Skip to main content

Full text of "The Popular science monthly"

See other formats

BstablisbeO bp E&war& %. lt)oumans 










Copyright. 1900, 

By d. ai'pleton and coMPA>nr. 







ML'CH has been written of late about " tbe real problems of 
democracy." According to some " thinkers," they consist 
of the invention of ingenious devices to prevent caucus frauds and 
the purchase of votes, to check the passage of special laws as well 
as too many laws, and to infuse into decent people an ardent de- 
sire to participate in the wrangles of politics. According to others, 
they consist of the invention of equally ingenious devices to com- 
pel corporations to manage their business in accordance with Chris- 
tian principles, to transform the so-called natural monopolies into 
either State or municipal monopolies, and to effect, by means of the 
power of taxation, a more equitable distribution of wealth. Ac- 
cording to still others, they consist of the invention of no less in- 
genious devices to force people to be temperate, to observe human- 
ity toward children and animals, and to read and study what will 
make them model citizens. It is innocently and touchingly believed 
that with the solution of these problems, by the application of the 
authority that society has over the individual, " the social con- 
science " will be awakened. But such a belief can not be realized. 
It has its origin in a conception of democracy that has no founda- 
tion either in history or science. What are supposed to be the 
real problems of democracy are only the problems of despotism — 
the problems to which every tyrant from time immemorial has 
addressed himself, to the moral and industrial ruin of his subjects. 
If democracy be conceived not as a form of political government 
under the regime of universal suffrage, but as a condition of free- 
dom under moral control, permitting every man to do as he likes, 
so long as he does not trench upon the equal right of every other 

VOL. LVI. — 1 


man, deliverance from the sophistries and absurdities of current 
social and political discussion becomes easy and inevitable. Its 
real problems cease to be an endless succession of political de- 
vices that stimulate cunning and evasion, and countless encroach- 
ments upon individual freedom that stir up contention and ill 
feeling. Instead of being innumerable and complex, defying the 
solvent power of the greatest intellects and the efforts of the most 
enthusiastic philanthropists, they become few and simple. While 
their proper solution is beset with difficulties, these difficulties are 
not as hopeless as the framing of a statute to produce a growth 
of virtue in a depraved heart. Indeed, no such task has ever been 
accomplished, and every effort in that direction has been worse 
than futile. It has encouraged the growth of all the savage traits 
that ages of conflict have stamped so profoundly in the nervous 
system of the race. But let it be understood that the real prob- 
lems of democracy are the problems of self-support and self-con- 
trol, the problems that appeared with the appearance of human 
life, and that their sole solution is to be found in the application 
of precisely the same methods with which Nature disciplines the 
meanest of her creatures, then we may expect a measure of suc- 
cess from the efforts of social and political reformers; for free- 
dom of thought and action, coupled with the punishment that 
comes from a failure to comply with the laws of life and the con- 
ditions of existence, creates an internal control far more potent 
than any law. It impels men to depend upon their own efforts 
to gain a livelihood; it inspires them with a respect for the right 
of others to do the same. 

Simple and commonplace as the traits of self-support and self- 
control may seem, they are of transcendent importance. Every 
other trait sinks into insignificance. The society whose members 
have learned to care for themselves and to control themselves has 
no further moral or economic conquests to make. It will be in 
the happy condition dreamed of by all poets, philosophers, and 
philanthropists. There will be no destitution, for each person, 
being able to maintain himself and his family, will have no occa- 
sion, except in a case of a sudden and an unforeseen misfortune, 
to look to his friends and neighbors for aid. But in thus main- 
taining himself — that is, in pursuing the occupation best adapted 
to his ability and most congenial to his taste — ^he will contribute 
in the largest degree to the happiness of the other members of 
the community. While they are pursuing the occupations best 
adapted to their ability and most congenial to their tastes, they 
will be able to obtain from him, as he will be able to obtain from 
them, those things that both need to supplement the products of 


their own industry. Since each will be left in full possession of 
all the fruits of his own toil, he will be at liberty to make just 
such use of them as will contribute most to His happiness, thus per- 
mitting the realization, in the only practicable way, of Bentham's 
principle of " the greatest happiness of the greatest number." 
Since all of them will be free to make such contracts as they be- 
lieve will be most advantageous to them, exchanging what they 
are willing to part with for what some one else is willing to give 
in return, there will prevail the only equitable distribution of the 
returns from labor and capital, ISTo one will receive more and no 
one less than he is entitled to. Thus will benefit be in proportion 
to merit, and the most scrupulous justice be satisfied. 

But this regime of equity in the distribution of property im- 
plies, as I have already said, the possession of a high degree of self- 
control, i^ot only must all persons have such a keen sense of their 
own rights as will never permit them to submit to infringement, 
but they must have such a keen sense of the rights of others that 
they will not be guilty themselves of infringement. Not only will 
they refrain from the commission of those acts of aggression whose 
ill effects are immediate and obvious; they will refrain from those 
acts whose ill effects are remote and obscure. Although they will 
not, for example, deceive or steal or commit personal assaults, they 
will not urge the adoption of a policy that will injure the unknown 
members of other communities, like the Welsh tin-plate makers 
and the Vienna pearl-button makers that the McKinley Bill de- 
prived of employment. Realizing the vice of the plea of the op- 
ponents of international copyright that cheap literature for a peo- 
ple is better than scrupulous honesty, they will not refuse to foreign 
authors the same protection to property that they demand. They 
will not, finally, allow themselves to take by compulsion or by per- 
suasion the property of neighbors to be used to alleviate suffering 
or to disseminate knowledge in a way to weaken the moral and 
physical strength of their fellows. But the possession of a sense 
of justice so scrupulous assumes the possession of a fellow-feeling 
so vivid that it will allow no man to refuse all needful aid to the 
victims of misfortune. As suffering to others will mean suffering 
to himself, he will be as powerfully moved to go to their rescue 
as he would to protect himself against the same misfortune. In- 
deed, he will be moved, as all others will be moved, to undertake 
without compulsion all the benevolent work, be it charitable or 
educational, that may be necessary to aid those persons less for- 
tunate than himself to obtain the greatest possible satisfaction out 
of life. 

But the methods of social reform now in greatest vogue do 


not contribute to the realization of any such millennium. Thej 
are a flagrant violation of the laws of life and the conditions of ex- 
istence. Thej make difficult, if not impossible, the establishment 
of the moral government of a democracy that insures every man 
and woman not only freedom but also sustentation and protection. 
In disregard of the principles of biology, which demand that bene- 
fit shall be in proportion to merit, the feeble members of society 
are fostered at the expense of the strong. Setting at defiance the 
principles of psychology, which insist upon the cultivation of the 
clearest perception of the inseparable relation of cause and effect 
and the equally inseparable relation of aggression and punishment, 
honest people are turned into thieves and murderers, and thieves 
and murderers are taught to believe that no retribution awaits the 
commission of the foulest crime. Scornful of the principles of 
sociology, which teach in the plainest way that the institutions of 
feudalism are the products of war and can serve no other pur- 
pose than the promotion of aggression, a deliberate effort, born 
of the astonishing belief that they can be transformed into the 
agencies of progress, is made in time of peace to restore them 
to life. 

To the American Philistine nothing is more indicative of the 
marvelous moral superiority of this age and country than the rapid 
increase in the public expenditures for enterprises " to benefit the 
people." Particularly enamored is he of the showy statistics of 
hospitals, asylums, reformatories, and other so-called charitable 
institutions supported by public taxation. " How unselfish we 
are ! " he exclaims, swelling with pride as he points to them. " In 
what other age or in what other country has so much been done 
for the poor and unfortunate? " ISTaught shall ever be said by 
me against the desire to help others. The fellow-feeling that 
thrives upon the aid rendered to the sick and destitute I believe to 
be the most precious gift of civilization. Upon its growth de- 
pends the further moral advancement of the race. As I have al- 
ready intimated, only as human beings are able to represent to 
themselves vividly the sufferings of others will they be moved to 
desist from the conduct that contributes to those sufferings. But 
the system of public charity that prevails in this country is not 
charity at all; it is a system of forcible public largesses, as odious 
and demoralizing as the one that contributed so powerfully to the 
downfall of Athens and Pome. By it money is extorted from 
the taxpayer with as little justification as the crime of the high- 
wayman, and expended by politicians with as little love as he of 
their fellows. What is the result? Precisely what might be ex- 
pected. He is infuriated because of the growing burden of his taxes. 


Instead of being made more humane and sympathetic with every 
dollar he gives under compulsion to the poor and suffering, he be- 
comes more hard-hearted and bitter toward his fellows. The no- 
tion that society, as organized at present, is reducing him to pov- 
erty and degradation takes possession of him. He becomes an 
agitator for violent reforms that will only render his condition 
Avorse. At the same time the people he aids come to regard him 
simply as a person under obligations to care for them. They feel 
no more gratitude toward him than the wolf toward the victim 
of its hunger and ferocity. 

Akin to public charity are all those public enterprises under- 
taken to ameliorate the condition of the poor — parks, model tene- 
ment houses, art galleries, free concerts, free baths, and relief 
works of all kinds. To these I must add all those Federal, State, 
and municipal enterprises, such as the post office with the pro- 
posed savings attachment, a State system of highways and water- 
ways, municipal water, gas and electric works, etc., that are sup- 
posed to be of inestimable advantage to the same worthy class. 
These likewise fill the heart of the American Philistine with im- 
mense satisfaction. Although he finds, by his study of pleasing 
romances on municipal government in Europe, that we have yet 
to take some further steps before we fall as completely as the in- 
habitants of Paris and Berlin into the hands of municipal despo- 
tism, he is convinced that we have made gratifying headway, and 
that the outlook for complete subjection to that despotism is en- 
couraging. But it should be remembered that splendid public 
libraries and public baths, and extensive and expensive systems of 
highways and municipal improvements, built under a modified form 
of the old corvee, are no measure of the fellow-feeling and enlight- 
enment of a community. On the contrary, they indicate a pitiful 
incapacity to appreciate the rights of others, and are, therefore, a 
measure rather of the low degree of civilization. It should be 
remembered also, especially by the impoverished victims of the de- 
lusions of the legislative philanthropist, that there is no expendi- 
ture that yields a smaller return in the long run than public ex- 
penditure; that however honest the belief that public ofiicials will 
do their duty as conscientiously and efiSciently as private indi- 
viduals, history has yet to record the fact of any bureaucracy; 
that however profound the conviction that the cost of these " pub- 
lic blessings " comes out of the pockets of the rich and is on that 
account particularly justifiable, it comes largely out of the pockets 
of the poor; and that by the amount abstracted from the income 
of labor and capital by that amount is the sum divided between 
labor and capital reduced. 


" But," interposes the optimist, " have the Americans not their 
great public-school system, unrivaled in the world, to check and 
finally to end the evils that appear thus far to be inseparably con- 
nected with popular government? Is there any truth more firmly 
established than that it is the bulwark of American institutions, 
and that if we maintain it as it should be maintained they will be 
able to weather any storm that may threaten?" Precisely the 
same argument has been urged time out of mind in behalf of an 
ecclesiastical system supported at the expense of the taxpayer. 
Good men without number have believed, and have fought to main- 
tain their belief, that only by the continuance of this form of ag- 
gression could society be saved from corruption and barbarism. 
Even in England to-day, where freedom and civilization have made 
their most brilliant conquests, this absurd contention is made to 
bolster up the rotten and tottering union of Church and state, and 
to justify the seizure of the property of taxpayers to support a 
particular form of ecclesiastical instruction. But no fact of his- 
tory has received demonstrations more numerous and conclusive 
than that such instruction, whether Protestant or Catholic, Bud- 
dhist or Mohammedan, in the presence of the demoralizing forces 
of militant activities, is as impotent as the revolutions of the prayer 
wheel of a pious Hindu. To whatever country or people or age we 
may turn, we find that the spirit of the warrior tramples the spirit 
of the saint in the dust. Despite the lofty teachings of Socrates 
and Plato, the Athenians degenerated until the name of the Greek 
became synonymous with that of the blackest knave. With the no- 
ble examples and precepts of the Stoics in constant view, the Romans 
became beastlier than any beast. All through the middle ages and 
down to the present century the armies of ecclesiastics, the vast 
libraries of theology, and the myriads of homilies and prayers were 
impotent to prevent the social degradation that inundated the 
world with the outbreak of every great conflict. Take, for ex- 
ample, a page from the history of Spain. At the time of Philip II, 
who tried to make his people as rigid as monks, that country had 
no rival in its fanatical devotion to the Church, or its slavish ob- 
servance of the forms of religion. Yet its moral as well as its in- 
tellectual and industrial life was sinking to the lowest level. Ofii- 
cial corruption was rampant. The most shameless sexual laxity 
pervaded all ranks. The name of Spanish women, who had " in 
previous times been modest, almost austere and Oriental in 
their deportment," became a byword and a reproach throughout 
the world. " The ladies are naturally shameless," says Camille 
Borghese, the Pope's delegate to Madrid in 1593, " and even in the 
streets go up and address men unknown to them, looking upon it 


as a kind of heresy to be properly introduced. They admit all 
sorts of men to their conversation, and are not in the least scan- 
dalized at the most improper proposals being made to them." To 
see how ecclesiastics themselves fall a prey to the ethics of mili- 
tant activities, becoming as heartless and debauched as any other 
class, take a page from Italian history at the time of Pope Alex- 
ander VI. " Crimes grosser than Scythian," says a pious Catholic 
who visited Rome, " acts of treachery worse than Carthaginian, 
are committed without disguise in the Vatican itself under the 
eyes of the Pope. There are rapines, murders, incests, debauch- 
eries, cruelties exceeding those of the Neros and Caligulas." Sim- 
ilar pages from the history of every other country in Europe given 
uj) to war, including Protestant England, might be quoted. 

But what is true of ecclesiastical effort in the presence of mili- 
tant activities is true of pedagogic effort in the presence of politi- 
cal activities. For more than half a century the public-school 
system in its existing form has been in full and energetic operation. 
The money devoted to it every year now reaches the enormous 
total of one hundred and eighty million dollars. Simultaneously 
an unprecedented extension of secondary education has occurred. 
Since the war, colleges and universities, supported in whole or in 
part at the public expense, have been established in more than half 
of the States and Territories of the Union. To these must be added 
the phenomenal growth of normal schools, high schools, and acad- 
emies, and of the equipment of the educational institutions already 
in existence. Yet, as a result, are the American people more 
moral than they were half a century ago? Have American insti- 
tutions — that is, the institutions based upon the freedom of the 
individual — been made more secure? I venture to answer both 
questions with an emphatic negative. The construction and oper- 
ation of the greatest machine of pedagogy recorded in history has 
been absolutely impotent to stem the rising tide of political cor- 
ruption and social degeneration. If there are skeptics that doubt 
the truth of this indictment let them study the criminal history of 
the day that records the annual commission of more than six thou- 
sand suicides and more than ten thousand homicides, and the embez- 
zlement of more than eleven million dollars. Let them study the 
lying pleas of the commercial interests of the country that demand 
protection against " the pauper labor of Europe," and thus commit a 
shameless aggression upon the pauper labor of America. Let them 
study the records of the deeds of intolerance and violence committed 
upon workingmen that refuse to exchange their personal liberty 
for membership of a despotic labor organization. Let them study 
the columns of the newspapers, crowded with records of crime, 


salacious stories, and ignorant comment on current questions and 
events that appeal to a population as unlettered and base as them- 
selves. Let them study, finally, the appalling indictment of Ameri- 
can political life, in a State where the native blood still runs pure 
in the veins of the majority of the inhabitants, that Mr. John 
Wanamaker framed in a great speech at the opening of his memo- 
rable campaign in Lancaster against the most powerful and most 
corrupt despotism that can be found outside of Russia or Turkey. 
" In the fourth century of Rome, in the time of Emperor Theo- 
dosius, Hellebichus was master of the forces," he said, endeavoring 
to describe a condition of affairs that exists in a similar degree in 
every State in the Union, " and Csesarius was count of the offices. 
In the nineteenth century, M. S. Quay is count of the offices, and 
AV. A. Andrews, Prince of Lexow, is master of forces in Pennsyl- 
vania, and we have to come through the iron age and the silver age 
to the worst of all ages — the degraded, evil age of conscienceless, 
debauched politics. . . . Profligacy and extravagance and boss rule 
everywhere oppress the people. By the multiplication of indict- 
ments your district attorney has multiplied his fees far beyond the 
joint salaries of both your judges. The administration of justice 
before the magistrates has degenerated into organized raids on the 
county treasury. . . '. Voters are corruptly influenced or forcibly 
coerced to do the bidding of the bosses, and thus force the fetters 
of political vassalage on the freemen of the old guard. School 
directors, supervisors, and magistrates, and the whole machinery 
of local government, are involved and dominated by this accursed 

But Mr. Wanamaker might have added that the whole social 
and industrial life of the country is involved and dominated by the 
same system. It is a well-established law of social science that 
the evil effects of a dominant activity are not confined to the per- 
sons engaged in it. Like a contagion, they spread to every part 
of the social organization, and poison the life farthest removed 
from their origin. Yet the public-school system, so impotent to 
save us from social and political degradation and still such an 
object of unbounded pride and adulation, is, as Mr. Wanamaker, 
all unconscious of the implication of his scathing criticism, points 
out in so many words, an integral part of the vast and complex 
machinery that political despotism has seized upon to plunder and 
enslave the American people. As in the case of every other exten- 
sion of the duties of government beyond the limits of the preserva- 
tion of order and the enforcement of justice, it is an aggression upon 
the rights of the individual, and, as in the case of every other ag- 
gression, contributes powerfully to the decay of national character 


and free institutions. It adds thousands upon thousands to the 
constantly growing army of tax eaters that are impoverishing the 
people still striving against heavy odds to gain an honest liveli- 
hood. It places in the hands of the political despots now ruling 
the country, without the responsibility that the most odious mon- 
arclis have to bear, a revenue and an army of mercenaries that 
make more and more difficult emancipation from their shackles. 
It is doing more than anything else except the post-office depart- 
ment to teach people that there is no connection between merit and 
benefit; that they have the right to look to the State rather than 
to themselves for maintenance; tliat they are under no obligations 
to see that they do not take from others, in the form of salaries 
not earned nor intended to be earned, what does not belong to 
them. In the face of this wholesale destruction of fellow-feeling 
such as occurred in France under the old regime and is occurring 
to-day in Italy and Spain, and the inculcation of the ethics of mili- 
tant activities, such as may be observed in these countries as well 
as elsewhere in Europe, is it any wonder that the mind-stuffing that 
goes on in the public schools has no more effect upon the morals 
of the American people than the creeds and prayers of the medi- 
aeval ecclesiastics that joined in wars and the spoliation of oppressed 
populations throughout Europe? 

Since the path that all people under popular government as 
well as under forms more despotic are pursuing so energetically 
and hopefully leads to the certain destruction of the foundations 
of civilization, what is the path that social science points out? 
What must they do to prevent the extinction of the priceless ac- 
quisition of fellow-feeling, now vanishing so rapidly before the 
most unselfish efforts to promote it? The supposition is that the 
social teachings of the philosophy of evolution have no answer to 
these questions. Believing that they inculcate the hideous laissez- 
faire doctrine of " each for himself and the devil take the hind- 
most," so characteristic of human relations among all classes of peo- 
ple in this country, the victims of this supposition have repudiated 
them. But I propose to show tliat tliey are the only teachings that 
give the slightest promise of social amelioration. Although they 
are ignorantly stigmatized as indi^'idualistic, and therefore neces- 
sarily selfish and inconsiderate of the welfare of others, they are in 
reality socialistic in the best sense of the word — that is, they enjoin 
voluntary, not coercive, co-operation, and insure the noblest hu- 
manity and the most perfect civilization, moral as well as material, 
that can be attained. 

Why a society organized upon the individualistic instead of 
the socialistic basis will realize ev^ry achievement admits of easv 


cxplaiuitiou. A inau dependent upon liimself i;? forced by the- 
struggle for existence to exercise every faculty lie possesses or can 
possibly develop to save himself and his progeny from extinction. 
Under such pitiless and irresistible pressure he acquires the highest 
physical and intellectual strength. Thus equipped with weapons- 
absolutely indispensable in any state of society, whether civilized 
or uncivilized, he is prepared for the conquest of the world. He 
gains also the physical and moral courage needful to cope with the 
difficulties that terrify and paralyze the people that have not been 
subjected to the same rigid discipline. Energetic and self-reliant,, 
he assails them with no thought of failure. If, however, he meets 
with reverses, he renews the attack, and repeats it until success 
finally comes to reward his efforts. Such prolonged struggles give 
steadiness and solidity to his character that do not permit him to 
abandon himself to trifles or to yield easily, if at all, to excitement 
and panic. He never falls a victim to Keigns of Terror. The more 
trying the times, the more self-possessed, clear-headed, and capable- 
of grai)pling with the situation he becomes, and soon rises superior 
to it. With every triumph over difficulties there never fails to 
come the joy that more tlian balances the pain and suffering en- 
dured. But the pain and suffering are as precious as the joy of 
triumph. Indelibly registered in tlie nervous system, they enable 
their victim to feel as others feel passing through the same ex- 
perience, and this fellow-feeling prompts him to render them the 
assistance they may need. .In this way be becomes a philanthro- 
pist. Possessed, of the abundant means that the success of his 
enterprises has placed in his hands, he is in a position to help them 
to a degree not within the reach nor the desires of the member 
of the society organized upon the socialistic basis. 

In the briefest appeal to history may be found the amplest sup- 
port for these deductions from the principles of social science. 
Wherever the individual has been given the largest freedom to do- 
whatever he pleases, as long as he does not trench upon the equal 
freedom of others, there we witness all those achievements and dis- 
cover all those traits that indicate an advanced state of social prog- 
ress. The people are the most energetic, the most resourceful, the 
most prosperous, the most considerate and humane, the most anx- 
ious, and the most competent to care for their less fortunate fel- 
lows. On the other hand, wherever the individual has been most 
repressed, deterred by custom or legislation from making the most 
of himself in every way, there are to be observed social immobility 
or retrogression and all the hateful traits that belong to barbarians. 
The people are inert, slavish, cruel, and superstitious. In the 
ancient world one type of society is represented by the Egyptians 


and Assyrians, and tlie other by the Greeks and Romans. In the 
modern world all the Oriental peoples, particularly the Hindus 
and Chinese, represent the former, and the Occidental peoples, 
particularly the Anglo-Saxons, represent the latter. So superior, 
in fact, are the Anglo-Saxons because of their observance of the 
sacred and fruitful principle of individual freedom that they con- 
trol the most desirable parts of the earth's surface. If not checked 
by the practice of a philosoiDhy that has destroyed all the great 
peoples of antiquity and paralyzed their competitors in the estab- 
lishment of colonies in the l^e^\ as well as the Old World, there is 
no reason to doubt that the time will eventually come when, like 
the Romans, there will be no other rule than theirs in all the 
choicest parts of the globe. 

It is the immense material superiority of the Anglo-Saxon 
peoples over all other nations that first arrests attention. Xo 
people in Europe j^ossess the capital or conduct the enterprises 
that the English and Americans do. They have more railroads, 
more steamships, more factories, more foundries, more warehouses, 
more of everything that requires wealth and energy than their 
rivals. Though the fact evokes the sneers of the Ruskins and Car- 
lyles, these enterprises are the indispensable agents of civilization. 
They have done more for civilization, for the union of distant peo- 
ples, and the development of fellow-feeling — for all that makes life 
worth living — than all the art, literature, and theology ever pro- 
duced. Without industry and commerce, which these devotees of 
^' the higher life " never weary of deprecating, how would the in- 
habitants of the Italian republics have achieved the intellectual and 
artistic conquests that make them the admiration of every histo- 
rian? The Stones of Venice could not have been written. The 
artists could not have lived that enabled Vassari to hand his name 
down to posterity. The new learning would have been a flower 
planted in a barren soil, and even before it had come to bud it 
would have fallen withered. May we not, therefore, expect that 
in like manner the wealth and freedom of the Anglo-Saxon race 
will bring forth fruits that shall- not evoke scorn and contempt? 
Already their achievements in eA^ery field except painting, sculp- 
ture, and architecture eclipse those of their rivals. Not except- 
ing the literature of the Greeks, is any so rich, varied, powerful, 
and voluminous as theirs? If they have no Caesar or ISTapoleon, 
they have a long list of men that have been of infinitely greater 
use to civilization than those two products of militant barbarism. 
If judged by practical results, they are without rivals in the work 
of education. By their inventions and their applications of the 
discoveries of science they have distanced all competitors in the 


race for iudustrial and commercial supremacy. In the work of 
lihilanthropj no people has done as much as they. The volume 
of their personal effort and pecuniary contributions to ameliorate 
the condition of the poor and unfortunate are without parallel in 
the annals of charity. Yet Professor Ely, echoing the opinion of 
Charles Booth and other misguided philanthropists, has the assur- 
ance to tell us that " individualism has broken down." It is the 
social philosophy that they are trying to thrust upon the world 
again that stands hopelessly condemned before the remorseless tri- 
bunal of universal experience. 

In the light thus x)btained from science and history, the duty 
of the American people toward the current social and political 
philosophy and all the quack measures it proposes for the amelio- 
ration of the condition of the unfortunate becomes clear and ur- 
gent. It is to pursue without equivocation or deviation the policy 
of larger and larger freedom for the individual that has given the 
Anglo-Saxon his superiority and present dominance in the world. 
To this end they should oppose w^ith all possible vigor every pro- 
posed extension of the duty of the state that does not look to the 
preservation of order and the enforcement of justice. Regard- 
ing it as an onslaught of the forces of barbarism, they should 
make no compromise wdth it; they should fight it until freedom 
has triumphed. The next duty is to conquer the freedom they 
still lack. Here the battle must be for the suppression of the sys- 
tem of protective tariffs, for the transfer to private enterprise and 
beneficence, the duties of the post office, the public schools, and all 
public charities, for the repeal of all laws in regulation of trade 
and industry as well as those in regulation of habits and morals. 
As an inspiration it should be remembered that the struggle is not 
only for freedom but for honesty. For the truth can not be too 
loudly or too often proclaimed that every law taking a dollar from 
a man without his consent, or regulating his conduct not in accord- 
ance with his own notions, but in accordance with those of his 
neighbors, contributes to the education of a people in idleness and 
crime. The next duty is to encourage on every hand an appeal 
to voluntary effort to accomplish all tasks too great for the strength 
of the individual. Whether those tasks be moral, industrial, or 
educational, voluntary co-operation alone should assume them and 
carry them to a successful issue. The government sliould have 
no more to do with them than it has to do with the cultivation of 
wheat or the management of Sunday schools or the suppression of 
backbiting. The last and final duty should be to cheapen and, as 
fast as possible, to establish gratuitous justice. With the great 
diminution of crime that would result from the observance of the 


duties already mentioned there would be much less occasion than 
now to appeal to the courts. But, whenever the occasion arises, it 
should involve no cost to the person that feels that his rights have 
been invaded. 

Thus will be solved indirectly all the probleius of democracy 
that social and political reformers seek in vain to solve directly. 
With the diminution of the duties of the state to the preservation 
of order and the enforcement of justice w'ill be effected a reform 
as important and far reaching as the suppression of chronic war- 
fare. When politicians are deprived of the immense plunder now 
involved in political warfare, it will not be necessary to devise 
futile plans for caucus reform, or ballot reform, or convention re- 
form, or charter reform, or legislative reform. Having no more 
incentive to engage in their nefarious business than the smugglers 
that the abolition of the infamous tariff laws banished from Eu- 
rope, they will disappear among the crowd of honest toilers. 
The suppression of the robberies of the tax collectors and tax 
eaters, who have become so vast an army in the United States, 
will effect also a solution of all labor problems. A society that 
permits every toiler to work for whomsoever he pleases and for 
whatever he pleases, protecting him in the full enjoyment of all 
the fruits of his labor, has done for him everything that can be 
done. It has taught him self-support and self-control. In thus 
guaranteeing him freedom of contract and putting an end to the 
plunder of a bureaucracy and privileged classes of private indi- 
viduals, the beneficiaries of special legislation, it has effected the 
only equitable distribution of property possible. At the same time 
it has accomplished a vastly greater work. As I have shown, the 
indispensable condition of success of all movements for moral re- 
form is the suppression not only of militant strife, but of political 
strife. While they prevail, all ecclesiastical and pedagogic efforts 
to better the condition of society must fail. Despite lectures, de- 
spite sermons and prayers, despite also literature and art, the 
ethics controlling the conduct of men and women will be those of 
war. But with the abolition of both forms of militant strife it be- 
comes an easy task to teach the ethics of peace, and to establish a 
state of society that requires no other government than that of 
conscience. All the forces of industrialism contribute to the work 
and insure its success. 

" This thirst for shooting every rare or unwonted kind of bird," says 
the author of an article in the London Saturday Eeview, " is accountable 
for the disappearance of many interesting forms of life in the British 






MOST milKl^ ill America, as in England, if they think about 
the subject at all, impute to the two ancient centers of An- 
glo-Saxon learning — Oxford and Cambridge — an unquestionable 
supremacy. A halo of greatness surrounds these august institu- 
tions, none the less real because to the American mind, at least, 
it is vague. Half the books students at other institutions require 
in their various courses have the names of eminent Cambridge or 
Oxford inon n])on the fly leaf. Michael Foster's Physiology, Sidg- 

wick's Methods of Ethics, 
and Bryce's American Com- 
monwealth are recognized 
text-books wherever the sub- 
jects of which they treat 
are studied; while Sir Gr. G. 
Stokes, Jebb, Lord Acton, 
Caird, Max Miiller, and Rav 
\ I' \ Lankester are as well known 

^^ ^ "^^ to students of Leland Stan- 

^ Jjl^ Jt^^^k ford or Princeton as they 

are to Englishmen. One 
can scarcely read a work on 
English literature or open 
an English novel Avhich does 
not make some reference to 
one or other of the great 
universities or their col- 
k'ges, inseparably associated 
as they are Avith English 
life and history, past and 
present. Our oldest college 
owes its existence to John 
Harvard, of Emmanuel, Cambridge, and the name of the mother 
university still clings to her transatlantic ofTsjiring. The English 
institutions have become firmly associated in tlu^ vulgar mind with 
all that is dignified, venerable, and thorough in learning, but, be- 
yond a vague sentiment of admiration, little adequate knoAvledge on 
the subject is abroad. .Vniciican or German universities are organi- 
zations not very difficult to comjjndiend, and a vague knowledge of 
them is perha])s sufficient. The und(M-standing, however, of those 
complicated acndcinic coiiNminitics, Oxfoi'd and Cambridge, is a 

Michael Foster, K. C. B., M. A., F. U. S. 
Trinity. Professor of Physi(jlogy. 



matter of intimate experience. They differ widely from their sister 
institutions in other coimtries, and in attempting to give some con- 
ception of their peculiarities the writer proposes to restrict himself 
•chiefly to Cambridge, because there are not very many striking dif- 
ferences between the latter 
and Oxford, and because 
the scientific supremacy of 
•Cambridge is sufficiently es- 
tablished to render her an 
■object of greater intei-est to 
the readers of the Science 

First of all, it must be 
borne in mind that through- 
out most of their history 
these institutions have been 
closely related, not to the 
body of the people, but to 
the aristocracy. This was 
not so much the case at first, 
before the university be- 
came an aggregate of col- 
leges. Then a rather poor 
and humble class were en- 
abled, through the small ex- rp, „. w „ r . ^r » tt t^ 

' , " , Tlie Eiglit Hon. Lord Actox, M. A., LL. D., 

pense involved, to acquire Trinity. Professor of Modern History. 

the rudiments of an educa- 
tion, and even to become proficient in the scholastic dialectic. 
But ere long, and with the gradual endowment of different col- 
Iges, the expenses of a student became much greater, and, save 
where scholarships could be obtained, it required some affluence 
before parents could afford to give their sons an academic training. 
Hence, the more fortunate or aristocratic classes came in time 
to contribute the large majority of the student body. Those whose 
intellectual attainments were so unusual as to constitute ways and 
means have never been debarred, but impecunious mediocrity had 
and still has little place or opportunity. It is well to remember, 
in addition, that the Church fostered these universities in their 
infancy, that it deserves unqualified credit for having nursed them 
through their early months, and that it continues to have some con- 
siderable influence over the modern institutions. Finally, the 
growth of Cambridge and Oxford has largely been occasioned by 
lack of rivals in their own class. In this branch or that, other 
institutions have become deservedly famous. Edinburgh has a 


^^HHBHpS???!^?!-— -^ ' 

^Hm^^k^^ ''''*''' 

^^^^^^^^^^K^BSI^^Fl- "''r""'^y> ■ , ,'•: : ^•'■Tt "j-. 




high reputation in moral science; Manchester is renowned for her 
physics, clieniistry, and engineering; and London for her medical 
schools. But Oxford and Cambridge are strong in many branches. 
Financially powerful, they are able to attract the majority of prom- 
ising and eminent men, whence has resulted that remarkable cote- 
rie of unrivaled intellects through whom the above-named univer- 
sities are chiefly known to the outer and foreign world. This char- 
acteristic has its opposite illustrated in the United States, where 
the tendency is centrifugal, no one or two universities or colleges 
having advantages so decided as inevitably to attract most of the 
best minds, and where, in consequence, the best minds are found 
scattered from California to Harvard and Pennsylvania. 

The characteristic peculiar to Cambridge and Oxford, and which 
distinguishes them not only from American but also from all other 
universities in England and elsewhere, is the college system. Thus 
Cambridge is a collection of eighteen colleges which, though nomi- 
nally united to form one institution, are really distinct, inasmuch 

as each is a separate com- 
munity with its own build- 
ings and grounds, its own 
resident students, its own 
lecturers, and Fellows — a 
community which is sup- 
]iorted by its own moneys 
without aid from the univer- 
sity exchequer, and which in 
most matters legislates for 
itself. The system is not 
unlike the American Union 
on a small scale, with its 
cluster of governments and 
their relation to a supreme 
center. The advantages of 
tliis scheme might theoret- 
ically be very great. With 
each college handsomely en- 
dowed and, though manag- 
ing its own affairs, entering 
freely, in addition, into 
those relations of reciproc- 
ity wliicli make for the good of the whole, one can readily im- 
agine an ideal academic (•oiiiuioiiwcalth. And while the present 
condition of the university can scarcely be said to approximate 
very closely to such an academic Utopia, it yet derives from its 

J. .J. Thomson, M. A., i- . U. S., Trinity. 
Professor of Experimental Physics. 



constitution numerous obvioiTS advantages which universities other- 
wise constituted would and do undoubtedly lack. The chief evils 
besetting the university are perhaps more adventitious than inher- 
ent; they are largely finan- 
cial, and arise from carry- 
ing the system of college 
individualism too far. A de- 
scription of the college and 
university organization may 
make this apparent. By its 
endowment a college must 
support a certain number of 
Fellows and scholars. The 
latter form a temporary 
body, while the former are 
more or less permanent, and 
therefore upon them de- 
volves the management of 
the college. Business is 
usually done by a council 
chosen from the Fellows, 
and the election of new Fel- 
lows to fill vacancies is made 
by this select body. The 
head of a college is known 
as the master; he is elected 
by the Fellows save in one 

or two cases, where his appointment rests with the crown or with 
certain wealthy individuals. He lives in the college lodge espe- 
cially built for him, draws a salary large in proportion to the 
wealth of his college, and exerts an influence corresponding to his 

The Fellows are in most cases chosen from those men who have 
achieved the greatest success in an honor course. At Cambridge 
College individualism has progressed so far that the Fellows of, say, 
Magdalen must be Magdalen men, the students of Queens', St Cath- 
erine's, or any other being ineligible save for their own fellowships. 
Oxford obtains perhaps better men on the whole by throwing open 
the fellowships of each particular college to the graduates of all, 
thus producing a wider competition. A fellowship until recently 
was tenable for life, but it has been reduced to about six years, the 
Fellows as a whole, however, retaining the power to extend the 
period of possession. And, further, the holding of a college ofiice 
for fifteen years in general qualifies for the holding of a fellow- 

G. H. Dakwin, M. a., F. E. S., Trinity. 
Plumian Trolessor of Astronomy. 


ship for life, and for a pension as lecturer or tutor. Thus a man 
is able to devote himself to research with little fear that at the 
latter end of his career he will lack the means of suj)port. It is 
perhaps not too much to saj that the offices of college dean, tutor, 
and lecturer are more perquisites than anything else. They are 
meant to keep and attract men of ability and parts. However, 
their existence reacts upon the student body by augmenting the 
expenses of the latter out of proportion to the benefits to be ob- 
tained. For instance, instead of utilizing one set of lecturers for 
one class of subjects, which all students could attend for a small 
fee, each of the larger colleges, at any rate, pays special lecturers, 
drawn from its own Fellows, to speak upon the same subjects each 
to a mere handful of men from their own college only. The tutor 
is another luxury inherited from the middle ages and therefore 
retained, and one for which the students have to pay dearly. The 
chief business of the tutor is not to teach, but to " look after " a 
certain number of students who are theoretically relegated to his 
charge. He looks up their lodgings for them, pays their bills at 
the end of the term, gets them out of scrapes, and draws a large 
salary. The tutorships seem to the writer to be a good illustra- 
tion of how an office necessary to one period persists after that for 
which it was instituted has ceased to exist. When the students 
of Oxford and Cambridge were many of them thirteen and four- 
teen .years of age, as in the fourteenth century, nurses were doubt- 
less necessary, but they are still retained when the greater maturity 
of the students renders them not only unnecessary but at times 
even an impertinence. 

The dean is not, as with us, the head of a department; his 
functions are not so many, his tasks far less onerous. It is before 
a college dean that students are " hauled " for such offenses as 
irregularity at chapel, returning to the college after 12 p. m., 
smoking in college precincts, bringing dogs into the college grounds, 
and other villainous offenses against regulations. A dean must 
also attend chapel. Some colleges require two deans to struggle 
through these complicated and laborious duties, though some pos- 
sessing only a few dozen students succeed in getting along with one. 

The line of demarcation between the university and the col- 
leges is very distinct. The legislative influence of the former ex- 
tends over a coni|)aratively restricted field. All professorial chairs 
and certain lectureships belong to and are paid by the university; 
the latter has the arranging of the curricula, the care of the labo- 
ratories, the disposition of certain noncollegiate scholarships; but, 
broadly speaking, its two functions are the examination of all stu- 
dents and the conferring of degrees. The supreme legislative body 



is tlie senate, and it is composed of all masters of arts, doctors, and 
bachelors of divinity whose names still remain on the university 
books — that is, who continue to pay certain fees into the university 
treasury. In addition to the legislative body there is an executive 
head or council of nineteen, including the chancellor — at present 
the Duke of Devonshire — and the vice-chaiicclldi-. Both these 
bodies must govern accord- 
ing to the statutes, no al- 
teration in which can be ef- 
fected without recourse be- 
ing had to Parliament. The 
senate is a peculiar body, 
and on occasions becomes 
somewhat unwieldy. It con- 
sists at present of some 
6,800 members, of whom 
only 452 are in residence at 
Cambridge. Upon ordinary 
occasions only these 452 
vote upon questions pro- 
posed by the council; but on 
occasions of great moment, 
as when the question of 
granting university degrees 
to women came up, some 
thousands or more of the 
nonresident members, who 
in many ' cases have lost 
touch with the modern uni- 
versity and modern systems of education, swarm to their alma 
mater, annihilate the champions of reform, and are hailed by their 
brethren as the saviors of their university. 

The university's exchequer is supplied partly by its endowment, 
but chiefly by an assessment on the college incomes, a capitation 
tax on all undergraduates, and the fees attending matriculation, 
examinations, and the granting of degrees. The examinations are 
numerous. Every student on entering is required to pass, or to 
claim exemption from, an entrance examination. In either case 
he pays £3 to the university, and upon admission to any lionor 
course or "tripos" to qualify for the degree. of Bachelor of Arts 
£3 more is exacted. The income of the university from these ex- 
amination fees alone amounts to £9,400 per annum, £4,600 of 
which goes to pay the examiners. In America this is supposed 
to be a part of the professor's or instructor's duty, no additional 

K. C. Jebb, Litt. U., M. P., Trinity. 
Kesrius Professor of Greek. 


reimuieratioii is allowed, and lieiicc it does not become necessary 
to make an additional tax upon the students' resources. The con- 
ferring; of degrees is also made a very profitable affair. Each can- 
didate for the degree of B. A. pays out £7 to the voracious 'varsity 

chest, and upon proceeding' 
to the M. A. a further con- 
tribution of £12 is request- 
ed. In this way the univer- 
sity makes about £12,000 a 
year, and, as though this 
was not sufiicient, she re- 
quires a matriculation fee of 
£5 for every student who 
becomes a member. By 
this means another annual 
£5,000 is obtained. It must 
be remembered that these 
fees are entirely separate 
from the college fees. 
When the £5 matriculation 
for the latter is taken into 
consideration and the £8 a 
term (at Trinity) for lec- 
tures, two thirds of which 
the student does not attend, 
when it is understood that 
all this and more does not 
include living expenses, which are by no means slight, and that 
there are three terms instead of two, as with us, it will be ob- 
vious that Cambridge adheres very closely to the rule that to 
them only who have wealth shall her refining influence be given. 
That the greatest universities in existence should render it almost 
totally impossible for aught but the rich to obtain the advantages 
of their unusual educational facilities jars with that idea of democ- 
racy of learning which an American training is apt to foster. But, 
as we shall point out later, an aristocracy of learning may also 
have its uses. 

With all the revenues the university collects from colleges and 
students, amounting in all to about £65,000, Cambridge still finds 
herself poor. Some of the colleges, notably King's and Trinity, 
are extremely wealthy, but tlic university remains, if not exactly 
impecunious, at least on the ragged edge of financial difilculties. 
The various regius and otlier professorships, inadequately endowed 
by the munificence of the crown and of individuals, have each to be 

Henry Sidiiwick, Lift. D., Trinity. 
Knightl)ridj,'e Prufessor of Moral Philosophy. 


augmented from tlie university chest. The continual repairing 
of the old laboratories and scientific apparatus, the salaries to lec- 
turers, to proctors, bedells, and other ofiicers, cause a continual 
drain on the exchequer, which, with the rapidly growing need for 
larger laboratories and newer apparatus, has finally resulted in an 
appeal to the country for the sum of half a million pounds. 

It has been seen that the drains on a student's pocket are very 
considerable at Cambridge, owing to the number of perquisites 
showered by the colleges on their Fellows, and it may appear that 
this state of things is unjust and wrong. At present Oxford and 
Cambridge are practically within the reach of only the moneyed 
population. According, however, to a plausible and frequently 
repeated theory, it is not the function of these universities to meet 
the educational needs of the mediocre poor. The writer's critical 
attitude toward the financial system in vogue at Cambridge is a 
proper one, only on the assumption that a maximum of education 
to all classes alike at a minimum of expense is the final cause and 
desideratum of a university's existence. But if one assumes that 
Oxford and Cambridge exist 
for a different purpose, that 
the chief end they propose 
to themselves is individual 
research, and the advance- 
ment, not the promulgation, 
of learning, it must be ad- 
mitted that their system has 
little that is reprehensible. 
According to this standpoint 
the students only exist by 
courtesy of the dons (a 
name for the Fellows), who 
have a perfect right to im- 
pose upon the students, in 
return for the condescension 
which is shown them, what 
terms they see fit. And 
they argue that this view is 
the historic one. The col- 
leges were originally en- 
dowed solely for the bene- 
fit of a certain limited number of Fellows and scholars. The 
undergraduate body, as it at present exists, is a later growth, whose 
eventual existence and the importance of which to the university 
was probably not anticipated by the college founders. Starting 

Donald MacAlister, M. A., M. D., St. Johus. 
Linacre Lecturer of Physics. 


with tliis^ the defenders of the present regime would point out, in 
addition, that there are other English institutions where the poorer 
classes may be educated, that Cambridge and Oxford are not only 
not bound to take upon themselves this task, but that they actually 
subserve a higher purpose and one just as necessary to the develop- 
ment of English science and letters and to the education of the 
English intellect by specializing in another direction. The good of 
a philosopher's lifelong reflections, they would say, is not always 
manifest, but the teachers who instruct the nation's youth are 
themselves dependent for rational standpoints upon the labor of 
the greater teacher, and they act as the instruments of communi- 
cation between the most learned and the unlettered. So Oxford 
and Cambridge are the sources from whose fountains of wisdom 
and culture flow streams supplying all the academic mills of Brit- 
ain, which in their turn are enabled to feed the inhabitants. It 
would be absurd, they maintain, to insist that the streams and the 
mills could equally well fulfill the same functions. Cambridge 
and Oxford instruct just so far as so doing is compatible with what 
for them is the main end — the furthering of various kinds of re- 
search and the offering of all sorts of inducements in order to keep 
and attract the interested attention of classical butterflies and sci- 
entific worms. How well they succeed in this noble ambition is 
known throughout the civilized world. 

Mr. G, H, Darwin, a son of Charles Darwin, has recently had 
occasion to mention the enormous scientific output of Cambridge 
University. After saying that the Koyal Society is the Academy 
of Sciences in England, and that in its publications appear accounts 
of all the most important scientific discoveries in England and most 
of those in Scotland, Ireland, and other parts of Europe, he goes 
on to state that he examined the Transactions of this society for 
three years and discovered that out of the 5,480 pages published in 
that time 2,418 were contributed by Cambridge men and 1,324 by 

In view of these facts, and despite the shortcomings of this uni- 
versity as a teaching institution, it is to be hoped that private gen- 
erosity will answer her appeal for financial assistance. Her labo- 
ratories are a mine of research, and it is in them and in the men 
who conduct them that Cambridge is perhaps most to be admired. 

The Cavendish Lal)oratory of Physics, where Clerk-Maxwell 
and afterward Lord Ivayleigh taught, and which is at present in the 
hand of their able successor, J. J. Thoms(»ii, is a building of con- 
siderable size and admirably fitted out, but the rajiidly increasing 
number of young physicists who are being allured by the working- 
facilities of the place, and by the fame of Professor Thomson, is 



rendering even tliis splendidly equipj)C'd hall of science inadequate. 
The physiological laboratories are many, they are completely fur- 
nished with appliances, and a large number of students are there 
trained annually under the supervision of one of England's most 
eminent living scientists, Michael Foster, and his scarcely less able 
associates — Langley, Hardy, and Gaskell. Chemistry, zoology, bot- 
any, anatomy, and geology have each their well-appointed halls 
and masterly exponents. The names MacAlister, Liveing, Dewar, 
Xewton, Sedgwick, Marshall Ward, and Hughes are not easily 
matched in any other one institution. Indeed, it is when one stops 
to consider the intellects at 
Cambridge that it becomes a 
dangerous matter to insti- 
tute comparisons, and to say 
that this discipline or that 
is most rich in eminent in- 
terpreters. In science, at 
any rate, and in all branches 
of science, Cambridge stands 
alone. Not even Oxford 
can be considered for a mo- 
ment as in the same class 
with her. And of all the 
sciences it is undoubtedly in 
mathematics and astronomy 
that the supremacy of Cam- 
bridge is most pronounced. 
The names of Profs. Sir G. 
G. Stokes and Sir R. S. Ball 
will be familiar to every 
reader, while those of Profs. 
Forsythe and G. H. Dar- 
win and Mr. Baker will be 

familiar to all mathematicians. In classics Cambridge, while not 
possessing a similar monopoly of almost all the talent, still holds 
her own even with Oxford. Professors Jebb, Mayor, and Ridge- 
way, and Drs. Yerrall, Jackson, and Frazer constitute a group 
of men second to none in the subjects of which they treat. Pro- 
fessor Jebb is also one of the university's two representatives 
in Parliament. In philosophy Cambridge has two men, Henry 
Sidgwick and James Ward, the former of whom is perhaps by 
common consent the first living authority on moral science, while 
the latter ranks among the first of living psychologists. These 
men, while representing very different philosophical standpoints. 

Sir G. G. Stakes, Bart., M. A.. LL. D.. Se. D., 
F. E. S., Pembroke. Lueasiau rmfessor of 



unite in o})pusition not only to the Hegeliun movement, which, 
led by Caird and Bradley of Oxford, Seth and Stirling of Edin- 
burgh, threatens the invasion of England, but also to the Spen- 
cerian jjhilosophy. The latter system has not many adherents 
at either university, but the writer has been told by Professor 
Sully that the ascendency of the neo-Hegelian and other systems 
is by no means so pronounced elsewhere in England. The Spen- 
cerian biology, on the contrary, has been largely defended at Cam- 
bridge, while Weisniannism, for the most part, is repudiated there 
and at Oxford. 

The teaching at Cambridge, as at all universities, is of many 
grades. In many subjects the lectures are not meant to give a 

student sufficient material 
to get him through an ex- 
amination, and a " coach " 
becomes requisite, or at any 
rate is employed. This sys- 
tem of coaching has attained 
large dimensions; its results 
are often good, but it means 
an additional expense and 
seems an incentive to lazi- 
ness, making it unnecessary 
for a student to exert his 
own mental aggressiveness 
or ])owers of application as 
he who fights his own bat- 
tles must do. The Socratic 
form of instruction, produc- 
ing a more intimate and un- 
restricted relation between 
instructor and student, and 
which is largely in operation 
in the States, is little prac- 
ticed in England. In science the methods of instruction at Cam- 
l)ri(1gc are ideal. That practical acquaintance with the facts of 
Xatui-e which ITuxley and Tyndall taught is the only true means 
of kiKiwitig Xatui-e, is the hey according to whii-li nil biological and 
physical instruction at these institutions is conducted. 

Tn the last half dozen years two radical steps have been taken 
by botli Oxford mill ( 'iniilu'idge — steps leading, to many respect- 
able minds, in diainetrically opposite directions. The step back- 
ward (in the writer's view) occurred when the universities, after 
niucli excitement, defeated with slaughter the proposition grant- 

.James Ward, Se. D., Trinity. 
Professor of Meutal Philosophy and Logic. 


ing imiversitj degrees to women. It was simply proposed that the 
students of ISTewnham and Girton, who should successfully com- 
pete with male students in an honor course, should have an equal 
right with the latter to receive the usual degrees from their alma 
mater. After industrious inquiry among those who were foremost 
in supporting and opposing this movement the writer has unearthed 
no objection of weight against the change. " If the women were 
granted degrees they would have votes in the senate," and " It never 
has been done " — these are the two reasons most persistently urged 
in defense of the conservative view; while justice and utility alike 
appear to be for once, at any rate, unequivocally on the side of the 
women. Prejudice defeated progress, and students celebrated the 
auspicious occasion with bonfires. The step forward was taken 
when the universities and their colleges decided to throw open their 
gates to the graduates of other universities in England, America, 
and elsewhere for the purpose of advanced study. But here, as in 
other things, Cambridge leads the way, and Oxford follows fal- 
teringly. The advanced students at Cambridge are treated like 
Cambridge men, they have the status of Bachelors of Arts, and 
possess in most respects the advantages, such as they are, of the 
latter; while at Oxford the advanced students are a restricted class, 
with restricted advantages, and their relation to the university is 
not that of the other students. In Cambridge the movement which 
has resulted in the present admirable condition of affairs was 
largely brought about by the zeal and enterprise of Dr. Donald 
MacAlister, of St. John's College, the University Lecturer in 
Therapeutics, a man of wide sympathies and ability, and whose 
name is closely associated with this university's metamorphosis into 
a more modern institution. 




EVERY naturalist has in his heart a warm affection for the 
author of the Malay Archipelago, and is glad to acknowledge 
with gratitude his debt to this great explorer and thinker and 
teacher who gave us the law of natural selection independently of 
Darwin. When the history of our century is written, the fore- 
most place among those who have guided the thought of their gen- 
eration and opened new fields for discovery will assuredly be gi^'en 
to Wallace and Darwin. 

* Dodd, Mead & Co., New York, 1899. 

VOL. LVI. 3 


Few of the great men who have helped to make our century 
memorable in the history of thought are witnesses of its end, and 
all who have profited by the labors of Wallace will rejoice that 
he has been permitted to stand on the threshold of a new century, 
and, reviewing the past, to give us his impressions of the wonder- 
ful century. 

AVe men of the nineteenth century, he says, have not been 
slow to praise it. The wise and the foolish, the learned and the 
unlearned, the poet and the pressman, the rich and the poor, alike 
Bwell the chorus of admiration for the marvelous inventions and 
discoveries of our own age, and especially for those innumerable 
applications of science which now form part of our daily life, and 
which remind us every hour of our immense superiority over our 
comparatively ignorant forefathers. 

Our century, he tells us, has been characterized by a marvelous 
and altogether unprecedented progress in the knowledge of the 
universe and of its complex forces, and also in the application of 
that knowledge to an infinite variety of purposes calculated, if 
properly utilized, to supply all the wants of every human being 
and to add greatly to the comforts, the enjoyments, and the re- 
finements of life. The bounds of human knowledge have been 
so far extended that new vistas have opened to us in nearly all 
directions where it had been thought that we could never pene- 
trate, and the more we learn the more we seem capable of learn- 
ing in the ever-widening expanse of the universe. It may, he says, 
be truly said of the men of science that they have become as gods 
knowing good and evil, since they have been able not only to utilize 
the most recondite powers of Nature in their service, but have in 
many cases been able to discover the sources of much of the evil 
that afflicts humanity, to abolish pain, to lengthen life, and to add 
immensely to the intellectual as well as the physical enjoyments 
of our race. 

In order to get any adequate measure for comparison with the 
nineteenth century we must take not any preceding century, but 
the whole preceding epoch of human history. We must take into 
consideration not only the changes effected in science, in the arts, 
in the possibilities of human intercourse, and in the extension of 
our knowledge both of the earth and of the whole visible universe, 
but the means our century has furnished for future advancement. 

Our author, who has borne such a distinguished part in the 
intellectual progress of our century, shows clearly that in means 
for the discovery of truth, for the extension of our control over 
l^ature, and for the alleviation of the ills that beset mankind, the 
inheritance of the twentieth centurv from the nineteenth will be 


greater than our own inheritance from all the centuries that have 
gone before. 

Some may regret that, while only one third of Wallace's book 
is devoted to the successes of the wonderful century, the author 
finds the remaining two thirds none too much for the enumeration 
of some of its most notable failures; but it is natural for one who 
has borne his own distinguished part in all this marvelous progress 
to ask where the century has fallen short of the enthusiastic hopes 
of its leaders, what that it might have done it has failed to do, and 
what lies ready at the hand of the workers who will begin the new 
century with this rich inheritance of new thoughts, new methods, 
and new resources. 

The more we realize the vast possibilities of human welfare 
which science has given us the more, he says, must we recognize 
our total failure to make any adequate use of them. 

Along with this continuous progress in science, in the arts, 
and in wealth-production, which has dazzled our imaginations 
to such an extent that we can hardly admit the possibility of any 
serious evils having accompanied or been caused by it, there has, 
he says, been many serious failures — intellectual, social, and moral. 
Some of our great thinkers, he says, have been so impressed by the 
terrible nature of these failures that they have doubted whether 
the final result of the work of the century has any balance of good 
over evil, of happiness over misery, for mankind at large. 

Wallace is no pessimist, but one who believes that the first 
step in retrieving our failures is to perceive clearly where we have 
failed, for he says there can be no doubt of the magnitude of the 
evils that have grown up or persisted in the midst of all our tri- 
umphs over natural forces and our unprecedented growth in wealth 
and luxury, and he holds it not the least important part of his work 
to call attention to some of these failures. 

With ample knowledge of the sources of health, we allow and 
even compel the bulk of our population to live and work under 
conditions which greatly shorten life. In our mad race for wealth 
we have made gold more sacred than human life; we have made 
life so hard for many that suicide and insanity and crime are alike 
increasing. The struggle for wealth has been accompanied by a 
reckless destruction of the stored-up products of Nature, which is 
even more deplorable because irretrievable, l^ot only have forest 
growths of many hundred years been cleared away, often with dis- 
astrous consequences, but the whole of the mineral treasures of 
the earth's surface, the slow productions of long-past eras of time 
and geological change, have been and are still being exhausted with 
reckless disregard of our duties to posterity and solely in the in- 


terest of landlords and capitalists. With all our labor-saving ma- 
chinery and all our command over the forces of I^ature, the strug- 
gle for existence has become more tierce than ever before, and 
year by year an ever-increasing proportion of our people sink into 
paupers' graves. 

When the brightness of future ages shall have dimmed the, 
glamour of our material progress he says that the judgment of his- 
tory will surely be that our ethical standard was low and that we 
were unworthy to possess the great and beneficent powers that sci- 
ence had placed in our hands, for, instead of devoting the highest 
powers of our greatest men to remedy these evils, we see the gov- 
ernments of the most advanced nations arming their people to the 
teeth and expending most of the wealth and all the resources of 
their science in preparation for the destruction of life, of property, 
and of happiness. 

He reminds us that the first International Exhibition, in 1851, 
fostered the hope that men would soon perceive that peace and 
commercial intercourse are essential to national well-being. Poets 
and statesmen joined in hailing the dawn of an era of peaceful in- 
dustry, and exposition following exposition taught the nations how 
much they have to learn from each other and how much to give 
to each other for the benefit and happiness of all. 

Dueling, which had long prevailed, in spite of its absurdity and 
harmfulness, as a means of settling disputes, was practically abol- 
ished by the general diffusion of a spirit of intolerance of private 
war; and as the same public opinion which condemns it should, 
if consistent, also condemn war between nations, many thought 
they perceived the dawn of a wiser policy between nations. 

Yet so far are we from progress toward its" abolition that the 
latter half of the century has witnessed not the decay, but a re- 
vival of the war spirit, and at its end we find all nations loaded 
with the burden of increasing armies and navies. 

The armies are continually being equipped with new and more 
deadly weapons at a cost which strains the resources of even the 
most wealthy nations and im]:)overishes the mass of the people by 
increasing burdens of debt and taxation, and all this as a means 
of settling disputes which have no sufficient cause and no relation 
whatever to the well-being of the communities Avhich engage in 

The evils of war do not cease with the awful loss of life and 
destruction of property which are their immediate results, since 
they form the excuse for inordinate increase of armaments — an in- 
crease which has been intensified by the application to war purposes 
of those mechanical inventions and scientific discoveries which, 


properly used, should bring peace aud plenty to all, but which when 
seized upon by the spirit of militarism directly lead to enmity 
among nations and to the misery of the people. 

The first steps in this military development were the adoption 
of a new rifle by the Prussian army in 1840, the application of 
steam to ships of war in 1840, and the use of armor for battle ships 
in 1859. The remainder of the century has witnessed a mad race 
between the nations to increase the death-dealing power of their 
weapons and to add to the number and efficiency of their armies, 
while all the resources of modern science have been utilized in 
order to add to the destructive poAver of cannon and both the de- 
fensive and the offensive power of ships. The inability of indus- 
trious laboring men to gain any due share of the benefits of our 
progress in scientific knowledge is due, beyond everything else, to 
the expense of withdrawing great armies of men in the prime of 
life from productive labor, joined to the burden of feeding and 
clothing them and of keeping weapons and ammunition, ships, and 
fortifications in a state of readiness, of continually renewing stores 
of all kinds, of pensions, and of all the laboring men who must, be- 
sides making good the destruction caused by war, be withdrawn 
from productive labor and be supported by others that they may 
support the army. 

And what a horrible mockery is this wdien view^ed in the light 
of either Christianity or advancing civilization! All the nations 
armed to the teeth and watching stealthily for some occasion to 
use their vast armaments for their own aggrandizement and for 
the injury, of their neighbors are Christian nations, but their Chris- 
tian governments do not exist for the good of the governed, still 
less for the good of humanity or civilization, but for the aggran- 
dizement and greed and lust of the ruling classes. 

The devastation caused by the tyrants and conquerors of the 
middle ages and of antiquity has been reproduced in our times by 
the rush to obtain wealth. Even the lust of conquest, in order 
to obtain slaves and tribute and great estates, by means of which 
the ruling classes could live in boundless luxury, so characteristic 
of the earlier civilization, is reproduced in our time. 

Witness the recent conduct of the nations of Europe toward 
Crete and Greece, upholding the most terrible despotism in the 
world because each hopes for a favorable opportunity to obtain 
some advantage, leading ultimately to the largest share of the spoil. 

Witness the struggles in Africa and Asia, where millions of 
foreign people may be enslaved and bled for the benefit of their 
new rulers. 

The whole w^orld, says Wallace, is but a gambling table. Just 


as gambling deteriorates and demoralizes the individual, so the 
greed for dominion demoralizes governments. The welfare of the 
people is little cared for, except so far as to make them submissive 
taxpayers, enabling the ruling and moneyed classes to extend their 
sway over new territories and to create well-paid places and ex- 
citing work for their sons and relatives. 

Hence, says Wallace, comes the force that ever urges on the 
increase of armaments and the extension of empire. Great vested 
interests are at stake, and ever-gTowing pressure is brought to bear 
upon the too-willing governments in the name of the greatness 
of the country, the extension of commerce, or the advance of civili- 
zation. This state of things is not progress, but retrogression. 
It will be held by the historian of the future to show that we of 
the nineteenth century were morally and socially unfit to possess 
the enormous powers for good and evil which the rapid advance of 
scientific discovery has given us, that our boasted civilization was 
in many respects a mere superficial veneer, and that our methods 
of government were not in accord with either Christianity or civi- 

Comparing the conduct of these modern nations, who call them- 
selves Christian and civilized, with that of the Spanish conquerors 
of the West Indies, Mexico, and Peru, and making some allow- 
ances for differences of race and public opinion, Wallace says there 
is not much to choose between them. 

Wealth and territory and native labor were the real objects in 
both cases, and if the Spaniards were more cruel by nature and 
more reckless in their methods the results were much the same. 
In both cases the country was conquered and thereafter occupied 
and governed by the conquerors frankly for their own ends, and 
with little regard for the feelings or the well-being of the con- 
quered. If the Spaniards exterminated the natives of the West 
Indies, we, he says, have done the same thing in Tasmania and 
about the same in temperate Australia. Their belief that they 
were really serving God in converting the heathen, even at the 
point of the sword, was a genuine belief, shared by priests and 
conquerors alike — not a mere sham as ours is when we defend our 
conduct by the plea of " introducing the blessings of civilization." 

It is quite possible, says Wallace, that both the conquest of 
Mexico and Peru by the Spaniards and our conquest of South Af- 
rica may have been real steps in advance, essential to human prog- 
ress, and helping on the future reign of true civilization and the 
well-being of the human race. But if so, we have been and are 
unconscious agents in hastening the " far-off divine event." We 
deserve no credit for it. Our aims have been for the most part 


sordid and selfish, and our rule has often been largely influenced 
and often entirely directed by the necessity of finding well-paid 
places for young men with influence, and also by the constant de- 
mands for fresh markets by the influential class of merchants and 

More general diffusion of the conviction that while all share 
the burdens of war, such good as comes from it is appropriated by 
the few, will no doubt do much to discourage wars; but we must 
ask whether there may not be another incentive to war which Wal- 
lace does not give due weight — whether love of fighting may not 
have something to do with wars. 

As we look backward over history we are forced to ask whether 
the greed and selfishness of the wealthy and influential and those 
who hope to gain are the only causes of war. We went to war 
with Spain because our people in general demanded war. If we 
have been carried further than we intended and are now fighting 
for objects which we did not foresee and may not approve, this 
is no more than history might have led us to expect. War with 
Spain was popular with nearly all our people a year ago, and, while 
wise counsels might have stemmed this popular tide, there can be 
no doubt that it existed, for the evil passions of the human race 
are the real cause of wars. 

The great problem of the twentieth century, as of all that have 
gone before, is the development of the wise and prudent self-re- 
straint which represses natural passions and appetites for the sake 
of higher and better ends. 




ON several occasions during the past ten years, and especially 
at the Brooklyn meeting of the American Association for the 
Advancement of Science in 1894, the writer has endeavored to 
show that most of the newspaper stories of deaths from spider bite 
are either grossly exaggerated or based upon misinformation. He 
has failed to thoroughly substantiate a single case of death from a 
so-called spider bite, and has concluded that there is only one spider 
in the United States which is capable of inflicting a serious bite — 
viz., Latrodectus mactans, a species belonging to a genus of world- 
wide distribution, the other species of which have universally a 

* A paper read before Section F of the American Association for the Advancement of 
Science at the Columbus meeting in August, 1899. 



bad reputation among the peoples whose country they inhabit. 
In spite of these conclusions, the accuracy of which has been tested 
with great care, there occur in the newspapers every year stories 
of spider bites of great seriousness, often resulting in death or the 
amputation of a limb. The details of negative evidence and of 
lack of positive evidence need not be entered upon here, except 
in so far as to state that in the great majority of these cases the 
spider supposed to have inflicted the bite is not even seen, while 
in almost no case is the spider seen to inflict the bite; and it is a 
well-known fact that there are practically no spiders in our more 
northern States which are able to pierce the human skin, except 

DiKj-EREKT Staoes OF CoNORiiiNCs SANGUisuGCS. Twicc natural size. (After Marlatt.) 

upon a portion of the body where the skin is especially delicate 
and which is seldom exposed. There arises, then, the probability 
that there are other insects capable of piercing tough skin, the re- 
sults of whose bites may be more or less painful, the wounds being 
attributed to spiders on account of the universally bad reputation 
which these arthropods seem to have. 

These sentences formed the introduction to a paper read by 
the writer at a meeting of the Entomological Society of Wash- 
ington, held June 1st last. I went on to state that some of these 
insects are rather well known, as, for example, the blood-sucking 
cone-nose (Conorhinus sancjvisugns) and the two-spotted corsairs 


{Basatus thoracicus and R. biguitatus), both of which occur, how- 
ever, most numerously in the South and West, and then spoke of 
Melanotestis picipes, a species which had been especially called to 
my attention by Mr. Frank M. Jones, of Wilmington, Del., who 
submitted the report of the attending physician in a case of two 
punctures by this insect inflicted upon the thumb and forefinger of 
a middle-aged man in Delaware. I further reported upon occa- 
sional somewhat severe results from the bites * of the old Eeduvius 
personatus, now placed in the genus Opsicostes, and stated that a 
smaller species, Coriscus suhcoleoptratus, had bitten me rather se- 
verely under circumstances similar to some of those which have 
given rise in the past to spider-bite stories. In the course of the 
discussion which followed the reading of this paper, Mr. Schwarz 
stated that twice during the present spring he had been bitten 
rather severely by Melanotestis picipes which had entered his room, 
probably attracted by light. He described it as the worst biter 
among heteropterous insects with which he had had any experi- 
ence, and said he thought it was commoner than usual in Wash- 
ington during the present year. 

No account of this meeting was published, but within a few 
weeks thereafter several persons suffering from swollen faces vis- 
ited the Emergency Hospital in Washington and complained that 
they had been bitten by some insect while asleep; that they did 
not see the insect, and could not describe it. This happened dur- 
ing one of the temporary periods when newspaper men are most 
actively engaged in hunting for items. There was a dearth of 
news. These swollen faces offered an opportunity for a good story, 
and thus began the " kissing-bug " scare which has grown to such 
extraordinary proportions. I have received the following letter 
and clipping from Mr. J. F. McElhone, of the Washington Post, 
in reply to a request for information regarding the origin of this 
curious epidemic: 

" Washington, D. C, August I4, 1899. 

"Dr. L. 0. Howard, Cosmos Club., Washington, D. C. 

"Dear Sir: Attached please find clipping from the Washing- 
ton Post of June 20, 1899, being the first story that ever appeared 
in print, so far as I can learn, of the depredations of the Melano- 
testis picipes, better known now as the kissing bug. In my rounds 
as police reporter of the Post, I noticed, for two or three days 
before writing this story, that the register of the Emergency Hos- 
pital of this city contained unusually frequent notes of ' bug-bite ' 

* When the word " bite " is used in connection with these bugs, it must be remembered 
that it is really a puncture made with the sharp beak or proboscis (see illustration). 



cases. Investigating, on the evening of June 19th I learned from 
the hospital physicians that a noticeable number of patients were 
applying daily for treatment for very red and extensive swellings, 
usually on the lips, and apparently the result of an insect bite. 
This led to the writing of the story attached. 

" Very truly yours, 

"James F. McElhone." 

It would be an interesting computation for one to figure 
out the amount of newspaper space which was filled in the suc- 
ceeding two months by items and articles about the " kissing 
.^_________«_____^««,.^_«._ bug." Other Washington 

newspapers took the matter 
up. The jSTew York, Phila- 
delphia, and Baltimore pa- 
pers soon followed suit. 
The epidemic spread east to 
Boston and west to Cali- 

Ube Masbtnoton poet. 

TUESDAY, JUNE 20, 1899. 


Several Patients Have Appeared at the 
HospitHls V«ry liadly f'oisoned. 

Lookout for the new bug. It is an in- 
sidious insect that bite:^ without causing 
pain and escapes unnoticed. But after- 
ward the place where it has bitten swells 
to ten times its normal size. The Emerg- 
ency Hospital has had several victims 
of this insect as patients lately and thii 
number is increasing. Application for 
treatment by other victims are being 
made at other hospitals, and the mat- 
ter threater.s to become something like 
a plagre. None of thoge who have been 
bitten saw the msect whose sting proves 
so disastrous. One old negro went to 
sleep and woke up to find both his eyes 
nearly closed by the swelling from his 
nose and cheeks, where the insect had 
alighted. The lips seems to be the favor- 
ite point of attack. 

William Smith, a newspaper agent, of 
327 Trumbull street, went to the Emerg- 
ency last night with his upper lip swol- 
len to many times Its natural size. The 
symptoms are in every case the same, 
and there is indication erf pol.sonlng from 
an insect's bite. The matter is begin- 
nmg to interest the physicians, and ev- 
ery patient who comes in with the now 
weL-kiiown marks is closely questioned 
as to the description of the Iftsect. No 
one has yet been found who has seen it. 

fornia. By " epidemic " is 
meant the newspaper epi- 
demic, for every insect bite 
where the biter was not at 
once recognized was attrib- 
uted to the popular and 
somewhat mysterious crea- 
ture which had been given 
such an attractive name, and 
there can be no doubt that 
some mosquito, flea, and 
bedbug bites which had by 
accident resulted in a great- 
er than the usual severity 
were attributed to the pre- 
^■ailing oscillatory insect. 
Ill Washington professional 
beggars seized the opportu- 
nity, and went around from 
door to door with bandaged 
faces and hands, complaining that they were poor men and 
had been thrown out of work by the results of " kissing-bug " 
stings! One beggar came' to the writer's door and offered, in sup- 
port of his plea, a card supposed to be signed by the head surgeon 
of the Emergency Hospital. In a small town in central New York 
a man arrested on the charge of swindling entered the plea that 


he was temporarily insane owing to the bite of the '' kissing bug." 
Entomologists all through the East were also much overworked 
answering questions asked them about the mysterious creature. 
Men of local entomological reputations were applied to by news- 
paper reporters, by their friends, by people who knew them, in 
church, on the street, and under all conceivable circumstances. 
Editorials were written about it. Even the Scientific American 
published a two-column article on the subject; and, while no inter- 
national complications have resulted as yet, the kissing bug, in its 
own way and in the short space of two months, produced almost 
as much of a scare as did the San Jose scale in its five years of 
Eastern excitement. Now, however, the newspapers have had their , 
fun, the necessary amount of space has been filled, and the sub- 
ject has assumed a castaneous hue, to Latinize the slang of a few 
years back. 

The experience has been a most interesting one. To the reader 
familiar with the old accounts of the hysterical craze of south Eu- 
rope, based upon supposed tarantula bites, there can not fail to 
come the suggestion that we have had in miniature and in mod- 
ernized form, aided largely by the newspapers, a hysterical craze 
of much the same character. From the medical and psychological 
point of view this aspect is interesting, and deserves investigation 
by competent persons. 

As an entomologist, however, the writer confines himself to 
the actual authors of the bites so far as he has been able to deter- 
mine them. It seems undoubtedly true that while there has been 
a great cry there has been very little wool. It is undoubtedly 
true, also, that there have been a certain number of bites by hete- 
ropterous insects, some of which have resulted in considerable swell- 
ing. It seems true that Melanotestis picipes and Opsicostes per- 
sonatus have been more numerous than usual this year, at least 
around Washington. They have been captured in a number of 
instances while biting people, and have been brought to the writ- 
er's ofiice for determination in such a way that there can be no 
doubt about the accuracy of this statement. As the story, went 
West, bites by Conorhinus sanguisuga and Basatus thoracicus were 
without doubt termed " kissing-bug " bites. With regard to other 
cases, the writer has known of an instance where the mosquito bite 
upon the lip of a sleeping child produced a very considerable swell- 
ing. Therefore he argues that many of these reported cases may 
have been nothing more than mosquito bites. With nervous and 
excitable individuals the symptoms of any skin puncture become 
exaggerated not only in the mind of the individual but in their 
actual characteristics, and not only does this refer to cases of skin 



puncture but to certain skin eruptions, and to some of those early 
summer skin troubles whicli are known as strawberry rash, etc. 
It is in this aspect of the subject that the resemblance to taran- 
tulism comes in, and this is the result of the hysterical wave, if it 
may be so termed. 

Six different heteropterous insects were mentioned in the early 
part of this article, and it will be appropriate to give each of them 
some little detailed consideration, taking the species of Eastern dis- 
tribution first, since the scare had its origin in the East, and has 
there perhaps been more fully exploited. 

Opsicosies personatus, also known as Beduvius personatus, and 
which has been termed the " cannibal bug," is a European species 
introduced into this country at some unknown date, but possibly 
following close in the wake of the bedbug. In Europe this species 
haunts houses for the purpose of preying upon bedbugs. Riley, 
in his well-known article on Poisonous Insects, published in Wood's 
Reference Handbook of Medical Science, states that if a fly or an- 
other insect is offered to the cannibal bug it is first touched with 
the antennae, a sudden spring follows, and at the same time the 
beak is thrust into the prey. The young specimens are covered 

Melanotestis ABDOMINALI9. Female at ri^'lit ; 
male at left, with eular^'ed beak at side. 
Twice natural size. (Original.) 

Head and Proboscis of Coxoriiinub 
8AN0UISVGUS. (After Marlatt.) 

with a glutinous substance, to which bits of dirt and dust adhere. 
They move deliberately, with a long pause between each step, the 
step being taken in a jerky manner. The distribution of the spe- 
cies, as given by Router in his Monograph of the Genus Beduvius^ 
is Europe to the middle of Sweden, Caucasia, Asia Minor, Algeria, 
Madeira; North America, Canada, New York, Philadelphia, In- 
diana; Tasmania, Au.stralia — from whicli it appears that the insect 
is already practically ff>sinopolitan, and in fact may almost be 


termed a household insect. The collections of the United States 
National Museum and of Messrs. Heidemann and Chittenden, of 
Washington, D. C, indicate the following localities for this spe- 
cies: Locust Hill, Ya.; Washington, D. C; Baltimore, Md. ; Ith- 
aca, ]Sr. Y. ; Cleveland, Ohio; Keokuk, Iowa. 

The bite of this species is said to be very painful, more so than 
that of a bee, and to be followed by numbness (Lintner). One of 
the cases brought to the writ- 
er's attention this summer 
was that of a Swedish serv- 
ant girl, in which the insect 
was caught, where the sting 
was upon the neck, and 
was followed by considerable 
swelling, Le Conte, in de- / 

scribing it under the SVno- Coriscis subcoleoptratis : «, wingless form; 
1 rt 1 • ^ b, wincred form ; c, proboscis. All t\vi(je 

nymical name Beduvius pun- natural size. (Original.) 

gens, gives Georgia as the lo- 
cality, and makes the following statement : '' This species is re- 
markable for the intense pain caused by its bite. I do not know 
whether it ever willingly plunges its rostrum into any person, but 
when caught or unskillfully handled it always stings. In this case 
the pain is almost equal to that of the bite of a snake, and the 
swelling and irritation which result from it will sometimes last for 
a week. In very weak and irritable constitutions it may even 
prove fatal." * 

The second Eastern species is Melanotestis picipes. This and 
the closely allied and possibly identical M. ahdominalis are not 
rare in the United States, and have been found all along the At- 
lantic States, in the West and South, and also in Mexico. They 
live underneath stones and logs, and run swiftly. Both sexes of 
M. picipes in the adult are fully winged, but the female of M. ah- 
dominalis is usually found in the short-winged condition. Prof. P. 
R. Uhler writes (in litt.): "Melanotestis ahdominalis is not rare in 
this section (Baltimore), but the winged female is a great rarity. 
At the present time I have not a specimen of the winged female in 
my collection. I have seen specimens from the South, in l^orth 
Carolina and Florida, but I do not remember one from ^Maryland. 
I am satisfied that M. picipes is distinct from M. ahdominalis. I 
have not known the two species to unite sexually, but I have seen 
them both united to their proper consorts. Both species are some- 
times found under the same flat stone or log, and they both hiber- 

*■ Proceedings of the Academy of Nqtiual Sciences of Philadelphia, vol. vii, p. 404, 


nate in our valleys beneath stones and rubbish in loamy soils." 
Specimens in Washington collections show the following localities 
for M. ahdominalis : Baltimore, Md. ; Washington, D. C; Wil- 
mington, Del.; New Jersey; Long Island; Fort Bliss, Texas; 
Louisiana; and Keokuk, Iowa; and for M. picipes, Washington, 
D, C; Roslyn, Va.; Baltimore, Md.; Derby, Conn.; Long Island; 
a series labeled ISTew Jersey; Wilmington, Del.; Keokuk, Iowa; 
Cleveland and Cincinnati, Ohio; Louisiana; Jackson, Miss.; Bar- 
ton County, Mo.; Fort Bliss, Texas; San Antonio, Texas; Cres- 
cent City, Fla.; Holland, S. C. 

This insect has been mentioned several times in entomological 
literature. The first reference to its bite probably was made by 
Townend Glover in the Annual Report of the Commissioner of 
Agriculture for 1875 (page 130). In Maryland, he states, M. 
picipes is found under stones, moss, logs of wood, etc., and is ca- 
pable of inflicting a severe wound with its rostrum or piercer. In 
1888 Dr. Lintner, in his Fourth Report as State Entomologist of 
New York (page 110), quotes from a correspondent in Natchez, 
Miss., concerning this insect: " I send a specimen of a fly not known 
to us here. A few days ago it punctured the finger of my wife, in- 
flicting a painful sting. The swelling was rapid, and for several 
days the wound was quite annoying." Until recent years this 
insect has not been known to the writer as occurring in houses 
with any degree of frequency. A May, 1895, however, I re- 
ceived a specimen from an esteemed correspondent — Dr. J. M. 
Shaffer, of Keokuk, Iowa — together with a letter written on May 
7th, in which the statement was made that four specimens flew 
into his window the night before. The insect, therefore, is at- 
tracted to light or is becoming attracted to light,- is a night-flier, 
and enters houses through open windows. Among the several cases 
coming under the writer's observation of bites by this insect, one 
has been reported by the well-known entomologist Mr. Charles 
Dury, of Cincinnati, Ohio, in which this species (M. picipes) bit a 
man on the back of the hand, making a bad sore. In another case,, 
where the insect was brought for our determination and proved 
to be this species, the bite was upon the cheek, and the swelling 
was said to be great, but with little pain. In a third case, occur- 
ring at Holland, S. C, the symptoms were more serious. The 
patient was bitten upon the end of the middle finger, and stated 
that the first paroxysm of pain was about like that resulting from 
a hornet or a bee sting, but almost immediately it grew ten times 
more painful, with a feeling of weakness followed by vomiting. 
The pain was felt to shoot up the arm to the under jaw, and the 
sickness lasted for a number of days. A fourth case, at Fort Bliss. 



Texas, is interesting as having occurred in bed. The patient was 
bitten on the hand, with very painful results and bad swelling. 

The third of the Eastern species, Coriscus suhcoleoptratus, is 
said by Uhler to have a general distribution in the Northern States, 
and is like the species immediately preceding a native insect. 
There is no record of any bite by this species, and it is introduced 
here for the reason that it attracted the writer's attention crawl- 
ing upon the walls of an earth closet in Greene County, ISTew York, 
where on one occasion it bit him between the fingers. The pain 
was sharp, like the prick of a pin, but only a faint swelling fol- 
lowed, and no further inconvenience. The insect is mentioned, 

Rasatus biouttatus. Twice natu- 
ral size. (Original.) 

Eeduvius (Opsicostesi per- 
sonatus. Twice natural 
size. (Original.) 

however, for the reason that, occurring in such situations, it is one 
of the forms which are liable to carry pathogenic bacteria. 

There remain for consideration the Southern and Western 
forms — Basatus thoracicus and R. higuttatus, and Conorliinus san- 

The two-spotted corsair, as Rasatus higuttatus is popularly 
termed, is said by Riley to be found frequently in houses in the 
Southern States, and to prey npon bedbugs. Lintner, referring 
to the fact that it preys upon bedbugs, says : " It evidently delights 
in human blood, but prefers taking it at second hand." Dr. A. 
Davidson, formerly of Los Angeles, Cal., in an important paper 
entitled So-called Spider Bites and their Treatment, published in 
the Therapeutic Gazette of February 15, 1897, arrives at the con- 
clusion that almost all of the so-called spider bites met with in 
southern California are produced by no spider at all, but by Rasatus 
higuttatus. The symptoms which he describes are as follows: 
" Next day the injured part shows a local cellulitis, with a central 


dark spot; around this spot there frequently appears a IjiiUous ves- 
icle about the size of a ten-cent piece, and filled with a dark gru- 
mous fluid; a small ulcer forms underneath the vesicle, the necrotic 
area being generally limited to the central part, while the surround- 
ing tissues are more or less swollen and somewhat painful. In a few 
days, with rest and proper care, the swelling subsides, and in a week 
all traces of the cellulitis are usually gone. In some of the cases 
no vesicle forms at the point of injury, the formation probably de- 
pending on the constitutional vitality of the individual or the 
amount of poison introduced." The explanation of the severity 
of the wound suggested by Dr. Davidson, and in which the writer 
fully concurs with him, is not that the insect introduces any spe- 
cific poison of its own, but that the poison introduced is probably 
accidental and contains the ordinary putrefactive germs which may 
adhere to its proboscis. Dr. Davidson's treatment was corrosive 
sublimate — 1 to 500 or 1 to 1,000 — locally applied to the wound, 
keeping the necrotic part bathed in the solution. The results have 
in all cases been favorable. Uliler gives the distribution of R. 
higuttatus as Arizona, Texas, Panama, Para, Cuba, Louisiana, West 
Virginia, and California. After a careful study of the material 
in the United States !N^ational Museum, Mr. Heidemann has de- 
cided that the specimens of Basatiis from the southeastern part 
of the country are in reality Say's R. higuttatus, while those from 
the Southwestern States belong to a distinct species answering more 
fully, with slight exceptions, to the description of Stal's Rasatus 
thoracicus. The writer has recently received a large series of R. 
tlioracicus from Mr. H. Brown, of Tucson, Arizona, and had a dis- 
agreeable experience wath the same species in April, 1898, at San 
Jose de Guaymas, in the State of Sonora, Mexico. He had not 
seen the insect alive before, and was sitting at the supper table with 
his host — a ranchero of cosmopolitan language. One of the bugs, 
attracted by the light, flew in with a buzz and flopped doM'n on 
the table. The writer's entomological instinct led him to reach 
out for it, and was warned by his host in the remarkable sentence 
comprising words derived from three distinct languages: " Guar- 
dez, guardez! Zat animalito sting like ze dev! " But it was too 
late; the writer had been stung on the forefinger, with painful 
results. Fortunately, however, the insect's beak must have been 
clean, and no great swelling or long inconvenience ensued. 

Perhaps the best known of any of the species mentioned in 
our list is the blood-sucking cone-nose (ConorJiinus sanguisugus). 
This ferocious insect belongs to a genus which has several repre- 
sentatives in the United States, all, however, confined to the South 
or West. C. ruhro-fasciatus and C. variegatus, as well as C. san- 


guisugus, are given the general geographical distribution of 
*' Southern States." C. dimidiaius and C. maculipennis are Mex- 
ican forms, while C. gerstaeckeri occurs in the Western States. The 
more recently described species, C. protractiLS Uhl., has been 
taken at Los Angeles, Cal.; Dragoon, Ariz.; and Salt Lake City, 
Utah. All of these insects are blood-suckers, and do not hesitate 
to attack animals. Le Conte, in his original description of C. san- 
guisugus* adds a most significant paragraph or two which, as it 
has not been quoted of late, will be especially appropriate here: 
" This insect, equally with the former " (see above), " inflicts a most 
painful wound. It is remarkable also for sucking the blood of 
mammals, particularly of children. I have known its bite fol- 
lowed by very serious consequences, the patient not recovering 
from its effects for nearly a year. The many relations which we 
have of spider bites frequently proving fatal have no doubt arisen 
from the stings of these insects or others of the same genera. 
When the disease called spider bite is not an anthrax or carbuncle 
it is undoubtedly occasioned by the bite of an insect — by no means 
however, of a spider. Among the many species of Araneidce which 
we have in the United States I have never seen one capable of 
inflicting the slightest wound. Ignorant persons may easily mis- 
take a Cimex for a spider. I have known a physician who sent 
to me the fragments of a large ant, which he supposed was a spider, 
that came out of his grandchild's head." The fact that Le Conte 
was himself a physician, having graduated from the College of 
Physicians and Surgeons in 1846, thus having been nine years in 
practice at the time, renders this statement all the more significant. 
The life history and habits of C. sanguisugus have been so well 
written up by my assistant, Mr. Marlatt, in Bulletin Xo. 4, I^^ew 
Series, of the Division of Entomology, United States Department 
of Agriculture, that it is not necessary to enter upon them here. 
The point made by Marlatt — that the constant and uniform char- 
acter of the symptoms in nearly all cases of bites by this insect 
indicate that there is a specific poison connected with the bite — de- 
serves consideration, but there can be no doubt that the very seri- 
ous results which sometimes follow the bite are due to the intro- 
duction of extraneous poison germs. The late Mr. J. B. Lembert, 
of Yosemite, Cal., noticed particularly that the species of Conorhi- 
nus occurring upon the Pacific coast is attracted by carrion. Pro- 
fessor Tourney, of Tucson, Arizona, shows how a woman broke out 
all over the body and limbs with red blotches and welts from a 
single sting on the shoulders. Specimens of C. sanguisugus re- 

* Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, vol. vii, p. 404j 

VOL. LVI. — 4 


ceived in July, 1899, from Maversville, Miss., Trere accompanied 
by the statement — which is appropriate, in view of the fact that the 
newspapers have insisted that the " kissing bug " prefers the lip — • 
that a friend of the writer was bitten on the lip, and that the effect 
was a burning pain, intense itching, and much swelling, lasting 
three or four days. The writer of the letter had been bitten upon 
the leg and arm, and his brother was bitten upon both feet and 
legs and on the arm, the symptoms being the same in all cases. 

More need hardly be said specifically concerning these biting 
bugs. The writer's conclusions are that a puncture by any one of 
them may be and frequently has been mistaken for a spider bite, 
and that nearly all reported spider-bite cases have had in reality 
this cause, that the so-called " kissing-bug " scare has been based 
upon certain undoubted cases of the bite of one or the other of 
them, but that other bites, including mosquitoes, wath hysterical 
and nervous symptoms produced by the newspaper accounts, have 
aided in the general alarm. The case of Miss Larson, who died in 
August, 1898, as the result of a mosquito bite, at Mystic, Conn., 
is an instance which goes to show that no mysterious new insect 
need be looked for to explain occasional remarkable cases. One 
good result of the " kissing-bug " excitement will prove in the end 
to be that it will have relieved spiders from much unnecessary 



I HAVE the honor to address you, on completion of my term 
of special duty for the investigation of malaria, on the subject 
of the practical results as regard the prevention of the disease 
which may be expected to arise from my researches; and I trust 
that this letter may be submitted to the Government if the director 
general thinks fit. 

It has been shown in my reports to you that the parasites of 
malaria pass a stage of their existence in certain species of mos- 
quitoes, by the bites of which they are inoculated into the blood 
of healthy men and birds. These observations have solved the 
problem — previously thought insolvable — of the mode of life of 
these parasites in external Nature. 

My results have been accepted by Dr. Laveran, the discoverer 
of the parasites of malaria; by Dr. Manson, who elaborated the 

* A report, published in Nature, from Major Ronald Ross to the Secretary to the Director 
General, Indian Medical Service, Simla. Dated Calcutta, February 16, 1899. 


mosquito theory of malaria; by Dr. ISTuttall, of the Hygienic In- 
stitute of Berlin, who has made a special study of the relations 
between insects and disease; and, I understand, by M. Metchnikoff, 
Director of the Laboratory of the Pasteur Institute in Paris. 
Lately, moreover, Dr. C. W. Daniels, of the Malaria Commission, 
who has been sent to study with me in Calcutta, has confirmed 
my observations in a special report to the Royal Society; while, 
lastly. Professor Grassi and Drs. Bignami and Bastianelli, of Rome, 
have been able, after receiving specimens and copies of my reports 
from me, to repeat my experiments in detail, and to follow two 
of the parasites of human malaria through all their stages in a 
species of mosquito called the Anopheles claviger. 

It may therefqre be finally accepted as a fact that malaria is 
communicated by the bites of some species of mosquito; and, to 
judge from the general laws governing the development of para- 
sitic animals, such as the parasites of malaria, this is very probably 
the only way in which infection is acquired, in which opinion sev- 
eral distinguished men of science concur with me. 

In considering this statement it is necessary to remember that 
it does not refer to the mere recurrences of fever to which people 
previously infected are often subject as the result of chill, fatigue, 
and so on. When I say that malaria is communicated by the bites 
of mosquitoes, I allude only to the original infection. 

It is also necessary to guard against assertions to the effect that 
malaria is prevalent where mosquitoes and gnats do not exist. In 
my experience, when the facts come to be inquired into, such asser- 
tions are found to be untrue. Scientific research has now yielded 
so absolute a proof of the mosquito theory of malaria that hearsay 
evidence opposed to it can no longer carry any weight. 

Hence it follows that, in order to eliminate malaria wholly or 
partly from a given locality, it is necessary only to exterminate 
the various species of insect which carry the infection. This will 
certainly remove the malaria to a large extent, and will almost 
certainly remove it altogether. It remains only to consider whether 
such a measure is practicable. 

Theoretically the extermination of mosquitoes is a very simple 
matter. These insects are always hatched from aquatic larvae or 
grubs which can live only in small stagnant collections of water, 
such as pots and tubs of water, garden cisterns, wells, ditches and 
drains, small ponds, half-dried water courses, and temporary pools 
of rain-water. So far as I have yet observed, the larvae are seldom 
to be found in larger bodies of water, such as tanks, rice fields, 
streams, and rivers and lakes, because in such places they are de- 
voured by minnows and other small fish. 'Nov have I ever seen 


any evidence in favor of the popular view tLat tliey breed in damp 
grass, dead leaves, and so on. 

Hence, in order to get rid of these insects from a locality, it 
will suffice to empty out or drain away, or treat with certain chem- 
icals, the small collections of water in which their larvae must 
pass their existence. 

But the practicability of this will depend on circumstances — 
especially, I think, on the species of mosquito with which we wish 
to deal. In my experience, different species select different habi- 
tations for their larvae. Thus the common " brindled mosquitoes " 
breed almost entirely in pots and tubs of water; the common " gray 
mosquitoes" only in cisterns, ditches, and drains; while the rarer 
" spotted-winged mosquitoes " seem to choose only shallow rain- 
water puddles and ponds too large to dry up under a week or more, 
and too small or too foul and stagnant for minnows. 

Hence the larvae of the first two varieties are found in large 
numbers round almost all human dwellings in India; and, because 
their breeding grounds — namely, vessels of water, drains, and 
wells — are so numerous and are so frequently contained in private 
tenements, it will be almost impossible to exterminate them on a 
large scale. 

On the other hand, spotted-winged mosquitoes are generally 
much more rare than the other two varieties. They do not appear 
to breed in wells, cisterns, and vessels of water, and therefore have 
no special connection with human habitations. In fact, it is usually 
a matter of some difficulty to obtain their larvae. Small pools of 
any permanence — such as they require — are not common in most 
parts of India, except during the rains, and then pools of this kind 
are generally full of minnows which make short work of any mos- 
quito larvae they may find. In other words, the breeding grounds 
of the spotted-winged varieties seem to be so isolated and small 
that I think it may be possible to exterminate this species under 
certain circumstances. 

The importance of these observations will be apparent when I 
add that hitherto the parasites of human malaria have been found 
only in spotted-winged mosquitoes — namely, in two species of them 
in India and in one species in Italy. As a result of very numer- 
ous experiments I think that the common brindled and gray mos- 
quitoes are quite innocuous as regards human malaria — a for- 
tunate circumstance for the human race in the tropics; and Pro- 
fessor Grassi seems to have come to the same conclusion as the 
result of his inquiries in Italy. 

But I \vish to be understood as writing with all due caution 
on these points. Up to the present our knowledge, both as regards 


the habits of the various species of mosquito and as regards the 
capacity of each for carrying malaria, is not complete. All I can 
now say is that if my anticipations be realized — if it be found that 
the malaria-beariug species of mosquito multiply only in small 
isolated collections of water which can easily be dissipated — we 
shall possess a simple mode of eliminating malaria from certain 

I limit this statement to certain localities only, because it is 
obvious that where the breeding pools are very numerous, as in 
water-logged country, or where the inhabitants are not sufficiently 
advanced to take the necessary precautions, we can scarcely expect 
the recent observations to be of much use — at least for some years 
to come. And this limitation must, I fear, exclude most of the rural 
areas in India. 

Where, however, the breeding pools are not very numerous, 
and where there is anything approaching a competent sanitary es- 
tablishment, we may, I think, hope to reap the benefit of these 
discoveries. And this should apply to the most crowded areas, such 
as those of cities, towns and cantonments, and also to tea, coffee, 
and indigo estates, and perhaps to military camps. 

For instance, malaria causes an enormous amount of sickness 
among the poor in most Indian cities. Here the common species 
of mosquitoes breed in the precincts of almost all the houses, and 
can therefore scarcely be exterminated; but pools suitable for the 
spotted-winged varieties are comparatively scarce, being found only 
on vacant areas, ill-kept gardens, or beside roads in very excep- 
tional positions where they can neither dry up quickly nor contain 
fish. Thus a single small puddle may supply the dangerous mos- 
quitoes to several square miles containing a crowded population: 
if this be detected and drained off — which will generally cost only 
a very few rupees — we may expect malaria to vanish from that 
particular area. 

The same considerations will apply to military cantonments 
and estates under cultivation. In many such malaria causes the 
bulk of the sickness, and may often, I think, originate from two 
or three small puddles of a few square yards in size. Thus in a 
malarious part of the cantonment of Secunderabad I found the 
larvae of spotted-winged mosquitoes only after a long search in a 
single little pool which could be filled up with a few cart-loads of 
town rubbish. 

In making these suggestions I do not wish to excite hopes which 
may ultimately prove to have been unfounded. We do not yet 
know all the dangerous species- of mosquito, nor do we even pos- 
sess an exhaustive knowledge of the haunts and habits of any one 


variety. I wisli merely to indicate what, so far as I can see at 
present, may become a very simple means of eradicating malaria. 

One thing may be said for certain. "Where previously we have 
been unable to point out the exact origin of the malaria in a local- 
ity, and have thought that it rises from the soil generally, we 
now hope for much more precise knowledge regarding its source; 
and it will be contrary to experience if human ingenuity does not 
finally succeed in turning such information to practical account. 

More than this, if the distinguishing characteristics of the ma- 
laria-bearing mosquitoes are sufficiently marked (if, for instance, 
they all have spotted wings), people forced to live or travel in 
malarious districts will ultimately come to recognize them and to 
take precautions against being bitten by them. 

Before practical results can be reasonably looked for, however, 
we must find precisely — 

(a) What species of Indian mosquitoes do and do not carry 
human malaria. 

(h) What are the habits of the dangerous varieties. 

I hope, therefore, that I may be permitted to urge the desira- 
bility of carrying out this research. It will no longer present any 
scientific difficulties, as only the methods already successfully 
adopted will be required. The results obtained will be quite un- 
equivocal and definite. 

But the inquiry should be exhaustive. It will not suffice to 
distinguish merely one or two malaria-bearing species of mosquito 
in one or two localities; we should learn to know all of them in all 
parts of the country. 

The investigation will be abbreviated if the dangerous species 
be found to belong only to one class of mosquito, as I think is 
likely; and the researches which are now being energetically en- 
tered upon in Germany, Italy, America, and Africa will a'ssist any 
which may be undertaken in India, though there is reason for 
thinking that the malaria-bearing species differ in various coun- 

As each species is detected it will be possible to attempt meas- 
ures at once for its extermination in given localities as an ex- 

I regret that, owing to my work connected with 'kala-azar, I 
have not been able to advance this branch of knowledge as much 
during my term of special duty as I had hoped to do; but I think 
that the solution of the malaria problem which has been obtained 
during this period will ultimately yield results of practical im- 



By victor C. VACGHAN, 
professor of hygiene in the university of michigan. 

"TTTITHIN the past fifteen or twenty years cases of poisoning 
V V with foods of various kinds have apparently become quite 
numerous. This increase in the number of instances of this kind 
has been both apparent and real. In the first place, it is only 
within recent years that it has been recognized that foods ordi- 
narily harmless may become most powerful poisons. In the sec- 
ond place, the more extensive use of preserved foods of various 
kinds has led to an actual increase in the number of outbreaks of 
food poisoning. 

The harmful effects of foods may be due to any of the follow- 
ing causes: 

1. Certain poisonous fungi may infect grains. This is the 
cause of epidemics of poisoning with ergotized bread, which for- 
merly prevailed during certain seasons throughout the greater part 
of continental Europe, but which are now practically limited to 
southern Russia and Spain. In this country ergotism is practi- 
cally unknown, except as a result of the criminal use of the drug 
ergot. However, a few herds of cattle in Kansas and Nebraska 
have been quite extensively affected with this disease. 

2. Plants and animals may feed upon substances that are not 
harmful to them, but which may seriously affect man on account 
of his greater susceptibility. It is a well-known fact that hogs 
may eat large quantities of arsenic or antimony without harm to 
themselves, and thus render their flesh unfit for food for man. It 
is believed that birds that feed upon the mountain laurel furnish 
a food poisonous to man. 

3. During periods of the physiological activity of certain 
glands in some of the lower animals the flesh becomes harmful 
to man. Some species of flsh are poisonous during the spawning 

4. Both animal and vegetable foods may become infected with 
the specific germs of disease and serve as the carriers of the infec- 
tion to man. Instances of the distribution of typhoid fever by the 
milkman are illustrations of this. 

5. Animals may be infected with specific diseases, which may 
be transmitted to man in the meat or milk. This is one of the 
means by which tuberculosis is spread. 

6. Certain nonspecific, poison-producing germs may find their 
way into foods of various kinds, and may by their growth produce 


chcniical poisons either before or after the food has been eaten. 
This is the most common form of food poisoning known in this 

We will briefly discuss some foods most likely to prove harm- 
ful to man. 

Mussel Poisoning. — It has long been known that this bivalve 
is occasionally poisonous. Three forms of mussel poisoning are 
recognized. The first, known as Mytilotoxismus gastricus, is ac- 
companied by symptoms practically identical with those of cholera 
morbus. At first there is nausea, followed by vomiting, which may 
continue for hours. In severe cases the walls of the stomach are so 
seriously altered that the vomited matter contains considerable 
quantities of blood. Vomiting is usually accompanied by severe 
and painful purging. The heart may be markedly affected, and 
death may result from failure of this organ. Examination after 
death from this cause shows the stomach and small intestines to be 
highly inflamed. 

The second form of mussel poisoning is knoAvn as Mytilotoxis- 
rtius exanthematicus on account of visible changes in the skin. At 
first there is a sensation of heat, usually beginning in the eyelids, 
then spreading to the face, and finally extending over the whole 
body. This sensation is followed by an eruption, which is accom- 
panied by intolerable itching. In severe cases the breathing be- 
comes labored, the face grows livid, consciousness is lost, and death 
may result within two or three days. 

The most frequently observed form of mussel poisoning is 
that designated as Mytilotoxismus paralyticus. As early as 1827 
Combe reported his observations upon thirty persons who had suf- 
fered from this kind of mussel poisoning. The first symptoms, as 
a rule, appeared within two hours after eating the poisonous food. 
Some suffered from nausea and vomiting, but those were not con- 
stant or lasting symptoms. All complained of a prickly feeling 
in the hands, heat and constriction of the throat, difficulty of swal- 
lowing and speaking, numbness about the mouth, gradually extend- 
ing over the face and to the arms, with great debility of the limbs. 
Most of the sufferers were unable to stand; the action of the heart 
was feeble, and the face grew pale and expressed much anxiety. 
Two of the thirty cases terminated fatally. Post-mortem examina- 
tion showed no abnormality. 

Many opinions have been expressed concerning the nature of 
harmful mussels. Until quite recently it was a common belief that 
certain species are constantly toxic. Virchow has attempted to 
describe the dangerous variety of mussels, stating that it has a 
brighter shell, sweeter, more penetrating, bouillonlike odor than 


the edible kind, and that the flesh of the poisonous mussel is yellow; 
the water in which they are boiled becomes bluish. 

However, this belief in a poisonous species is now admitted to 
l)e erroneous. At one time it was suggested that mussels became 
hurtful by absorbing the copper from the bottoms of vessels, but 
Christison made an analysis of the mussels that poisoned the men 
mentioned by Combe, with negative results, and also pointed out 
the fact that the symptoms were not those of poisoning with cop- 
per. Some have held that the ill effects were due wholly to 
idiosyncrasies in the consumers, but cats and dogs are affected 
in the same way as men are. It has also been believed that 
all mussels are poisonous during the period of reproduction. This 
theory is the basis of the popular superstition that shellfish 
should not be eaten during the months in the name of which 
the letter " r " does not occur. At one time this popular idea 
took the form of a legal enactment in France forbidding the sale 
of shellfish from May 1st to September 1st. This widespread 
idea has a grain of truth in it, inasmuch as decomposition is 
more likely to alter food injuriously during the summer months. 
How^ever, poisoning with mussels may occur at any time of 
the year. 

It has been pretty well demonstrated that the first two forms 
of mussel poisoning mentioned above are due to putrefactive pro- 
cesses, while the paralytic manifestations seen in other cases are 
due to a poison isolated a few years ago by Brieger, and named 
by him mytilotoxin. Any mussel may acquire this poison when it 
lives in filthy water. Indeed, it has been shown experimentally 
that edible mussels may become harmful when left for fourteen 
days or longer in filthy water; while, on the other hand, poisonous 
mussels may become harmless if kept four weeks or longer in clear 
water. This is true not only of mussels, but of oysters as well. 
Some years ago, many cases of poisoning from oysters were re- 
ported at Havre. The oysters had been taken from a bed near 
the outlet of a (Irain from a public water closet. Both oysters and 
mussels may harbor the typhoid bacillus, and may act as carriers 
of this germ to man. 

There should be most stringent police regulations against the 
sale of all kinds of mollusks, and all fish as well, taken from filthy 
waters. Certainly one should avoid shellfish from impure waters, 
and it is not too much to insist that those offered for food should 
be washed in clean water. All forms of clam and oyster broth 
should be avoided when it has stood even for a few hours at sum- 
mer heat. These preparations very quickly become infected with 
bacteria, which develop most potent poisons. 


