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Officers and Council, lJ)21-22 v 

Sections and Sectional Officers, Edinburgh, 1921 vii 

Officers of Conference of Delegates ix 

Annual Meetings : Places and Dates, 1'resident.s, Attendances, 
Receipts, Sums paid on account of Grants for Scientific 

Purposes (1831-1921) x 

Report of the Council to the General Committee (1920-21) ... xiv 

General Treasurer's Account (1920-21) xxiil 

General Meetings at Edinburgh xxx 

Public Lectures at Edinburgh xxxi 

Research Committees (1921-22) xxxi 

Cairo Fund xxx vii 

Resolutions and Recommendations (Edinburgh Meeiing) xxxviil 

The Presidential Address, by Sir T. Edward Thorpe, C'.B., F.R.S. 1 

Sectional Presidents' Addresses : 

A. — Problems of Physics. By Prof. 0. W. Richardson, F.R.S... . 25 
B. — The Laboratory of the Living Organism. By Dr. M. O. 

Forsteb, F.R.S 36 

C.— Experimental Geology. By Dr. J. S. Flett, F.R.S 56 

D.— Some Problems in Evolution. By Prof. E. S. Goodrich, F.R.S. 75 

E.— Applied Geography. By Dr. D. G. Hogarth, C.M.G 86 

F. — The Piinciples by which Wages are Determined. By W. L. 


G.— Water Power. By Prof. A. H. Gibson 110 

I. — The Boundaries of Physiology. By Sir Walter M. Fletcher, 

K.B.E., F.R.S 125 

J. — C'onsciousncss and the Unconscious. By Prof. C. Lloyd 

Morgan, F.R.S 143 

A 2 



K. — The rrc.sL'ut Position of the Theory of Descent, in Relation to 

the Early History of Plants. By Dr. D. H. Scott, F.R.S.... 17U 

L. — The Place of Music in a Liberal Education. By Sir Henry 

Hadow, C.B.E 187 

M. — The Study of Agricultural Economics. By C. S. Obwin 194 

Reports on the State op Science, &c 2U() 

Transactions of the Sections 4U8 

References to Publication of Communications to the Sections... 464 

Sectional Communications in exlenso : 

Discussion on the Structure of Molecules 468 

Discussion on the Quantum Theory 473 

Science and Ethics, by Dr. E. H. Griffiths, F.R.S 47'J 

Corresponding Societies Committee's Report 487 

Conference of Delegates of Corresponding Societies : 

President's Address — The Message of Science, by Sir R. Gregory... 488 

Report of the Conference 4'J7 

List of Papers, 1920, on Zoology, Botany, and Prehistoric 

Archeology of the British Isles, by T. Sheppabd 499 

Index 550 

iritislj |.ss0riati0n for il^t ^bbaitamcnt 

0f Science, 




Sir T. Edward Thorpe, C.B., D.Sc, Sc.D., LL.D., F.R.S. 

Professor C. S. Sherrington, M.D., Sc.D., LL.D., F.R.S. 


The Right Hon. Thomas Hutchison, 
Lord Provost of the City of Edin- 

The Right Hon. Robert Munro, K.U., 
M.P., Secretary for Scotland. 

His Grace the Duke of Buccleuch 


The Most Hon. the Marquess of 

The Right Hon. Lord Clyde, Lord 

Justice General. 
Sir James Alfred Ewing, K.C.B., 

LL.D., F.R.S., Vice-chancellor of 

the University of Edinburgh. 

Professor Sir Edward Sharpey 
Schafer, LL.D., F.R.S., ex-Presi- 
dent of the Association. 

Professor F. 0. Bower, Sc.D., 
LL.D., F.R.S., President of the 
Royal Society of Edinburgh. 

Sir Robert Usher, Bart., Convener of 
the Midlothian County Council. 

Professor Sir Isaac Bayley Balfour, 
K.B.E., M.D., D.Sc, F.R.S. 

Sir .Johx Ross. LL.D., Chairman of 
Carnegie Trusts, Dunfermline. 


The Right Hon. the Lord Mayor of 

The Right Hon. Lord Nunburnholme, 

C.B., D.S.O., Lord-Lieutenant of the 

East Riding of Yorksiiire. 
The Right Hon. T. R. Ferens, P.C. 

High Steward. 
The Worshipful the Sheriff. 
Sir James Reckitt, Bart., D.L. 
The Right Rev. Francis Gurdon. 

Bishop of Hull. 

Col. W. (1. R. ChichesterConstable, 

James Downs, O.B.E., J.P. 
^Major A. J. Atkinson. O.B.E. 
Alderm:ui F. Askew, J.P. 
C. H. Gore, M.A., Headmaster 

Hymers College. 
,T. E. Forty, ALA., Headmaster 

Hull (lianimar Scliool. 
Dr. E. TuRTON. 


E. H. Griffiths, Sc.D., D.Sc, LL.D., F.R.S. 

A 3 




Professor H. H. Turner, D.Sc, 
D.C.L., F.R.S. 

Professor J. L. Myres, O.B.E., M.A. 
D.Sc, F.S.A. 


O. J. R. HowARTH, O.B.E., M.A., Burlington House, London, \V. 1. 

T. F. MiLNER, F.S.A. A., City Treasurer. 


H. A. Learoyd, M.A., LL.B., Town | T. Sheppard, M.Sc, Museums 
Clerk of Hull. I Curator. 


Dr. E. F. Armstrong, F.R.S. 

Dr. F. W. Aston, F.R.S. 

J. Barcroft, F.R.S. 

Professor W. A. Bone, F.R.S. 

Professor H. J. Fleure. 

Professor A. Fowler, F.Pi.S. 

Professor J. Stanley GARniNF.R, 

Sir R. A. Gregory. 
Sir R. Hadfield, Bart., F.R.S. 
Sir Daniel Hall, K.C.B., F.R.S. 
Sir S. F. Harmer, K.B.E.. F.R.S. 
J. H. Jean-s, F.R.S. 
Sir A. Keith, F.R.S 

Sir J. Scott Keltie. 

Professor A. W. Kirkaldy. 

Dr. P. Chalmers Mitchell. C.B.E., 

Sir J. E. Petavel, K.B.E., F.R.S. 
Sir W. J. Pope, F.R.S. 
Professor A. W. Porter, F.R.S. 
Dr. W. H. R. Rivers, F.R.S. 
Professor W. R. Scott. 
Professor A. C. Seward, 'F.R.S. 
Sir Aubrey Strahan, F.R.S. 
W. \Yhitaker, F.R.S. 
Dr. A. Smith Woodward, F.R.S. 


The Trustees, past Presidents of the Association, the President and Vice- 
Presidents for the year, the President and Vice-Presidents Elect, past and 
present General Treasurers and General Secretaries, past Assistant General 
Secretaries, and the Local Treasurers and Local Secretaries for the ensuing 
Annual Meeting. 



P. A. MacMahon, D.Sc, I Sir Arthur Evans, M.A., LL.D.. 

, F.R.S. j F.R.S., F.S.A. 

Hon. Sir Charles A. Parsons, K.C.B., LL.D., D.Sc, F.R.S. 



Sir A. Geikie, K.C.B., O.M 

Sir James Dewar, F.R.S. 

Arthur J. Balfour, O.M., F.R.S. 

Sir E. Ray Lankester, K.C.B., F.R.S. 

Sir Francis Darwin, F.R.S. 

Sir J. J. Thomson, O.M., Pres. R.S. 

Professor T. G. Bonney, F.R.S. 

Sir E. Sharpey Schafer, F.R.S. 
Sir Oliver Lodge, F.R.S. 
Professor W. Bateson, F.R.S. 
Sir Arthur Schuster, F.R.S. 
Sir Arthur Evans, F.R.S. 
Hon. Sir C. A. Parsons, K.C.B., 

Professor W. A. Herdman, C.B.E., F.R.S. 




Professor T. G. Bonney, F.R.S. 
Sir E. Sharpey Schafer, F.R.S. 
Dr. D. H. Scott, F.R.S. 
Dr. J. G. Garson. 

:Major P. A. M.\c^Iahon, F.R.S. 
Professor W. A. Herdmak, C.B.E., 


Professor A. Bowley. I Professor A. VV. Kirkaltiy. 



The Rt. Hon. Thomas Hutchison, Lord Provost. 

Thomas P.. Whitson, U.A. 


Professor J. H. Ashworth, D.Sc, F.R.S. 
A. Grierson, S.S.C., Town Clerk. 


Professor W. T. Gordon, D.Sc. 



President.— FtoL 0. W. Richardson, D.Sc, F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents.— Frol. C. G. Barkla, D.Sc, F.R.S. ; Prof. A. S. 
Eddington, M.Sc, F.R.S.; Principal Sir J. A. Ewing, K.C.B., LL.D., 
D.Sc, F.R.S.; C. G. Knoit, D.Sc, LL.D., F.R.S.; Prof. R. A. Sampson, 
D.Sc, F.R.S. ; Prof. E. T. Whittaker, M.A., F.R.S. 

Recorder. — A. O. Rankine, D.Sc. 

Serretaries.—I'roi. H. R. Hasse ; J. Jackson; M. A. GiBLETt; Prof. 

A. M. TYND.4LL, M.Sc 

Local Secretary.— G. A. Carse, D.Sc. 


President.— M. 0. Forster, D.Sc, Ph.D., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents.— FroL G. Bargee, D.Sc, F.R.S.; C. T. Heycock, 
M.A., F.R.S. ; Principal J. C. Irvine, D.Sc, Ph.D., F.R.S. ; Prof. Sir .7. 
Walker, D.Sc, Ph.D., LL.D., F.R.S. 

Becorder.— Prof. C. H. Descii, D.Sc, Ph.D. 

Secretaries.— K. McCombie, D.Sc; E. H. Tripp, D.Sc. 

Locol Secretar\i. — .1. E. Mackenzie, Ph.D., D.Sc 



President— 3 . S. Flett, D.Sc, LL.D., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents. — F. A. Bather, D.Sc, F.R.S.; Prof. L. W. Collet; 
Prof. R. A. D.4LY ; Walcot Gibson, D.Sc. ; J. Horne, LL.D., F.R.S. ; Prof. 
T. J. Jehu, M.A., M.D. 

Becorder. — A. R. Dwerryhouse, D.Sc. 

Secretaries.— Vroi. W. T. Gordon, D.Sc. ; Prof. G. Hicklixg, D.Sc. 

Local Secretary.— "R. Campbell, D.Sc. 


President.— Prof. E. S. Goodrich, M.A., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents. — E. J. Allen, D.Sc, F.R.S.; Prof. J. H. Ashwoeth, 
D.Sc, F.R.S.; Prof. J. C. Ew.^rt, M.D., F.R.S.; Prof. J. Stanley 
Gardiner, M.A., F.R.S. ; J. Ritchie, D.Sc. 

Becorder. — R. D. Laurie, M.A. 

Secretaries. — F. Baleour Browne, M.A. ; W. T. Calman, D.Sc, F.R.S. 

Local Secretary. — G. Leslie Purser, M.A. 


President.- V>. G. Hogarth, C.M.G., D.Litt. 

Vice-Presidents. — Capt. J. Bartholomew, F.R.S. E. ; W. S. Bruce, 
LL.D. ; H. M. Cadell, B.Sc. ; G. G. Chisholm, M.A. ; Col. Sir Duncan A. 
Johnston, K.C.M.G., C.B., C.B.E. ; J. McFarlant:, M.A. ; Miss Marion 
Xewbigin, D.Sc. 

Becorder. — R. N. Rudmose Brown, D.Sc. 

Secretaries. — Prof. W. H. Barker; F. Debenhaii. 

Local Secretary. — T. S. Muie, M.A. 


President. — W. L. Hichens. 

Vice-Presidents. — Prof. E. Cannan, LL.D. ; Andrew Henderson, B.Sc. ; 
Prof. A. W. Kirkaldy, M.A., M.Com. ; Prof. J. S. Nicholson, M.A. ; 
D.Sc; Prof. W. R. Scott. D.Phil., Litt.D., LL.D.; A. K. Wright, J. P. 

Becorder. — Prof. H. M. Hallsworth. 

Secretaries. — Miss L. Griee; A. Radford. 

Local Secretary. — W. M. Mitchell, M.A. 

President.— Proi. A. H. Gibson, D.Sc. 

Vice-Presidents.— Prof. F. G. Baily, M.A. ; Prof. T. Hudson Be.\re, 
B.Sc, D.L. ; AV. A. Eraser; Prof. A. E. Kenxelly ; Prof. R. Stanfield. 
Becorder.- Proi. G. W. O. Howe, D.Sc. 

Secretaries.— Pioi. F. Bacon, :\I.A. ; Prof. F. C. Lea, D.Sc. 
Local Secretary. — J. B. Todd, B.Sc. 


President.— m. Hon. Lord Abercromby, LL.D., F.R.S.E.i 

Vice-P,esidents.—A. O. Curle ; ProL H. J. Fleure, D.Sc; Sir E. F. 
iM Thurn, C.B., K.C.M.G. ; Prof. R. W. Reid, M.D. ; ProL A. 
Robinson, M.D. 

Becorder.-^. N. Fallaize, B.A. 

Secretary. — F. C. Shrubsall, M.D. 

Local Secretary. — D. MacRitchie. 

* III succession to Sir .J. fl. Frnzer. F.R.S.. resigned. 



President.— Sir Walter M. FLETcirEa, K.B.E., M.D., Sc.D., F.R.S. 

Vice-I'rPsidcnts.—¥roi. W. M. Bayliss, D.Sc, F.R.S. ; Prof. A. R. 
CusHNY, M.D , LL.D., F.R.S. ; J. S. Haldane, M.D., F.R.S. ; Prof. W. D. 
HALLiEimTON, M.D., L.L.D., F.R.S. ; Prof. Sir E. Sharpey Schafer, LI>.D., 
Sc.D., F.R.S. ; Prof. A. D. Waller, M.D., F.R.S. 

Ecwrder.— Prof. H. E., M.D., D.Sc. 

Serrehtnes.^C. Lovatt Evans, D.Sc. ; Prof. P. T. Herring, M.D. 

Local Secretarii.—yV. W. Taylor, D.Sc. 


President. — Prof. C. Lloyd Morgan, LL.D., D.Sc, F.R.S. 
Tirf -Preside nts.—C. S. Myers, M.D., Sc.D., F.R.S. ; W. H. R. Rivers, 
M.D., F.R.S.; Prof. G. M. Robertson; Prof. J. Seth. 
liecorder. — C. L. Burt. 
Secretary. — F. Watts. 
Local Secretary.— J. Drever, B.Sc, D.Phil. 


Preside rd.— J). H. Scott, D.Sc, LL.D., Ph.D., F.R.S. 

Vice-Prcshlents.^Pvot Sir I. B. Balfour, K.B.E., M.D., F.R.S.; 
Prof. F. 0. Bower, Sc.D., LL.D., F.R.S.; R. Kiuston, LL.D., F.R.S.; 
Miss E. R. Saunders ; Prof. E. P. Stebbing ; W. G. Smith, Ph.D. ; Prof. 
F. E. Weiss, D.Sc., F.R.S. 

Be cord er.— Miss E. N. Miles Thomas, D.Sc. 

Secretaries.— F. T. Brooks; Prof. J. McLean Thompson, D.Sc. 

Local Secretary. — W. Wright Smith, M.A. 


President.— Sh W. Henry Hadow, C.B.E., M.A., D.Mus. 

Vice-Presidents. — Her Grace the Duchess of Atholl, D.B.E., LL.D.; 
Sir R. Blair, M.A. ; Sir R. A. Gregory; Principal A. P. Laurie, D.Sc. ; 
A. Morgan, D.Sc. 

Recorder. — D. Berridge, M.A. 

Secretaries.— C. E. Browne, B.Sc; Miss L. J. Clarke, D.Sc. 

Local SecAtary.—I). Kennedy-Fraser, M.A., B.Sc. 


Presidpnt.—C. S. Orwin, M.A. 

T'/>c-P/p.s)'(/c;if.s.— Sir Robert Grieg; Prof. R. Wallace. 
liecorder. — A. Lauder, D.Sc. 

Secretaries.^ C. G. T. Morison, M.A. ; G. Scott Robertson, M.Sc. 
Local Secretary.— J. A. S. Watson, B.Sc 



President. — Sir Richard A. Gregory. 
Vice-President arid Secretary. — W. INFark Webb. 
Local Secretary. — T. Cuthbert Day. 



Date of Meeting 

Where held 


Old Life 


New Life 

1831, Sept. 27 

1832, June 19 

1833, June 25 

1834, Sept. 8 

1835, Aug. 10 

1836, Aug. 22 

1837, Sept. 11 

1838, Aug. 10 

1839, Aug. 26 

1840, Sept. 17... 

1841, July 20 

1842, June 23 

1843, Aug. 17 

1844, Sept. 26 

1845, June 19 

1846, Sept. 10... . 

1847, June 23 .... 

1848, Aug. 9 

1849, Sept. 12 

1860, July 21 

1861, July 2 


Viscount Milton, D.O.L., P.R.S 

The Rev. W. Buckland, P.R.S 

The Rev. A. Sedgwick, F.R.S 

Sir T. M. Brisbane, D.C.L., F.R.S. ... 
The Rev. Provost Lloyd,LL.D., P.R.S. 
The Marquis of Lansdowne, P.R.S. .. 

The Earl of Burlington, F.R.S 

The Duke of Northumberland, P.R.S. 
The Rev. W. Vernon Harcourt, P.R.S. 
The Marquis of Breadalbane, P.R.S. 

The Rev. W. Whewell, P.R.S 

The Lord Francis Egerton, F.G.S. ... 

The Earl of Rosse, F.R.S 

The Rev. G. Peacock, D.D., P.R.S. ... 
Sir John F. W.Herschel, Bart., P.R.S. 
Sir Roderick I.Murchison,Bart.,P.R.S. 
Sir Robert H. Inglis, Bart., F.R.S. ... 
The Rev. T. R. Robinsou, D.D., F.R.S. 

Sir David Brewster, K.H., F.R.S. 

G. B. Airy, Astronomer Royal, F.R.S. 

Lieut.-General Sabine, P.R.S 

William Hopkins, P.R.S 

The Earl of Harrowby, P.R.S 

The Duke of Argyll, P.R.S 

Prof. C. G. B.Daubeny, M.D., P.R.S.... 

The Rev. H. Lloyd, D.D., P.R.S 

Richard Owen, M.D., D.C.L., F.R.S.... 

H.R.H. The Prince Consort 

The Lord Wrottesley, M.A., P.R.S. ... 

William Fairbairn, LL.D., P.R.S 

The Rev. Professor WiUis,M.A.,F.R.S. 
SirWiUiam G. Armstrong.O.B., F.R.S. 
Sir Charles Lyell, Bart., M.A., F.R.S. 
Prof. J. Phillips, M.A., LL.D., P.R.S. 

William R. Grove, Q.C., F.R.S 

The Duke of Buccleuch, K.C.B.,F.R.S. 

Dr. Joseph D. Hooker, P.R.S 

Prof. G. G. Stokes, D.C.L., P.R.S. ... 
Prof . T. H. Huxley, LL.D., P.R.S. ... 
Prof. Sir W. Thomson, LL.D., P.R.S. 
Dr. W. B. Carpenter, F.R.S. ... 
Prof. A. W. Williamson, F.R.S. 

Prof. J. Ty ndall, LL.D., P.R.S 

Sir John Hawkshaw, P.R.S 

Prof. T. Andrews, M.D., P.R.S 

Prof. A. Thomson. M.D., P.R.S 

W. Spottiswoode, M. A., F.R.S 

Prof. G. J. AUman, M.D., F.R.S 

A. C. Ramsay, LL.D., F.R.S 

Sir John Lubbock, Bart., F.R.S 

Dr. C. W. Siemens, F.R.S 

Prof. A. Cayley, D.O.L., P.R.S 

Prof. Lord Rayleigh, F.R.S 

Sir Lyon Playfair, K.O.B., P.R.S 

Sir J. W. Dawson, O.M.G., P.R.S 

Sir H. E. Rosooe, D.O.L., F.R.S 

Sir P. J. Bramwell, F.R.S 

Prof. W. H. Flower, C.B., F.R.S 

Sir P. A. Abel, C.B., F.R.S 

Dr. W. Huggins, F.R.S 

Sir A. Geikie, LL.D., F.R.S 

Prof. J. S. Burdon Sanderson, P.R.S. 
The Marquis of Salisbury,K.G.,P.R.S. 
Sir Douglas Galton, K.C.B., P.R.S. ... 
Sir Joseph Lister, Bart., Prcs. R.S. ... 

Sir John Evans, K.C.B., P.R.S 

Sir W. Orookes, P.R.S 

Sir Michael Foster, K.C.B., Sec.R.S.... 










Newcastle-on-Tyne. . . 













1852, Sept. 1 

1853, Sept. 3 ... . 

1854, Sept. 20 . 

1865, Sept. 12 

1856, Aug. 6 


1868, Sept. 22 ... 

1859, Sept. 14 

1860, June 27 ... 

1861, Sept. 4 

1862, Oct. 1 . 

1863, AU2. 26 

1864, Sept. 13 

1865, Sept. 6 

1866, Aug. 22 

1867, Sept. 4 

1868, Aug. 19 ... 

1869, Aug. 18 

1870, Sept. 14 

1871, Aug. 2 . 

1872, Aug. 14 

1873, Sept. 17 ... 

1874, Aug. 19 

1875, Aug. 25 

1876, Sept. 6 .... 

1877, Aug. 15 

1878, Aug. 14 

1879, Aug. 20 

1880, Aug. 25 

1881, Aug. 31 

1882, Aug. 23 

1883, Sept. 19 

1884, Aug. 27 

1885, Sept. 9 

1886, Sept. 1 

1887, Aug. 31 

1888, Sept. 5 

1889, Sept. 11 

1890, Sept. 3 

1891, Aug. 19 ... 

1892, Aug. 3 . 

1893, Sept. 13... 

1894, Aug. 8 

1895, Sept. 11 ... 
1893, Sept. 16.... 

1897, Aug. 18 

1898, Sept. 7 

1899, Sent. 13 












Newcastle-on-Tyne. . . 




































* Ladies were not admitted by purchased tickets until 1843. t Tickets of Admission to Sections only. 

[ Continued on p. xii. 






Members j 


























































































































































































































Sams paid 

on account 

of Grants 

for Scientific 












































































10 11 1 

























































































X Including Ladies, § Fellows of the American Association were admitted as Hon. Members for this Meeting. 

[^Continued on p. xiii. 



Table of 

Date of Meeting 

Where held 


Sir William Turner, D.O.L.. F.R.S. ... 
Prof. A. W. Rucker, D.Sc, SecJl.S. ... 

Prof. J. Dewar, LL.D., F.R.S 

Sir Norman Lockyer, K.C.B., F.R.S. 
Rt. Hon. A. J. Balfour, M.P., F.R.S. 
Prof. G. H. Darwin, LL.D., F.R.S. ... 
Prof. E. Ray Lankester, LL.D., F.R.S. 

Sir DaTid Gill, K.O.B., F.R.S 

Dr. Francis Darwin, F.R.S 

Prof. Sir J. J. Thomson, F.R.S 

Rev. Prof. T. G. Bonney, F.R£ 

Prof. Sir W. Ramsay, K.C.B., F.R.S. 

Prof. E. A. Schafer. F.R.S 

Sir Oliver J. Lodge, F.R.S 

Prof. W. Bateson, F.R.S 

Prof. A. Schuster, F.R.S 

1 Sir Arthur Evans, F.R.S | 

Hon. Sir 0. Parsons, K.O.B.,P.R.S.... 

Prof. W. A. Herdman, C.B.E., F.R.S. 
Sir T.E. Thorpe, O.B., F.R.S 

Old Life 

New Life 

1900, Sept. 5 

1901, Sept. 11 

1902, Sept. 10 

1903, Sept. 9 

1904, Aug. 17 

1906, Aug. 15 

1906, Aug. 1 

1907, July 31 

1908, Sept. 2 

1909, Aug. 25 

1910, Aug. 31 

1911, Aug. 30 

1912, Sept. 4 

1913, Sept. 10 

1914, July-Sept.... 

1916, Sept. 7 

1916, Sept. 5 



1919, Sept. 9 

1920, Aug. 24 

1921, Sept. 7 












South Africa 










Newcastle-on-Tyue. . . 
(No Meeting) 

(No Meeting) 




T Including 848 Members of the South African Association. 
XX Grants from the Caird Fund are not included in this and subsequent sums. 





Annual Meetings— 


Old New 
Aiiuiial Annual 







Sums paid 

on account 

of Grants 


Members Members 

for Scientific 

£1072 10 


297 ; 45 






374 * 131 






920 9 11 


:h14 86 








319 90 






845 13 2 


449 113 






887 18 11 


937T 411 






928 2 2 


356 93 






882 9 


339 61 






767 12 10 


465 112 






1157 18 8 


290»« 1 162 






1014 9 9 


379 i 57 






963 17 


349 61 








368 95 






845 7 6 


480 149 






978 17 IJt 


139 416011 






1086 16 4 


287 116 






1159 2 8 

1915 i 

250 76 






715 18 10 


— — 






427 17 2 


— — 






220 13 3 


•2bi 102 









Annual Members 


















1272 10 

959 13 9 









2599 15 

418 1 10 


•* Including 137 Members of the American Association. 
II Special arrangements were made for Members and Associates joining locally in Australia see 
Keport, 1914, p. 686. The numbers include 80 Members who joined in order to attend the Meetineof 
L' Association Fran? aise at Le Havre. 
» Including Students' Tickets, 10». 




I. Professor Charles Scott Sherrington, Pres. Pi-.S., has been 
unanimously nominated by the Council to fill the office of President of 
the Association for the year 1922-23 (Hull Meeting). 

II. A resolution from Section D, supported by other Sections, urging 
the need for a national expedition for the further exploration of the 
sea, was referred by the General Committee at the Cardiff Meeting to 
the Council for consideration, and, if desirable, for action. A memo- 
randum, printed as an appendix to this report, was drawn up by a 
Committee which (as stated therein) was appointed by the Council for 
the purpose. 

The Council, however, at its meeting on March 4, 1921, adopted 
a report from the General Officers recommending that no further action 
should be taken for the present, in view of the need for economy in 
national expenditure, in regard to the presentation of the above scheme 
to H.M. Government. The scheme, however, is retained under con- 
sideration, and the Council hopes that the expedition is only postponed 
for a season, and that the interval may be usefully employed in 
perfecting plans and making other essential preparations. 

Meanwhile, the memorandum has been communicated to the Cabinet 
Secretariat of H.M. Government, the Admiralty, and the Department 
of Scientific and Industrial Eesearch. 

III. Other resolutions referred by the General Committee, at the 
Cardiff Meeting, to the Council for consideration and if desirable for 
action were dealt with as follows: — 

(a\) An application to H.M. Stationery Office to print tables on 
Congruence Solutions, prepared by Lieut. -Col. A. Cunningham and 
Mr. T. G. Creak, was forwarded to the Department of Scientific and 
Industrial Research, \\hich replied that the work could not be under- 
taken at present owing to the nigh cost of printing, but suggested that 
the application should be renewed later. (Eesolution of Section A.) 

(b) The need lor a central British institute for training and research 
ill surveying, hydrography, and geodesy has been brought to the notice 
of the Eoyal Commissions on the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge. 
(Resolutions of Sections A and E.) 

(c) A resolution on the desirability of continuing experiments on 
industrial alcohol in Government estabUshments was forwarded to the 
Director of Fuel Research. (Eesolution of Section B.) 

(d) The Council took note that the forecasting of the length of 
Research Committee reports was regarded as impossible in many cases 
by the Committee of Section C. Forecasts have not been requested 
this year, and alternative measures will be adopted in future. 


(e) Following on a resolution by Section D, supported by other 
sections, the Council communicated the following resolution to the First 
Lord of the Treasury : — - 

That the Council considers that no scheme of payment of professional 
scientific men in the service of the State is satisfactory which places them on 
a lower level than that of the higher grade of the Civil Service. 

(/) Eesolutions from Sections E and H in favour of the collection 
of rural lore through the agency of schools and colleges were approved 
and forwarded to the President of the Board of Education and to the 
Scottish Education Department. 

(g) A resolution from Section E, on geographical education in 
advanced courses, was approved and forwarded to the President of the 
Board of Education. 

(//) The Council forwarded to the Royal Society a resolution from 
Section E, asking that the representative of the Association on the 
National Committee on Geographical Research should be one who 
might hold office for a longer term than the President of Section E 
during his year of office (as proposed by the Society). Having ascer- 
tained the concurrence of the Society with this view, the Council 
appointed Professor J. L. Myres to represent the Association. 

(i) The Council communicated with the Government of the Union 
of South Africa as to the desirability of instituting an ethnological 
bureau (Resolution of Section H), and were informed that a school of 
Bantu studies is being established in connection with the University 
of Cape Town. 

(j) A resolution of Section. H on the desirability of instituting an 
anthropological survey of aborigines in Western Australia was approved 
and forwarded to the Government of that State. A resolution on the 
protection of aborigines in central Australia was approved and forwarded 
(o the High Commissioner for Australia, with an expression of satis- 
faction at the measures to that end which, as the Council learned, were 
ali'eady in hand. 

(fc) The Council resolved to give effect to a resolution (from Section 
H) that associations for the advancement of science in the Dominions 
and foreign countries should be asked to send official representatives 
to attend annual meetings of the British Association, and the Austral- 
asian, South African, American, French, Italian, and Spanish Associa- 
iions for the Advancement of Science were accordingly invited to send 
delegates to the Edinburgh meeting. 

(?) A I'esolution from Sections H and L. urging the extension of 
anfliropometric observations as part of the medical inspection in schools, 
was approved and forwarded to the President of the Board of Education 
and the Minister for Health. The former, however, pointed out that 
it was not possible to impose further duties upon local educational bodies 
in regard to medical inspection. 

(m) The Council approved the foi-mation of Section J, Psychology. 

(?i) A resolution from Section K, urging Government support for 
afforestation experiments on pit-mcmnds by the Midlands Afforestation 
Committee, was approved and forwarded to the Minister for Agriculture 
and to the Forestiy Commission. 


(o) Tlic Council were unable to approve a proposal (from Section L) 
that the Organising Committee of that Section should allow a book on 
Citizenship to be published with its approval, but informed the Com- 
mittee of its power to bring such a book to the notice of the Council 

(•/)) The Council took no action upon proposals received from the 
Conference of Delegates : (i) That a meeting of delegates should be 
held in London ; (ii) That the Council should urge the reappointment 
of a Eoyal Commission on Eailwa3's. As regards (ii) the Council felt 
that such a proposal lies outside the scope of the Association. 

IV. The Council have had under careful consideration various sugges- 
tions which have been made, in correspondence in NaUire and elsewhere, 
in regard to the organisation of Sections, the improvement of annual 
meetings, etc. The Council appointed a Committee ' to consider and 
report upon the redistribution of Sections and on other matters in connec- 
tion with the proceedings of the Annual Meeting,' and this Committee 
has presented a valuable and suggestive report. The Council also caused 
all the Organising Sectional Committees to be summoned to meet on 
one day (February 25, 1921) at Burlington House, accommodation 
being provided for them through the kind collaboration of the 
Chemical Society, the Society of Antiquaries, and the Linnean Society. 
The Committees met jointly, as well as separately, ^ and the opportunity 
thus afforded for interchange of views was greatly appreciated, and 
resulted in many valuable suggestions, especially in the direction of 
formulating subjects for joint discussion at the Edinburgh Meeting. 

In the outcome, the Council have made the following arrangements, 
which they hope will add to the success of the forthcoming and future 
Annual Meetings: — 

(a) Out of the subjects proposed for discussion at joint sectional 
meetings the Council have selected six, for which they have empowered 
the General Officers to fix times in the programme of the meeting, with 
a view to their arrangement as special features. 

(b) Sectional Presidents have been given the opportunity either of 
reading their addresses, as hitherto, or of speaking and introducing 
discussion upon their subjects (without formal reading). The Council 
have also empowered the General Officei's to fix the times of presidential 
addresses in the programme, in order to avoid the clashing of subjects 
of kindred interest. 

(c) The Council have endorsed the opinion of the meeting on Feb- 
ruary 25 that any grouping of the Sections should be voluntary and 
temporary, not binding and permanent. They propose, however, that 
the General Committee should meet in special session at the Edinburgh 
Meeting to consider the question of a reduction in the number of 

(d) The Council have empowered Sectional Committees to submit 
each year a short list of names suitable for Presidents of their respective 
Sections at the next meeting. 

1 These meetings rendered unnecessary a meeting of Recorders of Sections 
similar to that which was so successfully held in 1920, and is referred to in 
Seport of Council, 1919-20, § xv. 


V. Conference of Delegates and Corresponding Societies Com- 
mittee. — The following nominations are made by the Council: Confer- 
ence of Delegates : Sir R. A. Gregory [President), Mr. W. Mark Webb 
{Vice-President and Secretary), Mr. T. C. Day {Local Secretary for the 
Edinhurgli Meeting). Corresponding Societies Coinviiilee: Mr. W. 
Whitaker {Chairman), Mr. W. Mark Webb {Secretary), Mr. P. J. 
Ashton, Dr. F. A. Bather, Eev. J. O. Bevan, Sir Edward Brabrook, 
Sir H. G. Fordham, Sir R. A. Gregory, Mr. T. Sheppard, Rev. 
T. R. R. Stebbing, Mr. Mark L. Sykes, and the President and General 
Officers of the Association. 

VI. Under the powers delegated to them by the General Committee, 
the Council appointed Dr. E. H. Griffiths General Treasurer of the 
.\ssociation for the year 1920-2]. His accounts have been audited and 
are presented to the General Committee. 

VII. The Council empowered the General Officers to grant the sum 
of 2501. annually for five years out of the gift of 1,000L (with accumu- 
lated interest) made by the late Sir James Caird for the study of radio- 
activity, subject to reports to the Council by the General Officers and 
the recipients. The grant for the year 1921-22 has been made to Sir 
E. Rutherford. 

VIII. The retiring Ordinary Members of the Council are: — 

By seniority: Dr. F. A. Dixey, Sir F. W. Dyson, Miss E. R. 

By least attendance: Sir D. Morris. 

Dr. E. H. Griffiths, on his appointment as General Treasurer, ceased 
to be an Ordinaiy Member of the Council. 

The Council nominated the following new members: — 
Dr. F. W. Aston, Prof. H. T. Fleure, Prof. A. C. Seward, 
leaving two vacancies to be filled by the General Committee without 
nomination by the Council. 

The full list of nominations of Ordinary Members is as follows: — 

Mr. J. H. Jeans. 
Professor A. Keith. 
Sir J. Scott Keltic. 
Professor A. W. Kirkaldy. 
Dr. P. Chalmers Mitchdl. 
Sir W. J. Pope. 
Dr. W. H. R. Rivers. 
Professor W. R. Scott. 
Professor A. C. Seward. 
Sir Aubrey Strahan. 
Mr. W. Whitaker. 
Dr. A. Smith Woodward. 

IX The General Officers have been nominated by the Council as 
follows : — 

General Treasurer, Dr. E. H. Griffiths. 

General Secretaries, Prof. H. H. Turner and Prof. J. L. Myres. 

X. Dr. E. H. Griffiths and Prof. J. L. Myres have been appointed 
representatives of the Association on the Conjoint Board of Scientific 

1921 B 

Dr. E. r. Armstrong. 

Dr. F. W. Aston. 

INIr. J. Barcroft. 

Professor W. A. Bone. 

Professor H. J. Fleure. 

Professor A. Fowler. 

Professor J. Stanley Gardiner, 

Sir R. A. Gregory. 

Sir R. Hadfield. 

Sir Daniel Hall. 

Sir S. F. Harmer. 


XI. The following have been admitted as nieiiibers ol the General 
Committee: — 

Canon J. A. MacCulloch, Dr. J. E. Milne, Trof. T. P. Nunn, 
Dr. J. Eeilly, Mr. W. Alfred Eichardson, Sir E. Eobertson, Prof. W. H. 

XII. The Council have been informed that invitations for future 
Annual Meetings will be presented in due course to the General Com- 
mittee as follows : Liverpool, 1923 ; Toronto, 1924. 

XIII. The following changes in the Eules are proposed, namely : — 

(a) Rule VII., 4, ' tlie balance .standing ... to the credit of tlie AssociatioTi 
ill the hooks of the Bank of England,' to read ' . . . the Association's bankers us 
authorised by the Council.' 

(h) To add in Rule X., after clause (iii.) : 

(iv.) University students, not resident or working in the locality where the 
Annual Meeting takes place, may, on tlie recommendation of any recognis<<d 
University or College, obtain, on one occasion only, students' tickets for tin; 
meeting on payment of 10s. Holders of such tickets shall not be entitled to any 
privilege beyond attendance at the Annual Meeting, but shall not be debarred 
from admission under clause (iii.). 




Origin of Proposal. 

AT the Annual Meeting of the British Association for the Advance- 
ment of Science in August 1920 the President, Dr. W. A. 
Herdman, F.R.S., Professor of Oceanography in the University of 
Liverpool, delivered an address dealing with some of the problems of 
oceanography, and suggested that the time had come for a new British 
expedition to explore the great oceans of the globe. This suggestion was 
aftei-wards put forward more definitely and with further detail in the 
discussion ' On the Need for the Scientific Investigation of the Ocean ' 
at a joint meeting of the Sections of Zoology and Geography. The pro- 
posal then made was, in brief, that there was now urgent need for 
another great exploring lexpedition like that of the Challcugrr 
(1872-76), national in character, world-wide in scope, to investigate 
further the science of the sea, in all departments, by modern methods 
under the best expert advice and control. 

Action by Committees and Council of the Association. 

This proposal was received with such favour that at the next meeting 
of the Committee of Section D (Zoology) a resolution was unanimously 
passed : — 

That Section D is profoundly impressed with the impoiiance 
of urging the initiation of a further National Expedition for the 
Exploration of the Ocean, and requests the Council of the British 
Association to appoint a Committee to take the necessary steps to 
impress this need upon His Majesty's Government and the 
This resolution was supported by the Committees of all the other Sections of 
the Association interested in such an exploration. The Committee of Recom- 
mendations and the General Committee on the following day passed a resolution 
' pointing out the importance of urging the initiation of a national expedition 
for the exploration of the ocean, and requesting that the Council of the British 
Association should take the necessary steps to impress this need upon His 
Majesty's Government and the nation.' The Council of the Association there- 
upon appointed a Committee, representative of all the departments of science 
concerned, to prepare and take steps for the presentation of the present state- 
ment; while, following upon a reference from the Association, the Council of the 
Royal Society also appointed a Committee to confer with that appointed by the 
Council of the Association. 

Many men of science, both British and foreign, wrote expressing the hope 
that the cogent scientific reasons for the expedition may be pi-essed without delay 
upon the Government so as to indue© the nation to undertake this great enterprise. 



' Challenger ' Expedition. 

The ChdUciKjrr expedition, the great British circumnavigating and deep-sea 
exploring expedition under Sir George Nares and Sir Wyville Thomson in 
1872-76, brought back collections and results unrivalled either before or since, 
which added enormously to our scientific and practical knowledge of the oceans. 
Our knowledge of the science of the sea, however, has undergone great changes 
during the last half-century. Physics, Chemistry, Geology, Zoology, Botany, 
Physiology, and Geography all have problems awaiting solution,' and there are 
many modern method's of investigation of the ocean depths which have been 
devised or improved since the days of the Ckallenqer. AH civilised nations of 
the world have contributed by means of expeditions during the last quarter- 
century to the advance of oceanography, and it is remarkable that our country, 
considering the relations of our Empire to the oceans, has done comparatively 
little. In view of our maritime position, of the pre-eminence of our Navy, of 
our great mercantile marine, and of our sea-fisheries, Great Britain should 
undoubtedly lead the world in oceanographical research. 


Scope and Period of Proposed Expedition. 

Such an exiDedition as is contemplated ought, in order to make worthy contri- 
butions to science, to be at least as extensive in duration and as comprehensive 
in scope as the Cliallcnijor Expedition. It ought to explore all the great oceans 
during a period of three or four years. It ought to be prepared to establish 
landiTig parties on oceanic islands, coral reefs, and other places where special 
detailed explorations on shore or in shallow water are required. Special 
scientific apparatu.s may have to be devised, and young scientific men may 
have to be trained to fit them for the work of such an expedition. At 
least one year, therefore, would have to be devoted to the work of preparation. 
It will be apparent from the Appendix to this statement that a number of the 
investigations proposed are of the highest direct practical importance, and there 
are many reasons why it is important that the scheme should be initiated and 
preparations organised with as little delay as possible. 


Preliminary inquiries lead tentatively to the belief that a vessel of the 
mercantile marine, of aliout 3.000 tons, chartered by H.M. Government for the 
occasion, would best suit the general purposes of the expedition ; with the possible 
exception, as already indicated, of certain investigations which might be carried 
out independently of the main body. 

Date of Departure.^ 

It has been suggested that the expedition should start in the summer of 1922, 
which date would, incidentally, permit of its conveying the astronomical 
observers of the eclipse of the sun visible on September 30 of that year in the 
Maldive Islands (Indian Ocean). 

Scientific Personnel. 

It is estimated that the scientific staff of such an expedition should consist of 
a director with ten or twelve assistants, exclusive of landing parties and any 
officers of the Royal Navy who might be detailed for special investigations for 
Admiralty purposes. 


While it is difficult under present conditions, and in the present preliminary 
stage of inquiry into the possibility and scope of the expedition, to form any 
near estimate of its cost, it is believed that (apart from the provision of the 

1 See Schedule appended for a Summary of the proposed investigations. 
- This clause is now subject to the Council's decision stated in Report § II. 


ship, which it is hoped would be undertaken by the Admiralty) this should lie 
between 200,000/. and 300,000/., with a bias toward the higher figure. It is to 
be observed that the expenditure would be spread over a number of years. 

Publication of Results. 

In this connection suitable arrangements for the adequate publication of the 
results of the expedition must be borne in mind. The working out and 
publication of the results of the ChalUnger Expedition are stated to have cost 
about as much as the expedition itself, .md a similar expenditure may be 
anticipated in the present case. 

Preservation of Specimens. 

The natural repository of type specimens collected during the expedition 
would be the British Museum (Natural History Dep<artment), while duplicate 
specimens should be ottered to museums, universities, etc., in various parts of the 

The Committee trust at this stage to obtain such assurance from H.M. Govern- 
ment of their support as will justify them in reporting to their Council that the 
organisation of the expedition is to be proceeded with. Having regard to the 
world-wide and therefore Imperial character of the investigations proposed, to 
whicli they have already called attention, and to the valuable assistance which 
could be rendered locally to the expedition by the Govenmients of the Dominions 
whose territories border upon the great oceans, they venture to suggest to 
H.M. Government that the subject of the expedition is one which might properly 
be brought to the notice of the Imperial Conference. 


Subjects for Investigation. 

To give some idea of the amount and variety of scientific work that miglit be 
undertaken by such an expedition, the following may be mentioned as some of 
the chief recommendations which have been received from representatives of the 
various Sections of the Association concerned : — 

(1) In the departments of marine biology and physiology extensive 
investigations are required of fish and fisheries in the interest of food sup- 
plies. These include a very wide range of inquiry, which may be sum- 
marised thus : the effects of temperature and other conditions on the distri- 
bution and life of organisms; the distribution of the plankton (which includes 
organisms of first-rate importance a.s food for fishes which supply food for 
man); ocean currents in relation to fisheries (just enough is known as to the 
influence of variations in the great oceanic currents upon the movements and 
abundance of migratory fishes to make evident the need for further and more 
complete investigation' of the subject); the physiology of deep-sea and otiier 
oceanic animals; the investigation of marine alg.-e, both coastal and 
lilanktonic; marine bacteria; bio-chemical investigation of the metabolism i;f 
the sea (this is perhaps the department of oceanography which deals with 
the most fundamental problems and which is most in need of immediate 
investigation) : the question of the abundance of tropical plankton as com- 
pared with that of temperate and polar seas, the distribution and action of 
denitrifying bacteria, the variations of the plankton in relation to environ- 
mental conditions, the factors which determine uniformity of conditions 
over a large sea area from the point of view of plankton distribution, the 
supply of the necessary minimal substances such as nitrogen, silica, and 
phosphorus to the living organisms, and the determination of the rate of 
production and rate of destruction of all organic substances in the sea— 
these are some of the fundamental proMcnis of llic int-tuliolism of the ocean; 


all of them require investigation, and bear, directly or indirectly, upon the 
harvest of the sea for man's use, iust as agricultural researches bear upon the 
harvest of the land. 

(2) In the appropriate departments of chemistry observations are required 
on the temperature, salinity and chemistry of sea-water, the hydrogen-ioti 
concentration, and the source and distribution of nitrogen in the sea. 

(3) In the department of physics there is need for investigation of 
meteorological problems, the distribution of oceanic temperature, atmospheric 
electricity, long-distanc« transmission of electro-magnetic waves, and other 
problems of wireless telegraphy at sea. The study of the variation in the 
force of gravity over the great ocean basins is also suggested, and bears 
upon the problem of the figure of the earth, and the density of materials of 
which it is composed. It may be stated here that such an investigation 
might need to be carried out on a larger and steadier ship than that which 
would most probably be detailed for the expedition. On the other hand, 
there is no reason why the whole of the investigations associated with the 
expedition should be confined to a single vessel, for the opportunity might 
be made for collateral investigations on other vessels in the ordinary course 
of navigation. Similarly, the investigation of the phenomena of tides, one 
of the most urgent on the physical side, could most profitably be begun in 
shallow seas, and not on the vessel carrying the main expedition over the 
deep oceans. 

(4) In the departments of geology and geography there are indicated as 
subjects for study both shallow and deep water deposits, and the various 
methods of deposition ; sediments on the sea-bottom in relation to the move- 
ment (rising or sinking) of adjacent land areas (a matter which in turn bears 
upon the encroachments of the sea upon the land, or the reverse) ; borings 
on the floor of the sea for the extension of knowledge of the rocks composing 
the crust of the earth; the physical conditions of oceanic islands; the growth 
and other problems of coral reefs and islands. 

(5) In the department of anthropology it is pointed out that the oppor- 
tunity for landing parties on oceanic islands (especially in the Pacific) would 
give occasion for observations on the ethnography, habits, and life of native 
populations; any medical officer attached to such parties would find matter 
for study in the physical characters and diseases of natives. 

It is not suggested that the foregoing summary by any means covers a com- 
pleta list of the problems of the ocean requiring investigation, nor on the other 
hand that these need all be undertaken by one expedition ; but they are sufficient 
to show that there is still much to be found out in all branches of oceanography, 
and that a further scientific exploration of the oceans will add to knowledge 
in many branches of science, and should also aid in the advancement of various 
industries based upon marine products of economic importance. 

It may be desirable to refer to the relations between the work of such an 
expedition as is here proposed — work which, while temporary in character would 
be world-wide in scope — and that carried on under the International Council for 
the Study of the Sea in the North Atlantic and adjoining European seas. This 
latter work, while restricted in scope, is permanent, and the proposed oceano- 
graphic expedition covers a wider lange in science, and would offer an unsur- 
passable opportunity of qualifying investigators to take part in future oceano- 
graphical and fisheries research under a permanent organisation. 



July 1, 1920, to Junk 30, 1921. 

On the recommendation of the Hon. Auditors, the former simple 
statement of receipts and payments for the year is replaced on this 
occasion, and for the future, by a balance sheet showing liabilities 
and assets, an expenditure and income account, and a separate 
statement for the Caird Fund. 

In the accounts of expenditure and income certain comparative 
figures for the year 1919-20 are furnished, and notes upon some of 
these are appended to the accounts. Owing to the alteration in the 
method of presenting the accounts, a complete comparison is, on this 
occasion, not possible. 

The financial position of the Association cannot be regarded as 
satisfactory. It is natural that under present circumstances there 
should be a downward tendency in the receipts from membership 
subscriptions, which represent over two-thirds of the receipts from 
normal sources. On the other hand, all ordinary expenditure has 
increased since 1914 : salaries approximately by 28 per cent., printing 
by 120 per cent., and expenditure on postage, stationery, and traveUing 
very largely. Economies have been effected wherever possible ; for 
example, there are now in the London office only two permanent paid 
officers, whereas in 1914 there w^ere three and in 1910 and earher four ; 
while printing, which is the heaviest single item of expenditure, has 
been reduced, it is believed, to the limit of efficiency, the cost last year 
being £1,475 10s. Ud., as against £2,400, which would have been the 
approximate cost at present rates if printing had been maintained at 
pre-war standard. Notwithstanding these economies, the balance sheet 
reveals an excess of expenditure over income amounting to £80, and 
this deficit would have been much greater had we not received certain 
non-recurrent items of income. 

It is impossible to avoid the conclusion that the deficit in the 
coming year will be largely increased, and the General Treasurer asks 
members to recognise the necessity of economy in such matters as the 
reduction in printing, grants for research, etc. 


{Ge.neml Tieasurer), , 


Balance Sheet, 


£ 8. d. £ 8. d. 

To Sundry Creditors ...... 282 3 7 

,, f'apifal Accounts — 

General Fund per contra . . . 10,575 15 2 

Caird Fund do. .... 9,582 IC 3 

Sir F. Bramwell's Gift for Enquiry into 

Prime Movers, 1931 — 
£50 Consols accumulated to June 30, 1921, 
per contra . . . . . . 49 15 

20,208 6 5 

.. Caird Fimd Income and Expenditure Account 

Balance at July 1, 1920 .... 582 3 

Add Income Tax Recovered j'ear 1919 110 9 8 

692 12 8 

Jdd Excess of Income over Expenditure 

for year to June 30, 1921 . . 275 19 

908 U 8 

Caird Gift— 

Radio-Activity Investigation, Balance at 

July 1, 1920 1,208 8 11 

.4dd Interest on Deposit 35 5 
Dividends on Treasury 

1 onds . . . 14 19 4 

49 19 

1,258 8 


LfM Grant to Sir E. Rutherford 

„ Income and Expenditure Account, Balance at 

July 1, 1920 3,367 14 n 

Add Income Tax Recovered year 1919 95 14 1 

1.008 S 8 

3,463 9 

Less Outstanding Account for year 1919 
(\ne to Printers — paid since . . 1,328 7 1 

2,135 1 11 

Less Excess of Expenditure over In- 
come for year to June 30, 1921 . 80 2 9 

2,054 19 2 

£24,522 9 6 

I have examined the foregoing Balance Sheet and accompanying Accounts with 
balances at the Bankers and the inveslnients. ^viuuinB nruii 



July 29, 1921. 



June 30, 1921. 


By Sundry Debtors 

„ Investments on Capital Accounts^- 

i-4,6')l 10s. rid. Consolidated 21 percent. 
Stock at cost ..... 

,^3,000 India A per cent. Stock at cost 
£879 14s. 9d. £43 Great Indian I'eninsula 
" B " Annnity at cost .... 
£863 2s. lOrf. War Stock, 1929-47, at cost . 
£1,400 War Bonds 5 per cent., 1929-47, at cost 

Value at date, £6,794 8s. 4f/. 

„ Caird Fund — 

£2,627 Os. lOd. India 3 i percent. Stock at cost 

£2,100 London and North Western Rly. 
Consolidated 4 per cent. Preference at cost 

£2,500 Canada 31 fer cent. ,1930-50, Registered 
Stock at cost ...... 

£2,500 London & South Western Rly. Con- 
solidated 4 per cent. Preference at cost . 

Value at date, £5,889 18s. 2d. 

„ Sir F. Bramwell's Gift — 

•2\ percent. Self -Cumulating Consolidated Stock 
at Nominal Value ..... 
Add accumulations to .Tune 30, 1920 . 
Do. to .Inne 30, 1921 . 

Value at 48 
,, Caird Gift — 

£1,000 Treasury Bonds .... 
„ Investments out of Income — 

£900 Treasury Lionds .... 

,, Cash — 

On Deposit ...... 

At Bank ....-•• 

In Hand .....■• 

Caird P'und 
Caird Gift 
General Purposes 




£ s. d. 
259 2 5 















10,575 15 '. 













9,582 Ifi ; 

908 11 

S 8 





50 (I 

50 19 3 

2 14 

103 13 3 

1,657 18 1 

490 10 2 

C 12 5 

49 15 



2,155 8 

£24,522 9 6 

the books and vouchers and certify the same to be correct. I have also verified the 

W, B. KEEN, 

Chartered Accmmiant. 



General Treasurer in Account 

July 1, 1920, to 


To Heatinsr and Lighting 
,, Stationery 
,, Advertising 

„ Rent .... 

„ Electric Light Installation and Gas 

„ Postages .... 
,, Gift to Miss Stewardson 
„ Travelling Expenses . 
„ General Expenses 

„ Salaries and Gratuity 
,, Printing, Binding, etc. 

„ Grants to Research Committees 
Table of Constants 
Bronze Implements 
Colloid Chemistry 
Corresponding Societies 
Macedonia (excavations) 
Primary Survey of Wales 
Gravity at Sea 
Coloui' in Lepidoptera . 
Inheritance in SUkwomis 
Oenothera . 
Training in Citizenship .' 
Colloid Chemistry 
Primary Survey of Wales 
International Languages 
Credit, Currency, and Finance 
Zoological BibUography 
Educational Pictures 
Physiology of Heredity 

„ Cardiff Meeting Expenses . 

£ s. d. 

7 13 7 
43 13 11 
21 13 3 

8 2 G 

96 9 6 

53 12 5 


28 5 11 

£ s. d. 

171 5 

530 16 

972 10 

1,475 10 



Figures in 
£ s. d. 

2,978 17 2 

292 14 S(i) 
/SS9 15 3(i) 


























418 1 10 
121 3 4 

£3,518 2 4 

1,011 13 
260 8 ?(") 

(1) The higher figure for 1920-21 is to be accounted for mainly by non-recurrent 
charges (gift to Miss Stewardson, electric light installation, and certain advertising), 
amounting to £216. The remainder is largely accounted for by increased postal charges 
and travelling expenses. 

(2) The sum of £859 15s. Zd. does not represent the whole cost ot printing incurred 
in 1919-20, which was £2,188 2s. 4d. The sum of £1,475 10s. lid., on the other hand, 
represents the whole cost of printing incurred in 1920-21. The economies in printing 
put into force by the Council have, therefore, proved effective. 

(■■') The falling-off in life compositions is accounted for by the raising of the fee from 
£10 to £15 in 1919, and by the fact that a large number of members compounded imme- 
diately before the raising of the fee came into effect. 

(■<) The sums on account of Life Members' additional subscriptions represent the 
result of an appeal made by the late General Treasurer to old Life Member's to add to 
their original compositions in order to help to meet the increased cost of printing, if they 

June 30. 


To Grant to Seismological Committee 
,, Balance carried to Balance Sheet 


£ s. d. 
1 00 
275 19 

£375 19 



with the British Association. 

June 30, 1921. 


By Life Compositions .... 
,, Annual Members' Siibscription.s 

,, ,, ,, (Temporary) 

„ „ ,. with Report 

,, Transferable Tickets .... 
,, Students' Tickets .... 
„ Life Members' Additional Subscriptions 
„ Refund of TravelUug Expenses re. 

Australian Meeting, 1914 
,, Donations ..... 

„ Interest on Deposits .... 
,, Sales of Publications .... 
,, Unexpended Balance of Grants returned 
,, Jncome Tax recovered 
„ Dividends : — 

Consols ..... 

India 3% 

Great Indian Peninsula Railway . 
" B " Annuity 

War Stock 

Treasury Bonds .... 

Legacies : — 

T. W. Backhouse .... 
Wm. Palmer .... 

Balance being Excess of Expendit\irp 
over Income for Year 









Figures In 


i; 8. d. 

734 0(3) 


til 3 







■1,72C 10 
446 13 








2,489 G 

53 6 

224 11 

51 111 
















272 10 











£3,518 2 4 

wished to receive the annual report. This source of income must be regarded as non- 

(') The greater part of the ' Bournemouth Fund,' initiated to meet the cost of 
researches maintained during and after the war, when the normal resources of the Associa- 
tion became severely limited, is represented by the figure of £2,489 (is. 6d. for 1919-20. 
Only small additions were received in 1920-21, and this source of income is to be regai'ded 
as non -recurrent, and has been devoted to the purpose for which it was subscribed. 

(6) The increase in receipts from sale of publications in 1920-21 is lai'gely accounted 
for by the publication of the Presidential Addresses as ' The Advancement of Science : 
1920,' a measure first undertaken in that year. 

(') ' Unexpended balances ' are from grants made in the preceding year. 

(>*) The reduction in the expenses of the Annual Meeting was effected mainly by 
ceasing to issue a daily journal independently of the Annual Report : the single journal 
now Lssued is subsequently incorporated in the Report. 


June 30. 


£ s. tl. 
By Dividends"on Investments : — 

India 3J% 64 7 4 

Canada 3i% (including extra 1%) . 70 

Ijondou and South-Western Railway 

Consolidated 4 % Pref. Stock . 70 

London and North -Western Railway 

Consolidated 4 % Pref. Stock . 58 16 

„ Income Tax Recovered 


263 3 4 
112 15 8 

£375 19 



Bank Agreement, June 30, 1921. 

Balance as per Pass Book . 

Less Cheques not presented : — 
Prof. Love 
„ Bateson 
,, Bateson 
Di'. Hoyle . 
„ Thomas . 
,, Foster Morlcy 
Prof. Scott . 
„ Poulton . 
„ Myres . 
Sir R. Gregory 

Balance as per Cash Book 

£ s. 



s. d. 




17 2 


1 5 


7 10 




16 18 

6 10 

1 QC 

o 1 n 

£490 10 2 

Dividends and Interest Received Year ended 
June 30, 1921. 

& 8. d. 1920 

4,Gr)l 10 5 Consolidated 2i per cent., 

i Year 

.•i.fino n India 3 per cent. Stock 

879 14 £43 Great Indian Peninsula ' B 
Annuity . . . . 

July 5 
Oct. 5 
Jan. .') 
April 7 

July 5 
Oct. 5 

Jan. 5 
April 7 

June 30 
Dec. 31 

810 10 3 War Stock r, ppr cent. 1929-47 . Dec. 1 

June 1 

52 12 7 

Post Office Issue . Dec. 1 
June 1 

1,400 War Bonds, r. per cent. 1929-47 . Dec. 1 

June 1 

900 Treasury Bonds 

£ s. a. 

20 7 

20 7 

20 7 

20 7 

18 18 

18 18 

18 18 

18 18 

11 14 
11 15 


20 5 


20 5 


1 r. 3 

1 r> 3 

24 10 

24 10 

£ a. d. 

81 8 

75 12 

23 9 11 

40 10 6 

2 12 

6 9 

£278 13 8 



Gaird Fund. 


Canada 31 per 

cent. 1930-00 

2,027 10 ludia 3* per cent. Stoek 

2,500 Londou aud South -Westeru Kail- 
way t^nnsolidated 4 per eeut. 
Preference .... 

2,100 Loiidou and North-Western liail- 
way Consolidated 4 per cent. 
Preference .... 

Gaird Gift. 

1,000 Treasury Bonds , 

£ 8. 

i: s. (/. 

.Iiine 30 


Dec. 31 




.July 5 




Oct. 5 





Jan. 6 




April 5 







.lune 30 


Dee. 31 



June 30 



Dec. 31 







£263 3 


£14 19 


General Account 
Caird Fund . 
Caird Gift . 

278 13 8 

263 3 4 

14 19 4 

£556 16 4 

Investment Values, June 30, 1921. 











810 10 

52 12 


I Consols, 25 per cent. . 

India 3 per cent. 

£43 Great Indian Peninsula 

Railway ' B ' Annuity 
India 3i per cent. 
London and North-Western 
Consolidated 4 per cent. Pre- 
ference 1881 
Canada 3 1 per cent. 1930-50 

(Deposited with Treasury) 
Londou and South-Western Rail 
way t^onsolidated 4 per cent 
3 War Stock 5 per cent. 1929-47 
7 „ „ Post Office Issue 

War Bonds, 5 per cent. 1929-47 

1,900 Treasury Bonds. 






ini? Value:^ at 
lune 30,1020. 

£ s. d. 

. 48 



2,233 l:J 4 

. 50 



5S0 10 

. 57 
60 i 






1,471 -J 4 
1,291 10 

. 06 



1,S37 10 

1- 58J 



\ 1,112 10 

• }8Si 




731 12 i 

. 98 









S.V',416 8 1 



Inaugural General Meeting. 

On Wednesday, September 7, at 8.30 p.m., in the Usher Hall, 
Professor W. A. Herdman, C.B.E., F.E.S., resigned the office of 
President to Sir T. Edward Thorpe, O.B., F.R.S. In the greatly 
regretted absence of Sir Edward Thorpe owing to indisposition, his 
Address (for which see p. 1) was read by Principal Sir J. Alfred Ewing, 
K.C.B., F.R.S. , a Vice-Piesident of the Association. 

The meeting was preceded by a recital of organ music by British 
composers, given by Mr. Eobert M'Leod, Mus.Bac, F.R.C.O., 

Evening Discourses. 

On Friday, September 9, at 8.30 p.m., m the Usher Hall, Professor 
C. E. Inglis, O.B.E., delivered a discourse on 'A Comparison of the 
Forth and Quebec Bridges, showing the Evolution of Cantilever Bridge 
Construction during the past thirty years.' 

On Tuesday, September 13* at 8.30 p.m., in the Usher Hall, 
Professor W. A. Herdman, C.B.E., F.R.S., delivered a discourse on 
'Edinburgh and Oceanography.' 

Concluding General Meeting. 

The Concluding General Meeting was held in the M'Ewau Hall 
on Wednesday, September 14, at 12 noon, the President, Sir Edward 
Thorpe, in the Chair. The following Resolutions were unanimously 
adopted, conveying the thanks of the Association: 

(1) To the Lord Provost and tlie Citizens of Edinburgh, and to the University 
of Edinburgh, for their invitation to hold a meeting in their city, and for tlie 
cordial reception which they have given to the members of the British 

(2) lo the University of Edinburgh, for the use of the McEwan Hall and 
other University buildings for the Sectional meetings; to H.M. Office of Works. 
for the use of the Parliament Hall as a reception room ; to the Advocates' 
Library, the Royal Scottish Museum, and the Zoological Society of Scotland, for 
throwing open their buildings and garden for the instruction and delight of 
members ; to the Very Reverend Dr. Wallace Williamson and the Kirk Session 
of St. Giles' Cathedral, for an occasion of public worship in tliat historic 
building; to the Royal Society of Edinburgh, the Colleges of Physicians and of 
Surgeons, the Philosophical Institution, the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, 
the Royal Scottish CJeographical Society, and other learned Societies and Institu- 
tions, for admittance to their libraries and collections; to the Air Ministry, 
for establishing a ^NFeteorological Office at the place of meeting; and to the 
Carnegie Trust, for their hospitable reception at Dunfermline. 

(3) To the Hon. Local Secretaries. 

(4) To the Hon. Local Treasurer and the ^Members of the Finance Committee. 

(5) To the'^Iembers of the Hospitality Committee, and especially to its 
Secretary, !Miss S. H. Turcan ; the Wardens of the University Hostels ; the 
Committees of the University I^nion : the Women's ITniversity Union : and the 


I'luljs iitid (iiilf Chilis wliiih have ;i(hiiitl('(l .Memheis of llie Association iluriii;,' 
liicir stay. 

(6) To tlie .M(!nihers of the Reception and Rooms Committee, and especially 

to Dr. F. A. E. Crew; to the Puhlitations hub-Ccmmittec, the Excursions 
Committee, and tlic Entertainments Committee. 

(7) To tlie Staffs tif tlio University, the Advocates' Library, tlie Parliament 
Hall, tlie Town Clerk's OfKce; to Mr. Wliitson's Office Staff; to the Station- 
masters of the Waverley and C'aledonian Stations; to the Post Office officials 
at the Reception Room, and to the Reception Room Staff generally, and to the 
Boy Scouts, for their assistance at every point to ensure the success of a 
memorable meeting. 


Public ov Citizens' Lectures were delivered in the Uslicr Hall at 
8 P.M. as follows : 

Tuesday, Septembei- G: Sir Oliver J. Lodge, F.E.S., on ' Speech 
througli the Ether, or tlie Scientific Principles underlying Wireless 
Telephony. ' 

Thiusday, Septeniher 8: Professor A. Dendy, F.R.S., on 'The 
Stream of Life. ' 

Monday, September 12: Professor H. J. Fleurc, D.Sc, on 'Coun- 
tries as Perso;ialities. ' 



Grants of money, if any, from the Association for expenses connected 
with researches arc indicated in heary type. 

For Committees concerned with the Nucleus Catalogue for the Carneyie 
United Kingdom Trust, see end of this list, 


Seismological Investigations.— Prof. H. H. Turner {Chairman), Mr. J. J. Shaw 
{Secretary). Mr. C. Vernon Bovs, Dr. J. E. Crombie, Sir H. Darwin, Dr. C. Davison, 
Sir F. W. Dyson, Sir R. T. Glazebrook, Prof. C. G. Knott. Prof. H. Lamb, Sir 
J. Larraor, Prof. A. E. H. Love. Prof. H. M. Macdonald, Prof. H. C. Plummer, 
Mr. W. E. Plummer, Prof. R. A. Sampson, Sir A. Schuster, Sir Napier Shaw, 
Dr. G. T. Walker. £100 (Caird Fund grant). 

To assist work on the Tides. — Prof. H. Lamb {Chairman). Dr. A. T. Doodson {Secretary), 
Colonel Sir C. F. Close, Dr. P. H. Cowell, Sir H. Darwin, Dr. G. H. Fowler, 
Admiral F. C. Learmonth, Sir J. E. Petavel, Prof. J. Proudman, Major G. I. 
Taylor, Prof. D'Arcy W. Thompson, Sir J. J. Thomson, Prof. H. H. Turner. 


Annual Tables of Constants and Numerical Data, chemical, physical, and technological. 
— Sir E. Rutherford (Chairman), Prof. A. W. Porter (Secretary), Mr. A. E. G. 
Egerton. £40 from Caird Fund, to be applied for from Council. 

Calculation of Mathematical Tables. — Prof. J. W. Nicholson (Chairman), Dr. J. R. 
Airey (Secretary), Mr. T. W. Chaundy, Prof. L. N. G. Filon, Colonel Hippisley. 
Prof. E. W. Hobson, Mr. G. Kennedy, and Profs. Alfred Lodge. A. E. H. Love, 
H. M. Macdonald, G. B. Mathews, G. N. Watson, and A. G. Webster. £20. 

Determination of Gravity at Sea. — Prof. A. E. H. Love (Chairman), Dr. W. G. Duffield 
(Secretary),Mr. T. W. Chaundy, SirH. Darwin, Prof. A. S. Eddington, Major E. 0. 
Henrici, Sir A. Schuster, and Prof. H. H. Turner. 

Radiotelegraph ic Investigations. — Sir Oliver Lodge (Chairman), Prof. W. H. Eccles 
(Secretary), Mr. S. G. Brown, Dr. C. Chree, Sir F. W. Dyson, Prof. A. S. Eddington, 
Dr. Erskine-Murray, Profs. J. A. Fleming, G. W. 0. Howe, H. M. Macdonald, 
and J. W. Nicholson. Sir H. Norman, Sir A. Schuster, Sir Napier Shaw, and 
Prof. H. H. Turner. 

Inve.'itigation of the Unper Atmosphere. — Sir Napier Shaw (Chairman), Mr. C. J. P. 
Cave (Secretary), Prof. S. Chapman. Mr. J. S. Dine.«, Mr. W. H. Dines, Sir R. T. 
Glazebrook, Col. E. Gold, Dr. H. Jeffreys, Sir J. Larmor, Mr. R. G. K. Lenip- 
fert. Prof. F. A. Lindemann, Dr. W. Makower, Sir J. E. Petavel, Sir A. Schuster, 
Dr. G. C. Simpson, Mr. F. J. W. Whipple, Prof. H. H. Turner. 

To aid the work of Establishing a Solar Observatory in Australia. — Prof. H. H. Turner, 
(Chairman), Dr. W. G. Duffield (Secretary), Rev. A. L. Cortie, Dr. W. J. S. Lockyer, 
Mr. F. McClean, and Sir A. Schuster. 


Colloid Chemistry and its Industrial Applications. — Prof. F. G. Donnan (Chairman], 
Dr. W. Clayton (Secretary), Mr. E. Ardern, Dr. E. F. Armstrong, Prof. W. M. 
Bavliss, Prof. C. H. Desch, Dr. A. E. Dunstan, Mr. H. W. Greenwood, Mr. W. 
Harrison, Mr. E. Hatschek, Mr. G. King, Prof. W. C. McC. Lewis, Prof. J. W. 
McBain, Dr. R. S. Morell, Profs. H. R. Proctor and W. Ramsden, Dr. E. J. 
Russell, Mr. A. B. Searle, Dr. S. A. Shorter, Dr. R. E. Sladc, Mr. Sproxton, 
Dr. H. P. Stevens, Mr. H. B. Stocks, Mr. R. Whymper. £10. 

Fuel Economy ; Utilisation of Coal ; Smoke Prevention. — Prof. W. A. Bone (Chair- 
man), Mr. H. James Yates (V ice-Chairman], Mr. Robert Mond (Secretary), Mr. 
A. H. Barker, Prof. P. P. Bedson, Dr. W. S. Boulton, Mr. E. Bury, Prof. W. E. 
Dalby, Mr. E. V. Evans, Dr. W. Gallowav, Sir Robert Hadfield. Bart., Dr. 
H. S. Hele-Shaw, Mr. D. H. Helps, Dr. ' G. Hickling. Mr. A. Hutchinson, 
Mr. S. R. lUingworth, Principal G. Knox, Prof. Henry Louis, Mr. H. M. 
Morgans, Dr. J. S. Owens, Mr. W. H. Patchell, Mr. A. T. Smith, Dr. J. E. Stead, 
Mr. C. E. Stromeyer, Prof. W. W. Watts, Mr. C. H. Wordingham, and 
Mr. H. James Yates. £5. 

Absorption Spectra and Chemical Constitution of Organic Compounds. — Prof. I. M. 
Heilbron (Chairman), Prof. E. E. C. Baly (Secretary), Prof. A. W. Stewart. £10. 


The Old Red Sandstone Rocks of Kiltorcan, Ireland. — Prof. Grenviile Cole (Ch'vr- 
man). Prof. T. Johnson (Serreiary), Dr. J. W. Evans, Dr. R. Kidston, and Dr. 
A. Smith Woodward. £15. 

To excavate Critical Sections in the Palaeozoic Rocks of England and Wales. — Prof. 
W. W. Watts (Chairman), Prof. W. G. Fearnsides (Secretary), Prof. W. S. Boulton, 
Mr. E. S. Cobbold, Prof. E. J. Garwood, Mr. V. C. Illing, Dr. J. E. Marr, and 
Dr. W. K. Spencer. £15. 


The Collection, Preservation, and Systematic Registration of Photographs of Geo- 
logical Interest. — Prof. E. J. Garwood (Chairman), Prof. S. H. Reynolds (Secretary), 
Mr. G. Bingley, Dr. T. G. Bonney, Messrs. C. V. Crook, R. Kidston, and A. 8. 
Reid, Sir J. J. H. Teall. Prof. W. W. Watts, and Messrs. R. Welch and W. Whitaker. 

To consider the preparation of a List of Characteristic Fossils. — Prof. P. F. Kendall 
(Chairman), Fioi. W. T. Gordon (Secretary), Prof. W.S. Boulton.Dr. A.R. Dwerry- 
house. Profs. J. W. Gregory, Sir T. H. Holland, and S. H. Reynolds, Dr. Marie 
C. Stopes, Dr. J. E. Marr, Prof. W. W. Watts, Mr. H. Woods, and Dr. A. Smith 

To investigate the Flora of Lower Carboniferous times as exemplified at a newly- 
discovered locality at Gullane, Haddingtonshire. — Dr. R. Kidston (Chairman), 
Prof. W.T. Gordon (Secretary), Dr. J. S. Flett, Prof. E. J. Garwood, Dr. J. Home, 
and Dr. B. N. Peach. 

To investigate the Stratigraphical Sequence and Palaeontology of the Old Red Sand- 
stone of the Bristol district. — Mr. H. Bolton (Chairman), Mr. F. S. Wallis 
{Secretary), Miss Edith Bolton, Mr. D. E. I. Innes, Prof. C. Lloyd Morgan, Prof. 
S. H. Reynolds. 


To aid competent Investigators selected by the Committee to carry on definite pieces 
of work at the Zoological Station at Naples. — Mr. E. S. Goodrich (Chairman), 
Prof. J. H. Ashworth (Secretary), Dr. G. P. Bidder, Prof. F. 0. Bower, Dr. W. B. 
Hardy, Sir S. F. Harmer, Prof. S. J. Hickson, Sir E. Ray Lankester, Prof. W. C. 
Mcintosh, Dr. A. D. Waller. £100 from Caird Fund, subject to approval of 

To summon meetings in London or elsewhere for the consideration of matters affecting 
the interests of Zoology, and to obtain by correspondence the opinion of Zoologists 
on matters of a similar kind, with power to raise by subscription from each 
Zoologist a sum of money for defraying current expenses cf the organisation. — 
Prof. S. J. Hickson (Chairman), Dr. W. M. Tattersall (Secretary), Profs. G. C. 
Bourne, A. Dendy, J. Stanley Gardiner, W. Garstang, Marcus Hartog, W. A. 
Herdman, J. Graham Kerr, R. D. Laurie, E. W. MacBride, A. Meek, Dr. P. 
Chalmers Mitchell, and Prof. E. B. Poulton. £20 for rejjrint and distribution 
of Report (not exceeding 2,500). 

Zoological Bibliography and Publication.— Prof. E. B. Poulton (Chairman), Dr. F. A. 
Bather (Secretary), Mr. E. Heron-Allen, Dr. W. E. Hoyle, and Dr. P. Chalmers 
Mitchell. £1. 

Gilbert White Memorial (Brent Valley Bird Sanctuary). — Sir S. F. Harmer 
(Chairman), Mr. W. Mark Webb (Secretary), Dr. W. T. Caiman, Mr. E. Heron- 
Allen. £5. 

Parthenogenesis. — Prof. A. Meek (Chairman), Mr. A. D. Peacock (Secretary), Mr. 
R. S. Bagnall, Dr. J. W. Heslop-Harrison. £5. 

To nominate competent Naturalists to perform definite pieces of work at the Marine 
Laboratory, Plymouth. — Prof. A. Dendy (Chairman and Secretary), Prof. E. S. 
Goodrich, Prof. J. P. Hill, Prof. S. J. Hickson, Sir E. Ray Lankester. 

Experiments in Inheritance in Silkworms. — Prof. W. Bateson (Chairman), Mrs. Merritt 
Hawkes (Secretary), Dr. F. A. Dixey, Prof. E. B. Poulton, Prof. R. C. Punnett. 

Experiments in Inheritance of Colour in Lepidoptera. — Prof. W. Bateson (Chairman), 
The Hon. H. Onslow (Secretary), Dr. F. A. Dixey, Prof. E. B. Poulton. 




To formulate suggestions for a syllabus for the teaching of Geography both to Matricu- 
lation Standard and in Advanced Courses ; to report upon the present position 
of the geographical training of teachers, and to make recommendations thereon ; 
and to report, as occasion arises, to Council through the Organising Committee 
of Section E, upon the practical working of Regulations issued by the Board of 
Education affecting the position of Geography in Training Colleges and Secondary 
Schools.— Prof. T. P. Nunn (Chairman), Mr. W. H. Barker {Secretary), Mr. C. E'. 
Browne, Sir H. J. Makinder. 


The Effects of the War on Credit, Currency, Finance, and Foreign Exchanires. — Prof. 
W. R. Scott {Chairman), Mr. J. E. Allen {Secretary], Prof. C. F. Bastable, Sir E. 
Brabrook, Dr. J. H. Clapham, Dr. Hugh Dalton, Mr. B. EUinger, Sir D. Drummond 
Fraser, Mr. A. H. Gibson, Mr. C. W. Guillebaud, Mr. F. W. Hirst, Prof. A. W 
Kirkaldv, Mr. F. Lavington, Mr. D. H. Robertson, Mr. E. Sykes, Sir J. C. Stamp. 


To report on certain of the more complex Stress Distributions in Engineering Materials. 
— Prof. E. G. Coker {Chairman), Prof. L. N. G. Filon and Prof. A. Robertson 
{Secretaries), Prof. A. Barr, Dr. Gilbert Cook, Prof. W. E. Dalby. Sir J. A. 
Ewing, Messrs. A. R. Fulton and .J. J. Guest, Dr. B. P. Haigh, Profs. 
Sir J. B. Henderson, C. E. Inglis, F. C. Lea, A. E. H. Love, and W. Mason, 
Sir J. E. Petavel, Dr. F. Rogers, Dr. W. A. Scoble, Mr. R. V. Southwell, 
Dr. T. E. Stanton, Mr. C. E. Stromeyer, and Mr. J. S. Wilson. £10. 


To report on the Distribution of Bronze Age Implements. — Prof. J. L. Myres {Chair- 
man), Mr. H. Peake (Secretary), Dr. E. C. R. Armstrong, Dr. G. A. Auden, Mr. 
H. Balfour, Mr. L. H. D. Buxton, Mr. 0. G. S. Crawford, Sir W. Boyd Dawkins, 
Prof. H. J. Fleure, Mr. G. A. Garfitt, Dr. R. R. Marett, Mr. R. Mond, Sir C. H. 
Read, Sir W. Ridge way. £50. 

To conduct Archoeological Investigations in Malta. — Prof. J. L. Myres (Chairman), 
Sir A. Keith (Secretary), Dr. T. Ashby, Mr. H Balfour, Dr. A. C. Haddon, 
Dr. R. R. Marett, Miss M. Marray, and Mr. H. Peake. £25. 

To conduct Explorations with the object of ascertaining the Age of Stone Circles. — 
Sir C. H. Read (Chairman), Mr. H. Balfour (Secretary), Dr. G. A. Auden, Prof. 
Sir W. Ridgeway, Dr. J. G. Garson, Sir Arthur Evans, Sir W. Boyd Dawkins, 
Prof. J. L. Myres, and Mr. H. Peake. £30, provided work completed by 
December 31, 192L 

To excavate Early Sites in Macedonia. — Prof. Sir W. Ridgevay (Chairman), Mr. 
A. J. B. Wace {Serretari/), Prof. R. C. Bosanquet, Mr. S. Casson, Dr. W. L. H. 
Duckworth, Prof. J. L. Myres. 

To excavate a Palaeolithic Site in Jersey. — Dr. R. R. Marett (Chairman), Mr. G. de 
Gruchy (Secretary), Dr. C. W. Andrews, Mr. H. Balfour, Prof. A. Keith, and 
Colonel Warton. 

To report on the Classification and Distribution of Rude Stone Monuments. — Dr 
R. R. Marett (Chairman), Prof. H. J. Fleure {Secretary), Miss R. M. Fleming, 
Prof. J. L. Myres, Mr. H. Peake. 


The Collection, Preservation, and Systematic Registration of Photographs of Anthro- 
pological Interest. — Sir C. H. Read {Chairman), Mr. E. N. Fallaize [Secretary], 
Dr. G. A. Auden, Dr. H. 0. Forbes, Mr. E. Heawood, Prof. J. L. Myres. 

To conduct Archseological and Ethnological Researches in Crete. — Dr. D. G. Hogarth 
(Chairman), Prof. J. L. Myres (Secretary), Prof. R. C. Bosanquet, Dr. W. L. H. 
Duckworth, Sir A. Evans, Sir W. Ridgeway, Dr. F. C. Shrubsall. 

To co-operate with Local Committees in excavation on Roman Sites in Britain. — 
Sir W. Ridgeway (Chairman), Mr. H. J. E. Peake (Secretary), Dr. T. Ashby, Mr. 
Willoughby Gardner, Prof. J. L. Myres. 

To report on the present state of knowledge of the Ethnography and Anthropology 
of the Near and Middle East. — Dr. A. C. Haddon (Chairman), Mr. S. Casson 
(Secretary), Prof. H. J. Fleure, Mr. H. J. E. Peake. 

To report on the present state of knowledge of the relation of early Palseolithio 
Instruments to Glacial Deposits. — Mr. H. J. E. Peake (Chairman), Mr. E. N. 
Fallaize (Secretary), Mr. H. Balfour, Mr. M. Burkitt. 

To investigate the Lake Villages in the neighbourhood of Glastonbury in connection 
with a Committee of the Somerset Archaeological and Natural History Society. — 
Sir W. Boyd Dawkins (Chairman), Mr. A. Bulleid (Secretary), Mr. H. Balfour, 
Mr. Willoughby Gardner, Mr. F. S. Palmer, Mr. H. Peake. 

To co-operate with a Committee of the Roya! Anthropological Institute in the explor- 
ation of Caves in the Derbyshire district. — Sir W. Boyd Dawkins (Chairman), 
Mr. G. A. Garfitt (Secretary), Mr. Leslie Armstrong, Mr. E. N. Fallaize, Dr. 
R. R. Marett, Mr. H. Peake, Dr. W. M. Tattersall. 


The Place of Psychology in the Medical Curriculum. — Prof. G. Robertson (Chairman), 
Dr. W. Brown (Secretary), Dr. J. Drever, Dr. R. G. Gordon, Dr. C. S. Myers, Prof. 
J. H. Pear, Dr. W. H. R. Rivers. 

Vocational Tests. — Dr. C. S. Myers (Chairman), Dr. G. H. Miles (Secretary), Prof. 
J. H. Pear, Mr. F. Watts. 


Experimental Studies in the Ph3'siology of Heredity. — Dr. F. F. Blackman (Chairman), 
Miss E. R. Saunders (Secretary), Profs. Bateson and Keeble. £25, subject to 
result of application elsewhere. 

To continue Breeding Experiments on Oenothera and other Genera. — Dr. A. B. 
Rendle (Chairman), Dr. R. R. Gates (Secretary), Prof. W. Bateson, Mr. W. 
Brierley, Prof. 0. V. Darbishire, Dr. M. C. Rayner. £7. 5s. 

Primary Botanical Survey in Wales. — Dr. E. N. Miles Thomas (Chairman), Prof. 
0. V. Darbishire (Secretary), Miss A. J. Davey. Prof. F. W. Oliver, Prof. 
Stapledon, Mr. A. G. Tansley, Miss E. Vachell, Miss Wortham. £10. 

The Renting of Cinchona Botanic Station in Jamaica. — Prof. F. 0. Bower, 
(Chairman), Prof. A. J. Ewart (Secretary), Prof. F. F. Blackman. 


Training in Citizenship. — Rt. Rev. J. E. C. Welldon (Chairman), Lady Shaw (Secretary), 
Sir R. Baden-Powell, Mr. C. H. Blakiston, Mr. G. D. Dunkerley. Mr. W. D. Eggar, 
Mr. C. R. Fay, Mr. .1. C. Maxwell Garnett, Sir R. A. Gregory, and Sir 
T. Morison. £10. 

c 2 


To inquire into the Practicability of an International Auxiliary Language. — Dr. H. 
Foster Morley {Chairman), Dr. E. H. Tripp {Secretary), Mr. E. Bullough, Prof. 
J. J. Findlay, Sir Richard Gregory, Mr. W. B. Hardy, Dr. C. W. Kimmins, 
Sir E. Cooper Perry, Mr. Nowell Smith, Mr. A. E. Twentyman. £5. 

The Influence of School Books upon Eyesight. — Dr. G. A. Auden {Chairman), Mr. 
G. F. Daniell {Secretary), Mr. C. H. Bothamley, Mr. W. D. Eggar, Sir R. A. 
Gregory, Dr. N. Bishop Harman, Mr. J. L. Holland, Dr. W. E. Sumpner, 
and Mr. Trevor Walsh. 


Corresponding Societies Committee for the preparation of their Report. — Mr. W. 
Whitaker {Chairman), Mr. W. Mark Webb {Secretary), Mr. P. J. Ashton, Dr. F. A. 
Bather, Rev. J. 0. Bevan, Sir Edward Brabrook, Sir H. G. Fordham, Mr. T. 
Sheppard, Rev. T. R. R. Stebbing, Mr. Mark L. Sykes, and the President and 
General Officers of the Association. £40. 

To take steps to obtain Kent's Cavern for the Nation. — Mr. W. Whitaker {Chairman), 
Mr. W. M. Webb {Secretary), Prof. Sir W. Boyd Dawkins, Mr. Mark L. Sykes. 


Appointed by the General Committee to co-opemte ivith tlie Carnegie 
United Kingdom Trust in preparing the Scientific Sections of a 
Nucleus Catalogue of Books for the use of Rural Libraries. 

Section B (Chemistry). — Prof. C. H. Desch {Chairman), Dr. A. Holt (Secretary), 
Dr. C. H. Keane. 

Section C (Geology). — Dr. J. S. Flett (Chairman), Mr. W. Whitaker (Secretary), 
Dr. J. W. Evans. 

Section D (Zoology). — Sir S. F. Hanner (Chairman), Dr. W. T. Caiman (Secretary), 
Prof. J. H. Ashworth, Dr. P. Chalmers Mitchell. 

Section E (Geography). — Dr. H. R. Mill (Chairman), Dr. R. N. Rudmose Brown 
(Secretary), Mr. G. G. Chisholm, Mr. 0. J. R. Howarth, Dr. Marion Newbigin. 

Section F (Economics).— Prof. E. Cannan (Convener), Prof. H. M. Hallsworth, 
Miss Jebb. 

Section H (Anthropology). — Dr. E. S. Hartland (Chairman), Mr. E. N. Fallaize 
(Secretary), Mr. W. Crooke, Prof. H. J. Fleure. 

Section I (Physiology). — Prof. H. E. Roaf (Chairman), Dr. C. Lovatt Evans 

Section J (Psychology). — Dr. J. Drever (Chairman), Miss Bickersteth (Secretary), 
Dr. H. J. Watt. 

Section K (Botany). — Dr. H. W. T. Wager (Chairman), Mr. F. T. Brooks (Secretary), 
Prof. W. Neilson Jones, Prof. F. E. Weiss. 

Section L (Education). — Dr. A. Darroch (Chairman), Prof. J. A. Green (Secretary), 
Prof. T. P. Nunn. 



An unconditional gift of £10,000 was made to the Association at the 
Dundee Meeting, 1912, by Mr. (afterwards Sir) J. K. Caird, LL.D., of 

The Council, in its report to the General Committee at the Birming- 
ham Meeting, made certain recommendations as to the administration 
of this Fund. These recommendations were adopted, with the Eeport, 
by the General Committee at its meeting on September 10, 1913. 

The following allocations have been made from the Fund by the 
Council to September 1921 : — 

Naples Zoological Station Committee (p. xxxiii). — £50 (1912-13) ; 
£100 (1913-14) ; £100 annually in future, subject to the adoption of 
the Committee's report (reduced to £50 during war ; suspended, 
1920-21, pending approval by Council of Committee's report on future 
control of the Station, etc.). 

Seismology Committee (p. xxxi). — £100 (1913-14) ; £100 annually in 
future, subject to the adoption of the Committee's report. 

Badiotelegraphic Committee (p. xxxii). — £500 (1913-14). 

Magnetic Be-survey of the British Isles (in collaboration with the 
Eoyal Society).— £250. 

Committee on Determination of Gravity at Sea (p. xxxii). — £100 

31r. F. Sargent, Bristol University, in connection ivith his Astro- 
nomical Work.— £10 (1914). 

Organising Committee of Section F (Economics), towards expenses of 
an Inquiry into Outlets for Labour after the War. — £100 (1915). 

Bev. T. E. B. Phillips, for aid in transplanting his private observa- 
tory. —&<2.0 (1915). 

Committee onFuel Economy (p. xxxii).— £25 (1915-16), £10 (1919-20). 

Committee on Training in Citizenship) (p. xxxv). — £10 (1919-20). 

Geophysical Committee of Boyal Astronomical Society. — £10 (1920). 

Conjoint Board of Scientific Societies.— £10 (1920) ; £10 (1921). 

Marine Biological Association, Plymouth. — £200 (1921). 

On September 7, 1921, the Council authorised the expenditure of 
£300 from accumulated income of the fund upon grants to Eesearch 
Committees approved by the General Committee at the Edinburgh 
Meeting, in addition to grants ordinarily made by, or applied for from, 
the Council. 

Sir J. K. Caird, on September 10, 1913, made a further gift of £1,000 
to the Association, to be devoted to the study of Eadio-activity. In 
1920 the Council decided to devote the principal and interest of this gift 
at the rate of £250 per annum for five years to purposes of the research 
intended. The grant for the year ending March 24, 1922, was made to 
Sir E, Eutherford, F.E.S, 



The following Resolutions and Recommendations were referred to 
the Council (unless otherwise stated) by the General Committee at 
Edinburgh for consideration and, if desirable, for action : — 

By the General Committee. 

That the General Committee commends the action of the Council in encourag- 
ing arrangements for joint discussions on subjects of interest to two or more 

From Section B. 

That in the opinion of the Sectional Committee it is desirable that all 
Reports of Research Committees should be sent, in the first instance, to the 
Organising Committee of the appropriate Section (through the Recorder) before 
the Annual Meeting. 

From Section B. 

The Sectional Committee recommends the re-appointment of the Fuel Economy 
Committee. The Sectional Committee requests the General Committee to inform 
the Council that, whilst in the opinion of some of the members of the Sectional 
Committee the present position of the Fuel Economy Committee is not satis- 
factory, it has been thought undesirable, in the enforced absence of Professor 
Bone, to enter into a detailed consideration of the subject. The Sectional 
Committee recommends the publication of the Fourth Report of the Fuel 
Economy Committee. 

From Sections E and L. 

To draw the attention of the Council to the Revised Regulations for 
Secondary Schools, England, 1921, so far as they concern instruction in 
Geogrtiphy, and to ask the Council to take the necessary steps to ascertain : — 

1. Whether the effect of the new regulations is to ensure the continuity of 

instruction in Geography up to the age of 16 (as appears to 
be provided in page 7, pars. 6 and 7). 

2. Whether it is the intention of the Board that the phrase ' language, 

literature, and history ' in 48 («) B, C, D, in the absence of specific 
reference to the Geography of selected countries, should be construed 
as necessarily including adequate geographical study of the selected 

3. Whether the Board accepts Geography as a ' main subject of study ' 

under Sub-section A, Science and Mathematics. 

(In view of the urgency of the above resolution, the General Committee 
instructed the General Secretaries to take action upon it and report to the 

From Section E. 

That the Council recommend that the Census authorities of the United 
Kingdom should, if practicable, indicate in their final report the population 
not merely of municipal and other administrative areas, but also of urban 

(In view of the urgency of the above resolution, the General Committee 
instructed the General Secretaries to take action upon it and report to the 


From Section E , 

The Committee of Section E suggests that the Council of the Association 
sliould ask the Air Ministry to be kind enough to supply the Council with a 
detailed statement, giving the reasons for the adoption of Mercator's projec- 
tion for the international series of aeronautical maps. 

From Section H. 

That it is in the interests of the Empire that a knowledge of Anthropology 
should be more widely disseminated ; 

That for this purpose Universities and other institutions be encouraged to 
provide instruction in this subject ; 

And, further, that there should be a central institution in London, not 
necessarily new, for the collection, co-ordination, and publication of the results 
of anthropological research, and the provision of information derived therefrom, 
for the use of the Imperial Services, teachers, missionaries, and others ; 

That the Council of the Association, in conjunction with other bodies 
interested, be requested to consider the advisability of taking such steps as 
may be necessary to secure this end. 

From Section L. 

The Committee of Section L recommends the Council to call the attention 
of the Board of Education to the desirability of strengthening the position of 
Music, and its appreciation, in the curriculum of Secondary Schools. 

From the Conference of Delegates (a) and Section L (b). 

(a) That the Council be asked to represent to the Postmaster-General the 
very heavy burden which the postage of their publications and notices entails 
upon scientific societies, and to request him to alleviate it at the earliest 
possible moment. 

(/;) That Section L, whilst believing it to be useless to appeal to the Post- 
master-General to reduce the cost of postage on scientific publications, recom- 
mend the Council to appeal to the Presidents of the Royal Society and other 
scientific bodies to approach the Postmaster-General, urging him that scien- 
tific publications may be registered for postage reduction. 



Sections A and B. — Report of Joint Discussion on the Structure of 
Molecules. (See p. 468.) 

Section A. — Report of Discussion on the Quantum Theory. (See p. 473.) 

Section A. — Extended Abstract of Professor J. C. Kapteyn's Paper on ' The 
Structure and Motions of the Stellar Systems.' (See p. 409.) 

Section L.— Dr. E. H. Griffiths'? Paper on ' Science and Ethics.' (See p. 479.) 

7 JUN22 







SirT. EDWAED THORPE, C.B., D.Sc, Sc.D., LL.D., F.E.S., 

Hon. F.R.S., Edin., 


The British Association for the Advancement of Science owes its origin, 
and, in great measure, its specific aims and functions, to the pubUc 
spirit and zeal for the interests of science of Scotsmen. Its virtual 
founder was Sir David Brewster ; its scope and character were defined by 
Principal Forbes. In constitution it differed from the migratory scientific 
associations existing on the Continent, which mainly servp I to promote 
the social intercourse of their members by annual gatherings, in that 
it was to be a permanent organisation, with a settled establishment and 
headquarters, which should have not merely its yearly reunions, but 
which, ' by methods and by influence peculiarly its own, should con- 
tinue to operate during the intervals of these public assemblies, and 
should aspire to give an impulse to every part of the scientific system ; 
to mature scientific enterprise; and to direct the labours requisite for 
discovery. ' 

Although, for reasons of policy, it was decided that its first meeting 
of September 27, 1831, should be held at York, as the most central 
city for the three kingdoms, and its second and third meetings at the 
ancient Universities of Oxford and Cambridge respectively, it was 
inevitable that the Association should seize the earliest opportunity 
to visit the Metropolis of Scotland where, as an historical fact, it may 
be said to have had its origin. 

The meeting in this city of September 8, 1834, was noteworthy for 
many reasons. It afforded the first direct proof that the Association 
was fulfilling its purpose. This was shown by the popular appreciation 
which attended its activities, by the range and character of its reports 
on the state and progress of science, by the interest and value of its 
sectional proceedings, and by the mode in which its funds were 
employed. In felicitous terms the President of the preceding year, the 
Eev. Professor Sedgwick, congratulated the gathering 'on the in- 
creased strength in which they had assembled, in a place endeared to the 
feelings of every lover of science by so many delightful and elevating 


recollections, especially by the recollection of the great men whom 
it had fostered, or to whom it had given birth. ' In a few brief sentences 
Professor Sedgwick indicated the great power which this Association 
is able to apply towards the advancement of science by combination and 
united action, and he supported his argument by pointing to the results 
which it had already achieved during the three short years of its 
existence. Professor Sedgwick's words are no less true to-day. His 
contention that one of the most important functions of this philosophical 
union is to further what he termed the ' commerce of ideas ' by joint 
discussions on subjects of kindred interest, has been endorsed by the 
recent action of the Council in bringing the various sections into still 
closer touch with each other with a view to the discussion of common 
problems of general interest. This slight reorganisation of the work 
of the Sections, which is in entire accord with the spirit and aims of the 
Association, as defined by its progenitors and formulated in its consti- 
tution, will take effect during the present meeting. Strictly speaking, 
such joint sectional discussions are not unknown in our history, and 
their utility and influence have been freely recognised. But hitherto 
the occasions have been more or less informal. They are now, it is 
hoped, to be part of the regular of&cial procedure of the meetings, 
to which it is anticipated they will afford additional interest and value. 

Another noteworthy change in our procedure is the introduction of 
discussions on the addresses of the Presidents of Sections. Hitherto 
these addresses have been formally read and never discussed. To the 
extent that they have been brief chronicles of the progress of the special 
departments of science with which the section is concerned they have 
given but little opportunity for discussion. With the greatly increased 
facilities which now exist for every worker to keep himself informed 
of the development of the branch of knowledge in which he is more 
particularly interested, such resumes have in great measure lost their 
true purpose, and there has, consequently, been a growing tendency of 
late years for such presidential addresses to deal with contemporary 
topics of general interest and of fundamental importance, affording ample 
opportunity for a free exchange of opinion. The experiment will cer- 
tainly conduce to the interest of the proceedings of the sections, and will 
contribute to the permanent value of their work. We see in these several 
changes the development of ideas connected with the working of the 
Association which may be said to have had their birth at its first meeting 
in Edinburgh, eighty-seven years ago. 

Sixteen years later, that is on July 21, 1850, Edinburgh again 
extended her hospitality to the British Association, which then honoured 
itself by electing the learned Principal of the United Colleges of St. 
Salvator and St. Leonard, St. Andrews^ to the presidential chair — at 
once a tribute to Sir David Brewster's eminence as a natural philo- 


sopher, and a grateful recognition of his services to this body in 
suggesting and pi'omoting its formation. 

On the occasion of his inaugural address, after a brief account of 
recent progress in science, made with the lucidity of expression which 
characterised all the literary efforts of the learned biographer of Newton 
and versatile editor of the Ed'mburgh Encyclopedia, the Edinburgh 
Magazine, and the Edinburgh Journal of Science, the President dwelt 
upon the beneficent influence of the Association in securing a more 
general attention to the objects of science, and in effecting a removal 
of disadvantages of a public kind tliat impeded its progress. It was 
largely to the action of the Association, assisted by the writings and 
personal exertions of its members, that the Government was induced 
to extend a direct national encouragement to science and to aid in its 


Brewster had a lofty ideal of the place of science in the intellectual 
life of a community, and of the just position of the man of science 
in the social scale. In well-weighed words, the outcome of matured 
experience and of an intimate knowledge of the working of European 
institutions created for the advancement of science and the diffusion 
of knowledge, he pleaded for the establishment of a national institution 
in Britain, possessing a class of resident members who should devote 
themselves wholly to science — wdth a place and station in society the 
most respectable and independent — 'free alike,' as Play fair put it, 
' from the embarrassments of poverty or the temptations of wealth.' 
Such men, ' ordained by the State to the undivided functions of science,' 
would, he contended, do more and better work than those who snatch 
an hour or two from their daily toil or nightly i-est. 

This ideal of ' combining what is insulated, and uniting in one great 
institution the living talent which is in active but undirected and un- 
befriended exercise around us,' was not attained during Brewster's time; 
nor, notwithstanding the reiteration of incontrovertible argument during 
the past seventy years, has it been reached in our own. 

I have been led to dwell on Sir David Brewster's association with this 
question of the relations of the State towards research for several 
reasons. Although he was not the first to raise it — for Davy more 
than a century ago made it the theme of presidential addresses, and 
brought his social influence to bear in the attempt to enlist the practical 
sympathy of the Government — no one more consistently urged its 
national importance, or supported his case with a more powerful advo- 
cacy, than the Principal of the University of Edinburgh. It is only 
seemly, therefore, that on this particular occasion, and in this city of 
his adoption, where he spent so much of his intellectual energy, I 
should specially allude to it. Moreover, we can never forget what this 
Association owes to his large and fruitful mind. Every man is a 


debtor to his profession, from which he gains countenance and profit. 
That Brewster was an ornament to his is acknowledged by every lover 
of learning. That he endeavoured to be a help to it was gratefully 
recognised during his lifetime. After his death it was said of him that 
the improved position of men of science in our time is chiefly due to 
his exertions and his example. 

I am naturally led to connect the meeting of 1850 with a still more 
memorable gathering of this Association in this city. In August 1871 — 
just over half a century ago — the British Association again assembled in 
Edinburgh under the presidency of Lord Kelvin — then Sir William 
Thomson. It was an historic occasion by reason of the address which 
inaugurated its proceedings. Lord Kelvin, with characteristic force and 
insistence, still further elaborated the theme which had been so signal 
a feature of Sir David Brewster's address twenty years previously: 
' Whether we look to the honour of England, ' he said, ' as a nation which 
ought always to be the foremost in promoting physical science, or to 
those vast economical advantages which must accrue from such estab- 
lishments, we cannot but feel that experimental research ought to be 
made with us an object of national concern, and not left, as hitherto, 
exclusively to the private enterprise of self-sacrificing amateurs, and 
the necessarily inconsecutive action of our present Governmental 
Departments and of casual committees.' 

Lord Kelvin, as might have been anticipated, pleaded more especi- 
ally for the institution of physical observatories and laboratories for 
experimental research, to be conducted by qualified persons, whose 
duties should be not teaching, but experimenting. Such institutions 
as then existed, he pointed out, only afforded a very partial and inade- 
quate solution of a national need. They were, for the most part, 
' absolutely destitute of means, material, or personnel for advancing 
science, except at the expense of volunteers, or of securing that volun- 
teers should be found to continue such little work as could then be 
carried on. ' 

There were, however, even then, signs that the bread cast upon the 
waters was slowly returning after many days. The establishment of 
the Cavendish Laboratory at Cambridge, by the munificence of its then 
Chancellor, was a notable achievement. Whilst in its constitution 
as part of a university discipline it did not wholly realise the ideal of the 
two Presidents, under its successive directors. Prof. Clerk-Maxwell, the 
late Lord Eayleigh, and Sir J. J. Thomson, it has exerted a profound in- 
fluence upon the development of experimental physics, and has inspired 
the foundation of many similar educational institutions in this country. 
Experimental physics has thus received an enormous impetus during the 
last fi'fty years, and although in matters of science there is but little 
folding of the hands to sleep, ' the divine discontent ' of its followers 


has little cause for disquietude as regards the position of physics in this 

In the estabhshment of the National Physical Laboratory we have 
an approach to the ideal which my predecessors had so earnestly advo- 
cated. Other Presidents, among whom I would specially name the late 
Sir Douglas Galton, have contributed to this consummation. The 
result is a remarkable testimony to the value of organised and continuous 
effort on the part of the British Association in forming public opinion 
and in influencing Departmental action. It would, however, be ungrate- 
ful not to recall the action of the late I^ord Salisbury — himself a 
follower of science and in full sympathy with its objects — in taking 
the first practical steps towards the creation of this magnificent national 
institution. I may be allowed, perhaps, to refer to this matter, as 1 
have personal knowledge of the circumstances, being one of the few 
survivors of the Committee which Lord Salisbury caused to be formed, 
under the chairmanship of the late Lord Eayleigh, to inquire and report 
upon the expediency of establishing an institution in Great Britam 
upon the model of certain State-aided institutions already existing on 
the Continent, for the determination of physical constants of importance 
in the arts, for investigations in physical problems bearing upon 
industry, for the standardisation and verification of physical instru- 
ments, and for the general purposes of metrology. I do not profess 
to give the exact terras of the reference to the Committee, but, in sub- 
stance, these were recognised to be the general aims of the contemplated 
institute. The evidence we received from many men of science, from 
Departmental officers, and from representatives of engineering and other 
industrial establishments, was absolutely unanimous as to the great 
public utility of the projected laboratory. It need hardly be said that 
the opportunity called forth all the energy and power of advocacy of 
Lord Kelvin, and I well remember with what strength of conviction he 
impressed his views upon the Committee. That the National Physical 
Laboratory has, under the ability, organising power, and busmess 
capacity of its first director, Sir Eichard Glazebrook, abundantly justified 
its creation is recognised on all hands. Its services during the four 
years of war alone are sufficient proof of its national value. It has 
grown to be a large and rapidly increasing establishment, occupying 
itself with an extraordinary range of subjects, with a numerous and 
well-qualified staff, engaged in determinative and research work on 
practically every branch of pure and applied physics. The I'ange 
of its activities has been further increased by the estabhshment since 
the war of co-ordinating research boards for physics, chemistry, 
engineering and radio-research. Government Departments have 
learned to appreciate its services. The photometry division, for 
example, has been busy on experiments on navigation lamps for the 


Board of Trade, on miners' lamps for the Home Office and on motor- 
car head-lamps for the Ministry of Transport, and on the lighting 
of the National Gallery and the Houses of Parliament. Important 
work has been done on the forms of ships, on the steering and 
manoeuvring of ships, on the effect of waves on ship resistance, on the 
interaction between passing ships, on seaplane floats, and on the 
hulls of flying-boats. 

