot, could appar- ently have been in no other than a state of movement about the sun. The scattered integers, whether moleclues or small aggregates, must ap- parently have pursued orbital paths of planetary type about the sun, that is, they must have been minute planets, or planetesimals. These were liable to fall into the earth knot in the course of their revolutions about the sun. The process must have been slow, as was also the in- gathering of the satellitesimals of the knot, but each aided the other. 540 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY INTERNAL REORGANIZATION An important deduction from such a genesis is the extreme hetero- geneity it must have given the substance of the earth and the internal reorganization that such heterogeneity must have induced. There should have been, to be sure, some selective action, because the more inelastic material would concentrate faster than the more elastic mat- ter, and the magnetic material would doubtless be gathered into the core, if it were magnetic, as is probable, faster than the non-magnetic material, but nevertheless much heterogeneity must have prevailed. The atmosphere should also have served a distributive, as well as a slightly selective, function. As the planetesimals plunged into the outer atmosphere of the juvenile earth, they must have been largely dissipated into dust, if we may judge from the effect suffered by meteorites. These are largely consumed in the very thin upper air; only a very small fraction reach the earth’s surface, and these are perhaps more massive than were the planetesimals. The planetesimal dust so generated no doubt floated long before it found final resting place on the earth’s sur- face. Whatever heat was generated in the plunge into the atmosphere must have been largely radiated away from the upper regions, and the temperature of the accretional portion of the early earth could scarcely have been high. The distribution of the accessions to the earth was thus incidentally conditioned by the atmospheric circulation. Descending currents nat- urally took precedence in bringing the dust down, but their dryness and turbulence near the earth’s surface tended to hold the lighter material longer in suspension than the heavier; the action was hence slightly selective. Precipitation, largely associated with the rising currents, brought down all classes of dust within its reach. The first lodgment was further modified by the waters of the juvenile earth with some further selective action. On the other hand, the internal agencies that shaped the earth-body, potentially shaped also the work of the waters, for these followed the slopes of the land and gathered in the basins of the growing surface. Both the irregularities of the surface and the water, in turn, modified the circulation of the atmosphere that swept over them. And so the shaping of the earth-body by planetesimal growth was the composite*product of the three great geologic factors, the atmosphere, the hydrosphere and the lithosphere, and should have been appreciably differentiated in specific gravity. THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF THE HARTH The material of the accessions should have taken on a more or less stratiform arrangement under the action of the atmosphere and hydro- sphere. Such molten matter as was poured forth from within likewise THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 541 should have assumed a rude stratiform arrangement. The combined effect of these processes was to give the earth a concentric structure, built up of very heterogeneous matter. At the same time there were processes that tended to develop a radial structure traversing these stratiform layers much as the medullary plates of a tree trunk traverse its concentric layers of growth. Such lavas as rose from the depths doubtless either insinuated their way through seams, crevices, schist planes, and other lines of weakness, or fluxed pathways for themselves along ducts of their own making. In addition to these, the compressions that arose from growth, from transfers of molten matter from the depths to the surface, from changes of temper- ature, from molecular rearrangements under pressure, to secure greater density, all contributed to readjustments, recombinations and recrystal- lizations accommodated to the stress-differences whose least axis usually pointed in the direction of the surface. Lateral compression is a famil- iar phenomenon, vertical schistosity is its normal result. Diastrophie agencies came into action at a very early stage, and hence at a low horizon within the earth and their effects upon the structure of the earth were extended upward to the successive layers that were added at the surface. The earth is thus supposed to have acquired a vertical schis- tosity which had its initiation at great depths. PARTIAL LIQUEFACTION AND THE PRESERVATION OF SOLIDITY The system of internal liquefaction and extrusion, assigned under the accretional hypothesis, departs rather radically from inherited views based on a supposed molten globe. It therefore invites critical con- sideration. Neglecting the very heart of the earth that is supposed to have grown from the gaseous nucleus of the knot of the nebula—the conditions of which are least certain and whose proper treatment is in- hibited by time—let it be noted that the matter gathered to the earth- nucleus as aggregates, or as accretional dust, was highly heterogeneous. Assuming that it was cold when deposited, heat arose from compression as layer was-added to layer. Such radioactive matter as the accessions contained also generated heat at multitudes of minute points. The in- creasing pressure, so far as uniform on all axes, antagonized liquefaction. With such a slowly rising temperature, so distributed and so antagonized, it may be assumed safely that liquefaction would start, so far as it started at all, with those points where particles mutually most soluble or most fusible were in contact with one another, or where most heat was generated by radioactive action, or where the two cooperated. If the mobile matter so generated slowly were removed about as fast as it gained workable volume, the main surrounding mass would remain solid. We have just named a list of stresses that may well be held competent to force at least all the lighter liquids toward the surface. We shall presently discuss these further. 542 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY It is now known from concurrent evidence—the most conclusive of which springs from the recent work of Michelson, Gale and Moulton on the body tides—that the earth is highly rigid and elastic. Aside from cosmogonic considerations, the grounds of which we have already chal- lenged, we know of no reasons for assigning the earth any other than the rigid state, at any time during the geologic ages. The planetesimal hypothesis assumes that the elastic rigid condition prevailed, at least in the outer half of the earth, throughout the history of its growth. It holds that the accessions were added in the solid state, and that such liquefaction as later arose in this solid matter must always have been merely partial and selective, and that the liquefied material was forced, by prevailing stresses, to the surface as fast as it reached working vol- ume. This is a radical departure from the inherited concept of a molten interior. The stresses that are believed to affect the interior of the earth are serious obstacles to the supposed existence of great reservoirs of liquid matter, lying quiescent for long ages, and undergoing mag- matic differentiation under assumed static conditions. The great dis- tortions that have certainly affected the earth to the greatest accessible depths and that are most intense in the deeper rocks, seem to be spe- cific evidence at variance with the assumption of such protracted quies- cent conditions. The newer view postulates effective stress conditions permeating the globe at all times during its adolescent, as well as adult, history, and that these effective stresses tended to force to the surface all mobile materials, except possibly some whose specific gravities were suffi- ciently high to resist the ascensive pressure. The new view makes its first and most fundamental appeal to the differential stresses imposed by changes of rotation. The primary stres- ses of rotation give evidence of having been the greatest that have been imposed upon the body of the earth, except those of gravitation, which are hydrostatic. According to Sir George Darwin, the rotational stress- differences are eight times as great at the center as at the surface. The potential stress-difference that would become actual at the center of the earth by the arrest of the existing rotation amounts to 33 tons per square inch. ‘The tidal stress-differences have a similar distribution, but they are relatively feeble, though persistent and pulsatory. The more general class of stresses that arise from loading and unloading through erosion and transportation perhaps have a somewhat similar distribu- tion. ‘The static stresses due directly to gravity, range from one atmos- phere at the surface to about three million at the center. From these cooperating stresses, a persistent urgency to escape to the surface is be- lieved to have been brought perpetually to bear on the mobile and, in the main, lighter liquid material as fast as it was generated. The less sol- uble, more refractory, and, in general, denser material remained behind, but probably approached mobile conditions sufficiently to permit rather THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 543 free molecular rearrangements, especially such as would give higher density. Under the general principles of endothermic action, heat-ab- sorbing combinations may be assumed to have taken place with corre- sponding limitations of liquefaction. Crystalline rearrangement in the interest of density, and at the same time consistent with high elastic rigidity, is thought to have been favored and to have taken such forms and mutual relations as to give schistosity favorable to deformative movements. Such liquefaction as took place would consume heat, in addition to that of the endothermic recrystallization, while the escape of the liquid material to the surface carried out this latent heat, as well as a due portion of sensible heat. Incidentally, the escaping lavas carried out also radioactive substances and gradually reduced the heating process. The compressibility also declined with the progress of compression, and this source of heat also declined. With compression and with the in- crease of static pressure, the rigidity should have increased. So the complex process inherently tended to an end of its own making. The process of vulcanism is thus made a means of removing to the surface the excess of internal temperature, as it arises, together with the source of that temperature, performing in this way a service closely analogous to the process of perspiration in the animal body. This view is eminently consistent with the tidal and the other astronomic indica- tions of the elastic rigidity of the earth that have recently become so declared, and also with seismic data whose evidence is less complete, though strongly tending in the same direction. It is also in harmony with the conclusion, reached by special students of the subject, ihat radioactive substances are chiefly concentrated at the surface. Still further, it is in harmony with the acidic composition and the low specific gravity of the outer part of the earth. The view seems also to be in fair consonance with what is known of the eutectic nature of rocks, the selective production of magmas, and the progressive differentiation of magmas, both in their ascensive and in their descensive careers. Such effusive matter as reached the surface in the earlier stages was buried later by the infalling planetesimals and planetesimal dust, and so it was again subjected to selective processes, with further differentia- tion, and this might be repeated again and again, so that, in the end, there was a progressive concentration of the more refractory and the denser material toward the central parts, and of the lighter and more solvent, toward the outer parts. This selective action was of course superposed upon the selective ingathering of planetesimals, dependent upon magnetic and inelastic properties, and upon the selective action of the atmosphere and the hydrosphere. Thus, under this concept, the earth came to its maturity slowly under selective agencies that tended at all stages to differentiate its material. 544 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY So also, under this concept, deformative agencies came into action early and persisted through all stages of growth, though at all times more or less periodic in their specific manner of action. These deform- ative agencies now claim our attention. ORIGIN OF THE GREAT PHYSIOGRAPHIC FEATURES The most notable of past attempts to account for the continental embossments and the oceanic basins, in accordance with the theory of a molten earth, was undoubtedly that of Lothian Green, who appealed for his first premise to the fact that a spherical surface embraces the maximum of matter within the minimum of surface, and that this should have obtained in the primitive state of the earth. For his second premise, he urged that the globe, when forced to shrink from cooling, would tend in the direction of that symmetrical form which had the minimum of content with the maximum of surface, the tetrahedron. The cogency of this logic I must leave to your own judgment. On this concept, arose the doctrine of the tetrahedral earth. Assuming that the duodecahedral form of the tetrahedral type was early attained, Lothian Green located the continental protuberances at certain of the angles and the oceanic basins at alternate angles. The logic was frankly based on the doctrine of a molten earth and does not seem to be transferable to an accretional earth. Under the planetesimal view, it seems scarcely less than necessary to assume that the great differentiations of the earth’s surface arose from specific deformative stresses that came into action early in the process of growth and were more or less recurrent throughout the whole adoles- cent luistory of the earth. The controlling influence that gave shape to the juvenile earth seems to have arisen from changes of rotation. Ro- tation is far and away the greatest of all the deformative agencies to which the earth has been subjected. Its residual effect—not its total effect—is now seen in a radial difference of thirteen miles between the polar and the equatorial radii, but this is only the net result of a long series of earlier effectsof opposite phases. The rotational stresses permeate the entire mass of the earth and, as already remarked, are greater at the center than at the surface. Such pervasive and penetrating stresses are preeminently suited to produce broad, deep, and pervasive deformative effects. The breadth and symmetry of the direct rotational effects are seen in the great graduated equatorial bulge and in the broad graduated polar depressions. This symmetrical distortion of the sphere satisfies the primary demands of rotation but not the incidental demands of changes of rotation. The bulging and the depression of these broad tracts involved ten- sion and compression in the segments so affected, and lines of accom- modation to these stresses were requisite. It is assumed that these THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 545 lines of accommodation would define as few broad divisions of appro- priate form and magnitude as would serve to satisfy their main require- ments, leaving minor requirements to be satisfied by minor accommoda- tions. It is assumed further that these major divisions would be so related to one another as to act reciprocally, one set rising in the equa- torial regions, the other set sinking in the polar regions, and the reverse, according as the rotation was accelerated or was retarded. Since the earth is held to have been a rigid body, it is held—and this will bear emphasis—that the units of action would be as few as could fairly satisfy the main demands of the case, and that these parts would be as simple and symmetrical in their forms and in their working relations to one another as practicable. The probabilities of successive oscillations between acceleration and retardation of rotation are dependent on the specific history of the for- mation of the globe. Under the planetesimal hypothesis, a part of the earth’s rotation was inherited from the knot that formed its center of growth, but an important portion also arose from the momentum of infalling planetesimals. In the nature of the case, some of the infalls tended to accelerate rotation, while others tended to retard it, and so changes in the ratios of these two classes, arising from irregularities in the distribution of the planetesimals, tended to change the rate of rota- tion. Time does not permit me to give reasons for the conclusion that there was an equilibrium rate of rotation about which oscillation should have been an inherent tendency.? Now with every increase of acceleration there was depression and crowding at the poles, while there was bulging and tension at the equator, and between these rising and falling areas there was a neutral or fulcrum zone which neither rose nor fell, but under which a shift of matter took place from the depressed to the lifted side. With every retardation of rotation, there was the opposite effect. No portion of the earth was free from these influences. Just how the earth accommo- dated itself to these profound stresses is our problem. So far at least as the tensional alternative is concerned, there are many phenomena in nature that teach us how the easement is accomplished, and where the yield tracts lie. There are some which show us less simply and less unequivocally how relief from compression is effected. The most in- structive example is found in the cooling of lava into basaltic columns. From a study of these, it is seen that the required accommodation is effected by three parting planes diverging from the points of greatest tensional stress, at angles of about 120°. There is, of course, much vari- ation from this precise angle when the material is even moderately heterogeneous, for the action is but a mechanical accommodation of the 2 These are given in ‘‘The Origin of the Earth,’’ now in the hands of The University of Chicago Press. 