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NOVEMBER, 1877, TO APRIL, 1878. 

D. A P P LET 0 N ...\. 
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I PAN Y , 
549 & 551 BROAD\VAY. 







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NOVEMBER, 1877. 





F E"V persons care to study logic, because everybody conceives 
himself to be proficient enough in the art of reasoning already. 
But I observe that this satisfaction is limited to one's own ratiocina- 
tion, and does not extend to that of other men. 
'Ve corne to the full possession of our power of drawing infer- 
ences the last of all our faculties, for it is not so much a natural gift 
as a long and difficult art. The history of its practice ,vould make a 
grand subject for a book. The mediæval schoolmen, following the 
Romans, ,nade logic the earliest of a boy's studies after gralllmar, as 
being very easy. So it 'was, as they understood it. Its fundamental 
principle, according to them, ,vas, that all knowledge rests on either 
authority or reason; but that whatever is deduced by reason depends 
ultimately on a prenlise 'derived froln authority. Accordingly, as 
soon as a boy was perfect in the syllogistic procedure, his intellectual 
kit of tools was held to be cOluplete. 
To Roger Bacon, that remarkable mind who in tbe lniddle of t})e 
thirteenth century was almost a scientific man, the schoolmen's con- 
ception of reasoning appeared only an obstacle to truth. He sa"T 
that experience alone teaches anything-a proposition which to us 
seems easy to understand, because a distinct conception of experience 
has been handed down to us. fron1 former generations; which to hin1 
also seemed perfectly clear, because its difficulties bad not yet un- 
folded thelnselves. Of all kinds of experience, the best, he thought, 
was interior illumination, which teaches many things about Nature 



w.hich the external senses could never discover, such as the transub- 
stantiation of bread. 
Four centuries later, the more celebrated Bacon, in the first book 
of his "N ovum Organum," gave his clear account of experience as 
something which must be open to verification and reëxamination. 
But, superior as Lord Bacon's conception is to earlier notions, a mod- 
ern reader who is not in awe of his grandiloquence is chiefly struck 
by the inadequacy of his view of scientific procedure. That we have 
only to make some crude experiments, to draw up briefs of tlle re- 
sults in certain blank forms, to go through these by rule, checking 
off everything disproved and setting down the alternatives, and that 
thus in a few years physical science would 
 finished up-what an 
idea! "He wrote on science like a Lord Chancellor," indeed. 
The early scientists, Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, I\:epler, Galil
and Gilbert, had methods more like those of their modern brethren. 
I\:epler undertook to draw a curve through the places of l\Iars; 1 and 
his greatest service to science was in impressing on men's minds that 
this ,vas the thing to be done if they wished to improve astronomy; 
that they were not to content themselves with inquiring whether 
one system of epicycles was better than another, but that they 'were 
to sit down to the figures and find out what the curve, in truth, was. 
He accomplished this by his incomparable energy and courage, blun- 
dering along in the most inconceivable ,vay (to us), froln one irra- 
tional }lypothesis to another, until, after trying t'\\'"enty-two of these, 
he fell, by the mere exhaustion of his invention, upon the orbit \v hich 
a mind ,veIl furnished with the weapons of modern logic would bave 
tried almost at the outset. 
In the same way, every work of science great enough to be re- 
luembered for a few generations affords some exemplification of the 
defective state of tIle art of reasoning of the time when it was writ- 
ten; and each chief step in science has been a lesson in logic. It ,vas 
so when Lavoisier and his contemporaries took np the study of chen1- 
istry. The old chemist's maxim had been," Lege, lege, lege, labora, 
ora, et relege." Lavoisier's method w
s not to read and pray, not to 
dream that some long and complicated chemical !)rocess ,,"'ould have 
a certain effect, to put it into practice with dull patience, after its in- 
evitable failure to dream tha't with some modification it would have 
another result, and to end by publishing the last dream as a fact: 
his way was to carry his mind into his laboratory, and to make of his 
alembics and cucurbits instruments of thought, giving a new concep- 
tion of reasoning, as something- which was to be done with one's eyes 
open, by manipulating real things instead of words and fancies. 
The Darwinian controversy is, in large part, a question of logic. 
l\Ir. Darwin proposed to apply the statistical method to biology. The 
same thing had been done in a widely different branclî of science, the 
1 Not quite so, but as n
arly so as can be told in a few words. 


theory of gases. Though unable to say ,vhat the movements of any 
varticular molecule of a gas would be on a certain hypothesis regard- 
in cr the constitution of this class of bodies, Clausius and JUaxwell 
were yet able, by the application of the doctrine of probabilities, to 
IJredict that in the long run such and such a proportion of the mole- 
cules would, under given circumstances, acquire such and such veloci- 
ties; that there would take place, every second, such and such a num- 
ber of collisions, etc.; and from these propositions 'v ere able to deduce 
certain properties of gases, especially in regard to their heat-relations. 
In like manner, Darwin, while unable to say ,vhat the operation of 
variation and natural selection in any individual case will be, demon- 
stt"ates that in the long run they will adapt aJ;lin1als to their circum- 
stances. 'Vhether or not existing animal forms are due to such ac- 
tion, or what position the theory ought to take, forms the subject of 
a discussion in which questions of fact and questions of logic are curi- 
ously interlaced. 

The object of reasoning is to find out, from the consideration of 
what we already know, something else ,vhich we do not know. Con- 
sequently, reasoning is good if it be such as to give a true conclusion 
from true premises, and not other,vise. Thus, the question of its 
validity is purely one of fact and not of thinking. A being the 
premises and B the conclusion, the question is, whether tbese facts 
are really so related that if A is B is. If so, the inference is valid; 
if not, not. It is not in the least the question ,vhether, when the 
IJremises are accepted by the mind, we feel an impulse to accept the 
cOllelusion also. It is true that we do generally reason correctly by 
nature. But that is an accident; the true conclusion would remain 
true if we had no impulse to accept it; and the false one would re- 
main false, though we could not resist the tendency to belieye in it. 
'Ve are, doubtless, in the main logical animals, but we are not 
perfectly so. 
iost of us, for example, are naturally more sanguine 
and hopeful than logic would justify. We seem to be so constituted 
that in the absence of any facts to go upon we are happy and self- 
satisfied; so that the effect of experience is continually to contract 
our hopes and aspirations. Yet a lifetime of the application of this 
corrective does not usually eradicate our sanguine disposition. ""'-bere 
hope is unchecked by any experience, it is likely that our optimism is 
extravagant. Logicality in regard to practical matters is tbe most 
useful quality an aninlal can possess, and migbt:J therefore, result from 
tbe action of natural selection; but outside of these it is probably of 
more ad vantage to the animal to have his mind filled with pleasing 
and encouraging visions, independently of their truth; and thus, 
upon unpractical subjects, natural selection nlight occasion a falla- 
cious tendency of thought. 



That which determines us, from given premises, to dray; one in- 
ference rather than another, is some habit of mind, ,,,hether it be con- 
stitutional or acquired. The hahit is good or otherwiE>e, according as 
it produces true conclusions froin true prenlises or not; and an infer- 
ence is regarded as valid or not, without reference to the truth or fal- 
sity of its conclusion specially, Lut according as the habit which 
determines it is such as to produce true conclusiolls in general or not. 
The particular habit of mind which governs this or that inference 
may be formulated in a proposition ,vhose truth depends on the va- 
lidity of the inferences which the habit determines; and such a for- 
mula is called a guiding prÙwiple of inference. Suppose, for example, 
that we observe that a rotating disk of cOppQJ." quickly comes to rest 
'when placed between the poles of a magnet, and we infer that this 
"Win happen with every disk of copper. The guiding principle is, tl)at 
what is true of one piece of copper is true of another. Such a guid- 
ing principle with regard to copper would be much safer than with 
regard to many other substances-brass, for exanlple. 
A book might be written to signalize all the most important of 
these guiding IH'inciples of reasoning. It ,,"ould probably be, "We 
must confess, of no service to a person whose thought is directed 
wholly to practical subjects, and whose activity moves along thor- 
oughly-beaten paths. The })roblenls which present themselves to 
such a mind are matters of routine which he bas learned once for 
all to handle in learning his business. But let a man venture into an 
unfamiliar field, or ,vhere his results are not continually checked hy 
experience, and all history sbows tbat the most masculine intellect 
,vill ofttimes lose his orientation and waste his efforts in directions 
which bring him no nearer to his goal, or even carry him entirely 
astray. lie is like a ship in the open sea, with no one on board who 
understands the rules of navigation. And in such a case some gen- 
eral study of the guiding principles of reasoning would be sure to be 
found useful. 
The subject could hardly be treated, hO\,\Tever, without being first 
limited; since almost any fact may serve as a guiding princil,le. 
But it so happens 
bat th
re exists a division among facts, such tha
il,l one class are all those which are absolutely essential as guiding 
principles, while in the others are all which have any other interest as 
objects of research. This division is between those which are neces- 
sarily taken for granted in asking whether a certain conclusion fol- 
lows from certain premises, and those which are not implied in that 
question. A mornent's thought will show tbat a variety of facts are 
already assumed when the logical question is first asked. It is im- 
plied, for instance, that there are such states of mind as doubt and 
belief-that a passage fr01n one to tbe other is possible, the object. of 
tbought remaining the same, and tbat this transition is subjeC't to 
some rules which all minds are alike bound by. As these are facts 


which we must already know before we can have any clear concep- 
tion of reasoning at all, it cannot be suppoEed to be any longer of 
much interest to inquire into their truth or falsity. On the other 
hand, it is easy to believe that those I'ules of reasoning which are 
deduced from the very idea of the process are the ones ,vhich are the 
most essential; and, indeed, that so long as it conforms to these it 
will, at least, not lead to false conclusions from true premises. In 
l)oint of fact, the ilnportance of what may be deducerl from the as- 
sumptions involved in the logical question turns out to be greater 
than might be supposed, and this for reasons which it is difficult to 
exhibit at the outset. The only one which I shall here mention is, 
that conceptions which arc really products of logical reflection, with- 
out being readily seen to be so, mingle with our ordinary tboughts, 
anJ are frequently the causes of great confusion. This is the case, 
for example, with the conception of quality. A quality as such is 
never an object of observation. 'Ve can see that a thing is blue or 
green, but the quality of being blue and tbe quality of being green 
are not things ,vhich we see; they are products of logical reflection. 
The truth is, that common-sense, or thought as it first emerges above 
the level of the narrowly practical, is deeply imbued with that bad 
logical quality to which the epithet 'J11etaphysical is commonly applied; 
'lnd nothing can clear it up but a severe course of logic. 

"T e generally know when we ,vish to ask a question and when we 
wish to })ronounce a judgment, for tbere is a dissimilarity between tbe 
sensation of doubting and that of believing. 
But this is not all which distinguishes doubt from belief. There is 
a practical difference. Our beliefs guide our desires and shape our 
actions. The Assassins, or followers of the Old JUan of the l\fountain, 
used to rush into death at his least command, because they believed 
that obedience to him ,vould insure everlasting felicity. Had they 
doubted this, they would not ha,re acted as they did. So it is with 
every belief, according to its degree. . The feeling of believing is a 
more or less sure indication of there being established in our nature 
some habit which will determine our actions. Doubt never has such 
an effect. 
N or must .we overlook a third point of difference. Doubt is an un- 
easy and dissatisfied state from which 'we struggle to free ourselves 
and pass into the state of belief; while the latter is a calm and satis- 
factory state ,vhich we do not wish to avoid, or to change to a belief 
in anything else/ On the contrary, ,ye cling tenaciously, not merely 
to believing, but to believing just ,vhat we do believe. 
1 I am not speaking of secondary effects occasionally produced by the interference 
of other impulses. 



Thus, both doubt and belief have positive effects upon us, though 
very different ones. Belief does not make us act at once, but puts us 
into such a condition that .we shall behave in a certain way, when the 
occasion arises. Doubt has not the least effect of this sort but stim- 
ulates us to action until it is destroyed. This reminds us of the irri- 
tation of a nerve and the reflex action produced thereby; ,vhile for 
the analogue of belief, in the nervous system, 'we must look to what 
are called nervous associations-for example, to that habit of the 
nerves in consequence of which the smell of a peach will make the 
mouth water. 

The irritation of doubt causes a struggle t<> attain a state of belief. 
I shall term this struggle inquiry, though it must be admitted that 
this is sometimes not a very apt designation. 
The irritation of doubt is the only immediate motive for the strug- 
gle to attain belief. It is certainly best for us that our beliefs should 
be such as may truly guide our actions so as to satisfy our desires; 
and this reflection willlllake us reject any belief which does not seem 
to have been so formed as to insure this result. But it will only do so 
by creating a doubt in the place of that belief. With the doubt, 
therefore, the struggle begins, and with the cessation of doubt it ends. 
Hence, the sole object of inquiry is the settlement of opinion. 'Ve 
may fancy that this is not enough for us, and that we seek, not merely 
an opinion, but a true opinion. But put this fancy to the test, and it 
proves groundless; for as soon as a firm belief is reached we are en- 
tirely satisfied, whether the belief be true or false. And it is clear 
that nothing out of the sphere of our knowledge can be our object, for 
nothing which does not affect the mind can be the motive for a mental 
effort. The most that can be maintained is, that we seek for a belief 
that we shall think to be true. But we think each one of our beliefs 
to be true, and, indeed, it is mere tautology to say so. 
That the settlement of opinion is the sole end of inquiry is a very 
important proposition. It sweeps a-way, at once, various vague and 
erroneous conceptions of proof. A few of these may be noticed here. 
1. Some philosophers have imagined that to start an inquiry it 
was only necessary to utter a question or set it down upon paper, and 
have C"ven reçommended us to begin our studies with questioning 
everytldng! But the mere putting of a proposition into the interrog- 
ative form does not stimulate the mind to any struggle after belief. 
There must be a real and living doubt, and without this alI discussion 
is idle. 
2. It is a very common idea that a demonstration must rest on 
some ultimate and absolutely indubitable propositions. These, ac- 
cording to one scl1001, are first principles of a general nature; accord- 
ing to another, are first sensations. But, in point of fact, an inquiry, 


to have that completely satisfactory result called demonstration, has 
only to start with propositions perfectly free from all actual doubt. 
If the premises are not in fact doubted at all, they cannot l)e more 
satisfactory than they are. 
3. Some people seen1 to love to argue a point after all the world is 
fully convinced of it. But no further advance can be made. When 
doubt ceases, mental action on the subject comes to an end; and, if it 
did go on, it would be without a purpose. · 


If the settlement of opinion is the sole object of inquiry, and if 
belief is of the nature of a habit, why should we not attain tbe desired 
end, by taking any answer to a question which we may fancy, and 
constantly reiterating it to ourselves, dwelling on all wLich may con- 
duce to that belief, and learning to turn with contempt and hatred 
from anything which might disturb it? This simple and direct 
method is really pursued by many men. I remember once being en- 
treated not to read a certain newspaper lest it might change my 
opinion upon free-trade. " Lest I might be entrapped by its fallacies 
and misstatements," was the form of expression. " You are not," my 
friend said, "a special student of political economy. You might, 
therefore, easily be deceived by fallacious arguments upon the subject. 
, You might, then, if you read this paper, be led to be1ieve in }Jrotec- 
tion. But you admit that free-trade is the true doctrine; and you do 
not wish to believe what is not true." I bave often known this sys- 
tem to be deliberately adopted. Still oftener, the instinctive dislike 
of an undecided state of mind, exaggerated into a vague dread of 
doubt, makes men cling spasmodically to the views they already take. 
The man feels that, if he only bolds to his belief without wavering, it 
will be entirely satisfactory. Nor can it be denied that a steady and 
immovable faith yields great peace of mind. It may, indeed, give rise 
to inconveniences, as if a man should resolutely continue to believe 
that fire would not burn him, or that he would be eternally damned 
if he received his ingesta otherwise than through a stomach-pump. 
But then the man who adopts this method will not allow that its in- 
conveniences are greater than its advantages. He will say, "I holel 
steadfastly to the truth, and the truth is al
ays wholesolllc." And in 
many cases it may very well be tbat the pleasure he derives from bis 
calm faith overhalances any inconveniences resulting from its decep- 
tive chm'acter. Thus, if it be true that death is annihilation, then the 
man who believes that he will certainly go straight to heaven when 
he dies, provided he have fulfilled certain simple observances in this 
life, has a cheap pleasure ,vhich will not be followed by the least dis- 
appointment. A similar consideration seems to have weigl)t with 
many persons in religious topics, for we frequently bear it said, " Oh, 



I could not believe so-and-so, because I should be "wretched if I did." 
When an ostrich buries its head in the sand as danger approaches, it 
very likely takes the happiest course. It hides the danger, and then 
calmly says there is 110 danger; and, if it feels perfectly surc thcre is 
none, why should it raise its head to see? A man may go through 
life, systematically keeping out of view all tbat might cause a change 
in his opinions, and if he only succeeds-basing his method, as he 
<.loes, on two fundamental psychological laws-I do not see what can 
be said against his doing so. It would be an egotistical impertinence 
to object that his procedure is irrational, for that only amounts to 
saying that his method of settling belief is not ours. He does not 
propose to himself to be rational, and, indeed, ,,
ill often talk with 
scorn of man's weak and illusive reason. So let him think as he 
But this method of fixing belief, ,,"I1Ïch may be caned the method 
of tenacity, will be unable to hold its ground in practice. The social 
impulse is against it. The man ,vho adopts it will find that other men 
think differently from him, and it will be apt to occur to hilll, in some 
saner moment, tbat their opinions are quite as good as his o,vn, and 
this will shake his confidence in bis belief. This conception, that an- 
other man's thought- or sentiment may be equivalent to one's own, is 
a distinctly new step, and a highly important one. It arise"s from an 
impulse too strong in man to be suppressed, without danger of destroy- 
ing the human species. Unless we make ourselves hermits, we shall 
necessarily influence each other's opinions; so that the problem be- 
comes how to fix belief, not in tbe individual merely, but in the com- 
Let the will of the state act, then, instead of that of the individual. 
Let an institution be created which shall have for its object to keep 
correct doctrines before tbe attention of the people, to reiterate them 
perpetually, and to teach them to the young; having at the same time 
power to lu'event contrary doctrines from being taught, adyocated, 
or expressed. Let all})ossible causes of a change of mind be removed 
fl'om men's apprehensions. Let them be kept ignorant, lest tlley 
should learn of some reason to think otherwise than they do. Let 
their passions be enlisted, so that they may regard private and unusual 
opinions with hatred and horror. Then, let all men who reject the 
established belief be terrified into silence. Let the people turn out 
and tar-and-feather such men, or let inquisitions be made into the 
manner of thinking of suspectecl persons, and, when they are found 
guilty of forbiùden beliefs, let them be subjected to some signal 
l)unishment. When complete agreement could not otherwise be 
reached, a general massacre of all who have not thought in a certain 
way has proved a very effective means of settling opinion in a coun- 
try. If the power to do this be wanting, let a list of opinions be 
drawn up, to which no man of the least independence of thought can 


assent, and let the faithful be required to accept all these propositions, 
in order to segregate them as radically as possible from the influence 
of the rest of the world. 
This method has, from the earliest times, been one of the chief 
means of upholding correct theological and political doctrines, and 
of preserving their universal or catholic character. In Rome, espe- 
cially, it has been practised from the days of N uma Pompilius to 
those of Pius N onus. This is the most perfect example in history; 
but wherever there is a priesthood-and no religion has been without 
one-this method has been more or less n1ade use of. 'Vherever 
there is an aristocracy, or a guild, or any association of a class of 
men whose interests. depend or are supposed to depend on certain 
propositions, there will be inevitably found some traces of this natu- 
ral product of social feeling. Cruelties always accompany this sys- 
tern; and when it is consistently carried out, they become atrocities 
of the most horrible kind in the eyes of any rational luan. Nor 
should this occasion surprise, for the officer of a society does not feel 
justified in surrendering the interests of that society for the sake of 
mercy, as he might his own private intel'ests. It is natuJ;al, there- 
fore, that sympathy and fellowship should thus produce a most ruth- 
less power. 
In judging this method of fixing belief, which may be called tbe 
method of authority, we must, in the first place, allow its immeasur- 
able lnental and moral superiority to the method of tenacity. Its 
success is proportionately gréater; and, in fact, it has over and over 
again worked the most majestic results. The mere structures of 
stone which it has caused to be put together-in Siam, for example, 
in Egypt, and in Europe-have many of them a sublimity hardly 
more than rivaled by the greatest works of Nature. And, except 
the geological epochs, there are no periods of time so vast as those 
which are measured by some of these organized faiths. If we scru- 
tinize the matter closely, we shall find that there bas not been one 
of their creeds which l)as remained always the same; yet the change 
is so slow as to be imperceptible during one person's life, so that 
individual belief remains sensibly fixed. For the mass of mankind, 
then, there is. perhaps no better method than this. If it is their 
highest impulse to be intellectual slaves, then slaves tbey ought to 
But no institution can undertake to regulate opinions upon every 
subject. Only the most important ones can be attended to, and on 
the rest men's minds must be left to the action of natural causes. 
This imperfection will he no source of weaknesR so long as men are in 
such, a state of culture that one opinion does not influence another- 
that is, so long as they cannot pnt two and two together. nut in the 
most priestric1den states some individuals win be found who arc 
raised above that condition. These men possess a wider sort of social 



feeling; they see that men in other countries and in other ages have 
held to very different doctrines from those which they themselvfls 
have been brought up to believe; and they cannot belp seeing tbat it 
is the mere accident of their ba\ying been taught as they bave, and 
of their having been surrounded with the manners and associations 
they have, that has caused them to believe as they do and not far 
differently. And their candor cannot resist tbe reflection that there 
is no reason to rate their own views at a higher value tlJ3n those 
of other nations and other centuries; and this gives rise to doubts in 
their minds. 
They will further perceive tbat such doubts as these must exist · 
in their minds with reference to every belief which seems to be deter- 
mined by the caprice eitlJer of themselve"'s or of those ,vho origi- 
nated the popular opinions. The willful adherence to a belief, and 
the arbitrary forcing of it upon others, must, therefore, both be given 
up, and a new method of settling opinions must be adopted, which 
shall not only produce an impulse to believe, but shall also decide 
what proposition it is which is to be believed. Let the action of nat- 
ural preferences be unimpeded, then, and under their influence let men, 
conversing together and regarding matters in different lights, grad- 
ually develop beliefs in harmony with natural causes. This method 
resembles that by which conceptions of art have been brought to ma- 
turity. The most })erfect example of it is to be found in the history 
of metaphysical philosophy. Systems of this sort have not usually 
rested upon any observed facts, at least not in any great degree. 
They have been chiefly adopted because their fundamental proposi- 
tions seemed "agreeable to reason." This is an apt expression; it 
does Dot mean that which agrees with experience, but that which we 
find ourselves inclined to be1ieve. Plato, for example, finds it agree- 
able to reason that the distances of the celestial spheres from one an- 
other should be proportional to tbe different lengths of strings which 
produce harmonious chords. l\Iany })hilosophers have been led to 
their main conclusions by considerations like this; but tbis is the 
lowest and least developed form 'which the method takes, for it is 
clear that another man might find I{epler's theory, that the celestial 
spheres are proportional to the inscribed and circumscribed spheres 
of the different regular solids, more agreeable to his reason. But the 
shock of opinions will soon lead men to rest on preferences of a far 
more universal nature. Take, for example, the doctrine tbat man only 
acts selfishly-that is, from the consideration that acting in one way 
will afford him more pleasure than acting in another. This rests on 
no fact in the world, but it has bad a wide acceptance as being tbe 
only reasonable theory. 
This method is far more intellectual and respectable from the point 
of view of reason than either of the others which we have noticed. 
But its failure has heen the most manifest. It makes of inquiry 


something similar to the development of taste; but taste, unfortu- 
nately, is always more or less a matter of fashion, and accordingly 
metaphysicians have never come to any fixed agreement, but tbe pen- 
dulum has s\vung backward and forward between a more material 
and a more spiritual philosophy, froIn the earliest times to the latest. 
And so from this, which has been caUed the ct priori method, we are 
driven, in Lord Bacon's phrase, to a true induction. 1Ve have ex- 
amined into this a priori method as sometbing which promised to 
deliver our opinions from their accidental and capricious element. 
But development, while it is a process which eliminates the effect 
of some casual circumstances, only magnifies that of others. This 
method, therefore, does not differ in a very essential way from that of 
authority. The government may not have lifted its finger to influ- 
ence my convictions; I may have been left outwardly quite free to 
choose, we will say, between monogamy and polygamy, and, appeal- 
ing to my conscience only, I may have concluded that the latter prac- 
tice is in itself licentious. But when I come to see that the chief 
obstacle to the spread of Cbristianity among a people of as high cult- 
ure as the Hindoos has been a conviction of the immorality of our 
way of treating women, I cannot belp seeing that, though govern- 
ments do not interfere, sentiments in their developmflnt ,viU be very 
greatly determined by accidental causes. Now, there are some peo- 
pIc, among whom I must suppose that my reader is to be found, ,vho, 
when they see that any belief of theirs is determined by any circum- 
stance extraneous to the facts, wiU from that moment not merely 
admit in words that that belief is doubtful, but wiU experience a real 
doubt of it, so that it ceases to be a belief. 
To satisfy our doubts, therefore, it is necessary that a method 
should be found by which our beliefs may be caused by nothing hu- 
man, but by some external permanency-by something upon which 
our thinking has no effect. Sonle mystics imagine that they have 
snch a method in a private inspiration from on high. But that is 
only a form of the method of tenacity, in ,vhich the conception of 
truth as something public is not yet developed. Our external perma- 
nency ,vould not be external, in our sense, if it was restricted in its 
influence to one individual. It must be something which affects, or 
might affect, every man. .A.nd, though these affections are necessarily 
as various as are individual conditions, yet the method must be such 
that the ultimate conclusion of every man shall be the sanlC. Such is 
the method of science. Its fundamental hypothesis, restated in more 
familiar language, is this: There are real things, whose characters 
are entirely independent of our opinions about them; those realities 
affect our senses according to regular laws, and, though our sensa- 
tions are as different as our relations to the objects, yet, by taking 
advantage of the la-w's of perception, ".e can ascertain by reasoning 
how things really are, and any man, if he have sufficient experience 



and reason enough about it, will be led to the one true conclusion. 
The new conception here involved is tbat of reality. It may be asked 
how I know that there are any realities. If this hypothesis is the 
sole support of my metl.od of inquiry, my method of inquiry must 
not be used to support my hypothesis. T,he reply is this: 1. If in- 
vestigation cannot be regarded as l)roving that there are real things, 
it at least does not lead to a contrary conclusion; but the method 
and the conception on which it is based remain ever in harmony. No 
doubts of the method, therefore, necessarily arise from its practice, 
as is the case ,vith all the others. 2. The feeling which gives rise to 
any method of fixing belief is a dissatisfaction at two repugnant 
propositions. But here already is a vague 
oncession that there is 
some one thing to ,vhich a proposition should conform. Nobody, 
therefore, can reall y doubt that there are realities or if he did 
" , 
doubt would not be a source of dissatisfaction. The hypothesis, 
therefore, is one which every mind admits. So that the social im- 
pulse does not cause me to doubt it. 3. Everybody uses the scien- 
tific method about a great many things, and only ceases to use it 
when be does not know how to apply it. 4. Experience of the method 
has not led Ine to doubt it, but, on the contrary, scientific inves- 
tigation has had the most wonderful triumphs in the way of set- 
tling opinion. These afford the explanation of my not doubting the 
method or the hypothesis which it supposes; and not having any 
doubt, nor believing that anybody else whom I could influence has, 
it would be the merest Labble for me to say more about it. If 
tl)ere be anybody with a living doubt upon the subject, let him con- 
sider it. 
To describe the method of scientific investigation is the object of 
this Reries of papers. At present I have only room to notice some 
points of contrast between it and other methods of fixing belief. 
This is the only one of the four methods which presents any dis- 
tinction of a right and a wrong way. If I adopt the method of 
tenacity and shut myself out from all influences, wl)atever I think 
necessary to doing this is necessary according to that method. 
So .with the method of authority: the state may try to put down 
heresy by means which, from a scientific point of view, seem very ill- 
calculated to accon1plisb its purposes; but the only test on that 'Jneth- 
od is what the state thinks, so that it cannot pursue the method 
wrongly. So with the a prim'i method. The very essence of it is to 
think as one is inclined to think. All metaphysicians w-ill be sure to 
do tl)at, however they may be inclined to judge each otl)er to be per- 
versely wrong. The Hegelian system recognizes every natural tfln- 
dency of thought as logical, although it be certain to be abolished by 
counter-tendencies. Hegel thinks there is a regular systenl in the 
succession of these tendencies, in consequence of which, after drifting 
one .way and the other for a long time, opinion win at last go right. 


And it is true that metaphysicians get the right ideas at last; IIegel's 
systenl of Nature represents tolerably the science of that day; and 
one n1ay be sure that whatever scientific investigation has put out of 
doubt will presently receive ((; priori demonstration on the part of 
the metaphysicians. But with the scientific method the case is dif- 
ferent. I may start with known aud observed facts to proceed to 
the unknown; and yet the rules which I follow in doing so may not 
be such as investigation would approve. The test of whether I am 
truly folJo,ving the method is not an imn1ediate appeal to my feelings 
and purposes, but, on the contrary, itself involves the application of 
the method. Hence it is that bad reasoning as well as guod reason- 
ing is possible; and this fact is the foundation of the practical side 
of logic. 
It is not to be supposed that the first three metbods of settling 
opinion present no advantage whatever over the scientific m
On the contrary, each has some peculiar convenience of its own. The 
a priori method is distinguished for its cOlllfortable conclusions. It is 
the nature of the process to adopt \vhatever belief \ve are inclined to, 
and there are certain flatteries to the vanity of n1an which we all be- 
lieve by nature, until we are a wakened from our pleasing dream by' 
some rough facts. The method of authority will always govern the 
mass of mankind; and those who wield the various forms of organized 
force in the state win never be convinced that dangerous reasoning 
ought not to be suppressed in some way. If liberty of speech is to 
be untrammeled from the grosser forms of constraint, then uniformity 
of opinion ,vill be secured by a moral terrorism to which the respect- 
ability of society will give its thorough approval. Following the 
Inethod of authority is the path of peace. Certain non-conformities 
are permitted; certain others (considered unsafe) are forbidden. 
These are different in different countries and in different ages; but, 
,vherever you are, let it be known that you seriously hold a tabooed 
belief, and you nlay be perfectly sure of being treated w'ith a cruelty 
less brutal but n10re refined than hunting you like a wolf. Thus, thl" 
greatest intellectual benefactors of mankind have never dareel, and 
dare n0t no,v, to utter the whole of their thought; and thus a shade 
of pri?na facie doubt is cast upon every proposition which is con- 
sidered essential to the security of society. Singularly enoug1), the 
persecution does not all COlne from without; but a man torlnents birn- 
self and is oftentimes most distressed at finding hinlself believing 
propositions which he bas been brougJlt up to regard with ayersion. 
The peaceful and sympathetic man will, therefore, find it hard to resist 
the temptation to suhmit his opinions to authority. But n10st of all 
I admire the method of tenacity tor its strength, sinlplicity, and 
directness. l\Iell ,vho pursue it are distinguished for their decision of 
character, which becomes very easy with such a 111ental rule. They 
do not 'waste tinle in trying to nutkc np their n1Índs ,,-hat they ,vant, 



but, fastening like lightning upon whatever alternative comes first, 
they hold to it to the end, ,vhatever happens, ,vithout an instant's 
irresolution. This is oue of the splendid qualities which generally 
accompany brilliant, unlasting success. It is impossible Dot to envy 
the man who can dismiss reasou, although we know how it must turn 
out at last. 
Such are the advantages which the other methods of settling 
opinion have over scientific investigation. A man should consider 
,yell of them; and then he should consider that, after all, he wishes 
his opinions to coincide ,vith the fact, and that there is no reason why 
the results of these three methods should do so. To bring about tbis 
effect is the prerogative of the method of science. Upon such con- 
siderations he has to n1ake his cboice-a choice ". hich is far more 
than the adoption of any intellectual opinion, which is one of the 
ruling decisions of his life, to whicll, when once made, be is bound to 
adhere. The force of habit will sometin1es cause a man to hold on to 
old beliefs, after he is in a condition to see that they have no sound 
basis. But reflection upon tbe state of the case ,vill overcome these 
habits, and he ought to allow reflection its full weight. People some- 
tilDes shrink from doing this, having an idea that beliefs are whole- 
some which, they cannot help feeling rest on nothing. But let such 
persons suppose an analogous though different case from their own. 
Let them ask themselves what they w'ould say to a reformed l\lussul- 
man who should hesitate to give up his old notions in regard to the 
relations of the sexes; or to a reformed Catholic who should stiU 
shrink from reading the Bible. 'V ould they not say that these per- 
sons ought to consider the matter fully, and clearly understand the 
new doctrine, and then ought to embrace it, in its entirety? But, 
above all, let it be considered that "That is more wholesome than allY 
particular belief is integrity of belie
 and that to avoid looking into 
the support of any belief from a fear that it may turn out rotten is 
quite as immoral as it is disadvantageous. The person who confesses 
that there is such a thing as truth, which is distinguisbed from false- 
hood sin1ply by this, that if acted on it ,vill carry us to the point we 
aim at and not astray, ancl then, though convinced of this, dares Dot 
know the truth and seeks to avoid it, is in a sorry state of mind 
Yes, the other methods do have their merits: a clear logical con- 
 does cost something-just as any virtue, just as all that we 
cherish, costs us dear. But we should not desire it to he otherwise. 
The O'enius of a man's loO'ical method should be loved and reverenced 
ö b 
as his bride, whom he has chosen from all the world. He 11eed not 
contemn tbe others; on tbe contrary, he may honor them deeply, and 
in doing so he only honors her the more. But she is tbe one tbat he 
has chosen, and be kno"
s that he was right in making that choice. 
And havinO' made it he w"ill work and fiaht for her , and will Dot com- 


plain that there are blo,vs to take, hoping that there may be as many 
and as hard to give, and will strive to be the worthy knight and 
champion of her from the blaze of ,vhose splendors he dra,vs his 
inspiration and his courage. 




I : 

,;'1 \ ' 


" ,-;-",


, 4' 
ø,.,." ' 

'\ I.,.... "\


1 This sketch is condensed from lectures originally written for delivery to an audi- 
ence of engineers and mechanics, at the Stevens Institute of Technology, in the winter 
of 1871-'72, and from lectures since prepared for classes in the Department of Mechani- 
cal Engineering, and revised to date. The most novel portion-referring to the practi- 
cal realization of the" perfect steam-engine "- is here more fully developed than it had 
previously been, and the paper, as a whole, is for the first time here published. The 
illustrations are principally from Stuart and Farey, and from the article" Steam-Engine," 
prepared by the writer of these lectures for ApPLETONS' CYCLOPÆDIA, new edition. 
A very complete history of "The Growth of the Steam-Engine" has been prepared by 





[" A machine, receiving at distant times and from many hands new com bi- 
nations and improvements, and becoming at last of signal benefit to mankind, 
may be compared to a rivulet, swelled in its course by tributary streams until 
it rolls along a majestic river, enriching in its progress provinces and kingdoms. 
In retracing the current, too, from where it mingles with the ocean, the pre- 
tensions of even ample subsidiary streams are merged in our admiration of the 
nwster-flood. But, as we continue to ascend, those waters whicL, nearer the 
sea, would llave been disregarded as unimportant, begin to rival in magnitude, 
and divide our attention with, the parent stream; until, at length, on our ap- 
proaching the fountains of the river, it appears trickling from the rock, or ooz- 
ing from among the flowers of the vaHey. So, 
so, in developing the rise of a 
machine, a coarse instrument or a toy may be recognized as the germ of that 
production of mechanical genius whose power and usefulness have stimulated 
our curiosity to mark its changes and to trace its origin. The same feelings of 
reverential gratitude which attached holiness to the spots whence n1ighty riv- 
ers sprung, also clothed with ðivinity, and raised altars in honor of the saw, 
the plough, the potter's wheel, and the ]oom."-STuART.] . 
[. . . . "And, last of all, with inimitable power, and' with whirlwind- 
sound,' comes the potent agency of steam. In comparison with the past, what 
centuries of improvement has this single agent comprised in the short compass 
of fifty years! Everywhere practicable, everywhere efficient, it has fin arm a 
thousand times stronger than that of Hercules, and to wl1Ïch human ingenuity 
is capable of fitting a thousancl times as many hands as belonged to Briareus. 
Steam is found in triumphant operation on the seas; and, under the influence of 
its strong propulsion, the gallant ship- 
e Against the wind, against the tide, 
StiU steadies with an upright keel.' 
It is on the rivers, and the boatman may repose on his oars; it is on highways, 
and exerts itself along the courses of land-conveyance; it is at the bottOln of 
mines, a thousand feet below the earth's surface; it is in the nlill, and in the 
workshops of the trades. It rows, it pumps, it excavates, it carries, it draws, 
it lifts, it hammers, it spins, it weaves, it prints. It seems to say to men, at 
least to the class of artisans: 'Leave off your manual labor; give over your 
bodi1y toil; bestow but your skill and reason to the directing of my power, and 
I will bear the toil, with no muscle to grow weary, no nerve to relax, no breast 
to feel faintness!' What further improvement may still be made in the use of 
this astonishing power it is impossible to know, and it were vain to conjecture. 
What we do know is, that it has most essentially altered the face of affairs, find 
that no visible limit yet appears beyond which its progress is seen to be impos- 
sible." - D A

 I. The Period of Speculation. IIERO TO WORCESTER. 
B. C. 200 to Ä. D. 1700.-1. The history of the steam-engine is 
a subject tbat interests greatly every intelligent mind. . 
As Religion has always been, and still is, the great rnoral agent in 
the same author, and is about to be published, finely illustrated, in the "International 


civilizing tbe world, and as Science is the great intellectual pronlot('r 
of civilization, so the steam-engine is, in nlodern tinIes, the nlost inl- 
portant physical agent in that great work. 
It would be superfluous to attempt to enumerate the benefits 
which it has conferred upon the human race, for such an enumeration 
,vould include an addition to every comfort, and the creation of almost 
every luxury that ,ve now enjoy. 
" It has increasf'd the sum of human happiness, not only by call- 
ing new pleasures into existence, but by so cheapening former enjoy- 
ments as to render thenl attainable by those who before could lleVt'r 
have hoped to Ehare theln." 1 
2. The wonderful progress of the present century is, in a very 
great degree, due to the invention and improvement of the steam-en- 
gine, and to the ingenious application of its power to kinds of work 
that formerly tasked the physical energies of the human race. "Ve 
cannot ex
unine the rnethods and processes of any branch of industry 
,vithont discovering somewhere the assist
lJce and support of this 
wonderful machine. 
Relieving mankind from manual toil, it has left to the intellect 
the privílege of directing the power formerly absorbed in physical 
labor into other and more profitable channels. The intelligence which 
has thus conquered the powers of Nature now finds itself free to do 
brain-work; the force formerly utilized in the carrying of water and 
the hewing of wood is now expended in the Godlike work of thought. 
'Vhat, then, can be more interesting than to trace the history of 
the gro,vth of this wonderful inyention, the greatest among the many 
great creations of one of God's most beneficent gifts to ulan, the power 
of invention. 
3. 'Vhile following the records and traditions of the steam-engine, 
I propose to call to your attention the fact that its history illustrates 
the very important truth that great inventions are never, and great 
discoveries are seldom, the ,vork of anyone mind. 
Every great invention is really an aO'O'reO'ation of minor inv<>n- 
ö::":!. b 
tions, or the final stf'p of a progression. It is not usually a creation
hut a growth, as truly so as is the gro,vth of the trees in tbe forest. 
Hence the S
llne invention is frequently brought out in several 
countries and by several individuals simultaneously. 
Frequently, an in1portant invention is made before the ,vorld i
ready to receive it, ana the unhappy inventor is taught, by his fail- 
ure, that it is as unfortunate to he in advance of t11e age as to be 
behind it. . 
Inventions only l)ecome successful when they are not only needed, 
but whpn mankind is so far advanced in intelligence as to appreciate 
and to express the necessity for thenl, and at once to nlake use of thenl. 
4. About a half-century ago, an ahle New England writer, in a 
1 Dr. Lardner. 

VOL. XII.-2 



communication to an English engineering periodical, described the 
new machinery which 'vas built at Newport, Rhode Island, by J ohl1 
Babcock and Robert L. Thurston, for one of the first steamboats that 
ever ran between that city and New York. He prefaced his descrip- 
tion with a frequently-quoted remark to the effect that, as l\Iinerva 
sprang, mature in mind, in full stature of body, and completely armed, 
from the head of Jupiter, so the steam-engine came forth, perfect at 
its birth, from the brain of James 'Vatt. 
But we shall see, as ,ye examine the records of its history, that, 
although James "r att was an inventor, and probably the greatest of 
the inventors of the steam-engine, he was still but one of tlle nlauy · 
men who have aided in perfecting it, and who have now made us so 
familiar with its tremendous power and its iàcile adaptation to labor, 
that we have almost ceased to adn1Íre it, or to ,vonder at this product 
of the workings of the more adn1Ïrable intelligence that has so far 
perfected it. 
5. T,venty-one centuries ago, the political power of Greece was 
broken, although Grecian civilization had risen to its zenith. 
Rome, ruder than her polished neighbor, "Tas gro\ving continually 
stronger, and was rapidly gaining territory by absorbing weaker 
Egypt, older in civilization than either Greece or Rome, fell but 
two centuries later before the assault of the younger states, and bo- 
c:llne a Roman province. Her principal city was at this time Alex- 
anch-ia, founded by tbe great soldier ,vhose llame it bears when in tbe 
full tide of his prosperity. It had now become a great and prosper- 
ous city, the centre of the commerce of the world, the home of stu- 
dents and of learned nlen, and its population was the ,v('a1thiest and 
nlost civilized of the then known world. 
It is among the relics of this ancient Egyptian civilization that we 
find the first record of the early history of the steam-engine. 
6. In Alexandria, the home of Euclid.. the great geometrician, and 
possihly contemporary with that talented engineer and mathematician 
Archimedes, a learned .wi-iter, Hero, produced a manuscri}Jt which he 
entitled" Spiritalia seu Pneunlatica." 
The ,vork is still extant, and has been several times republished. 
In it are described a nunlber of interesting thoug-h primitive forms 
of water and heat engines, and, among the latter, that shown in Fig. 
2, 1 an apparatus moved by the force of stealTI. 
This earlie
t of steanl-engineg consisted of a globe, a, sn
betwèen trunnions, G L, through one of which stealll enters through 
pipes, C .J.1I, F E, from the hoiler, Ð, below. 
The hollow bent arms, II and I
e the vapor to issue in such a 
direction that the reaction produces a rotary movement of the globe, 
just as the rotation of reactIon water-wheels is produced by outflow- 
ing water. 

1 ride ,v oodcroft's "Translation of Hero." 

f-ENGINE. 19 

It is qnite uncertain whether this nlachine was ever more than a. 
toy, although it has been supposed by some authorities that it was act- 
ually used by the Greek priests for the purpose of l)roducing motion 
of other apparatus in their temples. 

(-: -) . H 


FIG. 2.-HERO'S ENGINE, B. c. 200. 

7. It seems sufficiently remarkable that, ,vhile the power of stC3,111 
had been, during all the many centuries that Ulan has existed npon the 
globe, so universally displayed in so 111 any of tbe phenolllena of natu- 
ral change, mankind Ii ved ahnost up to the Christian era ,vithont 
making it uBeful in giving motion even to a toy; but it lnust excite 
still greater surprise that, from the tinle of Hero, we meet ,vith no gootl 
evidence of its application to any practical use for many hundreds of 
Here and there, in the pages of history and in special treatises, we 
find a hint that the knowledge of the force of steam is not forgotten; 
but it is not at all to the credit of biographers and of historians that 
they have devoted so little time to the task of seeking and recording 
information relating to the progress of this and otl]er hnportant inven- 
tions and impro\"ernents in the mechanic arts. 
8. In the year 1825, the Snperintendent of the Royal Spanish Ar- 
chives at Simancas furnished an ac
ollnt, which had been there dis- 
covered, of an attenlpt nlade in 1543, by Blasco de Garay, a Spanish 
navy-officer, under Charles 1/ to lTIOVe a ship by })addle-,vheels, driven, 
as was inferred from the account, by a steam-engine. 
It is impossible to say to how mnch confidence tl]e story is entitled; 
but, if true, it was the first attempt, so far as is now known, to make 
steam useful in deyeloping power for practical pnrposes. Nothing is 
known of tbe form of the engine employec1, it only having becn statet1 
that a " vessel of boiling water" for.lncd a part of it. 
The account is, ho,vever, in other respects, so circumstantial that 
it has been credited by many, but it is looked upon as very doubtful 
hy the majority of writers upon the subject. It was published ill 1825 
1 Charles V., Emperor of Germany, was also Charles I. of Spain. 



by 1\1. de Navarrete, in the fOrIn of a letter from TOlnás Gonzales, 
Director of the Royal Archives at Simancas, Spain. 
9. In 1601 Giovanni Battista dena Porta, in bis work" Spiritali," 
c1cscriùetl an apparatus by which the pressure of steam might be 
luade to raise a colu111n of ,vater, and the method of operation included 
t.he application of the condensation of st
am to the production of a 
vaClUUll into which the water would flo\v. lIe used a separate boiler. 
Fig. 3 is copied from an illustration in a later edition of his work. 1 

FIG. 3.-PORTA'S ApPARATUS, A. D. 1601. 

10. In 1615 Salmon de Cans, who had been an engineer and arcl1Í- 
tect under Louis XIII. of France, and later in the employ of the Brit- 
ish Prince of 'Vales, published a work at Frankfort, entitled "Les 
Raisons des Forces l\Iouvantes avec diverses In3chines tant utile que 
plaisalltes," in which he illustrated his proposition, " \Yater \\yilI, by 
the aid of fire, mount higher than its level," by describing a n1achine 
designed to raise ,vater by the expanding power of steam. (See Fig. 4.) 
This consisted of a metal vessel p
rtly filled with water, and in 
which a pipe was fitted leading nearly to the bottoln and oppn at the 
Fire being applied, tbe steam, formed by its elastic force, drove 
the "Tater out through the vertical pipe, raising it to a height depend- 
ing upon either the wish of the builder or the strength of the "essel. 
11. In 1629 Giovanni Branca, of Lovetto, an Italian town, de- 
I" I Tre Libri Spiritali," Napoli, 1606. 


scribed, in a '.vork published at Rome, a number of ingenious mechani- 
cal contrivances, among which ,vas a steam-engine (Fig. 5), in ,,
the steam, issuing from a boiler, impinged upon the vanes of an hori. 
zontal wheel. 
This it 'was proposed to apply to many useful purposes. 


\ \\r - 


- \\f'
--=:::--- -........ 

FIG. 4.-DE CAUS'S ApPARATUS, A. D. 1615. 

12. In illustration of the singular manner in which old inventions 
disappear only to reappear in latter times, it 111ay be renlarked that 
this contrivance ,vas brought forward quite recently by a sanguine 
inventor, who spent a considerable sum in building what he considered 
a great improvelnent upon existing forms of steam-engines. 
The engine of IIero also has been frequently reinvented, ana, nn- 



del' the designation of " steam turbine," it has been applied with some 
satisfactory effect to the production of very high velocity of rotation. 
13. 'Ve now come to the first instance in which the expansive 

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force of steam is supposed to have actually been applied to do impor- 
tant and useful ,vork. 
In 1663, Edward Somerset, second l\Iarquis of 'V orcester, published 
a curious collection of descriptions of his inventions, couched in ob- 

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scure ancl singular language, and called a "Century of the Names 
and Scantlings of Inventions by me already practised." 
One of these inventions is an apparatus for raising water hy stealTI. 


The description ,vas not accompanied hy a drawing, but the sketch 
here given (Fig. ö), probably resembles his contrivance very closely. 
Steanl is generated in the boiler IJ, and thence is led into tbe ves- 
sel A, already nearly filled with ,vater. It drives the water in a jet 
out through a pipe, F or F'. The vessel A is tl1ell shut off from the 





_ B Ilf ',I II;!! 



boiler and again filled" by suction" after the steam has condensed 
through the pipe G, and the operation is repeated, the vessel B being 
used alternately ,vith ...1- 
The instruments of Porta and of De Caus were" steam fountains," 
and ,vere applied, if used at alJ, nlerely for ornamental uses. 
That of the l\Iarquis of 'V orcester was used for the purpose of 
elevating water for practical purposes at Vauxhal1, near London. It 
,vas still earlier used at the home of 'V orcester, Raglan Cn
tle, w'here 
the openings cut in the ,vall for its reception are stil1 to be SeEIJ, as III 
Fig. 7. 
14. The sepa1 0 ate boiler, as here used, constitutes a very ilnpor- 
tant ilnprovement upon the preceding fOrIns of apparatus, although 
the idea was original with Porta. 
The "water-comlnanding engIne," as its inventor caned it, was, 
therefore, the first instance in the history of the steanl-engInc in which 
the inventor i
 kl1o,vn to have" reduced his invention to practice." 
It is evident" however, that the invention, important fiS it 'ras, 
does not entitle the marquis to the honor claimed for hinl hy many 
authorities of being tlze inventor of the steam-engine. Sonler
et ,vas 
simply one of those w'hose works conectively nlake the steam-engine. 
SECTION II. The Period of Application of tIle Early Type of 
Io'l'land, Savery, and IJesCf[Julie}Os.-14. The inven- 



tion of the 
Iarquis of "r orcester was revived twenty years later, by 
Sir Samuel 
lorland, but in what form is not now kno\\Tn. 
In a lllellloir/ which he wrote upon the subject in }683, he exhib- 
ited a degree of familiarity ,,'ith the l,ropertics of steam that could 
hardly have been expected of anyone at that early date. 
In his Inannscript, now preserved in the IIaal'leul Collection of the 
British l\luseunl, he states the size of the cylinders required in his 
Inachine to raise given quantities of "'"ateI' per hour, and gives very 
exactly the relative volumes of equal weights of "Tater and of steam 
under atmqspheric pressure. 
He tells us that one of his engines, with a cylinder six feet in 
dianleter and t,velve feet long, "Tas capable"'Of raising 3,240 pounds 
of water through a beight of six inches, 1,800 times an hour. 
15. From this time for\\Tard the minds of many mechanicians were 
earnestly at work on this probleln-the raising of "Tater by aid of 
Ilitherto, although many ingenious toys, embodying the principles 
of the steam-engine separately, and sometimes, to a certain extent, 
collectively, had been proposed and even occasionally constructed, 
the "Todd was only just ready to profit by tl1e labors of inventors in 
this directioll. 
But, at the end of the seventeenth century, English miners ","ere 
beginning to find the greatest difficulty in clearing their shafts of the 
vast quantities of water ,vhich they were meeting at the considerable 
depths to which they had penetrated, and it had becollle a matter of 
vItal importance to them to find a more powerful aid in that work 
" than was then available. 
They were, therefore, by their necessities, stimulated to watch for, 
and to be prepared promptly to take advantage of, snch an invention 
when it should be offered them. 
16. The experiments of Papin, and the practical application of 
known principles by Savery, placed the needed apparatus in thpir 
"....hen Louis XIV. revoked the Edict of N antes, 1)y \vhich Henry 
IV. had guaranteed protection to the Protestants of France, the ter- 
rible perE;ecutions at once comlneneed by the parists drove from the 
kingdom some of its greatest men. 
Among these was Denys Papin, a native of Blois, anel a distin- 
guished philosopher. He studied medicine at Paris, alld, when ex- 
patriated, went to England, where he met the celebrated philosopher 
Boyle, who introdncecl him into the Royal Society, of ,,
hich Papin 
became a member, and to whose" Transactions" he contributed st:v- 
eral valuable papers. 
lIe invented, in 1680, the "Digester," in which substances, unaf- 
1 "Élévation des Eaux, par toutes Sortes de )Iachine, reduite à ]a )Icsure, au Poids 
et à la Balance." 


fectec1 by ,vater boiling under atmospheric pressure, can be subjected 
to the action of ,vater ùoiling uucler high pressure, and tbus thoroughly 
"digested," or cooked. 
The danger of bursting these vessels caused hiln, in 1G81, to in. 


vent and apply the lever safety-valve,l now an indispensable appur- 
tenance to every steam-boiler. 
17. In 1690 he constructed a ,vorking nlodel of an engine, consist- 
ing of a steam-cylinder with a piston ,vhich ,vas raised by steam-press- 
ure, and which descended again "'''hen the condensation of the steanI 
produced a vacuum beneath it. 
This apparatus the inventor proposed to use as a motor for working 
ptunps and for driving paddle.wheels; but be never built a successful 
,vorking lnachine on this plan, so far as ,ve can ascertain; and he did 
not then propose a separate boiler, but rnaflü the sanIe vessel serve 
at once as a boiler, steam.cylincler, and condenser, evaporating water 
in the cylinder itself; 2 and, aftcr raising the piston, relnoving the 
cylinder fron1 the fire, or the fire from under the cylinder, to effect 
condensation by the gradual loss of heat by radiation. 
18. The most important adyance in :1ctun,l construction ,vas mac1l
by Thomas Savery. 
The constant and en1barrassing expense, and the engineering diffi- 
culties presented by the necessity of keeping the Britisb lnines, and 
1 Other forms of safety-valve had been previously us
2 "Recueil des diverses Pièces touchant quelques nouvelles Machines et autres Sujcts 
philosophiques," 11. D. Papin, Cassel, lüû5. 



particularly the deep pits of Cornwall, free from water, and the faiJure 
of every attelnpt previously n1ade to l)rovide effectiye and economical 
pumping macbinery, were notecl by Savery, .who, July 25, 1698, pat- 

nted the design of the first engine which ever was actually employed 
in this 'work. 


A ,vorking model was submitted to the Royal Society of London, 
in 1699, 1 and successful experiments were made with it. 
This engine is shown in Fig. 8, as described by Savery himself in 
1702, in the" 1\Iiner's Friend." 
L L is the boiler, in .which steam is raised, and through tbe pi})es 
o 0 it is alternately let into dlC vessels P P. 
e it to pass into the lfìft-hand Ye
sel first. The v::dve lJI 
being closed and 'J- being opened, the ,vater containerl in Pis ariven 
out and up the pipe S to the desired height, .where it is discharged. 
The valve r is then closed, and al80 the vaJve in the pipe O. The 
yalve JI is next opened, and conden
ing water is turned upon the exte- 
nor of P by the cock Y; leading ,vater from the cistern 
L As the 
steam contained in P is conden
ed, forming a vacuum, a fresh charge 
of .water is driven by atmospheric pressure up the l}ipe T. 
Jleantime, steam from the boiler has been let into the right-hand 
vessel P, the cock 1f T having heen first closed and R opened. The 
charge of ,vater is driven out through the lo,yer pipe and the cock R, 
and up the pipe S as before, .while the other vessel is refining prepara- 
tory to acting in its turn. 
1 " Transactions of the Royal Society," 1699. 


The two vessels thus are alternately charged and discharged as 
long as is necessary. Savery's method of supplying his boiler with 
water was at once simple and ingenious. 
The SID'111 boiler.D is filled with water from any convenient source, 
as from the stand-pipe S. A fire is then built under it, and, when the 
l)ressure of steam in .D beconles greater than in the main boiler L, a 
communication is opened between their lo\ver ends and the water 

FIG. B.-SA VERY'S ENGINE, A. D. 169ft 

passes under pressure from the smaller to the larger boiler which is 
thus" fed" without interrupting the work. G and N are gauge-cocks 
by which the height of water in the boilers is determined, and these 
attachments were first adopted by Savery. 
19. IIere we find, therefore, the first really practicable and com- 
mercially valuable steam-engine. Thomas Savery is entitled to the 
credit of having been the first to introduce into general use a machine 
in ,vhich the po wer of heat, acting through the medium of steam, was 
rendered useful. 
It ,vill be noticed that Savery, like the ll1arquis of 'V orcester, 3nù 
like Porta, used a boiler separate from the ,vater-reservoir. 
He added to the" ,vater-commanding engine" of the marquis the 
sy-steIn of sur,face condensation, by which he was enabled to change 
his vessels \vhen it becan1e necessary to refill thCln; ana the secondary 
boiler, w11ich enabled hinl to supply the ,vorking boiler with ,yater 
without interrupting its action. 
The machine ,vas capable of working uninterruptedly for a period 
of time only limited by its own endurance. 



Savery never fitteil his boilers with the safety-valve, although it 
'was subsequently used on Savery engines l)y Desaguliers; and in deep 
Inines he was con1pelled to Inake use of higher pressures than his 
rudely-constructed boilers couIll safely bear. 
The introduction of his machines was, therefore, greatly retarded 
by the fear, alnong miners, of the explosion of his boilers; in fact, 
such explosion did occur on more than one occasion. 
20. The Savery engine was improved, about 1716 or 1718, by Dr. 
Desaguliers, ,vho attached to it Papin's safety-valve, and substituted 
a jet injection fron) the stand-pipe into the" forcing-vessels" for tbp 
surface condensation of Savery's original arrangement. 
21. The Savery engine, however, after all-4mprovement in design 
and construction, though a working and a useful n1achine, was still a 
very wasteful one. The steam from the boiler, passing into the coJc1, 
wet water-reservoir or forcing-vessel, 'was condensed in large quan- 
tity, and also to a very serious extent, by coming into actual contact 
with the water itself. 
Papin, '
rho has already been referred to, in 1707 proposed 1 to 
avoid this loss, to some extent at least, by the use of his piston, which 

FIG. 9.-PAPlN'S STEAM-ENGINE, A. D. 1707. 

he interposed between the steam and the water, as in Fig. 9, which 
IS copied from a sketch given by Papin himself. 
This engine is, in principle, a 1\farquis of Worcester engine, in 
which the piston E is introduced to separate the steam from the ,vater 
'which it in1pc1s, and thus to reduce the an10unt of loss by condensa- 
This engine "Tas never constructed, except experip1entalJy, ho'w- 
ever, and i; principa]]y of interest in a history of the ste:lll1-engine 
from the fact that it was a useful suggestion to succeeding inventors. 
Papin bad, as early as 1698, abandoned his earlier but more ac1- 
I "Nouvelle 
Ianière de lever rEau par la Foree de Feu, mise cn Lumière." Par 
M. D. Papin, Docteur en Médecine, Professeur en Matbematique à Cassel, 1707. 



vanced project of a piston, driven by steam-pressure on one side, 
assisted by a vacuum produced on the other; anù he can only be 
regarded, therefore, as an ingenious and intelligent though unfortu- 
nate projector, and not as a successful inventor, notwithstanding his 
acknowledged ability and learning. 




W HEN the details of knowledge had in modern tin1es accumu- 
lated to so great an extent as to delnanc1 some org3nization 
of them into principles, thoughtful men cast about for sonle law 
,vhich might serve to relate and connect together, in part at least, the 
multitude of facts and theories which were in an isolated and incohe- 
rent state. 
At this iIl1portant stage of scientific development, Galileo ,vas tLe 
first to recognize the value of Plato's thought as to the continuous 
action of natural forces. By arranging in serial order the cases of 
a la,v, be showed that phenomena which might be supposed to be 
radically distinct were really due to one cause; and be said" "tbat, 
,vhere links of connection were unknown, they should be sought for 
Galileo, ho\vever, was too busy a man to work out ll1any of the 
suggestions of the la\v of continuity, and it remained for Leibnitz to 
be the first to apply it extensÌ,'ely in the test of physical theories, and 
in the reduction of fragmentary knowledge to order and intelligibility. 
lIe affinned that nothing passes from one state to another without 
passing through all interrnediate states, and established the truth of 
his proposition by sho\ving the absurdity of the contrary. If a change 
"Tere to happen without the lapse of time, the thing changed n1ust be 
in two different conditions at the saIne instant, which is n1anifestly 
Froln this principl
, for 
xample, if it be known that a 10dy at onE' 
lnoment had a temp
rature of 20 0 , and at another mOlnent a ten}pcra- 
ture of 40 0 , it is certain that 'at some intervening n10ment its ten1pern- 
tllre was 30 0 . Although this law is so simple when stated as to seem 
almost axiomntic, yet its <-ases are frequently 
o obscure as to have 
caused lnuch hesitation in its acceptance as a uniYer
al or even a 
,videly-operating la\v. Son1e of its illustrations, lately disco\ered, are 
among the hardest-won triumphs of experin1ental RkilJ, and have de- 
manded the aid of the most refineà modern apparatus. 
A typical example of continuity has long been familiar to students 
of geometry; figures which may differ so much in graphic delineation 

3 0 


as the circle, tbe ellipse, parabola, and byperbola, may be united by 
the insensible modifications of surface afforded by tbe inclination, 
more and more, of a plane dividing a cone asunder. 
Similarly, in mechanics, the arc of a vibrating })endulum may be 
gradually enlarged by successive impacts until it beconles a circle. 
The part of a rotation differs generically from a complete one, yet it 
may approach infinitely near to it, and with only sucb a difference as 
exists between one arc and another slightly shorter. 
The works on physics issued during the last century abound with 
distinctions which close and accnrate investigations have since re- 
moved. Iron was once thought to be the only substance endo"\vable 
,vith magnetism; no\v, not only all the metals, .Qut all bodies ,,
are proved to present this l)olar force. In like manner, .with respect 
to heat and electricity, conductors and non-condnctor
ere ranged 
as two opposite classes; this disposition is stiJl practically useful, 
since most substances conduct either very well or very ill; but it bas 
given way as a precise statement of truth before the den10nstration 
that all substances may be placed in unbroken order as to conductive 
power. For, wl)ile no material transmits either beat or electricity 
without some resistance, tbat resistance is in no case indefinitely 
The transmission of light is another })roperty ,vhich is not now 
confined within a narrow area; transparency is no longer attributed 
to a fe,v bodies only-air, glass, and the like-it is extended to matter 
universally, experiment and reason both warranting the belief t])at 
any substance whatever, if reduced to a sufficiently thin film, would 
be pervious to light. Gold, one of the densest metals, can now be 
deposited by electricity in such tenuity as to be easily penetrated by 
the solar ray, and, although science is unable to give us any n1etal 
but gold in a translucent state, "\ve know the degrees at ,vl1Ïch such 
light as passes through every member of the Inetallic catalogue is re- 
fracted. This curious piece of information has ùeen attained by ex- 
tendincr to the cases concerned a law., which, as far as experiment has 
gone, has been found true-namely, that the angle of a ray polarizecl 
by reflection always makes 90 0 with the angle of a refracted ray. 
N ow, the particular angles at which lead, copper, and the rest, 1)0Iar- 
ize light by reflection being observed, a simple calculation tells us 
how much deflection a beam n1ay undergo in piercing metallic plates. 
This is an instance of how Science appropriates territory, one might 
deem ever to be undiscovered, by availing itself of the relationship of 
laws binding all things together, anc1 interweaving the kno,vn ancl the 
Chemists bave taken their acids and alkalies, that w'ere formerly 
adjudged as possessing qualities diametrically opposite, and now 
include them in one catalogue, no two consecutive menlbcrs of which 
are much more than distil1O'uishable in character. rrhc same order 


3 1 

has also been adopted in the electro-chemical arrangement of metals. 
Upon the possibility of placing all bodies in a continuous list under 
the head of any property whatever-cohesion, elasticity, and so on- 
the opinion is no,v' entertained that all matter is capable of receiving, 
holding, and giving forth, any kind of force. 
The varieties of force themselves have been instructively reduceù 
to a single basis-that of motion; electricity, gravity, light, and all 
the rest, are at present referred to the movt'ment in particular orbits 
and planes of the ultimate particles which build up all masses. For 
any sort of force can be converted by suitable Ineans into any other, 
and all into common mechanical motion. N ow, as transformations of 
energy are incessant in Nature-changes whereby heat becomes elec- 
tricity, electricity light, and light chemical action-it must be that 
there are intermediate phases which a body assumes while passing 
fronl the manifestation of one of these forces to another. It must be 
that the ordinary forms of force just named, which seenl to be so 
broadly marked off from each other, must be really united in trans- 
mutation by processes of motion too unstable to be caught and de- 
tained by our comparatively rude methods of detection and arrest. 
The extrenles of a series we see, the links between elude ns. 
The kinds of motion to which are given names in our ,yorks on 
physics are, perhaps, only the stable varieties of an indefinitely great 
number. The swiftness of the transitions from one stable form to an- 
other may explain and excuse the notion long held that the different 
kinds of force were individual entities, unrelated to each other. 
Here one of the chief lessons taught us by the law of continuity 
comes in: we are contronted by a variety of seemingly isolated forces; 
,ve find them taking on indifferently one another's forms; and, although 
,ve kno,v not how they do so, yet we can see the danger of over-esti- 
mating the apparent, while much more nlay be present thongh hidden 
from our sight. The comprehension of all the varieties of force under 
the one category of motion is hardly fraught with any d
duction more 
suggestive than that which inclines ns to acknowledge that nlere per- 
manence has hitherto unduly influenced onr ideas of 'what the modes 
of motion may be ill extent and diversity. The existence of electricity 
was unsuspected, except in the case of rubbed amber, until ,,'ithin a 
few generations; the fleeting character of the force evading the scru- 
tiny of the majority of the acutest investigators of Nature who have 
The noble generalization of the conser,Tation of energy affords an- 
other fact and hint of much value. It tells us of the radical identity 
of all sorts of force, whether as that of tIle descending clock-weight; 
or in a simfJle form of much fixity, as that of heat; or evanescent and 
easily convertible, as electricity; or intricate and ,vith nlany paths of 
working, as chemical affinity; or beyond the reach of any but vague 
and general Ineans of exalnination, as the forces of nerve and brain. 

3 2 


Everyone of these is ,,
ithin the jurisdiction of the laws of mechanics, 
even ,vhen the nlotions are so exalted in degree and dignity as to seenl 
of other stock than their real parents. Or, to change the metaphor, 
the tortuous labyrinth of the 'whole series diverges by clear and con- 
tinuous avenues from one simple highway, 'where the elementary la"
of motion are visibly obeyed. 
The consistences of matter, as well as its pro})erties, illustrate in a 
remarkable manner the principle of continuity. Sir 'Yilliam IIerschcl 
long ago ventured on general grounds to })redict that the solid, liquid, 
and gaseous states of matter would be found to shade off impercepti- 
bly into each other. Twenty years afterward, the labors of Prof. An- · 
drews, of Belfast, proved the great ast1"onol1(er right. By the most 
ingenious appliances, he detained for convenient inspection processes 
of transition from gas to liquid, which, in their ordinary })rogress, co- 
alesce so abruptly as to seem instantaneous. In some familiar cases 
we can perceive changes of tbe same kind going on; as, for example, 
in the melting of wax 'we can follow tbe alteration from brittle bard- 
ness to plasticity, and thence to viscosity and liquefaction. From 
facts such as these, here very briefly indicated, has arisen the convic- 
tion that all ]11atter can assun1e any of the three consistences. Fara- 
day liqu8fied, by cold and great })ressure, several of wlwt had been 
called perl11anent gases, and improvements in the means of producing 
llre and cold will doubtless enable us in the future to liquefy the 
remainder. Although the greatest heat we can bring to bear on car- 
bon does not fuse it, still the tendency of our IU1o'\vledge is to induce 
us to belie\Te that coal in burning for a brief instant, too short for ob- 
servation, exists in the liquid state. A second of tÏ111e is diyisibl
111iIlionths quite as perfectly as a geological cycle. 
The thread of continuity has, in a variety of cases, been estahlisl}ed 
in the lahoratory. No two physical facts would seen1 to stand more 
decidedly apart than chemical union and mechanical admixture, yet 
,ye find them inextricably joined when ,ve add sulphuric acid and 
water together. In all possible percentages do these liquids chell1Ï- 
cally con1hine, and this at variance with the generally-obeyed law of 
(lefinite proportions. The same departure from the usual rule al
obtains among other complex unions, and corroborates 'what first 
principles affirnl-nalnelr, that c11emical forces are but intense and 
invol yed mechanical ones. 
In the progress of science there has been much speculation as to 
the method by which light, electricity, and gravitation, are vropa- 
gated through space. It is the old question again, " Can matter act 
\-; here it is not? " Newton found the idea inconceivable, and ima- 
gined an ether as tbe velJicle of nlotions between the snns and planets 
of the universe. This position has been criticised by JUill, ,,
ho says 
that inconceivableness is no test of truth, and who asserts, with a lack 
'of bis usual caution, that scarcely any liying thinker of eminence now 



doubts that matter can act where it is not. What light have recent 
researches shed upon this interesting question, heretofore little more 
than metapbysical ? 
The solar atmosphere has been found to extend to more than half 
a radius beyond its surface; at the top of its corona, high above the 
hydrogen, there are vast masses of a gas which emits a simple, green 
ray, not corresponding with that of any known substance. In auro- 
ral displays on earth, in the uppermost regions of our atmosphere, the 
same simple ray bas been detected; whence it has been supposed that 
atmospheres are not restrictedly planetary nor solar, but continuous 
and cosmical; and that it may be a gas indefinitely rarefied that con- 
veys to us through the depths of space not only light-motion, but the 
yet n10re inappreciable tremors of electricity and gravitation. 
The ordinary definitions of the interstellar ether are open to the 
objections urged by Mill, because of a dread there seems to be abroad 
of ascribing materiality to it; while its infinitesimal materiality is not 
only within the bounds of possibility, but well agrees with the facts. 
All motion takes time; light has a measurable velocity; chemical ac- 
tion of the n10st violent kind and even explosions are not instantane- 
ous. Were it otherwise, the hypothesis of no medium or of an imma- 
terial one might be entertained. N ow, the decidedness in amount of 
a body's weight as a mass, or in its particle
, has no necessary connec- 
tion with its efficiency as a medium of motion. Just the reverse: 'we 
find that as matter is Sillaller and lighter in its ultimate parts or gross 
masses, the more rapidly can it communicate motion, and the greater 
is its ,capacity for lllotion. It is a familiar fact that, in the use 
of machinery, a small wheel can, proportionately to itR weight, con- 
tain and transmit luore motion than a large on'e, the plain reason 
of which is that it can be driven at a higher peripheral speed, its 
smaller bulk causing less centrifugal strain at the axis than if it were 
Sound travels nearly four times faster in hydrogen than in a]r, 
and in quickness of elastic recoil it is, when compressed, preferable to 
nil' in the same degree. Its extraordinary chemical energy, far tran- 
scending that of denser gases, is a fact of parallel bearing. 
If we can imagine a gas as much thinner than hydrogen as the 
square of light's velocity exceeds the speed of sound in bydrogen 
(about, 4,000 feet a second), ,ye bave a reasonahle presentation of 
what tbe luminous medium may be-its marvelous tenuity being 
vastly more than compensated by the mobility of its )nolecnle
And, therefore, the most subtile aëriform fluid conceivable is of enor- 
mously more utility in propagating impulses froll1 star to star than 
solid steel would be. The ether of space perhaps 
nstains some such 
relation to a gas as a gas does to a liquid; and the current disputes 
as to the materiality or immateriality of a cosmic medium recall very 
suggestively the days, not very distant, when wise men doubted the 
T'OL. XII.-3 



materiality of air, and the still more recent times when it ,vas found 
that gases other than air had existence. 
Some further Rpeculations, enkindled by the green ray observed in 
the sunshine, may be here presented as relevant t.o the subject. Du- 
mas, the eminent French chemist, sought by very careful determina- 
tion to prove that all atomic weights were exact multiples of that of 
hydrogen. He found them to be Inultiples of a number one-fourth tlJat 
of hydrogen, whence the tenuous masses 'which lie abo\Te the hydrogen 
on tbe sun's surface are supposed to be one-fourth the specific gravity 
of the lightest gas ",Te commonly kno".... And, as the spectrum it 
yields is the simplest known or even possible, it is thought that this' 
new unit of the atomic scale may be l)l'imal matter, and the source of 
all material forms. This conjecture is not u"risupported by other con- 
siderations, for, in the four kinds of stars regarded in the order of their 
brightness and beat, there is a progresshrely increasing variety of 
gases as they approach a lower temperature-a suggestion this as to 
the origin of our sixty-three so-called elements in chemistry. 
In domains above the plane of }Jhysics, 'we can observe many 
beautiful cases of the law of continuity. On a window-pane in "Tinter 
we can notice structural forces beginning their work where there has 
been, as far as we could see, no structure. We may breathe on the 
glass, and no microscope can there reveal any definite direction in the 
disposal of the moisture. Yet, from it a symmetrical architecture of 
frost slowly arises. We may take a crystal just deposited from a 
solution, break off a corner from it, and replace it in the liquid whence 
it came, when the damage will be accurately repaired. 
Bet,veen the inorganic and the organic kingdon1s of Nature the 
old partition-walls have at many points been removed. Formic acid, 
such as ants secrete, has been made artificially by tbe synthesis of its 
elements; and so have other product8, formerly regarded as purely 
· organic. Prof. Huxley maintains the opinion that, in the past, highly- 
cOlnplex chemical compounds have passed into the state of 'what he 
cans protoplasm, the simplest basis of organic life. The controversy 
about spontaneous generation is not ,v})ether the organic is contained 
and potential in tbe inorganic, but whether the transition can be arti- 
ficially effected nO"T. 
Plants like the fl y -catcher which closes on venturesome insects 
, , 
and absorbs their juices, show us how powers, commonly supposed to 
be exclusively animal, may be shared by mem bel's of the vegetable 
world. The sensitive-plant has something very like the nervous sys- 
tem which marks the highest types of life, for it not only shrinks 
when rudely touched, but also when exposed to fumes of chloroform. 
In the same direction points what in plants generally seems to paral- 
lel instinct in animals. If a layer of soil near the surface of the 
ground be unusually rich and moist, the rootlets in growth are spread 
almost wholly along that. layer, while in any other case they descend. 



The tendrils of vines find points for attachment an inch or two from 
their stems; in cellars and caverns the feeble sprouts grow toward 
the light which they seem to feel is their life. 
Is not all this conformable to the law by which motion takes the 
path of least resistance, as in the case of the waters of a broken reser- 
voir descending to a valley by the shortest channel; or discharges 
of electricity harmlessly betaking themselves to the earth through a 
purposely-exposed conductor? 
Instinct, especially in insects, borders on and at times invades 
the higher realm of intelligence. The shapes of birds'-nests, wax- 
cells, and so on, are not rigidly invariable, but are always more or 
less adapted to circumstances. Glass rods have been placed in a bee- 
hive, and tbe little workers to avoid them have sprung all sorts of but- 
tresses and arches, such probably as neither they nor any of their pro- 
genitors ever undertook before.. 
Natural history, in the discussions ,vhich have recently shaken 
the ,vorId, illustrates how difficult, if not impossible, is the task of 
trying to draw lines of demarkation, hard and fast, in N atllre. The 
arguments pro and con as to wllat constitutes a true species might 
be gathered into a very bulky voltnne, and the enll of the discussion 
is not yet. 
The probability of truth, on the side of those naturalists who affirm 
the principle of continuity as explaining the genesis of species, has 
been strengthened by that l)rinciple being lnade the baf'is of the best 
method of zoölogical classification yet produced. 
Profs. IIuxley and Haeckel describe a tree of life: the main branch- 
es of it are the great classes; the divergent limbs, the families; and 
the minor b
'anches, the species. The wide gaps bet,veen tbe groups 
of organisms no,vextant are in considerable measure bridged by re- 
course to fossils, and the suggestions of embryology-which science 
studies the phases an animal passes through from conception to birth, 
and observes the affiliations indicated in antenatal history. 
As the gulfs existing between living things present the most for- 
midable difficulty in the way of the reception of the principle of con- 
tinuity in its broadest claims, it may be admissible here to present 
some of the explanations given by Lyell and others to account for the 
fact that so many links of genetic connection are missing. It is most 
important to a species that it should preserve and intensify some 
definite method of subsistence-a habit of diving, climbing, swinulling, 
digging, or of catchin
 some particular prey, or finding and living on 
some special plant. There is a natural pren1ÌuIH set npon some ex- 
pertness of this kind, which we must Inark is very apt to run in a nar- 
row groove; and there is a yet greater reward for any new expertness, 
the occupying of a new field of animal possibility, or an adaptation to 
circumstances cl1anged by the great forces of Nature-as in the mighty 
revolutions brought about by astronomical and geologica] causes. 


In periods of transition we can well inlagine that an elasticity in 
stationary circumstances, usually all but dormant in an organism, 
comes into play with all its power; and hence that the type fit for 
the new conditions is, comparatively speaking, soon formed and fixed. 
We may thus understand how it is that a wide diversity among liv- 
ing forms has been brought about, and why it is that few fossils in- 
termediate between them have been discovered. Some very striking 
ones have been unearthed, but it would be an unwarrantable digres- 
sion to describe them in a paper of these limits. 
The remote extremes which may be joined together by gentle and 
imperceptible modifications are well illustrated in the factR of ordinary 
growth. Newton had once to he taught thl\t two and two make four, 
yet from that day to the culmination of his powers there was no ab- 
rupt accession of knowledge or insight. He came by steady advances 
fro In the ignorance of a babe to the full stature of the first physical 
philosopher in Europe. 
All this teaches us the supreme Ï1nportance of looking at things 
"in their dynamic as well as in their static aspect; of regarding the 
mechanics not less earnestly than the geometry of Nature. For dif- 
ferences in degree may gradually accumulate until they become dif- 
ferences in kind. We have seen how various sources of obscurity may 
veil processes of genesis, and lead any but a n1Ïnute and careful ob- 
server to mistake a new form for a new identity. We have noticed 
how the possession of qualities usually in extremes may conceal the 
fact tbat the qualities are general-as in the magnet, ,vbich is but an 
exaggerated case of any mass whatever. 
We have noticed how the vast differences in the time required in 
transmutation may tend to confuse the similarity of two cases of a 
law. The em browning of a pine fence in the course of years is due to 
the same cause which chars in a few minutes the same "rood ,vhen 
used as fuel. \Ve have remarked, also, the enormous differences in 
the stability of natural forces: some of tlIem, as heat, are metamor- 
phosed with great difficulty; others, as electricity, are of very weak 
permanence; and others, again, in ,vhose existence '\\"-e have good 
reasons to believe, are too evanescent to be detectrd by the keenest 
It has also appeared that mere complexity of resultant lines, as 
simple forces interact, may yield the erroneous supposition that new 
and hio-her causes than the real ones have come into actioD. 
It has been briefly stated how diverse properties merge into one 
another, and various consistencies overpass the bounds of common 
definition; and, leaving the region of fact for that of speculation, it 
bas been shown how the })rinciple of continuity may account for the 
genesis of our chemical elements, and the transfer of impul
es across 
the of the lleavens. 
All these facts, probabilities, and suggestions, lead to tbe convic- 



tion that continuity is a universal law; that it prevails everywhere, 
and has prevailed throughout all time; that its present innumerable 
and intricate threads bave been spun forth from the simplest conceiv- 
able state of matter and motion, which from the beginning have been 
subject to a uniform code of law-a code of hnv growing nlore com- 
plicated with time by the interaction and mutual influence of l)rimi- 
tive principles. 
The study of continuity presents many re8ults very pertinent to 
the great question, "How has Nature assumed the infinite beautiful 
forms ,vhich engage our attention and admiration to-day?" The 
probabilities in favor of the solution offered by the evolution theory 
are much enhanced when we consider how insignificant in area, and 
transient in operation, are many of the bridges connecting together 
the ielands and continents of forces and life. 
As we trace out with great pains the unbroken links stretching 
between the most diverse facts and appearances, links which a cursory 
view would never discover, we find that that theory 'which supposes a 
community of origin and descent for all that now is, has a remarkable 
hody of evidence adducible in its favor. 
That Nature has arrived at its present state by the continuous 
action of forces such as are now at work around us, has beconle so 
widely-prevalent a conviction that JHill said, speaking of the inclusion 
of special laws in general ones convergently, that the question Sci- 
ence now asks is, "'Vhat are the fewest and silnplest assumptions 
which, being granted, the existing order of Nature would follow?" 



T HE Troglodytes or Cave-dwellers of ancient Nubia belonged to 
a tribe which seems to have formed an intermediate link between 
the Semitic and Ethiopian races, but which has become entirelyex- 
tinct before the second century of the Christian era. Between Sidi 
Elgor and Port Er-nassid (the ancient Berenice), on the shores of the 
Red Sea, Dr. Brehm examined many of tbe limestone-caverns which 
were the favorite haunts of these singular beings, and found no diffi- 
culty in distinguishing the bones of the Coptic and Arabian bn:dal- 
places from the Troglodyte skeletons, "rhich could be recognized by 
their demi-simian skulls, their attenuated brachial and femoral bones, 
and especially their narrow chests. 
These peculiarities Dr. Brehm ascribes to the unnatural habits of 
the wretched cave-men, ,vho, fronl cowardice or constitutional sloth, 
passed the greater part of their existence in the penetralia of their 

3 8 


foul burrows, while their neighbors preferred a manlier way of secur- 
ing themselves against enemies and wild beasts, and saved themselves 
from the glow of the midsummer sun by cultivating shade-trees. 
"Herodotus speaks of persecutions," the doctor remarks, "but this 
fixed custom of theirs may perhaps be attributed to vicious habit, 
strengthened by hereditary transmission, quite as lnuch as to neces- 
sity, for men can become fond of vitiated air, as they contract a 1)a8- 
sion for fermented drink or decayed food." 
It seems really so, if we reflect on the hereditary perversity of 
millions of Europeans and North American citizens, 'who in the midst 
of social security, and without tIle excuse of the persecuted N nbians,. 
insist on secluding themselves and their children in the foul atmos- 
})here of tenement-houses, factories, and workshops, 'which might just 
as cheaply be supplied with pure as with warm air. 
The air we breathe, ,,
hich a great English physician calls gaseous 
food, may become impure to the degree of being indigestible to our 
lungs and utterly unfit for the performance of functions wbich are 
quite as important as those of our solid and fluid victuals. Dull 
headaches, nausea, loss of appetite and of the sense of smell, and the 
sadness produced by the unsatisfied hunger after oxygen, are only 
incidental and secondary evils; the great principal curse of the trog- 
10dyte-Ilabit is its influence on the respiratory organs. In 1853, when 
Hanover and other parts of Northern Germany were visitEd by a very 
malignant kind of small-pox, the great anatomist Langenbeck tried 
to discover" the peculiarity of organic structure which disposes one 
man to catch the disease while his neighbor escapes. . . . I have cut 
up more human bodies than the Old l\lan of the 
Iountain with all his 
accomplices," he writes from Göttingen in his semi-annual rerort, 
"and, speaking only of my primary object, I must confess that I am 
no wiser than before. But, though the mystery of small-pox has 
eluded my search, my labors have not been in vain; they have re- 
vealed to me something else-the origin of consumption. I am sure 
now of what I suspected long ago, viz., that pulmonary diseases have 
very little to do with intemperance or with erotic excesses, and much 
less with cold weather, but are nearly exclusively (if ,ve except tuber- 
culous tendencies inherited from both parents, I say quite exclusively) 
produced by the breathing of foul air. The lungs of all persons, 
minors included, ,vho had worked for some years in close workshops 
and dusty factories, showed the germs of the fatal disease, ""bile con- 
firmed inebriates, who had passed their days in open air, had pre- 
servefl their respiratory organs intact, whatever inroads their ex- 
cesses had made on the rest of their system. If I should go into 
practice and undertake tbe cure of a consumptive, I should begin by 
driving him out into the Deister (a densely-wooded lllountain-range of 
Hanover), and prevent him from entering a house for a year or two." 
The ablest pathologists of the present time incline to the same 



view. "There is a cure for consumption," says Dio Le,vis, "though 
I doubt if it will ever become popular. Even in its advanced stagc
the disease may be arrested by roughing it 7' I mean by adopting 
savage habits, and living out-doors altogether, and in all kinds of 
That low temperature in open air does not injure our lungs has 
been recognized even by old-school physicians, who now send their 
patients to Minnesota and Northern l\lichigan quite as often as to 
Florida; and is conclusively proved by the fact that of all nations of 
the earth, next to the inhabitants of the Senegal highlands, the N 0)'- 
wegians, Icelanders, and Yakuts of N ortbern Siberia, enjoy the most 
perfect immunity from tubercular diseases. Dry and intensely cold 
air preserves decaying organic tissue by arresting decomposition, and 
it would be difficult to explain how tbe most effective remedy came to 
be suspected of being the cause of tuberculosis, unless we remember 
that, \vhere fuel is accessible, the disciple of civilization rarely fails to 
take refuge from excessive cold in its opposite extreme-an over- 
heated artificial .atmosphere-and. thus comes to connect severe "\vÌn- 
tel'S with the idea of pectoral complaints. 
There is a rather nunlerous class of beasts whose lungs seem 
able to adapt themselves to an atmosphere almost devoid of oxygen, 
but the hU1l1an animal and the Quadrumana do not belong to that 
class. l\fonsieur de la ßIotte-Bandin, who was connected with tl)e 
scientific staff of the Jardin des Plantes as their" menagerie-doctor" 
for more than t,venty years, never omitted to dissect his deceased 
patients before turning them over to the taxidermist, and invariably 
found that all monkeys had succumbed to some variety of phthisis, 
while the lungs of the badgers, bears, and foxes, were perfectly sound. 
The three last-named animals are natural cave - dwellers, and have 
been provided with organs especially contrived to resist the effluvia 
of their burrows; while the SÙniæ, like man, are open-air creatures, 
whose proper atmosphere is the cordial air of woodlands. 
Alnong the natives of Senegambia pulmonary affections are not 
only nearly but absolutely unknown; yet a single year passed in the over- 
crowded man-pens and steerage-hells of the slave-trader often sufficed 
to develop the disease in that n10st virulent form known as galloping 
consumption; and the brutal planters of the Spanish Antilles made a 
rule of never bnying an imported negro before they had" tested }1is 
wind," i. c., trotted him up-hill and watched his respirations. If he 
proved to be " a roarer," as turfmen tenn it, they knew that the dun- 
geon had done its ,york and discounted lJÏs value accordingly. " If a 
perfectly sound man is imprisoned for life," says Baron d' A.rblay, the 
Belgian philanthropist, "his lungs, as a rule, will first show symptoms 
of disease, and shorten his misery by a hectic decline, unless he should 
commit suicide." 
Our home statistics show that the 'Percentage of deatbs by con- 


sumption in each State bears an exact proportion to the greater or 
slnaller number of inhabitants who follow in-door occupations, and 
is highest in the factory districts of New England and the crowded cit- 
ies of our central States. In Great Britain the rate increases with tbe 
latitude, and attains its maximum height in Glasgow, where, as Sir 
Charles Brodie remarks, ,vindows are opened only one day for every 
two in Birmingllam, and every three and a half in London; but going 
farther north the percentage suddenly sinks from twënty-three to 
eleven, and even to six, if we cross the fifty-seventb parallel, which 
marks the boundary between tbe manufacturing counties of Central 
Scotland and the pastoral regions of the north. 
It is distressingly probable, then, to say the least, that consump- 
tion, that most fearful scourge of the hum
 race, is not a " mysteri- 
ous dispensation of Providence," nor a "product of our outrageous 
climate," but the direct consequence of an outrageous violation of 
the physical laws of God. Dyspepsia (for which also open-air exer- 
cise is the only relnedy), hypochondria, and not only obstruction but 
destruction of the sense of smell-" knowledge from one entrance 
quite shut out "-,vi11 a11 be pronouncecl nlere trifles by anyone ,,,ho 
has witnessed the protracted agony of the Luft-N ot11, as the Ger- 
mans call it with horrid directness-the frantic, ineffectual struggle 
for life-air. Dr. IIa11eI' thought that, if God punishes suicide, he ,vould 
make an exception in favor of consumptives; and there is no doubt 
that, without the merit of martyrdom, the victim of the cruel dis- 
ease endures worse than ever Eastern despot or grand-Inquisitor 
could inflict on the objects of his wrath, because the same amount of 
torture in any other form would induce speedier death. 
But not only the punishments but also the ,varnings of Nature 
are proportioned to the Inagnitude of each offense against JIer laws. 
Injurious I substances are repulsive to our taste, incipient exllaustion 
,varns us by a feeling of hunger or weariness, and every strain on our 
franie that threatens us with rupture or dislocation announces the 
danger by an unmistakable appeal to our sensorium. How, then, 
can it be reconciled with the immutable laws of life that the great- 
est bane of our physical organism overcomes us so unawares that 
consumption is proverbial1y referred to as tbe insidious disease? 
Should it real1y be possible that N atnre bas failed to provide any 
alarm-signals against a danger like this? The truth is, that Done 
of her protests are more pathetic or more persistent than those di- 
rected against the "habit that is fraught with such pernicious conse- 
quences to our respiratory organs. 
It is prol)ahle that some of tbe victims of our numerous dietetic 
abuses have become initiated to tl1ese vices at such an early period 
of their Jives t11at they have forgotten the time when the taste of tea 
and alcohol seemed bitter, or the sl11el1 of tobacco produced nausea; 
but I am certain tbat no man gifted with a moderate share of memory, 


4 1 

who has grown up in the pest atmosphere of our city tenements, 
school-rooms, and workshops, can forget the passionate yearnings of 
his chi1dboocl for the free air of the woods and mountains; tbe ,vild 
outcry of his instinct against the process that inoculated hÌIn with 
the seeds of death, and stunted the development of his most vital 
faculties. The remorselessness of the pagan Cbinese, .who smother 
tho life-spark of their infants in the swift embrace of the river-god, is 
Inercy itself compared to the cruelty of Christian parents who suffo- 
cate their children by the slow process of stinting their life-ail', through 
years and years of confinement in dungeons to which an enlightened 
community would not even consign their malefactors. 
Honest Jean Paul relates that he used to secure a seat in a certain 
corner of an overcrowded village schoolhouse, where a knot-hole in 
the wall established a communication ,vith the outer ,vorld. Through 
this orifice he imbibed comfort and inspiration as from a flask, ùut 
conceived conscientious scruples against the practice, as he never 
could indulge ,vithout becolIlÌng conscious of a temptation to aùan- 
don his old parents and his home, and join a troop of wood-cutters or 
gypsies, not from any vagrant tendencies, or want of dutiful sentiments, 
but froln an aln10st irresistible desire to make the luxury of fresh air 
a permanent blessing. "I knew they ,vonld charge Ine ,vith black 
ingratitude, if I should run away," he saJ"s. "Good God! how I 
longed to prove Iny affection by working for them in wind and ,veath- 
er, fetching in cord-\vood from the woods and splitting it iuto tIle 
nicest, handiest pieces, carrying messages over the snow-covered 
Illountains and be back in half the time anyone else could make the 
tr.ip-c1o anything that would save me-not from my books, but from 
that glowing :\Ioloch of a big stove, and that stifling, soul-stifling 
smell of our dungeon! " 
Even to the most inveterate believer in natural depravity this 
might suggest a doubt whether the repugnance of children to study 
may not be founded on a physical virtue rather than on n10ral per- 
verseness. To whatever is real1y beneficent we are commonly drawn 
by natural attraction, and whatever appears yiolently repulsive to 
youthful minds may be justly suspected of containing more of eyil 
than of good. 
'he very disciple of Socrates who used to run six- 
teen miles a day to hear the ãplGTOÇ laTplùv (best of physicians), woultl 
have hesitated to purchase physic for Ilis soul at the price of l)hysicaJ 
health; and we cannot blame our children for being unable to recon- 
cile the precepts they hear with those they feel, and giving \vay now 
and then to the more consistent and more logical pronlpter. 
The farmer's boy may look for,,"'ard to each afternoon and each 
SUlnmer vacation as a refreshing interlude, and to the last term of 
his school-years as the last act of the tragedy; but in cities the end 
of the 8chool-rooln bondage is too often the ùeginning of the endless 
slavery which awaits the young apprentice of the workshops, facto- 

4 Z 


ries, and counting-houses. In N ortbwestern Europe 3nd the Eastern 
States of North America, eleven million human heings, a fourth of 
that number n1Ïnors, are performing their daily toil in an atn10sphere 
that saps the yigor of their souls and bodies more effectually th311 a 
diet of potatoes and water could do it in the same time. A fun third 
of the cotton-spinners of Lancashire and l\Iassachusetts are girls and 
boys in their tecns! They do not complain to a stranger, unless he 
should be able to interpret the language of their h3ggard faces and 
,yeary eyes; but no one 'who has fathomed the depth of their misery 
will charge me w'Ïth exaggeration if I say that, to the vast majority of 
the unfortunates, loss of feeling and of reason ,yould be a ùlessin
\Yhat do they feel but nn::,atisfied hunger in a hundred forms, and 
what can reason tcll then1 but that they h
ve ùeen defrauded of their 
birthright to happiness; that not only their opportunity but their ca- 
pacity for enjoYluent is ebbing away; and that, whatever after-ye3rs 
fIlay bring, thcir life h38 been robbed as a day of its mornil1g or a 
J,ear of its spring-time? 
The opium-habit may be acquired in less than half a year, and the 
natural repugnance to alcohol and tobacco is generally overcon1e after 
four or five trials; but the factory-slave has to pass through ten or 
fifteen years of continual struggle against his l)hysical conscience, 
before the voice of instinct at last becomes silent, 3nd the })ainful 
longing for out-door life gives way to th3t anæst11esia by whicb N a- 
ture palliates evils for w}Úcb s}1e has no renledy. In lllore advanced 
years the habit beC0111eS continued, 3ncl ,ve find old llavitués who 
actually enjoy tbe effluvia of their prisons, and dreaa cold air and 
" drafts" as they would a messenger of deat}). They avoid cold in- 
stead of impurity, just as tipplers on a 'warm day imaginc that they 
'would "catch their death" by a draught from a cool fountain, but 
never hesitate to s,vallow the monstrous mixtures of the liquor-vender. 
Rousseau expres8es a belief .that any man, ,vho has preserved his 
native telnperance for the first twenty-five years, will aftcl"w3rd be 
pretty nearly proof against temptation, because very unr..ntur31 h3bits 
can only be acquired ,vhile our tastes have the pliancy of iml1l3turity, 
and I think the same holds good of the troglodyte-habit: no one who 
lIas passed twenty or twenty-five years in open air can be bribed very 
easily to excbange oxygen for miasm3. 
Shan1yl-ben-Iladdin, the Circassi3n hero chieftain, who W'3S capt- 
ured by the nussians in the winter of 1864, was carried to N ovgorod 
and imprisoned in an apartment of the city armory, wbich resembled 
a cOlufortable bedehamber rather than a dungeon, and was otherwise 
treated 'with more kindness than the Hussians are ""ont to show their 
prisoners, as the Governluent hoped to use his influence for political 
purposes. But:1 ,veek after his arrival in N ovgorod the captive InOUl1- 
taineer demanded an interview with the cOll1m3nder of the arn10ry, 
and offered to resign his liberal rations and subsist on bread 3nd cab- 



bage-soup like the private soldiers of his guard, and also to surrender 
some valuables be had concealed on bis person, on condition tbat they 
,yould permit him to sleep in open air. One more ,veek of such nausea 
and headache as the confinement in a closed l'oom had caused him, 
would force him to commit suicide, he said, and, if his request was 
refused, God would charge the guilt of the deed on his tormentors. 
Mter taking due precautions against all possibility of escape, they 
permitted him to sleep on the platform in front of the guard-house; 
and Colonel Darapski, the commander of the city, inforn1ed his govern- 
ment in the following spring that the health and general behavior 
of his prisoner were excellent, but he had slept in open air everyone 
of the last hundred nights, with no other covering but his own "Torn- 
out mantle, and a woollen cap he had purchased from a soldier of the 
guard to keep his turban from getting soiled by mud and rain. 
General Sam Houston, the liberator of Texas, who had exiled him- 
self from his native State in early manhood, and passed long years, 
not as a captive, but as a ,:oluntary companion of the Cherokee Indians, 
was ever afterward unable to prolong his presence in a crowded ball 
or ill-ventilated room beyond ten or twelve lllinutes, and described 
his sensation on entering such a locality as one of "uneasiness, increas- 
ing to positive alann, such as a mouse may be supposed to feel under 
an air-pump." 
The cause of this uneasiness is less mysterious than our nature's 
wonderful power of adaptation that can help us ever to overcome it. 
The elementary changes in the human body are going on with such 
rapidity that the waste of tissue and organic fluids is only partially 
retrieved by the digestible part of the substances ,vhich we feed 
to the abdominal department of our laboratory twice or thrice in 
twenty-four hour
" The difference is n]ade up by the labors of the 
upper or pectoral departnlent, \vhich renews its supply of r
l\V mate- 
rial independently, or even in spite of our .wi}], twenty times per 
minute, or 70,000 times in twenty-four hours! With every breath 
we draw "Te take into our lungs about one pint of air, so that th
quantity of gaseous food thus consun1cd by the body amounts in a- 
day to 675 cubic feet. The truth, then, is that eating and drinking 
may be considered as secondary or supplementary functions in the 
complicated process perforllled by that living engine caned the anin1al 
body, while the more important task falls to t}}e share of the lungs. 
The stoluach Inay suspend its labors entirely for t\venty-four honrs 
without serious detriment to the systelll, anù for two or three days 
\vitI)out endangering life, while the "
ork of re
piration cannot be 
interrupted for six minutes "rithout fatal consequences. 
The first object of respiration is to introduce elements needed in 
the preparation of blood, tIle second to ren10ve gaseous cnrbon and 
other secretions of the air-cells. The deleterious consequences, tl]ere- 
fore, of breathing the same air over and over again arise not only 



from the exhaustion of oxygen, but also from tbe circumstance that 
the confined atmosphere may become azotized or surcharged with 
carbon to the limit of its absorbing powers, just as water, after "being 
saturated ,vith certain percents of salt or sugar, refuses to dissolve any 
further additiQns. The act of reinsl)iring air, which has already heen 
subjected to the process of pulmonary digestion, is thus precisely anal- 
ogous to the act of a famished animal devouring its own fæces, and if 
performed habituaHy cannot fail to be attended ,vith equal1y ruinous 
consequences. Corruption of the alimentary ducts would surely en
in the latter (supposed) case, })utrefaction of the respiratory organs 
dof3.s follow in the other. 'V orking-men employed in localities wbos
azotized atmosphere is loaded besides with particles of flying cotton- 
fibre, metallic dust, or fatty vapors, inspire "(
ubstances ,vlJÏch are just 
as indigestible to their lungs as mercury and alcohol are to their 
stomachs, and like these cause a rapid deterioration of the tissues in 
proximity to which they are deposited. 
The only wonder, then, is how Nature can resist outrages of this 
kind for any length of time; and it is a curious reflection to think 
what amounts of hardship of the primitive sort, such as hunger, 
fatigue, cold, heat, depri\'ation of slee}), etc., a healthy savage might 
accuston1 himself to, if be tried as hard as the poor children of civili- 
zation try to ,vean themselves from their hunger after life-air! 
Can necessity be-we will not sayan exeuse, but-an explanation 
of such systematic self-ruin? 1Ve must utterly refuse to believe it. 
"\Vherever men barter life for bread, there is a violent presumption that 
they do not know ,vhat they are doing; for against recognized health- 
destroyers even the poorest of the poor will rebel 'with a pron1}Jitude 
that vindicates the digr.ity of human nature under the 1110St abject 
conditions of bondage. Let a railroad contractor be caught in tbe 
trick of adulterating bis flour with chalk or his sugar with alulll, and 
see how quickly his navvies will leave him; or obbC)'ve how firmly 
reckless Jack Tar insists on his anti-scorbutic raspberry-vinegar! 
l\Iiners ha\'e left a colliery en 'Jnasse, because tIle OWIler shirked bis 
duty of providing safety-lamps; and the very negro slaves of a South 
Carolina plantation attempted the life of their mastrr, who stinted 
their allowance of quinine brandy which llÍs fatller had issued them to 
counteract the miasmatic tendencies of the rice-s'wamp. 
Neither is it'possible to suppose that ,vant of hygienic education 
can be the origin of such ignorance; for K ature does not ,vait for the 
scientist to infornl her children on questions of such importance. All 
normal things fire good, all evil is abnormal; vice is a consequence of 
ignorance only in so far as it is a result ofperverse education, and the 
troglodyte-habit is the direct offspring of mediæval monachism. Un- 
til after the fourth century of the Christian era, habitual in-door life 
between closed walls ,vas kno,vn only as tl1e worst fornl of pnnis}l- 
mente Though the Greeks and Romans were Ütmiliar with the man n- 



facture of glass, they never used it to obstruct their windows; in all 
the temples, palaces, and dwelling-houses of antiquity, the apertures 
provided to admit light admitted fresh air at the same time. The 
tU{Juria of the Roman peasants were simply arbors; and the domiciles 
of our hardy Saxon forefather
 resembled the log-cabins of Eastern 
Tennessee-rough-hewed logs laid crosswise, with liberal interspa.ces 
that serve as "windows on all sides except that opposed to the prevail- 
ing wind, north or northwest, "There they are stopped with moss. 
)\fen had to be utterly divorced from Nature before they could pre- 
fer the hot stench of their dungeon
 to tbe cool breezes of heaven, but 
our system of ethics has proved itself equal to the task. For eighteen 
hundred years our spiritual guides have taugbt us to consider Nature 
and everything natural as wholly eyil, and to substitute therefor tbe 
supernatural and the artificial, in physical as well as in moral life. The 
natural sciences of antiquity they superseded by the artificial dogma, 
suppressed investigation to foster belief, substituted love of death for 
love of life, celibacy for marriage, the t\vilight of their gloomy vaults 
for the sunshine of the Chaldean mountains, and their dull religious 
" exercises" for the joyous games of the palæstra. This system taugbt 
us that the love of sport and out-door pastimes is wicked, that tbe flesh 
has to be " crucified" and the buoyant spirit crushed to make it accept- 
able to God; that all earthly joys are vain; nay, that the earth itself is 
a vale of tears, and the heaven of the Hebrew fanatic our prover home. 
"The monastic recluse," says Ulric Hutten, "closes every aper- 
ture of his narrow cell on his return from midnight prayers, for fear 
that the nightingale's song might intrude upon his devotions, or the 
morning "rind visit hiln \vith the fragrance and the greeting of the 
hill forests, and divert his mind to earthly things from things spiritual. 
He dreads a devil ,vherever the Nature-loving Greeks ,vorsbiped a 
god." These narro\v ceBs, the dungeons of the Inquisition, the 
churches whose painted windows excluded not only the 3ir but the 
very light of heaven, the prison-like convent-schools and the general 
control exercised by the Christian priests over the domestic ]ife of their 
parishioners, laid the foundation of a habit which, like everything un- 
healthy, became a second nature in old l
abitués, and gave birth to tbat 
brood of absurd chimeras which, under tbe name of" salutary precau- 
tions," ins p ire us witb fear of the nio-ht air of-" cold drauo-hts , " of 
ð' 0 
nlol'ning dews, and of Thlarch winds. 
I have often thought that 'Jnistrust in our lnstincts woulù be the 
JllOst appropriate word for a root of evil which has proc1uc p d a more 
plentiful crop of misery in modern times than all the sensual exces
and ferocious passions of our forefathers taken together. What a dis- 
mal ignorance of the symbolic langu3-ge by which Nature expresses her 
will is implied by the idea that the s\vect breath of the sumIncr night 
,vhich addresses itself to our senses like a blcssino- fro III heaven could 
be injurious ! Yet nine out of ten guests in an ()verheated hallroom 

4 6 


or travelcrs in a crowded stage-coach will protest if one of thcir num- 
ber ventures to open a window after sundown, no matter ho,v glori- 
ous tbe night or how oppressive the efHuvia of the closed apartIllent. 
Pious men they lnay be, and most anxious to distinguish good from 
evil, but they never suspect that God's revelations are "Titten in an- 
other language than that of the lIebrew dogmatist. Here, as else- 
,vhere, men suppress their instincts Ì11stead of their artificial cravings. 
If we have learned to interpret the fact that a child whose mind is not 
yet biased by any hearsays is sure to prefer pure and cold air to the 
miaslnatic "comfort" of a close room, the troglodyte-habit will dis- 
appear, as intemperance will vanish if we recognize the significance of 
that other fact-that to every beginner the taste of alcohol is repul- 
sive, and that only the tenth or twelfth d
is of the obnoxious sub- 
stance begins to be relished; just as the Russian stage-conductor 
relishes the atmosphere of his ambulant dungeon, whatever may have 
been his feelings of horror on the first trip. 
If ever we recognize a truth which was familiar enough to the an- 
cients, but seems to have been forgotten for the last ten or twelve 
centuries, viz., that onr noses were given us for some practical pur- 
pose, tbe architecture of our dwellings, our factories, school-rooms, and 
places of ,vorship, win be speedily corrected; and even the builder of 
an immigrant-ship will find a way to modify that floating Black IIole 
of Calcutta called the steerage. Prisons, too, will be modeled after 
another plan. Our right to diet our criminals on the ineffable mixt- 
ure of odors "Thich they are now obliged to accept as air depends 
on the settlement of the question 'whether the object of })unishment is 
reform or revenge? In tIle latter case the means answer the purpose 
with a vengeance indeed: in the first case there is no more excuse for 
saturating the lungs of a prisoner with t1le seeds of tuberculosis than 
there would be for feeding him on trichinæ or inoculating him with 
the leprosy-virus. 
The exegesis of consumption very nearly justifies l\IicI1elet's para- 
dox-that the greatest evils might be easiest avoided. " There is no 
excuse for famine," says Varnhngen von Ense; ""ye could all live in 
clover if '\ve did not misapply a large portion of our arable land to the 
Ju'oduction of tobacco, opium, and other poisonous weeds, and send 
ship-loads of our breadstuffs to the distillery. I am sure that if tbe 
spontaneou5 productions of the soil furnished us mountains of grain 
and rivers of honey, 'we would still manage to use it up in the manu- 
facture of intoxicating poisons, and complain of hunger as before. If 
anyone should doubt thi
, let him reflect on tbe fact that, '\vhile we are 
surrounded by a respirable atmosphere of more than 800,000,000 cubic 
miles, civilization lias contrived a farnine of aÙ.J " 






E ACII of the stars which glitter in the depths of space is a volu- 
n1Ìnous and massive sun like that ,vhich gives light to our 
earth. Distance alone reduces them to the appearance of fixed points. 
If ,ve could approach .any one of them we sbould experience the same 
im pression as in passing from Neptune to the sun; the star 'would 
iucrease in size as we should approach it; it would soon exhibit a cir- 
cular disk and continue to increase its proportions TIntil they would 
be as large as the sun; finally, this hllninous disk, continuing to in- 
crease in consequence of our approach, would expand and present 
itself as a fiery furnace filling the entire heavens-a colossal blaze, 
under which we would be reduced to nothing, melted like ,vax, vapor 
ized like a drop of ,vater dropped on red-hot iron! Such is every star 
in the heavens. 
Each sun in space has its special sphere of attraction, a sphere 
which extends to the limit of neutralization by another. This attrac- 
tion diminishes in tbe inverse ratio of the square of the distances, 
but never becomes absolutely nothing. At the distance of Neptune 
the solar attraction is 900 times less than at the distance of the 
earth. 'Vhile the earth if it were stopped in its course ,yould fall 
toward the sun 294 hunch"ed-thousandths of a metre during the first 
second of titne, Neptune would fall only 327 hundred-n1illiontbs of a 
metre in the same time. At the aphelion distance of the comet of 
1680 the fall to,val.d the snn is only the minute distance of 4] 6 hun- 
dred-billionths of a metre during tbe first second of time. This at- 
traction continues thus to decrease as the distance increases. But, at 
tbe same time, if a body moves in the direction of one of the neigh- 
boring stars, it begins immediately to receive its influence. The star 
nearest us is at a distance 210,000 times greater tnan that 'which sep- 
arates tIle earth from the sun , or eicrht trillions of leacrues , . it is the 

star Alpha Centauri, a brilliant double star whose orbit and mass I 
have calculated. This mass is equal to the half of that of the sur.. ; 
it happens that if one conlil travel from the sun to thiR star a point 
,vould be reached where the attraction of the two would neutralize 
each other; this point is three-quarters of the distance which sepa- 
rates us, that is, six trillions of leagues from our sun, or, what is the 
same, two trillions of leagues fronl Alpha Centauri, tIle whole distance 
being eight trillions. At that point, a celestial body, a comet, .would 
hesitate a
 to which conrse to pursue, would weigh nothing, 'woula 
1 Translated from the French hy P. 
\. Towne. 