It is also actively engaged in the study of problems connected with 
aviation, and has a well-ordered department for aerodynamical research. 

It can already point to a long and valuable series of published re- 
searches, which are acknowledged to be among the most important 
contributions to pure and applied physics which this country has made 
during recent years. 

I may be pardoned, I hope, for another personal reference, if I 
recall that it was at the Edinburgh meeting, under Lord Kelvin's presi- 
dency, fifty years ago, that I first became a member of this Association, 
and had the honour of serving it as one of the secretaries of its chemical 
section. Fifty years is a considerable span in the life of an individual, 
but it is a relatively short period in the history of science. Nevertheless, 
those fifty years are richer in scientific achievement and in the impor- 
tance and magnitude of the utilitarian applications of practically every 
branch of science than any preceding similar interval. The most 
cursory comparison of the state of science, as revealed in his compre- 
hensive address, with the present condition of those departments on 
which he chiefly dwelt, will suffice to show that the development has 
been such that even Lord Kelvin's penetrative genius, vivid imagina- 
tion, and sanguine temperament could hardly have anticipated. No 
previous half-century in the history of science has witnessed such 
momentous and far-reaching achievements. In pure chemistry it has 
seen the discovery of argon by Eayleigh, of radium by Madame Curie, 
of helium as a terrestrial element by Eamsay, of neon, xenon, and 
krypton by Ramsay and Travers, the production of helium from radium 
by Eamsay and Soddy, and the isolation of fluorine by Moissan. 
These are undoubtedly great discoveries, but their value is enormously 
enhanced by the theoretical and practical consequences which flow 
from them. 

In applied chemistry it has witnessed the general application of the 
Gilchrist-Thomas process of iron-purification, the production of calcium 
cyanamide by the process of Frank and Caro, Sabatier's process of 
hydrogenation, a widespread apphcation of hquefied gases, and Haber's 
work on ammonia synthesis — all manufacturing processes which have 
practically revolutionised the industries with which they are con- 

In pure physics it has seen the rise of the electron theory, by 


Lorentz ; Hertz's discovery of electro-magnetic waves ; the investigation 
of cathode rays by Lenard, and the elucidation of crystal structure by 


It has seen, moreover, the invention of the telephone, the establish- 
ment of incandescent lighting, the electric transmission of force, the 
invention of the cinematograph, of wireless telegraphy, the application 
of the Eontgen rays, and the photographic reproduction of colour. 

In physical chemistry it has witnessed the creation of stereo- 
chemistry by Van t'Hoff and Le Bel, Gibbs' work on the phase rule. 
Van t'Hoff "s theory of solutions, AiThenius's theory of ionic dissocia- 
tion, and Nernst's theory of the galvanic cell. 

Such a list is far from complete, and might be greatly extended. 
But it will at least serve to indicate the measure of progress which the 
world owes to the development and application during the last fifty 
years of the two sciences — physics and chemistry — to which Lord 
Kelvin specially referred. 

The more rapid dissemination of information concerning the results 
of recent or contemporary investigation, which Lord Kelvin so strongly 
urged as ' an object to which the powerful action of the British Asso- 
ciation would be thoroughly appropriate,' has been happily accomplished. 
The timely aid of the Association in contributing to the initial expense of 
preparing and publishing monthly abstracts of foreign chemical 
literature by the Chemical Society is gratefully remembered by British 
chemists. The example has been followed by the greater number of 
our scientific and technical societies, and the results of contemporary 
inquiry in every important branch of pure and applied science are now 
quickly brought to the knowledge of all interested workers. In fact, 
as regards the particular branch of science with which I am more 
directly concerned, the arrangements for the preparation and dissemina- 
tion of abstracts of contemporary foreign chemical literature are 
proving to be a veritable embarrassment of riches, and there is much 
need for co-operation among the various distributing societies. This 
need is especially urgent at the pi-eseni time owing to the greatly 
increased cost of pajier, printing, binding, and indeed of every item 
connected with publication, which expense, of course, ultimately falls 
upon the various societies and their members. The problem, which 
has already received some attention from those entrusted with the 
management of the societies referred to, is not without its difficulties, 
but these are not insoluble. There is little doubt that a resolute and 
unanimous effort to find a solution would meet with success. 

The present high cost of book production, which in the case of 
specialised books is about three times what it was in 1914, is exercising a 
most prejudicial effect upon the spread of scientific knowledge. Books 
on science are not generally among the ' best sellers. ' They appeal to a 


comparatively limited and not particularly wealthy public, largely com- 
posed of the professional classes who have suffered in no small measure 
from the economic effects of the War. The present high price of this 
class of literature is to the public detriment. Eventually it is no less to 
the detriment of the printing and publishing trades. Publishers are well 
aware of this fact, and attempts are being made by discussions between 
employers and the executives of the Typographical Association and other 
societies of compositors to reach an equitable solution, and it is greatly 
to be hoped that it will be speedily found. 

All thinking men ai'e agreed that science is at the basis of national 
progress. Science can only develop by research. Research is the 
mother of discovery, and discovery of invention. The industrial 
position of a nation, its manufactures and commerce, and ultimately its 
wealth, depend upon invention. Its welfare and stability largely rest 
upon the equitable distribution of its wealth. All this seems so obvious, 
and has been so frequently and so convincingly stated, that it is super- 
fluous to dwell upon it in a scientific gathering to-day. 

A late distinguished Admiral, you may remember, insisted on the 
value of reiteration. On this particular question it was never more 
needed than now. The crisis through which we have recently passed 
requires it in the interests of national welfare. Of all post-war 
problems to engage our serious attention, none is more important in 
regard to our position and continued existence than the nation's attitude 
towards science and scientific research, and there is no more opportune 
time than the present in which to seek to enforce the teaching of one 
of the most pregnant lessons of our late experience. 

It is, unfortunately, only too true that the industrial world has in 
the past underrated the value of research. One indication that the 
nation is at length aroused to its importance is to be seen in the estab- 
lishment of the Department of Scientific and Industrial Eesearch, with 
its many subordinate associations. The outbreak of the Great War, 
and much in its subsequent history, revealed, as we all know, many 
national shortcomings, due to our indifference to and actual neglect of 
many things which are at the root of our prosperity and security. 
During the War, and at its close, various attempts, more or less un- 
connected, were made to find a remedy. Of the several committees 
and boards which were set up, those which still exist have now been 
co-ordinated, and brought under the control of a central organisation — 
the Department of Scientific and Industrial Eesearch. Eesearch has 
now become a national and State-aided object. For the first time in our 
history its pursuit with us has been organised by Government action. 
As thus organised it seeks to fulfil the aspirations to which I have 
referred, whilst meeting many of the objections which have been urged 
against the endowment of research. It must be recognised that modern 


ideas of democracy ai'e adverse to the creation of places to which 
definite work is not assigned and from which definite results do not 
emanate. This objection, which strikes at the root of the establish- 
ment of such an institution as Sir David Brewster contemplated, is, to 
a large extent, obviated by the scheme of the Department of Scientific 
and Industrial Eesearch. It does not prescribe or fetter research, but, 
whilst aiding by personal payments the individual worker, leaves him 
free to pursue his inquiry as he thinks best. Grants are made, on the 
recommendation of an Advisory Council of experts, to research workers 
in educational institutions and elsewhere, in order to promote research 
of high character on fundamental problems of pure science or in suitable 
cases on problems of applied science. Of the boards and committees and 
similar ojganisations established prior to or during the AVar, or subse- 
quent to it, with one or two exceptions, all are now directly under the 
Department. They deal with a wide range of subjects, such as the 
Building Eesearch Board, established early in 1920 to organise and 
supervise investigations on building materials and construction, to study 
structural failures, and to fix standards for structural materials. The 
Food Investigation Board deals with the preservation by cold of food, 
and with the engineering problems of cold storage, with the chemistry 
of putrefaction, and the agents which induce it, with the bionomics of 
moulds, and the chemistiy of edible oils and fats. The Fuel Eesearch 
Board is concerned with the immediate importance of fuel economy 
and with investigations of the questions of oil-fuel for the Navy 
and Mercantile Marine, the survey of the national coal resources, 
domestic heating, air pollution, pulverised fuel, utilisation of peat, the 
search for possible substitutes for natural fuel oil, and for practicable 
sources of power alcohol. 

The Geological Survey Board has taken over the Geological Survey 
of Great Britain and the control of the Museum of Practical Geology. 
The maintenance of the National Physical Laboratory, originally con- 
trolled by a General Board and an Executive Committee appointed by 
the President and Council of the Eoyal Society, is now transferred to 
the Department of Scientific and Industrial Eesearch. A Mines 
Eesearch Committee and a Mine Eescue Apparatus Committee are 
attached to the Department. The former is concerned with such ques- 
tions as the detemiination of the geotliermic gradient, the influence of 
temperature of intake and return air on strata, the effect of seasonal 
changes on strata temperature of intakes, the cooling effect due to tlie 
evolution of fire-damp, heat production from the oxidation of timber, 
etc. The Department is also directing inquiries on the preservation 
and restoration of antique objects deposited in the British Museum. It 
is concerned with the gauging of rivers and tidal currents, with special 
reference to a hydrographical survey of Great Britain in relation to 

1921 ^ 


the national resources of water-power. In accordance with the 
Government policy, four co-ordinating boards have been established to 
organise scientific work in connection with the fighting forces, so as to 
avoid unnecessary overlapping and to provide a single direction and 
financial control. The four boards deal, respectively, with chemical 
and physical problems, problems of radio-research, and engineering. 
These boards have attached to them various committees dealing with 
special inquiries, some of which will be carried out at the National 
Physical Laboratory. The Government have also authorised the 
establishment of a Forest Products Eesearch Board. 

The Department is further empowered to assist learned or scientific 
societies and institutions in carrying out investigations. Some of these 
were initiated prior to the War, and were likely to be abandoned owing 
to lack of funds. Whenever the investigation has a direct bearing upon 
a particular industry that had not hitherto been able to establish a 
Research Association, it has been a condition of a grant that the institu- 
tion directing the research should obtain contributions towards the cost 
on a £ for £ basis, either directly through its corporate funds or by 
special subscriptions from interested firms. On the formation of the 
appi'opriate association the research is, under suitable safeguards, trans- 
ferred to it for continuance. The formation of a number of Eesearch 
Associations has thus been stimulated, dealing, for example, with 
scientific instruments, non-ferrous metals, glass, silk, refractories, 
electrical and allied industries, pottery, etc. 

Grants are made to Eesearch Associations formed voluntarily by 
manufacturers for the purposes of research, from a fund of a million 
sterling, placed at the disposal of the Eesearch Department for this 
purpose. Such Associations, to be eligible for the grant, must submit 
Articles of Association for the approval of the Department and the 
Board of Trade. If these are approved, licences are issued by the 
Board of Trade recognising the Associations as limited liability com- 
panies working without profits. Subscriptions paid to an Association 
by contributing firms are recognised by the Board of Inland Eevenue 
as business costs of the firms, and are not subject to income or excess 
profits taxes. The income of the Association is similarly free of income 
tax. Grants are ordinarily made to these .\ssociations on the basis of 
£1 for every £1 raised by the Association between limits depending 
upon the particular industry concerned. In the case of two Eesearch 
Associations grants are made at a higher rate than £ for £, as these 
industries are regarded as having a special claim to State assistance on 
account of their ' pivotal ' character. The results of research are the 
sole property of the Association making them, subject to certain rights 
of veto possessed by the Department for the purposes of ensuring that 
they are not communicated to foreign countries, except with the consent 


of the Department, and that they may be made available to other inter- 
ested industries and to the Government itself on suitable terms. 

These arrangements have been found to be generally satisfactoiy, 
and at the present time twenty-four of such Research Associations have 
been formed to whom licences have been issued by the Board of Trade. 
Others are in process of formation, and may be expected to be at work 
at an early date. These Research Associations are concerned with 
nearly all our leading industries. The official addresses of most of, 
them are in London; others have their headquarters in Manchester, 
Leeds, Sheffield, Birmingham, Northampton, Coventry, Glasgow, and 

The Department has further established a Records Bureau, which is 
responsible for receiving, abstracting, filing and collating communica- 
tions from research workers, boards, institutions, or associations 
related to or supervised by the Department. This information is 
regarded as confidential, and will not be communicated except in 
writing, and after consultation with the research worker or organisation 
from which it has been received. Also such non-confidential informa- 
tion as comes into the possession of the Department which is of evident 
or probable value to those working in touch with the Department is 
collected and filed in the Bureau and made generally available. 

It is also a function of the Bureau to effect economy in preventing 
repetition and overlapping of investigations and in ensuring that the 
fullest possible use is made of the results of research. Thus, the 
programmes of Research Associations are compared in order to ensure 
that researches are not unwittingly duplicated by different Research 
Associations. Sometimes two or more Research Associations may be 
interested in one problem from different points of view, and when this 
occurs it may be possible for the Bureau to arrange a concerted attack 
upon the common problem, each Research Association undertaking that 
phase of the work in which it is specially interested and sharing in the 
general results. 

As researciies carried out under the Department frequently produce 
results for which it is possible to take out patents, careful consideration 
has been given to the problems of policy arising on this subject, and 
other Government Departments also interested have been freely con- 
sulted. As the result, an Inter-Departmental Committee has been 
established with the following terms of reference : — 

(1) To consider the methods of dealing with inventions made by 
workers aided or maintained from public funds, whether such 
workers be engaged (a) as research workers, or {b) in some 
other technical capacity, so as to give a fair reward to the 
inventor and thus encourage further effort, to secure the 

D ?. 


utilisation in industry of suitable inventions and to protect the 
national interest, and 
(2) To outline a course of procedure in respect of inventions arising 
out of State-aided or supported work which shall further 
these aims and be suitable for adoption by all Government 
Departnjents concerned. 

About forty patents have been taken out by the Department jointly 
with the inventors and other interested bodies, but of these, nine have 
subsequently been abandoned. At least five patents have been developed 
to such a stage as to be ready for immediate industrial application. 

It will be obvious from this short summary of the activities of the 
Department, based upon information kindly supplied to me by Sir 
Francis Ogilvie, that this great scheme of State-aided research has been 
conceived and is administered on broad and liberal lines. A consider- 
able number of valuable reports from its various boards and committees 
have already been published, and others are in the press, but it is, of 
course, much too soon to appreciate the full effects of their operations. 
But it can hardly be doubted that they are bound to exeiT-ise a profound 
influence upon industries which ultimately depend upon discovery and 
invention. The establishment of the Department marks an epoch in 
our history. No such comprehensive organisation for the application 
of science to national needs has ever been created by any other State. 
We may say we owe it directly to the Great War. Even from the 
evil of that great catastrophe there is some soul of goodness would we 
observingly distil it out. 

I turn now to a question of scientific interest which is attracting 
general attention at the present time. It is directly connected with 
Lord Kelvin's address fifty years ago. 

The molecular theory of matter — a theory which in its crudest form 
has descended to us from the earliest times and which has been 
elaborated by various speculative thinkers tin-ough the intervening ages — 
hardly rested upon an e.xperimental basis until within the memory of 
men still living. When Lord Kelvin spoke in 1871, the best-established 
development of the molecular hypothesis was exhibited in the kinetic 
theory of gases as worked out by Joule, Clausius, and Clerk-Maxwell. 
As he then said, no such comprehensive molecular theory had ever 
been even imagined before the nineteenth century. But, with the eye 
of faith, he clearly perceived that, definite and complete in its area as 
it was, it was ' but a well-drawn part of a great chart, in which all 
physical science will be represented with every property of matter 
shown in dynamical relation to the whole. The prospect we now have 
of an early completion of this chart is based on the assumption of atoms. 
But there can be no permanent satisfaction to the mind in explaining 


heat, light, elasticity, diffusion, electricity and magnetism, in gases, 
liquids and solids, and describing precisely the relations of these 
different states of matter to one another by statistics of great numbers 
of atoms when the properties of the atom itself are simply assumed. 
When the theory, of which we have the first instalment in Clausius and 
Maxwell's work, is complete, we are but brought face to face with a 
superlatively grand question: What is the inner mechanism of the 
atom ? ' 

If the properties and affections of matter are dependent upon the 
inner mechanism of the atom, an atomic theory, to be vaUd, must 
comprehend and explain them all. There cannot be one kind of atom 
for the physicist and another for the chemist. The nature of chemical 
affinity and of valency, the modes of their action, the difference in 
characteristics of the chemical elements, even their number, internal 
constitution, periodic position, and possible isotopic rearrangements must 
be accounted for and explained by it. Fifty years ago chemists, for the 
most part, rested in the comfortable belief of the existence of atoms in 
the restricted sense in which Dalton, as a legacy from Newton, had 
imagined them. Lord Kelvin, unhke the chemists, had never been in 
the habit of ' evading questions as to the hardness or indivisibility of 
atoms by virtually assuming them to be infinitely small and infinitely 
nunierous.' Nor, on the other hand, did he realise, with Boscovich, 
tlie atom ' as a mystic point endowed with inertia and the attribute of 
attracting or repelling otlier such centres.' Science advances not so 
much by fundamental alterations in its behefs as by additions to them. 
Dalton would equally have regarded the atom ' as a piece of matter of 
measureable dimensions, with shape, motion, and laws of action, in- 
telligible subjects of scientific investigation.' 

In spite of the fact that the atomic theory, as formulated by Dalton, 
lias been generally accepted for nearly a century, it is only within the 
last few years that physicists have arrived at a conception of the 
structure of the atom sufficiently precise to be of service to chemists in 
connection with the relation between the properties of elements of 
different kinds, and in throwing light on the mechanism of chemical 

This further investigation of the ' superlatively grand question— the 
inner mechanism of the atom "—has profoundly modified the basic 
conceptions of chemistry. It has led to a great extension of our views 
concerning the real nature of the chemical elements. The discovery 
of the electron, the production of helium in the radioactive disintegra- 
tion of atoms, the recognition of the existence of isotopes, the possibility 
that all elementary atoms are comi^osed either of helium atoms or of 
atoms of hydrogen and helium, and that these atoms, in their turn, are 
built up of two constituents, one of which is the electron, a particle of 


negative electricity whose mass is only 1/1800 of that of an atom of 
hydrogen, and the other a particle of positive electricity whose mass is 
practically identical with that of the same atom — the outcome, in short, 
of the collective work of Soddy, Rutherford, J. J. Thomson, Collie, 
Moseley, and others — are pregnant facts which have completely altered 
the fundamental aspects of the science. Chemical philosophy has, in 
fact, now definitely entered on a new phase. 

Looking back over the past, some indications of the coming change 
might have been perceived wholly unconnected, of course, with the 
recent experimental work wliich has served to ratify it. In a short 
paper entitled ' Speculative Ideas respecting the Constitution of 
Matter,' originally published in 1863, Graham conceived that the 
various kinds of matter, now recognised as different elementary sub- 
stances, may possess one and the same ultimate or atomic molecule 
existing in different conditions of movement. This idea, in its essence, 
may be said to be as old as the time of Leucippus. To Graham as to 
Leucippus ' the action of the atom as one substance taking various 
forms by combinations unlimited, was enough to account for all the 
phenomena of the world. By separation and union with constant 
motion all things could be done.' But Graham developed the concep- 
tion by independent thought, and in the light of experimentally ascer- 
tained knowledge which the world owes to his labours. He might have 
been cognisant of the speculations of the Greeks, but there is no evi- 
dence that he was knowingly influenced by them. In his paper Graham 
uses the terms atom and molecule if not exactly in the same sense that 
modern teaching demands, yet very different from that hitherto required 
by the limitations of contemporary chemical doctrine. He conceives 
of a lower order of atoms than the chemical atom of Dalton, and founds 
on his conception an explanation of chemical combination based upon 
a fixed combining measure, which he terms the vietron, its relative 
weight being one for hydrogen, sixteen for oxygen, and so on with the 
other so-called 'elements.' Gr-aham, in fact, like Davy before him, 
never committed himself to a belief in the indivisibility of the Daltonian 
atom. The original atom may, he thought, be far down. 

The idea of a primordial yle, or of the essential unity of matter, has 
persisted throughout the ages, and, in spite of much experimental work, 
some of it of the highest order, which was thought to have demolished 
it, it has survived, revivified and supported by analogies and arguments 
drawn from every field of natural inquiry. This idea of course was at 
the basis of the hypothesis of Prout, but which, even as modified by 
Dumas, was held to be refuted by the monumental work of Stas. But, as 
pointed out by Marignac and Dumas, anyone v,'ho will impartially look 
at the facts can hardly escape the feeling that there must be some reason 
for the frequent recurrence of atomic weights differing by so little 


[mm the numbers required by the huv which the work of Stas was 
supposed to disprov(>. The more exact study within recent years of 
the methods of determining atomic weights, the great improvement 
in experimental apphances and technique, combined with a more 
rigorous standard of accuracy demanded by a general recognition of 
the far-reaching importance of an exact knowledge of these physical 
constants, has resulted in intensifying the belief that some natural 
law must be at the basis of the fact that so many of the most carefully 
determined atomic weights on the oxygen standard are whole numbers. 
Nevertheless there were well-authenticated exceptions which seemed to 
mvalidate its universality. The proved fact that a so-called element 
may be a mixture of isotopes — substances of the same chemical attri- 
butes but of varying atomic weight — has thrown new light on the 
question. It is now recognised that the fractional values independently 
established in the case of any one element by the most accurate experi- 
mental work of various investigators are, in effect, ' statistical quanti- 
ties ' dependent upon a mixture of isotopes. This result, indeed, is a 
necessary corollary of modern conceptions of the inner mechanism of 
the atom. The theory that all elementary atoms are composed of 
helium atoms, or of helium and hydrogen atoms, may be regarded as an 
extension of Front's hypothesis, with, however, this important distinc- 
tion, that whereas Prout's hypothesis was at best a surmise, with little, 
and that little only weak, experimental evidence to support it, the new 
theory is directly deduced from well-estabUshed facts. The hydrogen 
isotope H,, first detected by J. J. Thomson, of which the existence 
has been confirmed by Aston, would seem to be an integral part of 
atomic structure. Eutherford, by the disruption of oxygen and 
nitrogen, has also isolated a substance of mass 3 which enters into 
the structure of atomic nuclei, but which he regards as an isotope 
of hehum, which itself is built up of four hydrogen nuclei together 
with two cementing electrons. The atomic nuclei of elements of even 
atomic number would appear to be composed of helium nuclei only, 
or of helium nuclei with cementing electrons; whereas those of 
elements of odd atomic number are made up of helium and 
hydrogen nuclei together with cementing electrons. In the case of 
the hghter elements of the latter class the number of hydrogen nuclei 
associated with the helium nuclei is invariably three, except in that of 
nitrogen where it is two. The frequent occurrence of this group of 
three hydrogen nuclei indicates that it is structurally an isotope of 
hydrogen with an atomic weight of three and a nuclear charge of one. 
It is surmised that it is identical with the hypothetical ' nebulium ' from 
which our ' elements ' are held by astro-physicists to be originally 
produced in the stars through hydrogen and helium. 

These results are of extraordinary interest as bearing on the question 


of the essential unity of matter and the mode of genesis of the elements. 
Members of the British Association may recall the suggestive address on 
this subject of the late Sir William Crookes, delivered to the Chemical 
Section at the Birmingham meeting of 1886, in which he questioned 
whether there is absolute uniformity in the mass of the atoms of a 
chemical element, as postulated by Dalton. He thought, with 
Marignac and Schutzenberger, who had previously raised the same 
doubt, that it was not improbable that what we term an atomic weight 
merely represents a mean value around which the actual weights of the 
atoms vary within narrow limits, or, in other words, that the mean 
mass is ' a statistical constant of great stability.' No valid experi- 
mental evidence in support of this surmise was or could be offered at 
the time it was uttered. Maxwell pointed out that the phenomena of 
gaseous diffusion, as then ascertained, would seem to negative the 
supposition. If hydi'ogen, for example, were composed of atoms of 
varying mass it should be possible to separate the lighter from the 
heavier atoms by diffusion through a porous septum. ' As no chemist,' 
said Maxwell, ' has yet obtained specimens of hydrogen differing in 
this way from other specimens, we conclude that all the molecules of 
hydrogen are of sensibly the same mass, and not merely that their 
mean mass is a statistical constant of great stability.'^ But against 
this it may be doubted whether any chemist had ever made experiments 
sufficiently precise to solve this point. 

The work of Sir Norman Lockyer on the spectroscopic evidence for 
the dissociation of ' elementary ' matter at transcendental tempera- 
tures, and the possible synthetic intro-stellar production of elements, 
through the helium of which he originally detected the existence, will 
also find its due place in the history of this new philosophy. 

Sir J. J. Thomson was the first to afford direct evidence that the 
atoms of an element, if not exactly of the same mass, were at least 
approximately so, by his method of analysis of positive rays. By an 
extension of this method Mr. F. W. Aston has succeeded in showing 
that a number of elements are in reality mixtures of isotopes. It 
has been proved, for example, that neon, which has a mean 
atomic weight of about 20.2, consists of two isotopes having the 
atomic weights respectively of 20 and 22, mixed in the proportion of 
90 per cent, of the former with 10 per cent, of the latter. By frac- 
tional diffusion through a porous septum an apparent difference of 
density of 0.7 per cent, between the lightest and heaviest fractions 
was obtained. The kind of experiment which Maxwell imagined proved 
the invariability of the hydrogen atom has sufficed to show the converse 
in the case of neon. 

' Clerk-Maxwell, Art. =At(jm," Ency. Brii. 9th Ed. 



The element chlorine has had its atomic weight repeatedly deter- 
mined, and, for special reasons, with the highest attainable accuracy. 
On the oxygen standard it is 35.46, and this value is accurate to the 
second decimal place. All attempts to prove that it is a whole 
number — 35 or 36 — have failed. When, however, the gas is analysed 
by the same method as that used in the case of neon it is found to 
consist of at least two isotopes of relative mass 35 and 37. There is no 
evidence whatever of an individual substance having the atomic weight 
35.46. Hence chlorine is to be regarded as a complex element con- 
sisting of two principal isotopes of atomic v/eights 35 and 37 present 
in such proportion as to afford the mean mass 35.46. The atomic 
weight of chlorine has been so frequently determined by various 
observers and by various methods with practically identical results that 
it seems difficult to believe that it consists of isotopes present in definite 
and invariable proportion. Mr. Aston meets this objection by pointing 
out that all the accurate determinations have been made with chlorine 
dei-ived originally from the same source, the sea, which has been perfectly 
mixed for seons. If samples of the element could be obtained from 
some other original source it is possible that other values of atomic 
weight would be obtained, exactly as in the case of lead in v/hich the 
existence of isotopes in the metal found in various radioactive minerals 
was first conclusively established. 

Argon, which has an atomic weight of 39.88, was found to consist 
mainly of an isotope having an atomic weight of 40, associated to the 
extent of about 3 per cent., with an isotope of atomic weight 36. 
Krypton and xenon are far more complex. The former would appear 
to consist of six isotopes, 78, 80, 82, 83, 84, 86; the latter of five 
isotopes, 129, 131, 132, 134, 136. 

Fluorine is a simple element of atomic weight 19. Bromine con- 
sists of equal quantities of two isotopes, 79 and 81. Iodine, on the 
contrary, would appear to be a simple element of atomic weight 127. 
The case of tellurium is of special interest in view of its periodic relation 
to iodine, but the results of its examination up to the present are 

Boron and silicon are complex elements, each consisting of two 
isotopes, 10 and 11, and 28 and 29, respectively. 

Sulphur, phosphorus, and arsenic are apparently simple elements. 
Their accepted atomic weights are practically integers. 

All this work is so recent that there has been little opportunity, 
as yet, of extending it to any considerable number of the metallic 
elements. These, as will be obvious from the nature of the methods 
employed, present special difficulties. It is, however, highly probable 
that mercury is a mixed element consisting of many isotopes. These 
have been partially separated by Bronsted and Hervesy by fractional 


distillation at very low pressures, and have been shown to vary verj- 
slightly in density. Lithium is found to consist of two isotopes, 
6 and 7. Sodium is simple, potassium and rubidium are complex, each 
of the two latter elements consisting, apparently, of two isotopes. The 
accepted atomic weight of csesium, 132.81, would indicate complexity, 
but the mass spectrum shows only one line at 133. Should this be 
confirmed cfesium would affoi'd an excellent test case. The accepted 
value for the atomic weight is sufficiently far removed from a whole 
number to render further investigation desirable. 

This imperfect summary of Mr. Aston 's work is mainly based upon 
the account he recently gave to the Chemical Society. At the close 
of his lecture he pointed out the significance of the results in relation 
to the Periodic Law. It is clear that the order of the chemical or 
' mean ' atomic weights in the Periodic table has no practical signifi- 
cance ; anomalous cases such as argon and potassium are simply due to 
the relative proportions of their heavier and lighter isotopes. This 
does not necessarily invalidate or even weaken the Periodic Law which 
still remains the expression of a great natural truth. That the expres- 
sion as Mendeleeff left it is imperfect has long been recognised. The 
new light we have now gained has gone far to clear up much that was 
anomalous, especially Moseley's discovery that the real sequence is the 
atomic number, not the atomic weight. This is one more illustration 
of the fact that science advances by additions to its beliefs rather than 
by fundamental or revolutionary changes in them. 

The bearing of the electronic theorv of matter, too, on Prout's dis- 
carded hypothesis that the atoms of all elements were themselves built 
up of a primordial atom — his protyle w^hich he regarded as probably 
identical with hydrogen — is too obvious to need pointing out. In a 
sense Prout's hypothesis may be said to be now re-established, but 
with this essential modification — the primordial atoms he imagined are 
complex and are of two kinds — atoms of positive and negative elec- 
tricity — respectively known as protons and electrons. These, in Mr. 
Aston 's words, are the standard bricks that Nature employs in her 
operations of element building. 

The true value of any theory consists in its comprehensiveness and 
sufficiency. As applied to chemistry, this theory of ' the inner 
mechanism of the atom ' must explain all its phenomena. "We owe to 
Sir J. J. Thomson its extension to the explanation of the Periodic Law, 
the atomic number of an element, and of that varying power of chemical 
combination in an element we term valency. This explanation I give 
substantially in his own words. The number of electrons in an atom 
of the different elements has now been determined, and has been found 
to be equal to the atomic number of the element, that is to the position 
which the element occupies in the series, when the elements are 


arran'^ed in the order of their atomic weights. We know now the 
nature and quantity of the materials of which the atoms are made up. 
Tlie properties of the atom will depend not only upon these factors but 
also upon the way in which the electrons are arranged in the atom. 
Tiiis arrangement will depend on the forces between the electrons 
themselves and also on those between the electrons and the positive 
charges or protons. One arrangement which naturally suggested itself 
is that the positive charges should be at the centre with the negative 
electrons around it on the surface of a sphere. Mathematical investi- 
gation shov/s that this is a possible arrangement if the electrons on the 
sphere are not too crowded. The mutual repulsion of the electrons 
resents overcrowding, and Sir J. J. Thomson has shown that when 
there are more than a certain number of electrons on the sphere, the 
attraction of a positive charge, limited as in the case of the atom m 
magnitude to the sum of the charges on the electrons, is not able to 
keep the electrons in stable equilibrium on the sphere, the layer of 
electrons explodes and a new arrangement is formed. The number of 
electrons which can be accommodated on the outer layer will depend 
upon the law of force between the positive charge and the electrons. 
Sir J. J. Thomson has shown that this number will be eight with a law 
of force of a simple type. 

To show the bearing of this result as affording an explanation of the 
Periodic Law, let us, to begin with, take the case of the atom of lithium, 
which is supposed to have one electron in the outer layer. As each 
element has one more free electron in its atom than its predecessor, 
glucinum, the element next in succession to lithium, will have two 
electrons in the outer layer of its atom, boron will have three, carbon 
four, nitrogen five, oxygen six, fluorine seven and neon eight. As there 
cannot be more than eight electrons in the outer layer, the additional 
electron in the atom of the next element, sodium, cannot find room in 
the same layer as the other electrons, but will go outside, and thus the 
atom of sodium, like that of lithium, will have one electron in its outer 
layer. The additional electron, in the atom of the next element, 
magnesium, will join this, and the atom of magnesium, like that of 
glucinum, will have two electrons in the outer layer. Again, alu- 
minium, hke boron, will have three; silicon, like carbon, four; phos- 
phorus, like nitrogen, five; sulphur, like oxygen, six; chlorine, like 
fluorine, seven; and argon, like neon, eight. The sequence will then 
begin again. Thus the number of electrons, one, two, three, up to eight 
in the outer layer of the atom, will recur periodically as we proceed 
from one element to another in the order of their atomic weights, so 
that any property of an element which depends on the number of elec- 
trons in the outer layer of its atom will also recur periodically, which 
is precisely that remarkable property of the elements which is expressed 


by the Periodic Law of Mendeleeff, or the Law of Octaves of 

The valency of the elements, like their periodicity, is a consequence 
of the principle that equilibrium becomes unstable when there are more 
than eight electrons in the outer layer of the atom. For on this view 
the chemical combination between two atoms, A and B, consists in the 
electrons of A getting linked up with those of B. Consider an atom 
like that of neon, which has already eight electrons in its outer layer; 
it cannot find room for any more, so that no atoms can be linked to it, 
and thus it cannot form any compounds. Now take an atom of fluorine, 
which has seven electrons in its outer layer ; it can find room for one, 
but only one, electron, so that it can unite with one, but not with more 
than one, atom of an element like hydrogen, which has one electron 
in the outer layer. Fluorine, accordingly, is monovalent. The oxygen 
atom has six electrons; it has, therefore, room for two more, and so can 
link up with two atoms of hydrogen : hence oxygen is divalent. Simi- 
larly nitrogen, which has five electrons and three vacant places, will 
be trivalent, and so on. On this view an element should have two 
valencies, the sum of the two being equal to eight. Thus, to take 
oxygen as an example, it has only two vacant places, and so can only 
find room for the electrons of two atoms ; it has, however, six electrons 
available for filling up the vacant places in other atoms, and as there 
is only one vacancy to be filled in a fluorine atom the electrons in an 
oxygen atom could fill up the vacancies in six fluorine atoms, and 
thereby attach these atoms to it. A fluoride of oxygen of this compo- 
sition remains to be discovered, but its analogue, SF^, first made known 
by Moissan, is a compound of this type. The existence of two valencies 
for an element is in accordance with views put forward some time ago 
by Abegg and Bodlander. Professor Lewis and Mr. Irving Longmuir 
have developed, with great ingenuity and success, the consequences 
which follow from the hypothesis that an octet of electrons surrounds 
the atoms in chemical compounds. 

The term ' atomic weight ' has thus acquired for the chemist an alto- 
gether new and much wider significance. It has long been recognised 
that it has a far deeper import than as a constant useful in chemical 
arithmetic. For the ordinary purposes of quantitative analysis, of tech- 
nology, and of trade, these constants may be said to be now known with 
supreme importance. Their determination and study must now be 
of the essential nature of matter and on the ' superlatively grand ques- 
tion, What is the inner mechanism of the atom? ' they become of 
supreme importance Their determination and study must now be 
approached from entirely new standpoints and by the conjoint action of 
chemists and physicists. The existence of isotopes has enormously 
widened the horizon. At first sight it would appear that we should 


require to know as many atomic weights as there are isotopes, and the 
chemist may well be appalled at such a prospect. All sorts of difficulties 
start up to affright him, such as the present impossibility of isolating 
isotopes in a state of individuality, their possible instability, and the in- 
ability of his quantitative methods to estabhsh accurately the relatively 
small differences to be anticipated. All this would seem to make for 
complexity. On the other hand, it may eventually tend towards simpli- 
fication. If, with the aid of the physicist we can unravel the nature and 
configuration of the atom of any particular element, determine the 
number and relative arrangement of the constituent protons and elec- 
trons, it may be possible to arrive at the atomic weight by simple 
calculation, on the assumption that the integer rule is mathematically 
valid. This, however, is almost certainly not the case, owing to the 
influence of ' packing.' The little differences, in fact, may make all the 
difference. The case is analogous to that of the so-called gaseous laws 
in which the departures from their mathematical expression have been 
the means of elucidating the physical constitution of the gases and of 
throwing light upon such variations in their behaviour as have been 
observed to occur. There would appear, therefore, ample scope for the 
chemist in determining with the highest attainable accuracy the de- 
partures from the whole-number rule, since it is evident that much 
depends upon their exact extent. 

These considerations have already engaged the attention of chemists. 
For some years past, a small International Committee, originally 
appointed in 1903, has made and pubhshed an annual report in which 
it has noted such determinations of atomic weight as have been 
made during the year preceding each report, and it has from time 
to time made suggestions for the amendment of the Tables of Atomic 
Weights, published in text-books and chemical journals, and in use m 
chemical laboratories. In view of recent developments, the time has 
now arrived when the work of this International Committee must be 
reorganised and its aims and functions extended. The mode in which 
this should be done has been discussed at the meeting in Brussels, m 
June last, of the International Union of Chemistry Pure and Applied, 
and has resulted in strengthening the constitution of the Committee and 
in a wide extension of its scope. 

The crisis through which we have recently passed has had a pro- 
found effect upon the world. The spectacle of the most cultured and 
most highly developed peoples on this earth, armed with every offensive 
appliance v/hich science and the inventive skill and ingenuity of men 
could suggest, in the throes of a death struggle must have made the 
angels weep. That dreadful harvest of death is past, but the aftermath 
remains. Some of it is evil, and the evil will persist for, it may be 


generations. There is, however, an element of good in it, and the 
good, we trust, will develop and increase with increase of years. The 
whole complexion of the world — material, social, economic, political, 
moral, spiritual — has been changed, in certain aspects immediately 
for the worse, in others prospectively for the better. It behoves us, 
then, as a nation to pay heed to the lessons of the War. 

The theme is far too complicated to be treated adequately within the 
limits of such an address as this. But there are some aspects of it 
germane to the objects of this Association, and I venture, therefore, in 
the time that remains to me, to bring them to yom' notice. 

The Great War differed from all previous internecine struggles in 
the extent to which organised science was invoked and systematically 
applied in its prosecution. In its later phases, indeed, success became 
largely a question as to which of the great contending parties could 
most rapidly and most effectively bring its resources to their aid. The 
chief protagonists had been in the forefront of scientific progress for 
centuries, and had an accumulated experience of the manifold applica- 
tions of science in practically every department of human activity that 
could have any possible relation to the conduct of war. The military 
class in every country is probably the most conservative of all the 
professions and the slowest to depart from tradition. But when nations 
are at grips, and they realise that their very existence is threatened, 
every agency that may tend to cripple the adversary is apt to be resorted 
to — no matter how far it departs from the customs and conventions of 
war. This is more certain to be the case if the struggle is protracted. 
We have witnessed this fact in the course of the late War. Those who, 
realising that in the present imperfect stage of civilisation wars are 
inevitable, and yet strove to minimise their horrors, and who formulated 
fhe Hague Convention of 1899, were well aware how these horrors 
might be enormously intensified by the applications of scientific know- 
ledge, and especially of chemistry. Nothing shocked the conscience 
of the civilised world more than Germany's cynical disregard of the 
undertaking into which she had entei'ed with other nations in regard, 
for instance, to the use of lethal gas in warfare. The nation that 
treacherously violated the Treaty of Belgium, and even applauded the 
action, might be expected to have no scruples in repudiating her obliga- 
tions under the Hague Convention. April 25, 1915, which saw the 
clouds of the asphyxiating chlorine slowly wafted from the German 
' trenches towards the lines of the Allies, witnessed one of the most 
bestial episodes in the history of the Great War. The world stood 
aghast at such a spectacle of barbarism. German kultur apparently 
had absolutely no ethical value. Poisoned weapons are employed by 
savages, and noxious gas had been used in Eastern warfare in early 
times, but its use was hitherto unknown among European nations. 


How it originated among tlie Germans— whether by the direct un- 
prompted action of the Higher Command, or, as is more probable, at 
tiie instance of persons connected with the great manufacturing concerns 
in Rhineland— has, so far as 1 know, not transpired. It was not so 
used in the earlier stages of the War, even when it had become a war 
of position. It is notorious that the great chemical manufacturing 
cstabUshments of Germany had been, for years previously, sedulously 
linked up in the service of the war which Germany was deliberately 
planning— probably, in the first instance, mainly for the supply of 
umnitions and medicaments. We may suppose that it was the tenacity 
of our troops, and the failure of repeated attempts to dislodge them by 
direct attack, that led to the employment of such foul methods. Be this 
as it may, these methods became part of the settled practice of our 
enemies, and during the three succeeding years, that is from April 1915 
to September 1918, no fewer than eighteen different forms of poison- 
gases, liquids, and sohds — were employed by the Germans. On the 
principle of Vespasian's law, reprisals became inevitable, and for the 
greater part of three years we had the sorry spectacle of the leading 
nations of the world flinging the most deadly products at one another 
that chemical knowledge could suggest and technical skill contrive. 
V/arfare, it would seem, has now definitely entered upon a new phase. 
The horrors which the Hague Convention saw were imminent, and from 
which they strove to protect humanity, are now, apparently, by the 
example and initiative of Germany, to become part of the established 
procedure of war. Civihsation protests against a step so retrograde. 
Surely comity among nations should be adequate to arrest it. If the 
League of Nations is vested with any real power, it should be possible 
for it to devise the means, and to ensure their successful application. 
The failure of the Hague Convention is no sufficient reason for despair. 
The moral sense of the civilised world is not so dulled but that, if 
roused, it can make its influence prevail. And steps should be taken 
without delay to make that influence supreme, and all the more so 
that there are agencies at work which would seek to perpetuate such 
methods as a recognised procedure of war. The case for what is called 
chemical warfare has not wanted for advocates. It is argued that poison 
gas is far less fatal and far less cruel than any other instrument of war. 
It has been stated that 'amongst the "mustard gas" casualties the 
deaths were less than 2 per cent., and when death did not ensue complete 
recovery generally ultimately resulted. . . . Other materials of 
chemical warfare in use at the Armistice do not kill at all ; they produce 
casualties which, after six weeks in hospital, are discharged practically 
without permanent hurt.' It has been argued that, as a method 
of conducting war, poison-gas is more humane than preventive medi- 
cine. Preventive medicine has increased the unit dimension of an 


army, free from epidemic and communicable disease, from 100,000 
men to a million. ' Preventive medicine has made it possible to 
maintain 20,000,000 men under arms and abnormally free from disease, 
and so provided greater scope for the killing activities of the other 
military weapons. . . . Whilst the surprise effects of chemical war- 
fare aroused anger as being contrary to military tradition, they were 
minute compared with those of preventive medicine. The former 
slew its thousands, whilst the latter slew its millions and is still reap- 
ing the harvest.' This argument carries no conviction. Poison gas 
is not merely contrary to European military tradition; it is repugnant 
to the right feeling of civilised humanity. It in no wise displaces 
or supplants existing instruments of war, but ci'eates a new kind of 
weapon, of limitless power and deadliness. ' Mustard gas ' may be a 
comparatively innocuous product as lethal substances go. It certainly 
was not intended to be such by our enemies. Nor, presumably, were 
the Allies any more considerate when they retaliated with it. Its 
effects, indeed, were sufficiently terrible to destroy the German moral. 
The knowledge that the Allies were preparing to employ it to an almost 
boundless extent was one of the factors that determined our enemies to 
sue for the Armistice. But if poisonous chemicals are henceforth to be 
regarded as a regular means of offence in warfare, is it at all likely that 
their use will be confined to ' mustard gas, ' or indeed to any other of the 
various substances which were employed up to the date of the Armistice ? 
To one who, after the peace, inquired in Germany concerning the 
German methods of making ' mustard gas,' the reply was : — ' Why are 
you worrying about this when you know perfectly well that this is not 
the gas we shall use in the next war? ' 

I hold no brief for preventive medicine, which is well able to fight 
its own case. I would only say that it is the legitimate business of 
preventive medicine to preserve by all known means the health of any 
body of men, however large or small, committed to its care. It is not 
to its discredit if, by knowledge and skill, the numbers so maintained 
run into millions instead of being limited to thousands. On the other 
hand, ' an educated public opinion ' will refuse to give credit to any 
body of scientific men who employ their talents in devising means to 
develop and perpetuate a mode of warfare which is abhorrent to the 
higher instincts of humanity. 

This Association, I trust, will set its face against the continued 
degradation of science in thus augmenting the horrors of war. It 
could have no loftier task than to use its great influence in arresting a 
course which is the very negation of civilisation. 






My predecessor in office a year ago reminded you that the theoretical 
researches of Einstein and Weyl suggest that not merely the material 
univei'se but space itself is perhaps finite. As to the probabilities i 
do not wish to express an opinion ; but the statement is significant 
of the extent of the revolution in the conceptions and fundamental 
principles of physics now in progress. That space need not be infinite 
has, I believe, long been recognised by geometricians, and appropriate 
geometries to meet its possible limitations have been devised by 
ingenious mathematicians. I doubt, however, whether these inventive 
gentlemen ever dreamed that their schemes held any objective validity 
such as would assist the astronomer and the physicist in understanding 
and classifying material phenomena. It is not certain that they will ; 
but the possibility is definite. Apart from this, the whole development 
of relativity is an extraordinary triumph for pure mathematics. Had 
Einstein not found his entire calculus ready to hand, owing to the 
purely mathematical work of Christoffel, Eiemann, and others, it seems 
certain that the development of generalised relativity would have been 
much slower. It is a pleasure to be able to acknowledge this indebted- 
ness of physics and astronomy to pure mathematics. 

Eelativity is the revolutionary movement in physics which has 
caught the public eye, perhaps because it deals with familiar concep- 
tions in a manner which for the most part is found pleasantly incom- 
pi'ehensible. But it is only one of a number of revolutionary changes 
of comparable magnitude. Among these we have to place the advent 
of the quantum, the significance of which I hope we shall thoroughly 
discuss early next week. The various consequences of the electronic 
structure of matter are still unfolding themselves to us, and are increas- 
ing our insight into the most varied phenomena at a rate which must 
have appeared incredible only a few decades ago. 

The enormous and far-reaching importance of the discoveries being 
made at Cambridge by Sir Ernest Rutherford cannot be over-empha- 
sised. These epoch-making discoveries relate to the structure and 
properties of the nuclei of atoms. At the present time we have, t 
tnink, to accept it as a fact that the atoms consist of a positively 
charged nucleus of minute size, Nurrounded at a fairly respectful distance 
1921 ■ 


by the number of electrons requisite to maintain the structure electri- 
cally neutral. The nucleus contains all but about one-two-thousandth 
part of the mass of the atom, and its electric charge is numerically 
equal to that of the negative electron multiplied by what is called the 
atomic number of the atom, the atomic number being the number 
which is obtained when the chemical elements are enumerated in the 
order of'the atomic weights; thus hydrogen = l, helium = 2, hthium = 3, 
and so on. Consequently the number of external electrons in the 
atom is also equal to the atomic number. The evidence, derived from 
many distinct and dissimilar lines of inquiry, which makes it necessary 
to accept the foregoing statements as facts, will be familiar to members 
of this Section of the British Association, which has continually ])een 
in the forefront of contemporary advances in physical science. But 
I would remind you in passing that one of the important pieces of 
evidence was supplied by Professor Barkla's researches on the scattering 
of X-rays by light atoms. 

The diameters of the nuclei of the atoms are comparable with one- 
millionth of one-millionth part of a centimetre, and the problem of 
finding what lies within the interior of such a struct lU'e seems at first 
sight almost hopeless. It is to this problem which Eutherford has 
addressed himself by the direct method of bombarding the nuclei of the 
different atoms with the equally minute high-velocity helium nuclei 
(alpha-particles) given off by radioactive substances, and examining 
the tracks of any other particles which may be generated as a result 
of the impact. A careful and critical examination of the results shows 
that hydrogen nuclei are thus expelled from the nuclei of a number of 
atoms such as nitrogen and phosphorus. On the other hand, oxygen 
and carbon do not eject hydrogen under these circumstances, although 
there is evidence in the case of oxygen and nitrogen of the expulsion 
of other sub-nuclei whose precise structure is a matter for further 

The artificial transmutation of the chemical elements is thus an 
established fact. The natural transmutation has, of course, been 
familiar for some years to students of radioactivity. The philosopher's 
stone, one of the alleged chimeras of the mediaeval alchemists, is thus 
within our reach. But this is only part of the story. It appears that 
in some cases the kinetic energy of the ejected fragments is gi'eater 
than that of the bombarding particles. This means that these bombard- 
ments are able to release the energy which is stored in the nuclei of 
atoms. Now, we know from the amount of heat liberated in radio- 
active disintegration that the amount of energy stored in the nuclei 
is of a higher order of magnitude altogether, some millions of times 
greater, in fact, than that generated by any chemical reaction such 
as the combustion of coal. In this comparison, of course, it is the 
amount of energy per unit mass of reacting or disintegrating matter 
whick is under consideration. The amounts of energy which have thus 
far been released by artificial disintegration of the nuclei are in them- 
selves small, but they are enormous in comparison with the minute 
amounts of matter affected. If these effects can be sufficiently inten- 
sified there appear to be two possibilities. Eitlier they will prove 


uncontrollable, wliu'li would picsiunahly spell I he cud o[ all things,' 
or they will not. If they can be both intensified and controlled tlien 
we shall have at oar disposal an almost illimitable supply of power 
which will entirely transcend anything hitherto known, it is too early 
yet to say whether the necessary conditions are capable of being 
realised in practice, but I see no elements in the problem which would 
justify us in denying the possibility of this. It may be that we are 
at the beginning of a new age, which will be referred to as the age 
of sub-atomic power. We cannot say; time alone will tell. 

Thermionic Emission. 

With your permission, I will now descend a little way from the 
summit of Mount Olympus, and devote the rest of my address to a 
sober review of the present state of some of the questions with which 
my own thoughts have been more particularly occupied. At the 
Manchester meeting of the Association in 1915 I had the privilege of 
opening a discussion on thermionic emission — that is to say, the 
emission of electrons and ions by incandescent bodies. I recall that 
the opinion was expressed by some of the speakers that these pheno- 
mena had a chemical origin. That view, I venture to think, is one 
which would find very few supporters now. It is not that any new 
body of fact has arisen in the meantime. The important facts were 
all established before that time, but they were insufficiently appreciated, 
and their decisiveness was inadequately realised. 

It may be worth while to revert for a moment to the issues in that 
controversy, already moribund in 1915, because it has been closely 
paralleled by similar controversies relating to two other groups of 
phenomena — namely, photoelectric emission and contact electro- 
motive force — which, as we shall see, are intimately connected with 
thermionic emission. The issue was not as to whether thermionic 
emission may be looked upon simply as a type of chemical reaction. 
Such an issue would have been largely a matter of nomenclature. 
Thermionic electron emission has many features in common with a 
typical reversible chemical reaction such as the dissociation of calcium 
carbonate into lime and carbon dioxide. There is a good deal to be 
said for the point of view which regards thermionic emission as an 
example of the simplest kind of reversible chemical action, namely, 
that kind which consists in the dissociation of a neutral atom into a 
positive residue and a negative electron, inasmuch as we know that 
the negative electron is one of the really fundamental elements out of 
which matter is built up. The issue in debate was, however, of a 
different chai'acter. It was suggested that the phenomenon was not 
primarily an emission of electrons from the metallic or other source, 
but was a secondary phenomenon, a kind of by-product of an action 
which was primarily a chemical reaction between the source of elec- 
trons and Some other material substance such as the highly attenuated 

' To reassure the nervous I would, however, interpolate the comforting 
thouglil tliat this planet tias held consideral>le quantities of radioactive matter 
for a vtry long tihie Without anytiiing Very serious llappbnili^ So far as we 

E 2 


g;aseons atmosphere which surrounderl it. This sugp^pstion carried with 
it either imphcitly or expUcitly Ihe view that the source of power 
behind the emission was not the thermal energy of the source, but 
was the chemical energy of the postulated reactions. 

This type of view has never had any success in elucidating the 
phenomena, and I do not feel it necessary at this date to weary you 
with a recital of the facts which run entirely counter to it, and, in 
fact, definitely exclude it as a possibility. They have been set forth 
at length elsewhere on more than one occasion. I shall take it to 
be established that the phenomenon is physical in its origin and 
reversible in its operation. 

Establishing the primary character of the phenomenon does not. 
however, determine its nature or its immediate cause. Originally I 
regarded it as simply kinetic, a manifestation of the fact that as the 
temperature rose the kinetic energy of some of the electi"ons would 
begin to exceed the work of the forces by which they are attracted 
to the parent substance. With this statement there is, I think, no 
room for anyone to quarrel, but it is permissible to inquire how the 
escaping electrons obtain the necessary energy. One answer is that 
the electrons have it already in the interior of the substance by virtue 
of their energy of thermal agitation. But thermal agitations now 
appear less simple than thev used to be regarded, and in any event 
they do not exhaust the possibilities. 

We know that when light of short enough wave-length falls on 
matter it causes the ejection of electrons from it — the so-called photo- 
electric effect. Since the formula for the radiation emitted by a body 
at any given temperature contains every wave-length without limita- 
tion, there must be some emission of electrons from an incandescent 
body as the result of the photoelectric effect of its own luminosity. 
Two questions obviously put themselves. Will this photoelectric 
emission caused by the whole spectrum of the hot body vary as the 
temperature of the incandescent body is raised in the way which is 
known to characterise thermionic emission ? A straightforward thermo- 
dynamic calculation shows that this is to be expected from the theo- 
retical standpoint, and the anticipation has been confirmed bv the 
experiments of Professor W. Wilson. Thus the autophotoelectric 
emission has the correct behaviour to account for the thermionic 
emission. The other question is: Is it large enough? This is a 
question of fact. I have considered the data very carefully. There is 
a little uncertainty in some of the items, but when every allowance 
is made there seems no escape from the conclusion that the photo- 
electric effect of the whole spectrum is far too small to account for 
thermionic emission. 

This question is an important one, apart from the particular case 
of thermionic emission. The same dilemma is met with when we 
seek for the actual models operandi of evaporation, chemical action, 
and a number of other phenomena. These, so far as we know, might 
be fundamentally either kinetic or photochemical or a mixture of both. 
In mv judgment the last of these particular alternatives is the most 
probable. (I am using the term photochemical here in the wide sense 


of an effect of light in changing the composition of matter, wliether llie 
parts affected are atoms, groups of atoms, ions, or electrons.) For 
example, the approximation about boiling points known as Trouton's rule 
is a fairly obvious deduction from the photochemical standpoint. The 
photociiemical point of view has recently been put very strongly by 
i^errin, who would make it the entire nioiif of all chemical reaction, as 
well as of radioactivity and changes of state. In view of the rather minor 
part it seems to play in thermionic emission, where one would a priori 
have expected light to be especially effective, this is probably claiming 
too much for it, but the chemical evidence contains one item which is 
certainly difficult to comprehend from the kinetic standpoint. The 
speed of chemical decomposition of certain gases is independent of 
their volume, showing that the decomposition is not due to molecular 
collisions. The speed does, however, increase very rapidly with rising 
temperature. What the increased temperature can do except increase 
the number and intensity of the collisions, factors which the indepen- 
dence of volume at constant temperature show to be without effect, 
and increase the amount of radiation received by the molecules, is 
not too obvious. It seems, however, that, according to calculations 
by Langrauir,- the radiation theory does not get us out of this difficulty; 
for, just as in the ordinary photoelectric case, there is nothing like 
enough radiation to account for the observed effects. It seems that 
in the case of these mono-molecular reactions the phenomena cannot 
be accounted for either by simple collisions, or by radiation, or by a 
mixture of both, and it is necessary to fall back on the internal structure 
of the decomposing molecule. This is complex enough to afford material 
sufficient to cover the possibilities; but, from the standpoint of the 
temperature energy relations of its- parts, it cannot at present be 
regarded as much more than a field for speculation. 

Contact Electricity. 

A controversy about the nature of the contact potential difference 
between two metals, similar to that to which I have referred in connec- 
tion with thermionic emission, has existed for over a century. In 
1792 Volta wrote : ' The metals . . . can by themselves, and of their 
own proper virtue, excite and' dislodge the electric fluid from its state 
of rest." The contrary position that the electrical manifestations are 
mseparably connected with chemical action was developed a few years 
later by. Fabroni. Since that time electrical investigators have been 
fairly evenly divided between these two opposing camps. Among the 
supporters of the intrinsic or contact view of the type of Volta we 
may recall Davy, Helmholtz, and Kelvin. On the other side we have 
to place Maxwell, Lodge, and Ostwald. In 1862 we find Ix>rd Kelvin^ 
writing: ' For nearly two veais I have felt (juite sui'e that the proper 
explanation of voltaic action in (lie common voltaic arrangement is 
very near Volta 's. which fell into discredit because Volta or his 
followers neglected the principle of the conservation of force. ' On the 
ether hand, in 1896 we find Ostwald^ referring to Volta 's views as 

~ Journ. Am. Chem. Soc, vol. xlii., p. 2100 (1920). 

■' Papers on Electrostatics and ^ p. 318. 

■' EleJitrochcmh, Ihrc Geschichte und Lefirc. p. 65, Leipzig (1890). 


the origin of the most far-reaching error in electrochemistry, which 
the greatest part of the scientific work in that domain has been occupied 
in fighting almost ever since. These are cited merely as representative 
specimens of the opinions of the protagonists. 

Now, there is a close connection between thermionic emission and 
contact potential difference, and I believe that a study of thermionic 
emission is going to settle this little dispute. In fact, I rather think 
it has already settled it, but before going into that matter I would 
like to explain how it is that there is a connection between thermionic 
emission and contact potential difference, and what the nature of that 
connection is. 

Imagine a vacuous enclosure, either impervious to heat or main- 
tained at a constant temperature. Let the enclosure contain two 
different electron-emitting bodies, A and B. Let one of these, say A, 
have the power of emitting electrons faster than the other, B. Since 
they are each receiving as well as emitting electrons, A will acquire 
a positive and B a negative charge under these circumstances. Owing 
to these opposite charges A and B will now attract each other, and 
useful work can be obtained by letting them come in contact. After 
the charges on A and B have been discharged by bringing them in 
contact, let the bodies be quickly separated and moved to their original 
positions. This need involve no expenditure of work, as the charges 
arising from the electron emission will not have had time to develop. 
After the charges have had time to develop the bodies can again be 
permitted to move together under their mutual attraction, and so the 
cycle can be continued an indefinite number of times. In this way 
we have succeeded in imagining a device which will convert all the 
heat energy from a source at a uniform temperature into useful work. 

Now, the existence of such a device would contravene the second 
law of thermodynamics. We are therefore compelled either to deny 
the principles of thermodynamics or to admit that there is some fallacy 
as to the pretended facts in the foregoing argument. We do not need 
to hesitate between these alternatives, and we need only look to see 
how the alleged behaviour of A and B will need to be modified in order 
that no useful work may appear. There are two alternatives. Either 
A and B necessarily emit equal numbers (which may include the par- 
ticular value zero) of electrons at all temperatures, or the charges which 
develop owing to the unequal rate of emission are not discharged, even 
to the slightest degi'ee, when the two bodies are placed in contact. 

The first alternative is definitely excluded by the experimental 
evidence, so I shall proceed to interpret the second. It means that 
bodies have natural states of electrification whereby they become 
charged to definite potential differences whose magnitudes are indepen- 
dent of their relative positions. There is an intrinsic potential difference 
between A and B which is the same, at a given temperature, whether 
they are at a distance apart or in contact. In the words of Volta, 
which I have already quoted, ' the metals can by themselves, and of 
their own proper virtue, excite and dislodge the electric fluid from its 
state of rest. ' 


Admitting that the intrinsic potentials exist, a straightforward 
calculation shows that they are intimately connected with the magni- 
tudes of the thermionic emission at a given temperature. The relation 
is, in fact, governed by the following equation : If A and B denote 
the saturation thermionic currents per unit area of the bodies A and 
B respectively, and V is the contact potential difference between them 

at the absolute temperature T, then V = ^ log where k is the 

e JtJ 

gas constant calculated for a single molecule (Boltzmann's constant), 

and e is the electronic charge. 

I have recently, with the help of Mr. F. S. Eobertson, obtained 
a good deal of new information on this question from the experimental 
side. We have made measurements of the contact potential difference 
between heated filaments and a surrounding metallic cylinder, both 
under the high-vacuum and gas-free conditions which are now attain- 
able in such apparatus, and also when small known pressures of pure 
hydrogen are present. As is well known, both contact potentials and 
thermionic emission are very susceptible to minute traces of gas, but 
we find that under the best conditions as to freedom from gas there 
is a contact potential of the order of one volt between a pure tungsten 
filament and a thoriated filament. We also find that changes of a 
smiilar magnitude in the contact potential difference between a thoriated 
tungsten filament and a copper anode take place when the filament is 
heated. These changes are accompanied by simultaneous changes in 
the thermionic currents from the filament; and we find that the change 
in the contact potential calculated from change in the currents with the 
help of the foregoing equation is within about 20 per cent, of the 
measured value. Considering the experimental difficulties, this is a 
very substantial agreement. Whilst the evidence is not yet as complete 
as i hope to make it, it goes a long way towards disproving the chemical 
view of the origin of contact potential difference. 

From what has been said you will realise that the connection between 
contact potentials and thermionic emissions is a very close one. I 
would, however, like to spend a moment in developing it from another 
angle. To account for the facts of thermionic emission it is necessary 
to assume that the potential energy of an electron in the space just 
outside the emitter is greater than that inside by a definite amount, 
wiiich we may call w. The existence of this ir, wliich iiieasuies liio 
work done when an electron escapes from the emitter, is required by 
the electron-atomic structure of matter and of electricity. Its value 
can be deduced from the temperature variation of thermionic emission, 
and, more directly, from the latent heats absorbed or generated when 
electrons flow out of or into matter. These three methods give values 
of ID which, allowing for the somewhat considerable experimental 
difficulties, are in fair agreement for any particular emitter. The data 
also show that in general different substances have different values of 
w. This being so, it is clear that when uncharged bodies are placed 
in contact the potential energies of the electrons in one will in general 
be different from those of the electrons in the other. If, as in the 
case of the metals, the electrons arc able to move freely they will 


so move until an electric field is set up which equilibrates this difference 
of potential energy. There will thus be an intrinsic or contact difference 
01 potential between metals which is equivalent to the difference in 
the values of -w and is equal to the difference in iv divided by the 
electronic charge.^ 

Photoelectric Action. 

We have seen that there is a connection on broad lines between 
thermionic emission and both contact potentials on the one hand and 
photoelectric emission on the other. The three groups of phenomena 
are also related in detail and to an extent which up to the present 
has not been completely explored. In order to understand the present 
position, let us review briefly some of the laws of photoelectric action 
as they have revealed themselves by experiments on the electrons 
emitted from metals when illuminated by visible and ultra-violet light. 

Perhaps the most striking feature of photoelectric action is the 
existence of what has been called the threshold frequency. For each 
metal whose surface is in a definite state there is a definite frequency 
Hg, which may be said to determine the entire photoelectric behaviour 
of the metal. The basic property of the threshold frequency w„ is 
this : When the metal is illuminated by light of frequency less than 
n no electrons are emitted, no matter how intense the light may be. 
On the other hand, illumination by the most feeble light of frequency 
greater than n^ causes some emission. The frequency n„ signalises a 
sharp and absolute discontinuity in the phenomena. 

Now let us inquire as to the kinetic energy of the electrons which 
are emitted by a metal when illuminated by monochromatic light of 
frequency, let us say, «. Owing to the fact that the emitted electrons 
may originate from different depths in the metal, and may undergo 
collisions at irregular intervals, it is only the maximum kinetic energy 
of those which escape which we should expect to exhibit simple 
properties. As a matter of fact, it is found that the maximum kinetic 
energy is equal to the difference between the actual frequency n and 
the threshold frequency n„ multiplied by Planck's constant /;. In 
mathematical symbols, if v is the velocity of the fastest emitted electron, 
in its mass, e its charge, and V the opposing potential required to 
bring it to rest, 

eV = ^m v'^ = h (n — «.g). 

From this equation we see that the thr-eshold frequency has another 
property. It is evidently that frequency for which kinetic energy and 
stopping potential fall to zero. This suggests strongly, I think, that 
the reason the electron emission ceases at n^ is that tlie electrons 
are not able to get enough energy from the light to escape from the 
metal, and not that they are unable to get any energy from the light. 

The threshold frequencies have another simple pro]ierty. If we 
measure the threshold frequencies for any pair of metals, and at the 

5 This statement is only approximately true. In order to condense the 
argument certain small effects connected with the Peltier effect at the junction 
between the metals have been left out of consideration. 


same time we measure tlie contact difference of potential K between 
them, we find tfiat K is equal to the difference between their threshold 
frequencies nuiltiplied by this same constant h divided by the electronic 
ciiarge e. 

These results, as well as others which I have not time to enumerate, 
admit of a very simple interpretation if we assume that when illumi- 
nated by light of frequency n the electrons individually acquire an 
amount of energy hn. We have seen that in order to account for 
thermionic phenomena it is necessary to assume that the electrons 
have to do a certain amount of v/ork iv to get away from the emitter. 
There is no reason to suppose that photoelectrically emitted electrons 
can avoid this necessity. Let us suppose that this work is also definite 
for the photoelectric electrons and let us denote its value by hn^. Then 
no electron will be able to escape from the metal until it is able to 
acquire an amount of energy at least equal to hrig from the light — 
that is to say, under the suppositions made — until » becomes at least 
as great as n^. Thus n„ will be identical with the frequency whicli 
we have called the threshold frequency, and the maximum energy of 
any electron after escaping will be h (n—n^,). 

The relation between threshold frequencies and contact potential 
difference raises another issue. "We have seen that the contact potential 
difference between two metals must be very nearly equal to the difference 
lietween the amounts of work w for the electrons to get away from 
the two metals by thermionic action, divided by the electronic charge e. 
The photoelectric experiments show that the contact electromotive force 
is also nearly equal to the differences of the threshold frequencies multi- 
plied by % It follows that the photoelectric \^ork hUg must be equal 
to the thermionic work w to the same degree of accuracy. We have 
to except here a possible constant difference between the two. I do 
not see, however, how any value other than zero for such a constant 
could be given a rational interpretation, as it would have to be the 
same for all substances and frequencies. The photoelectric and ther- 
mionic works are known to agree to within about one volt. To decide how 
far they are identical needs better experimental evidence than we have 
at present. The indirect evidence for their substantial identity is 
stronger at the moment than the direct evidence. 

I do not think that the complete identity of the thermionic work 7;) 
and the photoelectric hiu is a matter which can be inferred a priori. 
What we should expect depends to a considerable extent on the con- 
dition of the electrons in the interior of metals. We cannot pretend 
to any real knowledge of this at present ; the various current theories 
are mere guesswork. TTnless the electrons which escape all have the 
same energy when inside the metal we siiould expect the thermionic 
value to be an average taken over those which get out. The photo- 
electric value, on the other hand, sliould be the minimum pertaining to 
those internal electrons which have most energy. The apparent sharp- 
ness of the threshold frequency is also surprising from some points 
of view. There seems to be scope for a fuller experimental examination 
of these questions. 

I have spoken of the threshold frequency as though it were a 


perfectly definite quantity. No doubt it is when the condition of the 
body is or can be definitely specified, but it is extraordinarily sensitive 
to minute changes in the conditions of the surface, such as may be 
caused, for example, by the presence of extremely attenuated films of 
foreign matter. For this reason we should accept with a certain degree 
of reserve statements which appear from time to time that photoelectric 
action is some parasitic phenomenon, inasmuch as it can be made to 
disappear by improvement of vacuum or other change in the conditions. 
What has generally happened in these investigations is that something 
has been done to the illuminated surface which has raised its threshold 
frequency above that of the shortest wave-length in the light employed 
in the test. Unless they are accompanied by specific information 
about the changes which have taken place in the threshold frequency, 
such statements are of little value at the present stage of development 
of this subject. 

Interesting calculations have been made by Frenkel which bring 
surface tension into close connection with the thermionic work w. 
Broadly speaking, there can be little doubt that a connection of this 
nature exists, but whether the relation is as simple as that given by 
the calculations is open to doubt. It should be possible to answer this 
question definitely when we have more precise information about the 
disposition of the electrons in atoms such as the continuous progress 
in X-ray investigation seems to promise. 

Light and X-Rays. 

One of the great achievements of experimental physics in recent 
years has been the demonstration of the essential unity of X-rays and 
ordinary light. X-rays have been shown to be merely light of particu- 
larly high frequency or short wave-length, the distinction between the 
two being one of degree rather than of kind. The foundations of our 
knowledge of X-ray phenomena were laid by Barkla, but the discovery 
and development of the crystal diffraction methods by v. Laue, the 
Braggs, Moseley, Duane, and de Broglie have established their relations 
with ordinary light so clearly that he who runs may read their substan- 
tial identity. The actual gap in the spectrum of the known radiations 
between light and X-rays is also rapidly disappearing. The longest 
stride into the region beyond the ultra-violet was made by Lyman 
with the vacuum gi-ating spectroscope which he developed. For a short 
time Professor Bazzoni and I held the record in this direction with 
our determination of the short wave limit of the helium spectrum, 
which is in the neighbourhood of 450 Angstrom units. More recently 
this has been passed by Millikan, who has mapped a number of lines 
extending to about 200 Angstrom units— that is to say, more than four 
octaves above the violet limit of the visible spectrum. I am not sure 
what is the longest X-ray which has been measured, but I find a 
record of a Zinc L-ray by Friman « of a wave-length of 12.34G 
Angstrom units. There is thus at most a matter of about four octaves 

0PAt7. .Vaj7.,vol. xxxii., p. 494 (1916). 


slill to 1h' I'Xiiloicd. In appioaching this unknown i-eyion IVoni tin; 
violet end the most characteristic property of the radiations appears to 
be their intense absorption by practically every kind of matter. This 
result is not very surprising from the quantum standpoint. The 
quantum of these radiations is in excess of that which corresponds to 
the ionising potential of every known molecule, but it is of the same 
order of magnitude. Furthermore, it is large enough to reach not 
only the most superficial, but also a number of the deeper-seated 
electrons of the atoms. There is evidence, both theoretical and experi- 
mental, that the photoelectric absorption of radiation is most intense 
when its quantum exceeds the minimum quantum necessary to eject 
the absorbing electron but does not exceed it too much. In the simplest 
theoretical case the absorption is zero for radiations whose frequencies 
lie below the minimum quantum, rises to a maximum for a frequency 
comparable with the minimum, and falls off to zero again at infinite 
frequency. This case has not been realised in practice, but, broadly 
judged, the experimental data are in harmony with it. On these general 
grounds we should expect intense absorption by all kinds of matter for 
the radiation between the ultra-violet and the X-ray region. 

The closeness of the similarity in the properties of X-rays and light 
is, I think, even yet inadequately realised. It is not merely a similarity 
along broad lines, but it extends to a remarkable degree of detail. It 
is perhaps most conspicuous in the domains of photoelectric action and 
of the inverse phenomenon of the excitation of radiation or spectral lines 
by electron impacts. Whilst there may still be room for doubt as to 
the precise interpretation of some of the experimental data, the impres- 
sion I have formed is that each important advance tends to unify rather 
than to disintegrate these two important groups of phenomena. 




M. 0. PORSTER, D.Sc, F.R.S., 


Many and various are tlie reasons which liave been urged, at different 
periods oi its history, for stimulating the study of chemistry. In 
recent years these have been either defensive or frankly utilitarian, in 
the latter feature recalling the less philosophic aspects of alchemy ; 
moreover, it is to be feared that a substantial proportion of those who 
have lately hastened to prepare themselves for a chemical career have 
been actuated by this inducement. It is the duty, therefore, of those 
who speak with any degree of experience to declare that the only motive 
for pursuing chemistry which promises anything but profound disap- 
pointment is an affection for the subject sufficiently absorbing to dis- 
place the attraction of other piu'suits. Even to the young chemist who 
embarks under this inspiration the prospect of success as recognised 
by the world is indeed slender, but, as liis knowledge grows and the 
consequent appreciation of our ignorance widens, enthusiasm for the 
beauty and mystery of surrounding nature goes far in compensating for 
the disadvantage of his position. On the other hand, he who has been 
beguiled into embracing chemistry on the sole ground of believing it 
to be a ' good thing ' will either desert it expeditiously or almost surely 
starve and shower purple curses upon his advisers. 

In one respect chemistry resembles measles — every boy and girl 
sliould have it, lest an attack in later life should prove more serious. 
Moreover, whilst it is not only unnecessary, but most undesirable, to 
present the subject as if every boy and girl were going to be a chemist. 
it is most important to present it in such a manner that every educated 
citizen may realise the intimate part which chemistry plays in his 
daily life. Not only do chemical principles underlie the operations of 
every industry, but every human being — indeed, every living plant and 
animal — is, during each moment of healthy life, a practical organic and 
physical chemist, conducting analytical and synthetical processes of 
the most complex order with imperturbable serenity. No other branch 
of knowledge can appeal for attention on comparable grounds ; and 
without suggesting that we should all, individually, acquire sufficient 
chemical understanding fully to apprehend the changes which our 
bodies effect so ijunctuallv and so precisely — for this remains beyond 
the power of trained cheniists — it may be claimed that an acquaintance 
with the general outlines of chemistry would add to the mental eauip- 
ment of our people a source of abundant intellectual pleasure which 
is now unfairly denied them. We have been told that the world shall 
be made a fit place for heroes to live in ; but is not the preliminary 


to this ideal an exposition to those lieroes of the wonder and beauty 
of the world which they already occupy, on the principle that if you 
cannot have what you like, it is elementary wisdom to like what you 
have? In following the customary practice of surveying matters of 
interest which have risen from our recent studies, therefore, it is the 
purpose of this address to emphasise also those aesthetic aspects of 
chemistry which offer ample justification for the labour which its 
pursuit involves. 

What is breakfast to the average man'.' A hurried compromise 
between hunger and the newspaper. How does the chemist regard it ? 
As a daily miracle which gains, rather than loses, freshness as the 
years pr-oceed. For just think what happens. Before we reach the 
table frizzled bacon, contemplated or smelt, has actuated a wonderful 
chemical process in our bodies. The work of Pavlov has shown that 
if the dog has been accustomed to feed from a familiar bowl the sight 
of that bowl, even empty, liberates from the appropriate glands a 
saliva having the same chemical composition as that produced by 
snuffing the food. This mouth-watering process, an early experience 
of childhood, is known to the polite physiologist as a ' psychic reflex,' 
and the various forms assumed by psychic reflex, responding to the 
various excitations which arise in the daily life of a human being, 
must be regarded by the chemical philosopher as a series of demon- 
strations akin to those which he makes in the laboratory, but hopelessly 
inimitable with his present mental and material resources. For, 
extending this principle to the other chemical substances poured succes- 
sively into the digestive tract, we have to recognise that the minute 
cells of which our bodies are co-ordinated assemblages possess and 
exercise a power of synthetic achievement contrasted with which the 
classical syntheses, occasionally enticing the modern organic chemist 
to outbursts of pride, are little more than hesitating preliminaries. Such 
products of the laboratory, elegant as they appear to us, represent only 
the fringe of this vast and absorbing subject. Carbohydrates, alkaloids, 
glucosides and purines, complex as they seem when viewed from the 
plane of their constituent elements, are but the molecular debris strewing 
the path of enzyme action and photochemical synthesis, whilst the 
enzymes produced in the cells, and applied by them in their ceaseless 
metamorphoses, are so far from having been synthesised by the chemist 
as to have not even yet been isolated in purified form, although their 
specific actions may be studied in the tissue-extracts containing them. 

Reflect for a moment on the specific actions. The starch in our 
toast and porridge, the fat in our butter, the proteins in our bacon, all 
insoluble in water, by transformations otherwise unattainable in the 
laboratory are smoothly and rapidly rendered transmissible to the blood, 
which accepts the products of their disintegration with miUtary pre- 
cision. Even more amazing are the consequences. Remarkable as the 
foregoing analyses must appear, we can dimly follow their progress 
by c^omparison' with those more violent disruptions of similar materials 
revealed to us by laboratory practice, enabling such masters of our craft 
as Emil Fischer to isolate 'the resultant individuals. Concurrently with 
such analyses, however, there proceed syntheses which we can scarcely 


visualise, much less imikile. The perpetual elaboration of fatty acids 
from carbohydrates, of proteins from amino-acids, of zymogens and 
hormones as practised by the living body are beyond the present com- 
prehension of the biochemist; but their recognition is his delight, and 
the hope of ultimately realising such marvels provides the dazzling 
goal towards which his efforts are directed. 

The Vegetable Alkaloids. 

The joyous contemplation of these wonders is an inalienable reward 
of chemical study, but it is denied to the vast majority of our people. 
Tlie movements of currency exchange, to which the attention of the 
public has been directed continuously for several years, are clumsy 
contortions compared with the chemical transformations arising from 
food exchange. It should not be impossible to bring the skeleton of 
these transformations within the mental horizon of those who take 
pleasur-e in study and reflection; and to those also the distinction 
between plants and animals should be at least intelligible. The wonderful 
power which plants exercise in building up their tissues from carbonic 
acid, water and nitrogen, contrasted with the powerlessness of animals 
to utilise these building materials until they have been already assembled 
by plants, is a phenomenon too fundamental and illuminating to be 
withheld, as it now is, from all but the few. For by its operation 
the delicate green carpet, which we all delight in following through 
the annual process of covering the fields with golden corn, is accom- 
plishing throughout the summer months a vast chemical synthesis of 
starch for our benefit. Through the tiny pores in those tender blades 
are circulating fi^eely the gases of the atmosphere, and from those 
gases — light, intangible nothingness, as vve are p]-one to regard them — 
this very tangible and important white solid compound is being 
elaborated. The chemist cannot do this. Plants accomplish it by their 
most conspicuous feature, greenness, which enables them to put solar 
energy into cold storage ; they are accumulating fuel for subsequent 
development of bodily heat energy. Side by side with starch, however, 
these unadvertised silent chemical agencies elaborate molecules even 
more imposing, in which nitrogen is interwoven with the elements of 
starch, and thus are produced the vegetable alkaloids. 

In this province the chemist has been more fortunate, and successive 
generations of students have been instructed in the synthesis of piperine, 
coniine, trigonelline, nicotine, and extensions from the artificial produc- 
tion of tropine ; but until quite recently his methods have been hopelessly 
divergent from those of the plant. Enlightening insight into these, 
however, was given just four years ago by E. Eobinson, who effected a 
remarkably simple synthesis of tropinone by the mere association of 
succindialdehyde, methylamine, and acetone in water, unassisted by 
a condensing agent or an increase of temperature : 

CH.,.CH:0 CH:, CH.^ CH CH^ 

-H H.,N.CH:, + rO -> 

! I 

CH,.CH : t^H^ CH^ CH CF, 

N.nH, CO 

r.. niEMiSTiiv. i'O 

Although the yiehl was veiy small, it reached 42 per cent, when 
acetone was replaced by a salt of its dicarboxylic acid, which might 
easily arise from citric acid as one of the intermediate compounds used 
by plants in their synthetical exercises. 

Based upon this experiment, E. Robinson (1917) has developed an 
attractive explanation of the phytochemical synthesis of alkaloids, in 
which the genesis of a pyrrolidine, piperidine, quinunuclidine, or iso- 
quinoline group is shown to be capable of proceeding from the associa- 
tion and interaction of an amino-acid, formaldehyde, acetonedicarboxylic 
acid and the intermediate products of these, taking place under the 
influence of oxidation, reduction, and condensation such as the plant 
is known to effect. It would scarcely be fair to the resourceful skill 
embodied in this theory to attempt an abbreviated description of the 
methods by which molecules as complex even as those of morphine and 
narcotine may be developed. Ornithine (aS-diaminovaleric acid) is 
represented as the basis of liygrine, cus"liygriiie, and the tiopine alka- 
loids, wliilst the coniine group may spring from lysine (at-diamino- 
caproic acid). A particularly interesting application of these principles 
has been made with reference to the vital synthesis of harmine, which 
W. H. Perkin and R. Robinson (1919) represent as arising from a 
hydroxytryptophan as yet undiscovered ; meanwhile they have shown 
that harman is identical with the base obtained by Hopkins and Cole 
on oxidising tryptophan itself with ferric chloride. Thus it may be 
claimed that Robinson's theory represents a notable advance in our 
conception of these vital changes, and that by means of the carbinol- 
amine and aldol condensations involved fruitful inquiries into constitu- 
tion and the mechanism of synthesis will follow. 

The Nucleic Acids. 

Owing to the venerable position occupied by alkaloids in the sys- 
tematic development of chemical science, and to the success which 
has attended elucidation of their structure, many of us have become 
callous to the perpetual mystery of their elaboi^ation. Those who seek 
fresh wonders, however, need only turn to the nucleic acids in order 
to satisfy their curiosity. For in the nucleic acid of yeast the chemist 
finds a definite entity forming a landmark in the path of metabolic 
procedui-e, a connecting link betw-een the undefined molecules of living 
protein and the crystallisable products of katabolic disintegration. 

Let us review this remarkable substance. With an empirical 
formula, CagH^^O.^Ni-P^, it has a molecular weight (1303) exceeding 
that of the octndecapeptide (1213) synthesised by Fischer (1907), 
nlthough considerably below those of the penta-(penta-acetyl-7?i- 
digallovl)-^-giucose (2136) produced by Fischer and Bergmann (1918). 
and of the hepta-(tribenzovlgalloyi)-p-iodophenylmaltosazone (4021) 
elaborated by Fischer and Freudenberg (1912). Nevertheless, its in- 
trinsic importance is transcendent. In the language of chemistry it 
is a combination of, four nucleotides, linked with one another through 
the pentose molecule, J-rihose, which is common to each, and owing 
its acid chiii'ncter lo iiliospliniic' iici(l, ;ilRd cOninioii tt1 IJle Component 


nucleotides. The latter dift'er from one another in respect of their 
nitrogenous factors, which are guanine (2-amino-6-oxypurine), adenine 
(6-aminopurine), uracil (2 : 6-dioxypyrimidine), and cytosine (2-oxy-6- 
aminopyrimidine), giving their names to the four nucleotides linked with 
each other in the following manner : 

(HO).2PO.O.C.5H702.C.5H40N,, (guanine) 


(HO)oPO.O.C,H60.C4H40Na (cytosine) 


(HO).2PO.O.C5H60.C,H4N5 (adenine) 


(HO)oPO.O.C,-,H702.C4H;,0.2N2 (uracil) 

We owe this picture of plant nucleic acid to the combined researches 
of many chemists, conspicuous amongst whom is A. Kossel ; he derived 
purine bases from nucleins in the early eighteen-eighties, and subse- 
quently identified the products of completely hydrolysing the nucleic 
acids from yeast and from the thymus gland. Characterisation of 
intermediate products in such hydrolyses — namely, the nucleotides of 
guanine, cytosine, adenine, and uracil — with the corresponding nucleo- 
sides, guanosine, cytidine, adenosine, and uridine is due chiefly to 
W. Jones and to P. A. Levene, with whom was later associated W. A. 
Jacobs ; but the most picturesque of all contributions to the subject 
was made by the earliest of the systematic investigators, Friedrich 
Miescher, who followed his isolation of nuclein (nucleic acid) from pus 
cells (1868) by the remarkable discovery that the spermatozoa heads of 
Ehine salmon consist almost entirely of protamine nucleate (1874), and 
that this must have arisen, not directly from food, but from muscle 

Whilst the yeast cell and the wheat embryo have the power to 
synthesise nucleic acid of the structure represented above, the thymus 
gland elaborates another nucleic acid in which a hexose is substituted 
for J-ribose, and uracil is replaced by thymine, its methyl derivative 
(S-methyl-Q : 6-dioxypyrimidine) ; the order and mode of nucleotide 
linkage are also different. These nucleic acids, although deriving their 
carbohydrate and phosphoric acid from the nourishment on which the 
organism thrives, do not owe the purine factors to the same source ; 
in other words, the tissues must have power to synthesise a purine 
ring. The mechanism by which they exercise this power is one of the 
many problems which await elucidation, but arginine fa-amino-^- 
guanidinevaleric acid) has been indicated as one possible origin, whilst 
histidine (a-amino-^-imidazolylpropionic acid) may be a source of the 
pyrimidine nucleus. 

The transformations undergone by nucleic acid in contact with 
tissue-extracts have provided the subjects of numerous investigations 
extending over thirty years, In fact, the experimental material is of 



such voluminous complexity as lo he unintoUigihlo without the guidance 
of an expert, and in this capacity W. Jones has rendered valuable 
service by his recent lucid ai-rangement of the subject (1921). From 
this it is comparatively easy to follow the conversion of nucleic acid 
into uric acid thi'ough the agency of enzymes, and a review of these 
processes can serve only to increase our admiration for the precision 
and facility with which the chemical operations of the living body are 
conducted. Regarding for the sake of simplicity only the purine 
nucleotides, these are probably the hrst products of hydrolysing nucleic 
acid, and from them there may be liberated eitlier phosphoric acitl 
by a phospho-nuclease, or the purine-base by a purine-nuclease, giving 
rise to guanine and adenine, with their nucleosides, guanosine and 
adenosine. Thereafter the procedure is less obscure. The four pro- 
ducts exchange their amino-group for hydroxyl under the influence of 
their respective deaminase — namely, guanase, adenase, guanosine- 
deaminase or adenosine-deaminase. The two original nucleosides, with 
their corresponding derivatives, xanthosine and inosine, are then 
hydrolysed by their appropriate hydrolase, and the resulting oxypurines, 
xanthine and hypoxanthine, are further oxidised by xanthine-oxidase 
to uric acid. This is the concluding phase of purine metabolism in 
man and apes, but other animals are able to transform uric acid into 
allantoin by means of uricase. The changes may be represented 
diagramraatically as follows :-— 

Nucleic Acid 









Xanthine -<— 


Uric Acid 


>- Allantoin 

Considerable progress has been made also in localising the various 
enzymes among the organs of the body, particularly those of animals. 
Into the results of these inquiries it is not the purpose of this address 
to enter further than to indicate that they reveal a marvellous distribu- 
tion, throughout the organism, of materials able to exert at the proper 
moment those chemical activities appropriate to the changes which 
they are required to effect. The contemplation of such a system 
1921 V 


continuously, and in health unerringly, com^^leting a series of chemical 
changes so numerous and so diverse, must produce in every thoughtful 
mind a sensation of humble amazement. The aspect of this miraculous 
organisation which requires most to be emphasised, however, is that an 
appreciation of its complex beauty can be gained only by those to whom 
at least the elements of a training in chemistry have been vouchsafed. 
Such training has potential value from an ethical standpoint, for 
chemistry is a drastic leveller ; in the nucleic acids man discovers a kin- 
ship with yeast-cells, and in their common failure to transform uric 
acid into allantoin he finds a fresh bond of sympathy with apes. The 
overwhelming majority of people arrive at the grave, however, without 
having had the slightest conception of the delicate chemical machinery 
and the subtle physical changes which, throughout each moment of life, 
they have methodically and unwittingly operated. 

Chlorophyll and Hsemoglobin. 

To those who delight in tracing unity among the bewildering 
intricacies of natural processes, and by patient comparison of super- 
ficially dissimilar mateiials triumphantly to reveal continuity in the 
discontinuous, there is encouragement to be found in the relationship 
between chlorophyll and hasmoglobin. Even the most detached and 
cynical observer of human failings must glow with a sense of worship 
when he perceives this relationship, and thus brings himself to acknow- 
ledge the commonest of green plants among his kindred. Because, just 
as every moment of his existence depends upon the successful 
performance of its chemical duties by the heemoglobin of his blood 
corpuscles, so the life and growth of green plants hinge on the trans- 
formations of chlorophyll. 

The persevering elucidation of chlorophyll structure ranks high in 
the achievements of modern organic chemistry, and in its later stages 
is due principally to Willstatter and his collaborators, whose investiga- 
tions culminated in 1913. Eliminating the yellow and colourless 
companions of the substance by a regulated system of partition among 
solvents, they raised the chlorophyll content to 70 per cent, from the 
8 to 16 per cent, found in the original extract, completing the separation 
by utilising the insolubility of chlorophyll in petroleum ether. By 
such means, 1 kilogram of dried stinging-nettles gave 6.5 grams of the 
purified material, representing about 80 per cent, of the total amount 
which the leaf contains, and application of tlie process to fresh leave!? 
has estalilished the identity of the product from both sources. Thus 
the isolation of chlorophyll from plants is now no more difficult than 
that of alkaloids or of sugars, and may actually be demonstrated as a 
lecture-experiment . 

As a consequence of these operations the dual nature of leaf-green 

was brought to light in 1912. The focus of main phytochemical action 

is thus revealed as a system composed of chlorophyll-a, bluish-green 

in solution, and of the yellowisli-green chlorophyll-l;, I'epresenting 

different stages of oxidation as indicated by the formulte, 

(a) C3oH,oON4Mg(C0.2.CHO (C0.2.C.2oH,q) = C5,H,,0.,N4Mg 
(*) ("'.iH,H0,N4Mg(C0a.CH,,) (CO.,.C.,nH.<,<,) = C,,,HjnOf,N4Mg 

B.— f'HEMIRTRY. 43 

Til tlio solid form these products .iro niicro-crystallino powders, l)luish- 
black and greenish-black respectively. They are accompanied l)y two 
non-nitrogenous yellow pigments, the unsaturated hydrocarbon, 
carrotene, C,„H.b, and its oxide, xanthophyll, C.Jl-gO, both of which 
readily absorb oxygen and are allied to a third carrotinoid substance, 
fucoxanthin, C^uHs^Og, associated with tliem in brown algae and 
isolated in 1914. Based upon the experience indicated above, Will- 
statter and his colleagues have examined upwards of 200 plants drawn 
from numerous classes of cryptogams and phanerogams. The leaf- 
green of these is identical, and the proportion of a to h almost invariably 
approaches 3 : 1 excepting in the brown algap, in which b is scarcely 

'i'his is not an occasion to follow, otherwise than in the barest out- 
line, the course of laboratory disintegration to which the chloropliyll 
molecules liave been subjected by the controlled attack of alkalis and 
acids. The former agents reveal chlorophyll in the twofold character 
of a lactam and a dicarboxylic ester of methyl alcohol and phytol, an 
unsattu-ated primary alcohol, C,JT3,,.0H, of which the constitution 
remains obscure in spite of detailed investigation of its derivatives ; but 
the residual complex, representing two-thirds of the original molecule, 
has been carefully dissected. The various forms of this residual com- 
plex, when produced by the action of alkalis on chlorophyll, have 
lieen called ' phyllins ' ; they are carboxylic acids of nitrogenous ring- 
systems, which retain magnesium in direct combination with nitrogenl 
The porphyrins are the corresponding products arising by the action of 
acids ; they are carboxylic acids of the same nitrogenous ring-systems 
from which the magnesium has been removed. The phyllins and the 
porphyrins have alike been degraded to the crystalline base, jstiopor- 
phyrin, O^iHagN.,, into the composition of which four variously 
substituted pyrrole rings enter, probably as follows: — 

CH - CH 

CH3.C CH,. ^C C 

II >N Nf II 

^C cf 

C..H,.C^ C<r }C CC.H. 

I >NH HN< I ■ ^ 

CH3C --C ^C CCH3 

CH3 CH3 

.Etioporphyrin, CjiHj^N^. 

It is this assemblage of substituted pyrroles which, according to 
present knowledge, is the bafsic principle also of the blood-pigment, in 
which iron plays the part of magnesium in chlorophyll. Fundamental 
as is the difference between haemoglobin and chlorophyll, relationship 
can be claimed through this connecting-iink, because the same com- 
pound, aetioporphyrin, has been produced from haemoporphyrin, 
C33H3r,04N^, which is thus its dicarboxylic acid. Haemoporphyrin 
arises from haematoporphyrin, O.^HagOgN,, produced by the action of 
hydrobromic acid on ha^jnin, CjaHg^OjN.FeCl, which in turn is 
derived by exchanging chlorine for hydroxyl in haematin 

F 2 


CajHjiO.NjFe, the non-albiiminoid partner of globiu in h.ipmoglohin. 
Thus, omitting many intermediate stages, the rehilionship between 
chlorophyll and Juemoglobin may be sketched by the following 
diagram : — 

Chlorophyll Haemoglobin ^-Hamatiii 

I i 

Chlorophylliii ^5itio porphyrin Haemin 

Pyrrophyllin ^^ ' ^ Haeraatoporphyrin 

^tiophyllin Haemoporphyrin 

It must be remembered, liowever, that although recent years have 
witnessed great progress in elucidating the nature of clilorophyll and 
haemoglobin, the mechanism by which they act remains unrevealed. 
'J'lie famous assimilation hypothesis of von Baeyer, according to which 
it is formaldehyde which represents the connecting-link in the phyto- 
chemical synthesis of carbohydrate from carbon dioxide, was enunci- 
ated in 1870, and arose from Butlerow's preparation of methyienitan. 
In spite of numerous criticisms, some of which are quite recent, it 
remains unshaken. The line of such criticism has taken two direc- 
tions. On the one hand, H. A. Spoehr (1913), from experiments 
suggested by the fact that the morning acidity of plant juices diminishes 
or disappears on exposure to light, has shown that this change is 
photochemical only, and may be independent of enzymes, the volatile 
products including formaldehyde. Emil Baur (1908, 1910 and 1913! 
has urged the claims of oxalic acid to be regarded as the first product 
of assimilation, and shows how this may lead to the other plant-acids, 
glycollic, malic and citric, the first-named being a possible stepping- 
stone to the carbohydrates by resolution into formaldehyde (and formic 
acid), incidentally assuming towards malic and citric ncids the relation- 
ship which glucose bears to starch. On tlie other hand, K. A. Hofmann 
and Schumpelt (1916), preceded by Bredig (1914), have attacked the 
hypothesis on the ground of kinetics, and imagine an electrolytic 
resolution of water under the influence of light, which liberates oxygen 
and effects the reduction of carbon dioxide by hydrogen to formaldehyde? 
through formic acid. 

All these arguments have been weighed by Willstatter and Stoll 
(1917), who dismiss them on comparing the volume of carbon dioxide 
absorbed by leaves with the corresponding volume of oxygen liberated. 
They point out that this assimilatory quotient, CO„IO„, which should 
be unity in the case of formaldehyde, beconies 1.33, 2 and 4 in the case 
of glycollic, foraiic and oxalic acids respectively. Proceeding to deter- 
mine this quotient experimentally they found it to be unity, whether the 
temperature is 10° or 35", whether the atmosphere is rich in carbon 
dioxide or free from oxygen, and alike with ordinary foliage or cactus. 
Furthermore, they found (1917) that whilst organic liquids holding 
chlorophyll in solution do not absorb more carbon dioxide than the 


liquids themselves, this gas is absorbed much more freely by chlorophyl) 
hydrosols than by other colloidal solutions, a maximum assimilation of 
two molecular proportions to one magnesium atom being reached, when 
phscophytin is precipitated : — 

C55H7,05N4Mg + 2CO2 + 2H2O = C,V5H,40,N4 + Mg(HCOa),. 

Prior to this change, which is the first stage appearing in a controlled 
disruption of chlorophyll-a by mineral acids, there is produced an 
intermediate compound rescnnbling a hydrogen carbonate in which the 
metal retains a partial grip on the nitrogen : — 


=N.C: C.C.N.C— =N.C:C.C.NH.C— 

i ■;:■.• Mg + CO., + H.,0 ^:S '■;• Mg.O.CO,H 

=:X.C:C.C.N.C— =N.C:C.C.N.C— 


It is suggested that leaf-green unites with carbon dioxide by similar 
mechanism, and that the action of light on the above compound trans- 
forms the carbonic acid, into an isomei'ide having the nature of a 
peroxide such as per-formic acid, H.CO.O.OH, or formaldehyde 

peroxide, HO.CH< | . 

Anthocyans, the Pigments of Blossoms and Fruits. 

Since the days of Eden, gardens have maintained and extended 
their silent appeal to the more gentle emotions of mankind. The 
subject possesses a hterature, technical, philosophical, and romantic, 
at least as voluminous as that surrounding any other industrial art, 
and the ambition to cultivate a patch of soil has attracted untold 
millions of human beings. Amongst manual workers none maintains 
a standard of ordei-ly procedure and patient industry higher than that 
of the gardener. Kew and La Mortola defy the power of word-painters 
to condense their soothing beauty into adequate language, whilst that 
wonderful triangle of cultivation which has its apex at Grasse almost 
might be described as industry with a halo. 

To the countless host of flower-lovers, however, it is probable that 
Grasse is the only connecting-link between chemistry and their 
cherished blossoms, they being dimly aware that the ingi'edients of 
some natural perfumes have been imitated in the laboratory. The 
circumstance that identical products of change are generated by the 
plant, however, and form but one section of the numberless chemical 
elaborations which proceed before their eyes escapes them because it 
has been ordained that chemistry is to occupy a backwater in the flood 
of knowledge. Let us hope that before another century has passed 
this additional charm to the solace of a garden may be made more 
generally accessible. 


Even to chemists it is only during the last decade that the 
mechanism of blossom-chemistry has been revealed. The subject has 
indeed excited their attention since an earl}' period in the history of 
the organic branch, and the existing class-name for blossom-pigments 
was first used by Marquart in 1835 to distinguish blue colouring- 
matters occurring in flowers. It is also interesting to us to notice 
that in the following year Dr. Hope, who presided over the birth of 
the Chemistry Section at the Edinburgh meeting in 1834, described 
experiments conducted with blossoms representing many different 
orders, and devised a classification of the pigments which they contain. 
The recognition of glucosides amongst the anthocyans appears to have 
been first made as recently as 1894, by Heise ; about that period, also, 
it gradually became clear that the various colours assumed by flowers 
are not variations of a single substance common to all, but arise from 
a considerable number of non-nitrogenous pigments. Prior to 1913 the 
most fruitful attempt to isolate a colouring-matter from blossoms in 
quantity sufficient for detailed examination had been made by Grafe 
(1911), but the conclusions to which it led were inaccurate. In the 
year mentioned, however, Willstatter began to publish with numerous 
collaborators a series of investigations, extending over the next three 
years, which have brought the subject within the realm of systematic 
chemistry. For the purpose of distinguishing glucosidic and non- 
glucosidic anthocyans the names anthocyanin and anthocyanidin 
respectively were applied. The experimental separation of anthocyanins 
from anthocyanidins was effected by partition betw^een amyl alcohol 
and dilute mineral acid, the latter retaining the diglucosidic antho- 
cyanins in the form of oxonium salts and leaving the anthocyanidins 
quantitatively in the amyl alcohol, from which they are not removed 
by further agitation with dilute acid ; the monoglucosidic anthocyanins 
were found in both media, but left the amyl alcohol when offered fresh 
portions of dilute acid. 

The earliest of these papers, published in conjunction with A. E. 
Everest, dealt with cornflower pigments, and indicated that the dis- 
tinct shades of colour presented by different pai'ts of the flower are 
caused by various derivatives of one substance ; thus the blue form 
is the potassium derivative of a violet compound which is convertible 
into the red form by oxonium salt-formation with a mineral or plant 
acid. Moreover, as found in blossoms, the chromogen was observed 
to be combined with two molecular proportions of glucose and was 
isolated as crystalline cyanin chloride ; hydi'olysis removed the sugar 
and gave cyanidin chloride, also crystalline. Applying these methods 
more generally, Willstatter and his other collaborators have examined 
the chromogens which decorate the petals of rose, larkspur, hollyhock, 
geranium, salvia, chrysantheminn, gladiolus, ribes, tulip, zinnia, pansy, 
petunia, poppy, and aster, whilst the fruitskins of whortleberry, bil- 
berry, cranberry and cherry, plum, grape, and sloe have also been 
made to yield the pigment to which their characteristic appearance 
is due. 

The type of structural formula by which the anthocyanidins 
are now represented was proposed in 1914, simultaneously and 


independently by Willstatter and by Everest ; incidentally their separate 
memoirs afford an unusual example of synchronous publication, each 
having been communicated to the respective academies on the saii;e 
day, March 26th. Willstatter identified phloroglucinol (1:3: 5-trihy- 
droxybenzene) as a common product of hydrolysing anthocyanidins with 
alkali, obtaining also /)-hydroxybenzoic acid from pelargonidin, proto- 
catechuic (3 : 4-dihydroxybenzoic) acid from cyanidin, and gallic 
(3:4: 5-tnhydroxybenzoic) acid from delphinidin. Accordingly he 
suggested for the anthocyanidin chlorides two alternative formulci?-, 
O.Cl O.Cl 

HO f ^r YiCX and HO ( ^r f|CH 


in which X represents the substituted benzene ring which appears 
in the form of a phenolcarboxylic acid on hydrolysis. Later in the 
same year he confirmed (with Mallison) the former of these repre- 
sentations by reducing quercitin to cyanidin chloride, 


<^^/\c <^ \oH HO 1^ N^^iC C > OH 



and (with Zechmeister) by effecting a complete synthesis of pelar- 
gonidin chloride, 



from 2:4: G-trihydroxybenzaldehyde. 

Everest reached the same conclusion by recognising the significance 
of the fact that a flavone, e.g., luteolin, and a flavonol, e.g., morin, 
yield red pigments on reduction ; he therefore reduced quercitrin (the 
rliamnoside of quercitin) to cyanidin, and rutin (the rhanmoglucoside 
of quercitin, and identical with osyritin, myrticolorin, and violaqucr- 
citi'in) to cyanin. Moreover, he showed that the petals of many yellov/ 
flowers, e.g., daffodil, wallflower, tulip, crocus, jasmin, primrose, anl 
viola, or the white blossoms of narcissus, primula, and tulip, all yield 
red pigments on car-eful reduction, and in subsequent papers (e.g., 
with A. J. Hall, 1921) has indicated reduction of yellow sap-pigments 
belonging to the flavonol group as representing the probable course 
of anthocyan-formation in plants. In this connection it is noteworthy 
that an association between the pigments of sap and of blossoms was 
adumbrated in 1855 by Martens, who suggested that a faintly vellow 
substance in plant sap, when oxidised in presence of alkalis and light, 
produces the yellow pigments, and that these, by further oxidation. 


change into the red colouring-matters. Everest has shown tliat reduc- 
tion is the process actually involved and that flavonols are the pre- 
cursors of anthocyans, not vice versa as suggested by other investi- 
gators ; moreover, he found (1918) that ' Black Knight ' petals contain 
a glucoside of delphinidin, whilst the corresponding fiavonol, myricetin, 
is present in the sap, also as a glucoside : 



Myricetin. Delphinidin Chloride. 