Fish Poisoxixg. — Some fisli are supplied with poisonous glands, 
by means of which thej secure their prey and protect themselves 
from their enemies. The " dragon weaver," or " sea weaver " 
(Trachinus draco), is one of the best known of these iish. There 
are numerous varieties widely distributed in salt waters. The poi- 
sonous spine is attached partly to the maxilla and partly to the gill 
cover at its base. This spine is connected with a poisonous gland; 
the spine itself is grooved and covered with a thin membrane, which 
converts the grooves into canals. When the point enters another 
animal its membrane is stripped back and the poison enters the 
wound. ]\Ien sometimes wound their feet with the barbs of this 
fish while bathing. It also occasionally happens that a fisherman 
pricks his fingers with one of these barbs. The most poisonous 
variety of this fish known is found in the Mediterranean Sea. 
Wounds produced by these animals sometimes cause death. In 
Synanceia hrachio there are in the dorsal fin thirteen barbs, each 
connected with two poison reservoirs. The secretion from these 
glands is clear, bluish in color, and acid in reaction, and when in- 
troduced beneath the skin causes local gangrene and, if in sufiicient 
quantity, general paralysis. In Plotosus lineatus there is a pow^er- 
f ul barb in front of the ventral fin, and the poison is not discharged 
unless the end of the barb is broken. The most poisonous variety 
of this fish is found only in tropical waters. In Scorpcena scrofa 
and other species of this family there are poison glands connected 
with the barbs in the dorsal and in some varieties in the caudal fin. 

A disease known as hakke was a few years ago quite prevalent 
in Japan and other countries along the eastern coast of Asia. 
With the opening up of Japan to the civilized world the study of 
this disease by scientific methods was undertaken by the observant 
and intelligent natives who acquired their medical training in Eu- 
rope and America. In Tokio the disease generally appears in 
May, reaches its greatest prevalence in August, and gradually dis- 
appears in September and October. The researches of Miura and 
others have fairly well demonstrated that this disease is due to the 
eating of fish belonging to the family of Scomhridce. There are 
other kinds of fish in Japanese waters that undoubtedly are poison- 
ous. This is true of the teirodon, of which, according to Remey, 
there are twelve species whose ovaries are poisonous. Dogs fed 
upon these organs soon suffered from salivation, vomiting, and 
convulsive muscular contractions. When some of the fluid ob- 
tained by rubbing the ovaries in a mortar was injected subcutane- 
ously in dogs the symptoms were much more severe, and death 
resulted. Tahara states that he has isolated from the roe of the 
tetrodon two poisons, one of which is a crystalline base, while the 


other is a -vvliite, waxy body. From 1885 to 1892 inclusive, 933 
cases of poisoning witli this fish were reported in Tokio, with a mor- 
tality of seventy-two per cent. 

Fish poisoning is quite frequently observed in the "West Indies, 
where the complex of symptoms is designated by the Spanish term 
siguatera. It is believed by the natives that the poisonous prop- 
erties of the fish are due to the fact that they feed upon decom- 
posing medusae and corals. In certain localities it is stated that 
all fish caught off certain coral reefs are unfit for food. How- 
ever, all statements concerning the origin and nature of the poi- 
son in these fish are mere assumptions, since no scientific work has 
been done. Whatever the source of the poison may be, it is quite 
powerful, and death not infrequently results. The symptoms are 
those of gastro-intestinal irritation followed by collapse. 

In Russia fish poisoning sometimes causes severe and widespread 
epidemics. The Government has offered a large reward for any 
one who will positively determine the cause of the fish being poi- 
sonous and suggest successful means of preventing these outbreaks. 
Schmidt, after studying several of these epidemics, states the fol- 
lowing conclusions: 

(a) The harmful effects are not due to putrefactive processes. 
(b) Fish poisoning in Russia is always due to the eating of some 
member of the sturgeon tribe, (c) The ill effects are not due to 
the method of catching the fish, the use of salt, or to imperfections 
in the methods of preservation, {d) The deleterious substance is 
not uniformly distributed through the fish, but is confined to cer- 
tain parts, (e) The poisonous portions are not distinguishable from 
the nonpoisonous, either macroscopically or microscopically. (/) 
When the fish is cooked it may be eaten without harm, (g) The 
poison is an animal alkaloid produced most probably by bacteria 
that cause an infectious disease in the fish during life. 

The conclusion reached by Schmidt is confirmed by the re- 
searches of Madame Sieber, who found a poisonous bacillus in fish 
which had caused an epidemic. 

In the United States fish poisoning is most frequently due to 
decomposition in canned fish. The most prominent symptoms are 
nausea, vomiting, and purging. Sometimes there is a scarlatinous 
rash, which may cover the whole body. The writer has studied 
two outbreaks of this kind of fish poisoning. In both instances 
canned salmon was the cause of the trouble. Although a discus- 
sion of the treatment of food poisoning is foreign to this paper, the 
writer must call attention to the danger in the administration of 
opiates in cases of poisoning with canned fish. Vomiting and purg- 
ing are efforts on the part of ISTature to remove the poison, and 


should be assisted bj the stomach tube and by irrigation of the 
colon. In one of the cases seen by the writer large doses of mor- 
phine had been administered in order to check the vomiting and 
purging and to relieve the pain; in this case death resulted. The 
danger of arresting the elimination of the poison in all cases of 
food poisoning can not be too emphatically condemned. 

Meat Poisoning. — The diseases most frequently transmitted 
from the lower animals to man by the consumption of the flesh or 
milk of the former by the latter are tuberculosis, anthrax, symp- 
tomatic anthrax, pleuro-pneumonia, trichinosis, mucous diarrhcea, 
and actinomycosis. It hardly comes within the scope of this article 
to discuss in detail the transmission of these diseases from the 
lower animals to man. However, the writer must be allowed to 
offer a few opinions concerning some mooted questions pertaining 
to the consumption of the flesh of tuberculous animals. Some 
hold that it is sufficient to condemn the diseased part of the tuber- 
culous cow, and that the remainder may be eaten with perfect 
safety. Others teach that " total seizure " and destruction of 
the entire carcass by the health authorities are desirable. Ex- 
periments consisting of the inoculation of guinea pigs with the 
meat and meat juices of tuberculous animals have given differ- 
ent results to several investigators. To one who has seen tuber- 
culous animals slaughtered, these differences in opinion and in 
experimental results are easily explainable. The tuberculous in- 
vasion may be confined to a single gland, and this may occur 
in a portion of the carcass not ordinarily eaten; while, on the 
other hand, the invasion may be much more extensive and the 
muscles may be involved. The tuberculous portion may con- 
sist of hard nodules that do not break down and contaminate 
other tissues in the process of removal, but the writer has seen a 
tuberculous abscess in the liver holding nearly a pint of broken- 
down infected matter ruptured or cut in removing this organ, and 
its contents spread over the greater part of the carcass. This ex- 
plains why one investigator succeeds in inducing tuberculosis in 
guinea pigs by introducing small bits of meat from a tuberculous 
cow into the abdominal cavity, while another equally skillful bac- 
teriologist follows the same details and fails to get positive results. 
N^o one desires to eat any portion of a tuberculous animal, and the 
only safety lies in " total seizure " and destruction. That the milk 
from tuberculous cows, even when the udder is not involved, may 
contain the specific bacillus has been demonstrated experimentally. 
The writer has suggested that every one selling milk should be 
licensed, and the granting of a license should be dependent upon 
the application of the tuberculin test to every cow from which 



milk is sold. The frequency with which tuberculosis is trans- 
mitted to children through milk should justify this action. 

That a profuse diarrhoea may render the flesh of an animal 
unfit food for man was demonstrated by the cases studied by Gart- 
ner. In this instance the cow was observed to have a profuse 
diarrhoea for two days before she was slaughtered. Both the raw 
and cooked meat from this animal poisoned the persons who ate it. 
Medical literature contains the records of many cases of meat poi- 
soning due to the eating of the flesh of cows slaughtered while suf- 
fering from puerperal fever. It has been found that the flesh of 
animals dead of symptomatic anthrax may retain its infection after 
having been preserved in a dry state for ten years. 

One of the most frequently observed forms of meat poisoning is 
that due to the eating of decomposed sausage. Sausage poison- 
ing, known as botulismus, is most common in parts of Germany. 
Germans who have brought to the United States their methods of 
preparing sausage occasionally sufter from this form of poisoning. 
The writer had occasion two years ago to investigate six cases of 
this kind, two of which proved fatal. The sausage meat had been 
placed in uncooked sections of the intestines and alternately frozen 
and thawed and then eaten raw. In this instance the meat was in- 
fected with a highly virulent bacillus, which resembled very closely 
the Bacterium coli. 

In England, Ballard has reported numerous epidemics of meat 
poisoning, in most of which the meat had become infected with 
some nonspecific, poison-producing germ. In 1894 the writer was 
called upon to investigate cases of poisoning due to the eating of 
pressed chicken. The chickens were killed Tuesday afternoon and 
left hanging in a market room at ordinary temperature until 
Wednesday forenoon, when they were drawn and carried to a res- 
taurant and here left in a warm room until Thursday, when they 
were cooked (not thoroughly), pressed, and served at a banquet 
in which nearly two hundred men participated. All ate of the 
chicken, and were more or less seriously poisoned. The meat con- 
tained a slender bacillus, which was fatal to white rats, guinea 
pigs, dogs, and rabbits. 

Ermengem states that since. 1867 there have been reported 112 
epidemics of meat poisoning, in which 6,000 persons have been 
affected. In 103 of these outbreaks the meat came from diseased 
animals, while in only five was there any evidence that putrefactive 
changes in the meat had taken place. My experience convinces 
me that in this country meat poisoning frequently results from 
putrefactive changes. 

Instances of poisoning from the eating of canned meats have 


become quite common. Altliough it may be possible that in some 
instances the ill effects result from metallic poisoning, in a great 
majority of cases the poisonous substances are formed by putre- 
factive changes. In many cases it is probable that decomposition 
begins after the can has been opened by the consumer; in others 
the canning is imperfectly done, and putrefaction is far advanced 
before the food reaches the consumer. In still other instances 
the meat may have been taken from diseased animals, or it may 
have undergone putrefactive changes before the canning. It 
should alvi^ays be remembered that canned meat is especially liable 
to putrefactive changes after the can has been opened, and when the 
contents of the open can are not consumed at once the remainder 
should be kept in a cold place or should be thrown away. People 
are especially careless on this point. While every one knows that 
fresh meat should be kept in a cold place during the summer, an 
open can of meat is often allowed to stand at summer temperature 
and its contents eaten hours after the can has been opened. This 
is not safe, and has caused several outbreaks of meat poisoning 
that have come under the observation of the writer. 

Milk Poisoning. — In discussing this form of food poisoning we 
will exclude any consideration of the distribution of the specific 
infectious diseases through milk as the carrier of the infection, 
and will confine ourselves to that form of milk poisoning which 
is due to infection with nonspecific, poison-producing germs. In- 
fants are highly susceptible to the action of the galactotoxicons 
(milk poisons). There can no longer be any doubt that these poi- 
sons are largely responsible for much of the infantile mortality 
which is alarmingly high in all parts of the world. It has been 
positively shown that the summer diarrhcea of infancy is due to 
milk poisoning. The diarrhoeas prevalent among infants during 
the summer months are not due to a specific germ, but there are 
many bacteria that grow rapidly in milk and form poisons which 
induce vomiting and purging, and may cause death. These dis- 
eases occur almost exclusively among children artificially fed. It 
is true that there are differences in chemical composition between 
the milk of woman and that of the cow, but these variations in 
percentage of proteids, fats, and carbohydrates are of less impor- 
tance than the infection of milk with harmful bacteria. The child 
that takes its food exclusively from the breast of a healthy mother 
obtains a food that is free from poisonous bacteria, while the bottle- 
fed child may take into its body with its food a great number and 
variety of germs, some of which may be quite deadly in their 
effects. The diarrhoeas of infancy are practically confined to the 
hot months, because a high temperature is essential to the growth 


and wide distribution of the poison-producing bacteria. Further- 
more, during the summer time these bacteria grow abundantly in 
all kinds of filth. Witliin recent years the medical profession has 
so urgently called attention to the danger of infected milk that 
there has been a great improvement in the care of this article of 
diet, but that there is yet room for more scientific and thorough 
work in this direction must be granted. The sterilization and Pas- 
teurization of milk have doubtlessly saved the lives of many chil- 
dren, but every intelligent physician knows that even the most 
careful mother or nurse often fails to secure a milk that is alto- 
gether safe. 

It is true that milk often contains germs the spores of which 
are not destroyed by the ordinary methods of sterilization and Pas- 
teurization. However, these germs are not the most dangerous 
ones found in milk. Moreover, every mother and nurse should 
remember that in the preparation of sterilized milk for the child 
it is not only necessary to heat the milk, but, after it has been 
heated to a temperature sufficiently high and sufficiently prolonged, 
the milk must subsequently be kept at a low temperature until the 
child is ready to take it, when it may be warmed. It should be 
borne in mind that the subsequent cooling of the milk and keeping 
it at a low temperature is a necessary feature in the preparation 
of it as a food for the infant. 

Cheese Poisoning. — Under this heading we shall include the 
ill effects that may follow the eating of not only cheese but other 
milk products, such as ice cream, cream custard, cream puffs, etc. 
Any poison formed in milk may exist in the various milk products, 
and it is impossible to draw any sharp line of distinction between 
milk poisoning and cheese poisoning. However, the distinction is 
greater than is at first apparent. Under the head of milk poison- 
ing we have called especial attention to those substances formed in 
milk to which children are particularly susceptible, while in cheese 
and other milk products there are formed poisonous substances 
against which age does not give immunity. Since milk is prac- 
tically the sole food during the first year or eighteen months of life, 
the effect of its poisons upon infants is of the greatest importance ; 
on the other hand, milk products are seldom taken by the infant, 
but are frequent articles of diet in after life. 

In 1884 the writer succeeded in isolating from poisonous cheese 
a highly active basic substance, to which he gave the name tyro- 
toxicon. The symptoms produced by this poison are quite marked, 
but differ in degree according to the amount of the poison taken. 
At first there is dryness of the mouth, followed by constriction of 
the fauces, then nausea, vomiting, -and purging. The first vomited 


matter consists of food, then it becomes "svatery and is frequently 
stained with Llood. The stools are at first semisolid, and then 
are watery and serous. The heart is depressed, the pulse be- 
comes weak and irregular, and in severe cases the face appears 
cyanotic. There may be dilatation of the pupil, but this is not 
seen in all. The most dangerous cases are those in which the vom- 
iting is slight and soon ceases altogether, and the bowels are con- 
stipated from the beginning. Such cases as these require prompt 
and energetic treatment. The stomach and bowels should be thor- 
oughly irrigated in order to remove the poison, and the action of 
the heart must be sustained. 

At one time the writer believed that tyrotoxicon was the ac- 
tive agent in all samples of poisonous cheese, but more extended 
experimentation has convinced him that this is not tlie case. In- 
deed, this poison is rarely found, w4iile the number of poisons in 
harmful cheese is no doubt considerable. There are numerous 
poisonous albumins found in cheese and other milk products. 
"While all of these are gastro-intestinal irritants, they differ con- 
siderably in other respects. 

Tn 1895 the writer and Perkins made a prolonged study of a 
bacillus found in cheese which had poisoned fifty people. Chem- 
ically the poison produced by this germ is distinguished from tyro- 
toxicon by the fact that it is not removed from alkaline solution 
w^ith ether. Physiologically the new poison has a more pro- 
nounced effect on the heart, in w'hicli it resembles muscarin or 
neurin more closely than it does tyrotoxicon. Pathologically, the 
two poisons are unlike, inasmuch as the new poison induces marked 
congestion of the tissues about the point of injection w^hen used 
upon animals hypodermically. Furthermore, the intestinal con- 
strictions w'hich are so uniformly observed in animals poisoned by 
tyrotoxicon was not once seen in our work with this new poison, 
although it was carefully looked for in all our experiments. 

In 1898 the writer, with McClymonds, examined samples of 
cheese from more than sixty manufacturers in this country and in 
Europe. In all samples of ordinary American green cheese poi- 
sonous germs were found in greater or less abundance. These 
germs resemble very closely the colon bacillus, and most likely their 
presence in the milk is to be accounted for by contamination with 
bits of fecal matter from the cow. It is more than probable that 
the manufacture of cheese is yet in its infancy, and we need some 
one to do for this industry what Pasteur did for the manufacture 
of beer. At present the flavor of a given cheese depends upon the 
bacteria and molds which accidentally get into it. The time will 
probably come when all milk used for the manufacture of cheese 


will be sterilized, and then selected molds and bacteria will be sown 
in it. In this way the flavor and value of a cheese will be deter- 
mined with scientific accuracy, and will not be left to accident. 

Canned Foods. — As has been stated, the increased consumption 
of preserved foods is accountable for a great proportion of the 
cases of food poisoning. The preparation of canned foods involves 
the application of scientific principles, and since this work is done 
by men wholly ignorant of science it is quite remarkable that 
harmful effects do not manifest themselves more frequently than 
they do. Every can of food which is not thoroughly sterilized 
may become a source of danger to health and even to life. It 
may be of interest for us to study briefly the methods ordinarily 
resorted to in the preparation of canned foods. With most sub- 
stances the food is cooked before being put into the can. This 
is especially true of meats of various kinds. Thorough cooking 
necessarily leads to the complete sterilization of the food; but after 
this, it must be transferred to the can, and the can must be prop- 
erly closed. With the handling necessary in canning the food, 
germs are likely to be introduced. Moreover, it is possible that 
the preliminary cooking is not thoroughly done and complete ster- 
ilization is not reached. The empty can should be sterilized. If 
one wishes to understand the modus operandi of canning foods, 
let him take up a round can of any fruit, vegetable, or meat and 
examine the bottom of the can, which is in reality the top during 
the process of canning and until the label is put on. The food 
is introduced through the circular opening in this end, now closed 
by a piece which can be seen to be soldered on. After the food 
has been introduced through this opening the can and contents 
are heated either in a water bath or by means of steam. The open- 
ing through which the food was introduced is now closed by a cir- 
cular cap of suitable size, which is soldered in position. 

This cap has near its center a "' prick-hole " through which the 
steam continues to escape. This " prick-hole " is then closed with 
solder, and the closed can again heated in the water bath or with 
steam. If the can " blows " (if the ends of the can become con- 
vex) during this last heating the " prick-hole " is again punctured 
and the heated air allowed to escape, after which the " prick-hole " 
is again closed. Cans thus prepared should be allowed to stand 
in a warm chamber for four or five days. If the contents have 
not been thoroughly sterilized gases will be evolved during this 
time, or the can will " blow " and the contents should be discarded. 
Unscrupulous manufacturers take cans which have " blown," prick 
them to allow the escape of the contained gases, and then resteril- 
ize the cans with their contents, 'close them again, and put them 

VOL. LVI. — 5 


on the market. These " blowholes " may be made in either end 
of the can, or they may be made in the sides of the can, where 
they are subsequently covered Avitli tlie label. Of course, it does 
not necessarily follow that if a can has " blown " and been subse- 
quently resterilized its contents will prove poisonous, but it is not 
safe to eat the contents of such cans, lieputable maiiufacturers 
discard all "blown " cans. 

Nearly all canned jellies sold in this country are nuide from 
apples. The apples are boiled with a preparation sold under the 
trade name " tartarine." This consists of either dilute hydro- 
chloric or sulphuric acid. Samples examined by the writer have 
invariably been found to consist of dilute hydrochloric acid. The 
jelly thus formed by the action of the dilute acid upon the apple 
is converted into quince, pear, pineapple, or any other fruit that 
the pleasure of the manufacturer may choose by the addition of 
artificial flavoring agents. There is no reason for believing that 
the jellies thus prepared are harmful to health. 

Canned fruits occasionally contain salicylic acid in some form. 
There has been considerable discussion among sanitarians as to 
whether or not the use of this preservative is admissible. Serious 
poisoning with canned fruits is very rare. However, there can 
be but little doubt that many minor digestive disturbances are 
caused by acids formed in these foods. There has been much 
apprehension concerning the possibility of poisoning resulting from 
the soluble salts of tin formed by the action of fruit acids upon 
the can. The writer believes that anxiety on this point is un- 
necessary, and he has failed to find any positive evidence of poison- 
ing resulting from this cause. 

There are two kinds of condensed milk sold in cans. These 
are known as condensed milk " with " and " without " sugar. In 
the preparation of the first-mentioned kind a large amount of cane 
sugar is added to condensed milk, and this acting as a preservative 
renders the preparation and successful handling of this article of 
food comparatively easy. On the other hand, condensed milk to 
which sugar has not been added is very liable to decomposition, 
and great care must be used in its preparation. The writer has 
seen several cases of severe poisoning that have resulted from de- 
composed canned milk. Any of the galactotoxicons (milk poisons) 
may be formed in this milk. In these instances the cans were 
" blown," both ends being convex. 

One of the most important sanitary questions in which we are 
concerned to-day is that pertaining to the subject of canned meats. 
It is undoubtedly true that unscrupulous manufacturers are put- 
ting upon the market articles of this kind of food which no decent 


man knowingly would eat, and wliicli are undoubtedly harmful 
to all. 

The knowledge gained by investigations in chemical and bac- 
teriological science have enabled the unscrupulous to take putrid 
liver and other disgusting substances and present them in such a 
form that the most fastidious palate would not recognize their 
origin. In this way the flesh from diseased animals and that which 
has undergone putrefactive changes may be doctored up and sold 
as reputable articles of diet. The writer does not believe that 
this practice is largely resorted to in this country, but that ques- 
tionable preservatives have been used to some extent has been 
amply demonstrated by the testimony of the manufacturers of 
these articles themselves, given before the Senate committee now 
investigating the question of food and food adulterations. It is 
certainly true that most of the adulterations used in our foods are 
not injurious to health, but are fraudulent in a pecuniary sense; 
but when the flesh of diseased animals and substances which have 
undergone putrefactive decomposition can be doctored up and pre- 
served by the addition of such agents as formaldehyde, it is time 
that the public should demand some restrictive measures. 




I NEVER visit the historical collection of physical apparatus in 
the physical laboratory of Harvard University without a sense 
of wonderment at the marvelous use that has been made of old 
and antiquated pieces of apparatus which were once considered 
electrical toys. There can be seen the first batteries, the model 
of dynamo machines, and the electric motor. Such a collection is 
in a way a Westminster Abbey — dead mechanisms born to new 
uses and a great future. 

There is one simple piece of apparatus in the collection, with- 
out which telephony and wireless telegraphy would be impossible. 
To my mind it is the most interesting skeleton there, and if physi- 
cists marked the resting places of their apparatus laid to apparent 
rest and desuetude, this merits the highest sounding and most sug- 
gestive inscription. It is called a transformer, and consists merely 
of two coils of w^ire placed near each other. One coil is adapted 
to receive an electric current; the other coil, entirely independent 
of the first, responds by sympathy, or what is called induction, 



across the space which separates the coils. Doubtless if man knew 
all the capabilities of this simple apparatus he might talk to China, 
or receive messages from the antipodes. He now, bj means of it, 
analyzes the light of distant suns, and produces the singular X 

Flo. 1. — Disposition nf batteries and coils at the sending station, showing the arrangement of 
the vertical wire and the spark gap. 

rays w^hich enable him to see through the human body. By means 
of it he already communicates his thoughts between stations thou- 
sands of miles apart, and by means of its manifestations I hope to 
make this article on W'ireless telegraphy intelligible. My essay can 
be considered a panegyric of this buried form-^a history of its 
new life and of its unbounded possibilities. 

For convenience, one of the coils of the transformer is placed 
inside the other, and the combination is called a Ruhnikorf coil. 
It is represented in the accompanying photograph (Fig. 1), with 
batteries attached to the inner coil, while the outer coil is con- 
nected to two balls, between which an electric spark jumps when- 
ever the battery circuit is broken. In fact, any disturbance in the 
battery circuit — a weakening, a strengthening, or a break — pro- 
vided that the changes are sudden, produces a corresponding 
change in the neighboring circuit. One coil thus responds to the 
other, in some mysterious way, across the interval of air which 
separates them. Usually the coils are placed very near to each 
other — in fact, one embraces the other, as shown in the photo- 

The coils, however, if placed several miles apart, will still re- 



spond to each other if they are made sufficiently large, if they 
are properly placed, and if a powerful current is used to excite 
one coil. Thus, by simply varying tlie distance between the coils 
of wire we can send messages through the air between stations 
which are not connected with a wire. This method, however, 
does not constitute the system of wireless telegraphy of Mar- 
coni, which it is the object of this paper to describe. Marconi has 
succeeded in transmitting messages over forty miles between points 
not connected by wires, and he has accomplished this feat by merely 
slightly modifying the disposition of the coils, thus revealing a 
new possibility of the wondrous transformer. If the reader will 
compare the following diagram (Fig. 2) with the photograph (Fig. 
1), he will see how simple the sending apparatus of Marconi is. 

S is a gap between the ends of one coil, across which an elec- 
tric spark is produced whenever the current from the batteries 
B flowing through the coil C is broken by an arrangement at D. 
This break produces an electrical pulsation in the coil C, which 
travels up and dow^n the wire W, which is elevated to a consid- 
erable height above the ground. This pulsation can not be seen 
by the eye. The wire does not move; it appears perfectly qui- 


Fig. 2. — Diagram of the arranorement of wires and batteries at tlie receiving station. 

escent and dead, and seems oul}^ a wire and nothing more. At 
night, under favorable circumstances, one could see a luminosity 
on the wire, especially at the end, when messages are being trans- 
mitted, by a powerful battery B. 

It is very easy to detect the electric lines which radiate from 









every part of sucli a wire when a spark jumps between the ter- 
minals S of the coiL All that is necessary to do is to pass the wire 
through a sensitive film and to develop the film. The accompany- 
ing photograph (Fig. 3) was taken at the top of such a wire, by 
means of a very powerful apparatus at my command. When the 
photograph is examined with a microscope the arborescent 
electric lines radiating from the wire, like the rays of light 
from a star, exhibit a beautiful fernlike structure. These 
lines, however, are not chiefly instrumental in transmitting 
the electric pulse across space. 

There are other lines, called magnetic lines of force, 
wdiich emanate from every ])ortion of the vertical w'ire W 
just as ripples spread out on the surface of placid water when 
it is disturl:)ed by the fall of a stone. These magnetic rip- 
ples travel in the ether of space, and when 
they embrace a neighboring wire or coil 
produce similar ripples, which whirl 
about the distant wire and produce 
in some strange way an electrical 
current in the wire. These mag- 
netic pulsations can travel great 

In the photographs of these 
magnetic Avhirls, Fig. 4 is the 
whirl produced in the circuit C by 
the battery B (Fig. 2), while Fig. 
5 is that produced by electrical 
sympathy, or as it is called induc- 
tion, in a neighboring wire. These 
photographs were obtained by pass- 
ing the circuits through the sensi- 
tive films, perpendicularly to the 
latter, and then sprinkling very 
fine iron filings on these surfaces 
and exposing them to the light. 
In order to obtain these photo- 
graphs a very powerful electrical 
current excited the coil C (Fig. 2), and the neighboring circuit W 
(Fig. 5) was placed very near the circuit W. 

When the receiving wire is at the distance of several miles 
from the sending wire it is impossible to detect by the above 
method the magnetic ripples or whirls. We can, however, detect 
the electrical currents which these magnetic lines of force cause 
in the receiving wire; and this leads me to speak of the discovery 

ti B 

i;. -In represeiUB :i in;)je coinpictu elec- 
trical arrangement of the receiver cir- 
cuit. The vertical wire, W, is con- 
nected to one wire of the coherer, L. 
The other wire of the coherer is led to 
the ground, G. The wires in the co- 
herer, L, are separated by fine metallic 
jiarticles. B represents a battery. Yl, 
an eiectro-magnet which attracts a 
piece of iron, A (armature), and closes 
a local battery, B, causing a click of 
the sounder (electro-magnet), S. The 
magnetic waves (Fig. 5) embracing 
the wire, W, cause a pulsation in this 
wire which produces an electrical dis- 
turbance in the coherer analogous to 
tiiat shown in Fig. 3, by means of 
which an electrical cuiTent is enabled 
to pass through the electro-magnet, K. 



of a remarkable phenomenon which has made Marconi's system 
of wireless telegraphy possible. In order that an electrical current 
may flow through a mass of particles of a metal, a mass, for in- 
stance, of iron filings, it is necessary either to compress them or to 
cause a minute spark or electrical discharge between the particles. 
]^ow, it is supposed that the magnetic whirls, in embracing the dis- 
tant receiving circuit, cause these minute sparks, and thus enable 
the electric current from the battery B to work a telegraphic 
pounder or boll ]\f. The metallic filings are inclosed in a fflass tube 

Fio. 3. — I'hotograph ot the electric lines which einauale frcnu the eud of the wire at the send- 
ing station, and which are probably reproduced among the metallic filings of the coherer 
at the receiving station. 

between wires which lead to the battery, and the arrangement is 
called a coherer. It can be made small and light. Fig. 6 is a 
representation in full size of one that has been found to be very 
sensitive. It consists of two silver wires with a few iron filings 
contained in a glass tube between the ends of the wires. It 
is necessary that this little tube should be constantly shaken up 
.in order that after the electrical circuit is made the iron filings 
should return to their non-conducting condition, or should cease 
to cohere together, and should thus be ready to respond to the 
following signal. My colleague. Professor Sabine, has employed 
a very small electric motor to cause the glass tube to revolve, and 
thus to keep the filings in motion Avliile signals are being received. 
Fig. 7 shoW'S the arrangement of the receiving apparatus. 

The coherer and the motor are shown betw^een two batteries, 
one of which drives the motor while the other serves to work the 



bell or sounder when the electric wire excites the iron filings. In 
Fig. 2 this receiving apparatus is shown diagrammatically. B is the 
battery which sends a current throus'h the sounder M and the 


i-ii.. 4. — .M;i:;iR-uc \viiiri> aiHUii uie 

coherer IST when the magnetic whirls coming from the sending wire 
W embrace the receiving wire W. 

The term wireless telegraphy is a misnomer, for without wires 
the method would not be possible. The phenomenon is merely 
an enlargement of one that we are fully conscious of in the case 
of telegraph and telephone circuits, which is termed electro-mag- 
netic induction. Whenever an electric current suddenly flows or 
suddenly ceases to flow along a wire, electrical currents are caused 
by induction in neighboring wires. The receiver employed by Mar- 
coni is a delicate spark caused by this induction, which forms a 
bridge so that an electric current from the relay battery can pass 
and influence magnetic instruments. 

Many investigators had succeeded before Marconi in sending 
telegraphic messages several miles through the air or ether be- 
tween two points not directly connected by wires. Marconi has 
extended the distance by employing a much higlier electro-motive 
force at the sending station and using the feeble inductive effect 
at a distance to set in action a local batterv. 


It is evident that wires are needed at the sending station from 
every point of which magnetic and electric waves are sent out, and 
wires at the receiving station which embrace, so to speak, these 
waves in the manner shown bv our photographs. These waves 
produce minute sparks in the receiving instrument, which act like 
a suddenly drawn flood gate in allowing the current from a local 
battery to flow through the circuit in which the spark occurs, and 
thus produce a click on a telegraphic instrument. 

"We have said that messages had been sent by what is called 
wireless telegraphy before Marconi made his experiments. These 
messages had also been sent by induction, signals on one wire be- 
ing received by a parallel and distant wire. To Marconi is due 
the credit of greatly extending the method by using a vertical 
wire. The method of using the coherer to detect electric pulses 
is not due, however, to Marconi. It is usually attributed to Branly; 

Fi(i. 5. — Magnetic whirls about the receiving wire. 

it had been employed, however, by previous observers, among 
whom is Hughes, the inventor of the microphone, an instrument 
analogous in its action to that of the coherer. In the case of the 
microphone, the waves from the human voice shake up the par- 
ticles of carbon in the microphone transmitter, and thus cause an 
electrical current to flow more easily through the minute contacts 
of the carbon particles. 


The action of the telephone transmitter, whieli also consists of 
minute conducting particles in which a battery terminals are im- 
mersed, and the analogous coherer is microscopic, and there are 
many theories to account for their changes of resistance to electri- 
cal currents. We can not, I believe, be far wrong in thinking 
that the electric force breaks down the insulating effect of the 
infinitely thin layers of air between the particles, and thus allows 
an electric current to flow. This action is doubtless of the nature 
of an electric spark. An electric spark, in the case of wireless 
telegraphy, produces magnetic and electric lines of force in space, 
these reach out and embrace the circuit containing the coherer, 
and produce in turn minute sparks. Similia sitniUhus — one action 
perfectly corresponds to the other. 

The Marconi system, therefore, of wdiat is called wireless te- 
legraphy is not new in principle, but only new in practical appli- 
cation. It had been used to show the phenomena of electric waves 
in lecture rooms. Marconi extended it from distances of sixty to 
one hundred feet to fifty or sixty miles. lie did this by lifting the 
sending-wire spark on a lofty pole and improving the sensitiveness 
of the metallic filings in the glass tube at the receiving station. 

Fia. 6. — The coherer employed to receive the electric waves. (One aud a third actual size.) 

He adopted a mechanical arrangement for continually tapping the 
coherer in order to break up the minute bridges formed by the 
cohering action, and thus to prepare the filings for the next mag- 
netic i^ulse. The system of wireless telegraphy is emphatically a 
spark system strangely analogous to flash-light signaling, a system 
in which the human eye with its rods and cones in the retina acts 
as the coherer, and the nerve system, the local battery, making 
a signal or sensation in the brain. 

Let us examine the sending spark a little further. An elec- 
tric spark is perhaps the most interesting ])hcnomenon in elec-- 
tricity. What causes it — how does the air behave toward it — 
what is it that apparently flows through the air, sending out light 
and heat waves as well as magnetic and electric waves? If we 
could answer all these questions, we sh<nil<l know what elec- 
tricity is. A critical study of the electric spark has not only its 
scientific but its practical side. We see the latter side evidenced 
by its employment in wireless telegraphy ;ni(l in the X rays; for 
in the latter case we have an electric discharge in a tube from 
which the air is removed — a special case of an electric spark. In 


order to understand the capabilities of wireless telegraphy we must 
turn to the scientific study of the electric spark; for its practical 
employment resides largely in its strength, in its frequency in its 
position, and in its power to make the air a conductor for elec- 
tricity. All these points are involved in wireless telegraphy. How, 
then, shall we study the electric spark? The eye sees only an in- 
stantaneous flash following a devious path. It can not tell in what 
direction a spark flies (a flash of lightning, for instance), or indeed 
whether it has a direction. There is probably no commoner fallacy 
mankind entertains than the belief that the direction of lightning, 
or any electric spark, can be ascertained by the eye — that is, the 
direction from the skv to the earth or from the earth to the skv. 



Fig. 7. — Arruugemcut of battuiies of motor i to disturb tlie culicrer) uimX tiie flounder by which 

the messages are received. 

I have repeatedly tested numbers of students in regard to this 
question, employing sparks four to six feet in length, taking pre- 
cautions in regard to the concealment of the directions in which 
I charged the poles of the charging batteries, and I have never 
found a consensus of opinion in regard to directions. The ordinary 
photograph, too, reveals no more than the eye can see — a brilliant, 
devious line or a flaming discharge. 

A large storage battery forms the best means of studying elec- 
tric sparks, for with it one can run the entire gamut of this phe- 
nomenon — from the flaming discharge which we see in the arc light 
on the street to the crackling spark we employ in wireless telegra- 
phy, and the more powerful discharges of six or more feet in length 
which closely resemble lightning discharges. A critical study of this 
gamut throws considerable light on the problem of the possibility 


of secret wireless telegraphy — a problem which it is most important 
to solve if the S3'stem is to be made practical; for at present the 
message spreads out from the sending spark in great circular rip- 
ples in all directions, and may be received by any one. 

Several methods enable us to transform electrical energy so as 
to obtain suitable quick and intense blows on the surrounding me- 
dium. Is it possible that there is some mysterious vibration in the 
spark which is instrumental in the effective transmission of elec- 
trical energy across space? If the spark should vibrate or oscillate 
to and fro faster than sixteen times a second the human eye could 
not detect such oscillations; for an impression remains on the eye 
one sixteenth of a second, and subsequent ones separated by inter- 
vals shorter than a sixteenth would mingle together and could not 
be separated. The only way to ascertain whether the spark is oscil- 
latory, or whether it is not one spark, as it appears to the eye, 
but a number of to-and-fro impulses, is to photograph it by a rapidly 
revolving mirror. The principle is similar to that of the biograph 
or the vitoscope, in which the quick to-and-fro motions of the spark 
are received on a sensitive film, which is in rapid motion. One 
terminal of the spark gap, the positive terminal so called, is always 
brighter than the other. Hence, if the sensitive film is moved at 
right angles to the path of the discharge, we shall get a row of 
dots which are the images of the brighter terminal, and these dots 
occur alternately first on one terminal and then on the other, show- 
ing that the discharge oscillates — that is, leaps in one discharge 

Flo. 8. — I'hotograph of electrical pulses. The interval between tlie pulses is one uiilliouth 

of a second. 

(which seems but one to the eye) many times in a hundred thou- 
sandth of a second. In practice it is found better to make an im- 
age of the spark move across the sensitive film instead of moving 
the film. This is accomplished by the same method that a boy uses 
in flashing sunlight by means of a mirror. The faster the mirror 


moves the faster moves the image of the light. In this way a speed 
of a millionth of a second can be attained. In this case the dis- 
tance between the dots on the film may be one tenth of an inch, 
sufficient to separate them to the eye. The photograph of elec- 
tric sparks (rig. 8) was taken in this manner. The distance be- 
tween any two bright spots in the trail of the photographic im- 
ages represents the time of the electric oscillation or the time of 

Fig. 9.— Photograph of a pilot spark, which is the principal factor in the method of wireless 


the magnetic pulse or w^ave which is sent out from the spark, and 
which will cause a distant circuit to respond by a similar oscil- 

At present the shortest time that can, so to speak, be photo- 
graphed in this manner is about one two-millionth of a second. 
This is the time of propagation of a magnetic wave over four hun- 
dred feet long. The waves used in wireless telegraphy are not 
more than four feet in length — about one hundredth the length 
of those we can photograph. The photographic method thus re- 
veals a mechanism of the spark which is entirely hidden from the 
eye and will always be concealed from human sight. It reveals, 
however, a greater mystery which it seems incompetent to solve — 
the mystery of Avhat is called the pilot spark, the first discharge 
which we see on our photograph (Fig. 9) stretching intact from 
terminal to terminal, having the prodigious velocity of one hun- 
dred and eighty thousand miles a second. None of our experi- 
mental devices suffice to penetrate the mystery of this discharge. 
It is this pilot spark which is chiefly instrumental in sending out 
the magnetic pulses or waves which are powerful enough to reach 
forty or fifty miles. The preponderating influence of this pilot 
spark — so called since it finds a way for the subsequent surgings 


or oscillations — is a bar to the efforts to make -wireless telegraphy 
secret. We can see from the photograj)!! how much greater its 
strength is than that of the subsequent discharges shown by the 
mere brightening of the terminals. A delicate coherer will imme- 
diately respond to the influence of this pilot spark, and the subse- 
quent oscillations of this discharge will have little effect. How, 
then, can we eff'ectively time a receiving circuit so that it will 
respond to only one sending station? We can not d(>pend upon the 
oscillatory nature of the spark, or adopt, in other words, its rate of 
vibration and form a coherer with the same rate. 

It seems as if it would be necessary to invent some method of 
sending pilot sparks at a high and definite rate of vibration, and 
of employing coherers whicli will only respond to definite power- 
ful rates of magnetic pulsation. Various attempts have been made 
to produce by mechanical means powerful electric surgings, but 
they have been unsuccessful. Both high electro-motive force and 
strength of current are needed. These can be obtained by the 
employment of a great number of storage cells. The discharge 
from a large number of these cells, however, is not suitable for 
the purpose of wireless telegraphy, although it may possess the 
([ualifications of both high electrical pressure and strength of 

The only a])])aratus we have at command to produce quick blows 
on the ether is the Euhmkorf coil. This coil, I have said, has 
been in all our physical cabinets for fifty years. It contained within 
itself the germ of the telephone transmitter and the method of wire- 
less telegraphy, unrecognized until the present. In its elements 
it consists, as we have seen, of two electrical circuits, placed near 
each other, entirely unconnected, A battery is connected with 
one of these circuits, and any change in the strength of the elec- 
trical current gives a blow to the ether or medium between the 
two circuits. A quick stopping of the electrical current gives the 
strongest impulse to the ether, which is taken up by the neighbor- 
ing circuit. For the past fifty years very little advance has been 
made in the method of giving strong electrical impulses to the 
medium of space. It is accomplished simply by a mechanical break- 
ing of the connection to the battery, either by a revolving wheel 
with suitable projections, or by a vibrating point. All the various 
forms of mechanical breaks are inefficient. They do not give quick 
and uniform breaks. Latterly, hopes have been excited by the 
discovery of a chemical break, called the Weynelt interrupter, 
shown in Fig. 1. The electrical current in passing through a vessel 
of diluted sulphuric acid from a point of ])latinum to a disk of lead 
causes bubbles of gas which form a harrier to its passage whicli is 


suddenly broken down, and this action goes on at a high rate of 
speed, causing a torrent of sparks in the neighboring circuit. The 
medium between the two circuits is thereby submitted to rapid and 
comparatively powerful impulses. The discovery of this and simi- 
lar chemical or molecular interruptions marks an era in the his- 
tory of the electrical transformer, and the hopes of further prog- 
ress by means of them is far greater than in the direction of me- 
chanical interruptions. 

We are still, however, unable to generate sufficiently power- 
ful and sufficiently well-timed electrical impulses to make wire- 
less telegraphy of great and extended use. Can we not hope to 
strengthen the present feeble impulses in wireless telegraphy by 
some method of relaying or repeating? In the analogous subject 
of telephony many efforts have also been made to render the serv- 
ice secret, and to extend it to great distances by means of relays. 
These efforts have not been successful up to the present. "We still 
have our neighbors' call bells, and we could listen to their messages 
if we were gossips. The telephone service has been extended to 
great distances — for instance, from Boston to Omaha — not by 
relays, but by strengthening the blows upon the medium between 
the transmitting circuit and the receiving one, just as we desire 
to do in what is called wireless telegraphy, the apparatus of which 
is almost identical in principle to that employed in telephony. The 
individual call in telephony is not a success for nearly the same 
reasons that exist in the case of wireless telegraphy. Perfectly 
definite and powerful rates of vibration can not be sent from point 
to point over wires to which only certain definite apparatus "wdll 
respond. There are so many ways in which the energy of the 
electric current can be dissipated in passing over wires and through 
calling bells that the form of the waves and their strength becomes 
attenuated. The form of the electrical waves is better preserved 
in free space, where there are no wires or where there is no mag- 
netic matter. The difficulty in obtaining individual calls in wire- 
less telegraphy resides in the present impossibility of obtaining 
sufficiently rapid and powerful electrical impulses, and a receiver 
which will properly respond to a definite number of such impulses. 

The question of a relay seems as impossible of solution as it 
does in telephony. The character of speech depends upon num- 
berless delicate inflections and harmonies. The form, for instance, 
of the wave transmitting the vowel a must be preserved in order 
that the sound may be recognized. A relay in telephony acts 
very much like one's neighbor in the game called gossip, in which 
a sentence repeated more or less indistinctly, after passing from 
one person to another, becomes -distorted and meaningless. No 


telephone relay has been invented which preserves the form of the 
first utterance, the vowel a loses its delicate characteristics, and 
becomes simply a meaningless noise. It is maintained by some 
authorities that such a relay can not be invented, that it is impos- 
sible to preserve the delicate inflections of the human voice in 
passing from one circuit to another, even through an infinitesimal 
air gap or ether space. It is well, however, to reflect upon Hosea 
Bigelow's sapient advice " not to prophesy unless you know." It 
was maintained in the early days of the telephone that speech 
would lose so many characteristics in the process of transmission 
over wires and through magnetic apparatus that it would not be 
intelligible. It is certain that at present long-distance transmis- 
sion of speech can only be accomplished by using more powerful 
transmitters, and by making the line of copper better fitted for 
the transmission — just as quick transportation from place to place 
has not been accomplished by quitting the earth and by flying 
through space, but by obtaining more powerful engines and by 
improving the roadbeds. 

The hopes of obtaining a relay for wireless telegraphy seem 
as small as they do in telephony. The present method is prac- 
tically limited to distances of fifty or sixty miles — distances not 
much exceeding those which can be reached by a search-light in 
fair weather. Indeed, there is a close parallelism between the 
search-light and the spark used in Marconi's experiments: both send 
out waves which differ only in length. The waves of the search- 
light are about one forty-thousandth of an inch long, while the 
magnetic waves of the spark, invisible to the eye, are three to four 
feet — more than a million times longer than the light waves. These 
very long waves have this advantage over the short light waves; 
they are able to penetrate fog, and even sand hills and masonry. 
One can send messages into a building from a point outside. A 
prisoner could communicate with the outer world, a beleaguered 
garrison could send for help, a disabled light-ship could summon 
assistance, and possibly one steamer could inform another in a fog 
of its course. 

Wireless telegraphy is the nearest approach to telepathy that 
has been vouchsafed to our intelligence, and it serves to stimulate 
our imagination and to make us think that things greatly hoped 
for can be always reached, although not exactly in the way ex- 
pected. The nerves of the whole Avorld are, so to speak, being 
bound together, so that a touch in one (N)untrv is transmitted in- 
stantly to a far-distant one. Why should we not in time speak 
through the earth to the antipodes? If the magnetic waves can 
pass through brick and stone walls and sand hills, why should we 


not direct, so to speak, our trumpet to tlie earth, instead of letting 
its utterances skim over the horizon? In regard to this suggestion, 
we know certainly one fact from our laboratory experiences: that 
these magnetic waves, meeting layers of electrically conducting 
matter, like layers of iron ore, would be reflected back, and would 
not penetrate. Thus a means may be discovered through the in- 
strumentality of such waves of exploring the mysteries of the earth 
before success is attained in completely penetrating its mass. 



TO discover the origin of the diamond in Nature we must seek 
it in its ancestral home, where the rocky matrix gave it birth 
in the form characteristic of its species. In prosecuting our search 
we should very soon discover that, in common with other gem min- 
erals, the diamond has been a great w^anderer, for it is usually 
found far from its original home. The disintegrating forces of the 
atmosphere, by acting upon the rocky material in which the stones 
were imbedded, have loosed them from their natural setting, to be 
caught up by the streams, sorted from their disintegrated matrix, 
and transported far from the parent rock, to be at last set down 
upon some gravelly bed over which the force of the current is weak- 
ened. The mines of Brazil and the Urals, of India, Borneo, and 
the " river diggings " of South Africa either have been or are now 
in deposits of this character. 

The " dry diggings " of the Kimberley district, in South Africa, 
afl'ord the unique locality in which the diamond has thus far been 
found in its original home, and all our knowledge of the genesis of 
the mineral has been derived from study of this locality. The 
mines are located in " pans," in which is found the " blue ground '' 
now recognized as the disintegrated matrix of the diamond. These 
" pans " are known to be the " pipes," or " necks," of former vol- 
canoes, now deeply dissected by the forces of the atmosphere — in 
fact, worn down if not to their roots, at least to their stumps. These 
remnants of the " pipes," through which the lava reached the sur- 
face, are surrounded in part by a black shale containing a large 
percentage of carbon, and this is believed to be the material out 
of which the diamonds have been formed. What appear to be 
modified fragments of the black shale inclosed within the " pipes " 
afford evidence that portions of the shale have been broken from 
the parent beds by the force of the ascending current of lava — a 

VOL. LVI. — 6 


t • ^ :' / .' i J > 

XJVi.ll' Arxas 


D I- 1 £ t 

Diamoiid Localities ° CE^e^*^ O.Oi-eftoii. 

K Kol\lsvi.\U O.Dowigiac M. Milford. P.Tli^^it Ci-V.. B JB^.- i-linftt on.. 

AVe are iiKlel>te.l to tlie University of Cliicatro Press for the above illustrMtion. 



common enougli a('co]ii]);iiiiiiiciit to Nolcauic action — and have been 
profoundly altered by the liiuh temperature and the extreme hydro- 
static pressure under which the mass must have been held. The 
most important feature of this alteration has been the recrystalli- 
zation of the carbon of the shale into diamond. 

This apparent explanation of the genesis of the diamond finds 
strong support in the experiments of Moissan, who obtained arti- 
ficial diamond by dissolving carbon in molten iron and immersing 
the mass in cold water until a firm surface crust had formed. The 

Copyright, 1899, by George F. Kunz. 

Five Views of the Eagle Diamond (sixteen carats) ; enlarged about three diameters. 
(Owned by Tiffany and Company.) 
We are indebted to the courtesy of Mr. G. F. Kunz, of Tiffany and Company, for tlie illus- 
trations of the Oregon and Eagle diamonds. 

'' chilled " mass was then removed, to allow its still molten core to 
solidify slowly. This it does with the development of enormous 
pressures, because the natural expansion of the iron on passing into 
the solid condition is resisted by the strong shell of " chilled '' 
metal. The isolation of the diamond was then accomplished by 
dissolving the iron in acid. 

The prevailing forin of the South African diamonds is that of 
a rounded crystal, with eight large and a nuiuber of minute faces — 
a form called by crystallographers a modified octahedron. Their 


shapes would be roughly simulated by the Pyramids of Egypt if 
they could be seen, combined with their reflected images, in a placid 
lake, or, better to meet the conditions of the country, in a desert 
mirage. It is a peculiar property of diamond crystals to have con- 
vexly rounded faces, so that the edges which separate the faces are 
not straight, but gently curving. Less frequently in the African 
mines, but commonly in some other regions, diamonds are bounded 
by four, twelve, twenty-four, or even forty-eight faces. These 
must not, of course, be confused with the faces of cut stones, which 
are the product of the lapidary's art. 

Geological conditions remarkably like those observed at the 
Kimberley mines have recently been discovered in Kentucky, with 
the difference that here the shales contain a much smaller percent- 
age of carbon, which may be the reason that diamonds have not re- 
warded the diligent search that has been made for them. 

Though now found in the greatest abundance in South Africa 
and in Brazil, diamonds were formerly obtained from India, Bor- 

Copyright, l^y.t, by iieorge F. Kunz. 

Four Views of the Oregon Diamond ; enlarfred about three diameters. 
(Owned by Tiflany and Company. ) 

neo, and from the Ural Mountains of Russia. The great stones of 
history have, with hardly an exception, come from India, though 
in recent years a number of diamond monsters have been found in 
South Africa. One of these, the " Excelsior," weighed nine hun- 
dred and seventy carats, which is in excess even of the supposed 
weight of the " Great Mogul." 

Occasionally diamonds have come to light in other regions than 
those specified. The Piedmont plateau, at the southeastern base 
of the Appalachians, has produced, in the region between southern 
Virginia and Georgia, some ten or twelve diamonds, which have 
varied in weight from those of two or three carats to the " Dewey " 
diamond, which when found weighed over twenty-three carats. 

It is, however, in the territory about the Great Lakes that the 
greatest interest now centers, for in this region a very interesting 
problem of origin is being worked out. No less than seven dia- 
monds, ranging in size from less than four to more than twenty- 
one carats, not to mention a number of smaller stones, have been 


recently found in the clays and gravels of this region, where their 
distribution was such as to indicate with a degree of approximation 
the location of their distant ancestral home. 

In order clearly to set forth the nature of this problem and 
the method of its solution it will be necessary, first, to plot upon 
a map of the lake region the locality at which each of the stones 
has been found, and, further, to enter upon the same map the 
data which geologists have gleaned regarding the work of the great 
ice cap of the Glacial period. During this period, not remote as 
geological time is reckoned, an ice mantle covered the entire north- 
eastern portion of our continent, and on more than one occasion 
it invaded for considerable distances the territory of the United 
States. Such a map as has been described discloses an important 
fact which holds the clew for the detection of the ancestral home 
of these diamonds. Each year is bringing with it new evidence, 
and we may look forward hopefully to a full solution of the 

In 1883 the " Eagle Stone " was brought to Milwaukee and sold 
for the nominal sum of one dollar. When it was submitted to 
competent examination the public learned that it was a diamond 
of sixteen carats' weight, and that it had been discovered seven 
years earlier in earth removed from a well-opening. Two events 
which were calculated to arouse local interest follow^ed directly 
upon the discovery of the real nature of this gem, after which it 
passed out of the public notice. The woman who had parted with 
the gem for so inadequate a compensation brought suit against the 
jeweler to whom she had sold it, in order to recover its value. 
This curious litigation, which naturally aroused a great deal of 
interest, was finally carried to the Supreme Court of the State of 
Wisconsin, from which a decision was handed down in favor of 
the defendant, on the ground that he, no less than the plaintiff, 
had been ignorant of the value of the gem at the time of purchas- 
ing it. The other event was the " boom " of the town of Eagle 
as a diamond center, which, after the finding of two other diamonds 
with unmistakable marks of African origin upon them, ended as 
suddenly as it had begun, with the effect of temporarily discredit- 
ing, in the minds of geologists, the genuineness of the original 
" find." 

Ten years later a white diamond of a little less than four carats' 
weight came to light in a collection of pebbles found in Oregon, 
Wisconsin, and brought to the writer for examination. The stones 
had been found by a farmer's lad while playing in a clay bank near 
his home. The investigation of the subject which was thereupon 
made brought out the fact that a third diamond, and this the largest 


of all, had been discovered at Kolil-ville, in the same State, in 
1883, and was still in the possession of the family on whose prop- 
erty it had been found. 

As these stones were found in the deposits of " drift '' which 
were left by the ice of the Glacial period, it was clear that they 
had been brought to their resting places by the ice itself. The 

Three View.s ok the Saukvillp; Diamond (six carats); enlarfred about three diameters. 

(Owned by Bunde and Upmeyer, Milwaukee.) 
We are indebted to the courtesy of Bunde and Upmeyer, of Milwaukee, for the illustra- 
tions showing the Burlington and Saukville diamonds. 

map reveals the additional fact, and one of the greatest signifi- 
cance, that all these diamonds were found in the so-called " kettle 
moraine." This moraine or ridge was the dumping ground of 
the ice for its burden of bowlders, gravel, and clay at the time of 
its later invasion, and hence indicates the boundaries of the ter- 
ritory over which the ice mass was then extended. In view of 
the fact that two of the three stones found had remained in the 
hands of the farming population, without coming to the knowledge 
of the world, for periods of eleven and seven years respectively, it 
seems most probable that others have been found, though not 
identified as diamonds, and for this reason are doubtless still to be 
found in many cases in association with other local " curios '' on 
the clock shelves of country farmhouses in the vicinity of the 
''kettle moraine.-' The writer felt warranted in predicting, in 
1894, that other diamonds would occasionally be brought to light 
in the " kettle moraine," though the great extent of this moraine 
left little room for hope that more than one or two would be 
found at any one point of it. 

In the time that has since elapsed diamonds have been found 
at the rate of about one a year, tliough not, so far as I iiiii nwavo, in 
any case as the result of seardi. in AVisconsin lia\c been found the 
Saukville diamond, a beautiful wliitc stone of six carats' weight, and 
also the Burlington stone, having a weight of a little over two 
carats. The former had been for more than sixteen years in the 
possession of the findci' lict'ovc he learned of its value. Tn Michi- 



gan has been found the Dowagiac stone, of about eleven carats' 
weight, and only very recently a diamond weighing six carats and 
of exceptionally fine " water " has come to light at Milford, near 
Cincinnati. This augmentation of the number of localities, and 
the nearness of all to the " kettle moraines," leaves little room for 
doubt that the diamonds were conveyed by the ice at the time of 
its later invasion of the country. 

Having, then, arrived at a satisfactory conclusion regarding not 
only the agent which conveyed the stones, but also respecting the 
period during which they were transported, it is pertinent to in- 
quire by what paths they were brought to their adopted homes, 
and whether, if these may be definitely charted, it may not be pos- 
sible to follow them in a direction the reverse of that taken by the 
diamonds themselves until we arrive at the point from which each 
diamond started upon its journey. If we succeed in this we shall 
learn whether they have a common home, or whether they were 
formed in regions more or less widely separated. From the great 
rarity of diamonds in Mature it would seem that the hypothesis of 
a common home is the more probable, and this view finds confirma- 
tion in the fact that certain marks of " consanguinity " have been 
observed upon the stones already found. 

Not only did the ice mantle register its advance in the great 
ridge of morainic material which we know as the " kettle moraine," 
but it has engraved upon the ledges of rock over which it has rid- 
den, in a simple language of lines and grooves, the direction of its 

Four Views of the Burlington Diamond (a little over two carats) ; enlarged about three 
diameters. (Owned by Bunde and Upmeyer, Milwaukee.) 

movement, after first having planed away the disintegrated por- 
tions of the rock to secure a smooth and lasting surface. As the 
same ledges have been overridden more than once, and at inter- 
vals widely separated, they are often found, palimpsestlike, with 
recent characters superimposed upon earlier, partly effaced, and 
nearly illegible ones. Many of the scattered leaves of this record 
have, however, been copied by geologists, and the autobiography 
of the ice is now read from maps which give the direction of its 
flow, and allow the motion of the ice as a whole, as well as that 


of each of its parts, to be satisfactorily studied. Recent studies 
by Canadian geologists have shown that one of the highest sum- 
mits of the ice cap must have been located some distance west of 
Hudson Bay, and that another, the one which glaciated the lake 
region, was in Labrador, to the east of the same body of water. 
From these points the ice moved in spreading fans both northward 
toward the Arctic Ocean and southward toward the States, and al- 
ways approached the margins at the moraines in a direction at right 
angles to their extent. Thus the rock material transported by the 
ice was spread out in a great fan, which constantly extended its 
boundaries as it advanced. 

The evidence from the Oregon, Eagle, and Kohlsville stones, 
which were located on the moraine of the Green Bay glacier, is 
that their home, in case they had a common one, is between the 
northeastern corner of the State of Wisconsin and the eastern sum- 
mit of the ice mantle — a narrow strip of country of great extent, 

Three Views of a Lead Cast of the Milford Stone (six carats) ; enlarged about three 


We are indebted to the courtesy of Prof. T. II. Norton, of the University of Cincinnati, 

for the above illustrations. 

but yet a first approximation of the greatest value. If we as- 
sume, further, that the Saukville, Burlington, and Dowagiac stones^ 
which were found on the moraine of the Lake Michigan glacier, 
have the same derivation, their common home may confidently be 
placed as far to the northeast as the wilderness beyond the Great 
Lakes, since the Green Bay and Lake Michigan glaciers coalesced 
in that region. The small stones found at Plum Creek, Wisconsin, 
and the Cincinnati stone, if the locations of their discovery be 
taken into consideration, still further circumscribe the diamond's 
home territory, since the lobes of the ice mass which transported 
them made a complete junction with the Green Bay and Lake 
Michigan lobes or glaciers considerably farther to the northward 
than the point of union of the latter glaciers themselves. 

If, therefore, it is assumed that all the stones which have been 
found have a common origin, the conclusion is inevitable that the 
ancestral home must be in the wilderness of Canada between the 



points wliere the several tracks marking their migrations eon- 
verge upon one another, and the former summit of the ice sheet. 
The broader the " fan " of their distribution, the nearer to the 
latter must the point be located. 

It is by no means improbable that when the barren territory 
about Hudson Bay is thoroughly explored a region for profitable 

CouMOK Forms of Quartz 

CoiiMON Forms of Diamonds. The African stones 
most resemV>le the figure above at the left (octa- 
hedron). The Wisconsin stones most resemble 
the figure above at the right (dodecahedron). 

diamond mining may be revealed, but in the meantime we may 
be sure that individual stones will occasionally be found in the 
new American homes into which they were imported long before 
the days of tariffs and ports of entry. Mother Nature, not con- 
tent with lavishing upon our favored nation the boundless treas- 
ures locked up in her mountains, has robbed the territory of our 
Canadian cousins of the rich soils which she has unloaded upon our 
lake States, and of the diamonds with which she has sowed them. 

The range of the present distribution of the diamonds, while 
perhaps not limited exclusively to the " kettle moraine," will, as 
the events have indicated, be in the main confined to it. This 
moraine, with its numerous subordinate ranges marking halting 
places in the final retreat of the ice, has now been located with 
sufficient accuracy by the geologists of the United States Geo- 
logical Survey and others, approximately as entered upon the ac- 
companying map. "Within the territory of the United States the 
large number of observations of the rock scorings makes it clear 
that the ice of each lobe or glacier moved from the central portion 
toward the marginal moraines, which are here indicated by dotted 
bands. In the wilderness of Canada the observations have been 
rare, but the few data which have been gleaned are there repre- 
sented by arrows pointed in the direction of ice movement. 

There is every encouragement for persons who reside in or 
near the marginal moraines to search in them for the scattered 
jewels, which may be easily identifi.ed and which have a large com- 
mercial as well as scientific .value. 

VOL. LVI. 1 


The "Wisconsin Geological and aSTatural History Suryej is now 
interesting itself in the problem of the diamonds, and has under- 
taken the task of disseminating information bearing on the sub- 
ject to the people who reside near the " kettle moraine." "With 
the co-operation of a number of mineralogists who reside near this 
*' diamond belt," it offers to make examination of the supposed 
gem stones which may be collected. 

The success of this undertaking will depend upon securing the 
co-operation of the people of the morainal belt. Wherever gravel 
ridges have there been opened in cuts it would be advisable to 
look for diamonds. Children in particular, because of their keen 
eyes and abundant leisure, should be encouraged to search for the 
clear stones. 

The serious defect in this plan is that it trusts to inexperienced 
persons to discover the buried diamonds which in the " rough " are 
probably unlike anything that they have ever seen. The first re- 
sult of the search has been the collection of large numbers of quartz 
pebbles, which are everywhere present but which are entirely 
valueless. There are, however, some simple ways of distinguish- 
ing diamonds from quartz. 

Diamonds never appear in thoroughly rounded forms like ordi- 
nary pebbles, for they are too hard to be in the least degree worn 
by contact with their neighbors in the gravel bed. Diamonds al- 
ways show, moreover, distinct forms of crystals, and these gener- 
ally bear some resemblance to one of the forms figured. They are 
never in the least degree like crystals of quartz, which are, how- 
ever, the ones most frequently confounded with them. Most of 
the Wisconsin diamonds have either twelve or forty-eight faces. 
Crystals of most minerals are bounded by plane surfaces — that is to 
say, their faces are flat — the diamond, however, is inclosed by 
distinctly curving surfaces. 

The one property of the diamond, however, which makes it easy 
of determination is its extraordinary hardness — greater than that 
of any other mineral. Put in simple language, the hardness of 
a substance may be described as its power to scratch other sub- 
stances when drawn across them under pressure. To compare the 
hardness of two substances we should draw a sharp point of one 
across a surface of the other under a pressure of the fingers, and 
note whether a permanent scratch is left. The harder substances 
will always scratch the softer, and if both have the same hardness 
they may be made to mutually scratch each other. Since dia- 
mond, sapphire, and ruby are the only minerals which are harder 
than emery they are the only ones which, when drawn across a 
rough emery surface, will not receive a scratch. Any stone which 


will not take a scratch from emery is a gem stone and of sufficient 
interest to be referred to a competent mineralogist. 

The dissemination of information regarding the lake diamonds 
through the region of the moraine should serve the twofold pur- 
pose of encouraging search for the buried stones and of discovering 
diamonds in the little collections of " lucky stones " and local curios 
which accumulate on the clock shelves of country farmhouses. 
When it is considered that three of the largest diamonds thus far 
found in the region remained for periods of seven, eight, and six- 
teen years respectively in the hands of the farming population, it 
can hardly be doubted that many other diamonds have been found 
and preserved as local curiosities without their real nature being 

If diamonds should be discovered in the moraines of eastern 
Ohio, of western Pennsylvania, or of western l^ew York, con- 
siderable light would thereby be thrown upon the problem of locat- 
ing the ancestral home. More important than this, however, is 
the mapping of the Canadian wilderness to the southeastward and 
eastward of James Bay, in order to determine the direction of ice 
movement Vvithin the region, so that the tracking of the stones 
already found may be carried nearer their home. The Director 
of the Geological Survey of Canada is giving attention to this 
matter, and has also suggested that a study be made of the mate- 
rial found in association with the diamonds in the moraine, so that 
if possible its source may be discovered. 

With the discovery of new localities of these emigrant stones 
and the collection of data regarding the movement of the ice over 
Canadian territory, it will perhaps be possible the more accurately 
and definitely to circumscribe their home country, and as its bound- 
aries are drawn closer and closer to pay this popular jewel a visit 
in its ancestral home, there to learn what we so much desire to 
know regarding its genesis and its life history. 

William Pengklly related, in one of his letters to his wife from the 
British Association, Oxford meeting, 1860, of Sedgwick's presidency of the 
Geological Section, that his opening address was " most characteristic, full 
of clever fun, most imperative that papers should be as brief as possible 
— about ten minutes, he thought — he himself amplifying marvelously." 
The next day Pengelly himself was about to read his paper, when " dear old 
Sedgwick wished it compressed. I replied that I would do what I could 
to please him, but did not know which to follow, his precept or example. 
The roar of laughter was deafening. Old Sedgwick took it capitally, and 
behaved much better in consequence." On the third day Pengelly went 
to committee, where, he says, " I found Sedgwick very cordial, took my ad- 
dress, and talks of paying me a visit." 





BUILDINGS for the representation of theatrical plays must 
fulfill three conditions: they must be (1) comfortable, (2) 
safe, and (3) healthful. The last requirement, of healthfulness, em- 
braces the following conditions: plenty of pure air, freedom from 
draughts, moderate warming in winter, suitable cooling in summer, 
freedom at all times from dust, bad odors, and disease germs. In 
addition to the requirements for the theater audience, due regard 
should be paid to the comfort, healthfulness, and safety of the 
performers, stage hands, and mechanics, who are required to spend 
more hours in the stage part of the building than the playgoers. 

It is no exaggeration to state that in the majority of theater 
buildings disgracefully unsanitary conditions prevail. In the older 
existing buildings especially sanitation and ventilation are sadly 
neglected. The air of many theaters during a performance be- 
comes overheated and stuffy, pre-eminently so in the case of thea- 
ters where illumination is effected by means of gaslights. At the 
end of a long performance the air is often almost unbearably foul, 
causing headache, nausea, and dizziness. 

In ill-ventilated theaters a chilly air often blows into the audi- 
torium from the stage w^hen the curtain is raised. This air move- 
ment is the cause of colds to many persons in the audience, and 
it is otherwise objectionable, for it carries with it noxious odors 
from tlie stage or under stage, and in gas-lighted theaters this 
air is laden with products of combustion from the footlights and 
other means of stage illumination. 

Attempts at ventilation are made by utilizing the heat due to 
the numerous flames of the central chandelier over the auditorium, 
to create an ascending draught, and thereby cause a removal of the 
contaminated air, but seldom is provision made for the introduction 
of fresh air from outdoors, hence the scheme of ventilation re- 
sults in failure. In other buildings, openings for the introduction 
of pure air are provided under the seats or in the floor, but are 
often found stuffed up with paper because the audience suffered 
from draughts. The fear of draughts in a theater also leads to 
the closing of the few possibly available outside windows and doors. 
The plan of a theater building renders it almost impossible to 
provide outside windows, therefore " air flushing " during the day 
can not be practiced. In the case of the older theaters, which are 


located in the midst or rear of other buildings, the nature of the 
site precludes a good arrangement of the main fresh-air ducts for 
the auditorium. 

Absence of fresh air is not the only sanitary defect of theater 
buildings; there are many other defects and sources of air pollu- 
tion. In the parts devoted to the audience, the carpeted floors 
become saturated with dirt and dust carried in by the playgoers, 
and with expectorations from careless or untidy persons which in a 
mixed theater audience are ever present. The dust likewise ad- 
lieres to furniture, plush seats, hangings, and decorations, and in- 
termingled with it are numerous minute floating organisms, and 
doubtless some germs of disease. 

Behind the curtain a general lack of cleanliness exists — untidy 
actors' toilet rooms, ill-drained cellars, defective sewerage, leaky 
drains, foul water closets, and overcrowded and poorly located 
dressing rooms into which no fresh air ever enters. The stage floor 
is covered with dust; this is stirred up by the frequent scene shift- 
ing or by the dancing of performers, and much of it is absorbed 
and retained by the canvas scenery. 

Under such conditions the state of health of both theater goers 
and performers is bound to suffer. Many persons can testify from 
personal experience to the ill effects incurred by spending a few 
hours in a crowded and unventilated theater; yet the very fact 
that the stay in such buildings is a brief one seems to render most 
people indifferent, and complaints are seldom uttered. It really 
rests with the theater-going public to enforce the much-needed im- 
jDrovements. As long as they will flock to a theater on account 
of some attractive play or " star actor," disregarding entirely the 
unsanitary condition of the building, so long will the present no- 
toriously bad conditions remain. When the public does not call 
for reforms, theater managers and owners of playhouses will not, 
as a rule, trouble themselves about the matter. We have a 
right to demand theater buildings with less outward and inside 
gorgeousness, but in which the paramount subjects of comfort, 
safety, and health are diligently studied and generously provided 
for. Let the general public but once show a determined preference 
for sanitary conditions and surroundings in theaters and abandon 
visits to ill-kept theaters, and I venture to predict that the necessary 
reforms in sanitation will soon be introduced, at least in the better 
class of playhouses. In the cheaper theaters, concert and amuse- 
ment halls, houses with " continuous " shows, variety theaters, etc., 
sanitation is even more urgently required, and may be readily en- 
forced by a few visits and peremptory orders from the Health 


When, a year ago, the wi-iter, in a paper on Theater Sanitation' 
presented at the annual meeting of the American Public Health 
Association, stated that " chemical analyses show the air in the 
dress circle and gallery of many a theater to be in the evening 
more foul than the air of street sewers," the statement was re- 
ceived by some of his critics with incredulity. Yet the fact is true 
of many theaters. Taking the amount of carbonic acid in the air 
as an indication of its contamination, and assuming that the or- 
ganic vapors are in proportion to the amount of carbonic acid (not 
including the CO2 due to the products of illumination), we know 
that normal outdoor air contains from 0.03 to 0.04 parts of CO2 
per 100 parts of air, while a few chemical analyses of the air in 
English theaters, quoted below, suffice to prove how large the con- 
tamination sometimes is: 

Strand Theater, 10 p. m., gallery 0. 101 parts COj per 100. 

Surrey Theater, 10 p. M., boxes 0.111 " " " 

Surrey Theater, 12 p. M., boxes 0.218 " " " 

Olympia Theater, 11.30 p M., boxes 0.082 " " " 

Olympla Theater, 11.55 P.M., boxes 0.101 " " " 

Victoria Theater, 10 P.M., boxes 0.126 " " " 

Haymarket Theater, 11. .30 p. M., dress circle 0.076 " " " 

City of London Theater, 11.15 P.M., pit 0.252 " " " 

Standard Theater, 11 p. M., pit 0.320 " " " 

Theater Royal, Manchester, pit 0.2734 " " " 

Grand Theater, Leeds, pit 0.150 " " " 

Grand Theater, Leeds, upper circle 0.143 " " " 

Grand Theater, balcony 0.142 " " " 

Prince's Theater, Manchester 0.11-0.17 " " " 

(Analyses made by Drs. Smith, Bernays, and De Chaumont.) 

Compare with these figures some analyses of the air of sewers. 
Dr. Russell, of Glasgow, found the air of a well-ventilated and 
flushed sewer to cont.iin 0.051 vols, of COg. The late Prof. "W. 
Ripley ^Nichols conducted many careful experiments on the 
amount of carbonic acid in the Boston sewers, and found the fol- 
lowing averages, viz., 0.087, 0.082, 0.115, 0.107, 0,08, or much 
less than the above analyses of theater air showed. He states: 
" It appears from these examinations that the air even in a tide- 
locked sewer does not differ from the standard as much as many 
no doubt suppose." 

A comparison of the number of bacteria found in a cubic foot 
of air inside of a theater and in the street air would form a more 
convincing statement, but I have been unable to find published 
records of any such bacteriological tests. Nevertheless, we know 
that while the atmosphere contains some bacteria, the indoor air 
of crowded assembly halls, laden with floating dust, is particularly 


ricli in living micro-organisms. This lias been proved by Tjndall, 
Miquel, Frankland, and other scientists; and in this connection 
should be mentioned one point of much importance, ascertained 
quite recently, namely, that the air of sewers, contrary to expec- 
tation, is remarkably free from germs. An analysis of the air in 
the sewers under the Houses of Parliament, London, showed that 
the number of micro-organisms was much less than that in the 
atmosphere outside of the building. 

In recent years marked improvements in theater planning and 
equipment have been effected, and corresponding steps in advance 
have been made in matters relating to theater hygiene. It should 
therefore be understood that my remarks are intended to apply 
to the average theater, and in particular to the older buildings of 
this class. There are in large cities a few well-ventilated and hy- 
gienically improved theaters and opera houses, in which the re- 
quirements of sanitation are observed. Later on, when speaking 
more in detail of theater ventilation, instances of well-ventilated 
theaters will be mentioned. ISTevertheless, the need of urgent and 
radical measures for comfort and health in the majority of theaters 
is obvious. Much is being done in our enlightened age to improve 
the sanitary condition of school buildings, jails and prisons, hos- 
pitals and dwelling houses. Why, I ask, should not our theaters 
receive some consideration? 

The efficient ventilation of a theater building is conceded to 
be an unusually difficult problem. In order to ventilate a theater 
properly, the causes of noxious odors arising from bad plumbing 
or defective drainage should be removed; outside fumes or vapors 
must not be permitted to enter the building either through doors 
or windows, or through the fresh-air duct of the heating apparatus. 
The substitution of electric lights in place of gas is a great help 
toward securing pure air. This being accomplished, a standard of 
purity of the air should be maintained by proper ventilation. This 
includes both the removal of the vitiated air and the introduction 
of pure air froni outdoors and the consequent entire change of the 
air of a hall three or four times per hour. The fresh air brought 
into the building must be ample in volume; it should be free from 
contamination, dust and germs (particularly pathogenic microbes), 
and with this in view must in cities be first purified by filtering, 
spraying, or washing. It should be warmed in cold weather by pass- 
ing over hot-water or steam-pipe stacks, and cooled in warm weather 
by means of ice or the brine of mechanical refrigerating machines. 
The air should be of a proper degree of humidity, and, what is 
most important of all, it should be admitted into the various parts 
of the theater imperceptibly, so as not to cause the sensation of 


draught; in other words, its velocity at the inlets must be very 
slight. The fresh air should enter the audience hall at numerous 
points so well and evenly distributed that the air will be equally 
diifused throughout the entire horizontal cross-section of the hall. 
The air indoors should have as nearly as possible the composition 
of air outdoors, an increase of the CO2 from 0.3 to 0.6 being the 
permissible limit. The vitiated air should be continuously removed 
by mechanical means, taking care, however, not to remove a larger 
volume of air than is introduced from outdoors. 

Regarding the amount of fresh outdoor air to be supplied to 
keep the inside atmosphere at anything like standard purity, au- 
thorities differ somewhat. The theoretical amount, 3,000 cubic feet 
per person per hour (50 cubic feet per minute), is made a require- 
ment in the Boston theater law. In Austria, the law calls for 1,050 
cubic feet. The regulations of the Prussian Minister of Public 
Works call for 700 cubic feet, Professor von Pettenkofer suggests 
an air supply per person of from 1,410 to 1,675 cubic feet per hour 
(23 to 28 cubic feet per minute). General Morin calls for 1,200 
to 1,500 cubic feet, and Dr. Billings, an American authority, re- 
quires 30 cubic feet per minute, or 1,800 cubic feet per hour. 
In the Vienna Opera House, which is described as one of the 
best-ventilated theaters in the world, the air supply is 15 cubic 
feet per person per minute. The Madison Square Theater, in 
New York, is stated to have an air supply of 25 cubic feet jjer 

In a moderately large theater, seating twelve hundred persons, 
the total hourly quantity of air to be supplied would, accordingly, 
amount to from 1,440,000 to 2,160,000 cubic feet. It is not an 
easy matter to arrange the fresh-air conduits of a size sufficient to 
furnish this volume of air; it is obviously costly to warm such a 
large quantity of air, and it is a still more difficult problem to 
introduce it without creating objectionable currents of air; and, 
finally, inasmuch as this air can not enter the auditorium unless a 
like amoaint of vitiated air is removed, the problem includes pro- 
viding artificial means for the removal of large air volumes. 

Where gas illumination is used, each gas flame requires an ad- 
ditional air supply — from 140 to 280 cubic feet, according to Gen- 
eral Morin. 

A slight consideration of the volumes of air which must be 
moved and removed in a theater to secure a complete change of 
air three or four times an hour, demonstrates the impossibility of 
securing satisfactory results by the so-called natural method of 
ventilation — i. e., the removal of air by means of flues with currents 
due either to the aspirating force of the wind or due to artificially 


increased temperature in the flues. It becomes necessary to adopt 
mechanical means of ventilation by using either exhaust fans or 
pressure blowers or both, these being driven either by steam en- 
gines or by electric motors. In the older theaters, which were 
lighted by gas, the heat of the flames could be utilized to a certain 
extent in creating ascending currents in outlet shafts, and this 
accomplished some air renewal. But nowadays the central chan- 
delier is almost entirely dispensed with; glowing carbon lamps, fed 
by electric currents, replace the gas flames; hence mechanical 
ventilation seems all the more indicated. 

Two principal methods of theater ventilation may be arranged : 
in one the fresh air enters at or near the floor and rises upward to 
the ceiling, to be removed by suitable outlet flues; in this method 
the incoming air follows the naturally existing air currents; in the 
other method pure air enters at the top through perforated cor- 
nices or holes in the ceiling, and gradually descends, to be removed 
by outlets located at or near the floor line. The two systems are 
known as the "upward" and the "downward" systems; each of 
them has been successfully tried, each offers some advantages, and 
each has its advocates. In both systems separate means for sup- 
plying fresh air to the boxes, balconies, and galleries are required. 
Owing to the different opinions held by architects and engineers, 
the two systems have often been made the subject of inquiry by 
scientific and government commissions in France, England, Ger- 
many, and the United States. 

A French scientist, Darcet, was the first to suggest a scientific 
system of theater ventilation. He made use of the heat from the 
central chandelier for removing the foul air, and admitted the air 
through numerous openings in the floor and through inlets in the 
front of the boxes. 

Dr. Reid, an English specialist in ventilation, is generally re- 
garded as the originator of the upward method in ventilation. He 
applied the same with some success to the ventilation of the Houses 
of Parliament in London. Here fresh air is drawn in from high 
towers, and is conducted to the basement, where it is sprayed and 
moistened. A part of the air is warmed by hot-water coils in a 
sub-basement, while part remains cold. The warm and the cold 
air are mixed in special mixing chambers. From here the tem- 
pered air goes to a chamber located directly under the floor of 
the auditorium, and passes into the hall at the floor level through 
numerous small holes in the floor. The air enters with low velocity, 
and to prevent unpleasant draughts the floor is covered in one 
hall with hair carpet and in the other with coarse hemp matting, 
both of which are cleaned every ^ay. The removal of the foul 

VOL. LTI. — 8 


air takes place at tlie ceiling, and is assisted by the heat from the 
gas flames. 

The French engineer Peclet, an authority on heating and ven- 
tilation, suggested a similar system of upward ventilation, but 
instead of allowing the foul air to pass out through the roof, he 
conducted it downward into an underground channel which had ex- 
haust draught. Trelat, another French engineer, followed practi- 
cally the same method. 

A large number of theaters are ventilated on the upward sys- 
tem. I will mention first the large Vienna Opera House, the 
ventilation of which was planned by Dr. Boehm. The auditorium 
holds about three thousand persons, and a fresh-air supply of about 
fifteen cubic feet per minute, or from nine hundred to one thou- 
sand cubic feet per hour, per person is provided. The fresh air is 
taken in from the gardens surrounding the theater and is eon- 
ducted into the cellar, where it passes through a water spray, which 
removes the dust and cools the air in summer. A suction fan ten 
feet in diameter is provided, which blows the air through a con- 
duit forty-five square feet in area into a series of three chambers 
located vertically over each other under the auditorium. The low- 
est of these chambers is the cold-air chamber; the middle one is 
the heating chamber and contains steam-heating stacks; the highest 
chamber is the mixing chamber. The air goes partly to the heat- 
ing and partly to the mixing chamber; from this it enters the 
auditorium at the rate of one foot per second velocity through 
openings in the risers of the seats in the parquet, and also through 
vertical wall channels to the boxes and upper galleries. The total 
area of the fresh-air openings is 750 square feet. The foul air 
ascends, assisted by the heat of the central chandelier, and is col- 
lected into a large exhaust tube. The foul air from the gallery 
passes out through separate channels. In the roof over the audi- 
torium there is a fan which expels the entire foul air. Tele- 
graphic thermometers are placed in all parts of the house and 
communicate with the inspection room, where the engineer in 
charge of the ventilation controls and regulates the temperature. 

The Vienna Hofburg Theater was ventilated on the same 

The new Frankfort Opera House has a ventilation system mod- 
eled upon that of the Vienna Opera House, but with improve- 
ments in some details. The house has a capacity of two thousand 
people, and for each person fourteen hundred cubic feet of fresh 
air per hour are supplied. A fan about ten feet in diameter and 
making ninety to one hundred revolutions per minute brings in the 
fresh air from outdoors and drives it into chambers under the 


auditorium arranged very much like those at Vienna. The total 
quantity of fresh air supplied per hour is 2,800,000 cubic feet. The 
air enters the auditorium through gratings fixed above the floor 
level in the risers. The foul air is removed by outlets in the ceil- 
ings, which unite into a large vertical shaft below the cupola. An 
exhaust fan of ten feet diameter is placed in the cupola shaft, and 
is used for summer ventilation only. Every single box and stall 
is ventilated separately. The cost of the entire system was about 
one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars; it requires a staff of 
two engineers, six assistant engineers, and a number of stokers. 

Among well-ventilated American theaters is the Madison 
Square Theater (now Hoyt's), in jSTew York. Here the fresh air 
is taken down through a large vertical shaft on the side of the 
stage. There is a seven-foot suction fan in the basement which 
drives the air into a number of boxes with steam-heating stacks, 
from which smaller pipes lead to openings under each row of seats. 
The foul air escapes through openings in the ceiling and under 
the galleries. A fresh-air supply of 1,500 cubic feet per hour, or 
25 cubic feet per minute, per person is provided. 

The Metropolitan Opera House is ventilated on the plenum 
system, and has an upward movement of air, the total air supply 
being 70,000 cubic feet per hour. 

In the Academy of Music, Baltimore, the fresh air is admitted 
mainly from the stage and the exits of foul air are in the ceiling 
at the auditorium. 

Other theaters ventilated by the upward method are the Dres- 
den Royal Theater, the Lessing Theater in Berlin, the Opera 
House in Buda-Pesth, the new theater in Prague, the new Munici- 
pal Theater at Halle, and the Criterion Theatre in London. 

The French engineer General Arthur Morin is known as the 
principal advocate of the downward method of ventilation. This 
was at that time a radical departure from existing methods because 
it apparently conflicted with the well-known fact that heated air 
naturally rises. Much the same system was advocated by Dr. 
Tripier in a pamphlet published in 1864.* The earlier practical 
applications of this system to several French theaters did not prove 
as much of a success as anticipated, the failure being due probably 
to the gas illumination, the central chandelier, and the absence of 
mechanical means for inducing a downward movement of the air. 

In 1861 a French commission, of which General Morin was a 
member, proposed the reversing of the currents of air by admit- 
ting fresh air at both sides of the stage opening high up in the 
auditorium, and also through hollow floor channels for the balconies 

* Dr. A. Tripier. Assainissement des Theatres, Yentilation, ificlairage et Chauffage. 


and boxes; in the gallery the openings for fresh air were located 
in the risers of the steppings. The air was exhausted by numerous 
openings under the seats in the parquet. This ventilating system 
was carried out at the Theatre Lyrique, the Theatre du Cirque, 
and the Theatre de la Gaiete. 

Dr. Tripier ventilated a theater in 1858 with good success 
on a similar plan, but he introduced the air partly at the rear of 
the stage and partly in the tympanum in the auditorium. He 
removed the foul air at the floor level and separately in the rear 
of the boxes. He also exhausted the foul air from the upper gal- 
leries by special flues heated by the gas chandelier. 

The Grand Amphitheater of the Conservatory of Arts and In- 
dustries, in Paris, was ventilated by General Morin on the down- 
ward system. The openings in the ceiling for the admission of 
fresh air aggTegated 120 square feet, and the air entered with a 
velocity of only eighteen inches per second; the total air supply 
per hour was 630,000 cubic feet. The foul air was exhausted by 
openings in steps around the vertical walls, and the velocity of the 
outgoing air was about two and a half feet per second. 

The introduction of the electric light in place of gas gave a 
fresh impetus to the downward method of ventilation, and me- 
chanical means also helped to dispel the former difficulties in 
securing a positive downward movement. 

The Chicago Auditorium is ventilated on this system, a part of 
the air entering from the rear of the stage, the other from the 
ceiling of the auditorium downward. This plan coincides with the 
proposition made in 1846 by Morrill Wyman, though he admits 
that it can not be considered the most desirable method. 

A good example of the downward method is given by the ISTew 
York Music Hall, which has a seating capacity of three thou- 
sand persons and standing room for one thousand more. Fresh 
air at any temperature desired is made to enter through perfo- 
rations in or near the ceilings, the outlets being concealed by the 
decorations, and passes out through exhaust registers near the floor 
line, under the seats, through perforated risers in the terraced 
steps. About 10,000,000 cubic feet of air are supplied per hour, 
and the velocity of influx and efflux is one foot per second. The 
air supplied per person per hour is figured at 2,700 cubic feet, and 
the entire volume is changed from four and a half to five times per 
hour. The fresh air is taken in at roof level through a shaft of 
seventy square feet area. The air is heated by steam coils, and 
cooled in summer by ice. The mechanical plant comprises four 
blowers and three exhaust fans of six and seven feet in diameter. 

The downward method of ventilation was suggested in 1884 


for the improvement of the ventilation of the Senate chamber and 
the chamber of the House of Representatives in the Capitol at 
Washington, but the system was not adopted by the Board of Engi- 
neers appointed to inquire into the methods. 

The downward method is also used in the Hall of the Troca- 
dero, Paris; in the old and also the new buildings for the Ger- 
man Parliament, Berlin; in the Chamber of Deputies, Paris; and 

Professor Fischer, a modern German authority on heating and 
ventilation, in a discussion of the relative advantages of the two 
methods, reaches the conclusion that both are practical and can 
be made to work successfully. For audience halls lighted by gas- 
lights he considers the upward method as preferable. 

In arranging for the removal of foul air it is necessary, par- 
ticularly in the downward system, to provide separate exhaust flues 
for the galleries and balconies. Unless this is provided for, the 
exhaled air of the occupants of the higher tiers would mingle 
with the descending current of pure air supplied to the occupants 
of the main auditorium floor. 

]\Iention should also be made of a proposition originating in 
Berlin to construct the roof of auditoriums domelike, by dividing 
it in the middle so that it can be partly opened by means of elec- 
tric or hydraulic machinery; such a system would permit of keep- 
ing the ceiling open in summer time, thereby rendering the theater 
not only airy, but also free from the danger of smoke. A system 
based on similar principles is in actual use at the Madison Square 
Garden, in New York, where part of the roof consists of sliding 
skylights which in summer time can be made to open or close dur- 
ing the performance. 

From the point of view of safety in case of fire, which usually 
in a theater breaks out on the stage, it is without doubt best to 
have the air currents travel in a direction from the auditorium 
toward the stage roof. This has been successfully arranged in 
some of the later Vienna theaters, but from the point of view of 
good acoustics, it is better to have the air currents travel from the 
stage toward the auditorium. Obviously, it is a somewhat diflicult 
matter to reconcile the conflicting requirements of safety from 
smoke and fire gases, good acoustics and perfect ventilation. 

The stage of a theater requires to be well ventilated, for often 
it becomes filled with smoke or gases due to firing of guns, colored 
lights, torches, representations of battles, etc. There should be in 
the roof over the stage large outlet flues, or sliding skylights, con- 
trolled from the stage for the removal of the smoke. These, in 
case of an outbreak of fire on the stage, become of vital impor- 


tance in preventing the smoke and fire gases from being drawn 
into the auditorium and suffocating the persons in the gallery 

Wliere the stage is lit with gaslights it is important to provide 
a separate downward ventilation for the footlights. This, I be- 
lieve, was first successfully tried at the large Scala Theater, of 
Milan, Italy. 

The actors' and supers' dressing rooms, which are often over- 
crowded, require efiicient ventilation, and other parts of the build- 
ing, like the foyers and the toilet, retiring and smoking rooms, 
must not be overlooked. 

The entrance halls, vestibules, lobbies, staircases, and corridors 
do not need so much ventilation, but should be kept warm to 
prevent annoying draughts. They are usually heated by abun- 
dantly large direct steam or hot-water radiators, whereas the audi- 
torium and foyers, and often the stage, are heated by indirect 
radiation. Owing to the fact that during a performance the tem- 
perature in the auditorium is quickly raised by contact of the warm 
fresh air with the bodies of persons (and by the numerous lights, 
when gas is used), the temperature of the incoming air should be 
only moderate. In the best modern theater-heating plants it is 
usual to gradually reduce the temperature of the air as it issues 
from the mixing chambers toward the end of the performance. 
Both the temperature and the hygrometric conditions of the air 
should be controlled by an efiicient staff of intelligent heating 

But little need be said regarding theater lighting. Twice dur- 
ing the present century have the system and methods been changed. 
In the early part of the present century theaters were still lighted 
with tallow candles or with oil lamps. I^ext came what was at the 
time considered a wonderful improvement, namely, the introduction 
of gaslighting. The generation who can remember witnessing a 
theater performance by candle or lamp lights, and who experienced 
the excitement created when the first theater was lit up by gas, 
will soon have passed away. Scarcely twenty years ago the elec- 
tric light was introduced, and there are to-day very few theaters 
which do not make use of this improved ilium inant. It generates 
much less heat than gaslight, and vastly simplifies the problem of 
ventilation. The noxious products of combustion, incident to all 
other methods of illumination, are eliminated: no carbonic-acid gas 
is generated to render the air of audience halls irrespirable, and no 
oxygen is drawn to support combustion from the air introduced 
for breathing. 

It beine: now an established fact that the electric liffht in- 


creases the safety of human life in theaters and other places of 
amusement, its use is in many city or building ordinances made 
imperative — at least on the stage and in the main body of the 
auditorium. Stairs, corridors, entrances, etc., may, as a matter of 
precaution, be lighted by a different system, by means of either 
gas or auxiliary vegetable oil or candle lamps, protected by glass 
inclosures against smoke or draught, and provided with special inlet 
and outlet flues for air. 

Passing to other desirable internal improvements of theaters, 
I would mention first the floors of the auditorium. The cover- 
ing of the floor by carpets is objectionable — in theaters more 
so even than in dwelling houses. Night after night the carpet 
comes in contact with thousands of feet, which necessarily bring 
in a good deal of street dirt and dust. The latter falls on the 
carpets and attaches to them, and as it is not feasible to take the 
carpets up except during the summer closing, a vast accumulation 
of dirt and organic matter results, some of the dirt falling through 
the crevices between the floor boards. Many theater-goers are not 
tidy in their habits regarding expectoration, and as there must 
be in every large audience some persons afflicted with tuberculosis, 
the danger is ever present of the germs of the disease drying on 
the carpet, and becoming again detached to float in the air which 
we are obliged to breathe in a theater. 

As a remedy I would propose abolishing carpets entirely, and 
using instead a floor covering of linoleum, or thin polished par- 
quetry oak floors, varnished floors of hard wood, painted and 
stained floors, interlocked rubber-tile floors, or, at least for the 
aisles, encaustic or mosaic tiling. Between the rows of seats, as 
well as in the aisles, long rugs or mattings may be laid down loose, 
for these can be taken up without much trouble. They should be 
frequently shaken, beaten, and cleaned. 

Regarding the walls, ceilings, and cornices, the surfaces should 
be of a material which can be readily cleaned and which is non- 
absorbent. Stucco finish is unobjectionable, but should be kept flat, 
so as not to offer dust-catching projections. Oil painting of walls is 
preferable to a covering with rough wall papers, which hold large 
quantities of dust. The so-called " sanitary " or varnished wall 
papers have a smooth, non-absorbent, easily cleaned surface, and 
are therefore unobjectionable. All heavy decorations, draperies, 
and hangings in the boxes, and plush covers for railings, are to 
be avoided. 

The theater furniture should be of a material which does not 
catch or hold dust. Upholstered plush-covered chairs and seats 
retain a large amount, and are not readily cleaned. Leather- 


covered or otlier sanitary furniture, or rattan seats, Tvould be a 
great improvement. 

In the stage building we often find four or five actors placed 
in one small, overheated, unventilated dressing room, located in 
the basement of the building, without outside windows, and fitted 
with three or four gas jets, for actors require a good light in 
" making up." More attention should be paid to the comfort and 
health of the players, more space and a better location should be 
given to their rooms. Every dressing room should have a window 
to the outer air, also a special ventilating flue. Properly trapped 
wash basins should be fitted up in each room. In the dressing rooms 
and in the corridors and stairs leading from them to the stage all 
draughts must be avoided, as the performers often become over- 
heated from the excitement of the acting, and dancers in particular 
leave the heated stage bathed in perspiration. Sanitation, venti- 
lation, and cleanliness are quite as necessary for this part of the 
stage building as for the auditorium and foyers. 

It will suffice to mention that defects in the drainage and sew- 
erage of a theater building must be avoided. The well-known 
requirements of house drainage should be observed in theaters 
as much as in other public buildings.* 

The removal of ashes, litter, sweepings, oily waste, and other 
refuse should be attended to with promptness and regularity. It 
is only by constant attention to properly carried out cleaning 
methods that such a building for the public can be kept in a proper 
sanitary condition. Floating air impurities, like dust and dirt, can 
not be removed or rendered innocuous by the most perfect ven- 
tilating scheme. Mingled with the dust floating in the auditorium 
or lodging in the stage scenery are numbers of bacteria or germs. 
Among the pathogenic germs will be those of tuberculosis, con- 
tained in the sputum discharged in coughing or expectorating. 
When this dries on the carpeted floor, the germs become readily 
detached, are inhaled by the playgoers, and thus become a pro- 
lific source of danger. It is for this reason principally that the 
processes of cleaning, sweeping, and dusting should in a theater be 
under intelligent management. 

To guard against the ever-present danger of infection by germs, 
the sanitary floor coverings recommended should be wiped every 
day with a moist rag or cloth. Carpeted floors should be covered 
with moist tea leaves or sawdust before sweeping to prevent the 
usual dust-raising. The common use of the feather duster is to 

* The reader will find the subject discussed and illustrated in the author's work, Sani- 
tary Engineering of Buildings, vol. i, 1899. 


be deprecated, for it only raises and scatters the dust, but it does 
not remove it. Dusting of the furniture should be done with a 
dampened dust cloth. The cleaning should include the hot-air 
registers, where a large amount of dust collects, which can only 
be removed by occasionally opening up the register faces and wiping 
out the pipe surfaces; also the baseboards and all cornice projec- 
tions on which dust constantly settles. While dusting and sweep- 
ing, the windows should be opened ; an occasional admission of sun- 
light, where practicable, would likewise be of the greatest benefit. 

The writer believes that a sanitary inspection of theater build- 
ings should be instituted once a year when they are closed up in 
summer. He would also suggest that the granting of the annual 
license should be made dependent not only, as at present, upon the 
condition of safety of the building against fire and panic, but also 
upon its sanitary condition. In connection with the sanitary in- 
spection, a thorough disinfection by sulphur, or better wath for- 
maldehyde gas, should be carried out by the health authorities. 
If necessary, the disinfection of the building should be repeated 
several times a year, particularly during general epidemics of in- 
fluenza or pneumonia. 

Safety measures against outbreaks of fire, dangers from panic, 
accidents, etc., are in a certain sense also sanitary improvements, 
but can not be discussed here.* 

In order to anticipate captious criticisms, the writer would state 
that in this paper he has not attempted to set forth new theories, 
nor to advocate any special system of theater ventilation. His 
aim was to describe existing defects and to point out well-known 
remedies. The question of efiicient theater sanitation belongs quite 
as much to the province of the sanitary engineer as to that of the 
architect. It is one of paramount importance — certainly more so 
than the purely architectural features of exterior and interior 

In presenting to the British Association the final report on the north- 
western tribes of Canada, Professor Tylor observed that, while the work of 
the committee has materially advanced our knowledge of the tribes of 
British Columbia, the field of investigation is by no means exhavxsted. The 
languages are still known only in outlines. IMore detailed information on 
physical types may clear up several points that have remained obscure, and 
a fuller knowledge of the ethnology of the northern tribes seems desirable. 
Ethnological evidence has been collected bearing upon the history of the 
development of the area under consideration, but no archaeological inves- 
tigations, which would help materially in solving these problems, have 
been carried on. 

* See the author's work, Theater Fires and Panics, 1895. 





THERE is something novel every day; were it not so tliis earth 
would grow monotonous to all, even as it does now to many, 
and chiefly because such do not have the opportunity or the de- 
sire to learn some new thing. Eacts unknown before are con- 
stantly coming to the light, and principles are being deduced that 
serve as a stepping stone to other and broader fields of knowledge. 
So accustomed are we to this that even a new branch of science 
may dawn upon the horizon without causing a wonder in our minds. 
In this day of ologies the birth of a new one comes without the 
formal two-line notice in the daily press, just as old ones pass from 
view without tear or epitaph. 

Pliytoecology as a word is not long as scientific -terms go, and 
the Greek that lies back of it barely suggests the meaning of the 
term, a fact not at all peculiar to the present instance. Of course, 
it has to do with plants, and is therefore a branch of botany. 

In one sense that which it stands for is not new, and, as usual, 
the word has come in the wake of the facts and principles it repre- 
sents, and therefore becomes a convenient term for a branch of 
knowledge — a handle, so to say — by which that group of ideas may 
be held up for study and further growth. The word ecology was 
first employed by Haeckel, a leading ligLt in zoology in our day, 
to designate the environmental side of animal life. 

We will not concern ourselves with definitions, but discuss the 
field that the term is coined to cover, and leave the reader to for- 
mulate a short concise statement of its meaning. 

Within the last year a new botanical guide book for teachers 
has been published, of considerable originality and merit, in which 
the subject-matter is thrown into four groups, and one of these is 
Ecology. Another text-book for secondary schools is now before 
us in which ecology is the heading of one of the three parts 
into which the treatise is divided. The large output of the edu- 
cational press at the present time along the line in hand suggests 
that the magazine press should sound the dejDths of the new branch 
of science that is pushing its way to the front, or being so pushed 
by its adherents, and echo the merits of it along the line. 

Botany in its stages of growth is interesting historically. It 
fascinated for a time one of the greatest minds in the modern 
school, and as a result we have the rich and fruitful history of 
the science as seen through eyes as great as Julius Sachs's, the mas- 


ter of botany during tlie last half century. Prom tliis work it can 
be gathered that early in the centuries since the Christian era 
botany was little more than herborizing — the collecting of speci- 
mens, and learning their gross parts, as size of stem and leaf and 

This branch of botany has been cultivated to the present day, 
and the result is the systematist, with all the refinements of spe- 
cies making and readjustment of genera and orders with the nicety 
of detail in specific descriptions that only a systematist can fully 

Later on the study of function was begun, and along with it 
that of structure; for anatomy and physiology, by whatever terms 
they may be known, advance hand in hand, because inseparable. 
One worker may look more to the activities than another who toils 
with the structural relations and finds these problems enough for 
a lifetime. 

This botany of the dissecting table in contrast with that of 
the collector and his dried specimens grew apace, taking new leases 
of life at the uprising of new hypotheses, and long advances with 
the improvement of implements for work. It was natural that the 
cell and all that is made from it should invite the inspector to a 
field of intense interest, somewhat at the expense of the functions 
of the parts. In short, the field was open, the race was on, and it 
was a matter of self-restraint that a man did not enter and strive 
long and well for some anatomical prize. This branch of botany 
is still alive, and never more so than to-day, when cytology offers 
many attractive problems for the cytologist. What with his micro- 
tome that cuts his imbedded tissue into slices so thin that twenty- 
five hundred or more are needed to measure an inch in thickness, 
with his fixing solutions that kill instantly and hold each particle 
as if frozen in a cake of ice, and his stains and double stains that 
pick out the specks as the magnet draws iron filling from a bin of 
bran — with all these and a hundred more aids to the refinement of 
the art there is no wonder that the cell becomes a center of attrac- 
tion, beyond the periphery of which the student can scarcely live. 
In our closing days of the century it may be known whether the 
blephroblasts arise antipodally, and whether they are a variation of 
the centrosomes or should be classed by themselves! 

One of the general views of phytoecology is that the forms of 
plants are modified to adapt them to the conditions under which 
they exist. Thus the size of a plant is greatly modified by the 
environment. Two grains of corn indistinguishable in themselves 
and borne by the same cob may be so situated that one grows into 
a stately stalk with the ear higher than a horse's head, while the 


other is a dwarf and unproductive. Below ground tlie conditions 
are many, and all subject to infinite variation. Thus, the soil may 
be deep or shallow, the particles small or large, the moisture abun- 
dant or scant, and the food elements close at hand or far to seek — 
all of which will have a marked influence upon the root system, its 
size, and form. 

Coming to the aerial portion, there are all the factors of 
weather and climate to work singly or in union to affect the above- 
ground structure of the plant. Temperature varies through wide 
ranges of heat and cold, scorching and freezing; while humidity or 
aridity, sunsliine or cloudiness, prevailing winds or sudden tornadoes 
all have an influence in shaping the structure, developing the part, 
and fashioning the details of form of the aerial portions. Phyto- 
ecology deals with all these, and includes the consideration of that 
struggle for life that plants are constantly waging, for environ- 
ment determines that the forms best suited to a given set of condi- 
tions will survive. This struggle has been going on since the 
vegetable life of the earth began, and as a result certain prevail- 
ing conditions have brought about groups of plants found as a rule 
only where these conditions prevail. As water is a leading factor 
in plant growth, a classification is made upon this basis into the 
plants of the arid regions called xerophytes. The opposite to 
desert vegetation is that of the fresh ponds and lakes, called hydro- 
phytes. A third group, the halophytes, includes the vegetation of 
sea or land where there is an excess of various saline substances, 
the common salt being the leading one. The last group is the 
mesophytes, which include plants growing in conditions without 
the extremes accorded to the other three groups. 

This somewhat general classification of the conditions of the 
environment lends much of interest to that form of field botany 
now under consideration. As the grouping is made chiefly upon 
the aqueous conditions, it is fair to assume that plants are espe- 
cially modified to accommodate themselves to this compound. 
Plants, for example, unless they are aquatics, need to use large 
quantities of water to carry on the vital functions. Thus the salts 
from the soil need to rise dissolved in the crude sap to the leaves, 
and in order that a sufficient current be kept up there is transpira- 
tion going on from all thin or soft exposed parts. The leaves are 
the chief organs where aqueous vapor is being given off, sometimes 
to the extent of tons of water upon an acre of area in a single day. 
This evaporation being largely surface action, it is possible for the 
plant to check this by reducing the surface, and the leaf is coiled 
or folded. Other plants have through the ages become adapted 
to the destructive actions of drought and a dry, hot atmosphere, and 


have only needle-shaped leaves or even no true ones at all, as many 
of the cacti in the desert lands of the Western plains. 

Again, the surface of the plant may become covered with a felt 
of fine hairs to prevent rapid evaporation, while other plants with 
ordinary foliage have the acquired power of moving the leaves so 
that they will expose their surfaces broadside to the sun, or con- 
trariwise the edges only, as heat and light intensity determine. 

Phytoecology deals with all those adaptations of structure, and 
from which permit the plants to take advantage of the habits and 
wants of animals. If we are studying the vegetation of a bog, and 
note the adaptation of the hydrophytic plants, the chances are that 
attention will soon be called to colorations and structures that in- 
dicate a more complete and far-reaching adjustment than simply 
to the conditions of the wet, spongy bog. A plant may be met 
with having the leaves in the form of flasks or pitchers, and more 
or less filled with water. These strange leaves are conspicuously 
purplish, and this adds to their attractiveness. The upper por- 
tion may be variegated, resembling a flower and for the same pur- 
pose — namely, to attract insects that find within the pitchers a 
food which is sought at the risk of life. Many of the entrapped 
creatures never escape, and yield up their life for the support of 
that of the captor. Again, the mossy bog may glisten in the sun, 
and thousands of sundew plants with their pink leaves are growing 
upon the surface. Each leaf is covered with adhesive stalked 
glands, and insects lured to and caught by them are devoured by 
this insectivorous vegetation. 

