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(102nd YEAR) 









Officers and Council, 1932-33 v 

Sectional Officers, York Meeting, 1932 ix 

Annual Meetings : Places and Dates, Presidents, Attendances, 
Receipts, Sums Paid on account of Grants for Scientific 
Purposes (1831-1932) xii 

Narrative of the York Meeting xvi 

Report of the Council to the General Committee (1931-32) xviii 

General Treasurer's Account (1931-32) xxvii 

Research Committees (1932-33) xxxviii 

Resolutions and Recommendations (York Meeting) xliii 

The Presidential Address : 

An Engineer's Outlook. By Sir Alfred Ewing i 

Sectional Presidents' Addresses : 

Some aspects of Applied Geophysics. By Prof. A. O. Rankine 21 

Some aspects of Stereochemistry. By Dr. W. H. Mills 37 

The contacts of Geology : the Ice Age and early man in Britain. 

By Prof. P. G. H. Boswell 57 

The pioneer work of the Systematist. By The Rt. Hon. Lord 

Rothschild 89 

The geographical study of Society and World Problems. By 

Prof. H. J. Fleure 103 

Britain's access to Overseas Markets. By Prof. R. B. Forrester 119 

The Call to the Engineer and Scientist. By Prof. Miles 

Walker 131 

The place of Archaeology as a science, and some practical 

problems in its development. By Dr. D. Randall-MacIver 147 

Current constructive theories in Psychology. By Prof. B. 

Edgell 169 

a 2 



The growing Tree. By Prof. J. H. Priestley 185 

The Advancement of Science in Schools : its magnitude, direc- 
tion and sense. By W. M. Heller 209 

Sheep Farming : a distinctive feature of British agriculture. By 

Prof. R. G. White 229 

Reports on the State of Science, etc 257 

Sectional Transactions 300 

The British Association Standards of Resistance, 1865-1932. 

By Sir Richard T. Glazebrook and Dr. L. Hartshorn .... 417 

Evening Discourses 432 

Conference of Delegates of Corresponding Societies ......'... 437 

References to Publication of Communications to the Sections 451 

A Scientific Survey of York and District i-ioo 

Index ;«i.i4-.. lir- vtu . .aw loi 

Publications of the British Association (At end) 

ritislj ^ssariation for tj.u §.tibanc^m^nt 

0f Sci^na, 




Sir Alfred Ewing, K.C.B., LL.D., D.Sc, F.R.S. 

Sir F. GowLAND Hopkins, LL.D., D.Sc, Pres.R.S. 


The Rt. Hon. the Lord Mayor of 

York, 1931-32 (Alderman R. H. 

Vernon Wragge, J. P.). 
The Recorder of York (the late Rt. 

Hon. Sir Herbert Nield, K.C.). 
The Sheriff of York, 1931-32 

(Arnold S. Rowntree). 
His Grace the Lord Archbishop of 

York (The Most Rev. William 

Temple, D.Litt.). 
The Very Rev. the Dean of York 

(Dr. H. N. Bate). 
The Most Honourable the Marquess 

of Zetland, P.O., G.C.S.I., G.C.I.E., 

The Rt. Hon. the Earl of Chester- 
field, K.G., P.O., G.C.V.O. 
The Rt. Hon. Lord Irwin, K.G. 
The Rt. Hon. Lord Danesfort, K.G. 
The Lord Lieutenant of the West 

Riding of Yorkshire and the 

City of York (The Rt. Hon. the 

Earl of Harewood, K.G., D.S.O., 

The Lord Lieutenant of the East 

Riding of Yorkshire (The Rt. 

Hon. Lord Deramore, T.D.). 

The Lord Lieutenant of the North 

Riding of Yorkshire (The Hon. 

Geoffrey Howard). 
The High Sheriff of Yorkshire 

(Major F. H. Fawkes, J. P.). 
General the Hon. Sir J. F. Gathorne- 

Hardy, C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O. 
Roger Lumley, M.P. 
F. G. Burgess. 


Sir Wilfrid Thomson, Bt., J. P. 

W. H. St. Quintin, D.L., J. P. (Presi- 
dent of the Yorkshire Philosophical 

Frank Gr^en. 

The Rt. Hon. the Lord Mayor of 
York, 1930-31 (Alderman Sir W. A. 
FoRSTER Todd, J. P.). 

The Sheriff of York, 1930-31 
(William Cooper). 

The Vice-Chancellor of Leeds Uni- 
versity (Sir J. B. Baillie, O.B.E., 
LL.D., J.P.). 

The Vice-Chancellor of Sheffield 
University (A. W. Pickard- 
Cambridge, D.Litt.). 

The Principal, Hull University 
College (Prof. A. E. Morgan). 




The Lord Lieutenant of Leicester- 
shire (Sir Arthur Hazlerigg, Bt., 

The Rt. Worshipful the Lord Mayor 

OF Leicester (Councillor A. 

Hawkes, J.P.)- 
The Lord Bishop of Leicester (The 

Rt. Rev. C. C. B. Bardsley, D.D.). 
The High Sheriff of Leicestershire 

(Major E. G. Gillilan). 
His Grace the Duke of Rutland. 
The Rt. Hon. the Earl Ferrers, 

The Rt. Hon. Lord Belper. 
The Visitor of University College, 

Leicester (Prof. Gilbert Murray, 

M.A., LL.D., D.Litt., F.B.A.). 

The Principal of University Col- 
lege, Leicester (F. L. Atten- 
borough, m.a.). 

The President of the Leicester 
Literary and Philosophical 
Society (H. Percy Gee, J.P.). 

C. J. Bond, C.M.G., F.R.C.S. 
Councillor Astley V. Clarke, M.A., 
M.D., D.L., J.P. 

George Farnham, F.S.A. 

Lt.-Col. R. E. Martin, C.M.G., D.L., 

Alderman Sir Jonathan North, D.L., 

The Rev. Bernard Uffen, A.T.S. 

Sir JosiAH Stamp, G.B.E., D.Sc. 


Prof. P. G. 

H. Boswell, O.B.E., D.Sc, 

Prof. F. J. M. 
O.B.E., M.A. 

Stratton, D.S.O., 

O. J. R. HowARTH, O.B.E., Ph.D. 

H. Wooldridge, B.Sc. 


Dr. F. A. Bather, F.R.S. 

Sir Henry Dale, C.B.E., F.R.S. 

Prof. J. Drever. 

Dr. A. Ferguson. 

Prof. R. B. Forrester. 

Sir Henry Fowler, K.B.E. 

Prof. W. T. Gordon. 

Prof. Dame Helen Gwynne-Vaughan, 

Sir Daniel Hall, K.C.B., F.R.S. 
Dr. H. S. Harrison. 
Dr. H. S. Hele-Shaw, F.R.S. 
Sir James Henderson. 
A. R. Hinks, C.B.E., F.R.S. 

Dr. C. W. KiMMiNS. 

CoL Sir H. G. Lyons, F.R.S. 

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

Prof. E. B. PouLTON, F.R.S. 
Dr. C. Tate Regan, F.R.S. 
Sir John Russell, O.B.E., F.R.S. 
Prof. A. C. Seward, F.R.S. 
Dr. N. V. SiDGWiCK, F.R.S. 
Dr. G. C. Simpson, C.B., C.B.E., F.R.S. 
Prof. J. F. Thorpe, C.B.E., F.R.S. 
H. T. Tjzard, C.B., F.R.S. 
Prof. A. M. Tyndall. 
Prof. F. E. Weiss, F.R.S. 




Past-Presidents of the Association, the President for the year, the President 
and Vice-Presidents for the ensuing Annual Meeting, past and present General 
Treasurers and General Secretaries, and the Local Treasurers and Local Secretaries 
for the Annual Meetings immediately past and ensuing. 


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

Sir E. Sharpey-Schafer, F.R.S. 

Sir Oliver Lodge, F.R.S. 

Sir Arthur Schuster, F.R.S. 

Sir Arthur Evans, F.R.S. 

Prof. Sir C. S. Sherrington, O.M., 

G.B.E., F.R.S. 
Prof, the Rt. Hon. Lord Rutherford 

OF Nelson, O.M., F.R.S. 
Prof. Sir Horace Lamb, F.R.S. 

H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, K.G., 

D.C.L., F.R.S. 
Prof. Sir Arthur Keith, F.R.S. 
Prof. Sir William H. Bragg, O.M., 

K.B.E., F.R.S. 
Sir Thomas H. Holland, K.C.I.E., 

K.C.S.I.. F.R.S. 
Prof. F. O. Bower, F.R.S. 
Gen. the Rt. Hon. J. C. Smuts, P.C, 

C.H., F.R.S. 


Sir E. Sharpey-Schafer, F.R.S. 
Dr. D. H. Scott, F.R.S. 

Sir Frank E. Smith, K.C.B., C.B.E.. 
Sec. R.S. 

Prof. J. L. Myres, O.B.E., F.S.A., F.B.A. 

Prof. A. L. BowLEY. 


I Prof. W. W. Watts, F.R.S. 

Sir BucKSTON Browne, F.R.C.S., F.S.A. 



The Rt. Hon. the Lord Mayor of York 
(Alderman R. H. Vernon Wragge, J. P.). 


Walter- E. Collinge, D.Sc, F.S.A., F.L.S. 
Percy J. Spalding, B.A., LL.M. 
Col. Peter Warren, C.M.G., C.B.E. 

Sir Wilfrid Thomson, Bt., J. P. 



Rev. Chancellor Austen. 

Aid. W. H. Birch, J.P. 

H. E. Bloor. 

J. L. Brockbank. 

Major S. Brook. 

G. Laycock Brown. 

The Very Rev. Canon Chadwick. 

Councillor F. W. Chapman. 

J. A. Cooper. 

Councillor J. W. Dow. 

C. E. Elmhirst. 

D. Gray. 

Mrs. Edwin Gray, J.P. 

Sir James Hamilton. 

Rev. F. Harrison. 

G. S. Hughes. 

Sir John J. Hunt. 

A. Hurst. 

Aid. J. B. Inglis. 

G. Johnson. 

Lt.-Col. KiRBY. 

S. Melmore. 

Aid. J. B. MORRELL. 

Mrs. J. B. MoRRELL (Lady Mayoress). 
J. R. F. Robinson. 

A. S. RowNTREE (Sheriff). 
Mrs. A. S. RowNTREE, J.P. 

B. S. RowNTREE. 

Aid. C. W. Shipley. 

S. H. Smith. 

Sir W. A. FoRSTER Todd, J.P. 

P. J. ViNTER. 

S. Walker. 
Miss Waller. 
Councillor A. Wilkinson. 
H. J. Wilkinson. 
G. Wilson. 


Rooms and Buildings. 
Chairman. — Major S. Brook. 
Secretary. — F. W. Spurr. 

Chairman. — Councillor J. W. Dow. 
Secretary. — P. A. Harverson. 

Lodgings and Hospitality. 
Chairman. — C. E. Elmhirst. 
Secretaries . — Geoffrey Thompson. 

Councillor A. Wilkinson. 


-Sir Wilfrid Thomson, Bt. 



Alderman Sir Jonathan North, D.L., J.P. 


F. P. Armitage. 
Colin D. B. Ellis. 


H. Purt. 


H. A. Pritchard. 
C. T. A. Sadd. 




President. — Prof. A. O. Rankine, O.B.E. 

Vice-Presidents. — Prof. L. S. Palmer ; Prof. G. C. Steward ; Prof. R. 

Whiddington, F.R.S. 
Recorder. — Dr. Allan Ferguson. 
Secretaries. — Capt. F. Entwistle ; W. M. H. Greaves ; Dr. Ezer Griffiths, 

F.R.S. ; Prof. E. H. Neville. 
Local Secretary. — C. R. Featherstone. 


President.— Dt. W. H. Mills, F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents. — Prof. H. M. Dawson ; Prof. C. S. Gibson, O.B.E. , F.R.S. 

Prof. R. Whytlaw Gray, F.R.S. ; Brig. -Gen. Sir Harold Hartley, C.B.E. 

F.R.S. ; Dr. R. E. Slade. 
Recorder. — Prof. T. S. Moore. 

Secretaries. — Dr. J. Masson Gulland ; Dr. F. G. Mann. 
Local Secretary. — C. E. L. Livesey 


President. — Prof. P. G. H. Boswell, O.B.E., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents. — C. E. N. Bromehead ; Prof. W. G. Fearnsides ; Prof. P. F. 

Kendall, F.R.S. ; Prof. P. Pruvost ; Prof. W. W. Watts, F.R.S. 
Recorder.- — I. S. Double. 

Secretaries. — Dr. H. C. Versey ; Dr. A. K. Wells. 
Local Secretary. — S. Melmore. 


President. — Rt. Hon. Lord Rothschild, F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents. — Dr. W. E. Collinge ; Prof. J. E. Duerden ; Dr. K. Jordan 

Prof. E. B. PouLTON, F.R.S. 
Recorder. — G. L. Purser. 
Secretary. — Prof. W. M. Tattersall. 
Local Secretary. — A. J. A. Woodcock. 


President. — Prof. H. J. Fleure. 

Vice-Presidents. — Prof. C. B. Fawcett ; Donald Gray ; Rt. Hon. Sir Halford 

J. Mackinder, P.C. ; Brig. H. S. L. Winterbotham, C.M.G. 
Recorder. — R. H. Kinvig. 
Secretaries.- — H. King ; Prof. A. G. Ogilvie. 
Local Secretary. — Dr. H. D. Anthony. 



President. — Prof. R. B. Forrester. 

Vice-Presidents. — ^Prof. G. C. Allen ; Jenkin Jones ; Prof. J. H. Jones ; 

Noel Terry. 
Recorder. — Dr. K. G. Fenelon. 
Secretaries. — Dr. J. A. Bowie ; P. Ford. 
Local Secretary. — A. A. Harrower. 

A Department of Industrial Co-operation — Chairman, Dr. J. A. Bowie ; Secretary, 
R. J. Mackay — arranged a special programme in connection with this and 
other Sections. 


President.— -Froi. Miles Walker, F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents. — Lt.-Col. E. Kitson Clark ; Dr. J. Miller ; W. B. Wood- 
Recorder. — J. S. Wilson. 

Secretaries. — Dr. S. J. Davies ; J. E. Montgomrey. 
Local Secretary. — H. R. Lupton. 


President. — Dr. D. Randall-MacIver. 

Vice-Presidents. — Dr. Axel Boethius ; L. H. Dudley Buxton ; Capt. T. A. 

Joyce ; I. A. Richmond ; Prof. V. Suk. 
Recorder. — Miss R. M. Fleming. 

Secretaries. — Dr. S. Bryan Adams ; V. E. Nash-Williams. 
Local Secretary. — Rev. A. E. Baker. 


(There were no meetings of Section I (Physiology) at York in view of the 
XlVth International Physiological Congress at Rome.) 


President. — Prof. Beatrice Edgell. 

Vice-Presidents. — Dr. W. Brown ; Dr. S. Dawson ; Prof. J. Drever ; Prof. W. 
McDouGALL, F.R.S. ; Dr. C. S. Myers, C.B.E., F.R.S. ; Prof. C. W. Valen- 
tine ; Prof. R. H. Wheeler. 

Recorder. — Dr. Mary Collins. 

Secretary. — R. J. Bartlett. 

Local Secretary. — Dr. V. Moorrees. 


President. — Prof. J. H. Priestley. 

Vice-Presidents. — Prof. T. G. Hill ; T. B. Ponsonby. 

Recorder. — Prof. H. S. Holden. 

Secretaries. — Dr. B. Barnes ; Dr. E. V. Laing ; Miss L. I. Scott. 

Local Secretary. — A. W. Ping. 



President. — W. Mayhowe Heller. 

Vice-Presidents. — Sir J. B. Baillie, O.B.E. ; J. H. Hallam ; Dr. A. W. Pickard- 

Cambridge ; His Grace the Lord Archbishop of York. 
Recorder. — G. D. Dunkerley. 
Secretaries. — H. E. M. Icely ; E. R. Thomas. 
Local Secretary. — J. L. Brockbank. 


President. — Prof. R. G. White. 

Vice-Presidents. — Prof. N. M. Comber ; T. S. Dymond ; Major F. H. Fawkes 

Sir E. John Russell, O.B.E. , F.R.S. ; Prof. R. S. Seton. 
Recorder. — Dr. E. M. Crowther. 
Secretary. — W. Godden. 
Local Secretary. — J. Strachan. 



President.— l^t.-Col. Sir David Prain, CLE., C.M.G., F.R.S. 
Secretary. — Dr. C. Tierney. 




Date of Meeting 




Sept. 27, 
June 19 
June 25 
Sept. 8 . 
Aug. 10 . 
Aug. 22 . 
Sept. II. 
Aug. 10 . 
Aug. 26. 
Sept. 17 
July 20 . 
June 23 . 
Aug. 17 . 
Sept. 26. 
June 19 
Sept. 10. 
June 23 
Aug. 9 . 
Sept. 12. 
July 21 . 
July 2 . 
Sept. I . 
Sept. 3 . 
Sept. 20. 
Sept. 12. 
Aug. 6 . 
Aug. 25 . 
Sept. 22. 
Sept. 14. 
June 27 
Sept. 4 . 
Oct. I . 
Aug. 26 . 
Sept. 13. 
Sept. 6 . 
Aug. 22 . 
Sept. 4 . 
Aug. 19. 
Aug. 18. 
Sept. 14. 
Aug. 2 . 
Aug. 14. 
Sept. 17. 
Aug. 19. 
Aug. 25. 
Sept. 6 . 
Aug. 15. 
Aug. 14. 
Aug. 20 . 
Aug. 25 . 
Aug. 31 . 
Aug. 23. 
Sept. 19. 
Aug. 27. 
Sept. 9 . 
Sept. I . 
Aug. 31 , 
Sept. 5 . 
Sept. II. 
Sept. 3 . 
Aug. 19. 
Aug. 3 . 
Sept. 13 
Aug. 8 . 
Sept. II. 
Sept. 16. 
Aug. 18. 
Sept. 7 . 
Sept. 13. 

Where held 







































































Viscount Milton, D.C.L., F.R.S 

The Rev. W. Buckland, F.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., F.R.S. 
The Marquis of Lansdowne, F.R.S. ... 

The Earl of Burlington, F.R.S 

The Duke of Northumberiand, F.R.S. 
The Rev. W. Vernon Harcourt, F.R.S. 
The Marquis of Breadalbane, F.R.S. 

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

The Lord Francis Egerton, F.G.S 

The Eari of Rosse, F.R.S 

The Rev. G. Peacock, D.D., F.R.S. ... 
Sir John F. W. Herschel, Bart., F.R.S. 
Sir Roderick I. Murchison, Bart., F.R.S. 
Sir Robert H. Inglis, Bart., F.R.S. ... 
The Marquis of Northampton , Pres.R.S. 
The Rev. T. R. Robinson, D.D., F.R.S. 

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

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

Lieut. -General Sabine, F.R.S 

WUham Hopkins, F.R.S 

The Eari of Harrowby, F.R.S 

The Duke of Argyll, F.R.S 

Prof. C. G. B. Daubeney, M.D., F.R.S. . 

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

Richard Owen, m:D., D.C.L., F.R.S. 

H.R.H. The Prince Consort 

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

William Fairbaim, LL.D., F.R.S 

The Rev. Professor Willis, M.A., F.R.S. 
Su: William G. Armstrong, C.B. , F.R.S. 
Sir Charles Lyell, Bart., M.A., F.R.S. 
Prof. J. Phillips, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S. 

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

The DukeofBuccIeuch, K. C.B. , F.R.S. 

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

Prof. G. G. Stokes, D.C.L., F.R.S. ... 
Prof. T. H. Huxley, LL.D., F.R.S. ... 
Prof. Sir W. Thomson, LL.D., F.R.S. . 

Dr. W. B. Carpenter, F.R.S 

Prof. A. W. Williamson, F.R.S 

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

Sir John Hawkshaw, F.R.S 

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

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

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

Prof. G. J. Allman, 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.C.L., F.R.S 

Prof. Lord Rayleigh, F.R.S 

Sir Lyon Playfair, K.C.B., F.R.S. ... 
Sir J. W. Dawson, C.M.G., F.R.S. ... 

Sir H. E. Roscoe, D.C.L., F.R.S 

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

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

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

Dr. W. Huggins, F.R.S 

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

Prof. J. S. Burden Sanderson, F.R.S. 
The Marquisof Salisbury, K.G., F.R.S. 
Sir Douglas Galton, K.C.B., F.R.S. ... 
Sir Joseph Lister, Bart., Pres. R.S. ... 

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

Sir W. Crookes, F.R.S 

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

Old Life 

New Life 

























































































































• Ladies were not admitted by purchased tickets until 1843. f Ticketsof Admission to Sections only. 

[Continued on p. xiv. 












Sums paid 
on account 
of Grants 




for Scientific 































— ■ 































922 12 6 









932 2 2 








1595 II 








1546 16 4 




- — 





1235 10 II 








■ — 

1449 17 8 








1565 10 2 









981 12 8 









831 9 9 









685 16 









208 5 4 









275 I 8 









159 19 6 









345 18 









391 9 7 







1 108 


304 6 7 


















380 19 7 









480 16 4 









734 13 9 









507 15 4 









618 18 2 









684 11 I 








I 604 

766 19 6 









IIII 5 10 









1293 16 6 









1608 3 10 









1289 15 8 









1591 7 10 









1750 13 4 









1739 4 






















1 103 














1472 2 6 



























1151 16 


















1092 4 2 









1128 9 7 









725 16 6 









1080 II II 









731 7 7 









476 8 I 









1126 I II 









1083 3 3 









1173 4 


















995 6 









1186 18 









1511 5 









1417 II 









789 16 8 









1029 10 









864 10 









907 15 6 









583 15 6 









977 15 5 









I 104 6 I 









1059 10 8 


















1430 14 2 


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

b [Continued on p. xv. 



Table of 

Date of Meeting 


Sept. 5 ... 
Sept. II... 
Sept. 10... 
Sept. 9 ... 
Aug. 17... 
Aug. 15... 
Aug. 1 ... 
July 31 ... 
Sept. 2 ... 
Aug. 25... 
Au^. 31... 
Aug. 30... 
Sept. 4 ... 
Sept. 10... 
Sept. 7 ... 
Sept. 5 ... 

Sept. 9 ... 

1920, Aug. 24 

1921, Sept. 7 

1922, Sept. 6 

1923, Sept. 12 

1924, Aug. 6 

1925, Aug. 26 

1926, Aug. 4 . 

1927, Aug. 31 

1928, Sept. 5 

1929, July 22 

1930, Sept. 3 

1931, Sept. 23 

1932, Aug. 31 

Where held 





Carn bridge 

South Africa 











Newcastle-on-1 yne 

(No Meeting) 

(No Meeting) 



Edinburgh . . . 

Liverpool . . . 





South Africa 




Presidents ' 

Sir William Turner, D.C.L., F.R.S. .. 
Prof. A. W. Rucker, D.Sc, Sec. R.S. 

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

Sir Norman Lockver, 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. Rav Lankester, LL.D., F.R.S. 

Sir David Gill, K.C.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.S 

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 

[•Sir Arthur Evans, F.R.S 

Hon. Sir C. Parsons, K.C.B., F.R.S. .. 

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

Sir T. E. Thorpe, C.B., F.R.S 

SirC. S. Sherrington, G.B.E., Pres. R.S 

Sir Ernest Rutherford, F.R.S 

Sir David Bruce, K.C.B., F.R.S 

Prof. Horace Lamb, F.R.S 

H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, K.G. 


Sir Arthur Keith, F.R.S 

Sir William Bragg, K.B.E. 
Sir Thomas Holland, 

K.C.I.E., F.R.S 

Prof. F. O. Bower, F.R.S 

Gen. the Rt. Hon. J. C. Smuts, P.C. 

/" TT p R Q 

Sir AlfredEwingV'Klc.B.'.'F.R.'s."!'.!! 

F.R.S. .. 

Old Life 

New Life 































































' Including 848 Members of the South African Association. 

^ Including 137 Members of the American Association. 

' Special arrangements were made for Members and Associates joining locally in Australia, see 
Report, 1914, p. 686. The numbers include 80 Members who joined in oider to attend the Meeting of 
L'Association Franjaise at Le Havre. 

' Including Students' Tickets, los. 

' Including Exhibitioners granted tickets without charge. 



Annual Meetings — (continued). 



















































Annual Members 































































mentary ' 
















1 1 76 


4 792 10 
1724 5 

1272 10 

2599 15 o 
1699 5 o 

2735 15 o 

3165 19 o'" 

1630 5 o 

3542 o o 

2414 5 o 

3072 10 o 

1477 15 o 

2481 15 o 

Sums paid 

on account 

of Grants 


for Scientific 


£1072 10 


920 9 





845 13 



887 18 



928 2 






757 12 



1157 18 



1014 9 



963 17 




845 7 



978 17 



1861 16 



1569 2 



9S5 18 



677 17 



326 13 





I25I 13 



51.8 I 






777 i8 



1197 5 





917 I 



761 10 


1259 10 


1838 2 



683 5 



1146 7 



"83 13 



• Including grants from the Caird Fund in this and subsequent years. 
' Includmg Foreign Guests, Exhibitioners and others 

scien'tmc pu^^slsrbe^r^^attaTned"""'- ^"'^'^' "^^ ^'' ^- ^'>^=°"=' ^-•'•^'^ 6-"*^ - --""' °' 
to '1926."''"'''' ^"°" ''°" "'^ ^^'^^ '^"' '°' '•'''^'■'='' '" radioactivity in this and subsequent years 
on^ex^chang"!^''""' ^^'^ ^ ^^"^''^ ""''^ ^5 for Meeting only and others pro rata ; there was some gain 
," Including 450 Members of the South African Association. 

Including 413 tickets for certain meetings, issued at 5s. to London County Council school-teachers. 


On Wednesday, August 31, at 8.30 p.m. the Inaugural General Meeting 
was held in the Exhibition Hall, when the Rt. Hon. the Lord Mayor of 
York (Alderman R. H. Vernon Wragge) welcomed the Association to 
York, and the President of the Association, Sir Alfred Ewing, K.C.B., 
F.R.S., delivered an Address (for which see p. i), entitled An Engineer's 

On Friday, September 2, in the Co-operative Hall, at 8 p.m., Sir Arthur 
W. Hill, K.C.M.G., F.R.S., delivered an Evening Discourse on Plant 
Products of the Empire in relation to Human Needs (for an abstract of 
which see p. 432). 

On Monday, September 5, in the Co-operative Hall, at 5.30 p.m., 
Mr. H. E. Wimperis, C.B.E., delivered a Public Lecture on Speed in 

On Tuesday, September 6, in the Co-operative Hall, at 8 p.m., Mr. C. C. 
Paterson, O.B.E., delivered an Evening Discourse, with demonstrations, 
on The Uses of Photoelectric Cells (for an abstract of which see p. 435). 


On Thursday, September i, at 8.30 p.m., the Lord Mayor and the 
Sheriff (Mr. Arnold S. Rowntree) held a Reception in the Exhibition 

On Monday, September 5, the Directors of Messrs. Rowntree & Co., 
Ltd., received Members at a garden-party and tour of the Cocoa Works. 

Numerous other works in the city and neighbourhood were visited. 

Among institutions which offered facilities to Members, the Yorkshire 
Philosophical Society (the mother-society of the Association) gave the 
free use of the Yorkshire Museum and Museum Gardens to Members 
during the day-time. In the evenings the grounds and buildings were 
flood-lighted by gas. 

A special service was held in the Minster on Sunday morning, 
September 4, when Officers and other Members accompanied the Lord 
Mayor, the Sheriff and the City Council in state from the Guildhall. 

The palace at Bishopthorpe was open to Members by kind permission 
of His Grace the Lord Archbishop of York. 

On Saturday, September 3, general excursions took place to Ripon, 
Fountains Abbey, and Aldborough ; Knaresborough, Harrogate, and 
Nidderdale ; Wensleydale ; Scarborough and Whitby ; Coxwold, 
Byland Abbey, Helmsley, and Rievaulx Abbey ; Castle Howard and 
Kirkham Abbey ; and Members were officially received at many of 


these points. Among other general excursions, many Members took 
advantage of the extension of the period of flood-Hghting Fountains 
Abbey by electric light until Sunday, September 4, which was kindly 
arranged for their benefit. The numerous sectional excursions are 
mentioned among the Sectional Transactions in later pages. 

At the final meeting of the General Committee, on Tuesday, 
September 6, it was resolved ' That the General Committee do thank the 
City of York for its hospitable reception of the Association.' 

On Wednesday, September 7, the President and General Secretaries 
waited upon the Lord Mayor of York at the Mansion House, in order to 
take formal leave of him and other local officers for the Meeting. 



I. — The Council has had to deplore the loss by death of the following 
office-bearers and supporters : — 

Prof. A. Barr 

George Barrow 

Dr. W. Briggs 

Major-Gen. Sir David Bruce {ex- 

Dr. G. Claridge Druce 

Dr. H. T. Ferrar 

Dr. J. G. Garson {ex-Assistant- 
General Secretary) 

Prof. Sir Patrick Geddes 

Dr. J. Graham 

Prof. J. W. Gregory 

Dr. E. H. Griffiths {ex-General 

Dr. Victoria Hazlitt 
Col. Sir Duncan Johnston 
Prof. A. W. Kirkaldy {hon. Auditor) 
Dr. J. af Klercker 
Prof. Carveth Read 
Sir Harry Reichel 
Sir William Somerville 
Sir Thomas Stanton 
Sir Richard Threlfall 
Sir Alfred Yarrow (benefactor and 

honorary member) 

The Association was represented at the memorial service for Sir David 
Bruce by Prof. P. G. H. Boswell, General Secretary ; at that for Sir Alfred 
Yarrow by Sir Alfred Ewing, President, and Prof. J. L. Myres, General 
Secretary ; at the funeral of Dr. E. H. Griffiths by Sir Alfred Ewing, and at 
that of Dr. J. G. Garson by Prof. W. W. Watts. 

Prof. F. O. Bower represented the Association at the funeral of the 
Very Rev. Lionel Ford, Dean of York. 


II. — Representatives of the Association have been appointed as 
follows : — 

Wild Plants Preservation Board, Council 
for the Preservation of Rural England 

York Medical Society, Centenary . 

National Academy of Sciences, Washing- 
ton : One hundredth anniversary of 
electrical discoveries of Joseph Henry 

Royal Society of Canada : Fiftieth Anni- 
versary ...... 

British Medical Association : Centenary 

Prof. E. J. Salisbury 
Prof. F. O. Bower 

Prof. W. F. G. Swann 

Prof. A. B. Macallum 
Sir Charles Sherrington 


III. — The revision of Statute VI, i, made by the General Committee 
at the Centenary Meeting, under which the period of the presidency of 
the Association should coincide with the calendar year, duly received the 
approval of H.M. Privy Council, as provided in Article lo of the Charter 
of the Association. Sir Alfred Ewing therefore assumed the presidency 
as from January i, 1932. 

IV. — At the Centenary Meeting, the General Committee expressed the 
feeling that it was undesirable that the Council's nomination to the 
presidency of the Association should be published. The Council there- 
fore resolved that the nomination should not be communicated to the 


press, and that it should not be announced in the present report, but 
should be made verbally to the General Committee on the first day of the 
Annual Meeting. This procedure is a reversion to the practice of the 
Association in its earlier years. 

Resolutions from the Centenary Meeting. 

V. — Resolutions dealing with the Council's nomination to the 
presidency of the Association, and to expenditure in connection with 
the annual meetings, are reported upon elsewhere in this report. 