Hence it will be seen that pelargonidin, cyanidin, and delphinidin, 
corresponding to the three above-mentioned phenolcarboxylic acids, are 
the fundamental materials in the group of anthocyan pigments, and 
that they are derived from the three flavonols, kaempferol, quercitin, 
and myricetin respectively. The variations upon these types which 
present themselves in blossoms are twofold, due to (1) the number and 
position of entrant methyl groups, and (2) the number and character 
of the aldose molecules which go to form their glucosides. Belonging 
to the first group are peonidin (monomethylated cyanidin), ampelop- 
sidin, myrtillidin, and petunidin (monomethylated delphinidin) with 
malvidin and oenidin (dimethylated delphinidin). The second group 
arise from combination with glucose, galactose or rhamnose, the 
greatest propoiiion of pigments occurring as mono- or diglucosides. 
Thus callistephin and salvinin are the mono- and diglucoside of pelar- 
gonidin ; asterin and chrysanthemin are monoglucosides and idaein a 
galactoside of cyanidin, derived from which are the diglucosides cyanin 
and mekocyanin, and the rhamnoglucoside, keracyanin; violanin is a 
rhamnoglucoside of delphinidin, whilst delphinin, when hydrolysed with 
hydrochloric acid, yields delphinidin chloride, glucose and p-hydroxy- 
benzoic acid in the molecular proportion, 1 : 2 : 2. 

Thus may the chemist find fresh delight in the hedgerow and the 
garden by reflecting on the processes which lead to molecular structures 
lying well within his mental horizon, and adorning those familiar models 
with all the chromatic splendours of snapdragon, pansy, rose, and 
larkspur. The gustatory and aesthetic thrill engendered in consuming 
summer pudding and custard is heightened by the soothing blend of 
egg-yolk lutein and the crimson contributed to the colour scheme by 
the raspberry and cuiTant anthocyanins. 


Amongst the many sources of pleasure to be found in contemplating 
the wonders of the universe, and denied to those untrained in scientific 
principles, is an appreciation of infra-minute quantities of matter. It 
may be urged by some that within the limits of vision imposed by 
telescope and microscope, ample material exists to satisfy the curiosity 
of all reasonable people, but the appetite of scientific inquiry is in- 
satiable, and chemistry alone, organic, inorganic, and physical, offers an 


instrument by which the investigation of basal changes may be caiTied to 
rogions beyond those encompassed by the astronomer and the 

It is not within the purpose of this address to survey that revolu- 
tion which is now taking place in the conception of atomic structure ; 
contributions to this question will be made in our later proceedings 
and will be followed with deep interest by all members of the Section. 
Fortunately for our mental balance the discoveries of the current 
century, whilst profoundly modifying the atomic imagery inherited 
from our predecessors, have not yet sei-iously disturbed the principles 
underlying systematic organic chemistry, but they emphasise in a 
forcible manner the intimate connection between different branches 
of science, because it is from the mathematical physicist that these new 
ideas have sprung. Their immediate value is to reaffirm the outstanding 
importance of borderline research and to stimulate interest in sub- 
microscopic matter. 

This interest presents itself to the chemist very early in life and 
dominates his operations with such insistence as to become axiomatic. 
So much so that he regards the universe as a vast theatre in which 
atomic and molecular units assemble and interplay, the resulting 
patterns into which they fall depending on the physical conditions 
imposed by nature. This enables him to regard micro-organisms as 
co-practitioners of his craft, and the chemical achievements of these 
humble agents have continued to excite his admiration since they were 
revealed by Pasteur. The sixty years which have now elapsed are rich 
in contributions to that knowledge which comprises the science of micro- 
biochemistry, and in this province, as in so many others, we have to 
deplore the fact that the principal advances have been made in countries 
other than our own. On this ground, foi-tified by the intimate relation 
of the science to a number of important influstries, A. Chaston 
Chapman, in a series of illuminating and attractive Cantor Lectures in 
December, 1920, iterated his plea of the previous year for the founda- 
tion of a National Institute of Industrial Micro-biology, whilst H. E. 
Armstrong, in Birmingham a few weeks later, addi'essed an appeal 
to the brewing industry, which, although taking the form of a memorial 
lectui-e, is endowed with many lively features depicting in characteristic 
form the manner in which the problems of brewing chemistry should, 
in his opinion, be attacked. 

Lamenting as we now do so bitterly the accompaniments and conse- 
quences of war, it is but natural to snatch at the slender compensations 
which it offers, and not the least among these must be recognised the 
stinuilus which it gives to scientific inquiry. Pasteur's Etudes sur la 
Biere were inspired by the misfortunes which overtook his country in 
1870-71, and the now well-known process of Connstein and Ltidecke 
for augmenting the production of glycerol from glucose was engendered 
by parallel circumstances. That acquaintance with the yeast-cell 
which was an outcome of the former event had, by the time of the 
latter discoveiy, ripened into a firm friendship, and those who slander 
the chemical activities of this genial fungus are defaming a potential 
benefactor. Equally culpable are those who ignore them. If children 


were encouraged to cherish the same inteUigent sympathy with yeast- 
cells which they so willingly display towards domestic animals and 
silkworms, perhaps there would be fewer crazy dervishes to deny us the 
moderate use of honest malt-liquors and unsophisticated wines, fewer 
pitiable maniacs to complicate our social problems by habitual excess. 

Exactly how the cell accomplishes its great adventure remains a 
puzzle, but many parts of the machinery have already been recognised. 
Proceeding from the discovery of zymase (1897), with passing refer- 
ence to the support thus given by Buchner to Liebig's view of fermenta- 
tion. Chapman emphasises the importance of contributions to the 
subject by Harden and W. J. Young, first in revealing the dual nature 
of zymase and the distinctive properties of its co-enzyme (1904), next 
in recognising the acceleration and total increase in fermentation 
produced by phosphates, consequent on the formation of a hexose- 
diphosphate (1908): 

2C6H12O6 -h 2Na.2HP04 = 2CO2 + 2C.iH60 -h C6Hio04(P04Na.,)., -f- 2H.2O. 

In this connection it will be remembered that a pentose-phosphate 
is common to the fom* nucleotides from which yeast nucleic acid is 
elaborated. The stimulating effect developed by phosphates would not 
be operative if the cell were not provided with an instrument for 
hydi'olysing the hexose-diphosphate as produced, and this is believed 
by Harden to be supplied in the form of an enzyme, hexosephosphatase, 
the operation of which completes a cycle. As to the stages of dis- 
ruption which precede the appearance of alcohol and carbon dioxide, 
that marked by pyruvic acid is the one which is now most favoured. 
The transformation of pyruvic acid into acetaldehyde and carbon dioxide 
under the influence of a carboxylase, followed by the hydi'ogenation 
of aldehyde to alcohol, is a more acceptable course than any alternative 
based upon lactic acid., Moreover, Fernbach and Schoen (1920) have 
confirmed their previous demonstration (1914) of pyruvic acid formation 
by yeast during alcoholic fermentation. 

The strict definition of chemical tasks allotted to yeasts, moulds, and 
bacteria suggests an elaborate system of microbial trades-unionism. 
E. C. Grey (1918) found that Bacillus coli communis will, in presence 
of calcium carbonate, completely ferment forty times its own weight 
of glucose in forty-eight hours, and later (1920) exhibited the threefold 
character of the changes involved which produce (1) lactic acid, 
(2) alcohol with acetic and succinic acids, (3) formic acid, carbon 
dioxide, and hydrogen. Still more recent extension of this inquiry by 
Grey and E. G. Young (1921) has shown that the course of sucli 
changes will depend on the previous experience of the microbe. When 
its immediate past history is anferobic, fermentation under anaerobic 
conditions yields very little or no lactic acid and greatly diminishes 
the production of succinic acid, whilst acetic acid appears in its place ; 
admission of oxygen during fermentation increases the formation of 
lactic, acetic, and succinic acids, diminishes the formation of hydrogen, 
carbon dioxide, and formic acid, but leaves the quantity of alcohol 
unchanged. The well-known oxidising effect of Aspergillus niger has 
been shown by J. N. Currie (1917) to proceed in three stages marked by 



citric acid, oxalic acid, and carbon dioxide, whilst Wehmer (1918) 
has described the conditions under which citric acid and, principally, 
fumaric acid are produced by Aspergillus fiiinaricus, a mould also 
requiring oxygen for its purpose. The lactic bacteria are a numerous 
family and resemble those producing acetic acid in their venerable 
record of service to mankind, whilst among the most interesting of the 
parvenus are those responsible for the conversion of starch into butyl 
alcohol and acetone. Although preceded by Schardinger (1905), who 
discovered the ability of B. macerans to produce acetone with acetic 
and formic acids, but does not appear to have pursued the matter 
further, the process associated with the name of A. Fernbach, and the 
various modifications which have been introduced during the past ten 
years are those best known in this country, primarily because of the 
anticipated connection with synthetic rubber, and latterly on account 
of the acetone famine arising from the War. The King's Lynn factory 
was resuscitated and arrangements had just been completed for adapting 
spirit distilleries to application of the process when, owing to the 
shortage of raw material in 1916, operations were transferred to 
Canada and ultimately attained great success in the factory of British 
Acetones, Toronto. 

Much illuminating material is to be found in the literature of 1919-20 
dealing with this question in its technological and bacteriological aspects. 
Ingenuity has been displayed in attempting to explain the chemical 
mechanism of the process, the net result of which is to produce roughly 
twice as much butyl alcohol as acetone. The fermentation itself is 
pi'eceded by saccharification of the starch, and in this respect the bacteria 
resemble those moulds which have lately been bi-ought into the technical 
operation of starch-conversion, especially in France. The amyloclastic 
])roperty of certain moulds has been known from very early times, but 
its application to spirit manufacture is of recent growth and underlies 
the amylo-process which substitutes Mucor Boulard for malt in effecting 
saccharification. Further improvement on this procedure is claimed for 
B. mesentericus, which acts with great rapidity on gi-ain which has 
been soaked in dilute alkali ; it has the advantage of inferior proteolytic 
effect, thus diminishing the waste of nitrogenous matter in the raw 

Eeviewing all these circumstances we find that, just as the ranks 
of trades-union labour comprise every kind of handicraftsman, the 
practitioners of micro-biochemistry ai'e divisible into producers of 
hydrogen, carbon dioxide, formic acid, acetaldehyde, ethyl alcohol, 
acetic, oxalic, and fumaric acids, acetone, dihydroxyacetone, glycerol, 
pyruvic, lactic, succinic and citric acids, butyl alcohol, butyric acid. 
Exhibiting somewhat greater elasticity in respect O'f overlapping tasks, 
they nevertheless go on strike if imderfed or dissatisfied with their 
conditions; on the other hand, with sufficient nourishment and an 
agreeable temperatui'e, these micro-trades-unionists display the unusual 
merit of working for twenty-four hours a day. One thing, however, 
they have consistently refused to do. Following his comparison of 
natural and synthetic monosaccharides towards different families of 
yeast (1894), Fischer and others have attempted to beguile unsuspecting 


microbes into acceptance of molecules which do not harmonise with 
their own enzymic asymmetry. Various aperitifs have been 
administered by skilled chefs de cuisine, but hitherto the little fellows 
have remained obdurate. 


Beyond a placid acceptance of the more obvious benefits of sunshine, 
the great majority of educated people have no real conception of the 
sun's contribution to their existence. What proportion of those who 
daily use the metropolitan system of tube-railways, for instance, could 
trace the connection between their progress and the sun ? Very moderate 
instruction comprising the elements of chemistry and energy would 
enable most of us to apprehend this modern wonder, contemplation 
of which might help to alleviate the distresses and exasperation of the 

For many years past, the problem connected with solar influence 
which has most intrigued the chemist is to unfold the mechanism 
enabling gi-een plants to assimilate nitrogen and carbon. Although 
atmospheric nitrogen ha& long been recognised as the ultimate supply 
of that element from which phyto-protoplasm is constructed, modern 
investigation has indicated as necessary a stage involving association 
■of combined nitrogen with the soil pi-ior to absorption of nitrogen 
•compounds by the roots, with or without bacterial co-operation. Con- 
currently, the agency by which green plants assimilate carbon is 
■believed to be chlorophyll, operating under solar influence by some 
such mechanism as has been indicated in a preceding section. 

Somewhat revolutionary views on these two points have lately been 
expressed by Benjamin Moore, and require the strictest examination, 
not merely owing tO' the fundamental importance of an accurate solution 
being reached, but also on account of the stimulating and engaging 
manner in which he presents the problem. Unusual psychological 
features have been introduced. Moore's ' Biochemistry,' published 
three months ago, will be read attentively by many chemists, but the 
clarity of presentation and the happy sense of conviction which pervade 
its pages must not be allowed to deter independent inquirers from 
confirming or modifying his conclusions. The book assumes a novel 
biochemical aspect by describing the life-history of a research. The 
first two chapters, written before the experiments were begun, suggest 
the conditions in which the birth of life may have occurred, whilst 
their successors describe experiments which were conducted as a test of 
the speculations and are already receiving critical attention from others 
(e.g., Baly, Heilbron and Barker, Transactions of the Chemical 
Society, 1921, p. 1025). 

It is with these experiments that we are, at the moment, most 
concerned. The earliest were directed towards the synthesis of simple 
organic materials by a ti'ansfonnation of light energy under the influ- 
ence of inorganic colloids, and indicated that formaldehyde is produced 
when carbon dioxide passes into uranham or ferric hydroxide sols 
exposed to sunlight or the mercury arc lamp. Moore then declares 


that, nliliniigh since the days of de Saussiire (1804) clilorophyll has been 
regarded as the fundamental agent in tlie photosynthesis of living 
matter, there is no experimental evidence that the primary agent may 
not be contained in the colourless part of the chloroplast, chlorophyll 
thus being the result of a later synthetic stage. ' The function of 
the chlorophyll may be a protective one to the chlorojjlast when exposed 
to light, it may be a light screen as has been suggested by Pringsheim, 
or it may be conctrned in condensations and ]iolyinerisations subsequent 
to the first act of synthesis with production of fornuildehyde ' (p. 55). 
In this connection it is significant that chlorosis of green plants will 
follow a deficiency of iron even in presence of sunlight (Molisch, 1892), 
and that development of chlorophyll can be restored by supplying this 
deficiency, although iron is not a component of the chlorophyll molecule ; 
moreover, green leaves etiolated by darkness and then exposed to light 
regain their chlorophyll, which is therefore itself a product arising from 

H.Thiele (1907) recorded the swift conversion of nitrate into nitrite 
by the rays from a mercury quartz lamp, whilst O. Baudisch (1910) 
observed that daylight effects the same change, and from allied observa- 
tions was led (1911) to conclude that assimilation of nitrate and nitrite 
by green plants is a photochemical process. Moore found (1918) that 
in solutions of nitrate undergoing this reduction green leaves check the 
accumulation of nitrite, indicating their capacity to absorb the more 
active compound. Proceeding from the hypothesis that one of the 
organisms arising earliest in the course of evolution must have 
possessed, united in a single cell, the dual function of assimilating both 
carbon and nitrogen, he inquired (1918) whether the simplest unicellular 
algae may not also have this power. He satisfied himself that in 
absence of all sources of nitrogen excepting atmospheric, and in presence 
of carbon dioxide, the unicellular algse can fix nitrogen, grow and form 
l^roteins by transfoi'mation of light energy ; the rate of growth is 
accelerated by the presence of nitrites or oxides of nitrogen, the latter 
being supplied in gaseous form by the atmosphere. From experiments 
(1919) with gi'een seaweed (Enteromorpha compressus), Moore con- 
cluded also that marine algae assimilate carbon from the bicarbonates 
of calcium and magnesium present in sea-water, which thereby increases 
in alkalinity, and further convinced himself that the only source of 
nitrogen available to such gi'owth is the atmosphere. A description of 
these experiments, which were can-ied out in conjunction wdth 
E. Whitley and T. A. Webster, has appeared also in the Proceedings 
of the Eoyal Society (1920 and 1921). 

For the purpose of distinguishing between (1) the obsolete view 
of a vital force disconnected with such forms of energy as are exhibited 
by non-living transformers and (2) the existence in living cells of only 
such energy forms as are encountered in non-living systems, Moore 
uses the expression ' biotic energy ' to represent that form of energy 
peculiar to living matter. ' The conception, in brief, is that biotic 
energy is just as closely, and no more, related to the various forms 
of energy existing apart from life, as these are to one another, and that 
in presence of the proper and adapted energy transformer, the living 


cell, it is capable of being formed from or converted into various of 
these other forms of energy, the law of conservation of energy being 
obeyed in the process just as it would be if an exchange were taking 
place between any two or more of the inorganic forms ' (p. 128). The 
most characteristic feature of biotic energy, distinguishing it from all 
other forms, is the power which it confers upon the specialised trans- 
former to proliferate. 


In ' The Salvaging of Civilisation, ' H. G. Wells has lately directed 
the attention of thoughtful people to the imperative need of reconstruct- 
ing our outlook on life. Convinced that the state-motive which, 
throughout history, has intensified the self-motive must be replaced by 
a world-motive if the whole fabric of civilisation is not to crumble in 
ruins, he endeavours to sul)stitute for a League of Nations the con- 
ception of a World State. In the judgment of many quite benevolent 
critics his essay in abstract thought lacks practical value because it 
underestimates the combative selfishness of individuals. Try to disguise 
it as one may, this quality is the one which has enabled man to emerge 
from savagery, to build up that most wonderful system of colonial 
organisation, the Eoman Empire, and to shake off the barbaric lethargy 
which engulfed Europe in the centuries following the fall of Rome. The 
real problem is how to harness this combative selfishness. To eradicate 
it seems impossible, and it has never been difficult to find glaring 
examples of its insistence among the apostles of eradication. Why ciy 
for the moon '? Is it not wiser to recognise this quality as an inherent 
human characteristic, and whether we brand it as a vice or applaud it 
as a virtue endeavour to bend it to the elevation of mankind? For it 
could so be bent. Nature ignored or misunderstood is the enemy of 
man; nature studied and controlled is his friend. If the attacking 
force of this combative selfishness could be directed, not towards the 
perpetuation of quarrels between different races of mankind, but against 
nature, a limitless field for patience, industry, ingenuity, imagination, 
scholarship, aggressiveness, rivalry, and acquisitiveness would present 
itself; a field in which the disappointment of baffled effort would not 
need to seek revenge in the destruction of our fellow-creatures : a 
field in which the profit from successful enterprise would automatically 
spread through all the communities. Surely it is the nature-motive, 
as distinct from the state-motive or the world-motive, which alone can 
salvage civilisation. 

Before long, as history counts time, dire necessity will have impelled 
mankind to some such course. Already the straws are giving their 
proverbial indication. The demand for wheat by increasing popula- 
tions, the rapidly diminishing supplies of timber, the wasteful ravages 
of insect pests, the less obvious, but more insidious depredations of 
our microscopic enemies, and the blood-curdling fact that a day must 
dawn when the last ton of coal and the last gallon of oil have been 
consumed, are all circumstances which, at present recognised by a small 
number of individuals comprising the scientific community, must 
inevitably thrust tliemselves upon mankind collectively. In the 

B.-f'HEMTSTRV. •>" 

campaign which then will follow, choniistiy must occupy a prominent 
place because it is this branch of science which deals with matter more 
intimately than any other, revealing its properties, its transformations, 
its application to existing needs, and its response to new demands. 
Yet the majority of our people are denied the elements of chemistry 
in their training, and thus grow to manhood without the slightest real 
understanding of their bodily processes and composition, of the wizardry 
by which living things contribute to their nourishment and to their 
aesthetic enjoyment of Ufe. 

It should not be impossible to bring into the general scheme of 
secondary education a sufficiency of chemical, physical, mechanical, 
and biological principles to render every boy and girl of sixteen 
possessing average intelligence at least accessible by an explanation of 
moi^lem discoveries. One fallacy of the present system is to assume 
tliat relative proficiency in the inorganic brancli must be attained before 
approaching organic chemistry. From the standpoint of correlating 
scholastic knowledge with the common experiences and contacts of daily 
life this is quite illogical; from baby's milk to gi'andpapa's Glaxo 
the most important things are organic, excepting water. Food (meat, 
carbohydrate, fat), clothes (cotton, silk, linen, wool), and shelter (wood) 
are organic, and the symbols for carbon, hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen 
can be made the basis of skeleton representations of many fundamental 
things which happen to us in our daily lives without first explaining 
their position in the periodic table of all the elements. The curse of 
mankind is not labour, but waste; misdirection of time, of material, of 
opportunity, of humanity. 

Eealisation of such an ideal would people the ordered communities 
with a public alive to the verities, as distinct from irrelevancies of life, 
and appreliensive of the ultimate danger with which civilisation is 
threatened. It would inoculate that public with a germ of the nature- 
motive, producing a condition which would reflect itself ultimately upon 
those entnisted with government. It would provide the mental and 
sympathetic background upon w-hich the future truthseeker must work, 
long before he is implored by a terrified and despairing people to provide 
them, with food and energy. Finally, it would give an unsuspected 
meaning and an unimagined grace to a hundred commonplace 
experiences. The quivering glint of massed bluebells in broken sun- 
shine, the joyous radiance of young beech-leaves against the stately 
cedar, the perfume of hawthorn in the twilight, the florid majesty of 
rhododendron, the fragrant simplicity of lilac, periodically gladden the 
most careless heart and the least reverent spirit ; but to the chemist 
they breathe an added message, the assurance that a new season of 
refreshment has dawned upon the world, and that those delicate 
syntheses, into the mystery of which it is his happy privilege to 
penetrate, once again are working their inimitable miracles in the 
laboratory of the living organism. 



J. S. ELETT, D.Sc, LL.D., P.E.S., 


Among the citizens of Edinburgli in tlie closing years of tlie eighteenth 
century there was a brilliant little group of scientific, literary, and 
philosophical writers. These were the men who founded the Royal 
Society of Edinburgh in the year 1783, and many of their important 
papers appear in the early volumes of its Transactions. Among them 
were Adam Ferguson, the historian and philosopher; Black, the chemist 
who discovered carbonic acid and the latent heat of water; Hope, who 
proved the expansion ol water on cooling; Clerk of Eldin, who made 
valuable advances in the theory of naval tactics, and his brother, Sir 
George Clerk; Hutton, the founder of modern geology; and Sir James 
Hall, the experimental geologist. These men were all intimate friends 
keenly interested in one another's researches. Quite the most notable 
member of this group was Hutton, who, not mainly for his eminence 
in geology, but principally for his social gifts, his bonhomie, and his 
versatility, was regarded as the centre of the circle. Hutton showed 
an extraordinary combination of qualities. His father was Town Clerk 
of Edinburgh. After starting as an apprentice to a Writer to the 
Signet, he took up the study of medicine at the Universities of Edin- 
burgh and Paris, and graduated at Leyden. He then became a farmer 
on his father's property in Berwickshire, and also carried on chemical 
manufactures in Leith in partnership with Mr. Davie. He studied 
methods of agriculture in England and elsewhere, and was an active 
supporter of the movement for improving Scottish agriculture by intro- 
ducing the best methods of other countries. A burning enthusiast in 
geology, especially in the ' theory of the earth,' he travelled extensivelv 
in Scotland, England, and on the Continent making geological 

His interests were not confined to geology, for he wrote a treatise 
on metaphysics, which seems to have been more highly esteemed in his 
day than in ours, and in his last years he produced a work on agri- 
culture which was never published. The manuscript of this work is 
now in the library of the Edinburgh Geological Society. He also made 
interesting contributions to meteorology. Hutton 's writings are as 
obscure and involved as his conversation was clear and persuasive, and 
it is only from the accounts of his friends, and especially Playfair's 
' Life of Hutton,' that we can really ascertain what manner of man 
he was. 

It could easily have happened that when Hutton died his unread- 
able writings might have passed out of notice, to be rediscovered at a 
subsequent time, when their value could be better appreciated. But 
Playfair's 'Explanations of the Hutton Theory,' as attractive and 


convincing still as wlien it was originally published, established at 
once the true position of Hutton as one of the founders of geology. 
Sir James Hall undertook a different task : he determined to put Hutton 's 
theories to the lest of experiment, and in so doing he became the 
virtual founder of modern experimental geology. It is my purpose 
in this address to show what were the problems that Hall attacked, 
by what methods he attempted to solve them, and what were his results. 
I shall also consider how tar the progress of science has carried us since 
Hall's time regarding this department of geological science. 

Hutton was a friend of Hall's father: they were proprietors of 
adjacent estates in the county of Berwick, and much interested in the 
improved practice of agriculture, and though the elder Hall (Sir John 
Hall of Dunglass) has apparently left no scientific writings, he was one 
of those who were familiar with Hutton 's theories and a member of 
the social group in which Hutton moved. Sir James Hall was the 
eldest son ; born in 1761, he succeeded to the estate on his father's death 
in 1776. Educated first at Cambridge and then at Edinburgh University. 
at an early age he became fascinated by Hutton 's personality, though 
repelled by his theories. He tells us how for three years he argued 
with Hutton daily, rejecting his principles. Hutton prevailed in the 
long run, and Sir James Hall was convinced. Hall's objection to 
Hutton 's theories is not difficult to understand, though he has not 
himself explained it. The world was sick of discussions on cosmogony 
in which rival theorists appealed to well-known facts as proof of the 
most extravagant speculations. Serious-minded men were losing interest 
in these proceedings. The Geological Society of London was founded 
in 1807, and one of its objects is stated to be the avoidance of specula- 
tion and the patient accumulation of facts. No doubt Hall also was 
greatly influenced by the discoveries that Black and Hope had made by 
pure experimental investigation. His bent of mind was towards 
chemical, physical, and experimental work, while Hutton was not only 
a geologist but also a metaphysician. 

Foreign travel was then an essential part of the education of a 
Scottish gentleman, and the connection between Prance, Holland, and 
Scotland was closer than it is to-day. Hall travelled widely ; in his 
travels two subjects seem to have especially engrossed him. One was 
architecture, on which he wrote a treatise which was published in 1813 
and is now forgotten. The other was geology. He visited the Alps. 
Italy, and Sicily. In Switzerland he may have met De Saussure and 
discussed with him the most recent theories of their time regarding 
metamorphism and the origin of granites, schists, and gneisses. In 
Italy and Sicily one of his objects was to observe the phenomena of 
active volcanoes, and to put to the test of facts the theories of Wernei: 
and of the Scottish school regarding the origin of basalt, whinstone, 
trap, and the older volcanic rocks of the earth's crust. At Vesuvius 
he made his famous observation of the dykes that rise nearly vertically 
throueb the crater wall of Sorama, which he held to prove the ascent 
of molten magma from below through fissures tO' the surface. This was 
in opposition to the interpretation of the "Wernerians. ,who regarded 
^b.em as filled frbitl ahove by atjuebu^ Sedimfents, and Hall's conclu- 
1921 b 


sions, which were strikingly novel at the time, have been abundantly 

We obtain a pleasant glimpse of Hall's life in Berwickshire in the 
account of his visit with Hutton and Playfair to Siccar Point in the 
year 1788. The start was made from Dunglass, where probably the 
party had spent the night. The great conglomerates of the Upper 
Old Eed Sandstone of that district had much impressed Hutton. He 
saw in them the evidence of new worlds built out of the ruins of the 
old, with no sign of a beginning and no prospect of an end — a thesis 
which was one of the corner-stones of his ' Theory of the Earth. ' No 
doubt Hall knew or suspected that in the cliff-exposures at Siccar 
Point, where the Old Eed rests upon the Silurian, there was evidence 
which would put this dogma to a critical test. 

Hall's first experiments were begun in the year 1790, his object 
being to ascertain whether crystallisation would take place in a molten 
lava which was allowed to cool slowly. It was generally believed that 
the results of fusion of rocks and earths were in all cases vitreous, but 
glassmakers knew that if glass was very slowly cooled, as sometimes 
happened when a glass furnace burst, the whole mass assumed a stony 
appearance. An instance of this had come under Hall's notice in a 
glasswoi-ks in Leith, and its application to geology was clear. Hutton 
taught that even such highly crystalline rocks as granite had been com- 
pletely fused at the time of their injection, and their coarse crystallisa- 
tion was mainly due to slow cooling. 

For the purpose of his experiments Hall selected certain whin- 
stones of the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, such as the dolerites of the 
Dean, Salisbury Crags, Edinburgh Castle, the summit of Arthur's 
Seat, and Duddingston; but he also used lava from Vesuvius. Etna, 
and Iceland. He made choice of graphite crucibles, and conducted his 
experiments in the reverberatory furnace of an iron foundry belonging 
to Mr. Barker. As had been shown by Spallanzani, to whose experi- 
ments Hall does not refer, lavas are easily fusible under these con- 
ditions. Hall had no difficulty in melting the whinstones and obtaining 
completely glassy products by rapid cooling. He now proceeded to 
crystallise the glass by melting it again, transferring it from the 
furnace to a large open fire, where it was kept surrounded by burning 
coals for many hours, and thereafter very slowly cooled by allowing 
the fire to die out. He succeeded in obtaining a stony mass in which 
crystals of felspar and other minerals could be clearly seen. Some of 
his specimens were considered to be very similar in appearance to the 
dolerites on which his experiments were made. 

The only means of measuring furnace temperatures available at 
that time were the pyrometers which had recently been invented by 
Wedgwood. Hall found that a temperature of 28 to 30 Wedgwood 
yielded satisfactory results. This seems to be about the melting-point 
of copper, approximately 1000° C. 

Whether by design or accident, Hall chose for his experiments 
precisely the rocks which were most suitable for his purpose. If 
granite had been selected no definite results would have been obtained. 
De SausSure had already made fusion experiments on granite. Ninety 


years ■ afterwards the problem was completely solved by Fouqu6 and 
Levy, who used a gas furnace and a nitrogen thermometer. They 
found that it was possible to obtain either porphyritic or ophitic struc- 
tui-e by moflifying the conditions, and that the minerals had exactly 
tile characters of those of the igneous rocks. Some of Hall's re- 
crystallised dolerites were examined microscopically by Fouque and 
L6vy, and, as might be expected, they proved to be only partly 
crystallised, showing skeleton crystals of olivine and felspar with 
grains of iron ore in a glassy base. 

Some curious observations made by Hall in his experimental work 
were also confirmed by Fouqu6 and Levy. The crystalline whinstones 
were more difficult to melt than the glasses which were obtained from 
them, and the glass crystallised best when kept for a time at a tem- 
perature a little above its softening point. It is not possible to assign 
a definite melting-point to the Scottish whinstones with which Hall 
worked. Many of them contain zeolites, which fuse readily. Minerals 
are also present that decompose on lieating, such as calcite, dolomite, 
chlorite, and serpentine. The whole process is very complex, and 
probably takes place by several stages not sharply distinct. Similarly 
the glasses cannot be said to have a melting-point. They are really 
super-cooled liquids. A full explanation of what took place in Hall's 
crucibles cannot be given at the present day, but there is no room 
for doubt that his experiments were good and his infei'ences accurate. 
His friend Kennedy, who had recently discovered the presence of 
alkahs in igneous rocks, furnished valuable support to Hall's conclu- 
sions by showing that the chemical composition of whinstone and of 
basalt were substantially identical. 

Apparently the results of Hall's work were not received with 
unmixed approbation. Hutton was distinctly uneasy, and it has been 
suggested that he feared if experimental work turned out unsuc- 
cessful it might bring his theories into discredit. The Wernerians 
frankly scoffed; they preferred argument to experiment, and the endless 
discussion went on. Gregory Watt repeated Hall's experiments by 
fusing Glee Hill dolerite, a hundredweight or two at a time, in a blast- 
furnace. But there can be no doubt that among those who were not 
already committed to the principles of Werner the new evidence pro- 
duced a strong impression, and helped to widen the circle of Hutton 's 

Hall's most famous experiments were on the effect of heat com- 
bined with pressure on carbonate of lime. The problem was, Gan 
powdered chalk be converted into firm limestone or into marble by 
heating it in a confined space? In this case Hutton 's theories were 
in apparent conflict with experimental facts ; from general observations 
he held it proved that heat and pressure had consolidated limestones 
and converted them into marbles. It .was well known, of course, that 
limestone, when heated in an open vessel, was transformed into quick- 
lime, and Black had shown that the explanation was that carbonic 
ncid had been expelled in the form of a gas. 

The experiments were begun in 1790, but deferred till 1798 after 
Hutton'a death. Hutton quite openly disapproved of experiments. His 



famous apophtliegm has often been quoted about those who ' judge 
of the great operations of the mineral kingdom by kindhng a fire and 
looking in the bottom of a crucible.' In deference to the feelings of 
his master and his father's friend, Sir James Hall, with admirable 
self-restraint, decided not to undertake experimental investigations in 
opposition toHutton's expressed opinion. With a few months' inter- 
ruption in 1800 they were continued till 1805. A preliminary account 
of the results was communicated to the Eoyal Society of Edinburgh 
on August 30, 1804, and the final papers submitted on June 3, 1805. 
Hall states that he made over 500 individual experiments and destroyed 
vast numbers of gun-barrels in this research. 

The method adopted was to use a muffle-furnace burning coal or 
coke and built of brick. No blast seems to have been employed. The 
chalk-powder was enclosed in a gun-barrel cut off near the touch-hole 
and welded into a firm mass of iron. The other end of the barrel could 
be kept cool by applying wet cloths, and as it was not in the furnace 
its temperature was always comparatively low. Various methods of 
plugging the barrel were adopted ; at first he used clay, sometimes with 
powdered flint. Subsequently a fusible metal which melted at a tem- 
perature below that of boiling water was almost always preferred. Borax 
glass with sand was used in some of the experiments, but it was liable 
to cracking when allowed to cool, and consequently was not always gas- 
tight. It was essential, of course, that in sealing up the gun-barrel, 
and in subsequently removing the plug, the temperatures should never 
be so high as to have any sensible effect on the powdered chalk or lime- 
stone. Hall tried vessels with screwed stoppers or lids at first, but 
never found them satisfactory. 

In the gun-barrel there was always a certain amount of air enclosed 
with the chalk. Very early in the experiments it was shown that if 
no air-space was provided the fusible metal burst the barrel. No means 
was found to measure the size of the air-space accurately, but approxi- 
mately it was equal to that of the powdered chalk used in the experi- 
ment. If the air-space was too large, or if there was an escape of gas, 
part of the chalk was converted into lime. 

As each experiment lasted several hours the temperature of the chalk 
was approximately equal to that of the part of the muffle in which it 
was placed. Pyrometry was as yet in its infancy. Wedgwood had 
invented pyrometric cones and Hall had heard of them, but apparently 
at first he was not in possession of a set. He made his own cones, 
as nearly similar as possible to those of Wedgwood, and subsequently 
obtaining a set of Wedgwood's cones he standardised his own by com- 
parison with them. His gun-barrels of Swedish and Eussian iron (' Old 
Sable ') were softened, but seldom gave way except when the internal 
pressures were of a high order. Some of the gun-barrels seem to have 
been used for many experiments without failure occurring. As Hall 
made his own pyrometric cones, and we have no details of their com- 
position and the method of preparation, it is not possible to do more than 
guess at the temperatures to which his powdered lime and chalk were 
exposed. There is no doubt that by constant practice and careful 
observatidn he Was able to fegulate the temperatuif'e within fairly wide 



Hall began his experiments as already stated in 1798. They were 
interrupted for about a year (March 1800 to March 1801), and on 
March 31, 1801, he had obtained a considerable measure of success. A 
charge of forty grains of powdered chalk was converted into a firm 
granular crystalhne mass of limestone. The loss on weighing wa.5 
approximately 10 per cent. Another charge of eighty grains was con- 
verted into marble (on March 3, 1801), with a loss of approximately 
5 per cent., and the crystalline mass showed distinct rhombohedral 

Though it cannot be said that his success was easily won he was by 
no means satisfied, and for another four years he continued his 
researches. Many different methods were tried in order to ascertain the 
most satisfactory and reliable; his ambition was to attain complete 
control of the process so that he could always be certain of the result. 
Porcelain tubes were tried, which he obtained from "Wedgwood. They 
were very liable, however, to allow escape of the gases through pores. 
Many different methods of obtaining gas-tight stoppers were experi- 
mented on, but he does not seem to have found anything really better 
than the fusible metal. A slight loss of weight in the chalk used seemed 
inevitable, and the amount of loss varied irregularly; after long trials 
he ultimately succeeded in reducing this to less than 1 per cent. 
Various kinds of carbonate of lime were used, including chalk, lime- 
stone, powdered spar, oyster shells, peii winkles, and each of these was 
crystallised in turn. Many experiments showed that a reaction might 
take place between the chalk powder and the glass of the tube in which 
it was contained. The result was a white deposit often crystalhne, and 
a certain amount of uncombined carbonic acid gas which escaped when 
the tube was opened. No doubt the white mineral was woUastonite. 
Hall proved that it was a silicate of lime which dissolved in acid and 
left a cloud of gelatinous silica. Thereafter he used platinum vessels 
instead of glass to contain the charge of carbonate of lime which he 
wanted to fuse. The effect of impurities in the material used was also 
investigated. Critics had urged that his limestone was not pure. Hall 
aptly replied that this was so much the better ; natural limestones were 
seldom pure, and his point was that limestone might be fused under 
heat and pressure. He obtained the purest precipitated carbonate of 
lime, and used also perfectly transparent crystalline spar; the results 
were, as we might expect, that the pure substances and the fairly coarse 
crystalline powder were more difficult to fuse than the very finely 
ground natural chalk. These results show that Hall had very complete 
control of his experimental processes, and that even small differences 
in fusibihty did not escape his observation. 

As natural limestones are always moist. Hall's attention was next 
directed to the influence of water on tlie crystallisation of his powders. 
Tliis added greatly to the difficulty of the experiments, but by wonderful 
skill he succeeded in using a few grains of water (apparently up to 
5 per cent, of the weight of the chalk). The result was to improve the 
crystallisation, for the reason, as Hall believed, that the pressure was 
increased. He noticed at the same time that hydrogen was produced, 
which took fire when the gun-barrel was discharged. Probably there 


was also some carbonic oxide. About this time he was using bars of 
Eussian iron into which a long cylindrical cavity had been bored. He 
then tried other volatile ingredients such as nitrate of ammonia, car- 
bonate of ammonia, and gunpowder. In January 1804 he was able to 
convert chalk into firm limestone at a temperature about 960° (melting- 
point of silver) in presence of small quantities of water with a loss of 
less than one-thousandth part of the chalk used. 

Finally he attempted to measure the pressure which was necessary 
to effect re-crystallisation under the conditions of his experiments. No 
pressure gauges were available at that date, and after many tiials he" 
employed a stopper faced with leather and forced against the mouth of 
his iron tube by means of weights acting either directly or through a 
lever. He ultimately succeeded in obtaining gas-tight junctions under 
pi^essures ranging from 52 up to 270 atmospheres, and concluded that 
52 atmospheres was the least pressure which could be satisfactory. 
This is equal to the pressure of a column of water 1,700 feet high or 
to a column of rock 700 feet high. A ' complete marble ' was formed 
at a pressure of 86 atmospheres and carbonate of lime ' absolutely 
fused ' under a pressure of 173 atmospheres. 

In reviewing these classic experiments after a lapse of 120 years 
we feel that there are many points on which we should have liked more 
detailed information. One essential, for example, is exact chemical 
analysis of all the materials employed. Even chalk is variable in com- 
position to a by no means negligible extent. Oyster shells and peri- 
winkle shells contain organic matter, which would account for the 
considerable loss in weight they always exhibited. The use of glass 
tubes was a defect in the early experiments, afterwards remedied by 
employing platinum vessels. Although in all the experiments the 
charge was weighed it seems clear that at first at any i-ate the materials 
were not carefully dried. In the experiments with water it was seldom, 
possible to provide absolutely against the escape of moisture when the 
fusible metal was introduced. Most of all we may regret the inadequate 
means of measuring the temperatures at which the experiments were 
conducted. The measurements of pressure were made by the simplest 
possible means, and it was only by great experimental skill and care 
that even approximate results could be obtained. 

Such criticisms, however, do not mar the magnificent success of 
Hall's experiments. For nearly a hundred years, in spite of the advance 
of physical and chemical science, no substantial improvement on his 
results was attained. His work was immediately recognised as trust- 
worthy and conclusive, and became a classic in the literature of experi- 
mental geology. Although not exactly the founder of this school of 
research, for Spallanzani and De Saussure had made fusion experiments 
on rocks before his time, he placed the subject in a prominent position 
among the departments of geological investigation, and did great service 
in supporting Hutton's theories by evidence of a new and unexpected 

As Hall himself has told us, there were critics who before the com- 
plete account of his researches in carbonate of lime was published had 
challenged the accuracy of some of his conclusions. The ground seems 



to have been that the materials he worked with were impure, and that 
the glass or porcelain vessels in which the powdered chalk was placed 
were visibly acted on during the experiment. Hall recognised the 
justice of these conclusions in so far that he made further experiments 
on tile purest precipitated carbonate of lime that he could obtain, and 
he used platinum vessels instead of glass. These changes admittedly 
made success more difficult to attain, but he considered that he ulti- 
mately was able to fuse the pure chemical in platinum vessels with only 
a negligible loss of weight by escape of carbonic acid. This seems to 
have silenced criticism, and with the gradual acceptance of most of 
Hutton's theories the controversy died down for a time. 

Many attempts were made to repeat Hall's experiments during the 
next eighty years with varying degrees of success. No one was able to 
secure perfectly gas-tight stoppage of porcelain or iron tubes as Hall 
did, though they had the record of his experiments to help them, a fact 
which shows how extremely skilful Hall was in experimental practice. 
But various authors found that chalk, powdered limestone, and even 
pure Iceland spar powder or precipitated carbonate of lime could be 
converted into a firm coherent mass by heating in an open furnace. It 
was also claimed that lithographic limestone became a crystalline rock 
resembling marble when heated before a blowpipe under certain con- 
ditions. Whether the mass was actually fused was not expressly proved 
by any of these expei-iments, and in time it came to be recognised that to 
make a limestone from powdered chalk it was not necessary that melt- 
ing should take place. On the other hand, it was contended that when 
Hall's experiments had resulted in the production of a vesicular or 
frothy mass which showed evidence that it had dripped or flowed, or 
that it had been spattered in drops about his apparatus, as he concluded 
from the appearance presented in certain of his experiments, there was 
some reason to believe that chemical action had taken place between 
the siUcates of his tubes of glass or porcelain, or the pipeclay stems 
in which the drops of water were contained, and the carbonate 
of lime, with the formation of readily fusible compounds. Hall, of 
course, was perfectly aware that his carbonate of lime combined with the 
ingredients of glass, porcelain, pipeclay, refractory cones, and sdica. 
He had noticed that in many experiments. What was necessary was a 
complete quantitative chemical analysis of some of his fused masses, to 
show that they were carbonate of lime and nothing else. This he never 
performed. He had his specimens of artificial marble cut and polished, 
thus testing their hardness, their crystalUne structure, and their trans- 
parency. He noted also how far the specimens were permanent in dry 
air, and found that very frequently they disintegrated owing to the 
presence of a considerable proportion of caustic lime. In many cases 
also he threw part of the mass into acid and observed complete solution 
with effervescence of carbonic acid gas. He trusted apparently to deter- 
muiuig whether there had been loss of weight, by escape of carbonic acid 
gas either during the experiment or subsequently on opening the gun- 
barrel, and argued that if the tube and its contents had the same weight 
after and before the experiment there could have been no chemical 


change. This argument is sound, but confirmatory evidence by quanti- 
tative analysis would have rendered the matter certain. 

The other question under dispute, viz. : whether actual fusion had 
taken place or only re-crystallisation in a pasty mass, was of a higher 
order of difficulty, and neither in Hall's time nor for a century later 
were means available definitely to settle it. 

During the whole of the nineteenth century this controversy lasted 
and no satisfactory conclusions were reached. Those who tiied to 
repeat Hall's experiments with porcelain tubes, gun-barrels, and iron 
cylinders met the same difficulties as he did, and were on the whole less 
successful in overcoming them. In most cases their gun-barrels burst 
or the method of stopping them failed. It became clear that a coherent 
mass could be obtained from powdered chalk or pure carbonate of lime 
at a red heat without great pressure, but no one obtained really con- 
vincing evidence of fusion. The problem remained practically as Hall 
had left it. 

The twentieth century, however, has witnessed a tremendous im- 
provement in our methods of tackling such questions as these, and the 
result has been that a new department of physico-chemical or experi- 
mental petrology has been opened up and already possesses a large and 
most interesting literature. It is really the old experimental geology 
of Sir James Hall, developed almost beyond recognifion. Essentially 
three factors have produced this result. One is the application of the 
electric furnace, so powerful and at the same time so compact and easily 
managed. By its means temperatures from 1000° to 1600° C. are 
easily obtained, and as many silicates and other minerals have fusion 
points between those limits their behaviour in the molten state and 
during crystallisation and cooling becomes accurately observable. The 
second factor is the invention of the electric pyrometer, by which tem- 
peratures up to the melting-point of platinum can be observed instan- 
taneously and continuously with an accuracy of one or two degrees 
centigrade. The third important element which has determined the 
recent progress of knowledge in this field is the theoretical mathematical 
researches of such men as Willard Gibbs, Eoozeboom, Sclireinemakers, 
and Smits, which are so full and clear that in many respects they are 
far in advance of the experimental results. To these we may add the 
continual improvement in microscopic methods of determining minerals, 
and the advance in knowledge of crystallography, optics, and analytical 

Among workers in this field it is generally agreed that only the purest 
chemicals or minerals should be used, as the presence even of traces 
of impurity may greatly modify the phenomena, and the interpretation 
of the results is so difficult that unnecessary comphcations must be 
studiously avoided. 

The behaviour of CaCOa under heat and pressure is really a question 
of two components, CaO and CD,, one of these being solid and very 
infusible, the other a gas at ordinary temperatures. We may simplify 
it By regarding the system for our present purposes as consisting of 
CaO and CaCO., with COj as a volatile constituent, arising from the 
dissociation of CaCOg at certain temperatures and pressures 

C— GEOLOGY. (35 

Of the components CaO, lime, is a solid fusible in the electric arc 
at a temperature about 2570° C. as measured by the optical pyrometer. 
There are reasons for believing that lime exists in two forms ; one of 
these is nearly isotropic and perhaps amorphous, and is obtained by the 
dissociation ol CaCOj at low temperatures; the other is cubic with good 
cleavage and generally occurs in rounded crystals ; at high temperatures 
this is probably the only form met with. 

CaGOj as a mineral and as a chemical compound has been so exten- 
sively studied that the literatui'e would fill a considerable library. At 
least eight forms of it have been described. Four of these, ktypeite, 
conchite, lublinite, and vaterite are rare and doubtful, and are by no 
means satisfactorily known. Eecently a form known as /nCaCOj has 
been described, but it is not believed to be of importance as a mineral. 
Two others are the well-known minerals calcite and aragonite. Calcite 
is the stable form under ordinary conditions. Aragonite is transformed 
into calcite slowly in presence of moisture and carbonic acid, and rapidly 
if heated to a temperature from 400° to 500° 0., but is practically stable 
in dry air at ordinary temperatures and pressures. There is some 
reason for believing that aragonite would be the stable form in tempera- 
tures 100° C. or so below the freezing-point. It has a higher specific 
gravity than calcite. In all experiments in which well-formed crystals 
of aragonite have been heated they changed to granular crystalline 
aggregates of calcite befoi'e dissociation or melting began. This 
transition so far as is known is irreversible. 

At temperatures between 450° and 970° C. calcite is the result of 
heating every known form of CaCOa, but above that point it is believed 
to change to another mineral, aCaOOg, not very different in crystallo- 
graphic and optical characters. The transition is reversible, and as 
the temperature falls calcite is again formed. The existence of this 
transition is indicated by tlie heating and cooling curves of calcite, which 
show a discharge of heat delaying the fall of temperature about 970° C. 
The change is very small. Optical studies have been made with the 
help of an electric fui-nace closed with transparent quartz-glass plates, 
but no measurements were obtained of the optical constants of the 
mineral, and of its crystallographic form nothing is known except that it 
is probably trigonal. The change in fact is very similar to that by which 
quartz passes intoa-quartz at a temperature of 575° 0., and it has been 
proposed to use calcite like quartz as a geological thermometer. 

Carbonate of lime when heated in a closed vessel melts at a tem- 
perature of 1289°. A pressure of not less than 110 atmospheres of 
carbonic acid gas is necessary to prevent dissociation at the melting tem- 
perature. It forms quite a liquid melt which will readily flow through 
cracks in the platinum vessel that contains it. On cooling the melt 
crystallisation takes place readily, and the resulting mass when cold is 
finely gi-anulor and completely crystalline. 

The dissociation pressure of CaCO, when heated has boon studied 
by several investigators and the results are somewhat discordant. 
The most reliable results obtained by actual experiment show that at 
687° dissociation has only begun, the pressure of 00^ being only oi>e 
millimetre of mercury. At 700° it is 25mm., at 800° about 160mm., 


and at 900° about 720mm., so that it increases I'apidly with rise of 
temperature. The dissociation pressure at the melting-point stated 
above was determined experimentally. It is quite probable that the 
high pressure of carbonic gas favours fluidity in the melt, and also 
accelerates crystallisation. 

If the pressure be less than the figures given above, a certain amount 
of dissociation will take place, and lime, CaO, will be present in the 
melt. We have then a binary system CaO and CaCOs and a binary 
eutectic point is to be expected. Boeke has investigated this system, 
and finds that the eutectic mixture has a melting temperature appi'oxi- 
mately 1218° C, and consists of 91 per cent. CaCOa and 9 per cent. 
CaO. Small additions of CaCOa raise the melting-point only slowly, 
but the presence of additional lime makes the melt far more in- 
fusible. Mixtures of CaO and CaCOj with moi'e than 9 per cent. 
CaO show on microscopic examination a finely crystalline first genera- 
tion of lime crystals followed by a second generation of CaCOj and 
CaO well crystallised. On the other hand, mixtures containing 
less CaO than the eutectic proportion show branching skeleton 
crystals of early CaCOj which have a development indicating trigonal 
symmetry, and a ground mass consisting of CaO and CaCOg. The large 
early skeleton crystals often continue to grow during the consolidation 
of the eutectic so as to give a coarsely crystalline appearance to the 
aggregate. Hence melts containing little lime often yield semi- 
transparent crystalline masses having the appearance of marble though 
not its minute structure. The refractive index of CaO obtained in this 
way is about 1.83, and it is optically isotropic, so that there is no 
difficulty in recognising it in the microscopic slides. 

So far as research has yet gone, no evidence has been found that 
there are intermediate compounds between CaO and CaCOj, and the 
two substances do not appear to form solid solutions to a perceptible 

To indicate how far experimental methods have advanced since the 
days of Sir James Hall, a brief account of the apparatus used will not be 
without interest. The carbonate of lime was either true Iceland 
spar, which is quite as free from admixture as the best prepared 
carbonate, or specially purified precipitated CaCOj. It was heated in a 
platinum vessel, as in Hall's experiments. This vessel was placed in a 
small electric resistance furnace with walls of fireclay and magnesia 
and a platinum spiral. This furnace could attain a temperature of 
1600° in a few minutes, and maintain it perfectly steadily for days if 
required. The small furnace containing the platinum tube was now 
placed in a steel vessel less than six inches in diameter with thick walls. 
The lid of the container was fastened with bolts and nuts and a lead 
washer used to prevent escape of gas. By this arrangement the small 
internal furnace was alone heated ; the steel enclosing vessel could be 
kept cold if necessary by a water-cooling arrangement, and it was a 
fairly simple matter to obtain gas-tight connections, and to obviate any 
risk of bursting. The space between the steel vessel and the furnace 
was packed with purified asbestos, to prevent convection currents in the 
carbonic acid gas from affecting the temperature of the electiic furnace. 


Temperature was measured by a platinum-platinum-rhodium electric 
pyrometer of which the sensitive part was immersed in the GaCOa which 
was being experimented on. Carbonic acid gas was provided in an 
ordinary steel cylinder such as is used for trade purposes ; these can 
easily stand higher pressures (at ordinary temperatures) than those it 
was necessary to employ. The gas in these cylinders is at fifty 
atmospheres pressure, but by immersing the cyUnder in hot water the 
pressure could be raised sufficiently for the purposes of the experiment. 
All pressures were measured by an ordinary Bourdon gauge, such as is 
used for many purposes in the arts. Through the walls of the vessel 
the insulated wires of the electric furnace and pyrometer and the tube 
carrying carbonic acid gas were led by gas-tight junctions. The whole 
apparatus worked perfectly smoothly. It is a type of experimental 
plant which is already employed in many researches into the behaviour 
of substances at high temperatures under considerable gas pressures, 
and seems likely to play a large part in the progress of experimental 
geology in the near future. By slow stages it has reached its present 
development, and when we remember how many advantages we enjoy 
in experimental work to-day as compared with Sir James Hall, who 
was a real pioneer and had to invent all his apparatus and solve every 
difficulty for himself, we can appreciate more thoroughly the masterly 
ingenuity he displayed. 

As the outstanding uncertainty about Hall's experiments is the 
question whether his carbonate of lime was actually melted or not, we 
may pause to consider what evidence is accepted as sufficient on this 
point at the present day. In ordinary cases the proof of fusion would 
be that the mass became liquid, but as the charge is contained in a 
furnace inside a closed steel vessel it is impossible to examine it till the 
apparatus cools down and is opened up. In many cases also it is 
possible to rapidly cool the melt, by dropping it into water or mercury, 
and if it solidifies as a pure glass the proof of fusion is complete. The 
carbonate of lime, however, could not be chilled either directly or 
indirectly, and, furthermore, it seems clear that this substance crystal- 
lises so readily that to obtain solidification as a vitreous mass might be 
quite impossible. Eeliance accordingly must be placed on a third ex- 
perimental method, that of reading the heating and cooling curves as 
recorded by the pyrometer. Change of state involves either the libera- 
tion or absorption of heat, and l.hese may be ascertained without any 
difficulty. Fortunately the behaviour O'f carbonate of lime in this respect 
is quite satisfactory ; it melts sharply at a definite temperature and 
crystallises very readily on cooling, so that the exact fusion point is not 
difficult to observe. Moreover, the microscopic appearance of the 
crystalline masses produced is entirely in accordance with the belief 
that complete fusion had taken place. 

We may now consider what light modern research has thrown on the 
vexed question whether Hall succeeded in molting carbonate of lime, 
and on the value and accuracy of his experimental work generally. 
It is clear that Hall in his best experiments was able to prevent escape 
of gas from his gun-barrels. The fact that there was no significant 
loss of weight in the materials he used seems to prove this satisfactorily. 


His latest experiments with arrangements for meosuring the pi'essure 
were conducted in a manner far less likely to obtain complete retention 
of the gas than his early expeiiments, but they show that he had 
obtained a useful first approximation to the pressures involved, and 
that somewhere between lUO and 150 atmospheres was the dissociation 
pressure of CaCOa on melting. So crude was his apparatus, to modern 
ideas, that it is wonderful he obtained any results at all. 

The necessity of providing an air space to prevent bursting of the gun- 
barrels by expansion of the fusible metal makes it certain that lime was 
always present in his melt, and as the air space was never accurately 
measured it is not certain to what extent dissociation took place. He 
was working therefore with mixtures of CaO and CaCOa, and the tem- 
perature of the fusion at which he aimed was the eutectic point at 
1218°C. In most cases he probably had excess of lime in his melt, 
but in his best experiments he was either very near the eutectic mixture 
or on the carbonate of lime branch of the curve. The effect of the water 
which he introduced may have been tO' lower the melting-point slightly, 
though there are no very exact experimental results at the present time 
to indicate the magnitude of this effect ; probably it was not very great. 
If then he was able to reach a temperature of 1218° 0. he may be said 
to have succeeded. Everything depends on the conditions in his 
furnace, and this was determined by the design of the furnace, the nature 
of the fuel, and the draught. Apparently he did not use a blast, and 
we are not informed as to the chimney. His fui-nace and muffle seem 
to belong to a pattern which has been long employed for refining silver 
and gold and for assaying copper. Now copper melts at 1082°C., and 
it is open to doubt whether a muffle-furnace of this type will give a tem- 
perature of 12l8°C. It seems just possible that the melting-point of 
carbonate of lime may have been actually reached under the best working 
conditions. The question will never be settled. Hall's pyrometers were 
the least satisfactory pai't of his apparatus, and all his critics are agreed 
that it is impossible to interpret the results that they gave. Without 
an exact knowledge of the materials, structure, and dimensions of his 
furnace, his fuel and his draught, we cannot reproduce the conditions 
under which he was working, and his descriptions of his methods are 
too incomplete to settle the point. 

The determination of the actual melting-point and vapour pressure 
of CaCOa is a question, however, which interests the physical chemist 
more than the geologist, and there is little evidence to show that the 
eutectic mixture of lime and carbonate of lime has a distinct importance 
as a component of rocks. Though Sir James Hall may not have clearly 
reahsed it, he had established a truth of far higher value to geologists. 
He had shown that at comparatively low temperatures such as the 
melting-point of silver, which is 9C0°C., a fine grained aggregate of 
calcite will readily recrystallise. If the mineral is an incoherent powder 
it will agglutinate into a firm coherent mass. At slightly higher tem- 
peratures it becomes plastic, so as to assume the shape of the vessel 
which contains it, and loses any angularities or irregularities of its 
surface. These temperatures are about the same as those exhibited by 
ordinary lavas, and must be quite common in the vicinity of under- 


ground intrusions. The whole of the phenomenn. of the contact, altera- 
tion of limestone, including the disappearance of original structures and 
organic remains, find a simple explanation through his experiments. 
Granted only a temperature about 1000°C. and sufficient pressure to 
retain tlic carbonic acid evolved (less than 1000 feet of average rock) 
any limestone will recrystallise completely. As a matter of fact, there 
is little evidence that the complete fusion of limestone is a common 
phenomenon, and a liquid limestone magma sending intrusive veins into 
the surrounding rocks has only seldom been postulated. The Huttonians 
thought that the calcareous amygdales of many of the basaltic lavas 
were fragments of limestone that had been involved in the igneous 
rock and completely fused, but this is no longer believed. Furthermore. 
Sir James Hall proved that under the same conditions limestone would 
react on silica, forming silicates, and would attack glass, porcelain, pipe- 
clay, and the material of his pyrometric cones ; thus he explained the 
origin of accessory minerals of many limestones, such as wollastonite, 
garnet, vesuvianite, diopside, and scapolite. Edinburgh geologists, for 
example, know well the altered limestone which occurs at the margin of 
the teschenite-picrite sill at Davidson's Mains railway station. There 
is no need to believe that it was ever completely melted, and the preser- 
vation of many traces of the original bedding makes it very improbable 
that complete fusion took place. 

Eecrystallisation and the growth of crystals in solido were observed 
also by many of those who endeavoured to repeat Sir James Hall's ex- 
periments during the nineteenth century, and have been fully confirmed 
by more recent researches. In fact this process is now regularly 
applied in the investigation of minerals that refuse to crystallise well 
from igneous melts or undergo transformation into other forms below 
a certain transition temperature. From the pure chemical components 
a glass is prepared as homogeneous and free from bubbles as possible, 
and this glass is then heated for many hours to a temperature below 
its melting-point, but within the field of stability of the crystalline form 
which it is desired to investigate. Crystals are thus produced which 
may be sufficiently large to have their optical characters, cleavage, 
hardness, and other properties satisfactorily determined. This is, of 
course, a case of devitrification, a process which Hall was familiar with, 
as he had studied it in the glass furnace at Leith which first suggested 
to him the advisability of making furnace experiments on rocks. He 
recognised it also in certain varieties of porcelain which he had employed 
in his experiments. But even when devitrification is sensibly complete 
and a finely crystalline aggregate replaces the original elass the process 
win so on. and the crystals become larger and larger if subjected for a 
considerable time to a temperature not far below the fusion point. 

It was characteristic of Hall that having set himself an object 
he pursued it with undeviating persistence. For four years he con- 
tinued his experiments on the crystallisation of the carbonate of lime 
by heat modified by compression. In that time he mnde nearly five 
lumdred experiments, and considering how elaborate they were and 
how all his appfiratus was rnade by himself or by ordinary mechanics 
\ve carl slSe that little titne was left for the Ordinary pursuits oi ft Country 


gentleman. A few subsidiary investigations, however, received atten- 
tion, one being the action of organic matter when heated under pressure, 
including the formation of coal and the origin of the bituminous materials 
found where igneous rocks are intrusive into coal seams or beds of shale 
rich in organic matter. The other was the action of carbonate of lime 
on ' silex. ' 

It is not quite clear what the ' silex ' was, as Hall employs the term 
for the material of which his Wedgwood porcelain tubes were made, 
while others used it to designate precipitated silica and various siliceous 
minerals. If it were porcelain, Hall was experimenting with the system 
CaO-Al203-Si02 on which the beautiful researches of Rankin and 
Wright executed at the Geophysical Laboratory in Washington were 
published in 1915. This work may be taken as an example of the 
highest type of investigations of the class which Hall initiated. About 
7000 individual tests were made. The complete ternary diagram con- 
tains fourteen separate stability fields, each for a definite chemical com- 
pound. Some of these are well-known minerals such as cristobalite, 
tridymite, sillimanite, anorthite, but many are new compounds, or 
minerals under forms which do not occur in rocks (such as pseudo-wol- 
lastonite). In addition to the three components there are nine binary 
compounds; three are ternary, but of these only two are stable. 
Between the stability fields are thirty boundary lines, which show under 
what conditions two minerals may exist simultaneously in the presence 
of liquid melt of a definite composition. The fields meet three together, 
in twenty-one quintuple points, eight of which are ternary eutectics, 
while thirteen are transition points. The lowest temperature at which 
liquids appear is 1170'^C. ± 5°; no possible mixture of these three 
substances is completely fused below that temperature. 

Many binary systems and quite a number of ternary systems have 
now been explored, some of them very fully. The seed which Hall 
planted is growing into a mighty tree. It is bearing fruit most precious 
to petrologists, mineralogists, and physical chemists. The conditions 
under which certain minerals can form in igneous melts are being 
gradually determined. But as yet the results appeal to the mineralo- 
gist and physical chemist rather than to the geologist. Quartz, 
tridymite, calcite, pyrites, corundum, and other common minerals of 
rocks have now had their stability conditions determined when they 
occur in dry fusions at atmospheric pressure in presence of a limited 
number of other substances. The accuracy of the determinations is 
marvellous, and has been confirmed in many cases by independent 
investigations along different lines. These researches are of even more 
value to the technologist than to the geologist. In the system above 
mentioned, for instance, there are only three or four minerals among 
the compounds determined in the melts. But the whole system and 
all its compounds have a bearing on practical pi'oblems. The three pure 
substances, for example, are well-known I'efractories : silica, alumina, 
and lime. Silica is the material of the quartz-glass industry; alumind 
forms alundum, an abrasive and a valuable refractory, while the uses 
of^ lime are too many to mention. Silica brick is principally quartz and 
tridymite with a little lime as a bond; ga,nister brick is mamly silica 

c— geoloCtY. 71 

and alumina; firoclay contains moro alumina with a small and variable 
amount of alkalis. Portland cement is a mixture of silica, alumina, and 
lime. All these manufactures are produced by pure dry fusion under 
atmospheric pressure, and exactly under the conditions and tempera- 
tures of the experiments on which tlie diagram is founded. The 
presence of small amounts of impurities in the natural minerals em- 
j)loyed introduces complications, but these may be neglected if only 
approximate results are aimed at. During the War the highly trained 
technical skill of the workers of the Geophysical Institute and their 
refined apparatus were entirely at the service of American industries, 
such as the manufacture of optical and chemical glass, and all the 
practical problems that arose were promptly and satisfactorily solved. 

The investigation of the system Ca-AljOa-SiOj which we have taken 
as an example of the best type of modern work in this field of research . 
is a great contribution to theoretical petrology. It has bearings on the 
thermal alteration of many rocks such as quartzites, flints, pure lime- 
stones, siliceous and argillaceous limestones, bauxites, fireclays, 
calcareous quartzites, all of which may be regarded as mixtures of 
silica, clay, and (carbonate of) lime together with their alteration pro- 
ducts. But for the geologist as a rule the matter is not quite so simple, 
and caution is necessary in drawing inferences. Three of the 
commonest alteration products in this group of rocks, for example, are 
biotite, garnet, and andalusite, and these minerals have been produced 
experimentally only under very exceptional conditions. 

There are differences between the conditions of the experiments and 
those that actually obtain in the making of rocks, and these are 
essentially of three kinds : 

(a) Experimental work is successful only when the conditions are 
exactly defined, and necessity compels us at present to restrict experi- 
mental work to simple systems of two or three components. The theory 
of these has been very fully worked out, and this is essential to the 
interpretation of the experimental results. Systems of four components 
have hardly yet been touched. If we take, for example, the four 
common oxides of rocks, CaO, AljO,,, MgO, and SiO,, the six possible 
binary systems are pretty well known, and the four possible ternary 
systems have also been thoroughly studied, but little progress has yet 
been made with the investigation of quaternary mixtures containing all 
four components. The mathematics of such a system is of the most 
complex description. Now the common rocks contain seven or more 
components, and their behaviour in igneous melts is a problem which is 
at present beyond solution. 

To simplify matters we might investigate such a system piecemeal, 
that is to say, we might take parts of it and treat them as independent 
svstems. For example, the three minerals anorthite, forsterite, quartz, 
which consist of these four components, have been investigated, and 
it was proved that this could not be regarded as a simple three-com- 
ponent system, as under certain conditions phenomena appeared which 
characterised a quaternary mixture. Along these lines, however, there 
is no doubt that gfeat progress can be made, and the results already 
obtained are so valuable that they hold out great promise for the future; 


(b) The only igneous rocks that consoUdate from high temperatures 
at atmospheric pressures with free escape of contained gases are the 
volcanic lavas. The plutonic and intrusive rocks consolidate under high 
pressures and with retention of their gases. Hall began his experiments 
with dry melts in open furnaces ; but he realised that under these 
conditions it was not possible to crystallise a marble. The historical 
development of research has followed similar lines, and investigations 
under pressure are now becoming more prominent. In the special field 
in which Hall worked we owe very important results to Professors 
Adams and Nicolson, of Montreal. They experimented on the effects 
of very high pressure (obtained by a hydraulic press) on chalk, lime- 
stone, and marble. Columns of limestone were embedded in alum or 
fusible metal enclosed in a steel tube, and submitted to enormous pres- 
sures. In some of the experiments the apparatus was heated to 300° or 
400°C., and that the investigation was on ' the effects of heat modified 
by compression ' as stated in the title of Hall's original paper of 1805. 
They succeeded in obtaining plastic deformation in the solid rock, with 
development of schistosity and cataclastic structures but without exten- 
sive recrystallisation. These experiments illustrate very perfectly the 
formation of such rocks as calc-schists, mylonites, fiaser-gabbros, and 

It is generally agreed by physicists that increase of pressure makes 
little difference on the melting-points of solids, and that a slight rise 
of temperature may have a much greater effect on the stability of a 
mineral system than a considerable rise of pressure. But this is to 
some extent altered whei'e volatile substances are concerned, for then 
pressure modifies the concentration, often to a high degree. In many 
rocks, and especially the acid plutonic rocks and mineral veins, the 
importance of volatile mineralisers is abundantly clear. In the crystal- 
line schists, on the other hand, we see the effects of pressure, not only 
in the structures of the rock masses, but also in the special minerals 
which characterise this group. The importance, accordingly, of pressure 
and volatile components cannot be ignored, and experimental petro- 
logists are now directing their attention especially to a study of their 
influence. The ground has been cleared by a masterly series of 
mathematical researches, principally by Schreinemakers and Smits, 
and experimental work along these lines is rapidly advancing. 

(c) The third agency which nature employs in the making of rocks 
but is apt to be neglected in the laboratory is time. It is not always 
easy to estimate its importance. A laboratory experiment under excep- 
tional circumstances has been carried on over several months ; most 
of them are finished in a few hours, but nature works with un- 
limited time. The action of solvents when they occur in very small 
quantities is favoured in this way and unstable phases tend to dis- 
appear. In the deposition of mineral veins this may be a factor of 
paramount importance, and it also cannot be ignored in all studies of 
metamoi'phism and metasomatism. 

We learn from Hall's papers that he was continually experimenting, 
and Re delighted to devise ineans to put geological ttieories to pl'actical 


In 1812, when he was President of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, 
he read a paper to the Society on ' The Contortions of the Strata.' He 
described the Silurian rocks of the Berwickshire coast as having been 
thrown into folds, a great part of which had been rcmovod by denuda- 
tion. Similar phenomena had been noted in many other places, and 
many explanations had been offered to account for the tilted, bent, 
upturned, and distorted rocks. Sonic geologists held they had been 
deposited in tliat position, others that they had been upheaved by earth- 
quakes, or let down by subsidences. Hall's explanation was very 
simple — the rocks had been affected by lateral pressure. With some 
pieces of cloth and a door ' which happened to be off its hinges, ' and a 
few stones to act as weights, he was able to reproduce the ' contortions 
of sti-ata ' experimentally with great perfection. The whole proceeding 
was so simple that one is reminded of Columbus and the egg. Yet if 
we are to judge by the discussions in contemporary literature, folding 
of strata had not yet been recognised, and this suggestion was revolu- 
tionary. It contains the germ of many theories of mountain building ; 
no one now doubts that lateral pressure is one of the most powerful 
agencies in the disturbance of the earth's crust and the production 
of many special types of rocks. In no district is this better exemplified 
than in the North- West Highlands of Scotland. 

As the source of lateral pressure Hall suggested that igneous in- 
trusions making their way upwards might force asunder the adjacent 
rocks. This would not now be generally accepted, but of course it was 
an explanation very likely to occur to a Huttonian. It seems to have 
been about forty years later that Elie de Beaumont and his school 
brought forward the hypothesis that secular contraction of the earth's 
crust might produce lateral compression of rock masses, and might be 
the cause of folding and of mountain building. The rise of modern 
theories of mountain structure probably dates from the investigations of 
H. D. Rogers on the Appalachians. 

Hall's final contribution to experimental geology appears in a paper 
which he read to the Royal Society of Edinburgh in April 1825, and was 
published in the tenth volume of the ' Transactions. ' The title is ' On 
the Consolidation of the Strata of the Earth.' Modern geology by that 
time had made great progress, and many of the controversies of Hall's 
early years had been settled. But Hall remained essentially a Huttonian 
in his belief in the efficacy of plutonic heat. He aimed at showing 
that submarine intrusions would consolidate loose overlying beds of 
sand into firm sandstone. For this purpose he took salt water, or 
concentrated brine, and heated it in crucibles or iron vessels containing 
a quantity of sand. He found that it was possible to make the bottoiri 
of such an iron vessel red hot, while the brine on top was so cold that 
the hand could be inserted into it. The sand was in some cases con- 
verted into firm coherent mass, no doubt by the action of alkalis at 
a red heat. It is difficult to perceive what such an experiment proves ; 
it may possibly have some bearing on the induration of sandstones by 
contact alteration in the vicinity of intrusive sills, and one of the special 
cases to whicli Hall refers as suggesting this experiment was the 
hardening of conglomerate by intrusive dykes. What actually 
1921 H 


happened was the prooliiction of a vitreous cement, consisting of silicates 
of alumina and the alkalis, sufficient to bind together the sand grains. 
We are reminded of the fused Torridon sandstone that is found at the 
margins of Tertiary dykes in the western isles of Scotland, but in these 
the alkali was furnished by the felspar originally present in the sand- 
stone. This paper probably contains the last expression of the pure 
Huttonian philosophy. Hall was now the sole survivor of the original 
group who established the Huttonian theories. Having begun as an 
innovator and a radical, regarded askance for his revolutionary tenden- 
cies, he was now a conservative holding fast to orthodox opinions, even 
when they were out of date. His passion for experiment lasted to 
the end, and he seems to have maintained his furnace in working 
order for over forty years. He died in 1832. Although he was 
not the greatest of the trio — Hutton, Playfair, and Hall — who 
founded modern geology, he was worthy to take his place with the 
others. Hutton 's was the original master-mind who, by sheer induc- 
tion and abstract reasoning, had read the secrets of the earth. Playfair 
was the man of balanced judgment who grasped the essentials and 
placed them in convincing clearness before a sceptical public. Hall 
had his special field of work in which he excelled all his contemporaries, 
and for us who are watching with profound interest the rapid progress 
of experimental investigation into geophysical and petrophysical 
problems, it is not uncongenial to pay a tribute to his memory. 


ADDKI'SS TO SKCTIOX I) (/,()()T,()(iV) HV 

iVuiossof EDWiN S. (lOODKlCjr, F.K.S., 


It was nearly 100 years ago that Cliarles Darwiii began his scientific 
studies in the University of Edinburgh. In this illustrious centre of 
intellectual activity he met various friends keenly interested in natural 
iiistory, and attended the meetings of scientific societies, and it was 
doubtless here that were sown many of the seeds destined to bear such 
glorious fruit many years later. No more fitting subject, I thiidc, 
could be found for an address than certain problems relating to his 
doctrine of evolution. That controversy perpetually rages round it is 
a healthy sign. For we must take care in science lest doctrine should 
pass into dogma, unquestioned and accepted merely on authority. So 
from time to time it is useful to re-examine in the light of new knowledge 
the very foundations on which our theories are laid. 

Perhaps the best way of treating these general subjects is by trying to 
answer some definite questions. For instance, we may ask: ' Why 
are some characters inherited and others not '? ' By characters we 
mean all those qualities and properties possessed by the organism, and 
by the enumeration of which we describe it : its weight, size, shape, 
colour, its structure, composition and activities. Next, what do we 
mean by ' inherited ' ? It is most important, if possible, clearly to 
define this term, since much of the controversy in writings on evolution 
is due to its use by various authors with a very different significance — 
sometimes as mere reappearance, at other times as actual transmission 
or transference from one generation to the next. Now, I propose to use 
the word inheritance merely to signify the reappearance in the offspring 
of a character possessed by the ancestor — a fact which may be observed 
and described, regardless of any theory as to its cause. Our question, 
then, is : ' "Why do some characters reappear in the offspring and others 

It is sometimes asserted that old-established characters are inherited, 
and that newly-begotten ones are not, or are less constant, in their 
reappearance. This statement will not bear critical examination. For, on 
the one hand, it has been conclusively shown by experimental breeding 
that the newest characters may be inherited as constantly as the most 
ancient, provided they are possessed by both parents.^ While, on the 
other hand, few characters in plants can be older than the green colour due 
to chlorophyll, yet it is sufficient to cut off the light from a germinating 
seed for the greenness to fail to appear. Again, ever since Devonian 

1 We purposely set aside complications due to hybridisation and Mendelian 
segregation, wl^ich (}o not directly bpar pn thp qnestions at issue. 

?f 2 


times vertebrates have inherited paired eyes; yet, as Professor Stockard 
has shown, if a Httle magnesium chloride is added to the sea-water in 
which the eggs of the fish Funduhis are developing, they will give rise to 
embryos with one median cyclopcaii eye! Nor is the suggestion any 
Jiappier that tlie, so to sfjeak, more deep-seated and fundamental 
characters are moi'e constantly inherited than the trivial or superficial. 
A glance at organisms around us, or the slightest experimental trial, 
soon convinces us that the apparently least-important character may 
reappear as constantly as the most fundamental. But while an organ- 
ism may live without some trivial character, it can rarely do so when 
a fundamental character is absent, hence such incomplete individuals 
are seldom met in Nature. 

Yet undoubtedly some characters reappear without fail and others 
do not. If it is neither age nor importance, what is it that determines 
their inheritance? The answer is that for a character to reappear in 
the offspring it is essential that the germinal factors and the environ- 
mental conditions which co-operated in its formation in the ancestor 
should both be present. Inheritance depends on this condition being 
fulfilled. For all characters are of the nature of responses to environ- 
ment;^ they are the products or results of the interaction between the 
factors of inheritance (germinal factors) and the surrounding 
conditions or stimuli. This power of response or reaction is no 
mysterious property of organisms — it is the effect produced, the dis- 
turbance brought about by the application of a stimulus. All the 
special properties and activities of living organisms ultimately depend 
on their metabolism, of which growth and repi'oduction are the chief 
manifestations. The course of metabolism, and, consequently, the 
development in the individual of a character, is moulded or conditioned 
by the environmental stimuli under which it takes place. On the 
other hand, the living substance, protoplasm, which is undergoing 
metabolism is the material basis of the organism. It has a specific 
composition and structure peculiar to the particular kind of organism 
concerned, and this is handed on to the offspring in the germ-cells from 
which starts the new generation. The inheritance of a character is due. 
then, not only to the actual transmission or transference of this specific 
' germ-plasm ' containing the same factors of inheritance (germinal 
factors) as those from which the parent developed, but also to this 
factorial complex developing under the same conditions (environmental 
stimuli), as those under which the parent developed. Any alteration 
either in the effective environmental stimuli or the germinal factors 
will produce a new result, will give rise to a new character, will cause 
the old character to appear no longer. 

Now what is actually transmitted from one generation to the next 
is the complex of germinal factors. Hence we should carefully dis- 
tinguish between transmission and inheritance. Much of the endless 

2 In a letter to Nature Sir Eay Lankester long ago drew attention to the 
importance of this consideration when discussing inheritance. He also pointed 
out that Lamarck's first law, that a new stimulus alters the characters of an 
organism, contradicts his second law, that the effects of previous stimuli are 
fixed by inheritance. [Nature, vol, li, 1894,) 

D.— ZOOLOGY. 77 

confusion and interminable controversies about tlie inheritance of so- 
called ' acquired characters ' is due to tlie neglect of this important 
distinction. For it is quite clear that whereas factors may be trans- 
mitted, characters as such never are. 'i'he characters of the adult, 
being responses, are not present as such in the fertilised ovum from 
which it develops, they are produced anew at every generation.^ No 
distinction in kind or value can he drawn between characters. 

If some are inherited regularly and others are not, the distinction 
lies not in the nature or mode of production of the characters them- 
selves, but in the constancy of the factors and conditions which give 
rise to them. Thus, although there is only one kind of character, there 
are two kinds of variation. 

Much of the confusion in evolutionary literatui'e is, I think, due 
to the use of the word variation in a loose manner. Sometimes it is 
taken to mean the degree of divergence between two individuals ; some- 
times the character itself in which they differ, such as a colour or spot 
on a butterfly's wing, at other times a variety or race differing from 
the normal form of the species. If clearness of thought and expression 
is to be attained, the word variation should mean the extent or degree 
of difference between two individuals or between an individual and the 
average of the species, the divergence of the new form from the old; 
not a new character or assemblage of characters, but a difference which 
can be measured or at least estimated. "We shall then find that a 
variation is of one of two kinds (which may, of course, be combined) : 
the first kind is due to some change in the complex of effective 
environmental stimuU, the second to some change in the complex of 
germinal factors. 

The second kind, to which the name mutation has been apphed, will, 
under constant conditions, be inherited since the new complex of 
factors will be transmitted to subsequent generations. The first kind 
of variation, which has been called a modification, will also be inherited, 
provided, of course, the change of stimulus persists. In either case, 
new characters will result. But here, again, we must be careful not to 
apply the terms mutation and modification to the chai'acters themselves, 
as is so often done ;* for we then reintroduce the confusion already 
exposed in the popular but misleading distinction between ' acquired ' 
and ' non-acquired ' characters. The characters due to mutation or 
modification are, of course, indistinguishable by mere inspection, and 
can only be separated by experiment. A mutation once established 
should give rise, under uniform conditions, to a new heritable character, 
and may be detected by crossing with normal members of the species. 

•1 In other words, all characters are ' acquired during the lifetime of the 
individual,' and ' inherited ' in the sense here defined has just the same 
meaning. Much the same view was advocated by Professor A. Sedgwick in his 
address to this Section at Dover in 1899, and it has also been developed by 
Dr. Archdall Reid and others. 

4 The name ' mutation ' might be given to the alteration in the factors 
instead of the variation due to it. The latter might then be termed a muta- 
tional variation and would be opposed to a modificational variation At present 
the term ' mutation ' is applied to three different things : the factorial change, 
the variation or difference, and the new product response or character. 


So far observations and tests have shown that new characters due to 
modification only reappear so long as the new stimulus persists. The 
difference lies not in the value or permanence of the new character, but 
in the causes which give rise to it.^ 

It is little more than a platitude to state that, for the production of 
an organism or of any of its characters, both germinal factors and 
environmental stimuli are necessary, and that if evolution is to take 
place there must be change in one or both. Yet the changes in the 
factors may be held to be the more important. In an environment 
which on the whole alters but little, evolution progresses by the cumu- 
lation along diverging lines of adaptation of new characters due to 
mutation. Thus natural selection indirectly preserves those factorial 
complexes which respond in a favourable manner. In other words, 
an organism, to survive in the struggle for existence, must present that 
assemblage of factors of inheritance which, under the existing envix'on- 
mental conditions, will give rise to advantageous characters. 

In answer to a further question, let us now try to explain what we 
mean when we contrast the organism with its environment. In its 
simplest and most abstract form a living organism may be likened to 
a vortex. That mixture of highly complex proteins we call protoplasm, 
the physical basis of life, is perpetually undergoing transformations of 
matter and energy, so long as life persists. Towards the centre of the 
vortex the highest compounds are continually being built up and con- 
tinually being broken down ; new material (food, water, oxygen) and 
energy are brought in at the periphery, and old material and energy 
(work and heat) thrown out. The principle of the conservation of 
energy and matter holds good in organised living processes as it does 
in the inorganic world outside. This is the process we call metabolism, 
and it is at the base of all the manifestations of life. From the point 
of view of biological science life is founded on a complex and continuous 
physico-chemical process of endless duration so long as conditions are 
favourable; just as a fire will continue to burn so long as fuel is at 
hand. No one step, no single substance, can be said to be living : the 
whole chain of substances and reactions, every link of which is essential, 
constitutes the life-process. A stream of non-living matter with stored- 
up energy is built up into the living vortex, and again passes out as 
dead matter, having yielded up the energy necessary for the performance 
of the various activities of the organism. If more is taken in than is 
given out it will grow and sub-divide. The complexity of the organism 
may increase by the formation of subsidiary, more or less interdepen- 
dent, vortices within it. The perpetual growth and transmission of 
factors of inheritance, the continuity of the germ-plasm, is but another 
aspect of the continuity of the metabolic process forming the basis of 
the continuity of life in evolution. 

* VVe miglit peiliaps distiiiguisli tlie two cases l)y calling them constant 
and inconstant characters, or ' natural ' and ' acquired,' as is commonly done 
when describing immunity. It should be meant thereby that one is acquired 
usually (under normal conditions), the other occasionally (when infection 
occurs). Error creeps in when the term ' acquired ' is opposed to ' non- 
acquired ' or to ' inherited.' 



Bui all t;nvii'oiimeiitaI stimuli are not external to llie organism. 
Just as the various steps in tlie metabolic process are dependent on 
those which preceded them, so when an organism becomes differentiated 
into parts, when the main process becomes sub-divided into subsidiary 
ones, these react on each other. What is internal to the whole becomes 
external to the part. An external stinmlus may set up an internal 
metabolic change, giving rise to a response whose extent and nature 
depend on the structure of the mechanism and its state when stimulated, 
that is to say, on the effect of previous responses. Such a response may 
act as an internal stimulus giving rise to a further response, which may 
modify the first, and so on. Parts thus become marvellously fitted to 
set going, inhibit, or regulate each other's action; and thus arises that 
power of individual adaptation, or self -regulation, so characteristic of 
living organisms. The processes of temperature regulation, of respira- 
tion, of excretion are examples of such delicate self -regulating 
mechanisms in ourselves. But one of the great advantages thereby 
gained by organisms is that they can r-egulate their own growth and 
ensure their own ' right ' development. Whereas the simplest plants 
and animals are to a great extent, so to speak, at the mercy of their 
external environment, except in so far as they can move from unfavour- 
able to more favourable surroundings ; whereas their characters appear 
in response to external stimuli which may or may not be present, and 
over which they have little or no control — the higher organisms (more 
especially the higher animals), as it were, gradually substitute internal 
for external stimuli. Food material is providetl in the ovum, and the 
size, structure and time of appearance of various characters are regu- 
lated to a great extent by use and by the secretions of various endocrinal 
glands, the action of which has been so successfully studied, among 
others^ by Sir Sharpey Schafer in this University. Thus, as is well 
shown in man, the higher animals acquire considerable independence, 
and are little affected in their development by minor changes of 
environment. Inheritance is thus made secure by ensuring that the 
necessary conditions are always present. 

We may seem to have wandered far from our original question ; but 
the answer now appears to be that only those characters can be regu- 
larly inherited which depend for their appearance on conditions always 
fulfilled in the normal environment (external or internal); and those 
characters will not be regularly inherited which depend on stimuli that 
may or may not be present. Thus, while the offspring of a dark- 
skinned race will be dark in whatever climate they are born, those of a 
fair-skinned race will be born fair, but may be darkened by sun-burn, 
if they sjjend their holiday in tlie open. 

Now it will be said, and not without some truth, that all this is 
mere couunonplace admitted l)y all ; but, if so, it is, I think, often 
ignored or misundeislood in discussions on heredity, more especially 
in senu-popular writings, and sometimes even in scientific works 
However, I quite willingly admit that the real problems Darwin left to 
1)6 solved by the evolutionist are the nature of the germinal factors 
themselves, and more especially the origin of the differences between 
them, the origin of those changes which give rise to mutations. 


That these factors" must at least be self -propagating substances, 
subsidiary vortices in the main stream of metabolising living proto- 
plasm, is certain, since they grow and multiply repeatedly, to be 
distributed to new generations of germ -cells. That they may be 
relatively constant and remain unaltered for generations seems also 
certain, since organisms or their parts can continue almost unchanged 
for untold ages. That they can act independently, can be separately 
distributed into different germ-cells, and can be re-combined seems 
likewise to have been proved by the brilliant work of Mendel and his 
followers. So independent and constant do they appear to be that 
niodex'n students of heredity tend to treat them as so many beads in a 
row, as separate particles themselves endowed with all the properties 
of independent living organisms, the very properties we wish to explain 
While not prepared to accept these views without qualification, it seems 
to me that it can scarcely be doubted that some such units must exist 
whether in the form of discrete particles or merely of separable sub- 
stances. But not until these factors have been brought into relation 
with the general metabolism of the organism, as links in the chain of 
processes, will the problem of inheritance approach solution. If the 
theory is to be completed it must attempt to explain how they come to 
differ, how their orderly behaviour is regulated, in what functional 
relation they stand to each other, what is the metabolic bond between 
them. That harmonious processes may be carried out by discreta 
elements in co-operation is shown in cases of symbiotic combinations 
such as the lichens, or the green algae in such animals as Hydra and 
Convoluta. Here an originally independent organism takes its place 
and does its woi'k regularly in another organism, and may even be 
Ijropagated and transmitted from one generation to the next in the 
germ-cell ! Most instructive, also, are the recently studied cases of 
bacteria and yeasts living regularly in certain special tissues of various 
species of insects, where they exert a definite influence on the 
metabolism (see the works of Pierantoni, Buchner, Glaser). These no 
doubt are mere analogies, but they serve. 

In all probability, then, factors of inheritance exist, and the funda- 
mental problem of Biology is how are the factors of an organism 
changed, or how does it acquire new factors ? In spite of its vast im- 
portance, it must be confessed that little advance has been made 
towards the solution of this problem since the time of Darwin, who 
considered that variation must ultimately be due to the action of the 
environment. This conclusion is inevitable, since any closed system 
will reach a state of equilibrium and continue unchanged, unless affected 
from without. To say that mutations are due to the mixture or re- 
sliuftling of pre-existing factors is merely to push the problem a step 

•i Herbert Spencer's ' physiological units,' Darwin's ' pangens,' Weismann's 
' determinants,' are all terms denoting factors, but with somewhat different 
meanings. !More recently Professor W. Johannsen {J'J/emcnie dcr excdten 
Erblichheitshhre, 1909) has proposed the term 'gene' for a factor, 'genotype' 
for the whole assemblage of factors transmitted by a species, and ' phenotype ' 
for the characters developed from them. This clear system of nomenclature, 
although much used in America, has not been generally adopted in this country. 



farther buck, ior we must still account for tlieir origin and diversity. 
The same objection applies to the suggestion that the complex of 
factors alters by the loss of certain of them. To account for the 
progressive change in the course of evolution of the factors of in- 
heritance and for the building up of the complex it must be supposed 
that from time to time new factors have been added ; it must further 
be supposed that new substances have entered into the cycle of 
metabolism, and have been permanently incorporated as self- 
propagating ingredients entering mto lasting relation with pre-existing 
factors. "We are well aware that living protoplasm contains molecules 
of large size and extraordinary complexity, and that it may be urged 
that by their combination in different ways, or by the mere regrouping 
of the atoms within them, an almost infinite number of changes may 
result, more than sufficient to account for the mutations which appear 
But this does not account for the building up of the original complex. 
If it must be admitted that such a building process once occurred, what 
right have we to suppose that it ceased at a certain period? "We are 
driven, then, to the conclusion that in the course of evolution new 
material has been swept from the banks into the stream of germ-plasm. 
If one may be allowed to speculate still further, may it not be 
supposed that factors differ in their stability? — that whereas the more 
stable are merely bent, so to speak, in this or that direction by the 
environment, and are capable of returning to their original condition, 
as a gyroscope may return to its former position when pressure is 
removed, other less stable factors may be permanently distorted, may 
have their metabolism permanently altered, may take up new substance 
from the vortex, without at the same time upsetting the system of 
delicate adjustments whereby the organism keeps alive? In some such 
way we imagine factorial changes to be brought about and mutations 
to result. 

Let it not be thought for a moment that this admission that factors 
are alterable opens the door to a Lamarckian interpretation of evolution I 
According to the Lamarckian doctrine, at all events in its modern form, 
a character would be inherited after the removal of the stimulus which 
called it forth in the parent. Now of course, a response once made, 
a character once formed, may persist for longer or shorter time accord- 
ing as it is stable or not ; but that it should continue to be produced 
when the conditions necessary for its production are no longer present 
is unthinkable. It may, however, be said that this is to misrepresent 
tlie doctrine, and that what is really meant is that the response may 
so react on and alter the factor as to render it capable of producing the 
new character under the old conditions. But is this interpretation any 
more credible than the first ? 

Let us return to the possible alteration of factors by the environ- 
inent. TTnfortunately thei'e is little evidence as yet on this point. In 
the course of breeding experiments tlie occurrence of mutations has 
repeatedly been obseived, lint what led to their appearance seems never 
to have been so clearly established as to satisfy exacting critics. Quite 
lately, however, Professor M. F. Guyer, of "Wisconsin, has brought 
forward a most interesting case of the apparent alteration at will of a 


factor or set of factors under definite well-controlled conditions.' You 
will remember that if a tissue substance, blood-serum for instance, of 
one animal be injected into the circulation of another, this second 
individual will tend to react by producing an anti-body in its blood to 
antagonise or neutralise the effect of the foreign serum. Now 
Professor Guyer's ingenious experiments and results may be briefly 
summarised as follows. By repeatedly injecting a fowl with the sub- 
stance of the lens of the eye of a rabbit he obtained anti-lens serum. 
On injecting this ' sensitised ' serum into- a> pregnant female rabbit it 
was found that, while the mother's eyes remained apparently 
unaffected, some of her offspring developed defective lenses. The 
defects varied from a slight abnormality to almost complete disappear- 
ance. No defects appeared in untreated controls, no defects appeared 
with non-sensitised sera. On breeding the defective offspring for 
many generations these defects were found to be inherited, even to 
tend to increase and to appear more often. When a defective rabbit 
is crossed with a normal one the defect seems to behave as a Mendelian 
recessive character, the first generation having normal eyes and the 
defect reappearing in the second. Further, Professor Guyer claims to 
have shown that the defect may be inherited through the male as well 
as the female parent, and is not due to tlie direct transmission of anti- 
lens from mother to embryo in utero. 

If these remarkable results are verified, it is clear that an environ- 
mental stimulus, the anti-lens substance, will have been proved to 
affect not only the development of the lens in the embryo, but also the 
corresponding factors in the germ-cells of that embiyo; and that it 
causes, by originating some destructive process, a lasting transmissible 
effect giving rise to a heritable mutation. 

Professor Guyer, however, goes farther, and argues that, since -i 
rabbit can also produce anti-lens when injected with lens substance, and 
since individual animals can even produce anti-bodies when treated 
with their own tissues, therefore the products of the tissues of an 
individual may permanently affect the factors carried by its own germ- 
cells. Moreover he asks, pointing to the well-known stimulative 
action of internal secretions (hormones and the like), if destructive 
bodies can be produced, why not constructive bodies also? And so ho 
would have us adopt a sort of modern version of Darwin's theory of 
Pangenesis, and a Lamarckian view of evolutionary change. 

But surely there is a wide difference between such a poisonous Or 
destructive action as he describes and any constructive process. The 
latter must entail, as I tried to show above, the drawing of new sub- 
stances into the metabolic vortex. Internal secretions are themselves 
but characters, jn'oducts (perhaps of the natui'e of ferments) behaving 
as environmental conditions, not as self-projiagating factors, moulding 
the responses, but not permanently altering the fundamental structure 
and composition of the factors of iidieriUince. 

Moreover, the early fossil vertebrates had, in fact, lenses neither 
larger nor smaller on the average than those of the present day. If 

' American Naturalist, vol. Iv. 1921 ; Jour, of E.rjier. Zoology, vol. xxxi. 1920. 

D.— ZOOLOGY. 83 

destructive anti-lens had been continually produced and had acted, its 
effect would have been cumulative. A constructive substance must, 
then, have also been continually produced (o counteract it. Such a 
theory might perhaps be defended ; but would it bring us any nearer to 
the solution of the problem ? 

The real weakness of the theory is that it does not escape from 
the fundamental objections we have already put forward as fatal to 
Lamarckism. If an effect has been produced, either the supjiosed con- 
structive substance was present from the first, as an ordinary internal 
i-nvironmental condition necessary for the normal development of the 
character, or it must have been introduced from without by the appli- 
cation of a new stimulus. The same objection does not apply to the 
destructive effect. No one doubts that if a factor could be destroyed by 
a hot needle or picked 'out with fine forceps the effects of the operation 
would persist throughout subsequent generations. 

Nevertheless, these results are of the greatest interest and impor- 
tance, and, if corroborated, will mark an epoch in the study of hei-edity, 
being apparently the first successful attempt to deal experimentally 
with a particular factor or set of factors in the germ-plasm. 

There remains another question we must try to answer before we 
close, namely, ' "What share has the mind taken in evolution? ' From 
vhe point of view of the biologist, describing and generalising on v/hat 
he can observe, evolution may be represented as a series of metabolic 
changes in living matter moulded by the environment. It will natu- 
rally be objected that such a description of life and its manifestations as 
a physico-chemical mechanism takes no account of mind. Surely, it 
will be said, mind must have affected the course of evolution, and may 
indeed be considered as the most important factor in the process. 
Now, without in the least wishing to deny the importance of the mind, 
I would maintain that there is no justification for the belief that it 
has acted or could act as something guiding or interfering with the 
course of metabolism. This is not the place to enter into a philo- 
sophical discussion on the ultimate nature of our experience and its 
contents, nor would I be competent to do so; nevertheless, a scientific 
explanation of evolution cannot ignore the problem of mind if it is to 
satisfy the average man. 

Let me put the matter as briefly as possible at the risk of seeming 
somewhat dogmatic. It will be admitted that all the manifestations of 
living organisms depend, as mentioned above, on series of physico- 
chemical changes continuing without break, each step determining that 
which follows ; also that the so-called general laws of physics and of 
chemistry hold good in living processes. Since, so far as living pro- 
cesses are known and undeistood, they can be fully explained in 
accordance with these laws, there is no need and no justification lor 
calling in the help of any special vital force or other directive influence 
to account for them. Such crude vitalistic tlieories are now discredited, 
but tend to return in a more subtle form as the doctrine of the inter 
action of body and mind, of the influence of the mind on the activities 
of the body. But, try as we may, we caiuiot conceive how a physical 
process can be interrupted or supplemented by non-physical agencies. 


Rather do we believe that to the continuous physico-chemical series 
of events there corresponds a continuous series of mental events 
inevitably connected with it ; that the two series ai'e but partial views 
or abstractions, two aspects of some more complete whole, the one 
seen from without, the other from within, the one observed, the other 
felt. One is capable of being described in scientific language as a 
consistent series of events in an outside world, the other is ascertained 
by introspection, and is describable as a series of mental events in 
psychical terms. There is no possibility of the one affecting or con- 
trolling the other, since they are not independent of each other. 
Indissolubly connected, any change in the one is necessarily accom- 
panied by a corresponding change in the other. The mind is not a 
product of metabolism as materialism would imply, still less an 
epiphenomenon or meaningless by-product as some have held. I am 
w^ell aware that the view just put forward is rejected by many philoso- 
phers, nevertheless it seems to me to be the best and indeed the only 
working hypothesis the biologist can use in the present state of 
knowledge. The student of biology, however, is not concerned with 
the building up of systems of philosophy, though he should realise that 
the mental series of events lies outside the sphere of natural science. 

The question, then, which is the more important in evolution, the 
mental or the physical series, has no meaning, since one cannot happen 
without the other. The two have evolved together pari passu. We 
know of no mind apart from bo<iy, and have no right to assume that 
metabolic processes can occur without corresponding mental processes, 
however simple they may be. 

Simple response to stimulus is the basis of all behaviour. Responses 
may be linked together in chains, each acting as a stimulus to start the 
next ; they can be modified by other simultaneous responses, or by the 
effects left behind by previous responses, and so may be built up into 
the most complicated behaviour. But, owing to our very incomplete 
knowledge of the physico-chemical events concerned, we constantly, 
when describing the behaviour of living organisms, pass, so to speak, 
from the physical to the mental series, filling up the gaps in our know- 
ledge of the one from the other. We thus complete our description 
of behaviour in terms of mental processes we know only in ourselves 
(such as feeling, emotion, will) but infer from external evidence to take 
place in other animals. 

In describing a simple reflex action, for instance, the physico- 
chemical chain of events may appear to be so completely known that 
the corresponding mental events are usually not mentioned at all, their 
existence may even be denied. On the contrary, when describing com- 
plex behaviour when impulses from external or internal stimuli modify 
each other before the final result is translated into action, it is the 
intervening physico-chemical processes which are unknown and perhaps 
ignored, and the action is said to be voluntary or prompted by emotion 
or the will. 

The point I wish to make, however, is that the actions and 
behaviour of organisms are responses, are characters in the sense 
described in the earlier part of this address. They are inherited, they 



vary, they are selected, and evolve like other characters. The distinc- 
tion so often drawn by psychologists between instinctive behaviour said 
to be inherited and intelligent behaviour said to be acquired is as 
niislcading and as little justified in tliis case as in that of structural 
characters. 'J'inie will not allow me to develop this point of view, but 
I will only mention tliaii instinctive behaviour is carried out by a 
mechanism developed under the influence of stinmli, chie'lly internal, 
which are constantly present in the normal envn-onmental conditions, 
while intelligent behaviour depends on responses called forth by stimuli 
which may or may not be present. Hence, the former is, but the latter 
may or may not be inherited. As in other cases, the distinction lies in 
the factors and conditions which produce the results. Instinctive and 
intelligent behaviour are usually, perhaps always, combined, and one 
is not more primitive or lower than the other. 

It would be a mistake to think that these problems concerning 
factors and environment, heredity and evolution, are merely matters of 
academic interest. Knowledge is power, and in the long run it is 
always the most abstruse researches that yield the most practical 
results. Already, in the effort to keep up and increase our supply of 
food, in the constant fight against disease, in education, and in the pro- 
gress of civihsation generally, we are beginning to appreciate the value 
of knowledge pursued for its own sake. • Could we acquire the power to 
control and alter at will the factors of inheritance in domesticated 
animals and plants, and even in man himself, such vast results might 
be achieved that the past triumphs of the science would fade into 

Zoology is not merely a descriptive and observational science, it is 
also an experimental science. For its proper study and the practical 
traming of students and teachers alike, well-equipped modern labora- 
tories are necessary. Moreover, if there is to be a useful and progressive 
school contributing to the advance of the science, ample means must be 
given for i-esearch in all its branches. Life doubtless arose in the sea, 
and in the attempt to solve most of the great problems of biology the 
greatest advances have generally been made by the study of the lower 
marine organisms. It would be a thousand pities, therefore, if Edm- 
bm-gh did not avail itself of its fortunate position to offer to the student 
opportunities for the practical study of marine zoology. 

In his autobiography, Darwin complains of the lack of facilities for 
practical work— the same need is felt at the present time. He would 
doubtless have been gratified to see the provision made since his day 
and the excellent use to which it has been put ; but what seems adequate 
to one generation becomes insufficient for the next. We earnestly hope 
that any appeal that may be made for funds to improve this Department 
of Zoology mav meet with the generous response it certainly deserves. 



D. G. HOGAETH, M.A., D.Litt., G.M.G., 


The term which I have taken for the title of my address has been 
111 use for some years as a general designation of lendings or borrowings 
of geographical results, whether by a geographer who applies the 
material of his own science to another, or by a geologist or a 
meteorologist, or again an ethnologist or historian, who borrows of the 
geographer. Whether Geography makes the loan of her own motion 
or not, the interest in view, as it seems to me, is primarily that, not 
of Geography, but of another science or study. The open question 
whether that interest will be served better if the actual application be 
made by the geographer or by the other scientist or student does not 
concern us now. 

Such appHcations are of the highest interest and value as studies, 
and, still more, as means of education. As studies, not merely are 
they links between sciences, but they tend to become new subjects 
of research, and to develop with time into independent sciences. As 
means of education they are used more generally, and prove them- 
selves of higher potency than the pure sciences from which or to which, 
respectively, the loans are effected. But, in my view. Geography, 
thus applied, passes, in the process of application, into a foreign 
province and under another control. It is most proper, as well as 
most profitable, for a geographer to work in that foreign field; but, 
while he stays in it, hg is, in military parlance, seconded. 