4- 8 


stop in its flight; but the feeblest outward influence would be felt, 
throwing it either into the sphere of attraction of our sun or into that 
of Alpha .Centauri. 
This sun called Centaurus is located in the southern sky, near the 
antarctic pole. It appears to us in the form of a bright star of the 
first magnitude. The sun nearest to us, next after this, is situated in 
the northern sky, in the constellation Cygnus, or the Swan. It is 
famous as 61 Cygni. Its distance is 400,000 times the radius of the 
earth's orbit, or about fifteen trillions of leagues. I have often observed 
this star: it is just visible to the naked eye, but to the telescope it is 
double, as tbe preceding, only its components do not move arou
each other, it conclusion which has much surprised me, although ar- 
riveJ at by comparing all the observatiol11\ made during tbe last hun- 
dred years; its mass, therefore, cannot be determined. But, however 
that may be, the fact which should impress us is that the distances 
which separate the suns of tbe universe are l'eckoned not by mil1ions, 
nor by bil1ions, but by trillions of leagues. 
The most brilliant star of our sky, SIRIUS, is a sun whose volume, 
judging from its light, sbould be 2,600 times larger than that of our 
sun. Its distance is about 897,000 times thirty-seven millions, that is 
about thirty-three trillions of leagues. 
Let us mention again among" our neighbors" the sixty-second of 
Ophiuchus, situated near the equator. I have calculated that it ,,"'eighs 
about three tÏ1nes as rnuch as our sun, that is, 900,000 times more 
than the earth. Its distance is 1,400,000 tiJlleS the semi-diameter of 
the earth's orbit, that is, fifty-four trillions of leagues. 
Astronomers, since the time of I{el)ler, agree in admitting that 
each of the countless suns that fin infinite space is the centre of a sys- 
tem analogous to the })lanetary s)'FstmTI of wIlÍch ,ve form a })a1't. 
Each of these suns that we see in the sky shows to us a luminous fire- 
side around which other human families are gathered. Our eyes are 
too feeble to see these unknown planets. The most po'werful of our 
telescopes do not yet reach down to these depths. But Nature con- 
cerns itself neither with our eyes nor with our telescopes, and 
o, be- 
yond the boundaries that stop the flight of our tired conceptions, she 
continues to display her boundless and magnificent 'works. 
However, the bour has come when these planetary systelns different 
fron1 ours cease to slumber in the domain of hypothesis. In spite of 
the telescope, celestial Inechanics llave already revealed the existence 
of obscure stars, inyisible in tIle rays of these distant suns, lnlt ,y}JÏch 
affect thenl in their proper movements across inlnlensity; and already 
powerful telescopes have contemporaneously recognized several among 
the stars known before to exist only in hypothesis. 
One of the most splendid conquests of sidereal astronomy has been 
the discovery of the system of Sirius, made some fifteen years since. 
For a long time, from careful measures of its position, it has been 



renlarked that this brilliant star is slowly moving in space, like all 
the other stars, but that its proper rnovement is not uniform; aud 
Bcssel annoullced, thirty years ago, that at some tinle there would be 
diseovered, without doubt, a world of its system moving around it 
and disturbing it in its progress. This discovery was Iuade ill 1862. 
The cOJnpanion of Sir
us was then almost exactly on the eastern side, 
quite slnall, and buried in the rays of the star. Since that year it has 
been constantly ,vatched 1)y the aid of po'werful instrull1ents, and it is 
seen to slowly gravitate around the t;irian suu. 
But this con1panion certainly does not follow the theoretic orùit 
calculated to corresp'ond to the I>erturbations noted in the proper 
n10ven1ent of the brilliant star. Differences more and more nlarked 
are sho\vn between the calculated ellipse and the observed ellipse. 
'The following is the orbit calculated by the Gennan astronomer Au- 
wer::; in ] 864: to correspond ,vith recognized perturbations: 
Passage by lower apsis. . . .. . . .. . .. ......................... 1793.890 
Annual movement... . . . . . .. . . .. . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . .. . . .. . . .. . . . . 70.2847:5 
Period... .. ... . . .. .. . . ., .. . . .. . . .. . . .. .. . . .. . . . . . " . . .years 49.418 
Eccentricity.........................._...... ............... 0.6010 

The last orbit calculated by AlHvers, placed in the form of the 
orbits of double stars, anù given as defillitiv(\, is the following: 
Pcrihclion passage.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 1843.275 
itude of node... . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . 61 0 .57,8 
Angle between node and perihelion.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 18".54,5 
Inclination.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 0 .8,7 
Eccentricity. '. . .. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 0.6]48 
SClni-major axis. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . '7" .331 
Period.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . years 49.399 

From these elements, the limits of distance ought to be 2.31" at 
302.5 0 in 1841, and 11.23" at 71.7 0 in 1770, and the ephenleris is- 

1862.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
] 8ô:5.. . . ., . . . . . . . . . 
1868.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
1871.............. . 

8:5 0 .4 
75 0 .0 

11 ".15 

1874. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
1876.. . . .. . . .. . . . . . 
] 878.. .. .......... 
1880.. . . .. . . . . . . .. I 

o -t 
ü4 0 .2 


But, in nlaking out my " Catalogue of Double Stars in l\IoY(\nlent.," I 
}1:1Ve found that all the ohservations on the satellite of Sirius gi \'e the 
following means for each year since its discovery: 

1862.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
1863.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
1864.. . . .. . . . . . _ . . . 
1863.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
1866.. . . . . . . .. . . . . . 
1867.. . . . . . . .. . . . . . 
1868.. . . . . . . .. . . . . . 
186ü.............. . 

84 0 .6 
82 0 .2 
79 0 .0 
'76 0 .7 
'75 0 .0 
'73 0 .9 
72 0 .3 

10" 33 

VOL. XII.-4 

1870.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
1871... . . .. . . .. . . .. 
1872.. . . .. . . . . . . . . . 
1873........ ...... 
1874.. . . . . ........ 
1875.............. . 
1876.. . . ., . . . . . . .. . 
1877.. .. .......... 

6:5 0 .0 
63 0 .0 
61 0 .3 
62 0 .7 
fi8 0 .!> 
55 0 .:> 
53 0 .2 
51 0 .0 

11 ".34 
11 ".33 
11 ".30 
11" .40 



Pardon these figures! But they form the basis of the reasonings 
'which constitute the groundwork of this article, and it is essential to 
consider them in order to know on what to rely in discussing the sys- 
tem of Sirius. In comparing t.he
e last numbers with those of the 
preceding ephemeris, we see at the first glance that the angle din1Ïn- 
ishes more rapidly than had been announced, while the distance has 
continued to increase since 1870 instead of having attained its maxi.. 
mum on that year, as the orbit of Auwers indicated. It is still fnr- 
tIler s}Jown by the diagram I have constructed tIJat tIle arc of th
observed orùit crosses the calculated orbit about 1868 and is pro- 
jected outside of it, pursuing a ,vholly different curye whid! must be 
larger than the orbit traced and less eccentric. 
If the observed nlotion ,vere the mean' motion, the reyolution of 
the satellite would be accomplished in a period of about one hundred 
aud sixty-seven years. But the arc passed is yet too sman to allow 
a,ny positive conclusion, anò, as the observed perturbations of Sirius 
(lCIUand a period of forty-nine years, ,ve are broug}lt to the conclu- 
sion that the observed cOlnpanion continues to acc(>lerate its motion 
and wilJ be found in the west. of Sirins in 1892, or else there is anoUler 
body causing- perturbation nearer Siriu
, and moving more rapidly. 
We should re!'erve all conclusions ill regard to the existence of 
these other satellites, as ,yell as all difference of period between the 
observed orbit and tbe calC'ulated orbit; but the inevitable conclusion 
is, that the observed positions do not correspond ,vith those of the 
ephemeris, and that the orbit thence resulting differs from the calcu- 
lated orbit. 
By the aid of all the observations I }Jave constructed the figure, 
which sho"Ts the movenlent of the obser,'ed planet fron1 1862 to 1877. 
The central disk represents Sirius; the four cardinal points are indi- 
cated by dotted lines; tbe proper movement of Sirius in space is 
J11arkl}d by the large arrow, whose length corresponds exactly to this 
movement during ten years (t he figure is drn:wn to the precise scale 
of ten millimetres for :1 second). If the small star discovered in 18G2 
to the east of Sirius did not belong to it, if it 'was situated ill the 
depths of space far beyond, it would have remained fixed, and Sirius 
woulJ have nloved from it in the direction indicated by the arrow. 
But, on the contrary, it belongs to Sirius, accompanies tlJat sun in its 
progress as the earth accompanies its sun, and turns around it in an 
elliptic orhit. It has yet traversed, from 1862 to 1877, only the line 
marked on the figure-a curve not long enough to enable us to calcu- 
late the remainder of its orbit. As it is seen, this Ftar is quite snla11 
by the si1e of Sirius, but still larger than Jupiter relativ('ly to our sun. 
Is it an immense planet, total1y opaque and shining only hy reflection 
of the light of Sirius? This is not probable; it must still he self.. 
luminol1s just as our own earth was during so nlany ages. It does 
not correspond exactly to the observed perturbations, a fact wLich 



o ------------ 
. 180---- 


.90 0 








\ . 
\ .

Â.. .. 

 9 11 ' 


.) \ 
27 0 



proves that the system of Sirius certainly contains other worlds yet 
unseen. Our lamented friend Goldschrnidt believed he saw three 
other planets. Thus, in conclusiou, "TC haye a solar system, outsiJe 
of our O"Tn, as an object of study. 
"r e kno,v a great number of stars ,yhich are accompanieJ by 
smaller stars n10ving around them like the earth aroulid the sun. 
These systen1s, which are now numbered by llundreds, have been so 
carefully observed that we have been able to calculate the orbits and 
periods of the planets, brilliant or opaque, which compose them. 
It is, then, 110 longer on mere hypothesis that we can speak of solar 
systems other than our own, but w'Ïth certainty, since ,ve already 
kno,v a great number, of every order and of every nature. Single stars 
should be considered as suns analogous tð our own, surrounded by 
})lanetary worlds. Double stars, of ,vhich the second star is quite 
small, should be placed in the same class, for this second star n1ay be 
an opaque planet reflecting only the light of tbe large one, or a planet 
still giving out heat and light. Douùle stars of 'which the two com- 
ponents give the sarrie brightness are combinations of tV{O suns around 
each of which may gravitate planets inY
sible from this distance; 
these are worlds absolutely different from those of our system, for 
tAey al.e lighte(l 'Up by two suns, sometimes simultaneous, sOllletiules 
successive, of different magnitudes, according to the distances of the
 from each of theln; and they have double years of which the 
winter is warn1ec1 hy a supplementary sun, and double days of which 
the nights are illuminated, not only by ll100ns of different colors, ùut 
also by a new sun, a sun of night! 
Those brilliant points 'which sparkle in tbe midnight sky, and 
which have, during so lnany ages, remained as mysteries in the imagi- 
nation of our fathers, are therefore veritable suns; Ï1nmense and mighty, 
governing, in the parts of space lighted by their splendor, systeols 
different from that of which we form a part. The sky is no longer a 
gloonlY desert; its ancient solitudes have become regions peopled 
like those in which the earth is located; obscurity, silence, death, 
which reigned in these far-off distances, have given place to ligbt, to 
motion, to life; tl10usands and n1Ïllions of suns pour in vast 'V:1ves 
into space the energy, the heat, and the diverse undulations, ,vhich 
emanate from their fires. All these movements follow each other, 
interfere, contend, or harmonize, in the maintenance and incessant 
developnlent of uni versallife. 





O OULD a man do himself up into a mathenlatical point and throw 
himself into the middle of infinite empty space, wherever that 
is, he would be surprised at the flatness of life under such circum- 
stances. Infinite empty space is absolute sameness. It is, so far as I 
ha ve traveled the field of mental possibilities, the only specimen of 
the thinkable or the unthinkable of which we can say, "It is all 
alike. " 
Should ,ve melt up the nutttcr which is supposed to be scattered 
throughout infinite space, and then, by increased heat, turn it into 
gas, and expand it ti1] all the systems of the universe became one 
infinitely-extended and equally-distributed universe of intermingled 
gases, we should have about as little variety as in the case of ell1pty 
Having unshackled the universe, and brought chaos back again, 
having secured a condition somewhat like that in which the advocates 
of the nebular theory suppose it to have been, consider what a dull 
time ,ve should have if ,ve ,vere unable to find some little nook outside 
of infinite space, and, as a result, be oùliged to amuse ourselves with 
such monotonous surroundings! It would be as wearisome as star- 
ing day after day at a blank wall without so much as a lain-streak 
on it. 
TIut Nature seems to have understood that variety is not only 
"the spice of life," but life itsclf; and no soonpr does she get in hand 
her raw n1aterial, than she sets herself to the work of creating differ- 
ences. True, some astronomers rejeet the nebular theory; but, if not 
true, it will serve as an illustration. It seems to }lave been the great 
work of Nature to multiply differences. For instance, there was a 
time or an eternity in which Nature turned out her first owl, just as 
the first patent Yallkee washing-machine must have had its day. But 
the inventors of the owl and of the was}JÍng-machine have gone on dif- 
ferentiating with unlike results. 1\10st of the wa
hing-machines are 
at rest. The fittest even scarcely survives. The owls are hooting still 
in varieties uncounted, and if, here and there, a sp(Jcimen, discouraged 
ana di
gusted with the "modern impro\"ements" of the Cainozoic 
period, gaye up the ghost, and laid himself away with the old saurians 
-his Darwinian 3ncestors-he now finds him
elf resurrecteò, his 
bones neatly wired together, and tlJC }1tlI1}an owls hooting OVf>r l}im 
still. Like th(' im1110l'tal Webster, he "still Jives" as a witne
s of 
Nature's wonderful resources as a differentiator-a difference-maker. 
But let us look further into Nature's 111ethod of creating varieties. 
Shortly after the beginning of eternity, Nature bC'gan to put the uni- 


yerse in order. She at once began to make distinctions by getting 
her material together, anù turning out worlùs. It ,vas the first step. 
Leaving other worlds to themselves, watch the progress of afrairs at 
home. As soon as the first flurry is over, Nature settles down to the 
creation of differences. She puts the solid earth as a fonndation, and 
piles the hot atmosphere above it; then she takes the 'water frQrn the 
atnlosphere, and we have air, earth, and ,vater. 'Vlth t}J(
se bIle gets 
up some low forms of life. But, as she has only begun }}er work, 8he 
makes very little difference between the OPl)osÏte ends of these forms. 
One end of a ,vorm is so much like the other end that you may cut 
him in two, and one l)art putting on a tail and the other a head, yon 
il] in a short time have two very respectable .worn1S. From these 
low forms, which carry as 1l1uch life in oue 
nd as in tbe other, :K ature 
goes on differentiating, tin at last we find her getting up forms whose 
parts are so w"idely different that each has its own work to do, and 
one part cannot be substituted for another. A man losing any organ 
is imperfect; and many of his o}'gans are such that the loss of oue of 
them requires that he should go back into Nature's melting-pot, and 
be moulded ovel. again into a new form of life-a Rhode Island pippin 
it may be, as good Roger Williams was. There is no record of any 
surgeon's having cut a man in two, and having made two men of the 
pieces. Nature is not content ,vith lnultiplying species alone. She 
sl1o,,,"s the same love for difference in varieties, and even in indi- 
viduals, so that, as we are oftèn told, there are no t,,
o peas exactly 
The utilitarian n13Y ask: "But what is the need of all this variety? 
'Vhy not have all peas alike?" This brings nle to the importaI1t part 
of Iny essay; for, whimsical as some of my notions Inay appear to 
others, the conclusion to which I hope to bring my reac1trs is to llle a 
source of moral rest: 
1. Relation of D
fference to Consciousnes8.-IIow is it that we 
gain a knowledge of the external world ,vhereby we become conscious 
intelligences? Simply by a perception of differences. ""hat would 
follow were there no difference in color or shade? Go into a dark 
cellar with an extinguished candle to find a black cat that is. not 
there. I know black is saic1 to be no color, but it answers as an illus- 
tration. Yonr eyes are ,,
ider open than when above-ground in broall 
daylight, looking for a wI1Ïte cat that is there. Things being" all of 
a color," as common people remark when left in the dark, you are for 
the time as blind as the eyeless fish. 'V ere ,\
}âte 1ight put in tl}e 
place of darkness, and each object to reflpct it with absolute sameness, 
you would be just as unable to di
tinguish between objects, or betwpcn 
an object and its background. "T ere the black cat there eating a 
white rabbit, the cat having become white you could not ten where 
cat left off and rabbit began; neitller could you tel} where cat and 
rabbit ended and cellar-floor began. E\perything would be of a piece. 



You could make out nothing, tllougb you bad as many eyes as the 
" devil's-darning-needle" of ollr boyhood, and each eye were" in fine 
frenzy rolling." Call, now, that cellar the universe, and then see if 
you can show cause why \ve nuty not consiùer the sense of sight as 
practically gone, anù all know ledge that cOlnes through sight a sealed 
book; ay, more, that nothing would be left to give us a hiut that such 
knowledge could possibly exist. 
IIow is it that ,ve receive knowledge through the ear? By noting 
tbe difference between sounds, and between sound and silence. But, 
if there ,vere no difference, there could be no hearing. If 'we had 
always listened only to a single tone, varying neither in pitch nor 
force, we should not be a'w'are of the sense of hearing. 'Ve should be 
as one born deaf. It is the difference of sounds that gives us through 
the ear knowledge and harmony. 
As with the senses named, so with smell, taste, and touch. Did 
all substances affect these senses in exactly the sanle way, how'ever 
acute those senses, ,ve should not be a ware of their existence. Ask 
anyone what is the smell of pure air, and he \vill tell you, "No 
smell." But how do we know that to be the case? As it bas always 
been in contact ,vith our snlelling-nerves, we cannot judge of its odor. 
A dweller in Jupiter cOIning to visit his mundane cousins might, when 
he struck our atmosphere, expand his nOðtrils, as one sniffs the air 
\vhen he all at once smells something very nice, or lIe might turn up 
his Jovian Bose, as though he smelt something very bad. It is an 
open question whether or not the atlnosphere is odorless, or, as a lay- 
man ,voula put it, whether it smells the same as empty space. Could 
an intelligent Ulan be pnt under an exhausted receiver, get tIle sDlell 
of a perfect vacuum, and survive to tell about it, he might throw some 
light on the question. 
To sum up my reasoning, it comes to this: Were the universe one 
of salneneS8, instead of the universe of differences that it is, we f'hould 
be unconscious of any external world, or of our own existence, no mat- 
ter though we were the best-born specimens of the scientific stirpi- 
culturist. In fact, we should be an army of negations. I 
un aware 
there is something a little queer in the logic of this paragraph, but 
yet there is a great deal of sound logic in it after putting aside the 
"queer," \vhich ,vil1, however, pass current with all except professional 
2. Relrttion to Iú
01()ledue.- What is knowledge? Only a percep- 
tion of differences. How is a knowledge of natural history, for in- 
stance, obtained? Simply by finding out differences. In this way 
child and philosopher classify the horse and the ox. Progress in 
knowledge is possiLle in proportion-I. To objective differences; and, 
2. To pf1rc
ptive ahility. Take botany. It is easy to classify those 
plants which hav
 obvious diffL'rences into genera; but, "Then \ve come 
to the classification of sub-s})ecies, the ,york is more difficult. A stu- 


CE jjIO.l..VTHL1

pid child can tell a piece of Boston brown-bread from a ginger-snap; 
but he cannot always tell whether his bread is spread with Orange 
County butter or oleomargarine. 
Again, one man is color-blind, and in a kno.wledge of colors can 
make little progress. As an engineer, he ,vould nlistake a green for 
a red light; as a paint-mixer, he would be a failure; and, as a matcher 
of dl'ess-goo(h:, he .would be little troubled by the sweet creatures to 
whom he belonged. Another lllan can distinguish not only the SEyen 
colors of the' rainbow, but many shades of each. The }1]'ogress of 
these two men in all knowledge resting upon cçlor must differ ,,
As in this, so in all departments of education: the man who is Ekillful 
in detecting differences holds the key to knowledge. 
3. Relation to Happ(ness.-The wi
e and the good of all religions 
and the philosophers of every school are plhzIed oyer what they tenn 
the evils of life. Assuming the Creator to be wise, good, and onlllip- 
otent, they wonder that he 8hould allow these eyils. They cannot 
understand the problem of pain and misery which n}eets them at 
every turn, and importunes for a solution. 'Yhy sllould there be any 
condition l)ut happiness? 
The philosophers best satisfied with the present order of tbings are 
those whom I shall name the protoplr(t:m'lcs. Denying the existence 
of a personal God, and falling back upon protoplasm as a Fubstitute, 
they think that, taking into account the humble character of their 
protoplasmic god, he has done remarkably ,yen. They aloe therefore 
very hopeful in their evolution theory, and in this re8pect }u:rve the 
advantage of their more orthodox brethren. They look upon creation 
with IJ1u('h the same feeling as that with .which we look upon the firf't 
house huilt from celIar-druin to chimney-top by a self-made arti
As a hon
e pure and simple, it may l)e a failure, but as a self-made 
artisan's first attempt it is a wonderful succ
The great army of reformers, each in his ,yay anxious to sho"T 
himself the s3yior of the world, is but another proof of this widely- 
spread belief that the ,,
orld is in a very bad fix. 
That this })roblem of evil is as old as tIle race is Fhown in the 
n-age idea, whet her it comes up in the IIebre,v religion with its 
Garden of Eden, or in the mythology of tIlE:' Gre\?ks and the Romans. 
The explanation is, perhaps, this: 
Ian clothes Ids god with tIre JJÏgh- 
est attribntes he finds in himself. Tbese, qualities he maguififs, and 
joins to them infinite po".er. Seeing that the ,,
orld is evil, an
, con- 
scious of eyil tendencies in }}imself, he finds his way out of the dileln- 
ma by asserting that thpre ".a5 once a golden age, the condition of 
the universe a
 it canle from the hand of its l\laker, and that all the 
evil that has crept into it has come frem man alone. Thus he 
the prohlem of evil, and sayes the character of his god. We mu
aòmit that the theory 8ho,n; a good dpgree of charity, Illlmility, and 
logic. It would be a still better sch(lme if in it there could be found 



a place for charity toward the poor devil whom fiS yet neither charity 
nor logic can dispose of. 
But there are other philosophers, among whOln I count myself-I 
SfiY it in all modesty, it runs in our fanlily-who fire not satisfied with 
any of these explanations, aud very natural1y ask: "Is the world a 
failure? Is it not a very good .world? Is it not, in fact, as good as 
it can be? "r ere the united wisdom and goodness of the race sUPIJle- 
nlented with omnipotence and allowed to reconstruct tIle universe: 
could they improve upon the world as it is? Are these, that we name 
so, e\"i]s, or is it that we have failed to find out their character and 
use?" I purpose to a,nswer these questions by applying to them the 
Law of Difference, which I conceive to be the panacea for t]le ills of 
life. I{eep in rniud that, as all kno,vledge comes to us as the result of 
the different" so do all emotions of pain or of pleasure. Every quality 
that is thinkable implies its opposite, or at least its different in de- 
gree. IIappiness and 11lisery are only relative tenDS. AbsoÌute IH1ppi- 
ness cannot exist any more than a lnagnetic npedle with only one' pole. 
The sick nutn who rises for the first tilDe for ,veeks from a bed of pain 
and is led out into the sunshine is very Iwppy; ,vhile the strong man 
who has not known sickness for years is unhappy from SOllle 8light in- 
disposition which scarcely interferes with his daily work. 
 hy this 
difference? Simply frolll the contrast with the previous condition. 
lIe w'ho would enjoy must suffer. The lives of some people pass so 
smoothly that ,ve count them happy. They are simply in the posses- 
sion of something whose value they have never known, hence it is to 
them worthless. If you want to know the full value of a clear con- 
science you lllust go through the }lanùs of remorse. If yon want to 
kno\\T the comfort of owning two shirts at a time, you must kno,v tbe 
discomfort of owning no shirt at a tÌ1ne. "\Vhence comes t11e pleasure 
we feel from our progress in know ledge? Fronl t.he difference l){'t ween 
the kno,ving and the not knowing of anything. Tfike the happiness 
that comes from social position in life. It arises from the fact that 
've are higher np than some one else. Bring all to the same level 
and it ,vonld be enough to make an angel weep to see how much hap- 
piness some people ,vould lose. l\Iany "
onld be bankrupt. Take the 
tramps and vagabonds out of society, and the whole fabric .would be 
cut down one story; for, to change the figure, they put one more ronnd 
into the ladder-it matters not that it is at the bottom
and give the 
climber a chance to go one round J)igher. It is the length of the lad- 
der that counts, no matter where the bottom is placed. 'Yhat arc 
wealth and poverty? Only relative terms. There is none 
o rich as 
the poor boy ,vho has just recei\Ted his first dollar after a "Tec>k of hartl 
work. "T e wa
te a great dc>al of pity on those who are born in the 
humbler ranks of life. It is Iny inlpression t ]Jat, on the "Thol<,>, it is 
better to be born pòor, and work your way up to "Tenlth and honor, 
than to have wealth and honor thrust npon you at birth, even though 
retained through Ii f0. 



Nature has done much to create differences, and human egotism 
has con1e in to second the efforts of Nature, and supplement bel' 
work by getting up differences in our favor where no such tl1Ìng in 
point of fact exists. B may be a fool, but thinks lJinJsdf wiser than 
C, who is in truth far ,viser than B. C thinks lJimself much wiser 
than he really is, and in comparing hin1self with B gets the full benefit 
of the real difference, with a large surplus from the inflation. TIJUS 
are both men made happy. Indeed, should you take each Inan's f\sti- 
mate of himself, you nlÎght, to find a fool, be obliged to do as Dioge- 
nes did to find an 110Dt>st nIan. But, if you should take eath ulan's 
opinion of other men's abilities, the fools 'would outnun.ber the wise 
men ten to one, that one being himself. Alas! what should 'we phil
opbers do were there no sÏInple souls wher,by to measure our colossal 
intellects? Thank God for wise men, but thank God for fools! Every 
fool as ,yell as every knave has done a great deal for human happi- 
ness. 'V oe is the day when tools and knaves shall be no more! 0 
stirpiculturist, stay thy hand, and leave us still a background to the 
great picture of life! And thank God for egotism, ,,,hich enahles us 
to Jnake so much out of so lit.tle. It was not tbe philoso}Jher that 
" Oh'd ! " when the poet wrote: 
"Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us 
To see oursels as ithers see us! " 

He was wiser "who wrotc- 


" Where ignorance is bliss 'tis fol1y to be wise." 
It will he a Llack-Ietter day ,vhen 'we :find ourselves out. 'Yhy not 
let us go on, each one thinking himself the biggest toad in the pud- 
dle, and being happy? 'Yhy not let us still have the difien'}}ce in our 
\'or, since it is so cheap a happiness, and withal so innocent? 
Those who agree w'ith me thus far may yet ask: "But is not the 
r as wen as the degree of differences too great? Has 110t K a- 
ture rather overdone the thing wl)en she gets up a hell-bender" (vide 
1Y"ebster and the Aquarium), "or gives us not only an Apollo whonl we 
admire, but a leper whom we loathe?" 'Vh)'", my dear sir, after all 
the ortho(lox animals \\rere made-though I d0u't Kno,v \v here you 
would draw the line between the regulars and the irregulars-you and 
I both could find HIuch pleasure in looking at a hell-bender, aud he no 
douht finds far more pleasure in being a hell-hender than in being no- 
body. IIowever many forms ,ve may have seen, we still .want to see 
something different. Yes, but how about the n1Ïserable, suffering 
leper? llow about these extrelnes of 'wretchedness? Somet.hing in 
the way of music may be got up from the eight simple tones of a 
simple octa\Yc. If yon are to have music worth hearing, you must 
extend the scale through the octave above and tJJe octave IJelow; but, 
if you wouli1. ha'"e music 'with all its pathos, power, and sul)lin1Ïty, 
you must make use of all the octaves tbat are at the comn1aud of the 



orchestra, from the low thunder of the big Boston organ to the shrillest 
""ail of the Cren10na fiddle. K or do you want the major chords alone, 
you must have the minor tones, and discords, even. Can you spare 
the lowest octave fron1 the big organ? If so, you bring the extremes 
an octave nearer, and so far reRtl"ict the range of the illstrlunent, and 
by repeating the renloval of the lowe
t notes you would at last hnd it 
impos:-,ible to play even the thinnest of tunes. 
o with hunlall society. 
As you bring the extrenles together, you take from life that which 
nlakes life worth llaving. The extremes in deep-water oyster society 
are very near each other, but each member of tbat society is only an 
oys t er. 
But ho,v about the reformers? If things are all right as they are, 
why try to change them? l\Iy dear, short-sighted IJrother, the r{'- 
former can do no harm. lIe is a benefactor. lIe is ollly helping 
K ature out. lIe may cut off now and then a low note, but by adding 
two high ones he widens the range of the instrument. Society as a 
whole advances, but its extremes are probably farther apart than ever 
before. l\Ioreover, if we take the ,vorla as a ,vhole, we can still better 
understand the value of the reforn1er. Conlpare unreformed Africa, 
w'ith its cannibalisln and slo\v travel, with America: the land of the 
Grahan1Ïte and the hOllle of the telegraph, and see if the various re- 
fornlers have not made it a glorious thing to be a Caucasian! Every 
st{>p in the llloral world secured by the reformers makes greater the 
distaI:ce ft'onl the top to the bottom of the 1110ralladder. The day 
of the Inquisition and witch-burning has gone by; but the history of 
till ren1ains. ".,.. e 11a ve only to read the old record
, to find out 
,\That nice folks we are at the present day. I adn1Ît the conceit of 
SOlne of these trouhlesome people, who believe they have a mission; 
but they are a necessary and important variety of the race. It is 
very plaill that this world is the proper stamping-ground of the re- 
lIenee, variety is a necessity of life. The man that livcs upon one 
lánd of food only must deteriorate in body; the student wllo gives all 
his thought to one idea, ,,,ill heconle crotchety; while the devotce to a 
single phase of religion wi]] in time be a higot, ,vhicll is but another 
llanle for monomaniac. Sameness is the. border-land of insanity. 
IIave you ever been "po
sessed." by a whimsical idea, or a bit of 
poetry that "TonId give you no let-up? If so, you can form some 
notion of the lunatic "Tho was haunted w'ith the idea that he {'arried 
in his stomach the twelve Apostles! There is Inany a man living a 
lifè of excef:;bive toil or of idleness, of so fixed a routine that he is l)ar- 
tially insane. It should be the aim of every lllan to 
o arrange his life 
as to hring into it a good degree of variety if he 'would secnre pllysi- 
cal, mental, and moral health. In this particular, division of labor 
often ,yorks n1Ìsehief to the indivitlual, ho"rever ::tdvantngeons it may 
he to the community. Imagine the stupidity that must creep over 



the nlind of ft man who spends year after year pointing pins! It may 
 well to inquire as to whether or not the social and business frame- 
work of socil..ty is not doing much to reduce some of its n1
nl bers to a 
state little Letter than monomania. 
To enforce the lesson taught by the La,v of Differences we will 
pass by a n1Ïl1ion years,1vhile I give the reader a picture of tlJe recon- 
structed universe. It had been reformed to that degree that tbe wild- 
est dr{lalIl of the idealist had been realized. Desiring to have one 
nlore look at the old hon1estead, I came back from spirit-Iallcl, was 
" n1aterialized," and once more walked the solid earth as was Iny ,vont 
a nlÍllion years before. I need not say I was not quite np to the 
times. The first thing I noticed was that my physical geograllhy was 
all at fhult. There were no burning sal1
s, no icy .wastes, 110 earth- 
quake, no tornado, no flood, no drought. The ".hole earth from pole 
to pole was on the golden-age pattern. In this respect, desire 
,vas satisfied. For ceuturies no one had been heard to complain of 
any imperfection. All ,vas lovely. To me, with a recollection of 
wbat I had suffered in my youth in cold and barren K e,v England-- 
teu in the family, and all big eaters-the change "
as delightful. But 
hat was my surprise not to find a single soul to share my pleasure! 
\V"hen I talked to those I n1et of their b(>autiful world, I spoke in 
an unkno"'
n tongue. I might as .well have tried to convince Jones, 
the druggist, that pure ail' was as fragrant as the odors w}Ú(,h l,I(',v 
from Araby the Illest, or any ot11er Araby. Jones 'would have told 
me, "I have had air in 111Y nose for fifty years, and, if there is any 
smen in it, don't you suppose I SI}Ollld have founa it out in tl}at 
til11e ? " They "
ere as stolid as IDnrble, and as unenthusiastic as a 
proper woman who never felt the slightest twinge of hope, fear, lo\.e, 
hate, or anything else, except propriety. "It is strange," said I, 
"that no one understands what I feel. . . . 'V ell," I thought, "tlley 
haye never known anything different, 'ana as a result they do not 
kno,,'" this." 
I was no less agreeably surprised at the men and ,yomen whom I 
found peopling the globe. The stirpicu1tnri
t had finished his work 
and gone home. There was not a physical deforn1Ïty of any kind 
an10ng the n1illions that .walked the earth. AU ",.ere brought up to 
the highest type of physical beauty. There was not a WOn]3.11 I n1et 
with whom I did not instantly faU i
 love, though it was like Cali- 
ban falling in love with tIle houris. Ev{'ry man was an Apollo, and 
every ,,"'oman a Venus. But I "
as surprispd to see them so bliud to 
each other's charms. The men were the slowest of slow loyers; the 
women as responsive as lay-figures. "Ah! wen," I sighed, "they never 
saw in man or in won1an anything but heauty, and now they 
ee not 
that." It 
eemed that a sight of me, which some of them could not en- 
dure '\vithol1t a 
hudaer, had lwg'un to awaken in them a ne"
en8e of 
which the stirpicuIturist had robbt'd them-a sense of the beautiful. 



Being hy nature benevolent, and inheriting a missionary spirit, it did 
rne goud to think that I was serving so useful a purpose, anù starting 
a Inission for the conversion of the
e heathcn ill æ:sthctics. 'Vith a 
force that almost took away my brcath, it canle to Ille that we owe a 
grcat debt to the deformc<1, the hiùeous, anù the wicked; that those, 
the morally hideous, whom society hunts down as its wor:st ellcillic
spend their lives in serving the very class tbat seeks to det5troy thcl11. 
Then, too, the goodne
s and holincss of the reconstructeJ ,vorlJ ! 
There ,vere lliet with only those witb whom, having been so well gen- 
crated for a thousand years, regeneration was iUlpossihle. A long 
line of physical, menta], and moral saints were the ancestors of the 
race. "'V hat a perfect heaven!" I said to them. But I founa upon 
their faces only a gingerbrcad-rabbit expression. Such ,vol'd::, as 
heaven and hell conveyed to them no more idea tban green or red 
conveys to a blind nUln. I was in despair at such a lack of appre- 
ciation. IIere was lnactically the heaven .upon earth which tbe race 
had worked for, prayed for, agonized for; and, now that it baù cOIne, 
no one seemed to enjoy it, or even to know of its existence. It is 
truly a misfortune to be born in and always to live ill heaveu. The 
eternal Law of Differences holds us fast. IIell is a necessity, which 
must be as deep as heaven is high. The .world ,vas better as it was 
before the reconstructers got hold of it. Give us back the iron age! 
All is not gold that glitters. }'Iy prayer was answered, and I fouud 
myself once more in this ,vorld of sin and holiness, joy and SOITO'V- 
in a ,vord, back in this world of differences. 



, F. G. S. 

O OXCERXING the Glacial period, geologists hold the nlost variec1 
opinions, hoth with regard to its origin and to the mode of ac- 
tion of the ice. Thus at the very threshold of the geological record ,ye 
tread on uncertain ground, and every guide points to a different path. 
The rrlation that palæolithic man hore to the great ice agp might 
seenl to be of easier solution; but even this question is l1Jls('ttled, and 
a subject of controversy and douht. Prof. Prestwich is belicved by 
many to have proved that palæolithic man ,vas pGst-
Iaeial. l\Icssrs. 
Croll and Geikie urge that there ,vere t,vo or n10re glacinl Iwriods in 
post-tertiary times, and that he flonrislled in a mi1d intcrgl
cial pe- 
riod. I, on the contrary, lutve been gradually forced to conclude 
that., in the Bl"itisl1 Isles, all the remains in caves ana vaney-gravcls 
referred to palæolithic man are preglacial, in the sense that they are 



of earlier date than the glaciation of the districts in which they are 
I propose to state briefly some of the general arguments that have 
influenced Iny opinion, and tllen to deal with the speeial question of 
the age of the deposits at Hoxne, which the advocates of the post- 
glacial theory put for\vard as being undoubtedly in their favor. 
Let us first take into consideration the age of the beds contailJing 
the remains of the man1moth, the 'woolly rliinoceros, and their com- 
panions, ,vith which the palæolithic inlplements arc so often found. 
\Vherever, in Europe, the relation of these beds to the bowlder-clay 
can be clearly seen, they are of distinctly older age. Thus, in I{uss
Sir Roderick I. l\Iurchison has recorded the discovery of the hones of 
the nlammoth and woolly rhinoceros, neà l\loscow, in reddish clay 
covered with erratic blocks, on the plains thirteen miles distant ti'om 
the river.! And if we follow the northern drift southward from 1\108- 
cow, as I have done, we find it gradually changes from clay with bowl- 
ders to the clay '\Tithout bowlders that covers the soud ern plains. 
Around the sea of Azov, cliff.
 of this glacial clay, one lnlndred feet 
high, can be followed continuously for miles, and its junction below 
with the o!der beds is sharply defined. It rests on a fresh-water de- 
posit contailling shells of species of "L"11Ïo, Cye/as, and Paludina, and 
at this horizon fragments of the tusks and bones of the mammoth are 
abundant, and are ahvays undoubtedly older than the glacial clay. 
In a similar position the same remains have been found at Odessa and 
other places in the south of Russia. 
Nor 11a8 the theory of the post-glacial age of the remains of the 
mammoth remained unchallenged by eminent geologists in England. 
Prof: Phillips 2 and 1\11'. Godwin Austen 3 long ago recorded tJleir con- 
viction that they belonged to an earlier period than t]Je del]osition of 
the bowlder-clay, and that when they occur in ne,yer beùs they have 
been derived from an older formation. The remains are so })lentiful 
in the caves of the north of England that it is certain that the mam- 
moth and rhinoceros were abundant. Yet nowhere in the glaciated 
parts of the country have the bones been found excepting where pre- 
served from the action of the ice in caverns and fissures. 
Thus, in tracing the limits of the northern ice on the eastern side 
of England, I have found that Durham and Northumberland were 
probahly completely overflowed by it, exceptÍ11g tlle upper parts of 
the Cheviots, as pointed out to me by 1\[1'. Richard Howse. The ice 
strean1ed through from the west, around the southern and northern 
flanks of the Cheviots, down the \
aneys of the Tyne and the T,,
and ,,
hcn approaching the pastern coast was deflected to the south hy 
the great luass of ice that occupied and waSt flowing do,vn the ùed of 

I " Geolog}' of Russia in Europe," p. 650. 
2 " Geology of .
y orkshire," 1829, vol. i., pp. 18, 52. 
3 " British Association Reports," ] 863, p. 68. 



the G
rman Ocean. In Yorkshire the ice from the west was held 
back by the Pennine Chain, and did not coalesce with the German 
Ocean glacier, but stopped short, Eomewhere about an irregular line 
drawn from l{eighley, northeastward to near the mouth of the Tees. 
The Gernutn Ocean glacier only, as it were, grazed tbe high land bor- 
derinO" the coast until it reached the northern shores of l\ orfoJk that 
stood out across its track. A large })ortion of Yorkshire was thus 
ne\yer glaciated by land-ice, and in this area remains of the great ex- 
tinct mammals have been found in and below the lowland gravels, as 
at Leeds and l\Iarket 'Veighton; but when we pass nurthwestward 
into the country where the striæ on the rock-surfaces bear witness to 
the pa
sage of land-ice, no such remains are found, excepting in cav- 
erns and fissures of the old rocks. 
The northwestern side of England is much more glaciated than 
the northeastern, and the mammalian remains have only been found 
where preserved in caves. The ice filling the Irish Sea reached to 3. 
height of 2,000 feet on the western flank of the Pennine Chain. 
Probably reëllforced from the westward it continued, in scarcely de- 
creasing thicknes
, across the ,vhole of Lancashire and Clleshire, and 
passed over into the drainag
 area of the Severn, down which valley 
it appears to have flowed for some distance. As soon as ,ve get 
beyond its influence ,ve again meet with malnmalian remains in the 
lowland gravels, and in most of the southern valleys they are abun- 
If the man1moth and its associates roamed as far as the north of 
England, and even into Scotland, after the Glacial per!od, their re- 
mains ought to be found in the valley-grayels of the glaciated dis- 
tricts. They are, however, absent; and if we should be led to infer 
frotn this that they lived before the glaciation of the country, and 
accept the conclusion of Prof. Phillips and 1\11'. Godwin Austen that 
the mammoth and the ,vool1y rhinoceros lived before ana not after 
the Glacial period in Great Britain, we can scarcely refrain from going 
further than these geologists and concluding that the n1al,ers of the 
palæolithic implements ,vere also preglacial. For no geological in- 
feren.ce seems based upon sounder evidence than that palæolithiC' man 
,vas contemporaneous with the mamn10th and its associates. The im- 
plements of the one and the bones of the others are found together in 
ame stratunl of the cave-earth, and in all the numerous cayerns 
that have ùeen searched in Engl31Hl and 'Vales t1lere i
 no record of 
palæolithic implenlents being found at a hi,gher horizon; when flint 
weapons do so occnr they are in\yariably of the neolithic type. If 
geological evidence of contemporaneity is of any value, tIle occupation 
of the cayes by palæolithic man ceased at the same time as the great 
mammals disappeared. 
Let us look at the question from another point of ,'iew'. In th
south of England the remains of the 111a111moth are abunùant in the 



. They are found mixed through them, or 11101'e com- 
lllonly at their base. Palæolithic im}Jlelllents are found ill the same 
position, though usuaHy in grayel higher up on the slopes of tbe \"al- 
leys. '''''"hen found in the grave], the bones are broken and "
orn, aut! 
the flint inlplelllcuts lIa \"e their angle::; rounded more or h
bS as if by 
rolling. "Then, as has happened ill a few cases, the bones and imple- 
Inents have been found below the gravels, they ha"e bel}) uuinjnreJ 
anJ unworn. Dir. Godwin Austen noticed the occurrence of bO)1(;s of 
the manlll10th in an old fJrest-bed heneath the -valley-gravels, at 
I>easclnarsh, in Surrey, uninjured and lying together, wLile in the 
overlying gravel the teeth of the nl:llllilloth were found singly aJ1d 
rolled. 1 And Colonel Lane Fox lias recorJed tIle discovery of flint 
inlplenlents at Acton in seanlS of white S\lnd, nine tel't fronl the 8ur- 
face, beneath deposits of gl avel and ùrick-eartþ} ThEir edges were 
as sharp as if just flaked off a core of flint; while those found in the 
gravel, on the contrary, ha,Te their edges ,vorn and rounded just like 
those of the subangular pebbles of ,vhich the gravel is principally 
com posed. 
The position and the state of preservation of the bones and imple- 
l11ents ar
 such as might be expected if they had been deposited on 
an old land-surface before the outspread of the gravels, when th<? con- 
figuration of the country was much the same as now; and I 11ave sug- 
gested that the occnrrence of the iUIpleIDel1ts, generally 11igher np the 
slopes of the ,'alleys than the mamll1alian renJains, is due to pa]æo- 
lithic man lJaving frequented nlore eleyated and drier localities than 
the great l11ammals. I have urged that the outspread of the gravels 
was due, as fornlerly supposed by Sedge,vick, De la llecllp, and ::\Iur- 
chison, to the action of a great flood or delmcle. I }Jaye advanced the 
theory t}lat that debacle was caused bjT the breaking away of a bar- 
rier of ice that blocked up the English Channel, and with it nll the 
drainage of Northern Europe, causing an immense lake of frt:'sh or 
brackish ,vater that ,vas thns suddenly and tumu1tuously discharged. 3 
This great flood occurred, according to 111Y theory, hefore the cul- 
mination of the Glacial I)eriod, and was primarily due to ice filling the 
bed of the North Atlantic as far south on the European side a
tude 40 0 . If the gra,'els in and belo,v which the rude flint inl}Jle- 
nlents and the remains of the ('xtiuct Inanlmals are found, were thus 
spread out, it fonows that they were preglacial in the sense that they 
live(l hefore the principal glaciation of the country. 
'Ve have seen that, in the north, Ruch an excellent geologist as 
the late Prof. Phillips had arrived at this conclusion with regard to 
the age of the mammoth, the woolly rhinoceros, and the 11ippopota- 

I Quarterl.'1 Jow'nal of tlte Geological Society, vol. vii., p. 288. 
2 Ibid., yol. xxviii., p. 456. 
3 Qllnrlerl.'l Journal of Science, April, 1875. Quartc'rly Journal of tite Geological 
Bocid!J, vol. xxxii., p. 84. 



mus; and, in the south, 1\lr. Godwin Austen, from a study of the same 
remains in the valley-gravels. Direct evidence of great value has been 
added by 1\lr. Tiùdilnan in his reports on the exploration of the Vic- 
toria Cave, at 
ettle. lIe has shown that the cave-deposits lie be- 
neath glacial clay, and, among the other remains, a human fibula has 
been found.! In the Cefn Cave, in Denbighshire, 1\11'. l\Iackintosh has 
also determined that the mammalian remains lie in and below a gla- 
cial clay.2 
All the lines of inquiry tl1us far pursued in this paper point to the 
preglacial age of the remains in question, and some of the facts are 
directly opposell to the post-glacial theory. IIow, then, is it that the 
great nlajority of geologists \vrite as if it had been clearly proved that 
palæolithic Inan "Tas of post-glacial age? Principally because it is be- 
lieved that Prof. Prestwich has proved that at IIoxne, in 
uftolk, the 
implenlents and bones are found in deposits distinctly overlying 
bowlder-clay. This is spoken of as if it were a truism in 1110St general 
es on geology; 3 and both in Europe and America the presnmp. 
tion is appealed to as being conclusÌ\ e with regard to the age of the 
remains. The general opinion held is concisely given in the statement 
by Mr. J Oh11 Evans in his presidential adùress to the Geological So. 
ciety last year, that, at Hoxne, " the impl
aring beds repose 
in a trough cut out in the upper glacial bowlder-clay, which itself rests 
on middle glacial sands and gravels." · 
This opinion of the age of the Hoxne deposits is founded on the 
elaborate memoir by Ploof. Prestwich, published in the" Philosophical 
Transactions of the Royal Society," for 1860. In this treatise the 
author gh'es a diagram showing the deposits in question lying in a 
trough cnt out in the bowlder-clay. Though this section is confessed. 
ly only theoretical, it was accepted by Sir Charles Lyell and others as 
an actual on
, and afterward the author bimself wrote as if he had 
proved his theory to be true,:'>> which he nlay .well be excu
ed for have 
ing done, when it had been accepted by so many eminent geologists. 
The writings of Prof. Prestwich are admirable in this, as in other 
respects, that, although he indulges in wide-reaching theories, he in- 
variably gives the evidence on which they are founded. Thus, in the 
memoir in question, in addition to tIle theoretical diagram he gives 
another, showing the actual faets observed, and also careful details of 
the various sections observed by him. It is, therefore, possible to 
check his theory hy his fact
, and in the present pal)er I shall do so, 

1 Jralure, vol. ix., p. 14. " British Association Reports," for 1873, 1874, 1875. 
2 Quarterly Jow'nal of tIle Geological Society, vol. xxxii., p. 91. 
S Sir Chat"les Lyell, " Antiquity of :;\fan," p. 166. J. Geikie, "Great. Ice Age," p.474-. 
J. Croll, "{;Iirnate and Time," p. 241. 'V. Boyd Dawkins, "Cave-Hunting," p. 410. 
Jukes's" Students' Manual of Geology," p. '736. 
4 Qnnrtrrl.'l Journal of the Geological Socie(I/, vol. xxxi., p. 74. 
5 " Philm:ophical Tr
nsactions," 1864-, p. 253. 
TOL. xlI.-5 

. . 


and also give the results of my own examination of tJJe Hoxne dis- 
::\1... John Frere, so long ago as the firRt year of the present cen- 
tury, communicated to the SoeÍety of Antiquaries an "A('count of 
Fliut 'Yeapons discovered at I-Ioxne, in Suffolk." 1 He statcd that 
they were found in great numbers in a bed of gravel, which ,yas over- 
laid by one foot of sand with shells, and containing the jawbone and 
t('eth of an enormous animal; the sand being again coyered by seven 
and a half feet of brick-clay. 1\11'. Frere noticed that the strata lay 
horizontalJy, and had been denuded to form the present vaHey, and 
therefore concluded that they belonged to a period when tIle configu- 
ration of the surface was different from what it is no'w, and he consid- 
ered that their antiquity was posRibly "ev't
n beyond t11at of the pres- 
ent world." The mannl'r in which the flint implements lay, and theì1" 
great abundance, led 1\11'. Frere to conclude that a manufactory of 
them had been carried on at the place 'where he found them. 
Tbe discovery does not appear to have excited any attention at 
the time, and for more than half a century remained unnoticed. In 
1859, when the discovery of flint implements in the valley of the 
Somme, in France, in association with the remains of the man1IDoth 
and other extinct mammals, had at last aroused the attention of geolo- 
gists, 1\11'. Frere's memoir "Tas brought by 
lr. J ohu Eyans before the 
notice of 1\11'. Prestwich, who had just returned fronl Amien
. lIe 
soon after visited IIoxne, and carefully examined into the facts of the 
case. He found that the bed of brick-clay W3S still being worked, 
and that flint implements were occasionally, though rarely, turned up; 
and on a subsequent visit ,vith 1\11'. Evans they succeeded in disinter- 
ring OTIe themselves. 
The valleys of the ",r aveney and its tributaries are bounded by 
low hills of gravel and bowlder-clay. The bed-rock is not seen in any 
of the sections exposed, but it is supposed to be chalk. The gravels 
and sands (the middle glacial sands and gravels of 
lr. Searles 'Y ood, 
Jr.) are exposed in many gra\.el
pits on both sides of the 1\T aveney. 
They are sometimes capped by the upper bowlder-clay; at ot herR, hy 
a more sandy bed with stones (the" trail" of .:\11'. Fisher), which in 
some of the sections graduates into the upper bowlder-clny, of which 
I b
lieve it to be the ID.odifìed representative. One of the deepest' 
sections on the north bank of the \Vaveney is nf\ar the road from Di:ss 
to IIarleston, at Billingford, where the series of beds shown in Fig. 1 
are expoRed. 
1\lr. Fisher some time ago called attention to the great importance 
of the upper bed, or "trail," in the study of the glacial beds,2 hut it 
has not yet received tbe notice it deserves. It is tbe most })ersif;tent 
-of all the beds in the southeastern counties, and can be traced, in a1- 

1 cc Arcnæologia," 1800, vol. xiii., p. 2()ß. 
! Quarttrly Journal of the Geological Socíe(l/, vol. xxii., p. 553. 




most every section, from Norfolk into Surrey. It is everY"There f:een 
in the Thames Valley lyillg on the top of the lowland gravels, and is 
shown in great perfection in the long section now (l\Iarch, 1876) ex- 
posed between Acton and Han,vell, on the Great ",.. estern Rail way. 

r-----s 0 i L- 
' 1 
 .-: r-: .
.: Q '::;-
" o 

,-_ '. " -. :,. '..O'Þ.,;".; '" .....'..0 -, ""')...$
 I ' 



"'.'ó" .I-.O
.......i'" ..-. 

' 3 
-";':"""" ;;;



: :;:.;

FIG. t.-Scale twelve feet to one inch. 1. SftTldy cley, or" trail," with patchE's of sand (8) and scst- 
tereel flints, mostly in nests, at the in'egulal' ba8e of the deposit. 3. Sands and gravel. fah:e- 
bedded with lenticular beds of saud (8), aud in the lowest seams rounded );ebbles of chalk. 

It generally, if not always, rests upon an irregular surface of the beds 
below it, and contains stones derived from some other source. 
On the south side of the 'Vaveney, at Sylebam, there are gooel 
sections on both sides of the turnpike, and these exhibit similar false- 
bedded sands and gravels, wbich are, ho,vever, covered by the upper 
bowlder-clay instead of by "trail." Fig. 2 sho,vs a section exposeù 

ø" :::::: ..:.....
 ;,:;:.......: :..':0.,:;' !.




f S@;i 

.-Brown howidcr-c1ay, with many whole flint8. and with angular patcheB of red 
ßnd (B" 
marly clay with 8mall 8tones (A). alld red bowlder-day (0). 3. SandA and subangular fiint., 
gravel with round
d pebble of quurtz, and (in the lowe
t. seams) of chalk. 

on Ule south side of the turnpike. ...4. little farther west, on tbe north 
side of the turnpike, is another grav(\l-pit, sno,ving a similar succes- 
sion, but ,vith the beds of sand and gravel strongly fah:e-bedded. In 
all these sections small pebbles of chalk are very abundant in the 
lowest beels. The most remarkable feature in the upper bowlder-clay 
is the numerous angular patches of material quite different from the 
matrix of bro\vn clay. The angular patches of red sand are very pe- 
culiar and diffieult to explain. 
In a large gravel-pit a little north of Oakley Church there i
 a long 



section exposed, and in it the upper bow]der-clay, f'imilar to that shown 
in Fig. 2, at one end of tbe pit, gradually changes into a san(ly loam 
with stoneR and angular patches of sand, not to ùe distinguisll(
d from 
tl)e deposit named" trail" in Fig. 1. 
At Hoxne itself, on the east side of Gold Brook, tlJCre is a gravel- 
pit sho,ving seams of gravel and sand exactly sinlilar to tJwt at Sy]e- 
ham, but surmounted by sandy" trail" instead of by bowlder
cl:lY. The 
gravel is not to be distinguished from the other, Leing compof'ed like 
ubangular flint-pebbles with rounded ones of quartz aud quart- 
zite, anù with many sillall pebbles of chalk in the lowest Eeams. N ot- 
withstanding this great siulilarity, 1\11'. Prestwich con
iders the bt'd
at J-Ioxne to have been fonned by riyer-action in p08t-g]aci
1l tilnes ; 
while those at Syleham, being capped by bo
lder-clay, he of necessity 
classifies as nlÍùdle glacial. Yet I could find no difference whatever 
in their appearance or composition. In both the pebbles are rno
small and subangnlar, witb some rounded ones of quartz and quartzite. 
Both contain many small pebbles of chalk in their lowest seams, and 
both are false-bedded. That one is covered with bowlder-clay aud the 
other by sandy" trail" does not suffice to prove them of different age, 
for at the Oakley gravel-pit we can trace the same gravels from one 
end, where the bowlder-clay overlies them, to the other, where tIJe 
"trail " 
loes so. The middle sands and gravels are generally sup- 
posed by 
eologists to he marine, and it is incredible tbat deposits due 
to such different agencies as that of the waves of the ocean heating on 
a beach and that of a flooded river should be absolutely identical in 
appearance and cou1position. But nowhere is either the ocean or any 
river known to be fornling deposits of subangu]ar peLbles, except iug 
wl)ere they are eutting into prf'ëxisting beds oft he Iniddle glacial series. 
Both in sea and in river beaches the pebbles are smoothly rounded, and 
not, as in the gravels unùer consideration, brol
en and suhangular. 
Even when we find in the latter rounded peLbles of tertiary age there is 
often a piece chipped 011t of them as if they had been da
heù viol(:nt- 
ly together. I have had a large numher of the pebbles from the gravel 
at Ealing counted, and find that over eighty per cent. are broken or 
subangular. I ask "yhere, in the whole ,vorhl, is 
ueh a deposit being 
formed by existing a
encies? Snrely, if ordinary floods wou]ò pro- 
duce them, they haye ha"d plenty of opportunities of doing 80 durÌ1)g 
the past pluvial year; yet ,vhere, on the banks of any of our rivers, 
bave the great floods }f>ft deposits e,Ten approaching in character to 
those that geologist s confident I y ascribe to river-action? rflw t tht'Y 
were can
ea by a great flood I fully helieye, thongh not by that of any 
river, but by one that swept over the whole country, driving a )Illge 
mass of gravel and 8all,l, and leaving the1n mantling 1101h }JÏIJ
valleys, holding or covering np the remains of palæolithic run)) and the 
great ]l1ammals that had. lived before the ,vaters "Tere pEnt np Ly the 
Atlantic glacier. 



A little above IIoxne, on the left side of the streanl called the 
Gold B.'ook, is the Hoxne clay-pit. The c]ay is excavated along the 
slope of the shallow va1J(.y through 'which the brook runs. The road 
to Eye skirts the hill-side, having to the west the park of Sir Ed,vard 
I{errison; and to the east, bet ween it and the stream, a narrow strip 


.... 0 


> :... 


/j :1 
, c..c:l 



? I 





......c: " 



":j 0 








. .", 
 S oå 








';'1 1 

r r-, 




. ..... >. 


r. '" 






::: c :) 
-n.;:: ":j 

.....s 0 



..::I Q) 


...J ..... 



::! !:.c::: 


o'g 8 
clJ clJ- 
7. "d S- 
o Q).... 









( . 
CJ j
 \ 1U 




- ,


(.) .. 

'S ::s 

.. 32 5 







CJ .-- 


-c; :: 
( .. õ 






ii:: . 



... L. 



t:! .- 





of land from which th
 clay has been dug. The old workers had 
comn1cnced near the viIlage of T-Ioxne, and as they gradualJy exhaust- 
ed the clay up to the road they Juov-cd hl,rther southward, and the 
point at ,vhich it is now excavated is })robably at least a quarter of a 

.7 0 


mi1e distant from that where :\11'. Frere lnadc I1Ís di<5coveries in 1800. 
The pit has now been worked up to some farn1-buildings that inter- 
fere with its progress southward, and to get c]ay they have now 
crossed th
 road into the park, and thus made a most important aù- 
dition to the section laid open. 
I have in the accompanying plate given three sections of the 
f!round. The first shows the theoretical relation of the beds accord- 
ing to Prof. Prestwich; the second exhibits tbe facts actuaUy ob- 
served by Prof. Prestwich and n1yself; and the third is a theoretical 
section showing the relation that the beds }101d to each other accord- 
ing to my o\vn views. "T e shall in the first place confine our atten'" 
tion to the second section (Fig. 4), showing the facts actually obscryed. 
:': ;:':2.g
i :: :
,:,:::<:..'.: 1 
I I ,,- ,
! -, I ", 
. __.{ 
. 6' 
. .:

 . .., 




FIG. 6.-1. "Trail," three feet. 6' and 6. Bowlder-clay, chalky in upper part: 8 slight line of divi
ion between it and the lower part, which is principally cowposed of cru:shed Kiwweridge clay witb 
pieces of chalk. 

On the east side of Gold Brook a cutting has been made into tIle 
bank, and a thick b
d of bowlder-clay is exposed. At the })oint A in 
general section the beds are shown, as in Fig. 6. N ear the line of 
division the upper and more chalky clay contains many large flints 
and tran
ported bowlders. Some of these are -smoothed, and strongly 
scratched and grooved. Two scratched blocks of septaria that J sa,v 
D1easured one and a half foot across. This bowlder-cl3Y, both in 
its upper and 10'wer dh'ision, is very distinct in appearance aud COlll- 
])osition from that lying ahove the gravels, as seen in other sections. 
Lower do,,
n toward the brook a seam of false.bedded sandy gravel 
comes in hetween the bowlder-clay and the" trail," and represents, I 
think, the gravels of Figs. 1 and 2. 
Crossing the brook and ascending the opposite slope, "
e ]1ave, ht 
the points C and.D of general section, typical sections of tbe clay- 
pit, as 
hown in Fig. 7. The clay (4 in section) is called" rf'd-brÎck 
earth" by the workmen, because it burns to a red color; \vhile t]le 
lower, dark-colored clay (7 in section) is called" white-brick earth," 
c it burns to a white color. The bottom of the latter bed has 
not been reac1Ied, although Prof. Prestwich had a boring put down 
into it to a depth of seventeen feet. It is fuB of vegetable matter, 
aüd I found numerous pieces of ,vood in it. The men pointed out to 
me the gravel-seams (5 in section), as the horizon at which flint imple- 
ments had been found; but, shortly before Prof. Prestwich visited the 


7 1 

pit, t,yO specimens had be
n taken from the lower part of the c!ay (4 
in section). There can be little doubt, however, that they were found 
by )11'. Frere in the gravel below the "red-brick earth," as he says 
that" they lay in great nun1bers at the depth of about t,velyc feet in 

t l 
'III I I I \ II ! I! ,I 

--==::::-- -- - - 


.: .
:.:; ;
: ..:: :
.- ':.::: 
:'::: ::::': :..::


. 7.-1. Sandy" traiP' with flint-pebbles. 4. Yellowish-brown clay, unstratified at top nnd 
downward into obscurely stratified chalky cl3y-ten fel't. 5. Two thin bands of 8maJl ch31ky gravel, 
sepal.ated by eight inches of loam. 7. D3rk calcareous clay, with f1"3gments of wood and other vt:'ge- 

a stratified soil, wllÎch was dug into for the purpose of raising clay 
for brick
. Under a foot and a half of vegetable earth was c1ay seven 
and a half feet thick, ancl beneath this one foot of sand with shells, 
and under this t,vo feet of gravel, in which the shaped flints were 
found generaIIy at the rate of five or six in a Fquare vard. The man- 
ner in ,vhich the flint implclllents lny would lead to the persuasion 
that it "
as a place of their manufacture, and not of their accidental 
deposit. Their numbers were so great that the man ,vho carried on 
the brick,vork told me that, before he ,vas aware of their being ob- 
jects of curiosity, he had emptied baskets full of them into the ruts 
of the adjoining road." 
As I have already mentioned, the place at which the clay is now 
excayate'] is some distance from that ,vhere 1\lr. Frere found the 
implmnellt s , and they are now very seldonl m
t v;ith-so seldom, 
that none of the men ,,,rorking at the clay-pit when I was there had 
ever seen one. 
To the west of the road, in the 1)it that. has been opened in Sir Ed- 
,yard l{errison's park, a section of the beels has been exposed at thc 
point marked .b'in general section, as shown in Fig. 8. The most re- 
Inarkable feature in the section is the occurr
nce of the npper clay (2 
in section), containing angular patches of red sand, like that seen in 
the "upper bowlder-clay" of other parts of the district. I cannot 
help thinking that, if this section had been open when Prof. Prestwich 
examined the deposits, he ,vonld have been led to modify his opinion 
respecting the relation of thc deposits to the Glacial periocl. I mysc1f 
believe this clay to he the upper howlder-clay, a11(l the sand with peb- 
bles below it to be the" n1Ï<ldle glacial sands and gruyels." 
To trace the "red-brick earth" (4 in fo'ection) clown toward t])C 
lower bowlder-clay, I set SOIne men to ,vork, and had a shaft sunk-at 

7 2 


the point marked B in general section-to a depth of seventeen feet 
from the top of the surface-soi], and obtained the section sl}own in 
Fig. 9. The most noticeable feature in tllÌs section is the tbickening 
out of the false-bedded sands and gravels, thpir res('mùlance to the 
middle glacial series, and the absence of tJ)e ",vhite-brick eart1. " (7 in 
section). In a pit a little east of this, Prof. Prestwich and )11'. John 
Evans found a flint implement in the gravel-bed (3 in section). 



----- - 

FIG. 8.-1. Sandy h trllil " with flints graduating downward into sand, filling pipes in cIav below. 
2. Unstratified yellow clay, containiu,e- i8o]ated angular patches of red(iÍl.h Fat1d. 3. 'WIJÏtif:h 
saud with a few Fcattered pebbles, sometimes chßng-ing into reddish 8and. like that of the 
patches in the clay above. 4. Ye]Jowish-brown clay C' red-brick eartb "), unstratified at top 
and graduating duwnward into laminated caJcareou6 clay. 

I have now ghTen all the facts at present known re
pecting the re- 
lation of these beds to the Glacial period, and I proceed to the consid- 
eration of Prof. Prestwich's theoretical views, as shown in the general 
section (Fig. 3). In the first place, Prof. Prest,vich identifies the ùowl- 
der-clay seen in the pit on the east side of the brook as the upper 
how Ider-clay. As I haye already n}ention
d, it in no respect reSE:'ID- 
bIeR the clay seen in other sections above the false-bedded bands and 
gravel, and thp existence of the middle glacial beels below this par- 
ticular depoRit if; entirely theoretica1. Prof. Prestwich makes these 
sands and gravel to pass under the brick-clays; and I feel coufident 
it ,viII astonish many of tbose who appeal to this section, as proof of 
the post-glacial age of palæolithic man, to learn that thf>Y have never 
been seen in this position, and that their presence is an assnmption 
only. The" reel-brick earth" ought, according to Prof. Prestwich's 
views, to thin out eastward, anel the dnrk clays or "red-ùri{'l\: earth" 
to crop up to tl}e surface from underneath it. Insteaù of t},is, as 
shown in Fig. 8, at the point B in general section, the "red-brick 
earth" fol1ows down the slope of the hi]], alld is not underlaid at aU 
at that point by the dark clays. I do not, ho,vever, attach much im- 
portance to this, as the "red-brick earth" migllt mantle the hil1, 
overlapping the edge of the dark clays, and yet Prof. Prestwich's 
general idea of tlle relation of the latter to the glacial bed
 be ('o1'r('{'t. 
'Vhat I do wif'h to point out is, that that re]ation is not proved by 
any of the facts known, aud that an elltire]y diftèrent interpretation 



is not only possible, but more probable. That other interpretation I 
have indicated in the general section (Fig. 5), ill ,vhich all tilt.. facts 
observe<l are incorporated. I consider that the dark clay with vege- 
table remains and bones of the large extinct nl3.lUIUals is }Ireglacial, 
in the sense that it i8 older than "any of the glacial beds of the dis- 
trict. The gravel below the "red orick l->arth," in wLich l\lr. Frere 
found tile flint implement
, is probably of the sanlC age, or that of 
the overlying gravel (5 in Figs. 4 and 5). That the iUlplclUents, and 
also fragments of bones and wood, should be occa
iollally fouud in 
the o\'erlying òeposit
, is what lnight be expected, as they were in 
great Inea
ure formed hy the denudation of the older OIleS. 'fhe" red- 
brick earth" (4 in section) is, I believe, a true glacial day, belouging 
to the latter part of the first European lake. It is a noticeable fact 
that, all oyer Northern Europe, the glacial clays burn to a red color- 
:.\, point not without significance with regard to the rea beds of Per- 




- -=. ,1 

:I 0 "I....-.




F:G. 9.-1. Sandy" trail" with flints-three feet. 3. Fnlse-bprlded sand aud 8uban!!111Qr 
fect six inches. 4." Red-brick earth," yellow and ullstratified at. top, grar1
ating dn\\'nward 
into gray, laminated, cakareou
 clay; shells of Bithinia tentac/Jlata alld Limnea fJa'u.
tri8 abnn- 
dant at it". base, where there is about six inches of s:mdy clay-four feet Fix inchp5". 6. ('lay 
similar at top to the 111\Vcr part of the" red-brick earth," but with morc chalk-!!raillfl. gl aduaI- 
ly more chalky downward, and with stones like tbe upper portion of the lower bowlder-clay at 
poiut A iu general section. 

n1Ïan or Triassic age. The false-bedded sands and gravels (3 in Fig
4 and 5) belong, I think, to the Iniddle glacial series, and the- clay (2 
in Figs. 4 antI 5) is, I think, the upper bowltler-clay. These views are 
only thcoretieal, but I claim that they are hased upon äs 
oun<l 3. 
foundation, and are as much in accordance with the facts of the case, 
as those generall y received. 
Another interpretation is tenable, namely, that the lower bowlder- 
. clay underlies the brick-clays, and that the upper howldC'r-ela)T OVf\r" 
lies them, \vhile they themselves helong to a warm interglacial period, 
as held by 
[essrs. Croll and Geikie. I do not agree with thi::-: opinion, 
as I can nowhere find any evidence of a warn1 intt'rglaeiaI period, ana 
am rinw:illing to believe that there "
ere more post tertiary gl:1<'Íal 
period:5 than one, when one will explain an the phenoInpna; hut if it 
were to turn ont that the lower bowlùcr-day òoes exist 1)('J)e:1th tIle 
brick-clays at IIoxne, it would be one of the strongest facts in its 
favor yet Lrought forwarJ. 



I now COllIC to the real point and object of this })apcr. "..,.. e }Jave 
in England, at IIoxne, one of the finest opportunitie
 kuown to exist 
anywhere in Europe of determining the true relation that the Leds 
containing remaius of palæolithic man and the great extinct :\lam- 
Jnalia bear to the Glacial period; yet we have been couteut for nlore 
than a dozen years to allow the age of the beds that underlie these 
depoHits to remain a conjecture, aud to accept a theory ill
d of as- 
certaining what are the true facts of the case. The gpologieal ,,-orld 
has Lecn taught to belie\'e that a question w
s settll'd t}Jat is not 
settled. 'Ye lio know the age of the IIoxne deposits: they may, 
held by Prof. Prestwieh, be post-glacial; or they may, as held by 
srs. Croll and Geikie, be interglacial; or, lastly, they nlay, as I 
bolJ, be preglacial. , 
It is lJut creditable that this uncertainty shoulL1 remain when it 
can easily be cleared up. A few shafts or bore-holes put down would 
soon deterl11Íne whether or not glacial beds underlie the dark clays of 
the briek-pit, or sands and gravel underlie the bo'wlder-clay on the 
other siJe of the hrook. Excavations ::;hould also be made around the 
spot where 
Ir. Frere made his discoveries, to ascertain t}le exact posi- 
tion in wllÍeh the fliut implelnents 'were found so abundantly. I fee} 
satisfied that, if Sir Edward I{crrison, to ,,-horn the propeTty L('longs, 
,,"ere applied to by any of our learned societies, he would wiHingly 
allow the necessary eXéavations to be made. Probably the expendi- 
ture of two hundred pounds would be amply sufficient, and I suhmit 
that it is a work that should be undertaken by the lloyal Society or 
the British .,...\,ssociation, w'ho make grants for scientific inquiry.- 
Quarterly Journal of Science. 

. . . 



A POPlTL,A.R error has long existed as to the real chara('ter of 
short-sightedness; and cyen mediea] men ]Iaye to S0111e extent 
part.ieipated in it. It is not an indication of strl'ngth of vision. It is 
a disease, always inconvenient, and sometimes dal1gerous. Its char- 
I The circumstance that one of the children of the writer is temporarily withùrawn 
from school because of injury to his sip,ht contracted in study, ha
 led him to look into 
this 8uhject, and this paper is the result. The 
tart1inA' extent, the rapid increase, and 
the serious character, of these visual defects in our school
, and the filet that thc greater 
part of them originated there, and might have been prevented, should awakt'n universal 
interest, that the proper remedies may be applied to arrest the moil as speedily and eflcct- 
ual1y as pos')ible. 
The writer having submitted this paper to Dr. David 'Yebster, of this city, takes this 
occasion to. acknowledge, with great pleasure, his obligation to him for important suggcs- 


acter, cause, and progress, have enlisted the earnest attention of th
most eminent oculi:5t:5, eS}Jccially during the last decade. The move- 
nleut received its first ill1pul::;e froln a suggestion of Prof: Donders, 
Juade in 18ß4. It originated, therefore, at the very fountain-head of 
influence and authority in ophthalmology; for Donders was one of 
the three men ,vho led in what is no,v sty led "The Great Reforma- 
tion," wrought some twenty-five years ago, in the treatment of defects 
and diseases of the eye. To illustrate the character of this. change, 
Dr. Agne,v, of N e\V York, in his analysis of 1,065 cases of asthenopia 
(weak sight), thus describes the standard treatment for this disease 
only thirty years ago: ' 
" Blisters, mercury, low diet, tartar-emetic, bloodletting, 3pplications of irri- 
tating alkaloids, such as veratria, to the circum-ocular parts, and setons, were 
freely employed. Sometimes the sufferers were so subdued or silenced by the 
treatment that they ceased to complain of their eyes, preferring to endure the 
ills they had, rather than to endure those which the 3ttempts to relieve thdr as- 
thenopia led them to. So comlllon was this treatment," he continues, "that 
more than one clever irregular practitioner made his fame and fortune in put- 
ting the exhausted subjects of it under hygienic rules, and giving them new life 
and hope by a generous dietary and free out-of-door life; thus showing how 80- 
called quackery is often the natural offspring of our ignorance." 

The suggestion of Prof. Donders is found in his work, " .i-\ccommo- 
dation and Refraction of the Eye," aud is as follows: 
" It would be of great importance to pOSRess accurate statistics of the near- 
sight and far-sight occurring at a given time in a particular category of men, es- 
pecially, for example, nmong the students of a university, in order to be aùle to 
compare them with the results of repeated investigations at subsequent periods. 
If it were thus found-and I can scarcely doubt that it would be so-Uwt near- 
sight is progressive in cultivated society, tbis would be a very serious phenom- 
enon, and we should earnestly think of means of arresting this progression. Not 
only is the near-sighted person not in a condition to discharge all civil duties, 
not only is he limited in the choice of his position in society, but in the higher 
degrees near-sigl1t leads to disturbance of the power of vision, and threatens its 
subject with incurable blindness." 

Ahout two years after this, Dr. Colln, of Breslan, pnh1i
hec1 the 
startling result of his investigations, which had taken the fornl of an 
inquiry into the effects of study on the eyesight. Similar investiga- 
tions followed in various pal.ts of Europe. 
..A likp movemC1ut is progressing in this country, ,vhich ,vas initi- 
ated hy Dr. Cornelius R. Agnc'w, of N e",'" York. U ntler hiR a nspiccs, 
examinations have heen made in N e,v York, Brooklyn, find Cincin- 
nati. Dr. Ea,vard G. Loring-, .J r., and Dr. Peter .A. Callan, of K ew 
York; Dr. Lucien IIowe, of Buffalo; and Dr. Haskct Derùy, of Bos- 
ton, have reported investigations in the same direction. 
In some of these investigations the sUfrgestion of Donders has 
been literally followed; while in most of them the effect of several 

7 6 


successive exan1Ïnations of " a particular category of men" has bec
sought to be reaJized hy one exalnination of several classes of stu- 
dents in the various stages of advancement ill study. 
In the tlârty-thrce schools of Breslau, including its uni,yerRity, 
Dr. Cohn examined 10,060 pupils of all grades, and found that] ,004 
of the ntunuer, distributed alllong all the schools, 'were near-sighted; 
and that only twenty-eight of these had near-':5Ìghted pareuts. Of 
the children who were yet in their first llalf-year of school-life, only 
0.4 per cent. w'ere ne-ar-:sighted. Thence, upward, through 
even bien- 
nial grades, the percentage increased till it reached 63.0 ver cent. of 
those who had been fourteen years at school. The disease was fOl\nd 
:1lso to he progressive in degree. 
Results bearing a striking correspondence with these )lave since 
been reported by various eminent European oculists, cládly the fol- 
lowing: Of 4,358 examinations by Dr. Erismann, of St. Petcr
in 1871; of 1,058 by Dr. l{eusse, of Vienna, in 1872, '73, '75; of 3,036 
by Dr. Conrad, of Iiölligsberg, in 1874-'75; and of 1,846 by Dr. 
Pfiüger, of Lucerne, in 1876. 
The interest excited by these reports was not confined to European 
circle,s. But the conditions of school-life in this country 'were ùelic\'f'd 
to be so much more favorable than in Europe, that thpse deplorable 
statistics, it was thought, could have no parallel here. K evertheless, 
the examinations which have been made, as ,ve shall sho,v, furlli
occasion for the deepest solicitude. 
In N ew York the examinations .were made by Dr. 'V. Cheatham; 
in Brooklyn, hy Drs. Prout and 
Iatthewson; and in Cincinnati, by 
Drs. Ayers and E. 'Vjlliams. They had been furlJished hy Dr. Agnew 
with eIa borate ta1.les or forms, arranged like Cohn's, which they re- 
turned to him filled for snmn1Íng up and compa1'i
on. In this he was 
assisted by Dr. "Vebster. The results are as follows: 
K ew York CoHege, 549 students: introductory class-near-sighted. hYenty- 
nine per cent.; freshman class, forty per cent.; sophomore class, thirty-five 
per cent. ; junior, fifty.three per cent.; senior, thirty-seven per cent. 
Brooklyn Polytechnic, 300 students: Academic Department, ten per cent.; 
co11egiate, twenty-eight per cent. 
Cincinnnti, 630 students: di.strict schools, ten per cent.; intermediate, four- 
teen per cent.; normal high, sixteen per cent. 

This report ",'as read by Dr. "or eb
ter l)efore the Social Seience 
ss at Dptroit in 1875, and again hy Dr. Agnew at the l\ledical 
Congress in Philadelphia, Septenll)cr, 1876. In the report of the ])1'0- 
 of the latter 110dy, for the Record, October 14th, it 
is stated that "the section nnfluimonsly reconlmenned to the Con- 
 that the paper be published, with the statistical tal,les in full." 
K evertheless, the paper has not yet heen 'printed; but some of its 
conclusions nlny be found in the lJ/edical Record, January 20th. 
In }1"ebruary last, Dr. Lucien IIowe ,vas appointed, hy the Duffalo 


l\Ietlical Ässociation, to examine and report upon the effects of study 
upon the eyes of pupils of the public schools of Buffalo. In l\Iarch 
he reporteù that he had exmnilled 1,003 scho)ar
, of whom he found 
twenty per cent. to be near-sighted, and twelve per cent. o\'er sighted; 
that not a single case of near-sight was found among the chi]drcn six 
years old and under; but that at seven years of age fi \"e per cent. 
hart. acquired near-sight; at eleven there were eleven per cent.; at 
thirteen there were nineteen per cent.; and at eighteen twenty-six 
per cent. ....\.mong those who had continued in the scl}ools L
the age of twenty-one years, he fonnd no less than forty-three per 
cent. with nenr-sight. lIe says that Dr. Agnew had sent h1111 blanks 
fot" the nan1e, age, sex, and height; for the exact size of de
ks and 
seats; also, for each room, the color of the walls, uumber of windo,vs, 
anrt. whether to the right, left, front, or rear; the Dlllllber of square 
feet in each window, and the distance of adjoining buildings which 
miJht obstruct the light. Also, for n1ethotl
 of teaching hy large ob- 
jects, the hours of study, nUI?-1her of recesses, methods of heating and 
ventilation, and for the cubic feet of air to each individual. The 
greatest care ,vas exercised to record: 1. The precise condition of 
the pupils' vision, whether healthy or not; and, if abnorn1al, to "'hat 
degree. 2. The usual position of the body when studying. 3. IIIu- 
1uillation of the school-rooln. 4. 'rh
 relaxation given to the eye 
alone, or to the whole body. ó. The general hygienic surroundings 
of the pnpil. 
lIe then describes the process of inrlividnal examination: flalf 3 
doz('n scholars at a tirne were sent into a class-room, on one of the 
,valls of which had been hung a card of letters known to oculists as 
"Snellcn's test-types." The scholars ,vere placed at a distance of 
t\\Tenty feet ft'on1 these letters, and asked to re
ò the lowe
t line, 
tlw letters being -i-inch Gothic. Those 'WIIO can pass tlÛ.ç te.çt are 1l0t 
near-sighted. Then there is 11eId hefore the eye of each a weak con- 
x glass, snch as 01(1 people are accustomed to wear. If he cannot 
see so well a.ç without it, lie is not far-si,r;hted.1 In some cases of un- 
usually imperfect \"ision, the ophthalmoscope was employed. 
Dl1r 1 ng the summer of 1876, Dr. E. G. Loring, Jr., of New York, 
assisted hy Dr. R. H. Derhy, cxamin'ed the sight of 2,000 pnpils of 
the Twelfth Street puhlic school and the norinal school in Sixty-sixth 
Street, N e\v York. Their ages ranged from six to twenty-one years. 
As in the other e'X:aminations cited, myopia was found to affect 
v(>ry small percentage of the pupils in their first year, and to increase 
yeal"ly and largely thereafter, to the close of school-life; and that 
the average de,rlree of ncar-sight increase
 with the age up to twenty- 
sevC'u years. IIi
 report ,va
 ,'ead before the l\Iedical Congress in 
PhiIa,1C'lphia, in S
pte1nher, 187G. 
hJ. the fall of 1875, Dr. Hasket Derhy, of Boston, cornmcnced a 
1 These arc approximate tests. 

7 8 


series of examinations at Amherst Conege, with the purpo
è of noting 
the progress of near-sight in the same class and in the same individu- 
als. The freshman and SOphol11ore classes-I,880 and 1,879-were 
required to report to him; and twenty-seven per cent. of th{' fonner 
and twenty-eight per cent. of the latter were found to be ncar-sighted. 
In the fall of 1876 they were again examined, ,vhen the di
('ase was 
found to have progressed in one-half the nnnlher of those previously 
found to be nlyopic. In January, 1877, he examined the eyes of 122 
volunteers from the freshman class of IIar\
ard ColJege-a little 
more than half the class-of ,vhom 29.5 per cent. were found to be 
near-siglltetl. Of these, twenty-two per cent. had supposed their sight 
to be normal. lIe describes his blank-printed forms as- 
" fined in with the name and age of each indi
idual, the state of earh of his 
eyeð as separately tested by glasses find the opllthalmoscope, the amount of his 
vision, and remarks on his previous history and family peculiarities in this re- 
gard. Blanks are left for a similar examination at the close of the senior year." 

In his report to President Eliot,t he urges the advantages to the 
student of- 

"reliable information at the outset of his collegiate career as to the state of 
his eyes, their availability for study, and the course he must pursue to maintain 
their integrity, or keep existing evils fron1 increasing. At the termination of 
his undergraduate course lIe learns the effect of his four years of study, and is 
thereby enabled to form or modify his future plans." 

IIis report closes with an illustration of the development of Dt'ar- 
sight in a person born free froln it, but inheriting a strong tendency 
to it. During nine years-from the age of ten to nineteen-Hlgges- 
tions severa.l times offered with regard to rest and treatment Jlavil1g 
been unheeded, a progressive change had occurred, ranging fron1 per- 
fect soundness in one eye, and a very slight degree-represented by 
"0.75 "-of near-sight in the other, to a high degree of near-sight, rep- 
resented by "5.50" in each. If advice and warning are still unheed- 
ed, he thinks" an amount of structural change may be brought about 
incompatible with the integrity of tIle eye through lite." 
But while it appears to be conceded that near-Rig-ht is of infre.. 
quent occnrrence among the illiterate classes, the qUE'Rt ion is a very 
natural one, "I-Iaye examinations l)een made, tor comparison, of the 
eyes of any rIasses of young persons other t1)an those engaged in 
study?" Dr. Cohn examined the eyes of many peasant-children, liv- 
ing in a state of comparative simplicity, and having little or no ocea.. 
sion to tax or strain the sight, and found that hardly two in a hundred 
of them ,,"'ere near-sighted. Examinations have been mnde also of 
the Right of young factory-operatives in large manufacturing to"
in Europe, and t he results exhibit a low percentap.-e of myopia, corre.. 
sponding to that of the peasant-children here cited. Dr. Ilo"re says: 
1 Boston J[edical and Surgical Journal, March 22, 1877. 


"Of 213 cases of eye-disease seen during the last year among the paupers of, the recorù shows only three and one-half per cent. to have been near- 
sighteù. " 
Donders remarked this difference betw'een his private patil}nts- 
representing the wea1thy and cultivated class-and his ho
pital pa- 
tients: that while over-sight ,vas distributed between the two classes 
in nearly equal proportion, near-sight occurred much rnore frequently 
:llnong his private patients. 
The investigations of Dr. Peter A. Callan belong in this category, 
\vith a qualification. He examined the sight of 457 colored-school 
pupils, aged from five to nineteen years, of the N e,v York public 
schools, Nos. 3 and 4, and he found but 2.6 per cent. of them near- 
sighted. This field was selected because it ,vas thought to furnish 
the nearest approach to the normal eye to. be fonnd in this locality. 
The Snuthern ii'eedmen, he thinks, would afford the hest possible 
field for this special line of investigation. As a class, the colored 
people of New York, prior to this generation, had very lilnited educa- 
tional advantages, and the occupations which tax the sight, like en- 
graving, etc., have never been known among them. But as these 
457 subJC'cts are now receiving the best school-training that the city 
, the superior condition of their sight must be referred to their 
freedom from hereditary tendency to myopia. The consrientious 
painstaking and thoroughness of Dr. Callan's work, as exhibited in 
his report, are manifest and noteworthy. 
TÜe uniform drift of results in all the examinations herC' referred 
to, and relating to over 26,000 individuals, 111a)" be regarded as suf- 
ficiently establishing the following propositions: 
1. That, as a rule, near-sight originates in school-life. 
2. That a large percentage of the scholars are thus afflicted-the 
percentage progressing with the stage of advancement in study. 
3. That near-sight is progres
ive in degree, according to the length 
of sehool-experience. 
But, though the demonstration of these points is now coulplete, 
fnrther and successive examinations will still he useful to dptennine 
the inlpro"enlent conseqnent upon the adoption of l11c-ans to that end, 
anLl to furnish a standanl of comparison between different school
respect to material or methods, or hot h-that is, first, in re
1)cct to 
arrangmnent of building, 
unount anil direction of light, character and 
position of desks, seats, etc.; and, second, in respect to met hod
teaching, especially in the earlier year
, and generally to the intelli- 
gent observance and enforcement by the teachers of hygienic C'ondi- 
tions. Dr. I-Iowe'
 report is intpresting in this fl'fltnrc, 
that "in 
chools ,vhel'e the h

gienic conditions relating to the posi- 
tion of the pnpiJs and the arrlount of light are disregal'(lcd, thp pro- 
portion of near-sighted pnpils gro\vs larger; and conver
ely, where 
these relations are observeJ, the nunlbcr din1Ïnishes;" and he gi,'es 



nUffiflrical rank" fron1 an ophthalrnic point of view" to the different 
schools exalnillcd hy him. 
IIere arise two questions: 1. Can near-sight be cured? 2. Can it 
be prevented? 
All authorities agree that it is incurable, and all agree that it n1ay 
be prevented. 
IIo\v ? 
"fhe answer to this may be made more satisfactory if first ,,"e 
rapidly sketch a few \vell-kno\vn physiologicnl facts, :-illd get an un- 
derstanding, apl'roxitnately correct at least, of what l1f1ar-sig}lt is, and 
what canse
 it.. Incid
!nta.lly we shall have occasion to notice some 
of the method::; and appliances for detecting both ne
r-sight and over- 
vVhen we see any object c1f1arly, it is be.cause the rays of light rc- 
flected or radiated fl'om it enter the eye and produce a perfect picture 
of the object upon the retina. But the perfeetion of 1 he picture de- 
pends npon the distance, size, and illuminat ion of the object relatively 
to the powers and condition of the eye. The distance detern1Înes the 
angle at \vhich the rays enter the eye. "'T"hatever this angle, the 
rays mu
t converge upon the retina, or the picture ".ill he defective. 
This con vergence it is the office of the lens to effect. Fronl remote 
objects the rays are parallel, or nearly so. These, passing through 
the lens, arc con verged by it upon tbe retina. ....\.s the di:-;tance di- 
minishes, rays PIItering the. eye from any given point of the object be- 
come lllore and lllore divergent. Now, unless there be a correspond- 
ing inf>rease in the convexity ûf the lens, these divergent rays will 
not be fOC:1lizpd at the same point as were the parallel r3Y8; because, 
\vith the san1e power of lens, the focal distance must inerpase ns t
rays cli,yerge; they will not, therefore, have converged when they 
reach the retina. A perfect picture will not be forn1ed, and distinct 
vision will not 'he realized. But a change does take pla('c ill the lens 
corresponding to the change in the angle of the rays which (luter the 
eye. As they c1i verge, its convexity inC'reasps. This i
 effected l)y 
the contraetion of a muscle called, sometilnes, the 'ií1'Uscle of acconnno- 
dation, which encircles the lens. Thus, t he point of convergence is 
maintained upon the retina, in spite of the varyillg angle of the en- 
tering rays. 
The normal location of the retina is that point at which pnrallel 
rays are cOllvergpd, the lens being at rest. But if t})e eyeball )o
its normal SlUIPP, and becomes elongated in the direction of its visual 
axis, the retina is thereby set back beyond the focal point. Conver- 
gence ITIfiY be effected within the normal disbuJCP, lmt never ht:yond 
it; for, while the lpn
 may becolne changed from its pa
t:1te to 
one of greater convexity, it cannot assume a convexity le
s than that 
of its pas
tate. Consequently, when the ey(>ball becomes elon- 
gated fronl {i.ont to back, the convergence win ùe at a point in front 


of, instead of 
lpon, the retina. This is near-sight, as it may be rec- 
ognized 1)y object-tests or trial-glasses. But ncar-sight is s0111et1mes 
simulated. This is caused by a spasmodic action of the muscle of ac- 
commodation. To deterluine absolutely, therefore, whether or not the 
eyeball has taken this abnormal shape, or whether the apparent near- 
sight is due to tlJÎs spasmodic action of the focalizing muscle, the 
oculist nlust paralyze that nluscle. He does this by a simple and, 
in his hands, a harmless application of a ,veak solution of sulphate of 
atropia. 1 Then the object-tests and trial-glasses 'will determine the 
question ,vith certainty. But, if it be in1l)l'acticable to apply the 
atropia, then the ophthalmoscope 2 must be resorted to, as offering 
the nearest approach to certainty of results when the accommodating 
muscle cannot be paralyzed, because its contraction is not very likely 
to occur under th; operation of that instrument. Thus provided, 'the 
oculist proceeds to examine the interior of the eye, and, his own eye 
being normal, and his own accommodation relaxed, if he sees the 
retina of the examined eye perfectly, he pronounces the refraction to 
be correct; or, technicaHy, the eye is emrnetropic. But, if he finds the 
retina is not clearly visible, there being no opacity of tbe refracting 
media, he knows it can only be because the rays reflected from the 
ophthalmoscope have not converged upon it. Assuming it to be a 
case of anterior convergence, he interposes a concave glass, which 
lengthens the focus and removes the point of convergence back upon 
the retina. Thereupon he pronounces the elenear-sighted j or, techni- 
cal1y, myopic, of a degree indicated by the strength of the glass. 
Near-sight, then, is that condition of the eye in which the rays from 
distant objects reach the retina AFTER convergence. 
On the other hand, if, instead of the eyeball becoming elongated, 
it is flattened, then the visual axis is too short; that is, the retina is 
brought too near the lens, ,vhich consequently requires the contntC- 
tion of the accommodating muscle to focalize the parallel rays upon 
the retina; whereas, had the eye been normal, the lens ,vould have 
performed this function while in a state of rest, and would have re- 
quired the contraction only for divergent rays. 
I Though this is frequently done with individual patients,.yet schools have generally 
objected to it. Dr. Cohn enjoyed an exceptional opportunity to examine the eyes of 240 
scholars after the application of sulphate of atropia. Dr. Callan's cölored subjects, he 
relates, refused to permit this application. Therefore, wishing" to place the results of 
his examination beyond dispute" in point of accuracy, he adopted the alternative course, 
and" kept both of his own eyes under the influence of a four-grain solution of sulphate 
of atropia, applied three times daily during a period. of five weeks, so that the accommo- 
dation was completely paralyzed for that length of time." Sometimes the examining 
oculist has acquired the power to perfectly relax his accommodation at will. nut the 
relaxation of the accommodation of tlte subject, as well as that of the examiner, is essen- 
tial to entire accuracy. 
2 A small mirror with a hole in the centre. The mirror is held close to the patient's 
eye, so as to reflect into it the light of a gas-jet back of him. The oculist then places 
his eye close to the hole, and looks into "he illuminated interior of the eyeball. 
VOl.. XII.-G 



This condition is kno'wn as over-sight, 1 technically, lzyperlnetropia. 
When it exists in a degree beyond the adjustability of tbe lell
, it 
lllay be recognized by object-tests and trial-glasses; but in less de- 
grees it may escape detection by these means, because of the accom- 
modating action of the lens. As in the case of near-sight, therefore, 
atropia must be employed for its exact observation. 
Over-sight 'Jnay, then, be defined as that condition of tlle eye in 
pa1.allel rays, passively transnlÌtted by the lens, reach the retina BEFORE 
convergence, because of the shortened axis. 
'Vhile the subjects of this malformation are numerous, some in- 
vestigators finding them even to exceed largely those of the opposite 
 and 'while the eyes so malformed are usually not dis-, as in myopia, yet numerous local 'and general disturbances 
are found to exist in very many of the cases. These are the result 
of over-use, or straining of the muscle of accommodation. A special 
interest has recently been excited in reference to them by an ad- 
dress of Dr. George T. Stevens, of Albany, read last Decenlber be- 
fore the Albany Institute,S in 'which the relation of cause and effect 
is claimed to have been established by the author, between certain 
visual defects, particularly over-sight, and such functional nervous 
affections as neuralgia, tl1e more common forms of headache, epilepsy, 
St. Vitus's dance, hysteria, and insanity. About six months previ- 
ously he bad presented this theory to the New York Acaden1Y of 
l\Iedicine, but he then limited its application to St. Vitus's dance. 
These views were" new and unexpected to the profession," and were 
controverted by Dr. Charles S. Bull, of New York, in a paper read 
before the New York l\Iedical Journal Association, in April Iast. 4 
He reports thirty-one cases of St. Vitus's dance in his own recent 
practice, in which special attention was given to the discovery of any 
such relation as Dr. Stevens affirms to exist. Fifteen of the thirty-one 
had correct and sixteen had defective ,'ision (over-sight). Of the 
latter only five could be induced to purchase and wear the necessary 
correcting glasses. But in thef;e five cases there should have been 
some improvement, at least, in the nervous symptoms consequent 
upon their wearing the glasses; this being, by the admission of Dr. 

1 This is not a disease, like near-sight, but a condition; and it is not acquired, but is 
congenital, always. It is also called far-sight and long-sight J' but it is thus liable to be 
confused with an acquired condition-producing a similar result, as in the sight of old 
people-which is not a flattening of the eyeball itself, nor of the cornea and the lens, but 
it is an impairment of the power of accommodation due to the hardening of the lens, 
which usually occurs at about the age of forty-five years, and is often called old sigM, 
but is technically known as presbyopia. 

 See U A Preliminary Analysis of 1,060 Cases of Asthenopia occurring in the Practice 
of C. R. Agnew, :M. D.," which shows hypermetropia 359 to myopia 121, or nearly three 
to one. 
4 .1..1ledical Record, June 2d. 


Stevens himself, "the crucial test" of the correctness of his theory. 
Yet no such result was observed. Nevertheless, in his later essay, 
he insists that "correction of the eyes of the patients does relieve 
their nervous symptoms. . . . This is no })lace," he says, before the 
Albany Institute, "to relate cures in Inedical practice; but, after a 
sufficiently extended and careful series of observations, continued dllr- 
ing more than four years, I can safely prophesy that this principle 
'v ill be founel of more universal application, and more successful in 
its workings, than any which has been advanced for the mitigation of 
this class of affections." 
The distressing confusion and disappointn1ent resulting from the 
unbalanced action, in the over-sighted eye, between the arrangement 
for adjusting the lens and that for converging the eyeballs, is very 
clearly explained by Dr. Stevens in the same paper. Referring to its 
effect upon school-children he says: 
"How often do we see children of our schools, frequently the brightest and 
most ambitious of their class, struggling with irritable nerves, at a disadvantage 
in their studies, layingthe seeds of future trouble, and often, as the time comes 
for selecting a pursuit in life, forced to abandon a chosen course of studies, be- 
cause the confinement at such work is too great a strain upon them! I look 
forward to the time when these children, who from this single peculiarity are 
placed at so serious a disadvantage in the struggle for life, shall find the relÞcf 
that science is ready to afford them, and which would remove the weight that 
would otherwise prove a serious hinderance in their course." 

Resuming now the consideration of near-sight, we proceed to sug- 
gest some of its principal causes, as follows: 
1. Too early use by school-children of books, slates, and writing- 
paper, or copy-books, when blackboards and models would be better. 
Type and script letters and figures, and their primary combinations, 
at least, should never be taught from books, but from large and per- 
fectly-formed models, printed on cards and hung on the wall. "'Then 
the eye and the memory are sufficiently trained to easily recognize 
and name each letter and figure at sight, and ,vhen some knowledge 
has been gained of the po,ver of letters and figures in conlbination, 
then the saIne fornls in books will be at once familiar as old acquaint- 
ances, and may be studied without straining the sight. To train the 
hand without straining the sigl}t presents a greater practical difficulty. 
In the large schools, of course, all the children cannot go to the black- 
rd. But a considerable practice in drawing large lines and simple 
obje?ts on good-sized slates, in a sort of free-hand style, should pre- 
cede the forrnation of letters and figures; and, when these are begun, 
they should be made of generous size. A correct position, me:unvhile, 
should be an imperative requirement; and, until it becolnes habitual 
and easy, good work should be held to be of secondary importance. 
Hard slate-pencils and greasy slate-surfaces should not be permitted; 
both should be subject to systematic inspection. 



2. Ignorance or laxity on tbe part of parents aud primary teachers, 
in permitting faulty positions of the head, body, and hook, during 
reading, study, and writing; and in not seeking early to secure the 
intelligent coöperation of the pupil by simple and appropriate physi- 
ological instruction. 
3. A prolonged and steady looking at an object or at objects near 
the eye, though at proper distance, without rest or frequent change 
of the visual focus, as in long and absorbed novel-reading, intense 
study, or persistent diligence in needlework. 
4. The practice of reading or other,vise using the sight at too short 
range. This results in part fron1 insufficient light; or from its faulty 
direction, so that the band or body throws a shadow on the page; or so 
that the direct rays fall upon the eye, causing undue contraction of t}le 
pnpil, while the page is in shado.w". It results also from inlproperly 
graded desks, from small and poor type and inferior printing-ink, and 
from faulty color and quality of printing-paper; also from pale '\Trit.. 
ing-ink-pale ,vhen used-and from the substitution of the lead-pencil 
for the pen, especially in the evening. 
5. A prone or forward position of the head too long maintained, or 
frequently repeated, and becoming a habit. This results from reading 
or studying with tIle book in the Jap, and from the use of desks not 
graded to the height of the Inlpil. Dr. IIowe reports pupils varying 
eighteen inches in height seated at tlJe same grade of desks. The 
distance of the eye from the page should not be less than twelve nor 
more than eighteen inches. IIaving tbe desks set too far from the 
seats also induces this faulty position. The front of the desk should 
overlap the seat one or two inches. 
Donders says,! "In the hygiene of Inyopia tIle very first point is 
to guard against ,vorking in a stooping position." He favors high, 
sloping desks, and indicates" rectilinear drawing on a flat surface" 
as a class of work which is especially objectionable. 
6. Since a vitiated atmo
l)here is a frequf'nt feature of the school- 
room, it may not be amiss to add here that the effect of bad air is 
indirectly to injure, if not to destroy, the sight. 
7. Al10wing a sun-glare on the page 1vhile reading; also transi- 
tions from cloud-shadow to sunshine. 
8. Reading and studying in railroad-cars is known to be a fruitful 
source of inj urr. 
9. But insufficient light, perhaps more than any other cause, pro- 
duces disease of the eye and derangement of the vision. This is not 
confined to the schools. Sailly frequent as it is found to be there, it 
is believed to be yet oftener illustrated at home, both by daylight and 
in the evening, in preparation for the school and otherwise. Artificial 
inumination is faulty at best, but, even in the Inost favored homes, the 
elder group is apt to monopolize tbe shaded drop-1igl)t or student- 
1 "Accommodation and Refraction," p. 419. 


lamp, while tbe schoolboy with his text-books is found son1ewhere in 
tbe outer circle. 
Twilight-reading is much practised, and is especially pernicious- 
that is, prolonging the study or reading after daylight has begun to 
decline. The change is so stealthy that, when the interest is excited, 
and the mind absorbed, the growing darkness is unheeded or unob- 
served, till serious mischief is done. 
A curious and interesting case of injury to the sight Ly study is 
that of Prof. John Nott, late of Union Col1ege, Schenectady. Over 
tbirty years ago his sight was permanently destroyed for all literary 
purposes, " by attempting," as he says in a recent letter to the writer 
of this, " too much study ,vithout thought of tbe necessity of care for 
the eyes." How many are following after him! In the same letter 
he thus describes his case as diagnosed by Dr. Alexauder, of London, 
who alone of all whom he conRulted was able to afford him even tem- 
poraryand partial relief: "Thirty-six very small glands in the eyelids 
make oil for the eye, the same as oil for your lamp. 'Vhen these 
glands become dry, reading is impossible, although in other respects 
the eye may be perfect. This was my disease-no oil was supplied to 
the eye." lIe makes or Î111plies this noteworthy suggestion, which is 
hereby commended to authors, publishers, and school-boards: that a 
brief and appropriate cautio'lt be conspicuously printed or jJaste(l in 
the front of every school and college text-book, by authority of COlnn1/ls- 
sioners, superintendent, tl'ustees, or faculty. Something like the fol- 
lowing ,vonIJ perhaps realize his idea: 

CAUTION.-Reader, your eyesight is worth more to you than any 
information yon are likely to gain from this book, however valuable 
that may be. Yon are therefore earnestly cautionei/- 
1. To be sure that you have sufficient light, and that your position 
be such that yon not only avoiJ the direct rays upon your eyes, but 
that you also avoid the angle of reflection. In ,vriting, the light 
should be received over the left shoulder. 
2. That you avoid a stooping position and a forward inclination 
of the head. IIold the bo:)k up. Sit erect also ,vhen you write. 
3. That at brief intervals you rest the eyes l)y looking off and 
away from the book for a few moments. 
And you are furthel. cautioned to avoid as much as possible books 
and papers printed in small type, and e
pecially such as are poorly 
printed; also to avoid straining or overtaxing the sigIlt in any way. 
Boys l11ay need to be reminded of the great importance of thor- 
oughly cleansing the eyes '"'lith soft, pure water both morning and 

To many readers it ,vould no doubt be interesting to consider bow 
each of the practices and conditions ,ve have pointed out as producing 



near-sight tends to effect the elongation of the visual axis. But while 
there might be no disagreement among oculists as to the fact tbat 
the practices and conditions named do thus tend, there may not be a 
consonance so general as to the precise process in every case A fe\v 
general suggestions, however, are submitted: 
1. The rationale of the effect of the premature use of books, etc., 
during the more plastic condition of the eye is sufficiently obvious. 
2. A prolonged tension of the sight lessens the muscular elasticity. 
3. The contraction and consequent thickening of tIle muscles whi
l)ull the two eyes inward, so as to focalize the sight upon a near ob- 
ject, causes a side-pressure, and a corresponding transverse or length.- 
wise protrusion. The nearer tbe object, the stronger must be this 
action of the muscles, and the more marked ..he effect. 
4. The prone position of the head causes the blood to settle in the 
eyebans, increasing the tension of the fluids, exciting inflammation 
and consequent softening of the coatings, and resulting in })ermanent 
The attentive reader cannot have failed to observe that we have 
enumerated causes of injury to the eyes from study, other than those 
,,'hich produce near-sight. Of these, oIlly one seems to require refer- 
ence-the effect of bad air in tbe school-room. 
Dr. Loring read a paper in February last before the 1\ledico-Legal 
Society of K ew York, ans,vering four questions relating to the care 
of the eyesight, which had been subluittec1 to llÍm by that Society. 
The first of the series inquires the effect of bad air on tbe sight. 1 
His reply, given at some length, supports the statement herein made. 
In a recent conversation with the writer, Dr. Loring advocated 
examinations of the sight of all children when they first enter school, 
and at such subsequent stages of their education as might seem de- 
sirable. The position of a child's seat relatively to the blackboard, 
etc., would often be governed by such an examination. J-Ie thought, 
too, that glasses would be recommended in some cases by the examin- 
ing oculist-a })ermanent official he ,vould have him to be-and that, 
if necessary, they should be furnished at the public expense, or out of 
some special fund; the glasses to be worn during school-hours at least, 
if not continuously. He related the circumstance of a lad having 
been recently brought to him by his father from the West. An ex- 
amination verified the boy's statement that he could see to read usu- 
ally very ,veIl; but that sometimes, in a moment, his sight would be so 
affected that reading became impossible. This had led to his repeated 
punishment at school, his averm
nt of inability not being credited by 
his teacher. 

j .][edical Record, April 14th. 




