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Ol-' THE 





JULY, 1802. 





Conmrrent resolution (idopied by the Senate Fchruarj/ D, 1S93, and by the Honnv of liep- 
rescntatives February 15, ISOS. 

Remh-ed by the Senate {the Home of L'epreHcntutives coneurriny), That there l)c printed 
of the Reports of the Smithsonian Institution and of the National Museum for the 
year ending June 30, 1892, in two octavo volumes, 10,000 extra copies; of which 
1,000 copies shall ho for the use of the Senate, 2,000 copies for the use of the House 
of Representatives, 5,000 copies for the use of the Smithsonian Instituti(ui, and 2,000 
copies for the use of the National Museum. 





The (nntuai report of the Hoard of Ixej/eiils of the J iistitutioii lo the enel of 

Smithsonian Institition, 
]V((shiit</to)i. It. r., .//,'/// /, IS!Kl\ 
To the Conf/ress of the United States: 

In ;i(*('Oi'<l;in((' with section 5593 of the llcvisod Stal uics of the rnitcd 

Sljites, 1 liave tlu' honor, in bcliaif of the l>oai(l of Ivegcnts, to submit 

lo ('ongress the annual report ol' the operations, expendituies, andeon- 

(lition of the Smithsonian Institution tor the year ending fluue oO,189L*. 

i have the honor to be, very res])ectfully, your obedient servant, 

S. P. Lanciley, 
iSeeretdri/ of iSiinthsonian Institution. 
Hon. I,Evr r. Morton, 

I'yesideiit of the Senate. 
I loll. (JiiAULES V. Crisp, ■ 

Sjtcaher of the House of liepresent<(tives. 

END OF JUNE, 1802. 


1. Proceedings of tlic lioaid of Kegeuts for the session of January, 

2. Keport of the Executive Committee, ex]iil)iting the financial affairs 
of the Institution, inchiding a statement of the Smithson fund, and re- 
ceipts and expenditures for the year 18yi-'92. 

3. Annual report of the Secretary, giving an account of the opera- 
tions and condition of the Institution for the year 1801-92, with statis- 
tics of exchanges, etc. 

4. General appendix, comprising a selection of miscellaneous me- 
moirs of interest to collaborators and correspondents of the Institu- 
tion, teachers, and others engaged in the promotion of knowledge. 



Resolution to Congress to print extra copies of the Report n 

Letter from the Secretary, submitting the Annual Report of the Regents to 

Congress ' n 

General subjects of the Annual Report iv 

Contents of the Report v 

List of illustrations 

Members ex officio of the Establishment ix 

Regents of the Smithsonian Institution ; x 

Journal of the Proceedings of the Board of Regents xi 

Special meeting, October 21, 1891 = xi 

Stated meeting, January 27, 1892 xiv 

Special meeting, March 29, 1892 xxi 

Report of the Executive Committee for the year ending June 30, 1891. . xxiii 

Condition of the fund July 1, 1891 . : xxiii 

Receipts for the year xxiii 

Expenditures for the year xxiv 

Sales and repayments xxiv 

Appropriation for internaticmal exchanges • xxv 

Details of expenditures of same xxv 

A])propriations for North American Ethnology xxvi 

Details of expenditures of same xxvi 

Appropriation for the National Museum xx^'II 

Details of expenditures of same xxviii 

Appropriations for the National Zoological Park xxx viii 

Details of expenditures of same xxx viii 

A])propriation for repairs of Smithsonian building xl 

Details of expenditures of same xi. 

Appropriation for Astro-]>hysical Observatory xl 

Details of expenditures of same x i- 

General summary xlii 

Income available for ensuing year XLiii 

Acts and Resolutions of Congress relative to the Smithsonian Institu- 
tion, National Mueeum, etc., for 1891 ^^-^ 


The Smithsonian Institution 1 

The Establishment 1 

The P.oard of Regents 1 

Administration ■^ 

Finances "^ 




The Smithsonian Institi'tion — Continued. 

Buildings 6 

Research 7 

Asti'o-pliysical Observatory 8 

Explorations 10 

Pu))lications 10 

Internal Exchange Service 12 

Library 15 

Miscellaneous 16 

Tomb of Smithson 16 

Statue of Prof. Baird 16 

Statue of Robert Dale Owen 16 

Peildns collection of copper implements 16 

Stereotype plates 16 

Use of Government collections 16 

Assignment of rooms 16 

Hodgkins donation 17 

United States National Museum '". 20 

Bureau of Ethnology 27 

United States National Zoidogical Park 28 

Necrology 45 

Appendixes 49 

Appendix I. Report of the Director of the Bui-eau of Ethnology 49 

II. Report of the Ciirator of Exchanges 59 

III. Repent of tlie Acting Manager of the National Zoological 

Park 69 

IV. Report of the Acting Librarian 74 

V. Report of the Editor SO 


Advertisement 87 

Meteorological work of the Smithsonian Institution <S9 

The History of the Telescope, by C. S. Hastings 95 

Geological Change, and Time, by Archibald Geike Ill 

Geological History of the Yellowstone National Park, by Arnold Hague 133 

Soaping Geysers, by Arnold Hague 153 

Continental Problems of Geology, by G. K. Gilbert 163 

Pre-Columbian Copper-mining in North America, l)y R. L. Packard 175 

The Polynesian Bow, by E. Tregear. 199 

Hertz's Experiments 203 

Discharge of Electricity without Electrodes, by ,7 . J. Tliomson 229 

Molecular Process in Magnetic Induction, by J. A. Ewing 255 

Crystallization, by G. D. Liveing 269 

Rejuvenescence of Crystals, by John AV. Judd 281 

Deduction from Gaseous Theory of Solution, by Orme Masson 289 

Suggestions Regarding Solutions, by William Ramsay 299 

Liquids and Gases, by William Ramsay 303 

Present Problems in Evolution and Heredity, by H. F. Osborn 313 

Report on the Migration of Birds, by J. A. Palmdn 375 

The Empire of the Air, by L. P. Mouillard 397 

Progress of Anthropology in 1892, by O. T. Mason 465 

The Advent of Man in America, by A. de Quatrefages 513 

Primitive Industry, by Thomas Wilson 521 



Prehistoric New Mexican Potlcrv, by !Iciny Hales ;">:{."> 

l\elics of an Iiuliau lluiitiny (iroiiud, l)y At reus Wanner r>5r» 

Al>original Bnrial Monnds in Ohio, hy R. J. Thoni])son f.Tl 

Indian Remains on tlie Upper ^■ello\vstont', liy William S. lirackelt 577 

I'j-imitive Number Systems, by Levi ]'. Conant r>X'.\ 

Autliropology of the Brain, by D. K. yiiutc ~t'.)r> 

Tlic Birth of Invention, by Otis T. Mason UQ'A 

American Inventions and Discoveries in Medicine, etc., by John S. ]!illin.i;s .. (;i;{ 

Endowment for Scientitic Research, by Addison Brown (i2l 

The Inventors of the Telej^jraph and Telephone, by Thomas ( Jray fi)!!! 

Ex]dorations in Mongolia and Tibet, by W. W. I'oekhill (init 

Progress of Astronomy for 1S91 and bS92, by W. C. Wiiilock tISl 

Indkx 775 

Secretary's Report : 

Fig. 1, idau of the National Zoological Park 

Fig. 2, bear dens ami yards 

Fig. 3, princii)al animal honse of Zoidogical I'ark... 

Eig. 4, plan of jjrincijial animal honse 

Fig. 5, honse for bison and elk 

(Geological history of the Yellowstone National Park : 

Fig. 1, map of the Yellowstone National Park 



Discharge of Ele(tricit> withont 

Electrodes: I'aiic. 

Pig. 1 230 

Figs. 2,3,4,5 234 

Fig. 6 23i) 

Figs. 7, 8 243 

Figs. 9, 10, II 244 

Fig. 12 246 

Fig. 13 249 

Fig. 14 250 

Fiji-. 15. 

ilolecnlar Process in Magnetic In- 
d net ion : 

Fig. 1 

I'ig- ^ 

Figs. 3, 1 , 5, () 

Figs. 7, S, 9 

Figs. 10, 11 

Fig. 12 

Fig. 13 

Fig. 14 

Fig. 15 

Crystallization : 

Fig. 1 

Figs. 2,3... 

Fig. 4 

Fig. 5 






Crystallization — Con tinned. 

' Fig. 6 

Fig. 7 

Dednction from the (Jaseons 'I'lie- 
ory of Solntion : 

I'i^. 1 

Fig. 2 

Fig. 3 

Hnggestions KVgar<ling Solnlions 
and licpiids: 

Fig. 1 

Fig. 2 

Present Problems in Fvolntion and 
Heredily : 

Fig. 1 

Figs. 2,3 


Fig. 6 


Figs. S, 9 

Fig. 10 


Fig. 12 

The Empire of the Air: 

Fig. 1 

i"ig. 2 



29 1 
2! 15 







Tlie Empire of the Air — Continued. Paso. 

Yig. I 4S3 

Eig.n 437 

Fig. (5 441 

Figs. 7, 8 442 

Fii>-. 9 448 

Fig. 10 449 

Fig. 11 450 

Figs. 12, 13 4.54 

Fig. 14 4o5 

Prehistoric New Mexican Pottery: 

Fig. 1 03(1 

Fig. 2 038 

Fig. 3 530 

Fig. 4 540 

Fig. 5 541 

Fig. 6 542 

Fig.7 543 

Fig. 8 544 

Fig. 9 545 

Fij.-.10 546 

Fig. 11 547 

Fig. 12 548 

Fig. 13 549 

Fig. 14 .5.50 

Fig. 15 551 

Fig. Ifi .552 

Fig. 17 553 

Kelics of an Indian Hunting 
Ground : 

Figs. 1-4 556 

Figs. 5-13 557 

Figs. 14-21 .558 

Figs. 22-33 559 

Figs. 34-37 560 

Relics of an Indian Hunting 

Ground — Continued. Page. 

Figs. 38-42 .561 

Figs. 43-46 562 

Figs. 47, 48 563 

Figs. 50, 51, 52 .565 

Figs. 53-57 566 

Figs. .58, 59 567 

Figs. 60-66 568 

Figs. 67, 68 569 

Aboriginal Burial Mounds in Ohio: 

Eig.i ri7i 

Fig. 2 572 

Fig. 3 573 ■ 

Fig. 4 574 

Indian Renuiins on the Upper Yel- 
lowstone : 

Fig. 1 578 

Fig. 2 579 

Fig. 3 580 

Explorations in Mongolia and 

Fig. 1 660 

Fig. 2 (u2 

Fig. 3 664 

Fig. 4 6C6 

Fig. 5 668 

Fig. 6 669 

Fig. 7 670 

Fig. 8 671 

Fig. 9 673 

Fig. 10 675 

Fig. 11 676 

Fig. 12 679 



(.laniiary, 1892.) 

BEN.JA1\IIN HARRISON, President of the United States. 
LEVI P. MORTON, Vice-President of the United States. 
MELVILLE W. FULLER, Chief-Justice of the United fStates. 
JOHN W. FOSTER, Secretary of State. 
CHARLES FOSTER, Secretary of the Treasury. 
STEPHEN B. ELKINS, Secretary of War. 
BENJAMIN F. TRACY, Se(•^^tary of the Navy. 
JOHN WANAMAKER, Postmaster-General. 
WILLIAM H. H. MILLER, Attorney-General. 
WILLIAM E. SIMONDS, Commissioner of Patents. 


(List j;iven on the following- i>age.) 


Samuel P. Langley, Secretary. 
Director of the ln>itUution and of the U. S. National Museum. 

G. Bhown (iooDK, Asaistaitl tSecrciari/. 


By the organizing- act approved August 10, IS^O (Uevised Statutes, 
Title LXXiii, section 5580), "The business of tlie Institution shall be 
conducted at tlie city of Washington by a l>oard of Kegents, named 
the Eegents of the Smithsonian Institution, to be composed of the Vice- 
President, the Chief-Justice of the Ti^nited Slates [and the Governor of 
the District of Columbia], three members of the Senate, and three mem- 
bers of the House of Eepresentatives, together with six other persons, 
other than members of Ccmgress, two of whom shall be resident in the 
city of Washington and the other four shall be inhabitants of some 
State, but no two of the same State." 


The Chief-Jnstico of the United States: 

MELVILLE W. FITLLP]R, elected Chaiioellor and President (if the Board Jan- 
uary 9, 1889. 
The Vice-President of the United States: 

United States Senators : Term Expires 

JUSTIN S. MORRILL (appointed Feb. 21, 1883, and Dec. 15, 1891). Mar. 3, 1897. 

SHELBY M. CULLOM (appointed Mar. 23, 1885, and Mar. 28, 1889). Mar. 3, 1895. 

RANDx\LLL. GIBSON (appointed Dec. 19, 1887, and Mar. 28, 1889). Mar. 3. 1895. 
Members of the House of Representatives : 

JOSEPH WHEELER (appointed Jan. 5, 1888, and Jan. 15, 1892).. Dec. 27, 1893. 

HENRY CABOT LODGE (appointed January 15, 1892) Dec. 27, 1893. 

W. C. P. BRECKINRIDGE (appointed January 15, 1892) Dec. 27, 1893. 

Citizens of a State: 

HENRY COPPEE, of Pennsylvania (first appointed Jan. 19, 1874).. Jan. 26, 1898. 

JAMES B. ANGELL, of Michigan (first appointed Jan. 19, 1887). ..Jan. 19, 1893. 

ANDREW D. WHITE, of New York (first appointed Feb. 15, 1888). Feb. 15, 1894. 

WILLIAM P. JOHNSTON, of Louisiana (appointed Jan. 26, 1892) . . Jan. 26, 1898. 
Citizens of Washington : 

JAMES C. WELLING (first appointed May 13, 1884) May 22, 1896. 

JOHN B. HENDERSON (appointed January 26. 1892) Jan. 26, 1898. 

Executive CommiUee of the Board of liefjcnis. 
James C. Welling, Chairmnv. Henry Coppee, .J. B. Henderson. 



special meetin(j (iv the ijoakb i)v kegents. 

October 21, 1891. 

Pnrsnant to a call by tlic Scciotaiy, a special incctiiigoftlio Board of 
Kegcuts was held at the Jiistitutiou to-day at 1(>:.'>() a.m. Present: 
the Honorable Levi P. Mortem, Vice-President of th(> United States; 
tlie Honorable S. IM. Cnllom, the Honorable E. L. Gibson, the Honor- 
able li. Butterworth, Dr. A. I). White, Br. J. (\ Welling, Dr. Henry 
Coppee, Gen. M. O. Meigs, and the Secretary. 

The Vice-President took the chair and called the meeting to order, 
and on Dr. Welling's snggestion, there being in) objection, the rea<ling 
of the minntes of the last annnal nu^eting was dis])ensed with. 

The Secretary then stated that he had, sonn? months since, entered 
on a correspondence with Mr. Thomas G. Hodgkins, of Setanket, Long- 
Island, and that Mr. Hodgkins had intimated his desire to give a con- 
siderable snm to the fnnd of the Smithsonian Institntion "for the in- 
crease and dififnsiou of knowledge among men." Fnrther correspond- 
ence led to visits to Mr. Hodgkins by the Secretary and by tlie Assistant 
Secretary, and to prolonged conferences with him, the resnlt of which 
was that Mr. Hodgkins offered a donation of .|2(K),(>()(), concerning 
which the Secretary had telegi-ajthed the Eegcnts Jnne 22, and npon 
receiving the individual approval of most of the Uegents to the ac(;ept- 
ance of the snm named, Mr. Hodgkins had later, on September 22, at his 
home on Long Island, given this annnint in casli to the Secretary, who, 
in com])any Avith tin; Assistant Secretary, had bronglit it to Wasliington 
and deposited it in the Treasury of the United States, with the under- 
standing that an early meeting of the Regents would be called as a 
body to c()nsi<ler as to its accei>taiu'e. 

The exact terms in which Mr. Hodgkins made this gift wonld, the 
Secretary said, be stated later; but he gives .$200,000 to the Smithsonian 
Institntion to l)e added to the Smithson fund piopcr "for the increase 
and diffnsion of knowledge among men," with the condition that the 
income of -$100,000 of the gift shall be used, under this general purpose, 
for the especial one of the increase and dillusion of knowledge by in- 
vestigating and spreading knowledge concerning all the i»henoniena of 
atmospheric air. 



This meeting' was, tlierefore, called in pnisnance of this understand- 
ing, and also with regard to some matters concerning tlie Zoological 

Dr. Welling said tliat lie had been instrncted by his colleagues on 
the Executive Committee to bring the matter of this donation before 
the Regents in such a way that they can accept or reject the munificent 
gift made by Mr. Hodgkins. He then read the following preamble and 
resolutions : 

Whereas, Thomas G. Hodgkins, of Setauket, Loug Islautl, has placed iu the hands 
oftlie Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, the sum of two hundred thousand 
dollars, for the purpose declared by him in a formal statement, as follows : 

September 22, 1891. 

I, Thomas G. Hodgkins, of Setauket, New York, desiring to increase the endow- 
ment of the Smithsonian Institution, founded iu the city of Washington, for the 
increase and diffusion of knowledge among men, have transferred to Samuel Pierpont 
Langley, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, the sum of two hundred thousand 
dollars, the same to be delivered to the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian Insti- 
tution, to whom I give it in trust, to be invested permanently in the Treasury of the 
United States, as a part of tlie Smithson fund, and its interest to be applied to the 
increase and diffusou of knowledge among men ; this fund to be called the Hodgkins 
Fund, and all premiums, prizes, grants, or publications made at its cost, to be 
designated by this name; the interest of one hundred thousand dollars of this fund 
to be permanently devoted to the increase and diffusion of more exact knowledge in 
regard to the nature and properties of atmospheric air, in connection with the wel- 
fare of man in his daily life and in his relations to his Creator, the same to be 
effected by the offering of prizes, for which competition shall be open to the world, 
for essays in whiih important truths regarding the phenomena on which life, health, 
and human happiness depend shall be embodied, or by such other means as iu years 
to come may appear to the Regents of the Smithsonian Institution calculated to 
produce the most beneficent results. * * * 

(Signed) Thomas G. Hodgkins. 

Witness : 

(Signed) M. L. Chambers. 

Therefore, be it 

liesolved, That the Regents hereby accept the sum in question, subject to the con- 
ditions thus stated by the donor, and that the Secretary is instructed to carry into 
effect these conditions, and to administer the income as in the case of the income 
from other funds belonging to the Institution. 

Refiolvcd, That the Secretary is instructed to place the sum of $200,000 iu the U. S. 
Treasury, at six per centum interest, under the terms of section 5591, of Title lxxiii, 
of the Revised Statutes of the United States. 

liesolrcd, That the thanks of the Board of Regents are tendered to Mr. Hodgkins 
for his generous and public-spirited donation, and that an engrossed copy of the 
above preamble and resolutions be transmitted to him by the Secretary. 

In answer to a question as to whether this was an absolute gift to 
the Institution, the Secretary said that Mr. Hodgkins thoroughly under- 
stood tliat this gift was subordinate to the general title of the Smith- 
sonian fund, though it was to bear his own name as a sub-title. 

Senator Gullom addressed the meeting at length, quoting frequently 
from the Kevised Statutes, arguing iu favor of accepting the gift with 


its conditions, and conidiKliiii;' his iciiiarks with a motion tliat the 
resohitions be adopted. 

The Chairnum liavin,u- put the (question, the lesohitions were unani- 
mously adopted. 

The Secretary then brouy,lit before the Kegent.s the ditticulties under 
which he was hiboriui>- from tlie insufficient appropriations for the Na- 
tional Zooloji'ical Park, and alter a full discussion of the special diffi- 
culties of the situation bc]ony:in<;' to a novel undertiiking-, where no one 
could say beforehand what appropriation would certainly be reiiuired 
under each item, but where limited approi)riations are nevertheless 
made in unchangeable si>ecittc items, unsupplemented by discretionary 
power, the following preamble and resolution were adopted: 

Whereas, the Natioual Zoolo<;ical Park has been plaeed iiuder the direction of 
this Board, under h'gishxtive conditions (juite other than those conteinplated at the 
time that the responsibility of its administration was accepted by it: 

Resolved, That the Secretary is authorized aiul instructed to represent to the 
proper committees of Cougrciss the difficulties wjiich these conditions impose upon 
the administration of the Institution, and to advise such legislation as may do away 
with the present system by which half of the expense of said i^ark is paid from the 
revenues of the District of Columbia; and also to advise such changes in the form 
of future appropriation bills as may be rerjnisite to do away with the especially 
imposed difiiculties which are now encountered in carrying on the work. 



annual meeting op the board op regents. 

January 27, 1892. 

The annual meeting of the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian 
Institution was hekl to-day at 10 A. m. Present: Mr. Chief Justice 
Fuller, Vice-President Morton, the Hon. J. S. Morrill, the Hon. S. M. 
Cullom, the Hon. R. L. Gibson, the Hon. Joseph Wheeler, the Hon. W. 
C. P. Breckinridge, Dr. Henry Ooppee, Dr. J. B. Angell, Dr. William 
Preston Johnston, the Hon. J. B. Henderson, and the Secretary. 

Excuses for non-attendance were read from Dr. J. C. Welling, caused 
by illness, and from Dr. A. D. White, by imi)ortant engagements. 

The Chancellor stated that the minutes of the annual meeting of 
January 28, 1891, and of the special meeting of October 21, 1891, were 
of considerable length, and the Secretary was requested to read them 
in abstract, which was done. 

The Secretary announced that the Vice-President on December 
15, 1891, re-a])pointed as Regent the Hon. J. S. Morrill, a United 
States Senator ; that the Speaker of the House had re-appointed Repre- 
sentatives Joseph Wheeler, of Alabama; Henry Cabot Lodge, of Massa- 
chusetts, and appointed Representative W. C. P. Breckinridge, of Ken- 
tucky, and that further vacancies in the Board had been filled by the 
re-appointment, by joint resolution ap])roved by the President, January 
26, 1892, of Henry Coppee, of Pennsylvania, and by the appointment 
of William Preston Jolmston, of Louisiana, and John B. Henderson, 
of the District of Columbia. 

The Secretary announced the death of Gen. M. C. Meigs, a Regent 
at large, on January 2, 1892. 

Dr. Coppee moved that a committee, to consist of one member of the 
Board and the Secretary, be appointed to present to this meeting an 
ol)ituary notice of the late Gen. Meigs. The motion was carried, and 
the Chancellor nominated Dr. Coppee to act with the Secretary. Dr. 
Coppee, after expressing his regret at the illness of the chairman of the 
Executive Committee, and his personal sorrow at the death of his col- 
league on the committee. Gen. Meigs, read the following memorial reso- 


The Board of Regents of the Smitlisoniau Institution desires to place on record 
the expression of its sincere sorrow and its sense of the great loss it has suffered in 
the death of Gen. Montgomery Cunningham Meigs, a member of the Board and 
one of its Executive Committee. His valuable services to the Institution l)egan 
indeed before he was officially connected with it as a regent and continued until 
his death. 

While Gen. Meigs was prominently associated with many useful undertakings, his 
record as a soldier and as a citizen is marked bj' unswerving fidelity and extraor- 
dinary capability. The principal events of liis life can only bo briefly mentioned, 
as showing what varied experience he placed at the service of the Institution, 


He was born on tho 'M of .M:iy, ISKJ, at Augusta, (ia., where his father, Charh's 
D. Meigs, afterwards the einineut physk-iaJi and autlior of IMiihuhslphia, was then 
practieiug medicine. After preliminary studies at the University of Pennsylvanin, 
he entered the Military Academy at West l*oint on the 1st of .Inly, \H'.i2, and was 
graduated with distinction in 1836. He was ;it once appointed to a position in the 
artillery service, and in the following year was transferred to the Corps of Engi- 
neers. In 1849 he was engaged in the P^ngineer Bureau at Washington, and from 
that time until the outbreak of the civil war his activity was principally directed 
to the construction of (iovernment works. Toward the close of 1852 he made a sur- 
vey at Washington to determine the best plan for supjilying the (uty with w;(ter. 
He was eventually i)laced in charge of the work, which included the designing and 
construction oi" the Potomac ac([ueduct. This remarkable work contains a single 
arch of 220 feet span, wliich still remains the largest stone arch hitherto constructed. 

He also had charge, as supervising engineer, of the north and south extensions 
of the National Capitol and of the construction of the iron dome, as well as of the 
northward extension of the General Post-Office building. 

When the war broke out he was appointed colonel of the Eleventh Infantry 
(May 14, 1861) and afterwards quartermaster-general of the LI. 8. Army, with the 
rank of brigadier-general. This post required unusual administrative ability, with 
a probity which conunanded general recognition, and it was becaus(s of his high 
integrity and the strength of his personal character, as well as his acknowledged 
capacity for business, that he was entrusted with the handling and use of hundreds 
of millions of dollars in the greatest war ever waged. 

This is not the jjlaee to recount liis military services. 'I'hey were numerous and 
admirably discharged. His duties took him to all parts of the country, conuectiid 
him with many fields of labor, and (sngaged him on the most varied commissions. 
Suffice it to say tliat he fully justiiied the conlidence imposed in him liy President 
Lincoln, performing with signal ability the duties entrnstt'd to him. In 1864 he 
received the well earned title of brevet major-general in the Army. 

ICvcn during tlie jjeriod of his service in the Army he was eng.iged in other occu- 
pations; rendering the Smithsonian Institution most im|>ortant service in 1S76 by 
devising the new building for the National Museum, a marvel of economic desigTi. 

While still full (tf vigor (ien. Meigs was retired from active service (tn the 6tli 
of February, 1882, by the inexoiable law whicli makes the grand eliniaeterie tlu' 
period avIicu military inaction begins. But he was by no means idle. He signalized 
his talent as an architect l)y the construction of the Pension-Ottice l)uilding at 
Washington between the years 1SS2 and 1SS7. 

He was elected a fellow of the National Academy of Sciences in l8fi.T, and a regent 
of the Smithsonian Instittition, as a "citizen of Washington," and directly upon his 
entrance into the board, December 2G, 1885, became an active member of its Exe(!U- 
tive Committee, llv was always ]»resent, extremely i)ainstakiug, and eminently 
judicious in his counsel and judgment on imi)ortant points of business and policy. 
He had just been nominated as regent for another term of six years when he was 
taken away from us by sudden illness (.January 2, 1892). 

He was eminent as a soldier, as a scientitie investigator, as a public-spirited citi- 
zen, and as a man. Industrious and exact in business, he knew no idle time. He 
was a busy man even when he 8i)ent a year in Euro])C for his health in 1X67 and 
1868, as well as on his visit th(!r(^ in 1875 on (rovernment service. 

Few regents havt; been of such importance to the Institution as (ien. Meigs, .and 
it is fitting that we shr)uld record our tribute (d' thankfulness for his <'minent serv- 
ices and our great sorrow at his loss. He Avas a man faithful in all things, who has 
left behind him an enduring reputation. 

Senator Gibson moved the adoption of the moiiioriiil iiiid iliat ;i coi).;' 
thereof should be sent to tlie laniilv of (Jen. Meias, wliich was carried. 


three items: For buildiugs, improvements, and maintenance. While 
all were insufficient, that for maintenance (which was essentially for 
the care and food of living animals) was peculiarly inade<iuate, since it 
left him unable to care for creatures who could not care for themselves, 
and ought not to be allowed to suffer. This item, then, was notably 
different in kind from those providing for buildings or roads, which 
might be left incomi)lete with less immediate damage or only i^ecuniary 

Senator Morrill expressed his regret at the deplorable insufficiency 
of the appropriations for the park, and at the necessity of contemplating 
the sundering of the park from the Institution, but he was of the opin- 
ion that such a separation would become desirable unless some change 
was made. He thought it out of the question that the matter should 
continue on ihe present footing, and the Smithsonian ought not again 
to be put under the necessity of caring for any part of the park out of 
its private funds, even temporarily and indirectly. 

Further renuirks were made by Mr. Breckinridge and Mr. Wheeler. 

With reference to the administration of the Institution, the Secretary 
recalled that the Assistant Secretary has, as such, no power to act in 
the Secretary's place, such as the Assistant Secretary in any Exe(;u- 
tive Department possesses, and that he can not even execute such 
routine signatures of necessary vouchers and like papers as in Executive 
Departments the law authorizes, not only him, but his subordinates 
to do. 

Ajiart from the imi)ortant administrative duties assigned to the 
Secretary, ther(^ i)resent themselves daily a great many vouchers and 
like routine papers for the Treasury from the different bureaus under 
his charge — papers v.iiich, as has just been stated, would in every 
bureau of any Execati\'e Department of tlu^ Government be signed by 
a snbordinate oflicer; wliile here the Secretary- or Acting Secretary 
nuist i)ersoual]y sign such routine money papers, under a custom which 
has grown step by step from small beginnings to be a hardly tolerable 
burden in the illness or absence either of the Secretary or of the Act- 
ing Secretary, while for their joint illness no i)rovision is made what- 
ever. To meet in part the difficulties arising from the necessity of dele- 
gating authority for signing vouchers and like Treasury papers, it 
was stated that by i)roi)er action of the Board of Eegents all re({uire- 
meuts of the Treasury Department might be met. 

No similar difficulty exists in any Executive Department, because 
in all such the lav,' provides not only tor the Secretary and Acting- 
Secretary, but for a line of succession of subordinate officers author- 
ized to execute such acts as the daily conduct of their respective 
bureaus rendt'rs necessary. 

The Secretary pointed out that, owing to the established princii)lesof 
conduct in the Sniithsoniaii Institution (which there was no intention 
here of departing from), the Secretary's power had never been diffused 


and (Icleiiated as was tlic cast' in the Executive Dei>artiiu'nts of the (lov- 
('riiiiieiit, where thei'e were several persons in every separate bureau 
who had a right, in case of the absence not only of the Secretary and 
Acthig- Secretary, bnt of the head of the bureaii itself, to carry on its 
affairs, and especially to sign such money pa])ers as were required for 
its current business with the Treasury. Tliere was no time, howev<'r, 
in tlie i>ast twelve years, when, in the joint excnl of the illness of tlie 
Secretary and the Acting Seeretaiy, there was any sucli ]>rovisi(Hi for 
carrying on the cui'rent business of the Institutntn. The Secretar\' 
further pointed out that since the provision for an Acting Secretary 
wi'.s lirst made in lS7t>, he had made a comjuitation of the anrount of 
business coming before the Secretary then and now, which shows that 
the work is at i)resent from eight to ten times that when the tirst legis- 
lation for an Acting Secretary was asked for. 

Dr. Coppee said that owing to his long connection with the Institu- 
tion — perhaps the longest of any member present, witli the possible 
exception of Senator Morrill — he felt particularly in a position to cor- 
roborate the statements made by the Secretary as to the growth of the 
business of the Instituticm since the passage of the act relating to the 
appointment of an Acting Secretary, and he thought the best manner 
of effecting this immediate relief to the Secretary was covered by the 
following resolution : 

Resolved, That tlic Secretary be empowered to appoint some suitable person who, 
in cast? of need, may sij^n such retjuisitions, vouchers, abstracts of vouchers, accounts 
current, and indoisements of checks and drafts as arc nee(h'd in the current l)usi- 
nessofthe Institution or of any of its bureaus, and are custonuirily bigHcd in the 
l)urc:tus of other (h'partmcnts of the (iovernment. 

lie added that as this came before the I>oard at a late hour he would 
move, in order to give time for its consideration, that the whole matter 
be ])ut in thi' hands of a committee appointed b.\' the Chancellor with 
power to act. 

The Chancellor stated that undoubtedly the increased growth of the 
Institution had introduced new demands, and that it was desirable 
that the action in reference to them should be carefully studied. 

After further remarks by Mr. IJreckinridge and Mr. Henderson and 
other members of the Board, Dr. Cop]>ee said that he thought the 
action of the Executive Committee could cover the ground of the reso- 
lution, and, on motion of the Vice-President, the whole subject was 
referred to the Executive Committee with power to act on the resolu- 

The Secretary said, in connei-tion with what had just been done, 
that the increased burdens of extraneous duties imposed by Congress 
were accom])anied by special exjx'iises for administtuing appropria- 
tions for which no legislative pro\ ision was made, and which necessa- 
rily fell on the limited Smithsonian fund. i>artly in indirect ways. 
There was no xjrovision, for instance, for a disbursing ofticcr, or private 


secretary, or steuograj)hers, or clerks, or messengers to a,ttend to the 
administrative duties common to all tlie bureaus under the Eegeuts' 

Dr. Coppee offered the following resolution, at the same time calling 
the attention of the Board that it referred to public funds only: 

Resolved, That the Secretary be iustructed to ask for au appropriation by Congress 
to meet the miscelhiueous expenses incident to the administration of the public 
funds with which the Regents are intrusted. 

On motion the resolution was adopted. 

There being no further business before the meeting the Board ad- 


special meeting of the hoard of regents. 

March 29, 1892. 

A special meeting of the Board of Regents was liekl to-day at a 
quarter before 10 o'clock A. m. Present: The Chancellor — Mr. Chief- 
Justice Fuller, in the Chair; the Hon. Levi P. Morton, Vice- 
President; the Hon. S. M. Culloiu; the Hon. E. L. Gibson; the Hon. 
Joseph AVheeler; the Hon. H. C. Lodge; the Hon. W. C. P. Breckin- 
ridge; Dr. J. C. Welling, and the Secretary. 

The reading of the minutes of the last meeting was dispensed with, 
and the Secretary read a telegram from Dr. Copi)ee, expressing his 
regret at his inability to be jiresent. 

The Secretary stated that the meeting had been called at the reipiest 
of three of the Eegents chietly on account of the action of the Appro- 
priations Committee of the House of Representatives — a matter in 
which the good name of the Institution was in some measure involved, 
— whereby the ai)propriations for vaiious Gov'ernment interests undei- 
the charge of the Regents had been reduced to such an extent that the 
prosperity of all these departments Avould receive a blow from which 
they could not hope to recover for years to come. 

Especial stress was laid upon the inadequacy of the appropriations 
for the I^ational Zoological Paik and attention was also called to the 
fact that the park is already visited on fair days by thousands not 
oidy of adults but of children, while dangerous animals are there with- 
out sufrtcient buildings or cages or inclosures, and without means to 
])i(»vide thenL and that the only protection of the public and esjjecially 
of children n)ust be from incessant guardianship, which the present 
small and overworked force is unable to ])ro])erly render. 

The S«'cretary stated that he was unable to carry on tlie jyark with 
less expenditure for maintenance than i2(),()00, or with a less total 
a])])i'oi)riation than 850,000, in case it were made in one item. 

Tlie following resolutions were introduced by Mr. Wheeler: 

livnolnd, Tliat tlio Board of Ki-gcuts of tin- Siiiitlisoiiiaii Institution would ro- 
s]»t'ctfiilly represent 1o Congress tin; iiu])()ssil)ility of niaintaininj; tlu'adiuiuistratiou 
of the I'nited States National /oJllosieal Park, re(|uire(l by the act of Con-iress of 
April ;M), 1890, with a less a])])ropriation for maintenance than $2(;,()()(), or with a less 
total appropriation than $50,000. 

Jhaolrt'd, That the Soeretary of the Institution l)e recinested to couiniunicate this 
resolution to the President of the .Senate and Speaker of the House of Ke])re8enta- 
tives, with a preliminary statement oi' the reasons and considerations on which it is 

Aftei- sonu' Inrtlier discussion, the resolntions weie adoi)ted, with 
the understanding that such limited moditication of the wording might 
be made as to meet any technicality suggested by the Treasury De- 

There was a general exinessionof opinion among the Regents that the 


coiulition of tlie affairs of the x)ark should be brought to the attention 
of (Jongress by exphmation on the floor of the House and iSenate from 
Regents and friends of the Institution. 

Further remarks on the matter were made by Mr. Lodge and Dr. 

The Secretary then read a communication from Mr. Thomas G. 
Hodgkins, dated March 10, 1892, in which Mr. Hodgkins stated that 
he desired to relinquish the option of ('(mtributiiig the further sum of 
$100,000 to the Smithsonian fund. 

There beiug no further business befor*^. the Board, the meeting- ad- 


Foil THE Year Hndinci ."IOtii of Juni;, IS!>2. 

To the Board of Bcgenfs of the Smifhsojiiau Iiisfitiition : 

Your Executive Coiniiiittoe respectfully submits the iollowiuu' re])ort 
ill relation to the fmuls of the Institutiou, the appropriations by Con 
jii'ess, and the receipts and expenditures for tlie Suiitlisoiiian Institu- 
tion, tlie [T. ^5, National Museum, the International Exchanges, the 
lUireau of Etlinology, the National Zoological Park, and the Astro- 
Physical Observatory, for the year ending oOth June, ISiH', and 
balances of fcn^ner years: 

('o)uli/i(Hi of llic fitiid -hill/ /, ISflJJ. 

The amount of the bequest of James Sniithson deposited in the 
Treasury of the Fnited States, according to act of Congress of August 
10, LS-fO, was §5ir),lG9. To this was added by authority of Congress, 
February H, 18G7, thc^ residuary legacy of Sinithson, savings from 
income and other sources, to the amount of 1134,831. 

To this also have been added — a becjuest from ,lanu\s Hamilton, of 
Pennsylvania, of .^1,(KK); a bequest of Dr. Simeon Habel, of New 
York, of $.")()(); the i)roceeds of the sale of Virginia bonds, $.")1,5(K); 
and a gift from Thonnis G. ilodgkins, of New York, of $200,000, mak- 
ing in all, as the permanent fund, .s!>03,00(). 

Statemenl of the rcccipfn <ni(1 cfjieiKlitin-rf! fiwu .JuJij /, ISO I. to June JO, 1S92. 


Cusli on liniid July 1. ISitl $40, OIL'. 11 

Interest <m IuikI .Jnly I, 1S!)1 $21,0!t(). 00 

Interest on Innd Jannarv 1 , 1S91> 23. 8iU. ;]() 


Ciish tVoni ThouKisO. Ilodgkins 200,000.00 

$284, 513. 47 

Cash from s.nles of jnililications 'MX. 21 

Casli from renavnient of IVeinlit, etc 2, ot)r>. i)9 


Total receipts 2S7. 517. 70 



Building : 

Repairs, care, ami improvemeuts $1, 892. 23 

Furniture and iixtnres 855. 89 

$2, 748. 12 

General expenses: 

Meetings 558. 50 

Postage and telegraph 243. 50 

Stationery 486. 37 

General printing 284. 55 

Incidentals (fuel, gas, etc. ) 2, 209. 19 

Library (books, periodicals, etc.) 1, 234, 52 

Salarie's* 16,276.85 

21, 293. 48 

Publications and researches: 

Smithsonian contributions 6, 067. 43 

Miscellaneous collections 8.55. 55 

Reports 429.04 

Researches 2,031.90 

Apparatus 1, 625.61 

Explorations 10. 75 

Museum 1, 270. 00 


Literary and scientific exchanges 3, 310. 49 

■ Increase of fund 200, 000. 00 

Total expenditures (including $200,000 deposited in the 
U. S. Treasury October 22, 1891, to the credit of the 
permanent fund) $239, 642. 37 

Balance unexpended June 30, 1892 47, 875. 33 

The cash received from sales of publicatious, repayments for freights, 
etc., is to be credited on items of expenditures as follows: 

Postage and telegrai)h $2. 02 

Stationery 4. 25 

General printing 2. 10 

Incidentals 3. 57 

Smithsonian contvi butious $126. 41 

Miscellaneous collections 196. 18 

Reports .55. 65 

378. 24 

Apparatus 4. 00 

Museum 320.00 

Researches 120. 86 

Exchanges 2,139.19 

Total 2,974.23 

The net expenditures of the Institution for the year ending June 30, 
1802, was therefore -t 230,688.14, or $2,074.23 less than the gross ex- 
penditures, 8230,042.37, above given. From the net expenditures, 
$230,088.14, there should be deducted $200,000, the amount deposited 
in the U. S. Treasury to the credit of the permanent fund, making the 

* In addition to the above $16,276.85 paid for salaries under general expenses, 
$4,874.44 were paid for services, viz : $236.34 from apparatus account, $1,500 from 
building account, $306.28 from library account, $1,431.90 from researches account, 
and $1,399.92 from Smithsonian contributions account. 


net expenditures for the expenses and operations of the Institution 
for tlie year ending- June 30, lS!t2, s3().(i88.14. 

All moneys received by the Smithsonian Institution from interest, 
sales, refunding' of moneys temporarily advanced, or otluMwise are de- 
posited with the Treasurer of the United kStates to the credit of the 
Secretary of the Institution, ami all payments are made by his checks 
on the Treasurer of the ITnitcd States. 

Your committee also presents the following statements in regard to 
appropriations and expenditures for objects intrusted by Congress to 
the care of the Smithsonian Institution: 


Jim ijils. 

Aiipropiiation by Congress for the fiscal year ending Jnno 30, 1S!(2, "for 
expenses of the system of international exchanges between the United 
States and foreign countries, under the direction of the .Siuithsouian 
Institution, including salaries or compensation of all necessary em- 
ployes" (sundry civil act, March 8, 1891) $17. 000. 00 

Ejpcnditutuiifrom Jiilij 1, IS'.U. to .lion- of), 1S9:,'. 

Salaries or eonii)ensation : * 

1 curator, 3 months, at $208.33, .$()21.W; months, at $22"), 

$2,02.^ $2, (119. 99 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $l(i0 1, 920. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $120 1, 410. 00 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at $8.5 1, 020. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $80 960. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $7') 900. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $75 900. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $(!;"> 7,S(). 00 

Istenographer, 12 niontlis, at .$1.5 540. 00 

I crlerk, 7 months, at $45, $315 ^ 

1 copyist. 5 montlis, :it $40, $200 (, '''•'• ^^ 

1 copyist, 8 days, at $40, $10.32; 11 montiis, at $40, $410 ... 450.32 

1 packer, 12 months, .-it .$75 900. 00 

] i>acker, 12 months, at $50 (iOO. 00 

1 ))aeker, 3 days, at $1..50 1..50 

1 laborer, 5 months, at .$50 250. 00 

1 laborer, 7 months, at $.35 245. 00 

Total salaries or coniiMiisal ion 14. 074. 81 

Gen»!ral expenses : 

Freight $1,772.01 

Tacking boxes .".(13. 05 

Printing and bimling 103.00 

Tostagc! nil. 17 

Stationery and supi)lies 322. 91! 


Total expeuditu'es for international exchanges 17, 000. 00 

*NoTi:. — The payments of salaries for ])arts of months in January, March, July, 
August, October, and December are made on the basis of 31 days, and for the other 
months (except February) at 30 <lays. 



Appropriation by Congress for the fiscal year ending Jnne 30, 1892, "for 
contiuniui;- ethnological researches among the American Indians nnder 
the direction of the Smithsonian Institntion, including salaries or com- 
pensation of all necessary employes" sundry civil act, March 3, 1891 .. sj^50, 000. 00 

Balance .Inly 1. 1891, as per last annual report 12, 774. 24 

Total 62. 774. 24 

The actiuil conduct of these investigations has been continued by the 
Secretary in the hands of Maj. J. W. Powell. Director of the U. S. Geo- 
logical Survey. 

ExpinditinrnJuhj 1. 1S91, fo Jioic ■1(1, 1S02. 

Salaries or compensation : 

1, at $3,000 per annum, 11 months .$2. 750. 00 

1 ethnologist, at $3,000 per annum 3, 000. 00 

2 ethnologists, at .$2,400 per annum 4, 800. 00 

1 ethncdogist, at $2,000 per annum ] , 999. 92 

1 ethnologist, at $1,800 per annum 1, 800. 00 

1 archaeologist, at $2,600 per annum 2, 599. 92 

1 assistant archa-ologist, at $1,200 per annum 1, 200. 00 

1 assistant archa'ologist, at $1,.500 x)er annum 1, .500. 00 

1 assistant ethnologist, at $1,800 ])er annum, 1 month 150. 00 

1 assistant ethnologist, at $1,800 per annum, 2 months 300. 00 

1 assistant ethuiddgist, at $1,600 per annum, 10 months 1, 333. 30 

1 assistant ethnologist, at $1,800 per annum, 5 mouths 7.50. 00 

1 assistant ethnologist, at $1,400 per annum, 9 mojiths 1, 049. 94 

1 assistant ethnologist, at $1,200 per annum, 11 months 1, 100.00 

1 assistant etlinologist, at $900 per annum 900. 00 

1 assistant ethnologist, at .$900 per annum, 2 months and 15 

days 187. .50 

1 assistant ethnologist, at $600 per annum, 2 months and .7^ 

days 115. 00 

1 stenographer, at $1,500 per annum 1, 500. 00 

1 clerk, at $1,200 per annum, U nnmths 1,100.00 

1 clerk, at $1,200 per- annum 1, 200. 00 

2 clerks, at $720 per annum 1, 440. 00 

1 copyist, at $1,000 per annum 999. 96 

1 copyist, at $840 per annum 840. 00 

1 coi)yist, at $600 per annum, 1 month 50. 00 

1 modeller, at $720 \w\- annum 720. 00 

1 modeller, at $720 per annum, 5 mouths and 21 <lays 340. (55 

1 messenger, at $600 per annum, 9 mouths 450. 00 

1 messenger, at $600 per annum, 2 months and 23 days 138. 33 

1 laborer, at .$600 per annum. 7 months .• . . - 350. 00 

1 laborer, at ,$600 per annum, 5 months and 28 days 295. 16 

Unclassified or special jol)S, etc 1, 600. 65 

Total salaries or compensation 36. 560. 33 


Travelling expenses $3, 660. 05 

Transportation 963. 69 

Field subsistence 719. 20 

Field expenses 1, 675. 25 


Miscellaneous — ContiniiiHl. 

Fichi material ^fHK;. 1*» 

Freight .'iSO. ft") 

,Su])l)lies 1,8()7. !t8 

Stationery HO. 'AH 

Oftiee furniture VAX. 25 

I'nblications Hiid. (!l> 

Dra\vin,i;s itOS. 77 

Laboratory supplies 117. SO 

Repairs "> 1 . 1 1 

II 1. 20r.. 85 

$47. 766. IS 

Balance .Inly 1. 1802 15, 008. 06 

Expenditures re-elassi(ie<l by subject-matter: 

Sign language and picture-writing 4, 732. 40 

Exi)Iorations of mounds 4, 342. 18 

Researches in archaMilogy 14. .561. 15 

Rfsearchcs, language of A'oitii American Indians 14,660.21 

Salaries in office of Director 3, 678. 2!) 

Illustrations for report.s 1, 388. 21 

Researches among Pueblos 2. 560. 20 

Contingent expenses 1, 673. .52 

Bonded railroad accounts settled by Treasury 170. 07 

Total <'X])endi1ures, North .\merican etlin<dni:y 47, 766. 18 

• Balance .July 1, 1802 15, 008. ()(> 

.luly 1, 18!)i. lialaneo on hand 12.774.21 

Ajiitropriation for .North American ethiiologv 50,000.00 

62, 774. 24 
Ex])en(led 47. 7(i6. 18 

Balance July 1. Is!t2 15,008.0'/ 


PUESERV.\TION OV COLI.KCTIOXS. .JlI.Y 1, ISIU. I ( > .1 TXK 30. 1892. 


Appropriation by Congress for the fiscal year ending .lune 30, 1892, '' for 
continuing the preservation, exhibition, and increase of the collec- 
tions from the surveying and (exploring ex])editions of the Govern- 
ment, and from other sources, including salaries or compensation of ail 
necessary em]doyes" (sundry civil act, .March 3, 1891) .+ 145,000. 00 

Salaries or compensation : 


1 A.ssistaut Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, in 
charge of U. S. National Museum, 12 mouths, at $333. 33 3, 999. 96 


Salaries or compeusation — Continued. 


1 curator, 6 months, at $225 ; 6 mouths, at $200 $2, 550. 00 

1 curator, 12 mouths, at $200 2, 400. 00 

1 curator, 12 months, at $200 2, 400. 00 

1 curator, 7 months, at $200 ; 5 mouths, at $175 2, 275. 00 

■ 1 curator, 12 mouths, at $175 2,100. 00 

1 curator, 12 months, at$150 1, 800. 00 

1 curator, 11 numths. at $100 1, 100. 00 


1 acting curator, 6 months, at $140; 6 months, at $125 1,590.00 

1 assistant curator, 11 months, .at $166.60; 1 month, at 

181. 66 2, 014. 92 

1 assistant curator, 12 months, at $140 1, 680. 00 

1 assistant curator, 12 months, at $133. 33 1, 599. 96 

1 assistant curator, 12 months, at $100 1, 200. 00 

1 assistant curator, 1 month, at $125; 3 months, at $50.. 275.00 

6, 769. 88 

1 assistant, 1 month, at $100 100.00 

1 assistant, 1 month and 20 days, at $85 141. 67 

1 assistant, 5 months, at $65 325. 00 

1 assistant, 2 mouths, at $65 130. 00 

1 assistant, 11 months, at $80 880. 00 

1, 576. 67 

1 aid, 12 months, at $100 1, 200. 00 

1 aid, 12 months, at $80 960. 00 

1 aid, 11 months 15 days, at 83. 33 958. 00 

1 aid, 3 months, at $80 240. 00 

1 aid, 12 months, at $60 720. 00 

1 aid, 8 montlis, at $50 400.00 

1 aid, 10 months at $60 ; 1 month, at $40 640. 00 

1 aid, 2 months, at $50 100. 00 

1 aid, 12 months, at $40 480. 00 

1 aid, 4 months, at $46 ; 1 numth, at 44. .50 ; 7 months, at$40 508. 50 

6, 206. 80 

1 special agent, 29 days, at $6 174. 00 

1 collector, 9 months, at $140 '. 1, 260. 00 

1 collector, 9 months, at $50 450. 00 

1, 710. 00 

32. 652. 35 


1 chief clerk, 12 mouths, at $187. 50 2, 250. 00 

1 corresponding clerk, 12 months, at $175 2, 100. 00 

1 registrar, 12 mouths, at $158. 33 1, 899. 96 

1 dishursing clerk, 12 mouths, at $100 1, 200. 00 

1 assistant lihrarian, 12 months, at $100 1, 200. 00 

1 stenographer, 11 months, at $60; 1 month, at $85 745. 00 

1 draftsman, 7 nu)nths, 15 days, at $83. 33 626. 41 

1 assistant draftsman, 5 months, at $40 200. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $125 1, 500. 00 

1 clerk, 4 months and 15 days, at $125 665. 32 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $115 1, 380. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $115 1, 380. 00 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at $100 1, 200. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $100 1, 200.00 


Salaries or c(>in))eusatioii — Continufd. 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at $90 $1 . 0,S(). 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $83. 33 99i). 9(; 

1 clerk, 6 mouths 15 days, at $80 520. 00 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at $75 900. 00 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at $70 S 10. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $(50 720. 00 

1 clerk, 11 months 24 days, at $(50 706. 15 

1 clerk, 11 mouths 1 day, at $60 661. 91 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $60 720. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $60 720. 00 

1 clerk, 11 mouths, at .$60 660. 00 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at .$,55 660. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $55 660. 00 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at $55 (160. 00 

1 clerk, 12 months, at $55 660. 00 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at $50 600. 00 

1 clerk, 12 mouths, at $50 600. 00 

1 clerk, 11 months 7 days, at $.50 561. 29 

1 clerk, 3 mouths 9 days, at $50 165. 00 

1 copyist, 12 mouths, at .$55 660. 00 

1 copyist, 12 months, at $50 600. 00 

1 copyist, 12 months, at $50 600. 00 

1 copyist, 12 mouths, at $50 ' 600. 00 

1 copyist, 3 mouths, at .$50 150. 00 

1 copyist, 8 months 15 days, at $15 381, 77 

1 copyist, 12 months, at .$40 480. 00 

1 copyist, 12 months, at $40 480. 00 

1 copyist, 12 mouths, at $40 480. 00 

1 copyist, 12 months, at $40 480. 00 

1 copyist, 12 months, at .$40 480. 00 

1 copyist, 12 mouths, at $.35 420. 00 

1 copyist, 3 mouths 16 days, at $35 123. 06 

1 copyist, 12 months, .at .$35 420. 00 

1 copyist, 6 mouths, at $30 180. 00 

1 copyist, 12 months, at $30 360. 00 

1 copyist, 12 months, at $30 360. 00 

1 copyist, 56 days, at $1.50 per day 84. 00 

1 type-writer, 12 months, at .$50 600. 00 

.$38, 580. 16 


1 preparator. 10 moutlis, at $100 1.000.00 

1 preparator, 12 months, at $80 960. 00 

1 preparator, 12 mouths, at $60 720. 00 

1 prc])arator, 6 mouths, at $60, $360; 30 days, at $60 per 
month, $58.06; 28A^ days, at .$60 per month, .$58.97; 30 

days, at $60 per month, .$58.0(5 535. 00 

1 preparator, 1 month 75. 00 

1 ])reparator, 24 days, at $3.20 7(). 80 

1 .artist, 12 months, at $110 l.:'>20. 00 

1 photographer, 9 mouths, at $158.33. $1,424.97; 15 d.iys. 
at $158.33 per monlh. $76.61: 16 d:iy;-, at $158.33 per 

month, $81.72 1, .583. 30 

1 ta.xidoriiust, 12 mouths, at .$(50 720. 00 

1 taxidermist, 12 mouths, at $125 1, 500. 00 


Salaries or (_om})eu>satiou — Coiitiuued. 

1 taxidermist, 12 uiouths, at $120 $1, 140. 00 

1 taxidermist, 1 mouth, $80 ; 2, 280 hours, at 45 ceuts 1, 106. 00 

1 assistaut taxidermist, 19 days, at $60 iier month 36. 77 

$11, 072. 96 


1 superinteudeut, 12 uiouths, at $137. 50 1, 650. 00 

1 assistaut superiuteudent, 12 mouths, at $90 1, 080. 00 

1 chief of watch, 12 mouths, at $65 780. 00 

1 chief of watch, 12 uionths, at $65 780. 00 

I chief of watch, 7 uiouths. at $65 150. 00 

1 watchmau, 12 mouths, at $65 780. 00 

12 Avatchmeu, 12 mouths, at $50 7, 200. 00 

1 watcluuan, 9 months, at $50, $450; 29 days, at $50 per 

month, $48.33; 29 days, at $50 per month, $48.34; 30 

days, at $50 per month, $48.39 595. 06 

1 watchman, 3 mouths 26 days, at $50 191. 94 

1 Avatchmau, 9 months 24 days, at $45 441. 00 

1 watchman, 8 months 17 days, at $45 384. 68 

1 watchmau, 3 mouths, at $45 135. 00 

1 watchmau, 10 mouths 29 days, at $45 492. 10 

1 watchmau, 10 months, at $45, $450; 30 days, at $45 per 

mouth, $43.55 ; 30 days, at $45 per month, $43.55 537. 10 

1 skilled laborer, 12 months, at $52 624 . 00 

1 skilled laborer, 12 mouths, at $50 600. 00 

1 skilled laborer, 1 month 16 days, at $50 75. 81 

1 skilled laborer, 19 days, at $45 per mouth 27. 58 

1 skilled laborer, 27 days, at $2 54.00 

1 skilled laborer, 21 days, at $1. 50 31. 50 

1 laborer, 8 months, at $46; 3 uiouths, at $47.50; 1 month, 

at $44. 50 555. 00 

1 laborer, 2 mouths, at $51; 1 uioiith, at $52..50; 1 month, 

at $49.50 ; 5 uionths, at $45 ; 3 uionths, at $48 573. 00 

1 laborer, 4 days, at $1.29; 39 days, at $1.25; 240 days, at 

$1. 50 413. 91 

1 laborer, 10 mouths, at $40; 1 month, at $43; 1 month, at 

$41.50 484. 50 

1 laborer, 12 mouths, at $40 480. 00 

1 laborer, 12 months, at $40 480. 00 

llaborer, 12 months, at $40 480.00 

1 laborer, 12 months, at $40 480. 00 

1 laborer, 19 days, at $40 i)er mouth 24. 52 

1 laborer, 298 days, at $1.50 447. 00 

1 laborer, 303^ days, at $1.50 455. 25 

1 laborer, 51 days, at $1. 50 76.50 

llaborer, 281 days, at $1.50 421. .50 

. 1 laborer, 297 days, at $1.50 445. .50 

1 laborer, 287^ days, at $1.50 431. 25 

1 laborer, 11 days, at $1.50 16. 50 

1 laborer, 32 days, at $1.!")0 48. 00 

1 laborer, 78 days, at $1.50 117.00 

llaborer, 321 days, at $1.50 481.50 

1 laborer, 32 days, :it $1.50 48. 00 

1 laborer, 305i days, at $1.50 460. 38 

1 laborer, 114 days, at $1.50 171 . 0'.) 


Salarii's or lompfusatiou — C'DUtiuned. 

1 laliorer, o'2U days, at $1.50 .fri'Sii. IT) 

1 lahoror, 327 days, at $1.50 UK). .50 

1 laborer, 283 days, at $1..50 121. 50 

1 laborer, 152 days, at $1 .50 228. 00 

1 laborer, 2itS days, at $1.50 117. 00 

1 laborer, 13 days, at$1..50 i!».50 

1 laborer, 05 days, at $1..50 <J7. .50 

1 lal)()rer, 11 montlis 28 days, at$1..50 470. 13 

1 lal)orer, 291^ days, at $1.50 483. 75 

1 laborer. 5 days, at $1.50 7. 50 

1 laborer. 21 days, at $1.25 30. 00 

1 laborer, 2 inoutlis, at $20 ; 24 days, at $1 64. 00 

1 atteudaut, 10 mouths, at $40, $400; 30 days, at $10 per 

montli, $38.71 ; 30 days, at $40 per mouth, $38.71 477. 42 

1 atteudaut, 10 mouths, at $40. $400; 28 days, at $40 per 

luouth, $37.33 ; 2'J days, at $40 per uionth, $38.07 470. 00 

1 eleauer, mouths, at $30, $270; 30 days, at$30 ]».'r mouth. 

$29.03; 29} days, at $3nper inoutli, $29.4S; 30i days, at$30 

per mouth, $29.52 3.58. 03 

1 cleauei-, 12 luouths, at $30 300. 00 

1 eleauer, lOuiouths, at $30, $300 ; 30i days, at $30 per mouth, 

$29.52; 30 days, at $30 per uioutli, $2i).03 ,35N. 55 

1 eleaiun-, 12 uiouths, at $30 300. 00 

1 eleauer, 314 days, at $1 314. 00 

1 eleauer, 314 days, at $1 314. 00 

1 messcugcr, 12 months, at $45 540. 00 

1 messeuger, 6 mouths, at $45; 6 uiouths, at $50 570. 00 

1 luesseuger, 12 uiouths, at $30 360. 00 

1 messeuger, 11 uiouths, at $30;- 1 uiouth, .it $31.50 361.50 

1 messenger, 6 mouths, at $25 150. 00 

I messeuger, 12 uiouths, at $20 240. 00 

1 uiesseuger, 11 mouths 26 days, at -$20 2.'!(). 77 

1 messenger, 8 mouths, at $25, $200; 26 days, at .$25 jit-r 

mouth, $20.16; 20 days, at $25 )ter mouth, .$16.67 236.83 

1 messeuger, 5 moutl'S, at $15 88. 55 

.$33, 606. 36 

.Speeial servi<'es by job or eoutraet 2, 839. 64 

Total serviees 122,751.43 

iSinin»in-ii — rrencrratio)! of citJUvHons. ISfJ..'. 

Direction $3, 999. 96 

Seieutifu- staff '. 32, 652. 35 

Clerical staff 38, 580. 16 

Preparators 11, 072. 96 

lUiilding and labor 33, 606. 3(5 

.Special or eoutraet work 2, 839. 64 

Total salaries or compensation 122, 751. 43 


Supplies $2, 038. 76 

Stationery 842. 79 

Specimens 6, 340. 12 

Uooks itud periodicals . . . ^;., . , , . . . . ^ ^ , , 453. 00 


Miscelliiucons — Contiuned. 

Travel $1,574.81 

Freight aud cartage 2, 180. 95 


Total expenditure to June 30, 1892, for preservation of collections, 

1^92 136' 181.86 

Balance July 1, 1892, to meet outstanding liabilities 8, 818. 14 

Xatioiial Miiiiciim—FirniitHrc and fijcimrn, July 1, 1801, to June 30, 1892. 


Appropriation by Congress for the fiscal year ending .Tune 30, 1892, "for 
cases, furniture, fixtures, aud appliances required for the exhibition 
and safe-keeping of the collections of the National Museum, includ- 
ing salaries or compensation of all necessary employes" (sundry civil 
act, March 3, 1891) $25, 000. 00 


Salaries or compensation: 

1 engineer of property, 9 months, at $175 , $1, 575. 00 

1 carpenter, 127 days, at $3 381. 00 

1 carpenter, 299f days, at $3 899.25 

1 carpenter, 308i days, at $3 925. 50 

1 carpenter, 296 days, at $3 888. 00 

1 carpenter, 13 days, at $3 39. 00 

1 carpenter, 58 days, at $3 174.00 

1 carpenter, 10 months, at $91 910. 00 

1 carpenter, 301 days, at $3 903.00 

1 carpenter, 14 days, at $3 42.00 

1 skilled laborer, 314 days, at $2 628. 00 

1 skilled laborer, 318^ days, at $2 637. 00 

1 skilled laborer, 1 month 19^ days, at $50 81. 45 

1 skilled laborer, 19 days, at $50 30. 65 

1 skilled laborer, \U months, at $50 575. 00 

1 skilled laborer, 275 days, at $2 550. 00 

1 skilled laborer, 315 days, at $1.75 551. 25 

1 cabinet-maker, 314 days, at $3 942.00 

1 painter, 12 mouths, at $65 780. 00 

1 storekeeper, 12 months, at $70 ■ - - 840. 00 

1 property clerk, 12 months, at $90 per month 1, 080. 00 

1 laborer, 8^ months, at $40 per month $340. 00 

1 laborer, 19 days, at $40 per month 26. 21 

1 laborer, 1 month, at $46 per month • 46. 00 

1 laborer, 1 month, at $41. 50 per month 41. .50 


13, 885. 81 
Special or contract service 87. 96 

Total expenditures for salaries or compensation 13, 973, 77 

IMiscellaneous, materials, etc. : 

Exhibition cases $350. 00 

l^rawings for cases 15. 00 

Drawers, trays, boxes 543. 72 

Frames, stands, etc 169. 50 


Misct'llaiieoiis, materials, etc. — Cmit iiiiicd. 

(ilass )f;2Sl . 7:i 

Hardware 1, OKi. 95 

Tools 15. 5i> 

Cloth, cotton, ?tc 03. 05 

(Jlass jars 1, 002. !•? 

I rmbcr 1, 601). 21 

Paints, oil, brnsbcs im. 70 

Office furnitnre 705. 00 

Metals 367. 14 

Rubber and leatlier 122. 28 

A])paratus : 129. 00 

Travel 2. 00 

Plunibiny 032. 00 

$7, 725. SO 

Total expenditure .July 1, 1891, to June 30, 1892, tor I'uruiture 

and fixtures, 1892 21, 699. 63 

r.alance .luly 1, 1892, to meet outsiaudinj,' liabilities 3,300.37 

Htat'uuj, liijIiliiKj, eh'vtric, and teh-phoniv service, -fuhj 1, 1S91, to June 30, 1S92. 


Ai)i)roi>riati()n by Congress for the fiscal year endinjj; 30tli .Tune, 1892, 
"lor exiienses of heating, lighting, electrical, telegrai)hic, and telc- 
lihouic service for the National Museum" .f 12, 000. 00 

" For removing old boilers under Museum hall iu Smithsonian building, 
replacing them with new ones, and for necessary alterations and con- 
nections of steam-heating ap])aratus and for covering pipes \\\i\\ fir<v 
proof luaterial" (sundry civil act, March 3, 1891) 3. 000. 00 

15, 000. 00 


iSalarics or c(>m]iensa1ion : 

1 engineer. 12 months, at $115 $1,380.00 

1 lirenum, 6 months, at $50 per month. $300; 
30i days, at $50 \h-y month, $49.18; 19i days, 
at $50 per month, $31.45; 28 days, at $50 jier 
month, $48.27; 9 days, at$50 per month. $15 . $143. 91 

1 fireman. 12 months, at $50 (UIO. 00 

1 lircinan, 12 months, at $50 (;00. 00 

1 lircuiau, 11 months antl 9 days, at $50 5()1..52 


1 tele](hone clerk, 12 months, at $00 720.00 / . . . ,. 

1 telei)Iione clerk, 12 months, at $35 120.00 ^ 

1 laborer, 327 days, at $1.50 ])er day 490. 50 

Sjiccial service 20. 00 

Exi>enditures for salaries or comiiens;'! imi 5, 238. 93 

(Jeneral <!X]»enses : 

■Coal and wood $3, 305. 85 

(ias 1,360.5! 

Telcjthones , , . 022. 05 

Electric work . - , : 37. 00 

Ele<tric supplies 87. 53 

Rental of call boxes ,...,,,.,.,..,,.,,, 100.00 

II. Mis. 114 III 


General expenses — Cont inncd . 

Heatiug repairs $329. 00 

Heatin.n' supplies 433. 62 

New boilers (special appropriation) 2, 938. 47 

$!», 274.B3 

Total (■xi)en(litnres .Inly 1, 1892, to .lime SO, 1892, for heating-, 
liuhtiiig, etc 14,5i:i,5« 

Balance July 1, 1892, to meet outstanding liabilities 486.44 

Poslai/e, Juhj 1. IS!)!, to .hive fiO, 1892. • 


Apju'opri.ition ))y Congress for the liscal year ending 3()tli .luue, 1892, 
"for postage stamps and foreign postal cards for the ^fational 
Museum " (sundry civil act, March 3, 1891) $.500. 00 


City post-office for jjostage and postal cards 500. 00 

A])propriation all expended .July 1, 1892. 

Prwl'mg, Jiilii /. 75.97, lo June SO, 1S92. 


Appropriation by (lougress for the tiscal year ending .June 
30, 1892, "for the Smithsonian Institution, for printing 
labels and blanks, and for the 'Bulletins' and volumes of 
the 'Proceedings' of the National Museum" (sundry civil 
act, March 3, 1891) tir., (lOO. (lO 

For the Smithsonian Institution, for printing for the use of 
the National Museum (deticiency act, March 3, 1891), not 
exceeding 1, 000. 00 


Bulletins Nos. 39, 40, 41, 42 $3, 639. 03 

Bulletin, special, No. 1 (in part) 1, 819.7.5 

Bulletin, special, No. 2 (in part) 427. 95 

5, 886. 73 

Proceedings, Vols, xiii, xiv, xv 2, 317. 96 

Extras from reports 310. 87 

Lists, etc 74. 46 

Labels for specimens 2. 023. 66 

Letter heads, memorandum ])ads, and envelopes 125. 14 

Blanks ;^60. 05 

Record books 37. 70 

Congressional Records 24. 00 

16, (too. (»0 

Total expenditure, .Inly 1, 1891, to June 30, 1892, for 

printing. National Museum 11, 160. 57 

Balance .Inly 1, 1892 4, 839. 43 



Ajtpropiiatioii by Congress "for rciuovinji tlie decayed wooden Hoora in 
tlie Mnsenni buildinj;-, .substitntinjf <j;ran(ditliie or artificial stone tliere- 
I'or, and for slate for eoveriny trendies containin";' heatinj^ and electric 
ai>))aratns, including' all necessai'v material and labor, to be iiruiiedi- 
atcly available." :|<.">, dOO. 00 


From Manli It, ISitl, to .lime :'-(), lS!t2 4, 474. ()4 

{balance ,liil\- I. 18!IL', to nu!et niifstaiiding lia])ilities .")2r>. ;{(! 

Ihilics on .lrli(lr'< hiijxirlcd for Xdiioiiol MiiHcinii. 

Ai)]»ro))riation by Congress '"Id meet custom duties on glass, tin, ami 
other dntiiible articles and su|)])lics imjiorted for the Cnited States 

National Museum'' 1, 000. 00 

Paid direct by Treasury DepavtnK'ut : 

Duty on glass $ti4i;. 7."> 

Duty on glass-to]) boxes 7. 2.'") 

Duty on glass l.'!tl . 75 


Halanee .July 1. i.S!l2 .-)S. 2.") 

I'nxrrrolioii of ( olli rlious. IS'JO, 

Halanee .Fuly 1, isyi, .is |m r last annual rejiort 14.!t2 

p:xi)enditures from .Inly 1, ISOl. to .June :!0, 1S!)2, freight 14.40 

Balance .July 1, l>!!t2 .52 

I'ri'.so-nilioii of Collrctioiis. ISUI. 

r.alance .Inly 1, 1,S!)1, as jier last aimiial re]>ort 7, !t7!t. IH* 

Exi)enditures from July 1, l«ll, to .June :;o, lS!t2: 
Salaries or com]tensation : 

1 assistant, 1 month, at ^W) $80. 00 

1 assistant, 1 month, at $(j5 65. 00 

I clerk, 2 mo. , at ^(JO 120. 00 

— $265. 00 

S])ecial or <-oiitract work 224. it.S 


Supplies l.()7!>. 37 

•Stationery 122. 54 

Specimens I. l<tl. 51 

Hooks 7()S. 15 

Tra V(d 273. 04 

Freight 4t)5. !I5 

Fxiicnditiire to .hiiie :;o, is:i2 7, OHO. 49 

289. .50 
Cr.. I>y disallowance on stationery 2. 08 

Halanee, .Inly 1, 1X92 291. .58 



Statement of Total Expcnditiire>i of the Appropriation for Preservation of Collections, 



For salaries I $117,300.52 

Tor supplies 

For stationery 

For specimens 

For travel 

For freight 

For books 


Balance . 

From July 1, 
1890, to June 

From July 1, 
1891, to June 
30, 1892. 

Total to June 
30, 1892. 


$489. 93 


3, 052. 32 


4, 131. 69 

1, 653. 02 

422. 54 




10, 402. 91 


273. 04 

1, 387. 82 

1, 862. 57 

465. 95 

2, 328. 52 

825. 40 



132, 020. 01 

7, 690. 49 

139, 710. 50 


289. 50 

2«9. 50 

291. 58 

Furniture and Fixtures. 1890. 

Balance J uly 1, 1891, a.s per last aimual report $0. 28 

Carried under the aitiou of Revised Statutes, section 3090, liy the Treasury De- 
])artmeut to the credit of the surplus fund, June 30, 1892. 

Furniture and fixtures, 1891. 

Balance July 1, 1891, as per last annual report $3, 690. 54 

Expenditures from July 1, 1891. to June 30, 1892: 

Exhibition cases '^^- 118.00 

Drawers, trays, etc 




Cloth, etc 

Glass j ars 


Faints, oil, and brushes. 

Office furniture 

Tin, lead, etc 

Rubber goods 

Travelling expenses 

Total expenditure . . 
Balance July 1, 1892 

43. .•SO 
397. 91 

23. 8.5 


723. 76 

737. 65 

52. 77 
316. 70 


2. 85 

3, 688. 19 




Sl<(triiinil of lolal csiiindititrv of appnipridlinii J'ur l'i(niili(ie iiiiil fi .r t iinn , IS'Jl. 


Exhibition casi'S. 

DcsigDs and drawings 
Drawers, trays, boxes 

Frames, stands, etc 




Cloth, cotton, etc 

Glass jars 


Paints, oil, and brushc 

Office furniture 


Rubber goods 

Iron brackets 


Travelling expenses... 

j Total 


Prom July 1, From .Inly], 
1890, to June ' 1891 , to .1 uiic , ' "?;'' }" 
:!0,1891. :id,189-J. J'i""-iU-l>'9^ 


:v\ U 


iO, 1892. 
















919. 55 



$14, 212. 52 


212. 52 



413. 00 

3(i. 00 
448. 08 

30. 00 

4:!. 50 


330. 52 
054. ,50 


330. 52 


352. 47 

707. 13 


919. 55 

73. 07 

23. S5 

97. 52 

108. 03 




723. 76 

785. 08 


737. 65 



5()5. 40 

52. 77 

018. 17 

588. 22 


904. 92 

268. 48 

42. 40 

310. 88 

105. 04 


110. 92 

87. 10 

87. 10 

84. 50 

84. 50 







3. 688. 19 


997. 05 

3, 090. 54 



Hcalinij (IikI li</htiiiij, etc.. LSUU. 

Balance July 1, 1S91, as per last annual report $1. 85 

Carii<'<l under the aotiou t)f Revised Statutes, .section 3000, l)y the Treasury De- 
partment to the credit of the surplus I'und, .June I'.O, 1892. 

Hi(ttih<i. lif/hiiiififiJeilric. kikI Iclcphonic Kervicc, 1,S91. 

Balane-e .Inly 1, l!S91, as jier last annual report $842.34 

Exi>en(litures from July 1, 1891, to June 30, 1892: 

Coal and wood $46. 20 

Gas 74.75 

Telephones 200. 25 

Electrify work 32. 75 

Electrics sui)plies 384. 95 

IJental of call hoxes 20. 00 

lleatini^ sui)i>lies 81. 79 

Total ex]>eiidit ure 840. 69 

lialance .liily !, 1892 1.65 



Statement of total ej:j)eii<lititrc of apprupriation for heating, Ih/litinf/, etc. 

1S91, $12,000. 


Coal and wood 



Electric work 

Electric supplies . . - . 
Rental of call boxes. . 

Heating- repairs 

Heatiujj; supplies 

Travelling expenses. 



From July 1, 

1890, to June 

30, 1891. 

$5, 084. 91 

2, 766. 96 


604. 40 


905. 68 

100. 00 

448. 95 


From July 1, 


30, 1892. 

Total to 
J une 30, 1892. 


200. 25 
32. 75 

384. 95 
20. 00 


. 157. 66 
842. 34 

840. 69 

$5, 084. 91 


1, 308. 59 

804. 65 


1, 290. 63 

120. 00 

530. 74 



Postage — National Museum, 1889-90. 

Balance July 1, 1891 $500. 00 

Carried under the action ot Revised Statntes, section 3090, l)y the Treasnry De- 
partment to the credit of the .surplus fund, June 30, 1892. 


Onjanization. Improvement, maintenanee. 


Balance July 1, 1891 $23, 441. 84 

EXPENDITUKES FROM Jl'I.Y 1, 1891, TO JUNE 30, 1892. 

Shelter of animals $1, 249. 96 

yiielter-barns, cages, fences, etc 312. 73 

Artificial ponds, etc 1, 032. 98 

Water supply, sewerage, and drainage (5, 342. 86 

Roads, walks, and bridges 4, 75.5. 81 

Miscellaneous supplies 867. 53 

Current expenses 7, 101. 63 

21, 663. 50 
Balance July 1, 1892 . . . . , 1, 778. 34 

Stateinent of the total expenditure of the appropriation for the /ooloe/ieal I'ark, act 

of April 30, 1890. 

From April 

30, 1890, to 

June 30, 1891 

From July 1, 

1891, to June 

30, 1892. 

Total to June 
30, 1892. 


8, 643. 33 
2, 000. 00 
657. 14 
10, 244. 19 
29, 149. 62 

$1, 249. 96 
312. 73 

$14, 925. 21 
8, 956. 06 
2, 000. 00 
1, 089. 14 
7. 000. 00 
15. 000. 00 
5. 000. on 

Shelter-barns, cages, fences, etc 


6, 342. 80 

4, 755. 81 

867. 53 

\V.ater supply, sewerage, and drainage. 

7,101.63 1 :!6. 2.51.25 


68, 558. 16 

21,663.50 1 *90. 221.66 



liniJdiniis. ISO:.'. 

Appropriation Ijy ("oimrt'ss •• for erect in t;' and i'e|iaiiin,i;' Imildiii^s and 
iuclosures lor aniinal.siintl for a<lniinistrat ive pnrjioses in tlie National 
Zotjlogical Park, iueluding' salaries or eompensat ion of all necessary 
employes, eighteen tlionsand dollars'" (snndiy civil act, March ;>, 

1891) $1S, 0(KI. (»i) 

Kxpendihires from July 1. IXIU, to June ."O, !.S;ii>: 

Fencing *I<tT. 50 

Fuel l.i^t) 

(Uass, paiuts, oils, etc 2'21. 10 

Hardware, tools, etc 1, 2IH. !»,S 

Heating a]>})aratiis I!, ola. 00 

Lumber '^. ^ys.',. 1 1 

Miscellaneous n:'>. 1 o 

Plans, drawings, etc ^u~>. 00 

Salaries or compensation >^. <•- 1 • •>- 

Stone, brick, lime, cement a-!^- •"' 

17, 7()S. in 

Ikilance .Inly 1, 1S92 I'Jl.r.l 

1 hijirorfiiii'iit-s, /S!/ .'. 

Appropriation by Congress '-for continuing the construction of roads, 
walks, bridges, water supply, sewi'rage, and drainage, and for grad- 
ing, planting, and otherwise imjjroving the grounds of the National 
Zoological Park, iuiduding salaries or compensation of all necessary 
employes, lifteeu thousand dollars" (sundry civil act, March :!, ISltl.) ].">, 000.00 
Expenditures from July 1, ISO!, tn .June :;o, ISOl': 

Building bridge (cont ra<t ) +1. 712. .">0 

Huildiug material .Ml. 17 

Freight ' 74.00 

Hardware 17.20 

Lumber 333. Oit 

Salaries or coni))ensation N, i^!l. SI 

Settees, etc 1^0. 00 

Sui)plies «1. 95 

Surveying, plans, and drawings 2. 9(il. 79 

Tools and implements 173. 77 

Travelling exi)euses, etc (iS. ")0 

Trees, ])lauts, and fertilizers 279. sr> 

11,S7X. 1)6 

I'.alance .luly 1, lSlt2 121. lil 

MiiiiitciKtiKc, ISO J. 

A])propriation by Congress •• for care, subsistence, and trans- 
l)ortation of anituals for the National Zoillogical Park, and 
lor the purchase of rare sjiecimeus not otherwise obtain- 
able, including salaries or compcnsatir)n of all necessary 
emi)loy('s, and general incidental (^x})euses not otiierwise 
provided for, seventeen thousand live hundred dollars, 
one-half of which sum shall be paid from the revenues of 
the Districtof t!olund)ia and the other half from the Treas- 
ury of the rnite<l States" (sumlry civil act, March 3, 
1891.) +17, oOO. 00 

.$18. .oOO. 00 

263. 12 

■S, 738. 12 

222. 91 

76. 05 

33. 14 

27. .50 

394. 22 


For care and subsistence of animals for the National Zo- 
ological Park, iiscal year eighteen hundred and ninety-two, 
one thousand dollars, one-half of which sum shall be paid 
from the revenues of the District of Columbia and the 
other half from the Treasury of the United States (de- 
ficiency act, March 8, 1892) .' $1, 000. 00 

Expenditures from .July 1, 1891, to June 30, 1892: 

Coal and wood 

Food for animals 

Freight and hauling 

Hardware, etc 



Miscellaneous expenses 

Salaries or compensation 10, 984. 12 

Stationery and ]trii)ting 72. 77 

Specimens 1, 301. 55 


Balance, .July 1, 1892 1, 386. 50 


Balance, July 1, 1891 $22, .585. 77 

EXPENDITURES FROM JULY 1, 189], TO .lUNE 3(1, 189-_'. 

Building material, lime, cement, etc $230. 47 

Copiier gutters. Hashing, etc 545. 65 

Class - ^ 305. 71 

Hardware 136. 66 

Iron roof and ceiling (contract) 4, 663. 12 

Lumber 230. 67 

Miscellaneous 19. 25 

Plastering (contract) 2, 176. 50 

Services, carpenters, painters, laborers, etc 1, 490. 01 

Slate- work (contract) 603. 65 

Window sash, etc •^-•^- O*^* 

10, 724. 69 

Balance July 1, 1892 11, 861. 08 



Appropriation by Congress "for maintenance of Astro-Physical Observ- 
atory under the direction of the Smithsonian Institution, including 
salaries of assistants and the purchase of additional apparatus" (sun- 
dry civil act, March 3, 1891) ^^^^> 000. 00 

ExpeudUureHfrom JuJii 1, IS'Jl, io Jiivr 3f), 1S9.3. 

Salaries or compensation: 

1 senior assistant, 7} months, at $200 $1, 500. 00 

1 astronomer, 1 month, at $180, $180; 11^ days, 

at $180 per month, $66.77 246. 77 


Siil.nirs or coiiipt'iisation — Contiinicd. 

1 iissistaut, 10 days, at $!(!().()() per month $55.55 

1 a.ssistant, 1 mouth, at $60, ${iO; 17 days, at $60 

per iiionth, $32.90; U months, at $83.33 per 

mouth, $124.!t9; days, at $83.33 per month, 

$25 242, 89 

1 aid, 3 months, at $45, $1.S5; 30 days, at $15 

per mouth, $43.55 178. .55 

1 photographer, 1 month, at $1.58.33, $1.58.33; 16 

days, at $158.33 per month, $81.72; 15 days, at 

$158.33 per month, $76.61 316. (i6 

1 photograidier, 1 mouth, at $150 150. 00 

1 instrnraeut-makev, 9^ days, at $60 per month, 

$47.42; 157i hours, at25 cents per hour, .$39.38. 56.80 

1 draftsman, 246 hours, at 60 cents per hour 147. 60 

1 carpeuter, 3| days, at $3 per day 10. 50 

1 carpenter, li mouths, at$91permonth,$136..5(); 

lU days, at $91 per mouth, $33.76 170. 26 

1 lal>orer, 3 mouths, at $.50 per montli, $150; 4 

months, at $60 month, $240 390. 00 

Total salaries or comjx'nsation $3, 465. 58 

General expenses : 

Apparatus and apj)liauces 3, 841. 42 

Electric work 280. 50 

Freight 41 . 57 

Miscellaneous supplies 480. 80 

Ottice furniture 29. 75 

Painting. 8. 00 

Plumbing and gas-fitting 26. 70 

Printing Idanks, etc 18.00 

Reference books and binding 119.19 

.Skylight 145. 00 

Travelliug expenses 87. 10 


Total ex])eiiditures, Astro-Physical Observatory .$8, 843. 61 

Ba]au<e July 1, 1892 1,1,56.39 


The total amount of funds administered by the Institution during the year end- 
ing June 30, 1892, ai)]>ears from the foregoing statements and the account books to 
have been as follows: 

Sill ilhsonid II Inntiliitiou . 

From balance of last y«'ar, J uly 1, 1891 $40, 062. 11 

( Includiug cash from executors of Dr. J. H. Kidder $5, 000. 00 
Jucluding cash from gift of Dr. Alex. Ciraham Bell) 5, 000. 00 


From interest on Smithsonian fund for the year 44,481.36 

From sales of publications 378. 24 

I'rom re-payments for freight, etc 2, 595. 99 

From Thomas G. Hodgkins 200,000.00 

Total $287, 517. 70 


Appropi'mtiottH comitiUled hij ('omjrcsx lo the (((re of the luatitiiiioii. 

Interuatioual exchanges — Smitbsouiaii Institution : 

From appropriation for 1891-'92 $17, 000. 00 

North American Ethnology : 

From balance of last year (1890-'91 ), .1 nly 1. 1S91 $12, 771. 2-1 

From appropriation for 1891-'92 r>0. 000. 00 

ti2, 774. 24 

Preservation of collections — Museum : 

From balance of 1889-90 14. 92 

From balance of 1890-'91, July 1, 1891 7, 979. 99 

From appro])riation for 1891-'92 145, 000. 00 

1 52, 994 . 9 1 

Printing — Museum : 

From balance of 1889-'90 64. 55 

From balance of 1890, .1 uly 1 , 1891 1, 064. 65 

From appropriation for 1891-92 16, 000. 00 

17, 129. 20 

Furniture and fixtures — Museum: 

From balance of 1889-90 .28 

From balance of 1890-'91, July 1, 1891 3, 691 54 

From appropriation for 1891-'92 25, 000. 00 

28, 690. 82 

Heating, lighting, etc. — Museum: 

From balance of 1889-'90 1. 85 

From balance of 1890-'91, .July 1 , 1891 842. 34 

From appropriation for 1891-'92 15, 000. 00 


Postage — Museum : 

From balan(;e of 1889-'90 500. 00 

From appropriation for 1891-'92 500. 00 

1, 000. 00 

Building — National Museum : 

From appropriation for 1891-'92 5, 000. 00 

Duties on articles imported for National Miisenni: 

From appropriation for 1891-'92 1, 000. 00 

National Zocilogical Park : 

From balance of 1889-'90, J uly 1, 1891 23, 4 1 1. 84 

From api)ropriation for 1891-'92 50, 500. 0< ) 


Smithsonian Institution building, repairs: 

From balance of appropriation, .Inly 1, 1891 22, 585. 77 

Astro-Physical Observatory — Smithsonian Institntion : 

From appropriation 1891-'92 10. 000. 00 


Smithsonian Institntion $287, 517. 70 

Exchanges 17, 000. 00 

Ethnology 62, 774. 24 

Preservation of collections 152, 994. 91 

Furniture and fixtures 28. 690. 82 

Heating and lighting 1.5. 844. 19 

Postage 1, 000. 00 

Printing 17. 129.20 

Building, National Museum 5, 000. 00 

Duties on articles for National Museum 1, 000. 00 

Zoological park 73, 941. 84 

Smithsonian building, repairs 22, 585. 77 

Astro-Physical Observatory 10, 000. 00 

695, 478. 67 


Tlic coimiiittce has examined the vouchers lor ])aymeiit from tlie 
Smitlisoniaii iiieome (liiriii«i tlie year eii(liii,u- June -lO, ISDU, each ol' 
which hears the ai)])ro\al of the Se(!retary or, in his absence, of the 
Acting Secretary, and a certificate that tlie materials and services 
charged were a]>i»hed to the i)uri)oses of the Institution. 

Tlie committee has also examined the accounts of the several appro- 
priations committed by Congress to the Institution, and finds that the 
balances hereinbefore given corres])Oiid with the certificates of the dis- 
bursing clerk of the Smithsoniau Institution, whose appointment as 
such disbursing oftieer was accepted and his bonds approved by the 
Secretary of the Treasury. 

The rpiarterly accounts-current, the vouchers, and Journals have 
l)eeu examined and found correct. 

As stated in the last annual rep(nt of the committee, the balance of 
the appropriation for last year for ethnological researches (Bureau of 
Ethnology) was continued in the hands of the disbursing clerk of the 
Bureau (Mr. J. 1). McChesney). This balance having since been tully 
disbursed by him and the appropriation for ethnological researches for 
the present year as well as the apjiropriation for the Astro-Physical 
Observatory having been added to those already in the hands of the 
disbursing clerk of the Institution (Mr. William W. Karr), all the ap- 
propriations committed by Congress to the care of the Institution are 
now disbursed by the disbursing clerk of the Smitlisouian Institution, 
excepting the appropriation for "printing, National Museum," which 
is executed under the direction of the Public Printer (Revised Statutes, 
section 300 1 ). 

Sl((lc)ut'iit of rc(/iil(ir hiconic from ilic Smitlisouian fund iircilohlc for use iu the year 

endiuij .hnie 30, JS!>.1. 

BalaiK-e on hand June 30, 1892 .^17. 87;"). 3:5 

(Intluding the cash from executors of I »v. .1. II. Kidder sjif., 000. 00 

Including the cash from Dr. Alex, (haliani I'.elj) f), 000. 00 

10, 000. 00 

Interest due and receivable July 1, IsOi' 27,000.00 

Interest due and receivable .laiui.iry 1, 1803 27. 000. 00 

= 51,180.00 

Total availal)le for year endinj;- .Iniic 30, 180:> 102, Of):';. 33 

Respectfully suhmilte<l. 


ITenuy Coppee, 
,1. r.. Henderson, 

I-J.vcciiti re ( 'oin in ittie. 
Washincjton. I). (-., Aoretiiljcr is, JS!):J. 


(Ill foiitinnntioti from pi-oAioiis K'cjKirts.) 

[Kitt,v-s»>cou(l ('oii.<;ress. first sossion, ISid, 18!t2.J 


Joint Kksoijiion [No. 2] to fill vafaiicies in the Board of Regents of the Siuitli- 

souiau Institution. 

Reftolved btj the tSenute and Jlotisc of Keprcseutatirr.s of the United 
States of America, in Congress assembled^ That the vacancies iu the 
Board of Kej;ents of the Smithsonian Institution, of the class other 
tlian members of Con,uress sliall be tilled by the appointment of Wil- 
liam I'reston Johnston, of Louisiana, iu ]»lace of Noah Porter, of Con 
necticut, resijiiied, and the appointment of .lohn 15. Henderson, a citizen 
of the District of Columbia, in place of Montgomery C. INIeigs, (b'ceased, 
and by the rea])pointment of Henry Coppee, of Pennsylvania, whose 
term of office exi)ired on December twenty-sixth, eighteen huiidi«Ml and 
ninety-one. (Approved January 2(), 18!)i;.) 

War Department. — liidldint/s and (iroiinds: For imi)rovcment, ]nain- 
tenance and care; of Smithsonian Grimnds, including construction of 
asphalt roads and paths, live thousand dollars. (Sundry civil appro- 
l)riation act. Cha]). .'^80. Statutes, p. 375. Ai)proved August o, 1802.) 


For expenses of the system of international exchanges between the 
Ignited States and foreign countries, under the direction of the Smith- 
sonian Institution, including salaiies or compensation of all necessary 
employees, tw«^lvc thousand dollars. (Sundry civil appro})riation act. 
-cha]). '380. Statutes ]).3(>0. A i)provcd August T), 18!>L'.) 

Treaxury Department : To pay amounts found due i)y the accounting 
officers of the Treasury on account of interimtional exchange, Smith- 
sonian Institution, being for the service of the fiscal year eighteen 
liuudred and ninety, as follows: 

To i>ay the Baltimore and Ohio liailroad (company, sixty-seven cents. 
(Dclicicncies appropriation act, cha[). 31 1. Statutes, ]). 283. Ai)proved 
July 28, 18U2.) 

Library of (Jon For (>om|)ensation of Tiibrarian, [etc. | * * 
eight assistant libraiians, at one thousand four hundred dollars each, 
one of whom shall be in chaige of international exchanges. 

* * * For ex))cnses of exchanging ])ublic documents for the 
jtublications of foreign governments, one thousand IInc hundred dollars. 
(Legislative, executive, and judicial act. Chaj). UMI, Statutes, p. 18!>. 
Appr(»ve<l July 1<>, 18!>2.) 



Depart))) cnf of the hiterior — United ^States Potent Offi,ee: For purchase 
of professional and scientific books, and expenses of transporting- i)ub- 
lications of patents issued by the Patent Office to foreign governments, 
two thousand five hundred dollars. (Legislative, executive, and 
judicial act. Chap. 190, Statutes, p. 215. Approved July 16, 1892.) 

W a)' Department: For the transportation of reports and maps to 
foreign countries through the Smithsonian Institution, one hundred 
dollars. (Sundry civil appropriation act, Chap. 380. Statutes, p. 378, 
Apjuoved August 5, 1892.) 

Naval OhseriHitory: For repairs [etc., J * * * freight, including 
transmission of pul)li<' documents through the Smithscmian exchange. 
[etc. I two tliousand live hundred dollars, (Legislative, executive and 
Jndicial act, Cliap. 190, Statutes, p. 211. Approved July 10, 1892.) 

V. S. (feol(H/ieal ^SKnu)/: For the purchase of necessary books, for the 
library, and the payment for the transmission of public documents 
through tlie Smithsonian exchange, two thousand dollars. (Sundry 
Civil ajjpropriation act, chap. 380. Statutes, d. 371. Apjjroved Au- 
gnst 5, 1892.) 

natiojNtal museum. 

For continuing the preservation, exhibition, and increase of the col- 
lection from the surveying and exploring expeditions of the Govern- 
ment, and from other sources, including salaries or compensation of all 
necessary employees, one hundred and tliirty-two thousand five hun- 
dred dollars. 

For cases, furniture, fixtures, and ajtpliances required for the exhi- 
bition and safekeeping of the collections of the National Museum, in- 
cluding salaries or com])ensation of all necessary employees, fifteen 
thousand dollars. 

For cx]>ense of heating, lighting, electrical, telegraphic and telephonic 
service for tlie Ts'ational Museum, eleven thousand dollars. 

For ]>ostage stamps and foreign postal cards for the National Mu- 
seum, five hundi'ed dollars. (Sundry civil appropriation act, chap. 380. 
Statutes, ]). 3<>0, Approved August 5, 1892.) 

Treasnri/ Department. — To pay amounts found due by the accounting 
officers of the Treasury on account of preservation of collections. 
National Museum, being for the services of the fiscal year eighteen 
hundred and ninety, as follows: 

To pay the Baltimore and Ohio Eailroad Company, four dollars and 
forty-seven cents; to pay the Atlantic and Pa<'ific Eailroad Company, 
two dollars and fifty cents; in all, six dollars and ninety-seven cents. 
(Deficiencies a])propriation act. Chap. 311. Statutes, p. 283. Ap- 
proved July 28, 1892.) 

Pnhiie Fri)itr)ig and Bmding. — For the Smithsonian Institution, for 
l>rinting labels and blanks and for the '^ Bulletins" and annual vol- 
unu'S of the "Proceedings" of the National Museum, twelve thousand 
dollars. (Sundry civil appropriation act. Chap. 380. Statutes, p. 
388. Ap[)roved August 5, 1892.) 

Joint RESOLmoN [No. 8,] to cncouriige the estiiblislmieiit and eiidownient of 
institutions of leiiriiiu<>- at the national capital by detinin.i;' the poli(>y of the Gov- 
pinnicut with reference to the use of its literary and scientific collections by 

Whereas, large collections illustrative of the various arts and scien- 
ces and facilitating literary and scientific research have been accu- 
mulated by the action of Congress through a series of years at the 
national capital; and 


WImmojis it WJ1S tlie oriiniiial jturposo of llie (lovin-imiciit tlicrcln- to 
pioniote researcli and the dittusioii of kiiowled.uc, and is now the set- 
tled ])oli('y and i>i(\><(Mit practice of those cliar,ii('d witli tlie care of 
these collections si)ecially to encouraii'c students who devote their 
time to the investiiiation and study of any branch of knowledjic by 
allowinji' to them ail proper use thereof; and 

Whereas it is represented tliat tlie enumeration of these facilities 
and the formal statement of this policy will encouraiie the establish- 
uieut and endowment of institutions of learnin.u' at the seat of (^o\-ern- 
ment, and ])romote the work of education by attracting: students to 
avail tliemselves of the advantages aforesaid uiuler the direction of 
competent iustrnctors: Therefore, 

h'csolrcd by Ihe Senate and House of Hepresentatlven of the United 
tSf((fes of America, i)t Congress assembled, That the facilities for research 
and illustration in the following- and any other Governmental collec- 
tions now existing' or hereafter to be established in the city of Wash- 
ington for the i>romotion of knowledge sliall be accessible, under such 
rules and restrictions as the otticers in charge of each collection may 
l)rescribe, subject to such authority as is now or nmy hereafter be ]>er- 
niitted by law. to the seientitic investigators and to students of any 
institution of higher education now incori)orated or hereafter to be in- 
cori)orated under the hnvs of Congress or of the District of Columbia, 
to wit : 

(^ne. Of the Library of Congress. 

Two. Of the National ^Museum. 

Three. Of the J*atent Oftice. 

l-'our. Of the Bureau of Education. 

V\\v. Of the Bureau of h^thnology. 

Six. Of the Army ^ledical ]\Iuseum. 

Se\en. Of the Depaitment of Agricnlttire. 

Eight. Of the I'^ish Commission. 

Nine. Of the Botanic (Tardens, 

Ten. Of the Coast and (Jeodetic Survey. 

Eleven. Of the (Jeological Sur\ey. 

Twehe. Of the Naval ObservatorA'. 

(Approved, April 12, 18\)2.) 


l''or continuing- ethnological researches among the American Indians, 
under the direction of the Smithsonian Institution, including salaries 
or coin])ensation of all necessary emi)loy<'es, forty thousand dollars. 
{Sundry civil a])pi-o])riati(m act. Chaj*. oSO. Statutes, j). .'JdO. Ap- 
proved August 5, 1S9L*.) 


For maintenanc(M>f astro-physical observatory, under the dii-ection 
of the Smithsonian Institution, including salaries of assistants, appa- 
ratus, and miscellaneous expenses, ten thousand dollars. (Sundry civil 
appropriations act. Chap. 380, Statutes, j). ;;0(). Appnn'cd August 5, 


lM)r continuing the constiucti(»n ol roads, walks, bridges, water sup- 
ply, sewerage, and drainage; and for grading, |)lanting, and otherwise 
improving the grounds; erecting, and rej)airing l)uildings ami incdos- 


iires for animals; and for administrative purposes, care, subsistence, 
and transportation of animals, including salaries or compensation of 
all necessary enii)loyees, and general incideDtal expenses not otherwise 
jirovided for, fitty thousand dollars, one-half of which sum shall be 
paid from the revenues of the District of Columbia and the other half 
froni the Treasury of the United States; and a report in detail of the 
expenses on account of the National Zoological Park shall be made to 
Congress at the beginning of each regular session. (Sundry civil ap- 
IH'opriation act. Chap. o80. Statutes, j). oCIO. Approved August 5, 

For care and subsistence of animals for the National Zoological Park, 
fiscal year eighteen hundred and ninetytwo, one thousand dollars, one- 
half of which sum shall be paid from the revenues of the ])istrict of 
Columbia, and the other half from the treasury of the United States. 
(Deficiency appropriation act. Chap, lli, Statutes, p. (i. Approved 
March 8, 1802.) 

To pay Melville Lindsay for rubber boots furnished to employees 
engaged to work in water in the National Zoological Park, being a 
deficiency for the fiscal year eighteen hundred and ninety-one, thirty- 
eight dollars. (Deficiencies appropriation act. Chap. 311. Statutes, 
p. 284. Approved July 28, 18!>2.) 

world's (T)LITMBIAN exposition at CHICAGO. 

Treasury Dcparimenf: For the selection, j^urchase, preparation, 
transportation, installation, care and custody, and arrangement of su<'h 
articles and materials as the heads of the several Executive Depart- 
ments, the Smithsonian Institution, and National Museum, and the 
United States Fish Commission may decide shall be end^raced in the 
Government exhibit, and such additional articles as the President may 
designate for said Exi^osition, and for the employment of proper per- 
sons as officers and assistants to the Board of Control and Manage- 
ment of the Government exhibit, ai)i)ointed by the President, of which 
not exceeding five thousand dollars nuiy be expended by said Board for 
clerical services, four hundred and eight thousand two hundred and 
fifty dollars: rrorided That all expenditures for the pur])oses and from 
the approi)riation specified herein shall be subject to the approval of 
the said Board of Control and Management and of the Secretary of 
the Treasury, as now^ provided by law. (Sundry civil a])propriation 
act. Chap. 380. Statutes, p. 302. Approved August 5, 1892.) 


State Department: Vox the expense of representation of the United 
States at the Columbian Historical Exposition to be held in Madrid m 
eighteen hundred and ninety-two in commemoration of the four hun- 
dredth aniversary of the discovery of America, fifteen thousand dol- 
lars, or so much thereof as may be necessary, to be expended under 
tiie direction and in the discretion of the Secretary of State: and the 
President is hereby authorized to appoint a cominissioner-gcneral and 
two assistant commissioners, who may, in his discretion, be selected 
from the active or retired list of the Army or Navy, and shall serve 
without other compensation than that to which they are now entitled 
by law, to represent the United States at said exposition; that it shall 
be the duty of such commissioners to sc^lcc t froin the archives of the 
United States, from the National JMuseum. and from the various execu- 

ACTS AND lli;S()LUT10NS OF ('()N(iliESS. XLIX 

live dcpartmeDts of tbe Government such ])i<'tiiios, books, papers, 
(locnin«'nts, and other articles as may relate to the discoxery and earl> 
scttlcnicnt of America and the abori.iiinal inhabitants thereof; and 
tiicy shall be authorized to secure the loan of simihir articles from 
<»ther museums and private collections, and airanj;e, classily, and in- 
stall them as the exhibit of the ITnited States at the said exjjosition; 
that tlie President is authorized to cause the detail of ofticers from the 
active or retired list of the Army and Navy, to serve without comi»en- 
sation other than that to which they are now entitled bylaw, as assist- 
ants to said connnissioners; and tlie said commissioners shall be au- 
thorized to employ such clerical and other assistance as may be neees 
sary, subject to the approval of the Secretary of State. (Deliciencies 
ai)proi)riation act, Chap. 72, Statutes, p. :>4. Approved IMay 13, 1802.) 
IStafc Drpaytment: For exi)enses of representation of the United 
States at said exposition, ten thousand dollars. (Sundry civil apju'o 
priatiou act, Chaji. .'JSlj, Statutes, p. .'!.■)(). Ai)proved August 5, 18*.>2.) 
H. Mis. 114 iv 



To the Board of Rc(jenU of the Smithsonian Institntion : 

Gentlemen: I have the honor to submit herewith iny report for the 
year ending' June 30, l<S!>i!, of the operations of the Smithsonian Insti- 
tution, inehulini;- the work phieed by Congress under its eluirge in the 
National Museum, the Bureau of Ethnology, the International Ex- 
ehanges, the National Zoological Park, and the Astro-Physical Observ- 

blatters of general interest have been treated of in the body of the 
report, while in the Ai)pendix will he found detailed reports on the 
more important sul)divisions of the work of the Institution, namely: 
the Bureau of Ethnology, the Bureau of International Exchanges, the 
Library, the National Zoological Park, the Astro-Physical Observatory^, 
and the PMitor in charge of Publications. 

The work of the National Museum is reported on at length in a sep- 
arate volume by the Assistant Secretary in charge. 



• I have to record the foHowing changes in the Establishment during 
the year: The resignation of the Hon. -lames G. Blaine, Secretary of 
State, on June 4, 18!>2, and the appointment of his successor to the 
Secretaryship, the Hon. John W. Foster; the resignation of the Hon. 
Kedlield Proctor, Secretary of War, on December (I, 181)1, and the ap- 
])oiutment of his successor, the Hon. Stephen B. Elkius; and the resig 
nation of the Hon. ('harles 10. Mitchell, Commissioner of Patents, on 
-Inly .il, 18!)1, and the appointment of the Hon. William 1"^. Simonds as 
his successor. 


In accordance with a resolution of the Board of liegents ftxing the 
tiuic of the stated annual meeting of tlie lioard on the fourth Wednes- 

H. Mis. 114 1 1 


day of January in each year, tlie Board met on January 27, 1892, at 10 
o'l'lock A. M. The journal of its proceedings will be found as usual in 
its annual report to Congress, but for convenience reference is also here 
made later to a portion of its action. 

A special meeting of the Board of Kegents was held on October 21, 
1891, at which a gift of $200,000 from Mr. Thomas Gr. Hodgkins, of Se- 
tauket, Long- Island, was formally accepted; and another was held on 
March 29, 1892, to take action regarding certain Congressional appro- 

The following changes in the personnel of the Board of Kegeuts are 
to be noted: The appointment of the Hon. W. C. P. Breckinridge, of 
the House of Representatives, by the Speaker of tha House {pro tem- 
pore), January 15, 1892, to succeed the Hon. Benjamin ButterAvorth, 
whose term expired December 23, 1891 ; the appointment, by joint reso- 
lution of Congress, approved January 26, 1892, of President Williara 
Preston Johnston, of Tulane University, Louisiana, to succeed Dr. 
ISToah Porter, Avho resigned December 31,1889; and the appointment, 
by the same resolution, of the Hon. John B. Henderson, of the District 
of Columbia, to succeed Gen. M. 0. Meigs, who died January 2, 1892. 

The following have been re-appointed to fill vacancies caused by the 
expiration of their own terms : The Hon. Justin S. Morrill, of the United 
States Senate, l)y the Vice-President of the United States, December 
15, 1891, the Hon. Joseph Wheeler, and the Hon. Henry Cabot Lodge, 
of the House of Representatives, by the Speaker {2)ro tempore) of the 
House, January 15, 1892, and Dr. H-enry Coppee, by joint resolution 
of Congress approved January 20, 1892. 

The Board has suffered the loss by death of Gen. Montgomery C. 
Meigs on Januiiry 2, 1892. Dr. ISToah Porter, an ex-member of the 
Board, died on March 4, 1892. lleference is made to them elsewhere in 
the necrologic notices. 


I beg to repeat the recommendation contained in my report of last 
year, that Congress be requested to make some provision for meeting 
the actual expenses of the administration of the affairs of the General 
Government confided to the Institution. There is no such provision 
now for the considerable and increasing clerical expenses, which belong 
not to any single Government bureau under its care, but to the charge 
of their common administration, and these expenses all fall ultimately 
upon the Institution. 

Another difficulty arising out of the great extension of the interests 
under the care of the Regents, which makes the duties of the Secretary 
and the Assistant Se(iretary altogether different from what they were 
in its early history, has been calling for relief for some time, and has 
finally been met by appropriate action of the Board; for, apart from the 
need of a Congressional appropriation which shall i^rovide for the 


increased expenses of tlie clerical force in the Secretary's office engaged 
in transacting- purely (lox-ernnient business, I luive directed the atten- 
tion of the Regents to the fact that the Chancellor of the Institution 
(in whom alone the power of appointing an Acting Secretary is v^'sted 
by law) may be absent when the Acting Secretary is ill and when 
there is no one to relieve him. Such a case has actually ]U'esented 
itself, directing attention to the necessity of authorizing the Secretary 
to delegate authority for performing certain subordinate but indis- 
pensable functions, such as signing a certain class of papers. 

Owing to the established principles of concbict in the Smithsonian 
Institution (which there has been no intention of de])arting from) the 
Secretary's power has never been diffused or delegated even as far as 
is usual in the case of Executive Departments of the Government, 
where there are several persons in every separate bureau constituting a 
line of succession of those who are authorized, in case of the absence 
of its head, to carry on ordinary business and es[»ecially to sign all 
such routine papers as are required for its current business with the 
Treasury. There lias been no time however in the ])ast twelve years, 
when, in the joint event of the illness or absence of the Secretary and 
the Acting Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, any such provision 
has existed for carrying* on even the routine business. 

At the meeting of the Regents on January 27, 181)2, the following- 
resolution was introduced, and was duly given effect through the 
Executive Committee in the appointment of an ofticer of the Insti- 
tution to act according- to its provisions: 

'■'■Resolved, That the Secretary be empowered to a|)point some 
suitable person, who, in <'ase of need, may sign such re([uisitions. 
vouchers, abstracts of vouchers, accounts current, and indorsements of 
cliecks and drafts. ;t i are ueedtMl in the current business of tiie Institu- 
tion, or of any of its bureaus, and are customarily signed in the bureaus 
of other Departments of the Covernment." 


1 have recalled the fact that the gift of 1200,000 to the Institution by 
]\Ir.. Thomas Cr. Ilodgkins, of Setauket, Long Island, to which \ briefly 
refi'rred in my report of last year, was formally accepted by tin; Board 
of Regents at a special meeting held October 21, 181)1. 

At this meeting I stated that I had entered on a corresi)ondence 
with Mr. Hodgkins in which he had intimated his desire to give a 
considerable sum to the fund of the Smithsonian Instituti(m for the 
"increase and diffusion of knowledge among men," The c<u-respond- 
ence was followed by personal visits both by the Secretary and by the 
Assistant Secretary, the result of which was that Mr. Ilodgkins olfcred 
a donation of §200,000, concerning which the Secretary telegraphed 
the Regents on June 22. [Jpon being- advised of the individual 
approval of most of tlu^. Regents to the accei)tan(;e of the sum named, 
Mr. Ilodgkins later, on September 22, at his home on Long Island, 


gave the amoiiut in cash to the Secretary, Avho deposited it in the 
United States Treasury at Washington, witli the understanding that 
an early meeting of the Board woukl be called as a body to consider 
its acceptance. 

The essential conditions are that the income of !|10(),000 of this gift 
shall be permanently devoted to the increase and diffusion of more 
exact knowledge in regard to the nature and properties of atmos- 
pheric air in connection with the welfare of man; the income of the 
remaining >^1(U>,0()() being for the general purposes of the Institution, 

In view of the importance of the subject I Inive referred to it again 
later in the report, under a- distinct heading. 

I may call attention in this i)lace to the fact that the Smithsonian 
Institution is, by rea^oii of its far-reac-hing connection with the scien- 
tific world, enabled to make specially effective use of sums given for 
immediat(^ employment i)i specific pur})oses or investigations. A few 
such special trusts (distinct from those for adding to the permanent en- 
dowment) have been committed to the Institution in the past, through 
the Secretary, and yet I feel assured that, were the intentions of the 
Regents better understood in this regard, the Institution would much 
more frequently be made the medium for giving eft'ect to the plans of 
those interested in promoting specific researches, as well as in making 
permanent endowments. 

The i)ermanent funds of the Institution areas follows: 

Bequest of Smithsou. 1846 $515, 169. 00 

Residuary legacy of Smithsou, 1867 26, 210. 63 

Deposit from savings of income, etc. , 1867 108, 620. 37 

Beciuest of James llamiltou, 1875 1, 000. 00 

Bequest of Simou Habel, 1880 500. 00 

Deposit from proceeds of sale of Ijonds, 1881 51, 500. 00 

Hodgkins' gift, 1891 200, 000. 00 

Total permaueut Smitlisouiau fund iu the Treasury of the United 

States, bearing interest at 6 per cent, per annum $903, 000. 00 

At the beginning of the fiscal year the balance o]i hand was $40,062.11. 
Interest on the invested fund, amounting to '$I:4:,I81.3G, has been 
received from the Treasury of the United States during the year, and 
from sales of puldications and miscellaneous sources, including repay- 
ments on account of international exchanges, $2,974.23, making a total 
of $87,517.70. 

The total expenditures, as shown in detail in the rei)ort of the Execu- 
tive Committee, have been $39,ti42.o7, leaving an unexpended balance 
on June 30, 1892, of $47,875.33. This includes a sum of $10,000, the 
amount of a bequest of $5,000 from the late Dr. J. H. Kidder and a 
donation of a like amount from Dr. Alexander Graham Bell personally 
to the Secretary for physical investigations, which was, with the donors 
consent, deposited by the Secretary to the credit of the funds of the 
Institution, subject to order. Neither of these sums, then, forms a j)or- 


tioii of tli(^ iiivostcd funds, and hotli have Ixhmi held in the hope that 
Con<i,ress wouhl hiter provide a site for a permanent buihlin.n' for the 
Astro-Physical Observatory. The bahuice avaihible for the general 
inirposes of the Institution on July I, 1<S9l\ was •S'>7,S7.3..'v), but tlus is 
in large part held against various liabilities, fen- scientific pur[>oses. 