Resolutions referred by the General Committee to the Council for 
consideration, and, if desirable, for action were dealt with as follows. 
The resolutions will be found in the Report for 1931, p. lix. 

(a) A resolution from Section D (Zoology) dealing with the pro- 
tection of the gorilla in Uganda, was forwarded to the Colonial Office 
as requested. 

(b) The Council received assurance that effect would be given to 
recommendations from Section H (Anthropology) relating to the pro- 
gramme of the International Congress for Prehistoric and Protohistoric 
Sciences, 1932. 

(c) The Council adopted a resolution from Section H (Anthropology) 
relating to the disposal of objects from the Cresswell Caves, Derbyshire. 

(d) The Council, after careful consideration, decided to take no 
action upon a resolution from the Conference of Delegates of Corre- 
sponding Societies, recommending the use of durable paper for scientific 

VI. — A recommendation from Section E (Geography), advocating the 
publication of population maps in connection with the census of 1931, 
was forwarded immediately, by direction of the General Committee itself, 
to the Registrars-General for England and Wales and for Scotland ; but 
they regretted that they could not advocate the preparation of such maps 
at the present time. 

VII. — The Council adopted a recommendation from the Organising 
Committee of Section I (Physiology), following upon a resolution by the 
Sectional Committee at the Centenary Meeting, that it was not advisable 
to hold an independent meeting of Section I at York this year, in view of 
the Fourteenth International Physiological Congress which is to take place 
simultaneously at Rome. 

Dow^N House. 

VIII. — The following report for the year 1931-32 has been received 
from the Down House Committee : — ■ 

The Committee desire to record their gratification at the conferment 
of the honour of knighthood upon Sir Buckston Browne. 

The number of visitors to Down House during the year ending June 6, 
1932, has been 7,638, compared with 5,210 in the previous year. During 
the week of the Centenary Meeting of the Association, Sept. 23-30, 1931, 
there were 660 visitors. Three special excursions were arranged for 
members, a general excursion on Friday, Sept. 25, when the Hon. Curator, 
Mr. Buckston Browne, was present to receive the party ; a visit for the 
Delegates of Corresponding Societies on Monday, Sept. 28, and a visit 
for Section K (Botany) on Tuesday, Sept. 29. On Wednesday, Sept. 30, 



the President of the Association (General the Rt. Hon. J. C. Smuts) and 
the Hon. Curator entertained a distinguished company to tea at the house. 

The Committee are glad to have in custody at Down House the valuable 
papers relating to early meetings of the Association, collected by John 
Phillips and presented by Professor W. J. Sollas, whose gift the Couiicil 
has already gratefully acknowledged. They form an important addition 
to the historical records of the Association, for which Down House now 
provides a repository. The presidential banners of the Association's first 
century also are now deposited there. 

A private fire hydrant has been installed in such position as to protect 
the house and adjacent buildings. 

The exemption of the public rooms and the custodians' apartments 
from rates was secured upon a second appeal to the assessment committee 
for Bromley district, after a structural alteration had been carried out 
with the view of meeting the requirement of a ' complete severance ' 
between the resident's quarters (which are rated) and the rest of the house. 
This question has involved the Association in considerable legal and other 
expenses ; but the saving in rates amounts, under existing conditions, to 
nearly £40 per annum. 

The following financial statement shows (a) receipts on account of Down 
House, and current expenditure (running costs) for the financial years 
ending June 30, 193 1 and 1933 ; (h) ' capital ' or non-recurrent expenditure 
by the Association since its acquisition of the property in 1929. 


By Dividends on endowment fund 
,, Income tax recovered 
,, Rents ..... 
,, Donations .... 
,, Sale of Postcards and Catalogues 

,, Balance, being excess of expenditure (run- 
ning costs) as below, over receipts. 


£ s. d. 

770 14 10 

203 II I 

142 3 4 

I on 

10 10 I 

L s. d. 

741 4 S 

223 IS 

137 o 

9 19 

33 16 

1,128 o 3 1,145 IS 3 
"S 5 5 150 13 2 

£1,243 5 8 1,296 8 s 

Expenditure (runnins costs). 1931 

£ s. d 

To Wages and National Insurance 
Rates, Land Tax, Insurances . 
Coal, coke, etc 

Plants (including 


Lighting and Drainage 

petrol and oil) . 
Repairs and Renewals 
Garden materials . 
Household requisites 
Transport and Carriage 

Postcards and Catalogues (printing) 
Postages, Telephone, Stationery, etc. 

















£ s. d. 

840 10 II 
72 4 o 

125 16 2 
14 10 6 

50 12 
41 I 




33 10 o 

44 6 II 

5 19 2 

£1,243 5 8 1,296 8 5 




























* Capital ' Expenditure, 1929-32. 

Compensation to outgoing tenant 
Redemption of Tithe ..... 
Purchase of Land ..... 
Renovation of house, cottages, walls, fencing, etc. 
Renovation of grounds (gravelling, grass, etc.) 
House equipment ..... 
Garden equipment ..... 
Legal charges (rating appeals, valuations, etc.) 
Transport of library ..... 
Opening Ceremony (June 7, 1929) 
Cost of Catalogues in stock, June 30, 1932 

£3.236 5 8 
Note. — The cost of catalogues will, in course of time, be covered by sales. 

The above phrase ' capital expenditure ' is used, for want of a better, to 
cover charges which have fallen upon the Association apart from ordinary 
running costs. They include numerous items of restoration, renovation, 
and equipment, legal charges, etc., as the Council are already aware. The 
figure does not include the second mortgage of £700 granted to the outgoing 
tenant in 1929, which is classified as an asset, not with the Down House 
Fund, but among the general funds of the Association. 

Those works of restoration, etc., which have been, so to say, visible 
liabilities since the acquisition of the property, have been materially ex- 
pedited during the Secretary's leave of absence from office duties during the 
current year. They, and their cost, would otherwise have been spread 
over a longer period. So far as the Secretary is able to judge, they are now 
within sight of completion. Any subsequent items of restoration and 
renovation ought, on this view, to fall under the heading of ordinary wear 
and tear. 

Importation of Scientific Specimens and Apparatus. 

IX. — As the result of a report by the Association of British Zoologists, 
the Council, in February 1931, appointed a committee to consider action 
with a view to the amelioration of the Customs Regulations affecting the 
importation of scientific specimens and apparatus. Following upon 
discussion between officers of the Association and the Custom House 
authorities, the latter have most kindly supplied the Association with a 
memorandum on the reliefs from Customs duties on scientific instruments 
and cinematograph films, and from the import prohibitions on plumage 
likely to be of use to scientific workers, together with a note on procedure 
in respect of the importation of scientific specimens preserved in spirit. 

The memorandum on scientific instruments and cinematograph films 
was supplied confidentially to enable the Association to advise bona fide 
scientific workers, but not for general publication, since some of the 
relaxations are extra-statutory and liable to modification or withdrawal as 
the interests of the Revenue may demand. 

The note on the importation of scientific specimens in spirit is appended 


xxii REPORT OF THE COUNCIL, 1931-32 

' The procedure which will apply in future is as follows : — 

' It will be necessary that the person by whom the specimens are im- 
ported into this country (or the person or institution to whom they are 
addressed, in the case of specimens despatched by a consignor abroad) 
should be formally authorised to receive spirits free of duty for use in an 
art or manufacture, under the provisions of the Finance Act, 1902, sect. 8. 
Where, however, the importer or consignee does not already hold such 
an authoritv, the Collector of Customs and Excise at the port of importation 
will grant it, subject to the conditions in the next paragraph. 

' If the specimens are imported as ship's cargo, the necessary Customs 
entrv must describe them as specimens preserved in spirits, with a sufficient 
description of their nature and the approximate quantity of spirits, and 
must show the name and address of the importer or consignee. With the 
entry must be produced letters or other documents sufficiently establishing 
the status of the importer or consignee and the purposes for which the 
specimens are imported. The Collector of Customs and Excise will be at 
liberty to request further information, if he considers it necessary. Where 
specimens are imported in personal baggage, similar information will be 
asked for. 

' If these requirements are satisfactorily complied with, the necessary 
authority will be granted forthwith and the specimens admitted immediately 
free of any charge of spirit duty. 

' It is not necessary that scientists proceeding on expeditions abroad 
should take any action before leaving this country. It is, however, advisable, 
with a view to avoiding delay, that scientists returning with specimens 
should have the letters or other documents required to establish the facts 
readily available, and, in the case of specimens which are being received 
from senders abroad, that the forwarding agent who is entrusted with the 
work of clearing the goods should be supplied with the necessary information 
and letters, etc., in good time.' 

Finance. 1 

X.— The Council have received reports from the General Treasurer 
throughout the year. His accounts have been audited and are presented 
to the General Committee. 

XI. — As shown in the accounts, the Association has been compelled 
to draw upon its capital in order to meet a deficit upon the working of the 
Centenary Meeting. In this connection, however, it should be mentioned 
that the legacy of ^^2,000 under the will of the late Sir Charles Parsons 
has not yet been received. These considerations, together with the 
difficulties of the present general financial situation, have led the Council 
to review the whole financial position of the Association, and they have 
received from the General Treasurer full memoranda upon receipts and 
expenditure on the basis of the past ten years, and upon future policy. 
The following are extracts from his statement of policy, in so far as it 
deals with grants for research, the figures for the Research Fund and 
Contingency Fund being those adopted by the Council as stated below : 

^ The General Committee adopted this portion of the report with the proviso 
that the recommendation as to quasi-permanent endo^^■ment or maintenance 
should not be held to preclude grants to institutions at which successive re- 
searches are to be carried on under research committees of the Association. 

REPORT OF THE COUNCIL, 1931-32 xxiii 

The weakness of the Association's finance lies in the basis of its grants to 
research, taken together with the fluctuating financial character of its 
meetings. The allocations to research should not be granted on a year-to- 
year consideration of available balances, because those balances do not 
themselves result from a period of adequate length to reflect real availability. 
Allocations on the principle of real availability should be based upon a 
reasonable cycle of the Association's normal activities and expenses of 

In my judgment, therefore, policy should be shaped upon a provisional 
five-year budget as the minimum period. This leads me to the suggestion 
that for the period of the next five years we should create two definite 
charges on the expenditure side, viz., £400 to the Research Fund (in 
addition, that is, to the Caird Fund) and £500 to Contingency Fund. . . . 
Expenditure on research [from general funds] should be definitely con- 
trolled by the General Committee on a recommendation from the Council 
in its Annual Report, and might be more or less than that amount in any 
particular year. Council might conveniently add to its recommendation 
a statement of the sum which it is prepared to allocate from the Caird Fund. 
... It should be a matter for the Council to lay down whether the true 
function of the Association is not rather the starting, launching or promotion 
of particular pieces of research, than the quasi-permanent endowment or 
maintenance of them. In some respects its past policy has fallen between 
two stools ; it has not given those advantages which a really assured 
permanence of funds may confer but it has allowed a perpetuating system 
of old claims to take the bloom off its opportunity for substantial aid to 
pioneer work. 

The Contingency Fund would be definitely regarded as an insurance 
against small, or very unprofitable meetings. . . . The adoption of a policy 
of budgeting ahead for a period of years, and not allowing each year's 
balances to be fortuitously linked up with the research work, is the essential 
feature of reform. 

The Council have adopted, and recommend to the General Committee, 
the above proposal that for the next five years not more than ;{^400 should 
be spent annually from general funds on grants for research, and that an 
annual sum of ;^500 should be placed to a contingency fund. 

The Council are of opinion that the true function of the Association, in 
making grants to research committees, is the initiation of particular pieces 
of research rather than their quasi-permanent endowment. The Council 
recall that this view is implicit in the resolution of the General Committee, 
under which grants from general funds in aid of research were first 
established. They desire, however, to elicit the views of Sectional 
Committees on this point, and suggest that these should be reported by 
the sectional representatives to the Committee of Recommendations at 
the York Meeting. 

The Council are impressed with the fact that at each annual meeting 
certain grants are applied for and made on the chance that they may be 
wanted during the ensuing year. The Council feel that money adjudged 
at the Annual Meeting to be available from general funds for grants should 
be made only for purposes for which it is known that money will be 
needed during the ensuing year. The Council, therefore, propose a new 
class of contingent recommendations to be addressed to themselves as 
administering the Caird Fund. This practice should be followed in the 

xxiv REPORT OF THE COUNCIL, 1931-32 

case of any application made at the Annual Meeting for a grant which may, 
but will not certainly, be required during the ensuing year. The Council, 
being in session throughout the year, consider that they can deal with such 
applications with more precision than is possible at the Annual Meeting. 

In order that the Committee of Recommendations, in considering 
applications, may be in full possession of the necessary facts, especially in 
respect of the procedure outlined above, the General Officers have drafted 
and will issue more detailed forms of application to the Committee, and the 
Council request the co-operation of the Sectional Officers in completing 

It follows from the above expression of the Council's opinion and 
intentions, that they do not consider that recurrent grants should have any 
prior claim on the Caird Fund over other grants. 

XII. — The stock held on account of the Bramwell Trust, for an 
honorarium to be paid to an appointed speaker at the Centenary Meeting 
on the prime movers of 1931, has been transferred to Sir Alfred Ewing, 
whose presidential address to Section G (Engineering) was also the 
lecture under the trust. This trust has now, therefore, been discharged. 

XIII. — At the Centenary Meeting, the General Committee requested 
the General Officers to report to the Council upon the respective expendi- 
ture of the Association and of local committees in connection with the 
annual meetings, with the object of reducing the total cost of the meetings, 
and of redistributing liabilities hitherto undertaken by the local com- 
mittees. The Council received and adopted the General Secretaries' 
Report, in which it was recommended to effect economies by dispensing 
with the presidential banner and elaborate enamelled badges of member- 
ship, by incorporating the local programme with the Association's own 
time-table, and by reducing the bulk of the local handbook, at the same 
time standardising its format and making the material suitable for inclusion 
in the Annual Report. 


XIV. — As a natural corollary to questions of publication arising upon 
the financial matters dealt with in the preceding section of this report, 
the Council have investigated the whole field of the Association's publica- 
tions, and have received the report of a Committee thereon. As a result, 
it is hoped to effect improvements in printing, a more adequate distribu- 
tion of the Annual Report and other publications, and some economy 
in cost. 

General Officers and Staff, Council and Committees. 

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

General Treasurer, Sir Josiah Stamp. 

General Secretaries, Prof. P. G. H. Boswell, Prof. F. J. M. Stratton. 

The Council received last year from Prof. J. L. Myres an intimation 
that if then re-appointed as General Secretary, he would not offer himself 
this year for re-nomination. The Council have now placed upon record 


their deep sense of gratitude to Prof. Myres for his services to the 
Association as General Secretary during the years 1919-1932. 

XVI. — Assistant Secretaryship. — The Council have established the post 
of Assistant Secretary, held by Mr. H. Wooldridge on probation since 
1930, and have confirmed Mr. Wooldridge in the appointment. 

XVII. — Council. — The retiring Ordinary Members of the Council 
are Sir Richard Gregory, Prof. T. E. Gregory, Mr. C. G. T. Morison, 
Prof. A. O. Rankine, and Dr. A. C. Haddon and Dr. H. S. Hele-Shaw 
by resignation. 

The Council have nominated as new members Sir Henry Dale, 
Prof. R. B. Forrester, Dr. H. S. Harrison, and Sir John Russell, 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 : — 

Dr. F. A. Bather Col. Sir H. G. Lvons 

Sir Henry Dale Sir P. Chalmers Mitchell 

Prof. J. Drever Prof. E. B. Poulton 

Prof. R. B. Forrester Dr. C. Tate Regan 

Sir Henry Fowler Sir John Russell 

Prof. W. T. Gordon Prof. A. C. Seward 
Prof. Dame Helen Gwynne-Vaughan Dr. N. V. Sidgwick 

Sir Daniel Hall Dr. G. C. Simpson 

Dr. H. S.Harrison Prof. J. F. Thorpe 

Sir James Henderson H. T. Tizard 

A. R. Hinks Prof. A. M. Tyndall 
Dr. C. W. Kimmins 

XVIII. — -General Committee. — The following have been admitted as 
members of the General Committee : Dr. S. G. Barker, Dr. P. H. Buxton, 
Dr. G. S. Carter, Dr. R. Gurney, Mr. E. Morton, Mr. T. H. Reade, 
Dr. W. K. Spencer, Dr. J. Stephenson. 

XIX. — Corresponding Societies Committee. — The Corresponding So- 
cieties Committee has been nominated as follows : The President of the 
Association {Chairman ex-officio), Mr. T. Sheppard {Vice-Chairman), 
Dr. C. Tierney {Secretary), the General Treasurer, the General Secre- 
taries, Mr. C. O. Bartrum, Dr. F. A. Bather, Sir Richard Gregory, 
Mr. J. V. Pearman, Sir David Prain, Sir John Russell, Prof. W. M. 

Rates of Subscription. 

XX. — -The Council have adopted the following report of a Committee 
on rates of membership subscription, the price of the Annual Report, 
etc., and recommend the proposals and consequent changes in the Statutes 
to the General Committee. 

The Committee appointed by the Council to consider the scale of 
subscriptions to the Association, and to recommend amendments thereto if 
any appear desirable, report as follows. 

The Committee recommend no change from the present subscriptions of 
£1 1 05. for attendance at the Meeting and receipt of the Report, of £1 5s. 
for transferable tickets (Meeting only), and of 10s. for student membership 
(Meeting only). 

xxvi REPORT OF THE COUNCIL, 1931-32 

They recommend that the present life composition of £15 be reduced to 
£10 los. This recommendation is based upon the fact that, before 1919, 
when the life composition was £10, 23 new life members were enrolled 
annually on an average over 10 years ; after 191 9, when the life composition 
was raised to £15, this average number fell to 8-3. 

A majority of the Committee recommend that the subscription of £1, 
entitling to attendance at the Meeting only, be raised to £1 15. This 
recommendation is made with a view to balancing any reduction of receipts 
which might result from giving effect to other recommendations of the 
Committee. The class of members paying the £1 subscription is the 
largest ; on average figures the proposed increase would yield an addition of 
£70-80 annually, and it is believed that it would not cause any diminution in 
the number of members. 

The Committee consider that the Annual Report is too highly priced, and 
recommend that the prices should be as follows : 

Published price, 155. instead of £1 55. 

Library subscription, los., if paid regularly, instead of 12s. 6d. now 
charged to approved libraries. 

They further recommend that back numbers of the Report should be 
offered at 10s., and back numbers of the Advancement of Science at 35. bd., 
and that this offer should be made known among members and others 
whose names are on the books of the Association. 

Finally, they recommend that it should be similarly made known that on 
regular payment of los. on a banker's order, the Report will be supplied 
(as well as papers relating to forthcoming meetings). 

The Committee make these recommendations concerning the Report 
with a view to ensuring its wider distribution, and giving effect to previous 
recommendations of the Publications Committee. Further, they think that 
the principle of the banker's order, put forward in the final recommendation, 
should assist in mitigating ' the insecurity inherent in the Association's 
finances,' which, as shown in a memorandum laid before them, is ' connected 
primarily ' with the fluctuating number of subscriptions for annual 

Dates of Financial Year. 

XXI. — The Council have received from the Hon. Auditors a reasoned 
proposal that the financial year of the Association should run from April i 
to March 31, instead of from July i to June 30, and they recommend this 
change to the General Committee, together with a consequent change 
in the Statutes. 



The expenses of the Centenary Meeting (i 931), so far as 
they can be distinguished, are set out separately in the 
following accounts, but ordinary items of expenditure, 
such as stationery, postages, and printing, were also 
necessarily increased beyond the normal. It should 
be remembered that there was no ' local fund,' as 
usually there is to meet costs of meeting-rooms, 
entertainment, etc., and the Centenary Fund initiated 
by the Association itself, primarily in order to cover 
the costs of the Meeting, did not do so. It was stated 
in last year's Report that the general financial situation 
did not admit of pressing the appeal for the Centenary 
Fund as strongly as it might have been pressed in 
favourable circumstances. It has therefore been 
necessary to draw upon the Yarrow Fund, as stated in 
the accounts. The Association's finances are further 
dealt with in the Report of the Council to the General 
Committee, paragraphs X-XIII. 

J. C. Stamp, 

General Treasurer. 



Balance Sheet, 

June 30, 

£ s. d. 

io,g42 ig I 

gsSz 16 3 

399 I 1 

84 4 7 

10,000 o o 

,yoy o 

1,952 2 2 

1S2 18 10 

2,go4 14 g 

44,755 16 9 


To General Fund — £ s. d. 

As at July i, 1931 
As per contra ......... 

(Subject to depreciation in value of Investments) 

„ Caird Fund — 

As at July i, 1931 
As per contra ........ 

(Subject to depreciation in value of Investments) 

„ Caird Fund Revenue Account — 

Balance at July i, 1931 ....... 399 i i 

Less Excess of Expenditure over Income for the year as 

per contra ........ 207 i i 

,, Sir F. Bramwell's Gift — 

For inquiry into Prime Movers, 1931 . . . . 86 6 2 

Less Transferred to Sir J. Alfred Ewing under terms of the 

Gift 86 6 2 

,, Sir Charles Parsons' Gift — 

As per contra ......... 

,, Sir Alfred Yarrow's Gift — 

As per last Account ....... 8,707 o 

Less Transferred to Income and Expenditure Account 

under terms of the Gift . . . £365 o o 
Less Transferred towards expenses of Cen- 
tenary Meeting 2,043 5 4 

2,408 5 4 

,, Life Compositions — 

As per last Account ....... 1,952 2 2 

^ rfd received during year ...... '135 o o 

,, Toronto U niversity Presentation Fund — 

As per last Account ....... 182 18 10 

Add Dividends . . . . . . . \ 8 15 o 

Less Awards given . . . . . . . 8150 

,, Lt.-Col, A. J. C. Cunningham's Bequest — 

For the preparation of New Tables in the Theory of 

As per last Account ....... 2,904 14 9 

A dd — 

Income Tax recovered . . . . . . 29 5 i 

Dividends ■......' 103 19 2 

Less Grants made ' 30 o o 

Carried forward 

£ s. d. 
10,942 19 1 

9,582 16 3 

192 o o 

10,000 o o 

6,298 14 8 

2,087 2 2 

182 18 10 

3,007 19 o 
£42,294 10 o 



June 30, 1932. 

June 30, 

£ s. d. 

io,g42 jg I 

9,582 16 3 

399 I I 

84 4 7 
10,000 o 


1,952 2 2 

182 18 10 

2,904 14 9 

44.755 16 9 


By General Fund, — 

£4,651 los. si. Consolidated 2\ per cent. Stock at cost 
£3,600 India 3 per cent. Stock at cost . 

£879 14s- gd. Great Indian Peninsula Railway ' B ' Annuity 
at cost ....... 

£52 I2S. 7i. War Stock (Post Office Issue) at cost 
£834 i6s. 6(i. 4i per cent. Conversion Stock at cost 
£1,400 War Stock 5 per cent. 1929/47 at cost 
£94 7s. 4J per cent. Conversion Stock 1940/44 at cost 
£326 9s. lod. 3} per cent. Conversion Stock 1940/44 at cost 
Cash at Bank 

{£8,274 iSs. lod. Value of Stocks at date, £9,175 is. 8<i 
,, Caird Fund — 

£2,627 OS. lod. India 3! per cent. Stock at cost . 

£2,100 London, Midland & Scottish Railway Consolidated 

4 per cent. Preference Stock at cost .... 

£2,500 Canada 3^ per cent. Registered Stock 1930/50 at cost 
£2,000 Southern Railway Consolidated 5 per cent. Preference 

Stock at cost ....... 

{£6,404 IIS. lod. Value at date, £5,565 i8s. 4<i.) 
,, Caird Fund Revenue Account — 

Cash at Bank ......... 

,, Sir F. Bramwell's Gift — ■ 

£165 I2S. lorf. Self Accumulating Consolidated Stock as per 

last Balance Sheet ..... 84 

3 II 5 /Idd Accumulations to October 5, 1931 . 2 

£ s. 


3.942 3 


3,522 2 


827 15 

54 5 


835 12 


1.393 16 


62 15 


54 8 


2,400 13 


2,190 4 


2,397 I 


2,594 17 


10,942 19 

£169 4 3 

86 6 
Z.«s Transferred to Sir J. Alfred Ewingas per 
contra ....... 86 6 

9,582 16 3 


,, Sir Charles Parsons' Gift — 

£10,300 4} per cent. Conversion Stock at cost ... 
{£io,6og. Value at date, £10,918) 
„ Sir Alfred Yarrow's Gift — 

£8,707 5 percent. War Loan as per last Account . . 8,707 o 

Less Sale of £2,408 5s. ^d. Stock under terms of the 

Gift ......... 2,408 5 4 

(Value at date, £6,408 19s. ^d.) 

,, Life Compositions — 

£2,949 12s. 4(i. Local Loans at cost ..... 1,923 12 2 
{£2,064 14s. 8d. Value at date, £2,300 14s.) 

Cash at Bank ........ 163 10 o 

,, Toronto University Presentation Fund — 

£175 War Stock at cost ...... 

{£180 ss. Value at date, £178 is. 3^.) 

Cash at Bank ....... 

,, Li.-Col. A.J. C. Cunningham's Bequest — 

£1,187 6s. lorf. 2} per cent. Consolidated Stock . 
£300 Port of London 3J per cent. Stock 1949/99 
£100 Commonwealth of Australia 4} per cent. Stock 
£100 New Zealand 5 per cent. Stock .... 
£800 India 6 per cent. Stock at cost .... 
£1,274 4S- lod. Local Loans 3 per cent. Stock at cost . 

{£2,8x6 17s. 6d. Value at date, £3,050 i8s. 6d.) 2,702 19 2 

Cash at Bank ........ 304 19 10 

10,000 o 

6,298 14 8 


2,087 2 2 

178 II 


4 7 


182 18 10 




801 12 

836 6 


3,007 19 o 

Carried forward 

£42,294 10 



Balance Sheet, 



June 30, 


i s. d. 

44.755 16 9 

20,000 o 

10,133 17 I 


13 !• 

lA A&ILITIKS— continued. 

i s. 

Brought forward ......••• 

To Down House Endowment Fund — 

As per contra ....••••• 


Sundry Creditors I77 13 

Do. Do. (Down House) 31 9 

Bank Overdraft — 

Down House Charges on General Fund . £3.734 2 1° 
L«ss General Account .... 3.569 59 

164 17 

,, Income and Expenditure Account — 

Balance at July I, 1931 .... 9,2861710 

Less Down House Income and Expenditure 

Balance at July i, 1931 .... 1,882 o 6 

7,404 17 4 
Less Excess ot Expenditure over Income 

for the year 387 12 11 

• 7,017 4 

£ s. d. 
42,294 10 o 

20,000 o o 

7,391 4 6 

£69.685 14 6 

I have examined the foregoing Account with the Books and Vouchers and certify 
the Investments, and have inspected the Deeds of Down House and the Mortgage on 


Arthur L. Bowley ) ^^^ilors. 
W. W. Watts J 

August 1932. 



June 30, 1932 — continued. 

June 30, 

I s. 

44,755 16 


20,000 o 

10,133 '7 I 

74.889 13 10 

AS SETS — continued. 


-Down House, 


Brought forward ...... 

By Sir Bucksion Browne's Gift in memory of Darwin 

Kent ......... 

Do. Endowment Fund — ■ 

£5,500 India 44 per cent. Stock 1958/68 at cost . 

£2,500 Australia 5 per cent. Stocl< 1945 '75 at cost 

£3,000 Fisliguard & Rosslare Railway 3^ percent. Guaranteed 

Preference Stock at cost ...... 

£2,500 New South Wales 5 per cent. Stock 1945/65 at cost . 
£2,500 Western Australia 5 per cent. Stock 1945/75 at cost . 
£2,500 Birkenhead Railway 4 per cent. Consolidated Stock at 

cost 2.013 

£3,340 Great Western Railway 5 per cent. Stock at cost . 3,436 

£ s. 
42,294 10 

Not valued. 


2,139 17 
2,467 7 
2,472 I 

{£17,303 los. od. Value at date, £19,197 14s- od.) 

Investments : — 

£2,098 IS. gd. Consolidated 2^ per cent. Stock at cost 
£4,338 6s. zd. Conversion 3i per cent. Stock at cost 
£400 5 per cent. War Loan Inscribed Stock at cost 

(£5,J5« Ss. 4d. Value at date, £5,879 i7s. 5"*-) 
Second Mortgage on Isleworth House, Orpington 
Down House Suspense Account — 

As per last Account .... 

Purchase of Land adjoining Down House . 
Stock of Catalogues at Down House . 
Sundry Debtors and Payments in advance 
Do. {Down House) 

Cash in Hand ..... 

1,200 o o 

3,300 o o 

404 16 o 

4,904 i6 o 

700 o 

938 7 

275 o 

119 o o 

392 n 5 

33 17 3 

27 12 10 

- 7,391 4 6 
£69,685 14 6 

the same to be correct. 
Isleworth House. 

I have also verified the Balances at the Bankers and 

W. B. Keen, 

Chartered Accountant, 



Income and 

FOR THE Year Ended 



June 30, 
I s. d. 




d. £ s. 


24 ig I 

To Heat, Lighting and Power. ....... 20 



157 9 

„ Stationery 211 



„ Rent I 

263 II 8 

„ Postages 322 



216 5 S 

,, Travelling Expenses I93 



37 14 -f^ 

„ Exhibitioners .......... 117 



27S 6 I 

,, General Expenses . . . . . . . . .284 



gyS 18 2 




1,794 7 

,, Salaries and Wages 1.908 




,, Pension Contribution ........ 75 

1,638 2 II 

,, Printing, Binding, Contributors and Editorial Fees . . . 2,650 




5i/o4 19 

i,486 8 I 

122 I 5 

,, Zimbabwe Loan Exhibition ....... 

,, Grants to Research Committees : — 


Palasozoic Rocks Committee ...... 20 

Llanmelin Committee ..... 


Transplant Experiments Committee 


Kharga Oasis Committee .... 


Sex Physiology of Parents Committee . 


Western Desert of EgjTJt Committee 


Seismology Committee .... 


Parachors of Chemical Compounds Committee 



Mycorrhiza in relation to Forestry Committee 



Macedonia Committee ..... 


Plymouth Laboratory Committee . 


Mechanical Ability Committee 


Derbyshire Caves Committee 


Freshwater Biological Station Committee 


Human Geography of Tropical Africa Committee 




73' 7 6 

Vocational Tests Committee 



Carried forward 

027 5 

5.339 n 

. £6,412 5 




Expenditure Account 

June 30, 1932. 

June 30, 

(. s. d. 

15S o 

i,8g8 5 

634 10 

13S 15 o 

ISO 10 

IS o 


g 18 

S78 15 10 

27s 7 5 

227 17 2 

31 13 I 

22 10 

1,340 8 S 

361 6 I 
27 2 6 

5,870 18 6 


By Annual Regular Members, including £37 for 1932/3 
Annual Temporary Members, including £394 for 1932/3 
Annual Members with Report, including £154 ros. for 1932/3 
Transferable Tickets, including £13 15s. for 1932/3 
Students' Tickets, including £13 los. for 1932/3 . 
Teachers' Tickets (L.C.C.) .... 

Life Compositions, Amount transferred 
Donation ...,.,. 

Interest on Deposit ...... 

Sale of Publications ...... 

Advertisement Revenue ..... 

Income Tax recovered ..... 

Unexpended Balance of Grants returned . 
Liverpool Exhibitioners . . . . . 

Dividends : — 

Consols ....... 

India 3 per cent. ...... 

