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Pia ad Xena. vy yeeye UM . Wd wf? Wi My MN ere oy TT NY PIAA TS: | ee) bs i “wa hI} N Diy yew Vv cannnes HTH aes ae Dw ‘ vr fey La . g { is wd si | VG OW S Pao | my = %t. t a) ‘" adden A Pes Neh ea “Sree tatty edisak ce yre® a rr ere | MN - A. a Arar tives ~~ mae) ry ! vw vj "yr" Neel | T wre \ ee iy a Lees . wr re sania qogn Ter. | andl, wait ti | ‘( aNhy faery b ‘ ‘etre pq,™ ? geGege 1 peel, vuoi ii HU HEMT | w-w! ['e, "wey. w* wy! Poy ye BU = | aey? ~ i ie / 4 r fl s =} oth v1 ‘ C Prey ti hr . {i ity ny AND ITS, SCIENTIFIC SECTION. . : POUGHKEEPSIE, NN m, 1885-1887. VOL. IV. TRANSACTIONS VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE, AND ITS SCIENTIFIC SECTION. POUGHKEEPSIE, N. Y. iikeho DF Maken (s VOL. IV. PART I. PUBLISHING COMMITTEE: WM. G. STEVENSON, WM. B. DWIGHT, LEROY C. COOLEY. Z35574 CONTENTS OF VOLUME IV. TEVAIRHD 1 Interpretations of Nature—William G. Stevenson, M.D., 5 3 5 Discussion of the President’s Address—Rey. Henry L. Ziegenfuss, 30 The Quakers and their Doctrines—James M. DeGarmo, Ph.D., . 30 Ancient Sculpture—Prof. Henry Van Ingen, . ; a a The Social ‘Status of Women in Japan—D. B. Simmons, M. iD 5 30 Aerial Navigation—Prof. W. Le Conte Stevens, : é 5 | oe The Battle of Long Island—Truman J. Backus, L.L.D., . ; AT Fifth Annual Meeting of the Institute, May 5, 1886, : ; el Treasurer’s Report, 5 : : ; : ; : : : 48 Curator’s Report, : : : 0 6 : ; : : . 48 Librarian’s Report, : : ; : : ; ; : i 58 Secretary’s Report, : ; 5 : Fee cata) Trustees and Officers of the Mmetiute 1666" 1887, : , ; ov Genius and Mental Disease—William G. Stevenson, M.D., . 5 a) Pre-Historic Man in America—James M. DeGarmo, Ph.D., : 87 Ruined Castles in Asia Minor—Rev. Edward Riggs, : : E> @88 Sixth Annual Meeting of the Institute, May 3, 1887, . ; : 110 Treasurer’s Report, 0 5 é ; : ‘ ; ; : 5) tld) President’s Report, : : : 111 Trustees and Officers of fhe Institute—1887- 1888, ; : : lls) PART II. Officers of the Scientific Section—1885-1887, . 5 : 5 ike) The Quiché Story of Creation—Charles B. Warring, Ph. De : 119 Geodes—Prof. William B. Dwight, . : Pe 27 The Periodic Law of the Elements—LeRoy C. eaoler Ph, Dik 127 The Axioms of Geometry—F. Monteser, Ph.D., ‘ . 128 Decomposition of the Element Divan LaRay C. Cooler Ph, Dy, eles Primordial Rocks of the Wappinger Valley Limestones— Prof. William B. Dwight, . ‘ ; 130 The Interpretation of Genesis—Charles B. Warring Ph. D.. : . 14 The Top—Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., . : 5 ; Qe” The Nicaragua Canal—Capt. Henry C. Taylor, U. S. N. : . 160 Officers of the Scientific Section—1886-1887, : : og i Earthquakes—William G. Stevenson, M.D., . : . 189 Primordial Rocks of the Wappinger valley Taimectones! anni Associate Strata—Prof. William B. Dwight, . a 206 From Coal Tar to the Alizarine Dyes—LeRoy C. Cooley, Ph.D., 214 On the Use of Iodine in Blowpiping-—Mr. Charles L. Bristol, 5 vila! Bacteria—Miss Isabel Mulford, 5 3 222 New Stars in Andromeda and Onions Mar y W. Wihineys . 241 The Evolution of Continents—Charles B Warring, Ph.D., ; 256 The Cutting at Croton Point, N Y.—Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., 274. Curator’s Report— 1887, : : : : ; : 4 ; . 218 Chairman’s Report—1887, : § 3 : : 280 Officers of the Scientific Section—1887- 1888, ; : : & » 282 TRUSTEES. 1885-1886. JoHN Guy VASSAR, S. M. BuckIncHaM, JOACHIM ELMENDORFE, WILLIAM B. Dwieut, CHARLES N. ARNOLD, LERoy C. Cooiey, 1886-1887. JOHN Guy VASSAR, S. M. BuckInGHAM, * WiLuiaAmM B. DwiaGut, CHARLES N. ARNOLD, WiLiiAmM. T. REYNOLDS, CHARLES B. HERRICK, Wm. G. STEVENSON, EDWARD ELswortu, Henry V. PELTON, JHARLES B. HERRICK, A. P. Vaw GIxEson, WILLIAM T. REYNOLDS. Wm. G. STEVENSON, EDWARD ELSwortnH, Henry V. PELTON, A. P. Vaw GrEson, LERoy C. Cooury, Kvan R. WILLIAMS. OFFICERS OF THE INSTITUTE. 1885-1886. Wma. G. STEVENSON, M.D., Mr. Henry V. PELTON, Mr. CHARLES L. BRISTOL, Mr. Epwarp ELswortn, Pror. WiLi1AM B. Dwicut, Pror. Henry VAwn INGEN, Mr. Irvine ELTING, 1886-1887. Wm. G. Stevenson, M.D., Mr. Henry V. PELTON, Mr. CHARLES L. BRISTOL, Mr. Epwarp ELSwortTH, Pror. Witi1am B. Dwieut, Pror. Henry VAN INGEN, Mr. Irvine ELTING, President. Vice President. Secretary. Treasurer. Curator. Art Director. Librarian. President. Vice President. Secretary. Treasurer. Curator. Art Director. Librarian. TRANSACTIONS OF VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE, 1885-1886. NOVEMBER 10, 1885—TWENTY-EIGHTH REGULAR MEETING. Forty members and two hundred guests present. ANNUAL- ADDRESS. INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. BY WILLIAM G. STEVENSON, M.D., PRESIDENT OF THE INSTITUTE. Members of the Institute, Ladies and Gentlemen : As a sentient, perceptive, and self-conscious being, man has ever sought to interpret the phenomena of the world around, and to solve the mysteries of his own existence ; and the interpretations which have been given at dif- ferent times may be illustrated by the myths and legends of the past, by the scope and progress of specu- lative thought, and by the generalizations of inductive reasoning. These are the pictures in the gallery of thought, the visions—grotesque and sublime—which re- flect man’s ideal conceptions of nature. To primitive man the world was only what the senses made it; and, in the absence of knowledge, the interpre- tations of nature depended upon the freaks of an ex- travagant fancy. The world was filled with mystic dei- ties, made after the similitude of man, and beasts, and 6 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. birds; and the air, earth, and water teemed with unsub- stantial gods—the workmanship of a capricious imagi- nation. To the Greek mind of Homeric days the earth was pic- tured as a small, flat, circular plain—extending from the inaccessible lands of the happy Hyperboreans on the north to the African deserts on the south, and from an indefinite India on the east to the Pillars of Hercules on the west; while the River Ocean, unruffled by storm or tempest, surrounded all. Fancy placed above this plain a brazen dome, in which were set the sun, and moon, and stars, moving in their courses under and around the disk-like earth. To the north were the lofty mountains, from whose caverns the ‘‘piercing blasts of the north wind” rushed forth in their chilling fury, and where Cimmerian dark- ness covered all with the gloom of an eternal night. The enchanted islands of Circe and Calypso, and the floating island of Eolus, lay to the west of Sicily ; and the entrance to the infernal regions was north of the Pillars of Hercules. The Elysian fields—radiant with summer and fanned by gentle zephyrs—were far beyond the known boundaries of the earth; where, too, were found the gardens of Hesperides, with their golden apples guarded by singing nymphs and a sleepless dragon. The sea—now known as the Mediterranean— divided the earth into two nearly equal parts: Greece was the central land, and Olympus, with brow above the clouds,—bathed in constant sunshine—was the moun- tain home of the gods. With the growth of knowledge a restraining influ- ence was thrown, by the reason, around the imagination ; which, as if seeking to make amends for its own riotous workings by giving to the future imperishable records of the past, gathered its mystic deities from the field and sky, mountain and river; and, with the magic wand WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 7 of art, transformed them into speechless marble, or, with poetic fire, described them in immortal verse. Mythology, with all its illusions, was, nevertheless, a legitimate result of the subjective method of interpre- ting natural phenomena. Man saw with the eye, and not through it; and sought to harmonize objective facts with ideal conceptions, which were based on neither ac- curate observation nor verified knowledge. In this connection, it is well to keep in mind the im- portant fact that correct reasoning and healthy imagi- nation depend upon ‘‘accurate perception and exact memory.”’ ‘‘Knowledge is the perception of relations,’ and this implies ability to distinguish differences, which depends upon accurate observation. An imperfect perception of an object gives to the mind false data, by which reason is distorted, and im- agination—freed from the controlling influence which observation imposes upon it—degenerates into fancy. _The earth becomes thereby a fairyland, peopled with chimera, satyrs, and sirens. The subjective method reached its highest philosophi- cal expression in the teachings of Plato, wherein we learn that objects are only inexact material embodiments of ideas,—‘‘unsubstantial shadows”? without reality, and, therefore, our knowledge of the external world is to be attained not by observation, but by simple reflection. The human mind, with all its varying shades of thought, thus became the measure of the universe, and the inter- pretations of nature rested, not upon the verities of the world around, but upon the conceptions formed when the mind contemplated itself alone. This idealism, so flattering to the vain conceit of man, robbed nature of her unity and truth, and seriously re- tarded the progress of knowledge. Gradually the tide of thought rolled on until Aristotle 8 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. —the loftiest mind of the ancient world—reversed the idealistic methods of the past and, on the basis of ob- served facts, proclaimed the laws of deductive reason- ing. The known facts of nature were, however, too few to enable him to make a generalization which would, to any great extent, embrace the phenomena of the physi- cal world, and, although he believed the earth to havea globular form, his speculative thought yet made it the fixed center of the universe, around which the sun, moon and other planets revolved. To the master minds of the Alexandrian school, be- longs the honor of first organizing and applying the principles of inductive science to the interpretation of physical phenomena. Pure reason found its noblest expression in the science of mathematics, which the genius of Euclid had created ; while the foundations of mechanics and hy- draulics were firmly established by the discoveries of Archimedes. More extended knowledge enabled Hro- tosthenes to free geography from the mythical legends which encumbered it; and inspired him to attempt, even with imperfect data, to measure the circumference of the earth, while to the mental vision of Hipparchus the vault of heaven, hitherto so circumscribed, ex- panded into the amplitudes of space; wherein, as a mere atom, the earth was seen rotating on its own axis as it moved onward around the sun. Notwithstanding the achievements of the intellect, and the perceptions—faint though they were—of law and order in the material world, Greek philosophy had no revelation concerning man himself, which satisfied the human heart, and, although for a time sustained by the brilliancy of Arabian culture, it did not survive in the presence of the new faith, which, with exalted ideal- ism, taught the brotherhood of man, and enticed all by the promise of a happy life hereafter. WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 9 The ethics of Paganism were outranked by the ethics of Christianity, and religion contested for supremacy over philosophy. Unhappily, in its efforts to ennoble man, faith ab- solved itself from reason and alienated the intellect by denying liberty of thought to the human mind. The rich legacy of truth, which had been received from the Pagan world, was cast aside, and nature was no longer interpreted according to any standard of verified know]- edge, but by scripture texts which were made to har- monize with the abstractions of the monastery. Belief stifled inquiry and dogma supplanted reason, and, for over a thousand years, an ignorant credulity dominated the human mind and intellectual darkness brooded over the world. This was, however, but the ebbing tide of thought, not its death; the transformation of reason into emotion ; the materialization of faith into the objects of its adora- tion. The principle of conservation applies to mental as well as to physical affairs, and *‘ fosters the eternal vital process of advancing reason.” The germs of knowledge, which had been scattered from the intellectual watch-towers of Athens and Alex- andria, of Grenada and Cordova, came floating down through the murky atmosphere of the middle-ages, until, under the energizing influences of the great geo- graphical discoveries of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, they developed into a grand renaissance of thought, and it was again demonstrated that the world was more than the senses made it, and that the horizon of truth extended far beyond the mental perspective ot the past. W hen the anchor dropped from the prow of Magellan’s ship in the harbor of San Lucar, it carried with it to the bottom of the sea the false Patristic doctrine that the earth is flat. Then it was that the picture, which nature 10 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. herself had so many times painted upon the moon dur- ing an eclipse, was understood ; the shadow was a mes- senger of light; a revelation of a truth; an appeal to reason. Del-Cano had completed the circumnavigation of the earth, and verified the fact that it was indeed spherical inform. Then the objective world, so greatly enlarged by the navigators of the age, ‘‘ began to assume a prepon- derating force over the mere creations of the mind.” New lands and seas with forms of life so strange and wonderful, new skies and stars filled the mind with an enthusiasm which found expression in the marvelous advance of mathematical and astronomical science in the seventeenth century, by which Copernicus was en- abled to remodel the Ptolemaic system, and Kepler to formulate the laws of planetary motions, while Newton, interpreting these laws, bound with the force of gravity the swinging atom and the rushing world. Alhazen had known this force as it applied to terrestrial matter, but it was the glory of Newton to see it holding the universe in the bonds of unity, and to determine the measure and method of its action. The telescope of Galileo brought to human vision worlds hitherto unknown, and the ‘‘discovery of Jupi- ter’s moons marks an important epoch in the history of celestial physics ;”’ for the shadow cast by the occultation of these moons became the revealing messenger of light’s velocity, and upon this knowledge depends ‘‘ the inter- pretation of the aberration ellipse of the fixed stars in which the great orbit of the earth in its annual course round the sun, is, as it were, reflected on the vault of heaven.” A century later, more powerful lenses broke the dim, blending light of nebulae into multitudes of glittering suns, while the spectroscope has gathered the waves of WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. ia light from the secret chambers of distant space, and from them learned the history of the stars. The imagination of Laplace, leaping beyond the limits of sensory perception, saw cosmic matter ‘‘ without forna and void’’ integrating into worlds, and law and order were seen reigning throughout the material universe. Astrology had been supplanted by astronomy. While physical philosophy was thus engaged in measuring space and magnitudes, and interpreting the laws of cos- mic phenomena, its companion science, chemistry, was slowly putting aside the swaddling clothes of alchemy, which had so long—though vainly—sought to trans- mute the baser metals into gold, to discover the philoso- pher’s stone, and find the elixir of life. Alchemy did not analyze substances; it simply decomposed them : and it had no knowledge of the ultimate composition of the different forms of matter. Paracelsus and Van Helmont, even Boyle and Stahl, although innovators of the ‘‘sacred art,’’ were but the ‘incubators of chemistry.’? And not until the balance and the test-tube, in the hands of Black, Priestly, Cav- endish, and Scheele, had, by analysis, laid the founda- tion of quantitative chemistry, was the hope justified that the intrinsic properties of matter, and the laws of atomic combinations, would be revealed. New facts, through analysis, accumulated, until Dal- ton, in 1804, suggested the atomic theory as a new means of interpreting phenomena. ‘This theory was soon promulgated under the generalization known as the law of Avogadro or Ampére; and from this dates the birth of modern chemistry. When Rumford and Davy experimentally demon- strated that. heat was but a ‘‘mode of motion,’ and when Joule, in 1850, determined its mechanical equiva- lent, and established the law of thermo-dynamics, it was for the tirst time possible to make a classification which a2 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. would embrace the known facts relating to heat, light, electricity, and magnetism. Then also came the deduc- tion of those universal laws known as the correlation and conservation of energy. The outlines of the earth’s surface had been sketched by the navigators of the fifteenth and sixteenth centu- ries, but the history of its structure remained unknown. There was no one who could read the record of the rocks, or describe the method by which its valleys had been dug, its mountains raised, and its architecture made so grand and beautiful. The pictured forms of life upon the stone—Whence came they? What are they / By what cunning device did nature’s brush paint them, or her burin engrave them, or her chisel carve these forms so real and life-like? How came these casts of or- ganic things, arranged with special types in special places, and what is the chronological order of events ? Tt was not until the early part of the present century that any systematic effort was made to interpret any of these things. Theories there were, but they had no basis in facts, and reflected only the troubled dreams of the astrologer who, displaced from the heavens by the telescope, found for a time a hiding place in the recesses of the rocks, and in the caverns of the earth. Within the short period of half a century the increase of geo- logical knowledge has revealed the mysteries of the earth and told the story of its creation. The revelation of truth thus ‘‘gathered from one small sphere, is the deciphered law of all spheres,” and evidence is given that the principle upon which rests the interpretation of all physical phenomena, is matter af- fected by the uniform and constant operation of cosmic forces. Notwithstanding the progress made in accumulating and generalizing the facts relating to animal life, our WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 13 knowledge is as yet too imperfect and fragmentary to admit of a classification of biological! phenomena which will represent a complete history of adult life as related to its personal and ancestral development. So long as the dogma of the ‘‘ constancy of species’’ was accepted —which ‘excludes any natural relationship”? between different species—it was possible to make a morphologi- eal classification which would satisfy the intellectual demands of the days of either Aristotle or Linnzeus. The sciences of comparative anatomy and embryology were then unknown, and such important factors, in the analysis or synthesis of organic life, as ‘ differentiated,” ‘homologous’? and ‘‘rudimentary”’ organs had no meaning; neither was there knowledge of the trans- forming influence of environment nor of the potency of inheritance, in fixing and transmitting the changes wrought in the organism. Cuvier knew not the methods of development, but only the anatomy of the matured structure. His inves- tigations, however, proved the existence of extinct forms of life, whose characters were intermediate between dis- tinct groups of existing forms, and therein were laid the foundations of paleeontology. Bichat inaugurated the study of tissues, and the functions or dynamics of the bodily organs. Von Baer, in 1827, discovered the mammalian ovule, made embryology the basis of anatomical classification and established the biological ‘‘law of differentiation froma general towards a special form; while Agassiz showed that ‘‘in some cases, the older forms preserve, as permanent features, structural characters which are embryonic and transitory in their living congeners.” Then came the patient toil of Darwin in gathering, analyzing and classifying the facts which nature so lav- ishly furnished to him, until he was able to enunciate the theory of variations in nature through *‘ natural se- 14 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. lection,’ and formulate the laws of biological evolution. This generalization, resting as it does upon the truths of inductive science, gives to the mind a picture of nature’s unity, completeness and design throughout the cycle of life. Thus has observation caused the belief that the phe- nomena of the world are not isolated, but related; and that its methods are not capricious, but orderly. The idea of ‘‘law’’ has shadowed that of special in- terference, and a broader classification deals with rela- tions rather than things. The relations existing between the worlds of matter and of life, which more completely show the unity of nature, are not necessarily determined by the physical or functional character of the objects related, nor by the origin or mode of development of their physical struc- tures; but by the finer and deeper relations of adapta- tion and adjustment by which the action of physical forces upon the organism are necessary for the expres- sion and maintenance of vital phenomena. The pull of gravity, which defines the orbits of the stars and bounds the ocean’s tides, also influences the beating heart and the flowing blood. So delicately has nature adapted organs and adjusted forces, that the pulses of the air break upon the ear as sound, and ethe- real tremors are interpreted by the mind as heat, light, and actinic force. From the sensations resulting from the impressions made by external physical forces spring ideas, feeling, will; and in the classified relations of such profound differences is found the evidence which establishes the highest form of nature’s unity. Here ends the power of inductive science. It explains the phenomena of matter and of life, by classifying facts. and by giving a formula for an ‘‘ entire order of phe- nomena ;”’’ but it does not explain the verities that WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 15 lie behind the phenomena which are presented to the senses or perceived by the intellect. The course of the falling stone or the blazing star is explained by ‘‘gravity’’—but what is gravity? and chemical affinity and life—what are they? We recog- nize some of their passing effects, but their essential natures are riddles we cannot solve. When nature is interrogated she answers—not in words, but signs ; the rocks give record of her years, and the skies measure the infinitudes of her vastness ; she emerges from the deep darkness of the past and, in her giant strength, throws into space revolving worlds, and marks their courses by the rays of light ; she paints her beauty on the hills and vales, pours sweetness in the flowers and fills the earth with joy and gladness ; but, though closely scanned, nature reveals not the secret of her power —the where, the whence, the whither of her live. The mystic threads of energy and matter, which have been so skillfully woven into the grand fabric of the universe, have been traced by the human intellect through many forms of life and worlds ; but the power that spins these threads and puts them upon the shut- tles of nature is not discerned by the microscope nor tel- escope, neither can the balance measure the wisdom that has designed the symmetric beauty of the world. That, however, which lies beyond the jurisdiction of in- ductive science, speculative thought seeks to reach through the still broader generalizations of philosophy, which represent the highest synthetic achievement of reason. It was the abuse of the deductive method, the attempt to reason, either without objective facts or from data that were not true, which brought it into disrepute ; and the abuse of the inductive method—the toleration of an unwarranted tyranny of the senses over reason— can only retard mental progress. aG INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. If, in its self-asserting pride, the human mind has, at times, closed the avenues of the senses, through which the physical world becomes known, and, as a result of the abuse of the deductive method, declared that the earth rests upon the back of a turtle; that, in the begin- ning, all life forms sprang from nothing into perfect being ; that the ocean’s tides are but the breathings of the live monster-earth ; that comets are heralds of di- vine wrath to an impenitent world ; that eclipses are ex- pressions of nature’s grief because of some human ca- lamity ; and that no steam vessel could ever cross the Atlantic—if such gross errors are to be ascribed to the deductive method, it is, likewise, true that the path of inductive reasoning is strewn with the wrecks of dis- carded theories, imperfect observations, and erroneous interpretations of facts in nature. When inductive science, exulting in its brilliant achievements, points to the starry heavens and tells the _ revelations it has made, it remains for the deductive rea- soning of Newton to declare the universal law of gravi- tation, by which atoms aggregate to suns and worlds are held in their orbits. If the telescope of Herschel dis- covered the planet Uranus, it was, nevertheless, the cal- culating, deductive reasoning of Leverrier that located Neptune far beyond. Inductive science may, by means of the spectroscope, read in the rays of light the history of the stars, but it was the glory of Laplace to proclaim —through deductive reasoning—the laws of cosmic evo- lution, and to trace the changing forms of matter from the glowing vapor to a solid world. Inductive science may justly claim high honor for many and marvelous discoveries in the domain of organic nature, but the grand generalization of life phenomena, under the for- mulated laws of biological development, is a masterly deduction from inductive facts. Scientific methods are largely inductive, and apply to WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 17 the ‘‘ various departments of phenomena”’ in all their parts and reciprocal relations as antecedent and se- quence; while philosophy is deductive in its method, and seeks to group the orders of phenomena into a cos- mic whole, and learn the laws of their relations. There should be, therefore, no reprisals between these two methods of attaining truth, for they are mutually dependent, and, in their co-operative action, reflect the highest possibilities of thought. Notwithstanding the triumphs of mind in the realms of material phenomena—it has not transcended the boundaries of relative knowledge, nor lifted the veil that hides the omnipotent power of the universe. Toward the unfathomed mysteries beyond, the philosophic atti- tude of the mind is one not of deep assurance but of calm expectancy, and the question is yet asked, as by the Roman procurator of old—‘* What is truth ?”’ Philosophy has no key which can reveal the truth of things in themselves, ‘‘ but only as they are related to our intelligence.’’ Neither can the finite understanding know the infinite ; yet as the grand body of truth em- braced in geometrical science starts from axioms which are assumed to be true, but which can not be so demon- strated,—so philosophy—while it cannot show the es- sential nature of the substratum which constitutes the basis of objective realities,—cannot even ‘‘prove the existence of an external world,’’—it nevertheless postu- lates the existence of an Ultimate Reality that trans- cends the conceptions of the mind, as the one essential factor for all philosophical reasoning ; and, by logical processes,—the mind sweeps its curves of thought along lines of least resistance, until every where in nature is felt the influence of an intelligent power, whose exist- ence cannot be denied, although its essence may not be- defined. 18 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. This intelligent power is God. If, in a moment of careless thought, any one should feel that a deduction which proclaims the existence of such a power is an absurdity—because it, at the same time, admits the impossibility of defining its real nature —let him reflect upon the facts in the physical world which are demonstrated as true, but are, nevertheless, incomprehensible, also. Light, for example, in its physical aspect, is a vibra- tory movement of a material medium called ‘‘zther,” which transmits the tremors caused by a luminous body at the rate of one hundred ninety thousand miles in a second. In the scientific use of the imagination we see this ether filling every space between worlds and molecu- les—pervading everything ‘‘as freely as the air moves through a grove of trees.’ We see the particles, which, as attenuated forms of matter, constitute this ether, in motion. These ethereal tremors, these dancing atoms, impinge upon our senses, and are revealed to us as radi- ant heat, or light, or actinic force, acoor eine to the rapid- ity of their motion. The colors of the visible spectrum—which give such variegated beauty to nature—also depend upon the number of times, per second, these ethereal waves beat against the eye. What, then, is this medium called ether, which thus throbs and pulsates, and transmits the thrill of worlds with such velocity? How shall we define that of which the senses give no knowledge ; which has neither smell nor taste, and can not be felt, heard nor seen? Shall we speak of it as matter when, to the senses, the known properties of matter cannot be found? Let us call it the vapor of cosmic atoms which defies the senses, and remains an unmeasured factor in the equation of the universe. By processes of pure reasoning, that which thus WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 19 eludes the senses, is, nevertheless, proved to be a mate- rial reality—although its nature has not been defined. The phenomena of light, as interpreted by the undu- latory theory of Young, establish the fact that ‘‘light is not a substance, but a process going on in a substance ;’’ and, reasoning from verified data, proof is given that this substance which is capable of transmitting energy, must itself possess the physical properties of elasticity and density, and, therefore, be a form of matter. But what form? Here analogical reasoning leads to uncertainty ; for a medium that fills all space and trans- mits energy, even in an atmospheric vacuum, suggests the idea of ‘‘extreme tenuity,’’ which indicates a ‘‘ den- sity that is almost infinitesimal ;”’ this means that the particles, which constitute this medium, are, themselves, not only ‘‘mathematical zeros in weight,’’ but, also, that they are separated from each other by regions of empty space. A medium having such a molecular constitution, however, cannot transmit the energy of light, and this contradiction of facts necessitates a rejection of the idea of a medium of-extreme tenuity. On the other hand, the fact that light is transmitted at the rate of one hun- dred ninety thousand miles in a second, compels us to regard this transmitting medium which—to the senses —is so ‘‘impalpable, invisible, and imponderable,’’ as in reality ‘‘a medium infinitely more compact than the most solid substances which can be felt and weighed.”’ It forced Sir John Herschel to conceive it not as an air, nor as a fluid, but as a solid—‘‘in this sense, at least, that its particles cannot be supposed as capable of inter- changing places, or of bodily transfer to any measurable distance from their own special and assigned locality in the universe ;’’ this would give to this medium a consti- tution not molecular but continuous, and make it a solid whose density is greater than steel. The earth is thus united to the worlds in space by > 20 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. bridges of adamant, which bear to and fro the messen- gers of light and radiant heat with the rapidity of thought. We know, therefore, that a cosmic medium—called. ether—exists because of certain definite effects produced by its agency; but, beyond this, the real mystery re- mains. If, therefore, reason is able to establish as a material fact something which cannot be observed by the senses, and which is known only because certain physical phe- nomena cannot be explained without its agency, there is nothing ‘‘absurd”’ in deducing from the facts in na- ture the existence of an intelligent, creative power in the universe ‘‘in whom we live, and move, and have our being.” This deduction is a lawful product of reason, a legitimate postulate of philosophy, when the evidence of an intelligent power, as manifested in ‘‘design in na- ture,’ is fully analyzed. Such has been the general belief of man, although en- tertained as an article of faith rather than as a convic- tion established by evidence. When, therefore, modern science, by its discoveries, readjusted the relation of things, and revised the inter- pretation of phenomena, it forced faith from its ancient moorings, and disturbed thereby the SONI of thought and of belief. In the confusion and uncertainty naturally attending this readjustment of theories and beliefs, some there were who. bounded the possibilities of truth by the nar- row limit,of their conception of things; and assumed— for they could not prove—that matter and physical foree—unconditioned—were the only agencies required in the evolution of worlds and life. This is a philosophical absurdity, because, in alleging self-existence, causation and beginning are denied, which is unthinkable. WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 21 Others with broader thought—although having no knowledge of life independent of matter—exclaim with Tyndall—‘‘ Here the vision of the mind authoritatively supplements the vision of the eye. By an intellectual necessity I cross the boundary of the experimental evi- dence, and discern, in that matter which we, in our ig- norance of its latent powers, and notwithstanding our professed reverence for its creator, have hitherto covered with opprobrium—the promise and potency of all -terrestrial life.’ But listen—he further says—‘‘ Our states of consciousness are symbols of an outside entity which produces them and determines the order of their succession, but the real nature of which we can never know. In fact the whole process of evolution is the manifestation of a power absolutely inscrutable to the intellect of man,” ‘‘as little in our day, as in the days of Job, can man by searching find this power out.”’ This is an expression of intellectual integrity exceed- ingly refreshing to reflecting minds, for, while within the limits of the material world everything is seen originating from physical antecedents, by methods so uniform and invariable that we call these methods ‘““laws,’’ there is nevertheless an existence of some reality, some inscrutable power back of all matter and all force, in relation to which no predicatecan be formed. Philosophy and science are in accord concerning the existence of a reality beyond the material expressions of nature, as revealed to the human mind, and it re- mains to ask if this reality is an intelligence that oper- ates, as an efficient cause, through definite means to the attainment of definite ends ? This must be answered by the evidences of design as manifested in the universe. The testimony given by nature is, however, suscepti- ble of different interpretations according to the stand- point of the observer, which enables him to behold 22 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. either the whole or only a part of the series of trans- forming views as the grand pageant of life moves by. Hence it is that our ideas of final causes have been modified as knowledge has increased, and hence, also, our convictions concerniog desigu in nature have been shaken by the facts upon which the theory of natural: selection rests. Laplace thought that there was no room for final causes in the presence of data which enable us to explain problems scientifically, and Dr. Whewell, the champion of design, thinks it is no longer applicable to the inor- ganic world. I confess I do not understand the logic which denies design to physical phenomena, simply because the in- herent properties of matter, and the laws of energy con- struct a universe without need of special interference. A broader view will see the design far back of that which is incident to our mental vision, at creation’s dawn when steadfastness was first given to the atoms from whose combinations the universe was built, and ‘ which, amidst the crash and ruin of worlds, shall ‘‘re- main unbroken and unworn.’’ Nevertheless, since its own champions have withdrawn design from the domain of inorganic nature and placed it in the keeping of organic forms, let us examine some of the evidence used for and against its retention in the evolution of life. For it, and constituting its strength, is the evidence of adaptation and utility of special organs, for special purposes. So profound has been the conviction that an intelli- gent, designing mind is necessary ‘‘for the contriving and determining of the forms which organized bodies bear,” and that each organ has been specially and di- rectly created for a definite function, that Paley unre- servedly rested the entire question of design upon the facts of human anatomy. WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. De The eye, the ear, the hand—each organ was made in all its present perfection for a special and individual purpose ; and, as the mechanism of a watch proves the existence of design—and a designer, so the more won- drous mechanism of the bodily organs proves that they are the immediate products of a creating, designing mind. Admitting, as I do, that forethought is apparent in the structural plans of life, and that there is evidence of contrivance in the harmonious adjustment of all its varied phenomena, it is, nevertheless, impossible to un- derstand design—reflecting as it does the last expression of antecedent purpose—until the interlacing threads of law have been traced hither and thither through their many and complex relations. The discovery of the relationship of facts which bear witness to the unity of nature should, therefore, precede all deductions pertaining to design. What idea, for example, of adaptation or design could have been en- tertained by Aristotle when he ignorantly stated that lions and wolves have but one neck-bone, for the reason, he says, that ‘‘nature saw that these animals wanted the neck more for strength than for other pur- poses.’’ To try to tell why nature has done a thing is, at any time, an intellectual performance of doubtful merit, but to try to do it in the absence of definite knowledge of related facts is an extravagant violation of intellectual integrity. Design in the structure of the solar system was hardly a debatable question pre- vious to the times of Kepler and Newton. The weakness of the argument of design has always been that its champions have failed to trace the methods by which nature has wrought the mystic patterns of living things, or to recognize the power of the inherent laws or properties of matter, and the influences of envi- 24 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. ronment which are necessary and modifying agencies in the teleology of life. In the interpretation of these silent powers Darwin be- came the seer of the age. The facts gathered by his pa- tient toil have revolutionized thought, and substituted, in the place of special creation and immediate design, the conception of necessity through the operation of natural laws, whereby ends are attained of which no prophetic utterance can be made. This excludes ‘‘ the agency of an intelligence in which the image or idea of the end precedes the use of means,’’ and is, therefore, in seeming conflict with the view commonly entertained. The doctrine of design, as commonly understood, fails, however, to explain too many things to justify us in longer accepting the narrow limits of its application, or to believe that human anatomy alone proves its truth. It fails to explain the progressive stages of human anatomy during its embryological period, and its devia- tions from the common bodily construction, or to tell why it is that deformities, imperfections, monstrosities or reversions occur. Where is the purpose, or what is the design in those human monsters, those brute-appearing forms, which come from some arrested development during embryonic life? Or in those anomalous conditions—existing even in adult life—wherein bodily organs betray their lowly origin? Where is the purpose and what is the design in those abortive or rudimentary, or homologous or- gans found throughout the vegetable and animal king- dom, whose apparent uselessness makes them strong witnesses against ‘‘design’’ in their existence? If ‘“‘adaptation and utility are the marks of design,’ what shall be said in relation to those organs of human anatomy which are entirely useless in man, although of use in some lower animals? What is the purpose or design in the extravagant waste of seed, eggs and germs—from WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 25 which plants and animals come? Why should a million perish and but one survive % I do not stop to name the individual facts, illustrative of these points, which speak so strongly against design and present difficulties which are insuperable on any theory of the direct and independent creation of species. Notwithstanding this negative evidence against de- sign, I am convinced that it is a truth and that an intel- ligent power works through definite means to the attain- ment of definite ends; and the reason why we so often err in our conceptions of this truth is because we can not always determine from an act, ora result, the purpose or place associated therewith. We see a boomerang thrown forward, but this act does not reveal the purpose of him who threw it, which was to strike an object stand- ing in an opposite direction ; this purpose can only be inferred when we know the deflecting force which is in- herent, when a stick having peculiar curves is thrown in a certain manner. The position of the rudder will not alone enable us to tell the exact direction of the boat, for the pilot has esti- mated the deflecting force of winds and tides and placed the helm in accordance therewith. These deflecting forces are known as natural laws, whose method of act- ing it is the object of science to determine; they are the influences of environment and inheritance—those silent but ever-present potencies—which modify organic forms and conceal the direct evidences of design by the com- plexity of their operations. When, therefore, I speak of ‘“‘necessity,’’—in contradistinction to ‘* design,’’—as the directing force of means to an end, I mean simply the action of these secondary causes: those which exist in the nature of things ; the natural laws of the universe ; the inherent and inexplicable properties of elementary and organized matter; the phenomena which may be compassed by the human intellect. 26 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. In seeking to explain these laws—the growth of living things, the changes wrought by natural selection and re- version, the conflicts of life in the pressing struggle for existence, the survival of some and the destruction of many—the doctrine of evolution seeks only to interpret phenomena .and the laws of their succession ; to know methods, not purposes. It enters not into the secret councils of creative cause. Its teachings seem to me eminently teleological, although, in the action of sec- ondary causes, they regard mechanical necessity alone. By the operation of these natural causes, the explana- tion is found for the many apparent contradictions of design. It is, indeed, true that evolution alters our concep- tions of the relations of a creative and superintending intelligence in the world; but it does not deny its exist- ence. Indeed, as I have already stated, such an exist- ence is the first and most essential postulate of all philo- sophical reasoning. Professor Huxley well says: ‘‘ Perhaps the most re- markable service to the philosophy of biology rendered by Mr. Darwin is the reconciliation of teleology and morphology, and the explanation of the facts of both, which his views offer.’ ‘‘The teleological and me- chanical views of nature are not, necessarily, mutually exclusive. On the contrary, the more purely a me- chanist the speculator is, the more firmly does he assume a primordial molecular arrangement, of which all the phenomena of the universe are the consequences; and the more completely is he there by at the mercy of the teleologist, who can always defy him to disprove that the primordial molecular arrangement was not intended to evolve the phenomena of the universe.” Adaptation, contrivance and design—even as we know them—relate to the operations of mind, and the logical continuity of thought requires us to ascribe them—when WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 27 seen in nature—to some thinkable antecedent, even if this lies within the realms of that ‘‘unseen universe’’ which, although unobserved by the senses, is so real to the conscious soul. This thinkable antecedent can only be an intelligent power, and to believe that from its action, the physical and biological order of nature proceeds, is, as it seems to me, an intellectual necessity. This belief brings no ‘‘ permanent intellectual con- fusion,”’ for, in confirming the law of biogenisis that life springs from life, it gives to nature a higher unity and energizes it with a vital principle, a universal intel- ligence which is the efficient cause of all things. And so we come to recognize the transcendence and immanence of a supreme mind in nature, upon which, as an eternal foundation, rests the visible universe. This is the unfathomable mystery of being, concern- ing whose nature science can formulate no theory and philosophy can give no definition, but of whose truth and reality there can be no reasonable doubt. For the evidence which thus convinces the intellect we are indebted to modern science and philosophy. . This fact alone should be a sufficient refutation of the charge so often and so ignorantly made, that the ten- dency of modern science is ‘‘ materialistic’? —implying ‘that mind, in all its manifestations, is simply a product of brain matter, which lives and decays with the physi- cal organization which gives it birth, and, therefore, has no existence after bodily death. Such a statement contains a measure of exactitude, but it represents only one side of a dual truth. The statement embraces two distinct propositions— one pertains to a verifiable fact and, therefore, comes within the purview of science ; the other relates to a de- duction, which cannot be proved in an affirmative man- ner and falls within the scope of metaphysical philoso- 28 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. phy. It isa verifiable fact that every expression of con- sciousness,—every sensation, thought and emotion—is manifested through, and inseparably associated with a nervous mechanism ; it is also a fact that every modifica- tion of this mechanism, every change in its material con- formation—whether wrought by the favorable processes of development or by the repressive influences of injury or disease—affects the expressions of mental life, and thus favors the belief that the conscious mind ‘“‘ has its correlative in the physics of the brain.” Thus far, science feels its way secure, but it ventures no further; it beholds the ‘‘association of two classes of phenomena’’—but it gives no explanation of their ‘‘bond of union.’ ‘*‘ Wedo not possess,’ says Tyndall, ‘the intellectual organ, nor apparently any rudiment of the organ, which would enable us to pass, by a pro- cess of reasoning, from the one to the other. They ap- pear together, but we do not know why. Were our minds and senses so expanded, strengthened, and il- luminated as to enable us to see and feel the very mole- cules of the brain; were we capable of following all their motions, all their groupings, all their electric dis- charges, if such there be; and were we intimately ac- quainted with the corresponding states of thought and feeling, we should be as far as ever from the solution of the problem,—‘ How are these physical processes con- nected with the facts of consciousness?’ The chasm between the two classes of phenomena would still re- main intellectually impassable.’’ ‘‘The passage from the physics of the brain to the corresponding facts of consciousness is unthinkable.”’ That, which thus defies the analytic methods of sci- ence, is presented to the mind of the metaphysical phil- osopher as an independent and immortal soul, having the attributes of personality. This shadowy but real being is associated with and made manifest through the WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 29 human brain; while feeling, action, thought, directed by an imperial will, come upon the stage of life as the products of its working. There is, however, no fact known to inductive or de- ductive reasoning which authorizes the conclusion that, because the brain is the organ of thought and feeling, therefore, they shall perish when it is dead. We cannot, it is true, ‘‘have direct evidence as to the soul’s survival until we ourselves die ;*’ ‘‘but a negative presumption,’ says Fiske, ‘is not created by the ab- sence of proof in cases where, in the nature of things, proof is inaccessible.” It may be that ‘*God never meant that man should scale the heavens By strides of human wisdom.” If man be regarded simply asa ‘“‘local incident, in an endless and aimless series of cosmic changes,’ 1t may well be thought that ‘‘that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts’? . . and ‘‘as the one dieth, so dieth the other.’ But we have seen that cosmic and bi- ologic changes are not aimless; and that an omnipotent intelligence directs the affairs of the universe. There- fore are we persuaded to believe that, while man—so ‘‘fearfully and wonderfully made’’—is, in his bodily perfection, the crowning glory of organic evolution, the human mind—in its actualities and possibilities—is the consummate flower of creative purpose. The mind as a ‘“‘part of the system of nature” 1s ‘specially adapted to the purpose of catching and translating into thought, the light of truth as embodied in surrounding nature,’? and consciousness is a ‘‘ mo- mentum of thought’? which, as Spencer says, ‘‘ carries us beyond conditioned existence to unconditioned ex- istence.’’ 30 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. Independent of any philosophic negations, the logic of moral probabilities is that immortality awaits the human soul. ““Tt must be so. Plato! thou reasonest well, Klse whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself and startles at destruction ? Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; ‘Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter And intimates eternity to man.” The address elicited an interesting discussion by the Revs. Van Gieson, Elmendorf and Loomis; Drs. War- ring and De Garmo, and was closed, as follows, BY REV. H. L. ZIEGENFUSS : Through the courtesy of our president I was allowed, two days ago, to become acquainted with the contents of the paper that has just now been read before you. If we differed more it might enhance the interest in this evening’s discussion, but that we agree so nearly is, to me at least, a cause for sincere congratulation. Itis very gratifying to note on all sides that, as stu- dious men delve down deeper into the depths of nature and become the better acquainted with nature’s laws, their conclusions are couched in terms taken from the psychological domain quite as much as in those taken from the vocabulary of the pure physicist. Some years ago Dr. Biichner wanted only matter and force for the creation of the universe, and of all that therein is. With that asa text he preached the gospel of materialism. It was an attractive gospel. It made things so clear that the uneducated could easily under- stand everything. Man had buta span of life, which began and ended here on earth. Death ends all. The HENRY L. ZIEGENFUSS. ol! only immortality there can be is that of permanence of effect. Not in his spirit but in his deeds man is immor- tal. Whatsoever of truth materialism has to offer we cheerfully accept. We endeavor to be hospitable to the true sons of science. We will acknowledge fact wherever it may be found, and follow it whithersoever it may lead. But the same course of conduct we demand of others. We beg them not to be narrow and exclusive in investigations, contracted in their sympathies, nor blind to certain other obvious facts of nature, even if they be not written down in the book of the chemist or the physicist. For the sake of argument we, also, will begin with matter and force. But what do we really know about these? Matter, we are told, is that which affects our senses. Weare conscious of the effects, but what do we know of the cause? We know certain of the properties of what we call matter, but nothing whatever of its ulti- mate nature and internal atomic constitution. We take a block of ice. Itisasolid ; it has the characteristics that we call weight, density, rigidity, color, coldness, translu- cency, and so on; but these tell us nothing whatsoever of the thing in itself. Apply heat and the solidity dis- appears; it becomes a liquid; rigidity is gone, and transparency takes the place of translucency ; warmth succeeds coldness. Apply more heat, until the condi- tion called steam is reached. Now our aforetime solid matter has become entirely invisible, having apparently lost all those qualities that it had in the form of ice. Or, by electrolysis, let us split up the molecules of wa- ter into its components. On the one side we get oxygen, on the other, hydrogen. But this hydrogen, for instance —what is it? It also, itself, though at ordinary tempera- ture it is a wondrously attenuated gas, has been forced into the liquid, and even into the solid shape. What is 32 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. it? Is it really a Simple element? Or will science yet declare that this primal monad of chemistry is, after all, a compound? There are such indications. And is it really of the nature of a metal—as Graham would have us believe? The indications all lead towards that con- clusion. It must be confessed that absolutely we know nothing whatever of its real nature. And so it isin reference to force. We talk glibly of adhesion, cohesion, gravity, heat, light, magnetism, electricity, chemical affinity, and the like; but we know no more about them than we do of the correlation of thought and brain-matter. We look up at the moon and teli the child that the strong arm of a force that we call gravity holds that satellite a-spinning around the earth. But who of us has any adequate conception of the greatness of that force?’ Round Top, the highest peak of the Catskill mountains, rises three thousand eight hundred four feet above the level of the sea. Lay along the side of the range a bar of steel one mile square. The upper surface of that steel bar will be one thousand four hundred seventy-six feet above the highest point of Round Top. Does that mile-square bar of steel represent the force which is needed to hold earth and moon together? No; it takes, not onesuch bar, nor one hundred such bars of steel, but eightv- seven thousand ? Let us say then that ‘‘in the beginning’’ there were only these two mysteries, matter and force. Let us go back into the early history of this globe. How strangely well for our comfort and highest well-being these strata of the earth’s crust were laid,—happened to be laid. Then, as the conditions became favorable, there came life,—let us say the life represented by a solitary cell of protoplasmic or ante-protoplasmic matter. But what strange potency was there! Matter assumed new 1See Savage's ‘‘ Belief in God,” p. 34. HENRY L. ZIEGENFUSS. 38 form and manifested new force. ‘True, in its first stages, life was of the lowest grade, but it was a new phenom- enon. There came the divergence between animal and plant life. The seaweed came, and the moss, the fern, the conifer, the cycas, the palm, and the angiosperm ; and parallel with these came all the various phases of animal life from the lowest unto the highest. Movement was progress. The appetency was strangely forward and upward. Then came thirst and hunger. Waste ‘called for repair. There was struggle for existence. There was war in those days. Appetite and instinct, born of experience, were made allies. All points of ad- vantage, wh2ther of position, or movement, or color, or form, were quickly siezed. Force gave way to cunning, and cunning gave way to intelligence. From faintest glimmerings came the great warmth and carefulness of love. There came with the soul of man strange fears and hopes. The feeling of devotion struggled to utter itself through him. His soul became restless, and it was ever lured forward by unutterable ideals. And these phenomena of appetite and passion, of love and hope, of self-sacrifice and devotion are facts of nature just as really as are centripetal and centrifugal forces, as are heat and cold, as lightning-flash and auroral flush. Now why has this on-moving change in matter and force ever been upward? Why is there a ‘“‘sur- vival of the fittest??? Why is it that that which we call good and right is always synonymous with well- being? Everywhere and at all times the irrepressi- ble conflict is doomed to work out emancipation and amelioration. The manifest destiny points to perfection and blessedness. Why ¢ Think of it again. In that primal, tenuous fire-mist, were not only the sun, and its planets, not merely this globe with its granitic mountains, the weight of its mobile oceans,—not merely the keenness of frost, the 34 INTERPRETATIONS OF NATURE. flickering of auroral lights, the iridescence of snow-flake and ice-crystal, of water-mist and the nacreous sheen of sea-shells, but also matter most strange in constitution and marvelous in dynamic attribute, the colloidal and vital, the self-determining force of the living thing, the beauty and the cunning of bird and beast, the sweet in- cense of violets and honeysuckles, the potency of thought and love, the heart-stirring words of the prophets, the strivings of man towards freedom, and justice, and moral greatness, the deeds of Runnymede and Yorktown ; yes, there in that fire-mist were the germs of the fairest fruit- age of man’s spirit—the thunderings of express-trains ; the click of the telegraph, the ceaseless rumbling of the press, the sweep of the telescope, the keen searching of the microscope, the revelations of the spectroscope, the ideals of Raphael and Milton, the myriadmindedness of Shakespeare, the downrightness of Browning, and the ‘‘sweet names and foolish nothings’’ that the young mother in happy home croons to her smiling babe—all these were in that primal fire-mist ! This outcome of earth-history and man-history was ‘either foreordained in the germ,—in which case, essen- tial Theism with its logical accompaniments is granted, — or produced by a spiritual environment, involving at least as much as we mean by Theism.’’* Ifit be granted that the light of the sun gradually called forth the eye, then we dare not hesitate to maintain that in like manner a spiritual stimulant called forth the forward look of hope and the upward look of faith and of devo- tion. Pagodas, mosques, cathedrals, hospitals and asy- lums, are as real facts of nature as are coral islands and coal-measures. They are each the resultant of force, ultimately of one force, which is progressive and ever ameliorative. It is a force that eternally makes for per- fection, for well-being, for truth, for greater intelli- 1Savage: ‘ Belief in God,’ p. 168. TRANSACTIONS. 35 gence, for most loving kindliness of disposition and of conduct,—a wise and beneficient force—‘‘a power not ourselves which makes for righteousness,’’? in which we live and move, and have our being—Gop. DECEMBER 1, 1885—TWENTY-NINTH REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., president, in the chair; twelve members and three hundred guests present. _ James M. DeGarmo, Ph. D., gave an address, entitled “The Quakers and their Doctrines,’? which was dis- cussed by Messrs. Heermance, Swan and Stevenson. Mr. A. H. Simpson and Mr. H. D. Hufcut were elected active members. JANUARY 5, 1886—THIRTIETH REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., president, in the chair ; two hundred fifty guests and members present. Prof. Henry Van Ingen gave an address on ‘‘ Ancient Sculpture,’’ illustrated by lantern projections. F. Monteser, Ph. D., was elected an active member. FEBRUARY 2, 1886—THIRTY-FIRST REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., president, in the chair ; four hundred guests and members present. D. B. Simmons, M.D., of Japan, gave an address on ‘*The Social Status of Women in Japan.”’ In behalf of the Institute, the president extended to the speaker a cordial vote of thanks for his interesting address. MARCH 2, 1886—THIRTY-SECOND REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., president, in the chair ; many members and a large number of guests present. 36 AERIAL NAVIGATION. Prof. W. LeConte Stevens, of Brooklyn, N. Y., gave an address—illustrated with lantern projections—enti- tled ‘‘ Aerial Navigation,” of which the following isan abstract : The power to rise above the ground was, among the ancients, regarded as exclusively a divine prerogative. This idea is illustrated in several mythical stories, such as that of Icarus and Daldalus, and the Persian legend of Kai Kaoos, in which disaster is shown to have fol- lowed every human attempt to exercise superhuman power. Friar Bacon (1200-1300 A. D.) claimed the invention of a device for rising into the air, consisting of a thin globe of copper, ‘‘ to be filied with ethereal air, or liquid fire,’ and then launched forth from some elevated point into the atmosphere. He shared in the popular idea that the atmospheric ocean covering the earth had a well- defined boundary like the aqueous ocean, and claimed to believe that his copper globe would float on the upper surface of the air as aship floats on water. No account has been transmitted of any actual experiments by him on this subject, in the preparation of either liquid fire or a globe of suitable dimensions. A Jesuit priest, Father Lana, about 1670, evolved in- dependently Bacon’s idea of using a copper globe, which he rightly supposed capable of being pushed up by the buoyant force of the surrounding atmosphere, if it could be made sufficiently thin and perfectly ex- hausted. He seems to have been aware of the previous experiments of Torricelli and Pascal, and proposed to exhaust his globe by filling it first with water, lifting it toa height exceeding thirty-four feet, attaching a con- trollable tube dipping into water below, and thus pro- ducing a Torricellian vacuum. He calculated the neces- sary diameter of his globe to be about twenty-five feet, and its thickness 34, incli; but he had ‘little conception W. LE CONTE STEVENS. on of the rigidity required to prevent it from breaking under the weight of the contained water if full, or col- Japsing under the pressure of the surrounding air if vacuous. His experiment was not actually tried, but the only valid objection to its probable success that he expressed was ‘‘that the Almighty would never allow an invention to succeed by means of which civil govern- ment could be so easily disturbed.”’ Several unsuccessful attempts were made about the same time to fly by the use of artificial wings, or to sail through the air by attaching to the body a frame-work covered with canvas, like an open umbrella. The fu- tility of all attempts to fly was theoretically demon- strated by Borelli, an Italian physicist, whose posthu- mous work, De Motu Animalium, was published at Rome in 1680. His reasoning was based upon an exam- ination of the muscular adaptation of birds to flight, and a consideration of the mechanical energy implied. He showed that the muscles and bony framework of the human body were far from adequate to do for it the same kind of lifting work that is accomplished by the bird, and hence that athletic training enough for pur- poses of flight was hopeless. In 1766 Cavendish and Watt independently discov- ered the gas hydrogen, the most remarkable property of which was its low specific gravity. Dr. Black, of Edin- burgh, attempted to utilize it for the purpose of causing a gas bag to ascend, but failed to secure a bag that was light enough. Cavallo, in 1782, caused soap bubbles to ascend by filling them with hydrogen. During the latter part of the same year, at Avignon, two paper manutacturers, the brothers Montgolfier, attempted Similar experiments with hydrogen, using large paper bags as receptacles. They failed on account of inability to confine a gas of such high diffusive power within bags of such porous material as paper. Noticing that 38 AERIAL NAVIGATION. clouds of vapor and smoke floated readily in the air, they conceived the idea of substituting these for hydro- gen. Since the publication of Franklin’s investigations on atmospheric electricity in 1752, the idea seemed to gain currency that electricity was an important agent in causing clouds to float in mid-air, and it was this that the Montgolfiers wished to utilize. A paper bag, with a capacity of about forty cubic feet, was held, the open- ing downward, over a fire of chopped straw and wool. It was quickly inflated and carried to the ceiling of the room. The experiment was soon repeated on a larger scale and a successful public exhibition was given at the village of Annonay on the fifth of June, 1783. The Montgolfiers seem to have regarded their success as due to the discovery of a new kind of gas, generated by the burning of straw and wool, rather that to the rarefaction of the air by heating it. The news of the success at Annonay soon reached Paris, where a subscription was at once made up for the purpose of defraying the expense of constructing a bal- loon. The direction of the work was intrusted to Charles, a physicist, who had already become well Known through ‘his investigations in regard to the influence of tempera- ture in modifying the density of gases. Charles at once comprehended the true principle underlying the success of the Montgolfiers, but decided to use hydrogen, con- fining it in a spherical bag, not of paper, but of thin silk varnished with india-rubber. The diameter of this bal- loon was twelve feet. If filled with pure hydrogen, its ascensive force would therefore have been a little over sixty pounds. On account of the defective method of preparing hydrogen at that time employed, much diffi- culty was experienced in inflating the balloon, but an ascent was successfully made on theafternoon of August 27, 1783, from the Champ de Mars, an open space on the outskirts of Paris, south of theriver Seine. It remained W. LE CONTE STEVENS. 39 in the air about forty-five minutes, and was carried away fifteen miles by the wind, reachinga height of rather more than half a mile. In the experiment at Annonay, by the Montgolfiers, the inflation was accomplished in a few minutes, and the balloon remained in the air only fifteen or twenty minutes, the length of its voyage being limited by the rate of cooling of the contained hot air. On account of its quickness of action, the Montgolfier, or fire-balloon, was for some time more popular than the ~ Charliére, or hydrogen balloon. A few weeks after the experiment at the Champ de Mars, Stephen Montgolfier sent up a large flre-balloon at Versailles, in the presence of the king and nobility. A cage was attached to it, containing a sheep, a cock, and aduck. These, the first aeronauts, were carried to a dis- tance of two miles, and reached the ground without special injury. The first ascent by a human being into the air, was made in a fire-balloon by Pilatre de Rozier, a young French naturalist, who succeeded in partially controlling the ascent or descent of the balloon, by vary- ing the amount of fuel with which the fire was kept sup- plied. He lost his life in 1785 by the explosion ofa hydrogen balloon to which a fire-balloon was attached, his intention having been to secure steadiness by the use of hydrogen, and to vary the height by controlling the supply of fuel. Having demonstrated the availability of hydrogen by his experiment on the twenty-seventh of August, Charles undertook the equipment of a new balloon, much larger than the first, for the purpose of ascend- ing with instruments to examine the condition of the atmosphere at a great height. His balloon was provided with a safety-valve, and covered with a net- ting attached to a ring below, from which was sus- pended a car of wicker work. Ballast was provided, so that the weight to be lifted could be diminished at will 40 AERIAL NAVIGATION. by throwing out sand, while the ascensive force could be controlled by means of the valve. This mode of varying the elevation of the balloon was far safer, and in every respect more convenient than that adopted with the fire balloon. An anchor was provided to help in making a successful descent on approaching the ground. Charles ascended to the height of nearly two miles on the first day of December, 1783, the barometer column sinking to 20.05 inches, and the thermometer falling from 41° F. to 21°F. Although this expedition was entirely successful, there is no record of his ever making another ascent. He was the real inventor of the balloon, and perfected it to such an extent that no very important improvement was made during the next two-thirds of a century. It is rather remarkable that after the experiments just described, indicating the rapid development of aerostat- ics in France, the first ascent by a human being in any other country should be in America, so remote from France that the news of Montgolfier’s experiment at An- nonay did not reach here until six months afterward. The American astronomer, David Rittenhouse, at once conceived, independently of Charles, the idea of utilizing hydrogen for ballooning purposes. The Philadelphia newspapers of December 24 contained brief accounts just received in regard to Charles’ experiment of August 27. In association with his friend, Francis Hopkinson, Rittenhouse first tried bladders filled with hydrogen, and then made forty-seven small balloons, which were filled with the same gas. No account has been trans- mitted of the mode of construction adopted. These were fastened around a cage in which animals were placed. This compound balloon was allowed to ascend, but held captive by means of arope. A carpenter, James Wilcox, was then induced to ascend, and the rope was cut. He rose nearly a hundred feet, and descended by cutting in- cisions into several of the balloons. W. LE CONTE STEVENS. 41 Aside from the observations made by Charles during his first and only ascent, no use of the balloon was made for ‘Scientific purposes until after the beginning of the present century. In 1804, Gay Lussac ascended from Paris to a height of more than four miles, where he found clouds still overhead. He brought back speci- mens of air for analysis, which proved to consist of the same ingredients, in the same proportions, as that at the surface. In 1850, Bixio and Barral repeated Gay Lus- sac’s experiment, and with the same result. They ex- perienced sudden and unexpected changes of temper- ature, the thermometer falling from + 15° F., at twenty thousand feet, to — 38° F., at twenty-three thousand feet. In 1861, a committee was appointed by the British As- sociation, and an appropriation made to defray the ex- pense of making a systematic examination of the upper atmosphere by the use of the balloon. The actual work of the committee was done chiefly by Mr. James Glai- sher, who made twenty-eight ascents between 1861 and 1867. In that of September 5, 1862, he reached a height estimated to be thirty-seven thousand feet, incurring great peril in consequence of the extreme cold and the diminished density of the air. He made many obser- vations of great value, which were duly published in his report to the Association. During the early days of ballooning many futile at- tempts were made to propel and direct the aerostat. In- deed prior to 1852, balloon sailing was only aerial drift- ing, and not aerial navigation. Aerostatics was suf- ficiently understood, but aeronautics was still beyond human power. Meanwhile important changes had been made in ocean navigation as a result of the introduction of steam as a motive power for the driving, first of paddle wheels and afterward of screw propellers. In 1852, Giffard, a young French engineer, constructed an 42 AERIAL NAVIGATION. elongated balloon (fig 1) which he inflated with coal gas. Suspended beneath it by cords was a longitudinal shaft, at the end of which was a triangular sail that could be turned about an axis and made to serve the purpose of arudder. Below the shaft was a framework of wood supporting a small steam engine, whose piston gave motion to a screw propeller. He ascended with this to a height of five thousand feet and succeeded in making ys | mmenell FIG. 1. perceptible headway against a strong breeze, besides changing direction at will. Aerial navigation was thus proved to be possible, but this method was abandoned on account of the great danger, similar to that which had caused the death of PilAtre de Rozier, and the dif- ficulty in keeping the weight of the balloon constant. Giffard attained a speed estimated to be about nine miles an hour. W. LE CONTE STEVENS. 43 In 1872, Dupuy de Lome constructed a balloon, much like that of Giffard but larger, and provided with a | FIG. 2. propeller which was to be controlled by hand rather than by steam power. He ascended with a force of four- 44. AERIAL NAVIGATION. teen men and attained a speed estimated at six miles an hour. Muscular power was thus shown to be far too uneconomical to be employed inthe direction of air ships. In 1881, Tissandier, a pupil of Giffard, keeping abreast with the progress of electrical science, conceived the idea of employing storage batteries as the immediate source of energy to actuate the propeller of an elongated balloon. He constructed first a small experimental balloon which he inflated with hydrogen. Upon a light platform beneath it was placed a single storage cell, a Siemens motor, and a propeller (fig. 2, page 43). This was exhibited at the Electrical Exposition of 1881, when FIGa3s a speed of about ten feet per second was attained. He then undertook the preparation of a much larger bal- oon on the same plan (fig. 3), in which he ascended on the eighth of October, 1888. The motor weighed one hundred twenty-one pounds, and was excited by a battery of twenty-four cells, in series, weighing three hundred fifty pounds. Its effective capacity for work W. LE CONTE STEVENS. 45 was about one-and-a-half horse-power, equivalent there- fore to about ten men, while its weight of battery and motor together was little over that of threemen. He attained a speed estimated to be rather more than six miles an hour, but the sail rudder proved to be imper- fect, and interfered with his experiment that was other- wise successful. A year afterward he made another ascent with this balloon and succeeded in attaining a Speed about one-third greater. Meanwhile MM. Renard and Krebs, officers of the French army, were conducting experiments at Chalais- Meudon, near Paris, on the conditions requisite for di- recting balloons, being guided in their studies by the _previous work of Dupuy de Lome. They constructed a balloon (fig. 4, page 46) one hundred sixty-six feet long, twenty-eight feet in its greatest diameter, with a ca- pacity of sixty-seven thousand cubic feet and ascensional power of nearly five thousand pounds when inflated with hydrogen. The motive power was electricity, as with 'Tissandier’s balloon. The propeller is fixed to the ex- tremity of a long shaft and placed at the front, while the rudder, made of cloth, stretched tightly over a frame, is placed at the rear. In form it is symmetrical about a longitudinal axis, but the tapering is more abrupt at front thanrear. The balloonis filled with hydrogen, but within it is a subsidiary balloon, connected by a tube with the cage below, where air can be pumped in or out at pleasure, thus varying slightly the specific gravity of the mass as a whole, and enabling the aeronauts to vary their elevation at will. _ On August 9, 1884, Renard and Krebs ascended with this balloon, made a journey of nearly five miles, changing direction several times, and returning at the end of twenty-three minutes to the point of departure. On the eighth of November of the same year, they made two successful journeys, in the same afternoon, at- UNIT -Adununc ng l oT Tn i | FIG. 4. W. LE CONTE STEVENS. 47 taining a speed estimated to be fifteen miles an hour, in- dependently of the wind, which was blowing at the rate of five miles an hour. Similar journeys were again made on the twenty-second and twenty-third of Septem- ber, 1885; in the last of which a speed was attained slightly in excess of that of the previous year. The problem of aerial navigation, as a practicable and safe means of locomotion in favorable weather, has been definitely solved. But the great expense attendant upon both the construction and the manipulation of the balloon, and the limitation of its use to calm weather, excludes it from competition with other modes of transit currently in use. The aerostat, drifting with the wind or held captive with a rope, has already served an im- portant purpese in time of war. The electric balloon will probably take its place, with the torpedo as a mili- tary appliance, too costly and uncertain for common use, but reserved for special occasions, when great exi- gencies require large expense and great risks. A cordial vote of thanks was extended to Prof. Ste- vens for his interesting address. APRIL 9, 1886—THIRTY-THIRD REGULAR MERTING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., president, in the chair ; many members anda large number of guests present. Truman J. Backus, LL.D., of Brooklyn, N. Y., gave an interesting address entitled ‘‘The Battle of Long Island.” MAY 5, 1886—FIFTH ANNUAL MERTING. William G. Stevenson, M. D., president, in the chair, twenty members present. Capt. H. C. Taylor, U. 8. N., and Mr. C. L. Flanders, were elected active members. 48 CURATOR’S ANNUAL REPORT. Dr. Stevenson, chairman of the committee on museum and library, gave an itemized report of expenditures for the museum and library, amounting to $131.25. Prof. Cooley, chairman of the committee on publica- tion, reported that five hundred copies of ‘‘ Transac- tions’ had been printed. Mr. Elsworth, treasurer, rendered a detailed report of receipts and expenditures for the fiscal year ending May 4, 1886. The following is an abstract : Balanceyintreasuny,) Maiys5)l8Soreeceaceee oe oea ene eee eeee $832 74 Total receipts during the year...) |.) +-) seen eee 1,455 00 4 Y 0) 2) Perens eae eee A AA AUeCte tHe Totud Nene ara A os g $2,287 74 Hotal disbursement) during) thevyear. oe eseeee eee ere $1,478 45 Balance in treasuny,) Mais ASS) retetsleieleele)elelaette sete $809 29 Prof. Dwight, curator of the museum, presented the following report: Your curator would respectfully make the following report for the session which is now closing : The following additions have been made to the museum, by donation : An unnamed collection of shells from Japan, presented by the Minister from Japan. Two specimens of sphalerite in calcite, and two dozen geodes, contain- ing quartz crystals, from Keokuk, Iowa, presented by Mr. Frank Fitchett, through Dr. Stevenson. A few minerals and shells, from localities unknown, presented by Mrs. Ernest Yalden. j Two fossil shark’s teeth, one fossil vertebra of the Zeuglodon whale, one “‘ key-hole” urchin, presented by Dr. R. E. Van Gieson. Some specimens of minerals from the Tilly-Foster mine, presented by Mr. Charles E. Fowler. By exchange, from Dr. De Witt Webb in behalf of the Society of Natural Science, St. Augustine, Florida, through Dr. Stevenson, a large collection of shells, as follows : One slab of shell-limestone, ‘‘ Coquina-rock,” St. Augustine, Fla. One specimen Fulgur perversa, St. Augustine, Fla. VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE. 49 Two specimens Fulgur carica and its operculum, St. Augustine, Fla. One specimen Fulgur carica var. elisaeus, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Pinna semi-nuda, St. Augustine, Fla. Three specimens Pinna muricata, St. Augustine, Fla. Five specimens Cardium magnum, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Lucina edentula, St. Augustine, Fla. One specimen Venus mortoni, St. Augustine, Fla, Four specimens Venus mercenaria, St. Augustine, Fla. Six specimens Arca pexata, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Arca incongrua, St. Augustine, Fla. Four specimens Arca ponderosa, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Arca americana, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Labiosa (reeta) canaliculata, St. Augustine, Fla. Two separate valves, Labiosa lineata, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Ostraea virginica, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Dosinia discus, St. Augustine, Fla. One specimen Pholas costata, St. Augustine, Fla. One specimen Pholas tunicata, St. Augustine, Fla. Five specimens Modiola plicatula, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Solecurtus gibba, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Lucina pennsylvanica, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Mactra semelis, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Iphigenia, sp. (?), Mosquito Inlet, Fla. Several specimens Tellina alternata, St. Augustine, Fla. One specimen Tellina interrupta, West Indies. Three specimens Tellina radiata, West Indies. Three specimens Tellina, sp. (?), West Indies. Six specimens Crepidula fornicata, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Crepidula convexa, St. Augustine, Fla. Four specimens Crepidula unguiformis, St. Augustine, Fla. Five specimens Crepidula glaucus, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Crepidula aculeata, St. Augustine, Fla. Fifteen specimens Fissurella alternata, St. Augustine, Fla. Three specimens Fissurella nodosa, St. Augustine. Fla. Three specimens Fissurella sp. (?), St. Augustine, Fla. Twenty-six specimens Siphonaria alternata, St. Augustine, Fla. Many specimens Donax variabilis, St. Augustine, Fla. Four specimens Sigaretus perspectivum, St. Augustine, Fla. Four specimens Natica mammalaris, St. Augustine, Fla. Nine specimens Nerita peleronta, West Indies. Ten specimens Nerita tesselata, West Indies. Nine specimens Nerita sp. (?), West Indies. Two specimens Nerita sp. (?), West Indies. Nine specimens Neritina reclivata, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Littorina irrorata, St. Augustine, Fla. 50, CURATOR’S ANNUAL REPORT. Thirteen specimens Littorina augulifera, 8t. Augustine, Fla. Eight specimens Littorina sp. (?), St. Augustine, Fla. Four specimens Trochus sp. (2), St. Augustine, Fla. Three specimens Tectarius nodosus, West Indies. Six specimens Tectarius muricata, West Indies. Several specimens Nassa vibex, St. Augustine, Fla. Eight specimens Nassa trivittata, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Nassa obsoleta, St. Augustine, Fla. Six specimens Nassa sp. (?) West Indies. Many specimens Urosalpinx cinerea, St. Augustine, Fla. Seven specimens Terebra dislocata, St. Augustine, Fla. Three specimens Terebra sp. (?), West Indies. Eleven specimens Cerithium sp. (?), West Indies. Four specimens Cerithiwm sp. (?), West Indies. Several specimens Cerithium eburneum, St. Augustine, Fla. Five specimens Cerithium sp. (?), St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Cerithidea scalariformis, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Columbella avara, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Columbella mercatoria, St. Augustine, Fla. Three specimens Hupleura caudata, St. Augustine, Fla. Five specimens Scalaria lineata, St. Augustine, Fla. Four specimens Scalaria humphreysiana, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Volva uniplicata, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Pyramidella dolabrata, West Indies. Several specimens Olivella mutica, St. Augustine, Fla. Eleven specimens Oliva literata, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Oliva inflata. St. Augustine, Fla. Six specimens Marginella, sp (?), South Florida. Seven specimens Marginella, sp (?). Several specimens Melampus tridentatus, St. Augustine, Fla. Six specimens Cypreea moneta, St. Augustine, Fla. Four specimens Cypreea helvola. Two specimens Cyprcea lynx. Twelve specimens Trivia pedicularis, West Indies. Eight specimens Purpura floridana, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Fasciolaria distans, St. Augustine, Fla. One specimen Fasciolaria tulipa, St. Augustine, Fla. Five specimens Bulla sp. (?), West Indies. Five specimens Vermetus lumbricalis, Nassau, N. P. Many specimens Odostomia impressa, St. Augustine Fla. Two specimens Strombus gigas, Lake Worth, South Florida. Two specimens Strombus fragilis, Lake Worth, South Florida. Three specimens Planaxis sp. (?), West Indies. Several specimens Terebra dislocata (or rudis ?), VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE. or One specimen Lithodomus appendiculata, buried in coquina rock, St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Unio fuscata, tributary of St. John’s River, fifteen miles west of St. Augustine, Fla. Several specimens Unio jayensis, Ocklawaha River, Fla. One specimen Unio dariensis, Cowan Swamp, near St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Unio sp. (?), Crescent Lake, Fla. Several specimens Mytilus cubitus, St. Augustine, Fla. Five specimens Spirula peronii, loc (?). Many specimens Helix carpentariana, St. Augustine, Fla. Thirteen specimens Helix septemvalva, St. Augustine, Fla. Fifteen specimens Helix cereolus, St. Augustine, Fla. Three specimens Helix auriculata(?), St. Augustine, Fla, Twenty specimens Helix orbiculata, St. Augustine, Fla. Eight specimens Planorbis antrorsus, St. Augustine, Fla. Six specimens Ampullaria depressa, Bike’s Hammock, thirty miles south of St. Augustine, Fla. Seven specimens Ampullaria hopoensis, Durbin Creek, tributary of St. John’s River, eighteen miles northwest of St. Augustine, Fla. Twelve specimens Paludina wareana, Durbin Creek, Fla. Four specimens Paludina georgina, Lake Jessup, Fla. Many specimens Succinea campestris, St. Augustine, Fla. Two specimens Strophia wva, West Indies. Several specimens Pecten dislocata, St. Augustine, Fla. Several unnamed gasteropod shells, St. Augustine, Fla. By purchase from Mr. William Colby ; ninety-three specimens, as follows: ‘Two specimens Nyctiardea grisea-nceva, night heron. Two specimens Limosa feeda, great marbled godwit. One specimen Sterna hirundo, Wilson’s tern. Two specimens Harelda glacialis, long-tailed duck. One specimen Querquedula carolinensis, Am. green-wing teal. One specimen 7gialites melodus, piping plover. Two specimens Colaptes auratus, golden-wing woodpecker. One specimen Melanerpes erythrocephalus, red-headed woodpecker. Two specimens Larus (argentatus) smithsonianus, Am. herring gull. One specimen Accipiter cooperi, Cooper’s hawk. Five specimens Accipiter fuscus, sharp-shinned hawk. Four specimens Falco columbarius, pigeon hawk. One specimen Totanus melanoleucus, greater tell-tale. One specimen Tringoides macularius, spotted sand-piper. Two specimens Buteo borealis, red-shouldered buzzard. One specimen Alle nigricans, sea dove. Two specimens Sphyropicus varius, yellow-bellied woodpecker. 52 CURATOR’S ANNUAL REPORT. Two specimens Tyrannus carolinensis, king bird. Three specimens Chordediles popetue, night hawk. One specimen Coccygus americanus, yellow-bellied cuckoo. One specimen Ceryle aleyon, belted king-fisher. Two specimens Quiscalus purpureus, purple grackle. Three specimens Scolecophagus ferrugineus, rusty grackle. One specimen Molothrus ater, cow bird. One specimen Sturnella magna, meadow lark. Three specimens Icterus spurius, orchard oriole. Two specimens Carpodacus purpureus, purple finch. One specimen Astragalinus tristis, yellow bird. One specimen Plectrophanes nivalis, snow bunting. One specimen Passerella iliaca, fox sparrow. One specimen Pipilo erythrophthalmus, ground robin. One specimen Vireo olivaceus, red-eyed greenlet. Three specimens Ampelis cedrorum, cedar bird. One specimen Zonotrichia albicollis, white-throated sparrow. One specimen Pyranga rubra, scarlet tanager. One specimen Dendreeca cestiva, golden warbler. One specimen Parula americana, blue yellow-back warbler. One specimen Sialia sialis, blue-bird. One specimen Turdus migratorius, robin. One specimen Turdus mustelinus, wood-thrush. One specimen Mimus carolinensis, cat-bird. Three specimens domestic pigeons. One specimen Phasianus colchicus (?), silver pheasant. One specimen Mimus polyglottus, mocking-bird. Two specimens Dendreeca coronata, yellow-rumped warbler. One specimen Psittacus sp. (?), parrot. Twelve specimens as yet unnamed. One specimen Tamias striatus, ground-squitrel. One specimen Alligator mississtppiensis, alligator. One specimen Mus decumanus, brown and white rat. Two specimens Rana catesbiana, bull-frog. One pair of jaws of Carcharias obscurus, blue shark. In the museum the zoological specimens have been thoroughly examined and cleaned; some of the cases which were purchased from the late Poughkeepsie So- ciety of Natural Science, have been altered and reno- vated. The valuable collections of plants, donated at various times by Mr. Gerard, Dr. Van Gieson, Dr. Stevenson, and Prof. Hyatt, have urgently needed re- mounting and careful arrangement and classification. VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE. 53 For this purpose a large amount of suitable paper and genus covers of excellent quality have been purchased, and the laborious task of transferring and labelling these Specimens and providing them with suitable shelves is now in process of accomplishment. Almost the entire work in the museum above men- tioned has been performed under the active superin- tendence and constant personal attention of the assistant curator, Dr. Stevenson. The Society is also much in- debted to Mr. Gilbert Van Ingen for valuable assist- ance in the arrangement and classification of the botani- cal specimens. Respectfully submitted, Wm. B. Dwieunt, Curator. Mr. Elting, librarian, reported that fifteen bound vol- umes and one hundred thirty-two pamphlets (mostly the transactions of various scientific societies) had been received as donations to the library. The Key of North American Birds (Coues), Structural and Systematie Conchology (Tryon), Text-book of Zodlogy (Claus and Sedgwick), The Determination of Rock-forming Minerals (Hussack) have been added, by purchase, by the committee on museum and library. Mr. Bristol, secretary, presented the following annual report: To Vassar Brothers Institute: Your secretary, in ac- cordance with his prescribed duties, has the honor to submit to you his annual report as follows: One member, Mr. James Smillie, has died during the year, and five active members have been elected. The following addresses were delivered before the In- stitute : 54. SECRETARY'S ANNUAL REPORT. 1885. November 10. ‘* Interpretations of Nature.” Wm. G. Stevenson, M.D., president of the Institute. December 1. ‘‘The Quakers and Their Doctrines.” James M. DeGarmo, Ph.D. 1886. January 5. ‘Ancient Sculpture.”.......... Prof. Henry Van Ingen. February 2. ‘‘ The Social Status of Women in Japan.” D. B. Simmons, M.D. March 2. ‘* Aerial Navigation.”....... Prof. W. LeConte Stevens. April 9. ‘*The Battle of Long Island.”.Truman J. Backus, LL.D. Volume III of the Transactions of the Institute and its Scientific Section, containing two hundred sixteen pages, has been issued, and distributed among the various scien- tific and philosophical societies with which we exchange. The following papers are contained therein : Sa Riervolutonmobesclen Ces mene ara LeRoy C. Cooley, Ph.D. “The Just Claims of Natural Science.”............ Prof. W. B. Dwight. *“ The Genealogy of the Vertebrata, as learned from Puecnee t Prof. E. D. Cope. ‘““ Some changes in the Habits of Birds.”....James M. De Garmo, Ph.D. ‘* Note on the Downy Woodpecker.”.......:.....- Mr. George Tremper. ‘*Sand and Kaolin from Decaying Quartzite.”..... Prof. W. B. Dwight. ee Uae Molla AIS RNNGES™ GoguaccosuopbocascsudsHos LeRoy C. Cooley, Ph.D. *“The Peculiar Structure of Clark’s Clay Beds.” ...Prof. W. B. Dwight. ‘An Empirical Study of Gyrating Bodies.”...... C. B. Warring, Ph.D. S kecent) Celestialsehenomenancsss pean eee ceneee Prof. Maria Mitchell. PPIDAUUOS) CONSE AREY Med eta ga ee Ce PRE SU Ae Miss Mary W. Whitney. ‘Chairman’s Annual Report S/o ayeheene els valkie amet eee Prof. W. B. Dwight. WaneDuzerandylownsendsliness. se see e eee eee Corrigenda. We have received contributions for our library during the past year from the following sources, viz: Anthropological Society, Washington, D. C. American Philosophical Society, Philadelphia. Albany Institute, Albany, N. Y. American Geographical Society, New York. American Monthly Microscopical Journal. Academy of Sciences of St. Louis, Mo. Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia. American Museum of Natural History, New York. Boston Society of Natural History, Boston, Mass. VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE. : 55 Buffalo Society of Natural Science, Buffalo, N. Y. Bureau of Education, (Department of the Interior), Bureau of Ethnology, (Department of the Interior). Bureau of U.S. Geological Survey, (Department of the{Interior). California Academy of Sciences, San Francisco, Cal. Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y. Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences, New Haven, Conn. Cincinnati Society of Natural Science, Cincinnati, Ohio. Canadian Record and Natural History Society of Montreal, Department of the Interior. _Engineer Department of U. 8. Army. Library Company, Philadelphia. Minnesota Academy of Natural Sciences, Minn. Missouri Historical Society, St. Louis, Mo. New York Academy of Sciences, New York. Natural History Society of Glasgow, Scotland. Nova Scotian Institute of Natural Science, Halifax. Newport Natural History Society, Newport, R. I. New York Microscopical Society, New York. Oberhessischen Gesellaschaft fur Natur-und Heilkunde, Giessen. Psyche. Portland Society of Natural History, Portland, Me. Rochester Society of Natural Science, Rochester, N. Y. Royal Society of Canada. Sociedad Cientifica Argentina, Buenos Aires. Societé Imperiale des Naturalistes de Moscou, Russia. Smithsonian Institution. Torrey Botanical Club, New York. U.S. Fish Commission, Washington, D.C. Wisconsin Natural History Society. Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Madison, Wis. The Scientific Section held the following meetings: 1885. November 18. ‘‘Cosmogony of the Quichi Indians.” C. B. Warring, Ph.D. iDecenmlogin, G5) COCCOGlesy 5 oon goincc dossoobamane OG Prof. W. B. Dwight. December 16. ‘*‘The Periodic Law of the Elements.” : L. C. Cooley, Ph.D. 1886. January 13. ‘‘The Axioms of Geometry.”........ F. Monteser, Ph.D January 138. ‘‘Decomposition of the Element of Didymium.” L. C. Cooley, Ph.D. 56 SECRETARY'S ANNUAL REPORT January 27. ‘‘ Primordial Rocks of the Wappinger’s Limestone.” Prof. Wm. B. Dwight. February 10. ‘‘Review of the Controversy between Mr. Gladstone and Prof. Huxley relating to Genesis and Science.” C. B. Warring, Ph.D. February 24. ‘Supplementary Paper on the Top.” C. B. Warring, Ph.D. April 10. ‘‘The Isthmian Canal.”..Capt. Henry C. Taylor, U.S.N. At the annual meeting of this Section, held May 4, Dr. Stevenson was elected chairman, and Mr. C. N. Arnold was re-elected recording secretary. The following essays and discussions were given be- fore the Literary Section: 1885. November 17. ‘‘The Attitude of Political Parties towards the Temper- NCS QUGRMOM, schasocoscanoou0sucs Mr. C. B. Herrick. November 24. ‘‘ Popular Prejudices.”............ Mr. Edward Burgess. December 8. ‘‘Gladstone: His Political Leadership and its Effects.” Mr. Cyrus Swan. | “Poems of George Eliot.”...... Mr. Henry V. Pelton. 15 December “Poems of Ralph Waldo Emerson.” My. Irving Elting. 1886. January 12. ‘‘ Prof. Sumner’s Free Trade Theory.” Rev. Wayland Spaulding. January 19. ‘‘ Bismarck: His Leadership and its Effects.” Mr. Edward Burgess. January, = 26:1) 6° The Jews ini Eistonyare eee aes Mr. L. F. Gardner. Ingjorueney OL OC laaloreran IBIDEATS, G55 go ccosocg0do0 os Mr. J. Hervey Cook. February 16. ‘‘The New Theology.”........;. Rev. Howard B. Grose. February 23. ‘‘ Waterloo and Napoleon Bonaparte.” Mr. Edward Elsworth. At the annual meeting of this Section Mr. L. F. Gard- ner was elected chairman, and Mr. J. H. Hamill was re-elected recording secretary. Respectfully submitted. CC. ES BRistou Secretary. VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE. 57 The following gentlemen were elected trustees of the Institute for 1886-1887 : JoHN Guy VASSAR, WILLIAM G. STEVENSON, S. M. Buckinenam, EDWARD ELSWworTH, JOACHIM HLMENDORF, LERoy C. Coo.ery, WitiiAm B. Dwicut, HeEnry V. PELTON, CHARLES B. HERRICK, A. P. VAN GIESON, WitiiAmM T. REYNOLDS, CHARLES N. ARNOLD. The following gentlemen were elected officers of the Institute for 1886-1887 : President, . . . WttLLiam G. Stevenson, M.D. Vice President, : Mr. Henry V. PELTON. SCCHCULTUs ane esa hale Mr. CHARLES L. BRISTOL. LE RAOSOUFGP eae) MSO Mr. EnwarpD ELSworRTH. Curator of Museum, Pror. WiLLiamM B. Dwieur. J OMCHROCH ee , Mr. Irvine ELTING. ATCO UTECLOT., « 3 Pror. Henry VAN INGEN. fy ok TRANSACTIONS OF VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE, 1886-1887. NOVEMBER 9, 1886—THIRTY-FOURTH REGULAR MEETING. Two hundred twenty-five members and guests present. ANNUAL ADDRESS. GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. BY WILLIAM G. STEVENSON, M.D., PRESIDENT OF THE INSTITUTE. Members of the Institute, Ladies and Gentlemen: As an expression of energy the human mind is the highest ; as a product of creative power through organic evolution it is Supreme, and as a mystery in nature it is the most profound. It were comparatively an easy task to explain psychological phenomena by asserting, as did the meta- physicians of the past, and as some do even at the present, that the human brain—the physical sanctuary of thought—is merely an instrument through which va- rious spiritual beings operate, producing at one time the prophetic utterances of the seer, at another time the gifted words of genius, and yet again the extravagant and discordant expressions of madness. This was the ‘‘working hypothesis’’ of Pagan antiquity in its efforts to explain the utterances of its oracles, and also of the 60 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. Christian fathers in their attempts to explain the inspi- ration of the prophets and of the apostles. Greek supernaturalism and the Christian doctrine of inspiration here found a common point of agreement, for both implied a ‘‘ divine intoxication ’’—an ‘* over- flowing of the mind’’—because of its entire possession by a divine influence, which, according as it was good or evil, excited a ‘‘ poetic furor’’ indicative of genius, | or caused a wild frenzy which was known as madness. Genius, therefore, was simply a reflection, through the human brain, of an outside divinity of good; while in- sanity was merely an expression of satanic possession— an inspiration of an evil spirit—and in nature was closely allied to genius. : This belief, although somewhat modified by filtering through ages of changing thought, has been superseded only in very recent times by the conceptions which re- flect the broader generalizations of inductive science. Modern science, groping its way through the intrica- cies of inanimate and animate nature, has applied the inductive method to the study of*mind ; made the brain the starting point of its analysis, and, from a study of its mechanism, sought to learn its relations to psychical phenomena. For centuries this has been the inspiring hope of many ; but the ultimate facts of nervous tissue yet elude us. The fragments of truth already obtained have, however, widened the horizon of our mental per- spective, and caused to recede—yet a little further, and on a different tangent—the unknown which we pursue. Every discovery has opened new avenues of thought, and suggested new problems for solution, and, at the same time, there has come to the thoughtful mind a deeper realization of nature’s vastness, and of the pro- found mystery that lies behind the phenomena which appear to the senses and are perceived by the intellect. There can be no complete synthesis of mental phe- WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 61 nomena until analysis has furnished all the facts which pertain to the ‘‘ physics of the brain’’; and since the spirit of modern science seeks only truth, regarding all theories and hypotheses merely as provisional instru- ments to this end—to be discarded for better ones when- ever a newly-discovered fact shall indicate the need of change—it is important to examine from time to time the record of verified facts, that we may more justly esti- mate the value of any theory pertaining either to matter or to mind, In the study of the brain, anatomy has revealed its complicated structure, and traced its development through many forms of life upward to man ; physiology and pathology have studied the wondrous functions of its various parts, and witnessed the psychological changes which follow its growth and decay ; chemistry has largely solved the riddle of its elements, and given us the agents which, without altering the most delicate nerve-substance, fix it in all its natural relations and so fit it for detailed examination ; while the microscope— peering into the secrets of its cell formations—has re- vealed myriads of elements unknown to the investigators of the past, and caught a shadowy outline of its mole- cular activities. From the data thus furnished comes the conviction that mental phenomena ‘‘are dependent upon the prop- erties and molecular activities of nerve-tissue’’; and that there isa ‘‘bond of union’’ between psychical ex- pressions and a nervous mechanism, although the nature of this union is unknown. The facts of consciousness are marshaled before us with all the force of attested verities, but are yet veiled with all the mystery of a pass- ing dream. If, then, neither science nor philosophy has fully classified mental phenomena as observed in the general average of mankind, how vain will be the attempt to 62 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. measure the intellectual greatness of genius or tell the story which belongs to the degeneration of the reasoning mind ! That there may be a close relationship between genius and madness is a proposition which impresses us, at first, as a violation of the order of nature; but when we think ~ that the unity of nature includes in its cycle not the world of matter alone, but living things and mind— wherein are wrought marked differences of form and ex- pression through gradations so imperceptible that we do not discern the real points of transition—and reflect, further, upon the changing forms of certain nervous dis- eases and morbid predispositions in their ‘‘ pathological evolution through generations,’’ and recall the fact that some originating minds have been touched with insanity or, perhaps, it might be said, in some cases, that so much of madness has been accompanied with expressions of such intellectual greatness, the question of kinship be- tween genius and madness becomes one of deep physio- logical and psychological interest. The quality of mind known as genius involves, in con- nection with the reasoning faculties, the special exercise of imagination in its higher creative or constructive forms ; and in understanding this faculty we have an in- sight into the marvelous nature of genius. It may be said that imagination is that faculty which, in its lower or constructive form, works within the limits of recollection, and transforms the materials of sense- experience into pictures of thought, and recombines them into forms of greater beauty and usefulness ; while in its higher or creative form it distills therefrom truths which reason has not yet discerned, and idealizes beauties and excellences which excite our admiration and exalt our emotions. When thought symbolizes to the mind ‘‘the forms of things unknown,”’ it is because the imagination—leap- WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 63 ing beyond the bounds of sensory perception—gathers from the infinitudes of unrevealed realities new truths, and thereby ‘‘ gives to airy nothing, a local habitation and a name.’ Itis thus that the intellect is able to extend the horizon of knowledge, and obtain material for the workshops of the brain. Imagination is the prolific mother of art, of poetry, and song; its breath transforms dull canvas intoa thing of beauty, and gives to marble the expressive forms of life. The drama, the poem, the symphony are the grand chorus of itsinspiration. Thedomination of law through- out the universe, and the unity of nature under it, are its revelations, while the hypotheses of science and the postulates of philosophy are but its temporary vestures. Imagination, however bold may be its flight, is, never- theless, under the restraining influence of reason, and performs its wondrous work along true parallels of thought. Its ideals are not mere symbols of myths and fleeting shadows, but ideals which are the embodiments of eternal truths. Thus, by its sovereignty in realms where Ariadne’s thread is lost from view, the imagina- tion constructs its empire, and gives by its own methods new revelations of truth, thereby ‘* convertingall nature into the rhetoric of thought.”’ This, then, is the special mind-quality—the ‘‘ vision and the faculty divine’’—which constitutes the power of genius. Notwithstanding its high endowments, genius is not so puissant that it cannot be ‘‘ improved by culture, di- rected by knowledge or disciplined by reason’’; nor so transcendent that it ‘‘knows without learning, and teaches the world what it never learned.’? To say with Mr. Stedman that ‘‘ genius lies in the doing of one thing, or many things, through power resulting from the unconscious action of the free intellect in a manner unattainable by the conscious effort of ordinary men ”’ is 64 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. much the same as to say—-what every one knows—that the unconscious or reflex action of some highly endowed minds, evolves intellectual products—of which we are conscious—-which outrank the effects emanating from the conscious effort of less gifted minds. Yet what avails either conscious or unconscious men- tality unless it utilizes the rich legacies of the past, and, to the experience, knowledge, and culture of other minds, adds that which will enlarge our conceptions of truth and beauty. Herein is genius—that conscious or unconscious ‘‘ mastery which,’’ as Mr. Howells says, ‘‘comes to any man according to his powers and dili- gence in any direction.”’ This does not affirm equality of all minds, nor allege that diligence or discipline can enable all to reach the same level of intellectuality, but it implies that the intellect is a unity, and that its varied expressions—whether known as ‘‘ability,” ‘‘tal- ent’ or ‘‘genius’’—differ not in kind but in degree. Genius, as the superlative expression of imaginative thought, often acts in an orbit of great eccentricity, and may be accompanied with a temperament so keenly sensitive that its tides of emotional life are ever at the highest flood or at the lowest ebb. ‘‘It is not happi- ness, but. ecstasy ; not grief, but anguish; hope be- comes enthusiasm, and despondency leads to despair.” In this glow of thought—this fierce consuming fervor of emotional life—it were not strange if the mind-ten- sion, thus intensified by the restless energy of ‘‘ spiritual generation,’ should at times ‘‘ disturb the harmony of cerebral action and thereby weaken volitional control.” In the attempt, not to define genius, but to explain the order of its succession, Mr. Galton was led to ‘‘ con- clude that each generation has enormous power over the natural gifts of those that follow,’’? and that native en- dowments of mind are of themselves quite sufficient to é WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 65 enable an individual to become ‘‘ eminent’”’ or even ‘ il- lustrious.”’ Heredity is, therefore, the silent conservator and di- recting factor of mental life; it is that inborn power of organization which enables ‘‘one out of a million’’ to become a genius, and to surmount all obstacles and neu- tralize every repressive influence, while others who have not this exalted birthright fall by the way and lose their individuality in the vast throng of a common humanity. That there is a profound principle of truth involved in the question of heredity cannot be denied, and that the factor of inheritance is the most essential of any which enters into the complex equation of mind as well as of body, is a well-established fact; but it is not the only factor which determines mental expression, nor can a complete classification of known facts be made from it alone. Heredity explains the existence of a general nervous constitution, a brain-fiber, having definite apti- tudes or ‘‘ organic dispositions,’ which are transmitted from parent to offspring, securing thereby not only a continuity, but a conservation of psychical as well as of physical properties ; but the special way in which this mental aptitude shall show itself is largely dependent upon external influences or an unexplained spontaneity. Organization limits the influence exerted by environ- ment, while environment limits and modifies the devel- opment of the capacities of the organization. The explanation of genius through the operation of the biologic law of heredity is very satisfactory so long as antecedent and sequence bear to each other defi- nite and ascertainable relations ; but trouble begins when the genetic record fails in its apparent unity—as when genius and mediocrity have kinship. Whence came the genius of Phidias, which enabled him with such immortal art to createin carved ivory and 66 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. fretted gold the Lemnian statue of the Parthenon and the Zeus of Olympia ; whence came the power of Michael . Angelo, Salvator Rosa, Leonardo da Vinci, and Rubens, to paint in matchless beauty, on canvas and in fresco, the wondrous imagery of their minds ; or of Beethoven, to record in his symphonies the raptures of his soul ; or of Scott, to clothe with the habiliments of life the ideals of his brain; or of Spenser, Burns, and Byron, to write with such rhythmic beauty ; or of Goethe, to garnish with poetic dress the deep philosophy of his thought? In what cloudland of the past were hidden the possibilities of Dante and Milton—who made their visions of the eternal realms the subject of impassioned verse—at once gorgeous in its rich tracery of thought, and sublime in its pageantry of bliss and woe? In what ancestral brain did sleep the transcendent genius of Shakespeare that read every page ‘‘in nature’s infinite book of secrecy’’; or did smolder the giant intellect of Newton, which weighed the planets and bound with the force of gravity atoms and worlds in a bond of unity ? Such examples seem indicative of conditions powerful to modify, transform, or deflect the action of the laws of heredity, and to cause ‘‘indefinite variability ’’ in psy- chological phenomena, as is done in material forms. This variability, this new psychic manifestation, is robed with the insignia of a new creation ; a new species has been born into the realm of mind, displaying new and more exalted powers, but nevertheless restrained in its action by the organization which, under law, pre- sides with such tyranny over every mental expression, and makes us, to a greater extent than we commonly think, creatures of an inexorable destiny. ‘The contrast between the exalted ideals and grand achievements of genius, and the feeble, discordant expressions of mad- ness, is as pathetic as it is striking. The citadel of WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 67 thought has been despoiled of its most precious adorn- ment, and in the place where once the Muses sat, mock- ing echoes now hold carnival, and ‘‘ melancholy sits on brood.”’ To give a definition of insanity which shall prove ac- ceptable to medical psychology and to practical juris- prudence, is a more difficult task than it may appear. This comes because of the differences in the appreciation of causes and effects in mental phenomena which exist between minds trained in the technical details of physi- ological and pathological knowledge, and those who witness merely a few of the more pronounced express- ions of lunacy, but are unable to trace the expressions to their relating causes. To have even a moderate understanding of insanity, it is necessary to clearly comprehend the nature and im- port of ‘‘illusion,’’ ‘‘ hallucination,’ and ‘‘ delusion’? — which, when they exist, are of so much importance that some would fain have us believe that the possession of any one of these symptoms is sufficient to make genius and insanity ‘‘a little more than kin, and less than kind.”’ When a person sees, hears, smells, tastes, or feels an object, but perceives it to be what it is not—as when a tree becomes a man, and the murmuring wind his voice —an illusion exists ; a real sense-impression is wrongly interpreted by the perceptive centers, and hence. the perception does not correspond with the external object. Hallucination originates within the brain, and is the perception of that which has no real existence ; indeed, so purely subjective is it, that the senses have no agency in its production. Under conditions of concen- trated attention, ideas, feelings, and sense-perceptions, are marshaled into consciousness with as great distinct- ness as if they were the products of external objects, rather than of subjective conditions alone. This comes 68 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. from the fact that the sense-centers are influenced by im- pressions received independent -of their source. Their function is to transform impressions into conscious sen- sation, and hence an idea or emotion, when directed in a special way with persistent, concentrated force, may so impress the sensorium as to cause it to project into consciousness sensations which seem to come from ob- jects in the external world. I cannot tell how this is done, neither can I tell how it is done when impressions come from without. The facts we know, but the secrets of transformation elude us. The brain constructs new forms, but conceals the methods of imagination by the shadow of unconsciousness. Ajax becomes enraged because the arms of Achilles are given to Ulysses, and in his wrath he sees animals as Greeks and assails them as if Ulysses and Agamem- non themselves were before him. ‘Talma intensified his emotions and his dramatic effect by the illusive specters of his mind. Spinoza beheld with great distinctness the disagreeable image of his dream a long time after sleep was gone; and Niebuhr, when describing the scenes of his travels, would see all rise before him in ‘‘all the coloring, animation; and splendor of nature.” Multitudes have been at times subject to the same false perceptions ; as when the soldiers under Constan- tine saw the cross in the sky bearing the inscribed words, ‘‘/n hoc signo vinces”’; or when the army at the battle of Antioch, excited and superstitious, saw the saints—George, Demetrius, and Theodosius—descending through the clouds of heaven to their support. The consummate skill of Shakespeare in portraying the different phases of false perception, and his power of psychological analysis, are wonderfully illustrated in the dagger-scene of Macbeth. Intent on murder, with ‘‘ courage screwed to the sticking-place,’’ Macbeth is about to enter the king’s chamber, when he is startled WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 69 and dismayed by an apparition of a bloody dagger in the air. For a moment he questions the reliability of his sight, and exclaims : “Ts this a dagger which I see before me, The handle towards my hand?” He cannot believe the testimony of his eyes, and there- fore seeks confirmation in the sense of touch: “*. . « Come, let me clutch thee : I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.” Failing to grasp the dagger, he wonderingly asks: ‘* Art thou not, fated vision, sensible To feeling as to sight?” And then, as if reason were struggling to gain supre- macy over the senses, he continues : ““, . or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation Proceeding from a heat-oppressed brain ?” How suggestive, how replete with truth was this pro- phetic utterance; and yet the intensity of his mind’s tension—because of the deed to be done and the instru- ment for its execution—still makes the terrible idea the dominating factor of his mind, and subordinates the senses to its rule! Heis not yet able to entirely dispel the hallucination, and he compares the apparition to the trusted blade at his side: **T see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. . . . I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood Which was not so before !” And then, as if the blood upon the dagger had, by its horrid suggestiveness, steadied his brain, reason once more resumes her seat and denies the apparition, by asserting— «c |, . There’s no such thing ; It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes.” 70 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. These false perceptions, these illusions and hallucina- tions, while they do not necessarily indicate any mental unsoundness, have been, however, the fruitful source of those apparitions, whether of demons, fairies, or ghosts, which have added-to the credulity of man, intensified his superstitions, and made possible the organization of human error under such forms of belief as are typically illustrated by witchcraft and spiritualism. So long as an individual is conscious that the illusions and hallucinations of his senses are unreal—merely *‘such stuff as dreams are made of’’—the intellect is not affected ; but when the false perceptions are ac- cepted as realities, the mind itself is then involved, and a delusion or a false belief is said to exist. A delusion may be based upon false perceptions ; faulty ideas from perverted reasoning about real events, or from mental inability to distinguish differences in things. A false belief is not, however, of itself indicative of insanity, so long as it is in harmony with the individual’s common mode of thought and with the spirit of the age. This is apparent when it is remembered that witchcraft —now regarded as a delusion—was, not long since, held to be a truth; indeed, such master-minds as Bacon, Jewel, Luther, Calvin, Wesley, Blackstone, Coke, and Dr. Johnson, in accepting as a truth that which we now know was a mental epidemic of error, reflected only the universal belief of the age, and were free from any taint of insanity. That the standard of mental health is variable because it is conditioned by race, age, environment, and circum- stances, is abundantly attested by the history of the past ; and this fact should be recalled in discussing the kinship of genius and madness. The popular literature relating to genius and insanity is so meager and fragmentary that the recent contribu- WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. Al tions by Mr. Sully, on /nsanity and Genius and Genius and Precocity, and by Miss Sanborn on the Vanity and Insanity of Genius, are as welcome as they are interest- ing. Itis obvious, however, that names are often used to show the kinship between insanity and genius which do not represent the most illustrious minds. Mr. Sully is, however, logically correct in thus using names, for he includes under the term genius ‘‘all varieties of originative power, whether in art, science, or in practical affairs’’; but in so doing he destroys, as it seems to me, the value of his argument in support of the relationship of insanity and genius, for, measured by this standard, the evidence is overwhelmingly against the theory. Neither is due regard given to the real significance of false perceptions, which are often made to appear in- dicative of insanity, when in reality mental integrity is not impaired. Although obliged to follow a common trend of thought with familiar illustrations, it is, nevertheless, my hope to place a few garlands of honor on the brow of health, and to defend genius against the implication that it is such only with madness. The profound ignorance of the ancient philosophers concerning the nature of mind itself justifies us in attaching but little importance to their interpretation of its phenomena. Thus, Plato’s Psychology affirmed a self-existent, self-moving, and eternal soul, in form ‘like a pair of winged steeds. . . . In divine souls both steeds are good, in human souls one is bad. . . . Before entering the body the wings are lost which were nourished by beauty, wisdom, goodness, and all that is divine. The mind of the philosopher alone has wings; he is ever initiated into perfect mysteries, and his soul alone becomes complete. But the vulgar deem him mad and rebuke him; they do not see that he is inspired. This We GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. divine madness is kindled through the renewed vision of beauty. . . . Love itself is madness.”’ The soothsayers, or diviners, to whom Plato ascribed the ‘‘ nobler madness,”’ were regarded mad, not only be- -cause of their wisdom, but because of their extravagant rage and noisy behavior. Virgil describes the inspired priestess as full of en- thusiastic rage, and fiercely raving in her struggle to disburden her soul of the influence of the mighty god. Indeed, raging, foaming, and yelling, accompanied with antic motions, was the usual way of expressing the in- fluence of inspiration or ‘‘ possession.”’ Since Aristotle held psychological views similar to those of Plato, his saying that ‘‘it is the essence ofa great poet to be mad” adds nothing to the strength of the theory. The ‘‘madness,”’ referred to in the conversation be- tween Horace and Damasippus, did not specially relate to intellectual conditions, or to what we know as insanity, as has been intimated, but rather to individual and so- cial ethics. The Satire says: ‘‘The school and sect of Chrysippus deem every man mad whom vicious folly or whomsoever the ignorance of any truth drives blindly on. This definition takes in whole nations; this even great kings; the wise man alone being excepted. . . Whoever is afflicted with evil ambition or the love of money ; whoever is smitten with iuxury, or gloomy su- perstition, or any other disease of the mind, . . . come near me, in order, while I convince you that you are mad... . Whoever shall form images foreign from truth, and be confused in the tumult of impiety, will al- ways be reckoned disturbed in mind; . . . where there is foolish depravity, there will be the height of madness. He who is wicked will be frantic too.” I confess that, with such statements before us, it hardly seems necessary to discuss the value of ancient opinions WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. ie on a subject which must be treated under the restrictions of modern definitions. We will, therefore, examine the question from the standpoint of more modern times, when the supernatural agency in insanity gives place to the deteriorating influences which unite it to other forms of nervous disease ; and genius becomes a product of an age, in the expansive growth of the human mind. That these extreme forms of mental expression are often associated, there is no doubt ; and‘that genius is, at times, shadowed by mental disease is a fact well known; but our interest centers in the inquiry, whether this relationship is such an essential one as to justify Dryden in asserting— ““ Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide.” Or Shakespeare, when he says : ‘« The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact.” In support of this essential union, Montaigne, Diderot, Paseal, Lamartine, and others, have subscribed their names, but in terms more general than specific, and with more rhetorical beauty than philosophic strength; while Moreau boldly affirms that genius is a nervous disease. Charles Lamb, himself at times oppressed with mental gloom, stands almost alone in defense of ‘‘ the sanity of true genius.”’ With this view Lam in accord, and, that the justification of this position may be seen, I desire to review the facts commonly cited against it. Sophocles—poet, statesman, commander—was obliged to make a defense against the charge of insanity, insti- tuted by ungrateful and avaricious children. He an- swered by reciting the tragedy of @dipus at Colonos, which he had just finished, and he thenasked the judges if the author of such a work could be regarded as mad. The reply was, ‘‘ No !’’ and he was acquitted. 74 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. Lucretius——‘‘ writer of the purest Latin, and author of De Rerum Natura, the most exalted poem of theage” —whose mind combined the ‘‘contemplative enthusiasm of a philosopher, the earnest purpose of a reformer and moral teacher, and the profound pathos and sense of beauty of a great poet,’’ has been used to illustrate the kinship of genius and madness upon the unreliable evi- dence that he lost his reason from the effect of a ‘‘love- philter’’ (a very ridiculous absurdity) which had been given to him; and after writing several books, during his lucid intervals, he committed suicide. Were this allegation true, it could only show the bane- ful effect of the drug upon his brain, which is quite apart from the influence of any psychic cause. The historic facts are too few and insufficient to justify any state- ment as to the life and personal character of this man, who exerted such an influence over others by his writings, and yet. like Homer, was content to let his personality ‘‘pass through life unnoticed.’”’ Ceesar, Catullus, and Cicero were his contemporaries, and yet we know of him only through a brief record given by Jerome four hun- dred years after the poet’s death. Independent of the historic doubts as to his insanity, the theory which makes a drug its potent cause, should at least find rea- son for not uniting to it his genius. That Socrates had his ‘‘demon,’’ or guardian angel, may be true; but, if so, the hallucination corresponded with the accepted belief of the age, and therefore signi- fies nothing against his mental integrity. Neither is there justification in using such illustrious names as Descartes, Newton, and Goethe, to prove that madness holds its court so near the temple of greatness. It is true that Descartes, inan hour of deep intellectual abstraction, was ‘‘ filled with enthusiasm, and discovered the foundations of a marvelous science’’; and, it may be that, during his profound meditations, in which he WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 75D ‘¢turned the eye of reason inward upon itself, and tried to measure the value of his own beliefs,’ an idea became so dominant that the sense of hearing responded to its impression, as if a voice from without had called him ‘to pursue the truth.’ In no way, however, did this simple and momentary hailucination interrupt the great work of his life, and in no lawful way can it be inter- preted as an expression of a morbid mind. That Goethe once saw his own counterpart approach him, I doubt not; but that this false perception, this passing incongruity—a mere incident of poetic revery when the mind, self-absorbed, wandered in its fancy— should be classed as evidence of a pathological condition, and made to bear witness against the healthfulness of Goethe’s mind, is an assumption extravagant and absurd. That Newton was once ‘‘ decidedly insane,’’ as some allege, is doubtful; and that he ever suffered from any mental disturbance which justifies the inference that his genius was ailied to madness, I hesitate not to deny. Mr. Sully says: ‘‘ The story of Newton’s madness, which is given bya French biographer, and which is ably re- futed by Sir David Brewster, may owe much of its piquancy to what may be called the unconscious invent- iveness of prejudice.” The facts, as I gather them, point to a congestion of the brain—which culminated in a brain-fever—-the re- sult of overwork under unfavorable hygienic conditions. Newton himself refers to his illness in a letter to Mr. Pepys, and again in a letter to Locke, wherein he men- tions his loss of memory, and his sleepless nights. It is not strange that his illness should excite the fears of his friends, not only for his physical but for his future mental health. Mr. Pepys expressed his anxiety to Mr. Millington, who replied that he had recently seen New- ton, who was then well, and that, although his illness had caused ‘‘ some small degree of melancholy, there is 76 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. no reason to suspect it hath at all touched his under- standing.’’ Huygens, a contemporary scientist, says, in a letter to Leibnitz in 1694, that Newton was ill for about eighteen months with phrenitis or brain-fever, from which he recovered by the use of medicines. With these data before us, it is a misconception of physiologi- cal and pathological facts to assert that Newton was in- sane: and that there was a kinship between his mighty genius and madness, is contradicted by the intellectual work which has given immortality to his name. The star seen by Napoleon, which was to him an omen of success; the vision which came to Cromwell, and spoke the words prophetic of his greatness ; the appari- tion which uttered the ominous words to Brutus—‘‘I am thy evil genius, thou wilt meet me at Phillipi!” the dreams and visions of Benvenuto Cellini; the ‘‘ trees like men walking,’ as seen by Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the appearance of the devil to Luther—are all ex- amples of hallucinations which are entirely consistent with reason, and are not justly indicative of insanity or mental disease. They represent a habit of mind which naturally, under conditions of concentrated attention, intensified in an age tolerant of all forms of supersti- tions, ‘‘seeks for and creates, if need be, with or with- ~ out consciousness, an outward object as the cause of its feelings.”’ Luther, for example, saw with his ‘‘mind’s eye’ the image of the devil, which, in that age of re- ligious excitement and credulity, was ever expectant in all minds, and generally present everywhere. ‘‘ Hallu- cinations were,’’ says De Boismont, ‘“‘in the whole social community, not in individuals’’; and hence it was that under the dominion of a general belief, how- ever vague or irrational it may have been, the individual mind ‘‘ demanded of imagination the realization of the phantasms of its dreams; and imagination, despite of resistance of reason, endowed them with form and sub- WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. TT stance.’’ Herein is found a distinguishing factor ‘‘be- tween real insanity and the separate phenomena of genius and moral exaltation.” In further support of this opinion we may cite the hallucinations of Loyola, when he heard celestial voices ; of Edward Irving, who received the gift of prophecy and the ‘‘power of tongues’’; of Dr. Johnson, when the voice of his dead mother came to him; of Male- branche, when the deep feelings of his soul were to him the audible voice of Diety, and of Joan of Arc, who, under the guidance of saints, led the French arms to victory. That genius ‘‘has its roots in a nervous organization of exceptional delicacy,’’ is undoubtedly true, but it does not necessarily follow that the liability to mental discord and confusion is thereby increased, because this delicacy of brain-structure and its functions are ad- mirably adjusted, and the very perfection of the me- chanism enables it to work with the least possible fric- tion or injury. Under certain conditions, however, we have eccen- tricities of thought, feeling, and action, which indicate an unstable condition of nerve-element ; but it does not follow that this instability necessarily impairs the in- teerity of the mind; much less does it imply that ‘‘venius,’’? more than the lower expressions of mental power, is nearer the border-land of mental disease. I doubt not that permutations of this unstable condition may occur which, by supplementing the natural gifts of mind, cause a variety of individual traits, which may give to the poet Campbell indecision and indolence ; make Carlyle cross and pessimistic; Byron proud, generous, and reckless ; Schlegel foppish in his vanity; Keats despondent ; Pope crafty and pretentious ; Swift satiri- eal, avaricious, and irascible; Chateaubriand egotistic and vain; Burns and Poe convivial and intemperate ; 78 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. Eliot sensitive and dependent ; Hawthorne shy and modest ; Wordsworth simple-hearted yet full of con- ceit; and Ampére absent-minded and unpractical. Thus might I show certain peculiarities which belong to the personal mental outfit of almost every one whose indi- viduality is sufficiently marked to make him worthy of notice ; but these peculiarities or eccentricities are not essentially morbid, neither do they give affirmative evi- dence that genius is related to madness. Such peculi- arities belong to. all orders of mind—the humble as well as the exalted—and cannot, therefore, have an exclusive application. . Add to the personal eccentricities of Rope, Byron, Johnson, Carlyle and Swift, the temper which at times became in them extravagant rage, and the proof is yet no Stronger that genius and insanity are but different types of mental disease ; for passion and appetite are, in all — their forms, expressions of organic life, and common to humanity, and, therefore, as universal factors, they can not be dissociated and made to bear witness either for or against the subject before us. It has already been ad- mitted that eccentricities of character imply a want of mental poise or equilibium, which is even more apparent in the extravagant passions which at times hold individ- uals under despotic control, and often indicate decided moral obliquity. This I do not deny; but yet affirm that the violent passion at times observed in one of ex- alted powers of mind is no more evidence in favor of the kinship between these powers and mental disease, than is the same passion, when displayed in a low and vulgar mind, proof that stupidity is a congener of madness. Mr. Madden is quite as justified in asserting that ‘‘ the maladies of genius have their main source in dyspepsia,”’ or I in affirming that, because some eminent men have been physically puny and ill-formed, therefore their WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 79 genius is related to, and dependent upon, bodily imper- fections. In trying to establish the kinship between mental greatness and disease, Mr. Sully states, what I do not deny, that ‘‘a number of great men have died from dis- ease of the nerve-centers,’’ naming Pascal, Cuvier, Men- delssohn, Mozart and Heine—none of whom, however, were insane. That genius should be subject to ‘‘all the ills that flesh is heir to’’ challenges neither surprise nor dissent ; but to hold this as evidence in support of the idea that ‘‘the extreme mind is near to extreme madness”’ is, as it seems to me, an erroneous interpretation of physiolog- ical and pathological facts. 'To prove that Pascal died in convulsions from an acute brain trouble, in connection with a disease of bodily organs, and that Mendelssohn and Rousseau died of apoplexy, and Heine of spinal disease, is not proof that there was any essential weak- ness or disease of nerve-element, but rather is it evidence of disease of blood-vessels through faulty nutrition. When hemorrhage occurs in the brain, its substance is disorganized, as it might be if any other foreign sub- stance were forced into it, and nervous disturbance very naturally follows ; and possibly secondary nervous or mental disease, but it is not correct to speak of the pri- mary apoplexy as a disease of the brain, or to infer that, because a person of high mental endowments has thus suffered, therefore, as Lamartine says, ‘‘Genius bears within itself a principle of destruction, of death, of mad- ness.”? Cuvier, after a life of incessant intellectual toil, with mind unclouded, died at the age of sixty-three, from paralysis of the throat and lungs. Kepler, sound in mind, died when sixty years old of fever, which some say caused an abscess in the brain. The cause of Mozart’s death is unknown; his sickness was of short duration. He thought himself poisoned, but the facts were hidden 80 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. in the pauper-grave wherein his body was unkindly thrown. Now, I protest that such cases give no evi- dence of insane temperament, and in no way illustrate the kinship between mental greatness and disease. Again, it is said, and often with reason, that this kin- ship is shown by the suicidal impulse, which ‘is only another phase of insanity.’’ That suicide or homicide may result, under this impulse, I doubt not; but to make this fact of special value its numerical proportions should at least be such as to make it a factor of constant value. Because Goethe, Chateaubriand, George Sand and Johnson have said that at times they felt an impulse to commit suicide; because Beethoven, Schumann, and Cowper, who were at times morbid, really made the at- tempt ; and Kleist, Beneke, and Chatterton succeeded in self-destruction—we are not justified in saying that the impulse or the act itself came because genius contains an element of madness. Hundreds who commit suicide every year do not possess genius; why, then, make it the responsible agent for the few ? It is charitable to think that the misdeeds of our friends, or of those whom we admire, are covered by the plea of irresponsibility through insanity. Science, how- ever, deals with facts, not sentiments. That mental and motor impulses often occur which, because they are stronger than volition, regard not the consciousness of right or wrong, there is no doubt; that these impulses are very frequently the product of a morbid mind is also well attested, but the question before us is limited to the relationship which genius bears to suicide, as one expression of madness. I confess I can see only that relationship which exists in the organic necessities which constitute the founda- tion of human thought and action, and not the psychol- ogical relationship which makes the exaltation of mind the destroyer of its life. WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 81 The regularity and constancy of results which spring from the varying conditions of race, climate, and occu- pations, as well as from the social, political, and moral influences around us, clearly indicate, what statistics prove, that madness is but one of many causes of sui- cide.. Now, since genius is itself exceedingly rare, and its union with insanity still less frequently found, it is evident that suicide, although occasionally committed by those of exalted minds, is altogether too infrequent among them to justify us in claiming it as evidence in behalf of the insanity of genius. Certainly, when we find that Kleist, Beneke, and Chatterton stand almost alone in this list, the support for the assumption is not strong, nor is it enhanced if the quality of genius thus represented is duly estimated. Those who would make genius dependent upon or as- sociated with a morbid mental state, seek to strengthen their position by citing the names of Burke, Chatham, Linnzeus, Moore, Southey, Scott, Swift, and Shelley, as among those whose faculties were impaired by mental disease. I interpret the facts differently. It is true that Linnzeus at the age of sixty failed in memory, and that, when nearly seventy, an attack of apoplexy ruined his mind; that Moore, Southey, and Scott, when the years of their life were nearly num- bered, were enfeebled in mind, because in old age the work of repair had failed ; while Swift, at three-score years and ten, lost his mental powers as a result of a disease which began long years before, not in the brain, but in the organ of hearing. Shelley, indeed, was eccentric and given to sleep- walking and hallucinations, and at times he may have confounded the mythical with the real, seeing ‘‘ forms more real than living man,’’ but I know of no rule of psychology or of medical jurisprudence which will au- thorize us to say he was insane. His fervor, his reason, 82 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. and his imagination conspired to lift him into the higher realms of an idealism which was the antithesis of things as commonly seen, and his mind grew and strengthened until, at the age of thirty years, obedient to the ‘‘in- finite malice of destiny,”’ he died. Because Lord Chatham suffered at one time from melancholy, the direct resuit of suppressed gout, it in no way proves that his genius was allied with madness, for the same clinical facts are observed in all orders of mind. Since, therefore, every degree of mental disorder from the simplest feeling of depression to the wildest mania, regardless of the quality of mind, may follow from the undue retention in the blood of the waste products of tissue-change, either alone or combined with other mor- bid bodily conditions, there seems to be but little justifi- cation in asserting that ‘‘there is no great genius without a mixture of insanity.”’ In the history of political literature the name of Ed- mund Burke stands among the first, and is representa- tive not only of that illuminating power which belongs to lofty minds, but of the genius which comes ‘‘as the consummation of the faculty of taking pains.’’ Year after year his voice sounded in behalf of the ‘‘ sacred- ness of law, the freedom of nations, the justice of rulers,” and the imagery of his thought—imposing in its majesty —‘‘carries us into regions of enduring wisdom.’’ For nearly threescore years his mind retained the dignity and calm of lofty greatness, and seemed to totter from its balance only when he breathed the torrid heat of fury. which was sweeping over France and gathering wrath against the horrid atrocities of ‘‘’89.’? He had before him the vision of Marie Antoinette, ‘‘ glittering like the morning star, full of life and splendor and joy,’ and felt that, through unbelief and passion, the props of stable government and morals were being broken and de- WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 83 stroyed. The ‘‘divine right of kings”’ was yet anarticle of common faith, and he saw their sorrow, but heard not the wail of anguish which ascended from the oppressed and starving people. Rage against the lawless Parisian mob filled him, and in his wrath he spoke as if en- venomed hate had made him mad; and he was so ad- judged, but only by those who differed from him. The inspiration of his genius gave him the tongue of truth, and the penalty was an assault upon his sanity. Then came the supreme sorrow of his life, the death of his son, and in his grief he wrote: ‘‘The storm has gone over me, and I lie like one of those old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me ; I am stripped of my honors ; | am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the earth. Lam alone, I have none to meet my ene- mies in the gate; . . . [liveinaninverted order. They who ought to have succeeded me have gone before me; they who should have been to me as posterity are in the place of ancestors.”’ Because of the outward expressions of grief which were at times his, as when his son’s favorite horse came to him and put its head upon his bosom, which caused Burke to cry aloud in his sorrow—because of such mani- festations of grief, itis said Burke was mad. Edward Everett has well said: ‘‘ If I were called upon to desig- nate the event or the period in Burke’s life that would best sustain a charge of insanity, it would not be when, in a gush of the holiest and purest feeling that ever stirred the human heart, he wept aloud on the neck of his dead son’s favorite horse.’’ As proof that his in- tellect was not disordered, his Letters on a Regicide Peace, written in 1796, a year before his death, bear ample evidence, and are regarded, says John Morley, ‘in some respects the most splendid of all his compo- sitions. . . . We hardly know where else to look either in Burke’s own writings or elsewhere for such an 84 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. exhibition of the rhetorical resources of our language.’ That Burke had at times eccentricities and fleeting aberrations may be true, but to call such a man insane, or to speak of him as illustrative of the kinship between genius and madness, is to make sport of facts and mockery of human thought. Notwithstanding the many names I thus take from the roll-call of madness, there are, nevertheless, many gifted minds that have not been absolved from this sad heritage, or been able to bear with calm serenity the misfortunes and burdens of a weary life. Such was Schumann, the eminent composer of music ; and Blake, to whom the realities of the world were but dissolving forms of his own consciousness ; and Clare, who, when his melancholy was deepened by the neglect of family and friends, wrote so plaintively of his own gloom and loneliness. Cowper was timid and morbid, and agonized under religious melancholy and suicidal impulse. The insane temperament was also definitely marked in Comte, the oracle of the ‘* Positive Philosophy” ; in Tasso, whose melancholy fate gave to Goethe the oppor- tunity to picture a psychological drama, wherein char- acter is revealed under the glow of ‘‘ poetic furor,’ and also, at times, oppressed by morbid fears and delusive visions ; in Swedenborg, whose prolific mind teemed with fancies and speculations, contradictions and absur- dities, which can only be explained on the theory of a mind diseased ; and in Charles Lamb, whose ‘‘ diluted insanity ’’ cast an enduring shadow over his life. The facts, as I view them, make me dissent from the - theory that a diseased brain is the physical substratum of genius, or that the possession of such exalted mental endowments ‘‘carries with it special liabilities to the action of the strong disintegrating forces which environ us.’ ‘‘A large genius,” says Dr. Maudsley, ‘‘is plain- ly not in the least akin to madness; but between these WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 85 widely separated conditions a series of connections is made by persons who stand out from the throng of men by the possession of special talents in particular lines of development ; and it is they who, displaying a mixture of madness and genius at the same time, have given rise to the opinion that great wit is allied to madness.”’ To the extent that a nervous organization makes possi- ble excessive emotional life, or vagaries in thought or ac- tion, to this same extent is true genius qualified and lim- ited ; for without calm reason and volitional control cre- ative imagination is distorted into an irresponsible fancy. The degree of perfection of any mechanism, whether it be a watch, an engine, a harp, a telescope, or the human brain, is the measure of the quality of the work which can be produced therefrom ; and, conversely, the quality of the work is an index of the structural character of the instrument employed. The better the finish and adjustment of a mechanism in its various parts, the less will be the friction, and the ‘wear and tear’’ from constant use ; and, although the very delicacy of its adjustment may give a greater sus- ceptibility to disturbing causes, the causes themselves are not inherent but incidental. These facts apply with equal force to that most perfect and complex of all known mechanisms—the human brain, which is energized with the subtile principle of life, and evolves thought, feeling, and will, which, in their noblest and most exalted ex- pressions, are indicative not of disease but of mental health. Nervous and mental diseases are too common among all-classes of people and orders of intelligence, to per- mit us to think that genius is the special object of their dominion. This idea is rejected, not because it is repugnant, but because it is not sustained by facts when measured by the standard of the highest art, or loftiest thought, or greatest work. 86 GENIUS AND MENTAL DISEASE. Look at the scores of eminent names within a hundred years, and show therefrom, if possible, the evidence which justifies the statement that intellectual greatness, is ‘‘ beset with mental and moral infirmity,” or that genius is merely an expression of a morbid mind, akin to madness. Imagination gives to genius—which is the intellectual scout of progress, and the Titan force which organizes the factors of civilization—a realm wherein the soul throbs and burns with the fervor which comes only when a new truth cleaves the darkness and illumines a path- way hitherto unrevealed ; and where the clash and tur- moil of cerebral action excites the highest pleasure, though at the same time they often weary and exhaust. In this century, when the fierce blaze of modern thought has filled the world with unparalleled glory, and the inventive genius of man has made the earth a vast workshop of industrial arts, wherein the human brain is ‘‘master-workman’”’ over all, how rare is it that the brain-worker feels the oppression of a ‘‘ mind diseased,” except when, like the wage-worker, he frets and worries under the burdens of a weary life, and falls by the way- side because the struggle for existence—keen, sharp, and relentless—has taken from him the inspiration, the strength of hope! Mental stagnation, personal or domestic sorrow, social inthrallment, religious excitement, crushed hopes, and poverty, are the chief moral causes which contribute so largely to the mental infirmities of man. In conclusion, I hesitate not to say that the most il- lustrious names of ancient or modern times—in all de- partments of human thought or activity—have been, with but few exceptions, loyal to the sovereign rule of sane reason; and the sweep of their imagination has been in curves which rounded in the bright empyrean of truth and beauty. VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE. 87 JANUARY 4, 1887—THIRTY-FIFTH REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., president in the chair. Twenty members and one hundred seventy-five guests present. James M. Taylor, D.D., and Mr. James Winne were elected active members. James M. DeGarmo, Ph. D., gave an address en- titled ‘‘ Pre-Historic Man in America,’’? by whichit was sought to establish by varied forms of evidence the fact of man’s existence on this continent long before there were any historic accounts. The usual term, ‘‘paleolithic’’ man, was avoided, and the issue kept clear on the pre-historic basis. The existence of skeletons or parts of skeletons under strata not made in historic times was taken as substantial proof. Then the refuse heaps along the Atlantic coast, of vast piles of shells, gathered long before the Indians lived here, was still further adduced as evidence. And then the mounds and fortifications of the mound build- ers, with their pipes and pottery, their copper orna- ments and discs representing the sun and moon, the proofs of a civilization in copper mining and copper working, with something of a knowledge of astronomy from the telescope tube of obsidian, were all considered as incontestable witnesses of a mighty population in- habiting this country, in times long before any authen- tic records would indicate. The singular absence of domesticated animals was noted, as was the building of the mounds before the last fluvial subsidence—the last river terrace never being oc- cupied. The similarity of the work of the mound builders, with some Mexican remains and some in Cen- tral America and Peru, would seem to indicate a com- munity of origin, or a close race affinity. All these facts were treated as the real remains of a people or of many peoples, who have left them to tell the story of their ex- istence to other generations. 88 RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR. FEBRUARY 1, 1887—THIRTY-SIXTH REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., president in the chair ; two hundred members and guests present. Rev. Edward Riggs, of Marsovan, Turkey, gave the following address entitled : ‘S RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR.”’ Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen: Our subject this evening pertains to the fascinating region of the Orient, but where is the subtle line which divides *‘ the east’’ from ‘‘the west’?? The abstract scientist will readily answer that there can be no such line. But in defiance of this verdict the tourist has discovered the mystic boundary, and he reports that the line passes in a soméwhat irregular northeast and southwest direction just to the west of Constantinople. When the traveler leaves the Danube at Rustchuk and finds himself on a real Turkish railroad, creeping slowly towards Varna on the Black Sea, a constantly increasing multitude of queer, contradictory, characteristic points bring cumu- lative evidence of the fact that he is crossing that mys- terious line and entering the dreamy realm of the Orient. At the Black Sea port he finds himself in a babel of languages, and for some inexplicable reason, in getting on board the Lloyd steamer, he experiences more confusion, delay and petty annoyance than he has en- countered in his entire journey across Europe. A quick run of a dozen hours brings him to the entrance of the Bosphorus. As he enters the narrow strait which di- vides two continents, a beautiful landscape meets his eye. The heavy swell of the Black Sea changes abrupt- ly to the perfectly steady quiet of harbor water, while the dark blue waves still dance with a short and merry plash, under the influence of the deep, swift currents, that sweep on down through the channel. The eastern and western shores, constantly approaching nearer and EDWARD RIGGS. 89 nearer to each other present a pleasing variety of green hillside, luxuriant grove and garden, and rocky shore or sandy beach But high above all other objects, perched on the summit of the abrupt hill on the Asiatic side, a venerable ivy-clad castle secures the attention of the be- holder. Its massive walls are crumbling and gray with age, its ports and gateways long since innocent of bolts or panels, yet still its grim battlements look down with a suited but benignant scowl upon the white-winged craft that pass and repass beneath it. At the foot of the hill on which this castle stands, a rude modern building represents the authoritative outpost of the ‘‘ department of public health.’ As your steamer approaches this spot the throb of the engine ceases and a small boat darts out from under the vessel’s side and pulls away with a steady stroke toward the heaith office, bearing the health papers of the vessel. If you are unfortunate enough to fall upon quarantine times, here your steamer will drop anchor, and here you pass your dreary days of imprisonment. While the traveler lingers here,—be it an hour or a week,—he ever has before him the hoary outline of this grand old castle. He can admire it, and study it, and sketch it; he can stretch himself on the deck under the awning and watch the light clouds as they chase each other behind its tenantless turrets. In whatever direction he may turn to enjoy the varied beauties of the scene, his eye will always revert to this curious structure as the one prominent feature in the charming picture. But soon the measured pulsations oi the steamer announce that you are again in motion, and you glide swiftly down with the current, turning back for one last look at that ancient ruin, and wonder- ing whether it is the work of Turk or Greek, Genoese or Venetian. Quickly the green hills close behind you, and with every turnin this wonderful Bosphorus you find yourself apparently in a new and wholly land- 90 RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR. locked lake. The shores begin to be dotted with resi- dences which cluster together at certain points in quaint- looking villages, nestling down amid a rich luxuriance of trees and vines. Most striking among the fresh green foliage are the brilliant rose-colored masses of the curious judas tree. while the graceful stone pines rise majestically on the crest of the hills. Neat modern kiosks peep out from amid the garden shrubbery, and the palaces of ambassador and pasha occupy choice po- sitions on the very edge of the water, while an oc- casional minaret raises its slender peak, bringing to mind that strange faith which prevails in this seeming fairy-land. The ‘‘Giant’s mountain” rises high on your left, where Mohammedan tradition seats the Bible hero Joshua, and depicts him, from this lofty seat, bath- ing one foot in the Black Sea and the other in the Bosphorus. In an enclosure on the top of the mountain a signiticant-looking mound, measuring some thirty-six feet in length, is called his tomb, but the assiduous at- tendant explains that it contains only his head. Nearly opposite this point, on your right, stretches away a wide plain, in which Peter the Hermit, is said to have en- camped his motley horde, eight hundred years ago, and in the middle of it stands an immense plane-tree, which tradition identifies as the very one under which that leader’s tent was pitched. As your steamer sweeps gracefully around another point and opens up another panorama, there rises di- rectly in front of you another and a grander pile of ancient castle. Knormous stone towers, some round, ‘some square, and some hexagonal, follow each other up the steep hillside, connected together by huge parapeted walls. Hach of these immense towers has a double row of battlements, the inner parapet rising above the outer, and their heavy walls are pierced with slender loop-holes. This chain of walls and towers enclose a large irregu- EDWARD RIGGS. Oil larly shaped space on the very point of an abrupt promontory and reaching from the very water’s edge clear up to the brow of the hill. This enclosure is now filled with dwellings, the battlements are dismantled, and the heavy portals unhinged, only a small part of the enclosure being used for modern military purposes. This remarkable structure bears the name of the ‘‘Castle of Europe,’’ and directly opposite it stands the “*Castle of Asia,’? which enjoys a less striking location, but is still a formidable looking fortress. Many are the traditions about these strange old ruins. Their origin is ascribed in turn to each one of the successive powers which have controlled this important strait. But whether built by Genoese or Turk, as military defences they belong to an age long past, and are now chiefly in- teresting from their extremely picturesaque appearance, their strange grouping and still perfect symmetry form- ing a very striking and attractive outline against the rich colors of that oriental background, and their gray walls, presenting a most pleasing contrast to the dark cypresses which stand guard over the dust of the ‘*faithful’’ who le buried at their feet. If we take this splendid ruin as the type of this old and crumbling monarchy with its darkness and tradi- tions of the past, we have not far to seek also for the symbol of the bright future of an enlightened and re- formed people. Just back of the old castle, on still higher ground, and commanding a superb view of one of the most magnificent panoramas in the world, stands that monument of Americanenterprise and philanthropy, —founded by a citizen of New York—Robert college. With its fresh walls and clean-cut angles, its mansard roof and cheerful windows, it is indeed a most pic- turesque contrast to its venerable but useless neighbor. The ancient and medizeval is mouldering rapidly away, while all that tells of hope and cheer in the future for 92 RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR. that dark and unfortunate land clusters about the re- cently established progressive Christian institutions of education and religion. But your steamer hastens on, and you turn from this remarkable group of buildings, old and new, to scan the ever thickening beauties all about you. For another half hour you sail along down between rows of glitter- ing palaces along the water’s edge with a widening belt of densely packed suburban quarters covering the steep hills back of them, until at length your vessel swings into her berth under the very walls of the city of the Constantines. Here you have, not a detached castle or group of towers, but a great city entirely encircled by a continuous chain of huge towers connected by massive walls. About two-thirds of this circuit have the ad- ditional protection of the sea or the harbor. On the land side, to compensate for this, there was a triple wall. Much of this still stands in ivy-clad majesty, though huge fissures yawn in many places, the dread work of repeated earthquakes, and long stretches of what was once a deep fosse between the outer and the middle wall is now a luxuriant vegetable garden. There are six gates on this landward side; each one has its own special features of interest and each is flanked by great towers, while above them all cluster innumerable reminiscences and traditions of blood and violence, of seige and assault, of heroism and of villany. At the southwest angle, where the Jand wall runs down to the Marmora Sea, is a most interesting group called the ‘‘ Seven towers.’’ Here the ancient builders put up tower after tower with lavish prodigality, as if, forsooth, by their very numbers these structures could support each other and render absolutely impregnable this criti- cal point in the defences of the city. These are some of the castles in and near the great capital, and with such a superficial glance many trav- EDWARD RIGGS. 93 elers are satisfied. If they would only turn aside a lit- tle out of the well-worn path of the standard guide books, they would find Asia Minor filled to overflowing with points of deep interest. Centres of ancient civili- zation, scenes of memorable battles, homes of renowned men, and relics of wonderful architecture and sculpture lie waiting to be recognized by the modern world when it shall get wearied of its present favorite haunts. Ancient history, classical history, medizeval and modern history, secular and ecclesiastical history, each has left its dis- tinct marks upon this much reconquered land. Thoroughly interwoven with the past life of Asia Minor are the names of Homer and his heroes, of Cyrus and Creesus, of Darius and Alexander, of Strabo and Diogenes, of Mithridates and Julius Cesar, of St. Paul and St. John, of Timothy and Polyearp, of Constantine and Julian, of Gregory and Basil, of Genghis Khan and Tamerlane, of Othman and Bayszid, and a multitude of others. But were all historic interest set aside the country would still be worthy of careful attention and study, for aside from the deep interest attaching to its present inhabitants there are broad fields for investigation and enjoyment in its natural scenery, its geology, its fauna and flora and its climatic characteristics. There is, however, scarcely anything which will strike the ordinary traveler so remarkably as the numerous castles which meet the eye. Modern warfare has de- veloped the use of gunpowder to such a degree that the old-fashioned castle holds a much less important posi- tion in relation to other means of offence and defence than it did in ancient times. Yet, that it has not wholly lost its power and usefulness, witness such important castles as are familiar to all, or that perhaps less known but not less heroic castle at Kars on the border between Russia and Asia Minor. Thisremarkable fortress, after 94 RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR. a long siege by the Russians in 1855, during the Crimean war, was at last reduced only by starvation, and in 1877 was carried by assault by the same enemy, after many efforts and at a terrible cost of life. By the settlement which followed the latter warin 1878, this much-coveted prize was allowed to remain in the hands of Russia. But the castles which, like this one, are still held as highly important by modern military art, are the excep- tions, and are rendered worthy of such distinction by some peculiar advantage of position or construction. The great mass of those elaborate structures on which past ages have expended such untold energies, stand now, splendid relics of a bygone age, but substantially useless for modern practical purposes. Asia Minor is full of such wholly or partially aban- doned castles. They were the pride and dependence of former times, and much skill and taste were displayed in the choice of sites for them. Perched on abrupt and lofty eminences they look down with patronizing dig- nity at the clustered dwellings at their feet, and have in many cases decided the location and even the character of a town. The geological structure of the country favored this passion for castle-building—mountainous and rugged, and full of abrupt cliffs and deep gorges, it furnished matchless sites ready to the hand of feudal lord or military ruler. In many instances the conver- gence of two mountain streams has determined the lo- cation of a settlement. These streams in long ages have cut themselves deep channels leaving between them a narrow and precipitous rock. This being seized upon by the military instinct of some local authority, a castle is the result, and this in turn causes the growth of the village into a city. In other cases in the very midst of some broad aliuvial plain a huge rock will stand, like an island in the sea, as abrupt as Dumbarton castle or Gibraltar, and nearly as high. On this some local chief EDWARD RIGGS. 95 has fixed his stronghold, and gradually about the base of it a town grows up. These castles by their very location are rendered pic- turesque in the extreme. And this appearance is en- hanced by many circumstances. Their long disuse has allowed them to fall into decay. Crumbling arches, and huge rents in massive masonry; broken columns and ivy-covered battlements produce endless variety of pleasing contrast. And then a new source of variety is in the different styles of structure employed in producing these results. These castles are not all the work of one dynasty or of one people. There is every stage of ad- vance in the art of architecture, from the primitive and massive cyclopean efforts of prehistoric races down through the chaste and painstaking products of Greek skill and the mathematical nicety and_ utilitarian shrewdness of the Roman, to the lavish ornamentation of the Seljookian, and later still the servile imitation or vandal destructiveness of the Ottoman Turk. These different types sometimes stand alone as characteristic specimens, but more frequently, in the castles at least, they are piled upon one another in strange confusion, demanding careful examination to discover the line of division, but rewarding such patient investigation by furnishing indubitable testimony to the successive steps in the historic narrative. A further point of variety is as regards their location with reference to the sea, some being on the coast, and others inland. Of the latter few ever fall under the eye of the tourist, and even of those on the coast,'aside from those mentioned in the vicinity of the capital, the ex- tensive castle on the hill behind Smyrna is about the only one known to the general traveler. But some of the most historic and picturesque are found on the Black Sea coast of Asia Minor. The town of Trebizond, near the eastern end of this 96 RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR. coast, possesses a venerable castle, replete with thrilling historical memories. For two and a half centuries this was the seat of an independent Greek empire, the last struggling remnant of the great old Greco-Roman em- pire. And now, after four long centuries of Turkish domination, the inhabitants have a decidedly Hellenic cast of character, and the family language among the Greek portion of the community is still essentially the language of Xenophon, preserving, indeed, many archa- isms which have been lost out of the more polished lan- guage of Athens and Constantinople. As you walk about the neglected ruins of that once famous fortress the na- tive Greek who accompanies you will sigh over the mis- erable misrule of the present government, and glancing furtively about to assure himself that no Turk will over- hear him, he will ina hoarse whisper, pour forth a rapid torrent of invectives against this unrighteous usurpation, and tell you of the secret hopes which, his people cherish of an extension of the present Greek kingdom till it achieves a restoration of the old boundaries and prestige of the Byzantine empire. Another noteworthy castle of the Byzantine period stands on a remarkable promontory at Sinope, which is located at the northernmost and central point of this Black Sea coast. This point of land runs out into the sea in such a position as to form the finest harbor on this entire coast. Unlike most such castles, this is not dismantled and deserted. The sentry paces constantly before the heavy, iron-bound gate, and the blood-red moslem standard floats over the patched and renovated walls and towers, while old-fashioned bronze cannon point their smooth bores through the deep embrasures. One reason for this vigilance is that this fortress is uti- lized by the Turkish government as a state prison. Were our theme at this time the fertile and somewhat startling one of Turkish prisons it would be in place EDWARD RIGGS. 97 to look a little into the condition of the motley group of wretches, whose begrimed and pallid faces tell each a several tale of woe, and each a varying degree of depravity. But this is too large a subject to allow of even a glance in this connection. As the visitor stands on the ramparts of this restored castle he looks out on the dark and remorseless waves of the treacherous Black Sea. Yet, if he will turn his eyes to the other side of the rock on which he stands he will see spread out beneath him, a spacious harbor, placid as a mountain lake, and dotted with craft of every sort. In this peaceful sheet of water took place, within the memory of most of us, one of the most fearful tragedies in all the records of naval history. Russian habitual jealousy of the Turkish empire found a pretext in 1853 in certain differences of view regarding the relations of Christian sects in the care of the sacred places in Jeru- salem, and the Crimean war was the consequence. The Turks got their fleet in readiness and started out into the Black Sea to take the Russians in hand. By the time they had been at sea acouple of days, so com- pletely was the entire body of men prostrated with sea- sickness that they were obliged to put into port; and they hastily sought the safe and quiet harbor of Sinope, hoping to get their heads level and take a new start. Here the great double-headed Russian eagle swooped down upon them. The Russian fleet pursued them into the harbor and a fierce engagement followed. The Turkish fleet was absolutely annihilated with the ex- ception of one ship, which fled to Constantinople to carry the woful tidings. I was, myself, in Constanti- nople at the time, and I well remember the thrill of horror and indignation which swept through the com- munity upon receipt of the intelligence. The action of the Russians was held to be one of treachery, and it led ultimately to the western European powers entering the 98 RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR. arena as allies of the Turks. But the name of Sinope will always be associated with this sudden and terrible disaster to the Turkish fleet. Half way from Sinope to Trebizond lies the small fish- ing town of Unieh. It is well known in ancient history as Cinde, and is not far from the celebrated Thermodon where the Amazons exhibited their charms and their valor. While on the other side of it lies the region filled with iron ore, which was worked by the Chalybes of old. This ore, after yielding an unwilling tribute to those old workmen, was cast aside as useless, but in these days it is being remelted and forced, by more modern but still very rude processes, to give forth still further treasure. The town of Unieh, though built partly on a bold promontory, boasts nothing within its limits in the way of a castle, but the traveler will be well rewarded fora pilgrimage of about three miles to the castle of the region. Just east of the town a small stream empties into the Black Sea. The valley which brings this stream down from the high mountain range runs back a considerable distance inland, and is beauti- fully diversified with cultivated field and shady grove. Right in the midst of it, about a league from the shore, stands a wonderful perpendicular rock rising five hundred feet of sheer precipice from the level of the valley. On and about the summit of this cliff is perched an old castle, the site of which ‘might make an eagle dizzy, and the construction of which must have been a herculean undertaking. The rear or landward side of this rock is connected with the mountain chain by a sort of neck on which a little village has tucked itself under the shelter of the fortress. But after you scramble up to this village you havea nearly perpendicular wall of over two hundred feet still above you, and the narrow foot path to the castle goes meandering about the face of the steep rock in a way EDWARD RIGGS. 99 which tends to reconcile one to not being able to reach the actual summit. About half way up the smooth face of this upper part of the rock is seen a tetrastyle temple cut into the solid rock. This is now wholly inaccessible, the path to it having been entirely obliterated by time, and the villagers have no tradition of any one’s having actually reached the highest point. Yet there, on the very top, stand the ruins of the innermost citadel of what was once undoubtedly a very strong castle. Its casemates, and walls, and bastions extend for some dis- tance down the rock, and a heavy gateway a short dis- tance above the village marks the lower limit of its fortifications. But who built it? What its date or pur- pose or history? Who can tell? There it stands; an embodied and unsolved enigma, giving the imagination free scope to account for its mysteries. This castle contains one striking feature which may be alluded to hereas characteristic also, of a number of other castles which we have yet to mention. It is a curious subterranean excavation, the purpose of which has been a Subject of discussion, some supposing that these exca- vations were intended for secret entrances and exits, or for means of communication with outside parties in case of siege, while others give other and more improbable explanations. If a humble opinion may be allowed, it may be suggested that Strabo not only explains their object, but in his mention of those he was familiar with, he throws a flood of light upon the date, for example, of this castle, where the same structure is found as that which he describes, carrying us back at least two thou- sand years to find the original designer of these castles and their underground works. He calls them vopeta- hydreia, that is, aqueduct or reservoir. Each of these— and they are found in all the castles of the kind which I have visited—consists of a large, deep, straight cut- ting, not perpendicular, but at about an angle of forty-five 100 RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR. degrees. It is about ten feet in diameter and goes down to a great depth. The bottom is always filled with stones and rubbish so that the exact depth cannot be measured in any instance, but some of them are still open to a depth of three hundred feet, and how much farther they went could only be ascertained by removing the debris at the bottom, thus emulating the almost in- calculable labor of the original diggers. In some a spring of delicious cool water is found at the bottom, and in others the water has filled up the well to its very mouth, while others still are perfectly dry, as now par- tially filled up. The conclusion is that the original castle builders considered it a prime requisite to have an unfailing supply of water, and so they chose their spot and pushed their shaft down and down till they struck water, which, once reached, would never fail them. The angle was undoubtedly chosen to facilitate descent, and for this purpose steps were originally cut, all the way down, though these are for the most part ob- literated or covered up. An angle of forty-five degrees, however, without steps is not an easy grade to ascend or descend, over loose stones and sand and earth moist- ened by the underground dampness. Hence the lu- dicrous is not wholly lacking from the experiences of such curious persons as insist on exploring these caverns. As when, with lighted taper, after a few cautious steps, you find yourself sliding rapidly and ir- resistibly downward into the darkness in some prepos- terous position, or reaching out to grasp what appears like a projection from the rocky wall, you find you have clutched and carried away a bat, who was inno- cently sleeping, suspended, head downward, by his claws. The rock on which this castle is built consists in part of a coarse conglomerate, containing large peb- bles of all varities of agate, carnelian, jasper, onyx and chalcedony. And it is an interesting coincidence that EDWARD RIGGS. 101 Mithridates the Great, who ruled in these parts a hun- dred years before the beginning of our era, is said by contemporaneous writers to have possessed a rare col- lection of gems in this line,—cups and ornaments of Jasper and amethyst, etc. These were doubtless pro- duced near this spot, and I have picked up both there and along the neighboring sea coast, pebbles of these materials of striking beauty. One more of these castles on the Black Sea coast de- serves special mention. Farther to the east than Unieh and not far from Trebizond is the town of Kerasus, from which name, by the way, we derive our word cherry. This place is now the chief centre of the filbert-growing industry, the whole country round about being devoted to the raising of this toothsome nut, of which thousands of sacks are shipped annually to southern Russia and elsewhere. A huge mass of igneous rock juts out into the sea, forming a small, open harbor on each side, and the town is situated on the neck of this precipitous promontory. On its summit are the ruins of another of these old castles, and its claims to very great antiquity are well authenticated. This castle was first built by Pharnaces, grandfather of the great Mithridates, and strengthened and improved by the latter. Here he placed his sisters and his wives during his wars with Lu- cullus the Roman general, and when hard pressed by the Romans he sent his steward Bacchides to the castle at Kerasus, with the request that he would kindly strangle those ladies rather than let them fall into the hands of Lucullus. This delicate mission he performed, but whether in such a way as to please the ladies or not the historian fails to state. In one corner of this castle enclosure the local Turkish court holds its sessions, and the learned Kadi placidly strokes his long beard, innocently ignorant of the po- tent precedents so close at hand for the injustice which he dispenses. 102 RUINED CASTLES IN ASIA MINOR. When you leave the sea-coast and strike inland you soon find that you have not left the castles all behind you. On the great post road from the seaport of Sam- soon to Bagdad, the first large town, sixty-five miles from the sea, is Amasia, the chief capital of Mithridates, and birthplace of that most enterprizing of ancient geo- graphers, Strabo. His description of the castle and its surroundings would answer for a page of a modern guide-book, so accurately and in detail does he set forth many points justas they are. The river Ivis at this point winds its way tortuously through a deep gorge between high, steep cliffs, like the canons of some of our western rivers. Down in the very bottom of this gorge lies the city of Amasia, the victim of furious winds in winter and fierce heat reflected from the rocks in summer. Near to the narrowest point in the ravine the river is joined by a small tributary, which at a sharp angle cuts its way through the hills, leaving between the two riv- ers a narrow rock six hundred fifty feet high, with two faces almost perpendicular, and only accessible on the rear where it joins the mountain range. Here the Kings of Pontus built their castle, and here they de- fended their treasure and asserted their authority. And truly a noble site it is! commanding a view not only of the river and the city immediately beneath, but far up and down the several valleys which converge here, and are filled with an almost tropical wealth of trees, vines and shrubbery, dotted here and there with silk factories in the mulberry orchards, and flour mills on the river bank. The castle itself isa huge structure with an im- mense amount of massive masonry, but with very little of what we should call method and plan. Much energy has been wasted in modern times in excavations at various points within these ancient walls in the vain hope of discovering buried treasure. This passion ex- hibits itself in ill-directed efforts in connection with al- EDWARD RIGGS. 103 most every site of ancient buildings throughout the country, and has occasionally led to discoveries of more value to the antiquarian than to the hungry seeker after gold. A find of another sort was made a few years ago in thiscastleat Amasia. “Uppy Se yp, By = ae ng 2 LSS ie, egy Boieal Boa ne o Se Ragas é- Q Eanes Sa i es j ee SS (NG a ee : act A SSS AON Siti bye { 3 eS 7 hi sg Bah & =— ame =: Wid ty Othe. 2 f- > 1 ee (ne ae 0 Se E Df yay opii 7 ty (ey pe = SoS i 12/1 my —— —_— ch ¢ i Hudson River Shald Porsd Vertical section ‘im the Tine 2&, across tha Sstriké. Limestone of uncertain horizon, but cither Potsdam, Calciferous, or Trenton, Potsdam mainly under drift. = Potsdam, prominent outcrops. =| Eas Hudson River Group largely under drift wet Fossiliferous Potsdam. ale 1250 ft. to the inch. Sec Tomment outcrops. Hudson River Group, (By error this plate is referred to as plate VI. on page 131.) WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. 141 and characteristic fossils, as encrinal columns, Lepfwena sericea, etc. The terminal bluff at the river is composed of both formations, the fault running along its summit, but near the northwestern edge. As the extreme southwestern point of the bluff is reached, the line of fault drops down its northwestern side, and the shales at last disappear, leaving the point in possession of the limestone. After careful examination I am satisfied that some, if not all, of the moulding sand is produced by the decomposition of the arenaceous Potsdam. In- deed, the process may now be seen going on in the layers of sandy limestone. It is very probable that the Potsdam may now be further traced across the Hudson river somewhere near Marlborough. In plate I will be found a small map showing the entire extent of the fault above de- scribed. It is proper to state here that I have strong reason to suspect the presence of a parallel belt of Potsdam limestone, more than amile to the east of the present one, in the most eastern of the three belts of limestone. The particular locality which has furnished ‘grounds for the above statement is on the summit of the ridge about half a mile southerly from the mansion on the MacPherson (late Boardman) place. The rock corresponds closely in its lithological characters with that of the Smiley locality. I have found here but a single fossil—about half of one valve of a brachiopod, which, as far as it goes, corresponds per- fectly with Lingulepis pinniformis. I believe it to be this fossil, and that consequently the rock is Primordial, but cannot say that the evidence is absolutely conclusive. EXPLANATION OF PLATE. A, Hill of fossiliferous Potsdam on Smiley’s farm. B, Hill of Potsdam, partially conglomerate, on Smiley’s farm. D, C, Extensions of hill B. D is largely conglomerate. E, Hill containing much fine-grained, blue, thinly fissile calcareous shale of the Potsdam group ; a few specimens of Lingulepis pinniformis have been found here. ¥F, Calcareous quartzyte, Potsdam group. The lane between the wall and fence just south of the hills E and F is the southern bound- ary of Mr. Smiley’s farm; at present date no Potsdam fossils, except stromatocerium, have been found in this belt south of this line. G, One of the best localities for inspecting the Potsdam limestone and calcareous shale composing this long hill. Stromatocerium is found here. From the summit of this hill a good view is presented of the wide plain of Hudson river shale which extends westward from its base. H, A small quarry of arenaceous limestone apparently Potsdam, in the field belonging to W. 5S. Johnston, I, A high ridge of light and dark-colored limestones, well exhibited at the spring here indi- cated ; horizon of the rocks doubtful. K, Outcrops of Hudson river shale at the surface of the ground within a few feet of the Potsdam hill B. L, Small quarry of compact, gritty layers of the Hudson river group, dipping at a low angle. O, Hilly outcrops of Hudson river shale in field north of the driving park. M, (In smali included map), moulding sand and dock. 7, (In small included map), outcrops of fossiliferous Trenton on the eastern margin of this limestone belt. FEBRUARY 10, 1886—FORTY-FOURTH REGULAR MEETING. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., chairman, presiding. The following paper was read : 25 142 INTERPRETATION OF GENESIS. THE INTERPRETATION OF GENESIS. (CONDENSED FROM THE ORIGINAL PAPER.) BY CHARLES B. WARRING, Ph.D. In Prof. Huxley’s paper in the Wineteenth Century for December, 1885, on the ‘‘Interpreters of Genesis and Nature,’ he cries out against the varying interpre- tations which have been given to the story of creation, in the first chapter of Genesis. In my limited way, I sympathize with Prof. Huxley in his desire for something that will not change as new facts come up. I wish that I had the gift of all knowl- edge so that my physical theories would accord with all new facts. Scientists have learned to make their theo- ries as best they can, in view of all truth known to them, and it is thought no disparagement that they change as new facts come up. An interpretation made to reconcile Genesis with science needs remodeling with every advance in knowl- edge, while one made on its own merits will stand for- ever, leaving scientists to change their theories to suit their own notions. The following rules, if observed, will remove the re- proach so often thrown upon this narrative : 1. Words should be taken invariably in the mean- ing determined by lexicon and grammar, and by use elsewhere. 2. Where the English Bible differs from the Hebrew, the latter is supreme. . 3. Every sentence is to be taken to mean exactly what it says. 4. The order is to be unchanged. 5. The account is not to be condemned for the erron- eous statements or explanations which have been made by its friends. 26 CHARLES B. WARRING. 1438 The friends of this account may object to such in- tense literalism, but certainly its opponents will not. Prof. Huxley’s criticisms are based upon the assumed existence in the Mosaic account, of acertain ‘‘central idea, the maintenance of which,” he says, ‘‘is vital, and its refutation fatal,’ viz: ‘‘That the animal species which compose the water population, the air population, and theland population, respectively, originated during three distinct and successive periods of time.’ This ‘‘central idea’’ is, as every geologist knows, false, therefore, he says, the story is not of superhuman origin. But does the Mosaic account contain that ‘‘central idea’’? Is it his ‘tidea,’’? or is it Prof. Huxley’s, or rather, a tradition, which Prof. Huxley has accepted without examination 4 The only fair way to decide this is by an examination of the story itself. It says that at a certain time the waters swarmed with water creatures, among which were ‘‘whales”’ and fowl. Prof. Huxley’s ‘‘ central idea”’ needs to interpolate ; ‘Cand there never was any life in the waters, norany fowl], before that.”’ The Mosaic statement is true; as to previous life, it is silent. Prof. Huxley ventures to fill the hiatus with what he thinks Moses would have said, if he had said anything about it. I read farther on, that at a certain time the earth brought forth cattle, beasts, and creeping things. Prof. Huxley’s ‘‘centralidea’’? needs to interpolate; ‘‘and there were no land animals before that.” He places a physical falsehood in the mouth of Moses, and then says: ‘‘How unworthy of scientific notice; how utterly false ; two statements in a few lines, which every geologist knows are not true. Hence it is plain that the story is a myth.” But Moses is not responsible for what any one may have said, or believed. By our rules we are to take his account as it stands. Nothing is plainer than that 27, 144 INTERPRETATION OF GENESIS. neither the water, air, nor land population described in this account, refers to the origin of life, @.e., to the first living creatures on our globe. What right then has any one to say that the author of this story intended to speak of the first water, or land population 4 It will add to the interest of this discussion if we go back farther than the work of the fifth and sixth periods, and note what is said about vegetation. I read of herbs yielding seed and fruit trees. Sucha flora certainly did not belong to a horizon’ where the highest types were alge. The writer names plants of the very latest order— that is all. But Prof. Huxley’s ‘‘central idea”? would add: ‘‘and there was no vegetation before that.” Everybody knows that there was vegetation for mil- lions of years before, hence Moses stands convicted of falsehood for what he does not say, but which Prof. Huxley thinks he would have said if he had said any- thing about it! Now, what are the facts of our world’s history, and how do these statements of Genesis fit in with them ? That I may run no risk of wrongly stating the con- sensus of geologists, I quote from Prof. Huxley’s Lay Sermons, No. X: ‘‘The following proposition is re- garded by the mass of paleontologists and geologists, not only on the continent but in this country, as ex- pressing some of the best established results of paleon- tology. Thus:—Animals and plants began their ex- istence together, and then succeeded one another in such a manner, that totally distinct faune and flore occupied the whole surface of the earth, one after the other, and during distinct epochs of time.”’ ‘‘A geological fauna or flora is the sum of al the species of animals or plants which occupied the whole surface of the globe, during one of the epochs.”’ 1 “On the same horizon” is said of fossils and strata of one age. Imperial Dictionary. 28s CHARLES B. WARRING. 145 There were many ‘‘epochs,’’ perhaps fifty, so many at least are named by Dana in his Manual of Geology (pp. 142, 143). I note a few which are of peculiar im- portance either in themselves, or in relation to this ac- count. In the earliest epoch, are found traces of marine plants only, and the lowest forms of animal life. Geo- logists call this the Archean Age. In another, the lower Silurian, many centuries later, sea-weeds and protozoa have added to them, radiates, mollusks, and articulates. In another, perhaps thousands of centuries afterwards, all these, plus some land plants, are found, but no fruit trees. This is the upper Silurean. In another, centuries later, more land plants, but no fruit trees, and in the waters, fishes. The Devonian Age. In yet another, there were the same types of animal and vegetable life, plus land animals, but still no trees whose fruit enclosed the seed ; there were land animals, but no mammals. The Carboniferous Age. In a yet later epoch, the Cretaceous, there is found added toa varied animal life, and to old types of plants, a flora which includes herbs yielding seed and trees bearing fruit-whose seed is inside of it, but not of present species. Later again, we come to an epoch, the Tertiary, that contains grasses, herbs yielding seed, and fruit trees bearing fruit. Dr. Newberry, in his address before the Torrey botanical club, published in their Bulletin for July, 1880 (page 79,) says: ‘‘Our present flora is but a relic of that of the Tertiary. We have already col- lected from Tertiary strata in various parts of our country the remains of more species of fruit trees than are now growing on its surface.’’ The flora of the Pliocene—the last of the Tertiary—is largely yet living. 29 146 INTERPRETATION OF GENESIS. As to the animals of the Tertiary, the fishes, whales, birds and mammals, Prof. Dana, page 518 of his Manual, says: ‘‘ All the fishes, birds, reptiles and mammals are extinct species.”’ After this there were several—not many-—successive epochs. One in the Quaternary, contained a fauna of fishes, amphibians, or reptiles, mammals and birds. There were whales and seals. Most of the birds are still represented. Some however have died out very re- cently ; say within a century or less. Of the others, save the mammals, all kinds, so far as known, are still in existence. The mammals are nearly all extinct.’ Whether the whales are all extinct, I cannot say. Per- haps ‘‘ Tannim’’ should be rendered great sea mon- sters, or simply great fishes ; in any case they were great water vertebrates. Coming still farther down the record, we arrive at the last epoch, that which is characterized by the presence of living species of cattle, beasts and creeping things. In brief, then, we find many successives epochs, none of which contain the plants, or animals, named in» Genesis, but near the end of the long series, viz, in the Pliocene, Quaternary, and Present, we find in the first, a flora with grasses, herbs and fruit trees as of to- day, in the second, ‘‘a water, and an air population, and (in the third,) a land population” identical with those now living. Putting the two records side by side, we may more easily compare them. GENESIS. . GEOLOGY. Grasses, herbs and fruit trees are Grasses, herbs and fruit trees placed before the ‘‘living” crea- | appeared before living species of tures of water, air and land. | water, air and land animals.’ 1 Page 335, Nicholson’s Ancient Life History. Also Dana’s Manual Geology, page 563, 3d ed. 2 Dana, Man. Geol. page 515. 3O CHARLES B. GENESIS. After such a flora, we are told that God created great whales and living water creatures and fowl. WARRING. 147 GEOLOGY. After fruit trees and the other plants, whales and other water creatures of living kinds, and fowl, of present species, made their ap- pearance. After all the above, we read: Let the earth bring forth the liv- ing creature after its kind, cattle and creeping thing and the beast of the earth. And it was so. Here, so far as I can see, is perfect agreement in the statements and in their order. As to all other matters pertaining to life, its ex- istence prior to these last three epochs, its mode of development, and many other things, about which ‘*science’’ gives us facts, or theories, it is silent, but silence is not falsehood. I have purposely said nothing about man, or to what horizon he belongs. I have but little to say now. Until geologists know much more than they do, it will be im- possible to speak with certainty of the date of his ap- pearance. Our inflexible canon is to be applied here also. ‘* The account is responsible only for what it says.”’ AsI read the record, God made cotemporaneously with, or subsequently to the cattle and beasts, a pair of human beings whom he named Adam and Eve. barred by this literal view from adding, never made any other men.’ I do not know whether he did or not. Indeed there are intimations in other parts of Genesis, that are hard to understand on any theory other than that a prior race existed. Irefer to Cain’s fear that whoever met him would kill him, and to the sons of God marrying the daughters of men. Ido not know what the truth is. The lesson taught by the failures of others, shouid teach us to wait in pa- tience, believing that the ae can take care of itself. After living plants, and present water animal, and fowl, cattle and other living land animals, and beasts made their appearance. lam ‘‘and God 148 INTERPRETATION OF GENESIS. To this literal rendering of the account it may be ob- jected that it runs counter to the belief of the world, for it has been held that Moses recorded the introduction of life, and not the close of the long series of ‘‘ horizons” which preceded the present. But to scientists, such as Prof. Huxley, and those of similar belief, this will have little weight, since, being embarrassed with no theological bias, the question with them will be—or at least ought to be—Does the story say what has been attributed to it? and is Prof. Hux- ley’s ‘‘central idea’’ an interpolation for which the author of this account is in no wise responsible ? That it is an interpolation follows from the spirit of the rules laid down by us. ‘‘ The account is responsible only for what is in it.’”’ To make the injustice of Prof. Huxley’s claim more evident I add his ‘‘ central idea”’ to each statement. It then becomes glaring. And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the tree bearing fruit whose seed is in itself, and it was so. And this was the first vege- table life on the earth. And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly in the expanse of heaven. And this was the begin- ning of animal life on the earth. No water, air, or land animals had lived till then. And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, creeping things and beasts of the earth. And it was so. And these were the first land animals in the whole earth. Very small geological knowledge will suffice to show that the falsehood, that ‘‘by which the account must . fall,’ is wholly in the added, ‘‘ central idea.”’ If not that, what, then, is the central idea? SofarasI can see, it is simply God’s creatorship of all things. It shows itself everywhere, and markedly in those cases 32 CHARLES B. WARRING. 149 where the fiat is followed by a statement broader than the fiat itself. After calling for certain creatures with which the water was to swarm, it tells us in the next verse, that God was the creator of them and of ‘‘ every- thing that moveth.’’ And so in regard to land animals; the fiat calls for certain creatures. The next verse says, God was the maker of them, and of every ‘‘creeping’’ (or moving) thing. Hence the story claims for God creatorship not merely of the fauna which came into being then, but of any and all, even though their pedigree ran far back into the past. There were in each of these horizons animals coming from horizons farther back, some reach- ing (notably various mollusks) from the Eocene to the present day. God’s creatorship is made to include them also. It is evident such a central idea might have been set forth in various ways. ‘The writer might have made a bare statement that God made the universe and its con- tents. Orto have impressed it more deeply, he might have gone into details, and, taking item by item, in any order that they met his eye as he looked about him, have said that God made each. Thus he might have said : God made man. God made the cattle and all land creatures. God made all water creatures. God made all plants. God made the sun and moon and stars. God made the dry land and the sea, and so on. Tt all would have been true, and it would have been a mental flight far beyond anything else in ancient litera- ture. It is possible, too, that the writer might have placed the plants and animals in their true order. One might guess right two or three times, but when we consider that this harmony, or order, is even more marked in the . 33° 150 THE TOP. earlier periods, and that on a careful analysis this story touches our most recent science in more than thirty im- portant points, and that each statement is in its proper order, the human mind refuses to attribute the coinci- dences to anything less than absolute knowledge on the part of the author of the account. One other thought and I am done. It was science that needed to be reconciled with Genesis. For thou- sands of years, it was far enough away, but at last, un- wittingly it is true, it is a witness to the divine origin of this account. FEBRUARY 24, 1886—FORTY-FIFTH REGULAR MEETING. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., chairman, presiding. The following paper was read : THE TOP. A PAPER SUPPLEMENTARY TO ONE READ BEFORE THE SECTION IN 1885 ON GYRATING BODIES. BY CHARLES B. WARRING, Ph.D. In my paper on gyrating bodies last winter, I said that a top when revolving on a hard, smooth surface, would rise from an oblique toa vertical position, if its ‘‘point”’ was of sensible size, or if it, the point, was ‘‘ out of centre.”’ This experience is socommon that no dispute as to the fact is possible, the only question is as to the reason why. In my paper I offered what seemed to me the true explanation, and summed up as follows: The rising of a top is due indirectly to its traveling, or per- haps it would be better to say: If the ‘‘ point”’ cannot travel, 7. e., change its position, the top cannot rise to a vertical. Mr. Blish, of Niles, Mich., writes that this cannot be true, for he caused a top with a roundish ‘‘point’’ to revolve in a small, cup-like depression, and 34 CHARLES B. WARRING. 151 that nevertheless it rose to a vertical. I had observed the same thing, but did not mention it in my paper, be- cause in all my experiments where this occurred, the depression had been somewhat larger than the ‘‘ point ”’ and consequently permitted it to travel around in a small circle, hence I could not see that there was any real contradiction of what I had said. After receiving Mr. Blish’s letter I devised what seems to me an experimentum crucis, for it permits freedom of rotation and of gyration,’ and yet prevents the ‘‘ point”’ from traveling. The arrangement for this purpose is ll Z of a hollow cone in which the circumference of the ‘‘ point’? touches allaround, thus preventing any motion of translation. The ‘‘point,’’ it will.be noticed, is of considerable size, and flat—a form most favorable for causing a top to rise. On trial I found that the top, although revolving freely, both on its own axis and about a vertical one, would not rise. I then placed it on a pane of glass, thus allowing it to travel, and it rose quickly to a perpendicular. T think this suffices to show that Mr. Blish’s experi- ment proves only that the ‘‘point”’ of the top does not need to travel very much, and as in that I agree with him, I do not see that he proves anything against my statement. 1 All through these papers, gyrate and gyration are used to denote the revolution of the gyrating body around a vertical axis, while rotate and rotation refer to its revolution on its own axis. SS 152 THE TOP. Last winter I spoke of the curious tracings made on smoked glass by the point of a top when left to take its owncourse. I did little more than speak of their exquis- ite beauty, and exhibit some specimens by the photoen- graving process as shown on plate IV, vol. I1., of our Transactions. Although, unfortunately, the tracings are there reversed, and consequently not well adapted to ex- hibit the law which governs these movements, still they serve a useful purpose in some respects, and hence the plate is reproduced as plate II., in this paper. It repre- sents parts of three tracings. The largest, ornumber 1, shows only oneand a half gyrations, when for some reason, I forget what, the top was lifted from the glass plate. The axis was much inclined, and the point (about one-fortieth of an inch in diameter) a little “out — of true,’ hence the wavy, broken appearance. Number 2 was made withthe same point, and with axis less in- clined, the waviness continued, but was more pro- nounced. This was due to the axis being more nearly vertical. The ‘‘point’’ jumped clear of the coating of lamp-black in case of number 1, but pushed it back in case of number 2. Number 3 was made with a needle point, better cen- tered. It is noticeable for its freedom from waviness. The axis, I think, was inclined about as in number 2. The following laws can be experimentally proved : 1. The first spiralis the largest ; the others grow smaller with great uniformity till near the end of the top’s run- ning, when they begin to grow larger, but with far more rapid increase of size. In avery few instances I have seen the spiral commence small and increase to the end. 2. On a pefectly level, and uniformly smooth sur- face the top does not travel. The point simply traces a series of concentric spirals. 36 CHARLES B. WARRING. ‘158 3. Ifthe surface is inclined, the top crosses it at right angles to the inclination, and travels towards that side of the spiral which is up hill. 4. To change its direction, change the inclination at right angles to the way you wish it to go. WHY THE FIRST CURVE OF THE SPIRAL IS THE LARGEST. Let figure 2 represent a top exaggerated for conveni- ence of representation, the actual ‘‘point” being less than one-twentieth of an inch across. If much larger than this, the top will rise so quickly, and describe a path with so large a radius, that it is difficult to study it. The face of the ‘‘point,’’ except where the con- trary is stated, is flat. Suppose the top at the moment represented in our diagram to be revolving rapidly on its axis in the direc- tion indicated by the ellipse around the shaft. The upper end, m, will be approaching the observer, and the lower end, p, will be receding from him. In other words, the instrument is gyrating around the instan- taneous axis, q a, both motions being with the hands of a watch. The rolling of the ‘‘point’’ would carry the top ina straight line from the observer, if its axis kept parallel to itself. But as m swings around the vertical q a, p correspondingly changes its direction, and the distance which it (p) will travel while m is swinging through, 37 154 THE TOP. e. g., 90°, will depend upon the size of the ‘‘ point,”’ the rate, n, at which the top revolves on its axis, and the slowness of m’s movement, 7, e., the slowness of the gyration. Hence, since the size of the point is constant, andn is greatest and the gyration slowest, at first, it follows that the first spiral will be the largest. As n grows less, the gyration becomes more rapid, hence the next curve will be smaller, the next, smaller yet, and so on. As the gyration, the inclination, and the rate, n, may vary indefinitely among themselves, the rate of diminu- tion in the diameter of the spirals will vary almost in- definitely. THE TRAVELING OF THE TOP. It would seem from what has been said that the trac- ing should be a concentric spiral, commencing at the outside. It will be found on trial exceedingly difficult to get the top to make such a path. To approximate to it, the surface must be a plane as nearly level as it can be made. The central figure in plate III represents a tracing on polished plate glass, laid as horizontal as possible with the aid of an ordinary spirit level, yet there was a movement to the left. I have often had tracings in which, although the centre of the spiral travels a little, all the curves were within the larger one, but never one where they were absolutely concen- tric. The other tracings on this, and on plate Il, show abundant movement. These illustrate the third law. We will try to show their rationale. Let figure 3 (page 155) represent a bird’s-eye view of our top, inclined as in figure 2, and in four successive positions, the pin, or shaft, alone being represented. The body of the top may, for the moment, be consid- ered as so transparent as to beinvisible. The arrows show 38s = a | ml a ee HENRY C. TAYLOR. 185 should be quite as urgent to hold a controlling interest in it, as a pillar of strength in peace and in war. Nicaragua has cordially offered to our government canal rights of inestimable importance. It is not for us to Know what wise reasons caused our government to decline this offer. Nicaragua has now and for years offered to certain of our citizens a liberal concession for the construction of a canal. These citizens are to-day unable to accept the offer, though anxious to do so, be- cause the fatal apathy of our capitalists and merchants denies to this project the assurance of financial support. So blind are they to the immense profits accruing from this project, both to themselves and to the country, and vet so keen to see smaller gains in smaller and less secure enterprises, that we are driven to believe at last the old story of the man who saw with ease the flies on the barn door, but could not discern the door itself. Fortunately, light is now dawning, and there is good reason to expect that the next few months will see American citizens of wealth and reputation entering upon this great project, and identifying themselves with this, the greatest of peaceful achievements known fo our century. Let us hope that it will come by peaceful means, that in this instance ‘‘grim-visaged war’’ will not enter into the problem, but that the great canal may draw nations closer together in the bonds of peaceful trade and of en- lightening commerce. Let us think of it as doing for us what we so sorely need, building up for us a vast coastwise traffic of sea-going ships between our At- lantic and Pacific coasts, leading surely to a new birth of that great American shipping which died in our civil war. Let us, looking hopefully into the future, see the canal bringing nearer to us the brave republic of Chili and its neighbors, see it binding Australia and New Zealand to England, Manilla and the Philippines 69 186 THE NICARAGUA CANAL. to Spain, see it, in fact, bringing the whole Pacific close to our doors and to Europe, and making most true and forcible the old motto of ocean commerce, that «The seas but join together The nations they divide.” TEHAUNTEPEC SuHip RatLway (proposed)— Length, 134 miles. Probable cost of construction, $100,000, 000. Probable receipts (gross) $12,500,000 ; (net), $6,000,000. NicaRAGuA CANAL (proposed )— Length (canal) 40 miles ; (river and lake) 130 miles. Locks, 7. Floor of canal, 80-120 feet wide. Surface of canal, 80-300 feet wide. Depth, 28 feet. Probable cost of construction, $100, 000,000. Probable receipts (gross), $12,500,000 ; (net), $12,000, - 000. SuEZ CANAL (completed)— Length, 99.9 statute miles. No locks—a niveau. Floor of canal, 72 feet wide; surface, 190-828 feet wide. Depth, 25 feet. Tonnage using the canal in 18838, 5,775,861 tons. Receipts from tolls during 1883, $13,702.413. Cost of construction, $98,000,000. PanaMA CANAL (constructing)— Length, 46 miles (statute). _ No locks—a niveau. Floor of canal, 72 feet wide; surface, 100-164 feet wide. : Depth, 28 feet. Probable tonnage, if canal is completed, 5,000,000 tons. 70 “IVNVS dIHS VNOVAVIIN -AAMAD SINE AUDATADI HENRY C. TAYLOR. 187 Probable receipts, if canal is completed, $12,500,000. Probable cost of construction, $500,000, 000. SAVING IN DISTANCE AND TIME By ISTHMUS CANAL. : Gain for Gain for Miles. Sailing Ship— Freight Steamer Days. —Days. New York to Hong-Kong, . . 2,450 27 12 Bb VYokohamarsyy ws). 4.200 40 21 HG Callao ra 3 OO 52 22 a Flonolwlweers seu OO 67 35 “ San Francisco, 5 eeearhl) 72 37 APRIL 28, 1886—FORTY-EIGHTH REGULAR MEETING. In the absence of the chairman—Dr. Warring: L. C. Cooley, Ph.D.. presided. The meeting was adjourned to May 4, at which time the following gentlemen were elected officers of the sec- tion for 1886-1887 : Chairman, i ; WILLIAM G. STEVENSON, M.D. Recording Secretary, . Mr. Cuaries N. ARNOLD. Wal TRANSACTIONS OF THE SCIENTIFIC SECTION, 1886-1887. DECEMBER 1, 1886—FORTY-NINTH REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., chairman, presiding ; tweuty members and fifty guests present. KARTHQUAKES. A PAPER READ BEFORE THE SCIENTIFIC SECTION. BY WILLIAM G. STEVENSON, M. D., CHAIRMAN. Members of the Section, Ladies and Gentlemen: The general interest which the recent destruction of Charles- ton has again aroused in relation to earthquakes, must be my excuse for presenting to you this evening a brief résumé of some of the theories and facts relating thereto. For such facts or information as this paper may con- tain, 1am entirely indebted to the general Jiterature on the subject, and in a special manner to the recently published work of Prof. Milne on Harthquakes, which I have followed and from which I have freely quoted. Notwithstanding the fact that in all ages earthquakes have been among the dynamic agencies in nature which have produced the most terrible effects upon man, it is only in very recent years that their phenomena have been studied with any special precision, and even now but little is known as to their true origin. 73 190 EARTHQUAKES. When we recollect, however, that the inductive basis of our knowledge relating to the nature and causes of earthquakes, rests upon our knowledge of chemistry, geology and physical philosophy, which are practically the creations of the present century, it is less strange, than it might at first appear, that we possess so little ac- curate information about these convulsions of the earth. Passing over the fanciful explanations of many an- cient writers relating to the motion of earthquakes, we find that Travagini, in 1679, first entertained the thought that an ‘‘earthquake was a pulse-like motion propagated though solid ground.’ Hooke, in 1690, divided the phenomena into different genera according to the effects produced in elevating, depressing, transport- ing or transforming the earth’s surface or crust. Woodward, in 1695, thought that earthquakes followed from the contact of water with fire in the interior of the earth. Priestley connected them with electrical phe- nomena, while Mitchell, in 1760, thought they came from the impact of asubterranean liquid mass, breaking in waves upon the thin, flexible crust of the earth, which was contorted and thrown into folds as a ‘‘carpet is thrown into undulations when shaken.” Mitchell did not, however, comprehend the true prin- ciples of wave motion, and hence could not satisfacto- rily explain the reason why large areas were almost sim- ultaneously disturbed. It remained for Sir Thomas Young, in 1807, to indi- cate that the real nature of earthquake motion was vi-. bratory, and was ‘‘ propagated through the earth nearly in the same manner as a noise is conveyed through the elie?” To know the true nature of earthquake motion is of first importance—for it is only as we are able to trace these phenomena to their starting place, that we are able to formulate a theory as to their producing cause. 74 WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 191 In obtaining a clear idea, therefore, of vibratory mo- tion, and in proving that earthquake motion is of this character—the foundation was Jaid for the more com- plete unfolding of the idea advanced by Young—which Robert Mallet, in 1846, formulated into a definition which described an earthquake to be—‘‘ the transit of a wave or waves of elastic compression in any direction from vertically upwards to horizontally, in any azimuth, through the crust and surface of the earth, from any center of impulse or from more than one, and which may be attended with sound and tidal waves, dependent upon the impulse and upon circumstances of position as to sea and land.”’ To the waves of elastic compression and extension— which may be designated the rectilinear motions of the molecules—Prof. Milne adds, what he calls the waves of elastic distortion—which may be regarded as the twisting or contorting motion of the masses—as essential to a complete definition of earthquake motion. These elastic waves doubtless exist—but they are seen only by the ‘‘ mind’s eye,”’ and are known by processes of reasoning and not by direct experimental evidence. ‘CA true surface undulation,” like a water-wave, is the only kind of wave motion which thus far responds to the tests applied. Seismology—or that department of physical science which relates to the study of earthquakes—has, largely through the labors of Mr. Mallet, made much progress during the last forty years towards solving the compli- cated questions pertaining to earthquake phenomena. In the experiments which have been made by Milne and Gray to determine the effects produced in the earth’s crust by falling weights—it is found that two distinct sets of vibrations are caused. ‘‘In one set—the normal,”’ says Milne,—‘‘the direction of motion was along a line joining the point of observation with the point from 75 192 EARTHQUAKES. which the disturbance emanated; in the other—or transverse—set, the direction of motion was at right angles to that line.” It is also found that a hill does not cut off the vibra- tions to any large extent, although their direction is mostly transverse as they ascend its side; a pond of water, on the other hand, completely cuts off the vibra- tions, which creep gradually around its margin. The transverse vibrations continue fora longer time. From the report of General Abbot relating to the ex- plosion at Hallet’s point, and the observations of Mr. Mallet in his experiments at Holyhead, we learn that ‘the transit velocity increases with an increase in the intensity of the initial shock.’’ And a higher velocity is attained when an explosion occurs under deep, than under shallow water. General Abbot found that ‘ta high magnifying power of a telescope is essential in seismometric observations ”’ ; that the velocity of transmission is higher in proportion to the violence of the initial shock, and ‘‘ diminishes as the general wave advances”; that ‘‘ the movements of the earth’s crust are complex, consisting of many short waves first, increasing and then decreasing in ampli- tude ; and with a detonating explosive, the interval be- tween the first wave and the maximum wave is shorter than with a slow burning explosive.” Observations taken at the time of earthquakes indi- cate that motion may vary in its direction, and that the — amplitude of the earth’s movements rarely exceeds three or four millimeters; and when it is beyond the elastic limits of the material, fissures in the earth are formed which often open and close with the vibratory movements. The condition and nature of the underlying soil ina measure determines the intensity of the shock, or may neutralize it entirely. The wave, in passing from one 76 '—* Evie WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. OS bed of rock to another of a different character, is par- tially or wholly reflected ; and, in proportion to the amount of reflection or interference, is the shock les- sened: some small portions of earth being free from any shock or movement, while all around. the vibrations are distinctiy and destructively felt. Itis said that ‘‘the Temple of Diana at Ephesus was built on the edge of a marsh, in order to ward off the effect of earthquakes ;’’ and we are told by Pliny that the Catacombs have protected the Capitol of Rome: while others state that the Romans discovered the pro- tecting influence of caverns, deep wells, and quarries against earthquake violence. There is no doubt but the principle therein involved is a correct one. The vibra- ting wave-impulse is interrupted, because the continuity of the medium through which it passes is broken, and ‘the force of the impulse is spent upon the margins of the caverns or ravines the same as it would be upon the face of a cliff or scarp were it in the course of the vibra- tory movement. The points of wave-interference are the places of greatest shock and danger. 'The laws of motion are the same whether they apply to air, water, or earth-waves. The duration of an earthquake varies from a minute to many days, or even months. ‘‘In Japan, A. Dv. 745, there was a shaking which is said to have lasted sixty hours ; and, in A. D. 977, there was a series of shakings lasting three hundred days.’’ Prof. Milne further re- ports that at San Salvador, in 1879, more than six hun- dred shocks were felt within ten days; in 1850, at Hon- - duras, there were one hundred eight shocks in a week, and two hundred shocks in a single day at Lima, in 1746 ; and two hundred eighty-three shocks were felt in ten hours, at St. Thomas, in 1868. The number of shocks experienced at Charleston, August 31st of this year, is, therefore, in no way ex- 7avs 194 EARTHQUAKES. ceptional; although the extent and severity of the Charleston earthquake exceed anything heretofore ex- perienced in the United States. It affected an area of nine hundred thousand square miles. To speak of the effects of earthquakes on land and water is to recite the story of the destruction of Charles- ton, South Carolina, last August ; of Port Royal in 1692 ; the immense and frightful cleavage phenomena during the Calabrian earthquake of 1783—when the earth opened in fissures one hundred feet wide and two hun- dred feet deep ; in 1158 an earthquake felt in England caused the ‘‘drying up of the Thames so that it could be crossed on foot even at London’’; coast lines have been changed; mountains have been thrown-down; — ‘‘valleys have been filled; cities have been submerged or buried,’? and human lives have been destroyed by thousands. In 1868 when St. Thomas was shaken the sea receded ; at Lisbon it rose ina mighty wave sixty feet in height and fell with destructive force upon the city already shattered by the terrible force of the land vibrations. - When Lima was destroyed in 1724, a sea wave eighty feet in height poured over Callao. When Callao and Lima were again destroyed in 1746, the sea rose to eighty feet in height and came rushing over the towns seventeen hours after the land shocks _ had passed away. : In 1737, on the coast of Lupatka, the sea rose above its level to the immense height of two hundred ten feet. These sea waves extend their influence over vast areas. Thus the great earthquake of Lisbon sent waves across the Atlantic to our shores in nine and a half hours. The wave of 1868—destroying twenty five thousand lives on the coast of South America—extended over the entire Pacific, traveling at the average rate of five hundred eleven feet per second. 78 “WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 195 Fortunately such sea-waves are not the common at- tendants of earthquakes, for, out of fifteen thousand earthquakes observed along various coast lines, there have been but one hundred twenty-four sea-waves pro- duced thereby. Although the shock is felt so distinctly on the earth’s surface, it is the testimony of many observers that, deep underground, itis either not felt at all, or, if felt, it is generally very feeble. Such has been the evidence of those who have been in deep mines at the times when severe earthquakes have occurred. The explanation of this is thought to be either be- cause of a ‘‘smaller amplitude of motion in the solid rocks beneath the surface as compared with the extent of motion on the surface, or else the disturbance is, at a distance from its origin, practically confined to the surface.”’ The depth at which earthquakes originate varies— it is believed—from a mile and a half, as in the earth- quake of Yokohama in 1880, to fifty miles asin Owen’s valley earthquake in 1872. Mallet’s calculations, how- ever, give the limiting depth at thirty miles, but his calculations were based upon the idea, first propounded by Mitchell in 1700, that ‘‘the impulsive effect of an earthquake has an intimate relationship with the height of neighboring volcanoes, the column of lava supported on a volcanic cone being a measure of the internal press- ure tending to rupture the adjacent crust of the earth.” Prof. Milne, however, shows that this argument is subject to such qualifications, that it cannot have a gen- eral application. He says that the connection between particular earthquakes and volcanoes is not always specially apparent; and, while the column of liquid lava in the cone of a voleano may ‘‘ measure the pres- sure upon the crust of the earth in the immediate vicinity of the cone,” it may not be a correct index of the pres- 79 196 EARTHQUAKES. sure originating ina general subterranean liquid mass. Thus, for example, in the crater of Mauna Loa the lava stands ‘‘ ten thousand feet higher than in the crater of Kilauea, only twenty miles distant.” We may admit that voleanoes act as safety-valves for the pent-up telluric forces, and, by their sudden explo- sions, become true causes of certain earthquakes, with- out accepting, to its full extent, the common belief that there isa synchronism between volcanic eruptions and earthquakes. | Some of the great earthquakes of record have not only occurred at times when no volcanic phenomena have taken place, but they have occurred in places where vol- canoes did not exist, as at Calabria, Lisbon, and Charleston. On the other hand, that seismic and volcanic phenom- ena are often seen together is well established by the evidence given by Herculaneum and Pompeli. When Concepcion felt the great shock in 1835, there occurred two great submarine eruptions. When Riobamba was destroyed in 1797, Mount Pasto, one hundred twenty miles distant, suddenly ceased its activity, while volea- noes within the immediate vicinity of Riobamba were in no way affected. In 1861, a volcano at the base of which Mendoza is situated burst into eruption, when this city, with ten thousand of its people, was destroyed by an earthquake. Although many earthquakes have their origin in mid- ocean, it is, nevertheless, true, generally speaking, that they are more frequent in volcanic and mountainous re- gions, along ovean boundaries. And, while earthquakes and volcanoes may be but different effects of a common cause, the evidence at hand does not enable us to affirm that their phenomena have at all times any direct con- nection. Following Prof. Milne it may be stated that, as the re- 80 WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 197 sult of modern inquiry, earthquakes are to be attributed to many causes acting in such a complex manner that, as yet, it is impossible to determine the exact dynamic value of any one cause in their production. It seems to be well established, however, that ‘‘telluric heats, solar heat and variations in gravitating influences ”’ are primary, and often the immediate cause ; while, as de- pendent or secondary causes, we recognize ‘‘ expan- sions and contractions of the earth’s crust, variations in temperature, barometrical pressure, rain, wind, the at- tractive influences of the sun and moon in producing tides in the ocean or the earth’s crust, variations in tbe distribution of stress upon the earth’s surface caused by processes of degradation and the attractions in the posi- tion of isogeothermal surfaces.” To one accustomed to the use of microscopes or tele- scopes, it is well known, from many unpleasant ex- periences, how small a cause, comparatively speaking, is required to produce earth tremors which serious- ly interfere with the accurate use of these instruments. When reflecting a star in a tray of mercury at the Greenwich observatory, it has been found that the tread of people, from London to Greenwich park, caused earth tremors which so disturbed the surface of mercury as to render it impossible to complete the observations until these earth tremors were overcome by mechanical means. Prof. Paul, when making a survey at Washington to find a suitable site for our naval observatory, found that a passing train of cars caused earth tremors which were readily noticed at the distance of a mile; while Lieu- tenant-Colonel Palmer, when at New Zealand making observations on the transit of Venus in 1874, found the vibrations of the earth, caused by a railway four hun- dred yards distant, so disturbing that he was obliged to intrench his instruments in pits three and a half feet S81 198 EARTHQUAKES. deep in order to escape these artificial tremors, which affected the earth through a coarse, pebbly gravel to nearly this depth. The observations of M. d@ Abbadie and of George and Horace Darwin have abundantly demonstrated that natural earth vibrations are incessant and universal. It is also well known that at times there are large wave- like undulations which travel over the earth’s surface and mark their progress by the disturbance of the levels of lakes and seas. These movements or undulations are known as earth pulsations. That a body as dense as the earth and of its magni- tude should throb and pulsate as if it were a thing of life, seems hardly possible ; but, when we measure the forces which constantly operate within it, and act upon it from without, we learn that its magnitude and density are great or small only in a relative sense ; its rocks are more resisting than its water, but yet when the tidal forces of nature play upon the rocks they are twisted, contorted and broken as if they were glass toys in the hands of a giant. Barometrical pressure alone has been shown by Mr. George Darwin sufficient to depress a continent. On the assumption that the earth has a rigidity like steel a ‘*barometric rise of one inch over an area like Australia, gives a load sufficient to sink that continent two or three inches.” The tides have been shown sufficient to cause our shores to rise and fall with their ebb and flow. We feel assured, therefore, that known forces are suf- ficient to cause earth tremors and pulsations; and it seems but reasonable to ascribe to these same or kindred forces—when acting with greater intensity and power— the causes which, under favorable conditions, produce all the phenomena of earthquakes. Yet, as a matter of fact, it is found that what we may call external causes— 82 WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 199 like solar and lunar attractions and barometric fluctua- tions—are much less important agents than those which belong more directly to the structure and conforma- tion of the earth itself. We shall not, therefore, discuss the influences which may be exerted by rain, winds, and changes in atmos- pheric temperature in the causation of seismic phenom- ena, because their influence is not prepon derating. But reference will be made to some of those influences which are known to possess more direct seismic potency. Mr. Poulette Scrope ascribed most earthquakes to ‘‘the snap and jar occasioned by the sudden and violent rupture of solid rock-masses, and, perhaps, the instan- taneous injection into them of intumescent molten matter from beneath.” Mr. Mallet, however, argues that, on mechanical prin- ciples, such rock fractures “¢gould produce only very weak impulses;”’ but, nevertheless, thinks that some earthquakes ‘‘may be due to the movement and erushing of rock-masses by tangential pressures, pro- duced by secular cooling of the earth.” Whatever may be the agencies or causes which pro- duce land elevations and depressions by ,which, from undue strain or tension, cracks or faults are caused in the bed-rocks of the earth, may be regarded as seismic causes also; for faulting cannot take place without causing shocks which can be felt, and whose severity will be measured by the magnitude of the rock-fracture and dislocation. In minor earthquakes, the fractures do not extend to the surface ; and so a flexure, rather than a marked dis- placement, only may be observed. When the fracture and displacement are beneath the ocean, of course we can only feel the shock, or observe the water-wave ; but cannot discern topographical changes, except in the lifting up of islands or coast lines, or in their depression. 8s 200 EARTHQUAKES. ‘“By the earthquake of 1839 the island of Lemus was suddenly elevated eight feet.’? And, during the earth- quakes of Concepcion, in 1835, the coast was lifted sev- eral feet above the sea-level. While, by the Owen’s valley earthquake, in 1872, a fault was produced. forty miles long and from five to twenty-five feet in height. Wherever rock-fractures and displacements have taken place, there can be no doubt but they have re- sulted from the action of seismic forces. Humboldt saw in ‘‘the reaction of the fiery interior of the earth upon its rigid crust’’ a cause sufficient to explain seismic and volcanic phenomena. Some have suggested that this ‘‘reaction’’ consists in the sudden outbursts of steam beneath the earth’s crust, and its escape through cracks and fissures. Whether steam accumulates by ‘‘ separating out from the cooling interior of our globe” or resuits from the ‘“ percolation of water from the surface of the earth down to voleanic foci,’ there can be no doubt but its expansive force is capable of causing a sudden explosion, and thereby be averitable cause of seismic phenomena. Fis- sures beneath the ocean—where the most destructive earthquakes have arisen—may ‘‘ admit water to volcanic foci ;’ the intense heat to which it is submitted will, for a time, hold a portion of the water in a spheroidal state, during which time tremors may be felt, and then when, from the spheroidal state the water is converted into steam, its expansive force causes explosions which are felt as earthquakes. Again it is said that the evisceration which takes place on such an immense scale during volcanic action—when lava is ejected in such quantity that in some individual cases it has exceeded the magnitude of Mount Blane ;. or ona smaller scale by the mining excavations in our coal fields, and mineral mines, and from the outpouring of petroleum oil, and gas, whereby subterranean hollows 84 WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 201 are produced which render the earth. unstable—it is said that such evisceration causes earthquakes from the collapse of the large hollows thus produced. Observation, however, does not find the evidence which supports this theory to its full extent; and yet when we add to the evicerating agencies already men- tioned the one yet more powerful and constant in its action, viz.: chemical degradation, we are obliged to recognize an agency which may at least be sufficient to cause seismic shocks of local import. Because of the known power exerted by the attractive influence of the sun and moon in causing the tides in our oceans, some have thought that this same influence is sufficient to cause, what may be called, elastic tides in the earth’s crust, and also tides in the molten liquid within the interior of the earth, which, acting upon the earth’s crust, produces fractures and faulting with the attendant phenomena of earthquakes. Falb elaborated this idea and held that the internal fluids were drawn, by the attraction of the sun and moon, into cracks and channels which are in the crust of the earth, and are therein cooled, or exploded and by their explosion cause seismic and volcanic disturbance. The attractive force of the moon upon the water on our planet is sufficient to ‘‘lift a hemispherical shell eight thousand miles in diameter about two or three feet higher at its crown than it lifts the earth,” and, from the investigations of Lamé, Darwin and Thomson, we are asked to believe that this same force is sufficient to produce enormous elastic tides. If it be true that the interior of the earth is fluid, the elastic tides ‘‘ would be sufficient to lift the waters of the ocean up and down so that the oceanic tides would be obliterated.’? Such a condition does not exist and we are therefore interested to know—as a preliminary point in our discussion— 85 202 EARTHQUAKES. whether the interior of the earth is really fluid, viscous or solid. On this question there is a diversity of opinions. It is generally admitted that the ‘‘density of the crust beneath the mountains is less than below the plains, and still less than that below the ocean-bed,”’ and that there is an ‘‘exeess of heavy materials in the water or southern hemisphere and beneath the ocean- bed as compared with the continental masses ;”’ it is be- cause of this condition—some have said—that the vast body of water is held in the southern portion of the globe ; hence, too, it is argued the interior is composed of heavier material than the surface, and may be metallic. Pressure, however, would make the nucleus heavier even if it were composed of the same—or no heavier material than the crust—unless indeed the effect of pressure is neutralized by some other agency ; and that is the only force capable of thus acting. The structure of the earth’s crust clearly indicates that the heavier substances are towards the center, and it is likewise well established that an excess of heat exists below the surface also. The fact of internal heat, greater than the surface temperature is proved by the hot vapors, ashes, molten rocks, water and fire which are thrown out of volcanoes ; from thermal springs, and from the average rate of in- creased heat—1° Fahr., for every fifty or sixty feet descent—obtained in artificial borings, wells and mines— which, at fifty miles would give a temperature of 46009, which is greater than the fusing point of platinum. From such data geologists have urged the inference that the earth’s interior is a molten mass, whose heat is slowly escaping outward by the processes of radiation, conduction and convection. The earth therefore is constantly losing heat, and, as | sé a <<" WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 203 a cooling body, it is constantly shrinking. The surface temperature, however, remains nearly uniform—being largely regulated by the solar heat received, by the amount of heat radiated into space and by atmospheric influences,—so that the contraction of the exterior is more gradual than that of the interior portion of the globe. This process of contraction causes heat, and thus feeds the internal fires ; but as the internal portions contract more rapidly than the external portions, they shrink away from the external shell and leave hollow places, like a shell within a shell—with a hollow sphere intervening. The strength of the outer shell is not suf- ficient to withstand the gravity of its own rocks—and it breaks in here and there—with earthquake shocks—and leaves fractured and distorted rocks as evidence of its fall. Faulting thus causes earthquakes. Sucharesome of the geological data and inferences relating to our globe. In opposition to the theory of the internal fluidity of the earth, are some physical and astronomical argu- ments which have commanded much attention and gained the support of many of our ablest physicists and ceologists. Mr. Hopkins in 1839 contended against the liquidity of the earth’s interior, because, such a condition is, ac- cording to his calculations, incompatible with the plan- etary motions of precession and nutation. These move- ments cannot possibly occur as they do if the earth consists of ‘‘a central ocean of molten rock sur- rounded with a crust of twenty or thirty miles in thickness,’ His calculations required a crust not less than eight hundred or one thousand miles in thickness in order to permit of an explanation of these present motions. M. Delauney reasoned that ‘‘if the interior were a mass of sufficient viscosity,’ it might act as a solid and 87 204. EARTHQUAKES. not interfere with the phenomena of precession and nu- tation. But Sir William Thomson showed that this theory ‘‘breaks down when tested by a simple calcula- tion of the amount of tangential force required to give to any globular portion of the interior mass the precession- al and nutational motions which, with other physical astronomers, he attributes to the earth as a whole.”’ Sir William Thomson has re-examined this problem and gives as his opinion (1 quote from Geikie) that the solar semi-annual and lunar fortnightly nutations abso- lutely disprove the existence of a thin rigid shell full of liquid. A thin crust requires a rigidity which is not possessed by any known substance, and a crust less than two thousand or twenty-five hundred miles in thickness could not bear the strain of the tide-producing force of the sun and moon, and maintain the earth’s configuration. He concludes that the mass of the earth ‘is on the whole more rigid certainly than a continuous, solid globe of glass of the same diameter.” This view, which Thomson has again reviewed and modified, is strengthened by the mathematical investi- cations of Mr. George H. Darwin on the bodily tides of viscous and semi-elastic spheroids and the character of ocean tides on a yielding nucleus, whereby he shows that ‘‘no very considerable portion of the interior of the earth can even distantly approach the fluid condition.” Seeking to reconcile the geological facts ‘‘ which seem to demand the existence of a mobile mass of intensely hot matter’? beneath the earth’s surface, with the re- quirements of physics, Mr. Fisher suggested the ex- istence of a fluid or viscous material lying between the external crust—which is solid by cooling, and an in- tensely hot but solid nucleus which is rigid by pressure. What the entire truth is concerning these very im- portant questions, is a problem for future solution ; ss WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 205 nevertheless, it seems to me that geology has furnished abundant evidence, in the fissures and faults of the surface rocks, to justify an inference as to the nature and origin of the mighty blow which sends an impulse over a continent, and makes the earth tremble as though it were a reed shaken by a2 storm. In an interesting discussion which followed this ad- dress Prof. W. B. Dwight reviewed the many and various phenomena which must all be explained by any ade- quate theory of the origin and nature of earthquake motion. He gave reasons for believing that though many of the less important local earthquakes are doubt- less due to volcanic action, the chief cause of important and extended earthquakes is a displacement of the Strata by fracture due to contraction of the crust of the earth. As a condition to such contraction from cooling, there may be a plastic zone of molten rock at some dis- tance below the earth’s surface. Sir William Thomson has withdrawn some of the extreme conclusions which he had arrived at in opposing the theory of the possi- bility of a molton zone; and the arguments based on mathematical calculations which he still uses against this theory are regarded by many eminent geologists as having a fatal weakness because they are based on con- ditions supposed to exist beneath the earth’s crust, but yet entirely unknown. The presence of a molten zone can neither be proved nor disproved until these condi- tions are better Known. It is certain, however, that Sir William Thomson’s conclusion as to the rigidity of the earth’s crust is not in accordance with the facts ; for the fact is that folding, fracture, displacement, and yielding in all directions aré ubiquitous and constant phenomena in the history of the rocks. - The theory that earthquakes are due mainly to dis- placement resulting from contraction due to cooling is, so 906 WAPPINGER LIMESTONES AND ASSOCIATE STRATA. however, equally tenable on the supposition of a solid globe. Unequal contraction of such a globe cannot fail to produce displacement and fracture. DECEMBER 15, 1886.—FIFTIETH REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M. D., chairman, presiding. The following paper was read : PRIMORDIAL ROCKS OF THE WAPPINGER VALLEY LIME- STONES AND ASSOCIATE STRATA. BY PROF. WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. In a paper read before the Section last spring (see page 130 of this vol.), a description was given of Pots- dam strata discovered early in 1885 on the farm of Mr. A. K. Smiley near the driving-park. The lack, at that time, of sufficiently extended paleon- tological evidence, left it very uncertain what propor- tion of the width of the western of the three parallel limestone belts might be primordial, and what portion might be occupied with the higher limestone strata of the vicinity. The only evidence on this point was the presence of a narrow strip of fossiliferous Trenton along the extreme eastern margin, at R. J. Kimlin’s farm. As the result of continued field-work, it is now in my power to present very material and important additions to our knowledge of the primordial rocks in Dutchess county. I may describe first the points of information gained with reference to the above mentioned western belt lying south of the driving park. A ledge of Potsdam, con- taining a few specimens of Lingulepis pinniformis, has been found on R. J. Kimlin’s farm. It is a few rods east of the road, and a little north of his barn. It is thus near the eastern margin of the belt, and only a 90 | WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. 207 little west of the line of the Trenton ledge previously found on Kimlin’s farm. The lithological character of the strata would indicate that much of the rock in this neighborhood is of the Potsdam horizon, though it is difficult to find in it fossils of any kind. A subsequent discovery made on April 28th, corroborates the evidence of the facts on Kimlin’s farm, while it is far more inter- esting and instructive. The Spackenkill creek road leaves the south road (on Albany post road,) at school house No. 2, and leads easterly; it therefore crosses this limestone belt. Ata point in this road a little less than a mile from the school house, a road crosses into it from the Varick farm-house. At the junction of these roads, and extending some distance along the Varick road, isa low ledge of dark, compact limestone, lying mostly beneath the surface of the ground, which has proved to be rich in Potsdam fossils. The best locality for these was about a hundred feet from the Spacken- kill road, and almost in the middle of the Varick road. By making an excavation here, under permission of the roadmaster, I obtained quite a considerable supply of slabs and smaller specimens, in which glabellas and free cheeks of trilobites, in an excellent state of preserva- tion, and other fossils, were crowded together. Lingu- lepis pinniformis, and the allied species found on the Smiley farm, are quite frequent here. The trilobites are all of two species not yet identified among the trilobites of the last-mentioned locality. These are respectively, Ptychoparia saratogensis, Walcott, and Ptychoparia calcifera, Walcott; previously discovered by Mr. C. D. Walcott in the Potsdam strata of Saratoga county ; they were described by him (under the names Bathy- urus armatus, and Conocephalites calcifera), in the Thirty-Second Annual Report of the New York State Museum of Natural History, but he has not yet pub: lished any figures of them. They may be readily dis- o1 208 WAPPINGER LIMESTONES AND ASSOCIATE STRATA. tinguished from each other by the fact that P. Sarato- gensis has a glabella generally smaller than that of the other trilobite and with nearly parallel sides, a very narrow and simply convex front margin, very small eye-lobes, and no occipital spine; while the P. Calci- Sera has a glabella more conical in form, broadening posteriorly, a very broad front margin with a doubly- curved surface, very large and furrowed eye-lobes, and an occipital spine. It is instructive to note that this locality of Poughkeepsie Potsdam, and probably the Smiley strata also, are thus correlated with the Potsdam of Saratoga county. In my former paper, the Potsdam was identified as continuous along the western margin of this limestone belt to the Hudson River. The new localities above de- scribed lie along a line which runs close to the eastern border of the belt. This suggests the poSsibility that the main ‘width of the limestone here, of over a mile, may consist of folds of Potsdam strata. The litho- logical features are more in favor of this theory than against it. These Potsdam strata, along their eastern edge, appear, at one point at least, to be faulted against Trenton strata, ¢.e., on Kimlin’s farm. The locality on the summit of the most eastern of these three limestone belts, south of the MacPherson (formerly Boardman) place, mentioned in my former paper as probably Potsdam, is such, without much doubt. Here also these primordial rocks are in close juxtaposition with highly fossiliferous Trenton strata, which lie immediately to the east, indicating a probable strike-fault. Another very interesting locality of fossiliferous Pots- dam has been developed some distance further to the northward. It is in the main belt of the Wappinger limestones, almost midway between Pleasant Valley and Salt Point. The branch road passing towards the 92 WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. 209 Wappinger creek, from the main valley road, near schoolhouse No. 12, a few rods southeast of the latter building, makes a sharp turn to che north as it crosses the summit of the limestone ridge, here quite low. Ex- actly at this turn, both in the road itself and in the fields of Mr. Paul Flagler’s farm, on either side, the rock, consisting of calcareous shales, passing into com- pact arenaceous limestone, yields excellent Potsdam fossils. So far as examined, these consist of Lingu- lepis pinniformis, and an undescribed brachiopod. No trilobites have as yet been found here. These primordial strata evidently continue for over half a mile to the northward, exposed in ledges along the higher parts of the ridge. They are then mostly con- cealed under drift, but they reappear in a narrow layer of shales, yielding Lingulepis pinniformis, lying at the eastern base of the bold precipice of Trenton and Calciferous (7) limestones at the southern end of Wal- lace’s quarry. These potsdam layers are two or three rods west of the farmhouse occupied by Mr. Tabor at the point where the road suddenly turns east to cross the Wappinger creek. This fact adds a complication to the already difficult problem of the stratigraphy in the neighborhood of this most interesting quarry. It is now my impression that there is a considerable breadth of outcrop of primordial strata between Salt Point and Pleasant Valley ; at the same time it must be noted that there is abundant evidence by fossils of the presence of a considerable ampunt also of the higher limestones of this vicinity. It remains now to note the discovery of primordial strata of yet lower horizon than the Potsdam. During the last week of October, and the first week of Novem- ber, 1886, Mr. Charles D. Walcott, of the United States geological survey, and the writer, made several joint trips of observation to various points of interest in the 938 210 WAPPINGER LIMESTONES AND ASSOCIATE STRATA. complicated stratigraphy of the western portion of Dutchess county. Wespent the first and second days of October in a visit tou Stissing mountain. Our chief object was to find paleontological evidence of the strati- graphical horizon of the quartzyte which immediately overlies the Archeean gneiss of the mountain. This quartzyte has been assigned to Potsdam by Prof. Mather (in the N. Y. state survey), Dana, and others, but on purely stratigraphical grounds, since fossils have never before been found init. In June of 1884, Mr. 8. W. Ford and the writer visited the locality between two trains. In the limited time at our disposal, we did scarcely more than to make ourselves somewhat ac- quainted with the topography and the more accessible points of observation. The only quartzose rocks which we examined, were those of a solid, very white, compact quartzyte forming conspicuous ledges on the lower slopes of the mountain at the south end, which is the only part which we visited. On the occasion of the visit made by Mr. Walcott and myself, we examined much more carefully the same part of the mountain. Leaving the Stissing railway station, which is situated on shales of the Hudson river group, we followed the road running up the valley along the eastern flank of Mt. Stissing; the shales soon gave place to acompact bluish limestone, which in turn was fol- lowed by ared shale of lively color. Taking the first farm-road which, leading west, passed over the southern end of the mountain, we crossed another belt of lime- stone, which, at a point a little further up the main val- ley road, has been quarried and burnt for lime. After ascending some distance, we passed from the limestone to the quartzose strata which are in turn followed, on further ascent, by the underlying gneiss which forms the mass of the ridge. The compact, white quartzyte in the bold terminal 94 WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. Plat ledges, as before, proved unfossiliferous; but as we struck away from the farm-road into the woods to the north, Mr. Walcott soon found loose fragments of less compact, ferruginious, decomposing, quartzose rock, completely filled with organic remains ; among these could be detected glabellasandspines of Olenellus, with a species of brachiopod, and other fossils. In a few minutes we succeeded in finding this fossiliferous rock in place, showing, in great abundance, its fossils which had mostly been injured by the oxidation of iron, Mr. Walcott soon returned to the ledges of the limestone which immediately overlies the quartzyte, where it was exposed in the farm-road, and by discovering there opercula of Hyolithellus micans, thus proved that it belongs to the same horizon as the quartzose strata. These fossils were also found in the little limestone quarry above mentioned. Thus the question of the geological age of the quartzyte of Stissing mountain, as also that at the base of Fishkill mountain, (which we visited together immediately after leaving Stissing,) after years of uncertain speculation, has been solved ; and its solution covers also the kKnowl- edge of the age of the immediately overlying limestone. The credit of these discoveries belongs chiefly to Mr. Walcott, whose long and intimate acquaintance with the pre-Potsdam strata, was of great service in the search. The fossils discovered have been identified by Mr. Walcott, so far as the present imperfect specimens will permit, as follows: From the quartzyte:—Olenellus asaphoides, or Thomsoni ; probably the former; glabellas and cheek spines ; brachiopods, probably Zvriplesia, and Oboled/a, Species not determined. From the limestone immedi- ately overlying the quartzyte:—Hyolithellus micans ; opercula very well defined, rather abundant. Odolella, Sp. 4 95 912 WAPPINGER LIMESTONES AND ASSOCIATE STRATA. These strata dip away at a very low angle (from 6° to 10°) from the axis of the mountain ; but the dip of the adjoining strata increases rapidly with the distance from the mountain, until it reaches the usual angle of the Wappinger valley strata, that is, from 30° to 45°; with the increasing dip, it also acquires the predomi- nant northeast and northwest strike. The Olenellus quartzyte has an estimated thickness of about one hundred sixty feet, and the associated Olen- ellus limestone, one of about seventy-five feet. About sixty feet of red shale overlie the Olenellus limestone, and over the shale there are about three hundred feet of limestone, which, in turn, is surround- ed by the prevalent Hudson river shales of the valley. We found no fossils in red shale, nor in the higher limestones. In the absence of paleontological evidence, the more evident stratigraphy of Fishkill mountain establishes the presumption that the red shales, belong to the Hudson river group, and the upper limestone to a post-Potsdam age. We examined the strata to the distance of alam two miles from the south end of Mt. Stissing, in a south- westerly direction. We found them much faulted, so that the Olenellus quartzyte is brought again to the surface. It was evident that nothing short of a pro- tracted and very careful examination would suffice to | develop the true stratigraphic relations of that district. The succession of the strata in the eastern part of Dutchess county, and doubtless of the entire county, is probably completely revealed by the acquisition of these facts concerning Stissing mountain. It is as follows, -beginning with the lowest strata : 1. The Archean gneiss of Stissing and Fishkill mountains, and of other elevations. 2. The Olenellus group, (Georgia group of Vermont, ) 96 WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. Ome of quartzose and limestone rocks at the base of the above named mountains. 3. The Potsdam, (or upper Cambrian, ) well exposed at Salt Point, and a little southeast of Poughkeepsie. 4. The Rochdale group, (Calciferous?) This group, with its unique set of numerous fossils, yet only very partially described, is the one which in previous papers Thave called the Calciferous, because I considered it manifestly most closely related to what has been gener- ally covered by that title. It is evident, however, that the proper limits of both of the terms, Calciferous and Chazy, (and of course that entirely vague expression ‘*Quebec group’’) are undergoing severe review in the light of recent developments. and that many fossils heretofore assigned to one, may be ultimately found to belong to the other. Ihave decided, therefore, to desig- nate these strata provisionally by the name of the lo- cality where their fauna are most richly represented. It must not, however, be inferred that the strata so des- ignated are the only ones found at Rochdale, for at least the Trenton, and the Hudson river groups are also well represented there. The rocks of the ‘*‘ Rochdale” group are apparently found everywhere in this limestone belt. 5. The Trenton limestone, found quite fossiliferous at Wallace’s quarry, Salt Point, at Pleasant Valley, Rochdale and at Newburgh, and generally in the Wap- pinger limestone. 6. The Utica slate may be present in the county, though the fossils found along the banks of the Hudson river, and assigned to this group are thought by some experienced paleontologists to belong quite probably to the Hudson river group, on the ground of having been actually found in several places mingled with organic remains characteristic of the latter horizon. 7. The Hudson river shales prevalent in every part of Dutchess county. 97 214 THE USE OF IODINE IN BLOWPIPING. This comprehensive view of the stratigraphy of this” county, shows it to be manifestly a continuation of the strata of the Taconic and the adjoining series lying to the northward in New York and Vermont, and in the western portion of Massachusetts. Taking these most recent paleontological develop- ments with the facts of very much folding and faulting of the strata, it is also evident that the complexity of the local stratigraphy is very great. No stratigraphic chart of Dutchess county will be of much value which is not founded on field-work conducted with laborious detail. JANUARY 12, 1887—FIFTY-FIRST REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., chairman, presiding ; forty members and guests present. LeRoy C. Cooley, Ph.D., gave an interesting address entitled: ‘‘From Coal Tar to the Alizarine Dyes,” in which he illustrated the progress made by chemistry in the analysis and synthesis of organic compounds. No manuscript of this address has been prepared for publication. Mr. James Winne was elected an active member. FEBRUARY 9, 1887—FIFTY-SECOND REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., chairman, presiding. The following paper was read: ON THE USE OF IODINE IN BLOWPIPING. BY MR. CHARLES L. BRISTOL. In.1866 Bunsen studied iodine films and their appli- cation to blowpiping and he is the first to define the re- sults thus obtained. His method was to support the sample to be tested on asbestos threads and hold it in the upper oxidizing flame of the burner that bears his name. The volatilized oxides were condensed on the surface of °8 CHARLES L. BRISTOL. 215 a porcelain dish (half-filled with water) held over the flame and this oxide film was then changed to an iodide film by exposure to hydriodicacid. In practice this was accomplished by setting the dish in the mouth of a salt- mouth bottle containing hydriodic acid and phosphorus acid obtained from the gradual deliquescence of phos- phoric triiodide. Another method was to volatilize iodine held on asbestos threads and condense it on the film. The film becomes an iodide film in both cases. Bunsen prepared a table differentiating these films, but as the results are very similar to those described later, I omit them. The next step was taken by Von Kobell, who pub- lished the use of potassium iodide as a means of dis- tinguishing bismuth from lead, in 1871. He mixed the powdered sample with an equal bulk of a mixture of potassium iodide one part, powdered sulphur five parts and treated the mixture ona long coal with a moder- ate reducing flame. If the sample is lead, a rather volatile coat of yellow iodide of lead is formed at quite a distance from the assay. In samples containing little lead, the yellow coating may be masked by the white coat of potassium iodide, and if mercury, arsenic or antimony be present, they may either yield similar coats or may completely mask it. Bismuth under this treat- ment yields a beautiful red coat of bismuth iodide, at a great distance from the sample ;—/f the test is properly made, says Cornwall. This may be masked ; either ap- pearing similar to lead or covered by lead itself. To in- crease the delicacy of the test, especially in the presence of much lead, proceed as follows: The assay is heated over an alcohol flame in an open tube about 100 ™™ long by 80 ™™ in diameter with somewhat more than its bulk of a mixture of potassium iodide one part, sulphur five parts. If bismuth be present, its sublimate will appear asadull brick red band or irregular streak about 8 ™™ 99 216 THE USE OF IODINE IN BLOWPIPING. above the copious plumbic iodide. This is a test re- quiring much skill and good judgment. These are the only tests employing iodine in blow- piping that I can find published prior to 1883, and I want to call your attention to two salient features in them. Bunsen’s films demanded a white surface rapidly chilled. Von Kobell’s films demanded a support that should withstand the heat of the blowpipe flame. The next step was published in 1883 by Dr. E. Haanel, Professor of chemistry in Victoria college, Coburg, Province of Ontario, in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Canada. Hewas led, he says in his paper, to remove the difficulty experienced by students in dis- _tinguishing the oxide coatings of bismuth on charcoal from the similar one of lead by converting both these coatings intoiodides. The method was to drop hydriodic acid on the coating in question and then direct the flame upon the charcoal just in front of the moistened spot. The heat of the flame volatilized the respective iodides. which were again deposited on the charcoal at a greater distance, and assumed. characteristic colors: bismuth, brown ; lead, canary yellow. This was an improvement on Von Kobell’s method since a suspected film could readily be differentiated. The drawback was the use of the unstable hydriodic acid. In extending his observations, he soon came to find that charcoal was not a satisfactory support on which to utilize to the fullest extent the peculiar reactions of hydriodic acid, so he set out to find a substitute. It must be cheap and readily made. Its surface must be smooth and white, uninfluenced by the flame and readily chilled. The first two are Bunsen’s conditions ; the last two are Von Kobell’s. Dr. Haanel’s additional requirement was that it should absorb hydriodic acid. After much ex- perimentation he produced tablets made of plaster of 100 CHARLES L. BRISTOL. D117 Paris that combine all these conditions in an eminent degree. They are readily made by spreading a thickish paste of plaster over an oiled glass surface about one- eighth of an inch thick. While yet moist and before the plaster has fully set, the surface is cut with a knife guided by a ruler, so as to mark off tablets about four by one and three-quarters inches, though slightly smaller tablets may be used with as good results. When dry they easily separate and yield a glossy, white sur- face. The hydriodic acid is prepared by passing sulphuret- ted hydrogen through water containing finely divided iodine in suspension. The resulting clear liquid is the resulting acid dissolved in water containing more or less hydrogen sulphide. This latter, however, is no hindrance; in fact it is an advantage, since it retards the decomposition of the unstable acid and in no way interferes with the reaction. The instability of the acid is practically of little importance, says Haanel, because free iodine is readily reconverted by passing hydrogen sulphide into the solution. In manipulation, the assay is placed near one end of the tablet in a slight cavity, if necessary, and moist- ened with one or two drops of hydriodic acid, which is at once absorbed by the surrounding plaster. The assay is now gently treated with the oxidizing flame, and cer- tain oxides, chlorides, bromides and sulphides are thus decomposed by the hot vapor of the acid rising from the tablet around the assay; and any volatile iodides are deposited upon the tablet at greater or less distance, according to the degree of volatility. These coatings are in some cases very striking and characteristic, not to say beautiful.’ At this point I must introduce another important improvement in the use of iodine, made by Messrs. 1 See Trans. Royal Soc. of Canada. 1883. LOH 218 THE USE OF IODINE IN BLOWPIPING. Wheeler and Luedeking, of Washington university, St. Louis, Mo., and published in the Zransactions of the Academy of Science, of that city (Vol. IV, No. 4). While working on Dr. Haanel’s method they found that the alcoholic tincture of iodine served as well in the case of all sulphides as hydriodic acid, and that the dry scales of iodine worked equally well with the sulphides. The next step was easy and natural, perhaps suggested by Von Kobell’s experiment with potassium iodide and sulphur. It was to mix iodine and sulphur so as to con- vert all compounds to sulphides. This they accom- plished by adding iodine to melted sulphur and pouring the liquid mass on cool glass. The resulting mass is © dark iron gray with a tinge of brown, and consists of sulphur iodide, S, I,, in an excess of sulphur. The pro- portions recommended by them are forty parts of iodine to sixty of sulphur. The cooled mass is broken up, powdered and kept in a stoppered bottle; when used it is mixed, slightly in excess, with the powdered sample and the mass is treated with the oxidizing flame. The superiority of the solid reagent offered by Messrs. Wheeler and Luedeking over the unstable hydriodic acid of Haanel must beat once apparent. It is more portable and is always ready for immediate use—a feature of no slight advantage in general practice. It is impossible to give any adequate description of the results without the samples, though Haanel’s paper as well as Wheeler and Luedeking’s are beautifully illustrated in chromo lithography. The adjectives used in the description of the films, taken from Haanel, are determined from the spectrum of the film in question. This can readily be done as follows: Support a small piece from the end of a plas- ter tablef in plane with a clean piece of glass, scrap- ing the plaster down to thesame thickness as the glass. Place the assay on the plaster and gently direct the 102 CHARLES L. BRISTOL. 