The Instituticni has been charged by Congress witli the disburse- 
ment during the year of the following appropriations: 

Forlut.M'u.itioiiiil Exchuu.ues $17,000 

For Etlinolopjioal Rosi-archcs 50,000 

For National Mnsoum : 

Preservation of collections 115, 000 

Furniture and fixtures 25,000 

Heatino- and li«liting- iri,000 

Postage ^ '. 500 

Flooring for Museum building 5,000 

Dut ies on artich^s i niported 1,000 

Piircbase of Capron Collection of .Tapauese Works of Art 10,000 

Printing 16,000 

For National Zoological Park : 

Improvements 15,000 

Buildings 18,000 

Maintenance 17,500 

For Astro-Physical Observatory 10,000 

To these should be added the small unexpended balance of the special 
api)ropriatioii of .i5i>2,000 made April 30, 1890, for the i^ational Zoolog- 
ical Parlj. 

The vouchers for the disbursement of these ai)propriations have been 
examined by the Executive Committee, and the various items of expen- 
diture are set forth in a letter addressed to the .Speaker of the House 
of Ile])resentatives, in accorda!H*-e with a provision of the Sundry Civil 
Act of October 2, 1888; while the expenditures from the Smithsonian 
fund have likewise been examined and ai)proved by the Executive 
Committee, and are shown in their report. 

J may call attention to the fact that the Secretary has been <lesirous 
to see a change in the phraseology of the Sundry Civil Act making ap- 
propriation for ethnological researches, which would relieve him from 
the ])ersojial responsil)ility imposed by the language of former bills. 
Such a change has now been made, whereby the appropriation is placed 
"under the direction of the SmitJisonian Institution," instead <>f in the 
charge of the '^ Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution," as heretofore, 
Th(^ vouchers from the Bureaii of l^thnology are therefore now scruti- 
nized by the Executive Committee, as are all other expenditures of the 

The estimates for the fiscal year (mding .June .'iO, 180;5, forwarded to 
the Secretary of the Treasury, under date of Octol)er 7, 1801, were as 
follows : 

Hnilding, Smithsonian Institution .$5. 000 

International Exclianges 17, 000 

North American Ethnology 50, 000 


National Museiim; 

Preservation of collections $145, 000 

Heating and lighting 12, 000 

Fnruitnre and fixtures 25, 000 

Printing and binding 18, 000 

Postage 500 

Duties on articles imported 1, 000 

Addition to electric-light plant 5, 000 

Galleries 8, 000 

National Zoological Park : 

Improvements 15, 000 

Buildings 18, 000 

Maintenance 17, 500 

Astro-Physical Observatory 10, 000 


I have repeatedly urged upon your atteution the necessity for more 
ample accommodatious for the rapidly increasing collections of the 
National Museum, a necessity that has been emphasized by the difli- 
culties attending the preparation for the Museum exhibit at the 
World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago and the Columbian Histori- 
cal Exposition in Madrid. 

In the light of past experience, it is not unreasonable to anticipate a 
large increase in the collecticms of the Museum in the shape of donations 
from exhibitors at tliese expositions, if any assurance can be given 
that such material will eventually be properly installed. If no such 
assurance can be given a great amount of material will be lost to the 
Institution, the value of which would, in my opinion, nearly equal the 
estimated cost of a new building for the Museum. 

The present Museum building was finished and occupied in 1881. 
The collections increased so rapidly that as early as 1883 the Regents, 
at their meeting of January 17, recommended to Congress the erection 
of a new building. 

Since 1883 the collections have again increased to such an extent 
that a new building as large as tlie present one could now be advan- 
tageously tilled with material held in storage, and I can only repeat 
with increased emphasis the closing sentence of my letter of January 
21, 1890, to the Hon. Leland Stanford, chairman of the Senate Com- 
mittee on Public Buildings and Grounds, " That unless more space is 
provided, the development of the Government collection, which is al- 
ready partly arrested, will be almost completely stopped." 

The Museum collections have overflowed into every part of the 
Smithsonian building, and special provisions have been made for them, 
beginning with the galleries long since erected in the main hall, not 
contemplated in the original plans of the building, and which seriously 
interfere with lighting the exhibition open to the public. The storage 
space of the Institution building needed for other purposes, is now also 
almost exclusively occupied by jVIuseum specimens, and some relief 
must be fouud. 


A bill providiiiii' for the orcctiou of a lire-prool' l)uikliii,ii' for the 
^STatioiialMusemn was introduced in the Senate by the lion. J. S. Mor- 
rill, and passed the Senates on A])i'il 1."), 18!»li, but failed to seeure 
favorable action in the House. 

The work of flre-proo ting- the so-called "chapel'' of the west wing- 
of the Smithsonian building; has been practically completed, and I 
would especially urge that the balance of this ap])ro))riation, unex- 
I)ended, by reason of a limiting clause introduced in the act, on account 
of which the money is not available for certain repairs originally con- 
templated, should be now made available by Congress for increasing 
the storage room in the east wing' of the building', and at the same 
time that certain rooms be fitted for the special needs of the Govern- 
ment Exchange Bureau, now occu])ying' rooms in the Main l>uilding, 
urgently needed for other purposes. 

The new buildings erected or in x>i'Ogress of erection for the collec- 
tion of living animals, being all in the Zoological Park, are mentioned 
in the report upon the park. 


In pursuance of the long established policy of the Institution, finan- 
cial aid has, during the past year, been extended to original investi- 
gators in the domain of science, and considering the modest sum that 
it has been found possible to devote to this purpose, the results are 

The subscripticm for twenty copies of the Astronomical Journal, 
which are distributed abroad as exchanges of the Institution, has been 

To the Lick Observatory, through its director. Prof. Holden, an addi- 
tional grant has been made for the continuance of experiments in lunar 

Prof. E. W. Morley is still engaged in his determinations of the 
density of oxygen and hydrogen, for which some special a])paratus has 
been jn'ovided by the Institution. 

Mention has been made in previous reports of the aid exteiuled to 
Prof. A. A. Michelson, of Clark University, in his experiments with the 
refractometer, and in tlu^. determination of a uiuversal standard of 
length founded on the wave length oi light. In furtherance of the 
latter project, the Institution will, during the coming summer, send one 
of its scientific staff to assist Prof. Michelson in his investigations 
under the auspices of the International Bureau of Weights and Meas- 
ures in the laboratory of the Bureau at Sevres, I 'ranee. 

T>oth these latter investigaticms refer to fundamental constants of 
nature, and their results promise to be of wide and lasting imi)ortance. 

Allusion was nmde in my last report to aid extended to Dr. Wolcott 
Gibbs in his investigations of the physiological action of chemical com- 


pounds. These investigations are now completed, and liave resulted 
in a substantial contribution to this branch of science. 

Astro-phy steal Observatory. — The Smithsonian Astro-physical Ob- 
servatory still occupies the temporary wooden shelter upon the grounds 
just south of the Smithsonian building, and the money given to the In- 
stitution for the erection of a more permanent building is still held 
while awaiting the action of Congress in providing a site. The ob- 
servatory has received much of my i^ersonal attention during the year. 

In statements to Congress and elsewhere some brief official expla- 
nation has been given of the object of this observatory, which, as it 
has not been explicitly given in previous reports, I repeat here in the 
most succinct manner before entering on any description of the special 

The general object of astronomy, the oldest of the sciences, was, un- 
til a very late period, to study the places and motions of the heavenly 
bodies, with little special reference to the Avants of man in his daily 
life, other than in the application of the study to the purposes of navi- 

Within the past generation, and almost coincidentally with the dis- 
covery of the spectroscope, a new branch of astronomy has arisen, 
which is sometimes called astro-physies, and whose purpose is distinctly 
different from that of finding the places of the stars, or the moon, or the 
sun; which is the i)rincipal end in view at such an observatory as that, 
for instance, at Greenwich. 

The distinct object of astro-physics is, in the case of the sun, for ex- 
ample, not to mark its exact place in the sky, but to lind out how it 
affects the earth and the wants of man on it; how its heat is distributed, 
and how it in fact affects not only the seasons and the farmer's crops, 
but the whole system of living things on the earth, for it has lately 
been proven that in a physical sense, it, and almost it alone, literally first 
creates and then modifies them in almost every possible way. 

We have however arrived at a knowledge that it does so, without 
yet knowing in most cases how it does so, and we are sure of the great 
importance of this last acquisition, while still largely in ignorance how 
to obtain it. We are, for example, sure that the latter knowledge 
would form among other things a scientific basis for meteorology and 
enable us to predict the years of good or bad harvests, so far as these 
depend on natural causes, independent of man, and yet we are still 
very far from being able to make such a prediction, and we cannot 
do so till we have learned more by such studies as those in question. 

Knowledge of the nature of the certain, but still imperfectly un- 
derstood dependence of teriestrial events on solar causes^ is, then, of 
the greatest practical consequence, and it is with these large aims of 
ultimate utility in view, as well as for the abstract interest of scien- 
tific investigation, that the Government is asked to recognize such 
researches as of national importance ; for it is to such a knowledge of 


causes with such i)nK'ti('aI (•(»iise<iiieiit'es tliat this chiss oT iiivestiii'a- 
tioii aims and tends. 

Astro-physics by no means coiitines its investijiation to tiie sun, 
though tliat is the most im}>oitant subject of its study and one whicli 
has been undertaken by nearly every leading government of the civil- 
ized world but the Indted States. France has a great astro-physical 
observatory at Meudon, and Germany one on an equal scale at l*ots- 
(him, while England, Italy, and other countries have also, at the na- 
tional expense, maintained for many years institutions for the prosecu- 
tion of astro-physical science. 

It has been observed that this recent science itself was almost coeval 
witli the discovery of the spectroscope, and that instrument has every- 
where been hirgely emi)loyed in most of its work. Of the heat which 
the sun sends, however, and which, in its terrestrial manifestations, is 
the principal ol)]ect of our study, it has long been well known that the 
s[)ectroscope could recognize only about one-quarter — three-quarters 
of all this solar heat being in a form which the ordinary spectroscope 
(;an not see nor analyze, lying as it does in the almost unknown "infra- 
red" end of the spectrum, where neither the eye nor the photograph 
can examine it. It has been known for many years that it Avas there, and 
we have had a rough idea of its amount, with an almost total incapacity 
to exhibit it in .detail. Our imi^erfect knowledge of this region is at 
l)resent represented by a few inadequate types of parts of it given in 
drawings made by hand, where the attempts to depict it at all are even 
to-day more crude than the very earliest charts of the visible spectrum, 
made in the infancy of spectroscopic science. 

One of the first i^ieces of work which this observatcn-y has under- 
taken is to explore and describe what may be properly called " this great 
unknown region," l»y a method which the writer has recently been able 
to bring to such a degree of success as to give good grounds for 
its (continued prosecution and for the hope that a complete map of this 
whole region will shortly be i)roduced by an automatic and therefore 
trustworthy i)rocess, showing the lines corresponding to the so-called 
Fraunhofcr lines in the uiiper spectrum. 

The firstsyear's work of any such observatory must ordinarily con- 
sist largely in ]»ei'fecting its apparatus and determining its constants, 
but a ]»ortion of this necessary labor has been deferred in favor of this 
principal task, of which it is hoped that another year will see the es- 
sential completion. In this, the present principal scientific work here, 
all resources of the observatory are, then, for the time being engaged. 

I have acknowledged in a previous report the valuable assistance of 
Prof. 0. C. ITutcliins, of I)Owdoin College, avIio efficiently aided in in- 
stalling the api)aratus. Prof, IIut(;hins was obliged to leave in Aug- 
ust. On the 16th of November Dr. William Hallock was appointed 
senior assistant. 

At different times during the year, there have been employed as 


assistants Mr. C. A. Saunders, Mr. C. T. Child, and Mr. F. L. O. Wads- 
worth. A photographer and a laborer complete the present force of 
the Observatory. 

lu tlie latter part of the year, Dr. Hallock, to my regret, advised me of 
his proximate call to another duty, and the work was later left tempo- 
rarily in the charge of Mr. Wadsworth, who had joined the staff in June, 
but who was sent to Europe in July, for the purpose, elsewhere referred 
to, of contributing to the work of establishing a wave-length standard 
under Professor Michelson. The labor has been carried on under the 
disadvantages of these interruptions, and also under others of another 
kind, due to the fact that the extremely delicate apparatus, which is 
used in a perpetually darkened room, is, by reason of the location of the 
temporary observatory shed, in proximity to trafBc-laden sti'eets, where 
there is danger that the passing vehicles affect the accuracy of the ob- 
servations both by earth tremors and by magnetic disturbances. Not- 
withstanding these latter drawbacks, much better results have been 
obtained than it was supposed could be reached in such a situation, 
and these, as I have said, I trust, another year will enable the Institu- 
tion to make jiublic. 


Several explorations have been carried on during the year by the 
TJ. S. Fish Commission, resulting in the transfer to the Museum of many 
large and varied collections of zoological, botanical, and geological 
material. Dr. W. L. Abbott has continued liis work in Asia and has 
contributed collections made in Kashmir. Dr. Edgar A. Mearns,of the 
Internati<inal Boundary Commission, has sent several large collections 
of natural-history specimens obtained near the border line between the 
United States and Mexico. Mr. P. L. Jouy has made important col- 
lections in Arizona and New Mexico. Collections of the fishes of Nica- 
ragua have been received from Mr. C. W. Richmond. 

Mr. W. W. Eockhill, the distinguished traveler, whose previous ex- 
plorations have been mentioned in my reports and who has already 
deposited in the Museum very valuable collections which he made illus- 
trating the religious practices, occupations, and amusements of various 
peoples in different i^arts of China, Thibet, and Turkestan, has started 
upon a second journey to hitherto almost unknown parts of Thibet, 
with such aid (much more limited than I could wish) as it was possible 
for me to afford him. From his known qualities as an explorer it may 
be confidently expected that his journey will result in imx)ortant con- 
tributions to our knowledge of this country. 


The number of ])ublications during the year has been about the same 
as in preceding years. 

As has been frequently stated, the publications of the Institution 
proper are of three classes : First, the series of " Smithsonian Contribu- 


tioiKs ti) Knowledge," in i^uarto foiiii, (•<>iii])iisin,n' original memoirs of 
researelies believed to i^reseut new truths, and, as required, 
are liberally illustrated with tijiures or plates; secondly, the series of 
"Smithsonian Miscellaneous Collections," in octaA"(> size, contaiuiiig' 
special reports, systematic lists of synopses of species, etc., whether 
from the organic or the inorganic world, instructions to naturalists for 
collecting and preserving specimens, special bibliographies, tabulated 
results, and other aids to scientific investigation not generally requir- 
ing illustrations; and lastly, the series of " Smithsonian Annual Ke- 
ports," presenting to Congress, through the Secretary, the condition of 
the Institution, accompanied, under the early plan of Professor Henry, 
by scientific articles from competent writers, either original or selected, 
but as a rule in un technical terms, representing the advances made in va- 
rious departments of research and frequently admitting of illustration by 
plates or figures. Th^se articles are intended to be of interest not alone 
to the correspondents and collaborators of the Tnstitution, but to that 
large number of the educated ])ublic who follow such statements with 
profit when they are presented in popularly intelligible form. 

SmitlisoHUdi Co)it}'ihi(tio)is to Knoirkulf/c. — The only publication of the 
year in this series is a memoir detailing the results of original experi- 
ments in aerodynamics by the Secretary,* and occu])ying 11;j quarto 
pages, illustrated with 11 figures and 10 i)lates. 

S)nitJi>ioniaH Miscellaneous (JoUeelions. — The number of titles in this 
series during the year is 47, of which none seem to call for any partic- 
ular comment. 

Smiilisonian Annual lieporf. — I have referred in my report for 1S89 
to a modification of the plan on which the Appendix was ])repared. 
From 1880 to 1888 the Appendix was chiefly devoted to an annual sum- 
mary of progress in various branches of science. The growing inefll- 
ciency of this summary, due to causes elsewhere mentioned, led me to 
return in the report for 188!> to the earlier ])lan of Prof. Heury, whicli 
was to present a selection of papers by eminent, or at least conqietent, 
expositois, chosen from the scientific literature of the year. This modi- 
fication, or rather this return to tiie nu'thod of the earlier reports, 
has been continued, and seems to me(^t with general api)reciation at the 
hands of the correspond<'nts (»l"the Tnstitution and others to whom the 
reports arii sent. The re})ort for 1800 issued during the year embraces 
a considerable range of scientific investigation and discussion. Many 
of the papeis are the work of distinguished investigators, and all are 
presented in untechnical language so as to interest the laigest number. 

Lunar jphotographs. — I have devoted considerable thought to a plan 
for publishing a work on the moon, which shall represent the ]>resent 
knowledge of the physical features of our satellite. A study of the 

* Resolved, That the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institntion he requested to con- 
tinue his researches in i>liysical science, and to itrcscnt sucli lucts and princii)k'S us 
may he devehiped lor luildication in tlic Sniithsouiau Contributions. (Journal of 
Proceedings of Board of Regents, .January 26, 1847. ) 


surface of tlie moon is of special and growing interest to geologists, 
wlio have rarely access to the largest class of telescopes, and what we 
know of it is derived very largely from maps made from eye-studies by 

Within a few years photography has beeu used with such increasing 
advantage in this interesting field, that it is believed by those compe- 
tent to express an opinion, that i^hotographs can shortly be produced 
which will exliibit in a i)ermanent form everything that a trained eye 
can recognize at the most i^owerful telescope. If this surprising result 
be not actually obtained, I am of opinion that it is attainable; and I 
have proposed to procure, through the association of the Smithsonian 
Institution with some of tlie leading observatories of the world, a series 
of photographic representations of hitherto unequaled size and defini- 
tion, which shall represent the moon's snrfiice as ftir as possible on a 
definite scale, and entirely without the intervention of the draftsman. 
Photographs of the moon made at the Harvard, Lick, and Paris observ- 
atories have been placed at the disposition of the Smithsonian Institu- 
tion for publication, and it is intended to issue a series of them accom- 
panied by explanatory text. Whether this considerable work shall 
appear as one of the regular series of "Contributions to Knowledge,"' 
or as a special publication in a more limited edition, has not yet been 

Smithsonian Tables. — The meteorological and i)hysical tables, originally 
prepared by Dr. Guyot and first published in 1851, have been in such 
demand that they have already passed through four editions. The last 
edition was exhausted several years ago, and in considering the advisa- 
bility of issuing a fifth edition, it was determined in 1887 to rev^ise the 
tables to conform to the present state of our knowledge. The work has 
been divided into three parts, meteorological, geographical, and i)hysi- 
cal, each one being independent of the others, but the three capable of 
forming a homogeneous volume. 

In carrying out this plan I was able to secure the assistance of Prof. 
William Libbey, jr., of Princeton, under w hose editorship the last edi- 
tion was issued in 1884, and Prof. Libbey, devoting gratuitously such 
time to the work as he could command from his engrossing college duties, 
prepared the first volume of the series, the "Meteorological Tables." 
The plan of the work was then somewhat modified and a farther re- 
vision was made by Mr. G. E. Curtis, who was at the time emj^loyed upon 
other work at the Smithsonian Institution, and by the end of December, 
1891, the manuscript was essentially ready i'ov the printer. Since that 
timeit has been passing through thejiress, and it is hoped thait the volume 
will be entirely finished by the close of the present calendar year. 


The international exchange service, through which the Smithsonian 
Institution is known to most of the large libraries and to a vast num- 


berofscietitific lueii tbrouiihout the world, has received sueh attention 
in my recent reports that it seems unnecessary to dwell upon it at 
length here. 

Tlie work of the bureau continues to increase, and in spite of many 
labor-saving devices in the clerical work suggested by experience, it will 
be impossible to meet all the demands made for transi)ortation of doc- 
uments unless some considerable inciease is also made in the amount 
appropriated by the General Government in the near i'uture. 

The United States Government has undertaken, by a treaty fornni- 
lated at Brussels in 1886, and iiually proclaimed by the President in 
1889, to carry on a system of international exchanges. These various 
countries adhering to the treaty have formally agreed each to estab- 
lish a bureau charged with the duty of attending to the exchange of 
official documents, i)ar]iamentary and administrative, which are pub 
lished in the country of their origin, and the bureaus of exchange will 
furthermore serve as intermediaries between the learned bodies and 
literary and scientific societies of the contracting States for the recep- 
tion and transmission of their i)ublications. 

In transmitting al)road each State assumes the expenses of i)acking 
and transportation to the place of destination, but when the transmis- 
sions are made by sea, special arrangements i-egulate the share of each 
State in the expense of transportation. 

The Smithsonian Institution, having since 1850 conducted an ex- 
change service with means of communication over the entire world, has 
been charged by the United States Government with the conduct of 
its own exchange business, and appropriations for the purpose have 
accordingly been made of late years to the Institution,- covering at 
present tlie greater part of the expense. The deticiency arising each 
year has been met from the Smithsonian fund, and tlie Institution hag 
continued its i)aid agents in I'^ngland and in Germany, as these two 
countries have not signitied their adherence to the treaty in question, 
but maintain exchange relaticnis with the United States independently 
of other countries concerned in the treaty. By referring to the cura- 
tor's statistical report contained in the Ajipendix, it will be seen that 
over 100 tons of books passed through the exchange office during the 
fiscal year, representing 07,0:J7 ])ackages — an increase of (),3()L packages 
over the number liandled during the prc^ceding year — while n\)on the 
exchange books, accounts of pnblications received and transnutted are 
kei)t with 20,082 societies or institutions and individuals. The expen- 
ditures upon this account haveauKninted to $2(),.)10.49, of which $17,000 
were ap[)ropriated by (Congress, $2,108.11 Avere repaid by Government 
bureaus, and $30.75 by State institutions and others, leaving a 
deficiency of $1,171.30 to be met by the Smithsonian Institution. 

The exjjcnses, it will be noted, take no acconnt of the rent value of 
the rooms in the Institution occnpied in this manner b>' the (Jeneral 
Government for exchange i)urposes, or that portion of the; service ot 


the regular officers of the Institution occupied with exchange business, 
and the sum appropriated by Congress would be entirely inadequate 
were it not that the chief ocean steamship companies have, since the 
early days of the Institution, granted the privilege of free freight for 
its exchange boxes. I have repeatedly called attention to the impro- 
priety of further trespassing upon the generosity of these companies, 
the privilege having been originally intended as a direct encouragement 
of the philanthropic aims of the Institution, whereas now a very large 
proportion of the freight thus carried is Government property and the 
service is conducted under an international treaty. 

I may further call attention in this place to the fact that an additional 
treaty made at Brussels in 1886 and proclaimed by the President of the 
United States on January 15, 1889, wherein lU'ovision is made for the 
immediate exchange of ofticial journals, parliamentary annals and docu- 
ments, has never been executed. A bill making an appropriation of 
$2,000 for this purpose passed the Senate in 1891, but no final action 
thereon has been taken. 

The amount estimated for the conduct of the exchange service for 
the year 1892-'93 was $23,000, a sum which was expected to cover the 
X)reseut expense of the Exchange Bureau in a single item, including the 
$2,000 just mentioned. At the close of the fiscal year the Sundry Civil 
Appropriation bill, of which this was an item, had not become a law. 

I desire to mention again here the increasing difficulty of making 
provision for the storage of Government publications not needed for 
immediate transmission abroad. A iiortion of the building is now de- 
voted to this imrpose which is needed more and more each year for the 
more legitimate purposes of the Institution. 

The exchange offices are also needed for the growing reference library 
of scientific books belonging to the Institution, and with a view to re- 
lieving the overcrowded condition of the library by removing these 
offices to the basement, 1 have urged upon Congress the desirability of 
making available for the purpose, the balance of an appropriation orig- 
inally intended for repairs and alterations to the western part of the 
building, which, by reason of a restricting clause in the appropriation 
act, can not be used for the work first x)roposed. By the expenditure 
of about $10,000 the basement of the east wing, now damp and some- 
times flooded with water, can be made thoroughly healthy and weU 
adapted to the needs of the exchange Avork. 

In my report for 1890 I stated that there had been expended from the 
Smithsonian fund for the support of the international exchange sys- 
tem, in the interests and by the authority of the National Government, 
$38,141.01 in excess of appropriations, advanced from January 1, 1868, 
to June 30, 1886, for the exchange of official Government documents, 
and $7,031.81 in excess of appropriations from July 1, 1886, to June 30, 
1889, advanced for the purpose of carrying out a convention entered 
into by the United States, or an aggregate of $45,175.82. 



A momoraiHluin in regard to this matter was duly tiansmittod to the 
Hon. Beujaiuiii Buttcrwortli, a meiii))er of the lioard of Regents, in the 
House of Ttepresentatives, for the purpose of taking the necessary steps 
to procure a return by Congress to the Smithsonian fund of this hist 
iiieutioned sum, juimely, $i5,17o.82, but I am not aware that action has 
l)eeii taken on it. 


The accessions to tlie library have been recorded as in the j)revious 
year, the entry nund)ers in the accession ])ook extending from 225,580 
to 240,109. 

The following statement shows the nuniljcr of volumes, parts of vol- 
umes, pami)hlets, and charts received from July 1, 1891, to June .30, 

Octavo or 

Quarto or 


7 631 

16, 098 



23, 729 

3 589 





29 928 

Of these accessions, 297 volumes, 0,303 i)arts of volumes, and 774 i)am- 
phlets — 7,434 in all — were retained for use in the Institution and Mu- 
seum; and 857 medical dissertations Avere dejwsited in the library of 
tlie Surgeon-General, U. S. Army; the remaining- publications were 
sent to the Library of Congress on the Monday following their receipt. 

The reading- room continues to be well used ; it has only been possi- 
])le t(> providf^ room upon the shelves for new periodicals by removing 
to the special libraries under the charge of (curators or to the Library 
of Congress such technical periodicals as experience has shown are 
seldom called for by general readers. 

The i)laii detailed in my report for 1887-'88 for increasing- the acces- 
sioufs to the library and for completing- the series of scientific journals 
already in i)ossession of thi^ Institution has been continued; the sup- 
])lementary work involved by the issue of new scientitic journals within 
the last few years has added somewhat to the work originally planned. 

The small collection of books forming what is called '' the Secretary's 
library" has been added to this year, but is already encroaching- upon 
the limited space available for library purposes. These books, as I have 
stated in my previous reports, are mostly, if not exclusively, books of 
scientific reference, and are, under certain restrictions, available to all 
connected with the Institution. 

I regret to state that Mr. John Muidoch, who has been the efiicient 
librarian of the Institution since 1887, resigned his position on May 
15, 1892. At the close of the year his successor had not been appointed. 



Tomb of Smithsou. — During the .summer of 1S!>1, upon the oc(;asion 
of ii visit to Europe, I made a s])ecial journey to Genoa for the purpose 
of seeing if the phxee of sepulture of the founder of the Institution was 
properly cared for. The tomb of Smithson is on the hill of San Be- 
nigno, high above the Gulf of Genoa, in a small obscure cemetery, 
whose existence is unknown to most of the people of the city. It is the 
property of the English Government and in the immediate charge of 
the British consul. Smithson's tomb is a substantial structure, but it 
appears to have had no attention during the sixty years of its existence, 
though other tombs in the small inclosure give evidence of continued 
care. A small sum of money, the interest of which is sufficient to de- 
fray the expense of the care of the inclosure and tomb, was i)laced to 
the credit of the United States consul at Genoa, who kindly consented 
to take charge of the matter. 

Statue of Prof. Baird. — A bill to provide for the erection of a bronze 
statue of Prof. Baird in the grounds of the Institution was introduced 
in the Senate by Mr. Morrill, but failed to pass. This was a renewal 
of previous efforts in this direction and the result is particularly disap- 
pointing to the friends of the Institution. 

Statue ofRohert Dale Given. — A bill to appropriate $20,000 for a statue 
to the Hon. Eobert Dale Owen, of Indiana, first chairman of the Board 
of Regents of the Institution and one of its staunchest friends, was in- 
troduced in the Senate by Mr. Voorhees and passed, but failed to secure 
favorable action in the House. 

Perkins collection of copper implements. — An amendment to the Sun- 
dry Civil Bill providing for the purchase by the Institution of a further 
collection of prehistoric copper implements belonging to Mr. Freder- 
ick S. Perkins, was proposed, but failed to secure favorable action in the 

Stereotype plates. — The Institution is possessed of a large collection 
of stereotype plates and engravers' blocks. An effort has been made 
to arrange these in a systematic manner to facilitate reference, but 
owing to the pressure of routine work, nuicli yet remains to be done in 
this direction. It is the policy of the Institution to permit the use of 
these plates by pubhshers under reasonable conditions. 

Government collections at Washington. — There was passed during the 
first session of the Fifty-second Congress a joint resolution (H. Res. 92) 
defining the policy of the Government with reference to the scientific 
and literary collections, designed to facilitate the use of such collections 
by students, and to encourage the establishment of institutions of learn- 
ing at the national capital. 

Assignment of rooms. — Pendulum observations by officers of the U. S. 
Coast and Geodetic Survey have been continued in a, basement room 
specially fitted for such work. 

The use of the "chapel" of the Smithsonian building was granted 


to the Aineiicau Oiieiital Society as a placcof assembly in Ai)ril. 1892, 
and hiter to the Art ( Jon.iiress for a h)aii exhibition of works of Amer- 
ican artists, hehl duriiiu- the session of tlie Coni^ress in ^Fay, 1892. 

The HodgJiiits (/iff. — In May, 1891, a letter received from ^fr. Thomas 
Geori^e Ilodgkius, of Setauket, N. Y., led to a correspondence in which 
he was advised by the Secretary of the objects of the Institution. At 
Mr. Hodg'kins's re([uest, the iSecretary, andsabse(|uently, the Assistant 
Secretary, made several visits to him at his home, and in conversation 
with him learned more in detail his wishes witli reference to a ])rop(jsed 

Mr. Hodgkins wished to present to the Smithsonian Institution the 
sum of 8200,01)0, the interest of A 100,000 of which was to be used for 
the general purposes of the Institution in the "increase and diffusion 
of knowledge among men," provided that the interest of the other .$100,- 
000 should l>e used in the investigation of the properties of atmos})heric 
air considered in its very widest relationship to all branches of science. 

Before taking any steps with regard to this offer, a telegram Avas sent 
(m June 22, I8t)l. to each Regent who could be reached in this country, 
reipiesting his individual opinion of the propriety of accepting Mr. 
Hodgkins' proposition. Favorable opinions having been received in 
answer to this from nearly all the Kegeuts, Mr, Hodgkins later, on 
Septend)er 22, at his home,' on Long Island, i)laced his gift of •$200,000 
in cash in the hands of the Secretary, with the understauding that an 
early n.ieeting of the Regents would be called to consider its formal 
acceptance under the terms which Mr. Hodgkins proposed. 

A meeting of the Regents was therefore called at the earliest day 
practicable (October 21, 18!) 1), and the matter having been laid before 
them in detail, the gift was accepted in the terms of the donor. 

It seems appropriate at this time to make a statement in elucidation 
of Mr. llodgkins's wishes as they have been expressed in various 
conferences with the Secretary and the Assistant Secretary. It is not 
his intention that liis fund should be applied to special investigation in 
sanitary science, but he desires rather that the standard of work 
should be primarily in relation to the demands ol" ])ure science, believing 
that application in many directions would follow. lie has si>oken of 
the experiments of l-'ranklin upon atmosi>heric electricity as one of the 
investigations which, if carried on at tlie piescnt day, would be 
germane to his foundation; ami has, in fuitiier illustration of his 
meaning, also referred to the prize awarded by the French A{;ademy of 
Sciences to Paul Bert for his discovery in regard to the intluences of 
oxygen on the phenomena of vitality, as ai)pro]»riate to his own pro- 
posed foundation. His great interest in the diffusion of knowledge 
concerning air grows out of his belief that the air is of the highest 
importance to man in (n^ery aspect of his physical and mental condition, 
and he hopes that his gift will stimulate scientific investigation of the 
highest order by the best minds, believing that by this means the 
H. Mis. Ill 2 


attentiou of mankind may best be concentrated and kept concentrated 
on the importance of the subject. He has expressed a hope that it 
might be thought advisable to offer some very considerable prize, 
which, being pubhshed to the eutu^e world, wouhl by its magnitude call 
attention to the subject in which he was so much interested. 

Much consideration nas been given to the question as to how the 
donor's wishes may best be carried into effect, for no small difftculty 
arises from the universality of the application of his foundation, since 
manifestly there is no branch of natural science which is not affected 
by it. Meteorology, hygiene and related subjects are most obviously 
concerned, while others, though less obviously, are no less immediately 
connected, such as geology, for instance, which has for its field the 
crust of the earth, now recognized as being largely formed of atmos- 
pheric deposits and molded by atmospheric intlueuces. This is only 
an instance of what we find in the case of nearly every one of the 
whole circle of sciences, biological and physical, all of which appear 
on examination to be affected by our knowledge of the atmosphere in 
a very real and important sense. 

In order to secure the advice and co-operation of scientific men 
throughout the world, letters were addressed to a number of eminent 
specialists, stating the circumstances of Mr. Hodgkins's gift to the 
Institution, and explaining his wishes. The following letter is an 
example : 

Sir: I have the honor to inform you that a bequest has been made 
to the Smithsonian Institution by Mr. Thomas G. Hodgkins, the income 
of a portion of which is to be devoted to the increase and diffusion of 
more exact knowledge of the nature and properties of atmospheric air. 

In carrying out the donor's wishes, it is proposed to offer a number 
of prizes for scientific investigations of a high order of merit bearing 
upon the properties of the atmosphere, to be awarded without regard 
to the nationality of tlie author. 

While hygiene will occupy a prominent place, it is not intended to 
limit these "prizes to any single class of investigations, however im- 
portant, but to extend them over the whole field of the natural sciences, 
as far as these may be regarded as related to each other through the 
atmosphere as a common bond. 

In illustration of my meaning, I may instance as proper subjects for 
investigation — 

1. Anthropology, considering man himself as modified by climate, 

and his arts as affected by the atmosphere; 

2. Biology, in connection with the atmosphere as a fountain of life; 

3. Chemistry, in its many obvious relationships to the subject; 

4. Electricity, considered in connection with atmospheric electricity; 

5. Geology, considered in connection with the action of the atmos- 

phere in its formation and deformation of the surface of the 

and so on through almost the whole circle of the sciences. 

I now write to ask if you will kindly suggest the nature of the prin- 
cipal relationsliips existing between physics and the atmosphere, and 
indicate one or two subjects arising out ot these relations which you 
consider to be proper lor prize essays. 


T sluill also be jxlad to know if you will conscut to ho a incinbev of a 
coininittce to award such ai prize, if jiivcii, and to leain from you in 
the saniecoMiieetiou of any important icsearcli, .iicrniane to your own 
studies, that would be nuiterially advanced by a grant Irom the funds 
now available under this liberal construction. 

In further illustration of my meaniui;', I take the liberty of inclosing 
a copy of a reply made to me in answer to a similar impiiry concerning 
the science of anthropoh)gy, which 1 do merely to show more clearly 
the character of the information I desire. 

The following was the inclosure. It is an answer by a distinguished 
anthropologist to a similar <|uestion, and was inclosed as an illustration 
of the fact that the terms of the Ilodgkins donation api)ly <'ven to sci- 
entific matters which may appear at first sight disconnected with the 
subject (/. f. to anthroi>ology), but which upon consideration are seen 
to be intimately related to it: 

Dear, Sir : In reply to your imjuiry concerning the relations existing 
between anthropology and the study of the atmosphere I l)eg leave to 
say that the natural history of man takes into consideration: — 

(1) Man, as modified by climate, 

(2) His arts as occasioned and afi'ected by the atmosphere. 

As to the first, the atmosphere, through climate, elevation, etc., upon 
man considered as an animal, is l)elieved to have affected his bodily 
form and stature, the color of his eyes, hair, and skin; his longevity, 
fecundity, and vigor, and therefi)re to have been the most ])otent factor 
of all iii producing those varieties of onr si)ecies called races, and to be 
at the foundation of these problems whose discussion constitutes the 
science of ethnology. 

As to the second, most of the arts and activities of man depend upon 
the atmosphere^ for their suggestion and methods. For example, his 
habitations, clothing-, and the common occupations of his daily life are 
most obviously controlled by hisatmosphei'i*' surroundings, which make 
him in the Arctic regions a hunter of furs, dwelling underground; in 
the temperate zone a farmer, dwelling- in houses; in the tropics a 
hunter of ivory, dwelling- in open shelters from the sun. 

Permit me to observe further, that the study of the air can not be 
omitted in connection with the sci<'nce of sociology. E\en philology 
draws its material and i)erha]»s derives it forms largely from the atmos- 
])here, andthei»rimitive]>hil()S()phiesand mythologies of the world are 
filled with imag<'ry an<l theories derived therefrom. Therefore in select- 
ing, at your rexjuest, from the relationships of the atmosi)here to the 
science of antliiopi)logy in general, two or more subjects foi" i)rize 
essays, I have only too much s(u)])e. 

After nuu;h consideration I would pro])ose to suggest that a ])rize of 
not less than $1,000 sliould be offered for an essay upon oneof the fol- 
lowing topics: 

1. The relation of atmospheric phenomena, to the cosmogenies, 

creeds, and cults of all peoi)les. 

2. Atmos])heric changes as determiniu.g the foi-nis of primitive so- 

ciety, family and tril)al organizations, etc. 

3. As between the monogenistic and the i)olyg-euistic theory of the 

origin of man, what light is thrown u[)on the (luestion by a study 
of atmospheric intluences upon nnui's ])hysical constitution. 

4. Atmospheric infiueuees and phenomena as afi'ecting constructive 

and decorative architecture. 


These essays vshould be presented within a specitied time and sub- 
mitted to the judgment of a committee, of vrhieh I should be Avilling 
to be a member. Notice of tliis prize coukl advantageously be made 
public through the following special journals: L'Anthropologie, Paris; 
Archiv fiir Anthropologic, Braunschweig. 

In regard to your incjuiry as to any in>portant research germane to 
the subject in which 1 am personally interested, which would be ad- 
vanced by a grant of money, I beg leave to say that I am at present 
hindered from pursuing my investigations into the influence of climate 
and other atmosidieric phenomena in bringing about the distribution 
of tribes and stocks of North American aborigines at the time of the 
discovery, by the need of a small sum of money which might be placed 
at my disposal. If I had $500 unfettered by conditions, I could within 
a year's time undertake to bring together the elements for the solution 
of this problem, whii-h has puzzled for so many years students of 
ethnology and philology. 

i anj, very resjiectfully yours, 

* # * 

S. P. Langley, Esq., 

Secretary Smithsonian Jufititution, 

Washin()to)i, I>. (J. 

As soon as the attention of the ])ublic had been directed to Mr. 
Hodgkins's gilt, numerous applications for assistance from the fund 
were made, and T deemed it advantageous to appoint a special advisory 
committee, to which might be referred nmtters pertaining to the 
Hodgkins fund. This committee was comi>osed of Surgeon John S. 
Billings, U. H. Army, Director of the Army MedictJ Museum, in behalf 
of hygiene and tlie related sciences; Prof. F. W. Clarke, chemist of 
the U. S. Geological Survey; Mr. William II. Dall of the U. S. Geolog- 
ical Survey, well known for his biological and an.thropological studies; 
Prof. AVilliam 0. Winlock, in behalf of astronomy and physics, and the 
Assistant Secretary of the Institution, Dr. G. Brown Goode, who acted 
as chairman. The committee has held several meetings, and I desire 
at this time to express my high api)reciation of the value of the work 
which they have already done, both as a committee and individually. 
At the close of the year, the committee had under consideration, at my 
request, a form of circular to be issued to learned institutions and in- 
vestigators throughout the world, calling attention to the establish- 
ment of the Hodgkins fund, and announcing certain prizes which it is 
intended to olter for essays upon specihed subjects. 


1 took occasion in my last report to invite your attention to the fact 
that the very rapid growth of the collections of the Museum was be- 
coming, under existing circumstances, a source of great embarrass- 
ment. The difficulties of the situation have increased during the past 
year, since, while the influx of specimens has continued, no additional 
space has been provided for their reception and only an insignificant 
additional sum of money for their maintenance. 



Tills iiiisolicited iuciTiise of the ('ollcctioii.s should pri-jxTly be, a 
souicc of <;i;ititi('atioii rather than of einbarrassmeut. Growth is osseii 
tial to the welfare of a museum, and to check it is sur*^ to produce un- 
fortunate results. It seems undesirable to say to the friends of the 
Museum that their valuable donations can not be received. Such a 
course would alienate their sympatliy, and the Museum would lose the 
advantage of their good oftici's. Under existing' conditions, however, 
the necessity of resorting to so uiulesirable a measure is perilously 
near. The increase of tlu^ ctdlections from certain other simrces can 
not even thus be checked. 

Large collections are made every year by the Department of Agri- 
culture, the (leological Survey, the Fish Commission, and other De- 
partments and Bureaus of the Government, either as an essential part 
of their work or incidentally. By provision of law the Museum is made 
the custodian of these collections, and it can not, therefore, do other- 
wise than to receive and preserve them. 

Many valuable objects are exposed to dust and vandalism from the 
lack of sufficient money to procure the necessary cases for their protec- 
tion. Series of objects, such as the great Lacoe collection of fossil 
plants, recently acquired, are frequently ottered with the condition that 
suitable cases be provided. For the safe-kecqdng of tln^ objects already 
in the possession of the IMuseum and foi- the reception of those ottered, 
nunuu'ous storage and exhibition cases are a lu'cessity. 

The number of si)ecimens of all kinds in tin? Museum at the close of 
the year, as shown by the following table, nearly eipialled three and a 
quarter millions. The increase for the year was about 2()0,0()0 speci- 
mens, or nearly dcuible that of bSlM. 

Tahle nhowiii'i lln aninnil hicrcane in the depart »\ en Ik of the, NatiovdJ Mii>i(uin. 

Name of departmeut. 

4, 000 

(I) 1885-'86. ' 1886-'S7. 

Art and industries: 

Materia medica 




Animal products 

Graphic arts 

Transportation and engiiu'c-ring 

Naval architecture 

Historical relirs 

Coins, medals, paper money, etc 

Musical instniments 

Modern potterj-, porcelain, and bronzes. 

Paints and dyes 

" The Catlin Gallery ' 

Physical apparatus 

Oils and gums ' 

Chemical products ' 

Domestic animals 

' Xo census of the collection laken. 


1, 580 

2, 000 
5, 000 
1, 000 


4, 850 
;{, OOH 
9, 870 
2, 702 




2, 278 






5, 51G 


:!, 144 

2, 822 

13, (i:u 

2, 238 


Table nhowing the annual incream' in the drpart mentis of the Xational Munenm — Continued. 

Name of department. 

Ethnology i 

American aboriginal pottery 

Oriental antiquities 

Prehistoric- anthropology ' 35, 512 

Mammals (skins and alcoholics) 4,600 

Birds I 44, 354 

Birds' eggs and nests ' 

Reptiles and batraehians 

Fishes ' 50, 000 

Vertebrate fossils ' 

MoUuaks ! 33,375 


Marine invertebrates 

Comparative anatomy : 



Paleozoic fossils 

Mesozoic fossils 

Cenozoic fossils 

Fossil plants 

Eecent plants (^) 


Lithology and physical geology. . . 
Metallurgy and economic geology 
Living animals 

40, 491 
47, 246 

11. 781 

3,5.35 I 

70 ! 

3. 640 


20, 000 

200, 000 
12, 000 


300, 000 
25, 000 

45, 252 
50, 350 
40, 072 
23, 495 
08, 000 

05, 314 
.55, 945 
44. 163 
25, 344 
75, 000 

. 1 4, 624 

400, 000 
151, 000 
200. 000 

73, 000 
100, 000 
with molhi.sks.) 
: 7,291 i 

14, 550 
12, 500 
30, 000 

16, 610 
18, 000 
40, 000 

460, 000 
500, 000 
350. 000 


80, 482 
69, 742 

30, 000 
18, 401 
20, 647 
48, 000 

503, 764 
20, 022 

54, 987 
48, 173 
27, 542 

100, 000 

425, 000 
585, 000 
450, 000 

I 11,022 

84. 491 

70, 775 

8, 462 
32, 000 
18, 601 
21, .500 
49, 000 

Total 193,362 263,143 1,472,600 

, 420, 944 

2, 660, 335 

Xame of department. 





10, 078 

2, 822 

5, 942 



10, 078 


14, 640 





Arts and industries : 

Materia medica .• 




Animal products 

Graphic arts 

Transportation and engineering ' ' (''^) 1 , 250 

Naval architecture 

Historical relics 

Coins, medals, paper monej^, etc 

Musical instruments 

Modern pottery, porcelain, and bronzes . 

'No census of the collection taken. 

TTp to 1890 the numbers have reference only to specimens received through the Museum, and do 
not include specimens received for the National Herbarium through the Department of Agriculture. 
The figures given for 1890-'91 include, for the first time, the number of specimens received both at the 
National Museum and at the Department of Agriculture for the National Herbarium. 

^The actual increase in the collections during the year 1889-'90 is nnich greater thiin appears from a 
comparison of the totals for 1889 and for 1890. This is explained by the apparent absence of any increase 
in the department of lit]iology and metallurgy ; the total for 1890 in both of these departments com 
bined, showing a decrease of 46,314 specimens, owing to the rejection of worthless material. 

■•Although about 200 specimens have been received during the year, the total number of specimens 
in the collection is now less than that estimated for 1889, owing to the rejection of worthless material. 

^The collection now contains between 3,000 and 4.000 specimens. 

*No estimate of increase made in 1890 or 1891. 

(3) 1889-'90. 



<.'} 5, 915 








3, 288 

10, 080 


10, 080 



2. 994 

(6) 000 






(=) 600 

C) 600 


20, 890 

23, 890 

28, 390 





3, 144 

.3, 232 


Tahlv sltoiriiiy the otuiual iin-rcdsf in thi (leporlmcvts of the Xatioii'il Mn.sciim — Coutiniied. 

Name of departiuent. 

1887-'88. -, 1888--89. (i)1889-'00. 1890-"ni. | 1891-"92. 

Arts and industries — ContiiiUfd. 

I'ainl s aud dyes 

"The Catlin Gallery " 

Physical apparatus 

Oils and gums 

Chemical products 

Domestic animals 


American aboriginal pottery 

Oriental anticiuities 

Pieliiatoric anthropology 

Maiiunals (skins and alcoholics) . 


Birds' eggs aud nests 

Kejit lies and batrachiaus 


Vertebrate fossils 









505, 404 
27. 122 



8, 058 
."lO. 484 
r>0. 055 
27, 0(14 

101.. -ioO 

8, 27,-) 
.-.7. 974 
5(1. 173 
28. 405 
107. 350 

Marine invertebrates 

Comparative anatomy: 



I'aleozoic fossils 

Mesozoic fossils 

Cenozoic fossils 

Fossil plants 

Iteceut phiuts C^) 


I.ithology ami physical geology. .. 
Metallui'gy and econoiuic geology. 
Living animals 

455,000 ; 468,000 
595,000 003.000 
515,000 515.300 


84. 040 


20, 209 

3, 485 


8, 830 

60, 219 


29, 050 

122, 575 

0) 512 

471, 500 

018. 000 

520. 000 



51(t. (!30 

30, 488 

3, 487 

127, 701 

9, 301 

(3)02, 001 

,52, 106 

29, 935 



470, 500 

()30, 000 

526. 750 

1. 112 



32, 305 

3, 487 

137, 087 


OS. 410 

58, 200 

30, 939 

129, 218 

1, 582 

482, 725 

646, 500 

533, 870 

12,981 ■ {'^) 12,555 

91.120 I 92,355 
70.925 71.230 ' 71.305 

(Included with mollu.iks.i 

10. 0011 
3K, 000 
22. 500 

Total 2. 803, 459 


178 1 








(«) 491 



10. 507 
39, 654 
37, 101 

32. 7(>2 

92, 970 
79, 754 

80, 017 
44. 230 

9-3, 839 
82, 8.53 

134. OUl 
48, 357 

01, 162 (■) 35. 787 

2.895,104 3,028.714 

' The actual increase iu the collections during the year 1889-'90 is much greater than ajipears from a 
coiiiparispn of the totals for 1889 and for 1890. This is explained by the apiiarent absence of any increase 
in the depart ment of lithology and inetallurgy ; tlie total for 1890 in both of these deiiartuieids com- 
bined, sliowing a decrease of 40,314 specimens, owing to tlie rejection of \Miit bless material. 

■^Included in the historical collection. 

^The total number of specimens in the deitartmenr of liiiils in 1.S90-'91 was insltad of O2.(iol. 

••Only a small )iortiiin of llie colleciiou represented by tliis iiiiniber was received liiiriiig tlie year 

"The decrease in this dejiartment for the year 1891-'92 was occasioned b\ tlie tniiisl'er of l,0(iO 
skeletons to the department of vertebrate fossils. 

''Vyi to 1.-90 the niinibers have reference only to specimens received through the Museum, and do 
not include specimens received for the National Heibariiim tlirougli tbc Di'partment of Agriciillure. 
The figuies given for 1890-'91 include, for the first time, the number of specimens receiveil both at the 
National Museum and at the Department of Agriiulture for the National Herbaiiuin. 

'(Collections combined in October, 18S9, under Department of Geology. Tlie ajiparent decrea'<e of 
more than 50 i)er cent of the estimated total for 1889 is accounted for (1) by the rejection of several 
thousands of specimens from the collection, and (2) by the fact that uo estimate of the specimens in 
the reserve and duplicate series is included. 

'Transferred to the National Zoiilogical Park. 

Note. — The fact that the figures for two successive years relating to tlie same collection are un- 
changed, does not necessarily imply tliat there has been no in tlie collection, but that for soma 
spacial reason it has not been possible to obtain the figures showing the increase. 


Condition of the exhibition halls. — The results of over-crowding are 
evident everywhere in tlie exhibition halls. The installation of the 
collections and the comfort of visitors are interfered with. It has 
become necessary to narrow the aisles in many halls to such a degree 
that they are almost impassable, and on occasions when unusual num- 
bers of visitors are in the city, many objects of interest have to be 
withdrawn from exhibition. The unavoidable crowding of the cases 
interferes with the lighting, so that many objects are practically 
hidden fi-om view. 

To relieve the present pressure, as regards space, I have, in address- 
ing Congress, brought forward two propositions. For immediate and 
temporary relief 1 have recommended the erection of light galleries 
in two of the halls, with the intention of hereafter asking for others of 
the same character. Such galleries, unlike those in the main Smith- 
sonian hall, were provided for in the original plans of the building, and 
can be erected without detracting from the appearance of the halls. 

While these galleries would add materially to the available exhibition 
space, we must look to the erection of a new museum building for more 
permanent relief from the present overcrowded condition. A bill 
providing for the construction of a new building has twice received 
favorable action by the Senate, but has failed to pass the House. 

It is greatly to be hoped that both the galleries and also an addi- 
tional building may be provided without further delay. 

Curatorships. — There are now in the Museum thirty-three organized 
departments and sections, under the care of eight curators, paid by the 
Museum, and twenty honorary curators, detailed for special duty from 
different bureaus of the Government. While the latter render very 
important and highly appreciated services, they are, of course, more 
especially occupied with their own peculiar duties, and can not devote 
more than a small portion of their time to the interests of the Museum. 
The technical character of the tluties of the curators renders highly de- 
sirable the employment of a larger paid staff of men who have had 
special training for nuiseum work. In order to secure the services of 
such persons, however, and to obtain the best results for the Museum, 
greater inducements should be offered in the way of compensation. 
There are few professors in our colleges who do not receive larger sal- 
aries than it is now possible to pay the curators of the Museum, who, 
nevertheless, in addition to their onerous executive duties as custodians 
of the collections, are expected to furnish scientific information for re- 
plies to the thousand of inquiries received every year. 

It maybe added that the proper preservation of the collections often 
entails much manual labor, and in many instances immediate and stren- 
uous efforts are lu^eded to save from entire loss large collections of a 
perishable nature. Urgent work of this kind is not unfrequently per- 
formed by the curators. 

It is most desirable that the scientillc staff" of the Museum should be 


periiuiiK'iitly ideutifiecl with it, and this coiKlition can iiardly he reached 
unless a niajovity at least of the curatois are ])aid from its ai>]tro|)ria- 
tions. The permanent assi<;iinient of the curators to tlieir respective 
departments, with adecpiate compensation and the absencie of e.\trane(»us 
duties, would materially advance the work of the ^luseuni on its scien- 
titic side. 

The lack of means to employ a sufticient inunber of assistants in the 
lower grades causes a largeaniount of minor routine work to fall on the 
curators, who are capable of rendering services of a higher (diaracter. 
On account of this condition of affan\s many plans of the greatest iini)()r- 
tance to the ^Museum are held in abeyance from year to year, or are 
never consummated. 

Clerical force. — Allusion has been made in my former rei»orts ro the 
need of additional clerical assistance in the iVIuseum. This need 
becomes greater every year as the collections increase in magnitude. 
The salaries paid for clerical work are less than in the executive depart- 
ments of the Government and elsewhere, and the Museum on many 
occasions has lost the services of comi)etent clerks, trained in their 
special work, who have been attracted to other tields of labor by higher 
compensation. Some of the dei)artments in the Museum are entirely 
without clerical assistance, and the curators are ol)liged to devote time 
which could l)e nuu-h Itetter employed, to the simple but necessary 
work of cataloguing and labelling s]>ecimens, ])rei)aring invoices, and 
unpacking boxes. 

For the safekee])ing of the collections, whicii have greatly increased 
in intiinsic \alue as well as extent, a larger nund>er (jf watchmen is 
necessary. The force is now so small that it is difticult to grant the 
usual leaves of absence without exposing the collections to danger, 
ft is also Avith difhculty that the cleanliness of the floors and cases is 
maintained, on account of the limite<l number of labcu^ers and cleaners 
which the i)resent appropriation will i)ermit the "Museum to employ. 

DisfrihiUwH of specimens. — The distribution of duplicate material to 
e<lucational institutions has been continued as far as practicable. This 
means of dilfusing knowledge is one of the most popular features of the 
.Museum work, and has been carried on unceasingly for nearly half a 
century, during which time nearly half a million sjiecimens, embracing 
mamnnds, fishes, marine invertebrates, birds, shells, rocks, ores, min- 
erals, and ethnological objects, ha\'e been given to Museums and other 
educational institutions in the United States, Miiile important ex- 
changes with similar institutions abroad have residted in nnich good to 
the Museum. This work, too, is now being seriously liindered, owing 
to lack of si)ace for the pro[»er handling and separation of the duplicate 
material, and its classification and arrangement into series for distribu- 

The material distributed during the year consisted chietiy of nuner- 
als, marine invertebrates, and casts of prehistoric stone implements, 
and amounted to 32,098 specimeas. 


Fublications. — There lijis been unusual activityin the work of this de- 
partment of the Museum during the year. The report for 1889 has been 
publish ed, and the report for 1890 has been put in type, Th e manuscript 
of the report for 1891 was sent to the Public l*rinter and is now going- 
through the press. Vol. xiii of the '' Proceedings" of the National Mu- 
seum has been published. Of the ^'Bulletin," jSTos. 39 (Parts A to G)^ 
41 and 12 have been issued. 

The Proceedings and Bulletins of the iSTational Museum are not "pub- 
lic documents," hence no part of the edition is regularly apportioned 
for distribution by the Senate and House, or to the legal depositcn-ies. 
The edition of 3,000 copies, now printed, is only snflieiout to supply in 
limited measure the very urgent requests from public libraries, educa- 
tional institutions, and scientific investigators in the United States and 
throughout the world. A larger appropriation for printing is needed, 
so as to enable the Museum to place a full series of its publications in 
representative libraries in different parts of each State. It is not the 
intention that the annual number of issues of the Proceedings and Bul- 
letins should be increased, but that a larger edition of each should be 
printed. On account of the small edition, the Museum fails to receive 
in exchange the valuable publications of many scientific institutions. 

The amounts hitherto appropriated, though expended with strict 
economy, have been found inadequate. 

Visitors. — The total number of visitors to the Smithsonian building 
during- the past year was 114,817, and to tlie Museum 269,825; total, 
384,642. This is an increase of 13,453 over the previous year. 

Heating and W/hting. — The larger part of this approi)riation is ex- 
pended for fuel and gas. As has been explained in connection with 
the estimates for previous years, it is necessary for the safety of the 
collection that the buildings should be kept at a nearly even temj)era- 
ture day and night throughout the winter. The reduction of this ap- 
priation below the minimum of $12,000 will make a deficiency estimate 
necessary. From lack of fuel, required to maintain the proi^er temper- 
ature, some of the ofl&ces had to be abandoned on several occasions 
during- the winter of 1892. The longer the heating apparatus is used 
the less efidcient it becomes, and of late it has been necessary each 
successive year to expend a larger sum for replacing worn-out jiarts. 
The wires of the burglar alarms, watchman's call boxes, and other 
electrical apparatus, have deterioiated fiom long- use, and need imme- 
diate attention. 

There are at present in use in the Museum building twenty-five arc 
lights, and this number is not sufticient to illuminate the entire build- 
ing, there being no lights in the courts and an insufllicient number in 
the halls. It is thought that with an additional plant, costing about 
$5,000, the building may be so lighted that it can be thrown oi)en 
occasionally to the public at night, to the advantage of tliose persons 
who are unable to avail themselves of the regular hours of exhibition. 


The purchase (»r an additional ciiuinc will also reixler it i)()ssible io 
provide a.uaiiist the contiii^ciK y ot total darkness in case of damag'e 
to dynamo, line, or motor. 

By tlie appropriation of -"^a.OOO for the removal of decayed wooden 
Hoors, and the substituting of gi-anolithic or artilicial stone pavement 
therefor, it has been j^ossibk' to comi»lete a much needed improvement 
in several of the halls and courts of the Museum. 

With a view of securing the best pavement possible, as well as fen- 
the ])urpose of obtaining for future guidance a practical knowledge of 
the merits of the artilicial stoue flooring made by <lifferent bidders, 
three proposals which did not vary materially in amount, were accei>ted. 
It will require a greater length of time than has yet elapsed to pro- 
nounce upon the relative merits of these pavements, but they have 
already proved themselves far more satisfactory than the wooden floors 
for which they were substituted, and it is hoped that it will soon be 
possible to put down the same, or some equally durable form of pave- 
jiient, in the parts of the museum which still lack this improvement. 

The WorhV.s Columbian Exposition. — The work of preparing an ex- 
hibit for the World's Fair in Chicago has been continued during the 
year. A full report of the participation of the Smithsonian Institution 
and the National Museum in this exhibition will be deferred until such 
time as a complete statement can be made. 


Ethnological researches among the North American Indians have 
been continued by the Smithsonian Institution, in compliance with 
acts of Congress, during the year 1891-'92, under the direction of Maj. 
J. W. Powell, who is also Directoi- of the U. S. Geological Survey. 

The work of the Bureau of Ethnology during the year has been con- 
ducted on the same systematic plan before explained as in successful 
operation. The authors of the i)ublications of the Bureau prepare 
tiiem from material personally gathered by themselves in the tield, 
which is supplemented by study of all the information attainable fiom 
other sources. 

In addition to the issue during the year of the Seventh Annual IJe- 
])ort and of six other volumes of publications, mentioned under that 
heading in the report of the Director hereunto ap[)ended, at the close 
of the fiscal year the Eighth and Ninth Annual Keports were in tyi)e, 
the tenth had been delivered to the Public Printer, and the eleventh 
and twelfth were on tile ready for delivery to that (»flicial as soon as 
there should be any ])rospect that their ])rinting could be conunenced. 
Other rei)orts and papei's not intended to form parts of the series of 
annual rei)orts were also hied as ready for printing. 

Another feature of the year's work consisted in the collection by 
officers of the Bureau, under the authority of law, of erhnoh)gic objects 


for the exhibit at the World's Columbian Exposition. This authority 
was opportune, as objects of that character are becoming scarce and 
costly and jirobably could not, after a few montljs, be secured for pres- 
ervation in a permanent collection. A similar work of preservation, 
also authorized by law, was executed in the restoration of the ruin of 
Casa Grande, in Arizona. 

Mention of these special operations does not imply that the re- 
searclies into the religions, customs, history and other ethnologic data 
of the Indian tribes were omitted during the year. Details respecting 
all the work of the Bureau will be found in the report of its director, 
given in the Appendix. 


The insufficiency of the appropriations for the maintenance of the 
National Zoological Park was pointed out in the report for the year 
ending June 30,1891, and experience amply supports the opinions there 
expressed. It does not seem superfluous to repeat the following passage 
from this last report : 

"The primary object for which Congress was asked to establish a 
National Zoological Park was to secure the preservation of those Amer- 
ican animals that are already nearly extinct, and this object it was 
thought would be best secured by the establishment of a large inclosure 
in which such animals could be kept in a seclusion as nearly as possible 
like that of their native haunts. It was believed that, except for initial 
expenses for buildings and roads for the public, this could be done with 
an outlay comi^a rati vely small, probably not exceeding $50,000 a year; 
for, after the necessaiy land was once acquired and fenced in, smaller 
inclosures and paddocks could be set off and inexpensive barns erected 
at about this yearly charge. 

It was, in the nature of things, inevitable that some provision should 
be made for the convenience of a curious and interested jniblic, as well 
as for the care and well being of animals unaccustomed to the i)res- 
ence of man. For the tirst of these it was intended to set aside a con- 
siderable area, on which the principal buildings should be placed and 
to which shonld be taken, as was expedient, such of the animals as 
might interest the public, the larger ])ortion of the park being still 
considered as a natural preserve where animals need be disturbed by 
no unusual surroundings, and where it was hoped they might, after 
the time necessary for their acclimation, breed their young. 

The maintenance of a park devoted ta these purposes, that is, pri- 
marily to useful and scientific ends, and secondly to recreation, seemed 
to those interested in its success a legitimate tax upon national re- 
sources, but when Congress decided that one-half of the necessary 
expenses should be raised by local taxation it seemed only fit that the 
tax-payers should be heard in their wish to liave prominence given to 
the feature that principally interested them, and their chief interest was 
natnrally in the park as a place of recreation. That this was recog- 
nized by a considerable body in Congress became evident from the sub- 
sequent debates. 

The moral right of the people of the District to ask consideration of 


their wishes for entcrtainineiit in return for the outlay which falls 
ui)ori them eau not be questioned, and so far as this could be reco^;- 
uized it iiitioduced a tendency to provide an establishment uiore like 
an ordiiuuy zoological garden, or permanent menagerie, than the com- 
paratively inexpensive scheme at first contemplated. 

Ill view of the circumstances an ap])ropriation was asked of Con- 
gress, which was believed to be smaller than was consistent with the 
proper ultimate development of the park, but on an estimate Avhich 
proposed to begin on the most economical scale. Tlius, for tlie general 
maintenance of the collection, $35,000 was asked, which is about the 
same as the annual sum silent in the Central Park meuitgerie, Xew 
York, having an area of about 10 acres, and atleast -$10,000 less than is 
spent either at the zoological garden in Cincinnati or IMiiladelphia, ea.-h 
haviiig an area of about 40 acres. ^Y]u*n it is rellected that tliese 
latter enterj)rises are conducted for business i)ur[)0ses by businessmen, 
that they have their collections already nearly comi)lete and purchas(i 
but few new aninuils, it will be seen that the sum asked for tin; main- 
tenance of the 07 acres of tlie National Zoological I*ark witli all the 
expensive animals yet to be jn'ocured was certainly not extra\agiint. 
Congress reduced this estimate to $17,o00, a sum Ibr which as ;i y(;ar's 
experience has now shown the Park can not be maintain(Hl. 

For buildings, an a[)propriation of .$;>0,8."J0 was asked. Jn this con- 
nection it may be recalled that in the Philadelphia gardens the build- 
ings and inclosures cost $101,705. Tlie sum estimated was intended to 
cover all inclosures and structures of every character indispensable on 
the modest scale projjosed. Congress reduced this to $18,000. 

The average expense of preparing such uncultivated grounds in city 
parks elsewhere has proved to be at least $2,900 per acre. The sum ol" 
$20,500 was asked for that i)urpose, as no moic than sufficient to fit 
such portions of the park as were necessary for th(5 immediate accom- 
modation of the public. Congress reduced this to $15,000. 

These icihictions have not only obliged me to retard the development 
on the lines that had been laid down, but have increased the ultimate 
cost; for where living creatures are in question it is plain that they 
have not (mly to be fed and guarded but to be housed; and all this at 
once, under penalty of their loss. Congress has plainly intended that 
they should be preserved, and that some sort of roads and access for 
the publi<' should be provided this year. 

The result has necessarily been, that with every elTort to obtain j)er- 
maiu'ut results there has been a partial expenditure of the absolutely 
insufticieut grant on enfor(;ed expedients of a temjjorary character, 
which are not in the interest of economy. 

It is extremely desirable that a sum (or emergencies be secured in the 
next appropriation. In carrying forward, from the beginning, novel 
and untried work of such varied clmracter. unforeseen diliicnlties nuist 
iiu'vitably arise, but no provision has been made Ibi- these, nor even for 
such readily anticipatecl emergencies as are caused, for instance, by 
floods in grounds traversed by a stream which has been known to rise 
C feet in less than half an hour. 

The difficulties which these c )nditions have imposed <m the admin- 
istration of the park may be laiily called extreme, and the amount and 
character of what has been effected nnist be considered in this con- 
nection. In s])ite of these the result, 1 thiidi, may be said to be, that 
atleast as a sonr(;e of inteiest and anuisement to the people the i)ark 
has exceeded the most sanguine expectations." 


It will be observed that, of the $101,350 asked, two-thirds were for 
buildings and grounds which, if not provided for, could wait with com- 
paratively little inconvenience, whik' the reuiaining third, or $85,000, 
was for the care and food of living animals, for policing of the park 
and for the safety of the public, matters which, when the garden was 
once opened, could not wait, and could not be materially diminished, 
but constituted a comparatively fixed sum without which the park 
could not go on, and which should therefore be given nearly as it 
stood or withheld altogether. Congress, however, it will be seen, re- 
duced all these items nearly in the same proportion, that is, to about 

Two-thirds of the desired appropriation was of a natnre that could 
perhaps be reduced one year and made good later; the other third (that 
for food of living animals and maintenance), as painful experience has 
shown, could not be materially reduced and could not be made good 
later; and it is the deficiency on this item that has been the special 
cause of the difficulties of the administration. 

Inadequacy of appropriations. — Embarrassment also arose from the 
fact that the small amount ap])ropriated was specified and allotted un- 
der three separate subordinate heads and in three nearly equal amounts, 
although the needs were not equal. As the bounds of these allotments 
could not be overstepped, it occurred that, while there were relatively 
sufficient funds under one item (the care of grounds), there was entire in- 
adequacy under the much more essential head which i)rovided for the 
maintenance and care of living animals. No matter liow great the emer- 
gency or serious the need, it was, of course, impossible to change this 
allotment, and while the total appropriated by (Jongress might, by close 
economy, have been sufficient, yet there was danger that the animals 
would be unfed and that the force of watchmen and keepers, although 
overworked, would be i n adequate for their proper protection ; and as there 
existed no authority to give away or sell the animals, disaster of some 
kind would have ensued but for the aid indirectly given by the Smith- 
sonian Institution. 

It may here be mentioned that it was expected that a large number 
of animals would be obtained from the Yellowstone National Park, 
that being the principal great preserve for wild game C(mtrolled by the 
Government of the United States. With the consent of the honor- 
able the Secretary of the Interior, a hunter was employed to capture 
large wild animals in cimsiderable numbers, which were to be for- 
warded to the park at Washington. When a number of bears, deer, 
and elk were thus obtained, the reduced apinopriations were insufficient 
to continue his employment or to transport the animals already captured. 
A still more regrettable consequence was the necessity of refusing abso- 
lutely all gifts made by the public, as there were no means of paying for 
the transportation of animals or for tlieir subsistence when received. This 
has been a serious disadvantage to the collection, not only at present, 


but as regards its future, tor it need liardly be said that it lias dis- 
couraged and vebuiited uiaiiy i)ublic-si)irited citizens who would have 
been glad to ])rcseiit animals to the park, and who \\ill now cease to 
have any further interest in the enterprise. 

DinKjvrs hi/frcshcf. — On tiie .Ith of September, 1S!»1. a tieshet ot un- 
usual violence inva<h'd the valley of K'ock (^reek. Such was the rapid- 
ity of the increase of water that in less than half an hour tlie little 
stream had risen feet and had become a torrent of considerable mag- 
nitude and ])ower. The piers lor the bridge had Just been completed, 
but the banks above and below were not yet ])rotected from the abra- 
sion of a flood. In consecpience of this the water formed an eddy 
near one of the piers, causing it to break, and cracked one of the abut- 
ments. It is believed that this unfortunate accident was not due to any 
defect in the design of the pier (wliich was constructed un(hn' the com- 
l)etent supervision of the late Gen. ]Meigs), but rather to the fact that 
the frcslu^t occurred betbre the neighboring banks weie iirojicrly pre- 

The damage to the pier was by no means the total extent of that 
caused by the flood. The bear-yards, then nearly completed and ready 
for occupation, were very seriously injured by the precipitation into 
them of many tons of rock and earth. Tins made it evident that the 
bank of earth and decomposed rock on the cliff above the yards could 
not be depended on without some additional safeguard. The heavy 
fall of water seriously injured and cut away the new r< ►ads, gutters, 
and drains that were yet fresh and unsettled, removed whole banks of 
earth from fresh slopes and washed oiit trees and bushes. The creek 
changed the level of its banks, cutting out a new channel for itself in 
several i)laces, and < overed the slopes with hundreds of tons of gravel 
and sand, and occasionally even deposited considerable stones, which 
were lifted by the rushing water and left upon the grass as a. striking 
evidence of the violence of the flood. Imnu'diate stei)s were commenced 
to repair the damage, butthis work was not completed within the flscal 
year on account of the insufficiency of the appropriation. 

The bear-yards are in an abandoned (]uarry, adjoining a i)recipice 
whose summit is upon tlie extreme boundary line of the])ark. For this 
reason no permanent i)rotection can be provided until the Government 
secures tlie few contiguous roods needed at the top. With this the sum- 
mit of the precipice, formed of the original rock, would constitute the 
cheap and natural barrier. For protection uiuler the actual, existing 
conditions, the only measure (and it is both incomplete and expensive) is 
to build a I'ctaiuing w;dl reaching from the solid rock of the cliff high 
enough to hold any detritus that might be disjjlaced by the action of 
rain or frost.* This has been commenced, but left incompleted owing 
to lack of funds. 

*.See illustnitiuii, Ii:it<' II. imgv. 11. 


A considerable force of men was employed in repairing the roads, 
gutters, and drains, and in diverting tlie course of the stream so as to 
prevent further erosion of the banks. The amount expended in par- 
tially repairing the damage caused by the freshet was nearly $5,0(H). 
This unexpected demand upon already insufficient appropriations was 
another cause of embarrassment. 

Influx of visitors. — Public interest in the park has steadily increased 
from the beginning, and even in its present unfinished state the number 
of visitors in a single day sometimes reaches from five to ten thousand 
or more. It was supposed that when the collection should be of notable 
size, when the buildings were completed, the grounds improved, and 
the means of access ample, that a large number of visitors would fre- 
quent the park, but so very large and so immediate an attendance could 
hardly have been anticipated. It was Ibund that the force of watch- 
men was quite insufilicient properly to direct and control the throngs of 
people that on holidays passed through the unfinished houses and along 
the roads and paths. There are five entrances to guard, and eight sep- 
arate houses and inclosures where animals and property are kept, so 
far distant from one another that a watchman or keeper should be 
stationed at each, while in the larger houses, like the general animal 
house and the elephant house, it is desirable to have more than one 
keeper on hand, during the presence of great crowds, botli for the pur- 
pose of protecting children as well as to prevent mischievous individ- 
uals from injuring the animals. The services of the keepers are required 
chietiy in the day, but there must be watchmen to relieve each other 
during the whole twenty-four hours. Under these circumstances, the 
appropriation allowed— for the guarding of the animals, the public, and 
the policing of the 107 acres by day and l)y night— but six men includ- 
ing both watchmen and keepers. 

Defideney appropriation. — In view of these and other circumstances 
it seemed proper to ask a measure of relief from Congress. The fol- 
lowing estimates were accordingly framed and a deficiency appropria- 
tion asked to meet them : 

JSlatio)ial ZooJo<iical Fnrlc: Tin2)rov€m€nts— 

For contiiiuiiig the coustructiuu of roads, walks, and bridges, and for 
grading, plantiug. aud otlierwise improviug the grounds of the 
National Zoological Park, heiug a dcticiency for the fiscal year 
1^392.. r .- $4,870.81 

Note.— I'liis appropriation is rendered necessary because of the 
storm of September 5. 1891, which greatly damaged the works of im- 
provement in the park. The sum asked is for the purpose of reim- 
bursing the appropriation for the amount actually expended in repair- 
ing those damages and preventing similar o(xurrouces for the future. 

Xational Zoological Pork : Maintenance, etc. — 

For care, subsistence, and transportation of animals for the National 
« Zoological Park, and for the purchase of rare specimens not other- 
wise obtainable, including salaries or compensation of all neces- 
sary employes and general incidental expenses not otherwise pro- 
vided for, being a deficiency for the fiscal year 1892 $4, 434. 00 

liEl'oirr OF THE .SECKHTAKV. 33 

y<ilii>in(l /.Diilnglcrtl Park : Maintenance, etc. — ('oiitimu'd. 

\(iTE. — This sum iiuliidi's: 
riiyiiient (il'cxtia watcliincii on Sun<ln>s and liiilidavs. ncicssarv lu- 

('•ause of till' meat intlu\ of visitors, i,S nun, 19 days t-acli, at if'j'. $fiS4. 00 

Transjioitation ol s|iec init'iis alri'ad,v oll'ercd to and jjuicliased liy tlio 
park, viz. : 

From Vtllowstonc I'ark ;ir>o. (Ill 

From South Anifri.a .".(lO.OO 

Fiom Australia 500.00 

(.'are and niaintcnante ot'th(^ ahovo aninuds 900. 00 

Cari" and maintenance of the (Icjiliants i)rf.sented and lent to the j)arl<. 1, 501). 00 

yalioiial Zoohxjical Park: Orgaithatioii, improvement, maintenance — 

For repairs to the Holt mansion to make the saims siiitalilc lor (kmmi- 
paiicy, aud for office fiuiiitiirt^ : 

To nay D(nereiix & Gaglian, plnmbiii.o- and oas littiiio- .t;i20. 17 

To l)ay Julius Lansbnrgh, chairs 14.00 

To pay 13arber cV Koss, onites l(i. 00 

To i)a.v' Georjte Breitbartb, chairs 25. 75 

To i)ay A. Eberly's Son.s, stoves 20. IJf) 

Total $420. 57 

Note.— The above liabilities were incurred under the supposition that tluty fould 
pi'operly be charged against other items of this appropriation. The First Comji 
trolhr is of tiio opinion that tbey should be charged this item. 

'I'd reiuibnrse the Smithsonian fnnd for assnmiug the expenses of labor 
and materials for repairs nrgeutly necessary for the preservation of 
the Holt mansion, including the foHowing: 

('. Biirlevr, concreting and pitching $00. 4^> 

licit & Dyer, doors and moldings '61.11 

H. C. Moimie, lathing and plastering 173. (54 

C W. Dawes, carpentry 24. 00 

W. O. .Strieker, carpentry H3. 00 

Church iV Steplieuson, Inniber 11(5. 22 

O. L. Wolfsteiner & Co., skyliglit 55. 00 

Total $U»!). 45 

Note. — The amount ai)propriated by Congress for repairs to the Holt mansion 
was exjieuded liefori; the rooi' was covered in, and upon the decision of the ( Jomp 
troller that it could not be covered in from the item for 'expenditures not other 
wise j^iirovided for," the Smith.soniaii Institution advanced this sum from its 
ju-ivate funds to |ireveiit the destruction by the weather of what had already 
been dolM\ 

l'(tr current e.\])ciiscs — 

I'o )»a.v Melville Lindsa.\' for riiblicr liootis lurnished to employes en- 
gaged to work in water in tlie National ZoiUogical I'aik 38.00 


NiiTK. — These boots were issued to the uieu cacli nioniiu.i; ai'il taken from tliciu 
at night. Ixdng worn only wbiltMin duly. Tlu; First Coiuplroller holds thai tlie 
sum can not jirojierly be paid without sjiecial legislation. 

(.\ll being for the si-rvice of tlie fiscal year 18i)l.) 

'rii(5 following' (leliciciicy uppioin-iatioii wa.s made by Coiij^rcss uiulcr 
(late of March 8, 1802: 

l"'(»r care and subsistence of animals I'or tlieXational Zo(ilo,i;ical I'ark, 
liscal year cinlde*!!! huiub'ed a'ld ninety-two, oue thousand dollars, oiu'- 
lialior w liicli sum shall be paid from tin; revenues of the District ol' 
('oluml)ia and the otiier half from the Treasury of the United Slalt's. 

I>(()iit((/('n (urd.sioncd hi/ tlia undue reduction of forcf. — As the season 
advanced and no additional api)ropriation was made by Congress, it 
became neeessaiy to reduce the expenses of the i)ark still furthei-. This 
was done by stoppino- all work upon the buildinj;s and iiroiinds, and 
r( tlueiny: the force till one watchman only could be on duty at a time, 
n. ]\Iis. 114 3 


and much danger to the public and many accidents to the animals en- 
sued in consequence. The deer and antelope were annoyed and injured 
by (logs, the flock of valuable Angora goats was nearly destroyed by 
being poisoned by visitors with laurel {Kalm'ia latifolia), and many 
other injuries were inflicted on the animals, while the administration 
was in anxiety lest some grave accidents, such as were almost to be 
expected under these circumstances, sliould occur amoug the crowds of 
visitors, embracing not only adults, but children, of the latter of whom 
there were often many hundreds present and unprotected. 

Tlijit tliis niixiety was not unwarranted was shown on the night of 
May 24, when a grizzly bear, during the absence of the single watch- 
man, scrambled up the ahnost perpendicular cliff' in the rear of t]\^i 
yards and escaped from the park. After fruitless attemjits to capture 
him, and the injury of one of the employes whom he wouuded, orders 
were reluctantly given to shoot him. 

The following letter, setting forth the urgent needs of the park, was 
addressed to the Secretary of the Treasury on January 23 : 

Smithsonian Institution, 
Washington, J). 0., January 33, 1892. 

Sir: 1 beg leave to invite your attention to the estimates under the 
Smithsonian Instituticm for the fiscal year ending rTune 30, 1893, duly 
submitted to you October 7, 1891, and to the modified form in which 
these estimates were transmitted to Congress, whereby it w(udd seem 
to be reciuumended that no increase be made over the amounts appro- 
priated for the current year. 

While feeling that all the amounts asked for by the Institution have 
been only such as are ade(piate with the strictest economy, I have to 
ask your especial attention to the tluee items for the National ZocUogi- 
cal iPark, /. e., Improvements, Ikiildings, and Maintenance. Disasters 
from floods and like contingencies for which no juovision w^as made by 
Congress in the appropriations for the i)resent year emphasize the 
necessity of securing the full amount estimated undei- the headings 
Improvements and Buildings, while there exists exceptional necessity 
in the item for Maintenance, which is essentially for the food and care 
of living animals. 

The approi)riations made by the act of March 3, 1891, for " nuiin- 
tenance" during the i)resent fiscal year (for which .$35,000 was asked), 
was $17,000, but the sum of $5,122.71 from the appropriation of April 
30, 1890, w^as available and has been used for this purpose; and even 
with this addition it has been necessary to ask fi)r a deficiency ap])ro- 
l)riation of $4,431, chiefly to cover expenditures which w^ere found to 
be absolutely necessary to prevent loss to the Government. 

The mininuim ex i>en(li tares for the present year under this item will 
therefore be $22,(;22.71; the expenses for the first six months being 
$14,209.73, or at the rate of $28,539.40 per annum. I trust, therefore, 
that it is made sufficiently clear that witli an appropriation of $17,500 
it will be impossible to properly care for an<l feed tlie animals now on 

Tliepast exjienditures would have been still larger but that the work 
on the accounts fin- the Treasury lias in part been done gratuitously by 
the Institution, which has also supplie<l free of cost office rooms, as weU 

KEi'oirr OF Till': secketaky. 35 

jistlu' aid and siqxM'visioii of uiij)aid naturalists. Tliis can notl)C reck- 
oned npon for the fnture, bnt lias been sanctioned bytlie Reuents as a 
means to nu'ct the exigency until the need of a larger a|)]>roi)riation can 
be rei)resented to Congress, and in the meantime the working force has 
been reduced to an extreme degree, the policing, foi- instance, being now- 
done by one watchnnm, aided by two employes who are largely engaged 
w ith othei- duties; and these three men are required to maintain order 
over an area of 1(!7 acres, visited during each day by thousands of people. 
Tliese <letails are mentioned in connectn)n with the fact that(unless sonu' 
small ])urchases of animals made at the outset be excepted) it is under 
like stringencies of economy in every branch of the administration that 
the expenses have already amounted, as shown above, to nioie than 
* 14.000 in six months. 

I can not too em])hatic-ally represent tlie peculiar difficulties that must 
aris(» in administering an insuflicient approi)riation for the care of liv- 
ing wild aninmls, unable to care for themselves where they are, if no 
provision has been nuide by Congress for disposing of them elsewhere. 

In view of increased expenses since the estimates were jnepared, due 
directly to the unexpectedly great i)opular interest manifested in the 
park, and to the extraordiimry increase of visitors, [ now feel com- 
])elled to either increase the estimate for maintenance to $30,000, to 
cover further contingencies, or to ask that the total appropriation 
re(]uested for the park be made in such form as to allow a certain dis- 
(aetionary power to meet them. If under the circumstances state<l, the 
latter would, in your judgment, be the more advisable course, I would 
resi)ectfully ask that you recommend to Congress that the three items of 
improvements ($1*0,000), l)uildings ($27,000), and maintenance ($20,000) 
be ai)propriated in one sum of $73,000, as follows: 

Nalional Zoolofiical Park, Smith no )ii(iii I)istiti(tioi) : 

Coutiuuiiiii the constructiDii of lojids, wnlks, ln-i(l.<;'es, water supply, soweni-j^o, iiiid 
( anil for uradiug, plaiitin<;-, and otherwise inipvovin.i; the. trronnds. orectin.";, 
and repairiui;- ltnildin.<;s and inclosures lor aiiinials and for adniinistrativc purposes, 
eare, snhsisteuee, and traus])ortation of animals and for the pnrehase or exchange of 
sp(3einiens not otherwise ohtainahle, in(duding salaries or eompensation of all neces- 
sary employes, and general incidental expenses not otherwise [irox ided for, .^"3,000. 

T have the honor to be, very resi)ectfidly, yours, 

S. P. Langley, 

The Se(;retauy of the TiiEASFiiY, 

]V<(slnn(/ton, 1). C. 

ISrotwithstanding tiiis urgent ap))eal, it was louiul, when the sundry 
civil ai)[)roi)riation bill was rei)orted t(^ the House, that but $20,000 
was recommended to be appropruitcd for the National Zoological Park. 
This was di\i<hMl into the following heads: 

Improvements $!•, •'"<) 

Hnildings 10.00(1 

Maintenance 10,000 

'IMie matter seemecl lo me so urgent ami serious as to dennind the 
immediate attention of the Regents. I therefore called a special tneet- 
iiig of the lioard and laid the matter before tliem. The result of that 
meeting will be seen in tlie following letter acUlressed to the President 
of the United States JSenale. 


Smithsonian Institution, 

Washington, April 3, lf<93. 

Sir : In accordauce with the instruction of the Eegents of the Sinith- 
soiiian Institution, I have the honor to transmit a resohition passed by 
them on the 29th of March, 1892, together witli the foHowing prelim- 
inary statement of the considerations on which it is based : 

The National Zoological Park was placed under the Regents of the 
Smithsonian Institution by the act of April 30, 1890, to l)e administered 
by them, first " for the advancement of science " and, second, " for the 
instruction and recreation of i)eople. " 

The necessity of protecting the unexpectedly large crowd of people 
that have been attracted to the Park and of i)roviding for their access 
to the animals, as well as for the protection of the latter, has made it 
necessary to assign to this secondary object a disproportionate share of 
the approi)riations, and it seems unavoidable that this subordinate 
feature should thus claim the larger portion of the expenses, as long as 
the collections are open to the iwblic, as in ordinary zoological gardens. 

The appropriations for the fiscal year 1891-92 were nuule under three 
heads: Improvements aiul care of grounds, $15,000; buildings, $18,000, 
and maintenance, $17,500, these amounts being about one-half those 
that were submitted to Congress as nectessaryto make preliminary pro- 
vision for the security and accessibility of the collections and to ad- 
minister their trust Avith safety to the public. 

The Eegents recognized the impossibility of doing this with such 
means; but, considering that the animals were already in the Park, in 
view of this public safety, and regarding the act as mandatory upon 
them, they, with the aid of a balance, economized, in anticipation from 
the original apj^ropriation made for the organization of the Park, and 
a deficiency item of $1,000, to meet urgent needs, have endeavored to 
get through the year until relief could be had from Congress. In doing 
so they have been obliged to reduce the number of watchmen and em- 
ployes of the Park in every grade till the iiublic safety threatens to be 
endangered, while yet a considerable part of these watchmen have been 
called on to labor continuously through Sundays and holidays ten to 
twelve hours a day without extra compensation, and have in other re- 
si)ects felt obliged to carry economy to a degree which would have been 
unjustifiable, except upon compulsion under such circumstances. 

They would, in their oj^inion, have been unable to administer the 
Park to the close of the fiscal year, even under these conditions, had 
they not, in view of the emergency, also given without charge the 
services of officials and employes paid from the private Smithsonian 
fund. The total expenditure for maintenance during the current year 
may, under these conditions, be expected to be $23,000. These facts 
were represented by them through the Secretary of the Institution in a 
letter dated January 23, 1892, to the Secretary of the Treasury (a copy 
of which is a])pended) and by him transmitted to Congress. 

For the year 1892-93 the following estimates were sent to the Treas- 
ury Department: Improvements, $20,000; buildings, $27,000, and 
maintenance, $26,000. 

In the sundry civil bill (H. K. 7520) as now reported to the House 
of Re])resentatives, there is ai)propriated for improvements $9,000, 
for buildings $10,000, and for maintenance, $10,000; in all $29,000. If 
the Kegents considered, as they must, $9,000 as inadequate for a year's 
e\])enditure in laying out the roads and grounds in a new park of 107 
acres, they yet would not have felt compelled to make this present rej)- 
reseutation, since such improvements may await the action of a future 


Coiiiii'css; but. uiidcr tlic ;i|»]u<>|ni;iti<)ii for •• l)iiil(!iiii;s.'" t lie security 
of tlio nuiuiuls must hv pvovulvd for witliout delay, while under "main- 
tenance" come not only their food and warmth, but the ])rotectlon of 
theimblic; and that in tlu'case of animals, which are helpless to ])rovide 
tor themselves and dangerous if not liuardiMl, can not wait future action, 
has been a pressin<i' consideration to tiuMn. 

The lie<ients think it pro])er to remark that the roads of the i)ark in 
the vicinity of the caj^es have bi'en crowded with visitors, to the num- 
ber of as many as 10, ()()() in a day, l)efore there was time to juake any 
means for the permanent care of the animals, or pro\ ide proper roads 
to get to them, even had the means for these been api)ropriated, and 
that there is, in their Judginent, e\ery reason to expect during the com- 
ing summer the visit of still larger throngs, composed n(»t only of adults, 
but of children. 

The Kegents feel desirous to represent that they can not be held re- 
s])onsiblelbr the imnn'nent danger which nuist result, ujuler the contem- 
jilated withdrawal even of these means for })rotection which exi)erience 
lias already shown to be absolutely insufficient. They Avould also ask 
attention to the fact that small as the a])propriation is, it is in several 
items, and that under no emergency is any discretion allowed them as 
to their relative amounts, although the whole matter of exi)enditure is 
here for a novel puri^ose, on which only experience could decide the 
relative exigency of each part. 

if Congress intended tliat the park must be maintained on the ap- 
l)ro])riation under which the liegents have been unable to administer it 
t lie last year (improvemeut, $ir),0(>(); buildings, 8l'S,0U0; maintenance, 
><17,r)()0), they deem it reasonable to bring the attention of Congress to 
the fact that a discretion might pro[)erly be exercised by them as to what 
])ro})ortion they should ap]>ly to the imminent needs of the ])ublic safety 
and what to matters of less urgency, aiul that they should either be 
allowed to exjiend on tlie part upon which the safety of the public and 
the existence of the animals especially depends, that which their ex- 
])erience has sliown to be indispensable, or that they should be relieved 
of responsibility for the conse(]uences. 

They .desire to add in further explanation that they do not sni)p()se 
that with the total ap]»ropriation of $r)(),0()0, of which .si*(i,(>(K) is for 
''maintenance'' (mentioned in the resolution), the park can be i»ro]ierly 
conducted, and that they beli«^ve this sum to be in fact inade(iuate for 
such (conduct, their intent being to state to Congress the sum below, 
which, according to their experience, it is im])ossible to undertake that 
the i)ark shall be carried on another year, tliough not credital)l.\', yet 
without most ])robab]e danger. 

The resolutions are as follows: 

Mahc II L'!», 1S!I2. 

Itcsuli'i-d, Tliat the lioanl of Rogcnts of tlie .Smitlisoiiiaii Tiistiditioii would rcspcct- 
I'lilly icjire.scut to Couj^rcss flu; iiiii)o.s.sil)ility of niaiutaiuiiig tlie United States Na- 
tional Zorijo^ical Park, ic(|nircd I>y the act of ('ouj;ies.s of April :{(), lS!tO, witli a 
less tot;il api>ropriation than .foO.OOd. of whicii at least .t2(),()0() will he r(M|uircd for 

h'tsolrcd, That the Secretary of the Institution he re(|Me,sted to coniniiniic.ile tliis 
resolution to the President of the Senate and Speaker of the Mouse, with a jJieliiMi- 
nary st:iteMi(Mit of the reasons and considerations on which it is l)ased. 

I ha\-e thehoiioi' to be, sir, with great respect, your obedient ser\ ant, 

8. P. Lanclkv, 

lion. Lkvi p. Morton, 

President of the Senate. 


[HiMlsf Kx. llil.-. Nn. 1(12, l<'i|■t,^ 

Trkastry Dkpartmknt, Junuarji 2't, 1S92. 
Sin: I liave tlio Imnor to transmit liercwith, fov tlic ronsidcratioii of Congress, a 
coniijuinicatiou Irom the Secretary ol'tlie Sniitlisonian Institution otthe 23(1 instant, 
in relation to the estimates on page 281 of the JSook of Estimates, for the fiscal year 
1803, submitted for the improvement, maintenance, etc., of the Natiom-.l Zoijlooical 
Park, District of Columbia, for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1893. 
Respectfully, yours, 

O. L. Spattlding, 

Activr/ Secreffirij. 
The Si'KAKKi: oi-^ thk Housf, of Rkpkfsentatives. 

Smithsoxiax Ixstitutiox, 
Wd.ihuti/ioti, J). ('., JcDi liar 11 :.'■'), 1S92. 

Sir : I beg leave to invite your attention to the estimates under the Smithsonian 
Institution for the fiscal year ending .lune 30, 1893, duly submitted to you October 
7, 1891, and to the modified form in ^vhich these estimates were transmitted to Con- 
gress, whereby it would seem to be recommended that no increase Tie made over the 
amounts a])propriated for the current year. 

Whilu feeling that all the amounts asked for by the Institution have lieen only 
such as are adequate with tlu' strictest economy, I have to ask your special atten- 
tion to the three items for the National Zo(>logical Park, /. c, improA^ements, build- 
ings, and maintenance. Disasters from Hoods and like contingencies, for which no 
])rovision was made by Congress in the appropriations t(n' the present year, enqdui- 
size the necessity of securing the full amount estimated uiuler the headings Improve- 
ments and Buildings, while there exists exceptional necessity in the item for 
maintenance, which is essentially for the food and care of living animals. 

The appropriations made by the act of March 3, 1891, for "maintenance" during 
the present tiscal year (f(u- which $35,000 Avas asked), was $17,500, but the sum of 
$5,122.71 from the appropriation of April 30, 1890, was available and has be<Mi used 
for this pnri)osc; and even with this addition it has been necessary to ask for a defi- 
ciency appropriation of $4,434, chieliy to cover expenditures which were found to be 
absolutely necessary to prevent loss to the (lovernmeut. 

The minimum expenditures for the present year under this item will therefore be 
$22,622.71; the expenses for the first six numths being $14,269.73, or at the rate of 
$28,539.46 i>er annum. I trust, therefore, that it is made sufficiently dear that with 
an a])]tropriation of$l7,500 it Avill beimpossible to properly care for and feed the an- 
imals now on hand. 

Th<^ past expenditures would have been still larger but that the work on the ac- 
counts for the Ti'easnry has in part been done gratuitously by the Institution, which 
has also snit])li(^(l free of cost office rooms, as well as the aid and supervision of un- 
paid naturalists. This can not be reckoned upon for the future, lint has been sanc- 
tioned by the Regents as a means to meet the exigency until the need of a larger ap- 
propriation can be represented to Congress, and in the meantime the working force 
has been reduced to an extreme degree, the iiolicing, for instance, being now done by 
one watchman, aided by two employes who are largely engaged with other duties; 
and these three men are reijuired to maintain order over au area of 167 acres, visited, 
during each day^ by thousands of peo]>le. These details are mentioned in connection 
with the fact that (unless some small juirchases of animals made at the outset lie 
excepted) it is under like stringencies of economy in every branck of the adminis- 
tration, that the exjienses have already amounted, as shown above, to more than 
$14,000 in six months. 

I can not too emphatically represent the peculiar difficulties that mrist arise in 
administering an insufficient approi>riation I'or the care of living wild animals, un- 
able to care for themselves where they are, if no provision has been made by Con- 
gress for disposing of them elsewhere. 

In view of increased expenses since the estimates were prepared, due directly to 
the unexpectedly great popular interest manifested in the park, and to the extraor- 
dinary increase of visitors, I now feel compelhMl eitlu'r to increase the estimate for 
maintenance to $30,000, to cover further contingencies, or to ask that the total ap- 
propriation requeste<l for the jiark be made in such form as to allow a certain discre- 
tionary power to meet them. If, under the circumstances stated, the latter would, 
in your judgment, be the more advisable course, I would resjjectfully ask that yon 
recommend to Congress that the three items of improvements ($20,000), building 
($27,000), and maintenance ($26,000) be appropriated in one sum of $73,000, as fol- 

"National Zoological Park, Smithsonian Institution: Continiiingtlie construction 
of roads, walks, bridges, water supply, sewerage, and drainage, and for grading, 
planting, and otherwise improving the grounds, eregting and repairing buildings 

iM:i'()irr (»k thk sixMiF/rAKv. 39 

.•111(1 iiiclosmcs Cor animnls, ami lor ailiiiiiiistrat h c jjiirjioscs, care, suhsistiiii < . and 
(rausporlatioii of animals, ami lor ilic |)iirilias(! or ('X(liaii<;f of sprciiiifiis jiot othcr- 
wist' oltlaiiialilc, iuclmliiin- salaries or comix-nsatioii of all iifccssary cmiilovcs, and 
general iiieideiital exjieiisos not otherwise ]>rovi(led for. $7^,000." 
] lia\ e tlie honor to be, \-eiy res])ee.tfull,\-, yours, 

S. 1*. Lan<;i.kv, 

I'li(» SKcuiTAin oi lui. '^l;l,As^l;^ . 

It'tlshiiK/tiDI, />. C. 

The Coimaittec on Appropiiatioiisof tlie United States kSeiuite linally 
recommended tliat tlie sum allowed by the House for the Park bo raised 
to "^To.OlK), and that the amount be ;t])pi'oi)riate(l in one item, that is to 
say, without assigning- special sums to s])ecial subordinate heads. 

In the conference committee ui)on the sundry civil bill the amonnt 
recommended l)y the Senate was reduced to >*")(). 000, bnt the embarrass- 
ment of s])ecial snblieads of ai»]>ro})riation was removed. The bill was 
linally passed* in the following terms. 

National Zoiilogical Park: For continuing the construction of roads- 
walks, bridges, water siii)])ly, sewerage, and drainage; and for grading, 
planting, and otherwise improving th« grounds; erecting and rei>air, 
ing buildings and inclosures for animals; and for administrative pur- 
poses, care, subsistence, and transportation of animals, iiu'luding sala- 
ries or compensation of all necessary employes, and general incidental 
expenses not otherwise ])rovided for, tifty thousand dollars, one-half of 
which sum shall Ix^paid from the revenues of the District of Columl)ia 
and the other half iiom the Treasury of the United States; and a le- 
port in detail of the e\])enses on account of the National Zoological 
Park shall be made to Congress at the beginning of each regular ses- 

Worix (drccuJi) done. — Notwithstanding a compulsory waste of means 
caused by the fact that insufticient appropriations made it necessary 
to do certain urgent Avork provisionally and imperfectly, it is believed 
that results have been attained at a smaller expense than is usual in 
establishments of the same nature elsewhere. The following table 
shows the cost of the princii)al works i)roj(ict(Ml up to June .'iO, 1892, 

In elucidation of these statements, the ])lans and <lra wings of a 
])ortion of the work given (on a necessarily small scab' in the text) may 
be referred to (see Plates ii, iii, iv and v.) 


Ponds (still im-oiiiplete) $1,915.00 

Bear yards iind stone rotainiii';- wall ahove them (I'latc II) 1.. 501. 00 

Water sujiply 4, 400. 00 

.Sewerage and <lrainage 2, tiJM . 4.5 

Road.s and walk.s 18. i)!)5. 00 

I?ridge over Rock Creek, including re])air.s 8, 18ti. 00 

Cultivating, grading, i)lanting etc ;{, :i50. 00 

Services of engineers and landscape archite<!ts 1, 08s. oO 

*Owiug to the long session of Congress the hill did not heeome .-i law until August 
5, 1892. Although the scope of this report is confined to the tiscal yeai- ending .June 
i50, 1892, it seems desirable to conclude here the hislory of this session's oi)eration. 

t See Plate I. 



Plate T.— CicTicral Plan of (he KatioiKil Znolof;i<al I'ark. 

Entrance to offices (Holt house). 

Ontario avenue entrance. 

Princijial temporary entrance at Quarry 

Klinglc road entrance, communicating with 

(Juarry road by briille patli along left 

bank of creek. 
Connecticut avenue entrance. 
Entrance for foot passengers at Woodley 


No. 1. Bear yards in abandoned quarry. 
2. Animal house. 


Ko. 3. Birdinclosure. 

4. Inclosure for wolves aud foxes. 

5. Prairie-dog town. 

6. Property house. 

7. Temporary shed for elephants. 

8. Buffalo house and paddock. 

9. licstaurant. 
10. Croat paddock. 

] 1. Deer jiaddocks. 

12. Ponds for aquatic animals. 

13. Offices (Holt house). 

14. Stables. 





KEi'oirr or riii.: sKCRF/rAiiY. 43 

111 II.DINO \,\li INt l,i»l Ki;S. 

T>;irgt> animal Iioiisc ( ,So(! I'lates III and 1\' ). incliKiiiiij (extension, luxating 

apjtaratus, and engine for rnnninj;' tlic sanui +1, nSO. 00 

P.nlMo and elk house (See Plate V) :;, :.:i7. 00 

Fences for ruminants and for small inelosures ( includin,<; small shelters ) . . 2, il57. 00 

Boundary fence for Park 1 , '^~m. 00 

Holt house ( offiee of the Park ). rc])airin;i and office furniture 2. 000. 00 

Stable and shed 2, (500. 00 

Tool house, shops, and sheds 1. 270. 00 

Elei)hant house ( temporary ) 1, 099. 00 

111 tlie npi)eii(lix to the "estiinates"* for tlio year ending June .')(>, 
1802, on ])afie 299, will be fonnd a statement oi' the orif>inal estiniat(^ 
for tlie Park, niade, it will he reniemhered, with the expeetation that 

I'T.ATl. I\'. IMnii 111' Trhx ijinl Aiiiiiinl Tf<niso. NiitioTinl /ii(;ii)i;ii;il I'liiK 

the «if rounds were to be used essentially in hirji^e i)reserves tor the pres- 
ervation of the national large game. 

'Fifty-first Congress, 2d session ; U.K. Kx. Doc. No. 5. 



The area occupied by tlie buildings and iiiclosiires for animals in the 
Park is not far from 40 acres. 

Work for the next fiscal year. — The limited amount appropriated by 
Coug-ress will not permit a rapid development of the Park. Kearly 
$30,000 of the sum allowed will be required for the feeding and care 
of the animals and the maintenance of the necessary staif of employes. 
Tlie remainder will be applied to carrying out the plans already de- 
vised; that is to say, to completing the structures yet unfinished, 
making secure the inclosures and building additional quarters where 
necessary, in strengthening the banks of tlie ci-eek agaiust erosion, in 
completing the ponds for aquatic animals, in extending somewhat the 
water supply, sewerage, and drainage, and in grading and <lressing 
the roads and slopes. 

Pl-ATE v.— House for Bison and Elk. 

There is an urgent need for a better structure for the elephants than 
the temporary barn which was hastily erected for their accommodation 
and which they have ever since occupied. It is calculated that a com- 
plete building suitable for the accommodation of elephants and other 
animals of the same general habits and needs would cost about $15,000. 
Only a portion of this sum need be appropriated for the present, as the 
house could be built upon a plan that admits of enlargement. 

Access to the 2Hirl:—T\ie. Rock Creek Bail way Company intend, as I 
understand, to carry a branch of their road directly to the Ontario 
avenue entrance to the park and to transfer passengers from all the 
city street-car lines without extra charge. In that case there is no 
doubt that the number of visitors will be greatly increased. The widen- 
ing and improvement of Quarry road and the extension of Kenesaw 

KEPoirr ov vuK siu'kktarv. 45 

iivoiiiic to the p.irk lilies oil tlic Citstwanl will also tend lo incicasf llic 
ease ofae(;ess to the park. 

Additious to the collections. — Tlie collection is now addc*] to only 
tlirougli <>it'ts made by i)nl)lic-spiritedcitizensa!i(l liie soinewiiat linnted 
accessions derived from the Yellowstone Park. As before meiitii»ne(l, 
lack of fuuds lias preveuted any notable increase from these sources. 
It is decreased by the inevitable d<'aths which the experience ol' older 
zo()l()gical gardens shows will not be less than from LM) to .'>() per cent 

Accessions from the Yellowstone Park are iisnally limited to a. very 
nari'ow range of specimens and can not be deiK'iided on for j)roducliig 
a really valuable and characteristic collection oi" the North American 
fauna. Under the terms of the first appropriation act it was allow- 
able to [)rocure by purchase "rare specimens nototherwise attainable." 
This provision was nearly ineffective owing to the inadequate fund 
given, and it was omitted from the act passed at the recent session ot 

The total niind)er of animals in the park is 44.S <»!' which .'>4(> arc in- 
digenous to North America. Fifty-five of the animals were obtained 
by i)urchase. 



Montgouiery Cunningham Meigs was a son of the eminent physician 
and medical autli(n\ Charles J). IVFeigs. He was born May .'i, ISK!, in 
Augusta, (ly.. and graduated from the United States Military Academy 
at West Point in 1S36. He was assij^iied first to the artillery service, 
and snbsequently to the Corps of Engineers. In 1852 he was directed 
to make a survey at Washington, T). C, with the view of determining 
the best plan for supplying the city with water. The ])lan proposed 
by him received the approval of the War Department and was adopt(;d 
by Congress, General Meigs, then a captain of engineers, being 
charged with its execution — a task that occupied his attention Un- a 
l»eriodof ten years, and which he complete<l with signal siu-ccss. During 
the prosecution of this important work Capt. Meigs was also placed in 
<'liarge. as supervising engineer, of the north and south extensions ol 
the Cai)itol, and of the construction of its crowning iron dome, as well 
as ot the noithcrn extension of the General Post-Oflicc Uiiilding. 

lie ser\ed with eminent distinction throughout the war of the re- 
bellion, leaching the rank of brigadier-general in chargeof the (^)iiarter- 
niaster's Department. The place s(mght him not only for liis high in- 
tegrity and acknowledged cai)acity for business, but on account of the 
strength of his personal character. In 1S(!1 he received the well earned 
title of brevet major general in the xVrmy. 


With the close of the war ends the most active period of his life, 
and begins the gentle course of an honored old age, devoted among 
other occupations to tlie advancement of the best interests of this In- 
stitution. He was a member of the ]S"ational Academy of Sciences and 
one of the fonnders of the Philosophical Society of Washington. He 
was appointed by a joint resolution of Congress in 1885 a Regent of the 
Smithsonian Institution, and from his entrance into the Board became 
an active member of its executive committee, which positions he tilled 
until his death, which occurred at his residence in this city on the 2d 
of January, 1892, 

Of Gen, Meigs as a man alike in external or in moral aspects, one 
cau only speak in terms of respect. Personally, he will be remem- 
bered by all, even until his very last days, as erect in carriage, with a 
soldierly bearing which did not recognize the lapse of years, and a 
manner both dignified and engaging. In character he was not only 
conscientious and sagacious, but firm at a time when tirmness tried 
every quality of a man. What more can be added when we have said 
that he was a nnm faithful in all things, who has left behind him a repu- 
tation both high and enduring? 


Noah Porter was born in Farmington, Conn., December II, 1811, and 
graduated at Yale College in 1831, During a tutorship in Yale in 1833- 
1835, he devoted himself Jto the study of theology. He was appointed pro- 
fessor of moral philosophy and metaphysics at Yale in 1846. In 1871 
he was called to the presidency of Yale, which post he resigned in 1880. 
During President Porter's administration the progress of the college 
Avas marked. As a teacher, and in his personal relations with the 
students, he was one of its most popular presidents. He received the 
degree of D. D. from the University of the city of New York in 1858, 
and that of LL. D. from Edinburgh in 188G. His writings cover a wide 
range of subjects, but are mainly philosophical. He was one of the 
most scholarly metaphysicians this country has produced. His con- 
nection with the Smithsonian Institution began January 20, 1878, 
when he was elected to the Board of Regents by a joint resolution of 
Congress, as a citizen of Connecticut, and this connection terminated 
with his resignation December 31, 1889, on account of failing health. 

His death occurred on March 4, 1892, in the eightieth .\ear of his age. 
President Dwight said of him in an address delivered at his funeral: 

He was strong in the native force of his mind, (luick in liis mental 
action, keen in his insight, ttrm in his grasp of truth, )ich in his think- 
ing, but most of all, wide in his reach. His eye kindled with enthusi- 
asm as he saw the lirst opening of new ideas. His face beamed with 
joy as he gained new measuies of knowledge. The field of truth was 
full of attractiveness for him, and he was glad to enter it by any path- 
way. He has been in the brotherhood of scholars a man of mark and of 


iiitluLMicc. lie has coniinaiidcd respect for liis learniiii;'. He lias coiii- 
iiieuded leariiiiiu' by his own possession ofit. lie has stinuihited those 
iHMirest to him by his many tlionj^hts, by Iiis wide interest in many 
departments ol" knowledi^e, and by his free and libera! s})irit. He has 
kept an open mind for trntli and an open heart for his friends. lie lias 
stood among us as one of the ablest men iu intellectual power whom we 
have known in these past years. 

liesi)ectfully subn i i 1 1 ed . 

S. P. LanCtLEY, 

iScvrctitri/ of the /SmithsoninH IntititHfioii. 

APPENDIX To SH(1{I7I\VPV'S l{KP()lv'1\ 



SiK: Etliii()l(),i;ic researches aiiioiii; the North Aineriean Indians weri' euntinned 
luiih'r tiio .Secriitary of the Sniitli.sonian Institution, in (•onipliaiic<' witli acts o('(Joii- 
■ (hiring the. year 1891-'92. 

A report upon tlie work of the year is most i-imveuiently inesented nnih-r two 
general heads. \iz. fiehl work and otHce work. 

it'lELl) WOKK. 

The tiekl work of the year Is divided into (1) an^hajology and (2) general held 
studies, the latter being directed chiefly to religion, technology, and linguisties. 

Archd'oliujical field work. — The explorations of the Bureau for the last fiscal year 
wer<! eonf inued under the personal supervision of Mr. W. II. Holmes, with Messrs. 
Cosmos Mindeleff, (ierard Fowke, and William Dinwiddle as assistants. 

The worlc begun in the tide-water regions of Maryland and Virginia in the sjiring 
of 1891 was continued throughout the present year. Careful attention was given 
to the examination and mapping of the shell deposits of the Lower Potonuxc and the 
Ciiesapeake, ami many of the historic village sites visited by John Smith and his 
;issoeiates were identified and examined. Tlie renuiins ni)on tliese sift^s i\n; idtmtical 
with those of the many otiier village sites of tlu^ region. Mr. Holmes studied the 
;ir('lueology of South, West, and Khod*; riviu-s and of the shonssof tlie bay above and 
below Annapolis. The middle Patux<'nt was visited and the site of tiie ancient vil- 
lage of Mattpanient idontitied and examined. Tin^ valley of the Happahannock in 
the vicinity of Fredericksburg and a number of the othtu- western tributaries of the 
Potomac received attiMition. Ancient soapstone (juarricis, one in Fairfax (bounty, 
Va., three in Montgomery County, Md., and one in Howard County, Md., were 
studied, and collections of the (luarry rejecrs and imi>lements used in (|uai'rying and 
<-utting the stone were obtained. 

In .Inly Mr. Holmes made a trij) to Ohio to assist in the resurvey of sev«^ral geo- 
inotrii; earthworks at N(!wark and near Chillicothe. A visit was made, to the great 
llint quarries in Licking County, between Newark and Zanesville. Tliis wtdl-known 
(jiiarry is one of the most extraordinary pi(^(■es of aboriginal work in tlie country, 
and the evideuci! of pitting and t reiiidiini; and <d' the removal ;iiid working nj) of 
great bodies of the flint are visilde on all sides, the aork having extended over many 
square miles. Numerous hammer stones aud large bodies of the refuse of manufac- 
ture are seen. The chief product of the work upon the "ite here as elsewhere A\as a 
thin blade, the blank from which various implements were to be specialized. The 
countless handsomely shaped and tinted arrow and )>fiints and knives scat- 
tered over Ohio aud the ucighborlug States arc derived chiefly Irom this site. 