546 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY - stresses, and has none of the precision observed in the formation of crystals. On the basis of this principle of action, it is assumed that a three- fold partition would obtain at each of the poles when under tensional stress, and that the yield tracts would extend to the fulcrum zones. The position of the two fulcrum zones would shift with the degree of oblateness, but they may be conveniently spoken of as lying not far from 30° latitude north and south. The segment so defined surficially would form only one half of the reciprocating unit. This, as seen on the sur- face, would have the form of a spherical triangle. The other half-unit that must cooperate with this one in reciprocal action, could be formed in the simplest and easiest way by similar yield lines crossing the equa- torial belt and converging to a point in the fulcrum zone of the opposite hemisphere. The reciprocating pairs would thus consist of similar tri- angles—at the surface—back to back, the one wholly in the rising area, the other wholly in the sinking area. Three such reciprocating pairs would then surround each pole. If one set took precedence, as would be natural, the other would be forced to alternate with it. The two sets would thus interlock across the equatorial belt. Each working pair of triangles would form a quadrilateral at the surface, and would extend to the center, where the six apexes would come together. The earth would thus be divided into six pyramidal sectors, symmetrically related to the axis of rotation, symmetrically related also to the stresses to which they must yield, and embodying a very simple mode of meeting the requisite changes of form. This concept of a hexafid earth has some resemblance in form to the factors of the tetrahedral earth of Green, but it starts from entirely different premises and is based on radically different con- siderations. The hexafid division is in no sense a crystalline process, but merely a mechanical adaptation to variations of stress imposed by the pervasive effects of changes of rotation. But no very close approach to perfect hexafid partition could prob- ably arise from stresses working on the complex texture of an accretional earth. Besides, certain definite tendencies to inequality of development appear to have arisen as the segmentation went on. There was the law of progressive dominance. Whenever in the course of growth, any di- vision came to preponderate in mass or density, this very preponderance gave advantage in the acquisitions that followed. Dominance not only tended to its own perpetuation but to the increase of its own preponder- ance. It naturally resulted that some of the sectors grew more than the others. The basins of the southern hemisphere seem to have taken pre- cedence of those of the northern, and the basins of the Pacific took pre- cedence over those antipodal to them. These two preponderances united to give a preponderant water hemisphere, with its center near New Zea- land, and a preponderant land hemisphere, with its center in south- western Europe. THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 547 There was also the law of alternation. When any pyramidal sector sank from superior weight, it crowded aside the adjacent sectors, and the belts of easement between them were squeezed in proportion as ad- jacent basins sank. And so depressions ‘and elevations alternate around the globe. There was also the law of opposites. Whenever any pyramidal sector sank by reason of superior weight, it favored reciprocal rise on the opposite side. So, as a matter of fact, depressions stand opposite to embossments about the globe. There was also probably an adjustment of the sectors relative to one another. Ideally, the sectors might stand point to point, but this is an unstable adjustment, and amid the inequalities and distortions that arose, the sectors would naturally be shifted in the direction of least resistance, so that the sinking heavy sector, on one side, would come to stand opposed to a yield tract on the antipodal side. And so basins should have come to be antipodal to protrusions, if not already so at the outset. In harmony with this, it may be observed that the North American embossment stands opposite the basin of the Indian Ocean, the Australasian embossment opposite the basin of the North Atlantic, the great east central basin of the Pacific opposite the great protuberance of Africa, the South Pacific opposite Asia in part, the Antarctic conti- nent opposite the Arctic basin, while the great oceanic sag around the Antarctic continent stands over against the great land belt in the high latitudes of the northern hemisphere. There are a multitude of interesting details and qualifications, and some incongruities, upon which it would be delightful to dwell were there time. In the very tentative and imperfect presentation of this doctrine which alone is possible here, let us content ourselves with the merest glance at certain salient illustrations of the suggested segmenta- tion of the earth. Starting with the hemisphere of heaviest segments and largest pres- ent increments—which therefore probably took precedence in action— the three oft-noticed poleward-pointing extremities of Africa, Australia and South America illustrate the three-fold division of the polar region, in fair harmony with the terms of our interpretation. Following the South American-axis northward to the vicinity of the fulcrum zone, the ideal scheme demands bifurcation and angulation. In harmony with this, marked structural features diverge to the northwest and northeast. The former strikes through the Isthmus of Panama, the states of Central America—with the Antilles as a duplicate line—and onward to the vicinity of the fulcrum zone of the northern hemisphere, where the dom- inant structural lines should turn in a second angulation, toward the north pole. This is partially realized, but is much obscured by super- imposed features that cannot here be discussed. 548 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY Turning back to the point of bifurcation in South America, “ the Backbone of Brazil” strikes northeasterly, and, save for the interruption of the constricted connection between the two Atlantics, is -continued in the structural lines of northwestern Africa to the critical zone of angulation on the borders of Africa and Europe. Turning back again to the south African axis, it is to be noted that, near the proper latitude for bifurcation, two ancient crystalline terranes diverge in lines nearly parallel to the borders of the continent, and ex- tend across the equatorial belt to about the assigned zone of angulation in the northern hemisphere, where converging deflections toward the north pole are encountered, noeeyy the west border of Europe and the Ural mountains. Both Australia and New Zealand have southern prolongations that seem to represent, in a duplicate way, the third meridional easement tract of the south polar regions. At about the assigned latitude, a broad strand of northwesterly trending structural lines run through the East Indies and connect Australasia with southeast Asia. The trend of this remarkable strand is continued to the latitude of the northern zone of angulation where a complex series of divergencies is encountered with a northerly and northeasterly trend. In perfect symmetry and completeness obtained, there should be three main yield tracts from the poles to the fulcrum zones not far from 30° Lat. N. and S., while between these there should be oblique trends. At the same time, the great continental embossments and the great abysmal basins of the two hemispheres should stand in alternate or offset positions relative to one another. These basal requirements of the interpretation should be rather distinctly discernible, though much obscured by outgrowths and distortions. The North Atlantic should be offset to the west relative to the South Atlantic, North America relative to South America, the North Pacific relative to the South Pacific, Asia relative to Australasia. These radical requirements are strikingly re- alized. North Africa and Europe are less strikingly offset relative to South Africa, but the tendency is marked. The obliquity of the trends in the equatorial belt is strikingly displayed in the East Indies, and in the West Indies and isthmian connections between the Americas. It is betrayed also in the trends of the singular physiographic features that affect the junction area of Africa, Asia and Europe. Time will not permit us to lapse into explanatory details. The scheme of interpretation only calls for the detection of a deeply buried embryonic framework on which other agencies have built the adult con- figurations of the globe, and on which they have imposed their own characteristics. THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 549 DYNAMIC ORGANIZATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE The working relations of the primary segmentation of the earth- body to the dynamic organization of the atmosphere, were close, both in causation and in effect. There were striking analogies between them. The broadest features of the atmospheric circulation are now, and prob- ably were in the earth’s juvenile stage, as simple as the broad features of rotational deformation. So too, the seccndary adjustments of the atmospheric circulation in the two hemispheres are now, and probably were from the outset, very similar to the secondary adjustments of the earth-body. All the significant features of this analogy can not even be mentioned. We can simply note that, over the great oceanic basins in the latitudes of the fulcrum zones, there are oval systems of circula- tion centering about the areas of high atmospheric pressure, which match, in a general way, the centers of high specific gravity in the basin sectors below. On the borders of these ovals, there are tracts of conflict and of high precipitation, corresponding to the disrupted adjustment tracts of the earth-body below. These gyratory systems and these tracts of precipitation influenced fundamentally the deposit of planet- esimal dust, and thus gave direction to the growth of the earth, while, at the same time, they themselves were profoundly influenced by the configuration of the earth-body, and by the waters gathered into its great basins. And so the three great factors, atmospheres, hydrosphere, and lithosphere, cooperated in building up and giving shape to the great features of the earth. It is obvious that whatever planetesimal material found lodgment on the lands was subjected to greater leaching than the portions that fell into the waters. It appears that the average specific gravity of the elements leached away must have been slightly higher than that of the portions left behind—in the form they would finally take after burial and metamorphism—so that the protuberances came to be formed of slightly lighter material than the basins, and hence, in deformative ac- tions, the basins took precedence in sinking and the continents were accommodated to this. This contributed to the permanency of the great features of the earth which, in turn, influenced the atmospheric cir- culation. We find then, in this mechanism, reasons for the observed lower specific gravity of the continents and the higher specific gravity of the sub-oceanic material. In this, also, lie reasons for the continuous main- tenance of the continents, and hence the perpetuation of continental life, as well as the reciprocal maintenance of shallow-water oceanic life. Some of the greatest generalizations of geology thus find inherent sup- port and adequate elucidation in the very origin and constitution of the continents and of the ocean basins, while in this inherited constitution 550 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY are found cogent reasons why these great features are, and should ever remain, protrusive and depressive, respectively. We are thus brought to conditions that are fundamental to the evo- lution of life on the earth. This fascinating theme I must leave to my successor. It is to be noted, however, that the physical evolution of the earth predetermined, in large measure, the lines along which the life evolution of the globe was compelled to proceed. When the great embossments and the deep basins had become deter- minate, and when the earth’s growth had been completed, there followed a long history of denudation of the land, of filling of land-girt basins, and of building of terraces about the borders of the lands. There were base-levelings and great transgressions of the seas, covering sometimes half the continents, but never, in the known history of the earth, wholly submerging them. Before complete submergence was reached, rejuven- ation intervened; the continents were re-elevated and the seas with- drawn by further sinking of their basins, and a new period of life evolu- tion ensued. The whole sea-history seems to have been a succession of encroachments followed by retreats, with correspondent expansions and restrictions of sea life, while the land areas were reciprocally reduced and expanded with corresponding restrictive and expansive evolutions of land life. Thus the familiar evolutions of the well-known history of the globe went forward controlled, in a profound way, by the hidden powers of renewal inbred in the early organization of the earth-body. The whole evolution was, at the same time, profoundly influenced by the constitution of the atmosphere and by climatic conditions. THE EVOLUTION OF THE ATMOSPHERE The evolution of the atmosphere under the older cosmogonic views took the form of a great decline from a vast primitive envelope through a long series of depletions, to the relatively emaciated conditions that obtain to-day, under this interpretation. All this is too familiar to need more than simple reference. The alternate view here entertained pic- tures the atmosphere as growing up from small beginnings and main- taining itself throughout the ages by alternate enrichment and depletion from within and without. A bare sketch of some of the least familiar of these tenets is all that can be given. The lower atmosphere is eminently collisional, each molecule collid- ing with other molecules with prodigious rapidity. This condition pre- vails upwards until the tenuity of the air becomes so great that mole- cules, bounding upward from encounters, find no other molecules in their path until gravity has had time to arrest them and draw them back toward the earth center. There are thus substituted vaulting leaps for to-and-fro motions. A fountain-like zone supervenes upon the the collisional atmosphere. ‘This krenal atmosphere is necessarily very re THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 551 attenuated, but the vaulting molecules do not entirely escape collision with one another. From these mid-vault collisions rebounds, more or less tangential to the earth, arise in a certain proportion of cases. Under the law of probabilities, a certain percentage of molecules thus rebounding have sufficient velocities to take orbital courses about the earth. When they have once entered upon these orbital courses, mole- cules may remain indefinitely in them, if not driven from them by some intervening agency. This introduces a distinctly new factor, for this permits accumulation to go on until this very accumulation checks it- self.. The logical series consists, therefore, in a vaulting ultra-atmos- phere, springing necessarily from the summit of the collisional atmos- phere, and, in turn, giving rise to an orbital atmosphere which must tend to accumulate until an equilibrium is reached, in which the orbital atmosphere gives back, or throws outward, as many molecules, in the long run, as it receives. Now a limit to the outward extent of the vaulting molecules and of the orbital molecules is found in the limits of the sphere of the earth’s control. The minimum radius of this, according to Moulton, is a mil- lion kilometers (620,000 miles), the maximum radius, a million and a half kilometers (930,000 miles). Under kinetic laws there seems no logical escape from the conclusion that a certain proportion of molecules vault to the limit of this sphere of control and beyond it, and that or- bital molecules occupy, in their extremely attenuated way, the whole of this sphere also. Those molecules that pass beyond this sphere enter the sphere of the control of the sun and are lost to the atmosphere of the earth. . Similar logic applies to the ultra-atmospheres of the sun whose sphere of control envelopes the earth. The sphere of control of the earth has been sweeping through the sphere of control of the sun throughout the entire history of the earth. As a result of these rela- tions, it is logically inferred that there has been a feeding in of molecules from the sun’s ultra-atmosphere, during the whole evolution of the earth, and that these exchanges have tended toward an equilibrium by which the scanter atmosphere, whichever it may happen to be at any stage, has been fattened by the richer atmosphere. Logically this rela- tion obtains to-day. If this interchange were solely dependent on mechanical action be- tween the molecules, its quantitative sufficiency might possibly be open to question, but this interchange is the basis for cooperative action by electric and magnetic agencies. The competency of these, while as yet undetermined, is very probably important. Electric and magnetic actions not only abet the mechanical distribution, but offer possible, if not probable, solutions of the grave problems that arise respecting a constitution of the early atmosphere snitable for the generation and 552 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY maintenance of terrestrial life. It is a notable fact that the actively combining molecules of the earth’s atmosphere belong to a special class which have a general tendency to bear a negative charge of electricity, among which the vitally essential element oxygen is chief. — FUNCTIONS OF OCEANIC CIRCULATION The superficial circulation of the oceans is a result of the winds, but the deep circulation appears to be the product, in part, of the differences in density of the sea water. At present, two great influences seem to be contesting for the mastery of the deep sea circulation, and, through such dominance, for the mastery of our coming climate. The dominant circulation is now controlled by the polar regions, especially by the Ant- arctic. The density of the sea water is there increased by low temper- ature and by some concentration of salts through freezing. With this higher specific gravity, the polar waters outweigh the warmer waters of the lower latitudes and descending flow along the ocean bottoms into the depths of the abysmal basins, rising ultimately in the equatorial tracts to depress the temperature there and to force the heated waters poleward. This deep-sea circulation is, without doubt, one of the ele- ments that perpetuate the semi-glacial conditions of our times. Over against this, is the work of evaporation in the arid tracts, notably the 30° belts. By such evaporation, the waters of the Mediterranean are dis- tinctly higher in specific gravity than those of the Atlantic and, as a result, the dense, though warm, saline water flows out through the Straits of Gibraltar into the Atlantic, spreading out in spatular form nearly across the North Atlantic, and descending to great depths. Sim- ilar dense waters flow out from the Red Sea, while under the great evaporating belts analogous condensations are taking place, the effects of which are felt to very notable depths. It is not known whether this increase of density in the warm tropical regions is gaining upon the density-effect of the polar regions or not. We must wait for future observations to decide how the battle is going. But it is clear that if the intensities of polar cold were mitigated, as in time they no doubt will be mitigated by the wearing down of the heights of the land and by the encroachments of the sea, there is reason to believe that the density which springs from evaporation in the low latitudes will gain the mastery over