T IlE extinction of many animals that are known to have formerly 
existed on the earth is a subject 'which cannot very easily be ex- 
})lained, while the number of them is greater than at first sight ,vould 
be supposed. Various species no doubt undergo gradual extinction 
by changes which deprive them of their accustomed food; but others 
seem to die out from unknown causes. During the historic period a 
considerable number of animals bave been s,vept off the British Islands, 
among which are the 'bear, the ,,"'olf, tbe Irish elk, etc. In America, 
during the comparatively short period of its history, various species 
have vanished, and others are following them. The beaver, formerly 
so generally spread over the whole of that country, is now only to be 
found in remote regions. The deer and the moose are disappearing 
in the same manner. The bison is very much diminished in numbers, 
and n1ust ere long be extirpated. The mastodon, a creature of enor- 
mous bulk, has totally disappeared, although, along with the skeletons 
of them which have been discovered, there are evidences of their hav- 
ing lived on food derived from plants which are still existing. In 
other parts of the world, tbe dodo and the moa have peris11ed within 
the last few centuries; and the apteryx is undergoing tbè same fate. 
The moa or diuornis was a huge bird, of w hicb the remains are 
plentifully found in New Zealand. 
'Vithin recent historic times, this 
colony ,vas tenanted, to the al- 
most entire exclusion of mam- 
malia, by countless numbers of 
gigantic \vingless birds of various 
genera and species, the .Dinornis 
gigantea, the largest, attaining a 
size nearly thrice that of a ful1- 
gro,vn ostrich. From traditions 
which are current among the l\Ia- 
oris, they 'v ere fat, stupid, indo- 
lent birds, living in forests and 
feeding on vegetables; while the 
name moa seems to ha've been 
given to them from their peculiar 
cry. Since remains have been 
found in great plenty, the investigation of this singular bird is of the 
greatest interest to students of natural history. 
It is to the Rev. Richard Taylor that th
 first discovery of moa 
remains is due, which he thus describes: 
"In the beginning of 1839 I took my first júurney in New Zealand to Poverty 
Bay with the Rev. 'V. ",Yilliams, Bishop of Waiapu. When we reached Waiapu, 


-.....i.,' ",' ''" ' 


.,.. ,





near the East Cape, we took up our abode in a native house, and there I noticed 
the fragment of a large bone stuck in the ceiling. I took it down, supposing at 
first that it was human; but, when I saw its cancellated structure, I handed it 
over to my companion, who had been brought up to the medical profession, ask- 
ing him if he did not think it was a bird's bone. He laughed at the idea, unù 
said, 'What kind of a bird could there be to have so large a bone? ' I pointed 
out it::; structure, and, when the natives came, requested him to ask them what 
it belonged to. They said it was a bone of the tarepo, a very large bird, that lived 
on the top of Hikurangi, the highest mountain on the east coast, 
md tlwt they 
made their largest fish-hooks from its bones. I then inquired whether the bird 
was still to be met with; and was told that there was one of an immense size 
which lived in a cave, and was guarded by a large lizard, and that the bird was 
always standing on one leg. The chief readily gave me tbe bone for a little 
tobacco; and I afterward sent it to Prof. Owen by Sir Everard Home in 1839; 
and I think I may justly claim to have been the fir\t discoverer of the moa." 

l\Ir. Taylor continued his inquiries alllong the natives, .who informed 
l1Ìm that the moa was quite as large as a horse; that these birds had 
nests made of the refuse of fern-root, on which they fed; and that 
they used to conceal themselves in the veronica-thicl{ets, fron1 whit}), 
by setting them on fire, the natives drove them out, and killed them; 
hence originated the 
laori saying, "The yeronica 'was the tree ,,'bith 
roasted the moa." The natives furtl1er nlentionecl that ,vhen a moa- 
hunt was to take place notire was given inviting a]] to the battue. 
The party then spread out to inclose as large a space as l)ossihle, and 
drive the birds from their haunts; then, gradually contracting the 
line as they approached some Jake, they at last rushed forward with 
loud yells, and drove the frightened birds into the water, where they 
could be easily approached in canoes and dispatched without their 
being able to make any resistance. These moa-hunts must thus have 
been very destructiv"e; as, from the number of men employed, and the 
traces of long lines of ovens in which the natives cooked the hirc1s, and 
the large quantity of egg-shells found on the ,vestern shores of K ew 
Zealand, a clear proof is given that these birds were eagerly sought 
for and feasted upon. Thus the poor moas had very little cbance of 
continuing their race. 
From a very interesting communication of the Rev. W. 'Yi
dated l\Iay 17, 1872, it ,voulc1 appear that the moa may not yet be 
entirely extirpated. He remarks: 
" Within the past few days I have obtained a piece of information worthy of 
notice. Happening to t;peak to an American about these bones, he told me that 
the bird is still in existence in the neigl1borhood of Cloudy Bay, in Cook's Strait. 
He said that the natives there had mentioned to an Englishman, belonging to 3 
whaling-party, that there was a bird of extraordinary size to be seen only at 
night on the side of a hill near the place; and that he with a native and a second 
Englishman went to the spot; that after waiting some time they saw the creat- 
ure at a 1ittle distance, which they describe as being about fourteen or sixteen 
feet high. One of the men proposed to go nearer find shoot; but hi



was so exceedingly terrified, or perhaps both of them, that they were satisfied 
with looking at the bird; when after a Jittle time it took the alarm and strode 
off up the side of the mountain." 

In the Greymouth TJTeekly Argus, published in New Zealand in 
1876, there appeared a letter signed R. I{. 1\1. Snlythe, Browning's 
Pass, Otago, describing in a very detailed Inanner the capture of two 
living nloas, a female eight feet high, and a younger one three feet 
shorter. The writer finishes his account of their capture by remark- 
ing that he has little doubt that he will be able to bring them both 
alive to Christchurch. It is therefore to be hoped that living repre- 
sentatives of the genus IJinornis still survive. Feathers of the bird 
have been also found in a state of preservation sufficiently good to 
show that they possessed an after-shaft of a large size; and at the 
same time tradition and the condition in ,vhich the bones are found, 
retaining much of their animal matter, tend to show how lately the 
bird formed part of the existing fauna of the country. If the letter 
be genuine, it cannot be long before ornithologists, of whonl there are 
several of no mean repute in New Zealand, will be able to satisfy 
themselves on the subject. 
An additional reaRon for supposing that these magnificent birds 
existed not long ago is found in the fact that specimens of their eggs 
have been preserved. In the volcanic sand of New Zealaud, :\11'. 
'Valter l\Iantell found a gigantic egg, of the magnitude of which he 
gives us a familiar idea by saying that his hat would have been just 
large enongh to have served as an egg-cup for it. This egg nlust have 
been one of a dinol'nis or a palapteryx, and, although its dimensions 
are considerably greater than the egg of the ostrich, still it is smaller 
than might have been expected from a bird from t\ve1ve to fourteen 
feet high. It is well known that the egg of the New Zealand npteryx, 
to which the moa bears a very close affinity, is one of dimensions that 
are quite surprising in proportion to the bulk of the bird. The apteryx 
is about as big as a turkey, st
nding t\VO feet in height; but its egg 
measures four inches ten lines by three inches tw'o lines in the re- 
spective dialneters. To bear the same ratio to the bird as this, the 
egg of the Dinornis gigantea would be of the incredible length of 
two feet and a half, by a breadth of one and three-quarters! 
In the museum at York there is a complete skeleton of a JllOa, 
which, besides feathers, has the integuments of the feet pnrtIy pre- 
served; from which it is evident that the toes were covcret1 with 
small hexagonal scales. A specimen has also been sent by Dr. Haast, 
of Ne\v Zealand, to Prof. l\lilne-Edwards, which is to be seen in the 

Iuseum of Natural History at Paris.- Ohambers's Journal. 

9 0 




O PALLID spectre of the midnight skies! 
Whose phantom features in the dome of Night 
Elude the keenest gaze of wistful eyes 
Till amplest lenses aid the failing sight, 
On heaven's blue sea the farthest isle of fire, 
From thee, whose glories it would fain admire, 
:Must vision, baffled, in despair retire! 

1rhat art thou, ghostly visitant of flame? 
W ouldst thou 'neath closer scrutiny dissolve 
In myriad suns that constellations frame, 
Round which life-freighted satellites revolve, 
Like those unnumbered orbs which nightly creep 
In dim procession o'er the azure steep, 
As wbite-winged caravans the desert sweep? 

Or art thou still an incandescent n1ass, 
Acquiring form as hostile forces urge, 
Through whose vast length a million lightnings pass 
As to and fro its fiery billows surge- 
Whose glowing atoms, whirled in ceaseless strife 
Where now chaotic anarchy is rife, 
Shall yet become the fair abodes of life? 

We know not; for the faint, exhausted raJs 
Which hitber on Light's wingèd coursers come, 
From fires which nges since first lit their blaze, 
One instant gleam, then perisll, spent and dumb! 
How strange the thought that, whatsoe'er we learn, 
Our tiny globe no answer can return, 
Since with but dull, reflected heams we burn! 

Yet this we know: yon ring of spectral light, . 
Whose distance thril1s the soul with solemn awe, 
Can ne'er escape in its majestic might 
The firm control of omnipresent law. 
This mote descending to its bounden place, 
Those suns whose radiance we can scarcely trace, 
Alike obey the Power per\"ading space 


9 1 


By ])1. MA URIS. 

T IlE publication of an elaborate life of Servetus in EngJish at tbe 
})resent time will be welcome to many readers, 'who at present 
know little more of the man than that he was burned at the stake at 
Geneva, at the instigation of John Calvin, three bundred and tw
five years ago. Tbe progress of tbe world from polytheism to mono- 
theisn1 has bad many tragic passages, but perbaps tbe most unique 
was this roasting alive of the Unitarian Servetus with green ,vood 1;>y 
a leader of the Protestant l
Dr. "Tillis, the author of tbe work, bad edited an edition of the 
writings of 'Villialll Ilarvey, accompanied by a biography of tbe 
great demonstrator of the circulation of the blood. His researches 
into this interesting subject led him to investigate the claims of Ser- 
vetus to a share in tbis grand discovery, when it was established that 
he was "the first ,vho proclaimed the true ,yay in whic}] the blood 
from the right reaches the left chambers of tbe heart by passing 
through the lungs, and even hinted at its further course by the ar- 
teries to the body at large." IIis study of the subject deepened 
the interest of Dr. Willis in the character of Servetus, not only as a 
physiologist, but as a l)hilosopher and scholar; as a practical physi- 
cian, freed from the fetters of mediæval routine; an eminent geogra- 
l)her and astronomer, and a liberal Biblical critic in days when criti- 
cism, as we understand the term, was unimagined. 
Servetus 'VftS a Spaniard, born at Villanueva, in Aragon, in 150[, 
of an old family in independent circumstances. He entered tbe Uni- 
yersity of Saragossa ,,,"hen about fourteen years old, and there per- 
fected himself in the study of the classics, in the Greek and Hebrev..- 
tongues, as 'well as in tbe ethics of Aristotle, scholastic })hilosophy, 
mathCIllatics, astronomy, and geography. From Saragossa he ap- 
pears to have passed to the Iaw-sc1]ool of Toulouse, but theology }}aJ. 
more attractions for him than la"r. A rational exposition of God's 
revelation of himself in Nature seems to have been a craving in the 
ardent and religious temperament of the thoughtful young Spanial'd. 
\Vhile at Toulouse he read the Bible, the writings of Luther, tbe ra- 
tional theology of Rymund de Sabunde, and the works of Erasmus. 
The effect of these studies was that, at eighteen years of age, he had 
already framed a theological systelu of his own, far in advance of the 
ideas of his tÏIne. Leaving Toulouse, Servetus entered the service of 
Juan Quintana, a Franciscan friar, and confessor of the Enlperor 
Charles 'T., "rhose coronation he attended in Aix-Ia-Chapelle, and also 
I "Servetus and Calvin: A Study of an Important Epoch in the Early History of the 
Reformation." By R. 'Villis, M. D. 541 pages. London: Henry S. King &, Co. 

9 2 


the Diet of Augsburg, which closely followed it. Servetus was in 
synlpathy ,vith the Reforluers of the Lutheran Reformation, and, in 
fact, C
Ul1e into conflict \vith theIn, because he did not think they 
,vere sufficiently rational and thorough-going, and what be sa,v of the 
})omp and tyranny of princes and bishops was not calculated to quiet 
the spirit of protest that early took a l)owerful hold upon his mind. 
At the age of twenty he ".rites: "For nlY own 1)art, I neither agree 
nor disagree in every particular ,vith either Catholics or Refonners. 
It ".ould be easy enough, indeed, to judge dif:paf:sionately of every- 
thing, were we but suffered ,vithout Inolestation 1)y the churches 
freely to speak our minds; the older exponents of doctrine, in obedi- 
ence to the recomnlendation of St. Paul, giving place to younger 
men, and these, in their turn, making ,vay for teachers of the day, 
w'ho hall aught to Ì1npart that has been revealed to theln. But our 
aoctors now contend f'Or nothing but power. The Lord confound all 
tyrants of the Church! AnIen." 
'Ylth such yie,vs, and a constitutional temperament that knew no 
fear, and leel him to the free expression of his opinions, he was, of 
course, soon disInissed from the service of Quintana. lIe then threw' 
l1Ìmsclf, body and soul, into the study of theology, and in 1530 ".e 
finel him at Basle, S,vitzerland, disputing \vith <Ecolanlpadius and 
other theoJogians on the consubstantia1ity and coeternity of tbe Son 
with the Father, and other points in connection with the idea of the 
Trinity then prevailing anlong Catholics as wen as Refornlers. Being 
unable to nlake his views acceptable to the Reformer ûf BasIe, he 
vroceeded to Strasburg to propound llÍs docrines to J\Iartin Bucer and 
"T. F. Capito, but ,,
ith no better results. !leanwhile, he had not 
been otherwise idle; he had written a lJook in ".hich his ne,vopinions 
concerning Christianity ,yere fuBy explained, and he resolveà upon 
baying it l)rinted, to nlake the world judge between him and the 
other Reformers. lie ,vas in GerInany, tIle land of free tllOught, as 
he imagined, and anlong men who had thought freely: why should 
he not avail himself of the same right? The name:; of Luther, Calvin, 
etc., appeared on the title-pages of their ,vorks: WIlY should his name 
ùe withheld from the ,vorld? Accordingly, the "Seven Books on 

listaken Conceptions of the Trinity" appeared with the author's 
full faIT!ily natHe, and the name of the country that called him son. 
As he appears in this book, Servetus Dlay be considered as the 
founder of the doctrine of real nlonotheism, as it was possible to con- 
ceive it in the sixteenth centnry. We are sorry to he una"Lle to give 
more than a passing notice of the chief points discussed in this work. 
lie believed in a kind of Trinity, but modal and formal, not real and 
personal in the usual sense of the ".ord. " God cannot be cOlweived 
as divisib]e," be says; he acknowledges a Son of God and a Holy 
Ghost, finding them in the Scriptures, no "Tord of which he ,vollld 
overlook, though putting his o,,'n interpretation on all they say. 



"The word Trinity," he writes," is not to be found in Scriptures. 
The Son and the Iioly Ghost are no more than so Inany fornls or 
aspects of Deity. . . . To believe," he continues, "suffices, it is said 
(to salvation) ; but what folly to believe aught that cannot be under- 
stood, that is impossible in the nature of things, and that may even 
be looked on as blasphemous! Can it be that mere confusion of 
mind is to be deemed an adequate object of faith? " Speaking of the 
Holy Ghost, Servetus forgot "\vhat is due to a subject that has en- 
gaged the serious thoughts of so many pious and learned men. lie 
saw some portions of the Catholic Christian dogma 80 unreasonable 
as to be unable to refrain froin ridiculing the1n. Yet the idea of God 
to which Servetus had attained is unquestionably pure and grand-:- 
the only one, in fact, as we see the subject, that can be reasonably 
held by a true idealist. He also deals heavy blows at the doctrine of 
justification by faith, the leading feature of Luther's theology, in 
. terms neither complimentary nor respectful to its author; nor less 
roughly dealt with is the leading Calvinistic theory of predestination 
and election. 
The book seems to have caused a considerable stir both in Ger- 
many and Switzerland, to have found proselytes in Italy, and to have 
been read by everyone of liberal education. Some of the antagonistic 
Reformers themselves could not forbear being strongly impressed ,vith 
it. <Ecolampadius, writing to 1\iartin Bucer, July 18, 15
1, says: 
" Read the book, and tell me what you think of it; as the writer does 
not acknowledge the coeternity of tbe Son, I can in no wise approve 
of it as a whole, although it contains much that is good." l\IeJanch- 
thon writes to a friend, "I read Servetus a great deal." He does 
not agree with the author, but" I have little doubt," he continues, 
" that great controversies will one day arise on this subject as well as 
on the distinction of tIle t\\'"o natures in Christ." 
"The Reformers of tbe sixteenth century," Dr. Willis says, "went 
. little way in freeing the religion of Jesus of Nazareth from the accre- 
tions which metaphysical subtilty, superstition, and ignorance of the 
laws of N atnr(l, had gathered around it in the coursp of ages. Their 
business, as they apprehended it, ,vas to reform the Church-the ta
Servetus had set himself, in the end, 'was to reform religion, ,vith little 
thought of a church, in any sense as it was conceived in his day either 
by papists or Protestants." IIow could a l)ook in this direction he 
"\velcome to the Reformers? It was too far in ad vance of their ideas; 
Servetus's c1ial{!ctics 'were too stringent, and his argull1ents too concln- 

iYe against them. 
After ,vriting a splendid letter to (E('olampadius, for which woe 
regret to have no room, he quitted Switzerland, "whither he had re- 
turned after the publication of his book at IIagenau; and herp he 
seenlS to have again taken up his quarters for some weeks or nlonths, 
to write and superintend the printing of the" Two Dialogues on tIle 


Trinity." "C"nder color of modifying sonle of the views enunciated in 
, his first work, he now cast the concluding anathema against all tyrants 
of the Church, as a parting shot, and off he "
ent to France, reaching 
Paris toward the end of 1532. 
If Switzerland and Gennany " \vere too bot for him," Ronlan Cath- 
olic France woule1 have proved still hotter; but during the time he 
lived in that country he never made himself known save as " l\Ionsieur 
1\Iichel Villeneuve," from the town of his nativity. He entered as a 
student of ]uathelnatics and l)hysics at one of the colleges of Paris, 
and lived very quietly. At a later period be took his degree of 1\1. A. 
in the University of Paris. 
But the study of mathematics bad soon to be abandoned for present 
means of subsistence. After a short sta
 at Avignon ahd Orleans, 
Villeneuve betook himself to Lyons, then a great centre of iearning. 
There he seems to have found ready employment as reader and cor- 
rector of tbe })ress, first, and after,vard as editor in the celebrated 
printing-establishment of Trechsel Brothers. Among tbe works he 
edited for them, the" Geography of Ptolelny," enriched by extensive 
con1ments from bhn, can by no means be overlooked, connected as it is 
with the charges imputed to its editor, later on, in his trial at Geneva. 
The reading-roolll of the printers of Lyons, and the acquaintance 
Servetus formed there wit1} the great physician and naturalist, Dr. 
Champier, brought the former back from the empyrean of metaphysics 
to the earth, and put him in the way of becoming the geographer, 
astrologian, Biblical critic, physiologist., and l)hysician, "yith whom 
we are made familiar in his subsequent life ðnd 'writings. With the- 
money he hae1 saved in the two years spent with Trechsel, he went 
back to Paris (1536), and gave himself to the study of medicine. lIe 
becanle at once associated with scientists as distinguished as Andreas 
Vesalius, the creator of modern anatomy, and Joannes Guinterus; 
and in a singularly short time he obtained the degree of 1,1. D. 'Vith 
the stimulus of necessity upon him, for he 'was })oor, and the excite- 
ment of ambition, with 'which he was largely endow'eel, as ]Je found it 
hard to earn a liying by his profession, Servetus appeared before the 
,vorld as lecturer on geography and astrology-which then eluhraced 
the true doctrine of the heavenly bodies, as well aR the false one of 
their influence on the life of man; and in this capacity he achieved an 
cnornlons success. Next he came for'ward in connection with his pro- 
fession by writing a book on "1\Ieclicinal Sirups and their Use," thus 
"-Tinning fame also as a physician. A fiery struggle was going on 
during the early part of the sixteenth century bet ween the A verrho- 
ists and the Galenists. Like his initiator into medical matters, Dr. 
Chalnpier, Servetus was himself a Galenist; but in this character, too, 
he showed the independence of his nature, by having open eyes for :lIlY 
truth w'hich the Arabian writers and their followers might present. 
Servetus's fate on starting in Hfe "'as opposition. Through supe- 



rior endowment and culture, he found himself antagonistic to almost 
all around hirn; his convictions were deep, and the haughtiness and 
violence of his dispositi.on made it impossible to suppress them. The 
physician, therefore, met the fate of the theologian. It seems tbat 11e 
had gone out of the way, in bis lectures, to accuse his fellows of 
ignorance, at least, of astronomy. The doctors of tbe faculty retali- 
ated by denouncing him from their c}1airs as an impostor and a wind- 
bag. Ser\
etus then .wrote a pamphlet, in which he laid bare tl1e sore 
places in the characters of his adversaries, even holding them up, in 
their ignorance, as the pests of society. IIis intentions being made 
known, the Senate of the University and the Parliament of Paris were 
petitioned to forbid the publication of tbe pamphlet; but Servetus 
outwitted theIn-before the day of citation came, the dreaded pam- 
phlet was distributed to the public. The faculty of medicine bad him 
summoned before the inquisitor of the king as an enemy of the Church, 
on the score of heresy, implied in the practice of judicial astrology. 
So thoroughly, however, did he satisfy the inquisitor that he was a 
good Christian, that he left the court with flying colors, absolved 
even of all suspicion of heresy. The doctors, however, in the end, 
,von the day. The award of the Parliament ordered 
1ichael Villano- 
vanus to call in bis pamphlet and deposit the copies in the court; to 
pay all honor to the faculty and its lnembers; and he was expressly 
forbidden to appear in public or in any other way as a professor of 
Villeneuve now moved to Charlieu, near Lyons, 'where he resumed 
the practice of medicine. While at Charlieu (1539), having attained 
his thirtieth year, according to the religious tenets he professed, he 
had hin1self baptized. 
Pierre Paumier, one of his Paris admirers and frienils, and now 
Archbishop of Vienne, hearing of his whereabouts, invited bim to quit 
the narro,v field of his practice for a wider one. Villeneuve accepted, 
and for the next twelve years he lived in Vienne, under tbe inllnediate 
patronage of the eminent prelate. 
Besides practising n1edicine, he resumed hiR connection with the 
publishers of Lyons, and among other works edited the Latin Bible 
. for Trechsel, with comments of his o'wn. From his lono- studies in 

the Scriptures he had come to the conclusion that, 'while the usual 
prophetical bearing ascribed to the Old Testament was ever to he kept 
in view, the text had a primary, literal, and ilnmediate reference to 
the age in which it was composed and to personages, events, and cir- 
cumstances, amon g ,vhich the writers lived. and accorc1ino- to this 
" b 
plan, he carried out the work. Yet Spinoza, Astruc, and others, who 
lived a century later, are caned the founders of the modern school of 
Biblical exegesis, and Servetus is not even nan1ed as a Biblical critic 
and expositor! 
'Ve have no,v arrived at a momentous eyent in the life of Scrvetus 

9 6 


-biA theological correspondence with John Calvin. It seems to have 
been entercd upon at the suggestion of John Frelon, one of the Lyons 
Servetus has been accused of having provoked the Genevese Re- 
former by addressing him in a style calculated to wound, if not to 
ult, hÍ1n; and the character of the man gives likclihood to the 
charge. But, had Calvin's letters been preserved, 'we doubt whether 
the accusation ,vould hold good; we know for a certainty that the 
great Reformer applied very freely the lowest epithets to l)is oppo- 
nents-" rascal, dog, ass, and swine, being found of constant occur, 
rence an10ng them-had there been any stronger tban scoundrel atld 
blasphcmer, they would have been hurled at Servetus." Calvin's own 
letter to Frelon, their go-between, throws a 
reat light on the subject. 
Among other things, 11e ,vrites: "I l)ave been led to ,,"'rite to him 
more sharply than is n1Y wont, being minded to take him down a lit- 
tle in his presumption; and, I assure you, there is no lesson he needs 
so much to learn as humility." At any rate, Villeneuve approached 
the Reformer, at first, as one seeking aid and information from another 
presumed most capable of giving both. Calvin replied in a concise, 
dogmatic "
ay ,vhich, indeed, could not satisfy a mind as thoroughly 
made up as that of Servetus. 1\Ioreover, the Reformer soon grew 
weary of the correspondence, so that Frelon had to interpose in be- 
half of the Spaniard in order to make the former answer his letters. 
Nor is this all: thinking he might escape further molestation, Calvin 
referred Servetus to his book, "Institutions of the Christian Religion," 
as though he had been a schoolboy who bad entered upon a discussion 
with the Reforn1er, witb no knowledge of his doctrines. Villeneuve 
now became his critic. The copy of tbe "Institutions " "
as sent back, 
copiously annotated in the margin. There was hardly a proposition 
in the text that ,vas not taken to pieces by him and found untenable 
on the ground of Scriptures and patristic authority, and this lIe did 
with the freedom of expression in which Villeneuve indulged. Calvin, 
in "Triting to a friend, indignantly says, "There is }Iardly a page that 
is not defiled hy his vomit." " The liberties taken with the' Institu- 
tions,' "Dr. 'Yillis says, H were looked on as a crowning personal 
insult by Calvin; and reading, as we do, the nature of th
 man, it is 
not difficult to conclude tbat it ,vas this offense, superadded to the 
letters, "Thich put such rancor into his soul as made him think of the 
life of his critic as no more than a fair forfeit for the offense done." 
As a n1atter of course, the correspondence w'as soon dropped by Calvin, 
but not so by Servetus, 'who seemingly could not bear Lis opponent's 
neglect; over thirty letters of llis, embracing a period of nlore than 
two years, are still extant. 
Servetns meanwhile had prepared another book, "Christianisn1i 
Restitutio" (The Restoration of Christianity) 1 with which llc intended 
1 The" Cluistianismi Restitutio" of Senetus is Olle of the rarest books in tbe world 



to bring religion back to ll10re winning sin1plicity and purity. IIa\"- 
ing made a I\lS. copy of it, he sent it to Calvin, requesting an opinion 
on its merits. It was on its reception that, writing to his frienl1 Far
Calvin made use of the following language: "Servetus wrote to me 
lately, and besides his letter sent me a great volunle full of his ravings, 
telling nle with audacious arrogance that I should there find things 
stupendous and unheard of until now. He offers to come hither if I 
approve; but I will not pledge my faith to him: for, did he come, if I 
have any authority here, I should never suffer ld1n to [/0 away alive." 
'\Ve see already by ,vhat feeling Cal viu was anin1ated: he hates the 
man \vho did not acknowledge bis superiority, as he .was accustonlCd to 
see others do, and ,vho dared to criticise his opinions. Not ou]y did 
he not even condescend to offer any strictures upon Servetus's \vork, 
but he never sent back the }IS., although repeatedly asked for it. 
Servetus, who had kept another copy for himself
 determined to 
bave the book printed anonymously. Arrangements were made .with 
Balthasar Arnoullet, printer at Vienne, and, as secrecy was of capi- 
tal importance, a small house away from the known printing-establish- 
ment was taken; type, cases, and a press, were there set up, and in a 
period of between three and four months an edition of 1,000 copies 
,vas successfully \vorked off. The whole impression was then Inade 
up into bales of 100 copies each, and confided to friends at Lyons, 
Frankfort, etc., for safe-ke
ping, until the moment of putting them in 
tbe market aùroad })ad come. 
The book on " The Restoration of Christianity" comprises a series 
of discp1Ïsitions on the speculative and practical principles of Chris- 
tianity as apprehended by the author; thirty of the letters he had 
.written to Calvin; and other writings of minor importance. It is in 
this book that Servetus show.s himself the most far-sighted physiologist 
of his age, by anticipating the discovery of the circulation of the hlood. 
Through Frelon a copy of the book," hot from the prcs
," 'WflS 
especially addressed to "JUonsieur Johann Calvin, minister of Geneva." 
'Ve leave for the reader to imagine what additional anger n1ust no,," 
have entered the Reformer's heart, when, besides the offensive and, as 
he regarded it, heretical matter of the book, he found the letters 
,vritten to him made public, himse]f publicly scl100lcd, his most 
cherished doctrines proclaimed derogatory to God, and SOIHe of them 
as barring the gates of heaven! 'Vhat the reader, perhapf:, could not 
inlagine is, that the" high-minded" man who had emphatically de- 
nounced the" rigl)t of the sword" in dealing with heresy, ,vas now 
ready to hecolne instrumental in having it applied to Ser\Tctus. lIe 
became tIle denunciator of Servetus to tIle Catholic authoriticf: of 
Vienne; he betrayed friendship and trust by furnishing then1 with 

Of the thousand copie
 printed, two only are no\y known to survive: one amon
 the treas- 
ures of the National Library of Paris, the other among these of the Imperial Library 
of Vienna. 

VOL. XII.-7 

9 8 


the docun1ents (letters and leaves irom the printed book as well as 
lS. copy which lIe had kept) that ,,
ou1a bring about his canvic- 
tion, and consequently bis death. And this ,vas not dOJJe openly. 
Cah'in sent the ,vanted inforn1ation through a convert to tl]e R
a young man by the name of 'Villiam 
'rie. Did not the style of 
Trie's letters and the documents show })lain1y the part played by tbe 
Reformer in the treason, he might be easi1y absolved from the ('harge 
-so cautiously had he worked to keep his treachery a mystery. 
vetns was arr
sted and tried; he only avoided being burned a1ive by 
making good his escape from prison (April 17, 1553), in which he 
seems to have been aided by some devoted friend. An the books, 
however, that could be found, ,vere seized and Lurned, together ,,'irh 
his effigy. 
caped from the })rison of 'V'lonne, afler ramùling some ,,'eeks 
through Southern France, he fled to Geneva. His cl]oice of this place 
can hardly be accounted for. Perhaps, though he knew that Calvin 
had been his denunciator, it never entered his 111ind that the Reformer 
'would now take the knife in hand birnsclf. In the ear1y 1l10rning of 
some clay after the n1Íddle of July, he entered Geneya and put up at a 
smaH hostelry on the banks of the lake, where he seel1JS to haye lived 
very privately for nearly a month. On Sunday, .A.ugnst 13th, he vent- 
ured imprudently to show himself at the evening service of a neigh- 
boring churclJ. Being recognized, Calyin 'was informed of his pres- 
ence, and 'without a moment's delay he again denounced hilll, and 
demanded his arrest. Servetus ,,
as at once thrown into the comn1on 
jail of the town. 
According to the laws of Geneva, grounds for an arrest on a crim- 
inal charge ",'ere to be delivered within t"Tenty-four hours thereafter. 
Calvin worked all night, and thirty-eight articles dra,,
n fronl the 
mi Restitutio" were in due time presented in support of 
the charge. Another law prescribed that criluinal ('barges should be 
lnac1e by some one who avo,ved himself aggrieved, and was contented 
to go to prison ,vith the party he accused, the law of retaliation dis- 
l)osing of him in case his charges ,,,,ere not nlade good; and Cah'in 
complied with this law, too, hy n1eans of a substitute. IIis cook, 

icolas La Fontaine, was the man ,vho now came forth as" person- 
any aggrieve<1 by," and prosecutor of, 
Iichael Servetus! 
The main charges against the Spaniard were: his haying troubled 
the churches of Germany, about twenty-four years previously, with his 
beresies and with an execrably heretical book, by ,vhich he had in- 
fected many; having continued to spread poison abroad with his 
"Comments to the Bible," the" Geography of Ptolemy," anr1lately 
with his" Restoration of Christianity;" having blasphemed against 
the Trinity, the Sonship of Christ, his consubstantiality ,,'ith the 
Father, and proclaime(l infant baptisnl a diaholic invention; 113.ving 
escapet1 from the prison of VÏenne; and, finally, " of having in his 



printed books maùe use of scurrilous anù blCl8plterJtou8 terms of re- 
proach in speaking of )lonsieur John Calvin and his doctrines." 
Servetus's reply in his preliminary interrogatory ,vas: that he ,vas 
not conscious of having caused tiny trouble to the churches of Ger- 
many, and defied anyone to prove it; that he was unaware that the 
book he owncd to have had printed at Hagenau had produced any 
evil; t1]at it ,vas true he had con1mcnted on the aLoyc-nlentioned 
books, but he had said nothing in them that ,vas not the truth; 
and in the book lately printcd he did not believe that he blas}Jheined, 
Lut if it werc shown that he had said anything amiss, he ,vas really 
to amend it; that in the book be wrote on the Trinity he had fol- 
lowed the teaching of the doctors who lived immediately after Christ 
and the apo
tles; that previous to the Council of Nicæa no doctor of 
the Church had used the ,yord Trinity j that his strong language 
against tþe Trinity, as apprehended by the modern doctors, ,vas sug- 
gested by the belief that the unity of God was by them denied or an- 
nulled; that as regards infant baptism it was his belief that none 
should be baptized ,vho bad not attained the ycars of discretion; but 
he added, as ever, that if he were shown to be mistaken, he was ready 
to subn1Ït to correction; that Calvin had no right to cOlnplain of the 
respondent's abusive language, as he had been hhllself publicly abused 
by Calyin: he had but retaliated, and shown him froln his writings 
that he was mistaken in many things. 
On August 15th the council was formally installed as a court of 
crin1Ínal judicature, and the trial c0111menced; the answers of the 
prisoner to the articles being generally in the terms of his previous 
exan1Ïnation. The court closed the meeting ,vith making good a 
petition of Nicolas La Fontaine to be dischargcd from prison, Servetus 
hilnself having given sufficient pri}}
a-facie evidence of }]is guilt. Bail 
, howevcr, required; and this was imlnediately forthcon1Ïng in the 
person of l\Ionsieur Antoine Calvin, brother of the Reformer. The 
chef de cuisine was discharged, ,vhile Servetus 'was renlanc1ed to jail. 
About this time, in a letter to his bosom friend Fare1, after relating 
the events of Servetus's arrest and of t.he proceedings against him, 
Calvin wTote, " I hope the sentcnce ,viII be capital at least." 
It would be 1110st interesting t3 follow this unprecedented sllanl- 
trial in all its details, as Dr. 'ViIIis has done; hut want of space lin1Íts 
us to mere outlines of it. The party of free thought, or LibertincE:, 
showing sympathy for the prisoner, tIle trial assurnec1 the character of 
a struggle bet\veen the two factions in Geneva. It ,vas nece
sary for 
Calvin to nip in the bud the ne,v growth of rebellion against his 
authority; and, throwing aside disguise, he now canle forward as 
prosecutor of Servetus. The Spaniard's opinions differed so ohviously 
froIn all they had ever been led to believe, that it was easy for Calvin 
to satisfy the nlajority of the judges of Servetus's culpability on theo- 
logical ground
. It sceIns, however, tba,t a feeling in favor of the 


prisoner prevailed in the court; the Swiss churches, which on a sin1Í- 
lar occasion had deciùed against Calvin, ,,
ere appealed to for advice, 
and the proceedings were postponed. It is pitiful to see how Calvin 
had set his heart on the condenluation of Servetus. lIe interfered ,vith 
the conrRe of justice by threatening the "reakest among the judges, 
by stirring the feelings of his party in the council; he denounced alJd 
vilified his opponent fron1 the pulpit in no measured terms, exposing 
his opinions in their nlost glaring and repulsive aspects; ]1C tanlperecl 
,vith the ministers of the Swiss churches; he formulated ne,y and more 
elaborate articles of accusation, and to these, besides his o,vn,lulel the 
signatures of thirteen of his fellow-ministers :1.ppended-in one word, 
he left no stone unturnec1 to wreak his revenge. lIe ,,-anted Servetus's. 
death! The arguments and authorities piled against him by Calvin 
,vere so nlany, and the proceedings became sJ intricate, that 
,,-as forced to request that he might be furnisbed with books, and have 
pen, ink, éJ.nd paper, supplied, in ,vhich to epitomize his defense. The 
jailer was directed to give hinl the books he "ranted, and a single sheet 
of paper! 
On this "famous" sheet, Seryetus, after den10nstrating that civil 
tribunals are incompetent to decide on questions bearing on reHgion 
only, and that heretics "
ere either to be brought to reaEon 1y argu- 
ment, or punished by banishment, and not by })rison, concludes: 
"Secondly, my lords, I entreat you to consider that I }Jave committed no 
offense within your territory; neither, indeed, haTe I been guilty of any ebe- 
where: I have never been seditious, and am no disturber of the peace. During 
all the time I passed in Germany, I never spoke on such subjects" (his theological 
views), "save with <Ecolampadius, Bucer, and Capito; neither in France did I 
ever enter on tlwm with anyone. I have always disavowed the opinions of 
the Anabaptists, seùitious against the magistrate, and preacbing community of 
goods. 'Yherefore, as I have l)een guilty of no sort of sedition, but have only 
brought up for ùiscus8ion certain ancient doctrines of the Church, I think Iougbt 
not to be detained a prisoner, and made the subject of a criminal prosecution. 
"In conclusion, my lords, inasmuch ns I nm a stranger, ignorant of the cus- 
toms of this country, not knowing either hoW" to spenk or to comport nJyself in 
the circumstances under which I nm placed, I humbly beseech you to nssign me 
an advocate to speak for me in my defense." 
If a shado.w of justice Ilad ruled tIle trial, this petition ,yould have 
met 'with success; but the court took no notice of it. "Skilled in lying 
as he is," said the attorney-gen(lral, CalvÏ1i's too], "there is no reason 
why he should now. demand an advocate." 
.A.fter the sitting of September 1st, in compliance "rith a wish pre. 
viously expressetl by the court, Cah"in, surrounded by a staff of min- 
isters, proceeded to the jail to visit the prisoner. Calvin having then 
opened upon ]Jim with a bigoted lecture, the consequences are easily 
Imagined: tIle interyiew ended as it could only enc1-1vith increased 
irritation on both sides. Fron1 1 his time (and we cannot but excuse 
the nlan), Servetus becan1e 11101'e intenlperate and aggre

iYe on Cal- 



vin; not only int1isposed to yiehl one jot or tittle, ln1t negligent also 
of opportunities to dcfen<l his conclusions. Perhaps he knew. it .was 
useless to argue, for, as a Spanish proverb says, "
o man is so deaf 
as he ,vho will not hear." Perhaps Perrin and Berthelier, the leaders 
of the Libertines, too, had fed his l)l'ain .with false hopes and pron1Íses. 
The trial was now interrupted through differences between Calvin 
and the city fathers about municipal affairs. On September 15th 
Servetus wrote to the council a letter, from which we quote the first 
ry )IOST HO:YORED LORDS: I humbly entreat of you to put an end to these 
great deInys, or to exonerate nle of the criminal charge. You must see that 
Calvin is at his wit's end, and knows not what more to say, but for his pleasure 
would have llle rot here in prison. The lice eat llle up alive; my breeches arc 
in rags, find I hfiye llO change-no doublet, and but a single shirt in tatters. I 
have also demanded to have a counsel assigned me. This would have been granteù 
me in lllY native country; and here I am a stranger, and ignorant of the laws 
and customs of the land. Yet you have given counsel to my accuser, l refusing 
it to me." 

On the 22d of September, perhaps instigated by Berthelier, Serve- 
tus took a hold step: he accused Calvin as his calumniator, and asked 
hÍln to be declared subject to the ,law of retaliation; lHlt the council 
took no nlore notice of this than thry had of the previous petition. The 
appeal to the churches of S.witzerlancl caused another pause in the 
proceedings, ana 
Iichael Servetus, October 10th, forwarded tlle fol- 
lowing letter to the council : 
IoST NOBLE LOHDS: It is now about three weeks since I petitioned for an 
audience, and still I have no reply. I entreat you for the love of Jesus Christ 
not to refuse me that you w"ould grant to a Turk, when I ask for justice at Jour 
hands. As to what you may have comnlanded to be done for nle in the way of 
cleanliness, I have to infornl you that nothing has been done, and that I am in 
a nlore filthy plight than ever. In addition, I suffer terribly from the colù, and 
from colic, and my rupture, which causes llle lniseries of other kinds, I should 
feel shame in writing about more particularly. It is very cruel that I am 
neither allowed to speak nor to have my most pressing wants supplied; for the 
love of God, sirs, in pity or in duty, gi \
e orders in my behalf! " 
This appeal of the prisoner, as far as his needs "'ere concerned, 
nlet ,vith an immediate response; but the auc1ience .was never granted. 
The answers of the S,viss churches arrived at last, and as Calvin haa 
been their inspirer, anc1 they hac1 been taken in concert, they unani- 
mously condemned Servetus's theological views. On the 26th of Oc- 
toùer the council solen1nly asselnbled and condemnetl Ser,'etus t() be 
burned alive with his books; the sentence to be carried into effect on 
the n10rrow! In a letter to Farel, alluding to the vain attenlpts Inade 
by Perrin, the first syndic, by delay ana cntreaty, to save the lU'is- 
oner's life, Calvin speaks of the merciful man l)y the nickllanle under 
1 Germain Col1arlon was introduced as counsel for Xicolas La Fontaine, and continued 
all through the tria} as Calvin's champion. 


'which he was wont to characterize his great Lil)ertine opponent, and 


" Our comical Cmsar (Perrin), having feigned illness for three days, mounted 
the tribune at length, with a view to aid the 'wicked scoundrel' to escape pun- 
ishment. Nor did he blush to demand that the cause might be remitted to the 
Council of the Two Hundred. But in vain; all was refused, the prisoner was 
condemned, and to-morrow he will suffer death." 

The sentence was in1parted to Servctus in the early morniug of 
the follo,ving day-his last. Encouraged l)y thc I..IibertÏIles, and 
know"ing hilnself guilty of no intentional blasphemy, he had neyer 
thought it possible that he would be condemned to death. lIe was 
at first as if struck dumb l
y the intelligence, He did but groan and 
sigh, as though his heart would burst, and cry, in 11Ís native language, 
" l\lisericordia !" II
n"ing by degrees recoyered self-possession, he 
requested to see Calvin. Accompanied by two councilors, Calvin 
entered the prison and asked what he wanted of hiln. Scrvetus had 
the heroic virtu
 to ask pardon of him-the Ilian ,vho had brongl1t 
hiln to his death! liard to say: the intolerant despot of Geneya, 
devoid of all humanity, J)ap not a word of mercy for his victim, ,vhen 
a word of his would have saved hinl ! 
An"hour before noon of Octoùer 27, 1553, Servetus was taken from 
his jail to receive his scntence fronl my lords the councilors and 
justices of Geneva. The tribunal, in conformity with custom, aSS<:'ffi- 
bled before the porch of the Hôtel-de-Ville, and receivec1 the prisoner, 
all standing. The proper officer then proceeded to recapitulate the 
heads of the process against him, "l\[ichael Servetus, of Vi]]anova, in 
the kingdom of Aragon, in Spain," in which be is charged- 
"First, with having, between twenty-three and twenty-four years ago, caused 
to be printed at Hagenau, in Germany, a book figainst the Holy Trinity, full of 
blasphemies, to the great scandal of the churches of Germany, the book having 
been condemned by all their doctors, and he, the writer, forced to fly that coun- 
try. Item. 'Vith haying, in spite of this, not only persisted in bis errors and 
infected many with them, but with baying lately had another book clandestinely 
printed at Vienne, in Dauphiny, filled with the like heresies and execrable blas- 
phemi'es against the Holy Trinity, the Son of God, the baptism of infants
other sacred doctrines, the foundation of the Cbristian religion. Item. With 
having in the said book called all who believe in a Trinity, tritheists, and even 
atheists, and the Trinity Îtsrlf a demon or monster having three heads. Item. 
With having blasphemed horribly, and said that Jesus Christ was not the Son 
of God from aU eternity, but only became so from bis incarnation; that he is 
not the son of David according to the flesh, but was created of the substance 
of God, having- receh"ed three of his constituent elements from God. and one 
only from the .Virgin 
rary, whereby he wickedly proposed to abolish tIle true 
and entire humanity of J eSlis Christ. Item. 1\ith declaring the baptibill of 
infants to be sorcery and a diabolical invention. Item. 'fith havin
other blasphemies, with which the book in question is fun, all alike against the 
majesty of God, the Son of God, and the Holy Ghost, to the ruin of many poor 
souls, betrayed and desolated by 
uch detestable doctrines. Item. '\"ith having, 


10 3 

full of malice, entitled the said book, though crammed with heresies, against 
the holy evangelical doctrine, 'Christianismi Restitutio '-' The Re::;toration of 
Christianity'-the better to deceive and seduce poor, ignorant folks, poisoning 
them all the while they fancied they were sitting in the shadow of sound doc- 
trine. Item. 'Vith attacking our faith by letters as well as by 11Îs book, and 
saying to one of the ministers of this city that our holy evangelical doctrine 
is a religion without faith, and, indeed, without God', we having a Cerberus 
with three heads for our God. Item. For having perfidiously broken and escaped 
frmn the prison of Vienne, where he l1ad been confined because of the wicked 
and abominable opinions confessed in his book. Item. For continuing obstinate 
in his opinions, not only against the true Christian religion, but as an arrogant 
innovator and inventor of heresies against popery, which led to his being burned 
in effigy at Vienne, along with five bales of l1is books. Item. And in addition 
to all of which, being confined in the jail of this city, he has not ceased mali- 
ciously to persist in the aforesaid wicked and detestable errors, attempting to 
maiiltain them, with calumnious abuse of all true Christians, faithful followers 
of the iuunaculate Christian religion, calling them tritheists, atheists, and sor- 
cerers, in spite of the remonstrances made to hhn in Germany, as said, and in 
contempt of the reprehensions and corrections he has received, and the im- 
prisonment he has undergone as well here as elsewhere. 
" Now we, the syndics and judges in criminal cases within this city, having 
reviewed the process carried on before 11S, at the instance of our lieutenant 
having charge of such cases, against thee, Michael Servetus, of .Villanova, in 
the kingdom of Aragon, in Spain, whereby guided, and by the voluntary con- 
ions made before us, many times repeated, as well as by thy books pro- 
duced before us, we decree and determine that thou, 
Iichael Servetus, hast, 
for a long time, promulgated false and lleretical doctrine, and, rejecting all 
remonstrance and correction, hast maliciously, perversely, and obstinately, con- 
tinued disseminating and divulging, even by the printing of books, blasphemies 
against God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, in a word, against the 
whole foundations of the Christian religion, thereby seeking to create schism 
and trouble in the Church of God, many souls, rnembers of which, may have 
been ruined and lost-horrible and dreadful thing, scandalous and contaminating 
in thee, thou, having no shame nor horror in setting thyself up in all against 
tbe Divine 
ajesty and the IToly Trinity, and having further taken pains to 
infee.t, and given thyself up obstinately to continue infecting, the world with 
thy heresies and stinking heretical poison-case and crime of heresy gricvous 
awl detestable, deserving of severe corporal punishment. 
"These and other just causes moving us, desiring to purge the Church of 
God of such infection, and to cut off from it so rotten a member, we, sitting 
as a judicial tribunal in the seat of our ancestors, with the entire assent of 
the General Council of the state, and our fellow-citizens, calling on the name 
of God to deliver true judgment, having the Holy Scriptures before us, and 
saying, In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, we now pronounce 
our final sentence, and condemn thee, :Michael Servetus, to be bound and taken 
to Champel, and there bound to a stake, to he burned alive, along with thy 
books, printed as well as written by thy hand, until thy body be reduced to 
ashes. So shall thy days end, and thou be made an example to others ". ho 
would do as thou hast done. And we command you, our lieutcllunt, to see 
this our sentence carried forthwith into execution." 

The sta
 according to custom, w
s t 1)(>11 hrok<.'l) oycr t h(' prisoner, 

lR SCIEJ.VCE .11IO.J..'''''THLY. 

and there ,vas silence for n. n10ment. Tbe terrible sentence pro- 
nounced, the silence that followed was first broken hy Ser\Tetus; Dot 
to sue for mercy, for he knew there was no appcal, but to entreat that 
the manner of carrying it out might he cOlllmuted for one less dread- 
ful. "lIe feared," he said, "that, through excess of pain, he Inight 
prove faithless to hilllself, and belie the convictions of his life. If be 
had erred, it was in ignorance; JJe was so constituted, mel:tally and 
1IloraHy, as to desire the glory of Goel, and l}ad ahvays strÌ\'en to 
abide by the teachings of the Scriptures." I-lis appeal to the hu- 
manity of the judges, ho,vever, met ,vith no response. lIe prayed 
God to forgive his enemÏ<.-"s and l)crsecutors, and then exclain1ed : "-0 
God, save my soul! 0 Jesus, Son of the Eternal God, have c0111pas- 
sion upon me!" From tbe Hôtel-de-ViUe\he ,vas taken to Chan1pe1. 
'Vhile on the way tbither, Farel, the minister who accol11pallicd him, 
trieJ to wring from bim an avo,val of bis error, and the prayer, " Jesus, 
thou Eternal Son of God!" The unhappy Servetus, with a Inartyr's 
faith, only replied in broken invocation, " Jesus, tbou Son of the 
Eternal God, have compassion upon me ! " 
" When he came in sigbt of the fatal pile, the wretched Servetus prostrated 
himself on the ground, and for a while was absorbed in prayer. Hising and 
advancing a few steps, be found himse1f in the lumds of the executioner, by 
'whom be was made to sit on a block, l1is feet just reaclIing th
 grounù. His 
body was then bound to tIIe stake b.ehind bim by sev-eral turns of an iron chain, 
w l1ile his neck was secured in like lTIanner by the coils of a hempen rope. Bis 
two books-the one in manuscript sent to Calvin in confidence six or eight 
years before for his strictures, and a copy of the one lately printed at "-'-icnne- 
were then fastened to his waist, and bis bead was encircled in mockery váth a 
cbaplet of straw and green twigs bestrewed with brimstone. The deadly torcb 
was then applied to the fagots and flashed in his face; and the brimstone 
catching, and tIIe flames rising, wrung frOln the victim sucb a cry of anguish as 
struck terror into the surrounding crowd. After this he was braycly silent; 
but the wood being purposely green, a long half-hour elapsed before he ceased 
to show signs of life and suffering. Immediately before giving up the ghost, 
with a last expiring effort, he cried aloud, , Jesus, thou Son of tbe Eternal God, 
have compassion upon me!' All was then bushed save the crackling of tbe 
green wood; and by-and-by there remained no more of what bad l)een Michael 
Servetus but a charred and blackened trunk, and a handful of ashes." 
Thus l)el'isbed a noble man of ""horn his age 'was not worthy-the 
vÌctÏ1n of murderous religious bigotry. But the crime that had been 
committed shocked the humanity of Geneva, even in that dark period, 
and, before the year 'was out, Calvin ,vas driven to self-defense, and 
playcd the remorseless traits of his character by libeHng the Ulan 
w.holn he had slain. It is said that, in this !)ersccution unto death,11e 
only n1anifested the spirit of l1Ís age, anc1 must be judged by that 
f"taudard. 'Vhile this may 1)e true, it is also happily true that in the 
 of centuries better standards have arisen, by ,yhich the character 
of Cah-in "rill be given over to execration, while that of Servetus ,vill 
he in.creasingly honored as that of an heroic Christian n1artyr. 


10 5 


To the Ed
"or of tIle Popular SCienc8 Montlùy. 
S IR: Rcturning a day or two ago to Co- 
lumbus at the end of our vacation, I 
last night took up the September numbcr of 
is a lettcr from EVdnston, Illinois, in which 
some of Prof. Schncider's mi.stakes, in his 
article on H The Tides," arc pointed out. 
Two or three yeal's ago 
fr. Schneider causeù 
his explan:ttion of the tides to be printed in 
a little periodical used extensively by Ohio 
tea,chers-I refer to l'lotcs and Queries, Sa- 
lem, Ohio. The errors of fact and philoso- 


phy were then pointed out in that journal. 
And, inasmuch as Prof. Carhart has ab'ltn- 
dantly exposed 
Ir. Rchneider's mistakes, I 
content myself with showing a single point. 
The whole article on " The tides" is a bundle 
of absurdities, mistakes of fact and philos- 
ophy, and errors of figures in regard to 
Ir. Schneider, knowing abso- 
lutely nothing of the theory of the tides, as 


understood and explained for the last two 
hundred years, has concocted a maRS of 
nonseu!';e which is set out a
 the only ra- 
tional theol'Y. I incline to thc opinion that 
the Sew York gentleman who advised 
!o print the articlc was playing a practical 
Joke on 
Ir. Schneidcr, or else he belong:; to 
that order of city mathematicians who rec- 
ommended Denson's "Geometry," a work 

in which there is proof (?) that an inscribed 
polygon of twelve sides is exactly equal to 
the circ1e which contains the polygon-i. e., 
circumscribes the polygon. Haù this new 
philosophy been put forth in the ordinary 
newspapers of the day, no notice would 
have been taken of it. On page 276, July 
we find the following: U The earth will then 
feel a centrifugal force on her side farthest 
from the moon, and equal to the centripetal 
force felt on her side fi.\cing the moon. 
These two equal forces, acting in opposite 
directions," etc. On page 279: "This 




force [centrifugal] acts in a linc tangent to 
the earth's orbit." Then the centripetal 
force must also act parallel to the" tangent 
to the earth's orbit; " and so, whether you 
are a mathematician or not, you can ea
see that things are going on at loose ends, 
if they act in this way. (See Fig. 1.) Did you 
ever elsewhere see, or hear either, of such a 
centripetal or such a centrifugal force? 

FIG. 2. 

Again, on page 276: " This large amount 
of centrifugal force is produced by axial 
rotation, by revolution round the sun, amI 
by revolution round the centre of gravity 
[between the earth and the moon] already 
named. " 
Let us sce: the contrifugal forcc, in con. 
nection with the rcvolution of the earth on 
its axis, is uniform all around the equator 



-consequent1y it cannot have any part in 
producing a tide at one side of the earth 
merely. This must be ruled out. 
Let us take up the last item of the thrce. 
C(}'ig. 2) is the centre of gravity between the 
moon and the earth, about 3,000 miles from 
the earth's centre, and 1,000 from the sur- 
face. K ow, the centrifugal force is always 
proportional to the distance from the centre 
of motion, other things being equal (see 
finy work on mechanics). Then the force 
at D is seven times as great as the force at 
.A, for it is se\'en times as far from C. 
Therefore the tide at D will be seyen times 
fiS high as that at A. Do Jour.K ew York 
tides play such tricks? 
It b al:-:o easy to show that the first 
item of the three has nothing to do with the 
tides. So in that sentence there are three 
hald-f:lCed absurditie
; and in fact there 
arc about as many such as there are sen- 
tences in the whole article. A hundred 
pages of manuscript are not sufficient to 
Eho\v them all1Jp. 
Take the next two sentences following 
the preceding, viz. : "The direction of these 
three forces is in the same line. The mo- 
tion of this part of her surface, which is in 
tbis line of direction, is therefore the most 
rapid; con;ö:equently the centrifugal force 
felt here is abo the greatest." 
Scan this closely, and) ou will find what 
the logicians call a 'l'irio1ls circle in the rea- 
soning. R. 'V. )IcFARLAZ\D, 
}>rofessor of :Mathematics, etc., Ohio 

-\gricultural and )lechanical College. 
nrrs, Omo, &ptember 12, lSí7. 


To tlte Edit01' ojïlLe Popular Science ;JJontltly. 
THE discus::;ion of the present econom- 
ical problem, the dept'ession of profits and 
wages, which the artic1e of Prof. Bonamy 
Price (" One per Cent.") initiated, ought to 
be continued, and facts and opinions ought 
freely to be contributed tm,ard a fun un- 
tanding of the subject. 
Prof. Price wntes from the rnone,-cen- 
tre, and reflects the state of enlightened 
opinion as influenced by his 
The money accumulated there represents 
, and he very naturally and very 
T finds fault with our extrayagance. 
Xext comes Mr. Bunce, in the July num- 
ber (" O\'er-CoDsumption or Oyer.Produc- 
 "), giying the views as held in a man- 
ufacturing" centre; he admits over-produc- 
.tion and ath.i::;es restriction. 
, the di
tri1Jutive ( or trade) centre, 
K ew York, will not submit to; and Mr. 
Leland, in the August number, expo:-es the 
fa Hacy of some of )11'. Bunce's rea:::oning. 
'Yithout wishing to imply that tbese writ. 
ers did not intend to present the question 

in its total aspect, Jet they are viewing it 
through the glass of their surroundillgs; 
and, if I now add the opinion which is held 
in an agl'icultural region, the next writer 
wiJI include this and make his exposition 
more comprehensive. 
'Vein the agricultural districts deny 
tbat tbere is over-production in our line, or 
stagnation of trade in our articles. The factt! 
are, that witb tbree very good harvests and 
several average ones previously, we have not 
produced more than has been consumed. 
At the end of June, when tbe present 
abundant wheat-harvest wa
 begun, there 
was not old wheat sufficient for a month's 
home supply in the "
estern granary. r.Ghe 
new wbeat was hurried from tbe threshing- 
machine to the mill and ground immedi- 
ately, to 
l the regular orders for the Bos- 
ton, K ew York, and Philadelphia markets. 
Evidently, there has been no oYer-produc- 
tion in ",heat or in corn. 'Ye have readily 
sold all our beef-cattle, our sheep and swine, 
our wool, fruit, and dairy products. The 
production of all these has met the demand, 
and we have realized fair prÍl:e
And, as a natural consequence, there 
h:1S ùeen no stagnation nor depression in 
our trade. Our farmers and smaU town 
and viJIage mechanics, and our 
man retail 
, have had all the ll('ct'::;Ea1'Íes of life 
in abundance, and not a few of the comforts. 
:Mortgages have been lifted, improvements 
have been made, surplus cash is in all our 
sayings-banks at four per cent. or less in- 
terest to tbe depositors. Our trade centres, 
doing the honest business of first - balJd 
traffic, are proFpering. 
All thr<Jugh our c01.mtry) farms and 
fisheries }1ave Dot produced more grain, 
meat, or wool, than has teen consumeà 
from one harvest to another. But we have 
produced more cotton than can be worn 
out from one year to another. Our mines 
have )'ielded more iron, in many places 
more coal, than is wanted; much le
s iron 
is now required for trades-tools, machinery, 
and railroading, than at that not far-distant 
period when a great deal was consumed in 
building new roads and erecting new ma- 
chinery where there had been none before. 
Mines are bringing up more sih-er than can 
be usefully employed; hence it is being 
hoarded, and its price mu
The cotton and the iron arc forced up- 
on the converting trades, in which so many 
mill. hands and factory-operatives are em- 
ployed. The raw material in excess be- 
comes cheaper. The conyerted products, 
the articles manufactured for con::-umption, 
are in exces
, and, forcing themselves upon 
the market, reduce prices., as well their own 
as the price of the labor tbat produced 
and distributed them. And, as a last con- 
sequence, these products are glutting the 
shelves of the merchants' warerooms, di- 
minishing the profits of the carrier and 


. lC7 

All efforts at relief from the dull times' 
must lie in the same direction. .A large 
number of ou l' roilJ-hands and factory -oper- 
atives must take to farming, must raise 
themselves the food for their families, and 
some to exchange for comforts which their 
fields and herd:; cannot directly gÍ\>e. 
The old roiB-hands ought not to attempt 
the change; but the young and middle-aged 
ought, and escape from their "bonda
e)) in 
the East to the free fields of our wide \Vest- 
erll country. F. A. NITCHY. 

merchant to a trifle, a:ld ending in bank. 
ruptcy and strikes. 
If all our cotton-mills and their depend- 
encies, all our iron industries, and some 
others, were to suspend, we should not ex- 
haust the supply on hand of their fabrics 
for quite a number of years. 
To sum up- 
1. There is no over-production of grain 
and meat. 
2. There is a great surplus of textile, 
iron, and similar fabrics. 
Hence, there is a one-sided over-produc- 
. tion, a one-sided depression of prices for 
labor and for fabrics; and, on the othel' 
side, a normal prosperity and attending ac- 
cumulation of savings. THE GREAT RAILROAD-STRIKE OF lSi1. 
The problem for relief at once presents 
elf in the question whether a cbange of To the Editor of the Popular Science :Jlontllly. 
occupation of a considerable number of fac- THE loss from peculation in the mallao-e- 
tory-olJeratives, mechanics, and forward- ment of raihva
's has pr 
een ex
ers, fl'om the trades to agriculture, would þerated; t?ese Important lDstltuÍlons have, 
afford the remedy and reëstablish the equi- 1Il the mam, been conducted on bu
librium. I principles, with an eye to dividends. Those 
The farmer, e\'en at the most 'Vestern in control have aimed-with sllccess, until 
frontier, has always a sufficiency of food recently-to sÇcure competent and willing 
raised by himself, and generally a surplus, aid, and the .esprit de C01ïJS so e

ential in 
adequate for furnishinO' his family some great enterprIses. But managers and men 
comforts, and always independence. are alike the victims of a train of circum- 
If a large majority of the weavers and stances. foreseen onl
 by a few political 
machine-workers of to-day were to become economIsts. The plam fact is, that tbe 
agl'iculturists, they would become consum- railroad system finds itself in the brunt of 
ers instead of producers of the very arti. a movement that has been long approach- 
cles which are now made in excess; and, iug culmination. )lultitudes of Ollr native 
while the price of the articles mio-ht not be youth, seduced by the supposed attractions 
advanced, those that made them ;ould have and opportunities of the city, and swarms 
full and stead
r, instead of interrupted and of the poorer immigrants, have precipitated 
uncertain, employment-a double gain on the catastrophe, by swelling the already 
the present di::;turbed state. oyercrowded centres of population-have 
No legislative or government interfer- added to the number to be fed, by deeimat- 
ence is needed or desirable. The adjust. ing the army of producers-have lowered 
ment of the disturbed equilibrium in the the price of labor, by increasing the llum- 
productions will work itself out as soon as bel' of applicants. Reduction of extrava- 
the true caUSCR of the" stagnation in traùe" gant salaries and other "leaks" is to be 
are clearly understood. commended, but will not, it is to be feared, 
A case in point will illustrate. In a small effect any material increase of wages for a 
county town, the trade-centre of a good. long time to come, and that from no indis- 
farming district, the retail stores had done position on the part of managers, but from 
a very profitahle business up to about 1874. ca1.tses beyond IheÌJ' control. 
As a natural consequence, many persons Populations have been pas
ing throup:b 
with a small capital had engaged in this the throes of greater social transitions than 
line; finally their sales diminished, profits were ever before crowded into a ccntury, 
declined, because their number had in- and a vast amount of inconvenience was and 
creased beyond the former ratio between is inevitable. The immense industries cre- 
stores and customers. A few of them ated by labor-saving machinery have, in 
looked about for other occupations. One not a few instances, outrun the present de- 
engaged in tanning, which was a good field; mand, and hence-too often-an advancing 
another started a custom grist-mill, for throng of :lspirants has rounel it
elf con- 
which there was a demand; another opened fronted with another throng in disorderly re. 
a pork-packing establishment; another went treat: the re
ult is a fierce :;:tru::rgle for ex- 
into farming 011 a large scale. Here, the istence, in which reason exercises but a 
overcrowding with its attendant evits was feeble sway. 
understood as the cause of the decline in X ature and Providence are inexorable, 
trade; the enterprising members of the and take no thought for the individual in- 
profession left it for occupations that pay trudcr in their lrctck. These forces are now 
better, and the equilibrium has been reës- apparently engaged in starviu!!' the surplus 
tablished. humanity back into the cornfields. 




But he is a sorry physician who is con- 
tent with a diagnosis of the disease, and 
prescribes no PI'cventive, or even remedy; 
and a::i in the cOL'poreal body, so in the body 
COI'porate--the best remedy is that which 
operates throu
h natural forces: let us see if 
such cannot he made available. Cannot this 
drift citywarù be check('d, or even turned 
}jackward, by rendcring farm-life more at- 
tractive to young men? For example: 
Instead of isolated homesteads, often 
miles asunder, why not dedicate a central 
space for a gooù, old-fashioned Saxon 
"common," which might hold the school, 
the church, the park, and other amenities 
of civilization, and be surrounded by the 
dwellings of tbe settlement? ..1nd why 

cannot parents, instead of placinO' their 
sons in dusty city offices, or behind ignoble 
counters, enable these younO' men-with 
the aid of competent experts, 
 here neces- 
sary-to establish such settlements? Might 
ducation in such a community, by em- 
bracmg tbe study of natural object
, appli(c d 
science, and 
he practice of handicraft
convert materIal that now evolveg into 
boors, "hoodlurn:-;," or U counter-hoppers," 
into. interested (because intelligent) and oc- 
cupIed producers, for whom rural life and 
scenes would possess attractions superior to 
the vulgar dissipations of the faubourg and 
the feverish competitions of trade 
CIXCJXSATI, .AU(JU8t 10, lSi7. 


IT is a great mistake to suppose that 
all the influences exerted on tIle 
Inind by scientific study are necessa- 
rily of a widening or libera1izing char- 

lcter. TIIere is an immense amount 
of leóitimate scientific work that does 
not tend to produce any such effect, 
but, on the contrary, has a narrowing 
and cramping influence upon the intel- 
lect. The intense and prolonged con- 
centration of thought upon special in- 
(luiries, when it becomes a Labit, ex- 
cludes that breadth of vimv which can 
only be attained by contemplating sub- 
jects in their wide relations. Absorp
tion in detail is inevitably unfavorable 
to tIle grasp of principles, so that the 
mere speeialist is never a philosopher. 
Of course, all strong scientific TIlen 
must be more or less specialists, lnust 
limit themselves to restricted portions 
ûf the scientific field; but in such minds 
1.l1e narrowing influences of particular 
studies are counteracted by keeping up 
an interest in T"arious subjects, and tl1C 
comprehensive results of research. 
There are many scientific workers, 
howe"\""er, who fuil to do this, who lose 
themselves in their own narrow dc- 
partments, and become, not only in- 
appreciati"\""e of the grand connections 
of scientific truth, but contemptuous of 


the higher ,,'ork of scientific generali- 
zation. They applaud observation and 
experiment, and the accumulation of 
isolated facts, and stigmatize as mere 
theorizers tllOse "Vi ho labor to organize 
these facts and observations into ra- 
tional systems. It is not to be ex- 
pected, nor is it desirable, that an sci- 
entific workers sllould be philosophical 
thinkers, but there is great need that 
n1any of them should cultivate a more 
liberal spirit in this respect, and recog- 
nize that the systematic study of the 
relations of the sciences is as much a 
legitimate specialty as the working 
out of their separate and disconnected 
There is anotller respect in which a 
large class of scientific men exhibit a 
narrowness of feeHng that is far from 
commendáble. Tbey cherish but little 
sympathy with the work of diffusing 
science, and take frequent occasion to 
disparage the motives and character of 
those of their brethren who dc"\""ote 
themselves to this kind of labor. 'Ye 
are glad to notice that the Saturday 
Reviell) administers a just rebuke to 
these illiberal and censoriolls gentle- 
men. Commenting upon President 
Thomson's address before tlle British 
Association, that journal remarks: 
" It is a thankless office to haye to re- 


cord, as we are now compelled to do, that 
this time the impression was not a very 
favorable one. In one word, the president's 
discourse was much too technical for the 
occasion and the audience. It would be un- 
generous to cast any personal responsibility 
for this result on the eminent specialist who 
was chosen for the office. The gift of inter- 
preting the results of highly-special re- 
searches for the benefit of those who are not 
prepared beforehand by special know ledge 
is by no means a common one-in fact, it is 
itself a specialty which very few have mas- 
tered; for which reason people who are 
anxious to parade themselves as amateurs 
in science are much in the habit of cheapen- 
ing it. The notion that Prof. Huxley and 
Prof. Tyndall are mere popularizers-be- 
cause, forsooth, they can expound as weU as 
discover-has almost attained tbe rank of a 
vulO'ar error. Some remarks to that effect 
 heard at this very meeting in the' 
Guildhall of Plymouth. Those who imag- 
ine that such l'emarks give them a scicntif:" 
ic air may be assured that there is no more 
certain stamp of a narrow and superficial 
habit of mind. However, we cannot all go 
to Corinth; a speGialist, however eminent, 
has not necessarily the gift of large and lu- 
cid exposition, and if he has not, the temp- 
tation to take refuge in the technical details 
of his own province is almost irresistible." 

The pettiness and jealousy here rep- 
robated is by no means confined to 
England; it has become a sort of cant 
among many reputable scientific men 
in the United States. The contemptu- 
ous remarks often made of the efforts 
of such men as Huxley and Tyndall to 
make science acceptable to the public 
are not always inspired by envy; they 
betray a very low estimate, often tinged 
with scorn, of all efforts to reduce sci- 
ence to a form acceptable to common 
people. 'Ye have had occasion repeat- 
edly to can attention to the paradox 
that, in this country, eminent for its 
popular institutions and its popular 
education, scientific Tnen are in less 
hearty sympathy with the work of 
popularizing scientific education than 
they are in England. The American 
Scientific Association bas persistently 
declined to take any interest in the 
question, while the British Association, 

10 9 

upon which it was modeled, has done 
much to encourage and promote thig 
kind of effort. Although our teacher
and boards of education have often and 
urgently called for assistance in organ- 
izing courses of study in which science 
should receive increasing attention, and 
be more methodica1Jy and efficiently 
cultivated, we are not aware tllat any 
aut1lOritative body of An1erican scien- 
tists has ever troubled itself to offer ad- 
vice or respond to such appeals. 
There is, of course, a certain validity 
in the reply that scientific bodies are 
organized for other purpo:;es, and that, 
as Agassiz used to put it, "it i
office to create science, and not to dis- 
tribute it-the latter function being the 
office of our educational system." But 
if our system fail of its duty in this par- 
ticular, it is certainly incumbent on 
those influential bodies, who have the 
interests of science in charge, to exert 
such an influence upon the schools as 
shan tend to secure tIle object, and, fail- 
ing to do this, they arc chargeable with 
a culpable indifference toward the work 
of ma1;cing science common and popular. 
The plea that scientific men are absorbed 
in investigations, and have little time 
to give to these outside considerations, 
is quite sufficient to excuse a simple 
non-participation in such work; but 
there is abundant reason to tI1Înk that 
the plea is often an uncandid pretext, 
and that the disinclination to act is due 
to narrow and petty prejudices upon 
the subject. 
The indifference of many scientific 
men to the work of popularizing science, 
and their iII-concealed disdain of those 
who succeed in it, arc no doubt largely 
due to" their incapacity to share in it. 
We have, unfortunately, but few scien- 
tific men with sufficient literary train- 
ing to write with elegance or lecture 
with eloquence upon topics which they 
may nevertheless thoroughly under- 
stand, and the number of scientific pro- 
fessors who fail in exposition before 
the public, and even before their col- 


lege classes, is unfortunately large. The I processes which have for their object 
art of vivid, effective presentation by the establishment of truth. Logic, of 
language is so difficult that, unless a course, grew up into a system before 
nlan bas a genius in this way, it requires the sciences were developed; but it 
great laùor to attain even a moderate was a partial and imperfect logic. Fol- 
excellence in it, and when attained there lowing the modern developments of sci- 
is no doubt a presumption that it is at ence, growing out of them, and seri- 
the expense of more solid things. Yet ously influenced by all thcir great steps 
there is no reason why men of real sci- of advance, we bave a body of logical 
ence should not be able to arrive at and philosophical disquisitions tbat are 
llHlCh greater proficiency as literary ar- presented by such men as IIerscbel, 
tists than is customary with them, if "
hewell, Mill, and Jevons, who peal 
they would cultivate more liberal views with the mental operations involvtd in 
of the importance of popular work. At the investigation of truth, in tIle full 
all events, if our scientific men will not light o
 modern scientific experience. 
be at the pains to train themselves in Yet this interesting field of thought 
the art of attractive popular exposition, must be regarded as only fairly open
and will be content to write and speak and the works of the eminent gent]e- 
in the bald, technical, involved, and re- men referred to, though permanently 
pulsive style which is so common WitIl valuable, are no doubt nHlCh in the na- 
lllan:Y, let them not reproach others ture of preliminary inquiries, to be yet 
for setting a higher value upon the ac- carried out more thoroughly, and re- 
complislnnents of the successful public duced to greater unity and harmony. 
teacher. Impressed with the importance of this 
great phase of the intellectual work of 
the age, ". hich it is one of the lead- 
ing objects of THE PoprLAR SCIEXCE 
:MOXTIIL y to promote, it has been our 
good-fortune to secure tle services of 
an independent thinker and able writer, 
who "Will contribute to onr pages a 
series of articles under the general title 
of "Illustrations of the Logic of Sci- 
ence." The author has already attained 
an honorable elninence in the world of 
science by the promulgation of ad \
views of logical nletbod, and he will 
reduce these views to a nlorc systematic 
and popular form in the papers now to 
be pub1ished. We call flttention to the 
first essay of this series in the present 
number, which, though but introduc.. 
tory, nlay bc taken as foreshadowing 
the interest of the discussions that are 
to follow. 

WE have spoken in the foregoing 
article of the propensity of certain sci- 
entific men to lnaf-mify facts and depre- 
ciate theories. This is not only an 
evidence of narrownes
, but of igno- 
rance, for facts are of no value without 
tIleories. They are good for nothing 
until explained, or brougl1t by reason 
into relation with other facts, so that 
some step is taken toward the estab- 
lishment of a law. It is this connection 
of science with methods of thought, 
and its value as a means of arriving at 
the best methods, that give it its clahn 
upon tIle attention of all intelligent 
lnell. The demand for its popular rec- 
ognition, and its prominent place in 
education, rests far less upon its ser'Vice 
in the grosser utilities of life than on its 
influence upon the higher intellectual 
operations. Science 1Jeing tested and 
verified, clearly reasoned and demon- 
strated truth just to the degree in which 
it is matured, it must stand in tIle most 
intimate relations with those logical 

IT will hardly be necessary to invite 
the reader's attention to an article. to 
be also foUowed by others, on "The 
Growth of the Steam-Engine." That 



revolutionary machine, which is so in- , tive of their religious beliefs, which were 
timately interwoven with the develop- , purely local and national. For these, Chris- 
ment of civilization, is itself a part of tianity substituted the belief in ûne God, 
that development, and as much a prod- and the doctr
ne of the unity of God en- 
uct of evolution as an oak a thousanù forced the umty of man; anù there was 
years old. The interesting story of its thus forme
 a com
unity of the faithful- 
f ld ' f I th h a holy empIre-desIgned to gather all men 
un 0 Ing r01n ear y germs, rong . . 
I d I b . . t t th mto ItS bosom. Thus the Holv Homan 
onO' an a orIOUS experllnen s, 0 e 
o .. . Church and the Holy Roman EmpIre were 
com plete IntegratIOn of the mechanIsm, d th th .. t t 
. . one an e same mg 1ll wo aspec s. 
WIll. be told by P
hurston In suc- As divine and eternal, its head was the 
ceSSlve papers, wInch wIll be freely and pope, to whom souls were intrusted; a
elegantly illustrated. The, accompany- man and temporal, the emperor, commis- 
ing "portrait-gallery" of the great in- sioned to rule over men's bodies and acts. 
ventors who have contributeù to this Chapters are devoted to the subjects" Im- 
grand mechanical achievement will be perial Titles and Pretensions;" "Changes 
the finest anù fullest afforded by the in the Germanic Constitution;" "The Em- 
historic literature of the subject. pire as an International Power;" "The 
City of Rome in the Middle Ages; " "Effects 
of the Renaissance and Reformation on the 
Empire;" its last phases and end in 1806 
by the abdication of Francis II., 1,006 Jears 
IES after Leo the pope had crowned the Frank- 
BRYCE, D. C. L., Regius Professor of ish king. A supplementary chapter is 
Civil Law in the University of Oxford. added on "The New Germanic Empire," and 
12mo. Pp.479. New York: Macmil- 
lan & Co. 1877. Price, $2. an appendix of notes on "Imperial Titles 
and Ceremonies." To the whole is prefixed 
TIlE Holy Roman Empire dates from the 
a "Chronological Table of Emperors and 
)'"ear 800 A. D, when a Idng of the Franks 
Popes," and" Dates of Important Events 
was crowned Emperor of the Romans by 
in the History of the Empire." 
Leo III.; and it is on the inner nature of 
The treatment and style of the work are 
this empire, as the most signal instance of 
. . judicial and scholarly, and the book will 
the fusIOn of Roman and Teutomc elements d btl b t d I tl 1 . t 
. . .. . ou ess e a s an arc one on lC su )Jec s 
m modern cIvIlIzatIOn, that the author f 1 . h . k I 1 b k bl 
. . .. 0 W lIC It spea s. t laS een remar"a y 
dwells, treating of the mfluence whICh It I 11 . d II . d h . I d 
. . .we receIve on a SI es antl CT a rea y 
exercIsed over the mmds of men, and the d h h d . . ' 0 . 
. . passe t rou{\" seven e JtIOns. 
causes that gave It power; speakmg less of 0 
events than of principles, and describing 
the empire, not as a state, but as an insti- THE PHYSIOLOGY OF )Iem. Being the First 
tution created by and embodying a won- Part of a Third Edition, re,oised, en- 
derful system of ideag. The forms which Iar
ed, and in 
reat part rewritten, of 
"The Physiolof!'Y and Patholog-y of 
the empire took, in the several sta!!es of its '\ 1 d " u H }\[ ,r D 
'-' l' in. DY Er>õRY AI:'DSLEY, 
. . 
growth, are briefly sketched. .A glance is Pp. 547. 1\ ew York: D. ....\ppleton & Co. 
taken at the condition of the Roman world 1877. Price, 82. 
in the third and fourth centuries, in order TEN years ago, Dr. )rauù::;ley h:sued a 
to make clear out of what elements tbe im- large, well-elaborateù volume Uliller the 
perial system was formed. title of "The Pbygiology and Pathology of 
Expiring antiquity had bequeathed to Mind." It was well received, and a second 
the ages that followed two great ideas-a edition was called for, which has been now 
world-monarchy and a world-religion. The for some time out of print. Afrer several 
Roman dominion, giving to many nations a years' furthf'r study of the subject, and 
mmon speech and law, broke down the I availing himself of the great activity of 
dIfferences of race and nationality-"when investigation in this branch during the la:,t 
foreigner and enemy were synonymous decade, Dr. 
laudsley hns revised llÍs work, 
terms-and made citizens of them irrespec- and so extended it that it became desirahb 




to make it into two volumes instead of one. 
That which was the first part now appears 
as a separate voLume, confined to the physi- 
ology of mind; anù will be followed by its 
sequel, or companion-work, as a separate 
treati::;e on mental pathology. It is an ex- 
cellent thing on every account to divide the 
original work in this way, for, although the 
subjects are most intimately connected, they 
can be just as well studied together now as 
before, while there will unquestionably be 
many who will care chiefly for but one of 
the volumes. That now issued has an inter- 
est for all students of the philosophy of 
mind, while the one fonowing will more 
directly concern the medical profession. 
"The Physiology of Mind" by Dr. :Mauds- 
ley is a very engaging volume to read, as it 
is a fresh and vigorous statement of the 
doctrines of a growing sC'ientific school on 
a subject of transcendent moment, and, be- 
sides many new facts and important views 
brought out in the text, is enriched by in- 
structive notes and quotations from author-. 
itative writers upon physiology and psy- 
chology, and by illustrative cases which 
add materially to the interest of the book. 
'Ye have room for but one of these, show- 
ing tl1C manner in which the loss of one 
sense is followed by an extension or in- 
crease of function of those which remain: 

":\Iany years a
o application was made to 
Dr. Howe. of the 'Ias8achusetts A8ylum for the 
Blind. by a locksmith for the 'luan ' of a blind 
boy, as he said, who had quick ears and a silent 
mouth. On giving satisfactory answers he got 
his loan. He wonted a boy to help him open a 
new and complicated lock. An inventor exhib- 
ited a locked safe and the key, Ëaying that there 
,,;3S money within, which should be given to 
whoever could open the lock without deranging 
it. The peculiarity of the lock wa!:', that it had 
ten bolt!'1, which, from all that could be ascer- 
tained, seemed exactly alike, but in reality one of 
them was an inch longer than the uthers, so that, 
when all were thrown forward, that one alone 
held the door closed. The key would lift any 
of the ten 110lts 
 but in order to open the safe 
it must be applied to the long- bo1t, and to that 
only, and that one mu
t be lifted and turned 
hack in order to open the lock; but if any other 
of the ten were lifted and turned back ever 
little, it deranged the combination, and the lock 
could only be opened by a peculiar instrument. 
The object, then, was to ascertain which of the 
ten was thrown forward without turning back 
any ot her one. 
"The mechanic lifted each bolt carefully with 
the key, and let it fan, but without trying to 
throw it back; and he tben tried to ascertain 

if in falling it ma(!e any peculiar noise; for he 
inferred that, fiS the only one wbich held tbe 
door was an inch longer than the others, it mu
fall with a slightly greater force; but the differ- 
ence was too slight for his ear. He took tbe 
blind lad, and asked him to Ih;ten carefully to 
the Bound wbich each bolt made as be lifted and 
let it fall. After listening to each intently, tl1e 
lad Baid the sixth one struck a little tl1e loudest. 
Tbe mechanic liftcd and let each one fall care- 
fully E'everal times, and each time tbe boy in- 
sisted that the sixth bolt sounded tbe loudcst. 
Upon tbis the mechanic lifted and turned back 
the sixth, and the lock was opened witbout the 
combination being deranged." 
No library of mental philosophy will be 
complete without this book, and no libebl 
student of the subject can refrain from giv- 
ing it his 
erious and critical attention. 

G. 12mo. 
Pp. 180. 'Vith Illustrations. Philadel- 
phia: Claxton, Remsen & Haffelfinger. 
1877. Price, $1.50. 
THE above book contains the result of 
the author's observation and study on the 
subject of lightning-protection during an 
eigl1tcen Jears' experience in the telegraph- 
business. After an introductory course of 
experiment with artificial lightning, and an 
explanation of the principal known facts 
relating to the electricity of the earth and 
atmosphere, the author proceeds to show 
that few of the lightning-rods or conduct- 
ors now erected can be relied upon for 
an easy passage of heavy lightning-dis- 
charges, and goes on to prove that the metal 
roof and rain-pipes of a building can be 
made a better protection at a reduced ex- 
pense. Explicit directions then follow for 
the protection of buildings of every descrip- 
tion, ships, oil-tanks, 8team-boilers, bridges, 
telegraph-poles, etc. 

From the Ame1.ican Cltemist. 
PROF. LEEDS does not assume to present 
a complete lithology of the Adirondack re- 
gion, but limits himself to gidng an outline 
of the work already done in that field: a 
description of the rocks so far collected by 
himself; analyses of some of the more im- 
portant typical rocks and minerals; results 
of microscopic study of rock-sections; and, 
finally, inferences drawn from these prem- 


Milwaukee: C. Dörfl.inger, printer. 
\.nnual Report of the :Natural His- 
tory Association of 'Visconsin shows a grati- 
fying increase in the number of members, 
and in thc specimens contained in the va- 
rious cahincts of natural history. The as- 
sociation embraces a section for zoölogy, 
one each for botany, mineralogy, geology, 
and ethnology, and the cabinets of each of 
these scctions received during the year a 
large nUIuber of aùditional specimens. The 
list of acti ve members embraces over 200 

WOOD. Pp. 4. 
FRmr the facts considered in this essay 
by 1>1'of. Kirkwood, it appears to follow that 
-1. The solar system has not existed over 
twenty or thirty million years; 2. That our 
solar system is n10re advanced in its physi. 
cal history than the larger component of the 
doublc ptar Alpha Centauri; 3. That 61 
Cygni has reached a greater degree of con. 
densation than the sun; and, 4. The com. 
panion of Sirius has reached a greater state 
of maturity than the sun, while the contrary 
seems to be true in regard to the principal 

By C. V. RILEY, ::\1. Ã., Ph. D. Pp. 236. 
""'ith numerous Illustrations and Col. 
ored )laps. Chicago: Rand, Mc
I:.;, Co. Pdce,;;Þ 1. 25. 
"TE have here the fruit of the author's 
long-continued. studies of the haunts and 
ha.bits of the Rocky :\Iountain locust, as 
published from time to time in the" Ento- 
mological Reports of Missouri" and in sun- 
dry periodicals. The subject of the book is 
one that possesses a lively interest for farm- 
ers over a wiùe area of our \Vestern States 
and Territories. Prof. RiJeJ's object in pub. 
lishing ill a separate volume all the infor- 
mation he has been able to acquire with 
regard to the Rocky :Mountain locust is a 
practical one - namelr, to acquaint the 
farmer with the means of counteracting 
this plague-hence he, as :fin as possible, 
avoids teelmicalities, and writes in a style 
easily inteJIigihle to the popular mind. 
VOL. XII.-8 


piled by E. E
lERY. Pp. 496. Peoria, 
Ill.: 'T-ranscript print. Price, $3. 
TIllS very convenient volume represents 
an enormous expenditure of labor in conect- 
ing statistical information in regard to " al- 
most everything of interest to man." The 
matter is gathered in every instance from 
the most authentic sources, and is presented 
to tbe reader in the smallest possible com- 
pass. The work is one of pernmllent value. 
It is full of useful information for men in 
every walk of life, as the farmer, the me. 
chanic, the merchant, the publicist, the 
schoolmaster, the man of letters, etc. 

Edited bv S.A)fGEL JARVIS McComnCK. 
Pp. 285. 
 New York: D. .Appleton & Co. 
Price, $1.50. 
IT was in this volume that publication 
was first made to' the outside wodd of the 
so-called" Blue-Laws" of Connecticut. Of 
these laws the autbor says that they were 
"never suffered to be printed." He does 
not profess to do more than to give "a 
sketch" of some of them, so as to exhibit 
the spirit which pervades the whole. \Yhat 
that spirit was can be seen from a few of 
the prohibitions of the coùe, for instance: 
" No one shall run on the Sabbath-day, or 
walk in his garden or elsewhere, except rev- 
erently to and from meeting. No woman 
shall kiss her child on the Sabbath or fast- 
ing-day. No one shall read common-prayer, 
keep Christmas or Saints-days, make minced. 
pies, dance, play calds, or play on any in- 
strument of music, except the drum, trnm- 
pet, and Jew's-harp. X 0 food or lodging 
shall be afforded to a Quaker, Adamite, or 
other heretic." The authcnticit}" of these 
laws Ims been called in question, and re- 
cently Mr. J. H. Trumbull published a work 
designed to show that the "False Blue- 
Laws" were invented by Dr. Peters. The 
object of Lhe editor in reþublishing the work 
is to make the public acquainted" ith the 
side of t.he question opposed to that of )Ir. 
Tl'UmbulI, and to confirm, as far as pos::.:iblc, 
by contemporary testimony, the truthfl11ne;;:g 
of D,'. Peters's summary of the Puritanic 
legislation of Connecticut and X C\Y IIa\en. 
But, quite apart from this que
tion, the 
work is one of real value, and well worthy 
the honor of republication 



CHISIlOL)[. Pp. 192. London: 
millan. Price, 81.50. 
THE author of this little treatise, after 
defining weight and measure, devotes a 
chapter to U Ancient Standards of 'Veight 
and Measure," in which it is shown that ac- 
curate standards were totally unknown to 
the ancients, and in particular that the 
standards of ancient Egypt were not based 
on the eart
's dimensions. The history of 
English standard units of weights and meas- 
ures is then given with considerable minute- 
ness; next follows a chaptcr on the metric 
s)'stem; finaHy, there is a cbaper on 
" 'Yeighing and Measuring Instruments, 
and their Sciontific Use." 

CIIELET. Transhlted bv VrxcENzo CALFA. 
New YOl'k: J. ,Yo 
outon. Pp. 347. 
Price, $3. 
THIS book is not, as might be inferred 
f1'om its title, a scripture which would be 
acceptable to the followers of Comte, nor 
would it answer as a foundation on which 
to build any creed. It is one of a class- 
compilations of moral, religious, and ethical 
teachings from various sources, witp com- 
ments and extensions 1:>y the compiler, and 
bearing the impress of his ideas, which in 
the case of M. )Iichelet are quite peculiar. 
It is rather more reverent and refined than 
John Stewart's U Bible of Nature," but it is 
an equally great misuse of words to call it 
a Bible. 
The literature and art of India, Persia, 
and Greece, U the three hearths of light," 
and of Egypt, U t he monument of death;' 
have inspired the greater part of the wOl'k. 
Of course, it is erotic; the commentary on 
the "Song of Songs," though rather free, 
prCFents that ùralra in a 'Wonderfully bold 
anù viviù way; and Chapters YI., YII., and 
YIII., which treat of woman, are marked by 
the unlwaUhy exaltation which appears in 
all of 
Iichdct's later works,, as 
the writer of th
 biographical sketch 8a
"to have been written under the influence 
of an uninterrupted honey-moon." 
It aims to be epigrammatic, abounds in 
italics anù exclam:ttion-points, and offers a 
rich field for phrase-hunters. It is among 
these and rather 
entimental transcenùen- 
talists that tbe book will find its reaùers. 

BLANCHARD, M. D. New York: Blanch: 
ard .Food-Dure Company. Pp. 67. Price, 
10 cents. 
TllESE so-called essays are papers osten- 
sibly on physiological subjects, but are 
really written to puff a lot of preparations 
sold by the author, who st}'les hhllself the 
"originator of the food-cure system." They 
are written in the stJle which characterizes 
that class of literature-various diseases are 
described, embellished with sensational hor- 
rors, which may be avoiùed and cured by 
the use of the food-remedies. 'Yhile Pa
Frankland, and other able investigators, are 
becoming, more and more wary in their 
statements as to the way in which food is 
assimilated, and are beginning to question 
positions that have heretofore been gen- 
erally accepted, Dr. Blanchard dogmati- 
c3.11y asserts his ability to furnish specific 
material which shall go directly to the de- 
fective spot in the system, and set about 
the work of repairing the wasted tissues 
and disorganized nerve and brain cells with. 
out delay. 
It is probably useless to expose the 
fallacies of this sort of trash j so long as 
people are content to remain in ignomnce 
of hygienic rules, and ignore the laws of 
waste anù supply, the platitudes of these 
venders will have readers, and their nos- 
trums find sale. 

lass. Pp. 70. 
 a recent notice of Commissioner 
Baird's Report on Food Fishe
, we ex- 
pressed a hope that a systematic list of the 
fisbes of American waters, with de
tions, and an account of habitat, seasons, 
etc., would some time be made. 
The papers included in the pamphlet 
before us are valuable contributions to such 
a .work. Û\'er the area indicated in the 
title the fighes have been catalogued and 
described with scientific accuracy, the locali- 
ties, relative abundance, and common names, 
are given, while the synonyms of their no- 
menclature receive due attention. K 0 at- 
tempt is made to give any account of the 
seasons, hahits, or manner of breeding, 


which would be of most interest to the lay 
reader; but this would, perhaps, be too 
much to expect of the scientific worker 
attempting to cover so much ground. 

1, Beptem
er. PuLli
hed monthly by 
DAVID \VILLlAMS, 83 Reade Street, Kew 
York. Price, $5 per year. :::;ingle copy, 
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THE pl'ojectors of this periodical are of 
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have become sufficiently important to haye 
a current literature of thcir own, and intend 
that this Review shall be a vehicle for dis- 
cussions on purely scientific topics, which 
are too abstruse for newspapers, and are 

iven to the public but slowly through the 
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This first number gives promise that 
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essays on the U :Mechanical Treatment of 

Ietals," by Prof. R. H. Thurston; "Stuùies 
of Elemental Iron, and its Modifications," 
by Prof. Henry 'V urtz; "N ew hon Dis- 
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ceUany of short articles of metallurgical in- 
terest. It is finely printed in large, clear 
type, on excellent paper, with ample mar- 
gins, presenting a most creditable appear- 

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"A New Type of Steam-Eugine."-Prof. 
R. II. Thurston r(',ld a paper at the Xnsh- 
yille meeting of the .American A8sodatioll 
on "A K ew Type of Steam-En
ine," a 
report of which we find in the AmC'J.ican 

fachl'J"c1" The author first gave a. 
history of the steam-engine from Hero's 
time; then he di
sed the modern type of 
steam-engine, pointing out its shortl'Qluings ; 
finally he proposed a new type, de:-,igned to 
prevent loss of heat-ener
y.' There are, he 
observed, only two possible methods of util- 
izing the full heat-energy: the first is hy 
enormous expansion, cooling the steam till 
it i::; all 
ondenseù into watcr and till aU 
the heat is even taken out of that water, 

] 16 


but this he shows to be impracticable; I cannqt be snrpaBfled are very restricted. bn- 
the other method . is to use part of the agine that one speaks ne
r a "!oòiú. plate, jlexible 
power of the enCTine to pump back the dis- enough n?t to lose any oJ the vzlJratwns p1'Odllc(d 
b ... by the V01.ce,. that this plate establishes and inter- 
charged steam, cO
1Ìalllmg as It docs some '1'upl8 successh'ely the communication with a bat- 
waler condensed from the steam, into the tery. You u10u[(l be able to hau at a distance 
boiler. This latter method is theoretically a!tOther plate W. hich . would éxecute at tlle same 
practical, and the purely mechanical diffi- tun
 the same nfJ'l'atwns. It is true tlwt the in- 
. If \ . tl . f .t'" r . tensztyof the sounds jJloductd u'ould be 'ul'J'iaUe 
eu ICS Ill. Ie '" ay 0 l:s rea IzatlOn are by at the point of depa'J'tu'J'e, whe'l'e ale plate i8 'Ci- 
no means msuperable. bmted by the voice, and constant at tlte lJoint of 
As the steam in the cy1inder of an en- a'/'rival, where it is vibrated by electricity. But 
gine expands, doin!J u'ork, part of it con- it is demonstrable that this would not alter 
d Th l .a- the sounds. . . . In any case it is impossible to 
euses. e (luerence between the heat- d e monstrate that th I t '. t .. 
f' e ec rlC ranSilllSSlOn of 
ene1'gy of the steam at the beginning of the SOUll
S is 
mp08sib]e. . . . An electric battep-, 
stroke, and that of the steam and water at two vlbratmg platc8, and a metaUic wire, will 
the end of the stroke, is equal to the heat. suffice." 
equivalent of the mechanical work done by 
the steam. The change of mechanical con- 
.ditión which the steam undergoes during 
the stroke-namely, its conversion into 
water-renders it possible that the mingled 
steam and water remaining in the cylinder 
at the end of the stroke may be forced 
back into the boiler with a less expenditure 
of mechanical energy than the steam gave 
out during the stroke. 

Thr Telel)hone alltid})ated.-.As is the 
case with all great inventions, the tele- 
phone is now said to be nothing new; its 
principle was known long ago, and even ex- 
emplified in practice. Many are the claim- 
ants of priority in solving the problem of 
the transmission of articulate sound to great 
, but we know of none whose case is 
stronger than that of" Monsieur Ch. B-," 
who appears to have solved the problem as 
early as 18:>7. In the Count du Moncel's 
"Exposé des Applications de l'Électricité," 
published twenty years ago, occurs the fol- 
lowing passage (translated in l\''alure): 
" After the marvelous telc!!raphs which are 
able to reproduce at a di8tance writing of this 
or that individual, and designs more or less com- 
plicated, it seemed impos8ible. 8aid 1\1. D-, 
to udvance further in the regions of the mar- 
velous. N everthelcs8, e8saying to do something 
more, I asl..ed, for example, if speech itself 
would not be capable of tran8mi8sion by elec- 
tricity; in a word, if one would not be able to 
speak at Yienna and be heard at Paris. The 
thin,!! is practicable. This is how: Sounds, it 
i8 known, are formpd by vibrations and carried 
to the ear by these same vibrations, which are 
reproduced by the intermediate media. But the 
inten!:lity of these vibrations diminishes very 
rapidly with the distance, from which it follow8, 
('ven in the employment of 8peaking-trumpet
tn 1)C8. and of atoustical horns, the limits which 

The Slaves of Ants.-The subjugation of 
other insects by various species of ants is 
a famiJiar fact of natural history; it is less 
usual to see two or more species thus sub- 
jugated. Prof. Leidy, in some remarks 
made at a meeting of the Academy of 
K atural Science of Philadelphia, recounts 
his observations on a colony of yellow ants 
(Formica Jlava), which had three different 
insects in their service, namely, a species 
of Aphis, a Coccus, and the larya of an in- 
sect, probably coleopterous. The aphide
he tells us, were kept in two separate herd
and these were separated from a herd of 
cocci. The larva was in the midst of one 
of the former herds. In another and larger 
colony of yellow ants there was a heed of 
aphides which occupied the under-part of 
one margin of the stone under which the 
ants had their nest; the surface occnpied 
by these aphiùes was a bout ten inches long 
and three-fourths of an inch broad. The 

ame colony also pOC;:5esscd a separate herd 
of cocci, closely crOlrded, and Occup}-in
most a square inch of space. ButlI aphides 
and cocci, with few exceptions, adhered to 
the under-surface of the stone, and were 
not attached to the roots. They appeared 
to be carefulIy attended by the ants, which 
surrounded them. The larva, too, was care- 
fully attended by the ants, "hich were fre- 
quently observed to stroke it with their 
antennæ. The aphides and cocci were an 
in good condition, but without yisible means 
of subsi8-tence, excepting the neighboring 
grass-roots partially extending into the 
earth beneath the stones, to which they 
probahly were at times transferred hy th


Obitnary.-'Ye have to record the death 
of the astronomer Leverrier, which took 
placc at Paris on September 23d. Leverrier 
"as born in 1811. Early in life he evinced 
great aptitude for chemical research, but 
his natural bent lay rather in the direction 
of the mathematical sciences. On b
appointed to a position in the Polytechnic 

chool, he devoted himself with great ardor 
to tbe study of the grcat problems of specu- 
lative astronomy, and soon earned high dis- 
tinction by sundry memoirs. He was elected 
mem bel' of the Paris Academy of Sciences 
in 1846, and during the same year he made 
the great astronomical discoycry of his life 
-that of the planet Neptune. In 1849 he 
entered political life as a deputy in the 
Legislative Assembly; under the Empire he 
was a senator, and for some time Inspector- 
General of Public Instruction. In 1853 he 
was appointed Director of the Paris Obser- 
vatory, and so continued till 1870, whcn be 
resigned. He was reappointed in 1872, and 
held tbe position till his death. That sad 
event was no douht hastened by the effect:; 
of mental mrerwork in his search for an 
intra-lIercurial planet. 

THE death is announced of J. P. Gassiot, 
F. R. 8., in the eightieth year of his age. 
)Ir. G;1
siot was a merchant of London, but 
de\oted his leisure to scientific research. 
In 1838 he was an active membcr of an 
dectrical society, and foJ' the remainder of 
his life devoted himself specially to the 
study of electrical phenomena. He was the 
author of several papers contributed to the 
"Philosophical Transactions" of the Royal 
Society of London. lIe was a munificent 
patron of science, and a helper of scientific 

Britislt 1ssociation PaI){'rs.-In his pres- 
idential adùress in Section D of the British 
Association, Dr. J. Gwyn J efft'eys vehe- 
mently attacked the doctrine of evolution, 
which he declared to be simply a "product 
of imagination. . . . I cannot," he said, 
" identify a single fo:pecies of the Cretaceous 
Mollusca as now living or recent. 
\ll of 
them are evidently tropical forms. This 
question of identity depend
, however, on 
the capability of hereditary persi:;:teuce 
which some 
pccies possess; amI althou


a certain degree of modification may be 
caused by an alteration of conditions in the 
course of incalculable ages, our knowledge 
is not sufficient to enable u
 to do more 
than vaguely speculate, and surely not to 
take for granted the transmutation of species. 
\\T e have no proof of anything of the kind. 
Deyolution .01' succession appears to be dle 
law of Xature; evolution (in its modern in- 
terpretation) may he regarded as the pro.1- 
uct of human imagination. I am not a be- 
liever in tbe fixity of species, nor in their 
periodical extinction and replacement by 
other specie::;. The notorious imperfection 
of the geological record ought to warn us 
against such hasty theorization. "
e can- 
not conceive the extent of this imperfection. 
Not merely are our means of geological in- 
formation restricted to tbose outer layers 
of the earth which are within our sight, 
but nearly three-fourths of its surface is in- 
accessible to us, so long as it is covered by 
the sea. 'Y cre this not thc case we might 
have some chance of di::icovering a few of 
the missing links which would connect the 
former with the existing fanna and flora. 
It is impossible eyen to guess ,,-bat strata 
underlie the bottom of the oce
n, or where 
the latter attained its present position rela- 
tiyC]y to that of the land. The materials of 
tbe sea-bed have been used over and over 
again in the formation of the earth's crust, 
and the future history of our globe will to 
the end of time repeat the past." 

hss A. ,Yo BUCKLAXD, in a paper on 
"The Stimulants of Ancient and 
Savages," said that the use of stimulants is 
almost universal. Among the lowest races 
the form of stimulant employed is now, 
as in ages past, SOlne sort of root or leaf 
chewed for its strcllgtbf'lling and invigorat- 
ing properties, sueh as the pitberry, recent- 
ly discover('fl in u
e among nationg in Cen- 
tral Australia, and the coca-leaf among the 
Indians of South .America; but no sooner 
diù the nations advance to the ap:ricuJtural 
e than they began to malíc fermented 
drinks from the roots of grains cultivated 
for food. Hence the beer of Eg-ypt, which 
prohably found its way with tl1e wheat and 
barley of that land to the Swi
s lake.dwell- 
in::rs, and over a great part of Europe, hav. 
ing been evidently known in Greece and 



Rome at a very early period. while a similar the shifting of the axis to take place near 
liquor' still forms the chief beverage of all this line. 
African nations, being now, as formerly in 
Egypt, ferm
nted by means of plants. In Simnltant'ons Contrast of Colors.-An 
China and Japan rice was and is uscù to incident in the life of Henry IV. of France 
make wine or beer instead of wheat or bar- finds its explanation in an experiment made 
ley or American maize. The sour milk or by Chevreu!. 'Vhi1e yet Prince of N' avarre, 
koumiss of the pastoral tribes ùf Central Henry IV. was playing dice with two conr- 
Asia, and the mead of the ancient Scandi- tiers a few days before the massacre of St.- 
naxians, both reappear among the Kaffirs Bartholomew's-day. They saw, or thought 
of South Africa. Palm-wine is used wher- they saw, on the dice spots of blood; and 
e,.er palms flourish, but wine of the juice the party broke up in alarm. The phenom- 
of the grape, although known in very ancient enon is explained by Chevreul by the l
times, seems to have been confined to the of simultaneous contrast of colors, and he 
civilized races of 'Vestern Asia and Egypt, illustrates this by experiment as follows: 
extending later to Greece and Rome. The Seat yoursJlf in a room so as to receive on 
multitude of wines described by Pliny were, the right side tbe sun's rays at an angle of 
however, in almo::;t all case::! flavored with 20 0 to 25 0 , the left eye being cloRed. On a 
herbs or garden-plants for medicinal pur- tahle covered with gray paper' and under 
poses. The conclusions to be draw
 from I diffuse light place two hen'::;-featbers, one 
the history of fermented beverages, as re- black and the other white, distant 0.6 
corded by travelers, are, that the earliest to 0.8 metre from the eye. After about 
stimulants were simply leaves and roots two minutes, with the right eye in the sun's 
chosen by animal instinct, chewed, and beams, the dark feather appears red and 
found by experience to produce exhilara- tbe white one emerald-green. After a few 
tion and strength. The art of distillation, seconds the black feather of red color 
though probably known early in the Chris- seems edged with green and tl1e wbite 
tian era, is comparatively modern, and was feather seems of a rosy color. K ow close 
certainly unknown to savage races until the right eye and open the left. The black 
U fire-water" was introduced, to their serious ff'ather will be black and the white one 
detriment, by Europeans. white. The effect is evidently due to inso- 
lation: the black feather appears red be- 
cause it reflects much less light than the 
white feather. From the law of simultane- 
ous contrast of colors, the insolated eye 
seeing the green by white light, the ùlack 
feather must appear of the complementary 
color of green, which is red. 

 a paper on the" Shifting of the Earth's 
Axis," )11'. A. 'V. "Taters pointed out how 
the unequal distribution of land and sea 
might be an agent for preventing the move- 
ments of elevation and depression of the 
land in one part of the globe balancing 
those in another, and also showed how simi- 
lar movements in various localities would I 
differently affect the pole. Any movement, 
such as submarine elevation, which dis- 
places water, would spread it over the 
oceanic al'ea; and the effect of this would, 
with th
 present configuration, be the same 
as if ahout one-twelfth of the weight had 
heen added in the northern hemisphere along 
east longitude 45 0 44', namely, in a line pass- 
ing by the entrance of the 'Yhite Sea, over 
the Cauca
us, and througb the middle of 
Madagascar. As every submarine mòve- 
ment would create a force acting in this 
direction, there seems reasonable 
for thinking that the tendency would be for 

Constitntion of the N'ebnlæ.-:Ur. E. J. 
Stone, in a paper read before the Royal So- 
ciety, London, attempts to reconcile Hug- 
gins's discovery ofbl'ight lines in the spectra 
of nebulæ with the old view that nebulæ are 
irresolvable stellar clusters. The sun, he 
remarks, is known to be surrounded by a 
gaseous envelope of very considerable ex- 
tent. SimiJar cnvelopes must surround the 
stars {!enerally. E3ch star, if isolated, 
would be surrounded with its own gaseous 
envelope. These gaseous envelopes might, 
in the case of a clùster, form over the 
whole, or a part, of the cluster a continuous 
mass of ga
. So long as such a cluster was 


within a certain distance from us, the ligbt 
from the stelJar masses would predominate 
on'r that of the gaseous envelope. The 
spectrum would, therefore, be an ordinary 
stellar spectrum. Suppose such a cluster 
to be removed farther and farther from us, 
the light from each star would be diminished 
in proportion of the inverse square of tbe 
distance; but such would Dot be the case 
with the light from the enveloping surface 
formed by the gaseous envelopes. The light 
from this envelope received on a slit in the fo- 
cus of an object-glass would be sensibly con- 
stant because the contributing area. would 
be increased in the same proportion that the 
light from each part is diminished. The 
result would be that, at some definite dis- 
tance, and all greater distances, the prepon- 
derating light received from such a cluster 
would be derived from the gaseous enve- 
lopes and not from the isolated stellar 
masses. The spectrum of the cluster 
would, therefore, become a linear one, 1ike 
that from the gaseous surroundings of our 
own sun. 


the power of flying because it does Dot pos- 
sess the necessary strength to be converted 
into muscular action, and that this strength 
returns to its system because in sugar it 
finds the necessary ,ital support." 