In the pools in the same lowland there may be an abundance 
of the bladderwort, a floating plant with flowers upon long stalks 
that raise them into the air and sunshine. With the leaves reduced 
to a mere framework that bears innumerable bladders, water ani- 
mals of small size are captured in vast numbers and provide a large 
part of the nourishment required by the highly specialized hydro- 

These are but everyday instances of adaptation between plants 
and animals for- the purpose of nutrition, the adjustment of form 
being more particularly upon the Vegetative side. Zoologists may 
be able to show, however, that certain species of animals are 
adapted to and quite dependent upon the carnivorous plants. 

An ecological problem has been worked out along the above 
line to a larger extent than generally supposed. If we should take 
the case of ants only in their relation to structural adaptations 
for them in plants, it would be seen that fully three thousand spe- 
cies of the latter make use of ants for purposes of protection. The 
large fighting ants of the tropics, when provided with nectar, food, 


and shelter, will inhabit plants to the partial exclusion of destruc- 
tive insects and larger foraging animals. Interesting as all this 
is, it is not the time and place to go into the details of how the 
ant-fostering plants have their nectar glands upon stems or leaf, 
rich soft hairs in tufts for food, and homes provided in hollows 
and chambers. There is still a more intimate association of ter- 
mites with some of the toadstool-like plants, where the ants foster 
the fungi and seem to understand some of the essentials of veri- 
table gardening in miniature form. 

The most familiar branch of phytoecologj, as it concerns adapta- 
tions for insect visitations, is that which relates to the production 
of seed. Floral structures, so wonderfully varied in form and 
color and withal attractive to every lover of the beautiful, are 
familiar to all, and it only needs to be said in passing that these 
infinite forms are for the same end — namely, the union of the 
seed germs, if they may be so styled, of different and often widely 
separated blossoms. 

Sweetness and beauty are not the invariable rule with insect- 
visited blossoms, for in the long ages that have elapsed during 
which these adaptations have come about some plants have estab- 
lished an unwritten agreement between beetles and bugs with un- 
savory tastes. Thus there are the " carrion flow^ers," so called 
because of their fetid odor, designed for the sense organs of car- 
rion insects. The " stink-horn " fungi have their offensive spores 
distributed by a similar set of carrion carriers. 

Water and wind claim a share of the species, but here adapta- 
tion to the method of fertilization is as fully realized as when 
insects participate, and the uselessness of showy petals and fan- 
tastic forms is emphasized by their absence. 

Coming now to the fruits of plants, it is again seen that plants 
have adapted their offspring, the seed, to the surrounding condi- 
tions, not forgetting the wind, the waves, and the tastes and the 
exterior of passing animals. The breezes carry up and hurl along 
the light wing-possessed seeds, and the river and ocean bear these 
and many others onward to a distant land, while by grappling hooks 
many kinds cling to the hair of animals, or, provided with a pleas- 
ing pulp, are carried willingly by birds and other creatures. In 
short, the devices for seed dispersion are multitudinous, and they 
provide a large chapter in that branch of botany now styled phyto- 

How different is the old field botany from the new! Then 
there was the collector of plants and classifier of his finds, and an 
arranger of all he could get by exchange or otherwise. His suc- 
cess was measured by the size of his herbarium and his stock in 


trade as so many duplicates all taken in bloom, but the time of year, 
locality, and the various conditions of growth were all unknown. 

His implements for work were, first, a can or basket, a plant 
press, and a manual; and, secondly, a lot of paper, a paste pot, and 
some way of holding the mounts in packets or pigeonholes. 

The eyes grew keen as the hunter scoured the forest and field 
for some kind of plant he had not already possessed. There was 
a keen relish in discoveries, and it heightened into ecstasy when 
the specimen needed to be sent away for a name and was returned 
with his own Latinized and appended to that of the genus. 

This was all well and good so far as it went, but looked at 
from the present vantage ground there was not so much in it. 
However, his was an essential step to other things, as much so as 
that of the census taker. 

"We need to know the species of plants our fair land possesses, 
and have them described and named. But when the nine hundred 
and ninety-nine are known, it is a waste of time to be continually 
hunting for the thousandth. Look for it, but let it be secondary 
to that of an actual study of the great majority already known. 
The older botany was a study of the dried plants in all those de- 
tails that are laid down in the manuals. It lacked something of 
the true vitality that is inherent in a biological science, for often 
the life had gone out before the subject came up for study. To 
the phytoecologist it was somewhat as the shell without the meat, 
or the bird's nest of a previous year. 

Since those days of our forefathers there has come the minute 
anatomy of plants, followed closely by physiology; and now with 
the working knowledge of these two modern branches of botany 
the student has again taken to the field. He is making the wood- 
lot his laboratory, and the garden, so to say, his lecture room. 
He has a fair knowledge of systematic botany, but finds himself 
rearranging the families and genera to fit the facts determined by 
his ecological study. If two species of the same genus are widely 
separated in habitat, he is determining the factors that led to the 
separation. Why did one smart weed become a climber, another 
an upright herb, and a third a prostrate creeper, are questions that 
may not have entered the mind of the plant collector; but now the 
phytoecologist finds much interest in considering questions of this 
type. What are the differences between a species inhabiting the 
water and another of the same genus upon dry land, or what has led 
one group of the morning-glory family to become parasites and 
exist as the dodders upon other living plants? 

The older botanist held his subject under the best mental illu- 
mination of his time, but his physical light, that of a pine knot 


or a tallow dip, also contrasts strongly with that of the present 
gas jet and electric arc. 

The wonder should be that he saw so well, and all who follow 
him can not but feel grateful for the path he blazed through the 
dense forests of ignorance and the bridges he made over the streams 
of doubt in specific distinctions. It was a noble work, but it is 
nearly past in the older parts of our country; and while some of 
that school should linger to readjust their genera, make new com- 
binations of species, and attempt to satisfy the claims of priority, 
the rank and file will largely leave systematic botany and the 
herborizing it embraces, and betake themselves to the open fields 
of phytoecology. It may be along the line of structural adapta- 
tions when we will have morphological phytoecology, or the ad- 
justment of function to the environment when there will be phys- 
iological phytoecology. These two branches when combined to 
elucidate problems of relationship between the plant and its sur- 
roundings as involved in accommodation in its comprehensive sense 
there will be phytoecology with climate, geology, geography, or 
fossils as the leading feature, as the case may be. 

In the older botany the plant alone in itself was the subject of 
study. The newer botany takes the plant in its siirroundings and 
all that its relationships to other plants may suggest as the subject 
for analysis. In the one case the plant was all and its place of 
growth accidental, a dried specimen from any unknown habitat was 
enough; but now the environment and the numerous lines of rela- 
tionship that reach out from the living plant in situ are the major 
subjects for study. The former was field botany because the field 
contained the plant, the latter is field botany in that the plant em- 
braces in its study all else in the field in which it. lives. The one 
had as its leading question, What is your name and where do you 
belong in my herbarium? while the other raises an endless list of 
queries, of which How came you here and when? Why these 
curious glands and this strange movement or mimicry? are but 
average samples. Every spot of color, bend of leaf, and shape of 
fruit raises a question. 

The collector of fifty years ago pulled up or cut off a portion 
of his plant for a specimen, and rarely measured, weighed, and 
counted anything about it. The phytoecologist to-day watches his 
subject as it grows, and if removed it is for the purpose of testing 
its vital functions under varying circumstances of moisture, heat, 
or sunlight, and exact recording instruments are a part of the 
equipment for the investigation. 

The underlying thought in the seashore school and the tropical 
laboratory in botany is this of getting nearer to the haunts of the 


living plant. Forestry schools that have for their class room the 
wooded mountains and the botanical gardens with their living her- 
baria are welcome steps toward the same end of phytoecology. 

In view of the above facts, and many more that might be men- 
tioned did space permit, the writer has felt that the present in- 
complete and faulty presentation of the subject of the newer bot- 
any should be placed before the great reading public through the 
medium of a journal that has as its watchword Progress in Edu- 


By the Rev. EGERTON R. YOUNG. 

THIS interesting subject has been ably handled from the nega- 
tive side by Edward Thorndike, Ph. D., in the August num- 
ber of the Popular Science Monthly. Dr. Thorndike, with all his 
skill in treating this very interesting subject, seems to have for- 
gotten one very important point. His expectation has not only 
been higher than any fair claim of an animal's reasoning power, 
but he has overlooked the fact that there are different ways of rea- 
soning. Men of different races and those of little intelligence can 
be placed in new environments and be asked to perform things 
which, while utterly impossible to them, are simple and crude to 
those of higher intelligence and who have all their days been ac- 
customed to high mental exercise. If such difference exists be- 
tween the highest and most intelligent of the human race and the 
degraded and uncultured, vastly greater is the gulf that separates 
the lowest stratum of humanity from the most intelligent of the 
brute creation. The fair way to test the intelligence of the so- 
called lower orders of men is to go to their native lands and study 
them in their own environments and in possession of the equip- 
ments of life to which they have been accustomed. The same is 
true of the brute creation. Only the highest results can be ex- 
pected from congenial environments. To pass final judgment upon 
the animal kingdom, having for data only the results of the doc- 
tor's experiments, seems to us manifestly unfair. He takes a few 
cats and dogs and submits them to environments which are alto- 
gether foreign to them, and then expects feats of mind from them 
which would be far greater than the mastering of the reason why 
two and two make four is to the stupidest child of man. As the 
doctor has been permitted to tell the results of his experiments, 
may I claim a similar privilege? While I did not use dogs merely 
to test their intelligence^my business demanding of myself and 

TOL LVI - 9 


them the fullest use of all our energies and all the intelligence, 
be it more or less, that was possessed by man or beast — I had the 
privilege of seeing in my dogs actions that were, at least to me, 
convincing that they possessed the rudiments of reasoning powers, 
and, in the more intelligent, that which will be utterly inexplicable 
if it is not the product of reasoning faculties. 

For a number of years I was a resident missionary in the Hud- 
son Bay Territories, where, in the prosecution of my work, I kept 
a large number of dogs of various breeds. With these dogs I trav- 
eled several thousands of miles every winter over an area larger 
than the State of JSTew York. In summer I used them to plow 
my garden and fields. They dragged home our fish from the dis- 
tant fisheries, and the wood from the forests for our numerous 
fires. They cuddled around me on the edges of my heavy fur 
robes in wintry camps, where we often slept out in a hole dug in 
the snow, the temperature ranging from 30° to 60° below zero. 
AVhen blizzard storms raged so terribly that even the most expe- 
rienced Indian guides were bewildered, and knew not north from 
south or east from w'est, our sole reliance was on our dogs, and 
with an intelligence and an endurance that ever won our admira- 
tion they succeeded in bringing us to our desired destination. 

It is conceded at the outset that these dogs of whom I write 
were the result of careful selection. There are dogs and dogs, as 
there are men and men. They were not picked up in the street 
at random. I would no more keep in my personal service a mere 
average mongrel dog than I would the second time hire for one 
of my long trips a sulky Indian. As there are some people, good 
in many ways, who can not master a foreign tongue, so there are 
many dogs that never rise above the one gift of animal instinct. 
With such I too have struggled, and long and patiently labored, 
and if of them only I were writing I would unhesitatingly say that 
of them I never saw any act which ever seemed to show reasoning 
powers. But there are other dogs than these, and of them I here 
would write and give my reason why I firmly believe that in a 
marked degree some of them possessed the powers of reasoning. 

Two of my favorite dogs I called Jack and Cuffy. Jack was 
a great black St. Bernard, weighing nearly tw^o hundred pounds. 
Cuffy was a pure Newfoundland, with very black curly hair. 
These two dogs were the gift of the late Senator Sanford. With 
other fine dogs of the same breeds, they soon supplanted the 
l^skimo and mongrels that had been previously used for years 
about the place. 

I had so much work to do in my very extensive field that I re- 
quired to have at least four trains always fit for service. This 



meant that, counting puppies and all, there would be about the 
premises from twenty to thirty dogs. However, as the lakes and 
rivers there swarmed with fish, which was their only food, we 
kept the pack up to a state of efficiency at but little expense. 
Jack and Cuffy were the only two dogs that were allowed the full 

Jack and his Master. 

liberty of the house. They were welcome in every room. Our 
doors were furnished with the ordinary thumb latches. These 
latches at first bothered both dogs. All that was needed on our part 
was to show them how they worked, and from that day on for years 
they both entered the rooms as they desired without any trouble, 


if the doors opened from them. There Avas a decided difference, 
however, in opening a door if it opened toward them. Cufty was 
never able to do it. With Jack it was about as easily done as it 
was by the Indian servant girl. Quickly and deftly would he 
shove up the exposed latch and the curved part of the thumb piece 
and draw it toward him. If the door did not easily open, the 
claws in the other fore paw speedily and cleverly did the work. 
The favorite resting place of these two magnificent dogs was on 
some fur rugs on my study floor. Several times have we wit- 
nessed the following action in Cuffy, who w'as of a much more 
restless temperament than Jack: When she wanted to leave the 
study she would invariably first go to the door and try it. If it 
were in the slightest degree ajar she could easily draw it toward 
her and thus open it. If, on the contrary, it were latched, she 
would at once march over to Jack, and, taking him by an ear with 
her teeth, would lead him over to the door, which he at once opened 
for her. If reason is that power by wdiich w^e " are enabled to 
combine means for the attainment of particular ends," I fail to 
understand the meaning of w^ords if it were not displayed in these 

Both Jack and Cuffy were, as is characteristic of such dogs, 
very fond of the water, and in our short, brilliant summers would 
frequently disport themselves in the beautiful little lake, the shores 
of which were close to our home. Cuffy, as a Newfoundland dog, 
generally preferred to continue her sports in the waves some time 
after Jack had finished his bath. As they were inseparable com- 
panions. Jack was too loyal to retire to the house until Cuffy was 
i-eady to accompany him. As she was sometimes whimsical and 
dilatory, she seemed frequently to try his patience. It was, how- 
ever, always interesting to observe his deference to her. To un- 
derstand thoroughly what we are going to relate in proof of our 
argument it is necessary to state that the rocky shore in front of 
our home was at this particular place like a wedge, the thickest 
part in front, rising up about a dozen feet or so abruptly from the 
water. Then to the east the shore gradually sloped down into a 
little sandy cove. When Jack had finished his bath ho always 
swam to this sandy beach, and at once, as he shook his groat body, 
came gamboling along the rocks, joyously barking to his companion 
still in the waters. When Cuffy had finished her watery sports, 
if Jack were still on the rocks, instead of swimming to the sandy 
cove and there landing she would start directly for the place where 
Jack was awaiting her. If it wore at a spot where she could not 
alone struggle up, Jack, firmly bracing himself, would roach down to 
hor and then, catching hold of the l)ack of her neck, would help her 


up the slippery rocks. If it were at a spot where lie could uot pos- 
sibly reach her, he would, after several attempts, all the time furi- 
ously barking as though expressing his anxiety and solicitude, rush 
off to a spot where some old oars, paddles, and sticks of various 
kinds were piled. There he searched until he secured one that 
suited his purpose. "With this in his mouth, he hurried back to 
the spot where Cuff'y was still in the water at the base of the steep 
rocks. Here he would work the stick around until he was able 
to let one end down within reach of his exacting companion in the 
water. Seizing it in her teeth and with the powerful Jack pulling 
at the other end she was soon able to work her way up the rough 
but almost perpendicular rocks. This prompt action, often re- 
peated on the part of Jack, looked very much like " the specious 
appearance of reasoning." It was a remarkable coincidence that 
if Jack were called away, Cuffy at once swam to the sandy beach 
and there came ashore. 

Jack never had any special love for the Indians, although we 
were then living among them. He was, however, too well in- 
structed ever to injure or even growl at any of them. The chang- 
ing of Indian servant girls in the kitchen was alwaj^s a matter of 
perplexity to him. He was suspicious of these strange Indians 
coming in and so familiarly handling the various utensils of their 
work. ]^ot daring to injure them, it was amusing to watch him 
in his various schemes to tease them. If one of them seemed 
especially anxious to keep the doors shut. Jack took the greatest 
delight in frequently opening them. This he took care only to do 
when no member of the family was around. These tricks he would 
continue to do until formal complaints were lodged against him. 
One good scolding was sufficient to deter him from thus teasing that 
girl, but he would soon begin to try it with others. 

One summer we had a fat, good-natured servant girl whom we 
called Mary. Soon after she was installed in her place Jack began, 
as usual, to try to annoy her, but found it to be a more difficult 
job than it had been with some of her predecessors. She treated 
him with complete indifference, and was not in the least afraid of 
him, big as he w^as. This seemed to very much humiliate him, as 
most of the other girls had so stood in awe of the gigantic fellow 
that they had about given way to him in everything. Mary, how- 
ever, did nothing of the kind. She would shout, " Get out of my 
way ! " as quickly to " his mightiness " as she would to the smallest 
dog on the place. This very much offended Jack, but he had been 
so well trained, even regarding the servants, that he dare not 
retaliate even with a growl. Mary, however, had one weakness, 
and after a time Jack found it out. Her mistress observing that 


this girl, who had been transferred from a floorless wigwam into 
a civilized kitchen, was at first careless about keeping the floor 
as clean as it should be, had, by the promise of some desired gift 
in addition to her wages, so fired her zeal that it seemed as though 
every hour that could be saved from her other necessary duties was 
spent in scrubbing that kitchen floor. Mary was never difficult 
to find, as was often the case with other Indian girls; if missed 
from other duties, she was always found scrubbing her kitchen. 

In some way or other — how we do not profess to know — Jack 
discovered this, which had become to us a source of amusement, 
and here he succeeded in annoying her, where in many other ways 
which he had tried he had only been humiliated and disgraced. He 
would, when the floor had just been scrubbed, march in and walk 
over it with his feet made as dirty as tramping in the worst places 
outside could make them. At other times he would plunge into 
the lake, and instead of, as usual, thoroughly shaking himself dry 
on the rocks, would wait until he had marched in upon Mary's 
spotless floor. At other times, when Jack noticed that Mary was 
about to begin scrubbing her floor he would deliberately stretch 
himself out in a prominent place on it, and doggedly resist, yet 
without any growling or biting, any attempt on her part to get 
him to move. In vain would she coax or scold or threaten. Once 
or twice, by some clever stratagem, such as pretending to feed the 
other dogs outside or getting them excited and furiously barking, 
as though a bear or some other animal were being attacked, did 
she succeed in getting him out. But soon he found her out, and 
then he paid not the slightest attention to any of these things. 
Once when she had him outside she securely fastened the door to 
keep him out until her scrubbing would be done; Furiously did 
Jack rattle at the latch, but the door was otherwise so secured 
that he could not open it. Getting discouraged in his efforts to 
open the door in the usual way, he went to the woodpile and seizing 
a large billet in his mouth he came and so pounded the door with 
it that Mary, seeing that there was great danger of the panel being- 
broken in, was obliged to open the door and let in the dog. Jack 
proudly marched in to the kitchen with the stick of wood in his 
mouth. This he carried to the wood box, and, when he had placed 
it there, he coolly stretched himself out on the floor where he would 
be the biggest nuisance. 

Seeing Jack under such circumstances on her kitchen floor, 
poor ]\[ary could stand it no longer, and so she came marching in 
to my study, and in vigorous picturesque language in her native 
Cree described Jack's various tricks and schemes to annoy her and 
thus hinder her in her work. She ended up by the declaration 


that she was sure the meechee munedoo (the devil) was in that dog. 
While not fnlly accepting the last statement, we felt that the 
time had come to interfere, and that Jack must be reproved and 
stopped. In doing this we utilized Jack's love for our little ones, 
especially for Eddie, the little four-year-old boy. His obedience 
as well as loyalty to that child was marvelous and beautiful. The 
slightest wish of the lad was law to Jack. 

As soon as Mary had finished her emphatic complaints, I turned 
to Eddie, who with his little sister had been busily playing with 
some blocks on the floor, and said: 

'' Eddie, go and tell that naughty J ack that he must stop teas- 
ing Mary. Tell him his place is not in the kitchen, and that he 
must keep out of it." 

Eddie had listened to Mary's story, and, although he generally 
sturdily defended Jack's various actions, yet here he saw^ that the 
dog was in the wrong, and so he gallantly came to her rescue. Away 
with Mary he went, while the rest of us, now much interested, 
followed in the rear to see how the thing would turn out. As 
I]ddie and Mary passed through the dining room we remained in 
that room, while they went on into the adjoining kitchen, leaving 
the door open, so that it was possible for us to distinctly hear 
every word that was uttered. Eddie at once strode up to the spot 
where Jack was stretched upon the floor. Seizing him by one of his 
ears, and addressing him as with the authority of a despot, the little 
lad said: 

" I am ashamed of you, Jack. You naughty dog, teasing Mary 
like this! So you won't let her wash her kitchen. Get up and 
come with me, you naughty dog! " saying which the child tugged 
away at the ear of the dog. Jack promptly obeyed, and as they 
came marching through the dining room on their way to the study 
it was indeed wonderful to see that little child, whose beautiful 
curly head was not much higher than that of the great, powerful 
dog, yet so completely the master. Jack was led into the study 
and over to the great wolf-robe mat where he generally slept. 
As he promptly obeyed the child's command to lie down upon it, he 
received from him his final orders: 

" j^ow. Jack, you keep out of the kitchen " ; and to a remark- 
able degree from that time on that order was obeyed. 

AYe have referred to the fact that Jack placed the billet of 
wood in the wood box when it had served his purpose in compelling 
Mary to open the door. Carrying in wood was one of his accom- 
plishments. Living in that cold land, where we depended entirely 
on wood for our fuel, we required a large quantity of it. It was 
cut in the forests, sometimes several miles from the house. Dur- 


ing tlie winters it was dragged home bj the dogs. Here it was 
cut into the proper lengths for the stoves and piled up in the yard. 
AVhen required, it was carried into the kitchen and piled up in a 
large wood box. This work was generally done by Indian men. 
When none w^ere at hand the Indian girls had to do the work, but 
it was far from being enjoyed by them, especially in the bitter cold 
weather. It was suggested one day that Jack could be utilized 
for this work. With but little instruction and trouble he was in- 
duced to accept of the situation, and so after that the cry, " Jack, 
the wood box is empty! " would set him industriously to work at 
refilling it. 

To us, among many other instances of dog reasoning that came 
under our notice as the years rolled on, was one on the part of 
a large, powerful dog we called Cajsar. It occurred in tlic spring 
of the year, when the snow had melted on the land, and so, with the 
first rains, was swelling the rivers and creeks very considerably. 
On the lake before us the ice was still a great solid mass, several 
feet in thickness. Near our home was a now rapid stream that, 
rushing down into the lake, had cut a delta of open water in the 
ice at its mouth. In this open place Papanekis, one of my Indians, 
had placed a gill net for the purpose of catching fish. Li^dng, as 
he did, all winter principally upon the fish caught the previous 
October or November and kept frozen for several months hung 
up in the open air, we w^ere naturally pleased to get the fresh 
ones out of the water in the spring. Papanekis had so arranged 
his net, by fastening a couple of ropes about sixty feet long, one 
at each end, that when it was securely fastened at each side of the 
stream it was carried out into this open deltalike space by the force 
of the current, and there hung like the capital letter U. Its upper 
side was kept in position by light-wooded floats, while medium-sized 
stones, as sinkers, steadied it below. 

Every morning Papanekis would take a basket and, being fol- 
lowed by all the dogs of the kennels, would visit his net. Placed 
as we have described, he required no canoe or boat in order to 
overhaul it and take from it the fish there caught. All he had to 
do was to seize hold of the rope at the end fastened on the shore 
and draw it toward him. As he ke])t pulling it in, the deep bend in 
it gradually straightened out until the net was reached. His work 
was now to secure the fish as he gradually drew in the net and 
coiled it at his feet. The width of the opening in the water being 
about sixty feet, the result was that when he had in this way over- 
hauled his net he had about reached the end of the rope attached 
to the other side. When all the fish in the net Avere secured, all 
Papanekis had to do to reset tlie net was to throw some of it out 


in the right position in the stream. Here the force of the run- 
ning waters acting upon it soon carried the whole net do\vTi into 
the open place as far as the two ropes fastened on the shores would 
admit. Paj)anekis, after placing the best fish in his basket for 
consumption in the mission house and for his own family, divided 
what was left among the eager dogs that had accompanied him. 
This work went on for several days, and the supply of fish con- 
tinued to increase, much to our satisfaction. 

One day Papanekis came into my study in a state of great per- 
turbation. He was generally such a quiet, stoical sort of an In- 
dian that I was at once attracted by his mental disquietude. On 
asking the reason why he was so troubled, he at once blurted out, 
"Master, there is some strange animal visiting our net! " 

In answer to my request for particulars, he replied that for some 
mornings past when he went to visit it he found, entangled in the 
meshes, several heads of whitefish. Yet the net was always in 
its right position in the water. On my suggesting that perhaps 
otters, fishers, minks, or other fish-eating animals might have done 
the work, he most emphatically declared that he knew the habits 
of all these and all other animals living on fish, and it was utterly 
impossible for any of them to have thus done this work. The 
mystery continuing for several following mornings, Papanekis 
became frightened and asked me to get some other fisherman in 
his place, as he was afraid longer to visit the net. He had talked 
the matter over with some other Indians, and they had come to the 
conclusion that either a ivindegoo was at the bottom of it or the 
meechee munedoo (the devil). I laughed at his fears, and told him 
I would help him to try and find out who or what it was that was 
giving us this trouble. I went with him to the place, where we 
carefully examined both sides of the stream for evidences of the 
clever thief. There was nothing suspicious, and the only tracks 
visible were those of his own and of the many dogs that followed 
him to be fed each morning. About two or three hundred yards 
north of the spot where he overhauled the net there rose a small 
abru}:)t hill, densely covered with spruce and balsam trees. On 
visiting it we found that a person there securely hid from obser- 
vation could with care easily overlook the Avliole locality. 

At my suggestion, Papanekis with his axe there arranged a 
sort of a nest or lookout spot. Orders were then given that he 
and another Indian man should, before daybreak on the next morn- 
ing, make a long detour and cautiously reach that spot from the 
rear, and there carefully conceal themselves. This they succeeded 
in doing, and there, in perfect stillness, they waited for the morn- 
ing. As soon as it was possible to see anything they were on 
TOL. Lvi — 10 


the alert. For some time they watelicd in vain. They eagerly 
scanned every point of vision, and for a time could observe noth- 
ing iinnsnal. 

" Ilnsh! " said one; "see that dog! " 

It was Csesar, cautiously skulking along the trail. He would 
frequently stop and sniff the air. Fortunately for the Indian 
watchers, the wind was blowing toward them, and so the dog did 
not catch their scent. On he came, in a quiet yet swift gait, until 
he reached the spot where Papanekis stood when he pulled in the 
net. He gave one searching glance in every direction, and then he 
set to work. Seizing the rope in his teeth, Caesar strongly pulled 
upon it, while he rapidly backed up some distance on the trail. 
Then, walking on the rope to the water's edge as it lay on the 
ground, to keep the pressure of the current from dragging it in, 
he again took a fresh grip upon it and repeated the process. This 
he did until the sixty feet of rope were hauled in, and the end of 
the net was reached to which it was attached. The net he now 
hauled in little by little, keeping his feet firmly on it to securely 
hold it down. As he drew it up, several varieties of inferior fish, 
such as suckers or mullets, pike or jackfish, were at first observed. 
To them Caesar paid no attention. He was after the delicious 
whitefish, which dogs as well as human beings prefer to those of 
other kinds. When he had perhaps hauled twenty feet of the net, 
his cleverness was rewarded by the sight of a fine whitefish. Still 
holding the net with its struggling captives securely down with his 
feet, he began to devour this whitefish, which was so much more 
dainty than the coarser fish generally thrown to him. Papanekis 
and his comrade had seen enough. The mysterious culprit was de- 
tected in the act, and so with a " Whoop! " they rushed down upon 
him. Caught in the very act, Cassar had to submit to a thrashing 
that ever after deterred him from again trying that cunning trick. 
Who can read this story, which I give exactly as it occurred, 
Avithout having to admit that here Cajsar " combined means for 
the attainment of particular ends "? On the previous visits which 
he made to the net the rapid current of the stream, working against 
the greater part of it in the water, soon carried it back again into its 
place ere Papanekis arrived later in the morning. The result was 
that Caesar's cleverness was undetected for some time, even by these 
most observant Indians. 

Many other equally clever instances convince me, and those 
who with me witnessed them, of the possession, in of course a lim- 
ited degree, of reasoning powers. Scores of my dogs never seemed 
to reveal them, perhaps because no special opportunities were pre- 
sented for their exhibition. They were just ordinary dogs, trained 


to the work of hauling their loads. AVhen night came, if their 
feet were sore they had dog sense enough to come to their master 
and, throwing themselves on their backs, would stick up their 
feet and whine and howl until the warm duffle shoes were put 
on. Some of the skulking ones had wit enough, when they did 
not want to he caught, in the gloom of the early morning, 
while the stars were still shining, if they were white, to cuddle 
down, still and quiet, in the beautiful snow; while the darker ones 
would slink away into the gloom of the dense balsams, where they 
seemed to know that it would be difficult for them to be seen. 
Some of them had wit enough when traveling up steep places with 
heavy loads, where their progress was slow, to seize hold of small 
firm bushes in their teeth to help them up or to keep them from 
slipping back. Some of them knew how to shirk their work. 
Caesar, of whom we have already spoken, at times was one of this 
class. They could pretend, by their panting and tugging at their 
collars, that they Avere dragging more than any other dogs in the 
train, while at the same time they were not pulling a pound ! 

Of cats I do not write. I am no lover of them, and therefore 
am incompetent to write about them. This lack of love for them 
is, I presume, from the fact that when a boy I was the proud owner 
of some very beautiful rabbits, upon which the cats of the neigh- 
borhood used to make disastrous raids. So great was my boyish 
indignation then that the dislike to them created has in a measure 
continued to this day, and I have not as yet begun to cultivate 
their intimate acquaintance. 

But of dogs I have ever been a lover and a friend. I never 
saw one, not mad, of which I was afraid, and I never saw one with 
w^hich I could not speedily make friends. Love was the constrain- 
ing motive principally used in breaking my dogs in to their work 
in the trains. ISTo whip was ever used upon Jack or Cuffy while 
they were learning their tasks. Some dogs had to be punished 
more or less. Some stubborn dogs at once surrendered and gave 
no more trouble when a favorite female dog was harnessed up in 
a train and sent on ahead. This affection in the dog for his mate 
was a powerful lever in the hands of his master, and, using it as an 
incentive, we have seen things performed as remarkable as any we 
have here recorded. 

From what I have written it will be seen that I have had un- 
usual facilities for studying the habits and possibilities of dogs. 
I was not under the necessity of gathering up a lot of mongrels 
at random in the streets, and then, in order to see instances of their 
sagacity and the exercise of their highest reasoning powers, to 
keep them until they were " practically utterly hungry," and then 


imprison them in a box a good deal less tlian four feet square, and 
then say to them, " Now, you poor, frightened, half-starved crea- 
tures, show us what reasoning powers you possess." About as 
well throw some benighted Africans into a slave ship and order 
them to make a telephone or a phonograpli ! My comparison is 
not too strong, considering the immense distance there is between 
the human race and the brute creation. And so it must be, in the 
bringing to light of the powers of memory and the clear exhibi- 
tion of the reasoning powers, few though they be, that the tests are 
not conclusive unless made under the most favorable environment, 
upon dogs of the highest intelligence, and in the most congenial and 
sympathetic manner. 

Testing this most interesting question in this manner, my de- 
cided convictions are that animals do reason. 


NO man among Americans has studied the micro-organisms 
with more profit or has contributed more to our knowledge 
of the nature of infection, particularly of that of yellow fever, than 
Dr. George M. Steris'berg, of the United States Army. His 
merits are freely recognized abroad, and he ranks there, as well 
as at home, among the leading bacteriologists of the age. He was 
born at Hartwick Seminary, an institution of the Evangelical Lu- 
theran Church in America (General Synod), Otsego, N. Y., June 
8, 1838. His father, the Rev. Levi Sternberg, D. D., a graduate 
of Union College, a Lutheran minister, and for many years prin- 
cipal of the seminary and a director of it, was descended from Ger- 
man ancestors who came to this country in 1703 and settled in 
Schoharie County, New York. The younger Sternberg received 
his academical training at the seminary, after which, intending 
to study medicine, he undertook a school at New Germantown, 
N. J., as a means of earning a part of the money required to de- 
fray the cost of his instruction in that science. The record of his 
school was one of quiet sessions, thoroughness, and popularity of 
the teacher, and his departure was an occasion of regret among 
his patrons. 

"When nineteen years old, young Sternberg began his medical 
studies with Dr. Horace Lathrop, in Cooperstown, N. Y. After- 
ward he attended the courses of the College of Physicians and Sur- 
geons, New York, and was graduated thence in the class of 1860. 
Before he had fairly settled in practice the civil war began, and the 


attention of all young Americans "vvas directed toward the mili- 
tary service. Among these was young Dr. Sternberg, who, having 
passed the examination, was appointed assistant surgeon May 28, 
1861, and was attached to the command of General Sykes, Army 
of the Potomac. He was engaged in the battle of Bull Run, where, 
voluntarily remaining on the field with the wounded, he was taken 
prisoner, but was paroled to continue his humane work. On the 
expiration of his parole he made his way through the lines and re- 
ported at Washington for duty July 30, 1861 — " weary, footsore, 
and worn." Of his conduct in later campaigns of the Army of the 
Potomac, General Sykes, in his official reports of the battles of 
Gaines Mill, Turkey Ridge, and Malvern Hill, said that " Dr. Stern- 
berg added largely to the reputation already acquired on the dis- 
astrous field of Bull Run," He remained with General Sykes's 
command till August, 1862; was then assigned to hospital duty at 
Portsmouth Grove, R. I., till Xovember, 1862; w^as afterward at- 
tached to General Banks's expedition as assistant to the medical 
director in the Department of the Gulf till January, 1864; was in 
the office of the medical director, Columbus, Ohio, and in charge 
of the United States General Hospital at Cleveland, Ohio, till 
July, 1865. Since the civil w^ar he has been assigned successively 
to Jefi^erson Barracks, Mo.; Fort Harker and Fort Riley, Kansas; 
in the field in the Indian campaign, 1868 to 1870; Forts Columbus 
and Hamilton, New York Harbor; Fort "Warren, Boston Harbor; 
Department of the Gulf and Xew Orleans; Fort Barrancas, Fla. ; 
Department of the Columbia; Department Headquarters; Fort 
Walla Walla, Washington Territory; California; and Eastern sta- 
tions. He was promoted to be captain and assistant surgeon in 
1866, major and surgeon in 1875, lieutenant colonel and deputy 
surgeon general in 1891, and brigadier general and surgeon general 
in 1893. He has also received the brevets of captain and major in 
the United States Army " for faithful and meritorious services 
during the Avar, and of lieutenant colonel " for gallant service in 
performance of his professional duty under fire in action against In- 
dians at Clearwater, Idaho, July 12, 1877." In the discharge of 
his duties at his various posts Dr. Sternberg had to deal with a 
cholera epidemic in Kansas in 1867, with a "yellow-fever epi- 
demic " in New York Harbor in 1871, and with epidemics of yel- 
low fever at Fort Barrancas, Fla., in 1873 and 1875. He served 
under special detail as member and secretary of the Havana Yel- 
low-Fever Commission of the National Board of Health, 1879 
to 1881; as a delegate from the United States under special in- 
structions of the Secretary of State to the International Sani- 
tary Conference at Rome in 1885; as a commissioner, under 


the act of Congress of March 3, 1887, to make investigations in 
Brazil, Mexico, and Cuba relating to the etiology and preven- 
tion of yellow fever; by special request of the health officer of 
the port of Xew York and the advisory committee of the New 
York Chamber of Commerce as consulting bacteriologist to the 
health officer of the port of New York in 1892; and he was 
a delegate to the International Medical Congress in Moscow in 

Dr. Sternberg has contributed largely to the literature of sci- 
entific medicine from the results of his observations and experi- 
ments which he has made in these various spheres of duty. 

His most fruitful researches have been made in the field of 
bacteriology and infectious diseases. He has enjoyed the rare 
advantage in pursuing these studies of having the material for 
his experiments close at hand in the course of his regular work, 
and of watching, we might say habitually, the progress of such 
diseases as yellow fever as it normally went on in the course of 
Nature. Of the quality of his bacteriological work, the writer 
of a biography in Eed Cross Notes, reprinted in the North American 
Medical Review, goes so far as to say that " when the overzeal of 
enthusiasts shall have passed away, and the story of bacteriology 
in the nineteenth century is written up, it will probably be found 
that the chief who brought light out of darkness was George M. 
Sternberg. He was noted not so much for his brilliant discoveries, 
but rather for his exact methods of investigation, for his clear 
statements of the results of experimental data, for his enormous 
labors toward the perfection and simplification of technique, and 
finally for his services in the practical application of the truths 
taught by the science. His early labors in bacteriology were made 
with apparatus and under conditions that were crude enough." 
His work in this department is certainly among the most important 
that has been done. Its value has been freely acknowledged every- 
where, it has given him a world-wide fame, and it has added to the 
credit of American science. The reviewer in Nature (June 22, 
1893) of his Manual of Bacteriology, which was published in 1892, 
while a little disposed to criticise the fullness and large size of the 
book, describes it as " the latest, the largest, and, let us add, the 
most complete manual of bacteriology which has yet appeared in the 
English language. The volume combines in itself not only an ac- 
count of such facts as are already established in the science from a 
morphological, chemical, and pathological point of view, discus- 
sions on such abstruse subjects as susceptibility and immunity, and 
also full details of the means by which these results have been ob- 
tained, and practical directions for the carrying on of laboratory 


work." This was not the first of Dr. Sternberg's works in bac- 
teriological research. It was preceded by a work on Bacteria, of 
498 pages, inclnding 152 pages translated from the work of Dr. 
Antoine Magnin (1884); Malaria and Malarial Diseases, and Pho- 
tomicrographs and How to make Them. The manual is at once a 
book for reference, a text-book for students, and a handbook for 
the laboratory. Its four parts include brief notices of the history 
of the subject, classification, morphology, and an account of meth- 
ods and practical laboratory work — "all clear and concise"; the 
biology and chemistry of bacteria, disinfection, and antiseptics; a 
detailed account of pathogenic bacteria, their modes of action, the 
way they may gain access to the system, susceptibility and immu- 
nity, to which Dr. Sternberg's own contributions have been not 
the least important; and saprophytic bacteria in water, in the soil, 
in or on the human body, and in food, the whole number of sapro- 
phytes described being three hundred and thirty-one. " The merit 
of a work of this kind," Nature says, " depends not less on the 
number of species described than on the clearness and accuracy of 
the descriptions, and Dr. Sternberg has spared no pains to make 
these as complete as possible." The bibliography in this work 
fills more than a hundred pages, and contains 2,582 references. 
A later book on a kindred subject is Immunity, Protective Inocu- 
lations, and Serum Therapy (1895). Dr. Sternberg has also pub- 
lished a Text-Book of Bacteriology. 

Bearing upon yellow fever are the Report upon the Preven- 
tion of Yellow Fever by Inoculation, submitted in March, 1888; 
Report upon the Prevention of Yellow Fever, illustrated by photo- 
micrographs and cuts, 1890; and Examination of the Blood in Yel- 
low Fever (experiments upon animals, etc.), in the Preliminary 
Report of the Havana Yellow-Fever Commission, 1879. Other 
publications in the list of one hundred and thirty-one titles of Dr. 
Sternberg's works, and mostly consisting of shorter articles, relate 
to Disinfectants and their Value, the Etiology of Malarial Fevers, 
Septicaemia, the Germicide Value of Therapeutic Agents, the Eti- 
ology of Croupous Pneumonia, the Bacillus of Typhoid Fever, the 
Thermal Death Point of Pathogenic Organisms, the Practical Re- 
sults of Bacteriological Researches, the Cholera Spirillum, Disin- 
fection at Quarantine Stations, the Infectious Agent of Smallpox, 
official reports as Surgeon General of the United States Army, ad- 
dresses and reports at the meetings of the American Public Health 
Association, and an address to the members of the Pan-American 
Congress. One paper is recorded quite outside of the domain of 
microbes and fevers, to show what the author might have done if 
he had allowed his attention to be diverted from his special absorb- 


iiig field of work. It is upon the Iiidiau Burial Mounds and Shell 
Heaps near Pensacola, Fla. 

The medical and scientific societies of -which Dr. Sternberg is 
a member include the American Public Health Association, of 
which he is also an ex-president (1886); the American Association 
of Physicians; the American Physiological Society; the American 
Microscopical Society, of which he is a vice-president; the Ameri- 
can Association for the Advancement of Science, of which he is a 
Fellow; the Xew York Academy of Medicine (a Fellow); and the 
Association of Military Surgeons of the United States (president 
in 1896). He is a Fellow of the Royal Microscopical Society of 
London; an honorary member of the Fpidemiological Society of 
London, of the Royal xicademy of Medicine of Rome, of the Acad- 
emy of Medicine of Rio de Janeiro, of the American Academy of 
Medicine, of the French Society of Hygiene, etc. ; was President of 
the Section on Military Medicine and Surgery of the Pan-American 
Congress; was a Fellow by courtesy in Johns Hopkins University, 
1885 to 1890; was President of the Biological Society of "Wash- 
ington in 1896, and of the American Medical Association in 1S97; 
and has been designated Honorary President of the Thirteenth In- 
ternational Medical Congress, which is to meet in Paris in 1900. 
He received the degree of LL. D. from the University of Michigan 
in 1894, and from Brown University in 1897. 

Dr. Sternberg's view of the right professional standard of the 
physician is well expressed in the sentiment, "To maintain our stand- 
ing in the estimation of- the educated classes we must not rely upon 
our diplomas or upon our membership in medical societies. Work 
and worth are what count." He does not appear to be attached 
to any particular school, but, as his Red Cross ^N^otes biographer 
says, " has placed himself in the crowd ' who have been moving 
forward upon the substantial basis of scientific research, and who, 
if characterized by any distinctive name, should be called the New 
School of Scientific Medicine.'' He holds that if our practice was 
in accordance with our knowledge many diseases would disappear; 
he sees no room for creeds or patents in medicine. He is willing 
to acknowledge the right to prescribe cither a bread pill or a leaden 
bullet. But if a patient dies from diphtheria because of a failure 
to administer a proper remedy, or if infection follows from dirty 
fingers or instruments, if a practitioner carelessly or ignorantly 
transfers infection, he believes he is not fit to practice medicine. 
. . . He rejects every theory or dictum that has not been clearly 
demonstrated to him as an absolute truth." 

AVhile he is described as without assumption, Dr. Sternberg is 
represented as being evidently in his headquarters as surgeon gen- 


. eral in every sense tlie head of the service, the chief whose will 
governs all. Modest and unassuming, he is described as being most 
exacting, a man of command, of thorough execution, a general 
whose eyes comprehend every detail, and who has studied the per- 
sonality of every member of his corps. He is always busy, but 
seemingly never in a hurry; systematic, accepting no man's dictum, 
and taking nothing as an established fact till he has personal experi- 
mental evidence of its truth. He looks into every detail, and takes 
equal care of the health of the general in chief and of the private. 
His addresses are carefully prepared, based on facts he has 
himself determined, made in language so plain that they will not 
be misunderstood, free from sentiment, and delivered in an easy 
conversational style, and his writings are " pen pictures of his re- 
sults in the laboratory and clinic room." 

The thirty-first year of the Peabody Museum of American Archaeology 
and Ethnolog'y was signalized by the transfer of its property to the corpo- 
ration of Harvard College, whereby simplicity and greater permanence 
have been given to its management. The four courses of instruction in 
the museum were attended by sixteen students, and these, with others, make 
twenty-one persons, besides the curator, who are engaged in study or special 
research in subjects included under the term anthropology. Special atten- 
tion is given by explorers in the service of the museum to the investigation 
of the antiquities of Yucatan and Central America, of which its publications 
on Copan, the caves of Loltun, and Labna, have been noticed in the Monthly. 
These explorations have been continued when and where circumstances 
made it feasible. Among the gifts acknowledged in the report of the 
museum are two hundred facsimile copies of the Aztec Codex Vaticanus, 
from the Duke of Loubat, an original Mexican manuscript of 1531, on 
agave paper, from the Mary Hemenway estate ; the extensive private 
archaeological collection of Mr. George W. Hammond ; articles from 
Georgia mounds, from Clarence B. Moore, and other gifts of perhaps less mag- 
nitude but equal interest. Mr. Andrew Gibb, of Edinburgh, has given five 
pieces of rudely made pottery from the Hebrides, which were made several 
years ago by a woman who is thought to have been the last one to make pot- 
tery according to the ancient method of shaping the clay with the hands, and 
without the use of any form of potter's wheel. Miss Maria Whitney, sister 
of the late Prof. J. D. Whitney, has presented the " Calaveras skull " and 
the articles found with it, and all the original documents relating to its 
discovery and history. Miss Phebe Ferris, of Madisonville, Ohio, has 
bequeathed to the museum about twenty-five acres of land, on which is 
situated the ancient mound where Dr. Metz and Curator Putnam have 
investigated for several years, and whence a considerable collection has 
been obtained. Miss Ferris expressed the desire that the museum continue 
the explorations, and after completing convert the tract into a public park. 
Mr. W. B. Nicker has explored some virgin mounds near Galena, 111., and 
a rock shelter and stone grave near Portage, 111. The library of the museum 
now contains 1,838 volumes and 2,^79 pamphlets on anthropology. 




Editor Popular Science Monthly : 

Dear Sir: In connection with the 
discussion of the interesting subject Do 
Animals Reason? permit me to relate 
the following incident in support of the 
affirmative side of the question: 

Some j-ears ago. before the establish- 
ment of the National Zoological Park in 
this city, Dr. Frank Baker, the curator, 
kept a small nucleus of animals in the 
rear of the National Museum; among 
this collection were several monkeys. 
On a hot summer day, as I was passing 
the monkey cage I handed to one of the 
monkeys a large piece of fresh molasses 
taffy. The animal at once carried it to 
his mouth and commenced to bite it. 
The candy was somewhat soft, and stuck 
to the monkey's paws. He looked at his 
paws, licked them with his tongue, and 
then turned his head from side to side 

looking about the cage. Then, taking 
the candy in his mouth, he sprang to 
the fartlier end of the cage and picked 
up a wad of brown paper. This ball of 
paper he carefully unfolded, and, lay- 
ing it down on the floor of the cage, 
carefully smoothed out the folds of the 
paper with both paws. After he had 
smoothed it out to his satisfaction, he 
took the piece of taffy from his mouth 
and laid it in the center of the piece 
of paper and folded the paper over the 
candy, leaving a part of it exposed. He 
then sat back on his haunches and ate 
the candy, first wiping one paw and 
then the other on his hip, just as any 
boy or man might do. 

If that monkey did not show reason, 
what would you call it? 

Yours etc., H. O. Hall, 
Library Snrgeon General's Office, United 
l^iitates Army. 
Washington, D. C, October 2, 1809. 

Editor's ^^mt. 


THE doctrine has gone abroad, 
suggested by the most popular 
poet of the day, that "white men" 
have the duty laid upon them of 
scouring the dark places of the earth 
for burdens to take up. Through a 
large part of this nation the idea 
has run like wildfire, infecting not a 
few who themselves are in no small 
degree burdens to the community 
that shelters them. The rowdier 
element of the population every- 
where is strongly in favor of the 
new doctrine, which to their minds 
is chiefly illustrated by the shoot- 
ing of Filipinos. We do not say 
that thousands of very respectable 
citizens are not in favor of it also; 
we only note that they are strongly 
supported by a class whose adhesion 
adds no strength to their cause. 
It is almost needless to remark 

that a very few years ago we were 
not in the way of thinking that the 
civilized nations of the earth, which 
had sliced up Asia and Africa in the 
interest of their trade, had done 
so in the performance of a solemn 
duty. The formula " the white 
man's burden " had not been in- 
vented then, and some of us used 
to think that there was more of the 
filibustering spirit than of a high 
humanitarianism in these raids 
upon barbarous races. Possibly we 
did less than justice to some of the 
countries concerned, notably Great 
Britain, which, having a teeming 
population in very narrow confines, 
and being of old accustomed to ad- 
ventures by sea, had naturally been 
led to extend her influence and cre- 
ate outlets for her trade in distant 
parts of the earth. Be this as it 
may, we seemed to have our own 



work cut out for us at home. TTe 
had the breadth of a continent un- 
der our feet, rich in the products 
of every latitude ; we had unlimited 
room for expansion and develop- 
ment; we had unlimited confidence 
in the destinies that awaited us as 
a nation, if only we applied our- 
selves earnestly to the improvement 
of the heritage which, in the order 
of Providence, had become ours. 
We thanked Heaven that we were 
not as other nations, which, insuf- 
ficiently provided with home bless- 
ings, were tempted to put forth 
their hands and — steal, or something 
like it, in heathen lands. 

Well, we have changed all that : 
we give our sympathy to the nations 
of the Old World in their forays on 
the heathen, and are vigorously 
tackling " the white man's burden " 
according to the revised version. 
It is unfortunate and quite unpleas- 
ant that this should involve shoot- 
ing down people who are only ask- 
ing what our ancestors asked and 
obtained — the right of self-govern- 
ment in the land they occupy. 
Still, we must do it if we want to 
keep up with the procession we have 
joined. Smoking tobacco is not 
pleasant to the youth of fifteen or 
sixteen who has determined to line 
up with his elders in that manly 
accomplishment. He has many a 
sick stomach, many a flutter of the 
heart, before he breaks himself into 
it; but, of course, he perseveres — 
has he not taken up the white boy's 
burden ? So we. • Who, outside of 
that rowdy element to which we 
have referred, has not been, whether 
he has confessed it or not, sick at 
heart at the thought of the innocent 
blood we have shed and of the blood 
of our kindred that we have shed in 
order to shed that blood? Still, 
spite of all misgivings and qualms, 
we hold our course, Kipling leading 
on, and the colonel of the Rough 
Eiders assuring us that it is all 

Revised versions are not always 
the best versions; and for our own 
part we prefer to think that the true 
" white man's burden " is that which 
lies at his own door, and not that 
which he has to compass land and 
sea to come in sight of. We have 
in this land the burden of a not 
inconsiderable tramp and hoodlum 
population. This is a burden of 
which we can never very long lose 
sight; it is more or less before us 
every day. It is a burden in a ma- 
terial sense, and it is a burden in 
what we may call a spiritual sense. 
It impairs the satisfaction we de- 
rive from our own citizenship, and 
it lies like a weight on the social 
conscience. It is the opprobrium 
alike of our educational system and 
of our administration of the law. 
How far would the national treasure 
and individual energy which we have 
expended in failing to subdue the 
Filipino " rebels " have gone — if 
wisely applied — in subduing the 
rebel elements in our own popula- 
tion, and rescuing from degrada- 
tion those whom our public schools 
have failed to civilize? Shall the 
reply be that we can not interfere 
with individual liberty? It would 
be a strange reply to come from 
people who send soldiers ten thou- 
sand miles away for the express pur- 
pose of interfering with liberty as 
the American nation has always 
hitherto understood that term; but, 
in point of fact, there is no ques- 
tion of interfering with any liberty 
that ought to be respected. It is 
a question of the protection of pub- 
lic morals, of public decency, and 
of the rights of property. It is a 
question of the rescue of human 
beings — our fellow-citizens — from 
ignorance, vice, and wretchedness. 
It is a question of making us as a 
nation right with ourselves, and 
making citizenship under our flag 
something to be prized by every one 
entitled to claim it. 

It is not in the cities only that 



undesirable elements cluster. The 
editor of a lively little periodical, 
in which many true things are said 
with great force — The Philistine — 
has lately declared that his own vil- 
lage, despite the refining influences 
radiated from the " Roycroft Shop," 
could furnish a band of hoodlum 
youths that could give points in 
every form of vile behavior to any 
equal number gathered from a great 
city. He hints that New England 
villages may be a trifle better, but 
that the farther Western States are 
decidedly worse. It is precisely in 
Kew England, however, that a bitter 
cry on this very subject of hoodlum- 
ism has lately been raised. What 
are we to do about it? 

Manifestly the hoodlum or in- 
cipient tramp is one of two things: 
either he is a person whom a suit- 
able education might have turned 
into some decent and honest way of 
earning a living, or he is a person 
upon whom, owing to congenital 
defect, all educational effort would 
have been thrown away. In either 
case social duty seems plain. If 
education would have done the 
work, society — seeing that it has 
taken the business of public educa- 
tion in hand — should have supplied 
the education required for the pur- 
pose, even though the amount of 
money available for waging war in 
the Philippines had been slightly re- 
duced. If the case is one in which 
no educational effort is of avail, 
then, as the "old Roman formula ran, 
" Let the magistrates see that the 
republic takes no harm." Before, 
therefore, our minds can be easy 
on this hoodlum question, we must 
satisfy ourselves thoroughly that 
our modes of education are not, 
positively or negatively, adapted to 
making the hoodlum variety of char- 
acter. The hoodlum, it is safe to 
say, is an individual in whom no 
intellectual interest has ever been 
awakened, in whom no special ca- 
pacity has ever been created. Ilis 

moral nature has never been taught 
to respond to any high or even re- 
spectable principle of conduct. If 
there is any glory in earth or heav- 
en, any beauty or harmony in the 
operations of natural law, any po- 
etry or pathos or dignity in human 
life, anything to stir the soul in the 
records of human achievement, to all 
such things he is wholly insensible. 
Ought this to be so in the case of any 
human being, not absolutely abnor- 
mal, whom the state has undertaken 
to educate? If, as a community, 
we put our hands to the educational 
plow, and so far not only relieve 
parents of a large portion of their 
sense of responsibility, but actually 
suppress the voluntary agencies that 
would otherwise undertake educa- 
tional work, surely we should see to 
it that our education educates. Di- 
rect moral instruction in the schools 
is not likely to be of any great 
avail unless, by other and indirect 
means, the mind is prepared to re- 
ceive it. What is needed is to 
awaken a sense of capacity and 
power, to give to each individual 
some trained faculty and some di- 
rect and, as far as it goes, scientific 
cognizance of things. Does any one 
suppose that a youth who had gone 
through a judicious course of man- 
ual training, or one who had be- 
come interested in any such subject 
as botany, chemistry, or agriculture, 
or who even had an intelligent in- 
sight into the elementary laws of 
mechanics, could develop into a 
hoodlum ? On the other hand, there 
is no difficulty in imagining that 
such a development might take 
place in a youth who had simply 
been plied with spelling-book, gram- 
mar, and arithmetic. Even what 
seem the most interesting reading 
lessons fall dead upon minds that 
have no hold upon the reality of 
things, and no sense of the distinc- 
tions which the most elementary 
study of Nature forces on the at- 



But, as we have admitted, there 
may be cases where the nature of 
the individual is such as to repel 
all effort for its improvement. Here 
the law must step in, and secure 
the community against the dangers 
to which the existence of such in- 
dividuals exposes it. There is a 
certain element in the population 
which wishes to live, and is deter- 
mined to live, on a level altogether 
below anything that can be called 
civilization. Those who compose it 
are nomadic and predatory in their 
habits, and occasionally give way to 
acts of fearful criminality. It is 
foolish not to recognize the fact, 
and take the measures that may be 
necessary for the isolation of this 
element. To devise and execute 
such measures is a burden a thou- 
sand times better worth taking up 
than the burden of imposing our 
yoke upon the Philippine Islands 
and crushing out a movement to- 
ward liberty quite as respectable, to 
all outward appearance, as that to 
which we have reared monuments at 
Bunker Hill and elsewhere. The 
fact is, the work before us at home 
is immense; and it is work which 
we might attack, not only without 
qualms of conscience, but with the 
conviction that every unit of labor 
devoted to it was being directed to- 
ward the highest interests not of 
the present generation only, but of 
generations yet unborn. The "white 
man," we trust, will some day see 
it; but meanwhile valuable time is 
being lost, and the national con- 
science is being lowered by the as- 
sumption of burdens that are not 
ours, whatever Mr. Kipling may have 
said or sung, or whatever Governor 
Roosevelt may assert on his word as 
a soldier. 


That division of labor is as ne- 
cessary in the pursuit of science as 
in the world of industiy no one 

would think of disputing; but that, 
like division of labor elsewhere, it 
has its drawbacks and dangers is 
equally obvious. When the latter 
truth is insisted on by those who are 
not recognized as experts, the ex- 
perts are apt to be somewhat con- 
temptuous in resenting such inter- 
ference, as they consider it. An ex- 
pert himself has, however, taken up 
the parable, and his words merit at- 
tention. We refer to an address 
delivered by Prof. J. Arthur Thomp- 
son, at the University of Aberdeen, 
upon entering on his duties as Re- 
gius Professor of Natural History, 
a post to which he was lately ap- 
pointed. " We need to be remind- 
ed," he said, " amid the undoubted 
and surely legitimate fascinations 
of dissection and osteology, of sec- 
tion cutting and histology, of physi- 
ological chemistry and physiological 
physics, of embryology and fossil 
hunting, and the like, that the chief 
end of our study is a better under- 
standing of living creatures in their 
natural surroundings." He could 
see no reason, he went on to say, for 
adding aimlessly to the overwhelm- 
ing mass of detail already accumu- 
lated in these and other fields of re- 
search. The aim of our efforts should 
rather be to grasp the chief laws of 
growth and structure, and to rise to 
a true conception of the meaning of 

The tendency to over-speciali- 
zation is manifest everywhere; it 
may be traced in physics and chem- 
istry, in mathematics, in archaeol- 
ogy, and in philology, as well as in 
biology. We can not help thinking 
that there is a certain narcotic in- 
fluence arising from the steady ac- 
cumulation of minute facts, so that 
what was in the first place, and in 
its early stages, an invigorating pur- 
suit becomes not only an absorbing, 
but more or less a benumbing pas- 
sion. We are accustomed to pro- 
fess great admiration for Brown- 
ing's Grammarian, who — 



" Gave us the doctrine of the enclitic De 
Dead from the waist down," 

but really we don't feel quite sure 
that the cause for which the old gen- 
tleman struggled was quite worthy 
of such desperate heroism. The 
world could have got along fairly 
well for a while with an imperfect 
knowledge of the subtle ways of the 
" enclitic De," and indeed a large 
portion of the world has neither 
concerned itself with the subject 
nor felt the worse for not having 
done so. 

What we fear is that some people 
are " dead from the waist down," or 
even from higher up, without being 
aware of it, and all on account of a 

furiotis passion for " enclitic de's " 
or their equivalent in other lines of 
study. Gentlemen, it is not worth 
while ! You can not all hope to be 
buried on mountain tops like the 
grammarian, for there are not peaks 
enough for all of you, and any way 
what good would it do you? There 
is need of specialization, of course; 
we began by saying that the drift 
of our remarks is simply this, that 
he who would go into minute spe- 
cializing should be careful to lay in 
at the outset a good stock of com- 
mon sense, a liberal dose (if he can 
get it) of humor, and quantum suff. 
of humanity. Thus provided he can 
go ahead. 

Scientific %iXtxnXnxz. 


The comparison between the United States in 1790 and Australia 
in 1891, with which Mr. A. F. Weher opens his essay on The Growth of 
Cities in the Nineteenth Century* well illustrates how the tendency of 
population toward agglomeration in cities is one of the most striking 
social phenomena of the present age. Both countries were in nearly a 
corresponding state of development at the time of bringing them into 
the comparison. The population of the United States in 1790 was 
3,929,214; that of Australia in 1891 was 3,809,895; while 3.14 per cent 
of the people of the United States were then living in cities of ten thou- 
sand or more inhabitants, 33.20 per cent of the Australians are now 
living in such cities. Similar conditions or the tendency toward them 
are evident in nearly every country of the world. What are the forces 
that have produced the shifting of population thus indicated; what the 
economic, moral, political, and social consequences of it; and what is 
to be the attitude of the publicist, the statesman, and the teacher toward 
the movement, are questions which Mr. Weber undertakes to discuss. 
The subject is a very complicated and intricate one, with no end of puz- 
zles in it for the careless student, and requiring to be viewed in innu- 
merable shifting lights, showing the case in changing aspects; for in the 
discussion lessons are drawn by the author from every country in the 
family of nations. Natural causes — variations in climate, soil, earth 
formation, political institutions, etc. — partly explain the distribution of 
population, but only partly. It sometimes contradicts what would be 
deduced from them. Increase and improvement in facilities for com- 
munication help the expansion of commercial and industrial centers, 

* The Growth of Cities in the Ninettenth Century. A Study in Statistics. By Adna Ferrin 
Weber. (Cf.lnmbia Univernity Studies in History, Economics, and Public L:iw.) New York: Pub- 
llflhed for Columbia University by the Macmillan Company. Pp. 495. Price, $3.50. 


but also contribute to the scattering of population over wider areas. 
The most potent factors in attracting people to the cities were, in former 
times, the commercial facilities they afforded, with opportunities to ob- 
tain employment in trade, and are now the opportunities for employment 
in trade and in manufacturing industries. The cities, however, do not 
grow merely by accretions from the outside, but they also enjoy a new 
element of natural growth within themselves in the greater certainty 
of living and longer duration of life brought about by improved manage- 
ment and ease of living in them, especially by improved sanitation, and 
it is only in the nineteenth century that any considerable number of 
cities have had a regular surplus of births over deaths. Migration city- 
ward is not an economic phenomenon peculiar to the nineteenth cen- 
tury, but is shown by the study of the social statistics and the bills of 
mortality of the past to have been always a factor important enough 
to be a subject of special remark. It is, however, a very lively one now, 
and " in the immediate future we may expect to see a continuation of 
the centralizing movement ; while many manufacturers are locating their 
factories in the small cities and towns, there are other industries that 
prosper most in the great cities. Commerce, moreover, emphatically 
favors the great centers rather than the small or intermediate centers." 
In examining the structure of city populations, a preponderance of the 
female sex appears, and is explained by the accentuated liability of men 
over women in cities to death from dangers of occupation, vice, crime, 
and excesses of all kinds. There are also present in the urban popula- 
tion a relatively larger number of persons in the active period of life, 
whence an easier and more animated career, more energy and enterijrise, 
more radicalism and less conservatism, and more vice, crime, and im- 
pulsiveness generally may be expected. Of foreign immigrants, the least 
desirable class are most prone to remain in the great cities; and with 
the decline of railway building and the complete occupation of the public 
lands the author expects that immigrants in the future will disperse 
less readily than in the past, but in the never-tiring energy of Ameri- 
can enterprise this may not prove to be the case. As to occupation, 
the growth of cities is found to favor the development of a body of 
artisans and factory workmen, as against the undertaker and employer, 
and " that the class of day laborers is relatively small in the cities is 
reason for rejoicing." It is found " emphatically true that the growth 
of cities not only increases a nation's economic power and energy, but 
quickens the national pulse. ... A progressive and dynamic civiliza- 
tion implies the good and bad alike. The cities, as the foci of progress, 
inevitably contain both." The development of suburban life, stimulated 
by the railroad and the trolley, and the transference of manufacturing 
industries to the suburbs, are regarded as factors of great promise for 
the amelioration of the recognized evils of city life and for the solu- 
tion of some of the difficulties it offers and the promotion of its best 

Dr. James K. Crooh, author of The Mineral Waters of the United 
States and their Therapeutic Uses* accepts it as proved by centuries 
of experience that in certain disorders the intelligent use of mineral 

* Mineral Waters of the United States and tlieir Tlierapeutic Uses, with an Account of the Various 
Mineral Spring Localities, their Advantages as Health Resorts, Means of Access, etc.; to which is 
aided an Appendix on Potable Waters. By James' K. Crook. New York and Philadelphia: Lea 
Brothers & Co. Pp. 588. Price, $3.50. - 



waters is a more potent curative agency than drugs. He believes that 
Americans have within their own borders the close counterparts of the 
best foreign springs, and that in charms of scenery and surroundings, 
salubrity of climate and facilities for comfort, many of our spas will 
compare as resorts with the most highly developed ones of Europe. The 
purpose of the present volume is to set forth the qualities and attrac- 
tions of American springs, of which we have a large number and va- 
riety, and the author has aimed to present the most complete and ad- 
vanced work on the subject yet prepared. To make it so, he has care- 
fully examined all the available literature on the subject, has addressed 
letters of inquiry to propi-ietors and other persons cognizant of spring 
resorts and commercial springs, and has made personal visits. While 
a considerable number of the 2,822 springs enumerated by Dr. A. C. Peale 
in his report to the United States Geological Survey have dropped out 
tlirough non-use or non-development, more than two hundred mineral- 
spring localities are here described for the first time in a book of this 
kind. Every known variety of mineral water is represented. The sub- 
ject is introduced by chapters on what might be called the science of 
mineral waters and their therapeutic uses, including the definition, the 
origin of mineral waters, and the sources whence they are mineralized; 
the classification, the discussion of their value, and mode of action; 
their solid and gaseous components; their therapeutics or applications 
to different disorders; and baths and douches and their medicinal uses. 
The springs are then described severally by States. The treatise on 
potable waters in the appendix is brief, but contains much. 


In Every-Bay Butterflies * Mr. Seud- 
der relates the story of the very com- 
monest butterflies — " those which every 
rambler at all observant sees about him 
at one time or another, inciting his curi- 
osity or pleasing his eye." The sequence 
of the stories is mainly the order of ap- 
pearance of the different subjects treated 
— which the author compares to the 
flowers in that each kind has its own 
season for appearing in perfect bloom, 
both together variegating the landscape 
in the open season of the year. This 
order of description is modified occasion- 
ally by the substituti<m of a later ap- 
pearance for the first, when the butterfly 
is double or triple brooded. An illustra- 
tions are furnished of each butterfly dis- 
cussed, it is not necessary that the de- 
scriptions should be long and minute, 
hence they are given in brief and general 
terms. But it must be remembered that 
the describer is a thorough master of his 
subject, and also a master in writing the 

• Every-Day Bntterfliee. A Group of Biogra- 
phies. By Samuel ITubbard Sciidder. Bopton and 
New York: Houghton, Mlfhin & Co. Pp. S8C. 
Price, $2. 

English language, so that nothing will 
be found lacking in his descriptions. 
They are literature as well as butterfly 
history. Of the illustrations, all of which 
are good, a considerable number are in 

Dr. M. E. Gello's VAudition et ses 
Oryancs * (The Hearing and its Organs) 
is a full, not over-elaborate treatise on 
the subject, in which prominence is given 
to the pliysiological side. The first part 
treats of the excitant of the sense of 
hearing — sonorous vibrations — including 
the vibrations themselves, the length of 
the vibratory phenomena, the intensity 
of sound, range of audition, tone, and 
timbre of sounds. The .second chapter 
relates to the organs of hearing, both 
the peripheric organs and the acoustic 
centers, the anatomy of which is de- 
scribed in detail, with excellent and am- 
ple illustrations. The third chapter is 
devoted to the sensation of hearing 
under its various aspects — the time 

* L'Andition et ses Orcanes. By Dr. M. E. 
Gell6. PariB: F61i.^ Alcan (Bihliotheque Scien- 
tiflque). Pp. 32C. Price, six francs. 



required for perception, " hearing in 
school," the iufluenee of habit and atten- 
tion, orientation of the sound, bilateral 
sensations, effects on the nervous cen- 
ters, etc., hearing of musical sounds, os- 
cillations and aberrations of hearing, 
auditive memory, obsessions, hallucina- 
tions of the ear, and colored audition. 

Prof. Andrew C. McLavfjhlin's His- 
tory of the American Nation * has many- 
features to recommend it. It aims to 
trace the main outlines of national de- 
velopment, and to show how the Ameri- 
can people came to be what they are. 
These outlines involve the struggle of 
European powers for supremacy in the 
New World, the victory of England, the 
growth of the English colonies and 
their steady progress in strength and 
self-reliance till they achieved their in- 
dependence, the development of the 
American idea of government, its ex- 
tension across the continent and its in- 
fluence abroad — all achieved in the 
midst of stirring events, social, political, 
and moral, at the cost sometimes of 
wars, and accompanied by marvelous 
growth in material prosperity and politi- 
cal power. All this the author sets 
forth, trying to preserve the balance of 
the factors, in a pleasing, easy style. 
Especial attention is paid to political 
facts, to the rise of parties, to the de- 
velopment of governmental machinery, 
and to questions of government and ad- 
ministration. In industrial history those 
events have been selected for mention 
which seem to have had the most 
marked effect on the progress and make- 
up of the nation. It is to be desired 
that more attention had been given to 
social aspects and changes in which the 
development has not been less marked 
and stirring than in the other depart- 
ments of our history. Indeed, the field 
for research and exposition here is ex- 
tremely wide and almost infinitely va- 
ried, and it has hardly yet begun to 
be worked, and with any fullness only 
for special regions. "When he comes to 
recent events, Professor McLaughlin 
naturally speaks with caution and in 
rather general terms. It seems to us, 
however, that in the matter of the war 
with Spain, without violating any of the 

* A History of the American Nation. By An- 
drew C. McLaughlin. Ne\Y York: D. Appleton 
and Company. Pp. E87. Price, §1.40. 

VOL. LYI. 11 

proprieties, he might have given more 
emphasis to the anxious efforts of that 
country to comply with the demands of 
the administration for the institution of 
reforms in Cuba; and, in the interest of 
historical truth, he ought not to have 
left unmentioned the very important 
fact that the Spanish Government of- 
fered to refer the questions growing out 
of the blowing up of the Maine to arbi- 
tration and abide by the result, and 
our Government made no answer to the 

Mr. W. W. CampbeU's Elements of 
Practical Astronomy * is an evolution. 
It grew out of the lessons of his experi- 
ence in teaching rather large classes in 
astronomy in the University of Michi- 
gan, by which he was led to the conclu- 
sion that the extensive treatises on the 
subject could not be used satisfactorily 
except in special cases. Brief lecture 
notes were employed in preference. These 
were written out and printed for use in 
the author's classes. The first edition of 
the book made from them was used in 
several colleges and universities having 
astronomical departments of high char- 
acter. The work now appears, slightly 
enlarged, in a second edition. In the 
present greatly extended field of prac- 
tical astronomy numerous special prob- 
lems arise, which require prolonged ef- 
forts on the part of professional astrono- 
mers. While for the discussion of the 
methods employed in solving such prob- 
lems the reader is referred to special 
treatises and journals, these methods are 
all developed from the elements of as- 
tronomy and the related sciences, of 
which it is intended that this book shall 
contain the elements of practical astron- 
omy, with numerous references to the 
problems first requiring solution. The 
author believes that the methods of ob- 
serving employed are illustrations of the 
best modern practice. 

In The Characters of Crystals f Prof. 
Alfred J. Moses has attempted to de- 
scribe, simply and concisely, the meth- 

* The Elements of Practical Astronomy. By 
W. W. Campbell. Second edition, revised and en- 
larged. New York : The Macmillan Company. 
Pp. 264. Price, $2. 

+ The Characters of Crystals. An Introduc- 
tion to Physical Crystallography. By Alfred J. 
Moses. New York: D. Van Nostrand Company. 
Pp 211. Price, $2. 



oJs and apparatus used in studying the 
l)hysical characters of crystals, and to 
record and explain the observed phenom- 
ena without complex mathematical dis- 
cussions. The first part of the book re- 
lates to the geometrical characteristics 
of crystals, or the relations and deter- 
mination of their forms, including the 
spherical projection, the thirty- two 
classes of forms, the measurement of 
crystal angles, and crystal projection or 
drawing. The optical characters and 
their determination are the subject of 
the second part. In the third part the 
thermal, magnetic, and electrical char- 
acters and the characters dependent 
upon electricity (elastic and permanent 
deformations) are treated of. A sug- 
gested outline of a course in physical 
crystallography is added, which includes 
preliminary experiments with the sys- 
tematic examination of the crystals of 
any substance, and corresponds with the 
graduate course in physical crystallog- 
raphy given in Columbia University. 
'J'he book is intended to be useful to oi'- 
ganic chemists, geologists, mineralogists, 
and others interested in the study of 
crystals. The treatment is necessarily 

A book describing the Practical MetJi- 
ods of identifying Minerals in Rock Sec- 
tions irith the Microscope * has been pre- 
pared by Mr. L. McI. Luquer to ease the 
path of the student inexperienced in op- 
tical mineralogy by putting before him 
only those facts which are absolutely 
necessary for the proper recognition and 
identification of the minerals in thin sec- 
tions. The microscopic and optical char- 
acters of the minerals are recorded in the 
order in which they would be observed 
with a petrographical microscope; when 
the sections are opaque, attention is 
called to the fact, and the characters are 
recorded as seen with incident light. 
The order of Roscnbuseh, which is based 
on the symmetry of the crystalline form, 
is followed, with a few exceptions made 
for convenience. In an introductory 
chapter a practical elementary knowl- 
edge of optics as applied to optical min- 

* Minerals In Rock Sections ; tho Practical 
Method of identifying Minerals in Rock Sections 
with the Microscope. Especially arranged for 
Students in Scientific Schools. By Lea Mcllvaine 
Luqner. New York: D. Van Nostrand Company. 
Pp. 117. 

eralogy is attempted to be given, with- 
out going into an elaborate discussion of 
the subject. The petrographical micro- 
scope is described in detail. The appli- 
cation of it to the investigation of min- 
eral characteristics is set forth in gen- 
eral and as to particular minerals. The 
preparation of sections and practical op- 
erations are described, and an optical 
scheme is appended, with the minerals 
grouped according to their common op- 
tical characters. 

Mr. Herbert C. Whitaker's Elements 
of Trigonometry * is and of very 
convenient size for use. The introduc- 
tion and the first five of the seven chap- 
ters have been prepared for the use of 
beginners. The other two chapters con- 
cern the properties of triangles and 
spherical triangles; an appendix pre- 
sents the theory of logarithms; and a 
second appendix, treating of goniometry, 
complex quantities, and complex func- 
tions, has been added for students in- 
tending to take up work in higher de- 
partments of mathematics. For assist- 
ing a clearer understanding of the sev- 
eral processes, the author has sought to 
associate closely with every equation 
a definite meaning with reference to a 
diagram. Other characteristics of the 
book are the practical applications to 
mechanics, surveying, and other every- 
day problems ; its many references to as- 
tronomical problems, and the constant 
use of geometry as a starting point and 

A model in suggestions for elemen- 
tary teaching is olTered in Califoi'nia 
I'lunts in their Ho)nes,'<f by Alice Mcrritt 
Dfiridson, formerly of the State Normal 
School, California. The book consists of 
two parts, a botanical reader for children 
and a supplement for the of teachers, 
both divisions being also published in 
separate volumes. It is well illustrated, 
provided with an index and an outline 
of lessons adapted to difl'erent grades. 
The treatment of each theme is, 
and the grouping novel, as is indicated 
by the chapter headings: Some Plants 
that lead Easy Lives, Plants that know 

• Elements of Trigonometry, with Tables. By 
Herbert C. Whitaker. Philadelphia : Eldredge & 
Brother. Pp. 200. 

+ California Plants in their Ilomes. By Alice 
Merritt DaTidson. Los Angeles, Cal. : B. R. Bauni- 
gardt & Co. Pp. 215-133. 



how to meet Hard Times, Plants that 
do not make their own Living, Plants 
with Mechanical Genius. Although spe- 
cially designed for the study of the flora 
of southern California, embodying the 
results of ten years' observation by the 
author, it may be recommended to sci- 
ence teachers in any locality as an ex- 
cellent guide. The pupil in this vicinity 
will have to forego personal inspection 
of the shooting-star and mariposa lily, 
while he finds the century plant, yuccas, 
and cacti domiciled in the greenhouse. 
In addition to these, however, attention 
is directed to a sufficient number of 
familiar flowers, trees, ferns, and fungi 
for profitable study, and the young nov- 
ice in botany can scarcely make a bet- 
ter beginning than in company with this 
skillful instructor. 

Prof. John M. Coulter's Plant Rela- 
tions * is one of two parts of a system 
of teaching botany proposed by the au- 
thor. Each of the two books is to rep- 
resent the work of half a year, but each 
is to be independent of the other, and 
they may be used in either order. The 
two books relate respectively, as a 
whole, to ecology, or the life relations 
of surroundings of plants, and to their 
morphology. The present volume con- 
cerns the ecology. While it may be to 
the disadvantage of presenting ecology 
first, that it conveys no knowledge of 
plant structures and plant groups, this 
disadvantage is compensated for, in the 
author's view, by the facts that the 
study of the most evident life relations 
gives a proper conception of the place 
of plants in Nature; that it offers a 
view of the plant kingdom of the most 
permanent value to those who can give 
but a half year to botany ; and that it de- 
mands little or no use of the compound 
microscope, an instrument ill adapted to 
first contacts with Nature. The book 
is intended to present a connected, read- 
able account of some of the fundamental 
facts of botany, and also to serve as 
a supplement to the three far more im- 
portant factors of the teacher, who must 
amplify and suggest at every point; the 
laboratory, which must bring the pupil 
face to face with plants and their struc- 

* Plant Relations. A First Book of Botany. 
By John M. Coulter. New York: D. Appleton and 
Company. (Twentieth Century Text Books.) Pp. 
2&4. Price, gl.lO. 

ture; and field work, which must relate 
the facts observed in the laboratory to 
their actual place in Nature, and must 
bring new facts to notice which can 
be ob.served nowhere else. Taking the 
results obtained from these three fac- 
tors, the book seeks to organize them, 
and to suggest explanations, through a 
clear, untechnical, compact text and ap- 
propriate and excellent illustrations. 

The title of The Wilderness of 
Worlds * was suggested to the author 
by the contemplation of a wilderness of 
trees, in which those near him are very 
large, while in the distance they seem 
successively smaller, and gradually fade 
away till the limit of vision is reached. 
So of the wilderness of worlds in space, 
with its innumerable stars of gradu- 
ally diminishing degrees of visibility — 
worlds " of all ages like the trees, and 
the great deep of space is covered with 
their dust, and pulsating with the po- 
tency of new births." The body of the 
book is a review of the history of the uni- 
verse and all that is of it, in the light of 
the theory of evolution, beginning with 
the entities of space, time, matter, force, 
and motion, and the processes of develop- 
ment from the nebulae as they are indi- 
cated by the most recent and best veri- 
fied researches, and terminating with the 
ultimate extinction of life and the end 
of the planet. In the chapter entitled A 
Vision of Peace the author confronts re- 
ligion and science. He regards the whole 
subject from tlie freethinker's point of 
view, with a denial of all agency of the 

In a volume entitled The Living Or- 
ganisni'^ 'Mr. Alfred Earl has endeavored 
to make a philosophical introduction to 
the study of biology. The closing para- 
graph of his preface is of interest as 
showing his views regarding vitalism: 
" The object of the book will be attained 
if it succeeds, although it may be chiefly 
by negative criticism, in directing atten- 
tion to the important truth that, though 
chemical and physical changes enter 

* The Wilderness of Worlds. A Popular 
Sketch of the Evolution of Matter from Nebula to 
Man and Return. The Life-Orbit of a Star. By 
George W. Morehouse. New York : Peter Eck- 
ler. Pp. 346. Price, gl. 

't The Living Organism. By Alfred Earl, M. A. 
New York : The Macmillan Company. Pp. 271. 
Pi ice, $1.75. 



largely into the composition of vital ac- 
tivity, there is much in the living organ- 
ism that is outside the range of these 
operations." The first three chapters dis- 
cuss general conceptions, and are chiefly 
psychologj'. A discussion of the struc- 
tures accessory to alimentation in man 
and the higher animals occupies Chapters 
IV and V. The Object of Classification, 
Certain General Statements concerning 
Organisms, A Description of the Organ- 
ism as related to its Surroundings, The 
Material JJasis of Life, The Organism as 
a Chemical Aggregate and as a Center 
for the Transformation of Energy, Cer- 
tain Aspects of Form and Development, 
The Meaning of Sensation, and, finally. 
Some of the Problems presented by the 
Organism, are the remaining chapter 
headings. The volume contains many 
interesting suggestions, and might per- 
haps most appropriately be described as 
a Theoretical Biology. 

" Stars and Telescopes" * Professor 
Todd says, " is intended to meet an 
American demand for a plain, unrhetor- 
ical statement of the astronomy of to- 
day." We might state the purpose to be 
to bring astronomy and all that pertains 
to it up to date. It is hard to do this, 
for the author has been obliged to put 
what was then the latest discovery, 
made while the book was going through 
the press, in a footnote at the end of the 
preface. The information embodied in 
the volume is comprehensive, and is con- 
veyed in a very intelligible style. The 
treatise begins with a running commen- 
tary or histoiical outline of astronomical 
discovery, with a rigid exclusion of all 
detail. The account of the earth and 
moon is followed by chapters on the Cal- 
endar and the Astronomical Relations of 
Light. The other members of the solar 
system are described and their relations 
reviewed, and then the comets and the 
stars. Closely associated with these sub- 
jects are the men who have contributed 
to knowledge respecting them, and con- 
sequently the names of the great discov- 
erers and others who have helped in the 
advancement of astronomy are intro- 
duced in immediate connection with 
their work, in brief sketches and often 
with their portraits. Much importance 

* stirs and Teloscopes A riandhonk of Popu- 
lar Astronom v. Boston: Little, Brown & Co. Pp. 
419. Price, §2. 

is attributed by Professor Todd to the 
instruments with which astronomical 
discovery is carried on, and the book 
may be said to culminate in an account 
of the famous instruments, their con- 
struction, mounting, and use. The de- 
visers of these instruments are entitled 
to more credit than the unthinking are 
always inclined to give them, for the 
value of an observation depends on the 
accuracy of the instrument as well as 
on the skill of the observer, and the skill 
which makes the instrument accurate is 
not to be underrated. So the makers 
of the instruments are given their place. 
Then the recent and improved processes 
have to be considered, and, altogether. 
Professor Todd has found material for a 
full and somewhat novel book, and has 
used it to good advantage. 

Some Ohscrcations on the Fundamen- 
tal Principles of Natnre is the title of 
an essay by Henry Witt, which, though 
very brief, takes the world of matter, 
mind, and society within its scope. One 
of the features of the treatment is that 
instead of the present theory of an order 
of things resulting from the condensa- 
tion of more rarefied matter, one of the 
organization of converging waves of in- 
tinitesimal atoms lilling all space is sub- 
stituted. With this point prominently 
in view, the various factors and prop- 
erties of the material universe — biology, 
psychology, sociology, ethics, and the fu- 
ture — are treated of. 

Among the later monographs pub- 
lished by the Field Columbian Museum, 
Chicago, is a paper in the Geological Se- 
ries (No. 3) on The Ores of Colomhia, 
from Mines in Operation in 1S92, by 
H. W. Nichols. It describes the collec- 
tion prepared for the Columbian Exposi- 
tion by F. Pereira Gamba and after- 
ward given to the museum — a collection 
which merits attention for the light it 
throws upon the nature and mode of oc- 
currence of the ores of one of the most 
important gold-producing countries of 
the world, and also because it approaches 
more nearly than is usual the ideal of 
what a collection in economic geology 
should be. Other publications in the 
museum's Geological Scries are The My- 
huiavlidir, an E.rtinet Family of Seiiiro- 
morph Rodents (No. 4), by E. S. Riggs, 
describing some aquirrcl-like animals 
from the Deep lliver beds, near White 



Sulphiu' Springs, Montana; A Fossil 
Egg from South Dakota (No. 5), by 0. 

C. Fnrringto7i, relative to the egg of an 
anatine bird from the early Miocene; 
and Contributions to the Paleontology of 
the Upper Cretaceous Series (No, 6), by 
IF. A". Logan, in which seven species of 
Scaphites, Ostrea, Gasteropoda, and cor- 
als are described. In the Zoological Se- 
ries, Prcliniinary Descriptions of New 
Rodents from the Olympic Mountains (of 
Washington) (No. 11), by D. G. Elliot, 
relates to six species; Notes on a Col- 
lection of Cold-blooded Vertebrates from 
the Olympic Mountains (No. 12), by S. 
E. Meek, to six trout and three other 
fish, four amphibia, and three reptiles; 
and a Catalogue of Mammals from the 
Olympic Mountains, Washington, with 
descriptions of new species (No, 13), by 

D. G. Elliot, includes a number of spe- 
cies of rodents, lynx, bear, and deer. 

Some Notes on Chemical Jurispru- 
dence is the title given by Harwood 
Huntington (260 West Broadway, New 
York; 25 cents) to a brief digest of pat- 
ent-law cases involving chemistry. The 
notes are designed to be of use to chem- 
ists intending to take out patents by 
presenting some of the difficulties at- 
tendant upon drawing up a patent strong 
enough to stand a lawsuit, and by ex- 
plaining some points of law bearing on 
the subject. In most, if not all, cases 
where the chemist has devised a new 
method or application it is best, the au- 
thor holds, to take out a patent for self- 
protection, else the inventor may find 
his device stplen from him and patented 
against him, 

A cave or fissure in the Cambrian 
limestone of Port Kennedy, Montgomery 
County, Pa., exposed by quarrymen the 
year before, was brought to the knowl- 
edge of geologists by Mr, Charles M,. 
Wheatley in 1871, when the fossils ob- 
tained from it were determined by Prof. 

E. D. Cope as of thirty-four species. At- 
tention was again called to the paleon- 
tological interest of the locality by Pres- 
ident Dixon, of the Academy of Natural 
Sciences of Philadelphia, in 1894. The 
fissure was examined again by Dr. Dixon 
and others, and was more thoroughly 
explored by Mr. Henry C. Mercer. Mr. 
Mercer published a preliminary account 
of the work, which was followed by the 
successive studies of the material by 

Professor Cope preliminary to a com- 
plete and illustrated report to be made 
after a full investigation of all accessible 
material. Professor Cope did not live to 
publish this full report, which was his 
last work, prepared during the sufl'ering 
of his final illness. It is now published, 
just as the author left it, as Yertebrate 
Remains from the Port Kennedy Deposit, 
from the Journal of the Academy of 
Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, Four 
plates of illustrations, photographed 
from the remains, accompany the text. 

The machinery of Mr, Fred A. Lu- 
cas's story of The Hermit Naturalist re- 
minds us of that of the old classical 
French romances, like TOlemaque, and 
the somewhat artificial, formal diction is 
not dissimilar. An accident brings the 
author into acquaintance and eventual 
intimacy with an old Sicilian naturalist, 
who, migrating to this country, has es- 
tablished a home, away from the world's 
life, on an island in the Delaware River, 
The two find a congenial subject of con- 
versation in themes of natural history, 
and the bulk of the book is in effect a 
running discourse by the old Sicilian on 
snakes and their habits — a valuable and 
interesting lesson. The hermit has a ro- 
mance, involving the loss of his mother- 
less daughter, stolen by brigands and 
brought to America, his long search for 
her and resignation of hope, and her ul- 
timate discovery and restoration to him. 
The book is of easy reading, both as to 
its natural history and the romance. 

We have two papers before us on the 
question of expansion. One is an ad- 
dress delivered by John Barrett, late 
United States Minister to Siam, before 
the Shanghai General Chamber of Com- 
merce, and previous to the beginning of 
the attempt to subjugate the islands, on 
The Philippine Islands and American 
Interests in the Far East. This address 
has, we believe, been since followed by 
others, and in all Mr. Barrett favors the 
acquisition of the Philippine Islands on 
the grounds, among others, of commer- 
cial interests and the capacity of the 
Filipinos for development in further civi- 
lization and self-goA'ernment ; but his 
arguments, in the present aspect of the 
Philippine question, seem to us to bear 
quite as decidedly in the opposite direc- 
tion. He gives the following picture 
of Aguinaldo and the Filipino govern- 



ment: "He (Aguinaldo) captured all 
Spanish garrisons on the island of Luzon 
outside of ilanila, so that when the 
Americans were ready to proceed against 
the city they were not delayed and trou- 
bled with a country campaign. More- 
over, he has organized a government 
which has practically been administer- 
ing the affairs of the great island since 
the American occupation of Manila, and 
which is certainly better than the for- 
mer administration; he has a properly 
formed Cabinet and Congress, the mem- 
bers of which, in appearance and man- 
ners, would compare favorably with 
Japanese statesmen. He has among his 
advisers men of ability as international 
lawyers, while his supporters include 
most of the prominent educated and 
wealthy natives, all of which prove pos- 
sibilities of self-government that we 
must consider." This pamphlet is pub- 
lished at Hong Kong. The other paper 
is an address delivered before the New 
York State Bar Association, by Charles 
A. Gardiner, on Our Right to acquire 
and hold Forcion Territory, and is pub- 
lished by G. P. Putnam's Sons in the 
Questions of the Day Series. Mr. Gar- 
diner holds and expresses the broadest 
views of the constitutional power of our 
Government to commit the acts named, 
and to exercise all the attributes inci- 

dental to the possession of acquired ter- 
ritory, but he thinks that we need a 
great deal of legal advice in the matter. 

A pamphlet, Anti-Imperialism, by 
Morrison L. 8icift, published by the 
Public Ownership Review, Los Angeles, 
Cal., covers the subject of English and 
American aggression in three chapters — 
Imperialism to bless the Conquered, Im- 
perialism for the Sake of Mankind, and 
Our Crime in the Philippines. Mr. Swift 
is very earnest in respect to some of the 
subjects touched upon in his essays, and 
some persons may object that he is more 
forcible — even to excess — than polite in 
his denunciations. To such he may per- 
haps reply that there are things which 
language does not afford words too 
strong to characterize fitly. 

Among the papers read at the Fourth 
International Catholic Scientifie Con- 
gress, held at Fribourg, Switzerland, in 
August, 1897, was one by William J. D. 
Croke on Architecture, Painting, and 
Printing at Subiaco as represented in 
the Abbey at Subiaco. The author re- 
gards the features of the three arts rep- 
resented in this place as evidence that 
the record of the activity of the founda- 
tion constitutes a real chapter in the his- 
tory of progress in general and of cul- 
ture in particular. 


Benson, E. F. Mammon & Co. New 
York: I). Applcton aud Company. Pp. 
300. .$1.50. 

Bufkley, James A. Extemporaneous 
Oratory. For Professional and Amateur 
Speakers. New York: Eaton & Mains. 
Pp. 480. .$1.50. 

Canada, Dominion of, Experimental 
Farms: Reports for 1S97. Pp. 449; Re- 
ports for 1808. I'p. 4ii9. 

Conn, H. \V. The Story of Germ Life. 
(Library of TJseful Stories.) New York: 
I>. Appleton and Company. I'p. 199. 40 

Dana, Edward S. First Appendix to 
the Sixth Edition of Dana's Miueralogy. 
New York: John Wiley & Sons. Pp. 
75. §1. 

Franklin Institute, The, Drawing 
School, also School of Eloincutary Mathe- 
matlos: Annoimccnicnts. Pp. 4 each. 

Ganone, Willinm F. The TonfhInK Rot- 
nnist. New York: The Macmiilan Com- 
pany. I'p. 270. $1.10. 

Octman, F. IT. The Elements of Blow- 
pipe Analysis. New York: The Macmiilan 
Company." I'p. 77. CO cents. 

TTallldny, IL >L An Essay on the Com- 
mon OriL'in of Lljiht, Heat, and Elec- 
tricity. ^Vashingtou, D. C. Pp. 4G. 

Hardin, Wlllett L. The Rise and De- 
velopment of the Liquefaction of Gases. 
New York: The Macmiilan Company. Pp. 
250. ?1.10. 

HilleRas, Howard C. Oom Paul's Peo- 
ple. A Narrative of the British-Boer 
Troubles in South Africa, with a History 
of the Boers, the Country, and its Insti- 
tutions. New York: I). Appleton and Com- 
pany. Pp. 308. $L50. 

Ireland, Alleyne. Tropical Coloniza- 
tion. An Introduction to the Study of the 
Subject. New York: The Macmiilan Com- 
pany. $2. 

Klnssley, J. S. Text-Book of Elemen- 
t.irv Zoolocv. New York: Henry Holt & 
Co." Pp. 439. 

Knerr, E. B. Relativity in Science. 
Sillco-B.'ulte Nodules from near Sallna. 
Concretions. (Transactions of the Kan- 
sas Academy of Science.) Pp. 24. 

Kromskop Color Photojii-aphy. Phila- 
delphia: Ives Kroraskop. I'p. 24. 

I,i(iuld-.\ir Power and Automobile Com- 
pany. Prospectus. Pp. 1(>. 

Macliiide. Tliomas A. The North Ameri- 
can Slime Molds. Beinj; a List of Species 
of Myxomycetes hlllierto described from 
Noitli America, inc-luiilu;: Central Amer- 
ica. New York: Tlie Maruiillau Company. 
Pp. 231, with 18 plates. $2.25. 



Meyer, A. R. The Distribution of the 
Negritos in the I'hillppine Islands and 
Elsewhere. Dresden (Saxony): Stengel & 
Co. Pp. 92. 

Nicholson, H. H., and Avery, Samuel. 
Laboratory Exercises with Outlines for 
the Study of Chemistry, to accompany any 
Elementary Text. New York: Henry Holt 
& Co. Pp. 134. 60 cents. 

Scharff, R. F. The History of the Eu- 
ropean Fauna. New York: Imported by 
Charles Scribner's Sons. Pp. 3.54. .$1.50. 

Schleicher, Charles, and Schull, Duren. 
Rhenish Prussia. Samples of Special Fil- 
tering Papers. New York: Eimer & 
Amend, agents. 

Sharpe, Benjamin F. An Advance in 
Measuring and Photographing Sounds. 
United States Weather Bureau. Pp. 18, 
with plates. 

Shinn, Milicent W. Notes on the De- 
velopment of a Child. Parts HI and IV. 
(University of California Studies.) Pp. 

Shoemaker, M. M. Quaint Corners of 
Ancient Empires, Southern India, Burmah, 
and Manila. New York: G. P. Putnam's 
Sons. Pp. 212. 

Smith, Orlando J. A Short View of 
Great Questions. New York: The Bran- 
dur Company, 220 Broadway. Pp. ">. 

Smith, Walter. Methods of Knowledge. 
An Essav in Epistemologv. New York: 
The Macmillan Company. Pp. 340. $1.25. 

Southern, The, Magazine. Monthly. 
Vol. I, No. 1. August, 1899. Pp. 203. 10 
cents. $1 a year. 

Suter, William N. Handbook of Optics. 
New York: The Macmillan Company. Pp. 
209. $1. 

Tarde, G. Social Laws. An Outline of 
Sociology. With a Preface by James Mark 
Baldwin. New York: The Macmillan Com- 
pany. Pp. 213. .$1.25. 

Uline, Edwin B. Higinbothamia. A 
New Genus, and other New Dioscoreaceje, 
New Amaranthaceso. (Field Columbian 
Museum, Chicago Botanical Series.) Pp. 12. 

Underwood, Lucien M. Molds, Mil- 
dews, and Mushrooms. New York: Henry 
Holt & Co. Pp. 227, with 9 plates. $1.50. 

United States Civil-Service Commis- 
sion. Fifteenth Report, July 1, 1897, to 
June 30, 1898. Pp. 736. Washington. 

^raflmcttts of Science. 

The Dover Meeting of the Brit- 
ish Association. — While the attend- 
ance on the meeting of the British As- 
sociation at Dover was not large — the 
whole number of members being 1,403, 
of whom 127 were ladies — the occasion 
was in other respects eventful and one 
of marked interest. The papers read 
were, as a rule, of excellent quality, 
and the interchange of visits with the 
French Association was a novel feature 
that might bear many I'epetitions. The 
president, Sir Michael Foster, presented, 
in his inaugural address, a picture of 
the state of science one hundred years 
ago, illustrating it by portraying the 
conditions to which a body like the as- 
sociation meeting then at Dover would 
have found itself su"bjeet, and suggest- 
ing the topics it would have discussed. 
The period referred to was, however, 
that of the beginning of the present 
progress, and, after remarking on what 
had been accomplished in the interval, 
the speaker drew a very hopeful fore- 
view for the future. Besides the intel- 
lectual triumphs of science, its strength- 
ening discipline, its relation to politics, 
and the " international brotherhood of 
science " were brought under notice in 
the address. In his address as presi- 
dent of the Physical Section, Prof. J. H. 

Poynting showed how physicists are 
tending toward a general agreement as 
to the nature of the laws in which they 
embody their discoveries, of the expla- 
nations they give, and of the hypotheses 
they make, . and, having considered what 
the form and terms of this agreement 
should be, passed to a discussion of the 
limitations of physical science. The 
subject of Dr. Horace T. Brown's Chem- 
ical Section address was The Assimila- 
tion of Carbon by the Higher Plants. 
Sir William H. White, president of the 
Section of Mechanical Science, spoke 
on Steam Navigation at High Speeds. 
President Adam Sedgwick addressed the 
Zo()logical Section on Variation and 
some Phenomena connected with Re- 
production and Sex; Sir John Murray, 
the Geographical Section on The Ocean 
Floor ; and Mr. J. N. Langley, the Physi- 
ological Section on the general relations 
of the motor nerves to the several tis- 
sues of the body, especially of those 
which run to tissues over which we 
have little or no control. The president 
of the Anthropological Section, Mr. C. 
H. Read, of the British Museum, spoke 
of the preservation and proper explora- 
tion of the prehistoric antiquities of the 
country, and offered a plan for increas- 
ing the amount of work done in an- 



tliropolopical investigation by the use 
of Government aid. A peculiar distinc- 
tion attaches to this meeting through 
its reception and entertainment of tlie 
French Association, and the subsequent 
return of the courtesy by the hitter 
body at Boulogne. About three hun- 
dred of the French Associationists, 
among whom vi'ere many ladies, came 
over, on the Saturday of the meeting, 
under the lead of their president, M. 
Brouardel, and accompanied by a num- 
ber of men of science from Belgium. 
They were met at the pier by the offi- 
cers of the British Association, and were 
escorted to the place of meeting and 
to the sectional meetings toward which 
their several tastes directed them. The 
geological address of Sir Arcliibald 
Geikie on Geological Time had been ap- 
pointed for this day out of courtesy to 
the French geologists, and in order that 
they might have an opportunity of 
hearing one of the great lights of Brit- 
ish science. Among the listeners who 
sat upon the platform were M. Gosse- 
let, president of the French Geological 
Society; M. Kemna, president of the 
Belgian Geological Society; and M. Re- 
nard, of Ghent. Public evening lec- 
tures were delivered on the Centenary 
of the Electric Current, by Prof. J. A. 
Fleming, and (in French) on Nerv'ous 
Vibration, by Prof. Charles Richet. Sir 
William Turner was appointed presi- 
dent for the Bradford meeting of the 
association (1900). The visit of the 
French Association was returned on 
September 22d, when the president, ofii- 
cers, and about three hundred members 
went to Boulogne. They were wel- 
comed by the mayor of the city, the 
prefect of the department, and a repre- 
sentative of the French Government; 
were feasted by the municipality of 
Boulogne; were entertained by the 
members of the French Association; 
and special commemorative medals were 
presented by the French Association to 
the two presidents. The British visitors 
also witnessed the inauguration of a 
tablet in memory of Dr. Duchesne, and 
of a plaque commemorative of Thomas 
Campbell, the poet, who died in Bou- 

Artificial India Rubber. — A recent 
issue of the Kew Gardens Bulletin con- 
tains an interesting article on Dr. Til- 

den's artificial production of India rub- 
ber. India rubber, or caoutchouc, is 
chemically a hydrocarbon, but its mo- 
lecular constitution is unknown. When 
decomposed by heat it is broken up into 
simpler hydrocarbons, among which is 
a substance called isoprene, a volatile 
liquid boiling at about 36° C. Its mo- 
lecular formula is Collg. Dr. Tilden ob- 
tained this same substance (isoprene) 
from oil of turpentine and other ter- 
penes by the action of moderate heat, 
and then by treating the isoprene with 
strong acids succeeded, by means of a 
very slow reaction, in converting a 
small portion of it into a tough elastic 
solid, which seems to be identical in 
properties with true India rubber. This 
artificial rubber, like the natural, seems 
to consist of two substances, one of 
which is more soluble in benzene and 
carbon bisulphide than the other. It 
unites with sulphur in the same way as 
ordinary rubber, forming a tough, elastic 
compound. In a recent letter Professor 
Tilden says: "As you may imagine, I 
have tried everj'thing I can think of as 
likely to promote this change, but with- 
out success. The polymerization pro- 
ceeds very slowly, occupying, according 
to my experience, several years, and all 
attempts to hurry it result in the pro- 
duction not of rubber, but of ' colo- 
phene,' a thick, sticky oil quite useless 
for all purposes to which rubber is ap- 

Dangers of High Altitudes for 
Elderly People. — " The public, and 
sometimes the inexperienced physician — 
inexperienced not in general therapeu- 
tics but in the physiological effects of 
altitude on a weak heart," says Dr. 
Findlater Zangger in the Lancet, " make 
light of a danger they can not under- 
stand. But if an altitude of from four 
thousand to five thousand feet above the 
sea level puts a certain amount of strain 
on a normal heart and by a rise of the 
blood-pressure indirectly also on the 
small peripheral arteries, must not this 
action be multiplied in the case of a 
heart suffering from even an early stage 
of myocarditis or in the case of arteries 
with thickened or even calcified walls? 
It is especially the rapidity of the 
change from one altitude to another, 
with differences of from throe thousand 
to four thousand feet, which must be 



considered. There is a call made on the 
contractibility of the small arteries on 
the one hand, and on the amount of 
muscular force of the heart on the 
other hand, and if the structures in 
question can not respond to this call, 
rupture of an artery or dilatation of the 
heart may ensue. In the case of a nor- 
mal condition of the circulatory organs 
little harm is done beyond some tran- 
sient discomfort, such as dizziness, buzz- 
ing in the ears, palpitation, general ma- 
laise, and this often only in the case of 
people totally unaccustomed to high al- 
titudes. For such it is desirable to take 
the high altitude by degrees in two or 
three stages, say first stage 1,500 feet, 
second stage from 2,500 to 3,000 feet, 
and third stage from 4,000 to 6,000 feet, 
with a stay of one or two days at the 
intermediate places. The stay at the 
health resort will be shortened, it is 
true, but the patient will derive more 
benefit. On the return journey one short 
stay at one intermediate place will suf- 
fice. Even a fairly strong heart will not 
stand an overstrain in the first days 
spent at a high altitude. A Dutch lady, 
about forty jears of age, who had spent 
a lifetime in the lowlands, came directly 
up to Adelboden (altitude, 4,600 feet). 
After two days she went on an excur- 
sion with a party up to an Alp 7,000 
feet high, making the ascent quite slow- 
ly in four hours. Sudden heart syncope 
ensued, which lasted the best part of an 
hour, though I chanced to be near and 
could give assistance, which was urgent- 
ly needed. The patient recovered, but 
derived no benefit from a fortnight's 
stay, and had to return to the low 
ground the worse for her trip and her 
inconsiderate enterprise. Rapid ascents 
to a high altitude are very injurious to 
patients with arterio-sclerosis, and the 
mountain railways up to seven thousand 
and ten thousand feet are positively dan- 
gerous to an unsuspecting public, for 
many persons between the ages of fifty- 
five and seventy years consider them- 
selves to be hale and healthy, and are 
quite unconscious of ha\ing advanced 
arterio-sclerosis and perchance contract- 
ed kidney. An American gentleman, 
aged fifty-eight years, was under my 
care for slight symptoms of angina pec- 
toris, pointing to sclerosis of the coi'O- 
nary arteries. A two-months' course of 
treatment at Zurich with massage, baths, 

and proper exercise and diet did away 
with all the symptoms. I saw him by 
chance some months later. ' My son is 
going to St. Moritz (six thousand feet) 
for the summer,' said he ; ' may I go 
with him?' 'Most certainly not,' was 
my answer. The patient then consulted 
a professor, who allowed him to go. Cir- 
cumstances, however, took him for the 
summer to Sachseln, which is situated 
at an altitude of only two thousand feet, 
and he spent a good summer. But he 
must needs go up the Pilatus by rail 
(seven thousand feet), relying on the 
professor's permission, and the result was 
disastrous, tor he almost died from a vio- 
lent attack of angina pectoris on the 
night of his return from the Pilatus, 
and vowed on his return to Zurich to 
keep under three thousand feet in fu- 
ture. I may here mention that bad re- 
sults in the shape of heart collapse, an- 
gina pectoris, cardiac asthma, and last, 
not least, apoplexy, often occur only on 
the return to the lowlands." 