Great Indian Peninsula Railway ' B ' Annuity 

4^ per cent. Conversion Loan 

Ditto Sir Charles Parsons' Gift 

Local Loans ...... 

War Stock ....... 

War Stock (Series A), Sir Alfred Yarrow's Gift 

3i per cent. Conversion Loan 

Sir Alfred Yarrow's Gift — 

Proceeds of sale of £365 War Loan in accordance with the terms 

of the Gift 

Less Loss on Sale ........ 

s. d. 

s. d. 

„ Interest on Mortgage 































































Carried forward 

£7,187 I 4 



Income and 

FOR THE Year Ended 

June 30, 

£ s. d. 
5,339 17 


S,S70 iS 6 



Brought forward . . . . . • • . . 

Special Expenses of the Centenary Meeting as far as can be dis- 
tinguished — 
Grants to Overseas Delegates — 

As per last Balance Sheet .... £1,500 o 
Paid during year ..... i.540 o 

£ s. d. 
1,412 5 3 

Hospitality and Entertainment 

Ditto (Secretariat) 236 

Printing, Binding, Contributors' and Editorial Fees 
Meeting Rooms, including Equipment, Attendants and Gratuities — 
As per last Balance Sheet .... £31 10 o 

Paid during year 

Travelling Allowance 
Presidential Banner 
Badges .... 
Salaries and Wages — • 

As per last Balance Sheet 

Paid during year 

948 5 7 
























Advertisements — • 

As per last Balance Sheet 
Paid during year 

£96 10 o 

503 13 II 

£13 7 o 

• 41 o 

boo 3 II 

54 7 

Balance, being excess of Income over Expenditure for the year 

To Balance brought down ........ 

,, Down House Income and Expenditure Account — 

Balance, being excess of Expenditure over Income for the year 
transferred — 

Current Expenditure . . . ' . 

Equipment, etc. ....... 

6,836 I 3 

£13,^48 6 6 
1,895 12 5 

150 13 
366 14 

517 7 6 
£2,412 19 II 

Gaird Fund, 



June 30 

£ s- 

d. _ 


34 S 


449 S 



To Grants paid — 

Seismology Committee 
Bronze Age Implements Committee 
Mathematical Table Committee 
Zoological Record Committee 
Naples Table Committee 

Balance, being excess of Income over Expenditure for the year 

s. d. 








561 8 2 

£561 8 2 



Expenditure Account 

June 30, 1932 — continued. 



June 30, 


5,«7P 18 6 

5,870 18 6 

INCOME — continued. 

£ s. d. 

Brought forivard ......... 

By Sundry Donations, Centenary Fund — 

As per last Balance Sheet 2,208 5 6 

Received during year i.907 7 3 

, Subsidy from the London County Council towards cost of printing 
Education in London .....■■■ 

, Balance, being excess of Expenditure over Income for the year 
carried down ......... 

„ Balance transferred to Balance Sheet 

£ s. d. 
7,187 I 4 

4. 115 12 9 

50 o o 

1,895 12 5 

£13,248 6 6 

By transfer of £2,043 5S- ^d. 5 per cent. War Loan towards expenses of 

Centenary Meeting from Sir A. Yarrow's Gift .... 2,043 5 4 
Less Loss on Sale . . . . . . ■ ■ • i7 18 4 

2,025 7 o 
387 12 II 

£2,412 19 II 

June 30, 1932. 

June ^o, 

£ s. d. 




J 3 







£ s. d. 

By Dividends — 

India 34 per cent. Stock . . . . . • • 58 19 i 

Canada 3-4 percent. Stock . . . . . • • 65 12 6 

London, Midland & Scottish Railway Consolidated 4 per cent. 

Preference Stock 63 o o 

Southern Railway Consolidated 5 per cent. Preference Stock . 75 o o 

Income Tax recovered ........ 

Unexpended Balance of Grants returned ..... 

Balance, being excess of Expenditure over Income for the year 

£ s. d. 

272 II 

Si 15 
207 I 



£561 8 




Down House, 


i s. d. 

To Wages of Stafi (net) ........ 840 10 11 

, Rates, Insurance, etc. . . ...... 72 4 o 

, Heat, Light and Drainage . . . . . . . 188 6 3 

, Repairs and Renewals . . . . . . . . 4116 

, House and Garden Sundries . . . . . . . 41 15 i 

, General Expenses . . . . . . . . . 68 3 9 

, Printing .......... — 

, Catalogues, Postcards, etc. . . . . . . . 44 6 11 





June 30 






















II 1 



7 1 





















1,296 8 5 

£1,296 8 5 

5 ;To Balance brought down ........ 150 13 2 

,, House and Garden Equipment, Repairs, Renewals and Alterations 

to Buildings, etc. ........ 287 4 4 

,, Costs re Rates Appeal, etc. . . . . . . . 56 18 o 

,, Cost of Inventory and Valuation ...... — 

,, Valuation and Transport of Darwin's Library . .' . . 22 12 

517 7 6 
£517 7 6 


XXX vu 

June 30, 1932. 

June 30, 


I s. d. 
14^ 3 4 
203 II I 

jyo 14 10 


10 10 I 
IIS 5 5 

1,^43 5 S 

315 16 6 

315 16 6 


By Rents Receivable ... . . 

, , Income Tax recovered ..... 

,, Dividends — 

4i per cent. India Stock .... 
Fishguard & Rosslare Railway $i per cent. Stock 
New South Wales 5 per cent. Stock 
Great Western Railway 5 per cent. Stock 
Australia 5 per cent. Stock 1945/75 
Western Australia 5 per cent. Stock 
Birkenhead Railway 4 per cent. Stock . 


Sale of Postcards, etc. 

Balance carried down 

182 10 8 

78 15 o 

92 3 9 
125 5 o 

93 15 o 
93 15 o 
75 o o 

By Balance, being excess of Expenditure over Income for the year 

£ s. d. 
137 o o 
223 IS 2 

741 4 

9 19 

33 16 

150 13 

£1,296 8 5 

517 7 6 

£517 7 6 



YORK, 1932. 

Grants of money, if any, from the Association for expenses connected 
•with researches are indicated in heavy type. 


Seismological Investigations.— Dr. F. J. W. Whipple [Chairman), Mr. J. J. Shaw 
(Secretary), Prof. P. G. H. Boswell, Dr. C. Vernon Boys, Sir F. W. 
Dyson, Dr. Wilfred Hall, Dr. H. Jeffreys, Sir H. Lamb, Mr. A. W. 
Lee, Prof. H. M. Macdonald, Prof. E. A. Milne, Mr. R. D. Oldham, Prof. 
H. H. Plaskett, Prof. H. C. Plummer, Prof. A. O. Rankine, Rev. J. P. Row- 
land, S.J., Prof. R. A. Sampson, Mr. F. J. Scrase, Capt. H. Shaw, Sir F. E. 
Smith, Dr. R. Stoneley, Mr. E. Tillotson, Sir G. T. Walker. £100 (Caird 
Fund grant). 

Calculation of Mathematical Tables.— Prof. E. H. Neville {Chairman), Dr. L. J. 
Comrie [Secretary), Prof. A. Lodge [Vice-Chairman), Dr. J. R. Airey, Dr. R. A. 
Fisher, Dr. J. Henderson, Dr. J. O. Irwin, Dr. E. S. Pearson, Mr. F. Robbins, 
Mr. D. H. Sadler, Dr. A. J. Thompson, Dr. J. F. Tocher, Dr. J. Wishart. 


To inquire into the position of Inland Water Survey in the British Isles and the 
possible organisation and control of such a survey by central authority. — 
Dr. Ezer Griffiths [Convener), Mr. E. G. Bilham, Dr. Brysson Cunningham, 
Vice-Admiral H. P. Douglas, Prof. C. B. Fawcett, Dr. A. Ferguson, Lt.-Col. 

E. Gold, Mr. W. T. Halcrow, Capt. W. N. McClean, Mr. C. Clemesha Smith, 
Dr. Dudley Stamp, Brig. H. S. L. Winterbotham. 



The possibility of quantitative estimates of Sensory Events. — Dr. A. Ferguson 
[Convener), Mr. R. J. Bartlett [Secretary), Mr. J. Guild, Dr. R. A. Houstoun, 
Dr. J. O. Irwin, Dr. G. W. C. Kaye, Dr. C. S. Myers, Dr. L. F. Richardson, 
Dr. J. H. Shaxby, Mr. T. Smith, Major W. S. Tucker [jrom Section A) ; Prof. 

F. C. Bartlett, Dr. W. Brown, Dr. S. Dawson, Prof. J. Drever, Dr. S. J. F. 
Philpott [from Section J) . 


To excavate Critical Sections in the Palaeozoic Rocks of England and Wales.^ — • 
Prof. W. W. Watts [Chairman), Prof. W. G. Fearnsides [Secretary), Mr. W. S. 
Bisat, Dr. H. Bolton, Prof. W. S. Boulton, Dr. E. S. Cobbold, Prof. A. H. Cox, 
Mr. E. E. L. Dixon, Dr. Gertrude Elles, Prof. E. J. Garwood, Prof. H. L. 
Hawkins, Prof. G. Hickling, Prof. V. C. Illing, Prof. O. T. Jones, Prof. J. E. 
Marr, Dr. F. J. North, Dr. J. Pringle, Dr. T. F. Sibly, Dr. W. K. Spencer, 
Prof. A. E. Trueman, Dr. F. S. WaUis. £20 (Contingent grant). 

The Collection, Preservation, and Systematic Registration of Photographs of 
Geological Interest. — Prof. E. J. Garwood [Chairman), Prof. S. H. Reynolds 


(Secretary), Mr. C. V. Crook. Mr. E. G. W. Elliott, Mr. J. F. Jackson Mr T. 
Ranson, Prof. W. W. Watts, Mr. R. J. Welch. 

To investigate Critical Sections in the Tertiary and Cretaceous Rocks of the 
London Area. To tabulate and preserve records of new excavations in that 
area. — Prof. W. T. Gordon {Chairman). Dr S. W. Wooldridge {Secretary), 
Mr. H. C. Berdinner, Prof. P. G. H. Boswell, Miss M. C. Crosfield, Mr. F. 
Gosling, Prof. H. L. Hawkins, Prof. G. Hickling. £15. 

The Stratigraphy and Structure of the Palaeozoic Sedimentary Rocks of West 
Cornwall. — Mr. H. Dewey {Chairman), Mr. E. H. Davison {Secretary), 
Mr. H. G. Dines, Miss E. M. Lind Hendriks, Mr. S. Hall, Dr. S. W. Wooldridge. 

To consider and report upon Petrographic Classification and Nomenclature. — 
Mr. W. Campbell Smith (Chairman). Dr. A. K. Wells (Secretary), Prof. E. B. 
Bailey, Prof. P. G. H. Boswell, Prof. A. Brammall, Prof. A. Holmes, Prof. 
A. Johannsen, Dr. W. Q. Kennedy, Prof. P. NiggU, Prof. H. H. Read, Prof. 
S. J. Shand, Dr. H. H. Thomas, Prof. C. E. Tilley, Dr. G. W. Tyrrell. 


Zoological Bibliography and Publication. — Prof. E. B. Poulton (Chairman), 
Dr. F. A. Bather (Secretary), Mr. E. Heron-Allen, Dr. W. T. Caiman, Sir P. 
Chalmers Mitchell, Mr. W. L. Sclater. 

To nominate competent Naturalists to perform definite pieces of work at the 
Marine Laboratory, Plymouth. — Prof. J. H. Ash worth (Chairman and 
Secretary), Prof. H. Graham Cannon, Prof. H. Munro Fox, Prof. J. Stanley 
Gardiner. £50. 

To co-operate with other Sections interested, and with the Zoological Society, for 
the purpose of obtaining support for the Zoological Record. — Sir Sidney 
Harmer (Chairman), Dr. W. T. Caiman (Secretary), Prof. E. S. Goodrich, 
Prof. D. M. S. Watson. £50. 

On the Influence of the Sex Physiology of the Parents on the Sex-Ratio of the 
Offspring. — Prof. J. H. Orton (Chairman), Mrs. Bisbee (Secretary), Prof. 
Carr-Saunders, Miss E. C. Herdman. £5. 

To consider the position of Animal Biology in the School Curriculum and matters 
relating thereto. — Prof. R. D. Laurie (Chairman and Secretary), Mr. H. W. 
Ballance, Mr. O. H. Latter, Prof. E. W. MacBride, Miss M. McNicol, Miss A.J. 
Prothero, Prof. W. M. Tattersall, Dr. E. N. Miles Thomas. 

To determine the behaviour of a limited and uniform plankton population observed 
under natural conditions. — Dr. G. P. Bidder (Chairman), Mr. A. C. Gardiner 
(Secretary), Dr. J. Gray, Mr. J. T. Saunders. £10. " 

The biology of a tropical river in British Guiana and of the neighbouring districts. 
— Prof. J. S. Gardiner (Chairman), Dr. G. S. Carter and Mr. J. T. Saunders 
(Secretaries), Dr. W. T. Caiman, Prof. J. Graham Kerr, Dr. C. Tate Regan. 


To aid competent investigators selected by the Committee to carry on definite 
pieces of work at the Zoological Station at Naples. — Prof. J. H. Ashworth 
(Chairman and Secretary), Prof. J. Barcroft, Prof. E. W. MacBride, Dr. M. 
Knight. £50. 


To try to arrange for the observation and recording of changes in the Flora and 
Fauna of St. Ki da since its evacuation. — Prof. J. Ritchie (Chairman) , 
Prof. F. A. E. Crew (Secretary) , Dr. A. Bowman, Prof. J. Graham Kerr, 
Dr. C. H. O'Donoghue, Dr. Doyd Praeger, Prof. J. Walton. 


To aid competent investigators selected by the Committee to carry out definite 
pieces of work at the Freshwater Biological Station, Wray Castle, Winder- 
mere. — Prof. F. E. Fritsch (Chairman), Mr. J. T. Saunders {Secretary), 
Miss P. M. Jenkin, Dr. C. H. O'Donoghue {from Section D) ; Dr. W. H. Pearsall 
[from Section K). £75. 


To co-operate with the Ordnance Survey in the production of a Population 
Density Map (or Maps) of Great Britain and to endeavour to get this pub- 
lished as soon as the 1931 Census is available ; and, further, to examine the 
possibility of making similar Maps of the Empire, utilising the International 
Map (i : 1,000,000) as the base. — Brig. H. S. L. Winterbotham {Chairman) , 
Capt. J. G. Withycombe {Secretary), Mr. J. Bartholomew, Prof. F. Debenham, 
Prof. C. B. Fawcett, Prof. H. J. Fleure, Mr. H. King, Mr. R. H. Kinvig, 
Prof. A. G. Ogilvie, Prof. O. H. T. Rishbeth, Prof. P. M. Roxby, Mr. A. 

To inquire into the present state of Knowledge of the Human Geography of 
Tropical Africa, and to make recommendations for furtherance and develop- 
ment. — Prof. P. M. Roxby {Chairman), Prof. A. G. Ogilvie {Secretary), 
Prof. C. B. Fawcett, Prof. H. J. Fleure, Mr. E. B. Haddon, Mr. R. H. Kinvig, 
Mr. J. McFarlane, Col. N. M. MacLeod, Prof. J. L. Myres, Mr. R. U. Sayce, 
Rev. E. W. Smith, Brig. H. S. L. Winterbotham. £5. 

To ascertain the place which Geography occupies in the Curricula of the Uni- 
versities in the various Dominions of the Empire. — Prof. C. B. Fawcett 
{Chairman), Dr. L. Dudley Stamp {Secretary), Dr. W. N. Benson, Mr. L. J. 
Burpee, Prof. F. Debenham, Dr. C. Fenner, Prof. Griffith Taylor, Prof. J. H. 


To complete two maps of England on the i /M. scale showing (i) the distribution 
of woodland (based on physical evidence) after the establishment of climatic 
conditions approximating to the present, and (ii) the distribution of wood- 
land on the basis of evidence derived from early topographical writings 
and maps. — Sir John Russell {Chairman), Prof. P. M. Roxby {Secretary) ; 
Prof. H. J. Fleure, Mr. R. H. Kinvig, Prof. A. G. Ogilvie, Brig. H. S. L. 
Winterbotham, Capt. J. G. Withycombe {from Section E) ; Dr. E. J. 
Salisbury, Dr. T. W. Woodhead {from Section K). £25. 


To report on the present position of Geographical Teaching in Schools, and of 
Geography in the training of teachers ; to formulate suggestions for a 
syllabus for the teaching of geography both to Matriculation Standard and 
in Advanced Courses 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 (including the Scottish 
Education Department) affecting the position of Geography in Schools and 
Training Colleges. — Prof. Sir T. P. Nunn [Chairman), Mr. L. Brooks {Secre- 
tary), Mr. A. B. Archer, Mr. J. N. L. Baker, Mr, C. C. Carter, Prof. H. J. 
Fleure, Dr. O. J. R. Howarth, Mr. H. E. M. Icely, Mr. J. McFarlane, Rt. Hon. 
Sir Halford J. Mackinder, Prof. J. L. Myres, Dr. Marion Newbigin, Prof. A. G. 
Ogilvie, Mr. A. Stevens, Prof. C. B. Fawcett {from Section E) ; Mr. C. E. 
Browne, Sir R. Gregory, Mr. E. R. Thomas, Miss O. Wright, Prof. Godfrey 
Thomson {from Section L) . 


Chronology of the World Crisis from 1929 onwards. — Mr. P. Ford {Convener), 
Miss Emmerson and Mr. F. W. Paish {Secretaries), Prof. A. L. Bowley, Prof. 
R. B. Forrester, Prof. H. M. Hallsworth, Prof. J. H. Jones. 



Industrial Co-operation : to report on the provisions for co-ordinating and 
stimulating scientific work bearing on business practice, and to make 
recommendations. — Dr. J. A. Bowie (Chairman), Mr. R. J. Mackay (Secre- 
tary), Prof. J. G. Smith, Mr. L. Urwick (from Section F) ; Prof. W. Cramp 
(from Section G) ; Dr. C. S. Myers (from Section J] ; Sir Richard Gregory 

{from Section L). 


Earth Pressures. — Mr. F. E. Wentworth-Sheilds (Chairman). Dr. J. S. Owens 
(Secretary), Prof. G. Cook, Mr. T. E. N. Fargher, Prof. A. R. Fulton, Prof. 
F. C. Lea, Prof. R. V. Southwell, Dr. R. E. Stradling, Dr. W. N. Thomas, 
Mr. E. G. Walker, Mr. J. S. Wilson. 

Electrical Terms and Definitions. — Prof. Sir J. B. Henderson (Chairman), Prof. 
F. G. Baily and Prof. G. W. O. Howe (Secretaries). Prof. W. Cramp, Prof. 
W. H. Eccles, Prof. C. L. Fortescue, Sir R. Glazebrook, Prof. A. E. Kennelly, 
Prof. E. W. Marchant, Sir F. E. Smith, Prof. L. R. Wilberforce. 

Stresses in Overstrained Materials. — Sir Henry Fowler (Chairman), Dr. J. G. 
Docherty (Secretary), Prof. G. Cook, Prof. B. P. Haigh, Mr. J. S. Wilson. 


To report on the Distribution of Bronze Age Implements. — Prof. J. L. Myres 
(Chairman), Mr. H. J. E. Peake (Secretary), Mr. A. Leslie Armstrong, Mr. H. 
Balfour, Mr. L. H. Dudley Buxton, Prof. V. Gordon Childe, Mr. O. G. S. 
Crawford, Prof. H. J. Fleure, Dr. Cyril Fox. 

To excavate Early Sites in Macedonia. — Prof. J. L. Myres (Chairman), Mr. S. 
Casson (Secretary), Dr. W. L. H. Duckworth, Dr. D. Randall-Maclver, Mr. M. 

To report on the Classification and Distribution of Rude Stone Monuments in the 
British Isles.— Mr. H. J. E. Peake (Chairman), Miss M. A. Murray (Secretary), 
Mr. A. L. Armstrong, Mr. H. Balfour, Prof. V. Gordon Childe, Dr. Cyril Fox, 
Mr. T. D. Kendrick. 

To report on the probable sources of the supply of Copper used by the Sumerians. 
— Mr. H. J. E. Peake (Chairman), Prof. C. H. Desch (Secretary), Mr. H. 
Balfour, Mr. L. H. Dudley Buxton, Prof. V. Gordon Childe, Mr. O. Davies, 
Prof. H. J. Fleure, Sir Flinders Petrie, Dr. R. H. Rastall. £25. 

To conduct Archaeological and Ethnological Researches in Crete. — -Prof. J. L. 
Myres (Chairman), Mr. L. Dudley Buxton (Secretary), Dr. W. L. H. Duck- 
worth, Sir A. Evans, Dr. F. C. Shrubsall. 

To co-operate with the Torquay Antiquarian Society in investigating Kent's 
Cavern. — Sir A. Keith (Chairman), Prof. J. L. Myres (Secretary), Mr. M. C. 
Burkitt, Dr. R. V. Favell, Mr. G. A. Garfitt, Miss D. A. E. Garrod, Mr. 
Lacaille. £5. 

To co-operate with a Committee of the Royal Anthropological Institute in the 
exploration of Caves in the Derbyshire district. — Mr. M. C. Burkitt (Chair- 
man), Dr. R. V. Favell (Secretary) , Mr. A. LesUe Armstrong, Prof. H. J. Fleure, 
Miss D. A. E. Garrod, Dr. J. Wilfrid Jackson, Prof. L. S. Palmer, Mr. H. J. E. 
Peake. £50. 

To investigate processes of Growth in Children, with a view to discovering 
Differences due to Race and Sex, and further to study Racial Differences 
in Women. — Sir A. Keith (Chairman), Prof. H. J. Fleure (Secretary) , Mr. L. H. 
Dudley Buxton, Dr. A. Low, Prof. F. G. Parsons, Dr. F. C. Shrubsall. 

To report on the progress of Anthropological Teaching in the present century. — 
Dr. A. C. Haddon (Chairman), Prof. J. L. Myres (Secretary), Prof. H. J. 
Fleure, Dr. R. R. Marett, Prof. C. G. Seligman. 


To make a preliminary survey of some reported archaeological sites in British 
Somaliland. — Dr. A. C. Haddon {Chairman), Mr. R. U. Sayce {Secretary), 
Prof. J. L. Myres. 

To co-operate with Miss Caton-Thompson in her researches in prehistoric sites in 
the Western Desert of Egypt. — Prof. J. L. Myres {Chairman), Mr. H. J. E. 
Peake {Secretary), Mr. H. Balfour. 

To report to the Sectional Committee on the question of re-editing ' Notes and 
Queries in Anthropology.' — Mrs. B. Aitken {Chairman), Mr. L. Dudley 
Buxton {Secretary), Miss R. M. Fleming, Prof. C. Daryll Forde, Dr. A. C. 
Haddon, Capt. T. A. Joyce, Prof. C. G. Seligman, Mrs. Seligman, Miss C. 

To report upon the steps which should be taken for the investigation and pre- 
servation of the deposits of the caves of Craven. — Prof. P. G. H. Boswell 
{Chairman), Dr. R. G. S. Hudson {Secretary), Mr. M. C. Burkitt, Dr. J. 
Wilfrid Jackson, Prof. L. S. Palmer, Dr. A. Raistrick. 


The supply of Oxygen at high altitudes. — Prof. J. Barcroft {Chairman), Dr. 
Raymond Greene {Acting Secretary), Mr. G. S. Adair, Mr. N. E. Odell, 
Major J. A. Sadd. £5. 

To deal with the use of a Stereotatic Instrument. — Prof. J. MeUanby {Chairman), 
Mr. F. R. Curtis {Secretary). 


The factors involved in Mechanical Ability. — Dr. C. S. Myers {Chairman), Dr. 
G. H. Miles {Secretary), Prof. C. Burt, Mr. F. M. Earle, Dr. LI. Wynn Jones, 
Prof. T. H. Pear. 

To inquire into (a) the occupations for which a training in Psychology is necessary 
or desirable, {b) the place Psychology should occupy in the curricula for 
University Degrees in Arts, Science, Medicine, Education, Economics and 
other subjects.- — Prof. F. C. Bartlett {Chairman), Mr. A. Rex Knight {Secre- 
tary), Dr. F. Aveling, Dr. W. Brown, Prof. J. Drever, Prof. B. Edgell, Mr. C. A. 
Mace, Prof. T. H. Pear, Dr. R. H. Thouless, Prof. C. W. Valentine, Mr. A. W. 


Transplant Experiments. — Sir A. W. Hill {Chairman), Dr. W. B. Turrill {Secre- 
tary), Prof. F. W. Oliver, Dr. E. J. Salisbury, Prof. A. G. Tansley. £2 6s. 2d, 
(Unexpended balance). 

To consider and report on the provision made for Instruction in Botany in 
courses of Biology, and matters related thereto. — Prof. V. H. Blackman 
{Chairman), Dr. E. N. M. Thomas {Secretary), Prof. M. Drummond, Prof. 
F. E. Fritsch, Sir A. W. HiU, Prof. S. Maugham, Mr. J. Sager. 

Fossil Plants at Fort Gray, near East London. — Dr. A. W. Rogers {Chairman), 
Prof. R. S. Adamson {Secretary), Prof. A. C. Seward. 

To investigate the effect of conditions on the growth, structure and metaboUsm 
of Kleinia articulata. — Prof. D. Thoday {Chairman), Mr. N. Woodhead 
{Secretary), Dr. F. F. Blackman. 


The teaching of General Science in Schools, with special reference to the teaching 
of Biology. — Prof. Sir T. P. Nunn {Chairman), Dr. Lilian J. Clarke {Acting 
Chairman), Mr. G. W. OUve {Secretary), Mr. C. E. Browne, Major A. G. 
Church, Mr. G. D. Dunkerley, Mr. S. R. Humby, Mr. E. R. B. Reynolds, 
Dr. E. W. Shann, Dr. E. Miles Thomas, Mr. E. R. Thomas, Mr. A. H. Whipple, 
Mrs. Gordon Wilson, Miss von Wyss. £35. 


Educational and Documentary Films : To inquire into the production and dis- 
tribution thereof, to consider the use and effects of films on pupils of school 
age and older students, and to co-operate with other bodies which are study- 
ing those problems. — Sir Richard Gregory {Chairman), Mr. J. L. Holland 
{Secretary), Mr. L. Brooks, Mr. A. C. Cameron, Miss E. R. Conway, Mr. G. D. 
Dunkerley, Mr. A. Clow Ford, Dr. C. W. Kimmins, Prof. J. L. Myres, Mr. 
G. W. Olive, Mr. S. Rivers-Smith, Prof. C. Spearman, Dr. H. Hamshaw 
Thomas {Section K), Dr. F. W. Edridge-Green {Section I). £5. 

To consider the position of science teaching in Adult Education classes, and to 
suggest possible means of promoting through them closer contact between 
scientific achievement and social development. — Prof. J. L. Myres {Chairman), 
Mr. C. E. Browne {Secretary), Major A. G. Church, Dr. Lilian J. Clarke, 
Miss E. R. Conway, Prof. C. H. Desch, Sir Richard Gregory, Mr. S. R. 
Humby, Miss H. Masters, Mr. E. R. Thomas. £10. 


To co-operate with the staff of the Imperial Soil Bureau to examine the soil 
resources of the Empire. — Sir John Russell {Chairman), Mr. G. V. Jacks 
{Secretary), Dr. E. M. Crowther, Dr. W. G. Ogg, Prof. G. W. Robinson {fro7n 
Section M) ; Prof. C. B. Fawcett, Mr. H. King, Dr. L. D. Stamp, Mr. A. 
Stevens, Dr. S. W. Wooldndge {from Section E). 


Corresponding Societies Committee. — The President of the Association {Chairman 
ex-officio), Mr. T. Sheppard {Vice-Chairman), Dr. C. Tierney {Secretary), 
the General Secretaries, the General Treasurer, Mr. C. O. Bartrum, Dr. F. A. 
Bather, Sir Richard Gregory, Mr. J. V. Pearman, Sir David Prain, Sir John 
Russell, Prof. W. M. Tattersall. 

Committee to take cognisance of proposals relating to National Parks by the 
Government and other authorities and bodies concerned, and to advise the 
Council as to action if desirable. — Dr. Vaughan Cornish {Chairman), Dr. C. 
Tierney {Secretary), Prof. P. Abercrombie, Mr. T. Sheppard, Prof. W. M. 
Tattersall {Corresponding Societies), Prof. A. H. Cox {Section C), Sir Chalmers 
Mitchell {Section D), Dr. Harrison {Section H), Sir D. Prain {Section K). 


The following resolutions and recommendations were referred to the 
Council by the General Committee at the York Meeting for consideration 
and, if desirable, for action : — 

From Section C {Geology). 

That the Committee of Section C draws the attention of the General 
Committee to the desirability of aerial photography of certain special 
topographic features in North-East Yorkshire and elsewhere, a list of 
which is being compiled, and suggests that the appropriate Government 
authority be approached. 


From Sections E {Geography) and M {Agriculture). 

(i) That the Council be requested to bring to the notice of the Ministry 
of Agriculture certain difficulties which have arisen in connection with 
the supplying of statistics of agricultural production to University Depart- 
ments and to other accredited workers for purposes of research. 

(2) That the Council be requested to invite the Ministry of Agriculture 
to expedite the publication of Parts I and II of Agricultural Statistics. 

From Section G {Engineering). 

That the British Association calls the attention of the Home Office to 
the objectionable and largely preventable noises caused by many motor 
vehicles, and suggests that the Home Office should make greater use of the 
powers that they possess for dealing with such nuisances. 

From Section H {Anthropology). 

That the Committee of Section H welcomes the present policy of the 
Museums Association in regard to the interchange by loan or otherwise of 
duplicate specimens in public museums and similar institutions, and 
requests the Council to make representations in this sense to the museums 
and other public bodies concerned. 


York, 1932. 







Again, for the fifth time, the British Association meets in York, a 
city of proved hospitality and the stage of great events. Y'ork is 
a monument of history ; its very stones are eloquent of the past. 
Not the least of the episodes it has witnessed was the birth of this 
Association. Your city, my Lord Mayor, was our cradle : we hold 
York in filial honour and affection. We are nomads who have 
strayed to the ends of the earth : we have been as far-flung as the 
British flag. We have enjoyed the welcome of many strange hearths. 
But here there is nothing unfamiliar. We take delight in coming 
home to a birthplace of happy memory and in recalling hopes 
which the past hundred years have generously fulfilled. 