Singing - Flumes and Inaudible libra- 
tions.-" Singing-flames "'are known to be 
sensitive to the faintest sounùs, provided 
the rate of vibration of the latter is suffi- 
ciently high. But are they equally scn
ble to vibrations that are so rapid as to 
be inaudible? This questian has been 
studied by Prof. \V. F. Barrett, and the 
results of his experiments, as stated by 
him in a communication to J.Vature, will 
be read with intérest. Pro!: Barrett em- 
ployed a flame produced by coal-gas con- 
tained in a holder unùer a pl'essure of 
ten inches of water, find issuing fl'om a 
steatite jet ha'Ting a circular orifice of 0.04 
inch diameter; the height of the flame when 
undisturbed was just two feet, but it fell to 
seven inches under the feeblest hiss or the 
clink of two coins. On sounding the low- 
est note of a U Galton whistle," little effect 
Duration of tIIe Flight of Bees.-To de- was produced on the flame; a Shl'iU dog- 
termine the length of time that bees can con- whistle produced a slight forking, but that 
tinueto fly about, Dönhofftook some of those was all. Raising the pitch of the Galton 
insect:=; from a hive,just as they came out of whistle, the flame became more anù more 
the entt'ance-hole, and placed them under a agitated, until when Prof. Barrett had near- 
glass bell at a temperature of 66 0 Fabr. Iy reached the upper limit of audibility of 
First they ran hastily up and down the the left ear, and had gone quite beyond the 
siùes of the glass, and flew about in the limit of the right, the flame was still more 
jar. Their movements grew gradually slow- violently agitated. Raising the pitch still 
er, and after forty-five minutes they all sat higher, till he bad quite ceaf-;ed to hear any 
quietly togcther, or moved very slowly and sound, he was astonished to observe the 
clumsily, and were unable to fly. On being profound effect produced on the flame. ..U 
allowed to cm wI upon a pendl, and then every inaudible puff of the whistle it would 
thrown off, they fell ùown perpendicularly fall fully sixteen inches, and give its char- 
without moving their wings. On killing one acteristic roar, at the same time losing its 
or two, the boney-bags were found to be luminosity, anll, when viewed in a revolving 
empty. The author then fed the others mirror, presenting a multitude of ragged irn- 
with a sugar solution, and after three or a
es, with torn sides and flickf'ring tongues. 
four minutes threw some of them into the I Nor was this effect sensibly diminished by 
air. They were now able to use their wings I a distance of some twenty feet from the 
a little. A minute or two later they ap- flame; eve-n at fifty feet the effect was very 
peared to be as lively as ever. The author pronounced. 
remarks that if the temperature is under I 
66 0 Falu'. the bees lose t11e power of flying Fnnttions of tile Crfrbrllnm.-The re- 
eVf'll sponer, and recover it more slowly. searches and experiment
 of Flourens Imve 
\Yith higher temperatures the power re- been consider{'d conclusive as to the co- 
turns sooner. Dönhoff's concluto:ion from ordinative function of the cerebellum in 
these observations is that the bee "loses animal movements. That eminent physiol- 



ogist removed the cerebellum from pigeons 
in successive slices, and found that, on cut- 
ting away the superficial layers of the organ, 
there appeareù only a slight feebleness and 
want of harmony in the movements; but 
that when the deepest layers were removed 
the animal lost completely the power of 
,stanùing, walking, leaping, or flying. Y oli- 
tiOll and sensation l'emained; the power of 
executing movements remained; but the 
power of coördinating those movements 
into regular and combined actions was lost. 
Flourens's experiments have been again and 
agaill repeated, always with the same re- 
sults. But llOW the subject has been in- 
vestigated anew by Ovsiannikoff, whose 
conclu::;ion is that, even though the entire 
cerebellum be cut out, the faculty of coör- 
dillation still remains. In one of his ex- 
periment=, a raùbit rcm
lined alive during 
two \\ hole weeks after an the upper half of 
the cerebellum was cut out, nor did it lose 
its faculty of coürùinating its movements af- 
ter all the cerebellum was cut out until an 
effusion of blood produced this result. 

Apl)Caranre and Habits of the Andaman 
l:slanders.-The natives of the Andaman Isl- 
ands are df'scribed by Surgeon-Major Hod. 
del', of the British Ârmy, as not exactly pre- 
possessing in appearance, though not de- 
formed and hideous, as has been stated. 
In hei
ht t1H'Y vary from four feet nine 
inches to five feet one inch; they are ex- 
tremely Llack, more so than the Afdcan 
negro, and some of them have h a dull, 
leaden hue, like that of a black-leaded 
stove." They are .fond of dancing, have 
a strong sense of the ridiculous, are exceed- 
!'ly pas
ionate, are easily aroused by tri- 
ftC's, and then "their appearance becomes 
diaholica1." The men go entirely naked, 
and the women nearly so. They COTer their 
bodies with red earth, and, as ornaments, 
wear strings of their ancestors' bones round 
their neeks, or a skull slung in a basket 
over their shoulders. They are tattooed 
a11 over their bodies; their heads are shav- 
en, with the exception of a narrow streak 
from the crown to the nape of the neck. 
They rarely haTe eyebrows, beard, mus- 
tache, whisl{er
, or eyelashes. They are 
very fond of liquor and smoking; are 
short.lived and not healthy, not many pass- 

ing forty years of age. Their language 
consists of few words, harsh and explosive, 
and chiefly monosyllabic. Almo
t their 
only amusement is dancing to a monoto- 
nous chant and the mu:sic of a rough skin 
drum, played by stamping with the f('et.. 
Their courbhip and marriage usages are 
very simple. The male eanùidate for matri- 
mony cats a sort of ray-fish, '" hith gives 
him the appellation of U goo-ruo "-bachelor 
desirous of marrying. The malTiageable 
girls wear a certain kind of flower. The 
ceremony con
ists in the pair about to be 
married sitting down, apart from tbe other's, 
and staring at one anothel' in silence; tow- 
ard eTenink the girl's father or guardian 
joins the hands of the pair; they then re- 
tire, and live alone in the jungle for some 
days. The only manufactures of the island- 
ers are canoes, bows, 3.ITOWS, Epcars, and 
nEts. Of late years "homes" have been 
establi::-:hed for the Andamanese, consisting 
of large bamboo sheds, in "hich those who 
come in from the jungle put up, coming and 
going at will. They seem, however, to pre- 
fer the jungle, and the attempts made to 
cultivate their acquaintance do not appear 
to have been very successful. 

The Antient Ruins (}f ('oJorado.-A cor- 
respondent of the 'Yorcester Spy writes as 
follows of certain highly interesting dis- 
coveries recently made by the Geographical 
and Geological Survey of the Territories 
conducted by Dr. Hayden: 
" Prof. Hayden has given Southwestern 
Colorado a new interest, by discovering and 
describing the ancient ruins in that section 
and in Southeastern Utah. The ferHle val- 
ley of the Animas was ùem:ely inhabited and 
highly cultivated by an enlightened race of 
people centuries ago. The ruins of the 
houses, corral
, towns, fortifications, ditches, 
pottery-ware, dra" ings, non - interpretable 
writings, etc., show that mauy arts were 
culth-ated by theEe prehistoric people which 
are now entirely lost. Their houses were 
built of almost every kind of stone, from 
sman bowlders to the finest sandstone. 
" The finest of these ruin
, and the near- 
est perfect, are situated about thirty-five 
miles below Animas City, in a large Talley 
fift('cn miles l0I1g by seven wide, on the 
wcst side of the rh-cr. TIJi8 Talley has 


been covered with buildings of every size, 
the 1\\"0 largest being 300 by 6,000 feet, 
and about 300 feet apart. They are built 
of small blocks of sand
tone, laid in adobe 
mud, the out:õ;ide walls being four feet and 
the inside wans from a foot and a half to 
three feet thick. In the lower story are 
found port-holes a foot square. There are 
rooms now left, and walls for about four 
stories high arc still standing. About the 
second story, on the west side, there was 
once a balcony along the length of the 
building. No signs of a door are visible in 
the outer wans, and the ingress must have 
been from the top, in the inside there being 
passages from room to room. 
Iost of them 
are sman, from eight by ten to twelve by 
fourteen feet, the doors being two by four 
feet. The arcllf's over the doors and port- 
holes are made of small cedar poles two 
inches wide, placed aCl'oss, on which the 
masonry is placed. The sleepers support- 
ing the floors are of cedar, about eight 
inches thick, and from twenty to fifty feet 
long, and about three feet apart. A layer 
of small round poles was placed across 
the sleepers, then a layer of thinly-split 
cedar sticks, then about three inches of 
earth, then a layer of cedar-bark, then 
another layer of dirt, then a carpet of some 
kind of coarse grass. The rooms that have 
been protected from exposure are white- 
washeù, and the walls are ornamented with 
drawings and writings. In one of these 
rooms the impression of a hand dipped in 
whitewash, on a joist, is as plain as if it 
had been done only yesterday. In another 
room there are drawings of tarantulas, cen- 
tipedes, horses, and men. 
U In some of the rooms have been found 
human bones, bones of sheep, corn-cobs, 
goods, raw-hides, and all colors and varie- 
ties 'of pottery - ware. These two large 
buildings arc exactly the same in every re- 
spect. Portions of the buildings plainly 
show that they were destroyed by fire, the 
timbers being burned off and the roofs 
caved in, leaving the lower rooms entirely 
protected. The rock that these buildings 
were built of must have been brought a 
long way, as nothing to compare with it 
can be found within a radius of twenty 
miles. .An the timber used is cedar, and 
has been brought at least twenty-five miles. 
Old ditchc
 and roads are to be seen in 


every direction. The Xavajo Indians say, 
in regard to these ruins, that their fore- 
fathers came there five old men's ages ago 
(500 years), and that these ruins were here 
and the same then as now, and there is no 
record whatever of their origin." 

PoUt1tal Eronomy in Law-Srhcols.-:ll. 
"r addington, tbe French :llinister of l>ublic 
Instruction, has issued a dccree making the 
study of po1itical economy one of the sub- 
jects of examination for thc degree of licen- 
tiate in all tbe schools of law. The innova- 
tion does not seem to give unmixed satis- 
faction to the French lawyers, who have at 
all times treated this science with contempt. 
The basis of the teaching of law, says their 
organ, i::; the text of the law; I)olit:cal 
economy is no branch of the law-it has 
no texts-it is not positive science-and i3 
at most a conjectural art, or kind of litera- 
ture, less amusing than other:); and to re- 
quire that men desiring to bccome magis- 
trates and advocates should pa:,s au exam- 
ination in the tbeories of )'Ialthus, Aùam 
Smith, and Say, is absurd. The claims of 
economic science will, of course, find plenty 
of defenders; and indeed it would appear, 
in view of the complications and contentions 
which have arisen from the pending nego- 
tiation of a commercial treaty between 
France and England, that it might be well 
to have a knowledge of economic principles 
made imperative somewhere. 

A New RemeJy for 'Wakefnlncss.-To 
those whose brains will Jlot subside when 
the time for rest has arrived, Dr. John L. 
Cook, of Henderson, Kentucky, proposes a 
very simple method of securing prompt and 
refreshing sleep without the aid of drug
'Vhen the mind is active, the circulation in 
the brain is correspomlinpJy actiyc; we 
breathe more freql1ently, and the movements 
of the heart arc more rapid and vigorous. 
On the other hand, when the mind is at rest, 
as in healthy sleep, the cireulation in the 
brain is notably dimini
hcd, the heart-beats 
are less rapid and forcible, mid the hreath- 
ing is perceptibly slower. In the wakeful 
state the mind, as a rule, is intt'nscly occu- 
pied, whence. we may infcr an increased 
amount of blood in the brain. Dr. Cook's 
tion is to withòraw a portion of this 
from the head, or lower the hrain-circula- 



tion, by taking deep and slow inspirations- 
say twelve or fifteen a minute. By this 
means the action of the heart will become 
slower and feebler, less blood is thrown into 
the brain, and yel'y soon a quiet feeling, 
ending in sleep, is induced. As by a slight 
effort of the will anyone may try this, we 
leave the question of its value to the test 
of actual experiment. 

A New OJ)tital Experiment.-:llr. Wil- 
liam Terrill offers in J..Yature a new lecture- 
experiment for proying the compound na- 
ture of white light. This method is to ar- 
range seven lantems so as to project their 
several circles of light side by side on a 
wbite screen, then to color each circle by 
liùes of glass stained to imi- 
tate the seven colors of the spectrum (the 
proper intensity of color being found by 
trial); in this way are produced seven cir. 
cles on the screen, colored from red to vio. 
let, and arranged 
iùe by side. Then by 
turning the se,'eral lanterns, so that the pro. 
jected circles exactly overlap each other, 
one circle of white light is obtained, prov. 
ing that tbe seven colors together make 
white light. The same effect can be pro. 
duced "ith five colors only, if properly se. 
lected; and even two, the ordinary coba1t- 
blue and deep orang<', will nearly do. If 
these two be made to partially overlap, the 
effect is very striking. 

Dalliuger's Stndies of lUillnte Animal 
IOJ'ms.-The Rev. ,Yo H. DaUinger, \\ hose 
resea-rches into the origin and development 
of minute life-forms have earned for him a 
distinguished plac<, in the world of science, 
in a communication to the Royal Institution 
of Great Britain, p-iyes a brief historical 
sketch of his labors in this field. Ten 
years ago )11'. Dallinger determined to work 
out, by actual microscopic observation, the 
life-history of some of the lowly and minute 
organisms which occur in putrid infusions. 
After four years of preparation, he com. 
meneed his work in conjunction with Dr. 
Drysdale, the plan nceding two observers. 
Each set of observations was made con- 
tinuous, 80 that nothing should have to 
be inferred. Y cry high pow-ers were em- 
ployed, and the lm'ge:;.t adult objects ex- 
amined were Tõ
ïõ of an inch, the smuJIest 

-O' Six forms altogether were selected, 
and their whole history was worked out. 
At first it was supposed that reproduction 
by fission was tùe usual method, but pro- 
longed research shon eù tbat spores were 
produced. These were FO small that a 
magnifJing power of 5,000 diameters was 
needed to see them as they began to grow. 
The glairy fluid from which they developed 

eemed at first homogeneous, and it was 
only when growth set in that the spores 
became visible. All tbat could be learned 
about the origin of the glairy fluid was, t1:
a monad larger than usual, and with a gran- 
ulated a
l)ect towa
d the fla
enate end, 
would seIze on one III the orùmary condi- 
tion; the two would swim about together till 
the larger absorbed the smaller, and the two 
were fused together. A motionless spheroid- 
al glossy speck was then all that could be 
seen. This speck was found to be a sac, 
and, after remaining still from ten to thirty- 
six hours, it burst, and the glairy fluid 
flowed out. Tbe young spores that came 
into view in this were watched through to 
the adult condition. Bearing on the sub. 
ject of spontaneous generation, tllis fact 
was learned, that, while a temperature of 
140 0 Fahr. was sufficient to cause the death 
of adults, the spores were able to grow even 
after having been heated to 300 0 Fabr. for 
ten minutes. That there is no such tbing 
as spontaneous generation of monads seems 
to Mr. DaUin
er quite clear; and he is 
isfied that, when bacteria are studied after 
the same manner, the same law will be 
found to hold good with theIù. 

Inflnenre of the Environment.-As a 
striking instance of the tran
formation ef- 
fected in a race by changed conùitions of 
life, Das Ausland quotes, from Kbanikoff'to: 
":Mcmoir on the Ethnography of Persia," 
some observations on a colony of 'Yürtem. 
bergers which in 1816 settled in the trans- 
Caucasus country, near Tiflis. The original 
colonists, we are informed, were" singularly 
ugl}'," with broað, square countenances, 
blond or red hair, and blue eJe
. The sec- 
ond generation showed some improvement; 
black hair and black eyes were no longer 
rare. The third generation was so entirely 
altered that their 'Vürtemberg de
cent was 
no longer visible, for now black hair and 


black eyes were the rule, the face had 
gained in length, and the bodily habit, 
while nothing was lost in point of stature, 
was more slender and graceful. Äs the 
chastity of the women is not to be disputed, 
and as the ('oloni
ts intermarry only among 
them::;elves-Khanikoff found only one case 
of a 'Vürtemberger marrying a Georgian 
woman-the change in the race-characters 
can be attributed only to the influence of 

Extirpation of Injurious Inseds.-A 
special meeting of the London Society of 
Arts was held a few weeks ago, to discuss 
ures for the extirpation of injurious 
insect::;. The paper for the occasion was 
by Andrew 
lurray, F. L. S., who advocated 
government interference as being indispen- 
sably necessary in the war against insect 
pests. He spoke of three principal modes 
of counteracting the ravages of insects, the 
first being county or district rotation of 
Iost vegetable-feeding insects 
subsist on one lrind of plant, as wheat, rye, 
potatoes, etc., and, if we take away their 
special pabulum, the race dies out. This 
we do by rotation of crops. The next 
means of extirpation recommended by Mr. 
Murray was burning the nidus in which 
the insect, in whatever stage, passes tlle 
winter; or u
ing some substance, as Paris- 
green, hellebore, etc. There remains the 
last refuge of all invaded countries, namely, 
destroying the resources of the country be- 
fore the illvadel's, so that they may perish 
for the want of food. This, :Mr. Murray 
said, can rarely be necessary, but it would 
be, he thought, the proper course to foUow, 
should the Colorado beetle gain a footing 
in England. The larvæ of the beetle would 
probably first appear in some potato-field 
near Cork, or Londonderry, Liverpool, or 
Glasgow; the instant thi5! is perceived, the 
vines of the potatoes should be cut to tbe 
ground, and Paris-green scattered over the 

Rerent ObsN'vntion
 of Stòmadl-Dlgrs- 
tion.-..:\. man in Paris, having an imperme- 
able stricture of the gullet, was sayed, by 
the operation of gastrotomy, from death by 
starvation. The patient's gullet is so com- 
pletdy blocked that when a small quantity 

12 3 

of pota
sium ferrocyanide in solution is 
swallowed, no trace of the f:alt can be de- 
tected in the stomach; hence the gastric 
juice IS aùsolutely free from any admixture 
of saliva. The fooù is reduceù to a pulp 
and injected by a s)Tinge into the artificial 
opening in the abdominal wall; it remains 
in the stomach for three or four hours; when 
milk is introduced, it disappears in from one 
and a half to two bours. The chyme docs not 
pass gradually, as is commonly su p posed, into 
the small intestine: during the first three 
hours after its introduction into the stomach 
its volumt does not appear to dimiDi
h; then 
within about fifteen minutes, the entire mass 
is driven through the pyloric orifice. ...\.1 
the end of four hours the stomach is near- 
ly always empty, but hunger does not begin 
to be felt tm two hours later. The mean 
acidity of the gastric juice, whether pure 
or mixed with food, is equivalent to about 
1. 7 grain of hydrochloric acid per 1,000, 
never falling below 0.5, or rising above 3.2 
grammes. The quantity of liquid present 
does not seem to exert any influence on the 
degree of its acidity, which is augmented 
by wine and alcohol, and less
med by cal1e- 
sugar. The gastric jui,ee is more acid while 
digestion is going on than during the inter- 
,"als of the process; its acidity seems always 
to be increased as digestion is drawing to a 

Contents of a l"tah IUonnd.-In the vi- 
cinity of Payson, "Gtab Territory, are six 
mounds, covering a total area of about 
twenty acres of ground. One of these 
moumls was opened last year, alld the dis- 
coverif's then made are recorded in a letter 
published in the EU1'el
 (Nevada) Sentinel. 
First a skeleton of a man was found, which 
measured six feet six ir.cheR in length. 
In the right hand was a llUge iron weapon, 
but this crumbled to pieces in handling. 
There was alRo found a stone pipe, the stem 
of which was inserted between the teeth of 
the skeleton. Near hy was found another 
skeleton, not quite so large, supposed to be 
that of a woman. "Close b)"," writes the 
correspondent. of the Bentiud, "the floor 
was covered with a hard cement, to all ap- 
pearances a part of the solid rock, which, 
after patient labor and e:xhausti,e work, we 
sun'eeded in penetrating, and found it was 



but the coruer of a box similarly construct- 
eù, in which we found about thl'ee pints 
of wheat-kernels, most of which ùissolyed 
when brought in contact with the light and 
air. A few of the kernels founù in the cen- 
(re of the heap looked bright, and retained 
their freshness on being exposed. These 
were carefuUy preserved, and last spring 
planted and grew nicely, though thè field-in- 
sects seemed determined to devour it. 'Ye 
raised four and a balfpounds of heads from 
these fe\," grains. The wheat is unlike any 
other raised in this country, and produces 
a large yield. It is of the club varietJ- 
the heads are very long, and hold yery 
large grains. . . . "
e find houses in all the 
mounds," he continues, " tbe rooms of which 
are as perfect as the day they were built. 
All tbe apartments are nicely plastered, 
some in white, others in a red COlO1'; crock- 
ery-ware, cooking-utf'nsi1s, vases-many of 
a pattern similar to the pre::;ent age-are 
also found. rpon one large stone jug or 
"'ase can be traced a perfect delineation of 
the mountains near here for a distance of 
twenty miles. "r e have found several miH- 
stones, used in grinding corn, and plenty of 
charred corn-cobs, with kernels not unlike 
what we know as yellow dent-corn. 'Ve 
judge from our observations tbat these an- 
cient dwellers of our country followed agri- 
culture for a livelihood, and had many of 
the arts and sciences known to us, as we 
found moulds made of clay for the casting 
of different implements, needles made of 
deer-borns, and lasts made of stone, and 
which were in good shape. 'Ve also find 
many trinkets, snch as white stone beads 
and marbles; also small squares of polished 
stones, resembling dominos." 

Contact with water at a high temperature, 
and under great pressure, brought about by 
the upheayal or disruption of any of the 
overlying sedimentary strata, "ould result 
in the formation of metal1ic oxidc
 and sat- 
urated hydro-carbons. The latter, permeat- 
ing the porous sandstones of higher levels, 
condense there, or, by undergüing further 
change, become the marsh-gas of the" gas- 
wells," or are conveIted into unsaturated 
hydro-carbons. The invariable aSEociation 
of salt-water with mineral oil is not witl:out 
its bearing on this interesting question. .If 
the view recently advanced by Steenstrup 
that the c1frious metallic masses db:covered 
by Nordenskjöld in Greenland, and generaì1y 
held to be meteoric iroll, be correct, and they 
are erupted matter and not of cosmical ori. 
gin, their composition, which analysis has 
shown to be in a considerable degree carbide 
of iron, approaches nearly that of the ma- 
terial assumed by Mendelejeff as the source 
of the oil. 

A Low 31ammaIian Brain.-At a meeting 
of the American Philosophical Society, as we 
learn from The American .1..Yalu}"alist, Prof. 
Cope exhibited a cast of the brain-cavity of 
a species of Coryphodon from K ew )Iexico. 
This, according to Prof. Cope, is the lowest 
and most reptilian type of mammalian brain 
so far discovered, inasmuch a
 the diameter 
of the hemispheres does not exceed that of 
the medulla, which itself is as wide as the 
cerebellum. The latter is small and flat. 
The middle brain is the largest di\-bion, 
much exceeding the hemispheres in si7e, 
being especially protuberant laterally. The 
hemispheres contract anteriorly into the very 
stout peduncles of the olfactory lobe
These c011tinue undivided to an unusual 
The Origin of JIineral OHs.-Mendelejeff, length, and terminate in a large bulbus, 
in a communication to the Russian Chem- which is at first grooved above anù then 
ical Society, questions the current view as bifurcates at the extremity. TIJC length of 
to the origin of mineral oils, namely, that the hemispheres is ï1r that of the cranium', 
they are tbe products of the decomposition and their united bulk ';y that of the hemi- 
of the fossil remains of organisms, and pro- spheres of a tapir of the s
me size. Their 
poses a theory of his own. He calls atten- surface is not convoluted, and there is no 
tion to the pos
ibility of the interior of our I trace of a Sylvian fissure. The region of 
globe containing metallic masses of vast ex- the pons Yaro1ii is very wide and exhibits a 
tent. If iron be the prevailing metal, and continuation of the anterior pyramids. The 
if it occur in combination with cal'bon, we large size of the middle brain and olfactory 
bave the material from which we can con- lobes gives the brain as much the appear- 
ccive the mineral oils to bave been deriyed. ance of that of 3. lizard as of a mammal. 


The Late Eruption of 
Ianna Loa.-The 
Rev. Titus Coan gives, in the American Jour- 
nal of Science, a vivid d
scription of the 
latest eruption of 
fokua-\Veo.weo, the ter- 
minal crater of :Mauna Loa, Hawaii. The 
eruption commenced between nine and tcn 
in the evening of February 14, 1871, with 
great Rplendor. The summit of the moun- 
tain appeared as though melted, and the 
heavens seemeù on fire. Vast masses of 
illumined steam, like columns of flaming 
gas, were shot upward to a height of 14,000 
to 11,000 feet, and then spread out into a 
great fiery cloud. This continued through 
the night. In the morning the mountain 
was hidden by thick clouds, and the only 
symptoms of volcanic action were an occa- 
sional thud and a smoky atmosphere. Mo- 
kua-weo-weo had enteroo into a state of in- 
activity, but soon" a remarkable bubb1ing 
was seen in the sea about three miles south 
of Kealakekua, and a mile from the shore. 
Approaching the boiling pot, it was fOil nd 
emitting steam, and throwing up pumice 
and light scoria. This boiling," continues 
Mr. Coan, whose communication is datcd 
Hilo, :March 11th, "was active whcn we 
last heard. It is in deep water. On the 
i::;land new fissures have becn opened in the 
palwilwi, which extend up to the higher 
lands, indicating the course of a subterra- 
nean lava-stream, that terminated in a sub- 
marine eruption-a new feature in our mod- 
ern volcanic phenomena. About the time 
of this eruption beneath the sea, a tidal or 
earthquake wave of considerable force was 
observcd along the coast of Kona." 

Extraordinary Uevelopmrnt of the Sense 
of Smell.-Dr. 
Jaudsley, in his" Physiology 
of Mind," noticed el
ewhere, speaking of 
the loss of one sense being followed by a 
notable increase in the function
 of those 
which remain, in consequence of the great- 
er atte.ç.tion given to them, cites the foHow- 
 instances as related by Dr. Howe in the 
U ,Forty-third Report of the Massachusetts 
Asylum for the Blind: " Julia Brace, a dcaf 
and blind mute, a pupil of the .American 
Asylum, had a fine physical organization 
awl highly-nervous temperament. In her 
s and stillness her main occup:ltion 
was thé exercise of her remaining senses 
of smell, touch, and taste, so that through 

12 5 

them she might get knowledge of an that 
was going on around her. SmeH, however, 
seemed to be the sense on which she most 
relied. She smelled at everything which 
she could bring within range of the scnse; 
and she came to perceive odors utterly in- 
sensible to other persons. 'Yhen she met 
a person whom she had met. before she in- 
stantly recognized him by the smell of his 
hand or glove. If it were a stranger she 
smelled his hand, and the impression was 
so strong that she coulù recognize him long 
after by again smelling his han d, or evcn 
his glove, if just taken off. She knew all 
her acquaintances by the oùor of their 
hands. She was employed in sorting the 
clothes of the pupils aftcr they came from 
the wash, and could di:3tingui
h those of 
each friend. If half a dozen strangers 
should throw each one his glove into a 
hat, and they were shaken up, she would 
take one glove, smell it, then smcll the 
hand of each person, and unerringly assign 
. each glove to i
::; ownel'. If among the vis- 
itors there were a brother and si:::ter, she 
could pick out the gloves by a similarity of 
smell, but could not distinguish the one 
from the other. This case furnishes a 
strong argument in support of the conject- 
ure that a dog removed to a distant place 
finds its way home by following backward 
a train of smells which he has experienccd. 

1'1r. Boy(l Daw-kius on 
Ins('nm Ref,)J'm. 
-'V riting, in .1Yalltre, of the need of muse- 
um reform, Mr. Boyd Dawkins r()cogni7es 
the existence of a "collecting instinct "-a. 
desire to accumulate whatcver stl'ilws the 
fancy-and this in
tinct he dcclare's to be 
almost univer::;al among mankincI, whatevcr 
their stage of intellectual developmC'nt. The 
colJections which result from this instinct 
bcar the stamp of the individual who makes 
them. Tlwy are "museum units" which, 
like molecules, have a tendency to coalesce 
into bodies of greater or Jess size, and thus 
constitute museum
. The organi7ation of 
the latter is of high or low type, ;c('ording 
as the units keep or 10!'e the !'tamp of the 
individual, and ha"'e been moulfled into one 
living whole, or are dissociate'). They are 
highly organized and valuable if the part
are duly suhorrlinated to each other and 
brought into a 1i\"ing' rclation
hip; tl1C'Y are 



Jowly organized and comparatively worth- 
less if they remain as mere assemblages of 
units placed side by side without organic 
connection and witl10ut a common lifc. .Mr. 
Boyd Dawkins regard
 most of the provin- 
cial museums in England as belonging to 
this lower type. His description of one or 
two of these collections is amusing enough, 
and worthy of being quoted entire; perhaps 
it will apply to some lauded collections to 
be found on this side of the Atlantic. "In 
one instance which occurs to met writes 
Mr. Dawkins, "you see a huge plaster-cast 
of a heathcn divinity surrounded by fossils, 
stuffed crocodiles, minerals, and models of 
various articles, such as Chinese junks. In 
another, a museum unit takes the form of a 
glass case containing a fragment of a human 
skull and a piece of oat-cake, labeled' frag- 
ment of human skull very much like a piece 
of oat-cake.' In a third wax models are ex- 
hibited of a pound weight of veal, pork, 
and mutton-chops, codfish, turnips, potatoes, 
carrots, and parsnips, which must have cost 
the value of the originnls many times ovcr, 
with labels explaining their chemical consti- 
tution, and how much flcsh and fat they 
will make." :Museums of this low type 
" constitute a serious blot on our education- 
al system, since they are worse than uscless 
for purposes of teaching." 

Size of l1Ieditinal Doses.-One of the 
papers read at the last meeting of the 
American J[edical Association was on " The 
Effects of Remedies in Small Doscs." The 
author of this paper, Dr. John :Morris, held 
that-I. The true physiological effect of 
remedies might best be ohtained by the ad- 
ministration of smaU doses freque
tly rc- 
peatcd; 2. That medicines thu
 given are 
cumulative in their operation; 3. That the 
effect of remedies is greatly increased by 
combination, the manner of preparation, 
time and mode of administration, etc.; 4. 
That large rloses of medicine frequënt1y act 
as irritants; that they produce an abnormal 
state of tòe blood, as was evidenced by such 
conditions as narcotism, alcoholism, iodism, 
ergotism, bromidism, etc.; 5. That more 
special attention should be p:iven at the 
bedside to the influence of remedial agents, 
to the end that greater certainty may be 
attained in the prescriptions. 

Denationalizing Sti('I1('('.-Sir C. "
Thomson having called to his assistance, in 
working up tbe Challcnger collections, a few 
foreign naturalists of eminence, Dr. P. Mar- 
tin Duncan, President of the 
ciety, gives vent to bis" feel:ngs of disap- 
pointmcnt" in a lettcr to Sir 'V yvilIe, anù 
asserts that U a very large section" of Briti
naturalists are in like manner pained by the 
way in which English workers have been 
passed over. Sir "TJ'dlIe Thomson makes 
a dignified reply, in which he states t]:at his 
enùeavor had been to selcct first those who 
were generally regarded as authorities in 
special branches; and, second, those who 
could do trte work assigned them within the 
allotted time. "7here Englh:hmen fulfilled 
these conditions, Engli::;lllnen were chosen, 
because in that way a good deal of l'i:-,k was 
avoided, ill sending portions of the collec- 
tions abroad. "Except for this considera- 
tion" (i. e., that of avoiding risk of losing 
collections), writes Sir "... )"viJle, "I confess 
I saw and see no objection, but rather the 
revcrse, to making a great work of this 
kind somewhat more catholic." Having 
thus mildly rebuked the rather despicable 
nationalism of Dr. Duncan, Sir 'Yyville gives 
a list of the naturalií'ts employed in the 
work. It contains twenty-two names, all 
of them names of Englishmen, with six ex- 
ceptions. He then begs the pardon of the 
Englishmen (if such there be) more eminent 
than Haeckel, A. Agassiz, Oscar Schmidt, 
Lyman, Gunther, anù Claus, in their respec- 
tivc specialties of Radiolarian
, Echinoidea, 
Sponges, Ophiuridea, Fishes, and Crustacea, 
but whom he has overlooked in favor of 
these foreigners. K otice has been taken 
of Dr. Duncan's letter by some of the most 
eminent scientific men in England, and a 
manifcsto has been published deprecating 
national jcalousies in science. This paper 
has received tbe signatures of Sir J. D. 
Hooker, Prof. Huxley, Dr. ,Yo B. Carpenter, 
:Mr. Darwin, Yr. S1. George 
Iivart, and mßny 
ether representative scientific mcn. l!t
{w.e, in giving an account of this very un- 
pleasant affair, calls attention to thc catholiç 
spirit manifested by thc directors of the 
t'"nited States Gulf Stream Expedition, who 
tributed their materials for dcscription 
among sixtcen naturalists, of whom only 
four were .AmericausA 



IT has been found by Lechartier and 
Bellamy that zinc is constantly present in 
appreciable quantities in the liver of the 
ub.iect and of many lower animals. 
It al
o 0
CUr8 in hen's-e
gs, in wheat, bar- 
ley, and other grains. These facts are of 
interest for forensic medicine. 
IT i;:; to he hoped that the fonowing lu- 
cid "dil'ections for the formation of the 
letter n" are not a fair sample of the kind 
of in5truction 
iven in public schools 
th roughout the United States: "The letter n 
is one space in height, three spaces in 
width; commence on the ruled line with a 
left curve, ascending one space, joined by 
an upper turn to a slunting straight line, 
descending to the ruled line joined angu- 
larly to a left cunTe, ascending one space, 
. joined by an upper turn to a slanting line, 
descending to the rule joined by a base, 
turn to a right curve ascending one space." 
LAXD that has been flooded by the sea 
is genemlly barren for years afterward. 
AccordinO' to a German cbemist the cause 
of thi
rrenness is the presence of an 
excess of chlorine salts; snch land bas a 
tendency to remain d,unp, and there is a 
formation üf ferrous sulphate, which is 
highly injurious to plants. The land should 
be drained as quickly as possible, sown with 
grass or clover, and allowed to rest. 
La ....Vàtw'e cites the great age of an 
e-tree in the gardens of th
Pitlace as an illustration of the longevity of 
that species of plants. This ancient tree, 
known a
 the" Gmnd.Connétable de Fran- 
çois 1.," and al30 as the" Grand-Bourbon," 
has now stood more than four hundred and 
fifty years. It is sprung from some seed 
of the bitter-orange sown in a plant-pot, 
at th-J beginuing of the fifteenth century 
by meanor of Castile, wife of Charles IlL, 
King of 
 avarre. Several plants were 
prod.uced f)'om the same lot of seeds, and 
they were all kept in one box at Pampe- 
luna till 14!)9. In 168-1, more than two 
hundre.l years after being first grown from 
the seed, thest' orang-e-tL'ees were taken to 
V ers
s. The" GI'and-Connétable" is 
in all pI'obability the olde
t orange-tree in 
e.:.::istence; it is still in a ver.v hC'althy state, 
and does not appear to suffer from tbe ef- 
fects of age. 

TIlE coal of the Placer 
Iountains coal. 
mines in Arizona Territory possesses, ae- 
cording to Pwf. Raymond, the hardnc:;:s, 
specific gravity, fixed earhon, and volatile 
matter, of anthracite; it ignites with diffi- 
culty, but burn::; with intense heat. The 
supply is declared to be "inExhaustible." 

12 7 

PONDEKT of the Bulletin of tlle 
Nuttall Ornithological Club llárrates in that 
journal an instance of the persistency of a 
house-wren in nest-building. The nozzle of 
a pump in daily u::;e was repeatedly found to 
be ob
tructed with sticks, which on investi- 
gation pl'Oved to be nest-building material 
taken in by a wren. One morning the hiI'd 
was allowed to carry Olí its work for two 
hours, and then he had filled the pump 80 
full tbat water could not be obtained until 
a part of the stickS' had been removed. The 
nest was three times destroyed before the 
bird abandoned his work. 

THE belief that fish is speeialJy adapted 
to feed the brain, and that fish-eaters are 
therefore more intellectual than the avera
does not find much favor with Dr. Beard. 
He says that this" delusion i:; so utterly op- 
posed to chemistry, to physiology, to history, 
and to common observation, that it is very 
naturally almost universalJy ac
epted by the 
American people. It was started," he adds, 
" by the late Prof. Agassiz, who impul:"iveJy, 
and without previous consideration, appar- 
ently, as was his wont at times, made a. 
statement to that effect before a committee 
on fisheries of the Massachusetts Legisla- 
ture. The statement was so novel, f:O one- 
sided, and so untrue, that it spread like the 
blue-glass delusion, and has become the ac- 
cepted creed of the nation." 
ON the question whether hirds hiber- 
nate, we have received from 
Ir. L. S. Ab- 
bott, of Reading, :Michigan, a communication 
in which he states an observation made by 
himself, which goes to show that at least 
some birds do hibernate. 'Vhile Ii ving in the 
backwoods of Ohio, our correspondent often 
noticed the swallows toward evening cir- 
cling around the top of a sycamore-tree, in 
the hollow of which they would f:oon dis- 
appear. To determine whether the lJirds 
remained within the tree during the winter, 
Mr. Abbott had the tree cut do,,
ome time 
after the beginning of the cold season. The 
swallows were found within, clin
ing to the 
shell of the tree, stiff, motionless, and to all 
appearance in a state of su
pended anima- 
tion. The tree was hollow from the p:round 
up, and the swallows were attached to the 
shell along its whole length. 
tance of heredity is re- 
corded in a note from M. Martinet to the 
Paris Academy of S('ience
. In] R71 several 
chickens on a farm held bv the author' were 
affected with polydaetyJisn;, Iw.ving a super- 
l1Umerary cIa w. Thi
 lwd been transmitted 
to them" bv a fi,'e-l'Lnved cock rai
ed on 
the same farm a year or two before. The 
t,ype was prop3g
t('d rapidly until in 1873 
an epidemic ravaged t1w pon1tr
'ard. At 
present, without any 
election, thi
is very numerous; it has been propagated 



among neighboring farms through the ex- 
change of eggs by tbe farmers; if nothing 
interrupts it::; progressive increase, it prom- 
ises ere long to be predominant. The pecu- 
liarity was not so perfect at first as it is 
now; the moùification has been going on 
A SQUARE metre of the wall of a surgi- 
cal ward in the Paris Ho:;pitalla Pitié was 
wa::;hed-an operation that had not been 
performed during two years previously- 
and the liquill wrung out of the sponge was 
immediately examined. It contained micro- 
cocci in abundance, some micro-bacteria, 
epithelial cell:;, pus-gJobules, and ovoid bod- 
ies of unknown nature. The sponge used 
was new, and had been wa::;hed in distilled 
ST HAEBERLEIX, to whom the world 
of science is indeùted for the discon'ry of 
the first Archæopteryx, has now discovered 
another and more perfect specimen of the 
me curious reptiI8-like bird. As we learn 
fwm Die .1Yatw', the new Arehæopteryx 
has a head, which was wanting in the first 
individual discovered. Hence the hitherto 
undecided point whetlleI' the animal had 
the head of a bird or of a reptile can now 
oe determined. 

A NORWEGIAN engineer, }feinerk, has 
invented an ice-breaker for keeping far 
northern harbors open through the winter. 
The machine, as briefly de:o:cribed in the 
J/onite1l1' lndustriel Belge, is in form Jike a 
ploughshare, and is driven by two engines. 
Two centrifugal pumps throw a stream of 
water on the fragments of ice as they re- 
treat behiml the Ye5f'el, and drive them back 
into the channel made by the plough. In 

ummeI' the plough may be converted into 
a powerful dredge. 
Ix a case of poisonin
 by colored stock- 
s which is recorded in the Lancet, the 
t suffered a 
eyere itching of the feet 
reat pain, "like penknives darting 
into the feet and legs." The cuticle was 
raised in several places on the soles and 
sides of the feet, and there was a discharge 
of fetill pu
. Chemical analysis proverl that 
the stockin
s worn hy the patient had been 
colored with coralline, which is known to 
produce poisonous effects 011 the skin. 
THE following" death-notice" is trans- 
lated 1iterally from a Zurich newspaper: 
"I communicate to all mv friends and 
acquaintances the 
ad news that at 3 P. M. 
to-morrow I shaH incinerate, accordin
all the ru1f'8 of art, my late mother-in-law, 
who has fallf'n a
lpep with f..'lith in her Lord. 
The funeral-urn will be placed near the fur- 
" The profoundly afflicted f:on-in-law, 
"ZL'"RICII, .A If[Jltst 3d." 

A NEW malady of the grape-vine has 
made its appearance in Switzedand, where 
it has already done considerable damage in 
the "Vineyards. It is known as blanc de III 

Iigne, or white-sickness of the vine, and is 
cansed by tbe development of a mycelium 
which overspreads every part of the di
eased vine. Heccnt researches, Eays La 
jl,TatuJ'e, show that the cause of this infec- 
tion re
ides in the props used for support- 
ing the vines; the germs of the parasite 
find a shelter in the cl'aC'ks of the wood. 
They may be destroyed ùy saturating the 
props with a solution of copper sulphate. 
Ix presenting to 
Ir. ""alter "r eldon the 
Lavoisier mrdal of the French Society tor 
encouraging National Indu
try, Prof. Lamy 
stated that;, at the date of the introduction 
of Mr. 'Yeldon's invention sen'n or eight 
years ago, the total bleaching-pm, del' made 
in the world was only 55,000 tons per an- 
num, whereas now it is over 150,OOU tons; 
and of this fully 90 per cent. is made by 
the \Veldon process. By this process ever)? 
sheet of white paper and eyery yard of calico 

ade in the world have been cbeapenc-ù. 
TnE city of Dunkirk, New Y ork, f10
es a 
licroscopi('al Society wbich, with 
mall membership and very slender }'e- 
sources, has already earned a name in the 
world of science. At a meeting of this so- 
ciety held in the early part of f:ummer, Dr. 
George E. Blackham and Dr. C. P. 
were reëlected re
pcctiyely president anù 
secretary of the society. 
THE gorilla of the Berlin Aquarium is 
now at the ,y estmiIl
ter Aquarium, Lon- 
don, H on a yisit." His face is ùy Mr. 
Buckland prmlOunced to oe very human, 
but as black flS tOOIlY; the no
e is snub, 
the lips thick and beayy. During slepp, 
as we are informed by )11'. Buckland, "a 
pleasant E\mile every };OW and then Jights 
up the countenance" of the animal. 
PROF. P ARLATORE, the eminent botanist, 
and for some time Director of the :Museum 
of .Katural History at Florence, died sud- 
denly on SundaJ, September Vth. 
EW use has been found for d)'namite, 
in the sIaug-hter-house. Experiments made 
at DudltY, En
land, show that a small quan- 
tity of dynamite-a thimhleful-placed on 
the forehead of an animal and exploded, in- 
stantly causes death. In one experiment, 
two large horses anù a donkey, unfit for 
work" were placed in a line about lmlf a 
yard apart, the donkey heing in the middle. 
A Fmall primer of tl.,"namite, with electric 
fuse attached, was placed on the forehead 
of each, and fastened bJT a strinf! under the 
jaw. The wires were then coupled in cir- 
cuit and attached to the electric machine. 
The three ch3rg-e
 were exploded simulta- 
neou:o:ly, the animal:; falling dead instant]). 
without a sÜ'uggle. 


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T lIE 


DECEMBER, 1877. 




S ECTION III. Tlte Period of .Developn
ent. N R\YCOl\lEN AND 
'V ATT, A. D. 1700 to A. D. 1800.-22. The evident defects of Sa- 
very's engine, its extravagant consumption of fuel, the inconvenient 
necessity of placing it near the bottom of the mine to be drained, and 
of putting in several for successive lifts ,vl)ere the depth ,vas consid- 
erable, and, especially, the risk wl1Ìch its use .with high pressures in- 
volved even in its best form, con8iderably retarded its introduction, 
and it came into use very slowly, notwitl)standing its superiority in 
economic efficiency over horse-power. 
23. The first important step taken to","'ard remedying these de- 
fects ,vas by Thomas N ewcomen and John Cawley, or Caller, two 
mechanics of the town of Dartmouth, Deyonshire, England, .who In"o- 
duced what has been known as the Atmospheric or N ewcomen En- 
Newcomen ,,"'as a blacksmith, and Cawley a glazier and plumber. 
It has been stated that a yisit to Corn,vall, ,vhere they ,vitnessed 
the working of a Savery engine, first turned their attention to the 
subject; but a friend of Savery luts statecl that N ewcomen was as 
early ,vith his general plans as Savery. 
After some discussion ","'ith Cawley, N ewcomen entered into corre- 
spondence with Dr. Hooke, proposing a steam-engine, to consist of a 
J An abstract of "A History of the Growth of the Steam-Engine," to be published 
by D. Appleton & Co. 
YOLo XII.-9 


steam-cylinder containing a piston sÍJnilar to those of IIuyghens's and 
Papin's engines, and driving a separate jJ1ûnp, siluilar to those gen- 
erally in use where water was raised by horðe or ,vind power. 
Dr. Hooke advised and argueù strongly against their plan; but, 
fortunately, the oùstinate belief of tlle unlearned mechanics ,vas not 

, c 


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FIG. 10. -THE NEWCo)(E

overpowered by the disquisitions of tl1eir distinguisl1ed corres})ondent, 
and N ewcomen and Cawley attempted an engine on their peculiar 
This succeeded so well as to induce them to continue tl1eir labor
and in 1705 to patent 1-in combination with Savery, who held the 
right of surface conder..sation, and who inrluced them to allow hinl an 
interest with them-an engine combining a steam-cylinder and piston, 
surface condensation, and a separate boiler and separate pumps. 
1 It has been denied that a patent was issued; but there is no doubt that Savery 
claimed and received an interest in the new engine. 


24. In the atmospheric engine as first designed, the slo"T process 
of condensation by the application of the condensing water to the 
exterior of the cylinder to produce the vacuun1 caused the stroke
the engine to take place at very long intervals. An improvement 
"Tas, however, soon effected, which imrnensely increased this rapidity 
of condensation. A jet of "Tater was thro"Tn directly iuto the cylin- 
der, thus effecting for the N e,vcomen engine just what Desaguliers 
had previously done for the Sa- 
very engine. As thus irllprO\Ted, 
the K e,vcomen engine is shown 
in Fig. II. 
1Iere d is the boiler. Steam 
passes from it through the cock d, 
and up into the cylinder a, equi- 
librating the pressure of the at- 
mosphere, and allowing the heavy 
pump-rod k to fall, and, by its 
greater weight, acting through the 
hearn i i, to raise the piston s to 
the position shown. 
The cock d being shut, f is 
then opened, and a jet of water 
fr0111 the reservoir g enters tIle 
eylinc1er, producing a vacuum hy 
the condensation of the st.e:1m. 
The pressure of the air above the piston now forces it do,vn, ag
raising the pump-rods, and thus the engine ,vorks on indefinitely. 
The pipe It is used for the purpose of keeping the upper side of 
the piston covered with ,vater, to prevent air-leaks-a device of N ew- 
Two gauge-cocks, c, c, and a safety-valve, 
r, are represented in 
the figure, but it 'will be noticed that the latter is quite different from 
the now usual form. 1lere, the pressure uf'ed "Tas hardly greater than 
that of the atlT1osphere, and the ,vpight of the valye it!'elf was ordina- 
rily sufficient to keep it down. The rod 'In was intended to carry a 
counter-weigl}t ,vhen needed. 
The condensing w'ater, together wit]1 the water of condensation, 
flows off through the OpPll pipe p. N e,vcomen's first engine mrrde six 
or eight strokes a minute; the later and improved engines made ten 
or twelve. 
25. The steam-engine has now assun1ed a fOrIn t1ìat sOll1ewhat re- 
sembles the modern machinc. 
An important defpct stiH existed in tbe necessil y of keeping an 
attendant by the engine to open and shut the cocks. A LJ"ight Loy, 
however, IInmphrey Potter, to ,vhom was nssignt'd this duty on a 
N ewcomen engine in 1713, contrived 'vhat he called a sco{JfJan-a 





FIG. 11.-NEWCOMEN'S ENGINE, A. D. 1705. 


catch }'igged ,vith a cord frotH the bean1 overhead-which performed 
the work for him. 
The boy, thus making the operation of the valye-gear antonuttic, 
increased the speed of the engine to fifteen or sixteen strokes 3 min- 
ute, and gave it a regularity and 
certainty of action that could only 
be obtained by such an adjust- 
ment of its valves. 
This ingenious young mechanic 
afterward became a skillful ,vol'k- 
nlan, and an excelJent enginee:&, 
and went abroad on tbe Conti- 
nent, ,vhe,re he erected several fine 
26. Potter's rude valve - gear 
,vas soon improved by Henry 
Beighton, and the new device ,vas 
applied to an engine .which that 
talented engineer erected at K ew- 
castle-on-Tyne in 1718, in which 
engine be substituted substantial 
materials for Potter's unmechani- 
cal arrang
ment of cords, as seen 
. F . 1 () 
In Ig. .... 
In this sketcll, r is a plug-tree, plug-rod, or })lug-frame, as It IS 
variously called, suspended from the great beam ,vith 'which it rises 
and falls, bringing the pins p and k, at the proper moment, in contact 
,vith the bandIes k k and n n of the valves, moving them in the 
proper direction and to the proper extent. A lever safety-v
lve is 
here used, at the suggestion (it is said) of Desaguliers. 
The piston was packed with leather or with rope, and lubricated 
with tal1ow. 
27. Further improvelnents were effected in the N ewcomen engine 
by several engineers, and particularly by Snleaton, and it soon came 
into quite extensive use in all of tbe mining districts of Great Britain, 
and it also became gener311y known upon the Continent of Europe. 
Its greater .economy of fuel as compared with tbe Savery engine 
in its best form, its gn-'ater safety-a consequence of the low steam- 
pressure adopted-and its greater working capacity, gave it such 
nlanifest superiority that its adoption took place quite rapidly, and 
it cOlJtinued in general use in some districts where fUf>l 'waR cheap 
up to a very recent date. Some of tbese engines 
1l'e even now' in 
From about 1'758 to the time of the introduction of the '.Vatt en- 
gine, this was the macl1Íne in almost universal use for raising large 
quantities of water. 

, '11 

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28. The success of the Ne,ycomen engine naturaHy attracted the 
attention of mechanics, and of scientific men as ,vell, to the possibility 
of making other applications of steam-po,vm'. 
The greatest Illen of the time gave much attention to the subject; 
but, until J A)IES 'V ATT began the work that has made hin1 fan1ou
nothing more was d<;>ne than to improve the proportions and to 
slightly alter the details of the N ewcomen and Cawley engine, even 
by such skillful engineers as Brindley and Smeaton. 
Of the personal history of the earlier inventors and in1prOyers of 
the steam-engine very little is known; but that of 'Vatt has been 
fully traced. 
29. This great man was born at Greenock, then a little Scotch 
fishing-village, but now a considerable and a busy town, which annu- 

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ally launches upon the waters of the Clyde a fleet of steamships 
"Those engines are probably, in the aggregate, f:1r more powerful than 
were all the engines in the w'orlc1 at the date of "T att's birth-January 
10, 1 
He was a bright boy, but exceedingly delicate in health, and quite 
unable to attend school regularly, or to apply himself closely to either 
study or play. 
IIis early education 'was given by his parents, who wen
ble and intelligent people, and the tools borro,ved from his father's 
carpenter's-bench served at once to amuse him and to giye him a dex. 
terity anel familiarity ,vith their use that must undoubtedly have ùeen 
of inestimable value to hinl in after-life. 
1\1. Arago, the elllinent French philosopher, '\vho 'wrote one of 


the earliest and most interesting biographies of 1Vatt, relates an- 
lcdotes of hiln "Thich, if correct, illustrate well the thoughtfulness 
and the intelligence, as well as the mechanical bent, of the boy's 
nlind. - 
lIe is said, at the age of six years, to have occupied himself during 
leisure hours with the solution of geometrical problems, and Arago 
discovers in a story, in which he is described as experimenting ,vith 
the tea-kettle, his earliest investigations of the nature and }Jropcrtics 
of steam. 
1Vhen finally sent to the village-school, his ill-health prevented 
his nutking rapid progress, and it lvas only when more than fourteea 
years of age that he hegan to show' that he ,vas capa1le of taking the 
lead in his clas
, and to exhibit his ability in the study particularly of 
Inathematics. IIis spare tin1e "Tas principal1y spent in sketching with 
his pencil, in carving, and in "Torking at the bench, both in ,vood and 
InetaL II is Üt\yorit.e work seellled to be the repairiug of nautical in- 
In boyhood, as in after-life, he was a dilig
l1t reader, and he 
seemed to find sOlnething to interest hÎIn in every book that came 
into llis hands. 
At the age of eighteen 'Vatt was sent to Glasgo,y, there to reside 
with his mother's relatives, and to learn the trade of a mathematical- 
instrumeJlt maker. The mechanic ,,
itll ,,,honl he was placed ,vas soon 
found too indolent, or ,vas otherwise inca})able of giving much aid in 
the project; aud Dr. Dick, of the University of Glasgo,v, with whom 
'\T att became acquainted, a(hrised hinl to go to London. 
Accordingly, he set out in June, 1755, for the ruetropolis, where, 
on his arrival, he arrangpd with 1\11'. John l\lorgan, in Cornhill, to 
work for a year at his chosen business, receiving as conlpcnsatioll 
twenty guineas. At the end of the year he wa::; compelled by serious 
ill-health to return home. 
30. IIaving hecoll1e restored to Jwa1th, he went again to Glasgow, 
in 1756, with the intention of pursuing his calling there. But not 
bein cr the son of a hnrO'ess , and not having served his apprenticeshi p 
ö :"") 
in the town, he was forbidden by the guilds, or trades.unions, to open 
!t shop in Glasgow. Dr. Dick came to his aid, and employed him to 
repair some apparatus "Thich had been bequeathed to the college; and 
he '\
as finally allowed tIle use of thrpe roonlS in the university-build, 
in-o- its authorities not beinO' under the muuièipal rule. 

He remained here until 1760, when, the trades no longer object, 
inO' he took a sho p in the city, and in 1761 nloved again into a 
shop on the north side of the Trongate, ,vhere he earned a scanty 
living without molestation, still keeping up his connection ,vith the 
college. . 
lIe spent much of his leisure time, of which be had more than 
was desirable in makillO' l )hilosO I )hical experiments, and in the manu- 
, '" 


facture of musical instruments, making himself familiar with the SC1- 
, and devising imprO\'enlellts in the construction of orga,ns. 
IIis reading ,vas still very desultory; but tile introduction of the 
N ewcomen engine in the neighborhood of Gla
go\V, and the presence 
of a lllodel in the college collections, wl1Ïch lllode] ,"vas placed in Lis 
hands in 1763 for repairs, léd him to study the history of the stearn- 
engine, and to conùuct for hinlself an experimental research into tIle 
properties of steam, using a set of inlprovised apparatus. 
31. The N e,vcomen model, as it happened, had a boiler, whic1l,. 
although made to a scale from engines in actual use, was quite in- 
capable of furnishing stEmm enough to work the engine. 
It was about nine inches in dÜuneter, and the ste
lln-cylinder was 
two inches in diameter, and of six inches stroke of piston, arranged as 
in Fig. 13. 
This is a picture of the most 
carefully-preserved treasure in the 
collections of the University of 
Glasgo,v. 'Vatt at once noticed 
the defect referred to, and inlme- 
diately sought first the cause and 
then the renledy. 
32. lIe soon concluded that the 
sources of loss of heat in the N e,v- 
comen engine-which loss would 
be greatly exaggerated in a snlall 
model-w'ere: first, the dissipation 
of heat by the cylinder itself, which 
'wa.s of brass, and was both a good 
 'I ' - 
conductor and a go
d radiator; P 
secondly, the loss of heat conse- "' 
 ==_ I III 
quent upon the necessity of cool- _ . 
ing down the cylinder at every 
stroke iu producing the vacuunI ; 
and, finally, a loss of power was 
due to the existence of vapor be- 
neath the }Jiston, the presence of which vapor was a consequence of 
the imperfect method of condensation which cl]aracterizes the N e,v-, 
cornell engIne. 
He first made a cylinder of non-conducting n]aterial-wood soaked 
in oil and then baked-and found a òecideJ advantage in the econ- 
omy of steam thus secured. 
lIe then conducted a series of eXpc.rinlents upon the temperature 
and pressure of steam at such points in the scale as he could readily 
reach, and, constructing a curve with hiR results, the abscissas repre- 
senting temperatures, and the pressures being represented by the 
ordinates, he ran the curve backward until be bad obtained approxi- 

,," = . 

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mate measures of temperatures less than 212 0 , and of pressures less 
than atmospheric. 
l-Ie thus discovered that, with the amount of injection-water used 
in the N e\\ cornen engine, bringing the temperature of the interior, as 
he founel, do\\n to from 140 0 to 175 0 Fahr., a very considerable back- 
pressure ,vould be met with. 
Continuing his research still further, he measured the an10unt of 
steam used at each stroke; and, comparing it with the quantity that 
,vouid just fill the cylinder, he found that at least three-fourtlls uas 

The quantity of cold water necessary to produce condensation of 
a given weight of steam was next determined, and he found that one 
pound of steam contained enough heat to ra
e aùout six pounds of 
cold water, as used for condensation, from the temperature of 52 0 
Fabr. to the boiling-point; and, going still further, he found that he 
was compelled to use, at each stroke of the .}rewco'lnen engine, four 
times as 'Inuch injection-water as sllould suffice to condense a cylinder 
full of stearn. Thus was confirmed his previous conclusion tl1at three- 
fourths of the heat supplied to the engine "was wasted. 
His experiments having revealed to him the now "ell-known fact 
of the existence of latent beat, l1e went to his friend Dr. Black, of 
the university, with this intelligence; and the latter then inforn1ed 
him of the Theory of Latent IIeat which had but a short time earlier 
been discovered by Dr. Black himself. 
33. 'Vatt had now, therefore, determined by l1is own researches, 
as he himself enunlerates them/ the following facts: 
(1.) The capacitíes for heat of iron, copper, and of some sorts of 
wood, as compared with water. 
(2.) The bulk of steam compared with that of water. 
(3.) The quantity of water e,-aporated in a certain boiler by a 
pound of coal. 
(4.) The elasticities of steam, at various temperatures greater than 
that of boiling water, and an approxinlation to the law \vl}ich it fol- 
lows at otl1er temperatures. 
(5.) IIow much water, in the form of steam, was required, at 
every stroke, by a small N ewcomen engine, with a wooden cy1inder 
six inches in diameter and twelve inches stroke. 
(6.) The quantity of cold water required, at every stroke, to con- 
dense the steam in that cylinder, so as to gh
e it a ,vorking po'wer of 
about seven pounds on the square incI]. 
34. After these "Tell-devised and truly scientific investigation
Watt 'was enabled to enter upon his ,\Tork of improving the steam- 
engine with an intelligent understanding of its exi
.:ting defects) and 
with a knowledge of their cause. 
It was on a Sunday afternoon, in the spring of 1765, that he de- 
l Robinson's" Mechanical Philosophy," edited by Brewster. 


vised his first and his greatest invention-the separate condenser. 
His object in using it 'vas, as he says himself, to keep tlte cylinder as 
hot as the stecon that entered it... He ,vas therefore the first to appre- 
hend and to Htate a problem the modern engineer iR still vainly 
endeavoring conlpletely to solve. 
'Vatt was, at this time, twenty-nine years of age. Having taken 
this first step and made such a radical improvement, the success of 
the invention was no sooner determined than others followed in 
rapiø. succession as consequences of the exigencies arising from the 
first radical change in the old N ewcomen engine. 
But in the ,vorking out of the forms and proportions of details in 
the new engine, even 'Vatt's powerful mind, with its stores of hap- 
pily-combined scientific and practical information, was occulJied for 
35. In attaching the separate con- 
denser, he first tried surface condensa- 
tion, as in Fig. 14, ,vhich is a sketch of 
his first model; but this not succeeding 
,,"ell, he substituted the jet. Sonle pro- 
vision becanle at once nece8sary for 
preventing the filling of the condenser 
with ,vater. 
'Vatt at first intended adopting the 
same expedient ,vhich worked satisfac- 
torily'with the less effective condensa- 
tion of N ewcolnen's engine, i. e., lead- 
ing a pipe from the condenser to a depth 
greater than the height of the colunln of FIG. 14.-WATT'S FIRST MODEL, 1763. 
water which coultl be counterbalanced 
by the pressure of the atmosphere; but he suhsequently enlployed the 
air-pump, which relieves the condenser, not only of the water, but of 
the air which also usually collects in considerable volunle, and vitiates 
the vacuum. 
lIe next substituted oil ancl tallow for the ,vater previously used 
in lubrication of the piston and I
eeping it ste:un-tight, in order to 
avoid the cooling of the cylinder incident to the use of water. 
Still another cause of refrigeration of the cylinder, and consequent 
waste of power in its operation, was seen to be the entrance of the 
atnlosphere, ,vhich came in át the top and follo'wed the piston down 
tbe cylinder at each stroke. 
This the inventor concluded to prevent l)y covering the top of the 
cylinder, and allo'wing the piston-rod to play through a "stuffing-box," 
which device had long 1)een know'n to mechanics. lIe accordingly not 
only covered tho top, but surrounded the ,yhole cylinder with nu 
external casing or " steam..jncket," and allowed the stean1 from the 
boiler to pass around the stoam-cy lindor and to press upon tho upper 




surface of the piston where its pressure 'was readily variable, and 
therefore more Inanageable than that of the atnlospherc. It abo, 
besides keeping the t'ylillder hot, 
couh1 do comparatively littlc harm 
should it leak hy the piston, as it 
might be condensed and readily 
disposed of: 
36. This completed the change 
of the "atmospheric engine" of 
N ewcomen into the steanl-encrine 
of Ja111es "T att . 'fhe enaine as im- 
proved is shown in Fig. 15, which 
represents the engine as pat- , i 
enteù in ....\,pril, 1769. 'Y' att's first 
engine 'was erecteù "Tith the pecu- 
niary aid of Dr. I
oebnck, the les- 
sor of a coal-Inine on the estate of 
the Duke of IIamilton, at l{inneil, 
near llorro,vstounncss. This en- 
gine, ,vhich ,vas put up at the 
1nine, had a steanl-cylinder eigh- 
teen inches in c1ialneter. 
In the figure, the steanl passes 
f . 1 1 FIG. 15.-'WATT's PU:MPHw-ExGlXE, A. D.176Q. 
ronl the bOIler t lrong 1 the pipe d 
and the valve c'to the cylinder casing, or steanl-jacket, Y J
above the fJiston b, 'which it follo"Ts in its descent in the cyÌìnder a, 
the yahTc f being at this tilne open to allo"T the exhaust to pass into 
the condenser Ii. 
The piston now being at the lower end of the cylinder, and the 
pump-rods at the opposite end of the beam y thus raist>d, and the 
pumps filled "rith water, the valves c and f close, w bile e open
allowing the steam which remains aboye the piston to flow be- 
neath it, until, the pressure ùccoming equal above al1d below by 
the 'weight of the pnn1p, it is rapidly drawn to the top of the cylin- 
der, while the steam is displaced above, passing to the underside of 
the piston. 
K ow the valve e is c1o
eù, and c and&f are again opened, and the 
do'wn-stroke is repeated as before. The "Tater and air entering the 
condenser are reJuoved, at each stroke, by the air-pump i, ,vhich 
comlnunicates ,vith the condenser by the passage 8. The pump q 
supplies rondensing-watcr, and the pump A takes away a part of the 
,yater of condensation, which is thro,,"'n by tIle air-pnmp into the 
" hot well" k, and with it supplies the boiler. The valves are moved 
hy valve-g(\ar very similar to Deighton's, by tbe pins rn m in the 
" plug-frame" or " tappet-rod" n 11. 
The engine is mounted upon a substantial fouudation, B B. Fis 

THE GROJVTH OF THE STE..l}'[-EJ.. v -rOIJ..VE. 139 

an opening, out of which, before starting the cngine, the air is drh'cn 
frolII th
 cylinder and condenser. 
37. In the building and erection of his engines, "....att had the 
greatest difficulty in finding skillful .workmen to nlake the parts with 
accuracy, to fit them with skill, and to erect tlwm properly wlwn 
once finished. 
The fact that both N ewcomen and 'V 3tt found such serious trou- 
ble indicates that, even had the engine been designed earlier, it is 
quite unlikely that the ,vorld ,vould have seen the stealn-engine a 
success until this period, when mechanics were just acquiring tIJe 
skill requisite for its construction. But, on the other hand, it is not 
at all certain that, had the nlechallics of an earlier period Leen as 
skillful and as well eductÌted in the mannal nict'ties of their busi- 
ness, the steam-engine might not have been much earlier brought 
into nse. 
In the time of the )larqllis of Worcester, it woula Lave probably 
been found impossible to obtain worlouen to construct the stéaID- 
engine of Watt, had it been then invented. Indeed, 'Vatt, upon one 
occasion, congratulateLl himself that one of his steam-cylinders only 
lacked three-eighths of an inch of being truly cylindrical. 
38. Pecuniary misfortunes soon deprived "
or att of the assistance 


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of his friend anc1 partner Dr. Roebuck, but in ] 773 he becan1e con. 
nected with an intelHgent, energeÜc, and 'wealthy Inanufacturel of 
Birmingham, )latthew Boultoll. TJlenceforward, the c::,tab1ishment 


of Boulton & 'VaU, at Soho, near Birmingham, for a long time fur. 
nished the greater proportion of all the steam-engines made in the 
In the ne\v finn, Boulton took charge of the general business, and 
'Vatt superintended the design, construction, and erection, of their en- 
gines. Boulton's business capacity, with 'Vatt's wonderful n1echanical 
ability; Boulton's physical health, and his vigor and courage, offset- 
ting \Vatt's feeble health and depression of spirits; and, n10re than 
all, Boulton's pecuniary resources, both in his own purse and in the 
wealth of his friends, enabled the firIu to conquer aU difficulties, 
whether in finance, in litigation, or in engineering. 
39. 'Vatt had, before meeting Boulton, conceived tl1e idea of 
econolnizing some of tbat power the loss ðf ,vhich was so plainly 
indicated by the violent rush of the exhaust steam into the con- 
denser, and had described the advantages that would follow the use 
of steam expansively, by means of a " cut-off," in a letter to Dr. Small, 
of Birminghalll, dated Glasgow, J\lay, 1769. lIe ljad also planned a 
" compound engine." 
This invention of the expansion of steam, which, in importance, 
,vas hardly exceeded by any other improvement of the steam-engine, 
as adopted at Soho in 1776, but the })atent was not obtained until 

FIG. 16.-'V ATT'S STEA..
-ENGINE, A. D. 1760. 

During this interval, \\T 3tt inyented the crank and fly-whee], hut, 
as the former had been first pa.tented by 'Yasborough, who is sup- 
posed to have obtained a knowledge of it from 'YOrkn1ell eU1ployed 
by Watt, the latter patented several other Inethods of producing 


rotary motions, and temporarily adopted tbat kno"
n as the" sun-and- 
planet wheels," subsequently using the crank. 
The adaptation of t!le steam-engine to the prod uction of rotary 
motion ,vas soon succeeded by the introduction of the Double-Act- 
ing Engine, the Fly-ball Governor, the Counter, the Steam-Engine 
Indicator, and other n1Ïncr but valuable improvements, which were 
the final steps by which the 'Vatt steam-engine became applicable to 
driving mills, to use on railroads, to steanl-navigation, and to. the 
countless purposes by which it has become, as it has already been de- 
nominated, the great materia] agent of civilization. 
40. Fig. 16 represents the Watt Double-Acting engine. It win be 
noticed that it differs from the Single-Acting engine in baving steam- 
valves, B B, and exhaust-valves, E E, at each end of the cylinder, 
thus enabling the steam to act on each side of the piston alternately, 
and practically doubling the power of the engipe. 
The end of the beam opposite to the cylinder is usually connected 
,vith a crank-shaft. 

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41. At this point, the history of the steam-engine becomes the 
story of its applications in several different directions, the most Ï111- 
}1ortant of which are the raising of water, which has hitherto been its 
only application; the propulsion of carriages, as in the loconlotive- 
engine; the driving of miHs and Inachinery; and steam-navigation. 


re we take' lea ye of l anles ,,-yo att, of WhOlll a French author 1 
says, " The part which he played, in the Inechanical application of the 
power of steam, can only be compared to that of Newton in astron- 
omy, and of Shakespeare in poetry." 
l{etiring from the firm in the first year of the present century, 
'Vatt remained quietly on his estate at Heathfield. lIe fitted up a 
little workshop in his house, and there spent nearly all his tinle, in- 
venting, designing, and constructing ingenious machines for special 
purposes. lIe died peacefully, fnll of years and great in faIlle, ....\ugust 
25, 1819
Since the time of "r att, improvements haye been rrincipal1y in 
matters of mere detail, and in the extension of the raIlge of application 
of the stealll-engino. , 
42. To complete the history of its application to raising water, 
the su('ceeding figures are given as exhibiting the principal forms of 
punlping-engine as no'w constructed. 





* E 













Fig. 17 represents tl18 Cornish pumping-engine, ,vhich, in spite of 
its great ,,"eight and high cost, is still much used. 
It ""in be seen that it is the engine of James 'Vatt in all its gen- 
eral features. 

1 "Traité des Machines à Vapeur," E. M. BatailIe, Paris, 1847. 

4M-E.J..'lGINE. 143 

It is single-acting, and has a steam-jacket and a plug-rod valve- 
gear, J.lL The Ï111proven1ellts are principally in the furm and pro- 
portions of its parts, and in its adaptation to high steam and " 
, cut-off'" 
A is the steam-cy linder, B C the pistO!l and rod, IJ the 1ealn, and 
E the pump-rod. The condenser is seen at G, and the nir-pump at IL 
The steam-cy1inder is " steam-jacketed," and is surrounded by a cas- 
ing, 0, conlposed of brickwork or other non-conducting nlaterial. 
Steanl is first admitted above the piston, driving it rapidly down"
and raising the pUInp-rod. At an early point in the stroke the adnlis- 
sion of steam is checked by the sudden closing of the induction-yalve, 
and the stroke is conl rleted nntler the act ion of exp3nding steam 
assisted by the inertia of the he:],yy parts already ill motion. The 
necessary ,veight and inertia are aflorded in many case
, where the 
engine is applied to the }nllnpÍng of deep nlines, hy the innl1ensely 
long and heavy pump-rocl
. 'Vhere this weight is too great, it is 
connterùalanccd; and ,vhere, as ,,"'hen used for the water-suI'ply of 
cities, too small, weights are added. 'Vhen tte stroke is completed, 
the" equilibrium-valve" is opened, and the steam passes fronl above 
to the space belo\v the piston, and, an equilibrium of pressure being 
thn.s produced, the pump-rods descend, forcing the water fronl tbe 
pumps and raising the steam-piston. The ahsenee of the crank or 
otller device ,vhich might determine absolutely tIle length of stroke 
con1pels a very careful adjustnlcnt of steam adIni
sion to the 
of load. Should the stroke be allowed to exceed 1 he pre per lellgt h, 
and should danger thus arise of the piston striking the cylinder- 
11eads, the movenlent is checked by Luffer-bean1s. The regul
is effected by a "cataract," a kind of hydraulic governor, consisting 
of a plunger-pump with a reservoir attached. The plunger is rai
by tbe engine, and then autonuttically detached. It fallR ,vit h greater 
or less rapidity, its velocity being detenllined by the size of the educ- 
tion orifice, which is adjustable l)y hand. "Then the plunger reach(:'s 
the bottonl of the plllup-barrel, it disengages a cateh, a weight is 
allo,ved to act upon the stean1-valve, opening it, and t lIe engine is 
caused to make a stroke. ',hen the outlet of the ('ataract is nearly 
closed, the engine stands still a conf'ic1erable tÌ1ne while the plunger 
is descending, and the strokes succeed each other at long intervals. 
'Vhen the opening is greater, the cataract acts Dlore rapidly, and the 
engine ",'orks faster. This has been regnrded until recently as the 
most economical of pumping-engines, and it is still generally usetl in 
Europe in freeing mines of water. 
43. Fig. 18 represents a Iighter, cheaper, and almost equally cflèc- 
tive machine, known as the Bull Cornish or Direct-Aet ing Cornish 
engine. It ,vas first designed by the competitor of 'Yatt., by whose 
nmne it is known. As is s(\en by refen'l-::ce to the engra \'illg, its 
cylinder a is directly above the pump-rods c, d, [J, and is carrietl on 


, b b. The air-pump m lop, the tank n, and valve-gear 
q r s, are quite sÌlnilar to those of the beam Cornish engine. The bal- 
ance-bcaIn is seen at h i. 

Fig. 19 represents another form of 
pumping-engine 'which belongs to the 
class known as the "con1pound" or 
" two-cylinder" engine. 
This class of engInes, III ,,'hich the steam exhausted from one 
cylinder is further expanded in the second, "Tas first introduced by 
Hornblower, in 1781, and "\\
as patented, in combination "Tith the Watt 
condenser, by W ooJf, at a later date (] 804), 'with 3. view to adopting 
high steam and considerable expansion. 
The 'V oolf engine was to SOlne extent adopted, but 'was not suc- 
cessful in competing with 'Vatt engines ,vhere the latter ,vere ,veIl 
built, and, like Hornblower's engine, was soon given up. 
The compound engine has come up again 'within a few years, and, 
with what is 'nO'll) considered high steam and considerable expansion, 
and designed "Tith more intelligent reference to the requirements of 

: :;:11 I 
':.d'r I 
h :: j 'pl: 
 :;. I .: 
b -' 
 ,", b " 

. !. oj 1/ ] , I:t:' .. 
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t J 

GINE, 1798. 

f-E.LVGI.LY'E. 145 

eCOn0I11Y in working steanl in this manner, it seems gradually dis- 
placing all other f01'n1S of engine. 

, .. .x 

- -- 
-= -


. '1 

FIG. 19.-HoR

4-1-. An eX:l1nple of this form of Plln1ping-engine, and one which l
a favorite with rnany engineers, is the bean1 and crank engine (Fig. 

b II"'" ,", .11 
t ,. 

n WWlllu 


20), 0 I>, E F, with double cylinder, ../1, B, 'working the' "comLÏIwd 
bucket and plunger," or donùle-:1cting p1.unp, J. In its cylinders ste


 usually expanded from fonr to eight tittles. The Leavitt compound 
engine is shown in Fig. 21. 


In this engine tIle lower el1d
, A, B, of the two cylinders are 
brought close together under the centre of the bean1, thus shortening 







,iI!I!!!I!!lli!!lIfnllllllljlllllllmnmlllllllibll IU IlllIIfilJII '" .- 
, , 

,.. -, :H 't!J!.!!... "ii/'C

111l- ' '" 
] '
!JiIf .. . 

t : 






., .
, . ...,...."......." ..... .. 
,'''',....;:...,' ;:.......v......",. ..........."..,....,.''X'x'-.... ..........."',",...........,'.....

,. "....:;:"'...,'" " . "'. "...",.........""."....:,.....,......".,......",..., ."....,....."......"'...'-...."" :-..,,,..., .,..", 

Fw. 2:2.


the stealn-passages between them, permitting a synImetrical distribu- 
tion of strain, and the use of the usual general type of beam-engine. 
A readily-adjustable valve-gear is attached, and its cut-off gives an 
expansion of about ten tinIes, the boiler steam-pressure heing about 
eighty pounds per square inch. The cylinders are steanI-jacketed, 
and very thoroughly clothed ,vith a non-conducting felting and lag- 
ging. This engine has given the best economical results yet reported 
in this country, attaining a " duty" on a test-trial of more tl]an 100,- 
000,000 pounds of ,vater raised one foot high by each 100 pounds of 
fuel burned. 
Still another recent form of steam })umping.engine, noted for its 
cheapness conlbined ,vith efficiency, is that of "r orthington (Fig. 22), 
in which two pairs of steam cylinders, A, B, are placed side by side, 
each pnir dri'Ting a pump-plunger, F, attached to its piston-rod, and 
each having its valve-gear, II L, lJI N, actuated by the movement of 
. the piston of the other. The cylinders together form a compound 
engIne; the 'stearn exhausted froln the smaller, A, passing into the 


larger, B, where it is further expan<led. The:' valve-genr of this en- 
gine is peculiarly ,veIl adapted to this type of engine. There is no 
fl y -,vheel and the motion of each of the two inde ] )endent engines, 
, . 
which together fOrIn the pair, is controlled by its neighhor, the ynlvc- 
gear of the one beino- moved by the piston of the other. This ingeu- 
b . . 
ions com1inntion permits ench pi
ton to move frOll] end to eud of ItS 
cylinùer, holds it stationary an instant while the PUIlip-cylinders 1)e- 


COllie cOlnpletely fined and their valves closed, and then sets it in nlO- 
tion on the return-stroke. Thus the pif'tons nlove alternately. These 
enginf's have given a very high duty. The condenser is seen at C, and 
the air-plunp is at D, the latter being 'VOi"kecl froIn the bell-crank lever 
II by means of links, I, IL The steam-valves, Q, R, are balanced. 
rr TT are the water-induction val Yes, and l' l' those on the eduction- 
Here ,,"e leave the steam-engine as apl)licd to raising water. "... e 
have invariably noticed, in the fOrIns of engines so used, that a con- 
denser forms a part of the apparatus. 
"7" e will next briefly trace the history of that now familiar form 
of engine in w"hich the steam, having clone its work, is discharged 
directly into the atmosphere. , 




A RE3IARI{ABLE discovery has been 111ac1e hy the astronomers 
of Lord Lindsay's observatory at Dunecht-a discovery the true 
meaning of which is not as yet fully perceived. It 11la)' be rerl1em- 
here(l that SOUle nine 111011th8 ago a new star, as it ,yas caned, Hlade 
its appearance in the constellation Cygnus. 1 This oLject shone out 
,vhere before no star had been known to astronomers-not merely, be 
it noticed, where there was no visible star, but .where none was re- 
corded e\ren in lists like Argelander's " Durchnlusterung," containing 
hundreds of thousands of telescopic stars. It ,,
as not, howe\TE'r, alto- 
gether hnpossihle that some slnaU star ,,-ithin moderate telescopic 
range had existed in the spot where the ne,v star shone out, and that 
in some w'ay this small star had escaped obser\Tation. This seenled 
the m
re likely because tbe new star had appearEd in a part of the 
heavens very rich indeed in telescopic stars; at any rate, astronomers 
had reason to believe that they would be readily able to determine 
the question w'ith a high degree of probability by ,vatching the star 
as it gradually faded out of vie\y. For a "ne,v star" "Thich bad 
shone out in tJle constellat.ion of the Northern Cro,vn in 
Iay, 1866, 
and had heen identified with a tenth-n1agnitnde star in Argelanclcr's 
list, had gradually falled out of view", and, growing yet fainter, had 
sunk through one telescopic magnitude after another until it shone 
again as a tenth-111agnitude star only. Since that star 11ad resullied 
its former lustre, or rather its fornler faintnes
, it seen1cd not unrea- 
sonable to conclude that so also ,,"ould the star in Cygnus. 'Ve shall 
presently see ho\v far this expectation was frOin being fulfilled. 

1 See PoprL.AR SCIEXCE )IoXTIJLY, "01. xi., p. 59. 

ST...IR OR ST_.JR-...1IIST. 


Dnring its time of greatest observed brilliancy the new star in the 
Swan was very carefully watchea by spectroscopists. The results 
,vere in many respects interesting. The star in the Cro"'\vn had sho"'\vn 
the bright lines of hydrogen, supel'})osed upon a faint rainbow-tinted 
spectrum, which was understood to signify that around a real, though 
probably a small, sun, some outburst of glo,ving hydrogen baa tak(ìll 
place, the chief part of the star's llew light being due to this outburs . 
The same bright hydrogen lines were seen also in the case of tbe star 
in Cygnus. But in addition to theul other b1'igIlt lines ,,
ere seen, 
which seemed to be identical ,vith those belonging to the so]a1' sierra 
(or, as many astronOlners unclassical1y can it, the chronlosphere) and 
corona. This, at least, "'\vas the opinion of 
I. Cornu, of the Paris Ob- 
servatory. Herr Vogel, ,vho began his observations on Decenlber 5th, 
,vhen the star "ras between the fourth aud fifth nlagnitude, and C011- 
tinued them to 1\larch 10th, when the star had sunk belo,v the eigllth 
magnitude, does not agree on this point "'\vitb 1\1. Cornu, since a line not 
agreeing ,vith any known line in the spectru111 of the snn'g 
ierra W:1S 
c1early visible from the beginning in the speetrurll of the new star. 
TIut the most interesting point in conneetion ,vith ,..,. ogel's observa- 
tions, confirmed also by l\lr. Copeland, at the Dunecht Oùservatory, 
and by 1\11'. Backhouse, of Sunderland, was this: that, as the ne,v star 
died out, not only did the rainbow-tinted background of the spectrlll11 
fade gradually out of vie'w, ùut the relative lightness of the bright 
lines steadily changed. At last, on 
Iarch lOth, very little was left of 
the spectrum ,vhich Cornu and Vogel had seen in Decen1 bel'. The 
blue and violet portion of the spectrul11 had faded entirely from vie"'\v, 
a dark gap had appeared in the green, and a véry bro:1cl, dark band 
in the Llue. Of the bright lines t"ro only remained. One, the F line 
of hydrogen, in tIle green-blue, which had been 
ingularly conspicuous 
last December, ""as now faint. The other, in the green, which haa 
been faint in Decenlb
r, was now very bright-in fact, nearly t11e 
,vhole light of the star seemed at this tinle to conle fr0111 this lH"ight 
X 0"'\\", the changEs which had thus far ta1
en place "
ere altogether 
unlike those ,,
hich had been noticed in tIle ca
e of t11e lle"r st:1r in tbe 
X orthe1'n Cro"'\\
n. As that star fhded fron1 view the ùright lines in- 
dicative of o-lowina h'ec1ro a en died out , and only the ordinary stenar 
b r-, ,1 ð 
spectrlun relnaincd. In the case of tI]e star in Cygnus tlw part of the 
spectrum corresponding to stellar lig11t-that is to sar, the raillbow- 
tinted streak crossed by dark lines-faded graclually fronl vie"w, and 
bright lines 0111y "ere left, at least as con
picuous parts of the star's 
spectrum. This body, then, did not seen1 to be returning to tIle stel- 
lar condition at all, but actually fading out into a nelHlla. Not. only 
so, but the lines ,,
hich still ren1ained conspicuous last 
rarch ,,
lines kno"rn to be]ong to the so-called gaseous nehnlæ. One of them, 
that ,,-bieL haù beeu the faintest, but was now the brightest, C01'1'e- 


sponded to the nitrogen line of the nebular spectrum; the other, which 
,vas still conspicuous, though faint, corresponded to the hydrogen line 
of l1ebulæ. 
That, however, ,yas by no n1eans the closing chapter of this sin- 
gular history. Vogel seems to have ceased from observing the star's 
spectrum, strangely enough, at the very time when the most remark- 
nble part of the process of change seerned to be approaching. .At the 
Dnnecht Observatory also, through pressnre of work relating to 
no observations were made for nearly half a year. But, on September 
3d, Lord Lindsay's 15-inch refractor was turned on the star. In the 
telescope a star was still shining, but with a faint blue color, utter1y 
unlike that of the orb which had shone out so conspicuously la
t N 0- 
vember. Under spectroscopic examination,' however, the blue star 
,vas found to be no star at all, if "Te are to regard those orbs only as 
stars which present a spectrum in some degree an:Jlogous to that of 
our own sun. 'Ve regard Sirius as a sun, though in his spectl'lul1 the 
lines of hydrogen are abnormally strong; and, passing over the class 
of stars more closely resenlbling our sun, ,ye regard as a true star the 
orange orb, Betelgeux, though the lines of hydrogen are wanting in 
its spectrnm; nor do w.e reject from among the suns those stars "Thiel], 
like Gamma of Cassiopeia, show the lines of hydrogen bright upon a 
fainter rainho\v-tinted spectruln. There is yet another order of stars 
-those ,yhose spectrulll presents bright bands with faintly lustrous 
, which, again, "Te regard as true suns, though they differ 
doubtless notably frOln our own. But we have been in the habit of 
regarding all the star cloudlets, whether consisting of multitudillous 
stars, like the clusters, or of luminous star-mist, as differing toto cælo 
from the sun and from all his fello,,
-stars. The clusters, indeed, give 
a spectrum resmnbling the sun's, and ,,"e regard them as different only 
because of their cìustering condition. But the nebnlæ which Sir 'V. 
Herschel regarded as consisting entirely of luminous vapor, and 'which 
spectroscopic analysis has proved to be so constituted, ,,"e have re- 
gan1ed not merely as different because of the structure and arrange- 
ment of their component part
, but as differing altogether in constitu- 
tion. N O'Y, the ohject seen as a faint blue star showed the same spec- 
trtun as these gaseous nehulæ, or rather as the very falntest of these 
nebulæ. For nlost of them show three bright lines, and one or t,vo 
even sho,v four bright lines; only the faintest shine with ahsolutely 
Jllonochronlatic or one-tint light. The star in Cygnus now shines like 
these faintest of the gaseous nebulæ-that is, with a light whicl], un- 
der spectroscopic analysis, prespnts only one bright line. 
The ,vords in ,vhich Lord Lindsay announced this remarkable dis- 
covery are these: "There is little doubt but that Ods staJ" has changed 
into a planetary nebula of srnrtll angular diaJneter," though, he goes 
on to say, " such a result is in direct opposition to tIle nebular hy- 
pothesis." On this last point I venture to express dissent from Lord 


15 1 

Lindsay's opinion, which is in any case a somewhat bolll inference 
from a single observation. Assuredly the discovery just llutde is in 
direct opposition to a certain argument, derived froIn the gaseity of 
nebulæ, in favor of the gaseous hypotbesis of Laplace-an arguIl1ent 
which had ahvays appeared to the present ,vriter insufficiently estab- 
lished. But the nebular hypothesis, regarded not merely in the form 
suggested by Laplace (in which form it ,vas utterly inconsistent .with 
physical facts now known), but in the wider sense which would sin1ply 
present our solar system in the remote past as in a nebular state, "with- 
out defining its nebulosity as due either to gaseity on tbe one hand, 
or to a mixed lneteoric and cometic constitution on the other has 
nlost certainly not received a shock, but rather receives strong sup- 
port, from 1\lr. Copeland's observation. A theory of the evolution of 
the solar system, advocated by me during tbe last seven years, accord- 
ing to which the solar systenl had its origin in meteoric and cometic 
aggregation, requires that during the long ages through which the 
process of deyeloplnent continued there should be occasional olltbursts 
of light and heat in moderate degree fronl the rest of the systen1, even 
to its outskirts. That intense heat in1aginec1 by Laplace as })eryad- 
ing the entire gaseous mass, extending originally far beyond the path 
of the remotest planet of our system, would require, indeed (if it ,yere 
a physical possibility in other ways), tbat the spectrum of a develop- 
ing solar system should be uniforn1ly that of gaseity for n1Íllions on 
n1Ïllions of yeal's. If it had been found or could De proved that the 
gaseous nebulæ are in a state of intense heat, Laplace's gaseous }}y- 
pothesis would have had one powerful argument in its favor. This 
argument has been strongly urged by those ,vho have taken that 
special view of the gaseous nebulæ ".hich the recent discovery sho'ws 
to be erroneous. TIut those ,vho have maintained, as I have, that in 
the gaseous nebulæ we probably" see vast systell}s of con1ets travel- 
ing tn extensive orbits around nuclear stars," ,viII find confinnation, 
not disproof, in the discovery lately made, especially "\vhen considered 
in combination with the circumstance that Prof. 'Y right, of Yale, has 
found tIle cometic spectrum to be emitted by 111eteoric n1asses exposed 
to moderate heat; while, under slight c}Janges of condition, the co- 
ll1etic spectrum of bright carbon bands appears to give place to tl)e 
nebular brigh t-line spectrulll. 
IIowever, speculation a part, we have in the discovery just n}ade a 
11lost imI>ortant fact for our guidance-the fact, lutn}ely, that a body 
,vhich to ordinary observation has been in all respects like the star in 
the Crown, and even under spectroscopic observation shone for a 
while ,vith true stellar light, has d,villùled into a nehula the 
spectrum which has heretofore been regarded as indicative of ordinary 
gaseity.-English lJIecltanic. 

\TCE lr/O.J..VTHLY. 




T IlE system of competitive examinations for tllC public service, of 
'which I have laiù before the section a brief history compiled 
from the reports, is one of those radical innovations tbat may ulti- 
mately lead to great consequences. For the present, however, it 
leads to many debates. Not merely docs the working out of the 
scheule involve conflicting views, but there is still great hesitation in 
Ill:1ny quarters as to whether the innovation' is to be productive of 
good or of evil. The report of the Playfair Commission, and the 
more recent report relative to the changes in the India Civil Service 
regulations, indicate pretty broadly the doubts that still cleave to 
niany n1Índs on the whole question. It is enough to refer to the ,-iews 
of Sir ....\rthur IIelps, l\Ir. 'V. R. Greg, and Dr. FalT
 expressed to the 
Playfair Comn1Ïssion, as decidedly adverse to the competitive system. 
The authorities cited in the report on the India exanlÏnations scarcely 
go the length of total condelnnation; but many acquiesce only be- 
cause there is no hope of a re\'ersal. 
The question of the expediency of the system as a .whole is not 
well suited to a sectional discus
ion. 'Ve shall be much better em- 
ployed in ath'erting to BOHle of those details in the conduct of the 
exan1Ïnations that bave a bearing on the whole education of the 
country, as well as on the Civil Service itself. It was very well, at 
first starting, for the COlllluissioncrs to be guided, in their choice of 
subjects and in assigning values to those subjects, by the received 
branches of education in tbe scbools aud colleges. But, sooner or 
later, these subjects nlust be discussed on tbeir intrin8ic nlerits for 
the ends in vie'w. 
I silall occupy the present paper with the consideration of two 
departments in the exalnination programme-the on'e relating to the 
physical or natural sciences,2 the other relating to languages. 
This second topic is one of very serious iUlport. It concerns the 
Civil Service competitions only as a part of our w'hole scheme of edu- 
cation. I mean the position of languages in our exan1Ïnat1ons. 'Vhile 
the vast fielJ of natural science is rolled up in one heading, .with a 
total of 1,000 lnarks, onr Ch'il Service scheme presents a row of five 
languages besides our o'wn-twû ancicnt anel three modern-with an 
aggregate value of 2,625 lnarks. The. India. SChel1le has, in aclt1ition, 
1 From advance-sheets of a paper entitled U The Civil Service Examination Scheme 
considered with Reference-I. To Sciences; and, 2. To Languages," read at the recent 
meeting of the Social Science Congress in .Aberdeen, Scotland. 
2 This part of tbe address is omitted for want of space. 


Sanskrit and .i\rabic, at 500 marks each; the reasons of this }))'escril)- 
tion being, however, not the same us for the foregoing. 
The })lace of langnage in education is not confined to the question 
as between the ancient and the modern languages. There is a ,vider 
inquiry as to the place of languages as a ,vhole. In pursuing this 
inquiry, 'we may begin with certain things tLat are obvious and in- 
In the first place, it is apparent that if a man is sent to }]old in- 
tercourse ,vith tLe people of a foreign nation, he must Le aLle to un- 
derstand and to speak the language of that nation. Onr India ciyil 
servants are, on that ground, required to master the IIindoo spoken 
In the next place, if a certain range of infonnation that you find 
indispensable is locked up in a foreign language, you are o1liged to 
learn the language. If, in course of time, all this inforlnation is trans- 
. ferred to our native tongue, the necessity apparently ceases. These 
two extreme suppositions 'viII be allowed at once. There may, how- 
ever, be an indefinite nUluber of interuledi::tte stages: the information 
may be partially translated; and it will then Le a question ,,,hether 
the trouùle of learning the language should be incurred for tbe sake 
of the untranslateù part. Or, it may be ,vholly translated; but view- 
ing the necessary defects, even of good translations, if the subject- 
nlatter be supremely important, some people will think it worth while 
to learn the language in order to obtain the knowlet1ge in its greatest 
purity and precisions. This is a situation that admits of no certain 
rule. Our clergy are expected to know the original langunges of the 
Bible, not,,"'ithstanding the abundance of translations, 111any of ,,
must be far superior in worth and authority to the judgment of a 
merely ordinary proficient in IIebre\v and Greek. 
It is now generally conceded tbat the classical languages are no 
longer the exclusive depository of any kind of yaluable inforlnation, 
as they ,vere two or three centuries ago; yet they are still continued 
in the schools as if they possessed their original function unabated. 
"T e do not speak in them, nor listen to thel11 spoken, nor write in 
them, nor read in then1, for obtaining infornlation. 'Vhy, then, are 
they kept up? J\IallY reasons are given, as you kno,,"'. There is an 
endea"ol' to sho,v that, even in their original funC'tion, they are not 
quite effete. Certain profcsfoiions are said to rely npon them for some 
points of infonnation nut fully cOlllmunicated by the mediunl of Eng- 
lish. Such is the rather ÏIH1ircct exanlple of the clergy ,vith Greek. 
So it is said that law is not thoroughly understood 'without I.Jatin, be- 
canse the great source of htw, the TIoll1an code, is 'written ill Latin, 
nnc1 is in Hlany points untranslatable. Further, it is contentletl that 
Greek philosophy cannot he fully lllastcred ,yithout a knowletlgc of 
the Iancrnao-e of PInto and Aristotle. But an ar
!ll1nent that is re- 
o 0 "-' 
duced to these exauJples 111USt be near its vanishing-point. K ot one 


of the cases stanJs a rigorous scrutiny, and they arc not relied upon 
as the Iuain justification of the continuance of classics. .A, new line 
of defense is opened up that ,vas not at all present to the nlinds of 
sixtC'enth-century scholars. "r e arc told of numerous indirect and 
secollJary ad vantages of cultivating language in general auù the 
classic languages ill particular, which nlake the acquisition a rewanl- 
ing labor, even without one particle of the primary use. But for 
these secondary advantages, languages could have no claim to ap- 
pear, with such enormous values, in the Civil Service scheme. 
1Hy purpose requires nle to advert to these alleged secondary uses 
of language-not, however, for the purpose of counter-arguing thew, 
but rather to indicate ,vhat seems to me the true mode of bringing 
them to the proof. \ 
The lnost usual phraseology for describing the indirect benefit of 
languages is that they supVly a t,oaining to the po\vers of the mind; 
that, if not infornlation, they are culture j that they react upon our 
nlastery of our own language, and so on. It is quite necessary, ho,v- 
ever, to find tenus more definite flnd tangible than the slippery ,vords 
" culture" and" teaining ;" ,ve must kno\v in precise language what 
particular powers or aptitudes are increased by the study of a foreign 
language. Nevertheless, the conclusions set forth in this paper do 
not require me to work out an exhaustive review of these aavantages. 
It is enough to give as many as will serve for examples. 
Now, it nlust be freely admitted, as a possible case, that a prac- 
tice introduced, in the first instance, for a particular pnrpose, nlay be 
found applicable to many other purposes; so much so that, ceasing 
to be employed for the original use, this practice may be kept up for 
the sake of the after-uses. For exanlple, clothing ,vas no 'doubt pri- 
Inarily contrived for warmth; but it is not no\v confined to that-dec- 
oration or ornal11ent, distinction of sexes, ranks, and offices, modesty 
-are also attained by means of clothes. This exanlple is a suggestive 
one. ".... e ha \'e only to snppose ourselves migrating to SOI11e African 
cliInate, where clothing for wannth is absolutely ùispensed \vith. 
'Ve should not on that account adopt literal nudity-we should still 
desire to maintain those other advantages. The artistic decoration 
of the person would continue to be thought of; and, as no amount of 
painting and tattooing, with strings of beads superadded, "Tould an- 
s wcr to our ideal of personal elegance, we should have recourse to 
S0111e light, fihny textures, that would allow the displays of drapery, 
colors, and design, and sho\v off the poetl'Y of motion; 'we should. also 
indicate the personal differences tbat "Te were accustol1led to show by 
vesture. But now comes the point of the moral: ,ye sllould not lnain- 
tain our close, heavy fabrics, our great-coats, sh
nyls, and cloaks. 
These would cease with the need for them. Perhaps the first en1Í- 
grants conld keep up the preju
ice for their ,varm thingE:, but not so 
their successors. 