the polar water, and will sink to the bottom of the sea, filling the basins with warm water. This heated water creeping to the polar regions would carry warmth where now there is frigidity, a nat- ural water-heating system of a stupendous sort. This seems the most probable explanation of the extraordinary fact that throughout the larger portion of earth history, so far as we are able to decipher it, mild climates, even sub-tropical climates, have prevailed in high latitudes, notwithstanding the adversities of their long winter nights, so notably THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 553 devoid of heat from without. It seems probable that the conditions which favor the dominance of polar cold, at intervals, and the dominance of tropical warmth, in the longer periods between, is determined by the elevation and the configuration of the land, especially that in the polar regions. The present cold oceanic circulation is known to be dominated by the Antarctic Continent and perhaps sprang initially from the ge- ologically recent elevation of that continent. As it shall be cut away by the wear of the surface and the gnawing of the sea, its dominance will no doubt disappear and the dominance of tropical circulation take its place. Correlated with these temperature changes of the oceanic waters are atmospheric absorptions and interchanges of gaseous content of a vital nature upon which time forbids us to enter. Projecting these interpretations of the present oceanic junctions back through the geologic ages, they seem to imply successive alterna- tions of remarkable warmth in high latitudes and glacial cold in rela- tively low latitudes, and corresponding climatic stress effects on life evolution and life distribution. This system of interpretation assumes that the atmosphere has been maintained from the beginning of the earth’s mature history in a state of approximate equilibrium with the atmosphere of the sun; hence an es- sential uniformity in volume and in constitution have been preserved unbroken from the dawn of life to the present. At the same time, it is held that, subordinate to this essential uniformity and this equilibrium, there have been notable fluctuations in volume and in constitution, due to variations in feeding from the interior of the earth, variations of de- pletion by chemical interaction with the rocks, and variations in the degree of absorption into the hydrosphere. The atmosphere has been subject also to variations in the retention of solar heat—the essential factor in climate—due not only to variations in constitution, but to variations in the intensity of vertical circulation promoted by surface features. Out of combinations between this automatic regulation of the fundamental constitution of the atmosphere and the oscillations of ter- restrial conditions that arise in succession, spring, we think, the es- sential features of the evolution of the earth’s climate, so far as they are terrestrial at all. Thus far I have tried to emphasize the more fundamental of the dynamic agencies that seem to me to lie back of the physical evolution of the earth. Until the whole history of the earth, early and late, shall be worked out into an accepted interpretation, the reasons for the inter- pretations we entertain are quite as vital as the interpretations them- selves. The breadth of the theme has made imperative a most cruel and partial selection. I think I may assure myself that no one else will fully justify the partiality of the selections I have made. It has VOL. 11.—38. 554 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY seemed to me, however, ‘more vital to dwell upon the genetic and the fundamental, than upon the more declared features of the record. These are better deployed, relatively, in the literature of the earth-sciences, and are accessible in our ampler texts. They are the common ground on which we all unite, with more or less complete unanimity. In a closing sketch of the accepted eras of the earth’s adult history, it will be possible to touch only on a few high points. Our scant selec- tion can be justified only by frankly affirming that there are other high points quite as worthy of emphasis. GREAT ERAS oF HartH HISTORY The lowest accessible record is found in a great complex of crystal- line rocks whose metamorphism has somewhat obscured their original state. An essential portion of the complex terrane is the work of its own time; the rest was intruded at later dates. The primitive portion carries clear evidences that it was formed at the surface by sedimentary processes, eolian, aqueous, igneous, or pyroclastic. But this portion has been so much intruded, or traversed, by lavas escaping the pressures of the interior, that this immigrant factor obscures and, in some degree, masks the prior sedimentary element. It is to be noted, however, that all subsequent effusions of lava traversed this basal series, and so added to its complexity, and that it was affected also by all the later deform- ative actions. None the less, eruptive action seems to have been more prevalent in these Archean ages than in those that followed. In its earliest adult stage, the fires of youth seem yet to have been specially active, and the master events seem to have centered about igneous and metamorphic action—but it would be a serious error to overlook the vital contribution that the atmosphere and the hydrosphere cast into this, the earliest of the accessible lithographic records. There are signs of life, but they reveal little of its nature. There followed this basement complex, a series of great terranes in which the dominant elements were more declaredly the products of aerial decomposition and of aqueous erosion, assortment, transportation, and deposition, though here the igneous factor cast in a very notable con- tribution also. There are left few identifiable relics of life, but there is abundant evidence of organic action. Between this Proterozoic group and the underlying Archean, lies a great unconformity, and within the group itself there lie scarcely less great unconformities, all of which imply that great movements intervened between times of relative quies- cence, a feature that ran through all subsequent history. Even in this early age, there are signs of glaciation in mid-latitudes and apparently at moderate elevations (Coleman), a feature of vital significance in the interpretation of the climatic history of the earth. Following another great interval, marked by unconformity, the THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 555 Paleozoic Era was ushered in, and with it the first good record of the specific forms of life. The feature of supreme interest, the first good record of life, falls to the lot of my successor, who will give its inter- pretation and sketch the subsequent life evolution. During the Paleo- zoic Era there was a series of relatively quiescent periods during which the joint forces of the atmosphere and the hydrosphere made great prog- ress in cutting away the protuberances of the continents and depositing the débris in great sub-sea terraces about the continental borders and in the infra-continental basins, thus partially base-leveling the land, and partially filling the basins, so that the ocean waters crept forth on the borders of the land and seemed to threaten complete submergence. But rarely was more than half the continent conquered before internal stres- ses had accumulated in sufficient force to bring on another epoch of deformation and continental protrusion, pushing up the land and push- ing back the sea, restoring in a measure the old status and preparing the ~ way for a new sea-transgression. After some half dozen periods of such oscillation, a more marked series of deformative movements ensued, with a more pronounced rejuvenation of the land. With this came also the most remarkable of all known glaciations. Mantles of ice gathered on lands near the circles of Cancer and Capricorn and left distinctive rec- ords which, however seemingly incredible, are incontestible. To add to the seeming strangeness, the evidence clearly points to low altitudes of the land and to the descent of the land-ice into the waters of the sea which bore icebergs to long distances and formed extensive glacio-natent deposits. That the great deformative action had some genetic relation to this remarkable climatic episode, seems eminently probable, but it does not seem to have accomplished this directly by the elevation of the sites of glaciation. These remarkable events ushered in the Middle Ages of geology— as much a misnomer as the Middle Ages of human history—the early stages of which seem to have witnessed the greatest extension of land, and apparently the greatest general aridity of climate, known to geolog- ical history. But, in time, the persistent gnawings of the atmosphere and the hydrosphere—geologic twins in never-ceasing activity—cut down the great embossments and permitted the sea to transgress the land repeatedly before the Mesozoic Era closed. But, as ever before, the land persisted and was periodically renewed. After fewer oscilla- tions than in the Paleozoic Era, another notable epoch of diastrophism intervened, and the Cenozoic Era was inaugurated. Glaciation seems to have recurred in mid-latitudes (Atwood), but the evidence is as yet less ample than in the preceding transition. After a shorter succession of base-levelings and sea advances, sep- arated by minor rejuvenations of the land, there came the recent great series of deformations which gave rise to the present great folded moun- 556 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY tains, the present great plateaus, and the special configurations which the continents and oceans now bear, save in relatively trivial details. Close on the heels of this great diastrophic epoch came on the last great glaciation in mid-latitudes. At that time, ice-sheets crept down on the American plains to the Ohio and Missouri rivers, and over the northern plains of Europe, while in the southern hemisphere and on mountain heights, even in the tropics, there were signs of a general depression of temperature. There were repeated advances of the ice-sheets, separated by milder intervals during which retreats took place, showing, even in such episodes, the tenacity of the principle of oscillation in terrestrial ongoings. It is only recently, geologically speaking, that the ice-sheets have retreated from the lands where half the civilized world now lives. Glaciers linger in the polar fields and on the mountain heights. The deep sea is still icy cold. The contrasts of climate are sharp. We seem to be yet in the cold segment of the climatic cycle. Whether we are about to emerge into a period of typical mildness, or are yet to suffer a recurrence of the ice invasions, is a geologic detail beyond safe proph- ecy, but that such emergence is to follow, sooner or later, seems assured by the long history of oscillations of the past and the persistence of re- covery that seems to be firmly based on the automatic regulation of the atmosphere and of climate inbred in the very constitution of the earth. THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 557 PROBLEMS ASSOCIATED WITH THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS. III By Proressor W. M. DAVIS, HARVARD UNIVERSITY Upgrowing Reefs in a Rising Ocean.—Are we then to regard Dar- win’s theory of subsidence as completely established? Not yet, for there are two alternative theories that have not been mentioned. It has al- ready been pointed out that all the visible features of sea-level reefs themselves, apart from the neighboring volcanic islands, can be equally well explained by any one of some eight or nine hypotheses, provided that the postulates of the hypotheses are accepted; and that appeal must therefore be made to some associated problem in order to find a crucial test by which the true theory can be selected. Let it now be recognized that all the features of barrier reefs and of their embayed central islands also, which according to Darwin’s theory are explained by the subsidence of the reef foundation beneath a stationary ocean surface, can be equally well explained by supposing the ocean surface to rise over a stationary reef foundation, as in Fig. 30. It is only by appeal to cer- tain rather recondite associated problems regarding the rest of the world that this second possibility can be excluded, and the first fully justified. In discussing this aspect of the problem we must recall at the outset that an adequate theory of coral reefs has to account, not only for the last touches given to existing sea-level reefs, but also for their relatively remote beginning; that it has to explain not only sea-level reefs, but also elevated reefs, formed in an earlier epoch and now standing hun dreds of feet above sea-level; that it has to provide reasonable conditions for the great submergence indicated by the deep embayments of Ka- nda-vu, Tahaa, and many other islands; that it has to account for the occurrence of small remnants of large volcanic islands within large reefs; and that it has to explain the heavy limestones in such uplifted atolls as are found in the Loyalty islands and elsewhere, as well as the thin terracing reefs that are uplifted in the New Hebrides. In short, an adequate theory of coral reefs involves great and small terrestrial changes such as will cause great and small submergences and emer- gences at different dates in the later ages of the earth’s history. If we account for all such changes, not by local subsidence of the reef founda- tions, but by changes of the sea surface caused by deformation of some 558 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY other parts of the sea floor, we must postulate repeated crustal move- ments of so enormous a measure that they become improbable to the point of incredibility ; for it must be remembered that whenever the sea surface is to be raised 1,000 feet by upheaval of a part, such as a tenth, of the sea floor, that part must be upheaved at least 10,000 feet; and more than 10,000 if, as is very probable, its upheaval is accompanied by a contemporaneous depression of some neighboring part. It is therefore consistent with terrestrial economics to account for the great submer- gence which coral reefs demand by subsidence of the needed amount in the area where and at the time when the reefs are formed. Furthermore, if the submergence indicated by coral reefs and their associated islands be explained. by a rise of sea level, let it be remem- bered that this requires the submergence to be everywhere—on all con- tinents and all islands—the same in rate, date, and amount, except where local crustal movements introduce variety into its measure. In view of the apparent variety in the date and amount of submergence by which existing embayments of insular and continental shorelines have been formed, the appeal to local movements as a cause of the variety may be so frequent that such movements will become the domi- nant control of submergence, each in its own region. Indeed the ex- planation of all coral reefs by a rise of sea level recalls the explanation given by Suess, about thirty years ago, for all high-standing atolls by a general depression of sea level; as soon as the diversity in the alti- tude of such atolls is recognized, their position must of course be ex- plained by diversity of crustal movement rather than by a uniform change of sea level: so, I believe, when the submerged embayments of the world’s coast lines in coral-reef regions and elsewhere are attentively examined, and when the emerged coastal plains of certain continental borders are closely studied, many diversities in the rate, date, and amount of their submergence or emergence will be discovered. Such diversity will then be best explained by local crustal movements, and world-wide changes of sea level will be given relatively small values. But let me state explicitly that it would be highly illogical to exclude so manifestly possible a factor as a universal change of sea level from all share in submerging shoreline embayments or in laying bare strips of coastal plains; it is because any change in sea level must be smaller than the uplift or depression of the sea floor which causes the change in the same proportion that the uplifted or depressed area is smaller than the total ocean area, and because the sea integrates all the positive and negative changes which various local movements tend to produce in its surface level, that it seems most reasonable to explain regional sub- mergence, long continued in time and great in amount, such as that involved in the origin of many coral reefs, chiefly by subsidence in the region and at the time concerned. THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 559 The Glacial-Control Theory of Coral Reefs.—There is one phase of the theory of a rising ocean, pointed out by several writers in the last thirty or forty years and lately discussed more fully by another, that demands further examination. This is the idea that the drowned-val- ley embayments, which we have been taking as signs of subsidence, have been submerged by the rise of the ocean surface as the water, which was abstracted to form the continental ice sheets of the Glacial period, was returned to the ocean when the ice sheets were melted in the milder climate of Postglacial time. This in its fully developed form has been called the Glacial-control theory, and its discussion evidently involves many associated problems besides those already mentioned. Its essential postulates and processes are as follows: Coral-reef flats are supposed to have been formed around or upon still-standing founda- tions in Preglacial time, hence presumably for the most part by out- growth; the ancestors of atolls, now the commonest kind of reefs, were formed around volcanic islands that:had stood still long enough to be worn down by subaerial erosion nearly to sea level or by marine abrasion a little lower; the ancestors of barrier reefs were similarly formed around islands that are not old enough to have been worn down; lagoons were shallow or wanting, because solution is not an adequate cause for them. As the Glacial period came on, the surface of the ocean was lowered by the imprisonment of a large volume of water as ice on the lands; it has been calculated that the lowering of the entire ocean thus caused was between 200 and 300 feet. The ocean was then chilled as well as low- ered, and thereby the corals of most reefs were killed. The waves of the lowered sea attacked the undefended flanks of the dead reefs and cut them back in flat platforms. Next when the climate became milder and the ocean surface rose again, reefs were reestablished and grew up- wards on the platform edges of the earlier reef flats, and thus the barrier and atoll reefs of to-day have been built up around the lagoons that they enclose. It thus appears that the Glacial-control theory accounts only for the reef rims and the lagoons of atolls and barriers, and that the great undermass of the reefs is explained according to the theory of outgrowing reefs on still-standing foundations, but without the action of solution in the excavation of the lagoon. All the causes here mentioned appear to be true in quality, but their quantitative value is uncertain. The oceans must have been lowered and cooled during the Glacial period, but no one knows how much. The corals of reefs that had grown in Preglacial time on the northern and southern borders of the coral zone, as around the Hawaiian islands, were presumably killed; but it is impossible to say, a priori, whether the corals were killed through the middle of the torrid coral zone as well. Dead reefs must have been attacked by the sea below their crown, but who can say how far they were cut away? Live reefs would not 560 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY have been cut away. Additional factors are introduced by the complex- ity of the Glacial period, for it includes several Glacial epochs of differ- ent intensities separated by Interglacial epochs of different durations ; and no one yet knows how to date the history of coral-reef islands in terms of Glacial chronology. The quantities involved in the Glacial- control theory are therefore of uncertain value. Uncertainties of the Glacial-Control Theory.