Logical as this view may appear, and often as, in fact, it has been 
stated or implied by others (for example, by one at least of my pre- 
decessors in this chair. Sir Charles Close, who delivered his presidential 
address to the section at the Portsmouth Meeting in 1911), it does not 
square with some conceptions of Geography put forward by high 
authorities of recent years. These represent differently the status of 
some of the studies, into which, as I maintain. Geography enters as a 
subordinate and secondary element. In particular, there is a school, 
represented in this country and more strongly in America, which claims 
for Geography what, in my view, is an historical or ethnological or even 
psychological study, using geographical data towards the solution of 
problems in its own field ; and some even consider this not merely a 
function of true Geography, but its principal function now and for 
the future. Their ' New Geography ' is and is to be the study of 
' human response to land-forms.' This is an extreme American state- 
ment; but the same idea is instinct in such utterances, more sober 
and guarded, as that of a great geographer. Dr. H. E. Mill, to the 
effect that the ultimate problem of Geography is ' the demonstrative 
and quantitative proof of the control exercised by the Earth's prust qn 

E— OEOORArnY. 87 

llic iiiPiihil procossofinr ilsiiilinliilniils.' Dr. Millislon j)i-orountl ii man 
of science not to guard lnms(^lf, by that saving word ' ultimate,' from 
such retorts as Professor EUswortli Huntington, of Yale, has offered 
to the extreme American statement. If, tlie latter argued, Geography 
is actually the study of the Innnan response to land-forms, then, as a 
science ifi is in its infancy, or, rather, it has r(^tunie(l to a second 
childhood; for it has Jiardly hegun to colh'cli exact data to this 
particular end, or to treat them statistically, or to ap])ly to them the 
methods of isolation that exnct science demands. In this country 
geographers are less inclined to interpret ' New Geography ' on such 
revolutionary lines ; hut one suspects a tendency towards the 
American view in both their principles and their practice — in their 
choice of lines of inquiry or research and their choice of subjects for 
education. The concentration on Man, which characterises geographical 
teaching in the University of London, and the almost exclusive attention 
paid to Economic Geography in tke geographical curricula of some 
other British Universities make in that direction. In educational 
practice, this bias does good, rather than harm, if the geographer 
liears in mind that Geography proper has only one function to perform 
in regard to Man — namely, to investigate, account for, and state his 
distribution over terrestrial space — and that this function cannot be 
performed to any good purpose except npon a basis of Physical Geo- 
graphy — that is, on knowledge of the disposition and relation of the 
Earth's physical features, so far as ascertained to date. To deal with 
the effect of Man's distribution on his mental processes or political 
and economic action is to deal with him geographically indeed, but by 
applications of Geography to Psychology, to History, to Sociology, to 
Ethnology, to Economics, for the ends of these sciences; though the 
interests of Geography may be, and often are, well served in th ? process 
by reflection of light on its own problems of distribntion. If in instruc- 
tion, as distinct from research, the geographer, realising that, when 
he introduces these subjects to his pupils, he will be teaching them 
not Geography, but another science with the help of Geography, insists 
on their having been grounded previously or elsewhere in what he 
is to apply — namely, the facts of physical Distribution — all will be 
well. The application will be a sound step forward in education, more 
potent perhaps for training general intelhgence than the teaching of 
pure Geography at the earlier stage, becanse making a wider and more 
compelling appeal to imaginatiA^e interest and pointing the adolescent 
mind to a more complicated field of thought. But if Geography is 
applied to instruction in other sciences without the recipients having 
learned what it is in itself, then all will be wrong. The teacher will 
lalk a language not understood, and the value of what he is applying 
cannot be appreciated by the pupils. 

If I leave this argument there for the moment, it is with the intention 
of returning to it before I end to-day. It goes to the root, as it seems 
to me, of the unsatisfactory nature of much geographical instruction 
given at present in our islands. The actual policy of the English 
Board of Education seems to contemplate that Geography should be 
taught to secondary students only in connection with History. If 


this policy were realised in instructional practice by encouragement or 
compulsion of secondary students to undergo courses of Geography 
proper, with a view to promotion subsequently to classes in Historical 
Geography {i.e., if History be treated geographically by application of 
another science previously studied), it would be sound. But I gather 
from Sir Halford Mackinder's recent report that such is not the 
practice. Courses in Geography proper are not encouraged during the 
secondary period of education at all. Encouragement ceases with the 
primary period, at an age before which only the most elementary 
instruction in such a science can be assimilated — when, indeed, not much 
more can be expected of pupils than the memorising of those summary 
diagrammatic expressions of geographical results, which are maps. How 
these results have been arrived at, what sort of causes account for 
physical Distribution, how multifarious are its facts and features which 
maps cannot express even on the minutest scale — these things must 
bs instilled into minds more robust than those of children under fourteen ; 
and until some adequate idea of them has been imbibed it is little use 
to teach History geographically. So, at least, this matter seems to me. 

It will be patent enough by now that I am maintaining Geography 
proper to be the study of the spatial Distribution of all physical features 
on the surface of this Earth. My view is, of course, neither novel 
nor rare. Almost all who of late years have discussed the scope of 
Geography have agreed that Distribution is of its essence. Among 
the most recent exponents of that view have been two Directors of 
the Oxford School, Sir Halford Mackinder and Professor Herbertson. 
When, however, I add that the study of Disti'ibution, rightly under- 
stood, is the whole essential function of Geography, I part company 
from the theory of some of my predecessors and contemporaries, and 
the practice of more. But our divergence will be found to be not 
serious; for not only do I mean a great deal by the study of Distri- 
bution — quite enough for the function of any one science ! — but I claim 
for Geography to the exclusion of any other science all study of spatial 
Distribution on the Earth's surface. This study has been its well 
recognised function ever since a science of that name has come to be 
restricted to the features of the terrestrial surface — that is, ever since 
' Geography ' in the eighteenth century had to abandon to its child Geo- 
logy the study of what lies below that surface even as earlier it had 
abandoned the study of the firmament to an elder child. Astronomy. 
Though Geography has borne other children since, who have grown 
to independent scientific life, none of these has robbed her of that one 
immemorial function. On the contrary, they call upon her to exercise 
it still on their behalf. 

Let no one suppose that I mean by this study and this function 
mei-ely what Professor Herbertson so indignantly repudiated for an 
adequate content of his Science — Physiography plus descriptive Topo- 
graphy. Geography includes these things, of course, but she embraces 
also all investigation both of the actual Distribution of the Earth's super- 
ficial features and of the causes of the Distribution, the last a profound 
and intricate subject towards the solution of which she has to summon 
assistance from many other sciences and studies. She includes, further. 


in her field, for the accurate statement of actual Distribution, all the 
processes of Survey — a highly specialised function tO' the due perform- 
ance of which other sciences again lend indispensable aid; and, also, 
for the diagrammatic presentation of synthetised results for practical 
use, the equally highly speciaUsed processes of Cartography. That 
Beems to me an ample field, with more than sufficient variety of expert 
functions, for any one Science. And I have not taken into account 
either the part Geography has to play in aiding other sciences, as they 
aid her, by application of her data., or, again, certain investigations 
of terrestrial phenomena, at present incumbent upon her, because special 
sciences to deal with them have not yet been developed — or, at least, 
fully developed — although their ultimate gi'owth to independence can 
be foreseen or has already gone far. Such, for the moment, are 
Geodetic investigations, in this country at any rate. In Germany, I 
understand. Geodesy has attained already the status of a distinct 
specialism. Here the child has Hardly separate existence. But beyond 
a doubt it will part from its parent, even as Oceanography has parted. 
Indeed some day, in a future far too distant to be foreseen now, many, 
or most, of the investigations which now occupy the chief attention of 
geographical researchers may cease to be necessary. A time must come 
when the actual distribution of all phenomena on the Earth's surface 
will have been ascertained, and all the relief upon it and every super- 
ficial feature which Cartography can possibly express in its diagi-ammatic 
way will have been set out finally on the map. That moment, how- 
ever, will not be the end of Geography as a science, for there will still 
remain the investigation of the causes of Distribution, the scientific 
statement of its facts, and the application of these to other sciences. 
Let us not, however, worry about any ultimate restriction of the 
functions of our Science. The discovery and correlation of all 
the facts of geographical Distribution and their final presentation in 
diagrammatic form are not much more imminent than the exhaustion of 
the material of any other science ! 

In the meantime, for a wholly indeterminate interval, let us see 
to it that all means of investigating the phenomena of spatial Distri- 
bution on the Earth be promoted, without discouragement of this or 
that tentative means as unscientific. The exploration of the terrestrial 
surface should be appreciated as a process of many necessary stages 
graduated from ignorance up to perfect knowledge. It is to the credit 
of the Eoyal Geographical Society that it has always encouraged tenta- 
tive, and, if you like, unscientific first efforts of exploration, especially 
in parts of the world where, if every prospect pleases, Man is very 
vile. Unscientific explorations are often the only possible means to 
the beginning of knowledge. Where an ordinary compass cannot be 
used except at instant risk of death it is worth while to push in a succes- 
sion of explorers unequipped with any scientific knowledge or apparatus 
at all, not merely to gain what few geographical data untrained eyes may 
see and uneducated memories retain, but to open a road on which ulti- 
mately a scientific explorer may hope to pass and work, because the local 
population has grown, bv intercourse with his unscientific precursors, 
less hostile and more indifferent to his prying activities. There seems 
1921 I 


to me now and then to be too much criticism of Columbus. If he 
thought America was India he had none the less found America. 

I have claimed for the geographer's proper field the study of the 
causation of Distribution. I am aware that this claim has been, and 
is, denied to Geography by some students of the sciences which he 
necessarily calls to his help. But if a Science is to be denied access to the 
fields of other sciences except it take service under them, what science 
shall be saved? I admit, however, that some disputes can hardly be 
avoided, where respective boundaries are not yet well delimited. Better 
delimitation is called for in the interest of Geography, because lack of 
definition, causing doubts and questions about her scope, confuses the 
distinction between the Science and its Application. The doubts are not 
really symptoms of anything wrong with Geography, but, since they 
may suggest to the popular mind that in fact something is wrong, they 
can be causes of disease. Their constant genesis is to be found in the 
history of a Science, whose scope has not always been the same, but has 
contracted during the course of ages in certain directions while expand- 
ing in others. If, in the third century B.C., Eratosthenes had been asked 
what he meant by Geography, he would have replied, the science of 
all the physical environment of Man whether above, upon, or below the 
surface of the Earth, as well as of Man himself as a physical entity. 
He would have claimed for its field what lies between the farthest star 
and the heart of our globe, and the nature and relation of everything 
composing the universe. Geography, in fact, was then not only the 
whole of Natural Science, as we understand the term, but also every- 
thing to which another term. Ethnology, might now be stretched at 
its very widest. 

Look forward now across two thousand years to the end of the 
eighteenth century a.d. Geography has long become a Mother. She 
has conceived and borne Astronomy, Chemistry, Botany, Zoology, 
and many more children, of whom about the youngest is Geology. 
They have all existences separate from hers and stand on their own 
feet, but they preserve a filial connection with her and depend still on 
their Mother Science for a certain common service, while taking off 
her hands other services she once performed. Restricting the scope 
of her activities, they have set her free to develop new ones. In doing 
this she will conceive again and again and bear yet other children 
during the century to follow — Meteorology, Climatology, Oceano- 
graphy, Ethnology, Anthropology, and more. Again, and still 
more narrowly, this new brood will limit the Mother's scope; but ever 
and ever fecund, she will find fresh activities in the vast field of Earth 
knowledge, and once and again conceive anew. The latest child that 
she has borne and seen stand erect is, as I have said. Geodesy; and 
she has not done with conceiving. 

Ever losing sections of her original field and functions, ever add- 
ing new sections to them, Geography can hardly help suggesting 
doubts to others and even to herself. There must always be a cer- 
tain indefiniteness about a field on whose edges fresh specialisms are 
for ever developing towards a point at which they will break away to 
grow alone into new sciences. The Mother holds on awhile to the 


child, sharing its activities, loth to let go, perhaps even a little jealous of 
its growing independence. It has not heen easy to say at any given 
moment where Geography's functions have ended and those of, say. 
Geology or Ethnology have begun. Moreover, it is inevitably asked 
about this fissiparous science from which function after function has 
detached itself to lead life apart — what, if the process continues, as it 
shows every sign of doing, will be left to Geography later or sooner? 
Will it not be split up among divers specialisms, and become in time 
a venerable memory? It is a natural, perhaps a necessary, question. 
But what is wholly unnecessary is that any answer should be re- 
turned which implies a doubt that Geography has a field of research 
and study essentially hers yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow; still less 
which implies any suspicion that, because of her constant partmntion 
of specialisms Geography is, or is likely in any future that can be 
foreseen, to be moribund. 

Since Geography, as I understand it, is a necessary factor in the 
study of all sciences, and must be applied to. all if their students are 
to apprehend rightly the distribution of their own material, it is a 
necessary element in all education. Unless, on the one hand, its 
proper study be supported by such means as the State, the Univer- 
sities, and the great scientific Societies control, and, on the other, its 
application to the instruction of youth be encouraged by the same 
bodies, the general scientific standard in these islands will suffer; our 
system of education will lack an instrument of the highest utility for 
both the inculcation of indispensable knowledge and the training of 
adolescent intelligence; and a vicious circle will be set up, trained 
teachers being lacking in quantity and quality to train pupils to a 
high enough standard to produce out of their number sufficient trained 
teachers to carry on the torch. 

The present policy of the English Board of Education, as 
expressed in its practice, encourages a four-years' break in the geo- 
graphical training of the young, the break occurring between the ages 
of fourteen and eighteen, the best years of adolescent receptivity. If 
students are to be strangers to specifically geograpliical instruction 
during all that period, any geographical bent given to their minds 
before the age of fourteen is more than likely to have disappeared 
by the time they come to eighteen years. The habit of thinking 
geographically — that is, o^f considering group Distribution — cannot 
have been formed; and the students, not having learned the z-eal 
nature of the science applied, will not possess the groundwork 
necessary for the apprehension of the higher applications of Geo- 
graphy. Moreover, as Sir Halford Mackinder has rightly argued, an 
inevitable consequence of this policy is that the chief prizes and 
awards offered at the end of school-time are not to be gained by 
proficiency in Geography. Therefore, few students are likely to enter 
the University with direct encouragement to resume a subject dropped 
long before, at the end of the primary period of their education. 

It is not, of course, the business of schools, primary and 
socondai-y, to train specialists. Therefore one does not ask that pui-e 

I 2 


geographical science should have more than a small share of the 
compulsory curriculum. Only, that it have some share. If this is 
assured, then its applications, which on account of their highly 
educative influence deserve an equally compulsory but larger place 
in the curriculum, can be used to full advantage. The meaning and 
value of the geographical ingredient in mixed studies will stand good 
chance of being understood, and of exciting the lively interest of 
young students. In any case, only so will the Universities be likely 
to receive year by year students sufficiently grounded to make good 
use of higher geographical courses, and well enough disposed to 
Geography to pursue it as a higher study, and become in their turn 
competent teachers. 

The obligation upon the Universities is the same in kind, but 
qualitatively greater. They have to provide not only the highest 
teaching, both in the pure science and its applications, but also such 
encouragements as will induce students of capacity to devote their 
period of residence to this subject. The fii'st part of this obligatory 
provision has been recognised and met in varying degrees by nearly all 
British Universities during the past quarter of a century. A valuable 
report compiled recently by that veteran champion, Sir John Keltie, 
shows that, in regard to Geography, endowment of professorial chairs, 
allocations of stipends to Eeaders, Lecturers, and Tutors, supply of 
apparatus for research and instruction and organisation of ' Honour ' 
examinations, have made remarkable progress in our University world 
as a whole. But no single British University has yet provided all 
that is requisite or desired. Oxford and Cambridge, which have well- 
equipped geographical laboratories, still lack professorial chairs. Liver- 
pool, maintaining a well-staffed Department of Geography, and 
London, which, between University College and the School of 
Economics, provides all the staff and apparatus required for teaching, 
have endowed Chairs ; but they direct the attention of the holders to 
applications of Geography rather than to the pure Science. So do also 
the University of Manchester and the University College of Wales, 
both of which maintain geographical Professors. 

All the Universities, with but one or two exceptions, examine in 
the subject to a high standard, that set by Cambridge being perhaps 
the highest over the whole field of properly geographical study. This 
latter University, also, alone (if I am not mistaken), has met the second 
part of her obligation to Geography by the organisation of an Honours 
course of instruction and classified examination, which, if pursued 
throughout a student's residence, is sufficient in itself to secure 
graduation. At Cambridge, therefore, Geography may be said to stand 
on a par with any other self-contained Final Subject. Neither in 
London nor in Manchester (I am not quite sure about Liverpool, but 
believe its case to be the same) is Geography, in and by itself, all 
sufficient yet to secure graduation, though at each of these Universities 
it counts strongly in the Baccalaureate Honours course. Oxford offers 
distinctly less encouragement at present than any of the Universities just 
mentioned. Her teaching and her examination standard are as 
advanced as the best of theirs, and the highest award which she 



gives for proficiency in Geography, her Diploma ' with distinction ' 
counts towards the B.A. degree in at least as great a proportion as at 
any other University except Cambridge — it counts, in fact, as two- 
thirds of the whole qualification; but — and here's the rub! — the 
balance has to be made up by proficiency in some other subject up 
to a pass, not an Honours standard. Therefore the resultant degree 
does not stand before the world as one taken in Honours; and, 
although some candidates are notified as distinguished and some not 
in the geographical part of her examinations, the distinction is not 
advertised in the form to which the public is accustomed— namely, an 
Honours list divided into classes. The net result is that an Oxford 
diploma, however brilliantly won, commands less recognition in the 
labour market than would a class in an Honour School or Tripos. 
It should, however, be mentioned — though an infrequent occur- 
rence, not advertised by a class list, makes little impression on public 
opinion — that special geographical research, embodied in a thesis, can 
quahfy at Oxford for higher degrees than the B.A. — viz., for the B.Litt. 
and B.Sc. — without the support of other subjects. 

The reason of this equivocal status of Geography at Oxford is 
simply that, so far as the actual Faculties which control the courses 
for ordinary graduation are concerned, Geography is, in fact, an 
equivocal subject. No one Faculty feels that it can deal with the 
whole of it. The Arts Faculties will not accept responsibility for the 
elements of Natural and Mathematical Science which enter into its 
study and teaching — for example, into the investigation of the causes 
of Distribution, into the processes of Surveying, into Cartography, 
and into many other of its functions. Moreover, the traditional 
Oxford requirement of a literary basis for Arts studies is hard, if not 
impossible, to satisfy in Geography. The Faculty of Natural Science, 
on the other hand, is equally loth to be responsible for a subject which 
admits so much of the Arts element, especially into those applications 
of its data which enter most often into the instructional curriculum 
of adolescei:its — for example, its applications to History and to 

At this moment, then, there is an impasse at Oxford similar to 
that (it is caused by the same reason) which prevents the election of a 
Geographer, as such, either to the Eoyal Society on the one hand, or 
to the British Academy on the other. But ways out can be found 
if there be good will towards Geography, and such general recog- 
nition of the necessity of bringing it into closer relation with the 
established studies, as was implied by the examiners in the Oxford 
School of Liberae Humaniores last year, when, in an official notice, 
they expressed their sense of a lack of it in the historical work 
with which they had to deal. Faculties are comparatively 
modern organisations at Oxford as at Cambridge for the control of 
teaching and examining. Before them existed Boards of Studies, 
appropriated to narrower subjects ; and, indeed, such Boards have been 
constituted since Faculties became the rule and side by side with 
them. The Board, which at the first controlled at Oxford the Final 
Honour School of English, is an example and a valid precedent. 


Cambridge has found it possible to organise a mixed Board of Studies 
to manage a Final School of Geography, the Board being composed 
of representatives of both the Arts subjects and the Natural and Mathe- 
matical Sciences ; and this acts apparently to the general satisfaction 
even in the absence of a Professor of the special subject, for whose 
teaching and testing it was formed. Why, then, should Oxford not do 
likewise? If Cambridge has not waited for the endowment of a 
Professorial Chair in Geography, need Oxford wait? I am well 
aware that, when at the latter University the School of English came 
into existence, there were 'already two Chairs appropriated to its 
subject; and I grant that Oxford will not have the very best of all 
guarantees that a high standai'd will be maintained in the instructional 
courses and the examinations in Geography, until there is a Professor 
ad hoc. But guarantees sufficient for all practical purposes she could 
obtain to-morrow by composing a Board out of her existing teachers 
of Geography and kindred sciences. 

For the last time, then, let me rehearse the too familiar ' vicious 
circle.' The supply of good students depends on a supply of good 
teachers ; the supply of good teachers depends on a supply of good 
students. If either supply fails, it is not Geography alone, but all 
sciences and studies that will be damnified; for all require the best 
of tlie help she can give in proportion as her science grows and im- 
proves. History will be able to call but indifferent Geography to 
her assistance, if this science has been understaffed and discouraged by 
official reluctance to allow it a place of its own in the sun. Is there 
not still some such reluctance on the part of the Board of Education, 
of some of our Universities, and of the Civil Service Commissioners? 





I HAVE chosen as the subject of my address ' The Principles by which 
Wages are Determined ' because I think the most burning question in 
the industrial world to-day is the proper apportionment of the proceeds 
of industry between labour and capital. A strong feeling exists in the 
minds of many that the share of capital is too large and that labour is, in 
consequence, underpaid. There are those, of course, who hold with 
Mr. Tawney that capital is functionless and therefore entitled to no 
reward. It is not my intention to examine the grounds for this state- 
ment, for no one who has any experience of business can fail to recog- 
nise that under the existing organisation of business capital has a very 
definite function — that it is indeed essential to any industrial organisa- 
tion. If there is anyone in this room who has had dealings in the City 
for the purpose of raising a loan he will feel acutely — not merely the 
unpleasant consequences that would have awaited him had none of this 
functionless capital been placed at his disposal — but also the fact that 
the capitalist has a very definite idea of the importance of his own 
function. The capitalist would, indeed, automatically cease to exist if 
he were not needed and fulfilled no function, and the fact that every 
industrialist is obliged to go to him — often on bended knee — is sufficient 
answer to the proposition that he performs no useful service. Acquisi- 
tive he may be, but he only acquires wealth because he supplies some- 
thing for which there is a real need. Capital must be paid for just as 
much as any other commodity, and if any given industry is unable to 
pay sufficient to attract it, that industry must inevitably languish and 
ultimately perish. 

Many of our industrial troubles to-day arise from the fact that people 
concentrate on one aspect of the industrial problem only and refuse to 
consider it as a whole. They are so intent on the rights of labour or of 
capital that they overlook the fact that each is necessary to the other, 
and that neither can exist in isolation from the other. It is clearly 
important, therefore, that both capital and labour should understand, 
and, what is more, sympathise with, each other's point of view. And 
if I may venture a criticism it is that the capitalist has usually an in- 
tellectual grasp of the point of view of labour, but fails to bring a 
sympathetic understanding to bear on its aspirations. Labour, on the 
other hand, apart from some of the leaders whose opinions are in con- 
sequence suspect, neitlier understands nor sympathises with the 
capitalist standpoint. This is a real misfortune, for the two are indis- 
solubly bound together, and no progress is possible so long as they 


quarrel and pull in different directions. Clubs for the discussion of 
economic questions should be started all over the country, and every 
section of opinion should be represented in order that problems may be 
considered from every point of view. 

The wage problem is in essentials simple to grasp ; it is the problem 
of the division of the proceeds of industry between labour and capital. 
How are we to ensure that neither the capitalist nor the worker gets too 
large a share of the proceeds of industry ? How are we to provide that 
one class of labour does not get too much in relation to another ? How 
are we to secure that the consumer is not robbed by the exaction of too 
heavy a toll for services rendered ? But if the problem is easy to state 
the solution is by no means simple. Some people would cut the 
Gordian knot by referring every dispute as it arises to compulsory 
arbitration. But there are certain difficulties which must be overcome 
before arbitration can be successfully applied. In the first place, the 
principle of arbitration must be generally accepted by both sides. You 
cannot compel large bodies of men to work for a given wage, for there 
is no penalty that can be enforced against them if they refuse. Nor 
can you force employers on a large scale to pay a prescribed wage if 
they prefer to close their factories. The right to strike and the right 
to lock out must always lurk in the background, and nothing can 
prevent the exercise of both if enough men feel sufficiently strongly on 
one side or the other. The time may come when public opinion will 
recognise so acutely the evils of the strike and the lock-out that both 
sides will be prepared to accept the principle of arbitration. It is not 
perhaps too much to hope that one day the principles of reason and 
justice will triumph over the prevailing theory that might is right and 
that the only effective criterion of justice is what a man is strong enough 
to take and to hold. But that day has not yet dawned, and any scheme 
of compulsory arbitration would, under present conditions, be fore- 
doomed to failure. Meanwhile, an important step in the right direction 
has already been taken. The Government has been given powers to 
institute an inquiry into any trade dispute and to summon witnesses. 
Hence, although the decision of any such court of inquiry will not be 
binding on the two parties, yet the proceedings can be published and 
the public will be enabled to pass judgment on the actual facts. The 
development of these inquiries will be watched with great interest, and 
there are strong grounds for hoping that they will exercise an effective 
influence on the side of peace. It is important to notice that these 
inquiries will only be held after the two parties have met and failed to 
reach agreement. For by far the best method of settling a dispute is 
that the representatives of both sides should meet and negotiate with the 
object of finding some solution that is mutually satisfactory. It is only 
in the last resort, when all other means have failed, that recourse should 
be had to a higher authority. I must add that it is, in my opinion, 
regrettable that arbitration is not voluntarily accepted by both sides more 
often. There is a tendency at present for certain groups of employers 
to refuse arbitration, although the representatives of the Trade Unions 
concerned are prepared to do so, and I feel that this is a short-sighted 
policy. It must be confessed also that the feeling amongst employers 


that the rank and file of labour would refuse to be bound by an 
unfavourable arbitration award, even if their leaders had agreed to 
accept it, is not without foundation. 

A second objection to arbitration that has to be met is that the 
arbitrators must command the confidence of both sides. For arbitra- 
tion, in the sense of an award made by Government nominees, has long 
ago been tried and found wanting. Attempts have been made in times 
past to regulate wages and conditions of work either by Acts of Parlia- 
ment or by particular orders of the justices of the peace, but, on the 
whole, the results have been bad, and the well-known criticisms of 
Adam Smith appear to have been justified. For the laws were made 
and administered by the employing classes and took little account of 
the aims and aspirations of the workers. They were essentially con- 
servative in character and aimed rather at preserving the ancient 
privileges of the ruling classes than at developing the liberties of the 
ruled. Fortunately the growth of the labour movement has now made 
it possible to secure both a fair hearing and adequate representation for 
working-class interests. One result of the development of Trade 
Unionism has been to create a body of highly trained experts who can 
be relied on to do full justice to the cause of those whom they have 
been chosen to represent. The difficulty to-day is that the Trade 
Union leader, whose education and training have given him a wider 
grasp of economic problems than is possessed by his constituents, is 
often not treated with the confidence that he deserves and is not allowed 
that freedom and power to settle which is essential to the success of 
all negotiations. 

A third objection to arbitration, which leads up to the subject with 
which I am to deal more particularly to-day, is that there are at present 
no generally accepted principles governing industrial problems which 
the arbitrator has to interpret, and yet the success or failure of arbitra- 
tion as a method of settling industrial disputes depends ultimately on 
whether there are certain clear principles which the great majority are 
prepared to accept as just and reasonable. The function of an arbitra- 
tor is to interpret and apply accepted principles just as that of a judge 
is to interpret the principles embodied in the laws. It is not his 
business to lay down principles, and if he attempts to do so he will 
probably fail. That is why arbitration has so often miscarried and why 
the Hague tribunal was foredoomed to failure. For the disputes 
between nations are not as a rule differences as to the interpretation of 
a principle; they arise from a conflict of principles. Hence the danger 
that arbitrators will base their verdict on the woi'ding of treaties and 
agreements, on precedent and tradition, and serve merely to protect the 
atatus quo. This is a very real danger in industrial questions, for the 
industrial machine is extremely sensitive and complex, and needs con- 
tinually to be adjusted to an ever-changing environment. What is 
good for to-day will perhaps be wholly unsuited for to-morrow, and no 
worse fate can befall industry than that it should be fast bound in the 
tyranny of precedent. Another danger of special application to wages 
disputes is that, in the absence of real principles, an arbitrator may 
simply split the difference between the contentions oi the disputants, 



and there is a widespread feeling that, in the past, wages awards have 
largely been made by this rule-of-thumb method. It is of the first 
importance, therefore, that clear and well-recognised principles should 
be established, and in considering the question one would naturally 
expect to find guidance in the laws of those States which have adopted dj 
compulsory arbitration for wages disputes. Unfortunately they have ~ 
shirked the difficulty, and left it to the arbitrator to make and interpret 
his own code of rules. According to some Australian Acts reasonable 
wages are defined as ' the average prices of payment paid by reputable 
employers to employees of average capacity. ' But the ' reputable 
employers ' clause has proved a broken reed, and embodies no principle 
of practical value. For, in the first place, there are industries in which 
a standard wage is paid by all employers so that in the event of a 
dispute there are either no reputable or else no disreputable employers — 
whichever you please. In the second place, even if there are certain 
employers in an industry who pay higher wages than others, it does not 
follow either that the employers who pay less are not reputable or that 
the higher-paid employees are of average capacity. The probability is 
that they are not — that they are above the average. The justification 
for paying higher wages is that you get the pick of the basket by so 
doing. And efficiency is so important that it is worth the while of any 
given firm to adopt this course if it can be sure that others will not follow 
suit. If, unfortunately for it, they do, it no longer gets the pick, and 
the game is spoiled. Henry Ford is only able to pay higher wages than 
his rivals because this policy enables him to adopt the strictest tests 
of efficiency. 

The weakness of this clause has led the Australian Commonwealth 
to adopt another principle for the guidance of arbitrators, namely, that 
the conditions as to the remuneration of labour are to be such as the 
President of the Commonwealth Court of Conciliation and Arbitration 
shall declare to be fair and reasonable. That is not a very illuminating 
or helpful principle, and Mr. Higgins, the President of the Court, has 
complained very bitterly tliat the Legislature has left to him what it 
ought to have done itself by defining what is meant by ' fair and 
reasonable.' Everyone, even the disreputable employer, will agree that 
v/ages must be fair and reasonable, but with this meaningless proposi- 
tion our unanimity comes to an abrupt end, for we find the most 
divergent views as to what constitutes fairness or reasonableness. One 
school — and a powerful one, too — holds that a fair wage is one that is 
determined by the higgling of the market, that it is established by the 
law of supply and demand. ' The money rate of wages,' says Walter 
Bagehot, ' is a case of supply and demand — that is, it is determined by 
the amount of money which the owners of it wish to expend in labour, 
by the eagerness with which they want that labour, by the amount of 
labour in the market which wishes to sell itself for money, and by the 
eagerness with which the labourers desire that money. ' No doubt in a 
perfect world, and if everyone were a perfectly free agent, the law of 
supply and demand might safely be left to take its own course. And 
even in the imperfect world in which we live it has its value as a 
criterion in the determination of wages, and must always be regarded 


as one of ihe decisive fuctors, thougli not by any nirans the only one. 
It is true that the law may be harsh and inhuman in its operation when 
applied by harsh and inhuman men, but it has often proved of more 
advantage to the workers themselves than the solicitude of Parliament 
or its agents. There is a familiar ring about the history of a wages 
award in the London tailoring trade made by the justices of the peace 
in 1771. It can be paralleled in any country in any age. The wages 
of London tailors were settled at 2s. 6d. a day, ' but many master tailors 
gave some of their men 3s. a day; they paid the 15s. at the end of the 
week openly, and then put 3s. more for a man in some place where he 
knew where to find it. And if this money was not laid up for him on the 
Saturday night the master might be certain not to see his face on the 
Monday morning. ' 

But it must be remembered that in very many cases we are not 
free economic agents, and the open competition which is essential to 
the successful functioning of the law of supply and demand is con- 
spicuously absent. It is absent, for example, in the case of a general 
coal strike or a railway strike, where the whole community is 
threatened with disaster. It is absent, too, if the employers in any 
big industry threaten a lock-out as the alternative to a reduction in 
wages, because there is no reasonable chance for the men to find other 
employment, and starvation may stare them in the face. In such 
cases the law of supply and demand should not be allowed to decide 
the issue, for the economic wage would be either too high or too 
low from the standpoint of what is fair and reasonable. State 
intervention therefore becomes necessary. But the law of supply 
and demand always has been one of the chief factors in deter- 
mining the price of labour, and will continue to be so as long as the 
existing industrial system lasts. For it is merely another way of 
stating that a free exchange of services, as of commodities, is the 
foundation of all trade. Indeed, no other practicable method has ever 
been devised for determining the relative value of certain services. 
When a new industry is started, for example, it is necessary to attract 
workers from those already in existence, and this can only be done 
by offering higher wages or tetter conditions. Similarly, if there is a 
shortage of workers in any established industry owing to increased 
prosperity, the personnel must be drawn from outside by the offer of 
greater inducements unless the shortage can be made good from the 
ranks of the unemployed. Again, if there is a general expansion of 
industry throughout the country, accompanied as it must be by a 
general increase of wealth, the greater demand for workers will cause 
wages to rise. Indeed, as Adam Smith has pointed out, it is hi a pro- 
gressive society, in which the demand for labour continually rises, that 
wages are highest. ' It is not the actual greatness of national wealth,' 
he says truly — and we shall do well to take his words to heart in these 
days — ' but its continued increase which occasions a rise in the wages 
of labour.' In a stationary or declining society wages are bound to 

But, important though the part played by the law of supply and 
demand is in determining wages, there is another equally important 


principle which governs them — namely, that all men must be paid a 
living wage. The former is easy to understand and works automati- 
cally, though not always satisfactorily. It is important to remember, 
however, that if the law of supply and demand works badly the fault 
lies not with pohtical economy but with ourselves. The fact that 
wages postulate a willing buyer and a willing seller of labour does not 
justify the employer in driving the hardest bargain he can. The inter- 
pretation of this law must be consistent with the higher moral law 
of our duty towards our neighbour, and the many shortcomings in our 
industrial life may, in my opinion, be attributed entirely to the fact 
that we have failed to apply the moral law. It is not the system 
which is wrong, but those who work it — employers, employed, and 
consumers alike; it is the hearts of men that must be changed, 
not the forms of industrial organisation, if we are to cure industrial 

But, if the law of supply and demand is easily intelligible, the 
principle of the living wage has given rise to many controversies. It 
is obvious that a man must be paid at least enough to keep body and 
soul together, otherwise the human race would cease to exist. But 
we mean by a living wage something more than a bare pittance 
sufficient to maintain a man's physical health at a proper standard. 
This is the criterion for an ox or an ass, not a human being. We 
mean a wage suitable to the development of the physical, moral, and 
intellectual attributes of mankind. This is what Mr. Clynes, one of 
the clearest thinkers in the labour world to-day, means by a living 
wage. He defines it as one v.'hich should ensure to the human being 
a condition of life ' equal to the expectations and tastes of a civilised 
population of this age.' This is an ideal which we should all, I think, 
readily accept. But I must emphasise the point that it is an ideal, 
and that therefore it may not be capable of realisation in all times 
and in all places. Wages, as I have pointed out above, depend on 
the accumulated wealth of a community, which is obviously greater 
in times of progress and development than during a period of stagnation 
or retrogression. Clearly, therefore, wages must vary from time to 
time, and it is idle to pretend that any country can guarantee per- 
manently a wage equal to the expectations and tastes of a civilised 
population. We are now living in a period of industrial stagnation, 
following upon one of intense activity. It is inevitable, therefore, that 
wages should fall. It is inevitable, too, that the wages in one indus- 
trial country should approximate to those of others where competition 
for foreign markets is concerned. Unless we have greater natural 
advantages than our foreign rivals, or are more industrious, or have 
superior mechanical contrivances, we cannot pay higher wages here 
than there, for if we do they will underquote us and take away our 
foreign trade, which is essential to our existence. And this is just 
what is happening to-day. It is clear, therefore, that a lowered 
standard of civilisation in one country will react disastrously on 
others, and that if the more fortunate are not willing to lend a helping 
hand to their poorer neighbours they will themselves be dragged down 
to the same level. Instead of trying to keep Germany under, we ought, 


therefore, to try to put her on her feet, not merely as a moral duty, 
but on the lowest grounds of self-interest. 

I have dwelt at some length on the point that a civilised wage such 
as we all desire may be unattainable, because it is of critical importance 
to-day, and because, obvious though it may appear, it is widely ignored. 
We are continually being told that the standard wage should be the 
1914 wage, plus a percentage equivalent to the increase in the cost 
of living since that date. And yet we are obviously poorer than we 
were in 1914, and it is equally obvious that our foreign trade is slipping 
from our grasp, owing to the competition of Germany and America. 
From a practical point of view what is necessary is not to work out 
a standard wage which we should like to pay if we could, but to deter- 
mine what wages we can afford to pay in each industry without losing 
our foreign markets. This can only be settled by a frank discussion 
between employers and employed, and it is essential that employers 
should disclose all the facts. This would reveal that in many industries 
prices have fallen faster than costs, and that work is being taken at a 
loss. This is, I believe, right as a temporary measure, because it is 
not reasonable that all the sacrifices should be borne by the workers. 
But it can be only temporary, otherwise fresh capital will not be forth- 
coming, and our industries will perish for the want of it. 

It is clear, therefore, that in accepting the principle of a civilised 
wage we must have due regard to the progress, maintenance, and 
well-being of the industry under consideration. 

But it may be that, whilst the great majority of trades and industries 
in the country can afford to pay what may fairly be regarded as a 
civilised wage, some few industries may be unable to do so. One way 
of meeting the difficulty is by the imposition of a special tariff on 
imported goods, on the Hues of the Safeguarding of British Industries 
Bill. I must not be led too far astray into the byways of controversy, 
but I confess that I think this is a thoroughly bad solution. I do not 
object to the protection of infant industries, but if a full-grown industry 
cannot walk without crutches we are better without it, even if its 
absence may embarrass us in a world war once every hundred years. 
As a matter of fact, however, sweated wages are usually the result of 
inefficiency — absence of labour-saving devices and bad organisation. 
So that often the real remedy for a trade in which wages are depressed 
is an expert inquiry into its metliods of working, and State-aided 
scientific research, which has an important field ahead of it. 

If it is accepted that the basic wage of a worker must be a living 
wage and that this term should be interpreted as liberally as possible 
consistently with the progress, maintenance, and well-being of the 
industries of the country, a further question arises. What do we mean 
by a worker? Do we mean a single man, a childless married man, or 
a man with a family? Obviously, I think, the cost of living for a 
married man with a family is greater than for a single man, although 
T have heard the opposite argued, very unco'nvincingly. Is a living 
wage to cover the expenses of a married man with an average family of, 
say, three children? Or should it merely cover the man, some other 
means being found to provide for the wife and family ? The case for a 


single-man wage plus family allowances has recently been put forward 
with great ability by Miss E. P. Rathbone. She points out that 27 per 
cent, of the men worker's over twenty in England are bachelors or 
widowers without dependent children; 24.7 per cent, are married 
couples without children or with no dependent child below fourteen; 
16.6 per cent, have one dependent child; 13 per cent, have two depen- 
dent children; 8.8 per cent, have three dependent children; and 9.9 per 
cent, have more than three dependent children. Hence a living wage 
based on the five-member family is adapted to the needs only of one of 
the smallest actual groupings. She argues, therefore, that the child- 
less man is getting too high a wage in relation to the man with a family, 
and that the distribution of the wage fund is uneconomical. Her sugges- 
tion is that the wives and children should be provided for out of a 
separate fund maintained by contributions from employers calculated 
according to the number of their male employees, whether married or 
single. Thus the employer will have no inducement to prefer single 
to married men, whilst every wage-earner and his family will be 
assured of an income at least adequate to the needs of healthy physical 
subsistence, and at the same time the wages bill of the country will be 
substantially reduced, thus relieving industry of a burden that is 
threatening to strangle it. In support of her proposals, she points out 
that, so far as the children are concerned, this plan has already been 
embodied in the New South Wales ' Maintenance of Children Bill,' and 
that Mr. Hughes has foreshadowed the intention of the Federal 
Government of Australia to introduce a similar Bill into the Federal 
Parliament. It may be added that a scheme similar to that outlined 
by Miss Eathbone has actually been adopted by the textile industries 
of the Eoubaix-Tourcoing district of France. 

Even if it be assumed that Miss Rathbone 's scheme would have the 
results that are claimed for it, I am strongly of opinion that the remedy 
would prove far worse than the disease. In the first place, it will, I 
am convinced, prove impossible to confine this scheme to the wage- 
earners; it must be extended to the salaried classes, and, in fact, to the 
whole community. It will thus inevitably fall to be administered by 
the State, and I confess that I can imagine no more detestable form of 
State Socialism. For it will involve a State interference in the home 
life which will make the war-time activities of the Government fade 
into insignificance. In the second place, however much we may 
attempt to disguise the fact, the effect of a family fund must be to 
subsidise families at the expense of the childless. I can see no justifica- 
tion for the argument that a wife and family are a burden which no man 
can reasonably be expected to bear, and from which, therefore, he must 
be relieved by the State or his more fortunate celibate fellow-citizens. 
Nor is his marriage necessarily a benefit to the community to be grate- 
fully acknowledged by a dole. In fact, I can imagine the Dean of St. 
Paul's, for example, arguing that a premium should be paid to those who 
do not increase the population of the country. All virile and healthy 
nations have recognised that the husband is responsible for the main- 
tenance of his family, that he must be regarded as the bread-winner, 
and that only thus can the family be so closely knit together that it is 


in the true sense of the word a unit. In my opinion the State has 
ah'eady gone too far in the direction of taking over the duties of parents, 
and I regard as deplorable the present tendency to throw more and 
more of the burden in respect of housing, medical attendance, dentistry, 
food, clothing, and education on the State, thus relieving parents of 
what should in large measure be their own responsibility. This policy 
breeds up a race of slaves — not free men. 

I have dealt so far with two principles by which wages are deter- 
mined—the law of supply and demand, and the principle of a living 
wage. I will now pass on to a third — the principle that wages should 
he proportioned to the service rendered. In some I'espccts this result 
is achieved through the operation of the law of supply and demand, 
and in the last resort the price that one man is prepared to take and 
another to give for labour is the only practical criterion of its value. 
But the value of the service rendered is not merely the i-esult of a 
haggling match. It is clearly just, for example, that a good worker 
should receive higher wages than a bad one, that the man who produces 
much should be paid more than the man who produces little. By far 
the best way of securing this end is through the establishment wherever 
possible of a piece-work or premium bonus system. Under such a 
system not only does the payment received bear a direct relation to the 
results attained, it also acts as an incentive to greater effort. It might 
naturally be expected therefore that the Trade Union Movement would 
encourage a system that has such obvious advantages. Unfortunately, 
however, some of the leading Trade Unions are opposed to payment by 
results, and, if they cannot suppress it altogether, are successful in 
preventing its extension. The explanation of their attitude, of course, 
is a fear, often well justified by past experience, that payment by results 
will lead to speeding-up followed by an arbitrary reduction in the rates. 
It will lead me too far afield if I attempt a detailed discussion of this 
question, and I will merely say the objections, though serious, are by no 
means insuperable. Some firms, for example, have agreed that if an 
alteration is made in their piece-work list the saving shall always be 
used to increase the wages of some other section of their workers. In 
other cases a piece-work list is mutually agreed by representatives of 
employers and workers, and can only be altered after negotiation. I 
should like to emphasise the importance to our national industries of 
encouraging payment by results, because it is one of the surest ways of 
increasing efficiency. If the principle were accepted by both labour 
and capital, as it should be, a frank discussion would disclose the 
means of overcoming the abuses that experience has proved to exist. 

But there will always be many classes of work where payment by 
results is not practicable, and where a time rate must be adhered to. 
Should some differentiation be attempted in respect of time rates ? The 
period of maximum efficiency lies between the ages of thirty and fifty, 
and it has been suggested that wages should be based on a sliding scale 
according to age, reaching a maximum at the age of thirty and tapering 
off after the age of fifty. Any cut-and-dried rule of this description 
would be most objectionable and work with great harshness. There are 
many men over fifty who are far more efficient than younger men, and 


it would be unjust to place them on a lower scale of wages. Moreover, 
the result of such a sliding scale would be to give an undue preference 
to older men, when employment is scarce, at the expense of younger 
men with growing families. At the same time, something should be 
done to meet the case of the old, the infirm, and the maimed, although 
the matter cannot be left to the sole discretion of employers without 
serious risks. In Australia the arbitration laws empower arbitrators 
to license old, slow or infirm workers at lower rates, and I think the 
same principles should be adopted here. In particular, wounded 
soldiers in receipt of a pension should be licensed to accept lower rates 
where their working efficiency has been impaired, since it is an injustice 
that men who have been wounded in the defence of their country should 
be handicapped in getting work. 

The principle of equal pay for the same work leads on to the con- 
sideration of women's wages. We are all familiar with the battle-cry 
of ' equal pay for equal work ' which has a convincing ring about it. 
But when one considers it more closely one realises that it is extremely 
difficult to define what is meant by equal work. How are you to com- 
pare the work of a hospital nurse and a stockbroker, or the services of 
a charwoman and a sailor? A comparison between the work of men 
and women is possible where both are doing identically similar jobs, 
though even here there are many different factors which make it diffi- 
cult. But in practice the tendency is for men and women to do 
different types of work. During the war women to a large extent 
replaced men in the factories, but their introduction nearly always led 
to a reclassification of the work. Except in the earliest days of the war, 
men and women did not work indiscriminately at the same jobs ; certain 
classes of work were allocated to them, and, as time went on, they were 
usually collected into separate shops. Since the war men have largely 
reverted to their old jobs, replacing women, and the tendency to 
differentiate between the spheres of men and women grows more and 
more marked. It is the exception that they do the same work as men, 
and a comparison between the value of their work and man's in his 
different sphere serves no useful purpose. Their wages must largely 
be governed by the law of supply and demand, and since the openings 
for women are relatively fewer than for men ; since for a variety of 
reasons their cost of living is lower; and since their average term of 
service is shorter and therefore their experience is less than that of men, 
because they usually cease work on marriage, it is inevitable that, on 
the whole, their wages should be lower than those paid to men. 

The three main principles governing wages, then, are the law of 
supply and demand implying freedom of contract or a willing buyer 
and a willing seller, the cost of living, and the principle that wages shall 
be proportioned to the service rendered. There are certain other con- 
siderations referred to by Adam Smith as leading to inequality of wages 
which may be briefly mentioned. They are: (1) The agi'eeableness or 
disagreeableness of the work to be done ; (2) The expense of learning a 
trade or profession ; (3) Constancy of employment ; (4) Eesponsibility ; 
(5) The risk of failure. 

It has been suggested that another factor in determining wages in 


any given industry should be the financial prosperity of that industry, 
that wages should bear some definite relation to profits and presumably 
to losses, although this fact is seldom emphasised. Profit-sharing may, 
or may not, form a valuable adjunct to the wages system, but no form 
of co-partnership or of the co-operative movement can ever replace the 
wage system, for the simple reason that you cannot keep body and soul 
together on a minus quantity of food ; there must always be some 
guaranteed minimum. The essence of the wage system is that the 
employee is assured of his wage whether the business makes a profit or 
a loss, and the fundamental wage on which those of all higher grades 
are based — namely, the wage of the unskilled worker — must be deter- 
mined by the cost of living, not solely by considerations of profit and 
loss. I can see no other practicable basis for a wage system, and 
even under Guild Socialism or State Socialism this principle must 
be operative — however much the pill may be gilded by high-sounding 

Wages, of course, do tend to rise in any industry when trade 
conditions improve, and in that sense profits are shared, but the 
exclusive enjoyment of the improvement does not remain for long. 
If, for example, the tinplate industry is prosperous, the workers 
in that trade are the first to feel the benefits of improved 
conditions. But soon the miner who supplies the coal on which 
the industry depends, the railway worker who transports it, the 
butcher and the baker who feed the tinplate worker, and so on, 
will also require a share. Moreover, the coal-owner and the railway 
company will expect consideration, so that in the end the prosperity 
of one industry tends to become generally diffused. And this tendency 
is natural, partly because of the dependence of one trade on another, 
and partly because the wages of one trade or employment tend to bear 
a definite relation to those of other trades. Hence there are strong 
forces always at work in the direction of equalisation, both as regards 
wages and profits. Again, labour, in this country, is organised on 
a craft, not an industrial, basis. There are fitters, turners, carpenters, 
joiners, boilermakers, employed in a number of different industries, 
and their wages are those of their craft ; they are not fixed in relation 
to the industry for which they happen to be working. It is one of the 
cardinal principles of craft unionism that there should be a uniform 
wage for all able-bodied members of the same craft. A railway porter 
on the London and North Western Eailway, for example, claims the 
same wage as his brother on the Great Central, and the latter would 
be outraged at the suggestion that he should accept a lower wage than 
the former merely because the London and North Western Eailway 
happens to be more prosperous than the Great Central. 

I think that the importiance which the workers themselves attach 
to the maintenance of a definite relation between the wages of different 
classes of employment has been tindeiTated by those who advocate 
profit-sharing as a panacea for all our industrial troubles. Mr. Cramp 
put the case very well last year when presenting the demand of the 
railway men for increased wages before the National Wages Board. 
'So 'far as the workers are concerned,' he said, 'their status is 
1921 K 


determined to a greater degree than that of any other section of society 
by the amount of wages they receive. In otlier waU^s of life a man's 
titles or his learning or his particular standing frequently are not related 
to the amount of income he receives, but with the workers a, man's 
standing is almost entirely related to his income. Men, women, and 
their children are judged, and their social conditions are determined, 
by the amount of wages or salary which they are able to earn and the 
consequent standard of life that they are able to maintain.' He pro- 
ceeded to make a comparison between the wages of railway men and 
those of other callings — in particular dockers, miners, policemen, and 
municipal workers — ^with the object of showing that the pay of railway 
men was low in comparison with that of other walks of life. 

The fact that any particular industry is making large profits is not — 
per se — a ground for increasing the remuneration of the workers any 
more than the fact of a Budget surplus is a justification for increasing 
the salaries of Civil Servants all round. We feel that the general tax- 
payer is entitled to the saving, and it may be that the general public is 
entitled to participate in the prosperity of an industry either through 
a reduction in prices or through the taxation of profits. 

Another objection to profit-sharing deserves a brief mention. It 
is that if it is to succeed the capital employed must be high in relation 
to the wages paid, otherwise the profits to be shared will be insignificant. 
Suppose, for example, that the capital employed in a business is 
1,000,000J., and the annual wages are 3,000,000L, as might well 
happen in a shipyard; suppose, again, we assume the profit earned to be 
10 per cent., which would be a very high average in the shipbuilding 
trade — before the War it did not, I Iselieve, exceed 3 per cent, for the 
industry. If half the profits went to capital and the other half were 
shared between labour and capital — a very common form of profit- 
sharing — labour would receive 25,000L, or an addition of only twopence 
in the £ on its wages. Bearing in mind the increases that have actually 
taken place in recent years, it will be recognised that such an addition 
would be regarded as insignificant. The fact is that in any country 
where labour is well organised wages absorb as much as can be allotted 
to labour consistently with a reasonable return to capital. And if a 
reasonable return is not offered to capital no capital will be forth- 

It is extremely doubtful if labour would tolerate a different remunera- 
tion between the various firms within an industry owing to the im- 
portance attached to the maintenance of a definite relation between the 
wages of different groups of men. But if they were prepared to accept 
a differentiation other forces would counteract it. A successful firm 
making large profits would be able tO' offer higher remuneration than 
an unsuccessful one, and thus attract the best men. Theoretically 
this may seem right and proper, but in practice the unsuccessful 
firm would find itself obliged to guarantee a bonus to its workers 
equivalent to the share of the profits accruing to the workers in the 
more prosperous ventures. Otherwise it would find that it could only 
attract the least efficient workers at a time when efficiency was most 
needed to save it. 


Tlio objection that under a profit-sharing system there might be 
"laring inequaHties as between one business and another has been 
anticipated under the so-called profit-sharing scheme recently adopted 
in the coal-mining industry. It was realised that any scheme would 
fail if a; collier working on a rich mine were to receive far more than 
his fellow-worker on a poor mine immediately adjacent, although the 
type of work done by each and the hours of labour might be exactly 
the same. Hence the country has been divided into districts, and within 
each district there is no variation in the scale of pay. A standard wage 
is fixed in each district, being in effect the July 1914 rates plus, in the 
case of piece-workers, the percentage additions which were made con- 
sequent upon the reduction of hours from eight to seven ; and there is a 
guaranteed minimum for a certain period of the standard wages plus 
20 per cent. A standard profit is fixed equivalent to 17 per cent, of 
the cost of the standard wages, and any surplus after paying standard 
wages, costs of production, and standard profits is to be shared between 
labour and capital, 83 per cent, being appHed in each district to the 
payment of wages above the standard wages, and 17 per cent, being 
allocated to the owners as profit. This is not a profit-sharing scheme 
in the proper sense of the temi because, while the district as a whole 
may make a profit, and therefore wages may increase in the propor- 
tions specified, certain individual firms may make a loss and yet be 
obliged to pay the increased wages. It is possible that if such a scheme 
is to prove workable, the mines in each district will be obliged to amalga,- 
mate, for under present arrangements the poor mines will in effect 
be penalised by the profits of the rich ones, whilst the latter will 
benefit owing to the reduction in average profits due to the losses on 
the former. Hence the distinction between the poor and rich mines 
will merely be accentuated. It is more probable, however, that there 
will be no average profits during the next few years, since substantial 
reductions in the price of coal are essential and inevitable, and that the 
scheme will prove to be still-born. Should it, however, turn out to 
be a vigorous infant and lead on, as I have suggested, to district 
amalgamations, a further consequence will be that the miners will 
make a strong demand for a voice in the control of the industry. This 
is a natural consequence of effective profit-sharing, and one which I 
believe to be unworkable. It would, however, carry me beyond the 
scope of this paper to discuss the question, and I will merely say that 
I believe the ultimate control in any business must always rest with 
those who bear the financial responsibility. 

Whilst I do not believe that profit-sharing will ever solve the 
problem of the fair distribution of the proceeds of industry between 
labour and capital, it may prove of advantage in particular cases, and 
it is to be hoped that experiments will continue to be made in this 
direction. In fact, there is much to be gained by experiments in as 
many directions as possible. Co-partnership, the co-operative move- 
ment, which is a form of profit-sharing among consumers, building 
and other guilds. State and municipal management, individual enter- 
prise — all have a part to play in satisfying the various demands of 
human nature, and there is room for all. For elasticity is an essential 

K 3 


feature of successful industrial development, and the individual liberty 
which this implies can only be found in countries where the law is 
respected and there is a strong Government. For, as has been truly 
said, ' Where order reigns her sister liberty cannot be far.' The out- 
standing feature in the history of our own Empire, as of every successful 
commercial community, and the lesson of Europe to-day, is that indus- 
trial prosperity depends upon stable political conditions combined with 
individual liberty. The absence of either always has resulted and 
always will result in industrial stagnation and disaster. 

The conclusions, then, that I would put before you are these : There 
is no simple and straightforward system applicable to the division of 
the proceeds of industry between labour and capital. Both are essential 
to industry, and therefore to each other; hence the deeper interests of 
both lie in co-operation, and the task before the leaders of labour and 
of capital consists in promoting the interests of both, not in selfishly 
pursuing the advantage of the one at the expense of the other. Both 
must recognise the need of contenting the other, for if capital is noi 
satisfied its springs will dry up and the industrial body will wither 
away, whilst if labour is discontented and the members of the industrial 
body war against each other the end is death. The real solution of 
the problem is a moral one, and can be achieved only if justice and 
virtue govern the lives of the members of the community, for all 
human organisations must reflect the character of those who work 
them. Arbitration offers no immediate solution of the difficulty, for 
to be effective it must be voluntarily accepted by the majority on both, 
sides, and the principles by which arbitrators are to be guided must 
first be clearly expressed and accepted. But it is the goal at which 
civilisation must aim, and as a step in this direction public inquiries 
into all disputes between labour and capital should be encouraged 
after all attempts at mutual agreement have failed. 

A clearer understanding of economic truths in the industrial world 
is essential if disputes are to be avoided. It must be recognised that 
the wealth available for wages depends on the total production of the 
country, and that whilst, if production increases, wages will go up, 
if it falls wages must come down. It must be recognised, too, that 
where foreign competition is concerned the wages paid in one industrial 
country must have an important bearing on those paid in others. 

So long as the present industrial system continues — and no alter- 
native system that is practicable at any rate within a measurable 
distance of time has ever been suggested — the wages system must 
prevail. Profit-sharing is no substitute for it, since, amongst other 
reasons which I have referred to, the amount necessary to provide a 
living wage will and should absorb practically the whole of the share 
available for labour, leaving only a reasonable return to capital sufficient 
to encourage its production. 

The fundamental wage, or the wage of unskilled labour, should be 
a living wage — that is, a wage suitable to the development of the 
physical, moral, and intellectual attributes of the citizens of a free 
country. But it must be recognised that the degree to which this ideal 
can be attained must depend on the skill and endeavour of the people. 


and clue regard must be had to the progress, mahitenance, and well- 
being of the industries of the country. It is idle to hope that the 
living wage can be based permanently on any given standard of civilisa- 
tion; it is bound to fluctuate at different periods, and will depend 
largely on whether the industries of a country are progressive, stagnant, 
or retrogressive. Wages above the minimum or living wage are 
determined mainly by the law of supply and demand, but certain other 
factors enter into their determination, notably the principle that wages 
should be proportioned to the value of the service rendered, implying 
payment by results. There never was a time when it was more impor- 
tant that all should grasp, not merely what is possible, but what is 
reasonable as i-egards wages. For the artificial prosperity and trade 
activity that followed upon the War are at an end, and the reaction 
has begun. How long it will last no one can tell, but it is reasonably 
certain that we must expect a period of depression and falling wages 
and profits. It is essential that the wage-earners should recognise 
that reductions are inevitable, and not the fault of the capitalists; 
they should be satisfied that all reductions proposed are reasonable. 
The capitalist, on his side, must be prepared to accept his full share 
of sacrifice, and be ready, if need be, as a temporary measure, not 
merely to receive no profits, but to face a loss, in order that our 
difficulties may be tided over until our trade recovers and prosperity 



Professor A. H. GIBSON, D.Sc, 



^Ihe extent to which the water powers of the world have been investi 
gated and developed during the past decade forms one of the strikin 
engineering features of the period. Although falling or flowing water 
formed the earliest of the natural sources of energy to be utilised for 
industrial purposes, it is of interest to note that two-thirds of the 
water power at present in use has been developed within the last ten 

The reasons for the revival of interest in this question are partly 
technical and partly economic. 

The technical development of electric generation and transmission 
has made it economically possible to utilise powers remote from any 
industrial centre, while a rapid increase in the demand for energy for 
general industrial purposes and for the many electro-chemical, electro- 
physical, and electro-metallurgical processes which are now in general 
use, and whose field is rapidly growing, has provided a ready outlet for 
all such energy as could be cheaply developed. 

The urgent demand for energy to supply the abnormal requirements 
of the war period, combined with the world shortage of fuel, was 
responsible for an unprecedented rate of development in most countries 
with available water-power resources, and especially in those countries 
normally dependent on imported fuel. 

Thus in France some 850,000 water horse-power has been put into 
commission since 1915, and the country now has 1,600,000 horse-power 
under control as compared with 750,000 before the war. In Switzer- 
land some 600,000 horse-power has been developed since 1914, or is in 
course of construction, as compared with 880,000 horse-power before 
the war. In Spain, where the pre-war output was 150,000 horse-power, 
the present output is 620,000 hoi'se-power, and about 260,000 horse- 
power is now in course of development, while the Spanish Ministerio de 
Fomento is considering the development of some 2,000,000 horse-power 
to be delivered into a network of transmission lines covering the 
industrial parts of the country. 

In Italy, schemes totalling about 300,000 horse-power are under 
way, and it is estimated that the total output will shortly amount to 
2,000,000 horse-power. The Government Hydrographical Department 
is now engaged in gauging and surveying the profiles of the principal 
rivers, and statistics of available reservoir sites, of lakes suitable for 
storage, and of available horse-power are being compiled. 


Japan, which only very recently began to investigate her water 
powers, has, since 1916, developed over 1,000,UU0 horse-power, or 
almost twenty per cent, of her available resources. 

In Canada and the United States many large schemes have recently 
been brought into service, and some extremely large installations are 
now in course of construction or are projected. Tfius the Queenston- 
Chippewa project on the Canadian side of the Niagara Kiver is intended 
to develop some 500,000 horse-power, while a projected development 
of the St. Lawrence River will be capable of yielding 1,700,000 horse- 
power. In Canada the total development (2.3 million horse-power) in 
]i)18 was almost tliree times as great as in 1910. In the United States 
of America the development has increased from something under two 
million horse-power in 1901, to 5.3 millions in 1908, and to nearly 
10.0 milUons in 1920. 

Eapid as has been the development of water power in the United 
States in the past, it has been retarded by the fact that the privilege 
of using the national forests or other public lands for water-power 
development has only been granted by the issuing of permits which 
were not available for any definite period and which were revocable 
at the will of the Granting Authority. In the case of development on 
navigable streams, whether on public or private land, each scheme has 
required a special Act of Congress, and these Acts could be revoked 
by Congress at any time. Owing to the uncertainty of tenure there 
has naturally been some reluctance to invest capital in such under- 

By the recent Federal Water Power Act, signed in June 1920, 
licences for such developments may now be issued under the juris- 
diction of a new body, known as the Federal Power Commission, for a 
period not exceeding fifty years, at the end of wliich the hcence may be 
renewed, or the Government may take over the enterprise upon com- 
pensation of the licensee. In the issuing of licences, preference is to 
be given to State and municipal applications. The effect of this Act 
may be inferred from the fact that, within a month of its being signed, 
appUcations for hcences to develop over 500,000 horse-power had been 
filed. The duty of collecting, recording, and publishing data regarding 
the utilisation of water resources, the water-power industry and its 
relation to other industries, and regarding the capacity, development 
costs, and relationship to possible markets, of power sites, has also been 
assigned to this Federal Power Commission. 

World's Available Water Power. — During the past few years much 
attention has been paid to statistics of available and developed water 
powers. In the case of developed powers, these are usually stated in 
terms of the capacity of the installed machinery. This machinery is 
in general only used to its full capacity over a portion of each day, 
although in many such cases water is available for providing continuous 
power if desired. 

Estimates of potential power are always to be accepted with con- 
siderable reserve. In order to make a reasonably accurate estimate, 
the run off from the catchment area, and the variation in this run off 
from month to month and from year to year, must be known, and it 
is only in comparatively rare cases that this information is as yet 



available. Moreover, there is as yet no standard basis on which 
potential power is computed. 

The power available from a given stream during the wet season 
is many times as great as dm'ing the di'y season unless sufficient storage 
is available to equalise the flow throughout the year, and the cost of 
such storage would in general be prohibitive, even if it were physically 
possible to provide it. 

The United States Geological Survey takes the maximum useful, 
flow of a stream as being that which may be guaranteed during six 
months in each year. The minimum flow is taken as the average which 
can be guaranteed over the two driest consecutive seven-day periods 
in each year, along with the additional flow which may be obtained 
during this period by developing any available storage capacity in the 
upper waters of the stream. Estimates of potential power based on 
storage capacity are, however, subject to a wide margin of error owing 
to the hmited data available, and in the following table the potential 
water power is estimated on the basis of the maximum flow as just 
defined, and in terms of continuous 24-hom' power. 

{Millions of Horse-Power.) 



Great Britain . . . . . . | 







' Australia 


Africa (East) 


„ (South) 


„ (West) 

30-0 to 



British Guiana . 


fl .2 S 

India and Ceylon 

New Zealand 

^ Papua 







Dutch East Indies 
































United States of America 



Adopting these figures it appears that the available horse-power 
of the world is of the order of two hundred millions, of which 
approximately twenty-five millions is at present developed or is in 
course of development. 

Power Available in Great Britain and in the British Empire. — With 
the noteworthy exceptions of Canada and New Zealand, practically 

* Including projected extensions to plants now in operation. 
^ Projected but not yet constructed. 


nothing had been done, prior to 1915, by any part of the British 
Empire, to develop or even systeuiatically to investigate tiie possibili- 
ties of developing its water powers. It is true that a number of large 
installations had beei:i constructed in India and Tasmania, but their 
aggregate output was relatively inconsiderable. 

Since then, however, there has been a general tendency to initiate 
such investigations, and at the present time these are being carried out 
with varying degrees of thoroughness in India, Ceylon, Australia, South 
and East Africa, and British Guiana. While it is known that there 
IS ample water power in Newfoundland, Nigeria, Rhodesia, Papua, and 
the Gold Coast, no very definite information is available, nor are any 
steps apparently being taken to obtain data in these countries. 

The Water Power Committee of the Conjoint Board of Scientific 
Societies, which has been studying the state of investigation and 
development throughout the Empire since 1917, has, however, come 
to the conclusion that its total available water-power resources are 
at least equivalent to between 50 and 70 milUon horse-power. 

Of the developed power in the Empire about 80 per cent, is in 
Canada. Throughout the remainder of its territories only about 
700,000 horse-power is as yet developed, or only a little over 1 per 
cent, of the power available, a figure which compares with about 
24 per cent, for the whole of Europe, and 21 per cent, for North 
America, including Canada and the U.S.A. These figures sufficiently 
indicate the relatively large scope for future development. 

Power Available in Great Britain. — With a view of ascertaining the 
resources of our own islands, a Board of Trade Water Power Resources 
Committee was appointed in 1918. This Committee, which has just 
presented its final report, has carried out preliminary surveys of as 
many of the more promising sites as its limited funds allowed, and has 
obtained data from the Board of Agriculture for Scotland, the 
Ordnance Survey Department, the Ministry of Munitions, and 
from civil engineers in private practice, regarding a large number of 
other sites. 

As might be anticipated, Scotland, with its comparatively high rain- 
fall, mountainous area, and natural lochs, possesses relatively greater 
possibihties than the remainder of the United Kingdom, and investi- 
gation has shown that it offers a number of comparatively large schemes. 
Nme of the more immediately promising of those examined by the 
Committee have an average output ranging from 7,000 to 40,000 con- 
tinuous 24-hour horse-power, and an aggregate capacity of 183,000 
horse-power, while in every case the estimated cost of construction is 
such that power could be developed at a cost appreciably less than from 
a coal-fired station built and operated under present-day conditions. 
I'he aggregate output of the Scottish schemes brought before the notice 
of the Committee, some of which, however, are not commercially 
feasible at the moment, is roughly 270,000 continuous horse-power. 

In addition to these there are a very large number of other small 
schemes which have not yet been investigated,^ and it is probably well 

' In a paper read before the Royal Society of Arts on January 25. 1918, Mr. A. 
Newlands, M.I.C.E., gave a list of 122 potential Scottish schemes, the capacity of 
which he estimated, on a very conservative basis, at 375,000 horse-iDower. 


within the mark to say that there are water-power sites in the country 
cajDable of developing the equivalent of 400,000 continuous horse- 
power, or 1,500,000 horse-power over a noi'mal working week, at least 
as cheaply as from a coal-fired installation. 

A number of attractive schemes are also available in North 
Wales, though these are in general more expensive than those 
in Scotland. 

Owing to the general flatness of the gradients, there are, except 
possibly around Dartmoor, no schemes of any large individual magnitude 
in England, but there are a large number of powers ranging from 100 
to 1,000 horse-power which might be developed from river flow uncon- 
trolled by storage. 

Investigations on a few typical watersheds throughout England and 
Wales appear to show that the possible output averages approximately 
eight continuous horse-power per square mile of catchment area, which 
would be equivalent to an aggregate of about 450,000 horse-power. 
Although much of this potential output is not commercially feasible, it 
would give the equivalent of 500,000 horse-power over a normal 
working week if only 30 per cent, of it were fully utilised. 

In the report recently issued by the Irish Sub-Committee of the 
Board of Trade Water Power Committee, it is estimated that approxi- 
mately 500,000 continuous 24-hour horse-power is commercially avail- 
able in Ireland, and that if utilised over a 48-hour working week, its 
capacity would be at least seven times as great as that of the engine 
power at present installed in the country for industrial purposes. 

It appears then that, although the water-power possibilities of the 
United Kingdom are small in comparison with those of some more 
favoured countries, they are by no means so negligible as is commonly 
supposed, even in comparison with the present industrial steam-power 
resources of the country. 

The capacity of the fuel-power plants installed for industrial and 
public-utility services in the United Kingdom in 1907 was approxi- 
mately 9.8 million horse-power. Allowing for an increase of 15 per 
cent, since then, and an average load factor of 35 per cent., this is 
equivalent to 32,000 million horse-power hours per annum, or to a 
continuous 24-hour output of only 3.7 million horse-power. 

According to Sir Dugald Clerk, the average consumption of coal 
per horse-power hour in this country is about 3.9 lb., which, on the 
above basis, would involve a total annual consumption of 55 million 
tons for industrial purposes, not including railways or steamships. 
This figure is in substantial agreement with the estimate of 60 million 
tons made for factory consumption in 1913 by the Coal Conservation 
Committee of the Ministry of Eeconstruction, since this latter figure 
also includes coal used for heating and other manufacturing processes 
in factories. 

Adopting this figure of 32,000 milhon horse-power hours as the 
annual demand for power for industrial purposes, it appears that the 
inland water-power resources of the United Kingdom are capable of 
supplying about 27 per cent, of this, a proportion which, in such an 
industrial country as our own, is somewhat surprisingly large. 

Many of the small powers w'ould be well adapted for linking up, as 


automatic or semi-automatic stations, into a general network of elec- 
tricity supply, or for augmenting the output of municipal supply works, 
as has been done so successfuUy, for example, at Chester, Worcester, 
and Salisbury. 

The development of the many small schemes available in the 
Scottish Highlands would probably have a great effect on the social 
life of the community. It would go far towards reviving and extending 
those small local industries which should form an essential feature of 
tiie ideal rural township. Commercially such undertakings may appear 
to be of small importance, but as a factor in promoting the welfare of 
the State, economical and political, their influence can hardly be over- 

Some of the larger schemes in Scotland would lend themselves 
admirably to transmission to its industrial districts, while others, in 
close vicinity to the sea-board, would appear to be well adapted for 
supplying chemical, or electro-physical, or metallurgical processes. 

There is a probability that at least two of these schemes will be 
developed in the near future. One of these — the Lochaber scheme — is 
capable of developing some 72,000 continuous horse-power, which is 
to be utilised largely in the manufacture of aluminium. It is interest- 
ing to note that when this scheme is completed the British Aluminium 
Corporation will have, with their station at Kinlochleven, an average 
continuous output of over 100,000 horse-power, and a maximum 
capacity of almost 140,000 horse-power. 

The second — the scheme of the 'Grampian Power Company — is in- 
tended ultimately to develop upwards of 40,000 continuous horse-power, 
which it is proposed to use largely for general industrial purposes. 

Should this latter scheme be carried to a successful conclusion it is 
likely to give an impetus to large-scale water-power development in 
Scotland. Its successful operation would certainly lead to the develop- 
ment of others of the same type, which would help to provide a much- 
needed home training-ground for British hydro-electric engineers. 

"While this is admittedly an inopportune moment to suggest any- 
thing in the nature of State co-operation in such developments, it may 
be pointed out that many of the Scottish powers in particular occur in 
sparsely populated districts, and that, although they would ultimately 
become remunerative, the difficulty of raising the capital necessary for 
their development is great. In view of their direct and indirect advan- 
tage to the community it would appear not unreasonable to advocate 
that financial assistance should be granted by the State in the earlier 
stages of such developments. If such assistance, say in the form of a 
loan maturing after a period of ten or fifteen years, could be granted, 
it would certainly give an immediate impetus to the development of 
water power in this country. 

Conservation. — The importance of water-power development from 
the point of view of conservation of natural resources requires no 
emphasis. When the value of coal purely as a chemical asset, or as 
a factor in the manufacture of such materials as iron and steel, cement, 
&c., is considered, its use as a fuel for power purposes, when any other 
equally cheap source of energy is available, would appear, indeed, to be 


The consumption of coal in the best modern steam plant of large 
size, giving continuous output, would be about nine tons per horse- 
power year, and on this basis the world's available water power if utilised 
would be equivalent to some 1,800,000,000 tons of coal per annum. 
The world's output of coal in 1913 was approximately 1,200,000,000 
tons, of which about 500,000,000 tons were used for industrial power 
purposes, so that on this basis 55,000,000 continuous water horse- 
power would be equivalent to the world's industrial energy at that date. 

Not only does the use of water power lead to a direct conservation of 
fuel resources, but it also serves to a notable degree to conserve man 
power. To take an extreme example, each of the 40,000 horse-power 
units now being installed at Niagara Falls will require for operation 
two men per shift. It is estimated that to produce the same power 
from a series of small factory steam plants, over eight hundred men 
would be required to mine, hoist, screen, load, transport by rail, unload, 
and fire under boilers the coal required, while, if account be taken of the 
additional labour involved in horse transport, wear and tear of roads 
and of railroad tracks and rolling stock, the number would be consider- 
ably increased. 

Uses of Hydro-Electric Energy. — While a large proportion of the 
energy developed from water power is utilised for industrial purposes 
and for lighting, power, and traction, an increasing proportion is being 
used for electro-chemical and electro-metallurgical processes. It is 
probable indeed that we are only on the threshold of developments in 
electro-chemistry, and that the future demand for energy for such 
processes will be extremely large. 

In Norway the electro-chemical industry absorbed 770,000 horse- 
power in 1918, or approximately 75 per cent, of the total output, 
as compared with 1,500 horse-power in 1910. Of this some 400,000 
horse-power was utilised in nitrogen fixation alone. 

The production of electric steel in the U.S.A. increased from 
13,700 tons in 1909 to 24,000 tons in 1914, and to 511,000 tons in 1918, 
this latter quantity absorbing 300 million kw. hours, equivalent to 
almost 400,000 continuous horse-power. 

In Canada, in 1918, the pulp and paper industry absorbed 450,000 
horse-power, or 20 per cent, of the total, while the output of central 
electric stations amounted to 70 per cent, of the total. 

The electrification, on a large scale, of trunk line railways is also a 
probability in the not distant future. In the U.S.A. 650 miles of 
the main line of the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. Paul Railway, com- 
prising 850 miles of track, have been electrified, the power for opera- 
tion being obtained from hydro-electric stations. In France much of 
the track of the Compagnie du Midi in the region of the Pyrenees has 
been electrified with the aid of water power; much of the Swiss rail- 
way system has been electrified ; and the electrification of many other 
trunk lines on the European continent is at present under consideration. 

Quite apart from the probable huge demand in the distant future 
for energy for the manufacture of artificial fertilisers by some system 
of nitrogen fixation, agriculture would appear to offer a promising field 
for the use of hydro-electric power. 

Much energy is now being utilised in the U.S.A. for purely 



agricultural purposes. In California, for example, there is in effect one 
vast system of electrical supply extending over a distance of 800 miles 
with 7,200 miles of high-tension transmission lines. This is fed from 
seventy-five hydro-electric stations, inter-connected with forty-seven 
steam plants, to give a total output of 785,000 horse-power. A 
further group of thirteen hydro-electric schemes now under construc- 
tion will add another 520,000 horse-power. A large proportion of this 
power is used in agriculture, and a census in 1915 showed that electric 
motors equivalent to over 190,000 horse-power were installed on 
CaUfornian farms. The Californian rice industry is almost_ wholly 
dependent on irrigation made possible by electric pumping, while most 
of the mechanical processes involved in farming are being performed 
by electric power. 

There can be httle doubt that the economic development ot many 
of our tropical dependencies is bound up in the development of their 
water-power resources. Not only would this enable railroads to be 
operated, irrigation schemes to be developed, and mineral deposits to 
be mined and worked, but it would go far to solve the black labour 
problem, which promises to be one of some difficulty in the near future. 
While those outlets for electrical energy which are now in sight 
promise to absorb all the energy which can be cheaply developed for 
many years to come, there are many other probable directions in which 
cheap energy would find a new and profitable outlet. Among these may 
be mentioned the purification of municipal water supplies; the 
sterilisation of sewage; the dehydration of food products; and the 
preservation of timber. 

Scope for future Water-Power Development.— The figures already 
quoted indicate that the scope for inland water-power development 
throughout the world, and more particularly throughout the British 
Empire, is likely to be large for many years to come, and it is gratifying 
to knovv that British engineers are prepared to play a large part in such 
development work. 

The utilisation of this water power is likely to give rise to some 
economic problems of interest and importance. When indiistrial con- 
ditions have again become stabilised, the competitive ability of the 
various nations will depend largely on economy in the application of 
energy to production and transportation, and the possession of cheap 
water power is likely largely to counterbalance the possession of such 
resources as coal and iron as a measure of the industrial capacity of a 


While it is probably true in industrial communities that the most 
attractive water-power schemes have already received attention, many 
of those available in countries which have hitherto been non-industrial 
are capable of extremely cheap development and will certainly be 
utilised as soon as a market for their output can be assured. 

It is in such countries that the result of these developments is likely 
to be most marked, and will require most carefulconsideration. Thus 
the hydro-electric survey of India now being carried out by the Indian 
Government indicates that very large water-power resources are avail- 
able in the country, and that, although a few large schemes havebeen 
or are being developed, the resources of the country are practically 


untouched. There can be httle doubt that in the course of time a large 
amount of cheap energy will be available in India for use in industrial 
processes, and as the country possesses a large and prolific population 
readily trained to mechanical and industrial processes, along with ample 
supplies of raw material for many such processes, all the conditions 
would appear to be favourable for its entry into the rank of manu- 
facturing and industrial nations. 

Modern Tendencies in Wafer-Power Development. — -The large 
amount of attention which has been concentrated on the various aspects 
of water-power development during the past ten years has been 
responsible for great modifications and improvements in the design, 
arrangement, and construction of the plant. 

Broadly speaking these have been in the direction of increasing the 
size, capacity, reliability, and efficiency of mdividual units ; of im- 
proving the design of the turbine setting and of the head and tail works ; 
of increasing the rotative speed of low head turbines ; of detailed 
modifications in the reaction type of turbine to enable it to operate 
under higher heads than have hitherto been considered feasible ; and 
of increasing the voltage utilised in transmission. 

The capacity of individual units has been increased rapidly during 
recent years, and at the present time units having a maximum 
capacity of 55,000 horse-power under a head of 305 feet are 
being installed in the Queenston-Cheppewa project at Niagara, while 
units of 100,000 horse-power are projected for an extension of the 
same plant. 

These modern high-power turbines are usually of the vertical shaft, 
single runner type, with the weight of the shaft, runner, and generator 
carried from a single thrust bearing of the Michell type. This type 
lends itself to a simple and efficient form of setting, while the friction 
losses in the turbine are extremely low. As a result of careful overall 
design it has been found possible to build units of this type having 
an efficiency of approximately 93 per cent. 

One of the great drawbacks of the low head turbine in the past has 
been its relatively slow speed of rotation, which necessitated either a 
slow speed, and consequently costly generator, or expensive gearing. 
As a result of experiment it has, however, been possible so to modify 
the form of the runner as greatly to incrense the speed of rotation under 
a given head without seriously reducing the efficiency. 

Investigations in this direction are still in progress and promise to 
give rise to important results. At the present time, however, turbines 
are in existence which are capable of working efficiently at speeds at 
least five times as great as would have been thought feasible ten 
years ago. 

The non-provision of a suitable pipe line has. until recent years, 
tended to retard the development of plants for very high heads. Under 
such heads the necessary wall thickness, even with a moderate pipe 
diameter, becomes too great to permit of the use of riveted joints. 
Recent developments in electric welding and oxy-acetylene welding 
have, however, rendered it possible to construct suitable welded pipes, 
and by their aid, and by the use of solid drawn steel pipes in extreme 
cases, it has been found possible to harness some very high falls. The 


highest as yet utiUsed is at the Fully installation in Switzerland. Here 
the, working head is 5,412 feet, corresponding to a woi'king pressure 
of 2,360 lb. sq. in. The pipe Hne is 19.7 in. in diameter and If in. 
tliick at its lower end, and each of the three Pelton wheels in the power 
house develops 3,000 horse-power, with an efficiency of 82 per cent. 

Until comparatively recently the Pelton wheel was looked upon as 
the only practicable turbine for high heads, and the use of the Francis 
turbine was restricted to heads below about 400 feet. This was due 
partly to the fact that a reaction turbine of comparatively small 
dimensions gives a large output under a high head, and except in 
turbines of comparatively large power the water passages become very 
small, and the friction losses in consequence large. 

A further and more important reason for the general choice of the 
Pelton wheel for high heads was tlie fact that in the earlier Francis 
turbines, when operating under heads involving high speeds of water 
flow, corrosion of the runner was very serious. This corrosion is now 
generally attributed to the liberation of air containing nascent oxygen, 
at points where eddy formation causes regions of low pressure. Careful 
design of the vanes has enabled this to be largely prevented in modern 
runners, and in consequence the field of useful application of the Francis 
turbine has been extended until at present turbines of this type are 
operating successfully under a head of 850 feet, and this limit will 
probably be exceeded in the near future. 

The great increase in all constructional costs since 1914 has 
increased the cost of the average hydro-electric plant by something 
of the order of 150 per cent., and since the cost of energy produced by 
such a plant is mainly due to fixed charges on the capital expenditure, 
this cost has gone up in an even greater proportion owing to the higher 
interest charges now demanded. 

It is true that the same increased cost applies within narrow limits 
to the output from every steam plant erected since the War, and the 
relative position of the two types of power plant with coal at about 25s. 
per ton is much the same as before the War. 

The fact remains, however, that a newly constructed hydro-electric 
plant has often to compete in the market with a steam plant built in 
pre-war days whose standing charges are comparatively low, and in 
order to enable it to do so with success the constructional cost must 
often be reduced to a minimum compatible with safe and efficient 
operation. With this in view many modifications in design and con- 
struction have been introduced in recent plants, but there would still 
appear to be ample scope for investigation into the possibility of reducing 
the first cost by modifying many of the details of design and methods 
of construction now in common use. 

Among recent modifications in this direction may be mentioned — 

1. The elimination of the dam in storage schemes in which 
natural lochs or reservoirs are utilised, this water level being 
drawn down in times of drought instead of being raised in 
times of flood. This reduces the cost of construction 
appreciably in favourable circumstances, and eliminates the 
necessity for paying compensation for flooding of the land 
surrounding the reservoir. 


2. The substitution, where feasible, of rockfill dams for those 

of masonry or monolithic concrete. 

3. The introduction of outdoor installations with the minimum 

of power-house construction. 

4. The simplification of the power plant. 

Some progress has already been made in these directions, and it is 
probable that experience based on recent installations and experimental 
investigations will enable considerable further progress to be made. 

Research in Hydro-Electric Problems. — There are few branches of 
engineering in which research is more urgently required and in which 
it might be more directly useful. 

Among the many questions still requiring investigation on the 
civil and mechanical side may be mentioned — 

1. Turbines. — Investigation of turbine corrosion as affected by 

the material and shape of the vanes. 
Effect of erosion due to sand and silt. 

Eesistance to erosion offered by different materials and coatings. 
Bucket design in low head high-speed turbines. 
Draft tube design. 
Investigation of the directions and velocities of flow in modern 

types of high-speed turbines. 
Investigation of the degree of guidance as affected by the number 

of guide and runner vanes. 

2. Conduits and Pressure Tunnels. — The design of large pipe 

lines under low heads with the view of reducing the weight 
of metal. The investigation of anti-corrosive coatings, so 
as to reduce the necessity for additional wall thickness to 
allow for corrosion. 

Methods of strengthening large thin-walled pipes against bend- 
ing and against external pressures. 

Methods of lining open canals and of boring and lining pressure 

Effects of curvature in a canal or tunnel. 

3. Dams. — Most efficient methods of construction and best 

form of section especially for rockfill and earthen dams. 
Best methods of producing water tightness. 

4. Run-off data. — Since the possibility of designing an instal- 

lation to develop the available power efficiently and 
economically depends in many cases essentially on the 
accuracy of the run-off data available, the possession of 
accurate data extending over a long series of years is of great 

While such data may be obtained either from stream gaugings or 
from rainfall and evaporation records, the former method is by far the 
more reliable. For a reasonable degree of accuracy, however, records 
must be available extending over a long period of years, and at the 
present moment such data are available only in very few cases. 

Where accurate rainfall and evaporation records are available, it is 


possible to obtain what is often a sufficiently close approximation to 
the lun off, but even rainfall records are not generally at hand where 
they are most required, and even in a district where such records are 
available, they are usually confined to easily accessible points, and are 
seldom extended to the higher levels of a catchment area where the 
rainfall is greatest. Even throughout the United Kingdom our know- 
ledge of the rainfall at elevations exceeding 500 feet is not satisfactory, 
and little definite is known concerning that at elevations exceeding 
1,000 feet. 

In this country evaporation may account for between 20 and 50 per 
cent, of the annual rainfall, depending on the physical characteristics 
of the site, its exposure, mean temperature, and the type of surface 
covering. In some countries evaporation may account for anything 
up to 100 per cent, of the rainfall. As yet, however, few records are 
available as to the effect of the many variables involved. An investi- 
gation devoted to the question of evaporation from water surfaces, and 
from surfaces covered with bare soil and with various crops, under 
different conditions of wind, exposure, and mean temperature, would 
appear to be urgently needed. If this could be combined with an 
extension of Vermeulle's investigation into the relationship between 
ramfall, evaporation, and run-off on watersheds of a few characteristic 
types, it would do much towards enabling an accurate estimate of the 
water-power possibilities of any given site to be predetermined. 

Even more useful results would follow the initiation of a systematic 
scheme of gauging applied to all streams affording potential power sites. 

Among other questions which are ripe for investigation may be 
mentioned : — 

1. The combined operation of steam and water power plants to 
. give maximum all-round efficiency. 

2. The relative advantages of high voltage D.C. and A.C. 

generation and transmission for short distances. 

3. The operation of automatic and semi-automatic generating 


Tidal Power.— The question of tidal power has received much atten- 
tion during the last few years. In this country it has been considered 
by the Water Power Eesources Committee of the Board of Trade, who 
have issued a special tidal power report dealing more particularly with 
a suggested scheme on the Severn. The outline of a specific scheme 
on the same estuary was published by the Ministry of Transport 
towards the end of 1920. 

In France a special commission has been appointed by the Ministry 
of PubUc Works to consider the development of tidal power, and it 
has been decided to erect a 3,000 kw. experimental plant on the coast 
of Brittany. With the view of encouraging research the Government 
proposes to grant concessions, where required, for the laying down of 
additional installations. 

The tidal rise and fall around our coasts represents an enormous 
amount of energy, as may be exemplified by the fact that the power 
obtainable from the suggested Severn installation alone, for a period 
1921 T. 


of eight hours daily throughout the year, would be of the order of 
450,000 horse-power. 

Many suggestions for utiUsing the tides by the use of current 
motors, float-operated air compressors, and the like have been made, 
but the only practicable means of utihsing tidal energy on any large 
scale would appear to involve the provision of one or more dams, 
impounding the water in tidal basins, and the use of the impounded 
water to drive turbines. 

The energy thus rendered available is, however, intermittent; the 
average woi'king head is low and varies daily within very wide limits, 
while the maximum daily output varies widely as between spring and 
neap tides. 

If some electro-chemical or electro-physical process were available, 
capable of utilising an intermittent energy supply subject to variations 
of this kind, the value of tidal power would be greatly increased. At 
the moment, however, no such process is commercially available, and 
in Older to utilise any isolated tidal scheme for normal industrial 
application it is necessary to provide means for converting the variable 
output into a continuous supply constant throughout the normal 
working period. 

Various schemes have been suggested for obtaining a continuous 
output by the co-ordinated operation of two or more tidal basins 
separated from each other and fi'om the sea by dams with appropriate 
sluice gates. This method, however, can only get over the difficulty 
of equalising the outputs of spring and neap tides if it be arranged that 
the maximum rate of output is that governed by the working head at 
the lowest neap tide, in which case only a small fraction of the available 
energy is utilised. 

When a single tidal basin is used it is necessary to provide some 
storage system to absorb a portion of the energy during the daily and 
fortnightly periods of maximum output, and for this purpose the most 
promising method at the moment appears to involve the use of an 
auxiliary high-level reservoir into which water is pumped when excess 
energy is available, to be used to drive secondary turbines as required. 
It is, however, possible that better methods may be devised. Storage by 
the use of electrically heated boilers has been suggested, and the whole 
field of storage is one which would probably well repay investigation. 

If a sufficiently extensive electrical network were available, linking 
up a number of large steam and inland water-power stations, a tidal - 
power scheme might readily be connected into such a network without 
any storage being necessary, and this would appear to be a possibility 
which should not be overlooked in the case of our own country. 

Investigation necessary. — A tidal-power project on any lai'ge scale 
involves a number of special problems for the satisfactory solution of 
which our present data are inadequate. 

Thus the effect of a barrage on the silting of a large estuary, and 
the exact effect on the level in the estuary and in the tidal basin at 
any given time, can onlv be determined by experiment, either on a small 
installation, or preferably on a model of the large scheme. 

Many of the hydraulic, mechanical, and electrical problems involved 


are comparatively new, and there is little practical experience to serve 
as a basis of their solution. 

Among these may be mentioned : — 

1. The most advantageous cycle of operations as regards working 

periods, mean head, and variations of head. 

2. Tlie methods of control and of sluice-gate operation. 

3. Effect of changes of level due to wind or waves. 

4. The best form of turbine and setting and the most economical 

turbii:ie capacity. 

5. The possibihties of undue corrosion of turbine parts in salt 


6. The best method of operation ; constant or variable speed. 

7. Whether the generators shall be geared or direct driven. 

8. Whether generation shall be by direct or alternating current. 
The questions of interference with navigation and with fisheries; 

of utihsing the dam for rail or road transport across the estuary ; and, 
above all, economic questions connected with the cost of production, 
and the disposal of the output of such an installation, also require the 
most careful consideration before a scheme of any magnitude can be 
embarked upon with assurance of success. 

In view of the magnitude of the interests involved, and of the fact 
that rough preliminary estimates indicate that to-day current even for 
an ordmary industrial load could be supphed from such an installation 
at a price lower than from a steam generating station giving the same 
output with coal at its present price, it would appear desirable that 
these problems should receive adequate investigation at an early date. 

Facilities for Research in Hydraulic and Cognate Problems. — In 
view of the considerations already outhned, and especially in view of 
the large part which British engineering will probably play in future 
water-power developments, the provision on an adequate scale at some 
mstitution in this country of facihties for research on hydrauhc and 
cognate problems connected with the development of water power is 
worthy of serious attention. 

At present the subject is treated in the curriculum of the engineering 
schools of one or two of our universities, but in no case is the laboratory 
equipment reaUy adequate for the purpose in question. 

What is required is a research laboratory with facilities for experi- 
ments on the flow of water on a fairly large scale; for carryin^^ 
out turbine tests on models of sufficient capacity to serve as a basis for 
design; and, if possible, working in conjunction with one or more ol 
the hydro-electric stations already in existence, or to be installed in the 
country, at which certain large-scale work might be carried out. 

The provision of such a laboratory is at the moment under con- 
sideration in the United States, and in view of the rapidity with which 
the designs of hydrauhc prime movers and their accessories are bein^^ 
improved at the moment, it would appear most desirable that the British 
designer, in order that tlie deservedly high status of his products should 
be maintained and enhanced, should at least have access to equal 
facilities, and should, if necessary, be able to submit any outstandincr 
problems to investigation by a specially trained staff. "^ 

L 2 


The extent to which our various heat-engine laboratories have been 
able of recent years to assist in the development of the internal com- 
bustion engine, and to which our experimental tanks have assisted in 
the development of the shipbuilding industry, is well known to most 
of us, and the provision of similar facilities to assist in the development 
of our hydro-electric industry would probably have equally good results 
in this connection. 

As a result of representations made by the Water Power Committee 
of the Board of Trade, I understand that it has now been decided to 
initiate a Chair of Hydro-Electric Engmeering in some one university, 
and it is greatly to be hoped that funds may be available to enable the 
necessary laboratory to be designed and equipped on a scale com- 
mensurate with the importance of the work which it would be required 
to undertake. 

[Note.— Owing to the resignation of Sir J. C. Frazer, F.R.S., 
from the presidency of Section H (Anthropology) shortly before the 
Meeting, no address was delivered in that Section.] 



Sir WALTEEM. FLETCHER, K.B.E., M.D., Sc.D., F.R.S., 


Upon the occasion of our meeting in this metropolitan city of Edin- 
burgh, the seat of an ancient university and a great centre of medical 
study and practice, it has occurred to me that it may be profitable 
for us to consider the part which physiology should rightly take in 
its relation to national life, to learning, and to medicine. Not only 
the place of our meeting, indeed, but some special circumstances of 
the present time seem to make it fitting that we should here review 
the progress, the proper scope, and the prospects of our chosen subject. 
We are now just half a century from the time when physiology first 
came to take its present position in this kingdom as one of the great 
branches of university learning and as a vital part of medical educa- 
tion. We have seen the close of a War which, though it diverted 
and distorted the progress of the science, yet brought it great oppor- 
tunities of service in national life and taught us lessons, here as in 
so many other directions, of which we shall do well to take profit. 
The passing of the War, moreover, has brought a period of change 
and unrest during which impulses towards reform are being chequered 
by the results of fatigue or reaction. Both here and in America it 
may be said that, while physiology has come from the War with 
enlarged outlook and responsibilities, it is exposed to some new and 
perhaps dangerous influences in the present time of rapid resettlement. 
It may well be worth while, then, to look now both forward and back, 
to see the road by which we have hitherto been led and its relations 
to that which now lies before us. 


Physiology, as the passing generation lias known it, took shape 
and established its boundaries in this country just fifty years ago, 
when, shaking off its long subordination to anatomy, it was brought 
to a new life of recognition and progress. The seventeenth centuiy 
had seen England famous for her school of physiologists, leading the 
rest of the Continent in experimental results and in new ideas. Working 
upon the foundations laid by Harvey, that brilliant group at Oxford — 
Boyle, Lower, Mayow, Willis— had brought new light to the study 
of the living body. Nor was their service only recognised by fellow- 
workers abroad or bv those that came after. Their names and fame 
were on fashionable lips ; like that of their predecessor, Harvey himself, 
under Charles J., and of that other Cambridge philosopher, Glissgn, 


their immediate contemporary, their work was aided by the direct 
interest and favour of the sovereign. But, during the eighteenth century 
and the earlier part of the nineteenth, echpse fell upon the light that had 
thus burned so brightly, though isolated gleams shone here and there. 
James Jurin, under George II., applied the Newtonian principles to 
calculating the work done by the heart and to other problems of the 
body, but his efforts to lay true and exact foundations for the study of 
disease were premature in the absence of expei'imental data. Stephen 
Hales, Chaplain to the future George III., made the first measure- 
ments of blood pressure in his garden at Teddington, and made many 
far-reaching observations of the first importance; but, as he wrote, 
there was indeed ' abundant room for many heads and hands to be 
employed in the work, for the wonderful and secret operations of 
Nature are so involved and intricate, so far out of the reach of our 
senses . . . ' ; and it was not then or till much later that many heads 
and hands were ready to be employed. Neither of these men had 
effective influence upon the thought or practical affairs of their day, 
either within the universities or outside them. 

Physiology, as we know it now in this country, took its shape 
in a new revival which may be reckoned as beginning half a century 
ago. All our chief schools may be said to derive their lineage from 
that new home of active and unshackled inquiry — I mean University 
College, in Gower Street, London — and from the influence there of 
an Edinburgh graduate, William Sharpey, who at the age of thirty- 
four was taken from the Edinburgh school to be Professor of Anatomy 
and Physiology. Here, from 1836 until 1874, Sharpey was inspiring 
a group of younger minds with his eager outlook. Already in France 
the new experimental study of the living functions was being established 
by Claude Bernard — that true ' father in our common science, ' as 
Poster later called him; already in Leipzig Ludwig, transmitting the 
impulse of Miiller's earher labours, had founded that school of 
physiology which moulded the development of the subject in Germany 
and other countries, and had very strong early influence upon several 
of those who were later to become leaders with us. England had lost 
the pre-eminence that Stuart kings at all events had valued and pro- 
moted. Learning had become identified in English society with the 
mimetic use ol the dead languages, and progress at the two univer- 
sities — even at the Cambridge of Newton, where mathematics kept 
independence of thought alive — was still impeded by the grip of ecclesias- 
tical tradition and by sectarian privilege. But at University College 
learning had been unfettered. Here Sharpey and his colleagues were 
in touch with the best progress in France and Germany, and here the 
organised study of physiology as a true branch of university study 
may be said to have begun. Its formal separation from anatomy came 
later and irregularly ; a separate Chair of Physiology was not created 
at University College until 1874, nor at Camlaridge or at Oxford until 

We ought in piety to recognise that this tardy reflection of Conti- 
nental progress in our own subject, like parallel movements in other 
siibjects, had in its early stages received invaluable gid frorp tjie Prjncp 


Consort, who, familiar with the progress of other countries, had lent 
his influence and sympathy to many men of science in their struggle 
against the insularity and apathy of the wealthy and governing classes 
of the earlier Victorian days. The curious may take note that the 
first outward mark of recognition given by the official and influential 
world to the existence of physiology as such was given not, as in other 
and poorer countries much earlier, by the endowment of some chair 
or institute for research and teaching, but by an act of symbolic repre- 
sentation. For, when the expensive statuary of the Albert Memoi-ial 
was completed in 1871, it v/as found that 'Physiology,' betokened by 
a female figure with a microscope, had been given its place among the 
primary divisions of learning and investigation acknowledged in that 
monument to the Prince. 

From Sharpey himself and his personal influence we may trace 
directly onwards the development of all the chief British schools of 
physiology whose achievements have in the past half-century restored 
Britain to more than her old pride of place in this form of service to 
mankind. We here fittingly acknowledge first the close link v/ith 
Sharpey which we find to-day in Sir Edward Sharpey Schafer, 
who, after fruitful years in his old teacher's place at University College, 
brought that personal tradition back to this great school of Edinburgh 
from whence it originally came. At University College itself the line 
has been continued with undimmed lustre by Starling and Bayliss and 
their colleagues to the present day. From Sharpey 's school again are 
derived the great branches which have sprung from it, both at Oxford 
and at Cambridge. Burdon Sanderson, Sharpey 's immediate successor 
at University College, proceeded thence to Oxford and founded there, 
against many difficulties of prejudice and custom, the school of physi- 
ology which Gotch, Haldane, and Sherrington have nevertheless main- 
tained so brilliantly in succeeding years. To Cambridge, Michael 
Foster, one of Sharpey's demonstrators, was invited in 1870 by Trinity 
College to be Praelector in Physiology and Fellow of the College. This 
enlightened and then almost unprecedented act, no less than the personal 
qualities of Foster that so aboundingly justified it, I would, as in 
private duty bound, hold here in special remembrance. Under Foster's 
influence there came into being at Cambridge a strong and rapidly 
growing school of physiologists, from Langley, Gaskell, Sherrington, 
Hopkins, to numerous successoi's. There sprang from him, too, a new 
impetus to other subjects, through his pupils Francis Balfour and Adam 
Sedgwick to embryology and zoology, through Vines and Francis Darwin 
to botany, through Eoy to pathology. From Foster again through 
Newell Martin, who, coming with him from London, had caught 
not only inspiration from him but some of his powe'r of inspiring others, 
and who left Cambridge for a Chair at Baltimore in 1876, we may 
derive a large part of the growth and direction of physiology since 
that time in the United States and in Canada. The rapid progress 
of all these biological sciences at Cambridge within a single generation 
and the volume of original work poured forth depended, of course, upon 
two necessary conditions. The first is one which has never failed in 
this country — the existence of men fitted by temperament to advance 


knowledge by experiment. The second has been the supply of living 
necessities through the ancient endowments of the colleges, and these 
in the Cambridge of the last half-century have been freely and increas- 
ingly used in catholic spirit for the increase of any of the borders of 

If these have been the chief lines of descent along which our present 
heritage has come to us, as mind has influenced mind and the light 
has been passed from hand to hand, what has been the outcome as 
we look back over the half-century to those small beginnings ? 

Truly we can say that the workers in this country have in that 
short space of years laid the whole world under a heavy debt. In 
whatever direction we look we seem to see that in nearly all the great 
primary fields of physiological knowledge the root ideas from which 
further growth is now springing are in great part British in origin, 
and based upon the work of British experimenters. If we consider 
the blood circulation we find that our essential ideas of the nature of 
the heart-beat were established by Gaskell, and that other first prin- 
ciples of its dynamics and of its regulation have been laid down by 
successors to him still with us; that the intricate nervous regulation of 
the arterial system has had its chief analyses here, and that here 
have been made more recently the first demonstrations of the part 
played by the minute capillary vessels in the regulation of the distribu- 
tion and composition of the blood. Of the central nervous system 
the modern conceptions of function in terms of the purposive integration 
of diverse impulses along determined paths have sprung direct from 
British work, while the elementary analysis of the structure and 
functions of the sympathetic nervous system has been almost wholly 
British in idea and in detail. As with the nervous regulation of the 
body, so with the chemical regulation of function by travelling sub- 
stances — the so-called ' hormones,' or stimulants from organ to organ — 
this, too, is a British conception enriched by numerous examples drawn 
from experimental work in this country. In the study of nutrition, 
of the primary ' foodstuffs,' proteins, carbohydrates, fats, salts, and 
water, whose names in their supposedly secure sufficiency were written 
with his own hand by Poster upon the blackboard shown in his portrait 
by Mr. John Collier, to typify, as we may imagine, a basal physio- 
logical truth, we have come to learn that these alone are not sufficient 
for growth and life in the absence of minimal amounts of accessory 
unknown and unstable substances, the so-called ' vitamins,' which are 
derived from pre-existent living matter. This conception, undreamt of 
to the end of the nineteenth century, has fundamental value in medicine 
and in agriculture, and has already begun to bear a harvest of practical 
fruit of which the end cannot be seen or the beneficence measured. This 
discovery stands to our national credit, and large parts of its develop- 
ment and application have been due to recent British work. If we 
turn to the regulation of respiration and its close adaptation to body 
needs, that also, as it is now known to the world, is known as British 
labom-s have revealed it, just as the finer analyses of the exchanges 
of gas between the air and the blood and between the blood and the 
body substance have been made with us. The actual modes bv which 


oxygen is used by the tissues of the body, its special relations to 
muscular contraction, the chemical results of that contraction, the 
thermal laws which it obeys— all these fundamental problems of living 
matter have seen the most significant steps to their solution taken 
within the past generation in this country. 

Work of this kind brings permanent enrichment to the intellectual 
life of mankind by giving new and fuller conceptions of the nature of 
the living organism. That we may think is its highest function; but 
it does more than this. Just as all gains in the knowledge of Nature 
bring increase of power, so these discoveries of the past fifty years 
have their place in the fixed foundations upon which alone the science 
and the arts of medicine now or in the future can be securely based. 
The special study of disease, its cure and prevention, has had notable 
triumphs here and elsewhere in the same half-century, and these as 
they come must make as a rule a more spectacular appeal to the 
onlooker. Yet it is the accumulating knowledge of the basal laws of 
life and of the living organism to which alone we can look for the 
sure establishment either of the study of disease or of the applied 
sciences of medicine. As we have seen, there are few indeed among 
the fields of inquiry in the whole range of physiology in which the 
British contributions to the common stock of ascertained knowledge 
or of fertile idea do not take a foremost place. It would be impiety 
not to honour, as it would be stupidity to ignore, these plain facts, 
which, indeed, are now perhaps more commonly admitted abroad than 
recognised at home. There is no occasion here for any spirit of national 
complacency — rather the reverse, indeed. British workers at no time 
earlier than the War have had the menial assistance or other resources 
which their colleagues in other countries have commonly commanded, 
and too often the secondary and relatively easy developments of pioneer 
work done in this country have fallen to well-equipped and well-served 
workers elsewhere. If in the past half-century better support had been 
available from public or private sources, or at the older universities 
from college endowments, it is impossible for any well-informed person 
to doubt that a more extended, if not a more diversified, harvest would 
have been won. 