Last year the infant of 1831 celebrated its centenary in the vigour 
of manhood, with a plenitude of pomp and circumstance which 
demanded no less ample a setting than the metropolis of the Empire. 
For President we had a man of world-wide fame, who fittingly 
embodied the imperial aspect that is part of the glory of the British 
Association. We had long known General Smuts as soldier and 
statesman : to some it may have come as a surprise when they 
found him also a philosopher, a student of ideas no less than a maker 
of history and a leader of men. It would be an impertinence for any 
successor in this chair to praise General Smuts ; to follow him is 
perforce to follow far behind. But one may congratulate the execu- 
tive on the happy instinct which recognised that the occasion was 
unique, and so led them to an unusual — not to say a daring — choice. 
It was amply justified by the event. Now they have returned to 
the beaten track along which Presidents for the most part plod, 


and have made a selection for which I am glad to have no 

Of General Smuts I would say one word more. His occupancy 
of the chair not only added to the lustre of our rejoicings : I like to 
think it had a deeper significance. May we not regard it as a 
harbinger of the spirit of goodwill and sanity which civilisation 
longs for, but does not yet see .'' Our hundred years of science have 
done sadly little towards curing the nations of mutual mistrust. 
Surely it was a good omen that, in marking the close of one century 
of achievement and the opening of another, we should have had for 
President a citizen of the world whose life has been a lesson in sub- 
ordinating the lower patriotism to the higher good, who by example 
no less than by precept has taught his fellows that they should 
beat their swords into ploughshares and not learn war any 

Now we revisit our birthplace well aware of our maturity. We 
have scored our first century and begun to compile our second with 
the easy assurance of a Bradman or a Hobbs. At once the question 
arises, Is that assurance justified by the Association's continued 
vitality ? Do we still give the community reason to support us ? 
Or are we a survival, trading on a reputation which our present 
activities do little to increase } I put the question bluntly — nowa- 
days we are all familiar with disagreeable stock-takings and shrinking 
values — but it need not detain us long. I am confident you will 
find no trace of decrepitude. It is true that the sciences included 
in our purview have become specialised and differentiated to a degree 
that would make ridiculous any claim to the qualified omniscience 
which was possible in our early days. It is also true that each 
department of science now has its own society of votaries who meet 
as it were in a masonic temple and converse in a jargon that has 
little if any meaning for the general ear. But these very facts make 
this Association the more useful. Notwithstanding the restrictions 
of specialism, science has its own broad outlook, demanding expres- 
sion and explanation to laymen. And more than ever is it true — far 
truer than it was a hundred years ago, when we were ridiculed as 
a hodge-podge of philosophers and made the target of an unsym- 
pathetic Press — that laymen want to have intelligent contact with the 
seekings and findings of the scientific mind. 

I say seekings and findings rather than conclusions, for that word 
has too final a ring. Here we may note a striking change in the 
temper of the investigator. I am old enough to remember a time 
when some of the spokesmen of science (never, indeed, the greatest) 
displayed a cocksureness that was curiously out of keeping with 
the spirit of to-day. Among contemporary leaders nothing is 
more general than the frank admission that they are groping 


in a half-light, tentatively grasping what at best are only half- 
truths. Things that to one generation seemed to be essential 
parts of a permanent structure are treated by the next as mere 
scaffolding. The quest of truth goes on endlessly, ardently, fruit- 
fully. And yet with every gain of knowledge we realise more clearly 
that we can never really know. To understand, as Einstein lately 
said, is to draw one incomprehensible out of another incomprehen- 
sible. From time to time we discover a fresh relation between 
observed phenomena, but each of the things which are found to be 
related continues to evade our full comprehension ; and that is 
apparently the only kind of discovery we can achieve. Our joy in 
the quest itself never fails ; we are constantly learning that it is 
better to travel than to arrive. 

The philosophical implications of this altered attitude are many — 
indeed they concern the deepest springs of thought. What I wish 
at the moment to point out is that the new spirit strengthens a sense 
of brotherhood between the scientific adept and the average man, 
who in his own way is also commonly a seeker after truth. He 
listens gladly when the specialist drops his toga and admits that 
in scientific matters the only dogma is that there is no dogma. 
Obviously too the advance of science makes an increasing claim upon 
the layman's notice through its technical applications. It invades 
his home and alters his ways ; it affects almost every feature of the 
daily round ; it brings him interests, comforts, wealth ; it enor- 
mously enlarges his powers of work and play. And, further, at a 
time like the present, when we carry a load of social and political 
and economic discontents, the ordinary citizen doubtless reflects that 
if only we could apply the dispassionate temper of science to the 
difficulties of the hour we might face them with less waste of effort 
and greater likelihood of settlement. 

These are a few of the reasons why the British Association keeps 
its hold on the public. It links experts with one another and with 
laymen, to the benefit of all. Experts gain by indulging in a short 
interval of comparatively lucid self-expression. They gain also by 
trying to understand each other, which is by no means so easy as 
you might suppose. To meet under these happy conditions is a 
stimulus to everybody. An old worker in science looks gratefully 
back on his attendances at the British Association not only as de- 
lightful human events but as red-letter days in his own development, 
as milestones in the unceasing march of his subject, and as helps in 
the hard task of keeping himself more or less in step. 

It is recorded that York was chosen for our birthplace because in 
the Yorkshire Philosophical Society the infant would secure intelli- 
gent dry-nursing at the hands of a large body of friendly amateurs. 
In a letter to the Secretary of that Society, Sir David Brewster 


described the purpose of the proposed Association in the following 
words : ^ 

' The principal objects would be to make the cultivators of 
science acquainted with each other, to stimulate one another to 
new exertions, to bring the objects of science more before the 
public eye, and to take measures for advancing its interests and 
accelerating its progress,' 

There, in a nutshell, is what the Association set out to do, what 
it may fairly claim to have done, and what it still does. If you 
want an illustration, you had it last year when a great audience sat 
for hours, with every sign of sustained attention, while the Evolution 
of the Universe was discussed by British and foreign specialists of 
acknowledged authority, immense learning, and conspicuous variety 
of opinion. 

At the end of that symposium the debate was admirably summed 
up by Sir Oliver Lodge, the Nestor of physics, who in every sense 
has filled a big place in our gatherings for more than fifty years. 
He has taught us much : would that he could teach his secret of 
perpetual youth 1 In a recent volume of reminiscences ^ he tells 
delightfully of the meetings he has frequented and the friendships 
to which they have led. If he is thankful for them, so are we for 
him. Not a few of us have found inspiration in the fountain of 
his knowledge, in the spontaneity and aptness of his spoken word, 
in the width of his sympathy and understanding, and have learnt 
to love him for his large humanity. 

My own first contact with these meetings antedates even that 
of Sir Oliver. Sixty-five years ago it chanced that the Association 
in its peripatetic course came, for the first time, to my native town 
and I was taken, a boy of twelve, by my mother to the Section of 
Mechanical Science, having already announced my intention of 
becoming an engineer. To the pundits of Section G we must have 
seemed an odd pair, the douce minister's wife and the shy little boy 
in his kilt. It was by my own wish, of course, that I was taken, 
and my mother counted no labour lost that might develop intelligence 
in her family of sons. The boy could not understand much of what 
he heard ; it was something, however, to see the leonine head of 
the sectional president, Macquorn Rankine, over whose engineering 
text-books he was later to spend many assiduous hours. There is 
no boundary to a mother's dreams, but in their wildest excursion 
they can scarcely then have pictured what is happening in this hall 

^ The British Association : A Retrospect, 1831-1931, by O. J. R. Howarth, p. 14. 
^ Advancing Science, being Personal Reminiscences of the British Association 
in the Nineteenth Century, by Sir Oliver Lodge. 


Here let me make a confession which may also serve as an 
apology. I have the unwelcome distinction of being the oldest 
President the Association has ever suffered. In its primitive years 
the average age of Presidents scarcely exceeded fifty : one of 
them, aged only twenty-nine, afterwards founded the Cavendish 
Laboratory, and so did a service to science which it would 
be impossible to overvalue. As time went on the choice fell 
on older men, and now the electors have taken what one hopes 
may be regarded as an extreme step. But, as it happens, this is 
not the first time I have read the President's Address. At the 
Edinburgh meeting of 1921 the President, Sir Edward Thorpe, 
was prostrated by illness and asked me to act as his mouthpiece. 
The small service so rendered brought an unexpected reward. 
Some newspaper report must have confused the platform substitute 
with the real President, for a well-known novelist sent me a copy 
of one of her romances which was no doubt meant as a tribute 
to Sir Edward. It was called The Mighty Atom — an arresting 
title. Perhaps that is why I did not read beyond the title-page. 
Without close examination it was put by a more orderly hand than 
mine on a shelf that already held works on like subjects by authors 
such as J. J. Thomson and Rutherford and Bohr. The Mighty 
Atom was said to be one of the best sellers of its day : in that 
respect, if in no other, it found congenial company when it was 
joined on the same shelf by a series of volumes from the fascinating 
pens of Eddington and Jeans. These, however, I need not tell you 
I have read and reread, to my entire pleasure and partial under- 


If * The Mighty Atom ' was an arresting phrase, it was also an apt 
one. For we now know the atom to be indeed mighty in senses 
that were little suspected by the begetters of atomic theory. It has 
been mighty in sweeping away ideas that were found inadequate, 
in demanding fresh concepts, in presenting a new world for con- 
jecture and experiment and inference, in fusing chemistry and 
physics into a single science. It is found to be mighty in the com- 
plexity of its structure and the variety of radiations it may give 
out when excited to activity. It has unravelled for us the be- 
wildering tangle of spectroscopic lines. And, most surprising of all, 
the atom, however seemingly inert, is mighty in being a magazine 
of energy which, for the most part, it locks safely away. This is 
fortunate, for if the secret were discovered of letting loose the 
atomic store we should invite dissolution at the hands of any fool or 
knave. And it is also fortunate that in the furnace of the sun, at 
temperatures far higher than those of our hottest terrestrial infernos, 


the stored energy of the atom is drawn upon, as we believe, and 
has been drawn upon for ages, to keep up that blessed radiation 
which makes man's life possible and is the source of all his power. 

In the middle nineties there set in an astonishing renaissance of 
physical science which has centred in the study of the atom and 
extends by inevitable logic to the stars. In quick succession came 
three great discoveries : the X-rays by Rontgen in 1895, radio- 
activity by Becquerel in 1896, and the electron by J. J. Thomson in 
1897. Sensational, puzzling, upsetting, these events inspired every 
physicist to new activities of thought and equipped every laboratory 
with no less novel methods of research. A flood of further dis- 
covery followed, the flow of which continues unabated. Within the 
last few months notable items have been announced that well 
deserve our attention. It may not be inappropriate if I try for 
a few minutes to touch — however lightly — on one or two aspects of 
this subject, as it is seen through the eyes of an engineer. 

Thanks mainly to J. J. Thomson, Rutherford and Bohr, we 
now recognise the atom of any substance to be a highly com- 
plex structure, built up, so to speak, of two sorts of blocks or 
brickbats — the electrons, which are indivisible units of negative 
electricity, and the protons, which are indivisible units of positive 
electricity. It is strangely simple to be taken back, as it were, to 
the nursery floor and the childish game, and given just two 
sorts of blocks, exactly alike in each sort, and exactly the 
same number of each sort, with which to build the universe 
of material things. The blocks are unbreakable : we cannot 
produce them or destroy them or change them. In respect of 
electrical quality the two kinds are equal and opposite, but they 
contribute very unequally to the atom's mass, each proton (for some 
reason not yet understood) contributing about 1,840 times more 
than each electron. Every substance is made up of blocks of the 
same two sorts. If you compare different substances you find 
that the diversity of their chemical and other properties arises 
solely from differences in the number and arrangement of the 
blocks which compose their atoms. Any atom, in its normal or 
electrically neutral state, must contain an equal number of protons 
and electrons. All the protons in any atom are gathered close 
together at the centre, along with some of the electrons, forming 
a compact, dense portion which is called the nucleus. Although 
the nucleus accounts for nearly the whole of the atom's mass, it 
occupies no more than a very minute fraction of the atom's volume. 
Those of the electrons which are within the nucleus doubtless 
serve to bind the protons together ; the other electrons constitute, 
as it were, a voluminous crinoline, or rather a series of crinolines, 
extending relatively far away frorn the centre and giving the whole 


atom an exceedingly open structure. Within that open structure 
upheavals may be caused by outside agents in various ways. One 
or more of the electrons in the crinoline may be temporarily removed 
(as, for instance, by the action of heat or by the incidence of energetic 
radiation), and the atom is then said to be ionised : for a time the 
balance between positive and negative is upset. But the missing 
electron returns to its place, or another comes instead, and when 
this happens a definite amount of radiation is given out, much as 
energy is given out when a weight falls from one to another landing 
of a staircase. We may speak of the landings as energy levels. 
The radiation which issues when an electron falls from one energy 
level to another constitutes what is called a photon.^ It has two 
aspects, behaving in one like a particle and in the other like a 
group of waves, and at present we have to accept both though 
we cannot fully reconcile them. The photon carries a definite 
quantity of energy and is characterised by a definite frequency 
of vibration. Its energy depends on the two levels between 
which the electron falls, and this determines the frequency of 
the vibration which the photon conveys, for the frequency is 
equal to the energy divided by that mysterious constant of 
nature, the Quantum of Action discovered by Planck. In any 
element all the atoms have the same set of energy levels : these 
contribute to the emission spectrum and account for its groups 
of spectral lines. In heavy atoms there are many energy levels, 
and consequently very many lines appear in their spectra. 

I will not weary you with details that are now fairly familiar. 
What we have to realise is that all matter consists of the two 
kinds of electricity, protons and electrons, held apart we do 
not know how. To the early experimentalists who electrified rods 
of resin or glass by rubbing them, electricity seemed no more 
than a curious attribute of matter : now we regard it as matter's 
very essence — the ultimate stuff out of which every atom is built. 
If you ask. What is electricity ? there is no answer, save that it is a 
thing which exists in units of two sorts, positive and negative, with 
a strong attraction for each other, and that in any atom you find 
them somehow held apart against that attraction, with a consequent 
storing of potential energy. They are prevented from coalescing, 
although the difference of potential between them is nearly a 
thousand milUon volts. Why they do not flash together is a 
mystery — one of the many mysteries which physicists have still to 

Engineers are accustomed to the idea of storing energy in a 
condenser by charging the opposed plates to a potential of a few 

3 We owe the name ' photon ' to Prof. G. N. Lewis of Berkeley, California., 
whq proposed it in a letter published ip Nq,t^re of December ]8, 1926, 


scores or hundreds or thousands of vohs. That is done by trans- 
ferring some of the crinohne electrons from one to the other plate : it 
involves only a minute supplementary separation, which disappears 
when the condenser is discharged. In every atom we have a per- 
manent separation of electricities ; the protons and electrons look at 
one another, so to speak, across an immensely greater dielectric gulf 
which no laboratory operation ever causes them to bridge. That 
is why every atom is a magazine of energy, the quantity of which 
(mc^) is proportional to the atom's mass. 

Any of the usual operations of the electrical engineer, such 
as charging and discharging a condenser or a storage battery, 
or driving a dynamo and conducting electricity from it to a 
distant station where it can actuate a motor or heat the filaments 
of lamps to incandescence, may be described as the setting up and 
the breaking down of a comparatively small extra difference of 
potential between the opposed electricities in some of the atoms of 
the engineering plant. In every process of industrial electricity, 
on whatever scale, what happens is a temporary enlargement of the 
potential difference which always exists between electrons and 
protons, and then a return to what may be called nature's status 
quo. But those supplementary differences of potential which the 
engineer first superimposes and then allows to disappear are ex- 
ceedingly small, even at their greatest, in comparison with the 
gigantic difference which the normal condition of the atom itself 

A notable event of the year is the strong evidence which 
Dr. Chadwick of the Cavendish Laboratory has found for the 
existence of what is called the neutron — a type of particle in which 
an electron and a proton are associated in particularly close 
juxtaposition. There is a like close association between electrons 
and protons in the nucleus of any heavy element, but it had not 
previously been discovered in a single isolated pair. Twelve years 
ago Lord Rutherford conjectured the existence of such a particle 
and described the properties it should possess. Its excessive small- 
ness and density, together with its lack of an external electric field, 
give it a unique power of penetrating matter. It is too slim to be 
confined under pressure in any vessel : it will simply slip through 
the walls. The normal hydrogen atom has the same two constituents, 
one proton and one electron, but in nothing like the same intimacy 
of association, for the hydrogen atom wears its electron as a bulky 
crinoline which confers on it an immensely greater volume. The 
neutron, on the other hand, may be said to have taken the crinoline 
off, folded it up and put it in its pocket. Not to be too fanciful, we 
may at least describe the partners as clasping one another so tightly 
that the electron has ceased to be a fender ; none the less as a unit 


of negative electricity it still serves to give electrical balance to the 
pair. Though so close together the two constituents of the neutron 
remain separate and distinct, parted by nearly as many million volts 
as in a hydrogen atom. In this hitherto unknown particle, whose 
existence the experiments of Dr. Chadwick seem to have definitely 
proved, we have a new physical entity of extraordinary interest and 
a powerful tool for further research. 

Lord Rutherford was the first to discover and name the nucleus. 
It is the inner sanctuary of the atom, the repository of secrets many 
of which have yet to be disclosed, almost unapproachable, not only 
because of its smallness but because of the electric field in which 
it is encased. Recognising the nucleus to be a richly charged 
strong-room, Rutherford has spared no effort to break it open. He 
has submitted it to a furious bombardment, using as missiles the 
alpha particles which radioactive substances project. These particles, 
each consisting of four protons and two electrons compactly built 
together, have the necessary velocity and energy to penetrate to the 
atom's heart. Rutherford had perforce to fire into the brown : he 
could not aim his gun, nor even tell when it would go off : the 
chances of a hit were no more than one in many millions. But hits 
were in fact obtained — hits so effective that they chipped off protons 
and caused the missile to be absorbed, thus realising the dream of 
the alchemist by making one element change into another. That was 
a dozen or more years ago : since then his attack has lost none of 
its severity. It has been taken up under his guidance by a school of 
workers and many further secrets of the nucleus have been revealed. 

Quite recently two of his disciples have gone one better, as 
disciples sometimes do, to the joy of their lords. Dr. Cockcroft and 
Dr. Walton have used missiles of their own making instead of those 
that come spontaneously and intermittently from substances such 
as radium or thorium. By beautiful devices they have applied their 
knowledge of electrical engineering and their mastery of electrical 
technique to project single protons into the nucleus of lithium, 
using a steady potential of several hundred thousand volts to give 
the projectile sufficient penetrating power. An atom of lithium has 
(usually) seven protons and four electrons in its nucleus ; the other 
three electrons constitute the crinoline. Here again it was a case 
of firing into the brown : out of millions of shots a few reached 
their billet. When the projected proton forces an entry into the 
lithium nucleus it creates a domestic disturbance of the liveliest 
kind. For with the seven protons already in occupation it makes 
an eighth ; the group then splits into two sets of four, each taking 
two of the electrons, and they fly violently apart with an energy 
drawn from the atomic magazine. The result is that two helium 
atoms are formed. This is a notable achievement, the first artificial 

B 2 


splitting of the atom by a laboratory process in which there is no 
recourse to the violent projectiles which radioactive substances 
provide. It has been followed up by successfully applying the 
same method to break up the atoms of other elements. 

It is a satisfaction to learn that in all the encounters and emissions 
and absorptions that are studied among atoms and photons and the 
parts of atoms there is, so far as we yet know, strict compliance 
with the accepted principles of conservation in respect of momentum 
and energy and mass, though matter (in the ordinary sense) is liable 
to transformation into energy and energy into matter. When radia- 
tion is emitted some matter disappears, for the atom that emits it 
loses a little of its mass ; when radiation is absorbed a like quantity 
of matter comes into being. 

But the engineer finds himself obliged to admit that no mechanical 
model of the atom can be expected to give an adequate picture of 
that strange new world. Our mechanical ideas are derived from 
the study of gross matter, which is made up of vast aggregates of 
atoms, and any model must share the limitations this implies. It is 
futile to explain the constitution of the atom in terms applicable to 
gross matter, just as it would be futile to study the psychology of 
an individual by observing only the movements of crowds. So we 
must expect to find within the atom and among its parts qualities 
and actions different in kind from those we know, and paradoxes 
which without a wider vision we cannot interpret. Such a paradox 
indeed confronts us at the present time, when we try to harmonise 
the wave aspect and the particle aspect of the photon, of the electron, 
and indeed of matter itself. These things are still a mystery — 
a riddle which some day we may learn to read. Meanwhile we do 
well to remember that any attempt to portray the structure of the 
atom in the language of ordinary experience is to give undue 
significance to symbols and analogies that are more or less invalid. 
Qualifying phrases like ' so to speak ' or ' as it were ' cannot be 
escaped. They are confessions that the image is inevitably a 
distortion of the reality it is intended to suggest. 


Let us now glance back to the early days of the Association, and 
trace a little — a very little — of what it has done for the advancement 
of science, both pure and applied. The two inevitably march 
together. Between discovery and invention there is, in effect if not 
always in form, a close partnership with a constant interchange of 
advantage. No discovery, however abstract, is safe from being 
turned to practical account ; on the other hand, few if any applica- 
tions fail to react in stimulating discovery and providing the experi- 
mentalist with more effective weapons of attack. 


From the first the Association took cognisance of engineering as 
one of the subjects it was created to advance. One of its earliest 
acts, and a very wise one, was to invite reports on the state of 
science : these were called for in many different fields and were 
written by the best available experts. In the first batch of such 
reports were two that dealt with engineering, one on the Strength 
of Materials and the other on Hydraulics. As it happened they 
were of very unequal merit ; but they are alike in this, that they 
demonstrate how conspicuous was the lack of science on the part of 
early British engineers. 

The engineers of those days were big professional figures. They 
had covered the country with a network of roads and bridges and 
canals ; they had drained the fens ; they had built harbours and 
lighthouses. By multiplying factories, by extending the uses of 
coal and iron, they were laying the foundations of that commercial 
supremacy which, so long as it lasted, we took for granted as a sort 
of national right. They had taught the world how to light towns 
by gas, and were beginning to drive ships by steam. Above all, 
they had shown that a new era of locomotion was about to set in. 
A railway connecting Liverpool with Manchester had been opened : 
its success was proved, and schemes were projected that would 
soon utilise labour on a large scale for a host of tunnels and cuttings 
and embankments, and so relieve the scourge of unemployment 
which — as we also know — follows the scourge of war. The engineering 
pioneers were sagacious men who put their faith in experience ; they 
knew little of theory and cared less. Instinct and personality 
carried them through difiiculties of a kind that science might have 
helped them to solve or to avoid. They had the sense to profit by 
their own mistakes. 

It is significant that in 1832, when the British Association called 
for a report on the present state of our knowledge of Hydraulics 
as a branch of engineering, the terms of reference included this 
curious phrase : ' Stating whether it appears from the writings 
of Dutch, Italian and other authors that any general principles are 
established in this subject.' 

The report was written by George Rennie, a son of the greater 
Rennie who left us a monument of his genius — I wish I could 
say an imperishable monument — in Waterloo Bridge. After giving 
a good summary of the work of foreign theorists the reporter 
remarks : 

' It only remains for us to notice the scanty contributions 
of our own countrymen. While France and Germany were 
rapidly advancing upon the traces of Italy, England remained 
an inactive spectator of their progress.' 


It is clear that there was much need for the scientific leaven 
which the new Association could, and did, provide. 

Another of the early concerns of the Association was with the 
performance of steam engines. At the date of our foundation 
more than fifty years had passed since the inventions of Watt 
provided an engine fit to serve as a general means of producing 
power. Its earliest application, and still at that date its most 
common one, was in the pumping of mines. Engineers took a pro- 
fessional and even sporting interest in what they called its ' duty,' 
meaning the amount of water pumped through a given height for each 
bushel of coal consumed. Nevertheless it is a remarkable fact that 
neither they nor the physicists of that period had any notion that 
the process involved a conversion of heat into mechanical work. 
It is difficult for us now to imagine a world of physics and engineer- 
ing where the idea had not yet dawned that there was such a thing 
as energy, capable of Protean transformations, but in all of them 
conserving its total amount. Enlightenment was soon to come, 
and our meeting-rooms furnished the scene. In 1843 Joule brought 
before one of the sections his first determination of the mechanical 
equivalent of heat. He spoke with the modesty natural — in those 
days — to a man of twenty-four. His paper was received in chilly 
silence. Two years later, after further experiments, he reappeared ; 
but again no notice was taken of the heresies of a youthful amateur. 
Nothing daunted, he prepared a fuller case for the Oxford meeting 
of 1847, perhaps remembering that Oxford is the home of lost 
causes. In a narrative written many years later, Joule has told 
how the Chairman suggested that as the business of the Section 
pressed he should not read the paper, but merely give a brief account 
of his experiments : 

' This [he says] I endeavoured to do, and discussion not being 
invited, the communication would have passed without comment 
if a young man had not risen in the Section and by his intelligent 
observations created a lively interest in the new theory. The 
young man was William Thomson.' 

But Thomson, though deeply interested, was not at first con- 
vinced. Nearly four years more were to pass before he satisfied 
himself that the doctrines of Joule did not clash with the teachings 
of Carnot, of which he was then an enthusiastic proselyte. At 
length he became a convert ; he saw, as we should now say, that 
the First Law of Thermodynamics was in fact consistent with the 
Second. Then indeed he accepted the principles of Joule in their 
entirety and was eager in their support. Quickly he proceeded 
to apply them to every part of the physical domain. Along with 
Clausius and Rankine he formulated the principles which govern 


the whole art of producing power by the agency of heat. The 
steam turbine of Parsons, the gas engines of Otto and Dugald Clerk, 
the oil engines of Daimler and Diesel, with all their social conse- 
quences in making swift travel easy by road and possible by air, 
are among the practical results. On the same thermodynamic 
foundation was built the converse art of mechanically producing 
cold, which we employ in ever-increasing measure for the import 
and storage of our food. Joint experiments undertaken by Joule 
and Thomson led to a further discovery which later enabled the 
process of refrigeration to be carried very near to the limit of cold- 
ness which Thomson himself established as the absolute zero. 
In the hands of Linde and Claude the ' Joule-Thomson effect ' as 
a means of producing extreme cold has created new industries 
through the liquefaction of air and the separation of its constituents 
by methods of fractional distillation. However cold, however near 
the absolute zero, was the Association's first reception of Joule, we 
may claim that in effecting a conjunction between him and Thomson 
it made amends. Their meeting in 1847 ushered in a new era both 
of scientific theory and of engineering practice. 

Of the Association's many other services there is little time to 
speak. When the telegraph developed in the middle of last century 
and spread itself across the Atlantic, largely under the guidance of 
that same William Thomson (whom later we knew as Lord Kelvin), 
there were no accepted units in which electrical quantities could be 
measured and specified. The scientific world was as badly off 
then for a standard of electricity as the commercial world is now 
for a standard of value. The need of electrical standards was 
urgently felt, by none more than Thomson himself. He stirred 
the Association to act : a strong committee was set up, and in time 
its work served as a basis of international agreement. There is no 
danger that any country will wish to ' go off ' the standards thus 
established. To settle them was an incalculable boon to science 
no less than to technics. It paved the way for the revolution of 
the eighteen-eighties, when electricity passed, almost suddenly, 
from being no more than the servant of the telegraph to be master 
of a great domain. It was then that the electric light and the electric 
transmission of power gave it a vastly extended application, and the 
fundatmental discoveries of Faraday, the centenary of which we 
lately celebrated, came into the kingdom for which they had waited 
nearly fifty years. 

Another notable achievement of the Association was to promote 
the establishment of a National Physical Laboratory. Informal 
talks, at our meetings in the nineties led to the appointment of 
a CO mmittee which moved the Government of the day to take action. 
The, Laboratpry was constituted, and Sir Richard Glazebrook was 


appointed its first head. What it has become in his hands and the 
hands of his successor, Sir Joseph Petavel, does not need to be told. 
From small beginnings it has grown to be an influential factor in 
the world's scientific progress, and a legitimate subject of national 

Another by-product of quite a diff'erent sort is the memorial to 
Charles Darwin which we hold as trustee of the nation and of all 
nations. At our meeting in 1927 the President, Sir Arthur Keith, 
spoke in his address of the house where Darwin lived and worked, 
pointing out how admirably it would serve as a monument of the 
great naturalist. No sooner was the suggestion published than 
a donor came forward whose devotion to the memory of Darwin 
expressed itself in a noble gift. Sir Buckston Browne not only 
bought and endowed Down House, but arranged with pious care 
that the house and its grounds should exhibit, so far as was possible, 
the exact environment of Darwin's life. The pilgrims who now 
visit this shrine in their thousands see Darwin's study as it was 
when the master thought and wrote, and can reconstruct the habit 
of his days. There could not be a more appropriate memorial. 
Its custody by the Association involves obligations which are by no 
means small, and we may claim that they are worthily fulfilled. 

One may safely say that there is no department of scientific 
endeavour our meetings have not aided, no important step in the 
procession of discovery they have not chronicled. It was at our 
meeting of 1856 that Bessemer first announced his process of 
making a new material — what we now call mild steel — by blowing 
air through melted pig iron. Produced in that way, or by the 
later method of the regenerative furnace and the open hearth, it 
soon revolutionised the construction of railways, bridges, boilers, 
ships, and machinery of all sorts, and it now supplies the architect 
with skeletons which he clothes with brick and stone and concrete. 
It was at the Oxford meeting of 1894 that Lodge demonstrated 
a primitive form of wireless telegraph based on the experiments 
of Hertz, a precursor of the devices that were brought into use a 
little later through the practical skill and indefatigable enterprise 
of Marconi. At the same meeting there was an epoch-making 
announcement by the late Lord Rayleigh. His patient weighings 
of the residual gas which was found after depriving air of all its 
oxygen led him to the discovery of argon. That was a surprise 
of the first magnitude ; it was the herald, one may say, of the new 
physics. Next year his colleague Ramsay presented other members 
of the family of inert gases. It is curious to recall the indifference 
and scepticism with which these really great discoveries were 
received. Some of the chemists of that day seem to have had no 
use for inert gases. But the stones which the builders were at first 


disposed to refuse are become head-stones of the corner. In the 
architecture of the elements they fill places that are distinctive and 
all-important ; they mark the systematic sequences of the periodic 
law. In a metaphor appropriate to atomic physics we may describe 
them as coy ladies with a particular symmetry in their crinoline of 
electrons, unresponsive to advances which other atoms are ready 
to make or to receive. Inert though they be, they have found 
industrial uses. Helium fills airships ; argon fills incandescent 
lamps ; and neon, so modest a constituent of the atmosphere that 
you might think it born to blush unseen, has lately taken to blushing 
deliberately and even ostentatiously in the shop-signs of every city 
street. In the field of pure science it was neon, outside the radio- 
active elements, that first introduced us to isotopes. And helium 
has a greater glory as the key to radioactive transformations and 
historian of the rocks. Disciples of evolution should be grateful 
to helium for delivering them from the cramping limits of geological 
time which an earlier physics had mistakenly imposed. 

My own recollection covers many surprises that are become 
commonplaces to-day : the dynamo, the electric motor, the trans- 
former, the rectifier, the storage battery, the incandescent lamp, 
the phonograph, the telephone, the internal combustion engine, 
aircraft, the steam turbine, the special steels and alloys which 
metallurgists invent for every particular need, wireless telegraphy, 
the thermionic valve as receiver, as amplifier, as generator of electric 
waves. To that last we owe the miracle of broadcasting. Who, 
a generation ago, would have imagined that a few yards of stretched 
wire outside the window and a magic box upon the sill should 
conjure from adjacent space the strains of Beethoven or Bach, the 
exhortations of many platforms, the pessimism natural to those who 
forecast the weather, and the optimism of orators who have newly 
dined ? 

' Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. 
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments . . . 
And sometime voices . . . that, when I waked, 
I cried to dream again.' 