",... ell, then, suppose the extreme case of a foreign language that 
is entirely and avo\veclly superseded as regards communication and 
interpretation of thoughts, but still furnishing so many valuable aids 
to mental inlprovenlent that we keep it up for the sake of these. As 
,ve are not to see, speak, or read the langnage, \ve do not need abso- 
lutely to know the meaning of every ,vord; ,ve may, perhaps, dis- 
pense 'with much of the technicality of its grammar. The vocables 
and the grammar would be kept up exactly so far as to serye the 
other purposes, a11(l no further. The teacher would llaye in view the 
secondary uses alone. Supposing the language related to our own by 
derivation of ,vords, and that this was \vhat ,ve put stress upon, then 
the derivation would always be uppermost in the teacher's thoughts. 
If it ,vere to illustrate universal grammar and l)hilology, this would 
be brought out to the neglect of translation. 
I have made an imaginary supposition to prepare the "Tay for t1le 
real case. Tlle classical, or language, teachrr is assumed to be fuBy 
conscious of the fact that the l)rimary use of the languages is as good 
as defunct; and that he is continued in office because of certain 
clearly-assigned secondary uses, but for which he would he suspended 
entirely. Some of the secondary uses present to his mind, at all 
events one of those that are put forward in argument, is that a for- 
eign language, and especially Latin, conducm; to good composition in 
our own languagc. And aR we do compose in our o,vn language, and 
never compose in J.,jatin, the teacher is bound to think n1ainly of the 
English part of the task: to see that the pupils succeed in the Englif'h 
translation, ",'hether they succeed in the other or not. They nlay be 
left in a state of considerable ignorance of good Latin fornls-igno- 
rance ,viII never expose theIn-but any defects in their English ex- 
pression will be sure to be disclosed. Again, it is said tbat ul1ÍYcl'sal 
grannnar or philology is taught upon the basis of a foreign language. 
Is this object, in point of fact, present to the nlind of every teacher, 
and brought forward, even to the sacrifice of the po'wer of reading 
and writing, which, by the supposition, is never to be wanted? Fur- 
ther, the Latin grammar is said to be a logical discipline. Is this, 
too, kept in view as a predominating end? Once more, it is declared 
that throuO'h the classics we attain the hirrhest cultivation of taste, 
by seeing models of nnpara11eled literary forIn. Be it 
o; is this 
habitually attended to in the teaching of these languages? 
I believe I am safe. in saying that, ,vhile the
e various secondary 
ad\'antages are put forward in the volelnic fiR to the valne of lan- 
, the teaching practice is not in fnll consisteney therewith. 
Even 'when in ,,'ora the supporters of classics put forward t
le se('- 
ondary nses, in deed they belie themselves. :Excellence in teacl:ing 
is l}eld by them to consist, in the first in
tance, in the power of accu- 
rate interpretation, as if that ohsolete nse ,vcre still the use. If a 
teacher does this ,vell, he is reckoned a good teacher, altl10ugh be 


docs little or nothing for tho other ends, ,,-hie]}, in argunlent, are 
treated as the reason of his existencC'. Indeed, this is the kind of 
teaching that is alone to be expected from the ordinary teacher; all 
the other ends are nlore difficult than simple worù-teaching. Even 
,yhen English composition, logic, and taste, are taught in the most di- 
rect way, they are more tliflicult than the siulple teaching of a foreign 
language for purposes of interpretation; but wIlen tacked on as ac- 
cessories to instruction in a language, they are still nlore tl'oublesol11o 
to Ï1npart. A teacher of rare excellence nlay help his })upi]s in Eng- 
lish style, in philology, in logic, and in taste; Lut the mass of teachers 
can do very little in any of those directions. They are never foum 
fault ,vith merely because their teaching docs not rise to the height 
of the great arguments tbat justify their vbcation; they would be 
found fault ,,
ith if their pupils were supposed to have made little way 
in that first function of language "which is never to be called into 
I do not rest satisfied with quoting the palpable inconsistency be- 
tween the practice of the teacher and the polernic of the defender of 
languages. I believe, further, that it is not expedient tù carryon so 
nIany different acquisitions together. If you ,vant to teach thorough 
English yon need to arrange a course of English, allot a definite tin1e 
to it, and follow it with undivided attention during tbat time. If you 
wish to teach philology, provide a systematic scheme, or text-book 
of philology, and bring together all the 1110st select illustrations fro1l1 
languages generally. So for logic and for taste: these subjects are 
far too serious to be imparted in passing allusions while the pupil is 
engaged in struggling with enigmatic difficulties. They need a place 
in the programme to themselves; and, when so provided for, the 
s1l1al1 dropping contributions of tbe language-teacher may easily be 
dispensed with. 
The argument for languages 1113.Y, no doubt, take a bolder flight, 
and maintain that the teacher cloes not need to turn a
icle from his 
l)lain path to secure these secondary ends-now the only valuable 
ends. The contention may be that in the close and rigorous atten- 
tion to mere interpretation, just as if interpretation were still the liv- 
ing use, these other purposes are inevitably secured-good English, 
universal granlmar, logic, ta'tc, etc. I think, however, that is too far 
fronl the fact to be very confidently maintained. Of course, were it 
correct, the teacher should never b:1 ve departed from it, as the best 
teachers contiNually do, and glory in doing. 
On the face of the thing, it must seClU an unworkahle po
ition to 
surrender the value of a language, as a language, find k(1ep it up for 
something else. The teaching HUlst always he guided by the original, 
although defunct, use. This is the n
tural, the ea
y course to foIlo'w; 
for the nIass of teachers at all tinles it is the broad ,,?ay. Whate,er 
the necessities of argnment may c1rh r e a man to say, yet in his teach- 


ing he cannot help postulating to himself, as an indispensable fiction, 
that his pupils are some day or other to hear, to read, to speak, or to 
write, the language. 
The intense conservatism in the matter of languages, the alacrity 
to prescriùe languages on all sides, ,vithont inquiring whether they 
are likely to be turned to account, may be referred to various canEes. 
For one thing, the remark may SeeiTI ungracious and invidious that 
many minds, not always of the highest force, are absorbed and in- 
toxicated by languages. TIut a})art fronl this t1}ey are, by compari- 
son, easy to teach and easy to examine Ul)ou. Now, if t}}ere is 31]Y 
motiye in education more })owerful than another, it is case in the 
work itself. "Teare aU, .without exception, copyists of that Irish 
celebrity who, when he canle to a good bit of road, paced it to and 
fro a nnmber of times before going forward on the rougher footing. 
So far I may seem to be arguing against tbe teaching of language 
at al1, or, at any rate, the languages expressively called dead. I am 
not, however, pressing this point further than as an illustration. I do 
not ask anyone to give an opinion against classics as a subject of in- 
struction; although, undoubtedly, if this opinion ,yere prevalent, my 
principal task would be very much lightened. I have mere1y ana- 
lyzed the utilities ascribed to the ancient and modern languages, with 
a view to settling their place in competitive examinations. 
1\1y thesis, then, is that languages are not a proper 
ubject for 
cOl11petition with a view to })l'ofessional appointments. The explana- 
tion falls under two heads: 
In the first place, there are certain avocations .where a foreign 
language must be known, because it has to be used in actual business. 
Such are tbe Indian spoken languages. N o"r, it is clear that in such 
cases the knowledge of the language, as being a sine qua non, must 
be made imperative. This, however, as I think, is not a case for conl- 
petition, but for a sufficient pass. There is a certain pitch of attain- 
ment that is desirable even aOt first entering the service; no one 
should fall below this, and to rise much above it cannot matter a 
great deal. At all events, I think the measure should be absolute and 
not relative. I would not give a nlan merit in a cOlnpetitiou hecause 
another nHtn happens to" be ,vorse than hinlself in a nlatter t}}at an 
Innst know; both the men n)ay be absolutely bacl. 
It may be the case that certain languages arc so aclnliraùly con- 
structed and so full of beauties that to study them is a liberal educa- 
tion in itself. But tl11s does not necessariJy }lold of every language 
that an official of the British Empire may happen to need. It docs 
not apply to t11e Indian tongues, nor to Chinese, DOl', I should sup- 
pose, to the Feejee dialects. The only human faculty that is tested and 
brought into play in these acquisitions is the commonest kind of IneID- 
ory exercised for a certain time. The value to the Rcrvice of the DIn11 
that can excel in 8poken languages docs not lie in his superior aclmin- 


istrative ability, but in his being booner fitted for actual duty. Un- 
doubtecUy, if t,,
o men go out to Calcutta so unequal in their kno,vl- 
edge of native languages, or in the preparation for that knowledge, 
that one can begin ,york in six months, while the other takes nine, 
there is an important difference between them. But 1vhat is the ob- 
yious mode of rewarding the differences? K ot, I should think, by 
pronouncing one a higher Ulan in the scale of the competition, but by 
giving him some money-prize in proportion to the redemption of his 
time for official work. 
N ow, as regards the second kind of languages, those that are sup- 
posed to carry with thenl all the valuable indirect consequences that 
we have just reviewed. There are in the Civil Service schclne five 
such languages-the two ancient, and three 'modern. They are kept 
there, not because they are ever to be read or spoken in the service, 
but because they exercise SOlne magical efficacy in elevating the 
whole tone of the human intellect. 
If I were discussing the Indian Civil Service in its own special- 
ties, I would deprecate the introduction of extraneous languages into 
the competition for this reason, that the service itself taxes the verbal 
po'wers more than any other service. I do not think tbat Lord 1\la- 
cauby and his colleagues had this circumstance fully in vie\y. ßla- 
caulay .was hilnself a glutton for language; and, while in India, read a 
great quantity of Latin aud Greek. But he ,vas exelnpted froln the 
ordinary lot of the Indian civil Rer\Yant; be had no native languages 
to acquire and to use. If a Ulan hoth speaks and "Trites in goocl Eng- 
lish, and converses fan1iliarly in several Oriental dialects, his lan- 
gnage-memory is sufficiently well taxed, and if he carries 'with hilll 
one European language besides, it is as much as belongs to the fitness 
of things in that departInent. 
l\Iy proposal, then, goes the length of excluding all tllese five cul- 
tivated languages from the competition, not,vithstanding the influence 
that they may be supposeù to have as general culture. In supporting 
it, I shan assnlne that everything that can be said in their favor is 
tnle to the letter; that they assist us in our language, that they cul- 
. tivate logic and taste, that they exemplify universal gramInar, and so 
on. All that my purpose requires is to affirnl that the same good 
ends 1nay be attained in other ways; that Latin, Greek, etc., are hut 
one of several instnunents for instructing us in English composition, 
reasoning, taste, and so on. J\Iy contention, then, is that the ends 
theu1selves are to be looked to, and not the nlcans or instruments, 
since these are very various. English composition is, of course, a 
valuable end, whether got through the study of Latin, or tbrough tbe 
study of English authors themsél Yes, or through the inspiration of 
natural genins. 'Vhatever amount of skill and attainment a candi- 
date can fihow in this c1epartInent should be valued in the exan1Ïna- 
tion for English; and all the good that Latin has done for him would 


thus be entered to his credit. If, then, the study of Latin is found 
the best means of securing good nlarks in English, it ,,
ill be pursued 
on tlutt account; if the candidate is able to discover other less labori- 
ous ,vays of attaining the end, })e will prefer these "TarS. 
The same applies to all the other secondary ends of language. 
Let them be valued in their own departnlents. Let the in)IH'OYEment 
of the reasoning faculty be counted ,vherever that is shown in the ex- 
amination. Good reasoning powers will evince thenlselves in l1lany 
places, and will have their reward. 
The principle is a plain and obvious one. It is the pa)'ment for 
results, "Tithout inquiring into the means. There are certain extren1e 
cases ,vhere the means are 110t improperly coupled 1vith the results in 
the final exåmillation; and these are illustrations of tl)o principle. 
Thus, in passing a candidate for the medical profession, the final end 
is his or her knowledge of diseases and tbeir relnedies. As it is 
. admitted, ho"Tever, that there are certain indispensable preparatory 
stndies-anatonlY, physiology, and materia medica-such studies are 
made part of the examination, because they contribute to the testing 
for the final end. 
The arguIl1ellt is not conlplete until 'we survey another branch of 
the suhject of exan1Ïllatiol1 in languages. It ,vill l)e observed in the 
wording- of the progran1me that each separate ]anguage is coupled 
with" literature and history." It is the language, literature, and his- 
tory, of Ron1e, Greece, etc. And the exan1Ïnation-questions show the 
exact scope of these adjuncts, and also the values attached to thenl, 
as compared witb the language by itself. 
Let us consider this Dlatter a little. Take history first, as being 
the least involved. Greece and Rome have both a certain lasting im- 
portance attaching to their history and institutions; and these, ac- 
cordingly, are a useful study. Of course, the extant "Tritings are the 
chief groundwork of our knowledge of these, and l11ust be react TIut 
at the present day all that can be extracted fronl the originals is pre- 
sented to the student in English books; and to these he is exclusively 
referred for this })art of his know-Iedge. In tlle snlall portion of 
original texts that a pupil at 
chool or college toils through, he 
necessarily gets a few of the facts at first hand, but he 
could llluch more easily get these few where he gets the rest, in the 
English compilations. Adn1Ïtting, th(1n, that the history and institu- 
tions of Greece and Rome constitute a valuable education, it i:s in our 
power to secure it independently of the original tongues. 
The other branch-literature-is not so easily disposed of. In 
fact, the separating of the literature from the language, you will say, 
is a self-evident absurdity. That, however, only sho,ys that yon have 
not ]ooked carefully into ex:ul1ination-papers. I am not concerned 
with wltat the a ]J'l"iori inlagination may suppose to be literature, but 
with the actual questions put by examiners under tllat nal11e. I find 

""CE .ßI0.1VTIIL1T. 

that such questions are, generally speaking, very few, perhaps one or 
two in a long paper, and nearly all pertain to the out'works of litera- 
ture, so to speak. Here is the Latin literature of one paper: In 
what special branch of literature were the 110luans independcnt of 
the Greeks? 
Iention the l)rincipal "Titers in it, with the peculiar 
characteristics of cacho ""'ho "Tas the first to employ the hexameter 
in Latin poetry, and in what poem? To what language is Latin most 
nearly related, and what is the cause of their great rcselnblancc? 
The Greek literature of the saIne examination involves these points: 
The Aristophanic estÏ1nate of Euripides, ,vith critici
nls on its taste 
and justice (for '\vhich, ho'wever, an historical subject is given as 3.11 
alternative); the Greek chorus, and choric metres. Now, such an ex- 
an1Ïnation is, in the first place, a most mea
re view of lÌterature: it 
does not necessarily exercise the faculty of critical discernn)(
llt. In 
the next place, it is chiefly a matter of compilation from English 
sourcps. the actual readino-s of the candidate in Greek and Latin 
, 0 
'\vonld be of little account in the matter. Of course, the choric me- 
tres could not be described ,vithout some know ledge of Greek, but 
the matter is of very trifling ilnportance in an educational point of 
Vle'w. General1y speaking, the questions in literature, which in num- 
ber bear no proportion to historical questions, are such as might be 
included under history, as the department of the history of literature. 
The distribution of the 750 marks allotted respectiyely to Latin 
and to Greek, in the present scheme, is this: There are three papers- 
two are occupied exclusively with translation. The third is language, 
literature, and history: the language means purely grammatical ques- 
tions; so that 583 marks are given for the language proper. The re- 
Inaining number, 167, should be allotted equal1y between literature 
and history; hut history has always the lion's share, and is, in fact, 
the only part of the ,,
hole examination that has, to Iny Inil1d, any 
real worth. It is generally a very searching view of ÏInportant insti- 
tutions and e\
ents, together ,vith what nlay he called their philosophy. 
N ow, the reform that seems to me to be wanted is to strike out every- 
thing else from the examination. At the same time, I shouhllike to 
see the experiInent of a real literary examination, such as did not 
necessarily irnply a know ledge of the originals. 
It is interesting to turn to the examination in modern languages, 
where the ancient scheme is copied, by appending literature and his- 
tory. II'.:
re the literature is decidedly more prol11inent and thorough. 
There is also a fair paper of history questions. 'Vhat strikes us, ho,v. 
ever, in this, is a slavish adherence to the form, without the reality, of 
tho ancient situation. ',e have independent histories of Greece and 
Rome, but scarcely of Germany, France, and Italy. Instead of par- 
titioning motlern European history among the language-examiners 
for English, French, German, Italian, it ,,
oulcl be better to relieve 
them of history altogether, and place the suhject as a w])ole in the 


hands of a distinct examiner. I would still allow nlerit for a litf'rary 
examination in French, German, and Ita1ian, but woulù strike off the 
languages, and let the candidate get up the literature as he cl10se. 
The basis of a candidate's literüry know ledge, and. his first introduc- 
tion to literature, ought to be his own language; but he may extend 
his discrilnination ana his power by other literatures, either in trans- 
lations or in originals, as he pleases; but the exan1Ïnation, as before, 
should test the discrimination and the power, ana not the vocabulary, 
of the languages themselves. 
In order to do full justice to classical antiquity, I would allow the 
present markings to continue, at the rate of 500 for political in
tions and history, and 250 for literature. Some day t11Ïs will b(> 
thought too much; but political philosophy or soci010gy may become 
nlore l3ystematic than at present, and. history questions will then take 
a different fonn. 
In like manner, I would al}olish the language-examination in 
modern languages, and give 250 marks for the literature of each of 
the three modern languages-French, German, Italian. 'The history 
\voulù be taken as modern history, with an adequate total value. 
The objections to this l)roposal will mainly revolve themselves 
into its revolutionary character. The remark will at once be made 
that the classical languages ,yould cease to be taught, and even the 
nloc1ern languages discouraged. The meaning of this I tnke to be, 
that, if such teaching is judged solely by its fruits, it must necessarily 
be condemned. 
The only way to fence this unpalatable conclusion is to maintain 
that the results could not be ful)y tested in an exalnination as sug- 
gested. Some of these are so fine, Ünpalpable, and spiritual in their 
texture, that they cannot be seized by any questions that can be put, 
and would be dropped out if the })resent system were changed. But 
results so untraceable cannot be pro,'ed to exist at a11. 
So far fron1 the results Leing missed by disusing the exercises of 
translation, one might contend that they ,vould only begin to be ap- 
preciated fairly when the whole stress of the examination is put upon 
them. If an exanliner Sf'ts a paper in l
on1an Ia"r, containing long 
Latin extracts to be translated, he is starving the examination in law 
by subf-1tituting for it an exan1Ïnation in IÆtin. 'Vhatever knowledge 
of Latin terminolog-y is necessary to the knowledge of law should be 
required, and no more. So, it is not an exalnil1ation in Aristotle to 
require long translations from the Greek; only by dispensÏI)g with all 
this does the main subject receive proper attention. 
If the properly Jiterary part of the present exnnlinations were 
much of a reality, there would be a ni{'e discussion as to the amount 
of literary tact that could be inlparted in connection with a foreign 
language, as trans1atcd or translatable. TIut I have n1ade an an1ple 
concession, when I propose that the trial should be made of examin- 
VOL. XII.-ll 


ing in literature in tbis fashion; and I do not see any difficulty l)e- 
yond the initial repugnance of tbe professors of languages to be em- 
ployed in this task, and the fear, on the part of candidates, that undue 
stress might be placed on points that need a knowledge of originals. 
I will conclude with a remark on the apparent tendency of the 
wide options in the commi
sioners' scheme. Noone subject is obli- 
gatory; and the choice is so wide tbat by a very narrow range of 
acquirements a man may sometimes succeed. . No doubt, as a rule, it 
requires a consider
ble mixture of subjects: both sciences and litera- 
ture have to be included. But I find the case of a nlan entering the 
India service by force of languages alone, which I cannot but think a 
miscarriage. Then the very high marks flssigned to mathematics 
allow a man to win with no other science, and no other culture, but a 
Iniddling examination in English. To tho
e that think so highly of 
foreign languages, this must seem a much greater anomaly than it 
does to Jne. I ,vould prefer, ho,vever, that such a candidate had trav- 
ersed a wider field of science, instead of excelling in high mathemat- 
ics alone. 
There are
 I should say, three great regions of study that should 
be fairly represented by every successful candidate. The first is the 
sciences as a whole, in the form and order that I have suggested. The 
second is English composition, in which successful men in the India 
competition sometimes show a cipher. The third is wbat I may call 
loosely tbe humanities, meaning the department of institutions and 
history, with perhaps literature: to be computed in any of the regions 
of ancient an(l modern history. In everyone of these three depart- 
ments I would fix a minimum below which the candidate must not 



W E owe an apology to a very respectable class of persons for 
the apparent, but we trust only apparent, and certainly invol- 
untary, discourtesy of the thesis to which we invite attention. The 
late 1\11'. 1\lill, in a well-known passage, calleil the Conservatives the 
stupid party. 'Ve do not call them so, nor their opponents. All we 
venture to assert of both is, that in a universe of graduated intelli- 
gence they are not highest in the scale. The great majority of even 
prominent politicians have just the gifts which make a man conspicu- 
ous in a town-council or a board of guardians: physical energy, IDoral 
persistency, and ideas on a level ,vith those of their fellows. 
:i\Iartineau, in her very candid" Autobiography," has recorded her 
seuse of the mental and moral inferiority of the political men with 
1 Condensed f ro
 Fraser' 8 ],[agazine. 


\vhom, during her period of lionizing in London, she was brought 
into contact, as compared with.the men of hÜters, and still more with 
the men of science, \vhose acquaintance she made. She observed in 
the politicians a much lower type of mind and character, expressing 
itself even in a certain vulgarity of manners, the lo,,
est point being 
reached in all these particulars by the Whig aristocracy of the day. 
In the long prevalence of an aristocratic monopoly, diminished 
now, but not altogether done away with, and subsisting still in its 
effects even more powerfully than in itseIf
 one of the special causes 
of tbe comparative stupidity of politicians in England may be dis- 
cerned. But the evil is inherent in the very conditions of what 
. are called practical politics. The real development of mind is to 
be sought in what 
Ir. Arnold calls its disinterested play in science 
and art. Discipline in the methods of research after trutb, famil- 
iarit y with the highest conceptions of the universe, delight in the 
most perfect forms of expression, whether they take the shape of lit- 
ture or of the plastic and imitative arts, tbese are the feeders and 
})urifiers of the mind. The artist, including the author as well as 
the sculptor, the painter, and the actor, and tbe man of science, live, 
so far as they are true to their work, in tlie society of Nature and of 
its great interpreters. They are constantly in the presence of their 
betters. The statesman lives habitually in the society of county and 
borough me
bers; or, if we restrict our view to the intimate associa- 
tions of the cabinet, of men little, if at all, above these intellectually. 
In other 'words, the finest mind is habitually in the presence of its in- 
feriors, "Those ideas and impulses are to it 'what his daily beer was to 
1\11'. Justice l\Iaule, the instrluì1entality ,vith wllÌch he brought ]lÌm- 
self down to the level of his work. lIe must think their thoughts 
and Rpeak their language. To be oyer their heads, to ùe, as a dex- 
terous politician said of a great philosopher, too clever for the House 
of Commons, to have nobler and farther-reaching conceptions than 
they, is to commit the sin for which there is no parliamentary for- 
giveness. It is sometimes said tI1at the IIouse of Commons is 'wiser 
than any single menl bel'; a saying which, according as it is inter- 
preted, is either an absurdity or a truisln. It may menn, what is in- 
disputahle, tbat the whole is greater than tho part, or, what is im- 
possible, that the average is higher than the elements 'which raise it. 
The IIonsc of Commons can only be wiser than some particular mem- 
ber by following the guidance of some other member who, on that 
particular occasion, is "Tiser than he; that is to say, it is wiser than 
one of its less "Tise members. The saying, however, is intended to 
affirm the position that intellectual superiority is not the truest guide 
in polities, or, in other "
ords, tllat politicians, in so fitr as they are 
successful) are comparatively stupid, a position which we are far froll1 
disputing. On tb(1 contrary, we affirm it as a truth of observation 
and experienc
, and are at the present moment doing our best to ac- 


count for it. As regarùs the proposition itself, it means simply that 
tbe House of Con1llions knows its own mind, such as it is, and, what- 
ever the worth of that knowleùge, better than any single member of 
it; and as a rule the average member who is in sympathy with it will 
interpret it better than the member of much higher powers who is 
above its level. But it is only wiser than its wisest members in the 
sense in ,yhich the field may be said to be ,viser than the farmer, or 
the ocean than t1le navigator; that is to say, in no intelligible sense 
at all. Like Nature, if it is to be commanded it must be obeyed, and 
the necessity of understanding it is, by confusion of thought, taken 
for its understanding of itself: 
The inferior society in ,vhich politicians live, inferior in inte1Ji- 
gence and cultivation, and the llecessitý of adapting their own 
thoughts and aims to those of the ordinary minds and characters 
they have to influence, brings about the decline and deterioration of 
Inen of originally fine endowlnents. It either prevents these qualities 
frolu developing, or stunts them where they have a certain degree of 
growth. Their" nature is subdued to what it works in, like the 
dyer's hand." This evil is in part qualified by another. It is chiefly 
the second-rate order of minds and characters that betake themselves 
now to politics in England-minds already on the level to which 
superiority needs to be reduced before it can be effective. For this 
reason, probably, whenever an occasion demands a hero in politics, he 
has been seldonl found in the walks of professional stateslnanship. 
'l"he national crisis which asks for a deliverer findg hin1 not among 
those ,vho have been deteriorated and dwarfed by the ordinary work 
and associations of politics, but in a man who has lived among nobler 
ideas and associations, and culti ,-ated a larger and more liberal na- 
ture. The practice of aft1tÌrs is, no doubt, a discipline of sonle value; 
but nearly everything depends on ,vhat the affairs are. To manage 
the Houßo of Conlmons, to get bills through cOlllmittee, to administer . 
a public office, does not seem usually to be good training for very 
difficult business. 'Vhen a considerable emergency occurs there is 
almost invariahly a breakdown of the departments. The true dis- 
cipline of public business is to teach men readiness ill action and fer- 
tility in resources. Its ordinary effect is to Ilarc1en them in routine, 
,vhich suits poorly enough even the common round and the daily task 
of business, and which is a hinderance, and ,vhich may be ruin when 
necessities, transcending precedents and rules of office, have to he 
encountered. The fact is, that the training of affairs, invaluable as it 
is, seldom bears its proper fruit, unless the affairs are a man's own, or 
when the consequences of failure are sure to come upon him in a 
rapid and crushing nUlnner. The Inerchant or capitalist, whose veut- 
ures depend upon his personal vigilance; the engineer, who bas to 
deal with overwhelnlÍng physical forces; the military commander, 
who ha
 to contend at once with the not always benevolent neutral- 


ity of Nature and the watchfulcess of human enemies, caunot afforà 
to take things easily. Action is forced upon them; they must either 
succeed or conspicuously fail. In politics, usually, the state of things 
is entirely different. The demand is rarely made for heroic measures; 
the prudence which is taught is that rather which shuns difficulty and 
dreads failure, than that blending of caution and audacity ,vhich finds 
in the way of seeming danger the true path of safety. The educa- 
tion of practice in parliamentary politics is, therefore, for the most 
part, an education in the arts of inaction, evasion, and delay. The 
blame of doing nothing is usually less than the blame of doing amiss. 
A great writer, whose instinctive sagacity was often wiser than the 
elaborated reflections of more painful thinkers, embodied the char- 
acteristic weakness of political training in England when he made 
" IIo\v not to do it" the aim of our statesmen. Lord l\felbourne's 
" Can't you leave it alone?" gave expression to the same paralysis of 
action in exeessive caution and prudence. Politics of this sort will 
attract feeble minds and characters, or ,vill enfeeble those naturally 
stronger. The oratory which they foster will be that of mystification, 
amusement, and exciten1eJ)t. Acquaintance with politic:l1 philosophy 
or economic science will be felt to be wholly superfluous. Even that 
en1pirical knowledge of his age and country, and of the assembly in 
and through which he rules, which are e-ssential to every practical 
statesman, will be little more than the charlatan's or demagogue's ac- 
quaintance with the foibles and passions of popular sentiment and 
opinion. The admiral who boasted that he brought his ships home 
uninjured from seas in which he had not encountered the enemy, and 
the Frenchman w'hose achievement it was to have kept himself alive 
during the French Revolution, represent the prevalent aims of modern 
statesmanship. A ministry exists to keep itself in existence; if the 
ship, ,vithout going anywhere or doing anything, can be kept afloat, 
that is held to be all that can be required. This .fainéant policy does 
not require any high range of intellect. l\Ien of the first order will 
seek careers which afford ampler scope to capacity. If they betake 
themselves to public life, which affords them no opportunity of great 
public work, there is danger of their devoting their energies to their 
own })rivate and personal ends; or, merely to establish a character 
for" honesty" ,viII often prove enough to repose on. A picture, a 
statue, or a poem, does not receive additional value fro'm the fact that 
its author is a very pleasant and straightforward sort of fellow; but 
" honest Jack Althorp's " statesmanship rested entirely on this basis 
of charactCl'; and a late parliamentary leader 1)as been commended 
on the ground that" there is not the making of a li(' in hiIn." A 
career in which character may be a substitute for capacity n1ust, from 
the natnrp- of the case, be pursued on a lo,ver intellectual level than 
those in which intelligence and cultivation and general or special 
knowledge are absolutely essential. 


The natura] and almost necessary inferiority of politicians as a 
class i:5 compatible with the unsurpassed intellectual and moral great- 
ness of statesmanship of the highest class. l\Ien are not wanting in 
the history of any country, least of all in that of ours, and they have 
representatives among us now, who have found or made 'work for 
themselves to do which taxes the very highest gifts, and in the doing 
of which the very humblest and most commonplace allies and in
ments acquire a sort of transfiguration. Their appearance and exer- 
tions mark the high-water point in the national life, an epoch of brief 
but fruitful work, an epoch of civil heroism. But tbe languor comes 
after the exertion; and in such a period of languor we s
em now. to 
be plunged. Even the men who counted for much when they fol- 
lowed a great leader beconle mere ciphel's when the figure which 
stood at their head is removed. 
Apart from these singular cases of moral and intellectual ascen- 
,dency, the gifts which make a parliamentary leader are just those 
which make a man popular in society. The cheerful animal spirits 
and vigorous gayety of temperament 'which characterized Lord Pal- 
merston, or the amusing qualities of a public entertainer which 
marked Charles Townshend (not to seek for living illustrations), are 
what it most relishes-the qualities which make a first-rate host in a 
country-house, or an amusing diner-out in tow'n. 

. . . 



By F. SEEGER, M. D. 

F RO)! the above names, most persollS of average culture would at 
once infer that they are instruments for exploring the larynx 
and nose, and yet but few would suspect what sinlple little instru- 
ments they are-merely hits of looking-glass set in a franle and at- 
tached to a bandle. But, ,,-hen they give the matter a little further 
investigation, they are surprised at the greatness of the benefits 
which bave already been reaped by mankind from the discovery of 
these self-same little instruments. They will learn that only a few 
years ,ago physicians were absolutely in the dark when applied to by 
those affiicted with disease of the throat; and that where then all 'was 
darkness, there now is clear light, thanks to the zeal and scientific de- 
votion of Prof. Türck, of the University of Vienna, who in 1857 was 
the first to successfully use the laryngoscope as a means of deter- 
mining the nature of a disease iu the throat of a patient then in the 


wards of the General IIospital of Vienna, of which latter Türck was the 
physician-in-chief. Justice and the truth of history, however, require 
that ,ve should not omit mentioning the experin1cnts and efforts of 
Senn, of Geneva (1827); Babington, of London (1829); BeUoc, of 
Paris (1837); Baumes, of Lyons (1838) ; Ijston, of London (1840); of 
'Varden (1844); and, finally, of !lanuel Garcia, a singing-teacher, of 
London. 'Vith tbe exception of the last, all of the experÍ1nenters had 
been disappointed in their efforts to devise an instrument sufficiently 
suitable and generally practica1. Their experiments all lacked tlzat 
essential jJl"Cwtical elenwnt which made the subsequent labors of Türck 
and Czermak the solid basis for the grand superstructure which has 
grown up since tbeir time. 'VlJile Prof. Türck at Vienna, and Prof. 
Czerrnak, of the U niver
ity of l{rakau, the latter having become 
interested by Prof: Türck in the experiments, were thus developing 
the practical application of the laryngeal mirror (I1ehlko}Jjf"ragen- 
. spiegel, as Türck named it), Garcia, the no,v justly famous Spanish 
tenor and singing rnaestro, and father of the giîted songstress, l\Iali- 
bran, was at the very same tÍ1ne experinlenting in London, but with 
totally diffen::nt purposes. The object ,vhich TUrck and Czermak 
had in view ,vas to make the laryngoscope available as an adjunct and 
aid to the art and practice of Inedicine, or, in other words, as a means 
of diagnosis in disease of the throat. Garcia, on the other l1and, 'was 
prompted by a desire to observe the actions of the vocal cords and 
larynx when producing tones and sounds. His observations were 
published in the Royal PldlosolJldcal .J.lfagazine and Journal of 
Science (vol. x., 1855), and they constitute the first physiological rec- 
ords of the hUll1an voice as based upon obser\Tations in the living 
subject. It is interesting at this date to turn to his ren1arks and to 
note the thoroughness therein displayed. The curious may refer to 
l\Iadame Seiler's" The Voice in Singing," or to tbe writer's transla- 
tion of Sieber's "Art of Singing." It is ùut proper to add that 
although Türck and Garcia ,vere thus experimenting at one and the 
same time, neither, however, knew of the other nor of his efforts. 
Garcia accomplished his aim by standing with his back to the sun 
and catching its rays upon a looking-glass held in his left halld, ,vhich 
he then reflected into l1Ìs opened mouth. N ext he carried a dentist's 
mirror to the back of his mouth; and tbe sun's light which, in the first 
instance, was reflected from the mirror in the hand, being in turn 
reflected upon the dentist's mirror, served to illuminate the larynx 
belo,v, and thus caused its picture to become visible in the dentist's 
nlirror. TUrck also used the sun's rays, but in a more direct nHtnner, 
viz., ,vithout previous reflection. Prof. Czermak, as already remarked, 
soon became interested in Türck's experiments, and, borro"\ving some 
of TUrck's mirrors, repeated the expcrin1ents. IIis labors resulted in 
a yet further and most briJIiant development of tbe subject, by his 
introdul'tion of a powerful artificial light, thus making us independent 


of sunJight., and enabling an examination to be made at any time of 
the day or 11 ight. 
For the clearer comprehen:-5ion of the reader, I here introdnce cut 

 o. 1, which depicts the laryngoscope, or laryngeal n1Ìrror. At the 
left end ,ve see the mirror, which is set in a silver frame and hack; 
this in turn is attached to a metal stem, and the stem itself is set in a 
wooden handle, 'which latter is merely a m3.tter of con venience by 
which the physician is enabled to handle it with more ease and facil- 



Mirror" J 

G. TIEt>11A;
N S. co.t

, . 
m;; 2;1

'; : . 

FIG. 1. 

ity. The Inirror is made of various sizes, froin that of a cent to 
that of a silver h alf-dol1 aI', and is so attached to the steIn as to 
describe an nngle of 120 0 to 125 0 . 
Prior to the discovery of the laryngoscope, the great obstacle to 
the diagnosis and comprehension of disease of the larynx lay in the 
fact that this organ was so placed as to be at an ahnost direct angle 
to the line of vision. If we look into the mouth of another person, 
we see the back of the nlouth; but if we wish to see the larynx, or 
organ of tone and voice, we are unable to do it, even though its posi- 
tion is just back of and below the root of the tongue. And, even 
though we press down the tongue, "Te derive no aid. N or are we 
enlightened by symptoms of pain or discomfort in the throat, for 
these are not only insufficient, but may be ahsolutely deceptiv<? A 
patient may complain of aches and pains, and may inlagine them in 
the larynx, and all the while the organ be in a perfectlr sound state; 
and, on the other band again, grave forms of throat-disease may exist, 
and ,vith so little of actual pain as to cause tIle victim Jw.rdly any 
. The revolution in thi
 department of tbe medical art may 
perhaps be best illustrated when I refer to the fact that ere the intro- 
duction of the laryngeal mirror, barely twenty years ago, there were 
but two or three forms of laryngeal disease recognized or treated of 
in the text-books on tIle practice of nlec1icine. At the present time, 
the study of the numerous and varied disenses of this .wonderfullittle 
organ, the larynx, has nlac1e Rnch strides that laryngolof!Y has, like 
ophthalnlology, otology, and gynæcolog:y, demanded and received 
recognition as a separate and diF:tinct department of Inedical prac- 
tice, ana has its Rpecial practitioners in alnlost eyery city of size 
and population. "ThereaR, forlnerly, the two or three recognized 
forms of throat-disease were disn1Ïssed in a scant dozen of pages in 
the medical text-works, we now have exhaustive and elaborate trea- 
tises in all of the great languages of the civilized world. T"renty 


years ago inflammation, laryngeal phthisiF:, or, popularly speaking, 
throat - consunlption, and ædema, constituted the th).'ee recognized 
forms of throat-affection; but, in eight Yf'al'S from the first practical 
application of this instrument, the revolution was such that separate 
treatises described and treated of forty and more yarieties of disease, 
such as acute laryngitis and the various acute affections; simple 
chronic laryngitis, chronic ulcerative laryngitis; of six or seven forms 
of inflanlmation of special parts of the larynx; of tubercular and 
syphilitic laryngitis, ædema, abscess, etc. N ext we ,find descriptions 
of the diseases which attack the laryngeal cartilages or fi'amework 
of the larynx, as perichondritis and chondritis. Then follow nervous 
forms of derangement, and then paralytic forms of difficulty. In the 
fir:;;t we have conditions of nervous exaltation, such as spasmodic 
coughs, spasms, etc. Under the second head we ba ve paralytic affec- 
tions of the vocal cords and laryngeal nluscles. These paralytic 
difficulties of the larynx lllay exist in the larynx without much or 
even any Í1npairment of the general health. Then we have anæmia 
or impoverisheJ blood-supply, and finally the varied forms of tumors 
and Inorhid gro-wths, cancerous, syphilitic, etc. I might prolong this 
list yet further, and even dwell at length upon the nlany and ingen- 
ious instruments for operating within the larynx, but to do 80 would 
be to exceed the limits of my article. 
The rhinoscopic n1Ïrror, or rhinoscope, is practically but a laryn- 
geal mirror of a smaller size. The stem and handle are the same, and 
attached in the same manner, at about the same angle, but there is 
the difference of n, much smaller size as corn pared to the laryngo- 
scope, the mirror being usually n,bout the size of a silver three-cent 
piece. Its use is to enable us to see the back or inner parts of the 
nose (posterior nares), and the upper part of the pharynx or vault of 
the back of the nlouth. Its discoyery, which occurred soon after that 
of the laryngoscope, is due to tbe patience and genius of Czernlak, 
and 'was a direct result of the discovery- of the lar)Tugeal nlirror. 
The parts which it enables us to see are hidden belJind and aboye 
the palate, and the office of the rhinoscopic mirror is Einlply to so 
reflect tbe light as to illuminate these parts, and in turn enable 
their image to become visible in the nlirror. In the first instance the 
little mirror is placed at the hack of tIle opened uloud) of the patient. 
At the same tinle a powerful and rIear light from an illunlÏnating 
apparatus is directed into thp patiC'nt's month, and t he rays striking 
upon the Inirror are so refl
('ted upward and forward fiS to illurninate 
the parts we seek to examine, and these are then, fiS just remarked, 
made visible in the mirror. And in this principle lies tIle entire secret 
of the art of making a laryngoscopic or rhinoscopic examination. It 
is simply a dexterous management of mirrors to secure pro})er reflec- 
tion of light, and the consequent illun1Ínation and examination of hid- 
den recesses. 


The rhinoscope also enables us to examine the nasal or pharyn- 
gealorifices of the Eustachian tubes. These latter are passages lead- 
ing from the inner sid
 of the drum of the ear, and opening, as 
already indicated, at a point situated in the posterior nasal parts. 
It is not the province of this article to enter into minute or pre- 
cise detail, and therefore we shall merely add that these tubes 
bear a very in1portant relation to the faculty of hearing. If the 
nasal orifices of these tubes become swollen by disease, or choked 
,vith diseasecllllucns, greater or less impairment of the hearing-power 
results. Consequently, tbe lhinoscope has rendered no small service 
to us for determining causes of deafness, and of curing them, whioh 
forn1erly were but guessed at or remained unknown. 
But to make the laryngeal and rhinal mir
ors available, tbe artifi- 
cial illumination of these parts is necessary. To depend upon the sun's 
rays, as ,vas the case 
vith the original experiments, was too uncer- 
tain. Czermak, as we have seen, substituted artificial light, and thus 
ù an examination to be made at any hour of the day or night. 
Tobold, of Berlin, after a till1e, brought forward an apparatus which 
is depicted in the following cut, and which embodied the most perfect 
apparatus of the time. The cut also shows us the position of the 
patient and of the examiner. 
As introduced by him, it consisted of a common study-Ialnp: a 



FIG. 2. 

is a brass tube, or light-condenser, in which are convex lenses, c, d, g. 
The lenses c and d, it will be observed, are close together, while the 
tbird, g, is at the distal extremity of this brass tube. At f this brass 
tube can be unscrewed, thus enabling the cleansing of the lenses. 


The lens [J can also be renloved at h. 'in is a brass arm having tbree 
joints, and fastened to the laynp. At the extren1ity of this arm is a 
perforated knob, 8, through which the handle of the reflector, i, is 
passed, and which is fastened by a screw. At 0 is a single cha'J"Jdére 
joint, which permits of tbe forward or backward motion of tbe 
reflector-the illuminating agent being oil. By substituting gas 
burned through an Argand burner, and fed from any ordinary burner, 
the apparatus has been made more available, and better light obtained. 
The following cut represents the Í1nproved apparatus as no\v made. 

'I, II 
() I I
I " 
q,' MkU

- - 
- - 
- - 
- - 

FIG. 3. 

It is not necessary to dwell upon the changes. Suffice it that by 
these tIle apparatus has ùeen made much more ready and sinlple in 
nlanagement, and less liable to derangement of focus at inlportant 
moments ,,
hen a steaày light is needed for intra-laryngeal operations. 
It is here that we should call a brief attention to the va:;t strides 
which, under the influence of the laryngoscope, have been eflèctcd in 
the operative procedures upon this organ. All of these an: now made 
by means of instrunlents curved at a direct. angle to the line of vision, 
and in none of these operations does the operator directly see the 


objective point. IIis operations are all made under the guidance of 
the image which he sees reflected in the laryngeal mirror, and are 
comparatively bloodless and accompanied by little or no pain. 
A laryngoscopic examination is made as follo,,'s: In the second 
cut ,,
e see tbe positions of tbe examiner and patient. The patient 
opens his nlouth as widely as possible, and at the san1e tinle })rotrudes 
his tongue. The examiner, theu, with a Emall napkin takes the pro- 
truded tongue between his thun1 b and forefinger, thus gently steady- 
ing it and preventing its slipping back into the Hlouth. The object 
in thus protruding the tongue is to enlarge the cavity of the month as 
much as possible. The laryngeal mirror is next warmed either over the' 
chimney of the illuminator or in some wann water, so as to prevent 
its becoming obscured or dimmed by the brea'th. It is then quickly 
and dexterously carried to the back of the nlouth. A bungling man- 
ner of doing this, by causing great irritation of sensitive parts of tbe 
mouth, causes gagging and even vomiting, and, this once excited, 
all further examination is either very difficult or impossible at this 
sitting. It is not to be taken for granted, ho,vever, that examinations 
can readily be made in all cases, nor eyen in the larger majority 
of the patients. 'Vith 11lany there is no trouble, but there are also 
quite a I1l1mber of patients whose throats are so irritaùle from disease 
as to prevent the introduction of the lar)yngoscope. III other cases 
the patient's tongue has an almost irresistible tendency to keep rising 
up towar"l the roof of the mouth and thus obstruct tbe yie,v. En- 
largement of the tonsils according to the degree of their enlarge- 
ment nUlkes an examination either very difficult, or else, if so much 
enlarged tbat tbey meet and almost close up the throat, nlakes it 
impossible until the enlargement has been reduced. For the over- 
coming of mere irritability of the throat or fauces w ben this per- 
tains to a degree sufficient to be troublesome, various means have 
been resorted to, to produce local anæsthesia of the fauces. A piece 
of ice held in the lllouth, the ,vater being swallo,vec1, is one plan. 
Another is to drop twenty drops of chloroform on a handkerchief 
and let the patient inhale it for a Ininute. With most cases of 
irritable throat this is quite sufficient, and without at all rendering the 
patient drowsy or uncomfortable. Bromide of potash has been used, 
but has not given satisfaction practical1y. 
The exarniner, having avoided touching the back of the tongue 
and of the pharynx with the Inirror, carries it, as already said, to the 
back of the nlouth to an oblique position below the soft palate and 
with the uvula or " drop" of the palate at its back. The rays of light 
from the illu1l1inatil1g apparatus, striking the laryngeal mirror, are 
then reflected in a downward direction and light up the varts (the 
larynx) belo,v. These, being illuminated, are in return depicted 
upon the laryngeal mirror aboye. The process may be compared to 
that of the management of toilet-mirrors to enable us to see the back 


of the bead. In the latter proceeding it is not tbe Lack of the head 
.which we see, but, as is hardly necessary to add, merely its reflec- 
tion in the mirror. 
And at this point 1ve should remark that, while the laryngeal 
examination to one versed in tbe art is comparatively easy, the 
rhinoscopic examination, on the other band, is a very difficult mattpr, 
and calls into play no sruan amount of skill and ingenuity. The rea- 
sons for this are Inainly because of the unruliness of n10st palates, 
\vhich have a tendency to bob up and ùown in a very provoking 
manner. 'Ve shall not dwell further upon this point, Lut briefly add 
a. few remarks as to what this instrument bas done for us. 'VIH:re 
,ve can apply it we are no longer in the dark as to whether a case of 
disease is that of a. chronic catarrh, nasal tumor, Eimple illflamn1ation, 
swplling, or ulceration. In our climate, in which diseases of the nasal 
cavities, and particularly catarrh, are so l)revalent that it has been 
estimated that 10,000,000 of our })eople have the disease called 
catarrh to a greater or less degreC', every advance l>y which we are 
enabled the more successfully to conlbat these complaints is of gen- 
eral interest and importance. J-Iow potent our clinlate is in causing 
catarrh is illustrated in the case of Charles Dickens, wl10 ('ontracted 
it so rapidly and severely as to nece
sitate his abandoning many en- 
gagements and compel bis flight from this country. Interesting is 
the fact, which Darwin records in his" Descent of J\Inn," that the 
Cebus azaræ, a species of Paraguayan monkey, is liable to catarrh 
with a11 of the symptoms found in his lnore human relatives, and 
,vhich w hen often recurrent leads in them to consunJption. 
The }}igher animals, ]ike man, are endo"
ed with an organ of voice 
and sound, but man alone has the supreme gift and facnlty of express- 
ing the ideas and thoughts which his intellectual endowments and 
powers give rise to, or, plainly speaking, he alone 11ns an articulate 
language equal to the expression of most of his feelings and senti- 
ments. Ho\v \,,"onderful, then, it becomes to us ,vhen we study the 
little organ which has the great task of placing Ulan in direct COlll- 
munication with his fellow-beings! And how ,yonderfnlly this little 
organ 1110dulates its tones in accordance with the varying degrees of 
emotion and earnestness! And when we consider that each voice has 
its own peculiarities and characteristics ,vhich distinguish it from all 
others, our interest deepens. And yet there is little or iu fact no dif- 
ference in the 111('chani
m of the various kinds of voice, the yariations 
in pitch being due chiefly to the greater length of the vocal cords 
in the low-pitched voices ana to their shortness in the high yoices. 
Tone, whether in speech or song, is sÏ1nplya result of the action of a 
vohllne of air in a quantity whic}) is regulated by the will of the speaker 
or singer, which, coming np from the lungs through the ",rindpipe, 
passes up through the larynx, where it causes the e1nstic vocal cords 
to be put upon tbe stretch to a greater or less degree according as 


the intended note is high or low, to vibrate, and thus is produced the 
tone which upon its entrance into the pharyngeal cavity and mouth 
becomes articulated, and the sound of which is variously and essen- 
tially modified according to the varying peculiarities of structure and 
formation of the larynx, pharynx, and mouth. It is also changed or 
modulated according as the various parts of the moutb, tongue, pal- 
ate, teeth, and lips, assume different positions. Cultivation of the 
voice also impresses its stamp. The tone-waves, as they rush out of 
the open mouth, communicate their vibrations to the air, which con- 
ducts the sound onward until it reaches our ears, provided we are 
within the reach of these atmospheric vibrations. The difference' 
between a cultivated voice or note is soon dete9ted in the purity and 
regularity with which its sounds reach us as compared to the harsh, 
irregular, discordant waves impelled by one not so cultivated. Jo- 
hannes l\Iüller places the extreme range of the human yoice at four 
octaves, but it is quite seldom that tbe range exceeds two and a 
half octaves. In some phenomenal voices, like those of the gifted 
Parepa-Rosa, Peschka-Leutner, 1\lara, Farinelli, and other great sing- 
ers, ,ye meet with astounding range and power. Parepa-Rosa had 
a voice ranging full three octayes, from so12 to sols; and Flint, the 
learned and indefatigable physiologist, tells that at the W orId's J\Iu- 
sical Festival at Boston, in 1869, she gave the most astounding exhi- 
bitions of the \vonders which this little organ, the larynx, is capable 
of. In some of the solos by l\Iadame Rosa, accompanied by a chorus 
of 12,000 with an orchestra of more than a thousand, and largfly 
composed of brass instruments, Prof. Flint distinctly beard the 
pure and just notes of this remarkable soprano, standing alone, as 
it were, against tbe entire choral and instrumental force; and this 
in an immense building containing an audience of 40,000 persons! 

Iara's voice had compass, with equal ft:tllness of tone, of three oc- 
taves, and she possessed such power of musical utterance that she 
imitated tbe most difficult passages of the violin and flute with per. 
fect facility. Farinelli on one occasion competed with a trumpeter, 
,vho accompanied him in an aria. After both had several times dwelt 
on notes in ,vhich each sought to excel the other, they prolonged a 
note with a double trill in thirds, which they continued until both 
seemed exhausted. At last the trumpeter gave up, entirely out of 
breath, while Farinelli, without .taking breath, prolonged the note 
with reneweil volume of sound, trilling and ending finally with the 
most difficult roulades. 
But these wonderful displays of the power of the larynx must not 
be ascribed entirely to the intensity of the tone, but are in no small 
measure due to tbe absolute mathematical equality of the sonorous 
vibrations and the comparative absence of discordant waves. By t}}C 
degree of tension of the vocal cords which is required for the pitch 
of a prescribed tone, and which, as we have seen, is greater in the 


higher and less in the lower notes, the muscles of the larynx real1y 
become the determining forces of the ability to tsing, and a great deal 
depends upon securing for them the necessary practice, as for instance 
for the execution of rapid successions of tones. And herein lies tbe 
difference in the voices of singers, the purity of the tone depending 
upon the accuracy with which they put the vocal cords upon the 
stretch, .while in those whose tones are impure and faulty, the difficulty 
lies in their inability to give the requisite tension, and of course the 
muscles take part in the shortcoming. A correct idea of the sound, 
height, and depth, of the tone which the singer intends to communi- 
cate, enables him to strike the correct tension as by intuition, and 
carries him along its continuance, and through its purity of modula- 
tion, until it bas ceased. 




W HEN, in the beginning of tbe present year,.! received a request 
to deliver before this Institute a lecture on tIle subject of Evo- 
lution, I was at first disposed to excuse myself. Holding religions 
views which, perhaps, in many respects are not in accordance with 
those that have commended then1selves to Jon, I was reluctant to 
present for your consideration a topic which, though it is in truth 
I)urely scientific, is yet connected with some of the most important 
and- impoRing theological dogmas. 'Vhateyer conclusion is eventu- 
ally reached respecting it ,vill have an influence on them. But there 
'vas that liberality of sentiment in your letter-that earnest de
ire for 
the ascertainment of truth-that I cast aside these hesitations, and 
am now here in obedience to your wishes. 
Not tllat I can do justice in an hour to so great a subject, the 
literature of which ranges through many centuries. It is no new- 
fangled romance, as SOlne would have us believe. It comes to us 
from a venera ù1e antiquity. The theorems it expresses, and indeed 
on .which it is based, have 10ng ago 1)een clearly kno,vn. 
Considering the shortness of the time allotted nle, the Yfist ex- 
tent of the subject, the special character of this audience, and the 
nature of your request, I perceive that it is not an elaborate exposi- 
tion of the evidence in favor of the theory of evolution that I must 

1 The ministers of the Unitarian Church have rf'cently held a meeting of their Insti- 
tute at Springfield, :Massachusetts. They had requested Dr. John 'V. Draper to deliver 
before them a lecture on the subject of Evolution. This accordingly was done on Thurs- 
(þy, October 11 th. Some passages omitted in the lecture for want of time are here in- 


give, but a reference to those facts connected with it that are of chief 
interest to you. I must bear in mind that this is an institute of cler- 
gymen seeking infornlation on a topic ,vbich they.consider to have a 
bearing on their pursuits, and that it is from 3. corresponding point 
of vie\v that I must present it. 

Two explanations have been introduced to account for the origin 
of the assemblage of organic beings, l)lant and animal, that surround 
us. These are conveniently designated as the hypothesis of Creation 
and that of Evolution. 
The hypothesis of CREATIO:Y asserts that Ahnighty God called 
into sudden existence, according to his gooÒj pleasure, the different 
types of life that we see. This hypothesis has an ecclesiastical form, 
tbat the .world, with all its various animals and plants, .was created 
about six thousand years ago. The ,vorl
 was completed in six days, 
and was perfect, needing no ilnprovemcnt. At the close of each day 
the Almighty surveyed what he had done, and l)ronoullced it very 
good. lie brought all the animals thus made before Adam in the 
garden of Eden to receive their names. There was nothiug more 
necessary, and on the seventh day be rested. 
The hypothesis of EVOLUTION asserts that from one or a few origi- 
nal organisn1s all those that ,ve see have been derived, by a process 
of evolving or development. It will not adlnit that there has been any 
intervention of the divine power. 
The former of these hypotheses consiùers each species as indepen- 
dent of all the others; the second considers them as inter-related. 
Creation reposes on the arbitrary act of God: Evolution on the uni- 
versal reign of law. 
The hypothesis of Evolution in its scientific form presents three 
factors: 1. Heredity; 2. Environment; 3. Adaptation. By heredity 
is Ineant the tendency manifested by an organism to develop in the 
likeness of its progenitor. By environment, the sum total of the phys- 
ical conditions by which the developing organisn1 is F:urroundec1-the 
anlbient world. By adaptation, the disposition so to modify as to bring 
an organism and its environment into harmony. This may be aCCOIn- 
plished either by progression or retrogression. 
As to the origin of organisnH
, it withholds, for the present, any 
definite expression. There are, however, many naturalists who in- 
cline to believe in spontaneous generation. In its most improved form 
it occupies itself with bvo classes of problems, the direct and the in- 
verse, considering in the former the effect of the environment on the 
organisn1, and in the latter deducing from the organism the nature of 
the environment. Thus Schleic1en gathers from the structure of the 
stems of certain pine-trees the distribution of cIin1ates at the time of 
their growth; anrl the ancient geographical connections of 1\Iaclagas- 
car and of Australia may be thus ascertained from their fauna. 


After a very long and exhaustive sur\'ey of the plants and anÌln::1Is 
of his own 10caIity, and of all that the power and favor of Alexander 
the Great enabled him to insl)ect, this is the result to ,vhich Aristotle, 
the prince of ancient Greek naturalists, came. In the eighth Look of 
his" History of Animals," ,vhen speaking of the chain of living things, 
be says: " Nature passes so gradually frolu inanimate to anÍ1nate 
things, that frOln their continuity the boundary between them is in- 
distinct. The race of plants succeeds Îlnmediately that of inaniulate 
objects, and these differ from each other in the 11roportion of life in 
which they participate; for, compared ,vith Ininerals, l)lants appear 
to possess life, though ,vhen compared ,yith animals they appear in- 
animate. The change from plants to animals is gradual; a person 
might question to "Thich of these classes SOlne marine objects belong." 
Aristotle referred the primitive organisms to 8pontaneous generation. 
In the 
Iuseum of Alexandria the views of Aristotle ,yere greatly 
expanded. There it .was discovered that animated Nature presents 
something more than a mere connection; that each link of Aristotle's 
chain, if such a phraseology must be continued, "
as the descendant of 
its predecessor, the progenitor of its successor. The idea now lost its 
mechanical aspect and assumed a pl1ysiological one. 
We relnark an important extension of tbis yie,v after t1Je conquest 
of Alexandria by the Arabians. If we COIn pare the order of affiliation 
in successive points, it obviously presents a new fact-progress; and 
Hot progress only, but })l"ogress ii-om the inlpprfect to the more per- 
fect. This view included lifeless as ,yell as living Nature. A In-acti- 
cal application of it arose, to which the de
ignation Aichen1Y .was 
given. There is an unceasing l)l'ogression, in whiëh all things take 
part, to a better and nobler state. In this slow developnlent N atnre 
11as no need to hastcn; she has eternity to "
ork in. Thus, in the n1iu- 
eral world, base and un,vorthy metals, such as lead and tin, are slowly 
on their way to perfection. They reach their goal on turning into 
gold. It is, then, for us to ascertain the fayoring conditions, and, by 
hnitatinO' or increasinO' tbem , to hasten on the ,york. 

The literature of those ages is pervaded ,,,ith the idea of the 
mutability of everything-a proneness of all liying beings to suffer 
transnnttation, with changes in the environnlent, or in the physical 
conditions to .which tIley are exposed; and thus arises a slo-w but con- 
tinuous procC'ssion, in unceasing l::1pse of tinle, to the beautiful and 
good. We meet "Tith this in both the serious philosophical .works 
of the l\Iohammedans, and in their lighter ('onlposition
 of ron1ance. 
They wrote books on the production of animals 1)01.11 by generation 
and putrefaction. They thought that in the germ there exists a latent 
force tending to evolve it. Ibn Roschd says: "There are, as respe:>ts 
the origin of living beings, t,,
o opposite theories. S0111e explain 
their existence hy development, others by creation. The latter is tlw 
opinion of the Christians, as ,,"'ell as of our l\Iotac
ncmin." Abubacer 
T"OL. XII.-12 


accepts the reality.of spontaneous generation by means of putrefac- 
tion and the action of the sun. These philosophers did not hesitate 
to say that the dogma of creation is an inlpossibilitr, an absurd 
opinion, only fit for the vulgar ,vho ,vill believe anything. According 
to these elevated views, living beings are nlerely a movement of mat- 
ter nnder the influence of heat. l\Ian himself is like tbe fhnne of a 
Imnp, a form or shape through which m
terial substance is passing, 
receiying supplies, dismissing ","'astes, and evolving force. As regards 
transmutation, Al I{bazini says that an animal passes through succes- 
sive stages of development, but ,ve must not suppose tbat naturalists 
lnean to say that" man was once a bull, and ,,
as changed into an ass, 
and afterward into a horse, and after that into an ape, and finally be- 
canle a man." , 
Arabian philosophers had therefore speculated on spontaneous 
generation, and the conditions necessary for its occurrence; on the 
development of a germ by the latent force it contains; on the trans- 
mutation of species; and the production of the animal series. They 
had rejected the theory of creation, and adopted that of evolution. 
They had gained ideas respecting the unceasing don1Ïnion of la\\"', but 
at these they had arrived through their doctrine of elnanation and 
absorption, rather than fronl an investigation of visible 
 ature. In 
the religious revolt against philosophy that took place tow
lrd the 
twelfth century, these iL1eas w'ere extern1Ïnated ana never again ap- 
peared in Islam. 

If the doctrine of the government of tbe world by law ,vas thus 
held in detestation by Islam, it was still more bitterly refused by 
Christendoln, in which the })ossibility of changing the divine pur- 
poses was carried to its extreme by the invocation of angels and saints, 
and great gains accrued to tbe Churcb through its supposed influence 
in procuring these miraculous interventions. The Papal Government 
,vas no Inore c1isposecl to tolerate universal and irreversible law than 
its Payninl. antagonist had been. The Inquisition had heen invented 
and set at \vork. It speedily put an end, not only in the south of 
France, but all over Europe, to everything supposed to be not in har- 
nlony ,vith the orthodox faith, by instituting a reign of terror. 
The Reign of Terror in revolutionary France lasted but a fe,v 
l11ontb8; the atrocities of the Commune at the close of tIle Franco- 
German War only a few clays; but the Reign of Terror in Christen- 
dom has continued from the thirteenth century with declining en- 
ergy to our tÍ1nes. Its ohject has been t}Je forciùJe subjugation of 
Iohammec1ans bad thus brought the theory of evolution up to 
that point at which, for any further advance, clear yiews of the opera- 
tion of Jaw in the government of the world were necessary. In their 
speculations in this particular they had been guided by theological 


considerations. These were no,v to lJe replaced by others of a nlore 
definite and solid kind, derived from l)hysical science. 
The starting-point of Christendonl in the theory of evolution, for 
the 1\lobammedans had no,v ceased to philosophize, was tbe publica- 
tion by COl)(
rnicus of the book "De I-
evolutionibus Orbium Celes- 
tiunl." In this the Pythagorean vie\v of the emplacenlent of the solar 
system .was revived. The way for this restoration had been }u'e}lared 
by such books as that of Cusa " On L(1arned Ignorance." lIe conceived 
of the universe as a vast organism, the life of ,vhich is the breath of 
God, and which has neither centre nor circumference, Lut is infinite 
as its mak<?r. Such vie,,-s were largely l)revalent in Italy, at that 
time the focus of infidelity, and there Copernicus had been. lIis ,york 
,vas followed by I{epler's great discovery of the three 1a,,,"'s that bear 
his name. 
.After the invention of printing, the" Index Expurgatorius " of pro- 
. hibited books had becolne essentially necessary to tlle religious Reign 
of Terror, and for the stifling of the intellectual developnH.:nt of man. 
The Papal GoVel'lllnent, accordingly, establishecl the Congregation of 
that Index. 
It was very plain that the tendency of Kepler's discoveries 'was 
to confirm the dominating influence of law in the solar s)Tstem, as ,ye11 
as to destroy geocentric and anthropocentric theories. It..was, there- 
fore, adverse to the Italian theological views, and to the current reli- 
gious practices. Kepler had published an epitome of the Copernican 
theory. This, as also the book itself of Copernicus, was placed in 
the Index, and forbidden to be read. 
The Reformation canle. It did not much change the matter. It 
insisted on tbe 1\losaic views, and ,vould tolerate no natural science 
that did not accord with them. Nevertheless, under the shadO"w of 
the political power it shortly gathered, Newton's "Principia" .was 
safely published. The t\VO great powers into which Christendonl 
was diyided held each other in check. The sectarian divisions fast 
springing up in Protestantism found occupation in their contentions 
with each other. The bearing which Newton's book had upon those 
already condemned consisted chiefly in this - it gave indisputable 
reasons that I{epler's laws are a mathenlaticnl necessity. For the 
finger of Providence it substituted mecllanical force. And thus the 
neign of Law, that great essential to the theory of evolution, ,vas 
solidly established. 
But not alone did the discoveries of physical astrononlY lead to 
these vie,vs. If the heavens were observed, the earth, also, .was exanl- 
ined. There couh,l no longer be any doubt that fossil renlains ".ere 
the relics of beings that were once alive, as Xenophanes in the old 
times, and Da Vinci and Palissy more recently, had affirmed-not 
nlera lusus naturæ j that the ea.rth's strata ,\Tcre not all of the sa.nIe 
age; that in the oldest no fossils could be found; that there hnd heen 


a time when there ,vas no life on the earth; that of the strata sonle 
are of marine, some of fresh-,vater formation; that they are often in- 
tercalated like leaves in a book, and therefore cannot be referred to 
any single cataclysm such as the deluge. 
From considerations connected with the primary rocks, Leibnitz 
(1680) had inferred that tbe earth was once at a far higher tempera- 
ture than no,v, and in fact must have been in an ignited state; that 
it had uudergone a gradual cooling. 'Verner subsequently introduced 
the N eptunic theory, and Hutton the Plutonic. These cosmographi- 
cal theories were, however, of less importance than what was done in 
paleontology. It .was discovered that while similar fossil remains et.- 
tentl over vast horizontal surfaces, different )ossils are found to suc- 
ceed each other very rapidly when a vertical examination is n1ade. 
There is a geological as well as a geographical distribution of plants 
and anilnals-geological as to tilne, geographical as to surface. 

In the works of 1\Iaillet (1748), and again in those of Buffon, the 
old doctrine of evolution reappears. A more formal presentlnent "'"as, 
however, nlade by Lamarck in his "Philosophie zoologique," pub- 
lished in 1809. He advocated the doctrine of descent, and announced 
the propositions now known as Darwinism. According to bim, organic 
forms originated by spontaneous generation, the simplest coming first, 
and the complex being evolved from them. Variations and tranSlnu- 
tations occur through external influences, the environment modifying 
the organism, and as these in the lapse of time become essential dif- 
ferences, Dew species arise. JUoreover, wants experienced cause the 
,,"ill to develop new organs by the Inoc1ification of previously-existing 
ones, and these are transn1Ïttec1 by heredity or generation. Organ- 
iSlllS are developed out of one another; so far from being permanent, 
they have only a temporary existence. 
Though an organism tends to be like its progenitor, it will undergo 
changes by the use or disuse of its parts; by the former it is devel- 
oped, by the latter deteriorated. The changes produced thus, or l)y 
the environlnent, always have been, and always will be, continuous, 
not catastrophic. 
Lamarck recognized the struggle of each against an. lIe saw' 
plainly the influence of heredity, and understood tbe relation of enyi- 
ronlnent and adaptation. lIe defined in tbe clearest nlanner tbe doc- 
trine of transu1utation and theory of descent. According to hiln, if 
tin1e enough be allowed, any modification may take place. 
So far fronl n1eeting "with acceptance, the ideas of Lalnarck brought 
upon hiIn ridicule and obloquy. He was as much misrepresented as 
in former tiu1es the Arabian Nature-philosophers had been. The great 
influence of Cuvier, who had nlade hilTIseJf a champion of tIle doctrine 
of permanence of species, caused Lamarck's views to be silently ig- 
noreù, or, if by chance they w'ere referred to, denounced. They 'were 

V EVOLUTIO]{. 181 

condemned as morally reprehensible and theologically dangerous. In 
this, the authority of Cuvier in regard to evolution acted as the au- 
thority of Newton had done in regard to the undulatory theory of 
lig h t. 
In like Inanncr the views of Oken met with resistance, eSl)ecially 
his deduction that the higbest animals are the result of deveJopn1ent, 
not of creation. 31an, he significantly says, has been developed, not 
created. lIe conceived all Nature to be in a process of evolution. His 
demonstration, that the bones of the skull are only vertebral modifi- 
cations, however, reconciled many persons to a more favorable opinion 
of his hypothesis of development. 
Geoffroy St.-Ililaire (1828) did not. doubt that animals now living 
are descended by an unbroken succession from extinct ones, by trans- 
,tion from form to fornl; that different species are degenerations 
of the same type, being due to the influence of the environment 
(rnonde cunbiont). He thus became the opponent of Cuvier, and did 
very much to break down the influence of that zoölogist. In tbese 
variations be considered tbat the orgallisnl is passive, differing in 
this from Lanulrck, who thought it active. Ilis vie\vs of the influence 
of the environment "Tere very precise: thus h
 thought that birds 
arose from reptiles, through the diminution of carbonic acid and in- 
crease of oxygen in the air, at tbe time of the formation of ('oal; tl1e 
activity of the animal circulation becoming greater, and tbe }'eptile 
scales being transformed into the feathers of the bird. As is no,v 
known, this was substantially a correct interpreta.tion. · 
Though the principles of the doctrine of evolution ,vere thus thor- 
oughly understood, the control of heredity, the influence of environ- 
ment, the lTIodeling by adaptation, public attention failed to be drawn 
to it until 1844, when there was published in England an anonymons 
book under the title of the " Vestiges of the Natural History of Cre- 

tion." In this the author set forth Lanlarck's views, and the work, 
being clearly an(l attractively con11)oseò, passed through a great many 
editions. Very fortunately, it may be said, it accepted some unsub- 
stantiated facts and contained SOlne pbysical mistakes. These tempted 
many skillfnl and bitter criticisms of hostile theologians. Th
and journals were filled with their attacks and answers to tlIem. 
Thus, happily, the whole suhject ,yas brought into such prominence 
that it could be ,vithdraw"n into obscurity no more. 
In the discussions of this book the autl}or macle use of a most im- 
portant anatomical discovery, tI-lat even in the case of tbe highest 
species, man himself, tbe embryo does not simply grow or increase in 
size, but passes in succession through a serie
 of forms, ,yl1ich, ex- 
amined froln epoch to epoch, are totally dissimilar. It baa been the 
vulgar opinion th
'tt after t1)e first nloment of conception 
ll the parts 
of the anilllal that is to be are pl'e
ent, and that they 8imply gro,y. 
The human embryo, according to this, reaches birth very much in tbe 


saIne 'way that the infant passes from birth to manhood. That was, 
I say, the vulgar opinion, but, in laying before our eyes the develo})- 
Inent of the individual, God bas given UR a revelation of the course 
of life by the .world. 
The evolutionary history of anÏ1nals ostablishes that there is not 
tbis homogeneousness of development, but that the higher pass 
through tho forms of the lower; that the mammal, for instance, 
passes through stages at which the lower vertebrates remain fixed. 
All are therefore pursuing a journey along the same road, though 
some may travel to a longer, some to a shorter, distance. There is 
thus a parallelism between individual and race deyelopn1ent; a 
connection between the phases of devrlopme,nt in the individual a
in the species. 
The type of each al1irnal is from the first as it .were imbedded in 
the embryo and controls its evolvement. The embryo never makes 
any attempt to change from one type to another, but sometimes the 
y to a forln and not the form itself is transmitted. 
The parallelism that exists between the career of the individual 
and the career of the raco reappears in the life of the world. There is 
a resen1bJance-indeed more than a resen1blance-between tbe succes- 
sÍ\"e forms through which man himself in bis prenatal life has passed, 
and those that ha,"e appeared in In)Triads of ages in the biograpby of 
the earth. Coolmon-sense revolts against the idea that tbese trans- 
formations aro in the individual due to divine intervention. In that, 
and in the case of the earth, they must be due to natural Ja,v. 
In the year'1859 there was published by 
Ir. Darwin a work on 
"The Origin of Species by J\Ieans of Natural Selection, or the Preser- 
yation of Favored Races in the Struggle for Life." 
In this, and in other subsequent ,,,"orks, it is shown that tIle indi- 
yiduals of each species tend to increase in a very rapitl ratio-an in- 
crease more rapid than that of their means of subsistence. Each ha
therefore, to contencl with his c0111petitors; anc1 hence all must exhibit 
" a struggle for existence." 
But lllodifications are incessantly taking place in the form and 
characteristics of individuals, giving to some an advantage, to some 
a disadvantage, as compared with their competitors. Hence, the for- 
lller ,vill prevail, the latter will succun1b in the struggle. This in 
the language of the hypothesis is formulated "the suryival of the 
And as the pigeon-fancier or other person who devotes bimself to 
the breeding of animals can produce any form he wishes by selecting 
its progenitors anc1 pairing them together, exercising thus artificial 
selection, so if any of the chance-forms that have arisen should l)e 
better adapted tl)an others for perpetuation, they ,,'iI11)e perpetuated, 
or X atnre may be said to haye mac1e a selection. Hence tl)e term 
"natural selection," which has been n1ade to designate this h

. 183 

It is to be regretted that this l)hl'ase " natural selection" has been 
introduced. It is very unscientific, very inferior to tbe old expression 
adaptation. It implies a personification of Nature. It is anthropo- 
nlol'})I1Ïc. TIut Nature never selects, never accepts or rejects, knows 
nothing about duties, nothing about fitness or unfitness. Nature 
simply obeys Ia,ys. 
Natural selection is thus supposed to perpetuate an organism 
after adaptation to its environment has taken })laco. The c1)ange 
implied by adaptation must precede it. It should be regarded ratIler 
as a metaphorical expression than a scientific statement of an actual 
physical event. 
Darwinisn1, therefore, docs not touch the great question as to the 
manner in ,vhich yariation of organisms arises. It only teaches }lOW. 
such variations are l)erpetuated. 

The publication of Humboldt's" Essay on the Geography of 
Plants" (1805) first formally dre"r the attention of botanists to tl)e 
connection bet"Teen the distribution of plants and tbe distribution of 
heat on the surface of the earth. As an ad vance is ulade froln tI)e 
equator toward the pole in either hen1Ïsphere, the mean annual ten1- 
})erature declines, and in succession a series of vegetable zones is 
encountered, merging gradually into each otller, tbough each; where 
best marked, is perfectly distinguished from its successor. In the 
tropics there are the pahns wl1Ìch give so striking a characteristic to 
the landscape, tbe broad-leaved bananas, and great cliInbing l)lants 
throwing themselves from stem to stem like the rigging of a ship. 
Next follows a zone of evergreen ,,
oods, in .which the orange and 
citron come to perfection. Beyond this, another of deciduous trees, 
the oak, the chestnut, and the fruit-trees of our orchards. 11ere the 
great clinlbers of the tropics are replaced by the hop and tlle ivy. 
Still farther is a belt of conifers, firs, larches, pines, and other need}('- 
leaved trees; and these lead through a range of birches, becoming 
luore and more stunted, to a region of mosses and saxifrages, but 
which at length has no tree nor shrub; and finally, as tlle perpet- 
ual polar ices are reached, the red-snow alga is tbe last trace of vege- 
table organization. 
A similar series of facts had long previously be
n obseryed by 
Tournefort in an ascent of l\Iount Ararat. The distribution of yege- 
tation fronl the base to tIJe top of tIle mountain bears a general resem- 
l)lance to the distribution froin the base to the 1)01:1r regions. Thcf:e 
facts were generalized by subsequent obscrvcr
. It "
flS establislled 
that tbere exists an analogy bct"TeC'n l)orizontal distribution on the 
surface of the g lobe and vcrtical distribution at different altitudt:,s 
. , 
above the level of thc sca. E\'en in the tropics, if a nlonntain be 
sufficiently high, a sl)ort ascent suffices to carry us fronl the charac- 
teristic endogenous growths at its foot through a zone of cvcrgreens 


into one of deciduous trees, and this again into one of conifers, the 
vegetation declining through mosses and lichens as .we reach the 
region of perpetual snow. 
In these cases of horizontal anll vertical distribution ,vbich thus 
present such a striking botanical resemblance, there is likewise so 
clear a 111eteorological analogy that it is impossible to avoid the con- 
clusion that the distribution of plants depends very largely on the 
distribution of heat. And, indeed, what better illustration of the in- 
fluence of heat coulLl 'we have than this, that by artificially adjusting 
the telnperature of hot-houses "'0 can cause any plant to grow in any 
But temperature alone does not deterllj-ine tbe distribution of 
plants. If it did, we should find the same species in the same isother- 
mal zones. Througl10ut the old continent, ,vith the excel)tioll of the 
torrid zone, heaths abound; but in .Anlerica not a single heath occurs. 
In the N e\v 'V orid, through forty degrees on each side of the equator, 
the cactus tribe flourishes; in the Ola not a single cactus is to be seen 
-tbe spnrges there replace then). So, again, in Australia, the forests 
present a melancholy, a shadeless character, from their casuarinas, 
acacias, eucalypti, whereas, if tmnperature alone \vere concerned, they 
should offer the same aspect as tbe forests of North .A.merica anù 
As regards aninlais the same remark may 1e made. In tbe ten1- 
perate zone, eastw.ard beyond the Caspian, there are !llen "Those com- 
plexion is )Tello,v; in Europe the complexion is white; the American 
Indian is red. Asia has its Tibet bear, Europe its brown bear, North 
America its black bear. The European stag fincls in .A,ffierica its 
analogue in the ,vapiti, its .r\siatic in tbe musk-deer. The wild-ox of 
Lithuania differs from the North ..c\merican buffalo , and this fiO'ain 
, 0 , 
from the :\longolian yak. The llama in Anlerica replaces tl1e can1e1 
of Asia, the puma replaces the lion. Brazil has had in tiDIes long 
past representatives of its existing sloths and armadillos. Aus- 
tralia, ,vhich has isotherll1al zones like those of otl1er continents, has 
no apes or nlonkeys, no cats or tigers, no wolves or bears, hyenas, 
horses, squirrels, rabbits; no ,vood peekers or plleasants. Instead of 
them it has the kangaroo, wombat, ornithorhynchus, cockatoos, and 
lories, nowhere else found. 
Then, though heat is a dominatinO' influence in the distribution of 
plants and animals, it is by no means tl)e only one. There are also 
other conditions, such as the supply of water, the composition of the 
soi1, the access of light, etc. It has been found convenient to gronp 
all these together, and to speak of them, as I lntve alreaòy stated, 
under a single designation, " The EnviroTIlnent." 
Change in the environment, and cllange in its organisms, go hand- 
in-hand. Should the 'w'armth of the tropics be diffnsed into the polar 
circle, a tropical vegetation ,vould replace the vanishing snows. 


Should the ices of the poles Rpread over the temperate region, the 
reindeer would accompany their invading edge. 
'Vhile the envirollinent thus influences the organism, the organism 
reacting influences the environment. The ll10st striking instance of 
this, perhaps, ,vill be found on comparing the constitution of the at- 
mosphere before and since the Carboniferous epoch. Prior to that 
epoch, all the myriads of tons of coaly substance now inclosed in the 
strata of the earth existed as carbonic acid in the air. B y the no-en- 
cy of the sunlight acting on the leaves of the luxuriant vegetation of 
those tilnes, this noxious gas was gradually removed, and replaced 
by an equivalent volunle of oxygen. A hot-blooded, quickly-respiring 
animal could not possibly exist in an atmosphere laden with carbonic 
acid. Anterior to the coal deposit, tl)e fauna .was cold-blooded and 
slow-respiring. The flora thus changed the aërial environment, and 
, in its turn, reacting, changed tbe fauna. 
It is on all sides adn1Ïtted that plants tend by their removal of 
carbonic acid froll1 the air, replacing it by oxygen, to cOlnpensate for 
the disturbance occasioned by animals. In this "ray, through very 
n1any centuries, the same l)ercentage constitution of the ntInosphere 
is maintained, the sum total of vegetable being autonlatically ad- 
justed to the sum total of animallife-autonlatically, and not by any 
interference of Providence-a fact of great value in its connection 
with the theory of evolution. For, if ,ve adn1Ít what has been con- 
clusively established by direct experiment, that plants .would gro,y 
more luxuriantly in an atmospbere somewhat richer in carbonic acid 
than the existing one, we may see bow upon this condition depends a 
principle of conservation, which must forever retain the air at its 
present constitution, no matter ho,v animal life may vary. 

Cnvier speaks of the inferior organislns as furnishing us with a 
series of eXPQrimcnts made by the hand of Nature, an idea often 
quoted and often admired, but which, })erhaps, is scarcely consistent 
with enlarged conceptions of the system of the world. An organism, 
no matter how high or lo'w, is not in an attitude of isolation. It is 
connected by intimate bonds ,yith those above 
ncl those beneath. It 
is no product of an experimental attempt, which, either on the part of 
Nature or otherwise, has ended in failure or only partial success. 
The organic series-an 
xpression full of significance anc1 full of 
truth implies the interconnection of an organic forms-the organic se- 
ries is not the result of nunlberless creativc hlunc1crs, abortiyc attempts 
or frcaks of Nature. It presents a far nobler aspect. E\Tery 11lcmùer 
of it, even tbe humblest plant, is verfect in itself. Fronl a connnon 
orio-in or sim } )le cel1 all have arisen' there is no l )erCe l )tible n1Ïcro- 
-'=' , , , 
scopic diffcrence between the })rinlordial vesicle which i
 to produce 
the lowest plant, and t})3,t which is to produce the highest, but the 
one, under tbe favoring circnnlstances to w!lich it has been exposed, 


has continued ill the march of development, while the career of the 
other has been stopped at an earlier point. The organic aspect, at 
last assumed, is the representation of the physical agencies that bave 
been at work-the environlnent. Had these for any reason varied, 
that variation would at once have been expressed in the resulting 
form, which is, therefore, actually a geometrical embodimellt of the 
antecedent physical conditions. For what reason is au off:-spring like 
its parent, except that it has been exposed during deyelopment to tLe 
sanle conditions as ,vas its parent. Comparati \Te physiology is not a 
fortuitous collection of experÏ1nents. Our noblest conce!)tion of it is 
the conception we have of analytical geometry. Each men1ber of t.he 
organic series is an embodied result of a discussion of the equation of 
life for one special case. I 
It was a felicitous thought of Descartes that we may represent a 
geometrical form in an algebraic equation, and, by the l)roper consid- 
eration and discussion of such an expression, determine and delineate 
all the peculiarities of such a form; that here it should become con- 
cave, there convex; here it should run out to infinity, there have a 
cusp. The equation determines all the peculiarities of the form, and 
enables us to construct it. In like nlanner, all living und 1ifel(lss 
forms are related; an increase in the value of one condition carries de- 
velopment forward in one direction; an increase in the value of an- 
other condition determines development in another "
ay, and these 
variations give rise in their succession to the whole organic series. 
Nature ever geometrizes and ever materializes. Every organism 
is the result of the development of a vesicle, under given conclusions, 
carried out into material execution. It is the incarnation, the embodi- 
ment, the lasting register of physical influences, the daughter of the 

Let us now rapidly survey tbe changes that have taken place in 
the earth's organisms: 
In the earliest, or Primordial period, there existed of plants only 
,vater-organisms.-tangled sea-weeds. Then in the following, the Pri- 
DIary, came the more perfect cryptogan1s, such as ferns. Then fol- 
lo'\yed, in the Secondary, pine-forests. In the Coal period the phane- 
rogamia developed out of the more perfeGt cryptogamia. Not until 
the Chalk did the higher corollifloræ appear. In the beginning of the 
Tertiary the parth had sufficiently cooled at the poles, climate-zones 
,"vere produced, and the land was covered with leaved forests. Flow- 
erless plants had Leen succeeded by flowering ones, the latter first 
without a distinct corolla, and then by those ,vith one; and of these, 
first the lower and th(-'n the l1igher. 
Turning to the order of succession of animal life-of the Pri- 
lnordial, the forms are skull-less; then in the following, the Prilnary, 
came fishes, first those 'with the heterocercal tail, as in the embryos of 


existing ones. In the Secondary, reptiles, and out of them birds, "
developed; the decreasing aU10unt of carbonic acid and the increas- 
ing amount of oxygen pern1Ïtting that change. Of birds, the earli- 
est had a long, lizard-like tail, composed of thin vertebræ, to every 
one of which .were attached strong, rudder-like feathers in pairs. The 
same formation of the tail part of the vertebral coluD1n still occurs 
transiently in the embryos of later birds. The transition from the 
reptile to the bird is manifested by some of the latter baving teeth 
set in one order in grooves, in another ill distinct sockets. Amol1g 
mammals as anlong fishes the imperfect appeared first. About the 
Iniddle of the J\lesolithic period, out of a branch of the cloacal animals 
tbe marsupials were eyol ved; and in the beginning .of the Tertiary 
the placentals were developed out of the marsupials. The latter .were 
at one time distributed over the whole earth; now they are fast 
approaching extinction. In Europe, Asia, Africa, not a single mem- 
'bel' of the group remains. 'J.:'he cloacal animals, the marsupials, the 
})lacentals, stand therefore in an order of succession. 
Sucb has been the order of evolution in Europe. For its order in 
America I may refer you to tbe recent admirable address of Prof. 
1\larsl1 before the American Association for the Advancement of Sci- 
ence. The general conclusions at which 'we arrive in one case are 
substantiated in the other. 
In accordance with his descent, the cloacal structure exists in 
man in the earlier period of his embryonic life. The separation into 
two openings takes place aùout the twelfth 'week of llis uterine de- 
veloplnent. Shall ,ve not, therefore, infer from the evidence of bis 
embryonic forn1s that be has been developed step by step out of the 
lower vertebrates? 
In the early stages of their evolution, anlphibia, reptiles, birds, 
cannot be distinguished. The first steps of development in all verte- 
brates are identical. lUan passes no,v through the same series of 
transmutations which his animal predecessors passel1 through in im- 
mense spaces of time, long ago. The progress he makes in the lapse 
of a fe,v days in the darkness of the ,von1b is the same that has been 
follo,,-ed by the procession of aninlated Nature in tho lapse of myri- 
ads of centuries in the daylig}]t of the wodel. 
Froln a comparison of their studies en1bryologists and paleontol- 
ogists unite in the conclusion that individual development is a rapid 
repetition of race-developlnent, and that the ))aleontological nlOye- 
ment is to be interpreted by 
he embryonic. Tho connecting links 
supposed to be nlissing in the fornler may be sought for in the latter. 
Individual c1eveJopn1ent, paleontological development, and compara- 
tive anatonlY, through their combined evidence guide us to a deduc- 
tion of the genealogy of any organisn1. The dOlninion of law is 
every\yhere Inanifest. The capricious intrusion of a. supernatural 
agency has never yet occurred. 


Each of the geological periods has its dominating representative 
type of life. Perhaps it may be asked: "How can ,ve be satisfied that 
the members of this long series are strictly the successive descendants 
by evolution from older forms, and in their turn the progenitors of the 
later? I-Iow do we know that they have not been introduced by sud- 
den creations, and removed by Rudden extinctions?" Simply for this 
reason: The new groups make their appearance while yet their pred- 
ecessors are in full vigor. They come under an in1perfect model 
which very gradually inlproves. Evolution Ï1nplies such lapses of 
time. Creation is a sudden affair. 
A striking illustration of this is offered by two of the nlost im- 
posing types of life, tl1e reptile and the mammal. The former is the 
characteristic of the Secondary, the latter of'the Tertiary period. In 
the Secondary, ,yhen reptile life ,vas at its culmination, there were 
reptiles flying ill the air, swimn1Íng on or in the sea, cra-wlilJg on the 
land, or climbing the trees. After this type of life had reached its 
culmination, and extinction began to set in, that l)rocess went for- 
,vard in a gradual anel orderly way. The flying lizards were the first 
to disappear, then those of the sea; they now have scarcely any rep- 
resentative left. The fluviatile and terrestrial ones, though greatly 
dilninished both in nunlbers and 
ize, still maintain a struggle for 
life; but the complete dying out of animated fornls, though irre- 
sistible, requires for its cOlnpletion countless centuries. 
'VLile reptile life ,vas in full vigor, l11an1n1a1 life was introduced. 
It caIne under the lowest forms, the inlperfect orders appearing first. 
,,-rbat does this coexistence of two different forms of life, through 
immense lapses of time-the one declining and 011 its way to disap- 
pearance, the other marching forward to increase-what does this 
overlapping mean ? Not sudden creation, but slow development. 
The environment is slowly becoming unsuitable to the one, and slow". 
ly becoming suitable to the other. 

If time permitted, I would ask your close attention to rudimentary 
organs, for they illustrate strikingly the theory of evolution. They 
are organs existing in an apl)arently undeveloped and uselef:s conc1i- 
tion, such, for instance, as the incisor teeth in the n1Ídbone of the 
upper jaw' in embryos of COlnmon cattle, the rudimentary wings of the 
penguin and dodo, the mammæ of the male mammalian, the subcuta- 
neous feet of certain snakes. In the enlbryos of whales teeth are found 
in the jaw, precisely as ,ve find them at birth in the human infant. In 
the latter instance, we think we see a .wise provision and foresight of 
X atnre, ,vhich does not give to man these masticatory organs before 
the time they are 'wanted. But ".hat are we to make of the parallel 
 of the whale? Shut up as these rudimentary teeth are in the in- 
terior of the jaw, never to be developed and never to be u!'ed, docs 
not that look something like a useless ,york? And wl)y has X atnre, 


in the case of certain snakes, placed under the skin bony representa- 
tives of the extren1Ïties, the movements of those animals being by the 
use of the ribs, and feet never being wanted? 
'Ve may also turn to tbe vegetable world, and there we find rudi- 
mentary organs, excesses and deficiences of develol)ment. As Trevi- 
ranns says, adaptation to the surrounding world nlay be shaped either 
by gradual development or by degeneration, wbich is equally effec- 
tive. The same organ may be expanded into a compound leaf, or de- 
generated into a scale. Development can turn a reptile into a Lird; 
degeneration can turn it into a serpent. Any flo\\"'er may be regarùed 
as a transformed branch-:.-.tbat which might }utve evolved into a leaf 
turns indifferently, as circumstances nuty direct, into a sepal, a l)etal, 
Qr a stamen. 
Rudinlentaryorgans come into existence as part of a general plan. 
They are the manifestation of }Jeredity in the type of life of the ani- 
"mals or plants in which they occur. They prove that the form 113s 
been developing, not teleologically, or for a l)urpose, but in obedience 
to la\\T. 

N o'v I have answered, and I know ho\v imperfectl)T, your qups- 
tion, " How does the bypothesis of evolution force itself upon the stu- 
dent of modern science?" by relating ho,v it has forced itself ul)on 
me, for my life has been spent in such studies, and it is hy meditating 
on facts like tbose I have here exposed that this hypothesis no"... stands 
bcfore.llle as one of the verities of Nature. 
In doing this I have opened before you a page of t]le book of 
Nature-that book which dates from eternity and embraces infini- 
tude. It reveals millions of suns and ,yorlds of surpassing glory. 
AUlong its most insignificant pages are the vast rock-strata of the 
earth. 'Ve have been 100ldng at some of them. K 0 Council 'Of La- 
odicea, no Tridentine Council, is wanted to illdorse its authenticity, 
llothing to assure us that it has never beeu tan1pered 'with by any 
guild of men, to perpetuate their influence, secure their profits, or 
otherwise promote their ends. 
Then it is for us to study it as best ,,"'e l11:1Y, and to obey its 
guidance, no matter ,vhither it may lead us. 
And this brings me face to face w.ith the third division of my sub- 
ject. I have spoken of the origin and the progress of the hypothe- 
sis of evolution, and should now consider the consequences of 3C- 
cepting it. IIere it is only a 'vorc1 or t,,,"o that thTIe permits, and 
very few words nlust suffice. I must bear in mind that it is the con- 
sequences from your point of view to 'which I must allude. Should I 
speak of tile manner in which scientific thought is affected, f;llo1.dd I 
dwell on the influence this theory is exerting on general kuo,vledge, 
I should be carried altogether beyond the IÌ1nits of the present hour. 
The consequences! "That are they, then, to you ? Kobler vie"Ts 


of this grana universe of which "Te form a part, nobler views of the 
manner in which it has been developed in past times to its present 
state, nobler views of the laws by ,vhich it is now maintaihed, nobler 
expectations as to its future. ""1" e stand in presence of the un- 
shackled, as to Force; of the inlmeasurable, as to Space; of the un- 
liluited, as to Time. ALove a]], our conceptions of the unchange- 
able purposes, the awful nlajesty of the Supreme Being, becoIllc 
luore vivid. We realize what is meant when it is said, """1"ith HBI 
there is no variableness, no shadow of turning." Need I say any- 
thing more in commending the doctrine of evolution to you? 
Let us bear in mind the warning of history. The heayiest blow 
the 1101y Scriptures have ever received was inflicted Ly no infidel, but 
by ecclesiastical authority itself. 'Vhen thJ works of Copernicus and 
of I{epler ,vere put in the Index of prohibited books, the system of 
the former was declared, by ,,,hat called itself the Christian Church, 
to be "that false Pythagorean system, utterly contrary to the Holy 
Scriptures." But the truth of the Copernican systeln is now estab- 
There are persons who declare of the hypothesis of evolution, as 
was formerly declared of the hypothesis of Copernicus, "It is utterly 
contrary to the 1101y Scriptures." It is for you to examine whether 
this be so, and, if so, to find a means of reconciliation. Let us not be 
led astray l)y the clamors of those who, not seeking the truth and not 
caring about it, are only chanlpioning their sect, or attempting the 
perpetuation of their own profits. 
:\ly friends, let me plead ,vith you. Don't reject the theory of 
evolution. There is no thought of modern times that more lllagnifies 
the unutterable glory of Almighty God! Renlember, I beseech you, 
,vhat was said by one of old times: "Yemen of Israel, take heed to 
yourselves what ye intend to do. And now I say unto you, if this 
counsel be of men it will come to naught; but if it be of God, ye · 
cannot oyerthrow it, lest haply ye be 'found to be fighting against 
God "-shall I continue the quotation ?-" and to him tlley all 
agreed! " 
'Ve often hear it affirmed that our age is becoming more and more 
irreligious, and that men wantonly reject sacred things of which their 
ancestors approved. But I think we may profitably inquire .whether 
very much of this is not due to the profound changes that are taking 
place in our conceptions of the Supreme Being? Things and acts 
which at one time men attributed to him without hesitation, they can 
attribute to him no more. They ha ye learned to demand of every 
dogma, "Is it derogatory to the awful nlajesty of God?" 
These nlodifications of opinion have had no little to do with the 
progress of the subject "\\"'e have heen considering. Let us ever bear 
in nlind that the doctrine of evolution has for its foundation not the 
admisssion of incessant divine interventions, but a recognition of the 


original, the immutable fiat of God. In whateyer direction we com- 
mune with X ature, the dominion of universal, of e,'erlasting law con- 
fronts us. 
The establishlllent of the theory of eyolution has not been due to 
anyone science, but is attributaùle to the conjoint n10vement of all. 
It is due to the irresistible advance of hunutn kno"wledge. To refer it 
to geology alone, as is often done, is altogetber a n1Ístake. It ,vas net 
possible that Astronomy should fail to maintain her grand position. 
She took the lead in the intellectual revolution which n1arks the close 
of the middle ages. Single-handed and alone, sbe fought and won the 
great battles of the globular form of the earth, the central sun, tbe 
plurality of ,,'orlds. It cost her the blood of some of bel' leaders. 
For some there was the fagot, the rack, the prison-cell, the scourge. 
But ther departed from their tormentors, rejoicing tbat they were 
accounted worthy to suffer even death in this cause. And now she 
'fonnd stepping-stones for herself in the trackless infinitude of space, 
and beckoned her conlrade sciences to come and s}lare with her the 
glorious view she had gained of the majesty of the universe. Anato- 
111Y, both human and comparative, I)aleóntology, chemistry, phy
ology, microscopy, even philosophical history, have given their aid. 
'Vherever anyone science has made a n1arked advance, its movement 
has been covered by some of the others, and the ground thus occu- 
pied secured. As nlatters now stand, all are well to the front-the 
entire line is dressed. 
It often takes many victories to establish one conquest. l{nowl- 
edge, fresh from so many triumphs, unfalteringly continues her move- 
n1ent on the works of Superstition and Ignorance. 
Now, in parting, let us bear this in mind: So great is the intellect- 
ual advance men have mac1e, that questions which at one tinle divided 
Christendom into sects are now far in the rear. Those "Thich once 
separated good n1en socially, are 11assing out of sight. They are re- 
placed by others of a very different order. Among suc]), one of sur- 
passing importance confronts us-the eternal reign of law. Let us 
bear in mind what the tl1eory of evolution so loudly proclaims: " We 
are what we are, because the universe is what it is." If it acts upon 
us, we react upon it. Our conception of the sphere of being "Te 
occupy is enlarging, and we are thus brought into close relationship 
with aU that is beautiful on earth, all that is magnificent in the 
Then let ns reverently con1nlune with Nature. Let us try to raise 
onr eyes from the varying phenomena of the ,,"'orIel, to the solen1n 
grandeur of that silent, that iInperishable reign of la,v that governs 
aU tllose changes; let each of us earnestly address to himself tbe re- 
1110nstrance of "The :I\Iinstrel: " 
" OIl! how canst thou renounce the boundless store 
Of charms that Nature to her votary yields, 

19 2 TIIE POP UL.AR SOl.b-'J.'
CE J.}[O..LVTI-fLY. 

The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, 
The gloom of groves, the garniture of fields, 
All that the genial ray of morning gilds, 
And all that echoes to the song of even, 
All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, 
And all the dread magnificence uf heaven- 
Oh! how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven? " 

. . . 


N o nlore convincing proof could, perhaps, be given of the bead- 
long pace of our modern life, or of the thoughtlessness of our 
age, than tbe fact that, though we still hear of the earthquake, at Lis- 
bon, hardly a word is said of the fearfuUy destructive cyclone which
on the 31st of October, 1816, swept over the Delta of the Ganges. 
Even in the queen's last speech from the throne, there is not so much 
as a simple mention of that disastrous event, whereby a quarter of a 
nlÏllion of British subjects in India were destro}Ted. The after-effects 
of tbe cyclone in themselves constituted a fearful calamity, for thou- 
sands are still 2 dying of disease and hunger-evils the seeds of which 
had been sown in October. 
Cyclones usually OCCllr to,vard the end of spring and in the fa1l- 
from April to June, and from September till November-the periods 
of the change of direction in the monsoons. By far the greater num- 
ber of the cyclones occur at the cessation of the soutInvest and the 
setting in of the northeast monsoons in the fall: out of eighty-eight 
observed in the Indian Ocean, forty-nine occurred in the fall and only . 
twenty-nine in the spring. The former, almost without an exception, 
caIne from a point lying somewhat to the north of latitude 15 0 north, 
in the bay of Bengal; ,vhile the latter had their rise in tIle neigI1bor- 
hood of the Andan1an Islands. The whole east coast of India is 
exposed to the fury of these storms, and from Ceylon to Chittagong 
there is hardly a point on the coast that has not more or less fre- 
quently felt the power of the cyclones, though the localities 'which 
suffer most are the low-lying portions of tIle coast, more particularly 
when they are situated in a bight or in an angle, for wind and water 
are there brought into yiolent conflict. One of the earliest cylones of 
which authentic accounts are extant occurred in 1789, at an unusual 
season of the year-December. Furthermore, it was attended by 
three enormous storm-waves, which flooded the coast at Coringa, 
1 Translated from the German, by J. Fitzgerald, A. M. 
2 )Iay, 1877, when this article was written. 

TilE GREAT BE.I.:"<lGAL OYOLO.I.YE OF 1870. 193 

near the mout 11 of the Goc1av:lry, destroying nearly the entire town 
with its 30,000 inhabitants, and driving far inland the 
hips which lay 
at anchor in the bay. In 1839 the 8ame locality was ,-isited by 
another cyclone, which was nearly as destructive as the preceding. 
The coast of J\Iadras and of Coromandel has again and again been 
the theatre of cyclones, though here the wave is not so destructive 
in its effects as elsewhere, owing to the 8ituation and the formation 
of the coast. In l\Iadras the cyclone usua]]y appears to eXIJend its 
fury on the l11any ships at anchor in the roadB, and on the buildings 
on the land, as "vas the case in the years 1773, 1783, and 1872. As 
on October 15, 1783, so on the 1st and 2c1 of l\Iay, 1872, an enormOl1R 
alnount of shippiHg was lost. In the latter case the greater part of 
the vessels luight have put out to fsea, if the offic('r of the port had 
been at his station and given warning in tÏIne. The destruction of 
life and property caused by the ,vind and rain, as also by the swell of 
the sea, ,vas very considerable. Another cyclone ,vhic1} on October 
15 and 16, 1874, swept the inland districts of :IUidnapore and Bur- 
deran, claimed but few victims comparatively: in l\Iidnapore only 
about 3,000 persons lost their liyes, while in Burderan there were but 
a fe,v fatal casualties. Of all the coasts of India the nlouHls of t1Je 
Ganges and the Hooghly appear to have suffered oftenest and most 
severely from this catastroplH', for there wind and 'water ar
, as it 
were, " forced in to one sack." 
Thut-) the country situated about the nlonth of the former river 
,vag, on October 31, 1831, overflowed by a storn1-'wave to a dif'tance 
of 150 nÜles from the coast, and 300 natiye vilJages "Tith their 10,000 
inlutbitants were destroyed; and it ",-as visited a second and a third 
tinle by cyclones on October 7, 1832, and Septenlber 21, 1839. At 
the nlouth of the I-Iooghly on the 21st of October, 1833, some 10,000 
lives were lost in a stor1u-wa\re, anil 011 l\Iay 21st of the saIne Jear, 
near Coringa, 600 viIlages, ,vith 50,000 souls, 'were swept a,vay. In 
the last-named case the wave rose nine feet higher than the higl)- 
est point eyer before observed, and the barometer Fuddenlr fell a]] of 
two inches. During the cyclone of October 5, 1864, at Calcutta, 
1,500 square miles of country was overflowed, though the banks of the 
Hooghly and its tributaries, and the shores of the islands in the 
mouth of the stream, were protected l)y dikes eight to ten feet high. 
But even though these dikes had been sufficiently strong to resist 
the pressure of the water, still they ,,'ere far 1'1'0111 being sufficiently 
high. On this occasion the stornl-,,--ave rose sixteen 3JJd a ]Jalf feet 
over the \vater-nlark of the spring-tid
, and twenty-seyen feet abo\Te 
the mean level of the sea; still, it attained this h
ight only because it 
red t11e riv
r at about hio'h ,vater. Th
 ,,-ave was noticed as far as 
l\Iehurpore, on the l\Iat.abangha. It caused the loss of 50,000 hun1an 
lives, but the destruction of life .would. 11a ye "been far greater llad the 
cyclone occurred at night., and had the people, as at Bacarganch been 
YOLo XII.-13 


surprised in their sleep. \Vhile this wave was ascending the IIooghly, 
and spreading over the neighboring districts, a portion of the same 
,vave seenIS to have atruck the coast near Chittagong, and, having 
swept along the same, to have overflowed the islands of Shahabazpore 
and Hattia from tIle rear. And this is the cause of the fearful deYfiS- 
tation it wrought, for we shall not err if we suppose wnxes coming 
from t"TO opposite directions to have met at these islands The num- 
ber of human victinIs in the catastrophe of 1864 was nearly doubled 
in consequence of the diseases produced by the multitude of unburied 
dead bodies, and which carried off 30,000 souls. IIardly four ,veeks 
after the IIooghly catastrophe of 1864, namely, on November 5th, the 
coast at )Iasulipatam, on the I{ist.nah-a locality specially adapted for 
concentrating the force of the storm-wave a'nd intensifying its PO"T- 
ers of destruction-,vas overflowed and 35,000 lives ,vere lost. Three 
years later, on November 1, 1867, tbe Calcutta district "Tas again vis- 
ited; but, fortunately, on this occasion only 1,000 lives were lost, 
though 30,000 huts of the natives were swept away. But of all the 
disasters of this kind which have occuri'ed prior to 1876, that of June 
6, 1822, was the most appalling and destructive, anel the only one to 
be compared with that of last October. As is shown by Beveridge 
in his recently-published work on Bacarganch, tbe cyclone had a 
very wide track, extending far inland on the east, and beyond Cal- 
cutta to the west. The ,vave which overflowed the mouths of the 
Ganges and the adjoining coasts fortunately appeared early in the 
evening, and the people were somewhat prepared for it; neverthe- 
, 100,000 human beings lost their lives, and an equal number 
of cattle, and the damage otherwise exceeded 1,000,000 rupees. 
Concerning the latest deplorable catastrophe, we possess the fol- 
lowing data: Down to 11 P. l\I. there ,vas no sign of impending 
dan g er; before midnight the storm burst sudclenlv and without 
01 , 
warning, surprising the people in their beds and dwellingR. Three . 
storm-w"aves swept over an area of 3,000 sqnare miles, containing a 
population of 1,000,000 souls. In a few n1inutes, 215,000 Innnan 
beings "Tere swept off by the "Taters, and there perished. This esti- 
mate, however, is probably far too low; for nearly all the officials 
fron1 whom authentic information n1ÏO'ht have been obtained them- 
sel ves perished in the flood, and many \
inages are known to ])3,\"e 
lost seventy per cent. of their inhabitants. This is undoubtedly the 
gravest calaruity ever caused by water. Three great islands, and in- 
numerable small ones, were entirely swept l)y the flood, as also the 
mainland, over an area of five or six mile8 in length by ahout four 
miles in width. These islands all lie near the mouth of the )Ieghna, 
a river f()rrneù by t]le union of tl)e Ganges wit]) the Brahmapootra. 
The largest of the islands-Dakhin Shahabazpore-is 800 nlÍles in 
circumference, and had 2-10,000 inhahitants, wllile the ot-her two 
great islands-Hattia and Sundney-had in all about 100,000 inhabi- 


tants. The people had only a few n1Ïnutes to think of their safety, 
when the ,va\"e rose ten to t"renty feet abo\re the land. Two hours 
later the flood began to subside, but not till noon of the following 
day could the survivors quit their places of refuge in the trees, etC'. 
As luck ,vould have it, the villages are surrounded by groves of <:,ocoa- 
llut and palIn trees: those ,vho sayed themselves did so by taking to 
the trees. SOlne took refuge on the house-tops, but the water entered 
the houses and rose to the roofs, and carried them off to the sen, to- 
gether ,vith the people upon then1. There was hardly a household on 
the islands, or on the neighboring coast, but had lost several of its 
melnbers. All the cattle ,vere lost. Doats were swept a,vay, and as 
wagons on 'v heels are unknown in that region, all means of COJnmu- 
nication failed. Nearly all of the civil and police officials perished. 
The town of Dowluctor was utterly destroyed. The loss in cattle 
cannot b
 estimated. The crops suffered greatly, but it is hoped that 
"enough remains to prevent a famine. The entire flooded region looks 
like a waste. Still the condition of the survivorsjl1st after the catastro- 
phe ,vas better than was to have been expected. The farmers of that 
region are the nlost thrifty in Bengal; the provisions are mostly 
kept buried in the ground; hence, though they ,yere damaged by 
,vater, they can still be used for food. 'Vherever Sir R. Temple ,,-ent 
he founel the people d.rying grain in the SUIl. Until harvest-time, the 
cocoanuts will be of some assistance. Prior to the calamity, the 
harvest promi
ec1 to be very bountiful; as it is, it "Till be a fair one. 
About sixty relief-stations ,yere established. The official journal 
says: ,,"T'herever the storm-,vave struck, not a third part of the pop... 
ulation, it is believ
d, survives. The islands have only a fourth of 
their farnIer inhabitants. The odor of the decaying carcasses is intol- 
erable, and. a general outbreak of cholera is hourly expected." From 
an official comlnunication, it appears that there perished in Chittagong 
during the storm over 3,000 souls, and between October 31st and De- 
cember 31st, 4,39H persons died of c1101e1'a. Since N ew-Y ear's cholera 
has raged fearfully. In the dif'trict of K oakholly there died in OC'to- 
her 43,544 persons, and in the following three montlls 30,263. Indeed, 
with the exception of the islands of Hattia and Sundney, the deatlls 
from cholera everywhere haye exceeded those caused by the inunda- 
tion. On these two islanc1s the nun) bel' of deaths in Octoùer was 
34,708; later it was only 7, 13û. 
, in the course of eighty-soven years, half a nÚllion of human 
beings have lost their lives l)y cyclones, without counting the 1110rtal- 
ity from pestilence and famine.- .Das .A uslancl. 



L ET us suppose that, having no prcvious acquaintance with the 
Eubject, we were suddenly informed, on good authority, that 
there existed in some part of the globe a race of beings who lived in 
domed habitations, aggregated together so as to form vast and pop- 
ulous cities; tJ)at they exercised jurisJiction over tIle adjoining ter- 
ritor:r, laiù out regular roads, executed tunnels underneath the beQ.s 
of rivers, statiolled guards at the entrance of their towns, carefully 
removed any offensive matter, maintained a'rural police, organized 
extensive hunting-expeditions, at tinles even waged ,,"'ar upon neigh- 
boring communities, took prisoners and reduced them to a state of 
s,lavery; that they not merely stored up provisions ,,,ith due care, to 
avoid their decomposition by damp and fermentation, but that they 
kept cattle, and in some cases even cultivated the soil and gathered 
in the harvest. ",,-r e should unquestionably regard these crEatures as 
human beings who had made no small progress in civilization, and 
should ascribe their actions to reason. If ,ve were then told that 
they ,vere not Jncn, and they were in some places formidable enmnies 
to man, and had even by their continued molestations caused certain 
villages to be forsaken by all human occupants, our interest \vould 
perhaps be mixed with some little shade of anxiety lest ,ve were here 
confronted by a race who, under certain eventualities, might contest 
our claim to the sovereignty of the globe. But ,vhen 'we learn that 
these wonderful creatures are insects some few lines in length, our 
curiosity is cooled; we are apt, if duly guided by dominant prepos- 
sessions, to declare that the social organization of these beings is not 
civilization, but at most quasi-civilization; that their guiding prin- 
ciple is not reason, but" instinct," or quasi-intelligence, or some other 
of those unmeaning words which are so useful when we ",
ish to shut 
onr eyes to the truth. Yet that ants are really, for good or evil, a 
power in the earth, and tbat they seriously interfere with the cultiva- 
tion and development of some of the most productive regions known, 
is an established fact. A creature that cnn lay ,vaste the crops of a 
province or sack the warehouses of a to,vn has claims upon the notice 
of the ulerchant, the political economist, and tIle statesman, ns 'wel1 
as of the naturalist. 