We stand too near to this remarkable epoch of progress to appraise 
it fairly. In the same span of years Nature has yielded many fresh 
secrets in the physical world under cross-examination by new devices 
which have themselves been lately won by patient waiting upon her. 
So great a revelation of physical truth has been lately made in this 
country, bringing conceptions of space and of matter so swiftly changing 
and extending, that our eyes are easily dimmed to the wonders of 
that other new world being unfolded to us in the exploration of the 
living organism. Only the lapse of time can resolve the true values of 
this or that direction of inquiry, if indeed there be any true calculus 
of ' value ' here at all. We seem to see in the progress of physiology, 
not at few but at manv points, that we stand upon new paths just 
opening before us, which must certainly — as it seems — lead quickly to 
new light, to fuller vision, and to other paths beyond. The advances 
of the next half-centurv to come must far exceed and outshine those 


due to the efforts of the half-century just closing; that is probably 
the personal conviction of us all. Yet we may still believe that through 
all the history of mankind recognition will be given and honour be 
paid to the steps in knowledge which were made first and made securely 
in the period we now review. The men who have done this work 
will not take pride in it for themselves ; they know that their strength 
has not been their own, but that of the beauty which attracted them, 
and of the discipline which they obeyed. They count themselves happy 
to have found their favoured path. Other and more acute minds might 
have usurped their places and found greater happiness for themselves 
if, under a social ordering of another kind, they had been turned to 
the increase of knowledge instead of to the ephemeral, barren, or 
insoluble problems of convention and competition. By how much the 
realised progress towards truth and the power brought by truth might 
have been increased under a changed social organisation we can never 
know, nor can we guess what acceleration the future may bring to 
it if more of the best minds are set free within the State for work 
of this highest kind, what riches may be added to intellectual life, or 
what fuller service may be given to the practical affairs of man and 
to the merciful work of medicine. 


To the story of progress which has just been sketched in outline 
the War brought inevitable interruption and change. To the more 
obvious disturbances and wastage of war I need not here refer, but 
I would point to some influences of that time which will be found, I 
think, to have left permanent effects, and on the whole good effects, 
upon the position and tendencies of physiology. Before 1914 physiology 
was being developed, as we have seen, in its still youthful status as 
one of the primary departments of knowledge; it had become a subject 
of independent university rank. Large and important parts of this 
development had proceeded at one or other of the ancient universities, 
out of touch with great centres of population, and out of touch, there- 
fore, with immediate medical needs. In some degree this was not 
without advantage, and for two main reasons. Detachment from the 
pressure of need allowed the free pursuit of knowledge for its own 
sake and a full surrender to the hintings of Nature, wherever her clues 
might lead the inquirer. Experience amply showed, moreover, that 
when physiology was presented among other university subjects for 
study it gained, first as recruits and later as distinguished workers, 
many able young men who were attracted to it, often from other 
subjects, by the fascinations of its problems, and without regard to 
any of its potential applications to medical or any other practical ends. 
These were great gains which it would be easy, if it were not unneces- 
sary, to illustrate by many convincing examples. Yet there were some 
heavy counterweights on the other side of the balance. The practical 
and urgent needs of humanity as found at the hospitals were not 
brought with full or due effect to the notice of physiologists. Those 
in charge of hospital patients were not selected to advance, or habituaUy 


engaged in advancing, medical knowledge, and new physiological con- 
ceptions as they took shape in our laboratories only slowly and partially 
came to have effect in medical practice and medical study. The 
physiologist, to his own certain loss and to the no less certain loss of 
medicine, held aloof from the bedside, often when access was possible, 
and remained immersed in his laboratory interests. Little pressure, 
indeed, was ever brought to bear upon him by the physician to come 
to his aid. Connected with the evils of this separation was the divorce 
which the accidents of development had set up between physiology 
and pathology, as though the study of the damaged body could be 
separated from the science of the living organism and of its reactions 
to any disturbance from the normal. Yet, while the physician had 
come to tolerate the approach of the pathologist to the bedside, it 
occurred too rarely that he felt the need of the physiologist, or made 
himself familiar with new devices of physiological investigation. 

If from a hospital in time of peace the most obvious call had 
seemed in the past to come from the side of infective disease or morbid 
process for the help of the pathologist, in war the stresses put upon 
the healthy human body made the physiologist and his methods indis- 
pensable. Bacteriological work and studies of immunity had their 
prominent place, of course, in the detection and prevention of infective 
disease, and wonderful were many of the achievements seen under 
this head. But in a sense the more complete the prevention of infective 
disease the more apparent became the physical stresses of war. The 
violences offered in modern warfare to the human body — whether 
through exertion and exposure, by terror or excitement, in physical 
damage by lead or steel or in chemical attacks by poison, and not 
least through the incredible stresses of flying high and fighting in the 
air — all these brought many new and urgent calls for precise physio- 
logical knowledge and for new studies by the physiologist. The results 
of pain and fear, of hsemorrhage, of ' shock ' by wound or operation — 
all these needed further analysis before sound treatment could be 
devised or improved. New studies were needed of changes in blood- 
pressure and blood-volume and in the qualities of the blood itself, new 
inquiries into the finer vessels of blood circulation and their relation 
to the nervous and other systems, and new analyses of the chemical 
mechanisms of the body and of the modes by which want of oxygen 
is met by adaptation or leads to final damage. But the well-nigh 
incredible demands made upon the machinery of man's body in and 
behind the battle-line, in all situations upon the land or under the earth, 
high in the upper air, in the sea or within its depths, by no means 
make up the tale. Our forces were engaged in every climate, from the 
Equator to the Arctic regions, and were faced by innumerable local or 
accidental variations of diet. Here again were required the applications 
of physiological studies of heat loss and of heat production to manifold 
practical problems of clothing and of diet. What would have seemed a 
fanciful fairy tale barely twenty years ago might in particular be told 
of the miracles wrought by the studied application of our new knowledge 
of ' vitamins ' in diet, in saving from painful disease or ^eath many 
thousands of rpen in diverse cjimat-es and fields pf war, 


At home the bodies of the civihan population were exposed to many 
stresses, often hardly less than those of active service. Men and women 
alike were exposed to arduous toil, to dangerous occupation, to poisons 
of many kinds needed for munitions, and in all these dangers the 
guidance of the physiologist was needed for the avoidance of industrial 
fatigue and loss of output and for devising protection against industrial 
poisoning. The whole nation was threatened by the menace of starva- 
tion, and our escape from that, itself one of the governing conditions 
of our ultimate victory, was due to a system of rationing and of the 
management of food materials, animal and vegetable, which was based 
on accurate physiological knowledge, won by experimental methods. 

I touch on these points here briefly and in outline only in order 
to draw attention to the special influence which, as I think, the War 
has exercised upon the position of physiology in this country. The 
physiologists gave no exceptional help to the nation during the War; 
the exponents of every branch of science were needed, were ready, and 
were used, in our national crisis. Hardly one division of science can 
be named the deficiency of which would not have made defeat inevitable. 
It is a truism and a commonplace to say that no bravery and no fortitude 
could have avoided defeat without the help of scientific men and of 
the fruits of experimental science, though that commonplace has not, 
I think, ever yet been enshrined in the addresses or thanks of Parlia- 
ment or in the prayers and thanksgivings of our churches. But we 
may recognise, perhaps, that the nation as a whole, and those especially 
who have the government, public or private, of large groups of men 
in their hands, have learned that obedience to physiological law is a 
first necessity for the maintenance of the body machinery in health 
and for its effective and harmonious use. They have come to know, 
moreover, that the men who alone can guide them to this obedience 
are those who have learned in the school of investigation from Nature 
herself. The nation has seen a Minister fall whose control of the 
people's food was not based upon physiological law, and his successor, 
whose adoption of the teaching of physiological experiment was early 
and faithful, gain renown. Nor was this by any means an isolated object- 
lesson. There is no doubt, surely, that physiologists have a new 
vista before them of immense public usefulness, if they will hold them- 
selves in readiness to give the same kind of service to the country in 
the stress of her industrial life during peace as they gave so freely 
and to such effect in time of war. 

But if the War brought these lessons to the general public, what 
lessons have come from it to the physiologist himself? I would only 
recall briefly here the considerations which were brought home 
with sufficient clearness to us all, I think, during and after the closing 
stages of the struggle. The War, in the first place, displayed hefore 
us new and gigantic fields of physiological study. Viewing these so 
far as we can, even at this distance, dispassionately, we see 
how the stresses and accidents of warfare in all their variety offered 
to our study a series of experiments made Tipon the human 
body, and on a gigantic scale. Only by disciplined study of 
the results at all stages of these trials qf war in qll their varying 



degrees of honor and distress could effective aid be given in palliation 

of suffering or its avoidance. It was inevitable that study of this 
kind and upon so great a scale should result — as, happily, it did result — 
in much permanent gain to physiological knowledge and to the bene- 
ficent power that all sound knowledge brings. New insight was given 
into the functional patteins of the nervous system and into the orderly 
liierarchies, so to speak, under which this or that function is brought 
into subordination to another of superior rank, and new knowledge 
was gained of the phenomena of separation and repair in the outlying 
nerve-trunks. Accurate information was collected of the nutritional 
needs, quantitative or qualitative, of human beings under varying con- 
ditions ; and. in particular, many special conditions of warfare brought 
to the test, established the fundamental usefulness, and stimulated 
the growth of that newest chapter in physiology already mentioned— 
that deahng with the elusive but potent accessory factors in nutrition — 
the vitamins. These examples must suffice where scores of others 
familiar to all of you might be given. 

In the second place, the experience of the War has had wholesome 
effect from its tendency to remove the barriers that here and there 
had grown up between physiologists and the practical needs of medicine. 
Physiologists had valued, and justly valued, their academic freedom 
of inquiry within the universities, and, indeed, we know that practical 
utility could not be better served in the long run than by the detached 
pursuit of knowledge for its own sake. But, partly for reasons of 
hospital and professional organisation already touched upon, and partly 
because, to its obvious and immense gain, physiology had attracted 
from other paths men who were not, and had never become, medical 
men, there were some capital parts of the subject of which the chief 
explorers had never used the medical field of work or brought to 
medicine the weapons they had, perhaps unwittingly, at command. 
We can recognise already that this partial divorce has been changed 
by the War into a union likely to be increasingly fertile. Of the 
professoiial chairs of medicine or directorships of medical units 
established since the War, for the advance of medical knowledge within 
hospitals in accordance with the university standards and ideals 
acknowledged in other subjects of study, it is remarkable that to the 
greater number of these there have already been appointed men whose 
training has been in the methods of the physiological laboratory, and 
who applied that training to urgent medical problems of the War. 
There is hardly any one of our schools of physiology, moreover, to 
which some piece of living experience has not been brought in these 
last years to enforce the old lesson of the value to science itself of 
bringing natural knowledge to its fullest utilitarian applications. The 
practical fruits of scientific labour are found, if our hands are put out 
to gather them, to contain within themselves, like the natural fruits 
of the earth, the very seeds from which new knowledge and new fertility 
will spring. Many of our leaders in physiology brought to the problems 
of war the accumulated knowledge of their lives, as patriotism and 
humanity dissolved at a touch the hedges of custom and use. I know 
of not one such who did not find in the application of his vision and 


training to the actual problems before him, first, a wholesome reminder 
of the limits of his knowledge and its clarity, and, second, new clues 
towards its' advance, and that by no means only in a familiar or an 
expected direction. The stimulus of practical need here, as so often 
in experience, advanced the growth of knowledge beyond the point 
of immediate application to practice. Those who studied to find the 
best and most practical means of saving life threatened by severe 
haemorrhage, or by the shock of wounds or operation, found in the 
course of meeting the immediate emergencies almost endless promptings 
to further inquiries, to be followed then or later — inquiries into the 
physical, chemical, or biological qualities of the blood, into its relations 
to the vessel walls, and into the functional changes of the capillary 
blood system and the factors affecting or controlling them. Those 
who fixed their attention upon the damage wrought in the respiratory 
organs by poison gases were led to many new studies of the funda- 
mental physiology of the lungs. The lymphatic system of drainage 
of the lungs was re-examined, and wide new experimental studies of 
the modes of regulation of the breathing were undertaken which have 
thrown new and valuable light upon the normal mechanisms of respira- 
tion. An inquiry into the poisonous action of the high-explosive tri- 
nitrotoluene, and into the possibility that slightly abnormal forms of 
this substance, found as a small contamination of the normal form, 
might be specially toxic, led to a clear negative answer. But it led 
unexpectedly, it is both curious and useful to note, to the discovery 
that one of these abnormal forms was an effective reagent in the 
laboratory. By its means the chemical structure of a constituent of 
muscle substance known as carnosin was for the first time determined, 
and carnosin has now been synthesised artificially from simple materials. 
In sum, then, we may gratefully recognise that the War in its 
horror and waste has not brought evil without any admixture at all 
of good. We may be encouraged at least to hope that the active co- 
operation which the War established and fostered in diverse ways 
between the physiologist and the medical or surgical clinician may 
remain to bring lasting good, on the one side to the cause of learning 
and its advance, and on the other to medical education and to medical 


If we have thus looked backward to the development of physiology 
in the past half-century, and to the influence upon its course which 
the War has brought about, I would invite you to look forward to the 
future and to review the aims of physiology and the boundaries to 
which it should properly extend in its relations to other subjects of 

Foster, early in his work at Cambridge, spoke of physiology as 
being the study of the differences between the living body and the 
dead body. The progress of this study, as it has been carried on during 
the past generation, may be considered from two directly opposite 
points of view. Viewed in one way, we may think of this progress as 
being a progress in analysis, as a disentanglement of the diverse though 
not separable functions of the body and of each of its parts. Viewed 

I.— PHYS]X>LOGY. 135 

again, we may see it as a steady progress towards synthesis, towards 
the unification of all the contributory functions of the parts into a 
single functional organism. 

The analysis of the separate functions of each part of the body was 
an inevitable mental process as the anatomist revealed more and more 
accurately the visible machinery of the body. Bichat at the beginning 
of the nineteenth century had taught that the activities of the body 
must be the sum of the activities of the organs. The announcement 
of the universal cellular structui'e of the organs made by Schwann 
seemed but to carry this analysis one step further, and to show that 
in the sum of the activities of the constituent cells could be found 
the adequate expression of the functions of the whole body. The rapid 
improvement of the microscope in the latter half of last century, 
combined with the new resources of the aniline dyes by which trans- 
parent structures could be differentiated and made visible, greatly 
stimulated the analytic study of the body. As the various glandular 
structures were made visible and even, as it almost seemed, the inner 
life of the gland cell was revealed, as muscle fibres in their different 
kinds were made plain and the harder elements of the body resolved 
into the architectures due to different kinds of constructive cell, so it 
seemed to many that in a little time we should have the quest resolved 
in an appeal to a congeries of physico-chemical events within the 
individual cells. Even the mysteries of the central nervous system 
seemed to be dissolving as the new powers of histology, coupled with 
refined methods of experiment, showed the intricate pattern of com- 
municating fibre and cell and gave provisional descriptive explanations 
of many isolated nervous phenomena. Meanwhile, the chemical 
structure, no less than the material form, of the body was being explored, 
and here, too, progress followed the path of analysis, ever more refined 
and complete. Just as old notions of ' humours ' of the body had been 
resolved into varieties of cell activity, so the vague chemical ideas 
conveyed in the words ' protoplasm ' or ' metabolism ' received precision 
by expression in terms of colloidal systems or of associated enzymes 
or catalysts in appropriate positions, effecting chemical changes of 
recognisable type among substances of relative simplicity. 

Along these lines of analysis rapid progress has been made, but 
it is to be observed that it has been in great part along diverging lines. 
The tendency has been centrifugal, or, to use a biological simile, the 
growth of physiology has led to a fissiparous habit. Pursuit of know- 
ledge by particular technical methods has led to specialism ; men have 
reached points far distant along branches of inquiry that at first grew 
together from the stem. The very development of new technical 
methods may by itself lead unavoidably to separatism, for the micro- 
scope and test-tube may best be used in rooms widely different in 
equipment and often far separated in space. So have grown up new- 
named sciences within a science, and the histologist or cytologist, the 
neurologist, the pharmacologist, the biochemist — each carrying off, so 
to speak, his part of the subject — may be found to be incurring the 
dangers or even paying the penalties of schism. 

Step by step, however, with this progress in analysis, a continual 


advance towards synthesis has accompanied it as new truths have been 
unfolded to the investigator. Here, as in other fields, the conception 
that the whole is the same as the sum of its parts is either meaningless, 
or, if it have any meaning, is untrue. Fresh reinforcements have 
steadily come to the idea that the animal body is not to be rightly con- 
sidered as a patchwork of the activities of its parts, but that the organism 
itself as a whole is the true physiological unit. In tliis conception the 
functions of the organs and of their own cellular subdivisions can only 
find due expression in relation to each other and to the functions of 
the whole. Just in proportion as analysis has proceeded with ever 
greater refinement to trace in terms of physics or chemistry the nature 
of given organic or cellular phenomena, the analysis itself is found to 
be pointing to new relationships between part and part of which the 
meaning is bound up in the unity of the organism. 

Of this continued absorption of analytic data into synthetic concep- 
tion, this interweaving of increasingly manifest diversities into an 
increasingly emergent unity, illustration can be found in many direc- 
tions. The name ' hormone ' has been given to chemical products of 
particular organs which pass by way of the blood to stimulate another 
organ or other organs of the body to changes in activity. This mode 
of chemical regulation by messenger, so to speak, is superadded to the 
more rapid method of regulation by nervous impulse through the 
nervous system : and already many beautiful examples of delicate 
interplay and co-ordination have been discovered between the two kinds 
of regulation. In its earlier phases the knowledge of these messengers 
gave us a picture of relatively simple, though wonderfully adjusted, acts 
of chemical regulation. As analysis of the hormonic exchanges of other 
glands and tissues of the body has proceeded, however, a system of 
interplay and reciprocal function of increasing complexity has been 
revealed by later studies. Our knowledge of this is still young and 
quite rudimentary, but at every fi-esh step in this advance it becomes 
more evident that the multiplying facts can only be resumed by a con- 
ception of the whole organism as a unit of which the parts exist to 
preserve the integrity and ' normality. ' 

In the study of the nervous system, again, new methods of obser- 
vation and analysis have given us during the past half-century immense 
additions to our knowledge of the intricate fabrics of the brain and 
spinal cord and of the functions of the various systems of fibres and 
cells. The content of our knowledge of these must be tenfold that 
which was known fifty years ago. Here again, as investigation has 
gone forward, and as analysis has proceeded by methods so special and 
so refined that neurologists work, as it were, in a field of their own, it 
has proceeded only to reveal ever more and more clearly what Sherring- 
ton, one of the chief pioneers in this analysis, has himself called the 
' integrative ' action of the nervous system. The fabric of nerve cell 
and fibre, whether we trace its history from the lower to the higher 
animals, or whether we trace its complexity in the individual, is 
revealed to us as a series of superimposed controlling systems whose 
structural relations find intelligible expression only in terms of func- 
tions, and of functions of the animal as a whole. 


Is the same return to synthetic conceptions to be found as a result 
of analyses of the biochemist? His work has brought much simplifi- 
cation to our notions of the chemistry of the body. We have learned 
that in the exchanges witliin the living cell we are not necessarily, or 
indeed probably, dealing with molecules of a complexity unknown 
outside the living body ; we do not now think as formerly of substances 
being worked up through successive stages of elaboration into a living 
molecule — a molecule of ' protoplasm ' of mystical complexity — or of 
other substances reappearing as the result of incessant degradation of 
parts of the living molecule. Analysis has shown already that many 
characteristic cell-changes turn upon relatively simple reactions of a 
kind familiar in chemistry between known and relatively simple sub- 
stances. How much further will this analysis proceed? No doubt 
many of the typical functions of particular kinds of cell will become 
expressible in a set of chemical formulae, and every simplification 
attained by the biochemist in terms of known chemical or physical law 
will be a notable gain. Yet even now we can feel assured that the 
analyses of the biochemist bring with them new emphasis upon the 
essential unity of the whole organism. Let me give but one illustra- 
tion of this. In the studies of immunity from disease it had long been 
known that substances which to a chemist would appear to be identical 
could be sharply distinguished in the most decisive way by biological 
reactions. Tiny fragments of a small blood-clot can be made thus to 
declare whether they come from a man or from what other animal, 
when no chemist would have dreamed of finding a distinction. Dudley 
and Woodman have lately been able, however, to bring biochemistry 
within the range of this biological delicacy of discrimination, and have 
shown a subtle difference in the chemical architectures of the caseins 
derived respectively from the milk of a cow and of a sheep. More 
recently the two modes of analysis have been brought side by side. 
Similar cells in similar organs of the two not widely dissimilar birds, 
the hen and the duck, secrete layers of egg-albumin during the com- 
pletion of that wonderful structure, the egg. From the ' white ' of each 
egg can be prepared apparently identical albumins, and in a pure 
crystalline form. This albumin is built up in each case from simple 
materials — amino-acids — derived from the food, and we should naturally 
expect a close similarity between the two kinds of resulting albumin, 
that in the hen's egg and that in the duck's. The most refined methods 
of ordinary chemical examination show us, indeed, that the two are 
chemically identical and indistinguishable, containing on analysis the 
same amounts of the same varieties of amino-acids. But Dakin hns 
lately succeeded in tracing a difference between the two albumins, 
exhibited only as partial differences in the order or pattern in which 
some of the constituent amino-acids are linked together in the structure 
of the albumin molecule. By using a physiological test, Dale, at the 
same time, has been able to show a decisive and even dramatic differ- 
ence between the qualities of the two albumins so near to chemical 
identity. By using the ' anaphylactic ' reaction of the organic tissue 
from an animal ' sensitised ' against hen albumin, he has found that a 
suitable application of hen egg-albumin will produce a decisive response, 
1921 M 


while an exactly similar dose of duck egg-albumin will produce no effect 
whatever; and so vice versa. Here, then, is some authentic stamp 
of unknown kind imposed uniformly upon the parts of the organism 
of a given species, even upon the molecules of the albuminous coating 
of its egg. We are brought sharply back from the relative simplicities 
of chemical analysis to consider this supra-chemical impress of specific 
pattern, a phenomenon which can have no meaning that is not drawn 
from a conception of the organism as a whole. 

It would be impossible here, and quite unnecessary for the present 
purpose, to do more than refer finally to the beautiful researches of 
recent years upon the modes of regulation of breathing, upon the gas 
exchanges of the blood, and upon the associated activities of other 
organs, and especially of the kidney, which have brought such ample 
support and illustration to the doctrine first clearly taught by Claude 
Bernard, namely, that the different mechanisms of the body, various 
as they are, have their single object in ' preserving constant the condi- 
tions of life in the internal environment.' These regulative functions 
in particular have been fully discussed by Dr. Haldane in a recent 
notable essay, and he has shown how, as their chemical analysis has 
proceeded and observations have been collected by physiological 
niethods, themselves of a delicacy often far exceding present 
physical and chemical methods, it has become more and more necessary 
to express the facts in terms of an organic unity. ' The physical and 
chemical picture is entirely obliterated by the picture of organism.' 
These considerations are full of interest, of course, in their relation to 
the rival mechanistic and vitalistic theories that have been advanced 
for the explanation of living processes. Here, however, I refer to this 
synthetic tendency of modern physiology because of its practical bearing 
upon the present development of the subject in the universities and 
the medical schools. As the preliminary analyses of the functions have 
been, as we have seen, centrifugal and fissiparous in their tendencies, 
so the accompanying and inevitable synthesis, resuming analytical data 
within the notion of organism, has been centripetal and conjugative. 
It is this bond of organic unity which must sooner or later serve to bring 
together the scattered workers in different fields of analysis. It is this 
conception of the organism, moreover, which must maintain physiology 
as a great primary branch of study — the study of the living organism. 

If physiology remains as a free subject of university study, we need 
not have serious fear that the fissiparous, centrifugal tendencies 
already noticed will be dangerous or crippling. Ludwig organised his 
physiology teaching at Leipzig in 1846 under the three main divisions 
of histology, experimental work, and physiological chemistry. In the 
English revival that we have earlier sketched, this grouping, largely 
under the influence of Foster, was maintained not only at Cambridge, 
but at other centres here and in America. As years have passed, how- 
ever, there has been an increasing tendency here to follow what is 
commonly done in other countries, and to place histology with anatomy. 
In my personal view, physiology cannot proceed without perpetual use 
of the microscope, and yet anatomy must be dead without histology. I 
should hope to see histology the well-worn bridge of union between the 


two subjects, just as, I think, we should look to cytology and the study 
of cell development to offer active points of growing union between 
physiology and the sciences of animal and plant morphology. These and 
other questions of detailed organisation will, I hope, be explored fully 
in the discussion for which we are hoping to-day. With time also 
has come a great development of biochemistry, and this, if only from 
the structural necessities of its laboratory technique, is tending more 
and more to set up house for itself. This, too, is to be a matter for 
fuller discussion presently. We may perhaps hope to see in bio- 
chemistry as it grows not only a common meeting-ground and an un- 
failing source of new inspiration for physiologists and pathologists 
alike, but also a pathway by which organic chemistry may be led towards 
the study of living matter. Few organic chemists in this country, 
though more in America, have been led by that path till now, and yet 
we must believe that biochemistry has perhaps even more to give to 
organic chemistry, as we now know it, than it has to gain. A study of 
organic compounds in a spirit of detachment from the living processes 
which gave them birth must surely lead often to mere virtuosity in the 
laboratory transformations of chemical structure, and I venture very 
timidly to think that many signs point to the near approach of a time 
when organic chemistry will feel the need of fresh inspiration coming 
from the intricate laboratory of the living cell. In a university the 
separation of laboratories, which must be guided solely by convenience, 
as convenience is dictated by necessary differences in equipment and 
technique, may be easily transcended by the tree communication of 
workers in different branches. Intellectual association and close co- 
operation, and especially within a university, seem inevitable, as we have 
seen, because of the converging approach of diverse workers in common 
reference to the conception of organic unity. Tliere can be no 
boundaries to physiology narrower than the limits of the study of the 
whole organism and the balanced regulation of its living parts. 

I would venture here, however, to point to some dangers by which 
the sound development of physiology seems to be threatened, that 
spring from its necessarily close association with medical education, 
dangers eminent in the present stage of rapid growth in medical studies 
both here and, even more obviously, in America. Historically, 
physiology may be said to have been born of medicine, but it has 
sanctions and streng-th quite independent of the great services it has 
rendered and has still to render to the material good of mankind through 
medicine, and, in a less, though in no insignificant degree, to agricul- 
ture. We may recall that chemistry, too, was almost equally born of 
medicine; medicine, at least, was the fostei'-mother and long the nurse 
of chemistry. Lyon Playfair, in his inaugural address of 1858, in this 
very place, said, nevertheless, that ' chemistry in her period of youth, 
full of bloom and promise, was forced into a premature and ill-assorted 
union with medicine. ' We can now look back and see that chemistry, 
in becoming free of medicine, and in becoming a great independent 
branch of learning, has, by the fruits of that freedom, repaid to medicine 
a thousandfold her early debts of the nursery. So, too, the history of 
the last half-century, in which physiology has become an independent 

M 3 


subject of university study, sliows how this freedom has multiplied the 
gifts which physiology has had it in her power to return to her ancient 
mother. There can be no dissolving of the ties between one and the 
other, but we must see to it that these ties are well adjusted and that 
there shall be no ' ill-assorted union ' between the tv^'o. 

In the rapid growth of medical schools throughout the English- 
speaking world there are present signs that the essential part which 
physiology plays in medical education and study may wrongly 
masquerade as the only service physiology has to give to man, and may 
appear to fill the measure of her rightful status. In more than one of 
the great American universities physiology is treated either in theory or 
in practice as a subject within the Medical Faculty to be housed within 
the Medical School, yet at the same time not as a subject in the Faculty of 
Arts or of Science, nor to be studied alone or with other sciences as 
part of a liberal and non-professional education. It is rare in the 
United States for physiology to be studied by any but professed medical 
students, and there is some reason to think that it is becoming rarer 
in Great Britain than it was a few years ago. 

To my mind this tendency is to be deplored. It implies a reversal 
of that growth of physiology in freedom which began half a century 
ago and from which such good fruit has already been gathered. It has 
two chief evils among its inevitable results. Eemoved from its position 
among other university subjects by geographical separation that in 
some universities amounts to transportation and exile, it is deprived of 
the kinship and co-operation of the sciences touching its own boun- 
daries — those of zoology, embryology, and botany, of agriculture, of 
psychology, of physics and chemistry. Assigned, if not limited, to a 
place in the medical curriculum, it is apt to be narrowed in its claims 
and outlook, and to lose not only its proper neighbours, but even parts 
of itself, whittled away in the organisation of a purely medical pro- 
gramme in the guise of pharmacology, neurology, toxicology, and the 
like, for which special funds may be available, separate places in the 
time-table reserved, and independent departments provided. But a 
second evil strikes more deeply. Any arrangements that give in effect 
a restriction of physiological studies to medical students alone must be 
doubly injurious. It is injurious to the general course of education, 
because it tends to cut away from the other university students the 
opportunity of possessing themselves, either as a primary or secondary 
study, of the knowledge and discipline of physiology which has edu- 
cative value in the highest degree for the cultural or the practical sides of 
living. And here, secondarily, we may notice the loss to an apphed 
study only less in importance to that of medicine ; I mean the science 
and practice of agriculture. It is injurious, again, to physiology itself, 
because we know well from reiterated experience how many promising 
recruits for the future advancement of the subject have been brought to 
it, often, as it were, by chance, in the course of their university life, 
attracted to it whether from classical studies or mathematical, or from 
other branches of natural science. A notable number of the chief 
leaders in the science of the past and present generation have so been 
attracted, without any previous thought of medical studies as such 


whether these have been added later or not; of these, not a few whose 
names are well known to us have never become, in the technical sense, 
students of medicine at all. They may have lost by this, but should 
we willingly have lost them? 

I hope that what I have earlier said with regard to the great service 
that physiology has both to give to medicine and to receive from it will 
acquit me of any charge of desiring less, rather than much more, in- 
timacy and intercourse between them, t believe that no bettor service 
can be done for the good of both than to increase their mutual offices 
and the ties between them. But we must see that, in uniting physi- 
ology to medicine, we do not uproot it from that soil in which alone it 
can abundantly flourish and bear fruit, the environment of a university 
with all that that connotes. If there be any serious doubt of the reality 
of the dangers I have indicated, I would point to the dearth of men 
fitted to promote and teach the subject among those coming from the 
schools in which physiology is regarded as a medical study and no more, 
and is not given its full university status. In the United States at 
present there is a grave and admitted dearth of suitable candidates for 
chairs of physiology, in spite of the remarkable work which has been 
done there in recent years and the fine material equipment in general 
available. I venture to offer my conviction that the prime cause of this 
shortage is the absence of the great recruiting possibilities of university 
life and the undue limitation of physiology to medical students. Men 
coming to physiology as a ' preliminar}' subject ' and nothing more are 
not likely to think of it as their life-work, but will pass through it 
not to return. 

Let me, in conclusion, point again to the highest of the tasks which 
physiology, like every other science, has to perform. Its highest and 
indeed its primary task is to enlarge the vision of man and to enrich 
his knowledge of truth. The secondary tasks of physiology, in finding 
power through truth, power to diminish pain and to restore health, and 
to guide to right nnd prosperous living, are happily so beneficent in 
kind, and already in some degree so fruitfully discharged, that it is not 
easy, or indeed common, to keep in mind that great and primary aim. 
Right thinking in this respect is the only constant guide to right action 
in all the practical questions which confront us now in our discussion 
of the position and the future of this science. ' Man does not live by 
bread alone ' : and we shall find — we have already abundantly found 
in experience — that it is only through the seeking of wisdom first that 
power to increase the comfort and convenience of life is most fully to 
be won. Tlie practical services of inquiry have been easy for all to 
see. Men have come readily to think of physiology as the handmaid of 
medicine and as nothing more. Of late years we who follow the study 
of living things have not had interpreters to make plain to men at large 
the interest and beauty of the additions to revealed truth which have 
been coming from the work of the investigator. There are very few 
I among the onlookers who have seen, or who can bring others to see, 
those clearer visions of the consummate beauty which are being revealed 
in the study of the body, visions as remote from the actual figments 


daily painted for us by our sense organs as are the newest visions of 
the physical world, yet appealing as strongly to the intellectual and 
aesthetic emotions. Few hold the quest for natural knowledge in right 
relation to other activities of the mind; few see it not merely and not 
in chief as a useful pursuit of power, but in its essence as a pursuit 
of truth. 

That knowledge of natural truth and of the changing pattern of our 
ideas of the natural world should be an unusual or quite subordinate part 
of a cultural equipment, in this and in recent generations, may be due 
to lack of interpreters, but it is due also to convention and educational 
habit, and these, perhaps, combine in special degree to shut out from 
the world of general culture the revelations of intricate beauty in the 
living body of man. Ancient and mistaken theological conceptions 
filtering through the Victorian age have tended to degrade the dignity 
and marvel of the body. Generations that have been nurtured upon 
narrowed classical studies have so far forgotten the spirit of Greece 
as to ignore the universal beauty of truth ; it has been thought vulgar 
not to know the verbal details of an old mythology, but hardly respect- 
able not to be ignorant of the elementary laws of life and of the unseen 
beauties of the body unfolded in modern study. So have many sub- 
mitted to be enchained in ignorance and superstition as to vital matters 
of reality, victims of every passing charlatan. Out of this loss of 
instruction in the beauties and wonders of living substance, as they 
are becoming known, must come great loss of possible happiness, and 
indeed there comes, too, a loss of dignity, for we may fitly apply the 
rebuke of Robert Boyle, much more deserved now than in his darker 
century, who held it to be ' highly dishonourable for a Reasonable Soul 
to live in so Divinely built a Mansion, as the Body she resides in, 
altogether unacquainted with the exquisite Structure of it.' 

Meanwhile the workers will proceed in their quest for further truth, 
caring little if, for the time being, other eyes are blind to its beauty. 
They will still be lured by it as all eager minds have been lured before ; 
some will confess the attraction of a call for help in human need and 
suffering, some will claim austerely that they follow only the bidding 
of a curiosity of mind, and some perhaps may work for fame. But, 
whetlier they know it or not, the effective lure that Nature holds out 
to those of her followers who have it within them to respond to it, and 
so to reach new knowledge, is a quickening hint of further beauty to be 
unfolded in further truth. Whether they know it or not, they might 
make the same Confession as that of St. Augustine: ' And I replied 
unto all those things which encompass the door of my flesh, " Ye have 
told me of my God, that ye are not He: tell me something of Him." 
And they cried, all with a great voice, " He made us." My questioning 
them was my mind's desire, and their Beauty was their answer.' 



0. liLOYD MORGAN, LL.D., D.Sc, F.R.S., 


Psychology has now been given full sectional status, taking effect at 
this meeting of the British Association. I trust that we shall justify 
the confidence reposed in us by our fellow -workers in other branches 
of science. I need hardly add that I deem it no mean honour to be 
chosen as your President on tliis occasion. 

The subject of my address bristles with difficulties. I may at once 
state that my primary aim is to consider in what way mind and con- 
sciousness may be regarded as natural products of that all-embracing 
process which I propose to name ' emergent evolution, ' and thus come 
within the purview of science as I understand its aim and methods. 

Emergent Evolution. 

What do I mean by emergent evolution? Shall we start from the 
platform of that which we call common-sense as tempered by the 
refinement of scientific thought? By general consent we live in a world 
in which there seems to be an orderly passage of events. That orderly 
passage of events, in so far as something new comes on to the scene 
of nature, is what I here mean by evolution. If nothing really new 
emerges — if there be only permutations of what was pre-existent (per- 
mutations predictable in advance by some Ijaplacian calculator) — then, 
so far, there is no evolution, though there may be progress through 
survival and spread on the one hand and elimination on the other. 
Under nature is to be included the plan, expressive of natural law, on 
which all events (including mental events) run their course. 

From the point of view of a philosophy based on science our aim 
is to interpret the natural plan of evolution, and this is to be loyally 
accepted just as we find it. The most resolute modern attempt to 
interpret evolution from this point of view is that of Professor S. Alex- 
ander in his ' Space, Time, and Deity.' He starts from the world of 
common sense and science as it seems to be given for thought to 
interpret. In order to get at the very foundation of nature he bids 
us think out of it all that can possibly be excluded short of the utter 
annihilation of events. That gives us a world of ultimate or basal 
events in purely spatial and temporal relations. This he calls ' space- 
time,' inseparably hyphened throughout Nature. From this is evolved 
matter, with its primai-y and, at a later stage of development, its 
secondary qualities. Here new relations, other than those which are 
only spatio-temporal, supei-vene. Later in logical and historical 
sequence comes life, a new quality of certain systems of matter in 


motion, involving or expressing new relations thus far not in being. 
Tlien within this organic matrix, already ' qualitied ' (as he says) by 
Ufe, there arises the quality of consciousness, the highest that we know. 
What may lie beyond this in Mr. Alexander's scheme may be learnt 
from his book. 

This thumb-nail sketch can do slight justice to a theme worked out 
in elaborate detail on a large canvas. The treatment purports to formu- 
late the whole natural plan of progressive evolution. From the bosom 
of space-time emerge the inorganic, the organic, the conscious, and, 
perchance, something beyond. And with this successive emergence of 
new qualities goes the progressive emergence of new orders and modes 
of relatedness. The plan of evolution shows successively higher and 
richer developments. 

Such a doctrine, pliilopophical in range but scientific in spirit — to 
which, I may perhaps be allowed to say, I, too, have been led by a rather 
different route — I call emergent evolution. 

The concept of emergence is dealt with by J. S. Mill, in his 'Logic,' 
under the consideration of ' heteropathic laws.' The word ' emergent,' 
as contrasted with 'resultant,' was suggested by G. H. Lewes in his 
' Problems of Life and Mind.' "When oxygen, having certain properties, 
combines with hydrogen having other properties, there is formed water, 
some of the properties of which are quite different. The weight of the 
compound is an additive resultant, and can be calculated before the 
event. Sundry other properties are constitutive emergents, which 
could not be predicted in advance of any existent example of combina- 
tion. Of course, when we have learnt what happens in ' this ' par- 
ticular instance under ' these ' circumstances, we can predict what will 
happen in ' that ' like instance under similar circumstances. We have 
learnt something of the natural plan of evolution. We may also predict 
on the basis of analogy as we learn to grasp more adequately the 
natural order or plan of events. But could we predict what will happen 
prior to any given instance — i.e. prior to the development of this stage 
of the evolutionary plan? Could we predict life from the plane of 
the inorganic, or consciousness from the plane of life? In accordance 
with the piinciples of emergent evolution we could not do so. The 
Laplacian calculator is here out of court. 

This is not the place to adduce the many facts at the inorganic stage 
of evolution, which, as I think, exemplify emergence (in this technical 
sense) with its hall-mark of something new, and its saltatory form of 
continuity — saltatory because there is often an apparent jump from one 
relatively stable product to another; continuous because there is no 
unfilled hiatus in the course of events. It is exemphfied, as I think, 
in the modern stoiy of the so-called chemical elements, in the very 
structure of the Mendeleeff table, in the systems of crystallography, 
and so on. In organic evolution it is recognised (though not under this 
name) by some biologists in the acceptance of mutations, in the out- 
come of much Mendelian research, and in the clue it affords to the 
origin of variations. 

More to our present purpose, however, is its explicit recognition by 
Wundt in his advocacy of ' a principle of creative resultants ' (Lewes 


would have said ' emergents '), which ' attempts to state the fact that 
in all psychical combinations the product is not a mere sum of the 
separate elements that compose such combinations, but that it repre- 
sents a new creation.' Clearly there is here emergence. But Wundt 
accepted the philosophy of what may be distinguished as ' creative evo- 
lution ' — that which Professor Bergson in different form so brilliantly 
advocates. Wherein lies the difference? For M. Bergson the philo- 
sophical question is : What makes emergents emerge ? Eightly or 
wrongly, I do not regard this question as one with which science, as 
such, is concerned; and in some passages at any rate this is the opinion 
of M. Bergson himself. Philosophy, he says, ought to follow and 
supplement science, ' in order to superpose on scientific truth a know- 
ledge of another kind, which may be called metaphysical.' Be that 
as it may, his answer to the question : What makes emergents 
emerge? is Mind or Spirit as Vital Impulsion. (I use capital letters 
for concepts of this order.) Whereas, then, for Mr. Alexander 
mind as consciousness is an empirical quality emergent in nature 
at an assignable stage of evolution, for M. Bergson Mind, as Spirit, is 
the metempirical Source (I adopt Lewes's adjective) through the Agency 
of which emergent evolution has empirical being. For the one con- 
sciousness is a product of emergent evolution ; for the other emergent 
evolution is the product of Spiritual Activity, which is sometimes spoken 
of as Consciousness. The methods of approach, the treatment, and 
the conclusions reached, are different. Although my present concern is 
with the former, this must not be taken to imply a denial of Spiritual 
Activity. Its discussion, however, belongs to a different universe of 

In Mind. 

To come to closer quaiiers with our sectional topic, what do we 
mean when we say that this or that is ' in mind ' ? In a well-known 
passage Berkeley distinguished that which is in mind ' by way of 
attribute ' from that which is in mind ' by way of idea. ' Fully realising 
that this should be read in the light of Berkeley's adherence to the 
Creative concept, one may none the less claim for it validity on the 
empirical plane where mind is regarded as a product of emergent evolu- 
tion. The former, therefore (i e. what is present in mind by way of 
attribute), I shall speak of as minding, the latter as that which is minded. 
The former is a character constitutive of the mind — that in virtue of 
which it is a mind ; the latter as objective to the mind or for the mind. 
That which is minded always implies minding; but it does not neces- 
sarily fellow that minding implies something minded. 

Let me name a few of the many cases in our own life where not only 
does the minded imply minding fwhich always holds good), but where 
minding implies something definitely minded (which often holds good). 
Perceiving implies something perceived ; remembering, something re- 
membered; imaging, something imaged; thinking, something thought 
of; believing, something believed; and so on through a long list. In 
each case what I may call, in general, the -ing has, as its correlative, 
a more or less definite -ed. Whether correl!ative to unconscious 


minding, there is something more or less definite which is unconsciously 
minded, it is very difficult to say. But if I do not misinterpret current 
opinion it is commonly held that sometliing minded is often present to, 
or for, the unconscious mind. I shall say somewhat more on this 
head later on. 

The distinction based on that drawn by Berkeley may be expressed 
in another way. One may be said to be conscious in perceiving, re- 
membering, and, at large, minding; that which is perceived, remem- 
bered, or minded is what one is conscious of. I am conscious in 
attending to the rhythm or the thought of a poem; I am conscious of 
that to which I so attend. I need not then be conscious of attending to 
the poem, though perhaps I may, in psychological mood, subsequently 
make the preceding process of attention an object of thought. I am 
well aware that Professor Strong has urged that, in its original use, 
the expression ' conscious of ' was applied only with reference to mental 
process as such. One need not discuss this point. It must suffice to 
make clear the usage I accept. 

Even in our own life there are cases in which one's consciousness 
in some experience — e.g. feeling fit or depressed — does not seem to 
have, correlative to it, anything definite of which one is conscious. It 
may, of course, be said that what one is here conscious of is some 
bodily condition, or some more abstract concept of welfare or the re- 
verse. But, without denying that it may come to be so interpreted in 
reflective thought, it is questionable whether the dog or the little child 
knows enough about ' the body ' or of ' welfare ' to justify us in regard- 
ing these as objectively minded. There can be little question, however, 
that the dog or the child (and we, too, in naive unreflective mood) may 
be conscious in such current episodes of daily life. Whether, therefoi-e, 
there be something definitely minded or not, the emphasis is on minding 
(in a broad and comprehensive sense) as an inalienable attribute of that 
kind of being which we name 'mental.' 

Mr. Alexander emphasises the distinction between what I have called 
the -iyig and the -ed in the most drastic manner. He speaks of all that 
is in any way objective to minding as non-mental. I cannot follow his 
lead in this matter, because I need the word in what is for me (jbut 
not for him) a different sense. But what does he mean ? It is pretty 
obvious that while seeing is a mental process in which I am conscious, 
the lamp that I see is not a mental process, but an object of which I 
am conscious. If, however, I picture the Corcovado beyond the waters 
of Rio Bay, is that mental ? The picturing of a remembered scene is a 
mental process ; but that which is thus pictured is not mental in the 
same sense. It is just as much re-presented for the remembering as 
the lamp is presented as an object for the seeing. And suppose I try 
to think of the four-dimensional space-time framework conceived by 
Minkowski ; the thinking is unquestionably mental, but the framework - 
thought of is not mental in the same sense. What is not mental in 
that sense Mr. Alexander calls ' non-mental. ' I speak of that which 
is not mental in this sense as ' objective. ' 

A wider issue is here involved. Are we to include ' in mind ' pro- 
cesses of minding only, or also that which is objectively given a& 



minded? Is the science of psychology concerned only with mental 
processes of the -ing order ; or is it concerned also with all manner of 
objective -eds7 One must choose. So long as we are careful to dis- 
tinguish the -ed from the -ing it is better, I think, to include both. 

Dependence and Correlation. 

On these terms what is minded is no less mental than the process 
of minding. But I suggest that the word ' consciousness ' should be 
reserved for that vi^hich Berkeley spoke of as ' in mind by way of 
attribute,' or, in Mr. Alexander's way of putting it, as ' a quality ' of 
that organism which is conscious in minding. Anyhow, consciousness 
is here in the world. Creative Evolution says : Yes, here in the world, 
but not of the world. It acts (as elan vital) into or through the 
organism regarded as a physical system; but its Source is a disparate 
order of Being to which, in and for itself, and an sich, it properly 
belongs. It depends on the physical organism in act but not in Being. 
Now this, I urge, is a metempirical explanation of given facts, but not 
an empirical interpretation of them as (in my view) science tries to 
interpret. And its cause should be tried before a different court of 
appeal from that of science. Hence under emergent evolution one uses 
the word ' dependence ' in another sense, and urges that the very being 
of consciousness, as a quality of the organism, depends upon (or implies 
the presence of) the quality of life as prior in the natural order of emer- 
gence. If we enumerate successive stages, then consciousness is a 
quality (4) of certain things (very complex and highly organised things) 
in this world. In these same things there is also present the quality 
of life (3), and a specially differentiated chemical constitution (2). 
Empirically we never find (4) without (3), nor (3) without (2) ; and we 
express this by saying that consciousness depends on (or implies the 
presence of) life ; and that life depends on a. specialised kind of chemical 
constitution. It is an irreversible order of dependence. But there are 
things, such as plants, in which we find (as is commonly held) life 
without consciousness; and other things, such as minerals, in which 
there is chemical constitution (not, of course ' the same ' chemical con- 
stitution) without life. Furthermore, there seems to have been a time 
when consciousness had not yet been evolved; and an earlier time at 
which life had no existence. But this or that chemical constitution 
is itself an emergent quality (2) of certain things ; and there was probably 
a yet earlier stage of evolution at which even this quality had not yet 
emerged — a purely physical stage (1) at which (let us say) electrons 
afforded the ultimate terms in relation within physical events, con- 
tinuously changing under electromagnetic (and, of course, also under 
spatio-temporal) relations. That is as far as I, with my limited powers 
of speculative vision, can probe. Mr. Alexander, with perhaps more 
piercing insight, goes further. For him such entities as electrons are 
themselves emergent from the yet more fundamental matrix of space- 
time. For him the ultimate terms are point-instants (pure motions). 
I cannot here discuss his fascinating but rather elusive treatment. As 
at present advised I can find no satisfactory foothold without electrons, 
or something of the sort, as joints d'appui. 


Be that as it may, there is clearly nothing in the foregoing thesis 
which necessarily precludes the further consideration of the same events 
from the point of view of Creative Evolution. The questions : "What 
makes emergents emerge? What directs the whole com'se of emergent 
evolution ? — these questions and their like are there quite in place. 
Furthermore, as between emergent thesis and Creative antithesis, Kant's 
' Solution of the Third Antinomy ' may afford a guiding clue. 

If one selects, as above, certain salient phases of evolutionaiy pro- 
gress, and lays stress upon them, one must remember that within the 
span of each phase there are other emergent sub-phases, some of them, 
no doubt, worthy of selective emphasis. Nay more, it must be realised 
that one is only attempting to classify the myriad instances of emergence 
in an ascendmg hierarchy. In all phases, in all sub-phases, and in all 
the myriad instances, there is continuity of advance, in that (a) there 
is never any unfilled gap or hiatus in the course of events, and in that 
(b) any instance, sub-phase, or phase, arises out of, is founded on, 
and implies, that which lies just below it in the scale. 

Here, however, an important question arises. The selected sequence 
of qualities is — 

(4) Conscious. 
(3) Vital. 
(2) Chemical. 
(1) Physical. 
Are the four terms of this sequential order homogeneous? If so, the 
quality of consciousness in (4) is homogeneous with the purely physical 
quality under (1). But this is not in accordance with a cardinal tenet 
very widely accepted — namely, that the physical and the mental cannot 
be regarded as homogeneous. They are, it is urged, essentially hetero- 
geneous. On the assumption (which I feel bound to accept) that this 
traditional view is right, how does emergent evolution deal with the 
problem? It further assumes (or accepts as an hypothesis to be tried 
out on its merits) that there obtains a correlation of diverse (and in that 
sense heterogeneous) aspects. The word ' congelation ' is here used to 
designate a mode of natural ' gotogetherness ' which is sui generis ; and 
the word ' aspects ' (for lack of a better) to designate the fundamental 
difference between the mental or psychical and the non-mental or 
physical — a difference that must be accepted as something given in 
nature. On this hypothesis, then, how do our emergent phases now 

Let me recall that each of our four emergent stages gives emphasis 
to a salient phase of emergence, and that within each phase there are 
sub-phases also emergent through the supervenience of something really 
new. "Within the vital quality, for example, there are ascending sub- 
qualities. It is for the phvsiologist to deal with these. There are, too, 
in any given organism different lines of advance closely inter-related 
within the life-system of that organism as a whole. "We must select, 
then, that line of advance which serves to enable us to interpret 
psychical advance in terms of correlation. Here we may be content, 
so far as the physiological aspect is concerned, to label, say, three sub- 
phases (a), (b), and (c); where (c) represents such integration as is 


established iu the cortex of the brain in correlation with reflective con- 
duct ; (b) such intermediate level of integration as is acquired in the course 
of individual life ; and (a) such integration as is prior to (6) and (c) and 
on which they depend. I seek only to give a provisional schema. Now, 
I assume that correlated with (a) there is an affective form of psychical 
existence which is not yet consciousness as I shall presently define it; 
that correlated with (b) is consciousness of tlie order of such perceptual 
cognition as we impute to many animals ; and that coiTelated with (c) is 
reflective consciousness or judgment which implies conceptual thought, 
and is often spoken of as self-consciousness. We may label these (thus 
provisionally distinguished) (a), (/3), and (y). They stand, I believe, 
in an order of dependence. We never find (y) without (/?) and (a) ; 
nor ever (/?) without (a). The presence of reflective consciousness 
implies perceptive cognition ; and the presence of perceptive cognition 
implies that of affective enjoyment. We do, however, seemingly find 
organisms with {/3) and (a) but without (y); and (as I think) lowly 
forms to which one can impute (a) without (/3). Our tabular statement 
may therefore take some such provisional form as this, which may at 
least serve to indicate my method of approach. 

(i) Vital ' (?) • (■>') Reflective judgment | non^ciousness ^iv^ 
(i) vital , ^jj _ ^^^ Perceptive cognition ) '-'OJisciousness (iv) 

(3) Vital (a) . (a) Affective enjoyment ' The unconscious ' (iii) 
(2) Chemical ? ? (ii) 

(1) Physical ? ? (i) 

On the left-hand side of the table we have ' outer aspect ' ; on the 
right ' inner aspect. ' The ' inner aspect ' (if such there be) under 
(ii) and (i) is left with a query. Panpsychic speculation is here and 
now beyond our horizon. 

What I may call the homogeneous precursor of the quality of con- 
sciousness (iv) is ' unconscious enjoyment ' (iii) which, notwithstanding 
its negative prefix, must be regarded as a positive character. The 
heiprogeneous precursor of (iv, y) is (4 b). Heterogeneous treatment 
involves passing over from one ' aspect ' to the other — e.g. interpreting 
perceptive consciousness in terms of brain-physiology, or psychical 
habit in terms of synaptic resistance. I do not mean to suggest that 
heterogeneous treatment is without value. Far from it. I do wish to 
suggest that we shall do well to realise that it is heterogeneous. 

The Quality of Consciousness. 

Before proceeding further certain preliminary questions must be 
briefly considered. First, is there progressively emergent evolution in 
consciousness? It is one of cardinal importance. My contention is 
that such evolution obtains in both aspects, inner and outer, the one in 
correlation with the other. This means that interpretation under 
emergent evolution is applicable to mental no less than to non-mental 
events. In other words, there is just as much progressive emergence 
in the inner or psychical aspect of organic nature as there is in the outni' 


or physiological aspect. This is the keynote of mental evolution 
throughout its whole range. 

I regret here to depart from the conclusion to which Mr. Alexander 
has been led. Take such episodes in our mental life as seeing a rain- 
bow, hearing a musical chord, partaking of woodcock, dipping one's 
hands into cool water. In Mr. Alexander's interpretation (as 1 under- 
stand it) percipient consciousness, in each case, differs only in what he 
speaks of as ' direction.' That alone is enjoyed. All further difference 
in one's cognitive experience on these several occasions is due to the 
difference in that non-mental set of events with which one is then and 
there compresent. Even feeling, as affective, is not itself enjoyed. 
Feelings are objective experiences of the order of organic ' sensa. ' They 
are not in mind by way of attribute. "We are conscious of pleasure and 
pain but are not differentially conscious in receiving them. Conscious- 
ness is here just compresent with certain phases of life-process. Thus, 
for Mr. Alexander, consciousness, alike in sensory acquaintance, in 
perceptive cognition, and even in feeling pleasure or the reverse, is itself 
undifferentiated (save in ' direction ') ; all the differentiation is in the 
non-mental world (beyond us or within our bodies) which is experienced 
and which transmits its characters to a recipient in which the rather 
featureless quality of consciousness has emerged. No doubt for Mr. 
Alexander the recipient is not merely passive ; for there is mental pro- 
cess — not Agency, though he so often uses the word ' act.' But this 
mental process just actively takes what is given; and all the difference 
still lies in that which is given and not in the enjoyment of how it is 

But it is only when Mr. Alexander is interpreting consciousness at 
the perceptive level that he advocates this doctrine. When he deals 
with values or 'tertiary qualities,' such as beauty, his treatment is 
quite different. Consciousness hitherto featureless gives to certain 
objects of judgment their characteristic features. How, then, does the 
interpretation here run ? ' In our ordinary experience of colour, ' he 
says, ' the colour is separate from the mind, and completely independent 
of it. In our experience of the colour's beauty there is indissoluble 
union with the mind.' The contention comes to this. Colour resides 
in the thing seen, with which the organism having the quality of con- 
sciousness may or may not be compresent. Whether it is so com- 
present or not makes no difference to the non-mental existence of the 
colour as such. On the other hand, beauty resides, not in the thing 
only and independently, but in ' the whole situation,' which we may 
bracket thus [coloured thing in relation to compresent organism with 
quality of consciousness] . ' In that relation the object has a character 
which it would not have except for that relation.' The doctrine of 
' internal relations ' is accepted where beauty is concerned, and rejected 
in respect of colour. In other words, if the beautiful thing be one 
term and the conscious organism, the other term, each gets its character 
{qua beautiful but not qua coloured) from its relation to the other. 
[ should say that this holds good for the colour of the object, no less 
than for its beauty. My chief concern, however, is not with what 
Mr. Alexander rejects but with that which he accepts. 


He holds (1) that the beauty of an object ' is a character superadded 
to it from its relation to the mind in virtue of which it satisfies, or 
pleases after a certain fashion, or sesthetically.' Now this being 
pleased or satisfied is referable (within the situation) to the organism 
which has the quality of consciousness, i.e. in brief to the mind. So 
far at least it seems to be a differentiated feature in consciousness no 
longer merely recipient. Mr. Alexander tells us (2) that, within the 
relational situation, 'the beauty is attributed to the object.' He says 
that ' it is the paradox of beauty that its expressiveness belongs to 
[I should say is referred to] the beautiful thing itself, and yet would 
not be there except for the mind. ' He accepts (3) ' value ' as that 
which satisfies a need; and he would (I think) not reject the view 
that it is primarily a felt need for behaving or acting (socially he would 
add) in some manner in regard to, or with reference to, the object to 
which value is attributed. He accepts also (4), as precursors of true 
values, what he calls ' instinctive values,' which I should speak of as the 
utilities of organic behaviour (e.g. under Darwinian treatment). We thus 
have (i) a specific mode of being conscious ; (ii) reference of this differen- 
tiated feature in consciousness to the object; and (iii) a recognition of 
the pragmatic value of tertiary characters as determined by social con- 
duct. I urge that, mutatis mutandis, the same treatment apjplies to the 
secondary characters ; and that such treatment does away with Mr. 
Alexander's rather drastic difference of interpretation on the perceptive 
and on the reflective plane. In the case of secondary characters, no 
less than in that of values, we have (i) specific modes of being conscious, 
(ii) reference of this differentiating feature in consciousness to the object, 
(iii) as founded on the utility of behaviour thereto. Finally, we have 
Mr. Alexander's general conclusion. ' Thus value,' he says, 'in the 
form of the tertiary qualities emerges not with consciousness or mind 
as such, which the animals also possess, but with reflective conscious- 
ness or judgment.' 

This conclusion seems to indicate that just as the quality of con- 
sciousness marks a phase of emergent evolution, with something 
genuinely new supervenient to the quality of life, so too within this phase 
there are ascending sub-phases of emergence. In reflective consciousness 
(the iv, y of my table) there is, in ' value,' something genuinely new, 
supervenient on the perceptive consciousness (iv, /3) which affords its 
evolutionary precursor. In other words, just as consciousness has its 
status in the hierarchy of salient qualities, so too within consciousness 
there are reflective and perceptive sub-qualities. 

It is, I think, clear that the question I have here raised is of im- 
portance suiScient to justify the space I have devoted to it. It comes 
to this : Are there differentiating features {'qiialia ' they may be called) 
in consciousness as such? Do they, under conscious reference to 
objects, make these mental objects other than they would be if relation 
to consciousness were absent? If so, is this outcome of conscious 
reference restricted to the ' tertiary characters,' or is it also applicable 
to the ' secondary characters ' ? My belief is that it has to be reckoned 
with throughout the whole range of mental evolution. 


The Place of Consciousness^ 

A second pi-eliminary question is this : Where does consciousness 
dwell and have its being? From the point of view of emergent evolution 
I take it that the answer is : Consciousness is correlated with certain 
physiological and physical events which have place in the organism — 
and there only. 

One has to deal with the relations which obtain in nature at their 
appropriate levels of emergence; and I hold that the proper level 
of spatial (and temporal) relations is that of physical events. But 
since all higher emergent strata depend on this stratum, and would not 
be present in its absence, space-time relations are implied throughout 
the whole series. In further illustration of what I mean, the proper 
level of energy-relations is sub-vital. Vital events, in a system which 
is not only physico-chemical but has also the quality of life, no doubt 
depend on energy-changes at the physico-chemical level. But there 
is no specific ' vital energy ' (still less ' psychic energy ') in the same 
sense of the word ' energy.' The word is then used with a different 

Our present concern, however, is with ' the place of consciousness ' 
under some meaning to be attached to this expression. There is so 
much ambiguity in the question ' Where is it? ' and in the answer 
' It is there,' that a little must be said thereon. 

Suppose that one is dealing with things in one's room. Each 
thing is interpretable as a group of events with physical substratum. 
May we say, then, that any such given event (spatially related, of 
course, to other such events) has place in the group or system of events 
which is the thing? I take it that in one valid sense 'it is there.' 
In this sense a multitude of events — chemical, vital, unconscious, and 
conscious — have place which is dependent on that of the physical events 
in the organism. In this sense they are included in that system of 
events which we call the organism. But the organism is included in 
a larger spatial system. Shall we, for our present purpose, which is 
rather biological and psychological than physical, call -this larger whole 
the situation? Now, suppose that my dog leaves the mat, on which 
he has been lying, to bask in a patch of sunshine near the window. He 
alters his place in the room as situation; but the physical, chemical, 
and other events retain their place in him. Whither he goes, thither 
also go all these events. In one sense they are still there — wherever 
he may be. In another sense their place has changed. They were, a 
few minutes ago, on the mat; now, they are near the window. 

And if we ask: Where does the dog behave? I take it that the 
natural answer is : In the environing situation. But the question may 
be taken to mean : Where do his muscles function ? Then the natural 
answer would be : In his body wherever it may go under their functional 
action. Let us next ask : Where does the dog perceive? In one sense 
he perceives in the situation, which includes the thing seen and the 
dog that sees it. But in another sense the perception is in him. That 
is where the process of perceiving (or more strictly the physical events 
correlated therewith) may be said to occur and to have place. 


We should distinguish, then, a ' there of place,' witiiin the inclusive 
situation, and a ' there of place ' within the thing included in that situa- 
tion. But when the dog rose from the mat and walked to the window, 
the influence of the sunlit patch which took effect on his eyes was the 
basis (founded on prior behavioui') of reference to place near the window. 
That is where he saw it; it is towards that spot that his procedure 
was directed. Now, on this occasion, reference to place within the 
situation, and behaviour in reaching that place, were happily consonant. 
There was nothing of the nature of illusion. But when one of his 
predecessors in my household barked at his mirror-image, the place of 
reference for behaviour' was not consonant with what sophisticated 
human folk call the ' real place ' of that tiring towards which he behaved. 
The conditions v/ere abnormal ; and ' place of reference ' did, not coincide 
with ' real place. ' So, too, if you see a pike below the surface in a 
still pool, and try to shoot him with a saloon rifle, you will probably 
miss him (unless you have learnt the trick) because the place of refer- 
ence for behaviour in aiming is not the place where he happens to be. 
Coincidence of place of reference with ' real, ' or acknowledged, place 
can only be established through the outcome of behaviour, crude at first, 
intellectually guided at last. If this behaviour works, well and good 
in the realm of practice; but it may work admirably, and yet not stand 
the test of validity in the realm of interpretation which includes the 
problem of cognition. In any case we have to distinguish (c) the ' there 
of reference ' from the ' there of place ' (a) in the situation and (b) in 
the thing. The ' where ' to which the colour of the ruby, and to which 
its beauty also, is referred, is unquestionably 'there ' in the gem; the 
conditions for colour-perception are undoubtedly ' there ' in the cognitive 
situation as a whole ; but the chemical changes due to electro-magnetic 
influence are ' there ' in the retino-cerebral system of the organism. 
And it is in correlation with these changes which run their course 
within the organism that the quality of consciousness is emergent. 

Does it follow from what has been said that ' the place of conscious- 
ness ' is in some differentiated part of the organism — say in the cortex 
of the brain? Again the question is ambiguous. In what sense has it 
place there? Certain focal events in what one may call the intra- 
organic situation have place there; and in that sense conscious enjoy- 
ment is the correlate o-f physiological changes that may there be 
localised. It is dependent on these changes, and in their absence would 
not be present or in being. But it is no less dependent on all that takes 
place in the intra-organic situation. Hence in the wider sense nothing 
less than the whole organism as a going concern is the seat of the 
enjoyment which is correlated with its total working as a vitally 
integrated system. 

Consciousness as Objective. 

It will now, I hope, be sufficiently clear that when I say that con- 
sciousness dwells and has its being in the organism, and there only, 
my meaning is that any given instance of the class of events we call 
conscious (in a comprehensive sense of the word) is oon'elated with 
Certain vital and physical events which have place in that organism. 
1921 „ 


There is, however, a very different bat still quite empirical view. It 
may be said that consciousness as such embraces all the objects to 
which there is conscious reference. In other words, on this view it 
pervades the whole situation. That is ' where it is.' Let us consider 
what is here meant. It rests on the interpretation of consciousness as 
a mode of connection under which objects in the whole situation are 
the terms related inter se. Hence Professor Woodbridge urges that 
objects are ' in consciousness ' in the same sense as things are ' in 
space' or events are 'in time.' Just as the expression 'in space ' or 
' in time ' conveniently condenses the longer and more cumbrous ex- 
pression ' in that kind of inter-relatedness of things which is called 
spatial or temporal ' ; so too does ' in consciousness ' condense the fuller 
expression ' in that kind of inter-relatedness of objects which we call 
conscious.' And just as there is a spatio-temporal continuum within 
which things have place; so too, according to Mr. Woodbridge, 'con- 
sciousness may be defined as a kind of continuum of objects.' We 
should, therefore, he says, deal with the relations of the objects in con- 
sciousness to one another ' in the same way as that in which we deal 
with the relations of things in space to one another.' It is, I think, 
clear that consciousness, on this view, is coextensive with what is some- 
times called ' the field of consciousness ' — that of which one is con- 
scious in reference thereto. In other words, consciousness is nowise 
limited to the organism, but is a special kind of relatedness which 
pervades the whole conscious situation. In my phraseology following 
Berkeley, the field of consciousness is ' in mind by way of idea ' but 
not ' in consciousness by way of attribute. ' But we are here considering 
a different usage under a different terminology. 

Professor Holt, whose avenue of approach, like that of Mr. Wood- 
bridge, is primarily logical, and new-realistic, develops an interesting 
doctrine of ' neutral entities.' I cannot here parenthetically discuss 
this doctrine with its stress on the objective reality of universals indepen- 
dently of consciousness. We may, I think, for our present purpose, 
take his view to be that what we commonly call the environment of an 
organism is aw fond constituted by those universalised neutral entities 
we name objects, and that it is these neutral objects which call forth 
in the organism its specific responses or its more highly organised 
behaviour. But not all the environment calls forth such response or 
behaviour. That part which does so on any given occasion is what Mr. 
Holt calls a 'cross-section.' It is, so to speak, the business part of 
the total environment — that part which counts for behaviour — and it is 
through behaviour that it is selected from the rest of the environment. 
Now this neutral cross-section, defined by responsive behaviour, ' co- 
incides exactly with the list of objects of which we say that we are 
conscious.' Mr. Holt therefore, on the basis of this coincidence, feels 
himself free to call the environmental cross-section the ' psychic cross- 
section,' or 'consciousness' or 'mind,' within which the individual 
members are 'sensations,' 'perceptions," 'ideas,' &c. It is clear, 
therefore, that for Mr. Holt, as for Mr. Woodbridge, consciousness is, 
or includes, all that part of the environment to which there is conscious 
reference; that it 'is extended both in space and time . . . being 


actually such parts of the object as are perceived '; and that the cross- 
section we are said to perceive is coincident with that towards which 
we behave. 

Obviously we have in Mr. Holt's doctrine one form of a behaviour- 
istic interpretation of consciousness. This opens up an issue which 
cannot here be discussed. One can, however, brietly indicate what 
seems to be the essential question at issue. Let us provisionally grant 
that organic behaviour towards what we call an object is ' coincident ' 
with conscious reference to that object; nay more, let us gi'ant that in 
the absence of prior behaviour to it there would never be evolved such 
conscious reference to it. Even granting this, does it follow that this 
conscious reference is not only ' coincident with ' behaviour but is 
nothing more than that behaviour? In accordance with the principles 
of emergent evolution it does not follow, and it is not so; the one is 
a function of the organism's life, dependent on, but emergently more 
than, its physico-chemical constitution, while the other is a function of 
that organism's consciousness, dependent on, but emergently more 
than, that organism's hfe. And just as life is a quality of the organism 
that behaves and is centred therein, so too is consciousness a quality 
(higher in order of emergence) of the organism which is conscious in 
perceiving and in behaving. 

Modes of being Conscious. 

We may revert, then, to the view that the quality of consciousness 
has place in the organism (or more strictly is correlated with physical 
and physiological events which have place there), but that conscious 
reference, hke organic behaviour on the plane of life, is effluent from 
that organism which receives physical influence. 

My position under genetic treatment is this : (a) Physical processes 
of many and varied kinds are, on occasion, influent on the organism 
which has receptors attuned to them; (b) very complex chano-es,. 
physico-chemical and physiological, are called forth in that organism;. 
and (c) it responds in organic behaviour, coming thus into new fields 
of physical influence. Thus, under hght-radiation, influence from that 
which, in the language of our highly developed adult reference, we call 
a ladybird, affects the retinal receptors of the chick a few hours old; 
organised changes in his tissues result therefrom ; he pecks at the lady- 
bird, and tango- or chemo-receptors are thus physically influenced. So 
far the interpretation is biological and behaviouristic only. But, 
rightly or wrongly, I impute to the chick affective enjoyment on which 
some measure of conscious cognition is founded. That is neither 
physico-chemical nor physiological, though it is correlated with both. 
It is mental. It is the psychical or inner aspect of processes which 
have also their outer aspect with which the bio-chemist and the physio- 
logist deal. But it just as truly belongs to that organism as does its 
life, or its chemical constitution. 

We want now to come to closer quarters with this inner or psychical 
aspect correlated with the whole range of hfe-processes (a), (b), and (c). 
What is it? Perhaps all that one can say in reply to this question is 
that what it feels like that it is. But one can enumerate different ways. 

N 2 


in which we enjoy this inner aspect — in which we are conscious in the 
most comprehensive sense of the word. Thus when one is seeing, 
hearing, tasting; when one is running, cUmbing, swimming; when 
one is imaging in reverie or in dream; when one is ix'ritable, worried, 
or anxious; joyous or sad, in discomfort or at ease, fit and well, sick 
or sorry; when one is thinking or trying to recollect, following an 
argument, or solving a problem; accepting some statement in an atti- 
tude of belief, rejecting it, or poised in a state of doubt; when one 
chuckles over a joke, or winces under a bad pun; when one vibrates 
to music or shudders at the braying of a street band ; nay even when, 
thereafter, ' silence like a poultice comes to heal the blows of sound ' ; 
in all these cases, and in a thousand others, we have instances of what 
it is to be conscious in the most comprehensive sense. 

It will of course quite rightly and pertinently be asked : Who or 
what is thus conscious, now in this way and now in another? The 
empirical reply to this question (that to be given under emergent evolu- 
tion) is : The integrated system of all the fluent conscious events that 
are thus integrated within that system. That is just what the mind 
is — an integrated system of consciously inter-related terms intrinsic to 
tlie organism and correlated with its hfe. No doubt a further question 
lies behind : What is it that gives to such a system the integration that 
it has ? It is here that Creative Evolution offers an explanation in 
terms of Agency. In accepting the ' given ' as that which we find in 
nature — and in leaving the question : What gives ? to be discussed in 
the philosophical class-room — emer-gent evolution does but follow, as I 
think, the traditional procedure of science. 

Consciousness and Enjoyment. 

In speaking of a mind as an integrated system of conscious events 
the word ' conscious ' is used in the broad and comprehensive sense that 
Was almost universally accepted a generation ago. But in accordance 
with current usage we must now distinguish consciousness from the 
unconscious. I happen to regard the woi'd ' unconscious ' as pecuUarly 
unfortunate — chosen as it is on the lucus a non lucendo principle. But 
let that pass. There it is and we must make the best of it — seeking to 
penetrate its dark wood. Under the older and more comprehensive 
use, consciousness may be indefinable. As in the case of spatial or 
dl temporal relatedness we have got down to something that we find, 
rather than to something that can be strictly defined. Hence one 
has to proceed by indicating instances that fall within the inclusive 
class which we so name. The position is that, in the comprehensive 
class which we used to comprise under the heading of consciousness, 
it is now thought desirable to make two sub-classes — (a) the uncon- 
scious and (h) the conscious. There is call, therefore, for the indication 
of some criteria which shall serve to distinguish the one from the other. 
Here definition is required. And since the unconscious is ' served withi 
the negative prefix,' it is clear that the criteria we seek must distinguish] 
by their presence the conscious from the unconscious in which these 
criteria are absent. Under what heading, then, are we now to place! 
the compi-ehensive class including both (a) and (b)? I suppose we I 


may call it the class of psychical events — as distinguished from physical 
and physiological events. But we still want some convenient noun 
which we may qualify by the adjectives ' conscious ' and ' unconscious.' 
I borrow froni Mr. Alexander, and adapt for my present purpose, the 
name 'enjoyment.' Perhaps the chief objection to the choice of this 
word is that it must be understood as including what is unpleasant no 
less than that which is pleasureable. But as I cannot find a better, 
and am loth to coin a worse, I ask leave to use this word ' enjoyment ' 
to include all Hint has the psycliical cliaracter or aspect. I regard the 
emphasis on affective tone which it suggests as a point in its favour. 

On these terms there fall within the comprehensive class of enjoy- 
ment two sub-classes : (a) unconscious enjoyment and (b) conscious 
enjoyment — the latter marked by certain differentiating criteria. It 
may, however, be said (with some impatience) : This division and sub- 
division into classes and sub-classes may be all very well in its way; 
but we ought to deal with concrete systems, not with abstract classes. 
So be it. Then, in this or that psychical system or mind, with concrete 
individuality, there is enjoyment which is (in some sense) unconscious, 
and there may also be enjoyment which is conscious (under some 
definition) ; and we want to distinguish in some way the one kind of 
enjoyment from the other. That puts the matter in more concrete 

The question now arises : Is the distinction between the conscious 
and the unconscious just the same as that which is often drawn between 
' above the threshold ' and ' below the threshold ' (supraliminal and 
subliminal)? Or, if they are not just the same, is there such close and 
intimate alliance that we may still say that all that is supraliminal is 
conscious and all that is subliminal is unconscious? 

Let us first ask what we are to understand by supraliminal and by 
subliminal. I find this question exceedingly difficult to answer, save 
in rather vague and general terms. It involves a boundary line — the 
threshold — very hard to draw if one keeps within the sphere of what I 
have called homogeneous treatment. Is it a matter of intensity of 
psychical process, or of complexity, or of some combination of both? 
If so, can we, on purely psychical grounds, get a scale of one or other 
or both, so as to determine that zero-level at which what we call the 
threshold stands ? It is difficult to do so. 

May we say that the supraliminal is what we actually feel or ex- 
perience, and that the subliminal is that the presence of which we 
infer? Then on what grounds is this inference based? Is it that 
we find, on occasion, that we have done something without any felt 
experience in doing it ? If so, what evidence is there with regai^d to the 
nature of the psychical or inner aspect which on that occasion accom- 
panied the doing? Or is it that the supraliminal experience is such as 
to lead us to infer that the subliminal modifies its felt nature? But 
if the difference is felt, as such, the subliminal so far enters into the 
supraliminal field so as to be felt indirectly if not directlj'. In that case 
the boundary seems hard to draw. 

Shall we then resort to heterogeneous treatment? Shall we regard 
the psychically supraliminal as correlated with some q,ssignabJe 


character of physiological process, say in the cortex of the brain? It 
is sometimes said that ' when the brain-paths are worn smooth ' the 
correlated psychical process becomes (or tends to become) subliminal. 
Without denying the partial validity of some such interpretation in 
correlating the physiology and psychology of habit, can one accept 
the general principle that at some stage of lessened synaptic resistance 
enjoyment is subliminal and at some stage of heightened synaptic 
resistance it is supraliminal? Is there not rich enjoyment (apparently 
well above the threshold) in the performance of well-established habit? 
And is there good evidence that (let us say) clear and vivid perception or 
swift and effective thought (which seems to thrill with supraliminal 
enjoyment) is proportional to physiological friction or synaptic 
resistance ? 

If the emphasis fall, not on the synaptic resistance overcome but on 
the establishment of a constellation of neuronic connections, and if it 
be urged that it is integration in progress which is correlated with what 
is psychically supraliminal, there may be much that is in favour of 
some such view. But does it follow that it is only when integration 
is in progress that enjoyment is supraliminal? There is surely much 
which is the outcome of well-established process that seems to be dis- 
tinctly above the threshold. I am not satisfied that in our present state 
of knov/ledge heterogeneous treatment helps us very much to draw a 
definite line. 

Eeverting, then, to homogeneous treatment, it is often said that 
the subliminal (commonly regarded, I think, as a synonym for the un- 
conscious) may best be defined as that which lies beyond the reach of 
introspection. But the introspection in terms of which the distinction 
is made stands in need of careful re-examination. Apart from 
behaviourist criticism, which has to be reckoned with, Mr. Alexander 
has raised the pertinent question : What is it that is reached by 
introspection? Is it the process of minding (e.g. attending or being 
interested), or is it that which is minded (what one is attending to, 
or interested in)? If the latter, he denies that it should be called 
introspection ; it is a form of ' extrospection ' in relation to what, for 
him, are non-mental (and, for me, objective) images or concepts — ^in 
mind by way of idea. And if the former, he denies that there is such 
introspection; for minding, though it is enjoyed, cannot, he says, be 
an object of contemplation or at the same time then and there minded. 
Now I have taken the word ' consciousness ' as connoting mental pro- 
cess — i.e. that which is in mind by way of attribute. And I am dis- 
posed to agree with Mr. Alexander that mental process as such (and 
therefore consciousness as such) is not directly within the reach of 
introspection. I cannot follow this up. Indeed, my aim is only to 
show that if we are to define the supraliminal in terms of introspection 
we need a careful and up-to-date discussion of that in terms of which 
we so define it. To say that everyone knows what introspection is 
does not suffice. 

Furthermore, those who have carefully considered the matter will 
probably regard introspection as possible only at the level of reflective 
thought. Presumably the cow has not reached tbat level. Put if th§ 


supraliminal is to be defined as that which is within the reach of 
introspection, can the cow have any supraliminal enjoyment if she have 
no introspection by means of which to reach it? Does comparative 
psychology endorse this current method of dealing with that very 
elusive limit, the threshold? 

It must not be inferred from what I have said that the concept of 
threshold must be abandoned. It may be a difficult line to draw and 
yet be there as a boundary. We may still speak rather vaguely of 
supraliminal and subliminal. What I wish to suggest is that the line 
between them need not be coincident with that between conscious and 
unconscious. There are, I believe, modes of enjoyment both conscious 
and unconscious in the supraliminal field. But this reopens the main 
question : What are the differentiating criteria of the conscious ? 

Criteria of Consciousness. 

Ask the plain man what he means when he speaks of acting con- 
sciously and he will probably reply : ' I mean doing this or that with some 
measure of intention and with some measure of attention to what 
is done or to its outcome. The emphasis may vary; but one, or 
other, or both, of these characterise action that I call conscious. If 
I offend a man unconsciously there is no intention to give offence. 
When a cyclist guides his machine unconsciously he no longer pays 
attention to the business of steering, avoiding stones in the road, and 
so forth.' Now if this cori'ectly represents the plain man's view, it 
is clear that a full consideration of his attitude would involve careful 
discussion of intention and of attention. This is beyond my present 
scope. I want to dig farther down so as to get at what, as I think, 
underlies his meaning, and thus to put what I have to submit in a much 
more general form. 

I want, if possible, to get down to what there is in the most 
primitive instances of consciousness — i.e. right down to that which 
characterises them as such. I believe that there is always in addition 
to that which is immediately given (say under direct stimulation in 
sense-awareness) some measure of revival with expectancy, begotten 
of pi'evious behaviour in a substantially similar situation. Conscious- 
ness is always a matter of the subsequent occasion, and always pre- 
supposes a precedent occasion. In other words it is the outcome of 
repetition ; and yet, paradoxically, when it comes it is something 
genuinely new. But this is the very hall-mark of emergence. That is 
why Mr. Alexander and I speak of consciousness as an emergent quality. 

Let us analyse some simple first occasion — that on which a chick 
behaves to a ladybird will serve. The eye is stimulated from a distance 
with accompanying enjoyment (a). The chick responds by approach- 
ing and pecking with enjoyment in behaving (b). There follows con- 
tact stimulation with its enjoyment (c); and, thereon, behaviour of 
rejection with (d). We have thus (as I interpret) a biologically 
determined but orderly sequence affording successive modes of enjoy- 
ment a, b, c, d. So far the precedent occasion. On a subsequent 
occasion there is (a) as before in presentative fonn ; this is immediately 
given in sensory acquaintance. But (b, c, d) are also ' in mind ' — 


mediately or in re-presentative guise, under revival, as what Professor 
Stout calls ' meaning. ' We have therefore (under an analogy) on 
the precedent occasion the notes a, h, c, d, strucli in sequence. We 
have on the subsequent occasion [b, c, d) rung up by (a) through a 
' mechanism ' (a bad word since the mechanical is superseded) provided 
psychically and neurally in the instrument. And when the notes 
(a, b, c, d) thus vibrate together they have the emergent quality of what 
one may speak of as the chord of consciousness. 

What is there, however, about this emergent chord which 
differentiates it from the precedent sequence of notes a, b, c, d? It 
must be something psychical in its nature. I suggest that the revival 
carries with it a specific mode of new enjoyment which may be called 
' againness ' ; that which affords the basis of felt recognition. There 
is also something equally new in expectancy. That this is (so far 
as our own experience testifies) a fa-ctor in the chord of consciousness 
is, I should suppose, scarcely open to question. I believe that it arises 
somewhat thus. On the precedent occasion the order of sequence was 
(c), after (a). On the subsequent occasion the quale in consciousness 
takes the form of what one may call the ' comingness ' of (c) precedent 
to the ' comeness ' which normally follows. But I cannot here follow 
up this clue. 

Now whereas on the precedent occasion it is behaviour unconsciously 
directed towards that from which stimulation arrives that determines 
the order b, c, d as sequent on a; on the subsequent occasion it is the 
'meaning ' [b, c, d) which then consciously determines the-direction of 
behaviour. This centering of ' meaning ' on that to wliich behaviour 
was on the precedent occasion unconsciously directed is the basis of 
conscious reference to an object. 

The characteristics, then, of a chord of consciousness are revival 
with expectancy and with conscious reference which anticipates, and, 
through anticipation (thus forestalling the event), may endorse, or 
inhibit, the further course of behaviour. And its emergent character, 
as chord, makes consciousness, not merely an additive blend of con- 
stituent tones of enjoyment, but (in Browning's forcible emphasis on 
a wholly new quaUty) ' a star.' (Cf. Abt VogUr.) 

I have thus far dealt with the criteria of consciousness on the lines 
of what I conceive to be its evolutionary genesis. I must now ask 
whether these criteria — revival with expectancy and reference — do not 
characterise what we commonly regard as conscious enjoyment in our 
own adult life. My own experience is consonant with the outcome 
of genetic treatment. And I would ask others if there is not in our 
current consciousness always some measure of felt 'againness ' carried 
over from the past in revival, and always some measure of ' comingness ' 
in expectancy. I would ask whether there is not, as essential to con- 
sciousness, some leaning back on previous experience, some leaning 
forward to that which the future has in store. Is not this what 
M. Bergson means (I do not say all that he means) when he speaks 
of consciousness as ' a hyphen ' linking past and future ? 

It need only be added that the conscious enjoyment in minding 
lies in the felt againness and comingness and referring — i.e. in the -ing 


aspect. But there are in consciousness as above differentiated always 
correlative -ed-aspects in that which is revived, that which is expected, 
and that to wliich there is objective reference. 

Stress on Integration. 

I suppose that there may be pretty general agreement that, in 
dealing with mind, emphasis — perliaps the chief emphasis — should fall 
on integration. I use the word ' integration ' for that kind of systematic 
relatedness which obtains in an organism, and in a mind, where the 
functioning of sub-systems, as parts of the whole, depends on that 
of the system as a whole. 

Let us here very briefly advert to that organic integration which 
characterises a system which has the emergent quality of life. "We 
find a number of sub-systems — respiratory, circulatory, reproductive, 
and so on — within the comprehensive life-system of the organism. We 
find these functional activities interrelated in many vei'y subtle and 
delicate ways in the life that is common to them all. We consider, 
for example, the integrative action of the nervous system, and of that 
which may now be called the ' hormonic ' system of internal secretions 
distributed by the bloo<l-stream. The working of any one sub-system 
may facilitate or enhance the working of another; or it may partially 
arrest or even inhibit it. Abnonnal functional activity of one sub- 
system may throw another sub-system out of gear; and so the trouble 
may spread. But the sub-systems are not historically prior to the life- 
system as a whole within which they play their parts; nor is the 
whole (that whole) prior to its sub-systematic constituents ; whole and 
parts have been progressively evolved together with such closely related 
interplay as characterises the quality of life. 

Now I assume, or accept as a provisional hypothesis, that uncon- 
scious enjoyment is correlated with life-process throughout its whole 
range. I know not where to draw the line between presence and 
absence. And how else can we interpret in homogeneous treatment, 
under emergence, psychical continuity in the race? In other words, 
wherever there is life there too, even in the germ cells, there is also, 
I assume, an accompaniment of enjoyment, psychical in its nature, 
at a level correlative with that of the current physiological process. 

If this hypothesis be provisionally accepted in the spirit in which 
it is provisionally offered, what holds good for the life-system holds good 
also in principle and mutatis mutandis for the psychical system. But 
within that system there emerges the higher quality of consciousness 
(iv, yS) characterised, lot us say, by cognitive reference to the objective 
environment (to emphasise this criterion). Hence in the light of 
developing consciousness there is a progressive re-grouping in reference 
to the objects of which we are conscious, or objects in terms of which 
much of our unconscious enjoyment is re-interpreted. We say that 
dispositions, or interests, or innate tendencies, or emotional systems, or 
instincts, or impulses, are awakened to activity from a state of more 
or less unconscious slumber. (We are sure to use some rather 
metaphorical expressions.) These are then regarded as the sub-systems 
of the mind. Each has some measure of autonomous integration ; all 


are in some measure inter-related; and in a well-balanced mind, the 
net results of a bewildering number of psychical processes, many of 
them previously subliminal and unconscious, are caught up in sub- 
servience to conscious integration. But taken in detail there is much 
interplay between the psychical sub-systems as such, with facilitation, 
partial arrest, more or less inhibition, and perhaps derangement of 
function. There may be failure of normal integration within one 
systematic whole, or even such dislocation as we speak of as complete 
dissociation. And any of the psychical sub-systems — the so-called 
sexual complex for example — may be active in the subliminal region 
of the unconscious, or may rise into the supraliminal field and may 
modify the course of conscious events. 

There is thus integration within the sub-systems severally, and 
integration of these sub-systems collectively so as to constitute a 
whole with (let us hope) due balance and poise. The unity ol the whole 
is not that of simplicity but that of integrated complexity. In the 
degree in which the total integration fails to conduce to what we 
speak of as mental health and sanity we regard the poise as abnormal, 
and seek, by appropriate means (under the guidance of sympathy), 
(1) to ascertain to what sub-systematic conditions the lack of balance 
is due, and (2) to re-establish, if possible, the noi-mal poise. It is 
here that psycho-therapy has done such valuable work in the practical 
application of psychological principles no longer restricted to the sphere 
of reflective consciousness only. 

Levels of Psychical Integration. 

In our normal life much integration proceeds on the reflective 
level — that of rational thought and volitional conduct. The older 
philosophers, with some variation of terminology, urged that the 
difference between this reflective level and the perceptive level below it 
(e.g. in Descartes' animal automatism) is one not only of degree but 
of kind. The difference, they said in effect, is radical and absolute, 
demanding metempirical explanation. Thus the word ' kind ' carried 
a definitely metaphysical implication the influence of which is still 
with us to-day. But apart from this, as a matter of frankly empirical 
description of what is found, it was their way of expressing what I 
seek to express by saying that reflective consciousness has a new 
emergent quality — that which characterises reason as distinguished from 
perceptual intelligence. We have, however, the one word ' conscious- 
ness ' for both these levels. But within the more comprehensive sub- 
class, comprising all instances of consciousness, we may distinguish 
two sub-classes subordinate therein, (i) that of instances of reflective 
consciousness (iv, y), and (ii) that of instances of non-reflective con- 
sciousness (iv, y8 ). Both sets of instances have the criteria of con- 
sciousness. But in (i) there is a further differentia in that ' value ' 
(in the technical sense) is refen-ed to the object of such reflective thought. 
There is then, on this view, reflective integration, and there is also 
non-reflective or perceptive integration, each on its appropriate level, and 
each in its distinctive way conscious. 

It is to the reflective level that all interpretation and explanation 



properly belong. And it is here that there emerge the significant re- 
lations of conduct to value (truth, beauty, goo<lness) in conscious 
reference to objects of reflection. That, in us, much integration is 
established at this level of our conscious life cannot be questioned. 
But to say that all psychical integration is established at this level 
is itself an interpretation subject to truth-value; and one is pretty safe 
in roundly asserting that it is erroneous. Now, regarded from the 
point of view of emergent evolution, just as the quality of consciousness 
is dependent on, and supervenient to, the quality of life, so too is 
reflective consciousness dependent on, and supei-venient to, the prior 
development of unreflective consciousness — in human folk in large 
measure begotten, through perceptive imitation, of the customs of our 
'herd.' This unreflective process, as such, imitatively follows a lead 
which is itself the outcome of traditional habit no less unreflective. 
But reflective interpretation in due course supervenes when values come 
within the mental horizon; and it may be (alas often is) erroneous. 
And a leading type of false interpretation to which men are prone Is 
seen in the tendency to trump up reflective motives in terms of value 
for actions detennined by integration that is unreflective in character. 
As Huxley long ago put it, ' What we call rational grounds for our 
beliefs are often extremely irrational attempts to justify our instincts.' 

How then do we stand? There is perceptive integration (con- 
sciously but not reflectively established) such as is the salient feature 
in the mental life of many animals. This passes up from its proper 
level to that of reflective consciousness, and is there re-integrated in 
the new significant field of value. Then, as reflective habitudes of 
valuing get firmly rooted, such re-integration spreads downwards to 
give value to more and more of that which has been established under 
the lower and earlier integration of the perceptive order. Behaviour 
is reorganised as conduct in terms of value. 

This double process is noteworthy. Yilien the emergent level of 
reflective consciousness is reached, the outcome of prior unreflective 
integration passes up from its lower level. But as re-integration at the 
upper level proceeds, more and more of the unreflective substratum 
undergoes reflective regrouping around the values which are the new 
centres of that higher re-integration. Unreflective integration ascends 
from below ; reflective re-integi'ation descends from above. But they 
are different ; the new ' form ' of integration is other than the old. 
There is always some ' conflict ' which has been a fruitful theme in 
drama from the time of the Greeks onwards. And in our so-called 
normal life (to say nothing of that which is abnormal) this conflict of 
systems, with different centres of gi'ouping and fields of influence, is 
daily and hourly in evidence. 

Now carry the matter a stage lower. Unreflective integration of 
the perceptually intelligent order is consciously established in the course 
of individual life. The animal unreflectively learns to act in nice 
accordance with varying circumstances just as man learns also to act 
reflectively in relation to value. But is there not a yet deeper integra- 
tion the products of which come up from below the perceptive level? 
Unquestionably there is, A generation ago it wag regarded as purely 


physiological; but that involves heterogeneous interpretation. If we 
accept the correlation of enjoyment with life we can regard it as un- 
conscious integration. Its characteristic feature is that it is not con- 
sciously established in the course of individual or personal life. Its 
integrated ' form ' is inherited and not acquired, though it may be 
swiftly re-integrated at the perceptive or (later) at the reflective level. 
As such and in its primary ' form,' as initially given, it is an ancestral 
bequest transmitted as a psychical legacy through the parents. Of it 
the individual is the unconscious heir. 

Primarily dependent on the great life-functions, closely coiTelated 
with current physiological process in the organic sub-systems, finding 
expression in the co-ordinated, albeit unlearnt, behaviour adapted to 
racially recurrent life-situations, unconscious enjoyment, as psychical 
aspect, is, as M. Bergson says (but under a different interpretation), 
moulded to the very form of life — nay more, to every changing phase 
of the physiological balance and poise of the organism as such. Of 
this unconscious enjoyment nmch is, and may remain, the subliminal 
basis for a supraliminal superstructure at the levels of conscious in- 
tegration. But qua unconscious it does not necessarily remain 
subliminal. In any of its ' forms ' it may, on occasion, surge up into 
the supraliminal field with strongly affective tone, and thus afford new 
factors to be woven into the tapestry of the higher conscious integration. 
It still, however, even there, bears the mark of the unconscious in that 
it is new and unexpected with no feeling of againness just because, as 
fresh and new, there is no againness in the individual life to feel. 
And this insurgent factor, welling up from the unconscious, may, and 
often does, come into conflict with the outcome of perceptive or un- 
reflective, and still more markedly with the outcome of our reflective 
re-integration. This more radical conflict is mi fond that between what 
is racially established for the furtherance of life, as such, and what is 
socially established (far later in the evolutionary order) at the reflective 
level of that which we call (with emphasis on one of the values) our 

Having no space for further elaboration in detail, I must rest content 
with drawing attention to the following salient points. Although it 
originates in the unconscious and is there shaped to its integrated 
' form, ' the uprush from the deeper psychical strata founded on life- 
inheritance may glow and thrill with the affective tone which is the 
hall-mark of enjoyment and may take a very high place in the supra- 
liminal field. Secondly, in that field it can only be distinguished (and 
that mainly inferentially) under analysis. It cannot ever be separated 
from the conscious factors which emergently combine with it in per- 
ceptive or in reflective re-integration. Thirdly, the distinguishing fl 
positive character of the innate factor which comes up from the un- 
conscious (if we can catch it prior to further combination) is that it 
is new to individual experience. As new, there is no revival, no feeling ■ 
of againness, no expectancy of what will next come based on the 
experience of what has come on like occasions ; for there have been no 
like occasions in the course of individual life. And it gets all its 
reference to objects through its alliance with the conscious, 



, It seems to me therefore imperative to distinguish in that which 
is present in the suprahminal field according to tlie mode of origin of 
tlie integration that obtains. We must ask: How far is the ' form ' 
which it assumes (iii) the outcome of reflective integration; (ii) the 
outcome of unreHective or perceptive integration ; and (i) the outcome 
of the integration in the subliminal unconscious to which as living 
beings we are heirs'? If I am right in regarding (ii) and (iii) as 
successively emergent qualities of consciousness there is somewhat of a 
leap (though no breach of continuity) from (i) to (ii), and from (ii) to (iii). 
There is always something more (involving new terms in new relations) 
in the higher-level conclusion than is contained in the lower-level 
premisses. This is the cardinal principle of all emergent evolution. 
Without this there would be nothing really new — merely a reshuffling 
of the old. 

Eevert now to ascending and descending integration. Under what 
may be spoken of as degradation — going down a step with habitude and 
habit — well-established reflective integration may assume the status 
of unreflective integration, and well-established unreflective integration 
that of the unconscious. The illustrative facts are familiar enough. 
It appears that the physiological correlates of this descent or degradation 
from higher to lower levels may be interpreted in terms of neural loop- 
lines and lower-level short-cuts due to lessened synaptic resistance in 
subordinate centres. If this be so, it is strictly accordant with the 
dependence of consciousness on life that psychical degradation should 
accompany physiological automatisation. The one is the correlated 
inner aspect of processes with which the physiologist has to deal. 

Are there Unconscious Images and Ideas P 

In the interpretation to which I have been led unconscious enjoyment 
(not necessarily involving unconscious images and ideas) is no less 
integrated than is the system of physiological events which gives to 
life its emergent quality. If the analogy be permitted, just as in the 
physiological symphony of life there are chords and phrases and 
motifs, each with an emergent character of its own (e.g. the part played 
by the instruments of the reproductive sub-system), so too, in the 
psychical symphony of unconscious enjoyment there are correlated 
chords, phrases, and motifs. And all goes well so long as due balance 
and harmony is maintained in the orchestral performance, no matter 
what instruments play a dominant part at the time being. But uncon- 
scious enjoyment is primarily inherited psychical music correlated with 
the outcome of life-inheritance. I entertain little doubt that the life 
of animals, could we only feel its inner aspect as they themselves do, 
is brim-full of a rich music of unconscious enjoyment. As I write 
the swifts are wheeling and shrilling in the summer air. Am I wholly 
wrong in imputing to them an integrated form of enjoyment which is 
theirs on a basis of inheritance ? Perhaps even sympathetic naturalists 
fail adequately to realise to what extent in animals the business of life 
as such, with further life as its wage, has also its psychical reward in 
enjoying so fully the performance of life's job. And this reward in 
the enjoyment of doing is inherited with the ability to do. A 


behaviourist interpretation of how it all comes about is, I believe, 
perfectly sound in its way. Not in what it emphasises, but in what 
(among extremists) it ignores — a psychical factor — does it seem to me 
to be deficient. In us at any rate the presence of enjoyment is un- 
deniable. And though it is so readily caught up into consciousness it 
still carries, I think, the marks of its unconscious origin. What does 
the poet or the artist tell us? Does he not claim that what springs 
up within him — if it be in truth (he may add) in any valid sense his — is 
quite inexplicable on what he regards as psychological principles ? And 
if psychological principles deal only with conscious integration he is 
right. His poetry, or his art, is not in its essential nature the outcome 
of perceptive or reflective integration. Its well-springs lie deeper than 
that in the unconscious. He rightly affirms that the real thing in all 
true art is beyond his conscious control, though the means by which 
it is expressed must be learnt and may be bettered by taking thought. 
This is enshrined in the proverb : Poeta nascitur, non fit. And even of 
those who can only appreciate his work, may it not be said, with a touch 
of paradox, that enjoyment in art becomes reflectively conscious in 
criticism. This need not mean that the critic enjoys poetry any the less 
for the combination in higher integration of unconscious and conscious 
enjoyment. "What it does mean is that the glad newness and glory 
of surprise lies in the poetry and not in the criticism. Once again it 
must bo said that it is the fresh unexpectedness that is still the hall- 
mark of the unconscious. 

And here a question arises which I find it difficult to put in readily 
intelligible form. Is the rich enjoyment which gets human expression 
in the poet — but gets expression also in the Black-cap, consummate 
master of song — is this enjoyment dependent on that expression, or is 
the expression dependent on unconsciously integrated enjoyment? 
Which is prior to the other in order of dependence? What, you may 
ask, am I driving at in propounding so subtle a conundrum? Well, I 
take it that the Black-cap sings, under the conspiring influence of the 
situation and envii'oning conditions, because it is part of his inborn 
nature so to sing under these circumstances. His song is primarily 
the outcome of the unconscious poise of a psychical system, correlated 
no doubt with a physiological poise. In that sense surely the expression 
in song depends on unconscious enjoyment — or, if it be preferred, the 
behaviour in song depends on the integrated life-process with which 
unconscious enjoyment is correlated. Whether we say that the 
behaviour-expression (with its accompanying enjoyment) is dependent 
on impulse, or disposition, or instinct, or emotional state, what we mean 
is that if the latter be absent the former will not come into being. If 
I may so put it, unconscious enjoyment, affectively integrated, becomes 
clothed in the expression, with its enjoyment, and is consciously 
integrated therewith on the higher perceptive level. And what of the 
poet? I think that he too may tell us that unconscious integration of 
the emotional order precedes the imagery in which it is expressed — that, 
as he may put it, ' the poetic inspiration strives to find expression ' — 
that the clothing in imagery depends, on the prior affective integration, 
as yet unconscious. 


This leads on to the broader question. Does that which we call the 
unconscious depend on the presence of images and ideas ; or are images 
and ideas the cognitive raiment which the unconscious puts on at the 
emergent levels of perceptive and reflective consciousness? The 
question in brief really comes to this : Are there what we may compre- 
hensively speak of as memories in the unconscious ? In much present- 
day resuscitation of Herbartian notions (which some of us thought were 
little better than picturesque mythology long ago discarded as obsolete) 
the unconscious is peopled with such memories — with images, ideas, 
wishes, and thoughts, living together, as Professor James Ward puts it, 
' like shades on the banks of the Styx.' Is this so? It is against this 
sort of thing that the behaviourist rises in vigorous protest ; and, swing- 
ing his pendulum too far (in some cases), drops psychology overboard 
and proceeds on his course in the biological ship. For those who cannot 
go to this extreme the alternative view is that memories have being 
only in supraliminal consciousness and that the unconscious, as such, 
is no wise imagmal. It is not yet cognitive. Only through cognition 
at the higher level of unreflective or perceptive consciousness does it 
begin to put on the raiment of images, ideas, and the rest, and thus find 
expression in the supraliminal field. 

On this alternative view not only are there no inherited memories in 
any form or guise, but there are no memory-images in existence save 
as correlative to an existent pi'ocess of conscious remembering. One 
opens up here the whole problem of retention. What is retained — the 
blossoms of imagery, or the conditions under which they will in due 
season appear ? The plant does not retain flowers ; but its abiding 
nature is such that flowers are put forth under the influence of external 
conditions at a recurring stage of constitutional life-balance. This 
analogy may be rejected. If so the grounds of rejection should be 
clearly set forth. Is it on the ground that lilac-blossoms are not stored 
but that my memory-image of those I saw last spring is stored ? One 
may then ask whether there is any better scientific evidence for the 
latter than for the former. M. Bergson is unwearied in his reiteration 
of the absurdity of supposing that images are stored in the brain. 
But M. Bergson contends that memory-images are stored in the 
' obscure depths ' of a realm of being quite disparate from that of the 
brain. All that one has ever experienced is thus retained. ' I believe,' 
says M. Bergson, that ' our past life is there, preserved even in the 
minutest detail; nothing is forgotten; all that we have perceived, 
thought, willed, from the first awakening of our consciousness, persists 
indefinitely. But the memories which are preserved in these obscure 
depths are for us in the state of invisible phantoms. ' If this is to be 
accepted as ' scientific truth ' the man of science may reasonably ask 
for such evidence as he is accustomed to demand in other branches of 
scientific inquiry. And if it is part of the metaphysics which we are 
' to superpose upon scientific truth ' this should be more clearly stated 
than some at least of M. Bergson's disciples are wont to state it. At 
all events the status of images, ideas, wishes, and thoughts in the 
unconscious — nay deeper than that whether as such they are there 


existent at all — is perhaps the most important of the fundamental 
questions which psychology has just now to answer. 