—There are two other groups of uncertainties in the Glacial-control theory, as it has thus far been set forth. The first arises from the improbable nature of one of its fundamental postulates; the second, from the over-long series of de- ductive steps——not always sharply defined—for which no sufficient veri- fication has been provided by confronting them with observable facts. The improbable fundamental postulate is that the ocean bottom did not subside in the coral-reef region for a long period of Preglacial and Glacial time. No reasons are offered in support of this singular assump- tion; yet it is held to be so true that ancient volcanic islands, possibly formed as long ago as in Paleozoic time, are believed to have suffered flat truncation by erosion and abrasion, down to or a little below sea level, and that the flat surface of truncation remained close to sea level, without subsidence, until the Glacial period! Is it not venturesome to give subsidence the special value of zero for so long a time in the coral- reef region of an ocean, the bottom of which has suffered repeated eleva- tions, as shown by uplifted coral reefs, and has suffered, in its Australa- sian area, demonstrable deformation, with many ups and downs, as shown by the isolated remains of former continental lands? And is it really necessary to make subsidence zero for a long time and over a large area in a theory in which the occurrence of subsidence now and again at a slow rate or by starts and stops is not at all incompatible with the various processes of Glacial control, even though it would affect the value of their results? Yet as stated by the latest expositor of the Glacial- control theory, this unnecessary and venturesome postulate is practically insisted upon, and the theory is therein made to resemble the several other theories that arbitrarily postulate still-standing islands, and thus place themselves in opposition to Darwin’s more general theory of sub- sidence: “more general,” because subsidence can have all grades of value from its maximum down to zero, and because prevailing subsidence may be interrupted by still-stand pauses or even temporarily reversed into uplift, as Darwin clearly stated; but still-stand theories are based on a rigidly fixed postulate of immobility, as far as subsidence is con- cerned. Among the unverified deductive steps in the Glacial-control theory, we may note in particular the Preglacial truncation of numerous still- standing volcanic islands at sea level or a little lower; the Preglacial formation of numerous marginal reefs by outward growth on an ad- THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 561 vancing talus of coral débris around still-standing truncated flats or shoals; the reduction of ocean-surface temperature in the coral zone during the Glacial period sufficiently to kill the corals of nearly all reefs ; the complete abrasion of even the broadest atolls during the lowered sea- stands of the Glacial period; the uncomformable upgrowth of new atoll reefs on the abraded platform of low Preglacial islands as the sea rises; and again, the Preglacial formation of outgrowing encircling reefs around younger, mountainous, still-standing, non-embayed volcanic islands; the reduction of these reefs to platforms by abrasion during the lowered sea-stands, but without significant encroachment upon their central islands; the erosion of the deeper parts of the central-island valleys, now drowned in embayments, during the lower sea-stands of the Glacial period, but to no greater depth than the level of the lowered sea; the sufficient widening of the deepened valleys by the slow process of valley-side weathering during the lowered sea-stands, so that, when drowned, the valleys shall contain the well-opened embayments now visible; and the unconformable upgrowth of new barrier reefs on the abraded platforms with the rise of the sea. No sufficient verification is provided for this elaborate series of de- ductions. Not a single example of a truncated volcano is known in the coral seas. Not a single example of a recently uplifted atoll is known to have an abraded volcanic area in the center of its lagoon-plain. Not a single example of an uplifted atoll is known to consist in its underpart of the steeply inclined talus layers composed chiefly of coral débris, such as must here be supposed for the great undermass. Not a single example of a recently uplifted atoll or barrier reef is known in which the reef wall stands unconformably on a flat platform abraded across a series of slanting talus layers largely formed of coral débris, as must be the case under the Glacial-control theory. True, an attempted verification of the abrasion of Preglacial atolls during the lowered sea- stands: of the Glacial period has been offered in a table of the depths of atoll lagoons ; but the measures of depth show no such accordance as the theory demands. The maximum depths of the lagoons vary through a large fraction of the supposed depth of the abraded platform; the mean depth of the deeper parts shows a similar variation. Such inconstancy of lagoon depth can be explained only by supposing that the atoll plat- forms were abraded at various levels, for which no good reason is as- signed; or by supposing that the platforms, after being abraded at a uniform depth, have been irregularly covered by Postglacial lagoon de- posits. The latter supposition isextremely probable, as far as the occur- rence of lagoon deposits is concerned; but if accepted it leaves the plat- forms without verification. It may be truly said, in reply to this and the preceding paragraph, that all theories of coral reefs, the subsidence theory as well as the rest, involve unverified deductions; but as far as I 562 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY can see, the subsidence theory is less deficient in this respect than any other. In view of the insufficient attention that, as thus appears, has been addressed to the matter of confrontation and verification in the Glacial control theory, in the form in which it has thus far been set forth, it seems desirable to give closer examination to that phase of the problem; not with the intention of making up the deficiencies in the statements of its expositors, for that is their own affair; but with the wish of find- ing for oneself definite grounds which shall warrant a decision in favor of the theory or against it; for it is the duty of every investigator to make himself personally responsible for the critical discussion of every theory that has been offered in solution of his problem; he must not Fic. 30. BLock DraGRAM or A STILL-STANDING VOLCANIC ISLAND IN A RISING OcrAN. In the narrow foreground block, the island has a simple shore line with a discontinuous fringing reef; in the middle block, the rising ocean has half-submerged the island, giving it an elaborately embayed shore line, and the fringing reef has developed into a barrier reef by up-growth; in the background block, the rising ocean has almost submerged the central island, and the barrier reef has almost become an atoll. The first up-growth of the fringing reef, as shown on the front face of the middle block, is drawn nearly vertical, because the amount of waste taken from it to form its short external talus was then small: the effect of a pause in the rise of the ocean is shown in the horizontal out-growth at mid-height in this section. The later up-growth of the barrier reef, as shown on the front face of the background block, is drawn inclining inward, because a large amount of reef waste is needed to form the greatly prolonged talus, which now begins at a greater height and must extend down nearer the base of the volcanic cone. Compare this figure with Fig. 16. throw off that responsibility, or leave it wholly to the inventors of other theories than the one to which his judgment inclines. The first step to be taken in meeting this responsibility with regard to the Glacial-control theory is to define more sharply certain consequences to which it leads; and in doing so it might be well, as above intimated, to give special attention to reefs near the border of the coral-reef zone; but as the THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 563 only reefs so located that I visited were on Oahu in Hawaii and along the coast of Queensland in Australia, this method of testing the theory will not be pursued for the present. The reefs of the torrid zone, of which I saw more abundant examples, will be examined instead; and for this purpose several tentative assumptions will be made, from each of which certain essential consequences will be deduced, in order to con- front them with the facts. Special Consequences of the Glacial-Control Theory.—For example, sector HZ, Fig. 31, represents a rather narrow Preglacial reef plain, > fw Mike Fic. 31, DIAGRAM OF SUCCESSIVE STAGES OF REEF FORMATION, as deduced from the Glacial-control theory, on the supposition of a relatively short period of lowered ocean level. with no lagoon, bordering a dissected, still-standing volcanic island of non-embayed shoreline and salient deltas. In sector Ff’, we see the abraded platform cut by the waves of a lowered and chilled ocean, which did not, however, work long enough to becliff the volcanic island; and also a young valley incised with reference to the lowered sea level in the floor of a Preglacial valley. In sector G, the sea has risen and warmed, a barrier reef has been built up enclosing a lagoon, and the young val- ley is embayed. A detailed consequence of these changes is an “ edge” where the steep walls of the young valley cut the gentler side-slopes of the Preglacial valley; this edge ought to begin close to sea level on either side of the new embayment near the former margin of the island, and gradually ascend inland beyond the embayment to the head of the young valley. No such edges, no such “ valley-in-valley” forms were found in any one of the hundreds of partly drowned valleys that I saw in the Pacific ; hence a second assumption must be tried. Sector £, Fig. 32, shows the Preglacial condition again; sector #’ represents the work accomplished during a longer time of lowered sea level than before, a time long enough to allow the widening of the new-cut valleys so that 564 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY all trace of the Preglacial valleys should vanish, even to their heads; but in so long a time as that, the sea would surely cut away not only all the Preglacial reef-plain, but part of the volcanic island as well; then, after the sea rises as in sector G, the spur ends between the wide embayments should be truncated, and the steep faces of their cliffs would plunge below sea-level. Cliffs of this kind ought to be specially well developed around the younger volcanic islands, which in Preglacial times had only narrow fringing reefs or no reefs. But spur-end cliffs do not occur on such islands: hence the corals of their reefs cannot have been killed. Perhaps the drowned spur-end cliffs of Tahiti, figured above, are the work of abrasion during the low- ered sea-stands of the Glacial period; but if they are, Tahiti is of so ex- . ma Se ces: es = Sunes ~. ON -- ——-. < RST H = SS Rol ~ ~~ bre xm - SSS WSS G a Fic. 32. DIAGRAM OF SUCCESSIVE STAGES OF REEF FORMATION, as deduced from the glacial-control theory, on the supposition of a relatively long period of lowered ocean level. See ceptional a form in this respect that its cliffs prove too much for other islands. The spur ends in the other members of the Society group and elsewhere are as a rule not cut off in cliffs; or if a little becliffed, a shallow platform extends forward from the cliff base, showing that the cliff has been recently cut at present sea level. Hence in order to ex- plain the prevalently tapering forms of non-cliffed or little cliffed spurs, it must be supposed that the corals of their enclosing reefs were not killed while the sea was lowered, and thus an essential half of the Glacial-control theory, as it has been recently propounded, is excluded. However, even if the corals were not killed and the reefs were not cut away, the valleys of the central islands must have been deepened while their streams ran down to a lowered sea level. But is it reason- able to suppose that the lowered sea level of the Glacial period en- THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 565 dured long enough to allow not alone the incision of narrow valleys by small streams, but also the widening of the valleys by slow weathering to the observed width of the actual embayments, some of which are one or two miles across? The simplest test I have found for this question lies in a comparison of the drowned-valley embayments of the volcanic islands in the Pacific with the valleys of certain dissected volcanoes in central France. According to French observers, those volcanoes are of Preglacial origin, and they have suffered glaciation more than once; but their valleys, even where enlarged by glacial erosion, have not con- sumed so much of their initial form as has been consumed in the em- bayments of Tahaa or of Borabora in the Society group, or of Ka-nda-vu in the Fiji group, or of Rarotonga in the Cook group, or of Oahu in Hawaii; nor so much as has been consumed in the embayments of New Caledonia or of Queensland, which consist of continental, not of vol- canic rocks. The valleys of the embayments in these islands are too wide to have been cut during so relatively short a time as the Glacial period; hence I am driven to think that the processes of the Glacial-con- trol theory, acting alone, are incompetent to produce the observed re- sults. Nevertheless the level of the sea must have been lowered during each epoch of the Glacial period, and must have risen in each Inter- glacial epoch as well as in the present Postglacial epoch. How can these undeniable changes be best included in a general theory of coral reefs ? Combination of Subsidence and Glacial Control—The element of the Glacial-control theory which seems to me least reasonable is the postulate of still-standing reef foundations. Fortunately that pos- tulate is unessential. Let us therefore see whether the Glacial-con- trol processes and the subsidence processes cannot work harmoniously Fic. 33. DIAGRAM oF SuccESSIvE STAGES OF REpF FORMATION, as deduced from a combination of the glacial-control theory with Darwin’s theory of up-growth during subsidence. together. Sector H, Fig. 33, represents a barrier reef developed during Preglacial subsidence in a region where Glacial cooling, when it comes, 566 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY shall not be sufficient to kill the corals. Sector J shows the effect of continued subsidence without upgrowth in an unchanging ocean. Sec- tor K shows the effect of neutralizing subsidence by the contemporane- ous lowering of the ocean surface as the ocean water is withdrawn to form continental ice sheets; that is, if the island sinks at about the rate that the ocean is lowered, a relative still-stand is the result for the time being; and during a long enough still-stand a broad and mature reef plain will be developed by the outgrowth of the reef itself, by the in- wash of its waste, and by the forward growth of deltas which will fill the former embayments and advance into the lagoon, as in Sector K. Now if subsidence continue during a maximum of glaciation, a critical ° condition will be reached when the ice sheets begin to melt and the ocean begins to rise, as in sector L, for the joint effect of ocean rise and subsidence will be a doubly rapid submergence, sector M, as a result of which the upgrowth of the reef may not keep pace with the rise of sea level, and the reef may become discontinuous; its renewed growth may even be stopped if it is “drowned” by too rapid submergence. Perhaps the discontinuity of certain reefs that rise, as has recently been pointed out, from submerged platforms, but not necessarily on their outer edge, may be explained in this way. In any case, I believe that some combination of regional subsidence with Glacial changes of sea level—or with changes of sea level caused by movements of the sea bottom—is worthy of careful consideration as being probably nearer the truth than either process taken alone: but of the several processes, subsidence in the coral-reef areas seems to me to have acted through a longer time and to have played by far the greater part in the develop- ment of coral reefs. Other Hypotheses Regarding Coral Reefs——Various other hypoth- eses have been proposed to account for coral reefs. Some of the early explorers explained reefs as determined by the instinct of the “coral insects”; others regarded them as built upon the rims of submarine craters; one long-practised student of the problem in more recent years suggested that an extensive system of barrier reefs near one of the larger Fiji islands may have grown up, independently of subsidence, from submarine lava flows; an observer in Samoa suggested that certain reefs in that island group have been determined by submarine hot springs; a widely experienced traveller in the Pacific suggested that many atoll-reefs are of small thickness, formed around uplifted and worn-down limestone masses of unexplained origin; a less experienced observer accounts for the outline of atolls largely by the action of wind- driven waves. These suggestions all represent conceivable possibilities ; but they are not supported by sufficient evidence to show that they cor- respond to geological realities. The first of the six hypotheses is only a relic of an earlier philosophy; the second was generally accepted THE STUDY OF CORAL RDEFS 567 till Darwin showed its impossibility; the third entirely overlooks the shore-line evidence of strong submergence following submature dissec- tion; the fourth hypothesis makes the gratuitous assumption that sub- marine hot springs exist in requisite number and position; the fifth hypothesis includes no adequate explanation of the assumed limestone masses, although, where little dissected remnants of such masses are found, they have every appearance of being atolls of an earlier date; the sixth hypothesis exaggerates the action of a true cause, for it over- looks the usually concentric arrangement of central islands within their barrier reefs, as shown in Fig. 19; this arrangement demonstrates the action of winds and waves to be of secondary importance in determining reef outlines. Need these hypotheses be further considered ? Conclusion.