Iany ohservers have been struck ,vith the curio1ls ]nixture of 
analogies and contrasts presented by the Annulosa and the Vertebrata. 
These two classes form, beyond any douht, the two leading subdi- 
visions of the animal kingdom. To them nineteen-twentieths of the 
population of the dry land, both as regards individuals and species, 
will be found to belonf;, :1n,i even in the ,vorld of ,vaters th
y are 



largely represented. At the llead of tl1e Vertebrata stands the order 
of the PrÏInates, culminating in man. At the head of the AnnuloFa 
the corresponding place is taken by the IIymenopterous insects. It 
is very remarkable-as first pointed out, ,ve believe, Ly .1\11'. Darwin- 
that these two groups of :111Ï1nals l11aòe their appearance on the earth 
simultaneously. But along with this analogy ,ve find a contrast. 
lUau stands .alone among the Prilnates as a socially organized being, 
possessing a civilization. 
\.nlong the IIymenoptera the lead is un- 
doubted]y taken by the ants, ,vhich, like Ulan, have a brain nluch more 
highly developed than that of the neighboring inferior groups. But 
there is no one species of ant which enjoys a preëminence over its con- 
geners anything at all approaching in its nature and extent to ulan's 
superiority over the gorilla or the luias. 'Vhat may be tbe cause of 
this contrast ,ve kuo,v not. Perhaps it is nlerely due to the tendency 
of the Annulosa to branch out into a scarcely numerable host of forms, 
while the vertebrate structure, less plastic, lends its
lf more sparingly 
to variation. Perhaps, on the other hand, lo,ver human or higher ape 
forms than any no,v existing have beeu extirpated, as the traditions 
of many ancient nations would seem to adulit. 
At any rate, while the superiority of tIle ants as a group to the r('- 
Inaiuing I-IYlnenoptera, to all other insects, and to the rest of the annn
lose" sub-kingdolll," is undisputed, ,ve are una1le to decide which 
species of ant is elevated aLove tbe rest of tl)e Formicide family. Pos- 
sibly more extended and more systematic observations may settle this 
interesting question. According to our present knowledge the claims 
of the agricultural ant, of 'Vestern Texas (J.1Iyrrnica barbata), seem, 
perhaps, the strongest. This spècies, which has been carefully studied 
1y Dr. Lincecum, for the space of tweh
e years, is, save man, the 
only creature which does not depend for its sustenance on the prod- 
ucts of the chase or the spontaneous fruits of the earth. As soon as a 
colony of these ants has become sufficiently numerous they clear a 
tract of ground, sonle four or five feet in width, around their city. In 
this plot all existing plants are eradicat,ed, all stones and rubbish re- 
moved, and a peculiar species of grass is sown, the seeds of ,vhich re- 
semble very minute grains of rice. The field-for so ,ve must can it 
-is carefully tended by the ants, kept free from weeds, and guarded 
against marauding insects. 'Vhen n)ature, the crop is reaped and 
t.he seeds are carried into the nest.. If they are found to be too danlp 
they are eareful1y carried out, laid in the sunshine till sufficiently dry, 
and tlÚ
n housed again. This formation of 3,. plot of cleared land-or, 
as Dr. Linceculn not very happily terms it, a pavement-is a critical 
point in tl1e career of a young c0l11mnnity. .Any older and larger cit y 
which may lie ,vithin some fifty or sixty paces looks upon the step ns 
a casus bell?., and at once marches its armies to the attack. After a 
combat, which may be prolonged for days, Providence declares in 
favor of the largest b3.ttalions, and tbe less nunlerous conlnlunity is 


exteqninated, fighting litcraUy to the last aut. 'Vhere a colony is 
unmolested it increases rapidly in population, and undertakes to lay 
out roads: one of these, from two to three inches in width, nas been 
traced to a distance of 100 yards from the city. These ants are not 
very carnivorous, nor do they (hunage the crops of neighboring farnl- 
ers. Persons who intrude upon the "pavenlcnt" are bittcn ,vith 
great zeal, but other'wise the species may be regarde<l .as harmle
One cr
ature alone they seenl to tolerate on their
' pavement "-the 
so-called srnall black " erratic" ant-,vhich, as Dr. Lincecum conject- 
ures, may be of sorne use to thmn, and which is therefore allowed to 
build its sman cities in their immediate neighborhood. If it becomès 
too lllunerous, however, it is got rid of, not tby open war, but by a 
course of systematic and yet apparently unintentional annoyance. 
The agricultural ants suddenly find that it is necessary to raise their 
pavement and enlarge the base of their city. In carrying out these 
a1terations they literally bury the nests of their neigh hors under heaps 
of tbe small pellets of soil thrown up by the prairie earth-"'
ornls, and 
continue this process till the erratic ants in sheer despair renlove to a 
quieter spot. 
Concerning the government either of the agricultural ants or ot 
other species, our knowledge is of a very negative character. The 
queens, or rather mothers, of the city are indeed treated with great 
attention, but their numùer is quite indefinite, and, unlike female 
hive-bees, no jealousy exists between thern. IIow their migrations
their wars, their slave-hunts, are decided on, or even how the guards 
on duty are appointed, and the visiting parties selected who go round 
to inspect the works, and who sometimes insist on the destruction and 
rebuilding of any -hadly-executed portion, ,ve are utterly ignorant. 
The outer manifestations of ant-life we have to some extent traced; 
but its inner springs, its directing and controlling powers, have eluded 
our observation. 
It has been remarked, in the Qll(Jrtel
ly Journal of Science, that 
ants, unlike man, have solved the problelll of the practical organiza- 
tion of comn}unism: this is literally true. In a formicary we can de- 
tect no trace of prÏ\Tate property; the territory, the buildings, the 
stores, the boot.y, exist equally for the henefit of alL Every ant has 
its wants supplied, and each in turn is prepared to ,,"ork or to fight 
for the community as zealously as if the benefit of such toil and peril 
were to accrue to itself alone. If t11e principle-so common among 
men-that there is no hal'ln in robbing or defrauding a municipal 
body, or the nation at large, crops up in an ant-hill at all, it nlust evi- 
dently be stamped out with an old-fashioned promptitude. But, to 
understand why the ant has succeeded where lnan has failed, we must 
turn to certain fundamental distinctions between human and ant so- 
ciety; or, perhaps, speaking more generally, het\veen the associations 
of vertebrate and those of allnulose animals. A human tribe or na- 



tion-and, in like nlanner, e. g., a comnlunity ofbeavcrs or of rooks- 
is formed by the aggregation, not of single individuals, but of groups, 
each consisting of a nwJe, a female, and their offspring. The social 
unit among vertebrates, therefore, is the fan1Ïly, whether pennanent 
or tenlporary, and ,vhether nlonoganlolls or polygamous. In number- 
less cases the family exists without cOlllbining with other fan1Îlies to 
form a nation, but we greatly doubt if there exists a single case of a 
vertehrate nation not forllled of and resolvable into families. 
Among the Annulosa this is reversed. 'fhe family among thenl 
scarcely exists at all. I{arely is the union of the male and the female 
extendeà beyond the actual intercourse, all provision for the future 
young devolving upon tl}e latter alone. Among the rare exceptions 
to tl1Ís rule, we may Inention tbe burying-heetle, and seHle of the 
c1ung-l)eetles, both sexes of ,vhom labor conjointly to find and inter 
.the food in which the eggs are to be deposited. General1y speaking, 
moreover, the young insect never kno,vs-never even sees-its parents, 
who in most cases have died before it has elnerged fronl tIle egg. 
Among non-social insects the earwig and a few other Orthoptera form 
the chief exceptions. "There a regularly organized society, a nation, 
or trihe, exists among annulose aniIna]s, it is not formed by the coa- 
lescence of families to a higher unity. The falnily, if it can be said to 
exist at all, is contermil1ons and identical with the nation. This ab- 
sence of a something whose clainls are felt by all ordinary men to be 
stronger than t}]OEe of the state has rendered the successful organiza- 
tion of the" commune" feasible among ants, and anlong other social 
Hymenoptera, such as bees, wasps, etc. "'''''ith them the state has no 
rival, and absorbs all the energies ,vhich in l1uma!l society the indi- 
vidual devotes to the interests of his falnily. "T e thus see that the- 
orists on social reform have been, from their o,vn point of view, logi- 
cally consistent in attacking the institution of marriage and the "'Thole 
systeln of dOlnestic life: they have sought to abolish the great im- 
peLlilnent to the conlillune, and to approximate nUln to the condition 
of our six-footed rivals, and to constitute society not as heretofore or" 
molecules, ùut of atonlS. 
But it is not enough to show that the failure of cOlllmunism anlong 
mankind and its success among certain IIymenopterous insects are 
due to the existence and the po"rer of t he family in the former case, 
and to its absence in the latter. We have yet to inquire into the 
"Therefore of so important a distinction. Vertebrate society, where it 
exists at all, is founded on family life, because every vertebrate animal 
is sexual, and as such is attracted to sonle individual of the opposite. 
sex l)y the strongest instinct of its nature, that of self-preservation 
alone excepted. Invertebrate society, wlJCre it exists in perfection, as 
among the IIymenoptera, is not fornled by a union of families, because 
the great lllajority of IIymenopte]'ous individuals (in tile social sp
are non-sexual, neuter, incapable of any l}rivate or donn'stic attach- 


ments, and deyoted to the community alone. To attempt, without the 
existence of sllch an order, to introduce the social arrangements of the 
ant-i. c., COtll111Unis111-among nlankintl is as futile and as irrational 
as the endeavçr to fly \vithout w'ings: the very primary conditions for 
suceess aro ,yanting. 
It nlay not be amiss to examine a EttIe further in the same direc- 
tion. ....\Inong nlen there is a great diversity both in intel1eet anù in 
energy. The more Lighly-elldo\ved individual, if he does not leave l1Ïs 
children in a hetter position, nl
terially speaking, is likely to transn1Ït 
to then1 his own personal superiority. In this manner the theoretical 
equality assumed as one of the bases of conlmunism is in practice !tn- 
nihilated. An10ng ants nothing of this kind 1an prevail. The workers 
and the fighters are sexless. If any individual is superior to its fel- 
lows in strength or in intelligence-and ,ve have every reason to be- 
lieve that such 111ust be the case-it has no posterity to \VhOln its 
acquisitions could be bequeathed or its personal superiority handed 
do","n. lIence the formation of an aristocracy is impossible, and what- 
ever benefit may result from the labors of such an exceptional individ- 
ual flows to the entire comn1lu1Ïty. In the converse Inanner the forma- 
tion of a pariah, a criminal, or a pauper class, is frustrated, and the 
public is not burdened ,,"ith useless or dangerous existences. 
It is inclisputaùle that this arrangement, joineà to the brief tern1 
of insect-life, ITIUst greatly retard the progress of the ant in ciyiliza- 
tion. It has ùeen remarked that were human life longer our c1evelop- 
n1ent in kn
wledge and in the arts would be n1uch more rapid. Take 
our present condition: by the tin1e a man has complE'ted his ec1uC'ation, 
general and special-has fully developed his own mental faculties and 
mastered the position of the subject he has selected-he will be rarely 
less than five-and-twenty years of age. By the time he is fifty, as a 
rule, his power of origination begins to decline, and the remainder of 
his life is spent more in completing and rounding off the work of his · 
younger days than in rnaking fresh inroads into the unknown. Did 
our fnll vigor of intellect extend over a century, instead of ov
r a 
fourth of that duration, we should unf10ubtedly effect much more. 
On the other hand, a shortening of our time of activity would have a 
powerfully retarding effect on the career of discovery and invention. 
Can ,ve, then, ,yonder if the short-lived ant and bee sometimes appear 
to us stationary in their civilization? But this very brevity of the 
career of each individual acts decidedly in favor of the preser\patioH 
of social equality. If either ant or man is disposed to rise or to fall, 
then the shorter the time during which such rise or fall is possible the 
better will the uniform level of society be preserved. To })revpnt Inis- 
understanding we must rernark that castes ,yith a corresponding dif- 
ference of dutie
, and, accorc1ing to some authorities, with a diversity 
of honor also, do occur in the ant-hill; but within each caste all are 
on an exactly equal footing. 



If we compare tho zoölogical rank of our" six-footed riYa}
" with 
our own, \VO must, from ono point of vicw, concede them a lJig11er po- 
sition. The more perfectly de\"elol)ed is any animal the more do \yO 
find it possess
cl of an especial organ for the discharge of every func- 
tion. In like manner it 111ay be contended that, as a species rises in 
the scale of being, duties once indiscrin1Ïnately perfornled by all the 
species are assignell to distinct individuals. Among the htlll1bler 
groups of the animal kingc10nl the whole reproductive task is ppr- 
fornled by all menlbers of the species. In other words, hernlaph- 
roditism prevails. As ,ve ascend to higher groups the Rexes are 
separated, and tbe species becoll1es dimorphous. This arrangement 
prevails :1nlong all vertebrate animals, and among a larbc nUljority 
of anllulose species. "\Ve find here already, however, one of thoso 
contrasts which so often prevail between these two great Eerics of 
beings. Among vertebrates, and especially in n1al1kind, the fUllction 
of the female sex scenlS limited to the l1urturc-intra- and extra- 
uterine-of the young. Were man immortal and non-re}Jroductive, 
WOnl:1U's 'raison d'être ,,'ould disappear. .Among Annulosa the very 
reverse holds good; tbe fenlales are as a rule larger, stronger, aHd 
1110re long-lived, while the tnsk of the 11lale seems limited to the 
fecundation of the ova. This being oncc. performed, his part is 
played. Alllong butterflies, n10t]1s, and ants, his death sl)eedily 
follows, while a11JOng spiders he is generally killed aud devoured by 
his l)(,
tter-half. This predominance of the fen1ale sex s
erns to pre- 
pare the ,yay for the phenomenon which we recognize among the 
sociallIynlenoptcra. IIere the spedes become no longer dimorphous, 
but polynlorphous. In other words, in addition to the lllales and 
fen1ales, whose task is 110W exclusively c011fincd to the 111ere function 
of reproduction, there arC', as \YO have seen, one or 1110re forms of 
females, sexually abortive, but so developed in other rCS}lects as to 
form the castes of workers and fighters, uIJon WhOlll 1 he real goyern- 
ment of the ant-hill devolves, ,,
ho provide for its enlargt'ment, ,yell- 
being, and defense. 
It lllay, ,ve think, be legitimately contended that the develop- 
ment of a distinct working order is a Ft<,]) in advance similar to tlIat 
taken hy tlw distribution of the sexual functions among two different 
individuals-that the polYlnorphic species is higher than the din10r- 
phic, just as t1lC dimorphic is higher than tho lllonomorphic. 
Of the development of a neuter order alllOl1g vertebrate aninlals, 
and {'specially among nlankind, ,,'e know nothillg which can 11e fairly 
called a traco. TIut, in cornparing the two civilizatiol1fo:, that of 111nn 
and that of the ant, we nln
t be 
trn('k ,,'ith the Ü1ct that the fornler 
has from tilDO to tinle iUlitated this ppcnliar featnr{'. TIlC attempts, 
howFvcr, ,vhether made hy the devotion of certain classes to celibaey 
or by actual ema
cnlatioll, ha YC heen as unFuccessful as the Ellanl 
elC'phantR of Scn1iral1}i
. CeIibntes retnining tl1e sexual appetite, but 


deprived of its legitimate exercise, have always been a disturbing 
force in society. On the other hand, emasculation, instead of-as 
might llave been perhap
, a priori, anticipated-increasing the po"
of body and n1Ïnd, enfeebles both. 'Ybat would be the 1110ral and 
social effects of tbe appearance of a neutral fornl of the human species 
analogous to the workiug bee or ant it is impossible to foresee; but 
,ye may venture to surn1Ïse tbat they would not be entirely desirable. 1 
It may be suggested that the il1stitution of caste among so nIany 
human races is an adumbration of the l1atlual castes existing among 
social insects, each devoted to some especial function. 
The remarkable intelligence of ants has froill very early age.s 
made a profound impression on 111all. Cicer
 considered theln })OS- 
sessed of " Inind, reason, and men10ry." 2 To the present flay those 
".ho watch the forn1icary, not in order to defend prepossessions, but 
to arrive at truth, con1e to the same conclusion, unpopular tllouglJ it 
Inay be. 'Ve sOllletimes wonder ,,
hether ants, like men, consider 
thClllselves the sole reasonable beings on the globe, prove their posi- 
tion by sound a prio'ri argulnents, and accuse those ,yho take a differ- 
ent view of " skepticism" or " agnosticism." 
"Yhen it is no longer l)ossihle to meet with a flat denial all in- 
stances of correct inferences dra wn and of happy contrivances adopted 
by brutes in general and by ants in particular, the writers ,vho still 
claim reason as the exclusive prerogative of man bring forward a 
curious objection: they urge that we should likewise collect proofs of 
anilnal folly and stupidity, and se
m to thi.nk that these latter in- 
stances would nullify any conclusion t}Jat n1Ïght be drawn from the 
former. That instances are numerous w"here some animal fails to 
draw an inference-very obvious, in our vie,v-or to adopt some yery 
simple expedient, ,ye do not deny, and that their conduct hence seems 
strangely checkered, "
e admit. 'Vhat, e. g., can seem more incon- 
sistent than tbe follo\ving caf.:es? Sir J ol1n Luhbock, to test the in- 
telligence of ants, placed a strip of paper so as to serve as a bridge 
or ladder for S0111C ants which were carrying their pupæ by a very 
roundabout ,vay. The slip ,vas, howeyer, purposely left 8110rt of its 
destination by some small fraction of an il1ch. It would have been 
very easy for tbe ants eithcr to ]ulve dropped themselves and their 
burden clown this short distance, or to have handed the pupæ to the 
other ants below, or to have piled up a small amount of earth from 
below., so as to meet the slip of paper, and thus make tlle descending- 
road continuous. They adopted, howeyer, none of these expedients, 
but continued to travcl the roundabout "

I It is very remarkable that among the Termites, which, though improperly cailed 
"white ants," belong to a different order of insects, neuters exist. These, however, do 
not appear to ùe imperfectly developed females. It would thus seem that among insects 
sorial organizJ.tion necessitates a class of sexless individuals. 
2 ")Iens, ratio, et memoria." 


20 3 

On the other hand, 1\11'. Tennant tel1s ns that FO,}
'Jnica s'Jnaragdina, 
in forming its dwellings by cementing together the leaves of growing 
trees, adopts the following nlethod: A line of ants, standing aJong 
the edge of one leaf, seize hold of another, and bring its margin in 
contact with the one on which they are posted. They tIlen hold both 
together with their mandibles, while their companions glue them fast 
with a kind of adhesive paper which they prepare. If the two !<?aves 
are so far apart that a single ant cannot reach from one to another, 
they form chains ,vith their bodies to span over the gap. The same 
author also informs us that certain Ceylonese aIlts, when carrying 
sand or dry earth for the construction of their nests, glue several 
grains together so as to fornl a lunlp as large as they can carry, and 
thus econoInize titne and labor. 
l\I1'. Belt, in bis " Naturalist in Kicaragua" (page 27), gives the 
. fol1owing account of the manner in 'w}1Ïch tIle Ecitons, or foraging 
ants of Central and South America, deal 'with ,,,hat may be called 
engineering difficulties: "I once saw a wide column trying to pass 
along a cl'ulnbling, nearly perpendicular slope. They' ,vonld haye 
got very slo,vly over it, and many of them would have fallen, but 
a number having secured their hold and reaching to each otJler re- 
mained stationary, and over thenl the main column pasEcd. Another 
tilne th0Y were crossing a water-course along a smaH branch, not 
thicker than a goose-quill. They widened this natural bridge to tlHce 
times its width, by a number of ants clinging to it al1d to each other 
on each side, o"er which the column passed three or four deep; where- 
as, except for this expedient, they would have had to pal's over in 
single file, and treble the time would have been ûonsullled." 
Again, in Eciton legionis, according to 1\lr. Bates, ,yllcn digging 
mines to get at another species of ant whose nests they were attack- 
ing, the workers were divided into parties, "one set excavating and 
another set carrying a,vay the grains of earth. 'Yhen the shafts 
hecame ratlJer deep the mining parties had to clin1 b up the sides each 
time they wished to cast out a pel1et of earth, but their .work ,vas 
lightened for tlIem by cornrades who stationed themselves at the 
mouth of the shaft and relieved them of their burdens, carrying the 
particles, ,vit h an appearance of foresight wl1Ïch quite staggered TIle, 
a sufficient distance from the edge of the hole to prevent theln fronl 
roBing in again." 
What, then, are ,ve to learn fronl thes(l somewlwt inconsistent 
cases? Are we to conclude that Sir John Lubbock, 1\11'. Belt, l\Jr. 
Bates, and 1\11'. Tennant, n1ust be careless and inconlpetent observers? 
Assuredly not. Are .we to believe that ants are stupid, irrational 
creatures, and that ,vhen thcy do anything right it must be regarded 
as an accident or ascribed to that convenient phanton1, instinct? 
Still les
: the well-established cases ,vhich are on reco
'd agree badly 
with cither of these suppositions. The true explanation of the diffi- 


culty is tlwt, like all finite intelligences, ants are not equally wise on 
all occasions. SOlnetimes they hit upon the best expedient for evad- 
ing or overcolning an obstacle, but sOlnetinlcs, under circun1stances 
not 1l10l"e COlllplicatec1, they fail. This is doubtless the case with nlan 
hilnself. If cantem plated hy some being enùowed with higl1er rea- 
soning powers, ,vould he, not be pronounced a nlost curiously incon- 
sistent mixture of sagacity and stupidity, now solying prohlems of 
no small difficulty, and now standing helpless ill presence of others 
even Inorc simple? That such is in reality the case witL man is 
proveù by the history of discoveries, and of their reception. Do we 
not always say \rhen "
e hear of any great step, whether in scientÏ':fic 
theory or in the practical arts, "Ho\v sinlp\e, ho,v natural! " Yet, 
simple and natural as it is, all sorts and conditions of nlen lived for 
ceuturieR ,vithout opening their eyes to it. To tbose ,vho, on the 
score of incidental blunders and stupidities, deny the rationality of 
:J.ninlals, we would hold up the e\
er-nlemorable "egg" of Columbus, 
and (?xclaiIll, " 'Vhat, gentlenlen, do you expect the ant to be be more 
uniforlllly and consistently intelligent than Jour erudite selves?" 
Concerning the language of ants no sll1all diversity of opinion has 
prevailed; but among actual observers the general conclusion is that 
these tiny creatures can impart to each other information of a very 
d('fillite character, and not merely general signals, such as those of 
alann. It has been found that ants fetchet1 by a messenger for some 
especial purpose seem, when they arrive at the spot, to have some 
knowledge of the task which is awaiting them, and set about it at 
once ,vithout any preliminary investigation. The cases ,yhich ,ye 
quote elsewhere froln 
Ir. Belt are very conclusive on this point. In 
order to decide whether ants are really fetched to assist in tasks be- 
yond the strength of anyone of their number, Sir John Lubbock in- 
stituted a very interesting and decisiye experÏ1nent. It is "T
ll known 
that if the lar\"::o of ants are taken out of the nest, the workers never 
rest till they have fetched tben1 back. Sir John I
ubbock took a nUll1- 
bel' of larvro out of his experiInental forn1icary, and placed them aside 
in two parcels very unequal in nUlnb0r. Each of these lots ,vas soon 
ùiscovered by an ant, who at on('e fell to work to carry the larvæ 
back to the nest, and was soon joined by others, eager to assist. The 
observer reasoned thus: If these ants haye come to the spot by acci- 
dent, it is probable that the number who arriye at each lot will be 
approximately equal. On the other IJand, if they are intentionally 
fetched to assist in removing the larvæ, the number in each case ,viII 
most likely bear some proportion to the amount of work to be done. 
 result \yas, that the large heap of larvæ was visited hy about three 
times fiS many ants as the small one. Hence the inference is plain 
that ants can call assistance to any task in "r]1Ích they are engaged, 
that they can fornl SOlne estitnate of the aU10unt of labor that will 
be requiretl, and can make their \.iews in son1e 111a1111('r known to their 


20 5 

companions. The manner in which, 'when on the 111arc}1, tlH:y are 
directed by their officers, and the promptitude and )Jn
cision with 
which a column is sent ont to seize any booty indicated by scouting- 
part ies, show likewise a completenf'ss and precision of langu::tge very 
different from anything "Te observe in quadrupeds and birds. 
But as to the nature of this language, ,vhich 
Ir. Dolt rightly cans 
" wonderful," ,ve are as yet very mnch in the dark. Sounds audiLle 
to onr ears they scarcely can be said to elnlt. 'Their principal organs 
of speech are doubtless the antennæ: with these, wh
n seeking to 
communicate intelligence, they touch each other in a variety of ways. 
There can be no doubt that, with organs so flexible and so sensitive, 
an interchange not Inerely of emotions but of iòeas must be easy. 
But there is another channel of communication which d('ser\'es to 
be carefully inyestigated. "T e kno\v tl1at the language of yertebrates, 
or at least of their higher sections, turns on the production or recog- 
. nition of sounds. "That if the language of social iusects should be 
found to depend, in part at least, on the production and recognition 
of odors? 'Ve have already fun l:;roof that their sense of smell is de- 
veloped to a degree of acuteness and delicacy which utterly passes 
our conceptions of possibility, and to ,vhieh the scent of the keenest 
hound presents but a very faint approximation. Collectors of Lepi- 
doptera are ,veIl a,vare that if a virgin female 1110th of certain species 
is incl03ed in a box, males of the same species ,vill Inake their ap- 
pearance from distances ,yl1Ích may ùe relatively pronounced pro- 
digious. As soon, ho,vever, as the decoy J1as been fecundated, this 
attraction ceases. This is only one anlong the nlany phenonlena 
which testify to the ,yonderfnl olfactorr po,vers of insects. So Inuch, 
then, for the recognition of odors. Nor is their production anlong in- 
sects a Inatter open to doubt. Scents, distinctly perceptiLle even to 
our duller organs, are given off hy nlany. The pleasant odor of the 
nlusk-beet1e, and the offensh-e smells of the ladybirds, the COlnn10n 
gronnd-beetles, the oil-beetles, the Spanish fly, and the" devil's coach- 
horse "-hence technically named Gærius olens-are known to every 
tyro in entomology. The next question is, .Are these odors at all 
under the control of the insect, and capable of being produced, 
pressed, or modified at will? 'Ve have noticed many instances where 
the odors of insects hecame more intense under thp influence of anger 
or al
rm. A peculiarly pungent odor is 
aid to issue fronl a beehive 
if the innlates are becolning excited. 
The possibility of a scent-Iangunge anlong insects must therefore 
be conceded. :IUr. Belt thinks that the Eeitons 11lark ont a track which 
is to be fol1oweù hy their conlradf's by imparting to it S0l11e )1ecnliar 
odor. lIe says: "At one point I noticed a sort of assemhly of about 
a dozen individuals that appeared in consultation. Suddenly one ant 
If'ft the conclave, and ran with great speed up tIle perpendicular face 
of the cutting without stopping. It ,,"as follo,,"ed hy ot]1ers, which, 


ho\veyer, did not keep straight on like the first, but ran a short way, 
then returned, and then again followed a little farther than the first 
time. They were evidently scenting the trail of the pioneer, and 
nutking iL permanently recognizable. These ants follo'wed the exact 
line taken by the first one, though it "Tas far out ðf sight. 'Yher- 
ever it had nutde a slight détour, they did 
o like,vise. 1 scraped with 
my knife a small portion of the clay on the trail, and the ants ,vere 
cOlllpletely at fault for a tilue ,vhich ,yay to go. Those ascending 
and those descending stopped at tl)e scraped portio}], and made short 
circuits until they hit the scented trail again, when all their hesi- 
tation vanished, and they ran up and down it with the greatest con- 
That anlong groups like the Ecitons, in \vhich the sense of sight 
is Ï1uperfect, or even totaHy wanting, enhanced delicacy of scent and 
touch nlust be required in cornpensation, may be taken as self-evident. 
'Yith the language of ants, and especially '''1th a possible sceut-lan- 
guage, is connected the faculty by Ineans of which denizens of the 
s:tme city recognize each other under circulllstances of grea
culty. In the battles which take place between two nations of the 
same species, how, sa,'e by scent, do tbe tiny warriors distinguish 
friend froln foe? 'Ye are told by some older observers that if an 
ant is taken from the nest, and restored after the lapse of several 
mOllths, it is at once received by its companions and caressed, ,y))ile 
a stranger ant introduced at the same time is rejected, and generally 
killed. To a great extent this has been coufinned 1)y recent investi- 
gators. The returned exile was not indeed cal'e

ecl, but was quietly 
allowed to enter the nest, ,vhile a stranger "as at once greeted with 
hostile demonstr3.tions. It has been nlaintained that this po,ver of 
recognition is destroyed by ,yater, and that ants will treat a comrade 
as an enenlY if he has receivel1 a drenching. This, however, is eyi- 
delltly a n1Ïstake. To prevent rain froln penetrating into the nests . 
of the agricultural ant, the guards block np the doorways with their 
bodies, and are often drowned at their posts. TInt their companiûns 
are not thereby prevented from recognizing them, as they try to bring 
the ùeacl bodies to life.- Quarterly Journal of Science. 



 of the various conjectures "Thich have been 
advanced in explanation of so ever-fan1Ïliar a sensation :-IS that of 
,varmth or heat, "Tonld neither prove particularly feasil)le no)' inter- 
estino-. for doubtless c1nrino- the vast P eriod of tinle which has ela p sed 
n' :::! 
] Introduction to an unpublished work on Thermo-Dynamics. 


since the enunciation of atomic doctrines by the old Greek philoso- 
phers-and from their great suggestiveness-the speculations of re- 
flective n1Înds have ,vand(\red over 'wellnigh every in1aginable hy- 
pothesis, and approxilnated with greater or less n1Ïnuteness to the 
views 'which arc adnlÍtted now, and which ,ve think to be supported 
by experiment. Thus, as a ca::;e in point, we l11ay refer to Galileo/ 
whose resource of observation could have scarcely been superior to 
Archiu1edes's, and who would seem to have conceived of an increase 
of heat as only a Illore elementary conùition of material fSuLstanc<;, in 
,vhich the more or less considerable destruction of molecular bonds 
allowed the individual partides of a body to move among thenH,clves 
with a more unconstrained vibration. 
But very fe\v anlong the countless suppositions w}}ich "-0 might 
thus succeed in raking up, however curious or predictive in then1- 
selves, would have the slightest bearing on our present suhject. De- 
. veloped only to the extent demanded by the superiority of the scho- 
lastic mind, they would be found in general mere arbitrary, ,vl1imsical 
assertions; untried and unsupported by critically-devised experin1ents. 
'Vith the refonnatioll of philosophy does our Jtistorical sketch then 
. properly begin, and, moreover, "yith . Lord Bacon as its founder; for, 
in illustrating the proper method of establishing a philosol)hical doc- 
trine, he forever identified himself ,vith the dyn
lInic theory, by s})O,y- 
ing that the most con1prehensive explanations 'were afforded by con- 
sidering heat to be an intestine nlotion of the constituent particles of a 
body. Systenlatically reviewing the known properties and effects of 
heat-the only practicable course open to hÏ1n-he concluded ill t}w 
following menlorable and oft-quoted passages: 2 
"Atque l1æc sit Prima Vindemiatio, sive Interpretatio incl10ata de Forma 
Calidi, facta per Permission em Intellectus. 
" Ex Vindemiatione autem ista Prima, Forma sive definitio vera Ca]oris (ejus 
qui est in ordine ad universun1), non relativus tantummodo ad sensum talis est, 
brevi verborum ,complexu: Calor est 'mot1.<.S eJ-'pansi'C'Us, coltibitus, et nitens pe1" 
partes minorcs." 

"\tVe find, therefore, in 01(le1" ,vritings, the first considerable snpport 
of this doctrine attributed to Bacon; and it must be conceded tbat to 
the po,ver and viviilness wit h which he portrayed lJÍs conc(\ptim.l of 
this agent "
as due in a great rneasure the tenacity with which it W:l.S 
aftl'rward, from time to time, lH'onght forwanl and nphel<..1. 
The subsequent supporters of this view, though not pC'rhaps 1))05t 
numerous, c0111prisecl by far the most distingni
h('d and profound 
philosophers of their time, their writings furnishing n)any rel1larl.;:aLle 
anticipations of heat-theory as no,v received. 

1 "Opere di Galileo Galilei," tom, ii., p. 505, et seq. 
2 "Novum Organum," lib. sec., aphorism 20. Rpedding and Ellis's translation, \01. iv., 
p. 1:54. ' 



Newton,l quite singularly, \vhile rejecting the wave-theory of light, 
gave his assent to the analogous idea::; respecting heat; and, in so far 
as \'
e lnay judge, conceived the \varn1th e
cited in a body,vheu ex- 
posed to light or radiant beat to be due to the little shocks which 
luminous or radiant materiallllight produce in it. 
IIuyghens, Hooke, Locke, and Cavendish, among others, were also 
favorahly inclined to the Baconian vie\v; 2 the ,yorks of IIooke par- 
ticularly containing HULny and strong expositions of the vibratory 
notion, and his comlnents on the mechanical and chemical produc- 
tion of heat being urged often ,vith as great clearness, and as sub- 
tile a })erception of occult natural causes, as any which ",ye now 
But the adaptation of the kno\vn "laws of Inotion " to these opera- 
tions, \vhereby heat n1Ïght in lnany instances have been directly cor- 
related to the energy expended in producing it, "
as not until long 
after definitely proposed; and though, in 1744, Boyle'" perhaps as in- 
telligently fiS anyone before him, had attributed tbe heating of a 
hanllllered body to the transfer of the" motion" of the hanuuer to the 
u1tin13te particles of the body struck, yet the idea of the indestructi- 
bility of energy in all cases, and of course, therefore, in the nlechani- 
cal excitation of heat, \vonld not seem to have been exprpssly urged 
before the tinle of Rumford and Sir IIulnphry Davy. 
In the n1ean 'while, however, a ne\v doctrine was brought forth, as- 
signing to heat a material existence and chemical properties. First 
1 Newton's" Optice," queries at the end of treatise, especially Kos. 6, 8, 12, 18, 23, 
and 31. . 
2 The idcas of Huyghells on this point would seem to have resembled somewhat those 
of Galileo, already quoted. See U Exposé de Ja Situation de la Mécanique Appliquée," 
par Combes, etc., p. 200. Paris, 1867. And Locke quite uniformly made use of Bacon's 
hypothesis. See particularly his essay on the" Conduct of the Human Understanding, 
Elements of Natural Philosophy," chap. xL, where he saJTs : 
" Heat is a very brisk agitation of tbe insensible parts of th
 object which produces · 
in us that sensation whence we denominate the object hot; so what in our sensation is 
beat, in the object is nothing but motion. . . . 
" On the other sidf', the utmost degree of co1d is the cessation of that Illotion of the 
insensible particles which to our touch is heat." 
3 Hooke's" )Iicrographia," obs. xvi., 12th particular. " Posthumous 'V o1'ks," p. 40. 
"Lectures on Light," p. 116. 
4 ".And now I speak of striking an iron with a hammer, I am put in mind of an opera- 
tion that seems to contradict, but does indeed confirm our tlH'ory: namely, that if a some- 
what longer nail be driven by a hammer into a plank or piece of wood, it will receive 
divers strokes on the head before it grow hot; but when it is drh-en to the head, so that 
it can go no further, a few strokes will suffice to give it a considerable heat; for while at 
every blow of the hammer the nail enters further and furtber into the wood, the motion 
tbat is produced is chiefly progressive, and is of the whole nail tending one way; whf're- 
as, when that motion is stopped, then the impulse given by the stroke being unable either 
to drive the nail further on or destroy its entireness, must be spent in making a various, 
vehement, and intestine commotion of the parts amon
 themselves, and in such an one 
we formerly observed the nature of heat to consist.'" -(Boyle, " On the Mechanical Origin 
of Heat and Cold," " Complete 'Vorks," vol. iv., p. 236, et seg., expo vi.) 


advocated, it is thought, by Boerhaave 1 and Lérnery,2 it received in 
1787 the unrcstrictpd name" caloric" from the French Academy. 
According to these hypothetic notions, singularly cranlped and 
SUl)erficial, as compared with the more fruitful ideas of Bacon, caloric, 
or the matter of heat, ,vas thought to be a highly-elastic, inlpOlldel'- 
able fluid; ,vhich, distributed among the constituent molecules of 
bodies, in quantities varying with the temperature in the saIne, or the 
" capacity" in different kinds of substance, occasioned all the known 
phenolllena of heat: the sensation, through an occult pro})el'ty of its 
own; expansion and repulsion, by the entrance of its own substance 
among the molecules of the bodies heated; a change of state whenever 
the effective action of any particular set of molecular forces should 
thus happen to be overcome; and in radiation passing from one body 
to another ,vith vast swiftness. Being, n10reover, an unchangeable 
material, a definite created quantity of it was considered to exist at 
"all times in the universe. 
The idea of a substance unaffected by the force of gravity did not 
appear so very improbable in those da)"s, while the then frequent 
separation of some new or more elementary gas, and the astonishing 
effects directly traceable to their action, quite naturally suggested an 
analogous causation in thermal phenon1(
The discovery by Black, of latent heat,3 seelned also to supply the 
necessary induction for its quantitative treatment; so t)lat tow::nL1 the 
beginning of the present century, and upon chemical considerations 
luerely, the hypothesis of caloric had succeeded in su})planting quite 
effectual] y the ideas of Bacon. 
The explanations which it gave of the mechanical excitation of 
heat ,vere not 80 plausible, h<Hvever; certain phenomena appearing 
utterJy incongruous "Tith the idea of an unalterable lllaterial supply 
of heat-substance, and its continued production of friction--a phe- 
nomenon which )1as been since said to have furnished tIle key to the 
whole science of thermo-dynamics-serving eventually to eonlpletely 
overturn it. In explaining Ruch phenomena, therefore, those who still 
chose the material hypothesis w'ere compelled to overlook SOllIe very 
significant objections; while, still supposing it to be a yibratory mo- 

1 "Dc Ig-ne, EIementa Chemiæ," i., 116. 
2 "Sur la Matière du Feu," " Histoire et :Mémoires de PAc. Par.," 1709, pp. 6, 400. 
3 'Ve know, however, that these discoveries did not fail to be correctly interpreted at 
the time, for Cavendish, in a foot-note to some" Observations on :Mr. Hutchinson's Ex.. 
periments," etc., "Philosophical Transactions," 1783, p. 312, remarked: 
" I am informed that Dr. Black explains the above-mentioned phenomenn in the same 
manner; only instead of using the expression, 'heat is generated or produced,' he 8ays, 
, latent heat is evolved or set free;' but as this expression relates to an hypothe:,:is de- 
pending on the supposition that the heat of bodies is owing to their containing- more 0" 
less of a substance cal1ed the matter of heat, and as I think Sir Isaac .Kewton's opinion, 
that heat consists in the internal motion of the pa!,ticlcs of bodies, much tbe most prob- 
ab]e, I choo!'e to use the expression' heat is generated.' " 
VOT.. xII.-14 


tion, tbe addition31 phenomena of latent or specific heats were not at 
all irreconcilable or difficult of explanation. 
Thus Lavoisier and Laplace, in their fanlOUS "l\Iémoire f;ur la Cha- 
leur" of 1780, though still retaining and defEnding the idens of caloric, 
admitted the frictional excitation of heat to be "favorable" to the 
dynamical hypothesis. But it is, on the other hand, to be relnem- 
bered that the earlier experinlents devoted to the study of tllis point 
had been by no means unnlistakable in their indications, directed as 
they had been rather to the detection of some suspected influence of 
the rubbing surfaces than to the investigation of any possible relation 
Letween the heat produced and tbe energy expended in producing it. 
The material hypothesis "
as, therefore, the prevailing one, ,vhen 
about the year 1797 Count Rumford,t .while Efngaged in superintend- 
ing the construction of cannon at the military arsenal at l\lunicJl, be- 
came impressed by the considerable generation of heat acconlpanying 
their boring. And as he thought upon the explanation of the phe- 
nomenon consistent with the then preyailing idens as to the intinlatc 
nature of beat, it seemed to hin1 impossible that an apparently un- 
liolJted supply of any substance could be sepnrated from so inconsid- 
erable a quantity of borings. The doubt increasell when, upon nlak- 
ing the detern1Ïnation, he found the specific heat of tJ1Ïs d[bJ"'ls to be 
the saIne, apparently, as that of the mass of metal from which it had 
been separated: for in some obscure nlanner the" capacity" for beat 
of any Lody, or the total quantity of it "TI1Ïch it might hold in any 
particular state, was considered to be intimately connected witl}, if 
not entirely defined by, its specific heat. 
But, though he quoted this ex})eriment fiS sufficiently COl1clu
that the heat set free by friction could not have heen produced at the 
expense of any caloric latent in the metal, he undertook the foIIo,ying 
more elaborate investigation to determine all the eirClll11stances which 
Inight possibly exert an influence on its production: find it appears, 
both from h
s method of procedure and the argunlents with which he 
supplemf'nted his results, that he had fully comprehended the philo- 
súphical consequences of each rival theory. 
In view of the preëIninent importance of these first conclush-e and 
.well-understood experiments, both .with respect to the establishnlent 
of the dynamic theory upon an experimental basis, ana t1le undoubted 
c1aiIn of their author to be considered as its founder, .we here giye as 
detailed an account of his investigations as may be thOUgJlt admissible 
in a work intended merely for didactic purposes; and "Te conceive a 
full statement upon this most important point to be the more de- 
sirable, from the fact that the con1pleteness with ,,
hich he then 
dcnl01ished the material hypothesis, and the maturity of his views 
respecting the dynamical nature of heat, do not of Jate seem to 
1 " Inquiry concerning the Source of the Heat which is excited by Friction," "Phil- 
osophical Transactions," 1798, p. 80. " Complete 'V orks," Am. Ac. cd., p. 400. 


have gained the unqualified recognition whicb they most certainly 
Taking the casting of a brass cannon, solid and rough as it canle 
from the foundery, and with the cylindrical n1ass of metal a (Fig. 1), 
called the verlorner Kopf, still adhering to the muzzle, Rumford caused 
to be turned upon the superfluous end a slllaller cylinder, b (Fig. 2), 



 - -
 = - , 
I ' I I 

FIG. 1. 

7-1 inches in diameter and 9.8 inches long, and ,,
hieh remained con- 
nected to the cannon proper by the neck, e, 2.5 in diameter and 3.8 
inches long. 
The whole mass being then secur
d in the apparatus used for bor- 
ing (Fig. 2), a cavity 7.2 inches long and 3.7 in diameter ,vas bored 
in b, in the direetion of its axis, so that a metal bottom, 2.6 inches 
thick, remained between the borer and the neck. In this also a small 
round hole, c d (Fig. 3), ,vas radially bored for the insertion of a 
thermometer. The cylinder, neck, etc., are represented Ul)orÌ a some- 
,vhat h
;rger scale in Fig. 3. 

i I 



FIG. 3. 

The borer used to create friction upon this 1l1
tallic bottolll was a. 
flat piece of hardened steel, 0.63 inch in thickness, four incllcs long, 
and nearly as "..iae as the cylindri{'al bore in ,,-hich it turned, 3-! 
inches; so that the area of contact ,vith tllG bottonl .was al)out 2.33 
square inches. This borer ,vas securely beld in place against tl1e bot- 

212 THE POPUL....1R SCIE.J..VCE ßIO...'lTHLY. 

tOlll of the cylinller, and kept from turning by an iron hal', 'in j and 
thus disposed for the experiment the apparàtus i::; repre
ented in 
Fi g. 2. 
In H,umford's first determination the borer was forced against thp 
bottom with a pressure of about 10,000 pounds, and the cylinder was 
l.otated at the rate of thirty-t\yO turns in a minute, by the labor of 
two horses. To prevent also as far as possible any loss of heat 
by radiation, tbe exposed parts were protected by thick coverings of 
At the beginning of the experiment the tem'peratnre throughout, 
as ,veIl as that of the surrounding air, was 60 0 Fahr.; at the end of 
thirty lninutes, when 960 revolutions of the cJ'linder had been made, 
the temperature, as indicated by a thermometer introduced into the 
small hole, had risen to 130 0 . 
Collecting the metallic dust-or, as he described it, scaly matter- 
which had been detached, he found upon a careful \veighing that it 
amounted to but 837 grains, or 54.2 grammes. Its inadequacy to 
account for the large excitation of heat fully ilnpressec1 hiIn, and he 
exclailns : 
" Is it possible that the very considerable quantity of heat that wa.s produced 
in this experiment (a quantity which actually raised the temperature of above 
113 pounds of gun-metal at least 70 0 of Fahrenheit's thermometer, and which, of 
course, would have been capable of melting six pounds and a half of ice, or of 
causing nearly five pounds of ice-cold water to boil) could have been furnislwd by 
so inconsiderable a quantity of metallic dust, and this merely in consequence of 
a change of its capacity for heat? 
,. As the weight of this dust (837 grains, Troy) amounted to no more than 
1íh part of that of the cylinder, it must have lost no less than 948 0 of heat, to 
have been able to raise the temperature of the cylinder 10; and consequently it 
lllust have given off 66,3600 of beat to have produced the effects which were 
actually found to hmye been produced in the experiment! 
"But without insisting on the improbability of this supposition, we have 
only to recoHect that from the results of actual and decisive experiment:;:, made 
for the express purpose of ascertaining that fact, the capacity for 11eat of the 
metal of which great guns are cast is not sensibly changed by being reduced to 
the form of JnetalHc chips in the operation of boring cannon; and there does not 
seem to be any reason to think that it can be much changed, if it be changed at 
all, in being reduced to much smaller pieces by means of a borer that is less 
"If the heat, or any considerable part of it, were produced in consequence 
of a change in the capacity for heat of a part of the metal of the cy1inder, as 
such change would on]y be superficial, the cylinder would by degrees be ex- 
hausted,. or the quantities of heat produced in any given short space of time 
'VouId be found to diminish gradually in successive experiments. To find out if 
this really happened or not, I repeated the last-mentioned experinlent several 
times with the utmost care; but I did not discover the smallest sign of ex- 
baustion in the metal, notwithstanding the large quantities of heat actually 
given off. 
" Finding so much reason to conclude the heat generated in these e:t- 


periments, or excite(l, as I would rather choose to express it, was not furnished 
at the expense of the latent lwat, or combined c(tlm'ic of the metal, I pushed my 
inquiries a step farther, and endeavored to find out whether "the air did, or did 
not, contribute anything in the generation of it." 

In thi8, his Experiment NO.2, the only modification consisted in 
fitting the steel borer 'with an air-tight piston, packed with oiled 
leather, by ,vbìch any circulation of air from without to the interior 
W2S prevented. But in the use of this device the oiled leather itself, 
by its friction with the sides of the borer, prot1uced considerable heat, 
so that, to ohviate. any possible objection as to this point, Rumford 
bad reconrse to his third and nlost celebrated experin1ent. 
In this, the friction cylinder "Tas made to rotate in a water-tight 
box, wbich, being filled with water, completely submerged all the hoat- 
producing parts. Here, therefore, the only supply of caloric, if any, 
lay in the ,vater, which itself was to be heated by.the friction; for 
. baù any caloric been abstracted by the heated 'water from the ambient 
air, there would haye necessarily been a flo"'
 of heat from a cool body 
to a warmer, which everyone adn1Ïtted to be contrary to experience. 
The apparatus, therefore, having been arranged, t11e box was filled 
,vith ,vater at the temperature of 60 0 Fallr., and the machinery put in 
With reference 1.0 what follo,vec1, Ilumforcl remarked: 
" The result of this beautiful experiment was very striking, and the pleasure 
it afforded me amply repaid me for all the trouble I bad had in contriving and 
arranging the complicated machinery used in making it. 
" The cylinder, revoldng at the rate of about thirty-two times in a minute, 
haù been in motion but a short time, when I perceived, by putting my hand into 
the water and touching the outside of the cylinder, that heat was generated; 
and it was not long before the water which surrounded the cylinder began to be 
sensibly warm. 
" At the end of one hour I found, by plunging a thermometer into the wateJ' 
in the box (t1]e quantity of wbich fluid mnounted to 18.77 pounds, avoirdupois, 
or two and a quarter wine-gallons), that its temperature had been raised no less 
than 47 0 ; being now 107 0 of Fahrenheit's scale. 
"'\Vhen thirty minutes more had elapsed, or one hour and thirty minutes 
after the machinery had been put in 11lotion, the heat of the water in the box 
was 142 0 . 
"At the end of two hours, reckoning from the beginning of the experiment, 
the temperature of the water was found to be raisetl to 178 0 . 
"At two hours twenty minutes it was at 200 0 ; and at two hours thirty 
minutes it ACTUALLY BOILED! 
"The quantity of beat excited and accumulated in this experiment was very 
considerable; for, not only the water in the box, but also the box itself (which 
weighed 15} pounds), and the hollow Dletallic cylinder, and tlUlt part of tlle 
iron har which, being situated ,,'ithin the cavity of the box, was immersed in 
the water, were heated 150 0 Fahr., namely, frOll1 60 0 (which was the tempera- 
ture of the water and of the machinery at the beginning of the experiment) to 
210 0 , the heat of boiling water at Munich." 


The total quantity of heat generated may be estimated with some 
considerable dC2:ree of l )recision as follows: . 
....... Quantity of ice-cold 
water which, with 
the given quantity 
" Of the heat excited there appears to have been actuaJIy of heat, might have 
'heeu heatec1180 o , or 
accumulated: made to boil. 
" In the water contained in the wooden box, 18! pounds, In avoirdupois wcilb

avoirdupois, beated 150 0 , namely, frOln 60 0 to 100 0 Fahr. . 15.2 
"In 113.13 pounds of gun-Inetal (the hollow cylinder), heated 150 0 ; 
and, as the capacity for heat of this metal is to that of water as 0.1100 to 
1.0000, this quantity of heat would have heated 12!- pounùs of water the 
same number of degrees . 10.37 
" In 3ü.75 cubic inches of iron (being that part of the iron bar to which 
the borer was fixed which entered the box), heated 1900; which may be 
reckoned equal in capacity for heat to 1.21 pound of water . . . 1.01 
"N. B.-
o estimate is here made of the beat accumulated in the 
wooden box, nor of that dispersed during the experiment. 
"Total quantity of ice-cold watel o which, with the heat actuaHy gen- 
erated by friction, and accumulated in two hours and thirty minutes, _ 
niight have been heated 180 0 , or made to boil . . 26.58 
" As the machinery used in this experiment cOlùd easily be carried round 
by the force of one horse (though, to render the work lighter, two horses were 
actually employed in doing it), these computations show further how Jarge a. 
quantity of heat might be produced, by proper mechanical contrivance, merely 
by the strength of a horse, without either fire, light, combustion, or chemical 
decomposition; and, in a case of necessity, the heat thus produced might be used 
in cooking victuals. 
" But no circumstances can be imagined in which this method of procuring 
heat would not be disadvantageous; for more beat might be obtained by using 
the fodder necessary for the support of a horse as fuel. . . . 
" By meditating on the results of all these experiments, we are naturally 
brought to that great question which JUtS 80 often been the subject of specula- 
tion among philosophers, nmnely: 
""hat is heat? Is there any such thing as an igneous fl1JÍ(l '/ Is there- any- 
thing that can with propriety be called caloric? 
" We have seen that a very considerable quantity of heat måy be excited in 
the friction of two lnetallic surfaces, and given off in a constant stream or flux 
in all directioWJ without interruption or intermission, and without any signs of 
diminution or exhaustion. 
"Whence came the heat which was continually given off in this manner 
in the foregoing experiments? 1Vas it furnished by the small particles of 
metal, detached from the larger solid masses, on their being rubbed together 1 
This, as we have already seen, could not possibly haye been the case. 
" Was it furnished by the air? This could not ha\Te been the case; for, in 
three of the experiments, the machinery being kept immersed in water, the ac- 
cess of the air of the atmosphere was completely prevented. 
" Was it furnished by the water which surrounded the machinery? That 
this could not have been the case is evident: 1. Because this water was con- 
tinually receiving heat from the machinery, and could not at the same time be 
giving to and receiving heat from the same body; and, 2. Because there was no 
chemical decomposition of any part of this water. Had any such decomposition 
taken place (which, indeed, could net l'ea
onably have been expected), one of its 


component cJastic fluids (most probabJy inflammable air) must at the same timo 
have been set at liberty, and, in making its escape into the atmosphere, would 
have been detected; but, though I frequently examined the water to see if any 
air-bubbles rose up through it, and had even Inade preparations for catching 
them, in order to examine them, if any should appear, I could perceive none; 
nor was there any sign of dccompasition of any kind whatever, or other chcmi- 
cal process, going on in the water. 
., Is it possible that the heat could have been supplied by means of the iron 
bar, to the end of which the blunt steel horer was fixed, or by the sma}] neck 
of gun-metal by which the hollow cylinder was united to the cannon 
suppositions appear more improbable even than cither of those before mentioned; 
for heat was continually going off, or out of the machinery, by both these pas- 
sages, during the whole time the experiment lasted. 
"And, in reasoning on this subject, we must not forget to consider that most 
remarkable circumstance, that the source of the heat generated by friction, in 
these experiments, appeared evidently to be inexhaustible. 
"It is harùly necessary to add that anything which any insulated body, or 
. system of bodies, can continue to furnish without limitation, cannot possibly be 
a mate/rial suùstance; and it appears to me to be extremely difficult, if not quite 
impossible, to form any distinct ídea of anything capable of being excited and 
communicated in the manner the heat was excited and communicated in these 
experiments, except it be motion." 

From this quotation we see, then, that Rumford, .with a sagacity 
indeed consummate, bad seized upon the most notable circulllstallce 
l)resented hy these experilnents, against the materiality of heat. Ital- 
icizing the word inexhaustible-a far lllore significant proceeding than 
the use of any acids would have been-}]e s]10wed most incontestably 
that, to still further reconcile the doctrine of caloric with expericnce, 
it would be necessary to admit the creation of it-a substance-in 
the production of heat by friction. But, even against so absurd a 
proposition, he proceeded to prepare, when he subjected to a conl- 
parative investigation the q'ltantities of energy expended and heat 
produced in such an operation. 
In his "Experiment No.3" 11e made, as may have been already 
noticed, nearly all the observations and corrections necessary for 
an entirely trustworthy estimate of t]1e "mechanical equivalent of 
heat; "1 an(l, although never literally enlploying such a term, ]1e sub- 
sequently stated, in reviewing stiH other experiments undertaken at 
1 Its value from the data given may be calculated as follows: 
Considering the shape of the borer, and its contact with the bottom of the cyìinder, 
we see that the moment of friction may be represented by the expression- 
f ' a 
4fp r 2 sin -1 _ d 1', 
.. r 
where f denotes the coefficient of friction, p the total pressure between the rubbing sur. 
faces, r the variable distance from the axis, of any rubbing particle, and a the half-width 
of the borer: when, moreover, the superior value of r alone is substituted. 
The integral indicated is- 
{ r 3 a m' a r + 
/ ( a a 2 - a 2 ) } , 
4fp) _sin -1 _ + __ t'(r 2 -a 2 ) + 
 log 't' 
l 3 r ß 6 


THE POPL"'L...1R SCl.b'
VC.b' JJI0.J.V1'HLI". 

about this p
riod/ that the heat so generated" is exactly proportional 
to tlte force 'with wltich tile two su'rfaces are IJressed together, and to 
the rapÙlity of tlte friction:" in other ,vords, that the production of 
heat is "exactly proportional" to the ,vork expended in producing it. 
First drawing attention to the aùsurdity of an apparatus contain- 
ing or creating an indefinite supply of a material substance; then 
proving by experiment that the quantities of heat excited in a given 
time ,vere proportional to the expenditures of an entirely different 
magnitude - ,vork: he must be credited not only with the first 
cOllclw;ive, but with the most ,veighty argulnent initially ayailab]e, 
against the existence of caloric, or in favor of the dynamic origin 




I SPARE the reader tl1e diffuseness of an introduction, by telling 
hill1 of a scene in an omnibus, which hinged on the question wheth- 
er the conductor should open or shut the windows. On the left ,vas 

in which the substitution of Count Rumford's data, 
p == 10,000 lbs., a == 0.3 inch, l' == 1. 75 inches, 
gives for the approximate moment of friction of the borer, in foot-pounds, 
800 f. 
So that, making thirty-two revolutions per minute, a quantity of work, 160,800 f, would 
he expended during the same interval. 
On the other hand, the heat excited in two hours and thirty minutes, and which, dy- 
namically, was to be l'egarded the equivalent of the work expended, according to Count 
Rumford's estimate, was sufficient to raise the temperature of 26.58 pounds of water 180 0 
Fahr., or 4,784 heat-units. The production of one heat-unit, therefore, corresponded to 
the Expenditure approximately of an amount of work- 
5041 f, 
For f == 0.15, this would give 756 
" f == 0.20," " " 1008 
as the equivalents in mechanical units or foot-pounds of one British thermal unit. 
Prof. Tait, availing himself of the remark let fall by Rumford, that" the machinery 
used in this experiment could easily be carried round by the force of one horse," and as- 
suming 30,000 fóot-pounds as the value of a llOrse-power per minute, thus derives 
940 foot-pounds as the mechanical value of a rise of temperature of 1 0 Fahr. in one 
pound of water. (See" Historical Sketch," p. 9.) But Prof. Thurston regards this cal- 
culation as unfair to Rumford, quoting Rankine's estimate of the admissible value of a 
horse-power, 25,920, from which the value of the equivalent, 812, results. This critique 
also seems the more allowable, since Rumford neither made corrections for the work ex- 
pended in friction in "the complicated machinery used" in the determination, nor for 
"the heat accumulated in the wooden box, nor for that dispersed during tbe experiment." 
-(See Jow.nal of the Franklin Institute, 3, lxvii., p. 203.) 
1 "Kleine Schriften," 1
05, vol. iv., p. 41. "Complete 'Yorks," Am. Ac. ed., voL 
ii., p. 209. 
2 Translated from the German, by J. Fitz
\.. M. 

OP P).l.V ...lIR .A.J.VD HEALTII. 

21 7 

seated a corpulent lady ,,
ith full face, shrill voice, and labored res. 
piration. The lady on the right was of lean, slender, dried-up figure; 
on entering the oilinibus sbe had coughed; after taking her seat she 
held bel' handkerchief to bel' mouth and fairly cJlanged color when the 
one opposite, ,vheezing, took her place and called out for" Air, air! " 
exclainling that she would surely he smothered if the window were 
to remain closed. " But I," ohjected the other, "should get my death 
of cold if the window 'were opened." TIJe conductor, ,,,ho for some 
time stood undecided what to do, received this l)iece of Solonlonic 
ad vice fronl one of the passengers: "Open the 'window," said }1C, in 
a deep voice, "and tIlen one of them will die; then close it, and the 
otber will die, and so at last ,ve shall have peace." 
This ending of tbe scene I state for completeness' sake only, and I 
add to it, by ,yay of transition to the subject of tbe present essay, a 
conversation with a farmer 'whicb gre,v out of the occurrence. 
On expressing to this sun-bronzed young man nlY regrC't that, in 
this self-styled" age of intel]igence," the fear of colds and of draughts 
should be steadily increasing, and that it should really be producing 
the very effects it is meant to guard us against, namely, coughs and 
colds, he fully agreed ,vith me, but took credit to himself for having 
risen above such notions. "'V e farmers," said he, "no longer belie-ve 
that rust in grain comes from cold; for we know that it results from the 
developJnent of noxious g
rms which, emitted by 1)31'1erry-bushes and 
decaying stalks, are carried about by the wind." 
This idea was of interest to me; for the farmer's account of the 
origin of" rllst" put me in mind of certain throat and lung complaints 
that, deyeloping unnoticed, gradually lead to positive disease, and the 
causes of ,vhich we physicians are daily more and more clearly tracing 
to inhalation of impure, vitiated air; bence, instead of speaking of con- 
sumptive lungs or tuberculous lungs, we should, rather, speak of" de- 
cayed" lungs or " dust" lungs. Stone-cutters are not assured by life- 
insurance conlpanies, because it is known that 
he stone-dust settles ill 
their lungs, undermining them, producing ulcerations and reducing the 
average life of the men to thirty-six years. Otller" dusty occul)atiolJs," 
so to speak, are less dangerous, but of certain callings and of certain 
classes of \\Torking-men ,ve often hear it said that they are sclL10m free 
from" dry" cougll. The reader, though he or she may ]Jaye little to 
do with dust, will perhaps have taken JlOllle from the 1mB a very fair 
case of" dust-lung" caused by the dust of tIle dancing-floor. If t]wy 
,\Till not believe this, let them exanline their expectoration the day 
after the ball. lIe who has good lungs lnay wit]lont fear inhale dust; 
he ,vill dance most of it out again; but not so a delicat C' girl, w JIO
lungs are compressed in a tight corset: 'when ,yith anst-laden nUlcns 
she spits blood, do not say she has" taken cold." No, it is heating 
that has caused it. 
lIeating, too, and not cold, far less 'c trouble with teeth," is to 


blamc wl
en the first-born child of incx})crienccd young married peo- 
ple becomes feverish, or has a cough, and these symptoms are only 
aggravated when the innocent victim is treated ,,
ith "teas" and 
, kept in an overheated room, and loaded do,vn with bed- 
That our children were intended by Nature to liyc in fres}), open 
air, and that the old wives' regimen of kee})ing 'warm, living in-doors, 
and of ,,
arn1 drinks, is the cause of the fearful mortality of young 
children, is a truth that was not unknown one hundred years ago, but 
which nlust still be repeated over and over again. 
The reader will allow me to recite the case of a patient of mine. 
.A. year ago, during his honey-moon, I congn)tulated hinI, and told 
him that a dry cough with \vhich he was troubled was cut'able, 1)1'0- 
vided he took care to live in the open air as much as possible, in- 
uring himself to cold, slee})ing in well-ventilated chambers, free from 
dust, etc. But this advice was hardly relished by the young })air. 
In October they hired rooms in a house tbat had just becn built; its 
"dampness" they remedied by keeping up fires steadily; thc 'v in- 
dows were hardly ever opened, as the house stood on a windy corner, 
and the husband "Tas growing more and more sensitive to cold; for 
this reason, too, he seldom ,vent out-of-doors. In N overnber he took 
to the bcd, ,vas again about, but he gradually declined, to the last 
hoping to recover. 
Diff('rent was the course followed by 1\11'. 11-, who, emaciated 
an,l troubled with a cough, had a hæmorrhage after contracting a "se- 
vere cold." lIe went into the country, took as much exercise as he 
could in the open air, and returned home with only a slight cough. 
At home he every morning took a ,,'arm bath with affusions of cold 
water, avoided rooms with bad air, etc. In six months he was free 
from his cough, appeared to be ",.ell nourished, and 110 longer had 
any fear of taking cold. 
If the reaùer will dispassionately cornpare these two cases, he will 
agree with me that the first patient, ,vho had never had hæmorrhage, 
fell a victim to the action of foul air, ,vhile 11- used to say, "I 
lllUSt give to my diseased lungs, above all things, fresh air, as the prin1e 
necessary of life." Animals never take cold, even in ,,
inter; there- 
fore an10ng men it must be a result of wrong habits if air does any 
harm. ,yo e kno,v that gold-fishes quickly perish 'when fresh ,vater is 
not provided for them; and ,vhen we ,vere boys we used to consider 
it cruelty to animals if we made no openings for ventilation in the 
boxes in which ,,"e kept cockchafers. 
Now, these openings answer to the window's in our houses; doors 
are meant to be closed, windows to be opened. It has long been held 
that closed "rindows are the principal cause of consumption. I would 
make tbe proposition more general, l)y substituting" defective .venti- 
lation" for '
closed windo,vs." It is very pleasant to be sheltered by 


21 9 

four walls against wind, rain, and cold; but, no",'" that we employ win- 
dow-glass, coal for heating, and iron stoves, and rent is becoming 
higher, ,-,'"hile rooms, especially sleeping-rooms, are growing sn1aller, 
,ve have all the greater reason to keel) ol)en ventilating apertures, 
since our lungs cannot live ,vith less than six hundred cubic feet of 
fresh, pure air per hour. The man who bas but once made trial for 
one week of sleeping with the window open wiU never give up the 
I once spoke to a lady about this matter, but s1le replied l)y telling 
me the story of a "thoughtless person" who, llaving left the window 
open through the night, a"'"oke in the nlorning blind. She had also 
read in some newsl)aper that a man had a stroke of apoplexy produced 
by the same cause. I was amazed. But, caning to nlinù that this 
lady's husband had served in tbe army, I remarked: " Your husband 
y for so long in the open air in the rain-drenched trenches at Stras- 
burg; did he eyer write to you that he had taken cold, or that any 
of the men had ever overnigbt been struck blind, or had Inet with any 
other misfortune? Did he ever contract a catarrh? Did be ever 
write for licorice, and not rather for tobacco ? Your brother-in-Ia",'" 
tram})ed in the deep snow to Besoul, your cousin learned at Le 
,vbat is the meaning of a faU of freezing rain, and tJlousands of our 
countrYlTIen bave had Jike ex})eriences; still, coughs and rheulllatiEm 
'were not frequent, and most of the men came back strong and healthy!" 
l\Iore rational opinions are gradually making their way, and, 
in one particular at least, a beginning i
 being made of a revolu- 
tion, namely, the system of treatment follow:ed in " climatic" sanita- 
riums, and establishments for the cure of disease by air, difference of 
elevation, etc. The })roprietors of such })laces, it iR true, speak of the 
" specific" virtues of their climate; but, ina8much as chemistry shows 
that atmol'ph(lric air all over the earth has the same constitution, 
the specific virtue must reside in tbe Epecial purity of the aiI"-a thing 
wanting in cities, but found in all viHages, provided they do not pos- 
sess large factories. Further, it is an error to suppose tlu'tt in the 
south-Florida, Colorado, or in the Tyrol, or by tIle lake of Genevn- 
it is as 'warm as in a hot-house. In those r('gions, too, it is now and 
tllen cold; yet it is easier to he out-of-doors tbere, for usually tbe sun 
shines and the landscape is beautiful. But, since we cannot s(>nd all 
the sick to the south, we must devise some substitute at home, the 
l)enefits of .which may be enjoyed even by the poorest. Then, too, 
when we consider that the majority of those who have spent the ,vin- 
tel'" in a southern clime return as-embalmed corpses, because it i
,vhen it is too late that people make up their minds to nutke the costly 
voyage, there is reason to expect better results from timely recourse 
at home to "air-cure." 'Vith the means of treatment at hand, dis- 
ease nligbt })e nipl)cd in the bud, and lung-complaints in general 
,yould be rarer. 


..And this result "Te nlay hope to attain. That pulmonary con- 
sumption is only an acquired disease ,ve kno\v from the fact that it 
first appears in t.he apices of tbe lungs-a portion of the organ ,vhich 
is not affected by hereditary pathological processes. The diathesis 
only is hereditary, and this diathesis consists simply of a general de- 
bility, which, however, can be overcome. But the thing that is tl'ans- 
Initted hereùitarily is habits of life-the avocation descending fronl 
father to sou. 
l\IacCornlac tens of a family in which father, mother, and six 
children, died of consumption; the seventh son alone survived, he 
ha ving quit the paternal house and calling, and gone to sea. Many 
instances of a like kind might be cited. This case is easily under- 
stood when we consider tbat here the parents and tbe six children 
who died had followed a sedentary trade; tbat they lived in narrow 
quarters, the air of ,vhich ,vas quickly vitiated by the large nunlber 
of persons breathing it; that they slept in a dusty room, with win- 
dows closed, lest they should take cold. They fell sick one after 
another; but the seventh son, who quit the unhealthy locality, had 

xercise, inhaled fresh, l)ure air, became vigorous and healthy, and 
escaped from consunlption. 
This simple explanation appears strange to those who believe in 
"tuberculosis." If this disease has gro'wl1 to be the curse of nlodern 
society, the scholastic interpretation of it has to bear no snlall part 
of the blame. The doctrine of the heredity of consumption leads to 
the helief that the consuml)tive patient is fated to die of his conl- 
plaint, and tIJat his death is merely a question of time. lIe hinlself 
often ch'a"Ts the conclusion that the best thing for him to do is to en- 
joy life as best he may while it lasts. On the other hanel, ,ve must 
condemn the heedlessness of those who, so long as danger is not l)rox- 
imate, fear the expenditure of time and money. These Fame people, 
when hæmorrhage suddenly appears, quite lose their heads, adopt the. 
most preposterous methods, \vhose only result is to cause ne"r hæmor- 
rhages, and to produce a regular case of consumption: whereas nlany 
of the old physicians recommend horseback exercise as the best cure 
for those suffering from hæmorrhage of the ]ungs, we now often see 
patients shut up in a hot, dusty room, not allowed to talk, and ahnost 
forbidden to breathe. 
It is a peculiarity of consumption that it may appear in association 
with all diseases in ,vhich recovery is slo,v. In the first place, it ac- 
companies inflammation of the lungs, unless the patient, while recov- 
ering, is permitted to breathe plenty of pure air. But it also Inakes 
its appearance in typhus, diabetes, and. meningitis, when tIle pa- 
tient is kept for a long time in a close room. So, too, delic:lte persons 
-those supposed to tend toward consumption-will all the Fooner 
become indeed" tuberculosed," the more they are coddled, protected 
against cold, and treated "Tith warm drinks and so-called "invigo- 



rants." Pulmonary hæmorrbage is in itsc1f not a symptom of" tuber- 
culosis," but it is nutcle so by ,vrong treatment. 
The foregoing praetic:JI considerations will enable the reaùer Let- 
ter to appreciate the theoretical ol)
ervatiolls whicb follo"r. 
The lungs, like all mucous surfaces, secrete nlUCUS even in their 
llealthy state; this collects ,vbile we remain quiet, but is thrown out 
when we move. Every adult person clears his throat in the nlol'ulng. 
One who has been sitting for a long time must cough when IlC gOl'S 
out-of-doors. Bodily movement is the best "solvent" for a cough. 
'Vhen one's life is sedentary, mucus collects first of all in the apices 
of the lungs, and it is nlore difficultly broken up there by Lot1ily 
movement, because the apices are the uppermost parts of the IUllg, 
anà the impetus of the cough must drive tlJe expectorated mucus 
around the corners of tbe lung. The a!)Íccs are a veritable receptacle 
for nu
cus, which, if not renloved, dries np, grows ]J3n1, and canSt'S 
nlceration. In one hundred autopsies ,ve fiud as many as ninety cases 
'where the apices are Illore or less shrunken, scalTcd: and oLstructed, 
and this without reference to the cause of death. 
The a]!ices, furthermore, are regular dust and gas traps, e
the right apex, which usually is the first to be affected ùy cOnStUl1l'- 
tion, because the air-passage leading to it is wider and less crool
than that leading to the left apex. All inlpurities inhaled into the 
lungs, and especially all dust, first Dlake t]Jeir ,,
a.y to tIle apict,s, 
there settle, unless they are kept in motion by bodily exercise. Elinl- 
ination, too, is more difficult in the apices than in the inferior 101)(\s. 
In coughing, the latter are aided by the abdonlinal pressure; while the 
apices, on the contrary, haye to ùepend on their own contractility, 
which is weaker in proportion as they have been out of exercise, or as 
their cell-walls }1ave grown together. IIeavy clothing, ,,
hieh, like the 
yoke for carrying ,vater, bears on the collar-bone, dimiBi
hes t]1O 
power of respiration in the apices; a nlodern winter-oyercoat weighs 
as much as cight or nine pounds. If, in addition to this, 1\r{' ha \y{' the 
usual two turns of a comforter around the neck, then the neek is 
l)ound faRt, anc1 ,ve ha\?e all the conditions neces
ary for producing a 
diseased conc1ition of the apices. Under snch circnmstances it ,,"'oulLl 
require consic1erabl
 exertion in coughiHg to clear the al)ices. lIenee 
the troublesome dry cough, "Thich -often ends in vOl1liting, yet does 
110t loosen the mUC1U\ in the lungs. No l,cnefit is to be got in such 
es froln 1ozenges, drops, extracts; tho 1110st that can be expected 
froln such re111edies is that they nl
Y nloisten the throat rC'ndered (lry 
by tIlo effort of coughing. But then they fill the 
ch wjt It 
phlegm. For snlall children 
uch snbstances are an act1t
1 poison, 
proclndng sonr stolnach, diarrhæa, and fever. 
Continued hard coughing in tinle injures the textnn' of 111e Inng8
anel krra
, often with bloody expectoration, to dcc
y of the apices, 
and, fillal1y, to true pulmonary cOIl
umption, concerning the' r
treatml'nt of \vhich '\-ve add a few ,,?orc1s : 


As a general rule, ,vhere a cough is hahitual, whatever the age of 
the patient, recourse should at once be had to those means of cure 
which usually are resorted to only at the last moment, and then with- 
out any hope of good results. But, unfortunately, most people think 
only of the present moment. They want a son to complete his school- 
ing as early as l)ossible, and to go to earning money. But what is 
the gain if the young life, after a few years, ends its earthly career? 
Better, therefore, that a year or two shoul(l pass without remunera.. 
tive eInployment, ,vhile in the mean time care is taken of the bodily 
health and strength, the affected lungs are invigorated, and the spir- 
its are renewed. In the first case we have dead capital, in the se
capital w.hich bears interest. 
The person ,vhose lungs are affected must once for all give up 
dancing, for .lancing as no\v practised is not" motion," but only de- 
struction of the puhllonary apices by dust and val)or, fatigue of tbe 
body through want of sleep and privation of fre
h air. 
'Vith this one exception, " caution" as uRually understood is bad. 
Let the one who is threatened with consumption look on hin1self not 
as one doomed to die, but only as a pulmonary invalid. He should 
consider that, while it is a misfortune that the pulmonary apices ttre 
fronl their position exposed to disease, we nevertheless haye l)lenty 
of lung-cells which can be made to do duty in place of theIne Still, 
if these are not daily stl'engthened by careful treatment, they are in 
danger of being infected by the others, and of becoming diseased like 
theln. By timely an(l continuous exercise, it is possible to restOl"fJ 
even the diseasecl cells, and to cure the consumption, or at leaRt to 
stay its further progress. If one can find the means of visiting Flor- 
ida, Colorado, or Southern Europe, it is well to do so. But if this is 
not possible, one must find the means of an air and nloveluent cure at 
hOine. That this is possible, the reader will see from the follo'wing 
analysis of the means of cure: 
1. LU
G-VESTILATIO:N.-The patient Inust with scrupulous conscien- 
tiousness insist on breathing fresh, pure air, and rnnst renlcnlher that 
the air of closed rooms is always nlore or less bad, iUlpure. :x 0 man, 
however uncleanly, .would drink nluddy, dirty.water. Unfortunately, 
for detecting impurities of air, the only organ we have is the nose, 
and in most persons the nose is of so obtuse a sensibility that it is of 
no service. Besides dust, injury to the lungs is caused principally by 
the products of respiration (carbonic acid and watery vápor), which 
act as poison on the lungs and the blood. A party which occupies a 
room for hours, breathing the same air, migl1t be comI"trec1 to a party 
of bathers drinking the water in ,vhich they bathe. The 111an ,yho on.. 
the street cuts off from his lungs tIle "cold" air, is like a rUIU il1 ant. 
If this literallr true cOlnparison were universally accepted and acted 
on, the number of cough-conlplaints would be reduced one-half. 
The patient nlust keep the window of his be<.1roolll open. Night- 



223 . 

air is fresh air without daylight; he who fears night-air is 1ike a child 
who dreads darkness; the light in the room after the b,n1 p is extin- 
guished is also night-air. In close, crowded, heatecl rooms, the patient 
suffering from lung-complaint respires consumptively. In ".inter 
ticial heat may be elnployed, but tile \vindo\v Inust be opened aboye, 
and thus ,ve have at once both warmth aud ventilation. In the city 
night-air is always ,vholesonler than day-air, being both purer and 
If it be objected that" what suits the blacksmith does not snit the 
tailor," I reply that may be true of a plate of sauerkraut. But here 
tho case is just the reverse. The blacksmith who has no trouble with 
his lungs can stand vapor-dust, heat, fatigue; but the one who has pul- 
monary disease risks his life if he has not always abundance of fres}), 
pure all'. 
So far of the What ?-lung ventilation. Next, of the 'Yhy ? 
On rising, let the 'patient drink fresh n1Îlk (not coftèe), w bich ,vill 
be relished all the more if one wakes with an inclination to cough. 
Then let him approach the open window, brandish the arms over the 
head-which enables the lung apices to inhale air nlore easily-and 
for a few lllinutes fetch as deep inspirations of air as possible. lIe 
nll1st frequently take such deep ins})irations in the open air. 
If the lungs do not. become free, let hin) introducc into them-not 
into the stomach-something t() act on the dry n1UCOUS nlembrane- 
as the vapor of water or of call1olnile-tea. 
If the cough is caused rather by a "scratchy" feeling in the 
throat, if it is spasnlodic, let him swallow or gargle some substance 
that will quiet the ne1"Ves. Cold water is best-in sun1n1er ice-water; 
in some cases cooled fennel-tea is of service, but not sirup or any hot 
2. SKI
-V ENTILATION.-This is of no less iml)ortance for warding 
off simple coughs, as well as for preventing the transition to consunlp- 
tion. "Vith its lnillions of por
s, the skin is on the one side the main 
sewer for carrying a,vay superfluous fluids, and on the other it is the 
principal factor in cooling the body, in colas, ill overheating, and in 
fevers. ",.. e will now consider skin-ventilation frcnn this point of 
view under the two heads of-a. EIÎ1nination of fluids; u. llcductioll 
of temperature: 
 OF FLUIDs.-Like the external skin, the inner skin, 
the Inucous Inembrane, exudes moisture, s"
eats. The mucous n1el11- 
branes, having no covering, are always n10ist. The mucous nleluLranc 
of the lungs exhales watery Yapor. 'rhis vapor comes fronl the 8e1'\1111 
of the blood, i. e., from that portion of the blood in ,,
hich the corpus- 
cles are suspended, and which, after the corpuscles hayc l)een filtcreLl 
out, rcsclnbles water. The external slin under ordinary circnnlstances 
gives off about twice as nIllch watery vapor. But, in proportion 3S 
this clÎlllination is checked by dcfective skin-ventilation, the ,vater 



of the blood (serum) has to be eliminateJ internally through the mu- 
cous Inelnbranes. Cooling, i. c., the sudden action of conlparatively 
low teInperature on the warm surface of the skin-for iustance, when 
one sits in a draught of air-nlay check transpiration, and so cause 
the fluids to tend inward in such volume as to overtax tbe capacity 
of the mucous Inembrane of tbe lungs or the intestines, more rarely 
of the kidne)?s, tbe result being catarrh. But catarrh and coughing 
are t"..o different things: as for" dry cougb," it can never arise fro)l) 
cold. That it results from the inhalation of Ï1npure, vitiated air, the 
reader knows already. It is true tbat obstruction of the ùreathing- 
apparatus, as "rattling" in infants, and ha"rking and hoarseneg
grown persons, results from retention of seruUl ; but tbat this obstruc- 
tion is not connected ,vith taking cold must be a(hnitted, at least in 
all cases where the patient has not quit his chamber, or CYt'n his bed. 

\s a n1atter of fact, no one takes a cough from a cold wall or fron1 
an open door. The conclusion to be drawn from all this is, that the 
coughs, hoarscness, and. sore-throats, from \vhich those pèr
ons suffer 
in winter who are ever on their guard against colJs, are produced, 
not at all from cold, but from its contrary, overheating of the 8kin, 
whose evaporation is feebler the nearer the external telnperature ap- 
proaches that of the body. In this case there is a snppreðsion of the 
action of the skin, but it is produced not by.cold but by improper 
warming-or, as it is more properly caned, by pan1pering. A hot 
Lath, a cold pack, or a good, lively 1',
alk, will work wonders in " loos- 
ening" a hard cough. At first, it is true, the patient will cough harùer 
than ever; but this effect is not dne to the" cold ,vinc1," but to the 
fact that the accumulated mucus, once started, is expel1ed en ma8

The oftener the patient resorts to tbe bath, to the pack, and to ,valk- 
ing, the less frequent are the fits of coughing, and the freer and easier 
aoes he breathe. 
b. RED1JCTIOY OF TE::\IPERATURE.- The body's tenlperatnre is 1:01'- · 
111al ,vhen in the armpit it is about 95 0 Fahr. Food and drink are' 
stinllllants, and tbe skin is the radiating surface which gives off tho 
surplus heat. If this elimination is not sufficiently active, the l)ody 
beconles overheated, and this nlanifests itself by shiycring. O\.e1'- 
heating is the result when one eats and drinks much, at the san1e tilne 
parting with but little heat. The chill so produced is usuaHy called' 
" Ï1nvard cold.," Lut this is an error: it is overheating. That this is so 
is shown from the fact that when on tIle morning after a " social even- 
ing," during ,,"hich \ve were overheated, 1','0 feel chilly, 1',"e have only to 
tako a "
alk until perspiration is set up; ,,
e then feel warm again in 
spite of a considerable cooling oft: And this, lJy-the-way, is the very 
best cure for the" I{atzenjan11uer." "or e Jivc in a clin1ate where i
far easier to heat the body tlJan to cool it. lIenee one of 111Y connsels 
against catclJing cold is, that the ,,'cakly, coughing re
H.ler of seden- 
tary habits shonl(l not overheat himself with strengthening food, so 


225 . 

calle<.1 (meat, eggs, beer), else he might take an "in'vanl cold," or ev
a fever. 
Eut a person nlay contract a genuine (external) cold by unwise 
precaution against draughts - by neglecting the skin-vcntilation. 
Under this bead of unwise !)recaution we must class the hahit of 
wrapping up the body 'when it is in a state of perspiration. On the 
contrary; coat and waistcoat must then be opened so that the shirt 
may dry quickly, and the underclothing, including the stockings, must 
be changed. But what does he do ,vho on reaching the top of a 
mountain, with a wet shirt, buttons up his coat about him, puts on 
his overcoat, and over all his plaid? I-Ie applies a ,vet poultice at the 
"Trong time. 
Prof: Tyndall, in his" Glaciers of the Alps," tells us tlwt, on beillg 
overheated during his rambles in the Alps, be at onf'e took a batl1- 

r po
uea ,vater over his body. " l)robatu1ì
 est," say I, from personal 
" Yes," some one win say, " you are inured to that sort of thing." 
To be sure I am! But ,vhat hinders you froIn being inured also? 
J U8t go out on the ice during this glorious "Tinter ,veather, put on a 
pair of skates: JOu ,vill return bright and fresh; you will throw' op(\n 
the windo,vs, and be indignant at Jourself for ever having shut your- 
self up in fmch a steaming atmosphere. The next day take a simple 
bath-not a Russian or a Turkish bath at all-and you ,viB rid your- 
self of still another part of your phlegm. 
3. l\IuscLE-V ENTILATION.-)Iuscular fibre respires too, i. e., gives 
off carbonic acid and takes up oxygen. To this end it nlust dili- 
gcntly contract and then relax; in short, it nlust ,vork, or, if the reader 
prefers the expression, it must practise gynlllastics. """hether on
takes his exercise at bonle or abroad, 11lakes no difference. They 
whose lungs are affected wouItl do ,veIl to clÍ1nb hill-sides, for in such 
exercise the apices of the lungs are nlost called into IJ}ay; in clÏ1llb- 
ing the hands Inay rest on the hips. l\Iuscle-exercise is not to be sepa- 
rated from lung-exercise. If bodily movelnent be neglected, deleteri- 
ous fluids accunlulate, ,vhich I can" suffocation-blood" and" fa1 igne- 
blood." The former contains carbonic acid, which lllakes one always 
drowsy, and causes one to go about his day's ,york ,vith a feeling of 
situcle no matter ho,v long be has slept. This feeling of wearincss 
grows f\teadily ,vorse. "Fatigue-blood" accunnllates ill the mURcles 
as a result of drinking ,vine and beer; even sÏrnply bending the hotly 
causes inconvenience; one feels quite unstrung and 'wants to 
on a louncrc or a bed whereas \vhat he oll[!ht to do is to take a brisk 
b' '--' 
run in the O I )en air or a little exereise in a gvmnasium. In this way 
the skin is ventilated ana tIle sernnl wOl:ked off. 

Iy es
ay cannot exhaust :111 the topics n:uned in its title: tlJe }}10st 
it ran do is to ::nvaken attention, free the reader fronl ('<-'rtain en'one- 
ous ideas, and lead him to believe that the silllplest rel11edy is always 
YOLo XII.-15 


the ll10st natural and the best. If anyone will put his faith in recipes, 
I ,vould remind him of the history of the sale of indulgences. 'Ve 
look back with indignation to Tetzel's scandalous ,york, but Low many 
people still think they can purchase health by gorging themselves 
with medicines! Cònsumptives form no small portion of this class. 
The treatment here recomn1ended costR no ll10ney, but d('manù
,viII, self-conquest, and perseyerance. The treatment is not so conl- 
plicated as it may appear; it is simply a movement and an air cure, 
or, luore briefly, an " attell1pering" cure, for effelninacy is the source 
of al1 colds, coughs, and consllluption, and hardening is the only pro- 
tection and renledy against them.-.Dcr [Je1ïwinuützige Gesundlteits- 





A P ...\RT of the theory of the tides presented in our text-books 
ha:s been pronounced absurd in my first articlc. It is also a 
ll1atter of amazement that the effect of cel
trifugal force is entirely 
ignored in these text-1>00ks. That the propelling force arising from 
this cause should be utterly disregarded in an explanation of the tides 
is very remarkable. And yet the existence of such a force is so easily 
demonstrated that nothing else seeins necessary to prove it to be one 
of the causes of the tiJes, than what was presented in my first article. 
I will, however, give additional force to my r('asoning by citing the 
results of actual experill1ent. 
It Inay be sho"rn that thcre is an actual difference in the amount . 
of centrifugal force felt at any part of the earth's 
urface (luring 
nt tÏ1nes of the twenty-four hours of one axial rotation; and 
o at different tiInes of the earth's revolution around her.centre of 
Illotion. Theory illlplies that whell any portion of the eartll's fo'ur- 
face i
 n10ving toward that point in her orbit where such surface 
lllakes the most rapid s'weep around the centre of motion, the greatest 
an10unt of centrifugal force must be felt at such surface; and that, 
when this part lnoves to'ward that point of the earth's orbit "There it 
makes the slowest sweep around the centre of motion, the least amount 
of centrifugal force must be felt. N ow, it is very evident that any 
portion of the earth's surface ,vhich is IllOst remote from the centre of 
her motioH, whether that centre be the sun or the cent re of gravity 
between herself and the moon, makes the 11l0st rapid sweep, and that 
consequently her waters nIBst feel the greatest amount of centrifugal 
force at that tim



N OW, let us see what experiment tens U
 on this subject: 1\ 
box has been made of proper dimensions, free within from al1 outside 
disturbance or motion of air. In this box is placed a steel fran)(
which llloves like a gate on a very delicate Linge, so as to avoid aB 
possible friction. A ,veight of nearly twenty pounds rests on this 
gate at about four feet from the hinge. The hinge, wbose lower part 
is a mere point, or delicate pivot, and the weight, are in the san1e line, 
parallel with the meridian. The weight is free, as nearly as can be, 
to obey the power of its own inertia. In consequence of this it ruovps 
laterally once every t,venty-four hours west and east, whene'ver the 
centrifugal force is increasing and decreasing. 
Froln noon to midnight the earth's surface is moving toward that 
point where its motion is more rapid, and cOTIseq uently it begins to 
feel an increasing amount of centrifugal force. This is indicated by 
the apparatus, for the ,veight, which rests on the gate, by virtue of its 
inertia, lags behind and makes an apparent motion westward. This 
motion is, of course, not real. The earth's surface moves east,vard 
faster than the ,veight, ana hence the weight appears to move 1',"est- 
ward. .From n1idllight to noon the centrifugal force felt by the earth's 
surface diminishes, for it is then moving to,vard that point 1','here its 
nlotion eastward is less rapid. This is also indicated by the appara- 
tus, for the 'weight, having gradually acquired the same velocity east- 
ward, remains stationary at midnight a very short time. But, soon 
after midnight, ,,,,hen tbe earth's surface begins to feel less centrifugal 
force, this 'weight, by virtue of its inertia, resists the change of mo- 
tion, and therefore moves east,vard as far as it llloved ,vest,vard be- 
fore midnight. 
This lHovement of the ,veight is greatest ,vhen ne'V-]TIoon occurs 
at midnight, for the earth then feels not only the centrifugal force 
produced by her revolution around the sun, but, in addition, that pro- 
duced also by her revolution around the centre of gravity between 
elf and the moon. 
The motion of the ,voight "rest-ward begins soon after n1id-day, 
and reaches its highest acceleration at about 8 P. M. ; the motion enst- 
,,"a1'(l begins 800n after n1idnight, and reaches its highest acceleratic;n 
at about 7 A. M. 
I hope Roon to make a ne",. apparatus, ,,,hich shall have a long('r 
distance between the hinge and weight, and from it ll10re u1arl...ed re- 
sult.R ran be derived. 
When a body moves in a curve around a centre, it feels the effect 
of two forces: the one, ,vhich I call centrifugal, is the impulse w11ich 
puts the 110dy ìn motion; the other, w]Üch I call eentripetal, i
po"rer which draws to,vard the centre and keeps the body frOBI 1110Y- 
ing in a direr.t line. These aro the only forces acting upon a body 
moving in a curve. The fonner is sonletiInes called tangential, hut I 
prefer to call it centrifugal, for it is the only force which driyes fron1 


the centre. There is no forc
 acting directly fro1n the centre. That 
which is often called centrifugal is really centripetal force, for the 
tension of the string in the following experilnent is Hot causeù by any 
force acting on the body fl'orn the centre, but it is caused by a force 
drawing the boùy out of its rectilineal course, and toward tlJe centre, 
compelling it to n10ve in a curve. 

nppose the body E (Fig. 1) moves "Tith a certain velocity in the 
curve E C .D, and that the string 
E /3 feels a known tension, just 
equal to its strength. X ow, 
double the velocity, and .the 
strength of the string must be 
ù fourfold to keep it 
from breaking, for the force 
drawing the body to'ward tbe 
centre must then be four tÏInes 
as great to keep it 1110ving in 
the curve. Or, suppose the body 
moyes from A toward B with 
a known velocity, and that on 
reaching E/ it is acteù upon by 
the string. The body is then 
nutde to take a curviliI
ear mo- 
tion, und the string feels a tension dr::nving tbe body not directly 
from hut toward the centre, and equal to a force necessary to keep 
the hody from moving in a straight line. It may be remarked that, as 
action and reaction are equal, the tension is felt both ways. But the 
reader can easily see what I mean. 
This law of motion can be still better illustrated by a reference to 
one of the satellites of the planet K eptune. The mean distance of 
this satellite is nearly equal to the distance of Ollr moon from the 
earth. 'Ve n1ay assume these distances to be exactly equal. Then, 
as at the same distance the centripetal force must increase as t}]e 
square of the velocity, to keep the body moving in the curve, and as 
the velocity of this moon of X eptune is about four and a half tiu1es 
greater than that of our moon, the centripetal force, or the force of 
gravity produced by Neptune on this moon, must be (4.5)2 about 
twenty tiInes as great as is the centripetal force or t}]e gravitating 
pO\'Ter our parth produces on its moon. In other ,yords, the planet 
Neptune is about t"Tenty tin1es as heavy as our earth, for ,,-eight is 
nothing else than the measure of grayity. 
The prec,eding staten1ents are sufficient to show "Tbat is llleaut by 
centrifugal and centripetal forces. Let us now see bO"T these act on 
bodies movin('/' in large and sl11a11 curves , and how the ,vaters on the 

earth's surface are driven by centrifugal force to".ard a line talJgent 
to her orhit. Since the length of the orbital curve of the earth is 



,./ D 




FIG. 1. 




very great, antl therefore not nU1ch deflected from a straight Ene, the 
,vaters arc driven very little aLove the usual surface, no matter how 
rapidly the earth herself nlay Inove in this Cl1l'\TC. The centrifugal 
force or original impulse felt by the whole earth is very great, but 
that felt by her waters is hardly visible or sen
iblc in mid-ocean. For 
the title-waves cannot get above the line tangent to the curve of the 
earth's orbit. The following illustration .will show thi
Let ABC (Fig. 2) represent a part of the curve of the earth's 
orbit, in its nlotion around the central sun, and B IJ a line tangent 







FIG. 2. 

to the cnrve at the point B. Now it is very evident that no tide- 
wave produced by centrifugal force can get higher above the curve of 
the orbit than this tangent line, and the distance between tl)e cur\-c 
and the tangent, as at E, is very sn1all. The part of the earth's sur- 
face most renlote from the sun has indeed a greater tendency to con- 
tinue moving on in the straight line of the original impulse than any 
other part. The particles of water have a small degree of cohesion, 
and they "rill therefore continue to move a sl)crt distance along this 
tangent, but only a little aboye the usual surface of the earth. 
The curve in which the surface of the earth nloves around the cel1- 
tre of grayity between herselt' ana tl1(' moon is Hluch l110re def1cctl.a 
from a straÌo-ht line 11ere also the tide-wave can rise no higller tlWll 
o . .. 
to the line tangent to this cur\
e. The distance of the point G (Fig. 3) 
froln the curve is, however, much greater than tIw point E in Fig. 2 
from its curve. The nlotion of the surface of the earth at II arountl 


the point C, the centre of gravity betw"een herself and the 11100n, is 
only about sixty-five miles an hour; while the surface at B (Fig. 2) 
moves ,vith a velocity of 68,000 
miles an hour around the SUllo 
N e,'"ert}1('less, as the ,vaters are 
driven towarLl these l'e
tangents hy the effect of centrif- 
ugal force, the tide -,vave mnst 
be greatest ,vhere the distance 
bet,veen tangent and curve is the 
Let u
 now proceed to pro,-e 
by nlathematical denlonstration 
the falsity of the theory of the 
tides found in our text-books. 
1lerschel, in his "Outlin
s of 
Astronomy," uses the following 
language: "That the sun, or moon, 
should by its attractions heap np 
the ,yaters of the ocean under it 
seems to thern (objectors) yery nat- 
ural. That it should at the same 
tilne heap theln up on the oppo- 
site side seems, on the contrary, 
palpably absurd. The error of 
this class of objectors . . . . con- 
sists in disregarding the attraction 
of the disturbing body on the nUlSR 
of the earth, and looking on it as 
,vholly effective on the superficial 
water. 'Vere the earth, indeed, · 
absolutely fixed, held in its place 
by an external force, and the water 
left free to lnove, no doubt the ef- 
fect of the disturbing power would 
be to produce a single accumula- 
tion vertically under the disturb- 
ing body. But it is not by its 
,,-hole attration, but by the differ- 
ence of its attractions on the su- 
perficial water at both sides, and 
on the central mass, that the wa- 
ters are raised; just as in the the- 
oryof the 'nloon the difference of 
the sun's attractions on the moon 
and on the earth (regarded as 






FIG. 3. 



----------------_____ M' 


FIG. 4. 


23 1 

moyable, and as obeying that amount of attraction which is due to its 
situation) gives rise to a relative tendenc
 in the moon to recede from 
the earth in conjunction and opposition, and to approach it in quad- 
ratures. " 
This language gives about the clearest presentation we have of 
the pulIillg-aw'ay doctrine. But there 'is no " tendency in tIle moon 
to recede from the earth in conjunction and opposition, and to ap- 
proach it in quadratures." On the contrary, the tendency of the 
moon's motion is just the reverse-namely, to approach in conjunlJ- 
tion and opposition, and to recede in quadratures. And if so in re- 
gard to the moon and earth, it nIust be still more so in regard to the 
earth and her waters under this influence alone, as can be demon- 
I am sustained in nlY position by the best of authority. "Thus our 
moon moves faster, and, 1y a radius drawn to the earth, describes an 
. area greater for the time, and has its orbit less curved, and therefore 
approaches nearer to the earth in tIle syzygies than in the quadra- 
tures. . . . The moon's distance from the earth in tIle syzygies is to 
its distance in the quadratures, in round numbers, as 69 to 70." The 
authority I quote is Newton's eo' Principia." 
Let us make a calculation, and apply it to the earth and her "ra- 
ters. The moon perfonns its revolution in 27 d ';h 43tm, wbich is equal 
to 2,360,ü06-i seconds. The seconds of time in which the moon lnakes 
one revolution around the earth is to one second of tin1e as 1,296,000 
seconds in a 'whole circle is to a fractional part of one second of a 
circle, which we will call x. Hence æ ==!j*%

%;js == .54901141 +, which 
is the fractional part of one second of the circle of tlle heavens the 
moon describes in one second of time. The semi circumference of a cir- 
cle who
e radius is one equals 3.14]592653589 +. lIenee one second of 
tJlis semicircunIference equals 2:14 V'4\ \Y ü 3 5 R 9 == .0000048481368110 +, 
and the fractional part .5490] 141 + of one second of this s(l111icircum- 
ference is equal to .00000266168242648 +. 
Let E ..zJI and E lJI' represent the moon's distance fron1 the earth, 
J1I Jl' the arc ,vhich the moon describes in one second of tin1e, and 
A .J.11' the sine of this arc. Let E M' equal 240,000 miles, tIle nIooll's 
distance, in round numbers, frolH the earth, and E () equal one 
mile. The arc B 0, being very smaU, may be regarded as equal to 
its sine. The length of this arc ,ve have already found. From sÎn1Ï- 
Iarity of triangles we have the following proportion: A .JI' : B 0:: 
E lJl' : E 0, or, by substituting the figures, A _1I' : .00000266168242- 
648 :: 240000 : 1. Therefore A .1J1' == .6388037823552 +, ,,'hich is the 
sine of the arc passed o,.er by the moon in one second of time. The 
cosine E .A.1 is equal to 
V E JJI' 2 _ A jf[ ' 2 == V (240000)2- (.6388037823552)2 + == 
239999.9999991498535 +, ,vhich, subtracted E lJI, gives A.ill == .00000- 
08501464 +, and this fractional part of a mile, reduced to inchcs, gives 


.053865275 +, the fractional part of an inch as the distance the moon 
falls from a tangent to its orbit in one second of time. 
lultiply this 
by the square of 60, and we get, when reduccd, 16.159 + feet, tbe dis- 
tance the 11100n descenùs in one n1Ïnntc, ,vhich is equal to 15.1 + Paris 
feet, the result obtained by X e,vton in his" Principia." 
'The distance the earth fillh, in one second of time, toward the sun 
is about .12144 + of an inch, and the distance the n100n fall
the sun in one second, ,vhen in opposition, is about .12084 of an inch. 
This, added to the distance the llloon falls toward the earth in one 
second, makes .17470 +. Now, .17470 - .12144 := .05326. lIenee the 
Inoon, when in opposition, Illoving faster toward the earth tl)an .the 
earth does to'ward the sun, by .05326 fractional part of an inch in a 
second, these t"...o bodies have a tendency to get nearer to each other 
in this position. The same can be provefl ,vhen the moon is in con- 
N O\V let us see how this same law affects the ,vaters of the ocean. 
The earth moves towart1 the sun .12144 part of an inch ill a second. 
The \vaters of the earth, on the side turned away froln tbe SUll, are only 
4,000 n1Ïles farther fron1 the sun than the centre of the eartb. Grayity 
toward any body dinlinishes as the square of the distance increase8. 
lIence these waters, influenced by the gra\'itating power of the sun 
nJolle, and not hindered by any intervening object, ,,"'ollld fall tow
the sun .12143 part of an inch in one second. Hence the earth has a 
tendency to n10ye away fronl the waters with a velocity of .00001 
part of an inch in one second-that is, if these ,vaters were not infln- 
enced by the gravitating power of the earth, and only by that of thp 
sun, the earth would be " pulled away" from its waters at the rate of 
only the 100,000th part of an inch in one second. But it must be re- 
meInbered that the waters gravitate, in addition to this, toward the 
earth at the rate of 16.15 + feet in one second, and therefore thesc 
waters are depressed by gravity, and not elevated. The same may bc . 
proved in r(lgard to lunar tides. 
I close by saying that I am an earnest seeker of truth, and nothing 
but a sincere desire for truth has impelled me to write these two 
articles. .Any person atten1pting to prove me in error, with the same 
good motive, ,vill be kindly ,velcolned. 



M OST people accept it as a fact that superstition 'went out with 
the advent of steam, the telegraph, and the penny-post. .A, 
little honest observation, ho"rever, win assure us that there still exist 
a number of pitiable though pçtty superstitions. Among certain 
classes there are lucky and unlucky days in their calendar. They 



","ill not attempt an inlportant task on Friday. The horseshoe still 
hangs bellÏnd or over the door in the IIighlands, and ill 80111e places 
nluch less renloved from the centres of civilization. East-coast fisher- 
men will yet occasionally burn, or otherwise destroy, a boat fronl 
,vhich the lives of any of the cre,v have been lost, no nlatter ho,,
worthy or vaiuable the ùoat lllay be. A hare crossing the path of 
one of thesc hardy sons of the sea will cause hiln to forego an in- 
tended journcy or voyage. To rustic and fisherman alike a concourse 
of magpies is an evil omen. ..l\S for dreams, tho ùc>lief that they are 
the forecasts of events is perhaps the strongest of all the fOrIUS of 
their superstition. "T e might multiply exalnples, but have 
aid enough 
to snggest that the follies of their great-grandfathers haye still no 
slight fascination for the ignorant, in spite of the strides ,vhich intelli- 
gence has made. 
But have superstitious beliefs quite left the more intelligent ranks 
. of society? On the very subject of dre::tlns itself is there not a sneak- 
ing credulity which goes far to prove the contrary? True, anyone 
of us is quite ahle to account in a natural "Tay for his or lIeI' dreams. 
Nevertheless, the lady ,yho chides her children for repeating tbe in- 
terpretation ,vhich the housenlaid has put uIJon their sleeping vagaries, 
antI sagely instructs them on the subject of inlperfect digestion and 
its effects upon the brain during sleep, is not ashallled to ÏInpart to 
her husband any morning the particulars of her own shocking dreams, 
or to piously express the hope that something unto,vara is not about 
to happen. lIeI' better-IwJf pooh-poohs the matter, doubtless, as be- 
comes his superior dignity, but is visited none the less witI] a vague 
sense of uneasiness when he remembers that he himself had a ,'ision 
of losing a tooth or seeing a house on fire. Ilaying courageously 
quizzed his wife at the breakfast-table on the folly of lte]
 augury, and 
hidden her ancl the childrcn good-by for the day, he inwardly deplores 
thc unlucky omen of having to turn back for his forgottcn umbrella 
or pocket-Look! 
Ho,v Inany curious but innocent little customs too are 8ti11 current, 
ancl with the sanction of the ,visest ! An old slipper is still cast after 
a bride: it is considered necessary to christen a new I:5hip "Tith a 
bottle of wine: a fine day is still royal weather: and so on. Thcse 
and many otl1crs most of us "Tould incleed be sorry to see extinct. 
They are not only harn11ess, but, in th('ir very departure fron1 strait- 
lacecl comnlon-sense, givp an agreeable and perlutps eyen healthful 
relief to the prosiness of on1inary ]ife. To sacrifice them to the strict 
l('tter of reason woulcl be to sacrifice luuch of the sentiment of liffl, to 
bani::-h imagery from poetry, to take the perflune from the ros(', to ' 
guide into a Dutch canal the current of human affections, which left 
free ,rill gush and c
ldy, prattle ana murmur by rock and 111cadow, 
carrying music and health throughont its liying conr
'V ouid that modern superstitions never took ICbs innocent shapes! 

YCE .JIO-,..Y1 T I-ILr'. 

I-Iaving discan1ed the ghostology of olden times, many people, and 
anlong these sonle men and women of considerable culture, 11a ve set 
up for themselves a novel systen1 of intercourse with the unknown 
world. Brownies and fairies, with all the fine romance that surrounds 
the history of their doings among hunlan folks, are dismissed with 
contempt. Spiritualism has swept all these ethereal puppets off the 
boards of ordinary life. To substitute ,vhat? ".... e nlight at least 
look for an inlprovecl exhibition and l110re interesting" characters; " 
but the truth is, that nothing could be less satisfactory than the mod- 
ern attempt at demon-craft. There is something so ClU1l1SY and in- 
artistic in the ,vhole get-up of the "spiritual" drama, that it is 
ing to find it very gencrally scouted than to see it obtain even 
a partial notoriety. 
Ignorance is the parent of superstition, without a doubt; aua the 
one never exists apart from the other. There is, ho,,-ever, a second 
wise sa,v that tells a great deal of the truth about the origin of that 
,vorIÜ-old bugbear of the hUlnan mind, namely, " The wish is father 
to the thought." 'Vhat we strongly desire to be, we are next door to 
believing to be. The appetite of nlan's vanity is unappeasable, anil 
in catering for it his fancy plays tricks with his reason. lIe longs for 
intercolunnu1Ïon 'with the unknown, and indulges the wish by creating 
 agents for that pnrpose. Tokens, signs, omens, and auguries, 
are also outgrowths of the various forms of desire and vanity. "7 e 
belie\ye we shall have luck if ,ve turn the money in our pocket wben 
looking at new nloon. 1\1('n have waited in all ages for the appear- 
ance of SOlllC favoraùle sign before beginning any enterprise of inl- 
portance. If the sun shines on our wedding-day, how au!'picious! 
Palpably in each case because we desire these things to be! But hav- 
ing set up omens with such an object, v....e, in the cleft-stick of onr o,yn 
superstition, are bound to believe their absenc
, or con"er
e, the fore- 
shadowers of evil. 
In many ,vays 1110dern credulity frees itself from such mechanical' 
trammels as those ,ye have mentioned, to take a form and c0111plexion 
froln the age, losing meanwhile not one jot of its vigor. To dream 
three tilllCS of a hidden treasure and set about, \Yhang-the-
to lay hare the foundations of one's house, is an exploit not to he 
thought of by the veriest wiseacre of our clay; hut the desire to ob- 
tain wealth easily and rapidly being, if finything, more acti\'e and 
r:l1npant, the belief in sonle magicallneans for attaining it is the 11lCSt 
natural thing in the world. An El Dorado is required, and lo! an El 
Dorado is implicitly thought to exist. The projectors of a bogus com- 
pany for" utilizing the clippings of old moons," or " extracting starch 
from granite chips," are the good fairies whonl by propitiating with 
a portion of our substance we hope to enlist in onr behalf, and obtain 
a thon
and-fold return. 'Vhcre such a superstition exists, and it is 
broadcast, any scheme, ho,vever absurd, any s"indle, no matter how 



transparent, ,vill serve for a bait to catch the unwary and over-eager 
fish. Nothing is so purblind as undue acquisitiveness. The ancient 
Highlander with his keen eye to the Inain chance and happy facility 
fur" attaching" whatever c::tlne in his way, found a beautiful horse 
in rich trappings, browsiug ownerless in his path, and, fo11o,ving the 
tinct of his desire rather than the prudence ,vhich tradition should 
bave taught hin1, rashly nlounted. In an instant he was borne aloft, 
then plunged foreyer beneath the dark waters of a tarn on the ba('k 
of the wily and terrible water-kelpie. 'V c, too, have our illu
steeds in this so vaunted age, and neither the teachings of llistory nor 
tlle bitterest experience seems able to prevent the speculator froIn 
vaulting into the saddle, and fortlnvith launching into perdition. 
Chanlls are things of the past, or believed in merely by the vul- 
gar; that is to say, those pretty and fanciful conceits which led our 
ancestors to attach a healing or sanitary virtue to {'ertain 01)jects and 
. cerenlonies are now almost extinct. A spray from the ro"'an-tree is 
no longei' a safeguard against an epiden1Ïe, nor the hand of majesty a 
cure for scroful[J.. Ladies do not no,v believe that the })resence of a 
piece of cold iron on their couch, "'ie/tile uneasy in theh' circ1l'JJz- 
stances," will secure a happy COnSU111nlatiou; nor is a child's caul in 
n1uch reqnest in these days as a protection against fire anr1 drowning. 
True, ,ve have got over these beliefs pretty thoroughly. But is the 
desira for infallible remedies and potent protectives clolle away with 
also ? Not in the least; and though science is doing its best to pro- 
vide honest substitutes in a natural 111ea8ure, tbe public is not satis- 
fied with its efforts. Quacks are the lnodern magicians, and quack 
medicines the charms of latter days. Those who are bald, for in- 
stance, will not accept their fate while a single wcll-puffed e]ixir ,vith 
a Greek nan1e remains untried. There is something saddening, if not 
sickening, in the evident success which attends the pretenses to cure 
chronic and irremediable diseases, to effect n1Íracles in short "Tith tIle 
lllost trumpery of means and execrably sil1y de,
ices. Our forefathers 
were iUlposed npon, no doubt, but ,,
as nlethod in their nladlle
The" simpleR" with ,vhich spac-wivcs anc1 chm'latans professed to 
cnre ailments were in many cases effective and now recognized drugs, 
and were at the \vorst perfectly harmless; ,vhilc the rites ,vith which. 
they were adll1inisterec1, if quite apart from the purpose, yet appealetl 
gracefully to the inulgination. Nowadays, howc\Tcr, the" sinlpl(\s " 
are the patients and not the medicines! The old story. Childlike, 
the acre cries for sonlethincr that it cannot O'et , relecting tIle good that 

 b ::;:, J 
is "Tithin readl. 
In a recent number of this J01û'nal, we baa occa
ion to rl'fe]' to 
the amazing credulity of Americans 011 the subject of professional 
"mecliums." The worst of it is, that tIlC extent to which this has been 
laiù bare is insignificant cOD1pared with that which really remains Ull- 
exposed. The desire to ,york with supernatural to01s in drcctillg the 


paltriest allllineanest of hUlnan ends, would seem to have divided a 
people of accredited shrewdness into the t,vo classes of rogues allll 
dupes. But, as we have seen, we, too, have been singed at the sanle 
fire. There are, moreover, other if minor super
titiolls in our midst 
that suggest the propriety of beginning the task of reformation at 
hOlnc. .1\,11 occasional glance, for illstallce, at the stock ad vertise- 
nlents of leading journals, will convince anyone how ,vide-spread is 
the infatuation that believes ill spurious offers of advantageous em- 
ploynlent. SOlne of these have, under our o,vn observation, been re- 
peated with little variation for more than twenty years; and ,ve have 
no doubt that the wily advertisers are able to calculate to a fraC'tion 
the nUluber and gullibility of their dupes. "'T' e have from time to time 
drawn attention to swindles of this class, as well as to those telnpting 
offers of "1\Ioncy to lend," which appear with equal regularity ill 
newspaper columns. 'Ve are afraid, however, that friendly ,yarning 
and experience are alike unavailing to stenl the lllischief. Thé spread 
of c(lucation itself ,vould appcar unable to outstrip tbe spread of iUl- 
posture or tbe eager credulity that supports it; for superstition merely 
shifts its ground from thue to time, without losing appreciably its 
original dominion o,'er the human mind.- GltaJítbers's Journal. 