The Parliamentary Amenities 
Committee. — ^Under the above rather 
misleading title there was formed last 
year, in the English Parliament, a com- 
mittee for the purpose of promoting con- 
certed action in the preservation and 
protection of landmarks of general pub- 
lic interest, historic buildings, famous 
battlefields, and portions of landscape of 
unusual scenic beauty or geological con- 
formation, and also for the protection 
from entire extinction of the various 
animals and even plants which the 
spread of civilization is gradually push- 
ing to the wall. In reality, it is an of- 
ficial society for the preservation of 
those things among the works of past 
man and Nature which, owing to their 
lack of direct money value, are in dan- 
ger of destruction in this intensely com- 
7nercial age. Despite the comparative 
newness of the American civilization, 
there are already many relics belonging 
to the history of our republic whose 
preservation is very desirable, as well 
as very doubtful, if some such public- 
spirited committee does not take the 
matter in hand; and, as regards the re- 
mains of the original Americans, in 
which the country abounds, the neces- 
sity is still more immediate. The of- 
ficial care of Nature's own curiosities is 
equally needed, as witness the way in 



which the Hudson River palisades are 
being mutihited, and tlie constant raids 
upon our city parks for speedways, 
parade grounds, etc. The great value 
of a parliamentary or congressional com- 
mittee of this sort lies in the fact that 
its opinions are not only based upon ex- 
pert knowledge, but that they can be 
to an extent enforced; whereas such a 
body of men with no olTicial position 
may go on making suggestions and pro- 
testing, as have numerous such bodies 
for years, without producing any prac- 
tical results. Tlie matter is, with us 
perhaps, one of more importance to fu- 
ture generations; but as all Nature 
seems ordered primarily with reference 
to the future welfare of the race, rather 
than for the comfort of its present mem- 
bers, the necessity for such an official 
body, whose specific business shoidd be 
to look after the preservation of objects 
of historical interest to the succeeding 
centuries, ought to be inculcated in us 
as a part of the general evolutionary 

Physical Measurements of Asy- 
lum Children. — Dr. Ales Hrdlicka has 
published an account of anthropological 
investigations and measurements which 
he has made upon one thousand white 
and colored children in the New York 
Juvenile Asylum and one hundred col- 
ored children in the Colored Orphan Asy- 
lum, for information about the physical 
state of the children who are admitted 
and kept in juvenile asylums, and par- 
ticularly to learn whether there is any- 
thing physically abnormal about them. 
Some abnormality in the social or moral 
condition of such children being as- 
sumed, if they are also physically in- 
ferior to other children, they would have 
to be considered generally handicapped 
in the struggle for life; but if tliey do 
not differ greatly in strength and con- 
stitution from the average ordinary chil- 
dren, then their state would be much 
more hopeful. Among general facts con- 
cerning the condition of the children 
in the Juvenile Asylum, Dr. Hrdlicka 
learned that when admitted to the insti- 
tution they are almost always in some 
way morally and physically inferior to 
healthy children from good social classes 
at large— ^the result, usually, of neglect 
or improper nutrition or both. Within a 
month, or even a week, decided changes 

for the better are observed, and after 
their admission the individuals of the 
same sex and age seem gradually, while 
preserving the fundamental differences 
of their nature, to show less of their 
former diversity and grow more alike. 
In learning, the newcomers are more or 
less retarded when put into the school, 
but in a great majority of cases they 
begin to acquire rapidly, and the child 
usually reaches the average standing of 
the class. Inveterate backwardness in 
learning is rare. Phjsically, about one 
seventh of all the inmates of the asylum 
were without a blemish on their bodies — 
a proportion which will not seem small 
to persons well versed in analyses of the 
kind. The differences in the physical 
standing of the boys and the girls were 
not so great or so general as to permit 
building a hypothesis upon them, though 
the girls came out a little the better. 
The colored boys seemed to be physically 
somewhat inferior to the white ones, but 
the number of them waa not large 
enough to justify a conclusion. Of the 
children not found perfect, two hundred 
presented only a single abnormality, and 
this usually so small as hardly to jus- 
tify excluding them from the class of 
perfect. Regarding as decidedly abnor- 
mal only those in whom one half the 
parts of the body showed defects, the 
number was eighty-seven. " Should we, 
for the sake of illustration, express the 
physical condition of the children by 
such terms as fine, medium, and bad, 
the fine and bad would emlirace in all 
192 individuals, while 808 would remain 
as medium." All the classes of abnor- 
malities — congenital, pathological, and 
acquired — seemed more numerous in the 
boys than in the girls. The colored chil- 
dren showed fewer inborn abnormalities 
than the white, but more pathological 
and acquired. No child was found who 
could be termed a thorough physical de- 
generate, and the author concludes that 
the majority of the class of children 
dealt with are physically fairly average 

Busy Birds. — A close observation of 
a day's work of busy activity, of a day's 
work of the chipping sparrow hunting 
and catching insects to feed its yoimg, 
is recorded by Clarence M. Weed in a 
Bulletin of the New Hampshire College 
Agricultural Experiment Station. Mr. 



Weed began his watch before full day- 
light in the morning, ten minutes before 
the bird got off from its nest, and con- 
tinued it till after dark. During the 
busy day Mr. Weed says, in his sum- 
mary, the parent birds made almost two 
hundred visits to the nest, bringing food 
nearly every time, though some of the 
trips seem to have been made to furnish 
grit for the grinding of the food. There 
was no long interval when they were not 
at work, the longest period between vis- 
its being twenty-seven minutes. Soft- 
bodied caterpillars were the most abun- 
dant elements of the food, but crickets 
and crane flies were also seen, and doubt- 
less a great variety of insects were taken, 
but precise determination of the quality 
of most of the food brought was of course 
impossible. The observations were un- 
dertaken especially to learn the regular- 
ity of the feeding habits of the adult 
birds. The chipping sparrow is one of 
the most abundant and familiar of our 
birds. It seeks its nesting site in the 
vicinity of houses, and spends most of its 
time searching for insects in grass lands 
or cultivated fields and gardens. In New 
England two broods are usually reared 
each season. That the j'oung keep the 
parents busy catching insects and re- 
lated creatures for their food is shown 
by the minute record which the author 
publishes in his paper. The bird de- 
serves all the protection and encourage- 
ment that can be given it. 

Park-making among the Sand 
Dunes. — For the creation of Golden 
Gate Park the park-makers of San Fran- 
cisco had a series of sand hills, " hills on 
hills, all of sand-dune formation." The 
city obtained a strip of land lying be- 
tween the bay and the ocean, yet close 
enough to the center of population to be 
cheaply and easily reached from all parts 
of the town. Work was begun in 1SG9, 
and has been prosecuted steadily since, 
with increasing appropriations, and the 
results are a credit to the city. Golden 
Gate Park, Mr. Frank H. Lamb says in 
his account of it in The Forester, having 
a charm that distinguishes it from other 
city parks. It has a present area of 1,040 
acres, of which 300 acres have been suffi- 
ciently reclaimed to be planted with co- 
niferous trees. " It is this portion of the 
park which the visitor sees as one of the 
sights of the Golden Gate." As he rides 

through the park out toward the Cliff 
House and Sutro Heights by the Sea, " he 
sees still great stretches of sand, some 
loose, some still held in place by the long 
stems and rhizomes of the sand grass 
(Arundo arenaria). This is the prepara- 
tory stage in park-making. The method 
in brief is as follows: The shifting sand 
is seeded with Arundo arenaria, and 
this is allowed to grow two years, when 
the ground is sufficiently held in place 
to begin the second stage of reclama- 
tion, which consists in planting arboreal 
species, generally the Monterey pine 
{Pimts insiffnis) and the Monterey cy- 
press {CupiTSSus macrocarpus) ; with 
these are also planted the smaller Lepto- 
spermvm Iwvigatum and Acacia lati- 
folia. These species in two or more years 
complete the reclamation, and then at- 
tention is directed to making up all losses 
of plants and encouraging growth as 
much as possible." The entire cost of 
reclamation by these methods is repre- 
sented not to average more than fifty dol- 
lars per acre. 

A Fossiliferous Formation below 
the Cambrian. — ]\Ir. George F. Mat- 
thew said, in a communication to the 
New York Academy of Sciences, that he 
had been aware for several years of the 
existence of fauna in the rocks below 
those containing Paradoridcs and Pro- 
tolenus in New Brunswick, eastern Can- 
ada, but that the remains of the higher 
types of organisms found in those rocks 
were so poorly preserved and fragmen- 
tary that they gave a very imperfect 
knowledge of their nature. Only the 
casts of HyoUthidw, the mold of an obe- 
lus, a ribbed shell, and parts of what ap- 
peared to be the arms and bodies of cri- 
noids were known, to assure us that 
there had been living forms in the seas 
of that early time other than Protozoa 
and burrowing worms. These objects 
were found in the upper division of a 
series of rocks immediately subjacent to 
the Cambrian strata containing Proto- 
lenns. etc. As a decided physical break 
was discovered between the strata con- 
taining them and those having Proto- 
Icnus, the underlying series was thought 
worthy of a distinctive name, and was 
called Etchemenian, after a tribe of abo- 
rigines that once inhabited the region. 
In most countries the basement of the 
Paleozoic sediments seems almost de- 



void of organic remains. Only unsatis- 
factory results have followed the search 
for them in Europe, and America did 
not seem to promise a much better re- 
turn. Nevertheless, the indications of a 
fauna obtained in the maritime prov- 
inces of Canada seemed to afford a hope 
that somewhere " these basement beds of 
the Paleozoic might yield remains in a 
better state of preservation. The au- 
thor, therefore, in the summer of 1898, 
made a visit to a part of Newfoundland 
where a clear section of sediments had 
been found below the horizons of Para- 
(lo.rkles and Afirnulos strenuus. These 
formations were examined at Manuel's 
Brook and Smith's Sound. In the beds 
defined as Etchemenian no trilobites 
were found, though other classes of ani- 
mals, such as gastropods, brachiopods, 
and lamellibranchs, occur, with which 
trilobites elsewhere are usually associ- 
ated in the Cambrian and later geological 
systems. The absence, or possibly the 
rarity of the trilobites appears to have 
special significance in view of their 
prominence among Cambrian fossils. The 
uniformity of conditions attending the 
depositions of the Etchemenian terrane 
throughout the Atlantic coast province 
of the Cambrian is spoken of as surpris- 
ing and as pointing to a quiescent pe- 
riod of long continuance, during which 
the Ui/nUtJiidm and Capidid(V developed 
so as to become the dominant types of 
the animal world, while the brachio- 
pods, the lamellibranchs, and the other 
gastropods still were puny and insig- 
nificant." ^Ir. Matthew last year exam- 
ined the red shales at Braintree, Mass., 
and was informed by Prof. W. O. Crosby 
that they included many of the types 
specified as characteristic of the Etche- 
menian fauna, and that no trilobites 
had with certainty been obtained from 
them. The conditions of their deposition 
closely resemble those of the Etcheme- 
nian of Newfoundland. 

The Paris Exposition, 1900, and 
Congresses. — The grounds of the Paris 
Exposition of 1900 extend from the 
southwest angle of the Place de la Con- 
corde along both banks of the Seine, 
nearly a mile and a half, to the Avenue 
de Suffren, which forms the western 
boundary of the Champ de Mars. The 
principal exhibition spaces are the Park 
of the Art palaces and the Esplanade 

des Tnvalides at the east, and the Champ 
de Mars and the Trocadero at the west. 
Many entrances and exits will be pro- 
vided, but the principal and most impos- 
ing one will be erected at the Place de 
la Concorde, in the form of a triumpluil 
arch. Pailways will be provided to 
bring visitors from the city to the 
grounds, and another railway will make 
their entire circuit. The total surface 
occupied by the exposition grounds is 
three hundred and thirty-six acres, while 
that of the exposition of 1889 was two 
hundred and forty acres. Another area 
has been secured in the Park of Vin- 
cennes for the exhibition of athletic 
games, sports, etc. The displays will be 
installed for the most part by groups in- 
stead of nations. The International Con- 
gress of Prehistoric Anthropology and 
Archaeology will be held in connection 
with the exposition, August 20th to 
August 25th. The arrangements for it 
are under the charge of a committee 
that includes the masters and leading 
representatives of the science in France, 
of which ]\I. le Dr. Verneau, 148 Rue 
Broca, Paris, is seci-etary general. A 
congress of persons interested in aerial 
navigation will be held in the Observa- 
tory of Meudon, the director of which, 
M. Janssen, is president of the Organ- 
izing Committee. Correspondence re- 
specting this congress should be ad- 
dressed to the secretary general, M. Tri- 
boulet. Director de Journal I'Aeronaute, 
10 Rue de la Pepiniere, Paris. 

English Plant Names. — Common 
Englisli and American names of plants 
are treated byBritton and Brown, in their 
Illustrated Flora of the Northern United 
States, Canada, and the British posses- 
sions, as full of interest from their origin, 
history, and significance. As observed in 
Britton and Holland's Dictionary, " they 
are derived from a variety of languages, 
often carrying us back to the early days 
of our country's history and to the va- 
rious peoples who, as conquerors or col- 
onists, have landed on our shores and left 
an impress on our language. Many of 
these Old-World words are full of poet- 
ical association, speaking to us of the 
thoughts and feelings of the Old-World 
people who invented them; others tell of 
the ancient mythology of our ancestors, 
of strange old mediaeval usages, and of 
superstitions now almost forgotten." 



Most of these names, Biitton and Brown 
continue in the preface to the third vol- 
ume of their •work, sugf,fest their own ex- 
planation. " The greater number are 
either derived from the supposed uses, 
qualities, or properties of the plants; 
many refer to their habitat, appearance, 
or resemblance, real or fancied, to other 
things; others come from poetical sug- 
gestion, affection, or association with 
saints or persons. Many are very graph- 
ic, as the Western name prairie fire (Cas- 
tillea coccinca) ; many are quaint or hu- 
morous, as cling rascal {Galium sparine) 
or wait-a-bit (Smilax rotundifolia) ; and 
in some the corruptions are amusing, as 
Aunt Jerichos (New England) for An- 
gelica. The words horse, ox, dog, bull, 
snake, toad, are often used to denote size, 
coarseness, worthlessness, or aversion. 
Devil or devil's is used as a prefix for up- 
ward of forty of our plants, mostly ex- 
pressive of dislike or of some traditional 
resemblance or association. A number of 
names have been contributed by the In- 
dians, such as chinquapin, wicopy, pip- 
sissewa, wankapin, etc., while the term 
Indian, evidently a favorite, is applied as 
a descriptive prefix to upward of eighty 
different plants." There should be no 
antagonism in the use of scientific and 
popular names, since their purposes are 
quite different. The scientific names are 
necessary to students for accuracy, " but 
the vernacular names are a part of the 
development of the language of each peo- 
ple. Though these names are sometimes 
indicative of specific characters and 
hence scientifically valuable, they are 
for the most part not at all scientific, 
but utilitarian, emotional, or pictur- 
esque. As such they are invaluable not 
for science, but for the common intelli- 
gence and the appreciation and enjoy- 
ment of the plant world," 

Educated Colored Labor.- — In a 
paper published in connection with the 
Proceedings of the Trustees of the John 
F. Slater "Fund, I\Ir. Booker T. Wash- 
ington describes his efi'orts, made at the 
suggestion of the trustees, to bring the 
work done at the Tuskegee school to 
the knowledge of the white people of 
the South, and their success. Mr. 
Carver, instructor in agriculture, went 
before the Alabama Legislature and 
gave an exhibition of his methods and 
results before the Committee on Agri- 

culture. The displays of butter and 
other farm products proved so interest- 
ing that many members of the Legisla- 
ture and other citizens inspected the 
exhibit, and all expressed their gratifi- 
cation. A full description of the work 
in agriculture was published in the 
Southern papers: "The result is that 
the white people are constantly apply- 
ing to us for persons to take charge of 
farms, dairies, etc., and in many ways 
showing that their interest in our work 
is growing in proportion as they see the 
value of it." A visit made by the Presi- 
dent of the United States gave an oppor- 
tunity of assembling within the institu- 
tion five members of the Cabinet with 
their families, the Governor of Alabama, 
both branches of the Alabama Legisla- 
ture, and thousands of white and col- 
ored people from all parts of the South. 
" The occasion was most helpful in 
bringing together the two sections of 
our country and the two races. No 
people in any part of the world could 
have acted more generously and shown 
a deeper interest in this school than did 
the white people of Tuskegee and Ma- 
con County during the visit of the Presi- 

Geology of Columbus, Ohio. — In 

his paper, read at the meeting of the 
American Association, on the geology of 
Ohio, Dr. Orton spoke of the construc- 
tion of glacial drifts as found in central 
Ohio and the source of the material of 
the drift, showing that the bowlder clay 
is largely derived from the comminution 
of black slake, the remnants of which 
appear in North Columbus. He spoke 
also of the bowlders scattered over the 
surface of the region about Columbus, 
the parent rocks of which may be traced 
to the shores of the northern lakes, and 
of Jasper's conglomerate, picturesque 
fragments of which may be found 
throughout central Ohio. Some of these 
bowlders are known to have come from 
Lake Ontario. Bowlders of native cop- 
per also occur, one of which M'as found 
eight feet below the surface in excava- 
tions carried on for the foundations of 
the asylum west of the Scioto. 

Civilized and Savag'e. — Professor 
Semon, in his book In the Australian 
Bush, characterizes the treatment of the 
natives by the settlers as constituting, 



on the whole, one of the darkest chapters 
in the colonization of Australia. " Every- 
Avhcre and always we find the same 
process: the whites arrive and settle in 
the hunting grounds of the blacks, who 
have frequented them since the remotest 
time. They raise paddocks, which the 
blacks are forbidden to enter. They 
breed cattle, which the blacks are not 
allowed to approach. Then it happens 
that these stupid savages do not know 
how to distinguish between a marsupial 
and a placental animal, and spear a calf 
or a cow instead of a kangaroo, and tlie 
Avhite man takes revenge for this mis- 
deed by systematically killing all the 
blacks that come before his gun. This, 
again, the natives take amiss, and thi'ow 

a spear into his back wlien he rides 
through the bush, or invade his house 
when he is absent, killing his family and 
servants. Then arrive the ' native po- 
lice,' a troop of blacks from another 
district, headed by a white officer. They 
know the tricks of their race, and take 
a special pleasure in hunting down their 
own countrymen, and they avenge the 
farmer dead by killing all the blacks in 
the neighborhood, sometimes also their 
women and children. This is the al- 
most tj'pical progress of colonization, 
and even though such things are abol- 
ished in the southeastern colonies and 
in southeast and central Queensland, 
they are by no means unheard of in the 
north and west." 


In a brood of five nestling sparrow- 
hawks, which he had the opportunity of 
stvidying alive and dead, Dr. R. W. Shu- 
feldt remarked that the largest and 
therefore oldest bird was nearly double 
the size of the youngest or smallest one, 
while the three others were graduated 
down from the largest to the smallest in 
almost exact proportions. " It was evi- 
dent, then, that the female had laid the 
eggs at regular intervals, and very likely 
three or four days apart, and that incu- 
bation commenced immediately after the 
first egg was deposited. What is more 
worthy of note, however, is the fact that 
the sexes of these nestlings alternated, 
the oldest bird being a male, tlie next a 
female, followed by another male, and so 
on, the last or youngest one of all five 
being a male. This last had a plumage 
of pure white down, with the pin feath- 
ers of the primaries and secondaries of 
the wings, as Avell as the rectrices of the 
tail, just beginning to open at their ex- 
tremities. From this stage gradual de- 
velopment of the plumage is exhibited 
throughout the series, the entire plum- ' 
age of the males and females being very 
dilferent and distinctive." If it be true, 
as is possibly indicated, that the sexes 
alternate in broods of young sparrow- 
hawks as a regular thing, the author has 
no explanation for tlie fact, and has 
ne\er heard of any being olTercd. 


the following interesting facts regard- 
ing the building trades in Chicago: " Re- 

ports from Chicago are that labor in 
building lines is scarce. The scarcity 
of men is giving the building trades 
council trouble to meet the require- 
ments of contractors. It is said that 
half a dozen jobs that are ready to go 
ahead are at a standstill because men 
can not be had, particularly iron work- 
ers and laborers — the employees first to 
be employed in the construction of the 
modern building. . It is also said that 
wages have never been better in the 
building line. The following is the 
schedule of wages, based on an eight- 
hour day: Carpenters, $3.40; electri- 
cians, .$3.7.5; bridge and structural iron 
workers, .$3.00; tin and sheet-iron work- 
ers, $3.20; plumbers, $4; steam fitters, 
$3.75; elevator constructors, $3; hoist- 
ing engineers, $4; derrick men, $2; gas- 
fitters, $3.75; plasterers, $4; marble cut- 
ters, $3.50; gravel roofers, $2.80; boiler- 
makers, $2.40; stone sawyers and rub- 
bers, $3; marble enamel glassworkers' 
helpers, $2.25; slate and tile roofers, 
$3.80; marble setters' helpers, $2; steam- 
fitters' helpers, $2; stone cutters, $4; 
stone carvers, $5; bricklayers, .$4; paint- 
ers, $3; hod carriers and building labor- 
ers, $2; plasterers' hod carriers, $2.40; 
mosaic and encaustic tile layers, $4; 
helpers, $2.40." 

Ix presenting the fourth part of his 
memoir on The Tertiary Fauna of Flor- 
ida (Transactions of the Wagner Free 
Institute of Science, Philadelphia), Mr. 
William Healey Dall observes that the 



interest aroused in the explorations of 
Florida by the Wagner Institute and its 
friends and by the United States Geo- 
logical Survey has resulted in bringing 
in a constantly increasing mass of ma- 
terial. The existence of Upper Oligo- 
cene beds in western Florida containing 
hundreds of species, many of which were 
new, added two populous faunas to the 
Tertiary series. It having been found 
that a number of the species belonging 
to these beds had been described from 
the Antillean tertiaries, it became neces- 
sary, in order to put the work on a 
sound foundation, besides the review of 
the species known to occur in the United 
States, to extend the revision to the ter- 
tiaries of the West Indies. It is believed 
that the results will be beneficial in 
clearing the way for subsequent students 
and putting the nomenclature on a more 
permanent and reliable basis. 

The numerical system of the natives 
of Murray Island, Torres Strait, is de- 
scribed by the Eev. A. E. Hunt, in the 
Journal of the Anthropological Society, 
as based on two numbers — netat, one, 
and neis, two. The numbers above two 
are expressed by composition — neis-ne- 
tat, three; neis i neis, or two and two, 
four. Numbers above four are associ- 
ated with parts of the body, beginning 
with the little and other fingers of the 
left hand, and going on to the wrist, 
elbow, armpit, shoulder, etc., on the left 
side and going down on the right side, 
to 21 ; and the toes give ten numbers 
more, to 31. Larger numbers are simply 
" many." 

President William Ortox, of the 
American Association, in his address at 
the welcoming meeting, showed, in the 
light of the facts recorded in Alfred R. 
Wallace's book on The Wonderful Cen- 
tury, that the scientific achievements of 
the present century exceed all those of 
the past combined. He then turned to 
the purpose of the American Associa- 
tion to labor for the discovery of new 
truth, and said: "It is possible that we 
could make ourselves more interesting to 
the general public if we occasionally 
foreswore our loyalty to our name and 
spent a portion of our time in restating 
established truths. Our contributions 
to the advancement of science are often 
fragmentary and devoid of special inter- 
est to the outside world. But every 

one of them has a place in the great 
temple of knowledge, and the wise mas- 
ter builders, some of whom appear in 
every generation, will find them all and 
use them all at last, and then only will 
their true value come to light." 


The number of broods of seventeen- 
year and thirteen-year locusts has be- 
come embarrassing to those who seek to 
distinguish tliem, and the trouble is com- 
plicated by the various designations dif- 
ferent authors have given them. The 
usual method is to give the brood a num- 
ber in a series, written with a Roman 
numeral. Mr. C. L. Marlatt proposes a 
regular and uniform nomenclature, giv- 
ing the first seventeen numbers to the 
seventeen-year broods, beginning with 
that of 1893 as number I, and the next 
thirteen numbers (XVIII to XXX) to 
the thirteen-year broods, beginning with 
the brood of 1842 and 1855 as number 

Experimenting on the adaptability 
of carbonic acid to the inflation of pneu- 
matic tires, M. d'Arsonval, of Paris, has 
found that the gas acts upon India rub- 
ber, and, swelling its volume out enor- 
mously, reduces it to a condition like 
that following maceration in petroleum. 
On exposure to the air the carbonic acid 
passes away and the India rubber re- 
turns to its normal condition. Carbonic 
acid, therefore, does not seem well adapt- 
ed to use in infiation. Oxygen is like- 
wise not adapted, because it permeates 
the India rubber and oxidizes it, but 
nitrogen is quite inert and answers the 
purpose admirably. 

Mr. Gifford Pinciiot, Forester of 
the Department of Agriculture, has an- 
nounced that a few well-qualified per- 
sons ■will be received in the Division of 
Forestry as student-assistants. They 
will be assigned to practical field work, 
and will be allowed their expenses and 
three hundred dollars a year. They are 
expected to possess, when they come, a 
certain degree of knowledge, which is 
defined in Mr. Pinchot's announcement, 
of botany, geology, and other sciences, 
with good general attainments. 

In a communication made to the gen- 
eral meeting of the French Automobile 
Club, in ]\Iay, the Baron de Zeylen enu- 
merates 600 manufacturers in France 
who have produced 5,250 motor-carriages 
and about 10,000 motoi'-cycles ; 110 mak- 
ers in England, 80 in Germany, 60 in 
'the United States, 55 in Belgium, 25 in 
Switzerland, and about 30 in the other 



states of Europe. The manufacture out- 
side of France does not appear to be 
on a large scale, for only tlncc hundred 
carriages are credited to other countries, 
and half of these to Belgium. The United 
States, however, promises to give a good 
account of itself next time. 

Mine No. 8 of the Sunday Creek 
Coal Company, to which the American 
Association made its Saturday excur- 
sion from Columbus, Ohio, has recently 
been equipped with electric power, which 
is obtained by utilizing the waste gas 
from the oil wells in the vicinity. This, 
the Ohio State Journal says, is ihe first 
mine in the State to make use of this 
natural power. 

In a bulletin relating to a " dilution 
cream separator " which is now mar- 
keted among farmers, the Purdue Uni- 
versity Agricultural Experiment Station 
refers to the results of experiments made 
several years ago as showing that an in- 
creased loss of fat occurs in skim milk 
when dilution is practiced, that the loss 
is greater with cold than with warm 
water, and that the value of the skim 
milk for feeding is impaired when it is 
diluted. Similar results have been ob- 
tained at other experiment stations. The 
results claimed to be realized with the 
separators can be obtained by diluting 
the milk in a comparatively inexpensive 
round can. 

To our death list of men known in 
science we have to add the names of 
John Cordreaux, an English ornitholo- 
gist, who was eminent as a student, for 
thirty-six years, of bird migrations, and 
Avas secretary of the British Associa- 
tion's committee on that subject, at 
Great Cotes House, Lincolnshire, Eng- 
land, August 1st, in his sixty-ninth 
year; he was author of a book on the 
Birds of the Ilumber District, and of 
numerous contributions to The Zoolo- 
gist and The Ibis; Gaston Tissandier, 
founder, and editor for more than twen- 
tj' years, of the French scientific journal 
La Nature, at Paris, August SOth, in 
his fifty-seventh year; besides his devo- 
tion to his journal, he was greatly in- 
terested in aerial navigation, to which 
he devoted much time and means in ex- 
periments, and was a versatile author 
of popular books touching various de- 
j)artments of science; Judge Charles P. 
Daly, of New York, who, as president 
for thirty-six years of the American 
Geographical Society, contributed very 
largely to the encouragement and prog- 
ress of geographical study in the Ihiited 
States, Sei)tembcr 19th, in his eighty- 
fourth year; he was an honorary mem- 
ber of the Royal Geographical Society 

of London, of the Berlin Geographical 
Society, and of the Imperial Geograph- 
ical Society of Russia; he was a judge 
of the Court of Common Pleas of New 
York from 1844 to 1858, and after that 
chief justice of the same court continu- 
ously for twenty-seven years, and was 
besides, a publicist of high reputation, 
whose opinion and advice were sought 
by men charged with responsibility con- 
cerning them on many important State 
and national questions; Henri Levegne 
de Vilmorin, lirst vice-president of the 
Paris School of Horticulture; 0. G. 
Jones, Physics Master of the City of 
London School, from an accident on 
the Dent Blanche, Alps, August 30th; 
Ambrose A. P. Stewart, formerly in- 
structor in chemistry in the Lawrence 
Scientific School, and afterward Pro- 
fessor of Chemistry in the Pennsylvania 
State College and in the University of 
Illinois, at Lincoln, Neb., September 
13th ; Dr. Charles Fayette Taylor, found- 
er of the New Y^ork Orthopedic Dis- 
pensary, and author of articles in the 
Popular Science Monthly on Bodily 
Conditions as related to Mental States 
(vol. xv), Gofio, Food, and Physique 
(vol. xxxi), and Climate and Health 
(vol. xlvii), and of books relating to 
his special vocation, died in Los An- 
geles, CaL, January 25th, in his seventy- 
second year. 

Efforts are making for the forma- 
tion of a Soppitt Memorial Library of 
jNIycological Literature, to be presented 
to the Yorkshire (England) Naturalists' 
Union as a memorial of the services ren- 
dered to mycological science and to 
Y'orkshire natural history generally, by 
the late Mr. H. T. Soppitt. 

The United States Department of 
Agriculture has published, for general 
information and in order to develop a 
wider interest in the subject, the His- 
tory and Present Status of Instruction 
in Cooking in the Public Schools of New 
Y^ork ('ity, by Mrs. Louise E. Hogan, to 
which an introduction is furnished by 
A. C. True, Ph. D. 

The United States Weather Bureau 
publishes a paper On Lightning and 
Electricity in the Air, by Alexander G. 
McAdic, representing the present knowl- 
edge on the subject, and, as supplemen- 
tary to it or forming a second part. Loss 
of Life and Property by Electricity, by 
Alfred J. Henry. 

A GIFT of one thousand dollars has 
been made to the research fund of the 
American Association for the Ailvance- 
ment of Science l)y ]\Ir. Emerson McMil- 
lin, of New Y'^ork. 





DECEMBER, 1899. 


By franklin' H. GIDDINGS, Ph. D., 
peofessob of sociology in columbia university. 

THOSE who do pioneer work in science encounter not only 
tlie inherent difficulties of research and interpretation, but 
also the misapprehension of certain educated men whose distinc- 
tive gift is a fatal genius for applying false standards of measure- 
ment to the progress of thought. Seizing upon some branch of 
knowledge that is in a state of vigorous development, when its 
newer results are out of harmony with its earlier hypotheses, such 
critics love to point out these contradictions, and try to prove that 
the branch in question is no science at all, and that its teachers 
are hardly worthy of respectful consideration. 

The history of science contains many interesting chapters per- 
taining to this kind of criticism and the fate that has invariably 
overtaken it. "When Copernicus and Galileo showed the absurd- 
ity of the Ptolemaic astronomy, the theologians enjoyed themselves 
for a time, as they demonstrated — to their own entire satisfaction — ■ 
the folly of all rationalistic attempts to explain what revelation 
only could make clear. When Darwin explained the origin of 
species through variation and natural selection, the pretensions of 
biology were completely exploded by its lay and clerical critics 
(they thought and said so) by the extremely simple device of the 
" deadly parallel column," Was not Cuvier a great anatomist, 
and had he ever taught this nonsense about the mutability of spe- 
cies? Was not Agassiz the most learned naturalist alive, and what 
had he to say about Darwinian vagaries? Had he not proved, 
over and over again, that the very concept of the species was the 

TOL. LTI. — 12 


notion of a group of characteristics that could not possibly change 
or be changed from generation to generation? In more recent 
years we have again seen the same method of reducing science 
to a variety show for the entertainment of the tired general reader 
applied to both biology and psychology. Weismann has tried to 
prove that acquired characteristics are not transmitted in heredity, 
and that the germ plasm is distinct from the somatic cells. The 
neo-Lamarckians, Spencer, Cope, and some of the botanists have 
contended for the older interpretation. Is biology, then, a sci- 
ence? Forbid the thought! Heaven preserve our minds from 
such confusion! 

If the sociologists have hoped that they alone might not be 
overtaken by easy annihilation, they deserve to be humiliated. 
But it is safe to say that they have cherished no such illusions. 
If the men who have devoted much time to the scientific explana- 
tion of society have had no other qualification for their task, they 
have at least shown some acquaintance with the history of thought. 
And so it is not likely that they have suffered deeply from disen- 
chantment when they have been confronted with the regulation 
exposure of " the present position " of their science. 

There is no need of wasting space to prove that the kind of 
criticism here referred to is without scientific value. The present 
position of any science can not be determined by arraying its con- 
tradictions and inconsistencies, irrespective of a serious attempt to 
ascertain which of its concepts and hypotheses have inherent vital- 
ity. It is precisely when a science is at its best, surely advancing 
year by year and full of promise for the future, that contradic- 
tions most abound in its monographs and text-books. 

A true scientific criticism, then, must proceed by a different 
method. The present position of a science can be ascertained only 
by instituting three specific inquiries, namely: First, among the 
more or less contradictory conceptions and hypotheses which con- 
stitute its groundwork, what ones are surely displacing all others 
and gaining the wider acceptance among active students? Second, 
what progress is being made in the application of exact methods 
to research? Third, is there a practical or working harmony be- 
tween the concepts that are gaining ground and the more exact 
methods of research that are being perfected? Do the concepts 
and hypotheses lend themselves to exact methods, and do they, on 
the whole, help to perfect methods? Do improving methods, on 
the whole, confirm or strengthen the concepts that are gaining 
wider acceptance? 

If these inquiries are applied in the domain of sociology they 
bring to light immistakable evidence of a steady and gratifying 


progress toward scientific consistency and rigor of method. Muck 
babble about social ills and possible reforms still masquerades as 
social science. A great deal of loose thinking and slipshod inves- 
tigation is paraded as expert opinion on questions of social wel- 
fare. But no one who has seriously followed the efforts of scien- 
tifically trained minds to discover the natural laws of social evo- 
lution is in any danger of confounding the results thus far 
obtained with the chatter over every passing fad. In the more 
serious work itself there is found a vigorous and hopeful disagree- 
ment of opinion upon all unsettled questions. But the fact of real 
significance is that the disputation has become intensive. The 
debate no longer ranges over a wide field. A selective process 
has eliminated one after another the more loose and vague con- 
ceptions of the science, the irrelevant issues, and the superficial 
analogies. There has been a progressive concentration of atten- 
tion upon a group of closely related and fundamental problems. 

The sociology of August Comte was little more than a highly 
intelligent and quickening talk about social order and progress. 
It convinced thoughtful men that there is a social order to be 
studied in a scientific spirit and by scientific methods, and that 
social progress conforms to laws that may be discovered. Mr. 
Spencer narrowed the field of sociological inquiry and gave pre- 
cision of statement to all social problems by bringing them within 
the formulas of universal evolution. He still further narrowed 
the field by demonstrating the close relationship of social phe- 
nomena to the phenomena of organic evolution and by seizing upon 
certain psychological facts as chief factors in social causation. All 
fruitful later work in social interpretation has been a further con- 
centration of investigation upon the psychic factors. While ad- 
mitting that social as well as mental phenomena are subsumed 
under biological phenomena, and that the parallelism of social 
organization to biotic organization is real, the younger students 
of sociology have developed the science as an offshoot of psychol- 
ogy, and have dropped the biological analogy as unfruitful for 
purposes of research. The pioneer in this movement was Dr. 
Lester F. Ward, whose masterly analysis of the psychic factors of 
social phenomena gave the right direction for all time to socio- 
logical inquiry, and whose emphasis of the importance of reason 
and volition in the social process, although it has not yet received 
the attention that it merits, is destined to be fruitful in coming 

To the further study of the psychological foundations of so- 
ciety practically all the valuable work on fundamental social 
problems has been given during the past ten years. Tarde has 


given us profound studies of imitation and invention; Gumplo- 
wicz and Lc Bon, of the psychology of races and culture groups; 
]S^ovico^v, of the psychology of conflict and toleration; Le Bon 
and Durkheim, of the psychology of crowds, of co-operation, and 
of the division of labor; Baldwin, of the psychology of the social 
unit — the socius. 

Thus it appears that w^hile sharp disagreements of opinion still 
exist relative to the priority or the generality of one or another of 
these psychic factors in the social process, discussion has focused 
about the psychological phenomena themselves. There has been 
a progressive limitation of the field and an increasing definiteness 
of conception and hypothesis. 

My own effort, if now I may be pardoned for referring to it, 
has been to restrict the field yet further, and to make the prob- 
lems of sociology yet more specific. I have contended that these 
psychological phenomena which have been seized upon for pur- 
poses of sociological interpretation are still too vaguely conceived. 
They are often disclosed to the inquirer in purely individual as 
well as in social aspects. The lines of inquiry between the study 
of mind in general, of mind as individual, and of mind as mani- 
festing itself socially in the concert or co-operation of a number 
of individual minds, have not been drawn with sufficient precision. 
I have tried to show that the psychological phenomena that Ward, 
Tarde, Gumplowicz, ISTovicow, Le Bon, Durkheim, Baldwin, and 
others have so admirably analyzed as psychic factors of society are 
social when, and only when, they have certain coefficients, name- 
ly: (1) The coefficient of resemblance — that is, a fundamental 
similarity of individuals to one another underlying and, on the 
whole, dominating their innumerable differences; (2) the coeffi- 
cient of awareness or consciousness of resemblance — that is to say, 
certain feelings, perceptions, or thoughts of resemblance, which 
give rise to varied prejudices and preferences that facilitate or 
prevent effective co-operation. Whether this contention of mine 
will prevail, wliether tliere will ultimately be a general agreement 
among sociologists that these coefficients of resemblance and con- 
sciousness of kind are the true differentia of social phenomena, 
time and further research must determine. 

The second inquiry through which w^e may learn somewhat of 
the present position of sociology relates to the development of 
method. Exact method in social research is statistical. Wher- 
ever w^e can obtain numerical data within the domain of social 
phenomena, there we arrive at exact or quantitative knowledge. 
The development and application of statistical methods to social 
problems has been one of the most striking scientific achievements 


of tlie present century. When Quetelet, in 1835, publislied liis 
great work, Sur VHomme et le Developpement de ses Facultes, he 
laid the foundation for a thorough statistical investigation of psy- 
chological and sociological no less than of anatomical phenomena. 
And after the publication, in 1846, of his work, Sur la Theorie des 
Prohahilites appliquees aux Sciences morales et politiques, followed, 
in 1848, by Du Systeme social et des Lois qui le regissent, there 
was a rapid development of statistical methods in precision, and of 
attempts to extend the statistical method to groups of facts which 
had until then been studied only from a purely qualitative or, at 
best, a vaguely comparative point of view. At the present time 
every subdivision of descriptive sociology draws data from rich 
collections of statistical materials, and employs statistical methods 
for the further extension of knowledge. 

Thus, in the study of the social population, statistical methods 
are employed not only to give the total number of inhabitants 
dwelling within a given territory and the degree of density of 
population per square mile, but also to show to what extent popu- 
lation increases by births in excess of deaths, to what extent by 
immigration in excess of emigration, and to what extent the com- 
position of the population is rendered complex by the intermin- 
gling of many nationalities. The character of a population, also, 
and its social capacities are in a large measure statistically investi- 
gated. General intelligence is studied by means of statistics of liter- 
acy and illiteracy; industrial preferences by statistics of occupation; 
habits of industry by statistics of the number in every thousand 
of the total population who regularly follow gainful occupations; 
frugality by statistics of savings, insurance, and home ownership; 
and the amount of communication, whereby assimilation and co- 
operation are rendered possible, by statistics of travel, mail, and 
telegraphic service. 

Passing to that study of concerted feeling, thought, and pur- 
pose which may be called a study of the social mind, and which 
constitutes the second great division of descriptive sociology, we 
find that it can be carried on, and that to a great extent it is prose- 
cuted, by means of statistical research. 'We have statistics incom- 
plete, but admitting of perfection, of those impulsive, emotional 
disturbances of masses of men which take the form of strikes, insur- 
rections, lynchings, and revivals. The report of the United States 
Department of Labor on strikes, published in 1894, and a recently 
published monograph by Dr. Frederick S. Hall on Sympathetic 
Strikes, show the possibilities of this method whenever it shall be 
exhaustively applied. It could be successfully applied to the other 
phenomena mentioned. By painstaking effort and a sufficient ex- 


penditiire of money the data could be obtained. Lombroso and 
Laschi, in their work, Le Crime polUique et les Revolutions, liave 
made a beginning toward the collection of statistics of insurrec- 
tions and revolutions. More exact, at present, are our statistics 
of the rational working of the minds of large numbers of men in 
communication and co-operation. These we have in the familiar 
form of election returns, which show ns the decisions that com- 
munities make on questions of public policy and administration. 
This information could be increased by the application of statis- 
tical analyses to the vast body of statute law and judicial decisions. 
A beginning of such work has been made in the valuable Bulletin 
of State Legislation, published by the New York State Library. 

In the third division of descriptive sociology — that, namely, 
which treats of social organization — the application of statistical 
method is proceeding with great rapidity. We have not only sta- 
tistics (yearly improving in quality) of marriage and divorce, of 
the organization of all governmental departments, military and 
civil, of chartered corporations, of religious and educational socie- 
ties, but also of the thousands of associations formed for the pro- 
motion of special interests, recreation, scientific research, art and 
literature, and philanthropy. Every year the statistical informa- 
tion on these matters, included in such compilations as The World 
Almanac, becomes not only more extensive but more precise. 

Yet more abundant are the statistical accumulations pertain- 
ing to that fourth and last division of descriptive sociology which 
treats of the social welfare — of the functioning of society, of the 
ends for which it exists. We have statistics of prosperity, of the 
accumulation and distribution of wealth, of the expansion and con- 
traction of credit, and of business failures. We have statistics of 
longevity. We ascertain improving sanitary conditions by changes 
in the death rate. We learn by statistical methods of the increase 
or decrease of accident and death due to public disorder or mal- 
administration. We ascertain through educational statistics the 
decrease of illiteracy and superstition. And by the same means 
we ascertain the dimensions of pauperism and of crime. ISTot only 
so, but, by a certain refinement of statistical method, applied by 
competent men like Sir Francis Galton, we ascertain the increase 
or decrease and the distribution of the higher manifestations of 
intellectual ability and moral character. 

Thus the whole field of descriptive sociology is being more and 
more exhaustively studied by statistical methods that are yearly 
improving in precision. So far, then, as may be judged from the 
development of its methods, no science at the present time is mak- 
ing surer and better progress than sociology, and none is offering 


to the general public conclusions based upon more exact methods 
of induction. 

Let us now look at the relations which the development of 
statistical method bears to that development of fundamental 
conceptions, which has already been described. Do we here dis- 
cover increasing harmony, a tendency toward co-ordination, or 
have analyses of concepts, on the one hand, and developments 
of statistical method, on the other hand, followed diverging 
lines ? 

There can be no possible doubt of the answer that must be 
made to these questions. Conceptions and methods are in as per- 
fect accord as can be discovered in any branch of science. The 
merest glance over the field of social statistics shows that, for the 
most part, they record and classify phenomena that are essentially 
psychological. In working from the general theory of evolution 
through the biological parallelism down to psychological premises, 
analytical sociology has been doing in one way precisely what sta- 
tistics have been doing in another. The moment we pass from 
statistics of density and distribution of population we find our- 
selves dealing next with groups of facts that are biological (the 
facts, namely, of distribution according to sex and age periods), 
through facts that are partly biological and partly psychological 
in character (the facts, namely, of nationality), and then, leaving 
these behind, we deal henceforth entirely with facts that belong- 
to the mental and moral categories. To name them would be 
only to repeat the categories already enumerated: the statistics 
of intelligence, industry, and moral character, of emotional or 
rational social action, of various forms of organization for the 
achievement of as many different purposes, and of the develop- 
ment of the conscious personality of man as a result of his social 
relations and activities. 

]^ot only is this true, but the further interesting fact may be 
discovered that social statistics of every category employed or 
known are based upon a frank recognition of that coefiicient of 
resemblance, physical or mental, which I have contended is a mark 
of social phenomena. The first step in statistical tabulation is 
classification, and classification invariably starts from an assump- 
tion of real or supposed resemblance, l^ot to dwell on such fun- 
damental distinctions as those of color, race, and nationality, we 
encounter the more special resemblances of agreement in religious 
belief, agreement in industrial preference, agreement in political 
conviction (as shown in election returns), similar susceptibility to 
emotionalism, similar capacities for rational comprehension, simi- 
lar imperfections of nature, which result in lives of crime or pau- 


perism. Remove from social statistics tliis postulate tliat blood 
kinship or mental resemblance between one social unit and an- 
other is the basis of social phenomena, and the statistics them- 
selves would cease to exist. 

Statistics reveal also the consciousness which men have of their 
resemblances and their differences. It is statistically known that 
the geographical distribution of nationalities is not accidental or 
capricious. Immigrant Italians, Germans, and Scandinavians find 
their way to those parts of the country where men of their own 
blood and speech are already established. Intermarriages of men 
and women of different nationalities are statistically known to 
be frequent where no differences of religion exist, and infrequent 
where different nationalities profess different faiths. The statis- 
tics of political elections are quite as much statistics of the con- 
sciousness of kind as of differences of mental type itself. 

The most significant fact of all, however, has still to be named. 
It is this: From the first known beginnings of statistical research 
to the present time every extension of statistical inquiry has been 
in a large measure due to the consciousness of kind. The first 
statistical surveys of communities of which we have any record 
were such tribal enumerations as those recorded in the book of 
ISTumbers, the avowed object of which was to ascertain the strength 
and resources of the various tribes by clans, lesser gentile groups, 
and households, not more for utilitarian reasons than for the grati- 
fication of gentile and tribal pride. The census taken in Greece 
in 594 B. c. was for the purpose of dividing the people into four 
classes and levying taxes according to wealth. The constitution 
of Servius Tullius, 550 b. c, distinguished six property classes, and 
the attempt to determine these statistically was one of the earliest 
experiments in census-making at Rome. The Domesday Book of 
William I (1086) is the first great statistical document in Eng- 
lish history, and its origin was due to a desire to know not only 
the military and fiscal strength of the nation, but also its class dis- 
tinctions and feudal relationships. The great stimulus given to 
statistical investigation by the Trench Revolution was an obvious 
product of class feeling. Most of the refinements of statistical 
inquiry in later years have had a like origin. Such, for example, 
was the cause of the discrimination in our own census of the for- 
eign born from the native born, and of the native born of foreign 
parents from both native and foreign born. Such has been the 
cause of the attempt to get more exact statistics of religious de- 
nominations, of labor organizations, and of the distribution of 
wealth. Had there been no reason for including these costly in- 
quiries in statistical investigations, except that of their general 


utilitj and scientific interest, tlie appropriation for tliem would 
have been denied in Congress without an instant's hesitation. 
They have been included because of the political deference given 
to class feeling and to various forms of religious and educational 

Thus there is seen to be a remarkable interdependence of sta- 
tistical method and psychological analysis in the development of 
sociological research. Analysis and method have converged upon 
the same postulates, and it is apparently by the development of 
methods frankly founded upon these postulates that our socio- 
logical knowledge is to be further increased. 

It would be a great mistake, however, to assume that socio- 
logical knowledge is to be increased only by the further collec- 
tion and interpretation of numerical data. Careful monographic 
description and historical research must continue to be important 
sources of both information and hypothesis. The great defects of 
monographic work, both descriptive and historical, are, first, a cer- 
tain lack of pre'cision, attributable to the large part played in 
investigation by the individual judgment of the student (the lack 
of objective tests by which his subjective impressions may be crit- 
ically examined); second, a certain incompleteness, attributable 
to a failure to separate each inquiry into all its scientific sub- 
divisions and to attempt to obtain desired data under each subdi- 
vision, as is done in statistical investigation where, in every table, 
as many topics as there are scientific subdivisions of the general 
subject are represented by columns, and an entry of some kind is 
made in every column. 

I wish now to point out the possibility of giving greater pre- 
cision to monographic work in sociology by the introduction of 
quasi-statistical methods — methods that are essentially quantita- 
tive in an algebraic sense, though they are not numerical. 

Social phenomena have the interesting characteristic that small 
forces, while never lost in that composition of forces which deter- 
mines the ultimate equilibrium of the social system, often count 
for absolutely nothing in the practical affairs of a given genera- 
tion. If, for example, Mr. Bryan and a Democratic Congress had 
been elected in 1896, the practical consequences for the United 
States would have been much the same whether the Democratic 
plurality had been one hundred thousand, half a million, or two 
or three millions. This is but one example of a large class of 
facts. Social phenomena are more often than not determined by 
a mere matter of more or less, rather than by the exact amount 
or degree of more or less. The determination is algebraic rather 
than arithmetical. Is the element under investigation a positive 


or a negative quantity? Is its sign plus or minus? That is usu- 
ally tlie important question for the sociological student. 

Now it happens that a great many investigations in descriptive 
sociology do not as yet admit of the introduction of exact statis- 
tical — that is, arithmetical — inquiries V7hich, nevertheless, do ad- 
mit the use of algebraically quantitative methods. In the mono- 
graphic description of a community many questions arise which 
can not be answered by the entry of figures in a column, but which 
could be answered by entering in a column a symbol indicat- 
ing that a certain trait, habit, or choice could be predicated of a 
large majority, or of a small majority, or of only a large minority, 
or of only a small minority of the entire population. That is to 
say, it often happens that an observer who can not take a perfect 
census (getting answers to all his questions from every individual 
in the community), and who therefore can not fill out his columns 
with arithmetical values, can, by such interviewing as is possible 
to him and by such an examination of the objective products of 
social activity as are open to the inspection of any one who chooses 
to observe them critically, determine with absolute certainty 
whether certain things are true of majorities or only of minorities. 

Suppose, for example, that a traveler is studying an out-of-the- 
way settlement, or a tribe, which presents many points of interest 
that are comparatively novel. All who are familiar with the nar- 
ratives of travel and exploration which Mr. Spencer has used as 
data for his Descriptive Sociology are aware that they are almost 
totally devoid of system. The reader is told that such marriage 
customs, such clan relationships, such political institutions, such 
industrial operations, have been observed. The all-important co- 
efficient is left out. What the student of sociology would most 
of all like to know is how many individuals in the community mani- 
fest such or such a trait; how many have such or such a habit; 
how many profess such or such a belief; how many adhere to this 
organization, how many to that. But since this exact arithmet- 
ical knowledge usually can not be obtained within the limited time 
and under the circumstances of a traveler's researches, he should 
try to get at least partially quantitative results by noting in every 
instance whether the phenomenon observed is true of a majority 
or only of a minority of the people under investigation. 

This simple method admits of a high degree of refinement by 
the obvious device of subdividing the total human mass under ob- 
servation into enumeration units. If, for example, we are study- 
ing the social character and activities of the people of the United 
States, we may take the fifty Commonwealths and Territories as 
enumeration units. Making out a tabular form, we may enter 


in the left-hand column the names of the several States and Ter- 
ritories. At the top of successive columns, counting from left to 
right, we may enter words designating the social phenomena to 
be observed. Then, taking the States and Territories in order, we 
may enter opposite the name of each a symbol indicating that a 
majority large or small, or a minority large or small, of the in- 
habitants of the State or Territory in question manifests the trait 
or follows the activity, or belongs to the social organization desig- 
nated at the top of the column. The symbols that I have found 
most convenient in use are these: For a large majority, a double 
plus sign thus, -H-; for a small majority, a single plus sign thus, +; 
for a large minority, a double plus sign in a circle thus, © ; for 
a small minority, a single plus sign in a circle thus, © . 

The great possibilities in this method of giving precision to 
observations and records of the facts of social psychology and ac- 
tivity become daily more obvious to students w^ho practice it with 
reasonable care. Almost any desired degree of accuracy can be 
attained by taking smaller and smaller enumeration units. Thus, 
if I wish to form and to record my judgment as to whether the 
people of the United States as a whole manifest a high, a medium, 
or a low degree of general intelligence, I seem to be raising a ques- 
tion that admits of little better answer than a statement of vague 
impressions. But let me take a concrete measure of high general 
intelligence — for example, the general intelligence of a town noted 
for its large proportion of scientific and professional men, its 
graded schools, its satisfactory school attendance, and its low per- 
centage of illiteracy. Let me then subdivide the United States 
into fifty parts — namely, the Commonwealths and Territories — ■ 
and let me enter in a column opposite the name of each a symbol 
indicating that, as compared wdth the general intelligence of the 
town which I have taken as a standard, a large majority or a small 
majority, or a large minority or only a small minority, of the 
people in that Commonwealth are of the high general intelligence ; 
that a large majority or a small majority, or a large minority or 
only a small minority, are of medium intelligence; and that a large 
majority or a small majority, or a large minority or a small minor- 
ity, are of low intelligence. Obviously, when I have completed this 
process I have subjected my vague general impression that the peo- 
ple of the United States as a whole are of high, medium, or low gen- 
eral intelligence to a certain correction and measure. I count up 
the entries in my columns. I discover that I have made, let us 
say, nine entries indicating that a large majority of the people in 
each of nine States are of high intelligence. I find that I have 
made, let us say, eighteen entries indicating that in each of eight- 


een States a small majority of tlie people are of low general in- 
telligence; and this mere counting of the entries may show me 
that, when taking the States one by one, I have made a somewhat 
different estimate of the general intelligence of the people of the 
entire country from that which I made when looking at all the 
people of the country as an undivided mass. 

If still unsatisfied with my judgment, I may proceed to sub- 
divide each State into its counties, and take the counties as enu- 
meration units. I may go through the process of recording my 
judgments by entering symbols in the several columns of my table, 
and at the end I may again count up my totals of high, medium, 
and low intelligence. Obviously, I can do this work only if I am 
able to travel through every county in the United States, and, by in- 
terviews with people, by forming general impressions and by vis- 
iting schools, get a fairly definite idea of the relative intelligence 
of each civil division; or if, being unable to make this personal 
inquiry, I resort to printed information — namely, educational re- 
ports, miscellaneous public documents, historical records, newspa- 
pers, and other objective data throwing light upon the intellectual 
status of these various divisions. This, I find, is an enormous 
labor; but if I conscientiously perform it I correct my subjective 
impressions, and there is a fair presumption that my final result 
is a judgTuent vastly nearer the truth than was my first general 
impression of the intelligence of the whole undivided mass of the 
American population. 

Thus the conscientious use of the method which I have sug- 
gested insures, in the interest of precision, two important modi- 
fications of ordinary sociological description: First, it subjects the 
purely subjective processes of judgment to a certain correction and 
measurement; secondly, it leads the observer step by step, and 
almost unconsciously, to resort more and more to definite objec- 
tive data in place of first impressions. 

Essentially the same method, by slight modifications of detail, 
may be extended to historical inquiries. How often do we en- 
counter in historical monographs the statement that, since a cer- 
tain date, there has been a marked increase of this or that activity, 
or that such a trait or such a habit, occasionally observed half a 
century ago, is now characteristic of whole sections or popula- 
tions! To the credit of the historians, it must be said that careful 
men seldom make such statements without offering in substantia- 
tion of them a certain amount of objective evidence. But the 
method is loose, and it has the radical defect of permitting such 
terms as " increase " and " decrease," " great increase " and " great 
decrease " to stand for different quantities when applied to differ- 


ent phenomena under examination in the same treatise. There 
is no uniformity of measurement. !Now, it is easy to introduce 
uniformity, even where arithmetical values are not kno\vn. It is 
possible to know that we are applying the same method of meas- 
urement when we say that, since 1850, there has been a " great " 
multiplication of lynchings in the United States that we apply when 
we say that there has been a " great " increase of population, al- 
though, in the case of the lynchings, we have not arithmetical 
values, while in the case of the increase of population we have. 

This can be done in the following way: Distinguish and des- 
ignate degrees of increase or decrease by symbols thus: Ko change, 
= 0; absolute increase but relative decrease, = + 1; absolute in- 
crease with no relative decrease, = + 2 ; great absolute increase 
without relative decrease, = + 3; absolute and relative increase, 
= + 4; absolute decrease but relative increase, =^—1; absolute 
decrease without relative increase, = — 2 ; great absolute decrease 
without relative increase, = — 3; absolute and relative decrease, 
= -4. 

ISTow let the historian who wishes to pass in review the quanti- 
tative changes that have occurred since a given time — for exam- 
ple, 1850 — before he puts on paper his impressions, based upon 
such evidence as he has been able to collate, put down all these 
s;yTnbols against the name of each of the social phenomena which 
he is studying. He will instantly see that he is trying to apply 
to each of the phenomena whose changes he wishes to record a 
certain scale of measurement, and he at once asks himself: What 
do I really mean by such a term as " relative " increase or decrease 
when contrasted with " absolute " increase or decrease; and what 
do I mean by such a term as " great " increase or decrease when 
contrasted with such a term as " increase " or " decrease " without 
a modifying word? The moment he puts these questions before 
his mind he will feel a sinking of heart as he reviews the pages 
in which he has confidently told his readers that such " absolute " 
and " relative " changes have from time to time occurred, and re- 
flects that he has seldom been consistent in his use of these terms. 

How, then, shall he attain consistency and precision? To be 
consistent and precise in the use of the word " relative " it is 
necessary to make at the outset an arbitrary choice of a term of 
comparison, just as in making comparative judgments of such a 
phenomenon as general intelligence it is necessary to take as a 
standard the phenomenon as observed in a particular community. 
The most suitable term of comparison for all judgments of increase 
or decrease in social phenomena is the increase or decrease of popu- 
lation per square mile within the 'area and during the period stud- 


icd. The increase of population is aritlimetically measured, and 
it stands in relations of direct causation to every social change. 
The historian, therefore, in forming his judgments of relative in- 
crease or decrease should always take the increase or decrease of 
population per square mile as his term of comparison. 

What meaning, finally, shall be attached to the word " great " 
■when the historian wishes to distinguish " great " increase or 
" great " decrease from " increase " or " decrease " in general, and 
absolute statistics are not available? There is one, and, as far as 
I can see, only one, perfectly satisfactory procedure. 

Let the investigator subdivide the community which he is study- 
ing into enumeration units according to the method suggested 
above for the descriptive monograph. Let him then make as 
many tables as there are ten-year periods in the general historical 
period that he is investigating. That is to say, let him make a 
table for 1850, for 18G0, for 1870, for 1880, and for 1890. Let 
him then proceed according to the method laid down for the descrip- 
tive monograph, entering opposite each Commonwealth the symbol 
for majority or minority, thus showing by States, for each of the 
ten-year periods, the prevalence of the trait or activity under in- 
vestigation. Suppose, for example, that the phenomenon studied 
is the growth of popular interest in prize fighting since 1850. The 
historian shoiild begin by asking. In what States, if any, in 1850 
were large majorities of the people interested in prize fights to 
the extent of countenancing them and eagerly following their 
progress? In what States w-ere only small majorities so inter- 
ested, in what States only large minorities, and in what ones 
only small minorities? The best answers that the historian can 
make to these questions, after examining all the evidence that he 
can command, he should record by entering the proper symbol 
against each State, after which he should repeat the procedure 
for the date 1860, for the date 1870, and so on. When his tables 
are thus completed, he should count up the number of entries of 
each symbol in each table. If then he finds that in less than half 
of his enumeration units — i. e., in less than half of all the States 
and Territories — small minorities have become large minorities, 
large minorities have become small majorities, or small majorities 
have become large, he will be justified in concluding that there 
has been an increase, but not a "great" increase, in popular in- 
terest in prize fighting. If, how^ever, he discovers that these 
changes have occurred in more than half of his enumeration units, 
he can say with reason that the increase of interoBt in prize fight- 
ing has been " great." 

Cases may arise in which a correction of the judgment thus 


formed maj be necessary. It might be erroneous to say that 
there had been no great increase of interest in prize fighting if it 
were discovered that the increase had occurred in two or three 
Commonwealths only, but that in them it had been phenomenal. 
The method itself, however, reveals the necessity for correction 
in such eases and measures the error; for, obviously, a phenomenal 
increase or decrease in any one enumeration unit would be dis- 
closed by a dropping of the intermediate symbols between © and 
-ff-. That is to say, small minorities would become majorities, or 
great majorities would become small minorities, within an inter- 
val during which lesser changes were occurring elsewhere. 

Thus, by taking a little trouble, the historian can apply one 
constant measure to his judgments of increase and decrease, as he 
reviews social changes. He must subdivide his community into 
enumeration units, and against each unit, at each convenient date, 
he must enter a record of his judgment that the trait, activity, 
interest, or relation imder investigation can be predicated of a large 
or of only a small majority, of a large or of only a small minority, 
of the individuals composing the enumeration unit. He must 
then count up the changes from minority to greater minority or 
to majority, or from majority to minority. Conscientiously fol- 
lowing this method, the historian ;nay often make comparisons of 
great precision, when otherwise his comparisons, made without ref- 
erence to a common measure, would be little more than suppo- 

Following such methods as these, the writers of descriptive and 
historical monographs can increase our approximately exact socio- 
logical knowledge. Constructing and filling out such tables as 
have been described, they can bring to light serious gaps in our 
numerical statistics, and they can thereby suggest and stimulate 
new statistical inquiries. Thus co-operating, the descriptive writ- 
ers, the historians, and the statisticians can in time perfect our 
descriptive sociology, and, co-operating with those students who are 
completing the analysis of fundamental concepts, they can gradu- 
ally give precision to our formulations of sociological law. 

Bishop Creighton, o£ London, has characterized the present English 
idea of education as embodying the supposition that " all the child had to do 
was to sit still like a pitcher under a pump while an expert hand poured 
in the proper amount of material for it to hold." His own view was that 
the only education anybody really obtained was that which he gave him- 
self. " The idea prevailing at the beginning of the century was that men 
should read a good book, master its contents, and pursue for themselves the 
lines of thought it suggested, and talk it over and make its ideas the sub- 
ject of discussion among themselves. tNo system could surelj' be better." 






TTTE evidences tliat aSTorthmen were in Massachusetts in pre- 
Columbian days are drawn from two sources, geography and 
archaeology. The archaeological evidence is found by comparing 
certain ruins in Massachusetts with ruins of the Saga-time in Ice- 
land, and also with the native and early European ruins on the 
coast of I^orth America. The geographical evidence is found by 

' m.4im , mA iQ ^ ^f iai:iL-^i^'<: ^y. ftt 


rV ,. "'■ --» ,> 

Vvilr-l-O'-.'ff ",^7,^ 


■^»..H.'-..-;,,i.-. -«. -■■">;..■ ■•■..,.-\-"---v--.. - 

Plan of the House of Eric the Red in Iceland. 

comparing the descriptions of the country called Yinland in Ice- 
landic literature with the coast of ISTorth America. 

The geographical data for this paper are taken from each and 
all of the three oldest manuscript versions of the story of Vinland, 
because they complement each other where the descriptions vary 
in detail. These are called the Flat Island Book, Eric the Ked's 
Saga, and Thorfinn Karlsefni's Saga. 

If the coast of ISTorth America should repeat the same geo- 
graphical features, it would obviously be impossible to determine 
the site of Yinland by geography alone. Let us see if this is so. 
It is stated in Eric the Red's Saga that Karlsefni's party, which 

* A paper read before the Viking Club of London on December 16, 1898 ; also before 
the Section of Anthropology of the American Association for the Advancement of Science 
at the Boston meeting, August, 1898. 


consisted of one hundred and sixty men and their live stock in 
three vessels, after sailing southwest from Greenland for a number 
of days and seeing two new countries, came to a certain cape. 
" They cruised along the land and the land lay on the starboard. . . . 
There were there an open, harborless coast and long strands and 

An Indian Fireplace in Massachusetts!. 

sand banks. And they went in boats to the land and found there 
the keel of a ship, and they named it Keel Cape. And they gave 
a name to the strands and called them Wonder Strands, because 
they were long to sail by. Then the land became scored with bays, 
and they steered the ships to the bays." * They remained here for 
some time, but they had not yet seen the Vinland which Leif Erik- 
son had found a few years before. 

Thorhall started to seek for it " northward round Wonder- 
strand and westward off Keel Cape." Therefore we must first 
look for a cape, the trend of whose shore is north and south, with 
open water west of it, and beyond that again land. This cape must 
have a long, sandy, harborless coast, with sand banks on the east, 
and it must be broken up into bays farther to the south, and one 
of these bays must be large enough and deep enough for three 
vessels, one of which could carry at least fifty men across the 
Atlantic. The icelandic word " oroefi " which is used in this text 
means " harborless," and is the descriptive local name of the con- 
vex, sandy, unsheltered coast of southern Iceland (Oroefa), the 
present Skaptafells district, from Stokksnes to Dyrholaey, This 
gives a clear idea of wdiat we ought to look for along the coast 
of Xorth America. 

The eastern coast of Xorth America f shows us that, south of 
rock-bound Labrador, the only places north of New York where 

* The translations are from the Icelandic texts in The Finding of Wineland the Good 
by Arthur Middleton Reeves. Henry Frowde, London. 

t Chart of North Atlantic, No. 98. -Norie & Wilson, London. 
VOL LVI. — 13 


capes are to be found jutting northward from the land are north- 
ern Newfoundland, Cape Breton Island, the southern shores of 
the Gulf of St. Lawrence, Cape Ann, and Cape Cod. 

There is no stretch of open, harborless, sandy coast from 
Cape Bauld to Cape Spear, with its steep, sterile, rocky shores.* 
There are two or three stretches of unbroken coast from three 

Icelandic Fireplace in supposed Norse Euin in MAPSAciirsETTsf. 

to five miles long, north and south of Canada Bay, northwest of 
Conception Bay, and northeast of Bonavista Bay, but these are 
not the shores of capes jutting to the north, with long strands and 
sand banks. 

If we begin with Cape Breton and follow the coast northward 
we find no extensive stretch of harborless coast until we reach 
Island Point. From this point to Cape Smoke there is a compara- 
tively unbroken coast about thirty miles in extent whose " head- 
lands are composed of primary and metamorphic rocks, princi- 
pally granite, with clay slate in nearly vertical strata, while sand- 
stone, conglomerate, shale, limestone, and occasionally beds of 
gypsum and red and yellow marl occur on the intervening shores." f 
Here, then, there are not long strands and sand banks. Cape North 
is a headland of slate one thousand feet high.ij: Dr. Gustav Storm, 
of the University of Christiania, in his well-known book, Studier 
over Yinlandsreiserne, etc., page 42, points out a resemblance be- 
tween Cape Breton and Keel Cape, and states that the eastern 
shores of Cape Breton Island are " specially described as low-lying 
and sandy." According to the United States Hydrographic Office 
Report, No. 99, page 289, the southeast coast of Cape Breton 
Island from Michaux Point to Cape Gabarus "is low and has a 
barren and rocky appearance, and the shore is broken into numer- 
ous lakes and ponds, protected from the sea by beaches of gravel 
and some small rocky islands and ledges. . . . Prom Cape Ga- 
barus to Cape Breton, a distance of fifteen miles, the land is of 
moderate height and the shore broken into coves and small har- 
bors." Between Louisburg and Cape Breton, eight miles be- 

* Belle Isle to Boston, No. lO'l. Noiie iV Wilson, London. 

t United States Ilydrograpliic Office Report, No. 99, 1897, p. ^15. \ Und., p. 814. 



yond, '' there are three small harbors, too intricate and rocky in 
their entrances to admit vessels of any burden," and Cape Breton 
itself is " low and rocky and covered with grassy moors." This is 
unlike the open, harborless coast with long strands and sand banks 
of the Sagas. Within the Gulf of St. Lawrence the capes which 
jut to the north are Cape St. George,* with rocky, precipitous 
cliffs six hundred feet above the sea; North Point,f on Prince Ed- 
ward Island, which is broken about five miles down the coast by 
Tignish River, and beyond that by the red sandstone cliff of Cape 
Kildare; Escuminiac Point,:]: at the entrance to Miramichi Bay, 
a broken coast with low sandstone cliffs; and Birch Point,* on 
Miscou Island, with a steep cliff of sandstone ten feet high. 

Campobello is a rocky island, and Cape Ann is rocky and has 
no long, harborless coast. 

Cape Cod || juts to the north with open water west of it, and 
beyond that again land. It has also a long, harborless coast on 
the east, with strands and sand banks, and is scored with bays 
toward the south. 

Cape Cod, then, is the only cape north of Sandy Hook which 
corresponds to the description in the Saga, and near here we should 
look for Vinland, leaving the southern shores until later. 

Vinland, which was discovered by Leif Erikson, is only de- 
scribed as Vinland in the Flat Island Book. This account states 

10 Meters 

Plan of supposed Norse Ruin in Massachusetts. 

that Leif Erikson's party " came to a certain island which lay north 
of the land." That Leif Erikson should have thought that Cape 
Cod was an island is obvious, because it is impossible from the cape 
to see the southern shore of Massachusetts Bay twenty miles away. 

* United States Hydrographic Office Report, No. 100, 1897, p. 70. 

f Ibid., pp. 130, 152, X Ibid.; p. 157. * Ibid., p. 173. 

II United States Coast and Geodetic Survey, General Chart of the Coast, No. VII. 



There is no need to explain why lie also believed it to lie north of 
the land, as no one and final answer can be given, although sev- 
eral can be easily suggested; that water and land again lay to the 
west is clearly stated in all three accounts. 

Afterward " they sailed into that sound which lay between the 
island and the promontory which jutted northward from the land; 
they steered in westward past the promontory. There was much 

EIast Wall of a supposed Noksf, Rrix ix Massaciu'sett.s, showinu Laveks ok Tiuf 


shallow water at ebb tide, and then their ship stood up and then 
it was far to look to the sea from their ship." Across the water 
which lies between Cape Cod and the mainland is Rocky Point, 
a high and therefore noticeable promontory jutting northward 
from the land. Past this one can only continue westering to the 
north, and thence we must now look along the land to find the 
plare where, in the words of the Flat Island Book, " a certain 
river flowed out of a certain lake," having, as was said before. 



great shallows at its mouth at ebb tide, whence it was far to look 
to the ocean. 

Following round the inner coast of Cape Cod, we pass Plymouth 
and on to Boston before we find in the Charles River and Boston 
Back Bay a river flowing through a lake into the sea, where great 
shallows at its mouth are a conspicuous feature and it is far to 
look to the ocean. 

West Wall of a supposed Norse Riix in Massachusetts, showing Layeus 


iV TuUF 

At this point we may add one more feature to the description 
of Keel Cape — that it appears to be an island when approached 
from the north. ]^ow we can continue our search down the ^NTortli 
Atlantic coast, noting that Sandy Hook is not scored with bays at 
the south, and that Cape Henlopen and Cape Henry could not 
have been mistaken for islands.* 

* Chart of North Atlantic, No. 98. Norie & Wilson, London. 


There is one event described in all three versions of the Vinland 
story — the battle with the natives. According to the Flat Island 
Book, this battle took place in Vinland; according to the other 
two Sagas, Vinland was supposed to be north of Keel Cape. But 
in these Sagas it is said that this battle took place south of Keel 
Cape, where Karsefni had found a river flowing througli a lake 
into the sea. 

It was this word south which led the Danish archaeologist Carl 
Christian Rafn to think that Vinland was in Rhode Island. Al- 
though there is no land south of Cape Cod (with the exception of 
Nantucket Island) between Cape Cod and Santo Domingo, it is only 
fair to look once more at Mount Hope Bay * (Rafn's Vinland) to 
see whether it really corresponds to the description before us. The 
Taunton River flows through Mount Hope Bay to the sea, but there 
are no shallows here, and the mouth of the river looks directly out, 
southward and not eastward, to the open ocean. In Boston Harbor, 
m.oreover, are great tongues of land and islands such as are de- 
scribed in Eric the Red's Saga. There is perhaps cause for com- 
ment in the use of the word " f joll," fells or mountains (accord- 
ing to Vigfusson f ), applied to the hills about Boston, of which 
the highest, " Blue Hill," is seven hundred and ten feet high. If 
" fells " is a correct translation, it would be unobjectionable. 

One morning Karlsefni saw the natives in their skin boats row- 
ing toward his house, from the south, past a promontory. It is 
not difficult to find the only promontory past which canoes could 
have come from the south between the mouth of the river and 
Watertown, the head of navigation. Here, then, Leif Erikson and 
Thorfinn Karlsefni should have built their houses, if this history 
be true, because this place corresponds with the description of 
Vinland, and also because Ave can find no o\\\vy j)hic(:' on the coast 
like it. 

Having found what appears to be the site of Thorfinn Karl- 
sefni's houses, it is well to inquire next what the characteristic 
features of the Norse houses of the Saga-time were, and what traces 
one might hope to find after nearly nine hundred years. 

Icelandic homesteads of that period usually consisted of a main 
house, composed of three or four apartments and one or two out- 
houses, built on the surface of the ground. 

The walls were one and a half metres thick, and from one to 
one and a half metres high, built of alternate layers of turf and 
stones on the inside and on the (uitside, the space between being 

* United States Coast anrl Geodetic Survey Chart, No. 1.*!. Cuttyhunk to Block Island. 

f Icelandic- Kntrlisli Dictionaiv. !{. ("Icashy. Knlarjicd and coiiiplctcil hy (Jiidlirand 



filJed ill with earth. Often, however, the walls w^ere built entirely 
of turf and earth, or with only disconnected rows of stones at the 
base. Wood also was sometimes used. It is stated in Thorfinu 
Karlsefni's Saga that some of the trees in Vinland were " so large 
they w^ere laid in a house." 

A long, narrow fireplace usually extended through the middle 
of the principal room, and an essential feature was the cooking 
fireplace, which was about one metre square. These were either 
paved or surrounded by upright stones. The plan is of the ruin 
of the house of Eric the Red in Haukadalr, Iceland. It shows the 
different forms of fireplace, and that the walls, which were built of 

Ancikxt Wall in Iiklanh, sikiwing Layers of Tiff between the Si' 

turf, were one and a half metres thick. Outhouses w^ere often 
dug into the hillside, and were sometimes walled up on the inside 
with stone and turf. Ruins of such old settlements in Iceland are 
usually low, grass-grown ridges and hollow^s. 

When Professor Horsford first visited the site which his study 
of maps and literature had led him to believe was Vinland, he 
found a few hollows in the hillside and also some broad, low" ridges 
on the level ground, indicating that a building about twenty metres 
long by five metres broad had once stood there. There was also 
a mound some distance away which has since proved to be of mod- 
ern construction. 



No digging was done liere until after Professor Ilorsford's 
death, with the exception of a few trenches across the supposed 
site of Leif Erikson's house on the other side of the creek. In 
1896, during a visit of Dr. Yaltyr Gudmundsson and Mr. Thor- 
steinn Erlingsson, of Copenhagen and Iceland, extensive exca- 
vations were made, leaving practically nothing unexamined at 
this site. 

Three kinds of earth were revealed. The upper layer was 
of black loam from thirty to forty centimetres deep; below this 
was a yellow soil of sand and clay thirty centimetres deep; and 
below that again the sand and gravel which had remained undis- 
turbed since the close of the Glacial epoch. 

The ruins were at the junction of the black and yellow earth. 
Throughout the black loam to the bottom, wherever we dug, within 
or away from the ruins, w^ere scattered fragments of china, glass, 
glazed pottery, nails, pipestems, broken bricks, etc., all belonging 
to the period of the occupation of this region by the English. 
Xone of these \vere found in places where their presence would 
show^ that they belonged to or preceded these ruins. In the paved 
pathway, which will be descril)ed later, a few pieces of brick lie 
.—^ between the stones, 

H^" T*' -. .»ejm.*' ^IjKff • ■^'^■^■•'"•■^■" but not deeper than 
* ''* "'" " ' similar fragments of 

brick were found in 
the undisturbed earth 
near 1)V, apparently 
trodden in by the cat- 
tle w^hich have been 
pastui'ed there for 
years. There were 
also objects of abo- 
riginal manufacture, 
such as stone imple- 
ments, pottery, pieces 
of flint, etc. Occa- 
sionally, at different levels, remains of fires were found, some of 
which were merely thin layers of charcoal and ashes. There were, 
however, two well-built fireplaces, in good condition, entirely un- 
like each other. One of these was an Indian clambake, neatly 
paved and piled wath ashes and unoi^ened clam shells. This lay 
sixty-three centimetres below the sod. The photogi'aph is not of 
this fireplace, but is a good exam])lo of all Indian firo])laces or clam- 
bakes in Massachusetts. 

The second fii-('])lace, which was about one metre square, sur- 

Old Wall in a ("ellak in F 

HI William ]Iknhy, Maine. 



Old Wall at Wiv.i \\ ili.ia.m 11i,m;i 

rounded by upright stones at the four corners and filled with oak 
charcoal, but no ashes, was the distinctive feature of this ruin, 
and resembled the cooking fireplaces of the Icelanders, The 
absence of ashes has been accounted for by absorption in the 
soft clay soil. Ashes 
often disappear in 
this way, but can be 
detected with acids. 
Although the out- 
line of the walls of 
the long house can 
only be suggested, 
the few stones which 
were found at the 
base of the old walls 
were placed about a 
metre and a half 
apart, as in the walls of the Saga-time. This, so far as is known, 
is peculiar to that period and race. Iroquois long houses were 
constructed for communal use, and were usually from one hun- 
dred to three hundred feet long. The chief traces left are fire 
rows and kitchen middens. They are not known to have used 
stone foundations, nor to have made any attempt at regularity of 
outline. The drawing shows the method of construction of these 
long houses, which were built only by the Indians of the Iroquois 

Depressions which appeared to be the sites of old huts were 
in the hillside back of the terrace on which the long house stood, 
but the roadway in front had apparently destroyed all but one of 
these, and had also carried away the front wall of this. 

This hut was four metres across the front, and may have been 
five metres deep. When the sod, stones, and the clearings, which 
had been thrown in from the cultivated field above, were all re- 
moved, the remains of two side walls were found, supported and 
protected by the upper portions of these same walls which had 
slipped down from above and lay close to them, forming a com- 
pact mass of earth and stones. None of the stones in this wall were 
in contact with each other, being separated by two or three inches 
of dark earth such as results from the decay of vegetable matter. 
There was no fireplace. The manner of constructing these walls 
was the counterpart of Icelandic work. I shall now show you how 
this differs from post-Columbian cellars. 

This is a photograph of a ruin in the Thjor's River Valley, in 
Iceland. It shows the sod between the stones closely packed but 



distinct. The stones in uur early English and French cellars prac- 
tically touch each other, as in the old cellar in Fort William Henry, 
in Maine. Sometimes broken stones fill the interstices, as in an- 
other example of stonework at Fort AVilliam Henry. Mortar has 
been used here more or less since the beginning of the seventeenth 

Although European or post-Columbian walls and cellars differ 
considerably among themselves, it is within certain limits. Post- 



I :-.v""lj->,- ',;■C?■•' 

?-<■.:,'■*'-) : :~-f^i:rr 

' ■■>•-"'* 

Supposed Norse Pathway in Massachusetts. 

Columbian wnlU. <.r t'()iiii(hiti(^ii walls when built on the surface 
of the ground, were practically homogeneous in character, the 
French only attaining to one metre in thickness, whereas Icelandic 
walls were disposed in three distinct parts, the inner and outer 
sides being constructed in layers and the space between being filled 
in with closely packed earth, while they were never less than a 
metre and a half thick. 



Southern Turn of si-pposed Norse Pathway. 




Icelandic outhouses when dug into a hillside dispensed with 
the triple wall at the back and on the sides, and thus when stone- 
faced partially resemble our cellars. But even then they still 

retain one character- 
istic feature, in their 
alternate layers of 
turf and stone. 

Wliile this hut 
was being dug out, 
our attention was 
called to stones pro- 
truding through the 
turf a short distance 
away and nearer to 
the water. When the 
earth was cleared 
away, it proved to 

^V I'avkmknt at Fi>i:t William IIlnjiv, Mainl. -, i , i • j 

be a rude stone-laid 
pathway leading along the margin of the old creek to the river. 
Here at the landing place a similar pathway branched away in 
another direction, stopping suddenly a few metres south of the 
supposed house of Thorfinn Karlsefni. This pathway is called in 
Iceland a sjdvar-gata, or path to the sea. Ancient pavings have 
been found at Fort AVilliam Henry, near Pemaquid, Maine. They 
are, however, similar to many street pavements still to be found 
in our eastern cities. There is also a remarkable paved gutter 
at the Lewis Farm, 
in Maine, w^hich has 
long interested histo- 
rians. But none of 
these resemble the 
sjdvar-gata in its pe- 
culiar construction, 
especially where it 
broadens and divides 
w'ith a wide margin of 
pebbles on one side 
and small heaps of 
stones on the other. 

This map was 
made for Professor 
Horsford about ten years ago. It shows the site of the long house, 
in which the Joclandic firoj^lace was found, and the cot, in which 
Icelandic walls were found. The paved path ran along the shore 

A 1'aVKMENT at PHMAlilll), Maine. 



in front. Professor Horsford fixed Thorfinn's landing place a 
short distance south of this, on solid ground. Geologists are unable 
to say how long ago the salt marshes were formed. Thev are on 
Winthrop's map of 1634, but the sjdvar-gata could hardly have 
been accessible as a landing place after their formation. 

In summary, it may be said that at the only point of land on 
the coast of North America which we have found to correspond 
with the description of the site of Thorfinn Karlsefni's houses, 
ruins have been dug out which bear peculiar features character- 
istic of the period in Iceland known as the Saga-time, and differ- 

MaP of the supposed IS'oP.SE KriN IX CAMBRintiE. MassA( III ~KTrs. 

ing in certain essential features from the handiwork of all the 
native races of North America, and, as far as is known at present, 
from all other races in Europe or in America in post-Columbian 

Extracts from the Reports of Dr. Gudmundsson and Mr. Erlingsson. 

The following extracts, from reports by Dr. Gudmundsson and Mr. 
Erlingsson, refer to the ruins described in the preceding paper. The 
plan for these researches was first to compare the aforesaid ruins with 
the work of the native races supposed to have inhabited or vsited these 
shores, next with that of the Norsemen of the eleventh century, and 
later, if necessary, with the earliest English, French, Spanish, and Dutch 
ruins on these shores. Dr. Gudmundsson and Mr. Erlingsson noted the 


points of resemblance between these and Icelandic ruins, and in their 
reports by request wrote everything they could think of in opposition 
to, as well as in favor of, their being of Norse origin. 

When these gentlemen left Cambridge the characteristic features of 
the early post-Columbian ruins on this coast had not been ascertained, 
and these researches were not finished satisfactorily until a year and a 
half after the Icelanders returned to Europe. 

From Dr. Gudmundsson' s Report. 

The next place into which we dug was a depression or hollow in the 
hillside in a northerly direction from the above-mentioned place. Here 
we found unquestionable remains of a house which had been dug into 
the hillside, with walls constructed of stones, and layers of earth between 
the single rows of stones. The foundation and the lower parts of the 
two side walls were solid and well preserved, but the whole back wall, 
■with the exception of a single roM' (the foundation), had fallen down. 
The stones from this and the upper parts of the side walls covered the 
whole bottom, so that they at the first glance seemed to form a pave- 
ment. When carefully examined, it was evident, however, that most of 
the stones which covered the bottom belonged to the walls, though some 
might have rolled down from the hill above the house. Thus it could 
clearly be seen how some of the stones had fallen down from the walls 
and some were just sliding down, without having as yet reached to the 
bottom, as some stones underneath had hindered them from gliding far- 
ther. The front wall of the house was wanting, and must either have 
heen of wood or — which seems most likely — have been spoiled when the 
road which runs close past the house was made. When the bottom was 
cleared of the stones which had fallen in it proved to consist of a level 
black floor. 

The construction and situation of this house are quite Scandinavian, 
built in the same way as houses in Iceland and Greenland. I would 
therefore not have had the least hesitation to declare it to be a ruin of 
a house built by Scandinavians in the pre-Columbian period if between 
and under the stones which covered the bottom we had. not found some 
pieces of glazed pottery and bricks, of which some small pieces were 
found trodden down even into the floor itself. This seems to indicate 
that the house must be post-Columbian, or at least have been occupied 
by the first English or French colonists. As in the meantime several 
American scholars, with whom I have had an opportunity to discuss this 
matter, positively declare that the post-Columbian colonists never would 
have built such walls of stones without mortar, and it must be regarded 
as quite certain that Indian people could not have built it, there seems 
to be no other explanation possible than that this ruin must be Scandi- 
navian, and, having been found by some of the first post-Columbian colo- 
nists (e. g., some fishermen), had been repaired and occupied by them for a 
shorter or longer time. If it can be proved that such a building as this 
could not have been built by the post-Columbian colonists nor by Indians, 
it can hardly bo anything else than Scandinavian. This, however, must 
be left to American scholars, who have sufficient knowledge in these mat- 
ters. But so long as this is not proved, the pieces of pottery and bricks 
which were found in it rather seem to speak for its post-Columbian ori- 
gin, as those pieces must have been there when the house fell down, and 


such a house as this built in the beginning of the eleventh century could 
not have stood five hundred years before its roof and the upper parts of 
the walls fell down. 

On the other side of the road we found an end of an old path paved 
with small stones, running from the house in the hillside along the edge 
of the old river bank down to a kind of promontory which in olden time, 
when the water stood much higher than it now does, seems to have served 
as a landing place. In the middle of this path, which was from about 
six to ten inches under the surface, was a hollow as trodden down by the 
feet of men and (perhaps) horses. This path is very like Icelandic paths, 
such as may still be found in many places in Iceland. But as we in some 
places in this path found some bricks between the stones which formed 
its pavement, it must be regarded as doubtful whether it is Scandinavian. 
The bricks seem rather to speak for a post-Columbian origin, though 
the whole path is so primitive that it hardly can be suggested that so 
advanced a people as the first post-Columbian colonists should have made 
such a path. To settle the question whether it could belong to those 
colonists must be left to American scholars. This path seems, at any 
rate, to have been made by the same people who built the house in the 
hillside, so either both of them must be regarded as post-Columbian or 
they both are Scandinavian. Another path run^ from this landing place 
in a westerly direction along the old river bank, where it stops very 
abruptly on a certain spot a very short distance east of the supposed 
" Thorfinn's house." As I could not find any other reason for its stop- 
ping on this spot than that near it stood a building, I examined the river 
bank beside it, and here I found the earth, about eight inches under the 
surface, mixed with charcoal, which could indicate that some refuse from 
a house had been thrown there. This seems to lead to the conclusion 
that there at the end of this path really has stood a building, of which 
we could not now expect to find any traces, or even a building con- 
structed of turf only (turf walls), which also might have wholly disap- 
peared, as earth walls on an elevated ground like this perhaps might have 
blown away. 

The result of these researches is briefly, according to my opinion, this : 
As far as concerns the construction, both the house in the hillside and 
the two paths, or the two branches of the path, could be of Scandinavian 
origin, but I am not so well acquainted with the life and customs of 
the first post-Columbian colonists as to be able to decide whether they 
could not have been made by them. This, therefore, must be left to 
American scholars. Very respectfully yours, 

Valtyr Gudmundsson. 

Cambridoe, Mass., July 16, 1896. 

From Mr. Erlingsson's Report. 

It is not uncommon in Iceland that houses, especially small out- 
houses, are dug into small hills, hillsides, or sloping ground, just as this 
house is. It is, in fact, built very like what I have seen in outhouses in 
many places in Iceland, and what is left of the walls here nobody could 
distinguish from Icelandic walls. The size and the whole form is also 
very like an outhouse, but as most frequently in outhouses either all the 
four walls are made of stones or none of them, it would seem strange 
that one of the walls here is completely wanting. But those stones which 


were used in it could have been used in the road which has been made 
past the house, or, besides, it is possible that the front wall of the house 
has been a wooden one, and, although this is very rare in outhouses cer- 
tainly, yet it must be taken into consideration that here it is much 
easier to procure wood than in Iceland. The whole form, the method, 
and the condition of the house itself seemed like nothing else than that 
it was built by Icelandic hands, although some of the stones seem to be 
rather small, but, as pieces of pottery and bricks have been found beneath 
the stones which had fallen down from the walls and on the floor itself, 
it seems to prove sufficiently that the house can not belong to the old 
Icelandic period; but as nobody has expected such a house here, the dis- 
covery is very remarkable. 

This path is so like paths in Iceland, for which there have been gath- 
ered stones and which later on have been trodden down by the feet of 
horses and men, that I would not have hesitated to declare that it might 
be Scandinavian if in it there had not been found bricks beside the other 
stones, which seems to indicate that the path must belong to the same 
period as the house which was dug into the hill. This discovery must 
therefore, too, be regarded as very remarkable. . . . 


Thorsteinn Erlingsson. 

Cambridge, Mass., July 12, 1896. 




THE meeting of the Astral Club of Alcalde, on September 10, 
1899, was rendered memorable by the return, from a month's 
absence in the East, of the secretary of the club, Miss Corintha 
Jones, D. jST. N. N. Her presence had been sorely missed at the 
August meeting (though I say it who should not), for it is not 
often that one of our devoted band is absent from his post. 

Miss Jones had left Alcalde to conij)lete a course of study in 
medicine in one of the most famous colleges of the East. At the 
suggestion of the president of the club, Mr. Asa Marvin, F. T. S., 
the usual programme was suspended on her return, and Miss Doc- 
tress Jones, D. N. N. N. (for such indeed is the title she has now 
earned), told us of her studies at the Massachusetts University of 
Mentiphysics, in Boston, a noble institution, up to date in all re- 
spects, for it received its charter from the General Assembly of 
Massachusetts in the year 1881. 

Miss Doctress Jones left her home in Alcalde on the 20th of 
July, designing to visit certain relatives residing at Homer and 
Virgil, Cortland County, JST. Y., on the way. She reached Boston 
on the 5th day of August, and at once proceeded to the university. 


An ignorant hackman took her over to the suburban village of Cam- 
bridge, which is the seat of Harvard College. Making inquiry of 
the professors there, she found none who had ever heard of the 
University of Mentiphysics, having eyes and ears for nothing but 
Harvard, which in some respects is indeed a great institution, but 
on a material plane. 

At last, after much inquiry, Doctress Jones was sent to the 
IsTeministic Headquarters, a small building on the corner of Milk 
and Transcendental Streets. Here she learned, from a little lady 
with a withered face and a serene smile, that the University of 
Mentiphysics was situated not in Boston, but in the neighboring 
town of Lynn, which lies some miles to the north. " But in Massa- 
chusetts," she said, " we call it all Boston." 

" So I took the train for Lynn," Miss Doctress Jones continued, 
" and drove at once to the street and number named on the card. 
The little white house with green blinds, white columns on the 
veranda, and a few weedy roses in the front yard did not fill my 
conception of a university, for it did not look like our universities 
in California. But the fault was with my conception, not with 
the fact. 

"" The maid who answered the bell assured me that this was 
indeed the university, and ushered me at once into the office of the 
president. The wall was covered with pictures and photographs, 
showing elderly ladies with serene smiling faces. Under each one 
were the letters ]Si . N. IST., and a card giving an account of how each 
one had been made whole and happy through Neministic Science. 
The president was a middle-aged, matronly lady, with a high fore- 
head and brown hair, streaked with gray, done in graceful frizzes 
over her brow. Above the corners of her mouth, which were al- 
ways drawn up in an engaging smile, were three deep creases. Mr. 
Gridley, our schoolmaster, tells me that these correspond to the 
grave accent in Greek, and that there being three of them shows 
that the lady had been married three times. I do not know as to 
this, but somehow her face seemed startlingly familiar and at the 
same time strangely pleasant. 

" I murmured something about having had the pleasure before. 
She said, taking the words from my mouth: ' I know what you are 
going to say. We are indeed very much alike, though she is on 
the material plane. Still, my friends call me the " Lydia Pink- 
ham of the soul," and I do not resent it, for what dear Lydia tries 
to do, that I do.' 

"I told the president," Doctress Jones continued, " that I wished 
to learn the wisdom of Boston, and especially the science of ISTemi- 
nistic Healing, of which I had heard much in Alcalde. ' But per- 

TOL. LVI. — 14 


liaps I should call at tlic university, and not trouble you in your rest 
at home.' At this her eyes blazed, and she said, with a tragic air: 
' Ifaving eyes, ye see not! I read the Soul and the Stars through 
a higher than mortal sense. Has the Sun forgotten to shine and 
the Planets to revolve around it? Who was it discovered, demon- 
strated, and teaches the marvel of feministic Healing? That one, 
whoever it be, does understand something of what can not be lost.' 

" I looked dazed. She quieted down and explained to me that 
she was herself the university, because no one but herself could 
explain what was revealed to her alone. The whole Neministic 
Science was taught in twelve lessons, and I could begin then and 

" I said something about preparatory work and the books I 
would need to read. She placed in my hands a slip which read: 

" ' X. E". N^. Persons contemplating a course in the Massachu- 
setts University of Mentiphysics can prepare for it through no 
books save Neministic Science and Astral Health, with a Key to the 
Stars. Man-made theories are narrow, else extravagant, and al- 
ways materialistic. Nihil neniini nocet.' Then she added: 'I 
recommend students not to read so-called scientific works antagonis- 
tic to IsTeministic Healing, which advocate material systems, be- 
cause such works and words becloud the right sense of Mentiphysi- 
cal Science. A primary student richly imbued with the Neministic 
spirit is a better healer and teacher than a normal-class student, 
who partakes less of this power. Even an apt scholar who has 
dipped into my feministic Science and Astral Health, with a Key 
to the Stars (the last revised edition), may enter this field of labor, 
without any personal instruction, beneficially to himself and the 

"Then she continued blandly: 'You must learn, my dear, to 
enter this great field in a manner beneficial to yourself and the 
race. You must teach others to render to Csesar what is Csesar's, 
and to do this you must first render unto Caesar yourself. Do 
you understand?' I looked puzzled for a moment. Then she 
said : ' Twenty-five dollars, please, dear, and be sure to come 
promptly at ten o'clock to-morrow. You are now admitted to the 
Primary Plane, the first degree of ISTeministic Healing.' As I gave 
her the California gold, she bowed me out of the room with a ten- 
der and motherly smile, while she tested the unfamiliar coins by 
ringing them softly on the table. 

" At the second lesson she gave me the fundamental principles 
of feministic Healing. I received them eagerly, for I recognized 
in them a close harmony with the teachings of our dear old Mr. 


"'God is the principle of Mentipliysics. As there is but one 
God, there can be but one Principle in this Science. As there are 
many stars, there mnst be many fixed rules for the demonstration 
of this Divine Principle. 

'' ' The fundamental propositions among these rules are proved 
by inversion, for this is the basis of all true mathematics. Two 
times two is four, therefore four is two times two. As a star is 
the same whether seen from the north, south, east, or west, so a 
precept of Mentipliysics must be the same as seen from every side. 
To invert is not to change its meaning, and must prove its truth.' 
Then she gave me a printed card containing these words, over 
which I was to ponder until the next lesson: 

" ' IvT. ]Sr. IST. There is no Pain in Truth, therefore there is no 
Truth in Pain. There is no Xerve in Mind, therefore there is no 
Mind in IS^erve. There is no Matter in Mind, therefore there is 
no Mind in Matter. There is no Matter in Life, therefore there 
is no Life in Matter. There is no Matter in Good, therefore there 
is no Good in Matter. Nihil nocet nemiiii; nihil nemini nocet.^ 

" ' Twenty-five dollars, please,' and I returned to my hotel filled 
with new thoughts, which I found later were very incomplete. 

" The next day she said : 

" ' Man, my dear, is governed by Soul, not sense. Sense is the 
reflection, of matter, and matter does not exist. Thus sense is but 
the shadow of a dream. In dreams the laws of health are value- 
less. There is but one Law of Health, and that is the one precept 
of Keministic Healing. 

" ' To the awakened mind the seasons will come and go, with 
changes of time and tide, cold and heat, latitude and longitude. 
The agriculturist finds that these changes can not affect his crops. 
The mariner will have dominion over the atmosphere and the great 
deep, over the fish of the sea and the fowls of the air. The as- 
tronomer will no longer look up to the stars. He will look out 
from them upon the universe, and the florist will find his fiower 
before he beholds its seed. Thus matter will be finally proved to 
be nothing but a mortal belief, wholly inadequate to affect man 
through its supposed organic action or existence.' 

"Then she gave me another mystic card, which read: 

" ' X. IST. X. We tread on forces. Withdraw them, and Cre- 
ation must collapse. Nihil nocet nemini.' And this time I did 
not need to be reminded of the final ceremony with which the les- 
son ended. Nor did she need to clink the coins on the table. 

" In the fourth lesson the president discoursed more fully on 
' the popular gods, Sin, Sorrow, and Sickness, the three S's of 
Satan; all three illusions of the Sinful Soul. The very word Illu- 


sion proves tlieir nothingness. These are but troubled dreams of 
the darkened soul, and to rise above them is to wake from a cata- 
leptic nightmare to see the stars shining on the hills. 

" ' "When troubled by a horrible dream, my dear, one has only 
to say, "This is a Dream; I will awaken." Then the stars will 
shine through the open window and the hideous vision will dis- 

" ' So in afflictions of disease and dread and death, one must 
say, " This is a Dream." Then it becomes a dream, and we rise 
above it into an atmosphere of Perfect Serenity. 

"'To the material sense, dear,' continued the president, 'to 
cut the jugular vein takes away life. But in ISTeministic Science 
Life goes on unchanged, mounting ever and ever to higher reaches, 
because there is no jugular vein, and Matter can not make its mark 
on Mind. 

" ' The Barometer, that little prophet of storm and sunshine, 
can not be deceived by testimony of the senses. It points to fair 
weather in the midst of the unreal apparition of murky clouds and 
threatening rain. Thus does feministic Science, the perfect cul- 
mination of Mentiphysics, point to the changeless Health and Hap- 
piness of the Enlightened Man whatever material science may have 
to say about the condition of his members. Man is made in the 
image of perfection, therefore failure and imperfection can never 
assail him. As well expect to gather peaches from a pine tree as 
to gather discord from the Concord of Being.' 

" Then she gave me a card: 

" ' N. jST. N. The Equipollence of the Stars above and of the 
Mind below shows the awful unreality of Evil. Nihil nemini nocet.' 

" After the usual parting ceremony I returned to my room, 
well convinced of the unreality of Boston, and doubting whether 
I should ever again find my own Alcalde. I feared lest some fur- 
ther precept might arise by which Alcalde could not exist. 

" In the fifth lesson the president informed me that I was 
now in the second degree, or Normal Plane. We were ready for 
the first glimpse into the full, rounded perfection of IsTeministie 

" ' To cure men of all ills whatsoever, we have only to show 
them the stars. "When we waken in the night, only the sight of 
the stars can tell us we are awake. "When we are awake all dreams 
must vanish, and all is dream which breaks the serenity of the 
mind or checks the perfect perspicacity of being. We need not 
deal with the body, for the body docs not exist. It is dull, heavy, 
and aching, because it is the dead Eesiduum of Dream. When 
we forget it, it is no longer there. Then and not till then can you 


smile the serene smile of the Neministically Healed and Menti- 
physically Perfect Soul.' 

"The little card read: 

" ' ]S[. ]Sr. K. The body says, " I am ill." The reports of Sick- 
ness may form a coalition with the reports of Sin and say, " I am 
Malice, Lust, Apj)etite, Envy, Hate." Treat a belief in sickness 
as you would sin — with sudden dismissal. If it were not for what 
the human mind says of the body, the body would not be weary 
any more than an inanimate wheel. Nihil nemini nocet.' 

" On the sixth day the president gi'eeted me with her serenest 

" ' "VVe liaA'e now reached the point, my dear,' she said, ' when 
we must abandon Pharmaceutics and take up Ontology, the science 
of Abstract Being. In this we have many rivals who echo the 
cry, " Why art thou, NEMIXISM, come hither to torment us be- 
fore our time ? " Among the systems that thus cry out are many 
whom this world deems successful. Animal Magnetism, Atheism, 
Spiritualism, Theosophy, Agnosticism, Pantheism, and Infidelity 
are antagonistic to Mentiphysics and fatal to the demonstration 
thereof, and of iSTeminism, its noblest culmination; and so,' she 
continued, ' are some other systems.' 

" She warned me especially against Pantheism, ' the worship 
of the sylvan god Pan,' a cult reputed to be especially rife among 
the members of our club at Alcalde. 

" I tried to explain to her the difference between Pantheism 
and Sciosophy, but I did not succeed very well, for she grew impa- 
tient. In her judgment, I discovered, Sciosophy was grossly im- 
practical, and the views of Mr. Abner Dean would take the bread 
from the mouths of better men than he. ' I am told,' she said, 
' that Mr. Dean actually signed that wicked paper * of those "VVash- 

* In this document it is asserted that Neministic Science and Astral Health with a 
Key to the Stars " and all of the inspired writings shall be free — i. e., free from the love of 
the lust of gain and that the charging of three dollars for Science and Health, etc., when it 
can be printed and sold for less than fifty cents per copy, is wrong in principle, and, in 
effect, shuts the doors of this beautiful truth upon the poor by thus putting a prohibitive 
price upon it. . . . 

" We hold that in the giving of class instruction the teacher is entitled to a reasonable 
compensation, and give our opinion that such compensation should be ten dollars, and we 
do condemn the present practice when they charge one hundred dollars for a series of 
twelve lessons. Take a class of thirty — which is not unusual — the teacher receives ebout 
$258 per day for two hours' work. This is unjust, and especially so, because many of these 
teachers are unable and unfit for teaching. 

" In the matter of healing, when the healer gives the proper time to the work, one dollar 
per treatment ought not to be excessive, but the practice of some of charging before the 
patient is received into the room and then heavily charged for the treatment, is an outrage, 
. . . and should be prohibited." — See full tctf, Washington News Letter, September 6, 1S99 ; 


ington soreheads, who call themselves the Reformed College of 
!Neminism.' "With this, she would not listen to another word 
about Sciosophy. 

" Then I regretted that I had said anything, for this pleasant 
lesson came to an abrupt end, and left me without even the cus- 
tomary card to ponder over. I still wondered what could be the 
secret meaning of X. !N. N., nihil nemini nocet. 

" On the next day the storm had blown over, or rather, like 
all other storms, it had no real existence, and the smile of the 
president at the closing act of the lesson was the sweetest 
I had ever seen, the most perfect witness to the truth of her 

" She took up the subject of Materia Medica. After reading 
from a printed book the names of a host of poisons, from Abacus 
to Swamproot and Sandalwood and Zygadene, she warned us 
against them all. All are alike evil. All alike hJlve no real ex- 
istence. Therefore the student will do well not to learn their 
names. It will only interfere with his serenity of mind, and per- 
fect serenity is the sole symptom of success. 

" ' Surely this is better,' she said, ' than to support the popular 
systems of medicine, when the physician may be perchance an 
infidel and lose ninety-aud-nine patients Avhere ISTeminism cures 
its hundred. Is it because Osteopathy and Ostariopathy are more 
fashionable and less spiritual? Even business men have found 
that ISTeministic Science enhances their physical and mental powers, 
enlarges their perception of character, gives them acuteness and 
comprehensiveness, and an ability to exceed their ordinary busi- 
ness capacity,' 

"Then she gave me this card: 

"''N.'N.'N. In 1866 this discovery was made by me and by 
me alone: "The erring Mortal misnamed Mind produces all the 
organism and action of the mortal body." This led to the demon- 
stration that Mind is All and matter is naught, and being nothing, 
nothing hurts nobody. Nobody hurts nothing, which proves it 
plainly by inversion. Nihil nocet nemini; nihil nemini nocet.'' 