219 flame so as to cover theglass. Aftera few trials suc- cess will be easy, save in the cases of some of the more infusible substances. These films may then be used in the spectroscope or for projection. A com- parison of Table No. 1 with Table No. 2 will indicate the prominent differences, and show the analogy between the iodides formed by the wet method and those by the dry. Table No. 8 shows the differentiation of the coatings by the use of ammonium hydrate and ammonium sul- phide. In differentiating similar coatings, ammonium hydrate and ammonium sulphide are used. They are most conveniently applied from a small wash-bottle containing the reagent, and having the mouth tube dip- ping under the liquid and the exit tube cut off close be- low the cork. Their action may be somewhat hastened by breathing. lodine itself gives a fugitive brown coat- ing that disappears rapidly, and must not be mistaken for a metallic coating. White coatings are rendered visible on the plaster of Paris tablet by coating it with lampblack. This furnishes a surface superior to char- coal and extends the value of the plaster tablet. Table No. 4 shows an interesting and suggestive fea- ture of these coatings and one worthy of thought. It is the relation of color to the atomic weight of the sub- stances when they are arranged according to Mendele- jeff s system. TABLE NO: 1. COLOR OF IODIDES FORMED IN THE WET METHOD. (Roscoe and Schorlemmer. ) Pb L— When a solution of a lead salt is mixed with a soluble iodide, a yellow precipitate is formed of Pb I,, which separates into yellow laminz. ‘On heating, this becomes reddish yellow, then light red, and lastly brownish black. 108 220 THE USE OF IODINE IN BLOWPIPING. Tl I—Similar to Pb. Cu, I,—White crystalline powder: melts at red heat, so- lidifying to a brownish-white mass which yields a green powder. Ag I—Light yellowish powder. Hg, I,—Greenish powders or yellowish crystals which, on heating, become red, then darker red. Hg L—Scarlet crystalline powder, yellow on heating. Hg I,—(Mercury periodide) brown crystalline powder. Sn I,— Yellowish red. Sb I—Brownish red. Bi I,—Greyish black. Bi OI—Copper red crystalline mass. TABLE NO. 2. COLOR OF IODIDE COATS. (Haanel.) ARSENIO—A reddish orange. Lrap—A chrome yellow. Tin—A brownish yellow. SILVER—A bright yellow while hot, faint grayish yel- low when cold ; is close to the assay. ANTIMONY—An orange red. MeERcuRY— Scarlet and yellow, the yellow changing completely to scarlet on standing. SELENIUM—A reddish brown. TELLURIUM—A purplish brown. BismutH—A chocolate brown, fringed with red near the assay. CospaLtT—A_ greenish brown edged with green; the brown color is evanescent, changing into faint green, especially when breathed upon. MoLyBpENUM—A deep ultramarine; is close to the assay and is the permanent oxide, Mo, O;. iy sO = CHARLES L. BRISTOL. 221 Wotrram—A faint greenish blue; is a permanent oxide, Wo, O;. ‘CoppER— W hite. Capmium— White. Zinc—W hite ; is very volatile. TABLE NO. 3. DIFFERENTIATION OF IODIDE COATS. Substance. Am HO. Am: 58. Disappears slowly Pb ae ay to black. Sn Disappears at once| whitish yellow. Film heated before flame, but not A touched, changes g to bright yellow. When touched changes to grey. As Disappears. to lemon yellow. Sb — to orange. H to greenish black : g excess to black, Te Disappears. To cherry red—ex- Bi cess gives tran- to black. sient yellow. Disappears. Only Zn white coat that does. ee | | Cd to orange. 105 222 BACTERIA. TABLE NO, 4. Showing the Relation of Film Colors to Atomic Weights according to Mendelejeff’s Periodic Law. 4th Period. 6th Period. 9th Period. Cu [63 White. Ag|108| Bright yellow. |Au|199) =§ ———— Zn |65 White. Cd |112! White. Hg 200|Scarlet & yellow. Gaj6s) = —— [In ]113) —-— (T1204; 9 ———_ el ee ———_ Sn |118|Brownish yellow|Pb 207/Chrome yellow. As /|75|)Reddish orange.|Sb 129, Orange red. |Bi |210|Chocolate brown Se |78/Reddish brown. |Te |125 Purplish Brown... aE 53 ——_—— Br |80 we T (127) Brown. i evel ister —_— FEBRUARY 23, 1887—FIFTY-THIRD REGULAR MEETING. William G. Stevenson, M.D., chairman, presiding ; forty-five members and guests present. The following paper was read : BACTERIA. BY MISS ISABEL MULFORD. Judging from the literature which has lately arisen upon this subject, one readily infers that it is one of great and increasing interest, not only to those who are practically engaged in microscopical research, but to those who are interested in the great problems of life and its environment,—to those who are striving to learn more of the wonderful phenomena attending life, and death, and decay. A few forms of bacteria were observed a long time ago. Leeuwenhoek in 1675, O. F. Miller in 1773, and Khrenberg in 1838, described several forms, and made some attempt at classification, but until quite recently the notions concerning these lowly organisms were ex- ceedingly vague and crude, and no attempt was made to control their action. ; Though the study of bacteria presupposes micro- scopical work, since the largest cells cannot be seen ex- cept by the aid of a good microscope, many forms are 106 ISABEL MULFORD. 223 distinctly visible in the mass. Their chemical and physiological effects, too, are very apparent and were made use of in practical life long before the bacteria themselves had ever been thought of. Wine and vine- gar, and beer and bread were made, and the risks at- tending their manufacture were known, but until the time of Pasteur, no one dreamed of bringing in the microscope as an accessory. He taught his country- men to know with certainty when the ferments used were pure, and when they were invaded by diseased or- ganisms. Bacteria are developed in connection with organic mat- ter whose vital energy is weakened orimpaired. When exposed to the atmosphere the juice of fruits ferments. The clear liquid becomes cloudy or turbid, and deposits asediment. Bright spots of color appear upon solids. A minute quantity of these substances placed under the microscope reveals myriads of minute organisms, the active agents in these changes. When these and other fungous growths were seen de- veloping in lifeless matter without any apparent cause, the theory of spontaneous generation arose. Under certain favoring conditions, imperfectly understood, life was supposed to assert itself and arise, like Phenix, from the ashes. Many eminent scientists, from the time of Aristotle down, believed that the lowlier forms of life were able to spring spontaneously into existence. A few dared to dispute the theory, and some interesting -discoveries took place, but its complete refutation was reserved to men of our day. Germs of these organisms were shown to exist in the air. the earth, the water. Some of the most interesting experiments known to science, were made by Pasteur, Tyndall and others, all serving to show that organic matter, free from these germs and cut off from contact with air, will resist decay for an indefinite period, and, even after the lapse 107 224 BACTERIA. of years, will be found entirely free from microscopic life. We have not the slightest ground for believing that any form of life exists which has not had its origin in some pre-existing organism of like nature. These minute organisms lie on the border-land between the animal and vegetable kingdoms, but the great weight of authority now classes them with plant life, because their cells are coated with a membrane of cellulose and because they are able to assimilate nitrogen from. in- organic compounds. There is still great diversity of opinion as to whether they belong to the alge or to the fungi. They are doubtless allied to the Oscillatoria,. among the alge, but as they do not develop chlorophyl, the tendency is to class them with the fungi. With reference to their physiological effects, the bac- teria are divided into three groups. 1. Chromogenes, producing pigments. 2. Zymogenes, producing fermentations and putrefac- tions. 3. Pathogenes, those forms observed in connection with disease. The generic distinctions are based chiefly upon the form of the cells, which may be spherical, -oblong, cyl- indrical, spiral, etc. Those bacteria whose cells are spherical or nearly so, belong to the genus Micro- coccus, those whose cells are short, cylindrical rods, be- long to the’ genus Bacterium, and those whose rods are united in long filaments producing endogenous spoies, belong to the genus Bacillus. Bacteria are the smallest living organisms of which we have any knowledge. Many are with difficulty detected even with our highest magnifying powers. A single cell constitutes an individual. Some forms occur singly, some are slightly united in chains or filaments, some 108 : ISABEL MULFORD. . 995 forms swarm in liquids, some develop a film or mycoder- ma, such as the ‘‘mother”’ of vinegar, and some de- velop a gelatinous mass or zoogloea, in which the sepa- rate cells are imbedded. The movements of bacteria are thus described by M. Cohn : ‘‘In certain conditions, they are excessively mobile ; and when they swarm ina drop of water, they present an attractive spectacle, similar to that of a swarm of enats, oran ant-hill. The bacteria advance, swimming, then retreat without turning about, or even describe cir- cular lines. At onetime they advance with the rapidity of an arrow, at another, they turn upon themselves like a top; sometimes they remain motionless for a long time, and then dart off like a flash. The long rod-bac- teria twist their bodies in swimming, sometimes slowly, sometimes with address and agility, as if they tried to force for themselves a passage through obstacles. Itis thus that a fish seeks its way through aquatic plants. They remain sometimes quiet, as if to repose an instant ; suddenly the little rod commences to oscillate and then to swim briskly backwards to again throw itself forward some instants after. All of these movements are ac- companied by a second movement analogous to that of a screw which moves in a nut. When the Vibr7os in the shape of a gimlet turn rapidly round their axis, they produce a singular illusion; one would believe that they twisted like an eel, although they are ex- tremely rigid.”’ The bacteria are multiplied by fission. of a second change in the Pole during half a century, the presumption would seem to be against such a fixity. The question appears to be still an open one. Till it is settled that the latitude is changing, it would seem premature to speculate upon the cause of the movement, yet it may not be out of place to inquire what force exists that could produce such an effect. Mr. Petrie, as quoted above, speaks of the influence of ocean currents, or, as he styles it, the great oceanic circu- ‘lation. It is difficult to see how that could affect the latitude. Since every current has its opposite current, the eastward effect would be neutralized by the westward and the tendency to increase the latitude—if it exists— meets its counterpart in a tendency to diminish it. It is well known that there are now and have always been movements in the earth’s crust, caused by its cool- ing and contracting. The most evident effect of these now are the elevations and depressions going on at the present time in various parts of the world, as in Norway, Italy, the eastern coast of the United States, and else- where. There were horizontal movements in the past, shown by the folding of the strata, and by the sliding of the strata one over the other: The very uprisings are in general, due to lateral pressure and consequent move- ment. It is quite certain that from this cause every part of the earth’s crust has at some time changed either its latitude, or longitude, and probably both. This cause is still active, hence it is more than probable that many places on the earth are slowly carried either towards or from the equator. If Pulkowa happens to be on a part of the earth’s crust that is being pushed southward, say a foot in a year, then its change of latitude is easily ac- counted for. If Greenwich happens to be on a part of the crust where these forces are at present inactive, then 3g 90 THE GRAND CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE. the almost absolute identity of the latitudes observed for the past 47 years, is also accounted for. It is no new idea that the land surface of the globe is more unstable than that of the sea, but no one seems to have noticed that this fact had any bearing on those two important astronomical elements—the latitude and longitude. If such local movementsin latitude are really taking place, it will be comparatively easy to detect them since the latitude at any particular moment can be determined by observation to a very high degree of accuracy. With movements east or west, the problem is more difficult, but not impossible of solution, by the aid of the electric wires. With their assistance, it may hereafter be possible to determine the longitude, and hence the dis- tance between places, with as much exactness as the latitude. Such movements of the crust may explain discrepan- cies between longitudes of the same places at different. epochs. In short, the movements of the crust, introduces a new problem for the consideration of astronomers which in this time of delicate and refined methods, cannot safely be neglected. THE GRAND CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE. Since gravitation is an all-pervading force, every atom tending to pull towards it every other atom, it would seem that the final result must be the destruction of all, the sun and its planets, the stars and their systems at last heaped together in one huge lifeless mass, the only vestige of the former arrangement being an eternal ro- tation on its own axis. Science knows nothing to prevent such a catastrophe, except that force which now keeps the planets from fall- . 40 on ye ne a i ind Ps CHARLES B. WARRING. 91 ing into the sun, which, reaching down to the least, causes the water to stay in the pail which the school boy whirls around his head, and often spreads destruction by the bursting of a too rapidly revolving wheel. This is the so-called ‘‘ centrifugal force.”’ Its philos- “ophy Ineed not explain. It is sufficient for my pur- pose that all recognize it. As all know, if the boy ceases to revolve the pail, its contents fall. Ifthe wheel is at rest, the centrifugal force no longer acts. It is the result of motion around a centre, always coming with such movement. Hence if our solar system and all its fellow systems are revolving around some grand center, the danger of all tumbling together like an ill-constructed arch is re- moved, and from unceasing movement comes stability. The mind so revolts from any scheme in nature that seems to bear marks of imperfection that for this reason alone we would infer the reality of such a revolution. There is, however, very satisfactory evidence that our own system is in rapid motion, and if ours, then others. It has long been known as the result of careful meas- urements that the stars in the northern hemisphere are apparently separating while those in the southern seem to be drawing closer together. This cannot be due to a real movement for it is impossible to conceive of them as all moving at once, those in the north from a certain point,and thosein the south towardsa northern point 180° away, keeping, as it were, all in step like soldiers to music. If real, the movement would lack the uniformity it now exhibits. The only explanation conceivable is that the two effects are optical illusions, the same in principle as when one stands on a train of cars in motion. If he is on the rear platform, the tracks, fences, trees and, in short every- thing that he passes, appear to approach each other. The track grows narrower, the fences move towards the 41 92 THE GRAND CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE. track, and the trees get closer together. All this is re- versed to one on the engine. The track widens, the fences separate, the trees get wider apart as the train comes nearer to them. In neither case does he need to be told that nothing before, or behind the train is in mo- tion, for he knows that the appearances are due to his own change of position. Reasoning identical in char- acter, leads to the conclusion that the similar, apparent motions of the stars are due to a like cause, the rush through space of the sun with its train of planets. For these reasons astronomers, long ago, came. to. the conclusion that the solar system is really moving, but positive proof was lacking. This has been supplied by the spectroscope. Aided by this instrument, in some respects the greatest of all the marvels of science, the astronomer can tell whether a luminous body is ap- proaching the earth, or receding from it. It is even possible to say what the rate of approachis. Now when the spectroscope is turned to the heavens, it is found, in general, that thestars in the neighborhood of Hercules are approaching the earth, while those in the opposite part of the heavens are receding from it, exactly the effect which would result from solar motion.* It would be too absurd to suppose that all the northern stars are moving by one system as a river flows by a rock. It-may therefore be admitted as beyond all reasonable question, that our system isin rapid motion, for it must be rapid motion :to.be detected by the spectroscope. Astronomers tell us that its rate is probably four miles a second. Granted, then, that our system is in motion, the next and apparently necessary conclusion is that, somewhere in space, is.a vast body, around which our system, prob- ably in company with many others, revolves ; and then, that this: body, with all its vast retinue of suns and * See Newcomb’s Astronomy. 42 CHARLES B. WARRING. 93 planets, and in company with myriads of other systems, revolves around a yet greater body, until at last all find a controlling centre in the throne of God. To discover, from so complicated orbits, the position of the last grand centre is impossible, but to find the special centre around who our sun revolves, is not impossible. Given a few accurate observations taken at intervals of sufficient time, and astronomers could point to the exact spot, with greater accuracy than Leverrier pointed to the new planet. But unfortunately sufficient time means thou- sands of years. At present all that can be said with certainty is that the centre around which the sun revolves must by the laws of mechanics be ninety degrees from the point towards which it is moving. This would place the central body in the direction of the Pleiades. And from this many have concluded that in that constellation is the central body whose at- traction compels our sun with its planets to move around it. There is something fascinating in the thought of sys- tem abovesystem—central bodies dominating other central bodies of minor universes, and so rising step by step to the infinite central Power that called all into exis- tence, and then ever after has held the central throne. This, however, is poetry, not fact. The Power is central, only as infinite space has its centre everywhere. To Him no spot is more central than another. In astronomy we must deal with facts, and relegate all else, however beautiful to the realm of fancy. There is no such great central body, for it would need to be millions of times larger than the sun, and many thousand times larger than all the systems controlled by it. A body so large, if heated like our sun, would appear even at that dis- tance, immeasurably brighter than any star. To this it may be said that the fact that no such brilliant star is seen proves nothing because it may bea cold body like 48 94 THE GRAND CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE. the earth, and hence invisible since no reflected light ~ could make it visible at that distance. But there is another force not detected by the eye, yet omnipresent, that would render manifest the existence of such a body, I mean the attraction which it would exert upon neighboring stars. A world in the centre of the Pleiades, massive enough to control our sun and force it into an orbit in which it moves at the rate of four miles a second, would cause its immediate neigh- bors to revolve with such inconceivable velocity that only a few years would be necessary to make its existence evident. No such movements can be detected, hence no such body exists. Many who will readily accept all that has thus far been said, will be slow to believe that the sun, if revolving at all, which is scarcely questionable, revolves around a mere mathematical point, something which has neither length, breadth nor thickness, but position only ; and that this point is many thousand million miles distant from any star, or, in other words, that the sunis describ- ing its inconceivably great orbit around a mere point in empty space; 7. e., around nothing at all. Yet such is the fact. A very little consideration will serve to make this clear. Suppose, fora moment, that the only bodies in the universe were the sun and the nearest fixed star, and that these were of the same mass. Then, if they had a sufficient motion in a direction perpendicular to the line connecting them, they would move, not one around the other, but both around their common center of gravity, something as a pair of dumb bells, or two balls on oppo- site ends of a string. We have all seen how the string” is drawn taut, and the two balls revolve around some point between them, a point whose distance from each is inversely as the masses. In case of the star and our sun, if the masses were a4 CHARLES B. WARRING. 95 equal, the central point would be half way between them, or, in case the star was our present nearest neigh- bor, the fixed central point would be out in space, 10,000,000,000,000 miles away from each. _ If, however, the star were more massive than the sun, the point would be nearer to the star. If the latter were 1,000 times greater than our sun, the point would be 1,000 times nearer to it than to the sun, and yet distant from the former 20,000,000,000 miles, or more than 200 times farther from that enormous star than we are from the sun.. We may suppose another star added to this binary system, and, in similar manner, launched into space. _ The three bodies would revolve around the centre of gravity of the whole, and this, although the first and second would continue their rotation around their own mutual centre. We have an illustration of this in our solar system. The moon and earth revolve around their common centre, situated about 1,000 miles beneath the earth’s surface, and on the line connecting the two, while at the same time they revolve with the sun around the common centre of the three. If, to our triple system, other stars were added, the same law would hold good, although their movements would be so complicated as to defy the power of analysis. If not too near each other, if, for example, they were at such distances as actually separate the stars, system upon system might revolve in harmonious but compli- cated movements, whose paths no finite intelligence could calculate, and yet, save for some interstellar resisting medium, they would go on forever. From ali this I conclude, that the stability of the uni- verse is not due to the mastering power of some great central body, but to the action of part upon part com- bining all into one grand, orderly whole. The promise of permanency is found in the combined influence of the 45 96 | CHAIRMAN’S ANNUAL REPORT. primal impulse and of mutual gravitation. The former prevents the heavenly bodies from falling together, the latter keeps them from wandering off into the depths of space. There is something so awe inspiring in the vastness of the heavenly bodies, their immense distances, and their enormous velocities, that one isin danger of being puffed up with the pride of intellect that the human mind can trace the orbits of the planets, weigh the sun itself, and take up the planets and their satellites, weigh them as in scales, foretell eclipses for centuries to come, and give, better than the actual observers, the time of beginning and ending of eclipses that occurred thousands of years ago. ‘This all seems so great that we are tempted to ask, What is there that the human intellect cannot do? But when we look at the narrow bounds within which our calculus must work, then our pride comes down. The man who can trace a comet into the depths of almost infinite space, and tell where the goal is around which it wheels at the end of its course, and can announce the hour of its return, cannot tell where a falling leaf will strike the ground, nor trace a foot of its path. Every- where we find problems to which our best solutions are but approximations, from which we have carefully eliminated the real difficulties. The lesson is one of modesty and humility in the pres- ence of infinitely profounder problems that meet us on every side. Mr. Charles N. Arnold, chairman, presented his annual report, as follows: Members of the Scientific Section of the Vassar Brothers Institute : The meetings of the Scientific Section, Vassar Brothers Institute for the season of 1887-88 have been held with the customary recularity. 46 CHAIRMAN’S ANNUAL REPORT. 97 1887, 1. December 6. The chairman read some notes on ‘‘ Woods and ’ Gums.” 2. December 20. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., read a paper entitled “Miracles, Law, Evolution.” 1888. 3. January 10. Professor William B. Dwight, Ph.D., lectured on (1) ‘“‘ Some Practical Suggestions as to the Preparation of Microscopic Sections of Fossils ;” and (2) ‘‘New Devices in Machinery for Making Sections of Fossils and Minerals.” 4, January 24. A letter from Dr. A. F. Woodward, of Brandon, Vermont, concerning the ‘‘ Frozen Well,” was read, and informally discussed by the Section. A brief but interesting paper on the ‘Relative Brilliancy of the Moon and the Electric Light” was presented by Charles B. Warring, Ph.D. 5, February 14. Professor William B. Dwight, Ph.D., gave a very interesting report of some recent discoveries by him- self, 6. March 13. The ‘‘ blizzard” summarily postponed the meeting of the Scientific Section. 7. March 27, Mr. Charles L. Bristol gave ‘‘Some Notes on Ama- teur Photography.” 8. April 9. Professor Le Roy C. Cooley, Ph.D.,{read a paper on “‘ Divisibility of Coloring Matter and Sensibility of the Eye.” 9, April 24, Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., read a paper on ‘‘ Some Terrestrial and Astronomical Matters.” A very interesting feature of these meetings have been the reports made by the Curator and the Librarian. The latter has brought to the notice of the Section many things in the ‘‘Proceedings’’ received by exchange with other societies which, otherwise, might have es- caped the notice of members. The attendance has been about as large as usual. C. N. ARNOLD, Chairman. The following gentlemen were elected officers of the Section for 1888-89 : Chairman, : 2 . Mr. CHarwzs L. BRistor, Recording Secretary, . . Mr. James WINNE. A7 98 THE CAMBRIAN SYSTEM OF STRATA. Curator of the Museum, Wm. G. Stevenson, M.D. Librarian, : ; : Mr. CHARLES N. ARNOLD. NOVEMBER 27, 1888—SIXTY-FIFTH REGULAR MEETING. No paper was read, and the meeting was of an informal character. DECEMBER 18, 1888—SIXTY-SIXTH REGULAR MEETING. W. G. Stevenson, chairman pro tem., presiding. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., was elected chairman, vice Charles L. Bristol, removed from the city. The following resolutions were adopted by the Section: Resolved, That the Scientific Section petition the trus- tees of Vassar Brothers Institute to appropriate such sum of money as may be found necessary to properly catalogue the present library. Resolved, That the Scientific Section petition the trus- teesof Vassar Brothers Institute to purchase for the use of the Institute a stereopticon adequate to the demon- stration of scientific principles. JANUARY 15, 1889—SIXTY-SHEVENTH REGULAR MEETING. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., chairman, presiding ; seven members and thirteen guests present. The following paper was read by Professor W. B. Dwight: “THE CAMBRIAN SYSTEM OF STRATA.” BY WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. A very annoying confusion exists among geologists as to the classification and nomenclature of the lower sedi- mentary and metamorphosed rocks. Every geological field-worker in these strata encounters this difficulty 48 WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. 99 when he comes to make a report of his work. Whatever nomenclature he adopts is sure to meet with adverse criticism from many geologists. This confusion has had two chief points of origin ; one in Europe, one in America. The trouble in Europe arose primarily out of the excellent and honest, yet partially conflicting work of the two great field-workers on English strata—Sedgwick and Murchison. A fair account of II 4% this is given in Geikie’s ‘‘ Text Book of Geology. Mr. Murchison began in 1831 the study of the Sub- Devonian fossiliferous strata, which, as a whole, he desig- nated Silurian ; these he subsequently subdivided into Upper and Lower Silurian, with the dividing line be- tween the unconformable Upper and Lower Llandovery groups. In continuing his researches through a long period of years, he gradually extended the Lower Silu- rian downward by new finds of fossils until he made it to embrace all the lower strata which were characterized by a ‘‘trilobitic and brachiopodous fauna.’’ This was, in fact, claiming under his title all the lower strata _ known to be fossiliferous ; for all the strata presumably of sedimentary origin which were lower were considered and described as ‘‘barren slates and grits.”’ It should here be noted that Murchison was preéminently a paleon- tologist, and was guided in his stratigraphic conclusions primarily by the character of the fossils collected. His work was carried on chiefly along the borders of England and Wales. Meanwhile, Sedgwick, with no less zeal, beginning at the other and lowest end of the problem, had been carry- ing on his work in Wales. The lowest and barren schists and grits of Wales he called Cambrian. So far, there was as yet no conflict with the Silurian of Murchison. But he soon extended his researches and the title * Second Edition, 1885, page 650. 49 100 THE CAMBRIAN SYSTEM OF STRATA. Cambrian upward into the higher fossiliferous rocks closely related to the barren Cambrian strata first studied. Still Sedgwick paid little attention to the paleontology in drawing his conclusions ; he collected many fossils and laid them aside for future study, but he classified the rock on the general principles of comparative strati- graphy, somewhat independently of the paleontology. Thus he continued to work upward until he claimed as Cambrian strata not only the lowest ‘‘ barren shales and grits’? which Murchison had allowed him, but the higher strata up to the very base of the Upper Silurian. Thus Murchison’s ‘‘ Silurian’? and Sedgwick’s ‘‘ Cambrian ”’ overlapped each other in a confusion which has never since been resolved.* The title ‘‘ Primordial Zone,’’ proposed by Barrande for certain of the lower strata did not contribute any relief to the situation. A fair compromise has, however, been provisionally effected by some of the eminent British geologists by calling the entire mass of Sub-Devonian strata Silurian, and then dividing them into three members. ‘The lowest member is called the Cambrian or Primordial Silurian, and is itself subdivided into two series, the lower com- prising the Harlech, Longmynd and Menevian Groups, and the higher the Lingula Flags and, according to some authorities, the Tremadoc Slates also. The second mem- ber is called the Lower Silurian. Beginning where the Cambrian Silurian leaves off, it extends through the Lower Llandovery. The third member, called the Upper Silurian, beginning with the Upper Llandovery, extends to the Devonian. * For a more complete presentation of this topic see an article pub- lished by Professor James D. Dana since the reading of the present pa- per, entitled ‘‘Sedgwick and Murchison ; Cambrian and Silurian,” in the American Journal of Science, March, 1890. 5O WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. 101 The additional complication of American origin arose from the proposal by Professor Emmons of the name Taconic for strata supposed by him to be pre-Potsdam. This name, though not so conceived by Professor Em- mons, would, nevertheless, be a synonym for the earlier names—Cambrian and Primordial—proposed by Sedg- wick and Barrande. It has been, and still is, a sad source of contention among American, and to some ex- tent, among European geologists. But it has been clearly proved that, as originally applied by Professor Emmons, it covered strata which are for the most part Lower Silurian. This title, therefore, only makes the former confusion ‘‘ worse confounded,’’ and it would better be entirely dropped from geological nomenclature.* Many geologists in the United States have come to pre- fer the title Cambrian for the fossiliferous strata from the Potsdam or equivalent groups down ; some would, however, for reasons which are certainly strong, include the Calciferous, as more allied to the Potsdam than to the strata of the Trenton period. It would appear that this use of the term Cambrian is the one which meets the approval of the United States Geological Survey. If this plan is adopted, the next question would be as to the proper subdivision of the Cambrian strata. Mr. C. D. Walcott, the field geologist of the United States Geological Survey who is the chief expert in the study of these lower rocks, has recently proposed, and pro- visionally adopted, the following classification : 1. Upper Cambrian—Comprising the Potsdam Group, Tonto Group, &e. 2. Middle Cambrian—The Paradoxides horizon. *For a full presentation of the history of the Taconic discussions and researches, see the able paper by Professor James D. Dana entitled * A Brief History of Taconic Ideas,” American Journal of Science, De- cember, 1888. 52 102 DISCOVERY OF FOSSILIFEROUS STRATA OF THE 3. Lower Cambrian—Known as the Georgia Group, the Olenellus Group, &c.; the strata containing Olenel- lus trilobites. Until very recently, Mr. Walcott, and Mr. 8. W. Ford, - who is high authority 1n regard to Cambrian strata, had considered the ‘‘ Georgia Group”’ to be the Middle Cam- brian, and the Paradoxides beds the Lower Cambrian, in direct opposition to the views of the eminent Swedish authorities; but lately Mr. Walcott has discovered evi- dence which has conrpelled him for himself and others to reverse this opinion, and come into harmony with the Swedish views. Under this subdivision of the Cambrian, each member is characterized by a prevailing trilobitic type—the Up- per, by the Dicellocephalus ; the Middle, by the Para- doxides; the Lower, by the Olenellus. These trilobitic names may be used as convenient designations for the re- spective subdivisions. It must be noted, however, that while this is a conve- vient ‘‘working’’ subdivision, it is not at all certain, as yet, that it is in all respects a valid one ; for it is not yet fully established that the Lower and Middle Cambrian are entirely distinct groups in chronological sequence. In fact, some indications have been found of the possible mingling of their fossils. It may prove that the differ- ence in their fauna is one of sedimentation rather than of epoch. But until this should be proved, it seems more proper to give them the chronological order above indicated. DISCOVERY OF FOSSILIFEROUS STRATA OF THE MIDDLE CAMBRIAN, AT STISSING, N. Y. BY WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. My field work in Dutchess County since the early part of 1886 has shown the presence of very extensive strata 52 ; MIDDLE CAMBRIAN, AT STISSING, N. Y. 108 4 . of the Upper Cambrian, or Potsdam limestones, stretch- ing through the western part of the county ; also the oc- currence of both limestoneand quartzyte, containing fos- sils, of the Lower Cambrian or Olenellus horizon, which Strata are apparently abundant, though confined to the flanks of the gneissoid ranges forming conspicuous fea- tures in some parts of the county. Recent work enables me now to add another page to the Cambrian history of this vicinity, and a page of no small interest to geologists. _ About one-third of a mile south of Stissing station, on the New York and Massachusetts Railroad, there is alow cut through a ledge of massive arenaceous limestones, alternating with calcareous shales. In July, 1887, fossils were found in some of the loose limestone débris in this cut. They were too imperfect to identify thoroughly, but were supposed to belong probably to the Potsdam. In the summer of 1888, since fossils proved to be exceed- ingly scarce throughout the northern part of the county in these limestones and calcareous shales, a more careful search was made in this cut. The greater part of the ledge yielded no results, but at last a thin fossiliferous layer was found near the ground, and very close to the railway track, not far from the southern end of the cut, ‘and on the west side. Roadmaster Joseph D. Neal very kindly put at my disposal a gang of the railroad employés to make the necessary excavation. Mr. Palmateer, who has charge of this ‘‘section,’’ rendered very efficient service in con- ducting this work, and showed much skill in detecting fossils. The organisms discovered proved to be highly important in their stratigraphic relations, as well as in- teresting in themselves. They are all new and unde- scribed species, except one; but their character shows clearly that the rocks in this cut belong to the Middle Cambrian or Paradoxides horizon. This is the first time 58 104 DISCOVERY OF FOSSILIFEROUS STRATA OF THE that strata of this epoch have been identified in this State, with the single exception of the discovery, earlier in the same season, by Mr. C. D. Walcott of the United States Geological Survey, of fossils which he is ‘ in- clined to refer to the Paradoxides zone,’’ in a locality in Washington County. Fragments of these fossils abound in some of the thin layers at Stissing ; but good specimens are very rare, and have been secured only by the breaking up of a great deal of the rock into small fragments. Some of these specimens exhibit the details of the structure quite per- fectly. The list of the fossils of the Paradoxides zone ob- tained in excavating the rock in this locality is as follows: 1. Hyolithes Billingsi?’—Plate —, fig. 1.—About halfa dozen poorly preserved tubes of a fossil, referred to this species, have been found here. They are from eight to twelve millimeters long, and from three to four in diam- eter at the aperture. This fossil, even if the species were certain, would not determine the exact epoch, as it has considerable range of occurrence. 2., Leperditia ebenina—Plate —, figs. 2, 3 and 4.— © New species. This ostracoid has a very characteristic jet black, shining, sub-elliptical carapace, about eight millimeters in length. The exterior surface-is quite pe- culiarly ornamented in this way; the entire border of each valve, to the width of about two millimeters in the larger specimens, is covered with extremely minute, con- liguous pits, about 100 to 150 to a square millimeter. All the surface within this border is covered with much larger, separated pits, the interspaces being at least as wide as the pits. The disposition of these pits is quite irregular, but they average about 15 or 20 to the square millimeter. There is also a linear marginal groove along ‘tthe ventral border. The central portions of the internal surfaces of the valves are covered with scattered, well- 54 MIDDLE CAMBRIAN, AT STISSING, N. Y. 105 defined tubercles, corresponding, apparently, with the scattered pits of the external surface. 3. Kutorgina Stissingensis—Plate —, figs. 5, 6, 7 and 8.—New species. Shell black, phosphatic; width slightly greater than the length, and, in most of the specimens collected, is about eight millimeters. General shape semi-circular. ‘The ventral valve has an elevated, pointed beak, from which the surface slopes down regularly toward the lateral margins, while in sloping down to the front margin it sometimes becomes concave centrally to the shell. Along the cardinal border of this valve, the shell is suddenly deflexed toward the hinge line, making a false area, separated centrally into two parts by a va- cant deltidial space. The dorsal valve is depressed and nearly flat, with a low beak. The surfaces of both valves are covered with very fine, sharp, concentric ridges, traversed by strie scarcely visi- ble to the naked eye. These surface markings are in- clined to run into minute undulations, and the effect of © this ornamentation, as viewed througha strong triplet, is often that of lovely basketwork. This exquisitely beautiful shell is allied to the well- known species, Kutorgina Labradorica. Imperfect frag- ments of it abound in these layers, and would easily be taken for fragments of Lingulepis pinniformis of the Potsdam. Close inspection will, however, reveal this distinction ; the concentric ridges or lamine of L. pin- niformis (at least as exhibited in Dutchess County, N. _Y.), are feebly defined, when magnified, and often run together obscurely ; while those of Kutorgina Stissing- ensis, as viewed with astrong triplet, are deeply cut, and generally individualized with exquisite perfection. 4, Olenoides Stissingensis.—Plate —, figs 9-15.—New species. This trilobite is very important in determining the epoch of these strata, since it belongs to a genus 55 106 DISCOVERY OF FOSSILIFEROUS STRATA OF THE which is believed to be characteristic of Middle Cam- brian strata. The body is elongate ovate, a little over three centimeters long in the only entire specimen found. The head is large, semi-circular, with large elongate eyes, The glabella is elongate, its length about one and two- thirds times its least width. Dorsal furrow well defined, but not deep. . Glabellar furrows, three or four. Occi- pital furrow strongly defined at its outer extremities, but narrow and shallow at the center. Occipital ring trian- gular; lower than the glabella ; very broad centrally, narrowing rapidly toward the lateral terminations ; it terminates posteriorly in an obtuse point. The free cheeks are triangular, and havealong spine. Hypostoma triangular, well rounded anteriorly, with a well-marked annulation near the small posterior end. The thorax contains eight segments. A linear furrow, deeply impressed, passes from one posterior angle of each axial segment to the other, traversing the central point of the segment in a circular line, convex anteriorly. There is a tubercle, or perhaps the base of a spine, on each axial segment, just to the rear of its center. The pleural segments are depressed, convex, and ex- tend at nearly right angles to the axis; they are nar- rowed from the anterior side, and prolonged into flat, acute, recurved spines, with broad, contiguous bases. The pygidium is of moderate size, triangular; axis strong, elevated, obconical, with at least two transverse furrows anteriorly. The lateral lobes consist of an inner depressed convex portion, traversed by two or three oblique furrows, and a perfectly flat and moderately broad margin, from which three flat and acute spines extend backward. This interesting trilobite is closely related to Olenoides Nevadensis, Meek ; but it differs strongly in the more slender thoracic axis, the shape and surface markings of the axial thoracic segments, the broad, flat, pleural thor- 56 MIDDLE CAMBRIAN, AT STISSING, N. Y. 107 acic spinous processes, and the different structure of the pygidium. It is very desirable that other fossiliferous localities of this zone should be found in the county ; but much search has so far failed to reveal any such in the immense displays of calcareous shales associated with limestones in the northern part of Dutchess County. EXPLANATION OF PLATE. MIDDLE CAMBRIAN FOSSILS FROM STISSING, N. Y. Natural size, except where otherwise noted. All are from the cal- careous shales, except those represented by figs. 5, 6 and 15, which are from the limestones. Fig. 1. Hyolithes Billingsi (?), cast of interior, showing three or four slight annulations ; the anterior one more prominent than the others. Fig. 2. Leperditia ebenina, n. sp., enlarged to 2 diameters ; fragment of (right?) valve, showing the line of the hinge, and a sloping dorsal angle, also the outer belt of minute contigu- ous pits, and the inner tract of larger separated pits. The ornamentation indicates that the complete carapace must have been at least one-sixth longer than the fragment. Fig. 3. ZL. ebenina enlarged to 2 diameters: lacking the cardinal mar- gin; showing perfectly the peculiar surface-pitting, and the ventralifurrow. Fig. 4. J. ebenina, interior view of a central fragment of a valve; showing the separated tubercles, corresponding to the sep- arated pits of the central exterior. Enlarged to 2 diameters. Fig. 5. Kutorgina}Stissingensis, n.sp., enlarged to 2 diameters ; a natu- ral cast of the dorsal valve. ' Fig. 6. K. Stissingensis ; enlarged to 2 diameters ; ventral valve ; with a side view of the elevation. Fig. 7. Gutta percha cast of a natural impression of the interior of the unbonal region of a -ventral valve, referred to K. Stissingensis ; showing a medial septum from which fine stric diverge, and muscular impressions, enlarged to 3 di- ameters. Fig. 8. K. Stissingensis, cardinal view ; showing false area, deltidial opening and the rounded edge between the false area and the main surface of the valve; enlarged to 2 diameters. 57 108 DISCOVERY OF MIDDLE CAMBRIAN FOSSILS. PLATE. W.B. Dwight dd. MIDDLE CAMBRIAN FOSSILS FROM STISSING, N. Y. 58 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. 109 Figs. 9and 10. Olenoides Stissingensis, n. sp.; the glabella. Fig. 9 from an artificial cast, Fig. 10 with aside view of the ele- vation. Fig. 11. 0. Stissingensis, pygidium. Fig. 12. O. Stissingensis, pygidium, with four attached thoracic seg- ments. Fig. 18. A free cheek, associated with O, Stissingensis. Fig. 14. Hypostoma of O. Stissingensis. Fig. 15. O. Stissingensis, full length, showing eight thoracic segments; details of the glabella obliterated or distorted by compres- sion, Dr. Stevenson nominated for membership of the sec- tion, Dr. David B. Ward. JANUARY 29, 1889. SIXTY-EIGHTH REGULAR MEETING. Dr. Charles B. Warring, chairman, presiding; the curator reported that a catalogue of the Herbarium was being prepared. The librarian reported the reception from Colorado School of Mines, its quarterly publica- tion ; also the publication of the Society of Natural His- tory, of Glasgow ; also a communication from a society of Naturalists at Kieo, asking an exchange of publica- tions. Dr. David B. Ward, Dr. J. E. Hoffman, and Mr. Gilbert Van Ingen, were unanimously elected members of the section. FEBRUARY 12, 1889. SIXTY-NINTH REGULAR MEETING. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., chairman, presiding; ten members and five guests present. The chairman, Dr. Warring, read the following papers, which were discussed by the members present : SOME CURIOUS SIMPLE EQUATIONS. It has long been my custom to form, extempore, ex- ercises for my classes in Algebra. Once throwing to- 59 110 SOME CURIOUS SIMPLE EQUATIONS. gether, almost haphazzard, three equations, apparently independent of each other, I found that they would not solve. The following is substantially the set of equa- tions which I happened on: (No. 1.) v+2y+32z=6 a+4y+7z=12 w+3y+52=9 These are apparently independent but on trial it will be found that when reduced they give two identical equations. As some other teacher may happen on a similar set and be perplexed, for, so far as I know, no one has ever noticed, much less explained them, I propose in this paper to supply the deficiency, first giving by way of illustration several sets possessing the same curious pro- perties. (No. 2.) L—-Y-—W=4 2%—5y—60=b 18z—3y—2w=c (No. 3.) st+y—w=r ' Ww (No. 4.) | w—y+3z—w=a4 These will suffice. They can be indefinitely increased, _ and any number of letters may be used. sO CHARLES B. WARRING. bla It will be seen from the number of such equations that can be made that it may easily occur to a teacher in giving examples off-hand, to hit upon some of this kind. On examination it will be seen that the co-efficients in each equation of No. 1 are in arithmetical progression. The same is true of each of the other sets but the pro- gression is not apparent. It was obtained thus: I wrote r+94+3(y)=m 2455) )=9 32+) )=p Here the co-efficients are in arithmetic progression. We have only to remove the brackets and clear of fractions and then we have set No. 2. As to No. 3: I wrote, +22) x3) =a x+0(%)-1G)=¢ oa) 2 nel ~)=P and by the same process, a get me set. No. 4 was formed in like manner. In no case can equations, the co-efficients of whose terms form, in each equation, an ceiniaateipaee progression be solved. Proof. Let v+(1+a)y+(1+2a)z=¢ t+(14na)y+(1+2n4a)z=9q’ r+(1in’a)y+(1+2n’/a)z=q" be three general equations the co-efficients of which are in arithmetical progressions. By subtraction we have (na— a)y+(2na — 2a)z=9'— g (n’a— na)y+(2n/a — 2na)\z=q'—q’ 61 112 IMAGINARY QUANTITIES—THEIR PHILOSOPHY. Dividing by the co-efficients of y and Z, we have Mie & Yyt2z2= na Oe Pe aR:. q Ce an’—a the left hand members of which are identical. Since a is any difference, and na and n’a any multiples of a, all equations will come out the same way.—Q. E. D. It can be shown inthe same way that four, or any num- ber of equations, whose coefficients are in arithmetical progression, are indeterminate. IMAGINARY QUANTITIES—THEIR PHILOSOPHY . BY C. B. WARRING, Ph.D. An imaginary quantity is defined to be the even root of a negative quantity. for example, ”-a@; and aroot of a number isa number which, multiplied by itself, will produce thatnumber. It follows from the idea of, oppo- sition, which is the fundamental difference between ++ and —, that while + x-++ produces +, so also —X— pro- duces -++. oe I may write on the board the expression ,/—1. But since +1x+1=+1 and —1x -1=-+1, there can be no such number as the square root of —1, 7. e., no number which, multiplied by itself, will produce —1. The mind is baffled when it endeavors to form a conception of such anumber. For this reason, such expressions have very justly been called impossible quantities, and, very incor- rectly, imaginary quantities, for the imagination refuses to recognize them. A better name would be pseuds (from #&vdos). Their claim to this title will appear later on. Yet certain very real results are obtained by their use. If, e. g., I multiply (6—5,/—1) by (6+5,/—1), I get 61, a result from which both imaginaries have vanished, 62 CHARLES B. WARRING. 113 And besides this, some mathematical truths otherwise not easily demonstrated are obtained by theirhelp. The following example, taken in substance from the ninth edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, will suffice for an illustration : It is required to demonstrate that the product of the sum of two squares is itself the sum of two other squares. In other words, it is required to prove that (a’-|-6*)--(e'-+-d@’) equals the sum of two squares. (1). Since (a+tyv —1)(~v—yvV —1)=2'+y’, we may as- sume Sans poet (2). a@+0°=(a--by —1)(a—by —1). (3). ¢+d’=(ce+dy —1)(e—dV —1). (2) (3)=(a+bv —1)(e—dv —1)(a—by -1)(e+-dv = 1) Or, (ac—adv —1-+-bev —1-++-dd) (ac--advV —1—bev —1 +d). Or, (ac+bd+be—adv —1) (ac+bd—bc—adv —1). If we put ac+bd=A, and b¢c—ad=B, we have (2) X(3)=(A+B V—-1) (A—By-—1) or, (@°+0*) (c’+d*)= A’+B’. Q. E. D. What then can be done to reconcile our minds to the apparently illogical result that, from unreal, impossible premises, come real and true conclusions ? To aid in doing this, it has been attempted to represent the impossible (or ‘‘ imaginary ’’) quantities graphically. It has been said that Multiplication, in its broad sense, is not merely, as in Arithmetic, a process of repeating the Multiplicand, but, in algebra, it includes another idea, that of direction, and multiplying by —1 reverses the direction of the multiplicand, if this be represented by aline. Starting from «a certain point called the ori- gin, we agree that all toward the right shall be called positive, and all toward the left negative. Now, if we have one or more + units, ¢.¢., to the right, and multiply 68 114 IMAGINARY QUANTITIES—THEIR PHILOSOPHY. by, ¢. g., —1, the effect, it is said, is to revolve the line OB about the origin O to the position OA’, OA describ- multiplied by —1, passes in succession through all in- perpendicular to AA’. B Ca v1, a and 1x V —1, by OB’, the an- v —1 should =OA’, or—OA. way between+and-. In reality, the change is usually and forth ina straight line, its motion becoming alter- sliding it by that point while keeping it parallel to itself. [a O termediate positions. Hence, as —1=/ —1xv =I, on; in other words, as there are here two equal factors, one This line, OB, is said to be the graphical representation With perfect consistency, 1t — O A is said 1x V —1 is represented gle AOB" being + of 180°, and so on. But, since V — 1=-1, the result of multiplying OA by In this graphic representation it is assumed that, in changing from + to —, OA, describes a semi-circumference made in a different way. A man walking east does not go west by any such circuitous route. A point in a nately + and—. If 100 feet east is changed to 100 west, the result is attained, not necessarily by revolving my Again, itis an objection to sucha representation of im- 64 ing a semi-circle on AA’, and implying that OA, when of ‘them will cause the line to rotate half way, or become of a unit x 7-1, or simply by OB’, AOB’ being 4 of 180° ; either of them should be the same, and, therefore, OAx about O, so that it has at one time the position OB, half- chord vibrating under a single impulse, goes back tape around the fixed point, or “ origin,’’ but rather by CHARLES B. WARRING. 