—To what conclusion is an inquirer led by this study of coral reefs? At least to the certain conclusion that the origin of coral reefs, like the origin of many other geological features, is not susceptible of absolute demonstration. All that can be hoped for in problems re- lating to the past origin of present features, such as synclinal ridges in mountains of folded structure, hanging lateral valleys in formerly glaciated mountains, “faulted” strata, “metamorphosed” rocks, and coral reefs, is a highly probable explanation. It is true that geologists are accustomed to regard various highly probable explanations as hav- ing the same order of verity as directly observed facts: for who doubts that faulted strata, for example, have been displaced from their original continuity, or that fossils are of organic origin? Nevertheless, these universally accepted conclusions are nothing more than highly probable inferences. Why, then, are they universally accepted? Because the experience of many geologists through many years in many places gives every reason to accept them as correct, and as yet no reason to reject them. No theory of coral reefs at present reaches so high a degree of probable correctness as to be universally accepted. It is true that most geologists of fifty or sixty years ago thought the coral-reef problem was fully explained by Darwin’s theory of upgrowth during subsidence; but geological thought at that time was not so critical as it is now regard- ing the acceptance of hypotheses; and moreover the problem of coral reefs had not then been enriched by the invention of several alternative hypotheses. There was at that time practically only one theory of coral reefs before geologists worthy of consideration ; it explained the things that it had been invented to explain, and that was deemed sufficient to en- sure its correctness and to warrant its acceptance. In the last thirty-five years certain additional theories of coral reefs have been brought forward, all the theories have been subjected to closer scrutiny than before, and one or another of them has been accepted with more or less confidence by a less or greater number of geologists; but the majority of geologists, 568 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY disconcerted from the confident belief in Darwin’s theory of subsidence that formerly prevailed, and demanding strong evidence before they accept any one of the several current theories, now have no definite views in the matter: they learn that the problem is “ unsettled”; they have no opportunity of studying coral reefs themselves, and as a rule not time or inclination enough to make a close study of the work of those who have studied coral reefs. Such is the uncertain condition of the problem to-day. In view of this and as a summary of the fuller dis- cussion on the preceding pages, the present writer offers the following statement of his own opinion regarding the several current theories as the result of much reading, observation, discussion and reflection during the past two years. The origin of barrier reefs and atolls on still-standing islands more or less completely truncated by marine abrasion is contradicted by the features of the islands within barrier reefs and by the structure of up- lifted reefs. The resurrection of this theory in recent years, after it had been shown by Darwin over 70 years ago to be incompetent as an explanation of barrier reefs, has not advanced the solution of the coral- reef problem. The origin of atolls by upward and outward growth on still-standing submarine foundations capped with pelagic deposits is a manifest possi- bility, but it is not confirmed by any independent evidence. The theory is unfortunately limited by the unnecessary postulate of still-standing foundations. If this limitation be relaxed, and if, in view of the common occurrence of uplifted reefs in various parts of the Pacific, uplift is sup- posed to take place at a rate a little faster than the downward erosion of the uplifted mass and a little slower than the outward growth of the fringing reef, a conical coral island would result; the cone would be terraced if the uplift were intermittent; as erosion progressed, a vol- canic nucleus would be disclosed. No such conical coral islands are known; hence uplift at the rate here suggested cannot have been com- monly associated with the formation of atolls. But uplifted and little dissected atolls occur not infrequently as tabular islands; they show that rapid uplift sometimes occurs after the construction of an atoll is well advanced. Uplift therefore seems, when it acts, to be a more effective process than upbuilding. If, on the other hand, in view of abundant evidence of subsidence that is found especially in the western part of the Pacific coral- reef area, intermittent subsidence is considered in association with the up- and out-growth theory of atolls, then this theory merges into Darwin’s theory. If both uplift and subsidence are considered, it is evident that uplift is most favorable in the early stages and subsidence in the later stages of the process; for subsidence in the early stages would as a rule prevent the effective upbuilding of a submarine summit THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 569 by a pelagic capping, and uplift in the later stages would prevent the formation of normal atolls. Since normal atolls are to be counted by scores or hundreds, it seems, when all reasonable factors in their for- mation are considered, extremely improbable that many of them have been formed on submarine volcanoes that grew by eruption near enough the surface to be further built up to the coral limit by a pelagic capping, but did not grow by eruption above the ocean surface sufficiently to form enduring islands, and that, after their eruptive building had ceased, always stood still and never subsided. Indeed it would require extraordinary unanimity among pelagic volcanoes, in an ocean in which recent and subrecent eruptions are so numerous and in which signs of recent uplift and subsidence are so widespread and abundant, to build up a series of lofty cones from the deep ocean bottom, scores of which should approach close to the surface in regions now occupied by atolls, but none of which should form islands originally large enough to be still visible although much worn down, and none of which should suffer elevation or depression ! If more facts were known about atoll structures, some of the sup- posed possibilities above noted might be excluded ; but as long as obser- vation is limited to the surface reefs of atoll rings, their origin must remain a matter of speculation. Yet in view of what is known of other coral islands, the most reasonable result of speculation today must in- clude subsidence as a factor in the making of many or most atolls. The outgrowth of barrier reefs around still-standing islands, the excavation of their lagoons by solution, and the conversion of the bar- riers into atolls by the erosion and abrasion of their central islands is easily conceivable; but observation shows that lagoons are the seat of deposition, not of solution; no example of the almost-atoll stage, in which the central island of a barrier reef is reduced to a lowland with an alluvial rim, is known. The rigid fundamental postulate of still- standing reef foundations is contradicted by abundant evidence of changes of level, by the structure of certain uplifted reefs, and by the eroded surface of the volcanic or other rocks on which uplifted reefs rest. If the rigidity of this postulate is relaxed, and subsidence is al- lowed as demanded by various lines of evidence, a lagoon will be formed without the aid of solution, and the still-stand theory will be transformed into Darwin’s theory. The modification of the theory of outgrowth on still-standing foun- dations by the processes of the Glacial-control theory appears to be based on true factors, but unfortunately the quantitative value of these fac- tors is unknown. The theory is ingeniously developed through a long series of deduced consequences, but it is arbitrarily limited by the un- essential postulate of still-standing reef-foundations in the coral-reef region during a long period of time, and many of its consequences are, VOL. II1.—39. 570 THH SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY as above noted, not confirmed by observation. The moderate abrasion of narrow-lagoon barrier reefs is, I believe, incompatible with the broad abrasion of large atolls; hence the corals of most reefs were not killed in the Glacial period. Many now-embayed valleys in barrier-reef islands are, as well as I can estimate, too wide to have been eroded during the Glacial period; hence their erosion must have been well begun at an earlier date when the islands stood at a greater altitude, from which they have since subsided. Thus the Glacial-control theory appears inade- quate. If the unessential postulate of still-standing islands is omitted from the theory and the processes of Glacial-control are combined with those of Darwin’s theory, as they well may be, the combination is a helpful one, especially along the margins of the coral zone. It has been pointed out that-all the consequences of Darwin’s theory of upgrowth during subsidence may be accounted for by a contrasted theory, in which subsiding islands in an unchanging ocean are replaced by fixed islands in a rising ocean. It is entirely possible, nay, highly probable, that such replacement may have sometimes occurred ; but it is extremely improbable that the replacement should be complete, for the following reasons. A moderate rise of ocean level over fixed coral-reef islands demands a great rise of a small part of the ocean bottom, or a moderate rise of a great part of the ocean bottom, always excepting the part where the fixed coral-reef islands stand; it demands also various movements of such other islands and continental borders as do not suffer submergence equally with the still-standing coral-reef islands: hence if the rising-ocean theory is to explain all coral reefs, it must demand that much or most of the earth’s crust shall long be mobile, while the crust beneath the coral-reef islands must as long remain fixed. Such a de- mand is too absurd to be accepted. Moreover, if the rest of the earth’s crust is so mobile, part of the ocean bottom outside of the fixed coral-reef region may sometimes sink, and the consequent lowering of the ocean’s surface would be universally unfavorable to reef formation. Hence the rising-ocean theory can not be accepted as accounting for all coral reefs, and the part that it has played in accounting for any part of them must long remain uncertain. The uncertainty attending this theory is, indeed, so great that the theory is in danger of being dis- credited thereby: yet by nothing less than a world-wide observational study of coast lines can the uncertainty be resolved. Darwin’s theory of upgrowth during subsidence is not based on the rigid postulate of fixed reef foundations, but on the elastic postulate of a mobile earth’s crust. It regards areas of subsidence as the most favorable for the growth of barrier reefs and atolls; it explicitly takes account of a possible variation in the amount of subsidence from place to place, and it as explicitly includes possible still-stand pauses and occasional moderate uplifts as interruptions in a prevailing subsidence. THE STUDY OF CORAL REEFS 571 Its processes are in no way inconsistent with those of the Glacial-control theory, for the two may be combined; its inferences as to extensive areas of ocean-bottom subsidence may be modified as new facts demand, without in the least invalidating its general value. True, the subsidence that it demands in certain areas is apparently to be measured in thou- sands of feet, and this seems formidable; yet objections to this demand are based much more on our ignorance than on our knowledge regarding the dynamics of the ocean floor. Hence Darwin’s theory provides more general and more probable fundamental conditions for its following processes than are provided by any other theory. Furthermore, as far as present observation in the Pacific goes, nearly all the deduced conse- quences of the theory of upgrowth during subsidence are confirmed: unconformable contact of limestones in uplifted reefs on an eroded in- sular or continental foundation, instead of on a non-eroded foundation as is required by all the still-stand theories; observed or reasonably inferred large thickness of certain elevated reefs, instead of small thick- ness as required by the veneer theory; horizontal structure and rarity of fossil corals in the inner part of uplifted reef masses, instead of inclined structure and abundant fossil corals as the still-stand theories demand; embayed central islands within barrier reefs, the embayments being of such width and depth as no other but the very improbable rising-ocean theory can account for; steep but not becliffed islands of small size in the large lagoons of such barrier reefs as have almost reached the atoll stage; and lagoons of various depths, floored with ac- cumulating deposits. So successful a confrontation of deduced con- sequences with observed facts is certainly very appealing. Such is the array of evidence that has led me to regard Darwin’s theory of upgrowing reefs on subsiding foundations as not only the most acceptable theory of coral reefs yet invented, but as with high prob- ability the dominantly true theory of coral reefs. Itis probably destined to be modified in subordinate measure as new facts come to light, and many new facts are without question still to be discovered; but it seems also destined to stand as the leading theory, even when thus modified. I therefore believe that Darwin’s theory of subsidence will regain in this century the general acceptance it enjoyed through the middle of the last; and that the several alternative theories, which have found more or less favor in the last thirty or forty years, will be given minor rank or discarded altogether. Retrospect——The work of four men was often in mind during my Pacific voyage: Darwin and Dana of an earlier generation, Agassiz and Shaler of our own times. Nathaniel Southgate Shaler, my first teacher in geology, always my best friend at Harvard, the man who opened opportunity to me, who gave me encouragement and support when both were much needed, a man of ever-widening relations with his fellows, 572 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY in whose memory my journey across the Pacific is only one of many journeys that will be undertaken as the years pass. Alexander Agassiz, a man of varied and vast achievement, who saw and studied a greater number of coral reefs than any other scientific observer, and who gave all of us the great example of working untiringly to the end; but a man of so reserved a disposition that few of his associates knew him inti- mately. It is always a regret that my aquaintance with him was slight, and still more that I can not accept the conclusions to which he was led by his many journeys in coral seas. Darwin and Dana, explorers of the Pacific nearly a century ago. How deep is the impress of these two men on the coral-reef problem! How inevitable is the mention of their names whenever coral reefs are discussed! But we must not picture the Darwin of coral-reef fame as a venerable old man, whose face, although wearied by work through long years of ill health, was always so patient and benign; nor yet as a man of middle age, who, steadfast against a flood of prejudiced criti- cism, opened new fields for thought and changed the philosophy of an unwilling world; but as a diffident youth, who, when some one was wanted to do scientific work on a long sea voyage eighty years ago, offered his inexperienced services for what they were worth, and yet carried with him such a fund of original thought that, while still in South America, he invented the best of all coral-reef theories before he had ever seen a true coral reef. And the Dana, who, younger than Darwin by four years to a day, followed him across the oceans, was not the grand figure who was still with us, so bravely alert in well-conserved erectitude, hardly more than a score of years ago; nor yet the man in middle life who, setting us all a measure of industrious versatility that none can now attain, standardized three branches of science in Amer- ica; but a young man, little taught, yet studious and observant, who standing thoughtful on a mountain peak not in Darien but Tahiti, first learned a deep secret of the Pacific, and added to Darwin’s theory of coral reefs the confirmation that even Darwin himself overlooked ! The Pacific still has many prizes for the observant explorer. Let the student who would discover some of them note the good example set by Darwin and Dana, and cross the great ocean early in his life, while he is yet young enough to have, after his return from its inspiration, many years for work; but if he finds it impossible to go early, better late than never ! SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE 573 SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE By O. D. von ENGELN, PH.D. ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY, CORNELL UNIVERSITY F Shakespeare’s life, his personal habits, his ways of playing and working; with whom he was intimate and of his journeyings, we know little or nothing. But a host of editors, commentators, and essayists have examined all the minutie of his environment, the plots, characters, and language of his works; much of it repeatedly. One is reminded by this diligence of the methods employed by the prefect’s agents in Poe’s tale of “The Purloined Letter.” “Shakesperiana,” as a result of all this research, far outstrips, in quantity at least, the litera- ture which has thus far in the world’s history ever accumulated about any other man and his work. Poor Will, should he awake to-day, and should he undertake the heroic task of editing all these writings, what a blue pencilling of pretty volumes there would be! Yet this tangle of speculation and criticism, though full of weak and knotted strands, is in the main a literature we prize. While, there- fore, it is difficult to find a Shakesperian theme that has not been inter- estingly and exhaustively discussed it does seem that the great writer’s nature observations are worthy of a fuller treatment than has hitherto been accorded them. In the following paragraphs some attempt is made to show the range of subjects these cover, and their surprising accuracy in view of the crude state of scientific knowledge in Shakespeare’s time. Manners and customs change, and with them human points of view. By the inventions of three hundred years our social environment has been greatly altered. Yet the rich legacy bequeathed us by that grandest age of English literature, the sixteenth century, has enabled us to image Elizabeth’s court and country with a degree of accuracy that is impos- sible with other remote periods in the history of modern civilization. But as some of the details in the picture, some of the essentials even, lack confirmation, our inferences may often be in error. Man varies his standards of conduct from year to year, but nature is a more staid dame—although she too changes her garb with the seasons, the cut and the cloth of the dress she assumes in each remains the same through the centuries. Thus the climate of Great Britain, the contour of her hills and vales are now as they were in Shakespeare’s time. The same trees grow in the forests, among their branches flutter the same birds, on the forest-floor bloom the identical wild flowers that the poet’s eye loved to dwell upon. If then we study the poet’s nature lines and draw con- 574 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY clusions from them, we may be sure at least that the outdoor world has much the same aspect as it had in his day. Editors in general express their amazement at Shakespeare’s wonder- ful and accurate knowledge in natural science. Yet it is doubtful whether they collectively appreciate how wonderful this really was. They compare Shakespeare’s observations with those of modern scien- tists and note that these agree. They judge Shakespeare’s natural his- tory in the same manner that they would that of a modern novelist and find it more than simply trustworthy. What this means can only be made apparent by an inquiry into the degree of progress in natural science that had been made up to his time. Extremely curious fallacies were entertained and accepted by Shake- peare’s scientific contemporaries, to say naught of the popular beliefs. Comparison of Shakespeare’s observations with those which obtained in the published natural histories of his day enables us to realize how far he was in advance of the authors of such books. One such volume is Bartholomew’s “ De Proprietatibus Rerum,” of which Mr. H. W. Seager, an English writer, says: There can be no doubt that Friar Bartholomew’s book was the standard authority on natural history in Shakespeare’s time. From Batman’s translation of Bartholomew is quoted the following de- scription of bees and their habits: Many have assayed and found that often bees are gendered and come of earrions of cattle. . . . And bees choose to their king him that is most worthy and noble in kindness and firmness, and most clear in mildness, for that is chief virtue in a king. . . . And kindly the more huge bees are the more lighter they be for the greater bees be lighter than the less bees. . . . Also bees sit upon the hives and suck the superfluity that is in honeyecombs. And it is said that if they did not do so thereof should spiders be gendered of that superfluity and the bees should die. Next consider Shakespeare’s version: For so work the honey bees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts; Where some, like magistrates correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer’s velvet buds; Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE 575 Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-ey’d justice, with his surly hum, Delivering o’er to executors pale The lazy yawning drone. —‘Henry V.,’’ Act I., s. 2, 1. 187 et seq. While this poetical account may not be wholly in accord with the ob- servations of a Fabre, yet the whole description is sane, it is in no sense outré. If Shakespeare gives us so faithful an account in verse, where he is entitled to a poet’s license in dealing with the facts, how accurate an interpreter he must have been; since he had to rely necessarily on his own observations for all such descriptions; contemporary natural science abounding in the grotesque vagaries cited above. The country about Stratford-on-Avon was Shakespeare’s haunt until his twenty-first year. Warwickshire, in which Stratford-on-Avon is lo- cated, is in the English Midlands. Of these the Avon district is notable for its soft, reposeful beauty. Every aspect has the appearance of being well rounded off, of being well fed. The land is a series of lowlying plains, separated by rolling hills, its surface suggesting that of a summer sea undulating in gentle swells. Through the lowest vale creeps the Avon water, whose slow advance along shore is all but stopped by the soft friction of the earth margin. In such quiet reaches extensive tracts of bulrushes grow luxuriantly. A fringe of yellow water-lillies generally marks the outer edge of this growth while on the shore side the green meadow grass bends down to meet the water. Where the banks are a bit higher the rich alluvial soil sustains a wealth of beauti- ful wild flowers. Shakespeare himself has described the stream for us: The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know’st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage; But when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with th’ enamell’d stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage. And by so many winding nooks he strays With willing sport to the wild ocean. —**T. Giof V.,°? Act II., s. 7,1. 25 et seq. To any one who has looked through the clear waters of some slow- flowing stream to its pebbled bottom, at a point where it tinkles with swifter motion over some slight descent, the application of the adjective “enamelled” must be fascinating. With a single word, Shakespeare images a page of description. From the shores of Avon the land rises on both sides in gentle sweeps to the uplands, of which both the slopes and summits are dotted with stately clumps of oak and ash, the remnants of a once great forest. In Shakespeare’s time, contemporary authors tell us, quite extensive tracts yet remained standing. The uplands from which the timber has 576 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY been cut are just high enough to be breezy, and from their ridges one commands quite a view of the surrounding country. Amid such pleasant scenes Shakespeare’s boyhood and youth was spent. Undoubtedly he had all a boy’s love of sport, and with his school companions enjoyed many an outing in the woods and fields. On these outings he applied to natural phenomena the same intelligent observation, linked with imagination, that he was to apply so effectively in later life to men and events. Asa boy and youth Shakespeare gained his nature lore, and acquired also the scientist’s painstaking method of investigation. It must not be inferred from this that Shakespeare parted from nature for all time, when, at twenty-one, he rode away to London. But many of his observations are so essentially boyish, they exhibit so plainly the boy’s point of view, that we can not mistake the time when these brain impressions were made. Experiences creep ever and anon into his writings that are curiously part of the career of a healthy-minded youngster rambling on half holidays through Warwick- shire woodlands, and beside the Avon water. He tells us: Men like butterflies Show not their mealy wings but to the summer. —‘‘ Troilus and Cressida,’’ A. III., s. 3, 1. 78-9. We all know of this mealiness, but we feel that it was never the ob- servation of a grown man. Only the boy, whose thumb and forefinger have closed on the struggling captive, can duly appreciate the poet’s conception. It is a boy too, who invites you: I prythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow; And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts; Show thee a jay’s nest and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmozet; I’ll bring thee To clust’ring filberts and sometimes I’ll get thee Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me? —‘Tempest,’’ A. IT., s. 2, 1. 171 et seq. No one could resist such an invitation. Again it is possible that the deer-stealer of later fame is foreshadowed in the youthful poacher who knew The trout that must be caught with tickling. — ‘Twelfth Night,’’ Act II., s. 5, 1. 25-6. Other passages charmingly present the boy. We can not do better than suppose ourselves permitted to accompany the poet and a party of his schoolboy friends, out for an all-day ramble. According to agree- ment, we meet early. The lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate. —Sonnet XXIX. SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE 577 and The busy day Wak’d by the lark, hath rous’d the ribald crows. —‘T, and C.,’’ A. IV., s. 2, 1. 8 et seq. for these the Merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks. —'t, i. L.,’’ A. V., 8. 2, 1. 912. and to their music we wend our way through The quaint mazes in the wanton green past the Nine-men’s morris. = OM 7? A. 11; 8. 1, L995 98. to the edge of the village common. We avoid the highway, choosing, instead, to follow one of those byways for which England is famous; byways that respect no man’s vested right, but cross the midst of fields and turn not aside at the hedge of a private park, for they assert em- phatically, as one writer has put it: That although the land is yours when you buy it, the outlook from every point belongs to the people, and can not be bought! In the dewy grass beside the path we chance upon a snail and find by experiment that he, his Tender horns being hit, Shrinks backwards in his shelly cave with pain, And there all smother’d up, in shade doth sit, Long after fearing to come forth again. —‘‘Venus and Adonis,’’ 1, 1033 et seq. Shakespeare’s vivid memory of this incident enables him to intro- duce, without any incongruity, so homely a creature when his theme is love, moreover to use it in a comparison. In “ Love’s Labour Lost,” Berowne declaims Love’s feeling is more soft and sensible Than are the tender horns of cockled snails. —A. IV., s. 3, 1. 337-8. When at noon we find that The sun shines hot. at Vine Pt oe A. TV... 6. 8,1 60: we turn into the woods where The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind And make a chequer’d shadow on the ground. Under their sweet shade. —‘T. Andron.,’’ A. IT., s. 3, 1. 14 et seq. 578 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY we loll, while Shakespeare weaves for us a thousand fancies. All too soon The sun begins to gild the western sky. : — OP Got V7 AL Wake ie and we must turn on our homeward way. English twilights are long, and the yellow slanting beams from the low-hung orb of day twinkle and gleam among the path-bordering-trees for hours. In this golden light dance the gnats so fast, so furiously, disappearing so mysteriously, that Shakespeare propounds And whither fly the gnats but to the sun? —" HH VL,’? Pt. 3, A, DL, 8, Gao a query no one of us can answer. In silence we trudge the last few miles while: The crickets sing, and man’s o’er labour’d sense Repairs itself by rest. —‘Cymbeline,’’ A. IT., s. 2, 1. 11. It were easy to multiply such pages from Shakespeare’s life and the task is a delightful one. One can not fail to be impressed again and again by the acuteness and accuracy of his observations. When one essays to group these references under their different heads, one first realizes how extensive was his acquaintance with nature, animate. and inanimate. The animal kingdom he brings oftenest to our attention. All the reptiles which were native to Warwickshire he knew; modern investigators have not been able to add to the number which Shakespeare notes in his poems and plays. In other phases of natural history he was equally well versed; to appreciate this we have only to examine his work systematically. Alexander Pope declared of Shakespeare that: Whatever object of nature . . . he speaks of or describes it is always with competent if not with extensive knowledge; his descriptions are still exact, all his metaphors appropriated and remarkably drawn from the true nature and inherent quality of each subject. This appreciation applies in its fullest force to Shakespeare’s knowledge of birds. In this branch of nature lore he displays, indeed, the most exact and extensive learning. There are several reasons for this. The vale of Avon furnished exceptional incentives for the development of an ornithologist, because of the number of species that could be observed there. Other than the varieties of land-birds which regularly resorted to the meadows and woods of the Warwickshire country, seabirds, driven inland from the coast by heavy southwest gales, followed the course of the Avon as far as Stratford, and remained in that vicinity several days before again winging their way back to the shore. In spring and fall SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE 579 migratory birds of many kinds halted there during their north and south flights. Yet the variety of bird life found in Warwickshire only in part ac- counts for Shakespeare’s great birdcraft. A very important factor in its acquisition was the great vogue of falconry in those days. It is hard for us to conceive how widely popular this sport, now almost obsolete, was at that time. Mr. J. E. Harting, a British orni- thologist, writes : In Shakespeare’s time every one who could afford it kept a hawk, and the rank of the owner was indicated by the species of bird he carried. To a king belonged the gerfalcon; to a prince the falcon gentle, to an earl the peregrine, to a lady, the merlin; to a young squire, the hobby; while a yeoman carried a goshawk; a priest, a sparrowhawk; and knave or servant a kestrel. A well-trained hawk was as much a source of pride to the falconer as a skillful hunting dog is to the modern sportsman. That Shakespeare was well versed in this pastime is evident from the numerous references to it which occur in his work, and from the number of its technical terms which he employs. Many of these direct allusions to falconry are inter- esting in themselves. As confident as is the falcon’s flight Against a bird! se Raich diy. ? AY Ts, 3; 1.61, he exclaims, and in “King Henry VI.” we have the old sportsman’s chronic failing, his fondness for patronizing comments—expressed. by Cardinal Beaufort: Believe me, cousin Gloucester, Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, We had had more sport. — TH Vibe ets 2, AL EL., gs: 1, 1 45 eb seq. Similar passages are numerous in fact, the first part of this scene is altogether devoted to falconry talk, and abounds in the jargon of that craft. As may be inferred, not all birds, to use the parlance of the day, were “flown at,” moreover, certain birds were the prerogatives of the great. Among these may be mentioned the heron. This came about partly because such birds afforded better sport; also because the meaner species of hawk, that people of lower rank carried, could not cope to advantage with such large quarry. These restrictions only tended to make the devotee, whate’er his class, more observant of all the birds that came within his view. Such riveting of the attention must have keyed Shakespeare’s powers of observation to the highest pitch. Where other falconers may have dismissed the unavailable bird with a glance, he no doubt beguiled his waiting for desired quarry by noting the habits 580 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY of those species that had nothing to fear from his hawk. Hunters to-day find game that is out of season most plentiful, and in all likelihood the rule held good in the sixteenth century. Yet it is wonderful how many kinds of birds Shakespeare knew. He mentions all the species having popular names. We may well infer that he was acquainted with many more, for it must be remem- bered that Shakespeare was in some degree, no doubt, obliged to confine his allusions to species that were familiar to his audience. Yet he finds occasion to mention the eagle, buzzard, osprey, the different kinds of owls, the pelican, crow, raven and woodpecker, the magpie, jay, thrush, blackbird and bunting, the cuckoo, robin, sparrow and wren, the dove and the partridge. Besides these there are birds distinctively men- tioned as flown at, the lapwing, the woodcock and snipe, also wild geese and duck. Of distinctly sea birds the guillemot and the cormorant are cited. The aptness and truth of the references he makes to these deni- zens of the air shows how conversant he was with their ways. What modern playwright or poet knows half this number of species well enough to use them in his diction? The lark seems to have been a favorite with Shakespeare. It is mentioned again and again, and almost always associated with the morning. Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The sun ariseth in his majesty. —‘‘Venus and Adonis,’’ 1. 853 et seq. The blackbird he describes as - so black of hue With orange tawny bill. — ‘M. N. D.,’’ A. TIL, s. 1, 1. 131-132. The young of the lapwing “run almost as soon as they are hatched” we are informed by ornithologists, and Shakespeare has noted this pecu- liarity. This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head. —‘‘Hamlet,’’ A. V., s. 2, 1. 193. Perhaps the best way to show how intimately Shakespeare knew the facts will be to examine his so-called errors and especially one that has attracted some attention in the past, and apparently taxed the resources of commentators to explain. In several plays Shakespeare ascribes a certain habit to the cuckoo. These quotations are given below in their chronological order. Why should the worm intrude the maiden bud? Or hateful cuckoos hatch in sparrows’ nests? —‘‘Lucrece,’’ 1. 848-9. SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE 581 And being fed by us you us’d us so As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo’s bird, Useth the sparrow; did oppress our nest; Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk... . —‘‘Henry IV.,’’ Pt. 1, A. V., s. 1, 1. 58 et seq. But since the cuckoo builds not for himself. —‘‘Ant. and Cleo.,’’ Act. II., s. 6, 1. 28. For you know, nuncle The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, That it had it head bit off by it young. —‘‘Lear,’’ Act IL, s. 4, 1. 