I don't know any product of engineering more efficient than that 
magic box. It needs no attention ; it is always ready for service ; 
and when you tire of it you have only to switch it off. A blessing on 
it for that ! Heard melodies may be sweet, but those unheard are 
often sweeter. Do you ever reflect, when you pick and choose 
among the multitude of airs and voices, or shut out all from your 
solitude of thought, that they are still there, physically present, 
individual, distinct, crowding yet not interfering, besetting you 
though you do not perceive them, silent until you determine that 


one or another shall catch your ear ? Go where you will, to the 
ocean or the wilderness or the Pole, you cannot escape that vast 
company of attendants ; they come to you, unheard, unseen, from 
every quarter of the globe with a swiftness no other messengers 
approach. Is any fairy tale so strange as that reality ? In all the 
wizardry of science surely there is nothing more wonderful than 


Among the inventions which have revolutionised the habits of 
modern man some were developed by steps that were mainly 
empirical. Others, especially those that are most recent, have had 
a very different history : science has been their incubator and their 
forcing-house. In the advance of any invention there is bound to 
be an element of trial and error, but when the scientific method is 
consistently applied the proportion of error is small and progress is 
swift. We see this exemplified in the development of mechanical 
flight, where one difficulty after another has been vanquished by 
aid of well-directed theory and well-related experiment. Or con- 
sider that immensely important modern art, the art of communica- 
tion by telegraph and telephone, by wire and ' wireless.' There 
the eff'orts of scientific engineers were dominant at every stage, 
and it was through their guidance that the art quickly achieved its 
world-wide triumphs. It is true that in the story of long-distance 
radio-telegraphy there was a striking episode where the courage 
of the practical inventor forestalled the discovery of a recondite 
scientific fact. It happens that the wireless waves from a radio- 
station, instead of shooting out straight into space as such rays 
might be expected to do, become bent in the upper regions of the 
atmosphere, taking a surprising and convenient curvature which 
enables them to travel round the surface of the globe. An unlooked- 
for kindness on the part of Nature has provided what we now call 
the Heaviside layer by which she works this happy trick. The 
strange fact that the rays could somehow bend was recognised and 
applied by Marconi before anybody had a rational explanation to 
suggest. Speaking broadly, however, it was scientific nursing of the 
infant art, and scientific culture throughout its period of growth, that 
brought it to the splendid manhood which now blesses mankind. 

I think we may regard the whole art of electrical communication 
as an unqualified blessing, which even the folly of nations cannot 
pervert : in that regard it differs conspicuously from some other 
inventions. Before it came into use the sections of civilised man 
were far more separate than they will ever be again. There could 
be scant sympathy or understanding, little chance of effective 
co-operation among communities scattered over the earth. A 


calamity might fall on one and be already old before others knew 
of it to offer help. Now we have all the world made practically 
instant in its interchange of thought. Through this physical 
linkage, which annihilates both space and time, there is opened 
a possibility of quick discussion, common resolution, simultaneous 
action. Can you imagine any practical gift of science more 
indispensable as a step towards establishing the sense of international 
brotherhood which we now consciously lack and wistfully desire ? 
Should that aspiration ever become more than a dream we shall 
indeed have cause to bless the creators of electrical communication, 
to praise them and magnify them for ever. 

In the present-day thinkers' attitude towards what is called 
mechanical progress we are conscious of a changed spirit. Admira- 
tion is tempered by criticism ; complacency has given way to doubt ; 
doubt is passing into alarm. There is a sense of perplexity and 
frustration, as in one who has gone a long way and finds he has 
taken the wrong turning. To go back is impossible : how shall 
he proceed .'' Where will he find himself if he follows this path 
or that ? An old exponent of applied mechanics may be forgiven 
if he expresses something of the disillusion with which, now standing 
aside, he watches the sweeping pageant of discovery and invention 
in which he used to take unbounded delight. It is impossible not 
to ask. Whither does this tremendous procession tend ? What, after 
all, is its goal } What its probable influence upon the future of the 
human race ? 

The pageant itself is a modern aff'air. A century ago it had 
barely taken form and had acquired none of the momentum which 
rather awes us to-day. The Industrial Revolution, as everybody 
knows, was of British origin ; for a time our island remained the 
factory of the world. But soon, as was inevitable, the change 
of habit spread, and now every country, even China, is become 
more or less mechanised. The cornucopia of the engineer has been 
shaken over all the earth, scattering everywhere an endowment 
of previously unpossessed and unimagined capacities and powers. 
Beyond question many of these gifts are benefits to man, making 
life fuller, wider, healthier, richer in comforts and interests and 
in such happiness as material things can promote. But we are 
acutely aware that the engineer's gifts have been and may be 
grievously abused. In some there is potential tragedy as well as 
present burden. Man was ethically unprepared for so great a 
bounty. In the slow evolution of morals he is still unfit for the 
tremendous responsibility it entails. The command of Nature has 
been put into his hands before he knows how to command himself. 

I need not dwell on consequent dangers which now press them- 
selves insistently on our attention. We are learning that in the 


affairs of nations, as of individuals, there must, for the sake of 
amity, be some sacrifice of freedom. Accepted predilections as 
to national sovereignty have to be abandoned if the world is to keep 
the peace and allow civilisation to survive. Geologists tell us that 
in the story of evolution they can trace the records of extinct species 
which perished through the very amplitude and efficiency of their 
personal apparatus for attack and defence. This carries a lesson 
for consideration at Geneva. But there is another aspect of the 
mechanisation of life which is perhaps less familiar, on which I 
venture in conclusion a very few words. 

More and more does mechanical production take the place of 
human effort, not only in manufactures but in all our tasks, even 
the primitive task of tilling the ground. So man finds this, that 
while he is enriched with a multitude of possessions and possi- 
bilities beyond his dreams, he is in great measure deprived of one 
inestimable blessing, the necessity of toil. We invent the machinery 
of mass-production, and for the sake of cheapening the unit we 
develop output on a gigantic scale. Almost automatically the 
machine delivers a stream of articles in the creation of which the 
workman has had little part. He has lost the joy of craftsmanship, 
the old satisfaction in something accomplished through the con- 
scientious exercise of care and skill. In many cases unemploy- 
ment is thrust upon him, an unemployment that is more saddening 
than any drudgery. And the world finds itself glutted with com- 
petitive commodities, produced in a quantity too great to be 
absorbed, though every nation strives to secure at least a home 
market by erecting tariff walls. 

Let me quote in this connection two passages from a single issue 
of The Times.^ In different ways they illustrate the tyranny of the 
machine. One is this : 

' The new Ford works built upon a corner of Essex . . . will 
soon be able to produce motor-cars at the rate of two a minute.' 

The other comes from Moscow. It also relates to the mass- 
production of motor-cars, and indicates how Russia is reaching 
out towards a similar perfection under the austere stimulus of the 
Five Years' Plan : 

' The Commissar lays down dates for the delivery of specified 
quantities by each factory and invests twenty-one special directors 
with extraordinary powers to increase production, threatening 
each director with personal punishment if deliveries are belated.' 

We must admit that there is a sinister side even to the peaceful 
activities of those who in good faith and with the best intentions 

* The Times, June 25, 1932. 


make it their business to adapt the resources of Nature to the use 
and convenience of man. 

Where shall we look for a remedy ? I cannot tell. Some may 
envisage a distant Utopia in which there will be perfect adjustment 
of labour and the fruits of labour, a fair spreading of employment 
and of wages and of all the commodities that machines produce. 
Even so the question will remain, How is man to spend the leisure 
he has won by handing over nearly all his burden to an untiring 
mechanical slave ? Dare he hope for such spiritual betterment as 
will qualify him to use it well ? God grant he may strive for that 
and attain it. It is only by seeking he will find. I cannot think 
that man is destined to atrophy and cease through cultivating what 
after all is one of his most God-like faculties, the creative ingenuity 
of the engineer. 






It will be in accordance with the desire of this Section, I am sure, that 
I should take this opportunity of placing on record our appreciation of 
the work of Dr. E. H. Griffiths, who died since our last meeting. 
Dr. Griffiths was President of this Section when the Association last 
met in this city in 1906. Subsequently he was President of Sec- 
tion L, and, still later, he rendered great service to the Association as 
General Treasurer for a period of eight years. His contributions to 
knowledge in the field of accurate thermal measurements are of funda- 
mental importance, although they are liable to be overshadowed by the 
more recent and more spectacular discoveries in atomic physics. It is 
natural enough, but still in some ways regrettable, that physicists of the 
younger generation turn to the new and attractive branches of physics, 
and avoid so comparatively dull a subject as heat. Thus the disappearance 
of men like Griffiths and Callendar, who so often worked in close associa- 
tion, leaves this important part of experimental physics greatly in need of 
new workers of equal initiative and skill. 

One other reference is, I think, called for before passing to the subject 
of my address. We are now commencing the second century of our 
existence as an association for the advancement of science. It could 
scarcely have fallen out more appropriately that this year is specially 
marked by the important new discoveries in the Cavendish Laboratory — 
interpreted as the production of 7ieutrons, about which we shall hear more 
during our proceedings, and as the transformation of the elements by 
artificial means. Whether or not these interpretations may require future 
modification, there can be no doubt as to the fundamental nature of 
the phenomena observed. It seems certain, too, that we can look forward 
confidently to further remarkable developments, which, we may hope, 
will form the subject of a presidential address in this Section. But it is, 
as yet, too early to take stock of this, and related, recent work, and there 
are others much more qualified than I to undertake the task in due course. 
Accordingly I have chosen a subject with which I am more familiar, and 
which, although not new, seems to be worthy of consideration at the 
present time. 

Perhaps some apology, or at least explanation, is necessary for the choice 
of a subject for which I have not even been able to find a satisfactory 


title. Applied geophysics may clearly be taken to include certain aspects 
of meteorology or oceanography or, indeed, any branch of knowledge in 
which physics is applied, in the service of mankind, to the elucidation of 
the properties of the earth. I propose to deal with what is in fact only 
a limited field of work. Put briefly, it covers the application of physical 
methods to the examination, without digging or boring, of what lies 
beneath the surface of the earth at relatively shallow depths of less than 
a few thousand feet. The apphcation is more particularly directed to 
the discovery of deposits of economic importance, such as minerals or oil, 
or the structural formations with which they are likely to be associated. 

Truly this is a subject as different as it could very well be from those 
flights of theoretical physics — relativity, quantum theory, wave mechanics 
and the like — which those of us with slower minds and more pressing 
other occupations try so desperately to follow. In our admiration and, 
perhaps, envy of the apparent ease with which the pioneers in these new 
fields make progress, we are inclined, wrongly, I think, to allow it to be 
assumed that modern physics and atomic physics are one and the same 
thing. It should not be overlooked that physics is making rapid strides 
forward also in other directions. Much that is new in the precision of 
measurement, in the choice of methods, and in the invention and design 
of physical tools for the attack on old problems hitherto unsolved, has 
become in recent years added to our knowledge. This is true with regard 
to the particular branch of physics we are now to consider. Its funda- 
mental basis is not new. It involves no appeal to, let us say, wave 
mechanics ; the old gravitational theory of Newton and the electro- 
magnetic theory of Maxwell serve well enough our purposes. Yet its 
successful application continues to demand the highest experimental skill 
that training in physics can provide, and initiative ability equal to that 
more frequently directed in less practical channels. 

My subject is also a border-line one, and, perhaps for that reason, has 
not received as much attention as it deserves, at any rate in this country. 
Its practice involves the co-operation of geologists with physicists, except 
in those rare examples of the same person being expert in both branches 
of knowledge. This co-operation is desirable for many reasons, and 
essential for others. The geologist, if I may say so, is more practically- 
minded than the physicist. He puts a higher monetary value upon his 
work, and he is bolder in the expenditure of money upon exploratory 
investigations. His experience in the field accustoms him to the rigours 
of work out of doors as compared with the calm of a laboratory, and he 
is more ready to attack problems at first sight unlikely to be soluble. 
He has a keener eye, too, regarding the economic results of his field work. 
As illustrating these points I can do no better than relate the fact that it 
was a famous geologist, the late Prof, de Bockh, who suggested to the 
equally famous physicist. Baron von Eotvos (whose work we shall con- 
sider more fully later), that the Eotvos torsion balance should be used to 
locate and delineate buried salt domes — geological features with which 
oil is frequently associated. Prof, de Bockh once told me that at first 
Eotvos was horrified at the idea. He regarded the use of his instru- 
ment for such an economic purpose as debasing science, and it was only 


with great difficulty that he was eventually persuaded to initiate what has 
now become a common and successful practice in various parts of the 

I may perhaps mention, too, that when I first became interested about 
five years ago in applied geophysics, I was very doubtful of its use. Could 
conditions underground, I asked myself, ever be so simple and free from 
complications that physical observations on the surface would point 
unequivocally to the solution ? The answer to this question is, generally 
speaking, in the negative ; but here the geologist comes in again. He 
carries out his preliminary survey by his own methods, and is often able 
to indicate both the limited region where a geophysical survey seems 
desirable, and in a general way the kind of formation which is to be sought, 
thus enabling a suitable choice of method to be made. He provides, in 
fact, the selection rules for the geophysicist, in much the same way as the 
quantum theorist does for the spectroscopist, as regards both where to 
look and what to expect to find. It is true that sometimes a forbidden 
result persists in obtruding itself inconveniently upon the geological 
interpretation, just as a forbidde7i spectral line may refuse to be extin- 
guished. But usually the solution of a problem has to depend upon the 
combined result of geological and physical evidence, and is only approxi- 
mate at that. Still, the co-operative effort is undoubtedly more likely 
to lead nearer to the truth than either singly, and physics and geology 
must accordingly work hand in hand. 

Geophysical Prospecting. 

Before going on to consider the theoretical basis and the practical 
methods employed, we may well inquire what justification there is for 
carrying out geophysical surveys of the kind to be described. Why go 
to the expense of supplementing a geological investigation by systematic 
measurements of a physical character ? Geophysical surveying is costly, 
either in the price of the necessary instruments, or in running expenses, 
or in both. A high quality gravity torsion balance, for example, costs 
;(^i,ooo, and it may be noted that nearly two hundred of these instruments 
were at one time in use on the oil-fields in America. The portable 
seismometers required for an alternative method of attack are also 
expensive, and the running costs in seismic work rapidly mount up, owing 
to the requirement of, possibly, a hundred tons of high explosive during 
a survey. And it is necessary to reckon, besides, the substantial salaries 
and wages bill of the geophysical staff, often working in fields remote 
from civilisation, and requiring all the special accessories of camp life. 

The answer to the question proposed is that everything depends on 
relative cost. If the servant in the parable had happened to forget where 
he had buried his talent, geophysical assistance for its recovery would not 
have been a sound economic proposition. But if the prize is of great 
value — millions of tons of mineral oil, for instance — extensive application 
of suitable geophysical methods may become both justifiable and advisable. 
Each problem has to be considered from this point of view, on the basis 
of the experience gradually accumulating from previous surveys. But 
it is not my purpose to discuss this interesting economic subject, except 


to say that there are well-established cases where geophysical methods 
properly applied have, at relatively low cost, either led to the discovery 
of important mineral deposits previously unknown, or have facilitated 
the precise location of such deposits, thus reducing abortive digging or 
drilling to a minimum. 

It is mainly the physical basis of the work that I wish to review. And 
here I should point out that this limitation will exclude ' divining,' 
whether for water or any other underground feature. Innumerable 
claims of successful use have been made for the divining-rod and similar 
indicators, but the f nodus operandi has never been explained, and none 
have been established on an acceptable physical basis. This is not to say 
that all the claims are necessarily false, and I do not wish to use this 
occasion to express scepticism. For I have discovered, to my surprise, 
that the use of the hazel twig for water-divining finds credence among 
scientific friends, the honesty of whose beliefs is above suspicion ; con- 
sequently I am less ready to be dogmatic on the subject. Nevertheless, 
I am glad to escape from this highly controversial ground by defining in 
a sufficiently exclusive manner what is a geophysical method, and what 
a geophysical instrument, in relation to the search for minerals. The 
basis of every geophysical method is the differentiation, usually abrupt, 
of some physical property as between rocks. The four principal methods 
— gravitational, magnetic, seismic and electrical — depend, in fact, upon 
differences, in the various media underlying the earth's surface, of density, 
of magnetic susceptibility, of velocity of elastic wave propagation, and of 
electrical conductivity respectively. Associated with these variations of 
physical properties, either naturally or through stimulation by artificial 
means, there are produced, at or near the earth's surface, calculable 
physical effects which may be capable of measurement by suitable 
apparatus. Such apparatus is a geophysical instrument, in the sense in 
which the term will be used. Divining-rods do not belong to this 
category ; nor, on present evidence, do those apparently more elaborate 
instruments which are sometimes found advertised and illustrated in such 
unexpected organs of publicity as the popular story magazines. What- 
ever the outward form depicted may suggest, and whatever the validity 
of the remarkable claims to infallibility in the text, these instruments 
cannot be regarded as geophysical instruments until the mode of action 
is revealed, and proved to be dependent on known physical laws. In 
short, there must be something physical to measure, and the instrument 
must be able to measure it. 

Considering the simplicity and obvious nature of the physical concepts 
involved, it is not surprising that frequent suggestions have been made 
over a long period of years to put the matter to practical test. As early 
as the seventeenth century, indeed, the magnetic method was success- 
fully employed to locate deposits of magnetite and other highly ferruginous 
ore-bodies, by observing how the earth's magnetic field was distorted 
locally by their magnetisation. And the beginnings of the electrical 
methods appear to date back to 1830. But substantial progress was not 
made until comparatively recent years, and practical geophysical pros- 
pecting — that is, systematic surveys with instrumental equipment specially 


designed and adequate for the purpose — can be described as a post-war 
development. It is of this that I wish to speak ; and, in this work which 
has suffered from inadequate pubHcation, and the very nature of which 
imphes collaboration, I shall not attempt to assign credit in any precise 
manner. Except in one case. I single out Eotvos as the somewhat 
reluctant pioneer of geophysical prospecting as it is known to-day. His 
fundamental work on gravitation has made practicable what is still the 
best-established and most precise geophysical method available. 

The Gravitational Method. 

1 do not think that Eotvos has yet received in this country the full 
recognition which his work deserves. Possibly this is because the early 
accounts appeared in rather inaccessible journals ; or, possibly, there were 
real doubts concerning the validity of his claims. I remember, as a 
student, hearing vaguely about his experiments — -and his name, without 
anyone knowing how to pronounce it. In the same lectures we learnt 
much fuller details of Boys' classic measurement of the constant of 
gravitation, without realising how remarkably similar in essential form 
the Eotvos and Boys instruments were. But the fact is that when Boys 
was inventing and making the quartz fibres for his torsion balance to 
weigh the earth, Eotvos had already tackled successfully the difficult 
task of making robust and portable for field work another torsion balance 
of not greatly inferior sensitivity. And while Boys was busy with his 
measurements in a constant-temperature cellar, Eotvos was completing 
the protection of his portable instrument against the temperature varia- 
tions inevitable in the rigours of the field. A few years later he made 
notably successful gravitational surveys on the frozen surface of Lake 
Balaton, and on the Great Hungarian Plain ; but it was not until Shaw 
and Lancaster-Jones ^ had demonstrated in 1923 that an Eotvos balance, 
acquired for the Science Museum before the war, behaved according to 
specification, that the remarkable nature of Eotvos' achievement began to 
be appreciated here in this country. Truly Eotvos could claim in 1896,^ 
following eight years' work, and only a year after the publication of Boys' 
paper, that the extreme sensitivity of the methods he had invented for 
measuring the space variation of gravitational fields had enabled him to 
attack problems hitherto deemed to be unassailable. 

Even now I do not think it is well enough understood how small were 
the effects which Eotvos measured under the unfavourable conditions of 
field work. At the present day very fine measurement is common 
enough, usually by methods of electrical amplification which have become 
available ; but it may be well to place on record again what Eotvos did 
forty years ago without such aids. We can illustrate this in a very striking 
way. The earth's gravitational field, even apart from local irregularities, 
is not uniform, or, rather, spherically symmetrical. Owing mainly to 

' Proc. Phys. Soc, vol. 35, pp. 151, 204. 

2 Annalen der Physik, vol. 59, p. 354. ' Die ausserst empfindlichen Methoden, 
die ich besonders zur Messung der raumlichen Variationen dieser Krafte ersonnen 
habe, machten es mSglich, mich solchen Aufgaben zuzuwenden, die bislang fiir 
unangreifbar gehalten vverden durften." 


the earth's rotation, the apparent value of the gravitational intensity 
increases in passing from equator to pole. The total change is about 
5 cm. /sec.-, and the maximum rate of horizontal variation is at latitude 45". 
In this region the change of g for a step of one metre northv^'ards is 
8 X 10"^ cm. /sec. 2, or, approximately, only one thousand millionth of 
the gravitational acceleration. This the Eotvos torsion balance, even 
in its early forms,^ was capable of indicating definitely, being several 
times as large as the limit to which the instrument would respond. And 
the measurement could be made with the instrument occupying a single 
position in a space of less than a square metre, simply by making observa- 
tions with the apparatus as a whole in a number of different azimuths. 
When we compare this with what is possible in the measurement of 
gravity by ordinary pendulum methods, we see how great a step Eotvos 
made. By timing a standard portable pendulum, with all the precautions 
and corrections usually employed, variations of g of, perhaps, one part 
in a million can be detected. Eotvos, in effect, multiplied by a thousand 
the accuracy of measurement of terrestrial gravity variations. 

This remarkable sensitivity was secured by deliberately excluding 
gravity itself from exercising any control in the instrument, which was 
constructed so as to respond only to variations of the gravitational field. 
The same is true with regard to Boys' apparatus, where the small forces 
of gravitational attraction between lead and gold spheres are balanced, 
not against any component of terrestrial gravity, but against the elastic 
torsion in the suspending fibre of quartz. The principle in both was, 
of course, not new ; and we ought accordingly to spare some of the 
credit for the Rev. John Michell, who, towards the end of the eighteenth 
century, proposed and began to construct the first apparatus of the torsion 
balance type. He died before being able to carry out his plans, but his 
apparatus, with certain modifications and improvements, became the 
instrument with which Cavendish made the first laboratory measurement 
of the constant of gravitation. 

Eotvos adopted the same principle in his torsion balance. By the use 
of suitable suspending wires he obtained the necessary sensitivity, and 
he secured protection against the spurious influences of air convection by 
proper design of the enclosure. He also extended the functions of the 
apparatus by arranging in an appropriate manner the distribution of the 
masses in the suspended beam. It would take too long to describe the 
instrument, and at the same time do justice to those used in other branches 
of geophysical sui-veying. It must suffice here to indicate that the 
Eotvos torsion balance provides means of measuring, normally by 
observations of the changes of torsion accompanying changes of azimuth 
of the instrument as a whole, two properties of the local gravitational field, 
each having magnitude and direction. The magnitude of the first, for 
which a satisfactory name has not yet been devised — the ' horizontale 

^ There have been many newer forms designed and constructed by various 
inventors since this date. For example, photographic and automatic recording 
has been successfully introduced, and there have been improvements in the 
details of construction. These modifications cannot be discussed here. It is 
worthy of note that, among modern instruments, those produced by Suss of 
Budapest, the firm which made the earliest models, are still in the first Tank. 


Richtkraft ' according to Eotvos — is the product g{ci — c^), where 
Ci and C2 are the greatest and least curvatures of the local ' level ' or 
equipotential gravitational surface ; its direction is horizontal and in the 
vertical plane of least downward curvature. The suspension in the 
instrument responds to this curvature difference in so far as the mass- 
distribution in the beam partakes of the nature of a Coulomb beam — i.e. 
in its simplest form two equal heavy masses at the ends of a light hori- 
zontal rod. Such a beam would have no tendency to turn horizontally if 
the level surface were truly spherical ; but otherwise it would, if free to 
do so, set itself along the direction of least downward curvature. 

The other departure from gravitational uniformity which the balance 
measures is the gravity gradient, or the rate of change of the vertical 
gravitational intensity with horizontal distance in the direction in which 
the change is greatest. It is a vector, and both its magnitude and direc- 
tion can be obtained from the instrumental observations. The response 
in this case is due to the unsymmetrical vertical distribution of the 
masses in the beam, the effective mass on one side of the suspending 
wire being lower than that on the other. This causes the beam to tend 
to set with the lower mass pointing in the direction of the gravity gradient, 
and there is torsion in the suspension if the beam occupies any other 

It will be seen, I think, without further elaboration, that in any given 
location of the instrument there are, in effect, two differential ' fields ' 
acting simultaneously upon it. Its reaction to them provides the means 
of measuring the particular gravitational distortions which they represent. 
This part of the work is pure physical measurement of a straightforward 
character, and attaining, as I have indicated, a surprising degree of 
precision. It is in the interpretation of the results that the real difiiculties 
arise. The problem is to ascertain to what extent the gravitational 
irregularities measured are due to density differences in the buried struc- 
ture, and to assign to the latter a position and shape consistent with the 
observations. In country where the surface is otherwise than virtually 
horizontal it is necessary to survey its irregularities, and make calculated 
allowances for their contribution to the total measured gravitational 
distortion. This topographical effect may indeed sometimes be so large 
in comparison with that of hidden structure as to render gravitational 
surveying ineffective. The earth's rotational effect, of course, has always 
to be eliminated, but this presents no difficulty. What remains after these 
corrections constitutes the data for geophysical interpretation ; and this 
is the stage where the geologist's ' selection rules ' have to be applied. 
As in all geophysical methods, interpretation is necessarily indirect. 
Underground structures, agreeable to the geologist's experience, have to 
be taken as hypotheses, and tested by calculation and comparison with 
the data provided by surface observations. 

The most important example of successful application of gravity sur- 
veying is in the detection of salt domes, and in the determination of their 
depth and extent. The first survey of this kind, in 1918, provides a 
striking illustration of the way in which geological knowledge has generally 
to be used in combination with the physical measurements, in order tp 


secure the proper interpretation. Much to the surprise of the observers, 
the gravity gradients found in the neighbourhood of the salt dome pointed 
towards it, whereas the relatively low density of salt, in comparison with 
that of the earth in which it was embedded, led to the expectation of 
a minimum of gravity directly above the dome. The explanation of the 
paradox lay in the recognition of the possibility of the existence of a cap 
rock, or shell of relatively high density anhydrite, covering the salt in the 
dome. Close to the dome this nearer material was the predominant 
factor, and produced a gravitational attraction ; it was only at greater 
distances, where the great bulk of the deeper salt more than compensated 
for its depth, that apparent gravitational repulsion was actually observed. 
I have, rather regretfully, to leave at this stage this part of my subject. 
My recent practical experience with torsion balances has aroused in me 
the greatest admiration for the work of the original inventor and his 
successors, and for the skill and precision with which most of these 
remarkable instruments have been constructed by the makers. It comes 
as something of a shock, even though we do not doubt the universal law 
of gravitation, to see for the first time a small mass of gold being attracted 
by a neighbouring lead sphere a few inches in diameter. With a torsion 
balance at our disposal the same becomes commonplace, and is indi- 
cative of the great power of these instruments for geophysical purposes. 
Accumulated evidence from the field confirms this view. There is 
convincing proof that extensive underground features, such as the salt 
domes mentioned, limestone anticlines and synclines, rock faults, and 
deposits of hematite or of brown coal, produce, if not too deeply buried 
or masked by complicating irregularities, gravitational disturbances 
large enough to lead to their delineation by means of the torsion balance. 

The Seismic Method. 
The seismic method of prospecting began to be used about 19 19, 
chiefly owing to the initiative of Mintrop. To some degree it has replaced 
the gravitational method, on account of the greater speed with which it 
enables a given area to be surveyed — a most important economic criterion, 
of course. But there are other important reasons why, under certain 
conditions, it must be preferred. If, for example, the topography of the 
country is too irregular for the corresponding corrections to be applied 
reliably to torsion balance observations, gravity surveying is excluded ; 
and seismic work, which is not so sensitive to surface conditions, may still 
prove of value. Again, the structure to be determined may itself settle 
the choice of method. For instance, if the problem were to determine 
the depth of a horizontal interface of discontinuity between two strata of 
very great extent, the torsion balance would not find anything to measure ; 
the seismic method, on the contrary, would be confronted, as we shall 
see, with its most direct and simplest task. But while admitting these 
undoubted advantages, and recognising the many notable successes of 
seismic surveying under suitable conditions, it is necessary to state that 
this method does not yet rest on so sure a theoretical foundation as the 
law of gravitation ; nor do the portable seismographs employed give 
records so unambiguous as the readings of the torsion balance. 


The basis of the seismic method is the same as that underlying the 
investigations of the propagation of earthquake shocks in relation to the 
determination of the structure of the earth's crust. The difference is 
only one of degree. Artificial and controlled explosions replace the 
sporadic natural shocks, and, although the detonation of perhaps a ton of 
gelignite may be spectacular and dangerous enough, it is trivial compared 
with the natural disturbances occurring, even in England. The distances 
involved are also correspondingly small. But in so far as there is a theory 
of natural earthquake propagation, it serves also for the seismic method 
of geophysical prospecting. In trying to determine the depth of an under- 
ground stratum the most direct method of attack would be to measure, 
if possible , the time of travel of a particular disturbance from the surface 
to the interface and back to the surface after reflection. A knowledge of 
the velocity of propagation in the upper medium only would then give 
the depth required. This method has been used with great success in 
determining the depth of the ocean by means of the Admiralty echo- 
sounding machine. But it fails in application to the solid earth, for the 
reason that the attenuation of vibrations with distance is far greater in the 
earth than in the sea ; consequently much larger initial disturbances 
have to be used — in fact, violent explosions. Even if — as ought always 
to be done for the sake of efficiency — the explosion is arranged so that the 
surface of the ground is not broken, thus eliminating danger to observers, 
the delicate seismographs cannot as yet be properly protected against the 
direct effect. They would thus be so greatly disturbed as to mask com- 
pletely the onset of the small reflected disturbance arriving shortly after. 
This effect, indeed, persists to a less but still important degree even when 
the seismograph is removed to quite large distances from the explosion. 
It is true that some important results have been obtained by employing 
this so-called reflection method, but the reading of the records is a matter 
of considerable uncertainty, owing to the difficulty of identifying the time 
of onset of the reflected disturbance in the midst of the effect of that 
propagated directly. For, in the first place, we have no means of knowing 
the precise form of the initial motion arising from the explosion, or the 
manner in which the form changes during propagation. And, secondly, 
none of the portable seismographs at present available record with com- 
plete accuracy the disturbances which reach them : all, to a greater or 
less degree, display resonance at certain frequencies, and thus treat 
preferentially corresponding components of the motion to which they 
are subjected. This uncertainty has led to the more general adoption of 
a method, properly called the diffraction method, although the adjective 
* refraction ' is sometimes incorrectly used. Its great advantage is that 
it enables the inevitably feeble disturbances, which have penetrated to 
and through the lower medium, to reach the seismograph, under certain 
conditions, in advance of the much greater direct wave. Consequently 
the times of arrival of these indirect, or diffracted, disturbances are re- 
corded unmistakably upon the seismogram, however much the instrument 
may be agitated later on. 