H. Mib. lU ^i 


When the work of le-suiveyiiig th<' earthAvoiks at Newark and Cliillieotlie was 
finislied, Mr. Holmes made a journey into Indian Territory to examine an ancient 
qnarry formerly su])posed to be a Spanish silver mine. It was reported by Mr. AVal- 
ter P. Jeuuey, of the Geological Survey, that this was reallj'' an Indian flint quarry, 
and the visit of Mr. Holmes confirmed this conclusion. Seven miles northwest of 
Seneca, Mo., and 2 or 3 miles west of the Indian Territory line there are numer- 
ous outcrops of massive whitish chert, and in x^laces this rock has been exten- 
sively worked for the purpose of securing flakable material for the manufacture of 
implements. The pits and trenches cover an area of about 10 acres. They are 
neither as deep nor as numerous as the Flint Ridge quarries. The product of this 
quarry was also the leaf-shaped blades of the usual tyjie, the size being greater than 
in the other similar ipnirries of the country as a result of the massive unflawed 
character of the stone. 

In May Mr. Holmes visited and examined a numbta- of extensive ([uarries of novac- 
ulite in Arkansas, one of which had been visited during the previous year. A great 
(juarry situated upon the summit of a long mountainous ridge at the head of Cove 
Creek is the most extensive yet discovered in this country. The ancient excavations 
extend along the crest of the ridge for several miles. The largest jiits are still 2o 
feet deep and upwards of 100 feet in diameter. The product, of this ciuarry was also 
leaf-shaped blades of the type obtained from the other tjuarries, and closely aualiv 
gous in size, shape, and appearance to those of Flint Ridge, Ohio. Mr. Holmes next 
passed north into Stone County, Mo., to visit a very lai'ge cave situated about 
20 miles southeast of Helena, the county seat. Neither human remains nor works 
of native art were found within the cave. The manufacture of chert implements 
had been carried on extensively in the surroumling region. From Stone County he 
went to southwest Minnesota, and spent ten days in the study of the red ]ti)>estone 
quarry so famous in the hist(n-y of the Coteau des Prairies. Evidence of the pre- 
historic operation of this quarry was found in the series of ancient pits extending 
across the prairie for nearly a mile in n narrow belt and following the outcrop of 
the thin layer of i)ipc8toue. 

The ancient copper mines of Isle Royale, Lake Superior, were next visited and 
mapped, and extensive collections of stone hammers were obtained from the very 
numerous pits and trenches. 

Mr. Holmes then went west to Little Falls, Minn., to examine the locality from 
which certain flaked ([uartz objects, supposed to be of paleolithic age had been 
obtained. It was found that these bits of quartz were the refuse of the manufacture 
of blades of cjuartz by the aborigines and at a period not necessarily more remote 
than the period of quarry working already described. 

Mr. Cosmos Mindeleff, early in July, 1891, closed the field work on the Rio Verde, 
in Arizona, an account of which was given in the last annual report, and returned to 
Washington, after which time lu' was engaged for the remainder of the fiscal year in 
office work. 

Mr. Gerard Fowke completed the exploration of the .Tames River and its northern 
tributaries, making interesting discoveries in Botetourt, Bath, Alleghany, and High- 
land counties. He then began an examination of the prehistoric remains of the 
Shenandoah Valley, remaining in the field until December. Later he examined the 
islands and coast between the Savannah and St. Johns rivers, locating mounds and 
shell heaps. In the s])ring he resumed w^ork in the Shenandoah Valley, making a 
careful and thorough investigation of every county. The results show that this re- 
gion was not the seat of any permanent occupation by the aborigines, though it 
seems to have been a place of resort for hunters in lai'ge numbers. 

Mr. William Dinwiddle was engaged during the year in mapping and examining 
the shell banks and other aboriginal remains of the PotimKic-Chesapeake region. 

As Prof. Cyrus Thonuis was engaged most of his time during the year in necessary 
office work, his field work was limited. Finding it desirable that more accurate 


int'ormat inn in rciVrcnco 1o ccrtiiiii Miicicnt works in \';m(lcrlmiii County, liid., 
should lie obtaiiietl, lie euijngcd Mr. I". W. \Vrij;lit to iiiaki^ a careful survey and 
measurement of tlieni. As the result showed that they were of unusual inii)ortan(e 
oil account of their peculiiir character as compared with other ancient works of tin' 
same section, I'rof. Thomas thought it necessary to maki^ a personal examination of 
them, and did so. During the sam(> trip lie examined certain important monuds in 
Illinois, among which was tlie noted ••Cahokia" or "Monk's Mound," of Madison 
County, His object in tliis case was to asceiiaiu the present contlition of this re- 
markahh^ monumeut, and to investigate cert-am other jioints in r<datioii to which 
s;ttisfact<uy conclusions could he reaclnnl only by personal insjieclion. 

He also made during the summer aiuitlier examination of the Newark works and 
I'ort Ancient, in Ohio, iu order to settle some [loints which previous reports had 
overlooked. At his suggestiou the director had a icsnrvey made, under Mr. (Jaiinett's 
direction, of the four most noted circh^s of the Ohio works, tlie ]dane table being 
used to show their exact form as tlu^y at present appear. 

ilr. 1'. II, Cushing, during the summer and autumn numths ot' 1S!»1, made some ex- 
aminations on the shores of Lake Erie, near Butfalo, and of Lake ( Mitario iu Orleans 
County. \. v.. where he discovered pbttery of the well-known net-impressed lacust- 
rine or littoral type, and also, at the former point, some pits or slightly indurated 
cavities in the sand, which ho considered to be connected with the manufacture of 
that pottery. By experiments made without the aid of modern appliances of any 
kind he diiplicate<l the ancient, specimens found in the vicinity and show'cil tiiat 
these pits, lined with ordinary tishing nets, had actually been used simply and 
etfectivcdy for shaping ])ottery. fie has ]>repared an illustrated report giving the 
details on the subject. 

(iciirral field .siudieN. — In August, 1891, Mrs. Matilda C. Stevenson resumed her in- 
vestigations into the mythology, religion, and sociology of tlie Zuhi Indians, mak- 
ing careful study ol' the shrine worship, which constitutes such an important feature 
in the religion of those people. She added to the already valuable collection of 
photograjihs and sketches of their sanctuaries, made in previous years liy Mr. James 
Stevenson, and by the aid of the war priest of Zuni, secured from the tribe some 
interesting objects. 

Through the intluence of the war priest, the priest of the Ka-ka and thenrgists of 
the "medicine societies," Mrs. Stevenson was able to be presc^nt at Zuni cere- 
monials almost continuously fi'om the time of her airivalto her dej)arture in March. 

Dr. W. J. Hoffman proceeded early in August to the Menomonoe Jieservation, Wis- 
consin, in respons(> to an invitation from the Mitawok or chiefs of tln^ Mitavvit (or 
"Grand Medicine Society") of the Menomonee Indians, to observe the ritualistic cere- 
monies and order of initiation of a new candidate for membership, for comparison 
with similar ceremonials of other Algonquian tribes. In addition to the mythologic 
material collected at this attendance, he also secured much valuable information re- 
lating to the primitive customs and usages of the Mciuomonce for use in the ))r(!para- 
tion of a monograph upon that ])eople. Specimens of their workmanship were alsti 

As he had been appointed a special agent for makingetlmologic collections lor the 
(•xhibit to 1)0 made by the Bureau of Kthnology* at the World's Columbian Exposi- 
tion, he secured a collection of .Menomonee mateiial, as well as a number ol" <lesired 
objects at White Earth R(\servation, Minnesota. In May, 1892. he visited the Crow 
Agency. Mont., to procun- a coUecttion of articles to illustrate the industries and 
workmanship of the Crow In<lians. It was specially desirable to obtain .some of the 
elaborate <dothiug for which tlm tribe is remarkable. A uni(|ne series of articles was 
obtain(;d, after which a visit was made to the isolated bandof Ojil)wa at Leech Lake, 
Minn, to c(dlect various specimens desired to complete the collection illustrating 
early ()jil)wa history. 

On his return, Dr. Hotfman ag.iiu stopped al, i lie MtMiomonee h'eservation to make 


tinal collections of ethnologic material and to complete his studies of the ritual and 
initiatory ceremonies of the Grand Medicine Society, a meeting of which body had 
been called for this special purpose. He returned to Washington in June, 1892. 

Mr. James Mooney, during the held months of the fiscal year, continued the col- 
h?ctiou for an exhibit at the World's Columbian Exposition, of objects to illustrate 
the daily life, arts, dress, and ceremonies of the Kiowa in the southeastern part of the 
Indian Territory. That tribe was selected as continuing in its primitive condition 
more perfectly than any other which could be examined with profit. He succeeded 
in making a tribal collection which is practically complete, including almost every 
article in use among the Kiowas for domestic uses, and for war, ceremony, amuse- 
ment, or dress. A number of illustrating photogrnphs were also obtained. On his 
return in August this collection was labeled and arranged in cases ready for trans- 
portation to Chicago on the opening of the Exposition, and by means of the photo- 
grajjhs and costumes obtained several groups of life-size figures were prepared to 
show characteristic scenes in Indian life. 

In November he again set forth to obtain additional information upon the ghost 
dance, especially among the principal tribes not before visited. After a short stay 
in Nebraska with the Omahas and W' innebagoes, neither of whom, as it was found, 
had taken any prominent x>art in the dance, he went to the Sioux at Pine Ridge 
Agency, S. Dak., the chief seat of the late outbreak, where he collected a largo 
number of songs of the dance and much miscellaneous information on the sub- 
ject. From there he went to the Piiites in Nevada, among whom the Messiah and 
originator of the ghost dance resides. Here he obtained the statement of the doc- 
trine from the lii)s of the Messiah himself, took his portrait, the only one ever taken, 
and obtained a number of dance songs in the Piute language. He then returned to 
the Cheyennes and Arapahoes in the Indian Territory, among whom he had l)egun 
the study of the dance, and obtained from them the original hotter which the Mes- 
siah had given them, containing the authentic statement of his doctrine and the 
manner in which they were to observe the ceremonial. He returned to Washington 
in February. 

In May he again started out to gather additional ethnologic material, especially 
with regard to the Kiowas, and to obtain further collections for the World's Co- 
umbian Exposition. Going first to the Sioux, he proceeded next to the Shoshones 
and Northern Arai)ahoes, in Wyoming, and then turned south to the Kiowas, in the 
Indian Territory, where he was still at work at the close of the fiscal year. 

Mr. H. W. Heushaw, on May 14, 1892, proceeded to New Mexico and California 
for the ])nrposo of pursuing certain linguistic investigations and to make collections 
for the World's Columbian Exposition. This duty was continued until the close of 
the fiscal year. 

Rev. J. Owen Dorsey, from January 14 to February 21, 1892, made a trip to Le- 
compte, Rapides Parish, La., for the purpose of gaining information from the sur- 
vivors of the Biloxi tribe. He found only one person, an aged woman, who spoke 
the language in its purity, and two others, a man and his wife (the latter the 
daughter of the old woman), whose dialect contains numerous modifications of the 
ancient language. From these three persons he obtained several myths and other 
texts in the Biloxi language, material for a Biloxi-English dictionary, local names, 
personal names, names of clans, kinship terms, lists of flora and fauna, with their 
Biloxi names, and grammatical notes. Ho filled many of the schedules of a coi»y of 
the second edition of " Powell's Introduction to the Study of Indian Languages" 
(English-Biloxi in this instance). He brought to Washington a few botanical speci- 
mens, for which he had gained the Biloxi names, in order to obtain their scientific 
names from the botanists of the Smithsonian Institution. He photographed three 
Biloxi men and two women, all that could bo found. There were about seven other 
Biloxi residing in the pine forest 6 or 7 miles from Lecompte, but they would not 
be interviewed. The Biloxi language contains many words which resemble their 


fquivalents ill other >Sioiiau liin<]ciuigos, some ln-iiii; iiicnliciil in sduiul with th<^ cor- 
rcspondiiii;- words in I)al<ota. Wiiiiichago, etc. 'I'iic Hiloxi has ihdic chissiliors tliaii 
arc I'oMiid in th«' othei- hiiii;iia<;<'s of lliis lainil\ . and whilr it, uses ad\<'r)ts and coii- 
jiinctious, it often e\|ii-esses a suei'ession of actions liy mere juxtaposition of two, 
three, or more \crbs. In llie ]ianrity of moiled i)reti\es it may he cuniitared witli 
tlie Ilidatsa aud 'I'ntelo. and in tlie use of d'"' and t'^' it may he (hissed with tlie 
Kwajiai and IIi(hitsa. The information now L;ained peimits a tahulai- eompai'ison of 
the Hiloxi with the Hi(hitsa, Wiiinehago, ('ata\\l>a, and i'ntelo. thos<> ti\-e heinii '•'- 
garded as th<! archaic, hnignages of the Sionan family. 

Mr. Alhert S. (iaischcl, ha\'ing met witli little success in his ]>re\ious attempt, in 
1X81, to study the Wi(diita, language in the lield, continued to watidi for better o])]»or- 
tunities. lu 1892 he int^t twelve young men of that triix' in tin' ilducational Home 
(hranch of the TJncolu Institute) at riiiiadeli)liia. and selected four of the hrightest 
of their nuniher, who seemeil to he tlie most promising tlirongh I heir ad\ anced knowl- 
edge of English. With their hel]) he gathered about three thousand terms cd' \\'i('h- 
ita.A\hich isaCaddoan dialect, also a lafge nundicr of ])aradigms, sentences, and a, 
few mythological texts. A thorough inti-ridiangeability of the cDnsonanIs makes (he 
study peculiarly difficult. 

Maria.Vntonia, a young Costa Rica wouuin residing in I'hiladelpliia, was (| nest ion etl 
concerning what she remembered of her nati\e tongue, the (Juatuso. About one 
lluudr(^d and twenty vocahles were recorded as the result oi' th(> in(|uiry. Mr. 
(iatsclu't's field work extended from the beginning of Mai li to the b(\ginning of 
.luiic. lS<t2. 


The l')irect()r took s])ccial pains in the revision and correction of iiis work on tli(> 
" Indian Linguistic Famili(\s of America iu>rtli of Mexico," as it ])assed through the 
]ircss. The scope aud importance of this linguistic classification has hetV)re lieeu 
ex]daiue«l. and the pajx'r forms ]iart of the ,S(i\'enth Annual K'eport of the liureau, 
iniw issued. 

Col. (iarriek Mallery, II. »S. Army, was chieliy occu])ied in writing in linal form, 
for ])uhlication in the Tenth Annual Report of the bureau, a comi)rchensive paper 
on the '• ricture Writ ing of the American Indians,'' whi<h presents tlu^ result of 
scNcial years of personal exiiloration and study of all accessible material on that 
subjecf. At the close of the year, the nuinuscriid and the drawings for the large 
number of necessary illustrations liad been transmitted througli the Secretary of 
t he Smithsonian Institution to the I'ublic rrinter. C!ol. MalhMv was also, during 
the greater ])art of the year, charged with admiuistrativi^ duties and witli the exe- 
cution of a variety of special works under tlie instructions of the Director. 

.Mr. H. W. Honshaw, in addition to his usual administrativtsdutit^s, when not in the 
litdil as before mentioned, was employi^il in jtreparing the cxhilut of the IJureau for 
I lie Woi Id's Columbian Exj)osi(i()u at Chicago and also in tin; jucpai'ation of the 
forthcoming \olume on •■ Tribal Synonymy," tlm purport aiul utility of which have 
been explaiiuid in form(!r reports, lu tiiis woik ^Ir. Htmsluiw has had t he assistance 
of Mr. F. Webb Hodgt^, who has devotid sjiecial attention to the I'iman. Vuman, and 
the several Pueblo linguistic stocks. 

Tiie office work <d" Mr. W. H. Holmes consisted in the couniJi'tion of papers upon 
the pottery and shollwork of the abi)rigines of the United Statcss. .\ tliiid jiapcr 
was written upon the textih? fabrics otjtaiiu'd fruin the niound r<'gion, and a fourth 
upon the stono implements of the lidi'-water country. A llftli jiaper iijion the gen- 
eral arclueology of the region was commcni-cd. 

At the commemrement of tin; official year Prof. (!yrus 'fhomas was engaged in ex- 
amining and correct ing t he juoof of iiis ••Catalogue of I'nhistorie Works East of 
the Rocky Mountains," which was luiblisluMl in the lattei p;n 1 of ISiH. as a llnlletin 
of the Hureau. Tliis examinat ion in\.d\ed in many cases liie necessity >>{' -.i lefer- 
enee to the authorities i[uot<'(l. 


Much of lii.s time, during the year was einph)yeil iu writiug the flual pages of the 
report on the field work and explorations which for several years had heen in his 
chai'ge, and in adapting it to a change in the form and manner of its ]>ul>licati(m 
which had heen made necessary. This involved the re-writing of many pages and 
a material condensation of the introductory portion relating to the distributit)u of 
types of mounds. It was completed by the close of the fiscal year and filed for ])m1)- 
lication, nearly all the illustrations having been drawn and ])repared for engva\ - 

He devoted all his spare time to the study of the Maya Codices and iu the prepa- 
ration of a report of the discoveries he made therein. One of these, which is deemed 
of much interest and importance, is that, when the Dresden Codex, which is consid- 
ered the most ancient of those known, was written, the year consisted of 365 days, 
and that the calendar was arranged precisely as it was foixnd to be by the Spanish 
con([uerors. But his most important discovery was made during the closing days 
of the year. This consisted in what may be termed the discovery of the key to the 
signification of the hieroglyphic characters of the Codices by which it is probable 
that the inscriptions may ultimately be read. This discovery, which the tests so 
far applied appear to confirm, consists, first, in the evidence that the characters as a 
rule are phonetic and, second, in ascertaining the signification of a sufficient number 
to form a basis for the interpretation of the rest. If this discovery proves to be 
what, from the evidence presented, it appears to be, it Avill be of incalculable im- 
portance to American archaeology. 

Early in the year the Avork of Mr. Cosmos Miudeleff commenced in repairing and 
securing the preservation of the Casa Grande ruin. This work was ordered by act 
of Congress and plans had been prepared by Mr. Mindeleft" while in Arizona during 
the previous year. These plans provided for the excaA'^atiou of the interior of the ruin, 
the underpinning of the walls w^ith brick and cement, the use of tie-beams to hold 
the walls in place and render them more solid, the restoration of the lintels over door 
and window openings, and the filling of the cavities above the lintels with brick 
and cement. The work was completed in November and was inspected and ac- 
cepted. Although all that was deemed necessary to preserve the riiin could not lie 
done with the appropriation provided, still it is believed that enough was done to 
preserve it in its present condition for many years. All the work done was directed 
to the preservation of the ruin, no attempt at restoration being made. In .tune, 
1892, the President, in accordance wdth the authority vested in him by Congress, 
reserved from settlement twelve quarter sections about the ruin, comprising an area 
of about 480 acres. A number of specimens obtained duriug the excavation were 
sliipped to Washington and deposited iu the National Mnseiim. 

Duriug a part of the year Mr. Mindeleft' was engaged iu the prej)aration of a 
report upon his field work of the previous year. This report, entitled ''Aboriginal 
Remains in the Valley of the Rio Verde, Arizona," was completed and will appear iu 
the Twelfth Annual Report of the Bureau. Aside irom a comprehensive treatment of 
the ruins in the valley of the Verde the report will contain the first illustrations 
]iublished of ancient irrigating ditches, and the first comjirehensive data, including 
illustrations of cavate lodges. It is fully illustrated from photographs, plans, and 
surveys made by the author. .Subsequently lie rommenced a scientifii^ report on 
the Casa Grande ruin of Arizona. 

No new work was undertaken in the modelling room during the year, as the entire 
force was occupied upon the preparation of duplicates of models jireviously made, 
for use at the World's Columbian Exposition and elsewhere. Six models, in addi- 
tion to other material, were sent to Spain, to be exhiliited at the historical exposi- 
tion at Madrid. The series comprised models of the Puelilo of Znili, New Mexico, 
the Pueblo of Walpi, Arizona, Mummy Cave clilf rniu. Arizona, all of large size, and 
three smaller models of ruins. 


An iiidelinite lf;i\ <• oT iilisriiic witlioiit ]>a.v wjis granted fo Mr. Frank If. Cusliiiiij; 
in DocomluT, 188(i, in order tiiat lie niigiit organize and eondnet the iniiKtrtant e,x- 
ploralions in sdiitiiern Arizona and the Znni country ol the Sonthw(>8t(;rn Archa'o- 
higieal Exjx'dition estabiislied by Mrs. Mary IFemenway. of I'oston. His'nl 
I'ultiiliiiciit of til is work was suddenly inlei lupled in llic winter of ISS!) by a sev<'re 
and ])rostiat iug illness, whieii disiiblcd liiui until the sunniier of 1<S!)1. lie 
was therefoic unai)l(^ to resume iironiiscd wi>ik (ui his (dder Zuni material for the 
Bureau until August, 1891, when he b(\gau the preparation of a contribution in- 
tended to a])pear in the Twelfth Anunal Report of the l^ureau, on the Zuni myths of 
creation and nugratiou as related to the, mythic drama-dance organization, or Jutku 
of the Znnis, and the so-called Cachina ceremonials of all Pneblo and other south- 
western tribes. Mr. Cnshing's discoveries as set forth in this essay contirni and 
substantiate the opinion held by the Director that all ])rimitive so-called dance cer- 
emonials are essentially dramatic, ami they go so far as to indicate also that all 
])rindtiv(^ ceremonials, of whatever initnre, are essentially dramaturgic, thns making 
his contribution of general as well as of special significance. 

In January, 1892, Mr. Cnshing again reported at Washingtcni and was regularly 
engaged as an ethnologist of the Uurean on tlu! Isr of February, and h;is since been 
occuitied iu elaborating his paper on the myths of the drama dances and on a 
study of manual concepts or the influence of jirimitive hand-usages on nuuital de- 
velopment in frhe culture growth of mankind. 

Mrs. Stevenson returned from the field w<uk befort^ mentioned iu March, 1892, and 
was einploye<l for tlie reimiinder, of the fiscal year in ])re]>aring her field notes for 

Mr. G(a-ard Fowke was engaged during December and January in i)re])aring a, re- 
])ort of the season's w<n"k by him in archieology, arranging and classifying the speci- 
mens pi'ocured, and end)odyiug in rejiorts. ])revionsly prepared, tlie results of recent 

The office work of Dr. Hoffman consisted iu arranging the material gathered dur- 
ing the preceding field season ami in pre])aring for publication an account of the 
Midewiwin, or so-called ''Grand Medicine Society." of the Ojibwa Indians of AVhite 
Earth, Minnesota. This work, which forms (ure of the papers accompanying the 
Sc\enth Annual Report, (unbraces new material ami consists of the traditions of the 
Indian cosmogony and genesis of mankind, the "materia medica " of tli(> shamans, 
and the ritnalOf initiation, together with the musical notation of the chants and 
songs used. 

I Mning I lie winter and spring moidhs a delc.gat ion id' Meuomonce Indians from Wis- 
consin visited ^^'ashington and Dr. Hofiiuan freipieutly conversed with them to ob- 
tain information ex))lanatory of the less known ])racticcs of the Menomoncii ceremony 
(d' the Mitawit, or their "Grand Medicine Socitd.y," for the purpose of comparison 
with the ritual as observed ))y the Ojibwa. Iu addition a large nuiss of mythologies 
material was obtained, as well as texts in the Menomonee languagi!. 

On returning from the field iu August 1891, Mr. James Moouey spent about ton 
weeks in arranging his Kiowa collection for the World's Columbian Exposition, 
writing out a series of descriptive labels, and in copying all the more im]tortant 
<locinnents relating to the ''ghost dance" from the files of the Indian Ofiice and the 
War Dei)artmcnt. He then again went out into the field, as above stated, returning 
to Washington in I'eiuuary 1892. Alxmtthree months were then occnjiied in ar 
ranging the material thus obtained and in writing the ]»relimiiiary cha])((us of his 
report on the ghost dance. He su])erinteuded the })ieparation, at the National 
Museum, of a number (d' grou]»s of life-size figures to accomjiaiiy the Kiowa collec- 
tion at the World's Fair. 

I.'ev. J. Owen Dorsey coutinued the arrangement of Kwa]>a texts with interlinear 
and free translations and critical notes. He revi.sed the proof of " Omaha and I'onka 


Letters," a Ijullet ill prepaied from () eg ilia texts collected liy Tiiinself. He fiiiisbed 
the eollatiou of all the Tntelo words recorded by Dr. Hale. Mr. J. N. B. Hewitt, and 
biiuself, with the result that he hnd 775 words in the Tuteh)-Euglisli dictionary. 
He furnished a list of several hundred linguistic and sociologic questions to be used 
among Indian tribes, 'i'licse (jnestions were in addition to those contained in the 
second edition of l^twcil's Introduction to the Study of Indian Languages and were 
based on original investigations made by Mr. Horsey among the Sionan tribes. He 
prepared for pnblication the following articles: Siouan Onomatopes (sonnd-roots), 
illustrated by charts; The Social Oroanization of Siouan Tribes, illustrated by fig- 
ures consisting chiefly of material gained by himself from the Dakota tribes, the 
Omaha, Ponka, Kwapa, Osage, Kansa, lov.a, Oto, Missouri, Winnebago, and Tntelo ; 
Nanibozhu in Sionan j\Iythology; Games of Teton Dakota Children (translated and 
arranged from the original Teton manuscript in the Bnshotter <'ollection of the 
Bureau of Ethnology). 

After his return i'roni Louisiana he devoted most of his time to the arrangement of 
the material collected in his Biloxi note-books. He prepared a Biloxi-English dic- 
tionary of 3,183 words on about 7,000 slips in alphabetic order. He arranged the 
Biloxi texts for publication, adding to the myths (with their interlinear and free 
English translations and critical notes) a list of several hundred Biloxi phrases. 
In his article on the Biloxi kinship system, he gave 53 kinship groups, of which 
number only 27 have their counterparts in the Dakota, (f'egiha, and other Siouan 
languages of the Missouri valley. The elaboration of all the Biloxi material could 
not be completed by June 30, 1892. 

Mr. Alberl S. Gatschet assisted in augmenting and improving the data for the 
Tribal Synonymy now in preparation, by extracting material from a number of 
books and original reports especially referring to southern and southwestern In- 
dians. His main AV(n-k during the year was directed towards extracting and arrang- 
ing some of the more extensive vocabularies made by him previously in the field. 
After completing the Tonkawe of Texas, he caided each word of the Shawano and 
Creek languages obtained by him, copied the historical and legendary texts of both, 
and extracted the lexical and grammatic elements from them to serve as the ground- 
work for future grammars. The remains of the Virginia or Powhatan languages 
that are known were also made accessible by carding the terms. 

During the fiscal year Mr. J. N. B. Hewitt was a part of the time engaged in careful 
study of the grammatic forms of the Iroquoian languages, especially in the ascer- 
tainment of the number and order in which the aftixes maybe used with one and 
the same stem or base. He was also engaged in translating, extracting, and trans- 
ferring to library cards, from the "Decouvcrtes et Etablissements des Franfais dans 
I'Amerique seiitentrionale," by Pierre Margry, matter relating to the manners, cus- 
toms, beliefs, rights, ceremonies, and history of the Iroquois, which matter is now 
placed on about 20,000 cards. 

He continued his work on the Tnscarora Dictionary and directed attention to de- 
velo])ing the full number of ordinary sentences in which every generic noun may 
be employed, which affords a measure of the capacity of the vocabulary ibr the ex- 
pression of thought. 

Mr. James C. Pilling continued bis bibliographic work throughout the year, with 
special attention to the Athapascan family. Work upon this fanuly was begun 
early in the fiscal year, on October 13 the maniiscript was sent to the printer, and 
at the close of the year but a few pages of the linal proofs remained unread. The 
Bibliography of the Athapascan Languages forms a pamphlet of xiii-|-125 pages. 
While this volume was being put in type Mr. Pilling began the collection of mate- 
rial for a number of bibliographies relating to the languages of the northwest coast 
of Ameri<'a — the Chinookaii, Salishaii, and Wakashan, and satisfactory i)rogress has - 
been made. Probably one or more of them will beready to send to the printer dnr- 



iiiii- the coining autuiiiii. During the. nionlii ol" May, 1892, iVIr. l^illing ni,a<li> ai luief 
visit to iiliiaiics in lioston and (Jauihridgi^ in coiiiioct ion witlitlic conijiilat ion oCina- 
torial relating to these northwest languages. 

Mr. l)e r.anooy AV. (Jill continued in charge, of the \\orl< of iir<'i)ariiig and editing 
the illustratious for tln^ ])uhlications of the IJnreau. 

The total imniber of illustrations ]>re]>ared dnriiig the year was 'JiSO. These <lra\v- 
ings nuiy lie cdassified as follows: 

Landscapes (i 

Maps (i 

Objects :{0() 

Diagrams '.W 

^Miscellaneous (il^T 

'J'he ntnnber of illustration })roofs handled during the year was as follows: iMghth 
Annual Report, 308; Ninth Animal Report, laSt; ti78 illustrations for the T(^nt]i An- 
nual Report were transmitted to the Public Printer. 

The photographic laboratory remains iiudcr the able management of Mr. J. K. 
Hillers. A small but valuable collection of portraits of North American Indians 
was secured by him during the year from sittings; twenty-six negatives wer<^ ob- 
tained. The following table shows the size ami nnndx-r of ]diotogra])!iic jirints 
made : 




20 l)y 24 


11 by 14 


S by 10 


.-. bv K 

ST 5 

4 by .-> 

1, 1S7 


The ])nl)lications issued during the year are as follov.\s: 

(1) ".Seventh Annnal Peport of the Riireau of Ethnology to the Secretary of the 
Rmithsonian Institution, 1885-'8(), by J. W. Powell, Director." Tills report contains 
an introductory report by the Director, '27 j)ages, with accompanying pa])ers, as 
follows : 

■'Indian Linguistic Faiuilies of America, north of l\Iexico," by J. W. Powell; "The 
Midewiwin or '(h'and Mtulicine Society' of the Ojibwa," by W. J. Hoffman; "The 
sacrtMl formulas of the Cherokees," by Jamc^s Mooncy. Tin; report forms a royal 
octavo volume of lxi+109 pages, illustrated with 39 figures and 27 ])Iatcs, oin^ of 
Avhich is a folding ])late in a pocket at the end of the volume. 

(2) "Contributions to North American Ethnology, Vol. it. part ti.'" This jiart 
contains the Klamath-Euglish and English-Klamath Dictionary. l)y .\lltert Samuel 
Gatscliet, and concludes his work relating to "The Klamath Indians of Southwestern 
Oregon." The vidume is a (juarto of 711 pages. 

(:5) "Contribntions to North American Ethnology, \'ol. vi," containing the fol- 
lowing papers by James Owen Dorsey : "The (J'egiha l>anguage, i)art i, Myths, 
Stori<'s, and Letters," and "'The ^'egiha Language, part ii, .\ddition:il Myths, Stories, 
and Letters." The report forms a (iinirto volume of xviii-j-791 ])ages. 

(1) "Contributions to North Anu-rican Ethnology, \'ol. vii, ".V Dakota-English 
Dictionary, by Stephen Return Riggs, edited by .Tames Owen Dorsey." This is a 
quarto volume of x +'>fi'"> pages. 

(.5) Pulletin <d" the liiirt^au of l^thmdogy. 'I'his work consists ol' a i)aper entitled 
"Omaha and Ponka J^etters," l)y .James Owen Dor.scy, and forms an octavo volume 
of 127 pages. 


(6) Bulletin of the Bureau of Ethiiolojjy. The work is a "(!ataloyue of Prehis- 
toric Works East of the Rocky Mountaius," by Cyrus Thomas. It forms an octavo 
volume of 216 panes, with 17 maps, one of which is in a pocket at the end of the 

(7) Bulletin of the Bureau of Ethnology. The work is "Bibliography of the Al- 
gouquiau Languages," by James Coustantine Pilling. It forms an octavo volume oT 
()14 pages, with 82 plates of facsimiles of title-])ages of rare works. 

Very respectfully, 


Mr. S. P. Laxgley, 

Sccrelarii SmithHonitin InxtUiiiioii. 




ijKi'oirj' (»i^ Tin: cn.'AToi; of FxciiAMiFs vumi iii]: vhai.- fxdim; 

JUNE -M), 1S!»1>. 

Siu: I have tlic honor to pieiseiit the t'oUowiii,H" brief rcjjort of the ojxsratioiis of 
tli<- iinrciiu of Iiit.erii:itioii:il Kxch;m<i;es for the fiscal year eiidiiiu,- June ',W, IS'.IL': 


The statistics ot' work (lone by tlie 15iireau dnrini;- th(^ year ;irc succinct ly i;i\-cn 
in tile iinncxed table. |(rei(a)-e(l in a foi-ni adopted in the preceding ie])orts: 

rrdiintiitiDiiN of llie Hiircitii oj' Inlci ikiI'iouhJ ExiIkukhx (liiriiiii llic Jlnrdl ijidr IS',il-i)l. 

■i A Leiljicr nccouiits. , .', s T -r ;: 





Xovi-inber . 
I>c<'t'iiil)cr. . 

1 Sill'. 

.JiUHiary . . 
Fchriiiny . 




cS +; 



(i, r)50 12,578 

11, :!!(; '21,718 

7,271 UK'm 

i). 27.'> 2.'i. .5118 

'., OliS 14,41(1 

r,, :!:!4 24, 221 

r>, nil 1:!, 11(1 

12. (I.')8 2:1,071 

12,80.) 32,375 

7.435 18,315 

8,118 15,957 

0.002 11 052 

Total ..1 07,027 220.517 : 6.204 2,044 I 7,910 4,524 1 20,000 ) 23,130 

3,047 1,213 






































2. 323 

2, 752 


— — 



For comparison witli previous years T add a tabular statemeut from 1880 1( 
iuf'lusivi!, by wliicli the rai>id growth of the service clearly appears: 



Number of packages received 01 , 

Woiglit of packages received : 141 , 

Ledger accouuts: 

Poreign societies 

Poreign individuals 

Domestic societies 1 ■, 

Domestic individuals 15 "' 

Domestic packages sent | 10, 

Invoices written ' 15 

Cases sLipjied abroad i 

Letters received 1, 

Letters written ' 1. 



7, 896 








\ Ki, 

I !• 

' 1, 





1888-89 1889-'90 






82, 572 
202, 657 






16, 948 





90, 066 

5, 981 




29, 047 

21, 923 




97, 027 
226, 517 

7, 910 
2, 044 
20. 000 
2:!. 13G 
2, 323 
2, 752 


The expenses of the exchange bureau are met iu part by direct appropriation by 
Congress and in part by appropriations made to Government Departments or 
Bureaus, either in their contingent funds or iu specified terms for repayment to the 
Smithsonian Institution of a portion of the cost of transportation. In 1878 the 
Board of Regents established a charge of 5 cents per pound weight for the publica- 
tions sent out or received by the various Government bureaus, this charge being 
necessary to prevent an undue tax upon the resources of the Institution, as the ap- 
propriations made l)y Congress have never been sutiicient to meet the entire cost of 
the service. For similar reasons it has been found necessary to make a charge of 
the same amount to State institutions, and from these a further small sum has been 

The appropriation made by Congress for the fiscal year 1891-'92 was in the follow- 
ing terms : 

For expenses of the system of international exchanges between the United States 
.'ind foreign countries, under the direction of the Smithsonian Institution, including 
salaries or compensation of all necessary employees, seventeen thousand dollars. 

The receipts and disbursements by the accounting officer of the Smithsonian 
Institution on account of international exchanges, under date of July 1, 1892, and 
covering the fiscal year immediately preceding, were as follows : 


Direct appropriation by Congress .^17,000. 00 

Repayments to the Smithsimian Institution from I'nited States Govern- 
ment Departments 2, 108. 44 

State institutions 30. 75 

Total 19, 139. 19 


Salaries and compensations. 


I'.acking boxes 




From specific 

$14, 074. 81 
1, 792. 83 
561. 40 
145. 00 
327. 46 

17, 000. 00 

From other 




TIk^ forc^oiiiil lahli' shows tluit. the entirti iiinouiit received from (Joveriiiiieiit bu- 
reau and others was !t^2, i:^!>. IJ), making the sum practically available for the siM^cilic 
l>iii"itosc of exc!ian<>esti<l!l, I39.1i), while the expenst'shave amounted to $20,310.4}*, (he 
dehciency of $1,171.30 Ixdng made uj) from tiie, Smithsonian fund. 

The advantages iuive been pointed out in previous rejiorts of combining in a single, 
item the various appropriations for the exchange service, now divided into comitar- 
ati\'ely small sums among the several larger appropriation bills of the Government, 
l)iit tlu^ matter seems to be of sufficient importance to call attention to it again in 
liiis place. 

For the year INItl-'iH' an estimate for the entire exi)euH<! of the service of $23, ()()() 
was submitted, this sum being intended to include these smaller amounts alluded to, 
and also an item of $2,000 to cover the expense of an inunediate exchange of parlia- 
iiientary documents with the countries entering into the treaty of Brussels in 18!S6. 
The amount appropriated was $17,000, the same as that for the preceding year. 


The name of eacii person or institution sending or receiving i)ublieations through 
tiie exchange bureau was heretofore entered upon a large ledger card, showing all 
such packages received or sent. This system has proved itself of great convenience, 
but with the large increase in the number of cards the space occupied has become 
of serious moment, and it was therefore found desirable to begin a new series of 
cards, of smaller size, entering in an abbreviated form the receipts from correspond- 
ents u])()n a blue card, while the packages forwarded to these correspondents are 
entered ui)0u a white card. This system was put in operation January 1, 1892, and 
during the six months succeeding, 9,808 cards of the new form have been prepared, 
representing tht^ number of correspondents Avith whom communication has been had 
during that period. There have been added to the list of corres])ondeuts during the 
year 1,834 names. 

Additions to list of eorrespoudeuts. 

!>oii<'tii!.s ii!id institution 


inti.i;nati()nai. kxchaxgk of oI'FIcial documents 



fi, 204 

•2, 044 
4, .■>24 

14, 114 


Tender the treaty allutled to in the Secretary's rejiort for 1887- "88, the exchange of 
the official publications of the United States Government with other governments 
has been continued by the Smithsonian Institution, and it now forms a very large 
proportion of the bureau's work. 

The entire numl)erof ]»uitli(:itions sent abroad during the year under (he provision 
of the act of Congress of .March 2, 18()7, aim of the treaty aljove referred to, was 
27,87.?, and there have been received in return 1,911 packages or Noiumes. The 
United States (government Departments ha\'t! forwarded to their cnrrespondents 
abroad 20,373 packages, ami liave received in rettirn 13,000 packages. The total 
numl)er of excliauges on Gov(^rumeTlt account has been 11,941 received ami 52.783 
|>ackages sent abroad. There have, therefore, been a total of (!7.72l packages, or 
aViout 70 i»er cent of the total number handled. 



Tliis exchang(! on account of Government bureaus is shown in detail in tbe fol- 
lowing table : 

Statemimt of Government (xvhun<ies duriiKj the i/car 1S91-9J. 

Packages — 

Naiiu' of bureau. 

Received \ 

Sent by. 

American Epberaeris 

Astro-phy sieal Observat ory 

Bureau of Education 

Bureau of Etbiiology of International Ex- 

I'nreau of Medicine and 

Bureau of Navigation 

Bureau of Ordnance (Navy 
1 )epartinent) 

Bureau of Statistics 

Bureau of SteamEngineering 

Bureau of the Mint 

Census Office 

Commissioner of Patents. . . 

Comptroller of the Currency 

Department of Agriculture . 

Department of J ustice 

Department of Labor." 

Dei)artment of State 

Department of the Interior. 

Department of AVar 

General Land Office 

House of Representatives . . 

Hydrographic Office 

Index Medicus 

Library of Congress 

Light-House Board 

Marine Hospital Service 

National Academy of Sci- 

Nautical Almanac Office 






1, 809 













1 1 













1, 941 





Packages — 

Name of bureau. 



Sent by. 

Navy Department library . . 
Office of Indian Affairs . . , . . 
Office of Naval Intelligence. 
Office of tbe Chief of Engi- 






Ordnance Bureau (TVar De- 



Post-Office Department 


Public Printer 

32, 410 

Smithsonian Institution.... 

9. 975 


Surgeon - General's Office 

(U.S. Army) 


Surgeon-General(TJ.S.Navy) . 
TJ. S. Board on Geographic 



U. S. Coast Survey 


IT. S. Commissioner of 

Weight s and Measures . . . 


U. S. Entomological Com- 


U. S. Fish Comuiission 


U. S. Geograjdiical Survey.. 
U. S. Geological Survey 



3. 260 

U. S. National Museum 

1, 294 

3, 566 

TJ. S. Naval Observatory. . . . 



U. S. Patent Office 



tr. S. Senate 

TJ. S. Signal Office . . 



TJ. S. Treasury Department. 

IT. S. Weather Bureau 




14, 941 

52, 783 



Adding this to the number of miscellaneous packages the total of 97,027 packages, 
weighing 113 tons, has passed through the bureau. 


It is, perhajis, desirable to rehearse brietiyhere the method of receiving and hand- 
ling exchange packages received by the Institution. 

iScientific societies and individuals in the United States desiring to forward their 
publications abroad send them to the Smithsonian Institution, where a record is 
kojit of the number of packages received, under the sender's name, and also a record 
showing each person or institution to which a copy of the work in question is trans- 
mitted. The books are then packed, with invoices from other senders, and for- 
warded by freight to tlie Government liureau abroad which has undertaken the 
task of distributing all exchange i)ackages in that country. The books are for- 
warded direct to the paid agents of the Institution, if in Great Britain or Germany, 


liy \\li()in llic.v arc (lisirihiitc<l 1>\- mail or cxincss, ihc Institution assmiiiiig the cost 
of transportation t() the distributing agents, and in tlii' casr ol' itssjiccial a,<;t'nt (In/ 
(ost is f'nrtlicr ikdrayt'd to tlic ri!ci])ient wlu'n ].ia(ti(al)lo. ISccause of the lack ol" 
siiriicicnt funds transi)ortatioii is cliiMtcd liy slow frcii;lit. and the governmental 
hiircau of tin- United States or otlu'i- corrcsiioinients (d' tlus Institution eau not expect 
tinir jinldications to be deliver<Ml with t lie same pr(nuptness with whieli they may be 
sent by mail or by e\]ires,s. The transnussions are especially slow to foreign eountries 
with wliiili we haxc eomparati\<'ly iiifre(|neiit commnniiation. To Enghiinl and 
Germany, Avhere, as before stated, the agencies are nnder control aiwl jtay of the 
.Smithsonian Institution, and to France, cases are dispatched on the average about 
three times a month. 

S]iecial care is taken to insure the safe delixcry of the jiaekage to the pi'rson ad- 
dressed, and the easesof failure constitutes but a small percentage of the entire num- 
ber of packages handled. Souu) errors are incvital)le unless the gn/atest eare is ex- 
ercised by the .sender in securing the propei- aildicss of his correspondent.^. 

With each ])a.ekage sent out a receipt card is forwarded r(M|nesting acknowledg- 
ment tiiereon (d'the package; in (lutistion, and wiicn this receipt is placeel in the tiles 
of the exiduiiige office the record of that particular package is complete. 

Transmissions from abroad receivcnl Iiy freight in large cases arc; distrilmted in t he 
United States by registered mail, a record tirst having been made of the name of the 
sender and of the recipient of each package. A recei[it card, returnable l)y mail 
■without postage, is sent with each of these packages, and should be returned at 
once by the recipient in at'kuowledgiuent of the i)a.ckage, otherwise i'urther trans- 
missions to that address can not 6e niad(?. It should l)e borne in mind that as no 
rec<nd is madi; of the title of the book eontaiin-d in each package, it is not always 
possible to trace a given work unless the date of its dispat(di to the exchange ol'lico 
is known. 

I give this account of tiie W(uking of the Exchange Service, as f am led to believe 
from a iiumhei' of inquiriis with refereiu'c, to this Bureau that it is not thoroughly 
uneh'rstood by all who ha\e occasion to make use of it. 

I am gratified to st.ite that, the re(;onnueudatiou for additional assistance con- 
tained in }»re\"i()us rei)orts having been approved, it has been ixtssible to bring the 
records ami tiles into ainueh more satisfa.ctory stati' than heretofore, as, owing to 
the insufficient c lerical force, the wm-k has been for several years ]) somewhat in 
arrears. By theailojition of ncsw and abbr(sviat(>d forms for records tluich^rical work 
has been materially decreased without tiie sacritice* of accuracy, though in s])ite of 
this reduction in the work aiul the iucrt^ase of tin; force it is only now possible to kee]) 
the work of the Unreau well u]) to date. This, I think, will readily be understood 
if it is reuuMulxu'ed that since JSSt! the number of |>ackages accounted lor has lieeu 
nearly donltled. 

Six thousand four hundred and sixty-one more packages wen; handhul in 1891-92 
than in tlie previous year, and on .June 30. 1892, tliere were but 102 ]>ackages on 
hand to be disposed of. 

The increased number of Hhijuuents to the ])rincipal foreign countries has been 
inaiutaiued, as shown in the tables appended as Exhihit A. A further improvement 
in this direction can l)e looked for only wh(ui the appropriations made by Congress 
beconu' suHieieid to enable the Institution to i»ay for fast freight. As it is now, 
fn^e freight is granted by a majority of the ocean steamship com])aiiies to the Smith- 
sonian Institution in its endeavor to increase and difFuse knowledge among men, 
while full rates would bi; charged to the United States Government for a similar 
service; and where! the privilege ol" fre^e freight has not b(>.en secured the exchange 
boxes art; sent by slow steamers or by sailing vessels of["ering low rates. 

I take pleasure in bearing witness to tin; conscientious eflicieiicy of Hh; employes 
of the Exchange Dllii-e, and I beg leave to <'X[>ress my ai»preciatioii of the c.ireful 


attention to the interests of the Bureau on the part of its special agents abroad, 
Doctor Felix Fliigel, in Leipzig, and Messrs. William Wesley &, Son, in Loudon. 

(xrateful acknowledgiuiMits are also due to the followiu^- transportation couipanies 
and firms for their continued liberality in granting free freight, or in otherwise 
assisting in the transmission of exchange parcels and boxes, whih^ to other firms 
thanks are due for reduced rates of transportation in consideration of the disinter- 
ested services of the Institution in the diffusion of knowledge. 


Allen Steamsliip Company (A. Schumacher & Co., agents), Baltimore. 

d'Almeirim, Baron, Royal Portuguese consul-general, New York. 

American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, Boston. 

American Colonization Society, Washington, District of Columbia. 

Anchor Steamship Line (Henderson &, Bro., agents), New York. 

Atlas Steamship Company (Pim, Forwood &. Co.), New York. 

Bailey, H. B., & Co., New York. 

Bors, C, consul-general for Sweden and Norway, New York. 

Botassi, D. W., consul-general for Greece, New York. 

Boulton, Bliss and Dallett, New York. 

Calderon, Climaco, consul-general i'or Colombia, New York. 

Caldo, A. G., consul-general for Argentine Republic, New York. 

Cameron, R. W. & Co., New York. 

Baltazzi, X., consul-general for Turkey, New York. 

Compagnie Gen^rale Transatlantique (A. Forget, agent), New York. 

Cunard Royal Mail Steamship Company (Vernon H. Brown & Co., agents), New 

Espriella, Justo R. de la, consul-general for Chile, New York. 
Florio Rnbattino Line — Navigazione Generale Italiana (Phelps Bros. &. Co.), New 

Hamburg American Packet Company (R. J. Cortis, manager), New Yorlv. 
Heus(d, Bruckmaun & Lorbaclier, New York. 

lumau Steamship Company (Henderson & Bro., agents). New York. 
Mantez, Jose, consul-general for Uruguay, New York. 
Muuoz y Espriella, New York. 

Navarro, J. N., consul-general for Mexico, New York. 
Netherlands American Steam Navigation Company (W. II. Vaiideu Toorii, agent), 

New York. 
New York and Brazil Mail Steamship Company, New York. 
New York and Mexico Steamship Company, New York. 
North German Lloyd (agents : Oelrichs & Co., New York; A. Schumacher &. Co., 

Obarrio, Melchor, consul-general for Bolivia, New York. 

Pacific Mail Steamship Company (II. J. Bullay, 8U]ierintendeut), New York. 
Panama Railr<iad Company, New York. 
Pioneer Line (R. W. Cameron & Co.), New York. 
Perry, Ed., &. Co., New York. 

Pomares, Mariano, consul-general foi- Salvjidor, New York. 
Red Star Line (Peter Wright iV Sous, agents), New York aud Philadelphia. 
Royal Danish consul. New York. 
Ruiz, Domingo L., consul-general for Ecuador. 
Stewart, Alexander, consul-general for Paraguay. Washiu'^ton, District ot C(dum- 

Toriello, Enrique, oonsnl-general i'or Guatemala, New Yorlc. 
WMte Cross Line of Antwerp (Fundi, Edyc ct Co.), New York. 



Alj^cria: Bureau Friiu<.'.ais des Ecliauges Inteniatiouinix, Paris, Francis 

Argentine Republir: MuscoNacioual, I^neuos Aires. 

Austria-Huugarv : Dr. Felix I'liigel, No. 1. Robert Scliuiaaim Stiasse, lieipzig, Gi^r- 

lirazil: Bihliotlioea Naoioual, IJio Janeiro. 

Belgium: Connuis.siou des Eelianges Inteniationa.ux, Ruedu Musee, No. .^), Ik'usstils. 
Bolivia: University, Cliuquisaea. 

Britisli Ameriea: McGill College, Montreal, or (Geological Survey Oitiee, Ottawa. 
British Colonies: Crown Agents for the Colonies, London, England. 
British Guiana: The Observatory, Georgetown. 
Cape Colony: Colonial Secretary, Ca])e Town. 
China: Dr. B. W. Doberck, Government Astronomer, Hong-Kong; for Shanghai: 

Zi-ka-Avei Observatory, Shanghai. 
Chili: Museo Nacional, Santiago. 
Colombia (U. S. of): National Library, Bogota. 
Costa Rica: Instituto Fisico-geognitico Nacional, San Jose. 
Cuba: Dr. Frederico Poey, Calle del Rayo, 19, Habana, Cuba. 
D<3ninark: Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab, Copenhagen. 
Dutch Guiana: Surinaamsche Kolouiaale Bibliotheek, Paramaribo. 
East India: Director-General of Stores, India OtHce, London. 
Ecuador: Observatorio del Colegio Nacional, (j>uito. 
Egypt: Institut Egyptieu, Cairo. 

France: Bureau Franyais des Echanges Internationaux, Paris. 
Germany: Dr. Felix Fliigel, No. 1, Robert Schumann Strasse, Leipzig. 
Great Britain and Ireland: William Wesley & Sou, 28, Essex street, Strand, London. 
Greece : National Library, Athens. 

Guatemala: Instituto Nacional de Guatemala, (JuatAMuala. 
Guadeloupe (Same as France.) 

Haiti: Secretaire d'jGtat des Relations Exterieures, Port au Prince. 
Honduras: Bibliotheca Nacional, Tegucigalpa. 
Iceland: leelands Stiptisbokasitfn, Reykjavik. 
Italy: l.iblioteca Nazionale Vittorio Emanuele, K'ouie. 
.Japan: .Minister of Foreign Affairs, Tokio. 
.Java: (Saum as Holland.) 
Liberia: Liberia College, Monrovia. 

Madeira: I)irector-(jreueral, .\rmy M<'(liial l)ei)artment, London, England. 
Malta: (Same as Madeira.) 

Mauritius: Royal Society of Arts and Sciences, Port Louis. 
Mozambique: Sociedad de Geografia, Mozambique. 
Mexico: Packages sent by mail. 

NcAV Cahulouia : Gordon &. Gotch, London, England. 
Newfoundland: Postmaster General, St. Johns. 

New South Wales: (ioverument Board for International Ex(;hanges, Sydney. 
Netherlands: Bureau Scientili(|ue Central Ncerlandais, Den Helder. 
New Zealand: Colonial Museum, Wcdliugton. 
Nicaragua: care Captain J. M.Dow, Panama. 
Norway: Kongelige Norsko Frederiks lJuiv(;rsitet, Cluistiaiiia. 
Paraguay: Government, Asuncion. 
Peru : Bililioteca Nacional, Lima. 

Philippine Islands: Royal I']conomi(;al Society, Manila. 
Polynesia: Department of Foreign Affairs, Honolulu, 
Portugal: Bibliotheca Nacional, Lisbon. 

U. Mis. 114 5 



Queensland: Goveriiiueut Meteorological Observatory, Brisbane. 

Koumania: (Same as Germany). 

Russia: Commission Russe dcs Efhauges Internatioiiaiix, Biblioth<'(jno Imiir^riale 

PuLlique, St. Petersburg. 
St. Helena: Director General, Army Medical Department, Loudon, Eugland. 
San Salvador: Museo Nacioual, San Salvador. 
Servia: (Same as Germany.) 
South Australia: General Post-Office, Adelaide. 
Spain: R. Acadcmia de Ciencias, Madrid. 

Sweden: Kongliga Sveuslca Vetenskaps Akademien, Stockholm. 
Switzerland: Central Library, Bern. 
Tasmania: Royal Society of Tasmania, Hobarton. 

Turkey: American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, Boston. 
Uruguay: Oficina de Deposito, Reparto y Canje luternacional, Montevideo. 
Venezuela; UniTersity Library, Caracas. 
Victoria: Publio Library, Museum, and National Gallery, Melbourne. 

Appendix A. 

Tr(tnsmift>ilon of crclidiu/en to foreUjti voiiii fries. 


Ai-gentine Republic 
Austria-Huuijary . . . 

Belarium . 



British Colonies 

Capo Colony 




Costa Kica 



Diitcli Guiana 

East India 



France and Colonies . 


Great Britain, oto 

Date of transmission, etc. 

October 13, November 10, December 16, 1891 ; January 19, April G, June 

11, 1892. 
July 14, 25, August 19, September 3, October 3, 14, 27, November 6, 19, 23, 

December 8, 17, 23, 1891 ; January 13, 25, February 5. 10, 17, March 1, 4, 

11, 12, 25, 29, April 11, 19, 30, May 3, 23, 28, June 20, 30, 1892. 
October 20, November 12, 23, 1891 ; January 15, February 1, 19, March 21, 

April 2, May 12, June G, 30, 1892. 
December 16, 1891. 

October 13, November 10, 1891 ; January 19, April IG, June 14, 30, 1892. 
October 29, 1891, January 20, June 17, 30, 1892. 
August 1, November 16. 1891 ; January 26, June 16, 1892. 
January 18, April 4, June 10, 1892. 

October 13, 1891 ; February 11, April 6, June 14, 30, 1S82. 
October 13, 1891 ; January 19, April 6, June 14, 1892. 
November 13, 1891 ; January 23, June 18, 1892. 
November 12, 1881 ; January 23, June 18, 1892. 
August 15, November 4, December 11, 1801; January 22, February 3, 

March 23, April 2, June 6, 1892. 

October 31, December 4, 1891 ; January 16, Ajiril 5, June 11, 1892. 

January 19, April 6, 1892. 

June 16, 1892. 

July 17, August 1, 18, September 5, October 7, 13, 23, November 9, 16, 20, 
December 10, 19, 23, 28, 1891; January 15, 28, February 10, 29, March 5, 
12, 17, 28, April 2, 19, 30, May 6, 27, June 16, 21, 29, 1892. 

July 14, 25, 19, Septembers, October 3, 14,27; November 6, 19, 
23, December 8, 17, 23, 1891 ; January 13, 25, February 5, 10, 17, March 
1, 4, 11, 12, 25, 29, April 11, 19, 30, May 3, 23, 28, June 20, 28, 1892. 

July 23, August 1, 19, 31, September 19, October 9, 24, 29, November 6, 
10, 21, December 4, 14, 26, 1891; January 15, 26, February 4, 15, 24 
March 3, 10, 14, 19. 26, 29, April 12, 19, 30, May 4, 17, 26, 31, June 20, 29, 


Trtnisniis>^ii)ii of cjv/i ((«//(•*• 1o Jorcifjii cuioiiries — Continued. 









Ntnv Soutli Wales 

Jsetlierlands aud Colonies 

New Zealand 









San Uouiingo 

San Salva<lor 


Sout h Australia 



Swil zeT'land 






West Africa 

Date of transmission, etc. 

January 23. February 3, 1892. 

Xovember 13, 1891; June 18, 1892. 

November 12, 1891 ; Juni; 18, 1892. 

November 13, 1891; Manli 4, 1892. 

July 31, August 20, October 13, IC, November 4, 20, DeeeniberS, 28, 1891 ; 

January 20, February 1, 19, Marcli 14, 17, April 1, 26, May 10, Juiu; 

2, 30, 1892. 
Augu.st3, November 4, 24, 1891; .lauuary 18, Febiiuiry 1, April 4, J line 

10, 30, 1892. 
November 10, 1.S91 : June — , 1892. 
(By registered mail ) 

October 31, December 4, 1891 ; January 16, April .'>, Jum^ 11, 1892. 
October 22, November 24, December 28, 1891; January 22, March 22, 

April 11, May 3, June 3. 30, 1892. 
October 31, December 4, 1891 ; January 10, April 5, June 11, 1892. 
November 13, 1891 ; June 18, 1892. 

August 15, October 23, December 14, 28, 1891; A])ril 9, Juue 9, 30, 1892. 
October 13, 1891; January 19, A}m\ 6, June 14, 1892. 
October 31, 1891; January 10, April 5, June 11, 1892. 
October 23, December 12, 28, 1891; February 3, April 11, June 9, 1892. 
October 31, December 4, 1891 ; January 10, February 1, April 5, June 11, 

30, 1892. 
(Incliuled in (rcrmany.) 
July 28, October 14, 20, November 11, 24, December 28, 1891 ; January 21, 

29, February 20, March 14, 15, April 7, 26, May 0, Juue 4, 30. 18D2. 
October 10, 1891. 
November 13, 1891. 
(Included in Germany.) 

October 31, December 4, 1891 ; January 16, April 5, June 11, 1892. 
Octr)ber 22, November 23, December 28, 1891; Jauu.iry 21, February 3, 

April 9, Juue 4, 1892. 
July 28, October 20, November 11, 24, December 28, 1891; January 21, 

29, March 16, April 7, May 6, June 4, 30, 1892. 
October 22, November 16, December 11, 28, 1891 ; January 21, February 

1, 23, March 21, April 8, June 6, 30, 1892. 
January 10, April—. 1892. 

November 19, 1891 ; January 23, Juno 17, 1892. 
October 13, December 10, 1891 ; June 14, 1892. 
October 13, 1891: January 19, April 0, Juno 14, 1892. 
October 31, December 4, 1891 ; January 16, February 1, April 5, June 1 1 , 

October 10, 1891. 

Shipments to India, New South Wales, Victoria, New Zcahmd, Tasmania, aud 
Crown agents were made in bundles inclosed in case number 838, June '30, 1892. 



Shipments of United States Congressional publications were made on Anunst 
26, November 24, 1891; February 29, May 17, 1«92, to the Governments of the follow- 
ing named countries: 

Colombia, Japan, Saxony, 

Denmark, Netherlands, South Australia, 

France, New South Wales, Spain, 

Germany, New Zealand, Sweden, 

England, Norway, Switzerland, 

Greece, t Peru, Tasmania, 

Haiti, Portugal, Turkey, 

Hungary, Prussia, Venezuela, 

India, Queensland, Victoria, 

Italy, Russia, Wiirtemberg, 
The distribution to foreign countries was made in 846 cases, representing 283 trans- 
missions, as follows : 

Argentine Republic, 





Buenos Aires, 


Canada (Ottawa), 

Canada (Toronto), 


Argentine Republic 15 

Austria-Hungary 53 

Belgium 25 

Bolivia 1 

Brazil 11 I 

British Colonies 5 

Cape Colony 4 

China 3 

Chile 7 

Colombia 4 

Costa Rica 3 

Cuba 3 

Denmark 12 

East India 9 

Ecuador 2 

Egypt : 2 

France and Colonies 109 

Germany 139 

Great Britain 149 

Greece 2 

Guatemala 2 

Haiti 2 

Honduras 4 

Italy 56 

Japan ^ 16 

Liberia 2 

Mexico (by mail). 

New South Wales 10 

Netherlands 20 

New Zealand 6 

Nicaragua 2 

Norway 15 

Peru 4 

Polynesia 4 

Portugal 6 

Queensland 11 

Roumauia (included in Germany). 

Russia 37 

San Domingo 1 

San Salvador 1 

Servia (included in Germany.) 

South Australia 5 

Spain - 14 

Sweden 22 

Switzerland 26 

Tasmania 2 

Turkey 3 

Uruguay 2 

Venezuela 4 

Victoria ". - 9 

West Africa 1 


Total Government shipments 169 

Total miscellaneous shipments 846 

Total shipments 1> 015 

Total shipments last year 962 

Increase over last year 


Very respectfully, yours. 

Mr. S. P. Langi.ey, 

Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. 


Curator of Exchanges. 

*No shipment made to Gi'cece on May 17, 1892. 

tTwo special Government cases were sent to Chili on February 11, 1892. 





Sir: I li;ive the honor to submit the foHowiiii;' report of the ojx'ratioiis of the 
National Zoological Park for the rtscal year ending .June 30, 1892: 

At the close of the last year the jiark had but Just been occupied ))y Ihe animals 
of the collection.. The expei'ience of tiie present season has been valuable as indi- 
cating the lines along which development should proceerl. 

The main road having been laid out, the permanent locations for the aninaals 
were established at convenient distances near it. The bridge across the creek was 
contracted to be built, and a temporary bridge established until such time as the 
permanent structure should be completed. The work of com]ileting the bear yards 
was also continued. 

On September ,5, a disastrous rain storm occurred, during which Rock Creek, the 
small stream that flows through the park rose to a height nearly equalling that which 
it reached at the time of the famous Johnstown flood in 1890. The rise was extra- 
ordinarily rapid, being, according to the watchmen of the park, at the rate of 6 feet 
within two hours. Within a short time a cavity 10 feet deep was excavated by the 
stream alongside of one of the bridge piers, undermining one of its corners, the 
temporary bridge was swept away, a large quantity of earth and rock was precipi- 
tated from the cliff above into the bear pits, the banks of the creek were eroded and 
a considerable amount of tilling waslu'd away, and the roads and gutters of the 
])ark recently laid were cut out and injured to a very great extent. The cost of 
repairing the damages thus occasioned was nearly $.5,000, a sum that could not well 
be spared from the scanty appropriation, and the loss embairassed the park very 
seriously during the entire season. 

The bridge pier damaged by the storm Avas rebuilt iind this delayed the linal com- 
pletion of the bridge, which was not finally opened for travid until about October 1. 

For the same reason the occu])ation of the bear yards was ])ostponed until a retain- 
ing wall much larger and stronger than had been anticipated could be built, it be- 
ing considered dangerous to place the animals in yards wliere sonu! tons of rock and 
earth might fall alter any serious storm. 

The main animal house, although far from complete, Wiis hastily jjrepared for the 
reception of animals by closing it up with temporary work and substituting ff)r the 
metal roof designed by the archite(;t a ielt roof of cheaj) construction. The com])le- 
tion of the tower at the eastern end was deferred until irinr<> funds should be avail- 

As soon as the cooler autumn weather set in the numl)er of visitors to the ])ark 
greatly increased. There was during each Sunday of October and until nearly the 
last of November an average attendance of about 7,000 ])eople each Sunday, the 
number reaching over 10,000 on some particularly line days. The dnily .-ittendance 
• luring the week was considerably less. 

This largo influx of visitors tested the arrangements whi(di had been made, and 
they were found wanting in several respects. The bridge was found to be too nar- 
row and dangerous for foot passengers. The road was in some localities so narrow 
that it Ixicame inconveniently and dangerously crowded. The number of watchmen 
was found to be entirely inade,(iuate, and the crowd was so great in tin; principal 
animal house as to be extremely uncomfortable. 


To remedy tliis state of affairs it seemed necessary to place footways upon the 
bridge, to relieve the main roadway hy making side roads and walks, to enlarge the 
ground plan of the animal house, and to provide more ample means of exit. It 
seemed hest also to remove from the house as many animals as could be properly ac- 
commodated in quarters outside, both for the convenience of the public and the health 
of the animals. 

The limited means at the disposal of the j^ark did not permit the full completion 
of this plan. New roadways were cut out and new sidewalks built, an addition to 
the animal house was commenced in the shape of a large wooden shed situated on 
the north side. None of these were entirely completed at the close of the liscal year. 

A grading plan for a portion of the park was furnished by Mr. F. L. Olmsted. 
This contemplated the excavation of a large jiond for aquatic animals upon the 
meadow west of the bridge, the shaping up of the banks of the creek and their pro- 
tection from erosion by means of riprap and the formation of a smaller pond to the 
north of the road near the main entrance. But little of this could be done during 
the year, the expenses of preparing the winter quarters of the animals being such 
that all surplus funds were exhausted. It was indeed found necessary to limit the 
expenditures to the barest necessities, and although an additional apiiroi)riation of 
$1,000 was made by Congress it was with difficulty that the park was maintained 
until the end of the year. The force of employes was reduced to the lowest possi- 
ble number, and every device was used to insure the strictest and most parsimonious 

The scantiness of the resources of the park made it necessary to j)08tpone any pur- 
chases of animals, and the collection has therefiu'e increased but slowly. There were 
on .Tune 30, 448 living animals in the collection, of which .S20 were mammals, 63 birds, 
and 65 reptiles. A catalogue of the additions made is appended hereto. Ninety-six 
animals have been presented to the park during the year, of which 43 were mam- 
mals, 26 birds, and 27 reptiles. 

The insufficient nature of the temporary quarters in which it has been necessary to 
keep the animals has led to a considerable mortality. Besides this, it is found that 
many specimens do not survive the fiitigue and excitement of the journey necessary to 
reach the park, and they succumb shortly after their arrival here. The most alarm- 
ing mortality has been that of the ])ears, two of which died from injviries received, two 
others from pulmonary trouble. While the bear yards are certainly ]nctures(jue and 
elfective from the landscape architect's point of view, it is believed that they are not 
now proper sanitary dwellings for the animals, as they are constantly damp, are too 
cold in winter and too hot in summer. It is intended to take measures to remedy 
their defects. 

Owing to the small number of watchmen necessarily employed, one of the bears 
escaped by climbing up a nearly perpendicular wall over .50 feet high. He was pur- 
sued and an attempt was made to capture him. This was, however, unsuccessful and 
it was found necessary, finally, to shoot him. 

The elephants have continued constantly to gain in weight since arriving at the 
pai'k. "Dunk" now weighs 7,260 ])ounds, having gained 1,110 pounds. " ( lohhiust" 
weighs 4,920 pounds, having gained 860 pounds. 



l/tst ol' (III nil tils jinmtiUd. 

Capiuliin iiiniikfy . . 

'I'l^i'tce - 



IvP(l lox 



Swil't fox 





Black bear 


Ciniiauion bear ...:.. 

Grizzly bcjir 



Virginia deer 


Soutli American ileer 
American Ix-aver . . . . 

Airs, nendrickson. Alcxandri:i, \:\. (loaned) 

Knsign Uoger Welles, jr., V . S. Xavy 

Capt. G. C. Doane, San Carlos, Ariz 

R. M. Lee, Bucklaud, A"a 

George Pox, Kcw Lisbim, Ohio 







Golden eagle 

Hald eagle 

SjiaiTow Lawk.. . 

I'igeon ]ia\v% bawk 




Kco-tailed hawk . 


uarred owl 


H. Petersen, Wasb'iugton, D. C 

C. O. Cbenaiilt, Jersey City, N. J 

I'rof. H. A. AV ard, llocbester, X. Y 

Miss Margaret Kiowit, Nokesville, Va 

Miss Bessie Elliot, "Wasbingtou, D. (; 

J. n. Thomas, Whittier, IST. C 

C. S. Hayes, Anacostia, D. C 

Lieut. G. V. Aliern, Fort Mi.ssoula, Mont 

Capt. G. S. Anderson, Mammotb Hot Spring 

Hon. E. M. IJartleinan, Caracas, Venezuela 

Hon. J. H. Starin, New York City 

Thaddeus Surber, White Sulpbur Springs, Va 

D. Tf . Maxfield, Bangor. Me 

Hon. E. M. Bartleniau, Caracas, Venezuela 

U. S. Agricultural Experiment Station, Nebraska, through I'nil'. 

C. V. Riley, Washington. D. C 

Ensign Roger Welles, Jr., H. S. Navy 

Hon. R. M. Bartleiuiii. ( 'aracas, Venezuela 

Mr. Greaves. Port of Spain, Trinidad 

En.sign Roger Welles, Jr., TJ. S. Navy 

W. H. Volandt, Washington, D. C 

Ralph Saers, Mount Pleasant, D. C 

Miss Editb A. Barnes, Seabrook, Maryland 

.r. A. Hubert, Washington, D. C 

C. C. Zabn, Washington, D. C 

Wm. Taylor, San 1 )ieg.i, Texas 

A. C. Downs, Realitos, Texas 

Prof. R. T. 1 1 ill, U. S. Geological Survey 

Hon. R. M. Bartlemcn, Caracas, \'eneznela 

W. II. Babco(-k, Wasli ington, I). C 

S. D. Caldwell, Bethosda, Md 

J. W. Howlott, Washington, D. C 

President llarri.son, AVash ington. D. C 

(Japt. n, S. Barbour, Washington, D. C 

C. O. Clienault, Jersey City, N. J 

(J. Boegeholz, Wasliington, D. C 

E. C. Call, Laurel, Md 

E. B. Clark, Washington, D. C 

G. B. Coleman, Washington, D. C 

G. W. Simpson, Washington, D. C 

H. W. McCJtsorge, Washington, D. C 

J. L. Davison, Lockport, N. Y .- 

Dr. T. E. Butler, Glen Allan, Miss 

E. Johnson, Washington. D. C 

W. L. Bisho)), Washington, D, C ; . . . 





Arizona gray ,squirrcl 

Flying squirrel 

Prairie dog 


Wliit(^ rat 






List of animaU presented — Coutiuued. 


Great liornecl owl 


Screecl] owl 


Common crow 

American magpie 

Golden-winged woodpecker 

Blue and yellow macaw 

Green parrot ■ 



"White ibis 

Black-crowned night heron . 

Sandhill crane 








Soft-shelled turtle 

Snapping turtle 



Chuck molly lizard 

Horned toad 


Diamond rattlesnake 

Tiger rattlesn.ike 

Ground rattlesnake 

Water moccasin 


King snake 



Black snake 



Whip snake 

Hog-nosed snake 


ber of 

Employes of H. E. Burgess, Washington, D. C 

P. T. Bell, Conowingo Md 

Mrs. Babcock, Washington, D. C 

J. J. Mahoney, Washington, D. C 

Mrs. Wheeler, Washington, D. C 

E. S. Sehmid, Washington. D. C. (loan(>d) 

Cortez Daniel, Leesburg, Va 

D. M. Cranford, Washington, D. C. (loaned) , 

Mrs. Williams, Washington, D. C. (loaned) 

Hon. C. I. Croft, Cartagena, Colombia, South America . 

W. C. Butler, Washington, D. C 

A. M. Nicholson, Orlando, Fla 

E. Lyons, Washington, D. C 

Mrs. M. C. EerdeU, Orlando, Elrt 

W. E. Wilson, Orange Point, Fla 

Latta Griswold, Washington, D. C 

.Sterrett Bros., Wa.shington, D. C 

Sir Julian Pauncefote, Washington, D. C 

TJ. S. Eish Commission (loaned) 

S. C. Williams, Washington, D. C 

Ensign Roger Welles, jr., U. S. N 

K. T. Leipold and A. M. Rock, Brookside, W. Va. 

C. O. Chenault, Jersey City, N. J 

Dr. M. M. Crocker, Fort Mojave, Ariz 

A. T. Gage, Washington, D. C 

Dr. R. E. C. Stearns, San Diego, Cal 

Dr. M. M. Crocker, Fort Mqjavo, Ariz 

Chipt. Henry Romeyn, Mount Vernon Barriicks, Ahi. 


L. H. Brilton, , Ohio 

Dr. Z. T. Daniels, Cheyenne Agency, Dakota 

Capt. Henry Romeyn, Mount Vernon Barracks, Ala. 

do - 

L. P. Weeden, Wa.shington, D. C 

J. P. Stabler 

Capt. Henry Romeyn, Mount Vernon Barracks. Ala. 


Ensign Roger AVelle.i, jr., U. S. N . .■ 



JAst of access (OHs. 

Diniia moukey {CercopitJteciis- diana) 

]!iirrin;n<lo (Lagothrix huniboldUi) 

Capucliiii nioukcy {Cebus cajnicinun.) 

Sapa. jous]( Cebus hypoleuciis) 

Diiriikuli {Xyctijnthcms trivirgatuis) 

T(et('c (Chnixothrix nciureui) 

^laniiosct ( llapalc jacelntis) 

\Aon ( h'clis len) 

Ocelot (Felix pardalh) 

American "Wildcat (Li/nx riifiis) 

Coyot (' ( Can is lafrans) 

Kcd fox ( Vuipesftdvus) 

Arctic fox ( yid2)es la<jop\is) 

Gray fox ( Yulpes virginianus) 

Swift fox (Vidpes velox) 

Auierican hM\<!:er (Taxidea amemana) .. 

Coii'inon skunk {Mephitis mej'hitica) 

American otter (Lutra canademis) 

Grizzly bear ( JJisns hurribilis) 

1 '.lack Ijcar ( TJrsus cnnericanus) 

Cinnamon " bear ( Vrsus americanus) . . . 

Polar bear (Thalassaietos ninrititjius) 

liaccoon (I'rocyon lotor) 

Coatiinnmli {Xasua ru/a) 

Coati-mundi {Xasua naiica) 

Kinka.jou (Cereoleptes c<t>idirolpidiis) 

Zebu (lios iiidiexis) 

American bison {Ili.inn ainericanus) 

American anfclope {AntUocnpra anieri- 


Angora goat (f'apra hi reus aiigoreiisix) . . 

Virginia deer {Cariaciis virginianus) 

.South American deer (Coassiis s]).) 

Moose {Aires inachlis) 

< 'ollared peeeary ( Uicotylrs laja.i^v) 

Flying sqniircl (Scinrupterus vvlucella) . . 

A rlzona gray squirrel 

Striped gopher {S/iermophilus trideciin- 


Tiairie dog {Cynomys liid(iviciatiits) 

\V<)od(;linck (Aretoinys inonax) 

AnK^ican beaver {Castor canadensis) .... 

Mnskrat {Fiber zibethicus) 

White j-at {21 us rattus) 

< 'oy i>ii {Myopotamus coyjyri) 

While rabbit {Lepus euniculus) 

Tree porcu])ine {Hyntheres 2)rehensiUs) . ■ . 

Capybara {IFydrochceriis capybara) 

Taca {Cailugenys iiaea) 

A goiiti {Dusyprocta aguti) 

Aconchy {Dasyprocta ttcavchy) 

Guinea pig ( Cavia aperea) 

Great anteater {Myrmecophaga jubata) . 






;! I 

4 i. 

Respectfully submitted, 
Secretary S. P. Langley, Smilh 

Peba armadillo (Tntnsia novemcinefa) ...I 4 

( )possnm ( IHdclphys virginiana) I 5 

Paid eagle ( Ilaliaietus le.ucocephalus) : 1 

( iiildfii eagle {A'jidla chrgsmtos) j 1 

Sparrow Iiawk (Falco sparveriui) 2 

I'igcon hawk (Falco colinnbarius) 1 

l.'ed-tailed hawk ( Bufi o borcalis) ; 2 

Marsh hawk {Circus liiidsouius) ' 4 

(ire at horned owl {Bubu virginianus) .... 2 

Parred owl (Syrniuin nchxdosuni) ; 2 

Screech owl {2legascops asio) 

American magpie {Pica pica hvdsonica) . 8 

American crow (Cornts ameriraniis) 1 

Golden-winged woodpecker (Cnlaples 

anratui) '• 1 

Yellow and blue niareaw {Ara araraii- \ 

nea) 1 

(ireen parrot 9 

Parrakeet 1 

Crested ciirassow {Crax alector) 4 

Sandhill crane (Grus mexicana) 2 

Blaek-crowned night heron ( Xycticorax 

nycticorax iicevius) 1 

Scarlet ibis (Ouara rubra) 3 

"White ibis (Guara alba) 2 

Gannet {Sula bastana) 1 

Alligator ( .1 lligator inississipjnensis) .... 8 

Gainian (.Taca re sclerops) 1 

Soft-shelled turtle (Aspidonecfesfcrox) . . 1 

Snap))lng-tnrtl(! CC/tc/j/cira serpentina) .. 2 

Painted turtle ( Chrysemys j'ieta) It 

Ghnek-niolly (Sauromalus ater) 7 

-Marbled ))olvchrns ( I'ohiehriis iiiarniiir-\ 

at IIS) ■ .' 2 

ilorned t,(iad ( I'hryiiosnnia doiiglassii) ... f) 

.Sonlli American lizards (uu. named) 2li 

r.anded rattU^snakc ('<''(•(y/a/(^s•/(()i•/•l(/(f.s•; . 1 

Diamonil i-attlesnake (('rotalas adman- 

tens) ;! 

Ground rattlesnake (CaudisonamHiaris) 3 

Water moccasin (Ancistrodon piseivo- 

rus) 1 

Copperliead (Ancistrodon contortrix) . . . J 2 

King snake ( Ophibohis getidus) , 1 

Iliug-nceked Hnn]in( DiadophispuHcfatus) 1 

Plack snake (Bascaniurn constrictor). ... 5 

('oach-whiii snake ( Hascanium. flagelU-^ 

forme) ! 2 

Connnon boa (P>oa constrictor) 3 

A naeonda (Eunectes murinus) 1 

Garter snake (Eutamia sirtalis) 1 

Hog iiosesnake (Tleteodonplalyrhinus) . ) 1 

.Small South American snakes (unnamed) ! 19 

South American l)atra(hians (unnamed) .: IG 

FiiAN'K Bakki;, ActltHj Manayer. 
Honian Inslitntion. 



Appendix IV. 

Sir: I have the honor to submit herewith the report on the library of the Smith - 
soiiian lustitiition duriug the year ending June 30, 1892. 

The operations of the library have been conducted as in the two preceding years. 
The entry numbers in the accession book extend from 225,586 to 246,109. 

Following is a statement of the volumes, parts of volumes, pamphlets, and charts 
received during the year : 

Puhlications received hetween July 1, 1S91, and June -W, 1S92. 


Parts of volumes. 



Octavo or 

3, 087 

Quarto or 


16, 098 



23, 729 

3, .589 


Total . 

29, 928 

Of these publications, 297 volumes, 6,363 i>arts of volumes, and 774 pamphlets — 
7,434 in all — were retained for use in the National Museum. 

Eight hundred and fifty-seven medical dissertations were deposited in the library 
of the Surgeon-General, U.S. Army; the remaining publications were sent to the 
Library of Congress on the Monday after their receipt. 

In carrying out the plans formulated by the Secretary for increasing the library ))y 
exchanges, 803 letters asking for publications not on our list, or asking for numl)ers 
to complete the series already in the library, have been written. As a result of this 
correspondence it gives me pleasure to report that 444 new exchanges were acquired 
by the Institution, while 220 defective series were c(>mi»letod either wholly or as far 
as the publishers were able to supply missing parts. 

Below is a comparative statement of the operations ol" the library since .Tune 30, 

Numher of puhlieaUons received. 





13, 458 

4, 330 


2, 681 

20, 525 

:{, 769 



23, 729 



Total . . . 

20, 187 

27, 294 

29, 928 



Tlie followinsi' universities li;iv«! sent <-ouiplet.e lists i)fal] their af;nl(unic ]ml)lic:i- 
tioiis : 






Freiber<>', Br., 



Halle a 8.. 
















The following pul)iications have been added to the list of regnlar serials: 

A A Notes (Arehit's' Assoe.), Loudon. 

Acts of the I'arliament of South Austra- 
lia, Adelaide. 

Actes Society Simico-Japonaise, Paris. 

Agricultural Science, State College, Pa. 

Amateur Sportsman, New York. 

American Amateur Photographer, New 

American Anthropologist. AVashington, 
1). C. 

American Cyclist, Hartford, Conn. 

American Florist, Chicago. 

American (hardening, New York. 

American Jeweler, Chicago. 

American Journal of Philately, New 

American Naturalist, I'hiladelphia. 

American Notes and (,,>ueri(!s, Philadel- 

Anaiehj Academa Romaua, Bucharest. 

Anales de la Universidad Central del 
Ecuador, (^uito. 

Anales de la Fniversidad de Monte- 

Annaes Biblioteca National, Rio.Taiieiro. 

Anualcu der Physik und Chemie, Leipsic. 

Annales de Chimie et de Physi(iue, Paris. 

Annals of Scottish Natural History. Edin- 

Anuuaire, Socidtedesetudesjuives, Paris. 

Anniiaire israelite, Societe des dtudes 
Juivcs, I'aris. 

Annuairo Statisti(|U(! des I'ays-j'ias, Ani- 

Animal K'eport Aiiricultural Bureau, 

Annual li'eporl Chiswick I'ree Public 

Annual Rejiort Department of Agricul- 
ture, Brisbane. Peport I)e]»'t of Mines, Sydney. 

Annual Pe])ort Gordon 'I'echnical Col- 
lege, (ietdong, Australia. 

Annual Iie|)orl and l*rospectus School of 
Alines, Stawell, Australia. 

Aninuuio Scolastico Regia Iniversita, 

Annuario Societa Reale Acadeniia di 
.'Vrcheologia, Nai)l<'S. 

Antiquitiiten-Zeitschnft, Strassbiirg. 

Anuario, Asociacion <le Ingenieros Indus- 
truxles, Barcelona. 

Archief Zeeuwsch Genootscha]) der We- 

tenschappen, Middelburg. 
Archives des SciiMices Biologiijues, St. 

Argus Annual, Cape Town. 
.\rmv and Navy Journal, New York. 
L'Art et Tidee,' Paris. 
Artist Printer, Chicago. 
Ateneo Italiano, Rome. 
Atti Societa Reale Accademia di Arche- 

ologia, etc., Naples. 
Babylonian and Oriental Record, I^on- 

Bacteriological World. Jtattle Creek, 

Baptist Quarterly Review, New York. 
Beibliitter zu den Annalen der Physik 

und Chemie, Leipsic. 
Bergmanns Kalender, Saarbriicken. 
liericht des akademischeu \'ereins deut- 

scher llistorie, Vienna. 
Pxn'ichte der l)ayerischen Ijotanischen 

(4esellschaft, Munich. 
Berichte der deutsclieu chemischcn 

Gescllschaft, Berlin. 
Bible Advocate, Biiniingham. 
Bible Society Record, New Voik. 
Bildiograjdiie des Travaux Histori(iues 

et Arcli('()Iogi(|ues, Paris. 
l)ibliotheca Philologica Classica, lieiiin. 
I>icvcling ^V()^ld, Boston. 
Blacksmith ami Wheelwrigiit, N. Y. 
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. 
Body and Soul, Cardi'tf. 
P.oletini do la Sociedade Brotcriana, Co- 

i?oletim Sociedade dc ( ie()gra]>hia, Rio 

jioletim de AgricuHur.i, Min<'ria e Indus- 

trias, Mexico, 
lioletin jiibliographico y Escola, Mexico, 
lioletin (It! la Instituciou liibre de Ense- 

nanza, Madrid. 
Boletin dt; la Peal Academia de Ciencias 

y Artes, Barcelona. 
Boletin de la Sociedad Geogratica, Lima. 
Bollettino Mensile della Situazione dei 

Conti, etc., Rome. 
Bollettino <lelle J'u))blicazioni Italiaue, 

Bollettino della Reale Accademia Mt^dica, 




Bollettino della Societa Adriatica di 
Scieuze Natural!, Trieste. 

Bollettino della Societa di Naturalisti, 

Bollettino della Societa Romana per gli 
Stndi Zoologica, Rome. 

Book Buyer and Seller, Cincinnati. 

Book Shop, New York. 

Books, Denver. 

Brazilian Missions, Brooklyn. 

Breeder and Sportsman, San Francisco. 

British Naturalist, Hartlepool. 

Buletin Societatea Geogratica Romana, 

Bulletin A6rouautique, Paris. 

Bulletin Agricultural Experiment Sta- 
tion, Reno, Nevada. 

Bitlletiu Association Polytechnique, 

Bulletin Astronomique, Paris. 

Bulletin of the Botanical Department, 
Kingston, Jamaica. 

Bulletin Commission Archeologique de 

Bulletin Cornell University Experiment 
Station, Ithaca. 

Bulletin Department of Agriculture, 

Bulletin of the Geological Society of 

Bulletin of the Library and Museum 
of Laurent College, Montreal. 

Bulletin Mensuel des Publications Etran- 
geres, Paris. 

Bulletin Mensuel Statisti(iue Municiijale, 
Buenos Aires. 

Bulletin du Miuistere de ITnstruction 
Publicjue, Brussels. 

Bulletin New York Mathematical Society, 
New York. 

Bulletin Ontario AgriculturMl Experi- 
ment Farm, Toronto. 

Bulletin Pennsylvania State College 
Agricultural Experiment Station. 

Bulletin Societe d'Agriculture du D6pt. 
du Cher, Bourges. 

Bulletin de la St>ciete FrauQaise de Phy- 
sitiue, Paris. 

Bulletin de la Soci<?t(5 d'Histoire et 
d'Archdologie, Geneva. 

Bulletin de la Societe d'Horticulture du 
Doubs, Besan^^on. 

Bulletin Societe Royale Linndenne, Brus- 

Bulletin Soci«'te de Statistique des Sci- 
ences Naturelles, Grenoble. 

Buletinul Observatiinnilov Meteorologici 
din Romania, Bucharest. 

Bye-Gones, Oswestry, England 

Calabria, Monteleone, Italy. 

Cambridge University Reporter. 

Canadian Bee Journal, Beeton, Ontario. 

Canadian Entomologist, London, Onta- 

Canadian Patent Office Record, Ottawa. 

Canadian Poultry .Journal, Beeton, On- 

Canadiana, Montreal. 

Cape Times, Cape Town. 

Capitale (now L'Universelle), Paris. 

Carpet and Ui)holsterj' Trade Review, 

New York. 
Carpentery and Building, New York. 
Carrier Dove, San Francisco. 
Casopis pro prumysl chemicky, Prague. 
Cassier's Magazine, New York. 
Cesky Lid, Prague. 

Chinese-American Advocate, Philadel- 
Christian Recorder, Philadelphia. 
Christian Worker, Manchester, Eng- 

Chroni(iue IndiTstrielle, Paris. 
Church and Home Magazine, London. 
Church Union, New York. 
Circular System, (Oakland, California. 
Circular Leland Stanford, Jr., Univer- 
sity, Palo Alto, California. 
Civics, New York. 
Civil Service Record, Boston 
Clay Record, Chicago. 
Clay Worker, Indianapolis, 
('(dlector (monthly). New York. 
Collector (semimonthly), New York. 
Collector's Monthly, Danielsonville, 

College Echo, Austin, Tex. 
Compass, New York. 
Comptes Reudus des Seances de la Soci6t6 

Americaine, Paris. 
Com])te8 Reudus de L'Atheuee Louisia- 

nais. New Orleans. 
Conchologist, St. Andrews, Scotland. 
Congo Illustre (Le), Brussels. 
Contemporary Review, London. 
Contributions Historical Society. Helena, 

Ci)rnliill Magazine, London. 
Crank, Ithaca. 
Culture, Bombay. 
Current Review, New York. 
Darkest Russia, Loudon. 
Dedham Historical Register, Dedliam, 

Deutsche Znckeriudustrie, Berlin. 
Discovery, London. 
Documente })rivitor la Istoria Romanilor 

culese de Eudoxiu, Academia K'omana, 

Droit d'Auteur (Le), Berne. 
Ecclesiastical Chronicle, London. 
Echo Polyglotte (L'). Paris. 
Economista Espanol (El), Barcelonii. 
Edinburgh Review, Edinburgh. 
Electric Power, New York, 
Electrical Enter])rise, Boston. 
Electricity, New York. 
Elektrichestvo Zhurual, St. Petersburg. 
Electrotechnische Rundschau, Frankfort 

O. M. 
Entomologist's Record, London. 
Erdt'szeti Lapok Kiizlouye, Budapest. 
Esoteric, Applegate, Cal. 
Experiment Station Bulletin (U. S. Dept. 

of Agriculture). 
Experiment Station Record (U. S. Dept. 

of Agriculture). 
Fanciers' .Journal, Philadelphia. 
Farbeu-Indnstrie, Berlin, 
Farm, P'ield, and Stockman, Chiiago. 




Farmers' HuUetiu (I'. 8. Dcpt. of Agri- 

Fauna, Luxeniburf;. 

Federal Reporter, 8t. Paul. 

Ferusehau, Mittelschweizeriselio Geo- 
j>rai)hisehe Cciimiercielle Gesellscliaft 

F^inaneial World, Hoston. 

Fortnightly Review, London. 

Fortseliritte der Physik, ]>erliii. 

Franco-Gallia, Catssel. 

Freneh and German Eehoe.s, Loudon. 

Geelong Naturalist, CJeelouy, Australia. 

Gewerbelialle, New York. 

Gewerbesebau, Dre.sden. 

Great Divide, Denver. 

Guide, Glasgow. 

Hapisgoli, Baltimore. 

Harness Gazette, Rome, N. Y. 

Helios, Frankfort o. O. 

Hide and I^eatlier, Chicago. 

Hintz's Moderne Hiiuser. Berlin. 

Hoisting, 8taniford, Conn. 

Home ami Country, New York. 

Home (iieer, New York. 

Ice and Refrigeration, Chicago. 

Illustrirte Welt, Stuttgart. 

Insckten-Borse, Leipsic. 

Instructor (El), AguasCalientes, Mexico. 

Internati<male Patent- Zeituug, Berlin. 

Inventors' Review, Loudon. 

Inzhjenjer, Kiev. 

Iowa School Journal, Des jNIoiues. 

Irish Naturalist, Dublin. 

Irrigation Age, Denver, Colo. 

Iron Belt, Roanoke, Va. 

Jahresbericht Geographische Gesell- 
scliaft, Bern. 

Jahresberichte Verein fiii- l-lrdlvunde, 

Jewish ilessenger, New York. 

Journal of Comparative Neuroloyv, (iian- 
ville. Ohio. 

.Journal de I'ficlairage an Gaz, Paris. 

.lournalof the Engineering .Society of tin; 
Lehigli University, Bethlehem, Pa. 

Journal of the Institute of .Jamaica, 

Journal of Medical Plul(>s<)])hy and Prac- 
tice, Pliihuhdpiiia. 

.Journal of Philately, New York. 

.Journal of IMiiloIogy, Cambridge, Eug. 

.lournal of the Polynesian Society, Well- 

Journal of the Society of Dyc^rs and C'ol- 
orists. Bradford, England. 

.Journal of the U. S. Artillery, Fort Mon- 

Juvenile Magazine for tlie Young, Lon- 

Kansas University Quarterly, Lawrence. 

Knowledge, Ne^y ^'ork. 

K. T. S. News, Mount Sterling, Ky. 

Laudwirthschaftliche .lahrl)uch der 
Schweiz, Bern. 

Library Ivecord, .Jersey City. 

Light, Loudon. 

l^ithogra))her, l.,oudon. 

Lithographers' Pliiladeljthia. 

Littell's I^iving Age, Boston. 

Litterarischer iVIerkur, Weimar. 
Jjocomotive Engineering, New York, 
l^ondoy (Quarterly Review, London. 
Ijongnian's Magazine, Loudon. 
Manufacturer and Builder, New York. 
iNIanni'acturers' Engineering and Exjiort 

.Journal. London. 
Marin<' liundschau, Berlin. 
MariiH'. Verordnungsblatt, lierlin. 
Materianx et Documents d'Aichitectiire 

et de Sculi)ture, Paris. 
Meddelelser fra Carlberg l>aboraloriet, 

Menioires Societe Royale d(^ Geogra]ihie, 

Antwerp. • 

Memoirs British Astronomical Associa- 
tion, London. 
Memorias Sociedad Cientifica, Mexico. 
Memorie Societa degli Spettroscopisti 

Italian!, Rome. 
Mcrcuri(! Occidental, Guadalajara. 
Meteorologich e s k i j a N o 1) 1 j u d e n i j a , 

Methodist Review, New York. 
Milling, Indianapolis. 
Mineralogists' Alagazine, Jersey (Uty. 
Minerals, New York. 
Miner\a, Rome. 
Minutesofthe Managing Connnittt'f, I'ro- 

vincial Museum, Lucknow. 
Mitteilnngeu aus dem gesammteu Ge- 

))iete der englischen Sprache und Lit- 

teratur, I>eipsic. 
]SIitteilungen der Vereinigung von Freuu- 

den der Astronomie und kosmischen 

Physik, Berlin. 
Mitteiluugeu Vereins fiir Ivunst nnd Al ter- 

tlium, Clm. 
Mittheiluugen von F. A. lirockhaus, 

Mittheiluugen aus dem Gebiete der ange- 

wandteu Naturwisseuschaften, Schon- 

berg, M()ra\'ia. 
Mittheiluugen des ornithologischen Ver- 
eins, Vienna. 
Mittheiluugen der Section fiir Naturkun- 

de, Oesterreichischen Touristen-Club, 

Mittheiluugen der statistischen Amtes, 

Mittheilnugeu des Verbandes deutscher 

Architekten und Ingenieure, Berlin. 
Modern Language Monthly, Loudon. 
Modeiii Miller, Kansas (Uty. 
Monatsbliitt der uunusmatischen (Jesell- 

schaft, Vienna. 
Monitor de la J'^lucaciou (!oiuun, Buenos 

Montlily Bulletin Colorado State Weather 

Service, D<'nver. 
Monthly Bulletin Texas Weather Serv- 
icer, (Jalvestou. 
Monthly Chronicle oi" North ( 'oundy Lore 

and iLegend, Newcasth; u. Tyne. 
Monthly Weather Review, Calcutta. 
MouN'emcnt 7\ntics(da\agist'>, Bruss(ds. 
\abytki I'.ibliot eki, Crai-ow. 
Xarragausetl Historical Register, I'rovi- 

Nasba I'istsha, St. I'etersburg. 



National Coopers' Jourua], Bnftalo, N. Y. 

National Educator, Alleutown, Pa. 

National Monitor of Poultry aniT Pets, 
Fort Wayne, Ind. 

Natural Science, London. 

Nature (La), Paris. 

Neptuuia, Venice. 

Nene Mitteilungen aus dem Gebiete der 
historisch-antiquarischen Fo r s c h nn- 
gen, Halle a S. 

Neue Pbilologische Rundshau, Gotlia.. 

New Jerusalem Magazine, Boston. 

New Nation, Boston. 

New Xpv\i State Library Bulletin, Al- 
bany, N. Y. 

Niueteentli Century, London. 

North American Review, New York. 

Nouvelles Geograpbiques, Paris. 

Observations faites a I'Observatoire Me- 
t^orologique, Kiev. 

Observations Finska Vetenskaps-Societe- 
teus meteorologiska Centralanstalt, 

Observations Institut M(5te<)rologique 
Central, Helsingfors. 

Oesterreichisclie Zeitscbrift fiir Ver- 
waltung, Vienna. 

Onderzokningen Physiologiscbe Labora- 
toriet, Utrecbt. 

One and All, Birmingbam. 

Onward and Upward, Aberdeen. 

Operele priucipelier Dimileantermiru, 

Ornithologist and Botanist, Birming- 

Our Day, Boston. 

Painswick Annual Register. 

Painting ami Decorating, Philadelphia. 

P. C. P. Alumni Report, Philadelphia. 

Pedagogical Seminary, Worcester. 

Pestalozzibliitter, Zurich. 

Peterborough Diocesan Magazine, Lei- 

Petit fitrauger (Le), Paris. 

Pharmaceutical Record, New York. 

Phonographic Magazine, Cincinnati. 

Phosphate (Le), Amiens. 

Photographic Vv^ork, London. 

Photographischer Correspondenz, Vi- 

i»*ostal Record, New York. 

Power and Transmission, Mishawaka. 

Proceedings of the Cotteswold Natural- 
ists' Field Club, Cheltenham. 

Proceedings of the Society of Antiqua- 
ries, Newcastle u. Tyne. 

Protokoly Zasiedanij oidjelenija, Khimii, 
St. Petersburg. 

Public Library Bulletin, Los Angeles. 

Publications Alfred University, Alfred 
Center, N. Y. 

Publications of the Architectural Asso- 
ciation, L(jndoii. 

Publications from Dr. C.U. S. Aurivillius, 

PublicationsGuilbj-AllesIjibrary, Guern- 

Publications by Jardin, M. Ed. 

Publications K. K. orientalische Akade- 
mie, Vienna, 

Publicationen des Kunigliehen Museum 
fiir Naturkunde, Berlin. 

Publications of Dr. Olseu. 

Publications Section de Moscou de la 
Soci6t6 Impdriale Technique, Moscow. 

Publications UniAersity, Vienna. 

Quarterly Bulletin American Catholic 
Hist. Society, Pliiladelphia. 

Quarterly Review, London. 

Raportu asupra activitatei, Academia 
Romaua, Bukarest. 

Rapport ficole Polytechnique Suisse, 

Records and Pa^jers of the New London 
County Historical Society, New T,ou- 
don. Conn. 

Reformed Churcli Jlossenger, Philadel- 

Reformed Quarterly Review, Philadel- 

Regents' Bulletin, N. Y. State Lil>rary, 
Albany, N. Y. 

Religio-Philosophical Journal, Chicago. 

Rendiconti Societa Reale Accademia di 
Archeologia, etc., Naples. 

Repertoire des Travaux de la Socicte de 
Statistique de Marseille. 

Repertorium fiir Meteorologie, St. Pe- 

Repertorium der technischen Journal- 
Litteratur, Berlin. 

Report Rotherhite Public Library. 

Report Society for Promoting Christian 
Knowledge, London. 

Review of Reviews, New York. 

Revista General de Marina, Madrid. 

Revista Italiana di Scieuze Naturali, 

Revista Militar de Chili, Santiago. 

Revista del Museo de la Plata, La Plata. 

Revue du Bas-Poitou. Fontenay-le- 

Revue de Botani(|ue, Audi. 

Revue Botauique, Paris. 

Revue de Botanique, Toiilouse. 

Revue do I'lScole d'Anthropologie, Paris. 

Revue des Etudes Juives, Paris. 

Revue d'Horticole, Marseilles. 

Revue Internationale Scientifique et 
Popuhiire des Falsiiications, Amster- 

Revue des I^ivres et de la Presse, Paris. 

Revue Mensuelle de I'Ecole d'Anthropolo- 
gie, Paris. 

Revue des Questions Histori<][ues, Paris. 

Revue des Questions Scientitiques, Brus- 

Revue des Sciences Naturelles de I'Ouest, 

Revue Universelle des Inventions Nou- 
velles, A, B, C, D, Paris. 

Richmond College Magazine, Galle. 

River-Plate Sport and Pastime, Buenos 

Romens's Journal, Cbarlotteuberg. 

Rosario, La Nuova Pompei (II), Ville di 
Pompei . 

Rural Californian, Los Angeles. 

Rutland County Historical Society, New- 
port, Vt. 



Salcty \':ilvc, New York. 

St. Josf]iirs Ailvoiate, Baltiiiiori'. 

Salem I'res.s Uisturieal ami <iciieal(t,i;i<'al 
KiHord. Salciii. 

Scottisli Notes and Queries, Aberdeen. 

Scottish Review, l,oudon. 

Seances do la Soeiete Fram.aisc de Phy- 
sique, Paris. 

Seifensieder Zeituni;, Augslsurn-. 

Selini (111, PaA-ia. 

Sliendun News, Shenduu, Va. 

Sitzun<>sl)erichte dev Ge8ells<diaft fiir 
Mor]>iiolo.i>ie nnd Physiolo«i,ie, Munich. 

Socialixditisehes Correspond en zh I a 1 1. 

Si)eioloi;ic News, lirooklyn. 

South Eastern Naturalist, Cantt^rlmry. 

Southeru Eann, Atlanta, Ga. 

Soiithern Historical Magazine, Charles- 
ton, W. A'a. 

Sozialpolitisch(\s Ceutralblatt. Berlin. 

Speaker, London. 

Sportsman's Review, Chicago. 

Strand's Magaziiie, London. 

Sugar, London. 

Sugar Beet, Philadelphia. 

Snpplemento Annuale alia, Euciclo}tediii 
<li ehimiea scientitica, etc., Turin. 

Sveusk Kemisk Tidskril't, Stockholm. 

Technics, Stawell, Australia. 

Temple Bar, London. 

Teunessee Journal of Meteorology, Nash- 

Textile Recoi-d of America. Philadelphia. 

Theoso])hist, Madras. 

Tidsskiift iVir I'olkuudervisning, Stock- 

Tidskril't diiml lands Liins I'ornnunues- 
foreuing, Ostersnnd. 

Tidsskrif tfor Physik og Cliemie, Copen- 

To-day, Boston. 

'I'orch, Ijondon. 

Tradition, I^a, Paris. 

Transactions of the Academy of Science, 
St. lionis. 

Transactions of tlie Canadian Institute, 

'J'ransactions Maiudicster Statistical So- 

'I'ransactions Mining Association of Corn- 
wall, Camborne. 

Transactions ofthe Yorkshire Naturalists, 
Union, Leeds. 

Travaux et Meinoires des Facultes de 

Travaux de la Section de Physico-Chim- 
i<|ui' d<5 la S<Kietc des Sciences Exi>eri- 
mentales. Kharkov. 

Ti'easurv of Ridigious 1'hought, New 

lTebersi(ditder ]'>in und Ausfuhrder wich- 

tigsten Waarenartikid, Bern, 
llcheuij.ja Zapiski, Kazan. 
Union Postale (L'), Bern. 
Union Signal (The), Chicago. 
U. S. C^atholic Historical Magazini', New 

U. S. Miller, Milwaukee. 
Universal Market, Berlin. 
University Extension Bulletin, Albany. 
University Magazine, New York. 
University Star, Dinaha, Nebr. 

schaft, l)ori)at. 
A'erotfeutlichungen des Rechen-Instituts 

der Kihiiglichen Sternwarte, Berlin. 
Yierteljahreshefte zur Statistik des 

deutscheu Reiches, Berlin. 
Voleur Illustr^, Paris. 
Yolkskunde, Ghent. 
Vom Eels zum Meer, Stuttgart. 
Vremennik Tsentralnije, St. Petersburg. 
Weather crop Bulletin, Crete, Nebr. 
Wee Willie Winkle, Aberdeen. 
Weekly Bulletin, Boston. 
Weekly Stationary Engineer, Chicago. 
Western Electrician, Chicago. 
Worcester Commercial and Board of 

Trade Bulletin, Worcester, Mass. 
Worksho]), New York. 
World's Progress, Cincinnati. 
Wiirttembergisch-Frauken, Hall am/ 

Year B(jok of Australia, Sydney. 
Yorkshire. County Magazine, Bradford, 

Yorkshire Notes and Queries, Bradford, 

Zdrowie miesifczrisk ])()swieconij, etc., 

Zcitschrilt i'iir aiiorganische Cheniie, 

Zeitschrift fiir dcutsche Philologie Halle 

Zeitschrift fiir Oologie, Berlin. 
Zeitschrift des Vereins deutscher luge- 

uieni'e, Berlin. 
Zeits(dirilt ^^■rein fiir Volkskunde, Berlin. 
Zeitschiiit fiir \'olkskunde, Halle a/S. 
Zeitschrift W(isti)renssicher (ieschiclits- 

Verein, Danzig. 
Zeitschrift fiir wisseuschaftliche (ico- 

gra))hie Weimar. 
Zeitschrift fiir wisseuschaftliche iHkros, 

kopie und fiir mikroskopische Technik- 


\'ery respectfully submitted. 

Mr. .S. P. Lan<;lky. 

Secretary of ike Smitlmoiiiidi Insiitutiun. 

P. Scu. DKK, 
Aotiiuj Librarian. 


Appendix V. 

Sir: I have tlK^ liouor to submit the following report, upon the piiljlicatioiis of the 
Smithsonian Institution Ibr the year eudiug June 30, 1892. 


Among the issues in quarto size a fragmentary ijublication, referred to and partly 
described in the las,t annual report as nearly ready, has been completed and dis- 
tributed during the present fiscal year. This fragment, as explained in the preceding 
report, is not included in the collected volumes of the ''Contributions to Knowledge," 
though produced in same form and style. It forms in the Smithsonian series: 

No. 800. ''Plates prepared between the years 1849 and 1859, to accompany a report 
on the Forest Trees of North America, by Asa Gray." This is a quarto l)rochure, 
comprising all the i)lates (23 in number) i)repared for Dr. Gray's long c<mtemplated 
work on forest trees. Though nearly forty years old, these plates, carefully en- 
graved and skillfulljr colored by hand, are here for the first time collected and 
issued, Avithout any descriptive text, no accounts or descriptions having been found 
among the lamented Dr. Gray's papers. 

No. 801. "Experiments in Aerodynamics." By S. P. Langley. Quarto volume of 
IV + 115 j)ages; illustrated with 11 figures in the text, and 10 plates. 


No. 787. "Lists of Institutions and Foreign and Domestic Libraries, to which it is 
desired to send future publications of the National Museum." (From the Report of 
the National Museum for 1889.) Octavo i)amphlet of -78 pages. 

No. 788. "Memoir of Heinrich Leborecht Fleischer." ByProf. A. Miiller. (From 
the Smithsonian Report for 1889.) Octavo pamphlet of 20 pages. 

No. 789. "On Aerial Locomotion." By F. W. Wenham. (From the Smithsonian 
Report for 1889.) Octavo pamphlet of 20 pages; illustrated with 6 figures. 

No. 790. "Photography in the service of Astronomy." By R. Radau. Translated 
from the French, by A. N. Skinner. (From the Smithsonian Report for 1889.) Oc- 
tavo pamphlet of 22 pages. 

No. 791. "A Memoir of Gustav Robert Kirchhoff." By Robert von Helmholtz. 
Translated from the German, by Joseph de Perott. (From the Smithsonian Report 
for 1889.) Octavo pamphlet of 14 pages. 

No. 792. "The Museums of the Future." By G. Brown Goode, Assistant Secretary 
of the Smithsonian Institution. (From the Report of the National Museum for 1889. ) 
Octavo pamphlet of 19 pages. 

No. 793. "Te Pi^o /e iZenwa, or Easter Island." By William J. Thomson. (From 
the Report of the National Museum for 1889.) Octavo pamphlet of 106 pages; illus- 
trated with 20 figures and 49 plates. 

No. 794. "Aboriginal Skin Dressing. A study based on material iu the U. S. 
National Museum." By Otis T. Mason. (From the Report of the National ]\Iuseum 
for 1889.) Octavo i>ami)hlet ot 62 i)ages; illustrated with 32 plates. 

No. 795. "The Puma or American Lion (Feliscoitcolor of hinnxns). By Frederick 
W. True. (From the Report of the National Museum for 1889.) Octavo pamphlet 
of 18 pages; illustrated with 1 plate. 


No. 796. " Animiils icciMitly oxtiuet, or thi-Biitened with extermiiiatioii, us repre- 
sented ill the collections of the U. S. National Museum." By Frederick A. Lucas. 
(From the Report of the National Museum for 1889.) Octavo pamphlet of 41 pages; 
illustrated with 9 (ignres and 11 plates. 

No. 797. ''Tlu; development of the American Kail aiul Track, as illustrated liy the 
collection in the V. 8. National Museum." liy ,]. Elfreth Watkins. (From the Re- 
port of the National Museum for 1889.) Octavo pamphlet of 58 pages; illustrated 
with 115 ligures. 

No. 798. "Explorations in Newfoundland and Labrador in 1887, made in connec- 
tion with the cruise of the U. S. Fish Commission schooner Grampits." By Frede- 
rick A. Lucas. (From the Report of the National Museum for 1889.) Octavo i)am- 
phlet of 20 pages; illustrated with 1 plate or sketch map. 

No. 799. -'Prcdiminary Handbook of th<' Department of Geology of the U. S. Na- 
tional Museum." Hy George P. Merrill. (From the Report of the National Museum ; 
Appendix.) Octavo pamphlet of 50 pages. 

No. 803. "The .Squaring of the Circle." By Herman Sliubcrt. (Froju the 'Smith- 
sonian Report for 1890.) ■ Octavo pamphlet of 21 pages. 

No. 804. "An Account of the Progress in Astronomy for the years 1889, 1890." By 
William C. Winlock. (From the Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo ])amphlet 
of 02 pages. 

No. 805. "M.-ithcmaticalTluMU-iesof the Earth." By RcdjcrtS. Woodward. (From 
the Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo jtamphlet of 18 pages. 

No. 806. "On tin; Physical Structure of the P^arth." By Henry Heuncssy. (From 
the Smithsouiau Report ibr 1890.) Octavo iiamjdilet of 19 pages. 

No. 807. "(ihicial (Jeology." l!y .I.iiues (icikic. (From tln^ Smitiisonian Report 
for 1890.) ()<tavo i)ami)hletof 10 ])ages. 

No, 808. " The History of the Niagara River. ' i'.y (J. K. {4ilbert. (Fnmi the Smith- 
sonian Report lor 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 46 pages: illuslrated with 8 ])lates. 

No. 809. "The Mediterranean Physical and Historical." liy Sir R. L. Playfair. 
(From the Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 18 pages. 

No. 810. " Stanley and tiie luap of Africa." By J. Scott Keltic. (From the Smitii- 
sonian Repm't lor 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 15 i)ages; illustrated with 2 niai)s. 

No. 811. "Antarctic p]xploratioiis." By G. S. (iriffiths. (From the Smithsonian 
Rcp(n-t for 1890.) (){;tavo pamphlet of 12iKigcs. 

No.812. "The History of (ieodctic; Operations in K'lissia." By 15. Wilsko\vsi<i and 
.). Howard Gore. (From tlie Smithsonian Report tor 1S9(). ) Octavo paui])lilel of 1(» 

No. 8K!. "Quartz Fibers." By ('. V. Boys. (From the Smiliisouiaii Report for 
1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 20 pages; illustrated with 9 tigures. 

No. 814. "Dr. Kteuig's Researches on the Physical Basis of Musical Harmony and 
Timbre." By Sylvanus P. Thompson. (From the Smithsonian U'ejiort for 1890.) 
Octavo pamphlet of 25 pages; illustrated with 8 figures. 