237 et seq. An investigation of these passages proved extremely diverting be- cause of the varied ways in which the different critics and Shakespearian editors tried to explain, dodge or ignore the question—Was Shakespeare at fault in accrediting such habits to the cuckoo? In the lines from “Lear,” moreover, two disputed textual passages occur. The Globe edition has the last line: That it had it head bit off by it young which is awkward and meaningless. This line some other editions boldly change to just the opposite and have two “ its,” reading: That it had its head bit off by its young. Furness in the Variorum edition inclines to the reading That it’s had it head bit off by it young explaining his “it’s” as a contraction for it has, which would seem to give sense to the passage, 1. e., that it (the sparrow) has had it (the sparrow’s) head bit off by it (the cuckoo) when still young. Again in the case of the phrase “ For you know nuncle” the Globe reading and the Variorum edition agree on the above; (nor is there any- thing said about a different reading in the Variorum). Yet Schmidt in his Shakespeare Lexicon defines “ trow = believe” for this passage ; and so it is printed in Knight’s edition of Shakespeare’s works. Now let us see what the commentators have to say regarding the natural history of the lines. Mr. J. E. Harting, the ornithologist, after quoting all three passages, dodges the issue: The solution of this question is the more puzzling from the fact that this parasitical habit is not common to all species of the genus cuckoo. An American species builds a nest for itself and hatches its own eggs. The habits of our English bird must always be as much a marvel to us as its remarkable voice, ete. Mr. Chas. Knight, the Shakespearian editor, pins his faith to “ trow,” 582 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY adopting this reading without question and triumphantly champions the poet as follows: There is a remarkable instance in his (Shakespeare’s) discrimination be- tween the popular belief and the scientific truth in his notice of the habits of the euckoo. The Fool in ‘‘Lear’’ expresses the popular belief in a proverbial sentence: For you trow nuncle The hedge sparrow fed the cuckoo so long That its had its head bit off by it young. Worcester, in his address to ‘‘ Henry IV.,’’ expresses the scientific fact with- out the vulgar exaggeration, . . . a fact unnoticed until the time of Dr. Jenner by any writer but the naturalist William Shakespeare: And being fed by us you us’d us so As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo’s bird, Useth the sparrow; did oppress our nest, Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk.... Mr. J. E. Harting, some half dozen pages after his first dismissal of the subject, recurs to it again: The opinion that the cuckoo made no nest of its own but laid its eggs in that of another bird, which brought up the young cuckoo to the detriment of its own offspring, was well known to the ancients and is mentioned by Aristotle and Pliny. The more recent scientific discussions of this bit of natural history are interesting reading, in view of the decided differences of opinion among the commentators. The Victoria History of Warwickshire, be- cause of the thorough manner in which the various subjects are treated, is a valuable reference book on Shakespeare’s native county. The sec- tion on the Ornithology of Warwickshire was written by Mr. R. T. Tomes, F.G.S. and corresponding mem. Z. 8., who under the head of “the cuckoo” (although he makes no reference to Shakespeare) has the following sentence: I have long been of the opinion that the female cuckoo lays her eggs on the bare ground, from which she takes them in her beak and places them in the nests of other birds. He cites instances when he has observed this transference of the egg. Other British ornithologists, in general, believe that the cuckoo not only deposits its egg in some smaller bird’s nest, but also that the cuckoo fledgeling, by an upward jerk of its rump, hurls the true off- spring of its foster parents from the nest; and itself grows so large before leaving this that the foster parents are compelled to perch on the fledgeling’s shoulders, in order to convey food to its gluttonous maw. Under the circumstances is it not a plausible enough theory, that Shake- speare did witness some such tragedy as is indicated in the Fool’s lines; ; q SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE _ 583 and that he therefore needs no learned etymological or ornithological defense ? The other so-called natural history errors of Shakespeare are prob- ably enough, as Mr. Knight contends, due to his reliance on books; as Knight puts it: Shakespeare derived his nature truths from observation, his untruths from books. Such errors are: The toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. —‘As Y. L. It,’’ A. IT., s, 1, 1. 13-4. Now I will believe . . That ...in Arabia There . . . is one phoenix. —‘‘Tempest,’’ A. III., s. 3, 1. 22 et seq. Knight, curiously enough, in view of his elucidation of the cuckoo epi- sode, fails to note in this connection the rather obvious fact, that such errors are given as beliefs of the characters who express them, or, indeed, as expressions of their own skepticism, as in the case of the phoenix, and are, not therefore, to be construed as accepted by Shakespeare himself. The limitations of this paper preclude considering in detail all the divisions of natura] history that Shakespeare knew at first hand. It must suffice that we pick out several of the more noteworthy for exami- nation. As in the case of the birds, Shakespeare’s insects attract at- tention because of the remarkable number of species mentioned. When we think of the very small number of insects that the average person, to-day, can call by name, how many less he knows, or remembers the habits of, and that even now only a very small proportion of the classified species have popular names; we can better appreciate the range and quality of that man’s observations, who in the city, far from their haunts, wrote about, from memory, almost all the species possessing popular names, that were native to his youthful home. Mr. Robert Patterson, an entomologist (Treasurer of the Natural History Society of Belfast), found that the passages in Shakespeare containing notices of insects occupied “nine closely written pages of letter paper.” He has not printed this list, but we may surmise from his language that he considered it extensive, in fact he says elsewhere that he was “ surprised at the amount of natural history contained in the plays.” It needs only a short search to come upon a passage revealing more than a merely superficial knowledge of this topic. If a modern ento- mologist were made a dramatist, he could not better voice scientific fact than Shakespeare has in the lines: 584 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. —‘‘Coriolanus,’’ A. V., s. 4, 1. 12-13. It can not be too often reiterated that nature knowledge, such as displayed in this sentence, was nothing less than extraordinary in a sixteenth-century poet. Because the phases of the butterfly’s life his- tory are commonly known to-day, we are apt to pass over the expression without thinking of its real import—that at a time when natural history abounded in absurdities and superstitious beliefs, this man stated the facts. Again his uses of these facts and keen observations are at times imaginative to a fascinating degree. When Mamillius in “'The Winter’s Tale” whispers: I will tell it softly; Yond crickets shall not hear it. —Act II., s. 1, 1. 29-30. his conception of the crickets as listeners, because they cease their clamorous chirpings, remaining absolutely silent as long as you converse in their vicinity, is a very pleasing fancy. When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. —‘‘Com. of Errors,’’ Act II., s. 2, 1. 30-31. And often, to our comfort, shall we find The sharded beetle in a safer hold Than is the full wing’d eagle. —‘‘Cymbeline,’’ Act III., s. 3, 1. 19 et seq. are on the other hand passages embodying bits of philosophy which might well have found place in Bacon’s essays. There are, in other of these insect passages, unrivalled quaintness and suggestiveness. No other poet has surpassed in imagery the conceits Shakespeare has made familiar in the description of Queen Mab’s chariot and its fittings. Her chariot is an empty hazelnut Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, Time out o’mind the fairies’ coach-makers. (Its) .. . wagon-spokes made of long spinner’s legs The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers The traces, of the smallest spider’s web. Her whip, of cricket’s bone; the lash of film; Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat. —‘R. and J.,’’? A. IL, s. 4, 1. 60, ete. Here must be inserted too that queer stanza: The fox, the ape and the humble-bee Were still at odds, being but three, SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE 585 Until the goose came out of door And stay’d the odds by adding four. —‘L, L. L.,’’ A. III, s. 1, 1. 90 et seq. This is sheer nonsense and would adorn Lewis Carroll’s “ Alice’s Ad- ventures in Wonderland.” Passing from animate to inanimate nature, we think first of flowers, the beautiful things of creation. Perdita’s speech in “The Winter’s Tale,” so often quoted, claims first attention: O Proserpina! For the flowers now that frighted thou let’st fall From Dis’s waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes Or Cytherea’s breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds The flower-de-luce being one. —Act IV., s. 3, 1. 116 et seq. As has so often been pointed out, she keeps precisely to the order of the season, while Milton, in a like passage, flagrantly violates the cal- endar of nature. Mr. Hamilton Wright Mabie has made the interesting discovery, that there is only one place near Stratford: Whereon the wild thyme blows. — OMe iN. 577A. T., 8. 1, 1, 249. and that it is a bank along the path to Shottery. If we may judge by the context of this passage, the associations coupled in Shakespeare’s mind with this path, and bank, were not nearly so unpleasant as some commentators would have us believe. The subtleties of trees’ growth and habits, their characteristics and individualities, have not been lost on Shakespeare. He notes the re- flection where There is a willow grows aslant a brook That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream. —/*Hamlet,’’? Act IV., s. 7, 1. 167-8. Only the under side of the willow’s leaves are hoar; again Shakespeare’s statement is perfectly exact. In the “ Rape of Lucrece” we have The cedar stoops not to the base shrub’s foot But low shrubs wither at the cedar’s root. —‘‘Luerece,’’ 1. 664-5. which observation must always please the geographical botanist. VOL. 11.—40. 586 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY Shakespeare, while so widely conversant with the minutiae of nature, was not blind or indifferent to her broader aspects. For these, also, he had an appreciative eye. He noted the pageants of the clouds; the manifold shapes they assume: Sometimes we see a cloud that’s dragonish; A vapour sometimes like a bear or lion, A tower’d citadel, a pendant rock A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon’t, that nod unto the world And mock our eyes with air. —‘‘Ant. and Cleo.,’’ Act IV., s. 12, 1. 3 et seq. The colorful picture he presents in the lines When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight. —‘L. L. L.,’’ Act V., s. 2, 1. 902 et seq. is surely a laughing, happy one of spring; while again, what could be more realistic than the autumn he depicts in Sonnet 73: That time of year... behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. These very many nature notes, sprinkled almost uniformly through- out his work, show how intimately the nature lover was associated with the poet in Shakespeare’s art. Their quality indicates the patient seek- ing for the inner reason of things, that is the characteristic of the man of science. Individually the passages please us as does a tinkling chime of silver bells. The striking applications that the dramatist makes of these lines show him, however, a master of his art. Critics assert that certain of these nature passages were independent compositions that were later fitted into the plays and poems where they occur (by their author) in order that they might not be lost. The story of the hunt, in Lucrece, is commonly mentioned as an example of such interpolation. Granted that this be true, has any one ever ventured to say that these passages serve no purpose, or that they are inapt? Quite the contrary! It is remarkable enough that, although critics disagree about almost all else, on this one point they stand united: Shakespeare’s similes and metaphors are always appropriate and clear. The German Shakespeare scholar, Dr. C. C. Hense, has even found himself called upon to defend Shakespeare’s unrestrained and literal use of nature truths with such correctness. If fault can really be found with the poet’s usage; Hense’s defense of it is bold and convincing. He says: SHAKESPEARE, THE OBSERVER OF NATURE _ 587 Man hat wohl von Shakespeare gesagt, das er die Schénheit der Warheit und Wirklichkeit unterordne. In seiner Verwendung der Naturverhiltnisse tritt eine Wahrheit hervor, fiir welche der delikatere Sinn der spiateren Zeit die Emphang- lichkeit zum Teil verlor. Die Dichter des Altertums, der Natur niher stehend, vergleichen mit unbefangener Naturfrische Menschen mit Tieren; der tadelnde Beigeschmack, welchen der Vergleich mit gewissen Tieren einschlieszt, war in dem unbefangenen Natursinn der Alten nicht vorherrschend.1 He then cites passages from Homer, Horace, and other classical authors illustrating the decidedly “unconventional” comparisons they com- monly employed. Nor was this appropriateness of Shakespeare’s nature _ references confined to the minutiae of his work. To quote another Ger- man author, H. Heine, every drama has Sein besonderes Clima, seine bestimmte Jahreszeit, und seine lokalen Eigen- tiimlichkeiten. Wie die Personen in jedem dieser Dramen, so hat auch der Boden und der Himmel, der darin sichtbar wird, eine besondere Physiognomie.? Thus we have the action of Romeo and Juliet taking place in sunny Verona, while Hamlet and Macbeth live their tragic lives under the gloom and fog of northern skies. Turn now from the poet’s written interpretation of his feeling and observations to a contemplation of the man himself, as revealed by those lines. Shakespeare, the nature lover—this phrase in itself expresses one of the most delightful conceptions we have in the history of literature. The conception is all the more pleasing if we accept the conclusions drawn by Mr. C. Creighton in his curious book entitled “ Shakespeare’s Story of His Life,” wherein he attempts to unravel the biography from allusions in the poet’s work. According to it Shakespeare’s life in large part must have been very unhappy, for it is a tale of naught but quarrels, disappointed ambition and heartburnings arising from misplaced friend- ships. In any case, although he did not avoid society as did Thoreau, Shakespeare’s joy in a secluded footpath must have been great, partic- ularly if he was so unhappy in his social life. Imagine how his heart must have surged and expanded away from public haunt, finding Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks Sermons in stones, and good in everything. =f Ag ¥, I. 1t,’? Act 11., a;.1, 1. 16-17. 1It is true that Shakespeare has been accused of subordinating beauty to truth and realism. This is only so because in his nature references a verity is apparent that a later generation has in part lost its ability to appreciate owing to the development of a greater fastidiousness. The classical poets, in closer touch with nature, compared man with the beasts in a very unconstrained and naive fashion. Because of their unconventional attitude toward nature these early writers were not dominated by a number of modern taboos, including that of comparisons with certain animals, 2Its suited climate, appropriate season, and local peculiarities. As the char- acters in every one of these plays, so also the earth and sky depicted therein, have each their distinctive and characteristic aspects. 588 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY “Good in everything.” .What an amount of satisfaction may be ex- pressed by the word good. We feel its real force, now, better, when we hear “ goodly”: “a goodly sight it was... .” One thing which must always make us happy is that we may feel reasonably sure that the poet spent the last few years of his life at his boyhood home, and that he could in those years satisfy the longing so feelingly expressed in the lines: O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Ah! what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. —‘‘Henry VI.,’’ Pt. 3, Act IL, s. 5, L 21 ete: Si ee SHAKESPEARE AS HEALTH TEACHER 589 SHAKESPEARE AS HEALTH TEACHER By JAMES FREDERICK ROGERS, M.D. NEW HAVEN, CONN. CCORDING to the notions of the age in which he lived, Shake- speare would hardly have been recognized as a“ doctor of physic,” but from the twentieth century point of view he was, and is, a great physician. A curer of disease he certainly was not, but as teacher of mental and bodily sanity he has had a clientele that is numberless. So superior a mind must have had an aversion to the company of the average doctor of medicine of the time. Their “science,” which he evi- dently sifted to the bottom, was largely nonsense, and their practise con- sisted chiefly in the indiscriminate letting of blood and the administra- tion of sundry traditionary, and not always safe, concoctions. Had he joined their ranks, however, and become a “curer of the body,” Shake- speare would have allowed little to escape his keen senses in his study of the sick, and his weighing of signs and symptoms would have been made with nice judgment. Above all, he would have “understood ” his patient—he would have had a rare insight into the condition of mind underlying or resulting from the bodily derangement and felt the im- portance of ministering unto “the immortal” as well as unto the cor- poreal part of his nature. At least he would have been honest and would have admitted as much, if the sick man needed more “ the divine than the physician.” Medical science in and about the year sixteen hundred was so limited and so steeped in astrology and metaphysics that its professional study could hardly have appealed to many, save those who delighted in one or the other of these vagaries. Indeed, metaphysics and astrology were necessary to fill up the great hiatus of ignorance of the body itself in health and disease. Neither of these speculative pursuits offered a very firm basis on which to establish the art of healing. Though much prog- ress had been made in gross anatomy, the compound microscope had yet to be invented and the science of physiology was, as yet, practically a blank book. The processes of digestion were vaguely understood, but there was complete ignorance of respiration and of circulation, and the brain was only coming to be recognized as the seat of consciousness. There was as yet but a hazy guess at the nature of infectious disease. Practitioners of physic still leaned heavily, for support of their otherwise usually supportless practises, upon the ancients. “Thus saith Galen” or “so rules Hippocrates” was prefixed to most medical for- 590 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY mule. The ascendancy of Galen was especially complete in England. True, the name of Avicenna was not unknown, and the learning of the Arabians was not wholly neglected. A lively leaven of independence of authority had also been set working in the middle of the sixteenth cen- tury by the audacious Paracelsus (mentioned by Shakespeare in “ All’s Well that Ends Well”) who dared to proclaim that his shoe buckle knew as much as all the ancients, and, what was more modest and vastly more important, declared that he, as well as they, could study nature first hand. It is evident that some of the English men of medicine were equally free from the trammels of tradition, for William Harvey was but fourteen years younger than Shakespeare. But, among all but a few, Galen was the medical god; the normal condition or “temper- ament” of the body was believed to depend upon the right mixture of the four elusive elements of the Greek thinkers—hot, cold, moist and dry—while from faulty proportioning of these there arose “ distempers,” and from distempers, under certain external conditions of food, of air, or more subtle phenomena, there developed disease. Ailments—their cause and cure—were then, as now, matters of com- mon conversation. Each man diagnosed his neighbor’s complaint and suggested his own favorite remedy. ‘There were even popular health books—and not bad ones. The “ Castell of Helth,” probably the first of these, was compiled (chiefly from Galen) in 1554 by no less a person than Thos. Elyot, Knight, privy councillor to Wolsey, intimate of Crom- well, ete. Its