" On the eighth day the president discoursed on Anatomy. Re- 
ferring briefly to the pernicious notions of the ' ancients,' as with 
a broad sweep of her hand she designated the professors in Bos- 
ton and Cambridge, concerning the structure of the human body, 
she called it the nightmare of undigested learning. ' Wliy should 
we care where the jugular vein goes, when we know that there is 
no jugular vein? What of bones and muscles, and teguments and 
integuments? " Toil fatigues me," you say; but what is this me? 
Is it muscle or Mind? Which is tired, and so speaks? Without 


Mind could the muscles be tired? Do tlie muscles talk, or do jou 
talk for them? Science includes no rule of discord, but governs 

" On the card were these words: 

" ' X. X. IST. ilesh is an error of physical belief; a supposition 
that life, substance, and intelligence are in matter; an illusion; a 
belief that matter has sensations. Nihil nocet nemini.' 

" On the ninth day I was admitted to the third degree, or the 
Introspective Plane. As the president entered, I noticed a touch 
of camellia powder on her face, for the subject of the day was 
Beauty. ' Beauty,' she said, ' is internal before it is perceived out- 
wardly. To have perfect faith in the principle of iSIeminism is to 
regain the charms of Eternal Youth.' She told me of patients 
of hers who had become beautiful through faith. One good lady 
at ninety developed new teeth through belief in feminism — in- 
cisors, cuspids, bicuspids, and one molar. A gentleman at sixty 
had retained his full set of upper and lower teeth without a de- 
caying cavity. 

" On her card were these words : 

" ' jST. IST. K". The receipt for Beauty is to have less Illusion 
and more Soul. Nihil nernini nocet.' 

" And, as the final ceremony was passed, the president looked 
almost beautiful herself. 

" On the tenth day the president gave some account of her 
early studies and of the origin of jSTeministic Healing. 

" ' While from the human standpoint I inherited the refine- 
ment that goes with culture of family and moral rectitude, as 
usual here in Boston, yet there was a marked degree of spiritual 
Grace, Soulful Delicacy, and Esoteric Elegance that comes not from 
human ancestry, neither from communion with Nature. It was 
the exquisite coloring of the touch of the astral hand which opens 
the petals of thought as it does the opening rose. This ended in a 
soft glow of ineffable Joy, and out of its perfect serenity femi- 
nistic Science was born. 

" ' The discovery was so new, the basis laid down for physical 
and moral health so hopelessly original and men so unfamiliar with 
the subject, that not until later did I venture to proclaim it to 
the world.' 

" On the card was — 

" ' N. N. N. 

" ' My world has sprung from Spirit 
In Everlasting Day ; 
Whereof I've much to glory, 
Wherefor have much to pay.' 


" Under tliis was a picture of the egg of a vulture, in which, 
through his microscope, Agassiz once saw the sun, moon, stars, and 
the gathering of clouds. 'Nihil nemini nocetJ 

" At the eleventh lesson I was directed to go out for clinical 
practice. In my hotel I found a dear little six-year-old boy who 
had been invited, with the rest of a kindergarten class, to attend 
a picnic. 

" He did not feel that he wanted to go. He seemed dumpish, 
and, according to mortal belief, was not well. At noon he said 
that he wanted to go to sleep. I took him in my lap and began 
to read to him from Neministic Science and Astral Health with 
a Key to the Stars. Very soon he expressed a wish to go to the 
picnic, and did go. So T gave him a little card, with the words 
' Nihil nemi7ii nocet/ and all day he said nothing more about 
being sick. 

" Next morning the president gave me an account of various 
wonderful cures in her experience. Among others, she showed 
me a letter from John B. Higgins, of Little Egg Harbor, JST. J. 
This I copied down as follows: 

" ' I am glad to tell you how I was healed. Beliefs of con- 
sumption, dyspepsia, neuralgia, ulcers, tobacco, and bad language. 
. . . Doctors that were consulted did nothing to relieve me, and 
I constantly grew worse. Nearly two years ago you told me that 
if I would read a book called feministic Science and Astral Health 
with a Key to the Stars, I would be healed. I told you I would 
go into it for all it was w^orth, and I found that it is worth all. I 
got the book and read day and night. I saw that it must be true, 
and believed that what I could not then understand would be made 
clear later. After some days' reading I was afflicted with drowsi- 
ness, followed by vomiting. This lasted several hours, when I 
fell into a sleep. I awoke healed.' 

" The president assured me that if I would spend no time in 
intellectual drifting, adhering to the impersonal and scientific de- 
ductions of the one discoverer to whose clarified spiritual eye all 
truth of the mind had been revealed, with all the loyalty of a 
mathematician to the principles of mathematics, I would be sure 
of a comfortable fortune. Although money had no real exist- 
ence, the shadow in its substance proved that there was after all 
substance in its shadow. The ISTeministic Healer is at no expense 
for books or instruments or medicine, providing always that the 
one perfect Key to the Stars (including Xcministic Science and 
Astral Health) lies open before him. AVith that in sight he can 


not go wrong, and with perfect faitli in the unreality of all ex- 
ternal things it matters not in earthly affairs what he does or 
leaves undone. 

" The card for this lesson was : 

" ' jST. N, N. The population of our cities is ample to supply 
many practitioners, teachers, and preachers with work. To enter 
this field of labor beneficially to ourselves, it is necessary to demon- 
strate that the patient lulio is able to pay for being healed is more apt 
to recover than he who withholds a slight equivalent for health! 
Nihil nemini nocet.' 

" iVt the last lesson the president informed me that my course 
of instruction was complete, and that I must now go forth and 
bless the world. I must lean no longer on her personal leader- 
ship, but, trusting in the spirit, I should rest solely on the pure 
Mentiphysical principle at work. As a pioneer of Xeministic Heal- 
ing in the far uncultured West, I must stand alone in the con- 
flict, smiting error with the falchion of Truth. The rare bequests 
of the spirit are costly, and they have w^on fields of battle from 
which the dainty borrower would have fled.' 

" I spoke once or twice of my diploma, w^ithout which I could 
not practice my jirofession under the laws of Fresno County. At 
first she made as if she did not hear me, but at last she said: 

" ' The Massachusetts University of Mentiphysics draws its 
breath from me, but I yearn for retirement. Xo one else can 
sustain this institution amid the legislation aimed at its vital pur- 
pose. This has given me conscientious scruples about diplomas, 
and, with the growing conviction that every one should build on 
his own foundation, no more diplomas shall be issued from this 
flourishing school. 

" ' But do not worry, dear,' she said. ' Your power is just the 
same with or without diploma. You can make known the rare 
bequests of the Spirit quite as well as a martyr as you could as a 
physician. The faithful will stand by you. Those who believe 
will always pay. Take this locket, and hang it about your neck. 
It will contain the quintessence of all my teachings, and with this 
in your right hand and jSTeministic Science and Astral Health 
Avith a Key to the Stars in your left, you wall drain the cup which 
I have drained to the dregs as the discoverer and teacher of iSTemi- 
nism, and without tasting this cup its inspiration can not be gained.' 

" Then I took the little locket, and here it is. On one side 
are the letters D. I^. IST. IST., ' which,' she said, ' makes its holder 
a doctress.' On the reverse is the face of Lydia Pinkham, 
while around the margin, in fine gilt letters, is a scroll \Adth the 
motto, ' Nihil nemini nocet.' Mr. Gridley, the learned professor of 

VOL. LTI. — 15 


our Alcalde school, says this means ' nothing hurts nobody.' But 
I am sure that there is more in it than that; besides, whatever 
it is we can prove it by inversion: Nihil nocet nemini; nihil ne- 
mini nocet — one is true like the other, and its s^nnbolic significance 
is proved by its three N's, for N is the symbol of eternity. At 
least, this is what the president told me. But now that I am back 
in Alcalde, the whole thing seems like a dream, while all the things 
I had learned to call dreams seem more real than ever. Maybe 
I am still on the Material Plane after all, in spite of all I have 
done and all the rest of us in Alcalde are doing to try to rise 
above it." 




At the beginning of the present century the newspapers pub- 
-^-^ lished in the United States numbered 200 — one for e?rch 
26,450 of population — while at the present time the total of regu- 
lar publications slightly exceeds 20,000 — one for each 350 inhabit- 
ants of the country; and in that growth and development of the 
business is represented more of science and art, more of physical 
ingenuity and mental activity, than in any other line of human 
endeavor. One hundred years ago the publication of a news- 
paper did not rank as a business, and the preparation of its con- 
tents was regarded as a pastime or the indulgence of a whim, rather 
than a profession. At the end of the century, journalism is the 
history of the world written day by day, the chief medium of en- 
lightenment for the masses, the universal forum of scholar, sage, 
and scientist. As a business enterprise, the newspaper of to-day 
commands unlimited capital, and as a profession it ranks second 
to none. 

For three centuries and a half following Gutenberg's inven- 
tion of type little progress was made in the art of printing, and 
the production of a newspaper in this country in 1800 was accom- 
plished with crude machinery and involved much slow and diffi- 
cult hand labor. The printing was done on wooden presses of 
primitive pattern, the type was large and ill formed, the paper 
used was in many cases inferior to the lowest grade made at the 
present time, and the production of a large number of copies of 
any issue was out of the question. No attempt was made in this 
country to publish a daily paper until 1784, and in 1800 daily edi- 
tions were issued only in four or five of the larger cities. 


The publications of that 
period were not newspa- 
pers in the sense in whicli 
the word is now used, be- 
cause no particular effort 
was made to present an ac- 
count of the hapiDcnings of 
the day. Notices of the 
arrival and departure of 
ships, time tables of mail 
coaches, and brief an- 
nouncements of matters 
of political interest filled 
the limited space devoted 
to domestic news. Foreign 
news consisted entirely of 
matter reprinted from the 
English journals received 
by sailing vessels, and 
therefore weeks or months 
old when it appeared. The 
wooden presses used a hun- 
dred years ago were op- 
erated entirely by hand. 
After the type had been set 
it was placed in a frame or 
" form," with little or no 
regard to artistic arrange- 
ment of headlines or dis- 
played matter. To print 
the edition, the " form " 
was placed on the bed of 
the press and ink spread 
over the type by the use of 
hand rollers. ' The white 
paper was then dampened 
with water, sheet by sheet, 
laid over the stationary 
" form," and the impres- 
sion was made by pulling 
down the upper part of the 
press with a lever. This 
work was so slow that a 
circulation of three or four 

Hats Loft ! 

SUPPOSED to have btcn Irft on the whr>rf nt 
Burlinf;-)li|., ot taken on hoard nf fomt- vcfTel '.ly 
luiUuky, fomc time in the month of Nnvcnihcr Jalt, 
^IX Ocnticmcn's tine HATS, were packrd ip a Tea 
(-heft, ami purfliafcd of Walter Kcndcrich, with 
his C.:rd ififidc nT the Hati. , '•Vlvoei^'er will g-ive in- 
tnniKUion where they may be jtound, (hall rcLxivc a 
reward of FIVE DOLLARS, hy applying rb 

J'\ViK^ CASF.V, 

dec. ^^l . ^t iih. 164 Front-ftrect. 

Sherry Wine, 

OF the noted hii\iici.<,I. li. and D. Q^ jufl receiv- 
ed per 'he brig Union, from Cadiz, and for Sale by 
D. SMiril and Co 
jio. ar?. Front-ftrcPt, neat Pcck-llip. 
j^eceiriiber 13, _ im 

l^hn Montgomery, 

and 10R\'ER, 
TAKES this nrtthod to iiiforin the public, that 
*•? has latc-1^' arrived from Charlctton, and has com- 
menced biiltnefi 

At iNo. 23 ROSK-STRF.RT, 
wl-^re 5ic makes ar.d rcj>air5 all kinds of Wind and 
String Inflruments, in the neateft marncr. He 
hopes from his experience in the uiioVc liufinefs. he 
ihall merit the favour of the public in general, 
deechiber 14. ',rn 


35 Hhd^ of an excellent qiialitj-, jufl l.ahding 
from Virginia, and for Saie, as low pncts, by 

pec. 31. No. 4 Wtlllara-flreet. 

■— ^Vnn HAS ON HANn'-^ 
Several choice Parcel of 'l' O B A C C O. 

A Kegro Wench Jor Sale^ 

AtiED about 2% or 30 years, is healthy, ftrosg, 
honcfl, fob.''r and indullriou's — has two Childrea, 
the one a lioy, in his fotrth ye^ir, trfc other a Girl, 
upwards, of a year oM — Sold for no fault. '1 o pro- 
vent upnecelTary applicutiua, the price ftir the three 
H 8ol.- Apply to C. Scluilts, jon. corner of Eagle 
and Fourih-ftreets, Bowery. in> dci. j. 

lurks Iilan;>s 5ait. 

Ttie fubfciiber 13 auUiorifed io dii'pofe of from 2c 
it> loc.oco bufbei* fait, to be delivered at lurks 
inands,an<f Will tontra^St for it, ir; afiv qitantity, at the 
very hw jVfice of Ij ccHts per bu'fhel, payable iij 
New-York at 60 0* 90 days after fight of ilie pur- 
thafcri drafts Rif H A R D I . I" U C K E K, 

■«<3- 39' l2j front-ilreet. 

■■■■'■ ^ - ■ ■ , - 

Landing this Day. 

At Burling-flip. from the fchooner Raven, 

20 bds.jinsjiav^ high proof Gt.ieva 

Fkom the New York Gazette and General Ad- 
vertiser OF Wednesday, JANrARV 1, 1800. 











ApfiJ. . 










1 6 



























































2 'J 








































2 'J 












































































































































































I J 

















From tiik Nicw Yokk Gazetpe and (Jknkkal 
Advektiseu of January 1, 1800. 

ImiuliT'd copies of a daily 
newspaper would severely 
tax the capacity of the 
press room. The weekly 
})ublications were as a rule 
limited to about the same 
figures, because the entire 
mechanical part of produc- 
tion devolved upon one 
man, who was often owner 
and editor as well as 
printer. Some iron presses 
were imported from Eng- 
land in 1810, and in 1817 
George Clymer, of Phila- 
delphia, invented a lever 
press that was a marked 
improvement over the 
crude machines then in 
general use, reducing the 
manual labor required and 
increasing the speed with 
which printed papers could 
be turned out. The first 
power press used in this 
country was invented by 
Daniel Treadwell, of Bos- 
ton, in 1822, and oper- 
at(Ml by - the American 
Bible Society, the power 
being furnished by a team 
of mules. These presses 
were not adapted to news- 
])apcr work, and the first 
considerable advance in 
the mechanical part of the 
business was made in 1829 
and 1830, when a Wash- 
ington hand press was in- 
vented. Seventeen years 
later a cylinder power 
])rcss was perfected by 
"Richard l\r. TToe, and the 
mechanical ability to pro- 


dnce periodicals was more than doubled; but during the time 
when American ingenuity developed the steam engine, the cot- 
ton gin, the sewing ma- 
chine, and the electric 
telegraph, the progress 
made in the mechanism 
of newspaper making- 
was comparatively in- 
significant. The pro- 
cess of stereotyping was 
introduced into this 
country from England 
in J 813, and a year 
later the iS'ew Testa- 
ment was printed from 
plates, but the discov- 
ery was not utilized in 
the publication of news- 
papers until 1861. 

In the first half of 
the century journalism 
did not at any time 
rank as a profession re- 
quiring special training, 
and capacity, and the 
returns of the counting 
room were so meager, 
the cost of material so 
high, and the aj^pliances 
in the mechanical de- 
partment so imperfect, 
that the publication of 
newspapers rose only 
by slow degrees to rec- 
ognition as a business 
enterprise in which cap- 
ital might seek invest- 
ment with fair prospect 
of a satisfactory return. 
Modeled after English 
publications, the early 
American newspapers 
depended, for whatever 
of reputation or success 

And fjr falelby'-BRUNli and EUICII, No tj; 

Platilbs Royal Clioticts or Crown Platillas 
Brctap;ne8 Dowlas 

tieas a la Morlais Liftados 
Kouans Arabia* ^ 

Clifcks and Stripes 
Haerl.trin Stripes and Check* No % 
VricsBontcs Ofnabnigs 

Ticklenburjjs Ha'flatictt and Bagging 

Gcr»n<in Steel andiron waiea 
Claret in Boxes fupcrior quality 

i:?" Tbe above Goods are fubjeft to forcigt 

4LZ0 ON HA>iD^ 
RiiiTja Sail Ducic Diapers 
87 bhds Mary.S Tobacco 

Bill of Exchange 406I. js- lod.— 60 days ow 

dec 5 im 


A Wet Nurre who can tc welJ rccommeudcJ Ap- 
ply at this office. «ov 29- tf 

400 barrel* arri\T'l this day, and for Sale by 

MONb'ON and JAMF.S H.-iYT, 
No 140. aud r4> Wacer ftrcet, 

TO LE r, 

That '•.■vmlfomc and CviiiipJctdy finidied three ftory 
brick rl )UiU, No,i6!{ Greenwich rtrCLt, Intcly relmilt 
waf formerly occiipied l^y Gov. Crawfurd. For fur« 
therpardculafs pleafe to enijuire at iVIrs. Rogers, no 7 
iJeaver flreet. 

»16c 16 tf 

A Nejro Man, 

To be feld cheap, he is about t'.7enty year'; of a'.e 
miy hefcen at the iirilevvell of this City. Apply for 
tcrais at 16 Broadway and i\^ Heaii etreet. 
dec lo 

No i?5 i'earl flreet, 
Ha^ on hand a large quantity of flsughter and dryed 
tilde Soal Leather, neats do. \«ax, gialn and rufiet calve 
flc .n, /f Piierican aad Engli(h boot and ''o itee leg», mor . 
occo r.nd kid skins ofvarioas colours, harncfs and fclrt- 
ingleather, Sec. &c. 
de« i$ }sn. 

10 cafea mens fine f.'fliionalic black HATS 
received per the Faftor from London. For S^lc 
bf UAA<; MOS£S asd ^ONS. 

Advertisements from the New York Daily Adver- 
tiser OF Wednesday, January 1, 1800. 


they achieved, upon the fame and ability of the editor. The re- 
porting of current events without comment was a secondary fea- 
ture of the daily papers, and in the weekly publications it was not 
attempted. Before the days of railroads and prompt and reliable 
mail service, communication between men in public life and, in 
fact, all persons of education, was chiefly by letter. The custom 
grew into a fixed habit, and to a large extent influenced the char- 
acter of the newspapers published prior to 1850. The editor ad- 
dressed himself directly to his readers through long editorials upon 
topics in which he was interested, and his publication was in reality 

a mere instrument for 
NOTICK ^^^^ expression of opin- 

To the Propn.tors of Hr,od!anc1 and B.apnen, i^^^" . . ^^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ 
nuba fend and bring WwtwooA to this (.iij for politicians were encour- 

THE Common Council, finding th« great Fr.ui ^S^^. ^« . ^"^^ l^^tcrs for 

is Jaily committed in :hr lale of Firc-^<iod in this ci- publication upon public 

'^•;.tr't'h'r!i'''''^'"rV''';'"r^f''^'''*''^r' questions, and a long 

lUreCtcd the iolJowmjj Extiad of the Law on t)i*C ^ ,' . ° 

fuSjca tobe republiihed, to thcend that ill perfon* Communication from a 
r"ff"?;3lT"^t'Y'^'''T";'^''''^'l'^ man of national reputa- 

not afreet ignorance o\ the Law. And it w llndly . ^ 

enjoined on the //./5>rf/(,r/o/-/^,>«,4,W to caniV; the La W tiou WaS regarded bv the 

AoHi"n:xt^°;;'"rn'^j7""^ editor as matter of far 

April next, on pain (A being rtmfjciij$^,n Ojji.c. 

Extra& of the Laxv. more value to his journal 

tKLlvlr^ki^'''"''^^7^-'^^*^'nV''' 'T'"^^ ''''• than anv amount of news 

thil city tor fale as cord-w^nJ, fliall be m ]i ngth yivr 

fcrt, including half the fcarf— and that if nnv pcrfon of the CVentS of the day. 

fhull otter for fale any Fire-.vooJ ^i corJiu-:.d w.'iich -pi.p nvfrnmVqtimi nnfl 

il.-ll i:ot be of that length, fuch pcrf..,, ih.ili forfeit ^ OlganizatlOU and 

tiie fum ..fy;»f«rv-;fv, Cents for each Cart-load. development of political 

^ Pubhihed by order of the Common Council. ' parties in the early part 

ROBERT BKNSON, CArr*. of the second quarter of 

. New vofk, ;;<o» ir, 1795,. ' the century resulted in 

a rapid increase in the 

A Municipal Notice from the New York Gazette mirnbov of nPWSDTDPrs 
AND General Advertiser of January 1, 1800. ^ ' ^ 

throughout the country. 
Party leaders found that they could reach a greater number of 
citizens by means of published letters and speeches than by the 
primitive process of campaigning by easy stages from one State 
or county to another. From writing personal letters to friends 
in their districts, senators and representatives in Congress found 
that they could keep their constituents better informed of the 
progress of legislation and politics by means of signed statements 
in the press of their res])ective States. The party organ and the 
personal journal were the immediate natural results of this con- 
dition of public life and polities. Every secular journal sup- 
ported some political party or organization without qualification, 
and there was little or no independence of the press. The editor 


J 5 U'H 








^??L: W  




I 1 ,1 

:^.:- V--:-;:.. . - ..11 


^:1 Mi 

3«i1 p.; 

•B^^r^l '•^. ; •S'l; 


4a '"i5H"i- ■ 


found his subscribers among the members of his own party, and 
often looked to the organization or the candidate for financial sup- 
port. Papers were established and editors hired by parties, fac- 
tions, and individual leaders to advocate some particular plan of 
finance or tariff, or some general policy for the nation or State. 
During this stage of American journalism the influence of a paper 
depended largely upon the reputation, individuality, and force of 
character of the editor. He needed not to possess any particular 
qualification for the work, except a general knowledge of the 
affairs on which he was to write and a command of vigorous lan- 
guage to compel attention to his utterances. For many years the 
majority of the periodicals of the country, daily and weekly, were 
critical reviews of the events of the time, rather than mediums 
for the spread of general information. News of important hap- 
penings at home spread through all the States ahead of the circu- 
lation of the papers, and the people looked to the latter for re- 
view and comment upon events, rather than for detailed accounts 
of the occurrences. Foreign affairs, as reported in the English 
publications received in this country, took precedence in the classi- 
fication of nevv's in the journals of the first half of the century, and 
local events, often matters that were subsequently recognized as 
of great historical value, were briefly and too often imperfectly 
recorded. It is a matter to be regretted that in the days when 
American statesmen and orators were making history for the world, 
when the new republic, having passed beyond the stage of ex- 
periment, was advancing with prodigious strides toward glorious 
achievements in material development, the journals of the coun- 
try kept but an imperfect and often inaccurate record of events 
that should have been reported in full. 

During the first forty years of the present century there was 
no system of collecting the news for publication, and the capital 
invested in the newspaper business was insufficient to permit of 
any extra outlay to obtain reports of events occurring at a dis- 
tance in advance of the regular mails. Such reports as were ob- 
tained were usually voluntary contributions written by a friend 
of the editor, and often colored or distorted according to the preju- 
dice of the w^riter. These letters were, almost Avithout exception, 
semi-editorial in character, the writers indulging freely in comment 
and expression of opinion upon the event they attempted to record, 
so that no political or public matter was reported entirely free 
from partisan coloring. The drivers of mail coaches, the captains 
of coastwise or river vessels, strolling peddlers, lawyers, surveyors, 
and wandering missionaries, who made long journeys into the in- 
terior and from town to. town, were the news reporters of early 

J, asiuffeU's ^S? (^a^rtte. 

C O M M E R 

I-ubliSici! on MONDAY 

: R C I A L AND 

S I3d 1 HiftSDA YS. by JAMES CITTLER, u bi> 

p o L 1 r I c A r. 

[No. 52. 5/-Vol. villi 

Office, in Coogrefi Su«l, (forrorilT Quikcr-Lanc.) fiOSfOS'. 

MONDAY, Sepltmbtr \Jl, 1800. [4 .///'■ per ami.] 

Mntf o( stotho. Courfc of <rit!).-iiigc. 

nfili.i cw>. 

T», .St.. ^«.. 

rr/7^r, Sjr«rd)T». /t W«/ 

price Current, at laO^ZCfi., 

;athcra, Uve Cccfe L, 
, Lilbon, l_ 

n Fcathcra, 


_A.SITES>«< I/./ 

Almoadi, Toft A.rlI'd 
, U»c*, (LeIl'J 
Brrj.t (hip 
Buttcc, fliippinf, 
B<e(. (hip rtorei, 
• cargo, 

B.-uIr, Frc<i<h, 
, Spinilh, 
. N'apki. 

««£. W>.. /»» 


, UaoJ, Liihofi 

? ii:"c. 


_' lit 6t 

Ibl •! 

C.I 7 


f .[ Ho.iioi 
) No 110 1 

ChceCc' EngUih 

, A'nerican 
Coal. pi:. Foiciga, 

W.fodia, Biuk. 

<^ Uctrinsa. 

I Hs(kcr<ll, bay, 
t , N. S<wU 
Y* Bearer, pell, 
-> Scar, 
" -• Poi, oola 

"i.J -"^ 
3 ;•< .M,.,l,, . 
,^ S Matoualb, 
" 5 (>i.r!, . 
' i .^T..?opcr.fl«(t- 

1:3 IXBr.n,!, 
>>^ (. M.Jillin,,, 


Fija, fra.l, aS ». !_ 

DUTIES.!] Flaa'ttcd, r«,.a.l^, 'H 

l*o«dcr. IS, 

:<a,! '<> 

fB..I\.r. iobj», ba 

J* , ly U, •_ 

J inonon,.ol.,S, •_! 

do J. 1 L . <.br». '-,' 

: < , So.ib 


n il!'.l^i- /.r.r - I 

,5 r'<=-.J"(-'^--'-i.i-...-i- --f- 

. I'r,, 
J in U 



rti. pr. (b. ij — ,. J t>oar«I», cJ^.r l^ 
c<.,pr.bu SIj^ VsMnitc.,' ' [- 

" :.i,'..Sit, f 

.U.r.1. || 


i;< El.-rv....f,.cc. 

\<\[-A: . ' J; 

,.-. .M„,.i;, t..-W 
1 (."'--*«• i*^' 

J... Ba!l. X. 

U),Iire, VrlloWi dry. JC. 

)n,.. Hoc 

[ M, I'iAcs 


:i it"! 

. |,S 

- ' 1 8 II 
N„.bn^..,.d, |H ■ 'K. 
Ri.Jia Shrcii..;, f' 16 Jo( I J Jl 

Ri,c, • ' ' ' ■ 

K.J.on J. (t.,11, 

.Sjur.lK, Rounb, 

K, IV.nJ.b.d - 
. .^o.cri...,, t- 
.lla.>n»h«^ J.:IC 

, brown i^ 
, EkI lodia, 
, Wei I:,j:., 
, 1.0af, 
S. Ub... 

^ \ l.iilioo 
•^1. .t,|.ool. 

, ra.rnr, - 

i -. fW.O.Vfip.^.„.,'»l 

I; ■■ :b. r- 
i . ibl. t - 

■* I R. O.k, Ibd. 

'-» 1 . (\a, ''- 

.: I V.'0.ltS.I.,lo. ' 


- ill)(ic,.. " . 

r b... .I40..VR,. , 

i.;ct« 1. V.,,, 

; li.I>.'i 

I Si. r.f, 

. iwrUT 

3 < Ka:,l, . 

a I Clarel.doi r^.«' 

» F.crrb ,alk, , 





.> do' f 

AYontie M.»ri. ••» Rn-ri r*|.i". " 
.■ l-n'»»J'"J'--»— .l-..i,i-.»-.r--» 

■Vi Vo. tj (Or.MIII.L. 
A Koianrial I' OKGW i! h» i 

^olitiral jllif'flli'inp. 

.rrd^. V- 
Jiub*.^,; >M 


U, bf lb* bean ef ...i.., 
rd. •. 4*bd>a(, fa« ka*« |lw 

1, o. ikr «» ''>••' 

■ be vf.-l ibr M.. 

Id a ... u.a • 1, d.Ib*<.M U^eed to a 
, - - -- --- , ^.f*«'.. t~Sr| W..1 t;»lb I. »..«h,>|H.O., 

IT •i.f-r. a ib>'.o,;h c.--..*;^ .J am., 'afiUixV' r.-.«o l».e f «"«•.-«-'. I... aba.*. . . (..'... -j ..r r ...-Mie«a Jodcwrat .o ita .-4. 
»k.e 11 1^. ;'«.W,«, aoJ latrirS. ihai I aod iti^-.trJ Uiaoi d Tc .d. >-d «•- 1 xa i.. [ t.£t.d « . .••Ir. ......*. Ka i.'.ai* pao > 

:l.t ,.*-.. U,4 a ^citaM Kia.d ay K<.Jt» (^.1, | ar^.Mln w ." llwi. F.ra iba gtrM /.m^" ' " ilaa. a- -Mr. i' . ol ika vafb. 
•aj,.,. ..ftderio t^el'... and cia«>ia> Cank I .-f Loniaa (.. tiar<). a-d iror (Imt, ka. a..t ,kap*d (.aaa a f.. L'^l didra. ^a U lU i,.4 < .»■ I'.d 

..I a l',d..a> 1...... >,.p-b.. oiy •O..I... .auriaac^aadLadar (.^.ai, k.. Liaa c>o la ike» .„. II il., d.. .<• I- « . — 

r..«. »<Jl.a '.• l.'lKaaa! a.)., iiaak... ..aoUd t., d. (n. aai .1, ha,,y ala ' -ti'iJ to '« ikaii ci,, .• laala'l. •• aa- ••>. 
" ""' -"■■ ' ■ .. - ««.... k«a Lira aaih. a .^. a.«tl<a« .f ibaia raa* . 'I'T 'a-. 

I w*A^,.u 

>ar wab, . 

, , b.ijbi p.^lf .«.. oo Ika raa .-.« r*; 

yo'd*.. \ifnf — t'ad,.tiaXf.*.p.r;rAMoiaaaro#rdiaiike«.l.i.<a la i'-. '•apaadao, -/ •»- »■* 

...■•aaaia. aaak.n ihafaal.'.I..«,naa.a aa, < itr <|.«caoa. tad po-.taaai >a il< .(..I,.i tnai.,.. ..J ... <~.Mir. a adn !«»•"•« ■"'r^ w aaj, (.^rA. l« U ^llaad. Tka t IJUny U .it feat ok,.*. yaidad kj Iba ktad w( .(.d I'* ' ^'kaa aaafcry a«-i» aa ao •«. 

* * ■ ~ '* laril-rc'iJbagWfa, [•iUa«(aad<:fa«td ia.UC<((aadaad.iUl,;- .a:b,i..i^.v«a.tadl.f b.a.aaaaJ .a.>r **' ■ 


days. AVlien they arrived in a city or town they would tell the 
latest news from the places they had visited, and the next issue 
of the local paper would coiitaiii a story beginning, "The Rev. 
Mr. Bland, the traveling missionary, relates," etc., or, " Captain 
Smith, of the schooner , reports having heard," etc. Infor- 
mation received in this way might relate to Indian uprisings, fires, 
floods, crimes, accidents, or political events; but in every case the 
published account would be interspersed with opinions of the nar- 
rator and the comments of the editor who prepared the story for 
publication. For news of events happening in the larger cities, 
the journals of the first half of the century depended almost en- 
tirely on reprinting from exchanges. They had no regular corre- 
spondents any^vhere, and a paper published in New York would 
reprint from the papers of Boston and Philadelphia such of the 
news of those cities as impressed the editor as being of more than 
local interest. During the War of 1812, the subsequent Indian 
wars, and the conflict with Mexico, news of battles and movements 
of armies in the field was obtained by the slow process of waiting 
for ofiicial reports to the Government or private letters from offi- 
cers and men at the front. The Mexican War stimulated the pub- 
lic demand for news, increased, the circulation of newspapers, and 
did more than any other event up to that time to arouse the 
editors of the country to the fact that the people wanted early 
and complete information of what was going on in the world, 
rather than individual opinions on general problems. While 
that struggle was in progress the arrival of the weekly mail in 
a remote village was an event of importance. The inhabitants 
would gather in large numbers at the post office, and the meager 
war news contained in the newspapers would be read aloud. 
The postmaster or some subscriber to a paper would often post 
a copy of the latest journal in some conspicuous place in the 
town, and from that simple beginning there was developed the 
newspaper bulletin board, where the public may obtain brief 
information of. great events before the full report can be put 
in type. 

After the division of the voters of the country into organized 
political parties, the tariff, banking and currency, the acquisition 
of additional territory, and States rights developed into great na- 
tional questions, precipitating prolonged and heated discussion by 
the statesmen of that period. This condition stimulated the 
growth of a certain class of newspapers, and brought into promi- 
nence many writers of ability. The statesmen and politicians of 
that time turned to the press as an available and valuable medium 
through which to disseminate arguments. They sought to con- 




Prize of 

■ 20,000 Dollars, is 20,000 


! 0,000 



















. 100 . 












Fiist drawn number 


do. ontlie 6th day 

1 .000 


10;h day 



















. 3,000 







vince ratlier than to inform the public, and tlie jonrnalism of that 
period made no substantial progress except as an instrument for 
the development and exploitation of writers of force and influ- 
ence. Whatever power 
XirOY,_LAIf£!NGBURGH AND WATERFORD the press exerted in shap- 
.^,,.. NAVIGATION LOTTERY. . ■ events, whatever it 

• accomplished in swaying 
the public mind in the 
days when nullification 
was scotched and terri- 
torial expansion was ac- 
cepted as a fixed policy of 
the majority, should be 
credited to the genius and 
individuality of the lead- 
ing writers of that time, 
rather than to a full pres- 
entation of facts. The 
years of agitation of the 
question of slavery still 
further developed individ- 
uality in journalism. The 
newspaper became an in- 
strument for educating 
the people on certain pub- 
lic questions, and an influ- 
ence upon public opinion 
by means of editorial writ- 
ing. That" was the period 
of so-called great editors, 
of whom Horace Greeley 
may be mentioned as a 
conspicuous example, who 
made and unmade poli- 
ticians with their praise 
or criticism, who shaped 
the policy of political 
parties, controlled conven- 
tions and nominated can- 
didates, changed the cur- 
rent of their country's his- 
tory at critical points, and in many ways wielded an influence in 
public affairs greater than that of the leading statesmen. The 
editor of that time was greater than his newspaper, and the power 

10,788 Prizes. Dollars 225,000 

26,712 B/a.nks. 

37,500 Tickets at 6 Dollars, is DUs. 225,000 
. Siihjecl io a Deduction of 15 per cent. 
. K^ Less than two and an half Blanks to a Prize. 

The Managers will ccruinly commence draw- 
ing in the City of Ncw-Ycrk, on tliejirsf TwsiUiy hi 
May next, and will continue to draw 750 Tickets 
each day until completed, as they liave disposed of 
theLoTTtRY to a Company of Gentlemen in this 
city, who are to sell the Tickets at the orisinal 
price of Six Dollar'', until the fcs: of December. 

This Lottery is for the purpose of niising ThJrt-j 
Thousand DoUurs, to improve tlie ^Javigation of Hud- 
son's River, between the City of Albany and the 
Villages of Troy, Lansin^hrrgh, and VVaterford- - 
Agreeably lo Three several Acts of the Legislanut; 
cf liiis State. 

Til? Tic kets in the above Lottery are for. sale at 
Gain .t TtN Eyck's Book-store, No. 14&iPcarl- 

strect. Priz(,-Tickeu i.i the New- York. StJJt. 

Road Lottery taken in payment. l^v-i 16 • tl',, 

Fkom Till-: Xkw York Evening Tost ok Novemueu 
Hi, 1801. 


of the press was in reality tlie force of character of the individual 
exerted through the instrument within his control. 

From 1830 to 1860 the progress made in the mechanical de- 
partment of the business 

BROWN, fte 5TA^33URY. 

HAVE just receive.-'', n v?.'iig^blc col'eciion of 
BOOKS, among which <jrc \ 

Large and elejr.nt Pamilv Bibles vf\\.\\ plates, , 

The works ot vViUiam PcDn, the fbundcf of Penn-^ 
sylvanla, complete, • ■^ \ 

Barcley'j apology for the people calle*! Quakers — 
'.vitb a number of books of the same description. '" 

was slow and unimpor- 
tant in comparison with 
recent inventions. Cylin- 
der presses came into gen- 
eral use for the printing 
of daily papers, but the 
weekly and monthly pub- 
lications continued to use 
the primitive hand ma- 
chines. The speed of press- 
work was still limited to 
a few hundred copies per 
hour, so that an extensive 
circulation could not be 
supplied even if there had 
been a demand for it. The 
white paper used was still 
made entirely of rags, and 
most of the material was 
imported from Austria and 
Italy. The cost of produc- 
tion was high, and few 
newspapers in the United 
States were published at a 
fair profit. The uncer- 
tainty of the financial re- 
turns from the business 
greatly retarded its devel- 
opment. Inventors found 
that their ingenuity would 
receive more substantial 
rewards in other fields, and 
editors and publishers were 
rarely practical men who 
could discover imperfec- 
tions in mechanism and 
suggest improvements in 
their own. shops. Through- 
out the first half of the 
century most of the im- 


Blair's Sermons, 

Do. Lectufes, 
Goldsmith's Aninuted 
' Nature. 
Darwin's Zoonomia, 

— = ■ Phytologia, 

American Preacher, 
Coxe's Svviuerlaiid, 
Beaujour's History 

Chatham's Life, 
Hornes' S^tches of the 

History -of Man, 
Smith's Wealth of Na- 
tions, . 
Tajplin's Farriery, 
Rumfoid's Essays, 
Burns' Wprks, 
Thompson's Works, 
St. Pierre's Voyage, 
— "——Studies of Nature 
JcCersqn's Notes, (hot- 
Porter's Antiquities, 
Archer's Sermons, 
Franklin's Sermons, 
Court of Berlin, 
Boureannts' History of 

Burk's Works, 
Rcid's Es.say5, 
Boil on V.'ounds, 
System of Anatomy, 
Fourcroy's Chemistry, 

London Practice of Phy- 
sic — ^with a great va- 
riety of Books of the a- 
bove description. 
Durnford and East's Re- ■ 
ports, ' 

Blac kstonc's Cbmmenta- 

Reports of Cases argued 
and determined in tlie . 
Court of king's Bench 
in Hilary Tt rm, in , 
the lorty-first -year of 
the reign of George 5d. 
lOOlj by E. Hyde 
East, parts 1 & 'i. 
Park on Insurance, 
Lex Mcrcatoria Redivi- 

va, &c. &c. 
The Oriental Navigator, 
American Coast Pilot, 
Jackson's Book-keep- 
New Practical Navijatcr, 
Walsh's Mercantile At j 
rithraetic, - " ^^ 

A System of Exchange 
• with almost all parts of 
the World, to which 
is added, - the India 
Directory for purcha- 
sing . the Di-ugs and 
Spices of the E.Ind.&c. 
This is a new and va- 
luable bock, and has 
never before been ad- 


A Urge assortment of MERCEANTS AC- 
COUNT BOOKS to various patterns, p:tcat-lined. 
— All orders in this line duly attended to. ' 

A large asbonment of WRITING PAPER of all 
descriptions, with every article used in counting- 
houses— 140 dozen of LEATHER lor Bo*k-bindcrs, 
for sale onnnoderate tcvms. 

N.E. BOOK-BINDING done in the neatest man- 
ner. Nov. 46 

A Emukselli:i;'# .Vdvektiskmext from the New 
York Evening Post of Frid.w, December 11, 


proved methods of printing were develoi)ed iu the establishments 
of book and job printers. There new presses and all new me- 
chanical devices were first installed, and the newspaper followed, 
instead of leading, in the work of material progress in the art. 

To the New York Herald is generally credited the departure 
from old-time methods that resulted in the creation of newspapers 
devoted entirely to the publication of news, the reporting of the 
happenings of the world day by day. The innovation was not 
well received by tlu^ editors, who believed that the public cared 
more for o])inions than a record of events. The new method 

proved popular, however, 
■•'^'^Vi^^r'^^^^f;^^^' • nnd the development <>f the 

"P XHIBITION" for Christmas Et^ng, the newspaper from the per- 
i-i iLStii of December ; aad also oa New- Vear'^ ^^,^y^\ iournal and partv Or- 
tveniivg, {lie 1st of January : — HisE.vtellency Tco* •> , . 

MAS Jefferson, President, of the United States, gan dates from that time, 
will be exhibited in a large Transparent Painting, 8 'pi fmnirlpT nf tlip TTpvild 
by 5 feet, lull length ; he is represented jn the atti- ' ^^° lOUnaei 01 tue lieiaiQ 
tude in vs'hich he expressed that never to be forgot- and the new School of lOUr- 
tcn sentence, " IVe are all RfO'ibficSiu, ua are ell fid- 1. , i 

flra/-it.."— Every true republican attached from prin- naiism spent money tO Ob- 
cipleto the name of Jefferson, cannot but be de. tain the newS of the World 
lighted in viewing the exact rescmbiarKC of a man i 1 ■ i 

so high UJ their estimation.— Also; his Excellency ahead ol the ordinary chan- 
Geob.ce Cli.vton, Governor of thi« State^ rcpre- ,,,j„ ^f (.nrnmnTiipatimi TTp 
sented in that calm attitude and pleasing situ Jtion that " •^ ^^ ^^ ^ omniUUlcatlon. ±10 
he was placed in at Fort Montgomery, where hit established a system of Spe- 
sk.iU and valour will ever be remembered. — Alike- • 1 • i J 

ne&sof President Jefferion in minatuVe, ornamented ''''^^ couriers, employea COr- 
with tropj.ies, which, with a Transparent Painung respondents, and made the 
of Mount Vesuvius, will be placod in front of the ., 

Museum— Accompanying tlic ai>ove, will be dis-. collection 01 reports OT 
played, elegant full length likenesses of those dl*- ,.vpi,t^ of ooiicrfll interest a 
tinguishcd ch-r.ictcis. Franklin and Fayette.— The ^ "^'^'' ^^ gcnciai lUieiebL a 
Museum will likewise be bciutifuUy illuminated.— matter of first importance 
Ai>MiTTA.><c£ Two Shillings. . Dec ft I • ;i i • •• i • 

in the business ot making a 

An Edkn MrsHK of I80I. From the Nkw Yokk - r\^.^ Ti 

Evening Post of Dk.'E.mbeb 23, 18.1. llCWSpapcr. Other editors 

followctl the new movement 
slowly, and often with much doubt and liesilation, but those who 
stood still and refused to supjilv their reaiU'i-s with the news were 
in time compellecl to go out <d" the business. 

When the civil war began the new order of journalism had pro- 
gressed far enough to create a general demand for a full report 
of the progress of that great conflict. All tlie larger cities of the 
country were connected by railroads and telegraph lines, the politi- 
cal agitation for five years prior to the beginning of hostilities had 
aroused the people to a feeling of intense interest in the struggle, 
the circulation of the daily papers had increased almost to the 
limit of their mechanical capacity, and every condition favored 
a rapid development of the business with a certainty of profitable 
returns. Tlie leading editors of the country still e.xerted a far- 
reaching iiiliu(>nce in jmblic afi'airs, au<l they wei-e cousulte(| l)v 


^1 - 






M^ :i 


ill gr?l^".^ *' p'^'5 E-f d i| 




;3£ >■ 

C ,5 ■£ c S tti I i o B i JJ. -s '. 1 2 S a i i! f 5 = S _ ^ - - = i -J s j; ■§ S . :=. I S * S I s, ; 

i -u 

11^ l«i|r 




the liigliest otticci-s of the Government; but tlie time had come 
when the people wanted the news, rather than individual opinions. 
American genius and ingenuity responded promptly and adequate- 
ly to the demand, and from the time of the civil war the develop- 
ment of the newspaper has been a marvel of science and art. The 
telegraph came into general use for the transmission of news, 
correspondents and artists were sent to the front with all the 
armies, the men employed in Washington to write their own views 
of public questions were instructed to send to their pajDers only 
a record of the great events then transpiring around them, and in 
a month, or at most a year, American journalism was well ad- 
vanced upon a new era of marvelous development. The time 
when the opinions, the power in phraseology, or the individuality 
of one man could alone make a daily newspaper a financial, liter- 
ary, or political success had passed. The press had become an 
institution, journalism a profession, and the publication of news- 
papers a practical business requiring and rewarding enterprise and 

AVith the sudden demand for more papers came rapid progress 
in the mechanical department of the business. Double cylinder 
presses capable of printing twenty thousand papers an hour were 
soon perfected, folding machines came into general use, stereo- 
typing was employed to save time, labor, and wear of type, white 
paper was made from wood pulp at greatly reduced cost, and the 
progress in all departments of the business was by leaps and bounds 
until every demand was more than supplied and new expectations 
created. From that time forward invention kept pace with every 
increase of circulation. As soon as one press was found inade- 
quate or imperfect, the manufacturers were ready to set up a 
faster and better one. As competition reduced the selling price 
of the newspaper, invention supplied every demand for the mate- 
rial of i^roduction at a reduced rate. The impetus to circulation 
imparted by the civil war created a new reading public, which rap- 
idly grew to include every person who could read and a demand 
for all the news' of the world once created would not be denied. 
The collection of news was quickly reduced to a system and per- 
fected, until to-day no event of importance occurring in any part 
of the world is omitted from the daily record of current history. 

The great cost of collecting news at the front and transmitting 
by telegraph full reports of battles during the civil war caused 
certain newspapers in New York city to enter into an arrange- 
ment to receive reports in duplicate and share expenses. Then 
the cost was further reduced by selling the news to i:)apers in other 
cities. That was the beginning of the Associated Press, a plan 


of newspaper combination that ultimatel}' made the buying and 
selling of news a great commercial enterprise. AVithin a few years 
after the close of the war this system had been developed until 
practically all the daily newspapers of the country were inter- 
ested in it or subscribers to the news collected and sold. This 
feature of the business continued to grow until agencies for the 
collection and transmission of news were established throughout 
the world. Similar associations were formed in England and on 
the continent of Europe, and news exchanged with the American 
organization. In the United States the business was developed 
until newspapers of particular sections of the country and even 
those of single States formed associations on the principle of mu- 
tual benefit for the collection of full reports of all important events 
within the territory where they circulated. At the present time 
the system has been perfected until the great news agencies of the 
country receive reports of important events from every quarter of 
the globe with a degree of promptness and accuracy rendered pos- 
sible only by thoroughness of organization and the constant exer- 
cise of the keenest intelligence. The collection of all the news 
of the world would not be possible under any other plan, but the 
American newspapers, having created a demand for the news, were 
the first to devise a system of obtaining it promptly at a cost that 
made possible the publication of daily papers at a profit in almost 
every towm in the country. Brief reports of all important events 
are transmitted by cable or telegraph to a central office in Kew 
York, Washington, or Chicago, where they are condensed or elabo- 
rated, as occasion may require, and then sent out over special tele- 
graph wires to papers all over the country that are subscribers to 
the service. The larger papers of the country, however, do not 
rely upon this service alone. They are represented by special 
correspondents not only in all the chief cities of the United States, 
but in London. Paris, Berlin, and other news centers of the Old 

The development of the newspaper into a medium for record- 
ing day by day every event of human interest was so rapid during 
the civil war and the stirring times immediately thereafter that 
many faults of form and detail remained. The journalism of that 
period was a new departure, and the men who created it had no 
precedent to guide them, but all the time there was a steady and 
intelligent effort to improve in all directions. The efforts of the 
leading men in the profession, influenced by conditions and sur- 
roundings, resulted in the creation of what were for a time known 
as schools of journalism — that is, one man set up an ideal, and 
another man strived to create a journal of another character. The 

S P "^ 

J- -A S z> 
: 2 9 o 

- o 
.2 &. 

V, ^ ^ o 

"^ O it) ~ 

3 -; s 'S 

S 3 S 

— ,,'50 

•7 3 ^ ti 

-, o ^ 
■ — '/: o tn 

C 'S ~ 

. o 
"o 6 

2 H 5 i ^ 

- — "^ ?? 

2 "^ 


! '._r,:j^;-5"5«i«Bo:a: 


aim of all "was to publish the general news of the day, but politi- 
cal iiitiiiciices were still strong enough to control editorial policy, 
and nltra-partisan and sectional views were incorporated in the 
record of events. There were still editors of great power and 
inthience in })olitics and public affairs, and they tried to shape 
the current of the new condition by the force of editorial writing. 
A number of editors, of both the old and new order, for a time 
followed the policy of subordinating to partisan politics all other 
features of the newspaper. They sought to make the j^i'ess the 
dominant influence in politics, and to do that they presented in 
their journals only one side of public and party questions. They 
undertook to think and to reason for their readers, and their par- 
tisan and sectional views were reflected in the news columns of 
their papers. So long as party feeling ran high this style of jour- 
nalism w^as popular and successful, but the newspaper, being in 
the nature of an educator of the masses, soon set the people to 
thinking for themselves, and created a demand for the news of 
public and political events without the color of individual opinion. 
The change from intense partisanship to partial or complete inde- 
pendence of editorial utterance has come slowly, and is still under 
way. To-day there is no great daily newspaper in the United 
States so entirely subservient to a political party as to support any 
man or measure without question or protest. Politicians fear this 
spirit of independence, and therein lies the secret of the great 
power of the ])ress in public affairs. The most powerful and suc- 
cessful journals are those that combine absolute fairness and hon- 
esty w'ith ind(q)endence. 

So-called schools of journalism, in the rapid development of 
the profession during the past twenty years, have merged into one 
general system or ])lan, which is to get all the news and publish it. 
Journals may be graded or classified by their treatment of news 
and their judgment as to the intelligence and moral character of 
the reading public. 

A detailed record of the development of the mechajiical part 
of the newspaper business during the past thirty years would be 
almost a synopsis of all progress in science and art. The news- 
paper printing press of to-day, which prints, cuts, folds, and counts 
ninety-six thousand papers per hour, with one man to operate it, 
is the mechanical wonder of the age. It is justly regarded as the 
greatest piece of machinery that the ingenuity of man has yet 
devised. Type is no longer set by hand in the making of a news- 
paper, the letters being formed from the metal direct and cast in 
finished lines by machinery. 

Studying the perfection and magnitude of the newspaper print- 

iC ^^ ~ 

« _S £, i£ 

If S| I 

S > ^ 'f g 

g -3 fe E ? 


3? C 


i-- 33 



'4 '3 





4 " 




t- 2 



O ;<£ 



'"^ c 



2 a 


St_, ;^ 

— o en 

ta — 2 — 2 

~ D »r m" 2 

i< c3 w; fee .Q 


o -5 fe .5 


a; « t o 

S S^'S 00 

Si be o ° 

W C3 .S O 
-^ I "^ O 
2 2 -!<" 


'^ ^ 

S <= 

3 =3 

cc oc g- 3 
'^ • ^^ 

TOL. LVI. 16 


ing press of to-day it is difficult to realize that little more than 
half a century of tiuic and invention stand between this piece of 
mechanism, that seems to work with human intelligence, and the 
AVashington hand press, upon which the production of printed 
sheets was a matter of slow and arduous labor. The great metro- 
politan newspapers of to-day are printed by monster machines 
weighing thirty tons, composed of four thousand separate pieces 
of steel, iron, brass, wood, and cloth. In the great printing-press 
factory of K. Hoe & Co. eighteen months' time is required to 
build one of the modern presses, and the cost of it would have more 
than paid for all the newspaper printing presses in use in the 
United States at the beginning of the century. These monster 
machines are known as quadruple presses, which means that four 
complete presses have been built into one. When in operation, 
white paper is fed to them automatically from rolls, and this paper, 
with a speed greater than the eye can follow, is converted into 
the finished newspaper, printed on both sides, cut into sheets, pasted 
together, folded, counted, and deposited in files of fifty or one 
hundred at one side of the press. White paper is fed to the press 
from two points, and finished newspapers are delivered at two 
places on the opposite side. An idea of the speed with which the 
work is done may be gained by watching the printed papers fall 
from the folder. J'hey drop so fast that the eye, no matter how 
well trained, can not count them. These presses have a capacity 
of ninety-six thousand four-, six-, or eight-page papers per hour, 
and forty-eight thousand ten-, twelve-, or sixteen-page papers. 
Their mechanism is so perfect and so carefully adjusted that the 
breaking of a narrow band of tape in the folder, the loosening of 
a nut, the slightest bending of a rod, friction in a bearing, or any 
other derangement, no matter how slight, is instantly apparent to 
the skilled machinist in charge. 

The white paper used in making the newspapers of to-(hiy is 
manufactured from wood pulp and is put up in long rolls, wound 
about an iron cylinder that can be adjusted in place at one end 
of the press. These rolls contain from two to four miles of paper, 
and weigh from eight hundred to twelve luuidi-ed pounds each. 
As soon as one roll is used up another is lifted into place, the loos(> 
ends of the two are pasted together, and, after a stop of less than 
two minutes, the great press is again belching forth finished news- 
papers at the rate of sixteen hundred a minute, or two hundred and 
sixty-six each second. 

Almost every invention and device of recent years in coimec- 
fion with the use of electricity is in some way utilized in tlu^ pro- 
duction and disti-ilmtioii of the daily newspapers. The evolution 


of journalism liaviiig iiiially established the fact that the chief 
function of the daily newspaper is to publish the news of the world, 
the problem of the business is how to obtain the news surely, accu- 
rately, and promptly. The ocean cable has taken the place of the 
sailing vessel, the trained correspondent has succeeded the occa- 
sional contributor, the electric telegraph and telephone have en- 
tirely superseded the mail in the transmission of domestic news, 
and every event of human interest throughout the civilized world 
is placed before millions of readers within a few hours of its actual 

The collection of news is not restricted by any question of the 
cost of obtaining it. Fifty years ago it was considered a remark- 
able feat for one newspaper to obtain information of an impor- 
tant event in advance of competitors. To-day it is a matter of 
comment if any newspaper fails to publish all the news desired by 
its readers. If a war is fought on any part of the earth there are 
reporters on the firing line, and no expense is spared in collecting 
and transmitting by the quickest method available full reports of 
any event of world-wide importance. To-day the hiring of spe- 
cial trains, the stringing of a special line of telegraph wire, the 
charter of a ship, the fitting out of an exploring expedition, or any 
other great enterprise in the way of collecting information for the 
newspapers of the United States, is so much a part of the everyday 
business of journalism that such things are accepted as a matter 
of course, or cause no more than a passing comment. 

Half a century ago the result of a national convention or elec- 
tion was not known all over the country for weeks afterward. In 
the case of a national convention to-day, telegraph wires lead from 
the convention hall into the offices of all the newspapers in the 
larger cities. An operator sits near the platform of the presiding 
officer, and with a muffled key he sends over the wire a full re- 
port of the proceedings, with a description of every incident of 
interest. At the other end of the line is an operator at a type- 
casting machine receiving the report and putting it into lines as 
fast as received. When a candidate for President has been nomi- 
nated, extra editions of the daily papers are selling on the streets 
of cities a thousand miles away almost before the applause for the 
winning man has died out in the convention hall. The people of 
every city and town in the United States where a newspaper is 
published would feel themselves cheated of their rights if they 
failed to receive news of the result of an election by midnight of 
the day on which the ballots were cast. 

In enterprise and originality the journalism of America leads 
the world at the end of the nineteenth century. As a profession, 


it commands, with alluring prospects of fame and fortune, the 
services of men of genius and learning. Those who enter it from 
choice succeed or fail quickly. It is a life of activity, a work where 
energy and intelligence are essential qualifications, and honor and 
honesty are certain of reward. There is no enduring place in the 
profession for hypocrisy, indolence, or mediocrity. 



Georges Perrot is one of the leading art writers and teachers of France. Born in 
1832, not far from Paris, he was graduated from the Ecole Xormale about 1855, and was 
then for three years at the French School at Athens. From his return to the present day 
he has occupied, with honor and distinction, many positions in the world of letters. At 
present he is a memher of the Institut, an officer of the Legion d'Honneur, a professor k la 
Faculte des Lettres de Paris, and the director of the Ecole Norniale Superieure. He is best 
known to scholars outside of France by the magnificent work on the History of Art in An- 
tiquity, which he is writing, assisted by Charles Chipiez, architecte du gouvernement, and of 
which seven superb quartos have already appeared. (Hachette et Cie.) In 1891, by a de- 
cree of the Minister of Public Instruction, the study of the history of the fine arts was intro- 
duced into a section of the studies pursued at the lycees. In an article in the Revue des 
Deux Mondes, July 15, 1899, Perrot pleads for an increase of the time assigned to the study 
and for its introduction into other parts of the curriculum. 

I have translate<l those pages of the aiticle which are of general interest as a contribu- 
tion to a subject which is deservedly attracting the attention of American institutions of 
learning. D. Cady Eaton. 

"\TTRITTEN and spoken language, the language of which the 
^ ^ signs are words, is not the only language which man uses 
to convey his ideas. There is also the language of forms, which, 
with no less clearness and force, conveys the conceptions of the in- 
tellect and the sentiments of the heart. We study the history and 
the literature of bygone people for the purpose of acquiring a 
better knowledge of ourselves, and this knowledge is secured by 
becoming conscious of the different states of mind, to use a modern 
expression, through which our ancestors have passed. Even the 
most elementary and the most remote of these successive condi- 
tions are, unconsciously perhaps, represented in the depths of our 
being by beliefs and customs for which the present order and prog- 
ress of civilization can not account.* 

* The highest education consists in the presentation and in the aocejjtance of the purest 
ideas and the highest ideals of all ages, whether they be presented in written or spoken 
words, in songs of voices or sounds of instnmients, in plastic forms or glowing pictures, in 
humble lives or glorious actions. The well-educated man should be the prodnct and the 
epitome of the best thoughts and sentiments the woild has ])rodnced, for he carries the 
re8ponsil)ility of past centuries. 


Not to go back to the Quaternary period or to the cave dwellers, 
there are many of these mental ideas or conditions which would 
remain hidden from the inquiry of the historian if he were limited 
to written testimony. One example may suffice: the discoveries 
of Schliemann, at Troy, Mycense, and Tiryns have rescued from ob- 
livion a primitive Greece of which the Greeks themselves had pre- 
served but a faint remembrance. Thus has been given to the 
Homeric epoch a background of many centuries. Now this Greece, 
contemporary of the Thutmoses and the Ramses of Egypt, anterior 
to not only Grecian history but even to Grecian tradition, could 
not write, but could work and use stone; could hew wood and fash- 
ion it for carpentry; could mold and bake clay; could melt and 
hammer lead, bronze, gold, and silver; and could carve ivory. 
Every bit of material fashioned by the instruments of this period 
has the value of an authentic document. How society was consti- 
tuted, the life that was led, what notions were held of the hereafter 
— all these things are revealed by the marks the hands of man have 
left upon everything he touched. The colossal walls of Tiryns, 
the majestic funeral cupolas of Mycenae, the divisions of the royal 
abodes of which the outlines can still be traced on the surface of 
the soil, and the arrangement of the sepulchres hidden beneath it 
all testify. So, too, the weapons, the instruments, the vases, and 
the jewels which have been found scattered about amid the ruins 
of the buildings or buried in the tombs. Thanks to all these monu- 
ments, we are beginning to recognize in a shadow which year by 
year glows with a brighter light the features which characterized 
the world of Achaean heroes of which the image, transformed by 
oral tradition and singularly enlarged by power of invention, is re- 
flected in the Iliad and the Odyssey. 

Erom these obscure and remote ages let us transport ourselves 
to the Greece of Pisistratus, of Pericles, and of Alexander. In- 
structors of youth tell of the losses which have been made, and of 
how small a part of the literary work of Greek genius has escaped 
the great shipwreck of antiquity. Should they not also indicate 
where precious supplements of information may be found to fill the 
voids of written tradition? There are many variations of impor- 
tant myths, hardly mentioned in passing by obscure epitomizers of 
the lower centuries, which have furnished to ceramic artists subjects 
for pictures which make us acquainted with personages and with 
episodes of which writers have hardly left a trace. But even if we 
had the works of the cyclic poets, all of which have perished; if 
we had the lyric poets, of whom only Pindar has survived, and 
Bacchylides whose fragments are to-day the joy of Hellenists; if 
we had the whole of tragedy, of- which we have but the remnants; 


it Avc had all uf that coiiicdv wliirh is rcprcsciitctl Ijv Aristophanes 
alone; if we had all (d' the more ancictit comedy, all of the ndddlc 
period and all of the new, with ]\Ienaiider who since the Renais- 
sance is the regret of all critics of fine apprehension — all this po- 
etry could not exhaust the multiple fecimdity and the j)rodii>ious 
richness of the imagination whi(di created it. if malevolent For- 
tune had decreed the destruction of every hit of (ii-eek ]dastic art 
we should have been condemned to per])etual ignorance of many 
aspects and methods of the Greek soul. Is there anything in litera- 
ture worth the little clay figures of Tanagra in making clear how 
the Greeks apprehended and enjoyed female beauty: how they 
loved it not only in the noble and serious types of a Pallas or an 
Aphrodite, but even as presented by the humble inhabitants of 
little villages in the graceful abandon of their everyday life and 
in the liberty of their most ordinary attitudes? If we base an 
opinion of the religion of the Greeks only upon the epithets used 
by poets in defining the gods and upon actions they attributed to 
them, we run the risk of judging wrongly. In contemplating their 
images we obtain clearer notions of the ideas associated with each 
divine type. Alas! we do not possess the great works of Phidias 
which according to men of authority made men more religious — 
the Athene of the Parthenon and the Zeus of Olympia. But even 
in the reduced copies of these two masterpieces which have reached 
down to our time we can divine how the master expressed in the 
one the idea of calm and luminous intelligence and of supreme wis- 
dom, and in the other the idea of that sovereign force in repose 
and of that omnipotence, tempered by goodness, which were con- 
ceived to exist in the sovereign of the universe, th(» father of gods 
and men. 

In subsequent paragraphs Perrot imagines the Greek statues 
of the Louvre thus addressing a classical student: 

"Young man, you who are studying Greece in Ilomei- and 
Plato, in Sophocles and Herodotus, do not pass us by so quickly. 
We also belong to that Cireece which you discern and which \n\\ 
seek in their writings, of which not without diflficulty you decii)her 
the prose and the verse. To understand and to love us, to read in 
our features the thoughts of which we are the expression, to seize 
in the modeling of our flesh and in the pure outline of onr limhs 
the secret of the genius which created us, no gi-ammar nor dic- 
tionary is needed; only apply yourself to the education of yoni- eye. 
In this exercise, in this apprenticeship, yon will find a pleasure 
which will become more and more keen as yon become more ca- 
pable of perceiving rapidly the finest gradations. If you aspire to 
become ati authorized iiit( ■ri)rcter of Greek genins, do not fear that 


joii niaj be losing time. W'Jicii, hy long and aifcctionate inter- 
course, jou shall have sufficiently entered into our intimacy to be 
able at any given hour to evoke in your si)irit, as clearly as if we 
stood before you, a vision of the forms whicli shall have become 
dear to you, then the images M'hich shall be awakened in your 
memories when you read the poets will be akin to those which the 
same recitals and the same epithets suggested to the Greeks who 
saw us born. To them you will be drawn by similarity of impres- 
sion. You will be nearer to them, nearer to thinking and feeling 
after their fashion, at least by moments, than the most subtle gram- 
marian or the most learned Hellenist who never has seen us." 

Turning from Greece to Italy, Perrot derives a no less strik- 
ing lesson from the statues of Roman emperors: 

" Is there a lesson, though given by the most learned professor, 
that could cause to live before us all the life of the Rome of the 
Caesars as do these effigies? In the long succession of portraits 
which embrace three centuries of history the differences of times 
and of men are contrasted more keenly and more vividly than in 
the recitals of ancient authors or in the dissertations of modern 
erudites. Augustus and Tiberius, Constantine and Theodosius, all 
bore the same title — ' imperator ' ; all were called consuls, Caesars, 
Augusti, patres patrice, etc. Nevertheless, from the first to the 
fourth centuries the supreme power was greatly modified. Vol- 
umes have been written to explain the change, but there is nothing 
that makes it so clear as the comparison of the images of these 
])rinces. Augustus, in perhaps the most beautiful of all his statues, 
called de Prima Porta, has his head, arms, legs, and feet bare. 
Over the soldier's short tunic he wears a cuirass, and over it is 
thrown the military mantle of command. He is represented as 
supreme chief haranguing his troops. Another statue may repre- 
sent him as a simple citizen, clothed with the toga and holding in 
his hand the manuscript of the discourse he proposes reading to 
the senate. The statues still show forth the Roman Republic, at 
least the customs and the style of it. Most vividly is the spirit and 
also the deception of the system perceived which, while investing 
a single individual with a power almost limitless, affects for two 
centuries a preservation of ancient liberties. Turn from these to 
an image of one of the successors of Diocletian, one who preferred 
to reside in Constantinople, the new capital of the empire. Do 
not seek his image in one of the ceremonial statues where, by force 
of routine, the sculptor may perchance have preserved classic rules; 
but in monuments of another order, where the artist kept closer 
to reality, in miniatures adorning manuscripts, in mosaics, in ivory 
diptychs, etc. There you will find figures which have nothing left 


of the simplicity and nobility wliich Rome borrowed from Greece, 
but figures which in some particulars recall the old art of Asia, 
and in others already announce the art of the middle ages. The 
head is encircled with a diadem. The body and the limbs are en- 
tirely hidden by clinging draperies which are very long and very 
narrow. The materials which form this species of case are deco- 
rated from top to bottom with rich embroideries in the shape of 
medallions, flowers, animals, and even persons. There is no more 
deception; we are no longer in Rome; fictions so long preserved 
have finally disappeared; the empire has turned into an Oriental 

■' Between the two extremes of the series, how many degrees 
are there which furnish the very best commentaries of history? 
The heads of all the Caesars, even those of Claudius, the accidental 
scholar, and of Caligula, the wicked and witty fool, are aristocratic. 
They show the nobility and the pride of race. You recognize in 
them the descendants of those grand patrician families which at 
first seemed to hold exclusively the right to give masters to the 
Romans. With Vespasian, scion of a middle-class family pushing 
its way into second-class public positions, the advent of a new order 
is evident. Vespasian has the round and smooth, double-chinned 
face of the chief clerk of a commercial or banking establishment. 
Trajan has the features of a soldier who has probably pushed his 
way to the front from the ranks. Hadrian, who turns his head 
to hear the better, whose bright eyes gleam even in the marble, 
whose half-opened mouth seems in the act of speech, shows the fea- 
tures of a learned and intelligent scholar. Marcus Aurelius, with 
his bristling hair and beard, would be taken for a Greek philoso- 
pher. In Caracalla's looks there is derangement. His eye be- 
trays that murderous and fantastic frenzy which seized more than 
one emperor, especially of those who from early youth had been 
exposed to the temptations of absolute power.* 

" ISTot to personages alone do pictured monuments give life. 

* There is a bust of Julius Caesar in England of which a cast or a copy should be by 
the side of every expounder of the Commentaries. The presence of the bust would give 
new life to the narrative, for there is more life in the marble than in the writing. 
There are in the Louvre, placed side by side, three representations of Nero which tell 
the story of the man more graphically than the pages of Suetonius. The first represents 
the youth, whose thoughts are pure, hopes bright, and resolves noble. The second shows 
the conflict with evil and the beginning of the triumph of sin. The third is so monstrous 
in its brutality and lust that it must have been taken but a short time before the catastro- 
phe which terminated the matricide's career. Historians n)ay detail the circumstances of 
tiie fall of Fiome, philosophers may investigate the causes which led to it, but tiiat hideous 
face in the Louvre tells the whole story with a force so startling, so instantaneous, that his- 
tory and philosophy seem weak and wanting. 


The same character of sensible reality is imparted to the frame and 
to the surroundings of the picture, to all the theater where these ac- 
tors played their parts. Of this truth no one of our teachers, when 
I was a collegian, seemed to have a suspicion. There was not an 
illustration in the cold and dry compendiums which were placed in 
our hands. I can almost ask myself if, when I studied Greek and 
Roman history, I was really convinced that Sparta and Athens, 
Rome and Carthage had actually existed. I certainly did not know 
how or where to place them in space, what idea to have of their 
situation, or of the outlines made by the ridges of their walls, their 
houses, and their temples. All these cities were to me vague shad- 
ows, floating between heaven and earth. No one of them answered 
to a distinct and defined form. 

" If this be the case with classical antiquity, in spite of the color 
and splendor of the narratives of its writers, how much more diffi- 
cult is it to know and understand France of the middle ages when 
condemned to study it in its literary work alone! The literature 
of the period is partly in debased Latin, partly in early French. 
The French of the day was not the language of the thinkers. The 
deep thought of the age is not to be found in minstrelsy and bal- 
lads. It must be asked of the learned, of philosophers, of theo- 
logians, and of sacred writers. But to follow them in the subtle 
analyses and in the excessive complications of symbolism, in which 
they delight, requires mental efforts which are made all the more 
laborious by the artificial character of the church Latin, which no 
longer continued to renew itself at the source of popular speech. 
It is impossible to see how such works, in spite of their value to 
erudition, can be called to take part in the education of the young. 
It is for this reason that lately, by a judicious innovation, a discreet 
place has been made in the curriculum for histories and poems 
written in the common language, for the Chanson de Roland, and 
for the works of Villehardouin and Joinville. But the student 
can only read these in translations, or in those adaptations which 
so modernize the language as to leave but a little of its original 
flavor, and which therefore make but an imperfect contact between 
the original work and the mind of the reader. But supposing the 
scholar capable of mastering the original text : can its formless and 
superabundant prose, or the tiresome monotone of its flowing dis- 
sonances, give him emotions which have the vivacity of those which 
a page of Tacitus or a song of Virgil gives to those who know 
even a modicum of Latin? Can they have the power to excite the 
imagination in the same degree as any strong and concise sentence 
of the historian, any sonorous and glowing verse of the Roman 



" It is only exceptionally and as by flashes that the writings of 
the middle ages give the impression of true beauty. The concep- 
tions are often grand, but the expression is always weak and drag- 
ging. On the other hand, Roman or Gothic churches are not lesa 
beautiful after their manner than Greek temples. Their beauty 
is of another fashion, but many souls are touched more deeply. 
They manifest no less clearly the power of the religious faith which 
constructed them. The particular character of Christian faith is 
shown with singular clearness in their majesty, in the elevation of 
their vaults, in the half lights which flood them, and in the thou- 
sands of figures which populate and animate every surface. As 
in Greece, the sculptor co-operates intelligently and docilely with 
the architect and has occupied no less happily the allotted fields. 
As Phidias and Alcamenes represented on the pediments and friezes 
of Doric temples the great gods of Greece and the local myths of 
Athens and Olympia, so anonymous masters, called to decorate the 
cathedrals of the middle ages, have placed impressive statues on 
the sides and in the voussoirs of the portals, in the open galleries 
which run along the facades, on the top of the pinnacles which 
throng the roof — in fact, everywhere where space is offered. These 
statues, distributed in an order regulated by doctrine and tradition, 
show forth the Saviour, the Virgin, saints and angels, prophets and 
apostles, and hosts of personages and scenes suggested by Holy 
"Writ or by local and popular legends. Among these images there 
are many at Bourges, Chartres, Rlieims, Amiens, and Notre Dame 
de Paris, which are marvels of severe elegance, of chaste and 
haughty grace, and of lofty moral nobility. This wonderful statu- 
ary has but lately been investigated, exposed, and studied, but al- 
ready it would be difficult to find a connoisseur unwilling to com- 
pare with the most boasted statues of antiquity that admirable 
image of the teaching Christ of the west portal of Amiens, to 
which the popular surname has been attached of le Beau Dieu 
d^ Amiens. 

" For evident reasons, French sculpture of the thirteenth cen- 
tury did not, as did Greek sculpture, devote itself to the study and 
reproduction of the nude. It denied itself this attraction. All 
figures are clad; but beneath the drapery, which is in fine masses 
with large folds, the outline and the movement of form are indi- 
cated with precision. The principal interest and the rare origi- 
nality, however, of this sculpture is that it is perhaps the most ex- 
pressive that has ever existed. This expressiveness appears in the 
general effect of the pose, in the disposition of the drapery, but 
especially in the character which the artist has succeeded in giving 
to the features of the face. 


" The august mysteries of the Christian dogma, the poetry of 
the Old and of the New Testament, the triumphant deaths of mar- 
tyrs, the miracles of saints and their infinite charity — these things 
which the middle ages failed to put into clear and intelligible words 
are fully rendered in sculpture. The work of the chisel is large and 
firm. Difficulties are not sought, nor are they feared. Whatever 
be the material, the form is sure. To understand how superior 
the plastic is to the literary work, and to measure the distance, 
compare the Amiens statue with the portraits the authors of the 
Mysteries endeavor to draw of the Son of God. ' What can be 
more flat than these poor verses, which are nevertheless of the six- 
teenth century? The authors had good intentions and an appre- 
hension of what should be done, but they were betrayed by the lan- 
guage in which they wrote. The sculptors of the thirteenth cen- 
tury, on the contrary, who possessed fully the grammar of their 
art, expressed all they felt, and have left us the most divine images 
of Jesus Christ in existence.' * 

" Italy of the Renaissance is quite unintelligble to any one who 
has not measured the place held by art in the preoccupations not 
only of artists who practice it, but of all men of all conditions — of 
princes, nobles, tradesmen, and of citizens of most humble occu- 
pations. ISTo one in any rank is without a passionate love for plas- 
tic beauty. This love was Italy's life and Italy's death. She died 
of it, because all her sap was consumed in satisfying it. It made 
her indifferent to her dismemberment, to the hard yoke of her 
tyrants, to the loss of her political liberties, and of her independ- 
ence. But, at the same time, it constituted the intensity of her 
life which w^as exhausted and renewed again in the ardor with 
which she pursued her ideal and in her endeavors to realize it under 
all its aspects. Let him who would wish to obtain an exact idea 
of this condition reside for a while in Mantua, in Parma, in Sienna, 
in Florence, or in any other less-known city which nevertheless 
had its local school of art, its architects, its sculptors, its painters, 
some of whom, though they only worked for their native city, were 
not far from manifesting genius. f 

" The written history of the seventeenth century and its rich 
literature can not alone give an idea of the situation occupied by 
Louis XIV in .Europe when he was admired, imitated, or rather 
servilely copied, as pre-eminently the type of the modern king even 
by those who hated him the most. After two centuries, have we 

* E. Male. Revue Universitaire, Third Annee, 1. i, p. 15. 

f Raphael's Madonnas save the reputation of the papal see of the sixteenth century, for 
pontiffs who cherished such pure and gentle representations could not have been so corrupt 
as Luther's partisans assert. 


not seen liis wonderful prestige still potent in dominating tlie sickly 
mind of Louis II of Bavaria? In his desire to copy his chosen 
model Louis ruined himself in building palaces. In this folly he 
showed discrimination. Louis XIV, when dying, may have ac- 
cused himself of having indulged too great a love for building; but 
his edifices, with their majestic grandeur and the opulence of their 
decoration, gave that royal life a frame which had much to do with 
the dazzling which all Europe experienced when in the presence 
of le Boi Soleil. In order to recognize and experience, though 
but for a moment, a little of the impression felt by all contempo- 
raries, Versailles must be visited ; the apartments of the palace, the 
terraces, and the alleys of the park must be traversed. Thus will 
be thrown upon this historic figure a light far more brilliant and 
true than could possibly be the result of learning by heart accounts 
of all the campaigns of Turenne or Conde, or all the clauses of the 
treaties of Kimegue and Ryswick. 

" The same may be said of the eighteenth century, of which 
only an incomplete idea can be had without a knowledge of its art. 
This century, to which Voltaire gave the note, seems to have had 
no sentiment of poetry. Down to the time of Andre Chenier 
everything called poetry was no more than rhymed prose. The 
imagination, however, did not lose its rights. Like a stream which 
changes its bed, it withdrew from literature to flow into the arts 
of design. There it gives evidence of invention and of light and 
spontaneous grace. Architects adopt plans of happy arrangement. 
They employ forms of rare elegance both in the elements of con- 
struction and in the ornaments which decorate them. Such sculp- 
tors as Capperi and Houdon give to portraiture a marvelous inten- 
sity of life, while the terra cottas of Clodion, with their fantastic 
and voluptuous charm, recall the clay modelers of antiquity. Such 
painters as Greuze, Lancret, and Boucher spread before the eyes 
living idyls, while Watteau and Frangonard conjure dreams of 
ideal Cytheras, of a chimerical paradise where reign eternal youth 
and eternal desire. The politics of our kings and of our ministers 
of the period is but a succession of faults and weaknesses. The 
best concerted plans come to naught. The most brilliant victory 
produces no useful results. If France, in spite of so many reverses, 
still held her supremacy in Europe, she owed it to her writers and 
to her artists." 

Perrot's arguments might be used with even greater force in 
reference to those notions which have had no Comines, no Join- 
ville, no Froissart, no Villehardouin, but the history of whose 
civilization may be traced in monuments along the Rhine and the 
Danube, the Ems and the Elbe. In the last part of the article 


Perrot considers the best methods of giving the desired instruction. 
However interesting and valuable his suggestions may be in com- 
munities where the instruction has already been established, it is 
evident that there must first be a conviction of the value and neces- 
sity of such studies and the determination to have them started. 
Methods are not diificult to devise, and Avill vary with national and 
individual tastes. That American colleges of thirty, forty, or fifty 
years ago should have objected to the introduction of the history 
of the fine arts into their curricula is easily understood. Art in 
any form was regarded by the l^ew England mind as an emana- 
tion of the devil, and the New England mind controlled American 
colleges. Why the repugnance continues to exist is harder to un- 
derstand. It may subsist from ignorance, from prejudice, or from 
conservatism. Conservatism may still regard all information to 
be derived from art as objectionable. Prejudice may still be 
strongly fixed in the notion that written and spoken words are the 
only vehicles of instruction, and that the arts are useless and idle 
vanities, while ignorance may be awaiting demonstration which will 
have to be strong and conclusive to awake it from self-satisfied 
apathy. May the good words of Perrot help on the cause and ac- 
celerate the time when the best and the fullest education will be 
offered by the American university! 


By T. B. WILLSON, M. A. 

ALMOST everybody knows that observatories are the places 
-^^- from which standard time is sent out and corrected daily 
or hourly. But comparatively few have more than the vaguest 
idea of the means used at the observatories for obtaining it. 

Probably the majority of people suppose that the observatories 
obtain the correct time from the sun. When the average man 
wishes to give his watch the highest praise he says, " It regulates 
the sun," not being aAvare that a w^atch which would keep with 
the sun around the year would have to be nearly as bad as Sam 
Weller's. The farmer may safely decide when to go in to dinner 
by the sun, but if th« mariner was as confident that the sun marked 
always the correct time as the farmer is he would be sure to be 
at times two or three hundred miles from where he thought he 
was. In other words, the sun — that is, a sundial — is only correct 
on a few days in each year, and during the intervening times gets 
as far as a whole quarter hour fast or slow. 


These variations of the sun from uniform time caused no end 
of trouble between the astronomers and the fine clockmakers be- 
fore it was discovered that sun time is subject to such irregulari- 
ties. The better the clock, the worse it often seemed to go. 

But as the variations in sun time are now accurately known, 
correct time might be obtained from the sun by making proper 
allowance, were it not for the difficulty of observing its position, 
with sufficient exactness. The large disk of the sun can not be 
located so perfectly as can the single point which a star makes. 
For this reason astronomers depend almost wholly upon the stars 
for obtaining accurate time. It is the method of doing this which 
we propose to describe. 

There are several hundred stars whose positions have been es- 
tablished with the greatest accuracy by the most careful observa- 
tions at a number of the principal observatories of the world. 
If a star's exact position is known, it can readily be calculated 
when it will jiass the meridian of any given place — that is, the in- 
stant it will cross a north-and-south line through the place. The 
data regarding these stars are all published in the nautical alma- 
nacs, which are got out by several different observatories for the 
use of navigators and all others who have uses for them. These 
stars are known as " clock stars." 

Every observatory is provided with at least one, or, better, 
several clocks that are very accurate indeed. Every appliance 
and precaution which science can suggest is resorted to to make 
these clocks accurate. The workmanship is, of course, very fine. 
What is known as the '' retaining click " prevents their losing a 
single beat while being wound. The small variations in the length 
of the pcndidum which changes of temperature- would cause are 
offset by compensation. The rise of the mercury in the pendulum 
bob, if the weather grows warmer, shortens the pendulum pre- 
cisely as much as the expansion of its rod lengthens it, and con- 
versely if it becomes colder. Such clocks, too, are set on stone 
piers built up from below the surface of the ground and wholly 
independent of the building itself. Often the clocks are made 
with air-tight cases, and sometimes are placed in tightly closed 
chambers, only to be entered when absolutely necessary. Some 
fine clocks even have appliances for offsetting barometric changes, 
but those affect such clocks less than other influences or imperfec- 
tions which can not be accounted for, and thus they are seldom 
provided against. 

The astronomer's principal clock — the one he uses in all his 
calculations — marks what is known as sidereal, not ordinary, time. 
The revolution of the earth in its orbit sets the sun back in its 


place in the heavens at the rate of abont four minutes a day, or 
one whole day in a year, so that this clock, indicating star time, 
gains this amount and is only with ordinary clocks once a year. 
After it is once adjusted, no attempt is made to regulate it ex- 
actly, as the astronomer would better calculate its differences than 
disturb its regulation, always provided its rate is very uniform and 
accurately known. 

One or more of the other clocks, however, are made to show 
ordinary time, and corrected by observations taken every few days. 
It is from this clock that the standard time is sent out. 

It is possible to connect any of these clocks telegraphically 
with an instrument in the observatory, known as a chronograph. 
It consists of a cylinder with a sheet of paper around it, on which 

u 1 r— 

A Short Section from the Paper Band of the Chronograph Cylinder, showing Tra- 
cings OF 1'en connected with Clocks: 1, seconds of .sidereal clock; 2. Loth sidereal 
and common clocks ; 3-10, the traciny:s of the mean-time clock fall steadily behind the 
other ; 11. sidereal only ; 12, connected with observer's key. The extra teeth show when 
a star passed each of the five spider lines. At the extreme right is a " rattle," put in to 
show where the observation is on the cylinder. 

rests a pen connected with the telegraphic instrument which fol- 
lows the beats of the clock. The cylinder is turned slowly by 
clockwork, and the pen, carried slowly along by a screw, describes 
a spiral on the paper with jogs or teeth in it about a quarter of 
an inch apart, caused by the beats of the clock. In this way the 
astronomer secures a visible record of the beating of his clock, 
or rather of the movements of his telegraphic recorder. Thus, 
if he has another key on the same circuit with the clock, con- 
nected with his chronograph recorder, and should touch it between 
the beats of his clock, it would put in an extra jog or tooth on his 
record, and it will show, what he could not have told in any other 
way, in just what part of the second he touched this key, whether 
in the first or last part of the second, and precisely how far from 


either end — that is, he can determine fractions of a second with 
great nicety. 

As a matter of fact, he has such a key at the telescope which 
he uses to make his observations in taking time, so that when he 
wishes to record the precise instant in which anything takes place 
wliich he is viewing through his telescope he has but to press the 
key in his hand and an extra tooth will be put into the record 
which the clock is making, somewhere among the regular teeth 
put in by the beating of the clock. Later, when he takes out the 
sheet he can see just where the tooth came, and so at what instant 
it was. If, now, he knows exactly what the instant was according 
to the true time as given in his almanacs — that is, what his clock 
ought to have shown at that instant — he can tell how nearly right 
his clock is. Once knowing how this clock is, it is a simple calcu- 
lation to find how the clock which sends the signals is running, and 
to alter it if needed in a manner we shall describe later. 

The observations the astronomer makes use of to determine 
these instants of time are upon the " clock stars." He uses a 
rather small telescope, known as a transit. It is placed with the 
nicest accuracy in a north-and-south line. It can turn over ver- 
tically, but can not move sideways out of its line. Its alignment 
is kept perfect by occasionally sighting some small mark a few 
rods from the observatory, either north or south. 

If the astronomer points this transit, say, halfway up the south- 
ern heavens and sees a star pass across the center of its field he 
knows that that instant gives, as it were, the " noon mark " of 
that star. If it is one of the " clock stars," he knows by his tables 
what that instant of time is — should be — by his clock. 

We have seen what his means are of comparing his clock and 
his observations. iJut observe, now, how much pains he takes to 
get the most exact observations. 

To begin with, he must have calculated to a nicety his loca- 
tion. The director of an observatory always knows where he is 
located in a sense that few other men do. The accuracy of a large 
part of his observations of any kind depends on his first having 
determined tlie latitude and longitude of his observatory within a 
very few feet. Then the data given by his tables are all modi- 
fied, and adapted to conform to his locality. 

There are stretched across in the eyepiece of his transit five 
spider lines. The central one is on the central line of the field 
of his instrument. In observing a star for time the astronomer 
watches it as it is carried by the rotation of the earth past each 
of these spider lines, and presses his key — that is, makes a record 
— as it crosses each line. Taking the average of these five ob- 


servations, lie makes the possible error very small. But, in addi- 
tion to this, lie also usually makes observations on at least four 
clock stars, wliicli gives liim twenty observations to average up 
and determine by. As lie inspects the record of these observa- 
tions which has gone upon the chronograph sheet along with the 
clock beats he is able to determine, after proper calculations, how 
his clock stands. 

Such observations are made every three or four evenings, and 
thus the clocks are not given time to get far out of the Avay. It 
is not usual for a good clock to show a variation of more than half 
a second. If the astronomer finds that his clock which is send- 
ing the time is running a fraction of a second slow, he goes to it 
and lays on the top of the pendulum bob a minute clipping of 
metal, which is equivalent to shortening the pendulum an infini- 
tesimal amount. When he takes his next observation he discov- 
ers how his clock has been affected, and again treats it accord- 
ingly. Thus the time that is sent out automatically by the clock 
is kept always correct within a small fraction of a second. Those 
who receive the time sometimes arrange electro-magnets near the 
pendulums of their clocks, which act with the beats of the observa- 
tory clock, and their attraction is enough to hold or accelerate 
the pendulums as needed to make them synchronize with the ob- 
servatory clock. 

It will be seen that the means of obtaining exact time involve 
a very considerable outlay, and that the services of highly trained 
men are needed. The public is thus greatly indebted to the rail- 
roads, telephone companies, and other corporations which usually 
bear the expense of securing standard time. It is probable, how- 
ever, that from motives of scientific pride no observatory would 
undertake to charge for this anything like what would be exacted 
for such rare service in any department of the commercial world. 

It is worth while to note that even with such perfect clocks 
and favorable conditions it is still impossible to secure perfect time- 
keeping. Add to this the fact that it is not usual for those who 
send out the time, after it has been received from the observatory, 
to pay much heed to variations, even of several seconds, in their 
master clocks, and we see why it is a disheartening task to keep 
the best watch as near the second as the owner would fain have it. 
In the first place, the watch could hardly be made to keep such 
time if kept still in an unchanging temperature; secondly, it is 
still less capable of it when subjected to the jolting and changes 
of temperature it encounters when carried; and, thirdly, the 
means of obtaining time with sufiicient exactitude are rarely avail- 
able to the general public. 

TOL. LTI. 18 



By W. E. DE EIEMER, M. A. 

^ I ^IIE recent death, at the closing of the year 1898, of the la- 
-L mented Senator Justin S. Morrill, who, as being the author 
of the Land-Grant College Act, is justly styled the father of agri- 
cultural education in the United States, seems to suggest the desira- 
bility of taking a survey of agricultural education as it at present 
exists in other countries than our own. 

Since the pursuit of agriculture is one which concerns more of 
the people of our globe than any other pursuit, the necessity for 
scientific training for agriculturists becomes more and more evident 
to educated people. It is true that the cultivators of the soil do not 
generally admit the need of special schooling. At the beginning of 
this century very few educators, even, thought so. It was supposed 
that tilling the soil had nothing to do with schools, and that science 
had no connection with plowing and sowing. Agricultural lecture- 
ships were established early in the eighteenth century in several- 
European universities, but they were regarded as curiosities of the 
age — superfluities of culture, rather than aids to the cultivator. 
Earmers themselves were supposed to be the only competent teach- 
ers of agriculture, and experience the only possible guide. But it 
has become apparent that no farmer's experience is broad enough 
to be adapted to all soils and climates. The successful farmer has 
come to regard the land which he o\vns as a wonderful machine 
which, if rightly managed, will turn out the most costly and per- 
fect product; but which, if neglected or ignorantly handled, will 
disappoint his high hopes and possibly impoverish its owner. The 
development of commerce which so easily introduces the wheat 
and potatoes and other products of our country into competition 
with the grain produced in a distant land has taught the producers 
of this generation, and especially the citizen of European countries, 
that the farmer who can produce the largest crop of grain from 
the fewest acres, at the lowest price for the best cereal or vegetable, 
is the only successful cultivator. The nation which succeeds best 
in this direction with all its soil products is the one which is sure 
to have the " balance of trade " always in its favor. 

The United States awoke to this idea when, in 1862, Congress 
passed the Land-Grant College Act, allotting Government lands in 
every State to aid in founding agricultural colleges. The country 
became more profoundly moved by this idea when, in 1887, Con- 
gress passed the Hatch Act, granting annually to each State the 
sum of fifteen thousand dollars to organize and perpetuate agri- 


cultural experiment stations, and still further when it organized 
a Department of Experiment Stations as an integral part of the 
Department of Agriculture. 

But several of the countries of Europe have anticipated our 
action in behalf of agricultural education by a quarter of a century. 
Germany and France and little Switzerland realized fifty years ago 
that agriculture in its various departments must be pursued with 
the aid of the latest science combined with the broadest experience. 
These countries have not Avaited for the laborer to perfect himself 
in experience — an impossible attainment — but they have opened 
schools of every possible grade, arranged courses of lectures by the 
best educated scientists, made elementary agriculture a compul- 
sory subject in the curricula of the common schools, sent out trav- 
eling instructors to confer with and advise and give courses of lec- 
tures to the older farmers, made it possible — even compulsory — 
that young people should attend technical schools at odd hours of 
the day or evening, and even tempted them to pass a serious exami- 
nation in their respective studies by the offer of a valuable prize as 
the reward of success. It is said that Charles Dickens once made 
a speech at an agricultural dinner in which he somewhat derisively 
said that " the field it paid the farmer best to cultivate was the one 
within the ring fence of his own skull." Dickens was correct. The 
farmer needs scientific education. The best civilized and progres- 
sive nations of to-day are admitting the utterance of Dickens to be a 
serious truth. Vast sums of money are appropriated by European 
governments to prevent their agricultural classes from continuing 
in or subsiding into ignorance of their art. Even the peasants of 
Kussia, notably in the province of Ekaterinoslav, by the generous 
appliances for special agricultural education made by the Ministry 
of Agriculture and State Domains, united with the efforts of the 
Ministry of Public Instruction, are made to feel that without expert 
teaching a man can not succeed even in the raising of fowls or of 
bees, the culture of silkworms, the making of wine, or the manuring 
of his fields. Consul Heenan * says that in the province named 
above the Government annually rents thirty-two experiment fields, 
each eight acres in extent, distributed four in each district, and each 
one located in the midst of peasant fields. Each of these fields is 
placed in charge of some scientifically educated public-school teach- 
er, who is paid twenty-five dollars per year for his direction, and 
receives, besides, all the harvest produced. The teacher uses the 
native tools and seeds, and hires neighbor peasants to assist in dem- 
onstrating that with care in plowing, cleaning of seed, cultivating, 

* See United States Consular Reports, vol. Ivii, No. 215, August, 1898, article on Gar- 
dener's Schools in Russia, by Consul Heenan. 


and reaping, liis field Avill produce larger crops than his slovenly or 
ignorant neighbor. The object lesson has its certain result. The 
peasants are gradually adopting the four-field culture system — viz., 
fallow, winter crops, pastures, and summer crops. 

Besides these, Russia sustains 68 agricultural schools, contain- 
ing 3,157 pupils, at a cost of $403,500, of which sum the Govern- 
ment pays $277,500, and the local zemstovs (societies) or the school 
founders pay $136,000. 

In France the eminent scientist Lavoisier, at the close of the 
last century, advocated the founding of a national school for the 
teaching of agricultural science. His plan for government initia- 
tion was not realized, but in 1822 Matthieu de Dombasle founded, 
near IS'ancy, the first true agricultural school. In 1829 and 1830 
the schools at Grignon and Grand] ouan were founded by August 
Bella and Eiefell respectively. !N"ow France boasts of one of the 
most perfect systems of agricultural education of any country of 
the world. Under the joint direction of her Ministers of Agricul- 
ture and of Public Instruction, France plans to cover every phase 
of education from the simplest forms of object lessons taught by 
law in all her primary schools to the crowning National Institute 
of Agriculture at Paris. The facts of science, united with the 
soundest experience, are demonstrated to the farmer by lectures 
and experimentation; the future agriculturists of the country are 
educated in the certainties of scientific research at graded schools, 
ranging from elementary to university degrees, and every milk- 
maid is taught the necessity of promptness, cleanliness, and system 
in the care of milch cows and in the disposal of their milk. 

The former able Director-General of French Agriculture, Mon- 
sieur Tisserand, says: " The aim and object of France has been not 
only to give to children and young people the means of acquiring 
knowledge, but also to establish means for interesting old cultiva- 
tors. In this century of extreme competition we must admit that 
the agriculturist can only thrive if, in working the soil, he adopts 
scientific methods. Old routine is no longer sufficient in this 
branch, as it is proved to be insufficient in manufacture." In car- 
rying out her enlightened policy, instruction was given in 1893 * 
to 3,600 pupil teachers. Thirty agricultural laboratories through- 
out the country furnish analyses of soils and manures for the help 
of cultivators, and 3,362 trial fields are established where farmers 
can profit by experiments suitable to their own districts. The 
special farm schools number sixteen; practical schools of agricul- 
ture, thirty-nine; national schools of agriculture and horticulture, 

* Statistics of 1893. The French Government only occasionally issues its official report 
of agricultural schools. 


six; three veterinary scliools; and one each, bearing the name of 
National Agronomic Institute, is a shepherd school, a cheese, and 
a silkworm school. In the universities are no less than 160 depart- 
ments and chairs of agriculture for students of profoundest re- 
search. All this costs the departments alone over 4,504,050 francs 
per annum. 

In Prussian Germany no less activity is displayed or energy put 
forth to make the farmer's occupation one of financial profit and 
scientific status. Statistics for 1897 are at hand in the report of 
the Prussian Minister of Agriculture. The German system is 
based on the theory that schools and colleges are the only places 
where theoretical agriculture can be properly taught. Few of the 
higher agricultural schools first established were exclusively such. 
A liberal education could be obtained at most of them without 
touching the subject of agriculture. Later educators have devel- 
oped a system which begins by fostering a love for Xature in the 
minds of the pupils in the kindergarten, and patiently develops that 
love through all the dozen or more grades of schools until it cul- 
minates in the polytechnic school or the degree granted by the 

Germany is indebted to the learned Professor Thaer for the 
establishment of its first agricultural school at Moglin in 1807. 
But more than all is she, in common with all the world, indebted 
to the famous chemist Baron von Liebig, who, in 1840, announced 
the scientific truth which underlies all arguments for agricultural 
education — viz., that no matter how impoverished a soil is natu- 
rally, or has become by excessive cropping, its fertility may be 
restored, maintained, and even increased by providing it with the 
mineral and organic matter which it lacks. 

Prussian agricultural affairs are under the supervision of the 
Ministry of Agriculture, Domains, and Forests. The state main- 
tains three grades of schools — higher, middle, and lower — as in 
other European countries. The most celebrated are the Royal Ag- 
ricultural High Schools at Berlin and Popplesdorf, two royal acad- 
emies of forestry, and the university courses in agriculture at Halle, 
Gottingen, Konigsberg, Leipsic, Giessen, and Jena. The state ex- 
pends something like two hundred thousand dollars annually on 
agricultural education. In Germany agricultural education has so 
broadened out as to include training in every technical part of a 
farmer's work — culture of forests, fruits, flowers, and vines; 
schools to teach wine, cider, and beer making, machine repairing, 
engine running, barn construction, and surveying; knowledge of 
poultry, bees, and silkworm raising; domestic economy, sewing, 
and accounts for farm women — all in addition to the long scientific 


courses of study and years of practical work on an established farm. 
Verily, the country that excels Germany in training agriculturists 
must be par excellence in its methods. 

A special feature of agricultural teaching is the traveling pro- 
fessor {Wanderlehrer). United States Consul Monaghan enthusi- 
astically describes him: "These teachers, supported partly by the 
state and by agricultural unions, go from place to place . . . and 
lecture on agricultural and horticultural subjects. Their purpose 
is to lift up and ennoble agricultural life; to afford the farmer the 
knowledge gleaned by science since he left the school; to impart to 
him the best methods of selecting soils, fertilizers, cattle, trees, etc. ; 
to teach him how to use his lands to best advantage, to graft, to 
breed in; to get the best, quickest, and most profitable results. 
These teachers are skilled scientists, practical workers, not theorists, 
. . . perfectly familiar with the wants and needs of their dis- 
tricts. Armed with this knowledge, the teacher's usefulness is cer- 
tain and unlimited. When he speaks his voice is that of one in 
authority, it is heeded. . . . He is a walking encyclopaedia of 
knowledge, especially of knowledge pertaining to the woods, hills, 
farms, and fields." 

Austria has, like Germany, a system of agricultural and forestry 
schools in three grades — viz., superior, middle, and lower. Its old- 
est school of superior grade was established in 1799 at Krumman.* 
Similar schools existed later at Gratz, Trieste, Lemberg, Trutsch, 
and Altenburg. The latter is especially complete in every appli- 
ance for instruction, and well patronized. The middle schools pro- 
vide two-year courses of study and practice, and are located at 
Grossan, Kreutz, Dublany, and other points, while the lower schools 
incline less to study and more to lectures and farm practice. They 
are located in the provinces of Bohemia, Styria, Galicia, and Ca- 

Forestry schools of various grades exist at Mariabrunn, "Wis- 
sewasser, Aussen, Pibram, Windschact, and ISTagny; of these, Ma- 
riabrunn is especially deserving of mention for its thorough course 
and complete equipment. 

Switzerland was the home of the philanthropist and educator 
Fellenburg, His school, established at Hopyl in 1806, was a phi- 
lanthropy in aid of the peasantry, concerning whom he said that 
possessing nothing but bodies and minds, the cultivation of these 
was the only antidote for their poverty. At least three thousand 
pupils received their education in agriculture here. The Federal 
Polytechnic School at Zurich is the nation's pride. Out of six 
courses of superior training which it provides for its one thousand 

* See Barnard's Journal of Education, vol. xx, 1870, p. G73. 


students, forestry and agriculture count as two. Five universities 
and numerous special schools furnisli aid to agricultural education. 

The little kingdoms of Belgium and Holland are following hard 
upon the tracks of their powerful neighbors. In Belgium may 
be found superior institutions of agriculture, horticulture, veteri- 
nary science, and forestry at Gembloux, Vilvorde, Cureghem, and 
Bouillon respectively. 

In Holland, whose people robbed the sea to obtain lands for 
farms and homes, about £71,500 were expended by the state on 
its agricultural department in 1897. Its first school, established 
by a communal society at Haren in 1842, was discontinued. The 
state in 1876 adopted the school of agriculture which has been 
established at Wageningen as its own, and this institution can fairly 
lay claim to equality w^ith any in Europe. Government also sup- 
ports the State Veterinary College at Utrecht, and subsidizes a 
school of forestry and several dairy schools. Agricultural teach- 
ing in primary schools has not yet proved a success. 

Italy has not made such progress in agricultural education as 
her northern neighbors, yet she is not indifferent to the require- 
ments of the times. She has a most unique scheme for Govern- 
ment superintendence of agricultural matters. All comes under 
the purview of a general Director of Agriculture, assisted by a 
Council for Agricultural Instruction, which latter was established 
by royal decree in 1885, and reorganized in 1887. Four divisions 
of the department exist — namely, (1) agriculture proper, (2) zoo- 
techny, (3) forestry, and (4) agricultural hydraulics. Statistics are 
not easily procured, but recent catalogues show that the two Royal 
Superior Schools of Agriculture, located respectively at Milan and 
Portici, are institutions of which any country might be proud. Of 
the latter Mr. E, ISTeville Eolfe, British consul, wrote in 1897 that 
it was originally a provincial establishment, but in 1885 it had been 
established by royal charter and domiciled in the magnificent 
grounds and buildings of a disused royal palace. Its study course 
requires three years to complete, and graduates obtain the degree 
of Laureato Agronomo. Up to 1896, two hundred and twenty- 
eight students had obtained this degree, most of whom are instruc- 
tors or Government employees of high rank. It is known also that 
thirty-three special and practical agricultural schools exist in differ- 
ent parts of the kingdom. 

Much can not be said in praise of agricultural education in 
Spain. That country possesses the machinery for education of the 
higher grades, but through her seven distinctly agricultural col- 
leges, located at Madrid, Saragossa, Barcelona, Corunna, Valencia, 
Caceres, and Jerez, she seems only to have obtained men for Gov- 


ernment service at home or abroad. Spain expended in 1896 on 
agricultural education the sum of £58,460, but she evidently sends 
no Wanderlelirer instructors among her peasant farmers. 

It is said that Portugal possesses seven agricultural schools, at- 
tended in 1896 by one hundred and eighty-seven students, but of 
their location, save one, and courses of study the writer has no in- 
formation. The Government conduct of education is committed 
to a Director-General of Agriculture. The leading school is named 
the General Institute of Agriculture, and is located at Lisbon. It 
provides four courses — viz., (1) rural engineering, (2) agronomy, 
(3) sylviculture, (4) veterinary medicine. It has a large tract of 
land for demonstration purposes located a few miles from the city. 

Concerning Greece and the smaller kingdoms in southeastern 
Europe, together with the land of the Turk, not much to the en- 
couragement of the scientific agriculturist can be said; but turning 
northward across Europe to the Scandinavian coimtries quite a 
different state of things becomes apparent. At once we find that 
the system of agricultural education is highly developed, and in 
some phases is not surpassed by other countries. Immediately we 
are in a network of dairy schools, experiment stations, chemical 
and seed-control stations, agricultural societies, colleges, and uni- 
versities. Here we find five institutions all under royal patronage 
and state support. In Norway is the Higher Agricultural School 
at Aas, established in 1859. In Sweden stands the Agricultural 
Institute at Ultima, established in 1849, and the Alnarp Agricul- 
tural and Dairy Institute, established in 1862. In Denmark is 
the Iloyal Veterinary and Agricultural College at Copenhagen, 
established in 1773 as a veterinary college. In Finland the Mus- 
tiala Agricultural and Dairy Institute, established in 1840. In 
these four small states there exist agricultural, horticultural, for- 
estry, and dairy schools of all grades to the number of one hundred 
and fifty-nine. Education in agriculture is not attempted in the 
primary public schools of Norway or in any of these Scandinavian 
countries, but agricultural elementary instruction is begun in what 
other continental countries would call secondary schools, and is 
provided for persons intending to be farmers and who are eighteen 
years of age and older. Norway spent on elementary agricul- 
tural education in secondary schools, in 1895-96, the sum of 
$31,182, and Finland more than doubled that sum. 