The theoretical basis of this method has been worked out in a partial 
manner only. Let us take in illustration the simplest possible case, 


namely, that of two horizontal strata in which the velocities of propagation 
of longitudinal disturbances are v^ in the upper and v^ in the lower 
stratum. The condition that V2 is greater than v-^^ is essential to the 
method. From the point of view oi plane wave propagation the limiting 
ray-path would be from the upper surface to the interface, incidence 
upon which would be at the critical angle 0, given by sin = v^^jv^, then 
horizontally in the lower medium just grazing the interface, with final 
emergence, also at the critical angle, into the upper medium to reach the 
surface again. The first and last parts of the path would be at the 
velocity v^^ ; the intermediate part would be at the higher velocity v^. 
Assuming, for the moment, that this represents the path of a real and 
finite disturbance, it is easy to see that while, at short ranges, the direct 
disturbance travelling close to the upper surface will reach the seismo- 
graph first, at sufficiently great distances the reverse will be true. The 
indirect disturbance, having in part of its path the advantage of the higher 
velocity in the lower medium, overtakes the direct one which travels all 
the time in the upper medium with the lesser speed. It spurts, as it were, 
and is thus able to cover a longer total distance in the same, or even less, 
time: And if we can measure the instants of arrival of the initial dis- 
turbance at various distances from the source, including ranges great 
enough for the indirect disturbance to arrive first, we have at our disposal 
means of calculating, by very simple geometry, the depth of the interface. 
But the indirect path described, if the cori-esponding waves are plane, 
is of no practical interest, because no energy is associated with it ; the 
conditions clearly imply total internal reflection. Yet the fact remains 
that disturbances do reach distant points at times consistent with the course 
indicated. Their appearance in the records of near earthquakes, where 
the sphericity of the layers of the earth's crust is insufficient to account 
for the magnitude of the eff"ects observed, led Jeff'reys * to investigate the 
problem as one of diffraction. He showed on this basis that a small, but 
finite, disturbance of the nature and apparent speed actually observed 
was to be expected. The argument, it is true, was limited to the case of 
two fluids separated by a horizontal interface ; and, strictly, the applica- 
tion to the solid media of the earth's crust still lacks adequate theoretical 
justification. But there is no doubt that experimentally, both in regard 
to natural earthquakes and the seismic prospecting method, the assump- 
tion of similar paths of propagation depending on diffraction has led in 
many cases to reasonably certain determination of sub-surface dis- 
continuities. Moreover, in the solid material of rocks there is more scope 
for the judicious application of the diffraction principle, since transverse 
as well as longitudinal disturbances are propagated, and changes from 
one type to the other may occur at each interface. 

The principles of the method can be readily applied to structures less 
simple than a single horizontal interface ; and the observations obtained 
in the field, plotted on time-distance graphs, enable such features as the 
slopes and curvatures of strata, and the depths of more than one suc- 
cessive bed to be recognised under favourable conditions. For success 
the principal requirement is a large velocity-ratio as between the rocks 
* Pyoc. Camb. Phil. Soc, vol. 23, p. 472 (1926). 


constituting the various beds. Salt domes under alluvial deposits, for 
example, are in this respect suitable structures, and the location of many 
such domes was the first achievement of the seismic method. It has also 
been employed with valuable results in determining the underground 
contours of limestone anticlines and deep-seated granitic basements at 
depths of several thousand feet. We may notice that the method is rarely,, 
if ever, able to reveal directly the presence of the mineral actually sought. 
It does not find oil as such, for example, but it may discover those rock 
structures with which there is a high probability of oil being associated. 
For the essential knowledge of such associations applied geophysics 
depends on geology. 

Concerning the portable seismographs and time recorders which are 
the tools of the method, I must here be content with remarking that many 
ingenious instruments have been made available latterly in this country 
as well as abroad. Most of them record the displacements of the earth's 
surface at the place where the instrument is located ; a few record the 
velocity, as in the Galitzin seismograph. There are claims too, rather 
shrouded in secrecy, of the successful use of accelerometers. I mention 
this because it seems to me that this is the direction we ought to pursue 
in future developments. The diffracted disturbance, calculated by 
Jeffreys, begins with zero displacement and zero velocity, but its initial 
acceleration is finite. Consequently such disturbances may be expected 
to display much sharper and precisely determinable onsets in the record 
if this is of acceleration instead of either displacement or velocity. Greater 
accuracy of timing would thus be secured, leading to more precision in 
the results ; probably, also, smaller and less expensive explosive charges 
would be required. The application of piezo-electricity ^ obviously 
suggests itself. 

The Magnetic Method. 
We pass now to the magnetic method. In actual practice it is the 
simplest and least costly. It consists of measuring, with suitable portable 
magnetometers, local variations of components of the earth's magnetic 
field, usually the vertical and horizontal intensities. The instruments 
which have been designed for the purpose enable observations to be made 
quickly, so that a large number of stations can be occupied, and a wide 
area covered, in the course of a single day. Under suitable conditions, 
therefore, much information regarding underground structure may be 
obtained by means of a survey lasting only a relatively short time and 
involving comparatively little expense. But it should be pointed out that 
this apparent economy has sometimes led to the method being employed 
on problems for which it is at present unsuitable, and to claims being made 
as to its performance which are doubtful. It is necessary to bear in mind 
that the basis of magnetic surveying is the differentiation of rocks in 
respect of magnetic susceptibility, and the consequent discontinuities of 

^Prince Galitzin in 1915 described an apparatus depending on piezo-elec- 
tricity for the direct measurement of accelerations, and subsequent investigators 
have used the method also ; but seismographs of this type do not seem to have 
come into common use, at any rate as portable instruments. 


magnetisation under the influence of the earth's general magnetic field. 
For the field distortion thereby produced at the earth's surface to be 
marked it is necessary for the responsible rock structure to have a large 
susceptibility ; this implies that only highly ferruginous rocks will be easy 
to find. No difficulty, for example, presented itself in the case of the great 
magnetic anomaly at Koursk, where two elongated deposits of magnetite, 
totalling 20 billion tons, and several hundred feet deep, produce, over 
a region of many square miles, prodigiously large variations'^ of all the 
terrestrial magnetic elements. For this survey the magnetic method 
was eminently suitable, and comparatively insensitive instruments served. 
Ore-bodies of similar magnetic material, but of much smaller dimensions, 
give rise to anomalies less marked but still unmistakable. Thus deposits 
of ilmenite and pyrrhotite, as well as magnetite, if not too deeply buried in 
relation to their size, can be both detected and located with considerable 
precision by simple magnetic measurements. 

I do not mean to imply that the magnetic method of surveying is limited 
to the detection of ore-bodies of this kind. Igneous rocks generally, and 
particularly basalt, may contain considerable quantities of iron, and 
consequently possess an eifective magnetic susceptibility much larger 
than non-ferrous materials. There is abundant evidence that structures 
of such rocks have been determined, under favourable conditions, by 
the use of magnetic variometers. Moreover, in recent years these instru- 
ments have been much improved in sensitivity, so that, at any rate 
nominally, they are capable of measuring variations of about 5y only in 
the vertical or horizontal force. This development is bringing within the 
field of applicability of the magnetic method even sedimentary formations 
only slightly ferruginous, if due care is taken to make corrections which 
are unnecessary where the anomalies are great. But I should, neverthe- 
less, reject the claims, which have sometimes been made, to have used 
present-day instruments to locate salt domes by reason of the diamag- 
netism of rock salt. In fact, the conclusion seems inevitable that the 
susceptibilities, whether positive or negative, of materials not within the 
ferro-magnetic class are too small to be responsible for field distortions 
at present measurable with portable instruments. Variation in the iron 
content of rocks has been the origin of the anomalies so far observed. 

If we are to hope to bring within the scope of the magnetic method 
non-ferruginous underground formations, we must improve greatly the 
sensitivity of the instruments, and at the same time exclude the operation 
of certain disturbing factors. It is little use rendering apparatus more 
sensitive if this involves enhancing also corrections of an uncertain 
character. The chief difficulty with the variometers at present available 
is the application of the corrections for diurnal variation of the earth's 
field and for temperature changes. A certain degree of sensitivity having 
been achieved by balancing the control of the normal earth's field against 

' The vertical anomaly has a maximum of about 2 gauss ; the horizontal 
field has both positive and negative values ranging over about i • 3 gauss, and 
the declination, accordingly, varies from 0° to ± 180°. These effects are larger 
than could be attributed to the magnetisation of the magnetite under the in- 
fluence of the earth's present field. The deposit has strong permanent magnetism 
derived in a way not known. 


a control suitably imposed by gravity, by elastic torsion, or by an artificial 
magnet, the daily variations of the earth's field, amounting to as much 
as 35Y, make themselves manifest. Temperature changes also, by causing 
variations of dimensions, elasticity or magnetic moment, disturb the 
balance, and thus affect the observations to an extent corresponding to 
15Y per degree centigrade. Moreover, where, as is most usually the case, 
the method of mounting the indicating magnet is on knife edges, friction 
adds uncertainty of the order of 5y. If we could escape the necessity of 
applying the corrections which these important effects involve, we should 
feel much safer in attaching significance to anomalies only a few times 
larger than the limit of measurement of the apparatus. 

A year ago I thought I saw the way to do this, and brought the pro- 
posed method to the notice of this Section. It was to make use of the 
essential principle which gives to the Eotvos gravity balance its extra- 
ordinary sensitivity, namely, to measure the space-variation only of the 
forces in question. I found later that Eotvos himself had worked on these 
lines, and actually constructed an instrument partially fulfilling the con- 
ditions ; although it is not clear that he realised the full significance of 
complete success. I have to confess that unexpected practical difficulties 
of construction have so far prevented realisation, but I have not given up 
hope that a magnetic instrument can be constructed to operate in the same 
way as the proved gravity instrument. Accordingly it may be worth 
while to indicate what a device of this kind might be expected to achieve. 
Also, if I present the difficulties, perhaps someone more able than myself 
may show how to surmount them. 

The chief virtue of such a magnetic torsion balance is that it would 
discriminate between time-variatioji and space-variation of the earth's 
magnetic field. The variation with time of a magnetic field remaining 
spatially uniform would not affect it ; it would respond only to a sufficient 
distortion in space. (Even if this distinction of space and time is repugnant 
to relativity, it is practically of real importance.) Calculation shows that 
with the magnets and suspending wires now available we could anticipate 
an instrument which would be just about sensitive enough to respond, 
in the average magnetic latitude, to the non-uniformity "^ of the earth's 
main field. The additional lack of uniformity arising from diurnal 
variations, or even magnetic storms, is by comparison small, because the 
amplitude of the variations is only a small fraction of the total field, and 
they are very widespread in character ; consequently they would fail to 
disturb the instrument appreciably. We should therefore be able to 
attribute the distortion observed solely to local magnetic features, apart 
from a nearly negligible correction for general earth's magnetism. The 
effect of changes of temperature also would be comparatively small, for 

' I.e. the non-uniformity implied by the change in the resultant intensity 
from about 064 gauss vertically at the magnetic poles to about 0-32 gauss 
horizontally at the magnetic equator. 

Unlike the gravitational ' horizontale Richtkraft ' of Eotvos, its magnetic 
equivalent turns out to be zero everywhere on the surface of a uniformly mag- 
netised earth. But the analogue of the gravity gradient, i.e. the northerly 
gradient of the earth's vertical intensity, is zero at the magnetic poles only ; 
it has its maximum value, about 1-5 x io~° gauss/cm., at the magnetic equator. 


they would be proportional to the variation of field intensity over the 
limited space occupied by the suspended system, instead of to the full 
intensity at the station. In the gravity torsion balance they are, in fact, 
negligible, and they could be made equally so here. 

In order to realise in a magnetic torsion balance the full advantages of 
the corresponding gravity instrument, we must make the magnet system 
in the suspension completely astatic, so that, in a precisely uniform field, no 
couple acts upon it. It is here that the practical difficulties of construction 
present themselves. The polar nature of magnetism, as contrasted with 
gravitation, added to the fact that the earth's magnetic field is not every- 
where nearly vertical, demands a precision of construction which may be 
unattainable. For example , to reduce to negligible proportions the directive 
action of a horizontal magnetic intensity of o • 1 8 gauss upon a suspension 
of the Coulomb balance type, we should require two magnets equal, and 
remaining equal, in moment to within one part in a hundred million, and 
with their magnetic axes aligned in opposite directions with an accuracy 
of one-hundredth of a second of arc. The conditions applying to an 
instrument ^ for measuring only the horizontal gradient of vertical inten- 
sity are not, however, so severe and unpromising, and it is in this direction 
that there appears to me to lie hope of practical realisation. One magnet 
only is required, suspended with its magnetic axis nearly vertical from one 
end of a torsion balance beam, and suitably counterbalanced by a non- 
magnetic load at the other end. This is, indeed, a modification of the 
form used by Eotvos, which he operated with partial but not complete 
success. The outstanding difficulties to be overcome relate to the elimina- 
tion of the effects of torsion in the fibre used to suspend the magnet from 
the beam arm. If this can be done we shall have, as indicated earlier, 
means of extending greatly the scope of the magnetic method of surveying. 

Electrical Methods. 
I have left until last reference to electrical methods, not because they 
are of less importance, but because I am less familiar with them, and could 
not speak with any of the authority which comes from practical experience. 
Accordingly I shall use this opportunity of calling special attention to the 
work of the Imperial Geophysical Experimental Survey ^ which operated 
in Australia from 1928 to 1930. This survey, under the leadership of 
Mr. Broughton Edge, whose extensive experience of electrical surveying is 
well known, was concerned chiefly with electrical investigations. Until its 
work began, although it required no great insight to recognise that the 
basis of electrical surveying was the differences of the electrical conduc- 
tivity of underground bodies, and that the procedure was to measure 

* The equivalent of the gravity gradiometer, a modification of the Eotvos 
torsion balance, due to Shaw and Lancaster- Jones. See Mining Magazine, 
May 1929. 

^ The survey was instituted as a result of the suggestion of the Geophysical 
Sub-Committee of the Committee of Civil Research, and was carried out under 
the joint auspices of the British Empire Marketing Board and the Australian 
Commonwealth Government. The report, ' The Principles and Practice of 
Geophysical Prospecting," was published in 1931 (Cambridge University Press). 


direct or alternating current distribution in the earth's surface, or the 
impHed electromagnetic eflfects just above the surface, the details of the 
methods employed were shrouded in mystery. 1° The report of the survey 
has lifted the veil, and the aims of the Committee of Civil Research, in 
suggesting this systematic research in the field, have been to a large extent 
realised. We find the various methods fully described, some of them 
having been devised and applied for the first time during the survey. 
The difficulties and limitations, as well as the successes, are made plain, 
and the conditions determining the choice of the most suitable methods 
for particular problems are indicated clearly. It is, I think, no exaggera- 
tion to say that the report is the most comprehensive and authoritative 
treatment available of the subject of electrical surveying. 

The Future of Geophysical Surveying. 

Much, however, remains to be done in all branches of geophysical 
surv'eying, in order to put it on a more secure basis and to determine more 
certainly the scope of its applications. It must be confessed that until 
quite recently practically all the work was being done by German investi- 
gators, both in the construction and improvements of instruments, and 
in their use in the field. But some interest has now been awakened in 
this country, and considerable progress has been made in enabling us 
to take an increasingly active part in the investigations. It would be a 
pity to let this interest and activity die — yet that is the danger. Unfortu- 
nately, in scientific undertakings, whether national or commercial, we 
have not yet adopted one of the fundamental principles of the family, 
when the call is everywhere, as now, for economy. Not the full-grown 
and robust, but the newly-born and undeveloped, first feels the pinch. 
And, if the infant has a particularly large appetite, or needs special and 
expensive nourishment, proper provision is more than ever likely to be 
withheld. In such a situation geophysical surveying finds itself just now. 
By its nature the work is necessarily costly. Except as regards some 
aspects of the construction and improvements of instruments it cannot 
be confined to a laboratory ; and, with the same limitation, it can rarely 
be an individual effort. Effective research in the field implies adequate 
scientific personnel, transport, labour and materials, in addition to the 
instrumental equipment. If we are to make substantial progress in this 
direction the expense must be faced. 

I recognise that it would be foolish, as well as useless, to press now for 
the initiation of any costly schemes. But it is permissible to hope and 

'" The Report of the Sub-Committee of the Committee of Civil Research on 
Geophysical Surveying (H.M. Stationery Office, 1927) contains this passage : 
' In particular, the electrical method has throughout been treated, by the com- 
panies employing it, as a jealously-guarded secret trade process. In the result, 
little information is available to the general scientific world regarding the methods 
employed . . . the apparatus required, the field operations, or the interpretation 
of results. We believe that ... a full disclosure of the scientific facts would 
tend, more than anything else, to stimulate the natural development of this 
method of geophysical surveying, by placing it on a scientific footing, similar 
to that of the gravimetric method.' 


believe that the subject will not be completely neglected in these difficult 
times. We can occupy the lean years in making ourselves more familiar 
with what is already known, and in conducting new investigations on a 
modest scale, as, indeed, is being done at South Kensington by the 
Imperial College with the assistance of the Department of Scientific and 
Industrial Research. Then, when the fat years come, and the mining 
industries again call for the help of geophysicists, we shall be found, at 
least, not wholly unprepared. 




DR. W. H. MILLS, F.R.S., 


It is many years since the opening address to this Section was devoted to 
the subject of Stereochemistry. I think, therefore, that it might be useful 
at this present time to consider some of the problems connected with 
molecular configuration and review them in the light of present knowledge. 

Looking back on the history of stereochemistry we can distinguish a 
succession of well-marked phases in its development. 

There was the initial phase, Pasteur's discovery of Icevo tartaric acid, 
his consequent recognition that every optically active substance must 
have its antipode, and his establishment of the doctrine of molecular 

The theory of van 't Hojff and Le Bel of the relation between molecular 
dissymmetry and structure in carbon compounds marked the beginning 
of a second phase. It originated soon after the structure theory had 
developed sufficiently to provide an adequate basis for it. In the form 
in which it was presented by van 't Hoff — the theory of the tetrahedral 
distribution of the valencies of the carbon atom — it provided a frame- 
work into which we have been able to fit practically all that we know of 
the stereochemistry of carbon. For the ensuing quarter of a century 
stereochemical progress was largely made up of applications of the theory 
of the asymmetric carbon atom, and the conception still retains its 

A new stage was marked by Pope's discovery that the valencies of 
other elements besides carbon had sufficient configurational stability to 
give rise to mirror-image isomerism, and a further advance was attained 
when Werner brought within the scope of stereochemical investigation 
those complex compounds of the transitional elements which at that 
time seemed to lie outside the domain of the ordinary laws of valency. 

By the optical resolution of compounds of this class he established the 
theory of co-ordination and at the same time demonstrated the association 
of the co-ordination number 6 with octahedral configuration. 

The rule of the asymmetric carbon atom had provided so simple and 
reliable a guide to indicate when molecular dissymmetry was to be 
expected in carbon compounds, and the number of stereomers corre- 
sponding with a given molecular structure could be so simply determined 
with its aid that a certain tendency had arisen among organic chemists to 
think too much in terms of asymmetric atoms and lose sight of the more 


fundamental principles on which the conception was based. A stage of 
some importance in the development of stereochemistry was therefore 
marked by the synthesis, by Perkin and Pope, and the subsequent resolu- 
tion of methylryc/ohexylideneacetic acid, for this was the first representa- 
tive to be synthesised of a type of compounds, bearing a certain con- 
figurational relationship to allene, in which it is clearly more natural to 
consider the dissymmetry of the molecule as a whole than to refer it to 
the presence of an asymmetric atom. 

The present period is one that has been marked by particularly notable 
advances. On the one hand , progress in molecular physics and in crystallo- 
graphy has given us a knowledge of atomic dimensions and of the configura- 
tion of simple molecules and ions which, as far as we can see, could never 
have been obtained by the methods of classical stereochemistry. It is 
the progress thus attained which chiefly distinguishes the present period 
from those that have gone before. 

During this same period the more purely chemical methods of investi- 
gation of molecular configuration have also been yielding results of great 
interest, some of them in directions in which advances had been quite 

We have only to recall the discovery of molecular dissymmetry in the 
diphenyl series dependent on the restriction of rotation about a single 
bond, the discovery of optically active sulphinic esters and sulphoxides, 
and of optically active salts of nitroparaffins, the determination of the true 
configuration of aldoximes and ketoximes and the demonstration of the 
non-planar strainless character of six- and higher-membered alicyclic rings 
to see how far from being exhausted is the usefulness of the methods of 
classical stereochemistry. 

The electronic theory of valency, which was one of the first-fruits of 
the application of the new knowledge of atomic structure to chemical 
problems, has greatly increased the clearness of our ideas of the various 
types of chemical combination, and the octet rule in particular has enabled 
us to gain a fuller understanding of the constitution of many atomic 

The octet theory has not only led to a greatly increased clearness in 
our views of the nature of valency. We have only to supplement it by 
a simple three-dimensional interpretation and it serves also to indicate 
the relative directions of the valencies in space. 

If we consider the general results of the stereochemical investigation of 
compounds in which we have to infer that a central atom is associated 
with an octet of electrons corresponding with the electron group of highest 
principal quantum number in the succeeding inert gas, we find it clearly 
indicated that there is something in the arrangement of this octet which 
is related to a tetrahedral configuration. 

If this octet really does correspond with that of the inert gas, it is what 
we might expect if the orbits of the electrons constituting the inert gas 
octet might in certain circumstances be related to a tetrahedral system 
of axes. 

The tridimensional extension of the octet theory can be simply 
represented, of course in a purely diagrammatic manner, by placing the 


four pairs of dots, by which the four pairs of electrons of the octet are 
indicated, at the four angles of a tetrahedron concentric with the atom 
under consideration. The diagram will then indicate that another atom 
linked by a given pair of electrons will be situated on the axis through the 
corresponding angle of the tetrahedron. 

Fig. I. 

There is little doubt that atoms are deformable, and we have clear 
evidence that valencies can be deflected. We can therefore only expect 
the tetrahedron to be a regular tetrahedron when the central atom is 
linked to four other atoms and these are all alike. The tetrahedral octet 
will therefore only indicate the general character of the configuration of 
the compounds represented with its aid ; it cannot be expected to predict 
accurate values of intervalency angles. Subject to this limitation there 
is, as far as I am aware, no established fact relating to the stereochemistry 
of compounds formed in accordance with the octet rule which is at variance 
with the indications of this tridimensional diagram. 

Where in such compounds we have to infer the presence of two- 
electron links only, then we find invariably that a four-co-ordinate atom 
has a tetrahedral configuration, a three-co-ordinate atom a pyramidal, 
and a two-co-ordinate atom an angular configuration. This is illustrated 
by the configurations of methane, ammonia and water. 

Fig. 2. 

The compounds of four-co-ordinate nickel, platinum and palladium, 
for which there is much evidence for a planar configuration, evidently do 
not come within the scope of this rule. The effective atomic numbers 
of these metals in such compounds are each two short of the atomic 
numbers of the succeeding inert gas. The three-co-ordinate compounds 
of the elements of the third group of the periodic table likewise lie outside 


the scope of the rule. An effective atomic number corresponding with 
the succeeding inert gas is, however, clearly not a necessary condition for 
a tetrahedral octet, as is shown, for example, by the tetrahedral configura- 
tion of the permanganate ion. 

Where the presence of four-electron links is to be inferred, the rule 
similarly correctly indicates the configuration. Thus carbon dioxide, 
according to the rule, should be a linear compound, and its infra-red 
spectrum and zero di-pole moment indicate that it has in fact this 

The value of the stereochemical indications given by the octet rule is 
well illustrated by a comparison of some of the compounds of sulphur 
with compounds to which, until comparatively recently, chemists were 
in the habit of attributing similar constitutions. Thus, application of the 
rule shows at once that sulphur dioxide will not correspond in configuration 
with carbon dioxide. In sulphur dioxide one oxygen atom, according to 

Sulphur dioxide. Sulphinic Ester. 

Fig. 3. 

the octet rule, must be bound by a four-electron link, the other by a 
two-electron link to the sulphur. The tridimensional octet indicates that 
sulphur dioxide must then have an angular configuration with an angle 
between the lines joining the sulphur and the oxygen centres which, if 
the tetrahedron were regular, would be 125-5° ; ^^id, as is well known, 
the large molecular di-pole moment and the indications of the infra-red 
spectrum of sulphur dioxide show that its configuration must in fact 
be angular. Again, the analogy of the sulphite ion in configuration to 
the chlorate ion, both of which according to the results of X-ray examina- 
tion are pyramidal structures, and its difference from the planar carbonate 
ion is very clearly shown and on the basis of the octet rule could easily 
have been predicted. 

I believe the highly interesting discovery by Phillips, some seven or 
eight years ago, of the molecular dissymmetry of the sulphinic esters 
came as a complete surprise to chemists, for the common practice had 
been to assign to these compounds a constitution analogous to that 
attributed to the carboxylic esters. In a similar way the sulphoxides were 
generally given formula5 corresponding with those of the ketones until 
Kenyon and Phillips showed that sulphoxides of appropriate constitution 
could be resolved into optical antimers. 


Had the confidence then existed in the octet theory and its stereo- 
chemical impHcation that we have since acquired, the pyramidal configura- 
tion of the three-co-ordinate sulphur in these compounds could have 
been most easily predicted. 

A comparison of the sulphoxides with the N-ethers of the oximes is 
possibly not without interest, since it shows that the presence of a 

R Ri 

■0 y^'^^ 

R R 

co-ordinate (or semipolar) link is not in itself sufficient to produce a 
pyramidal configuration. In the oxime ether the nitrogen atom and 
the three atoms directly attached to it are evidently co-planar. 

Very considerable interest attaches to the possibility of the existence 
of compounds of tri-co-valent carbon of pyramidal configuration. The 
triaryl alkyl compounds of the alkali-metals in all probability contain 


the anion R : C : If this is so, this ion must certainly be pyramidal, and 

hence molecularly dissymmetric when the three aryl radicals are different, 
but it is not possible at present to predict how stable the antimeric con- 
figurations would be. However, questions of considerably greater 
theoretical impoitance centre about another type of compounds in which 
there seems reason to infer the presence of a pyramidal tri-co-valent carbon 
atom of marked configurational stability. 

When Hantzsch discovered the aci-fonn of phenylnitromethane he 
appeared to have obtained exceedingly strong evidence of the correctness 
of Michael's formula for the sodium salts of the nitroparafiins. There 
seemed little doubt that the aci-iorm of a secondary nitroparaflin had the 
constitution which in modern symbols we should represent as : 


R O 

In a compound of this structure the > C = N < group and the four 
atoms directly attached to it would evidently lie in one plane. The 
remarkable discovery by R. Kuhn and Albrecht that optically active 
methylethylnitromethane retained its activity when converted into its 
sodium salt showed therefore that the Michael formula could not 
possibly be right. 

With Mr. H. Cole I have recently obtained confirmation of Kuhn 
and Albrecht 's discovery. We have been able to prove that the ac/-form 
of phenylcyanonitromethane is molecularly dissymmetric, since we find 
that the compound can be resolved with alkaloids in the ordinary way. 
When the brucine salt is converted into the sodium salt a strongly 
optically active solution is obtained. The activity of the sodium salt 

c 2 



seems to be quite stable at the ordinary temperature, but disappears on 
the addition of excess of mineral acid. 

In the present state of knowledge there would appear to be only two 
possible formulae for the aci-iorm of a nitroparaffin which would account 
for the non-planar configuration of the anion thus established. These are : 




-OH and 





>C< N^ 


As Kuhn points out, there are very grave objections to the former of 
these, the cyclic formula. The nitro-bodies themselves are non-reactive ; 
their aci-iorms are highly reactive. As regards their general chemical 
behaviour, the relation between the two forms corresponds very closely 
with that between keto- and enol-desmotropes. The saturated cyclic 
formula for the aci-iorm is in entire disaccordance with the high chemical 
reactivity of the compound. The alternative formula with the tri- 
co-valent carbon atom seems, on the other hand, to be in harmony with 
the chemical behaviour of the acz- modification, as well as in agreement 
with its experimentally established non-planar configuration. It would 
seem therefore that, for the present at any rate, we are bound to accept 
the second formula in spite of the highly unusual feature which it presents 
of the tri-co-valent carbon atom. 

The configuration of the anion is clearly indicated by the tri- 
dimensional octet formula (Fig. 4). The distribution of the ionic charge 




+ e 




Fig. 4. 

is a question of considerable interest. If we were to assume equal sharing 
of the electrons in each of the valency links by which the nitrogen atom 
is bound to the three atoms attached to it, our formula would indicate 
the presence of charges of — e on the carbon and the singly linked oxygen 
atom and one of + e on the nitrogen atom, — e being the electronic 
charge. We know, however, that there will not be equal sharing, and 
the inequality will result in diminishing the negative charges on the carbon 
and the singly linked oxygen. Part of the negative electricity thus re- 


moved will be transferred to the doubly linked oxygen atom, and part will 
go to diminish the positive charge on the nitrogen. We do not know 
what amounts will thus be transferred. It would seem probable, however, 
when we consider the di-pole moment associated with the carbon-oxygen 
link, that the resultant negative charge of the carbon atom would be more 
considerably diminished than that of the singly linked oxygen atom. 

There is an important point which this formula does not make clear. 

The anion can combine with the hydrogen ion either to form the aci- 
modification or to regenerate the true nitro-body, and these processes 
take place with extraordinarily different velocities. 

The former change is part of an ionic equilibrium and will occur with 
the great rapidity characteristic of ionic reactions ; the latter takes place 
so slowly that its course, in favourable cases, can easily be observed. 
It would thus appear that, in the encounters of the nitro-ion with hydrogen 
ions, a considerable proportion of the encounters on the nitro group result 
in combination (since the acidic hydrogen in crystalline phenyl iso- 
nitromethane, for example, is presumably co-valently linked), whilst an 
exceedingly minute proportion of the encounters on the negatively charged 
carbon atom are effective. 

It would, therefore, seem that combination of the hydrogen ion with 
the tri-co-valent carbon atom can only take place under very special 
conditions which rarely occur. It is thus probable that it is only when 
this carbon atom is suitably activated that it is capable of combining with 
a hydrogen ion. 

One of the most striking features of the stereochemistry of the pyra- 
midal tri-co-valent atoms is the great variation in configurational stability 
exhibited by compounds of the different atoms. We may contrast, for 
example , the permanence of the optical activity of dissymmetric sulphonium 
ions with the configurational lability of the tertiary amines, which has 
hitherto prevented the demonstration of their pyramidal configuration 
by the methods of classical stereochemistry, though it is clearly shown 
by the considerable molecular di-pole moments which they possess. 

There are certain evident principles which must affect the stability of 
the molecular configuration determined by the relative valency directions 
of a central atom. 

It is clear that increase in the atomic radius of the central atom should 
diminish configurational stability. It is probably in consequence of this 
that it is so much easier to obtain quaternary ammonium ions in an 
optically active state than the corresponding phosphonium and arsonium 

Again, we should expect that compounds in which the normal valency 
only of the central atom is employed would show greater configurational 
stability than co-ordination compounds, for the reason that in the latter 
the nuclear charge of the central atom is relatively less in comparison 
with the number of electrons it has to control. We may attribute to this 
cause the optical lability of the compounds of four-co-ordinate beryllium, 
which contrasts strongly with the configurational stability of the com- 
pounds of tetravalent carbon. 


It may be noted as a matter of observation that six-co-ordination 
compounds, which are, as far as is known, universally of octahedral 
configuration, are more stable configurationally than tetrahedral four- 
co-ordination compounds. If the movements involved in optical in- 
version in the two types are considered, it is clear that this is what we 
should expect. 

Finally, it would be anticipated that a compound would have a greater 
configurational stability if the central atom had a resultant positive charge 
than if its resultant charge was negative, since the field controlling the 
octet would be stronger in the former case. Perhaps the difference 
between the tertiary amines and the sulphonium compounds is partly to 
be accounted for in this way. 

In the tertiary amines we may infer from the di-pole moment — and the 
length— of the single carbon-to-nitrogen link that the external electro- 
static effect of the nitrogen atom and its associated electrons is equivalent 
approximately to that of a negative charge of o-^e at its centre, while the 
three directly attached carbon atoms have resultant positive charges of 
about o'le. 

In the corresponding sulphonium ions we have similarly to infer the 
existence of positive charges of about 0-65^ on the sulphur atom and 
o-i2e on each of the attached carbon atoms. Thus, whilst there is a 
positive charge on the sulphur in the sulphonium compounds, there is 
a negative charge on the nitrogen in the amines, and the former should 
increase and the latter diminish the stability of the associated octet. 

On the other hand, if the constitution attributed by Kuhn to the salts 
of the nitroparaffins is correct — and, as we have seen, there is good reason 
to think that it is — then in these compounds we have very considerable 
configurational stability of a tri-co-valent atom associated with the 
presence of a negative charge. 