And the answer must be sought, not only by those psychologists 
who have wide training and all-round experience, but in. the full light 
of science as a whole. Part of my aim has been to lay stress on the 
solidarity of scientific inquiry. The psychologist must not work 
independently of the physiologist and the biologist, nor they inde- 
pendently of the chemist and the physicist. No member of the 
brotherhood of science may ignore or contravene what has been 
established in other fields of research. Though there is more at any 
higher level of emergent evolution than there is in the lower, the more 
is never divoi-ced from the less on which it is founded. At the higher 
stage new modes of relation may obtain ; but they are nowise discrepant 
with those which still obtain in the lower. And we must never interpret 
the lower in ter-ms which belong to a higher emergent stage. That is 
false method in science. It is perhaps the cardinal principle of 
explanation in metaphysics ; but in science it must be um-eservedly 

We here touch the quick of the world-problem under the interpre- 
tation of science and explanation by metaphysics. Emergent evolution 
works upwards from materiality through life to consciousness which 
attains in man its highest reflective level. It accepts the ' more ' at 
each stage as that which is given, and accepts it to the full and ungrudg- 
ingly. It urges that the ' more ' of any given stage is dependent on, 
or implies, the ' less ' of the stages which are prior to it both logically 
and historically. It does not interpret the higher in terms of the lower ; 
for that would imply denial of the emergence of those new modes of 
natural relatedness which characterise the higher and make it what it 
is. Nor does it explain the lower in terms of the higher. It leaves that 
kind of explanation to metaphysics. If physical changes are explained 
in terms of life ; if physiological changes are explained in terms of 
unreflective or perceptive cognition, or this is explained in terms of the 
reflective consciousness which is emergent in philosophical thought; if 
all that we know is explained as the expression of yet higher and more 
completely integrated Mind or Knowledge — that is, I believe, the dis- 
tinguishing mark of metaphysical as contrasted with scientific method. 
I do not deny its validity within its proper sphere. I do question its 
validity and its utility in science. But to distinguish is not to separate. 
It may well be that the methods are not antagonistic but complementary. 
None the less I seek to bring out as clearly as I can the position as I see 
it. Interpretation of the higher as founded on the lower (but fuller and 
richer in the advance of nature) is, I conceive, in accordance with the 
method of science ; explanation of the lower in terms of that which is 
given only at a higher (and eventually the highest) stage — valid as it 
may be in metaphysics — must unreservedly be condemned in science. 

In dealing with a very difficult problem, in trying to dig down to 
foundations, in seeking to link up psychology with other branches 
of science under one consistent scheme of natural development, I 
have doubtless said many things which call for disagreement and 


protest. Many perhaps will not accept the distinction I draw between 
what I regard as empirical and what I regard as metempirical treat- 
ment. I have, however, only dwelt upon it so far as seemed 
to be necessary to indicate my concept of what science is and 
what it should seek to do. And though, on this occasion when 
men of science are gathered together, I hold a brief for the 
science in whose name we meet, it has been no part of my aim 
to disparage metaphysical explanation within its proper sphere. I 
may perhaps be allowed to say that, on a different platform, I should 
be prepared to defend, to the best of my ability, the Creative concept as 
nowise antagonistic to that of emergent evolution. I should then ask 
with Kant : ' May it not be that while every phenomenal effect must 
be connected with its cause in accordance with empirical causation, this 
empirical causation, without the least rupture of its connection with 
natural causes, is itself an effect of a Causality that is not empirical 
but [as Kant puts it] intelligible? ' 




D. H. SCOTT, LL.D., F.E.S., 


It has long been evident that all those ideas of evolution in which the 
older generation of naturalists grev/ up have been disturbed, or, indeed, 
transformed, since the re-discovery of Mendel's work and the conse- 
quent development of the new science of Genetics. Not only is the 
' omnipotence of Natural Selection ' gravely impugned, but variation 
itself, the foundation on wliich the l3arwinian theory seemed to rest 
so secm'ely, is now in question. 

The small variations, on which the Natural Selectionist rehed so 
much, have proved, for the most part, to be merely fluctuations, oscil- 
lating about a mean, and therefore incapable of giving rise to perma- 
nent new types. The well-established varieties of the Darwinian, such 
as the countless forms of Eraphila verna, are now interpreted as 
elementary species, no less stable than Linnean species, and of equally 
unknown origin. The mutations of De Vries, though still accepted at 
their face value by some biologists, are suspected by others of being 
nothing more than Mendelian segregates, the product of previous cross- 
ings; opinion on this subject is in a state of flux. In fact, it is clear 
that we know astonishingly little about variation. 

My friend Dr. Lotsy, indeed, proposes to dispense with variation 
altogether, and to find the true origin of species in Mendelian segrega- 
tion; inheritable variability, he believes, does not exist; new species, on 
his bold hypothesis, arise by crossing, and so, as he points out, we may 
have an evolution, though species remain constant. Thus everything 
apparently new depends on a re-combination of factors already present 
in the parents. ' The cause of evolution lies in the interaction of two 
gametes of different constitution. ' 

I am aware that very surprising results have been obtained by 
crossing. Nothing could well have been more striking than the series 
of Ajitirrhinum segi"egates which Dr. Lotsy showed us some years ago 
at a meeting of the Linnean Society. And now we hear of an apetalous 
Lychnis produced by the crossing of normally petaloid races. We do 
not know yet to what extent that sort of thing goes on in Nature, or 
what chance such segregates have of surviving. Still, if one may judge 
by Dr. Lotsy 's experimental results, ample material for Natural Selec- 
tion to work on might be provided in this way.* 

1 See Dr. Lotsy 's book. Evolution by Means of Hybridisation, The Hague, 



Dr. Lotsy's theory that new species originate by Mendehan segre- 
gation, if true, would have the advantage that it. would make quite 
plain the meaning of sexual reproduction. Hitherto there has been a 
good deal of doubt ; some authorities have held that sexual reproduction 
stimulated, others that it checked variation. But, if we eliminate varia- 
tion, and rely solely on the products of crossing, we get a clear view — 
' species, as well as indivduals, have two parents ' ; sexual reproduc- 
tion can alone provide adequate material for new forms, and can pro- 
vide it in unbounded variety. 

Again, though Dr. Lotsy himself is far from sanguine on this point, 
the crossing theory might be helpful to the evolutionary morphologist, 
for breeding is open to unlimited experiment, and we might hope to 
learn what kinds of change in organisms are to be expected. For 
example, the Lychnis experiment shows how easily a petaloid race 
may become apetalous. Such results might ultimately be a great help 
in unravelling the course of evolution in the past. We should gain 
an idea of the transformations which might actually have taken place, 
excluding those which were out of the question. At present all 
speculation on the nature of past changes is in the air, for variation 
itself is only an hypothesis, and we have to decide, quite arbitrarily, 
what kind of variations we think may probably have occmTed in the 
course of descent. One need only recall the various theories of the 
origin of the seed from the megasporangium to reahse how arbitrary 
such speculations are. 

But, while recognising certain advantages in the theory of the origin 
of species by crossing, it is not for me to pronounce any opinion as 
fo its truth. It is only the present position of the question that con- 
cerns us to-day. We shall hope to hear a statement of Dr. Lotsy's views 
from his own lips. 

Some modern geneticists believe that there is evidence for mutation 
by the loss of factors, apart from the effects of crossing. Dr. Lotsy con- 
siders that such changes, if proved, can afford no explanation of pro- 
gressive evolution. ' Evolution by a process of repeated losses is 
inconceivable. ' It has, however, been pointed out by Dr. Agnes Arber, 
in her recent admirable book on Water-plants, that, on any theory of 
evolution, ' what organisms have gained in specialisation they have lost 
in plasticity. ' She avails herself of a human analogy and says : ' The 
man, though superior to the baby in actual achievement, is inferior to 
it in the qualities which may be summed up in the word " promise," 
just as the Angiosperm, though its degree of differentiation so gi'eatly 
exceeds that of the primordial protoplasmic speck, is inferior to it when 
judged by its power to produce descendants of v/idely varying types ' 
(p. 335). 

This is true, but it is not clear that this admitted loss of poten- 
tialities is the same thing as the loss of factors, in the sense of genetics. 
For example, if a glabrous variety of Violet really arose as a mutation 
by loss of the factor for hairiness, assuming that such a loss was 
permanent, the effect would seem to be a diminution of specialisation, 
though, no doubt, it might also be interpreted as a loss of potentiality. 

Turning for a moment to Darwin's own theoiy of the origin of 



species by means of Natural Selection, the efficacy of the latter, in 
weeding out the unfit, is, of course, still acknowledged, and some 
geneticists allow it a considerable role. But there is a strong tendency 
m these days to admit Natural Selection only as a ' merely negative 
force, ' and as such it has even been dismissed as a ' truism. ' Now 
Darwin's great book was most certainly not written to enunciate a 
truism. He regarded Natural Selection as ' the most important, but 
not the exclusive, means of modification ' (' Origin of Species,' p. 4). 
It was the continual selection of the more fit, the ' preservation of 
favoured races,' on which he relied, and not the mere obvious elimina- 
tion of the unfit, and this great idea (so imperfectly understood by many 
of his contemporaries and successors) he worked out with astonishing 
power, in the light of the changes which man has produced, with the 
help of his own artificial selection. 

It may be that the theory of Natural Selection, as Darwin and 
Wallace understood it, may some day come into its own again ; cer- 
tainly it illuminated, as no other theory has yet done, the great subject 
of adaptation, wlfich to some of us is, and remains, the chief interest 
of Biology. But in our present total ignorance of variation and doubt 
as to other means of change, we can fonu no clear idea of the material 
on which Selection has had to work, and we must let the question rest. 

For the moment, at all events, the Darwinian period is past; we 
can no longer enjoy the comfortable assurance, which once satisfied so 
many of us, that the main problem had been solved — all is again in the 
melting-pot. By now, in fact, a new generation has grown up that 
knows not Dai-win. 

Yet Evolution remains — we cannot get away from it, even if we 
only hold it as an act of faith, for there is no alternative, and, after 
all, the evidence of Palaeontology is unshaken. I have thought it fair 
to lay stress on the present state of uncertainty in all that concerns 
the origin of species. On another occasion I even ventured to speak of 
the return of ' pre-Darwinian chaos. ' But out of this chaos doubtless 
light will come. 

Last year we had a joint discussion on Genetics and Paleontology; 
among many good speeches, I specially remember a remark by Miss 
Saunders, our then President, that Mendelism is a theory of heredity, 
not of evolution — a caution not unneeded, though, as the crossing 
hypothesis shows, the connection between the two conceptions may 
prove to be a very close one. 

Genetics is rendering the greatest service to Biology generally in 
ensuring that organisms shall be thought of as races, not as isolated 
individuals, mere chemical and physical complexes, at the mercy of 
the environment. The whole tendency of modern work is to show that 
in living things Heredity is supreme. An organism is what it is by 
virtue of the constitution of the germ-plasm derived from its parents. 
As Dr. Church has said in one of his recent Botanical Memoirs : ' The 
individual is no longer to be regarded as an isolated unit, or a casual 
creation, but is the present representative of a "race." That is to 
say, the individual is not, as short-sighted chemical physiologists tend 
to believe, a mere physical mechanism, the creature of the external 

K.— BOTANY. 178 

environment to which it passively responds ; but it is the living presenta- 
tion of a continuous line of organism, successful since living, or a 
"race" leading back as the expression of continued response to very 
similar, but not necessarily identical, environment, in unbroken plasma- 
tic continuity, over a period of time which, in terms of ultimate cytologi- 
cal history, may represent a continuous reaction and record for anything 
up to such an inconceivable period as two thousand million years.' 
This expresses the case vigorously, whether we accept the time estimate 
or not. Dr. Church goes on to say that ' during this period the more 
fundamental reactions, as expressed in morphological units of construc- 
tion, have been established as constants beyond any hope of change.' ^ 
This last statement is an important one for the palaeontologist, for all 
our attempts to trace descent rest on the assumption that, in a general 
sense and as regards certain well-established characters, ' Like breeds 

History, then, broadly speaking, is everything. But there is more 
than one kind of history in Biology. First, we have the exact records 
of the Mendelian from generation to generation, F\ F^, and so on; 
this alone is adequate, but we usually have to be content with some- 
thing much less. At the other end of the scale there is the fossil 
history, full of gaps and uncertainties of every kind, but always impos- 
ing from its vast duration. Then there are intermediate kinds of 
biological history, such as the imperfect records of the breeding cf 
cultivated plants or domestic animals. These can sometimes now be 
interpreted in the light of the more exact genetic histories, as Dr. Lotsy 
will show us in the case of some neglected and misinterpreted observa- 
tions of Darwin. 'Domestication,' as he says, 'spells segregation, 
followed by selection and isolation of the desirable segregates.' Darwin 
himself, though necessarily groping in the dark where genetics were 
involved, yet thought the study of cultivated and domestic races the 
best clue to the origin of species. If this holds good still, it makes 
a strong point in favour of the crossing theory of evolution, for the 
History of cultivated races seems to be largely the history of deUberate 
or unconscious Mendelian crossings. We may reasonably expect to 
find a relation between the process of origination of new cultural races 
and that of new species in Nature. 

This suggests the question, what we mean by a ' species '—far too 
difficult a matter to discuss now. Whatever we may think of Darwin's 
theory, his ' Origin of Species ' is at any rate a classic, and I believe 
we cannot do better than continue: to use the word in the same 
sense as Darwin used it — i.e. essentially in the sense of a Linnean 

Perhaps the best answer to the question ' What is a species ? ' is 
in the form 'Ranunculus rrpens,' avoiding all attempts at definition. 
T know Dr. Lotsy thinks differently, but pure races, whatever else and 
however important they may be, ' are but rarely or never met with 
in Nature ' (Lotsy), and are certainly not sppcies in the classical sense 
in which Darwin used the word ; to my mind it seems a pity to go out 
of our way to change completely the meaning of a familiar term. We 
2 Form Factors in Coniferce, Oxford, 1920, p. 22. 


can continue to call ' pure races ' by that name or any more modern 
equivalent, and ' elementary species ' may still be called so, or I have 
no objection to calling them ' Jordanons.' In the interests of practical 
taxonomy they necessarily have to be kept subordinated to Linnean 
species. There are difficulties enough either way, but they are, as it 
seems, less if we adopt the conservative course. That many Linnean 
species are real units of a definite order is generally admitted. Dr. 
Lotsv himself dwells on their distinctness, which depends on their 
usually not inter-crossing, and appears to be shown by the fact that 
among animals members of the same species recognise each other as 
such and habitually breed together. Such habitual breeding together 
under natural conditions is perhaps the best test of a species in the 
Linnean sense. ' The units within each Linneon ( = species) form an 
inter-crossing community.' (Lotsy.) He adds: 'Consequently it is 
Nature itself which groups the individuals to Linneons.' These ' pair- 
ing communities ' have recently been re-christened by Dr. Lotsy 
' syngameons, ' ^ a good name to express this aspect of the old ' species. ' 

I do not propose in these brief remarks to venture on that well-worn 
subject the inheritance of acquired characters — i.e. of such characters 
as are gained during the lifetime of the individual by reaction to the 
envii^onment. There has always been a strong cross-current of opinion 
in favour of this belief, especially, in our own time, in the form of 
' unconscious memory,' so ably advocated by Samuel Butler and sup- 
ported by Sir Francis Darwin in his Presidential Address to the British 
Association at Dublin. Professor Henslow, as we all know, is a 
veteran champion of the origin of plant structures by self-adaptation 
to the environment. On the other hand, some geneticists roundly deny 
that any inheritance of somatically acquired characters can take place. 
In any case, the evidence, as it seems, is still too doubtful and inadequate 
to warrant any conclusion, so, however fascinating such speculations 
may be, I pass on. 

To bring these introductory remarks to a close, we see that while 
the theory of Descent or Evolution is undisputed, we really know 
nothing certain as to the way in which new forms have arisen from 
old. During the reign of Darwinism we commonly assumed that this 
•had happened by the continual selection of small variations, and we 
are no longer in a position to make any such assumption. 

We Have been told on high authority that ' as long as we do not 
know how Primula ohconica produced its abundant new forms it is no 
time to discuss the origin of the Mollusca or of Dicotyledons.' (Bate- 
son.) Yet this is just the kind of speculation in which a palaeontologist 
is apt to indulge, and if kept off it he would feel that his occupation 
was gone ! However, so long as we may believe, as already said, that, 
on the whole, like breeds like, that grapes do not spring from thorns 
or figs from thistles, there is perhaps still sufficient basis for some 
attempt to interpret the past history of plants in terms of descent. 
But certainly we have learnt greater caution, and we must be careful 

'Lotsy, La Quintessence de la TMorie du Croisement. Archives 
Neerlandaises des Sciences, Ser. III. B., t. iii., l&l?. 

K.— BOTANY. 175 

not to go far beyond our facts, and, in particular, to avoid elaborate 
derivations of one type of structure from another where the supposed 
transitional forms have but a purely subjective existence; we have 
realised the difficulty of tracing homologies. We may still be allowed to 
seek affinities, even where we cannot trace descent. And though we 
may sometimes go a little beyond our tether and give rein to bolder 
speculations, there is no harm done so long as we know what we are 
doing, and there may be even some good in such flights if our scientific 
use of the imagination serves to give life to the dry bones of bare 
description. On this subject I am somewhat more optimistic than 
Dr. Lotsy, who, abandoning his ' Stammesgeschichte ' point of view, 
has dismissed all attempts at phylogenetic reconstruction as ' fantastic' 

There are some questions of the highest interest that at present can 
scarcely be approached in any other but a speculative way. Within 
the last year or two new points of view have thus been opened out. 
For example. Dr. Church's able essay on ' Thalassiophyta and the 
sub-aerial transmigration ' has brought vividly before us the great 
change from marine to terrestrial life. 

The origin of a Land Flora had, of course, been discussed with 
much ability before, but rather as incidental to a morphological theory. 
Dr. Church puts the actual conquest of the land in the foreground. We 
watch the land slowly rising toward the surface of the primeval ocean, 
the rooted sea-weeds succeeding the free-swimming plankton, and then 
the continents slowly emerging and the drama of the transmigration 
as the plants of the rock-pools and shallows fit themselves step by step 
for sub-aerial life when the dry land appears. It is a striking picture 
that is thus displayed to our view — whether in all respects a faithful 
one is another question; we must not expect impossibilities. The 
doubts which have been raised relate first to the assumed world-wide 
ocean, which seems not to be generally accepted by geologists. If con- 
tinental ridges existed from the first (i.e. from the original condensa- 
tion of watery vapour to form seas), the colonisation of the land may 
have followed other lines and have happened repeatedly. Perhaps, 
after all, that would not greatly affect the botanical aspects of the 
transmigration . 

The other difficulty is, however, a botanical one. Dr. Church looks 
at the whole problem from the sea-weed point of view, and it is well he 
does, for sea-weeds have been badly neglected, especially by some of the 
great continental morphologists, who used to lead our speculative 
flights. Dr. Church is much impressed by the high organisation of 
many sea- weeds, especially, in the living marine flora, by that of the 
Brown Algse. Here we find well-differentiated leaves, special repro- 
ductive shoots, extremely efficient holdfast roots, and, sometimes, a 
definite alternation of generations, while, on the anatomical side, we 
meet with true parenchymatous tissues, a well-developed phloem and 
secondary gn^owth in thickness. There is, in fact, in many respects, 
an anticipation of, or an analogy with important features which charac- 
terise the higher plants of the land. 

Dr. Church believes that the chief morphological characters of the 
Land Flora were first outlined in the sea ; that such characters were not 


newly assumed after transmigration, but that they merely represent 
an adaptation to sub-aerial conditions of a differentiation already attained 
at the phase of marine phytobenthon (rooted sea-weeds). At the same 
time it is not suggested that any existing class of sea-weeds can be taken 
as representing the ancestry of the Land Flora ; the transmigrant races 
are, as Algse, extinct — they may have been Green Algse of a high grade 
of organisation, on a level now perhaps most nearly represented by the 
highest of the Brown Seaweeds. 

Thus the transmigrants, which were destined to become the parents 
of the Land Flora, are pictured as already highly organised and well- 
differentiated plants, which only needed to provide themselves with 
absorptive instead of merely anchoring roots, and with a water-con- 
ducting system (xylem and stomata) in order to fit themselves for sub- 
aerial life, while, on the reproductive side, the great change remaining 
to be accomplished was the adaptation of the spores to transport by 
air instead of by water. 

It is clearly impossible to criticise the theory in detail, for the 
assumed transmigrants are ex lujpothesi unknown; we can only form 
a distant conception of what they were from the analogy of the highest 
sea-weeds of the present day, which admittedly belong to quite different 
lines of descent. Dr. Church puts the transmigration so far back 
(pre-Cambrian) that not much help can be expected from fossils, but 
to this subject we shall return. 

Some botanists find a difficulty in accepting the suggestion that 
plants already elaborately fitted out for a marine life could have sur- 
vived the transition, however gradual, to a totally different environment. 
Such thinkers prefer to believe that lower forms may have been 
more adaptable, and that morphological differentiation had, in a great 
degree, to start afresh when the land was first invaded. My own 
sympathies, I may say, are here with Dr. Church, for I have long 
inclined to the belief that the vascular plants were, in all probability, 
derived from the higher Thallophytes. The view of the late Professor 
Lignier, now so widely accepted, that the leaf, at least in the mega- 
phyllous or Fern-like Vascular Plants, was derived from specialised 
branch-systems of a thallus, assumes, at any rate, that the immediate 
ancestors possessed a well-developed thallus, such as is now known 
only among the higher Algae. The Hepaticse, as we now know them, 
clearly do not come into question, and the Pro-hepatics, which Lignier 
postulated as early ancestors, have only a theoretical existence, and if 
they were ever present in the flesh may well have been transmigrant 

The question now arises, how far have we any evidence from the 
rocks, which may bear on the transmigration and on the nature of the 
early Land Flora? A very few years ago no such evidence was avail- 
able — such data as we then possessed seemed too obscure to discuss. 
Quite recent discoveries, especially those from the famous Ehynie 
Chert-bed, have shown that in Early Devonian times certain remarkably 
simple land-plants existed, which in general configuration were no 
more advanced than some very ordinary sea-weeds of the present day. 
'At the same time these plants were obviously fitted for terrestrial life. 



as shown by the presence of a water-conducting tissue and stomata, 
and by the manifestly air-borne spores. These simplest land-plants 
are the Ehyniaceae [Rhynia and Hornea), while the third genus, 
Asteroxylon, was more advanced and further removed from any possible 
transmigrant type. 

My friend Dr. Arber was so impressed by the primitive character 
of Rhynia (the only one of these genera then known) that he boldly 
called it a Thallophyte, while recognising, in respect of anatomical 
structure, an intermediate position on the way to Pteridophyta. This 
is not really very different from the view taken by the investigators 
themselves, though they call the plants Pteridophytes, which they 
certainly are, if we go by internal structure rather than external 
morphology. But if, as Kidston and Lang suggest, the Ehyniaceae 
' find their place near the beginning of a current of change from an 
Alga-like type of plant to the type of the simpler vascular Crypto- 
gams,'* they must have been very primitive indeed and might even be 
regarded as fairly representing the true transmigrants which had not 
long taken to the land. 

It is true that the Middle Devonian is much too late a period for 
the original transmigration (I believe there is some evidence for land- 
animals in the Lower Silurian), but one may argue that some of the 
transmigrant forms may have survived as late as the Devonian, just 
as the Selaginella type seems to have gone on with little change from 
the Carboniferous to the present time. There must have been many 
such survivals of earlier forms in the Devonian period, if Arber was 
right in regarding all the characteristic plants of the Psilophyton Flora 
as 'much more probably Thallophyta than Pteridophyta.'' Cer- 
tainly some of them, apart from the Ehyniaceae, have an alga-like 
appearance (e.g. PseudosporocTinus!) and there is some evidence that 
such plants also were already vascular. There is, in fact, no doubt 
that the earlier Devonian Flora is turning out to have been on the whole 
more peculiar and more unlike the higher plants than we realised a 
few years ago. The Early Devonian plants cannot usually be referred 
to any of the recognised groups of Pteridophytes, and this is not owing 
to our imperfect knowledge, for it is just in those cases where the 
plants are most thoroughly known that their unique systematic position 
is most manifest. Arber called all the plants in question ' Procormo- 
phyta ' — an appropriate name. As Kiclston and Lang point out in 
their later work, the three groups — Pteridophyta, Bryophyta, and 
Algsc — are brought nearer together by the Ehynie fossils. 

And yet there is evidence that about the same period stems with 
the highly organised structure of Gymnospermous trees already 
existed. I refer to remains of which Palcsopitys Milleri, from the 
Middle Old Eed Sandstone of Cromarty, is the type. We need much 
further investigation of these higher forms of Early Devonian vegeta- 
tion, but we know enough to impose caution on our speculations. 

* This view is further developed and expanded in the authors' fourth 
memoir, which I have had the privilege of reading in MS. 

* Devonian Floras, a Study of the Origin of Cormophyta. Cambridge, 1921, 
p. 47. 


THe Ehyniacese, at all events, were leafless and rootless plants. In 
one species of Rliynia and in Hornea the aerial stems are entirely 
without any appendages, while in the other Rliynia there are hemi- 
spherical swellings, which have been identified by Arber with certain 
states of the spines in Psilopliyton. The emergences of R. Gwynne- 
Vaughani have been interpreted as nascent leaves, but more recent 
observations, showing their late histological origin, have rendered this 
hypothesis very doubtful. 

In Asteroxyhn, a higher plant altogether, the stem is clothed with 
quite distinct leaves, though they are somewhat rudimentary as regards 
their vascular supply. Have we, in these plants, and others of con- 
temporary date, the first origin of the leaf from a mere non-vascular 
emergence, or had reduction already begun, so that in Rhyniacese, for 
example, the leaves were in the act of disappearance? In the former 
case we should be assisting at the birth of Lignier's phylloids, the 
microphylls of the Lycopod series, though, as just mentioned, the out- 
growths in Rliynia GwTjnne-Vaughani may have had nothing to do 
with leaves. 

But the opposite view may also be tenable. We have already 
seen that these plants have been referred both to the Pteridophytes and 
the Thallophytes ; they also show signs of Bryophytic affinities, and T 
understand that it has even been proposed to include them in the 
Bryophyta, in which case every possible view will be represented. The 
Sphagnum-Mke structure of the columellate sporangium or sporogonium 
of Hornea and Sj)orogonites may justify the Bryophvtic attribution, and 
it is then, of course, easy to extend it to Rliynia. If we were to adopt 
this opinion, we should probably have to regard these simple Devonian 
plants as representing stages in the reduction of the sporophyte to a 
sporogonium, the leaves being already nearly or quite lost, while the 
branched thallus was still much in excess of the simple seta of the 
modem Moss or Hepatic. Naturally we know nothing of the gameto- 
phyte, so that the material for comparison is limited. Kidston and 
Lang, however, have recently pointed out that the presence of spore- 
tetrads clearly indicates the existence of a gametophvte. 

I make no attempt to decide between these views. There can 
be no reasonable doubt that the Psilophytales generally represent an 
earlier phase of Cormophytic life than any of the groups previously 
recognised. But we must not assume that all their characters were 
primitive. It has been pointed out that the Ehyniaceae were peat plants, 
and that the peat-flora is apt to be peculiar. Under such conditions 
it is not improbable that a certain amount of reduction may have 
already been undergone, though this is not the view taken by the 

There is one more point in connection with the Rhynie plants which 
may be mentioned, as it is of purely morphological interest, and may 
be more in place here than at a later stage of the discussion. 

In Hornea, as Kidston and Lang have shown, the terminal 
' sporangia evidently arose by the transformation of the tips of certain 
branches of the plant. ' 

They are, in fact, very little modified as compared with vegetative 


K.— BOTANY. 179 

parts of the stem. The epidermis and subjacent layers of the sporangial 
wall differ but slightly from the corresponding tissues of the branch, 
while the columella is continuous with the phloem, and resembles it 
in structure. The sporangium has no special stalk, and in some cases 
is forked, like the stem, having evidently been formed when the branch 
was in the act of dichotomy. 

In Rhynia the sporangia are better differentiated, but here also cases 
occur where the spore-bearing region differs little in structure from the 
branch which it terminates. In both genera the spore-containing organ 
is thus nothing but the more or less altered end of a branch, quite 
comparable to the stichidium, which is differentiated in some Red Sea- 
weeds as the receptacle of the tetraspores, while in other Algse of this 
gi'oup the tetraspores are produced in unaltered portions of the thallus. 
In Hornea the fertile branch-ending is less differentiated than in 
Rhynia, and we must be prepared to meet with related forms in which 
the spore-bearing region was not differentiated at all, except for the 
presence of the spores. 

Goebel taught that the sporangium was an organ sui generis, a 
special reproductive structure, which had never arisen from any vege- 
tative part of the plant." His view has been generally accepted, but, 
in the light of the conditions in Ehyniacese, appears to be no longer 
tenable. While the spores may still be described as organs sui generis, 
for there have always been reproductive cells since plants became multi- 
cellular, the sporangium proves to be really a portion of the vegetative 
stem or thallus, which has gradually become specialised as a receptacle 
for the spores. The sporangium thus turns out to be strictly homologous 
with a definite part of the vegetative body of the plant. In these 
remarks I am glad to find myself entirely in accord with the views of 
Kidston and Lang, as stated in their fourth memoir on the Ehynie 

The recent work on the Early Devonian Flora has wide bearings. 
It has long been noticed that among the fossils of that period no typical 
Fern-fronds are found. Those remains which are most suggestive of 
Fern-like habit consist merely of a naked-branched rachis. It used 
to "be assumed that the absence of a lamina might be explained by bad 
preservation. But, as Professor Halle points out, the chief reason for 
condemning the preservation as bad was the fact that a lamina was 
absent ! 

The evidence really seems to indicate that the so-called fronds of 
that age did not possess a leaf -blade. As Professor Halle says : ' In 
the Lower Devonian, finally, we find frond-like structures bearing 
sporangia, but no fronds with developed laminae. One can hardly 
escape the conclusion that the " modified " fertile fronds may represent 
the primitive state in this case and that the flattened pinnules are a 
later development, as suggested by Professor Lignier. '' These naked 

6 ' Vergleichende Entwickelungsgeschichte der Pflanzenorgane.' Schenk's 
Eandhurh der Botanik. Bd. III., Part I., p. 130, 1884. 

* T. G. Halle : Lower Devonian Plants, from Eoragen, in Norway. Stock- 
holm, 1916, p. 33. 


fronds may, in fact, be regarded as the little-differentiated branches of 
a thallus. It is often impossible to say whether we have to do with 
the ramification of a stem or with a frond. Halle even suggests that 
one of his species of Psilophyton, P. Goldschmidtii, may furnish us 
with an intermediate stage between the two, as required by Lignier's 
hypothesis. Plants of the PJiynia type may represent a still 
earlier phase, in which there was no differentiation whatever, but 
merely a branched thallus. It is a curious point that ' the circinate 
vernation of the Fern-fronds is paralleled in the branches of Psilophyton 

The evidence, as at present understood, seems to suggest that, in 
the earlier Devonian Flora, Ferns, properly so called, may not yet 
have been in existence. The predecessors of the Ferns (Lignier's 
' Primofilicinees,' not Arber's ' Primofilices ') were there no doubt, but 
not, so far as we know, the Ferns themselves. Yet it seems that 
highly organised stems of a Gymnospermous type were already present 
at about the same period. Thus the evidence from the older Devonian 
Flora, so far as it goes, materially supports the opinion that the Seed 
Plants cannot have arisen from Ferns, for the line of the Spermophyta 
seems to have been already distinct at a time when true Ferns had not 
yet appeared. 

The idea that the Gymnosperms were derived, through the Pterido- 
sperms, from the Ferns, which I once advocated, must, I think, be 
given up, on grounds which were stated two years ago at the Bourne- 
mouth meeting of the Association. It is safer to regard the Pterido- 
sperms, and therefore the Seed Plants generally, as a distinct stock, 
probably as ancient as any of the recognised phyla of Vascular 
Cryptogams, and derived from some unknown and older source. At 
the same time the striking parallelism between the Pteridosperms and 
the true Fems must be recognised. These views are essentially in 
agreement with those previously expressed by my friend Dr. Kidston. 

I may be permitted to quote in this connection an interesting remark 
made by Professor Paul Bertrand in a letter received last year. He 
was speaking of a strange group of plants of Lower Carboniferous or 
possibly Upper Devonian age, the Cladoxylefe. These plants have a 
complex polystelic structure in both stem and petiole, but seem to be 
quite distinct from the later and better-known polystelic family, 
Medullosese. Professor Bertrand, the chief living authority on the 
Cladoxylese, speaks of them as very primitive types, in which the 
distinction between stem and petiole was still but little marked. Yet 
he considers them as most probably Phanerogams. These views, if 
confirmed, imply that the Phanerogams or Seed Plants started as a 
distinct phylum, quite low down, at a phase when the differentiation 
between stem and leaf was still incomplete. 

Without laying too much stress on an expression of opinion such as 
Professor Bertrand 's, I believe the present evidence is in harmony 
with the view he suggests. The Spermophytes. as it seems, have been 
an independent class of plants from very early times ; they are not 
to be derived from the Vascular Cryptogams, as we have hitherto 
conceived them, but are of the same standing with them, having sprung 

K.— BOTANY. 181 

fi'om some long-extinct stock, comparable, perhaps, to Kidston's and 
Lang's Psilophytales, though not necessai'ily on the same line. 

The significance of the Pteridosperms has perhaps been somewhat 
misunderstood. It now seems that they do not, as some of us once 
imagined, indicate the descent of the Seed Plants from Ferns, but 
rather show that the Seed Plants passed through a Fern-like phase; 
they ran a parallel course with the true cryptogamic Ferns, and, like 
them, sprang fi'om some quite early race of land plants, such as Ehynie 
has revealed to us. But the phylum was never any more Fern-like 
than the Pteridosperms themselves. This, at least, is the view which 
now suggests itself, but our knowledge is still very meagre. We 
especially want to know more about the Devonian Spermophyta, for 
at present we have scarcely any evidence even of the existence of seeds 
in any Devonian Flora. Such data as we possess are all anatomical, 
and a disciple of Williamson must be on his guard against the risk 
of repeating the old mistake of the Brongniartian school. 

Having ventured so far into speculative regions, it may be well to 
return foi' a moment to the facts, and ask to what extent our knowledge 
of the Fern-like Seed Plants has advanced since the original discoveries 
of 1903-1906. I fear that there is not very much to record. We now 
have one or two additional species of Neuropteris bearing seeds, and 
also the probable seed of Heterangium. Further, we have various 
indications of the characters of the pollen-bearing organs in some 
Pteridosperm genera, though the documents, being mostly in the form 
of impressions, are deficient in detail. Such new information as has 
come to hand confirms in a satisfactory manner our former conclusions, 
but does little to extend them. 

On the anatomical side there has been more liveliness. We now 
know quite a number of Palasozoic plants, of varied structure, which 
have something in common with the better-established Pteridosperm 
families, Lyginopterideas and MeduUosese, while they certainly have 
nothing to do with Lycopods, Horsetails, or Sphenophylls. We there- 
fore call them Cycadofilices or Pteridosperms. I prefer to use one name 
for them all and incline to the latter, for, while the plants are generally 
more or less Fern-like in structure, many of them show no special 
resemblance to Cycads. 

At present we know of no fewer than eight families, based mainly on 
anatomical cliaracters, which we provisionally include under Pterido- 
sperms : 

1. The familiar Lyginoptei'ideas (Lower and Upper Carboniferous). 

2. The Blietinang'mm family, founded on Dr. Goi-don's new genus 
(Lower Carboniferous). 

3. The MegaloxylefB, discovered by Prof. Seward (Upper 

4. The Calamopityeae, recently enriched by Dr. Kidston with a new 
genus, besides new species (Lower Carboniferous). 

5. The Stenomyelon family, another of Dr. Kidston's discoveries, 
described by him in conjunction with Gwynne-Vaughan (Lower 


6. The Protopitys type, a singularly isolated one, elucidated by 
Solms-Laubach (Lower Carboniferous). The above are all monostelic. 
Next come the two essentially polystelic groups : 

7. Cladoxylese, already mentioned, a somewhat mysterious race, of 
Lower Carboniferous or possibly even Upper Devonian age. 

8. The well-known Medulloseae (Upper Carboniferous). 

It is noticeable that five of these families are Lower Carboniferous 
(or possibly, in certain instances, older) ; one (Lyginopteridese) includes 
both Lower and Upper Carboniferous members, while two (Megaloxylese 
and Medulloseae) are at present known only from the Upper 

Of the eight families in question there are only two (Lyginopterideae 
and Medulloseae), in which we have any evidence as to the fructification. 
The other six are known only by their vegetative and mostly by their 
anatomical features. Of these the Protopityeae and the Cladoxylese 
are the most isolated, differing, for example, in the structure of their 
tracheides from the other families. There seems to be no reasonable 
doubt that the famiUes represented by Lyginopteris, Rhetinangium, 
Megaloxylon, Calamopitys, Stenomyelon, and Medullosa, are related, 
and belong to one and the same main phylum. Considering that 
members of two widely separated families in this series are known 
to have borne highly organised seeds, there is a strong presumption 
that the whole set were reproduced by seeds of some sort. In the 
case of the two families Protopitye^ and Cladoxyleae the marks of 
affinity are less obvious, but even here there is more in common with 
the type-families Lyginopterideae and Medulloseae than with any other 

I think then that we are justified, in the present very imperfect state 
of our knowledge, in provisionally keeping all these families together, 
as probably, in some wide sense, Pteridosperms. On this view, they 
formed a distinct, extensive, and varied class of plants, already very well 
developed in Lower Carboniferous times, and no doubt going back to 
the Upper Devonian, though here the available evidence is scanty. 

The question may be asked : Did all the Seed-plants pass through 
the Pteridosperm phase, or were there other parallel lines of descent? 
Some recent work, no doubt, tends to link up the Cordaitales with the 
Pteridosperms. Mesoxylon, for example, is merely a Cordaites with 
centripetal wood in the stem, a character which strongly suggests an 
affinity with the Lyginopteris or Calamopitys type. In fact, some 
members of the Calamopityeae (Zalessky's Eristophyton) show a certain 
approach to Cordaitales. 

A more striking point is that no marked distinction has been found 
between the seeds of Pteridosperms and those of Cordaitales. The 
general community of seed-structure is strong evidence of close affinity 
and of a common stock. 

There seems to be no proof that the family Cordaiteae existed as 
such in Devonian times; we do not know much about them even 
in the Lower Carboniferous ; the family is typically Upper Carboniferous 
and Permian. On the other hand, the Pitys family, which we include 
in the wider group Cordaitales, is as old as any known Pteridosperm ; 



K.-BOTANY. 183 

Zalessky's genus Callixylon, an evident ally of Pitys, is of Upper 
Devonian age. The affinities of the still more ancient Palaopitys 
Milleri have not yet been determined. 

The position of the Pityese hangs in the balance, at least until 
Dr. Gordon's new results are fully placed before us. From his 
discovery of the peculiar foliage and leaf-traces as well as from the 
stem-structure it appears that the Pityese form a very distinct group, 
farther from the other Cordaitales than we once supposed, and not 
much like any of the Pteridosperms either. At any rate, we may 
suppose that the Pityeee branched off from the common stock low 
down, while the PoroxyleiB and Cordaitese may have been of later 
origin. For the present, however, one may be content to regard the 
early Spermophytes as constituting a single main phylum. Since 
these words were written, however, Dr. Margaret Benson has main- 
tained a contrary view, ai'guing that the Coi'daitales, Ginkgoales, and 
Conifers represent a wholly distinct stock, more allied to the Sphenopsida 
than to the Fern-like* races. The independence of this line has also 
been maintained by Prof. Chambeidain * and discussed by Pi'of. 

On our hypothesis, the Upper Palaeozoic phyla, with which we have 
to reckon, are the Pteridosperms (representing the early phase 
of the Seed-plants), the Ferns, the Sphenophylls, the Equisetales, and 
the Lycopods. These five lines were probably all well differentiated 
in the Upper Devonian Flora ; the only doubt concerns the Equisetales, 
which seem not to be known with certainty before the Lower Car- 
boniferous, but they were so well developed then that they must have 
existed earlier. 

When we get back to the Middle and Lower Devonian the case 
is completely altered. Not one of the five phyla is here clearly 
represented, unless it be the Spermophyta ; for these we have the 
evidence of apparently Gymnosperm-like stems. Thus the field is 
left absolutely open to speculation. We may imagine, either that the 
various phyla converged in some early vascular stock (illustrated by 
the Psilophy tales), or that they ran back in parallel lines to independent 
origins among the transmigi-ant Algfe and, perhaps further still, to 
separate races of purely marine plants. Both views are represented 
in the publications of recent authors. 

Dr. Arber, in his ' Devonian Floras,' maintained the early 
existence of three distinct lines of descent : the Sphenopsida, 
Pteropsida, and Lycopsida. In agi'eement with the present writer, 
he included the Equisetales in the Sphenopsida. Each of the three 
lines is described as descended from Thallophytic Algae of a disfmct 
type. Thus Arber's view was decidedly polyphyletic. It must, how- 
ever, be borne in mind that the supposed ancestral ' Algae ' were 
plants in which he expected to find ' some form of primitive vascular 
system, at least as far advanced as in Psilophyton ' (I.e., p. 74). 

* ' The Grouping of Vascular Plants,' New Phytologist, June 30, 1921. 

' ' The Living Cycads and the Phylogeny of Seed Plants.' American 
Jourttal of Botany, vol. 7, 1920. 

1" B. Sahni, ' On the Structure and Affinities of Acmopyle Pancheri.' Phil. 
Trans. B. Soc, Ser. B., vol. 210, 1920. 


Arber derived the Sphenopsida from Algse-bearing whorled branches 
of limited growth, converted into leaves, wliich were originally and 
always microphyllous. The Pteropsida, with which he associated his 
Palseophyllales {Psygmophyllumi with foliage like the Maiden-hair tree), 
were descended from Algae in which the branches were large, numerous, 
scattered, and not whorled, eventually metamorphosed to megaphyllous 
leaves. The Lycopsida, on the other hand, were derived from Algse 
in which the usually dichotomous axis bore emergences, metamorphosed 
to microphyllous leaves. 

Thus, as regards the origin of the leaf, Arber was in general agree- 
ment with Lignier, while he differed from the French author in the 
important point that he did not derive the Sphenopsida from the 
Fern-stock, but kept them as an independent line. 

A remarkable feature in Arber 's hypothesis is his treatment of the 
Psilotales. He made this problematic family ' a quite independent 
race, also of Algal origin, which appeared on the scene long after the 
other races . . . possibly in Mesozoic times or even later ' (p. 87). 
Thus he rejected both the connection with Psilophytales, suggested by 
Kidston and Lang, and the affinity with Sphenopsida, once maintained 
by the present writer. 

We thus see that, on Arber's view, there were altogether four 
distinct lines of descent, running back independently to ' Thallophytic 

Dr. Church, from quite a different point of view, arrives at some- 
what similar conclusions, but he goes further. He says : ' Speaking 
generally, it appears safer to regard a "race" or " phylum " as the 
expression of a group of organisms which derived their special 
attributes from the equipment of a preceding epoch, if not in one still 
further back. Thus all the main lines of what is now Land Flora must 
have been differentiated in the Benthic Epoch of the sea (i.e. as algal 
lines), as all algal lines were differentiated in the Plankton phase. The 
possibility is not invalidated that existing groups of Land Flora may 
trace back their special line of progression to the flagellated life of the 
sea, wholly independently of one another (Pteridophyta). ' (' Thalassio- 
phyta,' p. 41.) 

Taking the Lycopods and Ferns as an example, and arguing from 
their different types of flagellated spermatozoids, Dr. Chm^ch states : 
' It appears impossible to avoid the conclusion that the Lycopod phyla 
only merge with those of the Filicinese in a distant Plankton phase, 
even beyond an independent origin as benthic sea-weeds' (Z.c.,p. 82). 
Thus the idea of independent parallel lines of descent is carried to its 
extreme limit. ' Each phylum goes back the whole way, without any 
connection with anything else.' Of course, this thorough-going poly- 
phyletic conception is involved in the doctrine already mentioned — that 
morphological differentiation was attained in the sea before the 

I have cited Dr. Arber and Dr. Ohiirch as independent representa- 
tives, approaching the question from quite different sides, of the poly- 
phyletic or parallel-phyla hypothesis. The opposite view, of convergent 
monophyletic races, is also well supported. Some reference has already 

K.— BOTANY. 1 H5 

been made to Professor Halle's position. Alter speaking of the possible 
relation of the Psilophylon type to Lycopods on the one hand and Ferns 
on the other, he adds : ' From this point of view the whole pteridophytic 
stock would be monophyletic, the Lycopsida and the Pteropsida being 
derived from a common form already vascular. It would not thus be 
necessary to assume a parallel evolution of a similar vascular system 
along two different lines.' (Halle, I.e., p. 89.) 

He does not refer to the Articulatse, of which, it is true, there are 
only the most doubtful indications in the Lower Devonian rocks. Halle, 
too, accepts Ligniei''s view of the twofold origin of the leaf, from 
emergences in the Lycopsida, from thallus-branches in the Pteropsida. 

Kidston and Lang, in the light of their Rhynie discoveries, regard 
Halle's survey as ' a fair statement of the present bearing of the imper- 
fectly known facts. ' They lay great stress on the synthetic nature of 
their genus ARlcro.rylon, which they say ' appears to agree with Psilo- 
phyton in possessing in a generalised and archaic form characters that 
are definitely specialised in the Psilotales, Lycopodiales, and Filicales.' 
They add : ' The Geological age and succession of the Early Devonian 
plants are, on the whole, consistent with the origin of the various 
gi'oups of Vascular Cryptogams from a common source. ^^ "We have 
already referred to the Bryophytic features, which have been recognised 
in the Ehyniaceae. Kidston and Lang make use of these to extend their 
tentative conclusions to the Bryophyta. In concluding their third 
memoir they say : ' In Rhynia and Hornea we have revealed to us a 
much simpler type of Vascular Cryptogam than any with which we 
were previously acquainted. This type suggests the convergence of 
Pteridophyta and Bryophyta backwards to an Algal stock. The know- 
ledge of AsterO'xylon confirms and enriches our conception of a more 
complex but archaic type of the Vascular Cryptogams, which supports 
the idea of the divergence of the great classes of Pteridophyta from a 
common type, and links this on to the simpler Rhyniacese ' (I.e., 
p. 675.) The monophyletic view, though stated with appropriate caution, 
could not be more clearly expressed. It is fully maintained in these 
authors' later statements. 

It is evidently impossible to decide between the two theories in 
the present state of our knowledge; we are now only beginning to 
acquire some conception of the vegetation of Early Devonian times. The 
discovery, however, of the existence at that period of an unexpectedly 
simple race of vascular plants to some extent favours a monophyletic 
interpretation, even though we accept with some reserve the wonderful 
svnthesis of characters which Asteroxylou appears to exhibit. To some 
minds, too, the important points in which all existing Pteridophyta, how- 
ever diverse, agree will still suggest a common origin not too remote. 
Among such common characters may be mentioned the alternation of 
generations with the sporophyte predominant ; the development both of 
the spores and the sexual organs; and the histology, especially of the 

11 On Old Red Snnd.'^torie PImif.t. .^Jiowhig strurture, from the Tfhyme Chert. 

Bed, Part III., p. 673. In Part IV. this conclusion is further emphasised, 

and it is supgested that the Rhyniacere are really too simple morphologically 
to suit the views of either Lignier or Church. 

1921 P 


vascular system and the stomata. The community of reproductive 
phenomena is explained by Dr. Church on the principle that repi'oductive 
phases are inevitable and are therefore the same in all phyla. A like 
explanation may to a certain extent be applicable to somatic features, 
some of which may be the necessary consequences of the sub-aerial trans- 
migration. Thus a polyphyletic hypothesis may no doubt be justified, 
but it urgently needs to be supported by further evidence of the actual 
existence of separate stocks among the earliest available records of a 
Land Flora. 

The study of Fossil Botany has led to results of the utmost 
importance, in widening our view of the Vegetable Kingdom and helping 
to complete the natural system, to use Solms-Laubach"s old phrase 
once more. One need only mention the Mesozoic Cycadophytes, th(.' 
Cordaitales, the Pteridosperms, the Palaeozoic Lycopods and Equise- 
tales, the Sphenophylls, and now, most striking of all, the Psilo- 
phytales, to recall how much has been gained. We have indeed a wealth 
of accumulated facts, but from the point of view of the Theory of 
Descent thev raise more questions than they solve. In this address I 
have briefly touched on some of the most general and most speculative 
problems in the hope of giving an opening for discussion. It might 
have been more profitable to deal in detail with definite facts of 
observation, but recent discoveries have brought us face to face with the 
great questions of descent among plants. However imperfect our data 
may be, both as regards the method and the course of evolution, the 
problems suggested, nevertheless, make urgent claims on our attention. 




Sir henry IIADOW, C.B.E., D.Mus., 


Some years jgo we were sitting round tlie fire in an Oxtoril Comnion 
Kooni." The Dean, who liad tlie evening paper, let Iiis eye fall upon 
a paragraph of musical criticism, and read it aloud in that tone of 
polished irony which we all knew to be his accustomed mark of 
disajiproval. It was a harmless paragraph and contained somewhere 
an innocent technicality — I think 'sub-mediant.' When ho had 
liiiished, ho looked across to the eminent scholar by the fireside and 
said, 'Of course, you know what a " sub-mediant " is? ' To which 
came the answer, slow, meditating and pious, ' GckI forbid! ' 

That is fairly typical of the attitude adopted in those days by 
scholarhip and 'litci'ary culture toward the sister art. There were, 
no doubt, at Oxford and elsewhere, some notable exceptions, but in 
general the erudite world of England regarded music as something 
outside the scholar's province : something to be enjoyed as a recreation 
or a pastime, something even to be encouraged with generous rewards 
and good-humoured praise, as the Squire might dismiss the mummers 
on Christmas Eve; but as far as any sympathy or insight was con- 
cerned there had been very little progress since the time when, as Byron 

' Jolin Bull, with ready Hand, 
Applauds the strain he cannot understand. ' 

Applause, no doubt, as much as you will — artists live on applause — 
but as for understanding or even supposing that there was anything 
to be understood — ' God forbid! ' 

Two other remarkable pieces of evidence may be adduced from 
n;ore recent years. The Home University Library, issued by an 
enterprising publisher and controlled by a body of very distinguished 
editors, set out to supply a series of monographs on all subjects in 
which an intelligent I'eader could take an interest; science, history, 
poetry, politics, foreign travel — all were to be included, nothing human 
was to be alien from it. When, at the completion of the hundredth 
volume, it was pointed out that there had been no book on Music 
or on any subject in which Music could enter, the reply was that this 
omission was intentional for fear there should be no readers. Music 
was not regarded as one among the hundred subjects most likely to 
engage a reader's attention. There is a similar omission from the 
Cambridge History of Literature, that monumental work — cere 
pcrenvius — which has become indispensable to cveiy scholar of our 


language or our letters. In it we have criticisms of books of almost 
every conceivable variety of topic, there is even sympathetic mention 
of books on pugilism, but there is no account of any books on 
Music. To emphasise the omission, Burney and Hawkins are both 
noticed, one as the father of Madame d'Arblay, the other as a rather 
eccentric member of Johnson's circle, but there is nothing to indicate 
that they wrote two great historical works which are still read with 
pleasure and consulted with profit. Everyone who has looked into the 
matter will have observed this same neglect in bibliographies and 
dictionaries, and other works of reference. Information about Music 
and IMusical Literature must be sought as a rule in specialised volumes 
intended for nmsicians alone. It shares, no doubt, the all-embracing 
hospitality of the Encyclopsedia Britannica. but it has not j'et won 
citizenship in the daily life and civilisation of our people. 

This is clearly an error, the perpetration of \\hich is a serious loss 
to the country at large. Music is not onlj^ a source of noble pleasure 
- — everyone admits that, at any rate in theory — it is a form of intellectual 
and spiritual trainmg with which we really cannot afford to dispense. 
It is not merely a matter of pleasing the ear with successions of 
beautiful sound or stirring the emotions with vibrating tone and poignant 
rhythm. It is just as truly a language as French or Latin. It is just 
as truly a form of mental discipline as any subject in Science or 
Mathematics. That it can be studied with much more personal enjoy- 
ment than some of its compeers may perhaps be maintained ; though 
on this score there is very little difference between it and literature ; 
but even if that be granted, it is a very peevish asceticism which would, 
for this reason, depreciate its value in our educational system. The 
notes in a perfect melody follow each other by as sure logical necessity 
as do the words in a line of Shakespeare. They are not only beautiful ; 
they not only appeal to the discerning ear by a thousand tones and 
associations; they have also an inherent significance, which in music, as 
in poetry, is a sure criterion of the difference between good art and 

No doubt there is here one salient difference between the two arts. 
In language a part at any rate of the significance depends upon the 
relation between the thing said and an external reality which it 
expresses or depicts; in music the whole significance is intrinsic, deter- 
mined by the laws of its own form and the impulse of its own spirit. 
But though the kinds of significance are different, the fact of signifi- 
cance is equally present in both arts, and here I would venture to 
call in question two opinions, both of which seem to me entirely and 
fatally erroneous. One, which T saw a few days ago, in a volume of 
essays (and which, indeed, a reader of literary criticism may see almost 
once a week), is that poetry appeals to the intelligence and music to 
the emotions. The answer to this is that if poetry is to be summed 
up as an appeal to the intelligence, then Euclid was a very great poet ; 
and if music has no further function than to appeal to the emotions, 
then it is nothing better than melodious nonsense. The other of the 
two is that any succession of notes constitutes a melody and that 
of such melodies intelligible music can be made up. The answer to 



this is that such a sequence of notes can no more make a melody than 
a sequence of words makes a sentence. Everything depends on 
whether tlie words do or do not carry a meaning. Suppose, for 
instance, I wrote a sonnet of which the last line sliould run 

' And pLU'ple decks the fragrant empyrean,' 

I should liave produced a sequence of quite admirable words, but 
it would not be a line of poetry. In just the same way the difference 
between a melody of Beethoven and the types of melody which once 
fell under the censure of Sir Hugh Allen is very largely that the melody 
of Beethoven has a noble meaning, and that the bad tunes of the streets 
have either an ignoble meaning or none at all. It may frankly be 
admitted that a vast proportion of what is printed and sold as music 
is far below this criterion; it is meaningless and therefore worthless. 
But if the advocates of literature or of the representative arts feel any 
inclination to despise music on this score they may be recommended, 
before pronouncing judgment, to look at home. The present generation 
of English readers has bought 130,000 copies of ' The Young Visitei's,' 
the last generation made the fortune of Mrs. Henry Wood, its prede- 
cessor of Martin Tupjier, and so the tradition stretches back through 
T. H. Bayly, Eobert Montgomery, and a whole series of false idols 
surfeited with undiscriminating incense. The state of pictorial art in 
this country may be attested by some of our print shops, many of our 
private collections, and most of our municipal galleries. Indeed, it is 
not from the poet or the artist that one usually hears this argument. 
They know too well of what slender glass their houses are built. In all 
arts alike the work which endures is the work which appeals to the 
whole nature of man, spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and of this 
vliere is plenty in music to give full justification to its claim. 

Here an objection may be lodged — it may be said that this is merely 
special pleading, that music would not have been neglected unless it 
luul deserved neglect; and in this there is a great measure of truth. 
The case for music has been badly presented ; a great many hearers 
who really understand it are no more conscious of the fact than 
M. Jourdain knew that he was talking prose, and the vast majority who 
accept it without understanding do so because they vastly overrate its 
difficulties and are repelled by some unnecessary formalities in its 

A good many treatises on music correspond not to the writings of 
literary critics, but to elementary school books on grammar; they are 
concerned with aljihabets and case endings and rules of syntax. The 
reader who takes tliom in hand is likely to fling them aside with the same 
impatience with which Montaigne dismissed the ' trash-names of 
grammar ' which learned men had assigned to ' the tittle-tattle of his 
chambermaid.' It is not that the technical terms in music are any 
worse than those in other arts and sciences ; they are less aggressive 
than the botanical description of a rose, and shorter by several syllables 
than the usual designation of a chemical compound, but they somehow 
seem to have occupied more of the field. They have forced themselves 
needlessly upon our attention ; they have correspondingly led people to 


believe that all musical criticism springs fi'oin their tangled roots. And 
to this may be added a real difficulty which music specially has to 
confront. Our ordinary language has been so framed with reference 
to external nature and the life of man that the critic of literature or 
painting has a far easier task than the critic of musical style or musical 
structure. Music is equally philosophical in basis, but its philosophy is, 
in the nature of the case, if not more penetrating than that of the poet, 
a little more abstract in form. Compare, for instance, a play of Shake- 
speare with a symphony of Beethoven. The comparison is really extra- 
ordinarily close ; there is the same kind of architectonic power in the 
construction; there are the same points of interest and adventure; there 
is the same high and noble emotion; there is the same humour; there 
is even, allowing for the difference of medium, the same characterisa- 
tion. But when Mr. Bradley analyses for us a Shakespeare play, there 
are a thousand points on which he can illustrate his meaning in words 
and phrases which directly relate his experience to human life. When 
Sir George Grove analyses a symphony of Beethoven, he is hard put to 
it to find any verbal analogues at all ; when they do come they hai'dly 
seem more convincing than metaphors, and almost every point in his 
admirable account has to be illustrated and enforced by musical examples 
which the majority of people persistently declare themselves unable to 
read. The result is that the musical critic has often to substitut-e 
emphasis for persuasion, and has tended to dogmatise — not because 
he is unsure about his convictions (though this is a common basis of 
dogmatism), but because the difficulty of expressing them drives him 
to an unusual trenchancy. 

Another reason for the prevalent error is that musical history has 
been far too sharply separated from the general history of civilisation. 
This, again, is a matter of proportion; the English Histories of my 
■boyhood were mainly occupied with battles and treaties, and paid very 
little attention to letters or science or discovery, but at worst they have 
nothing to show parallel to Lord Macaulay's great History of England, 
which in an exhaustive account of the reign of James 11. finds no room 
for the mention of Purcell. The result is again the loss of human 
interest, which tends to relegate music into a remote and abstract world 
wiiich is far away from men's business and bosoms. Professor Dowden 
once wrote a very remarkable essay about the influence of tlie Frencli 
Revolution on English literature ; an essay of ecpial interest and im- 
portance niiglit be written about its inHuence on Viennese music. And 
indeed we are coming more and more to see that the whole artistic 
expression of the people is an index of its national character and a 
R>inptoni of its national health. 

It is not, therefore, because music is unworthy of a place in our 
intellectual life that we have hitherto left it so much on one side. 
^Ye have been frequently reminded of late — and we cannot be reminded 
too often — that the one supreme period of English music, the period in 
which our composers stoo<:l in the forefront of the whole world, is 
the period which produced the great Elizabethan seamen and the great 
Elizabethan dramatists; the period in which Drake circumnavigated 
the world and Shakespeare the soul of man; and, what is more, that 


our madrigal writers and Church writers, and writers for the Virginals 
.ind the Lute, were not isolated phenomena, hi'ouglit by some unexpected 
rrovidence into a country untifc to receive them ; they were the natural 
outgrowth of a civilisation which accepted music as an essential part 
ot a man's upbringing and nurture. In the days of Elizabeth the 
whole of England was full of music, as Shakespeare's plays are full 
of it, and we are not so much better than our Elizabethan ancestors 
that we can afford to disregard what they claimed as one of the most 
valuable parts of tlieir education. 

It has been said that complaints against an abuse have usually been 
most urgent at the time when the abuse is in the natural course of 
bemg redressed, and this is certainly true of the strictures which have 
been made in the earlier part of this paper. During the last twenty 
years an extraordinary change has taken place in the part assigned 
to music in our civilised life. The reform is only just at its beginning, 
but it has as a matter of fact begun, and though we may be like 
Caesar and ' think nought done while aught remains to do,' we can, 
at any rate, see round us enough signs of progress to go forward with 
considerable encouragement. For one thing, the study of music no 
longer means, as it did a generation ago, a reluctant drill in the 
elementary practice of a musical instrument. We are learning the 
wisdom of confining our executants to those who show some taste or 
aptitude for performance, and have come to see that confining the 
study of music to them is just as irrational as it would be if we 
confined the study of literature to students who aimed at being poets 
or actors. By all means develop and encourage our specialised schools 
of music. They have a great tradition ; they have done and are still 
donig magnificent work, and one of the results which they have already 
produced is that we are no longer obliged to look to our Continental 
neighbours for executive and creative artists, that our own players 
and singers and our own composers can hold their own against any 
rival in the world. But still more important, and at any rate more 
germane to this present paper, is the recognition of music as an essen- 
tial part of that liberal education which we are endeavouring to bestow 
upon all citizens throughout the country, and it is in this that the 
most remarkable advance is now being made. Our public schools, 
which half a century ago treated music as an unpopular alternative 
to cricket, have now begun to find a place for it, if not always in the 
curriculum, at any rate in the corporate life. The old d.ays of the 
visiting music master, shy, embarrassed, probably a foreigner, ill at 
ease in Common Room, hardly counting as a member of the staff, have 
now been replaced by a more genial and hospitable system, by which 
tiie school music is placed in the hands of a well-educated and genial 
colleague who can mix with his fellows on equal terms and is as sure 
of a welcome as any among them. The school concerts are more 
numerous and of far higher quality than they were in the old days, 
and in many schools they are prefaced by explanatory lectures on the 
more elaborate or recondite works performed. Most of all, perhaps, 
is the change noticeable at Oxford and Cambridge, which have become 
radiating centres of musical activity and are sending out every year 


trained men to carry on their tradition through every corner of the 
land. Yet hardly less in importance is the action which has recently 
been taken by some county and municipal authorities, who have 
appointed special Directors of Music to organise the work for all the 
schools in their area. The improvement already effected by this means 
is very remarkable, and will be the more conspicuous still as the move- 
ment spreads and advances. 

What, then, it may be asked, further remains for us to do? The 
answer may be suggested on the following lines: First, that music 
should be recognised in our formal education of school and college; 
that it should be given a place in the cm-riculuni and full recognition 
in the examination system. It is likely that this proposal will at 
once arouse an outcry, on the ground that it is adding a new subject 
to ail already overloaded scheme. But, in the first place, I have never 
known any teacher complain of overloading in regard to his particular 
subject; and, in the second place, I would suggest that music for 
the whole school should consist of little more than class singing and 
an occasional concert or lecture, and that those who have the taste 
and aptitude for pursuing its serious study should do so in substitution 
for some other subject. The study of a great composer might be made 
of as much educational value as that of a great poet. On the other 
side, the qualities of abstract thinking and of mental construction 
implied in the study of musical form are closely analogous to those of 
our natural sciences, and might well be made of the same educational 
value. It should be quite possible to draw up a syllabus for music 
which would fit into the existing schemes of school and college work, 
and which would neither encourage faddists, nor excuse idlers, nor 
produce that lamentable class of people, not yet quite extinct, who 
talk emotionally about music without any understanding. Secondly, 
there should be a great improvement in the place of music in our 
libraries. Every public library in the country and, if possible, every 
school and University library should contain a musical department 
which includes not only the standard classical compositions, but the 
first-rate books on musical testhetics and criticism. There are a great 
many more of such books than is commonly supposed. Almost every 
civilised nation has contributed to them, and they range from enter- 
taining volumes of ligbt essays to such profound philosophical treatises 
as Schopenhauer's book on 'The Platonic Idea.' At present an 
allusion to music in average society would tend to cut the conversation 
down to the roots ; half the company would feel nervous and uncom- 
fortable, half apprehensive of a dull or pontifical lecture. It ought to 
be just as possible for people to be well read in music and interested 
in communicating their ideas about it as they are at present in ordinary 
civilised society over questions of literature or the representative arts. 
And this leads to a third point — that the ordinary educated man ought 
to be trained to read music. The script, though it is not always very 
rational, is not unduly difficult, and its mastery unlocks the door of 
a new literature. A very great many o£ us have only rare and infrequent 
opportunities of hearing the best music. We have no means of refreshing 
our memories between recurrent performances, and we therefore lose 


a great deal of the effect which they produce. If we learn to read 
(by which I do not mean to sing or play at sight, but to read silently 
as one reads a play or a novel) we have added another valuable resource 
to our intellectual life. Lastly, and as corollary to all these, we 
all of us need to simplify our attitude towards music. One result which 
follows from the uncertainty of its position is that it has not yet found 
its proper bearings. People who have any musical gifts are a little 
inclined unduly to stress them, because they have a misgiving that 
tlieir neighbours do not rate music sufficiently high. The outside world, 
which would be very glad to understand more about music, but regai^ds 
il. as a kind of hieroglyphic or sacerdotal secret, which the profane may 
not penetrate, is equally reticent because it is afraid to put forward 
an opinion in the presence of the expert. We want really to pool our 
knowledge, to concentrate our interests, to develop on this side, as 
we have on so many others, a sense of comradeship and co-operation, 
and this can only be done if we are all made free of the company ; 
if our musical education is such that we can meet each other as frankly 
and openly in this field as educated men are accustomed to do in the 
discussion of science or poetry. And this we can only do if music is 
enfranchised in our educational system, if it takes its assured place 
in the community and is invested with the full rights of intellectual 



C. S. OEWIN, M.A., 


For the third year in succession tlie University of Oxford has been 
honoured by the selection of one of its resident members for the office 
of President of the Agricultural Section of the British Association, 
and on the occasion of the Edinburgh Meeting it may be of interest 
to recall that historically, at all events, the study of Agriculture and 
Eural Economy at Oxford takes second place to no university with 
the single exception of Edinburgh. I am not a scientist in the 
commonly accepted sense of the word, and nothing but my deep con- 
viction of the need for wider recognition of the importance of the 
study of economics in connection with agricultural research work 
could have overcome my reluctance to assume an office in which I 
have been preceded by such a long line of distinguished men. 

It is now about five-and-twenty years since research and educational 
work in agriculture began to be developed seriously in this country. 
Since that date a very great deal of effort has been expended in investi- 
gating the forces by which )3lant and animal life are controlled, and 
to bring natural science to bear in every way upon the problems of 
food production. Work along these lines has been productive of most 
valuable results to the farmer; but at the same time the fact has been 
overlooked that, when all is said, farming is a business, and if it is to 
succeed as such it must be carried on with a clear regard for the 
economic forces which control the industry. So, whilst desiring 
notTiing but the fullest recognition of work in the fields of natural 
science applied to the investigation of farming problems, I must express 
without any qualification tlie view that the equal importance of the 
study of these economic forces has never been adequately recognised. 
Educational and research work in agriculture whicli takes no account 
of flie dominant importance of economics must always be ill-balanced 
and incomplete, for farming business requires for its proper control a 
consideration of human relationships, of markets, of transport, and of 
many other matters which should come within the purview of the 
economist, as well as, or even more than, a corisideration of questions 
regarding the control of plant and animal growth with which the 
scientist, in the limited sense of the name, is concerned. No one 
could wish to deny the need for the close and continual study of the 
soil and the means by which it can he made to produce more abundantly ; 


no one could deny the need lor researcli work in problems of animal 
and plant life. But the main concern of the farmer is to know not 
so much that which he can grow and how best to grow it as that which 
he can sell and how to sell it at a profit. Given the necessary capital 
ami labour, conditions may be contrived under which any soil may 
be made to pi'oduce any crop ; but the wisdom or otherwise of embark- 
ing upon any particular form of production can be determined only 
by a study of economic forces. In Bedfordshire, for example, con- 
siderable areas of very moderate land are met with given up to a most 
intensive form of agriculture; but land equally suitable for a similar 
form of farming may be met with in many other parts of the country 
which is producing not a tenth part of the value in food products nor 
employing a tenth part of the capital and labour, whilst at the same 
time the systems under which it is farmed are fully justified by the 
results. The reason of the difference, as doubtless everyone reaUses, 
is that the land in the former case is so situated that it has access, 
in the first place, to supplies of organic manures on an abundant 
scale and at a cheap price, and, in the second place, to markets crying 
out for its produce, whilst one or both of these facilities are denied to 
the other areas. In the Chilterns district of Oxfordshire farming a 
generation ago was mainly directed to the production of corn and meat, 
and nothing that has arisen out of the work of the investigators along 
lines of natural science would have called for any radical changes in 
agricultural policy on these soils. But economic forces, inexorable in 
their effect, have brought about a revolution, and arable land pi'eviously 
under corn and sheep is now laid down to grass or occupied with 
fodder crops for the maintenance of the dairy herds which have replaced 
sheep throughout the area. Again, in the hill districts of England 
and Wales there occur combes and valleys admirably adapted by soil 
and climate to the production of potatoes, and the highlands of Devon- 
shire and Somerset may be cited in illustration. In these places, how- 
ever, in the majority of cases, even though good markets may exist — 
Somerset, for example, imports potatoes — the lack of transport 
facilities makes it impossible for the farmers to produce anything 
which does not go to market on four legs. Coming last to the question 
of human I'elationships, we find that it is possible to organise much 
more intensive forms of agriculture than any of our ov\'n, which would 
be an enormous advantage to a consuming nation like Britain ; examples 
of such are to be met with in varying degrees of intensity in many 
countries. The Chinese, one reads, have increased production per unit 
area to an almost incredible extent, and in a lesser degree a similar 
state of affairs exists in jxirts of France and in Belgium (so often held 
up to us in this country as a model of productive capacity which we 
should strive to emulate). But in all these places the results are only 
achieved by a prodigal use of labour. The nation gains, no doubt, in 
the volume of produce available for its consumption, but the individual 
producer, .deprived under this system of the opportunity to apply his 
manual effort in conjunction with an adequate amount of capital and 
land, is sacrificed to the consumei's advantage, and is driven to spend 
himself, year in and year out, for a reward for his toil which the 


British worker, with so many alternative openings in more profitable 
directions available lor him under our industrial system, would never 
for one moment submit to. Fi'om what I have read, I imagine that 
the fact which drove so many Scottish crofters across the seas was 
much less the selfishness of deer-stalking landlords than the opportunity 
for exchanging a few acres of rocks and heatlier in the Highlands for 
160 acres of the virgin soil of Canada. People only submit to poor 
conditions of life when they have no alternative, and one of the most 
important studies awaiting the investigator of agricultural economics 
is that of the lines on which to develop the industry so as to give the 
worker the biggest reward for his toil. 

These few illustrations may serve to indicate the over-riding import- 
ance of the economic factor in farming just as in any other business. 
It is a common experience in industry that many scientific and tech- 
nical processes are possible which are not profitable, and it is in the 
light of the profit that they leave that all of them must be judged. 

Economic conditions are subject to continual change, and the varia- 
tions may be both sudden and extreme. This makes it the more need- 
ful to be continually recording experience and to examine it for the 
facts that emerge from which to obtain guidance for future policy. 
Much information is required both for national and individual guid- 
ance. Of late years, for example, there has been much advocacy of 
more intensive cultivation of the soil ; it is said that by closer settle- 
ment and more intensive methods the production from the land could 
be much increased. On the other hand, there are those who advocate 
a development of extensive farming as being the only means by which 
to attract capital to the land and to pay the highest wage to the worker. 
Both sides to this controversy can and do produce evidence in support 
of their views, and some figures derived from a survey made by my col- 
league, Mr. J. Pryse Howell, will serve to illustrate both. The total area 
surveyed was 9,390 acres, divided into fifty-two farms of various sizes, 
and the region was selected by reason of the uniformity of the general 
conditions. All available data for each holding were collected, and 
after grouping the farms according to acreage the figures were thrown 
together and averaged for each group, with the following result: — 

Production per Unit of Land and per Unit op Labour from 
Holdings op Various Sizes. 





in " 


a» CD 

l-M u 

a " 




*- a 


I-. (" 

■^ r-l 




6 "" 











S. (1. 




£ s. 








32 10 





168 19 












156 2 







27 2 












28 4 





222 12 



over 250 





26 5 





316 19 


It. will ho noted that the conditions under which the farming is 
carried on in the various groups show no material differences as 
between one group and another, except in the matter of area. There 
is a tendency for rent to fall as the size of the holdings increases, 
hut it is not pronounced, and in one case (Group IV.) the percentage 
of grass land to arable land is considerably liighei' tlian in the rest; but, 
considering the variations which must be expected in the conditions 
jirevailing over any area of fifteen square miles in extent, it may be 
claimed that in respect of altitude, quality of land, and proportion 
of arable to grass the holdings in these five groups are fairly com- 
parable. Taking the results as they stand, the fact emerges that 
employment and production vary inversely with the size of the hold- 
mg, but that the pioduction per man employed varies directly with 
llie size of the holding. Thus, on the one hand, the advocates of 
closer settlement and the intensive methods which must necessarily 
follow if men are to live by the cultivation of small areas of land 
would seem to bo juslilied, in that the results shown by the survey 
nidicate the highest amount of employment and the greatest product- 
\aluc in the smaller groups. On the other hand, the advocates of 
more extensive methods of farming can point to their justification in 
that it is clear that the efficiency of management is greatest in the 
larger groups if the standard of measurement be that of product-value 
per man employed. 

However, it is clear that either party is drawing conclusions from 
incomplete data. The efficiency of any farming system can only be 
judged by an examination of the extent to which all the factors of 
production are utilised and balanced under it. Each of the assump- 
tions made from the figures above ignores entirely the factor of capital. 
Land, labour, and capital are all required for production, and the 
optimum system of farm management is that which utilises all three 
together so as to secure the maximum result from each. If informa- 
tion were available as to the capital utilised in each of the five groups 
n\ the survey it might be found that in the smaller groups labour was 
being wastefully employed, and that an equal number of men working 
on a larger area of land with more capital, in the form of machinery 
equipment, would produce an equal product-value per unit of land 
with a higher rate of output per man employed. Equally it might be 
found that in the larger groups the use of more labour, or a reduction 
in the area of land, might produce the same product-value per man 
with a higher rate of output per unit of land. Obviously there can 
be no absolute answer to the question of what constitutes the most 
economical unit of land for farm production. The quality of land in 
certain cases, and market, transport, and climatic conditions in many 
more, make it impossible to determine even within wide limits the 
size of the holding on which the principal factors of production can 
be emi^loyed with maximum effect. Within similar areas, however, 
and in limited districts, much work -can and should be done by agricul- 
tural economists to collect evidence on this point for the informa- 
tion of all concerned with the administration of land. 

Another matter of the utmost importance to the farmer and to 



the public alike, and one which is crying out for investigation on a 
large scale, is the distribution and marketing of farm produce. Atten- 
tion has been drawn at many times to the discrepancy between the 
price realised by the producer and the price paid by the consumer 
for the same article. In connection with market-garden produce, for 
example, the Departmental Committee on the Settlement or Employ- 
ment on the Land of Discharged Sailors and Soldiers stated in their 
Report (Cd. 8182, 1916) that ' the disparity between the retail prices 
paid for mai-ket-garden produce in the big towns and the small portion 
of those prices received by the growers is utterly indefensible. It 
demonstrates a degree of economic waste which would ruin any other 
industry.' No evidence was published by the Committee as to the 
facts upon which this conclusion was based, but a recent inquiry made 
by the Ministry of Agricultiu'e into the prices prevailing at various stages 
in the distribution of vegetables in London may be quoted in confirma- 
tion of it. Figures were collected to show the amount received by 
the producer, the wholesaler, and the retailers for various classes of 
everyday garden stuff, with results as shown below. 


Wholes aleb's, and Eetaileks' Prices for Market- 
garden Produce, January 1921. 




top grade, 
per 28 lb. 

.V. (I. 








top grade. 


per doz. 

per doz. 

))er doz. 

per cwt. 

.■!. -/. 

.«. d. 

.-■ <l 

.S-. d. 

Producer . 




3 6 







5 6 

Retailers — 

(a) Stalls and barrows 

2 6 





(6) Suburban shops . 


2 6 


— • 


(c) Stores and high- 






18 8 

One has only to glance at the prevailing methods of distribution to 
realise their wastefulness. The street in which I live contains ten 
houses, and each day four uiilk-carts, three bakers' carts, three grocers' 
carts, and two butchers' carts deliver food to them. Twelve men, 
horses, and carts, not to mention a host of errand-boys on foot and 
on cycles, to deliver food to ten families ! While we are content with 
such a loose organisation of distribution as this represents, we must not 
wonder if the prices received by producers seem disproportionate 
to those paid by consumers, particularly when the produce 
partakes of the nature of market-garden stuff, bulky, perishable, and of 
low value. But apart from the question of methods of distribution, 
and the advantages to producer and consumer alike which would accrue 
from some co-operative organisation directed towards the elimination of 
unnecessary retailers who do no real service to either of them, an in- 
vestigation of transport and marketing-costs would show to what extent 
they are being exploited by the distributor. The farmer suffers equally 
with the market-gardener. At the present time I am getting Is. 9d. per 


gallon for milk sold to a middleiuaii from my farm, and for this milk my 
wife is charged 3s. per gallon. I am selling lamb at f .s. 4r/. per pound for 
which she is charged 2s. 6t/. per lb., and if the drought had not upset the 
crop I should be selling potatoes at an equal disparity as between w hole- 
sale and retail prices. Can anyone say whether these figures do or do not 
represent a fair division of total cost as between producer, retailer, and 
consumer? It may be asserted with contidence that no one can speak 
with authority upon the subject. The only figures which we have been 
able to collect at Oxford on the cost of distribution relate to milk, and the 
most recent that we have are those for the year l!)f8. In that year in a 
Midland maimfacturing town we found that the distribution costs of a 
lai-ge producer-retailer were as follows: — 

£ .s. d. 

T ■ f Manual and clerical 1,242 10 2it 

Labour i „ .„-t r. r.? 

[ ........ 497 !)A 

Rent 75 ()' 

Sundry purchases, depreciation, general expenses, &c. . 430 2 1 

Total cost £2,24t 13 1 

Number of gallons of milk distributed .... 112,833 

Cost of distribution per gallon ..... 4-77rf. 

Doubtless the conditions have changed since that year, nor is it 
possible to generalise from a single example; but, nevertheless, the 
figure for the gallon-cost seems to indicate that both farmer and con- 
sumer are suffering in the interests of the distributor, though it is 
impossible to say without further investigation whether the profit 
secured by retailers generally is excessive, or whether the difference 
between distribution cost and the margin out of wlrch it is paid is 
necessary owing to an excessive number of distributors. 

As to the other points named, meat and potatoes, no evidence exists 
at all, and the position with regard to them and also to milk is only 
indicated to emphasise the need for a full investigation of the economics 
of distribution. 

At the present time labou)' problems afford a useful example of the 
need for further investigation of the economic problems of agriculture. 
The agricultural industry has been fortunate in that it has escaped 
the serious labom- troubles which have shaken many other industries so 
badly during the past few years. This has been due in part, no doubt, 
to the closer personal relations which exist between employer and 
employed in agriculture than in other enterprises, and in part to the 
intervention of that often unfairly criticised body, the Agricultural 
Wages Board, but agricultural employers have also to thank the fact 
that agricultural labour is difficult to organise. Much controversy in 
the past would have been avoided, and the possibility of future difficulties 
could be faced with more confidence, if all the facts relating to labour 
had been and were being studied over the country generally. The 
labourer is often blamed for results which are due to the inefficiency 
of the farmer as a manager. When wages were low it may have been 
that the labourer was the cheapest machine, but in proportion as his 
remuneration approaches more nearly to the standard of reward in com- 
peting industries, so will the necessity for making his \\'ork more 


productive be intensifiL'd. Tlie value of the output from the farm per 
man employed is not the only measure by which to gauge the efficiency 
of the management, but is certainly one of primary importance. A man 
with a spade can dig an acre of land in about two weeks at a cost to-day 
of about 4:1. 10s.; a horseman and a pair of horses can plough an acre 
in about a day and a-half at a cost of about 1/. 15s. ; a farm mechanic 
on a tractor can break up an acre in about a quarter of a day, and 
although in the absence of sufficient data the comparison cannot yet be 
completed by reference to the cost of motor ploughing, it is fairly 
safe to suggest that when all the factors are considered — speed, less 
dependence upon atmospheric and soil conditions, as well as actual cost 
— there will be a still further advantage to be derived by investing the 
manual worker with the control of mechanical power. Thus it may be 
that high labour costs to-day are due in many cases less to the ineffi- 
ciency of labour and more to the inefficiency of management. In a 
recent issue of The Times an agricultural writer expressed the view that 
if the means existed for determining the proportion of the net returns 
of agriculture accruing to-day to labour, it would be found that labour 
was taking an excessive toll of farming results. This view is probably 
very generally held, and it affords a good example of the misconcep- 
tions which may and do arise in people's minds in the absence of exact 
information upon which to base their assertions. This happens to be 
one of the questions which have been the subject of investigation at 
Oxford, though only on the small scale that the means at the disposal 
of the University has admitted. An investigation was made before the 
War of the Distribution of the Net Returns of Agriculture as between 
landlord, farmer, and labour. The net returns are calculated from the 
net output, and the net output was ascertained by the method followed 
in the Final Report on the First Census of Production of the United 
Kingdom, 1907 (Cd. 63^0). Under this method the cost of materials 
at the works is deducted from the value of the output at the works, and 
the difference constitutes for any industry the fund from which wages, 
salaries, rent, royalties, rates, taxes, depreciation, advertisement, and 
sales expenses, and all other similar charges, have to be defrayed, as well 
as profits. The same basis of calculation was adopted in the Report of 
the Board of Agriculture and Fisheries on the Agricultural Output of 
Great Britain (Cd. 6277) made in connection with the Census of Pro- 
duction Act, 1906. In applying this measure of net output to the 
agricultural industry the method is to value the farmer's capital at the 
beginning of the year and to add to this figure all live and dea3 stock 
bought during the year, foods, manures, tradesmen's bills, on-cost and 
establishment charges, &c., and to deduct the total from the sales during 
the year added to the valuation of the farmer's capital at the end of the 
year. Only in the case of the workers is their share of this net output 
available as net income. The landlord has to incur a considerable 
expenditure upon the farm in the way of repairs and maintenance, and 
this must come out of his share of the net output. From an inquiry 
conducted by the Land Agents' Society in the year 1909 it appeared 
that about 30 per cent, of the rent received by the landlord is expended 
by him in repairs, insurance, management, and similar payments neces- 



sary to maintain the proj)oi'ty in a condition to produce the rent. The 
I'urnier, too, may have certain expenses to meet not covered by those 
deducted in arriving at the net output, and his share of this figure has 
also to cover some rate of interest on his working capital Ijesides tlie 
reward due to him for the exercise of his managerial functions. Thus, 
in considering the distribution of the profits of agriculture between the 
three interests concerned, it is necessary to distinguish between net 
output as defined in the Census of Production and what may be termed 
the net returns. The net returns are ascertained by deducting from the 
net output any additional expenses of the business not already allowed 
for; a sum repi-esenting about 7 per cent, interest on the farmer's capital 
(this figure being based on current rates for money), and one-third of 
the amount of the rent. 

This method for calculating net returns was apjilied in l'.)13 to six 
farms scattered all over the country and differing from each other in 
almost every way as to systems of management, soil, locality, and so 
forth, and it was found that the proportions accruing to each of the three 
interests varied hardly at all, and that it would be safe to say that 20 per 
cent, of the total was going to the landlord, 40 per cent, to the farmer, 
and 40 per cent, to labour. Owing to the disorganisation of the work 
arising out of the War it was not possible to carry on the investigation 
on each of these six farms, but it was continued in connection with one 
of them down to the year 1920. This farm may fairly be described as 
typical of ' average to rather indifferent ' conditions. It was a tenant- 
farm, about a thousand acres in extent, commanding a rent of less than 
11. per acre, about three-quarters arable, situated on light to medium 
land, seven miles from a station, and farmed mainly for production of 
corn and meat. Taking the above proportions, namely 40 per cent. 
each to farmer and labour and 20 per cent, to landlord as the pre-w^ar 
rate of distribution, and calling each of these shares 100, the proportion 
of distribution between the three interests varied during the following 
six years as sliown below: — 

Distribution of the Net Eeturns from Farming between 
Landlord, F.\rmer, and Labour during the years 1913-14 — 1919-20. 





1913-14 (Standard) . 




1914-1.5 . 




1915-16 . 




1916^17 . 




1917-18 . 




1918-19 . 




1919-20 . 




The figures are interesting in several ways. In the first place they 
seem to disprove the suggestion referred to above, that labour has been 
taking an undue share of the net returns from farming, for an examina- 

that until 

tion of the figures in 


tlie ' Ijabour ' column shows 



institution of the Agricultural "Wages Board in 1917 the tendency was 
in the direction of a slight but steady reduction in the proportion 
coming to the workers ; the effect of the Wages Board Orders was to 
steady this tendency and, ultimately, to bring labour back approximately 
to the position it occupied in 1913-14. If the figures could have been 
continued for another year it is likely that they would show a material 
increase in the workers' share, but, even so, it would be found that this 
increase had been achieved without reducing the farmer's share below 
his pre-war proportion. In the second place, the figures confirm the 
experience of landowners in that the landlord has received no part of 
the increased prosperity of farming, -whilst, as everyone knows, his 
expenses of maintenance have enormously increased. Briefly, the 
situation is that, thanks to the Agricultural Wages Board (and its 
appointed members may take heart from the fact), the workers have 
been maintained in the same position as regards their share in the net 
returns as that in which they were before the war, whilst the farmer 
has received his share in the increase realised during the past few years, 
together with that which would have gone to the landlord had the 
pre-war scale of distribution been maintained. Rents and wages under 
normal conditions are slow to adjust themselves to changes in farming 
fortune, and, except in a time of violent economic upheaval, it is right 
that this should be so, for if the landlord may be regarded as a deben- 
ture holder, and labour as a preference shareholder, then the farmer, 
as the ordinary or deferred shareholder, has to bear the brunt, and if 
he must take the kicks so also is he entitled to the halfpence. 

Turning now from problems in which either the nation generally 
or whole classes of the industry are concerned, it may be stated that 
there are many economic problems arising on the farm itself in the 
solution of which the individual farmer should be able to derive help 
from the economist. Some of these problems are so simple that their 
solution should be obvious, but the fact remains that waste in its most 
easily eliminated forms is constantly to be met with on the farm. The 
need for the study of the economic use of manual labour has ah'eady 
been referred to in another connection, but, granted that the balance 
between the employment of land, capital and labour on any farm has 
been established, cases are continually met with where labour is being 
mismanaged. It is a not uncommon practice at threshing-time to take 
the horsemen from their work to assist at threshing, and as this opera- 
tion can only be performed in dry weather, it may be assumed that 
the horses might usually be employed on threshing days. With manual 
labour costing about 7s. 6d. a day and horses about 5s. a day, the advan- 
tage of hiring casual labour for threshing, even at high rates of pay, will 
be obvious when it is remembered that the horseman whose horses are 
standing idle represents a daily cost for the manual work performed by 
him of some 18s. On a Midland Counties farm, where the maximum 
possible horse-hours in a certain week in November last were 238, the 
time actually worked by horses was found to be eighty-seven, owing to 
threshing operations, and the wastefulness of the labour-management 
in such a case is obvious. Again, employers in certain cases object to 


paying Saturday overtime to men willing to worl<, because overtime 
payments are at a higher rate than those for ordinary time, but they 
overlook entirely the fact that the Agricultural Wages Board provides 
no overtime payments to the horses, and tlius the clieapest horse-labour 
on the farm is that performed on Saturday afternoon at overtime rates 
of pay to the horsemen. 

Everyone realises, of course, the importance of keeping horses 
busy, but not everyone thinks how heavily the cost of manual labour 
is increased by idle horses. The maximum number of working days in 
a year is 312, a total obviously impossible of attainment in practice. 
Such records as are available show that the days actually worked by 
horses on the farm will not usually exceed four-fifths of the maximum. 
More time may be lost in summer than in winter, a fact not generally 
realised, and the period of maximum unemployment falls between hay- 
making and harvest. The busy seasons are, of course, the autumn 
and the spring, when the preparation of the ground for winter and 
spring corn is going actively forward. In the year 1918 figures were 
collected to show the percentage of days worked compared with ' pos- 
sible days ' in each month on four farms distributed pretty evenly over 
England, and the results, thrown together, are as follows: — 

Pebcext.\ge of Days Worked to Possible Horse-d.\ys on Four 

Farms in 1918. 


. 38 

. 65 

. 78 

. 80 

. 67 

. 64 

Although the figures represent an average of four farms, it is note- 
worthy that the results on the individual holdings varied one from 
another in degree only, and that the months of maximum and mini- 
mum employment were the same in every case. The loss of time is 
far more serious than many people realise. The maximum possible 
horse-days in the year are 312, and the cost per day of the horses on 
the above four farms on this basis was 2s. Id. whereas, owing to the 
time lost, the cost on the basis of days worked was 3s. Id. Whilst 
some difference is inevitable, so great a discrepancy as these figures 
reveal can be avoided by skilful management, and one of the tests of 
the farmer's efficiency is provided by an examination of the distribution 
of horse-labour throughout the year on his farm. His cropping and 
other work should be so contrived as to provide for the uniform, 
utilisation of horse-labour month by month. Under skilful manage- 
ment the differences in the number of days worked by horses fi'om year 
to year are extraordinarily slight. On an East Midlands farm, employ- 
ing twenty-three horses, the days worked per horse during the past 
six years have been as follows: — 



. 67 



. 82 

August . 


. 77 



. 74 



. 70 



. 56 









Days worked per 

horse . 







Q 2 


It may be noted, in passing, that figures such as those given for the 
seasonal employment of horse-labour emphasise the need for a study of 
the place of the agricultural tractor in farm management, for the busiest 
times of the year synchronise, more or less, with the seasons when 
the weather is more uncertain and suggest that the application of 
speedier mechanical power to field operations, in substitution for slower 
horse-power, would result in economic advantages in certain cases. 

In connection with the study of economics on the farm the question 
of agricultural costings naturally suggests itself. Farmers, as a class, 
arc not accountants and much less are they cost accountants, but this 
has not deterred many of them from taking part in discussions of 
farming costs which have been going on in the Press and in the Food 
Controller's offices for some time past, and the confusion of thought 
on the question of what cost of production really is which these dis- 
cussions have revealed is evidence of the need for study and education 
in costing processes. Few things can be of greater service to the 
farmer than scientific book-keeping carried out and interpreted with 
proper understanding, but few things can deceive him more than 
costing wrongly conducted or misinterpreted. The need for accurate 
thinking is evidenced in nothing, perhaps, so much as in connection 
with the question of the valuation of the raw materials gi-own on the 
farm, the hay, straw, roots, pasturage, &c., produced for home con- 
sumption in the process of manufacturing milk and meat. Thei'e can 
be only one basis of value possible, namely, their cost to the farmer, 
but it is contended, almost universally, that their market price should 
be substituted for the sums that he has actually paid for them. As 
a matter of fact, the bulky feeding stuffs usually produced and con- 
sumed at home rarely have any market value at all. A market value 
is one that can be realised in the market. Thus, corn, meat, and 
certain other commodities have clearly market value because they are 
always saleable, but if all the farmers in the country decided to sell 
their mangolds they would find that the market for mangolds is non- 
existent, and that the prices quoted in market reports represent a few 
deals to satisfy an infinitesimal demand. The same is true of straw 
and, in a slightly less degi^ee, of hay in normal times. Even if the 
difficulty of fixing the market prices of certain products, such 
as turnips, straw, or hay, be ignored, and if it be assumed that 
there be a free market in such things, a fuller consideration of what 
the farmer really does in feeding them to his stock will show how 
inapplicable such values are to his case. The market value of an article 
is the figure at which a willing buyer and a willing seller can agree 
to do business. The farmer who contends that he is justified in 
' selling ' his roots or hay to his stock is selling them, in point of 
fact, to himself, and seeing that there is only one party to the trans- 
action there can be no market and, consequently, no market price. 
In the majority of cases each of these things is grown because the 
farmer has need of them in the production of the article or articles 
of food towards which his management is directed. If he could buy 
them more cheaply than he can grow them he would surely do so, but 
to I'egard himself as a merchant instead of as a manufacturer, and 


then to trade with one department of his farm against another is to 
involve himself in paper transactions which have no foundation in 
fact, and whicii may lead to disastrous conclusions. To take, for 
example, the cost of milk production. It is usual to argue that hay 
consumed by the cow should be charged at its market price. It may 
well be that in consequence of a temporary or of a local demand it 
will pay a farmer better to sell hay rather than to produce milk, and 
one of the main functions of book-keeping is to enable him to make 
a decision on such points as this. But he cannot expect to have 
it both ways ; if he sells hay he cannot produce milk, and vice versa. 
Many farmers contract at summer prices for their winter's supply of 
feeding stuffs, but a man who has bought linseed cake at a pound 
per ton less than the price current at the time when he is consuming 
it would hardly think of charging it to bullocks at any other price 
than that which he actually paid, and it is this figure, the actual cost 
to him, which must be the measure of the value of all raw materials, 
whether they be bought in the market, or whether, for the sake of 
convenience and economy, they be grown on the farm. 

Lastly, I want to urge, and particularly before a gathering such 
as this, the importance of agricultural economics in agricultural 
education. The fact is realised, no doubt, by many teachers, but until 
a sufficient body of data bearing on the study of farm management can 
be made available to them it is impossible for them to give to the 
teaching of practical agriculture that solid economic basis which is 
fundamental, and the teacher is driven to include in his insti-uctioii 
much to which the economic test has never been applied and to exclude 
more for which no basis for teaching exists at all. Given the requisite 
body of information it would not only be possible but necessary to 
recast the whole foundations upon which the teaching of practical 
agriculture rests. 

I am not one of the few who appear to derive satisfaction from 
milking comparisons unfavourable to British agriculture with that of 
other countries, but, when we look at the work which is being done 
in the United States, in Italy, Germany, Switzerland, and even in 
Russia before the War, it is surprising to reflect that the agriculturists 
of the nation which produced Adam Smith. Ricardo, and John Stuart 
Mill should have been so slow to realise the need for a fidler organisation 
for the study of as'iicultural economics. 



Seismological Investigations. — Twenty-sixth Report of Com- 
mittee (Prolessur H. H. Turner, Chairman; Mr. J. J. Shaw, 
Secretary; Mr. C. Vernon Boys, Dr. J. E. Crombie, Sir Horace 
Darwin, Dr. 0. Davison, Sir F. W. Dyson, Sir R. T. 
Glazebbook, Professors C. G. Knott, and H. Lamb, Sir J. 
Larmor, Professors a. E. H. Love, H. M. Macdonald, and H. C. 
Plummer, Mr. W. E. Plummer, Professor R. A. Sampson, Sir A. 
Schuster, Sir Napier Siiaw, Dr. G. T. Walker, and Mr. G. W. 
Walker). Drawn up hij tJic CJiairDiun, cvccpi irlierc dtlieririse 


The Committee has to deplore the death of Professor J. Perry, who had 
been associated with its work from the early days when he was in Japan with 
Professor John Milne. The first Report of this Committee (1895, Liverpool) 
contains an account of the ' Perry Tromometer ' by its inventor, and a note 
on trials of one form of it at Shide by !Milne — so sensitive that the guns fired 
five miles away (at the funeral of Prince Henry of Battenberg) caused movements 
of 1 foot in the light spot. Perry was continuously a member of this Committee 
from its inception till his death (1920, August 5), and a regular attendant at 
its meetings. 

The clerical work at Oxford is still being carried on in the room in the 
' Students" Observatory ' mentioned in the last Report, as the tenant of the 
house (purchased by Dr. Crombie's benefaction) found at the last moment 
that his arrangements for vacating it in September, 1920, had broken down. 
This has naturally hampered the work ; and the serious illness of Miss Bellamy 
for several months has also had an inevitable effect on the current reductions. 
The Committee is much indebted to her uncle, i\Ir. F. A. Bellamy, for the way 
in which lie has minimised the loss by his own personal exertions. 

Until the Royal Commission on the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge 
has reported, and the Geophysical Union has considered the international situa- 
tion (as expected at Rome in April next), no further steps of a general kind 
can be taken. 

The Committee received its annual grant of 100/. from the Caird Fund in 
January, 1921. In place of the 100/. formerly granted by the British Association 
at its annual meeting, it was resolved at the Cardiff (1920) Meeting to forward 
to the Board of Scientific and Industrial Research a recommendation that this 
sum should lie granted from its funds. The Chairman interviewed the officials 
of the Board on the matter, at their request ; and it was ultimately decided 
that, instead of the application to the B.Sc. and Tnd. Res., application should 
be made to the Government Grant Fund for 300/. in place of the former 200/. 
'J'liis grant of .300/. was made in INIarch, 1921, and placed at the disposal of the 
Committee in June, 1921. 

It may be mentioned that a member of the Committee, Dr. C. Davison, has 
during the year published an excellent ' Manual of Seismology ' (Camb. Univ. 
Press, Geological Series). 


The ]Milne-Shaw seismograph erected in the basement of the Clarendon 
Laboratory at Oxford has worked well throughout the year, except that the 
coal strike led to a diminution of gas-pressure and consequent illumination 
for certain hours, which made the record almost useless. Mr. Bellamy and 
Mr. J. J. Shaw arranged an electric-light substitute which has performed 
fairly well. 

It may be mentioned that miniature copies of the films on quarter-plates 
have been found very useful. Prints made from these show under a lens 
practically all that is required, and are very readily stored or sent by post. 




It would thus be feasible to collect the records of several observatories for 
comparison without taking up an inconvenient amount of storage space. We 
should at Oxford welcome exchanges of this kind (for days of large earthquakes) 
with observatories that would consider a mutual arrangement. 

During the year Milne-Shaw machines have been despatched to Bombay, 
Rio de Janeiro, Wellington (N.Z.), Cairo, and Hong-Kong. 

JMr. J. J. Shaw has been hard at work all the year on the construction of 
Milne-Shaw machines, and as each approaches completion he has seized oppor- 
tunities for experiment. The most valuable and laborious of these experiments 
are referred to later under the heading of ' ]Microseisms,' but another instance 
is represented in the following note supplied by him : — 

Wanderings of the Zero. 

' In the Report for the year l'J17 attention was drawn to the great difference 
in the stability of two adjacent sites 60 feet apart (at West Bromwich), but 
there was a possibility tliat the wandering of the zero was an effect of changes 
of temperature upon the instruments. The base of the seismograph is poised 
upon three brass feet, the effect of which might be to tilt the instrument if 
one side of the chamber was warmer than the other. 

' To investigate this point three feet of invar steel were substituted, but the 
wandering of the zero from day to night continued as before. 

' An attempt was made to counteract the tilt by using invar on one side of the 
instrument and brass on the other. If any effect was produced, it was too small 
to lie noticed.' (.J. J. S.) 

Just as this Report was going to press, Mr. Shaw sent a further note of an 
important series of observations on the effect of solar radiation. ' Yesterday 
was a special day here,' he wrote on August 4 ; ' the sky was intensely blue, 
with huge banks of fleecy cumulus clouds, so that the front of my house was 
at one moment in brilliant warm sunshine, and at another in cool shadow.' 
He noted the times of transition, and found almost immfdiatc responses of the 
.seismograph in the cellar. The matter will, of course, be further investigated, 
and fuller details given later. 

Change of Site from Shide to Oxford. 

The departure from Shide (rendered necessary by the return of Mrs. Milne 
to Japan) and removal to Oxford involves discontinuity, which is liable to 
affect scientific results more or less, sometimes in details which are not realised 


Number of Earthquakes Eegistered. 























February . 
April . 
May . 
June . 
July . 
September . 
November . 
December . 




















Total . 




until too late to remedv the defect. The most noticeable change up to the 
present has been decidedlv advantageous, viz. the steadiness of the trace has 
been immensely improved. Tins is probably not a consequence of change of 


geological site, but merely of the installation in the basement of the Clarendon 
Laboratory, where the temperature is kept very steady (wliereas in the old stable 
on ground-level at 8hide it varied considerably : see the Twentieth and Twenty- 
first Reports). Bat in the present imperfect state of our knowledge it is well 
to keep an eye on anything which may suggest change in sensitiveness of site. 
The counts of the numbers of earthquakes registered at Shide and Oxford 
near the break, given in Table I on page 207, seem to show that no very serious 
discontinuity of this kind has been experienced. Miss Bellamy went through 
all the records and noted any disturbance of the trace, however slight, that 
could be attributed to an earthquake. 

Bulletins and Tables. 

The Bulletins are now considerably in arrear, owing to the imperfection 
of correspondence during the War, which is only slowly disappearing. Several 
times the results for 1917 have had to be revised owing to the receipt of 
delayed material ; but they are now being put into shape for printing, which 
will be pushed on (for this and following years) as rapidly as possible. Any 
corrections to tables must necessarily await the completion of this work. 

Earthquake Periodicity. 

It was mentioned in the last Report how the long period of 240 to 300 years 
suggested by the Chinese records of earthquakes had perhaps been identified 
in the growth of trees as exemplified in the records collected by Mr. A. E. 
Douglass. If so, there were apparently two interfering periods of 284 and 303 
years. During the past year, by the courtesy of the i\leteorological Office, a 
copy of the independent work by Professor Ellsworth Huntington, ' The 
Climatic Factor as illustrated in Arid America,' was lent for some months in 
order that the measures there given might be analysed. They were accepted 
as given by Professor Huntington in Table G on p. 323, which gives a summary 
of growth of Sequoia Washingtoinana. Column (H) gives final corrected 
average. What follows refers to this column suljsequent to date — 1085, before 
which the numbers are wild and would seriously upset the analysis. 

(a) When analysed in an adopted period (adopted for convenience of 
arithmetic) of 280 years the phases showed a progressive increase, indicating 
a longer mean period, but at the same time a reversal in the middle of the 
series showed that a single term would not suffice to represent them completely. 

[b] A period of 284 years was then assumed and separated out. The 
remainders indicated a term, not of 303 years as expected, but of 327 years. 
Since the values 284 and 303 for the components were adopted from discussion 
of the corresponding pair near one century (95 and 101 years), this new series 
was next examined for cycles near one century, and a term of 109 years 
declared itself unmistakably. 

Hence it will be necessary to reconsider the former adopted values, and to 
see how far the whole evidence will support modified values of the periods. 

Breaking Submarine Cables. 

It was Milne's opinion, several times publicly expressed, that submarine 
earthquakes were often responsible for breakages of cables, which occasionally 
occur without assignable cause. If so, we should have an important link 
between a scientific study and the business world. 

During the past year opportunities have arisen in several independent ways 
for testing this hypothesis. In some cases definite dates and places of cable 
breakages were supplied, with inquiries whether shocks fitting in with these 
data had been recorded. In no case could an affirmative answer be given after 
scrutiny of the records ; while in some of them the trace seemed to be almost 
maliciously quiet for many hours near the date and time provided. After some 
experience of this kind other inquiries were initiated by the Chairman without 
better success. The cable companies concerned do not wish the details pub- 
lished, for business reasons; but the main facts are as stated. It would seem 
that if submarine shocks of the kind are responsible, then for some reason 
they do not affect our seismological records. 



During the past year also there have been one or two explosions of which 
notice has kindly been given, so that eftects on the trace might be looked for. 
In these instances previous experience suggested a negative result, and no 
serious expectations were raised. There was ultimately nothing to report. 

Standard Time. 

This Committee in its earlier years naturally took much interest in the 
establishment of Standard Time in various parts of the Empire. The Colonial 
Office courteously continues to inform the Committee of any advances in this 
direction. Tlius in 1919, August, the Colonial Secretary informed us that 
the ' Standard Time of one hour fast on Greenwich will be introduced in 
Nigeria on the 1st of September next,' forwarding at the same time a copy of the 
Ordinance. On 1920, January 2, the Colonial Secretary forwarded copies of 
Ordinance No. 18 of the Gold Coast, No. 11 of Ashanti, and No. 8 of the 
Northern Territories, which enacted that Standard Time shall be twenty minutes 
in advance of Greenwich from September 1 to January 1 in each year; and 
Greenw^ich time for the rest of the year. 

Alterations of twenty minuti?s at various seasons formed part of Mr. Willett's 
original scheme of ' Daylight Saving,' but were given up in deference to urgent 
representations from various quarters. As an alteration of this kind seems f;ir 
more likely to cause inconvenience and confusion than an alteration of a whole 
hour, an inquiry to the Colonial Office has recently been adventured whether 
it would be possible to find out how far experience of the change had proved 
satisfactory ; and an answer was received promising that inquiries should be 
made. On August 12 the reply was transmitted, to the effect that the changes 
had been found so beneficial in practice that they were to be retained. 