Crossing tlie Channel to Groat Jiritain, again we see a nation 
intent on solving the question of success for her agricultural popu- 
lation. Celebrated Englishmen, Scotchmen, and Irishmen early 
began to plan for an educated peasantry, but it was long before any 
national system was evolved. The sectional divisions and peculiari- 


ties belonging severally to Scot and Celt and Saxon Lave not yet 
permitted a uniform legislation. Ireland and Scotland each has 
its own scheme of Government supervision, and both differ from 
England and Wales. It is estimated that but ten per cent of Eng- 
land's laboring population is concerned with agriculture for sup- 
port, while in Ireland there is scarcely ten per cent of the people 
who are not dependent on agriculture for existence. In conse- 
quence, we find in Ireland, as in France, intense interest centers 
upon the plan to teach agriculture and horticulture in the elemen- 
tary public schools, while in England, until very recently, agricul- 
tural education served principally to produce a class of educated 
scientific men fitted for the Government home and colonial service. 

In Ireland compulsory attendance on primary schools is made 
by law. In 1876 Ireland claimed to be the pioneer country in pro- 
viding compulsory elementary agricultural instruction in all her 
rural schools. She has desperately clung to the theory that in 
providing such education in her elementary schools she would 
eventually train a nation of agriculturists. To attain this end, ele- 
mentary text-books were prepared, which all teachers must use. 
The Government grant for a pass at examination in agriculture was 
much larger than a pass in any other study; teachers who held cer- 
tificates to teach it were given higher salaries than others, and to 
enable teachers to prej)are for such certificates, scholarships were of- 
fered them at teachers' colleges (normal schools), and their railway 
fare was free in going and coming. Plots of ground at schoolhouse 
or teacher's house were provided, where flower and vegetable cul- 
ture could be constantly practiced, and a special grant was allowed 
to the school for cultivating a successful garden, and another spe- 
cial for classes showing proficiency in practical work. Gardens 
were cultivated at convents and workhouses, and the subject was 
taught theoretically to " half-time " pupils and students at the 
" evening continuation schools." 

In December, 1896, Ireland had 8,606 national schools, with 
an average attendance of 815,248 pupils. She also had 150 half- 
time schools, 155 workhouse schools, 267 convent schools, 30 model 
schools, five training colleges for teachers, and two training agricul- 
tural institutes (at Glassnevin and at Munster), and in all of these 
agricultural science or practice is either a compulsory or a volun- 
tary subject. What country can surpass Ireland's enthusiasm for 
agricultural training? * 

* A bill for the development of Irish agricultural industry and Irish technical educa- 
tion, providing for Government aid to private enterprise in agriculture, and in manufactur- 
ing mdustries also, has just passed (August, 1899) the House of Commons, and is assured 
its passage by the House of Lords also. 


Scotland enjoys deservedly the distinction of having been first 
among the peoples of Europe to introduce in the university course 
scientific education in agriculture. In 1790 a chair was established 
in the University of Edinburgh, and a course of agricultural lec- 
tures was given therefrom by Eev. D. Walker. Better than that, 
in 1743 a volume entitled Select Transactions was published by 
Maxwell, representing the agricultural society known as the " So- 
ciety of Improvers," and numbering at one time three hundred 
members. Out of this society grew the " Highland and Agricul- 
tural Society," which organization has fostered every agricultural 
effort which private beneficence or royal grant has initiated in the 
land since 1834. Through its munificence both the departments of 
forestry and veterinary surgery have been placed upon a firm edu- 
cational basis, and the educational lectureship of Edinburgh Uni- 
versity has been permanently endowed. It has instituted its own 
syllabus of examinations for granting " Eellowships in Agricul- 
ture," and stimulated pupils of the secondary schools to make the 
effort by offering prizes and scholarships to the ambitious students. 

The University of Aberdeen has lately entered the field as an 
agricultural educator by becoming what the Government styles a 
" collegiate center," receiving a straight subsidy of £100 per an- 
num, and furnishing professional instructors to rural assemblies 
arranging lectures for them. In the public schools of Scotland 
agricultural science is arranged for as an optional study from the 
third to the sixth standards inclusive. In 1895-'96, 4,148 pupils 
jjassed examinations in the subject, and the cost of this to the state 
was £42,792. In 1896-'97 pupils in the " evening continuation 
schools" to the number of 1,089 passed in agriculture, and 115 
others in horticulture. 

England and Wales are under a joint administration of agricul- 
tural affairs. The Government policy, so far as it has one, has 
been continually opposed to paternalism and direct subsidy or own- 
ership of schools. Rather has her Parliament waited to be solicited 
to make subventions by way of encouraging individual or local 
society initiative. The fiourishing agricultural schools at Ciren- 
cester and Downton, for the instruction of the higher classes, have 
grown out of private establishments, then been perpetuated by ob- 
taining royal charters, by which the Government became pledged 
to supply any lack of income. But since 1893 the state has so far 
relaxed her policy as to grant subsidies to certain colleges centrally 
located, which it styles " collegiate centers," through which col- 
leges it offers superior instruction to the public. These colleges 
associate with themselves ample farm lands for experiment grounds 
and dairy machinery, and equip themselves with competent lee- 


turers, wlio are also practical experts, and who, upon invitation 
from agricultural societies or county councils, go forth as lecturers 
upon their special subjects. Each adjacent county makes an an- 
nual grant of £75 to the college funds, and is privileged to nomi- 
nate students to attend the college agricultural course at a reduc- 
tion of twenty-five per cent on the usual fee. In 1898-'99 the 
Board of Education granted to fifteen colleges and associations in 
England and "Wales the sum of £7,200. The colleges were the 
Yorkshire College at Leeds, Durham College of Science at New- 
castle-on-Tyne, University Extension College at Reading, Univer- 
sity College at ISTottingham, Southeastern Agricultural College at 
Wye, and in Wales the University Colleges at Bangor and Abe- 

Besides the direct Government subsidy to higher education, the 
state grants to the several counties part of the money raised from 
the excise (" drink money ") for educational purposes, out of which 
at least £78,000 were spent by the committees in 189G-'97 in pro- 
moting agi'icultural education. 

Still further. Parliament puts into the hands of the Science 
and Art Department large sums of money to be expended as grants- 
in-aid of " technical education." The state recognizes instruction 
in the principles of agriculture as instruction in elementary science, 
and through this Science and Art Department's grants to primary 
and secondary schools, and to teachers' colleges, it encourages agri- 
cultural education as a technical study. In 1896-97, 1,023 pupils 
passed examination, and the respective school managements re- 
ceived as grant on their account a total sum of £140,150.* 

In 1897 the Royal Commission on Agricultural Depression in 
England made its report. Among other declarations made by the 
commission were these: "We believe that it is essential for the 
welfare of agriculture that there should be placed within the reach 
of every young farmer a sound, general school education, includ- 
ing such a grounding in the elements of sciences bearing upon agri- 
culture — e. g., chemistry, geology, botany, and animal physiology 
— as will give him an intelligent interest in them and familiarize 
him in their language." f 

They further recommend that hereafter the control of all funds 
for technical agricultural education be placed with the Board of 
Agriculture, and that the entire income of the Customs and Excise 
Act of 1890 should be devoted to educational purposes, agriculture 
receiving its adequate share. Should the first recommendation 
carry for all divisions of the United Kingdom, agriculture would 

* Appendix to Report of Science and Art Department, 1896-97. 
f Page 152 of Report. 


cease to be one of the subjects provided for examination by the 
Science and Art Department. Should the second recommenda- 
tion become a law, the sum expended by local county councils in 
agricultural education would be vastly increased. 

Passing from England to her colonies, let us journey toward 
the sunrising. Stopping for a moment in Egypt, we note with 
pleasure the existence of the newly established School of Agricul- 
ture at Gizeh, which is under the direction of the Ministry of Pub- 
lic Instruction for Egypt. Its reconstructed course of study was 
open to students in 1898, and it provides for four years of study. 
Arabic and English are the teaching languages, especially the lat- 
ter, and allotments of land for individual culture are made to all 

Beyond the Indian Ocean lies Hindustan. Here all science 
study is awaiting its development. The best cultivation of India 
is not behind that of England as a matter of empiricism,* but the 
science of cultivation is yet to be developed. Agricultural chem- 
istry and agricultural botany and horticulture, as related to India, 
have scarcely been investigated, and text-books in the native 
tongues have yet to be written. For this accomplishment all ele- 
mentary instruction in public schools must patiently wait. For an 
agriculturally educated set of teachers, also, Indian youth study- 
ing in the vernacular must patiently wait. In 1889 the home 
Government (Parliament) laid upon the Indian Educational De- 
partment the duty of providing school " readers " which should 
contain elementary instruction in agricultural science, and it au- 
thorized a liberal grant-in-aid toward such schools as could furnish 
pupils for passes in this subject. Eor those students who have mas- 
tered the English language a few colleges exist. ■ Saidapet, near 
Madras, with about forty students in a three-years' course, includ- 
ing veterinary, is a pure agricultural institution. Fourteen stu- 
dents received diplomas in agriculture in March, 1897. 

Several colleges have agricultural departments, notably the 
Poona College of Science in the Bombay presidenc}^; the Baroda 
College; the Maharajah's College and the Shimoga College, My- 
sore; the Central College, and the Sanskrit College of Bangalore. 
All of these are affiliated with the University of Bombay, and 

* Dr. Voelker, in his Report on Improvement of Indian Agriculture, made to the Eng- 
lish Board of Agriculture in 1893, said: "At the best, the Indian rait/af, or cultivator, is 
quite as good as, and in some respects the superior of, the average British farmer. It is 
wonderful, too, how much is known of rotation, the system of mixed crops, and of fallow- 
ing. Certain it is that I, at least, have never seen a more perfect picture of careful culti- 
vation, combined with hard labor, perseverance, and fertility of resource, than I have seen 
at many of the halting places. Such are the gardens of Mahim, the fields of Nadiad, the 
center of the garden of Gujarat, in Bombay." 


present pupils for examination in agTiculture for tlie degree of 
B. Sc. A. 

In many of the English liigli schools of India are fonnd agri- 
cultural classes which give both science teaching and field prac- 
tice. These schools are at Nagpur, ISTasik, Sholapur, Ahmednagar, 
Ahmedabad, Dhulia, Ivolapur, Surat, Belgaum, and Kadiad. The 
stimulus to study in these schools is the hope of obtaining a diploma 
in agriculture, which would result in employment in the Govern- 
ment service. 

In Lucknow is a celebrated veterinary school whose graduates 
have been greatly sought after. One at Bombay has become still 
more celebrated. In 1897 sixty-nine students were in attendance. 
Graduates easily found employment with native rajahs, and on 
the island of Ceylon, and at Mozambique. Another Government 
veterinary school recently established at Belgatchia, Calcutta presi- 
dency, has done good work. 

The forestry school at Dehra Dun, in the j^orthwest Provinces, 
has attained a great reputation. About seventy students attend, 
and the Government charges the cost of the school, 33,000 rupees, 
to the districts which send up pupils for study. India, under 
the British rule, will soon come into line with educated agri- 

In Burmah and in Assam steps have been taken to introduce 
science lessons into Government, or grant-in-aid, elementary schools 
by the preparation of " readers," as in India, but no secondary or 
superior schools in agriculture exist in these countries. So far as 
we know, the same is true of Siam and the Malayan Archipelago 
and of the Philippines. 

Australia, as a federation of states, is late in its development, 
but some of its states are surprisingly advanced. New Zealand 
has its superior university, combining the three colleges at Auck- 
land, Lincoln, and Otago. Its syllabus provides for searching ex- 
aminations in agriculture to obtain the degree of B. Sc, either of 
these colleges having previously granted the diploma of agricul- 
ture to successful students. Each of these colleges has ample 
grants of land, but only one — the Canterbury College at Lincoln — 
has yet presented agricultural candidates. Forty-four graduates 
have received diplomas previous to 1895. Instruction in elemen- 
tary schools seems not yet to have included agriculture. 

In Queensland the Queensland Agricultural College was opened 
at Gatton in 1897. 

In South Australia is an agricultural college at Eoseworthy 
and another at Adelaide which has graduated several recipients 
of the diploma. 


In Victoria there exists a college at Dookia and another at 
Longerong. There is also a school of horticulture at Richmond. 
To !N'ew South Wales belongs the banner for furnishing the 
greatest opportunities for agricultural education. Its university 
at Sydney grants a degree of B. Sc. to students from the colleges 
of St. Paul, St, John, St. Andrew, the Woman's College, and the 
Sydney Grammar School. At Sydney also is the splendid Tech- 
nical College, handsomely endowed, having an agricultural depart- 
ment. The superior of all other schools is the Hawksbury Agri- 
cultural College and Experimental Farm at Richmond, established 
in 1891, richly endowed with land (three thousand acres), and or- 
ganized on the most approved modern models. Science teaching 
is not carried so high as the university standard, but all manner of 
practical work must be performed by each student. 

Homeward bound, we reach Cape Colony, South Africa. 
Here, in 1887, the Government inaugurated a scheme for aiding 
farm schools in which elementary agriculture was taught. In 
1894, out of 852 schools aided by the Government, 202 were 
classed as " farmhouse schools." In higher education there may 
be found (1898) the School of Agriculture and Viticulture at 
Stellenbosch, and a second one at Sunset East. As both of 
these schools are young, statistics concerning them are not yet 

Last of England's colonies we notice the Dominion of Canada 
on our northern frontier. No evident progress has been made in 
introducing agricultural science teaching in the primary schools of 
the entire Dominion. The first step taken in the direction of agri- 
cultural education was for the enlightenment of farmers. In 1886 
Parliament authorized the establishment of a system of experiment 
farms, one in each province in Canada, viz.: one at Ottawa (to 
serve both Quebec and Ontario), and one each at ISTappan, in Nova 
Scotia; at Brandon, Manitoba; at Indian Head, Assiniboia; at 
Agassiz, British Columbia; and at Charlottetown, Prince Edward 
Island. To give these stations greater efficiency, the Government 
encouraged the formation of farmers' institutes in every electoral 
district for the hearing of lectures from experts which it provided, 
and for discussion or business. To each regularly organized insti- 
tute of fifty members a grant of £10 is annually made. 

In jSTova Scotia five primary and secondary schools are reported 
as giving agricultural instruction to two hundred pupils. Some of 
these schools have farms or gardens. The Provincial School of 
Agi-iculture at Truro is making a good beginning. In its last class 
three students were granted teachers' diplomas, seven received 
farmers' diplomas, and eighteen took farmers' certificates. Three 


Inindred and fifty students liave pursued its course of studies. 
There is also a horticultural school at Annapolis Valley. 

Another horticultural school exists at Wolfville, Nova Scotia, 
under the control of a committee of the Fruit-Growers' Associa- 
tion. Students take a thorough course of two years' duration. The 
Legislatures of IN^ew Brunswick and of Prince Edward Island grant 
bonuses of fifty dollars to each young man of their provinces who 
will take a course at this school. 

Fine creamery plants are found at various points, and several 
provinces sustain each a " traveling dairy," which systematically 
visits accessible centers and gives demonstration lectures to farm- 
ers' families. 

The crowning agricultural educational institution for the en- 
tire Dominion is the college at Guelph, Ontario. It combines in- 
struction in veterinary science, horticulture, bee and poultry keep- 
ing, dairying, and the experimental farm. The course continues 
for three years. Two years confers the " associate diploma," and 
three years' study, with successful examination in the syllabus of 
the Toronto University, secures the degree of B. Sc. A. Success 
attends all these educational efforts and marks this colonial empire 
as among the ranks representing true progress. 

Mexico and the countries of South America next claim our 
notice. In the first-named country, as early as the year 1850 pro- 
vision was made at the old college of San Gregorio for instruction 
in agriculture in five different courses. But in 1854 the Govern- 
ment came into possession of the disused convent of San Jacinto, 
Agosta. Here a national school was organized, combining the two 
departments of agriculture and veterinary science. It was opened 
February 22, 1854, and designated the National School of Agi'i- 
culture and Veterinary Science. Its courses of study are up to 
the best standards. Three years are necessary to complete the 
agricultural course and receive the title of Superintendent of Rural 
Estates, and four years' study must be given to secure that of Inge- 
niero Agronomo. The course was readjusted in 1893. During 
the five years past 169 graduates have received the former and 
68 the latter degrees. The management consists of 48 persons, 
whose salaries annually cost the Government 96,424 Mexican dol- 
lars. Ample grounds and buildings are provided to make this in- 
stitution a matter for national pride. 

Besides this college, a farm school exists in one of the federal 
districts, costing annually $17,564, and another at the colony of 
Porfirio Diaz, costing the state $14,708. Mexico is also moving 
to introduce agriculture as a subject for primary instruction in 
public schools. 


In Uniguaj exist fine scliools for teacliing agriculture and viti- 
culture which are of recent organization. At Montevideo the Gov- 
ernment has created a Department of Live Stock and Agriculture, 
subject to the Home Ministry. The budget of 1897 provides for 
organizing and sustaining agricultural schools and experiment 
farms to the extent of $28,222, with an additional allowance of 
$90,000 for experiments on farms, installation of plants, furniture, 
instruments, etc. 

Chili is coming to the front in her educational efforts. In the 
city of Concepcion exists a Practical School of Agriculture. Others 
are found at Santiago, at Talca, San Fernando, Elqui, and Sala- 
manca. The school at Santiago receives an annual subvention of 
$40,000, and that at Concepcion the sum of $23,000. Attached to 
the latter are agronomic stations for soil analysis and oversight of 
irrigation systems of the state. The Sociedad ISTacional de Agri- 
cultur at Santiago receives an annual grant of $20,000, which it dis- 
tributes at agricultural shows and for the support of the zoological 
garden. At Quintan K^ormal is also an Institute Agricola of high 
grade for agricultural engineers and agronomics, or for furnishing 
a simple certificate in agriculture. 

Other countries of South America possess education facilities, 
but we are not supplied with details concerning them. 

Our closing glance must be directed to the far Orient. Japan, 
the newest of kingdoms, has a model brace of institutions for supe- 
rior education in agriculture. When Japan awoke to the new 
ideas, to which for ages she was oblivious, her keenest statesmen 
grasped the thought that her agricultural people needed new light 
and intellectual quickening along the lines w^hich so vitally affected 
their daily subsistence. She took the United States into her con- 
fidence. She imported for a season our Commissioner of Agri- 
culture (General Capron), in 1871-72, as " Adviser to the Colonial 
Ofiice at Hokaido," who, after visiting Japan, advised the Govern- 
ment to organize at once an agricultural college at Sapporo, and 
still another at Tokio. This advice was cordially received and 
speedily adopted. American scholars of the highest wisdom and 
experience were imported to inaugurate the work. The college 
was inaugurated by Colonel W. S. Clark, LL. D., President of Am- 
herst Agricultural College, in August, 1876, with twenty-four stu- 
dents. Its new location was Sapporo, and its new name was the 
Sapporo Agricultural College. The Government dealt liberally in 
grants of land, but these ample acres have since been mostly con- 
fiscated, leaving only sufficient for educational purposes. Few 
can estimate the wonderful uplift which has come to Japan through 
this efficient school. In 1893 it had sent out from its agricultural 


course 1'2'i gTaduates; from the engineering, 4; military, 42; and 
from the practical department, 114, 

In 1874 an agrictiltnral department was added to the Imperial 
Universitj at Tokio, the original location of the Sapporo College. 
An exhaustive syllabus in the Department of Agriculture provides 
examination for many profound students of this science, and ad- 
mits them to the highest university degree. Four courses are open 
in the university — viz., agriculture, agricultural chemistry, forestry, 
and veterinary medicine. In 1895 there were 261 students of 
agriculture in the university. 

From this extended though by no means exhaustive review 
of the status of scientific instruction in agriculture throughout the 
world, it is evident tliat all the progressive nations have caught the 
inspiration which attaches to this branch of education, and are 
swinging into line in their efforts to adopt it. Old ideals are rap- 
idly giving place to the new. Educators are forced to admit that 
mental culture is as possible under the study of science as by the 
protracted study of languages and literature; that such study aids 
vastly more than the latter in the training which prepares men for 
the active duties of life ; and that if the development of husbandry 
as a pursuit does not keep pace on an intelligent basis with every 
other technical pursuit, national greatness and permanence will 
never be achieved. 


By F. L. WASHBURN, A. M., 


T~^URING the past two years the United States Eish Commis- 
^-^ sion, with characteristic enterprise, has been carrying on ex- 
periments in the propagation of Eastern oysters in the bays of the 
Oregon coast. Work of a similar nature is now being undertaken 
in the State of Washington. 

As the result of an application through official sources, re-en- 
forced possibly by the results of a biological survey made by this 
department during the preceding summer, twenty-two barrels of 
Eastern oysters were, on November 7, 1896, deposited on a portion 
of Oysterville Flat, so called, in Yaquina Bay, Oregon, seven miles 
and a half from the ocean. The oystermen of that section have 
agreed to abstain from tonging for native oysters upon the por- 
tion of the flat thus reserved until sufficient time has elapsed to 
justify an opinion as to the result of the experiment. These in- 
troduced oysters were of two varieties — the long, slender East Riv- 

VOL LVI — 19 


ers and the more oval, fan-shaped, and ribbed Princess Bays, 
Their journey of twelve days across the continent, in sugar barrels, 
from New York to San Francisco and thence to Oregon without 

" Oyster City," Yaqiina Bay, Oregon. 

water did not cause the mortality one might expect, for in strew- 
ing them over the bed from the scows of the oystermen very few 
dead individuals were observed — certainly not one half of one 
per cent. 

This alien oyster has much to contend with here. It was real- 
ized that the cold and salt water rushing in from the Pacific — colder 
and Salter by far than in their Atlantic home at the same time — 
if it did not entirely prevent spawning would at least make the 
survival of the young embryos a matter of doubt; yet it was hoped 
that perhaps, after a number of years, the oysters might become 
acclimated, as it were, and their spawn, inheriting their parents' 
acquired hardiness, we might present to the people of the State a 
new form of Oregon product in the shape of Eastern oysters hatched 
and grown in the waters of this bay. Notwithstanding the fecun- 
dity of this oyster, a female producing in the vicinity of sixty mil- 
lion eggs at a spawning, it must be remembered that even under 
the most favorable conditions in its own home, where the water 
has in summer a fairly constant temperature of over 70° F. and 
a salinity of 1.012 on an average, but a very small proportion of 
this multitude survive. How much more unlikely is its survival 
in the waters of Yaquina Bay, Oregon, where the wM-iter has seen 
the water change from a teiujjerature of 70° F. and a saltness of 
1.012 to a temperature of 55° and a salinity of 1.022 within six 
hours! It was to save the young embryos from exposure to these 
and kindred dangers that I, as a volunteer employee of the United 


= 35 

States Fish Commission during the summers of 1897 and 1898, 
among other things resorted to the artificial fertilization of the 
eggs in a temporary laboratory, carrying the delicate embryos 
to the swimming stage and dumping them by thousands into the 
bay. Given some clean crocks, a microscope, dissecting instru- 
ments, tumblers, rubber tubing, tliermometers, and instruments 
to test the saltness of the water, and innumerable embryos can be 
cared for without much trouble. The process, as practiced by 
Brooks, Ryder, ISTelson, and others in America, is too well known 
to need repeating here. Its efficacy is well established, and, in 
spite of the incredulity of the oystermen, who wished to see the 
oysters spawn " spontaneous," as they expressed it, an incredulity 
amounting almost to opposition, the writer has persevered in this 
work for two seasons and intends to continue it the coming summer. 
The native oyster of this Northwest coast (Ostrea lurida), small- 
er and by many preferred to its Eastern congener, while it is far less 
fruitful in its spawning than the latter, retains its young within the 
parent shell until long after they have passed the tender stages, 
when they leave the mantle cavity of the parent to swim for them- 
selves. This oyster could rightly be called viviparous, while the 
Eastern oyster is oviparous. On account of its nurse-acting pro- 


clivities this West-coast oyster has an immense advantage here over 
the introduced species. The latter's eggs have to run the follow- 
ing gantlet: (1) N^ot meeting with a fertilizing cell and perishing 
in consequence; (2) sinking, before or after fertilization, in the 
fatal mud; (3) being eaten by small fish and other minute animals; 



(4) being killed by sudden changes in the temperature and density 
of the water. Artificial fertilization and the rearing of the em- 
bryos in the laboratory largely eliminate these dangers. We have 
adopted other methods to insure success. A few of the oysters 
were removed from the Government plant and deposited two miles 
farther up the bay, nine miles and a half from the ocean, where 
it was thoua'lit the water was warmer, less salt, and loss variable 

Eahtkt;.v Oystkus in Okkgdn. The lowt-r mw shows sizL' wiien iihuited in 1891) ; tlie 
u))I)fr row represents their apiieanuice in isys. 

than on Oysterville Flat. Sonic, during the breeding season, were 
])laced on spawning iloats and anchored near the shore, where the 
shallow water is thoii •uglily warmed by the sun. It was in one of 
these floats that the oysternien had an o])i)ortunity to see the oysters 
spawn " spontaneous," for the water therein, reaching 70° F., be- 
came milk-white with spawn or milt within an hour after the 
oysters had been taken from the plant. This was really our first 
proof that the introduced oyster would spawn here. Some were 

s o 
^ -5 

^ • # • 


^ 8 

o S 

- -n 



placed in sloughs adjoining the bay, with the hope that favorable 
conditions would be met with there. Others were placed in arti- 
ficially constructed salt ponds somewhat after the style used by the 

What has been the outcome? The oysters, particularly the 
Princess Bay variety, have grown enormously and are in excellent 
condition. Until this spring no Eastern spat or young Eastern 
oysters had been discovered; this, of course, is the crucial point 
in the experiment; we know they will spawn, but will the spawn 
develop? Recently, much to our encouragement, a few young 
oysters, apparently of last summer's spawning, have been found 
and forwarded to Washington, proof positive that the oyster will 
propagate here, but not certain evidence of the practical outcome 
of the experiment. It is too early to predict results as yet; two 
years more are really required to tell the story. 

For thirty years Eastern oysters have been shipped to San Fran- 
cisco by enterprising firms of that city, planted there in the bay 
until a large size is attained, and then sold at an immense profit. 
These firms have ahvays claimed that the Eastern oyster did not 
reproduce there. As far as can be ascertained from a reliable 
source, the shipments in recent years have rather increased than 
diminished, this fact being used as an argument to support the 
above statement. It is nevertheless a known fact that much East- 
ern spat and many adult oysters undoubtedly hatched there have 
been found by members of the United States Fish Commission 
and others. Moreover, with increasing trade one would naturally 
expect more shipments, even though the introduced oyster did 
propagate to some extent. 

Ostrea Ivrida, the toothsome little native oyster which years 
ago w^as so abundant at Yaquina Bay, affording support to many 
families, has decreased in numbers to such an alarming extent that 
unless some radical measures are soon taken to prevent, the native 
oyster industry of this locality wdll be a thing of the past. This 
decrease in the size and numbers appears to be due to several 
causes. In the first place, there has been a very persistent tong- 
ing on a somewhat limited area. Tliis might have been counter- 
balanced by proper precautions to insure a future supply, but, with 
characteristic lack of foresight, such precautions have been neg- 
lected, and the beds have been culled year after year, until the 
comparatively few oysters now marketed from Yaquina Bay are 
of very questionable size. Each oysterman has two acres of flats 
for private use. Throe natural beds in the bay afford sources of 
supply for these private beds. The larger oysters tonged on the 
natural beds are marketed, and the smaller specimens spread on 


the private ground referred to. Beyond strewing clean shells on 
these private beds, no provision is made to collect the swimming 
embryos during the spa^vning season, and multitudes must be car- 
ried away and lost. The writer has urged upon the oystermen the 
need of collectors of brush or tile, by the use of which the oysters 
which they have acquired may be largely increased in numbers, and 
will endeavor to demonstrate, by the use of tile collectors, that 
hundreds of young spat may be saved and raised to marketable age. 
Our native oyster structurally and physiologically resembles the 
European oyster (Ostrea edulis), and, like it, could be propagated 
in artificial oyster ponds. The practicability of such work on the 
West American coast depends, of course, on the market price of 
the resulting product as compared with the outlay required for 



THE Malay is an Oriental, and, of course, possesses a goodly 
number of superstitions and old wives' fables, but he does 
not hug them to his soul like some of the other peoples of the 
East — the Chinaman, for instance, who lives only by favor of 
gods, ghosts, goblins, and devils. The Malay lives in spite of 
spirits, good or bad, and tries to be a model Mohammedan at the 
same time. With bold assurance and positiveness, he puts his trust 
in Allah; but, after all, this does not keep him from cherishing, 
on the sly, a knowledge of a few uncanny, hair-raising beliefs 
any more than to be a devout churchman with us removes one 
from the occult inlluences of stolen dishcloths, overturned salt- 
cellars, and the phases of the moon. 

The Malay man's aherglauhe — his superstition — is undoubtedly 
of ancient origin. For five hundred years or more he has said 
his prayers five times a day in response to the muezzin's cry of 
Allah ho akhav, and his religion has penetrated the very life of his 
race and spread to the most distant confines of the archipelago, 
but it has never been able to remove entirely the heritage of that 
past when he was governed by Sanskrit gods or by deities of his 
own. Whatever he may have believed then and since changed, 
these fragments and relics of gobliutlom and superstition go back 
to that time, and so link on to all the weird love that prevailed 
in the ancient world. Anotlier evidence of the primitiveness of 
Malay folklore may be seen in the fact that the inhabitants of 
the jungles and padangs and the aboriginal dwellers of mountains 


and deuse forests clieiisli much more heathen notions and greater 
elaborations of everyday superstitions than the more enlightened 
and modernized Malays of towns and campongs. In the East, as 
in the AVest, the man who lives close to Nature " holds communion 
with her visible forms/' and likewise finds out, or thinks he does, 
a good deal about her invisible shapes. 

The Malay has on his list of uncanny things the names of sev- 
eral spirits. Disease is everywhere a great dread of men, and 
often looked upon as an infliction of the supernatural powers. 
There are several spirits of sickness recognized among the Malays, 
but they reserve their greatest horror for the influences of the 
Hantu Katumhohan, or spirit of smallpox. But other spirits 
abound; there are some that inhabit the sources of streams, and 
many that dwell in forests. Mines, too, have their patron gob- 
lins, which are propitiated by the miners. The sea-going Malay, 
also, whose vision has been clarified by bitter salt spray, knows 
and frequently sees the spirits that inhabit certain parts of the 

The JIaidu Pemhuro, or phantom hunter, is a spirit the Malays 
take special account of; in general, he seems to resemble the wilde 
Jdger of German folklore. Long ago, so the story has it, there 
lived a certain man and his wife in Katapang, in Sumatra. One 

• lay the wife fell sick, and, thinking the flesh of a mouse-deer 
might strengthen her, she asked her husband to kill one for her. 
He went forth on the hunt, but was unsuccessful and soon re- 
turned. His wife now became very angry, and told him to try 
again — in fact, not to return till he could come home with the 
covetod game. The man swore a mighty oath, called his dogs, 
rook his weapons, and set out into the forest. - He wandered and 
wandered, and always in vain. The days ran into months, the 
months became years, and still no mouse-deer. At last, despair- 
ing of finding the animal on earth, he ordered his dogs to bay 
the stars, and they sprang away through the sky, and he followed. 
As he walked with ujitnrnod gaze, a loaf foil into his mouth and 
took root there. 

At home things were not going well. Plis son, born after his 
departure, when he became a lad, was often taunted by the other 

• •iiildron of the rampovg, and twitted of the fact that his father 
was a wandering ghost. After hearing the truth from his mother, 
the boy wont- out into the forest to moot tlu^ hunt<5man. Far from 
the haunts of riion, in tlio de])lhs <>( the foio^^t, they met and con- 
versed. The l)oy told of his wrongs, and the father vowed to 
avenge them, and ever since that time, say the Malays, he has 
afflicted mankind. At night lie courses through the wood and 


sky with a noisy, yelping pack, and woe to the man who sees him! 
On the peninsula the people mutter this charm to ward off his evil 

" I know thy history, 

O man of Katapang I 

Therefore return thou 

To thy jung^le of Mohang, 

And do not bring sickness upon me." 

The Malay is a firm, believer in the efficacy of charms. He 
wears amulets, places written words of magic in houses, and sports 
a tiger's claw as a preventive of disease. If he is specially primi- 
tive and back woodsy, when he enters a forest he says: "Go to 
the right, all my enemies and assailants! May you not look upon 
me; let me walk alone! " To allay a storm he says: "The ele- 
phants collect, they wallow across the sea; go to the right, go 
to the left, I break the tempest." When about to begin an ele- 
phant hunt, according to Thompson, he uses this charm : " The 
elephant trumpets, he wallows across the lake. The pot boils, the 
pan boils across the point. Go to the left, go to the right, spirit 
of grandfather (the elephant); I loose the fingers upon the bow- 

The Malay believes in witches and witchcraft. There is the 
bottle imp, the Polong, which feeds on its owner's blood till the 
time comes for it to take possession of an enemy. Then there is 
a horrid thing, the Penan galan, which possesses women. Fre- 
quently it leaves its rightful abode to fly away at night to feed 
on blood, taking the form of the head and intestines of the person 
it inhabited, in which shape it wanders around. 

Such beliefs may perhaps have their origin in metempsychosis, 
which in other ways has some foothold among the common people. 
For instance, elephants and tigers are believed sometimes to be 
human souls in disguise, and so the Malay addresses them as 
" grandfather " to allay their wrath and avoid direct reference to 
them. Crocodiles also are often regarded as sacred, and special 
charms are used in fishing for them. One such, given by Max- 
well, is as follows : " O Dangsari, lotus fiower, receive what I 
send thee. If thou receivest it not, may thy eyes be torn out! " 

The domestic animals also figure in Malay folklore. Dogs are 
unlucky and regarded with suspicion, for they would like to lick 
their master's bones. Cats, on the other hand, are lucky, and show 
a fondness for their OAvners. 

Owls are regarded as birds of ill omen, and their hooting fore- 
bodes death. 

Days are lucky and unlucky. '^londay, "Wednesday, and Fri- 

VOL. LVI — 20 


day are fortunate birthdays, and a dream on a Thursday night 
will come true. To dream of a dog or a flood is unlucky. To 
stumble when starting on a journey is a bad sign, and before set- 
ting out on a pilgrimage to Mecca certain formulas are mvittered 
and signs followed. 

The Malay hates to tear down a house, and so the old one is 
left standing when a new one is built. The ladder of a house 
must be built just so, or disaster comes to the owner or builder; 
and to knock one's head on the lintel is regarded as unfavorable. 
One rises quickly from a meal; otherwise, if he is single, he may 
be regarded with disfavor by his prospective father-in-law. 

As one travels over the archipelago he finds that superstitions 
vary, and what may be regarded by the Malays of the peninsula 
as particularly ominous may have no meaning at all with the 
Malays of the south or east. The Dyaks of Borneo are probably 
tlie most uncivilized of all the Malay tribes, for Mohammedan- 
ism has taken but little hold upon them, and their natural pagan- 
ism remains as yet unshaken. Of their folklore we know but little. 
It awaits the conquest of the West, like the island itself. 



IT is so common a notion nowadays that electricity had its birth 
and rise in the nineteenth century that it gives one a strange 
mental sensation to contemplate the fact that all the myriads of com- 
mercial applications that have of late years been developed in this 
field might have been made by the Chinese or the ancient Egyp- 
tians, so far as the potentiality of Nature for developing electrical 
phenomena is concerned. The writer used to know a delightful 
old gentleman in Vermont who once referred, as to a well-known 
fact, to Edison's having invented electricity. It is astonishing how 
closely his state of mind typifies that of a great many people. 

In the form of the lightning, the aurora, and the shock of the 
electric eel or torpedo, electrical manifestations have been known 
ever since man commenced to observ^e those phenomena, but the 
fossil resin amber was the substance which eventually gave its name 
to the now tremendous agency. This material was observ^ed, many 
centuries before our era, to possess the property of attracting light 
bodies to itself when rubbed with w^ool, and, being called rjXeKTpov 
(electron) by the Greeks, transmitted its name to the property or 
force which it thus brought into evidence. The fact is mentioned as 


early as 600 b. c, by Tliales of Miletus, althougli he does not trans- 
mit to US the name of the original observer of the phenomenon. 
Homely as was the experiment, it marked a beginning in electrical 

Not that scientific investigations in that or any line were pushed 
very assiduously in those days, for there is a great gap between the 
discovery of the property above alluded to and the acquisition of 
any more solid knowledge pertaining to electricity. The phenom- 
enon was at that time set down in the list of natural facts, and no 
attempt appears to have been made to connect it with others. The 
inquiring spirit of the present age can hardly be brought into more 
striking relief than by a comparison of the, at present, almost daily 
advances in scientific knowledge with the fact that twenty-two hun- 
dred years elapsed between the discovery of the above-mentioned 
l^ower of amber by the ancients and the later one that a very large 
number of other substances, such as diamonds, vitrefactions of ail 
kinds, sulphur, common resin, etc., possess the same property. A 
few other scattered facts were, however, also noted by the ancients: 
fire is said to have streamed from the head of Servius Tullius at the 
age of seven, and Virgil asserts that flame was emitted by the hair of 

In examining, now, the history of the rise of electrical science 
we find, as just mentioned, the vast gap of over two millenniums 
between the discovery of the attracting power of rubbed amber and 
the mere extension of man's knowledge so as to include other sub- 
stances. The philosophers Boyle and Otto von Guericke, who were 
active during the latter half of the seventeenth century, added a 
mass of new data in this line. Boyle, moreover, discovered the 
equivalence of action and reaction between the attracting and the 
attracted body, and that the rubbed amber or other " electric " re- 
tained its attractive powers for a certain period after excitation had 

Otto von Guericke made a vast step forward by constructing the 
first electrical machine, in a crude form, truly, but which proved of 
the utmost service in adding to our knowledge of the properties of 
electricity. His machine was constructed very simply of a globe of 
sulphur mounted on a spindle, which could be rotated by means of a 
crank; the operator applied friction with the hand, his body receiv- 
ing a positive charge, while the surface of the sulphur acquired a 
negative. The fact of the two electrifications being separated at tho 
surface of the sulphur was not, however, known at the time; the 
only charge that Guericke observed being that appearing on the 
sulphur. The reason for this was that the latter, being a noncon- 
ductor, any electricity generated upon it was compelled to stay there, 


for a certain time at least, and consequently accnmulatcd so as to 
be observable; whereas the opposite electrification flowing into the 
operator's hand continuously escaped to earth without giving any 
sign of its presence. Had the operator stood upon an insulating sup- 
port, the electrification would have accumulated on his body as well 
as upon the sulphur. Guericke made the discovery that a light body, 
having been once attracted to an electrified surface, was almost im- 
mediately repelled from it, and could not be again attracted without 
having its imparted electrification removed by contact with an un- 
charged surface. 

Sir Isaac IsTewton, about 1675, made an interesting application 
of a principle allied to this. He used a hollow, drum-shaped con- 
trivance with glass ends and a very short axis, into which he put a 
number of fragments of paper. On briskly rubbing the outside of 
the glass with a piece of silk the paper was caused to " leap from one 
part of the glass to another and twirl about in the air." Tliis was 
repeated in 1676 before the Royal Society, to the great edification 
of that learned body. 

Newton made a considerable improvement in the electrical ma- 
chine of Guericke by the substitution of a hollow globe of glass for 
Guericke's sulphur one. What is chiefly interesting about the im- 
provement is the fact that Guericke's sulphur globe, of comparative 
weight and cumbrousness, was made by casting melted sulphur into a 
glass globe and then breaking off the glass. Guericke observed in 
the dark a peculiar luminosity of conducting surfaces when well 
charged by means of his machine; he compared it to the phospho- 
rescent light observed when lump sugar is broken in the dark. It 
was what is now known as the brush-discharge effect. 

In 1705 Francis Hawksbee discovered the peculiar phenomenon 
which he termed the mercurial phosphorus. It was produced by 
causing a stream of well-dried mercury to fall through an exhausted 
glass receiver. The friction of the particles of mercury against the 
jet piece and the glass caused an electrification which evinced itself 
in a phosphorescent glow. The receiver, indeed, had not to be by 
any means thoroughly exhausted, the phenomenon occurring at an 
air pressure up to about fourteen inches of the barometer. 

The crackling noise and the spark accompanying electrical dis- 
charge suggested about this time the analogy of those miniature dis- 
turbances to thunder and lightning, but the identity of the two was 
not fully established imtil later. 

Up to this time the fact that certain substances were capable of 
conducting electricity was not known, but in 1729 Stephen Gray, 
F, R. S., an enthusiastic investigator, made tlie discovery, and at the 
same time the cognate one that a large class of materials are non- 


conductors. The only source of electricity which was at the disposal 
of experimenters up to this time was the electrical machine, improved, 
as described, by Newton, which furnished intermittent currents (dis- 
charges) of infinitesimal quantity, as we should say now, but of ex- 
tremely high pressure. This fact of the enormous pressure resulted 
in the electricity's forcing its way through very imperfect conductors, 
so as to cause our investigators to rank many of these latter with the 
metals. Thus Gray concluded that pack thread was a good con- 
ductor because it did not oppose sufficient resistance to prevent the 
flow of his high pressure (or, as we should now say, high voltage or 
tension) electricity. He tried wire as well, but did not realize it was 
a better conductor than the thread, although its conductivity was 
actually in the millions of times as great. In collaboration with his 
friend Wheeler he conveyed electrical discharges a distance of eight 
hundred and eighty-six feet, through presumably air-dry pack 
thread — an achievement which would almost be notable at the 
present time. He insulated the line by hanging it from loops of 
silk thread. 

Gray hoped " that there may be found out a way to collect a 
greater quantity of electric fire, and consequently to increase the force 
of that power, which, si licet magnis componere parva, seems to be 
of the same nature with thunder and lightning." 

About this time Desaguliers discovered that those materials 
which, upon being rubbed, develop electrical charges, are all noncon- 
ductors, and that, conversely, nonelectrics are conductors. The terms 
electrics and nonelectrics were applied to bodies respectively capable 
and incapable of excitation; the words idioelectrics and anelectrics 
were also used in respectively equivalent senses. 

In France, Dufay discovered that the conductivity of pack thread 
was greatly improved by the presence of moisture, and he succeeded 
in conveying a discharge a distance of almost thirteen hundred feet. 
He suspended himself by silken cords and had himself electrified, and 
then observed that he could give a shock accompanied by a spark to 
any person standing on the ground. 

He also established the fact of the two opposite kinds of electri- 
fication, and gave them the names of vitreous and resinous, from the 
fact that the former was developed by the excitation of glass and 
vitreous substances generally, and the latter from that of amber 
and resins. He observed that the distinguishing characteristic of 
the two was the fact that opposite charges attracted each other, while 
similar ones exerted mutual repulsion. Dufay and Gray died within 
three years of each other, both at the age of forty. Gray having 
added to the results already mentioned the discovery of the conduct- 
ing powers of certain liquids and of the human body. 


Experimental research now began to spread into Germany and 
the Xetherlands. The electrical machine was greatly improved by 
Professor Boze, of Wittenberg, and Professor Winkler, of Leipsic, 
who respectively added the prime conductor and the silk rubber to 
that important piece of apparatus. A Scotch Benedictine monk of 
Erfurt — Professor Gordon — substituted a glass cylinder for the 
sphere, and thereby brought the instrument in its essentials practi- 
cally to the form in which it exists to-day. The improvement enabled 
the production of very large sparks, which were caused to produce the 
inflammation of various combustibles. Gordon went so far as to 
ignite alcohol by means of a jet of electrified water. 

We now come to an epoch-making discovery — that of the con- 
denser, or, in its conventional laboratory form, the Leyden jar. Pro- 
fessor Muschenbroeck, of the University of Leyden, was struck with 
the idea that it would be a good plan to try to prevent the dissipation 
of the electric charge by inclosing the conductor containing it in an 
insulating envelope. He therefore took a glass jar, partly filled it 
with water, and electrified the latter. His assistant, who was holding 
the bottle, accidentally touched the wire which made connection with 
the water, and received on the instant a shock much more violent 
than any that the electrical machine was capable of giving. This 
led to the discovery that as the charge of vitreous electricity had 
accumulated in the water, a corresponding charge of the opposite kind 
had gathered upon the outside of the glass and been " bound " there, 
as it is called, by the attraction exercised upon it by the charge on 
the inside. It had been enabled to get upon the glass by the fact 
of the assistant's hand having covered part of the surface of the 
latter, and, since he stood upon the ground, the electricity had quietly 
flowed from the latter up through his body to the outside surface of 
the glass. 

The apparatus was quickly perfected by coating both the inside 
and outside of a jar with tin foil, applying the charge by means of a 
wire or chain to the inside coating and allowing the outer one to 
stand upon the earth or upon a conducting substance in electrical 
contact with the latter. The exaltation of spirit with which the 
discovery was hailed by the savants appears to have been extraordi- 
nary — one student who took a discharge through his body being 
reported to state that he would not have missed the experience 
for a fabulous consideration, and that he would not repeat it if it 
were to save his life. In reality the advance was enormous; it 
gave a means for literally bottling up electricity in quantities pre- 
viously unthought of. The prime conductor of an electrical machine 
could not retain any considerable quantity of electricity for the reason 
that, a certain small intensity of electriflcation having been reached, 


the addition operated to upset the balance, so to speak, and the elec- 
tricity escaped by a sudden (disruptive) discharge, or spark, or by the 
brush discharge already alluded to. With the Leyden jar, however, 
as fast as electricity was supplied to the inside coating it became 
" bound " there by the charge of opposite sign accumulating on the 
outside, and the limit of capacity of the jar was simply one of strength 
of the glass : if too much electricity was supplied, the stress of mutual 
attraction between the two charges relieved itself by destroying 
the jar. 

Although Professor Muschenbroeck discovered the principle in 
the manner above referred to, it appears extremely probable that 
two other investigators, working independently, also did the same. 
One Cuneus and a monk named Kleist each claimed the honor of 
original invention of the condenser. 

About 1747 the first gun was fired by electricity; this was ac- 
complished by Sir William Watson, who also succeeded in kindling 
alcohol and gas by means of a drop of cold water and even with ice. 
The same experimenter reversed the ordinary procedure of causing 
the electric influence to pass from an electrified body to the one to 
be experimented upon, the latter being unelectrified, by electrifying 
the latter, and then producing the desired effect by approaching it to 
an unelectrified one. 

A party of the Royal Society with Watson as chief operator in- 
stituted a series of researches on a grand scale to determine, if pos- 
sible, the velocity of the electric discharge, and arrived at a number 
of conclusions which, however, were of a decidedly negative nature. 
The most important of these were as follows: That they could not 
observe any interval between the instant of applying the discharge 
to one end of the line and its reception at the other; that the de- 
structive effects of discharge are greater through bad conductors than 
through good ones; that conduction is equally powerful whether 
occumng through earth or water. 

Just previous to this there had been some brilliant experiments 
carried on in France, and the discharge had been conveyed through 
twelve thousand feet of circuit, including the acre basin of the Tuile- 
ries, but they had not been performed as systematically, or with the 
definite objects in view, as had the English experiments. 

The following year the Royal Society continued its researches 
on a larger scale than previously, using 12,276 feet of wire, and found 
that even through that length the velocity was practically instan- 

Watson urged as a theory that electrical disturbances were caused 
by influx or efflux of a single electric fluid from the state of normal 
electrification, thus differing from Dufay in his opinion as to the 


existence of two fluids. He was led to this belief by observing tliat 
he obtained a larger spark between two oppositely electrified bodies 
than from either to the earth. 

From this time on there appears upon the scene a host of work- 
ers in this field, one of the most prominent being the distinguished 
American, Benjamin Franklin. Somewhat previous to his remark- 
able work, or about 1750, Boze made certain discoveries in the matter 
of the surface tension of conducting liquids being diminished by elec- 
trification, and Mowbray and Nollet ascertained that the vegetation 
of flowers and of vegetating seeds was hastened by electrifying them. 

Franklin (born 1706, died 1790) made the important discovery of 
the active discharge of electricity from an electrified body by points 
as well as the converse of it — i. e., that electricity was rapidly ab- 
stracted from a charged atmosphere by points. This enabled him to 
increase the efiiciency of the electrical machine by adding a comb- 
shaped series of points to the collector of the prime conductor. 

Up to this time, although the identity of lightning with electri- 
city had long been suspected, it had not been at all established, and 
to Franklin may be said to belong the honor of doing so, although 
in this, as in the case of the invention of the Ley den jar, there appears 
to have been successful contemporaneous research elsewhere. Be- 
fore performing his great experiment Franklin published a book 
strongly supporting the belief in the identity of the two. Once 
liaving conceived the idea of drawing electricity from the upper 
atmosphere, he unfortunately lost some time through waiting for the 
completion of the spire of a certain church in Philadelphia, from 
the top of which he hoped to be able to collect electricity by means 
of a wire, but finally hit upon the device which now fills much the 
same place in connection with his memory that the classical cherry 
tree does with Washington's — the lightning-collecting kite. This 
apparatus was very simply constructed, and had a pointed wire pro- 
jecting a short distance above the framework. It was controlled, 
and electrical connection made, by an ordinary string which termi- 
nated in a short length of silk ribbon to protect the person from pos- 
sible injury, and to give electricity a chance to accumulate in the 
system, by insulating the " line." At the end of the string proper 
Franklin fastened a metallic key. In company with his son he flew 
the kite during a thunderstorm which occurred in June, 1752; for 
some time no electric disturbance approached the neighborhood, and 
he was on the point of abandoning the experiment when he obser^'cd 
what he had been waiting for — the outer fibers of the string stand- 
ing out from the latter by repulsive force — and, ap])lying his knuckle 
to the key, he drew a spark. Subsequently, when the rain soaked the 
string and caused it to conduct much better, there was a fine supply 


of electricity, and Franklin charged a Ley den jar from the key, thus 
achieving the actual storage of " lightning." 

He continued his investigations in atmospheric electricity, and 
discovered that the electrification of the clouds (or of the upper 
atmosphere) was sometimes positive and sometimes negative. The in- 
vention of the lightning rod is due to him. 

Franklin sided with AVatson in his belief in the single nature of 
the electric fluid. 

As intimated above, atmospheric electricity appears to have been 
collected independently about the same time in Europe, and certain 
very daring and dangerous experiments were performed there. One 
sad occurrence, as a result, was the death of Professor Richman, in 
St. Petersburg, in 1753. Richman, in company with a friend, Soko- 
low, was taking observations on an electroscope connected with an 
iron rod which terminated in the apartment and extended in the 
other direction above the roof of the building. During the progress 
of their experiments a violent peal of thunder was heard in the neigh- 
borhood, and Richman bent to examine the instrument. In doing 
so he approached his head to within a foot of the end of the rod, 
and Sokolow saw a ball of fire " about the size of a man's fist " shoot 
from it to Richman's head with a terrific report. The stroke was, of 
course, immediately fatal, and what we now know as the return shock 
•stupefied and benumbed Sokolow. The unfortunate event served as 
a warning to other daring experimenters. 

Canton, another j^rominent worker in this field, discovered that 
the so-called vitreous electricity was not necessarily always developed 
by the friction of glass, as had hitherto been believed to be invariably 
the case. By applying different rubbers to glass he obtained either 
positive or negative at pleasure. This at once disposed of the idea 
that one kind of electricity resided in certain bodies and its opposite 
in others. Canton also made the interesting discovery that glass, 
amber, rock crystal, etc., when taken out of mercury, were all elec- 
trified positively. He was thus enabled to make the improvement in 
the electrical machine of coating its rubber with an amalgam rich in 
mercury, which greatly enhanced. its powers. 

Among the numerous names now coming into prominence must 
be mentioned those of Beccaria, Symmer, Delaval, "Wilson, Kinners- 
ley, Wilcke, and Priestley. 

The first named. Father Beccaria, was a celebrated Italian physi- 
cist who did most valuable work in connection with atmospheric elec- 
tricity, and who published several classical works on that and allied 
subjects. Among these may be mentioned his Lettre del Elettri- 
citd, 1758, and Experimenta, 1772. He ascertained that water is 
not by any means a good conductor, as it had previously been sup- 


posed to be, and, by using pure water, lie caused tbe electric spark 
to become visible in it, a phenomenon capable of occurring only 
through media almost nonconducting. In these experiments he 
used thick glass tubes with wires led through the opposite ends, the 
latter being sealed, and the tubes filled with water. These were 
invariably shattered by the passage of the spark on account of the 
accompanying elevation of temperature, which caused expansion. 
He also established the facts that the atmosphere adjacent to an 
electrified body acquires electrification of the same sign by abstract- 
ing electricity from the body, and that the air then parts with its 
electricity very slowly. He advanced the theory that there is a 
mutual repulsion between the particles of the electric fluid and 
those of air, and that a temporary vacuum is formed at the moment 
of the passage of a disruptive discharge or spark. 

Robert Symmer, in 1759, described some most entertaining ex- 
periments, making use of the opposite electrifications of superposed 
stockings of different materials or merely of different colors (the dye 
matters in the latter case causing differentiation). If, in a dry atmos- 
phere, a silk stocking be drawn over the leg and a woolen one pulled 
over it, the two w^ill be found, upon being removed, to be very power- 
fully electrified in opposite senses. If the four stockings of two 
such pairs be used and then suspended together, they will indulge 
in remarkable antics due to each of the silk stockings trying to attract 
both of the woolen ones, and vice versa, and, on the other hand, each 
of each kind repelling the other. The amount of electrical attraction 
and repulsion produced in this simple way in a dry atmosphere is 
remarkable. The experiment may also be performed with all silk 
stockings, one pair white and the other black. 

Symmer advanced the theory of two fluids coexisting in all matter 
(not independently of each other, as had been previously supposed), 
which by mutual counteractions produced all electrical phenomena. 
His conception was that a body, positively electrified, did not exist 
in that condition because of the possession of a charge of a positive 
(as distinct from a negative) electric fluid which it had not held be- 
fore, and did not hold in a normal state; nor that it possessed a 
greater share of a single electric fluid than it did in an unelectrified 
condition, as had been believed by Franklin and Watson, and by 
Dufay respectively; but that such a body contained both positive 
and negative electricities which, when the body behaved as " un- 
electrified," entirely counteracted each other, but which, on th.e 
other hand, caused a positive or negative charge to be evinced should 
either positive or negative electricity respectively preponderate. 

a^^pinus was the author of another notable theory, of which we 
must omit further mention for want of space. 


Disjointed observations connected with animal electricity had 
been accumulating for many centuries. The first chronicled note 
that refers to the subject dates back to 676 a. d. Whether or 
not entirely by chance, the Arabians named the electric eel, or tor- 
pedo, in a way that impresses us now as singularly felicitous, raad 
(the lightning). Toward the end of the last century Redi discovered 
that the shock was sometimes conveyed through the line and rod to 
the fisherman, and Kampfer compared the effects to those of electrical 
discharges. It does not appear, however, that the resemblance was 
actually believed to be more than accidental until Bancroft urged, 
in the last ten years of the eighteenth century, the view w^hich was 
shortly proved. Investigation since has shown that several other 
aquatic animals possess this astonishing manifestation of vitality, 
notably the Gymnotus electricus (Surinam eel), the Trichiurus elec- 
tricus, and the Tetraodon electricus. Humboldt gives an account 
of wonderful battles in South America between gymnoti and wild 
horses. In fact, the most expeditious method, if not the most 
humane one, of caiDturing these alarming creatures appears to be 
to drive horses into the pond inhabited by them, and to allow the 
eels to exhaust their strength by repeated electric discharges before 
endeavoring to bring them to land by other means. 

Cavendish was one of the most noted experimental investigators 
in the electrical field during the latter third of the eighteenth cen- 
tury. His work was remarkably accurate, considering the lack of a 
proper equipment for taking observations incident to operations in 
those days. He computed the relative conductivities of iron and 
water as four hundred million to unity, and found that the addition 
of but one part of common salt to one hundred of water increased the 
conductivity of the latter a hundredfold. A twenty-six-per-cent solu- 
tion of salt he found to possess only seven and one quarter times the 
conductivity of the extremely weak one mentioned. He also estab- 
lished the law that the capacity of condensers (of which the pre- 
viously mentioned Leyden jar is an example) varies directly as the 
active area, and iuA'ersely as the distance separating the conducting 
surfaces. It was reserved for later investigators to make the grand 
discoveries which relate to electrochemical dissociation, but Caven- 
dish succeeded in accurately determining the ratio of combination 
of the elements of water in a method which superficially suggests 
the inverse of electrolytic decomposition — i. e., by inducing the 
combination of hydrogen and oxygen by the electric spark in the 
instrument known as the eudiometer. 

Hard on the heels of this work came news of Galvani's remark- 
able discovery (1790) of the fact that freshly amputated frogs' legs, 
on being touched along the lines of the muscles by dissimilar metals, 


were powerfully agitated. We can only speak of this discovery as 
the stumbling on to an isolated fact, for it was reserved for Volta 
to establish the generalization that a current is produced in the con- 
ductor joining dissimilar metals when the latter are both in contact 
W'ith a suitable electrolyte (or liquid capable both of conducting elec- 
tricity and of acting on one, and incidentally also sometimes both, 
of the metals). Meantime (Du Bois-Reymond observes), " wher- 
ever frogs were to be found, and where two different kinds of metal 
could be procured, everybody was anxious to see the mangled limbs 
of frogs brought to life in this wonderful way. Physiologists be- 
lieved that at last they should realize their visions of a vital power, 
and physicians that no cure was impossible." 

Yolta first discovered merely the fact of electrification by con- 
tact. He wrote to Galvani: " I don't need your frog. Give me two 
metals and a moist rag, and I will produce your animal electricity. 
Your frog is nothing but a moist conductor, and in this respect it is 
inferior to my wet rag! " iN^obili, nevertheless, in 1825 proved the 
existence of galvanic currents in muscles. 

Later on Yolta invented the " couronne des tasses " (crown 
of cups), thus at the same time adopting the general form of cell 
used, with modifications, to-day, and producing the higher electro- 
motive force, or electrical pressure, consequent on the multiplication 
of the cells in a series battery. 

Just before Yolta's celebrated communication to the Royal Soci- 
ety, in 1800, Fabroni, of Florence, in discussing Galvani's phenome- 
non, went to the root of the matter by suggesting that the energy of 
chemical action was at the bottom of galvanic manifestations, and he 
was warmly upheld in this contention by Sir Humphry Davy, who, 
upon the publication of Yolta's discoveries, constructed a most 
elaborate battery with which (apparently about 1806) he produced 
the arc light between carbon j)encils. 

In the year referred to, Davy published the results of a series 
of experiments of enormous significance, among other things of 
the isolation of the alkali metals, sodium and potassium, whose 
existence had hitherto not been dreamed of. The simple electro- 
lytic decomposition of water had been accomplished by Xicolson 
and Carlisle in the last year of the eighteenth century. Sir "VV. S. 
Harris says : " A scries of new substances was speedily discovered, 
the existence of which had never before been imagined. Oxygen, 
chlorine, and acids were all dragged, as it were, to the positive pole, 
while metals, inflammable bodies, alkalies, and earths became deter- 
mined to the negative pole of the battery. When wires connected 
with each extremity of the new battery were tipped with prepared 
and well-pointed charcoal, and the points brought near each other, 


then a most intense and pure evolution of light followed, which on 
separating the points extended to a gorgeous arc." It was at first 
supposed that the galvanic or voltaic electricity was distinct from 
the so-called " frictional " or " ordinary " electricity. 

A distinguished contemporary of Cavendish was Coulomb, the 
value of whose work in developing certain exceedingly important 
mathematical laws with regard to action at a distance, surface den- 
sities, and rates of charge dissipation can hardly be overestimated. 
His name was given to the torsion balance which, since his day, has 
been the standard instrument for measuring electric and magnetic 
attractions and repulsions. The importance of his work has since 
been recognized by the perpetuation of his name in connection with 
the unit of quantity of electricity, as that of Yolta has been hon- 
ored by its use, abbreviated (volt), to designate the unit of elec- 
trical tension or pressure. 

Certain highly instructive and interesting data were accumulated 
about this time by Yolta, Laplace, Saussure, and the renowned 
chemist Lavoisier, in connection with the subject of electrification 
produced when evaporation, and the liberation of gases and vapors in 
general from any cause, occurs. The liquid, solid, or mixture liber- 
ating the gas was contained in a metallic dish and the resultant elec- 
trification of the latter examined qualitatively. Volta's observations 
led him to conclude that the electrification was always negative, but 
Saussure demonstrated finally that its sign was dependent on the ma- 
terial of the dish. These experimenters covered, between them all, 
a somewhat extensive field, examining, among other things, the 
electrification resulting from the ebullition of various liquids, from 
the ordinary combustion of fuel, and from the decomposition of acids 
by metals to liberate hydrogen. 

About the end of the first decade of the century Poisson attacked 
the phenomena of electricity analytically, and succeeded in demon- 
strating the right of electrical investigation to rank among the exact 
sciences. Of his most important mathematical propositions is one 
in which, assuming as a working hypothesis the existence of two 
mutually attracting fluids, he deduced formulae covering the distri- 
bution of these fluids on the surfaces of two conducting spheres, in or 
out of contact. 

A great deal of work was done during the end of the last cen- 
tury and the beginning of the present one on what is now known 
as pyro-electrification. The Abbe Haiiy discovered that fragments 
of tourmaline crystal exhibited opposite electrifications on opposite 
extremities of their lines of cleavage. It is this crystal also which has 
unusually remarkable powers of polarizing light, and which, under 
electro-magnetic stress, suffers modifications of the latter j^roperty. 


Ilaiij investigated the field witli mueli diligence, and succeeded in 
cataloguing a large number of natural crystals by the side of tourma- 
line. The subject was amplified later by Sir David Brewster, who 
added a series of artificial crystalline salts to the list of pyro-electrical 
materials, among them, notably, hydro-potassic (and sodic) tartrate. 
The property was found not always to reside on these substances, but 
to be developed by heating them. Brewster found that even pow- 
dered tourmaline exhibited opposite electrifications on the opposite 
extremities of each tiny particle, causing the latter to act, so far as 
attractions and repulsions went, as infinitesimal magnets. 

Our rapid and imperfect survey has now brought us to the 
threshold of the great activity in electrical work elicited by the tre- 
mendous discovery, made by Professor Oersted, of Copenhagen, of 
the existence of the electro-magnetic field. It happens that two of 
the most amiable and estimable individuals that have ever devoted 
their lives to scientific research stand out in this connection head and 
shoulders above all other investigators — Ampere and Faraday, the 
latter sixteen years younger than the former and destined to long 
survive him. 



IT is often said that there are no rules without exceptions. We 
purpose to test the truth of this maxim once more. Fishes are 
made to live in water, but some of them pass the greater part of 
their existence in mud. Some even perch upon trees, thus com- 
peting with birds, whose kingdom is the air, and which are able, 
Avith the aid of their wings, to plunge into space and travel rapidly 
over considerable distances. Yet there are birds, deprived by 
Xature, which do not possess the wing characteristic of the feath- 
ered tribe, and are consequently, like the majority of animals, 
pinned to the soil. 

Birds do not all have equal power of flight, which is closely re- 
lated to the extent of the development of their wings. There exist 
all grades in the spread of wings between that of the condor, which 
is four times the length of the body, whereby the bird is able to 
rise to the height of nearly twenty-five thousand feet, and the 
little winglets of the auk, which are of no use to it. The pen- 
guins have still smaller wings, which are nothing more than short, 
flattened stumps, without proper feathers and covered with a fine, 
hairlike down which might be taken for scales. 

Another group of birds exists, called appropriately Brevipennes, 


the wings of whicli are so poorly developed as to be wholly unsuit- 
able for flight. As an offset and just compensation for this, their 
long and robust legs permit them to run with extraordinary speed. 
For that reason they have been called running birds, in distinction 
from other kinds that constitute the group of flying birds. Among 
them are some gigantic birds, and also some that have no visible 
wings on the outside of their bodies, and may therefore be prop- 
erly called wingless. 

The ostrich is a member of this group. With its bare, callous 
head and short bill, its long, featherless neck, and its massive body, 
supported by long, half-bare legs, ending in two large toes; its very 
short wings, formed of soft and flexible feathers; and its plume- 
shaped tail, it presents a very special appearance among the birds. 

The nandous, the American representatives of the ostrich, have 
still shorter wings, which have no remigia at all, and terminate in 
a horny appendage, and they have no tail feathers. 

The cassowary and the emu also resemble the ostrich in many 
points, but their wings are still more reduced than those of the 
nandou. They are only slightly distinct, and can not be seen when 
the bird holds them close up to its body. In the Apteryx, the 
name of which, from the Greek, means without wings, the organs 
of flight are hardly apparent, and consist simply of a very short 
stump bearing a thick and hooked nail. The Apteryx, which is 
also called Kiwi, a native of New Zealand, is the most singular of 
living birds. The neck and the body are continuous, and the 
moderately sized head is furnished with a long beak resembling 
that of the ibis. Having long hairs similar to the mustaches of 
cats at its base, it is different from the bills of all other existing 
birds in possessing nostrils that open at its upper point. Although 
the Apteryx can not fly, it runs very fast, despite the shortness of 
its legs, and can defend itself very effectively against assailants 
by the aid of its long-nailed and sharp-nailed feet. The tail is 
absent like the wings. The very pliant feathers are extremely 
curious, of the shape of a lance-head, pendent, loose, silky, with 
jagged barbs, and increase in length as they go back from the 
neck. The bird is of the size of a fowl, and when in its normal 
position stands with its body almost vertical, and carries the sug- 
gestion of a caricature — resembling, we might say, a feathered sack, 
with only a long-billed head and the claws projecting, and one be- 
holding it feels that he is looking at some unfinished creature. It 
is a nocturnal bird, of fierce temper, and has become rare in con- 
sequence of the merciless war that is made upon it. Everything 
is strange about it, even the single egg it lays, which w^eighs about 
a quarter as much as its body. 


Together with the Apteryx, there lived in jSTew Zealand a bird 
that reached the height of nearly twelve feet — the Dinornis. It 
and the Fhororhaces and the Brontornis, which have been recently 
exhumed in Patagonia, might be regarded as the giants of birds. 
This bird was known to the natives as the Moa, and lived in troops 
like the ostriches. Its organization was very much like that of the 
Apteryx, from which it was, however, distinguished by its great size, 
long neck, and short beak. It seems to have had the aspect of an 
ostrich, with a feathered neck and no wings or tail. The feet of 
the Dinornis, with their three large toes, were really enormous. 
Isolated fragments of its bones suggest very large mammals, rather 
than birds. The femur and tibia are larger than those of a bear, 
the tibia alone being about four feet long, and the thickness, in the 
narrowest part, of the width of a man's hand, while it was more 
than seven inches in the thickest part. The sternum, on the other 
hand, was small, convex, and longer than broad. The wing could 
not have been visible on the outside of the body, for the bones that 
constitute them are proportionally smaller than those of the Apte- 
ryx. There was, therefore, a maximum reduction of the wing in 
this bird. 

The Dinornis was covered with a rich plumage, and this was 
doubtless what led to its destruction, women preferring its plumes 
to all other ornaments. The large number of bones which have 
been discovered in the alluviums, the caves, and the peat bogs of 
New Zealand authorize the thought that the island was once in- 
habited by a considerable number of these birds, which were able 
easily to repel the attacks of other animals by means of their big 
feet. But they could stand no chance against Nature's more ter- 
rible destroyer — man — who, when seeking the gratification of his 
taste and fancy, does not hesitate to exterminate whole species. 
The natives of New Zealand still recall the history of these singular 
birds; their extermination seems to have occurred about the time 
the island was visited by Captain Cook (1767-1778). Moreover, 
some of the bones collected in later years still had animal matter 
upon them. Even parts of the windpipe have been discovered, 
mixed with charcoal, and evidences of cooking have been found. 

A near relative of the Dinornis, which the Maoris regard as 
extinct, is the Notornis, of which only four living specimens have 
been found since 1842, the last one having been captured in the 
latter part of 1898. 

The eggs of the Dinornis were very large, having a capacity 
of about a gallon and being equivalent to eighty hen's eggs. Still 
larger eggs than these, however, are known. In 1851 Isidore 
Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire exhibited, in the French Academy of Sci- 


ences, eggs of a bird coming from Madagascar that liad a capacity 
of two gallons. Some specimens of these eggs may be seen in the 
galleries of the Paris Museum, and still larger eggs have been 
found. The museum in London has one with a capacity exceed- 
ing eleven quarts, or equivalent to two hundred and twenty hen's 
eggs, or more than seventy thousand humming birds' eggs. It was 
thought at first that the bird which laid these gigantic eggs was 
still living, for natives of Madagascar spoke of having seen a bird 
of colossal size that could throw down an ox and make a meal of 
it. Such, however, were not the ways of the bird called the 
Epiornis, which had no talons or wings, and fed on vegetable sub- 
stances. The description by the celebrated traveler Marco Polo 
of a great flying bird of prey, called a roc, has no reference to the 
Epiornis. M. Grandidier has demonstrated that this bird no longer 
exists in Madagascar, and that if man ever knew it the stories with 
marvelous details which the savages hand doAvn from generation 
to generation make no mention of it. "We owe to M. Grandidier, 
M. Milne-Edwards, and Major Forsyth what is known of the his- 
tory of this large wingless bird, which resembles the Dinornis in 
several points. If its size was proportioned to that of its eggs it 
should have been twice as large as the Dinornis. It was not, how- 
ever, but constituted a family represented by very diverse forms 
and of variable size, though never much exceeding eleven feet. 
The head was similar in appearance to that of the Dinornis, but 
the surface of the forehead was furrowed wdth wrinkles and cavi- 
ties, indicating the presence of a crest of large feathers. A curious 
peculiarity was the opening of the Eustachian tube directly on 
the exterior. The cervical vertebrae are very numerous, while the 
sternum is much reduced. It is a flat bone, broad but very short, 
especially in the median part. The wing also has suffered a great 
regression, for it comprises only a thin, short rod, the humerus, 
and a small osseous mass representing all the other bones of the 
wing stuck together. The Epiornis had no wings externally visi- 
ble. The bones of the feet were, on the other hand, of consider- 
able size, and indicate that the bird that possessed them was larger 
than the Dinornis. 

The Epiornis, according to M. Milne-Edwards, frequented the 
borders of waters, keeping among the reeds along lakes and rivers, 
for its bones are found associated with those of turtles, crocodiles, 
and a small hippopotamus. It most probably nested in the low 
plains around lakes. 

Just as the Apteryx among birds, and the bison and the beaver 
among mammals, so the Dinornis and the Epiornis have been de- 
stroyed as man has extended his abode and his domination. 

TOL, LTI. — 21 


Wlien we regard tlie fauna of Madagascar and of New Zealand 
we are struck by the great resemblance between them, from the 
points of view of their recent and ancient vertebrate fauna. These 
resemblances suggest the past existence of relations between these 
two lands now separated by a wide expanse of sea, and this agrees 
with geological observations. — Translated for the Popular Science 
Montldy from La Nature. 


THE description of Selous, in Men and Women of the Time, 
as " explorer, naturalist, and sportsman," is suggestive of the 
manner in which his career has been developed and his fame has 
grown. Beginning his active life as a mere hunter of big game in 
the wilds of South Africa, and known at first only as a sportsman, 
he has become recognized as one of the leading, most intelligent, 
and most efficient explorers of his time, and is accepted as the most 
eminent authority respecting what relates to the large and impor- 
tant region of -Mashonaland. 

Fkederick Courtenay Selous was born in London, the son of 
a father of Huguenot extraction and of a mother who, descended 
from the Bruces of Clackmannan, could count Robert Bruce among 
her ancestors, and was also related to Bruce, the Abyssinian trav- 
eler. He was taught at Bruce Castle, Tottenham, and then went 
to school at Rugby, where he distinguished himself by his activity, 
which was displayed in his high spirits and love of violent mischief 
and by his personal courage to such an extent that his school- 
fellows wittily nicknamed him " Zealous." 

Leaving Rugby when sixteen or seventeen years old, he spent 
two years in Switzerland and Germany, studying at l^^eufchatel and 
Wiesbaden. His hardy activity seems to have been as marked iu 
Germany as at Rugby, for it is recorded of him that he attracted 
some notice in the papers by jumping into the Rhine in Avinter 
after a wild duck which he had shot. He was not dressed for a 
swim, and, his great coat and top boots becoming filled with water, 
he had much difficulty in getting to shore with his game. His de- 
termination to achieve a career in South Africa by hunting and 
collecting specimens was apparently reached while he was still 
a youth, and at nineteen years of age he sailed from England, to 
land at Algoa Bay in 1871. Hunting was his object, as is sub- 
stantially confessed in the title of his first book, A Hunter's Wan- 
derings in Africa. The book won instant recognition as a story of 


sport and a hunter's prowess, and was regarded in that light by tho 
critics and the general public. The Royal Geographical Society, 
however, perceived other qualities in the story he had to tell, and 
gave him successively honorable mention, the Cuthbert Peake 
grant, and, in 1883, the Founder's Gold Medal, the highest honor 
it had to bestow. 

Among the earliest testimonials paid by this society to the value, 
as yet not generally appreciated, of Selous's w^ork was that given 
by Lord Aberdare, president, in his anniversary address, delivered 
in May, 1881, to the services rendered to geography in the regions 
west of Lake Nyassa by Mr. Selous, who had " hitherto been known 
as a mighty hunter of large game. . . . This gentleman, w^e learn, 
in 1878 penetrated for one hundred and fifty miles the unknown 
country north of the Zambezi, in the direction of Lake Bangweolo. 
He has since crossed in various directions the Matabele country 
south of the Zambezi, discovering two new rivers and. defining the 
course of others which had previously been laid down from vague 
information." Selous's jSI'otes on the Chobi, it appears, had al- 
ready been published by the Geographical Society. 

Mr. Selous has spent most of his time since he began his Af- 
rican wanderings in 1871, except for occasional visits to England, in 
traveling and hunting over that part of the African continent with 
Avhich his name as an explorer is associated. Li 1877 he and 
some companions penetrated into Matabeleland to hunt elejDhants. 
Relating the story of his wanderings in an address to the Royal 
Geographical Society in 1893, he described his experiences with 
fever and ague, the attacks of which began in Griqualand in 1872, 
but came on only when he halted anywhere a few days. Xorth 
of the Zambezi he made several journeys among the Balongas, 
and spent a wretched rainy season, almost without equipment, 
on the Manica table-land, of the luxuriant vegetation of which, 
with sweet-smelling flowers after the rains, he gave a glowing de- 
scription in his address. Interesting observations wore made on 
some of the northern rivers. The curious phenomena of the steady 
rise of the Avaters of the Chobi and Machabi— an outlet of the 
Okavango- — was observed from the first week in June till the last 
week in September, when the flood began to recede. 

From 1882 the journeys acquired additional geographical im- 
portance, and Mr. Selous proceeded to rectify the maps of Ma- 
shonaland made by earlier travelers, taking constant compass bear- 
ings, sketching the courses of rivers, and fixing the positions of 
tributaries. The value of this work was made manifest in a magr 
nificent large scale map of the country. 

This map, which was published in 1895, was intended, first and 


chiefly, to illustrate the work done by Mr. Seloiis while in the 
service of the South African Company; and, secondly, to embody, 
as far as possible, the knowledge possessed of the entire region 
extending from Fort Salisbury to the northward as far as the Zam- 
bezi, and to the eastward as far as the lower Pungwe. Mr. Selous's 
manuscript originals, deposited in the map room of the Royal Geo- 
graphical Society, comprise a compass survey, showing the routes 
during a year's employment in the service of the British South 
African Company, September 1, 1890, to September, 1891, on a 
scale of 1 : 255,000; a sketch map, showing the route of the Ma- 
nika Mission from Fort Charter to Umtassa's and thence to the 
camp near Mount Wedza, and also the routes taken by Mr. Selous 
from the camp near Mount Wedza to Makoni's, Mangwendi's, Ma- 
ranka's, and back to Makoni's, on a scale of 1 : 255,000; a sketch 
of routes from Umtali to Mapanda (Pungwe) and back, in 1891, 
on the same scale; a sketch of Mashonaland, showing tribal bound- 
aries, on the same scale; a rough survey map of the countries 
ruled over by the Makorikori chiefs, for which a mineral conces- 
sion had been granted to the Selous Exploration Syndicate, on a 
scale of 1 : 210,000; and about thirty sheets of manuscript maps 
and rounds of angles, utilized in the compilation of the first four 
maps of this list. 

Although Mr. Selous did not determine latitudes or longitudes, 
his long-distance compass bearings enabled him to lay down a net- 
work of triangles connecting Fort Salisbury with Masikesi. These 
triangles included Fort Charter, Sengedza, and Mavanka's in the 
south. Mount Mtemwa in the north, and Mount Dombo in the 
east; and it turns out that the distance between Fort Salisbury and 
Masikesi, as resulting from this triangulation, diifers to the extent 
of only about a mile from that obtained by careful astronomical 
observations made at the two terminal points. The greater part 
of Mr. Selous's compass bearings were taken during the rainy 
season, when the air was very clear and landmarks could be seen 
at great distances. Mr Selous's determinations of altitude were 
not so accurate, and those obtained with the aneroid were charac- 
terized by himself as " of little value." 

During all of his twenty years' wanderings Mr. Selous repre- 
sented in his address to the Poyal Geograi)liical Society, with the 
exception of a treacherous night attack made upon his camp by 
the Mashuku-Sumbwe, led by a few hostile Marotse, in 1888, he 
had never had any serious trouble with the natives. lie had gone 
among many tribes who had never previously seen a white man, 
and was always in their power, as he seldom had more than from 
five to ten native servants, none of whom were ever armed. Mr. 


Selous's pioneer work began in 1889, wiien lie conducted a gold- 
prospecting company through eastern Mashonaland. The journey 
took the party to the Portuguese settlements on the Zambezi, 
where those people were found to have a full appreciation of the 
richness of the gold region. 

The British South Africa Company, or " Chartered Company," 
as it is sometimes called, was incorporated about the same time 
(October, 1889), with power to occupy and possess the large do- 
mains that constitute what is now called Rhodesia. The return 
of Mr. Selous to the Cape of Good Hope with the report of what 
he had observed had the effect of determining the company to speed 
its operations so as to anticipate the Portuguese. Mr. Selous en- 
tered the service of the company, and, although he was not yet an 
explorer in the scientific sense, the accurate memory of his early 
wanderings over the region enabled him to guide successfully the 
pioneer expedition that took possession of Mashonaland. 

One of the sensational incidents of this campaign was the re- 
fusal of Lobengula to allow the pioneer force to use the road that 
led through Buluwayo, his capital, the only existing wagon road 
from the British frontier to the Mashonaland plateau. A new 
road was cut, under the guidance and superintendence of Mr. Se- 
lous, through four hundred and sixty miles of wilderness, the whole 
work being accomplished in two months and a half. 

Among the chiefs who submitted to the British occupation 
after the seizure of Gonvola was Moloko, ruler of the country 
north of Manica, who made a treaty with Mr. Selous. After two 
years spent in various operations for opening up the country and 
securing treaties with the native chiefs, Mr. Selous returned to Eng- 
land in December, 1892, and put the narrative of his adventures 
to press, but was called back in August, 1893, returning at very 
short notice, on account of the threatening attitude of the Mata- 
bele chief Lobengula and the consequent risk of interruption in the 
development of the country. The tribes had risen against the 
assumption of the company to claim as a territorial cession what 
they had regarded as simply a grant of mining and exploiting privi- 
leges. Mr. Selous engaged actively in the campaigTi, in which he 
is credited with having fought with great gallantry by the side of 
the colonists, and was wounded while protecting some negroes who 
had been surprised by the enemy. 

Returning again to Mashonaland, he reached there in time to 
witness a second outbreak of the natives, vexed by the triple plague 
of locusts, rinderpest, and the stringent regulations of the Char- 
tered Company's government with respect to cattle. His OAvn cat- 
tle were stolen, and he headed' a company of volunteers that went 


out to clieek the insurgents and protect the people who were still 
on their farms. 

The fruits, in acquisition to geographical knowledge, of Mr. 
Selous's adventures and explorations are to be found, mingled with 
much about sporting and exciting incident, in his books: A Hunt- 
er's Wanderings in South Africa, already mentioned; Travel and 
Adventure in Southeast Africa (1893); Sunshine and Storm in 
Rhodesia (1896); and in lectures to the Geographical Society and 
periodical contributions concerning Mashonaland. 

These books abound in observations on natural history, often 
constituting real contributions of new facts or new demonstrations 
to the science, usually occurring incidentally in the narrative of 
adventure, but sometimes given in more formal shape. The author 
avows that his conclusions respecting animals are drawn from per- 
sonal experience of the beasts, and are not influenced in any way by 
the stories of old hunters, Dutch or native. Among these notices 
are original observations on the giraffe and its habits, notes on 
buffaloes and their disposition, and remarks on variations in the 
types of South African lions. Of this animal, while some authors 
would make three species, the author believes there is only one. 
" As out of fifty male lion skins," he says, " scarcely two will be 
found exactly alike in the color and length of the mane, I think 
it would be as reasonable to suppose there are twenty species as 
three." So in !Notes upon South African Rhinoceroses, a paper 
read before the Zoological Society of London in June, 1881, and 
reprinted in this volume, Mr. Selous gives his reasons for afli rul- 
ing that there are only two species of rhinoceros in South or in 
all Africa — the square-mouthed or white Rhinoceros simus and 
the prehensile-lipped or black Rhinoceros hicornis — while the sup- 
posed Rhinoceros keitloa, or blue rhinoceros of the Boers, is merely 
a variety of the hicornis, the distinction between the two being 
based only on differences in the relative length of the horns. An- 
other paper from the Proceedings of the Zoological Society, re- 
printed here, is ISTotes on the South Central African Antelopes, em- 
bodying again only the results of the author's own observations. 
In this paper twenty-two species are described by their scientific, 
native, Dutch, and English names, and their characteristics, habits, 
appearance, and distinctions are indicated. 

In the preface to his Travel and Adventure in Southeast Africa 
Mr. Selous tells how he had determined, in 1881, upon visiting the 
ostrich farm of his friend Frank Mandy, to settle down in Africa 
for a quiet life. Then he went home and spent a few months in 
England. Visiting the ISTatural History Department of the British 
Museum, he was shown by Dr. Gunther and his associate how old 


and dilapidated some of tlie specimens were, and liow many noLle 
forms were not represented at all. He took note of what he ought 
to get should he visit the interior of Africa again. I^ext we find 
him in South Africa, not quiet on a farm as he had intended to be, 
but in the wilderness, where he spent six years (1882—87) engaged 
principally in collecting specimens " of the magnificent fauna which 
once abounded throughout the land," but many forms of which 
were now becoming scarce and some were verging on extinction. 
He shot and preserved a great many fine sjDecimens of the larger 
antelopes, some of which may be seen in the New Natural History 
Museum at South Kensington, while others are in the collection 
of the South African Museum at Cape Town. Besides the stories 
of specimen hunting and adventures with the lions that are always 
to be found where game is abundant, the volume contains much 
matter of more general interest, such as notes of personal experi- 
ences among the Boers; accounts of two expeditions sent against 
the Batauweni by Lobengula; the devastations committed by the 
Matabele in Mashonaland; valuable notes on the Bushmen or Ma- 
sarwas; accoimts of journeys beyond the Zambezi to the countries 
of the Machukulumbwi and Barotsi tribes; and a review of the past 
history and present condition of Mashonaland. We find here also 
a notice of the caves of Sinola, with a subterranean lake in the 
principal cave having water marked by a deep-blue color like that 
of the blue grotto of Capri, an account of which was published by 
Mr. Selous in the Proceedings of the Geographical Society of Lon- 
don for May, 1888. An account of Mr. Selous's Twenty Years in 
Zambezia was published in the Geographical Journal in 1893. 

Mr. Selous has done more than any other man to bring Ma- 
shonaland into notice, and is credited, together with Cecil Rhodes, 
with having contributed most to the creation of Rhodesia. The 
first comprehensive account of Mashonaland was given by him in 
the Fortnightly Review for May, 1889, when he described the 
country as a land of perennial streams in which thirst is an un- 
known quantity; with its high plateau, standing at an elevation of 
from four thoiisand to forty-six hundred feet and forming a very 
important watershed, endowed with a network of important 
streams, the springs supplying which, welling out from the highest 
parts of the downs, were capable of being applied to the irrigation 
of an enormous area, and having a salubrious climate, the continu- 
ous southwest wind giving cool breezes in summer and cold ones 
in winter. The high plateaus were further of much ethnological 
interest, in that they gave shelter to the very few remnants of the 
peaceful Mashonas who had escaped extermination at the hands 
of the Matabele. 



gatt^r'B S^Wje. 


THE address delivered by Prof. 
Michael Foster, as president 
this year of the British Association 
for the Advancement of Science, 
was not as long or elaborate as such 
addresses are wont to be, but it 
contained many thoughts of great 
value. After sketching the vast ad- 
vances in scientific knowledge made 
within the present century, he ob- 
served, with great truth, that " the 
very story of the past which tells of 
the triumphs of science puts away 
all thoughts of vainglory." Why? 
In the first place, because no one 
can study the history of science 
without being made to feel how 
very near, in many cases, the men 
of the past came to anticipating 
some of the most famous discov- 
eries and generalizations of later 
years. Translate the language of 
an earlier age into modern terms, 
and you often find that you have ex- 
pressed the most advanced scientific 
doctrine of to-day. In the second 
place, if we find a certain lack of 
definiteness and truth to fact in the 
ideas of the past, how can we be 
at all sure how our ideas will look 
when confronted with the fuller 
knowledge which doubtless our suc- 
cessors will possess ? Lastly, " there 
is written clearly on each page of 
the history of science the lesson that 
no scientific truth is born anew, 
coming by itself and of itself. Each 
new truth is always the offspring of 
something which has gone before, 
becoming in turn the parent of 
something coming after." How- 
ever great the work of a man of 
science may be, " it is not wholly 
his own; it is in part the outcome 
of the work of men who have gone 
before." In this resi^ect Professor 

Foster sees a striking difference be- 
tween the man of science and the 
poet. We always know whence the 
former came, but the latter is al- 
most as devoid of visible ancestry 
as Melchizedek. When the man of 
science dies the results which he 
achieved remain, and his work is 
taken up where he left it off ; where- 
as the poet, strictly speaking, has no 
continuators. The Homerida) do 
not represent Homer, nor do Dry- 
den and Congreve take the place of 

The story of natural knowledge 
or science, we are reminded, is a 
story of continued progress. " There 
is in it not so much as a hint of 
falling back — not even of standing 
still." The enemies of science 
sometimes seek to turn against it 
the fact that each age revises the 
conclusions of the preceding one. 
They ask. What dependence can be 
placed upon opinions or theories 
that are thus subject to change? 
The answer is that the science of 
each age is the nearest approxima- 
tion which that age can make to the 
truth, and upon some points repre- 
sents the truth with a great ap- 
proach to finality of interpretation. 
The law of gravitation, for example, 
as formulated by Newton, lies at 
the foundation of the physics of to- 
day. The circulation of the blood 
was discovered once for all by Har- 
vey. The true theory of the solar 
system was given once for all by 
Kepler, It is the gloiy of science 
that whatever of imperfection may 
lurk in a scientific theory is sure 
to be brought to light and cor- 
rected by subsequent observation 
and analysis. 

The learned professor dwelt 
briefly but forcibly upon the quali- 
ties of the scientific mind. In the 



first place, the scientific mind must 
" vibrate in unison with that of 
which it is in search." It is in 
search of truth, and it must there- 
fore vibrate in unison with truth. 
The follower of science must have a 
truthfulness beyond that of the or- 
dinary man, who does not set a great 
price upon exactness in his observa- 
tions or conclusions, and readily 
confounds things which, superficial- 
ly similar, are fundamentally differ- 
ent. Nature resents even the most 
trifling inexactness, and the care- 
less student will find that the fur- 
ther he carries his inquiries the fur- 
ther he goes astray. The scientific 
mind must also be alert. The in- 
dications and hints which Nature 
gives are sometimes very slight, and 
only one who is watchful in the ex- 
treme and attentive to the smallest 
things will catch them. Then the 
problems which Nature sets are 
often complicated, and call for a 
high degree of courage and perse- 
verance. An inquiry which seemed 
easy at first will suddenly become 
overcast by what seems the most 
hopeless obscurity, and the scien- 
tific worker, unless he possesses the 
necessary moral as well as intel- 
lectual qualities, will fail in his 
quest. Considering the character- 
istics which the pursuit of science 
tends to develop in its votaries, and 
considering that scientific method 
is now and has been for many years 
past a wonderfully devised system 
for carrying on research, Professor 
Foster is surprised that the progress 
of science is not even more rapid 
than it is. He fears that perhaps 
Science does not get the best minds 
enrolled in her service, and rather 
hints that our institutions of edu- 
cation are responsible for turning 
aside many who might lend great 
aid in the advancement of real 
knowledge to less profitable pur- 
suits. In words of almost precisely 
similar import to some that we used 
in these columns not veiy long ago, 

he observes that " that teaching is 
one-sided, and therefore mislead- 
ing, which deals with the doings of 
man only and is silent about the 
works of Nature, in the sight of 
which he and his doings shrink 
almost to nothing." The whole 
address is stamped with the high 
thoughtfulness which so eminently 
distinguishes its author, and de- 
sei'ves to be carefully pondered by 
all who would understand the char- 
acter and mission of science and 
the intellectual needs of the pres- 
ent age. 


As many of our readers will have 
learned through the daily press, Mr. 
William H. Appleton, long the head 
of the well-known publishing house 
of D. Appleton and Company, passed 
away at his home in Riverdale on 
the Hudson, October 19, 1899, hav- 
ing reached the advanced age of 
eighty-five years. As one of the 
founders of this magazine, who from 
the start was in close sympathy with 
its aims, kept up an active interest 
in its management, and was ever 
ready to aid its conductors with ad- 
vice and encouragement, it is fitting 
that a few memorial words should 
be spoken of him in these columns. 

The career of Mr. Appleton was 
a marked one in many respects. En- 
tering the book business of his fa- 
ther, Mr. Daniel Appleton, at an un- 
usually early age, he soon developed 
such an aptitude for affairs that at 
twenty-one he went abroad for the 
purpose of making the acquaintance 
of the leading foreign publishers and 
paving the way for closer relations 
with them in the importation and 
sale of their books in this country. 
Three years later, or at the age of 
twenty-four, his father made him a 
partner in the business, which had 
previously been extended so as to 
include the publication as well as 
the sale of books, and had now so 



increased in volume as to compel 
removal to more commodious quar- 
ters. Ten years of growth and 
iminterrupted prosperity followed, 
when Mr. Daniel Appleton, in 1848, 
retired from the now well-estab- 
lished firm, William H. Appleton, 
at the age of thirty-four, becoming 
its head, with his brothers John A. 
and Daniel Sidney as partners. In 
co-operation with these and other 
brothers who afterward entered the 
business, Mr. Appleton guided the 
operations of the firm for a period 
of nearly fifty years, successfully 
piloting it through several financial 
crises and carrying it to a foremost 
place among the publishing houses 
of America. 

Besides the routine of an exten- 
sive publishing business, the history 
of the house during this time in- 
cludes a number of large undertak- 
ings involving the expenditure of 
vast sums of money, and years of 
labor by many workers, and attended 
with risks that only the most far- 
seeing business sagacity could jus- 
tify. We may presume that the sev- 
eral members of the firm shared a 
common faith in the success of these 
great enterprises, but it is fair to 
infer that as the head of the house 
William II. Appleton took a leading 
part in their origin and execution. 
One of these ventures was the pub- 
lication of the American Cyclo- 
pajdia, which in its present revised 
form represents an outlay of over a 
million dollars and some ten years 
of time. Another undertaking, and 
the one that we wish more particu- 
larly to speak of here, was the ex- 
tension of the business in the line 
of popular scientific publications. 

Scientific circles in this country 
have never realized the debt they 
owe to D. Appleton and Company, 
and especially to William H. Ap- 
pleton, in this regard. It is no ex- 
aggeration to say that the advance 
of science in the United States was 
hastened by more than a quarter of I 

a century by the enlightened and 
courageous policy which led the firm 
to add this class of books to their 
lists at the time they did. Every- 
thing apparently was against it — 
nothing in its favor. Our scientific 
literature consisted mainly of a few 
text-books having only a limited 
sale. Science itself was an affair of 
laboratories and bug collectors, the 
one to be shunned and the other 
commiserated. The few utterances 
of scientific men having a bearing 
on the great questions of the right 
interpretation of Nature, man's re- 
lations to his fellows and to the 
world at large, social betterment, 
etc., that here and there arrested 
public attention were received with 
contemptuous sneers or scouted as 
the rankest infidelity. Few who are 
not past middle life will find it pos- 
sible now to realize that this was 
the general attitude toward science 
forty years ago, but we have only to 
refer the reader to the writings of 
the time for abundant confirmation 
of our statements. 

It was such conditions as these 
that the firm was called upon to face 
when considering the question of 
entering this new field of publica- 
tion. All ordinary business instincts 
were against it. Scarcely a pub- 
lisher either here or abroad would 
even listen to the proposal to risk 
his capital in such an enterprise. 
Nevertheless, Mr. Appleton, lending 
an appreciative ear to the argu- 
ments of the former editor of this 
journal and displaying his usual 
foresight, finally decided in favor 
of the project, .which afterward re- 
sulted in the introduction of the 
works of Spencer, Darwin, Huxley, 
Tyndall, Bain, Romanes, and other 
distinguished writers to American 
readers. A further step in the same 
direction, taken later, was the pub- 
lication of the International Scien- 
tific Series, now numbering some 
eighty volumes. The scheme as 
originated and shaped by Professor 



Youmans was heartily seconded by 
Mr. Appleton, as was also the plan 
of the Popular Science Monthly. 

A distinctive feature of the ar- 
rangements for the issue of all these 
foreign books, and one which re- 
dounds in no small degree to the 
credit of the firm, was the voluntary 
agreement, in the absence of an in- 
ternational copyright law, to pay 
their authors the usual royalties, 
making no distinction between them 
and authors at home. Mr. Apple- 
ton had been a lifelong advocate of 
international copyright, founding 
his contention on the simple justice 
of recognizing the property rights 
of the author, no matter where he 
lived. Although to adopt such a 
course was to expose themselves to 
the possibility of heavy loss through 
the issue of reprints by irresponsi- 
ble parties, a thing which actually 
happened in the case of a good many 
of the volumes, the principle was 
faithfully adhered to, thus antici- 
pating by many years the central 
provision of our present law. 

The storm of denunciation raised 
abroad by the appearance of the 
earlier installments of these writ- 
ings might well have deterred the 
boldest from repeating the experi- 
ment of giving them currency in 
America. But in spite of solemn 
warnings that dire consequences 
would be visited on the publisher 
who ventured to issue them here, 
the books continued to appear, while 
the predicted evils never came to 

It miTst not be inferred from the 
foregoing, however, that Mr. Ap- 
pleton was either unmindful or 
wanting in respect for the opposi- 
tion which his course aroused. 
Much of this had its origin in the 
religious convictions of the commu- 
nity, not a little of the criticism, be 
it said, emanating directly from the 
Church or its leading representa- 

tives. But, being a strong church- 
man himself, actively furthering the 
work of the Church with his pri- 
vate means and personal co-opera- 
tion, in full sympathy with its pur- 
poses, and rejoicing in its beneficent 
influence, he was the last one who 
would wantonly outrage the sacred 
beliefs of his fellow-men. Yet, 
gifted with a large-mindedness that 
is at least unusual in the walks of 
business, he was enabled to see that 
the onward march of natural knowl- 
edge which had so often before ex- 
cited alarm among men of narrow 
views could have nothing in it that 
was inconsistent with a truly reli- 
gious life ; while, on the other hand, 
to promote its advance and diffu- 
sion was to contribute by so much 
to the highest human welfare. 

The wisdom of Mr. Appleton's 
course has been fully justified by the 
event. As we look over the last half 
of the century, which has been so 
fruitful in discovery and has wit- 
nessed the development of so many 
agencies for the amelioration of hu- 
man ills and so manifold an increase 
in man's power for right living, we 
can see at the various stages of 
this evolution how large a part the 
broadening of thought fostered by 
these authors and the new aims and 
methods in inquiry suggested by 
them have contributed to the ad- 
vance. It could not, in short, have 
been made so rapidly or effectively 
without the stimulus they gave. For 
what has been done in this line in 
this country we think — when we 
reflect that it was he who had the 
courage to bring the works of those 
thinkers here, and who made them 
accessible to students and the read- 
ing public, who constituted the 
agency through which the new 
thoughts and aims were spread — a 
very important part in the achieve- 
ment may fairly be ascribed to Mr. 
William H. Appleton. 


Owing to the increasing demands upon our space, authors and pub- 
lishers are notified that hereafter the department of Scientific Literature, 
with the exception of Publications Received, will be discontinued. 


The busy pen of Mr. John Fisl-e has produced another book marked 
by the qualities which the public has learned to associate with all his work 
— lucidity of expression, felicity of illustration, a large command of the 
conventional elements of literary composition, and a philosophy which, 
while verj"- free and lightsome in its steps and paces, always has the luck 
to fetch up within easy hailing distance of a moderate orthodoxy. Mr. 
Fiske undertakes to conduct us on an excursion Through Nature to God* 
somewhat as Cook, of international fame, might undertake to see us 
safe from 'New York to the Holy Land. Of the two, we think Cook 
makes the surer thing of it; yet no one can deny that Mr. Fiske has 
done his best to trace the itinerary and encourage his excursionists to 
believe that they will " get there." 

We may as well candidly confess that we have not much faith in the 
method followed in the work before us. The intention is to show that 
an analysis of Nature and of Nature's ways yields God ; in other words, 
that we have only to carry out the processes of thought which an ex- 
amination of the external world and of human history sets in motion in 
order to find God at the end of the argument. Thus, by searching, con- 
trary to what Scripture has generally been held to imply, we find out 
both that God is and to some extent what he is. We prefer the older 
view. The world's greatest Teacher said simply, " God is a spirit." He 
did not say that this was a conclusion to which many lines of argument 
led. He did not hint at any kind of argument, but assumed the affirma- 
tion of God by the human consciousness. We venture to say that if 
Mr. Fiske's method were successful and we could argue ourselves into 
a belief in God, the result would be disastrous; for the God of argument, 
or even of analogy, is not the God of the human soul or conscience. 
We should have one conclusion more of science, but we should lose that 
for which no conclusion of science could make amends — our sense of the 
infinite and the possibility of faith. 

Mr. Fiske discusses, in the early chapters of his book. The Mystery of 
Evil. He takes the familiar ground that evil is the necessary correlative, 
and in a manner the necessaiy condition, of good. We are placed in a 
universe that abounds in evil in order that by conquering it we may raise 
ourselves to a moral level otherwise impossible. On one page the author 
goes so far as to say that God, and not the devil, " is the creator of evil," 
but elsewhere he relaxes his boldness and speaks of evil being " per- 
mitted." One feels like asking. If good and evil are equally made by 
God, then which is which? When we speak of electricity as positive and 
negative we do not ascribe any superiority to one over the other. Nor 
do we say that centrifugal is a more commendable form of force than 

* Through Nature to God. By John Fiske. Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifllin & Co, 


centripetal, or vice versa. " For strong and resolute men and women," 
we are told, " an Eden would be but a fool's paradise." This is not com- 
plimentary to our first parents in their primitive condition of innocence, 
and it puts the curse pronounced upon them in a somewhat equivocal 
light. There is also quite a rehabilitation of the " serpent," who, it 
seems, knew quite well what he was talking aboixt and gave excellent 
advice. We wonder whether Mr. Fiske is really of opinion that it helps 
us to solve any of the practical problems of life to be told that without 
evil there could not be good. Men have known for centuries that it is 
good to fight evil, though what evil is essentially they have often been in 
doubt. Upon the latter point Mr. Fiske does not in the least attempt 
to enlighten us; and yet it should be rather a more hopeful enterprise 
to attempt to show us what is specifically evil and ought therefore to 
be resisted, than to vindicate evil in general as the indispensable con- 
dition of good, and something, therefore, which God was justified in 

The second division of the book deals with The Cosmic Roots of Love 
and Self-Saerifice. We can not see that these roots are traced further 
back than the mother's affection for her offspring. Mother's love is 
doubtless an old story in the world by now, and perhaps as good a story 
as earth has to tell ; but it seems to us that the " cosmic " character of it 
is not very apparent. We may believe that it was destined to come in 
the fullness of time, but this can be said equally of all that exists. " I 
think it can be shown," says Mr. Fiske, " that the principles of morality 
have their roots in the deepest foundations of the universe; that the 
cosmic process is ethical in the profoundest sense; that, in that far-off 
morning of the world when the stars sang together and the sons of God 
shouted for joy, the beauty of self-sacrifice and disinterested love formed 
the chief burden of the mighty theme." All we can say in regard to this 
is that Mr. Fiske has not sho"wn it. He has shown just what we all knew 
before — that love exists in the world, that it antagonizes selfishness, and 
that human beings are endowed with a moral and religious sense — but 
he has not made it plain that the meaning of the universe is to be found 
in these (as we regard them) higher developments. He has himself ac- 
knowledged that, on a broad view of the world-wide struggle for life, 
there are no moral elements to be seen. 

Religion, as we hold, is its own justification. There is more of re- 
ligion in one verse of the Psalms than in all the Theodicies that ever 
were written. " As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my 
soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God." 
Here is the whole essence of the matter — the affinnation of the human 
heart that there is something or some one beyond and above the mesh of 
circumstance and fact in which our lives are involved ; something or some 
one who authenticates all that is good, and everlastingly condemns what 
is evil; something or some one to which or to whom the soul gravitates 
as to nothing else in the universe. When this affirmation is strong, re- 
ligious life is strong; when it is weak, religious life is weak; should it 
cease entirely, then religion is dead. The book Mr. Fiske has given us 
is interesting from first to last — all his books are interesting — but it 
does not increase our knowledge, nor does it add to our knowledge faith. 




The author of Extemporaneoiis Ora- 
tory for Professional and Amateur 
Speakers * is himself one of the most 
eflective orators, especially in debate, of 
the time. He has embodied in this book 
the results of ripened thought and suc- 
cessful experience gained in a field in 
which he is a master, for the instruc- 
tion and help of those who would fol- 
low what he regards as the greatest of 
all arts, including the elements of all — 
music in the intonations of the voice, 
and painting and sculpture in the life, 
attitudes, and expression of the speaker. 
It is an art, too, which has wielded a 
more general and important influence 
than any other, which is almost uni- 
versal in its appeals, and which any 
one may at any time find useful, when 
it will be of great advantage to him to 
possess the ability " to speak distinctly 
to the purpose, gracefully, with genu- 
ine fire." Extemporaneous oratory con- 
cerns the delivery, in form and lan- 
guage suggested by the occasion, " of 
ideas previously conceived and adopted 
with more or less fullness and precision, 
together with such thoughts and feel- 
ings as may arise and obtain utter- 
ance." It has many advantages over 
other methods of oratory, all tending 
to give the speaker greater power over 
his audience, and particularly in the 
fact that the extemporizer is at all 
times ready to expound, defend, illus- 
trate, and enforce his opinions. The ex- 
temporaneous speaker must have a full 
and fluent command of language, and 
a full store of facts which he may at 
any time have to bring to bear upon 
the subject of his address and in the 
vindication of his opinions. The first 
place of importance is given to facts of 
natural science, which are of increas- 
ing utility. " To the educated and un- 
educated alike, natural science is now 
the most interesting of themes." Next 
come the facts of history and biog- 
raphy, those of the special branches 
bearing on the speaker's theme and pur- 
pose, and the great general conceptions 
included in the thoughts of the learned; 

• E.Ktemporaneons Oratory for Professional 
and Amateur Speakers. By James M. Buckley. 
New York : Eaton & Mainp. Pp. 480. Price, 

and he must have settled opinions. At 
the basis of Dr. Buckley's treatment of 
this art and of his advice to those who 
would perfect themselves in it is the 
principle that extemporization is evo- 
lution after involution. This advice, in 
which the various phases of the subject 
are commented upon under a great va- 
riety of aspects, concerns the general 
preparation for the address, the acqui- 
sition of eflfective command of language, 
the exercise and training of the voice, 
the intellectual and physical elements 
that enter into oratory, its accessories, 
and the factor of the audience — all 
plainly and practically presented, with 
a facility of style that makes the read- 
ing of the book a pleasure. 