In view of this it is improbable that the difference in optical stability 
between the amines and the sulphonium ions can be wholly attributed to 
a difference in sign of the resultant charge on the central atom, though 
doubtless this has a contributory effect. 

It is interesting to look back on some of the principal difficulties which 
were encountered in interpreting stereochemical phenomena on the basis 
of the older conceptions of valency, and to review them from our present 

Probably the most conspicuous example of these is afforded by the 
problem of the Walden inversion , which Emil Fischer described in 1907 
as being, ' since the fundamental investigations of Pasteur, the most 
surprising observation which had been made in the field of optically 
active compounds.' 

The difficulty of bringing the experimental observations on this in- 
version within the scope of any fixed set of rules is well recognised. 
I think, however, that if we review the evidence at present available, it 
might be interpreted as indicating generally that there is at any rate one 
type of reaction which, taking place at an asymmetric carbon atom, is 
normally accompanied by an inversion of configuration. This type of 


reaction is one that might be described as an ionic interchange, and 
includes such changes as the replacement of halogens by hydroxyl by 
means of aqueous alkalies, or of the arylsulphoxy-group by the acetoxy- 
group by means of alkali metal acetates. 

Closely allied to reactions of this type — and also apparently normally 
associated with an inversion of configuration — are the interactions of 
halogen compounds with ammonia, leading to the formation of a sub- 
stituted ammonium ion and a halogen ion. 

Reactions of these types can be represented with extreme simplicity 
with the aid of the tetrahedral octet, and it is then seen that they would 
naturally be accompanied by an inversion of configuration. 

Let us take as an example of such an interchange of radicals at an 
asymmetric carbon atom the reaction commonly referred to as the 
' replacement of chlorine by the amino-group ' by means of ammonia. 





H ; N : H H : N : H 

■ H H 

Before reaction. After reaction. 

Fig. 5. 

In representing this reaction the experimental facts to which we have 
to give expression are : (i) the asymmetric carbon atom unites with a 
molecule of ammonia, forming a substituted ammonium ion ; (ii) the 
configuration is inverted ; (iii) a chlorine ion is set free. 

In order to represent these three facts with the tetrahedral octet we 
have simply to move the nucleus of the carbon atom away from the 
chlorine and towards the ammonia (suitably situated) through a distance 
of half the height of the tetrahedron. It is a movement analogous to that 
which we have to assume for the nitrogen nucleus in the amines to account 
for the inversion of configuration which these compounds so readily 
undergo. When the essential features of the change can be thus so simply 
and naturally represented, it is difficult to resist the belief that the 
representation corresponds closely with the reality. 

Thermodynamically considered, the reason for the change is to be found 
in the loss of free energy by which it must be attended, and this is the 
same whether the process results in an inversion of configuration or not. 


From this point of view the necessity for the change is independent of 
the particular mechanism by which it may be effected, but different 
mechanisms will bring it about with different velocities. 

There would seem an evident possibility, in these ionic interchanges, 
of the hydroxyl or other anion (or the ammonia) interacting at one of the 
other three faces of the tetrahedron, in which case no inversion of con- 
figuration would ensue. The di-pole moment, which must be associated 
with the link between the carbon atom and the radical which is going to 
be eliminated as an anion, will, however, have a directive effect on the 
attacking anion (or the pofer ammonia molecule), and this will cause the 
probability of approach to be greatest on the opposite face of the 
tetrahedron, especially when the other substituents are relatively in- 
different. Elimination of the ionisable group will also be facilitated 
most when the movement of the nucleus is directly away from it. Thus 
it would appear that the mechanism effecting the change with the greatest 
velocity would be that which produces an inversion of configuration. 

In these ionic interchanges the reaction-mechanism is sufficiently clear 
to enable us to discuss their stereochemical aspect. Reactions such as 
those of phosphorus pentachloride or thionyl chloride on hydroxylic 
substances, or even of moist silver oxide on halogen compounds, are 
evidently more complex, and their mechanism seems at present too 
imperfectly known to justify speculation on the configurational changes 
by which they may or may not be accompanied. 

A phenomenon which was generally regarded, though not with very 
good reason, as closely related to the Walden inversion was that of trans- 
addition at a double bond. The two phenomena had, however, this in 
common, that both showed the inadequacy of the old conception of the 
solid carbon atom with fixed valency poles. The two solid tetrahedra 
attached edge to edge and opening on one angle to allow of the attachment 
of the two addenda gave too crude a picture. 

The ethylenic link is now regarded rather as a unit, formed from two 
pairs of electrons of opposite spins, and possessing torsional rigidity. 
When combination with, for example, a chlorine molecule occurs, two 
electrons of opposite spins are taken to share in binding the two chlorine 
atoms, leaving two, also of opposite spins, to form the single link by which 
the two carbon atoms remain united. 

Experiment shows that this process can take place so as to lead either 
to cis- or to irfi«5-addition, and, since these may occur concurrently, we 
may conclude that, so far as the readjustment of the link is concerned, 
there is no great difference in the facility with which the two types of 
change take place. 

The result appears to be determined partly by the energy relations 
between the possible products, and, since chlorine shows a greater 
tendency to CM-addition than bromine, it is probable that simple mechanical 
factors, such as the distance between the centres of the two atoms to be 
added, have an important effect. It is easy to see that an increase in 
this distance might favour traiis-zddition. 

Closely related to the phenomenon of /?'«K5-addition is that of ^rani- 
elimination. It has long been recognised that in ethylene derivatives the 



^ra«j-elimination of radicals takes place as a rule more readily than 
m-elimination, and more recently evidence has accumulated that this is 
also the case with the aldoximes and their derivatives. 

The assumption which was formerly made that, in a pair of stereo- 
isomeric aldoximes, the isomer which was the less easily dehydrated had 
the hydrogen and hydroxyl on opposite sides of the CN group is almost 
certainly wrong. 

Of the different methods of converting p-benzaldoximes into the cor- 
responding benzonitriles, that which proceeds most smoothly, and is 
probably least obscure in its mechanism, consists in the conversion of 
the oxime into its acetyl derivative and the treatment of this with aqueous 
sodium carbonate. 

. H OH 


Ac • •• 

Before reaction. 

After reaction. 

Fig. 6. 

The elimination of acetic acid from the oxime acetate is a reaction 
which can be very clearly represented with the aid of the tetrahedral 
octet, and with this method of representation it is indicated plainly that 
/raws-elimination should take place more readily than f?V-elimination. 

When the acetyl derivative of the p-oxime is treated with sodium 
carbonate the products are water, benzonitrile, and the acet-ion. The 
components of benzonitrile and of the acet-ion are already present in the 
acetyl derivative, and since both are indifferent towards sodium carbonate 
solution their liberation must take place as a secondary consequence of 
some direct action of the solution on the molecule of the acetyl derivative. 
This is clearly the removal of a proton by union with a hydroxyl ion 
from the alkaline solution to form water. The elimination of acetic 
acid thus consists of a chain of three events, each dependent on the next. 
The first is the removal of the proton. The second is the movement of 
the nitrogen nucleus to bring it into alignment with the phenyl-carbon 


valency. The third, which is the immediate consequence of the second, 
is the liberation of the acet-ion. 

The determining factor which causes the unequal readiness of cis- and 
frflHJ-elimination is the linear configuration of benzonitrile. The centres 
of the carbon and nitrogen atoms of the cyanogen group and of the 
carbon atom of the phenyl group to which it is attached lie in a straight 
line. The formation of benzonitrile therefore entails the movement of the 
nitrogen nucleus in the direction shown. 

In the derivative of the p-oxime, represented in the diagram, this 
movement is directly away from the acetoxy-group and consequently 
results in the liberation of this as the acet-ion. The successive events 
in the chain are correlated, and they proceed readily. 

In the corresponding derivative of the a-oxime, the movement of the 
nitrogen nucleus entails no similar withdrawal from the acetoxy-group. 
There is no corresponding opportunity for the latter to escape as the 
acet-ion, and the chain of events does not take place. 

In the P-oxime derivative the possibility of the complete withdrawal 
of the proton is conditioned by the rapid breakdown of the resultant 
negative ion into benzonitrile and acet-ion. The a-oxime acetate would 
yield a negative ion which would possess no corresponding tendency to 
split off an acet-ion. In accordance with its lack of acidity the a-acetate 
could not, therefore, give up a proton to the alkaline solution. 

The greater facility of ^ra«^-elimination in the ethylene series is evidently 
capable of an analogous explanation. 

Not only were the configurations formerly assigned to the aldoximes 
based on a false assumption, but we now know from the work of 
Meisenheimer that those attributed to the stereo-isomeric ketoximes have 
also to be interchanged. In the Beckmann transformation the radicals 
which migrate do not lie on the same side, but on opposite sides, of the 
CN group. 

It is usual to think of the migration of the groups. But if we imagine 
the change occurring in an isolated molecule and remember that moment 
of momentum must be conserved, it is clear that most of the movement 
by which the relative displacement is brought about would be executed 
by the nitrogen atom. We therefore get a truer picture of the change by 
regarding the groups as relatively stationary and directing our attention 
on the movement of the nitrogen atom. 

Inspection of the diagrams which indicate the alternative movements 
of the nitrogen atom corresponding with cis- and iraw- migration, shows 
at once how much more probable the latter is. 

The Beckmann change is brought about by energetic reagents, but if 
we view the phenomenon broadly, disregarding intermediate stages and 
looking at the final result, it is clear that the principal source of the energy 
difference between the oxime and the anilide is the replacement of the 
weak oxygen-to-nitrogen link in the former by the strong oxygen-to-carbon 
link in the latter compound. 

We may accordingly see, as the driving force which brings about 
the change, the affinity of the oxygen for the central carbon atom. It 
may therefore be concluded that the first step in the process of actual 



transformation is probably the attachment of the oxygen atom (or its 
representative in an intermediate product) to this carbon atom. If this 
is so, then the consequent displacement of the nitrogen atom must 
inevitably occur in a direction away from the oxygen atom, that is, in the 
direction that leads to iraw^-migration. 

In any case, the passage of the nitrogen atom across the line of closest 




Anilide (enolic form). 
Fig. 7. 

approach of the oxygen atom to the central carbon atom, which is required 
for m-migration, must seem exceedingly unlikely. 

This more concrete way of looking at the Beckmann transformation 
enables us to see, I think, very clearly that the c?^-interchange of groups, 
instead of being an assumption that could be taken for granted, was in 
fact a highly improbable hypothesis. It indicates that the natural course 
for the migration of groups to pursue is that which leads to a trans- 

I now pass to the consideration of a question which has been of deep 
interest to all who have reflected on stereochemical problems, the optical 


activity of living matter. It was a subject to which Pasteur devoted much 
thought, and he was disposed to seek the origin of the optical activity of 
the products of vegetable life in cosmic causes. 

' The universe,' he said, ' is a dissymmetrical whole. I am inclined 
to think that life, as manifested to us, must be a function of the dis- 
symmetry of the universe or of the consequences that result from it. 
The universe is dissymmetrical ; for, if the solar system were placed 
before a mirror, the image of the bodies that compose it moving with their 
several motions could not be superposed on the reality. Even the move- 
ment of solar light is dissymmetrical. A luminous ray never falls without 
constant change of direction on the leaf in which vegetable life is bringing 
about the creation of organic matter. Terrestrial magnetism, the 
opposition which exists between the north and south poles in a magnet, 
that offered us by the two electricities positive and negative, are but 
resultants from dissymmetrical actions and movements.' 

Pasteur tried to obtain experimental confirmation of these views. At 
Strasburg he had powerful magnets constructed with the object of 
introducing dissymmetric influences during the formation of crystals. 
At Lille again, in 1854, he had a clockwork arrangement made by means 
of which he intended, with the aid of a heliostat and reflector, to cause a 
plant to germinate and grow under conditions in which the natural 
apparent movement of the sun from east to west was reversed. 

Since the discovery by Cotton in 1896 that alkaline solutions of copper 
tartrate have unequal coefficients of absorption for dextro- and leevo- 
circularly polarised light, the action of circularly polarised light appeared 
to be the most promising method of obtaining molecularly dissymmetric 
compounds in an optically active state without the use of other optically 
active substances. Since, further, circularly polarised light must occur 
in nature — as, for example, by reflexion of the plane polarised part of the 
light of the sky at the surface of the sea — the unequal destruction which 
it must effect of the dextro- and laevo-forms of dissymmetric compounds, 
acting for immense periods of time, has been regarded by some as the 
most probable cause of the optical activity of the compounds contained 
in living matter, especially as Byk has shown that, in consequence of the 
rotation of the plane of polarisation of the light by the earth's magnetism, 
there must be a preponderance of one of the two forms in the total amount 
of circularly polarised light thus produced. 

These considerations have been brought into prominence by the marked 
success which has recently been attained by Werner Kuhn and Knopf 
in activating the dimethylamide of a-azidopropionic acid by means of 
circularly polarised light. Kuhn has discussed the biological significance 
of this achievement, and he gives reasons to show that the possibility of 
the optical activity of living matter having been brought about through 
the long-continued action of circularly polarised light can by no means 
be rejected. 

When one considers, however, the minuteness of the proportion of the 
total illumination received by an organism under natural conditions that 
can be circularly polarised, and the difficulty that has been experienced 
in demonstrating the optically activating effect of this form of light, even 


under the favourable conditions of the laboratory, it is impossible not to 
feel a certain scepticism of an explanation based on the action of circularly 
polarised light thus produced. 

It is true that circularly polarised light of greater intensity might be 
produced by naturally occurring doubly-refracting minerals ; but its 
production in this manner would be necessarily so highly localised and so 
evenly distributed between the dextro- and laevo-forms that it is difficult 
to believe that initially optically inactive living matter could be rendered 
optically active through the agency of circularly polarised light produced 
in this way. 

It would, therefore, seem not out of place to seek for other possible 
causes of the dissymmetry of living matter, and it may be profitable to 
inquire whether the property of growth which is characteristic of living 
matter may not necessarily lead to its dissymmetry. 

We know that many components of living matter are substances of 
great molecular complexity, and the more complex the substance the more 
likely it is to be molecularly dissymmetric, and, as a matter of fact, a 
large proportion of the compounds which occur in living organisms are 
optically active. 

Again, many of the reactions which go on in living matter, and on 
which vital activity depends, are thus reactions between molecularly 
dissymmetric compounds. 

Now when a reaction takes place between two molecularly dissym- 
metric compounds, there is always more or less difference between the 
velocities of reaction of a given antimer of the one compound with the 
two antimeric forms of the other. Thus, as was shown by Marckwald 
and McKenzie, Isvo-menthol reacts more rapidly with dextro-mandelic 
acid than it does with laevo-mandelic acid. 

It is easy to see why this should be. Chemical interaction between 
organic compounds necessitates the apposition of the two reacting groups 
in a particular manner, and when each of the reacting groups possesses 
a complex environment it is evident that there must be a difference in the 
readiness with which a dissymmetric molecule can be thus apposed to the 
dextro- and Isevo-forms of a co-reactant molecule. 

We can express this by saying that reactions between molecularly 
dissymmetric compounds are stereo-specific , and it is fairly obvious that, 
in general, the more complex the compounds the more highly stereo- 
specific reactions between them are likely to be. 

It is therefore probable that many of the reactions on which vital 
processes depend are highly stereo-specific. Of isolated reactions that 
can be studied in vitro, it would seem that those most nearly related 
to the reactions of living matter are reactions involving enzymes, and it 
is well known how highly stereo-specific these may be. 

Now in living matter, every dissymmetric component is present in one 
only of its two antimeric configurations, and it appears that the configura- 
tions of these components are so correlated that each dissymmetric 
molecule encounters only that antimer of its dissymmetric co-reactants 
with which it interacts the more rapidly. It is evident that living matter 
thus constituted must be greatly more efficient than a hypothetical form 


of living matter in which every dissymmetric component was present in 
equal quantities of both its antimeric forms. 

This can perhaps be made clearer by consideration of some reaction 
which we might regard as a simplified model of a biological process. Let 
us consider the hydrolysis of dextro-sucrose by invertase, at not too great 
concentrations, so that the velocity of hydrolysis is approximately pro- 
portional to the concentrations both of substrate and of enzyme, and 
compare the initial rate of inversion with what it would be if we employed 
instead inactive materials at the same total concentrations — ^/-sucrose 
and inactive invertase. From the known specificity of the action of 
invertase we may safely assume that ordinary invertase would activate 
dextro-sucrose only and that its mirror image would activate Ifevo-sucrose 

Then it is clear that in the first experiment every sucrose molecule that 
encountered invertase would be susceptible of activation by it, whereas 
in the second only half the encounters would be potentially effective and 
the reaction would proceed at only half the rate at which it takes place 
in the optically active mixture. 

Great caution is obviously necessary in applying the law of mass action 
to biological processes, since adsorptions on enzymes and on active 
surfaces have to be taken into account ; if in our model we had sufficiently 
increased the sugar concentrations, so that the enzyme was working at 
its maximum capacity, there would have been little or no difference 
between the rates of hydrolysis in the active and the inactive mixtures. 

If, however, we are justified in assuming that in living matter con- 
centrations of this order are not approached, and that diminutions in 
concentration of a molecular species would be accompanied by an approxi- 
mately proportionate fall in the velocity of the reaction or reactions in 
which it was concerned, then the inactivation of living matter by the 
instantaneous replacement of half of each of its optically active components 
by their enantiomorphs would suddenly diminish the rates of all the stereo- 
specific reactions proceeding in it to rates approximating more or less, 
in the case of reactions of bimolecular type, to one-half of their former 

Thus, in a general way, it is clear that if we are right in assuming that 
the reactions of living matter include reactions of a stereo-specific type, 
then living matter must gain very greatly in efficiency through the optical 
activity of its dissymmetric components. 

Let us now consider the optical activity of living matter in connection 
with the phenomenon of growth. 

In the growth of, for example, a vegetable organism of a primitive 
undifferentiated type we observe the existing tissue building up, with the 
aid of absorbed radiant energy, tissue of the same nature as itself from 
the materials of its inorganic environment. 

We have an association of chemical compounds which is capable of 
synthesising from simple inorganic materials each of the organic materials 
of which it is itself composed, and the rates of production of these are 
controlled, so that each is produced at a rate which, on the average, is 
proportional to the amount of it present in the tissue. 


We have particularly to note that, though the new tissue is built up 
from symmetrical inorganic materials, each of its dissymmetric com- 
ponents is produced in one only of its two optically active forms, and this 
form is the same as that present in the tissue by which it has been 
produced . 

We must therefore conclude that the chemical reactions concerned in 
growth, or at any rate those concerned in the production of the primary 
dissymmetric tissue components, are completely stereo-specific. The 
mechanism concerned in the synthesis of, for example, glucose from 
carbon dioxide and water produces dextro-giucose only without , apparently, 
a trace of its enantiomorph. 

Let us now endeavour to imagine what the effect on the process of 
growth would be if all the dissymmetric components of the growing tissue 
were instantaneously racemised. On account of the stereo-specific 
character of the mechanisms of growth we should then have two practically 
independent mechanisms working side by side. We should have the 
original mechanism producing dissymmetric compounds of the con- 
figurations which occur in nature, <^-glucose, ^/-cellulose, J-tartaric acid, 
/-leucine, and so on. We may arbitrarily call this the (/-system. The 
concentrations of all its dissymmetric components would be reduced by 
this racemisation to half their original values. Working alongside this, 
and in practical independence, we should have the enantiomorphous 
/-system producing antimers of the dissymmetric compounds found in 

The velocities of the different synthethic processes would be variously 
affected by this change. The velocity of the fundamental process of 
carbohydrate photosynthesis, the formation of the symmetrical compound 
formaldehyde from symmetrical carbon dioxide and water, would remain 
unchanged. This process is independent of mirror-image isomerism ; 
there is thus no need for assimilation pigments to be optically active, and 
chlorophyll is in fact described as being optically inactive. Again the 
condensation of formaldehyde to glucose, in which a dissymmetric 
polymerisation-catalyst must necessarily be involved, since normally the 
d-iorm of glucose is alone produced, would take place initially with 
unaltered velocity on account of the symmetry of formaldehyde. 
Immediately after the change the inactive tissue would go on producing 
JZ-glucose at the same rate at which the optically active tissue had been 
producing ^/-glucose. 

As soon, however, as we come to consider the further transformation 
of the first formed optically active products, the relative inefiiciency of 
the optically inactive tissue becomes apparent. 

If, for example, the glucose in the tissue undergoes a transformation 
involving interaction with another dissymmetric substance, such as a 
polymerisation under the influence of a dissymmetric catalyst, then, as 
we have already seen with our model, the inversion of sucrose, the process 
should proceed less rapidly in the inactive than in the active tissue to a 
degree dependent on the order of the reaction involved, provided always 
that the concentrations are below those at which the catalyst becomes 


It would be out of place to attempt to pursue this in detail. I wish 
merely to emphasise the conclusion that if the reactions of living matter 
are as stereo-specific as the optical activity of the products indicates that 
they are, and if, further, a diminution in the concentration of a reactant 
in a biochemical process produces a comparable diminution in the reaction 
velocity, as the study of enzyme actions indicates may be the case as 
long as certain limits of concentration are not exceeded, then the synthesis 
of the components of new tissue will proceed more rapidly in living 
matter constituted, as we now find it, with all its dissymmetric components 
present in correlated optically active forms, than it would in living matter 
otherwise identical but optically inactive. 

Let us now consider the gro^vth of a tissue which is not completely 
optically inactive, that is, a tissue in which the d- and /-systems are not 
present in equal quantities. 

Let us suppose, for example, that there is twice as much of the <^-system 
as of the /-system. 

It is clear, if the arguments which I have put forward are valid, that 
in the process of groAVth of a tissue thus constituted, the ^-system will 
increase at a relatively greater rate than the /-system. 

The complex dissymmetric components of the new tissue will be built 
up from the simple symmetrical food-materials by chains of synthetic 
reactions and the rates of formation of the end-products will be controlled 
by the velocity of the slowest link in the chains. If we consider a case 
in which, as must frequently happen, this slowest link is an interaction 
involving two dissymmetric molecules, and if we suppose that the applica- 
tion of the law of mass action is so little obscured by adsorption phenomena 
that we may with sufficient approximation assume that, as in a simple 
bimolecular reaction, the reaction velocity is proportional to the second 
power of the concentration, then the rate of formation of the ^-component 
will be four times that of its enantiomorph. If this applied to every 
dissymmetric constituent of the new growth, then, whereas there was 
twice as much of the d- as of the /-system in the old tissue, there would 
be four times as much of the d- as of the /-system in the new growth. 

It will be clear that, even though the reactions of living matter may be 
less completely stereo-specific than I have, for simplicity, assumed, and 
though the velocities of the bi- and poly-molecular reactions in question 
may increase more slowly with the concentration than according to the 
second power, yet as long as they increase more rapidly than according 
to the first power of the concentration any excess of one system over the 
other in the old tissue will become greater in the new growth. 

In a subject as complicated as this, and where precise knowledge is so 
lacking, it is not possible to give an exact proof, but I hope I may have 
succeeded in indicating that there is an a priori probability that an 
optically inactive growing tissue would be, as regards its optical inactivity, 
in a state of unstable equilibrium. If there were the slightest departure 
in either direction from exact equality of the d- and /-components of the 
tissue, this would increase with growth continually, according to a com- 
pound interest law until, eventually, the system originally in slight defect 
was completely swamped by its enantiomorph. 



From this point of view the optical activity of hving matter is an 
inevitable consequence of its property of growth. 

The question how an original bias could have arisen provokes an 
inquiry into the probable degree of variation from exact equality to be 
expected in the numbers of d- and /-molecules when a given number of 
molecules of a dissymmetric compound are produced under undirected 

It is very well known that the most probable distribution of d- and 
/-molecules is that in which the numbers of the two kinds are exactly 
equal. The probability of the occurrence of this exact distribution, where 
the numbers are large, is, however, very small, and is greatly exceeded by 
the sum of the probabilities of the other distributions. An exactly equal 
distribution will practically never occur, and it is of interest to know the 
average degree of inequality to be expected for a given number of 

This is easily calculated for a relatively small number, for example, 
100,000. Plotting the probabilities of obtaining given numbers of 
^-molecules, as ordinates, against the numbers, as abscissas, a symmetrical 
curve is obtained — 


Fig. 8. 



which just becomes distinguishable from the base-line at about 49,500 
and rises to a maximum at, of course, 50,000 J- molecules. The ordinate 
of 49,894 divides the half-area into two equal portions. If, therefore, a 
number of groups of 100,000 molecules of a dissymmetric compound are 
produced under conditions vmder which the probability of formation of 
d- and /-molecules is equal, half the groups will contain an excess of more 
than 212 molecules of one enantiomorph or the other. We may regard 
this proportion of o-2i per cent, as expressing the degree of statistical 
dissymmetry (which we may call k) to be expected when 100,000 dis- 
symmetric molecules are produced under unbiassed conditions. 

As we take larger and larger numbers of molecules the average difference 
between the numbers of d- and /-molecules produced becomes, of course, 
absolutely greater, but relatively less. 


I am indebted to Mr. L. A. Pars for calculating the very simple relation 
which exists between the average degree of dissymmetry k and the number 
of molecules n, when n is large. It is 

k=^ o-6743/\/« 
Thus the average degree of dissymmetry sinks to 0-067 P^r '^^^^^ ^^^ 
one million and to 0-021 per cent, for ten million molecules. In other 
words, when ten million dissymmetric molecules are produced under 
conditions which favour neither enantiomorph, there is an even chance 
that the product will contain an excess of more than 0-021 per cent, of 
one enantiomorph or the other. It is practically impossible for the 
product to be absolutely optically inactive. It is more probable than 
not that it will possess a very small but nevertheless a finite optical activity, 
exceeding o -021 per cent, of that of the optically pure substance. 

Of course, ten million molecules represents a quantity of matter which 
is exceedingly minute in comparison with the quantities that chemists are 
accustomed to handle. To gain a concrete notion of the magnitudes 
involved, we may imagine a catalytically active compound of a molecular 
weight of 35,000, and, with regard to the well-established biological 
potency of very small quantities of many substances, we may suppose 
that it exerts a marked influence on the metabolism of living matter 
when present at a concentration of o- 1 per cent. Ten million molecules 
of this substance would then be contained in- a sphere of protoplasm of 
three hundredths of a millimetre, or 30 \j. in diameter. 

This is at least a thousand times as large (in bulk) as the smallest 
forms of vegetable life. A number of green algae and some of the 
smallest blue-green algae are only 3 [j. in their larger diameter. 

In microscopic forms of life it appears, therefore, by no means impos- 
sible that the number of molecules of one vitally dominant dissymmetric 
catalyst contained in an organism might be sufficiently low to ensure 
the probability of the presence of a small but finite relative excess of one 
of the enantiomorphous forms, when that quantity of the compound was 
produced under symmetrical conditions. 

If we could assume, therefore, that the first portion of living matter 
which arose on this planet was of microscopic dimensions, we might 
account on the basis of the laws of probability for the existence of a minute 
initial bias towards one optical system or the other ; and this would 
then, if the principles which I have endeavoured to explain are justified, 
eventually lead to the complete optical activity of the molecularly dis- 
symmetric components of all living matter. The development of the 
organic kingdom from a single germ would provide a simple explanation 
of the configurational relationship which appears to exist between the 
optically active components of the most diverse forms of life , as is illustrated 
by the occurrence in nature of glucose in its dextro-rotatory form only. 
The mystery of living matter seems to lie in its power of growth. Given 
this, the optical activity of its components appears to follow as a necessary 
consequence of the law of mass action and the stereo-specificity of inter- 
actions between dissymmetric compounds. 




PROF. P. G. H. BOSWELL, D.Sc, F.R.S., 


Geology in its Modern Aspects. 

One of the most attractive features of geology is the number of its contacts 
with other sciences and with the industrial arts. In this respect students 
of our science may account themselves fortunate or otherwise, according 
to their point of view and degree of maturity. We need only call to mind 
the recent progress in sciences with which geology makes contact to 
realise that the geologist is required, by the very breadth of his interests, 
to keep acquainted with such important advances in knowledge ; nor is 
it accounted to him for virtue to keep to a path of narrow specialisation, 
unmindful of the limitations which they must necessarily impose. 

Geology is primarily an observational science. Only to a limited 
extent at present are its data amenable to mathematical treatment. None 
the less, its ' laws ' are based on foundations which, established firmly as 
many of them were nearly a hundred years ago, have survived the searching 
tests of a century's observations, and have been strengthened in no small 
measure by the fulfilment of divers predictions. Discoveries that 
revolutionise the very basis of thought must, from the nature of our sub- 
ject, be few and far between, and it is therefore unnecessary to discuss the 
fact that geologists have not for many decades aroused the scientific 
world by sensational announcements. The development of our science 
from close observations of innumerable field-phenomena and from 
cautiously drawn inferences, has been guided by the principle that ' the 
present is the key to the past.' But this is not to say that startling and 
fascinating hypotheses have been lacking. I need only cite those of 
Continental Drift and the Nappe Theory of Mountain-building. It has 
rather made for strength in our science that these flights of imagination 
have been looked at askance, after the traditional manner of British 
geologists ; and some attractive hypotheses have not emerged unscathed 
after careful study in the cold light of accumulated facts. 

Trends in geological thought during the past century have often been 
the subject of presidential addresses. My immediate predecessor in this 
chair appropriately compared the geological problems of 183 1 with those 
in the succeeding three quarter-centuries. On an earlier occasion 
Prof. W. J. Sollas, in his characteristically felicitous and convincing 


manner, reminded us of Huxley's exposition of how first Hutton and then 
Lyell rescued our science from the stultifying catastrophism of the 
Noachian flood tradition by founding the Uniformitarian school, whose 
touchstone was the principle just mentioned, the interpretation of the past 
by reference to causes now in operation. Huxley further demonstrated 
how this swing of the pendulum was damped, and (as Prof. SoUas later 
pointed out) the most striking advance in geological thought engendered, 
through the publication of The Origin of Species, by which Evolutional 
Uniformitarianism became our watchword. The new conception of the 
evolution of life on the earth was accompanied, as every great forward move- 
ment must be, by theories and hypotheses thrown out far in advance of the 
army of accumulated facts. Some of these outposts had to be abandoned ; 
others were able to dig themselves in. A long period of consolidation 
in the battle for enlightenment was inevitable. The onus of testing and 
proving the general truth of evolution and of describing the nature of 
evolutionary changes has naturally fallen on the geologist. Such a task, 
involving laborious stratigraphical and palaeontological studies, was one 
after his own heart, for he was enabled while pursuing it to follow other 
geological interests. But it was not a task that could be hurried, since 
it included the full investigation of stratigraphical successions at home 
and abroad. Indeed, the present detailed studies of the rocks and fossils 
of small divisions of the geological record had inevitably to become a 
leading feature in our publications ; and, while they bear witness to the 
fact that the necessary labour is far from finished, they unfortunately tend 
to repel the student of other sciences. Further, during the last fifty years 
there has come to us the realisation that not only life, but environment 
and crustal movement have been undergoing steady changes in character 
throughout geological history ; and we cannot disregard the obvious 
connection between them. To Eduard Suess we owe the first exposition, 
in his Das Antlitz der Erde, of tectonic geology on a regional scale, a branch 
of the science which has grown apace. In this study, geologists abroad 
(whose lines are cast in more favourable places) have taken a relatively 
greater part than those in Britain. As a branch of science that collates 
and co-ordinates a huge mass of facts, not always clearly related, but from 
which we may look forward to illuminating generalisations, regional and 
tectonic geology must be recognised as a striking feature of our science 

while realising, however, that detailed stratigraphical investigation and 
field-mapping, with its great British tradition behind it, must remain an 
essential, we should not lose sight of the fact that geology is also an 
experimental science. Sir John Flett, in his address to the section at 
Edinburgh in 1921, reminded us that the earliest synthetic work on the 
chemistry of igneous magmas and rocks was accomplished by James Hall, 
who actually melted and recrystallised rocks in the laboratory and investi- 
gated the conditions of temperature and pressure that resulted in the 
recrystallisation of limestone. During the past century, a long line of 
experimenters has followed Hall's footsteps, but the elaborate equipment 
now required for physico-chemical investigations in petrology has been 
a deterrent to work in our impoverished Universities. The wonderful 


record of achievement of the Geophysical Laboratory in Washington, 
however, shows what can be done ; and we may hope that a revival of 
activities in this direction will before long be witnessed in this country. 
As in every science, not less than in some branches of geology, the results 
obtained and the facts recorded are a measure of the success of the tech- 
nique employed. The wide range and varied interests of geology now 
demand a body of investigators thoroughly trained and conversant with 
the methods of cognate sciences. How can we ensure the supply of such 
trained geologists, and how are they to acquire the necessary technique .'' 