The Earthquake in New Guinea on 1919, May 7. 

Acknowledgment may be also made here of the courtesy of the Colonial 
Office in forwarding, under date 1919, September 10, a copy of a Report from 
the Administration at Rabaul (late German New Guinea) relative to a ' severe 
earthquake shock ' on 1919, May 7. ' Reveille had blown at 5. .30 . . . and a 
few men who were snatching some minutes' extra sleep received a violent 
reminder that it had blown by being pitched off their stretchers and having 
the stretchers overturned on top of them.' In acknowledging the Report, 
opportunity was taken to ask for details of locality, which led to a further 
Report from the Administrator, received here on 1921, January 4, specifying 
the centre of disturbance as the ' semi-active volcano Glaie or Tavurvur,' in 
long. 152° 8' 55" E., lat. 4° 14' 20" S. (2 miles S.E. of Rabaul), which was in 
violent eruption in 1878 (January-February), when (Febraary 14) Vulcan I.sland 
was upheaved (ref. to autobiography of Rev. George Br(j>vn, and R. Geog. Soc. ; 
chart of H.M.S. Blanche, 1872). At that time there was little or no wliite 
settlement. There was another 'severe shock on 1916, January 1, for which the 
details adopted (by Shide, I.W.) were 

To=13'' 20" 13», . . 154°-0E. 6°-5 S. 

Possibly the actual position of the volcano would suit the data equally well 
(see 'Large Earthquakes' of 1916, published by this Committee). The 
Administrator adds : — 

' The line of disturbance is South-West from the volcano Glaie to the large 
active volcano called the Father on the north coast of New Britain. In fact, 
the earthquakes are most severe when the Father is quietest. The line extends 
then westerly towards the west end of New Britain, where there are semi-active 
volcanoes; thence on to the Island of Manam, off the coast of New Guinea, 
which is a very active volcano.' 

The Great Earthquake o£ 1920, December 16. 

A very severe earthquake occurred on December IG near the city of Pingliang, 
in Kansu, China. Father Gherzi has already published a valuable preliminary 
report on this disaster, but the following notes are chiefly from sources inde- 



pendent of his : ' The reported loss of life varies from 1,000,000 — a Chinese 
official report — to 100,000, a "conservative" foreign estimate.' Part of the 
population live in caves, and were buried alive by the collapse of the hills. 
Others sleep on brick platforms with a fire underneath, and were either burnt 
in the fire or died of cold and exposure from the fire being extinguished. 
Letters have been received (in reply to inquiries kindly suggested by the 
Royal Geographical Society) from a number of missionaries and others, giving 
details of the terrible disaster in various localities. A valuable report from 
Mr. E. J. Mann in Lanchow (103°. 9 E., 36°. N.) deserves special mention. 
He gives a sketch map of the district most affected which extends from 

Haicheng (105°.95 E., 36°. 35 N.) : ' No walls left ; no people left ' ; 
Ta-la-Cliih (105°. 36 E., 36°. 62 N.) : 'Important large market; entirely 
destroyed ' 

(these as northern limit) to 

Touguei (105°. 12 E., 35°. 22 N. : 'No wall standing; not quite so flat as Hai- 
cheng ' ; 
and Ma-ing (104°. 97 E., 35°. 30 N.) : Same note as Ta-la-Chih. 

The mean co-ordinates of these four places are 105°. 3 E., 35°. 9 N., and, so 
far as it is possible to specify a single point for a disaster of such magnitude, 
we might take this for the epicentre. Mr. Mann draws attention to two 
volcanoes N. and S. of the district most affected. The positions given above 
are taken from his sketch map by comparison with a few well-known points : 
and the positions he records for the volcanoes are 

o o 

105-79 E 37-26 N 1 Mean 

104-69 E 34-64 N J 105°-24 35°-95 

The point midway between them is, as Mr. INIann observes, remarkably 
close to the middle of the affected district, as above estimated. The northern 
volcano 'does not emit fire but is always smoking.' Close to the southern, 
which is also a ' smoking hill,' is a ' noted boiling-water spring to which people 
go for medical baths.' Between the hills are a 'large number of warm or hot 
springs. There is a real hot one close to the ruined city of Tonguei, and 
there are many warm ones in the district of Cliing-yuan ' (105°. 08 E., 36°59N.). 
Other points of interest in Mr. Mann's letter may be briefly summarised 
thus : — 

(A.) Percentage of houses destroyed at 

105-08 E 

36-59 N. 


80 to 90 per cent 








60 to 80 














The distance A from the epicentre deduced above is estimated from the 
map. The percentage for Huei-ning suggests that the epicentre should be 
moved further away from it, probably to the East, which would bring it nearer 
Ku-yuan. This is in accordance with the rough shading on the map by which 
jNIr. Mann has indicated the devastated area. Perhaps 105°.8 E., 35°. 8 N., would 
be a better estimate, taking everything into account. Fatlier Gherzi's contour 
lines suggest 106°. 1 E., 3o°.6 N. 

(B.) Black and evil-smelling water was vomited in many places; the earth 
opened in others. [In the subsequent quake of December 25 a man fell into 
an opening up to his middle, which then closed and smashed his legs.] In 
several places long strips of land subsided 20 or 30 feet. 

(C.) At Tsinchow (105°. 0, 34°. 4) is a stone tablet commemorating the re- 
building of the walls after an earthquake when half the people were killed. 
(Date not yet communicated.) 

(D.) The barometer fell heavily before each bad earthquake; for that of 
December 16 was followed by a series of others, which, at the time of writing 


(1921, March 17), were still coutiiiuiiig. JJy an odd cuiiicidence a letter was 
received irom Mr. A. Pearse Jenkin, F.R.lNlet.S. (of lledruth, Cornwall), sug- 
gesting, from an independent standpoint, a connection between earthquakes and 
barometer changes. He draws attention to p. 226 of Symons's ' Meteorological 
Magazine ' for lOOG (vol. 41), where there are some notes by Mr. W. Gaw on 
the Chili earthquake. 

(1) The third and second days previous to the great shocks were ' charac- 
terised by a high barometer, accompanied with rain; abnormal conditions here. 
(2) The day preceding the first seismic movement was marked by a sudden fall 
of about half an inch of barometric pressure in a comparatively short period of 

Mr. Jenkin's view is that ' at some spot on the earth there exists, from 
some exceptional cause, an area of deficiency of mass in the earth's crust, and 
there is, according to the theory of isostasy, an endeavour to fill up the deficient 
area and so restore the balance. The interior of the earth, being viscid, 
re.sponds but slowly, but the atmosphere, subject to the same laws but more tluid, 
does its part in attempting to restore the balance more rapidly.' He docs not 
make his mechanism entirely clear, but neithei' is the mechanism of isostasy 
yet fully ur.derstood. 

Location of the Epicentre: Early Uncertainties. 

It is perhap.s well to put on record the uncertainties which affected the 
localisation of this great earthquake for some days. A single completely 
equipped station, such as Eskdalemuir, can assign the locality of an epicentre 
from its own records ; but unfortunately the Eskdalemuir machines were out 
of action on December 16. Other English stations have as yet only partial 
equipment : taking them in combination, they could assign two alternative 
localities, one to the East and one to the West. News from America that 
the epicentre was only 3,000 miles from them pointed to the Western alterna- 
tive, but it was very difficult to fulfil all the conditions. The direct evidence 
of the seismographs put the epicentre where a disaster of such magnitude would 
be independently recognised ; it was necessary to look for a possible centre, 
not too far from that directly indicated, where a big earthquake might occur 
without revealing itself by telegraph to the civilised world — such as the Alaskan 
Coast, for instance. But the receipt of news from China made it clear that 
the American stations had been deceived by the magnitude of the disturbance 
into thinking it close at hand, when it was in reality far away. 

A few Details for December 16. 

The earthquake of December 10 was so exceptional that a few figures may 
be given here. The ado))ted epicentre (calculated before Mr. Mann's map 
was received) is 10o'^5 E., 35^. .5 N., and the time at origin To=12'' 5'" 40". 

A Azini. Obsd. P O— C S. 0— C 

Station ^ ^ m. s. s. m. s. s. 

Calcutta . . 19-8 236 10 30 + .5 14 12 -f 5 

Kodaikanal . . 3.5-9 233 13 — 1 — — 

Vienna . . 03-8 312 16 19 — 4 24 58 +1 

Padova . . 0,7-5 311 16 49 +2 — — 

Dyce . . . (19-2 327 16 58 26 58 — 4 

West Bromwich . 71-8 323 17 14 — 1 26 29 — 5 

Oxford . . 71-9 322 17 15 26 31 — 4 

Riverview . . 81-5 143 18 15 +2 28 28 -f 2 

Sydney . . 81-5 143 18 12 — 1 28 30 +4 

Honolulu . . 82-8 70 18 24 +3 28 42 -|- 1 

San Femandn .84-1 312 18 27 — 2 28 36 —19 

Saskatoon . . 880 21 18 39 —12 29 19 —19 

Ottawa . .991 1 19 27 —25 30 6 —87 

La Paz . . IGOl — 25 58 — 40 10 — 


Disturbance at Colombo, Ceylon. 

The following note was forwarded by Mr. Bamford on 1931, June 22 : — 
' The shock of December 16, 1920, gave the seismograph zero a permanent 
shift of 8^ mm., or about 5'', the West end of the pillar being raised. A print 
of the corresponding records is enclosed. Two West to East levels, one on the 
seismo-pillar, 15 feet deep, the other on the pillar of the new transit instrument, 
2-3 feet deep, were available for examination. Their curves are shown (Curves I. 
and II.). The plotted points are the means of three readings, approximately 
at 8 A.M., noon, and 4 p.m. (I.S.T.), except on the 12th and 19th (8 a.m. readings 
only), and on the 18th (8 a.m. and noon readings only, for the transit level). 
The curves run fairly parallel, except on the 16-17. We may therefore take 
the effect of the earthquake on the seismo-pillar to be a shift of rather over 1". 

' The North to South level on the seismo-pillar (Curve III.) shows no effect at 
all, unless it is masked by a simultaneous shift due to meteorological changes, 
such as frequently occurs. In this connection it may be mentioned that the 
daily period of the seismo-pillar (the East to West component of which used 
to be 5", the North to South component much smaller) was considerably reduced 
last year by the addition of verandahs to the North and South of the seismo- 
graph room, and by the addition of a new transit room to the East, so that 
the seismograph room is no longer at the extreme East of the Observatory 

The three curves forwarded by Mr. Bamford certainly all show a sympathetic 
drop on December 17, and a sympathetic rise from about December 18.5 to 20.0. 
Outside these limits their trends are unsympathetic and even opposed. It is 
possible that the movements between December 17-20 are due to the earthquake, 
but large changes of a seismograph trace may be due to creep of the boom 
needle point in its cup, which in the Colombo (Milne) instrument is 

Disturbance at Oxford. 

On the other hand, we are fortunate to have a remarkable observation at 
the Radcliffe Observatory, Oxford, kindly communicated by Dr. Rambaut. It 
appears that Mr. W. H. Robinson happened to be observing the level-error 
of the Transit Circle at the time of the earthquake, and after making a setting 
' was astonished to see the reflected image of the wires slowly move away 
until it reached a distance of about 4"; it then as slowly returned to the direjt 
wire, repeating this many times during the half-hour's watching from 12h. 55m. 
to 13h. 25m. At times the amplitude of the oscillation was rather greater 
than 4", possibly 5". There was a complete absence of tremor or quick vibration 
and diffusion such as those ordinarily observed, caused at certain times by 
the engine of the University Press, and occasionally by passing heavy traffic' 

The extreme readings of" the R.A. micrometer were 21.277 and 21.333 ; on 
December 17 and 18 the mean readings were 21.356 and 21.353, agreeing nearly 
with one extreme, and certainly not lying between them. The suggestion is 
that ' the oscillation took place in such a way as to lift the Eastern pivot rela- 
tively to the Western by about 0.0006 in. (pivots 50 in. apart).' The observa- 
tions were communicated by Dr. Rambaut to the 'Monthly Notices' of the 
Royal Astronomical Society in 1921, April, but the facts were set down on 1920, 
December 30. 

Telegraphic Transmission of Earthquake News. 

It is not often that rapid communication of seismological observations is 
seriously needed. For most earthquakes leisurely transmission by post is quite 
sufficient, for the accurate determination of an epicentre is best undertaken 
when all the information has been collected. As regards preliminary determina- 
tions, they can often be made from a single completely equipped station or 
from one or two stations near together, in friendly communication by postcard. 
The quake of December 16, however, drew attention to the desirability of 
having in reserve some means of telegraphic communication. Inquiry was 



tlierpforc made of M. Lecointe, of Brussels (who was deputed l)y the Inter- 
national Astronomical Union to deal with astronomical telegrams), whether 
a supplementary seismological service could be arranged. [It may be 
remarked that, although an International Geophysical Union was con- 
stituted at Brussels in 1919, at the same time as the Astronomical Union, 
it was not found possible to initiate the seismological branch of it until the 
formal dissolution of the former International .Seismological Association had 
been completed. Hence the astronomical body was approached as the best 
available means under the circumstances.] M. Lecointe replied that a tele- 
graphic code had already been arranged at Strasbourg, which Professor Rothe 
kindly communicated to me. Since then we have exchanged various telegrams 
in this code, with advantage, at anv rate, to us. 'For instance, the news from 
America about the quake of 1921, February 4, was again misleading, but the 
wire from Strasbourg prevented our being perturbed by it. Inquiry has been 
made whether exchanges cannot be arranged across the Atlantic in this code, 
and negotiations are still proceeding in the matter. Meanwhile a further step 
has been taken in the dissemination of Strasbourg intelligence from the Eiffel 
Tower. Of this we have not as yet been able to take advantage, partly because 
of the absence through illness of IMiss Bellamy, and partly because there have 
been few large earthquakes recently. 

The following are the particulars of the code : — 

Telegraphic Code for Earthquakes. 

dd/aa/p p/hh/mm ss/ttt D,D,DDD. 

dd = date. 

aa=azimuth of epicentre from 10° to 10", counting from N. through E. (01-3G) 
based on any dcnr indications of the trace. The addition of 50 (51-86) 
indicates that the azimuth is uncertain by J: 180^^. The figures 91-98 
indicate that the direction is vague and estimated only to nearest 45'^; 
99 indicates that no azimuth determination has yet been made ; 00 that it 
seems impossible. 

pp refer to phases P and S; the first (1-4) concerns P. F.nd second (5-8) S, 
according to the table below. The figure 9 for either P or S indicates 
that the minute signal interferes with beginning. 

hh mm ss are hours minutes and seconds of P. 

ttt is difference S — P in seconds. 

D,D, gives difference P— P in seconds for close earthquakes; if this difference 

is not clear, D,D, is replaced by 99. 
DUD is distance in kilometres for close quakes. 
D,D|DDD is distance in kilometres for distant quakes. 




















Azimuth of Epicentre from two adjacent Stations. 

In the course of trying to identify the epicentre of the great earthquake of 
1920, December 16, a small point of procedure suggested itself which it may be 
useful to note. 

Suppose we have two stations, say O(xford) and D(yce), whose distances 
{10 and EP from the epicentre E are known. We can describe circles on the 



globe with O and D as centres, intersecting in two points one of which is E. 
But drawing these circles on a globe is not a very accurate operation, and it is 
convenient to calculate, if it can be done quickly, in what direction outwards 
from or D to look for the epicentre. 


Let EO— EI) = 2a.-: and put E0+ED = 2 A 

Then 2x must be less than the distance OD (say 2d) between the stations ; and 
approximately 0M=2.t, OD=2f7, so that cos EOD = .r/rf, which gives 
approximately the angle made by EO with OD. 

The point to which attention is here called is that this simple equation 
(which is, moreover, independent of A and thus readily tabulated) gives with 
considerable precision the angle ECD, where C is the midpoint of OD. This is 
true either for spherical or plane geometry. Consider first the la:tter. We have 


2 EC . d . cos ECD=EC2+d'--ED-=EO-2-EC2-(i2 
•.iECd cos ECD=E02— ED2=4Aa; 

2 (EC2+fi!-')=E02+ED-^ = 2( A-+a:-) 
X A 

cos ECD = 

d {A^+x'-d')i 

Since the equation is only likely to be required when x and d are small compared 
with A, the approximation is close. 

For spherical geometry the equations are 

sin d . sin EC cos ECD=cos ED— cos EC . cos fZ=coi EC . ens (Z— cos EO 
2 sin d . sin EC . cos ECD=cos ED— cos E0 = 2 sin A . sin x 
2 cos d cos EC=cos ED+cos E0=2 cos A . cos x 


cos d sin EC={cos2 d — cos^ A cos- x)i 
tan X sin A 

cos ECD= 

tan d (cos^ d — cos'^ A cos- x)^ 
tan X sin A 

tan d (sin^ n cos'^ ar+sin' j:— sin- d]^ 

where the approximation is clearly of the same order as before. 

It may be convenient to use a flat projection of the sphere. Thus we may 
take as the centre of a gnomonic projection, so that a circle of radius r 
round is projected info a circle of radius tan r on the flat. The angles round 
C will then be projected angles, but if C is not too far away from O, the error 
made in setting them off uniformly round C will not be large. 

There is another method of finding the points of intersection E of the two 
circles, which may be useful as a check on the former. Let the constants for 
O and D (as given on p. iii of the 'Large Earthquakes for 1916 ') be (a, b, c,) 
and (a„ b„ c„) : and let E be denoted by (A, B, C). Then 

cos E0 = aiA+6,B + CiC 
cos ED=a2A+bi'B + CnG 


l^ei /i' denote tlie ratio of cos ED to cos EO, which is not very different I'roni 
unity. Then 

(ifcai-a2)A+{fc6,-6.,)B+(A-r,-f,)C = 

Considered as a relation between (A, B, C) this represents a great circle on 
which (A, B, C) must lie. It has also the property of being at right angles to the 
great circle joining OD. For the pole L of this circle has co-ordinates 

fc^Ci— feifi.,, c.2ai— Ci«.2, aJji—afi-i 

and these satisfy the aliove equation, which therefore represents a great circle 
through L, and consequently perpendicular to OD. 

We can find the point K at which this line cuts OD from the relation 

cos KD = /ir cos KO 
Since KD=KO— 2rf, this becomes 

cos 2rf + sin 2d . tan KO=/fc 
or tan KO=(/i;— -cos 2rf)/sin 2d 

so that KO can be readily tabulated in terms of /.; for a given pair of stations. 
Or the positions of K for given values of k can be marked off on the projection. 

Microseisms. [B,j j. j. Shaw.] 

In the Report for 1920 particulars were given of some investigations made 
upon microseisms, and it was there shown how it was possible at stations two 
miles apart to identify the individual waves so precisely that there was little 
difficulty in determining the time of arrival at each station to within a fraction 
of a second. 

It was therefore proposed to extend the experiments, using three stations 
situated about ten miles apart, with the object of measuring more accurately 
the rate of propagation, and to confirm the previous observation that their 
direction was consistently from the North. 

The 1920 experiments were conducted at West Bromwich. 

Inquiries were made to discover two capable observers, 

(a) at suitable distances from West Bromwich, 

(b) with cellars or other accommodation which would provide a stable 

site for the instruments, 

(c) provided with telephones for synchronising the time circuits. 

By the kindness of Mr. Harry Walker, of Sutton Coldfield, and his brother, 
Mr. Sidney Walker, of Solihull, who gave much time to the work, the above 
conditions were fulfilled; and the thanks of the Committee are here placed on 
record for their valuable help in the experiments. 

The instruments used were three i\Iilne-Shaw seismographs, timed by three 
clojks with rates of about 1 sec. per day. 

Each time circuit was provided with an audible ' clicker,' which could be 
placed near the telephone and heard at West Bromwich each minute. By this 
means the time breaks were either synchronised, or the difference (if small) 

One machine was installed at Sutton on 1921, January 18, and the other at 
Solihull on 1921, February 28; and both were oriented on a line 12° East of 
North to conform to the only convenient orientation at West Bromwich. 

All machines were used with 10 sec. period; 20 : 1 damping; and a magnifica- 
tion of 250 : 1. 

From the outset it was noted that it was not only quite impossible to 
identify individual waves, luit even the trains of waves would not bear com- 

On February 28 West Bromwich and Sutton machines only were running. 
They showed an exceptional series of torpedo-shaped maxima for many hours; 
but it was rarely that the maxima were in agreement at the two stations, and 
then obviously by mere chance. 


During February, iMarch, and April some 150 records were taken, luit beyond 
the average amplitude and period there was no satisfactory agreement. 

In the case of 1920 experiments the outlying station was two miles distant 
in a direction 17° West of North. 

The Sutton position lies 8-2 miles distant and 66°"5 East of North. Solihull, 
106 miles, and 134° East of North. 

Sutton is 10'6 miles from, and precisely due North of, SoliliuU; only 17° from 
parallel to the two-mile line of 1920. 

It seems remarkable that the microseisms. so perfectly reproduced at a 
distance of two miles, should so completely change in eight to ten miles. 

It is worthy of note that the two near positions used in 1920 were situated 
upon a narrow outcrop of Permian Sandstone and Marls, whereas Sutton and 
Solihull are located upon a bed of Keuper Marls, and a geological fault divides 
them from this Permian strata. 

If this discontinuity in tlie underlying rocks is responsible for the change 
shown in tlie microseisms, it might lie possible to locate fault lines in this way. 

The earthquake which occurred South of ]\Iexico on March 28 was recorded 
on the West Bromwich and Sutton machines (Solihull not running). The 
seismograms were quite similar in all the main features, any differences were 
in tha tiny superimposed waves (probably microseisms) and occasionally small 
differences in amplitude, tlie excess being sometimes on one machine and 
sometimes on the other, notwithstanding the damping ratio was 20 :1 and the 
periods the same. 


To Assist Work on the Tides. — Report of Committee (Professor 
H. Lamb, Chairmaji ; Dr. A. T. Doodson, Secretary ; Colonel Sir 
C. F. Close, Dr. P. H. Cowell, Sir H. Darwin, Dr. G. H. 
FowLEE, Admiral F. C. Learmonth, Sir J. E. Petavel, Pi'ofessor 
J. Pboudman, Major G. I. Taylor, Professor D'Abcy W. 
Thompson, Sir J. J. Thomson, Professor H. H. Turner). Drawn 
up by Dr. A. T. Doodson, Tidal Institute, University of Liverpool. 

§ 1. The Committee was appointed to investigate the degrees of accuracy 
obtainable in the analysis and prediction of tides. A great deal of work on 
tidal records has now been done under the superintendence of the Secretary 
at the Tidal Institute, and some definite conclusions on the subjects of reference 
have now been arrived at. These are restricted to short-period tides. 

(1) On the basis of previous methods of harmonic analysis and prediction 
the errors of prediction for certain British stations may amount to more than 
a foot, apart from errors due to the use of predicting machines. At these 
stations the range of tide is not exceptional. 

(2) About half of this error may be due to the inadequate treatment of 
shallow-water effects. 

(3) The remaining half of the error is due to tidal constituents which are 
not included in the schedules given by Sir G. H. Darwin in 1883, and whose 
origin is not definitely known. 

(The constituents scheduled by Sir G. H. Darwin will be spoken of as 
' 1883 ' or ' Darwinian ' constituents.) 

(4) While the methods of analysis and prediction are restricted as hitherto 
to the consideration of the ' 1883 ' constituents only there can be no material 
improvements in sither analysis or prediction. This is a direct consequence 
°f (3). 

(5) Time devoted to the modification of harmonic ' constants ' by repeated 
analyses would probably be better spent in analysing for new constituents. 

These conclusions are based upon the work of which an account is now 
given. The Report is divided into three parts : — ■ 
I. A general account of procedure and results. 
II. A statement of methods. (Some of these may be of interest to those 
not concerned with tidal applications — e.g. the methods of calculation 
and summation of harmonic terms.) 
III. A report on the behaviour of predicting machines. 

The subjects of reference have not been fully investigated; the long-period 
tides and meteorological effects have yet to be considered, and the residues 
mentioned in (3) above need thorough examination. The Committee, therefore, 
asks to be reappointed. 


General Account of Procedure and Results. 

§ 2. Some indirect evidence as to the errors of analysis and prediction is 
furnished by a comparison of observations and predictions such as is contained 
in the ' Report on the Harmonic Prediction of Tides ' by the Secretary in 1920. 
But such evidence is not sufficient to indicate the causes of the discrepancies, 
and the only satisfactory course at the outset seemed to be that of the continuous 
subtraction of such partial tides as could be determined, together with examina- 
tions of the successive residues. Obvious tidal constituents, or such constituents 
as were indicated in the standard schedules (or otherwise), were to be removed 
and the residues successively treated until there would be nothing left save 
weather effects and other non-periodic perturbations of mean sea-level. 

Success depended upon the accuracy of the observations to be treated, and 
upon the accuracy of calculations. Concerning the former it was concluded 
1921 B 


that no observations were better than those taken by the Ordnance Survey, 
and the situation of one of their stations (Mewiyn, on the coast of Cornwall) 
was extremely favourable for the investigations because of its situation with 
respect to the Atlantic Ocean. The Survey kindly placed at the disposal of 
the Committee the records they had taken, and the accuracy of these was greatly 

The powers of the predicting machines in summing the harmonic terms 
required were duly considered, but the evidence given in the Report for 1920 
was sufficient for the machines to be distrusted for this work. Tests of two 
predicting machines have been carried out, and the results show that even 
with very careful reading the errors are too great for their use in calculating 
hourly heights j the labour of reading the curves is also very great. The results 
of the tests are discussed in Part III. 

§ 3. The investigations were made possible by the invention of a scheme for 
the numerical calculation and summation of the harmonic constituents ; this 
scheme very greatly reduced the labour of calculation, and the results of summa- 
tion of one set of constituents could be relied on to within about O'Ol foot. An 
account of this scheme is given in Part II., §§ 11-13. 

The first procedure was to remove the chief semi-diurnal constituents, or a 
first approximation to them. Examination of the analyses at neighbouring 
ports indicated the constituents M^, S^, N^, K^, and L^ as most worthy of 
consideration. These were evaluated by certain inference methods (Part II., 
§ 10) to a fairly good degree of approximation except in the case of M.^, which 
was modified after the residue for one month had been obtained. Application 
of the scheme for the calculation and summation of harmonic constituents to 
these five constituents, and subsequent subtraction of the partial tide, resulted 
in a residue which was mainly quarter diurnal. The residue for the month of 
January, 1918, is given in fig. 1. There is obviously some semi-diurnal residue, 
as was to be expected, since only a first approximation to the semi-diurnal tide 
was removed. There is also some diurnal tide, but this is not so prominent 
as the quarter-diurnal tide, and attention was first paid to the latter. 

§ 4. Now the quarter-diurnal tide does not correspond directly to the 
generating potential, as the quarter-diurnal constituents of the potential are 
very small. It is well known, however, that as a wave progresses in shallow 
water it changes shape and the front slope becomes steeper than the rear 
slope. If the departure from sinuity be not too great, this change in form 
can be expressed by the addition of waves whose speeds are multiples of the 
speed of the primary wave. Theoretical considerations of a wave in a shallow 
canal have suggested that the quarter- diurnal constituents must have speeds 
which are either twice those of the primary semi-diurnal constituents or are 
equal to the sums of pairs of those speeds. The constituents usually analysed 
for are M<, MS^, and S^, with speeds respectively equal to twice the speed of 
Mj, the sum of the speeds of S^ and M^, and twice the speed of S^,. Now, on 
carrying out analyses by the usual methods i for these constituents, and on 
subtraction of the partial tide compounded of them, it was found that they 
were quite inadequate to account for the whole, or a reasonable part of the 
whole, of the quarter- diurnal tide. Considerable attention was therefore 
directed to the matter, as it was known that these shallow-water effects were 
undoubtedly responsible for a large part of the errors in predictions. More 
constituents, as suggested by the theory mentioned above, were analysed for 
and calculated, but the rate of elimination was rather slow. It was ultimately 
found that there existed a very simple relation between the existing quarter- 
diurnal tide and the square of the semi-diurnal tide; a reduction factor and 
change of phase, applied to the quarter- diurnal portion of the square of the 
semi-diurnal tide, were sufficient to account so well for the quarter-diurnal 
tide that only a trace of it was left ; this was possibly due to the incomplete 
(or approximate) semi-diurnal tide taken. This metRbd was developed, very 
simple numerical formulae were applied, and the quarter-diurnal constituents 
removed en bloc. 

1 For a rlsumi and criticism of these methods reference should be made to 
the Report for 1920 by Professor Proudman. 



R 2 


§ 5. Tests have been made for Liverpool and Hilbre Island, and similar 
methods can be applied successfully to the sixth-diurnal tide as well as to the 
quarter- diurnal tide. 

(The methods of analyses for, and removal of, the quarter-diurnal tide are 
discussed in Part II., §§ 14-15.) 

§ 6. After removing the quarter- diurnal tide the residue is mainly diurnal 
and semi-diurnal, as may be seen from fig. 2. 

Inference methods for the chief diurnal constituents not proving very 
successful, resort was made to direct analyses of the residues, both for diurnal 
and residual semi-diurnal constituents. A summary of the usual methods of 
analysis, as applied to observations, is given in Part II., §§ 16-17, and modifica- 
tions of these for use with residues are afterwards discussed in § 18. The 
Report liy Professor Proudman (1920) shows that the chief errors in the analysis 
of observations are due to the presence of large constituents, so that one 
■constituent is imperfectly isolated. The chief constituents having been prac- 
tically removed, modifications in analysis were possible. The usual method 
is to analyse only for expected constituents, and the resulting numbers are 
taken on trust ; the methods given in § 18 do not assume the absence of per- 
turbing or of unknown constituents, but were designed so as to give unmis- 
takable indications if such be present. Further, they give valuable internal 
evidence as to the amount of trust to be associated with any derived ' harmonic 
numbers.' This cautious procedure had its reward, as the results indicated 
that the residue contained constituents not included in Darwin's schedules. 
For a full discussion of these matters reference is necessary to § § 17-18 and 
figs. 7-9. It was not found possible, using only six months' residues, to deduce 
the unknown constituents from these analyses, nor would it have been advisable 
to draw definite conclusions at this stage. Our sole index of reality lay in 
the residues. If, after taking out all the ' Darwinian constituents,' there were 
unmistakable signs of semi-diurnal constituents still remaining, then this would 
be regarded as sufficient proof of reality. On these coasts the diurnal tide is 
small, and no new diurnal constituents were suspected or found. 

The removal of the diurnal and semi-diurnal Darwinian constituents 
indicated by the analyses was carried out with the results shown in figs. 3 
and 4. 

§ 7. The order of procedure so far has been as follows : — • 

(1) Removal of first approximation to the semi-diurnal tide; 

(2) removal of quarter-diurnal tide ; 

(3) analyses ; 

(4) removal of diurnal tide; 

(5) removal of second approximation to semi-diurnal tide. 

No attempt has been made to analyse for, and remove, the long-period 
constituents, and it has not been found possible as yet to remove the residual 
semi-diurnal tide. 

§ 8. The residual semi-diurnal constituents. — The residue illustrated by 
fig. 4 is clearly the difference between observations and predictions from 
Darwinian short-period constituents. (The matter of shallow-water effects and 
their inadequate representation will be dealt with separately in § 9.) On certain 
days it is seen that the residual semi-diurnal tide can give an error of ± 6 inches, 
and statement 2, § 1, is justified. It may be stated that at Newlyn there is 
not a very great range of tide. 

The origin of these constituents remains obscure. Apart from the reasons 
given in Part II., § 18, the presence of non-Darwinian constituents may be 
readily shown. If we have two constituents, M^ and S„, say, then the range 
of tide varies from day to day and we get the phenomena of springs and neaps : 
the time between two successive springs is equal to 360° divided by the difference 
in speed (in degrees per mean solar day) of the two constituents ; in the case 
mentioned this difference in speed is about 24", so that the spring tides occur at 
intervals of approximately fifteen days. Now the greatest difference in speed 
between two Darwinian semi-diurnal constituents is about 52° per m.s.d., 
corresponding to ' spring tides' at intervals of about seven days. Fig. 5 shows 
the variation of daily range of the semi-diurnal oscillation for 180 days. The 




phenomena of springs and neaps are here rather complicated, but the general 
principle still holds. In the month of January there is a well-marked 
phenomenon where the springs recur at intervals of two or three days ; that is, 
there is an indication of the presence of a non-Darwinian constituent. 

The residue for the month of April is very much affected by the unknown 
semi-diurnal constituents. 

A rather crude form of periodogram has been constructed from the first six 
months' residues at Newlyn, but it suffices to show that the constituents present 
in the residue are quite distinct from those in Darwin's schedules; it also shows 
that all the Darwinian constituents have been effectively removed. The data, 
however, are not sufficient for definitive conclusions to be drawn as to the 
nature of the residue. 

§ 9. Errors resulting from the inadequate treatment of shallow-water 
effects. — The following table gives a list of the constituents that ought to be 
taken into account in the prediction of tides for Liverpool, in order to give a 
satisfactory representation of the shallow-water effects. The amplitudes are 
approximate only. 

Table of Shallow-watee Constituents at Liverpool. 
Inferred from Harnuonic Constants for M4, Mg and Ms. 











[-67] ft. 





























































Those constituents whose amplitudes are enclosed in square brackets are 
the constituents usually analysed for. The residual quarter- diurnal tide, if 
all are neglected save M,.M and jM„Sj, will frequently exceed six inches, 
and the differences between observations and predictions also serve to justify 
this conclusion. For Newlyn the error will not be so large, but most British 
ports are situated in estuaries where the shallow-water effect will be quite 
comparable with that at Liverpool. Hence we base upon these facts the 
statement (3) of §1. 

It may be mentioned that the predicting machines have not been built to 
catPr for the constituents meptioned above, 





















§ 10. Inference of chief semi-diurnal constitvents. — It is unnecessary to enter 
into the details of this process. A tidal constituent being expressed as R cos (a-t — f), 
where t is zero at midnight on January 0-1, 1918, the following values of R and 
— € were actually used : — 

R -e 

Sj : 1-870 180-00° 

Mj : 5-633 150-33° 

Nj, : 1-100 12-53° 

Kj : 0-600 37-46° 

L2 : 0-300 105-33° 

An analysis for Sj was carried out using six months' observations, and the 
average values of ratios of amplitudes and differences in lags for all other con- 
stituents (referred to SJ were fourd from known harmonic constants for ports 
within a few hundred miles of Newlyn ; from these were deduced the values of R 
and — € given above. 

Regarded as true representatives of the constituents, R is probably correct to 
the nearest tenth of a foot and « may be in error by several degrees. The figures 
represent j3rem«?y what was removed by accurate arithmetical processes. 

§ 11. Calculation of harmonic constituents.— The process on which the intensive 
analysis of tidal observations depends is that of the summation of harmonic 
constituents. Consider the calculation of the five constituents given in the 
previous paragraph ; the calculation of the individual arguments by successive 
addition of hourly increments is itself no light task, and the consequent deter- 
mination of the cosines and the multiplication by the appropriate amplitudes is a 
task of appalling magnitude. The greater part of this labour has been avoided in 
the scheme now to be explained. 

Any term R cos {crt — «) can be written in the form 

D cos (ct — e + d) + D cos (crt — f — d) 

where 2D cos d = R, and D can be chosen at will. By choosing D = 10, 1, 0-1, . . . 
we thus avoid the labour of multiplication, but double the labour of determining 
arguments and cosines. The latter, however, can also be avoided by the construc- 
tion of a suitable abac. 

Let the argument at time t = for a given harmonic term be o, and let the speed 
be <r, so that we have to construct cos (^at + o) at unit intervals of t. Suppose that 
we have a horizontal scale graduated uniformly in degrees (0) on one side, and on 
the other side let there be the appropriate cosine scale, graduated, say, at intervals 

of 001 in cos 6. Then if we mark on the scale the values 6 = a, a + cr, a + 2(r 

0+ fo-, .... we can at once read off, by interpolation in the cosine scale, the values 
of cos a, cos (o + (r), . . . . to three decimals. This double scale avoids reference to_ 
trigonometrical tables or to a graph of cos 6. 

But this method does not perform automatically the processes of adding <Tt tol 
the argument o for the required values of t ; moreover, a very lengthy scale would ] 
be required for us to be able to read off many values to the required degree of I 
accuracy. The problem can be solved by cutting up the scale into sections of I 
length 6 = 0- ; the sections 6 = to a-, a- to 2<r, .... are then placed parallel to one I 
another vertically with their extremities on horizontal lines. A large number of 1 
sections can thus be drawn on an open scale and placed side by side. Suppose that] 
the given value of the initial argument (a) be in the first section ; then a horizontal! 
straight line passing through this point will cut the vertical sections in the points! 

corresponding to fl = a, a + 0- a + at and by interpolation in the vertical] 

cosine scales the values of the cosines can be immediately read off. It is obviousj 
that only one angle (a) needs to be determined, so that it is not necessary to have! 
the fl-scale marked on the cosine scale at all. The best procedure is to use paper] 
ruled in quarter-inch squares with the vertical lines half an inch apart, and with! 
one half- inch to a degree. Since we know that the vertical sections have their] 
upper extremities corresponding to = o, <r, 2<t, . . . ., then any intermediate anglej 


S! c 2 0- 5 c! 
— T — rr 1 — 





















5f ^ ? 


can be readily found by marking out the scale oi = o to <r ia degrees on the extreme 
left of the abac : we shall call this the scale of 5, so that in general 

= JO- + S 
where i is an integer. 

If the initial argument (a) is expressed in the form i(r + S, then a horizontal line 
drawn through 5 on the S-scale will pass through the angles a — i<r, ... a, o + c, . . . 
and readings will commence on the line corresponding to i(T. In practice this 
horizontal line is lightly ruled in pencil, and is afterwards erased. 

There is, however, a limit to the number of readings on one horizontal line. We 
shall suppose that the abac covers r x 3fi0° and contains v complete vertical sections 
and one incomplete section ; then the length of the incomplete section in degrees 
will be 

7 = 360r-f(r. 

But it the abac were extended we should be getting precisely the same values as 
if we started on the extreme left again with a new value of 5 obtained by diminish- 
ing the previous value by 7. Whenever the cycle is completed it is only necessary 
to subtract y from the old value of S to get the new one. The first value of S having 
been found as a — iir, it is simplest to write down the series of subsequent values of 5 
before commencing to draw the lines. Sooner or later, however, a value of 5 will be 
obtained which is less than y, but as the addition of tr to any argument leaves 5 un- 
altered it is immaterial whether we S2ibtraot y or add (ir — 7), provided that we leave 
S<(T. Each new cycle after the first starts on the extreme left : the first cycle, as 
has been explained, starts on the vertical section corresponding to i<r. 

A further modification is that of using (1-l-cos 8) instead of cos 6, so as to 
avoid negative quantities ; the effect of this is that the constant 22D must be sub- 
tracted from the sum of the harmonic constituents. There are many advantages in 
the avoidance of negative quantities. 

For negative speeds (cr negative) the changes necessary are as follows : — 

(1) Start with rH60°, r360°-Kr, .... as headings to the vertical sections; 

this gives a decreasing series of angles ; 

(2) the first value of S will be (r360° + i(r- o), and readings will commence on 

the vertical section corresponding to r'660° + i(r; the scale for S is always 
regarded as positive ; 

(3) the value of 7, being positive, will be (360r + wcr). 

The only change required, apart from the construction of the abac, is that of the 
determination of 8; after the first cycle the procedure is the same as for positive 

A small-scale illustration of the abacs used is given in fig. 6 for the case 
(r = 37.4465°. At the top of the diagram is a horizontal scale for 9 and cos 6 to illus- 
trate the construction of the abac. As an example we sliall take a = 20°. Then the 
dotted lines in the upper figure correspond to 20°, 57.45°, . . . and cos 6 can 
then be read from the lower scale. The abac is drawn with overlapping sections 
commencing at 0°, 37.45° . . . , and covers 2 x 360°. There are nineteen complete 
sections and one incomplete section. Hence « = 19, r = 2, (t = 37.4465, whence 

7 = 720° - 19 X 37.4465° = 8.5167°. 

The S scale is given for multiples of 10° in this illustration, and 1 -i-cos 6 is given 
at intervals of 0.1, decimals being omitted; there are no negative values. With 
5 = 20° we get the following values of 1 -H cos 6 : — 

. 193, 164, 90, 33, 4, 12, 58, 121, 176, 200, 182, 130, 67, 17, 2, 26, 81, 145, 190. 

A new cycle is then necessary ; this is given by 

8 = 20°-8.5167° = 11.4833°, 

and the values of (1 -1- cos 6) are continued as 

196, 167, 105, .... 

If, originally, we had a = 132.34°, then we should look along the top of the abac 
for the nearest value of in- which is less than o, in this case 112.34°, giving Sss20°; 
the readings would commence with 33, 



§ 12. Calculation of semi-diurnal tide. — The calculation of the semi-diurnal 
tide hour by hour is most expeditiously carried out in accordance with the scheme 
now to be explained." 

Consider ^^ = 2Br cos (<r,.t + or), where t is given in units of one mean solar hour ; 


(Tr is the speed in degrees per mean solar hour, and is such that (t,. — 30 is small. 
Then we may write 

Co=C2 cos 30°if-S2 sin 30% 
where C^ = 2K,. cos {ar—30t + a,.)° 


S2 = 2RrSin ((r^-80^ + ar)° = 2R,. cos {ffr-SOt + a-dO)°. 

r r 

Both C2 and Sj are slowly varying quantities because a;- — 30 is small, and therefore 
interpolation can be used if C, and S„are calculated direct at convenient intervals of 
time. Supposing that we know C, and S^ at intervals of twenty-four hours, then 
interpolation formulae can be applied to give the values at intervals of six hours, 
and simple linear interpolation is usually sufficient to give the intermediate values 
at intervals of one hour ; but even if this were not sufficient the principle of inter- 
polation can be used. By this method onl}'^ two series of harmonic constituents 
have to be summed for intervals of twenty-four hours. 

We shall have occasion to use the speed denoted by 

p,. = 24(cr,-.S0)° 

This is equal to the speed in degrees per mean solar day less 720°, and it is con- 
venient to speak of it as the ' reduced speed ' ; we shall use T with pr to signify 
time measured in units of one mean solar day. 

The detailed procedure can now be considered. The methods of § 11 are applied 
with abacs constructed to give readings at intervals of p,. ; the abac for Mj must be 
on a much more open scale than the others in order to read to three decimal places 
of a foot : a convenient scale is one-quarter inch to 01° and the abacs used are in 
four overlapping sections. Also the speed of K^ is such that it is preferable to con- 
struct the abac for a speed Cpr — i-e. to read ofE at intervals of six days ; intermediate 
values are obtained by increasing the appropriate value of S by p,., 2pr, .... 

When each cycle is completed it is desirable to verifj^that no omission has taken 
place, and this can readily be done by calculating independently the date (or day 
number) corresponding to the last reading of the cycle. Bach cycle except the first 
adds either (v + 1) or v readings according to whether 5 be less or greater than 7 ; 
these should be separately summed before any readings are taken from the abac. 
This check is very important indeed, for systematic error is fatal to success, and 
must be avoided. While we have now an assurance that each cycle ends on the 
correct date, the above check is not sufficient to ensure that a particular line has 
been drawn correctly. There is a check which can be applied on any day, but it is 
best to use it on the 15th, 30th and 31st days of each month, as these days are not ; 
covered by a check on the sums, mentioned later. Each constituent is expressed as 
the sum of two others with amplitudes D, say : adding the two readings and 
subtracting 2D gives, say, R,. cos (p,.T + a,.), a term of C ; obtaining the corresponding J 
term of S in the same way, the sum of the squares should be constant, and equal to] 
Rr^. This test should be made before the summations are commenced. 

After carrying out the summations for C and S a check is desirable to indicate ] 
casual errors of abac readings or of .summations. The method of checking by 
successive differences is not very efficient in this instance, and use is made of thai 
relation that the sum of (m + 1) consecutive values of R,. cos (p ,.T + o,) is equal to ( 
the raid-value multiplied lay a factor 

, _sini(m-f-l)pr 
sm ^pr 

The test is best taken with m+1-7, whence we can test the values of C and S in a I 
given month for the days 1-14, 16-29, inclusive ; the remaining days are tested j 

^ The method as given here has been applied to the reduction of the second six j 
months' observations for Newlyn ; a slightly different method, not using Cj and Sj, 
wa-s used previously, 








-:; Uj 



i t 

-^ -v 









1. k 






& S 













o 9 



l« so 

8 ;? 




«^ N; 









? ir 

9 ?j ^ 

r I 






1? 'i: 

^ ei ••) <( I 1 ■« ^ 

I I I 




5 (^ a» K 
v» 4 !? 




« fv «B 

I I I 

^ « 



I I I 

d. <ft 


I I I 




I I I 

ti t" ^ 



"71 JT" 









. 3 
to O 





"2 = 









specially as previously mentioned. The values of fr for the appropriate values of 
Pr are given in the following table : — 

Sj : 7000 Lj 

Rj : 6-997 A^ 

T., : 6-997 M^ 

Kj: 6-983 2SM : 4-720 2N: 0-131 

Multiplying by the above factors the corresponding terms in C on the 4th day of 
the month, and subtracting the constant due to the use of 1 + cos 6 in the abac, 
the result should be equal to the sum of the values of C for the first seven days of 
the month ; the differences between the two are usually less than 0-020 foot. 

The errors in the calculation of and S as above rarely exceed 0-010 foot. 

The next step is to interpolate for values of C and S at intervals of six hours, 
and for this purpose interpolation formulae are used ; these are modifications of the 
ordinary central difference formula — 

Mj=«„ + a;(M,-«„) + ;|a;(a!-l)(«2-w, -w„ + ?<_i)+ .... 

which gives Mj, in terms of the variates «_!, ?<„, «t„ u^. It is supposed ihat x lies 
between and 1. If we apply this formula to the case a; = J and Ux = cos (fx + a) 
we get M cos (^p+ o), where M = (18 cos gp — 2 cos |p)/16. It is easy to show that M 
is always less than unity ; an improvement is to write 

whence M = (I + 2A) cos ^p — 2A cos |p. We can now choose A to make M unity for 
a particular speed, or to make the possible error a minimum when several speeds 
are involved. In the present instance Mj, the largest constituent, and Nj, the con- 
stituent with the greatest value of p, need only be considered. Taking h succes- 
sively equal to -063, -064, -065, 066, we find the values of (M-1) multiplied by 
the appropriate amplitudes to be respectively —-003, — -001, -001, 003 for M^, and 
respectively —-00.5, — -005, — -004, — -003 for N2. Ignoring the signs, the value of 
A = -065 gives the least additive error, and therefore we adopt the interpolatio)! 
formula — 

Cj = - -066C_i -f -565 0„ + -565C, - -OeSCy 

The errors when p is small are negligible whatever value we as.sign to k within the 
range -062 to -066. Except in rare instances the errors of interpolation will be less 
than -010 foot. 

A formula similarly derived could be used to get Cj from C_j, Co, Cj, and 
C,, but it is better to operate on the original series of values of C at intervals of 
twenty-four hours, as these have been carefully checked. We obtain 

C} = - •05C_i -I- -SOCo -I- -SOC, - •05C_i 
C| = - -05C .1 -1- -30C„ -I- -SOC, - OSC-i 

The maximum error is about -01 foot ; this could be reduced a little by taking three 
decimals in the coeflBcients, but the simplicity of the formula outweighed any 
advantage to be otherwise attained. Obviously Cj and Cj can be calculated almost 
simultaneously by first calculating 

[--05 C-i-t- 30C„-H-30C,--05C2] and then adding ^Co or iC,. 

It is helpful to write the primary values in coloured ink and to leave blai.k 
spaces for the values of Cj, Cj, and Cj. As the interpolations are all separate 
calculations with no risk of systematic error, and as the smaller interval 
makes the successive differences to diminish more rapidly than for the primary 
series, all the interpolations can be checked by differencing the complete series 
• • . C„, Cj, Cj, Cj, C,, .... 

The interpolations for C and S for the intermediate hours are simply carried out 
by linear interpolation, and then we have the height of the semi-diurnal tide 
given by 

^2= Cj cos 30°f-S2 sin 30°i;. 

There is no great necessity for checks to be applied at this stage. Systematic error 
is only possible by using the formula wrongly, and examination at intervals is 
sufficient to test this. 



At each stage of the work the maximum error is less than '010 foot and the value 
of y^ can be taken as correct to within -020 foot — the average error, regardless of 
sign, will be much less tlian this. 

§ 13. Calculation of diurnal tide. — The changes to be made in § 12 in order to 
adapt the work to the calculation of the diurnal tide are very few. We have 

C, = C, cos 15°<-S, sin 15°* 
where C, = 2R'- cos (o-,- 15 t + o, )° 


S, = 2R,. sin (ov^Ts t + a,)° 


The multipliers/'' used in testing the summations are as follows : — 

S, : 7-000 M, : 6-383 p, : 2-491 

P, : 6-997 J,: 6-187 Q, : 2167 

K,: 6-997 O, : 4-553 2Q, :--008 

00, : 4-211 

The formula of interpolation may be taken the same as for the semi-diurnal tide. 

(For Newlyn the diurnal tide is small, and it was unnecessary to use the 
multipliers /r : differences could be used on C„, C,, C, ) 

§ 14. Analyses for (juarter-diurrMl tide. — It has previously been mentioned that 
the quarter-diurnal tide (fj at Newlyn has a simple relation to the square of the 
semi-diurnal tide {Q. There are two methods for determining this relationship 
numerically, the first depending upon deduction from harmonic analyses lor M.^ and 
M4 over fairly long periods, and the second depending upon the direct correlation 
between (^ and Q. The former method assumes the existence of the relationship for 
all constituents, and, if it be known that this is legitimate, it is probably the best 
method in practice. The latter method is interesting and is of value when obser- 
vations over only a short interval are available ; the results show whether the method 
is valid. Both methods have been applied to Newlyn observations, and the results 
are in satisfactory accordance. 

The phase shift is approximately the difference between the lag of M, and twice 
the lag of M„, and the reduction factor is approximately equal to the amplitude of 
M, divided by half the square of the amplitude of M^. The effect of the constituents 
L,^ and N, in contributing to the M^ term in Q should be allowed for, but the 
corrections are small. 

The second method is as follows. Let the quarter-diurnal tide in the residue 
after removing the semi-diurnal tide be represented by 

f, - 52'r cos {(r,.t — h,) 


Applying the S4 least-square rule -^ to twenty-four hourly values would give 


« = tV 2 C cos 60°* = ^f,.qr cos (k, + I,.) -1- 2/',?, cos (A',. -1- 1',.) 

J = j'j 2 Ci sin 60°* = 2/, 5,. sin (k,. + |,) - 2/',.yr «'» (*r + I',) 

t=0 r r 

where/,., /',., |,. anil |',. are dependent only on a,.. We may therefore write 

a = -2.g^q,. cos (A-,. + 77,) 



where g, find r;,. are dependent only on or,.. 

•' For technical terms and processes see Report for 1920. 


Now suppose that Ci' contains a quarter-diurnal portion that can be repre- 
sented by 

2Qr cos {(Trt-Kr). 

Then, analysing as above for A and B will give 

A = iffrQr cos (Kr + Vr) 

where ffr and Vn being dependent only on a-r, are the same as before. 
If we now suppose that 

and qr = 2cQr 

and that c and x are independent of r, we have 

a cos X — * sin x = 2c A, 


a sin X + * cos x = 2cB, 

. Ba — AJ J , ■. a-+b 
tan x= „, and ia- = 

Aa+Bb A^+B* 

The value of x can alternatively be found as 

tan"'^ — - tan i— . 
A a 

The definition of a and x is such that if we write R cos (ai + a) for the semi- 
diurnal tide, then the quarter-diurnal tide is given by cW cos Q2(rt + 2o + x). 

In the case of Newlyn two such analyses were made on the results for 
February 15 and March 28, on which days the quarter-diurnal tide was prominent 
and free from serious perturbation by other constituents. The results were : 

2c = -0222, -0229; x = 95°, 96°, respectively. 

These values were in accordance with reductions from the first method, and the 
mean values 

2c = -0225, x = 96° 

were adopted. 

Further experience with observations at Liverpool has shown that the second 
method should be used with some caution ; it is necessary to choose days when (^ 
is prominent and free from disturbance by other constituents, and several such days 
should be taken. The values of c and x. however, do not vary much more than do 
the results of analyses for M^ from year to year. 

§ 15. Calculation of the quarter-diurnal tide. — (1) The first method of calculation 
tried used the values of Q direct. An interpolation formula was evolved for use 
with the hourly values of Q'- It is easily shown that 

•0091 (C,=), -H -0164 (C,=), 

gives the value of (^4)0. where suffixes outside the brackets indicate the relative 
hourly values. The formula is based upon the assumption of a mean speed of 58° 
per mean solar hour, and it does not correspond exactly to constant values of 
c and X ; the variations in c and x are small, however, and of no importance. It is 
easy to calculate the precise value of any constituent. 

Unfortunately f/ contains constants and long-period constituents, so that the 
formula gives a part L which has to be removed. It is easy to show, however, 


that the average of the results of the forinula over twenty-hours will give, to a 
very close degree of approximation, the value of L at the mid-hour. L was found at 
intervals of twelve hours, and intermediate values obtained by linear interpolation. 
It should be noted that L has to be added to the residue. 

(2) The second method, used for Liverpool, was applied to (Ci)'o — (Q's instead 
of ^2^ with an appropriate formula. The residual value of L is very small. 

(3) The third method has been used for reducing the second half of the 1918 
records for Newlyn. This method avoids the introduction of long-period con- 
stituents, and involves less labour than the first method. 

Referring to § 12, we have 

Ci = Cj cos 30°t - S, sin 30°t = R cos (30^ + a)° 

where R cos « = C, R sin a = S, and R is slowly-varying. 

Tlien (^ = cW cos (60t + 2a + x)° 

= 0^008 60°^-S4sin 60°^, 

where Cja(c cos x)(C2^-S./) - (<! sin x)(2a8s) 

and S^ = (o cosx)(2aS.,) + (c- sin x)(C/-S/). 

Now c cos X and c sin x are constants, being, for Newlyn, —.0012 and .0120 
respectively. It is sufficient, therefore, to calculate C/ — S./ and 2C2S., at intervals 
of six (or even twelve) hours, and thence to evaluate C^ and S^ by linear inter- 
polation. The hourly values of f, are then given by 

Ct cos 60°;; - S^ sin 60°^, 

and since cos 60"^ is either ± 1 or ± §, and sin 60°^ is either ± .866 or zero, it is 
desirable to write down iC^ and .866 H,; the calculation of (^ is then a very simple 

This method is superior in every way to either of the first two methods. 

§ 16. Analysis of observations. — Before proceeding to dit>cuss the analysis of 
residues it is desirable to consider the principles governing the methods in vogue 
for the harmonic analysis of tidal observations. A full discussion of these is given 
by Professor Proudman in the Report for 1920, and a brief statement only is here 
required; the matter may be considered under three headings: — (1) the isolation 
and analysis of the principal solar series ; (2) the ' assignment ' ; (3) the length of 
record to be included. 

(1) If the constituent sought be of the principal solar series then it repeats itself 
at intervals of twenty-four mean solar hours, or of some sub-multiple thereof. Hence 
the mean of the heights at intervals of twenty-four hours will tend to isolate the 
height due to the solar series of constituents at the given hour of the day. Other 
constituents will, in the long run, eliminate themselves. The twenty-four means so 
obtained may be submitted to harmonic analysis by the least square rule, and the 
separate constituents obtained. If ^ is the tidal height at time t, measured in mean 
solar hours, N the number of mean solar days included in the record submitted to 
analysis, 15°/t the speed in degrees per mean solar hour, then the whole of the 
processes give 


A„ = J 2 C cos Vo°nt (« = 1,2, . . .) 


B„ = j^2fsin 15^«i (>i=l,2, ...) 

(2) The 'assignment' is a process whereby heights at successive mean solar 
hours may be utilised in ' special time.' When the constituent sought is a principal 
solar constituent the method of analysis is that stated above : a similar process for 
any other constituent would involve a knowledge of heights at ' special hours' in 

1021 3 


place of mean solar hours. A ' special day ' is the time taken for the argument of 
the constituent in question to increase by 360° if it be diurnal or 720° if it be semi- 
diurnal. As this knowledge is lacking, the heights at the nearest solar hours are 
assigned and attributed to the special hours. A certain correction is made 
depending upon the assumption of a random distribution of the difference in time 
between special and mean solar hours. In dealing with large constituents this 
correction may not be adequate. 

(3) The length of record to be included in the process is determined by choosing 
an interval of time such that the effect of some one large constituent is made as 
small as possible. The effects of all other constituents are ignored, though this may 
not be justifiable if these constituents are large or if their speeds are very nearly 
equal to that of the constituent sought. 

The whole purpose of the methods described is that of determining simply two 
numbers A and B, and there is no internal evidence to show that we are entitled to 
attach any significance to these numbers, though they are supposed, and are used, to 
define a constituent. There is nothing to indicate the presence or magnitude of 
perturbing constituents, and nothing to show whether the whole of the constituents 
have been dealt with or not. The whole process is repeated for each of the 
constituents expected to be present. As instruments for research these methods are 
singularly ineflScient, the paucity and uncertainty of the results being in remarkable 
contrast to the magnitude of the work required. 

§ 17. Darwin's method of analysis of observations. — A method which ranks as a 
great improvement on those discussed in § 16 was introduced by Darwin in his paper 
on the abacus. The method is only applied to the group of constituents whose 
speeds are nearly equal to those of the principal solar constituents ; the constituents 
Kg, Eg, Sj and Tj are all nearly equal in speed, and are treated over a short interval 
of time as having the speed of Sj. For successive intervals the values of Ajand Bg 
would be constant if only Sg were present, but in the case considered they vary 
harmonically, and analyses of the variations give the harmonic numbers for the 
four constituents. 

This method will now be considered in more detail. The exposition here given 
is different from that by Darwin, and the method has been generalised to some 

Suppose that we are dealing with a constituent R cos (at - 1) whose value is 
given at intervals of one mean solar hour. Then the contribution to A„ and B„ in 
the analysis for solar constituents will be 

A" = —^ 2R cos (o-i - f) cos \b°nt = kt^ 2R | cos ((r-15«i - e)° + cos ((r+15«< - 6)° | 


B„ = Znxx 2R cos {at — e) sin \h°nt — ,ct^ 2R < — sin (o- — 1 bnt — f) + sin (a + \5nt — e 

where the summations are taken from t = 24T to 24T + 24N — 1 , so that it is supposed 
that the summations begin at zero hour on day T and include all the hourly values 
of the constituent over N complete days. 
These may be written as 

An=/'R cos (6'-24<7T)+/'R cos (e"-24<rT), 

B„=/'R sin (6'-24<rT)+/"R sin («"-24(rT), 


,,_ sin 12N (a-15n)° .„_ sin 12N((r + 1 ■5ra)° 

24N sin i((r-15w)°' 24N sin i((r + 15»)°' 

€" = f- 12N((r- 15«)° + ^{a - lon)° 

e" = f-12N((r-15«)° + K"'+15«)° = ^'+ '5«°, 
certain multiples of 360° having been ignored. 



^„ = Fcos(ij-pT) I 
3„ = Fsiii(r,-^T), J 

. (1) 

It is now convenient to write these in the form 

A„ = Fcos (i?-pT) 


F cos 7)=/'R CCS (' +/"R cos e", 

F sin T) =/'R sin t' +/"R sin e", 

and p is the equal to 24((r— 15«)° : it differs from the true speed in degrees per mean 
solar day only by a multiple of 360°. We shall speak of F, v and p as the ' reduced 
values ' of R, 6 and a. We now obtain 


(F/Ry^f^ +/""- + 2 f'f" cos \o°n 

. , ,, /"sinl5°» 
tan (t) - € ) = --^ 

/' +/" cos 15°/t 


As, however, we shall not have occasion to use values of N other than N = 30 the 
relations between F and R, t; and e may be given once for all in a numerical form 
for convenient values of p. The value of e — tj is practically the same for all values 
of 71, but the ratio of R to F varies with n. 

« = 

« = 1 

w = 2 


6 „ 







































Having obtained A,„ B,; for all the values of n, each pair of harmonic numbers 
is treated separately, so that we shall now omit the suflBx w. 

If p is zero then A and B are constants ; if p is not zero then both A and B vary 
harmonically with the period 360/p days. We shall get what we may call ' conjugate 
constituents ' with the same period if the values of p are equal and opposite in sign. 
Thus R„ and T, with p= ± 0-9856 are conjugate with respect to Sj. Now, in general, 
we shall have several constituents occurring together so that we shall have 

A = F„ cos T)„ + 2 JF, cos (r7,-p,T) + F',. cos (v'r + p,T)|, ) 
B = F„sin r,„ + 2 {F, sin (7?,-/),T) + FV sin (t)',. + p,T)}, j 


and we can consider p,- as positive. These may be written as 
A = A(.y + 2 (A,.,, cos p,.T + Agr sin p^T) 


B = B,„ + 2 (B,, cos p,T + B,, sin p,T) 



Ac-„ = F„ cos Vo. 

Aj.,. = F,. cos ri,. + F'r cos v'r, 
B„- = - Fr cos 7)r -t F',. COS 7)',., 

Therefore we have 

F, cos V = i(A, r - B.r), F,. sin v,- = K-"^ .■ + B,r) 

F/ cos v/ = KAcr + B,,), F,.' sin v'r = U - A„ + B,,) 



Bj„ = F„ sin r;„ 

Aj,. = F,. sin 7),.-F',. sin rj'^ 

Bs,. ^ F,- sin 7),. + FV sin -n',. 





The application of the least square rule to (4) gives, for example, 

iA<;r-=L^ ^"2 Acosp,.T , . . . (7) 

Theoretically, therefore, we can obtain Ac,-, Agr and thence P,-, Vr by (6) ; 

application of the table given above determines the corresponding values of 
R and e. 

In the simple case considered by Darwin the periods are exactly a year and half 
a year, and he was able to apply the least square rule to twelve values with N = 30 and 
T such that p,.T is very nearly a multiple of 30°. The perturbation of one constituent 
upon another was negligible so far as constituents of the solar group were concerned. 
Some perturbation, however, was caused by M, with f>=— 24-38. Taking T at 
intervals of about 30-5 days on the average gives pT about -741°, or ' apparently ' 
- 24°. The residual effect of M^ is therefore to give a perturbation which is approxi- 
mately annual in period. Darwin makes corrections for this perturbation. In the 
present paper we shall not have occasion to consider such perturbations, as we are 
not dealing with observations but with residues. 

§ 18. Analysis of residues.— When the chief constituents have been subtracted 
from the tidal observations there is greater freedom possible in the details of 
analysis. In the analysis of observations there are two kinds of errors, the first being 
due to the methods of assignment, which introduce errors in the constituent sought 
whether other constituents be present or not. The second kind of error is due 
entirely to the presence of other constituents. In both cases the error is proportional 
to the size of the constituent producing it, and if the chief constituents be removed 
the methods of analysis can be applied to the residues without serious error. If we 
consider the errors due to the assignment as negligible or adequately corrected by 
the multiplying factor previously mentioned, then we can apply more generally 
Darwin's method as given for the solar constituents. 

The exposition of Darwin's method in § 17 can be generalised simply by writing 
' special time.' for ' mean solar time.' If the heights are given (or obtained roughly 
by assignment) at intervals of one special hour, then the speed per special hour is 
15%° aiTd p (in special time) is zero for the constituent appropriate to the special 
time. As an example the L.,-group of constituents includes L., with speed = 29-5285° 
per m.s.h. and K. mth speed" = 29-4356° per m.s.h. In special (or L„) time the speed 
of L2 becomes 30° per L.„h. and the speed of K becomes 

29-4556 X 30° ^gg.Q^ggo t j^ 

corresponding to p= 1-7784°. The constituent Aj, therefore, will give approximately 
semi-annual variations in the A and B obtained by the ' L„ process.' By the ' L„ 
process ' is meant the analysis as for L,. 

Darwin's method is applicable wherever there are groups of constituents whose 
speeds are nearly equal. Tidal constituents are supjaosed to be separable from one 
year's observations only, so that two constituents are not separable in a year unless 
their speeds, true or reduced, differ by a multiple of approximately 360° per mean 
solar year, corresponding to a difference of approximately 1° in p. Now the con- 
stituents occur in groups such that there is a difference in speed of about 12° per 
mean solar day from group to group. It is necessarj^ to choose N such that one 
group has very little effect upon the results of analyses relating to another group. 
If we consider the account of the method in §17 it will be found that the ratio F/R 
depends chiefly upon /', and this vanishes for 24 (<r — 15»)° = 12° when N is a 
multiple of fifteen days. It will be sufficient, therefore, to take N = 30, say, in all 
cases whether we are dealing with solar or special time. 

Darwin's method is to take his thirty-day intervals running almost consecutively, 
but by so doing the most is not made of the material. In the present investigation 
the interval is taken as thirty days, but the intervals overlap, so that analyses are 
carried out for N = 30 and T = 0, 10, . . . This is obviously effected by taking 

N = 10, T = 0, 10 and then averaging the values of A (and B) in threes to 

correspond to N = 30. 

The methods are now easily explained by references to actual analyses and we 
shall first study the case of M^. The hourly heights (mean solar time) were assigned 


to M,-time in the usual B.A. manner,^ and were then treated in sections of ten lunar 
days. For each hour series in the section the heights were averaged, giving twenty- 
four values for submission to harmonic analysis, by the least square rule, for a 
semi-diurnal constituent. The results are shown in Table I., cols. 2 and 6; aver- 
aging these results in threes gives the values of A and B in cols. 2 and 7 ; these 
correspond to N = 30, T = 0, 10, . . . . The diminution of range is obviously due tc 
the diminution of the effects of other groups. If these results are plotted, as is 
done in fig. 7, a very striking effect is shown : there is a well-marked variation fn 
the values of A and B with a period somewhat less than three months. There is 
nothing in Darwin's schedules of constituents to explain this perturbation; it 
cannot possibly arise from another group because a difference in speed of 12° or 
13° per day would require a true amplitude (R) about 0-7 foot ! 

Thus the method has already shown the existence of one constituent previously 
unsuspected : it may be repeated that the ordinary methods of analysis would have 
given one A and one B for an arbitrarily fixed interval, and thus no new constituent 
would have been revealed. We can now consider the calculation of the most trust- 
worthy values of A(.„ and B,,„, corresponding to the constituent M, ; shall we simply 
take the average of all the values of A, or shall we take the average over a definite 
interval of time determined by considerations cf relative speeds of M„ and S„, say, 
or by the relative speeds of the perturbing constituents indicated in the figure 7 
The problem is rather complex if we are limited to rigid arithmetical methods, 
obviouslj', if we choose an interval to satisfy one condition it may happen that the 
other constituents have their greatest effect in it. Further, in this case we do not 
know exactly the speed of the perturbing constituent. The only satisfactory solu- 
tion of the problem is to use the idea of an ' asymptotic mean ' and to discard 
altogether the idea of attempting to fix a criterion tor choosing the interval for 
analysis. Suppose that we sum the values of A consecutively, writing down the 
sum 2 in col. 4, Table I., and then divide each sum by M, the number of contributory 
values of A, as in col. .5, then the asymptotic mean is the limiting value of this 
average (2/M) as M increases indefinitely ; i.e. the asymptotic mean is defined, as in 

§ 18 (7), by 1 loS^-i' 

±L M ^ ^T 

M-».a> T=0 

Here the suflBx T is used to denote the value of A in the thirty-day interval com- 
mencicg on day T. The values of 2/M are plotted in Fig. 7, and the dotted lines 
give approximately the tendency of the curves. The oscillations about the dotted 
line diminish in range as M increases, and there is a tendency for the line to reach 
a constant value — the asymptotic mean. Of course, in this case, with only six 
months' residues submitted to anal3'sis, it is impossible to give a reallj' definitive 
value to the asymptotic mean, but it is possible to give a much better value to A<;„ 
than would result from numerical methods with an arbitrarily fixed interval. These 
curves provide an interesting commentary on the accuracy of the ' constants ' usually 

In the case of M, there are no obvious semi-annual oscillations in A and B, 
though there may be some annual oscillation ; analyses from six months' residues do 
not suffice for dealing with these. 

A very interesting case is that of the L, group. Darwin's schedules of constituents 
indicate only L^ and A,, and the latter would give semi-annual variations in Lj (A, B). 
Table (II.) gives the values of A and B by the Lj process, in columns 2 and 6 for 
N = 30. The values of 2/M are illustrated in fig. 8. 

It is rather difficult to determine Acq and Bjo satisfactorily because of the large 
perturbing constituents. It is an advantage to be able to remove even crude 
approximations to these before proceeding further, but in this case they are small 
and are allowed to stay. The value of p for X^ ^^^ been given as — 1-778° and we 
shall write 

Pj, = 1-778°; 

the suffix here denotes that the variation is semi-annual. 

■■ For technical terms and explanations reference should be made to the Report 
by Professor Proudman, 1920. 


We now form A cos p^T. A sin p^T, B cos p.T, B sin pjT, as in Table III. When 
M is large we shall have from (7) § 18, 

Asymptotic mean of A cos p^T = ^A.c2 
„ „ A sin p2T = |A82 

„ ,, Bcosp2T = iB,2 

„ „ B sinpjTs^B^^ 

Determining these means as nearly as possible we have 

F,cos7,,= iAo,-iB,,= -•003--012=--015 

F2sinr,,= iA.,, + iB»2= -OOO+Ol-l^ "044 

F'^ cos 7,-2= AA,2 + iBc2=--003 + -012= 009 

F'„sin r,'2= -|A,, + AB%= --000+ 044= -044 
Hence we have two constituents 

F„ cos (7j.-p2T) = -047 cos (109° -p,T) 
F\ cos (r,'j + p2T)= 0J5 cos (78° + pJ) 

The latter of these gives the constituent Aj. 

Now using the table of §17 we have (R,e) respectively equal to (047, 135°), and 
(•045, 52°), the latter giving X^- 

The presence of the constituent 'conjugate' to K^ with p = 1-778° in L^time is very 
interesting, especially when it turns out to be as important as A,. Again we have 
an unsuspected constituent, but a word of caution must be given. Our analysis has 
assumed the presence of two constituents with equal and opposite values of p, and 
indeed this is often the case, but here we can assert nothing about the unknown 
constituent except that it has p approximately =2°, and without more definite 
information as to the value of p the above figures are not to be considered as definitive 
for this constituent. It is not inappropriate to add that though we may not get 
pairs of values of p to be equal and opposite in sign yet the tidal constituents in- 
dicated by the potential are such that the relation is nearly true, and any correction 
necessary could easily be applied, provided that the true values of p are icnown. 

It was considered to be of interest to see the results after the two disturbing 
constituents had been removed, and cols. 10 and 11, Table II., give the residual A 
and B ; these are plotted in fig. 8. An independent deduction of A^^ and Bs„ from 
these figures confirms the values previously obtained from the original A and B ; we 

A«, =-010, B,„ =-025 

whence the L^ constituent in the residue is 

•027 cos ((r<-68°). 

These examples are sufficient to illustrate the methods. In practically all cases 
approximate quarter-annual perturbations in the A and B have been found. The 
cause of these is obscure and the matter is still under investigation. 



Table I. — Mo Process. 




N = 10 


N = 30 



N = 10 


N = 30 




































































































- 722 






























































Fig. 7.— Mj Process. 



Table II.— L 

J Process. 


N = 30 


cos P2T 

sin p^T 

A cos 

A sin 

B cos 

B sin 






















■028 ; 

































-•002 1 






























































































- 629 





- 023 











- 033 














— 10 


Fig. 8. — L, Process. 





Fig. 9.— L2 Process. 
(After removal of \ and its conjugate.) 

§ 19. Results of analyses.— Yox the constituents M^, S,„ N., K^, L.^ the results of 
anal3'ses of the residues are tis follows ; each constituent is expressed in the form 

R cos ((Ti — e). 

M2 Sj Nj K2 Lj 

•060 -OSS -166 -100 -027 

297° 87° 251° 87° 68° 


The full list of constituents removed from the record for 1918 is now given : the 
results for the five constituents given above have been combined with the first 
approximations given in § 10. 




K, 1 













•502 1 
320-41° 2 

-273 -047 5-636 -100 
55^35° 52-00° 210-28° 323-00° 



















I There has also been removed the quarter-diurnal tide represented hv the i factor 
•0225 and phase shift 96° applied to the quarter-diurnal portion of the square of 
I the semi-diurnal tide. 


The harmonic constants (H, k) are as follows : — 



































These are obtained from (R,€) by multiplying R by a certain factor depending 
upon the longitude of the moon's node, and by adding to e the 'astronomical 
argument. ' 


Tests on the Accuracy of Tide-predicting Machines. 

In collaboration -with the Hydrographic Department of the Admiralty and -with 
the National Physical Laboratory, it has been possible to use the Newlyn calcula- 
tions for a direct test on two tide-predicting machines. The Report for 1920 gives 
certain indirect tests where predictions from two machines are compared, and the 
absolute errors of each are unknown. The harmonic numbers used to represent the 
five chief semi-diurnal constituents for Newlyn were supplied to the Hydrographer 
and to Mr. Selby, of the N.P.L., for use with Mr. Roberts' machine (R) and the India 
Office machine (N) respectively. The curves for six months were forwarded to the 
Tidal Institute, where they were read and compared with the calculations. 

Measurements of heights at intervals of four hours, and of heights and times of H. 
and L.W. were made on nineteen days at intervals of ten days, and every effort -was 
made to ensure the greatest possible degree of accuracy in measurement. The machine 
scales were, in height, one inch to a foot, and, in time, one inch to four hours ; con- 
sequently the gradients were sometimes very steep and measurements were difficult 
to make. The errors of measurement are essentially random, and not systematic, 
errors. The calculations are correct to within 001 foot in height and one minute in 
time. The errors are taken as machine value minus calculated value. 

High and Low Water Heights (feet). 

Range ol error 



' Throw 


. H.W. 


-•10 to -^24 
-■07 to -^21 




N -machine 

.. H.W. 

■00 to --13 
■U9 to --05 

•00 . 



By the ' throw ' of the machine is meant the distance from maximum to minimum in 
the tide. In these cases H.W. are systematically too low and L.W. systematically 
too high by about •QSS foot when the zero error is corrected. 


High and Lorv Water Times (minutes). 

Bange o£ 

1 to 10 

to 10 

to 12 

H.W. errors 
L.W. „ 
H.W. „ 
L.W. „ 

to 13 






Greatest range 
in oae day 

to 5 

2 to 13 


Hourly Height* 



rising tide 



falling „ 



.. rising „ 


These tests indicaie : — 

falling „ 



-0 47 

(1) that both machines have zero errors in height, that of the R-machine being 

serious ; 

(2) that both machines have serious time errors averaging about 6 minutes ; 

(3) that the throw of the machines (or apparent range of tide) is deficient, 

but not seriously so ; 

(4) that the machines have no produced predictions with the accuracy 

required in research work. 

The average (or zero) errors are easily allowed for, even if the machines are not 
mechanically adjusted. There are certain other errors which may be serious, e.g. 

the variation of the H. and L.W. time error from two to thirteen minutes in one day 

apart from the zero error the performance of the R-machine is more creditable than 
that of the N-machine in this respect. 

The tests have been made with the machine scales used commercially. The time 
scale could be altered i£ greater accuracy were desired. It may be stated that 
six mins is represented by one-fortieth of an inch on the chart and that this is the 
average error with very careful reading. 

Both machines agree better with one another than with calculations ; but they 
are of the same type and were built by the same maker, so that it might be expected 
that similar faults would be present. 

The above tests ought, perhaps, to be supplemented by others in which the 
machines are more fully used ; the present tests hare only used five constituents out 
of the twenty or thirty represented on the machines. 

In connection with methods of research (Part II.) it may be remarked that the 
machines would have been useless for the purpose covered by the scheme for 
prediction (§ 12), and the labour of reading the curves with any pretence to accuracy 
is quite comparable with the labour of direct numerical calculations, but the results 
are not comparable in value. 

Fuel Economy. — Fourth Report of Committee appointed for the In- 
vestigation of Fuel Economy, the Utilisation of Coal, and Smoke 
Prevention (Professor W. A. Bone,* Chairman; Mr. H. James 
Yates,* Vice-Chairmun ; Mr. Egbert Mond,* Secretary; Mr. 
A. H. Barker, Professor P. P. Bedson, Dr. W. S, 
BouLTON, Mr. E. Bury, Professor W. E. Dalby, Mr*. 
E. V. Evans,* Dr. W. GAiiLOWAY,* Sir Robert Had- 
FiELD, Bart.,* Dr. H. S. Hele-Shaw,* Mr. D. H. Helps, 
Dr. G. HicKLiNG, Mr. D. V. Hollingworth, Mr. A. 
Hutchinson,* Mr. S. R. Illing worth, Principal G. Knox, Pro- 
fessor Henry Louis,* Mr. H. M. Morgans, Mr. W. H. 
Patchell,* Mr. A. T. Smith, Dr. J. E. Stead, Mr. G. E. 
Stromeyer, Mr. G. Blake Walker, Sir Joseph Walton, M.P.,* 
Professor W. W. Watts,* and Mr. 0. H. Wordingham*). 
Note. — * Denotes a member of the Executive Committee. 

Owing to two unforeseen causes, namely (1) the unprecedentedly difficult and 
anxious industrial situation during the past autumn and winter, accentuated, 
as it was, by the stoppage of the coal mines in October last, and culminating in 
the great coal-strike of this year, and (2) the sudden and serious illness of the 



Chairman in February last (now, however, safely passed through), necessitating 
his relinquishing all his professional work and public duties for three months, 
the Committee has not been able to fulfil the programme of work which it 
proposed a year ago. Accordingly, it cannot present this year anything in the 
nature of an extended Report, but must confine itself to a brief general state- 
ment as to the present fuel situation, and to the importance of its future work 
and plans in relation thereto. 

The Coal Situation. — In its previous Reports, and particularly in the one 
presented at Bournemouth in 1919, the Committee has repeatedly warned the 
country of the serious economic dangers attendant upon the rapidly increasing 
cost of producing coal in British mines. Last year it published official 
statistics showing how rapidly our coal export trade was declining. Some 
important statistics upon these points were given in a paper upon ' The 
Economics of the South Wales Coalfield,' which Mr. Hugh Bramwell read at 
the joint meeting of this Committee with that of the South Wales Institute 
of Engineers at Cardiff on August 26, 1920. Among them were the following 
which, referring to a group of South Wales collieries, 'illustrate in detail the 
relation between the production per person employed p<er pit worl^ing day and 
the earnings per person employed, also per pit working day, for the past six 
years, plotted weekly, and averaged each six months ' : — 











per pit 

per pit 



3. d. 



No. 1 Pay 1915 to No. 22 Pay 1916. 

Prior to 15 per cent, advance 

7 1-30 



No. 23 Pay 1916 to No. 37 Pay 1917. 

Period of 15 per cent, advance . 

8 11-40 



No. 38 Pay 1917 to No. 26 Pay 1918. 

1 st War Wage addition 

10 8-79 



No. 27 Pay 1918 to No. 1 Pay 1919. 

2nd War Wage addition . 

11 11-03 



No. 2 Pay 1919 to No. 29 Pay 1919. 

Sankey Wage addition 

13 7-84 



No. 30 Pay 1919 to No. 17 Pay 1920. 
Hours reduced 8 to 7 and piecework 

rates increased by 14-2 per cent. 

14 3-15 



No. 1 8 Pay 1 920. Additional 20 per cent, 
on earnings ..... 


On March 11 last the Secretary for Mines officially reported the following 
comparative statistics concerning our British coal industry in the years 1913 and 
1920, respectively : — 

Average Cost of Producing a Ton of Coal in Great Britain. 


Wages .... 

Timber, Stores, and other costs 
Royalties .... 

Total Cost 

Add Owners^ pro/its 










1 6 














Average Cost of Producing Coal — continued. 

Tons. Tons. 

Total coal raised at mines 287,412,000 229,295,000 

Total coal raised per person employed at mines . 259 190 
Amount of coal shipped abroad : — 

Ascargoesi " 73,400,118 24,931,853 

As bunkers^ 21,031,550 13,840,360 

Total . 94,431,668 38,772,213 

The position thus revealed may be summed up as follows : (a) The average 
cost of producing coal at the pithead had in seven years increased nearly 
fourfold, whilst (6) the amount raised per person employed had diminished by 
more than 25 per cent., and (c) our coal exports to foreign markets (excluding 
bunkers) had fallen to one-third the pre-war amount. 

The rapidly increasing costs of producing coal in Great Britain have already 
reacted most detrimentally upon its finances and trading position. For some 
time prior to the recent strike, the cost of producing coal at the pithead had 
exceeded its selling price by several shillings per ton ; the difference had been 
made up by a subsidy from the public funds, at the expense of the taxpayer. 
The crisis was precipitated by the decision of the Government that, after 
March 31 last, this subsidy must cease, and that the coal industry must revert 
to its former position of being self-suppoiting.' The strike came as a final 
blow to the country's industries, already crippled by intolerably high coal 
prices. The coal-export trade, which for some time had been rapidly 
declining, was brought to a standstill, with disastrous effects upon the shipping 
trade. It must also be remembered that coal is the principal mineral which 
this country has to export, and that in the past our coal exports have not only 
given British ships outward cargoes and freights, but have materially helped 
to pay for the large amounts of raw materials and foodstuffs which must be 
imported to maintain our factories and workers. The recent marked con- 
traction in British coal exports, which in pre-war days easily dominated the 
overseas markets to our great advantage as a maritime Power, has coincided 
with a great expansion in American coal exports, which now seriously threatens 
our once unrivalled position. ^ 

Whilst the Committee has steadily refrained from intervening in what 
may be regarded as the political aspects of the coal question, and therefore 
expresses no opinion as to the various ex parte proposals which have been put 
forward for the future organisation of the coal trade, it is nevertheless well 
within its province to urge the necessity, from the point of view of national 
economy and well-being, of a substantial reduction in the cost of producing 
coal in this country. 

In this connection the Committee would draw attention to the weighty 
declarations made in May last by Sir Hugh Bell (as President of the Cleveland 
Mineowners' Association) and Mr. Alfred Hutchinson (one of the members of 
the Committee and President of the Cleveland Ironmasters' Association) to 
the effect that, even were the differences in the coal trade to be settled imme- 
diately, there could be no resumption of work in the iron and steel industry 
on the old scale without a very drastic reduction in coal prices. Wages, they 
said, are governed by a sliding scale ; but even when wages have been reduced 
to bed-rock, Cleveland pig iron cannot be manufactured, excluding all question 
of profit, at the price at which foreign pig iron is being delivered into this 
country, unless coke of good quality can be delivered to the furnaces at about 
27s. per ton. Mr. Maurice Deacon has recently pointed out that an even lower 
figure than this would be required if the iron trade of the Midlands is to 
continue in being. Without necessarily accepting any particular figure, the 
Committee would again emphasise the view, which it already expressed in its 
second Report — namely, the absolute dependence of the country's industrial 
system upon its ability to produce relatively cheap coal, which is, indeed, the 
keystone of its whole economic structure. 

1 When, however, the strike was finally settled on June 28 last, the Govern- 
ment agreed (subject to the consent of Parliament, which was afterwards given) 
to grant a sum not exceeding 10,000,000?. in subvention of miners' wages. 

* Vide the Appendix to this Report. 


Oil Fuel. — During the recent coal strike successful attempts have been made 
in several directions in this country to substitute oil fuel for coal. Oil has 
thus been used with good results in public electric power stations, for driving 
steam locomotives on the railways, and also in the case of several large ocean 
liners. !So many advantages are claimed for oil as agamst coal firing, m regard 
to cleanliness, labour saving, and general efficiency, that the question of now 
far such substitution can be economically kept up or extended in future will 
depend largely upon the prospects of ensuring regular and adequate supplies 
of fuel oil at reasonable prices that can be established. It woula undoubtedly 
be advantageous to the country if its power stations, railways, and other sucli 
public services could be rendered less dependent upon coal than they have 
hitherto been. Such a consideration makes it more than ever important that 
our future sources of supply of liquid fuel should be thoroughly explored, 
and therefore the Committee proposes in the immediate future to include such 
an inquiry in its programme of work. 

Federation of British Industries Fuel Economy Committee. — The Committee 
has learned v/ith much satisfaction of the establishment by the Federation of 
British Industries of a special Committee (of which Sir Robert Hadfield, 
Mr. H. James Yates, and Professor Bone are members) to assist manufacturers 
in economising coal in their operations, and of the good and effective work that 
it has already accomplished in this direction. The Committee hopes, through 
the said three members, who are common to both, to keep in touch with and 
help forward the work of this new Committee. 

The Board of Trade Gas Committees. — Since the Committee was last 
reappointed, the Board of Trade, under powers conferred upon it by the Gas 
Regulation Act, 1920, set up two ad hoc Special Committees to deal with the 
important question of whether or not it is necessary or desirable to impose any 
limitation as to the amount of (a) carbon monoxide, and [b) incombustible 
constituents ('inerts') permissible in public gas supplies. As the Committee 
had, in its Second and Third Reports, already expressed the view that such 
limitations are desirable, it appointed a Sub-Committee to arrange for its views 
being formally represented to the Board of Trade Committee. Upon the 
question of carbon monoxide, the Sub-Committee had the advantage of conferring 
with Dr. J. S. Haldane, who expressed himself entirely in agreement with the 
Committee's views that the CO-content of a public domestic gas supply ought 
not to be allowed to exceed 20 per cent. Dr. Haldane himself gave evidence 
to this effect before the Board of Trade CO-Committee on February 10 last, 
and subsequently Mr. Robert Mond presented to it the considered views of 
this Committee upon the subject, in accordance with its previous Reports. 
Owing, however, to the Chairman's illness, no formal representation was made 
about the Committee's views as to the question of the limitation of ' inerts,' 
although the Board of Trade was aware that they were in agreement with the 
recommendations made in 1918 by the Fuel Research Board. '^ 

Changes in Membership. — Since its last reappointment, Mr. W. B. Wood- 
house has resigned from the Committee, owing to pressure of other work ; and 
Mr. S. R. Ulingworth, of the Treforest School of Mines (South Wales), has 
been co-opted as a new member. 

Future Work. — In view of the serious position of the coal mining and 
consuming industries, of the increasing attention that is being given to the 
possible substitution of other fuels for coal, and therefore of the consequent 
continued need of a body of disinterested scientific experience and opinion 
that can be brought to bear upon the various aspects of the fuel question, the 
Committee asks for reappointment for another year, for the purpose of com- 
pleting the investigations outlined in its Third Report a year ago, with a grant 
of 351. The patronage and help of the Committee has also been requested in 
connection with the proposed Smoke Abatement Exhibition to be held in London, 
in March and April 1922, under the auspices of the Coal Smoke Abatement 

8 Three members of the Committee (Messrs. E. V. Evans, D. H. Helps, and 
H. James Yates) were, however, of the opinion that, in view of the provisions 
of the Gas Regulation Act, 1920, for the future sale of gas on a thermal basis, 
gas undertakings should be allowed a free hand in regard to carbon monoxide 
and inerts. 



Some Comparative Statistics for British and American Coal Exports for the 
Years 1913 and 1920 respectively. 

In amplification of what has been said in the main Report about the 
threatened loss of our once dominant coal-export trade, the following com- 
parative statistics (recently published in ' Imperial Commerce and Affairs,' 
Vol. II., No. 6, pp. 30-31) may be quoted :— 

(1) In the year 1913 the United States exported altogether 20,708,582 tons 

of anthracite and bituminous coals, of which, however, only about 
five million tons went overseas ; some 14,482,929 tons of bituminous 
coals went overland into Canada. In the sijme year Great Britain 
exported to other countries no less than 73,400,118 tons of coal 
(excluding ships' bunl^ers). Thus it would appear that in 1913 Great 
Britain sent overseas about fifteen tons of coal to every ton sent 
overseas from the United States. 

(2) In the year 1920 the British coal exports (excluding bunkers) had 

declined to 24,931,853 tons, whilst those of the United 'States had 
increased to 39,215,030 tons, of which nearly 25 million tons went 
overseas. In other words, whilst our overseas coal trade had shrunk 
to about one-third of its pre-war dimensions, that of the United 
States had increased fivefold. 

(3) The United States has already made great inroads into the European 

coal markets, selling 10.240,422 tons of bituminous coals (besides some 
anthracite) there in 1920. She has also almost captured the Central 
and South American coal markets, where we were once supreme; for 
whilst our coal exports to Central and South America had fallen 
from upwards of 17 million tons in 1913 to rather less than 3.7 million 
tons in 1920, those of the United States had increased something 
like tenfold. 
London, June 30, 1921. William A. Bone. 

Non-aromatic Diazonium Salts* — Beport of Committee (Dr. 
P. D. Chatt.wvay, Chainnan; Prof. G. T. Morg.\n, Secretary; 
Mr. P. G. W. B.4lYly, and Dr. N. V. Sidgwick. Drawn ^ip by 
Prof. G. T. Morgan and Mr. Henry Burgess). 

Eecent investigations have shown that several series of non-aromatic primary amines 
possess in varying degrees the property of diazotisability. In certain cases the 
existence of a diazo-derivative is inferred from tlie property of coupling to form 
azo-derivatives or from the fact that the diazo-group can be replaced by other radicals 
such as chlorine, but in other instances diazonium salts have actually been isolated. 
These non-aromatic diazonium salts vary considerably in stability from the excep- 
tionally stable diazonium salts of the pyrazole series 10 the explosive diazo-deriva- 
tives of the thiazole group. Orientation plays an important part in the stability of 
these compounds, as is shown below in the case of the pyrazole and pyridine 

The requisite properties for diazotisability appear to be the presence of the group 

HjN — C and the possession of a certain degree of unsaturation in the cyclic system 

in which this carbon atom is included. But it must not be assumed that any base 
having the foregoing group and belonging to an unsaturated cyclic system is neces- 
sarily diazotisable. The absence of diazotisability is noteworthy in the thiophen, 
furane and pyrrole series in spite of the close relationship between the first of these 
series and the aromatic compounds. 

Pyrazole Series. 

In this group the effect of orientation on the stability of the diazonium salts is 
well marked. 4-Amino-.3 : .5-dimethylpyrazole when diazotiped in the usual manner 
furnishes 3:5dimethyl pyrazole-4-diazonium chloride stable in hot aqueous solutions 



and up to 150° C. in the dry state. This salt, which retains its diazo nitrogen and 
coupling power for an indefinite time, gives rise to sparingly soluble diazonium 
platinichloride and aurichloride.' Other 4-aminopyrazole derivatives yield sitnilarly 
stable diazo-derivatives.^ 

When the diazonium group is in position 5 the product is distinctly less stable, for 
l.Phenyl-3-methyl-4-ethylpyrazole-5-diazonium chloride decomposes at room tem- 
J)erature in a few hours, and quickly on warming.^ l-Phenyl-3-methyl-5-aminopyrazole I 
containing a labile hydrogen atom in position 4 gives only 12 per cent, of diazoniuin 


"h ^ 












\c : NOH 
= C-CH, 

Substitution of the labile hydrogen by an alkyl group prevents the second reaction, 
and diazotisation takes place quantitatively. 

In the case of l-Phenyl-3-methyl-4'amino-5-anilinopyrazole an azimino compound 
II is formed unless diazotisation is carried out in strong acid."* 

I \CNH, + H0N0 

C,H,-N C— NH 






// >N 




4 2H,0 


On adding a solution of any diazonium salt of the general formula III to boiling 
dilute sulphuric acid the diazonium nitrogen is retained and a triazine IV is produced. 





— -> 





:CN:N + H,SO 






R = an alkyl group. 

In this series replacement of the diazonium complex by iodine ^ and by the 
triazo group has been effected. It is noteworthy that 4-triazo-3 : 5-dimethylpyrazole V, 
a well-defined crystallisable compound, has the remarkable property of giving 
distinctive colour reactions with all phenolic substances not containing nitro-groups. 








= CCH, 

' Morgan & Reilly, T. 1914, 105, 435. ^Knorr, B. 1895, 28, 717; Michaelis & 
Schafer, A. 1915, 407, 229 ; Michaelis & Bressel, .4. 191S, 407, 274. ' Mohr, 
J. Pr. Chem. 1914, 90, (ii) 509. ' Michaelis & Schafer, loc. cit. ^ Knorr, loc. cit. 

Pyrazolone Series. 

Very stable salts are obtained on diazotising the hydrochlorides of the amino- 
pyrazolones ; the products are crystallisable from hot aqueous solutions, and are stable 
in a dry state for an indefinite time.' The acid diazonium salts, VI, from amino 
antipyrine ^ are exceptionally stable and re-crystallisable and in these respects are 


unlike the decomposable acid diazonium salts of the aromatic series.' Double 
salts with auric chloride and platinic chloride have been prepared and are stable up 
to 120° C. in the dry state.- 

-CH3N CCH3 -1 CH3N CCH3 

I ^C-NXl I HCl ^ I \c-N, 

•QH^-N CO J, . C«H,N CO 


Diazoaniino derivatives are formed with fatty amines such as dimethylamine and 
are stable up to 120° C, when they begin to decompose into the amine and a complex 
pyrazolone derivative, the constitution of which has not been settled.' In this 
series, as in the pyrazoles, the diazonium complex has been replaced by iodine ^ and 
by the triazo group" VII, but reduction with stannous chloride does not lead to a 
readily isolated hydrazine, probably owing to condensation taking place with the 
carbonyl group in the ring.^ 

' Knorr & Geuther, A. 1896, 293, 55; Knorr & Stolz, A. 1896, 293, 58; 
Michaelis, A. 1906, 350, 288. '' Morgan & Eeilly, T. 191.3, 103, 808, 1494 
' Hirsch, 5. 1897, 30, 1148; Hantzsch, ibid. 1153. ' Stolz, B. 1908, 41, 3849. 
5 Michaelis, loc. cit. " Forster & Muller, T. 1909, 95, 2072. 

Iso-oxazole Series. 

4-Amino-3-5-dimethyliso-oxazole has recently been prepared and diazotised. The 
diazonium chloride VIII is very soluble and is much less stable than the correspond- 
ing pyrazole compound. The diazonium aurichloride is sparingly soluble and stable 
on keeping in the dry state at the ordinary temperature.' 

CMe CMe CMe 

I ^C-NH-NH, ^- j ^C-N,C1 ^ I '^C-N3 

N^r^C-Me N=C-Me N=^C-Me 


CMe O CMe C-Me 

I "^C-I I '^C-N:N-NH-C'^ I 

N=^C-Me N CMe C-Me=N 


The diazonium complex is readily replaced by the triazo group IX and by 
iodine XI. The diazonium chloride reacts, with the base forming a well-defined 
colourless diazoamine XII, and is reduced by stannous chloride to the hydrochloride 
of the hydrazine X. 

' Morgan & Burgess, T. 1921, 119, 697. 

Glyoxaline Series. 

The bases of this group have not been studied exhaustively as regards diazotis- 
ability, but 2-aminoglyoxaline when treated successively with nitrous acid and 
alkaline ^-naphthol gave a brownish-red, soluble azo derivative, which does not appear 
to have been isolated.' 

' Pyman & Fargher. T. 1919, 115, 247. 


Triazole Series. 

When 5-aminotriazoles are diazotised in hydrochloric acid solution the resulting 
salt decomposes fairly quickly at 0° C. into nitrogen and the corresponding chloro- 
triazole.' If, however, oxy-acids are used instead of hydrochloric acid, more stable 
diazonium salts are obtained, although these are too unstable to be isolated.^ The 
sparingly soluble diazonium aurichloride has been isolated and is stable in the dry 
state. When a solution of the diazonium nitrate is evaporated to dryness in vacuo 
over potassium hydroxide a colourless isodiazo hydroxide is obtained, which is quite 
stable at 100° C. and couples only after being acidified. The diazonium complex is 
replaced by hydrogen on reduction with alcohol, and with stannous chloride the 
hydrazine is obtained.' 

1 Thiele & Manchot, A. 1898, 303, 33. " Morgan & Eeilly, T. 1916, 109, 155. 

Thiazole Series. 

2-Aminothiazole reacts in the same way as aminotriazole with nitrous acid. In 
hydrochloric acid solution an unstable diazonium cliloride is produced. This de- 
composes rapidly at 0° C. into nitrogen and chlorothiazole. Oxy-acids give more 
stable salts, especially sulphuric acid. The perchlorate is explosive even at 0° C. 
The yellow diazonium aurichloride is sparingly soluble and is stable in the dry state 
but becomes brown on washing with water. In feebly acid solution aqueous sodium 
nitrite gives an unstable orange-red powder, probably an isodiazo compound.' 
Keduction of the diazonium sulphate with alcohol causes the replacement of the 
diazonium complex by hydrogen.'^ 

• Morgan & Morrow, T. 1915, 107, 1291. = Hantzseh & Popp, A. 1889, 250, 274. 

Pyridine and Quinoline Series. 

Nitrous acid acts on the amines derived from these bodies in the same way. The 
o and 7 amines when treated in hydrochloric acid solution yield forthwith the corre- 
sponding chloro derivatives. This reaction suggests a rapid decomposition of a probable 
intermediate diazonium chloride.' Oxy-acids have not been used and these would 
probably give better results. The ^-amines form diazonium chlorides, which do not 
appear to have been isolated but liave been coupled with phenols.- The corresponding 
0/3-diazoaminopyridine is a yellow, crystalline, stable compound.-' 

' Marckwald, B. 1898, 31, 2496 ; B. 1894, 27, 1325 ; H. Meyer, Monatsch. 1894, 
15, 173 ; Glaus & Howitz, J. Pr. Chem. 1894, (ii) 50, 23. ■•' Mohr, B. 1898, 31, 
2495 ; Watson & Mills, T. 1910, 97, 743. ^ Mohr, loc. cit. 


Photographs o£ Geological Interest, — Twentieth Report of Com- 
mittee (Professors E. J. Garwood, Chairman, and S. H. Reynolds, 
Secretary ; Mr. G. Binoley, Dr. T. G. Bonney. Messrs. C. V. Crook 
and W. Gray, Dr. R. Kidston, Mr. A. S. Reid, Sir J. J. H. Teall, 
Professor W. W. Watts, Mr. R. Welch, and Mr. W. Whitaker). 
Drawn up by the Secretary. 

The Committee have to state that since the issue of the previous Report (Bourne- 
mouth, 1919) 223 photographs have been added to the collection which now numbers 

The most extensive set numbering 46 is one illustrating the Suffolk coast ; this 
was presented some years ago by the late W. Jerome Harrison, but has not hitherto 
been listed. The Secretary contributes sets from the Bristol district. West Yorkshire 
and Galloway, and Mr. B. Hobson photographs from Cornwall, Devon, and various 
parts of Scotland and Ireland. Special mention must be made of an admirable series 
by Mr. J. Ritchie illustratmg the Bennachie storm-burst of 1891. Mr. Ritchie also 
sends some excellent views from Banff. 

The Committee are very glad to welcome new contributors in Mi'. J. J. Hartley 
who sends jJrints from the Lake District and Jersey, in Mr. R. Parker Smith who 
illustrates subjects from Stafford and Cardigan, in Mr. E. C. Martin who sends an 
excellent and well-described set from Carnarvon, and in Mr. E. W. Tunbridge who 
contributes a valuable series from Pembroke. The Committee are much indebted 
to Mr. J. F. N. Green for further detail regarding some of the views from the Lake 
district and Pembroke. 

Other prints have been sent by Mr. C. Buckingham and Mr. P. C. Dutton and a 
set of Scottish subjects has been printed from negatives taken by the late G. W. 
Palmer, M.A. 

In their previous rejiort the Committee expressed the hope that before the issue of 
the next report the new series of Geological photographs which had so long been under 
consideration would be published. With this end in view, a selection of suitable 
subjects was made, and circulars were sent out to former subscribers and to practically 
all the universities and other institutions likely to subscribe all over the world. 
Probably owing to the general imjjoverishment due to the War, the response was most 
disappointing, only thirty-five ai3i)lications for the new issue having been received, 
while for the previous issue the subscribers numbered 235. Still fewer apijlications 
were received for the reissue of the earlier set. It is clear, therefore, that nothing 
can be done at present as regards a new issue, but it is intended to move again in 
the matter when conditions become more favourable. 

The Committee recommend that they be reajipointed. 


From September 1, 1919, to August 31, 1921. 

List of the geological photographs received and registered by the Secretary of 
the Committee since the publication of the last Reijort. 

Contributors are asked to affix the registered numbers, as given below, to their 
negatives, for convenience of future reference. Their own numbers are added in order 
to enable them to do so. Copies of photographs desired can, in most instances, be 
obtained from the photographer direct. The cost at which copies may be obtained 
depends on the size of the print and on local circumstances over which the Committee 
have no control. 

The Committee do not assume the copyright of any jihotograph included in this 
list. Inquiries resjjecting photographs, and applications for permission to reproduce 
them, should be addressed to the photographers direct. 

Copies of photographs should be sent, unmounted, to 

Professor S. H. Reynolds, 

The University, Bristol. 

T 2 


accompanied by descriptions written on a form prepared for the purpose, copies of 
which may be obtained from him. 

The size of the photographs is indicated as follows : — 

L=Lantem size. 1/1= Whole plate. 

1/4= Quarter-plate. 10/8=10 inches by 8. 

l/2=Half -plate. 12/10=12 inches by 10, &c. 

E signifies Enlargement. 


Cornwall. — Photographed by B. Hobson, M.Sc, F.G.S., 20 Hallamgate 

Road, Sheffield. 1/4. 

5846 (v.4) Gunwalloe . . . Folded Veryan strata. 1913. 

Cumberland. — Photographed by J. J. Hartley, Church Walk, 
Amhleside. Postcard size. 

5847 (5) Between Watch Hill and Elva Columnar felsite. 1920. 

Hill, Coekermouth. 

5848 (10) Caldew Valley . . . Water- worn surface of altered and con- 

torted Skiddaw slate. 1920. 

5849 (11) Threlkeld .... Slickensided fault plane in Microgranite. 


Devonshire. — Photographed by B. Hobson, M.Sc, F.G.S., 
20 Hallamgate Road, Sheffield. 1/4 

5850 (263) Horse Cove, Dawlish . Honeycomb weathering and fault in L. 

Sandstone (Permian). 1906. 

Dorset. — Photographed by E. C. Martin, B.Sc, 20 Derby Road, 
Woodford, London, E. 18. 1/4. 

5851 (273) ' Fossil Forest,' Lulworth . Tufa-coated tree stumps. 1910. 

Gloucester. — Photographed by Professor S. H. Reynolds, M.A., Sc.D., 

The University, Bristol. 1/2 a7id 1/4. 

5852 (9-1919) Avon Section, N. end . K-beds and top of O.R.S. 1/2. 1919. 

5853 (48-1918) „ „ „ . Succession K„, to Z,. 1/2. 1918. 

5854 (49-1918) „ „ Press' Quarry Thrust fault traversing horizon ;8. 1/2. 