No. 815. "The (Jhemical Problems of To-day." By Victor M(!yiM-. (From the 
Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 15 pages. 

No.816. "Tiie Photograidiic Image;." By Rai)hael Meldola. (Frrun the Smith- 
sonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 11 i)ages. 

No. 817. "A Tro))ical Botanic (Jardeii." By M. Trcul). (l>'rom the SmiMisonian 
Report for 1890.) Octavo ijanijihlet of 18 i)agcs. 

No. 818. ''Temperature and Life." By Henry de Varigny. (From the Smithso- 
nian Report for 1890.) Octavo ])amphlet of 18 pages. 

No. 819. "Morphology of the Blood Corpuscles." l>y Cliarles-Sedgwick Minot. 
(From the Smithsonian Re))ort for 1890.) Octavo ])am])lilet of 3 pages; illustrated 
with 1 plate. 

No. 820. "Weismann's Theory of Heredity." liy George .1. Romanes. (I'romtho 
Smithsonian Rciport for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 14 pages, 

H. Mis. lU G 


No. 821. "The Asceut of Man." By Frank Baker. ( From the Smithsonian Report 
for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 20 pages. 

No. 822. "Antiquity of Man." By John Evans. (From the Smithsonian Report 
ior 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 8 pages. 

No. 823. "The Primitive Home of the Aryans." By A. H. Sayce. (From the 
Smithsonian Report for 1890. ) Octavo pamphlet of 13 images. 

No. 824. "The Prehistoric Races of Italy." By Isaac Taylor. (From the Smith- 
sonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 10 pages. 

No. 825. "The Age of Bronze in Egypt." By Oscar Montelins. (From the Smith- 
sonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 23 pages; illustrated with 6 plates. 

No. 826. "An Account of the Progress of Anthropology in tlie year 1890." By 
Otis T. Mason. (From the Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 82 
pages; illustrated with 8 figures and 4 plates. 

No. 827. "A Primitive Urn Burial." By Dr. J. F. Snyder. (From the Smith- 
sonian Report for 1890.) Octavo jiamphlet of 5 pages; illustrated with 2 plates. 

No. 828. "Manners and Customs of the Mohaves." By George A. Allen. (From 
the Smithsonian Report for 1890.) One sheet of 2 octavo pages. 

No. 829. "Criminal Anthropology." By Thomas Wilson. (From the Smitlisonian 
Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 70 pages. 

No. 830. "Color-vision and Color-blindness." By R. BrudencU Carter. (From 
the Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 18 pages. 

No. 831. " Technology and Civilization." By F. Reuleaux. (From tiie Smithso- 
nian Report for 1890.) Octavo pami»lih!t of 15 pages; illustrated with 2 figures. 

No. 832. "TheRamsden Dividing Engine." By ,J. Elfreth Watkins. (From the 
Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamplilet of 19 pages; illustrated with 1 
figure and 3 plates. 

No. 833. "A Memoir of Elias Loomis." By H. A. Newton. (From tlie Smithsonian 
Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 30 pages. 

No. 834. "A Memoir of William Kitchen Parker." (From the Smithsonian Report 
for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 4 pages. 

No. 835. "Sale List of Publications of tlie Suuthsonian Institution, January, 
1892." Octavo pa-mphlet of 27 pages. 

No. 838. "Report on the International Congress of Orientalists." Held at Stock- 
holm, Sweden, and Christiania, Norway, in Se})lcml)er. lSi?9. By Paul llaui>t. 
(From the Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 8 jiages. 


No. 770. "Report of tlu^ National Museum. Annual Report of the Board of Re- 
gents of the Smithsonian Institution, showing the operations, expenditures, and 
condition of thi>. Institution for the year ending .June 30, 1889." This volume com- 
prises five sections : I. Rejjort of the Assistant Secretary of the Smithsonian Insti- 
tution, G. Brown Goode, in charge of the National Museum, upon the condition and 
prospects of the Museum; II. Reports of the Curators of the Museumnpon the ju'og- 
ress of work during the year; III. Papers describing and illustrating the collec- 
tions in the Museum; IV. Bibliography of publications and papers relating to the 
Museum during the year; and V. List of accessions to the Museum during the year. 
The whole accompanied with an index of 39 pages, and Appendix E. — Preliminary 
Handbook of the Department of Geology in the U. S. National Museum, of 50 pages, 
by George P. Merrill, Curator. This Report forms an octavo volume of xvii-(-933 
pages; illustrated with 144 cuts or figures in the text, and 107 plates. 

No. 786. "Report upon the condition and progress of the IT. S. National Museum 
during the year ending June 30, 1889." By G. Brown Goode, Assistant Secre- 
tary of the Smithsonian Institution, in charge of the National Museum. (From the 
Report of the National Museum for 1889.) Octavo pami»hlet of 277 pages; illustra- 
ted Avith four plates. 


No. 802. '' Proceedings of the Rojffiits, and lltspoit (tf tlie Exocntivc ('oniiiiittoe 
for the year 1889-'90, together with acts of Congress for tlie year. (l'>oiu the 
Smithsonian Report for 1890.) Octavo pamphlet of 32 pages. 

No. 386. "Report of S. P. Laugley, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, i"or 
the year ending Jnne 30, 1891." Octavo pamphlet of 63 i)ages. 

No. 837. "Annual Report of the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian Institution, 
showing th(! operations, expenditures, and condition of the Institution to July 
1S90." '{'ills volume contains the Journal of Proceedings of the Board of Regents 
ar tiie annual meeting held January 8, 1890; the report of the Executive Com- 
mittee of the Board ; acts and resolutions of Congress relative to the Institution, 
for tlio year; and the Report of the Secretary of the Institution: followed by the 
''(Teneral A])pendix," in which are given the following papers: "The Squaring of 
the Circle," by Herman Schnbert; "The Progress of Astronomy for the years 
1889, 1890," by William C. Winlock; "MaWiematical Theories of the Earth," by 
Robert S. Woodward; "Physical Structure of the Earth," by Henry Hennessy; 
"Glacial Geology," by James Geikit^; "History of the Niagara River," by G. K. 
Gilbert; "The Mediterranean, Physical and Historical," by SirR. L, Playfair; "Stan- 
ley and the Map of Africa," by J. Scott Keltie; "Antarctic Exploration," by G. S. 
({riffirhs; "History of Geodetic Operaticms in Russia," by B. Witskowski and J. 
Howard Gore; "Quartz Eib»',rs," by C. V. Boj's; "Ku-nigs's Researches on Musi- 
cal Harmony and Timbre," l)y Sylvanus P. Thompson; "Tlie Chcnucal Problems of 
I'o-day," by Victor Meyer; "The Pliotographic Image," by Rapluiel Mcldola; "A 
Tropical Botanic Garden," by M. Trenb; "Temperatun; anil Life," by Henry de 
Varigny; "Morphology of tlio Blood Corpuscles," by Charles S. Minot; "Weis- 
uianu's Theory of Heredity," by George J. Romanes; "The Ascent of Man," by 
I'ranlv Bakei; "The Antiquity of Man," by John Evans; "Primitive Home of 
the Aryans," by A. H. Sayce; "The Prehistoric Rates of Italy," by Isaac Taylor; 
"The Age of Bronze, in Egy]>t," by Oscar Montelius; "Progress of Anthropology in 
1890," by Otis T. Mason; "A Primitive Urn Burial," by J. F. Snyder; "Manners and 
(histoms of the Mohaves," liy (Jeorge A. Allien; "Criminal Anthro})ology," by 
Tiiomas Wilson; "Color-vision and C!olor- blindness," by R. Brudcuell Carter; 
"Techuology and CiA^lization," by F. Reulcaux ; "The Ramsden Dividing Engine," 
l)y J. E. Watkius; "Memoir of Elias Loouiis," by 11. A. Newton; and "MeuH)ir 
of William Kitchen Parker;" the whohi forming an octavo volume of xli-|-808 pages, 
illustrated with 29 hgures and 26 plates. 
Very rcs[»ectfully, 

Wm. B. Taylok, 

Jlr. .s. P. Lanui.kv, 

iSevrctari/ Sinilhxoinaii liinHtnlioii. 




The object of the GENERAL Ai'PENDlX 1o the Aiiiitiiil report of tlie 
Sinitiisoiiiaii Institution is to tiniiisii l)iiet' accounts of scieutilicdiscov- 
eiy iu partieulai' direetions; occasional reports of the investigations 
niade by colhiborators of the Institution; memoirs of a i^'eix^'al cliarac- 
ter or on S])ecial topics, wlietherorii^inal and prepared expressly for the 
pur])Ose, or selected from foreign journals and proceedings; and briefly 
hi jnesent (as fully as space will permit) such papers not published in 
the Snuthsonian Contributions or in the Miscellaneous (-ollecticms as 
may be sup|»ose(l to be of interest or value to the numerous correspond- 
ents of the institution. 

It has been a pronunent object of the Board of Eegents of the Smith- 
sonian Institution, from a very early date, to enrich the annual report 
re(|uired of them by law with memoirs illustrating the more remark- 
able and important deyeh)pments in physical and biological discovery, 
as well as showing the general character of the operations of the Insti- 
tution; and this purpose has, during the greater part of its history, 
been carried out largely by the i)ublication of such i)apers as would 
l)ossessan interest to all attracted by scientitic progress. 

In 18S0, the Secretary, induced in i)art by the discontinuance of an 
annual summary of jirogress which for thirty years previous had been 
issued by well-known ])rivate publisliing firms, had prepared by com- 
petent collaborators a serit's of abstracts, showing concisely the 
prominent features of recent scientific progress in astronomy, geology, 
meteorology, physics, chemistry, mineralogy, botany, zoiilogy, and 
anthro])ology. This latter ]»lan was continued, though not altogetlun- 
satisfactorily, down io and including the year 1SS8. 

In the re])ort for 1889, a return was made to the earlier method of 
])resenting a miscellaneous selection of ])a])ers (sonu^ of them original) 
embracing a ('onsiderable range of scientilic investigation aiul discus- 
sion. This method has been continued in the ])resent repm-t, for 1802. 




Tho Smitlisouiiin Institution Ims ;il\v:iys made it a rnlc ol' action to 
undertake vsucli lines of work as point the way to great public utilities, 
and these liave subsequently been made the function of useful govern- 
ment bureaus of ai)plied science. 

This is notably true in the case of meteorology, which was developed 
by the Institution in both its scientific and its iiopular asi)ects. until its 
importance became so well understood, and its utility so widely ap- 
preciated, that in 1S7(), (Jongress made it the duty of the riiief Signal 
Officer of the V. S. Army to observe and rei>ort storms for the benefit 
of commerc*^ and agriculture. 

The interest of the Smithsonian Institution in meteorology began 
with the organization of its work by its first secretary, Prof. Josci)h 
Henry, in 1847, and from that time to the present — nearly half a cen- 
tury — meteorological science has been granted an important share of its 
labors and expenditure. 

In his " programme of organization, " submitted on the 8tli of Decem- 
ber, 1847, in giving examples of objects for which appropriations might 
l)roperly be made, the Secretary mentioned first, and urged ui)on the 
immediate attention of the Institution, a "system of extended meteor- 
ological observations for solving the problem of American storms. " 
This clear appreciation of the existing state of knowledge, and of the 
utilities to be gained, are set forth in the following words, with which 
he commends this undertaking: 

Of late years, in (nir country, m<Ko adilitions have heon made to nieteoroloi^y tlian 
t() any ottier branch ofpliysical science. Several important generalizations have 
been arrived at, and definite theories proposed, wlrich now enable us to direct our 
attention, with scientilic precision, to such points of observation as can not fail to 
reward us withnew andiutenistingresults. It is proposed to organize a systemof ob- 
servations which shall extend as far as ]»ossible over the North American continent. 
Tlie present time a])i)ears to be jtecnliarly auspicious lor conunencing an enterprise 
of the ])i'oposed kind. Tho citizens of the Ihiited States are now scattered over 
every part of the southern and western portions of North America, and the extended 
lines of the telegraph will furnish a ready means of warniiig tlie more northern and 
eastern observers to be on the watch for tlie iirst appearance of an advancing storm. 

In the inauguration of this system of observations, Prof. Henry so- 
licited the suggestions of the most experienced American meteorolo- 
gists — Espy, Loomis, and Guyot — who extended their cordial co-opera- 

* Summary prepared for the 8ecti(m of history, AVorld's Congress of Meteorology, 

Chicago. 1893. 



Accompauyiiig the above-quoted presentation of liis programme the 
Secretary published a valuable, and now liistoric, report by Prof. 
Loomis upon the meteorology of the United States, in which he showed 
what advantage society might exi)ect from the study of storms, what 
had been already done in this country toward making the necessary 
observations, and, finally, what encouragement there was to a further 
prosecution of the same researches. He then jjresented in detail a plan 
for unifying- all the work done by existing observers, and for supple- 
menting it by that of new observers at needed points, for a systematic 
supervision, and, finally, for a thorough discussion of the observations 

On the J 3th of December, 1847, the Board of Regents adopted the 
"programme of organization," and on the 15th inaugurated the sys- 
tem of meteorological observations by an appropriation of $1,000 for 
the purcliase of instruments and other related expenses. 

In the following year (1848) Prof. Espy, who was then the official 
meteorologist of the Navy Department, was assigned to duty under the 
direction of the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. In connec- 
tion withEsj^y, the Secretary (Henry) addressed a circular letter to all 
persons who would probably be disposed to take part in the contem- 
plated systems of observations, and cooperation was solicited from the 
existing systems under the direction of the Surgeon-General, and of 
the States of New York and Pennsylvania. As a result of these efforts 
the Institution at the close of ISIO, already had one hundred and fifty 
daily observers, and the number continued to increase. 

In order to unify the methods adopted by observers, Prof. Guyot 
was requested to prepare a pamphlet of Directions for Meteorological 
Observations,* which was publislied in 1850, and to compile a collec- 
tion of Meteorological Tables, which was published as a volume of the 
Miscellaneous Collections in 1852. In 1857, after careful revision by 
the author, a second and much enlarged edition of the Tables was pub- 
lished, and in 1859, a third, with further amendments. xUthougli de- 
signed primarily for the meteorological observers reporting to the 
Smithsonian Institution, the Tables obtained a much wider circulation, 
and were extensively used by meteorologists and physicists in Europe 
and the United States. An imj)ortant step taken at the inception of 
the Smithsonian system was the introduction of accurate instruments. 
Standard barometers and thermometers were imported from Paris and 
London, with which those made for the use of the Institution were 
compared, and sets of such apparatus were furnished to observers. 

In 1849, Prof. Henry personally requested the telegraph companies to 

* Smithsonian Institution. Directions for Meteorological Obser\'ations, intended 
for the first ch\ss of observers. Washington City, 1850. Reprinted with additions 
in Annual Report for 1855, and again us a part of the Smithsonian Miscellaneous 
Collections in 1870. 


ili icct 1 licir operators ((> i-e[)I;icc in tln-ir i<\iiular iiioiiiiiii; disjialclies 
Hie signal, "•(). K.,'' by wliicli they wciv. acciistoincd to ainiouiicc that 
tlicir lilies were in order, by sncli words as "fair." '•cloudy/' etc., thus 
.iii\iii.U. without additional trcuible, and as coiu'isely as possible, a suin- 
niaryofthe condition of the weather at the ditfeient stations, which 
slionld be comnuinicated to liinu This request was coini)lied with, and 
such elementary telegraphic Aveather re])()rts were thus furnished the 
Institution daily, without charge. This action of ]*rof. Henry, which 
has sometimes been erroneously ascribed to Prof. Espy, was the be- 
ginning of telegraphic weather service, nothing of the kind having 
been attemi)ted in Euro])e until a later date, and by means of these re- 
ports ])redictions of coming storms, with all the Jiow recognized advan- 
tage to the country at large, were juade possible. With the material 
thus obtained the Institution was enabled in LS.")!), to construct the hrst 
current weather map, gi\'ing daily, from "live data," the meteorological 
conditions over the whole cimntry. This ma]) was hung where the pub- 
lic <'ould have g<Mieral access to it to observe the changes, and its indi 
cations were tirst published at large by signals displayed from the high 
tower of the Institution. This method was followed, and further ex- 
tended, by publications in the Washington Eroiiiuj t^iar in ISoT, and 
such general interest was manifested in the subject that telegraphic 
weather rei)orts were thereafter furnished to the yHtar for daily publi- 
cation. The systematic notification of the general i)ublic by the press 
and otlierwivSe of Aveather observations, api)ears, then, to have been 
undoubtedly due to Henry, and unquestionably to have preceded by a 
year a similar j)ubIication in 1858, of Leverrier, to whom this pioneer 
step has been erroneously attributed. 

In 1858, the meteorological inap already in use was improved by the 
adoption of circular disks of different colors, which were attached to it 
by pins at each station of observation, and indicated by their color 
the state of the atmosphere — white signifying clear Aveather; gray. 
cloudy; black, rain, etc. The disks had an arrow stamped u])on them, 
and as they AA'cre so arranged that they could be attached to the map in 
any direction, the motion of the Avind at each station was shown by them, 
and the ''probabilities'' thus more accurately forecast. 

The study of the meteorological data, begun in 1849, continued under 
the direction of the Institution fm- twenty-five years, during which tinu' 
numerous publications were issued relative to temperature, rainfall, 
hygrometry, and casual phenomena, Avhile i)oi)ular information was con- 
tinuously disseminated by publishing telegraphic weather reports, maps, 
etc. Ajnong the associates of the Institution in this branclj of investi- 
gation may be mentioned I*rof. J^vspy, and later. Prof. J. H. Coftin, Mr. 
C. A. Schott, ami others. Their Avork may be concisely <lescrib(^d as 
follows: Prof. Espy utilized the already collected data in the prepa- 
ration of his Third an<l Eourtli Meteorological Reports. After the 


Smitlisoniaii observations were practically completed, Mr. Scliott* took 
the data and prepared elaborate tables ot" tenii^erature and precipita- 
tion, wliicli were published in the Smithsonian Contributions to Knowl- 
edge. , 

Prof. Coflint compiled his great work on the laws of the winds, and 
contributed various lesser works to the bibliography of the Institution 
on meteorological subjects. 

The first collection of meteorological tables compiled by Dr. Guyot, 
at the request of the Institution, was published in 1852, as a volume of 
the Smithsonian Miscellaneous Collections, and new editions were pub- 
lished in 1857, and 18.59. Twenty-tive years later the wfU'k Avas again 
revised, and a fourth edition was published (1884). The demand for 
these tables exhausted this edition in a few years; it was then de- 
cided to re-cast the work entirely, and publish it in three parts, one of 
meteorological, one of geograx^hical, and one of physical tables, each 
representative of the latest knowledge in its field, and independent of 
the others, but the three forming a homogeneous series. 

The desirability of establishing a meteorological departnuMit under 
one comprehensive system, with an adeipiate appropriation of funds, 
was frequently urged by the Smithsonian Institution, and in 18(59 an 
api^ropriation of $25,000 was made by Congress for the adoption and 
nuiintenance of a code of weather signals on the northern lakes, under 
the direction of the Chief of the Signal Cor])s of the United States 
Army. The Government having thus evinced a willingness to take 
charge of the meteorological system of the country, and it being the 
policy of the Institution to do nothing which could be accomplished as 
well by other means, the work of the Smithsonian in this direction was 
freely relinquished by the Institution, although its formal transfer to 
the War Department did not take place until 1874. 

During the period when the Smithsonian was directly in charge of 
meteorological researches in the United States, its expenditures in 
this connection, which had been voluntarily assumed, were over |G0,000. 
In addition to this the Institution made a contribution of incalculable 
value in the stimulus given to investigations of this class by the active 
personal interest of its first Secretary, who always devoted much time 

*Schot.t, C. A.: Base cLart of the Uiii ted States. Discussion of Caswell's meteoro- 
logical observations at Providence, R. I.; Cleavelaud's meteorological observations 
at Brunswick, Me.; Hayes's physical observations in the Arctic Seas; Hildreth and 
Wood's meteorological observations at Marietta, Ohio; Kane's astronomical observa- 
tions in the Arctic Seas ; Kane's magnetic observations in the Arctic Seas ; Kane's 
meteorological observations in the Arctic Seas; Kane's physical observations in the 
Arctic Seas; Kane's tidal observations in the Arctic Seas; McClintock's meteoro- 
logical observations in the Arctic Seas ; Smith's meteorologcfil observations m.ade near 
Washington, Ark.; Tables, distribution, and variation of atmospheric temperature; 
Tables of rain and snow in the United States. 

t Coffin, J. II. : Orbit and phenomena of meteoric fire ball; Psychrometrical tables; 
Storms of 1859; Winds of the globe; Winds of the northern hemisphere. 


and tiioiiglit to this isubject, while even alter tlie transfer ollhe Smith- 
sonian system to the War Department, the disenssion and ])nblieation 
of the material already aecumulated was eontinued by the Institution. 

The Smithsonian Institution may, then, be termed the i)arent of the 
l)resent Weather Bureau. 

In 1891, the present Secretary (Mr. S. P. Laugley) deposited in the 
United States Si.uiial Oflice all the volunnnous monthly records of the 
Institution, and all the manuscrii»t and printed observations and con- 
tributions relating- to meteorology, subject to recall, but with the un- 
derstanding that the entire official record of research and progress in 
this connection should be preserved intact by the Bureau which now 
has these iuvestigations in charge. 


!>y Piol". C. S. IlASTmGS, Yalv Uiiircr.sitij. 

Tlicie is no instiuuieiit wliicli has done so mn{;!i to widen the scope 
of human knowledge, to extend our notions of tlic universe, and to stim- 
uhite intelh'ctual activity as has the telescope, unless the microscope 
be regarded as a successful rival. But even admitting a parity in 
scientitic iin|)ortance, the former instrument is incomparably niorv 
interesting in its history, in the same degree that its history is more 
simple and more comprehensible. To trace its development from a 
curious toy in the hands of its discoverer, for we shall see that this term 
is more appropriate than inventor, to the middle of this century, is to 
be brought into contact with most of the great philosophers, from the 
tiiue of the Renaissance, who have achieved greatness in physical 
science, Galileo, Torricelli, Huyghens, Cassiui, jSTewtoi], Halley, Kepler, 
Euler, (yahiiault, the Herschels, father and son, Fraunhofer, Gauss — 
from only a portion of the list of great names. Its growth toward per- 
fection has constant 1\- carried with it increased [>recisi()n in the applied 
sciences of navigation ami of all branches of engineering. It would be 
easy to show that even pure matheniatics would be in a far less forward 
state had there been no problems of astronomy and physics which were 
tirst suggested by the emi)loyment of the telescope. It is to. this his- 
tory that I venture to invite your attenti(m this evening. L purpose to 
re\iew succinctly the origin and development of tliis potent aid in the 
study of nature, to mmu' some of the more imi)ortant ac^hievemeuts de- 
l)ending ui)on it, and to tra(;e its gradual improNcment to the nuigniti- 
cent and coni])licated instrument which constitutes the modern eipia- 
torial. After this sketch I shall tiy to give an ideai of the imperfections 
which the conscientious artisan has to contend with in attaining per- 
fection, and to make clear the methods which ha-\ e been employed in 
reducing these imperfections in the noble instrument now erected at 
this institution,! and ex])lain why its ])osse!4Sors are so hopeful of grat- 
ifying success. 

* Addi-eas delivered at the dedication of tlio fJoodsell Observatory of Carleton 
Cnll('<jje, Nortlifield, Minn.. June 11, 1891. (I'roni the Sidirral .Ucsseiif/er, August, 

1891, vol. X, pp. 3ar.-:!.-)i. > 

t Carleton Collcirf. 



Galileo learned in 1009, while visiting Venice, tliat a marvellous in- 
strument had been invented the preceding year in Holland, which 
would enable an observer to see a distant object with the same distinct- 
ness as if it were only at a small fraction of its real distance. It required 
but little time for the greatest physicist of his age to master the prob- 
lem thus suggested to his mind, and after his return to Padua, where he 
held the position of professor of mathematics in the famous university 
of that city, he set himself earnestly to work making telescopes. Such 
was his success that in August of the same year he sent to the Vene- 
tian senate a- more perfect instrument than they had been able to pro- 
cure from Holland; and in January of the next year, by means of a 
telescope magnifying thirty times, he discovered the four satellites of 
Jupiter. This brilliant discovery was followed by that of the mountains 
in the moon ; of the variable x>li<ises of Venus, which established the 
Goiiernican theory of the solar system as incontestible, and of the true 
nature of the Milky Way, together with many others of less philosoph- 
ical impoi'tance. Though Galileo did not cliange the character of the 
telescope as it was known to its discoverer in Holland, he made it 
much more perfect; and above all, made the first and most fertile ap- 
plication of the instrument to increase the bounds of human knowledge, 
so that it is inevitable that his name should be indissolubly connected 
with the instrument. Thus the form which he used is to this day 
known as the Galilean telescope. 

Considering the enormcms interest excited throughout intellectual 
Europe by the invention of the telescope, it seems surprising that its 
early history is so confused. Less than two years after it was first 
heard of, a discovery, iterhaps the greatest of a thousand years in the 
domain of natural philosophy, had been made by its means. Notwith- 
standing these facts, the three contemporary, or nearly contemporary, 
investigators assign the honor to three different persons, and if we 
should write out the names of all those to whom more modern writers 
have attributed the invention, the list would be a long one. The sur- 
prise will not be boundless, however, if we consider the task before a 
historian in the next century who undertakes to justly apportion the 
honor of the invention of the telephone among its numerous claimants. 
The analogy, though suggested in the obvious fact that the telephone 
is to hearing just what the telescope is to sight, may be made much 
closer if we could imagine the future historian de[>rived of all but verbal 
description, that contemporary diagrams and models were wholly want- 
ing. Under such conditions it is difficult to believe that the historian 
would easily escape ante-dflting the discovery of the telephone projjcr 
on account of descriptions, generally imi)eriect, of the acoustic tele- 
phone. But this would fairly represent the condition of the material 
at the command of an investigator of the present day into a question 
of science of the early part of the seventeenth century. No wonder, 
then, that the invention has been attributed to Archimedes, to Jloger 


Bacon, to Porta, and to many others who have written on optics; but 
to find the name of Satan iu the list is certainly surprising. Still we 
read that a very learned man of the seventeenth century, named Arias 
^lontanus, tinds in the fourth chapter of Matthew, eighth verse, evi- 
dence that Satan possessed, and probably invented, a telescope; othei- 
wisc, how could he have •' sliown him all the kingdoms of tlie world 
and tlie glory of them*'!'* It seems tc> be well established now, liow- 
ever. that Franz Lippershey, or Lii)pe]sheim, a spectacle maker at 
Middleburg, was the real inventor of the telescope, and that ( Galileo's 
first telescope, avowedly suggested by news of the Hollander's achieve- 
ment, was an independent invention. 

That this discovery was really an accident we may be quite sure, 
for not only was there no developed theory of optics at that time, but 
even the law of refraction, which lies at the basis of such theory, was 
quite unknown. So, too, it seems to me quite certain that Galileo's 
invention nuist have been empirical and guided by somewhat precise 
information, vsuch as that the instrument consisted essentially of two 
lei]ses, of which one was a magnifying and the other a diminishing 
lens. .Vt least, that (ialileo's telescope was like that of the Hollander; 
that, theoretically considered, it is not so sinqde as that made of two 
magnifying lenses, as is evinced by the fact that Kepler, the first 
l>liilosopher to establish an api)roximate theory of optical instruments, 
only two years later invented the latter and prevailing form; and 
finally, that (xalileo published no contributions to the theory of optics, 
seem (piite sufticient reasons for such a belief. But, in any case, (Ia- 
lileo's merit is in no wise lessened by having failed to do what coiUd 
not be done at that time, and the value of his discoveries in emanci- 
])ating men's minds from autliority in matters of pure reason is incal- 

No other discoveries <»f gieat moment were made until over a gen- 
eration after (raliUi* i)rove(l the existence of spots on the sun in Kill. 
This cessation of activity was doubtless owing to the dilUculty of se- 
curing telescopes of greater clficiency than that ]»ossessed by (lalileo, 
and wl\ich he would hardly hav(^ left until its ])owers of discovery had 
been fnlly exhausted in his own hands. By the middleof the seventeenth 
century, however, several makers of lenses had so far improved the 
methods of grinding and ])olishing, that telescoi»(\s notably su])erior in 
]»()\ver to that of (i^ableo were procurable. Of these Torricelli, Divini, 
and Campani, all Italians, — Auzout, Avho constructed a te]escoi)e 000 
feet in length, though no means was ever found for directing such an 
enormous instrument towards the heavens, — but above all, Huyghens, 
have W(m distinction as telescope -makers. The last named philos- 
oj)her discovered, by means of a telescope of his construction, the lar- 
gest satellite of Saturn in 1(555, tlius adding a fifth member to the list 

*The history of the telescope is admii-ably treated in Poggendorft's Gcuchkhtc 
dvr Phjisil:, from which the stateuieuts above are takeu. 

H. Mis. lU 7 


of planetary bodies unknowu to the ancieuts. But his most important 
astronomical discovery, made also in 105"), was the nature of tlie 
rings of Saturn. This object had greatly puzzled Galileo, to whose 
small telescope the planet appeared to consist of a larger s])here 
flanked on either side by a smaller one; but when in the course of the 
orbital motion of Saturn the rings entirely disappeared he was wholly 
unable to suggest an explanation. This planet had thus j)resented 
a remarkable problem to all astronomical observers for more than 
forty years, and the records of the eftbrts to solve it during that inter- 
val afford us a most excellent means of judging the progress in practi- 
cal optics. Huyghens announced these discoveries early in 1650, but 
that relating to the ring was given in the form of an anagram, the 
solution of which was first published in 1659. This discovery was 
contested in Italy by Divini, but was finally confirmed by members of 
the Florentine Academy with one of Divini's own telescopes. 

A few years later the famous astronomer Cassini, having come to 
Paris from Italy as royal astronomer, commenced a series of brilliant 
discoveries with telescopes made by Campani, of Eome. AVith these, 
varying in length from 35 feet to 13(5 feet, he discovered four satellites 
to Saturn in addition to the one discovered by Huyghens. The whole 
number was increased by Herschel's discovery of two smaller ones in 
1789, a hundred and five years after Cassini's last discovery, and again 
by Bond's discovery of an eighth in 1818. The Saturnian system, to 
which the telescope has doubtless been directed luore frequently than 
to anything else, thus serves as a record of the successive im])rove- 
ments of the telescope. Highly significant is the fact that the discov- 
eries of the eighteenth century were made with a reflecting telescope, 
the otliers all being with refracting instruuients. 

Cassini's discovery in 1681 of the two satellites now known as Tethys 
and Dione, was not accepted as conclusive until long afterwards, when 
Pound, in 1718, wich a telescope 123 feet in length, which Huyghens 
had made and presented to the Royal Society, saw all five. This par- 
ticular instrument is of especial interest, because it is the only one of 
those of the last half of the seventeenth century which has been care- 
fully compared with modern instruments. Moreover, it is without 
doubt quite equal in merit to any of that period. But we find that, 
although it had a diameter of 6 inches, its performance was hardly 
better than that of a perfect modern telescope of 4 inches in diameter, 
and, ])erhaps, 4i feet in length, while in regard to convenience in use 
the modern compact instrument is incomparably superior. 

Another notable discovery of this period was that of the duplicity 
of the rings of Saturn by the Ball brothers in 1665, though its inde- 
pendent discovery by Cassini ten years later first attracted the atten- 
tion of astronomers. The earlier discovery was made by means of a 
telescope 38 feet long which seems to have been of English manufac- 
ture. We must regard Cassini's discovery of the third and loiuth sat- 


cUite.s of kSaturu, however, as maiUiii-i tlie \ ery taitlicst reaeli of tlie 
old form of telescope; a century was to elapse and an entirely new 
form of telescope was to be developed before another considerable ad- 
dition to onr knowledge' of the aspect of the heavenly- bodies was to be 
iiiadt\ It is true larger telescopes were made, and ITuygheus invented 
a means by wliich they could be used without tubes, but notwithstand- 
ing this improvement they proved so cumbers(une as to be impracticable. 

The older o[)ticians had tbund that if they attempted to increase the 
diameter of a teleseojje they were obliged to increase its length in a 
much more rapi<l ratio to secure distinct vision. The reason of this 
was not clearly understood, but it was sui)posed to be owing to the fact 
that a wave front, changed in curvature by passing througli a s])herical 
surface, is no longer strictly spherical. This deviation in shai)e of tlu; 
refracted wave from a true sphere is called spherical aberration. When 
the refracting surfaces are large and of considerable curvature this 
soon becomes very serious, but by using small curvature, which, in a 
telescope, obviously conesponds to great length, theefl'eets of the error 
can l)e made insensible. Xewton's discovery of the com])osile, nature 
of light and of the phenomenon of dispersion enabled him to explain 
the true cause of indistinctness in short telescoi)es: mimely, that the 
refraction by the objective varies for different colors; conseiiuently, if 
the ocular is placed for one particular color, it will not be in the light 
position for any of the others, when(;e the image of a star or ])laiiet 
will stem to be suirounded by a fi'inge of colored light. Newton found 
this source of indistinctness in the image, wliich is now known as 
cliromati(; aberration, many hnndred times as serious as the s})her 
ica I aberrations. As he was i)ersuaded by his ex])eriments that this 
obstacle to further improvement in the refracting telescope was in- 
snperable, he turned his attention to a form of teleseojn' m hich had 
been suggested a number of years earlier in which (he image was to 
be formed by retlection from a concave mirror, and constructed a small 
one with his own hands which is still in the possession of the b'oyal 
Society. This little instrument seems to have been ol" about the same 
]»ower as Galileo's instrument with which he discovered the satellites 
of Jupiter, but is was hardly more than (J inches in length. 

Since that time the retlecting telescope has had a remarkable history 
of develo])menl in the hands of a number of most skillful mechani- 
cians, who liave also for the most part beeu distinguished by their dis- 
coveries in i»liysical astronomy; we may therelbre advantageously 
depart from the chronological treatment and follow the history of this 
type of instrument. This c(mrse is the more natural because we may 
probably regard the snpremacy of the relleetor (undisputed a century 
ago) as passed away tore\'er. 

Even after Newton's invention was made ])ul»lic, little was done 
towards the improvement of telescopes Ibi- half a century, until Hadley 
presented a relleetor of his own construction to the iioyal Society iu 


1723, which was found to be e(j[ual to the Huygheus refractor of 123 
feet in length. From this time we may date the l)eginuiug of the 
superiority of reflectors, A few years kiter Short commenced his 
career as a practical optician, and for thirty years he was unapi)roached 
in the excellence of his instruments. During this time many telescopes, 
more powerful than the best of the previous century and infinitely more 
convenient in use, had been made and scattered throughout Europe, 
but during this period also there was a singular dearth of telescopic 
discovery. Perhaps men thought that the harvest had already been 
gathered ; or, perhaps, we may find the explanation in that the great 
cost of telescopes so restricted their use that the impulse to discovery 
by their means was confined to a very small class. In view of the 
remarkable manner in which the standstill in this branch of science 
was finally followed by a brilliant period of discovery, rivalled alone 
by that of Galileo, we might well regard the latter cause as the chief 

William Ilerschel was born in 1738 in Hanover. In 1755 he left his 
native country, and going to England, secured a i)osition as organist 
in Octagon Chapel, Bath, where we find him in 1700. Here he became 
so profoundly interested in the views of the heavens which a borrowed 
telescope of moderate power yielded, that he tried to purchase one in 
London. The cost of a satisfactory instrument proving beyond his 
command, he determined to construct one with his own hands. Thus 
he entered upon a course which was to reflect honor upon himself, his 
country, and his age, and which was to add more to physical astronomy 
than any other one man has added before or since. With almost 
inconceivable industry and perseverance he cast, ground, and polished 
more than four hundred mirrors for telescopes, varying in diameter 
from 6 to 48 inches. This in itself would imply a busy life in any arti- 
san, but when we remember that all this was merely subsidiary to his 
main work of astronomical discovery, we can not withhold our admira- 

Fortunately for science as well as for himself, he made early in his 
career a discovery of the xevy first importance which attached the at- 
tention of all Christendom. On the night of March 13, 1781, Herschel 
was examining small stars in the constellation of Gemini with one of 
his telescopes of a little more than G inches in diameter, when he per- 
ceived one that ai)peared "visibly larger than the rest." This proved 
to be a new world, now known as Uranus. The discovery led in the 
following year to his ai>pointment as astronomer to the king, George 
III, with a salary sufficient to enable him to devote his whole time to 

One of the fruits of this increased leisure was the construction of a 
telescope far more powerful than had been dreamed of by his prede- 
cessors, namely, a telescope 4 feet in diameter and 40 feet in length. 
Commenced in 1785, Herschel dated its completion as August 28, 1789, 


when he (liS(H)veiecl by its uieaiis a sixth satellite <>l" Saturn and, less 
than a month later, a seventh, even closer to the planet and smaller 
than the sixth. We may regard this a(diievement as markinji the limit 
of progress in the reflecting telescope, for, although at least one as 
large is now in use, and one even half as large again has been con- 
structed, it is inore than doubtful whether they were ever as perfect as 
Herschers at its best. 

There has been one improvement however in the reflecting telescope 
since the time of Herschel which ought not to be left unnoticed here, 
namely, that of replacing the heavy metal mirror by one of glass, made 
even more highly reflective than the old mirrors by a thin coating of 
silver deposited by chemical methods upon the jtolished glass. The 
great advantage of this modern form of reflector lies, not so much in 
the greater lightness and rigidity of the material as in that the surface 
when tarnished can be renewed by the simple process of replacing the 
old silver fllm by a new one; whereas in the metal reflectors a tarnished 
sui'face required a repetition of the most difficult and critical i)ortion of 
the whole process of construction. The construction is also so comi>ar- 
atively simple that an efficient reflector is far less expeusiv^e than are 
refracting telescopes of like power, so that this may be regarded as 
particularly the amateur's telescope. On the other hand, such tele- 
sco})es are, like their ])redecess<)rs. extremely inconstant, and they re- 
(juire much more careful attention to keep them in working order. It 
is for these reasons, doubtless, that silver-on-glass reflectors have donc^ 
so little for the advancement of astronomical discovery. In astroncun- 
ical pliotograi)hy, however, they promise to do much; and indeed, at 
the present date by far the best photograi)hs Ave have of any nebuhe 
have been made by 'Slv. Common's magnificent reflector of 3 feet iu 
diameter, and by the L*() inch reflector of Mi-. Ifoberts. 

We must go back now to a quarter of a century before Herschel dis- 
covered the new ))lanct, — to the very year indeed when that great 
astronomei' first set foot on English soil, — in or<ler to trace tlio history 
of another form of tele.sco])e whicli has remained unrividlcd for the last 
half century in the more diflicult lields of astronomical research, and 
wliich to-day finds its most ])erfe(;t development in the instruments at 
Mount Hamilton, at Tulkowa, at Vienna, and at Washijigton. 

jS'ewton had declared that, as a result from his exi)eriments, separa- 
tion of white light into its constituent colors was an inevitable accom- 
jtaniment of deviation by refraction, and consequently the shortening of 
the unwieldy retractors was imi)ractical)]e. The (;orrectiH*ss of the ex- 
Iteriments remained unquestioned for nearly a century; but a famous 
(Icrnniii mathematician. Fouler, did (piestion his conclusion. His argu- 
ment was that since the eye does produce colorless images oi' white ob- 
jects it might be possible by the proper selection of cuives to so combine 
lenses of glass and of water as to jnoduce a telescope free from the color 
defect. Although JMilei-'s premise was an error, since the eye is not free 


from dispersion, his efforts liad the effect of leading- to much more crit- 
ical study of the phenomena involved. In this Jolni Dolland, an Eug- 
lish optician, met with brilliant success. Repeating an experiment of 
Kewton's with a prism of water opposed by a prism of glass he found 
that deviation of light could be produced without accompanying dis 
persion into prismatic colors. More than this, he found that the two 
varieties of glass, then as now common in England — crown or common 
window glass, and flint glass, which is characterized by the presence 
of a greater or less quantity of lead oxide — possessed very different 
powers in respect to disi>ersi(m; thus, of two prisms of these two vari- 
eties of glass which would deflect the light by the same angle, that 
made of flint glass would form a spectrum nearly twice as long as the 
other; hence, if a prism of crown glass deflecting a transmitted beam 
of light, say 10 degrees, were combined with one of flint glass which 
would deflect the beam of light 5 degrees in the opposite direction there 
would remain a deflection of 5 degrees without division into color. It 
also follows that a i)ositive lens of crown combined with a negative 
lens of flint of half the i)ower would yield a colorless image. Such 
cond)iuations of two different substances are called achromatic systems. 

It is a singular fact, wortli noting in passing, that more than twenty 
years before Dol land's success, Mr. Chester More Hall had invented 
and niade achromatic telescopes, but this remained unknown to the 
world of science until after Dolland's telescopes became tamous. 

For along time this ingenious invention remained fruitless for astro- 
nomical discovery, (though they were early api)lied to meridian instru- 
ments,) on account of the impossibility of securing sufficiently large and 
})erfect pieces of glass, more particularly of flint glass. Not until after 
the beginning of this century was any real advance in this branch of 
the arts exhibited. Even then success appeared, not in England or 
France, where most strenuous efforts had been made to im])rove the 
quality of optical glass, but in Switzerland. There a humble mechanic, 
a watchmaker named (ruinaud, spent many years in ettbrts, long un- 
fruitful, to make large pieces of optical glass. What degree of success 
he attained therc^ during twenty years of experiment we do not know, 
though from the fact that during that period good achromatic tele- 
sco])es of more than 5 inches in diameter were unknown we must con- 
clude that his success was limited. In 1805 he joined the optical 
establishment of Fraunhofer and TJtzschneiden in Munich. Here he 
ren)ained nine years, and with the increased means at his disposal, and 
the aid of Fraunhofer, he perfected his methods so far that the pro- 
duction of large disks of homogeneous glass became only a matter of 
time and cost; that is to say, all of the large pieces of optical glass 
which have since been produced, whether in Germany, France, or Eng- 
land, have been made by direct heirs of the i»i'actical secrets of this 
Swiss watchmaker. 

Fraunhofer was a genius of a liigh order. Although he die(i at the 


oarly aoo nf 39, he had not only l^ionglit the nchromatic telescope to a 
(U'jiice of ojjtical ]K'iieetioii which niade it a rival of the most ])<)werful 
of the relh'ctor ty])«', and so far improved its method of inouiitiiig', that 
his system has replaced all others; but he also made some capital dis- 
co\eries in the domain of i)hysical optics. His great achievement was 
the c(mstrnction of an achromatic telescoi)e U.G inches in diameter, 
w ith which the eldci- Srruve made at Dorpat his remarkable series of 
discoveries and measurement of donl)le stars. The character of 
Struve's woik demonstrates the excellence of the telesco])e, and shows 
ns that it is to be i-anked as the ecpial of all but the very best of its 
l>redecessors. Indeed, it may lairly l)e concluded that not more than 
one or two telescopes, and those made and used by Ilerschel, had ever 
been of .i^reater })ower, while in convenience for use the new refractor 
was vastly superior. 

For a long time Fraunhofer and his successors. Merz and Mahler, 
from whom the great telescopes of Pulkowa and of the Harvard Observ- 
atory were procured, icmained unri\ ailed in this tield of optics. But 
they have been followed In' a number of skillful constructors whose 
products have, since the middle of the century, been scattered all over 
the world. In ( Jermany, Hteinheil and Schi(>der: in France, Canchois, 
JMartin, and the lleniy brothers; in England, Cook and (iriil)!); and in 
this country the ('larks and Brashear, h-<v<' eacii jjroduced one or more 
great telescoi>es which has rendered his name tamiliar to all readers of 
astnmomical history. ( )f these the Clarks, father and son, have beyond 
a doubt won the first i)lace, whether determined by the character of 
the disco\eries made by nu'ans of their instruments or by the fact that 
the two most ])Owerful telescopes in existence were made by them, 
namely, the new refractor of .">() inches in diameter, at Pulkowa, and tlu' 
gicnt rt^ractor of.'] feet diameter, of the Lick ()l)servatory in ralifornia. 
'i'lie most uotal>le discox'ciies made witii their telescopes are the satc^l- 
lites of Mars and tiie com[)anion to Sirius; but besides these there is a 
long list of double stars of tluMuost difticult character discovered by 
the makers themselves, by Dawes, in I'^nglaud, by Ibiinham, in our 
own country, and by a nund)ei' of other observers. 

W(! ought not to terminate our review of the development of the tel- 
escope without a reference to the parallel develoi)ment of the mounting 
of great telescopes. Indeed, <lid this not lead us too far from the im- 
mediate aim in view, we might iind a. great deal of interest and Ix^ 
brought info agre<'able contact with sonu'of the cleverest nu'chanicians 
and engineers of two ceiituiies by tracing its course. A\e should 
meet with lluygluMis, ;is the inventor of the aerial telescope, and per- 
hajts consider the claims of his c(>nfeiuporar\ , K'obeit Ilook, as a rival 
inventor, for we may be sure that nothing which brings us to a study 
of that curious and able philosopher wouhl tail to possess in ter(^st. We 
should find ilerschel confrcuifed with the problem as to how he should 
use his gieat 4()-foot telescoi>e. and the study of his solution would 


guide us in valuing the results of the subsequent efforts of Lassel and 
Eosse. The same line of study would bring us to Grubb's clever and 
interesting equatorial mounting of that anachronism, the 4-foot Mel- 
bourne reflector. But we should find nothing of very notable interest 
in the mounting of refractors, after the time of Huyghens and Hook, 
until Fraunhofer invented ii type of mounting for the famous Dorpat 
equatorial, which still remains in its essential features as the type in 
universal use. With the increase in size of the telescopes to be directed 
towards the heavens, however, the number and complexity of the me- 
chanical problems to be solved has been vastly increased, so that they 
have taxed the best powers of some of the ablest mechanicians. The 
Eepsolds, of Germany, and Sir Howard Grubb, of Dublin, have specially 
distinguished themselves in this field of activity. But it seems to me 
that none have shown greater fertility of resources, greater skill in the 
solution of every problem affecting the comfort and efficacy of the ob- 
server, and greater taste, combined with accurate workmanship, than 
have the celebrated firm which has mounted the telescope at Mount 
Hamilton and that at Carleton College, 

We come now to a consideration of the present state of the art of 
lens-making. We ask why such a very large proportion of the tele- 
scopes in existence are bad; why there was a time, brief it is true, dur- 
ing which the glass-maker was certainly in advance of the demands of 
telesco])e-makers; and why, finally, the first of the great modern objec- 
tives was in the hands of the most skillful optician in Great Britain for 
seven years, and even then this maker asserted that it Avas incom])lete. 

These questions can not be answered in a word, but we can, at least, 
gain much in persjjicuity by recognizing that the reasons are of two 
distinct kinds, namely, purely technical, and theoretical; and by re- 
garding them briefly in succession. 

The art of lens-making can be certainly traced back to the 13th cen- 
tury, though the methods at a much later day than that were so rude 
that, as we have seen, Galileo had the utmost difliculty in making a 
lens good enough to bear a magnifying power of 30 times. At the 
])resent day there is little difficulty in selecting a spectacle glass which 
would rival that most famous of all telescopes. Not until after another 
generation of effort was there such notable improvement in the tech- 
niijue of lens-making that farther astronomical discovery was i)ossil)le. 
The reasons for this slow progress are to be found in the extremely 
critical requirenuMits for a good lens. A departure by a fraction of a 
hnndrcd thousandth part of an inch from a correct geometrical surface 
will greatly impair the performance of an objective. But even at this 
day the limit of accurate measurement may be set at about a one-hun- 
dred-thousandth of an inch, while it is (juite probable that ten times 
that value was vanisliingly small to the artisans of a century or more 
ago. It was necessary therefore to devise a method of polishing — 
for it is a comparatively simple matter to grind a surface accurately — 


which should keep the surface true within a liiuit far transcendiug the 
raiii.'C of measureiiieuts. Huyghens is the first who seems to liave (h»iie 
(his, by polishiiiii upon a paste which was formed to the lilass and then 
(hied, and by using only the central i)ortion of a hirge lens. In Italy 
Canspani develoi)ed a system which he most jealously guarded as a 
secret until his death, consisting of i)olishing with a dry powder on 
paper cemented to the grinding tools. This method still survives in 
i'aris to the exclusion of almost all others, and it is probably the best 
for work which does not demand the highest scientific precision, 

Newtou however was the first to introduce a method which has 
since been developed to a state of surprising delicacy. Casting about 
for a means which should be sufticiently ''tender," to use his own ex- 
]»ression, for i)olishing the soft speculum metal, he fixed upon i)itcli, 
shaped to the mirror while warm, as a bed to hold the polishing powder. 
But the enormcms value of this substance lies not so much in the com- 
l)arative immunity which it gives from scratching, but in the fact that 
under slowly changing forces it is a liquid, but under those of short 
duration it behaves like a hard and brittle solid. Thus it is possible 
to slowly alter the shape of a lens while polishiug, in any desired direc- 
tion. It was only after the ]nactical recognition of this fact that really 
excellent lenses were nuich more than a question of good fortune. The 
l)erfecting of this method belongs without doubt to the English of the 
last century and the early i)art of this. In the Philosoi)hical Transac- 
tions, we find many long papers relating to this art, contributed by 
skillful and suc<-essful anuiteurs. We may therefore regard the tech- 
i!i(pu' of the art of lens-making as practically complete at the middle of 
this century and as common property, so that success no longer de- 
pends upon the holding of some special or secret method. 

We are now (after this, I fear, somewhat dry discussion of a necessary 
])oint) in a condition to explain the differences between the processes 
pursued by most telescope niakersand that of the maker of the Carletou 
("olh'ge telescoi)e. 

This is the ordinary method: After securing perfect pieces of glass, 
crown and flint, as like as i)()ssible to those generally used, and having 
fixed upon the general shape of the lenses, a guess is made as to the 
lin>])er radii of the foui- surfaces to detennme the desired focal length 
and corrections both for color and spherical aberration. The success 
of this guess has much to <lo with the necessary outlay of labor, and 
fherei'ore ])ast expi'rience is of great value as a guide. iMter working 
tlic lour surfaces to the dimensions pro\ isionally adopted so far as to 
admit of lairly good seeing through the objective, an examination of the 
errors is made. Should the errors of color be S(> small that their final 
correction w ill not make the telesco])e more than from 3 to 10 per cent 
greater or less than the desired focal length, the crown lens will i)rob 
ably be comi)leted in accordance with the prctvisional figures. I'hen 
the Hint lens will be modified in such a tlirei^tion as will tend to correct 


the observed errors of color and lignre, until, by a purely tentative proc- 
ess, the color error is practically negligible and the error of figure is 
small. Then follows a process when the qualities of skill, conscientious- 
ness, and perseverance have full scope. This process tirst introduced, or 
at least made public by roucault, is known as local correcting. It 
consists in slowly polishing away portions of the lens surfaces so that 
errors in the focal image become so small, not that tliey can not be de- 
tected, but that one can not determine whetlier they are on the one 
side of truth or the other. Local correcting has always seemed to me 
to be eminently unscientific and unnecessary. It is a process of mak- 
ing errors small which ought not to exist. 

Mr. Brashear's method is essentially different from this. Before the 
glasses are touched every dimension and constant of the finislied 
objective is known with great accuracy. His whole aim is to make the 
surfaces geometrically perfect; and by ingenious polishing machinery, 
which embodies twelve years of his thought and experience, he is 
enabled to do this with truly astonishing exactness. All the surfaces 
which admit of investigaticm — usually three in his ordinary construc- 
tion — are made rigidly true without regard to the character of the focal 
image. This leaves only one surface which is known to l)e very nearly 
a sphere, but probably deviating slightly within in tlie direction of a 
l)rolate or oblate spheroid. A glance at the character of the focal image 
will determine this point. Then the polishing machine is adapted to 
bring about a change in the proper (lirecti<»n, and after action during a 
measured interval of time, the image is again examined, and from the 
observed change in character the necessary time for complete correc- 
tion by the same or contrary action may be deduced. It will be 
observed that by this means it is quite possible to correct errors which 
are much too small to betray their nature, since a step in the wrong 
direction carries with it no consequences of the slightest moment, since 
any step may be retraced. 

When we learn that Mr. Brashear's telescope objectives have always 
had a focal length differing only from one-tenth to one one-huudred- 
and-eightieth of 1 per cent of the value prescribed, we have a sugges- 
tion of the success of his efforts. But adding to that t\ie fact that he 
is absolutely untrammelled by purely mechanical considerations, either 
as to the shape of his lenses or the character of his materials, leaving 
these questions to be decided alone by the requirements of the astrono- 
mer, it seems to me that we may fairly accord to him the merit of the 
most important improvements introduced into his art for a very long 

I shall not venture to demand nnich of your time in considering the 
purely theoretical difficulties in telescope construction, not merely be- 
cause the subject has already taxed our patience, but because it would 
be of almost too technical a character did we allow ourselves to regard 
anything but the most general features. 


Tbe obvious r('(|uir<iii«Miis ure that in a good objective tlio li'-lit coui- 
iii_i>' from a point in tlie object sliould be concentrated at a point in tiie 
iinaji'c; but tliis, combined with a prescribed focal ]cn,ntli, may 1)6 re- 
duced to tliree coiulitions: First, a lixed focal length; second, freedom 
fr(tm color error; third, freedom iVom splierical alxn-ration for a partic- 
ular color or wave lengtli of light. Now let us catalogue what provi- 
sions we have for satisfying these conditions. They are, four surfaces, 
wliieh uuist be spherical but may have any radii we please, the two 
thicknesses of the two lenses, and the distance Avhicli se])arates the 
lenses — tluit is, seven elements which may be varied to suit our require- 
ments. As a matter of fact, however, on acconnt of the cost of the 
material and the fact that glass is perfectly transparent, for powerful 
telescopes we must make the lenses as thin as possible; and we shall 
tind also that separating the lenses introduces errfU's away from the 
axis which are, to say the least, undesirable. We have left, therefore, 
only the four radii as arbitrary constants. These, however, are more 
than enough to meet the three requirements. To make the problem 
determinate we uuist add another condition. The suggestion of this 
fourth condition and carrying- the ]>rol)lem to its solution is the work 
of the great mathematicians who have directed their thought to it. 
Clairault i)roposed to make the fourth condition that the two adjacent 
surfaces should tit together and the lenses be cemented. This condition 
would be, doubtless, of great value were it i)Ossible to cement large lenses 
without changing their shapes to a degree which would quite spoil their 
performance. ^Sir John llerschel published a very important i)aper in 
1S21, in wliich he made the fourth condition that thesi»herical aberiation 
should vanish, not only for objects at a very great distance, but also for 
those at a moderate distance. In this ]»aper he computed a table, after- 
wards greatly extended by Prof. IJaden Powell, for the a\'owed i)urpose 
of aiding- the practical optician. It was tiiis feature undoubtedly which 
brought his construction, not at all a good one as we shall see, into 
more general use than any other for some time. But, as all nerschefs 
tables were deiived from calculations whicli wholly disregarded the 
tidckness of the lenses, I am (pute unable to see how they could have 
been <»f any nmterial aid, and am inclined to suspect that the discredit 
with which oi»ticians have received the dicta of mathematicians con- 
cerning their instruments may have been due in part to this very fact. 
It is a singular fact, for which 1 have in vain sought the explanation, 
that r'raunhofer's objccti\es ar(^ of Just such a torm as to comply witii 
the lleischelian solution, although they must have been made (piite 

(lauss made th<'f(»urth condition that another color or wave length 
of light should be also free from s])herical aberration. This seems to 
have been a tour deforce as a mathematician, not as a sober suggestion 
of an improvement in ccuistiuction, for in a ])oint of fact the construc- 
tion is very bad. It was generally believed that this con«lition could 


iioL be fultilled; tlierefore Gauss, who was particularly fond of doing 
wliat all the rest of the world believed imx^ossible, straightway did it. 
There has been only one eltbrt to carry out this suggestion of Gauss, 
and that forty years later by Steinheil, but it proved a disappointment. 
A much larger objective made by (31ark a few years ago, of the general 
form of Gauss's objective, probably does not meet the Gaussian condi- 
tion, — at least this condition is extremely critical, and I believe it is not 
asserted tliat the objective was ever thoroughly investigated. It has 
been the father of no others. 

It is hardly surprising, since none of these forms have any real merit, 
that the practical optician has, following the line of least resistance, 
adopted a form which costs him less labor than those heretofore men- 
tioned and is quite as good. V>y making tlie curve equi-;'onvex the 
trouble and expense of making one pair of tools is saved, although this 
would hardly appear a satisfactory i-eason for choice of a particuhir 
form to the astronomer, who simply demands tlie best possible instru- 
ment of research. 

The reason for so much futile work on the theory of the telescope 
objective is not far to seek. It had always been tacitly assumed that 
the condition of color correction, one of those which serves to determine 
the values of the arbitrary constants, was readily determinable — in 
fact, one of the doniie of the problem, wliereas it is just this datum 
which has offered peculiar difficulties. Fraunhofer brought all the re- 
sources at the command of his genius to bear upou this point, and frankly 
failed, although in the effort he made a splendid discovery, which has 
assured a permanence to his fame no less than that of the history of 
science itself — the discovery of the dark, or Fraunhofer, lines iu solar 
and stellar spectra. Gauss i)roposed the condition that the best objec- 
tive is that which produces the most perfect concentration of light about 
the place of the geometrical image of a point, just as the best rilie 
practice is that which produces the niaxinuim concentration of hits 
about the center of tlie target. That this is a false guide appears at once 
from the consideration that if we take even as much as 10 per cent of 
the light from an object and diverted from the image so far that it can 
not be found, tlie telescope may still bo practically perfect; all of Her- 
schel's did much worse than this. But if you take that same 10 jjer 
cent and concentrate it very close about the image, the telescope will 
be absolutely worthless. 

The true difficulty with most of the theorists is this: There is no 
recognition of the relative weight or importance of unavoidable errors. 
The optician is <'onfronted at the very outset by the fact that absolute 
elimination of color error is impossible, for certain physical reasons 
which we have not time for considering farther. He can reduce the 
color error of the old single-lens type of telescopes hundreds of times, 
and hence the length of the telesco]>e tens of times. It is tliis fact 
which prevents the still farther sliortening of telescoiies, which keeps 


the ratio of length to (liaiiu'tcr not less than tiftecn to one in large tele 
scopes. This restriction being recognized, let us re\ ise our limiting coir 
ditions. They now become, first, lixed fo(;al length; second, l»est color 
<'orrection; third, freedom from spherical aberration for a paiticular 
wave-length of light. We therefore have still one arbitrary constant 
undetermined. How shall we tix its value, and thus solve tiie problem 
comi^letely ? Surely there is only one rational guide. Consider the 
residual errors and make the fourth condition such as to reduce these 
errors as far as possible. Xow the only remaining errors are secondary 
color error and spherical aberration for colors other than that for which 
it is eliminated, or more scientitically, chromatic difference of spherical 
aberration. Which of these is the gravest defects Our answer must 
de|)end upon the use to which the ol)jective is to be put. If it is a 
high-power microsco[)e objective, it is certainly the second. If it is an 
objective to be used for photographing at considerable angular dis- 
tances from the axis, our ({uestion loses its ])hysical significance, since 
we ha\ e excluded the consideration of eccentric refraction. But if the 
ol)jective is to be for a visual telescope, there is no ([uestion that the 
defect of secondary color error is incomparably the most serious. Our 
fourth and determining condition must, therefore, be better color cor- 

These are therefore the consideraf ions whicli have served as guides 
in the construction of the Carleton College objective. First, the selec- 
tion of the materials which, in the present condition of the art of opti- 
cal glass making, possess in the highest degree the desired physical 
l)roperties; second, a general discussion of every possible combination 
of these two pieces of glass and a selection of the forms whi(;h yield 
the best at tainable results. This conscientious strife after scientihc 
perfection, the unexcelled skill with which the results of analysis have 
been interpreted into the reality of substance, the gratifying identity 
of pre<licted and realized values of ]>hysical characteristics — all of these 
have led some of those v. ho have watched the growth of this new in- 
sti'ument of research with the most solicitous attention to the belief 
that although not tin' most powerful in existence it nu»y well be the 
m(»st jx'rfcct great telescope yet made. Let us thcretbre (congratulate 
the possessors of this m)ble instrument, wish them (iod s])eed in their 
search after knowledge, wliile we remiml them that although no as- 
tronomer can ever n»ake another discovery which will rival that made 
by the insignificant tube lirst directed toward the heasens by the 
i'aduan philosophei', yet no mind can weigh the imj)ortance of any 
truth, liowever trivial in ap])earance, which may be added to that store 
whicli we call "science."' 


By Sir Akciubald Geikie, 
Director-General of the Geolofiical ^Si(rrci/ of Great Britain. 

Ill its bciieficent projiress tlirougii these islands tlie British Asso- 
ciation Tor the Advancement of Science now for the fourth time receives 
a welcome in this ancient capital. Once again, under the shadow of 
these anti(pie towers, crowded memories of a romantic past till our 
thoughts. The stormy annals of Scotland seem to move in possession 
before our eyes as we walk these streets, whose names and traditions 
ha\e been made iamiliar to the civilized world by the genius of litera- 
ture. At every tuin, too, we aie reminded, by the mouuments which 
a grateful city has erected, that for numy generations the pursuits 
which we are now assembled to foster have had here their congenial 
home. Literature, philosojthy, science, have each in turn been guided 
by the influence of the great masters who have lived here, and wliose 
renown is the brightest gem in the chaplet around the brow of this 
Queen of the North. 

Lingering for a moment over these local associations, we shall find a 
jieculiar api)ropriateness in the time of this renewed visit of the Asso- 
ciation to l<](linl»urgh. A hundred years ago a renuirkable grouj) of 
men was discaissing here the great problem of the history of the earth. 
James Hutton, after nmny years of travel and reflection, had com 
numicated to the Koyal Society of this city, in the year 1785, the first 
outlines of his fannuis Theoiy of the Earth. Among those with whom 
he took counsel in the elaboration of his doctrines were Black, the 
illustrious discoverer of fixed air and latent heat; Clerk, the sagac- 
ious inventor oi' the system of l)reaking the enemy's line in naAal tac- 
tics; Hall, whose fertile ingenuity de\ised the first system of exi)eri- 
ments in illustralion of the structure and origin of rocks; and IMayfair, 
Ihi'ough whose sympathetic enthusiasm and literary skill Hut Ion's 
\ lews cauK^ ultimately to be understood and a[)preciated by the world 
at large. With these friends, so well able to comprehend and criticise 
his eliorts to pierce the veil that shrouded the history of this globe, he 

* Presidential Address before tlie liritisli Associatiou for the Advaueemcnt of 
Scieuce; at EdiuburgL, xVugiist o, 18y2. {Report Brit. Assoc. A. 6'. 1S91', vol. lxii, 
PI.. 3-L'G.; 



paced the stieettj amid which Ave are now gathered together; with them 
he sought the crags and ravines around us, wherein Kature has hiid 
open so many impressive records of her past; with tliem he sallied 
forth on those memorable expeditions to distant parts of Scotland, 
whence he returned laden with treasures from a field of observation 
Avliich, though now so familiar, was then ahnost untrodden. The cen- 
tenary of llutton's Theory of the Earth is an event in tlic annals of 
science which seems most fittingly celebrated by a meeting of the 
British Association in Edinburgh. 

In choosing from among the many subjects which might properly 
engage your attention on the present occasion, I have thought that it 
would not be inappropriate nor uninteresting to consider the more 
salient features of that Theory, and to mark how much in certain 
departments of inquiry has sx)rung from the fruitful teaching of its 
autlior and his associates. 

It was a fundamental doctrine of Ilutton and his school that this 
globe has not always worn the aspect which it bears at present; that 
on the contrary, proofs may everywhere be culled that the land which 
we now see has been formed out of the wrecli of an older land. Among 
these proofs, the most obvious are supplied by some of the more 
familiar kinds of rocks, which teach us that, though they are now por- 
tions of the dry land, they were originally sheets of gravel, sand, and 
mud, which had been worn from the face of long- vanished continents, 
and after being spread out over the floor of the sea were consolidated 
into compact stone, and were finally broken up and raised once more 
to form part of the dry land. This cycle of change involved two great 
systems of natural processes. On the one hand, men were taught that 
by the action of running water tlie materials of the solid land are in a 
state of continual decay and trans])ort to the ocean. On the other 
hand, the ocean floor is liable from time to time to be upheaved by 
some stupendous internal force akin to that Avhich gives rise to the 
volcano and the earthquake. Ilutton further perceived that not only 
had the consolidated materials been disrupted and elevated, but that 
masses of molten rock had been thrust upward among them, and had 
cooled and crystallized in large bodies of granite and other eruptive 
rocks which form so prominent a feature on the earth's surface. 

It was a special 'characteristic of this philosophical system that it 
sought in the changes now in progress on the earth's surface an ex- 
planation of those which occurred in older times. Its founder refused 
to invent causes or modes of oi)eration, for those with which he was 
familiar seemed to him adeipiate to solve the i)roblems with whicli he 
attemi)ted to deal. Xowhere was the profoundness of his insight more 
astonishing than in the clear, definite way in wliich he i)roclaimed and 
reiterated his doctrine, that every part of the surface of the continents, 
from mountain top to seashore, is continually undergoing decay, and is 
thus slowly travelling to the sea. Ue saw that no sooner will the «ea 


floor be elevated into new land than it must necessarily become a prey 
t<» this universal and unceasing' de.uradati()n. He perceived that as the 
transport of disintegrated material is carried on chiefly by runninu' 
water, rivers must slowly dig out for themselves the channels in which 
they How, and thus that a system of valleys, radiating from the water 
l)arting of a country, must necessarily result from the descent of the 
streams from the mouutaiu crests to the sea. lie discerned that this 
ceaseless and wide-spread decay would eventually lead to the entire 
demolition of the dry land, but he contended that from time to time 
this catastrophe is prevented by the operation of the under-ground 
forces, whereby new continents are upheaved from the bed of the ocean. 
And thus in his system a due proportion is maintained between laud 
and water, and the condition of the earth as a habitable globe is pre- 

A theory of the earth so simple in outline, so bold in conception, so 
full of suggestion, and resting on so broad a base of obser\ation and 
retlectiou, ought (we might think) to have commanded at once the atten- 
tion of men of science, even if it did not immediately awaken the inter- 
est of the outside world; but, as Playfair sorrowfully admitted, it 
attracted u_otice only very slowly, and several years elapsed before any 
one sliowed himself publicly concerned about it, either as an enemy or 
a friend. Some of its earliest critics assailed it for what they asserted 
to be its iireligious tendency, — an accusation which Hutton repudiated 
with niucli warmth. The sneer levelled by Cowper a few years earlier 
at all in(|uiries into the history of the universe was perfectly natural 
and intelligible from that poet's point of view. There Avas then a wide- 
spread belief that this world came into existence some six thousand 
years ago, and that any attempt greatly to inci'ease that antiquity was 
meant as a blow to the authority of Holy Writ. So far however from 
aiming at the overthrow of orthodox beliefs, Hutton evidently regarded 
liis "Theory" as an important contribution in aid of natural religion. 
He dwelt with unfeigned pleasure on the multitude of proofs which he 
was able to accumulate of an orderly design in the operations of nature, 
decay and renovation being so nicely balanced as to maintain the hab- 
itable^ condition of the planet. But as he refused to admit the pre- 
dominance of violent a(;tion in terrestrial changes, ami on the contrary 
contended for the etiicacy of the (piict, continuous processes which we 
can even now see at work around us, lie was constrained to require an 
uidimitcd duration of ])ast time for the production of those revolutions 
ot which he i)erceived such clear and abundant i)roofs in the crust of 
the earth. The general i)ul)lic, howcvei'. failed to comprehend that the 
doctrine of the high anti({uity of the glol)e was not inconsistent with 
the conq)arative]y recent ai)pearance of man, — a distinction which seems 
so obvious now. 

Hutton died in 171>7, beloved and regTetted by the circle of friends 
who had learned to ai»i)reciate his estimable character and to admire his 
H. Mis. 114 8 


genius, but with little recognition from the world at large. Men knew 
not then that a great master had passed away from their midst, who 
liad laid broad and dee^) the foundations of anew science; that his 
name would become a household word in after generations, and that 
])ilgrims would come from distant lands to visit the scenes from which 
he drew his inspiration. 

Many years might have elapsed before Ilutton's teaching met with 
wide acceptance, had its recognition dei)ended solely on the writings of 
the philosopher himself. For, despite his linn grasp of general prin- 
ciples and his mastery of the minutest details, he had acquired a liter- 
ary style which, it must be admitted, was singularly unattractive. 
Fortunately for his fame, as well as for the cause of science, his devoted 
friend and disciple, Playfair, at once set himself to draw up an exposi- 
tion of Ilutton's views. After five years of labor on this task there 
appeared the classic " Illnstratious of the lluttonian Theory," a work 
which for luminous treatment and graceful diction stands still without 
a rival in English geological literature. Though professing merely to 
set forth his friend's doctrines, Playfair's treatise was in many respects 
an original contribution to science of the highest value. It placed for 
the first time in the clearest light the whole philosophy of Hutton regard- 
ing the history of the earth, and enforced it with a wealth of reasoning 
and copiousness of illustration which obtained for it a wide apprecia- 
ation. From long converse with Hutton, and from profound reflection 
himself, Playfair gained such a comprehension of the whole subject, 
that discarding the non-essential parts of his master's teaching, he was 
able to give so lucid and accurate an exposition of the general scheme 
of Nature's operations on the surface of the globe, that with only slight 
corrections andexi)ansions his treatise may serve as a text-book to-day. 
In some respects, indeed, his volume was long in advance of its time. 
Only, for example, within the present generation has the truth of his 
teaching in regard to the origin of valleys been generally admitted. 

Various causes contributed to retard tlie progress of the Huttonian 
doctrines. Especially potent was the influence of the teaching of Wer- 
ner, who, thimgh he perceived that a definite <n-der of sequence could 
be recognized among the materials of the earth's crust, had formed 
singularly narrow conceptions of the great processes whereby that 
crust has been built up. His enthusiam, however, fired his disciples 
with the zeal of proselytes, and they spread themselves over Europe to 
preach every where the artificial system w^hichthey had learned in Sax 
ony. By a curiousfate PMinburgh became one of the great headquarters 
of Wernerism. The friends and followers of Hutton found themselves 
attacked in their own city by zealots, who i)roud of superior minera- 
logical ac(purements, turned their most cherished ideas upside down 
and assailed them in the uncouth jargon of Freiberg. Inasmuch as 
subterranean heat had been invoked by Hutton as a force largely in- 
strumental in consolidating and upheaving the ancient sediments that 


now lonii so L;i(';it a pait oltlic <lr> land, liis I'ollowci's "vnc nickiiauRHl 
riiitoiiists. On the other liainl, as tlic a.u('ii(*\()f Avatcv was almost 
alone admitted by Werner, wlio belie\e(l tlie rocks oftlie eaitli's crust 
to liave been cUietly chemical precii)itates from a primeval universal 
ocean, those who adopted bis views received the equally descriptive 
name of ]Sre])tunists. The battle of these two contendinii- schools raged 
liercely here for some years, and tliougb mainly from the youth, zeal, 
and energy of Jameson, and the intluence which his position as ])ro- 
fessor in the university gave him, the Wernerian doctrines continued 
to hold their ])la('e they were eventually abandoned even l)y flanu'son 
himself, and the debt due to the memory of Ifntton and Playfair was 
tardilv acknowledged. 

The })ursuits and the (juarrels of philosphcrs have from early times 
been a favorite subject of merriment to the outside world. Sucli a feud 
as that between the Plutonists and Xeptuuists would be sure to furnish 
abundant matter for the gratification of this propensity. Turning over 
the ])ages of Kay's "Portraits," where so much that was distinctive of 
Edinburgh society a. hundred years ago is embalmed, we find Hutton's 
personal iieculiaritiesand jtursuits touched off in good-humored carica- 
ture. In one plate he stands with arms folded and hammer in hand, 
meditating on the face of a clifi', from which rocky prominences in 
shape of human faces, perhaps grotes(pie likeiu'sses of his scientific 
o[)ponents, grin at him. In another engraving he sits in conchue with 
his friend Black, possibly arranging for that famous banquet of garden 
snails which the two worthies had persuaded themselves to look upon 
as a strangely neglected form of liuraan food. More than a generation 
later, when the lluttonists and Wernerists weie at the height of their 
antagonism, the humorous side of the controversy did not escape the 
notice of the author of ''AVaverley,'' who, you will remember, when he 
makes Meg Dods recount the various kinds of wise folk brought by 
Lady Peneloi)e Pennfeather from Edinburgh to St. Konan's Well, does 
not f(»rget to include those who "rin upliill and down dale, knapping 
the chucky-stanes to pieces wi' hammers (like sae mony road-makers 
run dalt), to see how the \varld was mad*'." 

Among the names of the friends and followers of Hutton there is one 
wlMcli on this occasion deserves to be hehl in especial Inmor, that of 
Sir .James Ilall, of Dunglass. Having acconq»aiiied Hutton in some 
of his excursions, and having discussed w ith him the i>i()l)]ems pre- 
sented l)y the rocks of S(M»tland, Hall was fanuliar with the views of 
iiis master, and was able to sui)ply him with fresh illustrations of them 
from dirterent parts of the country. (Jifted with remarkable originality 
and ingenuity, he soon ])erceived that some of the questions involved 
in the theory of the earth could probably be solved by direct physical 
experiment. Hutt<Mi however mistrusted any attempt "to ju<lge of 
tiie great operations of nature by merely kindling a tii-e aiul looking 
into the bottom of a little crucible." Out of deference to this preju- 


dice Hall deliiyed to carry out his intention during Button's lifetime. 
But afterwards lie instituted a remarkable series of researches which 
are memorable in the history of science as the first methodical endeavor 
to test the value of geological speculation by an appeal to actual ex- 
periment. The Neptuuists, in ridiculing the Huttonian doctrine that 
basalt and similar rocks had once been molten, asserted that, had such 
been their origin, these nuisses would now be found in the condition of 
glass or slag. Hall however triumphantly vindicated his friend's \\e\v 
by proving that basalt could be fused, and thereafter by slow cooling- 
could be made to resume a stony texture. Again, Hutton had asserted 
that under the vast pressures which must be effective deep within the 
earth's <*rust, chemical reactions must be powerfully influenced, and 
that under such conditions even liniestoue may conceivably be melted 
without losing its carbonic acid. Various siiecious arguments had 
been adduced against this proposition, but by an ingeniously devised 
series of experiments Hall succeeded in converting limestone under 
great pressure into a kind of marble, and even fused it, and found that 
it then acted vigorously on other rocks. These admirable researches, 
which laid the foundations of experimental geology, constitute not the 
least memorable of the services rendered by the Huttonian school to 
the progress of science. 

Clear as was the insight and sagacious the inferences of these great 
masters in regard to the history of the globe, their vision was neces- 
sarily limited by the comparatively narrow range of ascertained fact 
which up to their time had been established. They taught men to 
recognize that the present world is built of the ruins of an earlier one, 
and they explained with admirable perspicacity the operation of the 
processes whereby the degradation and renovation of land are brought 
about. But they never dreamed that a long and orderly series of such 
successive destructions and renewals had taken place and had left 
their records in the crust of the earth. They never imagined that from 
these records it would be possible to establish a determinate chro- 
nology that could be read everywhere and ap'iilied to the elucidati<m 
of the remotest quarter of the globe. It was by the memorable obser- 
vations and generalizations of William Smith that this vast extension 
of our knowledge of the past liistory of the earth became possible. 
While the Scottish philosophers were building up their theory here, 
Smith was (juietly ascertaining by extended journeys that the stratified 
rocks of the west of England occur in a definite sequence, and that 
each well-marked group of them can be discriminated from the others 
and identified across the country by means of its inclosed organic 
remains. It is nearly a hundred years since he made known his views, 
so that by a curious coincidence we may fitly celel)rate on this occasion 
the centenary of William Smith as well as that of James Hutton. No 
single discovery has ever had a more momentous and far reaching in 
llueuce on the progress of a science tliaii that law of organic succession 


which Smith established. At tirst it served merely to determine the 
order of the stratified rocks of England. I>ut it soon proved to possess 
ji worldwide value, for it was found to furnish the key to the struc- 
ture of the whole stratitied crust of the earth. It showed that within 
that crust lie the chronicles of a. long- history of i)Iant and animal life 
upon this }>lanet, it sui)i)lied the means of arraugiiij^- the materials for 
this history in true chronological sequence, and it thus oi)eued out a 
mag'niticent vista through a vast series of ages, each marked l)y its 
own distinctive types of organic life, which, in in-oportion to their an 
tiqnity, dei)arted more and more from the aspect of the living world. 

Thns a liuudred years ago, by the brilliant theory of Hutton and tlie 
fruitful generalization of Smith, tlie study of the earth rccei\"cd in our 
country the impetus which has given birth to tlie modern science of 

To review the marvellous progress which this science has made dur- 
ing the first century of its existence would recpiire not one, but many, 
hours tor adeiiuate treatment. The march of discovery has advanced 
along a multitude of different ]>aths, and tin? domains of nature which 
have been included within the growing territories of human knowledge 
have been many and ample. Nevertheless, there are certain depart- 
ments of investigation to which we may protitably restrict our atten- 
tion on the present occasion, and wherein we may see how the leading 
}>rinciples that were proclaimed in this city a hundred years ago ha\ e 
germinated and borne fruit all oxer the world. 

From the earliest times the natural features of the earth's surface 
have arrested the attention of mankind. The rugged mountain, the 
cleft ravine, the scarped cliff, the solitary bowlder, have stimulate«l 
curiosity and prom]ited many a speculation as to their origin. The 
shells embedded by millions in the solid rocks of hills far remo\ed frou! 
the seas have still further pressed home these "obstinate questionings." 
Hut for many long centuries the advance of inquiry into such matters 
was arrested by the paramount intluence of orthodox theology. It was 
not merely that the church opi)ose<l itself to the simple and obvious in- 
terpretation of these natural |>henomena. So inq)licit had faith l)ecome 
in the accepted views of tiie earth's age. and of the history of creation, 
that even laymen of intellig<'n<'e and learning set themsehes unbidden 
and in perfect good faitli to exi>lain away the difliculties which nature 
so persistently raised up, and to reconcile her teachings with those of 
the tlieologians. In the various theories thus originating, tlie amount 
of knowledge of natural law usually stood in inverse ra,ti(t to the share 
l)hiyed in them by an uncontrolled imagination. The speculations, for 
exanq)le, of Ibirnet, Whiston, Whitehurst, and others in this country, 
cau not be read now without a smile. Jn no sense were they scuentiflc 
researches; tliey can only be looked upon as exercitations of learned 
ignorance. Springing mainly out of a laudable desire to i)r(unote what 
was belie\'ed to be the cause of true religion, they heli)ed to retard 


inquiry, and exercised in that respect a baneful influence on intellectual 

It is the special glory of the Edinburgh school of geology to have 
cast aside all this fanciful trifling. Huttou boldly proclaimed that it 
was no ])art of his philosophy to account for the beginning of things. 
His concern lay only with the evidence furnished by the earth itself as 
to its origin. With the intuition of true genius he early jjerceived that 
the only solid basis from which to exj)lore what has taken place in 
bygone time is a kno^^ ledge of what is taking place to-day. He thus 
founded his system upon a careful study of the processes whereby geo- 
logical changes are now brought about. He felt assured that Nature 
must be consistent and uniform in her working, and that only in pro- 
portion as her operations at the present time are watched and under- 
stood will tlie ancient history of the earth become intelligible. Thus, 
in his hands, the investigation of the Present became the key to the 
interpretation of tlie Past. The establislnnent of this great truth was 
the first step towards the inauguration of a true science of the earth. 
The doctrine of the uniformity of causation in Nature became the 
fruitful principle on which the structure of modern geology could be 
built up. 

Fresh life was now breathed into the study of the earth. A new 
spirit seemed to animate the advance along every i^athway of inquiry. 
Facts that had long been familiar came to possess a wider and deeper 
meaning when their connection with each other was recognized as parts 
of one great harmonious system of continuous change. In no depart- 
ment of Nature, for exam})le, was this broader vision more remarkably 
displayed than in that wherein the circulation of water between land 
and sea plays the most conspicuous part. From the earliest times men 
had watched the coming of clouds, the fall of rain, the flow of rivers, 
and had recognized tliat on this nicely adjusted machinery the beiiuty 
and fertility of the land depend. But they now learned that this 
beauty and fertility involve a continual decay of the terrestrial surface; 
that the soil is a ]neasure of this decay, and would cease to afford us 
maintenance were it not continually removed and renewed; that 
through the ceaseless transi^ort of soil by rivers to the sea the face of 
the land is slowly lowered in level and carved into mountain and valley, 
and that the materials thus borne outwards to the floor of the ocean 
are not lost, but accumulate there to form rocks, which in the end vcill 
be upraised into new lands. Decay and renovation, in well-balanced 
proportions, were thus sliown to be the system on which the existence 
of the earth as a habitable globe had been established. It was impos- 
sible to conceive that the economy of the planet couUl be maintained 
on any other basis. Without the circulation of water the life of plants 
and animals would be impossible, and with that circulation the decay 
of the surface of the land and the renovation of its disintegrated mate- 
rials are necessarily involved. 


As it is now, so must it have been in jtast time. Hntton and Play- 
fair pointed to the stratified roclis of tlie eartlTs crust as demonstra- 
tions that the same ])rocesses wliicli are at work to-day have been in 
oi)eration from a remote antiquity. By thus phicing tlieir theory on a 
basis of actual observation, and providing in the study of existing 
oj^erations a guide to tlie interi)retation of those in past times, they 
rescued the investigation of the history of the eaith from the specula- 
tions of theologians and cosmologists, and establislied a place for it 
among the recoginzed inductive sciences. To the guiding influence of 
their i»hilosophical system the i)rodigious strides made by modern 
geology are in large nu^asure to be attributed. And here in their own 
city, after the lai)se of a hundred years, let us oj'fcr to tlu'ir memory 
the grateful homage of all who have ]trotited by tlieir labors. 

But while we recogidze with admiration the far-rcacliing intluenceof 
the doctrine of uniformity of causation in the investigation of the his- 
tory of the earth, we must upon reflection admit that tlw doctrine has 
been pushed to an extreme jterhaps not contemi»lated by its original 
founders. To take the existing conditions of Nature as a platform of 
actual knowledge from which to start in, an inquiry into former condi- 
tions was logical and prudent. Obviously, however, human experience, 
in the few centuries during which attention has been turned to such 
subjects, lias been too brief to warrant any dogmatic assumption that 
the various natural processes must have been carried on in the past 
with the sanu' energy and at the same rate as they are carried on now. 
Variations in energy might have been legitimately conceded as possi- 
ble, though not to be allowed without reasonable proof in their favor. 
It was right to refuse to admit the operation of s])eculative causes of 
change when the phenomena were ca]»able ol" natural and adequate 
explanation by reference to causes that can be watched and investi- 
gated. But it was an eri-or to take for granted that no other kind of 
process or intiiu'ni-e, nor any vaiiation in therateof activity save those 
of which man has had actual cognizance, has j)layed a part in the ter- 
restrial economy. The uniformitarian writers laid themselves open to 
the charge of maintaining a kind of perjx'tual motion in the machinery 
of Nature. Tiiey could iind in the records of the earth's history no 
evidence of a beginidng. no prospect of an end. They saw that many 
successive renovations and <lestructions had been efle<'ted on the 
earth's surface, and that this long line of vicissitudes ibrmed a series 
of which the earliest were lost in anti(]uity, while the latest were stdl 
in ])rogress towards an apjuirently illimitable future. 

The (discoveries of WiUiam Smith, had they been adequately under- 
stood, would hav(^ been seen to olfer a corrective to this rigidly uni- 
formitarian conception, for they revealed that the crust of the earth 
contains the long record of an unmistakable older of progression in 
organic types. They provc<l that ])hints and animals have varied 
widely in successive periods ol" the earth's history: the in-eseut con- 


ditiou of organic' life beiug- only tlie latest phase of a long jjrecediug 
series, each stage of which recedes further from the existing- aspect of 
things as we trace it backward into the past. And though no relic 
had yet been found, or indeed was ever likely to be found, of the first 
living things that appeared ujion the earth's surface, the manifest sim- 
l)lification of types in the older formations pointed irresistibly to some 
beginning from which the long procession has taken its start. If then 
it could thus be demonstrated that there had been upon the globe an 
orderly march of living forms from the lowliest grades in early times 
to man himself to-day, and thus that in one department of her domain, 
extending through the greater portion of the records of the earth's his- 
tory, Nature had not been uniform, but had folh^wed a vast and noble 
plan of evolution, surely it might have been expected that those who 
discovered and made known this plan would seek to ascertain whether 
some analogous physical progression from a definite beginning might 
not be discernible in the framework of the globe itself 

But the early masters of the science labored under two great disad- 
vantages. In the first place, they found the oldest records of the earth's 
history so brokeu up and eftaced as to be no longer legible. And in 
the second place, they lived under the spell of that strong reaction 
against speculation which followed the bitter controversy between the 
Neptunists and Plutonists in the earlier decades of the century. They 
considered themselves bound to search for facts, not to build up theories; 
and as in the crust of the earth they could find no facts which threw 
any light upon the i>rimeval constitution and subsequent develoi^ment 
of our planet, they shut their ears to any theoretical interpretations 
that might be ottered from other departments of science. It was 
enough for them to maintain, as Ilutton had done, that in the visible 
structure of the earth itself no trace can be found of the beginning of 
things, and that the oldest terrestrial records reveal no physical con- 
ditions essentially different frcmi those in which we still live. They 
doubtless listened with interest to the speculations of Kant, Laplace, 
and Herschel on the probable evolution of nebuhie, suns, and ])lanets, 
but it was with the languid interest attaching to ideas that lay outside 
of their own domain of research. They recognized no i)ractical con- 
nection between such speculations and the data furnished by the earth 
itself as to its own history and i)rogress. 

This curicms lethargy with respect to theory on the part of men who 
were popularly regarded as among the most speculative followers of 
science would ])i()bably not have been speedily disi)elled by any dis- 
covery made within their own field of observation. Even now, after 
many years of the most diligent r<'search, the first chai)ters of our 
])lanet's history remain undiscovered or undecipherable. On the great 
terrestrial palim])sest the earliest inscriptions seem to have been hope- 
lessly effaced by those of later ages. But the question of the prim- 



eval condition and subsequent histoiy of the planet might be consid- 
ered from tlie side of astronomy and physics. And it was by investi- 
gations of this nature that the geological torpor was ev-entually dissi- 
]iated. To our illustrious former president, Lord Kelvin, who occupied 
this chair when the association last met in Edinburgh, is mainly due 
the rousing of attention to this subject. l>y the most convincing argu- 
ments he showed how impossible it was to believe in the extreme doc- 
trine of uniformitarianism. And though, owing to uncertainty in re- 
gard to some of the data, wide limits of time were postulated by him, 
he insisted that within these limits the whole evolution of the earth 
and its inhabitants must have been comi)rised. While therefore the 
geological doctrine that the present order of Nature must be our guide 
to the interpretation of the past reumined as true and fruitful as ever, 
it had now to be widened by the reception of evidence furnished by a 
study of the earth as a planetary body. The secular loss of heat, 
which demonstrably takes place both fiom the earth and the sun, made 
it quite certain that the present could not have been the original con- 
dition of the system. This diminution of temperature with all its con- 
sequences is not a mere matter of si)eeulation, but a physical fact of 
the present time as much as any of the familiar physical agencies 
that affect the surface of the globe. It points with unmistakable di- 
rectness to that beginning of things of which Hutton and his followers 
could lind no sign. 

Another modification or enlargement of the uniformitarian doctrine 
was lirought about by continued investigation of the tei'restrial crust and 
consequent increase of knowledge respecting the history of the earth. 
Though llutton and Playfair believed in periodical catastropiies, and 
indeed re(]uired these to recur in order to renew and preserve the habit- 
able condition of our planet, their successors gradually came to view 
with rei)ngnauee any appeal to abnormal, and especially to violent 
manifestations of terrestrial vigor, and even persuaded themselves that 
such slow and comparatively feeble action as had been witnessed by 
man could iil(»ne be recognized in the evidence from which geological 
history must be eomi)iled. Well do 1 remember in my own boyhood 
what a cardinal article of faith this pi-epossessiou had become. \\c 
were taught by our great and honored master, Lyt^ll, to believe im- 
plicitly in gentle and unilbrm operations, extended over indetlnite 
[)eriods of time, though i)ossil»ly some, with the zeal of i)ar(isans, car- 
ried this belief to an extreme which Lyell himself did not ai)prove. 
The most stu])end(ms marks of tm'restrial dislurbance, siu-li as the 
structure of great mountain chains, were deemed to be more sjitisfac- 
torily accounted for by slow movements prolonged through indefinite 
ages than by any sudden convulsion. 

What the more extreme members of the uniformitarian school failed 
to ])erceive was the absence of all evidence that terrestrial catastrophes 
even on a colossal scale might not be a part of the present economy of 


this globe. Such occurrences might never seriously affect the whole 
earth at one time, and might return at such wide intervals that no ex- 
ample of them has yet been chronicled by man. But that they have 
occurred again and again, and even within comparatively recent geologi- 
cal times, hardly admits of serious doubt. How far at different epochs 
and in various degrees they may have included the operation of cosmi- 
cal influences lying wholly outside the planet, and how far they have re- 
sulted from movements within the bod}' of the planet itself, nuist remain 
for further inquiry. Yet the admission that they have played a part in 
geological history may be freely made without imi)airii]g the real value 
of the Huttonian doctrine, that in the interpretation of this history our 
main guide must be a knowledge of the existing processes of terrestrial 

As the most recent and best known of these great transformations, the 
Ice Age stands out conspicuously before us. If any one sixty years ago 
had ventured to affirm that at no very distant date the snows and 
ghiciers of the Arctic regions stretched southwards into France, he 
would have been treated as a mere visionary theorist. Many of the 
fiicts to which he would have api)ealedin supi)ortof his statement were 
already well known, but they had received various other interpretations. 
By some observers, notably by Hutton's fi'iend, Sir James Hall, they 
were believed to be due to violent debacles of water that swept over the 
face of the land. By others they were attributed to the strong tides 
and currents of the sea when the land stood at a lower level. The uni- 
formitarian school of Lyell had no difficulty in elevating or depressing- 
land to any required extent. Indeed, when we consider how averse 
these philosophers were to admit any kind or degree of natural opera- 
tion other thiui those of which there was some human experience, we 
may well wonder at the boldness with which, on sometimes the slender- 
est evidence, they made land and sea change places, on the one hand 
submerging mountain ranges and on the other placing great barriers of 
land where a deep ocean rolls. They took such liberties with geogra- 
phy because only well-established processes of change were invoked in 
the operations. Knowing that during the passage of an earthquake a 
territory bordering the sea may be upraised or sunk a few feet, they 
drew the sweeping inference that any amount of upheaval or depression 
of any part of the earth's surface might be claimed in explanation of 
geological i>roblems. The ]>rogress of inquiry, while it has somewhat 
curtailed this geographical license, has now made known in great detail 
the strange story of the Ice Age. 

There can not be any doubt that after man had become a denizen of 
the earth, a great physical change came over the Northern hemisphere. 
The climate, which liad previously been so mild that evergreen trees 
flourished within ten or twelve degrees of the north pole, noAv became so 
severe that vast sheets of snow and ice covered the north of Europe and 
crept southward beyond the south coast of Ireland, almost as far as the 


soutliern sliores of Englaiul, and across the Baltic into France and Ger- 
many. This Arctic transformation \\'as not an episode that lasted merely 
a few seasons, and left the land to resninc thereafter its ancient aspect. 
Witli \arioiis successive tiuctuations it must have endured for many 
thousands of years. When it begjan to disappear it i)robably faded 
awa.N as sl()\\i>- and imperceptibly as it had advanced, and when it 
hnall.N \anished it left Europe and Xortli America jnofoundly chan<ied 
in the character alike of their scenery and of their iidiabitants. The 
ru.uii'ed rocky contours of earlier times \vvv(\ i^rouiid smooth and pol- 
ished by the march of the ice across them, Avhile the lower grounds were 
buried under wide and thick sheets of clay, j^ravel, and sand, left l)e- 
hind by the meltin,«i- ice. The \ aried and abundant tlora which had 
spread so far within the Arctic? circle was driven away into more 
southern and less un,i;enial climes. But most nienu)rable of all was 
the extirpation of the prominent large animals which, before the ad- 
vent of the !<•»', had roanu'd over Europe. The lions, hyenas, wild 
horses, hipi)opotaniuses, and other creatures either became entirely ex- 
tinct or were <lriven into the Mediterranean basin and into Africa. In 
their i)lact^ came northern forms — the reindeer, glutton, musk ox, woolly 
rhinoceros, and mammoth. 

Such a marvellous transformation in climate, in scenery, in vegetation 
and in inhabitants, within what was after all but a brief portion of geo- 
logical time, though it may have involxed no sudden or violent convul- 
sion, is sundy entitled to rank as a. catastrojjhe in the liistory of the 
globe. It was ])rol)ably brought about mainly if not entirely by the 
oi)eration of forces exteriuil to tln^ earth. No similar cahimity having 
befallen the continents v.ithin the time during which man has been 
recording his e\perieiu;e, the Ice Age might be cited as a contradiction 
to the iloctrine of unifornuty. And yet it manifestly nrrixt'd as part of 
the estal)Iished ordered' Xature. Whether or n(»l we graid that other 
ice ages lueceded the last great one, we must admit that the conditions 
um.ler w Iiieh it arose, so far as we know them, ndght conceivably have 
occui-red before and may occur again. The- various agencies called 
into i)lay by tin- extensive icfrigeration of the northern hemisphere 
were not different from those with which we are familiar. Snow fell 
and glaciers cre])t as they do to-day. Ice scored and ])olished rocks 
exac tly as it still does among the Alps and in Norway. There was 
nothing abnormal in the phenomena, save the scale on which they 
were manil'ested. .\nd thus, taking a broad view of (he whole subje<'t, 
we recognize the catastrophe, while at the same time we see in its i)rog- 
ress the operation of those same natural ])r()cesses w hich we know to 
be integral jtarts of the machinery whereby the surface of the earth is 
continually tian stormed. 

Among the tlebtswjiich science owes to the lluttoiiiau scliool. not 
the least memorable is the promulgalion of the tirst w ell iounde<l con- 


ceptions of the high antiquity of the globe. Some six thousand years 
liad previously been believed to comprise the whole life of the j^lanet, 
and indeed of the entire universe. When the curtain was then tirst 
raised that had veiled the history of the earth, and men, looking beyond 
the brief span within which they had supposed that history to have 
been transacted, beheld the records of a long vista of ages stretching 
fiir away into a dim illimitable past, tlie prospect vividly impressed 
their imagination. Astronomy had made known the immeasurable 
fields of space; the new science of geology seemed now to reveal bound- 
less distances of time. The more the terrestrial chronicles were studied 
the farther could the eye range into an antiquity so vast as to dety all 
attempts to measure or define it. The progress of research continually 
furnished additional evidence of the enormous duration of the ages 
that preceded the coming of man, while, as knowledge increased, periods 
that were thought to have followed each other consecutively were found 
to have been separated by prolonged intervals of time. Thus the idea 
arose and gained universal acceptance that, just as no boundary could be 
set to the astronomer in his free range through space, so the Avhole of by- 
gone eternity lay open to the re(i[uirements of the geologist. Playfair, 
re-echoing and expanding Hutton's language, had declared that neither 
among the records of the earth, nor in the planetary motions, can any 
trace be discovered of the beginning or of the end of the present order 
of things; that no symptom of infancy or of old age has been allowed 
to appear outhe face of nature, nor any sign by which either the past 
or the future duration of the universe can be estimated; and that 
although the Creator may put an end, as he no doul)t gave a begin- 
ning, to the present system, such a catastrophe will not be brought 
about by any of the laws now existing, and is not indicated by anything 
which we i)er(;eive. This doctrine was naturally espoused with warmth 
by the extreme uniformitarian school, which required an unlimited 
duration of time for the accomplishment of such slow and quiet cycles 
of change as they conceived to be alone recogniza])le in the records of 
the earth's past histoiy. 

It was Lord Kelvin, who, in the writings to which I have already 
referred, first called attention to tlie fundamentally erroneous nature 
of these conceptions. He pointed out thar from the high internal tem- 
perature of our globe, increasing inwards as it does, and from the rate 
of loss of its heat, a limit may be fixed to the planet's antiquity. He 
showed that so far from there being no sign of a beginning, and no 
prospect of an end, to the present economy, every lineament of the 
solar system bears witness to a gradual dissipation of energy from some 
definite starting point. No very precise data were then, or indeed are 
now, available for computing the interval which has elapsed since that 
remote commencernent, but he estimated that the surface <^)f the globe 
could not have c(msolidated less than twenty millions of years ago, for 
the rate of increase of temi)erature inwards would in that case have 


Ikhmi liijiher than it actually is; nor more than lour hundred millions of 
years aiio, for then there would ha\'e been no sensible increase at all. Me 
was inclined, Avhen lirst dealing with the subject, to believe that from 
a review of all the evidence then axailable, some such period as one 
hundred millious of years would eml)ra('e the whole geological history 
of the globe. 

It is iu)t a pleasant experience to discover that a fortune whicli one 
has unconcernedly believed to be ami)le has somehow taken to itself 
wings and disap])eared. When the geologist was siuldeidy awakened 
by the energetic warning of the physicist, who assured him that he had 
enormously overdrawn his account with past time, it was but n.atural 
under the circumstances that he shoidd think the accountant to be mis- 
taken, who thus returned to him dishonored the large drafts he had 
made on eternity. He saw how Avide were the limits of time deducible 
from physical considerations, how vague the data from which they had 
been calculated. And though he <-ould not help admitting that a limit 
nnist be fixed beyond whicjh his chronology could not be extended, he 
consoled himself Avith the rellection that after all a hundred millions of 
years was a tolerably ample period of time, and might i)ossibly have 
been quite sufflcieiit for the transaction of all the prolonged se(pience 
of events recorded in the crust of the earth. He Avas therefore dis- 
l)osed Ut accpiiesce in the limitation thus imposed upon geological his- 

But ])hysical in»iuiry continued to be pushed forward with regaid to 
the early history and antiquity of the earth. Further consideration of 
the influence of tidal friction in retarding the earth's rotation, and of 
the sun's rate of cooling, led to sweeping reductions of the time allow- 
able for the evolution of the ])lanet. The geologist found himself in 
the plight of Lear when his bodyguard of 100 knights was cut down. 
"What need you flve-and-twenty, ten or five'?" demands the inex- 
orable physicist, as he remorselessly strikes slice after slice from his 
aUowance of geological time. Lord Kelvin is willing, I believe, to grant 
us some twenty Uiillions of years, but Professor Tait would have us 
content with less than ten nullions. 

In scientilic as in other nnindane questions there may often be two 
sides, and the truth nuiy ultiiimtely be found not to lie wholly with 
either. I frankly confess that the demands of the early geologists for 
an uidiiiuted series of ages were extravagant, and even, for their own 
l»urposes, unnecessary, and that the physicist did good service in re- 
ducing them. It may also be freel\ admitted that the latest conclu- 
sions from physical considerations of the extent of geological time re- 
quire that the interi)r(^ration given to the record of the rocks should 
b(! rigorously i<;vised, with the view of ascertaining lunv far that inter- 
])retalion may be capable of modification or amendment. l>ut we nuist 
also remeud)er that the geological record constitutes a voluminous body 
of eviden(;e regarding the earth's history which can not be ignored, and 


must he expliiiiie<l in accoidauce with ascertained nntnral laws. If th& 
conclusions derived from the most careful study of this record can not 
be reconciled with those drawn from physical considiM'ations, it is surely 
not too much to ask that the latter should be also revised. It has been 
well said that the matheinatical mill is an admirable piece of machinery, 
but that. the value of what it yields depends upon the quality of what 
is put into it. That there nuist be some flaw in the physical ar,i>'ument 
I can, for my own ])art, hardly <loubl, though I do not i)retend to be 
able to say where it is to be found. ISome assumption, it seems to me,, 
has been made, or some consideration has been left out of sight, whicii 
will eventually be seen to ^■itiate the conclusions, and which when duly 
taken into account will allow time enough for any reasonable interpre- 
tation of the geological record. 

In problems of this nature, where geological data capable of nu- 
merical statement are so needful, it is hardly possible to obtain trust- 
worthy computations of time. We can only measure the rate of changes 
in progress now, and infer from these changes the length of time re- 
(piired for the completion of results achieved by the same processes in 
the past. There is fortunately one great cycle of movement which ad- 
mits of careful investigation, and which has been made to furnish val- 
uable materials for estimates of this kind. The universal degradation 
of the land, so notable a chara(?teristic of the earth's surface, has been 
regarded as an extrem(;ly slow process. Though it goes on witliout 
ceasing, yet from centuiy to century it seems to leave hardly any ])er- 
ceptible trace on the landscapes of a country. Mountains and plains, 
hills and valleys api)ear to wear the same familiar aspect which is 
indicated in the oldest pages of history. This obvious slowness in one 
of the most important dei)artmeuts of geological activity doubtless 
contributed in large measure to form and foster a vague belief in the 
vastness of the antiquity required for the evolution of the earth. 

But, as geologists eventually came to perceive, the rate of degrada- 
tion of the land is capable of actual measurement. The amount of 
material worn away from the surface of any drainage basin and carried 
in the form of nuid, sand, or gravel, by the main river into the sea 
represents the extent to which that surface has been lowered by waste 
in any given period of time. But denudation and deposition nuist be 
equivalent to each other. As much material must be laid down in sed- 
imentary accumulations as has been mechanically removed, so that in 
measuring the annual bulk of sediment borne into the sea by a river, 
we obtain a clue not only to the rate of denudation of the land, but also 
to the rate at which the deposition of new sedimentary formations takes 

As might be expected, the activities involved in the lowering of the 
surface of the land are not everywhere equally energetic. They are 
naturally more vigorous where the rainf\ill is heavy, where the daily 
range of temperature is large, and where frosts are severe. Hence they 


me ob\ ioiisly imicli more crt'cctix »■ in iiiomilaiiioiis rciiioiis t liaii on plains- 
and their resnlts must constantly \ary, not only in (liflcicnt hasins 
of (hainajio, but oven, and sonictimcs widely, ^\itllin the same basin. 
Actual nieasuienient of tlu' proportion of sedinuMit in river water 
sliows that while in some cases the lowerin.i;- of the surface of the land 
may be as much as -.j„ of a foot in a year, in others it falls as low- 
as ,. J,,,,. In other words, tlio rate of dejiosition of new sedimentary 
formations, over an aica of sea Hoor eipiix alent to tliat wliieh has 
yielded the sediment, may vary fr<»m one foot in se\en hundred ani' 
thirty years to one foot in six thonsand eiiiht hundred years. 

I f now we take these lesults and apidy them as measurcvs of the leu'itu 
of time recjuircd fortiie dejXKsition of the \arions sedimentary masse.s 
that form the outer ])art of the earth's crust, we obtain some indication 
of the duration of geoh)gica] history. On a reasonabk' com])utation 
these stratilied masses, wliere most fully developed, attain a united 
thickness of not less than 100,()()() feet. If they were all laid down at 
the most rapid recorded rate of denudation, they would icquire a 
])eriod of seventy-three nullions of years for their completion. If they 
were laid down at the slowest rate they would denuind a jieriod of not 
less than six hundred and eij^hty millions. 

But it may be arjiued that all kinds of terrestrial energy are grow- 
iuii' feeble, that the most active denudation now in ])io,<;ress is nnich 
less vigorous than that of bygone ages, and hence that the stratified 
part of the earth's crust may have been put together in a. much briefer 
space of time than modern events might lead us to su])pose. Such 
arguments are easily adduced and look sufficiently si)ecious, but no 
contirmation of tliem can be gathered from the rocks. On the contrary, 
no one can thoughtfully study the various systems of stratitied forma- 
tions without being impressed by the fullness of their evidence that, on 
the whole, the accunndation of sediment has been extremely slow. 
Again and again Ave encounter groups of strata comi)osed of thin paj)er- 
like lamina' of the finest silt, which evidently settled down (juietly and 
at intervals on the sea bottom. We lind successive layers covered 
Avith rii)})le-marks and sun-cracks, and we recognize in them memorials 
of ancient shores where sand and nuid trauipiilly gathered as they do 
in sheltered estuaries at the ])resent(lay. >\'e can see no proof what- 
ever — nor e\en any evidence which suggests — that (mi the whole the rate 
of waste aiul sedimentation was more rapid during Mesozoic and l*ala'- 
ozoic time than it is to-day. Had there been any marked difference in 
this rate from ancient to modeiii times, it would be incredible that no 
clear proof of it should have licen ri'corded in the crust of the eaith. 

iJut in actual fact the testimony in faxor of the slow accumulation 

and high anticpiity of the geological lecord is much stiongei' than might 

be inferred from the mere thickiu'ss of the stratified formations. These 

I sedimentary depositshave not been laid down in one unbroken se(pience, 

but have had their continuity interrupted again and again by upheaval 


ami (leprejssioii. So fiagiiientary are tliey in f>onic regions that we can 
easily (lemonstrate tlie leiigtli of time represented there by vstill exist- 
ing sedimentary strata to be a astly less tliaii the time indicated by the 
gaps in the series. 

There is yet a further and impressive body of evidence furnished by 
the successive races of plants and animals which have lived upon the 
earth and have left their remains sealed up within its rocky crust. No 
one now believes in the exploded doctrine that successive creations and 
universal destructions of organic life are chronicled in the stratitied 
roclvs. It is everywhere admitted that, from the remotest times up to 
the present day, there has been an onward march of development, type 
succeeding type in one long continuous progression. As to the rate of 
this evolution x>i'eeise data are wanting. There is however the im- 
portant negative argument furnished by the absence of evidence of 
recognizable speciiic variations of organic forms since man began to 
observe and record. We know that within human experience a few 
species have become extinct, but there is no conclusive proof that a 
single new species have come into existence, nor are appreciable 
variations readily apparent in forms that live in a wild state. The 
seeds and j^lants found with Egyptian mummies, and the flowers and 
fruits depicted on Egyptian tombs, are easily identitied with the vege- 
tation of modern Egypt. The embalmed bodies of animals found in 
that country show no sensible divergence from the structure or propor- 
tions of the same animals at the ])resenr day. The human races ot 
Northern Africa and Western Asia were already as distinct when i»or- 
trayed by the ancient Egy])tian artists as they are now, and they do 
not seem to have undergone any perceptible change since then. Thus 
a lajise of four or live thousand years has not been accomi)anied by any 
recognizable variation in such forms of plant and animal life as can be 
tendered in evidence. Absence of sensible change in these instances 
is, of course, no proof that considerable alteration may not have been 
accomplished in other forms more exposed to vicissitudes of climate 
and other external intiuences. But it furnishes at least a presumption 
in tinor of the extremely tardy progress of organic variation. 

If however we extend our vision beyond the narrow range of human 
history, and look at the remains of the plants and animals ])reservedin 
those younger formations which, though recent when regarded as parts 
of the whole geological record, must be many thousands of years older 
than the very oldest of human monuments, we encounter the most im- 
pi-essive proofs of the persistence of specific forms. Shells which lived 
in our seas before the coming of the Ice age present the very same 
peculiarities of form, structure, and ornament which their descendants 
still ])ossess. The lapse of so enormous an interval of time has not 
sufliced seriously to modify tliem. So too with the plants and the 
higher animals which still survive. Some forms have become extinct, 
)>ut few or none Avhich remain display any transitional gradations into 


new s])ecies. We imist admit that such trausitious have occurred, that 
indeed they liave been in proj^ress ever since organized existence began 
upon our phmet, and arc doubtless talving phice now. But m'c can not 
detect them on the way, and we feel constrained to believe that their 
march must be excessively slow. 

There is no reason to think that the rate of organic evolution has 
ever seriously varied; at least no proof has been adduced of such va- 
riation. Taken in connection with the testimony of the sedimentary 
rocks, the inferences deducible from fossils entirely bear out the opinion 
that the building up of the stratified crust of the earth has been ex- 
tremely gradual. If the many thousands of years which have elapsed 
since the Ice age have produced no appreciable modification of sur- 
viving plants and animals, how vast a period must have been required 
for that marvellous scheme of organic development which is chronicled 
in the rocks! 

After careful reflection on the subject, I affirm that the geological 
record furnishes a mass of evidence which no arguments drawn from 
other departments of nature can explain away, and which, it seems to 
me, can not l)e satisfactorily interpreted save with an allowance of time 
much beyond the narrow limits which recent physical speculation would 

1 have reserved for hnal consideration a branch of the history of the 
earth which, while it has become, within the lifetime of the present 
generation, one of the most interesting and fascinating departments of 
geological inquiry, owed its first impulse to the far-seeing intellects of 
Hutton and Playfair. \^"ith the i)enetration of genius these illustrious 
teachers perceived that if the broad nuisses of land and the great 
chains of mountains owe their origin to stupendous movements which 
from time to time have convulsed the earth, their details of contour 
nuist be mainly due to the eroding power of running water. They 
recognized tluit as the surface of the land is continually worn down, it 
is essentially by a [)r<)cess of scnl[)tnre that the physiognomy of exery 
country has l)een develoi)ed, valleys being hollowed out and hills left 
standing, and that these ineipmlities in topographical detail are only 
varying and local accidents in the progress of the one great i)rocess of 
the degredation of tlie land. 