P ROF. "T. J. 
I{IXE was horn in Ellinburgh, 
July 5, 1820, and on Christmas-eve, in 1872, he died, before he 
had cOlllpleted his fifty-third year; but in that comparati ,'ely short 
life he had won higher distinction and done morc good ,vork than it 
fan.;; to the lot of 11l0st men to cOlnpass. 
lIe pursued his ordinary school studieB in the Burgh Acadelny of 
the to,vn of Ayr, the high-school of Glasgow? 'Ylwll very young he 
entered the l.T niversity of Edinburgh, where he deyoted himself to 
natural philosophy and natural history, including zoülogy, geology, 
. lnillcralogy, and botany. lIe was a born mathematician, and received 
little aid frolll professional instruction in the branch of science in 
,vhich he subsequently displayed snch great genius. Throughont his 
educational course he reccÏ\ycd valuable aid frolll his father, who was 
a retired lieutenant of the British Army. 
I-lis po.wers were developed at an early age. Before he .was 
t,venty he had ,vrittcn two essays on subjects in pure physics. ....\.t 
eighteen he adopted the profession of civil engineering, and was the 
pnpil of Sir John :\Iacneil for three or four years, a great part of 
which ,,?as spent on engineering ,,'orks in Ireland. Subsequently, he 
was employed for several years on raihvays and sin1Ïlar ,yorks in 


Scotland; ana in 1850, forn1Ïng a partnership with 
lr. John Thom- 
son, C. E., he settled in Glasgow. 

leallwbile he had been busy in purely sci<,ntific pursuits not con- 
nected with his calling, and the value of his work was generally 
recognized. lIe ,vas elected to yarious learned societies, and ill 1853 
was luade a fellow of the Royal Society of London.' The sanle year 
he became a nlember of the British Association, in which he suùse- 
quently held several iInportant l)ositions. During the Duhlin Ineet- 
ing of the Association in 1857, the honorary degree of LL. D. was 
conferred upon him by the university of that city as a mark of the 
emincnce he haJ. gained as a l)hysical investigator. lIe was tllCll 1ut 
thirty-seven years old. 
In 1855 he wa
 made Regius Professor of Civil Engineering und 
l\lechanics in the University of Glasgow, a l)osition ,vhich he held 
with distinction for seventeen years. lIe ,vas an ahle instructor, his 
-aim being to develop the understanding of the student by the culti- 
vation of natural knowledge, and to beget those haùits of close ob- 
servation and persistent aud exact verification which are so e
to the scientific worker in any field. 
Prof. Rankine .was the first President of the Institution of Engi- 
neers of Scotland, and in 1861 was made President of the l'>hilo- 
sophieal Society of Glasgow, contributing mflny pa!)ers to the Pro- 
ceedings of that Society, and on a ,vide range of topics. The honors 
be won in his profession, and in thermo-c1ynan1Ïcs, ,vere rivaled by his 
achievements in nayal architecture, to which his attention ,vas for 
some tiIne givcn. 
IIis \vl'itings ,,'ere exceedingly YOhll11inons. IIis publisl1ed trea- 
tises and manuals included, anlong other
, "
Ianual of .1:\pplied )Ie- 
chanics," "l\lannaI of the Stcarn-Engine ana Other PrÏIuc 1\lov('r8," 
"Civil Engineering," " Useful Rules and Tahles," "Cyclopædia of 
l\Iachine and IIand Tools," "lUanual of l\Iachinpry and 1\Iill-"r ork," 
besides a vcry long catalogue of papers on physics, cspecially tllCrnlo- 
dyn::unic8, applied mechanics, etc. lIis style was a model of scien- 
tific writin
-elegant, exact, lucid in explanation and apt ill illustra- 
tion. In short, his ,vas a mind of the first ordf'r, his original investi- 
gations were of the highest value, and his excellent influence as an 
ingtructor in mouldinO' the minds of his studcnts will he far-reaching. 
ö L 
IIis early death ".3S the penalty of oyerwork, and wa
hy an inlpairment of vision and a derangenlent of the 11('flrt's action 
t were very distressing. lIe yielded to the demand for hodily rcst 
when it becalne iInperatiye; but it ,vas too late. Ilis is nnother name 
added to the long list of those ,vho, UUaer

:1nc.ljng perfectly th(' lin1Ìts 
,of human endurance, seenl to think that their case is e
that their or(J'anislns can be continuousl y overworked with impunity, 
and so go on, heedless of the dUJub protests of the abused body, until 
the ruin is utter and irrevocable. 

23 8 



T HE agitation for a reform in the Civ- 
il Service, as it is called, should it 
result in the establishment of that meas- 
ure, may be expected to produce effects 
not now much anticipated or cared for. 
The essence of the reform is to consist 
in getting better men for office-holders 
than American politics has hitherto af- 
orded-certainl:r a most laudable thing. 
Rut the mode of arriving at the better 
qualified lnen is to be by "examina- 
tions," that is, by the educational test. 
Before candidates can be examined, 
however, and decided upon, it will be 
necessary to arrange the standards by 
which they shall be judged, and one of 
the important effects of the system This marked predominance of dead 
will be to bring to inexorable judgment over living languages, and the still more 
those preliminary standards on which striking predominance of language over 
the whole policy must rest. One of the science, could not fail ultimately to 
reasons why the superstitions and ab.. bring the whole question under critical 
surdities of education are so tenaciously I scrutiny, and has led to a reëstimate of 
persistent, is the difficulty of '"bringing I the educ
tional value of lingual studies. 
the results of so-called culture to direct We pu Lhsh part of a paper read by 
practical test or verification; but the Prof. Rain before the British Social 
examiners who frame the catechism by I Science Association, which deals with 
which candidates for office are to be this important subject, and our readers 
sifted and accepted or rejected, cannot I will find it valuable as a contribution to · 
fail to do something toward the remov- education, regardless of the Ch'il Ser- 
al of this difficulty. In deciding what vice interest, while it illustrates what 
qualifications are desired, they will give must be the effect of that reform in 
judgment npon the method tbat has bringing educational questions into a 
produced them. new aspect. The overshadowing pre- 
The English have tried Civil Ser,ice dominance of language forces an in- 
reform sufficiently long to begin to con- quiry which proves that it is of the 
nect cause and effect, and take account very lowest possible use as a means 
of the validity and worth of its stand- of ll1ental culture. 
ards. They began the system of Ci viI 
Service e},.amination in 1853 by drawing 
up scales of the valuation of different SA rIXGS-BA
kinùs of knowledge as expressed nu- 
merically by nlarks, so that proficiency in 
the various branches could be added up 
and indicate the "standing," as is done 

in many schools. This scheme, of course, 
represented current ideas, and the In- 
dian Civil Service Board decided that 
"in the two great ancient languages 
there ought to be an examination not 
less severe than those examination;; by 
which the highest classical distinctions 
are awarded..'1t Oxford and Cambridge." 
This was for those who aspired to ci'TiI 
positions in India; and how the know-l- 
edges were rated comparatively may be 
inferred from the following examp]es: 
Greek. . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . .. '750 
Latin. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . .. ';50 
French. . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. 3';5 
Gerlnan. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 375 
.Katural sciences. . . . . .. . . . . . . . .. 500 

THE recent scandalous rmyelations 
concerning the manngement of 8a\'Ïn!2'S- 
banks and similar institutions of trust 
hmTe, of course, provoked much dis- 


cussion, and, equally of course, much 
loose talk. 
The obvious fact that many of the 
men who have been chosen, or have 
assumed, to take care of the savings of 
the frugal have proved to be whony 
unworthy shows, it is often argued, an 
alarming decadence in the moral tone 
of the cOInmunity, which is variously 
ascribed according to political or re- 
ligious bias. There are not wanting 
those who assert that the whole social 
organism is unprecedentedly corrupt, 
and that the facts which have trans- 
pired are but a faint precursor of what 
is to come. But it is by no means 
clear that any such doleful view of the 
'situation is warranted. The morals of 
trade llIay be loose enough, but it is 
not readily to be admitted that they 
are deteriorating. 
It is true that the early history of 
savings-banks in this country shows no 
such dark picture. Previous to 1862, 
failures were rare; the banks were, as 
a rule, safely managed by fit men. A 
high order of financial or executive 
ability is not required for the manage- 
ment of a savings-bank, but integrity 
and commOD-sense are; the right paths 
are straight and well beaten-whnt is 
needed is a steadiness of purpose to 
resist the temptntions thnt lead away 
from them. During the last fifteen 
years the number of these institutions 
has largely increased, and the process 
of natural selection does not seem to 
have developed safe officials as fast as 
they were wanted. 
Nor is it alone that it has been ne- 
cessary to put many new and untried 
men in places of trust. A higher de- 
gree of rectitude has been needed to 
bear the strain imposed by the specula- 
tion and recklessness of a period of in- 
flation than was sufficient in the le;o:;s 
trying days which precedef1 this era- 
this ]13.S not al wnys been found. The 
prudence of any gi '
en man or class is 
not a fixed quantity, it is subject to 
fluctuations; it is weakened by the 


spirit of confidence and rashness that 
always marks a period of rbing price
and strengthened by the heroic treat- 
ment of adversity which is sure to 
come in with tIle reaction. 
Of the details of the mismanage- 
ment which Las led to disaster, and of 
the rules for properly conducting such 
institutions, it is not our present purpose 
to speak; but there is one idea whieh 
seems to be fundamental in all the 
remedies proposed that deserves atten- 
State control in some form is the 
sole corrective which, in the opinion 
of those whose views find expression, 
is available; and there is something 
sublime in the faith apparently felt in 
government management, even by those 
who are loudest in their denunciations 
of office-holders - the only agents 
through "horn a state can do its work. 
TlJe recommendations all assume 
one of two forms: 
1. That a system of post-office sav- 
ings-banks, similar to those now oper- 
ating in England, be established; 01'- 
2. That more thorough state inspec- 
tion be instituted with a view to main- 
taining and purifying the present s,ys- 
Opinion is still divided in England 
as to the ultimate SUCCéSS of the scheme 
for post-office banks, but it has, so far, 
worked too 'well to permit unqualified 
condemnation. This success, however, 
has been wrought under conditions that 
do not obtain in the United States. 
In the first place is the wide differ- 
ence in the Civil Service of the two 
countries. Without going- into com- 
parisons it is safe to say that, until our 
much-talked-of reform slwll have made 
some progress, it may be ns weU to go 
slo"T in committing savings-deposits to 
the custody of an irresponsible, ever- 
shifting set of officin18, chosen without 
any reference to their natural fitness or 
t)'aining for the di::,charge of fo'urh a trust. 
",y c aJre:uly hear much of their delin- 
quencies, anù it is certain that the pro- 

24 0 


posed system would add to their temp- pride themselves on being practical, 
tations and the risk of defalcation. and who never fail to have their little 
Secondly, the difficulties in working fling at theorists, should cling to a the- 
the system are greatly enhanced in this ory that has broken down whenever 
country by the 1dde territory over tested. 
1yhich it must extend, to at all meet Official examination has had a very 
the requirements of the people. thorough trial in this country; it has 
Thirdly, the banking branch of the been a feature of tlle national banking 
Post-Office Department could not be system since its organization in 18G4; 
made self-sustaining, and at the same the history of these banks has, as a 
time pay a rate of interest that would whole, been creditable, but scores of 
draw depobits. It is not likely that 3}- them have failed, many disgracefqlly, 
per cent. would be sati
factory when and the worst of them in localities 
there are perfectly sound banks that can where it mj,ght be expected tllat the 
pay five per cent.; ap.d yet 3! is prob- examinatiom,-would be most thorough; 
ably nlore tlum the Department could while the life-insurance companies and 
afford to pay. Following the rule of savings-banks of :K ew York bave long 
the English system, and the only safe been objects of legislative solicitude 
one, it must invest its deposits in Gov- and official care, with results that do 
ernment securities, on which it cannot not need to be told here. 
now realize more than four per cent. The theory of State intervention in 
Out of the half per cent. margin must such matters is fallacious; private en- 
come all expenses and the loss of inter- terprise, if left to itself, would compass 
est on unused balances. The Depart- the desired end much better than any 
ment could not even take the very ne- governmental machinery. The indórse- 
cessary precaution of keeping a ca
h ment which the State gives to a new 
reserve against deposits, and though it institution, by granting a charter and 
may be said that the degree of confi- nominally assuming a supervisory con- 
dence would be so great as to preclude a trol, endo,,'s it with an air of respecta- 
run, and so no resen'e would be needeù, bility and solidity which it could not 
it will be found that if the Government, otherwise command, and ,,-hich is for 
through any of its departments, goes the most part illusive. If depositors 
into banking, it will be amenable to understood that their sole reliance wns 
the rules that govern banking opera- I the character of the Inen they were 
tions. It could be readily shown, if dealing with, and that the only super- · 
space permitted, that the Department vision would be such as they chose to 
would be a constant dealer in bonds, exercise, they would soon come to se- 
buying on a high market, and selling lect the guardians of their savings with 
on a low one-a process not conducive greater care, and scan their acts more 
to profit-and it is highly probable that closely. 
from these various causes the chronic The State has it legit
mate function 
deficit of the mail-ser"rÎce would be in- wIlich it has very imperfectly fulfilled 
creased by the losses incurred in the in this connection; it is competent to 
banking department, a. result which enforce the performance of contracts; 
could not be defended on any tenable to visit punishment upon neg1igent or 
ground. di
honest officials; to secure prompt 
K ext, as concerning State inspec- and inexpensive justice to the sufferers 
tion. It is certainly remarkable that a. in event of failures. This has not been 
system which has been tried so fully done, but insteaù, contracts have been 
and fnBed so utterly, should still be so shamelessly broken with impunity; fel- 
implicitly relied on; that meD, who ony has been openly compounded; and 


the proceedings of winding-up defunct 
banks have been dilatory and extrava- 
gant-conducted with a disregard of 
the interests of the depositors that 
differs frolll common swindling only 
in having the sanction of the courts. 
If the State had performed the duties 
which manifestly belong to it, there 
would be less clamor now for it to step 
out of its proper sphere to Inanage 
financial corporations. 
It is true that the public has been 
Inarvelously credulous. Any advent- 
urer who could raise money enough to 
put up a sign and make large promises 
would find some trusting fools to leave 
their money with him, and it almost 
sèems that they should be protected 
against themselves; but efforts which 
niru to protect people frmn the conse- 
quences of their own folly, however 
amiable they 1uay be, are rarely suc- 
cessful; it is best in the end to let 
people reap the reward of their stu- 
"C nfortunately, the average deposi- 
tor in savings-hanks labors under disad- 
vantages in being without facilitifs for 
getting information or training which 
would help him to form an inteHigent 
judgment on it when obtained; but 
this is one of the unpleasant concomi- 
tants of ignorance from which there is 
no way of escape except througll the 
acquirement of knowledge. The pub- 
lic docs not seem very apt in gaining 
this sort of know ledge; but only as 
it is mastered will a better condition 
of things be reached. The teachings 
of the last few years have been very 
thorough, and it is to be hoped that 
confidence will be more intelligently 
placed in the future than it bas been in 
the recent past; that new candidates 
for it will find that more strenuous and 
legitimate measures are needed. 
A gooù deal is said about the p]lilan- 
thropy of this dass of institut'Ïons; but 
 would douhtless show that the 
altruistic element in them is the merest 
trace. They are formed ùy men who 
VOL. XII.-16 

24 1 

are selfish enough to desire to make 
them as large anù prosperous as may 
be; it will not need a great prolonga- 
tion of the present state of feeling to 
teach them that the way to success is 
to offer the highest guarantees of gooù 
management and security, and see to it 
that these guarantees be real. 
As to the best methods of convinc- 
ing the pu bHc of tIwir trustworthiness. 
that may safely be lcft to the mnnngers 
themsehTes; the utmost 11Uùlicity and 
fullness in the statements of conùition, 
and the greatest freedom for the in- 
spection of accounts and securities by 
depositors, or those in their interest; 
would contriùute much to that end. 


nw ME
JACOBI, .M. D. The Boylston Prize Es- 
say of Harvard University for 1876. 
Pp. 232. New York: G. P. Putnam's 
Sons, 187'7. Price, $3.50. 
IT is fortunate for that group of physi- 
ological and social conditions involved in 
what is termed tlw ""\Y' oman Question" 
that it has been investigated in one of itE! 
most important aspects by an author not 
only specially prepared by education and 
training to do it justice, but one, so to 
speak, " to the manner born." The motive 
of Dr. Putnam-Jacobi's book seems to be to 
close the discussion opened by Dr. Clarke in 
his" Sex in Education," rather than to make 
a direct answer to his argument That it 
does not close this discussion, and fUJ'ni:-h 
an authoritative canon to measure the value 
of the" question of rest for women," is tbe 
fault partly of the material gathered, and 
partly of the method of handling the facts. 
There is no difficulty in the way of doctors, 
male or female, collecting facts relating to 
women Eick; but, when faets are needed 
concerning women well, the innate delicacy 
of the sex is in arms against the statistician. 
This is evident when we state that, of 1,000 
circulars calling for information regarding 
the E:exual history of women in different oc- 
cupations, but 2GB were an

24 2 


The second section of the book deals 
with the facts obtained in reply to this 
circular. These facts relate to the condi- 
tion of health of childhood, and of parents 
or sisters; the age of going to and leaving 
school; the number of hours of study, of 
exercise; the nature of the study or occu- 
pation; pain during menstruation; the 
need and length of rest during tbe continu- 
ance of that function, and the time wben 
rest fir3t became necessary. The strength 
is measured by exercise, and several other 
conditions naturally suggested by the ques- 
tions are gh'en. These facts are tabulated 
under groups distinguh;hed by either the 
total absence of pain or its presence at va- 
rious periods. The author makes ingenious 
but legitimate use of her figures, hampered 
by the small number of individuals subject- 
eù to analysis. The number is sufficient, 
however, to foreshadow what is probably 
the amount of disability entail('d upon 
women by the need of rest. Too much 
stress appears to be laid upon the mere 
prcsence of pain and the incapacity to work 
re.sulting from it, as if this were the only 
source of disability. 'Vomen are sometimes 
obliged to take rest from the nervous de- 
pression and mental disturbance which at- 
tend the exercise of the ovarian function; 
but it is possible that it is the better way, 
when the interpretation of the causes of in- 
capacity is left to the average individual, 
that some well-understood term like" pain" 
be adopted. The section on statistics being 
long and complicated, we must overlook the 
steps of the process, and confine ourselves 
to the results. 
Out of the number of women inter- 
rogated (286 cases), 94, or 3
 per cent., de- 
clare themselves always free from discom- 
fort (pain ?) during menstruation; by adding 
to this number 46, who only suffered slight- 
ly, or occasionally during that period, this 
proportion is raised to 59 per cent. ; on the 
other hand, 128 women, or 47 per cent., 
suffered seriously from pain; in them men- 
struation was, therefore, a morbid pro- 
cess. "In all such cases," remarks the au- 
thor, "rest during the existence of such 
pain is as desirable as during the occur- 
rence of any other." Of the 162 painful 
cases, including all degrees of pain, 53 per 
cent. had been so from the beginning; and 

in 47 per cent. the habit had been acquired. 
The relation of the age at which schooling 
began and the time spent in school to this 
catamenial pain is not very evidcnt, as this 
condition is very nearly alike in all the 
groups. Of the painful group 18 per cent. re- 
ceived very little education, while in the nor- 
mal group none are so specified. Of the first 
only eight per cent. pursued advanced studies 
beyond the age of twenty-two against 16 per 
cent. in the latter. Dr. Putnam-Jacobi is led 
to the conclusion from her figures, which 
are unfortunately too limited to afford.even a 
guess at the real truth, that the highest edu- 
cation giv
 to women is the most favorable 
to menstrual health; the least favorable be- 
ing the ornamental education. In the mat- 
ter of physical education, it was found that 
those who never suffered pain exel'cised 
more than the other class; but all classes 
were found to exercise too little during 
childhood and girlhood. The tables show 
that the family history exerts a greater in- 
fluence over the menstrual life than occu- 
pation. The figures prove that two-thirds 
of those who suffered periodical pain inher- 
ited some special or general constitutional 
defect. Physical ,igor, as measured by the 
capacity for exercise, ,vas shown among 
those free from pain in the ability to walk 
an average of fi,e miles; the average for 
those who habitually suffered pain was three 
and a quarter miles; and for the cases of 
slight or acquired pain four miles. "Capa- 
city for exercise was nearly always in in- 
verse proportion to the habit of pain." The 
tables show that persons without occupa- 
tion suffered from painful menstruation in 
much larger proportion than those who 
were occupied. One would infer from this 
that the author, in a measure, traced this 
result to the want of occupation; while we 
should reverse the conditions of cause and 
effect, and explain the lack of occupation 
by the incapacity resulting from the peri- 
odical pain. The concIu!'ion is also reached 
from the fact that marriage is opposed to 
the existence of babitual periodical pain. 
And, lastly, "as regards rest-the most im- 
portant question for our purpose-we have 
seen that the above data do not suffice to 
inform us of its influence; " and thus, so far 
as the main theme of the book is con- 
cerned, the autþor leaves the" question of 


rest for women" in just the condition in 
which she found it. 
The third section, occupying fifty pages, 
is a review of the various theories of men- 
struation, and shows considerable research. 
The next section is devoted to what the 
autllOr calls experimental research upon six: 
persons in the form of daily tabulated state- 
ment::; of pulse, temperature, dynamics, and 
the excretion of urea, before, after, and dur- 
ing ovulation. The general results to be 
gathered from the tables are, that e:x:cretion 
of urea is increased previous to the hæmor- 
rhage over the usual amount, although there 
were many exceptions to this rule, individ- 
ual peculiarities generally governing the 
results. The number of cases obser,ed, 
however, was too small to afford conclu- 
sions. The same objection may be made 
against the d
-namometer and temperature 
tests. Phy::;iological experiments of this 
nature always require a sufficient number 
of subjects to reduce individual peculiari- 
ties and accidental conditions to a minimum 
ill the mean results. The state of the cir- 
culation is given a very careful study by 
means of the sphygmograph before, during, 
and after menstruation, fmm which obser- 
vations the author concludes that there is 
an increase in the tension of the arteries 
seven to nine days preceding menstruation, 
to be lowered, as a rule, a few hours after 
the beginning of the hæmorrhage, reach ing 
it:, minimum after its cessation. This in- 
crease in intermenstrual arterial tension, 
being similar to that observed in pregnan- 
cy, leads the author to this remarkable con- 
clu:5ion-" that in aU thcse respects the in- 
termenstl'1lal, and especially the premen- 
strual, period represents a pregnancy in 
miniature." :From the facts gathered in 
this experimc-ntal cJlapter, "it should fol- 
low," the author says, "that reproduction 
in the human female is not intermittent, 
but incessant; not periodical, but rhyth- 
mic; not dependent, on the voJitions of ani- 
mal life, but as involuntary and inevitable 
as are all the phenomena of nutritive life." 
From what we know of the author, we be- 
lieve the phraseology of the above will be 
materially altered in the next edition. .Aside 
from the unscientific use of words, and the 
strained meaning put upon the word '!Jilt- 
pÛc, the author confounds reproduction 


with the conditions essential to reproduc- 
tion. It conflicts al
o with reasoning to 
which this is designed to be the natural 
conclusion. For instance, on page 98, 
speaking of the Graafian vesicles, she salS 
that, "as the process of their development 
is gradual, the periods of rupture arc ne- 
cessarily intermittent;" and, as if to pre- 
clude all iùea of rhythmic action, she says, 
further, it "is one of the most irregular of 
physi010gical phenomena." 
\Ve shall end our notice by a few re- 
marks on the conclusions with which the 
author closes the book. 
Menstrual pain, in
tead of being the re- 
suIt of want of rest, depends upon-I. "Im- 
perfect power of resistance in the nerve- 
centres." This presupposes an inherent 
tendency to pain in all women during this 
act, its expref'sion depending on the power 
of repression, although this alternative is 
evaded by the author. 2. Organic defects; 
and, lastI}', acquired pain, which may depend 
upon conditions common to both sexes in 
the gene5is of disease; upon causes mainly 
due to parturition, and thus peculiar to 
women; or "from two cam:;es, very much 
more frequently operative in women than 
men, namely, ill-arranged work and celi- 
bacy." 'Vhether this work is "ill-ar- 
ranged" with reference to time or not, the 
author does not inform us. The conclusion 
is natural that this ill-arrangement is due 
to the need of intervals of rest, since 
work and rest are natural antitheses. The 
evil effccts of celibacy are insisted upon in 
several places. The author even rises to 
the heights of impassioned prose, when she 
says that "many others never obtain the 
opportunity to bear a single child, for 
which, ne\ ertheless, every fitre of their 
physical and moral being is yearning." 
\Vhile we cannot express ourselves so poet- 
ically, we concur in the idea; but it is not 
a little singular that, since the motive of the 
book is to demonstrate woman's capacity 
for continuous work during certain periods, 
the derangements due to matrimony re- 
ceive no attention. The fifth and Jast 
conclusion is that "there is nothing in the 
nature of menstruation to imply the neces- 
sity, or even the desirability, of rest for 
women whose nutrition is reany normaJ." 
Yet, upon the previous page, in speaJ\.ing 



of the presence of pain in 46 per cent. of 
women, it is traced among other things to 
"work that is either absolutely excessive, 
or e'{cessive relative to woman's constitu- 
tion, by being prolonged too much during a 
single session, or else which is insufficiently 
relieved by recreation." It is impossible to 
read this last section of the book without 
coming to the conclusion that the author 
in many instances is reasoning against her 
The author does not seek to evade the 
fact that 46 per cent. of women suffer a 
greater or less degree of pain during this 
time, and yet it has not the slightest bear- 
ing upon woman's efficiency to work while 
thus suffering to say, as the author does, 
that this pain is not directly dependent upon 
the need of rest. If we recognize in pain 
the ideal curse of humanity, we may form 
a notion of what a woman must undergo 
who, under the lash of necessity or duty, 
carries her burden of pain to her daily 
tasks. It matters not whether the pain is 
evaded, or mitigated or not by rest, it is a 
panacea instinctively sought. It accords 
also with the universal experience of medi- 
cal men that pelvic pain, or hyperæmia, is 
quieted by rest, and this is as true of men- 
strual pain as of any other condition. Such 
a fact as this cannot be reasoned away by ar- 
guments drawn fwm speculative physiology. 
But we must recognize in this book a 
new departure in the literature of the ques- 
tion. It is something new, as well as a 
grand stride in the right direction, for the 
advocates of woman's immunity from any- 
thing like physical restraints to labor to 
investigate facts and to couch this investi- 
gation in scientific language. The faults of 
the book are mainly those of hasty prepa- 
ration, both in the collection of data and 
the arguments based upon them. 'Ye are 
satisfied that, with a wider range of facts 
and greater deliberation in handling them, 
many of the hasty generalizations which we 
have pointed out would not have occurred. 
The book shows hard and honest work, and 
dernonstmtes tIle great capacity of Dr. 
Putnam-Jacobi for scientific investigation. 

THIS little tract is designed to show the 
working-man's wife how she may provide 

for hcr household a sufficiency of good, 
wholesome food at a cost easily within tile 
means of the poorly-paid day-laborer. An 
edition of 50,000 copies has been published 
by the author for gratuitous distribution, 
and it would be an act of humanity to aid 
in circulating the book among the class who 
have need of the information it contains. 
The poorer cla
s of people are, in propor- 
tion to their means, far more wasteful than 
the rich, and the information here conveyed 
cannot fail to be highly profitable to them. 

Lieutenant - Commander F. 
I. Gm;E
U. S. Xavy. \Yashington: Goycrnment 
Printing-Office, 1877. 
X Å VIGATORS, geographers, and others, 
are constantly demanding improved values 
of the geographical coördinatcs of places on 
the earth's surface, as the demands of their 
pursuits become more and more exacting. 
\Vben the longitude of a slow-sailing vessel 
was obtained by observations of lunar dis- 
tances a large uncertainty in the resultinf: 
datum was inevitable, and was expected and 
aIlowed for. ]{odern practice in steamers, 
where every additional hour's run means the 
expenditure of yaluable fuel, etc., and where 
an uncertainty as to the ship's position is 
subsequently paid for by the owner in the 
expenses of the voyage, demands something 
more than the approximate longitudes of 
prominent seaports, which before were suf- 
This want bas ùeen long felt, and the es. 
tablishment of secondary meridians has been 
attempted in many places and by various 
nations. In 1866 a committee of the French 
Bureau des Longitudes was directed to pre- 
pare a plan for fixing a certain number of 
fundamental secondary meridians, separated 
by convenient distances, all round the world; 
and, in 
Iarch, 1867, their report having 
been submitted to the :Minister of Marine, 
its immediate execution was directed. A 
commission of eminent French naval offi- 
cers was organized to superintend tbe prep- 
aration for this work and its performance, 
and five or six parties of skillful observers 
were, after several months of preliminary 
study and practice, dispatched with their 
instruments to various parts of the world to 
make obsCl"vations of moon-culmintaions to 


determine the difference of longitude be- 
tween thcir respective stations and the me- 
ridian of Paris. .At that time, the present 
,wide extension of submarine cables could 
not be foreseen. This commission fixed 
several points in the 'Vest Indies, and from 
e longitudes were counted by French 
and other navigators. Other points in this 
region were established by other nations; 
and frequent discrepancies arose, for which 
there was no remedy, except an entirely 
new and independent determination by the 
accurate method of telegraphic longitudes. 
In view of the importance of the com- 
merce of the United States with the 'Vest 
Indies, the Hydrographer of tbe U. S. Navy 
determined to undertake this task, and ac- 
cordingly a plan for its completion was pre- 
pared and the execution of this plan was 
ccnfided to Lieutenant-Commander Green. 
This plan was very comprehensive, and in- 
cluded the determination of the latitude of 
each of the following stations, together with 
its longitude from the U. S. K aval observa- 
tory of 'Vashington, which was already tele- 
graphically connccted with Greenwich. 
The stations selected were: 1. Key 'V est; 
2. Havana; 3. Santiago de Cuba; 4. Kings- 
ton (Jamaica); 5. Aspinwall; 6. Panama; 
7. San Juan (Porto Rico); 8. St. Thomas; 
9. St. Croix; 10. St. Johns (Antigu'l); 11. 
St. Pierre piartinique); 12. Bridgetown (Bar- 
bados); 13. Port Spain (Trinidad). 
Station 1 was already connected with 
'Yashington through the labors of the Coast 
Survey. It is to bc noted that stations 2 
and 3 furni::;h a basis for an accurate sur- 
vey of Cuba, that 5 and 6 furnish starting- 
points for the whole sea-coast of Mexico and 
Central America, and that 6, in connection 
with the longitude of Santiago de Chile (al- 
ready determined in position by two Amer- 
ican astronomers, Gilliss and Gould), will 
furnish a basis for the survey of the west 
t of South Amcrica. The north coast 
of Routh America is fixed by the stations 
Õ and 13 (already the Hydrographic Office 
bas publi:,hed the results of chronometer 
expeditions, between these pointE', made un- 
der its direction by Commander Ryan, U. 
R N., in 1877). On station 8 many longi. 
tudes, previously dctermined, dC'pend; and 
the other stations amply E:uffice to fix the 
""indward and Virgin I
lands. Thus the 
comprehensive plan of the expedition, to- 


gether with that of the expedition sent out 
by tbe H)Tdrographic Office in 1877, under 
the same distinguished officer, will practi. 
cally suffice to fix neady the whole eastern 
anù northern of South America, 
and will furnbh bases for the establishment 
of the coast-line of Mexico and much of the 
,rest coast of the Southern Continent. The 
expedition of 1877 contemplates the junc. 
tion of station 13 with Lisbon, :Madeira, 
Cape V crd, Para, Rio, 1tIontevidco, and 
Buenos Ayres. 
The work necessary to the final fixing of 
the positions of these thirteen stations was 
done in 1874-'76, and is described in detail 
in the report bcfore us. 
Full descriptions ofthe instruments (with 
plates), the mpthods of ùbservation and re. 
duction, etc., are given in this volumc, to 
which we refer for particulars which would 
be out of place here. Suffice it to say that 
the results are of the same grade of excel- 
lence as those attained in similar work of 
the highest class all over the world. A 
special point of excellence is the absolute 
uniformity of programme at each of the sta- 
tions in each of the expeditions, and this con- 
tributed in no small degr
e to the exccllence 
of the results. This expedition reflects great 
credit upon the navy and upon all concerned 
in its planning and execution, and is espe- 
cially noteworthy as being the fir:;t expedi- 
tion of the kind undertakcn by naval offi- 
cers of any country in foreign ports. It is 
to be hoped that this important service to 
navigation and geography will be followed 
by othcr similar work hardly Jess needed. 

\ Di
course at the Annual Meeting of the 
American Puùlic Health Association, 
October, 1876. Cambridge: Riverside 
THE doctrine of the survival of the .fit- 
test is now widely recognizeù as the key to 
all progress toward thè perpetuation and 
perfection of the species, at leaf:t so far as 
the lower orders arc concerned, and up to 
a eertain point in the development of bu- 
But with the founctì.tion of societies an 
opposite doctrine has beC'n introduced. In- 
stead of the pitile
s dc:-:truction of the weak 
and the infirm, which marks the operations 

24 6 


of the law of natural selection, they are f05- 
tered, cared for, and allowed to propagate 
their kind. " Society preserves for the pro- 
genitors of tbe future alike the weak, the 
strong, the diseased, and the healthy. If, 
then, this blind law of natural selection is 
the one key to progress, man must degen- 
erate." One school of statistical writers 
maintains that tbis result does actually ap- 
Bllt :Mr. Lewis shows conclusively that, 
while "civilization does largely sacrifice 
one principle of progress - the law of 
evolution by survivorship - it introduces 
:mother still more potent principle ,,
longevity. The outeome of careful Lreed- 
ing for a few generations, with a view to 
improvement in this direction, would pro- 
duce a people who would live to a patri- 
archal age. The idea of such stirpiculture 
as this is repulsive to our present habits of 
thought. It is probable that the idea will 
never be realized, but there is a tendency 
toward something of that kind. 
1.[1'. Lewis truly says that the subject 
leads us to the door of a world of restless 
thought and speculation. 
The paper is extremely interesting and 

F. R. S. London and Kew York: 
mman & Co., 1877. Pp. 375. Price, 
E of the best of the U Science Primer 
Series" \fa!:' that of Dr. Geikie on "Physical 
Geography," which in the present volume is 
expanded into the form of a text-book for 
rather more advanced scholars. 
The author is undoubted authority on 
this subject, and may be fully trusted, and 
his material is well arranged for the pur- 
poses of teaching. The illustrations are 
taken close at hand, and not only show the 
way in which effects, with which we are 
familiar, have been produced, but teach the 
collateral lesson that Nature's processes are 
uniform; that the most stupendous results 
of far-away land:; or past time have hecn 
wrought by the san1P methods that are in 
operation here and now. This is a lesson 
that scientific men were slow to..learn, and 
it has not hitherto been sufficiently tau
in our text-books. It is something gained 

when a boy, watching the little streams of a 
summer shower making their way through 
a sand-bank, knows that he is looking on 
the same forces at work that make and waste 
a continent. 
The book is freely illustrated with good 
woodcuts, and with maps f-:howing the dis- 
tribution of atmospheric pres
ure, tempera- 
ture, volcanoes and earthquakes, ocean-cur- 
rents, de. 

. 834. 'Yashington: Gov- 
ernment J>rintillg-Office. 
IT would be impossible, within the nar- 
row compass of a book-notice, to summa- 
rize the contents of this valuable repol't; 
indeed, the space at our disposal would be 
insufficient even to give a simple list of the 
many wonderful natural curiosities and in- 
teresting ancient ruins here for the first 
time described and pictured. Then, in ad- 
dition to the reports of the geologi5ts and 
togpographers, we hayc an elaborate mon- 
ograph on the American bison, by J. A. 
 and a voluminous report by Dr. A. 
S. Packard, Jr., on the Rocky Mountain 
locust and other insects injurious to the 
field and garden crops of the 'Vestern Ter- 

Pp. 362. "Tith numerous Figures and 
Plates. 'Yashington: Government Print- 
DR. COCES has for some time been en- · 
gaged in preparing a systematic bh:tory of 
the Korth American mammals, both livin
and e'\:tinct, and the present volume is of- 
fered as a specimen of the method of treat- 
ment to be adopted in that work. The 
group of animal forms described in this 
monograph, the family 
Illsfdirlæ, he divides 
into five sub-families, namely, Jlw;trlinæ 
(wolverene, marten, weasel), ],[ephitinæ 
(skunk), },[eli næ (badger), Luti'inæ ( otter), 
ydl'inæ (sea-otter). The material on 
wbieh the author bases his systematic clas- 
sification is sufficiently voluminous, namely, 
the collections made by Hayden's Rm've)', 
of which he is the naturalist, and those of 
the Xational "Museum at 'Vashington. Th2 
purely scientific and technieal a
pects of 
the subject-matter are, of course, discussed 


with aU requisite detail, and there is no I Br<;wne'8 PllOnographic Montllly. Ne
" York: 
., D. L. Scott-Browne. V 01. I., pp. 144. $.... a year. 
doubt that the work wIll be prIzed by nat- Chemistry: Theoretical, Practical, and An- 
uralists as a substantial contribution to aJyticaJ. I'arts 21-23. Pl1iladelpllia: Lippincott 
. & Co. 50 cents each. 
zoölogical science. But, at the same tIme, Metallurgical Re'CÏew. New York: D. \Vil- 
the intercsts of a larger circle, viz., the ]iams. Vol. I., NO.2, VI'. Ð6. $5 a yea.r. 
d teù thouo'h unscientific P ublic have Report of Steamboat Im"ppctio
 in Cannd
e uca 0 'Ottawa: :Maclean, Rogers & Co. prmt. Pp.3-16. 
110t been overlooked. Indeed, what may Anales del :Museo Kacional de
Iéxico, tom. 
be callcù thc " P opular" aspccts of the sub- I., entreg-
.1a. México: Cárlos Ramiro print. 
· . .. Pp. 46. '
lth Plate. 
ject in hand, namcly, the hfc-hIstories of Catalogue of the :Missouri State Ll1iven;ity. 
the species and their economic and other Jefferson City: Regan &; Carter print. Pp. 160. 
. ,. . d d I h Preservation of "Tood as adapted to Ship- 
practIcal relatIOns, are conSI ere at engt. buiJding. By C. E. :Mulll"oe. Chuemont, N. H.: 
Manufacturing Co. print. Pp. 16. 
Immediate J!'uHHlment of Pr(\phecy. BJ" Cap- 
tain J. E. Cole. New York: O'Kcete print. Pp. 
8 of the American PhiJologÏeRl As- 
sociation. Hartford: Casc, Lockwood & Brain- 
ard Co. print. Pp. 52. 
Latimer Collection of Antiquities. By O. T. 
:MaEon. From" Smithsoniau Heport for 18î6." 
Immortality of the Soul. By C. Skelton, 
M.D. Trenton, N. J. : Naar, Day & Naa.r print. 
Overturning the 'Vorld. By Dr. G.1'tI. Ram- 
sey. New York: P. F.1'tIcBreen print. Pp.27. 
Iodates of Cobalt and Nicke1. By F. ,Yo 
Clarke. From American Journal oJ Science. 
CaJendar of the L'niversity of Minnesota. 
:Mhmeapo]iR: The UnivereÏty. Pp. 104. 
International Conference on Education. 
\Vashiugton: Government Printing-Office. Pp. 
The )Iemhrana Tympani as a Phonnnt\.)graph. 
New York: W. \Vuod & Co. With l1eliot
1\1 eteorologieal Research('s for the U!'Ie of 
Coast Pilot
. Part I. 'Vith Charts. Wn:-<bing- 
ton: Government Printing-Office. Pl'. 49. 
ShouJd Comparative Anatomy he includeè1 in 
a Medical COUfEe? By Dr. ß. U. "Wilder. Ncw 
York: Appletons. Pp. 35. 
Four Great Eras in Modern Astronomy. By 
Jacob Ennis. Cambridge: WilSOll &, Son print. 
The Force that put all the Heavcns in Mo- 
tion. By Jacob Ennis. Pp.23. 
Standard Public Time. By Jacob Ennis. 
Cambridge: Printed for the Observatory. Pp. 
Official Circular No. 8 of Johns nopkins 
University. Pp. 12. 
Cable-making and SUf"pension Bridge8. By 
'W. I!ildenbrnnd. New York: Van Nostrand. 
pp. 121. 50 cents. 

LAIUS. Eùited by Rear-Admiral C. H. 
DAVIS. Pp. 696. '\Vasbington: Gov- 
ernment Printing-Office. 
THE .3tory of the gallant Captain Charles 
Francis Hall is here told in Himple, unaf- 
fected style; indced, as it would appear, 
for the most part in the very words of Hall 
himself, and of his companions in danger 
and misfortune. The volume is of quarto 
size, 011 heavy calendered paper, elegantly 
printed, and adorned with a steel-plate por- 
trait of Captain Hall, a vignette of the Po- 
laris, some forty full-page wood engravings, 
numcl'OUs smaller engravings, and six maps. 
It is, indeed, a fitting monument to the gen- 
ius and intrepidity of Captain Hall and the 
modest heroism of his officers and cre\v. 


Natural Law. By Edith Simcox. Boston: 
Osgood. Pp. 373 
llh:torv of the Ottoman Turks. By Sir E. S. 
Crf'fisy. New York: Holt & Co. Pp.574. $2,50. 
The World's Progress. G. P. Putnam, f'ditor. 
New York: Putnam's Sons. Pp.102Ft $4.50. 
Freethinkincr find Plain SpE'aking. By Le!"lic 
Stf'Dhen. Nc\v""York: Putnam's Sons. Pp.3G2. 
OutlinE'R of 1\fodern Cherni!"try. By C. Gil- 
bf'rr 'Wheeler. New York: A. S. Barnes & Co. 
Pp. 231. *1.75. 
History of Matf'ria1if1m. By F. A. Lange. 
BO"'tOl1: 08!!00d & Co. Yo1. I., pp. 350. 
ThroulJ'h Rome On. RvNathaniel R. Waters. 
New York: c. P. SOl1wrby. Pp.352. $1.';5. 
Tl1f' Religion" Feelin!!. By NE'wman 
New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co. Pp.171. 
Onr Common Inf1ectFl. Bv A. 
. Packard, Jr. 
Roston: Ei"'tes & Lauriat. Pp. 22:). $1.50. 
Tables for the Df'termination of :Min('ral
. By 
Pf'r"-ifor Frazer, Jr. Philadelphia: Lippincott 
& Co. Pp. 119. $2. 
Smith80nian Report for 1876. 'Washington: 
Government Printing-Office. Pp. 4
VilItl!!e Tmprov('mcvtq and Farm Vi11a,!!es. 
By G('org(' E. 'Varin1!, Jr. Boston: Osgood & 
Co. Pp. 21"0. 75 c('uts. 

. RyJ. ""'. NVRtrom. New 
York: Putnam's Sonl5. Pp. 185. $2.50. 




Tlw fnited 
b\tes PharmarOIlæia, as is 
well known, 11as been issued in re,-ised 
editions every ten years, since its fir
t ap- 
pearancc in 1830. These revisions have 
been made under th(' finthority and direc- 
tion of "the Kational Convention for re. 
visinrr the Pharmficopæia," consistÌJlg of 
dele;tes from medical and plJarmaceutical 
C ollco'es' the real "orl
, howevcr, has 
c , 


YC.b-' JIO....YTHLl r . 

nu\illly re
ted in the hand
 of a few per- 
son,:;, "ho have at the :'i.Ulll
 time published 
the very remuneratin
 h Dispcns.l.torJ of 
the r nited Stat('
.') The fifth edition of 
 rnited B-tate::; rharmacopæia, i5sued 
three years aftcr the convention met in 

, did not, howl
vel., meet with the for- 
mer nppronl.l, and Wi.l:, left \\ ithout its cu
tomaQ l
omUlelltary, inasmuch as tbe au- 
thors of the Dispensatory f.dled to prepare 
in time 8 new edition supplementing the 
new Pharmacopæia. Sugge:;tion::; for an ear- 
lier revision of the rharlllacopæia than in 
1880 have since been mlvanced; and a 
new dl
parture advocated in the method 
:ulll scope of the re\"ision. Dr. Edward 
R. Squibb, of Brooklyn, submitted to the 
_\merican )!l
dical _bsociation an elaborate 
plan for a new and completer work, to be 
prepared by cxperts, under the control of 
that _\s
ol'i.\tion. This plan, however, 
 abruptly rejected by the ...-\.merican 
:Yedical _\

ociation at its recent meeting 
in Chicago, mainly on the ground that the 
work of pharmacopæial revision i5 not ap- 
propriate to that bod). The .American 
Pharmaceutical A5:;ociation, too, of which 
Dr. Squibb is ahm a, member, and to which 
his had been pres.ented, objected to it 
on account of the unequal share accorded SalityJir -'rid as a Rrmrdy for Rhrnma- 
to pharm.lcy in the management of the tism.-The value of salicylic add a::; a 
"ork. medicine in the treatment of rheumatism 
The pI.\n to obtain a better Pharmaco- has bt"en under di
cus::-ion for some time, 
pæia at an eJ.rlier date, and Wlder n
w the weight of authority plainly inclining 
management, would practically ha\"e failed toward an affirmatÏ"ve solution of the prob- 
for the present, if it \\ ere not for the judi- lem. _\s a specimen of the fa\"omhle re- 
cious. and prompt action and ener

Y of Dr. suhs obtained by tIJe use of tbe llrug, Wè 
Frederick Hoff'nann, of X ew York, who car- quote the ob5er\"atiolls of Dr. L. P. Yandell, 
riel! the subject,when dropped by Dr. Squibb, Jr., as 
tated in his" Report on )tì.teria 
mto the American Pharmaceutical 

50cia- l[edica" to the Kentucky State 'iedical 
tion at it5 recent annual meeting at Toronto. Society. Dr. Yandell's report treats of a 
He oftèred the re
olution, that the .Åmer- number of recently-introduced drug
; it is 
ican Pharmi\ceutical .A
.5ociation elect a published in the Louisl'ille JIeáical 
Commi ttee to prepare a complete Phar- Hi5 experience with salicylic acid may be 
macopæÏL'\ which mõ.l.Y be submitted to the briefly stated as follows: First, in the City 
criticism of the medic.ll Bnd pharmaceu- Hospital of Loui5\"il1e, nine eases of acute 
tical profe;;:sions, and may be proposed to articular rbeumatism were treated with this 
the above-mentioned Sational Convention drug. and a "perfect cure" effected; in 
(,)r re\"i
ing the Pharmacopæia. This rcsolu- e\"ery instance the disease was arrested 
tion p.1.5
ed unanimously; and the result within three day=', and in se"\"eral cases 
, that a committee was appointed for relief W3S obt.lÌned in from eight to t\\"el"\"e 
Ùis purpose, which has agreed upon a plan hours. The drug did not appear to hase 
of it;;: work and has 5elected the experts to any antipyretic effect. The patients took 
;lccomplish it. Dr. Hoffmann, of Xew York. I the acid in ten and twenty grain do
, in 

 taken charge of the chemical part of 
the new PharmacopæÏLl, Prof. )hi::;ch, of 
Philadelphia, of the department of phar- 
macognosy; and Yr. Rice, of Xew York, 
represents pharmac). This committee bas 
promptly entered upon its labors, and 
e:\.pects to .submit the res.ults to the _\mer- 
ican Pharmaceutical_\ssodation in the fall 
of 1
 79. It remains to be 8ceu "hether the 
A5sociation will then prescnt the work of 
its expert-committee to the Xational Con- 
\"ention, supposed to meet in 1880; .md 
\\ hether the latter will acct'pt this gmtuitou
offer: or else"whether the ..lmerican Phar- 
maceuticõ.ll _\5:3ociation, cncouraged by the 
\lld nlIue of tbe work, and by the 
sentiments of its members and the profes- 
sion at large, will choo
e independently to 
publi5h its Pharmacopceia. D., such action 
it would realize a desideratum which Dr. 
Squibb vainly aimed to accomplish, amI 
"ould relieve the profe

ion the old 
X ational Con\ ention for revi
ion of the 
Pharm,\copæia, anù this itself from any 
fmother labors, by presenting in time a new 
and adequate stand.lfll whkh by its in- 
trinsic merit:3 might at once command the 
appronll and acceptance of the profe



capsules, at yarying intervals. In the same Florida lizard'ó.-During a sojourn in 
hospital three cases of chronic rheumati:5m ',aldo, Florida, Yr. Henry Gillman has 
were treatcd with salicylic acid without any studi
d the characters and habits of a great 
good results. In his private practice Dr. variety of lizards, and, in a brief commu- 
Yandell has used this drug in five pro- nication to the .Anarican, states 
nounced cases of acute rheumatism with en- some of the re
uIts of his observations. 
tire success; and in another case this d['ug, One point which he has been enabJ(d to 
combined with quinine, broke up the dis- determine is the possession by the lizard:; 
case. The authm' writes that salicyJic acid of Florida of the power of "charneleoniza- 
is best given in milk; it gives the milk a tion," or of changing color. The author 
sweeti:5h-sourbh ta
te; a little tickling and states positively that the lizards of Florida 
sense of slight constriction may be felt possess this power in a remarkable degree. 
abou' the throat, and an insignificant cough Thus, he has seen a 
ma.ll, yellon bh-bro\\ n 
i.:; not uncommon. He adds: "Salicylic acid lizard, on quitting the ground, instantly as- 
is the first and only remedy that has proved sume the dull gray-hue of a weather-beaten 
itself at all reliable in the control of acute fence-rail, along which it glided. Pa
rheumati:;m in my hands. Salicylate of under some olive-tinted foliage, it n(xt 
'soda has shown no superiority over salicylic I adopted that color, '\\ hich was succeeded 
acid." by a bright green, as the animal reached 
I and rested under the gl'a.s and le"
es of 
Xotes on Flsh-
n1tnre.-The one great like shade. The original yellowish-brown 
d ' ffi It t . th ' h t h . th t . d I color was again assumed on the lizard re- 
I cu y me WI III a c mg e s rIpe . . 
b . d . t . t II ' t turnmg to the ground. Each of these 
ass 1;" accor Illg 0 an III e Igen cor- . 
d t f v t d St th l' t changes was almost Illstantaneous, and the 
respon en 0 .I.'ores an ream, e .lac . . . 
th t t ' th " I entIre serIes could not have occupJCd much 
a spawners 0 IS speCIes are very rare v 
L' d Ab t fi . W more than one-quarter of a minute of time. 
Joun . ou our years ago, we are Ill- 
formed, a few ripe" rock-fbh "(striped bass) 
were found in the Roanoke River, North 
Carolina, and about 100,000 young fish were 
hatched from their spawn. One reason 
assigned for the diminution of this fish is 
the fact that they are marketed before they 
reach maturity. Prof. Baird favors the 
enactment of a law prohibitng the marketing 
of these fish when less than twelve inches 
long. Striped bass frequently attain a weight 
of sixty and eighty pounds; and it has been 
held that they do not spawn until they 
attain a weight of about twenty pounds. 
The same correspondent cites, as an evi- 
dence of the success of salmon-propagation, 
the recent capture of a nine.pound salmon 
in the Delaware. The fish was a California 
s3.Imon-a variety with which the Delaware, 
Potomac, Susquehanna, and other rivers, 
were supplied a few Jears ago. It is s
poseù they return in five or six years, 
though difference in the temperature of 
the "ateI', currents, and other conditions, 
may accelerate or retard the return. Over 
400,000 eggs of California salmon were 
shipped Ia::;t fan to X ew Zealand," here 
they nearly all arrived in e"\:ccllent condi- 

International Stientifie S{\rfice.-Of Prof. 
Grote's paper, mentioned in our Octoher 
number, on an International Scientific Con- 
gress, and read at the lueeting of the Ameri- 
can Association, we find a very good ah:5tract 
in the Polytechnic Review, from whkh jour- 
nal we quote the e
sential points of the 
paper. The author referred to the excel- 
lent work done by national scientific asso- 
ciations, such as the British _\ssociation and 
the American .Â
sociation, but said that 
there i
 urgent need of a stiIl broader or- 
ganization-of an international congress of 
scientific men. Foremost among the prob- 
lems which Science is EltrÏ\ iug to solve is 
that of the origin of our species. The elu- 
cidation of this question concerns the whole 
race, and no merely national organization 
sesses the means of exploring the whole 
field. Then, the yarious scientitic explora- 
tions in .Africa, Australia, and the polar 
regions, need coöperative a
5istance to 
realize the best results from the outlays, 
while the new knowledge the) bring is the 
common inheritance of all enlightened na- 
tions. Kow, where all participate all ::;hould 
contribute. Prof. Grotc's plan of an inter- 

25 0 


national scientific service contemplates the 
appointment of commissionerB by the civil 
governments of the world. The delibera- 
tions of this body " would be the wisdom of 
the age; its recommendations would be re- 
spected by the legislative powers of the 
consenting and represented nations. L nder 
its auspices aU extra-limital astronomical, 
geological, and biological expenditures would 
be fitted out, and directed to those places 
which would be most fruitful for any par- 
ticular purpose. The difference in the men- 
tal faculties between different nations would 
prevent the loss in such a body of any pos- 
sible suggestion which the human mind 
could offer." 
At the same meeting a paper was read 
by Profs. Grote and Pitt on new fossils in 
the collection of the Buffalo Society of N at- 
ural Sciences, from the water-line group. 
The free ramus of the {'helate appendage of 
Pterygotlls Cummingsi (G. and P.) was de- 
scribed by the aid of drawings. The crab- 
like animal was over five feet in length, and 
lived in the 
hallow waters of the Silurian 
!;ea where Buffalo now stands. Its remains 
were deposited in the sedimentary lime-beds 
which are now being worked for manufact- 
uring purposes. 

oecur at various localities in a storm-area. 
This fact suggests that dul'ing the progress 
of a storm there occur local causes of great 
The tables show that heavy rainfalls 
are not of long duration over extended 
areas, and the conclusion from this fact is, 
that the causes which produce rain do not 
increase in force from the rainfall, but di- 
minish and become exhausted. This re- 
suIt cannot be attributed to a want of sup- 
ply of vapor, as the inflowing winds contin- 
ually carry vapor into the storm-area; and 
this is especially true in the case of storms 
moving along- the Atlantic border. 'Vhat 
seems to be implied is, that an exhaustion 
occurs of the forces which impart that move- 
ment to the air requisite to precipitation. 
The centre of great rain-areas occurs 
along the Atlantic border four times more 
frequently than inland, nor is this general 
fact changed in the region of the Great 
Lakes. Y cry extensive rainfalls are most 
frequent in autumn and winter, and occur 
most frequently in mornings and afternoons, 
and are least frequent during evenings, the 
difference in this respect being \ery marked. 
It is observed, too, that the" heaviest rain- 
falls are seldom accompanied by very high 
winds. " 
Prof. Loomb on Rain _ Areas. _ The " There seems," 
ays Prof. Loomis, "no 
American Jow.nal of Science for July con- room to d.oubt th
t areas of low barometer 
tains the seventh paper of a series by Prof. occur durmg perIOds of twenty-four hours 
Loomis, in which he investigates the phe- I with little. or no rain, and tr
vel nearly 
nomena of storms their oriO'in develo p - eastward wIth an average yeloCIty of about 
, 0 , t t"1 h " F 1 . f: . 
ment and movements. It was shown in a wen y lil es an our. rom t lIS act It 
 paper that the form of 
 rain-area, is concluded .that rainfall is not essential 
that is, of a storm moving over the country, to t
e formatlOn 
reas of low baro
is usually elliptical: this elongated form is and .IS not the prmc
pal cause ?f theIr 
more obvious in storms which move along matIon nor of. theIr progressive '
the coast than in those which move farther The barometer IS frequently low rlurmg the 
inland. The area of low barometer in a hazy weather of October, when the Indian 
storm is not at the centre of greatest rainfall. su
mer prevails, a period usually of little 
Sometimes the rain eentre is northward, or ram fall. 
southward, or eastward, or westward, of the 
area of low barometer. Korth of latitude 
36 0 the distance of the area of greatest 
rainfall from the centre of low pressure is 
in a majo1'Íty of cases less than 250 miles, 
but in some instances three times that dis- 
tance, the average being 300 miles. 'Vhen 
extensive rainfalls occur there is a marked 
tendency to the formation of several cen- 
tres of precipitation, and heavy rains may 

Taste-Perrel)tious.-.An interesting in- 
quiry has been made by Yintschgau and 
Röingschmied to determine bow much time 
is requisite to perceive different taste-sen- 
sations. We ha\e already, in X o. 39 of 
the ]úOXTHLY, giyen the results obtained 
by the
e investigators in thei l' earlier re- 
searches; but since then they studied 
the subject more thoroughly, attacking 


more complex problems, as will be seen 
from the following account of their labors, 
which we take from the En!Jlisl
In these experiments by pressure of a brush 
saturated with a cOIlc{'ntrated solution of 
a savory substance on the tongue, an elec- 
tl'ic circuit was closed, which was only 
opened by the person when he made a sig- 
nal on first perceiving the taste. The time 
during which the current flowed was marked 
by a rotating cylinder, and represented the 
" reaction-time)) of a given taste. First, 
tbe "reaction-time" of four different sub- 
stances was ascertained. This experiment 
was then so modified that not merely the An rnd
rgronnd Pneumatie (')otl-Rt"g- 
sensation of taste had to be answered to, nJator.-The inhabitants of modern cities 
but the tongue of the person was touched who are accustomed to receive their sup- 
now with water, now with a savory solution, ply of water and illuminating f!as through 
without his knowing beforehand which was pipes laid under the streets, and who are 
to be applied; he had to decide which had prepared to welcome the introduction of 
touched his tongue, and gave the signal a system of steam _ heating on a large 
only wh
n it wag t
le savory matter. In a scale, will next "get the time of day" 
final serIes of experIments there were always I from underground pipes. A plan of reg- 
two savor
 substances used: when the. per- ulating clocks by means of compres
SOIl perceIved the one, he gave the sIgnal I air has been devised by an Austrian en. 
with one hand; when he perceived the gineel' named 
Iayrhofer. Its principle 
other, with the other hand. Here the per- will be understood from the following de- 
son had not only to perceive the sensation, scription, which we take from the Boston 
Lut to distinguish the one t
ste fro
 the Journal of Cltcmist1'Y: In the first place, 
other, and then to make the right chOIce of tubes are laid to convey compressed air from 
the hand to give the signal. The results a central station, in wbich is the "master- 
are stated in the table below, where the clol'k." .A simple contrivance, connected 
first vertical series gives the names of the with the tubes and the clock, lets off a puff 
savory substances; the second, the time in of air every minute or half-minute, and the 
seconds between the application of the sub. fingers of all the clocks ill the sY:5tem are in 
stance and giving of the signal; the third, that manner pushed forward with unerring 
the reaction-time when the savory 
ubstance accuracy, in accordance with the time im1i- 
was applied interchangeably with water, and cated by the standard timepieces in the 
must be distillguh;hed from this; the fourth, obsen"atory, so that exact uniformity can 
fifth, sixth, ani) seventh, tÞe reaction-time in be maintained without difficulty in the time 
comparison with common salt, acid, sugar, shown on any number of dials. The weather 
and quinine, re
p('ctively: has no effect on the air, so far as the work- 
s' ) COMPARISON WITII jng of the pneumatic clocks is concerned, 
Qensa I I I and, be it hot or be it cold, the little vaIn"' 
;" .:::.
 Wat". Sa"" Add" SogB. Qwnin. lets off its puff of air, and the clocks go 
C'omm'n accurately, in defiance of atlUospherical in. 
salt...\O.1:ífl..;O.276G ......IO.333SI0.337R0.4
O-l- flucnces. A small yearly charg(' is made 
Af'id.... O.lftjlìO.331fiO)n-t9 ...... O.4-0F;1I0.4n
Su!!ar... 1 0 . t6:
!1 ().:
-..,-tO O)
73 ...... 0.422! for the clocl\:s, and there is no furtber ex- 
Quinine. 0.2HI60.4129 0.43SR 0.5005 0.4210 ...... I b 
pense or trouhle. The system las cen in 
operation in Vienna for nearly four month
and has worked without a solitary hitch, fIoO 
that the people are b('ginnin
 to realize the 
idea that time can be" laid on J) in their 
hou:5es as readilJ as cithel' water or gas. 

" If we take as a basis," say the authors, 
"the reaction-times when the tongue wag 
touched with a savory substance alonc, and 
compare therewith the reaction-times which 
T';cre ohtainrd in the experiments whcther 

25 1 

with water, or with anotlJCr savory sub- 
stance, we find that the folIo" illg law gen- 
erally holds: If we experiment with dislillcd 
water and a savory substance, or inter- 
changeably with two savory substances on 
the tongue-tip, then the time of r('co
of the one (in experiments with water), or 
of the two (in expel'iments with savory sub- 
stances), is longer, the longer the reaction- 
time of one of tl1e savory substance:; on sim- 
ple application." The converse of this law, 
however (which is only in general valid), 
does not hold good. 

25 2 


Loral Temperatnr('
 of tIle Blood.- 
From researches made by Claude Bernard, 
it appears that while the temperature of 
the l>lood in the aorta and its more impor- 
tant branches is uniform, that of the venous 
blood varies considerably in different re- 
gions of the inferior vena cava and its prin- 
cipal triLutaries. At the junction of the ex- 
tremities and the neck with the trunk of 
the bod y, the venous blood is colder than 
that in the great arteries; in the right heart 
it is considerably hotter. If we determine 
its temperature at successive points in the 
inferior ca,-a, we find that at the junction 
of the iliac veins this is lower than the ar- 
terial temperature: on a level with the en- 
trance of the renal yeins, the two are about 
equal; on a level with the hepatic veins, 
the temperature of the venous exceeds that 
of the arterial blood by nine-tenths of a 
degree. It retains this superiority even 
after it has become mixed in the right heart 
with the coMer blood returned through the 
superior cava. Accordingly, though the 
venous blood of the peripheral parts is 
colder than in the arteries, it acquires suffi- 
cient beat during its passage through the 
abdominal cavity, not merely to equalize 
the difference, but actually to give it a per- 
manent advantage. This is so, not because 
the viscera are the source of animal heat, 
but simply because they are by their situ- 
ation protected from the effects of radiation 
and evaporation. Heat is generated in all 
the tissues, muscles, ner\"es, nerve-centres, 
lands. The rise of temperature, which 
may always be detected in a muscle when 
thrown into a state of contraction, is in- 
variably preceded by a slight depression; 
and precisely the same phenomenon is ex- 
hibited by a gland when its secretory nerve 
is stimulated. 

with a layer of aluminium, which takes a 
good polh;h. The double chloride of mag- 
nesium and ammonium in an aqueous solu- 
tion is readily decomposed by the battefY, 
gi\"ing in a few minutes strongly-adherent 
and homogeneous deposits of magnesium 
on a sheet of copper. It polishes readily. 
The battery must be powerful. Cadmium is 
best deposited from the bromide to which 
a little Bulphuric acid has been added; it 
is then very coherent and very white, and 
takes a fine polish. The sulphate, if acid- 
ulated, also gives an immediate depos:t of 
metallic cadmium, very adhesive and capa- 
ble of a good 'polish. Bismuth is deposited 
from a solution of the double chloride of 
bismuth aud ammonium on copper or brass 
by the current from a Bunsen element; it 
is very adhesive, and might be used in dec- 
orating works of art. Antimony can be 
deposited from a solution of the double 
chloride of antimony and ammonium at 
common temperatures. Deposits of palla- 
dium are obtained" ith ease by means of 
the douhle chloride of palladium anù am- 
monium, either with or without the battery. 
The solution must be perfectly neutral. 

Sew JIetbod of Artifidal Respiratio:r.- 
Dr. Benjamin Howard, late of the Long I
and )Iedical College, recently gave at King's 
College Hospital, London, a demonstration 
of his" direct method" of producing arti- 
ficial respiration. For the purpose of mak- 
ing his description of the method perfectly 
plain, Dr. Howard had a man to act the part. 
of a person rescued from the "Water, and 
apparently dead from drowning. The first 
thing done was to rip away the wet clothing 
to the waist, making of it a large, firm bol- 
ster. "Quickly turning -the face down- 
ward," said he, as he procepded to explain 
the process, " the bolster beneath the epi- 
EIedro-Plating. - We take from Yan gastrium, making that the highest point, 
Xostrand's Engineering .11Ia[/azine the fol- the mouth the lowest; placing both hands 
lowing statement of the results obtained by on his back immediately above tbe bolster, 
Bertrand in experiments in electro-plating my whole weight is thrown forcibly forward, 
with aluminium, magnesium, cadmium, bis- compressing the stomach and lower part of 
mutþ, antimony, and palladium. Alumin- the chest between my hands and the bolster 
ium was deposited on decomposing, with a for a few seconds, two or three times, with 
strong battery a solution of the double very ::;hort intervah:." Thus the lungs are 
chloride of aluminium and ammonium; a rclieyed of water and the stomach en.ptied. 
plate of copper forming the negath e pole Then" quickly turn the patient on his back, 
'f'ìhittns gradually, and becomes coyercd , the bolster again maldng the epigastrium 



and anterior margins of the costal cartilages spaces from the knuckles to the first joint 
the highest point of the body, the shoul- of the finger are united by a membrane, 
del's and occiput barely resting on the and become practically a continuation of 
ground. Seize the patient's wrists, and, the palm. The gorilla, too, uses its hand 
having secured the utmost possible exten- much morc as a foot than as a hand. "The 
!::lion of them behind his bead, hold them fast thumb of the foot," be adds, "has great 
to the ground with your left band. "'lth a powers of prehension; indeed, it may be 
dry pocket-handkerchief between the right said that the thumb proper is carried on t11e 
thumb and forefinger withdl'aW the tongue, foot. The gorilla has no calf to the le::r, 
holding it at the extreme right corner of the and no biceps in the forearm: he cannot 
mouth. If a boy be at hand, both wrists stand upright without supporting himself by 
and tongue may be confided to his care. means of some object. The back of the 
In this position two-thirds of the entrance goriJ1a is almost square, something after the 
to the mouth is free and the tongue is im- form of the fill! saùdle useù in equestrian 
movably fixed forward; the epiglottis is pre- feats in circuses. The cause of this is, that 
eluded from pressure and partial closure; the ribs come close down on the top of the 
the he'td is dependent; the free margins of hip-bone." So far as Mr. Buckland has 
the costal cartilages are prominent, and been able to learn, the gorilla does not use 
there is a high degree of fixed thoracic ex- a stick for the purpose of striking, neither 
pansioll. The epigastrium being highest, does he ever stril\:e witI) his hands. Two 
the movements of the diaphragm are not chiklren, a boy and a girJ, were permitted 
embarrassed by the abdominal viscera. to play with Pongo, and as Mr. Buckland 
"To produce respiration, you kneel looked on he "could not help seeing what 
astride the patient's hips, rest the ball of a vast line the Creator had drawn between 
each thumb on the corresponding costoxy- them." Our author concludes by saying that 
phoid 1igaments, the fingers falling into the Pongo's structure and manners confirm tbe 
lower intercostal spaces; now, resting your idea that Darwin is wrong, and that human 
elbows against your sides, and using your beings are not monkeys. This doctdne of 
knees as a pivot, throw the whole weight of I the identity of man and monkey gives Mr. 
your body slowly and steadily forward until Buckland a great deal of trouble, and from 
Jour mouth nearly touches that of the pa- the vehemence with which he combats it 
tient, and while you slowly count three; l one i:; led to suppose that it must be pre va- 
then suddenly spring back to your first po- lent in England. It, is a little strange, how- 
sition on your kne
s, remain there while you ) ever, that the adepts of this vile heresy 
Inight slowly 
ount two; t
en repe
t, and I have contrived to ma
k their 
eachings, f?r 
so on about eIght or ten tunes a mmute." we bave not seen thIS doctrme upheld 1Il 
The acting patient at the very first steps of I any of the publications of the day. 
the process gasped involuntarily, and as it Buckland asks: "'Yhy not rest satisfied 
was continued he came more and more un- with the origin of our race thus revealed to 
del' the control of the operator. After the us by the great Creator himsdf?-' So God 
operation had ceased, t1lCre were visible created man in his own il11a
e, and in the 

ive waves of involuntary respiration image of God created he him; male and 
which the" patient" could not control. female created be them.' " 

Frank ßurkland on tbe ßnlin Corilla.- 
"Mr. Frank Buckland bas made a visit to 
"Pongo," the young gorilla at t.he 'Yest- 
miuster Aquarium, and observed with much 
pleasure the many great differences between 
monkey and man. First he notes the hands 
of the 
orilla.: the thumb, he observes, is 
exceedingly short, and "cannot be m
with anything ìike the facility as in tbe hu- 
man subject." Then, in the gori11a, the 

Topographiral SurfeYs and lIea1tII.- 

h. James T. Gardner deli,"cred, at the Bos- 
ton meeting of the Public Health .\.ssocia- 
tion, an add I'ess on the" Relation between 
Topographical 8urve
's and the Study of 
Public Hcalth," which abounds in suggc
tions of the highest practical importance. 
As an illustration of the author's mode of 
 his argum('nt
, w(' may take his 
remarks on "natural drainage." "This," \\"0 



are informed, "rcsults from combined ac- I 
tion of configuration, character of soil, con- 
stitution of underlying rock, and the form 
of its surface. These four clemcnts regu- 
late natural drainage. Each must present 
favorable conditions, or deadly waters will 
accumulate on the surface or in hidden 
strata. No plan of w-tific'ial dl'ainfl[Je can 
be completely successful unless based on a 
thorough comprehension of the natu'l"al drain- 
a.qe system of the area undeï- treatment. The 
region above the Palisades on the Hudson 
furnishes excellent illustration of these 
statements. The plateau fronts the river 
eastward with a bluff 300 feet high, and 
westward slopes gently to the Hackensack 
Yalley. . . . All topographical conditions of 
unusual health seem here present, and Jet 
malarial diseases abound. The reason of 
this will probably be found in the configu- 
ration of the rock. The dense basalt under- 
lying the thin soil absorbs almost no water. 
Its surface, originally nearly level, was worn 
by glacial action into low, swelling ridges 
and shallow rock-basins, many of which, 
having no outlet, hold stagnant water as 
great saucers would. If the rock were 
either fissured or porous the height of the 
plateau would insure perfcct under-drain- 
age. " 
""lth the Palisades plateau the author 
I10W contrasts the Helderberg plateau, also 
ated near the Hudson River. Here," an 
escarpment 1,000 feet high bounds, on the 
eastern side, the table-land, composed of hor- 
izontal limestone resting on shales. From 
the more level parts water does not pass off 
by surface-streams. Low undulations di- 
vide these areas into many separate basins, 
cach draining toward its own centrc, where 
a funnel-shaped opening in the limestone 
rcceives the disappearing flow, whose future 
course is subterranean. These basins are 
from a few acres to 300 or 400 in extent. 
\Vhen one covers about five square miles a . 
pond is formed at the point of central drain- 
age, finding outlet through fissures of the 
limestone below. The plateau's elev
insures that these waters sink at once many 
hundred feet, or escape in springs along the 
cliff:::;." Mr. Gardner then proceeds to show 
how-as at Sandusli:y, Ohio-this same Hel- 
 limestone may, unde1' different to- 
pog1'aplâcal conditions, become one of the 
most powerful producers of disease. 

A Formidable Ararlmidall.-Dr. B. F. 
Pope, U. S. A., contributes to 
F'orest and 
Stream some valuable "K otes on the N atu- 
ral History of Southwestern Texas," from 
which we take the following account of the 
" vinagrone " (big vine[Jar, so called on ac- 
count of the pungent secretion it ejects), an 
arachnidan found in the vicinity of Fort 
Stockton. In general appearance it resem- 
bles a large scorpion, though belonging to 
a different family. From the head to the 
commencement of the tail the adult vina- 
grone is full two inches long; in breadtl\ it 
measures about three-quarters of an inch. 
The thorax and bead are amalgamated, 
while the thorax and abdomen are separated 
by flexible tissue. Thc legs are six in num- 
ber, all attached to the thorax. The trunk 
and head are protected by a single dorsal 
plate; the abdomen has sixteen distinct 
dorsal and ventral laminæ, which overlap; 
they would form continuous rings, were it 
not that they are curiously separated later- 
ally by elastic tissue. This division of the 
abdominal rings affords considerable flexi- 
bility, and gives the insect the appearance 
of bearing about him an old-fashioned bel- 
lows. From the terminal, dorsal, and ven- 
tral plates is given off a series of rings, 
which, after the third one, are fused into a 
stiff spike or tail, that is usually three-fifths 
of the length of the entire bod}', and cov- 
ered with short bristles like the legs. This 
is not a sting, nor does it seem to be the 
duct through which the secretion is ejected. 
It appears to be used principally as a pos- 
terior feeler, and sometimes as an aid to 
From the head are given off two power- 
ful brachials, each having four articulations. 
They resemble the arms of a scorpion, and 
terminate in sharply-curved pincers. The 
threateninf!' manner in which they are openpd 
and stretched out, when the insect is enraged 
or is seeking for its prey, almost makes one 
shudder. But the brachia are not its only 
means of offense. Beneath the frontal plate . 
are two long, incurvated fangs. Connected 
with these are two sacs, that, by pressure, ex- 
ude drops of greenish liquid over the fangs, 
and in them undoubtedly resides the true 
venom of the insect. 
Of the bite of this animal the author 
writes: "We have no good proof that the 
bite of the vinagrone would be fatal to man, 


except perhaps as it might be !:1upplemented 
by tbe shock of an exces::;ive terror; but 
that it would be dangerous I think highly 
probaLle. As an experiment, I confined 
two of them in a small box with a large 
bat. The next morning the bat was dead, 
having been killed by them during the night, 
when it i::; supposed to be most agile and 
wary. I placed another unsavory specimen 
in a large bottle, in company with a large 
wasp and a tarantula. The vinagrone killed 
and devoured them both in short order." 
In a later number of the same journal 
Dr. H. C. Yarrow writes that the vinagrone 
is quite well known to entomologists under 
the name of Tlwlyplwnu8 giganteus, and 
that it is common in New:Mexico and Ari- 

The Srandal of the Seal-}jshery.-Unle
the governments of the countries which 
send out ships to the seal-fishery grounds 
speedily put some restrictions on the meth- 
od now pursued, there will before long 
be no seals. In 1868 Dr. Robert Brown 
expressed his belief that, "supposing the 
sealing prosecuted with the same vigor as 
at present, before thirty years shall have 
passed away the seal-fishery, as a source of 
commerical revenue, will have come to a 
close.') The Greenland seal-fishery is al- 
ready U practically used up)) and the sealers 
are now turning their attention to the coast 
of Newfoundland. A writer in Nafure cites 
the London Daily jI,
elL'8, to show what 
slaughter is made of the X ewfoundland 
seals, anel we learn that in one season four 
vessels secured 89,000 scals. To this add 
a like number of young ones left to die of 
starvation, and twenty per cent. as many 
mortally wounded and lost, and the ag- 
gregate amounts to over 200,000 seals 1 The 
writer in J.Yaflll'e suggests this subject of 
the destruction of the seal as a fitting one 
to occupy tllC minds of the advocates of 
the anti-,'ivisl'ction laws, and the Society 
for the Prcvention of Cruelty to Animals. 

Thp Bnndln
-Ston('s of St. Lawrenee 
fonnty, l\'pw York.-From a statement by 
Mr. D. Minthorn, puhlished in the Enginccr- 
in,q and ..JfiniJ1[1 J01l1'nrrl, it appears that in 
the northern portion of tbe State of K f'W 
York may be found in abundance all the 
choicest varieties of marbles, granites, and 


other buildillg-stone
. llc:-iùes the com- 
mon gray gneiss, he enumerates among the 
building-stones of St. Lawrence County 
several varieties, Euch as syenitic granite, 
many New England granites, a deep-grc('n 
granite " mottled like the pedestals of 
Cheops." Then there are yariou5 pink, 
green, and dark-red porphyritic granite
and finally there are large masses of ycry 
compact gray and green granite, studùeù 
with garnets about half an inch apart. The 
varieties of marblcs are very numerous, 
ranging from white limestone and dolomite 
and statuary marble to straw-colored, blue, 
dmb, brown, blacli:, yellow, and red yari- 
egated marbles; verd-antique also is rep- 
resented; indeed, Yr. 
1inthorn is prepared 
to match any of the antique marbles" ith 
the products of the St. Lawrence County 
quarries. Adjoining the statuary-marblc 
quarry is a deposit consisting partly of pa- 
godite or Chinese figure-stone, and possess- 
ing sufficient hardness to take a polish, 
while at the same time it does not .\ chip 
out" when chiseled in sharp lines. 


"TE have receiveù from Conrad 
& 80ns, of Philadelphia, a correction of the 
statement made by Mr. S. A usten Pierce, 
in our October number, that Jonas Cbiclwr- 
ing in lti37 "conceived the bold idl'a of 
constructing a [pianoforte] frame entirely 
of iron." The :Messrs. )leyer now cite the 
official\! report" of the jury of the Franklin 
Institute Exhibition of 1833, which nwntions 
"an iron-framed square piano" exhibited 
by Conraù :Meyer. Other testimony to the 
same effect is quoted Ly thc :Messrs. 
who appear to make out a clear case of 
priority of invention. Having admitted 
correction, we can afford no more spa
e 111 
the columns of the MO:XTIIL y for the plano- 
frame controversy. 
'YE haye received from Mr. E. Rerliner, 
'Yashington a circular, "ith drawings, gÏ\'- 
inO' an aeco'unt of certain of the author':5 
coveries and inventions in cleetricit
These are a contact t('lcphone, an cledl'i
spark telephonc, anù a method of tclephol11c 
AT Xcw Cnmberlanrl, ""est Yirginia, a 
fountain of natural gas i
 utili7cd for l11alll
facturing fire-brick. Thi
, Fa
-s thc. .Amc1"1- 
can l1Iam
f(7dllN'1", is the first fire-lm.l'k ever 
burned without wood or coal. FlftJ-five 
thousand bricks are made daily in nine 

25 6 


kilns. The gas furthermore supplies fuel 
for three engincs, ten furnaces ill the dry- 
ing-house, antI 8e\"eral dwelling:::;-the latter 
obtaining in thi::; way both light and hcat. 
There remains withal a large surplus of 
gas, which is unused, except from the top 
of an e::5cape-pipe, for illuminating the coun- 
try around. 
THE ....Yatiot" is authority for the state- 
ment that the office of Director of the In- 
ternational Bure
u of \Veights and Measures 
in Paris has been otfel'eù to Prof. J. E. Hil- 
gard, of the Dlliteù 
tates Coast SUlTey. 
DIED, at Bonn, on September 13th, at the 
age of eighty-nine years, Jakob Nöggerath, 
for about fifty :rears Profe::!::5or of DIinemlo- 
gy in thp univer
ity of that town. The de- 
ceased wa::. a mO::5t a:::;siùuous student of 
mineral06Y and geology, and his contribu- 
tions to scientific literature were very vo- 
MR. HENRY NEWTON, geol Jgist, attached 
to Jenney'::; Black Hills Exploring Expedi- 
tion, died at Deadwood City, August ;Sth, at 
the earlv ag:e of thirty-two year5. )II'. X ew- 
ton was. a graduate of the èolumbia College 
School of JIines; later, ...\.ssistant Professor 
of Geology in the same institution; then he 
joined the Ohio Survey under Prof. N ew- 
berry; finally, two years ago, he became 
olo,:!;i:::;t of Prof. Jenney's Expedition to 
the Black Hill:;. 

IR. R. A. PROCTOR, in excusing himself 
for not aU6wering all the letters of inquiry 
he receives, gives the following account 
of his multifarious occupation:::;: Seeing 
through the press three uew works and four 
new editions, preparing two pamphlets, writ- 
ing one translation of an 800-page book, 
and pæparing four new workR; writing ar- 
ticles for English and AlUm'ican magazines; occilsional1y; business correspond- . 
ence with ten publishers; personal con- 
cerns; original research. 
AT a meeting of the Paris Academy of 
Sciences, a note by L. Lalim3,n was read, in 
which the author stated that he had dis- 
covereù an in
ect which preys on the Phyl- 
loxera. This insect, or rather its larva- 
I. L
lliman ]lad not seen the pm'feet 
insect-:.levom's phylloxeras with great a\-id- 
ity, and the author saw as many as ninety- 
five di
 in the space of ten min- 
utes. The larva was found in the interstices 
of the leaf-gal1
, anù 
ometimes in the sub- 
st,lnce of the galls. M. Laliman thinks he 
has seen the e;:!g of this insect; it occurs 
on the un{lerside of the leaf; but he has 
not seen it hatched. A member of the 
r. ß'llbiani, remarked that the 
fact observed by Laliman is not altogether 
new. The larva. seen by him belongs to 
the gen\l
, or to some allied &enns. 
The larvæ of ðyrplws all pre)T on Apllldes. 

\x expedition, with aims similar to tbo
of the "\Y oodruff Expedition," will I:'ail 
from IIavre, France, on the 13th of June, 
1878. Thi::5 expedition will be ab
cnt frollJ 
ce for cleven months. Of this time it 
is }Jroposed to spend about six months alllI 
a half in excursions inland in America, 
North aud South, the Pacific Archipelagos, 
Australia, Japan, China, llritbh India etc. 
The cost of passage is 17,000 franc

IR.. RICHÅRD S. FLOYD, one of the tru
tees of the" Lick Trust," on his return to 
California, after an extended tour of foreign 
travel, during which he collected all .tLe 
information he could \, ith regard tu tl.c 
construction of great telescopes, expre
his belief that the best tf.lcscope for the 
Lick Observatory would be a refractor of 
the largest size. The cost of a suitable in- 
strument, with object-glass of forty inche
I would not, 11e thinks, exceed 
I But, in addition to the great refractor, Mr. 
I Floyd would have in the obsenatory a re- 
flector about four feet ill diameter, with 
I both sih-ercd g]a8s and speculum-metal mir- 
I 1'01'8. This would cost about $20,000. 
A SERVICE of plate was recently pre- 
sented in London to Señor :Manuel Gart'ia 
" in recognition of the great services he } :JS 
rendered alike to science and humanity hy 
I his important discovery of the laryngo- 
scope. " 
ADYICES from Australia announce the 
total and suùden disappearance of a group 
I of guano-islands-the Barker Islands-situ- 
I ate ill latitude 14 0 south, and longitude 125 0 
I east, just úff the northwest coa::;t of Austra- 
lia. In April last Mr, Fi8her, a capitali:-t of 
Ta:,rnania, who had obtained from the gov- 
ernment the rip:ht of worldng the guano-dl- 
posits, visited their site with three steam- 
ship::;, but found there only a "waste of 
waters," and had to return empty. The Bar- 
ker Islands are not mentioned in the ., Im- 
perial Gazetteer," nor arc they indicated in 
the atlases. 
THERE was exported from China to 
Europe, in tbe )'ear 1875, the enormo
amount of about sixty tons of human hall'. 
This hair is ostensibly the proùúct of the 
sweeping of barber-shops, but there is little 
doubt that much of it repre::::ents " pig-tails" 
feloniously snipped from their wearers' 
THE addition of cheese to the arm). and 
nayy ration, in part substitution for salt 
meat is adyocated by a writer in the Poly- 
tccltnic Ra'iew. The sup:gestion is a good 
one, the advantages of cheese being .
fold: it is wllOlesome, highly nutritIOUf', 
aid:::; digestion, needs no cooking, and is 
easily handled and transported. 

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JANUARY, 1878. 




45. THE" engines of 
Hero and Branca were, 
it \vill be remem hered, 
non-condensing; but th(\ 
first pIau of a non-con- 
densing cngine that 
could have heen Innde of any really practical use i
 gi,'en in the 
"TlLeatl"Uïn ,JIacldnarll1n," of J
enpold, pnbli
h('d in 1720. IIis sketch 
is copied in Fig. 23. It is stated by LcupolLl that this plan ,vas sug- 
1 An abstract of "A History of the G..owtb of the Steam-Engine," to be published 
by D. Appleton & Co. 
VOL. XII.-17 






gested by Papin. It consists of two single-acting cylinders, r s, receiv- 
ing steam alternately from the same steam-pipe through a " four-way- 
cock," and exhausting into the atmos- 
phere. \Ve find no evidence that tljis 
engine ,vas ever built. 
\Vben, during the last century, 
the steam-engine had so far been 
perfected that the possibility of its 
application to other purposes than 
the elevation of ,vater had becorne 
generally recognized, the problenl tOf 
its adaptation to the propulsion of 
carriages was attacked by many en- 
gineers and inventors. 
As early as 1759, Dr. Robison, 
who was at the time a graduate of the 
University of Glasgo,v, and an ap- 
plicant for an assistant professorship 
there, and who had 111acle the ac- 
quaintance of the i))strument-nlaker, 
J ames 'Vatt, when visiting the ,vork- 
shop, called the attention of the 
latter, ,vho 'was probably then more 
ignorant of the principles of the steam-engine than was the young 
student, to the possibility of constructing a carriage to }}e driven 
by a steam-engine, thus, perhaps, setting in operation that train 
of thoughtful experiment ,vhich finally earned for \Vatt his splendid 
46. \Vatt, at a very early period, proposed to appl y llÏs engine to 
locomotion, and contemplated using either a non-condensing engine, 
or an air-surface condenser. He actually included tIle locomotive-en- 
gine in his patent of 1784, and his assistant, J\Iurdoch, in the same 
year, made a working-model locomotive 
,vhich was capable of running at a rapid 
This model, now deposited in the 
Patent J\Iuseum, at South I\::ensington, 
London, had a flue-boiler, and 3, "gras
hopper" engine. Its steam-cylinder 
,vas three-quarters of an inch in diam- 
eter, and had t,vo inches stroke of pis- 
ton (Fig. 24). The driving-wheels were 
nine and a half inches in dianleter. It 
is reported to }la,ye run six to eight miles 
an hour, its little driving-,vheeh
 making from two hundred to t,vo 
hundred and seventy-five revolutions per minute. 

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FIG. 24.-:I\lURDOCH'S MODEL, 1784. 


47. In 1765 that singular genius, Dr. Erasmus Darwin, whose 
celebrity was acquired by speculations in poetry aud philosophy as 
,vell as in medicine, urged l\Iatthe'\v BouJton (subsequently 'Vatt's 
partner, and just then corre
ponding \vitb our o,vn Franklin in relation 
to the use of steanl-powei)'; tà -co"n
truct a steam-carriage, or "fiery 
chariot," as he poctical1y styled 'it, and of which he sketched a set of 
A young man, named Edgeworth, became interested in the scheme, 
and in ] 768 published a paper which had secured for him a gold 
Jnedal fronl the Society of Arts. In this paper he proposed railroads 
on which the carriages were to be drawn by horses, or by ropes frorn 
stea'tn-winding engines. 

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48. These ,vere merely promising schemes, however. The first 
actual experiment was made, as is supposed, by a French army officer, 
Nicolas Joseph Cugnot, who in 1769 built a steatn-carriage (Fig. 25), 
which ,vas set at ,vork in presence of the Ji--'rench 
linister of vVar, 
the' Duke de Choiseul. The funds required by him were furnished Ly 
the COlnte de Saxe. Encouraged by the partial success of the first 
10c01notiye, Cugnot, in 1770, constructed a 
second which is still preserved in the Con- 
servatoire des Arts et l1Iétiers, Paris. This 
more powerful carriage (Fig. 25) was fitted 
with two non-condensing single-acting cylin- 
ders, thirteen inches in diameter. Although 
the experiment seems to have been successful, 
there appears to have been nothing ITIOre done 
with it. 
An American of considerable òistinction, 
Nathan l{ead,patented a steam-carriage, 17nO, 1 
of the form seen in Fier. 26 which is C'o p ied 

froln his patent. The cylinders F F lie A 
under the bod y of the carriaere. the P istons 

E .If'Y drive racks B G, which turn the wheels 
.L1 Ie. The steering-wheel I nloves the large wheels A It, \vlJich .lat- 
1 "Nathan Read and his Steam-Engine." New York: Hurd & Houghton, 1870. 




FIG. 26.-READ'S 
CARRIAGE, 1790. 


ter, turning, carries the engines about with it. It is an ingenious and 
c nrious device. 
49. ,. To Oliver Evans," says Dr. Ernest Alban/ the learned Ger- 
man engineer, "was it reserved to sho.w the true value of a long-known 
I)rincip1e, and to establish thereon a new and more simple method of 
applying the power of steam-a method tbat ,viH remain an eternal 
n1eInorial to its introducers." Dr. Alban here refers to thf\ earliest 
successful introduction of the non-condensing high-pressure steam- 
Oliver Evans, one of the most ingenious mechanics that America 
has ever produced, was born at Newport, Delaware, in 1755 or 1456, 
the son of people in yery humble circumstance
lIe ,vas, in his youth, apprenticed to a wbcehvright, and soon 
exhibited great mechanical talent and a strong desire to acquire 
IIis attention "
as at an early period drawn to this })ossiblc appli- 
cation of the power of steam to useful}HlrpOSes by a boyish })rank. 
Placing a small quantity of "'ateI' in a gun-barrel, and ramn1Íng down 
a tight wad, he put the barrel in the fire of a blacksmith's forge. 
The loud report ,vhich accompanied tIle expulsion of the wad 'was an 
evidence to young Evans of the great, and, as l)c bupposed, previously 
undiscovered power of steam. 
Subsequently, meeting ,vith a description of a K e,ycomen elJgine, 
he at once noticed that the elastic force of confined steam was not 
there utilized. 


E. 1800. 

fIe then designed the non-condensing engine, in which the })ower 
.was derived exclusively fron1 the tension of high-pressure steam, and 
proposed its application to the propulsion of carriages. 
50. About the year 1780 Evans joined his brothers, who ".ere 
millers by occupation, and at once enlployed his inventi\"e talent in 
1 "The High-Pressure Engine investigated," Dr. Ernest Alban, Loudon, 1847. 


improving the details of nÜll-,vork, and ,vith such success as to 
reduce the cost of attenùance one-half, and abo to increase the fine- 
ness of the flour made. 
In 1785 he applied for, but was refused, a patent for a steaul- 
In 1800 or 1801, Evans, after consulting ,vith Prof. Robert Patter- 
son, of the University of Pennsylvania, and getting his approval 
of the plans, cOInnlencect the construction of a steam-carriage, to be 
driven by a non-condensing engine. 
He soon concluded, however, that it would be a better scheme, 
pecuniarily, to adapt 11Îs engine, ,vhich ,vas novel in form and of 
small first cost, to driving n1Ïlls; and he accordingly changed his 
plans, and built an engine of six inches diameter of cylinder and 
eighteen inches .stroke of piston, which he applied with perfect bUC- 
cess to driviug a plaster mill. 
51. This engine (Fig. 
7), ,vhich he called the" Columbian engine," 
,vaR of a peculiar form. 
The beam is supported at one end by a rocking column; at the 
other it is attached directly to the piston-rod, while the crank lies 
heneath the beam, the connecting-rod being attached to the latter at 
about the nliddle point. 
The head of the piston-rod is compelled to rise and fall in a ver- 
tical line by the" Evans parallelogram," a kind of parallel motioll 
very similar to one of those designed by 'Vatt. 
52. Subsequently, Evans continued to extend the application of 
his engine and to perfe
t its details, and, others following in his track, 
the non-condensing engine is to-day fulfilling the predictions 'which 
he lnade seventy years ago, \vhen he said: 

"I have no doubt that my engine will propel boats against the currents of 
the )Iissis
ippi, and wagons on turnpike-roads, with great profit. . . . 
"The time wiU come when people will travel in stages moved by stèam- 
engines, fronl one city to another, almost as fast as l>irds can fly:-fiftel'n or 
twenty miles an hour. A carriage will start from Washington in the morning, 
the passengers will breakfast at Baltimore, dine at Philadelphia, and sup at 
Xcw York the same day. . . . 
"Engines will drive boats ten or twelve miles an hour, and there ,,-ill be 
hundreds of steamers running on the :Mississippi, as predicted years ago." 

53. In 1804 Olivf>r E\"ans con1pleted a flat-bottomed boat (Fi
. 28), 
to bo used at the Philadelphia docks, and, mounting it upon ,vheel
drew it b y its own steam,encrine to the river-bank. Lauuchincr the 
ö ö 
craft, he propelled it J.o\vn the river, using its 
team-engine to drive 
its paddle-,vhecls. Evans's" oructo'J O aniphibolis," as he namell the 
lllachine, was the first road-locomotive that ,ve find descrihed after 
Cng-not's tÍInf>. Evans asserted that carriagcs propelled hy 
,vonld soon be ill C0l1n110n use; and offered a ,vager of three ]lll1Hlred 



donars that he could build a "steam-wagon" that should excel In 
speed the swiftest horse that could be matched against it. 
Evans's connection with steam-navigation will be referred to 
,yhen considering that subject. 



- - 
-- - 

8.-" ÛRUCTOR AMPHIBOLlS," 1804. 

To this brief sketch of Eyans's inventions it can only be added 
that he devised the flne-boiler, no,v generally called the Cornish, and 
used it to furnish steanl to his engines. 

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54. The earliest non-condensing engine brought into use in Great 
Britain seems to have been constructed by Richard Trevithick and 


Andre,v 'Vlvian in 1802. It is stated, hy fri(lr..ds of Oli ,'cr Evans, 
that he had, at an earlier date, sent 
lr. John Sampson to England, 
and, by him, had forwarded drawings and specifications, ,vhich 
Trevithick and 'Vivian inspected, and to ,vhich, it is not iInprohablc, 
they may have been indebted for their plans. ' 
They used a non-condensing, return connecting-rod engine, and 
carried as high as sixty to eighty pounds of steam. 
They built a locomotive-engine in 1804 (Fig. 29), for the railway 

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at l\Ierthyr- Tyd viI, in South "Tales, ,vhich was quite successful, 
although sometimes giving trouble by slipping its wheels. 
This engine had one steam-cylinder 4ï inches dianleter, and car- 
ried forty pounds steam. . 
In consequence of a fear of the wheel slipping, Blenkinsop enl- 
ployed, in 1811, a pinion on tbe locolllotive sllaft, gearing into a rack 
on the road-bed. 
In 1812 Brunton, of Buttcrly, tried to introduce a locomotiye-en- 
gine propelled by levers, like an anÍ1nal's legs, l)ushing 1}e11ind; and 
just at this time mechanics, a1] over the ,yodel, seenl to have become 
very much interested in this prohlen1. 
55. It is at ahont this period that w'e find eyidcnc
 of the intelli- 
gent lahors of another of our countrymen-onc who, in consequence 
of the unobtrnsiye manner in which his work was done, has never 
received the full credit to which he is entitled. 


Colonel John Stevens, of IIobokcn, as he is generally called, was 
born in the city of New York, in 1749, but, throughout his business 
life, he ,vas a resident of New Jersey. 
He )\?as undoubtedly the greatest engineer ana naval architect 
living at the beginning of the present century. 


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"Tithout having made anyone superlatively great improvement in 
the mechanism of the Rtealn-engine, like that which gave ".,.. att his 
fame; ,vithout having the honor of being the first to propose nayi- 
gation by stealn, or steam transportation on land, he exhibited a far 
better knowledge of the science and of the art of engineering than 
any man of his time, and he entertained and urged more advanced 
opinions and n10re statesmanlike yiews, in relation to the economical 
importance of the improvement of the stean1-engine, both on land and 
water, than seem to have been attributable to any other leading 
engineer of that time. 
His attention is said to have been first callfld to the applicati<,:>n of 
steam-power by seeing the experiments of John Fitch with his steam- 
er. He entered upon the 'work of the introduction of ste:lm in navi- 
gation with characteristic energy, and with a success tbat ,,,ill be 
indicated ,vhen we come to the consideration of that branch of the 
su bject. 
But this far-sighted engineer and statesman saw plainly the iU1- 
portance of applying the steam-engine to land transportation as wen 
as navigation; and not only that, but he srnv with equal distinctness 


the importance of a wcll-dc\'isec1 ana carefully-prosecuted schcnlp of 
internal cOllllnunicatioll by a conlplete system of railroads. 
56. In 1812 he publishEd a panlphlet enlbodying "Docunlents 
tending to prove the Superior Advantages of Railways and Steam- 
CarriagcH over Canal Navigation." 1 
.oAt this tinIe, the only ,vorking locomotive in the ,vorld was that, 
of Trevithick and Vivian, at :\Ierthyr - Tydvil, and the railroad 
itself had not grown beyond the old ,vooelen tram-roads of the col- 
Yet, Colonel Stc\'cns says in this paper, "I can sce nothing to 
lJÌllder a steaul-carriagc llloving on its \vays with a velocity of one 
hundred miles an hour," adding in a foot-note: "This astonishing ve- 
locity is considered here 111erely }Jossible. It is probable that it lllay 
not, in practice, be convenient to exceed twenty or tl1irty 111iles per 
hour. ....\.ctual experiments can only determine this nlatter, and I 
should not be surpri:sed at seeing steam-carriages propelled at the rate 
of forty or fifty miles an hour." 
.f\t a yet earlier date he had addressed a 111el110ir to the proper au- 
, urging his plans for railroads. 
lIe proposed rails of tituber, protected ,vhell llPCí'SSary by iron 
plates, or to be lnade ,vholly of iron. 'The car-wheels "
ere to be of 
caðt-iron, ,vith in
ide flanges to keep theIn on the tracIe 'The c;;tealll- 
engine was to be driven by stean1 of fifty pounds pressure, and to be 
.i\nswering the o
jections of l
obert I:. Livingston and of tbe COln- 
luissioners of New York, he goes further into details. 
57. He gives 500 to 1,000 pounds as the lllaxinuun ,veight to De 
placed on each ,vheel, shows that the trains or " suites of carriage
as he calls then}, will make their journeys" with as nlueh certainty 
and celerity in the darkest night as in the light of day," shows that 
the grades of proposed roads would offer but little resistance, and 
places the whole subject before the public with such accuracy of 
statement, and such evident appreeiation of its true value, that every 
one 'who reads this renIarkable dOCll1nent ,vill agree fully ,,
ith the late 
President Charles I{ing, of Cohuubia College, who said that" whoso- 
ever shall attentively read this pamphlet will perceive that the politi- 
cal, financial, cOlnnIcrcial, and n1Ïlitary aspects of this great question 
were all present to Colonel Stevens's l11ind, and that he felt that he 
,vas fulfilling a patriotic duty when he placed at the disposal of his 
native country these fruits of his geniu
"The offer was not then accepted. Th0 Thinker "
as ahead of 11is 
age, but it is grateful to know that he lived to see his projects carried 
out-though not by the GoverIlll1el1t-and that before he finally, in 
1838, closed hi
 eyes in death, at the great age of eighty-nine, ]a' 
. could justly feel a
suretl that the n
llne of Stevens, in l1Ís own l)erso]l 
1 Printcd by T. & J. Sworùg, 1HiO Pearl Street, XC" York, 1812. 


and that of his sons, was imperishably enrolled among these which a 
grateful country will cherish." 
A patent issued to Colonel Stevens by the British Government in 
1805, and a section of a "safety-tubular" boiler subsequently built on 
the san1C plan, and used on a locomotive, are preserved in the Stevens 
Institute of Technology, at I-Ioboken, New Jersey. 

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68. In 1814 George Stephenson, to whom is generally accorded tbe 
honor of having first made the locomotive-engine a snccess, built his 
first engine at l{illingworth, England. 
It had been found during the previous year, by Black
tt & Head- 
ly, "Those engine is stil1 preserved at the South l{ensington Patent 
l\lusennl, that the slipping of the ,vheels could be avoided without 
recourse to extraordinary contrivances, and Stephenson made his en- 
gine a success, using smooth wheels. 
At this tin1e, Stephenson 'was by no means alone in the field, for 
the idea ùf applying the steam-engine to driving carriages on com- 
nlon roads and on railroads was beginning to attract considerable 
Stephenson, however, combined in a very fortunate degree the ad- 
yantages of great natural inventive talent and an excellent mechani- 
cal training, his characteristics as an engineer reminding one strongly 
of those of James Watt. Indeed, Stephenson's portrait bears some 
resemblance to that of the great inventor. 
59. George Stephenson ,vas born in 'Vylam, in the nortb of Eng- 
land, near N ewcastle-upon-Tyne, and ,vas the son of a " north-country 


miner." "Then still a child, he exhibited great mechanical talent and 
unusllallove of study. 
'Vhen set at \york about the mines, his attention to duty and his 
intelligence obtained for him rapid pron1otion, until, ,,,hen about 
seventeen years of age, he was made engineer, and took charge of the 
pumping-engine at which his father was fireman. 
A little later he ,vas made engine-wright at I\:iIlingworth, where 
he soon inspired those who employed him ,vith such confidence in his 
skill and reliability as to obtain an opportunity to design his first Joco- 
motive-engine, Lord Ravens,yorth, one of the principal proprietor
furnishing tbe necessary funds. 
60. In 1815 be applied the blast-pipe in the chiInney, by which the 
puff of the exbaust steam is made useful in intensifying the draug})t, 
and applied it successfully to his second locomotive, here seen in 

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tiOI1 (Fig. 30). This is the essential c})aracteristic of the 10comotive- 
In 1815, therefore, we may say that the modern locomoti,'e steam- 
engine came into existence, for it is this invention of the blast-pipe 
that gives it its life, and it is the Inechanical :1daptation of this and 
of the other organs of the 
:un-enginp to locomotion that gives 
George Stephenson his greatest claim to distinction. 
61. In 1825 the Stockton (.t Darlington Railroad was opened, 
and one of Stephenson's ]ocomotivc
, in which }1e cmployerl his 
" steam-blast," was successfully used, drawing passenger fiS ,yell as 
coal train
. Stephenson had at this tilnc bccon1e engineer of the 
The time required to travel the distance of twelye miles was two 



honrs. This" No.1 Engine" is still prescrvecl at Darlington Station, 
mounted on a granite pedestal, as shown in the picture (Fig. 32). 
62. One of the most important and interesting occasions in the 
history of the application of the non-condensing steam-engine to rail- 
roads, as ,veIl as in the life of Stephenson, ,va8 the opening of the 
Liverpool (.
 )lanchester Hailroad in the year 1829. 

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When this road was built, it was deterIl1ined, after long and ear- 
nest discussion, to try ,vhether locomotive-engines might not be used 
to the exclusion of horses, and a prize of Æ500 ,vas offered for the best 
that should be presented at a date ,vhich was finaUy settled at the' 
ûth of Octob
r, 1829. 


Four engines competed, and the" Rocket," built by Stepbenson, 
received the prize. 
63. This engine (Fig. 33) weighed four and one-fourth tons, with 
its supply of ,vater. Its -boiler ,vas of the fire-tubular form, a fornl 

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that had grow"n into shape in the hands of several inventors/ and ,vas 
three feet in diameter, six feet long, with twenty-fiye three-inch tubes, 
extending from end to end of tl1e boiler. The stealn-blast ,vas care- 
fully adjusted by experinlent, to give the best effect. Ste
was carried at fifty pounds per square inch. 
The average speed of the 
ocket on its trial was fifteen 
llliles per hour, and its nlaxi- 
Illum ,vas nearly douhle tl1at, 
t,venty-nine miles an hour; 
and afterward, running alone, 
it reached a speed of thirty- 
fi ve n1Ïlcs. 
The shares of the COIll- 
pany inlmediately rose ten 
per cent. in value. Tlll;s the 
conlbination of the non-con- 
densing engine with a stmlln- 
blast and the multitu bular 
boiler, designed by the clear 
head and constructed nnder 
the watchful eye of an ac- 
complished engineer ana nlechanic, nladc steanl-loco
lotion so evident 
and decided a success that t11encefor"
:lrd its progress has been un- 
interrupted and 'wonderfully rapid. 
1 Barlow afld Fulton, 1795; Nathan Read, Salem, United States, 1796; Booth, of Eng- 
bnd, athl Séguin, of Francf', about 1827 or 1828. 

FIG. 33.-THE ROCKET, 1829. 