115 possible, or imaginary quantities that it gives a line which is neither larger, nor smaller, nor equal to certain other lines inthesame diagram. It is true that such a relation, or rather such a lack of relation, can be predicated of é. g., color and weight, or music and painting, but we do not attempt any graphical representation which brings both into one diagram. Whatever advantages there may be in this mode of representing imaginary quantities, it explains nothing, _for it is itself founded on the postulate thatv—1xv—1= the actual quantity —1, and itis in this that the real difficulty lies. How is it that out of quantities that do not exist, real results arise ? Thus, e. g., if I multiply 54v —1 by 5—4v—1, I get 41; or, omitting the real number, I multiply say —,/— 16 by +/—4, I get the real and positive number 8. I take something which does not exist, and multiply it by a number that does not exist, and I get something which does exist. I think the explanation of these results lies in the principle that one false supposition may be corrected by another. Asin grammar, we say two negatives make an affirmative, so in mathematics two suppositions, both false, may give a truth. One falsehood in our reasoning will vitiate our conclusion, but two may neutralize each other. If they do, then our conclusion will be true. If, for instance, I say that I stepped this even- ing from my office across the Atlantic into London,. the conclusion would be that I am now in London, a false one. But if ladd that I stepped from there into this, our Institute, then the logical conclusion would be that I came this evening from my office to this place, and this is the truth. I may put into my reasoning as many of these misstatements as I please ; and if, in mathemati- cal phrase, their sum is zero, my conclusion will be true. 65 116 GLACIAL PHENOMENA. If I write 5+2,/— 1, it cannot equal any real number. If I write it equal to something, the statement is absurd : Whether I write 5+2,/— 1=v 29 or 5 — 2,/-1=4/29 each is a mathematical falsehood. But let me combine the two by multiplication, the imaginaries disappear, and I have the truth, 29=29. Untruths need to be handled carefully to get truth from their combination. If I had added the two pseudo-equations together, or had subtracted one from the other, the result would be false, for 10 does not equal 2,/29, nor does 4yV—1=0. If I take impos- sible quantities and perform upon them an impossible operation, the result may be a real, and, consequently, atrue one. It therefore need excite no surprise that in the hand of a master such expressions as /—1 or/—a* “—1, should yield real quantities. FEBRUARY 26, 1889—SEVENTIETH REGULAR MEETING. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., chairman, presiding ; twelve members and fifteen guests present. Professor William B. Dwight, Ph.D., read a paper on ‘¢ Glacial Phenomena.”’ This paper called attention to some of the more recent views of glacial phenomena, founded upon the latest ob- servations. Two points of special importance were presented : 1. The fact that Canadian geologists have been gener- ally inclined to assign the phenomena of glaciation, as observed by them, to floating ice ; pointing, for instance, to similar phenomena annually occurring in the mighty spring flood along the banks of the St. Lawrence River. On the other hand, the geologists of the United States 66 WILLIAM B. DWIGHT. 117 almost universally attribute the glacial phenomena of this country to glacier movements. These apparently opposing views are now likely to find their reconcilement in the probability that in the United States the phenomena were chiefly due to glaciers, while in Canada there is reason to believe that icebergs or ice-fields, floating on great bays or rivers, may have com- bined with the great glaciers, which were undoubtedly present, to produce the visible phenomena of glaciation. Thus it is supposed that a great gulf of the Arctic ocean may have extended southward a long distance, up the basin of the Mackenzie River, carrying icebergs which produced the glacial phenomena of a large part of that region. (See ‘‘Glaciers and Glacial Radiants,’’? by Dr. E. W. Claypole, in the American Geologist, February, 1889, page 83.) 2. The supposition that there was an enormously thick ice-cap covering the entire polar regions and extending south we!l into temperate latitudes, which is the basis of ‘*Croll’s theory,’ is becoming pretty thoroughly dissi- pated by recent investigations. It seems now highly probable that there was not even a uniformly thick sheet of ice stretched across the northern part of the North American continent from Labrador to Alaska, producing the embossing and striations everywhere visible in the high latitudes of the United States and in Canada. For | it is now well understood that icebergs cannot be formed except from glaciers ; that glaciers cannot be formed in great and continuous ice masses without the combination of heavy precipitation of snow, with the right conditions of enduring cold, and also of a difference between the cold and moisture of winterand of summer. Heavy pre- cipitation of snow can occur only in regions of great moisture ; and where the maxima of moisture exist with the other conditions, there will be the maximum thick- ness of ice-sheets, and vice versa. 67 118 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. It is then evident that the heavy falls of snow will be near the borders of the boreal portions of the continent, while the interior parts will be thinly covered. More- over, the elevated borders, are, by. their elevation, better fitted to be the locus of thick ice-sheets than the low hills of the interior basins. There is found to be a close correspondence between these principles and the facts shown by the glacial phe- nomena observed. There appear to be two great ra- diant centres of enormous glacial deposition in north- ern Canada and the United States—one in the re- gion around Hudson Bay, the other in Alaska. From these the great glacier movements radiated, while to the north of the central portion of North America the gla- cial sheet was thin, and at intervals, perhaps, entirely intermitted. Greenland has, of course, always been a ‘‘olacial radiant.’’ In Europe, the glacial radiant for England, Germany and Russia was the Scandinavian peninsula. There is no reason to suppose that any thick sheet of ice existed continuously, and at great elevation, in the insular or archipelagic portions of the Arctic re- gions. Fora full discussion of this interesting subject, reference is made to the paper of Dr. Claypole, above cited. It is estimated by Professor W. Upham that, in the - culmination of the two principal glacial epochs, the thick- ness of the ice-sheet on the Laurentian highlands, and in the basin of James Bay, and over the south part of Hudson Bay. was from 10,000 to 12,000 feet. MARCH 12, 1889—SEVENTY-FIRST REGULAR MEETING. The meeting was of a social and informal character, no paper being presented. 6s TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. 119 MARCH 26, 1889—SEVENTY-SECOND REGULAR MEETING. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., chairman, presiding; eight members and several guests present. Professor L. C. Cooley, Ph.D., addressed the Section on ‘‘ Illustrations of Simple Harmonic Motion.”’ The subject was fully illustrated by a series of experi- ments and by the lantern. APRIL 9, 1889—SEVENTY-THIRD REGULAR MEETING, Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., chairman, presiding. Mr. Edward Elsworth read a paper on THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. So common has the camera become ; so familiar are its mechanical construction and operations that thousands of its votaries doubtless forget, if they ever knew, that photography is the outcome of a long line of baffling scientific investigations. ‘* Any one can take pictures.”’ advertises an enterpris- ing manufacturer of cameras. ‘‘ All that is necessary is to press a button. We do all the rest.”’ So there are many who never seek to penetrate the mysterious arena of the dark room, and scarcely stop to think how a photograph is made. Perhaps no art has ever been so thoroughly popular- ized as the art of photography. But photography is more than a popular art. It is the legitimate child of science. It owes its development to years of patient la- bor and study of the subtle properties of light and its action upon sensitive surfaces. Art has popularized it, and established its commercial value ; but its victories belong to the laboratory, and its future depends upon the experiments and investigation of the chemist. ) 69 120 THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. The discoloring action of rays of light upon different substances has been the subject of observation for many centuries, but only within the last fifty years has experi- mental science demonstrated and explained the chemical reactions produced by light. The most ancient references to the subject may be sug- gested by the facts that inthe British Museum there is exhibited an object resembling a lens, which is said to have been found among the ruins of the ancient city of Nineveh ; and that Pliny recorded as a result of his ob- servation that yellow wax was bleached by exposure to sunlight. Fabricius, about the middle of the sixteenth century, searching for gold, found that the lunar cornea, or horn- silver, could be prepared by addinga solution of common salt to a solution of silver nitrate, and he was surprised at, and recorded the fact that this white compound turned quickly black when exposed to the sunlight. No thought of utilizing this discovery seems to have occurred to him. In 1727, Schultze obtained copies of writing, by writing first upon a paper whose surface had been prepared by chalk and nitrate of silver. It was found that the sun’s rays passing through comparatively transparent paper blackened the surface of the prepared paper be- neath, except where intercepted by the ink forming the letters, producing a white copy upon a black background. But it does not appear that Schultze made any attempt to fix the result of his experiment, or even put it to any practical use, and the experiment stands as an isolated one, yielding no fruit for half a century at least. It remained for the distinguished chemist, Scheele, of Straslund, to first investigate and, in a measure, demon- strate, the chemical effect of the spectrum, thus stimu- lating the long line of investigation which led to the dis- covery of photography. 70 EDWARD ELLSWORTH. 2 He discovered the facts, in 1777, that the different col- ored rays of light exercised an unequal effect upon the salts of silver ; that silver chloride was darkened by the violet or blue rays in much less time than by the yellow or red rays. He also first discovered the cause of the darkening, viz.: that the effect of white light upon chlo- ride of silver is to decompose it. This he accomplished by exposing chloride of silver under water, pouring off the water, and then adding a little nitrate of silver, whereby chloride of silver was again produced ; proving that a decomposition of the former substance had taken place, and that chlorine had been dissolved in the water. The conclusions of Scheele were disputed by some, even the distinguished Count Rumford maintaining that the active agent was heat, and not light. But the main results of Scheele’s experiments are not disputed to-day. Still no one appeared to conceive any practical use to which the discovery of Scheele could be put. Although for more than a century suggestions had appeared along the way, they have waited until almost the last half of the nineteenth century to be developed into practical media for utilizing the knowledge of the philosophers that sunlight will print an image upon a surface coated with the salts of silver. The camera had already been invented, and, by means of a lens, forms of which had been constructed ages _ be- fore, beautiful pictures of scenery had been reflected upon the white walls of a chamber ; and the secret door of photography seems almost to have been unlocked by a Frenchman, de la Roche, in 1760, in a book called ‘‘ Gi- phantie,’’ wherein he transports his hero to a strange land, where he is shown the method by which the native genii produce pictures. ‘‘ You know,” he writes, ‘‘ that rays of light reflected from different bodies form pic- tures, paint the image reflected on all polished surfaces ; for example, on the retina of the eye, on water and on Tal 122 THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. glass. The spirits have sought to fix these floating images; they have made a subtle matter by means of which a picture is formed in the twinkling of an eye. They coat a piece of canvas with this matter, and place it in front of the object to be taken. The first effect of this cloth is similar to that of a mirror, but, by means of its viscous nature, the prepared canvas, as is not the case with the mirror, retains a fac simile of the image. The mirror represents images faithfully, but retains none. Our canvas reflects them no less faithfully, but retains them all. This impression of the image is instantaneous. The canvas is then removed and deposited in a dark place. An hour later the impression is dry, and you havea picturein that no art can imitate its truthfulness.” This was, of course, several years before Scheele’s ex- periments, and was purely the creation of de la Roche’s imagination, yet it reads to-day like a remarkable prophecy, and surely may have stimulated_the efforts of those who ultimately solved the problems of sun printing. The early years of the nineteenth century were marked by the experiments of Wedgwood (one of the great English doctors) and of Sir Humphrey Davy, both of whom endeavored to secure the pictures formed within a camera, but without success. Davy discovered that chloride of silver was much more sensitive than the ni- trate, and by using the concentrated light of the solar microscope he obtained images of small objects upon pa- per which had been coated with chloride of silver. How to secure these images presented a new problem, which Davy did nct live tosolve. He wrote: ‘‘ Nothing but a method of preventing the unshaded parts of the _delineations from being colored by exposure to the day is wanting to render this process as useful as it is.elegant.”’ The experiments of Nicéphore Niepce, with the bitu- men process of contact printing, and the action of light upon silver, bitumen and other substances, are inter- 72 EDWARD ELSWORTH. 193 esting, only in their relation to the agreement and partnership which in 1829, was consummated between Niepce and Daguerre. Daguerre, the distinguished Frenchman, whose name is connected with the first suc- cessful effort to permanently fix the photographic image, was born near Paris in 1787. In his early man- hood he became a scene painter, and frequently employ- ing the ordinary camera obscura, he became inspired by the beauty and perfection of the pictures produced thereby, to attempt the discovery of some method by which they could be permanently retained. He was without any scientific training, and appears to have passed at least five years without accomplishing any- thing in the desired direction, except the production of a camera fitted with some lenses which he purchased from a well-known optician. Hearing of Niepce in 1826, he attempted a correspon- dence with him, which met with but curt response; but in 1829, the two met in Paris and a friendly intercourse soon ripened into a copartnership, which continued until Niepce’s death, and thereafter with the latter’s son Isador. For ten years Daguerre struggled, his ordinary busi- ness neglected, subjected to suspicion of insanity, striving ever, without much method perhaps, but with a vast amount of patience and perseverance, to discover some way to capture the fleeting images formed within his camera. In 1838 he proclaimed success, and showing the re- sults of his process to the eminent scientist, Arago, Arago was so celighted that he endorsed the discovery in the highest degree, and it was upon his recommenda- tion that the French Government conferred upon Da- guerre a life pension of six thousand francs, and upon Isador Niepce, a like pension of four thousand frances. 73 124 THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. The condition of these pensions was that the discovery should be given to the world. The success of Daguerre’s and Niepce’s efforts de- pended chiefly upon an accident. Daguerre used the same materials which had been used by Wedgwood and Davy, viz., chloride and nitrate of silver upon paper, with no better result. Niepce sometimes used metal plates coated with silver and em- ployed iodine to darken the exposed portions. Using vapor of iodine and silver coated plates. Daguerre found that the iodide of silver formed by exposing the plates to the vapor of iodine was sensitive to light, and that faint images of brightly illuminated objects became visible after an exposure of twoor three hours. Leaving one day what he supposed was an underexposed plate, in a dark cupboard, he was surprised on the following morning to find thereon a distinct and perfect image. He repeated the experiment again and again, always with the same result. By a process of elimination he ultimately discovered that the development of the image was due to the fact that the plates had been exposed while in the cupboard to the vapor escaping from a broken vessel of mercury. Daguerre at once utilized his fortunate discovery by placing his exposed plates over a dish of warm mercury, the vapor from which acted upon the iodized silver in exact proportion to the intensity of the light, by which each part of the surface of the plates had been affected. The result was a perfect picture, but now came again the problem which had confronted Davy. Some por- tions of the silver iodide had not been acted upon at all, and in a short time, exposure to the light must darken these and destroy the picture. It became necessary to remove from the plate all of the iodide of silver which had not been affected by the light. Daguerre at first used a strong solution of common 74 EDWARD ELSWORTH. 125 salt for this purpose, but in 1839, Sir John. Herschel called his attention to the superior qualities of hyposul- phite of soda as a solvent of silver salts, and Daguerre immediately adopted it. It has ever since been used for the same purpose, and the hypo bath is an indispensabie adjunct of every pho- tographer’s dark room at the present day. Such was the birth of photography ! Thanks to the generosity of the French Government in giving the benefit of Daguerre’s discovery to the world, the process almost immediately made its ap- pearance in England and in America, and during the year 1839, the very year in which Daguerre announced his success, Prof. Morse, then a rising American portrait painter, and Prof. Draper, the well-known chemist, were the first to apply the new process to portraiture. The length of time required for a sitting however, made the newly acquired art, of limited practical value. In order that this process of Daguerre may be more clearly understood, reference is made to an article by Prof. E. A. Aikin, M.D., of the University of Maryland, published in the Maryland Medical and Surgical Jour- nal, of April, 1840, which is almost the jirst, if not the jirst notice of Daguerre’s discovery, published in this country. Prof. Aikin divides the process into five parts : First—Preparing the plate, 7. e., plating a thin plate — of copper with a thin coating of a silver solution; then polishing the silver surface with pumice and oil, clean- ing it finally with dilute nitric acid, heating, cooling suddenly and repeating the polishing, until the surface became as clear and perfect as a mirror. This part of the process was a very difficult one on account of the lia- bility to lay bare the copper, in which case the work had to be done over again from the beginning. Second—To apply the coating of iodide. This was 75 126 THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. done in a box made for the purpose, in which the pol- ished plate was exposed to the vapor of iodine. Third—The third operation was the exposure of the plate thus sensitized in the camera box—time of ex- posure from three to thirty minutes. Fourth—The fourth operation was the delicate one of development of the image by exposing the plate to the vapor of mercury, which also had to be done ina special box, wherein the mercury was vaporized by means of a spirit lamp; the temperature carefully regulated, and the development of the picture watched through a small glass window. Fifth—The last operation was the fixing in hyposul- phite of soda and washing in clean, hot water. In 1840, a Mr. Goddard of London, and in 1841 M. Claudet of Paris, discovered that the vapor of bromine and chlorine, respectively adding to the iodide of silver a deposit of bromide or chloride of silver, each rendered the plates much more sensitive to the action of light, re- ducing the time of exposure from thirty minutes to less than one minute. With these discoveries, the daguerreo- type seems to have reached its perfection. The period of its utility covered about ten years. I have called the discovery of Daguerre the birth of photography, but we must not lose sight of the fact that, at the very period when Daguerre and Niepce were pur- suing their experimental work, another man, an English- man, following the lines long before indicated by Wedg- wood and Davy, was developing a process for securing the fickle image of the camera obscura, and had actually succeeded when the proclamation of Daguerre’s success was made. It is quite probable, or I may say certain, that but for the lucky accident which disclosed the se- cret of developing the latent image on Daguerre’s sil- vered plates, Fox Talbot would be Known to-day as the father of photography. 76 EDWARD ELSWORTH. 127 His process consisted in soaking a sheet of fine writing paper in a weak solution of common salt, and then brush- ing one side of it with a solution of nitrate of silver, Talcot discovered that paper treated in this way darkened very rapidly in bright sunlight. After an hour’s ex- posure in an ordinary camera obscura, he obtained a dis- tinct impression of the picture formed by the lens. He then fized his prints (7. e., dissolved out the silver salt not acted upon by the light) by washing them thor- oughly in water or in a solution of bromide or iodide of potassa. He subsequently adopted the use of iodide of silver instead of the nitrate, but in all other respects his process was very different from that of Daguerre. He further discovered that, if his sensitized paper were brushed over with a mixture of gallic acid and sil- ver nitrate it was rendered much more sensitive, and the time of exposure correspondingly reduced. He called his process the Calotype process, and had it patented in England. His pictures were negatives, that is, the lights and shades were just the reverse of what they were in nature, the brightest part of a landscape being represented by black patches of reduced silver, while dark shadows, etc., were white. The paper, being semi-transparent, was made more so by the use of wax or some other translucent substance, and positive prints were made therefrom upon sensitized paper. Fox Talbot, therefore, made the first printing negative, and actually printed the first positives. To the translucent paper negatives of Talbot we are indebted for another advance, suggested by Sir John Herschel, viz.: the use of glass plates as a support for the sensitive salts of silver. But Sir John’s method of preparing such plates by immersing them in a bath of silver chloride until a film of silver had formed upon the surface of the glass, was not successful. Niepce de St. Victor, a nephew of Daguerre’s former Tl 128 THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. partner, recognized the fact that it was necessary to coat the glass with a film of some suitable substance, in and on which the particles to be affected by the light might rest. After many experiments, he resorted to albumen, mixed with iodide of potassa, bromide of potassa, and common salt, in fixed proportions. The clear liquid was poured upon a glass plate, dried and heated until the al- bumen hardened and became insoluble. It was then sen- sitized by being dipped into a bath of silver nitrate; — after which it could be at once used, or dried and kept in a dark place until wanted. Such plates were developed in a solution of gallic acid, and jfized in the usual way’; but their great disadvantage lay in the fact that they re- quired too long exposure to make them of practical value. For portraiture, the daguerreotype held sway, and for sharp, clear beauty of detail has never been surpassed. An American (Maynard, of Boston) gave to the world collodion in the year 1847. The photographers of Europe were quick to seizeupon it as a possible coating for plates before sensitizing. There is considerable uncertainty as to who first sug- gested its use and successfully put the suggestion into practice—Le Gray, a Frenchman, Bingham and Scott Archer, Englishmen, being rival disputants for the honor. Tam of the opinion that Le Gray was the first one who actually used a collodion film and obtained upon it a pic- ture, which he did by a process described by him in a treatise published in 1849. To Scott Archer, however, the photographic world is indebted for the improvement and development of the collodion process, which marked in 1853 the greatest ad- vance since the publication of Daguerre’s method, a pro- cess known thereafter as the wet-plate process, which in a very short time practically drove daguerreotypes, calo- types, and all the other photo types from the field. The process invented by Talbot remains substantially 73 EDWARD ELSWORTH. 129 unchanged to the present day, although ‘innumerable improvements ’’ have been suggested, tried, abandoned and returned in new form to vex the photographer. AS a wet process, it is still used to a limited extent, and we must say of it that it has given us some of the most beautiful photographs which have ever been made, and asa method for making lantern transparencies is still unrivalled. For general purposes, it has always had great disadvantages. Great care has to be exercised in the cleaning and preparation of the plates. They must be used while still in a wet state, and must be developed as quickly as possible after exposure, and before the sur- face has time to dry. These drawbacks soon stimulated a great many efforts on both sides of the Atlantic to overcome them, and va- rious methods were employed by some to produce dry plates which would keep until wanted for use; while others devoted themselves to the development of pro- cesses for keeping the collodion plates moist. The only successful attempt in either direction which seems to have been made prior to 1866 was made by Dr. Hill Nor- ris, an Englishman, who, by a process which was kept secret, produced dry plates which had good keeping qualities, and were nearly as rapid in action as the wet plates generally used. Between 1866 and 1879, many improvements in making collodion dry plates were made, but the wet plate process held its own in the studio. Meanwhile, a host of chem- ists and photographers, both in Kurope and America, were striving to utilize some other substance than collo- dion as the basis of a photographic film, as most if not all the dry plates made had to be sensitized by immersion in a silver bath. Attention had already been called to gelatine by Le Gray, and most of the experiments were made with that substance. The result was the gelatine bromide dry 792 130 THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. plate, which is less than a dozen years old, but which has completely revolutionized the art of photography, and already made possible achievements which the earlier photographers could not have dreamed of. If you ask who discovered or invented it, I point to the long list of the names of those industrious investigators, from Le Gray to Dr. Maddox, who each contributed something ; some by failures,and many by successes, toward the grand result. It is safe to say that the gelatine bromide dry plate, almost universally used in making photo- graphic negatives to-day, is the result of no one man’s work. Having said something about other processes, I will now take a moment to explain what a gelatine dry plate of the present day is. As its name implies, it is a sensitized gelatine film. Gelatine had been suggested as a medium for the reten- tion of the salts of silver upon the surface of glass or paper by Le Gray in 1850, and had been used by many experimenters with varied success. Of these, M. Gau- din, a French photographer, seems to have first recognized the necessity for some sensitive mix- ture which could always be ready for use by pouring it upon plates, and using them at once, or drying them and preserving them for future use. He was one of those who directed his efforts toward the discovery of such a mixture as early as 1853, and continued his experiments until 1861, when he produced what was known as photogene, a sensitive mixture for coating plates, in which both collodion and gelatine were used in emulsion. The use of plates coated with this emulsion was, however, too uncertain in its results, and Gaudin retired from the field without having realized the accomplishment of his ideal. One difficulty with most of these early efforts appears to have been that collodion continued to be used in more F=te) EDWARD ELSWORTH. 131 or less quantity, and collodion, when dry, hardened into an impenetrable film, which the developing agent could not enter. About 1870, one Thomas Sutton, in an essay which years after was published in the British journal of pho- tography, gave the first clear, definite suggestion for an improvement of Gaudin’s emulsion, in which he proposed that collodion be discarded entirely, and gelatine only be used instead. His theory was that, by using a gelatine emulsion with bromide of silver, a structureless and ho- mogeneous film, exquisitely sensitive withal, would be formed. He concluded a minute exposition of his theory with these words: ‘‘ It may turn out that I have done well in digging up this old process of M. Alexis Gaudin, whose name be exalted as the anthor of collodion emulsions and photogenes.”’ Sutton died soon after, without having seen his theory put to test; but the seed he had sown fell into good ground. Karly in 1871, Dr. R. L. Maddox made a gela- tine bromide of silver emulsion, with which glass plates and paper were coated, but they were only fairly sensi- tive, and failed for reasons which are now well recog- nized. Dr. Maddox was obliged to give up his experi- ments on account of failing health, but others took up the subject. In 1873, a Mr. Kennett, an amateur, pat- ented a process for making a gelatine bromide of silver coating, which marked a great advance over any of the methods theretofore suggested by Gaudin, Sutton or Maddox. His method was to wash out of the emulsion all of the free salts left therein after the mixture. The omission to perceive the necessity of this was the cause of Maddox’s failure. Kennett’s plates were really the first satisfactory plates upon the market. In addition to their other good qualities, they were very much more sensitive than any which had previously been used. S1 1382 THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. Strangely enough, this very fact interfered materially with their general use. Up to this time, photographers had habitually manipulated their plates under an amount of illumination which would prohibit the art at the present day. It took some years and much contention to convince the photographic world that rapid plates, of which Kennett’s were the forerunner, could only be ma- nipulated in a chamber from which all of the actinic rays of light were rigorously excluded. In 1874, M. J. 8. Stas, a celebrated Belgian chemist, published in the columns of a Belgian periodical a con- tribution to the chemistry of photography which gave: the clue to the secret of the present system of emulsion making. Stas, however, was not a photographer, and it does not appear that his researches attracted the atten- tion of any who were working in the photographic field. His statement was, and he clearly pointed out, that bro- mide of silver can exist in at least six well-defined physi- cal states, each having properties peculiar to itself. These are: 1st. White flakes. 2d. Yellow flakes. 3d. Intense yellow powder. 4th. Pearly white powder. 5th. Yellowish white powder. 6th. Pure intense yellow crystalized state. He said : ‘‘ The granular bromide, either dull or shin- ing, and the pearly white modification of it resulting from the action of boiling water on the first two, are the most sensitive substances to light with which I am ac- quainted.”’ Here was the clue, viz.: the action of heat. No one seems to have acted on this suggestion until four years later, when a Mr. Bennett, another amateur photog- rapher, of London, exhibited a number of gelatine nega- tives before the South London Photographic Society in 1878. One of these was the interior of a room taken by ordinary gaslight after an hour’s exposure. Another represented a boat in motion—exposure one-twentieth of S82 EDWARD ELSWORTH. 1838 a second ; while others represented exposures between these two extremes. This exhibition was such a surprising revelation that Mr. Bennett was appealed to to give the secret of his process to the world. This he generously did, and the secret proved that he had profited by Stas’ researches, and that the essential point in the process was the appli- cation of heat to the emulsion. The Liverpool Dry Plate Company soon after put Bennett’s plates upon the market. Of course, Bennett’s success stimulated a vast amount of experimental research after some improvement of the process, the most important of which proved to be the boiling of the emulsion itself, by which the sensitiveness was more readily controlled, and the time consumed in the preparation greatly decreased. Substantially, the process of making dry plates is to- day the process which Bennett gave to the world just eleven years ago. While a great many manufacturers of commercial plates, both in Kurope and America, are each claiming some point of superiority, either in sensi tiveness or ease of manipulation, the process of manu- facture is substantially as follows : Certain proportions of pure gelatine, some bromide, either of potassa or ammonium, and distilled water, are combined until the gelatine is well swollen, and then the vessel containing the mixture is placed in a bath of warm water until the ingredients are dissolved ; or, if preferred, the bromide is first dissolved, and then the gelatine added. Nitrate of silver, previously dissolved in water, is then added, together with a small quantity of nitric or acetic acid ; agitating the whole mass very vigorously during these operations. The mass is now placed in boiling water and kept there, with frequent stirring, from one-half of an hour to two hours, according to the sensi- tiveness required. The mixture is next transferred to a bath of ice water, in which it is allowed to remain until 8s 134 THE PROGRESS OF PHOTOGRAPHY. the mass has assumed a jelly form, when it is squeezed through a coarse canvas, to thoroughly divide up the to- tal bulk into small shreds, which are thoroughly washed, either in running water or in many changes of water, until all of the free nitrate of silver not converted into bromide is washed out. Then the emulsion is carefu!ly remelted, a small quantity of freshly-dissolved gelatine is added, the whole is filtered, and it is ready to be spread upon the paper or glass which is selected to sup- port the negative. These operations must all be conducted in a room very feebly illuminated by ruby light only, and of course the finished plate must never be exposed to the actinic rays of light until it is exposed in a camera. Itis needless to say that the perfection of the dry plate has completely revolutionized photography. It has popularized it, and not only converted it into a valuable adjunct to art, but it has enhanced its commercial value a hundred thousand fold. Moreover, it has opened the door for a most fas- cinating amusement. A great army of amateurs, already numbering many thousands, and yearly increasing, are tasting the sweets of out-of-door life with an object in view. Men and women, girls and boys, are taken into the fields, the woodland, and along the winding streams, and impelled to observe and study,the beauties of nature. This is doing much to build up and sustain an esthetic side to an age which is inclined to be selfish and prosaic. For a more extended review of the history of photog- raphy, I refer all interested to the very complete work on that subject by W. Jerome Harrison. I wish that time permitted some allusions to the subjects of lenses and printing methods, but these must be reserved for another occasion. At the conclusion of the address, the subject was dis- cussed by the members present. 8S TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. 135 APRIL 23, 1889—SEVENTY-FOURTH REGULAR MEETING. Charles B. Warring, Ph.D., chairman, presiding ; twelve members and several guests present. The chairman, Dr. Warring, read the following paper : A CURIOUS GYROSCOPIC PHENOMENON—ITS RATIONALE—AN APPARENT LOSS OF ENERGY, AND AN EFFORT TO SHOW WHAT BECOMES OF IT. If a rapidly revolving gyroscope be held in one’s hand, and an attempt be made to turn it quickly from its posi- tion to another perpendicular to the first, a strong re- sistance will be experienced. And this resistance will be proportioned to the abruptness of the change of position. The phenomenon is a very curious one, and never fails to excite surprise. To study this effect, I devised and had constructed the apparatus before you. (See Fig. 1.) qm iin pt TN i p . | Al SH | | It consists of an ordinary gyroscope, mounted ina very stiff iron frame, which is securely bolted to the table. The axis of the gyroscope is horizontal, and supported in the usual manner in a ring, which is itself supported by two pins, whose axes and the centre of the wheel, or disc, are in a vertical straight line. The disc revolves 85 136 A CURIOUS GYROSCOPIC PHENOMENON. freely in the ring, and the ring revolves very freely on the two pins. Hence, if the disc be set in rapid motion on its axle, and the ring be made to revolve on the pins, we have the gyroscope continuously passing from one plane to another, and we should expect continuous re- sistance. i | On the lower pin isa sort of clutch-wheel, or pulley, which, ty help of a lever (not shown in the diagram), can be dropped or raised almost instantly, and so breaks, or makes, connection with the large driving wheel. First Experiment—I give the disc a high speed in the usual way—by help of a strong string wound on its axle —and time it. I find that friction brings it to rest in, say, five minutes. Second Experiment—I now let the disc alone. It has ceased to revolve on its horizontal axis. I raise the clutch-wheel as shown in the diagram, and turn the large wheel, and so make the gyroscope revolve very rapidly on the vertical axis. Then I let the clutch drop so as to be out of connection with the ring. The apparatus goes on from its momentum fora very considerable time. The motion is smooth and quiet, until the friction and air bring it to rest. The rotation around the vertical axis did not set the disc to revolve on the horizontal. Ap- parently it had no effect whateverin that sense. This is what we should expect from the well-known law that forces at right angles to each other neither increase nor diminish the effect of either. Third Experiment—I now raise the clutch, as in the diagram, and set the disc in very rapid motion on its own axis, and at the same moment attempt to turn the driv- ing wheel, but experience great resistance. While the resistance is still strong—say in fifteen or twenty seconds —I release the clutch-wheel, and almost instantly the horizontal rotation ceases. The disc, however, is still re- volving with no apparent decrease of speed. In the pre- se CHARLES B. WARRING, 137 _vious experiment—when I did not set the disc to revolv- ing—the horizontal rotation continued for a considerable time after the clutch was released. Butnow the machine acts as if it had no momentum, or it would be better to say, that it behaves as if the air had suddenly become highly viscid. Fourth Experiment—We have again the two rotations in planes perpendicular to each other, and both rotations _very rapid. In experiment 3, the ring was connected with the driving-wheel only a few seconds, and then re- leased ; now the connection is kept up, and I continue to turn the driving-wheel as rapidly as I can against the resistance which the gyroscope offers. This is very decidedly felt, and throws the instrument and the table on which it stands into a violent tremor, rattling what- ever happens tobe on it. After a little—from twenty to sixty seconds—the resistance seems exhausted, the tremor and rattle cease. No effort is now necessary to keep up the rapid horizontal rotation. I stop the apparatus as quickly as possible, and find that the disc has come to rest. It ought to have run several minutes longer. These results give rise to three questions: 1. What causes the strong resistance ? 2. What causes the disc to come to rest so much sooner in experiment 4 than in experiment 1 ? 3. What becomes of the large amount of energy ex- pended in overcoming the resistance when the two rota- tions are going on simultaneously ? | As to the first question—the strong resistance. Sup- pose the instrument in operation, and the movements to be indicated by the arrows in Fig. 1, and very rapid— twenty revolutions or more in a second. Fasten your mental vision upon a molecule, m, at the lowest point in the disc, and in the line of the vertical axis. At that in- stant it will be absolutely at rest in reference to the hori- zontal rotation. 87 1388 A CURIOUS GYROSCOPIC PHENOMENON. In the one-eightieth part of a second it will be carried up 90° to m’,* to the horizontal plane passing through the axle of the disc. Its horizontal velocity at m’ will be— suppose its radial distance to be two and a half inches— about twenty-five feet a second. This speed is not, at first sight, anything remarkable, but it has been attained in one- eightieth of a second. Gravity—7. e., a body’s weight—would impart a speed of only two-fifths of a foot in the same time. Hence the acceleration here is Fig.l iit omtmiad - *) A sixty-two and a half times that of gravity, according to the well-known law, that the accelerating force is pro- portional to the velocity imparted in equal times. The effect increases as the product of the number of revolutions in the two planes. Could we make them sixty and sixty, instead of twenty and twenty, the results would be nine times as great. It is fortunate that the time this acceleration acts, is so short that the actual velocity attained in our disc is only twenty-five feet in a second, for if it had been permitted to act for a whole second, its speed would be two thou- sand feet, or nearly twice that of a cannon ball—suffi- cient to destroy the instrument. * Unfortunately, the ‘and " on the middle and the upper m, Fig. 1, are too indistinct. The reader will please mark them with a pen. 8s CHARLES B. WARRING. 139 It is no wonder that, when conical bearings (shown in Fig. 2) were used, the pressure upon them forced the ring back so far that the disc was very Fig.2 apt to fly out of its place—in fact, with I conical bearings, very little acute (say 60°), and with very high speed, this always occurred. ‘The bearings at first were all of this shape. I found it necessary to change them, and to make them cylinders. After that the disc never flew out. In this we have answer to the first question. The re- sistance comes from the inertia of the successive mole- cules passing from zero velocity at bot om and top of the disc to maximum velocity as they come to the horizontal plane passing through the horizontal axis. As to the second question : Why does the disc come to rest more quickly when the ring is in rapid motion ? It is simply a case of increased friction, produced thus: Fasten your mind on a molecule at m’. It is moving to the right. Its other motion (that in the vertical plane) being at right angles, neither hastens nor retards it, consequently m’ endeavors, all the time it is going to the top (m”), to tilt that quadrant toward the right, a ten- tency which results in a pressure or push upon the pin A. The same thing occurs in the opposite quadrant. In the other two quadrants, as the parts pass from zero ve- locity to the maximum, there is a downward pull on A and an upward one on B, so that really all four quad- rants act in the same sense, and pressure always increases friction. The effect of such increase is seen when I tighten slightly the pins A and B. The time of rotation falls from six minutes to much less than one, and this when the horizontal motion is not going on. Lastly : What becomes of the additional energy ex- pended to make the ring revolve, when the disc is also revolving % so 140. A CURIOUS GYROSCOPIC PHENOMENON. Bear in mind that there are two distinct energies ; that given to the disc by pulling thestring wound around its axle, and that coming through the belt from the driving- wheel. The former is disposed of partly by the friction of the air, and yet more by the friction at A and JB, where it passes into heat. The energy from the driving-wheel may be divided into two parts, the ordinary and the extra-ordinary. The or- dinary energy is that needed to overcome the resistance of the air and the friction at the various bearings, and by the belt. This is easily disposed of. It setsup mole cular action and changes into heat. This leaves only the additional energy which must be expended to make the ring revolve when the disc is in. motion, and which is not needed the moment the disc comes to rest. A part of this—only a small part—is used in causing an increase of friction on the two vertical pins, for the same tilting tendency that causes pressure at A and B produces a tendency in the ring itself to re- volve in its own plane, and hence produces a pressure on one side of each of the two vertical pins. But this ab- sorption of the energy is a matter of accident, as it were. There would be the same increase of horizontal motion from zero to maximum, and the same giving up of mo- tion from maximum to rest as before, for the friction on the bearings has no influence on that. And the amount of energy necessary to increase the movement of even a small fraction of a quadrant—or rather of two quadrants, for the process goes on in two opposite ones at once— from zero to twenty-five feet in one-eightieth of a second, 7. é€., from 0 to 2,000 feet in a second, is certainly very con- siderable. If we might imagine energy to be something visible, we should see it taken up continuously in little buckets, as it were, as they pass from m (Fig. 1) to m’, and poured out as they pass on from m’ tom”. What. becomes of the energy poured out? One result is very: 90 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. — 141 evident with my machine. It is put ina violent tremor, and the table, as well as all that is on it, in violent agita- tion. I have not yet been able to hold it firm enough to pre- vent this effect, but I have no doubt that the machine might be bolted so securely as to prevent all visible tremor. If this can be done, and the rotation of the disc kept up by an electric magnet, I can see but one escape for the energy, that is in some form of molecular action, ‘probably heat. I will hazard the conjecture that a disc compelled to perform both rotations simultaneously will, after a time, show an increase of temperature. At the conclusion of the paper, the chairman made the regular annual report of the work of the Section during the year and the Section elected the following: Chairman, : : j Mr. Epwarp ELSwortH. Secretary, . ’ : Mr. JAMES WINNE. Curator, . ; , : W. G. Srevenson, M. D. Librarian, : j : Mr. FreEp. 8. ARNOLD. NOVEMBER 19, 1889—SEVENTY-FIFTH REGULAR MEETING.., Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding ; eleven mem- bers and several guests present. - The chairman of the section, Mr. Edward Elsworth, presented the subject of Food Adulterations, and spoke of the importance of the subject to society. He criti- cised the extravagance of the Legislature and of local boards in matters of comparatively lesser interest and compared it with the small appropriation made by the State of New York in support of the State Board of Health. | One of the purposes of this society should be to aid local boards in establishing sanitary appliances, securing | a good and healthful water supply, including proper sys- - OFfL 142 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. tems of sewage, and the prevention of the sale of adult- erated articles of food. The excuses for adulteration are competition in trade, and a demand for cheap goods, hence we find that the principal articles of food which are adulterated are those which enter most largely into domestic consumption, Viz : tea, coffee, milk, canned goods, sugar, wine, beer, flour, confectionery, butter, cheese, and spices. To illustrate the extent to which such adulteration is carried, the record of examinations made in the city of New York in the year 1882, 52¢ of the butter examined showed adulteration; 56% of olive oil, 62¢ of spices and 90% of coffee; while of flour, only 6% exhibited any traces of adulteration. This somewhat alarming exhibit is modified by the fact that most of the adulterations are not positively injurious, but are produced by the admixture of some cheaper sub- stance, to increase weight or bulk. For instance, olive oil is adulterated by the addition of cotton seed oil— butter by oleomargarine—cheese by lard or cottonseed oil—coffee by chicory, peas, rye, corn and some coloring matter. The danger in using canned goods, lies in the possibility of metallic poisoning, resulting from careless and im- perfect methods of canning. A very considerable part of the time occupied by the chairman was devoted to a description of the growth and curing of tea, aided by illustrations upon the blackboard. The structure and shape of the genuine tea leaf were explained, and the various methods of adulteration and ‘‘fixing’’ by the addition of dangerous substances to add strength and impart color and brilliancy were fully exposed. Dr. Warring nominated for membership in the Scientific Section, Mr. J. B. T. Tuthill. | 92 | TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. 143 DECEMBER 10, 1890—SEVENTY-SIXTH REGULAR MEETING. Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding. Mr. Gilbert Van Ingen delivered a very interesting ad- dress on the subject of ‘‘Ferns,’’ and submitted to the section the following list : Polypodium vulgare, L.—Woods ; growing on stony soil and over rocks: common. This species varies greatly. The most common form is that with the leaves broadest below the middle; pinne with few serrations and with obtuse to slightly acute tips ; and sharp sinuses. A second form with frond of an elongate-triangular outline and with elongate-acute pinne is sometimes found on wet shaded rocks. A third and rarer form is one in which the leaf is of a lan- ceolate outline ; 10 to 12 inches long ; two inches wide at middle from which point it tapers gently toward both ends ; and with pinne and sinuses rounded. Adiantum pedatum, L.—Rich stony soil: common in all the woods. This species has only one constant variety. In this va- riety the leaf forks at the summit of the petiole and re- mains simple. Pteris aquilina, L.—Very common in all open woods. Cheilanthes vestita, Swz.—Shaded rocks: not rare. This elsewhere rare fern is here rather common, grow- ing on all the cliffs along the shores of the Hudson River and in some places forming patches two and three feet in diameter with leaves six and eight inches long. Pellea atropurpurea, Link. Common on the limestone cliffs east of the city. It is occasionally found on the slate cliffs and then is much stunted in growth. Woodwardia Virginica, Smith.—Swamps : frequent. It has been rarely found in fruit. Asplenium ebenoides, Scott.—Limestone cliffs : very rare. 93 144 : FERNS. Found on limestone cliffs southeast of Poughkeepsie in 1882-3. Asplenium trichomanes, L.—Common on rocks and on rocky soil. : Asplenium viride, Huds.—Summit of Shawangunk Mts: rare. Asplenium ebeneum, Ait.—Common on rocky soil and on cliffs. Asplenium montanum, Wilid.—Quite abundant on the cliffs of the Shawangunk Mts. Asplenium ruta-muraria, L.—Rare: the only station being ‘‘Cedar Ridge”’ an outcrop of Calciferous sandstone three miles east of Poughkeepsie. Asplenium thelypteroides, Mzx.—Swamps: uncommon. Rather abundant in ‘‘ The Glen” at Vassar College. Asplenium jilix-foemina, Bernh.—Common in all the. woods. Asplenium Bradleyi, Haton.—Summits of the Shawan- ~ gunk Mts. : rare. Camptosorus rhizophylius, Link.—Not uncommon on outcrops of slate. ‘There have occasionally been found leaves with the auricles at the base greatly elongated. These elongated auricles have been observed to take root at their apices in the same manner as the midrib of the leaf. Phegopteris hexagonoptera, Feé.—Common in moist woods. Phegopteris polypodioides, Feé.—Swampy hillsides: rare. It has been found with P. hexagonoptera along the small stream that flows under ‘' Table Rock”’ cliff back of Chestnut Grove opposite Poughkeepsie. Phegopteris dryopteris, Feé.— There was formerly a patch of this fern in an orchard back of Lewisburg, opposite Poughkeepsie. It was destroyed by plowing a few years ago. | 94 GILBERT VAN INGEN. 