From the broad and guiding outlines of theory tlius sketched we 
have now advan(;ed amid ever-widening multiplicity of detail into a 
fuller and nobler (conception of the oi'igin of scenery. The law of evo- 
lution is written as legibly on the landscapes of the earth as on any 
other page of the book o£ nature. Not only do we recognize that the 
existing toi)ograi)hy of the continents, instead of being primeval in 
origin, has gradually been developed aftei' many precedent mutations, 
but we are enabled to trace these earlier revolutions in tlie structure 
of every hill and glen. Each mountain chain is thus found to be a 
II. Mis. 114 


memorial of mauy successive stages iu geographical evolutiou. Within 
certain limits land and sea have changed places again and again. 
Volcanoes liave broken out and have become extinct in many countries 
long before the advent of man. Whole tribes of plants and animals 
have meanwhile come and gone, and in leaving their remains behind them 
as monuments at once of the slow development of organic types, and 
of the prolonged vicissitudes of the terrestrial surface, have furnished 
materials for a chronological arrangement of the earth's topographical 
features. Nor is it only from the organisms of former epochs that 
broad generalizations may be drawn regarding revolutions in geog- 
raphy. The living plants and animals of to-day have been discovered 
to be eloquent of ancient geographical features that have long since 
vanished. In their distribution they tell us that climateshave changed ; 
that islands have been disjoined from continents; that oceans once 
nnited have been divided from each other, or once separate have now 
been joined; that some tracts of land have disappeared, while others 
for prolonged periods of time have remained in isolation. The pres- 
ent and the past are thus linked together, not merely by dead matter, 
but by the world of living things, into one vast system of continuous 

In this marvellous increase of knowledge regarding the transforma- 
tions of the earth's surface, one of the most impressive features, to my 
mind, is the power now given to us of perceiving the many striking 
contrasts between the present and former aspects of topography and 
scenery. We seem to be endowed with a new sense. What is seen by 
the bodily eye — mountain, valley, or plain — serves but as a veil, beyond 
which, as we raise it, visions of long-lost lands and seas rise before us 
in a far-retreating vista. Pictures of the most diverse and opposite 
character are beheld, as it were, through each other, their lineaments 
subtly interwoven, and even their most vivid contrasts subdued into 
one blended harmony. Like tlie poet, "we see, but not by sight alone;" 
and the "ray of fancy" which, as a sunbeam, lightened up his land- 
scape, is for us broadened and brightened by that play of the imagina- 
tion which science can so vividly excite and prolong. 

xVdmirable illustrations of this modern interpretation of scenery are 
sup])lied by the district wlierein we are now assembled. On every -side 
of us rise the most convincing proofs of the reality and potency of that 
ceaseless sculpture by which the elements of landscape have been carved 
into their present shapes. Turn where we inay, our eyes rest on hills 
that project above the lowland, not because they have been upheaved 
into these positions, but because their stubborn materials have enabled 
them better to withstand the degradation which has worn down the 
softer strata into the plains around them. Inch by inch the surface of 
the land has been lowered, and each hard rock successively laid bare has 
communicated its own characteristics of form and color to the scenery. 


li\ standiiijj;- on the (Jiistle Hook, the central and ohlest site in Edin 
burgh, we aHow the bodily eye to wander over the lair landscape, and 
the mental vision to rau<it; through the long vista of earlier landscapes 
which science here reveals to us, what a strange series of i)ictures passes 
before our gaze ! The busy streets of to-day seem to fade away into the 
mingled copsewood and forest of pre-historic time. Lakes that have long 
since vanished gleam through the woodlands, and a rudecam)e pushing 
from the shore startles the red deer that had come to drink. While we 
look, the picture changes to a jxtlar scene, with bushes of stunted Arctic 
willow and birch, among which herds of reindeer browse and the huge 
mammoth makes his home. Thick sheets of snow are draped all over the 
hills around, and far to the northwest the distant gleam of glaciers and 
snowtields marks the line of the Highland mountains. As we muse (m 
this strange contrast to the living world of to day the scene appears to 
grow more Vrctic in aspect, until every hill is buried under one vast 
sheet of ice, 2,(»0() feet or more in thickness, which fills up the whole 
midland valley of Scotland and creeps slowly eastward into the basin of 
the North Sea. TTere the cuitain drops ujton our moving pageant, for 
in the geological record oi this })art of the country an enormous gap 
occurs before the coming of the Ice Age. 

When once moie the sjtectacle r(\sumes its movement the scene is 
found to ha\e utterly changed. The familiar hills and valleys of the 
Lothians have disapi)eared. Dense jungles of a strange vegetation — 
tall reeds, club mosses, and tree-ferns — spread over tlu^streamiug swam i»s 
that stretch for leagues in all directions. Broad lagoons and oi)en seas 
arc dotted with little voh'-anic cones which throw out their streams of 
lava and showers of ashes. Beyond these, in dimmer outline and older in 
date, we descry a wide lake or inland sea, covering the whole midland 
valley and marked witli long lines of acti\e volcanoes, some of them sev- 
eral thousand feet in height. And still furtlierand fainter over the same 
region, we may catch a giimjjse of that si ill earlier exj)anseof sea which 
in Siluiiaii times oversi)read most of Brifian. Butl)eyond this scene our 
vision fails, VV^e have reaclunl the limit across which no geological 
evidence exists to lead the imagination into the primeval darkness 

Sucli in briefest outline is the succession of mental pictur«^s which 
modern sci(Mice enables us to IVamcout of the landscapes around l^^diii- 
bui-gh. TJH'y may be taken as illustiations of what may be drawn, and 
sometimes with even greater fulness and vividnc^ss, from any district in 
these islands. But 1 cite tiiem especially because of their local interest 
in connection with the present meeting of the Association, and because 
the rocks that yield them gave inspirati(»n to those great masters w hos(^ 
claims on our recollection, not least for their e.\]>lanation of the origin 
of scenery, I have tried to recount this e\ening. 


By Arnold Hague, 

U. S. Geological Siirreii. 

In the short time allotted to me 1 can only liope to present a brief 
sketch of the main geological features of the country which you are 
about to visit. JNIy remarks must, of necessity, be more or less iucom- 
]3lete, as my desire is uot so much to elucidate any special problem 
connected with the many interesting geological questions to be found 
here, but rather to offer such a general view of the region as will 
enable you, during your live days' trip through the Park, to understand 
clearly something of its physical geogra])hy and geology. 

The Yellowstone Park is situated in the extreme northwestern por- 
lion of the Territory of Wyoming. Its boundaries, as determined by 
the original act of Congress setting apart the Park, are very ill- 
defined. At the time of the enactment of the law establishing this 
national reservation, the region had been but little explored, and its 
relation to the physical features of the adjacent country was but little 
nnderstood. Since that time, surveys have shown that only a narrow 
strip, about '2 miles in width, was situated in the Territory of Mon- 
tana, but it was also found that a still narrower strip extended west- 
ward into the Territory of Idaho. The question of ])roperly establish- 
ing the boundaries, based upon our present knowledge of the ccmntry, 
is now before Congress, and an act has already i)assed the Senate, pro- 
posing to make the northern boundary coincide with the boundary 
between Wyoming and Montana, and tlie western boundary coincide 
with the Wyoming and Idaho line. The act under consideration 
extends tlie soullu'rn Ixamdary of the Park to the 44th ])arallel of lati- 
tude, carrying the area of the reservation scmthward 9S miles. The 
eastern ])oundary is made to coincide Avith tlie meridian of 101)^ .'>0', 
adding a strq) of country about 24^ miles in width along the entire 
eastern side ol' Hie Park. 

The area ol" the Pai'k, as at present defined, is somewhat more than 
.'],3(K) s(piiire miles, and the projiosed addition increases the I'eservation 

*' An address at. a special session of tlic Aiiu'iicni Institule of Miiuii<>' Engineers, 
at Manimotb Hot Springs, Wyoiuiiig, on llic Ixmlcrs of tlu> National I'ark, July, 
1887. (From Trans, yim. Inst. Minimi Enfiincrvi^.) 



by nearly 2,0U0 snuaic. miles. The Fark plateau, with the adjacent 
mountains, presents a sharply defined region, in strong contrast with 
the rest of the northern Rocky Mountains. It stands out boldly by 
itself, unique in topogTaphical structure, and complete as a geological 

The central portion of the Yellowstone l*ark is, essentially, a broad, 
elevated, volcanic plateau, between 7,000 and 8,500 feet above sea-level, 
and with an average elevation of about 8,000 feet. Surrounding it on 
the south, east, north, and northwest, are mountain ranges with culmi- 
nating peaks and ridges rising from 2,000 to 4,000 feet above the 
general level of the inclosed table-land. 

For present purposes it is needless to confine ourselves strictly to 
legal boundaries, but rather to consider the entire region in its broader 
physical features. It is worthy of note, however, that by the proposed 
enlargement the protected area will agree closely with the geographical 

South of the I'ark, the Tetons stand out prominently above the sur- 
rounding country, the highest, grandest peaks in the northern Rocky 
Mountains. The eastern face of this mountain mass rises with nn- 
riv^alled boldness for nearly 7,000 feet above Jackson Lake. I^i'orth- 
ward, the ridges fall away abruptly beneath the lavas of the Park, only 
the outlying spurs coming within the limits of the reservation. For the 
most part the mountains are made up of coarse crystalline gneisses and 
schists, probably of Archean age, flanked on the northern spurs by up 
turned Palieozoic strata. 

To the east, across the broad valley of the Upper Snake, generally 
known as Jackson Basin, lies the well-knowii Wind River Range, 
famous from the earliest days of the Rocky Mountain trappers. The 
Northern end of this range is largely composed of Mesozoic strata, 
single ridges of Cretaceous sandstone penetrating still farther north- 
ward into the regions of the Park, and protruding above the great 
flows of lava. 

Along the entire eastern side of the Park stretches the Absaroka 
Range — so-called from the Indian name of the Crow Nation. The 
Absaroka Range is intimately connected with the Wind River, the two 
being so closely related that any line of separation must be drawn 
more or less arbitrarily, based more upon geological structures and 
fo^ms of erosion than upon i^hysical limitations. 

The Absarokas offer, for more than 80 miles, a bold, unbroken bar- 
rier to all western progress; a rough, rugged country, dominated by 
high peaks and crags from 10,000 to 11,000 feet in height. Only a 
few adventurous hunters and mountaineers cross the range by one or 
two dangerous, precipitous trails known to but few. The early trap- 
pers found it a forbidding land; prospectors who followed them, a 
bnrren one. 

At the northeast corner of the Park a confused mass of mountains 


coniu'cts the Absarokas with tlic Snowy Itaiijie. This Snowy Ranj;v 
shuts in the Park on the north, and is an c.iu;ill.\' roni;h r<^j;iou of conn 
tiy, with ek'N'atcd mount -liu luasscs coNcred with snow tlio jiieater part 
ot the year, ;is tlie nanu' wouhl indicate. Only tlie southern sh)pes, 
wliieli rim in the I'ark I'egion, come within the limit of our investiga- 
tion. Here the roidcs are mainly granites, gneisses, and schists, the 
sedinu-ntary beds, for the most part, referable to the pre-( 'and)rian 

The Galhitin Range incloses the Park on the north and northwest. 
It lies directly west of the Snowy, only separated by the broad valley 
of the Yellowstone River. It is a range of great beauty, of diversified 
forms, and varied geological problems. Electric Peak, lu the extreme 
ncH'th western corner of the Park, is the culminating ])oint in the range, 
and affords one of the most extended views to be found in this part of 
the country. Archean gneisses form a prominent mass in the range 
over which occur a series of sandstones, limestones, and shales, of Pale- 
ozoic and Meso/oic age, representing Cambrian, Silurian, Devonian, 
Carboniferous, Trias, Jura, and Cretaceous. Immediately associated 
with these sedimentary beds, are large misses of intrusive rocks, 
which hav^e played an important part in bringing about the present 
structural features of the range, Tiiey are all of the andesitic t^'jie, 
but sliowing considerable range in mineral composition, including 
]>yroxene, hornblende, and hornblende mi(;a varieties. These intrusive 
masses are f)unil in narrow dikes, in immense interbedded sheets 
forced between the different strata, and as laccolites, a mode of occur- 
rence first described from the Henry Mountains in Utah, by Mr. G. K. 
CJilbert, but now well recognized elsewhere in the northern Cordillera. 

We see then tiiat the Absarokas rise as a formidable barrier on the 
eastern sid(^ of tiie Park, the Gallatins as a steep mural face on the 
west side, while the other ranges terminate ai>ru]>tly, rimming in the 
Park on the north and south, and le iving a depressed region not unlike 
llu; parks of Colorado, only covering a. more extended area with a rela- 
tively deeper basin. The region has been one of profound dynamic 
action, and tlic center of mountain building on a grand scale. On the 
accompanying map of the Yellowstone Park, which shows the position 
of the princii)al o!))ects of interest, the relations of the ranges to the 
plateau are clearly indicated. 

It is not my purpose at the present time to enter u]>()n the details of 
ge:)logical structure oftln^se ranges, each offering its own special study 
and field of investigation. My desire is simi)ly to call your attention 
to their general features and mutual relations. So far as their age is 
concerned, evidence goes to show that the action of upheaval was con- 
temporaneous in all of them, and coincident wMth the powerful dy- 
namic movements wliich uplifted the north and south ranges, stretch- 
ing across (Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana. This dynamic move- 
ment blocked out, for the most part, the Rocky Mountains, near the 



close of the Cretaceous, altliougli there is good reason to believe that 
in this region profound fanlting and displacement continued the work 
of mountain building well into the Middle Tertiary period. 
Throughout Tertiary time in the Park area, geological history was char- 

sc.iic:iiueh=vju,ncs. YELLOWSTO>'E JiATIONAL PARK 

acterized by great volcanic activity, enormons volumes of erupted mate- 
rial being jwured out in theEocene and Middle Tertiary, continuing with 
less force through the Pliocene, and extending into Quaternary time. 
Within very recent times there is no evidence of any considerable out- 


burst; indeed the region may be considered long since extinct. These 
volcanic rocks present a wide range in chemical and mineral composi- 
ticm and jdiysical structure. They may all however be classed under 
three great groups — andesites, rhyolites, and basalts — following each 
other in the order named. In some instances, erupti<ms of basalt oc- 
curred before the complete extinction of rhyolite, but in general, the 
relative ageof eaeh group is clearly and sharply defined, the distribu- 
tion and mode of occurrence of each presenting characteristics and 
salient features frequently marked by periods of erosion. 

Andesites are the only volcanic rocks which have i)layed an impor- 
tant part in ])roducing the present structural features of the moun- 
tains surrounding the Park. As already mentioned, they occur in 
large masses in the Gallatin range, while most of the culminating 
peaks in the .Absarokas are composed of compact andesites and ande- 
sitic breccias. On the other hand, the andesites are not confined to the 
mountains, but played an active role in filling up the interior basin. 
That the duration of the andesitic eruptions was long continued, is 
made evident by the plant-remains found in ash and lava beds thnmgh 
2,000 feet of volcanic material. The plants have as yet been too little 
studied to define positively their geological horizons. It is quite pos- 
sible that they may indicate marked differences of climate between the 
lower and upper beds. 

In early Tertiary times, a volcano Durst forth in the northeast cor- 
ner of the depressed area encircled by the Park Mountains, not far 
ft"om the junction of the Absaroka and tSnowy ranges. While not to 
to be compared in size and grandeur with the volcanoes of California 
and the Cascade Ivange, it is, for the Rocky ^lountains, one of no mean 
proportions. It rises from a base about (),500 feet above sea-level, the 
culminating peak attaining an elevation of 10,000 feet. This gives a 
height to the voh-anoof 8,.500 feet from base to summit, measuring from 
the Arcluean rocks of the Yellowstone Valley to the top of Mount Wash- 
burne. The average height of the crater rim is about 9,000 feet above 
sea level, t\w volcano measuring 15 miles across the base. The erup- 
tive origin of AFount Washburne has long been reciognized, and it is 
frequently referred to as a volcano. It is however simi)ly the highest 
peak among several others, and re])resents a later outburst which de- 
stroyed in a measure the original rim and Ibrm of the older crater. The 
eruptions for the most part were basic andesites. Erosion has so worn 
away the earlier rocks, and enormtms masses of more recent lavas 
have so obscured the original form of lava-tlows, that it is not easy for 
an inexperienced eye to recognize a volcano and the surrounding ])eaks 
as the more elevated points in a grand cratei- wall. By following 
around on the ancient andesitic rim, and studying the outline of the 
old crater, together with the <-omi»osition of its lavas, its true origin 
and history may readily be ma<le out. This older crater has as yet 
received no special designation. l)ut when our maps and reports are 
finally published, this ancient geological ruin will receive an approjiriate 


dcsigiuitioii. This old volcano of early Tertiary time occupies a prom- 
inent place in the geolo<;ical deve]o])iiient of the Park, and dates back 
to the earliest outbursts of lava which have in this region changed a 
depressed basin into an elevated plateau. We have here a volcano 
situated far inland, in an elevated region, in the heart of the Rocky 
Mountains. It lies on the eastern side of the continent, only a few 
. miles from the great continental divide which sends its waters to both 
the Atlantic and Pacific. 

After the dying out of the andesitic lavas, followed by a period of 
erosion, immense volumes of rhyolite were eruj)ted, which not only 
threatened to fill uj) the crater but to bury the outer walls of the vol- 
cano. On all sides the andesitic slopes were submerged beneath the 
rhyolite to a lieight of from 8,0()() to S,500 feet. This enormous mass 
of , rhyolite, poured out after the close of the andesitic period, did more 
than anything else to bring about the present physical features of the 
Park table-land, A tourist inaking the customary trip through the 
I'ark, visiting all the prominent geyser basins, hot si:»rings, and the 
Grand Canon and Falls of the Yellowstone, is not likely to come upon 
any other rock than rhyolite, excepting, of course, deposits from the 
hot springs. If he extended his journey to the lake region, taking in 
Shoshone, Lewis, and Yellowstone lakes, and spending a week or ten 
days going over the beaten routes of travel, he will not, unless he as- 
cends Mount Washburne, leave the rhyolite lavas. A description of 
the rhyolite region is essentially one of the Park plateau. Taking the 
bottom of the basin at 6,500 feet a,bove sea level, these acidic lavas 
were piled up until the accumulated mass measured 2,000 feet in thick- 
ness. It completely encircled the Gallatin Range, burying its lower 
slopes on both the east and west sides; it banked up all along the west 
Hanks of the Absarokas, and buried the outlying spurs of the Teton 
and Wind River ranges. 

The Park Plateau covers an area approximately 50 by 40 miles, with 
a mean altitude of 8,000 feet. It is accidented by undulating basins of 
^•Hried outline and scored by deep canyons and gorges. Strictly speak- 
ing it is not a i)lateau; at least it is by no means a level area, but a rug- 
ged country, characterized by bold escarpments and abrupt edges of 
mesa-like ridges. But few large vents or centers of volcanic activity 
for the rhyolite have been recognized, the two princii)al sources being 
the volcano to which reference has already been made, and- Mount 
Sheridan in the southern end of the Park, Mount Sheridan is the 
most commanding peak on the plateau, with an elevation 10,200 feet 
above sea level and 2,000 feet above Heart Lake. From the summit of the 
l)eak on a clear day one may overlook the entire plateau country and the 
mountains which shut it in, while almost at the base of the peak lie the 
magnificent lakes which add so much to the quiet beauty of the region, in 
contrast with the rugged scenery of the mountains. From no point is the 
magnitude and grandeur of the volcanic region so impressive. The lava- 
flows — bounded on the east by the Absarokas — extend westward not 



only across the itaik. hut across the Madison Plateau, and out on to the 
.liicat plains JSnalcc ot Ri\('r, str<'t('liin,ii far westward almost without a 
break in tlie eontinnity ottlieeru])tive Hows. ()\-er the central i»ortionof 
the park,whe. e the ryholites are thickest, erosion has tailed to penetrate to 
thennderlyin<; rock. Even snch dee]) lioriicsas the Yellowstone, (Til)hou, 
and JNIadison Cafions liave nowhere woi-n throngh these rhyolite tlows. 
In the Uiand C'anon of the Yellowstone the andesitic breccias are found 
beneath the rliyolites, but the deepest cuts fail to reveal the underly- 
ing sedimentary beds. Although the rocks of the jdatean for the most 
])art l)elong to one group of acidic Ia\as, they by no nn'ans present tlie 
great uniformity and monotony in Held appearance that might be ex- 
pected. These 2,0(K> scpiare miles ofler as grand a iield for the study of 
structural forms, develoi)ment of crystallization, and mode of occurrence 
of acidic lavas as could well be found aiiywliere in tlie world. They 
vary from a nearly holocrystalline rock to one of pure volcanic glass. 
Obsidian, pumice, pitchstone, ash, ])reccia, and an endless development 
of transition forms alternate with the more conii)act lithoidal lavas 
which make up the great mass of the rhyolite, and wiiich in colors, 
texture, and structural developments i)i'esent an equally varied aspect. 
In mineral conii)ositi(ui these rock are simple enough. The essential 
nunerals are orthoclase and (inartz, with more or less plagioclase. 
Sanidine is the prevailing feldspar, although in many cases plagioclase 
forms occur nearly as abundantly as ortlioclase. Ohemical analyses, 
whether we consider the rocks from the crater of Mount Sheridan, the 
summit of the plateau, oi- the volcanic glass of the woild-renowned 
Obsidian Cliff, present comparatively slight differences in ultimate com- 

Tlie following analyses of two locks, representing extreme forms in 
physical habit, show how closely they approach each other in composi- 
tion of the origiiud magnm : 

No. 1. \... ■-'. 

Miidisoii Plateau. Obsidian Clili'. 


Titanic acid 

Plio.splioric acid . 


Ferric oxide 

Ferrous oxide . . . 
Ferric sulphide . . 
Manganese oxide 






Sulphuric acid . . . 




75. 19 

7"). .')2 






U. 11 








(1. (W 



0. 10 

0. 1)2 


3. 02 


3. 93 

(1. 29 



99. 83 



The rock from Madison Plateau was collected on the north side of 
Madison Canyon and was selected as a typical rock coYerin<>' large areas 
of the Park. It is purplish-gray in color, rough in texture, porphy- 
ritic in structure, and characterized by well-developed sanidin and 
quartz. The obsidian, from Obsidian Cliif, is an excellent example of 
pure volcanic glass, wholly devoid of porphyritic crystals. In general 
the investigations of the laboratory confirm the observations of the 
field geologist, that the differences exhibited by the volcanic i)roduct are 
not of cliemical or mineral composition, but rather of physical con- 
ditions under which the magma has cooled. 

I have dwelt suinewhat in detail upon tlie nature of these rocks for 
two reasons: First, because of the dififtculty met with by the scientific 
traveller in recognizing the uniformity and simplicity of chemical com- 
position of the rhyolite magma over the entire i)lateau, owing to its 
great diversity in superficial habit; second, on account of their geolog- 
ical importance in connection with the unrivalled display of the gey- 
sers and hot springs. Tliat the energy of tlie steam and thermal 
waters dates well back into the period of volcanic action, there is in 
my opinion very little reason to doubt. As the energy of this under- 
ground heat is to day one of the most impressive features of the 
country, I will defer commenting upon the geysers and hot springs 
until speaking of the present condition of the Park. 

Although the rhyolite ernptions were probably of long duration and 
died out slowly, there is, I think, evidence to show that they occupied 
a clearly and sharply defined period between the andesites and basalt 
eruptions. Sin(;e the outpouring of this enormous body of rhyolite 
and building up of tlie plateau the region has undergone profound 
faulting and displacement, lifting up bodily immense blocks of lava 
and modifying the surface features of the country. Following the rhy- 
olite came the period of basalt eruptions, which, in comparison with 
the andesite and rhyolite eras, w^as, so far as the Park was con- 
cerned, insignificant, both as regards the area covered by the basalt 
and its influence in modifying the physical aspect of the region. The 
basalt occurs as thin sheets overlying the rhyolite and in some 
instances as dikes cutting the more acidic rocks. It has broken out 
near the outer edge of the rhyolite body and occurs most frequently 
along the Yellowstone Valley, along the western foothills of the Gal- 
latin Eange and Madison Plateau, and again to the southward of the 
Falls River basin. 

After the greater part of the basalt had been poured out came the 
ghicial ice, which widened and deepened the pre-existing drainage 
channels, cut profound gorges through the rhyolite lavas and 'modelled 
tlie two volcanos into their present form. Over the greater part of the 
Cordillera of the central and northern Rocky Mountains wherever the 
peaks attain a suCQcieutly high altitude to attract the moisture-laden 
clouds evidences of the former existence of local glaciers are to be 


found. lu the Teton Range several well-dettiied cliaracteristic glaciers 
still (>xist u]><)ntlio abrupt slopes of Mount Haj'den and Mount JMoran. 
They are the remnants of a much larger system of glaciers. Tlie Park 
region i)reseuts so broad a. mass of elevated country that the entire 
plateau was, in glacial times, covered with a heavy capping of ice. 
Evidences of glacial action are everywhere to be seen. 

Over the Absaroka Range glaciers were forced down into the Lamar 
and Yeirowstone valleys, thence westward over the top of Mount Evarts 
to the Mammoth Hot Springs Basin. On the opposite side of the Park 
the ice from the summit of the Gallatin Range moved eastward across 
Swan Valley and passing over the top of Terrace Mountain joined the 
ice fiehl coming from the east. The united ice sheet plowed its way 
northu'ard down tiie valley of the Gardiner to tlie Lower Yellowstone, 
where the broad valley may be seen strewn with the material trans- 
ported from l)oth the east and west rims of the Park. 

Since the dying out of the rliyolite eruptions erosion has greatly 
moditied the entire surface features of the Park. Some idea of the ex- 
tent of this action may be realized when it is recalled that the deep 
cafions of the Yellowstone, Gibbon and Madison rivers — canons in the 
strictest use of the word — have all been carved out since that time. 
To-day these gorges measure several miles in length and from 1,000 to 
1,500 feet in depth. 

To the geologist one of the most impressive objects on the Park 
l)lateau is a transported bowlder of granite which rests directly upon 
the rliyolite near the brink of the (rrand Canon, about 3 miles beh)w the 
Falls of the Yellowstone. It stands alone in the forest, miles from the 
nearest glacial bowlder. Glacial detritus carrying granitic material 
may be traced upon both sides of the canon wall, but not a fragment 
of rock more than a few inches in diameter, older than the recent lavas, 
lijjs been recognized within a radius of many miles. This massive 
block, although irregular in shape and somewhat pointed toward the 
top, measures 24 feet in length by 20 feet in breadth and stands 18 feet 
above the base. The nearest point from which it could have been trans- 
]»orted is distant 30 or 40 miles. (Joining upon it in the solitude of the 
forest with all its strange, surroundings it tells a most impressive story. 
lu no ])lace are the evidences of frost and lire brought so forcibly to- 
gether as in the Yellowstone National Park. 

Since the close of the ice ]>eriod no geological events of any moment 
have brought about any changes in the physical history of the region 
other than those produced by the direct action of steam and thermal 
waters. A few insigniticant eruptions have probably occurred, but 
they failed to modify the broad outlines of topographical structure and 
present but little of general interest beyond the evidence of the con- 
tinuance <d" volcanii; action into <[uaternary times. Volcanic activity 
in the Park maybe considered as long since extinct. At all events in- 
dications of fresh lava-tiows within historical times are wholly want- 


iiig". This is not without interest, as evidence of uudei-gTouud heat 
may be observed everywhere throughout the Park in the waters of the 
geysers and hot springs. All our observations point in one direction 
and lead to the theory that the cause of the high temperatures of these 
waters must be found in the heated rocks below, and that the origin of 
the heat is in some way associated with the source of volcanic energy. It 
by no means follows that the waters themselves are derived from any 
deep-seated source; on the contrary, investigation tends to show that 
the waters brought up by the geysers and hot springs are mainly sur- 
face waters which have percolated downward a sufficient distance to 
become heated by large volumes of steam ascending through fissures 
and vents from much greater depths. If this theory is the correct one 
it is but fair to demand that evidence of long-continued action of hot 
waters and super-heated steam should be apparent upon the rocks 
through which they passed on their way to the surface. This is pre- 
cisely what one sees in innumerable places on the Park plateau. In- 
deed, the decomposition of the lavas of the rhyolite plateau have pro- 
ceeded on a most gigantic scale, and could only have taken place after 
the lapse of an enormous period of time and the giving off of vast 
quantities of heat, if we are to judge at all by what we see going on 
around us to-day. The ascending currents of steam and hot water 
have been powerful geological agents, and have left an indelible im- 
pression upon the surface -of the county. The most striking example 
of this action is found in the Grand Canon of the Yellowstone. From 
the lower falls for o miles down the river abrupt walls upon both 
sides of the canon, a thousand feet in de]Dth, pri'seut a brilliancy and 
mingling of color beyond the power of description. From the brink of 
the canon to the water's edge the walls are sheer bodies of decomposed 
rhyolite. Varied hues of orange, red, purple, and sulphur-yellow are 
irregularly blended in one confused mass. There is scarcely a piece of 
unaltered rock in place. Much of it is changed into kaolin; but from 
rhyolite, still easily recognized, occur tiansition products of every pos- 
sible kind to good jjrocelain clay. This is the result of the long- con- 
tinued action of steam and vapors upon the rhyolite lavas. Through 
this nuiss of decomposed rhyolite the course of ancient steam vents in 
their upward passage may still be traced, while at the bottom of the 
canon hot springs, fumaroles, and steam vents are still more or less 
active, but probably with diminished power. 

It is needless to weary you with the details of this decomposition, 
but I may add that investigations in the laboratory upon these tran- 
sition products fully substantiate field observations. 

Still other areas are quite as convincing, if not on so grand a scale, 
as the Yellowstone Canon. Joseph's Coat Basin, on the east side of 
the canon, and Brimstone Hills, on tin; east side of the Yellowstone 
Lake, an extensive area on the slopes of the Absaroka Eange, both 
present evidences of the same chemical processes brought about in the 


saiiu' luaniier. It is not statiiij;- it too stioiigly to say tliat the plateau on 
the east side of the (irand Canon, from Uroad (Jreeiv to Telican Creek, 
is eoni])letely undermined by the action of superheated steam and 
alkaline waters on the rhyolite lava. Simihir processes may be seen 
ijoing- on to-day in all the geyser basins. To accomplish these changes 
a long period of time must have been recpiired. The study of com- 
paratixely fresii vents shows almost no change from year to year, al- 
though careful scrutiny during a period of tive years detects a certain 
amount of disintegration, bnt infinitely small in comparison with the 
great bo<lies of altered rock. This is well shown in a locality like the 
Monarch Geyser in the iSTorris Geyser Basin, where the water is thrown 
out at regular intervals through a narrow fissure in the rock. 

The Grand Canon of the Yellowstone otters one of the most impres- 
sive examples of erosion on a grand scale within recent geological 
times. It is self-evident that the deep canon must be of much later 
origin than the rock through whicih it has been worn, and it seems 
(piite clear that the course and outlines of the canon were in great part 
determined by the easily eroded decomposed material forming the 
canon walls, and this in turn was brought about by the slow processes 
just described. 

The evidence of the anti(iuity of the hot spring deposits is, perhaps, 
showji in an equally striking manner and by a wholly ditterent proc- 
ess of geological reasoning. Terrace Mountain is an outlying ridge of 
the rhyohte plateau just west of the Mammoth Hot S])rings. It is 
covered on the summit with thick beds of travertine, among the eldest 
portions of the Mammoth Hot Springs deposits. It is the mode of 
occurrence of these calcareous deposits from the hot waters which 
has given the name to the mountain. Lying upon the surface of 
this travertine on the top of the mountain are found glacial bowlders 
brought from the summit of the Gallatin Range, fifteen miles away, 
and transported on the ice sheet across Swan Valley and deposited 
on the top of the mountain, TOO ieet above the intervening valley. It 
offers the strongest possible evidence that the traveitine is older than 
the glacier which has strewn the country with transported material. 
How much travertine was eroded by the ice is, of course, impossible to 
say, bnt so friable a material would yield readily to glacial movement. 

Still another method of arriving at the great anti(iuit>- of the thermal 
energy and the age of the hot spring foimation is by determining the 
rate of deposition and measuring the thickness of the accumulated 
sinter. This method, although the one which would perhaps first sug- 
gest itself, is in my opinion by no means as satisfactory as the geo- 
logical reasoning already given. It is unsatisfactory because no uni- 
form rate of dei)osition can be ascertained for even a single area, like 
the r))])er Geyser Basin, audit is still more dilficult to arrive at any 
conclusion as to the growth of the sinter in the past. Moreover, it is 
quite possible that heavy deposits may have suftered erosion before the 


present sinter was laid down. It however corroborates other meth- 
ods and possesses the advantage of being a direct way. 

It may be well to add here that there exists the greatest contrast 
between the deposits of the Mammoth Hot Springs and those found 
upon the plateau. At the Mammoth Springs they are nearly ])\\ve 
travertine, with only a trace of silica, analyses showing from 95 to 99 
per cent of calcium carbonate. On the plateau, the deposits consist 
for the most part of siliceous sinter, locally termed "geyserite." The 
reason for the difference is this : At the Mammoth Hot Springs the 
steam, although ascending from fissures in the igneous rock, comes in 
contact with the waters found in the Mesozoic strata, which here form 
the surface rocks. The Jura or Cretaceous limestones liave furuished 
the lime held in solution and precipitated on the surface as travertine. 
On the other hand, the mineral constituents of the plateau waters are 
derived almost exclusively from the highly acidic lavas, which, as it 
will be seen by reference to the analyses, carry but a small amount of 

Deposition of sinter from the hot waters of the geyser basins de- 
pends in a great measure on the amount of silica held in solution, 
which varies considerably at the different localities and may have 
varied still more in past time. The silica, as determined by analyses, 
ranges from .22 to .60 grammes per kilogramme of water, the former 
being the amount found in the water of the caldron of the Excelsior 
Geyser and the latter at the Coral Spring in the I^Torris Basin. Analysis 
shows that from one-fifth to one-tliird of the mineral matter held in so- 
lution consists of silica, the remaining constituents being readily solu 
ble salts carried off by surface drainage. A few springs highly charged 
with silica, like the Coral, deposit it on the cooling of the waters; but 
such springs however are exceptional, and I do not recall a single in- 
stance of a spring in the Upper Geyser Basin precipitating silica in this 
way. At most springs and geysers it results only after evaporation, 
and not from mere cooling of the water. It seems probable thai the 
nature and amount of alkaline chlorides and carbonates present influ- 
ence the separation of silica. Temperature ■ also may in some degree 
infiueuce the deposition. My friend, Mr. Elwood Hofer, one of the best 
guides to this region and a keen observer of nature, has called my 
attention to an observation of his made in mid-winter, while on one of 
his snow-shoe trips through the Park. He noticed that certain over- 
flow jjools of spring water, upon being frozen, deposited a considerable 
amount of mineral matter. He has sent me specimens of this material, 
which, upon examination, proved to be identical with the silica depos- 
ited from the Coi al Spring upon thecoolingof the water. Demijohns of 
gej'ser water which have been standing for one or two years have failed 
to precipitate any silica. Quite rei-ently, in experimenting n\)on these 
M'aters in the laboratory, it was noticed that on reducing them nearly 
to the freezing point no change took place, but upon freezing the waters 


there was iiii abmulant sepaiatioii of tVec silica. The waters frozen in 
this way Avere eoHeeted from the ('oral Spriiiy, Norris r>asiii, and the 
Taurus (Tcyser, Shoshone Basin. 

Ag'ain, there is no (h)ul»t that the al,ii'ous growths found th»urishing 
in the hot waters of the Park favor the secretion of silica and exert an 
iutluenee in buildiug* np the geyserite far greater than one would at 
tirst be led to suppose. These low forms of vegetable life occur in 
nearly all ])ools, springs, and running waters, up to a temperature of 
185° F. (only lo° beh)w the boiling point), at the Upper (Jeyser Basin. 
If time permitted, much might b(i said on this subject. I will only add 
that Mr. Walter PI. Weed, in eonnection with his other duties on the 
Geological Survey, has devoted much tiuje to a study of these algous 
growths, and the results of his investigations will form an important 
chapter in the linal publications. 

Several methods have been devised for ascertaining the growth of 
deposition of the geyserite. One way is by allowing the water to 
trickle over twigs, dried grasses, or almost anything exposing consid- 
erable surface, and noting the amount of incrustation. This way 
gives the most rapid results, but is far from satisfactory and by no 
means reproduces the conditions existing in nature. Other methods 
employed are i)lacing obje(;ts on the surface of the water or, still 
better, partially submerging them in the hot ])ools, or again by allow- 
ing the water to run down an inclined plane with frequent intervals 
for evaporation and concentration. 

The vaiulals who deliglit to inscribe their names in publi<' places 
have invaded the geyser basins in large numbers and left their 
addresses upon the geyserite in various places. It is interesting to 
note how ([uickly these inscriptions beconu' indelible by the deposition 
of the merest lilm of silica upon the lead-Dcncil marks, and, at the 
same time, how sh)wly they build up. Names and dates known to be 
six and eight years old remain ])erfcctly legil)h', and still retain the 
coh)r and luster of the graphite. That there is some increase in the 
thickness of the incrustation is evident, although it grows with 
incredil)le slowness. Mr. Weed tells me that he has been able, in at 
least oiu', instancM', to chip olf this siliceous tilm and reproduce the 
writing with all its original distinctness, showing conclusively that a 
slow deposition has taken place. I*encil inscriptions upon the sili- 
ceous sinter at llotomahana Lake, in New Zealand, are said to be 
legible after th(^ hi))se of twenty or thirty years. It is easy to see 
that various ingenious <levices might be planned to estimate the rate 
of dei)osition, ])ut in my oj)inion none of them e(pial a close study 
of the conditions found in nature, especially wheie investigations of 
this kind can be watched from year to year. All observations show 
an exceedingly slow building up of the geyserite formation. Tiiis is 
Avell seen in the repair going on where the rims snri'ounding tlu^ hot 
pools have been broken down, and where it might be supposed that 
H. Mis. 114 10 


the building-up process was under the most favorable conditions; yet, 
in a. number of instances, I can see no appreciable change in three or 
four years. Ile-visiting hot springs in out-of-the-way places after 
several years' absence, I am surprised to see that objects that I had 
noted carefully at the time remain unchanged. Taking the entire 
area of the Ui)per Geyser Basin covered by sinter, I believe that the 
development of the deposit does not exceed one-thirtieth of an inch a 
year, and this estimate I believe to be much nearer the maximum than 
the minimum rate of growth. The thickness of the geyserite has 
never been ascertained; the greatest thickness measured is 70 feet, 
the depth reached in the conduit of Old Faithful geyser, without 
meeting any obstruction. Supposing the deposit around the Castle 
geyser to have been built up with the same slowness as observed 
to-day, and assuming it to grow at the rate given — one-thirtieth of 
an inch a year--it would re(|uire over twenty-flve thousand years to 
reach its i)resent development. This gives us a great antiquity for the 
geyserite, but I believe that the deposition of the siliceous sinter in 
the Park has been goi/ig on for a still longer period of time. It is 
certain that the decomposition of the rhyolite of the plateau dates 
still further back. 

From a geological j)oint of view, there is abundant evidence that ther- 
mal energy is gradually becoming extinct. Tourists re-visiting the Park 
after an absence of two or three years occasionally allude to the springs 
and geysers as being less active than formerly and as showing indica- 
tions of rapidly dying out. It is true that slight changes are con- 
stantly taking place, that certain springs become extinct or discharge 
less water, but this action is fully counterbalanced by increased activity 
in other localities. Close examination of the source of the thermal 
waters fails to detect any diminution in the supply. Moreover, it stands 
to reason that if the flow of these waters dated — geologically sY)eaking — 
far back into the i)ast, the few years embraced within the historical 
records of the Park would be unable to indicate any i)erceptible change 
based upon a gradual diminution of the heat.* Accurate descriptions 
of the region go back only to 1871, the year of the first exploration by 
Dr. F. V. Hay den. 

The number of geysers, hot springs, mud-i3ots, and paint-pots scat- 
tered over the Park exceeds o,.")00, and if to these be added the fumaroles 
and solfataras from which issue in the aggregate enormous volnmes of 
steam and acid and sulphur vapors, the number of active vents would 
in all in-obability be doubled. Each one of these vents is a center of 
decomposition of the acid lavas. In the four principal geyser basins the 
geysers in action — or known to have been active within the past sixteen 
years — nnmbered 84. The following list comprises all the geysers that 
are known in the Norris, Lower, Midway, and Upper Geyser Basins. 










N'oiMMs (Jkvsku I>a>in. — IL 

{''isanre, Monaicli, 

Growler, Pearl, 

linrrieane. Pebble, 

Minute. Schliimmk«!ssel, 

IvOWKU (Jkysf.k Basix. — 17. 

(ireat I'ountaiti. Pink Cone, 

Impulsi\c, Kosette. 

Jet. S]>asni, 

Mound. Spray. 

Xarcissns. Stea<h-. 

Midway Gkvski; i'.asin. — I. 
I'lood. Rahl)itt, Tronip. 

Ul'TKU (4KYSEK liASIX. — 4^1. 


White Dome 





Bee Hive, 










Old Faithful, 













Three Sisters, 



Saw Mill, 



















A coin])arativ<' study of tlu' analyses of the fresh rliyolite, the vari- 
ous tiaiisitiou-products, and the thermal waters points clearly to the 
fact that the solid contents of these waters are derived for the most 
part from the volcanic rocks of the plateau. I )uriuj;' the progress of 
the work of the (leolo^ical Survey in the Yellowstone Park there have 
been collected from nearly all tlic more impiu'tant localities samples of 
the waters, which have been subjected to searching chemical analyses 
in the laborat<uy of the Survey, by Messrs. F. A. (looch and d. K. Whit- 
tield; the lesults of wliosc work will be published at an early date. 

The foUowini;- analyses of hot waters Irom tlu^ three princi[)al geyser 
basins serve to show their chemical composition: 


Silica 0-4685 

Sulph. acid 0923 

Carbonic acid (I vnfiS 

Boracic acid -OSIT 

Arsenious acid -0018 

Chlorine, -5740 

BromiDe Trace 

Hydr. sulpli None 

Oxygen (basic) ' -0048 

Iron I Trace 

Manganese ' None 

Aluminium '0185 

Calcium I 0-0146 

Constant Geyser. 

per kilo 
of water. 

Potassium . . 



Ammonium . 
Hydr. (HCl) 


Rubidium . . 

Total . 


Per cent 
of total 
matter in 

Hygeia Spring 

pel kilo 
of water. 


35 -39 


100 -00 


Per cent 
of total 
matter in 

20 -98 

•24 -62 

21 -00 

Old Faithful. 

per kilo 
of water. 




Per cent 
of totiil 
matter in 

27 -52 
1 -09 




100 -00 

Constant Geyser, Norris Geyser Basin. Date of collection, September 13, 1885; temperature, 198° 
F. ; reaction, slightly acid; specific gravity, 1-0011. 

Hygeia Spring, Lower Geyser Basin. Date of collection, September 11. 1885; tcmiioratiire, 109^ F. ; 
reaction, alkaline; specific gravity, 1-0010. 

Old Faithful Geyser, Uiiper Gey.ser Basin. Date of collection, September 1, 1884; temperature, 100^ 
F. ; reaction, alkaline; sjiecific gravity, 1-00096. 

They are all siliceous alkaline waters lioldiiig' the same mineral con 
stituents, but in varying qnautities. SiHca forms the principal deposit 
not only immediately around the springs, but over the entire floor of 
the basins. The carbonates, sulphates, chlorides, and traces of other 
easily soluble salts are carried off in the waters. Oxides of iron and 
manganese and occasionally some calcite occur under certain condi- 
tions in the cauldrons of the hot springs or immediately around their 
vents. Concentrations from large quantities of these waters tail to 
show the presence of even a trace of copper, silver, tin or other metal. 
Nearly all the waters carry arsenic, the amount present, according to 
Messrs. Gooch and Whitfield, varying from .02 to .25 per cent of tbe 
mineral matter in solution. 

Among the incrustations found at several of the hot springs and 
geysers is a leek-green amorphous mineral, which proves on investiga- 
tion to bescorodite, a hydrous arseniate of iron. The best occurrence 
observed is at Joseph's Coat Springs, on the east side of the Grand 
Canon of the Yellowstone, where it occurs as a coating upon tlie sili- 
ceous sinter lining the cauldron of a boiling spring. Analysis shows 

a nearly i)uit' scoroditc. agieeiug' closely with the theoretical composi- 

*:ioii : 

Ferric oxide 34. 94 

Arsenic acid 48. 79 

Water 16. 27 

100. 00 

Alteration of the scorodite into linionite takes place i-eadily, which 
in turn nnderi;«>es disintegration by the wea-rini;- of the water, and is 
mechanically carried away. So far as I know this is the only occur- 
rence where scorodite has been recognized as deposited from the 
waters of thermal si)rings. Although i)ure scorodite is only sparingly 
preserved at a few localities in the Yellowstone Park, it is easily recog- 
nized by its characteristic green color, in strong- contrast with the 
white geyserite and yellow and red oxides of iron. After a little 
piactice the mineral green of scoro<lite is not easily mistaken for the 
vegetable green of the algeous growths. The latter is associated every- 
where with the hot waters, while the former, an exceedingly rare min- 
eral, is obtained only in small quantities after diligent search. In 
xVmerica traces of arsenic have been reported from several springs in 
Virginia, and quite recently sodium arseniate has been detected in the 
hot s])rings of Ashe County, N. C. Arsenical waters of sufticient 
strength to be beneficial for remedial purposes and not otherwise 
deleterious ai'e of rare occurrence. In France the curative properties 
of aisenical waters have long been recognize<l, and the famons sani- 
taiiuni of La Ijourbonle in the volcanic district of tlu^ Auvergne has 
achiexed a wide reputation for the el'licacy of its waters in certain 
tbrins of nervous diseases. Ilygeia Springs, supplying the bath houses 
at the hotel in the Lower Oeyser Basin, carries .'.i of a grain of sodium 
arseniate to the gallon. The Yellowstone Park waters, while they 
carry somewhat less arsenic than those of La I>ourboide, greatly excel 
the latter in their enormous overflow. It is stated that the entire 
discharge from the sjjrings of La Bourboule, amounts to 1,500 gallons 
per minute. The amount of hot water brought to the surface by the 
hot springs throughout the ])ark is by no means easily determined, 
although during the i)rogress of our investigations we hope to make 
an approximate estimate. Some idea of the amount of hot water 
bionght to the surface ami carried off by the great drainage channels 
may b*; tbrmed at the Midway Basin. According to the most accurate 
measurements which could be made, the discharge from the caldron 
of the Excelsior Geyser into the Firehole Kiver during the pa-st sea- 
son amounted to 4, 100 gallons of boiling water ])er minute, and there 
is no evidence that this amount has \aried within the last two or three 
years. The sample of the Excelsior Geyser winter collected August 
25, 1884, yielde<l .19 grains of sodium arseniati^ to the gallon. It is 
impossible to say as yet what curative i)roi)erties these park waters 


may possess in alleviating' the ills of mankind. Nothiug but an 
extended experience under proper medical supervision can determine. 
I may say that no hot si)riuys with which I am acquainted prove so 
delightful for bathing purposes and so agreeable in their action upon 
the skin. 

Changes modifying the surface features of the park in recent times 
are mainly those brought about by the tilling ui> with detrital material 
from the mountains, the valleys and depressions worn out by glacial ice, 
and those produced by the prevailing climatic conditions. Between the 
park country and what is known as the arid regions of the West there 
is the greatest possible contrast. Across the park plateau and the 
Absaroka range the country presents a continuous mountain mass 
75 miles in width, with an average elevation unsurpassed by any area 
of equal extent in the northern Eocky Mountains. It is exceptionally 
situated to collect the moisture-laden clouds, which coming from the 
southwest precipitate immense quantities of snow and rain upon the 
cooled table-land and neighboring mountains. The climate in many 
respects is quite unlike that found in the adjacent country, as is 
shown by the meteorological records, the amount of snow and rainlall 
being higher, and the mean annual temperature lower. Eain storms 
occur frequently throughout the summer, while snow is quite likely to 
fall any time between September and May. Protected by the forests 
the deep snows of winter lie upon the plateau well into mid-summer, 
while at still higher altitudes, in sheltered places, it remains throughout 
the year. By its topographical structure the park is designed by 
nature as a reservoir for receiving, storing, and distril)uting an excep- 
tional water supply, unexcelled by any area near the head-waters of the 
great continental rivers. The Continental Divide, separating the 
waters of the Atlantic from those of the Pacific, crosses the park 
plateau from southeast to northwest. On both sides of this divide lie 
several large bodies of water which form so marked a future in the 
scenery of the plateau that the region has been designated the lake 
country of the park. Yellowstone Lake, the largest lake in North 
America at this altitude (7,740 feet) and one of the largest in the world 
at so high an elevation above sea-level, presents a superficial area of 
139 square miles, and a shore-line of nearly 100 miles. From measure- 
ments made near the outlet of the lake in September, 188(5, tiie driest 
period of the year, the discharge was found to be 1,525 cubic feet per~ 
second, or about 34,000,000 imperial gallons per hour. 

At the same time all the priucij^al lakes and streams in the park 
were carefully gauged. Dr. William Ilallock, who undertook this work, 
estimated that the amount of water running into the park and leaving 
it by the Yellowstone, (xallatin, Madison, Snake, and Falls rivers, the 
five main drainage channels, would be equivalent to a stream 5 feet 
deep, 190 feet wide, with a current of 3 miles per hour, and that over 
an area of 4,000 square miles the minimum discharge was equal to 1 


cubic foot per second ])or square mile. For tlie ] (reservation and regu- 
lation of this water supply tlie forest, wliicli covers the mountains, 
valleys, and table-lands, and everywhere borders upon the lake sliores, 
is of inestimabh^ value. Of the jtreseut park area about 84 per cent is 
forest clad, almost wholly made up of coniferous trees. The timber is 
by no means of the finest <|uality, but foi- tlie i»uri)osc of water protec 
tion it meets every jjossible requirement. IMucli has been said of Iiit«' 
years by scientilic and ex])erienced i)ersons of the great necessity ot 
preserving the forests near the sources of our great rivers. It is mainly 
for the forest i»rotection that the proposed <'nlargement is demanded 
by the public welfare. In my oi>inion no region in tlie Kocky JMount- 
ains is so admirably adapted lor a forest reservation as tlie Yellowstone 
National Park. 


By Arnold Hauue, 

I'. S. CcdUxjUul Surrey. 

At the Buft'alo meet in ji, October, 1S8S, Dr. Kayinoiul jtieseiited a 
paper entitled '* Soai)inji' (ieysers," in wliieh lie called attentioii to the 
use of soap by tourists to cause eruptions of several of the well-known 
geysers in the Yellowstone Park. Incorporated in this paper appears 
a conimuuication received from me, written from camp in the park, in 
rei)ly to some inquiries on the subject. The letter discussed somewhat 
briefly the means employed by visitors to the park to hasten the erup- 
tions from hot springs and reservoirs of hot water, which remain dor- 
numt for days, or even weeks or months, at a tempera tn re near the 
boiling-point, without any <lisi)lay of geyser-action. As the jiapcr lias 
called forth considerable comment, L desire to elucidate one or two 
points in relation to tlie temjieratnre of the springs, and to answer 
some incpiiries about the composition of the thermal wateis. 

In the summer of 188r>, a Chinaman, employed as ii laiindryman for 
the accommodation of the t(»nrists at the Upper (leyser Uasin, acci- 
dentally discovered, much to his aniazenuMit, that soap thrown into the 
si)ring from which he was a<'Custonu'd to draw his su])i)ly of water 
l)roduced ail eruption in every way similar to the actual workings of 
a geyser. Tourists, with limited time at their command, who had 
travelled thousands of miles to look u])on the wonders of the Yellow- 
stone, soon fell into the way of coaxing the laundrynuin's spring into 
action, to [)artly compensate them for their sore <lisaiipointm«'nt in 
witnessing only the periodical eruptions of Old Faithful. Successful 
attempts upon this spring soon led to various endeavors to accelerate 
action in the dornnmt and more famous geysers, in a short tinu^, so 
poi)ular became the desiic to stimulate geysers in tiiis way, that the 
park authorities were compelled to enforce rigidl\' tlie nih- against 
throwing oitjects of any kind into the springs. 

In connection with a thorough investigation of the thermal waters 
of the Yellowstone l*ark and tiie ])henoraena of the geyers, I under- 

* Read at New York iiiecitiuf^- of the American Institute of Miuiiii; Kn^iiicors, 
February, 1889. (From Trann. Am. lust. Minhiy Engineers.) 



took a number of experiments to ascertain the action of soap upon the 
Avaters and to determine, if possible, those physical conditions of 
various pools and reservoirs which permitted the hastening of an erup- 
tion by the employment of any artificial methods. This investigation, 
conducted from time to tiuie, as opportunity oft'ered, throughout the 
field-season of 1885, included experiments ui)on the geysers ami hot 
si)riugs <»f the iri)])er. Lower, and Norris geyser basins. The results 
proved, beyond all question, that geyser-action could be forced in a 
number of ways, but most conveniently by the application of soap. 
The greater part of the more powerful geysers undergo no perceptible 
change with a moderate use of soap, although several of them may, 
under favorable i)hysical conditions, be thrown at times into violent 
agitation. In most of the experiments, Lewis's concentrated lye, put 
up in one-half pound cans f<n^ laundry purposes, was employed. Each 
package furnished a- strong alkali, equivalent to several bars of soap. 
In this form alkali is more easily handled than in bars of soap, more 
especially where it is required to produce a viscous fluid in the larger 
reservoirs; and, in conducting a series of experiments for comparative 
inirposes, it seemed best, in most instances, to employ the same agent 
to bring about the desired results. 

Old Faithful, the model geyser of the i)ark, exhibits such marked 
regularity in its workings that attem])ts to hasten its action appear 
futile. The interval between erui)tions is about sixty-five minutes, 
and rarely exceeds the extreme limits of fifty-seven and seventy-two 
minutes. After an eruption of Old Faithful, the reservoir fills up 
gradually; the water steadily increases in temperature; .and conditions 
favorable to another eruption arc produced under circumstances pre- 
cisely similar to those which have brought about the displays for the 
past eighteen years, or as far back as we have authentic records. The 
few experiments which have been made upon Old Faithful are insuffi- 
cient to aft'ord any results bearing on the question; but it seems proba- 
ble that soon after the water attains the necessary temperature an 
eruption takes place. 

Of all the powerful geysers in the park, the Bee-Hive offers the 
most favorable conditions for producing an eruption by artificial means, 
all the more striking because the luitural displays are so fitful that 
they can not be predicted with any degree of certainty. Observations, 
extending over a period of several years, have failed to determine any 
established law of periodicity for the Bee-Hive, even for three or four 
consecutive months, although they indicate that some relationship may 
exist between its display and those of the famous Giantess. Frequently 
the Bee-Hive Avill play several times a day and then beconu^ dormant, 
showing no signs of activity for weeks and months, although the water 
may stand above the boiling-point the greater part of the time. The 
name Bee-Hive was suggested by the symmetry of the cone built 
around the vent. It rises about 4 feet above the sloping mound of 


geyseritc, and hi cross-section measures about o feet at the toj). while at 
the bottom of I he cone the Aent is less tbau 10 inches in width. From 
the toj) of this narrow vent it is only possible to sink a Aveijiiit 17 feet 
l)eforc strikiuii' a ])roJecting Icdj^e, Avhich interferes with all cxanuna- 
tion of the ground below. The constant boiling and bubbling of the 
water, the irregularity of its action, and the convenient location of the 
geyser, within an easy walk from the hotel, make attempts to acceler- 
ate the erui)tions of the I>ee-IIive most attractive to tourists. 

In most instances such efforts are futile ; yet success does so fre- 
quently reward the astonished traveller that, unless the geyser were 
carefully watched by the authorities, attempts would be nuule daily 
throughout the season. If the conditions are favorable to an eruption, 
it usually takes place in from ten to twenty-five minutes after the addi- 
tion of laundry soap or lye. It is doubtful if more than two eru])tions 
of the Bee-Hive have ever been i)r()duced on the same day by aitifi- 
cial means, although I know of no reason, based niton tlu' structure 
of the geyser, why more displays might not be obtained, for the 
reservoir and vent fill up witii boiling water very rapidly after each 

Although the Giantess is situated only 400 feet from the Bee- 
Ilive, these two differ in surface and under-ground structure and 
mode of action as widely as any two of the more prominent geysers 
of the Park. Around the (riantess no cone or mound has formed. 
The broad basin is only partially rimmed in by a luirrow fringe 
of siliceous sinter, lising above and extending out over the deep 
blue water. At the surface this basin measures about 15 to 20 feet 
in width by 20 to 30 feet in length. It has a funnel-shaped caldron, 
30 feet in depth, ending in a vertical vent or neck, 12 feet deep, 
thi-ough which a sounding-lead maybe dropped into a second reservoir, 
meeting a jtrojeeting ledge or obstruction of some kind, 01 feet below 
the surface. After an outburst of the (liantess, the basin, wliich has 
been com]>letely emptied of its water, gradually fills again to the 
toj) : and, for days belore another eruption, a steady stream of hot 
water ov<'rllows the brim. The intervals between the eruptions of the 
Cliantess \;\\y from twehe to twenty days, and the <lisi)lays last sev- 
eral hours, being unsurj)assed for violence and grandeur by any geyser 
in the U])]>er Basin. Artificial nn'ans have never bi'cu successful in 
bringing this geyser into action, although, jbr days before an erup- 
tion, it is an easy matter to cause an agitation of the water by tin-ow- 
ing into the basin small ])ieces of sinter, or to ])roduce a boiling on 
the surface, lasting several minutes, by sim])ly stirring the water with 
a stick. 

The Giant, one of the most violent of the geysers in the llppeii" 
Basin, more closely resembles the liee-Hive than any other of those 
iilong the Firehole Kiver. It has built up a cone 10 feet in height, 
one side of which has been partly broken down by some eruption more 


violent than any witnessed at the jneseut day. Through this notched 
side, steam and broken jets of water are constantly emitted ; and on 
this account but little examination has been made of the underground 
reservoirs and vents. The Giant is litful in its a<*tion, at times playing 
Avith considerable regularity every fourteen days, and at other times 
lying dormant for nearly a year. I have no positive knowledge that 
an erujition of the Giant has ever been produced by any other than 
natural causes. At the time of my experiments no eruption of the 
Giant had taken place for several mouths, although the water was 
constantly agitated, so mnch so that it was quite impossible to exam- 
ine the vent with any satisfactory results. The only effect produced 
by the application of lye Mas additional height to the eolumn of water 
thrown ont and a decided increase in the thum])ing and violence of 
the boiling. 

In the Lower Basin, the Fountain has been more carefully studied 
than the other geysers ; and, its action and periodicity of eruptions 
having been fairly well ascertained, it afforded the most favorable 
conditions for observing the action of soap and lye upon the Avaters. 
In its general structure the Fountain belongs to the type of the 
(Tiantess, having a funnel-shaped caldron which, long before an 
eruption, overflows into an adjoining basin. At the time of my ex- 
periments upon the Fountain, the intervals between eruptions lasted 
about four hours. This interval allowed sufticient time to note any 
changes Avhich might take place. My own experiments Avith lye 
yielded no positive results ; although it seemed highly i»r<)bablc that 
action might be hastened by the ap]>lication of soap or lye just before 
the time for an eruption, or when, for some cause, the eruption Avas 
overdue. 1 preferred to make the attempt to bring about an exi^losion 
before the usual time, only Avaiting until the AA^ater in the pool had 
nearly reached the boiling-point. All exiieriments failed. The pre- 
vious year, Avhen wishing to produce action for the purpose of photog- 
raphy, I AA^as enabled to accomi)lish the desiied result by A'igorously 
stirring with a slender pole, the water near the top of the vent con- 
necting Avitli the lower reserA'^oir. In this instance, it should be said, 
the usual interval of time between eruptions had long since passed; 
the geyser AAas, so far as time was concerned, a half-hour overdue. 
My opinion now^ is that the experiments Avith lye failed because the 
temperature had scarcely reached the boiling point. 

The Monarch, in the Norris Basin, is quite unlike those already 
described, and affords evidence of being a much ncAver geyser. It is 
formed by two coiiA^ergent fissures, on the line of a narrow seam in the 
rhyolite, probably coming together below the surface. The main vent 
measures about 20 feet in length and, at the surface, 3 feet in width. 
But slight incrustation is found around the vent, the conditions not 
being favorable to deposition. In this narrow fissure the AA^ater, Avhich 
ordinarily stands about 15 feet beloAv the surface, constantly surges 


and boils, ex('e[)t iininediatoly after au eruption. The intervals be- 
tween eraptions vary somewhat from year to year; but at the time of 
these experiments the action was fairly regular, t\n) geyser playing 
every four hours. [ was successful in obtaining an eruption (juite equal 
to the natural displays, which throw a column of water oU feet into 
the air. Here at the Monarch there is no surface reservoir, and the 
narrow fissure, filled with loose blocks of rocks around which the 
water is in constant agitation, prevents all measurements of depth. 

Tlie results of the many experiments, not only upon active geysers 
but upon a large number of hot springs, determine fairly well the 
essential conditions which render it possible to bring about geyser 
action by artificial means. Negative results are frequently as valuable 
for this inquiry as experiments yielding imposing displays. 

Outside of a few exceptional instances, which could not be repeated, 
and in which action was probably only anticipated by a few minutes 
in time, geyser eruptions produced by soap or alkali appear to demand 
two essential requirements: First, the surface caldron or reservoir 
should liold but a small amount of water, exposing only a limited area 
to the atmosphere; second, the water should stand at or above the 
boiling point of water for the altitude of the geyser basin above vsea 
level. The i)rincipal factor which makes it possibles to cause an 
eruption artificially is, I think, the super-heated and unstalde condi- 
tion of the surface waters. Many of the geysers and hot springs pre- 
sent singular phenomena of pools of water heated above the theoret- 
ical boiling point, and, unless disturbed, frequently remain so for 
many days without exhibiting any signs of ebullition. It may not be 
easy to describe accurately these super-heated waters; but anyone 
who has studied the hot springs and pools in tlie Park and carefully 
lujted the tem[)eratures, (juickly learns to recognize the peruliar i\\). 
pearance of tliese basins when heated above the boiling point. They 
look as if they were "ready to boil," except tliat tlie surface remains 
placid, oidy interrupted by numerous steam-bubbles, rising through 
the water from below and bursting (|uietly upon reaching the surface. 

Marcet, the French physicist, lias specially investigated the phenom- 
ena of super-heated waters, and has succeeded in attaining a tcmjjera- 
tureof 105° ('. befm-e ebullition. Super-heated waters in nature, how- 
ever, appear to have been scarcc^ly recognized, except during the prog- 
ress of the work in the Velh)wstone Park, in connection with a study 
of the geysers. The altitudes of the geyser basins above sea-level 
Inive been ascertained by long series of barometric readings, contin- 
ued through several seasons. In conducting a series of observations 
i.pon th(^ boiling ))oints of th(i thermal waters in the Park, Dr. Wil- 
liam Ilallock, who had charge of this special investigation, deter- 
mined the theoretical boiling-point by noting the mean daily readings 
oC the mercurial colum!i. The exact boiling-point of a i)ure surface- 
water, obtained from a neighboring mountain stream and the boiling- 


point of tlie thermal waters from the springs, were determhied from 
actual experiments by heating over a lire, employing every possible 
precaution to avoid sources of error. Surface waters and deep-seated 
mineral waters gave the same results, and coiucided with the calcu- 
lated boilingi^oint at this altitude. Hundreds of observations have 
been carefully taken where the waters in the active and running 
springs boiled at temperatures between 198° and 199o F. 

As will be shown later in this paper, the thermal waters are solu. 
tions of mineral matter too dilute to be affected to any appreciable 
extent as regards their boiling-point by their dissolved contents. The 
theoretical boiling-point for the springs and pools in the Upper Geyser 
Basin may be taken at 92.5° 0. (198.5 F.). In many of the large cal- 
drons, where the water remains quiet, a temperature has been recorded 
of 94° C. (201.2° F.) without the usual phenomena of boiling. This 
gives a body of super-heated water, with a temperature at the surface 
1.5° 0. (2.7° F.) above the point necessary to produce explosive action. 
Thermometers plunged into the basins show slightly varying tempera- 
tures, dependent upon their position in the basin. They indicate the 
existence of numerous currents, and a very unstable equilibrium of 
the heated waters, which are liable, under slight changes, to burst 
forth with more or less violence. It is under these conditions that geyser 
action can be accelerated by artificial means. If into one of these 
super-heated basins a handful of sinter pebbles be thrown, or the sur- 
face of the water be agitated by the rapid motion of a stick or cane, 
or even by lashing with a rope, a liberation of steam ensues. This is 
liable to be followed by a long boiling of water in the pool, which iu 
turn may lead to geyser action. There is some reason to believe that, 
at least in one instance, an eruption has been brought about by a violent 
but temporary gust of wind, which either ruffled the water or disturbed 
the equilibrium of the pool, and changed momentarily the atmospheric 

In Iceland travellers liave long been accustomed to throw into the 
geysers turf and soft earth from the bogs and meadows which abound 
in the neighborliood, the eftect produced being much the same as tliat 
of sinter pebbles and gravel upon the geysers in the National Park. 
So well was this understood that at one time a peasant living ueiU' the 
Iceland locality kept a shovel solely for the accommodation of those 
visiting the geysers. 

In my letter to Dr. Ilaymond 1 mention the curious fact that the 
Laundryman's Spring, now known as the Chinaman, in which geyser 
action may most easily be produced by artificial means, has never been 
regarded by the Geological Survey as anything but a hot spring, and 
]io one has ever seen it in action without the application of soap, ex- 
cept in one instance, when it was made to ])lay to a height of 20 feet 
after stirring it vigorously with a pine bough for nearly ten minutes. 
In our records it is simply known as a spring. 


If soap or lye is tliiowii into most of the small pools, a viseous tluid 
is formed; and viscosity is, I think, the piineipal cause in hastening 
geyser action, Mscosity must tend to the retention of steam within 
the basin, and, as in the case of the super-heated waters, where the 
temperature stands at or above the boiling point, explosive liberation 
must follow. All alkaline solutions, whether in the laboratory or in 
nature, exhibit, by reason of this viscosity, a tendency to bump and 
boil irregularly. Viscosity in these hot springs must also tend to tiie 
formation of bubbles and foam when the steam rises to the surface, 
and this in turn aids to bring about the explosive action, followed l)y a 
relief of pressure, and thus to hasten the final and more powerful dis- 
play. Of course relief of pressure of the superincumbent waters upon 
the column of water below the surface basin is essential to all eruptive 
action. These conditions, it seems to me, are purely physical. Un- 
doubtedly the fatty substances contained in soap aid the alkali in ren- 
dering the water viscous. On the other hand, when concentrated lye 
is used it acts with greater eneigy and furnishes a viscous fluid, where 
soap would yield only surface suds insufficient to accomplish any phe- 
nomenal display. 

It is well known that saturated solutions of mineral substances 
raise the boiling-point very considerably, the temperature having been 
determined for many of the alkaline salts. Fn general, I believe the 
boiling-point increases in proportion to the amount of salt held in solu- 
tion. Actual tests have shown that the normal boiling-point of sili- 
ceous waters in the Park does not differ appreciably fi'om the ordinary 
surface waters, mainly, I suppose, because they are extremely dilute 

The amount of lye required to produce a sufficiently viscous condi- 
tion of the waters increases but slightly the percentage of mineral 
matter held in solution. 

All the waters of the principal geyser basins ])resent the closest 
resemblance in chemical composition, and, for the purposes of this 
paper, may be considered as identical in their constituents. They have 
a common origin, being, for the most jiart, surface waters which have 
percolated downward for a sufficient distance to come in contact with 
large volumes of steam ascending from still greatei- depths. The min- 
eral contents of the hot s])rings are mainly derived from the acid lavas 
of the Park plateau, as the resnlt of the action of the ascending steam 
and sui»er-heated waters upon the rocks below. These thermal waters 
are essentially siliceous alkaline water, carrying the same constituents 
in somewhat varying (luantities, but always dilute solutions, ne\'er ex- 
ceeding two grams of mineral matter per kilogram of water. When 
cold they are potable waters, for the most part slightly alkaline to the 
taste, and probably wholesome enough, unless taken daily for a long- 
period of time. 

The following analyses of three geyser waters, sele<;ted from the 



Upper, Lower, iiud Xorris geyser basins, may serve to show the com- 
position of all of tbeni, the differences which exist being equally well 
marked in the analyses of any two waters from the same geyser basin. 

Bee-Hive Geyser. 

per kilo 
of water. 

Per cent 
of total 

0. 3042 



Sulphuric acid 

Carbouic acid 

Plio-sphoric acid 

Boracic acid 

Arsenious acid 





Hydr. sulph 

Oxygen (basic) . 0364 

Iron Trace 

Manganese i 










25. 12 
2. 24 

Fountain Geyser, j Fearless Geyser. 

. 0029 

.. 0002 
. 0061 
. 00021 




per kilo 
of water. 

. 2307 
. 00004 


2.1. 74 

. 0054 

. 0379 
. 0035 
. 00015 

Per cent 

of total t „„ 1 ;i., 


I of water. 

23. 69 0. 4180 

1.39 ; .0367 

16.48 i .0046 

Per cent 
of total 
matter in 

2. 25 


.99 : .0223 

. 19 j . 0022 

23.84 .6705 

.03 I .0026 


4.67 .0113 
. 01 . 0006 





25. 16 

. 0002 
. 0092 
. 0001 
. 0415 
. 4046 
. 00025 





2. 54 

100.00 j 1.39979 i 100.00 I 1.63275 100.00 

Bee Hive Geyser, Upper Geyser Basin. Date of < ollcf^tion September 1, 1884; temperature 199. 4*^ 
F. ; reaction, alkaline; specific gravity, 1.0009. 

Fountain Geyser, Lower Geyser Basin. Date of collection, AugusI 24, I8S4; tcnijK^ratnri* 179. O'^ 
F.; reaction, alkaline; .'specific gravity, 1.0010. 

Fearless Geyser, Norris Geyser Basin. Date of (ollection, August 18, 1884; temperature 190. 4° 
F. ; reaction neutral, specifi(^ gravity, 1.0011. 

The differences of temperature shown in these three waters are 
simi^ly due to the varying interval between the time of collection and 
the last preceding eruption of the geyser. In the case of the Fountain, 
the water rises in a large open basin, which slowly fills np, increasing 
in temperature until the time of the eruption, the form of the basin per- 
mitting the collection of the water two or three hours before the next 
outburst. In the case of the Fearless the surface reservoir is a shaHow, 
saucer-shaped basin, into wliich the water seldom rises before attaining 
a temperature near the boiling-point. At the Bee-Hive the water only 
reaches a sufficiently high level to permit of its collection without 
difticulty when the temperature stands at or near the boiling-i)oiiit. 

Dv. Raymond has made the suggestion that the addition of caustic 
alkali would possibly precipitate some of the mineral ingredients found 


in these watervS, tlieieby (•liiinyiiii;' their cliciMical coiiijx^.sitioii sufti- 
ciciitly to aft'ect tlie point of cliullition. At the same time he remarks 
tliat the <>eyser waters are probabk too dihite solutions to be niueli 
intiiieneed by such additions. An.None who i^Iances at th(^ analyses of 
the waters of the Hee Hive, b\>untain, and l'\'arless must see, i flunk, 
that they are not only too dilute to undergo any marked ehange of 
teuii)eratuie, but that the mineral eoustitiients consist mainly of tlie 
earbomites and chlorides of the alkalis, associated with a relatively 
large amount of free silica which wouhl remain unaeted upon by caustic 
alkali. There is nothing iu the waters to be thrown down by the 
addition of alkali or permit any chemical condHuations to be formed 
by the addition of a small amount of soaj). The desire of tourists to 
"soap a geyser" during their trip through the Park grows annually 
with the increase of travel, so much so that there is a steady demand 
for the Toilet soap of the hotels. If visitors could have their way, the 
l)eautiful blue springs and basins of the geysers would be "in the 
suds" constantly throughout the season. Throwing anything into the 
hot springs is now prohibited by the Government authorities. It is 
certainly detrimental to the preservation of the geysers, ami the 
practice can not be too strongly condemned by all interested in the 
^N^ational lieservation. 

H. Mis. 114 11 



By G. K. Gilbert. 

Introduction. — For a decade atteutioii has been turned to the con- 
tinents. Through the distribution of animals and plants Wallace has 
studied the history of tlie former conn«K'tion and disconnection of land 
areas. Theories of interchange of land and water have been i)ropounded 
by Suess and Blytt. By means of geodetic data Helmert lias discussed 
the broad relations of the geoid to the theoretic spheroid. Darwin has 
comi^uted tlie strength of terrestrial material necessary to sustain the 
continental domes. .lames Geikie, treating nominally of coast lines, 
has considered the shifting relations of land and sea, and a half score 
of able writers have debated the question of continental permanence. 
The American Society of Naturalists, now holding its annual meeting 
at Princeton, N. J., devoted yesterday's session to the consideration of 
such e\idences of change in the geography of the American continent 
as are contained in the distribution of animals and plants. The inter- 
continental congresses auxiliary to the World's Fair next summer are 
to be devoted to the discussion of continental and inter-continental 
themes ; and a committee, at the head of which stands one of our vice- 
])residents, invites the geologists of the world to assemble for the con- 
sideration of those broader questions of earth structure and earth history 
which aftect more than one hemisphere. This occasion, too, in which, 
after three years' sojourn in the land of the raccoon and the opossum, 
we return to the land of the sable and the beaver, brings forcibly to 
mind tlie continental extent of our society and its continental liekl. It 
is not strange, then, that tlie continents have seemed to me a litting 
tlieme of which to speak to you to-day. Realizing not only the breadth 
and grandeur, but tlie inherent difficulty of the subject, I do not hoi)e 
to enlarge the contril)ution the decade has made, nor shall I attempt 
to summarize it; neither is it my desire to anticipate the discussions 
of the World's Fair congress. It is my pur])ose rather to state, as 
clearly as I may, some of the great unsolved problems which the con- 
ti.nents propound to the coming inter-continental congress of geologists. 

*l'resiileutial address before the (ieological Society of America; delivered Decem- 
ber 30, 1892. (From the Bulletin Geolocj. Sov. of Jin., vol. i\', pp. 179-190.) 




Differentiation of continentid and oeeuniv plateaus. — It is one of the 
paradoxes of the subject that our ideas as to the essential character of 
the continents liave been greatly modified and claritied by the recent 
exploration of the seai. Tlie work, especially, of the Challenger and 
the BlaJce in delineating' and sampling- the bottom of the ocean has 
given new dctinitions, not only to the term ''deep sea, "but also to the 
term "continent," as they are employed by students of terrestrial 
mechanics and of ijhysical geography. To the continental lands are 
now added the continental shoals, and the depth of the deep sea is no 
longer its sole characteristic. Look for a moment at this generalized 
profile of the earth's surface. It expresses in a concise way the rela- 
tions of area to altitude and of both to the level of the sea. Murray, to 
whose generalizations from the Challenf/er dredgings and soundings 
the student of continents owes so much, has computed, with the aid 
of the great body of modern data, the areas of land and ocean bed con- 
tained between certain contours, fourteen in number,* and from his 


♦ 30.000 FT., 

♦20,000 rr. 

• 10.000 FT. 
- i OtOOO FT. 
-5^0.000 FT. 

Figure Ij—Oencralued Profile, showing relative of the Earth's Surface at different Heights and 


figures I have constructed the iHotile. Vertical distances represent 
heights and horizontal distances represent terrestrial areas. The full 
width of the diagram from side to side stands for tlie entire surface of 
the earth. The striking features of the profile are its two terraces or 
horizontal elements. Two-fifths of the earth's area lies between 11,000 
and 10,000 feet beneath the ocean, constituting avast submerged pla- 
teau, whose mean altitude is — 14,000 feet. This is the plateau of the 
deep sea. One-fourth of the earth's area falls between the contour 
5,000 feet above the ocean and the contour 1,000 feet below, and has a 
mean altitude of + 1,000 feet. This is the continental plateau. The two 
plateaus together comprise two-thirds of the earth's surface, the re- 
maining third including the intermediate slopes, the areas of extreme 
and exceptional depth, and the areas of extreme and exceptional height. 

* John Murray: "On tho hei.alii^ of the laud and tlie depth of the ocean." Scottish 
Geograiiliical Mag., vol. iv, 1888, p. I. 



Tims ill the broadest possible way, ;iiul in a iiiaiiiicr iiraclically iiule- 
pendeiit of the distribution of land and water, we have the ocean floor 
clearly differentiated from the continental plateau. It is at once evident 
that for the discussion of the i>Teater terrestrial i)robleiiis connected 
with the configuration of the surface, and especially of the problems of 
terrestrial mechanics, we must substitute for the continents, as limited 
by coasts, the continental plateau, as limited by the margins of the 
continental shoals. 

It does not follow from the profile, which, as 1 have said, represents 
only the relation of extent to altitude, that all districts of continental 
plateau are united in a single body, and in point of fact they are not com- 
jjletely united; but the greater bodies are brought together, and the 
only outlying district is that of the Antarctic continent. Running- a line 
along- the edge of the continental shelf where a gentle slope is exchanged 
for a stec]) one, and passing- freely, as occasion may rcfpiire, from the 
coast down to the line of 1,000 fathoms, a continental outline is pro- 

FlorRE 2.— The contiiunUil iihitcav rt.v related to the Weitern ami h'aat, rn Tfemigphereg. 

duced in which Xorth America and Eurasia are united through the 
shoals of the Arctic ocean, and in Miiich Australia and the greater 
islands of the l^ast Indies are. joined to southwestern Asia. Antarctica 
alone stands separate, being iiarted from South America by a broad 
ocean channel, im])er(ectl\- surveyed asyet, but believed to have a depth 
of between 1,000 and -!,()0() fathoms. The lower plateau, or the floor of 
the deep ocean, is less continuous, being- separated by tracts of moder- 
ate depth into three great bodies, coinciding ap])roximately with the 
Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian oceans. 

Rifjiditi/ versus isosfasij. — The first of our continental problems refers 
to the conditions under Avhich the differentiation of the eaitlTs surfa(;e 
into oceanic and continental ])lateaus is ])ossible. How are the conti- 
nents su])])orted ? l^h^ery i)ait of the oceanic plateau sustains the Aveig-ht 
of the superjacent column of water. At the same level beneath the 
continental idatean each unit of the lithosi)here sustains a column of 
rock both taller and denser than the column of water and weighing 


about three times as much. The differeuce between the two pressures, 
or the dilierential pressure, is about 12,000 pounds to the square iuch, 
aud this force, applied to the entire area of the continental plateau, urges 
it downward and urges the oceanic plateau upward. Referring again to 
the diagram in Figure 1, the entire weight of the continental i)lateau, 
pressing on the track beneath it, tends to produce a transfer of material 
in the direction from left to right, resulting in the lowering of the higher 
plateau and the raising of the lower. To the question, how this tendency 
is counteracted, two general answers have been made: first, that the 
earth, being solid, by its rigidity maintains its form; second, that the 
materials of wliich consist the continental plateau and the underlying 
portions of the lithosphere are, on the whole, lighter than the materials 
underlying the ocean tioor, and that the difference in density is the 
couii)leme]it of the difference in volume, so that at some level horizon 
far below the surface the weights of the superincumbent columns of 
matter are equal. The first answer regards the horizontal variations of 
density in the earth's crust as unimportant 5 the second regards them as 
important. The first maybe called the doctrine of terrestrial rigidity; 
the second has been called the doctrine of isostasy. At the present time 
the weight of opinion and, in my judgment, the weight of evidence lie 
with the doctrine of isostacy. The differential pressure of 12,000 pounds 
per square inch suffices to crush nearly all rocks, and it may fairly be 
questioned whether there are any rock masses which in their natural 
C(mdition near the surfiice of the earth are able to resist it. The samples 
of rock to which the pressures of the testing machine are applied have 
been indurated by drying; but it is a fact familiar to quarrymen that 
rocks in general are softer as they lie in the quarry below the water- 
line than after they have been exposed to the air and thoroughly dried. 
It is probable therefore that rocks lying within a few hundred or a few 
thousand feet of the surface are unable to resist such stresses as are 
imposed by continents. At greater depths we pass beyond the range 
of conditions which we can reproduce in our laboratories, and our infer- 
ences as to physical conditions are less confident. The tendency of 
subterranean high temperatures is surely to soften all rocks, and the 
tendency of subterranean high pressures is probably to harden them. 
It is not known which tendency dominates; but if the tendencies due 
to pressure are the more powerful, we are at least assured by the phe- 
nomena of volcanism that their supremacy admits of local exception. 

Nature of drnsity (Jiffereneei'i. — If we accept the (hictrine of isostasy 
and regard the material under the continents as less dense than that 
under the ocean floors, the question then arises whether the difference 
in density is due merely to a difference in temperature or whether it 
arises primarily from differences in composition. This, which may be 
called the second problem of the continents, is so intimately related 
to the one which follows that we may pass it by without fuller state- 



What caused the continental plateau? — The i)r()blein of tlie origin of 
tlie continents remains almost untouched. Those who have pro- 
]>ounded theories for tlie formation of mountain ranges have sometimes 
included <'ontinents also, but as a rule without adequate adaptation to' 
the special conditions of the continental problem. So far as 1 ani 
aware, the ••.ubject has been seriously attacked only by our second 
ju'csident, Prof. Dana. He postulates a globe with solid nucleus and 
molten exterior, and ])ostulates, further, local differences of condition, 
in consequence of which the formation of solid crust on the liquid en- 
veloi)e was for a long period confined to certain districts. In those 
districts successive crusts were formed, which sunk through the liquid 
envelope to the solid nucleus and by their accumulation built up the 
continental masses. The remaining areas were afterward consolidated, 
and subsequent cooling shrunk the ocean beds more than it shrunk the 
continental masses, because their initial tem])eratures (at the beginning 
of that process) were higher.* That the philosoj)hic mind may find 
satisfaction in this explanation, it appears necessary to go behind the 
second postulate and discover what were the conditions which deter- 
mined congelation in certain districts long betbre it l)egan in others. 

Can it be shown that the localization of congelati(m, having been 
initiated by an otherwise unimportant inequality, would be periiet- 
uated by any of those cumulative processes which are of such im])or- 
tance in various departments of idiysics? Andean it be shown that 
siu'h a process of continent-buildiug" would segregate in the continental 
tract certain kinds of matter and thus institute the conditions essential 
to isostatic eqnilibrium "? To the first of these questions no answer is 
ap]»arent, but I incline to the opinion that the second maybe answered 
in the affirmative. If we assume the liquid envelope to consist of va- 
rious molten rocks arranged in the order of their densities and if we 
assume, further, that their order of densities in the li(iuid condition 
corresponds to their ordei- ol densities in the solid condition, then the 
successive crusts whose heaping built up the continents would all be 
formed from the lightest material, and the isostatic condition would be 

It was the fashion of the last generation of physical geographers to 
study the forms of continents as delimited by coasts, seeking analogies 
of continental forms with one anotiier and also with various geometric 
figures, especially the triangle. The geiu^rali zations resulting from 
these studies have not yielded valuable ideas, and the modern student 
is apt to smile at the effVu't of his ])redecess()r to dis(M)ver the ideal geo- 
metric ligure where th<^ unbiased eye sees only irregularity. Ibit barren 
as were those studies i am not satisfied that their method was faulty, 
and as a i)hysiograplier 1 have such a})pr(H',iation of the ideas that 
sometimes grow from studies of form that 1 have attem])ted to apply 
the old method to the new conception of the continental ])latcau. Con- 

*. lames I). Daua: Matnial of (iroldi/n, 2d edition, Now Yoilv, 1S74, p. 738. 



lessing in advance that my only result has been negative, I neverthe- 
less recite what I have done, partly because negative contributions to 
an obscure subject are not entirely valueless and partly with the 
thought that the forms whose meanings I failed to discover may never- 
theless prove significant to some other eyes. 

What I did was to draw upon a globe the outline of tlie continental 
plateau and then view it from every direction. Afterwards I developed 
the figure upon a jilane surface, employing for that purpose a mode of 
projection which is probably novel. As tliis mode is not susceptible of 
mathematical fornmlation, and therefore will not find place in the litera- 
ture of cartography, I may be pardoned for applying a trivial name and 
calling it the orange-peel projection. The name almost explains it. Con- 
ceive the continental i^lateau to be outlined upon a spherical orange 
and the rind of the orange to ])e divided by a sharp knife along the 
sinuosities of the outline; conceive then that the ]>ortiou of the rind 

Figure 3.- The rotitiufntal platcaii deoeloperl on a piano, surface. 

thus circumscribed is peeled from the orange and is spread ujion a flat 
surface, the different parts l)eing strciclied and compressed so as to pass 

FinrHK 4. — Oceanic, urea complementary to the cuntinental 2'lateaii developed on a plane surface 

from S])herical form to plane with the least strain of the rind. The re- 
sulting shape is delineate<l in Figure 3. Figure 4 shows the form as- 


siiniod by tlio (•()ini)I('iii('iit;iiy i);irt of tlio oiaiige \)QqI, wliicli lepresciits, 
of course, (lint ])ortioii of the occmu outside the (•(^iitiiuMital shoals. In 
each dia^iain the positions of the i><)les north and south aie rei)re- 
sented by the letters X and S, From the study of these tigures, and 
es])ecially from tlieii' sttuly as <Ielineated on the globe, it a]»i)eared pos- 
sible that a portion of the continental plateau might belt the earth as 
a great circle. The discovery of such a belt would be imi)ortant, for by 
assuming that it Avas originally etjuatorial Ave might be led to new hy- 
p(^theses of continental development. In a rotating liquid si)here the 
only differentiation of surface condition we can readily conceive is that 
between equatorial and polar regitms, and if such differentiation were 
sulticient to cause or localize continental elevations, then these eleva- 
tions would constitute either t\A'o polar tracts or else an equatorial belt. 
Moreover, I have been induced by recent studies of the physical history 
of the moon to suspect that thc^, earth may at one time have received 
considerable accessions from without and that these accessions were 
made to the equatorial tract. If these suspicions are well foiiuded, pe- 
culiar characters may have been given to a tract having the form of a 
belt. So for a double reason I was led to compare the outline of the 
continental plateau with a great circle. To this end a great circle was 
chosen, coinciding as nearly as possible with the line of greatest con- 
tinental extension, and the projection was so modified as to render the 

ridl'KE 5, — Area vf eontincntdl plateau, dm-loped vith ri'/crcnce to a (ircat circle. 

locus of that great circle a straight line. The result a|)])eais in Figure 
T), where the stiaight line is tiie ]>ro)ection of the hypothetic ancient 
e(iiiator; and you will i)robab]y agree with me that it gives little sup- 
port to the suggestion that the ]>rinci|)al line of contiiuMital elevation 
was originally eipiatorial. 

Wlnj (Jo eontlnciitdl <irr<(>< r/.sr and Jail f — A foui'lh ])robIem refers to 
continentaloscillations. Tiiegeologic history ofevery <listrictoftheland 
includes alternate submergence under and emergence from the sea. 
To what extent are these changes due, on one hand, to movements of 
the sea and, on the other, to movements of the land, ;nid what are their 
(rauses? AVith American geologists the idea, recently advocated, that 
the chief movements are those of the ocean finds little favor, because 
some of the most inqxtrtant of the changes ol" which we are directly 
cognizant are manifestly dilfercntial. Our ])aheozoic maj) ])ictures a 
sea where now are Ai»i)ala(iiiau uplands and uplands where now are 


low coastal plains and oceanic waters. In Cretaceous time the two 
marijins of what are now the Great Plains had the same height, or at 
least the western margin was no higlier than the eastern ; but now the 
western margin lies from four thousand to six thousand feet above the 
eastern, and the intervening rock mass api)ears to have been gently 
tilted with(mt im])<ntant internal distortion. Such geographi*' revo- 
lutions are not to l)e exjdained by the shifting of the hydro-sphere nor 
by its dilatation and contraction. N"either can they be ascribed to iso- 
static restoration of an eijuilibrium deranged through the transfer of 
masses by erosion and sedimentation, for that liypothetic process i.« 
essentially conservative. Neitlier is it easy to believe that the two mar- 
gins of the plains have differed, since the Cretaceous, to the extent of 
one mile in their radial contraction due to secular cooling of the globe; 
nor is it easy, at least for the disciple of isostasy, to believe that such 
a change can have resulted from the localization of deformation con- 
sequent on the slowing of the earth's rotation. Each of these processes 
may have been concerned, but I conceive that the essential factor still 
awaits suggestion. Our knowledge of surface processes, as compared 
to subterranean, is so full that the field of plausible epigene hypothe- 
ses may be exhausted, but the vista of hypogene i)ossibility still opens 

Are continents permanent? — The doctrine of the permanence of the 
continental plateau, enunciated long ago by Dana and more recently 
advocated, with a powerful array of new data, by Murray and Wallace, 
has made rapid progress toward general acceptance. Nevertheless its 
course is not entirely clear, and among the obstacles still to be over- 
come is one whose magnitude is perhaps magnified for the American 
student by proximity. All who have studied broadly the stratigraphy 
of the Appalachian district have concluded that the sediments came 
chietly from the east, and the detailed Appalachian work of the past 
decade is disclosing a complicated history, in which all chapters tell of 
an eastern paheozoic land and some chapters seem to testify to its wide 
extent. At some times the western shore of this land lay east of the 
sight of the Blue Ridge, and there is serious doubt w^hether the exist- 
ing belts of coastal plain and submerged continental shelf afford it 
sutticient space. For the present, at least, the subject of continental 
permanence must be classed with the continental problems. 

Do continents (fro IV f — According to my own view^ there is yet another, 
a sixth, continental ])roblem deserving the attention of the World's 
Fair inter-continental congress. We have been told by the masters of 
our science (and their teaching has been echoed in every text-book and 
in every classroom), that through the whole ])eriod of the geologic 
record the continents have grown; not that the continental plateaus 
have been materially extended, not that the pendulum has moved 
always in one direction, but that the land area has on the whole 
steadily increased. From this doctrine there has been no dissent — 


and possibly there should be no dissent — but the evidence on which it 
is founded appears to nic so far from conclusive that I venture to 

The evidence employed consists partly in the geueral distribution of 
formations as shown by the oeoloyic map and i)artly iu inferences drawn 
from certain formations which contain internal evidence that they origi- 
nated on coasts. With the aid of such data are drawn the outlines of 
ancient ocean and land at ^■arious geologic dates, and from the com 
parison of these outlines contineutal growth is infened. In passing 
from the formation boundaries of the geologic map to the oceanic limits 
of the charts of aiuuent geography, allowance is made for the former 
extent of non-littoral formations beyond their present boundaries. 
This allowance is largel.y conjectural and the range of possible error is 
confessedly great. In i)assing from the observed limits of littoral for- 
mations to the coast lines of ancient geography little or no allowance 
is usually made for the former extent of the formations, and I conceive 
that great possibility of error is also thus admitted, louring a period 
of oceanic transgression over the land, all portions of the transgressed 
surface are successively coastal, and tlie coastal deposits they receive 
are subsequently buried by off-shore deposits. When tlierefore littoral 
beds are found in remnants of strata surviving the processes of deg- 
radation, it is indeed proper to infer the ])roximity of ancient coasts 
during their formation, but the inference that they represent the limit 
of transgression for that epoch may be far from the truth. For these 
reasons it appears to nie that the specific conclusions which have been 
reached with reference to the original extent of various formations are 
subject to wide uncertainties; and, if this be granted, then but brief 
attention to a simple law of (Unuidation is necessary to show that the gen- 
eral conclusion maybe illusory. The process of degradation by aque- 
ous agencies is chiefly regulated, not by the thickness of formations, 
but by the height to whicli they are uplifted. Thus the present extent 
of most formations is determined in large part by crustal oscillations 
subsequent to their deposition. As formations are progressively eroded, 
the under-lying and older can not be attacked until the over-lying and 
younger have been carried away, and so the outcro})s of the older of 
necessity project beyond the boundaries of the younger. The progress 
of vague inferencte, making indefinite allowance for tlieuidcnown quan- 
tity of eroded strata, nearly always assigns to the older formation, 
wlii<;h projects visildy beyond the newer, a greater original extent. It 
ap])ears to me thus possible that the greater part of the data from which 
contineutal growth is inferred may be factitious and misleading. 

Furthermore, inference, such as it is, deals with only one phase of 
the problem. It is applied to the incursions of the sea upon the land, 
but it is not ai)plied to the excursions of the lan<l upon the sea. Just 
as we infer from stratified rocks the presence of the sea, so also we 
infer from unconformities the .sea's absence; and to the student of 


ancient geograplij^ the two classes of evidence are equally iinportant. 
But the strata, spread widely over the surface of the laud, are con- 
spicuous phenomena, while unconformities are visible only here and 
there and are usually difficult of determination. For this reason the 
data derived from unconformity have never been assembled. Essays 
toward ancient geography have dealt only with the minima of ancient 
land, never with its maxima, and the question of continental growth 
can not be adequately treated while half of the history is ignored. 

We may borrow a figure from the strand of a lake. As the waves 
roll inward, each records its farthest limit by a line upon the sand and 
each obliterates all previous wave lines which it overpasses. The ob- 
server who studies thetransient record at any point may find a series of 
lines, of which the highest is the oldest and th6 lowest is the newest, and 
he may infer that the lake level was higher when the first wave left its 
trace and that the water is receding from the land. But, if he continue 
his observations through many days and fix monuments to record from 
time to time the lowest land laid bare between the waves, he may dis- 
cover that the highest wave line and the lowest record of ebb corre- 
spond in time with the play of the largest waves, and that the lowest 
wave lino and the highest record of ebb correspond to the play of smaller 
waves, and thus reach the conclusion that the lake level has remained 
unchanged. In the study of Time's great continental strand we are not 
even able to observe directly the wave lines of rhythmic transgression, 
but infer their positions from data often ambiguous; and of the lower 
wave limits, the lines of maximum regression, Ave are absolutely 

It may be true that a priori considerations afford a presumption in 
favor of continental growth, but such presumption should not be per- 
mitted to give color to evidence otherwise neutral ; and moreover it is- 
not impossible to discover an ffj)r/ori presumption in favor of continental 
diminution. Assuming that hyj)ogene agencies cause continental areas 
to rise above the ocean, the work of epigene agencies constantly tends 
to remove the projecting eminences and deposit their material about 
their margins, so as to extend the area of the continental plateau. Thus 
we have a strong a priori presumption in favor of continental growth. 
On the other hand, if we admittheprincipleof isostatic equilibrium, then 
the continental eminences have low density ; and as they are worn away 
by epigene processes the material which rises from below to restore them 
has greater density and maintains a somewhat less altitude. The proc- 
ess of isostatic restoration tends thus toward the permanent levelling 
of continents, and if the hypogene initiative should cease the continents 
would ultimately be reduced to ocean level, and finally, through proc- 
esses of solution, to a level below the ocean; so, assuming the initiative 
processes of the under earth to be of finite duration, tlie work of terres- 
trial degradation, combined with isostatic restoration, should afford a 
continental history characterized in an earlier stage by growth and in a 


later stage by deeadence. In our igiioraiicc of subterranean forces we 
should use sucli a priori coiisidcrations only as a means fortlie sugges- 
tion of liy[)otliescs. As they liave (h)ubtless served to promote the 
theory of continental growth, they should also be permitted to indicate 
the possibility of continental retrogradation. 

Sumnuiri/. — Tiie problems of the continents ha\t' been touciied to-day 
sobrietly that a snmnuiry is almost superlluous. 'riie doctrine of isos- 
tasy, though holding a leading i)ositiou, has not full.\- supplanted tlie 
doctriue of rigidity. If it be accepted, there remains the (juestiou 
whether heat or composition determines the gra\ity of the ocean beds 
and the le^'ity of continents. For tlie origin of continents we have a 
single hyj)othesis, wliich deserves to be more fully compared with the 
body of modern data. The newly determined configuration of the con- 
tinental mass has yielded no suggestion as to its oiigin. The cause of 
differential ele\ ation and sul)sidence within the continental plateau is 
unknown and has probably not been suggested. The i)ermanence of 
the continental i)lateau, though highly ])robable, is not yet fully estab- 
lished; and the doctrine of continental growth, though generally ac- 
ce]>ted, has not been placed be.\'ond the Held of profitable discussion. 
Thus the sulyect of continents affords no less than a. half dozen of great 
problems, whose complete solution belongs to the future, ft is not al- 
together pleasant to deal with a. subject in regard to which the domain 
of our ignoran(;e is so broad; but if we are optimists we may be com- 
forted by the reflectiou that the geologists of this generation, at least, 
will have no occasion, like Alexander, to lament a dearth of worlds to 


Bv Iv. Ta Packard. 

The bioiul classification <»f the successive stages of culture of the 
prehistoric; peoples of Europe into the stoue, bronze, and iron "ages" 
was based ujjon ])rehistorie finds, and is an induction derived from 
observation similar to that relating to the succession <»f the different 
orders of animals and plants in geological history. It is also confirmed, 
as far as bronze and iron are concerned, by ancient tradition, for iu 
early histoiical times it was known among the Greeks that bronze had 
preceded iron at an earlier period, and this knowledge, passing to the 
Romans in a later age, was expressed in the line of Lucretius which has 
been often quoted iu this connection, " sed irrior <rris crat quam ferri 
cognitus nsns.'''' 

But there is e\'idence to show that the use of coi^per was indei)endent 
of, if it did not precede, that of bronze, particularly in places where 
tlie metal was indigenous. This evidence consists in the discovery of 
copper implements and weapons instead of or sometimes accompany- 
ing bronze, mingled with numerous stone articles of the same charac- 
ter, in various places in Europe and the East. The prehistoric people 
had learned the art of extracting copper fi-om its ore, and in some cases 
l)racticed it near the places where the metal was used for implements 
and weapons. Prehistoric copper mines have been reported from the 
Urals and elsewhere, and a circumstantial account of such a mine, 
which Mas discovered in 1827 near Bischofshofen in Salzburg, in Ger- 
many, has been published by M. Much, an arch<e(»logist who examined 
it in LS79.* The traces of the old workings, nearly obliterated after so 
long a time, had led to the establishment of a nourishing mod<H'n cop- 
per mine on the same vein. Just as the trenches on the outcrops of the 
coi)i)er bearing rocks in the Lake Su])erior district served as guides to 
modern miners in sinking shafts there. The Salzburg mine, however, 
was in copjx'r ore and not native coj)per, and was a mine in the proper 
sense of the term, with extensive underground workings. The remains 
of small smelting furnaces, with slag heaps and other rubbish, were 

* Die Knpfcrzcit iu Kiiropji luul ilir zur Cnltur d<v ludoijcorrnanou. 
Wien, ISSG. 



found in the neighborliood, in the midst of Avhich were a i'^w pieces of 
the copper produced from the ore on the spot by the prehistoric smelt- 
ers.* I^o iron tools or signs of their use were found in this mine, which 
was assigned by the arclueologist who examined it to the time of the 
neighboring lake dwellers, who used its copper for weapons and tools. 
Another mine in the Tyrol, referred to by the siuue author, was also 
apparently worked to sup])]y a colony of lake dwellers situated near by. 

It might be expected on l)oth mineralogical and metallurgical grounds 
that copper would be used before bronze, and even before smelting was 
discovered, because copper, like gold and silver, is found in the native 
state in many places, while considerable metallurgical skill is necessary 
for the production of bronze. Moreover, bronze is an alloy of copper 
and tin, and, except in the comparatively rare cases where copper 
and tin ores occur together, tin would have to be transported to the 
copper-smelters to produce the alloy. In North America,! while cop- 
per was known to the natives, bronze had not appeared at the epoch of 
discovery by Europeans, and neither smelting nor even melting was 
necessary for the production of the copper arti('les found in use by the 

The first comers to the northern part of tliis continent were struck 
with the absence of metals in the nati\'e weapons and implements, and 
found their place supj)lied by stone and bone. The iidiabitauts were 
in the neolithic stage of culture. They were, indeed, in possession o! 
copper, but, as far as the discoverers observed, it was almost exclusively 
used for ornamental purposes, and formed, apparently, no part of the 
native equipment in the arts of life. Exclusive of the [Spaniards, the 
earliest voyagers who left records or reports of their explorations sailed 
along the coast, or visited different parts of it, from Labrador to Flor- 
ida, and the inhabitants of the whole seaboard were found sparingly 
in possession of the "red metal." Thus, in the account of Cabot's voy 
age in 1497, given in Hakluyt, there is this brief statement: "Het: 
(Cabot) declareth further that in many places of these Regions he saw 
great plentie of copper among the inhabitants." The account is a 
translation from Peter Martyr, and the words '^ great plentie of " are not 
warranted by the original. J Cabot's observations were made on the 
northern coast of the continent, and he went as far as 60° north lati- 
tude. A similar brief statement is given in the account of the voyage 
of Ccrtereal in 1500, who is said to have gone as far north as 50°. The 
account (in llamusio) describes the painted inhabitants, their clothing 
of skins, and other particulars, and states that they had bracelets of 
silver and copper. The mention of silver is unfortunate. Verrazano's 

* A piece of this copper gave, on analysis : Copper, 98'46 per cent ; sulpliur, 0'09 per 
cent; slag, 0-44 per cent, while a copper tool found in the worliings gave copper, 
97-78 per cent; nickel, 0-88 ])er cent; iron, a trace; lead, 0-05 per cent; sulphur, 0-24 
per cent; slag, 0'07 per cent. 

t By North America is meant only the nou-Spanish portion of the country, 

t Orlchalciim in plerisqae locis ne ftdisse apnd hivohts jjra'dicut. 


report goes more into particulars, lie coasted from ."U to beyond 41'^ 
north latitude in the year 15lil, and made several laiulinjis. ITe says 
of the natives, at a point on the coast apparently in the neighborhood 
of New York, that they had "many plates of wiouiiht copper, which 
tliey esteeme more than Isolde." On sailiu;"' along thecoast to the east- 
ward he saw certain hills and concluded that they had some "minerall 
matter in them, because," he says, " we saw many of them [the nativesj 
have headstones of copper hanging at their eares." On the southern 
and eastern coast, therefore, according to these accounts, the copper 
was used for ornaments. IS'eitlier of the observers cpioted siteahs of 
copper weai)ons in that part of the country, which they would have 
been likely to notice, as they naturally paid special attention to the arms 
they nught have to encounter. Nor did later exjjlorers who described 
the e(piii)ment of the natives in detail have occasion to give greater 
prominence to copper. 

In Cartier's second voyage to the St. Lawrence, in 1535, he kidnaped 
the principal chief of a local tribe to take with him to France, follow 
ing- the common practice of the time, and this chief was visited on 
shipboard by condoling members of his tribe, who were assured that 
he would return the next year, " which, when they heard," says the 
account in llakhiyt, " they greatly thanked our captain and gave their 
lord three bundles of beaver and sea wolves skinnes, with a greatknife 
of red copper that commeth from Saguenay," Jlereis an instance of a 
copper weapon or implement. The quantity of copper which the North 
American Indians possessed at the epoch of disco\ery, although the 
metal was diffused over a very wide teiritory, was very small compared 
with stone. A glance at collections of aboriginal articles, like that of 
the Smithsonian Institution in Washington or the Peabody Museum in 
Cambiidge, will at once show how relatively insignilicant it was. The 
Smithsonian has between six and seven hundred copper articles from 
mounds, graves, and othei- S(mrces within the territory of the United 
States, while there are thousands of stone arrow and si^ear heads and 
implements in its collection. The Peabody and other cop]»er collections 
are very nnich smaller. A closer examination of the Smithsonian 
exhibit will show that tlu'. copper articles from the south and east are 
niaiidy of an ornamental chaiacter and few in number com])ared with 
those found toward the m)rthwest. As Wisconsin is approached the 
copper articles not only increase in number, but tlie i)ro]»ortion of arrow 
and s])ear heads and iniplements far exceeds that of the ornaments. 
Among the Wisconsin specimens ar(^ pieces of "tloat" copper, varying 
in size from those weighing several pounds down to nuggc^ts, which 
indicate the convenient matviial of which some of tlu' nuinufactured 
articles were i)robably made. 

If one were to])rej)are a map showing by slunling or colors, as is now 
the practice, the relative numl)er of aboriginal copjx'r lituls in (he 
Tnited States, the dee])est shades or darkest color would at present be in 
II. .Mis. lU 12 


Wisconsin. This condition is no doubt largely due to the indefatiga- 
ble zeal of Mr. F. S. Perkins, of Wisconsin, who has devoted himself 
for many years to collecting copper articles of Indian origin from all 
parts of the State, about four hundred of which are in the Smithsonian 
cases. But the phenomenon can be explained in anotlier way when 
one reflects that Keweenaw Point is directly nortli of the State and 
was the seat of the ancient copper mines which have attracted the 
attention of archaeologists, and was the center of distribution of the 
native copper which was the object of the desultory mining carried on 
there. Wisconsin is also in a very favorable situation for receiving the 
drift which brought "float" copper from the copper-bearing rocks of 
Keweenaw, which "float" was apparently often manufactured into 
implements. The State covers a district which was near the mines and 
is in a direct course for people leaving them going south. It may be 
found that that district was the seat of the ancient miners themselves. 

The yield of mounds, graves, and fields, as shown in the colie(;tions, 
confirms in a general way the observations of the first discoverers. In 
the eastern and southern parts of the country the majority of the copper 
articles whic;h have been found are breast-plates, bracelets, beads, 
bobbin-like objects and other ornaments, while in the north and west, 
and especially in Wisconsin, implements and weapons prevail. The 
Wisconsin vSpecimens are like those figured by ^Yh\tt\esey{Smithsonia)i 
Contributions, vol. xiii), which were found in the mining district itself, 
and those found at Brock ville, Canada, and shown in Wilson's "Prehis- 
toric Man." Otliers, apparently of the same character, are mentioned by 
Wilson as being found near Marquette, Mich., east of the copper dis- 

The present evidence, therefore, sliowsthatcoi^per had not passed its 
ornamental or precious stage on the seaboard and in the south at the 
time this continent was brought to the attention of Europe. It was not 
a part of the general native equipment, either for war, or hunting, or 
other useful purposes, and its i)osition in the native economy was not 
like the noticeable part it played in the armament of the Mexicans and 
Central Americans of the same jjeriod. 

At the advent of Europeans copper w^as eagerly sought for in trade 
with the whites. An olficial present of coj^per articles is particularly 
mentioned in the account of Cartier's voyage before referred to, and 
Ealph Lane writes from Roanoke, in 1585, to his company in England 
that they could not do better than send over copper articles of all kinds 
to trade with ; " copper carry eth the price of all, so it be made red," he 
explains. The copper obtained from the whites was very soon, with other 
imported things, disseminated by barter among the different tribes. In 
Frobisher's third voyage to the Labrador coast (lat. 58°), in 1578, he 
noticed the evidence of tliis aboriginal trade, and says " the natives 
have traffic with other people, and have barres of iron, arrowe, and 
speare heads and certain buttons of copi)er which they use to weare 


upon their foreheads for oriiainent, as our ladies iu the court of Eng- 
land doe use great pearle." This trade with the natives must have 
been considerable. The lisliing tieets wiiicli swarmed iu the northern 
waters carried on trade, and copper and iron articles formed a part of 
their outward cargoes. According to Anthony l*arkhurst, who had 
been in the business and on the fishing grounds, trade to Newfoundland 
from r^ngland was brisk in 1548, and an estimate which he made for 
Ilakluyt shows that in loTS there were 100 Spanish vessels engaged in 
cod fishing, 20 to 30 whalers from Biscay, 50 Portuguese, and 150 French 
and Breton vessels. The English contingent was then mucli smaller 
than in former years. 

After the arrival of Europeans, bringing an assortment of " novel- 
ties ''of all kinds, there was no reason why the Indians should trouble 
themselves further to obtain domestic coppei- by tiie toilsome process of 
searching and digging for it, because they now had not only a ready and 
sufficient supply of that metal for ornamental purposes, but were intro- 
duced to many other things of superior attractiveness, especially iron, 
in the form of knives, hatchets, etc., which at once superseded coj)per 
for pi-actical use. " The Chippewa chief, Kontika, asserted in 1.S24 
that but seven generations of men had passed since the French brought 
them brass kettles; at which time their people at once laid aside their 
own manufactures and adopted those of the French." * The testimony 
of the earliest voyagers to the possession of copper ornaments by the 
natives is therefore of imi)ortance, because there was very soon enough 
of the imported article in the country to make a show . Incidentally, 
also, archa'ologists have to keep this fact of foreign imi)ortation iu 
mind in deciding upon the origin of coi^per articles in " finds." Lake 
Superior copper, of which pre-Columbian Indian articles were made, 
occurs in the native state, and is free from the impurities which are 
found in copper that has been smelted, so that chemical analysis could 
often decide whether a given specimen was of native (U'igiu or imported. 
On some copper articles found in the north, si)ecks of silver have been 
noti(ted. This is a snre token of Lake Superior co])per which has never 
been melted. 

In the absence of evidence that the Indians of fhe United States had 
any knowledge of smelting, it must be inferi-ed that all the coi)perthey 
])ossesse(l was found in the metallic or native state. There is nothing 
to show that they weie aware of the existence of ('o|i|)er ore as a sonrce 
of metal. No remains of smelting places, or slag, or other indications 
of metallurgi(;al operations havt^ yet been found. If they had known 
smelting they could have had an ain})le supi^ly of the metal, because 
ores of (•oi)per are eom])aiatively abundant in the United States, while, 
as a nmtter of fact, coi)i)er was a larity w ith them. Native copper occurs 
in snudl quantities in many jdaces in the United States, but there is no 
evidence at present tliat the northern Indians had knowledge of any 
* ttclioolcruft, vol. IV, p. 142. 


but two localities where it oonld be obtained in any quantity. These 
were the Coppermine lliver in the British Possessions, and the Lake 
Superior copper district. The latter aflbrds the most remarkable occur- 
rence of native copper in the world, and the present mines on Keweenaw 
Peninsula — including the famous Calumet and Hecla, the Tamarack, 
Quincy, and others — are of Avorld-wide fame. The same de])Osits were 
worked superticiallj^ over their whole extent long- before the advent of 
Europeans to these shores. 

By referring- to the map of Michigan it will be seen that Keweenaw 
Peninsula is a prominent geographical feature and extends a consid- 
erable distance into Lake Superior. Its northwestern shore and the 
continuation thereof through Ontonagon County is practically parallel 
to the opposite or north shore of the lake. Through the middle of 
Keweenaw Point runs a belt of elevated land which is several hundred 
feet above the lake in some places, and extends from the extreme point 
through the peninsula and Ontonagon County into Wisconsin. This 
elevated belt, which is known as tlie "mineral range," sometimes rises 
Into bluffs which are abrupt on the southeastern or shoreward side, 
but sloi)ing in the op[)Osite direction or toward the lake. The dip of 
the formation composing this range (sandstone, and sheets of igneous 
rock, including conglomerates) is in a general northwesterly direction, 
or towards the lake and the north shore. On Isle Royale, near the 
north shore of the lake, the same formation occurs, but dipping in the 
opposite direction, viz, to the southeast or towards Keweenaw. " Trap" 
rock carrying copper is also found on the north and east shores of the 
lake at St. Ignaceand Michipicoten Island. The copper-bearing series 
of the "mineral range" consists of sheets of igneous rocks — diabase, 
diabase-amygdaloid, and melaphyr — which include beds of conglom- 
erate all carrying native copper. Both of these classes of rocks are 
mined. The famous Calumet and Hecla mine is in tlie conglomerate, 
as is also the Tamarack, while the Quincy, Atlantic, and others are in 
the amygdaloid rocks. 