Readers of the Popular Science 
Monthly have already had an oppor- 
tunity of perusing some of the narrative 
and observations which Professor Heil- 
prin has embodied in his Alaska and 
the Klondike* In it he has attempted 
to portray that remarkable region in its 
true aspects. Professor Heilprin is well 
able to do so, for he is a keen observer 
and looks with a scientifie eye, and his 
literary style is free and graphic. He 
made a summer journey to the region 
last year (1898), between the end of 
July and the middle of October, with 
the object of being " able to determine 
between fact and fancy, and to obtain 
a personal knowledge of the region and 
its varied conditions." What he saw 
and heard is here presented. While by 
no means pretending to that degree of 
accuracy and of proper insight which 
can only come with more protracted 
and intimate knowledge, the author be- 
lieves that he has given a careful and 
unprejudiced account. Persons whose 
ideas of the regions about Dawson are 
associated with visions of arctic se- 
verity and sterility may be a little sur- 
prised at reading of one's looking from 

* Alaska and the Klondike. A Jounicy to the 
New Eldorado. Wi h Hints to the Traveler and 
Observations on the Physical lliftory and Goolofjy 
of the Gold Regions, the Condition.* and Methods 
of working the Klondike Placers, nnd the Laws 
governing and regiiinting Miiiinf; in the North- 
west Territory of Canada. By Angelo IIeili)rin. 
New York: D. Appleton and Company. Pp. 815. 
Price, $1.75. 



the heights about the town northwest- 
ward " over a most lovely stretch of 
river, with hillsides closely besetting it, 
and with a vegetation of most striking 
brilliancy and vigor," and of the eye 
turned southward, losing, in conse- 
quence of the diflferent configuration of 
the ground, " all but the beautiful ver- 
dant slopes which still mark out the val- 
ley " ; of the beholder being able for hours 
at a time to sit watching the beauty of 
the landscape; and of the difficulty of 
recommending to one endowed with a 
proper appreciation for the works of 
quiet Nature " a more enjoyable exer- 
cise than to take in a bit of this won- 
derful land of the North, and with it 
a mellow sunshine that is not to be 
found elsewhere." These pretty land- 
scape pictures of the arctic summer are 
followed by accounts of society at the 
Klondike as the author found it, of the 
trail, steamboat travel, and the routes 
to the region; a description of the 
placers, their occurrence, and the meth- 
ods of mining; observations on the 
physical history and geology of the gold 
fields; and a summary of the laws regu- 
lating mining. In the summary of his 
geological discussion the author ex- 
presses the opinion that it seems prob- 
able that " the Ivlondike gold region is 
merely a fractional pai't of a discontinu- 
ously continuous auriferous tract that 
extends in a westerly course into the 
heart of Alaska, and southward into 
British Columbia." 

Mr. BuUen's Idylls of the ^ea * com- 
prises three groups of essays, each group 
being marked by distinct characteristics. 
The sketches in the first group, the 
designation of which gives the name to 
the book, answer approximately well to 
Mr. Strachey's estimation of the whole 
as " some of the most vivid things ever 
written about the sea," such as only . a 
man who really knows the sea in all its 
humors, and " has heard all those mul- 
titudinous voices that echo along the 
waste spaces of the deep," could write. 
There is something weird about them, 
and they have the air of mystery and 
superstitious awe with which, according 
to tradition, the sailor regards the im- 

* Idylls of the Sea. By Frank T. Bullen. 
With an Introduction by J. St. Loe Strachey. 
New York: D. Appleton and Company. Price, 

perfectly understood features of the sea. 
They are short stories of curious or 
striking incidents of sea life. The essays 
of the second group are real natural-his- 
tory sketches — accounts of some oceanic 
birds, the kraken, sharks, the devilfish, 
etc., by a man who is well and scientifi- 
cally acquainted with them. The third 
group includes longer sketches of sea- 
farers' life, rather more actual ones than 
those of the first group, and papers 
having a critical bearing on the present 
conditions of British seamanship. 

The constant advance in the knowl- 
edge of dietetics makes it desirable that 
its results should be put in an accessible 
form, and this is particularly the case in 
regard to food for those in ill health, to 
whom it may be the means of restoring 
the normal condition. In her book on 
Diet in Illness and Convalescence* the 
author has endeavored to present the 
substance of Diet for the Sick, now out 
of print, together with recent thought 
on the subject, especially in the treat- 
ment of typhoid and malarial fevers, 
which we owe in such variety to the 
present war. An outline is given for 
suitable food in the more common forms 
of disease, suggestions for serving meals 
tastefully to an invalid, and numerous 
recipes for beverages, soups, dishes of 
meats, vegetables, and desserts. Some of 
these are taken from English and French 
treatises; others are contributions of 
American cooks, and include many novel 
and excellent ideas. From the prepara- 
tion of koumiss and ]\Iay wine to tlie 
manipulation of Dixie biscuit there is 
no want of explicitness, and one is 
tempted to covet the state of convales- 
cence in which he could fare upon such 
attractive compounds as rose, violet, or 
amethyst jelly. A word of caution is 
inserted now and then. We are told " a 
fritter of any kind should never be men- 
tioned in an invalid's book." Macaroni 
croquettes and souffle of shad roe are, 
however, admissible. The beginning of 
the volume is devoted by the author to 
a brief consideration of the constituents 
of food and processes of digestion, with 
directions for the use of the pancreatic 
ferments. There are unfortunately many 
disputed points concerning a fit dietary 

* Diet in Illness and Convalescence. By Alice 
Worthington Winthrop. New York : Harper & 
Brothers. Pp. 286. 



in illness; not only idiosyncrasies of con- 
stitution but incomplete knowledge of 
physiological chemistry still render the 
problem difficult. New foods are con- 
stantly introduced which subsequent ex- 
periment proves to be harmful. The last 
dictum, we believe, in regard to saccha- 
rin is that it is not wholly innocuous, 
so that it might be as well for the dia- 
betic patient to learn to do without 
sweets in the beginning, while as for 
the digestive ferments, they are at the 
least hazardous concoctions. We can 
not be too wary of artificial substitutes 
and laboratory products which claim the 
virtues of organic material or living pro- 

The reason for the being of Jolin 
Munro's The Story of the British Race * 
is briefly indicated in the preface as to 
be found in tlie fact that the current 
ideas on the subject are derived from 
the views of historians representing the 
doctrines of an earlier and less critical 
generation, while the fact is overlooked 
that the new science of anthropology, 
using careful observations and exact 
methods, has put the real nature of the 
British people in a light in which it was 
never seen so clearly before. Tlie result 
is that the old ideas on the subject have 
been greatly modified. Mr. Llunro be- 
lieves that his little book is the first 
attempt to bring these important results 
and views of modern anthropologists be- 
fore the general public in familiar lan- 
guage, whereby the oversights of his- 
torians and teachers may be I'edeemed. 
An important error to be controverted, 
in the author's view, lies in the fine- 
drawn distinctions and sharply defined 
demarcations that have been made be- 
tween Celts and Saxons. It is inferred 
from anthropology that the population 
of the British Isles is a mixture of all 
the races of western Europe, in which 
the Teutonic and Mediterranean ele- 
ments — " the aborigines of Europe " — 
predominate, while " the intrusive Celtic 
race from Asia," still represented by the 
Bretons, passed into the British Isles in 
comparatively small numbers. Scotland 
is perhaps more Teutonic and less Medi- 
terranean than England, Wales, or Ire- 

* The Story of the British Race. (Library of 
Useful Stories.) By John Munro. New York : 
D. Appleton and Company. Pp. 228. Price, 40 

land. Wales is the least Teutonic and 
the most Mediterranean, if not Celtic, 
of the three. England has more of the 
Dutch and Low Country elements than 
of the Scandinavian, with apparently 
not far short of an equal share of the 
ilediterranean and Teutonic elements. 
Ireland is perhaps as Teutonic as Eng- 
land, though the better fusion of the 
elements may disguise the fact. The 
author thinks that the first chapters of 
English history will have to be written 
over again by the light of anthropology. 

The Eighteenth Annual Report of the 
United States Geological Survey * men- 
tions, as an important change in the 
held work that made necessary by the 
legislation providing for the establish- 
ment of levels and permanent monu- 
ments and bench marks, of which 10,840 
miles of levels were run and 1,820 bench 
marks were established. The topographic 
surveys to date covered an aggregate 
area of 759,525 square miles, of which 
240,000 square miles were on a scale of 
four miles to the inch. The topographic 
work has progressed very satisfactorily 
under the present organization of the 
survey, including, in the year covered by 
tlie report, surveys in the Indian Terri- 
tory and of the northern part of the 
boundary line between Idaho and Mon- 
tana — the first work of the kind as- 
signed to the Geological Survey — and 
the beginning of the survey of the forest 
reserves. The work on the educational 
series of rocks has been completed. It 
includes two hundred and fifty larger 
and smaller sets, which will be distrib- 
uted to institutions where geology is 
taught. In his general report the di- 
rector mentions the work of more than 
thirty geological parties in all parts of 
the United States, of six paleontological 
parties, hydrographic and topographic 
surveys by States, and the work of the 
division of mineral resources, the full ac- 
count of which will constitute Part V of 
the report. The theoretic and other 
papers in Part II relate to the Triassic 

* Eighteenth Annual Report of the United 
States Geological Surrey to the Secretary of the 
Interior, 18n6-'97. Charles D. Walcott, Director. 
In Five Parts. Director's Report, including Tri- 
nngulation and Spirit Leveling. Pp. 4.')0, with 
4 plates. Part IT; Papers chiefly of a Theoretic 
Nature. Pp. 053, with 10.5 plates. Part III; Eco- 
nomic Geology. Pp. 861, with 118 plates. Part 
IV; Hydrography. Pp. 756, with 102 plates. 



Formation of Connecticut (W. M. Da- 
vis), Geology of the Edwards Plateau, 
etc., Texas (R. T. Hill and J. W. 
Vaughan), North American Tertiary 
Horizons (W. H. Dal 1), Glaciers of Mount 
Rainier (I. C. Russell) and Rocks of 
Mount Rainier (G. O. Smith), The 
Franklin White Limestone of New Jer- 
sey (J. E. Wolfe and A. H. Brooks), the 
Geology of San Clemente Island (W. S. 
T. Smith), Geology of the Cape Cod Dis- 
trict (N. H. Shaler), and Recent Earth 
Movement in the Great Lakes Region 
(G. K. Gilbert). Part III contains pa- 
pers on the gold districts of Alaska, by 
G. F. Becker, J. E. Spurr, and H. B. 
Goodrich ; Coal Fields of Puget Sound ( B. 
Willis), the Judith Mountains of Mon- 
tana (W. H. Weed and L. V. Pirsson), 
Certain Mining Districts in Idaho (W. 
Lindgren and F. H. Knowlton), and the 
Mining Districts of the Telluride Quad- 
rangle, Colorado (C. W. Purington). The 
four papers in Part IV are a Report of 
Progress of Stream Measurements dur- 
ing 1S96, by A. P. Davis; the Water Re- 
sources of Indiana and Ohio, by Frank 
Leverett; New Developments in Well- 
boring in South Dakota, by N. H. Dar- 
ton; and Water Storage and the Con- 
struction of Dams, by J. D. Schuyler. 

The purpose of Belle S. Cragin's Our 
Insect Friends and Foes * is illustrated 
from a passage in the author's own life, 
cited in the preface : " In my younger 
days, when Nature study was unknown 
in schools and my problems had to be 
solved by my own investigations or re- 
main unsolved, I used to long for some- 
body to write a book that would tell me 
the things I wished to know, or show me 
how to find them out for myself; and 
that is what I have tried to do for you." 
The beginning of the book is a chapter 
on the collection, preservation, and care 
of insects for specimens, giving explicit 
directions for collecting them perfect, for 
putting them to death, for mounting and 
placing them in the cabinet, and for pro- 
tecting them against vermin, dust, and 
mold, with descriptions of the instru- 
ments, cases, etc., that are used. In the 
descriptions of insects no attempt is 
made to mention any except the com- 

* Our Insect Friends and Foes. How to Col- 
lect, Presen-e, and Stndy them. By Belle S. Cra- 
gin. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. Pp.377. 
Price, $1.75. 

VOL. LTI — 22 

monest species, and not all of those. The 
habitat, in most cases, is included in the 
description. As a rule, most of the spe- 
cies are those found in the States east 
of the Rocky Mountains and north of 
the Gulf States. Scientific names are at- 
tached to the illustrations and a list 
of popular names, with their scientific 
equivalents. The descriptions are brief 
and well adapted to the purpose indi- 
cated in the quotation with which our 
notice begins. 

In presenting a revision of their 
Plane and Solid Geometry * Messrs. 
Beman and Smith express their belief 
as being, that amid all the schemes for 
breaking away from the formal proofs 
of Euclid and Legendre and leading the 
student to independent discovery, the 
best results are secured by setting forth 
a minimum of formal proofs as models, 
and a maximum of unsolved or un- 
proved propositions as exercises. They 
likewise share in the belief that such 
of the notions of modern geometry as 
materially simplify the ancient should 
find place in our elementary text-books. 
Accordingly, they have introduced va- 
rious ideas, such as those of one-to-one 
correspondence, anti-parallels, negative 
magnitudes, general figures, prismatic 
space, similarity of point systems, etc., 
which are of real use in the early study 
of the science. In general, whatever is 
found to be usable in elementary work 
has been inserted where it will prove 
of most value. 

The plan of the investigation under- 
taken by Mr. Walter Smith in his Meth- 
ods of Knoicledge t is, first, to give a 
definition of knowledge. The methods 
are then considered by which men have 
thought it possible to attain knowledge 
of the self on the one hand, and the 
not-self on the other. The common 
view of philosophers and men of science 
that truth is given in general concepts, 
or universals, or categories, is taken up, 
and the special form of the doctrine 
given in empiricism is considered and 
found to be a doctrine wanting in all 
its forms. Yet it is pointed out that 

* New Plane and Solid Geometry. By W. W. 
Beman and D. E. Smith. Boston: Ginn & Co. 

Pp. ?m. 

t Methods of Knowledge. An Essay in Episte- 
mology. New York : The Macmillan Company. 
Pp. 340. Price, §1.25. 



the concept has its uses in the mental 
economy. The method is then expound- 
ed of knowing the not-self as being 
gained by sympathetic imitation. It is 
then determined wherein self-knowledge 
consists, and the bearing of this theory 
on the philosophical problem and on 
certain practical questions is indicated. 

Tn The PhUosopliii of Memory and 
Other Essays * Dr. D. T. Smith develops 
a theory of mental action, the basis of 
which is the setting up in the cells of 
the gray matter of the brain, and pos- 
sibly of the spinal cord, of orderly 
grouping of waves or vibrations among 
certain atoms or molecules by what- 
ever may affect any of the senses; that 
tiiesc undulations are realized first as 
sensations, and then group themselves 
so as to form perceptions, ideas, emo- 
tions, etc. They rise in succession into 
the scope of consciousness. After a time 
the eft'ect of these vibrations in con- 
sciousness is weakened, without per- 
haps utterly passing away, and retains 
the possibility of being re-enforced by 
kindred vibrations in harmony with it. 
This is memory. 

In The Psychology of Reasoning f 
31. Alfred Binet makes reasoning a 
process of the formation of mental im- 
ages. He finds no decided difference 
between perception — the cognizance of 
sensations and assignment of them to 
their source — and logical reasoning. 
" The two operations are both reason- 
ings, transitions from the known to the 
unknown"; "the two extremes of a 
long series of phenomena." A premise 
is " a judgment, an association of im- 
ages," and a conclusion that follows 
from the premises is " an association of 
images produced by other associations." 
The theory of three images— the two 
premises and the conclusion — " is ap- 
plicable to reasonings of every kind, and 
therefore constitutes a general theory 
of reasoning. ... If it be recollected 
that images are fragments, residues of 
former sensations; that they spring 
from the place where former sensa- 

* The Philosophy of Memory and Other Es- 
says. By D. T. Smith. Louisville, Ky.: John 
P. Jlorton & Co. Pp. X!03. 

+ The Psychology of Reasoning. Based on 
Experimental Keseurches in Ilypnotisra. By Al- 
fred Binct. Chicago : The Open Court Publish- 
ing Company. Pp. 191. 

tions have been received, in the sensory 
centers of the cerebral surface layers, 
it will be understood that the purpose 
of these images in grouping themselves 
in reasonings, according to the laws of 
their afiinity, is to replace the absent 
sensations. Such is therefore the func- 
tion of reasoning; it enlarges the sphere 
of our sensibility, and extends it to all 
objects which our senses can not know 
directly. Thus understood, reasoning is 
a supvlementary sense, which has the 
advantage of being free from those 
strict conditions of time and space — the 
two enemies of human knowledge." 
In memory, " the suggested image is 
projected and localized in the panorama 
of the past, of which it appears t5 be a 
fragment." Imagination is " a faculty 
of creating assemblages of images which 
do not correspond to any external re- 

The idea of preparing Who's Who in 
America* was suggested by the success 
of the English book. Who's Who? now 
in its fifty-second year, and the work 
has been prepared on similar lines. Its 
purpose is to supply information con- 
cerning living American men and 
women who have achieved distinction, 
who hold recognized public positions, 
and who have contributed so as to have 
it talked about to the growth, develop- 
ment, knowledge, and civilization of the 
country. Eight thousand six hundred 
and two such persons are represented 
in this book, inchuling, ex-officio, all 
members of the Fifty-sixth Congress, 
Governors of States and Territories now 
in office. United States, State, and ter- 
ritorial judges of courts of high juris- 
diction, persons of other prominent offi- 
cial classification, national academicians, 
members of the National Academy of 
Sciences, heads of the larger universities 
and colleges, and a few others chosen on 
similar arbitrary lines. Special effort 
has been made to include all living 
American authors of books of more than 
ephemeral value, 'i'he data for the book 
have been obtained from first hands, 
except in a A'cry few cases, where the 
modesty of the subjects made it neces- 

* Who's Who in America. A Biographical 
Dictionary of Living Men and Women in the 
United States, ]«i)9-190(). Edited by John W. 
Leonard. Chicago : A. N. Marquis & Co. Pp. 



sary to supply the material from other 
sources, when the articles were submit- 
ted to the subjects for revision. 

In The Down of Reason* Dr. Weir 
has provided a most interesting book 
for the unscientific reader as well as for 
the comparative psychologist. He traces 
the gradual unfolding of conscious mind 
in animal life from the actinophryans 
which discriminates between the grains 
of starch and sand, and the Stentor 
which changes its position to catch a 
ripened spore, to the higher forms that 
decorate their homes, exhibit parental 
affection, exercise mathematical faculty, 
and extricate themselves from unfore- 
seen dangers. As the field of observa- 
tion of the senses of touch, taste, and 
smell has been so thoroughly worked 
by Lubbock and other naturalists, spe- 
cial attention is paid by the author to 
the senses of sight and hearing, in regard 
to which he furnishes new and valuable 
data. In addition to these he claims to 
establish the fact that tinctumutations 
and " homing " are auxiliary senses — not 
instincts. He located the center of color 
changing in the frog exactly below the 
optic, and by artificial stimulation pro- 
duced the alteration in tint, and by ex- 
cision, or ti'eatment with atropine, de- 
stroyed the chromatophoric function. 
By experimentation upon snails he found 
the center of the sense of locality at the 
base of the cephalic ganglion, and, re- 
moving it, rendered them unable to re- 
turn to their homes. Many anecdotes 
are given showing that the lower orders 
of animal life exercise conscious deter- 
mination, and that among those with 
more complex nervous systems there is 
a mind akin to that of man. Not only 
do animals remember friends, strangers, 
and events, but they love, hate, and 
fear. They evince aesthetic feeling also 
when the spider ornaments its web with 
logwood flakes, the dog howls in har- 
monic accord with the church bell, and 
salamanders assemble at the sound of a 
piccolo. Still higher psychical attributes 
are those of animals that show parental 
alfection or ability to count, like the 
mason wasp, which provides invariably 
five spiders for the male larva and eight 
for the female; or the harvester ants 

* The Dawn of Reason. By James Weir, Jr., 
M. D. New York : The Macmillan Company. 
Pp. aU. Price, $1.25. 

that plant their grain, wood and win- 
now it. Examples are cited of the ca- 
pacity of the elepluuit to form abstract 
ideas and of the dog to indulge in brown 
studies. The author scouts at the the- 
ory that " specialized instinct," or " in- 
telligent accident," prompts actions in 
animals which in man would be ascribed 
to reason. " Instinct," he writes, " is 
the bugbear of psychologists," and there- 
upon he diflerentiates sharply the two 
sadly confused functions. 

In the thesis entitled A Step For- 
icard, F. Theodor KriKjer proposes, as a 
measure of possible social reform, plac- 
ing the medical and legal professions 
wholly under the direct control of the 
civil authorities, to be exercised through 
duly constituted boards or departments 
of the several communities. 

In his study of Centralized Adminis- 
tration of Liquor Laws in the American 
Commonwealths (Columbia University 
Studies in History, Economics, and Pub- 
lic Law) Clement M. L. Sites finds that 
widely variant policies are followed by 
the several States in the regulation of 
the liquor traffic, all based upon the 
broad powers of taxation and police. 
While we hear much of characteristic 
plans of regulation, little is said about 
characteristic systems of administration. 
This is because the liquor laws are 
administered incoherently. There is no 
consensus, even within the Common- 
wealth, in standards of administration. 
Each community practically determines 
for itself how the law shall be enforced, 
and we have all degrees of enforcement, 
from rigid severity to none. The vari- 
ous plans of regulation are classified by 
the author according to the dominant 
aspect in which they regard the liquor 
traffic. It has been treated as an open 
traffic, subject simply to taxation and 
reasonable safeguards; as a necessary 
but dangerous business, to be limited 
to approved persons and places and sur- 
rounded by special safeguards; as a 
criminal enterprise, to be suppressed, 
like highway robbery; and as a subject 
of legal monopoly. It is the purpose of 
Mr. Sites's essay to follow the develop- 
ments of centralized administration that 
have taken place in recent years in each 
of these spheres, and in that of the in- 
stitution and maintenance of judicial 
proceedings. The phases of current de- 



A'elopment tliat seem to merit special 
note are the substitution of the liquor- 
tax system for the license system, the 
extension and elaboration of local op- 
tion, the contingent central control of 
city police administration, and the rec- 
ognition of the general province of ad- 
ministration. The author's study shows 
that these developments accord in gen- 
eral with the laws of evolution, each 
representing some special aspect of the 
difTerentiation. In considering the " dis- 
})ensary " plan, ' illustrated in South 
Carolina, a significant contribution to 
current thought is remarked in the ap- 
proval it gives to the use of liquors as 
a beverage, while their abuse is disap- 
proved in an equally marked degree, a 
distinction being attempted here, with 
correspondingly difTerent methods of 
treatment between those who can be 
trusted with liquors and those who 
can not. 

The Report of the United States Com- 
missioner of Fish and Fisheries for the 
year ending June 30, 1898, represents 
that the operations of the division of fish 
culture were in some respects more im- 
portant during that than in any pre- 
ceding year. This was owing in part 
to the natural growth of the work, and 
in part to greater efficiency in dealing 
with the various questions and problems 
that came up for consideration. The 
propagation and distribution of food 
fishes exceeded by about forty per cent 
the work accomplished in any other 
twelve months. The steady increase in 
the catch of shad is cited as being con- 
clusive evidence of the value of arti- 
ficial propagation. The constant decline 
in the lobster fishery accentuates the ne- 
cessity for increased work in that line. 
I'he cfYorts to acclimatize food fishes in 
waters to wliich they are not indigenous 
have been continued. The special papers 
publislied in connection with the report 
relate to mackerel investigations, the 
alewife fisheries, the oyster beds of Lou- 
isiana, the sliad fisheries of the Atlan- 
tic coast, reports of fishes obtained in 
sea explorations, a list of publications, 
and a report of the exhibit at the Ten- 
nessee Centennial. 

The Tenth Annual Report of the In- 
terstate Commerce Commission on the 
statistics of Raihoays in the United 
States covers the year ending June 30, 

1897. The year is characterized as hav- 
ing been for the transportation industry 
one " of deferred expectations." While 
the years from 1890 to 1893 each closed 
with increased gross earnings as com- 
pared with the preceding year, 1893-'94 
was disastrous, showing a large de- 
crease; no recovery took place in 1894- 
'95, but an increase took place in 1895- 
'96. A downward turn came again in 
the year of the present report, with no 
revival till the last month of the twelve. 
The total increase in mileage for the 
year of the report was only 1,651.84 
miles, the smallest increase and the 
smallest percentage of increase noted in 
any year since 1890. " In many States," 
says the report, " railway construction 
seems to have been practically aban- 
doned. Especially is this noticeable in 
the more populous districts of the coun- 
try — a result which is not entirely due 
to the general commercial depression, 
but to the marvelous increase in electric 
railways for suburban and short-dis- 
tance traffic. The influence of electric 
construction upon steam transportation 
is noted in certain of the reports of State 
railway commissions for the current 
year." These are only tAvo of the nu- 
merous interesting facts presented in the 

Small Accumulators, how Made and 
Used, is the first of a series of popular 
scientific handbooks for students and 
engineers. The particular subject has 
been selected for beginning the series 
under the suggestion of a large number 
of requests for advice which the author, 
Percival Marshall, had received in his 
capacity as editor of the Model Engi- 
neer and Amateur Electrician. The 
work is intended to be an elementary 
handbook — " a practical and trustwor- 
thy guide " — for amateurs and students. 
The theory of tlie accumulator is ex- 
plained, directions are given for making 
them, types of small accumuhxtors are 
illustrated, the charging and use of ac- 
cumulators are explained, and the ap- 
plications are shown. Useful receipts 
and a glossary of technical terms are 
given. (The book is published by Spon 
& Chamberlain, New York. Price, 50 

In his Better World rhilosophy — a 
8ociolof)ical Si/nthesis (Chicago: the 
Ward Waugh Company), J. Howard 



Moore utters a protest against the ego- 
ism or selfishness of our day, and sug- 
gests an ideal scheme. The problem of 
life is defined as being the relation of 
each individual to the rest of the uni- 
verse, and is peculiarized by the exist- 
ence of the social problem involving 
relations of individuals to each other 
difTerent from those sustained to the im- 
personal universe. There are in the na- 
ture of living beings the egoistic ele- 
ment, which impels action in behalf of 
self, and the altruistic element, which 
prompts or prevents movement out of 
consideration to others. At present the 
egoistic element predominates, with re- 
sults that make a picture far from 
bright. In the social ideal the strong 
should supplement the weak as they 
would like to be supplemented if they 
were weak; individuals not unequal but 
diverse may mutualize their efforts to 
the advantage of all; and each indi- 
vidual should perform in the social econ- 
omy that function for which he is best 
fitted, and should receive in return " a 
graceful equity in the means for satisfy- 
ing his desires." 

Among the books announced for 
issue soon by Henry Holt & Co. are 
The Book of Vertebrate Zoology, by 
Prof. J. S. Kingsley, author of The Ele- 
ments of Comparative Zoology, pub- 
lished by the same house, which can be 
used as a companion to McMurrich's In- 
vertebrate Zoology; Elementary Studies 
in Chemistry, by Prof. Joseph Torrcy, 
of Harvard, which, while it is charac- 
terized by the emphasis laid upon quan- 
titative laboratory work in general 
chemistry, will be a comprehensive text- 
book on the whole subject; and Moulds, 
Mlldeics, and Mushrooms, a guide to the 
systematic study of the fungi and My- 
cetozoa and their- literature, by Prof. 
Lucien Underwood, of Columbia Uni- 

Miss Cornelia E. Horsford, being in- 
terested in the question of the origin of 
certain ancient ruins situated on the 
Charles River, Mass., and elsewhere in 
America, which were discovered by the 
late Prof. E. N. Horsford and were be- 
lieved by him to be relics of the settle- 
ments formed by the Norsemen in the 
tenth century, commissioned Mr. Thor- 
stein Erlingsson to examine for compari- 
son certain ancient dwellings in Iceland, 

in the summer of 1895. The inquiries 
assigned to hira related to the method 
of construction of the long houseS) 
square buildings, hillside cots with pave- 
ments, mounds, things and doom rings, 
irrigation and drainage, ditches, river 
dams, hithes and ship docks, or nauts, 
grave-hills, and forts. The results of the 
study are given, with illustrations, in a 
small book. Ruins of the Saya Times, by 
Thorstein Erlingsson. (Published by 
David Nutt, London.) Mr. Erlingsson's 
report is supplemented by an outline of 
already ascertained knowledge regard- 
ing early Scandinavian home building, 
derived from previous excavations and 
investigations furnished by F. T. NOrris 
and Jijn Stefansson, and a summary in 
French by M. E. D. Grand. 

The Quarterly Journal of the An- 
thropological Institute of Great Britain 
and Ireland was issued during the thir- 
ty-seven years from the beginning of 
1871 in the form styled demi-octavo. 
The small pages of this size entailed 
some inconveniences, especially when 
ample plates and tables were needed for 
illustration. With the double number 
(August and November, 1898) a new 
series was begun, in the form styled im- 
perial octavo, with a page considerably 
larger than in the old form and corre- 
sponding in size with the important 
publications of some of the continental 
societies of Europe. This number con- 
tains the proceedings of seven meetings 
of the society and important anthropo- 
logical articles, some of them on Ameri- 
can subjects. Among them is a criti- 
cism, by Prof. W. Z. Ripley, on Deni- 
ker's Classification of the Races of Eu- 

In How to Switn (Putnams, $1) Cap- 
tain Davis Dalton, Chief Inspector of 
the United States Volunteer Life-Saving 
Corps, gives a practical treatise upon 
the art of natation, together with in- 
struction as to the best methods of 
saving persons imperiled in the water 
and of resuscitating persons apparently 
drowned. The treatise covers every 
branch of the art, and abounds in cau- 
tions in connection with nearly every 
topic, against the mistakes that may 
arise from timidity or the carelessness 
of over-confidence. The author holds 
that swimming is an art to be acquired 
and learned like other athletic arts, al- 



though it depends upon natural princi- 
ples. The best movements for taking 
advantages of the physical laws involved 
in it have been studied by competent 
men, and a brief and clear presenta- 
tion of them is attempted here. First, 
Ave have the lessons for tlie beginner, 
■\vho must, before all things, " have con- 
fidence." The difFerent strokes are de- 
scribed in detail and illustrated; the dif- 
ferent modes of swimming and the pos- 
tures, swimming in clothes, taking off 
clothes in the water, diving and swim- 
ming under water, swimming in waves, 
and other features are explained; and, 
finally, the life-saving directions are 
given, and public education in swim- 
ming is insisted upon. 

The Southern Magazine is a new 
monthly, published at Manassas, Va., by 
the Southern Publishing Company, of 
which we have the third number, that 
for August. It has a definite flavor of 
the old South, for which we find no 
fault with, for there was much about 
the old South which ought to be pre- 
served, and no little that was too pre- 
cious to be lost. Among the matters of 
special interest in this number are the 
Sketch of Sidney Lanier, by Ellen Man- 
derson, with selections from his writ- 
ings: The Last Meeting of the Confed- 
erate Cabinet (held, by a curious coin- 
cidence, at Abbeville, S. C, where seces- 
sion was started), by Walter L. Miller; 
an account of the University of Vir- 
ginia, by John S. Patten, which appears 
to be the first of a series on Southern 
Educational Institutions; and an article 
on South Carolina in Letters, by Colonel 
J. P. Thomas. 

The fifth yearly number of IJAnn^e 
Psycholoiiique of MM. Alfred Binet, H. 
Beaunis, and Th. liibot is a volume of 
902 pages, of which 591 pages are in- 
cluded in the first part, devoted to Origi- 
nal Memoirs and General lleviews. The 
papers are nineteen in number, on such 
subjects as muscular fatigue, the fore- 
shortening of objects rising from the 
horizon, stereognostic perception and 
stereoagnosy, suggestibility, applica- 
tions of the calculation of probabilities 
to psychology, colored audition, mental 
Jabor and nutritive changes, measure of 
mental fatigue, sensations of smell, pho- 
nographs and the study of the vowels, 
cephalometry, pedology, volume of the 

arm and muscular force, chronophoto- 
graphic and other apparatus, and mus- 
cular sense; and the authors are MM. 
Van Biervliet, of Ghent; Blum, of 
Xlmes; Bourdon, of Rennes; Clapar&de, 
of Geneva; Claviore, Delage, Demeny, 
Druauit, Mile. Joteyko, MM. Larguier, 
Manouvrier, Marage; JNIarbe, of Wiirz- 
burg; Obersteincr, of Vienna; Tschern- 
ing and Zwaardemaker, of Utrecht. M. 
V. Henri's paper on Muscular Sense 
would make a volume by itself. The 
second part — Analyses — consists of re- 
views of psychological publications en- 
tered under ten headings. The Bibliog- 
raphy contains 2,558 titles, and the 
index of authors fills upward of seven- 
teen double-columned pages. (Paris: 
Scheicher Freres. ) 

Valuable papers on Comparative 
Tests of Bituminous Steam Coals, by 
John W. Hill; the Artificial Preser- 
vation of Railroad Ties by the Use of 
Zinc Chloride, by W. W. Curtis; and 
the Theory of Concrete, by G. W. Raf- 
ter, are given in the Proceedings of the 
American Society of Civil Engineers 
(vol. XXV, No. 4, April, 1899), together 
with discussions respecting street grades 
and cross-sections in asphalt and cement 
and to loads and maximum stress on 
members of a bridge truss; also bio- 
graphical sketches of D. L. Barnes and 
W. R. IMichie. 

A valuable addition to D. Appleton 
and Company's International Educa- 
tion Series, and a .sprightly book in 
itself withal, is Montaigne on the Edu- 
cation of Children, a volume of selec- 
tions bearing on the subject from the 
writings of the quaint old Frenchman, 
translated and annotated by L. E. Rec- 
tor. The significance of Montaigne, as 
the editor of the series observes in his 
preface to the volume, lies chiefly in his 
protest against pedantry, and the trans- 
hitor finds JMontaigne's modernity shown 
in his attempt to degrade men learning 
from the first place, and to lay the 
emphasis on fitness for practical life, 
ability to use one's judgment, and mo- 
rality and virtue. While Montaigne 
had limitations and defects in his edu- 
cational views, such as are pointed out 
by Dr. Harris, he still appears to have 
been far in advance of his own time, 
and in some respects of the present time 
as well. The solution of the human 



problem, suoross in dealing -with one's 
self and his fellows, was his ideal. The 
translator shows how Locke and Rous- 
seau, and, of course, all educational 
writers who have built upon these, drew 
from him. The subjects of the selec- 
tions given here are the Education of 
Children, Pedantry, the Affection of Fa- 
thers, Liars, Physiognomy, Anger, the 
Art of Conversation, Idleness, Experi- 
ence, and History. 

An essay on The Object of the Labor 
Movement, by Johann Jacohy, trans- 
lated by Florence Kelley, and published 
by the International Publishing Com- 
pany, advocates co-operation, demands 
that the employer recognize the laborer 
whom he emploj^s as a being fully his 
own equal and treat him accordingly, 
and claims of the State an especial con- 
sideration of the working class as an act 
of reparative justice. 

The Transactions of the First and 
Second Regular Meetings of the Wyo- 
ming State Medical Society, May 13 

and November 1, 1898, shows that that 
body is vigorous and active, and that 
the doctors of Wyoming are interested 
in maintaining the dignity and reputa- 
tion of their profession. It is repre- 
sented that fully fifty per cent of the 
regular physicians of the State have al- 
ready been enrolled as members of the 

Mr. Frederick H. Gelman's Elements 
of Blowpipe Analysis (New York: The 
Macmillan Company; 60 cents) is in- 
tended to serve the twofold purpose of 
giving the student a general outline of 
the analysis and of introducing him to 
the methods of determinative mineral- 
ogy. Every effort has been made to 
simplify the account. The first chapter 
is devoted to Apparatus and Details, and 
the second to the General Outline of 
Blowpipe Analysis. Then the general 
reactions for the detection of the me- 
tallic elements in simple compounds are 
described, the behavior of some of the 
principal ores before the blowpipe, and 
comparative tables. 


Abbot, A. C, M. D. The Hygiene of 
Transmissible Diseases, their Cansation, 
Modes of Dissemination, and Metliods of 
Prevention. Philadelphia: W. B. Saun- 
ders. Pp. .311. $2 net. 

Allin, Arthnr. Extra-Organic Evolu- 
tion and Education. Pp. S. 

Baker, Charles Whiting. Monopolies 
and the People. Third eilitiou, revised 
and enlarged. New York: G. P. Put- 
nam's Sons. Pp. 3G8. 

Baker, M. N. Potable Water and 
Methods of Detecting Impurities. New 
York: D. Van Nostrand Company. Pp. 
97. 50 cents. 

Baskett, James Newton. The Story of 
the Fishes. New York: D. Appleton and 
Companv. (Appletons' Home - Reading 
Books.) Pp. 297. 

Borodine, N., Editor. Revue Interna- 
tionale de Peche et de Pisciculture. (In- 
ternational Review of Fisheries and Fish- 
Culture.) No. 1. August, 1S99. (Three 
times a year.) St. Petersburg, Russia. 
Published by the Russian Imperial So- 
ciety of Fisheries and Fish-Culture. (In 
English, German, and French.) Pp. 37, 
with supplement of one folded page. An- 
nual subscription, four francs. 

Bulletin. Le, Mf'dical de Quebec. Vol- 
ume I, No. 1. September, 1899. Pub- 
lished under the direction of the Medical 
Society of Quebec. Monthly. Pp. 56. $2 
a year. 

Burgess, O. O., M. D. Consciousness, 
Being, Immortality; Divine Healing and 
Christian Science. San Francisco. Pp. 20. 

Christian Science Publishing Society, 
Boston. Legal Aspects of Christian Sci- 
ence. Decisions of Courts, Opinions of 
Lawyers, etc. Pp. 83. 

Conn, H. W. The Story of the Living 
Machine. New York: D. Appleton and 
Company. (Library of Useful Stories.) 
Pp. 191. 40 cents. 

De Morgan, Augustus. Elementary 
Illustrations of the Differential and Inte- 
gral Calculus. Chicago: The Open Court 
Publishing Company. Pp. 144. ^1. 

Descartes, Rene. Discourse on Meth- 
od; or the Method of Rightly Conducting 
the Reason and Seeking Truth in the Sci- 
ences. Translated, etc., by John Veitch. 
Chicago: The Open Court Publishing 
Company. (Religion of Science Library.) 
Pp. S7. 25 cents. 

Flynt, Josiah. Tramping with Tramps. 
Studies and Sketches of Vagabond Life. 
With Prefatory Note by Hon. Andrew D. 
White. New York: The Century Com- 
pany. Pp. 396. $1.50. 

Giles, W^illiam A., Chairman of the 
Legislative Committee of the Civic Fed- 
eration (Chicago). Papers on Reform 
Legislation, Corrupt Practices Acts, and 
Pawnbroking in Different Countries. 
Chicago: R. R. Donnelley & Sons Com- 
pany. Pp. 35. 

Griffith, G. W. The Influence of the 
Earth upon the Field of a Bar Magnet. 
Pp. 4. 

Harrington, Mark W. About the 
Weather. New York: D. Appleton ami 
Company. (Appletons' Home - Reading 
Books.) Pp. 246. 

Higginson, Thomas Wentworth. Con- 
temporaries. Boston and New York: 
Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Pp. 379. ii;2. 

Holland. Frederick May. Liberty in 
the Nineteenth Century. New York: G. 
P. Putnam's Sons. Pp. 257. 



Korscholdt, Dr. E., anrt Holder, Dr. 
K. Tost-Hook of the Embryologv of the 
Invertebrates. Translated by Matilda 
Bernard, and edited, with Additional 
Notes, by Martin F. AVoodward. Vol. II. 
Pp. 309. $3. Vol. III. Pp. 441. $3.25. 

Lake Mohonk Conference on Interna- 
tional Arliitration. Report of the Fifth 
Annual Meeting, 1889. Pp. 142. 

Lo Bianco, Dr. Salvatore. The Meth- 
ods employed at the Naples Zoological 
Station for tlie Preservation of Marine 
Animals. Translated by E. O. Hovey. 
United States National Museum. Pp. 42. 

Newman, George. Bacteria, especially 
as they are related to the Economy of 
Nature, to Industrial Processes, anil to 
the Public Health. New York: G. P. 
Putnam's Sons. Pp. 348. 

Newton, Alfred, Gadow, Hans, and 
others. A Dictionary of Birds. New 
York: The Macmillau Company. Pp. 
loss. ifo. 

Ohio Agricultural Experiment Station. 
Press Bulletin No. 199. Plums. A Com- 
parison of Varieties. Pp. 2. 

Oliver, Charles A. Description of an 
Adjustable Bracket for the Reld Oph- 
thalmometer. Pp. 3; A Case of Foreign 
Body in the Optic Nerve. Pp. 3; A Calfe 
of Keflex Irritation. Pp. 5; A Case of 
Fibroma of the Eyelid. P. 1, with plate; 
A New Method for the Plantation of 
Glass Balls into the Optical Cavity. 
Pp. 30. 

Putnam, P. W. Address as Retiring 
President of the American Association 
for the Advancement of Science, Colum- 
bus Meeting, 1899. Pp. 17. 

Ribot, Th. The Evolution of General 
Ideas. Chicago: The Open Court Publish- 
ing Company. Pp. 231. $1.25. 

Russell, Charles T. The At-one-ment 
between God and Man. (•' Millennial 
Dawn." Vol. V.) Allegheny, Pa.: Watch- 
Tower Bible and Tract Society. Pp. 507. 

Stnver, E., M. D. The Importance of 
a Knowledge of the Phylogeuetic Devel- 
opment of tlie Child in the I'revention of 
Children's Diseases. I'p. 11. 

Thompson, Ernest Seton. The Trail 
of the Sandhill Stag. New York: Charles 
Scribner's Sons. Pp. 93. $1.50. 

United States Department of Agricul- 
ture. Farmers' Bulletins. No. 70. The 
Principal Insect Enemies of the Grape. By 
C. L. Marlatt. Pp. 23; No. 80. The 
Peach-Twig Borer. By. C. L. Marlatt. 
I'p. 15: No. 99. Three Insect Enemies of 
Shade Trees. By L. O. Howard. Pp. 30; 
—Division of Entomology. No. 37. The 
Use of Hydrocyanic-Acid Gas for Fumi- 
gating Greenlio)ises and Small Frames. 
Pp. 10; No. 38. The Squash-Vine Borer. 
Pp. 6; No. 39. The Common Squash Bug. 
Pp. 5. 

United States Fish Commission. Check- 
List of the Fishes of Florida. By B. W. 
Evermann and W. C. Kendall. Pp. 68. 

Upsala, University of (Sweden). Bul- 
letin of the Geological Institution. Hj. 
Sjogren, Editor. Vol. IV, Part I, No. 7. 
1S98. Pp. 131, with four plates. 

Weed, Clarence Moores, Editor. The 
Insect World. A Reading Book of Ento- 
mology. New York: D. Appleton and 
Company. (Appletons' Home - Reading 
Books.) Pp. 207. CO cents. 

Wisconsin Geological and Natural His- 
tory Survey. Bulletin No. 4. On the 
Building and Ornamental Stones of Wis- 
consin. By Ernest R. Buckley. Pp. 544. 

Wisla. A Geographical and Ethno- 
graphical I'ublicatiou (in Polish). Vol. 
XIII, Nos. 1 to 5. Warsaw, Poland. 
Pp. 320. 

Wright, Mabel Osgood. Wabenor the 
Magician. New York: The Macmillau 
Company. Pp. 34G. 

^ragmetxts 0t Jcietxcje. 

The Dread of the Jew.*— The 
Dreyftis affair and the furious passion.s 
that it has awakened have their ulti- 
mate foundation in dread and hatred of 
the Jews. There is a Jewish question, 
more or less acute, in every continental 
country, and we are told by pessimists 
that before long we shall have an anti- 
Jewish movement in the East End of 
London. These facts naturally suggest 
an inquiry into the causes of the dread 
and hate which the Jews inspire, and 
the asking once again whether there are 
any good grounds for regarding tlie He- 
brew race as a menace to the Christian 
world. The main fact abotit the Jews 
on the Continent which emerges from a 

♦ From an article In the London Spectator. 

study of the present sittiation is that 
for some reason or other they inspire 
terror. That this terror is as absurd 
and as unreasonable as is the terror 
caused respectively by Jesuits and Free- 
masons, we ourselves do not dotibt for 
a moment, but that does not alter the 
fact that the sense of terror exists. It 
is hardly too mucli to say that the ma- 
jority of people on the Continent hon- 
estly believe that unless the Jews are 
in some way or other curbed, controlled, 
and kept down, soniething very dreadful 
will happen. In Russia the vast Sla- 
vonic population and its leaders believe 
that tinloss the Jews arc iinpoimded in 
the Polish Pale they will swamp the 
true Russian, and utterly ruin and de- 
stroy the Russian nationality and the 


Russian ideal. In Austria it is believed 
that if the Jews are allowed to go on 
as they are going on they will get every- 
thing into their hands — the land of the 
peasants, the sources of public informa- 
tion and the press, and the nerves by 
which trade and commerce are moved. 
In Germany it is much the same story, 
and there the Jews are believed, unless 
stopped in time, to be about to monopo- 
lize the universities. In France it is 
thought that the Jews, if not put down 
with the strong hand, will capture the 
W'hole administration, as well as " stran- 
gle commerce by their octopus grip." 
The Jews are called a " parasitic race," 
whatever that may mean. It is said 
that the Jew never becomes an agri- 
culturist, that he is a usurer and a 
bloodsucker, that he is a gross material- 
ist, and that he has no ideals beyond 
the precious metals; and that they ha- 
bitually act together to further their 
own racial interests and to injure those 
communities which have been foolish 
enough to trust them. To take the 
charge of want of patriotism first. How 
is it substantiated? We can not say 
that we have ever seen any real evidence 
of want of patriotism in the Jews. Look 
at the ease of France at present. There 
is something extremely pathetic in the 
way in which the French Jews cling to 
their nationality in spite of all the 
hatred they inspire. The truth is, the 
Jew is a sort of expert in patriotism. 
Did not the Maccabees teach the Avorld 
one of its first lessons in patriotism? 
Depend upon it, if the Jew is only al- 
lowed to be a patriot he will not fail 
here. The charge, indeed, is like that 
so often made in Russia against the 
Jews. They are accused of not tilling 
the soil, their accusers ignoring the fact 
that no Jew is allowed to buy, or to 
lease, or to occupy land, and is, in fact, 
excluded by law from acting as a farmer. 
Take next the charge of " aloofness." 
Probably this charge is well founded, 
but what can be expected of a people 
so newly freed from the Ghetto ? If you 
treat a race for centuries as lepers, and 
visit its members with dire penalties, if 
they do not keep " aloof " they are like- 
ly to remain for some time disinclined 
to free intercourse. The third charge is, 
in reality, that the Jews of the world, 
having obtained control of cosmopolitan 
finance, act together in the interests of 

their race, and inflict grievous injuries 
upon the nations. But what proof is 
there of this? Curiously enough, Mr. 
Arnold WMte — though in other ways 
he seems to encourage this charge — ac- 
cuses the great Jewish financiers of not 
doing this very thing. He tells us that 
after the Russians had driven the Jews 
into the Pale they wanted to raise a 
loan. One would have expected the 
great Jewish loanmongers to have ab- 
solutely refused to help the enemy of 
the race. Instead they basely, as we 
think, found Russia the money she 
wanted. But though this was a base 
act, it certainly is not consistent with 
the charge that the Jews control the 
international money market for tribal 
ends. We believe, in fact, that this 
whole charge is a pure delusion. The 
great financiers, w'hether Jew or Gen- 
tile, look for a profit, and not to deep 
and mysterious racial aspirations. The 
charge that the Jews are steeped in ma- 
terialism, and so are a demoralizing ele- 
ment in the community, is equally un- 
fair and absurd. Many Jews may be 
fond of pomp of a vulgar kind, and may 
aflect what we confess personally to 
finding very disagreeable forms of Asi- 
atic luxury; but these are externals. In 
essentials and as a race the Jews are 
no more materialistic than their neigh- 
bors. And can we say that they are 
a demoralizing element when it is uni- 
versally confessed that the Jews are 
among the best fathers, sons, and hus- 
bands in the world? 

Death of Professor Bunsen. — With 

the death of Robert Wilhelra Bunsen, 
at Heidelberg, August ICth, the world 
loses a student whose name is insepai'a- 
bly connected with nearly all the chem- 
ical work that has been done in the 
last fifty years, for it is safe to say that 
hardly a discovery has been made or 
experiment performed to the success of 
which some process, property, or instru- 
ment discovered, invented, or suggested 
by Bunsen, and usually named after 
him, has not contributed. A sketch of 
this illustrious chemist, with a portrait, 
and an enumeration of his principal 
works, each of which might be charac- 
terized as a milestone in the advance of 
the science, was published in the Popu- 
lar Science Monthly for August, 1881 
(vol. xix, page 550). One of the prin- 


cipal events in his life since that sketch 
Avas published was his election, in 1883, 
as one of the eight foreign associates of 
the French Academy of Sciences — the 
highest honor that that institution is 
competent to confer. Besides Bunsen's 
personal interest in the work and suc- 
cess of his students, one of his most 
salient traits, as described by a careful 
and appreciative biographer in the New 
York Evening Post, was his absent- 
mindedness concerning what he had him- 
self accomplished. He was afflicted with 
an " incipient aphasia," which made it 
impossible for him to talk about them. 
" He could not answer verbal questions, 
whether oral or written. He could not 
have pass'ed a decent examination in his 
own discoveries. Let. the question come 
in the shape of an emergency in a chem- 
ical operation, and a wealth of knowl- 
edge would be poured out, but let it 
be put in words and he could not an- 
swer it." He is said to have answered 
a student once, who asked him about 
some substance, that he knew nothing 
about it — " You will have to look up 
the literature." The student looked up 
the literature, and found that it con- 
sisted of a single article, and that by 
Bunsen! Professor Bunsen prized what 
would stimulate him to effort, enjoyed 
life, was fond of travel and interested 
in everything human, and was a good 
novel reader. 

The TJnprofitableness of Strikes. 
— The cost of a large strike is impres- 
sively illustrated in some of the results 
of the great colliery dispute of 1898 in 
South Wales, as they are set forth in 
the British Board of Trade returns and 
the reports of the consular service. In 
direct financial loss, the company suf- 
fered to the extent of $100,000, and the 
men of $300,000 in Avages, besides the 
demoralization from being so long out 
of work. To a certain extent, other dis- 
tricts gained what the South Wales 
mines lost by the diversion of trade to 
them, but that simply aggravated the 
evil in the mines, for some of this di- 
verted trade will stay where it went. 
It is sometimes said, indeed, that strikes 
have only a temporary effect on busi- 
ness, from which it will recover in time. 
This is true, however, as is suggested in 
Industries and Iron, only when the lo- 
cality affected has a virtual monopoly 

of the trade, while in the competition 
of the nations instances of that kind are 
growing rarer, lilngland especially has 
many rivals in these days, eager to take 
advantage of every opportunity to profit 
by its mistakes or misfortunes, and 
which, when they get their hands on a 
good thing, are not apt to let go. Not- 
withstanding some strikes at home, the 
coal trade in the United States derived 
benefits from the British sti-ike by send- 
ing to markets which the Welsh mines 
should have supplied; Germany sent 
coal to Sweden, and Belgium increased 
its shipments to the Canary Islands. 
Other countries are induced, by condi- 
tions making the usual sources of sup- 
ply inconvenient to them, to a more ac- 
tive development of their own resources, 
as Austria-Hungary, Spain, and France 
were in the present case. So it is 
more than doubtful whether the pres- 
ent strike paid. 

The Scientific Spirit. — The study 
of science, especially of an experimental 
science, said Prof. R. H. Chittenden in 
an informal talk to students of the 
Sheffield Scientific School, is peculiarly 
adapted for developing the poAver of in- 
dependent thought, and of training one 
in drawing logical conclusions from ex- 
perimental data. In the laboratory is 
afforded an opportunity for making ob- 
ser\ations, but if real benefit is to be de- 
rived from the experimental work there 
must be a full realization of the neces- 
sity of careful thought in drawing de- 
ductions from the results observed. 
Broad generalizations built on a slender 
foundation of fact frequently topple to 
the ground, and sometimes carry de- 
struction with them, all because of a 
lack of that critical spirit which prompts 
a careful and thorough consideration of 
all the premises. The man who has ac- 
quired the habit of careful thought, of 
reasoning out each step in a process, 
of weighing carefullj' each reaction in- 
volved, of seeking in his own mind the 
reason for this or that phenomenon, 
who looks at both sides of a question, 
and carefully considers all the facts 
available, will build much more surely 
and firmly than he who by specious 
arguments constructs a glittering hy- 
pothesis, only to see it fade away. 
Hasty reasoning, insufficient data, ob- 
scure facts, are the bane of modern sci- 



ence. The true scientific spirit prompts 
to thorough inquiry; it will have noth- 
ing to do with hasty generalizations 
that may glitter but do not convince; 
it puts a restraining hand on all imma- 
ture conclusions, and demands, above 
all else, careful, thorough observation. 
It shuns all shams. Good, honest work 
is the only passport to the domain of 

Constitution of the Funafuti 
Atoll. — In the boring of the coral atoll 
of Funafuti, Professor David, of the 
University of Sydney, reached a depth 
of 697 feet, and a subsequent boring was 
made down to about 1,000 feet. The core 
obtained by the David party was sent to 
England and placed in the hands of 
Professor Judd for investigation. The 
general statement is made respecting it 
that the material brought up presents 
much the same character throughout, 
and so far is regarded as supporting 
Darwin's theory. There are no layers 
of chalky ooze, such as Murray's hy- 
pothesis might have made possible, and 
no trace of volcanic material has been 
found. The later boring beyond 700 
feet passed through a hard limestone 
containing many well-preserved corals. 
In a boring of the bed of the lagoon 
down to 144 feet, after passing through 
101 feet of water, the first 80 feet below 
were found to consist of the calcareous 
alga Halimeda mixed with shells, and 
the remaining 64 feet of the same mate- 
rial mixed with gravel. 

Metallic Calcium. — Metallic cal- 
cium, as prepared by Professor Moissan 
from solution in liquid sodium, sepa- 
rates in hexagonal crystals which have 
a specific gravity of 1.85 and melt at 
760° ill vacuo. On solidifying, the metal 
is somewhat brittle, is less malleable 
than potassium and sodium, and shows 
a crystalline fracture. When free from 
nitride it is silver-white in color, and 
has a brilliant surface. Heated to red- 
ness in a current of hydrogen, a crystal- 
line hydride, CaHo, is formed. When 
pure, calcium is not acted upon at ordi- 
nary temperatures by chlorine, though 
at 100° C. the action is decided. But 
if the metal contains nitride, chlorine 
attacks it at the ordinary temperature. 
At 300° C. calcium ignites and burns 
brilliantly in oxygen. Gently warmed 

in air, it burns with brilliant scintilla- 
tions. It combines with sulphur, with 
incandescence, at 400° C. At a red heat 
it unites actively with lampblack, giv- 
ing a carbide, CaC.. It gives some brit- 
tle alloys with magnesium, zinc, and 
nickel. The alloy with tin slowly de- 
composes water. A crystalline amal- 
gam is formed with mercury, which 
may be distilled in hydrogen at 400° 
C, but which forms nitride when heated 
in nitrogen. Heated to redness with 
potassium or sodium chloride, calcium 
sets the metal free. Water acts on cal- 
cium only very slowh', with the evolu- 
tion of hydrogen. In liquefied ammo- 
nia at —40° C. calcium ammonia is 
formed — a reddish-brown solid. 

Prosperity and Enterprise in 
Mexico. — The increasing prosperity of 
Mexico is one of the striking features 
of current history. In four years the 
imports of the country increased from 
$30,000,000 in 1894 to upward of $45,- 
000,000 in 1898, the 'average for five 
years having been $40,000,000. The 
chief sellers to IMexicans are the United 
States, Great Britain, France, and Ger- 
many, and the keenness of the compe- 
tition for trade is shown in the fluctu- 
ations in the relative shares of it of the 
several countries. Spain has a small 
share of trade, which is growing. In- 
dustrial enterprises are being developed 
throughout the country with energy, 
enterprise, and success. Cotton and 
linen factories have been established, 
attention is given to the erection of 
woolen mills, and a noticeable activity 
prevails in mining industries. Under 
all these influences the railroads are 
prosjjering too. 

A Question of Economy. — A paper, 
" Shall we grow the Sugar that we con- 
sume? " by Freeman Stewart, called out 
by an article by ex-Secretary Wilson, 
besides matter bearing directly on the 
question, embodies observations on gen- 
eral political principles. Thus, it seems 
necessary to observe " that the idea that 
republicanism requires our public offi- 
cials to act as mere weathercocks for 
the transient waves of popular clamor 
and excitement is also a deplorable de- 
lusion, Avhich, if persistently carried into 
eff"ect, will soon utterly destroy republi- 
canism. As free institutions depend on 



the recognition of correct principles by 
the people, it is primarily necessary that 
correct principles should be constantly 
impressed upon the attention of the peo- 
ple. The great need of the nation to- 
day is wise leadership — unselfish men, 
who appreciate the necessity of being 
governed by immutable divinely ap- 
pointed principles, to act as leaders, to 
keep the minds of the people centered 
in the right direction." Coming to the 
main subject of the essay, we have, as 
to the expediency of taxing ourselves 
to have sugar made here : " If the farm- 
er's profits must come from the consum- 
ers of sugar as a bounty or tax, and not 
from the inherent profitableness of the 
business, then the farmer's profits are 
the consumer's loss. The business is in- 
herently unprofitable, and no farmer, or 
any one else, has a right, ' inherent ' or 
otherwise, to carry on an unprofitable 
business, except at his own expense. . . . 
It may be assumed that the farmers 
who are gi'owing the sugar are now 
growing crops Avhich, if not as profitable 
as they desire, are at least sufficiently 
so to keep them from being burdensome 
to the rest of the nation. And how can 
the prosperity of the nation be increased 
by having these same farmers engage in 
a new business which will require them 
to draw on the productive capacity of 
the rest of the people to the extent of 
many millions of dollars annually, in 
order to keep their heads above water ? " 

Bacteria of the Dairy. — An inves- 
tigation of the relation of acid fermenta- 
tion to the flavor and aroma of butter, 
made by C. H. Eckles at the Iowa Col- 
lege Experiment Station, has given the 
results that the flavor is produced by 
the bacterial fermentations which have 
taken place in the milk and cream. 
The kind of flavor depends upon the 
class of bacteria causing the fermenta- 
tion. The ripening of a good quality of 
acid cream is mostly a development of 
acid bacteria. Four species of acid-pro- 
ducing bacteria, tested in ripening pas- 
teurized cream, were found to give the 
butter the tjpical flavor and aroma. Of 
the species tried, the most common 
milk-souring organism (Bacterium lac- 
tarii) was found to give the most satis- 
factory results in ripening cream. Cream 
ripened with common bacteria found in 
hay dust {Bacillus suhtilis) gives a 

very undesirable flavor to butter. The 
superior flavor of summer butter is due 
to the greater number of bacteria of the 
acid class found in milk during that 

For Outdoor Improvement. — The 
American Park and Outdoor Associa- 
tion has taken up and aims to nation- 
alize the important work of the im- 
provement of outdoors. Not that it ex- 
pects to improve upon Nature, but it 
hopes to be able to neutralize or rem- 
edy the devastation and disfigurement 
which man has wrought upon her face. 
At the third annual meeting of the 
association, held in Detroit in July, 
1899, preliminary steps were taken to- 
ward off'ering prizes for the improve- 
ment of grounds about manttfactories 
and homes — both front and back lots — - 
and especially about the homes of arti- 
sans. A standing committee was insti- 
tuted to consider the best way of check- 
ing abuses of public advertising. A 
paper read by Mr. F. Law Olmstead, on 
the Relation of Reservoirs to Public 
Parks, concerned such construction of 
reservoirs and the surrounding them 
with suitable settings as would bring 
them into closer harmony with the park 
landscape and make them more a part 
of it. Another paper, by Mr. R. J. 
Coryell, of the Detroit parks, might be 
described as an efl"ort to show how a 
similar service may be performed for 
the parks and the people — in other 
words, how to make the people at home 
in the parks. Its points Avere illus- 
trated by citing what had been done in 
Detroit. Respecting means of prevent- 
ing depredations, Mr. C. C. Lancey told 
of good results accomplished in Roches- 
ter, N. Y., by the distribution of circu- 
lars of information on the subject; and 
Mr. F. L. Olmstead, Jr., of the interest 
taken by the children in the school gar- 
dens in Cambridge, Mass. 

Where Physical Investigation 
Fails. — From the discussion of the 
phj^sical method, with its descriptive 
laws and applications and hypotheses. 
Prof. J. 11. Poynting was led, in his 
address at the British Association, to 
the consideration of the limitation of 
its range. It was developed in the 
study of matter which we describe as 
non-living, and with non-living matter it 



has sufficed for the particular purposes 
of the physicist. Of course, only a little 
corner of the universe has been ex- 
plored, but in the study of non-living 
matter we have come to no impassable 
gulfs, no chasms across which we can 
not throw bridges of hypothesis. Does 
the method equally suffice when it is 
applied to living matter? Can we give 
a purely physical account of such mat- 
ter? Do we make any attempt to apply 
the physical method to describe and ex- 
plain those motions of matter which 
on the psychical view we term volun- 
tary? In practice the strictest physi- 
cist abandons the physical view, and re- 
places it by the psychical. He admits 
the study of purpose as well as the 
study of motion, and has to confess that 
here the physical method of prediction 

Honors to Sullivant and Lesque- 
reux. — " Sullivant day," August 22d, 
was devoted in the American Associa- 
tion to the commemoration of the lives 
and works of William S. Sullivant and 
C. Leo Lesquereux, botanists, the former 
distinguished for his studies in the 
mosses and the latter for his researches 
in paleobotany, both of whom lived and 
did the work by which they became fa- 
mous in Columbus, Ohio. Sullivant was 
born and passed the whole of his life in 
Columbus. Lesquereux, a Swiss by birth, 
lived in Columbus during many of his 
most fruitful years, and worked along- 
side of Sullivant. A considerable num- 
ber of objects associated with the two 
botanists were on exhibition — rare bo- 
tanical specimens, charts and pictures 
connected with their labors, and com- 
plete sets of their published works — and 
excellent and highly prized portraits of 
them were shown. The families of both 
were represented ' by the presence of 
daughters and granddaughters, among 
whom was Miss Arhart, a granddaugh- 
ter of Lesquereux, who was associated 
with him in part of his work, and made 
most of the drawings for his later books. 
Prof. C. R. Barnes presided over the 
exercises. Prof. W. A. Kellerman read 
a tribute to Sullivant from Dr. Gray's 
supplement to the leones. Mrs. Brit- 
ton gave a short review of the species 
named from Sullivant (including twelve 
North American mosses). Professor 
Barnes read a tribute to Lesquereux, 

taken from the Botanical Gazette. Re- 
marks were made and papers read on the 
Progress in the study of the Hepatica, 
by Prof. L. M. Underwood; the Moss 
Flora of Alabama, by Dr. Charles Mohr 
(read by Professor Earle) ; the History 
of the Study of the Mosses, by Mrs. 
Britton; the Classification of Certain 
Mosses, by A. J. Grout; the Study of 
Lichen Distribution in the Mississippi 
Valley, by Bruce Fink; and Botanical 
Teaching in the Secondary Schools, 
by W. C. Stevens and Ida Clendenin. 
Among the exhibits, those of twelve 
species of hepaticse from California, by 
Prof. F. E. Lloyd; forty- five photo- 
graphs of American students and col- 
lectors made famous by their work in 
mosses, by Mrs. Britton and Professor 
Underwood; and six species of mosses 
discovered and collected originally by 
Sullivant and Lesquereux near Colum- 
bus, deserve special mention. 

Rate of Evolutionary Variation 
in the Past. — IMr. Adam Sedgwick, 
speaking, in his address at the British 
Association, of variation, selection, and 
heredity, having raised the question 
whether the variability of organisms 
has ever been different from what it is 
now, answered it in the affirmative, be- 
cause it would be absurd to suppose 
that organisms would remain constant 
in this respect while they have under- 
gone alteration in all their other prop- 
erties. According to the Darwinian the- 
ory of evolution, one of the most impor- 
tant factors in determining the modifi- 
cation of organisms has been natural 
selection. It acts by presenting cer- 
tain favorable variations, and allo^^^ng 
others less favorable to be killed off in 
the struggle for existence. It will thus 
come about that certain variations will 
be gradually eliminated, while the vari- 
ations of the selected organisms will 
themselves be submitted to selection, 
and certain of these will in their turn 
be eliminated. In this way a group 
of organisms becomes more and more 
closely adapted to the surroundings. 
It would thus appear that the result of 
continued selection is to diminish the 
variability of a species. Hence, as selec- 
tion has been going on all the while, 
variation must have been much greater 
in past times than it is now. Follow- 
ing out this train of reasoning, we are 



driven to the conclusion that one of 
the most important results of the evo- 
lutionary change has been the gradual 
increase and perfection of heredity as a 
function of organisms and a gradual 
elimination of variability. This view, 

if it can be established, is of the utmost 
importance to our theoretical concep- 
tion of evolution, because it enables us 
to bring our requirements as to time 
within the limits granted by the physi- 


Of the archaeology of Block Island, 
Arthur Hollick found in his explorations 
that around the shores of Great Salt 
Pond and on the sand dunes that bor- 
der the western shores of the island evi- 
dences of former occupation by the In- 
dians are numerous. Kitchen middens 
are exposed in several street cuttings, 
implements are often found scattered 
over the surface of the ground in cer- 
tain localities, and skeletons have been 
unearthed from time to time. In many 
places the kitchen midden accumula- 
tions were so obvious that it was im- 
possible to ignore them entirely. They 
were found to consist of the customary 
collection of oyster and other shells, 
bones, pottery fragments, fire-cracked 
stones, charcoal, finished implements, re- 
jects, flakes, chips, etc. The finished im- 
l)lements found were two axes, of a 
I>lagioclase igneous rock, and three ar- 
row points, all of quartzite. In the 
sand dunes were many old fireplaces, 
mostly buried by the sand which has 
drifted over them. They could general- 
ly be located by the richness of the turf 
on the surface immediately above. 
Mixed with the accumulations in these 
places were the bones and teeth of ani- 
mals. The island promises a good re- 
ward for arehajological investigation. 

In a form of disease known as pecki- 
ness in the cypress and pin-rot in the 
lihrocedrus, described by Hermann von 
Schrenk in a thesis presented to Wash- 
ington University, the wood is destroyed 
in localized areas, which are surround- 
ed by apparently sound wood. The cell 
■walls are changed into compounds, 
which diffuse through the walls and fill 
the cells surrounding the decayed cen- 
ter, and tliese have been called humus 
compounds. In both trees a fungus 
mycelium occurs, with strongly marked 
characteristics, which flourishes within 
the diseased centers, and grows between 
them without afl'ccting the intervening 
wood. This wood can be utilized for 

many purposes even when much rotted, 
and in neither case does the mycelium 
grow after the tree has once been cut 
down. The two trees thus diseased, 
both representatives of a race of trees 
the majority of which are extinct, are 
closely related genetically, although 
growing in difi'erent parts of the coun- 
try. The two forms of decay differ but 
slightly, and not more than might be 
expected in two woods of different char- 

Mr. J. C. Arthur, of the Purdue 
University Agricultural Experiment Sta- 
tion, a few years ago picked up a small 
white flower {Cerastium arvcnse oblon- 
(jifoUum) growing unobtrusively among 
the grass and low weeds of the roadside. 
It was a little more atti-active than its 
relative which is called the field chick- 
weed, and the author suggests the name 
of starry grasswort for it. Under culti- 
vation it spread out over the ground in 
a close mat of foliage in a manner char- 
acteristic of many members of the pink 
family, to which it belongs; and now for 
six weeks in April and May it is a mass 
of " dazzling whiteness, softened with 
the pale green of stems and leaves," 
while " all winter long the prostrate 
stems remain alive to their very tips, and 
the leaves maintain a summerlike ap- 
pearance," without the indurated, pol- 
ished look so usually associated with 
evergreen foliage. This is one roadside 
flower taken up, perhaps casually, for 
cultivation and improvement. There are 
others — no one knows how many — that 
will doubtless likewise reward the pains 
taken with them; and this inspires Mr. 
Arthur to suggest to others that they 
keep a lookout for plants that may 
become desirable garden varieties and 
try them. " It is evident that showiness 
in the wild state is not the most impor- 
tant criterion by wliich to gauge the fu- 
ture culture value of a plant. One needs 
to have many factors in mind to meet 
with success, and it is hoped that the 



study of the starry grasswort will be 
suggestive in this line. The byways and 
fields undoubtedly hold many incipi- 
ently valuable decorative plants which 
await the discoverer, as truly as do those 
of the unexplored regions of Asia and 

An experiment has been tried in New 
York during the past summer in the 
way of " vacation schools " for teaching 
housekeeping and domestic economy. 
Instruction was given daily in these 
arts in the public schoolrooms in Front 
and Oliver Streets and in Hester Street. 
At Front and Oliver Streets girls were 
taught to air, clean, and take care of 
a bedroom; to set table, clean, and take 
care of a living room; kitchen cleanli- 
ness ; laundry work — one week being de- 
voted to each course, and talks were 
given on furnishing a fiat, the care of 
a cellar, and the importance of air and 
sunlight to health. The children were 
also taught daily to cook appetizing 
dishes and serve them. At Hester Street 
more time was given to the cooking les- 
sons, instruction was given on the feed- 
ing of babies, and a class in nursing 
was taught; among other things, emer- 
gency bandaging, caring for helpless pa- 
tients, and the hygiene of the sick-room. 

]\Ir. a. p. Coleman, during some 
geological work last summer on the 
north shore of Lake Superior, about 
Heron Bay, discovered a new mineral, 
which he has named Zyc/'OHife, and which 
he describes at length in the Journal of 
Geology for July- August. It is a dike 
rock, consisting essentially of analeite, 
orthoclase, plagioclase, and segyrite, the 
analeite having the character of a base, 
in which the other minerals form radiat- 
ing groups of crystals. The analeite 
clearly represents the magma left after 
the crystallization of the imbedded min- 
erals, and it is evident that it can • be 
formed only from a magma highly 
charged with water, and therefore un- 
der pressure. 

From the examination of a number 
of nearly pure hydrocarbons obtained 
from American petroleum by Young, it 
appears that the same classes of hydro- 
carbons, paraffins, polymethylene com- 
pounds of naphthenes and aromatic hy- 
drocarbons are present in these and in 
Eussian and Galician petroleums; but 

that Russian petroleum contains a rela- 
tively larger amount of naphthalenes 
and, in all probability, of aromatic hy- 
drocarbons, than Galician, and Galician 
a larger amount of the same hydrocar- 
bons than American petroleum. 


An old contributor, Dr. A. F. A. King, 
of Washington, D. C., writes us calling 
attention to the interesting fact that 
we printed an article of his as far back 
as September, 1883, suggesting the mos- 
quito theory of malaria, and giving a 
number of observations which seemed 
strongly to support this view. 

Experiments made by F. H. Hall 
and W. P. Wheeler, at the New York 
Agricultural Experiment Station, re- 
garding the best food for " chicks, pul- 
lets, cockerels, and ducklings," seem to 
indicate conclusively that part of the 
protein must be drawn from animal 
sources if we are to get the best results. 
Rations in which from forty to fifty per 
cent of the protein was supplied by ani- 
mal food produced more rapid growth 
and at less cost of production. 

Messrs. A. Stutzer and Hart- 
LiEB, of Breslau, have detected bacteria 
in Portland cements, which provoke the 
liberation of the nitrogen from nitroge- 
nous compounds in water, and the for- 
mation of nitrous and nitric acids that 
act upon the lime in the cement and 
promote its disintegration. 

According to Industries and Iron, 
the tides are now utilized for generat- 
ing power at Pont-l'Abbe, Finisterre, 
France, during fourteen hours per day. 
At flood tide the water flows through a 
canal two miles and a half inland into 
a pond in the rear of the power house, 
and returns to the sea at ebb tide. The 
total fall is seven feet and a half, and 
eighty-horse power is generated by 
means of turbines. Means have been 
considered for applying this method of 
generating power to various industries. 

A PROPOSAL, for an International 
Physical Congress has been accepted by 
the authorities of the Paris Exposition 
of 1900, and the congress will be held 
from the 6th to the 12 th of August, 
under the auspices of the French Gov- 
ernment. It immediately precedes the 
International Electrical Congress. So 
far as has yet been determined, the sub- 
jects of the addresses and i-eports will 
be classified under the headings of the 
definition and fixing certain units (of 
pressure, scale of hardness, quantity of 



heat, etc.), the Bib]io<Traphy of Physics, 
and National Laboratories. The linal 
programme is, however, still to be set- 
tled. The subscription for membership 
is twenty francs, or four dollars. The 
foreign secretary of the congress is M. 
Charles Edouard Guillaume, Pavilion de 
Breteuil, Sevres (Seine et Oise), Paris. 

In a book called Literary Munich Por- 
traits, with brief biographical sketches 
by Paul Heyse, are given of twenty-five 
of the most prominent literary men of 
that brilliant capital. Only two authors 
not Germans are included. One of them 
is our contributor, E. P. Evans. The 
other is the Norwegian novelist Bjorn- 
son. Heyse leaves himself out, although 
he is the greatest literary character of 
them all. 

SosiE recent experiments, conducted 
jointly by the Kew Observatory Com- 
mittee and the International Bureau of 
Weights and JNIeasures at Sevres, were 
made to compare the platinum ther- 
mometer of Professor Callendar, which 
measures temperature by the varying re- 
sistance of a platinum Avire, and the 
older mercury and gas thermometers. 
It Avas found that below 100° C. the dif- 
ferences between the observed values on 
the nitrogen scale and those deduced 
from the platinum thei-mometer are ex- 
ceedingly small, and that even at the 
highest temperature (590°) the diflfer- 
ences only amount to a few tenths of a 

The American Chemical Society has 
gained 232 members during the past year, 
making the present number 1,540. The 
report of the committee on the analysis 
of coal, submitted to the recent meeting 
of the society at Columbus, Ohio, em- 
bodied detailed instructions in regard 
to the best methods of analyzing coke, 
and outlined a plan for securing uni- 
formity in such analysis by chemists 
throughout the land. This report was 

At the recent annual meeting of the 
American Society for the Promotion of 
Agricultural Science Prof. W. J. Beal 
reported concerning the germination of 
seeds, after long keeping, that experi- 
ments had been tried with various seeds 
five, ten, fifteen, and twenty years old, 
from Avhich it appeared that seeds of a 
large number of important plants would 
germinate after fifteen years, but the 
number sprouting after twenty years 
was small. 

A PAPER was read by Dr. L. O. How- 
ard, at the recent meeting of the Ameri- 
can Society of Entomologists, recording 
the success which has been obtained by 

the fig-raisers of California in fertiliz- 
ing the Smyrna variety of figs by the 
aid of the blastophaga which issues from 
the Capri figs covered with their pollen. 
A generation of the blastophaga has been 
developed at Fresno by which many 
Sniyrna figs have been satisfactorily fer- 
tilized, and there is considerable proba- 
bility that the insect has at last estab- 
lished itself on California soil. 

The five hundredth anniversary of 
the birth of Gutenberg, associated with 
the invention of printing, is to be cele- 
brated at Mayence, June 24, 1900. It 
is hoped that the foundation of a Gu- 
tenberg Museum may be a result of this 
movement. An exhibition illustrating 
the art and progress of printing is also 
expected to be held. 

The conclusion is drawn by the Ital- 
ian, Signor Albini, from investigations 
on the nutritive value of whole-meal 
bread, that it is inferior to that of or- 
dinary white bread, and that a further 
disadvantage comes from the excessive 
quantity of indigestible matter, formed 
of the harder parts of the pericarp of the 
grain, which it contains. 

We have to add to our obituary list 
of men known in science the names of 
Edward Orton, LL. D., Professor of Ge- 
ology in Ohio State University, late 
State Geologist of Ohio, and late Presi- 
dent of the American Association for 
the Advancement of Science, at Colum- 
bus, Ohio, October 16th, in his seventy- 
first year, of whom Ave shall shortly give 
a more extended sketch, Avith portrait; 
Grant Allen, Avriter of several scientific 
books and articles, and a contributor 
to the Popular Science Monthly; Prof. 
Theodore Elbert, Gerriian geologist, aged 
forty-tAvo years; Dr. Max Barth, Direct- 
or of the Agricultural Station of Ru- 
fach, Alsace, aged forty-four years; M. 
Paul Janet, member of the Paris Acad- 
emy of Moral Science, and formerly pro- 
fessor at the Sorbonne; Edward Case, 
English engineer, Avell known for his 
method of groining to prevent the sea 
from encroaching on the coast, Septem- 
ber 22d; Hamilton Y. Castner, whose 
name is associated Avith the establish- 
ment of processes for the electrolytic 
production of alkali and bleaching pow- 
der from common salt, and for the ex- 
traction of aluminum; Dr. Oscar Bau- 
niann, of Vienna, African explorer, 
author of a maj) of the Congo, geograph- 
ical articles, and books relating to his 
explorations; and Dr. J. W. Hicks, 
Bishop of Bloemfontein, formerly dem- 
onstrator in chemistiy in the University 
of Cambridge, and author of a text-book 
on inorganic chemistry. 




JANUARY, 1900. 




ONE of the most remarkable chapters in the astronomy of the 
past century was commenced on the very first night with 
which that century began. It was, indeed, on the 1st of January, 
1801, that the discovery of a new planet was announced. The five 
great orbs — Jupiter, Saturn, Mercury, Mars, and Venus — had been 
known from the earliest times of which we have records, and the 
planet Uranus had been discovered nearly twenty years before the 
previous century closed. The solar system was thus thought to 
consist of these six planets and, of course, the earth. On the 
memorable night to which I have referred, Piazzi, the astronomer, 
made a remarkable advance. He discovered yet another planet — 
the seventh, or eighth, if the earth be included. The new body 
was a small object in comparison with those which were previously 
known. It was invisible to the unaided eye, and seemed no more 
than a starlike point even when viewed through a telescope. It 
revolved around the sun in the wide region between the orbits of 
Mars and Jupiter. This discovery was speedily followed by others 
of the same kind, and, as the century has advanced to its close, the 
numbers of these planets — asteroids, as they are generally called — 
has been gradually increasing, so much so that now, of these little 
bodies known to astronomers, the number amounts to about four 
hundred and fifty. 

But just as the beginning of the century was heralded by the 
discovery of the first of these asteroids, so the close of the century 

VOL. LTI. — 23 


will be signalized in tlie history of astronomy by the detection 
among these little objects of one which has entirely cast into the 
shade all other discoveries of the same nature. On the night of the 
13th of August, 1898, a German astronomer, Herr Witt, exposed a 
photographic plate to the heavens in his telescope in the Observa- 
tory of Urania, at Berlin. On that plate a picture of the heavens 
was obtained, and in that picture a new planet was revealed. At 
first the discovery of one more asteroid does not imply very much. 
Hundreds of such planets might be found, and indeed have been 
found, and yet no particular comment has been called forth. But 
this planet found by Witt is a imique object; it is more interesting 
than the whole of the four hundred and thirty-two other minor 
planets which have preceded it — not, indeed, on account of its size, 
for Witt's planet is a wholly insignificant object from this point 
of view. The special interest which this new planet has for us 
dwellers on the earth lies in the fact that it seems to be the nearest 
to the earth of all the other worlds in space — the moon, of course, 
excepted. This is the reason why the attention of all who are in- 
terested in the science of astronomy has been concentrated on 
Witt's discovery. It is certainly the most interesting telescopic 
revelation which has been made for many years. 

It may illustrate a characteristic feature in the progress of 
modern astronomy if I describe how Witt succeeded in obtaining 
this picture. He had selected one of the most rapid plates that 
the skilled manufacturer can supply to the photographer. He put 
this plate into his telescope, and he directed it to the heavens. If 
that plate had been used in broad daylight for the more ordinary 
purpose of obtaining a photographic portrait, an exposure of half 
a second would have been quite long enough. But the very faint 
stars can not work their charm on the plate with equal rapidity; a 
second is not long enough, nor is ten seconds, nor even ten minutes. 
If we desire to secure an imprint of the faintest stars we must 
expose the plate for an hour, and sometimes for even much longer 
than an hour. Of course, an exposure of such duration would 
utterly ruin the picture if a gleam of any other light obtained 
access. But in the darkness of night the plate is secure from this 
danger. Each star is thus given time enough to impress its little 
image at leisure. 

The photographer has often occasion to deplore the poorness 
of his light. It is, of course, in the endeavor to counteract the 
poorness of the light that so long an exposure is frequently given. 
But it will not be any longer supposed that, from the astronomer's 
point of view, a tedious exposure must necessarily be a disadvan- 
tage. Let it be henceforth recollected that it was the very require- 


ment of a long exposure wliick led to tlie present important dis- 
covery. If the stars had been bright enough to be photographed 
by an exposure not longer than a few seconds or even than a few 
minutes, then this new and wonderful planet Eros would not have 
been revealed. 

Many points of light which were undoubtedly stars, and merely 
stars, were shown on this picture taken by the German astronomer 
at Urania. Among these points of light was, however, one object 
which, though in appearance hardly distinguishable from a faint 
star, was in truth a body of a very different character. No tele- 
scope, however powerful, would show by mere inspection any ap- 
preciable difference between the dot of light indicating a star and 
the dot of light indicating the asteroid Eros. The fundamental 
difference between the star and Eros was, however, revealed by 
the long exposure. The stars in such a picture are, of course, at 
rest. They have occupied for years and for centuries the places 
where we now find them. If they are moving at all, their move- 
ments are so slow that they need not now be considered. But this 
starlike point, or, as we may at once call it, this asteroid, Eros, 
is moving. ISTot that its movements seem very rapid from the dis- 
tance at which alone we are compelled to view it. No casual glance 
would indicate that Eros was flying along. The ordinary ob- 
server would see no change in its place in a second — no change in 
its place even in a minute. But when the exposure has lasted for 
an hour this asteroid, in the course of the hour, has moved quite 
appreciably. Hence arose a great difference between the repre- 
sentation which the photograph has given of the stars, properly 
so called, and of the asteroid. Each star is depicted as a sharp, 
well-defined point. This little body which is not a star, this un- 
steady sitter in the picture, could not be so represented; it merely 
appeared as a streak. The completed photograph accordingly 
shows a large number of well-marked dots for the stars, and among 
them one faint line for the asteroid. 

Such a feature on a picture, though very unusual, does some- 
times present itself. To detect such a streak on a photograph of 
the stars is a moment of transcendent joy to the astronomer. It 
is often for him the exciting occasion on which a discovery is made. 
This little moving point is in actual fact as different from a star as 
a pebble is different from a brilliant electric light. The resem- 
blance of the asteroid to a star is merely casual; the resemblance 
would wholly disappear if we were able to make a closer inspec- 
tion. The star is a brilliant blazing orb like a sun, but so far away 
that its luster is diminished to that of a point; the planet is com- 
paratively near us; it is a dark body like our earth, and is like our 


eartli also in this furtlier respect that all tlie liglit it enjoys has 
been derived from the sun. 

Though there is this immense difference between a star and a 
planet, yet the observer must not expect to notice any such differ- 
ence by merely taking a peep through the telescope. It was only 
the long exposure in the photograph that revealed the little body. 
Such is the manner in which an asteroid is generally discovered 
in these latter days. A discovery like this comes as the well-earned 
reward of the skill and patience of the astronomical photographer. 
There are, indeed, a large number of known asteroids; our cata- 
logues contained four hundred and thirty-two of them up to the 
time when Witt exposed his now famous plate. Had the asteroid 
Witt then found been merely as other asteroids, it would never have 
received the prominent position that has now to be assigned to it in 
any account of the astronomy of the century. That object foimd 
by Witt on this night which is to be henceforth memorable in astron- 
omy is of a wholly exceptional kind. Had Eros been merely an or- 
dinary asteroid, Witt might no doubt have received the credit to 
which his labors and success would have entitled him. Another as- 
teroid would have been added to the long list of such objects already 
known, but the newspapers would never have troubled their readers 
about the matter, and the only persons who would have been 
affected would have been the astronomers, and perhaps even among 
them no particular sympathy would have been felt in certain quar- 
ters. Those particular astronomers to whom has been intrusted 
the special work of looking after the asteroids and of calculating 
the tables of their movements might even have received with no 
very great enthusiasm the announcement of this further addition to 
the burden on their heavily laden shoulders. 

I have said that Eros is quite a small globe ; it may be well for 
us fully to realize how small that asteroid actually is. If the moon 
were to be crushed into two million equal fragments, each of those 
parts would be as big as Eros. H the whole of Eros were to be 
covered with houses, the city thus formed would not be so large 
as greater London. So far as mere size is concerned, Eros is quite 
unimportant. We can further illustrate this if we compare Eros 
with some of the other planets. The well-known evening star, 
Venus, the goddess of love, is a hundred million times as big as 
that tiny orb we now call Eros, the god of love. After all this 
it may seem strange to have to maintain what is, however, undoubt- 
edly the fact, that the discovery of Eros is one of the most remark- 
able discoveries of this century. 

Until Eros was discovered, our nearest neighbors among the 
planets were considered to be Yenus on one side and Mars on the 


other. The other great planets are much more distant, while, of 
course, the stars properly so called are millions of times as far. 

Great, then, was the astonishment of the astronomers when, 
by the discovery of Eros, Mars and Venus were suddenly dethroned 
from their position of being the earth's nearest neighbors among 
the planetary host. This little Eros will, under favorable circum- 
stances, approach the earth to within about one third the distance 
of Mars when nearest, or about one half the distance of Venus 
when nearest. We thus concentrate on Eros all the interest which 
arises from the fact that, the moon of course excepted, Eros is the 
nearest globe to the earth in the wide expanse of heaven. To the 
astronomer this statement is of the utmost significance; when Eros 
comes so close it will be possible to determine its distance with a 
precision hitherto unattainable in such measurements. Once the 
distance of Eros is known, the distance of the sun and of all the 
other planets can be determined. The importance of the new dis- 
covery arises, then, from the fact that by the help of Eros all our 
measurements in the celestial spaces will gain that for which every 
astronomer strives — namely, increased accuracy. 

Seeing that the existence of intelligence is a characteristic fea- 
ture of this earth, we feel naturally very much interested in the 
question as to whether there can be intelligent beings dwelling on 
other w^orlds around us. It is only regrettable that our means 
of solving this problem are so inadequate. Indeed, until quite 
lately it would have been almost futile to discuss this question at 
all. All that could then have been said on the subject amounted 
to little more than the statement that it would be intolerable pre- 
sumption for man to suppose that he alone, of all beings in the uni- 
verse, was endowed with intelligence, and that his insignificant 
little earth, alone amid the myriad globes of space, enjoyed the dis- 
tinction of being the abode of life. Recent discovery has, however, 
given a new aspect to this question. At the end of this century 
certain observations have been made disclosing features in the 
neighboring planet. Mars, which have riveted the attention of the 
world. On this question, above most others, extreme caution is 
necessary. It is especially the duty of the man of science to weigh 
carefully the evidence offered to him on a subject so important. 
He will test that evidence by every means in his power, and if he 
finds the evidence establishes certain conclusions, then he is bound 
to accept such conclusions irrespective of all other circimistances. 

Mr. Percival Lowell has an observatory in an eminently favor- 
able position at Elagstaff, in Arizona. He has a superb telescope, 
and enjoys a perfect climate for astronomical work. Aided by 
skillful assistants, he has- observed Mars under the most favorable 


circumstances with great care for some years. I must be per- 
mitted to say that, having carefully studied what Mr. Lowell has 
set forth, and having tested his facts and figures in every way in 
my power, most astronomers have come to the conclusion that, 
however astonishing his observations may seem to be, we can not 
refuse to accept them. 

No one has ever seen inhabitants on Mars, but Mr. Percival 
Lowell and one or two other equally favored observers have seen 
features on that planet which, so far as our experience goes, can be 
explained in no other way than by supposing that they were made 
by an intelligent designer for an intelligent purpose. Mr. Lowell 
has discovered that there are certain operations in progress on the 
surface of Mars which, if we met with on this earth, we should cer- 
tainly conclude, without the slightest hesitation, were the result of 
operations conducted under what we consider rational guidance. 

A river, as ISTature has made it, wends its way to and fro; it 
never takes the shortest route from one point to another; the width 
of the river is incessantly changing; sometimes it expands into a 
lake, sometimes it divides so as to inclose an island. If we could 
discern through our telescopes a winding line such as I have de- 
scribed on Mars it might perhaps represent a river. 

But suppose, instead of a winding line, there was a perfectly 
straight line, or rather a great circle on the globe drawn as straight 
as a surveyor could lay it out — if we beheld an object like that 
on Mars I think we should certainly infer that it was not a river 
made in the ordinary course of natural operations; no natural 
river ever runs in that regular fashion. If such a straight line 
were indeed a river, then it must have been designedly straight- 
ened by human agency or by some other intelligent agency for 
some particular purpose. In its larger features Nature does not 
work by straight lines. A long and perfectly straight object, if 
found on our earth, might be a canal or it might be a road; it 
might be a railway or a terrace of some kind; but assuredly no 
one would expect it to be a natural object. 

We have the testimony of Schiaparelli, now strengthened by 
that of Mr. Lowell and his assistants, that there are many straight 
lines of this kind on Mars. They appear to be just as straight as 
a railway would have to be if laid across the flat and boundless 
prairie, where the engineer encountered no obstacle whatever to 
make him swerve from the direct path. These lines on Mars run 
for hundreds of miles, sometimes, indeed, I should say for thousands 
of miles. They are far wider than any terrestrial river, except 
perhaps the Amazon for a short part of its course. The lines on 
Mars are about forty miles wide. Indeed, the planet is so distant 


that if these lines were much narrower than forty miles they would 
be invisible. Each of them is marvelous in its uniformity through- 
out its entire length. 

The existence of these straight lines on the planet contains per- 
haps the first suggestion of the presence of some intelligent beings 
on Mars. The mere occurrence of a number of perfectly straight, 
uniform lines on such a globe would in itself be a sufficiently re- 
markable circumstance. But there are other features exhibited 
by these objects which also suggest the astonishing surmise that 
they have been constructed by some intelligent beings for some 
intelligent purposes. 

Sometimes two of these lines will start from a certain junction, 
sometimes there will be a third or a fourth from the same junction ; 
in one case there are as many as seven radiating from the same 
point. Such an arrangement of these straight lines is certainly 
unlike anything that we find in JSTature. We are led to seek for 
some other explanation of the phenomenon, and here is the expla- 
nation which Mr. Lowell offers: 

It has recently been found that there are no oceans of water 
on the planet Mars. In earlier days it used no doubt to be be- 
lieved that the dark marks easily seen in the telescope could rep- 
resent nothing but oceans, but I think we must now give up the 
notion that these are watery expanses. Indeed, there is not much 
water on that globe anywhere in comparison with the abundance 
of water on our earth. It is the scarcity of water which seems to 
give a clew to some of the mysteries discovered on Mars by Schia- 
parelli and Lowell. 

As our earth moves round the sun we have, of course, the 
changing seasons of the year. In a somewhat similar manner 
Mars revolves around the sun, and accordingly this planet has also 
its due succession of seasons. There is a summer on Mars, and 
there is a winter; during the winter on that globe the poles of 
the planet are much colder than at other seasons, and the water 
there accumulates in the form of ice or snow to make those ice-caps 
that telescopic observers have so long noticed. In this respect 
Mars, of course, is like our earth. The ice-cap at each pole of 
our globe is so vast that even the hottest summer does not suffice 
to melt the accumulation; much of the ice and snow there remains 
to form the eternal snow which every arctic explorer so well knows. 
It would seem, however, that the contrast between winter and sum- 
mer on Mars must be much more deeply marked than the contrast 
between winter and summer on our earth. During the summer of 
Mars ice and snow vanish altogether from the poles of that planet. 

Mr. Lowell supposes that water is so scarce on Mars that the 


inhabitants have found it necessary to economize to the utmost 
whatever stock there may be of this most necessary element. The 
observations at Flagstaff tend to show that the dark lines on Mars 
mark the course of the canals by which the water melted in sum- 
mer in the arctic regions is conducted over the globe to the tracts 
where the water is wanted. Not that the line as we see it repre- 
sents actually the water itself; the straight line so characteristic 
of Mars's globe seems rather to correspond to the zones of vegeta- 
tion which are brought into culture by means of water that flows 
along a canal in its center. In much the same way would the 
course of the Nile be exhibited to an inhabitant on Mars who was 
directing a telescope toward this earth: the river itself would not 
be visible, but the cultivated tracts which owe their fertility to 
the irrigation from the river would be broad enough to be distin- 
guishable. The appearance of these irrigated zones would vary, 
of course, with the seasons; and we observe, as might have been 
expected, changes in the lines on Mars corresponding to the changes 
in the seasons of the planet. 

A noteworthy development of astronomy in the last century 
has been the erection of mighty telescoj^es for the study of the 
heavens. It m.ust here suffice to mention, as the latest and most 
remarkable of these, the famous instrument at the Yerkes Observa- 
tory, which belongs to the University of Chicago. Just as the 
century is drawing to its close, the Yerkes telescope has begun to 
enter on its sublime task of exhibiting the heavens under greater 
advantages than have ever been previously afforded to any astrono- 
mers since the world began. 

The University of Chicago having been recently founded, it 
was desired to associate with the university an astronomical ob- 
servatory which should be worthy of the astonishing place that this 
wonderful city has assumed in the world's history. Mr. Yerkes, 
an American millionaire, generously undertook to provide the cost 
of this observatory. Two noble disks of glass, forty inches in 
diameter, were produced at the furnaces of Messrs. Mantois, in 
Paris; these disks were worked by Mr. Alvan Clark, of Boston, 
into the famous object glass which, weighing nearly half a ton, has 
now been mounted in what we may describe as a temple or a palace 
such as had never been dreamed of before in the whole annals of 

Perhaps if we could now place the science of the nineteenth 
century in its proper perspective the most remarkable discovery 
which it contains would be that of the planet Neptune. Indeed, 
the whole annals of science present no incident of a more dramatic 


It will be remembered that at the latter part of the eighteenth 
century William Herschel had immortalized himself by the dis- 
covery of a great planet, to which was presently assigned the name 
of Uranus. After the movements of Uranus had been carefully 
studied, it was found that on many previous occasions Uranus had 
been unwittingly observed by astronomers, who regarded it as a 
star. "When these observations were all brought together, and 
when the track which Uranus followed through the heavens was 
thus opened to investigation, it was found that the movements of 
th« planet presented considerable anomalies. The planet did not 
move precisely as it would have moved had it been subjected solely 
to the supreme attractive power of the sun. Astronomers are, of 
course, accustomed to irregularities of this description in the move- 
ments of the planets. These irregularities have as their origin 
the attractions of the various other members of the solar system. 
It is possible to submit these attractions to calculation and thus to 
estimate their amount. The effect, for instance, of Saturn in dis- 
turbing Jupiter can be allowed for, and the nature of Jupiter's 
motion as thus modified can be precisely estimated. In like man- 
ner, the influence of the earth on Yenus can be determined, and so 
for the other planets; and thus, generally speaking, it was found 
that when the proper allowances had been made for the action of 
known causes of disturbance, then the calculated movement of each 
planet could be reconciled with observation. 

The circumstances of Uranus were, however, in this respect 
wholly exceptional. Due allowance was first made for the attrac- 
tion of Uranus by Saturn, and for the attraction of Uranus by 
Jupiter, as well as by the other planets. It was thus found that 
the irregularities of Uranus could be to some extent explained, but 
that it was not possible in this manner to account for those irregu- 
larities completely. It was therefore evident that some influence 
must be at work affecting the movement of Uranus, in addition 
to those arising from any planet of which astronomers hitherto had 
cognizance. The only available supposition would be that some 
other planet, at present unrecognized, must be in our system, and 
that the attraction of this unknown body must give rise to those 
irregularities of Uranus which remained still outstanding. 

A great problem was thus proposed for mathematicians. It 
was nothing less than to affect the determination of the orbit and 
the position of this unknown planet, the sole guide to the solution 
of the problem being afforded by the discrepancies between the 
places of Uranus as actually observed and the places which were 
indicated by the calculations, when every allowance had been made 
for known causes. The -problem was indeed a diflicult one, but, 

VOL. LVI. — 24 


fortunately, two mathematicians proved to be equal to the task 
of solving it — Adams, in England, and Le Verrier, in France. 
Each of these astronomers, in independence of the other, suc- 
ceeded in determining the place of the planet in the sky. The 
dramatic incident of this discovery was afforded when the mathe- 
maticians had done their work. When the place of the planet 
had been ascertained, then the telescopic search was undertaken 
to verify if it were indeed the case that a planet hitherto unknown 
did actually lurk in the spot to which the calculations pointed. 
Every one who has ever read a book on astronomy is well acquainted 
with the wonderful manner in which this verification was made. 
Just where the mathematicians indicated, there was the great planet 
discovered! To this object the name of "Neptune" has been 
assigned, and its discovery may be said to mark an epoch in the 
history of gravitation. It provided a most striking illustration 
of the truth of those great laws Avhich ISTewton had discovered. 

The latter half of the century will be also remarkable in the 
history of science from the fact that within that period mankind 
has been enabled to make some acquaintance with the chemistry 
of the celestial bodies. It was in 1859 that Kirchhoff and Bunsen 
first expounded to the world the true meaning of the dark lines in 
the solar spectrum. In this they were following out a line of rea- 
soning that had been previously suggested by Prof. Sir G. Stokes, 
of Cambridge, England. Those who are at all conversant with 
that wonderful branch of knowledge known as spectrum analysis 
are aware how these discoveries have rendered it possible for us 
to determine in many cases the actual material elements found in 
the most distant bodies. 

One of the striking results to which this investigation has 
led is the demonstration of the substantial unity of the mate- 
rials from which the earth and the various heavenly bodies have 
been constructed. Those elements which enter most abundantly 
into the composition of the earth are also the elements which 
appear to enter most abundantly into the composition of the sun 
and of the stars. The iron and the hydrogen, the sodium and the 
many other materials of which our globe is so largely formed, are 
also the selfsame materials which, in widely different proportions 
and in very different associations, go to form the heavenly bodies. 
This conclusion is as interesting as it was unexpected. It might 
naturally have been thought that, seeing the sun is separated from 
us by nearly a hundred million miles, and seeing that the stars 
are separated from us by millions of millions of miles, all these 
celestial bodies must be constructed in quite a different manner 
and of substances quite distinct from the substances which we know 


on this earth. But this is not the case. Indeed, at the present 
moment it seems doubtful if there be any element which spectrum 
analysis has hitherto disclosed in the celestial bodies which is not 
also a recognized terrestrial body. The well-known case of helium 
gives a striking illustration. In the year 1868 Sir jSTorman Lockyer 
detected the presence of rays in the solar spectrum which were 
unknown at that time in terrestrial chemistry. These rays ap- 
peared to emanate from some substance which, though present in 
the sun, did not then appear to belong to the earth. This element 
was accordingly named " helium," to indicate its solar origin. 
Twenty-five years later Professor Kamsay discovered a substance 
on the earth which had been hitherto unrecognized, and which, on 
examination, yielded in the spectrum precisely those same rays 
which had been found in the so-called helium from the sun. In 
consequence of this discovery this element is now recognized as a 
terrestrial body. It is indeed a remarkable illustration of the 
extraordinary character of modern methods of research that a sub- 
stance should have first been discovered at a distance of nearly one 
hundred million miles, that same substance being all the time, 
though no doubt in very small quantities, a constituent of our 
earth as well as of the sun. 

Much has been done within the past century in many other 
branches of astronomy. I must especially mention the important 
subject of meteoric showers. For the development of our knowl- 
edge of this attractive part of astronomy we are largely indebted 
to the labors of the late Prof. H. Newton, of Yale. By his inves- 
tigations, in conjunction with those of the late Professor Adams, 
it was demonstrated that the shower of shooting stars which usually 
appears in the middle of ITovember is derived from a shoal of small 
bodies which revolve around the sun in an elliptic track, and accom- 
plish that circuit in about thirty-three years and a quarter. The 
earth crosses the track of these meteors in the middle of November. 
If it should happen that the great shoal is passing through the 
junction at the time the earth also arrives there, then the earth 
rushes through the shoal of little bodies. These plunge into our 
atmosphere, they are ignited by the friction, and a great shower is 
observed. It is thus that we account for the recurrence of spe- 
cially superb displays at intervals of about thirty-three years. 

But one more great astronomical discovery of this century 
must be mentioned, and here again, as in so many other instances, 
we are indebted to American astronomers. It was in 1877 that 
Prof. Asaph Hall discovered that the planet Mars was attended 
by two satellites. This was indeed a great achievement, and 
excited the liveliest interest and attention. Since the days when 



telescopes were first invented all the astronomers have been look- 
ing at Mars, and yet they never noticed (their telescopes were not 
good enough) those interesting satellites which the acute observa- 
tion of Professor Hall detected with the help of the great telescope 
of the Naval Observatory at Washington. This discovery was fol- 
lowed by another of a still more delicate nature, when that con- 
summate observer, Professor Barnard, using the great Lick tele- 
scope, detected the fifth satellite of Jupiter. This is indeed a most 
difficult object to observe, requiring, as it does, the highest optical 
power, the most perfect atmospheric conditions, and the most skill- 
ful of astronomical observers. "We may take this observation to 
represent the high-water mark of telescopic astronomy in the nine- 
teenth century. This being so, it may fitly conclude this brief 
account of some of the most remarkable astronomical discoveries 
which that century has produced. 




THERE is something about fire which fascinates every one, yet 
the action of explosives arouses even a livelier interest, since 
the accompanying fiery phenomena are more intense and are at- 
tended with a shocking report and a violent destruction of the sur- 
rounding material, while this train of events, with all its marked 

Gun-Cotton Factory. I)i|>iiiiifr cottini in nitratiiif,' troughs. 



effects, is set in operation by what appears to be a very slight ini- 
tial cause. It is evident on brief consideration that these bodies, 
like a coiled spring, a bent bow, or a head of water, are enormous 
reservoirs of energy which can be released at a touch, and which, if 

GcN-CoTTON Factory. Diirestion troui^hs. 

the explosive be properly placed in well-proportioned amounts and 
discharged at the right time, can be made to do useful and impor- 
tant work that can not be as conveniently and quickly accomplished 
in most cases, and in some cases can not be accomplished at all by 
any other means. 

The marked characteristic of all explosive substances, and espe- 
cially of the so-called high explosives, is that the energy, as devel- 
oped, is at high potential, and the uses to which energy in this con- 
dition can be economically put are so manifold that the production 
of explosives has become one of the most important of our chemical 
.industries, this country alone producing, in 1890, 108,735,980 
pounds, having a value of nearly $11,000,000. 