145 Aspidium thelypteris, Swz.—Marshes—swampy woods : very common. Aspidium Noveboracense, Swz.—-Moist woods and swamps: common. | Aspidium spinulosum, Swz.—Frequent in rich woods. Aspidium spinulosum, var intermedium, Haton.—Com- mon in damp woods. Aspidium cristatum, Swz.—Common in swampy woods. Aspidium cristatum, var Clintonianum, Haton.—Fre- quent in swamps. Aspidium marginale, Swz.—Common in dry stony soil. Aspidium acrostichoides, Swz.—Common in dry woods. Aspidium acrostichoides, var incisum, Gray.—Fre- quent. Cystopteris bulbifera, Bernh.—In alluvial soil along Streams : common. Cystopteris fragilis, Bernh.—Shaded rocks : common. Woodsia obtusa, Torrey.—Common on cliffs along the Hudson River. Woodsia tlvensis, Rk. Br.—Common on exposed cliffs. Occasionally found in damp shady places with nearly glabrous leaves. Dicksonia pilosiuscula, Willd.—Along streams : common. Osmunda regalis, Z.—Swamps: common. An inconstant form is occasionally found in which the upper portion of the fertile part of the leaf is sterile. Osmunda Claytoniana, L.—Wetlow ground: common. Osmunda cinnamomea, L.—Wet low ground : common. Variety frondosa, Gray, is occasionally found. Onoclea struthiopteris, Hoffm.—Common in the alluvial soil along Wappingers Creek, where it fruits abund- antly. Onoclea sensibilis, I.—Fields: common. Variety obtusilobata, Torr. is frequent. Ophioglossum vulgatum, L.—Peat bogs: rare. Discovered September, 1888, in a peat bog near a small 95 146 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. house on the Smiley farm back of the Hudson River Driving Park. The next nearest locality is Pine Plains, Dutchess Co., N. Y. Botrychium ternatum, Swz.—Rare on dry shaded ground. Botrychium ternatum, var obliquum, Muhl.—Common in dry fields. Botrychium ternatum, var dissectum, Gray.—Common in dry fields. Botrychium Virginianum, Swz.—Common in damp woods. The total number of species and varieties listed is 43. Of this number, one Aspidium acrostichoides incisum is not constant. Oneother Phegopteris dryopteris has had its locality destroyed. Three, Aspleniwm montanum, A. Bradleyiand A. viridis are found only on the Shaw- angunk Mts., 15 miles west of Poughkeepsie. The re- maining 39 species and varieties are all found within a radius of three miles of Poughkeepsie. JANUARY 10, 1890—-SEVENTY-SEVENTH REGULAR MEETING. Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding ; seven mem- bers and thirty guests present. W. G. Stevenson, M.D., read a paper on ‘‘ The Imagi- nation.”’ JANUARY 28, 1890.—SEVENTY-EIGHTH REGULAR MEETING. Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding ; eleven mem- bers and about thirty guests present. _ The following paper was read by Charles B. Warring, Ph. D.: 96 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. 147 THE THEORY OF THE BICYCLE. We have all seen rope-walkers. Probably most of us have tried to walk on the top-rail of a fence, and havea vivid recollection of the incessant tossing of arms and legs to keep our balance, and how great assistance we got from a long stick, or even a stone held in our hands. But the bicyclist gets no help from stick or stone. His legs move only in the tread of the wheel, and his hands rest quietly on the ends of the cross-bar of his machine. Apparently there is entire repose, while the rope-walker keeps every muscle tense, and every limb in motion, or ready to move. No wonder when a tourist on his ’cycle spins for the first time, through a village here, or among the nomads of Asia, he is followed by wondering beholders till his machine carries him out of their sight. We involuntarily ask, how is it possible for one sup- ported on so narrow a base to keep his seat so securely, and apparently without effort ? For an answer to this question, I have searched some- what widely, and while I have found articles enough on, or about, the bicycle, I have found none that offers a reasonable explanation. This is my apology for present- ing the present paper, in which I shall state the theories which have been offered; the reasons why I consider them unsatisfactory, and then, give what I regard as the true rationale of the machine. The only formal paper I found, that claimed to explain _ the bicycle, was one by Mr. C. Vernon Boys, entitled ‘‘The Bicycle and its Theory.’’ It was delivered before a meeting of Mechanical Engineers, and is reported at great lengthin WVature, Vol. 29, page478. Here, thought I, is probably something valuable and convincing. But, 97 148 THE THEORY OF THE BICYCLE. on examination, I found that, of the several pages of closely-printed matter, the ‘‘theory ’’ occupied possibly a dozen lines, all the rest was about the bicycle, but not about its theory. In those dozen lines we are told that Mr. Boys ex- hibited a top in action, and requested his audience to notice its remarkable stability. Then he said that the stability of the bicycle was due to the same principles, but made no attempt to show any connection between them. The top revolves on its axis, and it stays up, as you see ; the wheel of the bicycle revolves on its axis, there- fore it stays up, was his theory and demonstration, and the whole of it, and so far as we can judge from the re- port, he was satisfied, however it may have been with his audience. | Of all machines, probably none is so little understood as the top, and its near relative, the gyroscope. Hence the best that can be said is, that the lecturer merely availed himself of that tendency, found in most minds, to explain an unfamiliar phenomenon by referring it to some other more familiar phenomenon, longer known, but equally incomprehensible. As if, as in grammar two negatives make an affirmative, so, in physics, two unknowns make a known. Without going into the theory of the top,—the gyro- scope, it is easy to show that their stability, and that of the bicycle must be due to different principles. I spin before you on the table a top with a somewhat blunt point. You notice that it runs around in a circular, or spiral path, and gradu- ally rises till it is perpendicular to the table. I strike it quite a hard blow, but do not up- set it. In fact it is hardly possible to strike it with force enough to upset it. I send it flying across the table, 98 a CHARLES B. WARRING. 149 or off to the floor, but still it maintains its upright position. You notice that it not only runs about in a spiral, but that it swings, or gyrates, around a vertical axis. If the point, instead of being somewhat blunt, is very fine and sharp, and well centred, the top will scarcely travel at all, but will swing around an almost stationary vertical axis. If the point—very fine and sharp, and well cen- tered, remember—happens to fall into a slight pit in the surface of the table, it will cease to travel, but will con- tinue for a very considerable time to gyrate around a vertical, and will be remarkably stable, no matter at what angle it leans. Hence, it follows that it is not the trav- elling of the top which keeps it up. You may stop that entirely with no sensible effect upon its staying up, but the in- stant—even in the case of one that leans ever so little—I prevent the rotation around a vertical, it falls. 1 vary the «"y" > experiment in every possible way, the result is the same ; the moment the swinging—or, gyration, as it is called— around a vertical ceases, the top falls. Certainly, in case of the bicycle, there is no swinging —-gyrating—around a vertical axis. Whatever else the machine may do, it does not do that. We may, I think, dismiss the top from further consid- eration ; but there is another instrument apparently much closer in its relationship to the bicycle. I have here a gyroscope with its wheel upright like that of a bicycle. (See Figs. 3 and 4.) The lower part of the ring rests in a kind of trough, to the bottom of which is at- tached crosswise a piece of metal (best seen in Fig. 8) curved on the lower edge, and with two projecting wires by which it may be drawn back and forth in the plane of the wheel. 99 150 THE THEORY OF THE BICYCLE. I will now set the wheel in rapid motion, much more rapid than any bicycle wheel cango. I place the instru- ment—its name in this particular form is gyrostat—I place it on a smooth, hard surface,—I have here a pane of glass,—and leave it to itself. At once it begins, as you see, to revolve around a ver- tical axis. If it leans little, it revolves slowly; if it leans much, it revolves faster. It retains its upright position, though I push it, or even strike it a violent blow. It resists with remarkable force. It fact it is scarcely possible to upset it even by the impact of a hammer, providing the blow be delivered on either S or T, and in a vertical plane. You may hang a weight of a pound or more on T or 8S, and although standing on only a knife-edge, the instrument will not fall over. The only effect, as you see, is to make it spin more rapidly around a line drawn perpendicular to the table at the point of contact. I now take it by the projecting wires, and attempt to make it move in a straight course, as a bicycle does when it spins along the road. Instantly it falls. The rotation of the wheel on its axis was not, in the slightest degree, interfered with; but the stability vanished the moment the rotation around the verticle axis ceased. Yet, you observe, the conditions are far more favorable to stability than in the bicycle, 7/ the latter’s stability is due to gy- 100 CHARLES B. WARRING. 151 rostatic action, for the mass of the rim of our gyrostat is many times heavier in proportion, and its speed incom- parably greater. I try it over and over, the result is al- ways the same. Noamount of skillful management will make the instrument stay erect for an instant if it must move in a straight line. I submit that this and the previous experiments are proof positive that the sustain- ing power of a bicycle does not come from the “‘ gyrostatic action of its wheel.”’ Others find the reason why the Bicycle does not fall, in ‘‘its going so fast,’’ referring of course, in a blind way to that principle embodied by Newton in his first law; ‘‘A body in motion, if left to itself, will continue in motion in a straight line’’ for ever. It is true the bicycle goes very fast, but does that avail anything in solving the problem of its stability ? Let us see. It is another principle in physics that two forces act- ing at right angles to each other, do not interfere. Each produces its own effect as fully as if the other did not exist. For example, if a certain force sends a body, D, D EG north at the rate of 24 feet in a second, and another force sends it east 24 feet in the same time, at the end of one second it will have gone 24 feet north, and 24 feet east, exactly as if each force had acted alone. Going towards A B, does not in the least hinder its going towards B LOL 152 THE THEORY OF THE BICYCLE. C. Now incase of a bicyclist, his forward motion is at right angles to gravity, hence does not in any way resist it, and therefore, as it is gravity that causes him to tilt over, the forward motion will not prevent his falling. But it may be said that the force of quality is in fact resolved into two components, one vertical, and the other horizontal, and that it is only the latter that causes the ’cyclist to fall. This does not affect our con- clusion, for both components are perpendicular to the ‘course of the bicycle, and hence its forward motion can in no way counteract either of them. Unless, therefore, some other force beside his forward movement comes into action, the ‘cyclist must fall to- wards which ever side he happens to begin to lean. Many think they find this in ‘‘Centrifugal Force.”? You are all familiar with the effects of this so called force. You feel them every time you turn a corner quickly, whether on foot, in a wagon or on horse back. The bare-back riders in the circus lean well towards the centre of the ring to escape being thrown outward. We see its effect when the ’cyclist spins around a corner. In this case ‘‘centrifugal force’’ plays an im- portant part and is the real upholding force. But centri- fugal force is impossible, so long as the body moves in one direction. Other things being equal, it is greater in proportion to the abruptness of the change, or as mathematicians say, the centrifugal force, so long as the velocity is uniform, varies inversely as the radius of the curve in which the body moves. If that is very large, the centrifugal force will be very small. If the radius of curvature becomes infinite, 7. e., if the curve becomes a straight line, the centrifugal force becomes infinitely small, or zero. So long, therefore, as the bicyclist does not turn any corners—keeps in a straight course—the ‘‘centrifugal force’’ gives no assistance, whatever, in 102 CHARLES B. WARRING. 153 understanding the secret of his keeping his seat so se- curely. But although this is true, this force may be thought sufficient, if supplemented by skillful balancing. The centrifugal force keeps the machine from falling when turning corners ; Will not good balancing account for its stability when moving in a straight line? Weare all fa- miliar with the phenomena of keeping one’s balance. We know the help a heavy pole gives at such times; how one’s arms and legs move with startling rapidity in the direction opposite to that in which he feels himself falling. Certainly there is none of this on the wheel. If the stability was due to balancing, it would not be difficult for the bicyclist to sit on his machine when not in motion, and with its wheels pointing both in the same direction. I have never seen one that could do it. I suspect, however, that it is not any more impossible than to stand on the top round of an unsupported ladder. But the ordinary ’cyclist cannot do it, and yet, without apparent effort, he rides securely. That his stability is not due to his balancing and to the rapid forward motion combined, is evident when we reflect that if the handles areimmovable, so that neither of the wheels can be turned to the right or left, it is impossible for any ordinary man to keep his machine from falling, unless he can change its course from a straight line to a curve, no matter at what speed he may move.* I think I am justified in saying that, of all the reasons thus far assigned for the stability of the bicycle, none is * At the close of the reading of this paper, a teacher of the art of riding the ’cycle, a man of large and varied experience, arose, and in the course of his remarks said that one of the chief difficulties he had to contend with in teaching beginners to ride was to induce them to give up all idea of balancing ; that tillthis was done they could not ride well—a striking corroboration of theoretical conclusions arrived at by the writer of the paper. LOS 154 THE THEORY OF THE BICYCLE. satisfactory. Gyration has absolutely nothing to do with it. Centrifugal force has no application, save in turning corners, or otherwise changing abruptly the di- rection of the movement. Balancingisofnouse. Rapid motion accounts for nothing. Some other explanation is needed. This I shall now attempt to give. It will aid us if we omit from an ideal bicycle all that is not essential to our purpose. I will therefore draw on the blackboard two skeleton diagrams of the bicycle, representing the lines of force in the ordinary kind, Fig 6. A a PB and in the ‘‘ Safety,”’ Fig.7 A re P B A is a point in the centre of the saddle; B is the point where the fore wheel touches the ground, and C where the other. A Band A C, therefore, represent the lines of force when the instrument is upright and at rest. The weight of the rider brings the centre of gravity of the whole instrument very near the saddle, 104 CHARLES B. WARRING. 155 It is evident that A cannot fall backward or forward, since a vertical from it falls between the points Cand B. In reference to these, A isin, what physicists call stable equilibrim, while in regard to side motion its equilibrim is very unstable. The least thing will upset it. For experimental purposes, I have hada skeleton made the same in form as the last diagram, but strong enough to be safely handled. The shorter leg is 5 feet long ; the other about 7 feet. The lead saddle weighs 6 pounds. It consists as you see of two long, slender pieces of pine, and looks like a huge capital A, the cross piece serving merely to hold the whole more firmly together. At the apex, or saddle A, I have placed a few pounds of lead to represent the rider. In the ordinary bicycles there is a large wheel in front, and a very small one behind, and the saddle well over the former. In these the forward leg A JB, fig 6, is much the steeper and shorter. In ‘‘Safety” ’cycles it is just the other way. At present we will consider only the former. For convenience in handling, and that it may be better seen, I place the foot C, the rear one of my skeleton frame, on the table, and hold the other, B, in my hand, and at the same height from the floor. Now notice. The weight tilts toward the east, I quickly move the lower end toward the east till it comes under the weight. If it tilts toward the west, I move my hand: 105 156 THE THEORY OF THE BICYCLE. quickly towards the west. In every case by moving my hand more rapidly than the weight tilts, I bring the point of support under it. It is very easy in this way to keep it from falling. But how can the rider move the point of support when it is on the ground, several feet out of his reach 2 He does it by turning the wheel to the right, or left, as may be necessary, that is by pulling the cross-bar to the right or left, and thus turning the forked spindle between whose arms the forward wheel is held and guided. But some one will ask, How does turning the wheel bring the point of support to the right or to the left— which ever way the machine may be tilting ? Let us suppose a ’cyclist mounted on his wheel and riding, say, towards the north. He finds himself begin- ning to tilt towards the right. He is not only going north with the machine, but he is going east. He turns the wheel eastward, the point of support at once begins to go eastwardly, and as it goes much faster than the machine tilts—at first—it quickly gets under him, and the wheel is again upright. To one standing at a dist- tance, in front or rear, the bottom of the wheel will be seen to move to the right or left, just as a few moments ago, I moved the foot of the frame which I exhibited. Here then we have the explanation sought. The sta- bility of the Bicycle is due to changing the direction of the wheel to the right or left, which ever way the leaning is, and thus keeping the point where it rests on the ground, under the rider. It may be questioned whether the bottom point of the wheel really travels faster than the weight at the saddle tilts over, and, if it does not travel faster, the explana- tion which I have been giving fails. This can readily be answerel. By an easy calculation based on the principle ‘well known in physics, that the velocity of a body moving LOG CHARLES B. WARRING. 157 under the influence of gravity varies as the square root of the height from which it has fallen, irrespective of the character of the path it has described, I find that in case the rider’s seat is, for example, 60 inches from the ground, and the machine has inclined 6 inches from the perpendicular, it is at that instant, if free to fall, moving laterally at the rate of only 14 feet a second, or 4,500 feet an nour—much less than a mile. But six inches isa large amount, a good rider does not tilt that much; we will suppose him out only 3 inches, then his lateral movement will be at the rate of only some 2,200 feet in an hour. If the tilt is less, the falling rate will be less. To keep the centre of gravity over the base, the bottom of the wheel needs only to move to the right or left— which ever way the machine is leaning—somewhat faster than these slow rates. There is no great difficulty in doing this, for if the bi- cycle is going 8 miles an hour it is necessary to change 1ts course only about 7 degrees; if 4 miles, then only about 14 degrees ; if 2 miles, then about 28 degrees. The angle grows smaller as the speed grows greater; at 16 miles an hour, the wheel would need to be turned thro an angle of less than two degrees. From which follows the fact well known to ’cyclists, that the slower the ma- chine is traveling the more the handles must be turned, and the more difficult to keep from falling. From the fact that the bicycle keeps up by keeping its supporting point under it, like a pole standing verti- cally on one’s finger, some curious, and to most people, quite unexpected results follow. The higher the machine, the less the danger of falling sideways ; and, as the load is in the saddle, it is the height of the saddle and not the size of the wheel, that affects the lateral stability. Everybody knows that it is easier to support a long pole than a short one. I have here three rods, respectively one foot, three feet, and seven feet long. I balance the 107 158 THE THEORY OF THE BICYCLE. last very easily, the second, not so easily, and the first, only with considerable difficulty. The heavier the load on a bicycle, other things being equal, the more easy to keep it from falling to either side. ‘Therefore when a rider carriesa load on his shoul- ders, the weight really helps him to keep his wee position. I have a cap of lead weighing four or five pannel which I slip on the top of each of these rods, in succes- sion. In every case, the stability is increased, but most so upon the longest rod. Experts in their exhibitions, sometimes put both legs over the handle-bar, and ride with safety. But there is nothing remarkable in this, for their legs, placed on the bar, raise the centre of gravity, and hence add to the stability. It is only necessary that, in some way they should be able to turn the bar, and they can ride until the momentum is exhausted. A much more difficult feat is to ride on one wheel. The small wheel—the rider holding the other in the air—is most easily managed. It is merely a case of supporting on a small base some long, upright body. One keeps moving the point of support soas to Keep it under the centre of gravity. It needs only a quick eye and a steady hand. Itismuch more difficult when the ’cyclist uses only the big wheel, the other having been removed, for he is liable to fall forward, or backward, or to either side. To avoid the first and second, he leans forward a little beyond his base, and would pitch headlong, but that he drives the wheel forward by the treadles just fast enough to prevent it. We all do the same thing when we walk. Welean so far forward that we would fall, did we not keep moving our feet fast enough to prevent it. On the single wheel, most of us would fail, because, from lack of experience, we would make the wheel go too fast, and so would fall backward ; or else, not fast 108 CHARLES B. WARRING. 159 enough to keep from falling on our faces. As to fall- ing sideways, that is prevented exactly as when both wheels are used, the ’cyclist turns the cross-bar to right or left. Experience, a level head, and a steady hand tell him how far to turn it. From what has been shown, we may conclude that the danger of a header increases as the height of the saddle grows greater ; and decreases as the saddle is put further back. The danger of tilting over sidewise grows less as the height of the saddle is increased. But besides this, another element of the problem comes into action. I refer to the relative ease of managing the different kinds of ’cycles. Ability to keep from falling to either side, depends upon the rider’s ability to keep B (the front wheel) Fig. 6, or 7, in the vertical plane passing through C and A, or, in other words, to make B move promptly to right or left as the machine happens to lean. If A were directly over B, then if A leaned three inches it would be neces- sary to move B only three inches. If A be moved back until it is half way between Cand B, (C, so far as lateral movement is concerned, is always at rest) then to bring B into the vertical plane passing through Cand A, it must be moved six inches to the leaning side. If from C to B is four feet, and A is only one foot forward of C, then B must move twelve inches to correct the same in- clination as before. If A is moved back until it is just over C, then the number of inches necessary to bring B into the vertical plane, would be infinite, which is only the mathematical way of saying that it would then be im- possible by moving B, to keep the machine from falling over. Calling the distance C P, a, and P B, 6, we have the a lateral stability = Gale If we let 6 be a constant quan- 109 160 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. tity, and a, a variable one, we can increase the lateral stability by increasing a, or in other words by putting ( further back, leaving the rest of the machine asit is. If a=1 foot and 6=24 feet, then lateral stability =—n,=t 2 If we make a=23 feet, then lateral stability=y7 Fy es 2 2 consequently the two stabilities are to each other as 1 to 17, which means, being interpreted, that of two bicycles of equal height one measuring from center of wheel to center of wheel 34 feet and the other 5 feet, and the sad- dle in each 23 feet behind center of fore wheel, the lateral stability of the latter will be 1? times that of the other. If from seat to rear wheel center be 5 feet, and to front center 23, then the stability will be 2.8 times greater than the first. The gain would hardly be worth the in- crease of expense and awkwardness in so long a machine. FEBRUARY 18, 1890—SEVENTY-NINTH REGULAR MEETING. Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding ; ten members and thirty guests present. The following question was reviewed historically, and the present view of science presented: ‘‘ Hlecricity. What is It?’ by Le Roy C. Cooley, Ph.D. MARCH 1, 1890—EKIGHTIETH REGULAR MEETING. Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding. In the absence of the secretary, Mr. Fred. 8. Arnold was chosen secretary pro tem. The meeting was of a social and informal character, no paper being presented. W.G. Stevenson, M.D., nominated Mr. Silas Wodell for membership of the section, and Prof. L. C. Cooley nominated Dr, Theodor Neumann. | LLO TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. 161 MARCH 25, 1890—EIGHTY-FIRST REGULAR MEETING. Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding ; eight mem- bers and ten guests present. In the absence of the secretary, Mr. Fred. 8. Arnold was chosen secretary pro tem. The curator reported the gift of a collection of land shells by Miss Anna Goodsell. Mr. Gilbert Van Ingen gave a comprehensive address on the subject of ‘‘ The Land Snails of Poughkeepsie,” and submitted to the Section the following : A PRELIMINARY LIST OF THE LAND SNAILS OF POUGHKEEPSIE, N. Y. The following list contains the names of all species of land snails which have been detected in the immediate vicinity of Poughkeepsie, N. Y. It is hoped that in the near future we will be able to present a paper on the distribution of snails in Dutchess: and adjacent counties. GEOPHILA ELASMOGNATHA. Fam: Limacide. Gen: Limax. Limazx maximus, Linn.—Common in cellars and occa- sionally in hot houses. Limaz flavus, Linn.—Hothouses ; common. Limaz agrestis, Mill.—Hothouses ; infrequent. Limaz campestris, Binn.—Fields and gardens ; common. Fam. Zonitide. Gen: Zonites. Zonites fuliginosus, Griff.—tn rich woods under leaf mould; not common. Glen at Vassar College ; hills about Highland, Ulster County. bobs, 162 LAND SNAILS OF POUGHKEEPSIE. Zonites cellarius, Mull.—Very abundant in hothouses. | Zonites alliarius, Mull.—Hothouses ; frequent. This species is interesting on account of the strong garlic odor disseminated by the animal when it is dis- turbed. Zonites nitidus, Mull.—Under logs, low ground ; com- mon. Zonites arboreus, Say.—Under logs, loose bark and stones in moist places ; common. Zonites radiatulus, Alder.—Under logs on low ground ; common. _ Zonites indentatus, Say.—In stony soil; common. Zonites minusculus, Binn.—In stony soil ; not common. Bech’s woods; James’ woods; Glen at Vassar College. Zonites fulvus, Drap.—In leaf mould; infrequent. James’ woods; Glen at Vassar College; Bech’s woods. Zonites internus, Say. Three dead mature shells and one live young shell of this species were found in April, 1890, under leaves on hillside above the ferry landing at Highland, Ulster Co. Zonites multidentatus, Binn.—Stony soil and leaf mould on hillsides—Cliffs at Sunfish Cove; Bech’s Woods. Family Philomycide. Gen. Tebennophorus. Tebennophorus carolinensis, Bosc.—Dead logs and leaf mould; rare. James’ Woods; hills back of High- land Station, Ulster Co. Fam. Helicide. Gen. Arion. Arion Fuscus, Mull.—A few specimens found in a hot- house. Gen. Patula. Patula alternata, Say.—Under bark, rotten wes and stones : common. 112 GILBERT VAN INGEN. 163 Patula striatella, Anthony.— Under bark, rotten logs and leaf mould in cold, wet places: not common. Glen at Vassar College. Patula Asteriscus, Morse.—In leaf mould in cold Swamps: rare. Three specimens have been found in ‘‘ The Glen”’ at Vassar College. Gen. Helicodiscus. Helicodiscus lineatus, Say.—Stony soil: common. Gen. Punctum. Punctum pygmaeum minutissimum, Lea.—Stony soil: not common. James’ Woods; Glen at Vassar Col- lege; Bech’s Woods. Gen. Mesodon. Mesodon thyroides, Say.—Rich, shady woods: common. Very abundant about Winslow’s marl pond, three- quarters ofa mile south of the Asylum. M. thyroides bucculenta, Gld.—Leaf mould: not com- mon. Glen at Vassar College. M. albolabris, Say.—Hillsides: common. Prefers stony soil. Gen. Stenotrema. Stenotrema hirsutum, Say.—Under stones and in leaf mould : common. Stenotrema monodon, Rack.—-Under logs and stones : not common. Stenotrema monodon, fraterna Say.—Under logs and stones: not common. Gen. Triodopsis. Triodopsis tridentata, Suy.—Under stones in rich woods: common. Gen. Vallonia. Vallonia puilchella, Mill.—Under stones, logs and boards ; in places very abundant. 1138 164. LAND SNAILS OF POUGHKEEPSIE. Gen. Strobila. Strobila labyrinthica, Say.—In leaf mould and stony soil; not common; Bech’s woods, James’ woods, Glen at Vassar College. Fam. Pupide. Gen. Pupa. Pupa fallax, Say.—Common on the cliffs along the Hud- son River. Pupa corticaria, Say.—On bark and in moss and grass on cliffs ; common. Pupa rupicola, Say.—In tufts of grass on cliffs ; rare. Cedar Ridge; cliffs at Sunfish Cove. Pupa armifera, Say.—In grass on cliffs and on rotten logs ; common. Pupa contracta, Say.—Under loose bark and in grass tufts on cliffs ; common. Pupa edentula simplex, Gould.—In leaf mould in cold swamps; rare. Glen at Vassar College. Gen. Vertigo. Vertigo ovata, Say.—Under loose bark and logs; not common. Low ground near the Hudson River Driv- ing Park. Vertigo bollesiana, Morse.—Leaf mould and loose bark ; not common. Glen at Vassar College. Fam. Stenogyride. Gen. Ferussacia. Ferussacia subcylindrica, Linn.—Under leaf mould in low ground; not common. Glen at Vassar College ; Bech’s woods. : Hamily Succinide. Gen. Succinea. Succinea avara, Say.—In grass on cliffs and hillsides ; also in cold swamps;common. Cliffs along Hudson River; Glen at Vassar College. 114 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SEOTION, 165 Succinea obliqua, Say.—Cold swamps and marshes ; common. Bech’s woods ; Glen at Vassar College. Succinea ovalis, Gould.—Marshy places; common. Bech’s woods ; marshes along Hudson River. APRIL 8, 1890.—EIGHTY-SECOND REGULAR MEETING. Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding ; eight mem- bers and thirteen guests present. The following address was given, accompanied by ex- periments in demonstration : SIR WILLIAM THOMSON AND HIS ‘‘ GYROSTATIC BALANCE,” AND THE RELATION OF NUTATION TO PRECESSION, BY CHARLES B. WARRING, Ph.D. In an address before the Mathematical and Physical Section of the British Association, at Montreal, Sir William Thomson described what he called a Gyrostatic Spring Balance, illustrating his description by a drawing of the instrument. His object was to aid in ‘steps towards a kinetic theory of matter.”’ He says ‘‘it is scarcely possible to help anticipating, in idea, the arrival at a complete theory of matter in which all its properties will be seen to be merely attri- butes of motion.’? He adds, ‘‘The kinetic theory of gases stops absolutely short at the atom or molecule, and gives not even a suggestion towards explaining the properties in virtue of which the atoms, or molecules, mutually influence one another.”’ _ After pointing out what he stylesa ‘‘ fatal fault”’ in the kinetic theory of gases, he says, ‘‘ Even if this fatal fault did not exist, there would exist beyond it a grander theory,—to explain the elasticity of solids.”’ And it was to aid in this that he devised the Gyrostatic Balance. He then describes the instrument by help of 115 ~~ 166 GYROSTATIC BALANCE. the ‘‘ Scientific imagination,” and tells what it will, and what it will not do. To the kinetic theory of gases, I had given but little attention, and still less to that of solids, but I had given a good deal to the laws of gyrating bodies. When I read that part of Sir William Thomson’s address, it appeared so to conflict with results to which my studies had led me, that I determined to put his predictions to the test of trial. The diagram on the blackboard (Fig. 1) is copied from his drawing given in ‘‘Science,”’ Vol. IV, page 205, where is also found all that I shall quote from his address. The ‘‘ Balance”’ consists, as you see, of four ‘‘ Gyrostats,”’ jointed at the four corners of the square, and enclosed in, a metallic sheil for the sake of hiding the interior. At the upper and lower corners are hooks, the upper one to support the apparatus, and the lower to support a weight. ‘The index and scale are to enable the experi- menter to measure any rise or fall of the weight. 116 CHARLES B. WARRING. 167 _ The joints are as nearly frictionless as possible. The directions of the rotation of the fly-wheels are indicated by directional ellipses. Please to bear in mind that Sir William says, ‘‘ The gyrostatic system might have been constituted of two gyrostatic members, but four are shown for the sake of symmetry.’’. In other words, he declares that the effect would be exactly the same were either the right, or left hand pair omitted. This is fortu- nate, forin making such an instrument, the other two not only double the expense, but add very much to the difficulty of manipulation. I shall therefore content my- self with one pair of wheels. Before going further permit me to say a few words as to what a Gyrostat is, and how it differs from a Gyro- scope. Sir William Thomson invented and named the former. Fig. 2, represents a section of it. (The original drawing is shown in Nature, Vol. XV, page 297.) It is an ordinary gyroscopic wheel and axle enclosed in a sort of jacket or case, instead of being supported ina ring. The case answers all the purposes of the ring, but, be- sides, it permits a sort of circular knife edge to pass around the case in the plane of the wheel’sequator. The alalizg 168 GYROSTATIC BALANCE. instrument stands on this knife-edge on a plate of glass or other hard and smooth plane. It is evident that the sole characteristic difference be- tween this and the gyroscope, is that in the former the point of support is under the centre of the wheel and in the equatorial plane, while in the latter, it is in the line of the axis produced. The so-called gyrostats in Sir W. Thomson’s balance are supported at points in the axis, and therefore are gyroscopes. ‘To make them in the form of gyrostats, 7. e., with jackets about them, would in- volve very considerable additional expense with no cor- responding advantages. Tor this reason I have used in my apparatus the ordinary form, 7. é., a wheel supported in a ring. As you see, the wheels in Sir W. Thomson’s diagram (Fig. 1) all rotate in the same direction, 7. e., if a watch be placed at right angles to each axis, and at the end farthest from the upper hook, and with its back towards it, the rotation of each wheel is opposite to that of the hands. This being so, Sir W. Thomson declares ; 1st. ‘‘That the system as a whole will have no moment of momentum ; in other words there will be no rotation around a vertical axis.” 2d. ‘‘ That in this condition of no rotation around a vertical axis, the index will, at first, oscillate up and down, until stopped by friction, and, but for the friction, it would, he says, vibrate forever.’’ 3d. ‘‘ If we check the vibration by hand, the weight will hang down at rest, the pin drawn out to a certain degree ; and the distance drawn out will be simply pro- portional to the weight pune on the lower hook, as in ordinary spring balances.’’ | Now I propose to show you by actual trial that the system, as a whole, will have moment of momentum, and that there will be rotation around a vertical axis; 118 CHARLES B. WARRING. 169 — ‘‘that the distance drawn out will not be simply propor- tional to the weight hung on the lower hook, as in ordi- nary spring balances,”’ that, in fact, the weight will not hang down at all, but that the lower gyroscope will rise until its axis points vertically upward. These are radically different results, and show that either nature, or Sir William Thomson, hasa wrong con- ception of the action of this instrument. My apparatus is on the table. It has as you see, only two gyroscopes, (Fig. 3) while his diagram has four, but ~ you will recall his remark, *‘ Only one set is needed, the other being merely for symmetry.”’ I had one with four wheels, but this one is much more easily manipulated. At the top of the shaft (Fig. 3) is a saucer shaped de- Fig. 3 HUUUUCUENUUOUUOUECOGOQOUUAOGEOUUNOONUOUOQOUUCTOEUOQUOGOTEEAUOEENGOOUOEOEUOOOOEGUOUU EEE AU AA pression in which rests the conical point of an adjustable screw ; both the point and the depression are of very hard and highly polished steel. The two gyroscopes are connected by a stiff piece of . sheet brass with almost frictionless hinges at each end. By this arrangement there is great freedom of movement in the vertical plane passing thro’ both axles. On each gyroscope is a rod in the prolongation of itsaxis. These 119 170 GYROSTATIC BALANCE. give facility in handling the instruments, and, when de- sirable, movable weights can be attached to counter- balance, to any extent, the wheels. You have noticed, probably, that the rod on the lower gyroscope is bent out of line of the axle. This was done to permit the wheel to fall lower than it otherwise could. - I now wind a string on each axle in such a way that the direction of the resulting rotation is the same as in Sir William’s diagram, and set both going. I will then place the instrument on the upright shaft, and leave it to itself. If his prediction is right there will be no rotation around the upright. You see there is rotation. He says the lower end should fall, to a certain point, and there remain at rest. You see it rises till its axis points to the zenith. (Fig. 4.) | Fig. 4 MMMM MM OO I will repeat the experiment. You see the results are the same. I now wind the strings so that the wheels revolve in opposite directions, and place it in position as before. The lower gyroscope instantly drops toits lowest possi- ° ble place, I raise it, but it at once goes back. At first it would seem as if there should be no moment of momentum. In fact while the lower gyroscope is 120 CHARLES B. WARRING. 171 anywhere near the horizontal there is only the excess of influence of one of the gyroscopes over the other, but when it hangs down nearly vertical, it has no resisting power, and produces only the effect of so much weight hung on the other. I now set both in motion, the wheels rotating in opposite directions, the lower one drops down as you see, and the whole rotates somewhat rapidly around the shaft. I now stop the rotation of the lower wheel, the system revolves almost exactly as before. It may possibly be thought that the statement in the ~ Montreal address as to the direction of the wheels was a slip of the pen. But under it all and woven into it, is the belief that the peculiar sustaining power of a gyro- scope is independent of the horizontal movement. It is impossible for one who thinks so, to have a knowledge of the ‘‘ true inwardness”’ of gyrating bodies. For all sustaining power is absolutely gone the moment the horizontal movement ceases, and conversely the mo- ment the nutation ceases, the precessional movement ends. By nutation I mean, of course, the falling or rising of the free end of the instrument, and by the pre- cession, I mean the lateral movement. As these statements are of great importance, I shall now prove their truth by experiment. And, first, that the sustaining power ceases when the horizontal movement ceases, or, to use Sir William Thom- son’s words, when there is ‘‘no moment of momentum.”’ I set my instrument in motion. At one end is a pin projecting a short distance. I attach to a fixed standard a string which when horizontal is at the same height from the table as the gyroscope. As the instrument swings around, I catch the string on the pin. The instant it is . drawn taut, the wheel drops. The so called gyroscopic power sustaining it, is gone. In each of these, and in the previous experiments, the string was at right angles to the motion, and, conse- Wai eisl, 172 TRANSACTIONS OF SCIENTIFIC SECTION. quently, could have no effect in producing either of the Stoppages. To prove that when nutation ceases, precession ceases, ITuse the same apparatus and set the wheel in motion as before. Precession, as you see, begins at once. Now I pull upward by means of a cord on the free end of my gyroscope, just enough to stop the tilting downward. Instantly the precessional movement ceases. I slacken the string, it begins again. I pull upwards, and again it stops. Vary itas I may, when there is nutation, there is precession, and at no other time. It is impossible to get the precession without the nu- tation, but it is easy to make the machine tilt up, or down, without the precession. When I pulled the string horizontally, there was no precession, but the wheel tilted down. Or if the wheel does not revolve on its own axis, gravity will readily cause it to tilt, but no lateral movement will occur. If the lever is overlcaded so that that end is the heavier, the results are the same. From these experiments we must conclude that nuta- tion (or tilting) and precession are not mutually inde- pendent, and since precession is alwaysa function of nu- tation and the rate of axial rotation, varying directly as the former and inversely as the latter, and since nuta- tion is, at least sometimes, independent of both, we may reasonably regard nutation (or tilting) as the cause, and precession as the effect. This is true of the earth as weli as of the gyroscope. The following gentlemen were unanimously elected members of the Scientific Section, viz.: Silas Wodell, J. B. T. Tuthill, and Theodore Neumann. Mr. Winne nominated for membership Mr. George B. Rogers. 122 TRANSAOTIONS OF SCIENTIFIO SECTION. 173 APRIL 22, 1890—EKIGHTY-THIRD REGULAR MEETING. Edward Elsworth, chairman, presiding; a quorum present. Mr. George B. Rogers was unanimously elected a mem- ber of the Scientific Section. The Curator of the Museum, Dr. W. G. Stevenson, read the following report : APRIL 22, 1890. To the Scientific Section Vassar Brothers Institute : The work of classifying and re-arranging the speci- mens in the Museum, begun a year ago, has been prose- cuted during the past year with the most satisfactory results. Some injured, imperfect, and redundant specimens have been removed, and all other specimens, except the mosses, fungi, coins, and commercial products, have been newly labeled and catalogued. New white paper trays have been substituted for the old buff-colored trays heretofore used to hold the shells and fossils. The Museum now presents an attractive appearance and the specimens are now available for purposes of study. The work in the Museum during the past year has been mostly done by Mr. Gilbert Van Ingen—whose valued services are hereby gratefully acknowledged. Thanks are also given to Miss S. B. Arnold for valued services rendered in connection with the Museum work. The additons to Museum during the year, are as fol- lows by donation : J. G. Vassar Estate, Two Canes. W. G. Stevenson, One Star fish, Mt. Desert, Me. Five Strongylocentrotus drébachiensis, Mt. Desert, Me. 123 174 CURATORS REPORT. One Frog, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. One Obsidian, Yellowstone Park. One Obsidian, South Pacific. One Siliceous sinter, Yellowstone Park. Three Native sulphur, Yellowstone Park. Four Basaltic rocks, Yellowstone Park. Three Siliceous sinter, Yellowstone Park. One Smokey quartz and feldspar. One Chalcedony geode, Brazil. One Nut of Mangifera indica. Four Fangs of ratilesnake. Three sponges, Nassau, N. P. J. Wiggers, One Monstrous chick. One White and brown rat. Miss Bockee, One Indian pestle. Ernest Pelton. One Chrysemys picta. Miss A. M. Goodsell, a collection of forty-two speci- mens, representing thirty-four species of marine shells from California. One Helix californiensis, California. One Pupa, South America. One Star, Monterey, Cal. One Barnacle, Monterey, Cal. One Strongylocentrotus drébachiensis, Marblehead, Mass. One Strongylocentrotus drébachiensis, Wood’s Hole, Mass. One Silver carbonate, Leadville, Col. By Purchase : One Chrysemys picta. Two Turtles. Five Echinoderms. One Chalybite, Jefferson County, N. Y. One Zine silicate, Freedelsberg, Pa. One Quartz crystal, Utah Terr. One Hexagonite, St. Lawrence County, N. Y. One Lepidolite, Massachusetts. One Actinolite, Massachusetts. One Azurite, Utah. 124 VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE. 175 One Brown tourmaline, St. Lawrence County, N. Y. One Satin spar, St. Lawrence County, N. Y. One Gold quartz, California. One Hematite, Jefferson County, N. Y. One Blue Calcite, Jefferson County, N. Y. One Magnetite, Port Henry, N. Y. . One Bat. Two Flying squirrels. Two Quails. One Woodcock. One Red Squirrel. One Red Fox. Two Woodchucks. Three Turtles. The following Indian implements and relics from John W. Emmet. Three Pestles. Two Flint shell openers. Six Awes, One Totem. One Chunkee-stone. Three Weights. Three Arrow points. One Stone pipe. One Bronze Pipe. One Earthenware pot. One Dog’s head cut in stone. Three Fossil shells from Indian cave in Tennessee. One String wampum beads. One String stone beads. Eighty-seven Spear and arrow points, all from Tennessee. Total by donation . : 5 4 4 . : ‘ 34 Total by purchase . : . : : : . s . 149 Grand Total . 5 . . 5 . : : . 233 A general stmmary of the specimens in the Museum classified, labelled and catalogued, may be stated as fol- lows: Fossils : 5 : ‘ ‘ § 3 . 420 Catalogue Entries. Minerals. ; . : : : : . 346 i Archeological . 4 : ; Spin iae . 242 3 : Mammals . 0 : : 0 : : 5 oll 125 176 LIBRARIAN’S REPORT. Birds . : : : . : ; ; . 285 Catalogue Entries. Reptiles, ) Batrachians and ' : : ‘ : : Lon “ “ Fish, J Invertebrates . : ; . - ns st as Plants 5 . : . , - - . 1600 os oe Total . : : 5 “ - . 3803 ‘s se Of specimens displayed in cases, but not yet catalogued there are : Woods . ; ‘ 5 : 4 : : : : : : . 115 Fungi . 6 9 : : : : 0 : : * é . 53 Plantsin alcohol ... ; ; x ; 4 ; 5 ; of RD Total . - 5 , 3 a ee In addition to the dignlgad but snehede eee speci- mens, there yet remain a large collection of mosses and fungi, polished woods, commercial products and coins to be arranged in the cases, and it is hoped that this work can be accomplished during the coming year. Respectfully submitted, W. G. STEVENSON, ; Curator of the Museum. The Librarian, Mr. Fred. 8. Arnold, read the following report : To the Scientific Section ; The Librarian has the omer to announce that, during the preceding year, the library has been indebted to the following institutions for their publications : Academy of Sciences of Philadelphia. American Geographical Society. American Institute of Mining Engineers. American Museum of Natural History. American Philosophical Society. Arkansas Geological Survey. Boston Society of Natural History. California Academy of Sciences. Cambridge Entomological Club. Canadian Institute. 126 VASSAR BROTHERS’ INSTITUTE. 177 Chief of Engineers of United States Army. Cincinnati Society of Natural History. Colorado Scientific Society. Cornell University Library. Department of the Interior. Franklin Institute. Johns Hopkins University. Kansas Academy of Sciences. Meriden Scientific Association. Minnesota Academy of Natural Sciences. Museum of City of Milwaukee. Museum of Wesleyan University. New York Academy of Sciences. New York Microscopical Society. Nova Scotian Institute of Natural Science. Oberhessichen Gesellschaft fiir Natur-und Heil-kunde. Pennsylvania Geological Survey. Royal Society of Canada. Sociedad Cientifica Argentina. Société Impériale de Moscow. Society of Naturalists of Kiev. School of Mines Quarterly. United States Commission of Fish and Fisheries. United States Department of Agriculture—Division of Entomology. United States Geological Survey. Washburn College Laboratory. Wisconsin Academy of Science, Arts and Letters. And that the library has also gratuitously received the ‘Open Court’’ of Chicago for six months, and is so re- ceiving the ‘‘ Mahabharata”’ as it is published. The Institute has also purchased the ‘‘ Manual of Conchology,” by G. W. Tryon, continued by H. A. Pils- bury : and Scudder’s ‘‘ Butterflies of the Kastern United States and Canada.”’ The catalogueing of the library has been proceeding satisfactorily, but is not yet completed. FREDERICK S. ARNOLD, Librarian. 127 178 CHAIRMAN’S REPORT. The Chairman of the Section presented the following report : Members of the Scientific Section: Itis a matter for congratulation that your chairman is able to report that much interest has been manifested in the meetings of the Section during the past year. They have been well attended, and the public interest has also been well maintained. Four new members have been elected dur- ing the year. The work of arranging and classifying the library, and making a, comprehensive catalogue thereof has proceeded under the careful management of Miss 8S. B. Arnold. The museum under the skiliful and intelligent supervision of the Curator, Dr. Stevenson, has made marked and. important progress. With the assistance of Mr. Gilbert Van Ingen, the work of classi- fying and arranging the plants in their proper cases has _ been completed, and a catalogue made. The shells, in- cluding a large number of land shells have been identi- fied, named and displayed in appropriate cases. The janitor reports a large attendance of visitors during the year, especially on Saturdays and holidays, which indi- cates that the people are appreciating our efforts. With renewed hopes for the future and a belief that with a little more effort we may make this Institute a living educational force in our city, I commend it and its interests again to the members who have so generously aided me in making the public meetings successful. Respectfully submitted. EDWARD ELSworRTH, Chairman. The following gentlemen were elected oflicers of the Section for 1890-1891 : Chairman, : : 3 Mr. EDWARD ELSWORTH. Secretary, . : : : Mr. FRED. 8. ARNOLD. Curator, . ; . . W. G. Stevenson, M. D. Librarian, 3 p . Mr. CHaruzs N. ARNOLD. 128 VASSAR BROTHERS INSTITUTE. 179 The Herbarium of Vassar Brothers Institute contains about 1,600 specimens, representing the flora of the United States, among which are the following specimens wholly collected in the County of Dutchess, in the vi- cinity of Poughkeepsie, N. Y.: Name. Lecality. Ranunculacee— Actza alba, Bigel, . F : 5 : : Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Anemone Pennsylvania, L., . A es “6 as Virginiana, L., : ; i : 6s “ 66 66 A 3 66 46 Clematis Virginiana, L., 4 : , ue e 66 6é es . ‘ 3 o 66 66 Ranunculus abortivus, L., . x : : ne ne 6G var tricophyllus, G., . : 4 re a 66 iy oe 66 “é 66 ss bulbosus, L., ; : ; se Gu s§ fascicularis, Muhl, . ‘ A MG Ob 66 66 5 E B 66 66 se multifidus, Pursh, 4 I P 5G oo 6 “6 46 - - i 46 66 ns recurvatus, Poir, ‘ ; ; G6 cd (73 66 46 66 £ repens, L., os ss “6 66 ; - 7 6é 46 is Bceleratus, Tiny) he pee ne i % 6é ce A A P 6é 46 Thalictrum dioicum, L., 5 5 - eS ee polygamum, Muhl, . of a Liriodendron tulipifera, L., ; s¢ ae Anonacecee— Menispermum canadense, L., 5 ; : Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Berberidacece— Berberis aquifolium, Pursh, . : 5 5 Poughkeepsie, N. Y. br meavillg@aris. [s,s : 5 anne Ha ae Caulophyllum thalactroides, Mx. . ui Nympheacece— - Nymphea adorata, L., . A : , ‘ Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Papaveracece— Sanguinaria canadense, L.,_ . : : 6 Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Fumariacee— Dicentra cucullaria, D.C.,_ . : ; : Poughkeepsie, N. Y. 129 180 HERBARIUM. Cruciferce— Arabis candensis, L., . : ‘ : ' Poughicespat) N. Y. ‘« levigata, D.C., . : d 5 ‘ 7 ys 66 66 66 a 3 : i 6é 6é ‘“« lyrata, L. : a ‘ A ; wie i Barbarea vulgaris, é ; : t , ah Re Brassica rapa, L., : F os Ss Capsella bursa- aeators (L. )s Moench, F Shit mi Cardamine hirsuta, L., be 4 & Tomita, D. C., C. Bulbesa: Schreb, . ne * (Dentaria laciniata, Muhl), C. eerie (Muhl), Wood, ; : : ‘ : : an me Erysimum cheirantherden L., p ‘ : ta ys Lepidium campestre (L.), R. Br., a : na + af ruderale, L., . : ‘ : ‘ ss oi 66 6 ce 66 p80 virginicum, L., ; 5 0 : s¢ sf Nasturtium armoracia, Fries. (Armoracia rusticana, Rupp), ees ; »~ ‘om ; we Vn 4 \ dD . Pua. 2 ®t hea. t mes: ee ea i oe DHA Ry | ue wer Ae Anonyy at ai Baa VAR deep Aa y vey yy # any $s | ! ¥ tT NARS ics _. 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