The product of the mines is divided by the miners into three classes, 
stamp rock, " barrel work," and mass copper. By stamp rock is meant 
that Mdiich contains the copper in line particles and is sent to the pow- 
erful steam stamps to be crushed, in order to separate the grains of 
copper by washing (jigging), just as gold-bearing quartz is stamj)ed. 
"Barrel work" means the pieces of copper which are large enougli 
to be detached from the rock without stamping and are packed in 
barrels and sent directly to the smelters. They vary in size from pieces 
about as large iis the hand to those not too large to be conveniently 
packed in barrels. Pieces too large for this constitute the third class, 
" mass copper," which includes the huge pieces of many tons' weight 
Avhich are occasionally met with. All this cojiper vshows as such in the 
rock, and the ancient miners had only to follow down a promising out- 
croj) showing "barrel work" for a few feet and hammer away the rock 


from the copper to secure the latter. Wlien tliey caiiie upon mass cop- 
per tliey were compelled to abandon it, after liammcrini;' off i)r()jcctin<;- 
pieces, because they bad no tools I'or cutting' it up and r('m()\iuy it. 
Several instances of this sort have been fouud. 

The ancient mines were not mines in the strict sense of the word, 
because they were not underground workings. As described by AVhit- 
tlesey, who examined them at an early date,* they were shallow pits 
or trenches, and sometimes excavations in the faces of the cliffs, scat- 
tered along the mineral range from Ontonagon to near the end of the 
peninsula. At the time modern mining began they had become mere 
depressions in the ground, owing to the accumulations of earth, leaves, 
and decayed vegetable matter within them. Forest trees were grow- 
ing in them and upon the waste thrown out of them, so that it was 
diflicult to distinguish them from natural depressions due to the weather- 
ing of the rock beneath the soil, or, in some cases, from the hollows 
left by the ui)turned roots of fallen tiees. After their character was 
discovered, however, they served as guides to the uiodern miners, who 
often sank shfifts upon the copper bearing rocks, which were revealed 
by clearing them out. No mine has been oi)ened on the lake that was 
not thus "prospected" by the old miners. Trenches like those on 
Keweenaw Point and Ontonagon, but, if anything, more elaborate, were 
found on Isle Royale, and Sir William Logan mentioned similar work- 
ings on the east shore of the lake near jMaimanse. All of these work- 
ings contained stone hammers or mauls, amounting in all to a countless 

A few wooden shovels, strongly resembling canoe paddles, were 
found in some of the diggings, together with the remains of wooden 
bowls for baling, birch-bark baskets, and some si)ear or lance heads 
and other articles of copper. In Ontonagon County the old w<n'kings 
were for the most part shallow depressions oidy a few feet<leep. Some 
of them in the bluff jvhich showed outcroi)X)ings of coi)i)er rock were 
liardly large enough to shelter a bear, while others weie larger. In 
Houghton County (i. e., on the Keweenaw promontory) on the (,>uincy 
location, theie were broad and deep pits in the gravel, i)robably dug 
for the float copi^er, lumps of which arc still met with in the neighbor- 
hood. At the Central mine, further outon the point, there was a i)it 
filled in with rubbish, which was at lirst supposed to be mitural. It 
was 5 feet deep and 30 long. On examination, a "flat ])iece of coi)i)er, 
5 to inches thick and 9 feet long, was found, which ibrmed i)art of 
a piece still in the vein. IJioken stone mauls were all about it, show- 
ing that the miners could do notliiiig with it. Its upper edge had been 
beaten by the stone mauls so severely that a lip or s)roJecting rim had 
])een formed, which was bent downwards." Otiier localities toward 
the end of the peninsula and at the Copper Falls location are described 
by Mr. Whittlesey, and as late as 181)0 depressions in the ground, of 

Smithsonian Contributions, vol. xiii, 1862. 


small diinensions, were pointed oat to tlie writer at the latter place as 
the work of the old miners. Modern miners would regard the whole 
system as nothing more than i^rospectiug work and not mining i)roper, 
as there were no shafts or tunnels or underground workings of any 
kind. As Mr. Whittlesey expressed it, "the old miners performed the 
part of the surface explorers." 

I am fortunate in being able to add to the foregoing the testimony of 
an eye-witness of some other discoveries in this district, viz, that of 
Mr. J. H. Forster, a well-known mining engineer who lived in the dis- 
trict many years. He was at one time superintendent of one of the 
mines, and was engaged on the Portage Lake Ship Canal as State 
engineer when tlie canal was opened, when he discovered some copper 
articles in an ancient grave at that point. He Avrites in regard to the 
discovery of old operations: " The largest mass of float copper found 
in modern times - - - weighed 18 tons, and contained very little 
rocky matter. When found in the Avoods, on the Mesnard location, it 
was covered with moss and resembled a flat trap bowlder. It had been 
manipulated by the ' ancient miner,' and much charcoal was found 
around it. Its top and sides were i^ounded smooth, and marks of stone 
hammers were apparent. All projections — every bit of copper that 
could be detached — had beeu carried away. - - - Subsequent 
explorations disclosed the epidote lode whence the mass came — torn 
from its matrix doubtless by the ice. The mass had been transported 
only about 50 feet and dropped on a ridge. When the lode was stripped 
of the drift the jagged edges of a mass lu place were exposed. It was 
of the same length, thickness, and structure of the ' float.' It was 
observed at the time that if the 'float' could be set up on edge on the 
piece in place it would fit in exactly. A beautiful illustration of the 
power and direction of the glacier was thus afitbrded." Mr. Forster 
was present when the famous Calumet conglomerate lode was opened. 
At that point a small mound was found in the woods, while explora- 
tions were in progress, upon which large pine, maple, and birch trees 
were growing. Eoots of trees still more ancient were found in the 
drift. After stripping off the timber a pit was sunk, which reached 
the solid conglomerate at the depth of ] 5 feet. " But it was a hard 
rock filled with stamp copper only, and could not be mined by the 
ancient miners." 

Numerous stone hammers and biich-bark baskets were found in the 
workings. Mr. Forster thinks the dirt was carried out of the pit in 
these baskets. On the north side of Portage Lake, on the extension of 
the Isle Ivoyale lode (oi)posite Houghton), the drift being shallow, 
"long trenches were dug on the back of the lode 3 feet wide and deep. 
There was much small mass or nugget copper (barrel worki released by 
the disintegration of the soit epidote vein stone." This was thrown 
out, while the earth was thrown behind tlie miner as he advanced, and 
the work resembled that of an expert " navvy." No evidence of deep 


mining- could be found. As usual, stone luxmniers and cliarcoal were 
found in tlie trenches. A remarkably deep trench which was tilled 
with earth and leaves was disco\ered at tlie South Pewabie (now 
Atlantic) mine, several miles west of the last locality, which extended 
2 or 3 feet into the solid rock. At the? bottom " was a well-delined 
transverse tissnre vein of (juartz, about l.* feet wide, containing- here 
and there chunks of solid copper. Hy the several pits sunk on the 
course of the vein, ])roof was had that it had been worked sui)erticially 
several hundred feet in length. I walked through it a long distance. 
The surface of the formation was shattered and decomposed, hence the 
old miners could come at the quartz handily. They did lu^t carry the 
rock out to the surface to dump it, but piled it up neatly on each side 
of the drift. At one point I found a handsome specimen of ((uartz and 
copper laid up carefully in a niche. It weighed several pounds. - - - 
As in other cases, we had proof that the ancient miner did not sink 
any shafts and do real mining; he was only a surface gleaner." Of 
the ancient workings on Isle Ivoyale, on the north shore of the lake, 
which were very extensive and have been described as extending 20 
feet and more in the solid rock, Mr. Forster says: " As I understand it, 
these extensive works were upon a high outcrop, promising natural 
drainage. And I should infer from what I heard from Mr. A. C, Davis, 
the agent, and others who opened the Minong mine* that the ancient 
workings were among disturbed shattered rocks, among which were 
found much mass cojiper and barrel work. The ancients Avere after 
these pieces of copper. Mr. Davis found many considerabh^ masses, 
handled and beaten by the ancient men, which were too large for them 
to carry away." t 

*Oii Islo K()ya](\ 

tFroiiialotter to tlie writer. Mr. Forster refers to the views of another mining man 
on the old copper workings on Keweenaw, wlio wns the agi-nt (or snjjerintendent) of 
the Mesnard mine, and his opinions as an export are vahiable. Mr. Forster's letter 
continnes as follows : 

"Mr. .laeob llouglitou, in a paper entitled 'The Ancient Copper Mines of Lake 
Superior,' says, s])eaking of the so-called ancient mines: 

" 'Tlicir mining operations were crude and primitive. The process was to heat 
tlic embedding rocks by bnilding fires on the ontcro])s of tins v(dns or Ixdts, to par- 
tially disintegrate the rocks by contraction produced by the sudden throwing on of 
water, and to compbite the removal of the pieces t)f native cop])er by mauling off the 
adhering ])articles of rock with stone hammers. This is attested by the pres- 
ence in all ancient pits of large quantities of charcoal and numberless hammers, the 
latter sbowing marks of long usage. Tl'e miiicrs Lad not advanced to any knowl- 
edge of the artiticial elevation of water, as is shown by the lact that api)arently, in 
all cases, tlie pits have only been sunk to a de])tli where the limit in num power in 
baling out the water is reached. 

"• The pits, the charcoal, the stone hnnmiers, and the imi)lemen(s and tools made 
of copper are the only relics left of the races that wrought these mines. Neither a 
grave, vestige of a habitaticm, skeleton, or l)one has been found. ' 

''In connection with these last remarks by Mr. Houghton, I beg to state that while 
I was State engineer on the Tortage Lake and Lake Superior Ship Canal, the super- 


At tlie Miimesota mine, in Oiitouagoii County, was i'oand a large 
piece of mass copper wliicli liad been raised some distance iu the exca- 
vation and abandoned by the old Avorkeis, As this was the first large 
mass discovered, and gave rise to considerable speculation, it deserves 
special mention. The account is taken trom Forster and Whitney's 
report on the geology of the Lake Superior cf)pper region, and is as 
follows: In the winter of 1847-''48, Mr. Knapp, the agent of the Min- 
nesota, found an artificial cavern on the mine location containing stone 
hammers, and at the bottom was a vein with jagged i^rojections of 
copper. After the snow had left in the s]»ring he found other excava- 
tions, and particularly one 26 feet deep, filled \Yith clay and a matted 
mass of moldering vegetable matter. On digging 18 feet he came to a 
mass of native copper 10 feet long, 3 feet wide, ar.d nearly 2 feet thick, 
'weighing over 6 tons. '' On digging around it the mass was found to 
rest on billets of oak su])ported by sleepers of the same material. 
This wood, by its long exposure to dampness, is dark-colored and has 
lost all of its consistency. A knife blade may be thrust into it as 
easily as into a peatbog. The earth was so packed around the copper 
as to give it a firm support. The ancient miners had evidently raised 
it about 5 feet and then abandoned the work as too laborious. They 
had taken off every projecting point which was accessible, so that the 
exposed surface was smooth. Below this the vein was subsequently 
found filled with a sheet of copj>er 5 feet thick and of an undetermined 
extent vertically and longitudinally. - - - The vein Avas wrought 
in the form of an open trench, and where the copper was most abundant, 

intendent iu laying water pipes opened a Aery old grave. The grave was in the 
yellow sand, in a grove of Norway pines, near Lake Sa])erior. At the bottom there 
was an exceedingly thin layer of mold, darker than the sand. Some human teeth 
were found and a string of copper Iteads strung on sinews. The sinews, much 
decayed, still held the heads iu place. The copper bead was a small thin j)iece of 
copper about one-fourth of an inch long. It was riidely bent into a cylinder for the 
string to pass through, but was not welded; the edges were iu contact, but not 
fastened together. This grave was at the Grand Portage or carrying place. 

"In dredging, the dipper brought up from the bed of the ship canal where the 
sand drift had originally been at least 25 feet deep, several perfect stone hammers 
and a copper implement which I pronouuced to have been the head and ferule of a 
pike pole. It was about 18 inches long, taperiug, sharp, and solid for two-thii'ds the 
distnnce from the small or lower end. At the upper or pole end the copper had been 
flattened out and then bent round to form a socket for the pole. There Avas a slight 
o]»ening betAveen the two edges of the curved copper; it Avas not joined or av elded. 
Tlie pike Avas bright and shiniug like a clean copper kettle. 

"I sa,Av it, and it was dredged from the bottom of the canal, and its position, as 
regards strata, Avas under the drift or dune sand and ou the hard graA^el and clay 
underlying. I know of no other tinds in that section. The gravel and hard pan 
fouud in the bottom of the dredged canal I regarded as the bed of the ancient 
stream or estuary, now filled up with drift sand blown in from Lake Superior. 
How much the glacial drift had to do in filling up the ancient gorge in which the 
present canal is only a line, I can not say. In some of the marshes cut by the canal 
were fouud three distinct forests, one growing on top of the other, to a depth of 14 


there the excavatious extended deepest. The trench is j,'enera]ly tilled 
to within a foot of the snrlaoe with the wash from the surrounding 
surface, interiningied with leaves nearly decayed.'' Whittlesey says 
of this mass: '^ Its upper surface and edges were beaten and pounded 
smooth, all the irregularities taken off, and around the outside a rim 
or lip was formed, bending downwards, - - - Such copper as could 
be sei)arated by their tools was thus broken off; the beaten surface 
was smooth and i^olished. 

''On the edge of the excavation in which the mass was found there 
stood an ancient heiidock, the roots of which extended across the ditch, 
1 counted the rings of annual growth on its stump and found them to 
be 290." Mr. Knapp felled another tree growing in a similar position, 
wiiich had 395 rings. "The fallen and decayed trunks of trees of a 
l)revious generation were seen lying across the i»its.'' A shaft was 
subsequently sunk on the lode revealed by this trench, which aa as iu 
rich ground, to a great depth. The abandonment of this mass of cop- 
])er formerly gave rise to conjectures. It Avas supposed that the ancient 
miners were interrupted in their work "by some terrible pestilence 
- - - or by the breaking out of war; or, as seems not less probable, 
by the invasion of the mineral region by a barbarian race, ignorant of 
all the arts of the ancient Mound-builders of the Mississippi and of 
Lake Superior.^'* But from a consideration of tlie evidence of the 
character and scope of the old workings which we now possess it will 
be seen that it is unnecessary to go so far for an explanation. As was 
clearly the case at the Central and Mesnard mines and on Isle lioyale, 
the mass at the Minnesota was abandoned by the old miners because 
they found it im])ossible to get any more ])ieces from it. They had no 
tools which could cut it, and even at the present time mass copi)er is 
the least desirable form in which the metal i^resents itself in the mines, 
on account of the labor and expense of cutting it n\), although there 
are steel tools especially invented for the purpose. The practice of 
hammering oif pieces from mass copper is mentioned by visitors to the 
lake from the French missionaries down to Schoolcraft. There was a 
large mass on the Ontonagon, which has been in the Smithsonian Insti- 
tution for many years, which was considerably reduced iu size in this 
way in the course of a hundred and fifty years by casual visits, 

A great antiquity has been assigned to these workings by some 
writers, and it used to be supposed that a, Imsy industry was suddenly 
interru])ted in them at some time over five hundred years ago. The 
tiee with three hundred and ninety-five rings of growth has been used 
to support an argument that the Avorkings must have been abandoned 
at least as long ago as the middle of the fifteenth (century, or, to be 
exact, reckoning from 1847, before the year 14r)2, This A\M)uld be at 
least forty years before the voyage of Columbus and eighty-four years 
before Cartier visited Montreal. Although it may be true that Avork 
* Wilson ; I'rehialoric Man, \o\. i, p. 278, 


ceased at the particular trencli where that tree was felled at the date 
indicated, it does not necessarily follow that all the workings were 
abandoned at the same time. Indeed, the tree which grew on the 
dump of the pit Avhere the Minnesota mass was found did not begin its 
growth until over a hundred years later, or after the French had been 
up the St. Lawrence and there had been considerable traffic with 
Europeans on the seacoast. Hovr hmg a 2)<trtc ante the wliolc system 
had been worked can only be a matter of conjecture. When one 
reflects that many hundreds of men were busily engaged for several 
consecutive seasons, with all the feverish energy born of the modern 
thirst for gold, in the diggings of a)iy one of the i)lacer cam])S which 
are now seen abandoned in Idaho, Oregon, and California, it will be 
apparent that the old miners on Lalve Superior must have taken a long 
time for their leisurely work. Their tools were primitive, their work 
was desultory, and they knew nothing about the desire of wealth. 
Primitive peoples are supposed not to have prosecuted any industry 
.persistently and assiduously, like modern civilized men. Where there 
are no wages, no expenditures, no companies and employees, no stocks 
or fluctuations of the market, nothing even which can be called a 
demand, there is no need of pushing a laborious work. It was also, 
probably, only in the summer, and it may have been only at considera- 
ble intervals, that Keweenaw, Ontonagon, and Isle Eoyale were visited 
for copper. It must also not be forgotten that the ancient miners only 
carried away "barrel work." They were forced to abandon mass 
copper. Barrel work from the excavations and float copper froai the 
neighboring and remote drift wouhl furnish the material necessary for 
all the tools, weapons, and ornaments that have been found, and 
although the quantity of coi)per from these sources was small when 
reckoned in tons, yet the desultory and selective kind of mining which 
produced it, especially if carried on by a comparatively small number 
of persons over such an extensive territory as the mineral range of 
Keweenaw, would naturally require an indefinite length of time. 

From the historical references which will be presently considered, it 
will appear tiiat Keweenaw and Ontonagon' were known as a copper 
district at the time the French arrived in Canada. But as it has been 
inuigined that an extinct race superior in culture to Indians opened the 
trenches and mined copper there, it maybe well to give a comparatively 
modern instance of a similar search for copi)er by Indians l)efore taking 
U]) the historical argument. Such an instance is afforded in Hearne's 
narrative of his Journey from Prince of Wales's Fort in the Hudson's 
Bay Company's territory to the Coppermine River in 1771. Hearne 
was an employe of the Hudson's Bay Company, ami undertook the expe- 
dition in the interest of the company. His party was composed of 
Indians who were not very far removed in i>oint of culture from their 
savage stone-using ancestors of three or four generations previous, and 
no better idea could be gained of the character and life of neolithic man 


as lie was in that ])art of the world, of his methods of obtniiiiiig subsist- 
ence, liis <;eiieral decree of develoimieiit, and, incidentally, his stealtii 
and ferocity in attack on liis neolithic fellow men, than is contained in 
this book. After a journey of several months throuy,h barren wastes, 
dnrin*;' which he endured the fireatest hardshii)S and was in dan«;er of 
starvation, llearne reached the Coijperinine liivei', and, after his sav- 
ages had surprised and murdered some unsuspecting Esquimaux, he 
visited the copper '' mine," which he thus describes: ''This mine, if it 
deserve that appellation, is no more than an entire jumble of rocks and 
gravel, which has been rent many ways by an eartlnpiake. Through 
these ruins there runs a small river. The Indians who were the occa- 
sion of my undertaking this journey represented this mine to l)e so rich 
and valuable that if a factory were built at the river a ship might 
l)e ballasted with the ore instead of stone. - - - liy their account 
the hills were entirely composed of that metal, all in handy lumps like 
a heai> of pebbles. But their account differed so nun-h from the truth 
that 1 and almost all my companions exi)euded near four hours in 
search of some of this metal, with such i)Oor success that among ns all 
only one [)iece of any size could be found. This, however, was remark- 
ably good, and weighed above 4 ])ounds. I believe the copper has 
formerly been in much greater plenty; for in many places, both on the 
surface and in the cavities and crevices of the rocks, the stones are 
much tinged with verdigris." They afterwards found smaller ](ieces 
of the metal. 

He goes on to remark that the Indians imagined that every bit of 
copper they found resembled some object in nature, but hardly any two 
could agree what animal or i)art of an aninud a given piece was like. 
He also says that by the help of firc^ and two stones the Indians could 
beat a piece of eopi)er into any shape they wished. The Iiulians were 
really living in a copper age of their own. Hearne says: "Before 
Churchill lliver was settled by the Hudson's Bay ('onipany, which was 
not more than tifty years previous to this journey being undertaken, 
the northern Indians had no other metal but copper among them, 
except a small quantity of ironwork, which a, ])arty of them who vis- 
ited York Fort about the year ITlo or 1714 i)urchased, and a few pieces 
of old iron foun<l at ('hur<'hill Biver, which had undonl)tedly been left 
there by ("apt. Monk. This being the cas<', nnndx'rs ol" them from all 
(pKU'ters used every summei- to resort to these hills in search of coi>per, 
of which they made hatchets, ice-chisels, bayonets, kni\es, awls, arrow 
heads, etc. The many ])aths that had l)een beaten by the Indians on 
these occasions and which are yet in many places very i)erfect, espe- 
cially on tlw dry ridges and hills, is snri)rising. The Copper Indians set 
a gr<'at vahu; on their miti\'e metal even to this day, and i)refcr it to iron 
for almost every use exceptthat of a hatchet, a knife, and an awl; for 
these three necessary im])lements c()])pcr makes but a very i)oor substi- 
tute." The Esquimaux tents were plundered of their copper by 


Hearue's Indians. They found arrows ''shod with a triangular piece 
of bhick stone, like slate, or a piece of copper.'' " Their [the Esqui- 
maux] hatchets are made of a thick lump of copper, about 5 or G inches 
long and from 1^ to 2 inches square. They are bevelled away at one 
end like a mortise chisel. This is lashed into the end of a piece of wood 
about 12 or 14 inches long, in such a manner as to act like an adze; in 
general they are applied to the wood like a chisel and driven in with a 
heavy club instead of a mallet. Neither the weight of the tool nor the 
sharpness of the metal will admit of their being handled either as adze 
or ax with any degree of success." 

This testimony of a modern eye-witness to the working and use of 
co^jper by aborigines is very instructive, and it requires little imagina- 
tion to see that we have here a reproduction of the conditions that pre- 
vailed on Keweenaw Point two and three hundred years before. The 
summer visits of the miners, the manufacture of the copper into tools 
and weapons, some to be used in the neighborhood and others to be 
carried away for barter — for Hearne gives the rate of exchange between 
copper and iron from tribe to tribe — were doubtless the same in both 
cases; even the mythical or "medicine" feature of the subject, which 
was noticed by early writers in the stories of the Indians of Lake 
Superior, is not wanting here. The Coppermine story was that a 
woman (who was a magician) was the discoverer of the mine and used 
to conduct the Indians there every year. Becoming offended, she 
refused to accompany the men on one occasion when they left the place, 
after loading themselves with coi)per, but declared that she would sit 
on the mine until it sank with her into the ground. The next year 
when the men returned (women did not go on these ex2)editions) she 
had sunk to the waist and the quantity of copper had much decreased. 
On the next visit she had disappeared and the principal part of the 
copper with her, leaving only pieces here and there on the surface. 
Before this untoward event the copper was so plentiful that the Indians 
had only to turn it over and pick out such pieces as would best suit 
the different uses for which they intended it. 

From this account it will be seen that it is not necessary to imagine 
a mysterious and extinct race more advanced in industrial arts than 
Indians to account for the ancient mines on Lake Superior. Besides, 
other workings requiring as much labor have been carried on by Indians. 
The catlinite or j)ipestoue quarry in Minnesota was worked far into 
the i)resent century. The mica mines in North Carolina, which are 
now worked, were operated in a way and to an extent suggestive of the 
Lake Superior copper mines, and were abandoned, according to Prof. 
Kerr, the geologist who examined them, a little over three hundred 
years ago, or after the arrival of the whites. There are also novaculite 
mines in Arkansas, obsidian workings in the Yellowstone Park, soap- 
stone pottery quarries in several places in the Eastern States and iu 
California, and especially the astonishingly extensive workings at Flint 


Kidge, Licking County, Ohio, w licie cliert Avas mined and manufactured 
into various articles at " Avorksliops" on the grounds. Some of these 
various diggings were uii<h>ubtedly the work of "Indians;" wliat the 
others were must be left to arcba'ologists to decide. All give evidence 
that the natives of the country were close observers and i)ossessed 
a considerable degree of skill in detecting and obtaining the various 
minerals which pleased their taste or were of use in tl eir simple lives. 

The reason which has been given for supposing that the ancient 
miners on Lake Superior had disappeared before the arrival of the 
whites is that the Indians made no mention of the mines to the French 
and had no tradition about them. But the first French explorers of 
the St. Lawrence, who lett a record of their voyage, were informed by 
the Iiuliaus even of the (xulf — over 1,500 miles away— that copper came 
from a distant country in the west, and this statement was confirmed 
as they proceeded up the river. The same story was repeated a hun- 
dred years later, after settlements had l>een made, and it persisted until 
the source of the copper was found. 

In the account of C-artier's second voyage, in la.');"), given in Hakluyt, 
it is stated that the natives of the south shore of the (hilfof St. Law- 
rence informed him that the way to Canada was toward the west, and 
that the north shore betbre Canada was reached was the beginning of 
Saguenay, "and that thence comnu'th the red coi)per of them named 
Caignetdage."'' Subsequently, at Hochelaga (Montreal), the natives 
described to the French the voyage up the St. Lawrence and the Ottawa 
to Saguenay. "^Moreover, they showed us with signs that the said 
three fals being i>ast, a nmn nnglit sayle the space of three moneths 
more alongst that river, and that along the hills that are on the north 
side there is a great river which (even as the other) commeth from the 
west, we thought it to be the river that runneth through the countrey 
of Saguenay; and without any sign or question mooved or asked of 
them, they tooke the chayne of our Captaines whistle which was of 
silver, and the dagger-haft of one of our fellow Mariners, hanging on 
his side being of yellow cojjper gilt, and shewed us that such stufife 
came from the said Iliver." " Our Captaiiui shewed them redde copper, 
which in their language they call Caignetadze, and looking towards 
that countrey fin a ditt'erent dii-ection from Saguenay], with signs asked 
them if any came from thence, they shaking their heads answered no; 
bat they shewed us that it came from Saguenay." "But the right and 
ready way to go to Saguenay is up that way to Hochelaga [Montreal], 
and then into anothei' | river] that commeth from Saguenay ]the Ottawa] 
and then entei-etli into the foresaid river ]th<^ St. Lawrence] aiul that 
there is yet one moneths sayling tliither. Moreover they told us and 
gave us to understand that there are people - - - and many 
inhabited towns and that they have great store of gold and red copper 
- - - and that beyond Saguenay the said river entereth into two or 
three great lakes, and that there is a sea of fresh water found, and as 


they have heard say of those of Saguenay, there was never iiiau heard of 
that fouud out the end thereof, for as they tokl us they themselves 
were never there." 

Allowing for the difirtculty of communicating by signs and the many 
chances of misunderstanding, of which the interpretation of the Indian 
signs to mean gold is doubtless an instance, this is a geographical descrip- 
tion which can almost be followed on the map, and the account shows 
that the St. Lawrence Indians knew that the copper they had came from 
a place in the west where there were great lakes and a " sea of fresh 
water." This was all hearsay with them, as they had never visited the 
distant country, which was inhabited by other tribes. But it seems 
evident enough that there was at that time a widely diffused knowledge 
of the source of the copper, which would hardly have been the case if 
the supiily had ceased two or three generations before. When, over a 
hundred years later, French settlements had been established and 
traders and missionaries began to push forward to the great " sea of 
fresh water," they continually encountered the statement that copper 
could be found on its shores, and Indian guides tiually took them to 
the precise localities where the metal had formerly been mined, and 
whence it was still occasionally obtained. Copper specimens, some- 
times of large size, all reported as coming from Lake Suijerior, were 
not uncommon, at this time, as the following extracts show, and it seems 
evident that Indians still visited the old diggings and carried away 
such pieces of copper as they could iind. 

The Abbe Sagard, who was a missionary to New France about the 
year 1030, gave an account of the resources of the country in his 
"Graml Voyage du pays des Hurons," jjublished at Paris inl63L*. He 
did not penetrate as far as the upper lakes, but says that there were 
copper mines in that distant country which might prove profitable if 
there was a white population to support them and miners to work them, 
which would be the case if colonies were established. He saw a speci- 
men of co])per from the mines, which, he says, Avere 80 or 100 leagues 
distant from the country of the Hurons. In Margry's Decoureiies et 
etahlinsements des Francais, Premiere partie, voyages des Francais surles 
grands lacs^ 1614-1684, p. 81, is an extract fr<nn a letter relating to an 
exploration for cojjper written by Sieur Patoulet in Canada to Colbert 
in Paris. It is dated at Quebec, November 11, IGOO, and is as follows: 
"Messrs. Joliet and Pene, to whomJM. Talon paid 100 and 400 livres 
resjiectively, to exi)l()re for the copper deposit which is above Lake 
Ontario, specimens iron) which you have seen, and ascertain if it is abund- 
ant, easy to work, and if there is easy transportation hither, have uotyet 
returned. Tlie first named should have been here in September, but 
there is no news of him yet, so that a report of what may be expected 
of the mine must be postponed until next year." On page 05 of the 
same volume is a letter from Jean Talon to the king, dated Quebec, 
November L>, 1071, in which occurs the following reference to copper, 


one locality of wliicli had then become known: " The copper specimen 
from Lake Superior and the ^'antaoiui^on (Ontonagon) Iviver which I 
send, indicates that there is some deposit or some river bank which 
yichls this substance in as pure a state as could be wislied, and more 
than 20 rrenchmen have seen a mass of it in the lake which they esti- 
mate at eight hundred weight. The Jesuit fathers among the Ottawas 
use an anvil of tliis metal which weighs about 100 pounds. It only 
remains to tind the source of these detached pieces." lie then gives 
some description of the Ontonagon lliver, in which he attempts to 
account for the tormation in situ of the copper specimens fonnd in its 
neighborhood ({jalcis de ee mc.sfrdl, evidently float copper), and goes on 
to say: "It is to be hoped that the frequent Journeys of the Indians 
and French, who are beginning to make expeditions in that direction, 
will rt^sult in the discovery of the place which furnishes such pure 
metal, and that without expense to the king." 

The passages from the Jesuit Kelations, which have been often quoted 
in this connection, show that the mining districts were well known to 
the Indians. Father Dablon, in the Kelations for l()01)-'70, describes 
these places, of which he was informed by the Indians. The tirst was 
Michipicoten Island, on the east shore of the lake ; then came St, Ignace, 
on the north shore, and then Isle Koyale, "celebrated for its copper, 
where could be seen in the cliffs several beds of red copper separated 
from each other by layers of earth." The other principal locality was 
the Ontonagon river, from which place the French had received a cop- 
per specimen three years previously wliich weighed 100 pounds. The 
Indian (Ottawa) women of this region, the father says, while digging 
holes for corn, used to find pieces of copi»er (float copper) weighing 10 
and I'O pounds. A hundred years later Alexander Henry mentions the 
same thing of this locality, and adds that the Indians beat the pieces 
of cojjper into bra(;elets and spoons. Father Dablon goes on to say 
tliat opinions diflered as to the place the Ontonagon copper came from 
sonui thinking it was near the forks of the river and along the eastern 
branch (near the old workings), while other guessers placed it elsewhere. 

The informati(»n tlie Indians gave was not si)ontaneous, for b'ather 
Dablon says that it ie(|uired some address to induce them to reveal the 
mineralogical secrets which they wished to conceal from the whites. 
This reluctance to give information about mineral localities has sur- 
vived down to a very recent period, and stories are known to the older 
residents of the coi)])er district, some of them amusing enough, illus- 
trating this trait. At all events. Father Dablon's Indians knew pre- 
cisely where the old mining localities were. He says he was assured 
that in the land to the south there were deposits (ininc.siti the French 
word) of the metal in various places. He had just been speaking of 
Keweenaw Point, but the connection is not close enough to wai-rant 
the inferenc.e that he meant immediately to the south of the point. If 
that could be shown, there would be a diiect reference to the "dig- 
gings" on the peninsula. 


But most of the misapprehension in this matter has arisen from the 
use of the misleading term " mine" in connection with this district- 
We associate witli that term shafts or tunnels and under-ground work, 
ings, none of which ever existed on the lake. The ancient miners weie 
not miners in the proper sense of the word as were those prehistoric 
men who mined copper ore iu the Tyrol, or those other prehistoric minevs 
who sank shafts and ran drifts in the chert deposits of Belgium. On 
the contrary, they were, as has been abundantly shown, only surface 
prospectors, and appear to have dug for copper wherever they happened 
to find it. If the pieces were loose float in the gravel, as at the Quincy 
location, and as the Ottawa squaws found them at Ontonagon, in 1(!70, 
and the later Indians in Henry's and Schoolcraft's time, well and good, 
they " mined " them and beat them into shape. If the copper was in 
huge masses on the surface as at the Mesnard they "mined" it in that 
shape by working off pieces with their stone hammers. If the copper 
was fast in the rock they broke it out by hammering the rock away 
from it, and if the rock extended into the ground they dug down around 
it, broke away what " barrel work " they could, and treated the " mass " 
as they did that already dug for them on the surface. They had uo 
idea corresponding to the word mine. Hence there is no apparent 
reason why there should have been mu(;h of a distinction in the minds 
of people who were not miners between jjlaces where they dug copjjer 
out of the gravel, as in the trenches at Quincy, and places where they 
were obliged to dig around rocks to obtain it. 

It is largely the undue emj)hasis upon the idea of mining that has led 
writers to create another race than the Indians to practice that skilled 
art on Keweenaw Point, Isle Royale, and the Canadian shore. The false 
or exaggerated idea has led to an equally exaggerated inference. All 
this is wen illustrated in a passage in Wilson's "Prehistoric Man," 
describing an interview with an old Chippewa chief some fifty years 
ago. He was asked about the ancient copper miners, and declared that 
he knew nothing about them. The Indians, he said, used to have copper 
axes, but until the French came and blasted the rocks with powder 
they had no traditicms of the copper mines being worked. His fore- 
fathers used to build big canoes and cross the lake to Isle Royale, where 
they found more copper than anywhere else. This is a distinct tradition 
enough of one famous copper locality — Isle Royale — although it maybe 
unreliable from its late date, but the story shows how the belief that 
the Indians had no tradition of the old mines could originate. The old 
chief very properly denied knowing about a thing that never existed. 
His ancestors never carried on mining, but only digging. Deep mines, 
where blasting is done, which very likely he had seen, were, of course, 
unknown to them. 

Like this old chief. Father Dablon's Indians showed full traditional 
knowledge when tliey told him of the mineral localities where, several 
generations before, copj)er had been extensively dug. The ancient 


trenches in the woods had long been covered and contained no visibh; 
copper. They possessed only an antiquarian interest to which the 
Indians were strani^ers. and also, as Father Dablon relates, his Indian 
iViends were not disposed to give more information than they could 

The first systematic exploring or "i)rospecting" party to search for 
the Ontonagon lode was sent out from (Quebec about the same year that 
Father Dablon described the place, viz, 1G()9. The expedition returned 
without accomplishing its object for want of time, and was met on Lake 
Erie by La Salle's jyarty going to tne Mississippi. No mining was done 
there until a hundred years later under Alexander Henry, 

The foregoing extracts from the account of Cartier's voyage, the 
Abbe Saga rd, the Jesuit Relations, and Margiy, show the continuity 
of the ancient or pre-Columbian raining on Lake Superior and the mod- 
ern. As soon as the French arrived at the St. Lawrence in 1535, they 
found the natives knowing proj)ortionately as much about the distaut 
source of the copper they i)ossessed as the ordinary e.astern citizen does 
now. Over a hundred years later, after settlements had been made, 
there was still living knowledge that copper came from Lake Superior, 
and especially the Ontonagon River, Avhere it was easy to find float 
copper. But during this long i)eriod active importation of European 
articles had been going on so that, as the Chippewa chief exi)lained, 
native industries, including tlie search for copjter, luid been interrupted. 
Iron articles, knives, hatchets, weapons, and innununable other desira- 
ble things made it unnecessary for the Indians to exert themselves in 
ex])k)iting the old source of supply. Rut when the French began to 
imiuire for coi)per they were taken to the precise localities where tlie 
metal had formerly been obtained which, like all nnning districts, were 
fall of abandoned and forgotten workings, and tliey were shown the 
metal in i)lace. 

Native copper, as has been said, occurs sparingly in several places 
in the eastern part of the country. In the Appalachian region ores olt 
copper occiu" and have been extensively mined, but native copi)er does 
not occur there except as a mineialogical rarity. Nevertheless it has 
been suggested that co])per was produced in that ]»art of the country 
in pre-Columbian times. If tliis were so there should be evidences q; 
old mines and of smelting operations of some kind, because copper ore 
must be smelted to produce the nietak No old workings in that region 
have, however, yet been identified as pre-Columbian copi)er mines, and 
no trac<>s of aboriginal smelting have be<'n discovered to support the 
suggestion. Ancient mica mines have, indeed, been discovered in 
North Carolina which are now worked, but if the Indians rained for 
copper at all in tiiat nniieral district the fact remains to be i)roved- 
Moreover, the Smithsonian collection, so far from showing a compara 
tive abundance of copper articles from tlie Appalachian region, as 
Avould be ex])e('ted if it had been a center of distribution like Kewee- 
11. .^lis. lU 13 


iiaw and Uiitonagon in the North, has remarkably few copper relics 
from the Carolinas, Georgia, Alabama, and Tennessee. Tlie idea 
doubtless arose from the statements in the accounts of the ^Spanish 
explorers of this region and of the French and English colonies on the 
coast. De Soto's march was a continuous pursuit of an ignis fatuiis. 
He was told that gold or copper and other riches were in the Appala- 
chians, and was kept i)erpetually on the move after them, while they 
eluded him in the most tantalizing manner. He did find pearls, and 
probably in large quantities; the contents of graves show that that 
form of wealth really existed. But that other form of wealth — "a 
melting of gold or copper" — which he coveted, kept moving before him 
from town to town and tribe to tribe all through his weary journey^ 
and he never found it. The Spaniards on the Florida coast in the follow- 
ing years were persuaded that there was great mineral wealth of some 
kind in the Appalachians, and told of a town in the region where the 
minerals were supposed to be, which they called La Grand Copal. This 
tovrn was said to be GO leagues northwest of St. Helena, on the South 
Carolina coast. 

De Soto's march was undertaken in 1539. In 1562 the French estab 
lished a short lived colony at Port Eoyal, S. C, under Capt. Kibault, 
which was succeeded two years later by another at the river of May 
(tlie St. John's), in charge of Eeue Laudonniere, the history of which, 
with its tragic end, was brought prominently to notice by Parkman 
some years ago. Laudonniere wrote a full description of the resources 
of the country, in the course of which he says (Hakluyt's translation), 
" there is found amongst the savages good quantitie of gold and silver 
which is gotten outof theshippes that are lost upon the coast, as 1 have 
understood by the Savages themselves. They use traffique thereof one 
witli another. And that which maketh me the rather believe it, is that 
on the coast towards the cape, where commonly the shippes are cast 
away, there is more store of silver than towards the north. Neverthe 
less, they say that in the mountains of Appalatcy there are mines of 
copper, which I thinke to be golde." From these mountains came " two 
stones of fine christal," which ATere presented to the French, together 
with a number of pearls, and they learned from the Indians that there 
was "an infinite quantity of slate stone, wherewith they made wedges 
to cleave their wood," in the same mountains. A " king" of the coun- 
try lying near these mountains sent Laudonniere '' a i^lateof a miuerall 
that came out of this mountaine, out of the foot whereof there runneth 
a streame of golde or copper, as the savages thinke, out of which they 
dig up the sand with an hollow and drie cane of reed until the cane be 
full; afterward theyshake it, and hnde that there are many small graines 
of copper and silver among tliis sand ; which giveth them to understand 
that some rich mine must needs be in the mountaine." 

If the Spaniards had not been '' prospecting" through this part of 
the country twenty years before, this Trould be a most interesting 


account of jniinitive painiin.ii\ nii opeiation faiiiiliar to nil uold ]>i'0- 
spectors and known in many i)aits of the world. Jhit the snspicion 
arises that tlie Indians bad watclicd the Spaniards oi)eiatin<;' in tliis 
way in the streams in their search for gold and were describing; their 
method. The description, moreover, could not apply to coi)])er, 
although it is true of gohl, which is found in the sands of the streams, 
and is "panned out" in the manner described. The etfortto find coi)- 
per from this mineral region was unavailing. On JJibaidt's arrival to 
succor Laudonniere's ]iarty, tlie Indians offered to conduct him, in a 
few days' journey, to the mountains of Apalatcy. "Jn those mouu- 
taines, as they sayd, is found redder co})per, which they call in their 
language Sieroa Pira, which is as much to say asredde mettal],wheieof 
1 had a piece, wliich at the very instant I showed to Captaine Eibault, 
which <'aused his gold finer to make an assay thereof, which reported 
unto him that it was ]).erfect golde." This assay confirms, or perhaps 
was the cause of, Lau<lonniere's surmise that the copper of Apalatcy 
was gold. Jt is not easy to understand at this distance Avhy there 
should have been any difliculty in recognizing the metal at once. 
There was evidently some misunderstanding or misinterpretation of 
the questions and the answers between the French and Indians in ref- 
erence to the red metal, so that while the French meant <-opper the 
Indians understood gold. At any rate, the French saw no copper from 
the Ai)palachians. 

Sir AValter Ealeigli planted a cohmy at Eoanoke Island in l.">8r), of 
which Kalph Lane was su])erintendent. Jle, also, soon heard of min- 
eral wealth in the mountains to the west, and was eager to find copper 
there. It must be remembered that it was a great disappointment in 
Europe to find that the land which Columbus and his successors had 
discovered was a continent, and incessant attempts were made to find a 
way through or around it to the south seas and (-athay, which were 
continued into the ]>reseidj century. Therefore lva]i»h liane wrote that 
'* the discoverie of a good mine by the goodnesse of Ciod, or a passage 
to the south sea. or some way to it, and nothing els can bring this 
countrey in request to be inhabited ])y our nation." And particularly 
with reference to the rumoied mine to the west, he says: "And that 
which made me most desirous to have sonuMloings with the Mangoaks,* 
either in friendship or otherwise to have had one or two of them pris- 
oners, Avas, for that it is a thing most notorious to all the countrey, 
that thei'e is a Province to the which the said Mangoaks have recourse 
and trafi(|U(Mip that river of Monatoc (lloanoke) which hath a jnar- 
\-eilons and most strange Minerall. Thif* mine fs so notorious amongst 
them as not only to the savages dwelling up the said river aiul also to 
the sa^•ages of the Chawanook, and. all them to the Westward, but also 
to all them of the maine; the countrey's name is of fame and is called 
('haunis Temoatan. 

Indians wlio lived in Vir<i:inia. near the Noitli Carolina line. 


"The uiinerall they say is Wassader which is copper, but they call 
by the name of wassader every mettall whatsoever; they say it is of 
the colour of our copper, but our copper is better than theirs, and the 
reason is for that it is redder and harder, whereas, that of Chauuis 
Temoatan is very soft and pale. - - - Of this mettall the Man- 
goaks have so great store, by report of all the savages adjoining, that 
they beautify their houses with great i)lates of tlie same." Chauuis 
Temoatan, or the mineral country, was said to be twenty days' journey 
from the Mangoaks. 

This account contains a variation of the descrii)tion given the French 
twenty years before, of washing or panning out, but in the English 
account there is a distinct reference to melting or smelting. The Indi- 
ans told Lane that after the material from the stream was caught in a 
bowl it was "cast into a lire, and forthwith it melteth, and doeth yield 
in live parts at the first melting, two parts of mettall for three parts of 
oare." It is impossible to understand this statement as it stands. It 
may ]»ossibly have referred to the use of fire in getting out the mica, or 
may have been a tradition of some Spanish operations obscured by 
time and confused by interpretation. The story survived into the next 
century. The English, however, did not see this operation, nor did 
they see any " greate plates" of copper. The 0]ily things of the kind 
were small, probably like those found in graves and mounds. "An 
hundred and fifty miles into the maine," Lane continues, " in two towns 
we saw divers small plates of copper, that had been made, as we under- 
stood, by the inhabitants that dwell further into the country, where, as 
they say, are mountains and rivers that yield also white grains of 
mettall wijich is to be deemed silver." If the Indians had possessed 
large plates the English would doubtless have seen them as well as the 
small, and some of them would have turned up before now, as the 
smaller ones have, in graves. 

That extensive mines really existed in the region indicated by the 
Indians, which produced a peculiar mineral in abundance, Avill appear 
when we put together the Spanish, French, and English accounts of the 
rumored mineral wealth and the region from which it came, and com- 
pare them with the results of modern discovery. The Spaniards were 
after gold, and learned, as they believed, that it was to be found in the 
Appalachians, because when they asked after a country rich in mineral 
they were referred there. Laudonniere sx)eaks of a singular mineral 
which was sent to him, which occurred in plates and was found in the 
ApiJalachians, together with "christal" and slate stone; and Kalph 
Lane hears of a "marvellous and strange" mineral which occurred in 
large plates with which the Indians adorned their houses. The mine, he 
says, was " notorious" in the M^liole country, and was in the mountains 
to the west of Ivoanoke, This mineral, which was not copper or any 
ore of copper, occurring in large plates which were paler and softer 
than copper, was undoubtedly mica, and the ancient mines Avhich were 


tlie cause oi" the early milling exeiteineiit were rediscovered in tlie 
monntains of Xortli Caioliiia in 18(>8, Prof. Kerr, wlio was State geol- 
ogist of North Carolina, thus describes them:* "There is one poiut of 
great inteiest connected with the history of inica-niiiiing in this State 
which it is worth while to refer to in this connection. This industry 
is not really new here; it is only revived. Thei)resent shai'ts and tunnels 
are continually cutting into ancient shafts and tunnels, and hundreds 
of the spurs and lidges of the mountains, (all over iAIitchell County espe- 
cially), are found to be honeycondjcd with ancient workings of great 
extent, of which no one knows the date or history. In ISOS uiy atten- 
tion was first called to the existence of old mine holes, as they are 
called in the region. lU'ing invited to visit some old Sptaiish .silrer 
mines a few miles south of Bakersville, 1 found a dozen <n- nioK^ open 
pits, 40 to 50 feet wide by To to 100 feet lo]ig, filled up to 15 or 20 of 
depth, disposed along the slo[>ing crest of a long terminal ridge or spur 
of a neighboring mountain. The excavated earth was ])iled in huge 
heai)s about the margins of the pits, and the whole overgrown with the 
heaviest forest trees, oaks, and chestnuts, some of them 3 feet or more 
in diameter and some of the largest belonging to a former generation 
of forest growth, fallen and decayed, facts which indicate a mininuim 
of not less than three hundred years. There is no appearance of a mineral 
vein and no clew to the object of these extensive works, unless it was to 
ol)tain the large plates of mica, or crystals of kyanite, both of which 
abound in the coarse graidte rock. - - - Since the develoi)ment of 
mica-mining on a large scale in .AI itched and the adjoining counties it 
has been ascertained that there are hundreds of old pits and connecting 
tunnels among the spurs and knobs and ridges of this rugged region, 
and there remains no doul)t that irnning was carried on here for ages 
and in a very systematic and skillful way; for among all the scores of 
mines recently opened, I am inlbrmcd that scarcely one has turned out 
l)rolitably which did not follow the old workings and strike the ledges 
wrought by those ancient nuners. The pits aw. always open 'dig- 
gings,' never regular shafts; and the earth and debris often amount to 
enormous heaps.*' 

This description would api>ly almost word Ibr word (o the Lake 
Superior coi)per diggings. The mineral is taken out in large lumjis, .SO 
or .10 up to several hundred pounds in weight, which split icadily into 
plates or sheets, sometimes A feet in diameter, and would cut 10 by 20 
inches. The common forms are 2 or .'> by 4 or <> inches. All Ihis con- 
firms and explains very fully the statements of the Spanish, Fr(>nch, and 
English explorers aiul colonists of the sixteenth century. >row that 
we know what the mineral or "mettall" was, we understand and can 
explain away the confusion which arose in the inquiry after coi)i)er. 
Tiie thing which was valuable to the Indians, so valual)le that they 
adorned their dwellings with it and ]»laced it, with other valuables, in 

"Report of tbo f!cologi(^aI Siirv(!.v of North Carolina, vol. i, 1875, j). 300. 


tbeir graves, was naturally prominent iu their minds when the strangers 
were inquisitive about riches, and tliey answered according to their 
light. It does not appear that copper was known to the Southern 
Indians except as an article of barter, as it was all along the coast, but 
mica held the place with them in point of production that copper occu- 
pied with the Northern Indians. 

Reviewing, now, the whole evidence— historical, mineralogical, and, 
to a slight extent, archiii'ological — it appears that when this continent 
was revealed to Europeans the natives of the country were in the full 
neolithic period, but were using copper to a slight extent. They were 
probably mining it in a desultory way in the Keweenaw workings just 
as they were mining mica in the mountains of Isorth Carolina. How 
long this had been going on it is impossible to say. The metal was 
principally used for ornamental purposes in the South, where it was 
scarce, but where it was plentiful, in the North, and particularly toward 
the center of production, it was put to a i)ractical use. There is at 
present no evidence that the Indians had any knowledge of smelting, 
which art is necessary to a real metal age. The progress from stone, 
through copper, to bronze could hardly be expected on the northern and 
eastern parts of this continent, because there was no tin available in 
the northern and eastern parts of the country with which to make 
bronze. To be sure the Indians had distant neighbors in Mexico and 
Central and Southern America, some of whom possessed the rudiments 
of smelting and were in an incii^ient bronze "age," from whom a knowl- 
edge of smelting, whereby copper could be obtained from its ores, 
might possibly have been acquired in the course of centuries by the 
slow process of aboriginal intercourse, if all native industrial develop- 
ment had not been interrupted by the intervention of Europeans. As 
it was, however, it seems clear that metallurgy was not known among 
the North American Indians when this continent was discovered. 


Bv E. Tkegeak. 

Pei'liiips ono ot'tlie most puzzlinu' inoblems known to aiitliropolo,iiists 
is to aceoniit foi- the apparent dislike shown by the fair Polynesians 
for the use of the bow^ and arrow. They fonnd the mighty weapon of 
tlie arelier in the hands ot almost every Melanesiau or Papuan inliabi- 
tant of the neighboring- islaudvS; they had experience of its fatal powers, 
and yet, except in the case of tlie Tongans, the weapons appeared to 
be viewed with disfavor and neglect. 

The bows used by the Tongans in the days of Cook were slight and 
by no means powerful instruments. Each bow was titted with a single 
arrow of reed, which was carried in a groove cut for that purpose along 
the side of the bow itself. By the time that mariner arrived among 
these islanders, in 18()(), they had possessed themselves of more power- 
ful bows and arrows, probably j)rocured from Fiji or imitated from 
Fijian weapons, as constant intercourse of either warlike or pacific 
character was then going on between the Friendly and Fijian islands. 
Moreover, they had also procured guns at that epoch. 

Tlie Hawaiian weai)ons were spears, javelins, clubs, stone axes, 
knives, and slings; the use of the bow being contiiied to rat shooting. 
The Tahitians used the bow only as a sacred ])laything; the bows, 
arrows, quiver, etc., being kept in a certain place in charge of appointed 
persons and brought out on stated occasions. The arrow was not 
aimed at a mark, but merely shot off' as a test of strength and skiil, 
one archer trying to shoot farther than another. The Samoans did 
not use the bow, but fought with the club and spear, the sling being 
the missile weapon, as it also was in the Mar<piesas. 

In regard to New Zealand, the subject has been handled at any 
length only by two writers. The first was JMr. C Phillips, whose 
paper appeared in the Transactions of the Xcw Zealand Institute, vol. 
X, p. 97. The article did not deal with the bow pro})er so nuich as with 
the weapon known to the Maoris as kotaha, which consists of a sfick 
and whip with wiiich a spear is thrown. ^Ir. Phillips made some 
incidental remarks on this paper, which ])rovoked Mr. Colenso to reply 
in an article published in the Transactions of the Xeic Zealand Institute, 
vol. XI, p. 100. 

*Froin The Journal of tlie Polynesian iSocktij (Welliuf^ton, New Zcahind), for April, 
1892; Vol. I, pp. 56-59. 



Mr. Coleuso's argunieiit, briefly summarized, refers to the subject as 
follows. He considers — 

First. That the bows and arrows found in the hands of Maori children 
were probably imitated from models shown to them by Tupaea, the 
Tahitian interpreter brought to New Zealand by Capt. Cook, or, per- 
haps, fiom models shown by foreigners, some of whom — notably a 
Hindoo, a Manpiesan, and a Tahitian — were resident among the Maoris 
when the Kev. Mr. M;irsdeu arrived in 1814. 

Se<'ond. That neither Tasmaii, Cook, Parkinson, Forster, Crozet, 
Polack, Cruise, Nicholas, Marsden, nor any other of the early visitors 
to New Zealand mention seeing the bow or hearing of its use. That 
Mr. Colenso himself, m his frequent journeys about the country (in 1834) 
and continual listenings to stories of war, never heard of the bow 
being used in combat. 

Tliird. That there is no mention in old legends of the bow being 
used as a weapon, either in the stories of the destruction of monsters, 
the deaths of chiefs in battle, or in the lists of arms, although these 
lists are given with great fidelity and attention to detail. 

Of these three divisions, the first is not scientifically decisive. It is 
possible, and even probable, that the jMaoris were taught the use of 
the bow by early visitors, but it can not now be proven. The bow 
might have been kept as a childish toy, although not used as a 
weapon; exactly, for examiile, as with the modern English, with whom 
bows and arrows are playthings, although but a few years ago (ethno- 
logically speaking) they were the national weapons. 

The second argument is from negative evidence. There may have 
been bows and arrows in New Zealand, and yet they may not have 
been produced or si)oken of in the presence of new-comers; but that 
such a reticence occurred is most imiu'obable, and, although the evi- 
dence IS negative, it is of great value. Few impartial people will 
belive that the bow was a weapon of the New Zealander during the last 
century if no explorer or missionary saAV or heard of it.* 

The third argument is an exceedingly important one. If in the lists 
of weapons mentioned in New Zealand tradition the bow has no place, 
the conviction left in the minds of most Maori scholars will be that the 
omission marks the absence of the bow itself from Maori knowledge.t 

Time, however, has a modifying effect on opinion, and the one thing 
certain to come to the interested student of anthropology is a wonder- 
ing faith in the power of Time to dissolve and form and redissolve not 

*In the Aiiclland Weckh/ Is^'eirs of April 16, 1892, is au account of an old Pakclia- 
Maori named John Harmon, who came to New Zealand a child in 1805, and is now 
dead. "He told a tale of a battle between the Ngati-whatua and the N»ati-maru in 
the Thames Valley which was fought out with bows and arrows." It would jier- 
haps be well if some member of this Society resident among either of these tribes 
would make inquiries among the old men as to what circumstance gave rise to Har- 
mon's story. 

+ 0n the other hand, I do not know of any list of weapons or legend of monster- 
killing which includes the kolaha as a weapon. Yet I am informed by Mr. Percy 
Smith that not only was lie shown an old ruined pa which Avas couqueicd by spears 
or darts throAvn more than a quarter of a mile by means of the '• whip," but that he 
k nows that they wcie in use at least two hundred years ago. 


only tlie tribos of the cartli, but our Icnowh'd.m' t'onceniiu.u' tlicni. I 
received lately a lettei' IVoiu u iVieud in IIk^ north of the North Ishmd 
of New Zealand, who iiilbriued inc th;it in di.Q^uing' a drain upon his 
property at Manuapai he eanie upon ai bow in a. i)erfect state of [)reser- 
vation. It was lyin<;- in a bed of sandy clay, the surface of which was 
apparently undisturbed and vir5j;iu. The tinder proceeded (in the usual 
fashiou which horrities arclueologists) to clean his treasure trove; but, 
luckily, before Ik- had tinished his work of scraping' and oiling the bow, 
a friend interfered, and the original soil adheics to a portion of the 

I have deposited the bow in the ^Museum for safe-kee]»iug. It is C 
feet 43 inches in length ; in shape reseuibUng the bows of Fiji, the New 
Hebrides, and other ^lelanesian islands, it is almost certainly a war- 
bow, and it would try the strength of an athletic nuin to draw an arrow 
to the head upon so stiff au arc. It was unaccompanied by any lelics 

Several methods of accounting for the deposit of the bow in the 
locality might be suggested. It might have been buried in modern 
times by a Euroiiean or by a A'isiting native of the South Sea islands. 
This is improbable, as the weapon must have been of some value to its 
owner, and is too large to have been easily lost. Again, the bow, if 
not a Maori we;ipon, might have belonged to some prehistoric; inhabi- 
tant. There seems to be a concensus of tradition that tlie Polynesian 
and Malayan islands were once peo])led by races exterminated or 
driven inland by the present occupiers of the seaward positions. In 
New Zealand many scholars believe that the I*Iaori immigration dis- 
possessed a peoi)le then in occupation.* If, on farther testing, the bow 
should be found to be of Melanesiau pattern, but of New Zealand wood, 
it would strengthen the theory that a people of Melanesian (u-igin once 
occui)ied this country. 

The evidence brought forward by Mr. Colenso in his paper nuikes it 
almost certain that no Maori within historical times has used the bow 
as a weapon. But did the ancient Maori use the bow ? If we turn to 
comparative philology the auswc^r is probably in the afSrmative. The 
evidence stands thus: 

MAr.AVsiA. , Cajeli, j;rtHa/i, a l>ow. 

iMaliiy, panah, a Itow. 
Java, imnah, a bow. 
Boutoii, opana, a bow. 
Salayer, panah, a bow. 

Massaratty, panal, a loow. 
Ahtiago, h(inah, a bow. 
IJaJH, pandh, a bow. 
Magiiulano, j;fl«</, an arrow. 

*Mucli of iuterest ou this .suVt.ject can bo foiuul in Major Giulgooirs articles in tlio 
Monthly Jierietv (Wellington, New Zealand, Lyon and IJlair), vol. 11, pp. 585 and 
517. See also the article on iliut arrowheads ibiiiid near Wellington, by Ah-. T. W. 
Kirk, Transactions of the Nero Zealand Instihilr, \iii, .|!i(i. 

tit is said by Malay scholars that the Malay word panah, "a bow," is connected 
with the Sanscrit word rann or hana, "arrow.'' This v.ariation as to "bow" and 
"arrow" may be fonnd in the islands; bnt, il' connectetl with Sanscrit, the word 
"goes asliore" into Asia. 




Tagal, jjttJia, a liow. 
Bisaj^a, pan a, a bow. 


Nengoiie, pehna, a Low. 

Aueityuni, fana, a bow. 

Rotuma, /«», a bow. 

Fiji, /axa, to sboot with a bow. 

Fiji, vana, to slioot. 

Eddystone Island, umhuna, au arrow. 

New Britain, panah, a bow. 

Sauta Cruz, nepna, an arrow. 

Florida, ranalii, to shoot. 


Tahiti, /««<(, a bow; fa'a-fana, to guard 

*Toiigau, fana, to shoot; the act of 

Samoan, fana, to shoot; fa nan, a bow; 

aufana, a bow; udfana, a volley of 

Hawaiian, pana, a bow; to shoot as an 

arrow; panapuu, an archer, 
Rarotongan, ana, a bow (dialect drops/ 

and «'/(). 
Marquesan, pana, a bow. 
Fntuna, /«M(f, a- bow; to hunt. 

lu these comijaratives avo have evideuce in a direct cliaiii tlirougli 
tLe Malay, Melanesiaii, and Polyuesian islands of a clearly marked 
word /awf* gv pana, as "bow," the probable root being y/ ¥A^ or 
■v/ PHAIf. In New Zealand the equivalent for the Polynesian i^is 
TT'if (as fare, '^ a house," becomes ichare, etc.); consequently we must 
expect to find the word as whana. The Maori word whana means "to 
recoil or spring back as a bow;" ''a spring made of a bent stick, as a 
trap." When we compare the compound words, tawhana, bent like a 
bow; l-owhana, bent, bowed; Itorowhana, bent, bowed, etc., there can 
be little doubt but that whana. originally with the Maori meant what 
it did with all other Pacific islanders, viz, "a bow," and that they 
knew its use as a weapon. Just as the Maori words amatiatia, taurna^ 
etc., for the double canoe or ontriggered canoe prove former use, even 
though the modern Maori knows notbing of such vessel. The other 
Maori forms, pana., "to thrust away," and lu^nga, "to throw," have 
taken slightly divergent meanings. 

The Maori word pcwa, meaning " arched, bow-shaped," and " the 
eyebrows" (with its comiDOund, koroptewa, " a loop or bow") also proba- 
bly signified a weapon. Petva has been iDreserved as "bow" by the 
Motu people of New Guinea (a Polynesian colony among Papuans), but 
may be a foreign word, since it has no universahty in the Pacific as 
farm has. 

* On page 61 of Mr. Codrington's " Malanesian Languages" appears a note by Mr. 
Fison as to the Tongans having got the word /aw a with the bow from Fiji. No 
authority is greater with regard to Melanesiau speech than is the opinion of Mr. 
Fison, but I believe in this matter that he had been misled by his native informant. 
In the lirst place, the bow had been in use long before the lifetime of the native in 
question began, and this makes the etymology of the name beyond his knowledge 
except as a guess ; and, in the second, the wide distribution of the word among 
Polynesians makes it probable that the Tongans used the same word as the rest of 
their nation, and did not need to borrow from Fiji. 

1 1 1: 1 J rz's 1 : x vvau m !•: nts.* 

'•oil! yes; [ uiuleistaiul it all uow. Electricity is tlie a'tlier;" or, 
"Yes; it's Just like everytliiiii;- else: electricity is a vibration." These 
are the remarks one hears made by those who think that a few scat- 
tered words picked up at a. popular lecture make thiugs (piite clear. 
It is no doubt unfortunate that repeating- a form of words is a different 
nr.itter iVom understanding them, and still more different from under- 
standing the subject they are intended to explain. In this case there 
is the added misfoituue that the fmiu of words is not accurately 
repeated, and in its inaccurate form d(»es not mean what is true. It is 
often hardly vorth while remarking this to those Avho make these state- 
ments, because the words convey to them little or uo signitication, and 
are to them as true as any other unmeaning sentence. Tlie connection 
between electricity and tlie aether is certainly not, as fai* as is known, 
well described by saying that " electricity is the aether," and we can not 
say with any certainty that electricity is or is not a vibration. Hertz's 
exi)eriments have given an experimental proof of MaxweH's theory that 
electrica.l phenomena are due to tlie a-ther, ami llerzt's exi)eriments 
deal with vibiations. One can not however say, because the pressure 
of 15 pounds ]»er square inch exerted by the atmospheie is due to the 
air, that therefore "pressure is the air"; nor even, because a person 
who studied the projx'rties of the air had studied them by means of 
sounds propagated through it, can one assert that '' pressure is a vibra- 
tion." It is to be hoiked lu) one will now assert that •' electricity is 
pressure." The example is gi\en to illustrate the absurdity of the state- 
ments nnide as deductions from re(;ent experiments, and not to teach 
any new theory. And yet one comes across [)eoi)le who, after listening 
to an interesting lecture Lord IJayleigh might give, illustrated by Mr. 
Boys's sound-pressure meter, would make the above statements, and 
really think they understood them. 

The subject is very diflllcult; one that has engaged the attention of 
thoughtful and clever men for many years, and is still in many ])arts, 
even to the most acute, shrouded with dilliculties, uncertainties, and 
things unknown, so that nobody need be the least ashamed of not fol- 

* From .Va/«re, April 9, 1891; vol. xi.m, pp. 536-538; aud May 7 .ind 11, 1891; vol. 
XLiv, pp. 12-14, aud 31-35. 


204 hertz's experiments, 

lowiug even as far as others cau go into this wonderful region. If the 
present articles cau give to most who read them glimpses which un- 
fold intelligible ideas of even the outskirts of this region, it is all that 
any writer can reasonably expect who is not one of those masters of 
exposition who combine the highest scientilic and literary abilities. 

Consider for a minute tlie question at issue. That electric and mag- 
netic pheuoinena are due to the same medium by which light is propa- 
gated — that all-pervading medium by whose assistance we receive all 
the energy on this earth that makes life here possible, by which we 
learn the existence of other Avorlds and suns, and analyze their struc- 
tures and read their histories; that medium which certainly pervades 
all transparent bodies, and probably all matter, and extends as far as 
we know of anything existing: this wonderful all pervading uiedium is 
the one we use to i)ush and juill with when we act by means of electric 
and magnetic forces; and remember that we can pull molecules asunder 
by this means as well as proiiel trains and light our houses. The forces 
between atoms are controlled by this all-pervading-medium, which 
directs the compass of the mariners, signals around the globe in times 
that shame e'en Shakespeare's fancy, rends the oak, and terrifies crea- 
ation's lords in the lightning flash. It was a great discovery that proved 
all concord of sweet sounds was due to the medium that supplies the 
means of growth to animals and plants, and deals destruction in the 
whirlwind; and yet the 80 miles depth of our air is but an infinitesimal 
film compared with the all-pervading illimitable aether. 

That there is a medium by which light is transmitted in a manner 
somewhat analogous to that by which the air transmits sound has been 
long held proved. Even those who held that light was due to little 
particles shot out by luunnous bodies were yet constrained to super- 
I)Ose a medium to account for the many strange actions of these parti- 
cles. ISTow, no one thinks that light is due to such particles, and only a 
very few of those who have really considered the matter think that it can 
be due to air, or other matter such as we know. How does light exist 
for those eight minutes after it has left the sun and before it reaches 
the earth ? Between the sun and earth there is some matter, no doubt, 
but it is in far-seiiarated parts. There are Mercury and Venus, an<l 
some meteors ami some dust JU) doubt, and wandering molecules of 
various gases, many yards apart, that meet one another every few days, 
perhaps, but no matter that could pass on an action from point to point 
at a rate of thousands of miles each second. Some other medium must 
be there than ordinary gross matter. Something so subtle that the 
planets, meteors, and even comets — those wondrous fleecy fiery clouds 
rushing a hundred times more quickly than a cannon-ball around the 
sun — are imperceptibly impeded by its presence, and yet so constituted 
as to take up the vibrations of the atoms in these fiery clouds and send 
them on to us a thousand times more rapidly again than the comet 
moves, to tell us there is a comet, and teach us what kinds of atoms 

hertz's experiments. 205 

vil)rat(' ill its tail. How can a medium have those contraiy piopeitics!? 
How can it oft'er au imjierceptible resistance to the comet, and yet take 
up the vibrations of the atoms ? These are liard questions, and science 
has as yet but dim answers to them, hardly to be dignified by the name 
of answers — rather dim analogies to show that the properties su[)posed 
to CO exist, though seeming contradictory, are not so in reality. 

One of the most beautiful experiments man knows — one fraught 
with more suggestions than almost any hundred others — is that by 
which a ring of air may be thrown through the air for many yards, and 
two such rings may hit, and shivering, rebound. These rings move 
in curved jiaths past one another witli almost no resistance to their 
motion, urged by an action not transmitted in time from one ring to 
another, but, like gravitation, acting wherever a ring may be, and yet 
the air through Avhich they move can take u)> vibrations from the rings 
showing thus that there is no real contradiction between the ])roperties 
of things moving through a medium unresistedly in certain i)aths round 
one another, and yet transmitting other motions to the medium. This 
same air can push and pull, as wlien it sucks up waterspouts and deals 
destruction in tornadoes. Hence there seems no real contradiction 
between a medium that can imsh andjiull and transmit vibrations, and 
yet offer no resistance to such fragile, light, and large-extended things 
as rings of air. 

It is important to understand something about the properties that 
this medium must have in order to explain light, electricity, and mag- 
netism, because there is no use expecting a medium to possess contra- 
dictory i)roperties. It is also well to recollect that for about tw^o hun- 
dred years the existence of a medium by which light is propagated has 
been considered as certain, and that it would be very remarkable if 
this medium, which can be set in vibration by material atoms, acted 
on matter in no other way. It seems almost impossible but that a 
medium whicli is moved l)y atoms, and which sets them into motion, 
should be able to mo\e sucli armies of atoms as we deal with in material 
bodies. Even if we knew nothing of electricity and magnetism, it 
would be natural to look for some imiiortant })liciioiiieiia. due to the 
action of this medium on masses of matter. Th(> medium is n vera cttusa^ 
and if it can be sliowii that tlie same set of properties by which electric 
and magnetic forces are explained will also enable it to transmit vibra- 
tions that have all the properties of light, it will surely be beyond a 
doubt but that these electric and magnetic actions are those very ones 
Ave would naturally expect from the medium that i»roi»agates light. 

Clerk 3laxwell some years ago showed that this was so, but as far as 
any facts known at that time could prove, there were other theories of 
electric and magnetic actions which ex])lained tlieir known i)henomenn 
without the intervention of a medium. The matter stood somewhat 
thus: The older thecuMes of <'lectric and nmgnetic force explained all 
phenomena then known. These older theories assumed that electric 

206 hertz's experiments. 

and magnetic forces were propagated instantaneously througbout 
space; that if the sun became electrified it would instantaneously 
begin to induce electricity on the earth; that there would be no delay 
of eight minutes, such as occurs between a light occurring on the sun 
and its acting on the earth. Similarly in the case of magnetic actions, 
they were supposed to be propagated instantaneously throughout 
space. It was, no doubt, known that it took time for an electric signal 
to be transmitted along a conducting cable. This is however a very 
much more complicated i^roblem than the simple one of supposing a 
body surrounded by a non-conductor to be electrified. Will it or will 
it not instantaneously act on all conductors in space, and begin to in- 
duce electrification on them ? As far as was known such actions as 
this, actions tlirough non-conducting sj^ace, were instantaneous. Such 
an instantaneous action could not be transmitted by the air. Air can 
not send on from point to point any effect more rapidly than a molecule 
of air can moving carry it forward, and that is only a little faster than 
the velocity of sound; and there was every reason to know that electric 
induction through air was propagated much more rapidly than that. 
There was every reason to believe that electric and magnetic forces 
acted without any material intervention. 

In fact, in these older theories there was no thought of any medium 
to transmit the actions; it was supposed that electricity acted across 
any intervening space instantaneously. There is no real difficulty in 
such a supposition. As far as we know gravitation is just such an 
action, and as far as was then known there was no experiment that 
disproved the supposition in the case of electric and magnetic actions. 
It was known that no experiment had ever been devised that could test 
whether this action was instantaneous or whether it was propagated 
at a rate such as that of light. It was known that this action was 
enormously more rapid than sound, but as light goes about 300,000 
times as fast as sound there was plenty of spare velocity. Tiiese older 
theories explained all that was known, and they suiJj)osed nothing as 
to the existence of an intervening medium. Any theory that assumed 
that induction was not instantaneous, but that energy having been 
spent on electrification at one place work would be done at another 
after some time, as in the case of light generated on the sun not reach- 
ing the earth for eight minutes, any theory that assumed such a dis- 
appearance of energy at one place and its re-appearance at another 
after the lapse of some time must assume some medium in which the 
energy exists after leaving the one place and before it reaches the 
other. A theory that only supposes instantaneous action throughout 
space need not assume the existence of a medium to transmit the action, 
but any theory that supposes an action to take time in being trans- 
mitted from one place to another nuist assume the existence of a 
medium. Now, Maxwell's theory assumed the existence of a medium, 
and along with that led to the conclusion that electric and magnetic 

hertz's experiments. 207 

actions were not propa.uatod instiuitiineously, bnt were propagated 
witli the velocity ol" light. Accordiuu' to his theory an electric distnrb- 
ance occurring on the sun wonhl not ])i'odnce any <'i'fect on the earth 
tor about eiglit minutes after its occurrence on the sun. No exi)eri- 
nients were known to test the trutli of this deduction until the genius 
of Jlertz brought some of the most beautifully conceived, ingeniously 
devised, and hiborinusly executed of ex])eri7nents to ;>. brilliantly suc- 
cessful conclusion, and demoiistrutcd the juopagation of electric and 
magnetic actions with, the velocity of light, and thereby i)rove<l experi- 
mentally that they are due to that sanu' wonderful, all-pervading 
medium by means of which wc get all the energy that makes life here 

The i)roblem to be solved was, arc e]ectri<' and nmgnetic actions propa- 
gated from place to place in a Unite time, or are they simultaneous 
everywhere? How can exiieriments be made to decide this? Consider 
the corresponding problem in sound. What methods are there for de- 
termining the rate at which sound is i)ropagated? An experiment that 
measures the rate can tell whether that rate is tiuite or whether it is 
infinitelj^ great. There are two important methods employed for meas- 
uring the velocity of sound. The second is really only a moditication 
of the first direct method, as will be seen. The direct method is to nmke 
a sudden sound at a ])lac{i and to find how long afterward it reaches 
a distant jdacc. In this juethod there is required some practically in- 
stantaneous way of comnmnicating between the two i)laces, so that the 
distant observer may know when the sound started on its journey. A 
modification of the method does not require this. It depends on tiie 
use of refiection. If a sound be made at a distance from a refie(;ting 
surface, the interval of tinu' between when the sudden sound is made and 
when the retlectcd sound (the echo) retui'iis, is the time the sound took 
to travel to the retlcctor ami back again. A well-known modification 
of this method can be apjdied if we can secure a succession of smldcn 
sounds, such as taps, at accurately equal intervals of time, We oiigi- 
nate such a regular succession of taps, and alter the distance from llie 
rertector until each refiected tai)Occuis sinuiltaneously with the succeed- 
ing incident ta]>. Or if the distance at which we can i)ut the refiector 
be sufficiently great, wc may arrange it to l)e such tint a icfiected tap 
is heard sinuUtancously Avith the second, third, fouilh, or any desired 
succeeding ta]). The coincidence of the taps with their refiections can 
be fairly accurately observed, ami a fairly accurate estimate foi med of 
the velocity of sound, /, c, the velocity at which a con>pressingor rare- 
fying of the air is i)roi)agated by the air. Instead of altering the dis- 
tance of the source of sound from the reflector, we may ourselves move 
about between the souiceand the refiector, and we can find some places 
where the reflected taps occur simultaneously with the incident taps, 
and some ])laces where they occur between the incident on(\s. This is 
pretty evident, for if we start from the source toward the reflector, as 

208 hertz's experiments. 

we approach it we get the reflected taps earlier and the incident ones 
later than when we were at the source. How far must we go toward 
the reflector in order that the original and reflected taps may again ap- 
pear simultaneous*? We must go half the distance that a tap is propa- 
gated during the intervnl between two taps — half the distance, because 
in going away from the source we are approaching the reflector and so 
make a double change — we not only get the original ones later, but we 
also get the reflected ones earlier, and so coincidence will have again 
been reached when we have gone half the distance between any pair 
of compressions travelling in the air. Now, if the taps succeed one 
another slowly, the distance in the air between any two of them trav- 
elling through it will be considerable; any one of them will go a con- 
siderable distance from the source before its successor is started after 
it. If, on the contrary, they succeed one another rapidly, the distance 
between the travelling taps will be small. 

In general, if v be the velocity with which a tap travels, and t be 
the interval of time between successive taps, the distance apart of the 
taps travelling in the air will be X = vt. By arranging, then, that the 
taps shall succeed one another very rapidly, /. e., by making t small, 
we can arrange that A may be small, and that consequently the ois 
tauce between our source of sound and the reflecting wall may be 
small too, and yet large enough to contain several places at distances 
of ^X apart between the source and the reflector where the incident 
and reflected taps occur simultaneously. Now, a very rapid succes- 
sion of taps is to us a continuous sound, and where the incident and 
reflected taps coincide we hear simply an increased sound, while at 
the intermediate jflaces where the incident taps occur in tlie inter- 
vals between the reflected tai)s we do not hear this eftect at all. In 
the case of a succession of sharp taps we would hear in this latter 
place the octave of the original note, but if the original series be, 
instead of taps, a simple vibration of the air into and out from the 
reflector, the in and out motions of the incident waves will in some 
l)laces coincide with the in and out motions of the reflected wave, and 
then thei'e will be an increased motion, while at intermediate places 
the in and out motions of the incident wave will coincide with rhe 
out and in motions of the reflected wave, and no motion, or silence, 
Avill result, so that at some places the sound will be great and at inter- 
mediate ])laces small. 

This whole eflect of having an incident and reflected wave travel- 
ling simultaneously along a medium can be simply and beautifully 
illustrated to the eye by sending a succession of waves along a chain 
or heavy limp rope or an India-rubber tube fixed at the far end so as 
to reflect the waves back again. It will then be found that the 
chain divides up into a series of places Avhere the motion is very 
great, called loops, se})arated by points Avhere the motion is very 
small, called nodes. The former are the places where the incident and 


hertz's experlments. 209 

roHected motions rciiitbrcc, wliilr the lattc'i" are where tlu^sc iiiotioiis 
arc o]>i)()S('(l. if we iiioasure the distaiicc between two nodes, we know 
tliat it is hair the distance a wave tra\-els durini;- a single ^•il)ration of 
the string, and so can calcnlate the velocity of the wave if we know 
the rate of vibration of the string. This is the se(;ond method men- 
tioned above for finding the ^■elocity of sound. There are so many 
things illustrat<'d by this \ibrating chain that it may be well to dwell 
on it for a few moments. We can make a wave travel up it, either 
rapidly or slowly, by stressing it much or little. If a wa\e travels 
rapidly, we must gi\'e it a \eiy rajtid vibration if we Avish to have 
many loo[)s and nodes between our source and the reflector; for the 
distaiu'c fronrnode to node is half the distancje a wave travels during 
a vibration, and if the wave goes fast the vibration must be rapid, or 
the distance from node to node will be too great for there to be many 
of them within the length of the chain. 

Another i>oint to be observed is the way in which the chain moves 
when transmitting a single wave and wlien in this condition of loops 
and no<les, /. c\, transmitting two sets (»f waves in opposite directions. 
There are two ditterent motions of the parts of the chain it is worth 
considering separately. There is in the f.rst place the displacement 
of any ]\\\k up or down, and in tlie second i)lace there is the rotation 
of a link on an axis which is at right angles to this up and down 
nn)tion. Xo\a , when waves are going nj) the cliain those links are 
rotating most rapidly which are at any tinn^ most dis])laced; it is the 
links on the tops and bottoms of waves that are rotating most rapidly. 
On the other hand, in the case of looi)s and nodes the links in the 
mi(hlh» of hjops never rotate at all; they are much displaced uj) and 
down, but they kec)) ])aralh'l to their original direction all the time, 
while it is the links at the nodes where there is no displacement up 
and down that rotate first in one direction and tlien l)ack again; 
there is. in tiie loops and nodes c(»ndition, a separation of the most 
rotating and the most dis])laced links which does not occur in the 
simi)le wa\c. 'iliere is a corres])onding relation between the most 
rotat<Ml and tiie most rapidly moving links. Tiiese are tlie same 
links haltway up tlie simple waves, but in the loo])s and nodes the 
most rai»idly moving links never rotati^ at all, while those at the 
nodes that get most lotated are not displaced at all. These remarks 
will be seen hereaft<'r to throw light on some of the phenomena ob- 
served in connection with Hertz's experiments; hence their importance. 

It Mill be observed that the method of measuring the velocity at 
which a disturbance is ])i()pagated along a string, and which depends 
on measni'ing the distance between two nodes, is really only a moditica- 
tion of tin- direct m<'thod of linding out how long a disti'.i'bance takes 
to go from one )>lace to another: it is on<' in which we make the waves 
register ujion Themselves how long they took, and so does not iciiuire 
us to have at our dis|)osal any method of sending a message from one 
II. Mi.s. 114 II 

210 hertz's experiments. 

place to another more quickly than the waves travel, and that is very 
important when we want to measure the rate at which disturbances 
travel that go as fast as light. If tlie wave travels very fast, we must 
have a very rapid vibration, unless we have a great deal of space at 
our disposal; for the distance between two nodes is half the distance 
the wave travels during one vibration, and so will be very long if the 
wave travels fast, unless the time of a vibration be very short. 
Hence, if we wish to make experiments in this way, in a moderate 
sized room, on a wave that travels very fast, we must have a very 
rapid vibration to start the waves. 


In the preceding article a general method of measuring the velocity at 
which a disturbance is propagated was described. It depended on be- 
ing able to ])roduce a regular succession of disturbances at equalinter- 
vals of time. These were made to measure their om'u velocity by 
reflecting them at an obstacle. Then, by the interference of the inci- 
dent and reflected waves, a succession of looi>s and nodes are produced 
at intervals of half the distance a disturbance is i)ropagated during 
the time between two disturbaiu^es. It is a general method applicable 
to any sort of disturbance that takes time to get from one place to 
another. It has been applied over and over again to measure the rate 
at which various kinds of disturbance are X)ropagated in solids, liquids, 
and gases; it was applied in a inodified form years ago, to measure the 
length of a wave of light; and, within the last year, some of the most 
beautiful experiments on iihotography ever described are applications 
of this principle by Ilerr Wiener and M. Lippman. 

There are three things essential to this experiment: (1) Some method 
of originating waves; (2) some method of reflecting them; (3) some 
method of telling where there are loops and where there are nodes. 
We will take them in this order: 

(1) How can we expect to originate electri(; weaves? If, when a body 
is electrified positively, the electric force due to it exists sinuiltane- 
ously everywhere, of course we can not expect to produce anything like 
a wave of electric force travelling out from the body; but if, when a 
body is suddenly electrified, the electric force takes time to reach a 
place, we must su])pose that it is propagated in some way as a wave of 
electric force from the body to the distant place. This of course 
assumes that there is a medium which is in some peculiar state when 
electric force exists in it, and that it is this peculiar state of the medium 
which we call electric force, existing in it, that is propagated from one 
place to another. It must be carefully borne in mind what sort of a 
thing this is tliat we call the electric force at any place. It is not a 
good name, — electric intensity would be a better one; but electric force 
has come so i.iuch into use it is hardly to be expected tliat it can be 
eradicated now. Electric force at any place is measured by the 

hertz's experiments. 211 

iiK'clianicnl lone that would be exerted at the place if a unit ({uautity 
of electricity were there. It is not a force itself at all; it is only a 
descrii)tion of the condition of the medium at the ])lace which makes 
electricity there tend to move. The air near the earth is in such a con- 
dition that everything immersed in it tends to move away from the 
earth with a finxe of about 1.2C dynes for each cul)ic centimeter ol the 
body, i. c. each cubic centimeter tends to moxc with a force of 1.26 
dynes. Kow, the condition of the air that causes tliis is never described 
as volume (brce existinj>' at the ])lace, tlioui^h we do describe the corre- 
sponding" condition of the a'ther as electric force existing' there; and as 
volume force existing would be a very objectionable jjescription of the 
condition of the air, when being at different pressures at various levels, 
it tends to make bodies move with a force i)ro])orti()nal to their vol- 
ume, so electric force existing is a very objectionable description of the 
condition of the fether, whatever it is, that tends to make bodies move 
with a force in proportion to their electric charges. We know more 
about the structure of the air than we do about the ;ether. We know 
that the structure of the air that causes it to act in this way is that 
there are more molecules jumping about in each cubic centimeter near 
the earth than there are at a distance, and we do not know yet what 
the structure of the a4her is that causes it to act in this remarkable 
way; but even though we do not know the nature of the structure, we 
know some of its effects, by means of wiiich we can measure it, and we 
can give it a name. Although we know very little indeed about the 
structure of a piece of stressed india rubber, yet we can m<^asure the 
amount of its stress at any pLice, and can call the india rubber in this 
peculiar condition "^stressed india rubber." As a matter of fact, we 
know a great deal more about the peculiar condition of the a4her that 
we describe as "electric force" existing, than we do about the 
"stressed india rubber;"' and there is every reason to suppose that the 
structure of the a'ther is, out of all comparison, more simple than that 
of india rubber. 

When sound-waves travel through the air, they consist of compres- 
sions followed by rarefactions, and between them the i>rcssure varies 
from i)oint to point, so that here we have travelling Ibrward a stnu'ture 
the sanu; as that of the air near the earth, and waves of sound might 
be described as consisting ol' a succession of positive and negative 
"volume Ibrces" travelling forward in tlu^ air; tliis ibrm of expression 
would no doubt be objectionable, but still if all we knew a1)out the 
properties of the air near the earth was that it tended to make bodies 
move away from the earth with a force proportional to their volume, it 
is quite likely that this condition of affairs near the earth might have 
been described as the existence of a "volume forc<'" near the eaith, 
and when it was discovered that this action was due 1o a medium, the 
ail-, it would have been <pute natural to describe this state of the air as 
"volume force" existing in it: an(l then wlien waves of sound were ob 

212 hertz's experiments. 

served it would be quite natural tluit they should be described as 
waves of "volume force," especially if the ouly way in which we could 
detect the presence of these waves was by observing the force exerted 
on bodies immersed in it, which was proportional to their volumes, and 
which we happeii to know is really due to differences of pressure at 
neighboring' points in the air. We do not know what is the structure 
of the aether that causes it to exert force on electrified bodies, but we 
know of the existence of this property, and when it is in this state we 
say that "electric force" exists in it, and we have certain ways by 
which we can detect the existence of " electric force," one of which is 
the production of an electric current in a conductor, and the consequent 
electrification of the conductor, and if this is strong enough we can 
produce an electric spark bet^veen it and a neighboring conductor. 
When a conductor is suddenly electrified, the structure of the aether 
which is described as electric force existing in it travels from its neigh- 
borhood through the surrounding icther, and this is described as a 
wave of electric force travelling through the surrounding aether. It is 
desirable to be quite clear as to what is meant by the term a wave of 
electric force and what we know about it. We know that it is a region 
of wther where its structure is the same as in the neighborhood of elec 
trifled and some other bodies, and owing to which force is exerted on 
electrified bodies, and electric currents are pi-oduccd in conductors. 

We may then I'easonably expect that, if it is possible to electrify a 
body alternately positively and negatively in rapid succession, there 
will be produced all round it waves of electric force — that is, if the 
electric force is i)ropagiited by, and is due to, a medium surrounding 
the electrified body, if electrification is a special state of the medium 
that fills the space between bodies. 

(2) The next question is: How can we reflect these waves? In order 
to reflect a wave, we must int<'rpose in its way some body that stops it. 
What sort of bodies stop electric force? Comluctors are known to act 
as complete screens of electric force, so that a large conducting sheet 
would naturally be suggested as the best way to reflect waves of elec- 
tric force, lieflection always occurs when there is a change in the 
nature of the medium, even though the change is not so great as to 
stop the wave, and it has long been known that, besides the action of 
conductors as scieeus of electric force, different non-conductors act 
differently in reference to electric force by differing in si)ecific inductive 
capacity. Hence we might expect non-conductors to reflect these 
waves, although the reflection would probably not be so intense from 
them as from conductors. Hence this question of how to reflect the 
waves is pretty easily solved. All this is on the supposition that there 
really are waves. If electric force exist everywhere simultaneously, 
of course there will be no waves to reflect, and consequently no loops 
and nodes produced by the interference of the incident and reflected 


(.'>) Tlu' third i)r(»i)l<Mii is: How can we expect to detect wliere there 
are loops and wiiere tiieic are nodes .' Recall the eflects of electric force. 
It tends to move electrilied bodies. If then an electrified body were 
placed in a loop it would tend to vibrate ui> and down. This method 
may i)ossibly be employed at some future tinu\ and it may be part of 
the cause of photographic actions, for these have recently been conclu- 
sively proved to l)e due to electric tbrce; but the alternations of electric 
force from positive to nepitive that have to be emi)loyed are so rapid 
that no body large enougli to be easily visible and electrified to a^ reason- 
able extent could be expected to move sutticiently to be visibly dis- 
turbed. It is possible that we luay tind some way of detecting the 
vibrations hereby given to the electritied ions in an electrolyte; and 
it has recently been stated that waves originated electrically shake the 
elements in sensitive photographic films sufficiently to cause changes 
that can be develo])ed. The other action of electric force is to produce 
an electric current in a conductor and a resultant electrification of the 
conductor. Two effects due to this action have actually been used to 
detect the existence of the wave of electric force sent out by a body 
alternately electrified positively and negatively. One of these is the 
heating of the conductor by the current. Several experimenters have 
directly or indirectly used this way of detecting the electric force. The 
other way, which has proved so far the most sensitive of all, has been 
to use the electrification of the conductor to cause a spark across an 
air s]>ace. Tliis is the method Hertz originally emph)yed. A pnori^ 
one would not have expected it to he a delicate method at all. It takes 
very considerable electric forces to produce visible sparks. On the 
other hand, the tinu' the force need last in order to ])roduce a spark is 
something very small indeed, and hitherto it has not been possible to 
keep up the alt<'ruate electrifications for more than a minute fraction of 
a second, and this is the reason why other api)arently more promising 
metiiods have failed to be as sensitive as the nu4hod of [»roducing 
s])arks. If two conductors be placed very close to one another in 
such a direction that the electric force is in the line joining them, their 
near surfaces will be op])ositely electrified when the electric force 
acts on them, and we may expect that, if the force be great enough 
and the surfaces near enough, an electric spark will i)ass I'rom one to 
the other. This is roughly the arrangement used by Hertz to detect 
whether there are loops and nodes between the originator of the waves 
and the reflector. 

Now aiises the problem of how to electrify tlie body alternately i)osi- 
tivcly and negatively with sufficient rapidity. How rapid is '• with suffi- 
cient rai)idity'if" To answer tiiis we nuist form someestimate of how raj)- 
idly we may expect the waves to be propagated. According to Maxwi'Ifs 
theory they should go at the same rate as light, some 3tH),()(H), (»()(» of 
meters per second, and it is evident that if we are going to test Maxwell's 
theory w«^ must mak<* provision f()r sufficiently rai)id electric \iliratious 

214 hertz's experiments. 

to give some lesult if the waves are propagated at tliis enormous rate. 
The distance from a node to a node is half the distance a wave travels dur- 
ing a vibration. If we can produce vibrations at the rate of 300,000,0(10 
per second, a wave would go 1 metre during a vibration, so that, with 
this enormous rate of alteinatiou, the distance from node to node would 
be 50*^^'"* We might expect to be able to work on this scale very 
well, or even on ten times this scale, /. e., with alternations at the rate 
of 30,000,000 per second, and 5 metres from node to node, but hardly 
on a much larger scale than this. It almost takes one's breath away 
to contemplate the i)roduction of vibrations of this enormous rapidity. 
Of course they aie very much slower than those of light; tbese latter 
are more than a million times as rapid; but 300,000,000 per second is 
enormously more rapid than any audible sound, about a thousand 
times as fast as the highest audible note. A short bar of metal vibrates 
longitudinally very fast, but it would have to be about the thousandth 
of a centimeter long in order to vibrate at the required rate. It would 
be almost hopeless by mechanical means to produce electric alterna- 
tions of this frequency. Fortunately there is an electric method of pro- 
ducing very rapid alternate electritications. When a Leyden jar is 
discharged through a wire of small resistance, the self-induction of the 
current in this ware keeps the current running after the jar is dis- 
charged, and re-charges it in the opposite direction, to immediately 
dischargee back again, and so on through a series of alternations. This 
action is quite intelligible on the hypothesis that electrifications con- 
sists in a strained condition of the aether, which relieves itself by means 
of the coiiductor. Just as a bent spring or other strained body, when 
allowed suddenly to relieve itself, relieves itself in a series of vibra- 
tions that gradually subside, similarly the strain of the ;ether relieves 
itself in a series of gradually subsiding vibrations. If the spring 
while relieving itself has to overcome fricticnuil resistance, its vibra- 
tions will rapidly subside; and if the friction be sufticiently great, it 
will not vibrate at all, but will gradually subside into its position of 
equilibrium. In the same manner, if the resistance to the relief of the 
strain of the medium, which is offered by the conducting- wire, be 
great, the vibrations will subside rapidly, and if the resistance of the 
wire be too great, there will not be any vibrations at all. 

Of course, quite independently of all frictional and viscous resistances, 
ai vibrating spring, such as a tuning-fork that is producing sound-waves 
in the air, which carry the energy of the fork away from it into the sur- 
rounding medium, will gradually vibrate less aud less. In the same way, 
quite independently o. the resistance of the conducting wire, we must 
expect that, if a discharging conductor produces electric Maves, its 
vibrations iiuist gradually subside owing to its energy being gradually 
transferred to the surrounding' medium. As a consequence of this the 
time that a Leyden jar takes to discharge itself in this way may be very 
short indeed. It may i)erforni a good many oscillations in this very 


slioit time, but then each oscilhitioii takes an exeeedingiy short time. To 
.net some idea of what (luaiitities we are dealing- \vith,eousider the rates 
ol' oscilhition which wonhl give wave-lengths that were short enough to 
be conveniently dealt with in laboratories. Three liundred million per 
second would give us waves 1 meter long; consider what is mcaut by 
1(K),0U0,U(H) i)er second. Wemayget some conception of it by calculating 
the time corresponding to one hundred million seconds. It is more than 
three years and two montlis. The pendulum of a clock would have to 
oscillate three j^ears and two months before it would have performed 
as many oscillations as we require to be performed in one second. The 
])endulum of a clock left to itself without weights or springs to drive it, 
and only given a single impulse, would practically cease to vibrate after 
it had i^erformed 40 or 50 vibrations, unless it were veiy heav}-, /. c., had 
a great store of energy or were very delicately suspended, and exposed 
only a small resistance to the air. A light pendulum would be stopped 
by communicating" motion to the air after a very few vibrations. The case 
of a Leyden Jar discharge is more like the case of a nmss on a spring 
than the case of a pendulum, because in tlie cases of the Leyden Jar 
there is nothing quite analogous to the way in which the earth pulls 
the i>e.ndulum : it is the elasticity of the aether that causes the»electric 
currents in the Leyden jar discharge, Just as it is the elasticity of the 
spring that causes the motion of tlie matter attached to it in the cas(^ 
of a mass vibrating on a spring. 

It is possible to push this analogy still furthei. Under wiuit condi- 
tions would the spring vibiate most raj>idly !? When the s])rihg was 
stiff and the mass small. What is meant by a spring" being stiff? When 
a considerable force only bends it a little. This corres])onds to a con- 
siderable electric force only electrifying the Leyden Jar coatings a little, 
i. c. to the Leyden jar having" a small capacity. We would conse(}uently 
expect that the discharge of a Leyden Jar with a small capacity would 
vibrate more rapidly than that of one witli a large c;ii)a<'ity, and this is 
the case. In order to make a Leyden Jar of very small capacity we nmst 
have small conducting surfiices as far i-.part as possible, and two sepa- 
rate [)lates or knobs do very well. The second condition for rapid vibra- 
tion was that the mass moved siiould l)e small. In the case of electric 
currents what keeps the current running after the plates have become 
discharged and re-charges them again, is tlie so-called self-induction of 
the current. It would be well to look upon it as magnetic energy stored 
up in the oether around the current, but whatever view is taken of it, it 
evidently corresponds to the mass moved, whose energy keeps its mov- 
ing after the spring is unbent, and re-bends the spring again. Hen(!c we 
may conclude that a small self-iiuluction will favor rapidity of oscillation, 
and this is the case. To attain this we must make the distance the cur- 
rent has to run from plate to plate as short as i^ossible. The smaller the 
plates and the shorter t\ui connecting wiie the nun^e rapid tlie vil)ra- 
tions; in fact, the rapidity of vibration is dire(;tly proportional to the 

21G hertz's experiments. 

linear dimensions of the system, and for tlie most rapid vibrations two 
spherical knobs, one charged positively and the other negatively, and 
discharging directly from one to the other, have been used. 

Hertz in his original investigations used two plates about ^C'" square, 
forming parts of the same plane, and separated l)y an interval of about 
()()""• Each plate was connected at the center of the edge next the other 
l)late with a wire about 3(^"' long, and terminating in a small brass 
knob. These knobs were within 1! or 3""" of one another, so that 
when one plate was charged positively and the other negatively they 
discharged to one another in a spark across this gap. An apparatus 
about this size would produce waves 10 or 12 meters long, and its rate 
of oscillation would be about 30,000,000 per second. As the vii)ration 
actually produced by these oscillators seems to be very complex, the 
rate of oscillation can only be described as '^ about " so and so. In a 
subsequent investigation Hertz employed two elongated cylinders 
about 15*='" long and about 3"" in diameter, terminated by knobs 
about 4*^'" in diameter, and discharging directly into one another. 
Such an oscillator produces waves from 00 to 70"" long, and conse- 
quently vibrations at the rate of between 1(K),000,000 and .500,000,000 
per second. Most other experimenters have used oscillators about the 
same dimensions as Hertz's larger a})paratus, as the effects produced 
are more energetic; but many experiments, es])ecially on refraction, 
require a smaller wave to be dealt with, unless all the apparatus used 
be on an enormous scale, such as could not be accommodated in any 
ordinary laboratory. When we art^ thus aiming at rapid rates of vibra- 
tion, it must be recollected that we can not at the same time expect 
many vibrations after each impulse. If we havc^ a stiff spring- with 
a small weight arranged so as to give a lot of its energy to the 
surrounding medium, we can not expect to have very much energy to 
deal with, nor many vibrations, and, as a matter of fact, we find that 
this is the case. The total duration of a spark of even a large Leyden 
jar is very small. Lord Rayleigh has recently illustrated this very 
beautifully by his photographs of falling*drops ami breaking bubbles. 

We can not reasonably expect each spark to have more than from ten 
to twenty effective oscillations, so that, even in the case of the slower 
oscillator, the total duration of the spark is not above a millionth of a 
second. It is very remarkable that the incandescent air (heated to in- 
candescence by the sparlc) should cool as rapidly as it does, but there 
is conclusive evidence that it remains incandescent after the spark 
proper has ceased, and consequently lasts incandescent longer than the 
millionth of a second. \V^hat is seen as the white core of the spark 
may not last longer than the electric discharge itself, and certainly 
does not do so in the case of the comparatively very slowly oscillating- 
sparks thj)t have been analyzed into their component vibrations by 
l)hotograi>hing them on amoving plate. The incandescent air remain- 
ing in the path of such discharge is probably the conducting iiath 

hertz's experiments. 217 

tliroug'h wliicli the osciilatiiig- ciiriciit rushes backward and forward. 
Once the air gap lias been broken tlirough, tlie character of the air gap 
as au opponent of the passage ol" electricity is coniph^tely changed. 
Before the air gap breaks down it requires a considerable initial dif- 
ference of electric pressure to start a current. Once it has been broken 
down, the electric current oscillates backward and forward across 
the incandescent air gap until the whole difterence of electric pressure 
has subsided, showing that the broken air-gap has become a conductoi' 
in which e\ en the feeblest electric pressure is able to produce an elec- 
tric current. If this were not so, Leyden jars would not be discharged 
by a single s]»ark. 

All this is (pute in accordance with what we know of air that is — or 
even has lately been — incandescent; such air conducts under the feeb- 
lest electric force. All this is most essential to the success of our oscil- 
lator. ( )nly for this valnable pro[)erty of air, that it gives way suddenly, 
and thence forward offers but a feeble opposition to the rapidly alternat- 
ing discharge, it would have been almost impossible to start these rapid 
oscillations. If we wish to start a tuning fork vibrating we must give 
it a sharp blow; it will not do to press its prongs together and then let 
them go slowly; we must apply a force which is short-lived in compari- 
son with the i)eriod of vibration of the fork. It is necessary then that 
the air-ga]) must l)reak down in a time short compared witli the rate of 
oscillation of tlu^ discharge; and when this is rcipiired to be at the rate 
of 400,000,000 per second, it is evident liow very remarkably suddenly 
the air-gap breaks down. From the exi)eriments themselves it seems as 
if any even minute roughness, dust, etc., on the discharging surface 
interfered with this rapidity of break-down; it seems as if the points 
spluttered out electricity and gradually broke down the air-gap, for 
the vibrations originated are very feeble unless the discharging- surfaces 
are kept highly jjolished; gilt brass knobs act admirably if kept pol- 
ished np every ten minutes or so. One of the greatest desiderata in 
these experiments is some method of making sui'e that all the sparks 
should iiave the same character and be all good ones. 


In the foregoing, the ])rinciples ui)()ii which a rapidly vibrating elec- 
tric oscillator should be constructed have l)een considered, and how the 
sudden break-down of the air-gai) enabled these rapid vibrations to be 
started. It is probable that this break-down occurs in a time smaller 
than the thousand-millionth of a second. How very rajtid the inter- 
atonn'c motions nnist be! 

Consider now the princii)les on which an apparatus is to be con- 
structed to receive the vibrations pi-oduced by this oscillator. We may 
observe in the tirst place that as we are dealing with a succession of 
impulses at equal intervals of tinn^ w(^ (;an utilize resonance to accuuui- 
late the effect of a single impulse. Kesouance is used in an immense 

218 hertz's experiments. 

variety of circumstances to aecuiiiulate the effect of a series of im- 
pulses, aud is avoided in auotlier immense variety of circumstances 
to prevent accumulating the effect of a series of impulses. We see, 
we liear, we pliotogTaph by using it; we use it to make musical sounds, 
to keep clocks and watches going, to work telegraplis. By avoiding 
it carriages drive safely over rough roads, shi^is navigate the seas, 
the tides do not now overwhelm the hiiid, the earth and planets 
preserve their courses round the sun, aud the solar system is saved 
from destruction. Resonance maybe thus described: If a system is 
able to vibrate by itself in any way, and if we give it a series of im- 
pulses, each tending to increase the vibration, the effect will be cumu- 
lative, and the vibration will increase. To do this the im^iulses must 
be well timed, at intervals the same as the i^eriod of vibration of the 
system itself. Otherwise some of the impulses will tend to stop the 
the vibration, and only some to increase it, and on the whole the effect 
will be small. 

In order to use resonance in the construction of the detector of 
waves of electric force, we must make our detector so as to be capa- 
ble of an electric vibration of the same period as the generator of the 
waves. If we do this we may expect the currents i)roduced in it to 
be increased by each wave, and thus the electrification at its ends to 
increase, and so increase tlie chance of our being able to produce a 
visible spark. Tw^o ways of using a detecti)r have been mentioned. 
One is to observe the heating of a conductor by tlie current in it, 
and the other to observe a spark due to the electrification at the 
end of the conductor. The latter is the most sensitive and has 
been most frequently employed, aud is the nietliod first employed by 
Hertz. Two forms of detector may be used for observing sparks. One 
form consists of a single conductor bent into a circle with its two ex- 
tremities very close together. An electric charge can oscillate from 
one end of this to the other round the circle and back again. If the 
circle be the proper size, about 70^'" in diameter for the large-sized 
oscilhitor and about 8"" in diameter for the smaller-sized one de- 
scribed in the last article, the period of oscilhition of this cliarge will 
be the same as that of the charge on the generator of the waves, and 
its oscillation will be increased 'by resonance until, if the ends of the 
circular wire be close enough together, the opposite electrification of 
the ends will become great enough to cause a spark across the gap. 
The other form of detector depends on using two conductors, each of 
which has the same period of electric oscillation as the oscillations we 
wish to detect. These are placed in such a position that an end of one 
is near that end of the other which will at any time be oppositely electri- 
fied. For example, if the electric force in our waves be in vertical lines, 
then if we place two elongated conductors, one vertically above the 
other and separated by a very small air space, the electric force alter- 
nating up and down will cause currents to run up and down the con- 

hertz's kxperiments. 219 

diictors simuitaueously, and tlic ii]»i)er ends (jf both will be similarly 
electrified at any instant, wliilc the lower end of the n[)])er one will 
always be oppositely electritied to the upper end of the low conductor, 
and if these two points, or two short wires connected with them, be 
close enough together, a spark Avill pass from one to the other whenever 
the electric force sets up these electric oscillations in the conductor. 
Thus this apparatus is a detector of the electric force. Whenever there 
is a spark we may be sure that there is electric force, and whenever we 
can not get a spark we may be sure that there is either no electric force 
or at any rate too little to produce sparks. The apparatus will be more 
sensitive for electric forces that oscillate at the same rate as the natural 
vibration of the electric charge on the conductor, because the effect of 
each impulse will then add to that of the last; resonance will hel]) to 
make the electrifications great, and so there will be a better chance of 
our being able to produce a spark. 

We may weaken the strength of this air-gap by reducing the pressure 
of the au' in it. To do this the ends of the conductors, or wires con- 
nected witli them, must lead into an exhausted air vessel, such as a 
Geissler's tube. There is no donbt that much longer spaiks may thus 
be produced, but they are so dim and diifused that when dealing with 
very minute quantities of electricity those K})arks in a vacuum are not 
more easily seen than the smaller and intenscr s[)arks in air at atmos 
l)heric pressure. The additional complication and difficulty of manii)u- 
lation from having the terminals in a. vacuum are not compensated for 
by any advantages. This whole dete(;ting ap])aratus works on some- 
what the same i)rinciple as a resonator of definite size connected with 
one's ear when used to detect a feeble note of the same pitch as the 
resonator. Such a resonator might very well be used to find out where 
this note existed and where it did not. It wotdd detect where there 
were compressions and rarefactions of the air i)rodncing currents of air 
into and out of your ear. In the same way the conductor sparking tells 
where there are alternating electric forces making currents alternately 
up and down tlie conductor, and ultimately ele(;tri}ying the end enough 
to make it si)ark. In the sound resonator there is nothing exactly like 
this last phenomenon. We have much more delicate ways of detecting 
the currents of air than by making them break anything. If anybody 
would allow the electric currents from a Hertzian detector to be led di- 
rectly into the retina of his eye, it would probably be a very delicate 
way of observing, though even in this direct application of the cuirent 
to an organ of sense it is possible that these very rapidly altctnating 
currents miglit fail to produce any sensible effect, for they are not 
rapid enough to pi-oduce the ])hoto-chemical effects by which we see. 

To recapitulate the arrangements proposed in order to detect whether 
electric force is propagated with a finite velocity, and if possible to 
measure it if fiuite, it is proi)osed to create electric oscillations of very 
great rapidity, oscillating some four or five bunded million times per 

220 hertz's experiments. 

second, and it is expected thereby to produce ^\ aves of electric force 
whose length will be less than a meter if they are propagated with the 
velocity of light. It is proposed to do this by causing an electric charge 
to oscillate backwards and forwards between two conductors, and 
across an air gap between them. This oscillating (iharge is to be started 
by charging the conductors, one positively and the other negatively, 
until they discharge by a spark across this air gap. By making the 
conductors small, and the distance the charge has to go from one to 
the other small, the rate of oscillation of the charge can be made as 
great as we require. If waves are produced by this arrangemenj:, we 
can reflect them at the surface of a large conducting sheet, and then 
loops and nodes will be produced where the incident and reflected waves 
co-exist. The loops will be places where the alternating electric forces 
are great, while at the nodes there will be no electric forces at all. In 
order to detect wliere there are these alternating electric forces and 
where there are none, it is proposed to use either ai single wire bent 
nearly into a circle, with a very minute air-gap between its ends, or 
elvse two conductors x)laced end to end, with a minute air gap between 
their ends. In either case, if the natural period of vibration of a 
charge on the single conductor, or on each of the conductors in the 
second arrangement, is the same as the rate of alternation of the elec- 
tric force we wish to detect, there may be sufticieiit electrification of 
the neighboring ends to cause a spark across the minute air-gap. We 
are thus in jiosscssion of a complete apparatus for determining whether 
electric waves are produced, and what their wave length is. 

The experiment is conducted as follows: 

The two conductors which are to generate the waves are placed — say, 
one above the other, so that the electric charge will run up and down 
in a vertical line across the spark gap between them. They might be 
placed horizontally or in any other line, but for definiteness of descrip- 
tion it is well to suppose some definite position. We may call them A 
and B. They are terminated in polished knobs, between which the spark 
passes. A and B are connected with the termitials of a Euhmkortf 
coil, or a Wimshurstor other apparatus by which a succession of sparks 
may be conveniently made to pass from A to B. Before the spark 
passes, A and 7> are being electrified, and when the spark occurs the 
electricity on A rushes over to B, and part of it charges B, while the 
electricity on B rushes across the spark and i)artly charges A, this 
taking place alternately up and down. Each time there is less elec- 
tricity, for some is neutralized during each oscillation by the opposite 
charge; for energy is being spent, some in overcoming the resistance of 
tlie spark gap, *'. e., in producing the heat developed there, and some in 
])roduc{ng electric waves in the surrounding medium. Thus the elec- 
tric energy of the two oppositely charged bodies ^L and B is gradually 
dissipated, and one way of describing this is to say that the two oppo- 
site electric charges combine and neutralize one another. This whole 

hertz's EXl'EHIMENTS. 221 

language of tiilkingof oloctiic cliargcs on Ixxlio.s, and clcctdc currents 
from one to the other, of ekM'trie eharges iieutraHzing one another, and 
so forth, is not in accorchmce witli the most recent developments of 
electro-magnetic theor.\. At the same time, those for whom these 
articles are written are familiar with this language and with the view 
of the subject that it is framed to suit, while they are unfamiliar with 
a'ther electrically and magnetically strained and thereby the seat of 
electric and magnetic energy, and conse<]uently it would have added 
very nuich to their difticulty in grasi)ing the details of a complicated 
(juestiou if it had been devSi^-ribed in unfamiliar terms and from an un- 
familiar point of view. 

The electric force in the neighborhood of the vertical generator will 
lie in vertical planes through it, and as A and B are alternately positive 
and negative, the electric force will alternately be from above down- 
Avards, and from below upwards. If then this foice is ])ropagated out- 
wards in a series of waves, we may expect that all round our generator 
waves of electric Ibrce will be diverging; \^aves in which the force will 
be alternately down and uj). The state of atfairs might be roughly 
illustrated l)y elastic strings stretched out in every direction from our 
generator. If their ends at the generator be moved alternately down 
and up, waves will be pro])agated along the strings, waves of alternate 
motion down and up. 

lu order to reflect these waves we require a metallic sheet of consid- 
erable area some two or three wavelengths away from the generator; 
so far away in order that we may Imve room for our detector to find 
the loops and nodes formed every half wave-length where the outgoing- 
waves meet those reflected from the screen; not too far away or (mr 
waves will be too feeble even at the loops to affect our detector. The 
waves are thrown off all round, but are most intense in the horizontal 
I)laue through the si)ark, so that our <letector had better be placed as 
near to this plane as possible. TIh' detector may be either a very 
nearly closed circle of wire or two condu<'tors, each somewhat longer 
and thinner than the combined lengths of the generating conductors, 
and placed vertically over one another, and separated by a minute air 
gap. As the theory of this latter form of detector is simi)ler than that 
of the circle, it will simplify matteis to consider it alone. The two con- 
ductors should each have a period of electrical oscillation u]) and down 
it, the same as that of the charges on the genei-ator. The generator 
consists of two conductors certainly, but then during the time the S[)ark. 
lasts they are virtually one conductor, being c(mnected by the spark 
across which the electric charges are rushing altei'nately up and <lown. 
Hence the period of oscillation of the charges on the generator corre- 
s])onds to that on a single conductor of the same size as its two ]>arts 

Various experiments have been made as to the best form for these 
conductors that form the detector They might be made identical 

222 hertz's experiments. 