publication aroused the ire of the profession because of the sacrilege of the translation into the vernacular, because the trans- lator was a layman, and for less worthy reasons. Fifty years later, when Shakespeare’s earlier plays were leaving the press, Thomas Cogan, a humble physician and teacher, published the “ Haven of Health, made for the comfort of Students.” Shakespeare may have glanced through this work, which displayed some little wit and good sense, but for the material of which the author acknowledged himself much indebted to Master Elyot, “his Castell of Helth.” Then, as now, however, it was not so much the invention of cures for its ailments that was most needed for humanity, but an insight into the cause, and, therefore, into the prevention of disease. In London and in the village of Stratford (were rural conditions worse than urban then, as they usually are now?) men lived in the most filthy fashion, and they unwittingly reaped the consequences of their uncleanliness. Even John Shakespeare, father of the dramatist, well-to-do chief magis- trate though he became, was fined for having a dunghill in his front yard. The condition of the rest of his premises is not pleasant to con- template, and yet it is said that his illustrious son, in his first year, escaped the plague which carried off one sixth of the population of Strat- ford, only because his home was the most comfortable and sanitary in f q } b SHAKESPEARE AS HEALTH TEACHER 591 the place. ‘To the older scourges of unsanitary Kurope, there had been recently added by the voyagers to new worlds some new plagues. Not- able among these acquisitions was syphilis, which wrought havoc among all classes, and which, despite its own tendency to self-destruction and the brilliant work of modern medicine, still reaps a plenteous and hideous harvest of death and deterioration. Whether Shakespeare’s home surroundings saved him as an infant from his first experience with the plague, it allowed him opportunity for the fullest unfolding of his bodily powers, and gave him the apprecia- tion of the feeling of health. He lived in a village of less than fifteen hundred inhabitants; there was a river in which to fish and swim, and there were inviting fields over which to rove and hunt with horse and hawk and hound. He could draw a “good long bow” and was well practiced in self-defense with quarterstaff and sword. That he made use of his opportunities for physical education is evidenced by the lines of autobiography scattered through his plays. His stay in the public school was brief, and his health was unaffected by study. Cogan found that students then “be commonly valetudinary, that is sickly.” Shakespeare did not belong to this class. His was a “lusty” youth, which led, by suitable living (despite some probable excesses and escapades), to a lusty age, for it is not believable that one who looked with so rare and philosophic vision at the strutters upon life’s stage, could himself have been guilty of much of their weakness. Besides, the very great man is seldom given to dissipation. There is too much else for him in life. In Shakespeare’s earlier plays there is (saving the introduction of Pinch the “hungry, lean-faced villain” and quack into “The Comedy of Errors”) little mention of physic and less of physicians, and he seems to have, in or out of his plays, no use for the services of a doctor of physic. He was approaching the age of sedentariness, however, had already learned that “unquiet meals make ill digestion,’ and perhaps other experiences of minor bodily ills followed and aroused his especial interest in such matters. At any rate, after 1597 the words “physic” and “physical,” used often in the general sense of something salutary, appear frequently. In “Henry the Fourth” (159%-1598) Shakespeare exhibits con- siderable knowledge of medical matters, Falstaff furnishing the material of his public clinic. He pictures accurately the bodily changes of senil- ity; he mentions apoplexy, the gout, the pox (syphilis), and epilepsy ; and in speaking of grief as leading to apoplexy he makes Falstaff say, “T have read the cause of its effects in Galen.” The remark of Prince Henry siavatien ah ata If he be sick With joy, he will recover without physic, 592 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY shows his observation of the effects of mental states on bodily, and vice versa. Shakespeare’s interest in “physic” and his intimacy with physicians may have been simultaneous; perhaps the latter preceded the former. His opinion of the average doctor of the day is presented in probably a not much exaggerated way in his Doctor Caius, in “'The Merry Wives of Windsor” about the year 1600. This and the plays of the next four years are full of fun and sarcasm at the expense of the profession, with little hint that there might be in it any but charlatans and ignoramuses. Will you cast away your child on a fool and a physician? He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope. Throw physic to the dogs. I'll none of it. Sir Toby. Sot, did’st see Dick Surgeon, sot? Clown, O, he’s drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyn were set at eight i’ the morning. These were not expressions wholly respectful to the learned practitioners of medicine and surgery. In “Troilus and Cressida” he again shows much familiarity with the bodily ailments of the age. By the time he wrote “Lear” and “ Macbeth” (1605) he had evidently come upon more worthy material in the medical profession. The doctors of these plays are large-minded, sympathetic, and unhampered by tradition, above all exhibiting keen appreciation of the phenomena of mental aberration and a readiness to admit the fact that ... this disease is beyond my practice. It was not the habit of the majority of the doctors of physic to admit that they could not cure insanity, or anything else, by some material means. Shakespeare recommends for such patients rest, sleep, and a removal of “ the means of all annoyance”; his decision concerning Lady Macbeth, More needs she the divine than the physician, foreshadows, by three centuries, the general popular and professional agitation concerning the value of mental treatment of nervous disorders. Shakespeare had full opportunity at hand for the study of insanity in many of its forms—the great majority of those afflicted were abroad in the land, though the more violent were chained in loathsome prisons or confined in little better “asylums.” Far down into the seventeenth century the cause of insanity. was laid at the door of demonology and witchcraft, and it is to be remembered that hospitals for the insane and SHAKESPEARE AS HEALTH TEACHER 593 their humane treatment date back little more than a half century. Like a true scientist, Shakespeare shows chief interest in the border-line cases; and, to this day, the critics, after close examination of his most famous study, “ Hamlet,” have been unable to say whether the subject was or was not insane. The dramatist would probably have said that he was both. Shakespeare must have had a deep fellow feeling for the in- sane, especially for those so near to mental health. There must have been, beneath his careful delineations, more than mere art for art’s sake, and there was painstaking truthfulness not in exhibiting some spectac- ular cures but in lauding the effects of the commonplace influences of Our foster-nurse of nature and of Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care. Not only did he warn against the conditions which push men across that narrow and invisible line which forms the boundary between sanity and insanity of the mind, but, as Mr. Rolfe said, Shakespeare “ went out of his way” as a playwright to preach, even to the warning against the danger from a common cold, the gospel of bodily health. In Coriolanus (1606) he gives a considerable number of lines to the subject of the interdependence and need of harmony among the organs of the body. The other structures rebelled against the stomach and 3) Suing one Stes Ie accused it: That only like a gulf it did remain I’ the midst o’ the body, idle and unactive, Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing Like labor with the rest. ‘*True it is,’’? quoth the belly, ‘*“That I receive the general food at first, Which you do live upon; and fit it is, Because I am the storehouse and the shop Of the whole body: but if you do remember, I send it through the rivers of your blood, Even to the court, the heart—to the seat o’ the brain; And, through the cranks and offices of man, The strongest nerves and small inferior veins From me receive that natural competency Whereby they live.’’ We are strongly reminded of Shakespeare’s greatest contemporary, Cer- vantes, who makes his hero say to Sancho “ The health of the whole body is tempered in the laboratory of the stomach.” Was Shakespeare fa- miliar, at the time, with Don Quixote? The dramatist more than once called attention to the result of tak- ing too much food into the stomach, for 594 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY Fat stomachs have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits. Falstaff is, in himself, an eloquent sermon on temperance. Drunkenness received no gentle rebuke from Shakespeare’s pen. What’s a drunken man like, fool? asks Olivia of Feste in “ Twelfth Night” (1601). Like a drowned man, a fool and a madman. One draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him. and in “ Othello,” Cassio bewails-at length the folly of his intemperance. Oh God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel and applause, transform our- selves into beasts! . . . To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and pres- ently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblest, and the ingredient is a devil. Shakespeare paints the picture of the victim of venereal disease with no sparing of pigment and with no uncertain sweep of the brush. He even goes to the pains (not for the sake of creating a sensation) of exhibiting the foulness and baseness of the “sty” where Diseases have been sold dearer than physic. It is in this same play, “ Pericles”—nearly his last—that Shake- speare describes his ideal physician, or some real doctor of physic whom he admires. Possibly he had in mind his son-in-law John Hall; but Shakespeare himself was most worthy of the lines: 4 Sea ING tose DLS ’Tis known, I ever Have studied physic. Through which secret art, By turning o’er authorities, I have (Together with my practice) made familiar To me and to my aid, the blessed infusions That dwell in vegetatives, in metals, stones; And I can speak of the disturbances That Nature works, and of her cures; which doth give me A more content in course of true delight Than to be thirsty after tottering honour, Or tie my treasure up in silken bags To please the fool and death. Shakespeare was not a student of sanitation, for the sources of infec- tion, other than in a most hazy way, were as yet unknown. Had he lived to-day he might have pointed a telling finger at our public and private uncleanliness. It is probable that he was the victim of filthy SHAKESPEARE AS HEALTH TEACHER 595 conditions at Stratford, for he died of a fever of not long duration. Doubtless he was, in this illness, ministered to by his son-in-law who had gained an enviable reputation as a physician and was much sought after by “those of more than ordinary understanding” and even by “such as hated him for his religion.” Though he died at fifty-two, Shakespeare had, according to the reckoning of Montaigne, a quarter century earlier reached, for that time, a good old age. Probably had it not been for some unavoidable cause, his superior physique, his appreciation of health, and his tem- perance would have preserved him many years more. He had, however, completed his work, for he had ceased to write, so far as we know, two years before his end. He would not have considered himself a physician, but in the most important sense of being a teacher of health he stands among the first of that goodly company of non-professionals: Plato, Cervantes, Moliére, Montaigne, Bacon, Locke, Addison, Wesley, Franklin, Carlyle, Beecher, Spencer, and others who, by both precept and practise, have been our greatest preachers of the gospel of health. As a minister to the mind, and, through it, to the fragile machinery through which it works, he has no peer. 596 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY AN ANALYTICAL STUDY OF ATHLETIC RECORDS By GEORGH P. MEADE CARDENAS, CUBA ie June, 1915, Norman Taber, formerly of Brown University and Oxford, ran a mile in 4 minutes 234 seconds, about two seconds faster than any amateur had ever been credited with running that dis- tance. The question may have occurred to some of us at that time, “How far can the breaking of records continue?”’ Improvement in tech- nique or in method may affect such records as the high jump and the pole vault; changes in apparatus may affect others such as the hammer- throw, but running is an act so natural and free from “knack” that it would seem probable that there is some rule governing the rate at which man can run—some limit which the records approach and beyond which they are not likely to go. Before looking into the matter further let us consider the class of figures with which we have to deal. Athletic records have every right to consideration as scientific data. Races are timed by at least three skilled timers; distances are accurately surveyed and are remeasured in case a claim for a record is to be made; strict rules are observed to prevent mistake or fraud at the start and finish, and unusual circumstances, such as favoring winds, are noted by judges or referee. Finally the performance is investigated by a com- mittee of the national athletic board of the country in which the race was run, and every circumstance which might affect the validity of the record is discussed before the record is sanctioned. (These precautions apply only to amateur athletics. Professional races are run under hap- hazard conditions, and timing is unreliable, so professional records will not be dealt with here at all.) Athletic events may be divided into two classes—those which are run in all championship meets, and for which athletes practise regularly, and those which are run more rarely and for which practise is incidental. Of the first class, which we might term “standard” events, are the 100-yd., 220-yd. and 440-yd. dashes, the half-mile, mile, two-mile and five-mile runs. It is in these standard events that world-wide competi- tion has been going on for many years. So many thousands of men have striven to break these records that they may be taken as closely approximating the best which man can do, rather than as representing the best which men have been able to do so far. ATHLETIC RECORDS 597 In order to compare the speeds at various distances it is necessary to compute the rate for some unit distance. or distances below five miles the seconds per 100 yds. is used as the unit. (For example, the record for the half mile is 1 min. 52% secs., or 112.5 secs. The rate per 100 yds. is ue or 12.79 seconds.) For distances greater than five miles 8.8 the rate is computed to seconds per mile. Let us consider the world’s best running records for the standard distances as given in Spalding’s Athletic Almanac for 1915. The last column gives the rate per hundred yards, computed as shown above. Distance Time Holder Rate per 100 Yds. UNG RR eee ee ae 93 secs. Kelly 9.60 secs. BON Pe a cdi var acesess estas 214“ Wefers 9.69." BEINN MUIR ere saccaswoicea. doe 474 “6 Long 10.86 ‘ 2S IN 6 ES ee 1:523 ‘° Meredith Le Mis PMG? 3 .2c<0 ons senses, 4:122 “ Taber 14.35 ‘ WO MUS. 2.20.56 000-2 0<00 9:093 ‘ Shrubb 15.60 ‘ Three miles......... yamine: 14:172 ‘° Shrubb 16.22 ‘* OUP Mes,:.....0:50..06 19:232 ° Shrubb 16.52 ‘‘ Rave MG, 005-6. cee. 0x. 24:332 ‘¢ Shrubb 16.735 ™ A study of these rates shows that for the 100-yd. dash and the 220- yd. dash the rate is practically identical. Here the fatigue in running the longer distance is offset by the greater effect of the delay at the start on the rate of the shorter dash. Beginning with the 220-yd. dash rate, les Frate per 100 44s. 119 Seconds. — lo THE EHTS 2 4 REO Yas Distence Fiun tn miles. Fig. 1. CURVE REPRESENTING THD RELATIONSHIP, FOR THH STANDARD DISTANCES, BETWEEN THE RATE OF SPEED AND THE DISTANCD COVERED. 598 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY however, we note that the rates increase for each succeeding distance, but with a constantly decreasing increment. Representing the rates as vertical distances and the miles as hori- zontal distances, we can show graphically the relationship between the rates, as in Fig. 1. The smoothness of the curve connecting all the points plotted is striking—so striking, indeed, as to indicate strongly that there is an approach to a definite relationship between the various records which have been reduced by extended competition. No claim is made that the limit has been reached in the breaking of these records. Such a claim might be refuted by actual performance in the next athletic meet. But the probability of any marked change in the records represented by the curve is very remote. ; To show the effect of competition on the rates, let us plot some of the second class of events (that is, those which are run more rarely). As instances we will choose the following: Distance Time Holder Rate per 100 Yds. 1,000 vyards. ..i.0:0...!c.00. 2:122 Sheppard 13.40 STA eee phen teas esc davaes 3:02¢ Conneff 13.84 Oe cel (eae ener eee 6:462 Conneff 15.39 These points are plotted in Fig. 2, together with the curve already shown in Fig. 1. The points, as might have been expected, fall outside U 100 yds 17 Seconds Frere per RL0 Ye Distance Tans in mules Fic. 2. THE SAMDP CURVE AS IN Fic. 1, TOGETHPR WITH POINTS PLOTTED FOR RATH AND DISTANCE For 1,000 Yps., 3% MiLp AND 1% Mites. Showing that for dis- tances in which competition has been less keen the points fall outside the curve. i te a el Th Se ATHLETIC RECORDS 599 the curve. The rate for these less usual events is, therefore, greater than in the standard events. ‘There is little doubt that if these distances were included in the regular schedule of championship events the records would fall until the points were included in our curve. For convenience in studying the records for distances beyond five miles the rates are calculated to seconds per mile, instead of seconds per 100 yards. Following are the records and calculated rates: Distance | Time Holder Rate per mile SONYA craabax cu weeeaaneyas 474 secs. Long 191.2 secs, PELE i cncanes eee veceateen Aaa Meredith 225.0 ‘* BHO: WINE 52 62e0 5 sce c0s ces os 4:128 <¢ Taber 252.6 ‘ oi GOO CA Se 9:092 ‘ Shrubb 274.8 ‘ Munroe miles, .....- 5-5-4. LAB7S. 58 Shrubb 285.8 ‘ Pour MUGA, |.....0...20s000 T9:238,. “ CHEMISTRY BUILDING, 1905 THE 616 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY HOME OF changed in appearance, is an address in which was emphasized the need of trained chemists in the develop- ment of our national industries. Sectional meetings were held which a total of 283 papers were of- in THE DEPARTMENT OF CHEMISTRY FROM 1878 TO 1902. fered. These were distributed as fol- lows: Agriculture and Food .........--- 22 BOO PLCAW on se wink oo ora os wow) hei ato 76 Wiertalizerpre ns yo ccs loot hcherenitn, srete"s"