The number of possible substances possessing explosive prop- 
erties is exceedingly large; the number actually known is so great 
that it has taxed the ingenuity of inventors to provide them with 
suitable names; but these various explosive substances vary to so 
great an extent in the energy they will develop in practice and in 
their safety in storage, transportation, and use that but a compara- 
tivelv small number have met with wide acceptance. All may be 



classified under the heads of physical mixtures like gunpowder, or 
chemical compounds like nitroglycerin, and they owe their develop- 
ment of energy to the fact that, like gunpowder, they are mixtures 
in which combustible substances such as charcoal are mixed with 
supporters of combustion such as niter; or that, like chloride of 
nitrogen, they are chemical compounds, the formation of whose 
molecules is attended with the absorption of heat; or that, like gun 
cotton, they are chemical compounds whose molecules contain both 
the combustible and the supporter of combustion, and whose for- 
mation from their elements is attended with the absorption of heat; 
while occupying a middle place between the gunpowder and the 

Gu^■-C^'TT^>^ Factduv. J-'inal i>n:ss. 

gun-cotton class, and possessing also to some degree the properties 
of the nitrogen-chloride class, are the nitro-substitution explosives, 
of which melinite, emmonsite, lyddite, and joveite furnish conspicu- 
ous examples. 

It may lead to a clearer understanding of what is said regarding 
the applications of explosives to dwell briefly on the methods by 
which some of them are produced, since, although the raw material 
in each case is different and the details of the operations vary, the 
underlying principles of the methods are the same, and a good ex- 
ample is found in the military gun cotton as made by the Abel 
process at tho TTiiitorl States Naval Torpedo Station. 



Gi;npowi)j;r Grains. The large ones are over 
five pounds weight, each. 

The material employed is cotton, but whether fresh from the 
field or in the form of waste, it must first be freed from dirt by 
hand picking and sorting, 
and from grease and in- 
crusting substances by boil- 
ing in a weak soda solution. 
The cotton is now dried by 
wringing in a centrifugal 
wringer and exposing to a 
current of hot air in a metal 
closet; but as the compacted 

mass of cotton holds moisture with great persistency, after partial 
drying the cotton is passed through a cotton picker to open the 
fiber, so that it not only yields its contained water more readily 
and completely, but it also absorbs the acids more speedily in the 
dipping process to which it is subsequently exposed. 

When the moisture, by the final drying, is reduced to one half 
of one per cent the cotton is, while hot, placed in copper tanks 
which close hermetically, where it cools to the atmospheric tem- 
perature and in which it is transported to the dipping room, where 
a battery of large iron troughs, filled with a mixture of one part of 
the most concentrated nitric acid and three parts of the most con- 
centrated sulphuric acid, set in a large iron water bath to keep the 
mixture at a uniform temperature, is placed under a hood against 
the wall. The fluffy cotton, in one-pound lots, is dipped handful 
by handful under the acid, by means of an iron fork, where it is 
allowed to remain for ten minutes, when it is raised to the grating 
at the rear of the trough and squeezed with the lever press to re- 

BuRNiNQ Disk of Gun Cotton. 


move the excess of acid. It still retains about ten pounds of the 
acid mixture, and in this condition is placed in an acid-proof stone- 
ware crock, where it is squeezed by another iron press to cause the 
contained acid to rise above the surface of the partly converted 



cotton. The covered crock is now placed with others in wooden 
troughs containing running water so as to keep the temperature 
uniform, where the cotton is allowed to digest for about twenty- 
four hours. The acid is then wrung out in a steel centrifugal, and 
the wrung gun cotton is thrown in small lots into an immersion 
tank containing a large volume of flowing water, in which a paddle 
wheel is revolving so as to rapidly dilute and wash away the residual 

Making Mehcuky Fulminate. 

acid in the gun cotton without permitting any considerable rise 
of temperature from the reaction of the water with the acid. 

Even these severe means are not enough, for, as the cotton fiber 
is in the form of hairlike tubes, traces of the acid sufficient to bring 
about the subsequent decomposition of the gun cotton are retained 
by capillarity. Therefore, after boiling with a dilute solution of 
sodium carbonate, the gun cotton is pulped and washed in a beater 
or rag engine until the fiber is reduced to the fineness of corn meal, 
and a sample of it will pass the " heat test." This is a test of the 

resistance of gun cotton 


Detonator used in the United States Navy. 
Contains thirty -five grains of fulminate of mercury. 

to decomposition, and re- 
quires that when the air- 
dried sample of gun cotton 
is heated to 65.5° C in a 
closed tube in which a moistened strip of potassium iodide and 
starch paper is suspended, the paper should not become discolored 
in less than fifteen minutes' exposure. 

This pulping of the gun cotton not only enables one to more 



completely purify it, but it also renders it possible to mold it into 
convenient forms and to compress it so as to greatly increase its 
efficiency in use. For this purpose the pulp is suspended in water 

Torpedo Cases and Blocks of Wood destroyed by a Naval Detonator. 

and pumped to a molding press, where, under a hydraulic pressure 
of one hundred pounds to the square inch, it is molded into cylin- 
ders or prisms about three inches in diameter and five inches and 
a half high, and these are compressed to two inches in height by 
a final press exerting a pressure of about sixty-eight hundred pounds 
to the square inch. As this is regarded as a somewhat hazardous 
operation, the press is surrounded by a mantlet woven from stout 
rope to protect the workmen from flying pieces of metal in case 
of an accident. The oper- 
ation is analogous to that 
employed in powder-mak- 
ing, where the gunpowder 
has been pressed in a great 
variety of forms and into 
single grains weighing sev- 
eral pounds apiece. 

Even under the enor- 
mous pressure of the final 
press the compressed gun cotton still retains from twelve to six- 
teen per cent of water, and in this form it is quite safe to store 
and handle. When dry it is very combustible and burns readily 

Testing Detonators on Iron Plates 



when ignited, but it can be quenelied by pouring water upon it. 
When confined in the chamber of a gun or the bore-hole of a rock, 
gun cotton will burn like gunpowder when ignited, if dry, and pro- 
duce an explosion, but, in common 
with nitroglycerin and other high 
explosives, gun cotton is best ex- 
ploded and develops its maximum 
effect when detonated, a result 
which is secured by exploding a 
small quantity of mercury ful- 
minate in contact with the dry 

Mercury fulminate is made by 
dissolving mercury in nitric acid 
and pouring the solution thus pro- 
duced into alcohol, when a violent reaction takes place and the ful- 
minate is deposited as a crystalline gray powder. This powder is 
loaded in copper cases and, after drying, it is primed with dry-mealed 

Ikon Cylihder filled with Water and 
CONTAINING A Naval Detonator. Be- 
fore and after tiring, shows the work ac- 
complished by thirty -five grains of mer- 
cury fulminate. 

Smokeless I'owdeks. In the bottle is iiulurite in flake grains. Tlit hir>rcr grains are cylin- 
drical and Jie.xagonal multiperforated United States army grains. The bent grain in the 
foreground, looking like a piece of rubber tubing, is a grain of Maxim powder with a 
single canal. The flat strips in tlie foreground on the left are grains of the French B. N. 
powder. The flat strips in the foreground on the right are grains of the United States 
navy '• pyrocclbilosc " ]>owder. 

gun cotton, the mouth of the case being cluicJ with a sulphur-glass 
plug, through which pass two copper leading wires joined by a bridge 
of platinum-iridium wire, two one-thousandths of an incli in diame- 



ter, which becomes heated to incandescence when an electric current 
is sent through it. This device is what is known as the naval deto- 
nator. Mercury fulminate is so employed because it is the most vio- 

Blendino Machine for Cobdite. 

lent of all explosives in common use, and exerts a pressure of forty- 
eight thousand atmospheres when fired in contact. Although the 
naval detonator contains but thirty-five grains of mercury fulminate, 
yet it will rupture stout iron and heavy tin torpedo cases when fired 
suspended in them, it will rend thick blocks of wood when placed in 
a hole and fired within them, and it will even pierce holes through 
plates of the finest wrought iron one-sixteenth inch in thickness if 
only the base of the detonator is in contact with the plate, and this 
has been used as a test of their efficiency. Its force is markedly 
shown by firing one in a stout iron cylinder filled with water and 
closed tightly, when the cylinder is blown into a shredded sphere. 
When used to detonate gun cotton, either when confined or in the 
open, the detonator is placed in the hole which has been molded 
in the center of the gun-cotton disk or block, so that it shall be 
in close contact with the gun cotton. 
I have found that perfectly dry com- 
pressed gun cotton is detonated by 
2.83 grains of mercury fulminate; 
but as a torpedo attack is neces- 
sarily in the nature of a forlorn hope 
and should be provided with every 

possible provision against failure, and since if the detonator fails 
the attack fails, the naval detonator is supplied with thirty-five 
grains, so as to give a large coefficient of assurance. 

Cartridge of Cordite Siiokeless Pow- 
der. Char^'e lor 6-inch 2 F gun, 13 
pounds, 4 ounces. Cords, 22% inches 
lonir, 3 inches in diameter. 




A characteristic feature of gun cotton is that it may be deto- 
nated even when completely saturated with and immersed in wa- 
ter, if only some dry gun cotton be deto- 
nated in contact with it. Thus in one 
experiment a disk of dry gun cotton was 
covered with a water-proof coating and 
the detonator inserted in the detonator 
liole of this disk. This dry disk was laid 
upon four uncoated disks, the five lashed 
tightly together, and sunk in Newport 
Harbor, where the column remained 
until the uncoated disks were saturated 
with salt water, when the mine was fired 
and the saturated disks were found by 
measurement of the work done to have 
been completely exploded. I have found 
that three ounces of dry compressed 
gun cotton v/ill cause the detonation 
of wet compressed gun cotton in contact with it, but forty 
ounces of dry gun cotton are used as the primer in our naval 
mines and torpedoes, so as to give a large coefficient of assur- 

In the mining and other industries the fulminate is used in 
smaller quantities and it is generally mixed with potassium chlo- 
rate, the mixture being com- 
pressed in small copper cases 
and sold as blasting caps. 
They are fired by means of a 
piece of Bickford or running- 
fuse, consisting of a woven 
cotton or hemp tube contain- 
ing a core of gunpowder, 
which is inserted in the mouth 
of the copper cap and made 
fast within it by crimping. 
The capped fuse is then in- 
serted in a dynamite cartridge 
so that the cap is firmly in 
contact with the dynamite, 
the mouth of the cartridge 
is fastened securely, and the 
charge inserted in the bore- 
hole in the rock and tamped, 
lighted, and the fire travels at the rate of three feet per minute 

lil,il\VI.\(} II' TIIK SCIIOONEK .Joil.l'll JIkN1:V. 

The protruding end of the fuse is 



down the train of gunpowder to the fuhninate, which then deto- 
nates and causes the detonation of the dynamite. 

Although gun cotton, nitroglycerin, and their congeners can 
be and usually are fired by detonation, there has within recent 
years been a great number of compositions invented which, while 
formed from gun cotton alone or mixtures of it with nitroglycerin, 
burn progressively when ignited and are therefore available for 
use as propellants; and since the products of their burning are 
almost wholly gaseous, they produce but little or no smoke and 
are therefore called smokeless powders. As upward of fifty-seven 
per cent of the products of the burning of ordinary gunpowder 
are solids or easily compressed vapors, this comparative smokeless- 
ness of the modern powders is a very important characteristic, and 

TuKl'KDu I'KAl IICI., 

when used in battle they seriously modify our former accepted 
methods of handling troops. While this is the feature of these 
powders which has attracted popular attention, a far more impor- 
tant quality which they possess is the power to impart to a pro- 
jectile a much higher velocity than black powder does, without 
exerting an undue pressure on the gun. A velocity of over twenty- 
four hundred feet per second has been imparted to a one-hundred- 
pound projectile with the powder that I have invented for our 
navy, while the pressure on the gun was less than fifteen tons to 
the square inch. 

Prior to my work in this field all the so-called smokeless pow- 
ders were mixtures of several ingredients, resembling gunpowder 
in this respect. But, consideriixg the precise and difficult w^ork 
that was expected of these high-powered powders and the difficulty 



which had always been found in securing uniformity in mixtures, 
and that this difficulty had become the more apparent as the gun be- 
came more highly developed, I sought to produce a powder which 
should consist of a single chemical substance in a state of chemical 
purity, and w^hich could be formed into grains of such form and 
size as were most suitable for the piece in which the powder was 
to be used. 

I succeeded in so treating cellulose nitrate of the highest de- 
gree of nitration as to convert it into a mass like ivory and yet 
leave it pure. In this indurated condition the gun cotton will 
burn freely, but it has not been possible to detonate it even when 
closely confined and exposed to the initial detonation of large 
masses of mercurv fulminate. 

i'ol.'I'EIici I'KAc TIiK 

>N Tin; « rsiiiN( 

I am happy to say that this principle has now been adopted 
by the Russian Government, and by our navy in its specifications 
for smokeless powder; but they have, I think unwisely, selected 
a cellulose nitrate containing 12.5 per cent or less of nitrogen in- 
stead of that of the highest nitration. 

This work was completed, a factory established, and the pro- 
cesses well marked out when I left the torpedo station in 1892. 
Besides this, there were then already commercial works established 
elsewhere in this country for the manufacture of the nitroglycerin- 
nitrocellulose powders of the ballistite class, while large quanti- 
ties of many varieties could be easily procured abroad. Consid- 
ering these facts, and that France and Germany had already 
adopted smokeless powders in 1887, that Italy adopted one in 
1888, and England about the same time, it is unpardonable that 
our services should not yet have adopted any of the smokeless pow- 
ders available when we were drawn into the conflict with Spain. 



Besides their use as ballistic agents, gun cotton, dynamite, and 
explosive gelatin in their ordinary condition have found employ- 
ment and been adopted as service explosives in military and naval 
mining, as their great energy and the violence with which they 

Launching Patrick Torpedo from the Wats. 

explode, even when unconiined, especially adapt them for use in 
the various kinds of torpedoes and mines which are in vogue in 
the service. 

One form of these torpedoes was attached to the end of a spar 
or pole which was rigged out from the bow of a launch or vessel 
so that it could be thrust under the enemy's vessel, and the deto- 
nators of such spar torpedoes were not only connected with elec- 
tric generators, so that they could be fired at will, but they, in 
common with mines, were frequently provided with a system of 
levers so arranged that the enemy's vessel fired the torpedoes and 
mines automatically as it came in contact with the levers. It 
was with such a contact-spar torpedo, containing thirty-three 

Patrick Torpedo undek way. Movin<T at the rate of twenty-three knots per hour. 

pounds of gun cotton, that the schooner Joseph Henry was blown 
up in Newport Harbor in 1884. 

There are many types of the automobile torpedo. Among 
them the Hall, Patrick, -Whitehead, and Howell may be cited. 


The first three are propelled by the energy resident in compressed 
gases ; the Howell by the energy stored in a heavy fly wheel, which 
also, by acting on the gyroscopic principle, serves to maintain the 
direction imparted to the torpedo as it is launched. The Hall, 
Whitehead, and Howell are launched from tubes or guns by means 
of light powder charges, and are independent of exterior control 
after launching. The Patrick is launched from ways, and is con- 
trolled from the shore or boat by a wire through which an elec- 
tric current may be sent to its steering mechanism. The charges 
are quite variable, but the war heads of the larger torpedoes con- 
tain as much as five hundred pounds of gun cotton. 

[To be concluded. '\ 



"TTT^HILE I have had the privilege of making several indirect 
^ » studies of anarchists by means of the data furnished by 
legal processes, the journals, and the handwriting of the subjects, 
I have only rarely been able to examine one directly and make 
those measurements and craniological determinations upon him 
without which any study can be only approximate, or, we might 
even say, hypothetical. I had, however, an opportunity a short 
time ago to observe a real anarchist in person, and study him ac- 
cording to the methods of my criminological clinic. The results 
have been singular, and it seems to me that they should cast some 
light upon the dark world of these agitators, and especially upon 
the phenomena of the strange contradictions presented in their 
life; manifestations which jurists and police officers, intent only 
on achieving the judicial triumph of a conviction, consider and call 
simulations and falsehoods. 

He was a fellow who had caused a great excitement, during the 
crowded days of the exposition at Turin, by saying that he wanted 
to kill the king. In fact, he gave himself up to the police, saying 
that the anarchists of Alexandria were seeking the assassination 
of the king, and had written him a letter directing him to arm 
himself, but that he, wishing anything else than to commit regicide, 
had surrendered in order to denounce the scheme. There was no 
real basis of criminal intent, but our police put him in prison, 
and there I found him. 

His physiognomy presented all the characteristics of the born 
criminal and of the foolhardy and sanguinary anarchist. He had 



flaring ears, premature and deep wrinkles, small, sinister eyes sunk 
back in their orbits, a hollowed flat nose, and small beard — in short, 
he presented an extraordinary resemblance to Kavachol, as may be 
seen from their portraits. 

The cranium was a little smaller than the normal, and the 
upper part of the skull was much rounded and deformed, with a 
cephalic index of 91 — considerably more rounded than the head 
of Luceheni. The horizontal 

fold of the hand was of a .. .>.uc:'_ 

type much like that of Rava- 

I add that the biological 
study, which was made di- 
rectly, and therefore more 
satisfactorily than was prac- 
ticable with Caserio and Luc- 
eheni, revealed a series of 
very singular anomalies; a 
touch six times more obtuse 
than the normal — six milli- 
metres on. the right, five on 
the left; a remarkably blunt 
sensitiveness to pain and dull 
perception of location; an 
extraordinarily reduced vis- 
ual field, jDarticularly in the 
left eye; a somewhat tremu- 
lous handwriting, and slight 
defects of articulation in 
speech; and thin hair. There 
was nothing very striking in 
his affective nature. He spoke kindly of his parents, whom he 
would be glad to see. But he had a blunt moral sense, and had 
committed frequent thefts, especially against his family, so that he 
had been put into a house of correction. And it was just while 
he was still in this establishment, at sixteen years of age, that he 
pretended to have been invited to attend a meeting of about thirty 
anarchists at Brescia, where he was made to swear, kissing a dag- 
ger, to kill the king. He described the room, and spoke of the 
individual persons present, and then said that he thought no more 
of the matter after he returned to the house; but a few days ago 
it had come into his m.ind to go to the post oflace, and there he had 
found a letter from the anarchists of Alexandria, urging him to 
arm himself to kill the king. 

VOL. LTI. — "25 







He repeated this story minutely and with great persistence, 
notwithstanding the postal authorities denied having given him the 
letter, in the face of the asseverations of the prefects that there 
were not thirty anarchists in Brescia, where he was in correction, 
and although all the facts were against him. Observe that he 
was in prison, that he had been there three months, and that 
he was told he would be likely to stay there as long as he adhered 
to his story. 

Efforts to account for the phenomenon were unsuccessful, be- 
cause his friends and relatives made no mention of any traces of 
insanity. Light began to break upon the case when it was learned 
that he had attempted suicide, a few years before, in grief at the 
death of his mother, and also that on the day before he gave him- 
self up he had stolen a small sum from his drunken brother. 
These, however, were only distant hints. The matter was fully 
explained when, after he had drunk a litre of wine in the prison, 
he began to exclaim, " Viva Vanarchio! " (Hurrah for anarchy!), 
" Morie al Be!'' (Death to the king!), to kiss a dagger, to break 
various things against imaginary guards, and, after a short period 
of quiet, to swear and forswear himself that his companions had 

done what he had done, that 
they had shouted for anarchy, 
had broken the vases, and had 
desired to kill the king. 

This cleared up the matter at 
once for me, but I wished to 
complete the elucidation with 
an experiment. I began by giv- 
ing him ten, then twenty, then 
tliirty, then forty grammes of al- 
cohol, up to eighty. I observed 
that liis personality began to 
change after forty grammes. 
He became somewhat insolent 
and suspicious, and had vague 
delirious imaginings of persecu- 
tions. When invited to sing 
anarchistic songs he refused, evidently fearing to compromise 
himself, but sang them voluntarily in an undertone. When 
the dose of alcohol was increased to ninety grammes his personal- 
ity seemed immediately to undergo a full change; his touch be- 
came twice as fine (three millimetres), and his visual field increased 
threefold; he declared that there was a spy around. When 
put into his cell he sang annrcliistic hymns, threatened death to 




the king, bandied a box as if brandisbing a dagger, climbed 
to a windoAv and insulted the sentinel, resisted five men who 
tried to disarm him, and continued in this condition for eight 

The next day he denied having done any of these things, avowed 
that he was a good monarchist and a good citizen, and declared dis- 
tinctly that he had not do]ie 

what he had done, in the " 

face of the concurrent tes- 
timony of several witnesses. 
On renewing the experi- 
ment a few days afterward 
with eighty grammes of al- 
cohol, the same series of 
phenomena recurred — a 
real anarchistic raving, a 
genuine mania for regi- 
cide, which would certainly 
have ended in some act if 
he had not been restrained 
by force; and this person, 
who had at first present- 
ed an evident obtusity of 
touch and an extraordinary 
contraction of the visual 
field, now exhibited an al- 
most normal toucb of three millimetres and a visual field enlarged 
to triple its extent when he was sober. 

On the day after this he recollected none of all the things that 
had happened the day before. This double personality was deter- 
mined in him by alcohol, as it is in others by misery or by fanati- 
cism, while it rests with all upon a congenital basis. The fact 
helps us to explain how some inoffensive man may have a type of 
physiognomy quite similar to that of Ravachol, showing how often 
there are true criminals in potency, whose physiognomy, or rather 
the anomalies of it, bears a prophetic relation to the crime which 
breaks out on the first determining circumstance. And we have 
here another explanation of such contradictory characters as those 
of Ravachol, Caserio, and Luccheni, who, having been once well- 
behaved, end by becoming criminals. 

Visual Field (Left Eye) of Chie . . . Giac . . . 

The line indicates the normal visual 

field Heft eye). 
Tlie line 

indicates the visual field (left 

eye) under alcoholic excitement. 

Applied science was defined by Sir W. Roberts Austen, in his presi- 
dential address to the Iron and Steel Institute, 1899, as " nothing but the 
application of pure science to particular classes of problems." 




OE all the wonderful operations accomplished by the aid of 
electricity at the present time, none so completely mystifies 
the beholder as the action of the trolley car. The electric light, 
although incomprehensible to the average layman, does not excite 
his curiosity to the same extent. The glowing filament of an in- 
candescent lamp or the dazzling carbon points of an arc light stimu- 
late the inquisitive proclivities to some extent, but as the popular 
notion with respect to the nature of electricity is that it is some 
kind of fluid that can flow through wires and other things like water 
through a pipe, the conclusion arrived at is that the current, in its 
passage through the filament or the carbon points, generates a suffi- 
cient amount of heat to raise the temperature of the material to 
the luminous point. The fact that energy is required to raise the 
temperature of the mass to the incandescent point is not taken into 
consideration by those not versed in technical matters, owing to 
the fact that, as nothing moves, it is not supposed that power can 
be expended. When a trolley car is seen coming down the street 
at a high rate of speed the effect upon the mind is very different. 
Here we see a vast amount of weight propelled at a high velocity, 
and yet the only source through which the power to accomplish 
this result is supplied is a small wire. The mystifying cause does 
not stop here, for if we look further into the matter we see that 
the energy has to pass from the trolley wire to the car through 
the very small contact between it and the trolley wheel. After 
contemplating these facts, it appears remarkable that the energy 
that can creep through this diminutive passage can by any means 
be made to develop the force necessary to propel a car with a 
heavy load up a steep grade. An electrical engineer, if asked to 
explain the action, would say that the force of magnetic attraction 
was made use of to accomplish the result, but this explanation 
would fail to throw any light upon the subject. In what follows, 
it is proposed to explain the matter in a simple manner, and then 
it will be seen that what appears to be an incomprehensible mys- 
tery, when not understood, is, in fact, no mystery at all. 

Electricity and magnetism are two forces that are intimately 
associated with each other, and, although radically different, it is 

NoTK. — The illus^trations of railway motor, penerator, and switchboard (Fifjs. 15, 16, l*/) 
were made from photographs kindly furnished by the manufacturers, the Westinghouse 
Electric and Manufacturing Company. 



difficult, if not impossible, to obtain one without the other, although 
it is a simple matter to make one inactive under certain conditions. 
It is very generally understood that a magnet possesses the power 
of attraction, and that it will draw toward it pieces of iron, steel, 
and other magnets. The laws governing the attractive properties 
of magnets, however, are not so well understood, and many are 
not aware of the fact that under certain conditions one magnet 
will repel another, but such is nevertheless the case. 

In Fig. 1 the lower outline, M, represents a magnet fixed in 
position, and the upper bar represents another magnet arranged 
to swing freely around the pivot a. A magnet, as is generally 
known, will arrange itself in a north-to-south position if suspended 
from its center, like a scale beam, and allowed to swing freely, and 
the same end will always point toward the north. On this account 
the ends of a magnet are called its poles, and the one that will 
point toward the north is desig- 
nated the north pole, while the 
other one is the south pole. The 
terms north and south poles were 
applied to magnets centuries ago, 
but at the present time the ends 
are more commonly designated 
as positive and negative. In Fig. 
1 it will be noticed that the sta- 
tionary magnet has its positive 
end upward, and this attracts the 
negative end of the swinging 
magnet. If the order of the 

poles is reversed, so that the positive of the swinging magnet wdll 
come opposite the positive of the stationary one, then there will 
be a repulsive action instead of an attraction, as is shown in Fig. 2. 
If the two negative ends were placed opposite, the effect would 
be the same. From this we see that to obtain an attraction we 
must place the magnets so that opposite poles come together, and 
that by reversing the order we obtain a repulsive action. 

If the swinging magnet is replaced by a bar of iron, as is shown 
in Fig. 3, there will be an attraction, no matter what end of the 
magnet may be uppermost, thus showing that either end of a mag- 
net will attract a bar of iron. The explanation of these different 
actions is that when tw'o magnets are brought into proximity to 
each other each one exerts its force without any regard to the 
other, and if the two are set to act together they will attract one 
another, but if set to act in opposition they will repel. When one 
of the bars is not a magnet, but simply a piece of iron or steel, 

Figs. 1, 2, 3. — Diagrams illustrating the 
Attraction and Kepllsion of Magnets. 


this bar, having no attractive or repulsive force of its own, can 
only obey the attractive action of the other, which is the only one 
that exerts a force. 

In Fig. 4 M is a magnet bent into the form of a U, commonly 
called a horseshoe magnet. The short bar set between the upper 
ends is also a magnet, and is arranged so as to revolve around the 
shaft s. From what has just been explained in connection with 
Figs. 1 and 2 it will be understood that, with the poles as indi- 
cated by the letters, there will be an attractive force set up be- 
tween the top end of the straight bar and the P end of the horse- 
shoe, and thus rotation will be produced in the direction of the 
arrow. The rotation, however, will necessarily stop when the bar 
reaches the position shown in Fig. 5, for then the attraction be- 
tween the poles will resist further movement. If the straight bar 
were not a magnet, but simply a piece of iron or steel, it is evident 
tliat when in the position of Fig. 4 the attraction would be just 

as much toward the right as 
toward the left, and if the 
bar were placed accurately in 
the central position it would 
not swing in either direction. 
It would be in the condition 
called, in mechanics, unstable 
equilibrium. In practice this 
condition could not be very 
w(dl realized, as it would be 
difficult to set and retain the 
l)ar in a position where the 
attraction from both sides would be the same, therefore the rota- 
tion would be in one direction or the other; but whichever way 
the bar might move, it would only swing through one quarter of 
a revolution, into the horizontal position of Fig. 5. 

If we reflect upon these actions we can see that if we could 
destroy the magnetism of both parts before the straight bar reaches 
the position of Fig. 5 it would be possible to obtain rotation through 
a greater distance than one quarter of a turn, for then the head- 
way acquired by the rotating part would cause it to continue its 
motion. If, after the completion of one half of a revolution, we 
could remagnetize both parts, we would then set iqi an attraction 
between the lower end of the straight bar and the loft side of the 
horseshoe, for then the polarity of the former would be the reverse 
of that shown in Fig. 4 — that is, the lower end would be negative. 
By means of this second attraction we would cause the bar to ro- 
tate through the third quarter of the revolution, and if, just before 

F.g. 4. 

Fig. 5. 

Figs 4,5. — Diagkajis ii.listrating the Method 

OF OBTAINING Rotary iMoTION with MA(iNET.-l. 


completing this last quarter, we were to remove all the magnetism 
again, the headway would keep up the motion through the final 
quarter of the revolution, thus completing one full turn. From 
this it will be realized that if we could magnetize and demagnetize 
the two parts twice in each revolution a continuous rotation could 
be obtained. 

If the magnetizing and demagnetizing action were only applied 
to the rotating part we would fail to keep up a continuous rota- 
tion, for, as was shown in connection with Fig. 3, the action when 
the straight bar reached the position of Fig. 5 would be the same 
as if it were magnetized, owing to the fact that a magnet always 
exerts an attraction upon a mass of iron. Suppose, however, that 
we were to reverse the polarity of the rotating part just as it 
reaches the position of Fig. 5, then there would be two poles of 
the same polarity opposite each other, and, as shown in Fig. 2, 
the force acting between them would be repulsive, and would push 
the bar around in the direction of rotation. I^ot only would the 
right-side pole of the horseshoe force the end of the bar away from 
it, but the negative pole, on the left side, would attract this same 
end, and thus a force would be exerted by the two poles of M to 
keep up the rotation through the next half of a circle. On reach- 
ing this last position the rotation would stop if the polarity of the 
revolving bar were left unchanged, for then the poles facing each 
other would be of opposite polarity. If, however, we again re- 
versed the polarity, a rej)ulsion would be set up between the poles 
facing each other, and thus a force would be exerted to continue 
the rotation. Thus we see that if the polarity of the horseshoe 
magnet is not disturbed it is necessary to reverse that of the rotat- 
ing part to obtain a continuous motion, but if we change the mag- 
netic conditions of both parts, then it is only necessary to magnetize 
and demagnetize them alternately. 

From the foregoing it is seen that there are two ways in which 
the force of magnetism could be utilized to keep up a continuous 
rotation, and the question now is, Can either of them be made 
available in practice? To this we answer that, by the aid of the 
relations existing between electricity and magnetism, both can be 
and are made available, as will be shown in the following para- 
graphs : 

In Fig. 6 W represents a coil of wire provided with a cotton 
covering, so that there may be no actual contact between the ad- 
joining convolutions. If the ends p n of this coil are connected 
with a source of electric energy, an electric current will flow 
through it, and if a bar, as indicated by N P, of iron or steel is 
placed within the coil it. will become magnetized. If the bar is 





. 7. Fig. 8. 

Figs. 6, 7, 8. — Diagrams ilhstratino the Phin 
ciri.Es OF Electko-Magnets. 

made of steel and is hardened it will retain the magnetism, and 
become what is called a permanent magnet; such a magnet, in fact, 
as we have considered in all the previous figures. If the bar is 
made of iron it will not retain the magnetism, but will only be a 

magnet as long as the elec- 
tric current flows through 
the coil W. A magnet of 
the latter type is called 
an electro-magnet. If the 
iron is of poor quality — 
that is, from an electrical 
standpoint — it will require 
an appreciable time to lose 
its magnetism, but if it is 
soft and high grade, elec- 
trically considered, it will 
lose its magnetism instantly, or nearly so. If we take two bars of 
soft iron and arrange them side by side, as in Fig. 7, and w^ind coils 
around them as indicated each one will become magnetized when 
the ends p n of the coils are connected with an electric circuit. If 
the lower ends of the two bars are joined by a piece, as shown at 
M, we will have a horseshoe electro-magnet. If we take a round 
disk of iron, as in Fig. 8, and wind a coil around it, it will also 
become a magnet when an electric current traverses the coil. Thus 
it will be seen that it makes little difference what the shape of the 
iron may be, providing it is surrounded by a coil of wire and an 
electric current is passed through the latter. This being the case, 
it is evident that either of the processes explained in connection 
with Figs. 4 and 5 can be made available for the production of a 
continuous rotation by the aid of electro-magnets. Suppose we 
make a drum, as shown in Fig. 9, and wind a wire coil around it in 
the direction indicated, then when a current passes through the 
wire the drum will be magnetized, with poles at top and bottom. 
If the electric current passes through the wire from end p to end n 
the drum will be magnetized positively at the top and negatively at 
the bottom, and if the direction of the current through the wire 
is reversed the polarity of the drum will be reversed. If we con- 
struct a horseshoe magnet of the slia])(^ shown in Fig. 10, and place 
within the circular opening between its ends the drum of Fig. 9, 
we will have a device that is capable of developing a continuous 
rotation, providing we have suitable means for reversing the direc- 
tion of the electric current through the wire coil; and this machine 
constitutes an electric motor in its simplest form. 

In an electric motor the horseshoe magnet is calh'd the field 



magnetj and tlie rotating part is called the armature, while the 
device by means of which the direction of the current through the 
armature coil is reversed is called the commutator. In this last fig- 
ure it will be noticed that the coils wound upon the field magnet are 
represented as of wire much finer than that wovmd upon the arma- 
ture. In actual practice machines are sometimes wound in this 
way, and sometimes the field wire is twice as large as that on the 
armature. When the field wire is very much finer than that of 
the armature the machine is what is known as shunt wound, which 
means that only a small portion of the current that passed through 
the armature passes through the field coils. Although with this 
type of winding the current that passes through the field coils is 
very weak, the magnetism developed thereby can be made greater 
than that of the armature if desired. This result is accomplished 
by increasing the number of turns of wire in the field coils. Thus 
if the current through the armature is one hundred times as strong 
as that through the field coils, the latter can be made to equal the 
effect of the former by increasing the number of turns in the pro- 
portion of one hundred to one, and if the increase is still greater 
the field coils will develop the strongest magnetism. The reason 
why a small current passing around a magnet a great many times 




n ,' - )\ 


( Q^ 1 

f ■ 

,■ ) 



\.-. /v 


Fig. 9. Fig. 10. 

FifiS. 9. 10. — Diagrams ilu'strating the Principles of the Electric Motor. 

will develop as strong a magnetization as a large current, can be 
readily understood when we say that the magnetism is in propor- 
tion to the total strength of the electric current that circulates 
around the magnet. Suppose we have two currents, one of which is 
one thousand times as strong as the other, then if the weak one is 
passed through a coil consisting of one thousand turns it will de- 
velop just as strong a magnetization as the large current passing 


through a coil of only one turn. This last explanation enables 
us to see how it is that the comparatively small current that can 
pass through the contact between the trolley wire and the trolley 
wheel can develop in the motor force sufficient to propel a heavy 
car up a steep grade. When that small current reaches the car 
motors it passes through a thousand or more turns of wire, and 
thus its effect is increased a corresponding munber of times. 

A motor having a single coil of wire upon the armature, as in 
Fig. 10, would not give very satisfactory results, owing to the fact 
that the rotative force developed by it would not be uniform. 
Such motors are made in very small sizes, but never when a ma- 
chine of any capacity is required. For large machines it is neces- 
sary to wind the armature with a number of coils, so that the 
rotating force may be uniform, and also so that the current may 
be reversed by the commutator without producing sparks so large 
as to destroy the device. When an armature is wound with a 
number of coils the direction of the current is reversed, by the 
commutator, in each coil as it reaches the point where its useful- 
ness ends, and where, if it continued to flow in the same direction, 
it would act to hold the armature back. The effect of this rever- 
sal of the current in one coil after another is to maintain the 
polarity of the armature practically at the same point, so that the 
strongest pull is exerted between it and the field magnet poles at 
all times. To explain clearly the way in which, the commutator 
reverses the current in one coil at a time it will be necessary to 
make use of a diagram illustrating what is called a ring armature. 
Such a diagram is shown in Fig. 11. The ring A is the armature 
core, and is made of iron; the wire coils are represented as consist- 
ing of one turn to each coil, and are marked www. The current 
enters the wire through the spring B, and passes out through C. 
As can be seen, the current from B can flow through the coils 
w IV in both directions, thus dividing into two currents, each one 
of which will traverse one half of the wire wound upon the arma- 
ture. The two half currents will meet at C. If the armature is 
rotated the springs B and C (which are called commutator brushes) 
will pass from one turn of the wire coil to another just back of it 
as the rotation progresses, and each time that contact is made with 
a new turn the direction of the current in the turn just ahead will 
be reversed. The current in the wire as a whole, however, will 
always be in the same direction — that- is, in all the turns to the 
right of the two brushes; the current will flow toward the center 
of the shaft on the front side of the armature, and away from the 
shaft in all the turns on the left side. As the direction of the cur- 
rent on opposite sides of the brushes is always the same, the poles 



of the armature will remain under B and C, therefore the relation 
between the position of the jDoles of the armature and the field 
magnet will be the same substantially as that illustrated in Fig. 10, 
and, as a result, the force tending to produce rotation will at all 
times be the greatest possible for the strength of the current used 
and the size of the magnets. 

Armatures are wound with a number of turns of wire in each 
coil, unless the machine is very large, and present an appearance 
more like Fig. 12. In this figure the brushes are arranged to make 
contact with the outer surface of the ring C, which is the commu- 
tator. The segments s s are connected with the ends of the arma- 
ture coils c c c, but are separated from each other by some kind 
of material that will not conduct electricity — that is, they are elec- 
trically insulated. As will be noticed from this, the armature 

Fig. 1-2. 

Figs. 11, 12. — Diagrams illustrating the Method of winding Armatures of Electric 
Motors and Generators. 

in Fig. 11 acts as a commutator as well as an armature, its 
outer surface performing the former office. In the winding the 
difference between Figs. 11 and 12 is simply in the number of 
turns in each coil, there being one turn in Fig. 11 and several 
in Fig. 12. 

The armature shoAvn in Fig. 1 is of the type called drum arma- 
ture, but it can be wound so as to produce the same result as the 
ring, although it is not so easy to explain this style of winding. It 
will be sufficient for the present explanation to say that whatever 
t^^ie of armature may be used, the winding is always such that the 
direction of the current through the wire coils is reversed pro- 
gressively, so that the magnetic polarity is maintained practically 
at the same point; therefore there is a continuous pull between 
this point of the armature core -and the poles of the field magnet. 
The commutator is secured to the armature shaft, and the brushes 


through which the current enters and leaves are held stationary; 
keeping this fact in mind, it can be seen at once that in Fig. 12 the 
current will flow from the brush a through the two sides of the ar- 
mature wire to brush h, hence all the coils on the right of the ver- 
tical line will be traversed by the current in the same direction — 
that is, either to or from the center of the shaft — and in the coils 
on the left the direction will be opposite, which is just the same 
order as was explained in connection with Fig. 11. 

An electric motor can be turned into an electric generator by 
simply reversing the direction in which the armature rotates — 
that is, any electric machine is either a generator or a motor. This 
fact can be illustrated by means of Figs. 13 and 14, both of which 
show the armature and the poles of the field magnet. The first 
figure represents an electric motor, and, as can be seen, the pull 
between the N pole of the armature and the P pole of the field is 
in the direction of arrow &, hence the armature will rotate in 
the same direction, as indicated by arrow a. To obtain the 
polarity of the armature and field it is necessary to pass an elec- 
tric current through both — that is to say, we must expend elec- 
trical energy to obtain power from the machine. As soon as the 
current ceases to flow, the polarity of the armature and field dies 
out, and the rotation of the former comes to an end. The mag- 
netism, however, does not die out entirely; a small residue is al- 
ways left, although it is never sufiicient to produce rotation, and 
even if it were it could only cause the armature to revolve through 
one quarter of a turn. If, after the current has been shut off, 
the armature shaft is rotated in the reverse direction, as indicated 
by arrow a in Fig. 14, the motion will be against the pull of the 
magnetism; therefore, although the poles may be very weak, an 
amount of power sufiicient to overcome their attraction must be 
applied to the pulley, otherwise rotation can not be accomplished. 

In consequence of the back- 
ward rotation a current is 
generated in the armature 
coils, and this current, as it 
traverses the field coils as 
well as those of the armature, 

Figs 13, 14.— Diagrams illustratino the Dif- CaUSeS the polarity of both 

A (lENEKATOK. , , . 1 1 • 

of the increased polarity the 
resistance to rotation is increased, and more power has to be applied 
to the pulley. The increase in the strength of the poles results in 
increasing the current generated, and this in turn further increases 
the pole strength, so that one effect helps the other, the result being 



that the current, which starts with an infinitesimal strength, soon 
rises to the maximum capacity of the machine. 

The motor shown in Eig. 10 does not in any way resemble an 
electric railway motor, nevertheless the principle of action is pre- 
cisely the same in both. The design of a machine of any kind has 
to conform to the practical requirements, and this is true of rail- 
way motors, just as it is true of printing presses, sawmills, or any 
other mechanism. A railway motor must be designed to run at 

Fig. 15. — External View of Electric Railway Motor mounted upon Car-Wheel Axle. 

a comparatively slow speed and to develop a strong rotative force, 
or torque, as it is technically called. It must also be so constructed 
that it will not be injured if covered with mud and water. It must 
be compact, strong, and light, and capable of withstanding a severe 
strain without giving out. To render the machine water- and mud- 
proof it is formed with an outer iron shell, which entirely incases 
the internal parts. The first railway motors were not inclosed, 
and the result was that they frequently came to grief from the 
effects of a shower of mud. When the modern inclosed type of 
motor, which is called the iron-clad type, first made its appearance 
it was frequently spoken of as the clam-shell type, and the name 
is not altogether inappropriate, for while the outside may be cov- 
ered with mud to such an extent as to entirely obliterate the de- 
sign, the interior will remain perfectly clean and dry, and there- 
fore its effectiveness will not be impaired. 

To enable the motor to give a strong torque and run at a slow 
speed the number of poles in the field and armature is increased. 
The design of Fig. 10 has two poles in the field and two in the 
armature, and is what is known as the bipolar type. Machines 
having more than two poles in each part are called multipolar 
machines. The number of poles can be increased by pairs, but 
not by a single pole — that is, we can have four, six, eight, or 
any other even number of poles', but not five, seven, or any odd 
number. This is owing to the fact that there must always be 



as many positive as negative poles, no more and no less. Rail- 
way motors at tlie present time are made with four poles. The 
external appearance can be understood from Fig. 15, while Fig. 
16 and Fig. 17 will serve to elucidate the internal construction. 
In Fig. 15 the motor casing is marked M, and, as will be seen, 
it forms a complete shell. The motion of the armature shaft is 
transmitted to the car-wheel axle F through a pinion, which en- 
gages with a spur gear secured to the latter. In Fig. 16 the pinion 
and gear are marked N and L respectively. As it is necessary 
that the armature shaft and the axle be kept in perfect alignment, 
the motor casing M is provided with suitable bearings for both, 
those for the armature shaft being marked P P in Fig. 16, and one 
of those for the axle being marked T in Fig. 15. It will be under- 
stood from the foregoing that the motor is mounted so as to swing 
around the car-wheel axle as a center, but, as it is not desirable to 
have all this dead weight resting upon the wheels Avithout any elas- 
ticity, the motor is carried by the crossbars B B, Fig, 15, which rest 
upon springs s s at each end. The beam A and a similar one at 
the farther end of the B B bars extend out to the sides of the car 
truck and are suitably secured to the latter. The coils w w are the 
ends of the field coils and the armature connections, and to these 

Fig. 16. — Eailw.vv ^loroii with Casing Open, .'showing Akmati're in Lower Half. 

the wires conveying the current from the trolley are connected. 
The cover C on top of the motor at one end closes an opening 
through which access to the commutator brushes is obtained. The 
arnuitiii-o is shown at // in Fig. 10 ;iii<1 llic commutator at K in 
the same figure. Directly under the aniiatui'c may be seen one 
of the field magnet coils, it being marked B. 

As will be noticed in Fig. 1 0, the motor casing is made so as to 
open along the central lino, and tlic lowci- lialf is secured to the 



17. — Armature of Electuic Railway Motor. 

top by means of hinges, g g, Fig. 15, and also by a number of bolts, 
which are not so clearly shown. The gear wheels are also located 
within a casing, which (Fig. 16) is made so as to be readily opened 
whenever it becomes necessary. All the vital parts of the ma- 
chine are entirely covered, and are not easily injured by mud or 

The construction of the armature and commutator is well illus- 
trated in Fig. 17, which shows this part of the machine by itself. 
The armature is marked A, the shaft B, and the commutator 
C. In the diagrams, 
Figs. 9, 10, 11, and 
12, the wire coils 
are represented as 
wound upon the sur- 
face of the armature 
core, but, from Fig. 
17, it will be noticed 
that they are located 
in grooves. A rail- 
way motor armature core, when seen without the wire coils, looks 
very much like a wide-faced cog wheel with extra long teeth, 
not very well shaped for gear teeth. In Fig. 17 the ends of the 
teeth are marked D, and the grooves within which the wire is 
wound are marked E. The coils are not wound so that their sides 
are on diametrically opposite sides of the armature core, but so 
that they may be one quarter of the circumference apart, and, as 
will be noticed, the wires are arranged so as to fit neatly into 
each other at the ends of the armature core. The bands marked 
F F F F are provided for the purpose of holding the wire coils 
within the grooves. The flanges H and I are simply shields to 
prevent oil, grease, or even water, if it should pass through the 
bearings, from being thrown upon the commutator or armature. 
The pinion through which the armature imparts motion to the car- 
wheel axle is not shown in Fig. 17, but it is mounted upon the taper 
end of the shaft. 

An electric railway motor is a machine that is characterized by 
extreme simplicity (there being only one moving part), compactness, 
and great strength. In addition, as none of the working parts is ex- 
posed it can not be injured, no matter how much mud may accumu- 
late upon it. One of the reasons why the electric railway motor has 
met with such unparalleled success is that it is a machine that can 
withstand the roughest kind of usage without being damaged there- 
by. Another reason is that an electric motor can, if called upon, 
develop an amount of power two or three times greater than its 


full-rated capacity without injury, providing the strain is not main- 
tained too long. A steam engine or any other type of motor that 
has ever been used for railway propulsion if loaded beyond its 
capacity will come to a standstill — that is, it will be stalled — but 
an electric motor can not be stalled with any strain that is likely 
to be placed upon it. If the load is increased the motor will run 
slower and the current will become greater, thus increasing the 
pull, but the armature will continue to rotate until the current 
becomes so great as to burn out the insulation. A railway motor 
calculated to work up to twenty-five-horse power will have to de- 
velop on an average about six- or seven-horse power, but if the 
car runs off the track on a steep grade, and has such a heavy load 
that the motor is called upon to develop one-hundred-horse power 
for a few seconds, the machine will be equal to the occasion. This 
result a steam, gas, or any other type of engine can not accomplish, 
and it is this fact as much as anything else that has given the elec- 
tric motor the control of the street-railway field. 

\^To be condnued.l 




IT is during the latter part of the present century that a general 
movement has arisen to give women their rights in business 
life and in political and social affairs. It is the intention of this 
article to treat of this movement, especially in its relation to edu- 
cation, in Germany, where, of all civilized lands, it has had appar- 
ently the smallest results. Progress in the direction indicated 
has been, however, far greater than appears on the surface, and 
the movement is slowly taking shape in a form that will gain offi- 
cial recognition and support, and the way is being prepared for 
scholarly attainments among the women of Germany, superior, 
possibly, to those of the women of other nations. 

There is, moreover, an ideal side to this movement in Germany 
not altogether found in other lands. The motive for advanced 
study is more largely joy in the study itself, and desire to supply 
the spiritual needs of an idle life. In order to understand this 
ideal tendency it is necessary to cast a glance backward over nearly 
three hundred years. 

Let us begin with the contest which was waged so successfully 
for the development and protection of the German language, first 


against tlie Latin and later against the Frencli. In tliis struggle 
women took a prominent part, especially through membership in 
the society called the " Order of the Palms," which, before the 
beginning of the Thirty Years' War, united the strongest spirits 
of Germany for this purpose. The first woman to join this soci- 
ety was Sophie Elizabeth, Princess of Mecklenburg, married in 
1636 to the Herzog of Braunschweig. She was followed by many 
others, both of the nobility and the common people, and was named 
by virtue of this leadership " The Deliverer." 

In the eighteenth century we have the founder of the German 
theater, Caroline iSTeuber. In the artistic sense she was the first 
director of the German stage, the first to turn the attention of the 
greatest actors of her day to the ideal side of dramatic presenta- 
tion. Early in the eighteenth century women began to take up 
university studies. A certain Frau von Zingler received a prize 
from the University of "Wittenberg for literary work, and the wife 
of Professor Gottscheds entered upon a contest for a prize in poetry 
with her husband. 

We find some old verses published in Leipsic, in a book of stu- 
dents' songs, in 1736, recognizing the fact that women attended 
lectures in the university there, although the reference is rather 
sarcastic, speaking of " beauty coming to listen in the halls of 

In 1754 the first woman received her degree of Doctor of Medi- 
cine in Ilalle — Dorothea Christine Erxleben, nee Leborin, a 
daughter of a physician, who attained to this result only after 
many years of painstaking effort. With her father's help she 
studied the classics and medicine, and gradually, in spite of the 
objections of his brother physicians, began to practice as a doctor 
imder her father's protection. She is said to have cured her pa- 
tients cito tuto, jucunde, and in 1742 she published a book on the 
right of women to study, the title of which, according to the cus- 
tom of the day, included the full table of contents. This book 
passed through two editions, and enabled her to gain the attention 
of Frederick II, who was persuaded to order the University of 
Ilalle to grant her the privilege of taking her examination there. 
The day arrived, and the hall was crowded for the occasion; the 
candidate passed the ordeal in a brilliant manner, and took the 
oath for the doctor's degree amid a storm of applause from the 
listeners present. 

In the present century the germ of the movement for educa- 
tional rights for women came into consciousness in Germany in 
the stormy year 1848, and first found expression and life through 
the work of two women — Louise Otto Peters and Auguste Schmidt. 

VOL. LVI. 26 


The former founded tlie Universal Association for Women in Ger- 
many, and through this society both these women worked for thirty 
years and did much toward preparing the way for the broader 
efforts of the present time. 

It is a fact granted by all the educational world that scholar- 
ship attains a depth and thoroughness in Germany not found in 
other lands, and this very perfection has been in part the cause of 
the backwardness of the educational movement among the women, 
for a high degree of scholarship has often been acquired by the men 
at the expense of the devoted service of the women connected with 
them. Yet when the women of Germany demand their educational 
rights it will be to share also in the rich intellectual inheritance 
of their land. 

The majority of the men thus far regard the movement with 
distrust and suspicion, but are powerless to crush it out. An amus- 
ing instance occurred last year in the family of an official in one 
of the large university towns. He was a conservative man who 
had his immediate family in a proper state of subjection, but his 
mother-in-law, alas! he could not control, and to his dismay she 
enrolled herself at the university as a Bospitant, and, in spite of 
the protestations of her son-in-law, she was a regular attendant 
upon the courses of lectures that she had elected. 

The regular schools for girls in Germany, above the common 
schools attended by girls and boys together, are of two grades — 
the middle schools and the high schools. The avowed object of 
these schools is to fit girls for society and for the position of 
housewife, as Ilerr Dr. Bosse, the Minister of Public Instruction 
for the German Empire, states in his report on the condition 
of girls' schools in Germany, and as he publicly declared before 
the German Parliament in the discussion regarding the establish- 
ment of a girls' gjannasium in Brcslau, referred to later on in 
this paper. 

''Jlie girls' schools established by the Government provide well 
for the study of the modern languages, and it is the exception to 
find women in the upper classes who do not speak French and Eng- 
lish. Literature, religion, gymnastics, and needlework are also 
well taught. The course of study in the high school includes a 
little mathematics, offered under the name of reckoning, and suffi- 
cient to enable a woman to keep the accounts of a household, and 
also a little science of the kind that can be learned without a knowl- 
edge of mathematics. Let me quote a paragraph from the report 
of the ]\Iinister of Public Instruction for the year 1898 in regard 
to the aim of the mathematical course in the girls' high schools: 
" Accuracv in reckoning with numbers and the ability to use num- 


bers in the common relations of life, especially in housekeeping. 
Great weight is laid upon quick mental computations, but in all 
grades the choice of problems should be such as especially apply 
to the keeping of a house." This is the opportunity which is 
offered to girls by the Government in the department of mathe- 
matics ! In addition to the two grades of schools mentioned there 
are seminaries in many of the large cities for the purpose of edu- 
cating women teachers. The instructors in these seminaries are 
well prepared for their positions, are mostly men, and the instruc- 
tion given is very superior to that given in the girls' high schools. 
Latin and Greek are, however, not studied in these seminaries, and 
mathematics and science are expurgated, we might say, of points 
that might prove difficult for the feminine intellect. 

The ability to learn Latin and Greek seems in the German mind 
to especially mark the dividing line between the masculine and 
feminine brain. The writer was at one time studying a subject 
in Greek philosophy, in the City Library of Munich, requiring the 
use of a number of Greek and Latin books, and it was amusing to 
notice the astonishment of the men present that a woman should 
know the classic languages! 

The women who hold certificates from the seminaries are al- 
lowed, according to a new law passed in 1894, to continue their 
studies and to take the higher teachers' examinations. This is 
considered a great step in advance, for a woman who has success- 
fully passed this latter examination can hold any position in the 
girls' schools, and can even be director of such a school. 

That German women have long been discontented with the 
education provided for them by the Government is proved by the 
fact that the number of higher institutions offering private oppor- 
tunities to girls is constantly increasing. As far back as 1868 the 
Victoria Lyceum was founded by a Scotch woman — Miss Georgina 
Archer — at her own expense and on her own responsibility, and 
this institution was well sustained from the beginning. It is now 
under the patronage of the Empress Frederick, and offers courses 
to women that run parallel to a certain extent with those given 
on the same subjects in the university. Professors from the uni- 
versity lecture in the Victoria Lyceum, but a young woman who 
had listened to the same professor in both places informed me that 
he (perhaps unconsciously) simplified his lectures very much for 
the Victoria Lyceum. Fraulein Anna von Cotta is the director 
of the institution. Among the women who teach there we note 
the name of the well-known Fraulein Lange, who lectures on psy- 
chology and German literature. 

There are several girls' gymnasia in Germany which testify to 


tlie demand for higher education. These institutions are all but 
one private, and three of them — one in Leipsic, one in Berlin, and 
a third, opened in October, 1898, in Konigsberg — are called "gym- 
nasial courses," and are for girls who have finished the girls' high 
school, and who must pass entrance examinations in order to be 
received into them. 

There has been for some time a girls' gymnasium which corre- 
sponds exactly to those for boys in Carlsruhe, under the auspices 
of the " Society for Reform in the Education of Women," which 
receives girls of twelve who must have finished the six lower 
classes of a girls' school. This society, to which the girls of Ger- 
many owe much, is planning to open another gymnasium in Han- 
nover, to which girls will be received from the junior class of the 
girls' high school; the course of study will occupy five years, and 
will fit girls for the same official examinations as the boys' gymnasia. 
The language courses in the highest class will be elective, provid- 
ing either for Greek or the modern languages, but Latin is oblig- 
atory in all the classes. The girls from all these g^nnnasia are 
debarred from taking any of the official examinations for which 
their studies have prepared them. 

The next step in the matter of gymnasial education for girls 
was what might have been expected. The people of the wide- 
awake city of Breslau voted, by an overwhelming majority, to 
establish a girls' gymnasium under the same laws and furnishing the 
same advantages as the boys' g;^Tnnasia. The completed plan 
was sent to the Minister of Public Instruction in Berlin in Janu- 
ary, 1898, for approval, w^th the intention of opening the gymna- 
sium at Easter, for which twenty-six girls were already enrolled. 
Herr Dr. Bosse, however, foreseeing the results such an undertak- 
ing would involve, consulted the other departments of the minis- 
try, and two months later a decided refusal came like a thunder- 
bolt upon the people of Breslau. On the 30th of April, 1898, 
Herr Dr. Bosse was called to account in the Reichstag for his action 
in the matter, which he justified on the ground that Government 
approval of girls' gymnasia would mean the acceptance of the 
diploma for matriculation in the universities and the opening to 
women of all Government professional examinations, and that to 
have granted it would have been to take a step in the direction 
of the modern movement for women which could never have been 
recalled, and would open the lecture rooms of Germany in gen- 
eral to women. He contended, further, that the founding of offi- 
cial gymnasia for girls would delegate the existing girls' high 
school to a secondary place, an institution which had been planned 
thoughtfully by the Government for the purpose of educating 


women in the best manner, not to become rivals of men, but help- 
meets and able housekeepers. 

The demand of the people of Breslau, Dr. Bosse said, was an 
unnatural one, and his refusal was founded on the fear that such 
a movement would increase and threaten the social foundations 
of all Germany, as the idea that women can compete with men in 
all careers is a false one. 

The petition of the magistrate of Breslau was supported in the 
discussion by some of the national-liberal, free-conservative, and 
Polish representatives. These took the broad ground that girls 
have a right to equal education with boys, and that the educational 
institutions of Germany which have so long stood at the head of 
those of the world should not, in the matter of education of women, 
leave the question to be decided according to the whims of private 

Some of the arguments of those who spoke in favor of the 
enterprise were amusing. One said that the girls of Germany 
would be grateful if the Minister of Public Instruction would fur- 
nish them with husbands, but, as there were not enough to go 
around, the others should have some career provided for them. 
Another, that about forty per cent of the girls of the higher classes 
no longer marry, and they should not be allowed to suffer the con- 
sequences of the fact that young men of the present day do not 
care to marry, but they have a right that the way be shown them 
to such careers as are suited to their feminine nature. 

An objector said that he could not understand how any man 
of pedagogical culture could approve of a girls' gymnasium, for it 
is evident that any such progress for women as that would imply 
must be at the expense of the men, who would gaia less on account 
of the increased number of candidates for work of all kinds and 
would more seldom be able to offer the best of all existences to a 
woman — that of wifehood. The city of Breslau was obliged, there- 
fore, to give up the undertaking for the present, but the agitation 
of the question has probably prepared the way for more extended 
plans in the future in the same direction in Prussia. 

A similar undertaking in Carlsruhe, in Baden, has met with 
better success, and resulted in the opening of the first official gym- 
nasium for girls in Germany, in September, 1898. This gymna- 
sium was planned about the same time as that of Breslau, and as 
the pei-mission of the Minister of Public Instruction in Baden was 
obtained without difficulty, the institution came into existence ac- 
cording to the will of the people of Carlsruhe. Seventy-nine of 
the members of the Biirgerauschuss voted in favor of the under- 
taking in the meeting in which the final action was taken early 


in the summer of 1898. The Christian-conservative party only 
decidedly opposed it. The leader of this party was very much 
excited over the matter, and called out, when the action was taken, 
" I ask you, gentlemen, on your honor, if any of you would marry 
a girl from a gymnasium? " 

The opening of the Government gymnasium will remove the 
necessity for continuing the private one in Carlsruhe, under the 
society in charge of it, and leave that society free to direct its 
efforts elsewhere. 

There had already been several references to the general sub- 
ject of the education of women in the Reichstag before the ques- 
tion of the gymnasium in Breslau came up. In January, 1898, 
Prince Carolath spoke in favor of founding several girls' gymnasia, 
and admitting women legally to the universities and to pedagogical 
and to medical state professional examinations, remarking that in 
all other civilized lands the universities are more open to women 
than in Germany. 

Coming now to the present attitude of the universities to the 
higher education of women, we find that a great change has taken 
place during the last few years. While it is still the fact that 
no German woman can matriculate in any university in Germany, 
yet the problem of the stand which the universities should take 
is working out its own solution in the right direction. 

The University of Berlin, the largest and in many respects the 
leading one, has made progress in the matter, although women still 
work there under great limitations. The cause was injured at 
the outset in Berlin by the fact that women, often foreigners, who 
had not the required preparation, rushed into lecture rooms which 
were open to them from motives of curiosity. This caused such 
strong feeling among the professors that in one instance a pro- 
fessor, on entering his classroom, saw a lady sitting in the rear, 
walked up to her, offered her his arm, and led her out of the room. 

The first step in the right direction has been to demand either 
a diploma from some well-known institution, or, as tliat could 
not be complied with by German women, the certificate of the 
teachers' examinations. The possessors of such credentials may 
attend lectures in any course, where the professor is willing, as 
Ilospitants. The conditions under which women may attend the 
University of Berlin arc the following: 

1. A written permission must be obtained from the curator of 
the university on presentation of a satisfactory diploma, a pass- 
port, and, by Russian applicants, a written permission from the 
police authorities to study in Germany. 

2. AVritten permission from the rector. 


3. "Written permission from the professors or docents whose 
lectures the applicant wishes to attend. 

4. The permission from the rector must be obtained each se- 
mester, but from the curator only when a new subject is chosen. 

5. The same fee is demanded from women as from men, and 
women are requested to always carry with them, in attending lec- 
tures, the wiitten permission from the rector. 

At the public installation of Rector Waldeyer, in October, 
1898, both in his address and in that of the resigning rector, Ge- 
heimrath Professor Schmoller, the subject of education of women 
received attention. 

Geheimrath Schmoller said that the first condition of further 
concessions in the matter must be better preparation on the part 
of the women, and when this deficiency should be provided for the 
faculty of the university could make the conditions of their attend- 
ing lectures lighter, perhaps even the same as those for men. Ge- 
heimrath Waldeyer made the subject one of three to which he 
gave equal space, and which he said called for immediate atten- 
tion in the educational affairs of Germany. The other two sub- 
jects were the relation of technical schools to the universities, and 
university extension. Geheimrath AValdeyer said that he had for- 
merly been opposed to the higher education of women, but had 
been led to change his mind from seeing that the movement is not 
an artificial one, but rather the natural result of the present social 
condition of society, and on the simple ground of right should be 
forwarded in a legitimate manner. He spoke strongly, however, 
in favor of the establishment of separate universities for men and 
women, on account of the natural differences in the working of 
their minds and the necessity of adapting methods in both instances 
to their needs. 

The number of women in the University of Berlin has increased 
very rapidly, being in the autumn of 1896 thirty-nine, in the win- 
ter of the same year ninety-five. The next year the largest nimi- 
ber was nearly two hundred, and in 1897-'98 three hundred and 
fifty-two were in all inscribed. jSTearly half of these were German 
women. Most of the women in the University of Berlin are in 
the department of philosophy, but several are pursuing courses in 
theology and law. These women are of all ages. One from Char- 
lottenburg was sixty-two years old, and, besides this honored lady, 
there were five others whose white hair testified to an age of from 
fifty to fifty-five, while the youngest of all was a Bulgarian girl 
of seventeen. 

The first woman to take her. degree in the University of Berlin 
was Dr. Else Xeumanu, in December, 1898, in physics and mathe- 


matics, who succeededj notwitlistanding tlie difBculties to be con- 
tended with in the absence of preparatory study and the necessity 
for private preparation. 

It is not, however, only in Berlin that the desire for university 
study has taken a strong hold on the German women, but it is 
shown in other places, not simply by the fact that many of them 
attend the universities of Switzerland, which are everywhere open 
to them, but by their also obtaining the advantages in their own 
land which have so long been denied them. 

Heidelberg was the first university in Germany to grant the 
doctor examination to women, and this was done several years 
before lectures were open to them. The writer called upon Prof. 
Kuno Fischer one day in the summer of 1890 to ask permission to 
attend a lecture which he was to give that afternoon on Helm- 
holtz. He said that he was very sorry indeed, but he was obliged 
to refuse women the privilege of listening to him, as they were not 
admitted to the university. I asked when they would probably 
be admitted, and he replied, speaking in French, " Jamais, made- 
moiselle, jamais ! " Four years later, however, a friend of mine 
took her degree there in the department of philosophy, thus prov- 
ing that the wisest of men sometimes make mistakes. 

Women have for years studied as Hospitanis in the Universi- 
ties of Leipsic and Gottiugen, but since November, 1897, the con- 
ditions of their admission in Gottingen have been made more 

In Kiel the professors who are not willing to allow women to 
attend their lectures put a star opposite their names in the uni- 
versity programme of the lecture courses, and this star is unfor- 
tunately seen opposite the names of all the professors of theology 
and many of those of medicine. Women began to attend the Uni- 
versity of Tubingen in the autumn of 1898, Dr. Maria Griifin von 
Linden being the first, who was soon followed by many others. 

The degree of Doctor of Philosophy honoris causa has been 
conferred on two women by the University of Munich — in Dccemr 
ber, 1897, on the Princess Theresa, and in October, 1898, on Lady 
Blennerhassett, an author, for her researches in modern languages. 
The Dean of the Philosophical Faculty, accompanied by three pro- 
fessors, visited her in her home in Munich to communicate to her 
the honor which she had received. 

The University of Breslau offers better conditions to women 
than are provided elsewhere, as might naturally be exj)ected, espe- 
cially in the department of medicine. 

Germany was represented in the International Council of 
Women, held in London in June of this present year, by Frau 


Anna Simson, Frau Bieber Boehm, and Frau Marie Stritt, of 

It was also decided at this congress that the next Quinquen- 
nial International Council of Women should be held in Berlin, 
and it will without doubt be an occasion that will mark an era in 
the history of the progress of liberty for the women of Germany. 



ALTHOUGH amateurs have played a conspicuous part in tele- 
-^-^ scopic discovery among the heavenly bodies, yet every owner 
of a small telescope should not expect to attach his name to a star. 
But he certainly can do something perhaps more useful to himself 
and his friends. He can follow the discoveries that others, with 
better appliances and opportunities, have made, and can thus im- 
part to those discoveries that sense of reality which only comes 
from seeing things with one's own eyes. There are hundreds of 
things continually referred to in books and writings on astronomy 
which have but a misty and uncertain significance for the mere 
reader, but which he can easily verify for himself with the aid of 
a telescope of four or five inches' aperture, and which, when ac- 
tually confronted by the senses, assume a meaning, a beauty, and 
an importance that would otherwise entirely have escaped him. 
Henceforth every allusion to the objects he has seen is eloquent 
with intelligence and suggestion. 

Take, for instance, the planets that have been the subject of 
so many observations and speculations of late years — Mars, Jupi- 
ter, Saturn, Venus. For the ordinary reader much that is said 
about them makes very little impression upon his mind, and is 
almost unintelligible. He reads of the " snow patches " on Mars, 
but unless he has actually seen the whitened poles of that planet 
he can form no clear image in his mind of what is meant. So the 
^' belts of Jupiter " is a confusing and misleading phrase for almost 
everybody except the astronomer, and the rings of Saturn are be- 
yond comprehension unless they have actually been seen. 

It is true that pictures and photographs partially supply the 
place of observation, but by no means so successfully as many 
imagine. The most realistic drawings and the sharpest photo- 
graphs in astronomy are those of the moon, yet I think nobody 
would maintain that any picture in existence is capable of impart- 
ing a really satisfactory visual impression of the appearance of the 

VOL. LVI. 27 



lunar globe. Nobody who has not seen the moon with a telescope 
— it need not be a large one — can form a correct and definite idea 
of what the moon is like. 

The satisfaction of viewing with one's own eyes some of the 
things the astronomers write and talk about is very great, and the 
illumination that comes from such viewing is equally great. Just 
as in foreign travel the actual seeing of a famous city, a great gal- 
lery filled with masterpieces, or a battlefield where decisive issues 
have been fought out illuminates, for the traveler's mind, the 
events of history, the criticisms of artists, and the occurrences of 
contemporary life in foreign lands, so an acquaintance with the 

sights of the heavens gives a 
grasp on astronomical prob- 
lems that can not be ac- 
([uired in any other way. 
The person who has been in 
Rome, though he may be no 
archseologist, gets a far more 
xivid conception of a new 
iliscovery in the Forum than 
does the reader who has 
never seen the city of the 
Seven Hills; and the ama- 
teur who has looked at Jupi-" 
ter with a telescope, though 
he may be no astronomer, 
finds that the announcement 
of some change among the 
wonderful belts of that cloudy planet has for him a meaning and 
an interest in which the ordinary reader can not share. 

Jupiter is perhaps the easiest of all the planets for the amateur 
observer. A three-inch telescope gives beautiful views of the 
great planet, although a four-inch or a five-inch is of course better. 
But there is no necessity for going beyond six inches' aperture in 
any case. For myself, I think I should care for nothing better 
than my five-inch of fifty-two inches' focal distance. "With such 
a glass more details are visible in the dark belts and along the 
bright equatorial girdle than can be correctly represented in a 
sketch before the rotation of the planet has altered their aspect, 
while the shadows of the satellites thrown upon the broad disk, 
and the satellites themselves when in transit, can be seen some- 
times with exquisite clearness. The contrasting colors of various 
parts of the disk are also easily studied with a glass of four or fivc^ 
inches' aperture. 

Jupiter seen with a Five-Inch Telescope. 
Shadow ot a satellite visible. 


There is a charm about the great planet when he rides high in 
a clear evening sky, lording it over the fixed stars with his serene, 
unflickering luminousness, which no possessor of a telescope can 
resist. You turn the glass upon him and he floats into the field 
of view, with his cortege of satellites, like a yellow-and-red moon, 
attended by four miniatures of itself. You instantly comjjrehend 
Jupiter's mastery over his satellites — their allegiance is evident. 
JSTo one would for an instant mistake them for stars accidentally 
seen in the same field of view. Although it requires a very large 
telescope to magnify their disks to measurable dimensions, yet the 
smallest glass differentiates them at once from the fixed stars. 
There is something almost startling in- their appearance of com- 
panionship with the huge planet — this sudden verification to your 
eyes of the laws of gravitation and of central forces. It is easy, 
while looking at Jupiter amid his family, to understand the con- 
sternation of the churchmen when Galileo's telescope revealed that 
miniature of the solar system, and it is gratifying to gaze upon one 
of the first battle grounds whereon science gained a decisive vic- 
tory for truth. 

The swift changing of place among the satellites, as well as the 
rapidity of Jupiter's axial rotation, give the attraction of visible 
movement to the Jovian spectacle. The planet rotates in four 
or five minutes less than ten hours — in other words, it makes two 
turns and four tenths of a third turn while the earth is turning 
once upon its axis. A point on Jupiter's equator moves about 
twenty-seven thousand miles, or considerably more than the en- 
tire circumference of the earth, in a single hour. The effect of 
this motion is clearly perceptible to the observer with a telescope 
on account of the diversified markings and colors of the moving 
disk, and to watch it is one of the greatest pleasures that the tele- 
scope affords. 

It would be possible, when the planet is favorably situated, to 
witness an entire rotation of Jupiter in the course of one night, 
but the beginning and end of the observation would be more or 
less interfered with by the effects of low altitude, to say nothing 
of the tedium of so long a vigil. But by looking at the planet 
for an hour at a time in the course of a few nights every side of 
it will have been presented to view. Suppose the first observation 
is made between nine and ten o'clock on any night which may have 
been selected. Then on the following night between ten and 
eleven o'clock Jupiter will have made two and a half turns 
upon his axis, and the side diametrically opposite to that seen 
on the first night will be visible. On the third night between 
eleven and twelve o'clock Jupiter will have performed five com- 



plete rotations, and the side originally viewed will be visible 

Owing to the rotundity of the planet, only the central part of 
the disk is sharply defined, and markings which can be easily seen 
when centrally located become indistinct or disappear altogether 

Eclipses anu Tkansits of Jupitek's Satellites. Satellite I and the shadow of III arc 
seen in transit. IV is about to be eclipsed. 

when near the limb. Approach to the edge of the disk also causes 
a foreshortening which sometimes entirely alters the aspect of a 
marking. It is advisable, therefore, to confine the attention main- 
ly to the middle of the disk. As time passes, clearly defined mark- 
ings on or between the cloudy belts will be seen to approach the 


western edge of the disk, gradually losing their distinctness and 
altering their appearance, while from the region of indistinct defi- 
nition near the eastern edge other markings slowly emerge and 
advance toward the center, becoming sharper in outline and more 
clearly defined in color as they swing into view. 

Watching these changes, the observer is carried away by the 
reflection that he actually sees the turning of another distant world 
upon its axis of rotation, just as he might view the revolving earth 
from a standpoint on the moon. Belts of reddish clouds, many 
thousands of miles across, are stretched along on each side of the 
equator of the great planet he is watching; the equatorial belt 
itself, brilliantly lemon-hued, or sometimes ruddy, is diversified 
with white globular and balloon-shaped masses, which almost re- 
call the appearance of summer cloud domes hanging over a terres- 
trial landscape, while toward the poles shadowy expanses of grad- 
ually deepening blue or blue-gray suggest the comparative cool- 
ness of those regions which lie always under a low sun. 

After a few nights' observation even the veriest amateur finds 
himself recognizing certain shapes or appearances — a narrow dark 
belt running slopingly across the equator from one of the main 
cloud zones to the other, or a rift in one of the colored bands, or 
a rotund white mass apparently floating above the equator, or a 
broad scallop in the edge of a belt like that near the site of the 
celebrated " red spot," whose changes of color and aspect since its 
first appearance in 1878, together with the light it has thrown on 
the constitution of Jupiter's disk, have all but created a new Jovian 
literature, so thoroughly and so frequently have they been dis- 

And, having noticed these recurring features, the observer will 
begin to note their relations to one another, and will thus be led 
to observe that some of them gradually drift apart, while others 
drift nearer; and after a time, without any aid from books or 
hints from observatories, he will discover for himself that there is a 
law governing the movements on Jupiter's disk. Upon the whole 
he will find that the swiftest motions are near the equator, and 
the slowest near the poles, although, if he is persistent and has a 
good eye and a good instrument, he will note exceptions to this 
rule, probably arising, as Professor Hough suggests, from differ- 
ences of altitude in Jupiter's atmosphere. Finally, he will conclude 
that the colossal globe before him is, exteriorly at least, a vast 
ball of clouds and vapors, subject to tremendous vicissitudes, pos- 
sibly intensely heated, and altogether different in its physical con- 
stitution, although made up of similar elements, from the earth. 
Then, if he chooses, he can sail off into the delightful cloud-land of 


astronomical speculation, and make of the striped and spotted 
sphere of Jove just such a world as may please his fancy — for a 
world of some kind it certainly is. 

For many observers the satellites of Jupiter possess even greater 
attractions than the gigantic ball itself. As I have already re- 
marked, their movements are very noticeable and lend a wonderful 
animation to the scene. Although they bear classical names, they 
are almost universally referred to by their Roman numbers, begin- 
ning with the innermost, whose symbol is I, and running outward 
in regular order II, III, and IV. The minute satellite much nearer 
to the planet than any of the others, which Mr. Barnard discovered 
with the Lick telescope in 1892, is called the fifth, although in the 
order of distance it would be the first. In size and importance, 
however, it can not rank with its comparatively gigantic brothers. 
Of course, no amateur's telescope can show the faintest glimpse 
of it. 

Satellite I, situated at a mean distance of 261,000 miles from 
Jupiter's center — about 22,000 miles farther than the moon is 
from the earth — is urged by its master's overpowering attraction 
to a speed of 320 miles per minute, so that it performs a complete 
revolution in about forty-two hours and a half. The others, of 
course, move more slowly, but even the most distant performs 
its revolution in several hours less than sixteen days. The plane 
of their orbits is presented edgewise toward the earth, from which 
it follows that they appear to move back and forth nearly in straight 
lines, some apparently approaching the planet, while others are 
receding from it. The changes in their relative positions, which 
can be detected from hour to hour, are very striking night after 
night, and lead to a great variety of arrangements always pleas- 
ing to the eye. 

The most interesting phenomena that they present are their 
transits and those of their round, black shadows across the face 
of the planet ; their eclipses by the planet's shadow, when they dis- 
appear and afterward reappear with astonishing suddenness; and 
their occultations by the globe of Jupiter. Upon the whole, the 
most interesting thing for the amateur to watch is the passage of 
the shadows across Jupiter. The distinctness with which they can 
be seen when the air is steady is likely to surprise, as it is certain 
to delight, the observer. "When it falls upon a light part of the 
disk the shadow of a satellite is as black and sharply outlined as 
a drop of ink; on a dark-colored belt it can not so easily be seen. 

It is more difficult to see the satellites themselves in transit. 
There appears to be some difference among them as to visibility 
in such circumstances. Owing to their luminosity they are best 


seen when they have a dark belt for a background, and are least 
easily visible when they appear against a bright portion of the 
planet. Every observer should provide himself wuth a copy of the 
American Ephemeris for the current year, wherein he will find 
all the information needed to enable him to identify the various 
satellites and to predict, by turning Washington mean time into 
his own local time, the various phenomena of the transits and 

While a faithful study of the phenomena of Jupiter is likely 
to lead the student to the conclusion that the greatest planet in 
our system is not a suitable abode for life, yet the problem of its 
future, always fascinating to the imagination, is open; and who- 
soever may be disposed to record his observations in a systematic 
manner may at least hope to render aid in the solution of that 

Saturn ranks next to Jupiter in attractiveness for the observer 
with a telescope. The rings are almost as mystifying to-day as 
they were in the time of Herschel. There is probably no single 
telescopic view that can compare in 
the power to excite wonder with that 
of Saturn when the ring system is 
not so widely opened but that both 
poles of the -planet project beyond 
it. One returns to it again and again 
with unflagging interest, and the 
beauty of the spectacle quite matches ^""^''^ ""^^.^""^1 ^'"^'^""'^ 
its singularity. When Saturn is in 

view the owner of a telescope may become a recruiting officer for 
astronomy by simply inviting his friends to gaze at the wonderful 
planet. The silvery color of the ball, delicately chased with half- 
visible shadings, merging one into another from the bright equa- 
torial band to the bluish polar caps; the grand arch of the rings, 
sweeping across the planet with a perceptible edging of shadow; 
their sudden disappearance close to the margin of the ball, where 
they go behind it and fall straightway into night; the manifest 
contrast of brightness, if not of color, between the two principal 
rings; the fine curve of the black line marking the 1,600-mile gap 
between their edges — these are some of the elements of a picture 
that can never fade from the memory of any one who has once be- 
held it in its full glory. 

Saturn's moons are by no means so interesting to watch as are 
those of Jupiter. Even the effect of their surprising number 
(raised to nine by Professor Pickering's discovery last spring of a 
new one which is almost -at the limit of visibility, and was found 



only with the aid of photography) is lost, because most of them are 
too faint to be seen with ordinary telescopes, or, if seen, to make 
any notable impression upon the eye. The two largest — Titan and 
Japetus — are easily found, and Titan is conspicuous, but they give 
none of that sense of companionship and obedience to a central 
authority which strikes even the careless observer of Jupiter's sys- 
tem. This is owing partly to their more deliberate movements 

Polar View of Saturn's System. The orbits of the five nearest satelHtes are shown. 
The dotted line outside the rings sliows Roche's hmit. 

and partly to the inclination of the plane of their orbits, which 
seldom lies edgewise toward the earth. 

But the charm of the peerless rings is abiding, and the interest 
of the spectator is heightened by recalling what science has re- 
cently established as to their composition. It is marvelous to think, 
while looking upon their broad, level surfaces — as smooth, appar- 
ently, as polished steel, though thirty thousand miles across — that 
they are in reality vast circling currents of meteoritic particles or 


dust, through which run immense waves, condensation and rare- 
faction succeeding one another as in the undulations of sound. 
Yet, with all their inferential tumult, they may actually be as 
soundless as the depths of interstellar space, for Struve has shown 
that those spectacular rings possess no appreciable mass, and, 
viewed from Saturn itself, their (to us) gorgeous seeming bow may 
appear only as a wreath of shimmering vapor spanning the sky and 
paled by the rivalry of the brighter stars. 

In view of the theory of tidal action disrupting a satellite with- 
in a critical distance from the center of its primary, the thought- 
ful observer of Saturn will find himself wondering what may have 
been the origin of the rings. The critical distance referred to, and 
which is known as Roche's limit, lies, according to the most trust- 
worthy estimates, just outside the outermost edge of the rings. 
It follows that if the matter composing the rings were collected 
into a single body that body would inevitably be torn to pieces and 
scattered into rings; and so, too, if instead of one there were sev- 
eral or many bodies of considerable size occupying the place of 
the rings, all of these bodies would be disrupted and scattered. If 
one of the present moons of Saturn — for instance, Mimas, the in- 
nermost hitherto discovered — should wander within the magic cir- 
cle of Roche's limit it wpuld suffer a similar fate, and its particles 
would be disseminated among the rings. One can hardly help 
wondering whether the rings have originated from the demolition 
of satellites — Saturn devouring his children, as the ancient myths 
represent, and encircling himself, amid the fury of destruction, 
with the dust of his disintegrated victims. At any rate, the ama- 
teur student of Saturn will find in the revelations of his telescope 
the inspirations of poetry as well as those of science, and the bent 
of his mind will determine which he shall follow. 

Professor Pickering's discovery of a ninth satellite of Saturn, 
situated at the great distance of nearly eight million miles from 
the planet, serves to call attention to the vastness of the " sphere 
of activity " ov«r which the ringed planet reigns. Surprising as 
the distance of the new satellite appears when compared with that 
of our moon, it is yet far from the limit where Saturn's control 
ceases and that of the sun becomes predominant. That limit, ac- 
cording to Prof. Asaph Hall's calculation, is nearly 30,000,000 miles 
from Saturn's center, while if our moon were removed to a dis- 
tance a little exceeding 500,000 miles the earth would be in dan- 
ger of losing its satellite through the elopement of Artemis with 

Although, as already remarked, the satellites of Saturn are not 
especially interesting to the amateur telescopist, yet it may be well 


to mention that, in addition to Titan and Japetus, the satellite 
named Khea, the fifth in order of distance from the planet, is not a 
difficult object for a three- or four-inch telescope, and two others 
considerably fainter than Khea — Dione (the fourth) and Tethys 
(the third) — may be seen in favorable circumstances. The others 
— Mimas (the first), Enceladus (the second), and Hyperion (the sev- 
enth — are beyond the reach of all but large telescopes. The ninth 
satellite, which has received the name of Phcebe, is much fainter 
than any of the others, its stellar magnitude being reckoned by 
its discoverer at about 15.5. 

Mars, the best advertised of all the planets, is nearly the least 
satisfactory to look at except during a favorable opposition, like 
those of 1877 and 1892, when its comparative nearness to the earth 
renders some of its characteristic features visible in a small tele- 
scope. The next favorable opposition will occur in 1907. 

When well seen with an ordinary telescope, say a four- or five- 
inch glass. Mars shows three peculiarities that may be called fairly 
conspicuous — viz., its white polar cap, its general reddish, or or- 
ange-yellow, hue, and its dark markings, one of the clearest of 
which is the so-called Syrtis Major, or, as it was once named on 
account of its shape, " Hourglass Sea." Other dark expanses in 

the southern hemisphere are 
not difficult to be seen, al- 
though their outlines are 
more or less misty and indis- 
tinct. The gradual diminu- 
tion of the polar cap, which 
certainly behaves in this re- 
spect as a mass of snow and 
ice would do, is a most in- 
teresting spectacle. As sum- 
mer advances in the south- 
ern hemisphere of Mars, the 
white circular patch sur- 
rounding the pole becomes 
^ , „ smaller, night after night, 

Mahs seen with a Five-Inch Telescope. ' •= , <=> ' 

until it sometmies disappears 
entirely even from the ken of the largest telescopes. At the same 
time the dark expanses become more distinct, as if the melting of 
the polar snows had supplied them with a greater depth of water, 
or the advance of the season had darkened them with a heavier 
growth of vegetation. 

The phenomena mentioned above are about all that a small 
telescope will reveal. Occasionally a dark streak, which large in- 



strimients show is connected with the mysterious system of " ca- 
nals," can be detected, but the " canals " themselves are far be- 
yond the reach of any telescope except a few of the giants handled 
by experienced observers. The conviction which seems to have 
forced its way into the minds even of some conservative astrono- 
mers, that on Mars the conditions, to use the expression of Pro- 
fessor Young, " are more nearly earthlike than on any other of 
the heavenly bodies which we can see with our present telescopes," 
is sufficient to make the 
planet a center of undying 
interest notwithstanding the 
difficulties with which the 
amateur is confronted in his 
endeavors to see the details 
of its markings. 

In Venus " the fatal gift 
of beauty " may be said, as 
far as our observations are 
concerned, to be matched by 
the equally fatal gift of 
brilliance. Whether it be 
due to atmospheric reflec- 
tion alone or to the preva- 
lence of clouds, Venus is 
so bright that considerable 
doubt exists as to the actual 
visibility of any permanent 
markings on her surface. The detailed representations of the disk 
of Venus by Mr. Percival Lowell, showing in some respects a re- 
semblance to the stripings of Mars, can not yet be accepted as de- 
cisive. More experienced astronomers than Mr. Lowell have been 
unable to see at all things which he draws with a fearless and un- 
hesitating pencil. That there are some shadowy features of the 
planet's surface to be seen in favorable circumstances is prob- 
able, but the time for drawing a " map of Venus " has not yet 

The previous work of Schiaparelli lends a certain degree of 
probability to Mr. Lowell's observations on the rotation of Venus. 
This rotation, according to the original announcement of Schiapa- 
relli, is probably performed in the same period as the revolution 
around the sun. In other words, Venus, if Schiaparelli and Lowell 
are right, always presents the same side to the sun, possessing, in 
consequence, a day hemisphere and a night hemisphere which never 
interchange places. This condition is so antagonistic to all our 

The Illumination of Venus' s Atmopphere at 
the beginning of her transit across the 


ideas of what constitutes habitability for a planet that one hesi- 
tates to accept it as proved, and almost hopes that it may turn out 
to have no real existence. Venus, as the twin of the earth in size, 
is a planet which the imagination, warmed by its sunny aspect, 
would fain people with intelligent beings a little fairer than our- 
selves; but how can such ideas be reconciled with the picture of a 
world one half of which is subjected to the merciless rays of a 
never-setting sun, while the other half is buried in the fearful 
gloom and icy chill of unending night? 

Any amateur observer who wishes to test his eyesight and his 
telescope in the search of shades or markings on the disk of Venus 
by the aid of which the question of its rotation may finally be set- 
tled should do his work while the sun is still above the horizon. 
Schiaparelli adopted that plan years ago, and others have followed 
him with advantage. The diffused light of day serves to take off 
the glare which is so serious an obstacle to the successful observa- 
tion of Venus when seen against a dark sky. Knowing the loca- 
tion of Venus in the sky, which can be ascertained from the Ephem- 
eris, the observer can find it by day. If his telescope is not per- 
manently mounted and provided with " circles " this may not prove 
an easy thing to do, yet a little perseverance and ingenuity will 
effect it. One way is to find, with a star chart, some star whose 
declination is the same, or very nearly the same, as that of Venus, 
and which crosses the meridian say twelve hours ahead of her. 
Then set the telescope upon that star, when it is on the meridian 
at night, and leave it there, and the next day, twelve hours after 
the star crossed the meridian, look into your telescope and you will 
see Venus, or, if not, a slight motion of the tube one way or an- 
other will bring her into view. 

For many amateurs the phases of Venus will alone supply suffi- 
cient interest for telescopic observation. The changes in her form, 
from that of a round full moon when she is near superior conjunc- 
tion to the gibbous, and finally the half-moon phase as she ap- 
proaches her eastern elongation, followed by the gradually nar- 
rowing and lengthening crescent, until she becomes a mere silver 
sickle as she swings in between the sun and the earth, form a suc- 
cession of delightful pictures for the eye. 

Not very much can be said for Mercury as a telescopic object. 
The little planet presents phases like those of Venus, and, accord- 
ing to Schiaparelli and Lowell, it resembles Venus in its rotation, 
keeping always the same side to the sun. In fact, Schiaparelli's 
discovery of this peculiarity in the ca^se of Mercury preceded the 
similar discovery in the case of Venus. There are perceptible 
markings on Mercury which have reminded some astronomers of 


the appearance of the moon, and there are various reasons for 
thinking that the planet can not be a suitable abode for living 
beings, at least for beings resembling the inhabitants of the earth. 
Uranus and Neptune are too far away to present any attraction for 
amateur observation. 



IN a recent advertisement. Professor Ward's work entitled as 
above was characterized as " one of the most important contri- 
butions to philosophy made in our time in England," and this was 
joined with the prophecy that it " may even do something to re- 
store to philosophy the prominent place it once occupied in English 
thought." Along with laudatory expressions, I have observed in 
some notices reprobation of the 'manner adopted by Professor 
Ward in his attack upon my views — I might almost say upon me; 
and one of the reviewers gives examples of the words he uses — 
" ridiculous," " absurd," " blunder," " nonsense," " amazing fal- 
lacy," '' our oracle." 

When, some time ago, I glanced at one of the volumes, I came 
upon a passage which at once stamped the book by displaying the 
attitude of the writer; but, being then otherwise occupied, I de- 
cided not to disturb myself by reading more. Now, however, 
partly by the reviews I have seen, and partly by the comments of 
a friend, I have been shown that I can not let the book pass with- 
out remark. The assumption that a critic states rightly the doc- 
trine he criticises is so generally made, that in the absence of proof 
to the contrary his criticisms are almost certain to be regarded as 
valid. And when the critic is a Cambridge Professor and an Hono- 
rary LL. D., the assumption will be thought fully warranted. 

Let me set out by quoting some passages disclosing the kind of 
feeling by which Professor Ward's criticisms are influenced, if not 
prompted. In his preface he says: — 

" When at length Naturalism, is forced to take account of the facts of 
life and mind, we find the strain on the mechanical theory is more than 
it will bear. Mr. Spencer has blandly to confess that ' two volumes ' of 
his Synthetic Philosophy are missing, the volumes that should connect 
inorganic with biological, evolution." 

Respecting the first of these sentences, I have only to remark 
that I have said (as in First Principles, § 62) and repeatedly im- 


plied, that force or energy in the sense which a " mechanical the- 
ory " connotes, can not be that Ultimate Cause whence all things 
proceed, and that there is as much warrant for calling it spiritual 
as for calling it material. As was asserted at the close of that work 
(p. 558), the " implications are no more materialistic than they are 
spiritualistic; and no more spiritualistic than they are material- 
istic "; and as was contended in the Principles of Sociology, § 659, 
" the Power manifested throughout the Universe distinguished as 
material, is the same Power which in ourselves wells up under the 
form of consciousness." 

But it is to the second sentence I here chiefly draw attention. 
Whether or not there be a sarcasm behind the words " blandly to 
confess," it is clear that the sentence is meant to imply some dere- 
liction on my part. JSTow in the programme of the Synthetic Phi- 
losophy, the division dealing with inorganic nature was avowedly 
omitted, " because even without it the scheme is too extensive " ; 
and this undue extensiveness was so conspicuous that I was thought 
absurd or almost insane. Yet I am now tacitly reproached be- 
cause I did not make it more extensive still — because an under- 
taking deemed scarcely possible was not made quite impossible. 
When blamed for attempting too much, it never entered my 
thoughts that I might in after years be blamed for not attempt- 
ing more. 

Repeated reference to First Principles as " the stereotyped phi- 
losophy " are manifestly intended by Professor Ward to reflect on 
me, either for having left that work during many years unchanged, 
or for implying that no change is needed. Much as I dislike per- 
sonal explanations, I am here compelled to make them. If, in 1896, 
when the ten volumes constituting the Synthetic Philosophy were 
completed, I had done nothing toward revision of them, the omis- 
sion would not have been considered by most men a reason for com- 
plaint. The facts, however, are, that in 1867 I issued a recast 
and revised edition of First Principles; in 1870 an edition of the 
Principles of Psychology, of which half was revised, and ten years 
later an enlarged edition of the same work; in 1885 a revised edi- 
tion of the first volume of the Principles of Sociology; and now I 
have fortunately been able to finish a revised and enlarged edition 
of the Principles of Biology. Any one not willfully blind might 
have seen that when persisting, under great difficulties, in trying to 
execute the entire work as originally outlined, it was not practi- 
cable at the same time to bring all earlier parts of it up to 
date. Professor Ward, however, thinks that I should have sac- 
rificed the end to improve the beginning, or else that I should 
have found energy enough to re-revise an earlier volume while 


writing the later ones; and my failure to do both prompts sarcastic 

In further illustration of the feeling Professor Ward brings to 
his task, I may quote the following passage, in which he interposes 
comments on my mode of writing: — 

"By the persistence of Force [capital F],.we really mean the persist- 
ence of some Power [capital P] which transcends our knowledge and con- 
ception. The manifestations, as recurring either in ourselves or outside 
of us, do not persist ; but that which persists is the Unknown Cause 
[capitals again] of these manifestations." 

The matter itself is trivial enough. It is worth noticing only as 
indicating a state of mind. Supposing even that capitals were in 
such cases inappropriate — supposing even that small initial letters 
would have been more appropriate ; it is clear that only one having 
a strong animus would have gone out of his way to notice it. 

After thus enabling the reader to judge in what temper the 
criticisms of Professor Ward are made, I may pass on. 

As implied at the outset, my intention is not to discuss Pro- 
fessor Ward's own philosophy — the less so because I discussed a like 
philosophy nearly a generation ago. His position is that " Once 
materialism is abandoned and dualism found untenable, a spiritual- 
istic monism remains the one stable position. It is only in terms of 
mind that we can understand the unity, activity, and regularity that 
nature presents. In so understanding we see that jSTature is Spirit." 
{Preface.) This was the position of Dr. Martineau in 1872 (and 
probably is now). He argued, that to account for this infinitude 
of physical changes everywhere going on, " Mind must be con- 
ceived as there," " under the guise of simple Dynamics." My 
criticisms on this view, given in an essay entitled " Mr. Martineau 
on Evolution," can not here be repeated. But I held then, as I 
hold now, that " the Ultimate Power is no more representable in 
terms of human consciousness than human consciousness is repre- 
sentable in terms of a plant's functions." Briefly the result is, that 
in saying " Nature is Spirit " (capital IST and capital S !), Professor 

* Candor often brings penalties, as witness the announcement " stereotyped edition." 
When another thousand of a work has been ordered, the printers do not always refer to the 
author for correction of the title-page, but, as a matter of course, put " second edition," or 
" third edition," as the case may be. When my attention has been drawn to s>ich matters, 
however, I have directed that the words " stereotyped edition " shall be put on the title- 
page if the printing is from plates, and if the work is unaltered : objecting to a usage which 
betrays readers into the false belief that new matter is forthcoming. I did not perceive 
that an antagonist might transform the words " stereotyped edition " into an assertion that 
the work needed no changes. Experience should have warned me that adverse interpreta- 
tions are inevitable wherever they are possible. To the question — " Why did you stereo- 
tvpe ? " the obvious reply is — " From motives of economy." 


Ward implies that he knows all about it; while I, on the other 
hand, am sure that I know nothing about it. 

And now, passing to mj essential purpose, let me exemplify 
Professor Ward's controversial method. Specifying an hypothesis 
of the late Dr. Croll (who, he thinks, had " incomparably more 
right to an opinion on the question " than I have), he says, that 
it " at least recognizes a problem with which Mr. Spencer scarcely 
attempts to deal — I mean the evolution of the chemical elements. 
It thus suffices to convict Mr. Spencer's work of a certain incom- 
pleteness " (i., 190). Apparently the words " scarcely attempts " 
refer to a passage in the above-named essay, " Mr. Martineau on 
Evolution," where several reasons are given for thinking that the 
" so-called elements arise by compounding and recompounding." 
More than this has been done, however. The evolution of the ele- 
ments, if not systematically dealt with within the limits of the 
Synthetic Philosophy, has not been ignored. In an essay on " The 
ISTebular Hypothesis " {Essays, i., pp. 156-9), it is argued, that 
" the general law of evolution, if it does not actually involve the 
conclusion that the so-called elements are compounds, yet affords 
a priori ground for suspecting that they are such "; and five groups 
of traits are enumerated which support the belief that they origi- 
nated by a process of evolution like that everywhere going on. 
But the point I here chiefly emphasize is that, having reflected 
upon me for omitting two volumes, Professor Ward again reflects 
upon me for having omitted something which one of these volumes 
would have contained. " Sir, you have neglected to build that house 
which was wanted! Moreover, you have not supplied the stairs! " 

From a sin of omission let us pass to a sin of commission. Pro- 
fessor AYard quotes from me the sentence — " The absolutely homo- 
geneous must lose its equilibrium; and the relatively homogeneous 
must lapse into the relatively less homogeneous." — First Princi- 
ples, p. 429). Then presently he writes: — 

" In ti-uth, however, homogeneity is not necessarily instability. Quite 
otherwise. If the homogeneity be absolute — that of Lord Kelvin's pri- 
mordial medium, say — the stability will be absolute too. In other words, 
if ' the indefinite, incoherent homogeneity,' in which, according to Mr. 
Spencer, some rearrangement must result, be a state devoid of all quali- 
tative diversity and without assignable bounds, then, as we saw in dis- 
cussing mechanical ideals, any * rearrangement ' can result only from 
external interference; it can not begin from within" (i., 223). 

And then he goes on to argue that " Thus, the very first step in 
Mr. Spencer's evolution seems to necessitate a breach of continuity. 
This fatal defect, &c." (ibid.). 


Observe the words " without assignable bounds "- — without 
knowable limits, infinite. So that the law of the instability of the 
homogeneous is disposed of because it does not apply to an infinite 
homogeneous medium. But since infinity is inconceivable by us, 
this alleged case of stable homogeneity is inconceivable too. Hence 
the proposal is to shelve the law displayed in all things we know, 
because it is inapplicable to a hypothetical thing we can not know, 
and can not even conceive ! !N^ow let me turn to the essential point. 
This nominally-exceptional case was fully recognized by me in the 
chapter he is criticising. In § 155 of First Principles (p. 429), it 
is written: — 

" One stable homogeneity only, is hjy'pothetically possible. If centers 
of force, absolutely uniform in their powers, were diffused with absolute 
uniformity through unlimited space, they would remain in equilibrium. 
This, however, though a verbally intelligible supposition, is one that can 
not be represented in thought; since unlimited space is inconceivable." 

So that this nominal exception which Professor Ward urges against 
me as a " fatal defect," was set forth by me thirty-seven years ago ! 
A somewhat more involved case may next be dealt with. Pro- 
fessor Ward writes: — 

" Moreover, on the physical assumption from which Mr. Spencer sets 
out, viz., that the mass of the universe and the energy of the universe 
are fixed in quantity — which ought to mean are finite in quantity — 
there can be no such alternations [of evolution and dissolution] as he 
supposes " (i., 192). 

After some two pages of argument, he goes on : — - 

" And so while all transformations of energy lead directly or indi- 
rectly to transformation into heat, from that transformation there is no 
complete return, and, therefore finally no return at all. This then is the 
conclusion to which Mr. Spencer's premises lead. Two eminent physi- 
cists who accept those premises may be cited at this point : ' It is abso- 
lutely certain,' they say, ' that life, so far as it is physical, depends essen- 
tially upon transformations of energy; it is also absolutely certain that 
age after age the possibility of such transformations is becoming less and 
less; and, so far as we yet know, the final state of the present universe 
must be an aggregation (into one mass) of all the matter it contains, i. e. 
the potential energy gone, and a practically useless state of kinetic en- 
ergy, i. e. uniform temperature throughout that mass. . . . The present 
visible universe began in time and will in time come to an end ' " (p. 194). 

Mark now, however, that this opinion of " two eminent physi- 
cists," quoted to disprove my position, and tacitly assumed to have 
validity in so far as it serves that end, is forthwith dismissed as hav- 
ing, for other purposes, no validity. His next paragraph runs: — 

" To this conclusion we are surely led from such premises. But again 
I ask what warrant is there for th6 premises? Our experience certainly 
does not embrace the totality of things, is, in fact, ridiculously far from 

VOL. LVI. — 28 


it. We have no evidence of definite space or time limits; quite the con- 
trary. Every advance of knowledge only opens up new vistas into a 
remoter past and discloses further depths of immensity teeming with 

Thus the trnth urged against me is that we can not know any- 
thing about these ultimate physical principles in their application 
to the ultra-visible universe. But, unhappily for Professor Ward's 
criticism, T entered this same caveat long ago. Demurring to that 
doctrine of the dissipation of energy to which he now demurs, I 
wrote : — 

" Here, indeed, we arrive at a barrier to our reasonings ; since we can 
not know whether this condition is or is not fulfilled. If the ether which 
fills the interspaces of our Sidereal system has a limit somewhere beyond 
the outermost stars, then it is inferable that motion is not lost by radi- 
ation beyond this limit ; and if so, the original degree of diffusion may 
be resumed. Or supposing the ethereal medium to have no such limit, 
yet, on the hypothesis of an unlimited space, containing, at certain inter- 
vals. Sidereal Systems like our own, it may be that the quantity of molec- 
ular motion radiated into the region occupied by our Sidereal System, 
is equal to that which our Sidereal System radiates; in which case the 
quantity of motion possessed by it, remaining undiminished, it may con- 
tinue during unlimited time its alternate concentrations and diffusions. 
But if, on the other hand, throughout boundless space filled with ether, 
there exist no other Sidereal Systems subject to like changes, or if such 
other Sidereal Systems exist at more than a certain average distance 
from one another; then it seems an unavoidable conclusion that the quan- 
tity of motion possessed, must diminish by radiation ; and that so, on 
each successive resumption of the nebulous form, the matter of our 
Sidereal System will occupy a less space; until it reaches either a state in 
which its concentrations and diffusions are relatively small, or a state 
of complete aggregation and rest. Since, however, we have no evidence 
showing the existence or non-existence of Sidereal Systems throughout 
remote space ; and since, even had we such evidence, a legitimate conclu- 
sion could not be drawn from premises of which one element (unlimited 
space) is inconceivable; we must be forever without answer to this tran- 
scendent question." (First Principles, § 182, pp. 535-6.) 

See, then, how the case stands. After urging against me the 
argument of " two eminent physicists " as fatal to my conclusions, 
he thereupon expresses dissent from the premises of that argument; 
and the reasons he gives for dissenting are like those given by me 
before he was out of his teens! 

Tt is not always easy to disentangle misrepresentations; espe- 
cially when they are woven into a fabric. For elucidation of this 
matter there needs another section. It may fitly begin with an 
analogy. An astronomer who "saw reason to think" that the 
swarm of November meteors this year would be greater than usual, 
would be surprised if the occurrence of a smaller number were 


cited in disproof of his astronomical beliefs at large. It would be 
lield that so undecided a phrase as " saw reason to think," not im- 
plying a definite deduction, did not implicate his general concep- 
tions nor appreciably discredit them. Professor Ward, however, 
thinks a tentative opinion is equivalent to a positive assertion. In 
the course of the foregoing argument (p. 191) he represents me 
as saying that " there is an alternation of evolution and dissolution 
in the totality of things." He does not quote the whole clause, 
which runs thus : — " For if, as we saw reason to think, there is an 
alternation of evolution and dissolution in the totality of things, &c." 
Here, then, are two qualifying expressions which he suppresses; and 
not only does he here suppress them, but elsewhere he refers to this 
passage as not speculative, but quite positive. On p. 197 he says: — 

" But of a single supreme evolution embracing them all we have no 
title to speak: not even to assume that it is, much less to say what it is; 
least of all to affirm confidently that it can be embraced in such a mean- 
ingless formula as the integration of matter and the dissipation of 
motion." [The italics are mine.] 

So that a hypothetical inference (implied by " if "), drawn from 
avowedly uncertain data (implied by '' reason to think "), he trans- 
forms into an unhesitating assertion. He does this in presence of 
my statement that respecting transformations of the Universe as a 
whole, no '' legitimate conclusions " can be drawn, and that we 
must be forever " without answer to this transcendent question." 
N^ay, he does it in presence of a still more specific repudiation of 
certainty. Section 182 begins: — 

" Here we come to the question raised at the close of the last chapter 
— does Evolution as a whole, like Evolution in detail, advance toward 
complete quiescence? Is that motionless state called death, which ends 
Evolution in organic bodies, typical of the universal death in which 
Evolution at large must end? . . . 

" To so speculative an inquiry, none but a speculative answer is to be 
expected. Such answer as may be ventured, must be taken less as a 
positive answer than as a demurrer to the conclusion that the proximate 
result must be the ultimate result" (p. 529). Instead of being a posi- 
tive answer, it is intended to exclude a positive answer. 

One more instance may be given to illustrate Professor Ward's 
mode of discrediting views which he dislikes. On p. 198 of his first 
volume occurs the sentence — 

" At any rate such a conception is less conjectural and more adequate 
than Mr. Spencer's ridiculous comparison of the universe to a spinning 
top that begins by ' wabbling.' passes into a state of steady motion or 
equilibrium mobile, and finally comes to rest." 

The reader who seeks a warrant for this representation will seek in 
vain. If, in the chapter of First Principles on " Equilibration," he 


turns to section 171, where the celestial applications of the general 
law are considered, he will find the Solar System alone instanced as 
having progress