■w^ith the generator, only that the sx^ark gap in the generator shonlcl 
be represented by a connecting wire. They may be longer and thin- 
ner. If longer, they should be thinner, or they will not have the 
same period of vibration. On the whole, the best results have been 
got with conductors somewhat longer and thinner than the generator. 
It is not generally convenient that the spark between the two conduc- 
tors that form the detector should take idace directly from one to the 
other. It is not easy to make arrangements by which the distance apart 
of these conductors can be regulated with sufficient accuracy. The most 
convenient way is to connect the lower end of the upper conductor and 
the upi^er end of the lower one each with a short thin wire leading, one 
to a fixed small knob and the other to a very fine screw impinging on 
the knob. The screw may then be used to adjust the spark gap be- 
tween it and the small knob Avith great accuracy. This spark gap 
must be very small indeed, if delicate work be desired. A thousandth 
of a centimeter would be a fair-sized spark gap. The minute sparks 
that are formed in these gai)S when doing delicate work are too faint 
to be seen, except in a darkened room. Having placed the detector in 
positiori between the generator and the screen, the difficult part of the 
observation begins. It is heart-rending work at first. A bright spark 
now and then arouses hope, and long periods of darkness crush it again. 
The knobs of the generator require re-polishing; the spark gap of the 
detector gets closed up: dust destroys all working, and not without 
much patience can the art be attained of making sure of getting sjtarks 
whenever the conditions are favorable, though it is easy enough not to 
get sparks when the conditions are unfavorable. 

Before making any measurements all this practice must be gone 
through. It is hard enough with the success of others before us to en- 
courage us, with their advice to lead us, with a clear knowledge of 
what is to be exi>ected to guide us. How much credit then is due to 
Hertz, v;ho groped his way to these wonderful experiments from step 
to step, without the success of others to encourage him, without the 
advice of others to lead him, without any certainty as to what was to 
be expected to guide him. Patiently, carefully, through many by- 
paths, with constant watchfulness, and checking every advance by re- 
peated and varied experiments. Hertz worked up to the grand sim- 
plicity of the fundamental experiment in electricity that is engaging 
our attention. 

Having gained conmiand over the apparatus we may look about for 
places where sparks occur easily and for others where they can not be 
produced. Two or three places may be found where no sparks can be 
observed. These places will be found to be nearly equi-distant. They 
are the nodes we are in search of. The distance between any pair is 
half the distance an electric wave is propagated during the period of 
an oscillation. Their presence proves that the electric force is not prop- 
agated instantaneously, but takes time to get from place to place. If 

hertz's experiments. 221] 

the electric force were ino])aiiate(l iiistiuitniieonsly there iiiij^ht be one 
])hice wliere tlie action of tlie currents induced in our rellcctiny- sheet 
m'utralized tlie direci action of our <ienerator. but tliere could not be a 
series of two or more such places between the iu'enerator and the re- 
flecting' sheet. That there are more than one proves that electric force 
is propagated from place to i)lace, and does not oc<'ur siinultaneonsly 
everywhei'e. It sets the crowning stone (ui ^MaxwidTs theory that elec- 
tric force is due to a m.cdiuni. Witliont a medium tliere can be no 
])ropagation from })lace to place in time. It only lemainsto contirmby 
calculation that the rate of ])ropagation is th<' same ;(S that of light. 
This is a complicated matter. It involves the (piestion of how fast 
should, on any theory, the charge oscillate n}) a.nd down a conductor. 
The problem has only been accurately solved in a few six'cial cases, 
such as that of a sphere by itself. The conductors tliat have been 
em])loyed are not this shape, are not by themselves, and- so only rough. 
api)roximations are possible as to the rate at which these oscillations 
occur. Knowing the wave lengtli will not <leterniine the velocity of 
l)roi)agation unless we know the period of vibration : and consiMjuently 
this direct measure of the velocity has only been rouglily nnide; but 
it agrees as accurately as could be cxpecti'd with Maxwell's theory 
that it must be the same as the \-clocity of light if electri(;al i)henomena 
are due to the same medium as light. Tlie conviction tliat more accu- 
rate (h'terminations will conlirm this agreement is founded niton safe 

It was i)oiiitc(l out tliat the a'ther that transmits light and is set in 
vibration by the molecules of matter j-an hardly avoid moving them 
itself. This a;tlier can hardly help lia\ing other properties than 
merely transmitting a compnrativ<'ly small range ol' vibrations. It can 
hardly hel]) inoducing other ])henomena. \\'hen it has been shown 
that, if there is a medium concerned in conv<'ying electric and mag- 
netic actions, it must possess proiierties which would enable it to 
transmit waves like light; and when it has been sliown that there is a 
medium concerned in con\eying electric and magnetic actions, and that 
the rate at which they are conveyed is approximately the same as the 
rate at which light is i»roi)agated; the conclusion is almost unavoid- 
able that we ai'c dealing with the same medium in both cases, and that 
futuri^ experiments, cai)able of accurate calculation and observation, 
will confirni the conclusion that electric* force is ])ropagated through, 
and by means of, the luminiferous a'ther with the velocity of light. 
We really know \ery little about the natuic of a wave of light, ^\'e 
know a great <leal more about electric and magnetic forces, and much 
may be tearnt as to the nature of a wave of light by studying it under 
the form of a wa\e of electric force. The waves ))roduced by the 
Hertzian generator may be a nu'ter long or more. The dithculty is to 
get them short enough. We know a good <leal about how they are 
prodiUH'd, and from this, and also by means of suitable detectors, we 

224 hertz's experiments. 

can study a great deal about their structure. They are truly very 
long waves of light. Atoms are Hertzian generators whose period 
of vibration is hundreds of millions of millions per second. A Hert- 
zian generator may vibrate rapidly, but it is miserably slow compared 
with atoms. And yet the wonder is that atoms vibrate so slowly. H* 
a Hertzian generator were, say, 1()~' *^^'" long, about the size of a good 
big atom, its period of vibration would be some hundreds of times too 
rapid to produce ordinary light. Atoms are j)robably com])licated 
Hertzian generators. By making a complicated shape, as, for exam- 
ple, a Leyden jar, a small object may have a slow period of vibraticm. 
All that is re<]uii'ed is that the capacity and self-induction may be 
large in comparison with the size of the conductor. We saw that these 
rapidly vibrating generators have but little energy in them; they rap- 
idly give out their energy to the aether near them. This is also the 
case with atoms. These, when free to radiate, give up their energy 
with wonderful rapidity. How short a time a flash of lightning lasts! 
It is hardly there but it is gone: the heated air molecules have so sud- 
denly radiated otf their energy. The reason ^xhy atoms in the air, for 
instance, do not radiate away their energy like this is because all their 
neighbors are sending them waves. Each molecule is a generator, but 
it is a detector as Avell. It is kept vibrating by its neighbors: it occu- 
pies a part of the a?ther that is in continual vibration, and so the atom 
itself vibrates. As each atom can radiate so rapidly, it must be a good 
detector; its own vibrations must be very much controlled by the 
neighborhood it finds itself in; and as the waves of light are very long- 
compared with the distances apart of molecules, those in any neigh- 
borhood are probably, independently of their motions to and fro, each 
vibrating in the same way. 

It is interesting to calculate how much of the energy in the air is in 
the form of vibrations of the {lether between the molecules of air. A 
rough calculation shows that in air at the ordinary density and tem- 
perature only a minute fraction of the total energy in a cubic centi- 
meter is in the ;ether; but when we deal with high temperatures, such 
as exist in lightning flashes, and near the sun, and with very small den- 
sities, there may be more energy in the aether than in the matter within 
each cubic centimeter. All this shows how wide-reaching are the re- 
sults of Hertz's experiments. They teach us the nature of waves of 
light. We can learn much by considering how the waves are generated. 
Let us consider what goes on near the generator, consisting of two con- 
ductors, A and B, sparking into one another. Before each spark, and 
Avhile A and B are being comparatively slowly what is called charged 
with electricity, the ;ether around and between them is being strained. 
The lines of strain are the familiar tubes of electric force. If A be 
positive, these tubes diverge from all points of A, and most from the 
knob between it and /i, and converge on 7^. Where they are narrow. 

hertz's experiments. 225 

tliea'ther is inucli stiniiu'd; w hoic wide, the a-ther is l)ut little stiaiii('<l. 
Each tube must be looked upon as a tube of unit strain. 

The nature of the strain of the a'ther is uot known; it is, most i)iob- 
ably, some increased motion in a perfect Ii<]uid. \Vc n)ust not be 
snri)rise<l at the nature «f the strain being" unknown. We do uot 
know the nature of the change in a piece of India, rubber when it 
is strained, nor indeed in any solid, and though the a^tlier is mucli 
sim])ler in structure than india rubber, it can hardly be wondered 
at that we have not yet discovered its structure, for it is only within 
the present century that the existence of the aether was demonstrated, 
while men have known solids and studied their proi)erties and struc- 
tiue for thousands of years. Any way, there is no doubt that the 
a'ther is strained in these tubes of force when ^l and /> are oppositely 
charged, and that the energy per cubic centimeter of unstrained icther 
is less than that of strained aether, and that the work done in what is 
called charging A and B is really done in straining the a'ther all rcmnd 
them. When the air-ga]) breaks down, and an eh'ctric si)ark takes 
its place, there is (piite a new series of phenomena produced. Sud- 
denly, the strained a'ther relieves itself, and in doing so, sets up new 
motions in itself. The strained state was probably a peculiar state of 
motion, and in changing back to ordinary .Bther a new and quite dis 
tinct state of motion is set uj). This new state of motion all round tlie 
(•(mdnctors is most intense near the spark, and is usually described as 
an electric current in the conductors and across the spark, or as a rush- 
ing of the electric charge from one conductor to the other. The elec- 
tric current is accompanied by magnetic force in circles round it, and 
the tubes of magnetic force detine the nature of the new movement in 
the a'ther as far as we know it. 

Hitherto, for the sake of simplicity, the existence of this magnetic 
force has been unnoticed. It is due to a i)eculiar motion in the a'ther 
all ronnd what aie called electric currents. The currtuit in fact con- 
sists of little else than a line, all round which this moxement is going 
on; like the movement surrounding an electrified body, but also un- 
like it. Whenever electric forces are changing, or electrified bodies 
moving, or electric currents running, there this other peculiai- mo- 
tion exists. We have every reason for thinking that this, whicli may 
be called the magnetic strain in the a'ther, as the nio\M'ment all lound 
electrified bodies was callcMl the electric strain — that this magnetic 
strain only exists in these three cases: (1) When the electric strain is 
changing; (li) when electrified bodies are moving, and {'.j) when electric 
currents are running. Thes(^ three may be all cases of one action; 
certainly the magnetic strain that accompanies each is the same, and 
it seems most likely that the electric change is only another as])ect 
of the magnetic- strain. There are analogies to this in the motion of 
matter that partly helj) and i)artly annoy, because tlie\ partly agree 
and i)aitly will not agree- Avith the a'thcrial phenomena. Take the case 
H. Mis. 114. -15 

described in a tonner aiticle of a chain transmitting' waves. Atten- 
tion was drawn to the displacement of a link and to its rotation. Now 
for the analogy: To seem at all satisfactory the first thing that wonld 
strike one would be to pay attention to two motions, to the velocity of 
displacement of the link and to its rotation. This wonld lead to inter- 
minable difticulties in carrying out the analogy. We can not liken 
electric strain to a velocity in this direct and simple way, because what 
are we to do with a change in the strain which produces the same ef- 
fects as a continuous current? A change in the strain is all very well, 
it would be like a change in the velocity, but what about a continuous 
change in the velocity : We can hardly sui)pose a velocity continually 
increasing forever; we are evidently landed in immediate difficulties. 
It is better therefore to be content to liken the electric strain to a dis- 
placement of the chain link. It seems most likely that it really is a 
peculiar motion in the ;ether, but we nnist be content for the present 
with the analogy. If we want to drive it further, we must suppose 
stress in the chain that draws the link back to be due to a motion in 
the chain or of things fastened to it, and then the changed motions 
produced by a displacement of the chain might be analogous to the . 
peculiar motions accompanying electric strain. It would lead us too 
far to work out this analogy. 

Returning to the simpler case of the diidsacement of the link 
representing electric strain, and the velocity of its rotation representing 
magnetic strain, see how the actions near a Hertzian generator may 
be likened to what takes place when a wave is being sent along a 
chain. While the conductors are being slowly cliarged we nnist sup- 
pose electric strain to be produced in all the surrounding space. This 
is a comparatively slow action, and as the rate of propagation is 
very rapid, the electric strain will rise practically simultaneously 
in the whole neighborhood, and that it does so is a most important 
fact to be taken account of in all our deductions from these experi- 
ments. This slow charging must be rei)resented by a slow raising 
of one end of the chain, which raises the rest of it to a great distance 
apparently sinniltaneously if the raising be done slowly. Suddenly 
the air-gap breaks. This might be represented by lifting the chain 
with a weak thread, and by having the end of the chain fastened 
to a pretty sti'ong spring. When the thread broke the sjn-ing would 
pull the chain back (piickly, would pass its position of equilibrium, and 
thus commence a series of rapid vibrations on each side of this posi- 
tion; the vibrations would gradually die away owing to the energy of 
the spring being gradually spent, i)artly on friction in itself, and partly 
in sending waves along the chain. In actually performing the experi- 
ment, an india-rubber tube or limp thin roi)e is better than a chain 
when hung horizontally, as the chain is so heavy; when it can be hung 
vertically, a chain does very well. In the description it simplifies 
matters to describe a chain, because it is easier to talk of a link than of 

hertz's experiments. 227 

a bit of the rope; a link lias an individuality that identities it, while a 
Int of tltei'o])e is so indefinite that it is not so easy to keep in mind any 
])aiti<'ular bit. 

Consider now what these waves are. what sort of motion oriiiinates 
them. When the spiinj^ first starts, the near ]»aits of the chain 
mo\es first. What happens to any link? One end of it moves down 
before the other. What sort of motion then has the link? It must 
be rotatinji'. Thus it is that chanye in the disphicement is j>enerally 
accompanied by rotation of the links. Thus it is that change in 
the electric strain is accompanied by nuignetic strain. The analogy 
goes farther than this. Ea(;h wave thrown oft' may be described as a 
wave of displaced — or as a wave of rotating — links, and the most dis- 
placed are at any time the most rapidly rotating links. Just m the 
same way, what have hitherto been called waves of electric force may 
also be looked upon as waves of magnetic force. Because there are two 
as])ects in which the motion of the chain may be viewed does not 
diminish from the essential unity of character of the wave motion in its 
waves; and similarly the fact that these Hertzian waves have an elec- 
tric and a magnetic as])ect does not diminish from the essential unity 
of character of the wave motion in them. At the same time the two 
elements, the displacement of a link and the rotation of a liidv, are 
(juite distinct things; either might exist without the other; it is only 
in wave propagation that they essentially co-exist. In the same way 
electric strain and magnetic strain are quite different things; thongh 
in wave motion, and indeed whenever energy is transmitted from one 
place to another by means of the icther, they essentially co-exist. 


Bv J. J. Thomson, F. R. S. 

The following experiments, of which a short account was read before 
tlie Cambridge Philosophical Society last February, were originally 
undertaken to investigate the phenomena attending the discharge of 
electricity through gases when the conditions are sinii)litied by confin- 
ing the discharge throughout the whole of its course to the gas, instead 
of, as in ordinary discharge-tubes, making it pass from metiillic or glass 
electrodes into the gas, and then out again from the gas into the elec- 

In order to get a closed discharge of this kind we must produce a 
finite electromotive force round a closed circuit, and since we can not 
do this by the forces arising from a distribution of electricity at rest, 
we must make use of the electromotive forces produced by induction. 
To break down the electric strength of the gas such forces must be very 
intense while they last, though they need not last for more than a short 
time. Forces satisfying these conditions occur in the neighborhood of 
a wire througli which a Leyden Jar is discharged. During the short 
time during which the oscillations of the Jar are maintained enormous 
currents ])ass through the wire, and as with a moderate-sized Jar these 
currents change their direction millions of times in a second, the elec- 
tromotive force in the neighborhood of the wire is exceedingly large. 
To make these forces available for producing an electrodeless discharge, 
all we have to do is to make the wire conn(;cting the coatings of the Jar 
the jtrimary of an induction-coil of which the discharge-tube itsdf forms 
the secondary. The arrangements which I have employed for this pur- 
])ose are represented in the accomi)anying diagram. 

In {a) A is the inside coating of a L('yd<Mi jar: this is connected to 
E, one of the poles of a Wimshnrst electrical nmcliine, or an induc- 
tion-coil, the other pole F of the machine being connected to B, the outer 
coating of the Jar. A C D is a wii-e connected to the inner coating of 
the Jar, a few turns C (which we shall call the primary coil) are made in 
this wire; these turns are scpiare if the discharge-tube is sqnare, ciicu- 
lar if the discharge-tube is a spherical bull). The wire at I) is attached 
to an air-break, the other side of which is connected with the outer 

From tho L. E. D., Phil. Mag., October and November, 1891; vol. xxxii, pp. 321- 
330, and 115-464. 




coating of the Leyden jar. The knobs of this air-break ought to be 
kept brightly polished. The loop C is connected to eartli. The dis- 
charge-tubes, which were in general either rectangular tubes or spher- 
ical bulbs, where placed close to the turns of C. When the difference of 
potential between A and B is sufficiently large, a spark i)asses across 
the air-break, and the electrical oscillations set up produce a large 
electromotive force in the neighborhood of the coil, sufficient under 
t^ivorable circumstances to cause a bright discharge to pass through the 
vacuum-tubes. In some experiments tlie jars, at the suggestion of 
Prof. Oliver Lodge, were connected up differently, and are represented 




by (/i) in Fig. 1. Two jars were used, the outside coatings of which, A 
and B, Avere connected by the wire containing the primary coil C, the 
inside coating of the hrst jar was connected to one pole of the Wims- 
hurst, that of tlie second to the other. With this method of arranging 
the jars no air-s])ace is required, as the sparks pass between the ter- 
minals of the machine, and the ]>olishing of these terminals is not nearly 
so important as tliat of the knobs of the air-break in the arrange- 
ment («). 

Before proceeding to describe the appearance prescmted by the dis- 
charge, I will mention one or two imints which may i)r(>ve useful to any 
one who wishes to rei)eat the experiments. According to my experi- 
ence the discliarge is more easily obtained in bulbs than in square tubes, 
and with a Wimshurst machine than with an inductic^n coil. If an in- 
duction-coil is used a break which will transmit a large current ought 
to be substituted for tlie ordinary vibrating one supplied with such in- 
struments. It is essential to sncci'ss that the gas in the bulbs or tubes 
shoidd be quite dry and at a suitable ])ressnre; there is a pressure at 
which the brilliancy of the discharge is a maxinuim, and as in endeav- 
oring to get at this piessure the exhaustion may be carried too far, it 
is convenient to use a form of mercury pumy which will allow of the 
easy admission of a little gas; the pattern which I have used and found 


to answer very well is called the Lane-Fox pattern. When any ^as is 
introdnced it should be sent throu.iih sulphurie acid to .^ct rid of any 
moisture that may be in it. Owing', I tliink, to the pressure in ordin- 
ary in('an<lesct'nt lamps being- very dittcrent from that at which the 
discharge has its maximum ])rdliancy, 1 have nu't w itii \('r.\ i)oor suc- 
cess in attemi)ts to i)roduce these discharges in already exhausted 
tubes such as incandescent lamps, though 1 have tried a considerable 
number by different makers; on the other hand, the radiometers w-hich 
I have tried allow the discharge to pass pretty readily, though it is in- 
terfered with by the vanes, and is not comparable in brilliancy with 
that obtained in home-nuide tubes and bulbs. I liave obtained s])arks 
easily with apparatus of the following dimensions: Iwo gallon Jars, the 
outside coatings connected by a wire about 2 yards long, the coil con- 
sisting of three or four turns, each about 3 inclies in diameter. I have 
some bulbs which with this apparatus will give a bright discharge when 
the distance between the terminals of the Wimshuist is only j inch; 
these are, however, excei)tioiuUly g(»od ; it more fre(|uently takes a spark 
an inch or an inch and a half long t(» [)roduce the discharge. 

I find that Ilittori; in Wiedenmnn's Annalen, xxi, p. 138, describes 
the light produced in a tube round which the wire connecting the coat- 
ings of a Leyden jar is twisted; the luminosity in Hittorf's experiments 
seems to have filled the tube, and not, as in the experiments described 
in this paper, been confined to a ring. It seems possible that the dif- 
ference in the apjiearance in the tubes may have been due to the exist- 
ence of an electrostatic action in Hittorf's experiments, the prinuiry 
coil getting- raised to a high potential before the discharge of the jar, 
an<l inducing a distribution of electricity over the inside of the glass 
of the tube; on. the passage of the s])ark the potential of the primary 
coil will tall, and the electricity on the glass re-distribute itself; to effect 
this re-distribution itnuiy pass through the rarified gas in the discharge 
tube and produce luminosity. 

In my experiments 1 took two precautions against this effect. In 
the fii'st jdact^ I connected the ])riijKiry coil to earth, so that its i>oten- 
tial befoie dischaige took place was unaltered, ami as an additional 
precaution I sei)arated the discharge tube from the primary by a cage 
made of blotting paper moistened with dilute acid; the wet blotting 
])a])er is a sufiiciently good c(mductor to screen off any i)urely electro- 
static eifccts, but not a good enough one to intertere to an ai)preciable 
extent with the eh'ctro-motive forces arising from ra])idly alternating 
currents. In this way we can screen off any electrostatic effects due to 
causes which operate before the electrical oscillations in the jars begin. 
When once these have commenced, there ought not, I think, to beany 
separation of the electro-motive forceps into tw^o parts, one being calh'<l 
ele<'tro static, the other (dectro-dyiumiic. As this is a])oint on which it 
is desirabh? to avoid an> misunderstandiug, I hope to be excused if I 
treat it at sonu' lengtli. 


Ill the matliematk-al treatment of the pheiioiueua of the "Electro- 
magnetic Field," it is customary and not inconvenient to regard the 
electro-motive force as derived from two sources, or rather as consisting 
of two parts, one i^art being calculated by the ordinary rules of electro- 
statics from the distribution of electricity in the field, the other part 
being the difterential coefficient of the vector potential with respect to 
the time. From a mathematical point of view, there is a good deal to 
be said for this division; the two forces have very distinct and sharply 
contrasted analytical properties. Thus the electrostatic force possesses 
the property that its line integral taken round any closed curve van- 
ishes, while the surface integral of its normal component taken over a 
closed surface does not in general vanish. The "vector potential 
force," on the other hand, does not in general vanish when integrated 
round a closed curve; the surface integral of its normal component 
taken over any closed surface however vanishes. When however 
our object is not so much mathematical calculation as the formation of 
a mental picture of the processes going on in the field, this division 
does not seem nearly so satisfactory, as the fundamental quantities 
concerned, the electrostatic and vector potentials, are both of con- 
siderable complexity from a physical i3oint of view. We might judge 
that this division of the electro-motive force into two parts, the one de- 
rivable from an electrostatic, the other from a vector, potential, is rather 
a mathematical device than a physical reality, from the fact which I 
pointed out in a report on electrical theories [B. A. Report^ 1886), that 
though the electrostatic jiotential satisfies the mathematical condition 
of being propagated with an infinite velocity, the total electro-motive 
force in the electro-magnetic field travels with the.velocity of light, and 
nothing physical is jiropagated at a greater velocity. 

In an experimental investigation such as that described in this paper, 
it is not so important that our method of regarding the phenomena 
should lead to the shortest analysis as that it should enable us to pic- 
ture to ourselves the processes at work in the field, and to decide 
without much calculation how to arrange the experiments so as to bring 
any effect which may have been observed into greater prominence. 

The method which I have adoj^ted for this purpose is the one de- 
scribed by me in the Philosophical Magazine, March, 1891, and which 
consists in referring everything to the disposition and motion of the 
tubes of electrostatic induction in the field. These tubes are either 
endless, or have their ends on places where free electricity exists, every 
unit of positive electricity (the unit being the quantity of electricity on 
the atom of a univalent element) being connected by a unit tube to a 
unit of negative electricity, the tube starting from the positive elec- 
tricity and ending on the negative. At any point in the field the elec- 
tro-motive intensity varies as the density of the tubes of electrostatic 
induction at that point. When the electricity and the tubes in the 
field are at rest, the tubes distribute themselves so that the electro-motive 


iuteusity at iiuy point is derivable from a potential function ; as soon, 
however, as the equilibrium is disturbed, the tubes move about and get 
displaced from their original positions, the disposition of tubes and 
therefore the electro-motive intensity are changed, and the latter will 
no longer be derivable from a i)otential function, and according to the 
mat] lematicaltheory would be said to include forces diie to electrostatic 
and electro-magnetic induction. According to our view, however, the 
cause of the electro-motive intensity is tlie same in both cases, viz, the 
j)resence of tubes of electrostatic induction, and the electro-motive in- 
tensity ceases to be derived from a potential, merely because the dis- 
tribution of these tubes is not necessarily the same when they are 
moving about as when they are in equilibrium. It is shown, in the 
])a])er already referred to, that these tubes when in motion produce a 
magnetic force at right angles, both to their own direction and to that 
in which they are moving, the magnitude of the force being 47r times 
the product of the strength of the tube, the velocity with A\hich it is 
moving, and the sine of the angle between the direction of the tube and 
its direction of motion. In an electric tield in which the matter is at 
rest, these tubes when in motion move at right angles to themselves 
with the velocity '' r," that at which electro-dynamic disturbances are 
propagated through the medium. We can easily show that, K being 
the specific inductive capacity of the medium, the line integral of 
47r K times the density of these tubes taken round a closed circuit is 
equal to the rate of diminution of the luimber of lines of magnetic in- 
duction passing through the circuit. Thus, since the fundamental 
laws of electro-dynamic action, viz, Faraday's law of iiuluctiou and 
Am])cre's law of magnetic force, follow from this conception of the field 
as i)roduced by tubes of electrostatic induction moving at right angles 
to themselves with the velocity " v," and producing a magnetic force at 
riglit angles both to their own direction and to that in which they are 
moving, and proportional to the product of the strength of the tube 
and its velocity, it is a coiicei>tiou which will account for all the known 
phenomena of the field. It furnishes, in tine, a geometrical instead of 
an analytical theory of the field, it will also be seen that from this 
point of view the magnetic force, when introduced to calculate the 
electio-motive forces arising from in<lu('1ion, logicall\' comes in as an 
intellectual middle-man wasting mental effort. 

We may thus regard the distinction between electrostatic and elec- 
tro-magnetic* electro-motive forces as. one introduced for convenience of 
analysis rather than as having any physical reality. The only differ- 
ence which I think could from made from a i)hysical point of view would 
be to <lefine those effects as electrostatic which are due to tubes of elec- 
trostatic induction having free ends, and to confine the term electro- 
magnetic to the effects produced by closed endless tubes. It is only 
however when the electro-motive forces are produced exclusively by the 
motion of magnets that all the tubes are closed; whenever batteries or 
comlensers are used, open tubes are ])resent in the field. 



It will be useful to consider here the dispositiou aud motion of the 
tubes of electrostatic induction in the arrangement used to produce 
these electrodeless discharges. We shall take the case where two jars 
are used, as in fS, Fig. 1, as being the more symmetrical. 

Just before the discharge of the Jar, the tubes of electrostatic induc- 
tion will be arranged somewhat as follows : There will be some tubes 
stretching from one terminal of the electric machine to the other; others 
will go frcmi the terminals to the neigliboring conductors, the table on 
which the machine is placed, the floor and walls of the room, etc. The 
great majority of the tubes will, however, be short tubes passing through 
the glass between the coatings of the jars. Let us now consider the 
behavior of two of these tubes, one from the jar A, the other from B, 
when a spark passes between the terminals of the machine. Whilst the 
spark is passing these may be regarded as connected by a conductor; 
the tubes which originally stretched between them now contract, the 
repulsion they exerted on the surrounding tubes is destroyed so that 
these now crowd into the space between the terminals, the two short 
tubes under consideration now taking somewhat the form shown in Fig. 
2. These tubes, being of opposite sign, tend to run together; they do 

so until they meet as in Fig. 3, when the tubes break up as in Fig. 4.^ the 
upper portion running into the spark gap, where it contracts, while 
the lower portion rushes through the dielectric to discharge itself into 
the wire connecting the coatings of the jars, an intermediate position 
being shown in Fig. 5. These tubes while rushing through the dielec- 
tric produce, as already stated, magnetic forces; some of them on their 
way to the discharging wire will pass through the discharge tube; if 
they congregate there in sntflcicnt density, discharge will take place 
through the rarefied gas, , 

The discharge of the jar is oscillatory, and we have only followed the 


motion of the tubes (luviiij^ u |);iii of the osciUatioii; when, however, 
this tube euterib the wire between the Jars a tube of oi)i)osite kind 
emerges from it; the same thing happens when theother portion enters 
the spark gap. These go through the same processes as the tubes we 
have foHowed, but in tlu' reverse order, until we get again two short 
tubes in the jars, but opposite in sign to the original ones; the process 
is then repeated, and so ou as long as the vibrations last. 

In order to see what are the most adsautageous dimensions to 
give to our apparatus, let us consider on what the maximum electro- 
motive force in the secondary depends. Let us take the case of a con- 
denser of capacity C discharging thiough a- circuit whose coefiticieut of 
self-induction is L; then, if the potential difference between the plates 
of the condenser is initially Vn, the current ;/ at the time / is (suppos- 
ing as a very rough approximation that there is no decay in the vibra- 
tions) given by the equation 

CVo . t 

The rate of variation of this, y, is therefore 

Vo t 

So that if iNI is the coefficient of self-induction between the primary 
and a secondary circuit, the maximum electro-motive force around the 
secondary is MV,, /L, Avhich for a given spark-length is independent of 
the capacity of the condenser. In practice it is advisable, iiowever, to 
liav^e as nuu'h energy in tlie jars to start with as possible, and better 
results are got with large jars than with small ones. Using a six-plate 
Wimshurst maciiine 1 got very good results with two " gallon jars; " 
with a large induction coil the best results Avere got with two " pint- 
and-a-halt jars,'' 

The best number ol' turns to use in the primary coil (J depends ui)on 
the size of the leads; if all the circuit were available for this coil one 
luin would give the laigest electro-motive tbrce, because, though lor a 
given rate of change of the current in the primary the <'ffect on the sec- 
ondary increases with the number of turns, the rate of change of the 
current varies inversely as the self-indu(;tion of the i>rinuiry, so that if 
all the circuit is in the coil (J, since an increase in the number of turns 
will increase the vself-induetion of the circuit faster than the mutual in- 
duction, it will diminisli the eh'ctn)-motiv<' force round the secondary, 
in practice however it is not possible to have the whole of the wire 
connecting the coatings of the jar in the coil C; and in this case an in- 
crease in the number of tuiiis may increase tlie nmtual induction more 
than the self-induction, and so be advantageous. Tlie best result will 
be obtained when the self-induction in the coil C is e((nal to that of 
the remainder of the circuit. It is very easy to find by actual trial 


whether the additiou of au extra tuiii of wire is beneficial or the re- 
verse. The brightness of the discharge depends upon the time of the 
electrical oscillations as well as upon the niagnitudt of the electro-mo- 
tive force. Thus, in an experiment to be described later, the brilliancy 
of the discharge was increased by putting self-induction in the leads, 
which, though it diminished the intensity of the electromotive force, 
increased the time constant of the system. When the discharge tube 
was square and the coil C had also to be square it was found most 
convenient to make it of glass tubing bent into the required form and 
filled with mercury. When however the discharge was required in a 
bulb, the primary coil was made of thick gutta-percha-covered copper 
wire wound round a beaker Just large enough to receive the exhausted 
bulb. There is sometimes coasiderable difficulty in getting the first 
discharge to pass through the bulb, though when it has once been 
started other discharges follow with much less difficulty. The same 
effect occurs with ordinary sparks. It seems to be due to the splitting 
up of the molecules by the first discharge; some of the atoms are left 
uncombined, and so ready to conduct the discharge, or else when they 
re-combine they form compounds of smaller electric strength than the 
original gas. AVhen the discharge was loath to start, I found the most 
effectual way of inducing it to do so was to pull the terminals of the 
Wimshurst far apart and then, after the jars had got fully charged, to 
push the terminals suddenly together. In this way a long spark is 
obtained, which, if the pressure of the gas is such that any discharge 
is possible, with the means at our disposal will generally start the dis- 

Appearance of the discharge. — Let us suppose that we have either a 
square tube placed outside a square primary or a l>ulb placed inside a 
circular coil of wire, and that we gradually exhaust the discharge tube, 
the jars sjiarking all the time. At first nothing at all is to be seen in 
the secondary, but when the exhaustion has proceeded until the pres- 
sure has fallen to a millimeter or thereabouts, a thin thread of reddish 
light is seen to go round the tube situated near to but not touching the 
side of the tube turned towards the jyrimary. As the exhaustion i)ro- 
ceeds still further, the brightness of this thread rapidly increases, as 
well as its thickness; it also changes its color, losing its red tinge and 
becoming white. On continuing the exhaustion the luminosity attains 
a maximum, and the discharge passes as an exceedingly bright and 
well-defined ring. On continuing the exhaustion, the luminosity begins 
to diminish until, when an exceedingly good vacuum is reached, no dis- 
charge at all passes. The pressure at which the luminosity is a maxi- 
mum is very much less than that at which the electric strength of the 
gas is a minimum in a tube provided with electrodes and comparable 
in size to the bulb. The i^ressure at which the discharge stops is ex- 
ceedingly low, and it requires long-continued pumping to reach this 
stage. We see from these results that the difficulty which is experi- 


enced in getting the discbage to pass tbroiigii an ordinary vacnuni-tnbe 
wbei) tbe pressure is very low is not altogetber due to tbe difficulty of 
getting" tbe electricity from tbe electrodes into tbe gas, but tbat it also 
occurs in tubes witbout electrodes, tbougii in tbis case the critical 
pressure is very nni(;b lower tban wben tbere are electrodes. In otber 
words, we see tbat as tbe state of tbe bulb sipproacbes tbat of a per- 
fect vacuum its iiisulatiug power becomes stronger and stronger. Tbis 
result is continued by several otber experiments of a different kind, 
which will be described later. 

Tbe discbarge presents a perfectly continu<ms appearance, with no 
sign of striation, of wbicb I have never observed any trace on any of 
these discharges, though I must have observed many thousands of 
them under widely different conditions. 

Action of a ma<j)iet on the discharfic — Tbe discharges wbicb take 
place in these tubes and bulbs are produced by })eriodic currents, so 
tbat the discharges themselves are periodic, and the luminosity is pro- 
duced by currents j^assiug in opposite directi<ms. As tbis is the case, 
it seemed possible that the uniformity of the luminosity seen in the 
discharge was due to tbe super-position of two stratified discharges in 
opposite directions, the places of maximum luminosity in the one 
fitting into those of minimum luminosity in the other. Since these 
discharges are in opposite directions, they will be pushed opposite 
ways wben a magnetic force acts at right angles to them, the dis- 
cbarges in opposite directions can thus be separated by the application 
of a magnetic force and examined separately. In tbe experiment wbicb 
was tried with this object, a scpiare tube was used placed outside the 
primary, the tube at one or two places being blown out into a bulb so 
as to allow of tbe wider separation of the constituent <liscbarges. 
Wben one of these bulbs was i)lace(l in a magnetic field where tbe 
force was at right angles to tbe discharge, the luminous discbarge 
tlirougb the bulb was divided into two portions wliicli were dri\en to 
oi)posite sides of the bulb; each of these portions was of uniform lumi- 
nosity and exhibited no trace of striation. It was noticed, howevei", in 
making this experiment that tbe discharge seemed to have much greater 
(lifiiculty in ])assing through tbe tube when the electromagnet was on 
tban wben it was oft. Tbis observation was followed up by several 
other experiments, and it was found thai tbe discbarge is r(>tarded in 
a nu)st remarkable way by a magnetic force acting at right angles to 
the line of discharge. Tbis effect is most strikingly shown when the 
discbarge passes as a ring through a s])herical bulb. If such a bulb 
is placed near a strong electro-magnet, it is easy to adjust tin' length of 
spark so tbat when tbe magnet is oft' a brilliant discbarge passes 
through the bulb, while when tbe magnet is on no discharge at all can 
be detected. The action is very striking, and the explanaticui of it 
wliicb seems to fit in best with tbe jdienomena 1 have observed, is that 
the discbarge through tbe rarefied gas does not rise to its full intensity 


suddenly, but as it were feels its way. The gas tirst breaks down 
along' the line where the eleetro -motive intensity is a niaximuiu, and a 
small discharge takes place along this line. This discharge produces 
a su])ply of dissociated molecules along which subsequent discharges 
can pass with greater ease. Thus under tlie action of these electric 
forces the gas is in a state of unstable equilibrium, since as soon as 
any small discharge passes through it the gas becomes electrically 
weaker and less able to resist sul)sequent discharges. When the gas 
is in a magnetic held, the magnetic force acting on the discharge pro- 
duces a mechanical force which displaces the molecules taking part in 
the discharge from the line of maximum electric intensity, and thus 
subsequent discharges do not find it any easier to pass along this line 
in consequence of the passage of the previous one. There will not 
therefore be the same instability in this case as in the one where no 
magnetic force acted upon the gas. A confirmation of this view is, I 
think, afforded by the appearance presented by the discharge when 
the intensity of the magnetic held is reduced, so that the discharge 
Just — but only jnst- — passes when the magnetic held is on. In this case 
the discharge, instead of passing as a steady fixed ring, flickers about 
the tube in a very undecided way. 

If the strength of the magnetic held is reduced still further, so that 
the discharge passes with some ease, the bright ring which, when no 
magnetic force is acting, is in one i)lane, is changed into a luminous 
baud situated between two planes which intersect along a diameter ot 
the bulb at right angles to the magnetic force. These planes are in- 
clined at a considerable angle, one being above and the other below 
the plane of the undisturbed ring. This displacement of the ring by 
the magnetic force shows tliat it consists of currents circulating tan- 
gentially round the ring. 

This action of a magnet on a discharge flowing at right angles to its 
lines of force is not, however, the only remarkable effect produced by a 
magnet on the discharge. Wlien the lines of magnetic force are along 
the line of discharge, the action of the magnet is to facilitate the dis- 
charge and not to retard it as in the former case. The first indication 
Of this was ol)served when the jars were connected, as in {a) Fig. 1. 
The earth connection being removed, in this case there is a glow from 
the glass into the bulb, due to the re-distribution of the electricity 
induced on the glass by the primary when it is at a high potential 
before the s})ark passes. If the ])rimary is connected to earth by a 
circuit with an air break in it, the intensity of the glow may be altered 
at will by adjusting the length of the air break; when the air-space is 
very small tliere is no glow; when it is long the glow is bright. The 
bulb in which the discharge Avas to take place was placed on a piece of 
ebonite over the i)ole of an electromagnet, and the air-space in the 
earth connection of the primary was adjusted so that when the magnet 
was ort' no glow was observed in the tube. When the nuiguet was on, 

however, a glow radiating' in the direction of tlie lines of magnetic, 
force was produced, which lasted as long as the magnet was on, and 
died away rapidly, but not instantaneously, when the magnet was 
taken oft". In this case the discharge seems to be nuicli easier along 
the lines of magnetic force. 

The following experiment shows that this <'ftect is not (routined to 
the glow discharge, but is also o[»crative when the discharge passes 
entirely through the gas, A scpiare tube ABCD (Fig. <») is placed out- 
side the luinuiry EFdII, the lower part of the discharge tube CD being 
situated between the ])oles L M of an electro-magnet. l>y altering the 
length of spark of the Winishurst macliine, the electro-motive intensity 

Fig. 6. 

acting on flic secondary can be so adjusted that no <}ischarge i^asses 
round the tube ABCD when the magnet is off", whilst a blight dis- 
charge occurs as long as the magnet is on. The two effects of the 
magnet on the discharge, viz, tlu^ stopi>age of the discharge across the 
lines of magnetic force, and its acceleration along them, maybe prettily 
illustrated b.\' i)lacing in this exjteriment an exhausted bulb X inside 
the i)rimary; then the spark length can be adjusted so that when the 
magnet is off the discharge passes in the bulb, and not in the scpiare 
tube, while when the magnet is on the discharge passes in the S(piare 
tube, and not in the bulb. 

The experiments on the effect of the magnetic lield on the discharge 
were tried with air, carbonic acid, and oxygen, but 1 could not detect 
any differen<;e in the behavioi of the gas«^s. 

The explanation of the longitudinal effect of magnetic force seems 
more ol)scure than that of the transverse effect: it is ])ossible how- 
ever that l)otli may be due to the sanu^. cause, for if the feeble dis- 
charge which we suppose precedes the main discharg(^ branches away 
at all from the line ol" main discharge, the action of the magnetic force 
when it is al(»ng the discliarge will tend to bring these branches into 
the main line of discharge; and tlius there will be a greater sujjply of 
dissociated molecules along tlie main line of discharge, and therefore 
an easier i)ath for the sidjsecpient disclnnges when the magnetic force 
is acting than \y\nm it is absent, 

It is perhaps not necessary to assume tiiat the mechanical acticui of 


the magnetic force is on a small discbarge preceding the main one; 
the action of the magnetic force on the chain of polarized molecules 
which are formed before the discharge passes might produce an effect 
equivalent to that which we have supposed was produced on an actual 

The chain of polarized molecules would be affected in the following 
way: The magnetic held due to the electro-Diagnet consists of tubes of 
electrostatic induction moving about these tubes, as well as the direc- 
tion in which they are moving, are at right angles to the lines of mag- 
netic force. The short tubes of electrostatic induction wliich join the 
atoms in the molecules of the gas will, under the influence of the electric 
forces, set themselves parallel to the direction of the electro-motive in- 
tensity at each point. 

Thus, when the magnetic force is at right angles to the line of dis- 
charge, tubes of electrostatic induction parallel to those in the molecules 
will be moving about in the field; and since parallel tubes exert attrac- 
tion and rei)ulsiou on each other, the molecular tubes will be knocked 
about and their efforts to form closed chains made much more difficult 
by the action of the magnet. On the other hand, when the lines of 
magnetic force are parallel to the discharge, the moving tubes are at 
right angles to those in the molecules, and widnot disturb them in the 
attempt to form chains along the line of magnetic force; they will in 
fact assist them in doing so by preventing all attempts in directions 
across the lines of force. 

Prof. G. F. Fitzgerald has suggested to me in conversation that tliis 
action of a magnet on thedischarge might be the causeof the " streamers" 
which are observed in the aurora; the rare air being electrically weaker 
along the lines of magnetic force than at right angles to them will cause 
the discharge in the direction of those lines to be the brightest. 

Discharge through different gases. — I have examined the discharge 
through air, carbonic acid, hydrogen, oxygen, coal gas, and acetylene. 
As I have already mentioned, at the highest pressures at which the 
discharge passes through air, the discharge is reddish, and gets brighter 
and whiter at lower pressures. If the discharge is examined through 
a spectroscope, the lines in the spectrum coincide with those obtained 
by sparking through air in the ordinary way with a jar in the circuit. 
The relative brightness of the lines in the spectrum of the discharge 
without electrodes varies very much with the pressure of the gas and 
the length of spark in the jar circuit. With a long spark in this cir- 
cuit, and the pressure such as to give a bright white discharge, the 
spectrum is very much like that of the ordinary jar discharge in air. 
When however the pressure is so low that the discharge passes with 
difficulty, a few lines in the spectrum shine out very brightly, whilst 
others become faint, so faint indeed sometimes that if the air spectrum 
were not thrown into the field of view of the spectroscope at the same 
time, they might pass unnoticed. Three lines which are very persist- 


cut, tho first a citron <ir(H'ii, the second a more refrangible .i^reeu, and 
the third a bhie, 1 am inclined to tliink must be due to mercury vapor 
from the pumj). 

1 am in(lel)ted to Prol'. Liveinj;- for the h>an of a very tine direct- 
vision s])ectroscope, and to him and Mr. IJobinson, of the Cambridge 
Chemical Laboratory, for valuable advice in the attempts which 1 made 
to plioto,i>rai)h the spectra of some phosphorescent glows mentioned 

1 should like to call attention to the advantages for s[tectroscopic 
purposes which attend this method of ])roducing the discharge; it is 
easily d<uie either by an ordinary electrical machine or an iuducti(m 
coil. An intensely bright discharge is got, and there is no danger of 
comi)licatiou arising from the spectrum of the gas getting mixed with 
tliat of the electrodes. 

[)isc]i(t >•{/(' ill 'hriK/cii. — l>y far the most remarkable ai>])earance is pre- 
sented when the discharge passi-s through oxygen, tor in this gas the 
Ijright dischaige is succeeded by a i)hosphorescent glow which lasts 
tor a considerable time; indeed, with a strong discharge it may remain 
visible for more than a minnte. When the discharges sncceed one 
another pretty rapidly, the phosphorescence is so strong that it hides 
the successive bright discharges, and the tube seems pernmnently full 
of a bright yellow fog. We can thus, by the use of this gas, convert 
the intermittent light gi\en by the bright discliarge into a continuous 

Perhaps the most striking way of showing this phosphorescence is to 
use a long tube, about a meter long and (3 or 7 centimeters in diameter, 
with a bulb blown in the middle, the primary coil l)eing' twisted round 
this bulb. Then, when the si)arks i)ass between the jars, a bright ring 
discharge passes through the bulb, from which, as if shot out from the 
ring, the phosphorescent glow travels in both directions along the tube, 
moving slowly enough for its motion to be followed by the eye. It can 
not, therefore, be produced by the direct action of the light from the 
spark on the gas in the tube, for if it were, the glow would tra^■el with 
the velocity of light. It is necessary to meution this point, for the 
light from these discharges has great powers of producing phosphores- 

Tlie glow seems to consist of gas which has been in the path of the 
discharge, and whose molecules liave been si)lit up by it and i)rojected 
from the line of discliarge. This gas wliich, when projected, is in a 
l)e(;uliar state, })y a pro(;ess of chemical combination gradually returns 
to its original condition, and it is while it is in this state of transition 
from its new condition, to tlu; old that it phosphoresces. If this is the 
case we should expect that the period of phosphores(;ence would be 
shortened by raising the temperature. On trying the experiment I 
found that this took place to a very marked extent. A disclnnge bulb 
tilled with oxygen at a low ])!-essure was jtlaced o\t'r a iiunscn burner; 
li. Mis. 114 i<) 


before the bulb got Lot each biiylit discbarge Avns .succeeded by ii briglit 
after- glow, but as the bulb got hotter midhotter the glow became faiuter 
and faiuter, and at last ceased to be visible, though the bright riug 
was still produced at each discharge of the jar. Wheu the Buiiseu 
was takeu away aud the bulb allowed to cool the glow re-ai)])eared. 

The spectrum of the after-glow is a continuous spectrum, in which 
I could not detect the super-position of any bright lines. The only gas 
beside oxygen in which I have been able to detect any after-glow is air, 
though in this case the range of x>ressure within which it is exhibited 
is exceedingly small; indeed it is often by no means an easy matter to 
get a bulb lilled with air into the state in which it shows the glow. 
The spectrum of the air-glow showed bright lines; I thought myself 
that I could see a very faint continuous spectrum as well. Some friends 
however who were kind enough to examine the si)ectrum, though they 
could see the bright lines clearly enough, were of opinion that there 
was nothing else visible. I endeavored to photograph it, but without 
success, so that the existen{ie of a continuous spectrum for this glow 
must be considered doubtful. 

When the discharge passes through acetylene, the first two or three 
discharges are a bright apple-green ; the subsequent ones, however, are 
white, and as the green discharge does not reappear, we must conclude 
that the acetylene is decomposed by the discharge. 

Phosphorescence produced by the discharge. — The discharge without 
electrodes produces a very vivid phosphorescence in the glass of the 
vessel in which the discharge takes place; the phosphorescence is green 
when the bulb is made of German glass, blue wheu it is nmde of lead 
glass, "N^ot only does the bulb itself i)horphoresce, but a piece of ordi- 
nary glass tubing held outside the bulb and about a foot from it ])hos- 
phoresces brightly; while uranium glass will phosphoresce at a dis- 
tance of several feet from the discharge. Similar effects, but to a 
smaller extent, are produced by the ordinary si)ark between the poles 
of an electrical machine. 

The vessel in which the discharge takes place may be regarded as 
the secondary of an induction coil, and the discharge in it shows similar 
properties to those exhibited by currents in a metallic secondary. Thus 
no discharge is produced unless there is a free way all round the tube; 
the discharge is stopped if the tube is fused up at any point. In order 
that tlie discharge may take place, it is necessary that the molecules 
of the gas shall be able to form a closed chain without the interposition 
of any non-conducting substance; indeed, the discharge seems to be 
hindered by the presence in such a chain of any second body, even 
though it may be a good conductor of electricity. Thus, when a tube 
such as that in Fig. 7 is used, which has a barometer tube attached 
to it, so that by raising or lowering the vessel into which the tube 
dips a mercury pellet may be introduced into the discharge circuit, 



the si)ark leiigtli in the piiniary circuit may be «o adjusted a dis- 
cliarge passes when there is a clear way round the tube, l»ut st()[)s 
when a pellet of mercury is forced up so as to close tlie 
yanjiway. I noticed a similar effect in my experiments 
with a lonji' va<'uum tube described in the ProceediiH/.s of 
the Ti'oi/al Socictj/ for .lanuary, 1801. 

I had another discharge tube })repared, of whicli a sec- 
tion is shown in Fig. S, a-, in which a diaphragm (AB) of 
thin cop])er plate was placed across the tube; the diaphragm 
ha]»]>ened to catch at the bottom of the tube, so that it 
divided the latter rather unequally, and left a luirrow pas- 
sage round its edge. As much of the discharge as thert; 
was room for went round the edge of the i)late; the remain- 
der was not able to get through the copper, but formed a 
closed circuit by itself in the larger segment of the tube. 
In aiu)ther tube, which is represented in section in Fig. 8, /i, ^"'- ' 
the copper diapliragm was attached to the walls of the tube by sealing- 
wax, so that there was no free way; in this case the discharge again 
refused to go through the copper, and split up into two sei)arate dis- 
charges, as in the figure. AVheu the tube was divich-d by copper 
diaphragms into six segments, as in Fig 8, ?/, no discharge at all would 
pass through. When the primary was slipped up the tube above the 
diaphiagni, a brilliant discharge was obtained. These four experi- 
ments all illustrate the difficulty which the electricity has in getting 
transferred from a gas to another conductor. 

Fl(i. H. 

There is do discharge through the secondary, if it is of such a kind 
(hat, considering a closed curve drawn in it, the electro-motive inten- 
sity as we travel along the curve tends to polarize the i)articles in one 
half of the chain in onc^ direction, and in the other half in tlie opposite 
direction, the direction being reckoned relative to the diiection we are 
traveling round the curve. Thus for examjde if we take a tube 
whose axis is bent back on itself, as in the figure, the electro-motive 
inti'nsity Avill tend to iK)larize the particles in one ])art of the chain in 
the direction of the arrow, and those in the other in tlie opposite 



direction ; it is impossible to get a discharge through a tube of this 

h'w. it. 

On the other hand, the molecules exhibit remarkable powers of mak- 
ing closed chains for themselves when not actually prevented 
by the action of the electro-motive intensity. Thus the dis- 
charge will pass through a great length of tubing in the 
secondary, even if it is bent up as in Fig. 10, where tlie ver- 
tical piece in the upper part of the secondary is at right 
angles to tlie direction of the electric force, and where the 
molecules will receive no help in forming closed chains from 
the action of the external electro-motive forces. I have c- 
ceeded in sending discharges through tubes of this kind V2 
to 14 feet in leuirtli. - F\a. w. 

Screening effects due to the currents in the tubes. — One very noticeable 
feature of these discharges is the well-defined character of the ring, if 
the pressure is not too low. If a large bulb is used for the secondary 
with the primary just outside it, when the sparks 
pass between the jars a bright, well-defined ring 
passes through the bulb near to the suri'ace of the 
glass, the gas inside this ring being, as far as can 
be judged, quite free from any discharge. If now a 
bulb whose diameter is less than that of the lumin- 
ous ring is inserted in the primary in place of the 
larger bulb, a bright ring will start in this, though 
at this distance from the primary there was no dis- 
charge in the larger bulb. Thus when the large 
bulb was in the primary, the discharge through its 
(mter portions screened the interior from electro- 
■Jb^a/^ motive forces to an extent sufficient to stop a dis- 
^'*''^' (;harge which would otherwise take place. 

The screening action of these discharges is also shown by the follow- 
ing exi)eriment: A, B, C, Fig. 11, is the section of a glass vessel shaped 
like a Bunsen's calorimeter; in the inner portion A, B. C of this vessel 


;iii oxliiiusted tube is placHMl, while a pipe Iroiii tlie outer vessel leads 
to a mercury ])uiiip and enables us to alter tlu' pressure at will. The 
primary coil, L, M. is wouiul round the outer tube. When the air in 
the outer tube is at atmosi)heric })ressure, the discharge caused by tbe 
action of the primary i)asses in the tube I'] inserted in A, B, C; but 
when the pressure iu the outer tube is reduced until a discharge i)asses 
through it, tlu' discharge in the inner one sto]>s; the discharge in the 
out(n- tube has thus sliielded the inner tube from the action of the 
primary. It the exhaustion of tiie outer tul)e is carried so tar that the 
discliarge through it ceases, tliat in the inner tube begins again. It re 
(piires very high exhaustion to do this, and as on account of the joints 
it is uusafe to niaivc the vessel very liot during the ])umping, I have 
found it impossible ro keep a vacuum good enougli to show this ettect 
for more thau from half to tiiree (piarters of an hour; in that time suffi- 
cient gas seems to have escaped from the sides of the vessel to make 
the pressure too high to show this effect, and It then takes from two to 
three hcmrs' ])unii)ing to get the tube back again into its former state. 
An interesting feature of this experiment is that for a small range of 
])ressure, just greater than that at which the discharge first ai)i»ears in 
the outer tube, there is no discharge iu either of the tubes; thus the 
action of the primary is screened off from the inner tube, though there 
is no luminosity visible in the outer one; this shows that a discharge 
ecpiivalent in its effects to a current can exist in the gas without suffi- 
cient luminosity to be visible even in a darkened room. We shall have 
occasicHi to mention other cases in which the existence of a discharge 
non luminous througiiout the whole of its course is rendered evident iu 
a similar way. 

Another experiment by which the screening can be effectively shown 
is to i)lace the primary coil inside a bell-Jar which is connected with a 
mercury i)umi), the electrical connexions with the primary being led 
through mercury joints. An exhausted bulb is placed inside the pri- 
mary, the bulb being considerably smaller than the primary, so that 
there is an air-space between the two. Before the bell-jai' is exhausted 
the discharge passes through the bulb, but when the ])ell-jar is ex- 
hausted sufficiently to allow of the discharge ])assing through the gas 
outside the bulb the discharge in the bulb ceases, and the oidy dis- 
charge is tliat oHtside. I ha\ e never Ixhmi able to exhaust the bulb 
sufficiently well to get the discharge outside the bell-jar to cease, and 
that in the bulb to appear again, as in the preceding experiment. In 
this experiment, as in tiie ])receding one, there was a range of pressure 
when neither the bulb nor the bell-Jar was luminous, showing again the 
existence of currents in the gas which are not accompanied by any 
appreciable luminosity. 

A curious beiiding-in of tiie discharge which takes i)lace in a stiuare 
tube i)rovided with a bulb can, I think, Ix; ex])lained by the princii)le 
of shielding. The discharge in the bulb does not, unless very long 


s] talks are u«ed, take as its course throu<ili tlie bull) tlie prolongation 
ot the direction of the tube, but is bent-iu towards the primary. In 
Fig. 12 the dotted line represents the course the discharge 
would have taken if there had been no bulb, the continu- 
ous line the course actually taken. This bending-in can 
be explained by supposing the currents started- near the 
j)rimary to shield off from the outlying space the action 
of the ijrimary, and thus make the electro-motive in- 
tensity along the axis of the tube smaller than it would 
Fiu. 1.'. have been if no discharge had been possible between the 

axis and the primary circuit. 
Before describing some further experiments on this shielding effect, 
it will be useful to consider the means by which it is brought about. 
Let us suppose we have a vertical plate made of conducting material, 
and to the right of the i^late a region A which it shields. This region 
has to be shielded from tubes of electrostatic induction coming from 
the left, which have to i)ass through the shield before reaching A, and 
from tubes coming from the right which have to pass thr<mgh A before 
reaching the field. The action of the shield in the first case is very 
simple, for when a tube gets inside a conductor it at once attempts to 
contract to molecular dimensions, and after a time i^roportional to the 
specific resistance of the conductor it succeeds in doing so. Thus if the 
shield is made of a good conductor the tubes of electrostatic induction 
will be triinsformed into molecular tubes before they have time to get 
through; so that the shield will protect A from all tubes which have 
to go through it. The way the shield destroys or rather neutralizes 
the effect of the tubes coming from the right is somewhat different: 
when a positive tube reaches the shield a negative one emerges from it, 
travelling at right angles to itself in the opposite direction to the inci- 
dent tube; thus, when the first few tubes reach the shield from the 
riglit they will produce a supply of negative ones, and the presence of 
these negative tubes at A concurrently with the positive ones which 
continue to arrive there will ^A■eaken the field to a greater and greater 
extent as A approaches the shield. At the surface of the shield itself 
the neutralization will be complete. A dielectric whose specific induc- 
tive capacity is greater than usual will behave in a similar way to a 
metal plate, but to a smaller extent. It will emit tubes of the opposite 
sign, but not so numerous as those incident upon it. Thus a metal 
plate, or even one made of a dielectric of considerable specific inductive 
capacity, will reduce very considerably the tangential electromotive 
force on either side of it. 

I have made several experiments in which this effect was very strik- 
ingly .shown. In one of these, two square discharge-tubes of equal 
cross section i)laced near and parallel to each other were connected by 
a cross tube, so that the pressure was the same in both tubes; a fine 
wire passed round the inside of one of the tubes, its ends being con- 


nceted togetlier so that it tunned a. (closed circuit, the other tube con- 
tained nothiiiji' but air at a low pressure. When this double tube wsis 
placed outside the primary the dischari^c^ went, at the passage of each 
sjiar-k, througli the tube without a wire, while the tube containing the 
wire remained <iuite dark. A similar experiment was tried by taking a 
cylindrical tube and siis])ending in it a metal ling co-axial with the 
tube; in this case it was easy to adjust the spark-length so that no dis- 
charge ])assed through the tul)e when tlie primary Avas ]daced round it 
at the level of the ring, while a discharge passed as soon as the primary 
was moved above or below the ring. 

Another very convenient tube for showing this etiect is the one with 
the hollow down the midd]<>, Fig. 11; when this is pumped so that dis- 
charges can pass througli the outer tube the spark-length can be 
adjusted so that the discharge stops immediately when a metal tube, a 
test-tube containing a strong solution of an electrolyte, or a tube con- 
taining air at a pressure at which it is electrically very weak, is placed 
in the central opening. The discharge is renewed again as soon as the 
tubes are removed. On one occasion, when the large tube was in a 
peculiarly sensitive state, 1 was able to see distinctly the diminution 
produced by a dielectric in the electro-motive intensity parallel to its 
surface. The discharge stopp<'d as soon as a stick of sulphur or a 
glass rod sufliciently large almost to till the opening was inserted, and 
was renewed again as soon as these were withdrawn. It requires how- 
ever the large tube to be in an extremely sensitive state for the efitect 
produced by a dielectric to be apparent, and I have only on one occa- 
sion succeeded in getting the tube into this condition. The effect on 
that occasion however was so d<^tinite an<l regular that 1 ha^e no 
doubt as to the existence of the screening eft'ect due to the dielectric. 

When the tube is of average sensitiveness <lielectrics do not pro- 
duce any appreciable ettect, nor can the iniiuence of even comparatively 
so good a conductor as distilled water be detected, and it is not until 
after the addition of a. considerable quantity, 10 to 20 i>er cent of sul- 
phuric; acid or anunonium cliloride that the insertion or withdrawal of 
the tube stops or starts the discharge. 

A tube containing air at a low i)ressure is very eflicacious in stopi)iug 
the discharge, and the result of the comparison of the relative effects 
of an exhausted tube and a tube of the same size and shape contain- 
ing a solution of an electrolyte are very remarkable. I fimnd that an 
exhausted tube which contained air at a very low pressure (less than 
yL of a millimetre) produced as nuich effect on the discharge in the 
outer tube as a tube containing at least r>0,(K)() times as many mole- 
cnles of ammonium chloiide. This would be expressed in the language 
of electrolysis by saying that under the electro-moti\e intensity to 
which it was ex])osed in Ihis e.\peiiu)ent the mohnmlar conducti\ity of 
the gas is 50,000 times that of the electrolyte. The pro^jortion between 
the number of air molecules aiul the luimber of molecules of an elec- 


trolyte, which produces an equal eifect in stopping tlie discharge, 
depends upou the length of spark intlie primary current, and so upon 
the electro-motive force acting upon the air. The longer the spark the 
greater is the molecular conductivity of the air in coinparison with that 
of the electrolyte. This indicates that the conduction through the air 
does not follow Ohm's law. This is what we should expect, as under 
large electro-motive forces more molecules are split up and take part in 
the conduction of the electricity. This great conductivity of rarefied 
gases in those cases where the electricity has not to pass from metal, 
etc., into the gas are in striking contrast with the infinitesimally small 
values for the same property which are deduced from experiments on 
tubes with electrodes. 

I was first led to suspect this high conductivity for rarefied gases by 
observing the appearance presented by the ring-discharge in bulbs; 
the ring, unless the pressure is exceedingly low, ceases at a distance 
of little more than 1 centim from the surface of the bulb, this thick- 
ness of conducting gas being sufficient to screen off the electromotixe 
intensity from the interior. From experiments which I had made on 
the screening effect' of electrolytes {Proc. Roy. ^Soe. xlv. p. 269), I knew 
that it would require a very strong solution of an electrolyte to produce 
screening comparable with this. To compare the screening effects 
more directly than by the method just described 1 tried the following 
experiment. The discluirge-tube. Fig. 11, was pumi)ed until the dis- 
charge passed through it very freely; an exhausted tube was then 
pushed down the central opening, it remained quite free from any visi- 
ble discharge; the primary was now wound round a cylinder of tlie 
same diameter as the discharge-tube of Fig. 11, and this cylinder was 
tilled with distilled water. When the tube, Avhich had previously 
remained dark wlien placed in the exhausted discharge-tube, was im- 
mersed in the water, a brilliant discharge took place in it; and it was 
necessary to add about 25 per cent of sulphuric acid to the water before 
the shielding effect of the mixture was sufficient to keep the tube dark. 
This experiment shows perhaps even more directly than the other the 
great conductivity of a rarefied gas under large electro-motive forces 
when nothing but the gas is in the way of the passage of the current. 

An experiment made in this connection illustrates the remark made 
before as to the large effects produced by discharges through the gas 
which are not accompanied by luminosity. A bulb A was fused into a 
tube B which was surrounded by the primary coil C, I). B was ex- 
hausted and then sealed off', while A was left connected to the pump. 
When A was at atmospheric pressure a bright discharge took place in 
B outside A; on pumping A a stage was reached in which no dischargi^ 
could be seen in either A or B. On letting air into A the discharge 
appeared again in B; on i)umping A still further a discharge appeared 
in A, but not in B. The appearance presented by the discharge round 
the bulb A (filled in this case with air at high pressure) is very remark- 




:ibl('. At the liigiiest pressure at wiiicli the (lisciiaruc passed it took 
the loiiu of a tliiu ring roiuul the iui<hUe ot A; as the i)ressare i-ot 
h)\ver and lower the discliarse broadened out, and at very low i)ressures 
lonned for the .ureater part of its eonrse two separate rings which ran 
log-ether in the space between one side of the sphere and the tube. 

On file effect prodneed by vonduciors near the discharge tube. — The 
intensity of the discharge is very much alfected by the preseiu-e of con- 
ductors in the neighborhood of the discharge tube, especially conductors 
which have large capacity or which are connected to earth. Let us 
take, for example, a very simple case, that of a bulb surrounded by a 
lu'imary which is connected to earth; in this case the approach of the 
hand, or any conductor connected to earth, will make the discharge 
Innghter and at the sanu' time less well-detiiied at the edges; touching 
the tube, thimgli this is already connected to earth, produces a very 
marked effect in increasing the facility of the discharge. We can, I 
think, understand the reason of this if we consider the behavior of the 
tubes of electrostatic iudn(;tion. When the spark passes, these tubes 
(see Fig. 2, j). 284) rush out from the jars and make for the primary; in 
their Journey to the primary they pass thiough the bulb and produce the 
discharge. Let us snp])ose now that there is a large conductor situated 
somewhere near t]iel)ulb; the tubes, as before, rush from the jar to the 
primary, but in doing so s<»me of them strike against the conductor; 
the tubes which do so lose the i)ortion inside tlu^ conductor, ac(piire 
two ends each on the surface of the conductor, and swing round until 
they are at right angles to its surface; they remain momentarily 
anchored, as it Avere, to the conductor, and if th(^ coiiductar is in the 
neighborhood of the bull), they will in general help to increase the 
maximum density of the tubes passing through the bulb. Though 
these tubes may not approximate to closed curves, and so directly i)ro- 
duce a ring discharge, th«\v ni:iy readily facilitate- tliis discharge indi- 
rectly; for even those tubes which go radially through the bulb may 



produce a <i,low dischiirge from the glass into the bulb, and may thus 
furnish a supply of dissociated molecules through which the ordinary ring- 
discharge can pass with much greater readiness. For nothing is more 
striking than the enormous difference produced in the electric strength 
of these rarefied gases by the passage of a spark. It is sometimes 
difficult to get the discharge to pass at first, but when once a spark has 
passed through the gas, a spark length one- quarter the length of that 
necessary to originate the discharge will be found sufficient to main- 
tain it. 

It is sometimes convenient, in cases where difficulty is found in start- 
ing the discharge, to avail ourselves of this property by connecting the 
mercury of the pump to which the tube is attached with one terminal 
of an induction coil, the other terminal of which is i^ut to earth. When 
tlie induction coil is in action, a glow-discharge fills the pump and tube, 
and while this glow exists the electrodeless discharge can easily be 
started; once liaving been started, it will continue after the induction- 
coil is stopped. An experiment of this kind, which I had occasion to 
make, gave very clear evidence of the way in which dissociated mole- 
cailes are projected in all directions from the negative electrode in an 
ordinary discharge tube, but not from the positive. The discharge tube 
was fused onto the pump, and at an elbow two terminals, c and d, Fig. 
II, were fused into the glass; these terminals were connected with an 

induction coil, and the pressure in the tube 
was such that the electrodeless discharge 
would not start of itself. When the coil was 
turned on so that c was the negative electrode 
the electrodeless discharge in the tube at 
oace took place, but no effect at all was pro- 
duced when (' was jjositive and d negative. 
We may thus regard the effect produced by 
the i)resence of a conductor as due to the 
conductor catching the tubes of electrostatic; 
induction and concentrating them on the 
O discharge tubes; these tubes in many cases 
acting indirectly by producing a glow dis- 
charge through the tube, which, by diminish- 
ing the electric strength of the gas, makes 
discliargesof any other kind very much easier. 
Fig. 14. Though the presence of a conductor near the 

discharge tube will, in general, concentrate the tubes of electrostatic 
induction on the discharge tube more than would otherwise be the case, 
yet this does not always happen. When in some positions the conduc- 
tor may hold back for a time from the discharge tube tubes of electro- 
static induction which would otherwise pass through it, and thus 
diminish tlie maxinuim density of the tubes of electrostatic induction 
in the discharge tube, and hence tend to stop the discharge. I have 

pamjp — 





IVo(|iieiitly met with cases where the [)reseMce of a conductor diminishes 
the intensity of the discharge. One of the most striking of these is 
when the two jars are iusnlated, and a square discharge tube used. 
The si)ark was adjusted so that the discharge just, but only just, went 
round the tube. A spliere connected to earth was then moved round 
the discharge tube; in some positions it increased the brilliancy of the 
discharge, and the tube became quite bright, while in other positions 
it stopped the discharge altogether. 

The observation of the behavior of the discharges through these 
tubes is a very convenient method of studying the effect of conductors 
in deflecting the flow of the tubes of electrostatic induction which fall 
upon them; for the appearance of the discharge is affected not merely 
by the average, but also by the maximum value of the electro-motive 
intensity which produces it. Thus a high maximum value, lasting only 
for a short time, might produce a discharge, while a more equable dis- 
tribution of electro- motive intensity having the same average value 
might leave the tube quite dark. 

1 have employed these discharges to study the behavior of bodies 
under the action of very rapid electrical oscillations in the following 
way: In the primary circuit connecting the outside coatings of the jar 
two loops, A and B (Fig. 15), were made, in one of 
which, A, an exhausted bulb was ])laced, the spark- 
length and the pressure of the gas on it being ad- 
justed until the discharge was sensitive, /. c, until 
a small alteration in the electro-motive intensity 
acting on the bulb produced a considerable effect 
upon the appearance presented by the discharge. 
The substance whose behavior under rapid elec- 
trical vibrations was to be examined was placed in 
the loop J5. The results got at flrstwere very per- 
plexing, and at flrst sight contradictory, and it was some time before I 
could see their ex])lanation. The Ibllowing are some of these results: 
When a highly exhausted bulb was ])]aced in B a brilliant discharge 
passed through it, while the discharge in A stopped. A bulb of the 
same size, lilled with a dilute solution of (^h'ctrolyte, i)roduce(l noa])pre- 
ciableettect; when iilled wirha strongsolntioii it dinnned the discliarge 
in A, but not to the same extent as the exhausted bulb. A piece of 
brass rod or tube inc^reased the brightness of the discharge in A; oii 
the other hand, a similar piece of ii'on rod or tube stoi)pe(l the dis- 
charge in A at once. The most decided effect. Iiowever, was pidduced 
by a small crucible made of })lnmbago and clay: this, wlien put in the 
loop B, stopped the <lischaige in A com})letely. 1 found however that 
by considering the work si)ent on the substance placed in B, tiie pre 
ceding results could be exi)lained. When a large amount of wori< is 
spent in 1>, the dis(;harge in A will be dimmed, while no api)reciable 
effect will be produced on A when the work spent in B is small. Now 


let us consider the work done in a secondary circuit whose resistance is 
R, whose coefficient of self-induction is L, and which has a coefficient 
of mutual induction, M, with the primary circuit. If the frequency of 
the current circulating in tlie primary is p, we can easily prove thatthe 
rate of absorption of work by the secondary is proi^ortional to 

R M2 jj2 

Thus the work given to the secondary viinislies when 11 = and when 
R^ infinity, and has a, nutxiiuum value when R = L^>. Thus the con- 
dition that the secondary should absorb a considerable amount of work 
is that the resistance should not differ much from a value depending 
on the shape of the circuit and the frequency of the current in the 
primary. No appreciable amount of work is consumed w hen the resist- 
ance is very much greater or very much less than this value. 1 tested 
this result by placing inside B a coil of copper wire. When the ends 
were free, so that no current could pass through it, it produced no 
efit'ect upon the bulb in A; when the ends were joined so that there 
was only a very small resistance in the circuit, the effect Avas, if any- 
thing, to increase the brightness of the discharge in A. When how- 
ever the ends were connected through a carbon resistance which could 
be adjusted at will, the discharge in A became very distinctly duller 
when there was a very considerable resistance in the circuit. This 
experiment confirms the conclusion that to absorb energy the resist- 
ance must lie within certain limits, and be neither too large nor too 

We can now see the cause of the differences observed when the sub- 
stances mentioned above were put into B. The brass rod and tube 
did not dim the discharge in A, because their resistance was too low; 
the weak solution of electrolyte, because the resistance was too great; 
while the resistances of the crucible and the strong solution of ele(;- 
trolyte which obliterated the discharge from A were near the value for 
which the absorption of energy by the system was a maxinuim. 

The case of iron is very interesting because it shows that even under 
these very rapidly alternating forces, iron still retains its magnetic 
properties. A striking illustration of the difference l)etween iron and 
other metals is shown when we take an iron rod and place it in B, the 
discharge in A immediately stops; if we now slip a brass tube over the 
iron rod tlie discluirge in A is at once restored. If on the other hand 
we use a brass rod and an iron tube, when the rod is put in B without 
the tube the discharge in A is bright; if we slij) the iron tube over the 
rod, the discharge stops. 

To compare the amount of heat produced in the brass and iron sec- 
ondaries [calculations are introduced by which the author estimates 
that] for iron and copper cylinders of the same dimensions it would be 
about seventy times as large in the iron as in the copper, assuming 


that the iron retaiiis its maiinetic jn-operties under these very rapidly 
alternating- forees. The result explains the etieet of the iron in stop- 
ping the (liseharge. As I am not aware that any magnetie properties 
of iron under such rai)idly alternating forces have been observed, I was 
anxious to make quite sure that the <lifference between iron and brass 
was not due solely to the differeiu'es between their specific resistances. 
The first experiment I tried with this object was to cover the iron rod 
with thin sheet platinum, such as is used for Grove cells. As the re- 
sistance of phxtinum is not very different from that of iron, if the effect 
depended merely upon the resistance, slipping a thin tube of platinum 
over the iron ought to make very little diii'erence. I found however 
that when tlie ])latinum was placed over the iron, all the])eculiar effects 
produced by the latter were absent, thus showing that the effect is not 
due to the resistance of the iron. It then occurred to me that 1 might 
test the same thing in another way by magnetizing the iron to satura- 
tion, for in this state // is nearly unity; thus if the result depended 
mainly on the magneti(i properties of the iron it ought to diminish 
when the latter is strongly magnetized. I accordingly tried an experi- 
ment in which the iron in the coil B was placed between the poles of a 
l)Owerful electro-magnet. When the magnet was "off" the iron almost 
stopped the discliarge in A; when it was "on" the discharge became 
brighter, not indeed so bright as if the iron were away altogether, but 
still unmistakably l)righter than when it Avas unmagnetized. This ex- 
periment, I tliink, i)roves that iron retains its magnetic projjerties 
when exposed to these rapidly alternating forces. 

Another result worthy of remark is that though a brass rod or tube 
inserted in B does not stop the discharge in A, yet if a piece of glass 
tubing of tlie same dimensions is coated with Dutch metal, or if it has 
a thin film of silver deposited upon it, it will stop the discharge very 
decidedly. We are thus led to the somewhat unexpected result that a 
thin layer of metal when ex[)osed to these very rapid electrical vibra- 
tions may absorb more heat than a thick one. I find, on calculating 
the heating effect in slabs of various th.icknesscs, that there is a thick- 
ness for which the heat absorbed is a maximum. - - 

The slight iii(;rease in tlie brigiitiiess of the discharge in A when a, 
brass rod is placed in 1> is due, I tiiiuJi, to the dimiiuilioii in the self- 
induction in the i)rimary <;ircuit i>rodiu-ed by this rod whose condnc- 
tivity is so good that it absorbs practically no heat. 

We will now return tothe<;aseof bad conductors, where nn is small; 
here the absor])tion of eneigy is proi)orti(»nal to the conductivity, and 
we might use this method to compare the conductivity of electrolytes 
for very rapidly alternating currents. I tried a few experiments of 
this kind and found, as 1 did in the experiments described in the Fro- 
ceedhifjs of the Roi/al iSoeiety, XLV, p. 200, that the ratio of the conduc- 
tivities of two electrolytes was the same for ra]»idly alternating as for 
steady currents. I was anxious, however, to see whether these rai)idly 


alternating ciiireuts could pass with the same facility as steady cur- 
rents from an electrolite to a metal. To try this two equal beakers were 
tilled with the same electrolyte made of such strength that when in- 
serted in B they i)ut out the discharge in A. I then placed in one 
beaker six ebonite diaphragms arranged so as to stop the eddy cur- 
rents, and a similar metallic diaphragm in the other. The ebonite 
diaphragm made the beaker in which it was placed cease to have any 
effect upon the dis(;harge in A. I could not detect however that the 
effect of the beaker in which the metal diaphragm was placed on the 
discharge in A was at all diminished by the introduction of the dia- 
phragm. I conclude therefore that very rapidly alternating currents 
can pass with facility from electrolytes to metals and vice versa. In this 
respect electrolytes differ from gases, the currents in which, as we have 
seen, are stopped by a metallic diaphragm in the same way as they would 
be by an ebonite one. 

It may be useful to observe in passing that a somewhat minute divi- 
sion of the electrolyte by the non-conducting diaphragm is necessary 
to stop the effect of the eddy currents; a division of the electrolytes 
into two or three portions seemed to produce very little effect. 

Another point wiiich is brought out by these experiments is the great 
conductivity of raritied gases when no electrodes are used as compared 
with that of electrolytes. An exhausted bulb will produce as much 
effect on the discharge in A as the same bull) tilled with a solution of 
an electrolyte containing about a hundred thousand times as many 
molecules of electrolyte. The molecular conductivity of raritied gases 
when the electro-motive intensity is very great and when no electrodes 
are used must be thus enormously greater than that of electrolytes. 

Bulbs filled with raritied gas used in the way I have described serve 
as galvanometers, by which we can estimate roughly the relative in- 
tensity of the current tlowiug through the inimary coils which encircle 
them. Used for this purpose 1 have found them very useful in some 
experiments on which 1 am at present engaged, on the distribution of 
very rai)idly alternating currents among a net- work of conductors. 


By Prof. .1. A. EwiNG, F. R. S. 

Magnetic indiu'tioii is the name given by Faraday to the act of be- 
comiug magnetized, wliieh certain substances perform when they are 
]»laced in a magnetic field. A magnetic field is the region near a mag- 
net, or near a conductor c<mveying an electrics current. Throughout 
such a region there is what is called magnetie force, and when certaiu 
substances are placed in the magnetic field the nuignetic force causes 
them to become nuignetized by magnetic induction. An effective way 
of producing a magnetic field is to wind a conducting wire into a coil, 
and pass a current througli the wire. Within tlie coil we have a region 
of comparatively strong magnetic force, and when apiece of iron is 
l)laced there it may be strongly magnetized. Not all substances possess 
this property. Put a piece of wood or stone or copi)er or silver into 
the field, and nothing noteworthy happens; but put a piece of irou or 
ni( ke] oi' cobalt and at once you find that the piece lias become a mag- 
net. These three metals, with some of tbeir alloys and compounds, 
stiind out from all other substances in this respect. Not only are they 
capable of magnetic induction — of becoming magnets while exposed 
to the action of tiie magnetic field, but when withdrawn from the field 
they are found to retain a part of the magnetism they acquired. They 
all show this ])roi»erty of r(^tentiveness, more or less. In some of them 
this residual nuignetism is feebly held, and may be shaken out or oth- 
erw isc remo\ed without difficulty. In others, notably in some steels, 
it is very ]>ersistent, and the 1;ict is taken advantiige of in the manu- 
facture of permanent magnets, which are simply bars of steel, of proper 
(juality, which have been subjected to the action of a strong mag- 
netic field. Of all substances, soft iron is the most suscei)tible io the 
action of the field. It <-an also under favorable conditions, retain — 
w hen taken out of the fu'Id — a v^ery large fraction of tlie magnetism that 
has Ix-en induced — more than nine-tenths, — more indeed than is re- 
tained by steel; but its hold of this residual magn<'tisin is not firm, and 
for that reason it will not serve as a material for permanent magnets. 
My pur])osc to-night is to give some account of the mole(;ular process 
through which we may conceive magnetic induction to take ])lace. and 
of the structure which makes residual magnetism possible. 

' Al)8triict of ii Friday eveniiif; (liscouisc delivered at the Royal Iiistitutioii ou 
Mav 22, 1891. (From Saturn, Oct. I."), 1891; vol. xliv, pp. 566-572.) 



When a piece of iron or nickel or cobalt is magnetized by induction, 
the magnetic state j^ermeates the whole jjiece. It is not a suijerficial 
change of state. Break the piece into as many fragments as you please, 
and yon will find that every one of these is a magnet. In seeking an 
explanation of magnetic quality we must penetrate the innermost 
framework of the sul)stance — we must go to the molecules. 

Now, in a molecular theory of magnetism there are two i)ossibh', 
beginnings. We might suppose, with Poisson, that each molecule 
becomes magnetized when the field begins to act. Or we may adopt 
the theory of Weber, which says that the molecules of iron are 
always magnets and that what the field does is to turn them so that 
they face morc^ or less one way. According to this view, a virgin 
piece of iron shows no magnetic polarity, not because its molecules are 
not magnets, but because they lie so thoroughly '^higgledy-]»iggledy" as 
regards direction that no greater number point one way than another. 
But when the magnetic force of the field begins to act, the molecules 
turn in response to it, and so a preponderating number come to face in 
the direction in which the magnetic force is applied, the result of which 
is that the piece as a whole shows magnetic polarity. All the facts go 
to confirm Weber's view. One fact in particular I nsay mention at 
once — it is almost conclusive in itself. When the molecular magnets 
are all turned to face one way, the piece lias clearly received as much 
magnetization as it is cai)able of. Accordingly, if Weber's theory be 
true, we must expect to find that in a very strong magnetic field a piece 
of iron or other magnetizable metal heronwi^ S(ifvr(( fol, so thut it can 
not take up any more magnetism, however much the field be strength- 
ened. This is just what happens. Experiments were published a few 
years ago which ])ut the fact of saturation beyond a doubt, and gave 
values of the limit to which the intensity of magnetization may be 

When a piece of iron is put in a magnetic field, wt' do not find that 
it becomes saturated unless the field is exceedingly strong. A weak 
field induces but little magnetism; and if the field be strengthened, 
more and more magnetism is acquired. This shoAA s that the molecules 
do not turn with perfect readiness in response to the deflecting mag- 
netic fin'ce of the field. Their turning is in some way resisted, and this 
resistance is overcome as the field is strengthened, so that the magnet- 
ism of the piece increases stej) by step. What is the directing force 
which })revents the molecules from at once yielding to the deflecting 
influence of the field, and to what is that force due? And ;igain, how 
comes it after they have been deflected they return partially, but by no 
means wholly, to their original i»laces when the field ceases to act? 

I think these questions receive a. complete and satisfactory answer 
when we take account of the forces which the molecules necessarily 
exert on one another in consequence of the fact that they are magnets. 
We shall study the matter by examining the behavior of groui)S of 


little magnets, pivoted like compass needles, so that each is free to turn 
except for the constraint which each one suiters on account of the 
presence of its neighbors. 

But tirst let us see more particularly wliat ha[)pens when a i)iecc of 
iron or steel or nickel or cobalt is magnetized by means of a tield the 
strength of which is gradually augmented from nothin g. We may make 
the ex])eriment by i)lacing a piece of iron in a coil, and making a cur- 
rent How in the coil with gradually increased strength, noting at each 
stage the relation of the induced mag:netism to the strength of the field. 
This relation is observed t(> be by no means a simple one: it may be 
represented by a curve (Fig. 1), and an inspection of the curve will 
show that the process is divisible, broadly, into three tolerably distinct 
stages. In thcflist stage (<i) the magnetism isbeing nequired but slowly: 


MAGNeric Force 

Fig. 1. 

the molecules, if we accept Weber's theory, are not responding readily — 
they are rather hard to turn. In the second stage (b) their resistance 
to turning has to a great extent broken down, and the piece is gaining 
magnetism fast. In the third stage (c) the rate of increment of mag- 
netism falls oif : we are there ai)proachiug the condition of saturation, 
thougli the process is still a good way from being completed. 

Further, if we stoj) at any point of the process, such as P, and grad- 
ually reduce the current in tlie coil until there is no current, and there- 
fore no magnetic tield, we shall get a curve like the dotted line PQ, the 
height of Q showing the amount of the residual magnetism. 

If we make tliis experiment at a point in the first stage {a), we vshall 
find, as Lord Rayleigh has shown, little or no residual magnetism; if 
we make it at any point in the second stage (/>), we shall find very 
much residual magnetism; and if we make it at any point in the third 
stage (c), we shall find only a little more residual magnetism than we 
should have found by making the experiment at the end of stage h. 
That part of the turning of the molecules which goes on in stage a con- 
tributes nothing to the residual magnetism. That part which goes on 
in stage c contributes little. But that part of the turning wliicli goes 
on in stage b contributes very mnclj. 
H. Mis. lU 17 


In some specimens of magnetic metal we find a much sharper separa- 
tion of the three stages than in others. By applying strain in certain 
ways it is jiossible to get tlie stages very clearly separated. Fig. 2, a 
beautiful instance of that, is taken from a paper by Mr. Nagaoka — one 
of an able band of Japanese workers wlio are bidding fair to repay the 
debt that Japan owes for its learning to the West. It shows how a 
piece of nickel whicli is under the joint action of pull and twist becomes 
magnetized in a growing magnetic field. There the first stage is ex- 
ceptionally prolonged, and the second stage is extraordinarily abrupt. 

The bearing of all this on the uK^lecular theory will be evident when 
we turn to these models, consisting of an assemblage of little pivoted 
magnets, which may be taken to represent, no doubt in a very crude 
"way, the molecular structure of a magnetizable metal. I have here 
some large models, where the pivoted magnets are pieces of sheet steel, 
some cut into short flat bars, others into diamond shapes with i)ointed 
ends, others into shapes resembling mushrooms or umbrellas, and in 
these the magnetic field is produced by means of a coil of insulated 
wire wound on a large wooden frame below the magnets. Some ot 
these are arranged with the pivots on a gridiron or lazy- tongs of jointed 
wooden bars, so that we may readily distort them, and vary the dis- 
tances of the pivots from one another, to imitate some of the effects of 
strain in the actual solid. But to display the experiments to a large 
audience a lantern model will serve best. In this one the magnets are 
got by taking to pieces numbers of little pocket compasses. The pivots 
are cemented to a glass plate, through which the light passes in such a 
way as to project the shadows of the magnets on the screen. The mag- 
netic force is ai)[)lied by means of two coils, one on either side of the 
assemblage of magnets and out of the way of the light, which together 
produce a nearly uniform magnetic field throughout the wliole group. 
You see this when I make manifest the field in a well-known fashion, 
by dropping iron filings on the plate. 

We shall first put a single pivoted magnet on the plate. So long as 
no field acts it is free to ])oiut anyhow— there is no direction it prefers 
to any other, As soon as I apply even a very weak field it responds, 


turning at once into the exact direction of the applied force, for there 
was nothing (beyond a trifling friction at the pivot) to prevent it from 

Now try two magnets. I liave cut off" the current, >so that there is at 
present no fiehl, hut you see at once thattlio pair has, so to speak, a will 
of its own. I may shake or disturb them as I please, but they insist on 
taking up a position (Fig. ."J) with the north end of one as close as i)os- 


Fiii. :i. Fig. 4. 

sible to the sontli end of the other. If disturbed they return to it; this 
configuration is highly stable. Watch what happens when the mag- 
netic field acts with gradually growing strength. At first, so long as 
the field is weak (Fig. 4), there is but little defection; but as the de- 
flection increases it is evident that the stability is being lost, the state 
is getting more and mcn-e critical, until (Fig. 5) the tie that holds them 

together seems to break, and they suddenly turn, with violent swing- 
ing, into almost perfect alignment with tlie nuignefic tbrce II. J^ow I 
gradually remove the force, and you see that they are slow to return, 
but a stage comes when they swing back, and a complete removal of 
the force brings tliem into the condition with which we began (Fig. li). 
If we Avere to picture a ])iccc of ir>n as formed of a vast number of 
such pairs of molecular magnets, each pair far enough from its neigh- 
bors to be ])ractically out of reach of their magnetic intluence, we 
might deduce many of the observed magnetic ])roi)crties, but not all. 
In particular, we should not be able to account for so much residual 

Fk;. 0. 

magnetism as is actually found. To get that, the molecules must make 
new coniu'ctioiis when the old ones a-i'e l)rokcn; their lelations are of 
a kind more complex thau the (|uasi-matrimoniai one which the experi- 


ment exhibits. Each molecule is a member of a larger community, 
and has probably many neighbors close enougli to aflect its conduct. 
We get a better idea of what happens by considering four magnets 
(Fig 6). At first, in the absence of deflecting magnetic force, they 
group themselves in stable pairs — in one of a number of jiossible com- 
binations. Then — as in the former case — when magnetic force is ap- 
plied, they are at first slightly deflected, in a manner that exactly 
tallies with what I have called the stage a of the magnetizing process. 


Fig. 7. 

Fig. 8. 

Next comes instability. Tlie original ties break up, and the magnets 
swing violently round ; but finding a new possibility of combining 
(Fig. 7), they take to tliat. Finally, as the field IkS further strengthened 
they are drawn into perfect alignment with the ai^plied magnetic force. 
(Fig. 8). 

1 ^ \ y 


Fig. 9. 

We see the same three stages in a multiform group (Figs. 9, 10, 
11). At first, tlie group, if it is shuffled by any casual disturbance, 
arranges itself tit random in lines that give no resultant polarity (Fig. 



9). A weak force produces no iiiore tliaii slight quasi-elastic deflections 5 
a stronger force breaks up the old lines, and forms new ones more fa- 
vorably inclined to the direction of the force (Fig. 10). A very strong 
force brings alxtut saturation (Fig. 11). 

In an actual piece of iron there are multitudes of groups lying differ- 
ently directed to begin with — perhaps also different as regards the 
spacing of their mend)ers. Some enter the second stage while others 
are still in the first, and so on. Hence, the curve of magnetization 
does not consist of i^erfectly sharp steps, but has the rounded outlines 
of Fig. 1. 

\ \ 

I 1 

I \ \ 


\ \ ^ 

' ', \ \ 

I I 1 ^ ^ ^ 


1 1 '. I 



Fl(i. 10. Kiu. 11. 

Notice, again, liow the behavior of these assemblages of elementary 
magnets agrees with what I have said about residual magnetism. If 
we stop strengthening the field before the first stage is passed — before 
any of the magnets have beconu^ unstable and have tund)led round 
into new idaces — the small detlection simply disappears, and there is no 
residual effect on the (configuration of the group. But if we carry the 
l)rocess far enough to have unstable deflections, the etfects of these 
l)ersist when the force is i-emoved, for the magnets then retain the new 
gronping into wliicli they have fallen (lug. 10). And again, the quasi- 
elastic dclh'ctions which go on dnring tlie third stagedo not add to the 
residual magnetism. 

Notice, further, what hapjxMis to the gronp if after ai)plying a magnetic 
forceinonedirection and rcmo\ ingit, 1 l)egin to apjjly force in thcojipo- 
site direction. At first there is little leduction of the residual polarity, 


till a stage is readied wlien instability begins, and then reversal occurs 
witli a rush. We thus find a close imitation of all the features tlui^ 
are actually observed when iron or any of theotlier magnetic metals is 
carried through a cyclic magnetizing process (Fig 12). The effect of 
any such process is to form a loop in the curve which expresses the re- 
lation of the magnetism to the magnetizing force. The changes of 
magnetism always lag behind the changes of magnetizing force. This 
tendency to lag behind is called magnetic hysteresis. 



Maanetic Force 



Fig. 12. — Cyclic reversal of magnetization in soft iron (AA), and in the 
same iron when hardened by stretching (bb). 

We have a manifestation of hysteresis whenever a magnetic metal 
has its magnetism clianged in any manner througli changes in the 
magnetizing force, unless indeed the changes are so minute as to be 
confined to what I have called the first stage («, Fig. 1). Eesidual 
magnetism is only a particular case of hi/steresis. 

Hysteresis comes in whatever be the character or cause of the mag- 
netic change, provided it involves such deflections on the part of the 
molecules as make them become unstable. The unstable movements 
are not reversible witli respect to the agent whicli produces them; that 
is to say, they are not simply undone step by step as the agent is 

We know, on quite independent grounds, that wlien the magnetism 
of a piece of iron or steel is reversed, or indeed cyclically altered in any 
way, some work is spent in performing the operation — energy is being 
given to the iron at one stage, and is being recovered from it at another; 
but when the cycle is taken as a whole there is a net loss, or rather a 
waste of energy. It may be shown that this waste is proportional to 


the area of the looj) in our diagrams. This energy is dissipated; that 
is to say, it is scattered and rendered nseh'ss; it takes the form of heat. 
The iron core of a transformer, for instance, which is having its mag- 
netism reversed with every pulsation of the alternating current, tends 
to become hot for this very reason; indeed, the loss of energy which 
happens in it, in consecpience of magnetic hi/sfcresLs, is a serious draw- 
back to the efticiency of alternating-current systems of distributing 
electricity. It is the chief reason why they require much more coal to 
be burnt, for every unit of electricity sold, than direct-current systems 

The molecular theory shows how this waste of energy occurs. When 
the molecule becomes unstable and tumbles violently over, it oscillates 
and sets its neighbors oscillating, until the oscillations are damped 
out by the eddy currents of electricity which they generate in the sur- 
rounding conducting mass. The useful work that can be got from the 
molecule as it falls ov^er islessthan the work that is done in replacing it 
during the return portion of the cycle. This is a simple mechanical 
deduction from the fact that the movement has unstable phases. 

I can not attemjtt, in a single lecture, to do more than glance at 
several places where the molecular theory seems to throw a flood of 
light on obscure and complicated facts, as soon as we recognize that 
the constraint of the molecules is due to their mutual action as mag- 

It has been known since the time of Gilbert that vibration greatly 
facilitates the process of magnectic induction. Let a piece of iron be 
briskly tapped while it lies in the magnetic held, and it is found to take 
up a large addition to its induced magnetism. Indeed, if we examine 
the successive stages of the x>rocess while the iron is kept vibrating by 
being tapped, we find that the first stage {a) has practically disaji- 
peared, and there is a steady and rapid growth of magnetism almost 
from the very first. This is intelligible enough. Vibration sets the 
molecular magnets oscillating, and allows them to break 1 heir primi- 
tive mutnal ties and to res])ond to weak defiecting forces. For asimi- 
lar reason, vibration should tend to reduce the residue of magnetism 
which is left when the magnetizing force is removed, and this, too, 
agrees with the results of observation. 

Perha])s tlie most effective way to sliow tlie iiiHuencc of vil)ration is 
to apply a weak magnetizing force first, before tap])ing. If the force 
is adjusted so that it nearly but notciuite reaches the limit of stage (a), 
a great number of the molecular magnets are, so to speak, hovering on 
the verge of instability, and when the i)iec(' is tapped they go over like 
a house of cards, and magnetism is accpiiied with a rush. Tajjping 
always has some elfect ol'the same kind, ev^Mi though there has been 
no si)ecial adjustment of the Held. 

And other things besides vii)ration will act in r. similar way, ])recii)i- 
tating the break-ui) of mole(;ular groups when tlie ties are already 


strained. Change of temperature will sometimes do it, or the applica- 
tion or change of mechanical strain. Suppose, for instance, that we 
apply pull to an iron wire while it hangs in a weak magnetic lield, by 
making it carry a weight. The first time that we put on the weight, 
the magnetism of the wire at once increases, often very greatly, in con- 
sequence of the action I have just described (Fig. 13). The molecules 
have been on the verge of turning, and the slight strain caused by the 
weight is enough to make them go. Eemove the weight, and there is 
only a comparatively small change in the magnetism, for the greater 
part of the molecular turning that was done when the weight was put 
on is not undone when it is taken off. Re-apply the weight, and you 
find again but little change;, though there are still traces of the kind of 
action which the first application brought about. 
That is to say, there are some groups of molecules 
which, though they were not broken up in the first 
api^lication of the weight, yield now, because they 
have lost the sup])ort they then obtained from neigh- 
bors that have now entered into new combinations, 
indeed, this kind of action may often be traced, al- 
ways diminishing in amount, during several succes- 
sive applications and removals of the load (see Fig. 
13), and it is only when the process of loading has 
been many times repeated that the magnetic change 
brought about by loading is just opposite to the 
magnetic change brought about by unloading. 

Whenever indeed we are observing the effects of 
an alteration of jihysical condition on the magne- 
tism of iron, we have to distinguish between the 
I)rimitive effect, which is often very great and is 
not reversible, and the ultimate effect, which is seen 
only after the molecular structure has become some- 
what settled through many repetitions of the proc- 
ess. Experiments on the effects of temperature, of 
strain, etc., have long ago shown this distinction 
to be exceedingly important; the molecular theory 
makes it perfectly intelligible. 

Further, the theoiy makes i)lain another curious result of experiment. 
When we have loaded and unloaded the iron wire many times over, so 
that theefiect is no longer complicated by the primitive acti<m I have 
just described, we still find that the magnetic changes which occur 
while the load is being put on are not simply undone, step by step, 
while the load is being taken ofi". Let the whole load be divided into 
several parts, and you will see that the magnetism has two different 
values, in going up and in coming down, for one and the same inter- 
mediate value of the load. The changes of magnetism lag behind the 
changes of load; in other words, there is hysteresis in the relation of 

2 160 


Fig. 13.— Effects of load- 
ing a soft iron wire in 
a cons'anr field. 


the magnetism to the load (Fig. 14). This is because some of the molec- 
ular groups are every time being broken up during the loading, and 
re-established during the unloading, and that, as we saw already, in- 
volves hysteresis. Consequently, too, each loading and unloading re- 
quires the expenditure of a small (juantity of energy, which goes to 
heat the metal. 


S 260 

r Inailini: :iii<l iiiili>:i(linir- 

Moreover, a remarkably interesting conclusion ibllows. This hys- 
teresis, and conse(juent dissii)ation of energy, will also hai)pen though 
there be no magnetization of the piece as a whole; it depends on the 
fact that the molecules are magnets. Accordingly, we should expect 
to find, and experiment conflrins this (see Phil. Tram.^ 188;"), j). 014), 
that if tlie wire is loaded and unloaded, even when no magnetic field 
acts and there is no magnetism, its i)hysical qualities which are changed 
by the load will change in a manner involving hysteresis. In i>artic- 
ular, the length will be less for the same load during loading than dur- 
ing unloading, so that woik may be wasted in every cycle of loads. 
There can be no sucli thing as i)erfect elasticity in a magnetizable 
metal, unless, indeed, the raiige of the strain is so very narrow that 
none of the molecules tumble through unstable states. This nuiy have 


something- to do witli tlie fact, well known to engineers, that nnmerons 
repetitions of a straining action, so slight as to be safe enough in itself, 
have a dangerous eflfect on the structni'e of iron or steel. 

Another thing on which the theory throws liglit is the phenomenon 
of time-lag in magnetization. When a piece of iron is put into a 
steady magnetic field, it does not take instantly all the magnetism that 
it will take if time be allowed. There is a gradual creeping up of the 
magnetism, which is most noticeable when the field is weak and when 
the iron is thick. If you will watch the manner in which a group of 
little magnets breaks up when a magnetic force is applied to it, you 
will see that the process is one that takes time. The first molecule to 
yield is some outlying one which is comparatively unattached — as we 
may take the surface molecules in the piece of iron to be. It falls 
over, and then its neighbors, weakened by the loss of its support, fol- 
low suit, and gradually the disturbance propagates itself from molecule 
to molecule throughout the group. In a very thin piece of iron — a fine 
wire, for instance — there are so many surface molecules, in comparison 
with the whole number, and consequently so many points which may 
become origins of disturbance, that the breaking up of the molecular 
communities is too soon over to allow much of this kind of lagging to 
be noticed. 

,w ye 00 

200 300 400 


700' C 

Pig. 15. — Relation of magnetic inductive cai)acity to temperature in liard steel (Hopkin.son). 

Eftects of temperature, again, may be interpreted by help of the 
molecular theory. When iron or nickel or cobalt is heated in a weak 
magnetic field, its susceptibility to magnetic induction is observed to 
increase, until a stage is reached, at a rather high temperature, 
when the magnetic quality vanishes almost suddenly and almost com- 
pletely. Fig. 15, from one of Hopkinson's papers, shows what is ob- 
served as the temperature of a piece of steel is gradually raised. The 
sudden loss of magnetic quality occurs when the metal has become 
red hot; the magnetic quality is recovered when it cools again suffi- 
ciently to cease to glow. Now, as regards the first efiect — the increase 
of susceptibility with increase of temperature — I think that is a con- 
sequence of two independent effects of heating. The structure is ex- 
l)anded so that the molecular centers lie further apart. But the free- 
dom with which the molecules obey the direction of any applied mag- 
netic force is increased not by that only, but perhaps even more by 


tlieir bt'iii,!;' tliiown into vibration. When tlie field i-s weak, heating 
consequently assists magnetization, sometimes very greatly, by has- 
tening tlie passage from stage (( to stage b of the magnetizing process. 
And it is at least a conjecture worth consideration whether tlu^ sudden 
loss of nmgnetic quality at a higher temperature is not due to the vi- 
brations becoming so violent as to set the molecules spinning, when^ 
of course, their polarity would be of no avail to produce magnetiza- 
tion. We know at all events that when the change from the magnetic 
to the non-magnetic state occurs, there is a ]>rofound molecular change, 
and heat is absorbed which is given out again when the reverse change 
takes place. In cooling from a red heat, the iron actually extends at 
the moment when this change takes i)lace (as was shown by Gore), 
and so much heat is given out that (as Barrett observed) it re-glows, 
becoming brightly red, thongh just before the change it had cooled so 
far as to be quite dull. [Experinu'nt, exhibiting retraction and re- 
glow in cooling, shown by means of a long iron wire, heated to redness 
by an electric cnrrent.] The changes which occur in iron and steel 
about the temperature of redness are very complex, and I refer to this 
as only one possible direction in which a key to them may be sought. 
Perhai)S the full explanation belongs as much to chemistry as to physics. 

An interesting illustration of the use of these models has reached 
me, only to-day, from Xew York. In a paper just published in the 
Elect riad World (reprinted in the Ulectric tan for May 29, ISDl), IMr. 
Arthur lloopes supi)orts the theory I have laid before you by giving 
curves which show the connection exi)erimentally found by him 
between the result polarity of a group of little pivoted magnets and 
the strength of the magnetic field, when the field is apidied, removed, 
reversed, and so on. I shall draw these curves on the screen, and 
rough as they are, in consequence of the limited number of magnets, 
you see that they succeed remarkably well m reproducing the features 
Avhich we know the curves for solid iron to ])()ssess. 

It may, perhaps, be fairly claimed tliat the models whose behavior 
we have been considering have a wider application in physics than to 
merely elucidate magnetic i)rocesses. The molecules of bodies may 
have polarity which is not magnetic at all — jxdarity, for instance, due 
to static electrification — under Avhicli they group themselves in stable 
forms, so that energy is dissipated whenever these are broken up and 
re-arrangcd. When we strain a solid body beyond its limit of elasticity, 
we expend work irre<;overab]y in overcoming, as it were, internal fric- 
tion. What is this internal friction due to but the breaking and 
making of molecular ties ? And if internal friction, why not also the 
surface friction which causes work to be si)ent when one body rubs 
upon another. In a highly suggestive passage of one of his writings,* 

* Encijclopmlia Brit., Niuth Ed., 1877, art., " Coustitutiou of Bodies," vol. vi, p. 


Clerk Maxwell threw out the hint that many of the irreversible proc- 
esses of physics are due to the breaking up and re-construction of 
molecular groups. The models help us to realize Maxwell's notion, 
and in studying them to-night, I think we may claim to have been 
going a step or two forward where that great leader i^ointed the way. 


By G. D. LiVEiNG, F. E. S. 

There is something very fascinating about crystals. It is not merely 
the intrinsic beauty of their forms, their picturesque grouping, and 
the phiy of light upon their faces, but there is a feeling of wonder at 
the power of nature, which causes substances, in ])assing from the 
fluid to the solid state, to assume regular shapes bounded by plane 
faces, each substance with its own set of forms, and its faces arranged 
with characteristic symmetry; some, like alum, in perfect octahedra; 
others, like blue vitriol, in shapes winch are regularly oblique. It is 
this power of nature which is the subject of this discourse. I hoi^e to 
show that crystalline forms, with all their regularity and synmietry, 
are the outcome of the accepted princii)les of mechanics. I shall 
invoke no peculiar force, but only such as we are already familiar with 
in other facts of nature. I shall (;all in only the same force that ])ro- 
duces the rise of a liquid in a capillary tube and the surface-tension at 
the boundary of two substances which do not mix. Whether this 
force bo different from gravity I need not stop to inquire, for any 
attractive force which for small masses, such as we sup])ose the mole- 
cules of matter to be, is only sensible at insensible distances is suffi- 
cient for my purpose. 

We know that the external forms of crystals are intimately connected 
with their internal structure. This is betrayed by the cleavages with 
which ill mica and seleuite everybody is familiar, and which extend to 
the minutest parts, as is seen in the tiny rhombs which form the dust 
of cruslicd calcite. It is better marked by the optical properties, single 
and double refraction, and the effects of crystals on polarized light. 
These familiar facts lead up to the thought that it is really the internal 
structure which determines the external form. As a starting-])oint for 
considering that structure, I assume that crystalline matter is made 
up of molexudes, ami tliat, whereas in the fluid state the molecules 
move about amongst themselves, in the solid state they have little 
freedom. They are always Avithin the range of each other's influence- 
and do not change their relative places. Nevertheless, these mole, 
cules are in constant and very rapid motion. Xot only will they com- 
municate heat to colder bodies in contact with them, l)ut they are 

*A discourse delivered at the Roynl Institition of Great Britain on Friday, May 
15, 1891,— From Xature, June 18, 1891; vol. xi,iv, pp. 156-160. 



always radiating, wliicli means producing waves in the aether at the 
rate of many billions in a second. We are sure that they have a great 
deal of energy, and, if they can not move far, they mnst have very 
rapid vibratory motions. It is reasonable to suppose that the parts of 
each molecule swing, backwards and forwards, through, or about, the 
center of mass of the molecule. Tlie average distances to which the 
parts swing will determine the average dimensions of tlie molecule, 
the average space it occupies. 

Dalton fancied he had proved that the atoms of the chemical elements 
must be spherical, because there was no assignable cause why they 
should be longer in one dimension than another. I rather invert his 
argument. I see no reason why the excursions of the i^arts of a mole- 
cule from tlie centre of mass should be equal in all directions, and 
therefore assume, as the most general case, that these excursions are 
unequal in different directions. And, since tlie movements must be 
symmetrical with reference to the centre of mass of the molecule, they 
will in general be included within an ellipsoid, of which the center is 
the centre of mass. 

Here I may [)erhaps guard against a misconception. We chemists 
are familiar with the notion of complex molecules; and most of us 
figure to ourselves a molecule of common salt as consisting of an atom 
of sodium and one of chlorine held together by some sort of force, and 
it may be imagined that these atoms are the parts of the molecules 
which I have in mind. That however is not my notion. I am para- 
doxical enough to disbelieve altogether in the existence of either 
sodium or chlorine in common salt. Were my audience a less philoso- 
phical one I could imagine I heard the retort from many a lip : " Why, 
you can get sodium and chlorine out of it, and you can make it out of 
sodium and chlorine ! " But no, you can not get either sodium or chlorine 
out of common salt without first adding something which seems to me 
of the essence of the matter. You can get neither sodium nor chlorine 
from it without a(hling energy; nor can you make it out of these ele- 
ments without sul)tracting energy. My point is that energy is of the 
essence of the molecule. Each kind of molecule has its own motion; 
and in this I think most physicists will agree with me. Chemists will 
agree with me in thinking that all the molecules of the same element, 
or compound, are alike in mass, and in the space they occupy at a 
given temperature and pressure. The only remaining assumption I 
make is that the form of the ellipsoid — the relative lengths of its axes — 
is on the average the same for all the molecule sof the same substance. 
This implies that the distances of the excursions of the parts of the 
molecule depend on its constitution, and are, on the average, the same 
in similarly constituted molecules under similar circumstances. 

I have come to the end of my postulates. I hope they are such as 
you will readily concede. I want you to conceive of each molecule as 
having its parts in extremely rapid vibration, so that it occupies a 
larger space than it would occupy if its parts were at rest; and that 



the excursions of the ])arts about the center of mass are on the average, 
at a iiiven temperature and pressure, compiised within a certain ellip- 
soid; that the dimensions <»f this ellipsoid are the same i'or all molecules 
of the same chemical constitution, but different for molecules of differ- 
ent kinds. 

We have now to consider how these molecnles will i)ack themselves 
on passing from the lluid state, in which they can and do move about 
amonost themselves, into the solid state, in which they have no sensible 
freedom. If they attract one another, according to any law, and for 
my purpose gravity will suffice, then the laws of energy require that for 
stable equilibrium the potential energy of a system shall be a minimnm. 
This is the same, in the case we are considering, as saying that the 
molecules shall be packed in such a way that the distances l)etwcen 
their centers of mass shall on the whole be the least possible; or, that 
as many of them as possible shall be packed into unit space. In order 
to see how this packing will take place, it will be easiest to consider 
first the particular case in which the axes of the ellipsoids are all 
equal — that is, when tlie ellipsoids happen to be spheres. The prob- 
lem is then reduced to tindiiig how to pack the greatest nuinl)cr of 
equal spherical balls into a given si)ace. It is easy to leduce this to 
the problem of finding how the spheres can be arranged so that each 
one shall be touched by as many others as possil)le. En this way tlie 
cornered si>aces between the balls, the unoccupied room, is reduced to 
a minimum, Vou can stack balls so that each is touched by twelve 
others, but not by more. At first sight it seems as if this might be 
done in two wavs. 


Fio. 1. 