64. In America the locomotive was set at regular ",
ork on rail- 
roads, for the first time, on the 8th of August, 1829. 1 
This first loconlotive ,vas built by Foster, Rastrick & Co., at Stour- 
bridge, England, and was purchased by 1\lr. Iloratio Allen for tte 
Delaware (.
 Hudson CanaÌ Company's road ii'om Carbondale to 
Honesdale, Pennsylvania. 
ßlr. Peter Cooper, of New York, placed an experimental loconlo- 
tive on the Baltimore & Ohio I
ailroad in 1829. It ran about fifteen 
miles an hour at maximunl speed. 
The first A
1erican locon1otive to do real service continuously was 
the" Best Friel1d" (Fig. 34), built at the 'Vest l>oint Iron Foundery, 

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FIG. 34.-THE "BEST FRIEND," 1830. 

in the year 1830, for the South Carolina Railroad, on ,,
I1Ïch road it 
ran from January, 1831, to June 17th of the same year, when it was 
destrored by the explosion of its boiler. 
A second locomotive (Fig. 35) was built at 'V. est Point for the same 
road in lR31, which resembled somewhat those built at about the 
same time, and a little later, by Stephenson. 
It "Tas at this time (1831), also, that ::\11'. I-Ioratio ....t\.llen introducec1 
the first eight-wheeled locomotives ever built, and ga-ve them a fonn 
(Fig. 36) which \vill be at once recognized by the engineer as tIle 
prototype of a recently-built locomotiye which has been brought 
out in Great Britain. In this year, also, an engine, the De 'Vitt 
Clinton, was built for John B. Jervis of the 
loha\Vk & IIudson 
Railroali . 
65. At about the time of the opening of the early railroads, tbe 
J U History of the First Locomotive in America," 'V. H. Brown. D. Appleton & Co., 
New York, 1872. 


introduction of steam-carriages on the common highway had become 
a favorite idea with engineers. 1 

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FIG. 35.-TuE "VEST POINT, 1831. 

In Decelnber, 1833, about twenty steam-carriages and traction 
d-engines ,vere running or were in course of construction in and 
near London. 




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In our own country, the roughness of roads discouraged inventors, 
and, in Great Britain ev
n, the successful introduction of road-loco- 
motives, ,vhich scemed at one time almost an accomplished fact, finally 
1 U Road-Locomotives and Traction-Engines," .Jow'nal of tlte Franklin Institute, 1871. 


met with so many obstacles that even Hancock and Gurney, the most 
ingenious, persi
tent, and successful constructors, gave up in despair. 
Hostile legislation procured by opposing interests, and pos
ibly also 
the rapid })rogress of steanl-Iocolllotion on railroads, caused this result. 
In consequence of this interruption of experiment, almost nothing 
,vas donc during the suc- 
ceeding quarter of 3 c
tury, and it is only 'within 
a fe,v years that anything 
like a business success has 
1)een founded upon the con- 
struction of road-Iocomo- 
ti \reS, although tIlC scheme 
seenlS to have been at no 
time entirely given up. 
l\Iessrs. A ve1ing & Por- 
ter, J. Scott Russell, BoydeH, and a few others in England, and l\Iessrs. 
Roper, Dudgeon, Fawkes, Latta, anù J. K. Fisber, in tbe United 
States, have all, at various times, labored in this direction. 
The last-named engineer designed his first steam-carriage in 1840, 
and was still at "
ork at the time of his death, in 1873. 
Abroad, a few' firn1s bave succeeded, within a few years 1)3st, in 
making a business of considerable extent in constructing road-loco- 
motives for hauling bea vy loads, and in building steam road-rollers. 
'Vhile stean1-carriages of high speed, and adapted to the trans- 
portation of passengers, haye not yet been f\uccessful1y introduced, a 
most promising start has been lnnde in the application of stealll to 
the heavier kinds of work on the COm1nOll road. 
The great impediments seem to be the roughness and bad construc- 
tion of the ordinary highwa)-, the damages arising from the taking 
fright of horses, the engineering difficulties of construction, and the 
limited po,ver of the machine as it has usually been built. Hostile 
legislation might perhaps be placed in the category, but we are }1)'ob- 
ably sufficiently far advanced in civilization to-day to be able to secure 
liberal legislation "when the people shall be satisfied that the introduc- 
tion of the road-locomotive \vill be of great public advantage. 
66. The capabilities of tbe road-Iocolllotive are readily detennined 
by experiment, and the follo.wing is an abstract of the results of several 
series of trials. 1 A trial of a road-engine 'vas Inade by the wcll-kno,yn 
Fr('nch engineer, H. Tresca, 
n presence of Prof. Fleeming Jenkin, 
and t be report .was su l)nlitted on January 15, 1868. The reHults were 
as follows: 1. The coefficient of traction ,vas about 0.25 on a good 
road ,vith easy grade
. 2. The consumption of coal was 4.4 pounds 
per horse-power per honr. 3. The COnSlll11ption of water was 132.2 
gallons an hour 'with the ten-horse engine. 4. The coefficient of ad- 

, 1 



1 Appletons' American Cyclopædia, article" Steam-Carriage." 


herence or of friction between the wheels and the soil, was 0.3. 5. A 
speed of seven miles an hour caused no special difficulty ill managing 
either the locomotive or its load. j\t about this time 
l. Servel con- 

FIG. 38.-GUR

ducted a series of experiments with a similar machine upon paved 
and upon macadamized roads, during ,vhat he described as the most 
trying of winter weather. lIe reports the following distribution of 
weight per cent. : 

'Veight of locomotive. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 41.4 
" "wagons.. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . .. 18.2 
" "paying load. . . " . . .. . . . . . .. .. . . . . . . . . .. .. .. .. . . .. .. 40.4 

Total. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 

The average total ,yeight of three loaded ,,
agons, which ,vas the 
usual load, ,vas 22,575 kilogrammes, or about t,venty-t"
o tons. The 
experiment was made in 1867-'68 of applying these engines to the 
towage of boats on the French canals, with very encouraging results. 
In 1871 se\'eral traction-engines were exhibited before the Royal 
Agricultural Society of Englanù at "\\TolverhauIPton, and the judges 
mat1e a series of carefnl tests, reported in its " Journal" for that year. 
The coal used on special trial amounted to 3.2 pounds per indicated 
horse-power per hour, and the cyaporation of ,vater ,vas 7.62 pounds 
per pound of coal consluuec1, the average tell1perature of feed being 
175 0 Fahr. The load drawn up the nl:1xiuHUn grade of 264 feet to the 
mile on Tottenha1ll IIill, which is 1,900 feet frolll top to bottom, "
tw'enty-six tons, and including "reight of cngine thirty-eight tODB, 
giving a coefficient of traction of 0.35. On a country-road sixteen 
miles long it drew fifteen tons at an :1yerage rate of 3i n1Ïles an hour, 
using 2.85 pounds of coal and 1. ü! gallon of 'water pC'r ton of useful 
load per nÜle. 
67. In October, 1871, the writer conducted a public trial of roacl- 
engines and steam road-rollers, on a w'ell-macadamizeù roaù at South 
Orange, N e,v J ers3Y. Two road-steau1ers (Fig. 39)" or traction-el1- 
T"OL. XII.-18 


gines and a steam road-roller ,vere tried. The following were the 
principal dimen
ions: "\Veight of engine complete, five tons four hun- 
dred-weight (11,648 pound::;); diameter of stean1-cylindcr, 7-1 inches; 
stroke of piston, ten inches; revolutions of crank to one of driving- 
wheel, seventeen; dialllcter of driving-wheels, sixty inchES; length of 
boiler over all, eight feet; diameter of boiler-shell, thirty inches; load 
on driving-wheels, four tons ten hunch'ed-weight (10,080 })ounds). The 
boiler was of the ordinary locomotive type, and the engine was mounted 
upon it, as is usual with portable engines. The engine valve-gear con- 
sisted of a three-ported valve and Stephenson-link, 'with reversing 
le\'er, as generally used on locomotives. The connection between tl1e 

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gearing and the driving-wheels \\T3S effected by the device called by 
builders of cotton-machinery a J 3ck-in-the-box gear, or differential 
gear. By this conlbinatioll, the effort exerted by the engine is made 
equal at both wheels at all time
, e\-en 'when t1)e engine is turning a 
corner. The folIo,ving is a summary of the conclusions deduced from 
the trial, and pnhlished in the JOlll"nal of the Franldin Institute: A 
traction-engine nUlY be so constructed as to be easily and rapidly 
manæuvred on the comn10n road; and an engine weighing' over five 
tons JTIny be turned continno.usly 'without difficulty on a circle of 
eighteen feet radius, or even on a road but little wider than the length 
of the engine. A IocomotÏ\.e of five tons four hundred-weight has 
been constructed, capahle of drawing on a good road 23,000 pounds 
up a grade of 533 feet to the mile, at the rate of four miles an hour; 
and one luight be constructed to dra,v more than 63,000 pounds Ul) a 
grade of 225 feet to the mile, at the rate of two miles an hour. It 
,vas furt1Jer shown thnt the coefficient of traction "Tith l)eavily-Iaden 
wagons on a good Illacadan1Ïzed road is not far from T t 0 ; the traction- 
po'wer of tl1Ís engine is equal to that of t,venty horses; tlH.) weight, ex- 
clusive of the w'eight of the engine, that could be drawn on a level 
road, was 163,452 l)ounds; and the al110nnt of fuel required is esti- 
mated at 500 pounds a day. The advantages claimed for the traction- 
engine over llorse-power are: K 0 necessity for a limitation of working- 
hours; a difference in first cost in fa VOl' of steam; and in l)ea-,y 'work 
on a common road the expense by steam is less than t,venty-five per 


cent. of the average cost of horse-power, a traction-engine capable of 
doing the work of t.wenty-five horses being worked at as little expense 
as ::;ix or eight }}orses. 
68. Now, thirty years after the defeat of tIle intelligent, coura- 
geous and persistent Ilancock and his co-workers in the scheme of ap- 
plying the steam-engine usefully on the comlnon road, we find strong 
inditations that, in a nc,v fornI, the problem has been again attacked 
and at least partially solved. It was formerly supposed that success 
in the transportation of passengers by 
teanl on post-routes ,vonld 
lead to the application of that. Inotor to the movemen t of heavy loads 
and to agricultural purposes generally. 'Vhen, after so long a trial, 
the experinH'ut finally seenled to have failed of success, it ,vas be- 
lieved that steam could not be applied to heavier work on comnlon 
roads. As 'we ha,.e no,v seen, however, it appears probable tbat the 
inventors of that day,attacked the problem at the ,vrong point, and 
that, on the common road, the transportation of heavy loads by 
steam being accomplished ,vith economical success, under ordinarily 
favorable circumstances, it may prove introductory to tbe use of 
steam in carrying passengers and light freight at higher velocities. 
One of the most in1portant of the prerequisites to ultimate suc- 
cess in the substitution of stealll for animal po,ver on the highway is 
that our roads shall be welllnade. 
As the greatest care and judgnlent are exercised, and an inlmense 
outlay of capital is considered justifiable, in securing easy grades and 
a smooth track on our railroad routes, ,ye may readily believe tl}at 
sin1Ïlar l)recaution and outlay ,vill be found advisable in adopting the 
COlunlon road to the road-locon10tive. 
It is undeniably the fact that, even when relying npon horse-power, 
far less attention has been paid to the ilnprovenlent of our roads t}]an 
true econonlY ,voultl dictate. "Vith steam*power, the gain by careful 
grading and excellence of construction of the road-bed becomes still 
more in1portant. The anilnal Iuechauislu is less affected in its power 
of drawing heavy loads than is the Juachine. ""Tith the horse, a bad 
road inlpedes transportation principally by resisting the lUOyelnent 
of the 10:1<.1 rather than of the aninlal, 'while with tIle traction-engine 
the Inotor is as seriously retarded as tlJl
 train which follows it, and 
frequently much more, on soft gronnrl. 
Steam, therefore, cannot be expected to attain its full measure of 
Success on rough and ill-nutde roads; but where highways are intelli- 
gently engineered and thoroughly well built, or where Nature has 
relieved the engineer and the road-builder of the expensive work of 
grading, as throughout a very large extent of the "T estern ana South- 
ern portion of our country, ,ve )llay expect to see the road-Ioconloti,.e 
rapidly introduced. 
The earliest ana most perfect success of the traction-engine, and 
its probahle successor, the stcanl-carriage, may be expected to occur 


in such districts. Its great economical advantage over animal power, 
its freedolll frolll liability to becolne di
abled by epizoütic diseases, 
its reliability uuder all cireumstances, and the many other advantages 
which are possessE:d by the n13,chine, are already securing its introduc- 
tion, despite the difficulties arising from popular prejudice and unfa- 
n1Ïliarity, from hostile municipalla,vs and other existing obstacles. 
We are learning tlí}at this motor, when it can be used at alJ, is com- 
paratively inexpensive; that our roads are improved by it; and that 
the ancient idea of its conflicting with the interests of o,vners and 
'workers of horses is only a superstition. 


Such a commencen1ent having been made, it is difficult to conceive 
how great nlay not, be the future of this branch of industry 'when the 
valley of the l\Iississippi and our "... estern plains, the natural ]]abitat 
of thi" motor, shall have become finally a principal seat of its manu- 
facture as well as of its employment.! 
69. The steam-blast of Jlack,,?orth, the tubular boiler of Séguin, 
and the link-motion of Stephenson, constitute the essential features 
of the modern 10con1otive. Locolnotives have gradually and steadily 
increased in size and power from the date of their introduction. 
The Rocket, which fir
t proyed eonclusively, in 1829, the value of 
steam-lof'omotion, 'weighed 4:1- tons. In 1835 Robert Stephen
ho had constructed it with his father, "
riting to Robert L. Ste- 
vens, said that lle was making his engines heavier and }]eayier, and 
that the engine of which he inclosed a sketch w'eighed nine tons, 
and could dra'w " 100 tons at the rate of sixteen miles an hour, on a 
leve1." LocOlnotives are now built .weiglling seventy tons, and power- 
ful enough to draw more than 2,000 tons at a f'peec1 of t"?cnty miles 
an hour. The modern locomotive consists of a boiler, n10unted upon 
a strong light frame of forged iron, by whieh it is connected with 
the wheelR. The largest engine yet. con
trncted in the United States 
iR said to be one in u
e on the Philadelphia &
 Reading Railroatl, hay- 
 a ,veigl]t of about 100,000 pounds, \\?hich is carried on twelve 
driving-wheels. A locon1oti ye has t,vo steanl cy Hnrlers, either F-ic1e 
1 Vide paper by the author, .Journal of tlLe F1.anklin Institute, 1871. 


by side w.ithin the frame, and immediat
ly beneath the forward end 
of the boiler, or on each side and exterior to the frame. The engines 
are non-condensing and of the sin1plest possible construction. The 
whole machine is carried upon strong but flexible steel springs. The 
steam - pressure is usually 
nlore than 100 pounds. The 
l)ulling- power is generally 
about one-fifth the ,veight 
under most favorable con- 
ditions, and becomes as low 
as one - tenth on ,vet rails. 
rfhe fuel employed is wood 
in new countries, coke in bi- 
tuminous coal districts, and 
anthracite coal in the eastern 
'part of the United States. 
'fhe general arrangement and the proportions of locomotives differ 
somewhat in different localities. In Fig. 41, a British express-engine, 
o is the boiler, N the fire-box, X the grate, G the smoke-box, and P 
the chimney. S is a spring, and R a lever safety-yalve, l' is the 
,vhistle, L the throttle or regulator valve, E the steam-cylinder, and 
1Vthe driving-wheel. The force-pun}p, B 0, is clriyen from the cross- 
head, IJ. The fr3me is the base of the ,vhole system, and all other 
})arts are firmly secured to it. The boiler i::; made fast at one end, 
and provision is made for its expansion when heated. Adhesion is 
secured by throw-ing a proper proportion of the weight upon the 
driving.,vheel TV
 ,rfhis is from about 6,000 pounds on standard 
freight-engines, having several pairs of drivers, to 10,000 pounds on 
passenger-engines, per axle. The peculiarities of tbe American type 
(Figs. 42, 43) are the truck or bogie supporting the forward part of 
the engine, the system of equalizers, or beams which distribute the 
weight of the machine equally over the several axles, and n1Înor 
differences of detail. The cab or house protecting the engine-driver 
anù fireman is an American device, "rhich is gradually con1Ïng into 
use abroad also. The American locomotive (Fig. 43) is distinguished 
by its flexibility and ease of action even upon roughly-laid road
The cost of passenger-Ioconlotives of ordinary size is about $12,000; 
heavier engines sometimes cost $20,000. The locomotive is usually 
furnisbed with a tender, which carries its fuel and ,vater. The stand- 
ard passenger-engine on the Pennsylvania Railroad is quite similar in 
form to the Baldwin engine (Fig. 42), anù has four driving-wheels 
(G, II), 5t feet diameter"; steanl-cylinders (C, .D), seventeen incheH 
di:1llleter and two feet stroke; grate-surface (N) 15-1- square fect, and 
heating-surface 1,058 square feet. It weighs 63,100 pound
, of ,,
39,000 pounds are on the drivers and 24,100 on the truck, L IL The 
shell of the boiler is 49i inches diameter aua 20 feet 2!- inches long. 


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27 8 


The fire-box, 
'T N, is of steel, si
 feet two inches long outside, 3t 
feet wide, and five feet four inches })igh. The tnbc
, 0 0, are of iron, 
142 in number, 2t inches dialneter, and eleven feet seven inches long. 
The steam-dome, R, is thirty inches outside diameter, the smoke- 











stack, p, 14t inches. The feed-water is supplied by one pnmp, Ii, of 
2t inches diameter and two feet stroke, and by a No. 8 Giffard in- 
jector. The valves, T, are 16 
 inches .wide by 8l inches long, and 
have five inches travel. The ste
un-ports are 15ft incl)es wide and 
It inch long, and the exhaust-port 15t-i- by 2! inches. The lap of tbe 


valve is, outside! inch, inside {';14 inch. The eccentrics have a thro,v of 
41 inches. The standard freight-engine Las six driving-"rheels, 54
inches in diameter. The steam-cylinders are eighteen iu(:hes ill dianle- 
tel', stroke twenty-two inches, grate-surface 14.8 square feet, lleating- 
surface 1,096 feet. It weighs 68,500 pounds, of which 48,000 ar
the drivers and 20,500 on the truck. The boiler is nearly of the same 
dimensions as that of the passenger-engine, but the tubes are 2} inches 
in di:uneter, twelve feet 91 6 inches long, and 119 in nun} bel'. The 
stack is eighteen inches in dianleter. The plunp is 21- inches in diam- 
eter, and has a stroke of twenty-two inches. The valve has 1 inch 
inside lap, n inch outside. The former takes a train of fiye cars up 
an average grade of ninety feet to the nlile. The ]atter is attae]Jpd 
to a train of eleven cars. On a grade of fifty feet to t}a
 Inil<., the 
fornlpr takes seven and the latter seventeen cars. Tank-engines for 
very heavy work, such as on gradps of 320 feet to the mile, ,vhich are 
foÙnd on some of the railroads where gradients are very steep, ha,.e 
five pairs of coupled driving-wheels, and are not fitted ,vith trucks. 
Such engines have, usually, steam-cylinders about twenty inches in 
òian}eter and t,vo feet stroke of pi
ton. Their grates have an area 
of fifteen or sixteen square feet, and the heating-surface has an area of 
1,400 to 1,500 square feet. Engincs of this class, w'eíghing fifty tOllS, 
have hauled 110 tOllR up the heaviest grades of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road at the rate of five miles an hour. Ste::nn-pressure is carried at 
from 125 to 150 pounds on the sqnare inch. 
70. ,.::\ train weighing 150 tons is drawn by an express-engine (Fig. 



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43) at the Rpeed of sixty n1Ïlcs an hour, the engine dt'Ye1oping about 
800 horse-pow"er. 1 An engine c1rawiug a light train has 1well known 
to lnake ahout one 11Ulldred llliles ill one hundred n1Ínute
, which hpced 
may be taken as reprc
eìlting the Ill:1xilllUlll for th(\ best lllodern 
engilws on the best existing roads. 
) Xear)y equivalent to tl1c actual power of 1.200 horses. 


The life of the locomotive, when ,veIl cared for, cannot be exactly 
stated, but may be taken as not far from thirty years. RerJairs 
cost, annually, ten or fifteen per cent. of tbe first cost. 'Yhile run- 
ning, each engine requires about four pints of oil and two tons of coal 
for each one hundred miles. 
71. After their introduction, tbe growth of railroads and the use 
of locomotives extended in the United States and in Europe with 
great rapiùity. 
The first railroad in the United States was built near Quincy, l\las- 
sachusetts, in 1826. 
In 1850 there were about 700 miles in operation; in 1860 there 
were over 30,000; and there are to-day about 76,000 miles of COIll- 
pleted road in the United States, and the rate of increase had risen in 
1873 to above 7,000 miles per year, as a nlaximunl, and the c011sump- 
tion of rails for renew'al alone amounts to nearly a half-million tons 
per year. 




T HE problem which excites more interest than any otber in tbe 
larger cities of onr country is that in regard to the best dis- 
position of se" age. People have slowly come to realize that in 
some way a series of disorders arises from the presence of "waste 
111attor in cities. So weB ascertained is this fact that diseases which 
are attributed to the presence of filth are aptly ealled filth-diseases, 
and it is well that they are at last branded hy their rigl1t name. 
One JUts only to consult tbe valuable reports of tbe State boards of 
health for infomation on tbese matters. In these reports he ,,
ill find 
an over
Thelming Inass of evidence tracing typhoid fever, cholera 
infantum, and other ùiseases, to the presence of filth, and to its 



infectious character ,vhen communicating with water-supplies, or 
through its malarial gases affecting the air of houses. At present the 
causes of high death-rates are as certainly kno,vn as the course of 
storms. Indeed, the intelligent l)hysi
ian will predict the necessary 
consequences which must ensue from the presence in a cro,vded city 
of matter which should be removed. Interestcd as I have bcen in 
these subjects, I looked for,vard with considerable eagerness to an 
opportunity for studying the conùitions which obtain among the 
Japanese concerning these ll1atters. Their manner of Jiving, thcir 
food, their domestic habits, are all so different from onrs, that it nat- 
urally occurred to me, if these filth-diseases are as common here, with 
their cleanly habits, and the universal custOTI1 of removing offal fl'oln 
their dwellings, as with us where the same matter lies in a frightful 
state for months to pollute the neighborhood, then the points urged 
in regard to the relations Letween filth-diseases and offal must be 
'modified or abandoned. 
'Vhat do the facts show? 
At home, the following conditions are }'igbtly looked upon as 
grave sources of danger: the presence of privies in the vicinity of 
wells, cellars filled ,vith decaying vegetable matter, Do water-closet or 
In'ivy connected iUl1nediately with a house, or the ingress of f'ewage- 
gas to a house. It is at present difficult to get any vital statistics 
regarding the Japanese. 'Vhile the GovenHnent ana people haye 
nlade the nlost surprising strides toward the civilization of 'Yestern 
nations (for they have a civilization of their O'wn ,vhich in IDallY re- 
spects is Ütr ahead of ours 1), and have established nOI'lnal schools and 
. universities, medical and naval colleges, hydrograp1Üc and other sur- 
yeys, they ha70 not yet seen the irnportance of organizing a board of 
health. 2 
One would be justified in assuming that if these sources of danger 
existed, the foreigner, unaccliulated as he is, woulù be nlore susce})- 
tible to theil' influence than the native. Dr. Stuart Eldridge, of Y 0- 
kohaJna, a distinguished physician, ,vIlo has had a long and varied 
expE:'ricnce in thi
 country in ho
pital-work ana as an active practi- 
tioner, has kinùly furnished TIle ,vith the following data at my re- 
quest: "Scarlet feyer alnzost 'llnl
noU)n, never cpidenlÎc. Diphthe- 
ria almo
t unkno"
n, never epidcInic. Severer fornu, of bu,,
ease, such as òysentery and chronic t1iarrhæa, yery rare. 1\lala- 
1 If some of the indications of ci\"ilization arc to treat each other kinùly, to treat their 
children with unvarying kindness, to treat the anima18 below them with tcnùerl1ess, to 
honor their father and mother, to be scrupulou
l'y clean in thcir persons, to be frugal find 
temperate in their hahits-if thcse features be recognizcd as civilized, then this pagan 
nation in these resþect:; is as far ahead of U8 a
 we are ahead of the Tierra d('l Fuegans. 
! "
e ought not to expect this of Japan, perhaps, since tlw repre:,cntativcs sent by 
:Maine to her Legi
lature w('re, with fl'w exceptions, too ignorant to appreciate the neces. 
sityof a State board of health, and were incredulous that the phy:::icians who urged the 
me.'lSUrc so strongly were unselfishly working for its cstabli:,lllnellt ! 


rial diseases of severe nature uncommon; even the milder forms in 
most localities not cDronion. Typhoid and typhus rarely epidemic, 
the latter uncommon." 'Vith these faC'ts before us, let us examine 
the conditions of living among the
e people. It is well known that 
their houses al'e so arranged that the ,vinds blow through them from 
one end to the other. In sumnler they are entirely opel!. The privies 
are never connected inunediately with the houses except among the 
lower class
s in the larger cities, where, as in Tokio for exanlple, aIllong 
the poorer houses the privy is in the back part of the house, but even 
in these cases a close 
liding-door al ways separates this apartlnent 
frolll the Ii ving-roonl, and a grated window without glass permits 
thorough ventilation. In the public inns, too, the privy is some- 
tinles connected 'with the building, to the great discomfort of for- 
eigners. In the country villages it stands alongside the road, separate 
frolll the house. Their sewage system, so far as I am aware, is F:U- 
perficial, and there is no sewage-gas to contaminate the air. The 
houses have no cellars, and consequently the air in them is Bot pol- 
luted from this source. On the other hand, their wells are not always 
properly situated, and the water is liable to pollution fronl gutters. 
The important point to be noted, however, is in regard to the di
sition of their offal, and it is ,vell known that e\rery day or two this 
is rell10ved and scattered on their rice-fields and other cultivated 
areas. The vaults consist of water-tight vessels of limited capacity. 
In Tokio they u
e for this purpose oil-barrels, ,vhich they coat ,yith 
a kind of Yarni
h inside and onto FrolH the snulll size of this yesstl 
accuillulation never occurs, and from its nature the soil never hecomes 
saturated hy its contents. 
Ien, instead of being paid to rClllove it, 
actually pay for it ! 
The Japanese having no cattle or sheep, but few horses, no pigs, 
and but few fowls at thp most, depend entirely upon tl)e sewage 
of towns fOl' the fertilizing material of their farn1s. Koone at honle 
can fornl any idea of the pertect manner of this w'ork. Even in as 
large a city as Tokio, ,vith its million inhahitant!':, this service is 
performed with a neatness and thoroughness ,,
hich snrpasses belief. 
The foreigner finds one of his senses rudely assailed at times, though, 
as to that matter, he may go into one of the lllost refined cities of 
.A.lllerica, and, with the exception of a fe'w snnlmer nlonths, encounter 
the saIne discomforts. Dr. David )Iurray has called my attention to 
the very Ïtnportant service perform('d hy the crows and a kind of 
hawk which act as scavengers. 'Y' e are so accnstolncd at ])Ollle to 
find these birds especially wild and wary, that it is a somew}Jat 
startling sight to see them perching on the buildings in a cro,,"ded 
city like Tokio, an(l sw"oo})ing down in front of yon in quest of 
food, "rhich might otherwise decay and vitiate the atmosphere. The 
 and brutality, generally speaking, of the children of 
Christian nations lead to the stoning of dogs, cats, an.d birds of all 


28 3 

kinds. In J apall such a thing is unknown, and a stone tb1'o" n at a 
dog (I speak from' experience) is generalJy answered by an inquiring 
look, hens hop out of the way, and even cats do not take the hint! 
In other words, the crows and hawks are never molestC'd, ana the 
result is that all carrion and other stuff left in the streets :ire pounced 
upon and carried off immediately. 
As far as climatic conditions are concerned everything is most 
favorable for tbe development of filth-diseases, provided the sources 
of danger were present. In the summer months the heat is often- 
times oppressive,. the moisture excessive, meat decays rapidly, and 
the decoluposition of fruit and vegetables quickly ensues. 'Yith 
fruit especially ripeness is almost coincidC'nt ,vith decay. 
In regard to the personal habits of the people, it is interesting to 
remark tbat they drink very little cold water. The 'water is drunk as 
hot tea-in other words, it is boiled. Of extren1e importance, too, in 
regard to children'8 disorders, is the fact that, until t}Jey are t'\vo or 
three years old, they draw their nourisbment from the maternal fount. 
No child is fed u1.tificially. 
On the other band, it is interesting to note that the Japanese eat 
unripe fruit to an inordinate extent. "rhe moment fruit shows the 
filightest signs of being soft as an evidence of ripeness] it is consid- 
ered by them as unfit to eat. It is astonishing to see them eat bard, 
green peaches-clinching them in the fist, as a country boy does a 
lIard apple, and biting off each mouthful with a loud snap. They eat 
their pears in the same wa"y; cucumbers are eaten in a more unripe 
condition than with us even; and water-melons, which arc so much 
inveighed against at hODle, are ]Jere eaten by all classes and at all 
In fact, they seem to revel in thoEe tllings whic11 at 110nlc are con- 
6idered so }u'oductive of sumnler-comp]aints; ",JIO does not recall the 
astonishment he }ms felt at the sight of country children of tender 
age eating green apples, green corn uncooked, and simi1ar things, and 
yet suffering no ill-effects therefronl? These facts nUlY not p1'o\"(', 
perhaps, that unripe fruit is lwrnlless; but, in connection ,vith the 
other statements, they do sho'w that the renloyal of se"yage-lnatter 
frolll houses is the important .point to consider, and that its 1'el11oyal 
insures an absence, or a less nurnl)er, of cases of tl10SC diseases which 
enhance our death-rate at home, and lends an additional rC'ason for 
thc necessity of vigilance on the part of communities regarding these 
Conccrning sunstroke, it is helieved at home that one of its incit- 
ing canses is the exposure of tl1(, l}ody or IH
ad to the overpo,vering 
Ileat of the Run; and the sul)jection of the uncovered }w3d to the 
direct rays of the snn is looked upon as dangerous. On the other 
band, it iR admittec1 that intenlperance in food or drink, and particu- 
larly the latter, nlay be inducing causes. Be that as it may, it is Bug" 


gestive to Iilote the rare occurrence of sunstrokQ among the Japanese, 
and to remark tl1at two out of three go bareheaded. Th
 ,v omen 
never have their heads covered, and the men do not alw"ays protect 
theirs with the sun-shade. ...\.nlong the lower classes, few have their 
heads covered except ill the hottest ","cather-the Jinrikisha men 
and the Bottoes 1 running for miles bareheaded. In most cases the 
head is shaved on top. If exposure of the head to the direct rays 
of the sun is the inducing cause of sunstroke, then here, in latitude 
O, we should expect numerous cases, w'hile, if over-eating and over- 
drinking-in otIler words, intemperate habits-arc the inducing 
causes, then we ean understand the inl111unity of the Japanese :M'Onl 
this malady: for a more teluperate and frugal pcolJle do not exist on 
the face of the globe. 
One observes in traveling through the country the almost entire 
absence of deformities arising from accidents-no broken backs or 
broken noses, no unequal legs, or other mutilations or defornlities of 
any sort. A fruitful source of these misfortunes at home lllay be 
traced to accidents which befall children, such as falling out of win- 
dows, tUll1bling down-stairs, being knocked down in the street by run- 
away horses, and, in later years, the deforn1Ïties of the face, often- 
times the result of drunken rows and fights; the C'Jlllmon occur- 
rence of huilding-accidents, from insecure and dishonest staging, and 
the hundreds of other ways in which mutilations are met with in 13Tge 
factories. In Japan the houses are one story high; ogenel'ally speak- 
ing, thE:'re are no winJows to tumble out of, or flights of stairs to 
tumble down. Ilorses, except as pack-hol'ses, are 1'are. 2 The people 
do not have drunken brawls. Their stagings are always built to holc1 
together, and thus pagan temples are reared, and pagan temples are 
repainted, without those appalling accidents ,,
hich occur in a service 
of like nature at borne. There are no big factories; and so, with these 
sources of danger e1iminated, we find a n
ason, perhaps, for the 3h- . 
sence of deformities. 
In regard to the prevalence of certain other diseases wl1ich may 
be of interest in a paper of this nature, it is gratifying to know that 
small-pox, ,vhich 'was formerly en(lemic, is now coming under control 
by the Government taking acti,e measures to insure vaccination. A 
vaccine fann is nulÍntained, and it is compulsory on everyone to be 
vaccinated. The frightful scourges of this disease in past times are 
seen in the sadly-scarred faces of so many of the people, and in the 
number of blind persons one encounter
Eye-diseases of various kinds are })revalent, and near-sightedness 
seems very common, judging from the number of people who wear 
glasses. "r eakness of vision must in some measure be attributed to 

1 Bettoes are servants who run besiJe the horses or before them when one is driving. 
2 Only within a few years have horses been used in the streets of Tokio, and a police 
regulation requires a man to run in front of each one in C'very crowded thoroughfare. 


28 5 

the poor light the people provide themselves with. ....\. dim candle, 
or, at most, a tiny wick resting on the edge of a vecsel of vegetable 
oil of feeble illuminating po.wer, and this inclo
ed in a paper lantern, 
is the almost universal lamp of the Japanese; and with this dim light 
the student studies his Chinese classics, the characters of 'which are 
so confusedly 'wrought together, and the "
oman performs her sewing 
on the customary dark-blue cloth. The gradual introduction of kero- 
sene-oil, ,vhich is now going on, must i
l some way rnodify these 
l\Ieasles is occasionally epidemic, and, owing to the exposed life 
of the people, often very severe. Phthisis is not more COll1mon in 
Japan than in our l\Iiddle States. Articular rheumatism is not com- 
mon, but muscular rheumatisnl is very common. Skin-diseases are 
common, especially the cont
gious forms. The uniyersal use of the 
, razor in shaving, and the custom of itinerant barbers, who travel from 
o"ne village to another shaving indiscriminately, indicate too plainly 
the reason for t])e prevalence of contagious diseases of the skin. 
In Japan e,'eryhody shaves. The men shave the tops of their headf:, 
the beard and mustache, and, curiously enough, every portion of tbe 
face, even to the eyelids (not the eyelashes), the lobes of the ears, 
and the nORe to its very tip. 1\Iarried ,vomen shave their eyebro,vs ; 
, and pricsts shave the cntire scalp; babies even haye t11eir 
heads sha\?ed in such a manner as to leave the most grotesqne bunc}Ies 
of hair symmetrical1y dispoEed, like a fancy garden-plot, the remain- 
ing portions of the scalp being entirely denuded. It i
 rather the 
exception th3,n the rule to find a ('hild's head free frOlll an eruption 
of some kind, and for this reason, as a general thing, the Japanese 
babies are unattractive. 
1\f y observations on the facts kindly furnished 111e hy Dr. Eldridge 
apply only to the region about Tokio. The experience upon which 
these are made is based on a tour of a hundred 1l1ilcs to the northwest 
of Tokio, 3, good part of the inland journey being made on foot, nlany 
rambles through the streets of Tokio, and a six weeks' sojourn in a 
little yil1age seventeen miles south of Yokohama. During all these 
trips and 
ojourns I have had my note and sketch book constantly 
'with me, and have given the strictest attention to the sanitary COD- 
dition of the houses and their surroundings. 
In conclusion, it is gratifying to kno,v that more soH(l progress 
l1:1s heen made in nlcdicine and surgery than in any other hranch of 
"r estern science, and th:1t the old ChiHcse Systp1l1, with its grotesque 
aùsurdities, is doonled. 

P. S.-Just as I anI lllailing this, the alanning news COIneR that 
the Asiatic eh01er:1 has ma(le its flppearnnce in Yokohanl[t in the mOf.t 
enlphntic manner. It win, of course, extend to Tokio; fllH1, curiou
enough, t1)e very enston1::
 of the people wI1Ích tend to thw
1l't the ray 


ages of certain other diseases ,vill in this case be the very conditions 
to promote the ravages of cholera. A parallel case would be that of 
refully removing tbe coals of fire from a building every night, as a 
saîeguard to the structure; but let a sudden gale spring up, and the 
embers thus removed 'would be scattered far and wide. 

. - . 



By C. S. PEIRC E, 


W IIOEVER has looked into a modern treatise on logic of the 
common sort, will ùoubtless remember the two distinctions 
between clear and obscure conceptions, and between distiuct and con- 
fused conceptions. They have lain in the books now for nigh two 
centuries, unimproved and unmodified, and are generally reckoned by 
logicians as among the gems of their doctrine. 
A clear idea is defined as one which is so apprehended that it will 
ùe recognized wherever it is met with, and so that no other ,vill be 
mistaken for it. If it fails of this clearness, it is said to be oùscure. 
This is rather a neat bit of philosophical terminology; yet, since it is 
clearness that tbey "Terc defining, I wish the logicians had made their 
definition a little more plain. Never to fail to recognize an idea, and 
under no circumstances to mistake another for it, let it come in ho,v rec- 
ondite a form it Inay, would indeed imply such prodigious force and 
clearness of intellect as is seldom met with in this ,vorlò. On the oth
r . 
hand, merely to have such an acquaintance with the idea as to have 
become familiar with it, and to have ]ost all hesitancy in recognizing it 
in ordinary cases, hardly seems to deserve the nan1e of clearness of 
apprehension, since after all it only amounts to a subjective- feeling of 
mastery which may be entirely mistaken. I take it, however, that 
,vhen the logicians speak of 
'clearness," they n1ean nothing more 
than such a familiarity ,vith an idea, since they regard tI)e quality as 
but a sman merit, ,vhich needs to be supplemented by another, which 
they call distinctness. 
A distinct idea is defined as one 'which contains nothing ,\\Thich 
is not clear. This is technical language ; by tbe contents of an idea 
logicians understand ,vhatever is contained iu its definition. So tl)at 
an idea is distinctly apprehended, according to them, when we can 
give a precise definition of it, in abstract terms. IIere the profes- 
sionallogicians leave the suhject; and I would not have troubled the 


reader with what they have to say, if it ,vere not suel1 a striking ex- 
aml'le of how they bave been slulllbering through ages of intellect- 
ual activity, listlessly disregarding tbe enginery of nlodern thought, 
and never dre
llning of applying its lessons to tIle inlprO'"Cment of 
logic. It is easy to sho.w that the doctrine that familiar use and 
abstract distinctness lllake the perfection of apprehension has its only 
true place in philosophies which have long been extinct; and it is now 
time to formulate the method of attaining to a more perfect clearness 
of tbought, such as ,ve see and adn1Îre ill the thinkers of our own 
'Vhen Descartes set about the reconstruction of philosopllY, his 
first step was to (theoretically) permit sk{'pticislll anù to discard the 
practice of the school men of looking to authority as tIle ultimate 
source of truth. That done, he sought a more natural fountain of 
true principles, and professed to find it in the hUll1an nlind; thus 
passing, in the directest ,vay, from the lllethod of autllOrity to that üf 
apriority, as described in my first paper. Self-consciol1El1eFS was to 
furnish us .with our fnndan1ental truths, 311(1 to decide what "
agreeable to reason. But since, evidently, not all ideas are true, he 
was led to note, as the first condition of infallibility, that tlH'y must Le 
clear. The distinction het"
een an idea seeming clear and really teing 
so, never occurred to him. Trusting to introspection, as he c1ic1,evcn for 
a knowledge of external things, why should }Ie question its testÏ1nony 
in respect to tIle contents of our own n1Ìnds? But tll(-u, I SU]lpOSe, 
8eeing 111en, .who scenled to be quitQ clear Hnd posith-e, hol<ling oppo- 
site opinions upon fnndanlcntal principlcs, }le ,vas further led to say 
that clearness of ideas is not sufficient, but that thëy need also to be 
distinct, i. e., to haye nothing unclear about thelll. \Vhat he prolJably 
meant by tlli
 (for he did not explain }limself \vith precision) \yas, that 
they lllust sustain the test of dialectical exanlination; that they nlust 
not only seem clear at tIle outset, hut tllat discussion 11ln
t nl
v('r be 
able to bring to light points of ohscurity connected with th<.'Jn. 
Such '\
as the distinction of Descarte
, and one sees that it was 
precisely on the level of his philosopllY, It "as sonle,,-hat develo]Jed 
by Leibnitz. This great and singular gellins ,,"as as relnarkalJle for 
wbat he failed to see as for wh:lt he sa\y. That a piece of IllecJlallism 
could not do work perpetnally without being fl,d ,vilb power in sonle 
form, ,,"as a thing perfectly apparent to J)im; yet he did not undc-r- 
stand that the lnachillery of the mind cnn only transform ]{llowledge, 
but never originate it, unless it be feù with facts of oLscryrrtiol1. lIe 
thus Illissed the most essential poiut of the Cartesian, plâlosophy, 
wJlich is, that to accept propositions ,,
hich scen1 perfeetly eyi..lent to 
lIS is a thing which , whether it l)c loaical or illorrical , we cannot hel l } 
......... ö 
doing. In
tead of rcganling the matter in this way, he 
oup;ht to re- 
duce the first principlcs of sci('ucc to fornnllas which ('annot he denied 
without self-contradiction, and was apparently una,va
'e of the great 


difference h
t'Yeen hi8 position and that of Descartes. So he reverted 
to the old formalities of logic, and, above all, abstract definitions played 
a great part in his philosophy. It was quite natural, therefore, that 
on observing that the method of Descartes labored under the difficulty 
that we may seem to ourselves to have clear apprehensions of ideas 
which in truth are very hazy, no better remedÿ occurred to him than to 
require au ahstract definition of every important term. Accordipglr, 
in adopting the distinction of clear and distinct notions, he described 
the latter quality as the clear apprehension of everything contained 
in the definition; and the books have ever since copied his ,vords. 
There is no danger that his chilnerical scheme will ever again be over,- 
valued. Nothing new can ever be learned by analyzing definitions. 
Nevertheless, our existing beliefs can be set in order by this process, 
and order is an essential e]eluent of intellectual econon1Y, as of every 
other. It may be acknowledged, therefore, that the books are right in 
making familiarity with a notion the first step toward clearness of 
apprehension, and the defining of it the second. But in omitting all 
Inention of any higher perspicuity of thought, they silnply mirror a phi- 
losophy which was exploded a hundred years ago. That much-admired 
"ornament of logic "-the doctrine of clearness and distinctness- 
may be pretty enough, but it is high time to relegate to our cabinet of 
curiosities the antique bijo1.l, and to ,veal' about us sOlnething better 
adapte(l to modern uses. 
The very first lesson that we have a rigbt to demand that logic shall 
teach us is, how to make our ideas clea1'; and a lnost important one it 
is, depreciated only hy minds who stand in need of it. To know ,,
,ve think, to be masters of our own meaning, ,yill n1ake a solid foun- 
dation for great and w'eighty thought. It is most easily learned by 
those whose ideas are Ineagre and restricted; and far happier they 
than such as wallow helplessly in a rich ulud of conceptions. A 
nation, it is true, may, in the course of generations, overcome the dis- 
advantage of an excessi\'e "wealth of language and its natural con- 
conlitant, a vast, unfathomable deep of ideas. "Ve may see it in his- 
tory, slo,vly perfecting its literary forms, sloughing at length its 
metaphysics, and, hy virtue of the untirable patience ,,
hich is often a 
com})ensation, attaining great excellence in every branch ef mental 
acquirement. The page of history is not yet unrolled which is to tell 
us whether such a people will or 'will not in the long-run prevail over 
one ,,
hose ideas (like the ,,"'or<.1s of their language) are fe,,\ but which 
possesses a ,vonc1erful n1astery over those ,,
hich it has. For an 
individual, how"ever, there can be no question that a few ('leal' ideaR 
are worth more than nInny confused ones. A young mnn would 
hardly be persuaded to sacrifice the greater part of his thoughts to 
save the rest; :111(1 the 11luddled head is the least apt to see the neces- 
sity of sueh a sacrifice. 1Iim ,,"e can usually only cOlnmiserate, as a 
perso!l with a congenital defect. Time will help him, but intellectual 


maturity with regard to clearness comes rather late, an unfortunate 
arrangement of K ature, inasmuch as clearness is of less use to a man 
settled in life, whose errors have in great measure had their effect, 
than it would be to one whose path lies before him. It is terrible to 
see how a single unclear idea, a single formula without meaning, lurk- 
ing in a young man's bead, "TiU sometimes act like an obstruction of 
inert matter in an artery, hindering the nutrition of the brain, and 
condemning its victim to pine a,vay in the funness of his intellectual 
vigor and in the midst of intellectual plenty. 1\lany a man has cher- 
ished for years as his hobby some vague shadow of an idea, too mean- 
ingless to be pORitively false; he has, nevertheless, passionately loved 
it, has made it his companion by day and by night, and Las given to 
it his strength and his life, leaving all other occupations for its sake, 
and in short has lived with it and for it, until it has become, as it were, 
flesh of bis flesh and bone of JlÍs bone; and then be has waked np 
some bright morning to find it gone, clean vanished away like the 
beautiful l\lelusina of the fable, and the essence of his life gone with 
it. I IJave myself known sllch a man; and who can tell how many 
histories of circJe-squarers, metaphysicians, astrologers, and what not, 
may not be told in the old German story? 



The principles set forth in tIle first of t]lese pa!)ers lead, at once, 
to a method of reaching a clearness of thought of a far higher gradf' 
than the "distinctness" of the logicians. 'Ve haye there found that 
the action of thought is excited by the irritation of doubt, and ceases 
when belief is attained; so that the production of belief is the sole 
function of tl10ught. All these ,vords, however, are too strong for 
my purpose. It is as if I bad described the phenomena as t}ley ap- 
pear under a mental microscope. Doubt and Belief, as the words are 
comn10nly employed, rf'late to religious or other grave discussions. 
But here I use them to designate the starting of any question, no mat- 
ter how small or how great, and the resolution of it. If, for instance, 
in a horse-car, I pull out my purse and find a five-cent nickel and Dye 
coppers, I decide, while my band is going to the purse, in wllÍch way I 
will pay my fare. To call such a question Doubt, and my decision 
Belief, is certainly to use words very disproportionate to t1le occasion. 
To speak of such a doubt as causing an irritation which needs to be 
appeased, suggests a temper which is uncomfortable to the verge 
of insanity. Yet, looking at the matter minutely, it must be adlnit- 
ted that, if tllere is the least hesitation as to wheth('r I SlU1H puy the 
five coppers or the nickel (as tlJere will be sure to be, unless I act 
from some previously contracted habit in the matter), though irrita- 
tion is too strong a ",.on], yet I am excited to such 
mall mental activ- 
ity as necessary to deciding how I shall act. 1\lost frequently 
VOL. xn.-19 


doubts arise from some indecision, bowever momentary, in our action. 
Sometimes it is not so. I have, for exaluple, to w'ait in a railway- 
station, and to pass tbe time I read the ad vertisenlellts 011 the walls, 
I compare the ad vantages of different trains and different routes which 
I never expect to take, merely fancying myself to be in a state of 
hesitancy, ùecause I am bored with }}aving nothing to trouble me. 
Feigned hesitancy, whether feigned for mere all1USeIDellt or with a 
lofty purpose, plays a great part in the production of scientific in- 
quiry. However the doubt may originate, it stimulates the n1Índ to 
an activity which may be slight or energetic, cahu or turùulent. 
Images pass rapidly through consciousness, one incessantly melting' 
into another, until at last, when all is over-it l11ay be in a fraction of 
a second, in an hour, or after long years-we find ourselyes decided as 
to how we should act under such circun1stances as those 'which occa- 
sioned our hesitation. In other words, we have attained belief. 
In this process 'we observe two so"rts of elements of consciousness, 
the distinction between which may best be luade clear by means 
of an illustration. In a piece of music there are the separate notes, 
and there is the air. A single tone l11ay be prolonged for an hour 
or a day, and it exists as perfectly in each second of that time 
as in the whole taken together; so that, as long 3R it is sounding, 
it nlÎght be present to a sense from which everything in the past 
was as completely aùsent as the future itself. But it is different with 
the air, the performance of which occupies a certain tinIe, during tbe 
portions of which only portions of it are played. It consists in an 
orderliness in the succession of sounds which strikf\ the car at differ- 
ent times; and to perceive it there must be some continuity of con- 
sciousness which makes the events of a lapse of time l)resent to us. 
'Ve certainly only perceive the air by hearing the separate notes; 
yet we cannot be said to directly bear it, for we hear only what is 
present at the instant, and an orderliness of succession cannot exist in 
an instant. These two sorts of objects, 'what we arc inZ1nediately 
conscious of and what we are mediately conscious of, are found in all 
consciousness. Some elements (the sensations) are completely pres- 
ent at every instant so long as they last, while others (like thought) 
are actions having beginning, middle, and end, and consist in a con- 
g ruence in tbe succession of sensations which flow throuo-h the mind. 
They cannot be immediately pre8ent to us, but must co\rer sonle por- 
tion of the past or future. Thought is a thread of melody running 
through the succession of our sensations. 
" "T e m
y add that just as a piece of mnsic may be written in 
parts, each part having its own air, so various systems of relation- 
ship of succession subsist together between the same sensations. 
These different systems are distinguished by having different motives, 
ideas, or functions. Thought is only one such 
ystem, for its sole 
motive, idea, and function, is to produce belief, and 'whatever does 


not concern that purpose belongs to some other system of relations. 
The action of thiuking may incidentally have other results; it may 
serve to amuse us, for example, and among dildtanti it is not rare 
to find those who ha\'e so perverted thought to the purposes of pleas- 
ure that it seems to ",ex them to think that the questions upon which 
they delight to exercise it may ever get finally settled; and a positive 
discovery which takes a favorite subject out of the arena of literary 
debate is met with ill-concealed dislike. This disposition is tbe very 
debauchery of thought. But the soul and meaning of thought, ab- 
stracted fronl the other elements which accompany it, though it may 
be voluntarily thwarted, can never be made to direct itself to,vard 
anything but the production of belief. Thought in action has for its 
only possible motive the attainment of thought at rest; and what- 
ever does not refer to belief is no part of the thought itself. 
And what, then, is belief? It is the demi-cadence which closes a 
musical phrase in the synlphony of our intellectual life. We have 

een that it has just three properties: First, it is something that we 
are aware of; second, it appeases the irritation of doubt; and, tbird, 
it involves the establishment in our nature of a rule of action, or, say 
for short, a !tabit. As it appeases tbe irritation of doubt, which is the 
motive for thinking, thought reIa.xes, and comes to rest for a moment 
'wben belief is reached. But, since belief is a rule for action, tbe 
application of which involves further doubt and further thought, at 
the same tin1e that it is a stopping-place, it is also a new starting- 
place for thought. That is why I have permitted myself to call it 
thought at rest, although thought is essentially an action. The final 
upshot of thinking is the exercise of yoIition, and of this thought no 
longer forms a part; but belief is only a stadium of action, 
an effect upon our nature due to thought, which will influence future 
The essence of belief is the estab1ishment of a babit, and different 
lJeliefs are distinguif\hed by the different modes of action to which 
they give rise. If beliefs do not differ in this respect, if tbey appease 
the same doubt by producing the same rule of action, then no mere 
differences in the manner of consciousness of them can make them 
different beliefs, any more than playing a tune in different keys is 
v1aying different tnnes. Imaginary distinctions are often drawn 
between beliefs 'v hich differ only iu their mode of expression ;-the 
wrangling which ensues is real enough, however. To believe that any 
objects are arranged as in Fig. 1, and to believe that they are arranged 
in Fig. 2, are one and the same belief; yet it is conceivable that a man 
should assert one proposition and deny the other. Snch false dis- 
tinctions do as much harm as the confusion of beliefs really different, 
and are alnong the pitfalls of which ,,"e ought constantly to beware, 
especially when w"e are upon metaphysical ground. One singular 
deception of this sort, which often occurs, is to mistake the sensation 


produced by onr own unclearness of thought for a character of t}Je 
object we are thinking. Instead. of perceiving that the obscurity is 
purely subjective, we fancy that we contemplate a qua1ity of the 
object which is essentially mysterious; and if our conception be after- 
,yard presented to us in a clear form ,,
e do not recognize it as the 
same, oWIng to the absence of the feeling of unintelligibility. So 

. . . . . .. 
. . . . . . . .. 0 
. . . . 
. . . . . . . . . , . 
. . . . 
, . 
. . . . . . . . . . 
. .. . . . 
. . 
. . . . . . .. . . .. 
. . . 
. . 
. . . . 
. . . . . . . . . . 
. .. .. 
. . .. . 
. . . 
Þ .11 . . . , .. 
.. .. 
. "" , 
. . . . . . .. . . 
. , . . .. . .. 
. . 
. . . . . 
. . ., . , , . 
, .. 
, ... . , . . . 
. . , 
. .. 
 . . . . 
FIG. 1. FIG. 2. 

long as this deception lasts, it obviously puts an impassable barrier 
in the way of perspicuous thinking; so that it equally interests the 
opponents of rational thought to l)erpetuate it, and its adherents to 
guard against it. 
Another such deception is to mistake a mere difference in the 
grammatical construction of t\VO words for a distinction bet"
een the 
ideas they express. 'In this pedantic age, when the general mob of 
writers attend so much more to \\
ords than to things, this error is 
COllllllon enough. \Vhen I just said that thought is an actio'll, and 
that it consists in a relat'ion, although a person performs an action 
but not a relation, which can only be the result of an action, yet 
there was no inconsistency in 'what I said, but only a grammatical 
From all these sophisms we shall be perfectly safe so long as ,ve 
reflect that the whole function of thought is to produce habits of ac- 
tion; and that whatever there is connected with a thought, but irrele- 
vant to its purpose, is an accretion to it, but no part of it. If there 
be a unity among our sensations which has no reference to how we 
shall act on a given occasion, as .when ,ye listen to a piece of music, 
why \ve do not call that thinking. To develop its meaning, we have, 
therefore, simply to determine what habits it produces, for what a 
thing lneans is simply 'what habits it involyes. N O'\V, the identity of 
a habit depends on how it might lead us to act, not merely under such 
circumstances as are likely to arise, but under such as might possibly 


occur, no matter how improbable they may be. What the habit is 
depends on when and how it causes us to act. As for the 'when, every 
stimulus to action is derived from perception; as for the how, every 
purpose of action is to produce some sensible result. Thus, we come 
down to what is tangible and practical, as the root of every real dis- 
tinction of thought, no matter how f'ubtile it may be; and there is no 
distinction of meaning so fine as to consist in anyt.hing but a possible 
difference of practice. 
To see what this principle leads to, consider in tbe light of it such 
a doctrine as that of transubstantiation. The Protestant churcbes 
generally hold that the elements of the sacrament are flesh and blood 
only in a tropical sense; they nourish our souls as meat and the juice 
of it ,vould our bodies. But the Catholics maintain that they are 
literally just that; although they possess all tbe sensible qualities of 
,vafer-cakes and diluted wine. But we can have no conception of 
wine except what may enter into a belief, eitller- 
1. That this, that, or the other, is wine; or, 
2. That wine l)ossesHes certain propertieH. 
Such beliefs are nothing but self-notifications that ,,'e should, upon 
occasion, act in regard to snch things as we believe to be wine accord- 
ing to the qualities which we believe wine to possess. 
l__'he occasion 
of such action would be some sensible perception, thë motive of it to 
produce some sensible result. Thus our action has exclusive reference 
to what affects the senses, our habit has the same bearing as our ac- 
tion, our belief the same as our habit, our conception the same as our 
belief; and we can conRequently mean notlling by wine but what has 
certain effects, direct or indirect, upon our senses; and to talk of 
something as l)aving all the sensible characters of ,vine, yet being in 
reality blood, is senseless jargon. N ow, it is not my object to pursue 
the theological question; and ha,?íng used it as a logical example I 
drop it, without caring to anticipate the theologian's reply. I only 
desire to point out how impossible it is that ,ve should have au 
idea in our minds which relates to anything but conceived sensible 
effects of things. Our idea of anything is our idc
 of its 
effects; and if we fancy that we 11ave any other 'we deceive ourselves, 
ana mistake a mere sensation accompanying the thought for a part of 
the thought itself. It is absurd to say that thought has any llleaning 
unrelated to its only function. It is foolish for Catholics and Protes- 
tants to fancy thelnselves in disagreement about the elen1ents of the 
sacrament , if the y ao'r<
e in reO'ard to all their sensible effects, here or 
ð 0 
It appears, then, that the rule for attflining the third grade of 
clearness of apprehension is as follows: Consider ,,-hat effects, which 
might conceivably lwve practical hearings, ,ve conceive tl1e object of 
onr conception to have. Then, our conception of these effects is the 
whçle of our conception of the o1)j('ct. 


Let us illustrate this rule by SOlne examples; and, to begin with 
the simplest one possible, let us ask \vhat we mean by calling a thing 
!-tard. Evidently that it will not be scratched by many other sub- 
stances. The whole conception of this quality, as of every other, lies 
in its conc
iYed effects. There is absolutely no difference between a 
hard thing and a soft thing so long as they are not brought to the 
test. Suppose, then, that a diamond could be crystallized in the midst 
of a cushion of soft cotton, and should relnain there until it ,vas finally 
burned up. Would it be false to say that tbat diamond was soft? 
This seems a foolish question, and would be so, in fact, except in the 
realm of logic. There such questions are often of the greatest utility 
as serving to bring logical principles into sharper relief than real dis- 
cussions ever could. In studying logic we must not put them aside 
with hasty answers, but must consider them with attentive care, in 
order to make out Lhe l)ripcil)les involved. We may, in tbe present 
case, modify our question, and ask what prevents us from saying that 
all hard bodies remain perfectly soft until they are touched, .when 
their hardness increases with the l)ressure until they are scratched. 
Reflection will show that the reply is this: there would be no falsity 
in such modes of speech. They would involve a modification of our 
present usage of speech with regard to tbe words hard and soft, but 
not of their meanings. For they represent no fact to be different 
from what it is; only they i
volve arrangements of facts which "Tould 
be exceedingly maladroit. This leads us to remark that the question 
of what would occur under circumstances which do not actually arise 
is not a question of fact, but only of the most l)erspicnous arrange- 
ment of them. For example, the qnestion of free-will and fate in its 
simplest form, stripped of verbiage, is something like this: I have 
done something of which I am ashamed; could I, by an effort of the 
will, have resisted the temptation, and done otherwise? The philo- 
sophical reply is, that tbis is not a question of fact, but only of the 
arrangement of facts. Arranging them so as to exhibit 

hat is par- 
ticularly pertinent to my. question-namely, that I ought to blame 
myself for having done wrong-it is perfectly true to say that, if I lUld 
willed to do otherwise than I did, I should have done otherwise. On 
the other hand, arranging the facts so as to exhibit another important 
consideration, it is equally true that, when a ten1ptation has once been 
allow(Jd to work, it will, if it has a certain force, In'oduce its effect, let 
me struggle how I may. There is no objection to a contradiction in 
what would result from a false supposition. The reductio ad absur- 
dUln consists in showing that contradictory results ,vonld {onow fro In 
a hypothesis which is consequently judged to be false. l\Iany questions 
are involved in the free-will discw;;sion, aIle\. I 
un far from desiring to 
say that both sides are equally right. On the contrary; I an1 of opinion 

CE. 295 

that one side denies important facts, and that the other does not. But 
what I do say is, that the above single question was the origin of the 
,vhole doubt; that, had it not been fen: this question, the controversy 
would never bave ariscn; anc1 that this question is perfectly solved in 
the manncr which I have indicated. 
Let us next seek a clear idea of 'Veight. This is another very easy 
case. To say that a body is heavy means simply that, in the aùsence 
of opposing forcc, it will fall. This (neglecting certain specifications 
of how it wi1l1all, etc., ,vbich exist in the mind of the physicist who 
uses the word) is evidently tbe whole conception of weight. It is a 
fair question whether SOlne particular facts may not account for grav- 
ity; but what we nlean by the force itself is completely involved in 
its effects. 
This leads us to undertake an account of tbe idea of Force in gen- 
eral. This is the great conception which, developed in the early part 
of the seventeenth century from the rude idea of a cause, and C011- 
stantly improved upon since, has shown us bow to explain aU the 
changes of motion which bodies experienee, and how to think about 
all physical phenomena; which has given birth to modern sciencl>, 
and changed the face of the globe; and which, aside from its nlorc 
special uses, has played a principal part in directing the course of mod- 
ern thought, and in furthering modern social development. It is, 
therefore, "
orth some pains to comprehend it. According to our rule, 
'we must begin by asking what is the ilnlnediate use of thinking aboHt 
force; and the answer is, tbat "Te thus account for changes of motion. 
If bûc1ies were left to themselves, witl]out the intervention of forces, 
every motion would continue uncbanged both in velocity and ill 
direction. Furthermore, c}1ange of motion never takes place abrupt- 
ly; if its direction is changed, it is always through a curve without 
angles; if its velocity alters, it is by degrees. The gradual changes 
which are constantly taking place are conceived by geometers to be 
compounded together according to the rules of the parallelogram of 
forces. If the reader does not already kno\v ,vnat this is, be will find 
it, I hope, to his advantage to endeavor to follow the following ex- 
J}lanation; but if mathematics are insupportable to him, pray let hinI 

kip three paragraphs rather than tbat we should part company here. 
A path is a line whose beginning and end are distinguished. Two 
patl)s are considered to be equivalent, ,yhich, beginning at the Ban]ü 
point, lead to the same point. Thus the two paths, ABC .D E and 
A F G II E, are equivalent. . Paths which do not begin at the same 
point are considered to be equÍ\'alent, provided that, on moving either 
of them ,vithout turning it, Inlt keeping it alway
 paralld to its origi- 
nal})osition, when its beginning coincides with that of the other padl, 
the ends alfo coinciòe. PathB are considered as geometrically added 
toget1)cr, ,vhcn one bcgins 'where the otber ena
; thus tne p:tth A E 
is conceived to be a sum of .L1 B, B 0, 0 .1), and .D E. In the paral- 


lelogram of Fig. 4 the diagonal A G is the sum of A Band B 0/ 
or, since A .D is geometrically equivalent to B G,....1 G is the geomet- 
rical sum of A B and A E. 


FIG. 3. 

FIG. 4. 

All this is purely conventional. It simply amounts to this: that 
we choose to call paths having the relations I bave described equal or 
added. But, though it is a convention, it is a conventi
n 'with a good 
reason. The rule for geometrical addition may be applied not only to 
paths, but to any other things ,vhich can be represented by paths. 
N ow, as a path is determined by the varying direction and distance 
of the point 'which moves over it from the starting-point, it follows 
that anything which from its beginning to its end is determined by a 
varying direction and a varying magnitude is capable of being repre- 
sented by a line. Accordingly, velocit'ies may be relJresentec1 by lines, 
for they have only directions and rates. The same thing is true of 
accelerations, or changes of velocities. This is evident enough in the 
case of velocities; and it becomes evident for accelerations if ,ve con- 
sider that precisely ,,'hat velocities are to positions-namely, states 
of change of them,-that accelerations are to velocities. 
.The so-called" parallelogram of forces" is sÎ1nply a rnle for com- 
pounding accelerations. The rule is, to represent the accelerations by 
paths, and then to geometrically add the paths. The geometers, how- 
ever, not only use the" parallelogram of forces" to compound differ- 
ent acc3lerations, but also to 1'eso1\'e one acceleration into a sum of 
several. Let.Ll B (Fig. 5) be the path whicb represents a certain 
acceler2..tion-say, snch a change in 
the nlotion of a body tbat at the 
end of one secon(l the body,vilJ, 
under the influence of that change, 
B be in a position different from ,vbat 
it would have had if its motion 
bad continued unchanged such that 
a path eqnhralent to A B would 
lead from the latter position to the 
FIG. 5. former. This acceleratio
 may be 
considered as the sum of the accelerations represented by A G and 
G B. It may also be considered as the sum of the very different ac- 
celerations represented by A D and D B, ,V]1ere A IJ is almost tbe 
opposite of A O. And it is clear that there is an immense variety of 




ways in which .A B might be resolved into the sum of t,vo accelera- 
After this tedious explanation, ,vhich I hope, in view of tbe ex- 
traordinary interest of the conception of force, may not have exhaust- 
ed the reader's patience, we are prepared at last to state the grand 
fact which this conception embodies. This fact is tbat if the actual 
changes of motion which the different particles of bodies experience 
are each resolved in its appropriate way, each component accelera- 
tion is precisely such as is prescribed by a certain law of Nature, 
according to which bodies in the relative positions which tbe bod- 
ies in question actually have at the moment/ always receive certain 
accelerations, which, being cOlnpounded by geometrical addition, give 
the acceleration which the body actually experiences. 
This is the only fact which the idea of force represents, and who- 
ever ,viII take the trouble clearly to avprehend wlJat this fact is, per- 
fectly cOlnprehends what force is. 'Yhether ,ve ought to say that a 
force is an acceleration, or tbat it causes an acceleration, is a mere 
question of propriety of language, which has no more to do \vith our 
real meaning than the difference between the French idiom "it fait 
fJ"oìd" and its English equivalent "It is cold." Yet it is surprising 
to see ho,v this simple affair has muddled men's minds. In how many 
profound treatises is not force spoken of as a "mysterious entity," 
,vhich seems to be only a way of confessing that the author despairs 
of eyer getting a clear notion of what the word means! In a recent 
admired ,york on" Analytic l\lechanics" it is stated that ,ve under- 
stånd precisely the effect of force, but what force itself is we do not 
understand! This is simply a self-contradiction. The idea which the 
word force excites in our minds has no other function than to affect 
our actions, and these actions can have no reference to force otber- 
,vise than through its effects. Consequently, if ,ve know what tbe 
effects of force are, .we are acquainted with every fact ,vhich is implied 
in saying that a force exists, and there is nothing more to know. The 
truth is, there is some vague notion afloat that a question may mean 
something which the n1ind cannot conceive; and when some hair- 
splitting philosophers have been confronted with the absurdity of 

uch a view, they have invented an empty distinction between posi- 
tive and negative conceptions, in the attempt to give their non-idea 
a form not obviously nonsensical. The nullity of it is sufficiently plain 
from the considerations given a few pages back; and, apart from 
those considerations, the quibb1ing character of the distinction nlust 
have struck every mind accustomed to real thinking. 

Let us now approach tbe subject of logic, and consider a concep- 
tion which particularly concerns it, that of 'reality. Taking clcarne8s 
1 Possibly the velocities also haye to be taken into account. 


in the sense of :f:1miliarity, no idea could be clearer than this. Every 
child uses it with perfect confiøence, never dreaming that he does not 
understand it. As for clearness in its second grade, however, it would 
probably puzzle most n1en, even among those of a reflective turn of 
mind, to give an abstract definition of the real. Yet such a definition 
nlay perhaps be reached by considering the points of difference be- 
t,veen reality and its opposite, fiction. A figment is a product of 
some body's ilnagination; it has such characters as his thought im- 
presses upon it. That whose characters are independent of how JOu or 
I think is an external reality. There are, however, phenomena "ithin 
our own minds, dependent upon our thought, which are at the same 
real in the sense tllat we really think them. But though their char- 
acters depend on how we think, they do not depend on what ".e think 
those characters to be. Thus, a dream has a real existence as a men- 
tal phenomenon, if somebody has really dreamt it; that he dreamt so 
and so, does not depend on what anybody thinks was dreamt, but is 
cOll1pletely independent of all opinion on the subject. On the otheF 
hand, considering, not the fact of dreaming, but the tl1Ïng dreamt, it 
retains its peculiarities by virtue of no other fact than that it 'was 
dreamt to possess them. Thus we may define the real as that ,vhose 
characters are independent of \vhat anybody Inay think them to be. 
But, however satisfactory such a definition may be found, it 'would 
be a great Inistake to suppose that it makes tbe idea of reality per- 
fectly cle3r. Here, then, let us apply our rules. According to them, 
reality, like every other quality, consists in the peculiar sensible effects 
which things partaking of it produce. The only effect ,vhich real 
things have is to cause belief, for all the sensations which they excite 
emerge into consciousness in the form of beliefs. The question there- 
fore is, ho,v is true belief (or belief in the real) distinguished from 
false Lelief (or belief in fiction). Now, as we have seen in the former 
paper, the ideas of truth and falsehood, in their full development, ap- 
pertain exclusively to the scientific method of settling opinion. A 
person who arbitrarily chooses the propositions which he will adopt 
can use the word truth only to emphasize the expression of his deter- 
Inination to hold on to his choice. Of course, the method of tenacity 
· never prevailed exclusively; reason is too natural to men for that. 
Bnt in the literature of the dark ages we find some fine examples of it. 
When Scotus Erigena is commenting upon a poetical passage in 'which 
hellebore is spoken of as having caused the death of Socrates, he does 
not hesitate to infornl the inquiring reader that llelleborus and Soc- 
rates were two eminent Greek philosophers, and tl1at the latter having 
been overCOlne in argument by the former took the matter to heart 
and died of it! What sort of an idea of truth could a nlan llave who 
could adopt and teach, without the qualification of a perhaps, an opin- 
ion taken so entirely at random? The real spirit of Socrates, who I 
hope ,vould have been delighted to have been "overcome in argu- 


ment," because he would have learned something by it, is in curious 
contrast ,vith the naïve iùea of the glossist, for 'whou} ùiEcussion ,,'ould 
seenl to have been simnly a struggle. When l)hilosophy began to 
awake from its long slumber, and before theology completely dnmi- 
nated it, the practice seems to have been for each professor to seize 
upon any philosophical position he found unoccupied and 'which seemed 
a strong one, to intrench .hhnself in it, and to sally forth fro In time to 
tÏIne to give battle to the others. Thus, even the scanty records we 
possess oftLose disputes enable us to make out a dozen or more opin- 
ions held by different teachers at one time concerning the question of 
1l0lninalism and realisln. Read the opening part of the "Historia 
itatum" of Abelard, who ,vas certainly as philosophical as any 
of his conten1poraries, and see the spirit of cOll1bat which it breatùes. 
For him, the truth is simply his particular strol}ghold. When the 
method of authority prevailed, the truth meant little more than t})e 
Catholic faith. All the efforts of the scholastic doctors 
ne directed 
towa}'d harmonizing their faith in Aristotle :Ind their faith in tho 
Church, and one lllay search their ponderous folios through without 
finding an argument which goes any further. It is noticeable that 
,vhere different faiths flourish side by side, renegades are looked upon 
with contelnpt even by the party whose belief they adopt; so com- 
pletely has the idea of loyalty replaced that of truth-seeking. S:nce 
the time of Descartes, the defect in tbe conception of truth has been 
Jess apparent. Still, it will sometimes strike a scientific man that the 
philosophers have be ell less intent on finding out what the facts are, 
than on inquiring what belief is most in harmony with their system. 
It is hard to convince a follower of the a priori method by adducing 
facts; 1)ut sho'w him that an opinion he is defending is inconsistent 
w-ith what he has laid do,,"'n else,vhere, and be win be very apt to re- 
tract it. These minds do not seem to believe that disputation is ever 
to cease; they seem to think that the opinion ,,? hich is natural for one 
man is not so for another, and that belief wilJ, consequently, never be 
settled. In contenting themselves with fixing their own opinions by 
a metl)od which would lead anotl)er man to a different resuJt, they be- 
tray their feeble hold of the conception of what truth is. 
On the other hand, all the fol1o"rets of science are fully persuaded 
that the })rocesses of investigation, if only l)u
hed far enough, will 
give one certain solution to every question to which they can be ap- 
plied. One man may investigate the velocity of light by studying 
the transits of V" enus and the aberration of the stars; another by the 
oppositions of 1\13rs and tbe eclipses of Jupiter's satellite
; a third by 
the method of Fizeau; a fourth by t}lat of Foucault; a fifth by t11e 
motions of the curves of Lissajonx; a sixth, a sevent}l, ::in eightJ}, and 
a ninth, nuty follo,v the different llwthods of cOInparing the mea
of statical and dynan1Ïcal electricity. They l1UlY at first obtain ilif:' 
fèrent results, but, as each perfects his lllethod and his processes, the 


results will move steadily together toward a destined centre. So ,vith 
all scientific research. Different minds may set out with the most 
antagonistic views, but the progress of investigation carries them by 
a force outside of themselves to one and the same conclusion. This 
activity of thought by which we are carried, not where we wish, but 
to a foreordained goal, is like tbe operation of destiny. X 0 modifica- 
tion of the point of vie\v taken, no selection of other facts for study, 
no natural bent of mind even, can enable a man to escape the predes- 
tinate opinion. This great la w is embodied in the c0nception of truth 
and reality. The opinion \vhich is fated 1 to be ultimately agreed to 
by all ,vho investigate, is ,vbat we Illean by the truth, and the ohject 
represcnted in this opinion is the real. That is the way I would ex- 
plain reality. 
But it may be said that this view is directly opposed to the abstract 
definition which we have given of reality, inasmuch as it makes the 
characters of the real to depend on what is ultimately thought about 
them. But the answer to this is that, on the one hand, reality is inde- 
pendent, not necessarily of thought in general, but only of \vhat you 
or I or any finite number of men may think about it; and that, on the 
other hand, though the object of the final opinion depends on what 
that opinion is, yet ,,
hat that opinion is does not depend on what you 
or I or any man thinks. Our perversity and that of others may in- 
definitely postpone the settlement of opinion; it might even conceiv- 
ably cause an arbitrary proposition to be universally accepted as long 
as the hUlnan race should last. Yet even that would not change the 
nature of the belief, which alone could be the result of investigation 
carried sufficiently far; and if, after the extinction of our race, 
another should arise with faculties and disposition for in\
that true olJinion must be the one which tbey \vould ultimately come 
to. " Truth crushed to earth shall rise again," and the opinion which 
\vould fina1Jy result from investigation does not depend on how any-. 
body may actually think. But the reality of that \vhieh is real does. 
depend on the real fact that investigation is destined to lead, at last, 
if continued long enough, to a belief in it. 
BItt I nlay be asked what I have to say to all the minute facts of 
history, forgotten never to be recovered, to the lost books of the an- 
cients, to the buried secrets. 

" Full many a gem of purest ray serene 
The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear; 
Full many a flower is born to b1ush unseen, 
And waste its sweetnes.3 on tbe desert air." 

Do these things not really exist because t1ley are }}opelessly beyond 
1 Fate means merely that which is sure to come true, and can nohow be avoided. It 
is a superstition to suppose that a certa.Ïn sort of events are ever fated, and it is another 
to suppose that the word fate can never be freed from its superstitious taint. 'Ve are 
all fated to die. 


the reach of our knowledge? And then, after the universe is dead 
(according to the l)rediction of some scientists), and all life Las ceased 
forever, will not the shock of atoms continue though there will be DO 
n1ind to know it? To this I reply that, though in no possible state of 
knowledge can any number be great enough to express the I'elation 
between the amount of what rests unknown to the amount of the 
known, yet it is unphilosophical to suppose that, with regard to any 
given question (which has any clear meaning), investigation ,vould 
not bring forth a solution of it, if it were carried far enong}}. Who 
would have said, a fe\v years ago, that we could ever kno,y of what 
substances stars are made whose light may have been longer in reach- 
ing us than the human race has existed? '\Tho cnn be sure of what 
we sl}all not know in a few l1undrec1 years? Who can guess what 
would be the result of continuing the pursuit of science for ten thou- 
sand years, with the activity of the last hundred? And if it ,vere to 
go on for a nlillion, or a billion, or any number of years you please, 
how is it possible to say that there is any question 'which might not 
ultimately be solved? 
But it may be objected, "Why make so much of these ren10te con- 
siderations, especially when it is your principle that only practical 
distinctions have a meaning? " "Ten, I must confess tbat it makes 
very little difference 'whether we say that a stone on the bottom of the 
ocean, in complete darkness, is brilliant or not-that is to say, that it 
probably makes no difference, remembering ahvays that tlJat stone 
may be fished up to-morrow. But that there are gems at the bottom 
of the sea, flowers in the untraveled desert, etc., are propositions 
which, like that about a diamond being hard ,vhen it is not })resserl, 
concern much more the arrangelnent of our language Ulan they do the 
meaning of our ideas. 
It seems to me, however, that ,ve have, by the application of our 
rule, reached so clear an apprehension of what we mean by realitJ', 
ann. of the fact which the idea rests on, that we should not, perllaps, 
be making a pretension so presumptuous as it would be Ringular, if 
we ,,,ere to offer a metaphysical theory of existence for uniyersal 
accept3 nee among those "Tho employ the scientific method of fixing 
be1ief. IIowever, as metaphysics is a subject much more curious tba11 
useful the knowledO'e of wllich like that of a sunken reef, Rerves 
, 0 , 
chiefly to enable us to keep clear of it, I win not trouhle t1}e reader ,vith 
any more Ontology at thi8 moment. I }l3,Ve already been led nll1ch fur- 
tber into that path than I should have desh'ed; and I llaye given the 
reader such a dose of nlathelnatics, psychology, and all that is 1110st 
ahstruse, that I fear he may alrearly have left n1e, and tbat .what I am 
now wTiting is for the compositor and proof-reader exclusiycly. I 
trusted to the importance of the subject. There is no royal road to 
logic, and really valuable ideas can only he had at the price of close 
attention. But I know that in the matter of ideas the public pI'efer 


the cheap and nasty; and in my next paper I am going to return to 
the easily intelligible, and not wander from it again. The reader who 
has been at the pains of wading through this month's paper, shall be 
reward cd in the next one hy seeing how beautifully what has bccn 
developed in this tedious way can be applied to the ascertainment of 
tbe rules of scientific reasoning. 
'Ve have, hitherto, not crossed the threshold of scientific logic. 
It is certainly important to know ho\v to make our i.deas clear, but 
they may be ever so clear without being true. IIow to mnke them 
80, we have next to study. Ho\v to give birth to those vital and pro- 
creatiye ideas which multiply into a thousand forms and diffuse thc'm- 
selves every\vhere, advancing civilization and making the dignity of 
n1an, is an art not yet reduced to rules, but of the secret of ,vhich the 
history of science affords some hints. 




I N the elcgance and variety of their colors, in the splendor and 
- brilliancy of the tints with which they have been adorned by 
Nature, marine anilnals have no reason to envy the inhabitants of 
air; and if in the tropical regions of Africa and America the forests 
are embellished. by the presence of innumerable birds of gorgeous 
plumage, the Indian Ocean and the Antilles Sea possess countless 
legions of fishes that are more beautiful still, whose scales flash with 
all the colors of the metals and precious stones, wJÜle a thousand 
variecl ornamentations are traced in vivid colors on the general ton
The animals kno-\vn to our colonists on the Antilles Islands under 
the names of IJen
oiselles, p01.tugais, Banclo'lllières, are, in this re- 
spect, not inferior to the most richly-adorned of fishes. Accustomed 
to keep near the shore, amid the rocks and in shallow waters, swim- 
ming swiftly and ever nloving, they are constantly reflecting the 
splendid colors w'ith which they are decorated. Rose-color, purpl
azure, velvety-black, milk-white, are gorgeously displayed on their 
surface, in the form of bands, streaks, curved lines running in various 
directions, rings, ocenated spots. These colors stand out boldly on 
the surface of the body, w'hich furnishes a background of the richest 
nacreous tints of gold and silver, or of polished steel. 
In all of these fishes the body is compressed, and the vertical fins 
are covered 'with scales, .whence the nan1e Squarnipinnes, by which 
they are known to naturalists. The shape of the body is sometimes 
peculiar, and the buffalo or cow fish of the l\Ialays is one of tbe most 
1 Translated from the French, by J. Fitzgerald, A. M. 


3 0 3 

curious of the class, as ,veIl by reason of the protuberance and tbe 
sharp, recurved horns of the head, and the compressed and unequal 
spines of tbe back, as on account of the broad, yellow, green, and 
brown zebraizations 'which adorn the body. The jaws sometimes 
are armed ,vith n1Ïnute teeth 1ike the nap of velvet, as in the archer- 
fish; sOlnetimes these teeth are superseded by fine, compact, silky 
filaments, performing the same functions as the barbs of the whale-- 
they serve to strain the water and to retain the little allin1als on 'which 
the fish preys. The fishes of this class are the Cltætodon, with its rich 
colors; the IIolacanthus, which is perhaps the most beautiful member 
of the family; the Pomacctntl
us, known to our French colonists as Le 
Portugais (the Portuguese); and sundry others. 
Of tbe Ohætodons, some have the muzzle long and slender, formed 
ùy the bones of the jaw, ,vhich are united along nearly their entire 
length by a membrane, so that the mouth is simply an horizontal slit 
at the extremity of this cylinder, or elongated cone. The vertical 
diameter of the body is very great, and the upright fin of the back is 
high and scaly; the tail is cut square; the l)rQfile, which is concave 
in front of the eyes, rises almost vertical1y, so tbat the snout is about 
one-fourth the depth of the head.' These fishes, known under tþe 
name of Ghelmons, inhabit the Indian Ocean; naturalists distingui8h 
t \VO species, the beaked Ohebnon and the long- bf\aked Olleln
on (see 
the latter in Fig. 1). These species differ from each other not only in 
length of beak, but also in the nrrangelnent of the colors which adorn 

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In the beaked Cltel1non the body is greenish and iridescent; the 
fins are 
reen, 'with reflection of azure; :1 black spot, surroundeù by 
a pearl-white circle, is seen on the dorsal fin, in length about one- 
third that of the soft rays; five vertical stripes of azure-color, and 


bordered ,vith a nacreous wbite line, adorn the body; one of these 
stripes crosses the eye obliquely; a second one, bisecting the nape of 
the neck, extends to the ventral fins; the next two mark tbe flanks, 
and the posterior stripe bisects the root of the caudal fin. 
The long-beaked Chelmon's body is yellow. Instead of the 
stripe crossing the eye, seen in the other species, 'we find on the ante- 
rior portion of the body a broad, blackish spot, triangular in shape, 
and tern1Ïnating in a point on the snout. This spot is bordered by a 
nacreous white stripe; tbe forehead is of azure tint, with a shade of 
sea-green; the eye is of a pure rose-color; a narrow stripe of black 
adorns the margin of tbe fins, which themselves are of mauve-coI8r; 
on the posterior part of the anal fin, near its edge, is seen a deep-black 
spot, encircled by a line of pearly white. 
The Cheln
on, particularly tbe beaked Chelmon, has been de- 
scribed by Schlosser, under tbe title of Archer-fish, in the "Philo- 
sophical Transactions." The animal is said to obtain its food in a 
peculiar way, and bence the names given to it by Schlosser (Jaculator) 
and by the Dutch colonists of the East Indies (Spuytvisch, pump-fish 
or spitting-fisb). 
Lacépède, following the narratives of travelers, tells us that the 
long-beaked Chætoclon "usually keeps near to the mouths of rivers, 
and especially frequents places where the water is not deep. It feeds 
on insects, especially such as Jive on the lnarine plants which rise 
above the surface of the sea. In taking them it resorts to a note,vor- 
thy manæuvre, ,vhich it is enaùled to perform by the very elongated 
form of tl'le snout; and a similar sort of manæuvre is perforn1ed by 
the Sparus insidator, the bellows-chæ'todon, and other fishes, ,vith 
very long, very narrow, and nearly cylindrical beak, like that of the 
animal we are now describing. 'Vhen the archer espies an insect 
'which it wishes to seize, but ,vbich is flying too high aboye the sur- 
face to be captured by leaping out of the water, it approaches as near . 
as possible to its prey, then it fills its mouth-ca ,,'ity with water, shuts 
its gill-openings, suddenly compresses its little slit of a mouth, and, 
ejecting rapidly the water through the very narrow tube which forms 
its snout, squirts it often to the distance of two metres, and that with 
such force that the insect is stunned and falls into the sea. The per- 
formance is so amusing that rich people throughout the greater part 
of the East Indies keep long-beaked Ghætodons in large vessels." 
Bloch, in his "Hh;tory of Fishes," which was published at the 
close of the last century, tells us, on the authority of l\Iynheer Hom- 
mel, inspector of the Batavia Hospital, that the bandoulière or beaked 
Ohætodon has a very singular .way of procuring food. "Observe," 
says Bloch, "how this fish ensnares the flies it discovers on the marine 
plants which project above the water. It approaches ,vithin four to 
six feet of the insect, and then squirts water upon it 'with snch force 
that it never fails to bring it down and make it its prey." l\Iynheer 


3 0 5 

IIommel himself made the following experiluent: He had a fe,v of 
these fishes placed in a large vessel containing sea-water. When 
they had become accustomed to this prison, lIe ran a pin through a 
fly, and made it fast to one side of th
 vessel. lIe then was so for- 
tunate as to see" these fishes vying with one another in their efforts 
to seize the fly, and continually t:;quirting little drops of water, with- 
out ever missing their aim." 
'Ve owe it to truth to add that Blecker, who resided so long in 
the Dutch Indies, and who is perfectly familiar ,vith the ichthyo- 
logical fauna of that region, not only finds in the habits of the ban- 
doulière no confirmation of tbis singular method of catching insects, 
but he never even heard it mentioned during his sojourn at Ba- 
tavia. "Certain it is," adds he," that at Batavia this species in- 
habits only the waters of the reefs of the little islands in tbe bay, an(l 
never visits the swampy and sandy beach in the vicinity of the capi- 
tal, or the mouths of the rivers." 
A fish belonging to the s:llne family-Squamipinnes-but classed 
in another group, has likewise received from Schlosser and Pallas 
the name of Archer. 
Four species, inhabiting the ,vaters of Polynesia and the Indian 
Archipelago, constitute this group of the Archers, or 1bxotæ. Instead 
of being more or less oval in shape, as is the case with the Ohætodo'ns, 
the body is here elongated, the line of. the back being nearly straight, 
while that of the belly is curved, so that the fish assumes a triangu- 




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FIG. 2, 

lar shape. The distinguishing feature of these fishes is the backward 
position of the dorsal fin, which, relegated to the posterior part of tho 
body, is armed ,vith only three or four Fpincs (Fig. 2). The head, 
IJ'ing in the Rame plane ,vith the line of the back, is pointed; the eye 
VOL. XII.-20 


iB large, and the mouth opens wiele. The brilliant colors of the Cltæ- 
todons, properly so called, are here "\'vanting; the body is olive-bro,vn 
or yellow, and bears broad, round, or oblong spot
, or vertical stripes 
of black color; the eye is rose-color and brilliant; the belly, silvery- 
According to Cuvier and Valencienne, "though the mouth of thi
fish differs immensely in its organization from that of GlwlJi
vn, it, 
too, can shoot drops of water to a great height, and can hit, w'ith 
almost unerring aim, insects and otber little animals on aquatic plants, 
or even on tbe herbage at the water's edge. The inhabitants of 
sundry regions in India," add these authors, "and particularly the 
Chinese in Java, keep these fish in their houses for the sake of the 
alnusement afforded by witnessing their performances, offering it ants 
and flies on a string, or on the end of a stick, brought within 
range. . . . The speçies is known in the Indian Archipelago under 
the 1\lalay name of ikanSUlnpit." 
Bleeker, in a recent 'work on the Toæotæ, tells us that at Batavia 
this fish is no longer kept, as it appears to have been a century ago, 
either by Europeans or by the Chinese. lIe further says that n
frOln Chinese nor fronl natives, whether at Batavia or elsewhere, has be 
been able to obtain any confirmation of the accounts ,vhich have been 
given concerning its skill in seizing its prey. According to hÏIn, the 
celebrity enjoyed by the archel'-fisb is undeser\yed, and rests upon a 
lnisapprebension; in short, he sho'ws fron1 the very texts of Pallas 
and Schlosser that Hommel's observation applies to the long-beaked 
Ghelinon, of which we have spoken above, and that like habits baye 
been gratuitously attributed to the two species, they baving been re- 
garded as generically identical.-La .4.Vatul'e. 



E VERY adult hUlllan being carries about with him an atmosphere 
of individuality. B,y this means is the gregarious anilllal called 
lllan enabled to preserve in himself such an isolation from the 11lass 
of his fellows that he can gain and hold "Thateyer lllay be his share 
of prosperity and remelubrance. In this in r livic1uality lie bis po.wers 
of offense and defense-th
 buckler and spear of his ego j and in it 
also is expressed tbe sum of his mental and physical traits in such a 
lnanner that, once having known, we may reIII cnl he]' hinl. There are 
two elements that enter into the formation of this distinctive and 
luemorable quality, mental and physical. These factors enter un- 
equally into the formation of this individual total. The element that 


3 0 7 

has really the least to do with that subtile force called character is 
the one by wlJÎch we chiefly recognize the man. This is the ensenlblecl 
physique, the mental picture .we have formed of the bûdily man; it is 
only by long association that .we come to speak of one by his mental 
traits, and can recall him to our minds, not by accidents of size, shape, 
complexion, but by tbe tone, manner, and quality, of the mental man. 
It is curious, however, to reflect that our chief means of mutual identity 
are the saIne as those by which we distinguish horse from horse, and 
dog from dog; and that such is the infinite variety in the merely phys- 
ical development of men, that this is sufficient for the practical affairs 
of life. In fact, it is not \vithin experience that two human beings 
e,Ter existed who ,vere so nearly alike that side by side they could 
not be distinguished. J But human individuality is separated from 
that of the brute by the refinement of a pllysical quality. This is 
called ternperament. Although temperaments are þurely of physical 
origin, yet their outlet is mainly found in the actions or the mental 
habits of the individual, and thus it is that temperaments, like charity, 
cover a multitude of sins. Even those who believe in the imma- 
teriality and separate entity of mind, do not hesitate to ascribe the 
fretfulness, fickleness, temper, and other mental shortcomings of their 
friends, to faults of temperament. This may in a measure be the result 
of habit, but I believe tbat there is about it the force of a truth that 
even the most spiritual of psychologists cannot escape. It exists as a 
physical medium, through which the mental Hfe sldnes forth, tinged 
and refracted by its passage. The old word expresses it, In.l'ìíl0'rS of 
the body, a mythical, potent, and subtile fluid, n1Íngling with tIle 
bodily substance, and rising, exhalation-like, iuto the brain, obscuring, 
revealing, exalting, and depressing the operations of the n1ind accord- 
ing as it is acting well or ill; as hypothetical as tbe interplanetary 
ether, yet as rea] as a fit of the blue devils. This was somewhat the 
old notion, and a well-fought battle-ground it ,vas, oyer which the sol- 
idists and humora1ists contended right gaUantly. A standpoint upon 
a solid basis of fact is to this day wanting from which we may S3Y 
they ,vere ,vrong. 
l\Iany of these old fathers in medicine fairly reveled in the idea of 
temperaments. It contained just enough of the mysterious to spur 
on their wonder-loving minds. Al1 tbere ,vas of fact about it, ho,v- 
ever, they brought out, and all that .we know about it they knew. 
We are to this day using their terms and classification, and have 
adiled nothing to thern. It stands as a fact in physiology Wll
ch we 
baye inherited from the remotest l)oundary of bistoricalll1edicine. 
The four qualities of Hippocrates were belicyed to be the origin 
of the ten1peraments. In moisture and dryness, in heat and cold, not 
fiR conditions of existence but as entities in life, were found the mate- 
1 Thcre are several remarkable cases of wonderfully close resemblance and mistaken 
identity on record, but none that stood thc test indicated in tbe text 


rials that either singly or together formed tbe temperaments. They 
were combined tbus: hot and moist produced blood, hence tbe san- 
guine temperaments; cold and moist caused pblegrn or pituita, and 
frorn this tbe pblegrnatic or lymphatic; hot and dry produced yellow 
bile, and gave us the sanguine or choleric; and cold and dry caused 
black bile, which predorninating in the body resulted in the melan- 
cholic or bilious temperament. 1 In order to understand the profound 
reason involved in this it must be remembered that these four prima- 
ry principles of living bodies were believed to be compounded of the 
:5imple elelnents of N atnre. Here is shadowed, dinI1y it is true, ùut 
fronl tlie very depths of K ature, the theory of the correlation of forcès, 
and even evolution itself. Boerhaave was anlong the first who at- 
tempted to illlprove the classification of Hippocrates, and then fol- 
lowed Hoffm:lnn, Cullen, and Haller, 
rho, howevel' much reason they 
may bave had, failed to refine the rugged sinlplicity of the old Greek. 
Absurd as ,ve l11ay deenl. the incarnation of the four elements in tbe 
form of tempe;raments by Hippocrates to be, yet from the length of 
time this idea has prevailed, and the profound influence it has exerted 
upon science for centuries, ,ve may believe tbat it possessed the soul 
of truth that exists in things erroneous, as Herbert Spencer says. Not 
until 1757 ,vas anything like a scientific explanation given. The 
learned Haller was the first to give the four elements their final over- 
throw, and place the phenomena upon a pbysiological basis; 2 and 
even he failed to suggest any improyement in the old nomenclature. 
It is strong eviòence of the force that exists latently in old ideas tbat 
an modern attenlpts to extend tbe scope of the Hippocratic terms 
have never gained credit. Dr. Gregory renamed the temper
and added a fifth, .which he called the nervous, and which has been 
accepted and rejected a score of times; ,vhile it is a convenient term 
to use, it is true that it describes no tenlpenunent that may not be 
included under the old terms. Then caIne Dr. Pritchord, wbo re- 
d the refonns of 1>r. Gregory, restored tbe original terms, and 
barely escaped calling hi
 predecessor lIard names. But the ten1pera- 
Inents, simple as they may seem, have afforded groundwork for a 
separate science-not formulated deductions from dry facts, but 
drawn warm fronl the mass of living, suffering humanity. Dr. W. 
B. Powell spent forty years of his life in the study, and at last evolved 
a "hunlan science" with ten cOlnpounds of temperaments with binary, 
ternary, and quaternary subdivisions.' If human science, as taught 
l)y Dr. Po,vell, be true, it ougbt to be the ceaseless study of every 
n1an and woman, taught along with the creed and catechism-which 
are the spiritual to this its earthly and carnate part-to the youngest 
child. Lurking in this science are more than Dantesque horrors, 

1 " De Natura Hominis," tom. ii., ed. Kühn. 
2 "Elementa Physiologiæ Corporis Humani," 1757. 
3 Journal of Human Science, Cincinnati, 1860. 


3 0 9 

which are liable to spring upon the nlost circuDlspect of us in the 
shape of physiological incest; as if in the decalogue and through the 
ingenuity of man there were not already more crimes than human 
nature can withstand, that we should be exposed to others we know 
not of. This physiological crÍ111e consists in the marital union of like 
temperaments. Human Rcience has revealed another latent offense, 
called sexual incompatibility, ,vhich, so far as I know, has not yet, 
in its sexual guise, obtruded itself ill the divorce courts. It is a 
standing rebuke to those who build imaginary sciences, .without a foot- 
hold in the solid world of facts, that, in giving their shadowy creations 
to the people, they are inviting the cold scrutiny of an aggregate 
COlnnlon-sense that never fails in time to separate the true from tbe 
But temperaments have been made to l}lay a more agreeable rôle 
in hlHllan affairs than in defining physiological crimes. In the historr 
of this physical attribute it is interesting to cite its literary aspects. 
Ben Jonson devoted ,,,,hole plays to the idealizations of individual 
tenlperament.s, in ,vhich a peculiarit)T ,vas made to play its part as a 
dramatis persona. The keen and careful analysis of the poet in 
character is immortalized in his play of "Every J\Jan in his Humor." 
Shakespeare proved himself a good physiologist as ,veIl as a good 
judge of a conspirator in contrasting Cassius, "lean and hungry," 
'with men "that are fat; sleek-headed men, and such as sleep 0' 
nights." In the earlier English noyels, telnperament was given a nlore 
careful study than in the lnodern scbool of light literature. Gold- 
smith proved himself an enemy of the humoral pathologists in saying 
of Olivia, in "The Vicar of "T akefield," that the temper of woman 
is generally formed from the cast of her features. Fielding, in his 
creative novel of "Tom Jones," speaks of temperan1ents in such a 
happy vein of his inimitable philosophy, that it is ,vorth quoting and 
remem bering: "I make no nlanuer of doubt," he says, "but that, in 
this light, we may see the Ï111aginary future chancellor just called to 
the bar, the arch bishop in crape, and the prime-minister at the tail 
of an opposition, more truly happy than those who are invested .with 
all the power and profit of these resl)cctive offices." A more perfect 
description of a sanguine man was never writteFl. N oyelists, as a 
rule, analyze temperalnents the opposite of their own in their ideal 
characters. Scott generally describes the bilious in his heroes and 
heroines, and is never purely realistic in describing the sanguine type 
to .which be belonged. Dickens is always happier ill his f('nude char- 
acters, and they are good specinlens of the sanguinC'. Dolly, the 
locksmith's dau o 'lJter is a ver y truthful } )ortrait of this type; while 

1\Iark Tapley, fmuous as the character lllay be, is an atrabilious, who 
is continually violating his pllysiology by being happy unclC'r the 
ver y circumstances that brin cr out the nnmixed nlisery of his dass. 
Dickens himself was decirledly of the lynlphatic-a type he rarely 

VCE }'fONTHLJ r . 

attempted in his creations. Ricbter, in "Hesperus," gives some very 
perfect studies of temperament; but the court physician in that novel 
is represented of his o\vn type. George Eliot never violates Nature 
in her felnale characters, who are generally described as bilious or 
sanguine; but the least said about her heroes the better. Dcronda 
is surely a mistake. He is first described as a good specimen of the 
sturdy, bilious man, and is transformed toward the close of the book 
into the extreme of the sanguine. 
To the scientific mind there is always something assuring when we 
ran leave the field of speculation and enter that of fact. I-Iere chemi- 
cal analysis brings to our aid positive reasons for a classification qf 
men and women according to temperaments. 1\11'. Rees/ quoting froln 
the researches of 1\1. Lecanu, gives us the material for constructing 
the following table. The figures are ratios to 1,000 parts of blood: 


Fema les.. . . .. . . .. . . .. . . . . . . 
Mal es.. . . .. . . .. . . .. . . . . . . . . 

Water. 'Vater. 
'793.007 803.710 
786.584 800.5ß6 
Albun:en. Albumen. 
71.264 68.660 
65.85 71.701 
Red Globule.. Red Globules. 
126.990 11 7. 300 
136.497 110.667 

Females.. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

ales . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . .. . . . . . 

Females . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
Males.. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 





This proves conclusively that temperaments have their origin deep 
and unchangeably fixed in the organic life. Can we, in view of this, 
look doubtingly upon their potent influence on the current of thought 
and emotions ? Water, plasmic material, and tbe red blooc1-globules- 
the oxygen-carriers of. living boclies-rush to tbe brain in proportions 
fixed by the Jaw of temperaments; to one brain more, to another less, 
but ,vith differences sufficient to give vigor, vivacity, tenacity, and 
mental breadth to the action of one; wþile the other moveS more 
slowly, its mental life obscured by the sroa]]er proportion of lllind-food. 
There is one point about which the reader needs to bave a clear 
understanding. This is the difference bet,yeen temperament and 
idiosyncrasy. "Temperament is bui1t in a man, as bricks compose 3, 
well," says Dr. Southey; " his idiosyncrasy is developed according to the 
soil in which he is planted, the conditions under which he grows, and 
the tendency in him to varJr." 2 A man has his temperament as a birth- 
1 " On the Analysis of the Blood and Urine in Health and Disease," London, 1836. 
2 London Lancet, American edition, May, 1876. 


3 11 

right, his idiosyncrasy he acquires, changes, makes it subject to his 
il1, or is ruled by it. The distinction is broader than this, ho,yeyer. 
Temperament is a race-attribute. It is distributed like plants accord- 
ing to latitude and altitude. The bilious is tropic; it thrives best 
near t.he equator. The lymvhatic belongs to the races of the Korth. 
Between these polar types are distributed races that monopolize tem- 
peraments as they do their language. The Celt is sanguine, the SaxoH 
lymphatic, the Gaul nervous, the Latin bilious. Thus, ten1perament 
is pandemic, while idiosyncrasy belongs to the individuaL 1\1. Begin 
calls the first "la variété organique Ia plus générale," and the latter 
"celle qui est plus restreinte." 
The tendency anlong recent writers upon physiology is to exclude 
the bilious, classing it with the nervous, and making three in place of 
four. This is the classification of 1\1. 1\Iichel Lévy.l I shall retain the 
bilio'.-ls, as being a term too con1nlonly used by learned and unlearned 
to be omitted from a popular description. 
The sanguine temperament presents marked physical traits. The 
mean height of the lllale is five feet eight and a IJalf inches, and of the 
female two and a half inches less. The head is small comparatively, 
the face is made square by a firm and angular lower jaw, the forehead 
is slightly sloping, the nose prominent; it has a determined, resolute, 
exacting look. Under thirty-five the figures of both sexes are sparely 
covered wìth fat, but withal Inuscular. The chest is large, measuring 
thirty-five inches in average girth, and the abdomen flat. The com- 
plexion is light, and is florid only by exception to the rule; the hair 
light, light brown, or auburn, and often curly. 
J'he mouth is usually 
large, the lower lip full, and tbe teeth are regular, with a slightly- 
yellow tinge, which indicates firm and lasting dentine. The sanguine 
are generally good caters and drinkers. All of the vital functions are 
active; the large chest-room, the vigorous henrt, the firm muscles, in- 
sure a bodily activity that keeps the operations of organic life in un- 
conscious and easy motion. Digestion, assimilation, excretion, and 
eliInination, work in harmony and with vigor. 
1\Ientally, this type is the reflection of its physical traits. TIle 
rich blood, by its active circulation through the brain, canses yÍ\-ia 
and active mental action. The general cast of tIle nlÍnd is never 
gloomy. The mental vision is outward rather than inward, and 8ee
things near or remote tinted by glowing, joyous colors, as through a 
prism. This mental outlook never ÏInplies profound insigJIt, or deep 
thought, or conscious indwelling. It is the surface of things tlult is 
studied with quick and transient glances of all tbat is pleasant, revolt- 
ing from the difficult or painful. The sanguine man, tberefore, learns 
quickly and knows a little of everything, and by his ready tongue and 
quick ,vit is good company-a thorough good fenow. He is brave from 
a sense of perfect muscular strengtb, loving sport and atbletic games. 
1 " Traité d'IIygiène." 


lIe is quick to anger, but soon forgets wrong; a word and a blow, 
and oftentimes the blow first, are the features of his wrath. 
It is in medicine only that the temperalllents have practical Ï111- 
portance, if "re reject Dr. Powell's ne,v science. Sanguine people 
are })rone to acute diseases of the inflammatory type. Apoplexy, dis- 
eases of the heart and blood-vessels, hæmorrhages, acute fevers, pneu- 
monia, pleurisy, aud closely-allied disorders, are the fornls of dis- 
ease generally met with. Dl'. Southey assigns to this class the old 
idea of crises; that is, ill febrile diseases, at certain times, there .will 
be sudden losses of the fluids of the body spontaneously, by .which 
the diseased action secures a Hew outlet, and this is followed by a 
convalescence. These evacuations, if the temperanlent of the patient 
be understood, are never interfered with by the physician, as they are 
Nature's own efforts to throw off the disease. Rapid recovery, or a 
speedy fatal result, may generally be looked for among sanguine peo- 
ple. In this temperalnent the physical part of man reaches its most 
perfect expression; the body is here in even balance ,,"ith the brain. 
Such a combination as that of persistent intellectual effort with a 
typical sauguine tell1perament is rare. Prof. J ûhn 'Yilson (Christo- 
pher North) is an exaluple of this, and of ,vhich there is scarce another 
illustration in literature. This teIl1peralnent, finding its pnrer expres- 
sion in a near approach to human anÏInalisln, ,vith soul and boay 
adjusted and evenly poised, a happy mingling of mind and matter, 
Iflust surely have 1een the type of the l\Iiltonic man. The fancy can- 
not paint hinl other than this, and believe him capable of contend- 
ing ,,
ith the dangers, obstacles, and unrelenting hardships, of his 
life. Of this type have the sailors, colonists, soldiers, "and explorers, 
generally been-all Inen who lead in the battle ,,"ith Nature's ob- 
In the lymphatic telnperament we have a direct antithesis of the 
sanguine. Typically, the lymphatics are heavily framed, the liInbs 
are clunlsy and large-jointed, awkward and slow' in movement. This 
i:3\ due to the thickness of the articular surfaces of the long bones, and 
this also explains the large wrists and ankles; the head is large, the 
face unanÏlnated, thick-lipped, pale, and with large features, the ex- 
pression listless and apathetic; the eyes are blue or gray, the hair 
'white, blond, or light auburn, and abundant. The 11lale figure is be- 
tween five feet eight inches and six feet two ÎJ.)ches in heigl)t, the 
íemale fiye feet six or nine inches high (Southey), and such are t11e 
l)roportiol1s that a person of this temperament rarely Ineets the artis- 
tic ideal of human beauty. The texture of the flesh is soft and flab- 
by, and generally ahundant, the muscles sIllall and slow in their 
developnlent. Puberty is late in its :.!ch'ent; this is but a charac- 
teristic, ho,vever, of the slow and deliberate mann('r of the general 
development. Functions are slowly perforIncd and not evenly hal- 
anced; the fluid secretions too abundant, the ab
orbents inactive 


3 1 3 

in comparison: thus, the figure has the deceptive a})pearance of a 
superabundant nutrition. This is a one-sided nutrition, the appropri- 
ation of fatty Jnaterial to the neglect of the solid, motor Juachillery of 
brawn and nluscles. 
The mental traits 
een1 to take direction and tOIle from the bodily 
characteristics. The passions move slowly and are easiJy kept under 
control, in marked contrast to those of the sanguine man who has 
no nlore control than is sufficient to keep hitl1 within the not too 
narrow lin1Ïts of the social barriers. Fron1 the moderate cl110tional 
development there is little need of energetic ,vill-power. ""'-here the 
moral qualities have any chance of growth aHd exercise they are 
always" good people," orthodox, and conservative. The mind acts 
slo,vly, but is very retentive, 'logical and sound in its conclusions. 
They are persistent in their undertakings, honorable in their affairs 
'wit1 other 111en; c011lmonplace and con11110n-sensc goyern then1 in 
their daily life. They are apt to be dull companions, hut constant 
and steadfast friends. 
This temperan1ent is founel in its 11108t perfect forn1 nmong men; 
WOlllen rarely show it uncrossed, especially as it easily blends 'with 
other temperan1ents. There is no doubt l)ut in this type there are in- 
herent defects of histological structure. Dr. Southey says it is due to 
a too exuberant vegetative cell-life. Whatever n1ay be the radical 
cause, persons of this type are weak in vital energy, and short-lived. 
'rhey are the usual subjects of structural changes, such as sCl'ofula, 
phthisis, and articular rhenn1at