5855 (50-1918) „ „ Black Rock Succession Kj to base of Cj. 1/2. 1918. 


5856 (8-1919) Avon Section . . Succession Zi to Cj. 1/2. 1919.' 

5857 (51-1918) ,, ,, from Sea General view showing succession Z, to D^. 

Walls. 1/2. 1918. 

5858 (52-1918) „ „ from Sea Ditto. 1/2. 1918. 


5859 (54-1918) „ „ The Gully Succession y to C.. 1/2. 1918. 

5860 (55-1918) Avon Section, the Gully Succession /ajramosa-dolomite to Caniwia- 

Quarry. dolomite. 1/2. 1918. 

5861 (7-1919) Avon Section, Black Rock Succession Z, to S^. 1/2. 1919. 

Quarry to Great Quarry. 

5862 (58-1918) Avon Section, N. part Si and lower part of Sj. 1/2. 1918. 

of Great Quarry. 

5863 (56-1918) Avon Section, N. end of Lower Si-beds. 1/2. 1918. 

Great Quarry. 

5864 (62-1918) Avon Section, Great Succession C,_ to Dj. 1/2. 1918. 

Quarry and cutting to N. 

5865 (59-1918) Avon Section, Great S-beds. 1/2. 1918. 



5866 (00-1918) Avon Section, Great S-beds. 1/2. 1918. 


5867 (61-iyi8) Avon Section, S. part Succession, top of Sj to base of Dj. 1/2. 

Great Quarry. 1!)1S. 

5868 (12-1919) Avon Section, Observa- Succession S, to D, repeated by the 

tory HiU. Observatory Hill Fault. 1/2. 1919. 

5869 (64-1918) Avon Section, Observa- S,-beds repeated by the Observatory 

tory Hill. 'Hill fault. 1/2. 1918. 

5870 (65-1918) Avon Section, Observa- S, and Dj beds repeated by the Observa- 

tory Hill. 'tory Hill i'ault. 1/2. 1918. 

5871 (75-1918) Avon Section, Great Peneconteniporaneous brecciation in 

Quarry. Seminula-Oolite (S.,). 1/2. 1918. 

5872 (76-1918) Avon Section, Great Seminula-FisoVite (base S.). 1/2. 1918. 


5873 (14-1919) Avon Section, Great Seminula-Fisolitc (So). 1/2. 1919. 


5874 (15-1919) Avon Section, Great ^'emj/u(k-Pisolite (S^). 1/2. 1919. 


5875 (11-1920) Avon Section, N. end of Small thrust faults in Z^. 1/4. 1920. 

Black Rock Quarry. 

5876 (20-1920) Avon Section, N. end of Patchy dolomitisation in Zj. 1/4. 1920. 

Black Rook Quarry. 

5877 (21-1920) Avon Section, S. end of Patchy dolomitisation in y. 1/4. 1920. 

Black Rock Quarry. 

5878 (9-1920) Avon Section, Great Bedding plane of shale covered with 

Quarry. Seminula. 1/4. 1920. 

5879 (22-1920) Avon Section, Great Algal Limestone in Sj. 1/4. 1920. 

Quarry, N. end. 

5880 (13-1920) Avon Section, Great ' Stick bed ' (Si), 1/4. 1920. 


5881 (3-1920) Avon Section, between Seminula-Visolite (Sj). 1/4. 1920. 

Bridge and Old Zigzag path. 

5882 (15a-1919) Avon Section, Great Block of china-stone with ' worm tubes. ' 

Quarry. 1/4. 1919. 

5883 (17-1920) Avon Section, Observa- Algal Limestone (So). 1/4. 1920. 

tory Hill, Clifton, approach to 
Susjiension Bridge. 

5884 (0-1920) Avon Section, riverside Pseudobreccia in Dj. 1/4. 1920. 

exposure S. of Point Villa. 

5885 (24-1920) Avon Section, S. of Point Band of pseudobreccia (D,). 1/4. 1920. 


5886 (25-1920) Avon Section, S. of Point Pseudobreccia in D.. 1/4. 1920. 


5887 (8-1920) Avon Section, S. of Point 


5888 (43-1920) Avon Section, S. of Point Sandy pseudobreccia in D,. 1/4. 1920. 


5889 (19-1920) Avon Section, Observa- Bedding plane of ' Concretionary beds.' 

tory Hill, Clifton. 1/4. 1920. 

5890 (77-1918) Westbury-on-Trym, near Block of Algal Limestone from top of Co. 

Greenway Farm. 1/2. 1918. 

5891 (22-1919) Near Bury Hill, Wickwar Unconformity, Dolomitic Conglomerate 

on Carboniferous Limestone. 1/2. 

5892 (20-1919) Knowle Quarry, Brentry Concretionary beds (S.,). 1/2. 1919. 

5893 (21-1919) „ 

5894 (24-1919) Chipping Sodbury Quarry 

5895 (25a-1919) „ „ „ Algal nodules, ' Concretionary beds ' (S,). 

1/4. 1919. 

5896 (23-1919) Near Bury Hill, Wickwar Algal nodules (So). 1919. 

5897 (56-1905) Bridge Valley Road, Coarse Dolomitic Conglomerate. 1/2 

Clifton, Bristol. 1905. 

5898 (57-1905) Bridge Valley Road, Coarse Dolomitic Conglomerate, 1/2. 

Clifton, Bristol. . 1905. 


5899 (58-1905) Bridge Valley Road, Coarse Dolomitic Conglomerate. 1/2. 

Clifton. Bristol. 1905. 

5900 (59-1912) Avon Section, Great Masses of LithostroHon marlini (Sj). 1/4. 

Quarry. 1912. 

5901 (11-1919) Avon Section, N. of Point D-beds and Dolomitic Conglomerate of 

Villa. Bridge Valley Road. 1/2. 1919. 

Photographed by Taunts, presented by the executors of the late 

H. B. Woodward. 

5902 Kemble Station, Cirencester . Quarry in Great Oolite. 

Hampshire (Isle of Wight). — Photographed by (purchased). 

Postcard size. 

5903 ( ) Freshwater Bay and Cliffs . The gap in the Chalk escarpment due to 

Western Yar. 

5904 ( ) The Cliffs, Chale . . Succession Chalk to Lower Greensand. 

5905 ( ) . . Lower Greensand Section. 

5906 ( ) Near Blackgang . . Upper Greensand Section. 

Photographed by E. T. W. Dennis & Sons, Ltd., London and Scarborough 

(purchased). Postcard size. 

5907 ( ) Blackgang Chine, Ventnor Lower Greensand succession and features 

of a ' Chine.' 

Kent. — Photographed by C. Buckingham, 13 York Road, Canterbury. 1/2. 

5908 (169) Drillingore Nailbourne . Usual saturation level in Olkham Valley. 


5909 (170) „ „ . Usual saturation level in Olkham Valley. 


5910 (171) „ „ . Eroded road, Olkham. 1904. 

5911 (172) „ „ . Source of 1903 and 1904 flow. 1904. 

Oxfordshire. — Photographed by E. C. Martin, B.Sc., 20 Derby Road, 
Woodford, London, E. 18. 1/4. 

5912 (301) Enslow Bridge Quarry . Clay band separating Forest Marble and 

Great Oolite. 1910. 

Somerset. — Photographed by Professor S. H. Reynolds, M.A., Sc.D., 

The University, Bristol. 1/2 and 1/4. 

5913 (72-1918) Avon Section (left bank) Block of Algal Limestone (Km). 1/2. 


5914 (79-1918) Avon Section (left bank) Brecciated Algal Limestone (Km). 1/4. 


5915 (81-1918) Avon Section (left bank) Block of Algal Limestone (Km). 1/4. 


5916 (67-1918) Avon Section (left bank) Temporary spring in quarry 1. 1/2.1918 

5917 (69-1918) Avon Section (left bank) C, and lower part of Co. 1/2. 1918. 

qu. 3. 

5918 (78-1918) Avon Section (left bank) Block of ' Concretionary ' beds (S,). 1/2. 

5S19 (33192(1) E. of Gurncy Slade, Coarse Dolomitic Conglomerate on Mill- 
Men(li])S. ' stone Grit. 1/2. 1920. 

5920 (34-1920) E. of Gurncy Slade, C<iarse Dolomitic Conglomerate on Mill- 

Mendips. stone Grit. 1/2. 1920. 

5921 (35-1920) E. of Guincy Slade, Coarse Dolomitic Conglomerate on Mill- 

Mendips. stone Grit. 1/2. 1920. 


5922 (36-1920) Railway Cutting N. of K, Section. 1/2. 1920. 

Maesbury Station. 

5923 (40-1920) Moon's Hill Quarry, Quarry in Silurian Lava (jjyroxcuo 

Stoke Lane, Mendips. Andesite). 1/2. 1920. 

5924 (37-1920) Waterlip Quarry . . Bedding planes Z.,-beds. 1/2. 1920- 

5925 (38-1920) Waterlip, near Shepton Chert in y of main quarry. 1/2. 1920. 


5926 (39-1920) Waterlip, near Shepton Chert in 7 of the small quarry. 1/2. 

Mallet. 1920. 

5927 (41-1920) Mells Quarry . . Bedding planes of pscudobrecciaDi. 1/2. 


5928 (42-1920) Gurney Slade, Mendips. Rhoetic infilling in CarhoniferDUs Linie- 

st(.)ue. 1/2. 1920. 

5929 (27-1919) Long Ashton, near Bristol Swallet near the golf course. 1/2. 1919. 

Photographed by R. Vowell Sheering, Hallatrow, near Bristol. 10 x 8. 

5930 ( ) Gumey Slade . . . Infilling of Rhatic left after removal of 

Carboniferous Limestone. 

5931 ( ) » » • • • Infilling of Rhaetic left after removal of 

Carboniferous Limestone. 

Suffolk. — Photographed by the late W. Jerome Harrison. 1/2. 

5932 (231) The Denes, Lowestoft . Sandy strip accumulated N. of the 

Harbour. 1901. 

5933 (262) Corton, cliffs 100 yards S. of Mid-glacial sand on loam. 1901. 

the Gap. 

5934 (263) Corton, the Gap, south side Mid-glacial sand on loam. 1901. 

5935 (264) Corton, 150 yards N. of the Mid-glacial sands, 1901. 


5936 (268^ Corton, J mile N. of the Gap Glacial sands and loam. Forest Bed at 

beach level. 1901. 

5937 (269) Corton, f mile N. of the Gap Surface of Forest Bed near beach level. 


5938 (270) Corton, 1^ miles N. of the Glacial sands and loam. 1901. 


5939 (272) Coast N. of Corton (looking Forest Bed below Glacial sands. 1901. 

S. from near League Hole). 

5940 (285) Corton, elifis a little S. of the Glacial sands. 1901. 


5941 (286) Corton, cliffs 100 yards N. of „ 

the Gap. 

5942 (287) Corton, cliffs S. of the Gap Mid-glacial sands on loam. 1901. 

5943 (289) Corton, cliffs about 200 yards False-bedded Mid-glacial sands on loam. 

N. of the Gap. 1901. 

5944 (290) Cliffs N. of Corton Gap . Glacial sands on loam with peaty Forest 

Bed at base. 1901. 

5945 (291) „ „ „ » • Mid-glacial sands on loam. 1901. 

5946 (297) Cliffs 150 yards S. of second „ „ „ „ 

Gap S. of Pakefield Lighthouse. 

5947 (298) Cliffs S. of Pakefield . . 

5948 (300) Clifts S. of Pakefield . . Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 

5949 (301) Cliffs I mile S. of Pakefield 


5950 (302) Cliffs half-way between Pake- „ „ „ 

field and Kessingland. 

5951 (304) Cliffs N. of Kessingland . Chalky boulder-clay upon Glacial sands. 


5952 (305) Cliffs N. of Kessingland . Chalky boulder-clay upon Glacial sands. 


5953 (308) Pakefield Cliffs . . Upper 2/3 of Section Mid-glacial .sands . 



6954 (311) Pakefield Cliffs 100 yards S. Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 
of the Lighthouse. 

5955 (312) Pakefield Cliffs, 400 yards S. 

of Lighthouse. 

5956 (314) Pakefield Cliffs . . Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 

5957 (315) Pakefield Cliffs, one of the 


5958 (316) Pakefield CUffs, S. side of a 


5959 (319) Pakefield Cliffs . . . „ „ „ 

5960 (320) Pakefield Cliffs . . . Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 

5961 (321) 

5962 (322) Pakefield Cliffs, S. side of Mid-glacial sands on loam. 1901. 

second Gap. 

5963 (330) Pakefield Cliffs, S. side of Loam at base of Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 

Lighthouse Gap. 

5964 (332) Pakefield Cliffs, i mile S. of Mid-glacial sands on loam. 1901. 

the Lighthouse Gap. 

5965 (333) Pakefield Cliffs, 500 yards S. Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 

of Lighthouse Gap. 

5966 (339) Cliffs 1 J mile N. of Kessing- 


5967 (340) Cliffs S. of Pakefield . . „ 

5968 (343) Cliffs S. of Pakefield . . False-bedded Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 

5969 (344) ,, „ „ . . Chalky boulder-clay resting on sand. 


5970 (347) „ „ „ . . Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 

5971 (348) „ „ „ . . False-bedded Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 

5972 (349) Cliffs 100 yards N. of Pake- 

field Gap. 

5973 (351) Pakefield Cliffs, The Gap, 

N. side. 

5974 (352) Pakefield Cliffs 

5975 (364) Pakefield Cliffs, N. end 

5976 (365^ Pakefield Cliffs, N. end 

5977 (366) „ „ „ 

5978 (367) „ „ „ 

False-bedded Mid-glacial sands. 1901. 
Westleton Beds. 1901. 
Westleton Beds. 1901. 

STAFFORBsniRE.— Photographed by P. C. Button, 65 High Street, 

Stone. 1/2. 

6979 ( ) S. of Oulton Mill, Stone . Glacial Gravels and Clay on Keuper 

Sandstone. 1920. 

Photographed hy the late W. Jerome Harrison. 1/2. 

5980 (20) Midland Railway Cutting, Fossiliferous Wenlock shale. 1900. 

near Aldridge. 

5981 (21) Midland Railway Cutting, Fossiliferous Wenlock shale. 1900. 

near Aldridge. 

Photographed hy R. Parker Smith, Perse School, Cambridge. 1/2. 

5982 ( ) Peadstone Rock, near Keuper Sandstone cemented by barytes. 


Warwickshire.— P^to^ra;)^e(i hy the late W. Jerome Harrison. 1/2. 

6983 (2087) Chapel End, near Nuneaton. Basal Carboniferous and Stockingford 

shales. 1898. 


Westmorland.— P7ioto^ra;p7(ecZ hy J. J. Hartley, Church WaR; 
Ambleside. Postcard size. 

5984 (()) Eascdak- Tarn . . . Ei'ratic of Concretionary Tuff. 1920. 

6985 (7) Mardale, 111 Boll . . . Columnar Andesite. 1920. 

5986 (8) Cawdale Moor . . . Harrath Tuflf. 1920. 

5987 (9) Red screes, Scandale Valley . Banded ash and lava. 1920. 

5988 (12) Garburn Pass . . . Coniston Limestone and shale. 1920. 

YoRKSKiRE.— Photographed hy Professor S. H. Reynolds, M.A., Sc.D., 

The University, Bristol. 1/4. 

5989 (45-1919) Ingleborough from N. . Great Scar Limestone plateau in fore- 

ground. 1919. 

5990 (46-1919) „ „ . Great Scar Limestone plateau in fore- 

ground. 1919. 

5991 (47-1919) North-western flanks of Great Scar Limestone plateau. 1919. 


5992 (48-1919) North-western flanks of Grikes, Great Scar Limestone plateau. 

Ingleborough. 1919. 

5993 (43-1919) Chapel-le-Dale, looking Erosion valley in Carboniferous Lime- 

S.W. stone. 1919. 

5994 (50-1919) S. of Gate Kirk, Chapel- Dry water-course. 1919. 


5995 (61-1919) Rowton Pot, Kingsdale Large pot-hole. 1919. 

5996 (51-1919) Great Dowk.N.W. flanks Outflow of stream. 1919. 

of Ingleborough. 

5997 (60-1919) Hull Pot, Penyghent . One of the largest of the Yorkshire Pots. 


5998 (59-1919) Hunt Pot, Penyghent . Inner Chasm. 1919. 

5999 (56-1919) Gaping Gill, Ingleborough. 1919. 

6000 (66-1919) Norber, near Clapham . Erratics of Coniston Grit on Carboni- 

ferous Limestone. 1919. 

6001 (67-1919) „ „ „ . Erratics of Coniston Grit on Carboni- 

ferous Limestone. 1919. 

6002 (64-1919) S.E. of Horton-in- Cleaved Silurians. 1919. 


6003 (65-1919) Dry Rig, Horton-in- Calcareous concretions in Horton Flags 

Ribblesdale. 1919. 


CARmGAmnmE.— Photographed by R. Parker Smith, Perse School 
Cambridge. Postcard size. 

6004 ( ) Devil's Bridge, Aberystwith. Pothole, River Mynach. 

6005 ( ) „ ,, River Gorge. 

Carnarvonshire.— PAoto^ray^iecZ by E. C. Martin, B.Sc, 20 Derby Road, 
Woodford, London, E. 18. 1/4. 

6006 (506) Coast, I mile S. of Borth-y- ' Hassock bedding ' in Ffestiniog beds, 

gest, Portmadoc. 1912. 

6007 (507) Fechan Point, Portmadoc . Effect of sand blast on Maentwrog beds. 


6008 (509) „ „ 'Caves in the making' (1) in Lingula 

Flags. 1912. 

6009 (510) „ „ 'Caves in the making' (2) in Lingula 

Flags. 1912. 

6010 (514) Hen Fynwent, Tremadoc . Small thrust-plane subsidiary to the 

Penmorfa Fault. 1912. 



6011 (526) Moel-y-gest, Portmadoc 

6012 (530) Criccieth Castle 

6013 (531) 

Escarpments N. of the Peninorfa fault. 

Boulder clay on head on Felsite. 1912. 
. Boulder clay on head on Felsite (detail). 

Pembroke. — Photographed by E. W. Tunbridge, Castel Froma, 
Leamington Spa. 1/4. 

6014 (123) St. Non's Bay, St. Davids Precambrian and Cambrian Section. 


6015 (126) Solva .... Drowned valley and dolerite intrusion. 


6016 (127) Newgale Sands . . Millstone Grit with high seaward dip. 


6017 (129) „ „ . . . Storm-beach. 1911. 

6018 (113) Ogof Golclifa, Whitesand Menevian faulted against Pebidian. 

Bay. 1911. 

6019 (111) Whitesand Bay, St. Davids Blown sand on head on Boulder clay on 

Menevian. 1911. 

Photographed by H. Mortimer Allen, Tenby. 1/1. 

6020 ( ) Bullslaughter Bay, Stack Erosion of Carboniferous Limestone. 


6021 ( ) Huntsman's Leap, Stack Erosion along shale band in vertical 

Rocks. Old Red Sandstone, 


Aberdeenshire. — Photographed by J. Ritchie, Hawthorn Cottage, 
Port Elphinslone, Inverurie, Aberdeenshire. 1/2. 

6022 (1) Bennachie, near Oyne 

6023 (2) 

6024 (3) Bennachie, near Oyne , 

6025 (4) 

6026 (5) Bennachie, near OjTie 

6027 (6) 

6028 (7) Bennachie, near Oyne . 

6029 (8) 

6030 (9) Bennachie, near Oyne . 

6031 (10) ' Mithertap ' Bennachie 

Beginning of trench made by cloudburst 

of August 2, 1891. 1891. 
View near head of trench. 1891. 
Deepest part of trench. 1891. 
Upper part of gap in wood. 1891. 
Erosion due to cloud-burst of August 2, 

1891. Upper part of trench after four 

years' weathering. 1895. 
Lower part of trench after four years ' 

weathering. 1895. 
Deepest part of trench after four years ' 

weathering. 1895. 
Upper part of gap in wood after four 

years' weathering. 1895. 
Gap in wood made by Bennachie cloud- 
burst of August 2, 1891, after four 

years' weathering. 1895. 
Weathering of granite. 

Argyle. — Photographed by the late G. W. Palmer, M.A., 
of Christ's Hospital. 

6032 ( ) Kerrera Is. S. of Oban . Joint cutting through pebbles of Old 

Red Conglomerate. 

Banffshire. — Photographed by J. Ritchie, Hawthorn Cottage, 
Port Elphinstone, Inverwie, Aberdeenshire. 1/2. 

6033 (11) Cullen Bay . . . Raised coast-line. 1900. 

6034 (12) „ „ . . . The 'Red Craig' a raised sea -stack of 

Old Red Sandstone. 1900. 


6035 (13) Cullen Bay . . • Old Red Sandstone of Red Craig (detail). 

Cave in Old Red Sandstone of the Bore 

Raised sea-cave in Old Red Sandstone. 
. Natural Arch in Old Red Sandstone. 
River Gorge in Old Red Sandstone. 1906. 

6036 (14) „ 

6037 (15) Cullen Bay 

6038 (10) „ 

6039 (17) Bridge of Alva 

Buteshire. — Photographed by B. Hobson, 20 Hallamgate Road, 

Sheffield. 1/4. 

6040 (368) \ N. of Drumadoon Point, Dyke of Banded Felsite. 1907. 
(J8) J Arran. 

Edinburgh. — Photographed by B. Hobson, 20 Hallamgate Road, 

Sheffield. 1/4. 

6041 (S6) Salisbury Crags, Arthur's Teschenite dj'ke in Carboniferous Sand- 

Seat, stone. 1912. 

Forfarshire. — Photographed by B. Hobson, 20 Hallamgate Road, 

Sheffield. 1/4. 

6042 (SI) Whiting Ness, Arbroath . Fault in Old Red Sandstone. 1912. 

6043 (S2) 

Inverness. — Photographed by the late G. W. Palmer, M.A., 
of Christ's Hospital. 1/4. 

6044 (1) Canna .... Bedded tuffs and dolerite sill. 

6045 (2) „ „ „ 

6046 (3) Dun Beag, Canna . . . Dolerite sills and volcanic conglomerate. 

6047 (4) „ „ „ . . . Volcanic conglomerate and overlying 

dolerite sill. 

6048 (5) „ „ „ . . . Volcanic conglomerate and overlying 

dolerite sill. 

6049 (6) Eigg The Scuir from opposite the landing 


6050 (7) Part of S. face of Scuir. 

6051 (8) Blaven, Skye, from Loch Gabbro mountains. 


Kincardineshire. — Photographed by B. Hobson, 20 Hallamgate Road^ 

Sheffield. 1/4. 

6052 (R4) Crawton, near Stonehaven. Basalt on Old Red Conglomerate. 

Kirkcudbright. — Photographed by Professor S. H. Reynolds, M.A., Sc.D., 

The University, Bristol. 1/4. 

6053 (32-1919) Talnotry, N.E. of Newton Junction of Cairnsmore-of-Fleet granite 

Stewart. with overlying Silurian grit. 1919 

6054 (33-1919) Talnotry, N.E. of Newton Junction of Cairnsmore-of-Fleet granite 

Stewart. with overlying Silurian grit. 1919. 

6055 (28-1919) Caimsmore-of-Fleetfrom Great granite intrusion. 1919. 

Talnotry Road. 

6056 (31-1919) Cairnsmore-of-Fleet from 

near Creetown. 1919. 


Renfrewshire. — Photographed hy B. Hobson, 20 HaUamgate Road, 

Sheffield. 1/4. 

6057 (389) \ Cutting IJ mile W. of Loch- Basalt dyke in Carboniferous. 
(M5) J winnock. 

Wigtownshire. — Photographed hy Professor S. H. Reynolds, 
M.A., Sc.D., The University, Bristol 1/4. 

6058 (37-1919) Near Inverwell Point . Bedding and cleavage of Silurian grits 

and slates. 1919. 

6059 (38-1919) „ „ „ . Bedding and cleavage of Silurian grits 

and slates. 1919. 

6060 (39-1919) ,, ,, „ . Contorted quartz veins in Silurian grit. 


6061 (40-1919) ,, ,, ,, . Calcareous concretions in Silurian grit. 



Galway. — Photographed by Professor S. H. Reynolds M.A., Sc.D., 
The University, Bristol. 1/4. 

6062 ( ) Top of Curraghrevagh,Lough Vertical Silurians. 1913. 


Leitrim. — Photographed hy B. Hobson, 20 HaUamgate Road, 

Sheffield. 1/4. 

6063 (Q6) Glcncar .... Valley due to landslip. 1912. 

Mayo. — Photographed by B. Hobson, 20 Hallatngate Road, 

Sheffield. 1/4. 

6064 (P6) Cathedral Rocks, Aehill Marine erosion of bedded quartzites. 

Island. 1912. 

6067 (Ql) Mallaranny Gap . . Section of drift mound in railway cutting. 


Channel Islands. 

Jersey. — Photographed hy J. J. Hartley, Church Walk, Ambleside. 

Postcard size. 

6068 (1) Tete des Hougues . . Cambrian basement conglomerate. 1921. 

6069 (2) St. Laurence Valley . . Highly inclined Precambrian shale. 1921. 

6070 (3) St. Laurence Valley . . Contorted Precambrian shale. 1921. 

6071 (4) Archirondel . . . Columnar Rhyolite. 1921. 

Zoological Bibliography and Publication. — Report of Com- 
mittee (Professor E. B. Poulton, Chainnan; Dr. i\ A. Bather, 
Secretary; Mr. E. Heron-Allen, Dr. W. E. Hoyle, and Dr. P. 

Cpialmers Mitchell). 

1. The circulation among editors of scientific journals of recent recom- 
mendations by this Committee (as desired by the Committee of Section D) 
has been favourably received by several of them, and has led to further 

2. Mr. Maurice Cossmann, on his own initiative, reprinted the Committee's 
circular in the Reinie Critique de Pali'ozoologie for December 1920, which 
involved republication in the lievuc de Geologie. A French translation prepared 


by your Secretary arrived too late for this, and was, through JMr. Cossmann's 
.kind intervention, printed in the Compte Rendu de la Societe Geologique de 
France for February 7, 1921. Reprints of this French edition were furnished 
by the Societe Geologique. 

3. In the iWutiiralist for September 1, 1920, the chief recommendations were 
quoted and contributors asked to adhere to them. Several requests for further 
copies of the circular and for previous reports were received and complied 

4. Tlie editor of the Yorkshire Geological Society consulted the Secretary 
of the Committee on the correct way of writing specific names. Since the 
particular instances occurred in a paper on pakeobotany, the reply sent was 
kindly read and approved by Dr. A. B. Reudle. Many otherwise competent 
zoologists seem unaware that an author's name should be enclosed in brackets, 
e.{j. Dalmanites raudatus (Briinnich), only when the species has been transferred 
from the genus in which the author originally placed it, e.g. Trilobus cmidatus 
Briinnich. It would be equally correct to write Dalmanitc-s ccmdatus Briinnich sp. 

5. There is also confusion in some minds as to the use of brackets in connec- 
tion with generic and subgeneric names. The trilobite just mentioned was 
long placed in the genus Phacops; this fact may be indicated thus — Dalmanites 
[P/iacojis] caudatvs. At first Dalmanites was regarded as a subgenus of Phacops, 
and this would have been indicated correctly by : Phaco'ps [Dalmanites) 

6. A similar question was raised, and the opinion of the Committee asked, 
by Mr. J. C. Moulton, who, as editor of the R. Asiatic Society's Journal, 
Straits Branch, has adopted the following method of printing trinomials : — • 

CHLOROPSIS VIRIDIS Horsfield viriditcctus Hartert. Here the essential 
departures from ordinary usage are the difference of type for the subspecific 
component of the name, and the insertion of the name of the author of the 
si>ecies after the specific component. 

The Committee agrees that the alterations introduced by Mr. Moulton tend 
to increased clearness. If it be ever necessary to give the name of the author 
of the species, it is no less necessary when the form referred to is one of the 
subspecies into which the species has been divided, and Mr. Moulton's method 
of introducing it seems unexceptionable. 

The Committee does not wish by this expression of opinion to encourage 
the insertion of authors' names in general writing, except when they are needed 
to avoid ambiguity. Mr. Moulton's devices are best suited for such systematic 
lists as those in which he has employed them. 

7. In postage of the above correspondence the Committee has spent the 
sum of 4.S". 9f/., leaving an unexpended balance of 15?. M. The postage account 
is likely to be heavier in the coming year. The Committee therefore applies for 
its reappointment, with a grant of 1?. to cover such possible expenditure. 

Abrolhos Islands. — Report of Committee (Professor W. A. 
Hebdman, Chairman; Professor W. J. Dakin, Secretary; 
Professors J. H. Ashwobth and F. 0. Bower) appointed to 
conduct an investigation of the biology of the Abrolhos Islands 
and the north-west coast of Australia (north of Shark's Bay to 
Broome), with particular reference to the marine fauna. 

Tlie investigation of the Abrolhos Islands in the Indian Ocean (marine fauna 
and flora and formation of islands) was undertaken with the help of grants 
from the Percy Sladen Fund, the Government Grant Committee of the Royal 
Society, and the British Association. 

Two expeditions were arranged and extensive collections were made in 1913 
and 1915. The grants were exhausted with the exception of a small amount 
out of that made by the Government Grant Committee of the Royal Society. 
During the years 1915 to date the collections have been distributed to various 
specialists, some of whom have already reported upon the same. 

Professor Dakin has written a narrative of the expeditions and a report upon 


the structure of these coral islands. The report was published in the 
I'roccedings of the Liiuuun Sucicty for 1017. He has also written a report on 
a new Enteropneust from the islands, published in Proc. Linn. Soc, 1916. 

The vertebrate fauna has been reported upon by Mr. W. B. Alexander, M.A. 
{Proc. Linn. Soc, 1921). A report upon certain Crustacea by Dr. Tattersall is 
in process of publication, and Professor Dendy has the report upon the sponges 
well in hand. A report on the seaweeds has been received from ]\Ir. Lucas, 
M.Sc, of Sydney. Professor Hickson has written a short account of the few 
sea pens captured. The Echinoderms, with the exception of the Holothuria, are 
now in America, and a report from H. L. Clarke is exported shortly. 

The Polychret worms have been investigated by Professor Fauvel, and this 
paper is now in the press (Proc. Linn. Soc, 1921). Other collections are in the 
hands of Miss Thorpe, B.Sc, at Liverpool (Alcyonaria), S. Kemp, M.Sc, at 
Calcutta (certain Crustacea), Dr. J. Pearson at Colombo (Holothurians), and 
S. K. Montgomery, B.A., B.Sc. (Brachyura). 

The remaining specimens are being distributed. The small amount of grant 
remaining has been allotted by the Committee of the Royal Society for aid in 
the publication of the papers. 

The Committee does not apply for reappointment. 

Experiments in Inheritance of Colour in Lepidoptera. — 

Report of the Committee (Prof. W. Batp:son, Chairman; Hon. 
H. Onslow, Secretary; Dr. P. A. Dixey, Prof. E. B. Poulton). 

Diaphora [Sfilosoma] mcndica and var. rustica. — The experiments with this 
variety were concluded, a sufficient number of the F2 generation having been 
obtained. The results confirm what has been previously reported ; the incom- 
pletely dominant white variety segregating from the buff-coloured heterozygous 
as well as from the black type insects. A full report will appear in the Journal 
of Genetics. 

Boarmia coiisortaria and var. coii<ohrinaria. — A few more families were 
obtained, which point to the view that the melanic variety is hypostatic to the 
intermediate variety, and the latter hypostatic to the type; but the experiments 
are being continued. 

Hcmerophila abruptaria and var. fuscata. — The melanic variety behaves 
as a simple Mendelian dominant. The excess of melanics observed by Hamling 
and Harris must have been due to abnormal circumstances. In captivity a 
second brood may be obtained, and it was observed that a number of such 
insects, among which the mortality was very high, showed a considerable excess 
of melanic over type insects. Probaljly this excess of melanics was due to a 
mortality which favoured the black form. This supports the view that one 
of the main causes of the spread of melanic forms is due to their constitutional 
hardiness. A full account will appear in the .Journal of Gcnr:tic.?. 

Zygccna fHipendulo; , and the yellow variety. — The families reared in 1920 
indicate that the normal red colour is dominant to the yellow. The experi- 
ments are being continued, but the imagines of 1921 have not yet emerged. 

Adraxas (fro-tsu/ariata and var. vnrtcijata. — The black variety behaves as a 
Mendelian recessive. These experiments were completed, and a full report 
will appear in the Journal of Genetic-^. In addition, it was found that the 
black pattern of the type form is restricted to about one-third of the total 
area in the fore wings. The factor which causes the limitation of this 
black pattern is dominant to that causing completely black fore wings (var. 
hazeleighensis). This factor is connected with femaleness in such a way that 
the males always appear to have most pigment. 

Abraxas grossvlariata and var. actinota. — This is a radiated variety of 
the melanic form varleyata. It is sex-linked with maleness, and a female has 
not yet been bred. This is therefore the first case (except in Drosopfiila) in 
which a character has been found sex-linked both to maleness and femaleness — 
i.e. lacticolor and this radiated variety actinota. The method of inheritance is 
complicated and not yet understood, but it appears to be involved with a lethal 


factor, which suggests an analogy with the case of 'notch' wing in Drosoi)liila. 
The experiments will be continued. 

Abraxas grossitlariata vars. lacticolor and varlci/ata. — These experiments have 
been considerably extended, and it is hoped to airry them farther. The dis- 
tribution of the sexes appears to agree with the suggestion made last year. 
As was expected, moreover, anomalous sex-ratios have been observed in the 
crosses fjrossidariataX vatic yata, giossulariataxlacticolor, and giossulariafaX 
exqiiisita, when the female parent is grossitlariata and heterozygous for both 
varleijata and lacticolor. A full report will appear in the Journal of Genetics. 

Zoology Organisation. — Report of CummiUec, appointed to 
summon meeiings in London or ehewJiere for consideration of 
matters affecting the interests of ZoologTj, etc. (Pi^ofessor S. J. 
HicKSON, Chairman; Dr. W. M. Tattersall, Secretary; Pro- 
fessors G. C. Bourne, A. Dendy, J. Stanley Gardiner, 
W. Garstang, Marcus Hartog, W. A. Herdman, J. Graham 
Kerr, Mr. E. D. Laurie, Professors E. W. MacBride and A. 
Meek, Dr. P. Chalmers Mitchell, and Professor E. B. 



Prepared by the Zoology Organisation Committee at the request 
OF the Committee op Section D. 

' Make the boy interested in Natural History if you can ; it is better 
than games; they encourage it in some schools.' — (Last words of 
Captain E. P. Scott, Antarctic explorer.) 

It does not need any profound investigation of the various JNIatriculation and 
School-leaving Examinations to be convinced that the great majority of our 
boys and girls when they leave school at the age of seventeen or eighteen years 
are almost entirely devoid of any sound knowledge of the structure and 
physiology of the animal body or the elementary principles of the science of 
animal life. 

It is true that in ordinary conversation they will use such words as brain, 
heart, liver, or kidneys as if they were familiar with their meaning. They will 
talk about the birds, the fishes, the reptiles, or even the worms and corals, as 
things they know something about in a general way, and in the course of time 
they will gather some information from various sources concerning all these 
things, which enables them to pass muster as educated men and women. 

But what the schoolmasters, as a rule, do not realise, and educational 
authorities invariably do not realise, is that boys and girls have not been given 
the educational opportunity they need to enable them to gain an intelligent 
interest in their own bodies and in the animate world with which they come 
into daily contact. 

The tragic events of the last six years have brought home to the minds of 
most educated persons the national importance of scientific training and research, 
and an effort has been made to remove, to some extent, our national neglect of 
Science. There has been a larger endowment for scientific research, new 
laboratories have been built and old laboratories enlarged for the study of 
Chemistry, Engineering, Agriculture, and other Sciences in our Universities, 
and in many of the schools a little more encouragement is given now to the boys 
and girls who 'take the modern side' than before the War. But as regards 
the teaching of Natural History and the animal side of Biology there has been 


no improvement in the schools, and there are strong reasons for believing that 
the situation is steadily becoming w^orse. 

It is true, as Captain 'Scott said, that ' they encourage it (i.e. Natural 
History) in some schools,' but in a great many of these the encouragement that 
is given to boys or girls with a taste for the subject and a determination to 
pursue it amounts to little more than toleration. They are allowed to make 
collections of butterflies and shells, or even to keep a few live pets under 
conditions that are usually unfavourable for a healthy existence, and in some 
cases there are prizes or awards for collections or observations made in the 
holidays. But the most lamentable thing about it is that there are so few 
masters or mistresses, and these only in some of the larger schools, whose 
education and training enable them to give any sound guidance or assistance to 
boys or girls in their study of Animal Life. 

It does not need many years of experience as a teacher in a University to 
discover that the graduates who have taken a degree with Honours in Zoology 
are not in demand for masterships in secondary schools, and it is only on rare 
occasions that they succeed in getting good posts. 

There is a demand for botanists, and apparently the demand is increasing; 
but there can be no doubt that, at the present time, botanists who can give 
instruction in two other subjects such as Chemistry and Mathematics, or 
Chemistry and Physics, have a better chance of making a successful application 
for teaching posts in secondary schools than the botanists who have also had a 
good training in Zoology. 

The effect of this neglect of the teaching of Animal Biology in the schools 
is reflected in the Universities, in which we find large classes of students 
attending the higher courses of introduction in Biology and very small classes 
attending the corresponding courses in Zoology. Students coming up to the 
Universities from our secondary schools naturally suppose that it will be to 
their advantage to continue the study of subjects in which they have already 
received some preliminary introduction, and the longer they have remained 
at school after reaching the iNIatriculation stage the less is their inclination to 
start a new subject. Moreover, students in deciding upon a career at the 
Universities must be influenced, in most cases, by the opportunities the career 
offers for earning a living when they have graduated. 

It is not surprising, therefore, that our boys and girls, having received no 
systematic instruction whatever on the animal side of living organisms at school, 
and finding that the study of Zoology offers very few opportunities, under our 
present system, for obtaining positions as teachers, either in schools or in 
Universities, very seldom choose Zoology as a subject of University study. 
There is, indeed, in this respect a vicious circle in our educational system : on 
the one hand, the masters and mistresses in our schools, the members of the 
governing bodies, and indeed His Majesty's school inspectors, with very rare 
exceptions, almost entirely ignorant of the first principles of Biological Science, 
and therefore inclined to discourage the subject in the schools; and, on the 
other hand, the Universities unable, for many reasons, to attract sufiicient 
numbers of students to the courses in Zoology and Animal Physiology even to 
the standard of an ordinary degree. 

One can. understand that the masters and mistresses of schools, troubled with 
the multiplicity of sul)jects and the expense of scientific laboratories, should be 
inclined to welcome the discouragement of another science subject, but it is 
astounding that any body of educational experts, asked to consider the educa- 
tional needs of the country, could issue such a report in respect to Zoology as 
that published by tlie Secondary Schools Examination Commission under the 
authority of the Board of Education, i The report in question has reference to 
the first examinations only, that is to say, to examinations corresponding to 
the standard of the Senior Local Examinations of the Cambridge University 
Syndicate or the Matriculation Examinations of the Northern Universities Joint 
Matriculation Board, examinations which are usually taken by boys and girls of 
sixteen to seventeen years of age. 


1 Secondary Schools Examinations Council. — Report of the Investigations of 
the First Examinations. Subjects Reports, Group III., p. 10. H.M. Stationery- 
Office. 1919. Price id. 


The reports of the Investigators of the Higher Certificate Examinations have 
not yet been published. 

The passage in the report to which grave exception must be taken is as 
follows : — 

'Very few of the candidates offer this subject (Natural History), and it 
seems very doubtful whether it is worth while to maintain it as qualifying 
for a Pass with Credit in Science. The principles of Biological Science can 
be better illustrated by means of Botany, especially as Physiology occupies a 
far more important place in this subject than in Zoology, which does not 
readily lend itself to experimental treatment.' 

The Science of Biology, as the word is now used, is the Science that deals 
with living things, animal and vegetable, and it is diificult to understand how 
the principles of the subject can be taught, even in the most elementary stages, 
in a course of study from which the problems and features of animal life are 
entirely excluded. The study of Botany can afford illustrations of the life of 
plants, but it cannot give correct or reasonable instruction in the principles of 
Biology. If a student has attended such a course of Botany, is it possible 
that he could understand anything that could reasonably be called the first 
pnnciples of Biology, when he is entirely ignorant of the structure and functions 
of the heart, the nervous system, the sense organs, the locomotor organs, and 
the reproductive organs of animals ? :\Iany of us who have had long experience 
of the teaching of Biology are convinced that the conceptions of the principles 
of Biology that such a student gains are both incorrect and misleading. From 
the standpoint of first principles, the whole life of a green plant, from its 
dependence on so highly specialised a substance as chlorophyll, is rather an 
anomaly than a self-sufficient illustration. There may be some truth in the 
statement that Zoology does not lend itself so readily to experimental treatment 
as Botany; but even in this respect a properly trained teacher can devise 
valuable experiments upon animals which do not involve injury to or death 
of the subjects of the experiments. It is perfectly simple, for example, to 
demonstrate colour changes in the skin of living frogs, by comparing two 
specimens, one of which has been kept in a dark cupboard and the other in 
the sunlight for half an hour, to show the reactions of different kinds of 
protozoa to light and heat, to demonstrate the beating of the heart of a daphnia, 
or the circulation of the blood in a tadpole or a worm under the microscope! 
without injuring it or sacrificing its life. 

It is equally feasible to apply exact, if qualitative, experimentation to 
the study of the many respiratory and environmental adaptations of aquatic 
animals such as crabs, molluscs, and many insects and their larva. There 
are, in fact, many ways in which Zoology even at this stage can be treated 
as an experimental science with the simplest apparatus- 

But it is not in this aspect of the subject that its chief educational training 
lies Its place in the curriculum is advocated because it is pre-eminently 
the subject that can be used with effect for education in careful observation 
and comparison and inference. 

At the very beginning of school life it has the advantage that nearly all 
boys and girls possess a natural interest in the living, moving things "they 
see around them, and consequently it is an easy matter to catch and to 
keep their attention for a whole school period. From this beginning it is not 
difficult to proceed to successful exercises in independent observation, and 
from these to simple deductions as to the why and wherefore of organic 
structures. ° 

And to the older student, what science can present problems of such 
enthralling interest? Which can give so furiously to think as Zoology, with 
Its various theories of evolution and heredity, bearing as these do alike on 
the past and the future of man, with the universal drama of sex, the almost 
incredible intricacy of the 'web of life,' and, above all, the picture of the 
livmg organism, most delicate and fragile of living objects, standing for ever 
poised upon the brink of destruction, yet, thanks to the life that is in it, 
master of Its fate? Surely this is a subject to be taught if intellectual stimulus 
be needed. 

In the hands nf competent teachers the subiect is one which can be used 
with great advantage, not only as a training for the faculties, but also as a 


means for imparting that knowledge of the simpler anatomical structures and 
elementary physiological principles of the animal liody which should be a 
part of the equipment of every man and woman. 

Many strange objections have been brought forward in the past against 
the introduction of the teaching of Natural History of animals in schools. 
Perhaps the most serious of these is tlie statement that there is not time in 
the school curriculum for the introduction of another subject, that the time- 
table is already overloaded with subjects, and that it is most undesirable 
that the numl.'er of school hours should be increased. This is an objection 
that it is difficult to answer without a full discussion of the j)resent school 
curriculum, but from our knowledge of what can be done in the way of giving 
some sound teaching of Zoology in a few schools at the present time it does 
not appear to be an objection that is insuperable. 

It is a curious fact that in England alone, among civilised countries, a 
boy and girl can reach the age of eighteen or nineteen years and leave school 
without having received any school instruction in animal physiology or the 
natural history of animals. In Japan, to take only one example out of many, 
the courses in the middle school (fourteen to nineteen years of age) include 
Botany, Physiology, and a two years' course in Zoology, and the official text- 
book for these schools shows that the standard aimed at, if not acquired, is 
a very high one — far higher, indeed, than that of any school in this country. 
x\nd this instruction is given not only to the few scholars that are passing on 
to a specialised course in Science in the Universities, but to all scholars 
without exception. 

It would be too much to expect, perhaps, that our standard of education 
in this respect should reach that attained in Japan immediately, but we are 
convinced that a few periods a week could be spared for the subject at all 
stages in the curriculum without impairing the educational value of the other 

A second objection that is frequently raised is that the expense of providing 
the necessary equipment for the efficient teaching of the subject is beyond 
the means of the average secondary school. We think that this objection has 
been greatly exaggerated. Provided that there is a well-lighted laboratory, 
which can also be used for Chemistry and Physics, a few microscopes, which 
can also be used for Botany, the expenses for purely zoological teaching are 
not great. There should be a fresh- water aquarium, and in schools by the 
sea a sea-water aquarium as well, a few simple dissecting instruments and 
lenses, and a few prepared skeletons and other preparations which can be 
increased as time passes. The difficulties of obtaining specimens are not 
great if the teachers keep in touch with the larger departments in our 
Universities, and many specimens can be obtained in sufficient quantities 
from the fields and ponds in the neighbourhood of the schools if occasional 
field excursions are organised. 

It is even suggested as an objection that the subject cannot lie studied 
without inflicting pain upon animals. To this we reply most emphatically 
that in the school classes no vivisection and no cruelty to animals is necessary 
or desirable. In fact, the knowledge the boys and girls gain of the structure 
and organisation of animals counteracts the desire that many may possess to 
crush and kill the creeping things they do not understand. Knowledge does 
not stimulate hatred and cruelty, but does create love and sympathy. If the 
boy knew something about the wonderful structure of the fly or wasp that 
he squashes on the window-pane, he would hesitate to strike. 

We plead boldly for the teaching of Zoology as an antidote to cruelty to 
animals, as a basis for a more general and sympathetic appreciation of Nature, 
and as an indispensable approach towards a sound understanding of human life 

Of other objections that have occasionally been raised, passing reference must 
be made to that which suggests that it is objectionable to refer to questions of 
sex in animals. To most of us, who are interested in the subject, the fact that 
Zoology does provide authoritative instruction on the physiology of sex in 
animals is one of the strongest arguments in favour of the introduction of the 
subject in schools. We lay stress on the fact that it is a matter of universal 
experience that when the phenomena of sex are taught in a series from the 


unicellular animals through the simpler itivertebrata to the higher animals all 
sense of indelicacy or impropriety disappears, while the knowledge acquired is 
clear and precise. In this respect JJotany cannot take its place. The 
phenomenon of sex-reproduction should be regarded as one of the most necessary, 
and in some respects the most important, features in the general education of our 
hoys aTid girls, and we attach great importance to the study of Animal Biology 
as the only means by which it can be adc(juatcly taught. 

As the question has frequently been asked what should be the scope of the 
teaching of Natural History in schools up to the standard of the first school 
leaving examination, we have ventured to draw up the following schedule of 
subjects based on a practical knowledge of what has been done and can be done. 

1. The principal characters of some of the more important divisions of the 
animal kingdom which can be observed by a study, without dissection, of a 
number of selected types such as — 

The sea anemone and a simple coral. 

A snail or a whelk. 

A whiting or a fresh-water fish. 

A lizard. 

A bird or a rabbit. 

The study of the movements and haliits of living animals should lie en- 
couraged as far as possible by observations on such animals as can be kept in an 
aquarium, such as Daphnia. Cyclops. Planavian worms, water snails, insect 
larvw, small fishes, and in the case of seaside schools, sea-anemones, marine 
worms, crabs or prawns, limpets, periwinkles, and various zoophytes. 

A simple terranum can also be devised for the study of living insects, spiders, 
earthworms, snails, frogs, and reptiles. 

3. A more detailed study of the general anatomy and of the function.s of the 
principal organs of such types as — 

Amceba or Paramecium. 


The earthworm. 



Dogfish and rabbit. 

This study will require the use of the microscope and of dissections which 
could be made Ijy the masters or the older boys under the direction of the 
master. The functions of the organs can be explained by the master in the 
course of the exercises, and by demonstrations which do not involve experiments 
on living structures. 

3. The study of the development of the frog by direct observation of the 
spawn and tadpole stages in the spring, and in schools provided with an 
incubator, the first three days of the development of the chick can be studied 
with advantage. 

The study of the metamorphoses of the butterfly, moth, harlequin fly, or gnat 
can also be studied practically at this stage. 

In regard to junior pupils the Committee would endorse the suggestions 
elaborated in the Scottish Education Department's ' Memorandum on Nature 
Study,' which indicate the advantages of following the seasons and trying to 
understand their prominent features. This method is particularly applicable to 
country schools, Ijut it has among its advantages that of bringing different 
sciences — Chemistry, Physics. Botany, Zoology — to bear on what is going on in 
the natural world outside. It is very important to suggest early that the various 
sciences work into each other's hands. 


The Eflfects of the War on Credit, Currency, Finance, 
and Foreign Exchanges.— Report of Committee, consisting of 
Prof. W. E. Scott (Chairman), Mr. J. E. Allen (Secretary), 
Prof. C. F. Bastable, Sir E. Brabrook, Dr. J. H. Clapham, 
Dr. Hugh Dalton, Mr. B. Ellinger, Sir D. Drummond Eraser, 
Mr. A. H. Gibson, Mr. C. W. Guillebaud, Mr. F. W. Hirst, 
Prof. A. W. KiRKALDY, Mr. F. Lavington, Mr. D. H. Eobertson, 
Mr.-E. Sykes, and Sir J. 0. Stamp. 

Even at the di.stance of thirty-two months after the Armistice it is not possible 
to write with certainty on economic conditions during the War and the 
reconstruction period. Nevertheless, we have reached a certain amount of 
agreement on some of the principal points which have arisen during our inquiry. 

Our Committee endorses the memorandum submitted by the five economists ' 
to the Economic Conference at Brussels. Also the recommendations of the 
Commission on Currency and Exchange, ^ which were approved imanimously 
by the Economic Conference. These recommendations cover a considerable 
part of our questionnaire, 6.17. Credit, Inflation, and the Gold Standard. 

Our first question, Hotu far is the rise in prices in the U.K. since 
July 1914 dve (a) to expansion of the currency and (6) to expansion of credit? 
like the second, is evidently controversial. Economic opinion is still divided 
as to the relative share of credit expansion and currency expansion in causing 
the rise in prices since July 1914. 

The majority of our members and correspondents believe that the expansion 
of credit was the main cause. As Sir J. C. Stamp writes : ' A relatively small 
part is due to the currency, but the greater part is due to the expansion of 
other credit instruments.' Sir Edward Brabrook writes : 'I take it that both 
causes contributed to the rise in prices, but I cannot say in what proportions.' 
Sir Drummond Eraser ' Has no doubt whatever that the rise in prices was 
mainly due [a] to the expansion of the currency and (6) to the expansion of 
credit.' Mr. Hirst thinks that 'the expansion of currency and the expansion 
of credit interact, i.e. one is sometimes the cause, sometimes the effect of 
the other.' 

Mr. Lavington and Mr. Robertson (avoiding the difficuity of defining 
' currency ' or ' money ') say that the difference between pre-war and post-war 
prices ' was duo. in tlie main, to expansion of the insfnimcnts of foymcnt,' 
they add, in agreement with Sir J. C. St^amp, that it also was due (perhaps 
to the extent of 10 per cent.) to a falling-off in production. Mr. Ellinger 
qualifies this by limiting it 'to the time of the Armistice or a little later.' 

Dr. Cannan holds that the rise in prices was ' due to Government expenditure 
of money on a scale which could not have been reached without a diminution 
in the purchasing power of money. This diminution would have come about, 
to a large extent, even if no U.K. paper money had been issued, owing to 
the demonetisation of gold abroad, which reduced the value of gold. The 
U.K. paper money enables it to be carried further.' 

Mr. Sykes draws a distinction between the expansion of the currency 
abroad, where it bas been 'the principal cause of the increase of prices,' because 
it was issued by Governments in direct payment of their debts, and the increase 
of currency in the U.K., which has been 'almost entirely a consequence of the 
expansion of credit.' Without such additional currency the banks could not 
have met the increased potential demand for cash which the increase in the 
volume of credit placed in the hands of the banks' customers. Mr. Sykes 
believes that if the additional currency had not been created by the Govern- 
ment ' a voluntary emergency currency would almost certainly have been 
brought into existence by mutual consent of all parties.' 

1 Dr. Bruins and Professors Cassel, Gide, Pantaleoni, and Pigou. 
- Mr. Robertson comments : ' These seem to me very difficult to apply in 
present circumstances.' 


111 our first Report, which was drafted during tlic summer of 1915, and 
preseiiled to the Association at its Manchester meeting in September, we quoted 
a sentence from the memorandum of our late colleague, Sir R. H. Inglis 
Palgrave, as expressing the views which are taken by must economists. Sir 
Robert wrote : ' The effect of an increase in the paper currency on prices, if 
sufficiently large, is invariably to raise prices, in the same way as any other 
increase of the circulating medium when this is not called for by an increase 
in the business dune.' In our interim report last year, wliich was not printed, 
we said : 'As the War went on there was a fairly constant increase of the note 
issue, while the gold reserve, after an early period, remained stationary at 
28,500,000/. If the money which the Government obtained by its war loans 
had been subscribed entirely out of real savings the loan policy would have 
had no effect on prices; but from an early period the banks were encouraged 
to take up war loans and to make advances to their customers for the same 
purpose, thereby causing an inflation of credit. This inflation of credit was 
made possible by the increase of the currency, and was itself a cause tending 
to currency expansion.' 

Mr. Gibson holds that 60-70 per cent, of the rise in prices up to December 31, 
1910, was due to monetary influences (increase in legal tender, bank deposits, 
&c.). Some allowance, too, must be made for increased velocity of circulation. 
He reckons that up to December 31, ipiO, 80 per cent, of the rise due to 
monetary influences was caused by expansion of bank credit and 20 per cent, 
to the fiduciary part of the currency note issue (the-se being the relative pro- 
portions between the increases of bank credit and the fiduciary part of the 
currency note issue). 

QuKSTiON 2. — Id the expansion of credit thv cause or the. effect of the exjJan- 
sion of the currency ? 

The answer to our second question may almost be inferred from the answer 
to the first. As Mr. Robertson and Mr. Lavington put it, the expansion of 
credit was, in the main, the cause or the antecedent of the expansion of the 
currency. But, as they say, ' a readiness to expand the currency was a necessary 
condition of the expansion of credit, if the banking system was not to be 
allowed to go to smash.' Sir Edward Brabrook thinks that 'it is both a cause 
and an effect.' 

Mr. Ellinger thinks that the expansion of currency came first; 'had it not 
come the expansion of credit could hardly have followed ' ; moreover, tlie 
subsequent expansion of credit would not have taken place ' unless manufac- 
turers of credit had known that further expansion of currency would automati- 
cally follow.' 

Mr. Hirst and Mr. Petliick Lawrence hold that the two things are inter- 
connected. Commander Hilton Young holds that the expansion of currency is 
a consequence of tlie expansion of credit; Mr. D. M. Mason and Mr. Alfred 
Hoare say it is the cause. 

Prof. Cannan declares that ' There has been no expansion of credit when 
you measure credit in an undepreciated standard.' 

Dr. Hugh Dalton argues that the increase of credit could not have taken 
place without the increase of currency 'in this, tlie most fundamental, sense, 
increase of credit is an effect and not a cause of increase of currency, for if,' 
he says, 'the British Government, determining to deflate the currency, were 
to withdraw a number of currency notes from circulation and destroy them, 
it is evident that bank loans would have to be reduced in roughly the same 

Dr. Dalton goes on to say : ' This reduction would be brought about by a 
rise in the bank rate and market rate.' 

Mr. Sykes objects to this statement and contends that ' banks might refuse 
to lend without increasing rates.' Dr. Dalton had gone on to argue that ' if the 
Government is unwilling to see the volume of credit restricted by high rates of 
interest, it is possible to maintain this volume above what it would otherwise 
be, and the banks' rate of interest below what it would otlier\vise be, by an 
increase in the volume of the currency. This is the policy which the British 
and other Governments have, in fact, pursued during recent years. In this sense 
the increase of currency has licen the effect, not of an increase of ciedil, but of 


the Government's policy in relation to credit and interest rates. There are 
other forms of credit besides bank loans, e.g. the book debts of private traders. 
The volume of tliese depends primarily upon the state of business confidence, 
but drastic deflation of currency, by causing a fall in prices, would cause a 
restriction of this kind of credit also.' 

Sir Drummond Eraser writes : ' Some portion of the expansion of the currency 
was undoubtedly due to the expansion of credit. But I doubt whether the two 
are entirely interdependent. Take two extreme cases : When the Austrian 
Government was short of money the currency was expanded. When the British 
Government was short of money credit was expanded. In Austria the increase 
in the note issue was not accompanied by a iiro rata increase in the bank 
deposits. In C4reat Britain the increase in bank deposits was not accompanied 
by a 2-"'0 rata increase in the note issues. The expansion of currency in a 
country like Austria is readily accomplished, because the note issues remain 
in circulation. The expansion of credit in Great Britain was readily accom- 
plished because of the effectiveness of deposit banking.' 

Mr. Gibson also holds that the expansion of credit was the main cause of 
the expansion of the currency. But the first could not have taken place 
without breaking up a part of it into legal tender units for wages and retail 
transactions. ' Currency notes have not been forced into circulation ; they 
have always been returnable to the banks at their full face value to the credit of 
customers.' Of course, some issue of paper money was required to balance the 
gold coins withdrawn from circulation. 

iMr. G. Bernard Shaw answers Questions (1) and (2) together : ' The two 
are really the same. Expansion of credit is effected by issuing rcore currency 
than you have goods to back it with ; in short, by inflation. Credit is one of 
the economic phantoms.' 

Question 3. — Was it 'possible, in this and other countries, to irrevent the 
expansion of credit and currency f 

This question raises the further question, ' Should a war be paid for by 
loans or by taxation?' and the answer depends partly upon the view which 
is taken of the patriotism of non-combatant citizens, partly on their power 
and will to pay. Opinions dift'er as to the extent to which higher taxation 
could have been imposed, but we agree that considerably higher taxation might 
safely have been imposed at an earlier period of the War. Such taxation would 
have tended to check personal extravagance, to lessen the inevitable rise in 
prices, and to decrease the future burden of the War Debt. It might have 
helped also to abate the demand for war bonuses, which were themselves both 
an effect and a cause of higher commodity prices. Sometliing more might also 
have been done, in l'J14 and 1915, to attract savings or special profits into the 
Exchequer by means of continuous borrowing rather than by, or in addition to, 
spectacular periodic loans. 

Dr. Dalton answers the original question — ' Yes ; by heavier taxation (or 
alternatively, to some extent, by ottering higher rates of interest on voluntary 
loans). This policy, if it had been adopted in this country, would have pre- 
vented the greater part, if not the whole, of the rise in prices and money wages, 
and of the depreciation of the American and other exchanges. Especially in 
the early part of the W^ar, it was a gross error of policy not to impose heavier 
taxation.' Mr. Hirst, Commander Hilton Young, Mr. Mason, and Mr. Bernard 
Shaw also answer Yes. Sir J. C. Stamp answers : ' Theoretically Yes, but 
psychologically No, the stimulus given to profit-making by the expansion is 
too important an ingredient for waging the War to have been left out.' Dr. 
Dalton comments : ' This doesn't say much for the patriotism of the business 
community.' Mr. Allen observes : 'A Napoleon may be compelled to mislead 
his countrymen, a self-governing community ought to face a war with a full 
knowledge of its costs and dangers. To take a classical analogy, the choice was 
between the policy of Pericles and that of Cleon ; and Cleon's won.' 

Sir Edward Brabrook says: ' It was not possible to prevent it.' Mr. Sykes 
takes the same view, for he doubts ' whether any Government which attempted 
to prevent the expansion of currency and credit would have withstood the 
strain, even if it were abstractly possible.' He mentions a further difficulty — 
• How could Great Britain have financed international purchases for war pur- 


poses without an expansion of credit?' Perhaps we may draw a line, as 
suggested by Dr. Scott (in ' Economic Problems of Peace alter War,' Second 
Series, page 5G), between borrowing for purchases at home and for jjurcliases 
from foreign countries, tlie second Ijeiiig a legitimate and unavoidable 

Mr. Robertson comments on this paragraph, ' I don't feel sure tliat this is 
relevant to infiution, only to the different question of loans and ta.xes.' jNlr. 
l.,avingtoi), too, cainiot see the validity of the distinction. 

Sir Drumniond Eraser writes : ' The expansion of credit and currency can 
be prevented in this and other countries, if the money required by the Govern- 
ments is raised from taxation and loans direct from the people. Great Britain 
lias proved this. During the four hundred days on which National War Bonds 
were on tap — from October 1917 — the whole of the home money borrowed was 
raised from the day-to-day proceeds from the Bonds and Savings Certilicates. 
This wholesale transfer of purchasing power from the people to the Govern- 
ment, without monetary inflation, not only arrested but actually reduced tlie 
hitherto continuous rise in prices. In my opinion it was an error of judgment 
not to have increased taxation in the early part of the War and not to have 
borrowed direct from the people at a higher rate of interest than that paid for 
the money borrowed on the money market. The practical result was sliown in 
the swollen bank deposits and swollen currency notes, which ought to have been 
tapped by a Goverinnent security of the nature of National War Bonds.' 

Mr. Robertson says ' not in most countries, to any very material extent, 
granted that the War was to be carried on. In war the preservation of morale 
frequently involves a certain measure of illusion.' It was certainly the practice 
of the European Governments to assure their citizens that the cost of the W^ar 
would be paid by the defeated enemy. Mr. Ellinger thinks that, in order to 
prevent expansion of currency, it would have been ' necessary (a) to increase 
taxation, and (h) to conscript Labour and Capital, including the Labour of 
supervision and organisation.' He thinks that the first might have been done 
in this country to a limited extent, also in France and Germany, but he doubts 
whether the conscription of Capital and Labour could have laeen carried out 
in any country. 

Mr. Allen writes : ' There can be no doubt, I think, that all Governments 
ought to have increased their taxation at an early period of the War, just 
as the American Government did, when at last it took up arms. We must 
recognise that ]\Ir. ]\IcKenna's two Budgets (September 22, 1915, and April 4, 
1916) mark an immense advance on everything that was done by European 
Finance Ministers. Subsequent Budgets have made no appreciable improve- 
ments in Mr. McKenna's scheme of taxation.' 

Professor Cannan holds that the expansion of credit could have been pre- 
vented 'by not issuing it.' He adds, 'Of course this might have stopped the 
War; but that isn't economics, but politics.' 

Compulsory service raises the question of the conscription of wealth. 
Clearly, it ought not to have been possible for people who were, for any reason, 
whether age, sex, occupation or physical disability, free from the risks and 
discomforts of military service, to make foi'tunes or even to improve their 
economic condition out of tlie misfortunes of their country. I'he Excess Profits 
Duty was a necessary result of the postponement of taxation of 1914-15, when 
the Government created so much new purchasing power. It ought to have 
reduced the purchasing power of the public by higher taxation. 

As we said in our interim report for 1920, no one has explained whv the 
ordinary Budget at the beginning of the financial year 1915-16 did not add to 
taxation. ' It should have been clear that non-combatants could not make their 
usual demands on the national output of goods and services, if the requirements 
of the fighting forces were to be supplied. Consequently it was desirable 
that the simplest of all checks on consumption, ?'.e. taxation, should have been 
applied. Unfortunately the Government seemed to have other views, and 
"business as usual " was the popular cry.' 

Mr. Lavington, taking the view expressed some time ago by Sir Drummond 
Fraser and J\Ir. Gilison, with which Dr. Dalton agrees, thinks" that tlie expan- 
sion of currency could have been appreciably reduced had we adopted earlier 


the more effective methods of borrowing, e.g. continuous borrowing stimulated 
by advertisement, which were put into force later. 

Mr. Gibson replies : ' Theoretically Yes, practically No.' In the 
absence of a General Service Act the Government had to allay discontent and 
to encourage increased production by increasing purchasing power. ' Work- 
people wanted higher wages.' Dr. JJalton comments: 'They wanted higher 
money wages, when prices rose. I doubt if, had there been no inflation, they 
would have pressed for higher real wages.' 

Mr. Gibson also controverts Dr. Dalton's replies. Admitting that heavier 
taxation would have curtailed consumption, he does not think that an extra 
25 per cent, could ' have been equitably distributed over all classes without 
causing further demands for increases of wages and the breaking up of a large 
number of the homes of the fixed-income class.' 

Dr. Dalton answers : 'I entirely disagree. If prices rise 100 per cent., that 
is equivalent to an additional income-tax of 10s. in the pound on the "fixed 
income class." Inflation hit them hardest of all.' 

Mr. Gibson continues : ' Under scarcity conditions, during the War, pro- 
ducers, manufacturers, and traders were in a position to pass on increased 
taxation to the consumer.' He denies also that higher interest rates would have 
attracted any considerable further amount of loans towards the end of the 
War. Why this was so he explains at some length as follows : ' Before the 
War the aggregate of credit balances at banks was fairly evenly divided ^ 
between deposit accounts and current accounts (balances due to manufacturers, 
traders, and other business concerns). At the end of 1919 the relative propor- 
tions had changed to 1-2, or in some banks 1-3. This change was due to 
Government disbursements mainly finding their way to manufacturing and 
trading accounts. Only bank officials were in the position to note the great 
change in the distribution of credit. When manufacturers were urged to 
subscribe large sums, they replied that, on account of the rise in prices and 
increase of wages, they required considerably more liquid capital than in 
pre-war times.-* Also that they were nursing their liquid capital for the 
expected world-wide trade boom after peace was declared.' 

Question 4. — Hoiv j-s t/ie taxable capacity of a nation ascertained? Has it 
been reached and jtassed, as Mr. McKenna suggests, in the case of Great 
Britain ? 

Opinions on this question are bound to vary. Mr. Robertson gives our 
collective view when he deprecates ' any language which suggests that the 
taxable capacity of the nation is an absolute amount.' Evidently there must 
be some limit, though one cannot do more than suggest symptoms which point 
to the conclusion that the taxable limit is being approached. Much depends 
upon the purpose for which the Government imposes taxation , and upon whether 
the money taken by the tax-collector is spent inside or outside the country. 

Sir Edward Brabrook thinks that taxable capacity 'cannot be ascertained.' 
Mr. Robertson replies : ' Almost any taxation has some deterrent effect on 
enterprise and the accumulation of capital ; the question at any time is whether 
this deterrent effect is justified by the importance of the objects — national 
defence, fulfilment of obligation, or improvement of the quality of the popula- 
tion — to which that part of the nation's income which is spent communally is 
devoted. This is a question which, from its nature, admits of no precise 
statistical answer.' 

Mr. Shaw thinks that it cannot be ascertained ' without reference to a 
minimum standard of subsistence for the population, and a distinction between 
productive and destructive activity. There is no limit for productive activities 
except the limit of the citizen's capacity for production. The State may take 
all he produces if it supports him.' 

•' Mr. Lavington says that these were usually taken to be in the proportions 
of 1 to 2. Mr. Gibson replies that the proportions vary in different banks 
according to the meaning given to the words ' deposit account,' that his remarks 
apply to provincial banks and not to bank accounts in London. 

4 Dj.. Dalton comments : ' But if there had been heavier taxation and less 
inflation, money wages and prices would have been lower.' 


]\Ir. Hiist icplics : ' It would not bo easy to set a limit. If the Goveni- 
nu'iit could spend its money as profitably and productively as individuals, 
I should say, in that case, the revenue might sai'cly exceed half the total 
aggregate incomes of the people.' 

Dr. Cannan writes : ' Nohow, because it is relative to the system of taxation, 
disposition of the taxpayer, &c., and you can never tell whether you have the 
best possible conditions in this respect for raising taxation.' IMr. Lavington 
suggests that ' taxable limits are set by political and by economic considerations. 
On economic grounds alone it may be said that the taxable limit is reached 
when further taxation would inflict an injury on the community greater than 
(1) that inflicted by alternative methods of raising that revenue, or (2) that 
resulting from the abandonment of the purpose for which the revenue was 
required.' Mr. Ellinger finds the limit, ' when so much is taken out of the 
taxpayers' pockets that their incentive to produce is reduced, and when 
insufficient remains to provide the necessary capital to make up for wastage 
and to set to work new workers in an increasing jDopulation.' He does not 
think it has been reached here, especially after the abolition of the E.P.D. 

Dr. Dalton draws a distinction between (o) the proceeds of taxation spent 
within the country, and (&) those spent in making payments outside. In the 
case of («) he does not believe that the taxable capacity, ' as measured by a mere 
sum of money, or even by a percentage of the national income, can be ascer- 
tained at all.' It depends upon what particular taxes and what particular 
forms of public expenditure it is proposed to increase {or reduce). Dr. Dalton 
wishes to draw a further distinction between taxation devoted to repayment of 
internal debt and taxation devoted to paying for the destructive operations 
of war, or between a tax on spirits and a tax on the necessities of life 
or on savings. In the case of making payments outside the country ' the 
problem may be regarded as that of determining what is the maximum 
amount, or percentage, of the national income which can be taken away and be 
handed over to foreigners, without reducing the future national income.' 

Mr. Sykes thinks we must face ' the possibility or probability of a democratic 
Government being compelled to bow to popular opposition to an increase of 
taxation above an uncei'tain limit.' Again, we have to remember that the 
results of excessive taxation may only be felt in a gradual economic deteriora- 
tion, which may not be recognised for years. Mr. Sykes sees a need ' for more 
definite information in regard to the incidence of modern forms of taxation.' 
He cannot agree with Mr. McKenna's statement that the necessity for borrowing 
to pay taxes is an indication that the limits of taxation have been reached or 

Mr. Hilton Young answers : ' Directly, by a census of production only ; 
mdirectly, according to the fancy of the payer, as to what he likes to call a 
fair measure of it.' 

Mr. Pethick Lawrence thinks 'that no definite basis can be laid down." 
Mr. Mason answers : ' When it affects production unduly.' Mr. A. Hoare 
thinks that ' taxable capacity can only be ascertained by experimenting with 
taxes; Mr. McKenna was wrong.' 

Mr. Gibson thinks that the limit depends mainly on the distribution of 
taxation, but also on the level of prices and the general willingness to work 
harder. He does not think that it has been reached yet, ' providetl there bo 
increased production.' But taxation should be directed against those who made 
fortunes out of the War, with a corresponding remission for people with 
' fixed ' incomes. 

Sir J. C. Stamp replies : ' (o) By reference to the total surplus of produc- 
tion over the minimum of consumption that is functional or necessitated by 
the volume of that production, (b) This surplus be considered in relation 
to the number of inhabitants, and the proportion in which it is distributed. 
('•) It depends also upon the njanner in which the taxes are raised, (d) There 
can be no absolute answer, because it depends upon the reasons for, or subjects 
upon, which the money is to be spent, (e) There is a much larger capiicitv 
if the money is to be applied to the payment of interest, and a very much 
larger capacity if it is to be applied to the payment of internal debt. 

It has not been reached and passed for this country, as suggested by IMr. 
McKenna, if these facts are borne in mind. He has treated interest and debt 
]ust as they would be treated if the same money was .spent on armaments.' 


Dr. Dalton agrees with (e). 

Sir Drunimond Eraser writes : ' The taxable capacity of a nation is surely 
reached when taxpayers are forced to borrow from the banks to pay the 
taxes. Excessive taxation for the heroic repayment of debt can be reduced 
if the Government provide for the annual redemption of debt by a statutory 
sinking fund of one-half per cent, in addition to the interest. This would 
necessitate a bond continuously on tap to replace bonds falling due or bonds 
accepted in payment of taxes. Tlius the time for repayment would be spread 
over a longer number of years, and the Government debt would be spread over 
a larger number of people. Lancashire and Manchester give a striking example 
of the advantages of this financial policy. The cotton mills for -forty years 
have been mainly financed by the short-term loans of the people. The Man- 
chester Corporation for thirty years has also been financed in this way. All 
the money required has been obtained, in spite of strikes and other handicaps, 
and in spite of spectacular .stunts for Government war borrowing at a higher 
rate of interest ! The atmosphere thus created not only adds to public interest, 
but secures efficiency.' 

Question 5. — /*■ there any economic basis for the old idea of a balance 
between direct and indirect taxation? 

Our members and correspondents are almost unanimous in saying, as Sir 
Edward Brabrook puts it, that ' there is no necessary relation between direct 
and indirect taxation.' Dr. Cannan, Dr. Dalton, Mr. Hirst, Mr. Hoare, Mr. 
Pethick Lawrence, Mr. Mason, Mr. Robertson, all say 'No.' 

Sir J. C. Stamp answers : ' In theory, No ; but in the practical collection of 
taxes from the less wealthy classes. Yes.' Mr. Hilton Young replies : ' It was 
a good enough way of distribution over all classes before the War. No scientific 
justification, nothing but a rough approximation.' 

Dr. Dalton writes: 'Those who speak of a "balance" generally assume 
(a) that direct taxes are paid by the rich and indirect by the poor, and [b] that 
the totals paid by the rich and poor should remain in some constant proportion. 
But (a) is not necessarily true, for, e.g. an income tax on small incomes is 
paid by the poor, and taxes on luxuries are paid by the rich. As to [b), even 
if (a) were true, the proper distribution of the burden of taxation, whatever 
that may be, may require a change to be made in the previously existing 
proportion, even if the relative number and wealth of rich and poor do not 
change, and a fortiori if they do.' 

Mr. G. B. Shaw replies: 'No; only a psychological basis. If men will 
revolt against a direct tax of threepence, and will without protest pay Is. for 
three-halfpence worth of tobacco, direct and indirect taxation must be balanced 

Mr. Gibson thinks that ' the theoretical proportions must necessarily vary 
with changing economic conditions and changes in the distribution of the 
national income. The fixed-income class suffers least by additions to indirect 
taxation. If taxation be direct, producers, manufacturers, and traders pass 
part of it on to the consumer; consequently the fixed-income class receives 
double doses.' 

Dr. Dalton disagrees with Mr. Gibson's last sentence, and has some doubt 
whether the distinction between direct and indirect taxation has any use. 

Mr. Allen writes : ' Is not this an inversion of the usual law, which says 
that direct taxes stick where they fall, while indirect taxes are passed on to 
the consumer? It is not easy to say whether some taxes — e.g. the Excess 
Profits Duty — are direct or indirect, and it is possible that wage-earners and 
the salaried class would make an addition to their income tax a ground for 
claiming higher pay. In a primitive or partly-developed country it is natural 
for a Government to raise its revenue by taxing commodities. In the highly 
developed civilisation of to-day taxes on ordinary articles of consumption seem 
out of date ; they can have little relation to the ability of the taxpayer, and 
among people with small incomes they become a tax on families.' 

Mr. Lavington writes : ' I imagine that Mr. Gibson is right in holding that 
producers may shift a qjart of direct tax; but I greatly doubt if this is of any 
practical importance. Fixed-income classes could also shift such tax a little 
by restricting their savings and so slightly raising the rate of interest.' 

Mr. Sykes observes : ' I think that there is no foundation for this law ; it 


is just as easy to pass on a direct tax as an indirect tax if circumsta/n rg arc 

In reply to the above tnticism, Mr. Gibsnn expresses his opinion that direct 
taxes, such as the income tax, do not ' stick where they fall ' should the person 
directly taxed be in a position to pass on the tax to other shoulders. To support 
this opinion he gives the following illustration : — 

Imagine a wool merchant in normal times to be making 5000?. a year, after 
payment of income tax. Next imagine direct taxation to be increased to such 
an e.xtent as to cause the merchant's net income to be reduced, say, to 4000/. 
The merchant will widen his percentage gross profit on future sales in an 
endeavour to restore his customary net income and standard of living. The 
same applicvS to other traders, particularly retailers, who find their net incomes 
reduced by increased direct taxation. To what extent it will be possible to 
pass the increased direct taxation on to the consumer will depend on the strength 
of competition, home and foreign. 

For this and other reasons Mr. Gibson states he has never been in favour 
of a direct tax on wages. As consumers, wage-earners indirectly pay part of 
the direct taxation levied on manufacturers, merchants, retailers, and other 
classes who are in a position to pass part or the whole of increased direct 
taxation on to the consumer. 

Referring to the Excess Profits Duty, Mr. Gibson writes : ' It was a direct 
tax, though it became indirect on the consumer. The report of the Committee 
appointed to investigate the prices, costs, and profits of the manufacture of 
Yorkshire tweed cloths contained the following statement (Cmd. 858, p. 4) : " In 
practice we find that Excess Profits Duty is added by manufacturers to the 
prime cost of the article, and is an important factor in putting up prices." ' 

Question 6. — Has the value of indirect taxatioii been lessened by the t/reat 
increase in the number of Government employees, and by the acceptance of the 
principle that wages and salaries should rise as the cost of living rises? Is the 
last principle valid? 

This question has been rather misunderstood. The idea was that if the 
wages of Government employees rose with the cost of living, while the Govern- 
ment was employing millions of people during the War, it was little use to put 
taxes on commodities, because to do so would be to raise the cost of living 
and so increase the Government's expenditure. 

Mr. Hilton Young replies : ' Undoubtedly it has. Now that wages are so 
sensitive to the cost of living it is vain to try to load the burden on to the 
wage-earning class by means of indirect taxes. They can pass it straight on.' 
Dr. Cannan takes the opposite view of the first part of the question; but he 
answers the second part — ' Certainly not ; it's a kitten chasing its tail ! ' 
Mr. Hirst (perhaps misunderstanding the intention of the question) replies : 
'I do not see why Government employees should not smoke and drink as much 
as private employees. When the cost of living rises in consequence of capital 
having been wasted in war, an attempt to raise wages and salaries in proportion 
to the rise in the cost of living is bound to end in unemployment and disaster.' 

Mr. Robertson, drawing a distinction between the effect of inflation on 
prices and that of broader economic causes, replies : ' It is reasonable that a 
rise in prices arising out of the expansion of the instruments of payment 
should be followed by a roughly proportionate rise in money wages and salaries ; 
otherwise, those whose money incomes fluctuate with prices — i.e. the recipients 
of business profits — make a gain at the expense of the other classes. But 
it is not reasonable that the recipients of wages and salaries should never be 
called upon to bear a share, in the shape of rising prices, of a general national 
burden (occasioned, e.g. ))y war or a general decrease in the productivity of 
industry) except in cases where their incomes were already so low as to be 
barely compatible with decency or efficiency. The general argument for raising 
part of the revenue by well-devised indirect taxes is not, therefore, destroyed 
by the fact that of recent years money wages have been progressively raised in 
order to compensate for the effect of expansion of the instruments of payment. 

How far are such taxes, even though desirable, rendered ineffective by 
the fact that they are refunded in part to railwaymen. Government employees, 
and others, whose money wages vary with the price of commodities? I have 
not studied this question, but I should have thought that (Ij the articles taxed 


or likely to be taxed are either not included at all or pkiy a comparatively 
small part in the indices of price-changes on which wage-changes are based, 
(2) that the proportion of taxpayers affected by such arrangements is still 
comparatively small; I should not imagine, therefore, that any weighty argu- 
ments against the continuance or increase of indirect taxation could be founded 
upon these considerations.' 

Sir Edward Brabrook replies : ' The cost of living is not the only or the 
principal element in the determination of the rate of wages.' 

Dr. Dalton writes : ' I am not sure that I understand the first part of the 
question. Evidently, if the prices of certain commodities, which enter into 
the cost-of-living index-number, are raised by taxation, and if wages and 
salaries are linked to the cost of living by means of a (proportionate) sliding 
scale, the effect of these taxes on wages and salaries will be neutralised. But 
(u) tobacco and alcohol are not included in any British cost-of-living index- 
number; (6) the difficulty, if there is one, works both ways, for if the prices 
of tea, sugar, &c., were reduced by remission of taxation, wages and salaries 
on a simple cost-of-living sliding scale would also be reduced ; (c) the difficulty 
can easily be got over, as in some recent wage arbitrations, where money wages 
based on the cost-of-living index-number had been reduced by an allowance for 
a typical wage-earner's contribution to national taxation. 

' The principle of making wages and salaries rise (and fall) with the cost 
of living is not, in any general sense, "valid." But it is convenient as a 
means of reducing unrest and wage disputes during periods when the price-level 
is undergoing rapid changes chiefly due to monetary causes. In effect, wage- 
bargains are made, not in terms of money, but in terms of jrarchasing power, 
and during such periods the revisions reciuired in real wage-bargains will be 
smaller, and therefore more easily brought about, than the revisions which 
would be required in money wage-bargains. Compare the present state of the 
railways, where money wages move on a sliding scale, with that of the coal 
mines, where they do not.' 

Mr. Pethick Lawrence, dividing the question into three, says 'No' to (a), 
'Yes' to (6), and 'Yes' to (c). 'For small salaries, so long as there is a 
margin of taxable capacity elsewhere, but as the salary rises it should not 
completely apply.' Sir J. C. Stamp replies: 'To some extent. The jrrinciple 
is not wholly valid. It is true that wages should rise and fall with prices, 
but not to an equal extent or range — only enough to preserve the iiroportion 
of the actual total volume of production as the reward of any single service. 
So far as irrices are up because production is 20 per cent, down, then real wages 
should be 20 per cent, down — i.e. money wages should rise only to 80 per cent, 
of the price-rise.' 

Mr. JNIason says 'Yes.' Mr. Bernard Shaw replies: (a) 'It depends on 
whether the employees are productive or not. Two postmen and a coster- 
monger will yield as much indirect taxation as two costermongers and a postman. 
But if you substitute sinecurists or soldiers for postmen, taxation on their 
consumption is illusory, (h) In the case of subsistence wages, Yes, obviously. 
Necestity is always valid.' 

Mr. Allen writes: 'In my opinion the "principle" ought never to have 
been accepted. Surely it is hardly possible that any large section of the 
population should be able to maintain their pre-war standard of living during 
a really big war 7 It is no less evidently unfair that a second section of the 
population should have to sacrifice their lives, and that a third section should 
have to sacrifice a large part of their income while the first section makes no 
sacrifices at all. No doubt there are people on the margin of subsistence who 
cannot be asked to give up their bare necessities of life, unless the country 
is in a state of siege. But they may be asked to work harder. In any case 
it seems most inequitable, as well as politically inexpedient, that Govetnmenfc 
employees should have enjoyed (a) special exemption from military service and 
[h) war-bonus additions to their wages and salaries. At the present time there 
is much resentment among other wage-earners and salary-earners over the 
favoured position of Government employees.' 

On this Sir J. C. Stamp comments : ' The principle is perfectly valid, see 
above, if it doesn't connote extent.' 

i:ffegts of the war on credit, currency, and finance. 277 

Question 7. — It is generally taken for tjranted that certain transactions — 
e.g. the purchase and sale of stocks and shares or real prop.erty, the rai.'sing of 
mortgages, the hiring of a house, and so on — provide suitable occasions for 
taxation. Is there any justification in economic theory for a tax on fran.tactions? 
Does not the more enlightened view point to the freeing of transactions as well 
as trade from the inquisition of the tax-collector'/ 

This question was thrown into a form which suggests the answer, and we 
are nearly agreed in saying ' Yes ' to it. Thus Mr. Hirst, agreeing with the 
view implied in the question, says : ' It seems to me that taxes on transactions 
are bound to reduce and hinder trade. Hence I would certainly reduce rather 
than increase such taxes.' But we admit that there may be a case for continuing 
taxes to which people have become accustomed, especially when, as with some 
of the stamp duties, their payment lends a kind of additional sanction to the 
transaction taxed. 

Sir Edward Brabrook replies : ' Freedom of transactions and of trade is 
essential to the welfare of the country.' 

Mr. Robertson replies (Mr. Lavington and INIr. Ellinger agreeing with 
him) : ' Convenience, ease of collection, and productivity must be given some 
weight in framing a system of taxation as well as justice. Even from the 
standpoint of justice, there is perhaps something to be said for making a special 
charge on those who avail themselves to a special extent of the readiness of the 
State to enforce contracts. I am not inclined to favour a general repeal of 
taxes on transactions ; indeed, I should like, if practicable, to see them developed 
in such a way as to secure part of the increment of capital value arising in 
cases of speculative purchase and resale of houses, securities, &c. (unless these 
can be assessed to income tax).' 

Dr. Dalton thinks that ' a moderate tax on transactions is neither a very 
good nor a very bad tax ; it tends to check production less than some e.xisting 
taxes, but more than others.' Mr. Hoare thinks that these taxes 'should be 
retained for a long time to come, so as to allow the worst taxes — e.g. those on 
tea and sugar — and local rates to be taken off before stamps are touched.' 

Sir J. C. Stamp takes a different view. ' There is very little justification 
for taxes of this kind, excejrt so far as they serve as convenient methods of 
registration, or lending validity to transactions.' 

Mr. Hilton Young replies emphatically : ' A rotten tax ! No relation to 
ability to pay; not even equitably spread over the limited area that it covers.' 

Dr. Cannan replies : ' Transactions arc trade. When you have exhausted 
the better taxes and still want money you take the worse, as Adam Smith 

Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Mason reply 'Yes' to the last part of the question. 
Mr. Shaw replies : ' Every tax that hampers a beneficial human activity is 
economically bad. But it may be psychologically expedient.' 

Question 8. — // the principle of 'ability to pay'' he accepted, does it no 
follow that the greater part of the national revenue shovld be raised by income 

This question also suggests the answer, and again we are able to reply 
mainly in the affirmative. In November 1917 our Committee appointed a 
Sub-Committee on Income Tax Reform, and seventeen months later the Sub- 
committee was invited to give evidence before the Royal Commission on the 
Income Tax. The Sub-Committee threw its opinions into a few short ' points ' 
or sentences for its proof of evidence before the Royal Commission. The 
first six sentences ran as follows : 

1. That the income tax is the fairest, cheapest, and most productive of all 
possible taxes. 

Footnote. — We assume, of course, the existence of a constitutional 
Government; a despotic Government might use the income tax as 
an instrument of oppression. 

2. That the tax requires to be adjusted to the much-increased demand for 

3. That it is indefinitely elastic, and can be made to produce as much 
revenue as the citizens as a body think justifiable. 

4. That if skilfully adjusted to the ' ability ' of each taxpayer it imposes 
little real burden. 


5. That a heavy income tax lias a tendency to lower prices of conmiodities 
in general, just as an inflation of the currency increases them. 

6. That a graduated income tax, unlike most (if not all) other taxes, makes 
for greater equality of spending power.' 

Dr. Dalton comments on point 5 : ' This seems to me a fallacy. You trans- 
fer purchasing power from income-taxpayers to beneficiaries of public 
expenditure, e.g. civil servants, holders of War Loan, old-age pensioners. 
Total purchasing power is not diminished. Why, then, should prices fall ? ' 

^Ir. Lavington also expresses a doubt about point 5 and asks, ' May not 
the most important effects of a heavy income tax be : (1) to compel an exten- 
sion of bank loans, and (2) to check productivity; in both directions tending 
to raise prices? ' The Sub-Committee contemplated a large reform in income-tax 
law and practice, of which the most important items were that the point of 
total exemption should be lowered until the tax was paid liy all persons who 
could lie considered as having any tax-paying ability, and that the tax should 
be collected at the source wherever possible — e.g. that in the case of salaries, 
wages, and other periodical payments the tax should be deducted by the 
person making the payment and that the taxpayer's abatement and allowances 
should be taken into account at the time of deduction. On the question of 
prices, what the Sub-Committee, which was working while the C4overnment still 
made no attempt to meet its expenditure out of genuine revenue, meant was 
that the payment of wages and salaries out of loans instead of taxes necessarily 
raised prices. If the income tax had been raised sharply at the outbreak of 
war, and had been applied to all recipients of income above some very low 
point (e.g. the annual value of a private soldier's pay, keep, and allowances), 
the purchasing power of ordinary persons would have been reduced and prices 
would have been lower in consequence. As Dr. Dalton says elsewhere in the 
present report, the depreciation of the currency was equivalent to an income 
tax without graduations, abatements, or exemptions. 

A serious fact about the income tax is that it is paid by so small a propor- 
tion of the citizens who possess the Parliamentary vote. Exemptions and 
abatements, which allow a married man with three children to earn almost £5 
per week without being assessable to income tax, are barely compatible with 
democratic Government. If ' Taxation implies Representation,' ought it not 
to follow that ' I'epresentation implies direct taxation ? ' Citizens who, by 
their vote at Parliamentary elections, ultimately determine national policy, 
ought to have the responsibility which goes with power brought home to them 
by high taxes if they have A-oted for a costly policy, or low taxes if they have 
voted for a policy of retrenchment. 

Hardly any other tax can be adjusted to the ' ability ' of citizens, for even 
death duties, although carefully graduated, only affect incomes from property, 
not the amount which individuals have to spend. Some taxes, e.g. those on 
tea and sugar, fall heaviest on the man (or widow) with a family and a small 

Sir Drummond Eraser writes : ' In my opinion the bulk of the revenue 
should be raised by income tax. It forces the taxpayer to do without something 
else in order to pay the tax. In practice this is a transfer of purchasing power, 
and therefore prevents monetary inflation.' 

Mr. Hirst replies : ' I agree that the income tax, if it begins on very low 
incomes, ought to be relied upon as the mainstay of the national revenue. And 
if by raising it the yield per penny were greatly diminished, I should regard 
that as a sign that the limit of the taxable capacity of the nation had been 

Sir J. C. Stamp, Mr. Hilton Young, Mr. Mason, and Mr. Hoare answer 
' Yes.' 

Mr. Shaw also answers ' Yes : all of it. Include " ability to work " and 
you may substitute poll tax for income tax. If it were not for the phenomenon 
of unearned income arising through the operation of the law of rent, income 
tax would act as a premium on idleness.' 

Mr. Robertson replies : ' Yes ; if we may include death duties in income 
tax, but there is much to be said for having some taxes which hit people 
in proportion to their expenditure (especially luxurious expenditure) rather 
than their ivenme^ and thus discriminate, to some extent, in favour of saving. 



And I should not be in a hurry about discarding at present any taxes which 
people have become tolerably accustomed to.' 

Professor Foxwell has expressed the same views, and is still more m favour 
of taxing expenditure and exempting savings. ^ 

Dr. Dalton (who refers to an article on ' Tlie Study of Public Finance in 
!■:<■<, iioiiiira, .Tune, 1921) approves of the present exemptions and abatements, 
lie thinks that ' ability to pay ' is an ambiguous phrase. ' It may have refer- 
ence either to effects on production, to effects on distribution, or to current 
views of equity. I agree, however, that a large proportion of the national 
revenue should be obtained from income tax.' 

Sir J. C. Stamp comments : ' The phrase is not really ambiguous in general 
use, only made so bv a few writers who import new ideas into it.' 

Mr. Lawrence leplies 'Yes, except that in order to be really equitable the 
income tax would have to be very inquisitive ; it is not a bad plan to tax 
luxuries as well, and for practical purposes to have some other taxation.' 

Dr. Cannan, however, replies shortly ' No; why should it? ' 

Mr. Gibson prefers to avoid 'a multitude of taxes,' and most economists 
will agree with him. He would like to sweep away all existing taxes except 
the Estate Duties and Liquor Duties, and to substitute a single tax. He 
suggests a flat-rate income tax with the present abatements, and would impose 
additional graduated rates on annual increases of income, but the additional 
tax must rTot be too great to throttle enterprise or discourage saving. He 
thinks that existing capital ' is in the control of too few persons.' 

Sir Edward Brabrook, who does not approve of the present abatements, 
exemptions, and allowances, writes : ' The question of ability to live on what 
is left after payment of taxation does not arise in a well-graduated tax.' 

Question 9.— A Sub-Committee was appointed last year to inquire and report 
upon 'The Currency and the Gold Standard,' with Mr. Lavmgton and Mr. 
Robertson as Jpint-'Conveners, but our questionnaire was gradually extended, 
mainly by the suggestions of iNIr. Lavin"ton and jNIr. Robertson, to cover 
most of the Sub-Committee's province. The original question ran thus : ' Can 
a paper currency {such ax a " Bradhiiriy "), -which ix controlled h;/ the Govern- 
ment and>. hears no fixed relation to any stock of gold or silver, serve as u 
measure and standard of rrduc or as a satisfactory medium of exchange?' 

Our members and correspondents seem to agree with Dr. Cannan's reply : 
' It is quite a satisfactory medium of exchange, but a bad standard.' 

Dr Cannan also wi-ites : ' There is no reason to suppose that the absolute 
limitation of the Bank of England's fiduciary issue to 18,000,000/., or whatever 
it has been, and the abolition of other fiduciary issues, has been of any use 
for the standard, and it certainly has not made the medium of exchange any 
better. Convertibility into free gold is all that is required to keep the paper 
at gold value ; uniformity and cognoscibility make a single issue desirable, 
but that can be attained without making notes into gold certificates.' 

Dr. Dalton replies : ' If not over-issued to such a point that public con- 
fidence in it disappears, it is an excellent medium of domestic excbanee, and 
much more economical and convenient than gold coins. If intelligently 
controlled by the Government it might become quite a good standard of value.' 

Mr. EUinger thinks that a paper currency, 'if efficiently controlled, accord- 
ing to the requirements of production, and not according to the requirements 
of the Government, might be a satisfactory measure and standard of value, 
and a satisfactory medium of exchange for internal transactions, but the 
likelihood of such a control being efficient is so small, and the desirability 
of maintaining a gold standard for the purpose of international trade is so 
great, that, for this country at all events, the maintenance of a gold standard 

is essential.' 

Mr. Robertson, who added sub-questions (1), (2). (3). and (4), replied as 
follows to the original question : ' Theoretically, an inconvertible paper cur- 
rency, nroprrly managed, would be a better standard than one tied to gold, 
the value of "which cannot be expected to remain stable. But the inherent 
tendency, both of indu.stry and commercial activity, to press for a continuous 
expansion of the instruments of naymrnf is so strong that there is a good 
deal to be said for tetherincr both Governments and bankers down to gold, 
which, though far from a satLsfactorv standard, is better than no standard at all. 


' Fmtlier, if other countries have a currency whose value is stable in terms 
of gold there is a strong argument for our doing the same, in order to 
facilitate international business. The U.S.A. have such a currency at present, 
and it is perhaps more likely that the European countries and the Dominions 
will eventually return to such a system than that they will make a good 
job of any other. 

' There seems no reason why a paper currency, which is convertible into 
gold only for the purpose of makintj payments abroad, should not serve as 
a satisfactory medium of exchange within the country.' 

Dr. Dalton agrees with Mr. Robertson's views, though he thinks the last 
sentence, 'an understatement.' He adds: 'To me it seems obvious that a 
paper currency is a satisfactory medium of domestic exchange, though it 
may be a bad standard of value.' 

" 'Sir. Shaw, with more scepticism, replies : ' It can, if it is honestly con- 
trolled, but it never is.' Mr. Lawrence agrees. Sir J. 0. Stamp, Sir Drummond 
Eraser, Mr. Sykes, and Mr. Mason answer ' No,' Sir Josiah adding : ' Not 
as at present controlled. Not if we are thinking of the long run.' Mr. Sykes 
and Mr. Allen believe that the standard of value should be, as far as 
possible, independent of Government or other human control. Mr. Sykes adds : 
' I am firmly convinced that, in spite of the admitted defects of gold as a 
standard, the lialance of advantages in its favour, as compared with any 
standard dependent on Government control, is very great indeed. The ques- 
tion of the medium of exchange is of minor importance.' 

Sir Drummond Eraser says that a paper currency should be issued by 
the Bank of England on a gold basis, as our Committee suggested in its 
1915 Report. He adds : ' I believe in the cast-iron principles of the Bank 
Act. The mistake in issuing the currency notes was that the amount at 
first was unlimited. This enabled the Bank of England to manufacture bank 
credit ad lib. and without restraint.' 

Question 9 (1). — Do u-e want oiir ^jciV^-ZereZ to remain stationary? or to 
be continvally falling [as in 1873-96), or to he continually rising slightly (as 
in 1896-1914) > 

It is assumed in this question that prices in general may be raised or 
lowered by an increase or decrease of currency, and either by natural causes, 
such as the discovery of new or exhaustion of old goldfields, or by the 
action of the Government in expanding or contracting a paper currency. This 
is a commonplace of economics, and does not contradict the opinions given 
in the replies to Sub-questions '1,' '2.' and '3.' 

With so much experience of the troubles caused by rising prices between 
1914 and 1921, our members and correspondents agree in not wanting the 
price-level to rise. There is some difference of opinion as to whether it is 
desirable that the price-level should fall further. Dr. Cannan replies : ' Keep 
it steady ' ; ]Mr. Lawrence says : ' Stationary or slightly falling ' ; Mr. ^lason 
says : ' As stationary as possible ' ; Sir J. C. Stamp prefers it to be ' continually 
falling, not to a pre-War level, but to a level where the superstructure of 
credit has a reasonable relation to a metallic basis.' Dr. Dalton thinks that 
' if future price-movements were perfectly foreseen by all parties it would 
not matter what those movements were. But perfect, or even tolerably good, 
all-round foresight being unattainable, I think that, on the whole, a price- 
level slowly and steadily falling is most to be desired.' Mr. Hoare, placing 
more trust in Government control of paper money than the rest of us, wants 
the level to ' tend constantly downwards, paper money being always so increased 
as to make the drop in prices very slow, i.e. the drop should be due to 
increased output, and the drop should be so hindered by increased currency 
as to prevent that drop from being so pronounced as to check output.' 

!Mr. Ellinger also answers ' Stationary.' but he adds : ' I should like to 
see prices on the level corresponding to the average level which existed at 
the time the War Debt was created, and in so far as the steneral level of prices 
may be hiaher than such level I should like to see prices falling gradually 
as public debt is paid off, or converted to a lower rate of interest. It must 
be borne in mind, particularly as regards the three following clauses (" 2," " 3," 
and "4 ") that the level of prices in this country depends very largely on the 
general level of world prices, and I should be sorry to see the general level 


of prices of our exports falling more rapidly than the general level of prices 
of our imports.' 

Mr. Shaw replies : ' I cannot understand anyone but a speculator " wanting " 
prices to tluctuate. ' 

Question 9 (2). — In inirguit of our object, whatever it is, ou(jht we to seek 
to tiiiilrifnin our turrency at a jmrifi/ with tjold? 

This is one of the few questions on which we are able to reydy with practical 
unanimity in favour of linking our currency with gold. Professor Cannan 
replies : ' Get it to par with gold first, and then join other gold countries 
in seeking either greater stability of gold or a substitute for goFd.' Mr. Mason 
also wishes 'Gradual contraction of the paper currency until parity of exchange 
with gold standard countries has been re-established. A date then fixed for 
resumption of specie payments. Legislative enactments would probably be 
necessary to facilitate machinery of convertibility and regulation of currency 
issues between the Treasury and the Bank of England and the other banks 
throughout the country. All of the foregoing would be helped and stimulatea by 
drastic economy in every department of the State.' 

ISIr. Pethick Lawrence replies : ' In default of an index-number standard 
(Professor Irving Fisher's compensated dollar), which I regard as theoretically 
best, I favour gold parity.' 

Sir J. C. Stamp replies : ' With gold certainly, but I do not think an actual 
parity matters, so long as there is reasonable stability.' 

Dr. Dalton replies : ' As an immediate policy. Yes. When this is achieved 
the next stage should be to seek to apply Professor Irving Fisher's or some 
other similar scheme.' 

Mr. Gibson, who is reading a paper at the Edinburgh meeting on the 
subject, replies: 'I think the time is ripe for the introduction of a new 
standard of value, to be stabilised by the interest factor when an inter- 
national agreed-upon index-number has fallen to pre- War level. The working 
man is surely entitled to a continuity of employment. In pre-War times the 
state of employment was dependent on variation of gold supplies. I suggest 
an international note-issuing bank (denominations of notes, say, 1.000?. and 
upwards), such notes to form the basis of bank cash reserves, and cover for 
internal paper issues. Bank and Government applicants for international notes 
would pay interest thereon, the rate of which would be subject to variation. 
Each country would have its own internal rates of interest, varied from time 
to time according to the course of the exchanges and domestic conditions. 
Gold in pre-War times functioned as the mercury of the barometer that 
compelled interest rates to be altered from time to time in accordance with 
the current economic atmosphere. The interest factor preserved the due pro- 
portion between the employment of labour for producing consumable goods and 
capital goods.' 

Mr. Lavington replies : ' Against the advantages of re-establishing a gold 
standard must, of course, be set the evils resulting from (1) the raising the 
value of the Bradbury to that of the sovereign, or (2) the fixing of its value 
in terms of gold at something lower than the sovereign. I doubt if it 
is socially desirable to lower the level of prices, except in so far as this 
may be necessary to re-establish a gold standard. In correcting old injustices 
in this wav we should also be creating new ones.' 

Mr. Hirst and Mr. Allen maintain : ' That any monetary measure and 
standard of value should possess intrinsic value, so that its utilitv should 
not depend upon the pleasure of the Government. No doubt the fact that 
gold has been so generally adopted as a standard adds to its value.' 

Question 9 (3). — If ko, should it be at the old parity, or some other — say 
one rorrespondiiia to the present gold ralve of the Bradbury? 

Here som^ differences of opinion will be found. Professor Cannan replies i 
' The old. The fixed-income people will have been a good deal robbed even 

Dr. Dalton. Mr. Ellinger. INIr. Lawrence, and Mr. Mason favour the old 
parity. Mr. Shaw replies : ' It depends on circumstances. A big change in 
the purchasing power of a currency upset,? everythinq; frightfully. A restora- 
tion may he as great a calamity as an acceptancp of. the change.'. Mr. Allen 
Agrees, and vegrfts that thebC eotifiidijfattorts, which -team so olivious how, 
1D21 M 


should not have had more weight with the Chancellor of the Exchequer and 
his advisers in August 1914 and during the earlier months of War. 

Mr. Hoare replies : ' I don't see that it matters theoretically, and therefore 
I should aim at the old parity.' 

Sir J. C. Stamp replies : ' Depends on foreign countries to some extent. 
On the whole. Yes.' 

Question 9 (4). — If the old parity, should an effort he made to restore it in 
the immediate future'/ If so, hoiv? 

Professor Cannan replies : ' Yes, by quietly reducing the Bradbury issue 
without making any great definite profession about it.' 

Dr. Dalton says : 'If " immediate future " means " within the next eighteen 
months, " Yes." ' As to the method, he refers to his answer to question ' 13 ' 

Mr. Ellinger fears that ' No heroic measures are possible to enable restora- 
tion in the immediate future. Exports should be increased to the uttermost. 
Economy of consumption should be practised in imported articles not forming 
the raw materials or semi-raw materials of our industries. Efforts should be 
made to draw gold from debtor countries, like Spain, who have an adverse 
exchange and a large accumulation of gold. At the present time Government 
securities in the hands of the public, in so far as they are used to obtain 
advances from banks, cause inflation of credit ; the total amount of credit 
available should be measured by the total volume of commodities to be financed, 
and not by the total volume of commodities, 'plus a Government debt which 
represents no existing commodities. The gradual restoration of the credit 
position on these lines would lead to a reduction of the currency notes in 
circulation and to a more speedy restoration of the gold standard. The reduc- 
tion of the Government debt, particularly of floating debt, would have the same 

Dr. Dalton comments : ' But t