In the first place we may start witli a square of balls, as in Fig. 1, 
where cacli is tonchcd by four others. We nniy then i»l;ice another 
(shaded in the figure) so as to rest ou four, and place four niore in 



adjacent holes to touch it, as indicated by the dotted circles. Above 
these four more may be placed in the openings a b c d, so as to touch 
it — making twelve in all. If the pile be completed, we shall get a 
four-sided pyramid, of which each side is an equilateral triangle, as 

represented in Fig. 2. It will be seen that, in these triangular faces, each 
ball (except,of course, those forming the edges) is touched by six others. 
Again, if we start with such a triangle, as in Fig. 3, where each ball 
is touched by six others, we can place one ball — the shaded one — so as 

Fig. 3. 

to rest on three others, and can then place six more round it and touch- 
ing it, as indicated by the dotted circles. In three of the triangular 
holes between the shaded ball and the dotted balls touching it we can 
place three more, so as to touch the shaded ball— again twelve touch- 



iiif;^ it iu all. If we complete the pile, we shall get tlie triangular 
pyramid represented by Fig. -4, where each of the three sides is a right- 
angled triangle, while the base is an (equilateral triangle. It will be 
seen that in the laces of this pyramid each ball (except those outside) 
is touched by four others. In fact, the arrangement in these faces is 
the same as in the base of the former pyramid; and the two arrange- 
ments are really identical in the interior, only one has to be turned 
over in order to bring it into parallelism with the other. Fig. '2 rep- 
resents half a regular octahedron; Fig 4 the corner of a cube. Elli})- 
soids if they are all equal and similiar to one another can be i)acked 
in precisely the same way, so that each is touched by twelve others, 
l)rovided their axes are kept j)arallel to each other — that is, if they 
are all oriented alike. This, then, by the laws of energy, will be the 
arrangement which the molecules will assume in consequence of mutual 
attraction, in i»assing from a fluid to a solid state. 

^ext, let us see how the packing of the molecules will affect the ex- 
ternal form. And here I bring in the surface tension. We are famil- 
iar with the eflects of this force in the ease of liquids, and if we adopt 
the usually received theory of it, we must have a surface tension at the 
boundary of a solid, as well as at the surface of a li([uid, [ know of 
no actual measures of the surface tension of solids; but (»),uincke has 
given us the surface tensions of a number of substances at temiieratures 
near tlicir points of soliditication, in dynes per lineal centimeter, as 

Platimiiii (il.S 

fi.)](l 983 

ZiiK- 800 

Till 587 

Mercury 577 

Lead 448 

Antimony 244 

Borax 2^2 

.Sodiiiiu carlionatc 20(! 

Sodium chloric Ic 114 

Water Sd. 2 

Selenium 70. I 

Silver 419 ; Sulphur 41.;} 

IJisnmth 382 1 rhosi)horns 41.1 

Potassium 364 Wax 33. 4 

Sodium 253 [ 

The surface tensions of most of the solids are probably greater than 
these, for the surface tension generally diminishes witli increase of 
temperature: and you see that they amount to very considerable Ibrces. 
II. Mis. 114^ 18, 


We have to do, tneii, with an agency which we can not neglect In all 
these cases the tension measnred is at a surface bounded by air, and is 
such as tends to contract the surface. We have, then, at the boundary 
between a crystallizing solid and the fluid, be it gas or liquid, out of 
which it is solidifying, a certain amount of potential energy; and by 
the laws of energy the condition of equilibrium is, that this potential 
energy shall be a minimum. The accepted theory of surface tension is 
that it arises from the mutual attraction of the molecules. The energy 
will, therefore, be a minimum for a surface in which the molecules are 
as closely set as possible. 

Kow, if you draw a surface through a heajj of balls packed so that 
each is touched by twelve others, you will find that the surfaces 
which have the greatest number of centers of balls per unit area are 
all plane surfaces. That in which the concentration is greatest is the 
surface of a regular octahedron, next come that of a cube, then that of 
a rhombic dodecahedron, and so on according to the law of indices of 
crystallographers. The relative numerical values of these concentra- 
tions are as follows, taking that of the faces of the cube as unity: 

Octahedron 1. 1547 | Tetrakishexaliedron 0. 4472 

Cube 1. 0000 Eikositessarahedrou 0. 4083 

Dodecahedron 0. 7071 1 Triakisoctahedron 0. 3333 

We do know that the surface tension is exactly in the inverse pro- 
portion to the concentration ; all that we can at present say is that it 
increases as the concentration diminishes. 

If, then, the molecules occupy spherical spaces, the bounding sur- 
face will tend to be a regular octahedron. 

But we have another point to consider. If a solid is bounded by 
plane surfaces, there must be edges where the planes meet. At such 
an edge the surfjice tensions will have a resulr.ant (see Fig. 5) tending 
to compress the mass, which must be met by a corresponding opposite 
l)ressure, and unless there is some internal strain there must be a cor- 
respondent resultant of the tensions on the opposite side of the crystal. 
Hence, if one face of a form is developed the opposite face will also be 
developed -, and generally, if one face of a form be developed all the 


faces will be developed; nud if one edge, or angle, be truncated, all the 
correspond iiig edges, or angles, will be truncated. Were it otherwise, 
there would not be a balance between the surface tensions in the sev- 
eral faces. But there is another point to be taken into account. The 
surface energy may become less in two ways — either by reducing the 
tension per unit surface, or by reducing the total surface. When a 
li(piid separates from another fluid, as chloroform from a sohition of 
chloral hydrate on adding an alkali, or a cloud from moist air, the 
liquid assumes the form which, for a given mass, has the least surface — 
that is, the drops are spherical. If you cut off the i)roJ('cting corners 
ami plane away tlie projecting edges of a cube or an octahedron, you 
bring it nearer to a si)here, and if you suppose the volume to remain 
constant, you still diminisli the surface. And if the diminution of the 
total surface is not comi)ensated by the increased energy on the trunca- 
tions, there will be a tendency for the crystals to grow Avith such 
truncations. The like will be true in more complicated combinations. 
There will be a tendency for sucli combinations to foi'm, provided the 
surface energy of the new faces is not too great as compared with that 
of the first simple form. 

But it does not always happen that an octahedron of alum develops 
truncated angles. This leads to another point. To produce a surface 
in a continuous mass requires a supply of energy, and to generate a 
surface in the interior of any fluid is Jiot easy. Air maybe super-satu- 
rated with aijueous vapor, or a solution with a salt, and no cloud or 
crystals be formed, unless tiiere is some discontinuity in the mass, 
specks of dust, or something of the kind. In like manner, if we have 
a surface already, as wlieu a supersaturated solution meets tlie air or 
the sides of the vessel containing it, and if the energy of either of these 
surfaces is less than that of a crystal of the salt, some energy will have 
to be supplied in onler to produce the new surfa(;e, but not so much as 
if there were no surface there to begin with. Hence, crystals usually 
form on tlu^ sides of tlie vessel or at the toj) of the liquid. When a solid 
sei>arates from a solution there is gencMally some energy available from 
the changi; of state, Avhich su])plies the energy lor the new surface. 
But at tirst when the mass deposited is very small, the energy 
available will be correspondingly small, and since the mass varies as 
the cube of the dianu^ter of the solid, whereas the surface varies as 
the square of the diameter, tlie flrst separated mass is liable to be 
squeezed into liquid again by its own surface tension. This explains 
the usual phenomena of sui)er-saturated solutions. A deposit occurs 
most easily ou a surface of the same energy as that of the deposit, 
because the additiomil energy reipiired is only for the increased extent 
of surface. It ex])lains, too, the tendency of large crystals to grow 
more rapidly than small ones, because the ratio of the increase of 
surface to that of voluiiu' diminishes as the crystal grows. 

While speaking of the difficulty of creating a new surface in the in- 


terior of a mass, the question of cleavage suggests itself. In dividing 
a crystal we create two new surfaces — one on each piece, and each with 
its own energy. Tlie division nuist tlierefore take place most readily 
when that surface energy is a minimum. Hence the jmncipal cleavage 
of a crystal made up of molecules having their motions comprised within 
spherical spaces will be octahedral. As a fact, we tind that the greater 
part of substances which crystallize in the octahedral, or regular sys- 
tem, have octahedral cleavage. But not all; there are some, like rock 
salt and galena, which cleave into cubes, and a very few, like blende? 
have their easiest cleavage dodecahedral. These I have to explain. I 
may however first observe that some substances — as, for instance, 
fluor-spar — which have a very distinct octahedral cleavage are rarely 
met with in the form of octahedra, bnt usually in cubes. In regard to 
this, we must remember that the surface energy depends upon the 
nature of both the substances in contact at the surface, as well as on 
their electrical condition, their temperature, and other circumstances. 
The closeness of the molecules in the surface of the solid determines the 
energy, so far as the solid alone is concerned; but that is not the only 
— though it may be the most important — factor conducing to the result 
It is therefore quite possible that, under the circumstances in which 
the natural crystals of fluor were formed, the surface energy of the 
cubical faces was less than that of the octahedral, although when we 
experiment on tliem in the air, it is the other way. This supposition 
is confirmed by the well-known fact that the form assumed by many 
salts in crystallizing is affected by the character of the solution. Thus 
alum, which from a. solution in pure water always assumes the octa- 
hedral form, takes the cubic form when the solution has been neutra- 
lized with potash. 

To return to the cubic and dodecahedral cleavages. If we suppose 
the excursions of the jiarts of the molecule to be greater in one direc- 
tion than in the others, the figure within which the molecule is comprised 
will be a prolate spheroid ; if less, an oblate spheroid. Now, as already 
explained, the .spheroids will be packed as closely as jiossible if the axes 
are all paralled and each is touched by twelve others. Xow suppose 
the spheroids arranged as in Fig. 0, with their axes perpendicular to 

Fig. 6. 

the plane of the figure; place the next layer in the black triangular 
spaces, and complete the pyramid. The three faces of the pyramid 


will be equal isoscles trani;i('s; and if the spheroids be oblate, and the 
axis halt the liieatest diameter, the tliree angles at the apex of the pyra- 
mid will be right angles. The erystal will Inive ^ubie syninietry. but the 
relative eondensation in the faees of the cube, octahedron, and dodeca- 
hedron, will be as i -.{)%)" A -A)-! oil. Tlie easiest cleavage would there- 
fore be cubic, as in lock salt and galena. 

Again, if the spheroids ha\'c their axes and greatest diameters in the 
ratio of 1 : -/-. iii'<^l ^ve i)lacefour, as in Fig. 7, with their axes perpen- 

Fic. 7- 

dicular to the plain' of the figure, then place one upon tliem in the 
middle, and then four more ui)on it, in positions corresponding to those 
of the first four, we get a cubical arrangement, the center of a spheroid 
in each angle of a cube, and one in the center of the cube. Crystals 
so formed will have cubic symmetry, but the concentration of molecules 
will be greatest in the faces of the dodecahedron, and their easiest 
cleavage will be, like that of blende, dodecahedral. 

If spheroids of any other dimensions be arranged, as in Figs. 1 and 
2, with their axes perpendicular to the plane of Fig. 1, we shall get a 
crj'stal with the symmetry of the pyramidal system. If the sjdieroids 
be prolate, the fundamental octahedron will be elongated in the direc- 
tion of the axis, and if sufficiently elongated, the greatest condensation 
will be in planes perpendicular to the axis, and the easiest cleavage, as 
in pi'ussiate of i)otash, in tliose planes. On the other hand, if the 
spheroids ])e sufticiently oblate, the easiest cleavage will be parallel to 
the axis. 

If spheroids be arranged, as in Fig. (!, with their axes ])erpendicular 
to th(^ i)lane of the figure, they will, in general, ])rodnc(^ rhombohedral 
symmetry, with the rhombs acnte or obtuse, according to the length 
or shortness of the axes of the spheroids. The cubical form already 
described is oidy a particular case of the rhombohedral. If the ratio 
between the axis of the spheroids and their greatest diameters beonly 
a little greater or a little less than 1 : 2, tlie condensation will be great- 
est in the faces of the rhombohedron, and the easiest cleavage will be 
rhombohedral, as in calcite. if the spheroids be prolate, the easiest 
cleavage will l)e ])erpendicnlar to tlie axis of symmetry, as in beryl and 
many other crystals. Such crystals have a tendency to assume hex- 
agonal forms — e([uiangular six-sided prisms and pyramids. To explain 
this, it may be seen in Fig, (5 that, in i)lacing- the next layer Tii)on the 
spheroids represented in the figure, the three spheroids which touch that 
marked a may oc<rui)y eithei- tlie three adjacent white tiiangles or the 
three black ones. Either position is ci^ually probable. The layer oc- 


cupying the wliite triangles is iu the position of a twin to that occupy- 
ing the black triangles. So far as the central parts of the layer are 
concerned, it will make no difference in which of these ways the mole- 
cules are packed. It is only at the edges that the surface tension will 
be affected. If the form growing be a rhombohedron, a succession of 
alternating twins will produce a series of alternating ridges and fur- 
rows in the rhombohedral faces, which will give rise to increased sur- 
face tension, which will tend to i^revent the twinning. On the other 
hand, a hexagonal form and its twin, formed in the way indicated, are 
identical, and we have in this faet a cause tending to the production of 
hexagonal forms. This tendency is increased by the fact that, for a 
given volume, the total surface of the hexagonal forms is in general 
less than that of the rhombohedral. Indeed, such forms lend them' 
selves to the formation of almost globular crystals, as is well seen in 
pyromorphite and mimetite. 

If the spheroids be arranged with their axes in other positions than 
those we have been discussing, or if the molecules occupy ellipsoidal 
spaces, they will, when packed so that each is touched by twelve oth- 
ers, give figures of less symmetry. The results may be worked out on 
the lines indicated in the foregoing discussion, and will be found to 
correspond throughout to the observed facts. 

Bravais long ago proposed various arrangements of nudecules to 
account for crystalline forms, and Sohncke has extended them to 
further degrees of complication in order to account for additional facts 
in crystallography. But neither of them has given any reason why 
the molecules should assume such arrangements. To me it seems that 
only one arrangement can be spontaneously assumed by the molecules, 
and that the varieties of crystalline form depend on the dimensions of 
the ellipsoids and the orientation of their axes. Curie also has indi- 
cated that the development of combined forms, as those of cube and 
octahedron, will depend on the surface tensions in the faces of these 
forms, but he has not indicated how the surface tension is connected 
with the crystalline arrangement, or why the energy of a^ cubic face 
should be greater or less than that of an octahedral face. 

We are now in a position to understand the interesting facts brought 
forward by Prof. Judd in a discourse delivered at the Eoyal Institution 
early this year. However long a crystal has been out of the solution 
or vapor from which it was formed, its gurface tension will remain 
unaltered, and when it is replaced it Avill grow exactly as if it had not 
been removed. Also, if any part be broken off it, the tension of the 
broken surface will, if it be not a cleavage face, be greater than on a 
face of the crystal, and in growing, the laws of energy necessarily cause 
it to grow in such a way as to reduce the potential energy — that is, to 
replace the broken surface by the regular planes of less surface energy. 
The formation of "negative crystals" by fusing a portion in the interior 
of a crystalline mass is due to the same principle. Surfaces of least 


energy will be most easily produced inside as well as outside, and in a 
crystalline mass of course they will be parallel to the external faces of 
the crystal. We see the same thing in the action of solvents. Most 
metals assume a crystalline texture on cooling- from fusion, and when 
slowly acted on by dilute acids the surfaces of greater energy are most 
easily attacked, in accordance with the laws of energy, and the uiulis- 
solved metal is left with surfa(;es of least energy which are the faces of 
crystals. This is easily seen on treating a piece of tin plate or of gal- 
vanized iron with very dilute a(iua regia. In fact, solution is closely 
connected with surface energy. It is probably the low surface energy 
of one form of crystals of sulphur which makes them insoluble in car- 
bon disulphide, and this low" surface energy may be an electrical effect. 
I pointed out that the develoi)m('nt of all the faces of a form and the 
similar moditicationof all corresponding edges and angles of a crystal are 
in general necessary in order to juoducc equilibrium under the surface 
tensions. But avc sometimes lind crystals with only half the modilica- 
tions required for symmetry. In such cases the surface tensions nnist 
l)roduce a stress in the interior tending to deform the molecules. When 
the ciystal was growing there must have been equilibrium, and there- 
fore a pressure equal and op])osite to this effect of the surface tension. 
There are various ways iu which we nuiy sui)pose that such a force 
would arise. The electric field might give rise to a stress in op})osition 
to the aggregati<m of the molecules in the closest possible way, and 
then the crystal would grow such faces as would produce an equal and 
opi)osite stress. Inequalities of temperature or the presence of mole- 
cules of other kinds amongst those of the crystal might produce similar 
results. When the stress due to electricity or to temperature was 
removed by change of circumstances, that due to the surface tensions 
would pL'rsist, and the crystal would be left with an internal strain. 
Crystals of this .sort, with unsymmetric faces, generally betray the 
internal strain either by developing electricity of oi)posite kinds at the 
two ends when heated or cooled, or they affect polarized light, rotat- 
ing the plane of polarization. That these effects are due to the internal 
strain is shown l>v the fact that tourmalines and other ciystals which 
are pyro-electric when unsymmetrical sbownosu(;h i)roperty when sym- 
metrically grown. Also sodium chlorafe in solution, (piartz w hen fused, 
and so on, lose theii' rotatory power. Substances which in solution show 
rotatory power as a rule de\'clop unsymmetric crystals. This is well 
seen in the tartrates. The constitution of the molecules must l)e such 
that they will not with(»ut some strain form crystals; and e(iuilil)rium 
when t])e crystal is growing is attained by means of theoi)])osing stress 
due to want of syinmetiy in the surf;;ce tensions. In all such crystals 
the rotatory i)ower of the solution <lisai)])ears in whole or in part. We 
can not test this in biaxial crystals, l)ut, according to Dcs (Moiseaux, 
suli)hate of strychnine is the onl.\' substance which shows rotation both 
iu the solution and in the crystalline form, and in it the rotatory power 


is miicli increased by the crystallizutiou. Eft'ects comparable with these 
may be produced by mechauical means, A cube of rock salt, which 
has no efi'ect on plane-polarized light in its ordinary state, changes the 
plane of polarization when it is compi-essed in a vise. And a cleavage 
slice of jDrussiate of potash, which is uniaxial, may by compression be 
distorted so as to gi^'e in a convergent beam of polarized light elliptical 
rings and two eyes like a biaxial crystal. 


By Prof, John W. Jidd, F. M. S, 

Very soon after tlie invention of tlie niicrosoo])e tlie value of that in 
strnuieiit in investigating tlie i)lieiionu'na of crystallization began to be 

The study of crystal morphology and crystallo-genesis was initiated 
in this country by the observations of Robert Boyle; and siuee his day 
a host of investigators — among whom may be especially mentioned 
Leenwenhoek and Vogelsang in Holland, Link and Frankenheim in 
Germany, and Pasteur and kSeuarmont in France — have added largely 
to our knowledge of the origin and development of crystalline struc- 
tures. Nor can it be said with justice that this field of investigation, 
opened up by English pioneers, has been ignobly abandoned to others, 
for the credit of British science has been fully maintained by the nu- 
merous and brilliant discoveries in this department of knowledge by 
Brewster and Sorby. 

There is no branch of science which is more dependent for its prog- 
ress on a knowledge of the phenomena of crystallization than geology. 
In seeking to explain tlie complicated phenomena exhibited by the crys- 
talline masses composing the earth's (;rust, the geologist is constantly 
compelled to appeal to the physicist and chemist; from them alone can 
he hope to obtain tht; light of experiment and the leading of analogy 
wher(?by he may hope to solve the ])rol)lems which confront him. 

J>ut if geology owes much to the researches of those physicists and 
chemists who have devoted their studies to the i)li('nomena of crystalli- 
zation, the debt has been more than re[)ai(l through the new light 
which has been thrown on these (questions by the in\-estigations of nat- 
urally formed crystals by mineralogists and geologists. 

In no class of physical oi»erations is time such an important factor as 
in crystallization, and Xature, in in'oducing her inimitable exam]>les of 
crystalline bodies, has been unsi)aring in her expenditure of time. 
Hence it is not surprising to find that some of the most wonderful i)he- 
nomeua of crystallization can best be studied — some indeed can only 
be studied — in those exquisite specimens of Nature's handiwork which 

*Tlie Friday evening discourse, delivereil at tlie Koyal Institution on January 30, 
1891. (From Xafiire, Mav28, 1891; vol. xi.n', i)p. 83-8(3.) 



have been slowly elaborated by her during periods which must be 
measured in millions of years. 

I propose to-night to direct your attention to a very curious case in 
which a strikingly complicated group of phenomena is presented in a 
crystalline mass, and these phenomena, which have been revealed to 
the student of natural crystals, are of such a kind that we can scarcely 
hope to re -produce them in our test-tubes and crucibles. 

But if we can not expect to imitate all the effects which have in this 
case been slowly wrought out in Nature's laboratory, we can at least 
investigate and analyze them, and, in this way, it may be possible to 
show that phenomena like those in qTiestion must result from the pos- 
session by crystals of certain deflTute properties. Each of these prop- 
erties, we shall see, may be severally illustrated and experimentally in- 
vestigated, not only in natural products, but in the artificially formed 
crystals of our laboratories. 

In order to lead up to the explanation of the curious phenomena ex- 
hibited by the rock-mass in question, the first property of crystals to 
which I have to refer may be enunciated as follows: 

Crystals i)ossess the power of resuming their growth after interrup- 
tion, and there appears to be no limit to the time after which this re- 
sumption of growth may take place. 

It is a iamiliar ol)servation that if a crystal be taken from a solution 
and put aside it will, if restored after a longer or shorter interval to the 
same or a similar solution, continue to increase as before. But geology 
affords innumerable instances in which this renewal of growth in crys- 
tals has taken place after millions of years must have elapsed. Still 
more curious is the fact, of which abundant proof can be given, that a 
crystal formed by one method may, after a prolonged interval, continue 
its growth under totally different conditions and by a very different 
method. Thus, crystals of (quartz, which have clearly been formed in a 
molten magma and certain inclosures of glass, may continue their 
growth when brought in contact with solutions of silica at ordinary 
temperatures. In the same way, crystals of feldspar, which have been 
formed in a mass of incandescent lava, may increase in size when sol- 
vent agents bring to them the necessary materials from an enveloping 
mass of glass, even after the whole mass has become cold and solid. 

It is this power of resuming growth after interrnption which leads 
to the formation of zoned crystals, like the fine specimen of amethyst 
nclosed in colorless quartz, which was presented to the Eoyal Institu- 
tion seventy years ago by Mr. Snodgrass. 

The groAvth of crystals, like that of plants and animals, is determined 
by their environment, the chief conditions affecting tlieir development 
being temperature, rate of growth, the supply of materials (which may 
vary in quality as well as in quantity), and the presence of certain 
foreign bodies. 

It is a very curious circumstance that the form assumed by a crystal 


may be eoinplctely altered by tlie ]>reseiicc of inluiitesinuil traces of 
certain foreign substances — foreign sitbstauces, be it remarked, wliicli 
do not enter in any way into tlie conipositioii of the crystallizing mass. 
Thus there are certain crystals which can only be formed in the pres- 
ence of water, fluorides, or other salts. Such foreign bodies, which 
exercise an influence on a crystallizing substance without entering 
into its composition, have been called by the French geologists "miner- 
alizers." Their action seems to curiously resemble that of diastase 
and of the bodies known to chemists as "ferments," so many of which 
are now proved to be of organic origin. 

Studied according to their mode of fornmti<m, zoned crystals fall 
naturally into several difl'erent classes. 

In the first place, we have the cases in which the successive shells 
or zones ditter only in color or some other accidental character. Some- 
tinu's such ditterently colored shells of the crystal are sharply cut off 
from one another, while in other instances they graduate impercei)tibly 
one into the other. 

A secoml class of zoned crystals includes those in which we find 
clear evidence that there have been pauses, or at all events changes 
in the rate of their growth. The interruption in growth nuiy be indi- 
cated in several difterent ways. One of the commonest of these is the 
formation of cavities filled with gaseous, liquid, or vitreous material, 
according to the way the crystal has been formed, by volatilization, 
by solution, or by fusion, the production of these cavities indicating 
lapid or irregular growth. ISTot unfrequently is it clear that the 
crystal, after growing to a certain size, has been corroded or partially 
resorbed in the mass in whi(;h it is being formed, before its increase 
was resumed. In other cases, a pause in the growth of the crystal is 
indicated by the formation of minute foreign crystals or the depo- 
sition of uncrystallized material along certain zonal planes in the 

Some very intei-esting varieties of minerals, like the C'otterite of 
Ireland, the red <|uartz of Cumberland, and the spotted amethyst 
of Lake Sui)erior, can be shown to owe their i)eculiarities to thin bands 
of foreign matter zonally included in tliem during theii- giowth. 

A curious class of zoned crystals arises wlien there is a change in 
the habit of the crystal during its growth. Thus, as Levalle showed 
in IS'A {Bull. Gt-ol. Hoc. Paris, 2""\ ser., vol. Yiii, pp. G10-i;>), if an 
octahedron of alum be allowed to grow to a certain size in a solution 
of that substance, and then a (|nantity of alkaline carbonate be added 
to the liquid, the octaliedral crystal, without change in the length of 
its axes, will be gradually transformed into a cube. In the same way, 
a sealenohedrou of calcitc maybi' found inclosed in a prismatic crystal 
of the same mineral, the lengths of the vertical axes being the same in 
both crystals. 

By far the most numerous and iiiq)i)rtant class of zoned crystals is 


that which includes the forms where the successive zoues are of differ- 
ent, though analogous, chemical composition. In the case of the alums 
and garnets, we may have various isomorphous compounds forming 
the successive zones in the same crystal; while, in substances crystal- 
lizing in other systems than the cubic, we hnd plesiomorphous com- 
pounds forming the different inclosing shells. 

Such cases are illustrated by many artificial crystals aud by the 
tourmalines, the epidotes, and the feldspars among minerals. The zones, 
consisting of different materials, are sometimes separated by well 
marked planes, but in other cases they shade imperceptibly into one 

In connection with this subject it may be well to point out that 
zoned crystals may be formed of two substances which do not crystal- 
lize in the same system. Tlius, crystals of the monoclinic augite may 
be found surrounded by a zone of the rhombic enstatite and crystals 
of a triclinic felspar may be fouiul enlarged by a monoclinic feldspar. 

Still more curious is the fact that, where there is a similarity in crys- 
talline form and an approximation in the dominant angles (plesiomor- 
phisni), we may have zoning and intergrowth in the crystals of sub- 
stances which possess no chemical analogy whatever. Thus, as Senar- 
mont showed in 1856, a cleavage-rhomb of the uatural calcic carbonate 
(calcite), when placed in a solution of the sodic nitrate, becomes en- 
veloped in a zone of this latter substance, and Tschermak has proved 
that the compound crystal thus formed behaves like a homogeneous 
one, if tested by its cleavage, by its susceptibility to twin lamellation, 
or by the figures produced by etching. In the same way, zircons, which 
are composed of the two oxides of silicon aiul zirconium, are found 
grown in composite crystals with xenotime, a phosphate of the metals 
of the cerium and yttrium groups. 

These facts, and many similar ones wliich might be adduced, point 
to the conclusion that the beautiful theory of isomorphism, as originally 
propounded by Mitscherlich, stands in need of much revision as to many 
important details, if not indeed of complete reconstruction, in the light 
of modern observation and experiment. 

The second property of crystals to which I must direct your attention 
is the following: 

If a crystal be broken or nuitilated in any way whatever, it possesses 
the power of repairing its injnries during subsequent growth. 

As long ago as 1830, Frankenheim showed that, if a drop of a sat- 
urated solution be allowed to evaporate on the stage of a microscope, 
the following interesting observations may be made upon the growing 
crystals. When they are broken up by a rod, eacli fragment tends to re- 
form as a perfect crystal; and if the crystals be cansed to be partially 
re-dissolved by the addition of a minute drop of the mother liquor, 
further exaporation causes them to resume their original development 
{Pogg. Ann., 1830, Bd. xxxvii). 


III 1S42, Hennaiiii Jordan sliowed that crystals taken from a sohitiou 
and nintilatctl uradually IxH-anie repaired or healed when rei»laee(l in 
the solution (MiiUrr Arrhir. fiir 1842, pp. 40-.j(!). rFordan's observa- 
tions, which were published in a medical journal, do not however seem 
to have attracted much attention from the ]>hysicists and ciieinists of 
the day. 

Lavalle, between the years l.S.K) und IS.jS,* and Kop]), in the year 
185.^, made a number of valuable observations bearing' on tliis interest- 
iuii' pr()i)erty of crystals ( Liebig Ann., 1855, XCIV., pp. 118-25). In ^S'^i} 
the subject was more thoroug-hly studied by three investigators who 
])nblished their results almost simnltaneously; these were ^rarbach 
{('oinpt. rcnd.^ 185G, XLiir, pp. 7(»5-7(>(;, 8(H)-8()2), Pasteur {ib'uL, pp. 795- 
800), and Senarmont (/7>/^/., p. 7!)!)). They showed that crystals, taken 
from a solution and mutilated in various ways, upon being- restored to 
the liquid became comi)letely repaired during subsequent growth. 

As long ago as 1851, Lavalle had asserted that, when one solid angle 
of au octaliedrou of alum is removed, the crystal tends to reproduce 
the same mutilation on the oi)posite angle when its growth is resumed! 
This remarkable and anomalous result has however by some subse- 
quent writers been exi)lained in another way to that suggested by the 
author of the experiment. 

In the same way the curious experiments performed at a subsequent 
date by Karl von Ilauer, ex])eriments which led him to conclude that 
hemihedrism and other peculiarities in crystal growth might be induced 
by mutilation,! have been asserted by other physicists and chemists 
not to Justify the startling conclusions drawn from them at the time. 
It must be admitted that new experiments bearing on this interesting 
(pu'stion are at the present time greatly needed. 

In 1881, Loir demonstrated two very important facts with reg'ard to 
growing crystals of alum {(Jonipf. rend., lid. xcii, p. ll()(>). First, that 
if the iujuries in such a crystal be not too deep, it does not resume 
growth over its general surface until those injuries hav'ebeen repaired. 
Secondly, that the injured surfaces of crystals groAV more rapidly than 
natural faces. This was proved by placing artificially cut octahedra 
and natural crystals of the same size in a solution and comparing their 
weight after a certain time had elapsed. 

The important results of this capacity of crystals for undergoing- 
healing and enlargement and their ap})lication to the explanation of 
interesting geological phcnoincna have been pointcMl out by many au- 

*BnU. (iM. Soc. Parin, 2^i'' sor., vol. \iii, pp. (510-18. IH")! ; Moii^iio, Cosmos, ii, 1K5;^, 
pp. 451-56 ; CoDipl. retid., xxxvi., 1853, pp. ■19.3-i)5. 

\Wien, Sifz. Her., xxxix., 1860, ]ip. 611-22; Erdiiiaiin, Joiini. prakl. Clicm., i.xxxi. 
pp. 356-62; jrieii, (!col. VcrhnndL, xii. pp. 212-13, etc. ; Fraukenhciin, /'o////. Ann., cxiii, 
1861. Compare Fr. Scbarff, Poem. Ann., cix, 1860, pp. .529-38; Nvnvs Jahrb. fiir Min., 
etc., 1876, p. 24; and W. Sanber, Licbi;/ Ann., cxxiv., 1862, pp. 78-82; also W. Ostwald. 
"Eelubnch d. Alli;. Chem.," 1885, Bd. I, p. 738, and O. Lebmaun, "Molckiilar I'hy- 
sik," 1888, I'.(l.i.p.312. 


thors. Sorby lias sliown that, iu the so-called crystalline sand gfrains, 
we have broken and worn crystals of quartz, which, after many vicis- 
situdes and the lapse of millions of years, have grown again and been 
enveloped in a newly formed quartz crystal. Bonney has shown how 
the same phenomena are exhibited in the case of mica, Becke and 
Whitman Cross in the case of hornblende, and Merrill in the c-ise of 
augite. In the feldsi)ars of certain rocks it has been proved that crystals 
that have been rounded, cracked, corroded, and internally altered — 
which have, in short, suffered both mechanical and chemical injuries — 
may be repaired and enlarged with material that differs considerably 
in chemical composition from the original crystal. 

It is impossible to avoid a comparison between these phenomena of 
the inorganic world and those so familiar to tlie biologist. It is only 
iu the lowest forms of animal life that we find an unlimited jwwer of 
repairing injuries: in the lihizopods and some other groups a small 
fragment may grow into a perfect organism. In plants the same phe- 
nomenon is exhibited much more commonly, and in forms belonging to 
groups high up in the vegetable series. Thus, parts of a plant, such 
as buds, bulbs, slips, and grafts, may — sometimes after a long inter- 
val — be made to grow up into new and perfect individuals. But in 
the mineral kingdom we find the same principle carried to a much 
further extent. We know in fact no limit to the minuteness of frag- 
ments which may, under favourable conditions, grow into i^erfect crys- 
tals, no bounds as to the time during which the crystalline growth 
may be suspended in the case of any particular individual. 

The next proj)erty of crystals which I must illustrate, in order to 
explain the i)articular case to which I am calling your attention to 
night, is the following: 

Two crystals of totally different substances may be developed within 
the space bounded by certain planes, becoming almost inextricably 
inter-grow^n, though each retains its distinct individuality. 

This property is a consequence of the fact that the substance of a 
crystal is not necessarily continuous within the space inclosed by its 
bounding planes. Crystals often exhibit cavities filled with air and 
other foreign substances. In the calcite crystals found in the Fon- 
tainebleau sandstone, less than 40 per cent of their mass consists of 
calcic carbonate, while more than (>0 per cent is made up of grains of 
quartz sand, caught uj) during .vystallization. 

In the rock called "graphic granite," we have the minerals orthoclase 
and quartz intergrown in such a way that the more or less isolated 
parts of each can be shown, by their optical characters, to be parts of 
great mutually interpenetrant crystals. Similar relations are shown in 
the so-called micrographic or micro-pegmatic intergrowths of the same 
minerals which are so beautifully exhibited in the rock under our con- 
sideration this evening. 

There is still another property of crystals that must be kept in 


mind if we would explain tlie phenomena exhibited by this interest- 
ing rock : 

A crystal may undergo the most profound internal changes, and 
these may lead to great modifications of the optical and otlicr i>hys- 
ical i)rop(ntics of the mineral ; yet, so long as a small — often a very 
small — proportion of its molecules remain intact, the crystal may re- 
tain, not only its outward form, but its capacity for growing and re- 
pairing injuries. 

Crystals, like ourselves, grow old. Not only do they suffer from ex- 
ternal injuries, mechanical fractures, and chemical corrosion, but from 
actions wliich affect the whole of their internal structure. Under the 
influence of the great inessures in the earth's crust, the minerals of 
deep-seated rocks are completely permeated by fluids whicli cliemically 
react upon them. In this way, negative crystals are formed in their 
substance (similar to the beautiful '' ice-flowers" which are formed when 
a block of ice is traversed by a beam from the sun or an electric lamj)), 
and these become filled with secondary products. As the result of this 
action, minerals, once perfectly clear and translucent, have acquired 
cloudy, opalescent, iridescent, avanturine, and "schiller" characters; 
and minerals, thus modified, abounded in the rocks that have at any 
period of tlieir history been deep-seated. As the destruction of their 
internal structure goes on, the crystals gradually lose more and more 
of their distinctive optical and their physical properties, retaining how- 
ever their external form, till at last, when the last of the original 
molecules is transformed or replaced by others, they pass into those 
mineral corpses known to us as "pseudoniorphs." 

But while crystals resemble ourselves in "growing old," and, at last, 
undergoing dissolution, tliey exhibit the remarkable power of growing- 
young again, which we, alas! never do. This is in consequence of the 
following remarkable attribute of crystalline structures. 

It does not matter how far internal change and disintegration may 
have gone on in a crystal; if only a certain small ])roportion of the 
unaltered molecules lemain, the crystal may renew its ycmth and re- 
sume its growth. 

When old and much altered crystals begin to grow again, the newly 
formed material exhibits none of those marks of "senility'' to whicli I 
have refeired. The sand grains that have been battered and worn into 
microscopic pebbles and have been rendered cloudy by the development 
of millions of secondary fluid cavities may have clear and fresh (piartz 
deposited upon them to form crystals with exquisitely perfect faces 
and angles. The white, (jlouded, and altered felds]»ar crystals nuiy be 
enveloped by a zone of clear and transparent material, which has been 
added millions of years after the first formation and the snbseiiuent 
alteration of the original crystal. 

We are now in jiosition to explain the ])articnlar case which I have 
thought of sufficient interest to claim your attention to-night. 


In tlie Island of Mull, in the Inner Hebrides, there exist masses of 
granite of Tertiary age, whick are of very great interest to the geol- 
ogist and mineralogist. In many places this granite exhibits beau- 
tiful illustrations of the curious inter- growths of quartz and feldspar, of 
which I have already spoken. Such parts of the rock often abound 
with cavities (druses), which I believe are not of original, but of sec 
ondary origin. At all events, it can be shown that these cavities have 
been localities in which crystal growth has gone on; they constitute in- 
deed veritable laboratories of synthetic mineralogy. 

Now, in such cavities the inter-penetrantcrystals of quartz and feldspar 
in this rock have found a space where they may grow and complete their 
outward form; and it is curious to see how sometimes the quartz has 
prevailed over the feldspar and a pure quartz crystal has been produced, 
while at other times the opposite effect has resulted and a pure feldspar 
individual has grown up. In these last cases, however much the orig- 
inal feldspar may have been altered (kaolinized and reiulered opaque), 
it is found to be completed by a zone of absolutely clear and unaltered 
feldspar substance. The result is that the cavities of the granite are 
lined with a series of projecting crystals of fresh quartz and clear feld- 
spar, the relations of which to the older materials in an altered condition, 
composing the substance of the solid rock, are worthy of the most care- 
ful observation and reflection. 

Those relations can be fully made out when thin sections of the rock 
are examined under the microscope by the aid of polarized light, and 
they speak elociuently of the possession by the crystals of all those 
curious peculiarities of which I have reminded you tins evening. 

By problems such as those which we have endeavoured to solve to- 
night, the geologist is beset at every step. The crust of our globe is 
built up of crystals and crystal fragments — of crystals in every stage of 
development, of growth, and of variation — of crystals undergoing change, 
decay, and dissolution. Hence the study of the natural history of crys- 
tals must always constitute one of the main foundations of geological 
science, and the future progress of that science must depend on how 
far the experiments carried on in laboratories can be made to illustrate 
and explain our observations in the field. 



Before passing on, let me briefly recnpitnlate the chief points in 
Yau't Hoff's g'aseous theory of solution and the experimental laws on 
T\liich it is based. 

(1) In every simple solution the dissolved substance amy be re- 
garded as distributed thioughout the whole bulk of the solution. Its 
total volume is therefore that of the solution, the solvent playing the 
part of so much space; and its specitic volume is the volume of that 
quantity of the solution whicli contains I gram of the substance. To 
avoid confusion, it is best to s})eak ol" this as tiu' specific solution 
volume {v) of tin' substance. It is obviously in inverse ratio to tiie 

(2) In every simi»le solution the dissolved sul»stance exerts ;i (h'fiuife 
osmotic pi'es.siirc {p). This is normally independent of the nature of 
the solvent. It varies iuvorsely as the si)ecific solution volume (<u' di- 
rectly as the concentration), and directly as the absolute t<'mt)erafur(^ 
(T). We ma>' then write for solutions, as we do for gases, tliee(|uation 
2),r=)\ 7', where /> and r hav<' their speciali/.ed meanings, and >• is a, 
constant foi- each soluble substaiu-e, 

(."}) The molecular solution \'olunu' of all dissolved subsiaiu'cs is the 
same if they are compared at the same t<'mperature and osmotic press- 
ure, if in be the molecular weight, )» . r — Tis the molecular solution 
volume; and we can now write, as we <lo for gases, /> ]\= /,'. '/', where 
Ji is the same constant for all substances. 

(4) This constant /t has the same value when tin' toiinnla is applied 
to the dissolved state as wlien it is applied to the gaseous slate itself. 

(5) The gaseous law^s, as I have stated them, are not absolutely true 
for dissolved matter in all cinaimstances. J)issociation often occurs, 
as it may occur in the process of vapcuization, thus causing a])i)arent 
exceptions, but apart from this there are and must be variations from 

* Pii it of iiii address delivered t)y the President r)l' Section I? of the Ansiraliau 
Asociation for tlie Advaneenient of Science, Jannary, 18!)1. (From Xaliirc, Fcl>. 12, 
1«91; vol. XMii.,].]). 315-31!).) 

H. Mis. Ill IJ) 2«9 


the laws iu the case of solutions of great conceutiation, just as tliere 
are in the case of gases aud vapors of great concentration — for in- 
stance, in the neighborhood of the critical point. 

T wish now to ask your attention more particularly to the actual 
process of dissolving, and then to lay before you a hypothesis, which, 
as it seems to me, is a logical consequence of the general tlieory. 

Imagine, then, a soluble solid in contact with water at a. fixed tern- 1 
perature. The substance exercises a certain pressure, in right of which 
it proceeds to dissolve. This liressure is analogous to the vapor pres- 
sure of a volatile body in si^ace, the sjiace being represented by the 
solvent; and the process of solution is analogous to that of vaporiza- 
tion. As the concentration increases, the osmotic i)ressure of the dis- 
solved portion increases, and tends to become equal to that of the un- 
dissolved portion; just as, during vaporization in a closed space, the 
pressure of the accumulating vapor tends to become equal to the 
vapor pressure of the liquid. But if there be enough water present, 
the whole of the solid will go into solution, just as the Avhole of a vola- 
tile body will volatilize if the available space be sufficient. Such a 
solution may be exactly saturated or unsaturated. With excess of the 
solvent it will be unsaturated, and the dissolved matter will then be 
in a state comparable to that of an unsaturated vapor, for its osmotic 
pressure will be less than the possible maximum corresponding to the 
temperature. On the other hand, if there be not excess of water pres- 
ent during the process of solution, a condition of equilibrium aaIII be 
arrived at when the osmotic pressure of the dissolved portion becomes 
equal to the x)ressure of the undissolved portion, just as equilibrium 
will be established between the volatile substance and its vapor if tlie 
space be insufficient for complete volatilization. In such a case we get 
a saturated solution in presence of undissolved solid, just as we nmy 
have a saturated vapor in presence of its own liquid or solid. 

So far we have supposed the temi^erature to be stationary, but it 
may be raised. Now, a rise of temperature will disturb equilibrium in 
either case alike, for osmotic pressure and vapor i)ressure are both 
increased by this means, and a re-establishment of equilibrium neces- 
sitates increased solution or vaporization, as the case may be. 

Now, what will this constantly increasing solubility with rise of tem- 
perature eventually lead to? Will it lead to a maximum of solubility 
at some definite temperature beyond which increase becomes impos- 
sible? Or will it go on in the way it has begun, so that there will 
always be a definite, though it may be a very great, solubility for every 
definite temperature? Or will it lead to infinite solubility before in- 
finite temperature is obtained! One or other of these things must 
happen, provided of course that chemical change does not intervene. 

Well, let us be guided by the analogy that has hitherto held good, ij 
Let us see what this leads us to, and afterwards examine the availa- ~ 
ble experimentfj-l eyid.euce, We know tUut '<\i volatile liquid, will «^t last 


reach a t('iii])oratuio at which it becomes iiitiiiitely vohitile — a tem- 
perature above wiiieli the liquid can iu>t possibly exist in the i^reseiu-e 
of its own vai>or, no matter how great the pressure may be. At this 
temperature. (Minilibrium of pressure between the liquid and its vapor 
becomes impossibh^, and above this ])oiut the substance can exist only 
as a gas. This is the critical temperature. And so it seems to me 
that if we cany our analogy to its logical conclusion, we may expect 
for ex'ery substance and its solvent a detinite tem})erature above which 
equilibrium of osmotic ])ressure between undissolved and dissolved 
substance is imi)ossible — a temperature above which the substance 
can not exist in i)resence of its own solution, or in other words a 
temperature of intinite vsolubility. This may be spoken of as the crit- 
ical solution temperature. 

But a little consideration shows that in one particular we have been 
somewhat inexact in the pursuance of our analogy, for we have com- 
pared the solution of a solid body to the vaporization of a volatile liquid. 
We can however do better than this, for volatile solid bodies are, 
not Avanting. It is to these, then, that we must look in the iirst in- 
stance. Xow, a volatile solid (such as (*am[)hor or iodine) will not 
reach its critical point without having .Hrst melted at some lower tem- 
perature, and a .similar change should be exhibited in the solution 
process. At some delinite temperature, below that of infinite solubil- 
ity, we may expect the solid to melt. This solution melting point will 
iu>t be identical with, but lower than, the true melting point of the 
solid, and for the following reason: Xo case is known, and probably 
no case exists, of two li(fuids one of which dissolves in the other and yet 
can not dissolve any of it in reliirn. Therefore there will b(> formed by 
melting, not the j)ure liquid substance, but a. solution of tlie solvent in 
the liquid substanc(\ Hence the actual nndting or freezing point 
must be lower than the true one, in right of the laws of which I have 
sp(>ken when discussing Haoult's nu'thods in the earlier part of this 

From this solution melting-point ui)wards we shall then have to deal 
with two liquid layers, each containing both substance A and solv<'nt 
7>, but the one being mostly substance .1 and the other mostly solvent 
B. These may be spoken of as the A layer and tlie B layer. As temper- 
ature rises, the proportion of A will decrease in the A layer and increastr 
in the /Mayer; ami every gram of A will occupy an increasing sola 
tion volume in the A layer (7> being absorbed there) and a decreasing 
solution volume in the B layer. At each temperature the osmotic pres- 
sures of .1 in Uw two layers must be equal. The whole course of affairs, 
as thus concei\ed, now admits of the closest comparison with the 
changes wliich acciunpany gradual rise of temperature in the case of a 
volatile liquid and its saturated vapor. Tlie liquid is like the substanc(i 
A in the .1 layer; the vapor (which is the same matter in :inother 
state) is like the same substance A iu the B layer. As temperature 


rises tlie liquid diminishes in total quantity, tlie vapor increasing; but 
the specific volume of the liquid increases, while that of the vapor de- 
creases. The residual liquid is, in fact, constantly encroaching on the 
space of its vapor, just as the residual substance A in the A layer is 
constantly absorbing the solvent B from the B layer. Finally, in either 
case, the specific volume of the substance will become identical in both 
layers, which means that the layers themselves will become homogene- 
ous and indistinguishable. Our system will then have reached' its 
critical temperature — the temperature of infinite volatility in the one 
case and of infinite solubility in the other. 

So much for hypothesis. Are there any facts in support of it? Well, 
in the first place the hypothesis demands that (in the absence of chem- 
ical change) increase of solubility with rise of temperature shall be as 
genera] a law as increase of vapor pressure, and we find that this agrees 
with the known facts, more especially since Tilden and Shenstone {Phil. 
Trans., 1884) cleared up certain doubtful cases. Secondly, the hypothesis 
seems to demand some connection between the true melting points of 
salts and the rates of their increase of solubility; and such a relation 
has in a general way been established by the same observers. Thirdly, 
we have the fact, in complete accordance with the hypothesis, that while 
no case is known of a solid body having, as such, infinite solubility in 
any simple solvent, several cases are knowai of liquids of infinite solu- 
bility, and also of solids which, after they have melted in presence of 
their own solution, become at some higher temperature infinitely soluble. 
This last statement refers to the cases described by Alexeeft" ( ^Vicde- 
maiui's Annalen, 1886), of which 1 must say a good deal more directly. 
It would seem to apply also to the case of silver nitrate, which Tilden 
and Shenstone described as dissolving in water to the extent of 18.25 
parts to one at so low a temperature as 130° C. The true melting-point 
of the salt is 217'^, and I have seen it stated (but have been unable to 
find the published account) that Shenstone has himself shown it to be 
fusible in water, and of infinite solubility at quite reachable temper- 

With regard to substances that are liquid under ordinary conditions, 
we have the well-known fact that some pairs are infinitely soluble in 
one another, while others exhibit the phenomenon of only i)artial solu- 
bihty. The hypothesis would draw no hard and fast distinction 
between these cases, except the practically important one that such a. 
mixture as that of ether and alcohol, which belougsHo the first class, 
is usually above its critical solution point, while such a one as ether 
and water, which belongs to the second class, is usually below it. It 
should be possible, according to the hypothesis, to cool mixtures of 
ether and alcohol sufficiently to cause separation into two layers, simi- 
lar to those observed at the ordinary temperature in the case of ether 
and water; but I do not know that this has yet been put to the test of 


Alcxccirs exiKMiineiits iii)i»('ar to iiic to be ol' the \ <m y lii^licst 
iin]K)rt;ui('(', and to iiieiit the closest attention in any iii(|niry into the 
luitni'e of solntion. As alieady stated, tliey ail'ord the stroniicst snp 
port to the hy}>otli('sis which I have been discnssing: indeed, had it 
not been for this support, 1 shouhl liardly haA'c ventured to discuss it 
at all. They refer to solutions in water, below and al)ove 100"^, of 
])hen(>l, salicylic acid, benzoic acid, aniline phenylate, and aniline, and 
to solutions in molten stdphur of chlorobenzene, benzene, t(duene, 
aniline, and nuistard (»il. All these afford instances of reciprocal i)ar- 
tial solution throughout a considerable range of temperature, leading 
eventually at a detinite temperature to intinite solubility. Several of 
them afford instances also of solid substances with solution melting- 
points below their true melting-points. 

Alexeeff experimentally determined the tem])eratures at which dif 
terent mixtures of the same two liquids are just converted into clear 
soluticuis; or, in other words, he ascertained the strengths of the satu- 
rated solutions corresponding to different temperatures. For each 
])air of li(|uids he found that when a particular strength of mixtnre is 
reached, the temperature of saturation is lowered by furthei- addition 
of either liquid. Thus a mixture of about 37 parts aniline to (m parts 
water requires a temperature of 1640-5 to convert it into a homoge- 
necais solution: but one of 21 of aniline to 79 of w^ater assumes this 
c<»iidition at l.ldo. j^^jd oneof 74:Of * 
aniliiM' to ")() of water does so at 5 
157^*r). He ])1otted his results in | 
the foim of curves, with tempera- istf 
tare an<l i»ercentage sticngth as 
the two coordinates. The curve 
for aniline aiul water is showMi in '20° 
Fig. 1, and this may l)e taken as 
a fair re])resenta.tive, the geneial 
form of all being similar. It is 8o° 
at once apparent that Ibr vvevy 
temperature u]) to a certain limit 
there are two iK)ssible saturated ^o" 
solntions. one of water in aniline 
and one of aniline in water. The 
limiting tejnperature at whi<*li °°^7 

tlK're is but one l)OSsible satnrated ''"'■ l-— IVrccntagc. of imilinein its saturated aqno- 
. ' oils soliitiou (Alcxucll). 

solution, and above which satu- 
ration becomes imi)ossible, is called by Alexeelf the .Mischungs Tem- 
I)eratur. It is what I ha\e called the critical solution temi)erature. It 
is in the case of aniline and water about 107°, as nearly as one can 
Judge from the curve without a greater number of experimcmtal points 
than we have in this i)art; and the corresponding satrnation strength 
is about 50 per cent. It is hardix lUM-essary to say that this equality 

.*=" "" — "■>, 

^^ ^K 

Z \: 

-^ i^ 

t < 

-^ X^ 

4^ U 

4 -^ ^^ 

I ~r ji t 


^ - T" 

il "' ^' ~ 


of the two iugredients is nu accident wliicli does not characterize all 

IsTow imagine a 50 jjer cent mixtare of aniline and water sealed up 
in a tube, shaken, and gradually heated. Let us assume that the tube 
is only large enough to contain the mixture and allow of expansion by 
heat, so that evaporation may be neglected as too small to matei-ially 
compli(;ate the result. The course of events will be exactly what I 
have already described with reference to the hypothetical A layer and 
B layer. There will be formed a saturated solution of water in aniline, 
which we may call tlie aniline layer, and a saturated solution of aniline 
in water — the water layer. Given the temperature, the percentage 
strength of each layer may be read oft' from the curve. As the tem- 
perature rises, the two layers will effect exchanges in such a way that 
the aniline layer will become poorer aiul the water layer richer in 
aniline, and at about 167° the two layers will have attained equal 
strength and become merged into one. Were we to start Avith the 
aniline and water in any other proportions by weight, there would 
still be formed the two saturated solutions, but their relative amounts 
would be different, and one or other would be used up and disappear 
at a lower temperature than 167°. To attain the maximum tempera- 
ture of complete solution, you must start with the exact proportions 
which correspond to that temperature. 

But it is possible to learn even more from Alexeefif's work than he 
himself has made evident. Let me call yi»ur attention to the curve 
shown in Fig. 2*, the data for which I liuvr* calculated in the following 




















































Oc.c. 2-5 5 7-5 /O /2S /5 

Fig. 2.— Vokinie of saturated aqueoiis solution containing 1 gram of aniline. 

From Alexeefif's percentage figures was deduced the weight of water 
capable of dissolving, or being dissolved by 1 gram of aniline at 

* In order to save space, only the npper portion of the curve is here represented, 
as it shows all that is essential to the argument. Of the twelve experimental poiuts 
one ajipears to be somewhat misplaced; hut this doe.s not affect that part of the 
curve shown in the figure. 


each of his ex])eiiiiieiital t(Mii]K'iatuies, so as to form a saturated solu- 
tion. Then from curves showinj^' tlie exi)ansiou of jiure water and 
pure aniline (the latter drawn from Thorpe's data, Trans, ('linn. A'or., 
1880) there were read the specitic volumes of these substances at each 
of ^vlexeetrs temperatures; and from the combined inlbrmation thus 
obtained, there was calculated the total volume of that (piautity of the 
saturated solution at each temperature which contains 1 };ram of ani- 
line. This is what 1 lia\ e already calle<l the specitic solution volume. 
A slight error is involved by the fa<*t that the volume of a solution is 
Dot exactly the sum of the volumes of its ingredi<'nts; but this error is 
necessarily small — too small to afi'ect the general character of the curve 
or the nature of the lesson to be learned from it. 

The specitic solution volumes of the aniline, calculated in this man- 
ner, were found to be as follows: 


iciilic s 



lIllH-S (1 




8 ..- 




1. (KJfi 






1. 297 


150 ' 



164. 5 . . 

I aniliue. 

In water 

. 248 

These specific solution volumes are represented as abscissa' in Fig. 2, 
with the temperatures as ordinates. For the sake of comparison, 1 




















































































Oc.C. 2-5 5 7 5 (0 12-5 '5 

Fig. 3. — Volume of alcohol (litguid and satiirati'd vapor) woif;liiii.u 1 iirain. 

have placed side by side witli it a specific volume and temperature 
curve (Fig. 3) for pure alcohol and its saturated vapor, plotted from 


the experimeiita] data of Iliimsay and Young {Phil. Tranf!., 1.S8G). The 
reason that ah-ohol was chosen is simi)ly that the data were convenient 
to my hand. 

The two curves are strikingly similar in form and signilicance. In 
Fig. 3 we see the specific volume of litjuid alcohol increasing slowly 
with rise of temperature, while that of the saturated vai)or rather 
rapidly decreases. In Fig. 2 we see the specific solution volume of the 
aniline in the aniline layer slowly increasing, while that of the aniline 
in the water layer decreases more rapidly, with rise of temperature* 
In Fig. 3 we see that above the critical i)oint the existence of li(iuid 
alcohol in i^resence of its vapor is imx)ossible. In Fig. 2 we see that 
above the critical solution point the existence of an analine layer in 
jn-esence of a water layer is impossible. In Fig. 3 we see an inclosed 
area Avhich represents those temperatui'cs and spe(;ihc volumes which 
are mutually incompatible. In Fig. 2 we see an inclosed area which 
represents those temperatures and specific solution volumes which are 
mutually incompatil^le. In Fig. 3 we see that any two points on the 
curve Avhich correspond to equal temperature must also, from the na- 
ture of the case, correspond to equal osmotic pressure. In Fig. 3 some 
of the ])ressures are indicated, as this can be d(me from Ramsay and 
Young's data. In Fig. 2 the value of the osmotic pressures can not be 
given, as they have not been experimentally determined. In Fig. 3 
any jjoint outside of the curve and to the right, as at a, corresi)onds 
to the state of unsaturated alcohol vapor, whose tem})erature, specific 
volume, and pressure are indicated — the last by the isobaric line 
which passes through the point. In Fig. 2 any point outside the curve 
and to the right, as at a, must correspond to the state of an unsatur- 
ated aqueous solution of aniline, whose temperature and specific solu- 
tion volume can be read, and whose osmotic pressure could be indi- 
cated by an isobaric line, had we the data for plotting it. A little 
thought makes it evident, too, that such isobaric lines would follow 
the same general course as those shown in the alcohol diagram. 

Now, consider what must be the effect of gradually decreasing the 
volume of the unsaturated vai>or in the one case and the solution 
volume of the aniline in the unsaturated solution in the other, while 
temperature is kei)t constant. In the case of the vapor (Fig. 3) the 
point a will pass to the left across lines of increasing pressure until 
the vapor becomes saturated at />. Then, if the diminution of volume 
continue, a portion of the vapor will condense to the liquid state, or 
be transferred to c, while the rest remains saturated vapor at b. With 
continued decrease of volume, the proportion condensed will con- 
stantly increase, but there can be no alteration of pressure till all is 
condensed; and after that nothing but a very slight diminution of 
volume is possible without a lowering of temperature. Well, how are 
we to diminish the solution volume of the anihne in the unsaturated 
aqueous solution ? Clearly by depriving the solution of some of its 


water, so as to leave the same (iiiantity of aniline distributed tlironj^li- 
out a smaller spai^e. And what will be the lesnlt of (l()in.ij;- this while 
temperature is kept ecnistant .' Evidently, as in the other case, the 
point a (Fig. -) will travel to the left, aeross lines of increasing 
osmotii! pressure, until it reaches h — that is, until the solution is a 
saturated one; and alter that, if more water be abstracted, some of 
the aniline will l)e thrown out or condeused, not as [)ure aniline but 
as a saturated solution of water in aniline, so that two layers will now 
coexist — the aniline in one- having the specitie solution volume repre- 
sented at />, and the aniline in the other having that r(;preseuted at c. 
This transference from h to c, will continue, as water is abstracted, until 
the ratio of residual water to aniline is Just enough to give the whole 
of the latter the specitie solution volume shown at c. At this stage 
the water layer will disap])ear, and only a saturated solution of water 
in aniline will be left; and after that only a very small volume change 
can possibly result from further abstraction of water, as the specific 
solution volume is already not far from the si)ecific volume of i)ure 
aniline itself at the same temi>erature. 

To complete the C:>mj)ai"isou of the two curves, let me jtoint out that, 
Just as we can from Fig, 3 calculate the distribution of alcohol between 
its li(|uid and its vapor layers under givesi conditions, so can we <'alcu- 
late from 1^'ig. 2 the distribution of the aniline between the aniline 
layer and tiie water layer under given conditions. In the former case, 
if the total volume of a tube containing ii grams of alcohol, at, say. 
230^, be )t X ./', and if .r be mai'ked olf (Fig. o) between h and c on the 
line of that temperature, then (.r, />, and c standing for the volumes 

wliich can be read off on the horizontal base line) )i . , is the 

h — c 

weight of the alcohol in tlie vapoi- lav<'r, and ii . , is its weiiiht in 

the li(|Uid la.N'er, and the \-olnnies of the two lavcrs in cubic cent'- 
metersarey/ .!>.', ~ and ii . <■ ' resi>ecti\('l\', which arc together 

e(pnd to // , .V. .lust also witli the anilim^ and watei' mixture (Fig. 2), 
If II X •'■ i>e the total volume of tin; mixture (both layers together) 
containing // grains of aniline, at, say, 140^, and if .r be nKii'ked off 

as it was in the (»ther case, then ;/ . , is the weight of aniliiu' in 

II — c 

h - X 
the water layer, and " • / _ .is its weight in the aniline iaxcr. an<l 

the total volumes (»f the two layers are n . h . , and n . c . , 

— c h — c 

respectively, together equal ii . .v. 

If the actual Aveights of aniline and water in the mixture be given, 
the value of x can be calculated with a very fair approach to accuracy 
by the iiu'thod adojtted in ])lotting the curve; and thus all the facts 
with regard to the <listribution at any tem[)eratur(^ can l)c obtained. 


Now, if it be reQiembered that this case of aniline and water is not 
an isohited one, but typical of many cases experimented on by 
Alexeeff, and if it be remembered also that there exists no direct 
experimental evidence to show that the law which governs these cases 
is not the general law regulating all simple solutions it must I think 
be granted that the facts do somewhat strongly support the hypothesis 
of a critical solution point which I deduced in the first instance from 
the general theory of solution. It may be summed up as follows: 

(1) In every system of solution which starts with a solid and its 
simple solvent, the solid has a solution melting point which is lower 
than its true melting point. Above this temperature the system con- 
sists of two separate liquids, each of which is a saturated solution. 

(2 ) These two liquids become one homogeneous solution at a tem- 
perature which depends on the ratio of the original ingredients. 
There is one ratio which demands a higher temperature than any 
other. This is the critical solution temperature, above which either 
ingredient is infinitely soluble in the other. 

soMK s('(;(;estions uKciAinnNc. solttions.* 

15 V I'lol'. William Kamhay, \\ ]l. S. 

The brilliant presidential address of Prof. Orme ]V[asson at the Chem- 
ical Seetum of the Anstrahisian Association for the Advancement of 
Science marks a distinct advance in onr ideas of solntiou. The analogy 
between the behavior of a, lie] aid and its vapor in presence of eacdi 
other and of a pair of solvents capable of mutual solution is so striking" 
as to carry conviction. The resemblance of the liipiid-vapor curve, 
with its apex at the critical i)oint, to the solubility curve, with its apex 
at the critical solution point, appears to me to prove beyond cavil that 
the two phenomena are essentially of the same nature. 

There are two other phenomena, which, it ai)])ears to me, are made 
clear by the ideas of Prof. Masson. The first of these has reference to 
supersaturated solutions. The curves (i)ublished in N'atKre, February 
iL', p. 348) showing the analogy l>etween liquid-gas and solution curves, 
are isobaiic curves, or, more correctly, they re[)resent the terminations 
of isobaric curves in the region of nuxtures, where, on the one hand, a 
liqui<l exists in i)resence of its vapoi-, and on the other, one solvent in 
the presence of another (for both solvents play the part of dissolved 
substances, as well as of sohents). M. Alexeeff's data are not sulh- 
cient to permit 'of the construction of a curve re]U'esentiug a similar 
region ma])ped out l)y the termination of isothermal lines. l>ut it is 
obvious that it would be ]K>ssible to determine osmotic pressun^s of 
various mixtures by the i'r«'ezing-i)oint m(;thod, and so to constru(*t 
isothermal curves for snch mixtures of solvents. And there can be no 
reasonable doubt that, as the isobaric curves of li(|ind-gas an<l of sol- 
vent-solvent display so close an analogy, the; isotherimd curvets would 
also closely resend)le each other. 

(J ranting then that this is the case, w(^ may c(mstruct an imaginary 
isotliermal curve on the model of the curve for alcohol ])u])lished in the 
ritil. Trans, by Dr. Sydney Young and myself. Now, in one series of 
papers on the liquid-gas relations, we showed that with constant volume 
l)ressure is a linear function of temperature; and we were thus able to 
calculate approximately the pressures and \ olunies for any isotlieriuitl 

*Kea»l l>efor*^ the; Koynl Sofiety «'ii I'lmisd;! y, >!;ir< li .">. isiil. Iioin \(tliiir, \\i\\\ 
23, 1891; vol., \»\>. 589, 590.) 




rei)rcsentiiig' the contimious transition from the gaseous to the licjuid 
state (see Fhil. Mag., 1887, vol. xxiii, p. 435). It would be interesting 
to ascertain whether, if concentration be kept constant, osnioti<' i)res- 
sure woiild also show itself to be a linear function of temperature. 
But this apart, it appears in the highest degree probable that there 
should also exist, in theory at least, a continuous transition from solvent 
to solvent, the representation of which would be a continuous curve. 
In such a case, on increasing the concentration of the solution by elimi- 
nating one solvent, the other solvent should not separate visibly, but 
the two should remain mixed until one solvent has been entirely re- 
moved. The accomi)anying diagram (Fig, 1) will make this clear. The 



Fid. 1. 

sinuous curve A B G D B may represent either continuous change from 
gas to liquid along an isothermal on decrease of volume, oi' it may 
represent a similar continuous change from saturated solution to dis- 
solved sul)stance on increase of concentration. 

.Mr. Aitken's experiments ou the cooling of air containing water- 
vapor have shown us that it is possible to realize a ]>ortion of tlui curve 
A B; the x)henomeiion of "boiling with bumping" constitutes a practical 
rt^alization of a portion of tlie curve J) /:/.• and we may profitably in(|uire 
what (M»nditions determine sucli unstable states with solvent and sol- 

Kegarding the i)ortion of tlie curve A B, I think that no reasonable 
doubt can be entertained. It precisely corresponds to the condition of 
super-saturation. In the liquid-gas curve the volume is decreased at 
constant temperature without separation of liquid; in the solvent-sol- 
vent curve the concentration is increased witlumt separation of the 
solvents. Dr. Nicol has shown that it is possible to dissolve dry sodium 
sulphate in a saturated solution of sodium sulphate to a very consider- 
able extent without inducing crystallization] and here we have a reali- 


zatioii of the unstable i)orti(>u oi' tlieenrve .1 /»'. In the j;iis-li(iui(l curve 
pressure falls with formation of a shower of drops; iu the solvent-sol- 
vent eurve crystallization euvsues and the solvents separate. The 
plienonu'na are liowever not completely ana]oi>'ous; the comi)let<' anal- 
o<iy wouhl be if the tempeiature were so low that the substance in the 
li(juid-j4as eoui)]e were to sepaiate iu the solid, not in the li(piid, state. 
This, so far as I am aware, has not been (experimentally realized, but 
one sees no reason why it should not l)e possible. 

I hav«! sonn> hesitation in offering;' speculations as to the state of 
matter at the ]>ortion of the continuous curve D E. It may be that it 
corresponds to a syrui)y or viscous state. Cane su^ar at the moderate 
temperature dissolves water; indeed it is possible to obtain a solution 
of 1 per cent of water in molten cane sugar. And such a solution, if 
quickly cooled, renuiins a syrup. But it can be induced to crystallize 
by the presence of crystals. Thus, in such a mixture of sugar and 
Avater a few grains of crystalline sugar cause the whole mass to crystal- 
lize, and water saturated with sugar, and sugar, separate into two layers. 
Here agaiis a complete analogy fails us, for it is a soli<l which separates. 
As Me know nothing of tlie osmotic [)ressure of a syrup, the analogy is 
a defecti\-e one: but it is piobable that a dilute solution of sugar would 
pass continuously into a syrup of pure sugar by evaporation of the sol- 
Acnt, and analogy would lead to i\w supi)osition that the syrup coin- 
cid(^s with the unstable state of the liquid. I would therefore offer the 
analogy between the syrujtpy and the super-cooled states as a tentative 
one; it lacks foundation in both cases. 

()nei)oint icmains to Ixe mentioned. I have for the past nine months, 
in eon junction with Mr. Ivdgar I'erman, lieen deteiininingtheadiabatic 
relations for licpiid and gaseous ethei-: the lise of i)ressure and tempera- 
tuie when volnme is decreased without tins (\scai)e of heat. Ft is ob- 
vious that similar relations ai'c det ei-minable for solutions, and probably 
with mu(;li gr(eater facility. IM. Alexi'clf has made sonue nu'asurements 
which might be utilized for this purpose, but they are far too few in 
number, and moreover, the necessary data as regards osmotic pressure 
are wholly wanting, it would be ]K)ssi])le. by a series of dift'erent ex- 
periments, to ascertain the evolntion (»f heat on increasing concentra- 
tion, and so to arrive at a knowledge of the specilic heats of the solu- 
tion at constant osmotic pressure. coires])onding to the idea of specilic 
heats at constant pressure; and also of specific heats at ccmstant concen- 
tration, corresponding to specilic heats at constant volume. I do m)t 
know whether such researches would yield as accurate results as those 
we are at present carrying out, but they are at least well worthy of at- 

By ]*r()f. William Ramsay, F. R. S. 

Almost exactly twenty years ago, on June 2, IcSTl, Dr. Andrews, of 
Belfast, delivered a lecture to the members of tlie Jfoyal Institution 
in this hall, on ^<The Continuity of the Gaseous and the Liquid States 
of Matter."'' lie showed in that lecture an experiment which 1 had best 
describe in liis own words: 

"Take, for exam]ile, a i;iven volume of carbonic acid at HOOC, or af 
a hijiher temperature, and expose it to increasing- i)ressure till 150 
atmosidicrcs have been reached. In the process, its vohini<' will steadily 
diminish as the pressure auji'ments; and no sudden dimunition of 
volume, without the application of external ])ressure, will occur at any 
stage of it. Wlien the full ])ressure has been applied, let tlie tempera- 
ture be allowed to fall, until the carl)onic acid has reached rlie ordinary 
temperature of the atmosphere. During the whole of this operation, 
no break of continuity has occurred. It begins with a gas, and by a 
series of gi-adual changes, presenting nowhere any abrupt alterations 
of volume, or sudden evolution of heat, it ends with a liquid. I^'or con- 
\<'nience, the i)rocess lias been devided into two stages — the compress- 
ion of the carbonic a('i<l, and its subsequent cooling. But these opera- 
tions might have been performed sinuiltaneously, if care Avere taken so 
to arrange the ap]»li<'ation of the pressure and the rate of cooling that 
the ju'essure should not be less than 70 atmospheres when the carbonic 
acid had cooled to-'HoC." 

1 am able, through the kindness of Dr. Letts, Dr. Andrews's succes- 
sor at Belfast, to show you this exi)erimcnt, with the identical piece of 
api»aratus used on the o(;casion of the lecture twenty years ago. 

1 must ask you to spend some time to-night in consideiing this 
remarkable behavior; and, in order to obtain a correct idea of what 
occurs, it is well to begin with the study of gases, not, as in the case 
you have just seen, exposed to high pressures, but under pressures not 
differing greatly from that of the atmosphere, an<l at tem])eratures 
M'hich can be exactlx' legulated and measure<l. To many here to-night, 
such a study is unnecessary, owing to its familiarity; but I will ask 
such of my audience to excuse me, in order that 1 may tell my story 
from the beginning. 

* IjCf'tnre deliv<Me<l iit tlu^ Koy;il Institution, on Fiidii.v, May S. (From Xiiture, 
July 23, 1891; vol. xuv, j)p. 274-277.) 

• ■ ■ ■ 303 1 


Generally speakiug, a gas, when compressed, decreases in volume 
to an amount erpial to tliat by wliicli its pressure is raised, provided 
its temperature be kept constant. This was discovered by Eobert 
Boyle in 1000; in 1001 he presented to the Eoyal Society a Latin trans- 
lation of his book, " Touching the Spring of the Air and its Effects." 
His words are : 

"It is evident, that as common air, when reduced to half its natural 
extent, obtained a spring about twice as forcible as it had before; so 
the air, being thus compressed, being further crowded into half this 
narrow room, obtained a spring as strong again as that it last had, and 
consequently four times as strong as that of common air." 

To illustrate this, and to show how such relations may be expressed 
by a curve, I will ask your attention to this model. We have a 
piston, fitting a long horizontal glass tube. It confines air under the 
pressure of the atmosphere — that is, some 15 pounds on each s(]uare 
inch of area of the x)iston. The pressure is supposed to be registered 
by the height of the liquid in the vertical tube. On increasing tlie 
volume of the air, so as to double it, the pressure is decreased to half 
its original amount. On decreasing the volume to half its original 
amount, the i)ressure is d^mbled. On again halving, the i)ressuie is 
again doubled. Tims you see a curve may be traced, in which the 
relation of V(»lume to pressure is exhibited. Such a curve, it may be 
remarked incidentally, is termed an hypeibola. 

We can repeat Boyle's experiment by pouring mercury into the open 
limb of tliis tube containing a measured amount of air; on causing 
the level of the mercury in the open limb to stand oO inches (that is, 
the height of the barometer) higher in the 0])en lind) than the closed 
limb, the pressure ot the atmosphere is doubled, and the volume is 
halved. And on trebling the pressure of the atmosphere the volume 
is reduced to one-third of its original amount; and on adding another 
30 inches of mercury, the volume of the air is now one-quarter of that 
which it originally occupietl. 

It must be remembered that here the temperature is kept constant; 
that it is the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere. 

Let us next examine the behavior of a gas when its temperature is 
altered, when it becomes hotter. T'his tube contains a gas— air— con- 
fined at atmospheric pressure by mercury, in a tube surrounded by a 
jacket or mantle of glass, and the vapor of boiling water can be blown 
into the space between the mantle and the tube containing the air, so as 
to heat the tube to 100° C, the temperature of the steam. The tempera- 
ture of the room is 17° C, and the gas occupies 290 divisions of the scale. 
On blowing in steam, the gas expands, and on again equalizing pres- 
sure, it stands at 373 divisions of the scale. The gas has thus expanded 
from 200 to 373 divisions, i. e., its volume has increased by 83 divisions; 
and the temi)erature has risen from 17° to 100c>, i. ^., through 83*^0. 
This law of the expansion of gases was discovered almost simultane- 


ously by Dalton and (ray-Lussac in isoi; it usually ,i;oes by the uame 
of Gay-Lussac's law. Now, if we do not allow the volume of the gas to 
increase, we shall find that the pressnre Avill increase in the same pro- 
portion that the volume would have increased had the gas been allowed 
to expand, the i^ressnre having l)een kept constant. To decrease the 
volume of the gas, then, according to IJoyle's law, will require a higher 
initial pressure; and if we were to represent the results by a curve, 
we should get an hyperbola, as before, but one lying higher as regards 
pressures. And so we should get a set of hyperbolas for higher iiud 
higher temiieratures. 

We have experimented up to the present with air — a. mixture of two 
gases, oxygen and nitrogen ; and the boiling points of both of these ele- 
ments lie at very low temperatures: —184° C. and — r.l.i'^.l C, respect- 
ively. The ordinary atmospheric temi)erature lies a long way above the 
boiling points of li<piid oxygen and licpiid nitrogen at the ordiiuxry at- 
mospheric i^ressure. But it is oi)en to us to study a gas, which, at the 
ordinary atmospheric temperature and pressure, exists in th(^ liquid 
state; and for this purpose I shall choose \Aater gas. In order that it 
may be a gas at ordinary atmospheric pressure, however, we must h(;at 
it to a temperature above 100'^ C, its boiling point. This tube contains 
water gas at a temperature of lOoO C; it is under ordinary j>ressure, 
for the mercury columns are at the same level in both the tubes and 
in this reservoir, which communicates with the lower end of the tube 
by means of the india-rubber tubing. Tlie temperature 105° is main- 
tained by the vapor of chloro-benzene, boiling in the bulb sealed to the 
Jacket, at a j)ressure lower than that of the atmosphere. 

Let us now examine the effect of increasing pressure. On raising 
the reservoir tlie volume of the gas is diminished, as usual, and nearly 
in the ratio given by Boyle's law; that is, tlie volume decreases in the 
same proportion as the pressure increases. But a change is soon ob- 
served; the pressure soon ceases to rise; the distance between the 
mercury in the reservoir and that in the tube renniins constant, and 
the gas is now condensing to liquid. The pressure continues constant 
during this change, and it is only when all the water gas has condensed to 
liquid water that the pressure again rises. After all the gas is condensed 
an enormous increase of pressure is necessary to cause any measurable 
decrease in volume, for liquid water scarc'cly yields to pressure, and in 
such a tube as this no measurements could b(^ attempted with success- 

Kepresenting this diagrammatically, the right-hand ])art of the curve 
represents the compression of the gas, and the curve is, as before, 
nearly a hyperbola. Then comes a break, and great decrease in 
volume occurs without rise of pressure, represented l)y a horizontal 
line; the substance in the tube here consists of water gas in presence 
of water; the vertical, or nearly vertical line represents the sudden 
and great rise of pri^ssure, where li(iuid water is being slightly com- 
pressed. The ])ressure registered by the horizontal line is termed the 
II. Mis. lU 20 


"vapor- pressure" of water. If now the temperature were raised to 
110° C, we should liave a greater initial volume for the water gas; it is 
compressible by rise of the mercury as before, the relation of pressure 
to volume being, as before, represented on the diagram as an approxi- 
mate hyperbola; and as before, condensation occurs when volume is 
suflBcieutly reduced, but this time at a higher pressure. AVe have 
again a horizontal portion, representing the pressure of water gas at 
110° 0. in contact with liijuid water; again, a sliarp angle where all 
gaseeus water is condensed, and again a very steep curve, almost a 
straight line, representing the slight decreases of volume of water pro- 
duced by a great increase of pressure. And we should have similar 
lines for 12()o, 130°, 140°, ir>Oo C, and for all temperatures within certain 
limits. kSuoh lines are called isothermal lines, or shortly "isothermals," 
or lines of equal temperature, and represent the relations of pressure 
to volume for different temperatures. 

Dr. Andrews made similar measurements of the relations between 
the pressures and volumes of carbon dioxide, at pressures much higher 
than tliose 1 ha^•e shown you for water. But I prefer to si^eak to you 
about similar results obtained by Prof. Sydney Young and myself with 
ether, because Dr. Aiulrews was unable to work with carbon dioxide 
free from air, and that influenced his results. For example, you see 
that the meeting points of his hyperbolic curves with the straight lines 
of vapor i^ressures are curves, and not angles; that is caused by the 
presence of about 1 part of air in 500 parts of carbon dioxide; also the 
condensation of gas was not perfect, for he obtained curves at the 
points of change from a mixture of liquid and gas to liquid. We 
however were more easily able to fill a tube with ether free from air, 
and you will notice that the points I have referred to are angles, not 

Let me first direct your attention to the shapes of the curves in the 
diagram. As the temperature rises the vapor-pressure lines lie at 
higher and higher pressures, and the lines themselves become shorter 
and shorter. And finally, at the temperature of 31° C. for carbon di- 
oxide, and at 195° C. for ether, there ceases to be a horizontal portion 
at all; or rather the curve touches the horizontal at one point in its 
course. That point corresponds to a definite temperature, 195° C. for 
ether; to a definite pressure, 27 meters of mercury, or 35.0 atmos- 
pheres; and to a definite volume, 4.00 cubic centimeters per gram of 
ether. At that point the ether is not liquid, aud it is not gas; it is a 
homogeneous substance. At that temperature ether has the appear- 
ance of a blue mist; the striie mentioned by Dr. Andrews and by 
other observers are the result of unequal heating, one portion of the 
substance being liquid and another gas. You see the appearance of 
this state on the screen. 

^Vhen a gas is compressed it is heated. Work is done on the gas, 
and its temperature rises. If I compress the air in this syringe forci- 


bly its teinperatiue rises so liigli that 1 can set a })iece of tinder on 
tire and by its help explode a little gunpowder. If the ether at its 
critical point be compressed by screwing^ in the screw, it is somewhat 
warmed and the blue cloud disapi)ears. Conversely, if it is expanded 
a little by unscrewing- the seicw and increasing its volume, it is cooled 
and a dense mist is seen, accompanied by a shower of ether rain- 
This is seen as a black log on the screen. 

I "wish also to direct your attention to wluit ha|)pens if the vohime 
given to the ethtn- is greater than the critical volume — on increasing 
the volume you see that it boils away and evaporates completely; and 
also what hajipens if the vobime be somewhat less than the critical 
volume — it then expainls as ]i(piid and completely tills the tube. It is 
only at the critical volume and temperature that the ether exists in the 
state of bbie ch)Tnl, and has its critical ])ressure. If the volume be 
too great, the juessure is below the critical pressure; if too small, the 
pressure is higher than the critical pressure. 

Still one more x^oii't betbre we dismiss this experiment. At a tem- 
perature some degrees below the critical temperature, the meniscus, 
/. c, the surface of the liquid, is curved. It has a skin on its surface; 
its molecules, as Lord Kayleigli has recently explained in this room, 
attract one another, and it exliibits surface tension. IJaise the tem- 
perature and tlie meniscus grows liatter; raise it further, aud it is 
nearly flat and almost invisible; atihe (-ritical temperature it disap- 
pears, having first become quite tlat. Surface tensicm therefore dis- 
appears at the critical i)oint. A liipiid would no longer rise in a nar- 
rowcapillary tube; it would stand at the same level outside and inside. 

It A\ as suggested by I'rof. Janu's Thomson, ami by Prof. Clausius 
about the same time, that il'lhe i(l<'al state of things weie to exist, the 
]»assage from the liqnid to the gaseous state shcmld be a conlinuoas 
one, not nuMcly at ami above the critical i>oint, but below that t<'mper- 
ature. And it was suggested that the curves, shown in the (igure, in- 
stead of breaking into the straight line of \apor ])iessure, should con- 
tinue sinuously. Let us see what this conce})tion would involve. 

On decreasing the volume of a gas, it should not liquefy at the point 
marked B on the diagram (Fig. 2), but should still decrease in volume 
on increase of pressure. This decrease should continue until the pohit 
E is reached. The anomalous state of matters should tiien occur, that a 
decrease in vohime should be accompanied by a decrease of pressure. 
In order to lessen volume, the gas must be exposed to a continually di- 
minishing ]uessure. P>ut such a comlition of matter is of its nature 
unstable, an<l Inis never been realized. After volume has been de- 
creased to a certain point, F, decrease of volume is again attended by 
iiH-rease of pressure, ami the last i)art of the curve is continu<ms with 
the realizable curve re])r(^seuting the compression of the li(iuid, above D. 

J)r. Sydney Young and I succeeded, by a method which I shall 



briefly describe, iu mapping the actual position of the nurealizable por- 
tions of the curve. They have the form pictured in this figure. The rise 
trom the gaseous state is a gradual one, but the fall from the liquid state 
is abrupt. 


Fig. 2. 

Consider the volume 14 cubic centimeters per gram on the figure. 
The equi-volume vertical line cuts tlie isothennal lines for the temper- 
atures 175°, 180°, 185°, 190°, and so on, at certain definite pressures, 
which may be read from a properly-constructed diagram. We can map 
the course of lines of equal volume, of which the instance given is one, 
using temperatures as ordinates and pressures as absciss*. We can 
thus find the relations of temperature to pressure for certain definite 
volumes, which we may select to suit our convenience— say 2 c.c. per 
gram; 3, 4, 5, 6, and so on, Now, all such lines are straight — that is, 
the relation of pressure to temperature, at constant volume, is one of the 


simplest: pressure is a linear fauction ol" tempcratiiie. Exi^ressed 
iiiathematieally — 

p = bt — a, 

•where h iiiid a iire eoiistants, depeiiding- on the volume cliosen, aud 
varying' with each volume. IJut a^ strai.ij;ht line uiay be extrapolated 
without error; and so, havinji' found values for <( and h for sueh a 
vohnue as (> e.e. i)er gram, by help of experinu'uts at temperatures 
higher than 195^, it is possible by e.\tra])olation to obtain the pressures 
corresponding to temperatures 1)elow the critical point 19.")'3 by simple 
means. But below that temperature the substance at volume is in 
practice partly li(juid and partly gas. Yet it is possible by such means 
to ascertain the relations of pressure to temperature for the unrealiz- 
able portion of the state of a liquid — that is, we cau deduce the pressure 
and temperature corresponding to a continous (-hauge from liquid to 
gas. And in this nmuner the sinuous lines on the figure have been 

It is i)ossible to realize ex))crimeutally certain ])ortions of such con- 
tinuous curves. If we condense all gaseous ethei- and, when the tube 
is completely tilled with liijuid, carefully reduce pressure, the pressure 
may be lowered considerably below the vapor pressure corresponding 
to the temperature of ebullition, without any change further than the 
slight expansion of the li(]uid resulting tVom the reduction of pres- 
sure — an expansion too small to be seen with this api)aratus. But on 
still further reducing pressure, vSudden ebullition occurs, and a ])ortion 
of the liquid suddenly changes into gas, while the pressure rises 
quickly to the vapor pressure corresiionding to the teuq)erature. If we 
are successful in expelling all air or gas from the ether in filling the 
tube, a considerable i)ortion of this curve can be ex])erimentally realized. 

The first notice of this appearaiu'e, or rather of one owing- its exist- 
ence to a precisely similar cause, is due to Ifooke, the celebrated con- 
temporary of Boyle. It is noted in the account of the Proeeedni(/s of 
the Royal kSovletii on ]Srovend)er 0, I(i72, that "Mr. Ilooke read a dis- 
course of his, containing his th<mghts of the cx])erinuMit of the <jnick- 
silver's standing- to]) full, and far above the height of 2t» inches, to- 
gether with some exi)erinu'uts made by hiju, in order to determiiK^ the 
cause of this strange phenomenon, lie was ordeied to prepare those 
experiments for the view of the Society." Aiid on November 13 ''the 
exi)eriment for the high suspension of (iui<'ksilver being called for, it 
was found that it had failcMl. It was oi-dered tliat thicker glasses 
slumld be provided iov the next meeting."' 

There can be no doubt tliat this behax lor is caused hy the attrac- 
tion of the nu)lecul<^s of the li<|uid for each other. An«l if the tenq)era- 
ture be sufiicientlylow, the pressure maybe so reduced that it becomes 
negative — that is, until the liquid is exposed to a strain or pull, as is 
the mercury. This lias been experimentally realized by M. ]^)erthelot 
and by Mr. AVorthington, the latter of whom has succeeded in strain- 


in (J alcohol at the ordinary temperature with a pull equivalent to a 
negative pressure of 25 atmospheres, by completely lillini;- a bulb with 
alcohol, and then cooling it. The alcohol in contracting- strains the 
bulb inwards; and iinally, when the tension becomes very great, parts 
from the glass with a sharp "click." 

To realize a portion of the other bend of the curve, an experiment has 
been devised by Mr. John Aitken. It is as follows: If air — that is 
space, for the air plays a secondary part — saturated with moisture be 
cooled, the moisture will not deposit unless there are dust particles on 
which condensation can take place. It is not at first evident how this 
corresponds to the compressing of a gas Avithout condensation. But a 
glance at the figure will render the matter plain. Consider the isother- 
mal 175° 0. for ether at the ])oint marked A. If it were possible to lower 
the temperature to 100° C. without condensation, keeping volume con- 
stant, the pressure would fall, and the gas would then be in the state 
represented on the isothermal line 160° at G, — that is, it Avould be in 
the same condition as if it had been compressed without condensation. 

You saw that a gas, or a liquid, is heated by compression ; a piece of 
tinder was set on fire by the heat evolved on compressing air. You 
saw that condensation of ether was brought about by diminution of 
pressure — that is, it was cooled. Now, if h,ir be suddenly expanded 
it will do work against atmospheric pressure aiul will cool itself. This 
globe contains air; but the air has been fitltered carefully through cot- 
t(m-wool, with the object of excluding dust particles. It is saturated 
with moisture. On taking a stroke of the pump, so as to exhaust the 
air in the globe, no change is evident; n.o condensation has occurred, 
although the air has been so cooled that the moisture should condense 
were it possible. On repeating the operation with the same globe, 
after admitting dusty air — ordinary air from this room — a slight fog 
is produced, and, owing to the light behind, a circular rainbow is 
seen; a slight shower of rain has taken place. There are compara- 
tively few dust particles, because only a little dusty air has been ad- 
mitted. On again repeating the fog is denser; there are more par. 
tides on which moistnre may condense. 

One point more and I have done. Work is measured by the distance 
or height through which a weight can be raised against the force of 
gravity. The British unit of work is a foot-pound — that is, a pound 
raised through 1 foot; that of the metric system is 1 gram raised 
through 1 centimeter. If a pound be raised through 2 feet twice as 
much work is done as that of raising a pound through 1 foot, and an 
amount e(pial to that of raising 2 pounds througli 1 foot. The measure 
of Avork is therefore the weight nuiltij)lied by the distance through 
which it is raised. When a gas expands against pressure it does work. 
The gas may be supposed to be confined in a vertical tube and to pro- 
l)el a i)iston upward against the pressure of the atmospheie. If such 
a tube has a sectional area of 1 square centimeter, the gas in expand- 


iii^i" ;i centimeter up the tube lifts a weight of iieaily 1 ,000 grants through 
1 centimeter, for the preissure of tin? atmostjjhere on a S((uare (;enti- 
meter of surface is nearly 1,000 grains — that is, it (h)es 1,000 units of 
work, or ergs. So the work done by a gas in expanding is measured 
by the change of volume multi]»licd by the ])ressure. On tlie figuic, tiie 
change of volume is measmcd horizontally, the change of pressure ver- 
tically. Hence the work done is equivalent to tlie area ABC 7> on 
the figure. 

If li(piid as it exists at A change to gas as it exists at B, the sub- 
stance changes its volume aud may be made to do work. This is 
familiar in the steam engine, where work is done by water expanding 
to steam aud so increasing its v<dume. The pressure does not alter 
during this change of volume if suflflcieut heat be supplied; hence the 
work done during such a change is given by the rectangular area. 

Suppose that a man is conveying a trunk u]} to the first story of a 
lumse; he may do it in two (or, perhaps, a greater number of) ways. lie 
may put a ladder up to the drawing-room window, shoulder his truidc, 
and deposit it directly on the first floor; or he may go down the area 
stairs, pass through the kitchen, up the kitchen stairs, up the first 
flight, up the second flight, and down again to the first story. The end 
result is the same; aud he does the same amount of work in both cases 
so far as conveying the weight to a- given height is concerned, because 
in going down stairs he has actually allowed work to be done on him 
by the descent of the weight. 

Now, the li(iuid in expamling to gas begins at a definite volume; it 
evaporates gradually to gas without altering lux'ssure, heat being, of 
c<mrse, communi<;ated to it (hiring the change, else it would cool itself; 
and it finally ends as gas. It increases its volume by a definite amount 
at a detinite pi-essure, and so does a definite amount of work. This 
work might be utilized in driving an engine. 

r>ut if it i)ass continuously from licpiid to gas, the starting ])oint and 
the end i)oint are both the same as before. An e(|ual anu>unt of work 
has been done: but it has been done by going down the area stair (as 
it were), and over the round I described before. 

It is clear tliat a less auu)unt of work has been done ontiie h^ft hand 
side of the figure than was done belbre, and a greater amount on the 
right-hand side; and if I have made my mcainng clear you will s<'e 
that as nuich less has been done on the one side as more has been 
done on the other— that is, that the area of the figure B E /f must be 
equal to that of the figure A F H. Dr. Young and 1 have tried this 
experimentally — that is, by measuring the calculated areas — an<l we 
found them to be equal. 

This can Ik^ shown to you easily by a simple device, namely, taking 
them out and weighing them. As this diagram is an exact represen- 
tation of the results of our experiments with ethci- th(^ device^ can be 
put in luactice. We can detach these areas, which are cut out in tin, 


and place one in each of this pair of scales and they balance. The 
fact tliat a nnniber of areas thus measured gave the tlieoretical results 
of itself furnishes a strong support of the Justice of the conclusions we 
drew as regards the forms of these cnrves. 

To attempt to explain the reasons of this behavior would take more 
time than can be given to-night; moreover, to tell the truth, we do not 
know them. But we have at least partial knowledge and we may 
hope that investigations at jiresent being carried out by Prof. Tait 
may give us a clear idea of the nature of the matter and of the forces 
which act on it, and with which it acts, during the continuous change 
from gas to liqnid. 


By Henry Faiei'ield Osborn. 

In the past decade of practii-al research and S])ecn]ation in biology, 
two snbjects have oustripped in interest and importance the rapid prog- 
ress all along the line. These are, tirst, the life history of the repro- 
ductive cell from its infancy in the ovum onward, and second, the 
associated problem of heredity, which passes insensibly from the held 
of direct observation into the region of pure speculation. 

As regards the cell it was generally believed that the nucleus was an 
arcannm into the mysteries of which we could not far penetrate; but 
this belief has long been dispelled by the eager specialist, and it is no 
exaggeration to say that we now know more about the meaning of the 
nucleus than we did about the entire cell a few years ago. At that 
time the current solution of the heredity problem was a purely formal 
one; it (;ame to the main barrier, namely, the relation of heredity and 
evolution to the reproductive cells, and leapt owv it by the postulate 
of Pangenesis. The germ-cell studies of Balfour, Van Beneden, the 
Hertwig brothers, Weismann, Boveri, and others, have gradually led 
us to hope that we shall sonu' day trace the connection between the 
intricate metamorphos(\s in these cells and the external phenomena of 
heredity, and more than this, to realize that the heredity theory of the 
future must rest upon a far more exact knowledge than we enjoy at 
present of the history of the reproductive cell both in itself and in the 
influence which the surrounding body cells lia\<' upon it. 

These advances alfe(;t the problem of lil'e and proto])lasm, whether 
studied by the ])hysician, the antiiropologist, or the zoologist, thus con- 
centrating into one focus o])inions wliicli ha\ e been formed by the 
observation of widely different (glasses of facts. As each class of facts 
bears to the observ(;r a diifei'ent aspect and gives him a i)ersonal bias, 
the discusson is by no means irenical, and it is our i)iivilege to live 
through one of those heated ]>eriods which mai'k the course of every 
revolution in the world of ideas. Such a crisis was brought about bv 

*The Cartvvright Lectures for 1892; delivered before Ahiiimi of tli«^ College of 
Physicians ami Surgeons, l\'hiuar.\' 12. 19, and 26, 1892. (From tlu^ Medical lUrord 
for February 20, March .■"), April 28, an<l May 11, 1892.) 



t)ie iHiblicatioii of the theory of Darwin, in 1S58, and, after subsiding, 
has again been aroused by Weismann's theory of heredity, published 
in 1883. 

This is the situation I have ventured to present to you as Cartwright 
lecturer, not, of course, without introducing some conclusions of my 
own, which have been derived livmi vertebrate pahcontology, but which 
I shall direct mainly upon human evolution. 

So far as theories need come before us now, remember that Lamarck 
(1792) attributed evolution to the hereditary transmission to ottspring 
of changes (acquired variations) caused by environment and habit in 
the parent. Darwin's latest view was that evolution is due to the 
natural selection of such congenital vai'iations as favored survival, sup- 
j)lemented by the transmission of acquired variations. Weismann 
denies the transmission of acquired variations, or characters, entirely, 
and attributes evolution solely to the natural selection of the indi- 
viduals which bear the most favorable variations of the geim or repro- 
ductive cells. We nuist therefore clearly distinguish between "con- 
genital variations" which are part of our inheritance and "acquired 
variations" which are due to our life liabits; the question is, are the 
latter transmitted':! 

At the outset I would emphasize the extreme complexity of evolution 
by a few words upon variation, or in terms of medical science, upon 

Wlien we sjieak of a part as "anomalous" we mean that it varies at 
birth from the ordinary or typical form; it may be minute, as the small 
slip of a tendon, or large, as the addition of a complete vertebra to the 
spinal cohimn. Wood has found that in tlie muscular system alone 
there are nine anomalies in the average individual. It is clear that 
the evolution of a new type, so far as the muscular system is concerned, 
must consist in the accumulation of anomalies in a certain definite 
direction by heredity. Thus the anomalous condition of one generation 
may become the typicial condition of a very much later generation, and 
we observe the paradox of a. typi(;al structure becoming an anomaly 
and an anomalous structure becoming typi(;al: for example, the supra- 
condylar foramen of the liumerus was once typical, it is now anom- 
ahms; the retardation in development of the wisdom tooth was once 
anoaialous, it is now typical. 

The same principle applies to races which are in different stages of 
evolution; an anomaly in the white, such as the early closure of the 
cranial sutures, is normal in the black. Now the deductions of the 
Weismann school of evolutionists seem to be founded ui)on the prin- 
ciple "■de minimis non curat /e.r;" that we need only regard such major 
variations as can, ex hypothesis weigh in the scale of survival. Against 
this 1 urge tluxt we must regard the evolution of particular structures, 
the components of larger organs, the separate muscles and bones for 
example, for the very reason that while iu some cases they play a most 


humble role in our economy we ean ])rove beyond a doubt that they are 
in course of evolution. .Minor variations in foot structure, whicli are 
possibly of vital importance to a quadruped whose very existence may 
depend upon speed, siidc into obscurity as factors in the survival of 
the modern American. 

The evohition of uran in the most unimportant details of his structure 
promises, therefore, to attbrd a tar more crucial test of the Lamarckiau 
vs. the pure natural selection theory, than in the domain of his hij;her 
faculties, for the reason that selection may operate upon variations in 
mind, while it taxes our credulity to believe it can operate upon varia- 
tions in muscle and bone. This is my ground for selecting the skele- 
ton and muscles for the subject of the introductory lecture. Never- 
theless, let us review variation in all its forms in luiman anatomy be- 
fore forming an opinion. Let us remember, too, that congenital and 
acquired variations are universal as necessities of birth and life; they 
are exhibited in the body as a whole — in its proportions, in the compo- 
nents of each limb, linally in the separate parts of each component, as 
in the divisions of a complex muscle. Thus the possibilities of trans- 
formism are everywliere. What is the nature and origin of congenital 
variations? Their causes? Do they follow certain directions? Do 
they spring from acquired variations by heredity ? These are some 
of the questions wliich are still unsettled. 

But striking as are the anomalies from type, the repetitions of type 
as exhibited in atavism and normal inh(u-itance are still more so, and 
equally difllicult to explain. Tlicreforc our theory must provide both 
ibr the observed laws of repetition of am-estral form and thb laws of 
variation from ancestral form, as the pasture-land ofevoluti<m. Add 
to these, that for a period in each generation this entire legislation of 
nature is comi)ressed into the tiny nucleus of the fertilized ovum, 
and tlu' whole problem rises before us in its apparent imi)regnability 
which only intensifies our ardor of research. 


The aiitinopologists and anatoniists liave enjoyed a certain monoi>oly 
of Homo .s(tjn(iis^ while the biologists have directed tlieir energies 
nminly upon the lower creation. lint under the inspiring intluenccs of 
the Darwinian theory these originally distinct branches have con- 
verged, and as man takes his i)lace in the zoological system, conn)ai- 
ative anatomy is recognized as the inlallible key to human anatomy. 

For our ]>resent pnrpose we nuist sup])ress our sentinu'iili at the out- 
set and state plainly that the only intei-pretation of our bodily sti'uc- 
ture li(;s in the theory of our des(-ent from some early member of the 
primates, such as may have given rise also to the living Anthr(>poidea. 
This is also the only tenable teleological view, for manj^ of our inher- 
ited organs ar<' at luesent non purposive, in some cases even harmful, — 
as the appendix vermiformis. 


From the typical mammalian standpoint man is a degenerate 
animal; his senses are inferior in acuteness; his upright position, while 
giving him a sni^erior aspect, entails many disadvantages, as recently 
enumerated by Clevenger,* for the body is not fully adapted to it; his 
feet are not superior to those of many lower Eocene plantigrades; his 
teeth are mechanically far interior to those of the domestic cat. In 
fact, if an unbiassed comparative anatomist should reach this planet 
from Mars he could only pass favorable comment uj>on the perfection 
of the hand and the massive brain. Holding these trumps, man has 
been and now is discarding many useful structures. 1 refer especially 
to civilized man, who is more j>rodigal with his inheritance than the 
savage. By virtue of the hand and the brain he is nevertheless the 
best adapted and most cosmoj^olitan vertebrate. The man of Nean- 
derthal or Spy, with retreating forehead and brain of small cubic 
capacity t was limited both in his ideas and his powers of travel; yet 
he was our sui)erior in some points of osteological structure. But the 
X^eriod of Neanderthal was recent compared with that in which some 
of our rudimentary organs were serviceable, such as the vermiform 
appendix or the panniculiis carnosus| muscle. These rudiments in 
turn are neogenetic when we consider the age of the two antique 
sense organs in the optic thalamus, the remnants of the median or 
pineal eye and the pituitary body, both of which were undoubtedly 
present, and probably useful, in the recently discovered Silurian iishes. 

I mention these vestiges of some of the first steps in creation to illus- 
trate the extraordinary conservative power of heredity (which is even 
more forcibly seen in our embryological development), partly also to 
show how widely our organs differ in age. Galton has com^iared the 
human frame to a new building built up of fragments of old ones; ex- 
tend this back into the ages and the comparison is complete. 

Development, balance, degeneration. — It is probable tliat none of our 
organs are absolutely static and that the apparent halt in the develop- 
ment of some is merely relative, as where a fast train glasses a slow one. 
The numerous cases of arrested evolution in nature are always con- 
nected with fixity of environment, an exceptional condition with man, 
and we have ample evidence that some organs are changing more rap- 
idly than others. 

Adaptation to our changing circumstances is mainly effected by the 
simultaneous development and degeneration of organs which lie side 
by side, as in the muscles of the foot or hand; in terms of physiology, 

* Disadvantages of tlie Upiiglit Position, ai'tic]<> in American Xaturalist, January', 
1884, vol. xviii. p. 1. 

tThe remarkable skulls and skeletons which have recently been discovered at 
8py remove all doubts as to the normal, i.e., racial character of the famous Nean- 
derthal skull, which were entertained by Quatrefages and others. See Fraipont 
and Lohest, Archives de Biolof/ie, 1887, p. 697. 

tThis is an epidermal or twitching muscle in the quadrupeds. 


we observe the liypi'rti()i)liy of adaptive oii;aiisaii(l atioi)hy of iiiadai)- 
tive or useless organs. Thiscoiiiix'iisatingre-adjustmciit, whereby tiie 
Slim of imti'itioii to any region remains the same (hiring- re-distribution 
to its parts, may be called metatrophism. It is the " gerrymauder " i)rin- 
ciple in nature. 

In practical investigation it is >'ery dithcult in many cases to deter- 
mine whether an orgau is actually develo}»ing or degenerating at the 
present time, although its variability or tendency to ]U'esent indi- 
vidual anomalies indicates that some change is in ])rogress. I may 
instance the highly variable peroneus tertius muscle (Wood). Tlie rise 
or fall of organs is so constantly associated with tlieir degree of utility 
that in each case the doubt can be removed by a careful analysis of the 
greater oi' less actual service rendered by the i>art in (juestion. Apart 
from tlu^ ({uestion of causation, it is a fixed principle tliat a. ]»art degen- 
erating by disuse in each individual will also be found degenerating in 
the lace. 

Degeneration is an extremely slo^v proc(\ss; botliinthe muscular and 
skeletal systems we find oigans sf> far on the down grade that they are 
meie pensioners of the body, drawing pa.\' (/. c.^ mitrition) for past hon- 
orable services without performing any corresponding work — the plan- 
taris and pabnaris muscles for exani])le. ( )f course an organ without a 
function is a, disadvantage, so that the tinal duty of degeneration is to 
restore the balance between structure and function, by placing it liors 
df comhdt entirely. One symptom of decline is variability, in which the 
organ seems to be (lemonstratiug its own uselessness by occasional 
absence. As Humphrey remarks: "The muscles which are most fre- 
quently absent by anomalies are in fact those which can disappear with 
least inconvenience, eitlu^r because they can be re])laced by others or 
because they play an altogether secondary role in the organism.'' The 
stages downward are gradual ; the rudiment becomes variable as an 
adult structure, then as a fcetal structure; the ])ercentage of absence 
slowly increases until it re-ai)pears only as a reversion; linally the 
part ceases even to revert and all record of it is lost. This long strug- 
gle of the destructive power of degeneration, which you see is essen- 
tially an adaptive factor, against the protecti\'e power of heredity is 
the most striking feature of the law of repetition. (See Galton's simi- 
lar princi))h' of regression in anthropology.) 

A careful study of our develoi)iug, degenerating, rudimental, and 
reversional organs am])ly demonstrates that man is now in a state of 
evolution hardly less lapid. I believe, than that which has jn'oduced 
the modern horse from his small five-toed ancestor. As far as I can 
see, the only reason why our <'voluti(m should be slower than that of 
the ancient horse is the fre(|uent intermingling of races, which always 
temls to resolve types which have spc('ialized into more generali/ed 
types. Wherever the human sp(>cies has been isolated foi- a long jieriod 
of time, divergence of character is very marked, as will be seen in some 
of the races I refer to below. 


To lighten the loug catalogue of facts, gathered from many authors, 
I shall frequently allude to habit, but will ask you to consider it for the 
time as associational rather than causal. Pouchet says: "Man is a 
creature of the writing table, and could only have been invented in a 
country in which covering of the feet is universal;" he should have 
added the "eating table." From the average man our fashions and 
occupations demand the play of the forearm and hand, the independent 
and complex movements of the thumb and finger; the outward turning 
of the foot in walking. These are some of the most conspicuous features 
of modern habit. 

The skeletal variations* — In a most valuable essay by Arthur Thom- 
son upon "The Influence of Postiue on the Form of the Articular Sur- 
faces of the Tibia and Astragalus in the Different Eaces of Man and 
the Higher Apes,"t we find clearly brought out the distinction between 
congenital variations and tliose which may be acquired by prolonged 
habits of life. It is perfectly clear from this investigation that certain 
racial characters, such as " platycnemism " or flattened tibia, which 
have been considered of great importance in anthropology, may prove 
to be merely individual modifications due to certain local and temporary 
customs. Thomson's conclusions are that the tibia is the most variable 
in length and form of any long bone in the body. Platycnemia is most 
frequent in tribes living by hunting and climbing in hilly countries, 
and is associated with the strong development of the tibialis posticus. 
The great c<mvexity of the external condyloid surface of the tibia in 
savage races appears to be developed during life by the frequent or 
habitual knee flexure in squatting; it is less developed where the tibia 
has a backward curve, and is independent of platycnemia. Another 
product of the s(iuatting habit is a facet formed upon the neck of the 
astragalus by the tibia. This is very rare in Europeans; it is found in 
the gorilla and oraug, but rarely in the chimpanzee. We must there- 
fore be on our guard to distinguish between congenital or hereditary 
skeletal characters which are fundamental, and "acquired" skeletal 
variations which may not be hereditary. The latter are of question- 
able value in tracing lines of descent, if not actually misleading; on 
the other hand, the teeth, as shown by Cope in his essay on "Lemurine 
reversion in human dentition," have distinct racial patterns and are 
reliable indices of consanguinity, because their form can not be modified 

during life. 

The main features of present evolution in the backbone are the elab- 
oration of the spines of the cervical vertebra?, the increase of the spinal 
curvatures, the shortening of the centra of the lumbar vertebrae and 

*For recent general articles, see Blaucliard, ^'L'Atavisme chez rHomrae," Bev. de 
Anthro})., 1885, p- -l^B; and Baker, ''The Ascent of Man," Proceeding.^ of the American 
Associatioi) for the Advancement of Science, 1800. Also, Smithsonian Reim-t for 1890, p. 


\ Journal of Anatomy and PhysioJocju, 1889, p. 017. 


shifting- of the pelvis upwaicL wlieiel).\ a lumbar vertebra is acbled to 
the sacrum and subtracted iVoni the dorso-luinbar series. 

Cuimiughani has found that the division of the neural s[)iiies in the 
upper cervical vertebra' distinj;uislies the ]ii.i>her races from the h)wer.* 
The si)ine of tiie axis is always biHd, but the spines of the cervicals 
three, four, and live, are also, as a iiile, bitid in the European, Mhile 
they are single in tlie lower races. The same author shows that the 
bodies of the lumbar vertebi;e are altering, by wjdeninj;' and shorten- 
ing, to form a tii'inei- ])illar of support, with a com|)(Misating increase in 
the length of tiie inteiverteltral cartilages.t In the child, the vertebra*, 
inesent more nearly their primitive elongate compressed form. With 
this is associated an increase of the forward lumbar curvature (Tur- 
ner);! the piimitive (/. r., Simian) curve was backward: even in the 
negroes the collecti^"e measurement of the posterior faces of the live 
lumbars is greater than the anterior, in the proportion of KM) to 100; 
whereas in tlie white the collective anterior faces exceed tlu' ]»osterior 
in nearly the same i)roportion — 100 to 9(5. 

The lower region of the back is also the seat of one of tlie most inter- 
esting and imi)ortant of the ciumges in the body, namely, the correlated 
evolution of the inferior ribs, the lumbar vertebra', and the pelvis, — to 
which cnd)ryology, adult and com]»arative anaton\y, ami reversion all 
contribute their ipiota (»f proof In most of the anthropoid aj»es, and 
therefoi-e presumably in th<' pro-anthropos, theie were thirteen com- 
plete ribs and four lumbar \-ertel)ra', while man has tweh'c ribs and 
live lumbais. Thus we luay consider the superior lund)ar of adult 
man as a ribless dorsal: not so in the hunuin embryo, however, for 
Rosenberg^ has found a cartilaginous I'udiment of the inissing thir- 
teenth ril) upon the so-caHed first ]und)ar. Atavism contributes an 
earlier chapter in tlie histor\' of this ivgion, for llirmingham || reports, 
out of fifty cases examined in one year, two in which there were six 
lumbars, and in each the thirteenth rib was well developed: this is an 
interesting example of "correlated revei'sion," for as the jtchis shifted 
downward to its ancestral })ositi(/ii u])on the twenty-sixth vertebra, 
the thirteenth rib was also restored. The other ribs are in what the 
ancients styled a "state of tlux;" our eighth rib has been so recently 
floated from the sternum that, and according to ('uiiniiigliam,*] it re- 
verts as a true rib in twenty cases out of a hundred, showing a decided 
preference for the right si(h'. IJegarding also tlu' occasional fusion of 
the iittli lumbar with the sacrum and the unstable condition of the 
twelfth rib, which is by variation rudimentary or absent, Koseiiberg 
makes bold to i)redict that in the man of the future the ])elvis will shift 
another step U])ward to the twenty fourth Aertebra'. and we shall tlK'ii 

■ Joiiriuil of Anatomi/ and J'tiiiniolofin, ^ Morph. Jahrh., ISTl!. 

1886, p. 63(5. ||./o»r//«/ of Anafovui (iiid ]'lii/si<ilo<iy, 

i Ibid., 1890. p. 117. 18!»1. p. 526. 

tibid, 1887, p. 473. H Ibid., 1890, j). 127. 


lose our twelfth rib. The upright position, aud coasequeut transfer of 
the weight of the abdominal viscera to the pelvis, may be considered 
the habit associated with this reduction of the chest; at all events, in 
the evolution of quadrux)eds there is a constant relation of increase be- 
tween the size of the posterior ribs and the weight of the viscera, until 
the rib-bearing vertebra' rise to twenty and the lumbars are reduced 
to three.* It would be interesting to note the condition of the ribs in 
some of the large-bellied tribes of Africans in reference to this point. 

The coccyx has naturally been the center of active search for the 
missing flexible caudals. As is well known, the adult coccyx contains 
but from three to five centers, while the embryo contains from five to 
six. Dr. Max Bartels has made "Die geschwiinzten Menschen" the 
subject of an exhaustive memoir upon cases of tlie reversion of the 
tail, while Testut records all the i)rimitive tail j