Geology in Schools and Universities. 

Students are still attracted to geology by a pure love of the subject, 
just as they were in the old days of the great amateurs. Were it not for 
this, the restriction of science in schools to subjects other than geology 
would long ago have emptied our university class-rooms. It might be 
urged that geology offered definite opportunities for an attractive career, 
but this is a fact of which pre-university students and their mentors are 
even now only vaguely aware. And we should not forget that the value 
of geology as a cultural subject has frequently been emphasised. For the 
breadth of view it engenders and the enthusiasm it inspires, it should 
find a place in the curriculum of every university student (as it used to 
in the Royal College of Science and still does in at least one American 

I may here quote the authority of the Prime Minister, who recently 
expressed the view that ' if any one of the sciences were selected as the 
key to all the other sciences — as that which in its subject-matter and its 
history, the history of its evolution, enforces the true scientific method — 
geology might be selected as that science. For it touches all the funda- 
mental sciences ; it teaches the young how things become, how age 
merges into age, how species merge into species, how generation merges 
into generation, institution into institution — in short, how to approach 
that problem of a working and progressive society by making them 
acquainted with the processes of earth structure and of life lived on that 

Again, Professor H. E. Armstrong, in one of the wholesome scourgings 
that he is wont to deliver to the scientific community at not infrequent 
intervals, rightly declares that the broad culture advocated by Huxley full 
fifty years ago has not yet come to us. From his own experience, he 
urges the feasibility and desirability of the study of geology in schools, 
and would regard it as the only possible foundation of a true geography. 
I can testify that as a school-subject geology makes an admirable and 
popular hobby, but it might be inadvisable further to overload an already 
heavy curriculum by adding it as a regular course of study. As an essential 
part of his training, we may regard it as highly desirable that the future 
student of geology should have a working knowledge of elementary 
chemistry, physics, mathematics and biology. The absence of geology 
from the school curriculum is not necessarily serious, so long as the formal 
work imposes no handicap on students who wish to go forward with the 
subject at the university. In most institutions, however, such a handicap 


does exist in the form of concessions granted for pre-university training to 
a University Intermediate standard in subjects such as chemistry, physics, 
and mathematics, whereby the length or intensity of the university 
course in those subjects is reduced. 

If, however, geology could be introduced more widely into schools (as 
it has been in some) as part of a general course in elementary science — a 
revival and extension of Huxley's Physiography — it could with advantage 
be supplemented by field-excursions, and related to the activities of school 
societies and museums. 

Assuming this general training in elementary science, with possibly an 
introduction to our subject, we may next ask how its further study is 
related to the advance of knowledge in other sciences. 

The Contacts of Geology. 

Geology makes contact with astronomy at an early stage in the history 
of our planet, when the astronomer hands over the new-born earth for 
the consideration of the geologist. We accept his assurance that its birth 
was an extremely unusual, if not almost unique, event, in that it was 
procreated in the mere approach of solar parents and suffered gestation 
in a hypothetical tidal disruption. By a process of condensation and 
sweating, its constituent matter, not differing from that of the other 
heavenly bodies, became arranged in the concentric shells that allowed 
life to develop on the surface, and provided there the means for its 

The earth's history has been that of a pulsating globe, its crust subject 
both to disturbances that have originated below the surface, and to 
modifications that have arisen from the interplay of the successive spherical 
shells known as the lithosphere, hydrosphere, and atmosphere. This 
interplay is the result of such manifestations of energy as the gravitative 
action of the sun and moon and radiation from the sun ; indeed, the 
movements of the atmosphere and the action of the tides represent for the 
geologist the music of the spheres. When and how life arose on the earth 
is a problem scarcely nearer solution to-day than it was at the first meeting 
of the British Association, but it is clear that not until Man had evolved 
as a civilised being did life play more than a minor part in influencing 
physical environment. In the earlier, as in the later, history of our planet, 
the problems of geology were of a physico-chemical character, serving to 
emphasise the contact of geology with its sister sciences of chemistry and 
physics. Our appreciation of this relationship has developed in recent 
years with the advances in geochemistry and geophysics. From a desire 
to further such knowledge have arisen investigations concerned with the 
stability-relations of elements, of simple chemical compounds, and of 
minerals generally ; with the influence of temperature and pressure on 
the solid, liquid, and gaseous materials involved in the constitution of the 
earth ; and with the transmission of wave-motion through these materials. 
By these studies we have come to comprehend, at least in part, the delicacy 
of equilibrium that exists in rock matter, whether viewed from the stand- 
points of the constitution of the atom, of phase-rule relationships or of 
the buoyancy (isostasy) of areas of the earth's crust as a whole. Incidentally, 


although this is a side-issue of purely scientific investigations, we find at 
every turn that the door has been opened to important industrial appli- 
cations of the facts so gathered, and geology in consequence continues to 
play its role as one of the most valuable instruments in the service of Man. 
Germane in this connection are the recent and active developments in 
our knowledge of the formation and emplacement of the deposits of useful 
metals and non-metals. These advances have resulted from the realisation 
that the problems involve the application of physical and chemical laws, 
and that ores, veinstones, and salts ultimately have a genetic connection 
with sub-crustal magmas. In those cases where superficial deposits 
conceal from the geologist possible mineral wealth existing at depth, he 
is now able to call to his aid the methods of applied geophysics — gravi- 
tational, magnetic, electric, radio-active, and seismic. 

The advances in the technique of geophysical prospecting in recent 
years are so outstanding as to justify our pausing for a moment to refer 
to them. Not only is precision given to estimates of the extent and 
depth of ore-bodies of large dimensions, and of irregular alluvial ore 
deposits covered by overburden, but the location of the water-table 
underground, as well as the distinction between fresh and saline waters, 
and the demarcation of salt-deposits and of the cavities occupied by brine, 
can also be effected. Estimation of the depth of buried topographic 
features, and the determination of thickness of overlying deposits such 
as Glacial Drift (of great importance in establishing foundations), or of 
detritus like that formed by tropical weathering, can now be made with 
considerable success. The position of old mine-workings, bad ground, 
and flooded areas can be determined with safety and at less expense 
than by the older method of exploration, which might at any moment 
result in loss of life. It should be emphasised, however, that geophysical 
prospecting supplements and gives precision to the ordinary geological 
methods of investigation — it cannot replace them. 

As distinct from their formation, the concentration of sparsely dis- 
seminated elements and compounds into workable masses is due to 
chemical and physical processes ; similarly, the action of plants and 
animals results in the concentration of energy in such fuel-products as 
the various coals, oil-shales and petroleum. Exactly in what manner 
deposits of the latter type formed and accumulated in commercial quanti- 
ties is by no means clear, nor for that matter is it always evident in the 
case of metallic ores (as was manifest from the discussions in this Section 
at the Centenary Meeting). But we may hope for further enlighten- 
ment from experimental and synthetic work at present in progress, 
especially when it guides and is guided by further field- investigations. 

Time was when the establishment of the truth of organic evolution 
and the concomitant inquiry into the manner in which the minute changes 
in organisms arose was all-sufficient for the majority of thinkers. But 
Eduard Suess, with a wider and deeper grasp of the essentials of earth- 
history, approached more nearly to a philosophic conception, when he 
wrote in an oft-quoted passage of ' those great physical changes in com- 
parison with which the changes in the organic world only appear as 
phenomena of the second order, as simple consequences.' To determine 


fully the profound influence exercised by those rhythmic or cataclysmic 
earth-movements on the evolution of life is, however, only to carry the 
inquiry a stage farther back. The vera causa still remains obscure. 
Latterly we have witnessed efforts to explain both mountain-building 
movements and the more widespread interchange of areas of land and 
sea as the effects of convection currents in the earth's interior, resulting 
from changes of density due to temperature and pressure or to mineral 
rearrangement in the subcrustal materials : ' oft the teeming earth Is 
with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd.' 

Thus we arrive once more at the necessity for an understanding of 
the problems of physico-chemical relationships. Whether sub-crustal 
volume-changes in minerals and rocks originate as the result of a legacy 
from solar parentage in the form of the earth's internal heat, or of the 
running-down of the radio-active clock, is still a matter for discussion ; 
but there is little doubt that the effects of the atmosphere and hydrosphere 
on the crust, in eroding a load of rock in one place and imposing newly- 
formed sediment in another, have played their part in determining the 
location of crustal disturbances. 

Many of the other contacts of geology are so obvious and familiar 
that I need only refer to them briefly. Such, for example, are illustrated 
by the intimate relationships of botany and zoology to palaeobotany 
and palasozoology. Again, it is unnecessary to emphasise that the study 
of either living organisms or fossil remains cannot be effective if divorced 
from one another. Nor need one amplify the statement that the proof 
of the reality of evolution rests with the geologist. 

In the case of geography, the connection may be through the physical 
or the humanistic sides. Physical geography, for example, is but physical 
geology re-named and, as a sine qua non of preliminary geographical studies, 
its essential basis is field-work. It can only be taught effectively, there- 
fore, by the geologist. The influence on the development of mankind of 
the major crustal features of the earth and of scenic types is profound, 
as also is that of the solid and superficial rocks and of the various mineral 
resources contained in them. To mention only one example, the parti- 
tion of Hungary, like the restoration of Alsace, suggests that if a geological 
map did not hang on the wall at the Versailles Congress, its implications 
were in the minds of those present. 

In the application of geological principles to the problems of civil 
engineering we have a contact which has become increasingly close 
during the last half-century. Indeed, it is scarcely an exaggeration to 
say that no great engineering undertaking that involves an interference 
with the materials and loading of the earth's crust is now promoted 
without geological advice. Loss of life and money, as well as the possi- 
bility of subsequent litigation, is thereby reduced to a minimum. Canal- 
cutting, tunnelling, road and railway construction, drainage, coast-erosion, 
mitigation of earthquake-effects, harbour-engineering, sanitation, and 
impounding of water-supplies for either power purposes or direct utili- 
sation all require a detailed knowledge of the geology of the locality if 
they are to be successfully prosecuted. The recovery of underground 
water by means of wells, boreholes, and adits has long been dependent 


on the advice of the geologist, and it is no less his function to taivC into 
careful consideration in this and other connections the location of ceme- 
teries, the methods of disposal of sewage, and the prevention of the 
pollution of rivers. 

Apart from the problems involved in the proper location of means of 
communication and of heavy structures, the provision of raw materials 
used in constructional work falls largely within the geologist's province. 
Natural road-stones and building-stones are still in great demand, 
although they were at one time more widely used than now. At the 
present day the geologist is called upon to provide the raw materials 
for the making of concrete, artificial stone, bricks, and cement. Concrete 
and the various artificial stones which are now being extensively manu- 
factured find their analogues in the rocks, and the improvement in their 
quality, as in that of cement, is both a geological and geochemical problem. 
Questions of the deterioration or improvement with time of natural and 
artificial stone, cement, bricks, and mortar are paralleled by the decay or 
induration of rocks, a field of inquiry but little explored. 

I must ask indulgence for thus labouring the obvious, but it is appro- 
priate from time to time to review, as my predecessors in this chair have 
done, the services demanded from geology by the ever-increasing needs 
of the community. It is not without relief that I turn to a contact where 
geology is able to help in the spirit of pure investigation, that of the 
relationship of Early Man to well-established geological phenomena. 
Here we may well fail to see any practical applications or utilitarian 
reward, but the discussion is none the less interesting for all that. 

The Ice Age and Early Man in Britain. 

When the British Association last met in York (in 1906), G. W. 
Lamplugh, then President of Section C, expounded the view that, with 
the evidence then available, he could find no proof of interglacial epochs 
in Britain, but only of a period of continuous glaciation during which 
' the margins of the ice-lobes underwent extensive oscillations.' The case 
which he presented so skilfully and with such an extensive knowledge 
of field-phenomena and literature was difficult to answer. Further 
data and increased knowledge of the history of Man in Britain have 
caused most, if not all, of us to adopt the multiglacial theory. It will 
be my task to summarise the evidence that has produced this change 
of view from monoglacialism. 

The recent fortunate discoveries of skeletal remains of primitive 
Man in China, Java, Palestine, and East and South Africa, remarkable 
as they are, should not cause us to lose sight of the fact that the steady 
advance of archaeological knowledge in this country during the past two 
or three decades has been no less startling. Only some fifty years ago, 
Skertchley's advocacy of the great antiquity of Man in the Fen country 
was received with scepticism. At the present day it is recognised on 
all hands that the rise of Man was not a post-glacial phenomenon ; 
on the contrary, we are now certain that Man was as characteristic a 
mammal of glacial and interglacial times as the mammoth and straight- 
tusked elephant. The tendency to regard present-day geographical 


conditions as having been inaugurated after the passing of the Ice Age 
is still seen in the practice of referring the terraces of existing rivers to 
post-glacial times. When, therefore, a river-terrace is described as 
post-glacial because it is proved to be of later date than the local boulder 
clay, we should remember that this use of the term post-glacial has 
only a local significance and is therefore loosely applied. The very 
extent of the broad and elevated areas of ancient river-gravels is evidence 
of conditions capable of giving rise to rivers of great volume. If such 
conditions were due to a very heavy rainfall, they would be accompanied 
by an exceptionally luxuriant flora ; but of this we have no evidence. 
More probably, therefore, the volume of water arose from melting ice. 

It is because the work of the last twenty years has so greatly resolved 
the difficulty of co-ordinating the evidence of Man's activities with 
that of the advance and retreat of the glaciers, that I have elected in 
this address to review our state of knowledge of the subject. This is 
not to say that the difficulties have all been overcome, but the reception 
accorded to an attempt which I made recently at scavenging among the 
confused deposits and literature of East Anglian geology and prehistory 
encourages me to make another effort. It can but afford an incentive 
to vigorous discussion and the consequent establishment of relationships 
at present obscure. 

As has frequently happened in British stratigraphical history, the 
situation of our country has provided exceptionally valuable imforma- 
tion for use in correlation. Special conditions resulted from the position 
of the greater part of the British Isles as an area just beyond the margin 
of successive glaciations ; in addition, a remarkable variety of human 
industries has been found. Our cultural evidence cannot vie with that 
of the caves of France and northern Spain, with their richness in painting 
and sculpture, but we may claim that the prehistoric remains in Britain 
have more illuminating contacts than those abroad. 

As is well known, an elevation of the British area of little more than 
100 feet would be sufficient to re-establish land-connection with the 
Continent by way of the east and south-east of England. We have 
good evidence in support of the view that in late Pliocene times such 
a connection existed, and that the area now occupied by the North Sea 
was land drained by a large forerunner of the present River Rhine, of 
which the Thames and other rivers of the east of England were merely 
tributaries. The ' warm ' and southern fresh- water shell, Corbicula 
fluminalis, now living in the Nile, Euphrates, and other southern rivers, 
had already established itself in streams that fed the late Pliocene repre- 
sentative of the North Sea. Under the climatic oscillations which followed 
during the Glacial Epoch, it appears to have retreated southwards before 
the ice-advance and only to have returned to our area in Acheulian inter- 
glacial times. 

Wherever the cradle of Man may have been, Asia or Africa, the evidence 
of prehistoric stations shows that the waves of his successive migrations 
advanced north-westwards across Europe. The British Isles were his 
Ultima Thule, along the road to which he sought his prey. His advance 
was determined by the extent to which the country was ice-free, for we find 


that successive human industries extend farther northward's and north- 
westwards as the ice retreated, although the re-advances of the glaciers 
and flooding of the country temporarily drove the new invader back. 

If the time-succession of human industries recognised by our archaeo- 
logical colleagues holds good (and in general it is becoming more firmly 
established every year), we should expect the sequence pre-Chellian, 
Chellian, Acheulian (Clactonian-Levalloisian), Mousterian, Aurignacian, 
Solutrian, Magdalenian, Tardenoisian, and Neolithic, when traced 
north-westwards across England, to display the phenomena known to 
geologists as overlap. The newer deposits and human waves would 
extend farther than the older, as the area was opened up to them by the 
retreat of the ice. 

This is found to be broadly the case. I propose, therefore, to examine 
the evidence for the contact of Early Man with stratigraphical horizons 
in the east of England, then to endeavour to trace the history of events 
across the Pennines to the Irish Sea, and thence to return by way of the 
Severn Valley and the Thames. 

The praiseworthy labours, extending over a long period of years, 
of the officers of the Geological Survey, and the work of numerous 
other investigators, have served to show that, in the main, the topographic 
features of Britain at the beginning of the Ice Age were similar to those 
of to-day. Many of our important river- valleys, long thought to be 
post-glacial, are now known to have been pre-glacial. They have been 
modified in detail, it is true, and their terraces have in many cases been 
proved to be of inter-glacial and late-glacial age. On the other hand, 
glaciers have here and there acted as dams and, by forming glacier-lakes 
and overflow channels, have caused permanent modification of river- 
courses ; such eff'ects can, of course, be recognised without difficulty. 

The distinction formerly drawn between River-Drift Man (Early 
Palaeolithic) and Cave Man (Late Palaeolithic) belongs almost to the 
dark ages of the science. We recognise now that human occupation- 
sites were largely determined by environment and topographic features. 
If no caves were available, late Palaeolithic Man was as ready as his for- 
bears to establish camps on open sites. River-Drift Man could not 
inhabit caves in Britain for the very good reason that caves almost 
exclusively occurred in areas protected by contemporary ice or snow. 

Our attempts at correlation may suitably begin in the east of England, 
where the succession of Late Pliocene and glacial deposits is most 

East Anglia. 

The oldest deposit of undoubted glacial origin in Britain is found 
as remnants which have escaped denudation in the east of Norfolk (where 
it is known as the Norwich Brickearth), in Yorkshire (the Basement 
Clay), and in Durham (the Scandinavian Drift). No remains of Man 
have been found in it, and its age is inferred by reference to beds above 
and below. Nevertheless, in the Crag deposits which underlie the 
Norwich Brickearth and are referred to the later Pliocene, the late W. G. 
Clarke, Mr. J. Reid Moir and Mr. J. E. Sainty have discovered worked 



flints which' are accepted by most archaeologists as artefacts. The 
Crag deposits consist of marine shelly sands and loams, with ' stone- 
beds ' at the base of their several divisions ; and it is in the stone-beds 
that the worked flints known as rostro-carinates and also large flakes 
are found. If the flints were worked by Man the industry would appear 
to be pre-Chellian. 

The next horizon containing supposedly-worked flints is the gravel 
bed which often forms the base of the Cromer Forest-bed. If it is 
agreed that the deposit of coarse flints on the foreshore between Cromer 
and East Runton is the undisturbed local base of the Forest-bed, and if 
the flaking of the flints is regarded as Man's handiwork, we here have 
evidence of another pre-Chellian industry, of which flakes and not 
rostro-carinates are typical forms. The accompanying fauna, including 
Elephas antiquus (the straight-tusked elephant). Hippopotamus amphibius. 
Rhinoceros etruscus, and R. leptorhinus, contains ancient elements in 
addition to forms associated with Chellian Man on the Continent. Above 
the gravels of the Cromer Forest-bed are black laminated clays con- 
taining peat with occasional scattered flint fragments, usually small, 
and displaying a characteristic black shiny lustre. No flints of undoubted 
human manufacture have been found in situ in this bed, but from time 
to time implements have been discovered on the foreshore and in one 
instance in the Cromer Till. From their appearance and patina, it has 
been assumed that they came from the black clays. They comprise 
' Chellian ' hand-axes and flakes, but, as will presently be seen, they 
must either belong to an earlier industry than that generally included 
in the Chellian, or the Chellian industry must straddle a major glaciation, 
that of the Norwich Brickearth ; it may even straddle two glaciations. 

The progress of climatic cooling, indicated by the moUusca of the 
various Crag deposits, is continued in the two succeeding depDsits, the 
Leda-myalis Bed and the impersistent and rarely-exposed Arctic Fresh- 
water Bed, in neither of which have remains of Man yet been found. 
These beds, however, have some significance for the archjeologist, for 
they suggest an elevation of the sea-floor and the production of an exten- 
sive land-surface in East Anglia. What beings peopled that land- 
surface we do not know. As parts of it persisted for long ages, while 
other parts were covered by glacial deposits and again exposed by de- 
nudation, it is impossible at the moment to refer to their relative position 
in the geological time-scale any materials that may have been subse- 
quently picked up from this surface. 

At the end of the episode of the Arctic Freshwater Bed and the Leda- 
myalis Bed a striking change of physical conditions is inferred, for the 
next deposit is the Norwich Brickearth already mentioned. This consists 
of clayey sands in which pebbles and boulders of chalk, flint, and crystalline 
rocks are scattered sporadically. No rocks identifiable as of exclusively 
British provenance have been found in it, but numerous types peculiar 
to Norway have been recognised. Of late years opinion has been veering 
to the view that it has originated from the melting of an ice-sheet in 
water, but whether this water was brackish or salt is not known. Un- 
doubtedly the ice-sheet had not only delivered into East Anglia boulders 


transported from Scandinavia, but had also incorporated much material 
from the bed of the North Sea, including fragments of shells. 

The striking feature of the Norwich Brickearth, as we see it to-day, is 
its oxidised and sometimes decalcified character ; it presents an eroded 
appearance, and its surface is often hummocky and weathered. One 
indication of its antiquity is the fact that the river-systems of eastern 
Norfolk have been carved through it. The deposits of the next glacial 
episode (the Great Chalky Boulder Clay) occur within the valleys and 
wrap over their slopes, so that an important and probably long period 
must have intervened between the two glaciations. During this period 
elevation occurred, extensive valley-erosion took place, and the brickearth 
was weathered and denuded. At certain localities near Yarmouth sands 
were deposited (' Mid-glacial ' sands) which overlie the Norwich Brick- 
earth and contain a cold moUuscan fauna, formerly regarded as derived, 
but now generally believed to be indigenous. The evidence thus goes 
to show that the interval, although protracted, was scarcely warm ; 
nevertheless, the amelioration of climate was sufficient to ensure that 
the North Sea ice retreated completely from the land-area of Britain, 
giving place to sheets of shallow water, sufficiently saline to support a 
marine fauna. At a later stage, the elevation of the area (presumably 
consequent upon the removal of the ice-load) resulted in the excavation 
or re-excavation of the valley-systems of eastern Suffolk and Norfolk 
just referred to. 

While these physical changes were in operation Man was possibly 
not absent from the scene. Although we find no undisputed evidence 
of his remains in the sands and gravels, we should remember that he is 
not an aquatic animal. In certain of the so-called ' Mid-Glacial Sands 
and Gravels ' Mr. Reid Moir has found what he claims to be early points 
and edged-worked scrapers of Acheulian type. The flaking of these 
flints is not accepted as human by all archaeologists, and there is the 
additional stratigraphical difficulty that the sands and gravels of diff'erent 
parts of East Anglia (formerly mapped together as ' Mid-Glacial ') include 
deposits which lie both above and below the Great Chalky Boulder 
Clay. Similar sands and gravels occur also below and even within the 
Norwich Brickearth, and have up to the present proved difficult to dis- 
tinguish from one another. 

When the ice-sheets re-advanced over East Anglia they brought 
with them rock-debris of a very different character from that which 
built up the Norwich Brickearth, While the matrix of the Brickearth 
suggests that the bottom-deposits of the North Sea, including probably 
the unconsolidated sands and clays of the Eocene and Pliocene, were 
largely incorporated, the boulder clay of the re-advance is constituted 
almost entirely of material from well-known British outcrops. These 
include igneous rocks from the north of England, the Cheviots, and 
Scotland, Upper Palasozoic limestones and sandstones, and various examples 
from the Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous Systems. Notably, the 
Oxford and Kimmeridge Clays of the Fen area and the Chalk provided 
the bulk of the constituents. A minor quantity of Scandinavian rocks, 
incorporated in Cambridgeshire and Hertfordshire, represents the 


remnants of the ploughing-up of the Scandinavian Drift, of which 
otherwise no traces are left in these areas. No implements of undoubted 
human origin have been found in the Great Chalky Boulder Clay, but 
Mr. Reid Moir has from time to time announced discoveries of Mous- 
terian flakes and points. Even if the flaking on these flints is accepted, 
I feel that the provenance of many is questionable, for the deposits in 
which they were found may have been a second (Upper) Chalky Boulder 
Clay, to be referred to later as the Upper Chalky Drift. 

Long ago Clement Reid and James Geikie stated their belief that the far- 
famed Cromer Till of the coast of Norfolk passed laterally into the Great 
Chalky Boulder Clay. In Geikie 's view the Cromer Till and Contorted 
Drift were the product of his second glaciation, the Weybourn Crag 
representing his first glaciation of the east of England. I have elsewhere 
summarised the stratigraphical evidence bearing on this point and need 
only say here that the Weybourn Crag does not itself appear to me to 
yield evidence of more than the gradual refrigeration of climate in late 
Pliocene times. In its lithological characters the Cromer Till is essentially 
diff'erent from the Norwich Brickearth. It contains numerous erratics 
of British type, but Scandinavian erratics also occur here and there. 
To explain the archaeological difficulties, I should be inclined to regard 
the Cromer Till and Great Chalky Boulder Clay as contemporaneous, 
but Dr. J. D. Solomon prefers to follow Harmer in grouping the Cromer 
Till with the Norwich Brickearth. 

The general lithology of the deposit and the sporadic occurrence of 
the erratics suggest that the Till melted out in water, possibly when the 
ice-margin was slowly retreating from the area. Mr. Solomon adduces 
good evidence in support of the view that Clement Reid's subdivisions 
of the Cromer Till, the First and Second Tills of the Mundesley area, 
separated by sands and loams, represent an oscillation during the glaciation, 
when a temporary retreat of the ice permitted the deposition of sands 
and loams in a lake-like area of water. 

F. W. Harmer followed James Geikie in grouping with the Cromer 
Till the Contorted Drift, which overlies and incorporates portions of 
the Till. He also correlated both of them with the Norwich Brickearth, 
and with the highly Chalky Drift of Sheringham and Weybourn, holding 
firmly to the opinion that the Cromer Ridge was the terminal moraine 
of the North Sea (Scandinavian) ice-sheet, of which the Norwich Brick- 
earth was the moraine profonde. But the topography of the Cromer 
Moraine is youthful and almost unmodified by erosion, as many observers 
have noted. The correlation of the Cromer Moraine with the Norwich 
Brickearth cannot be maintained on the geological evidence, and it breaks 
down entirely when the archaeological succession is taken into account. 

The marly or chalky drift of the Weybourn area was regarded by 
H. B. Woodward and the Geological Survey as part of the Great Chalky 
Boulder Clay, contemporaneous with that exposed, for example, at Cawston, 
which contains erratics of Neocomian Sandstone, Red Chalk, and tabular 
Lincolnshire flint. This Chalky-Neocomian Boulder Clay is a facies 
of the Great Chalky Boulder Clay and is clearly the lateral equivalent 
of the Chalky-Jurassic Boulder Clay. As indicated on Harmer's maps, 


it lies side by side with it in Lincolnshire, Norfolk and Cambridgeshire, 
and was regarded by him as reflecting the different outcrops along the 
strike of which the Great Eastern Glacier travelled. 

No Chalky-Neocomian Drift has been encountered in the area of the 
Cromer Moraine ; indeed, from Weybourn eastwards, it is not seen 
again until it appears, interdigitating with the Chalky-Jurassic Boulder 
Clay, at Scratby, near Ormesby, north of Yarmouth. The line of demar- 
cation between the two facies of boulder clay, having passed south of 
Nonvich, sweeps north-eastwards and then northwards. The absence 
of the Chalky Boulder Clay in the Cromer district suggests that the ice 
had rounded some obstacle which prevented its direct passage over 
northern Norfolk. There was no high ground to form such an obstacle, 
for the Cromer Moraine was not then in existence. One is therefore 
tempted to infer that the ice which produced the Cromer Till, and which, 
on the evidence of its erratics, had passed down the east coast of England 
to the Norfolk coast, lay in the way. 

Before leaving the problem of the Cromer Till and Contorted Drift, 
I must make reference to the implements found in association with these 
deposits. Unfortunately, finds of Chellian implements have been very 
few and the provenance of all but one is a matter of inference. As I 
have discussed the evidence in detail elsewhere, and given references 
to the appropriate literature, I will here only repeat the general con- 
clusions. If the workmanship of the hand-axes in question be accepted 
as Chellian, and if the implements came from undisturbed Cromer Till, 
then the probability is that they were picked up from the surface (perhaps 
a land-surface) of the Cromer Forest-bed or other Pliocene deposits, 
or of the Norwich Brickearth, by the oncoming Cromer Till ice. In 
that event the Chellian industry of Cromer would be of pre-Chalky 
Boulder Clay age and would be separated from the Acheulian by the 
glaciation which produced that Boulder Clay. The intimate association 
of the Chellian and Acheulian implements in many river-gravels and 
the gradualness of the change in the technique of flaking are not neces- 
sarily arguments against an intervening glaciation ; further, when Chellian 
and Acheulian implements are found together elsewhere, the former are 
commonly much more abraded and scratched than the latter. Indeed, 
the fact that the majority of the Chellian implements found throughout 
England are as a rule rolled and usually occur in the oldest implement- 
bearing gravels suggests that they may have been derived from a land- 
surface at a time when a marked change of conditions resulted in torrential 
floods. Evidence supporting this view is found in the Whitlingham 
deposits, to be described later. 

In the Cromer district Acheulian flakes and axes have been found 
in gravels lying above the Contorted Drift (the so-called river-gravels 
at West Runton and the Cannon-Shot gravels of the Ridge). These 
implements are probably derived, but if they are unrolled and in situ, 
as has been claimed, the underlying Contorted Drift into which the 
gravels are eroded must be pre-Acheulian, that is, the disturbances are 
probably due to the ice-sheet which produced the Great Chalky Boulder 


The deposits which succeed the Great Chalky Boulder Clay (using 
that term to include the Chalky- Jurassic Boulder Clay and the Chalky- 
Neocomian Boulder Clay) yield the most satisfactory evidence known 
to us of a widespread climatic change. The ice retreated from practically 
the whole, if not the whole, of East Anglia, leaving here and there trails 
and fans of sands and gravel and occasional lake-like areas, often several 
square miles in extent, in which laminated clays and loams were deposited. 
Some of these basins, like that at Hoxne, were connected with the existing 
river-systems, others lay high on the boulder clay plateau ; all seem to 
have become gradually silted up with sediment which, from its petro- 
graphical character, is evidently the finer washed-out matrix of the 
Great Chalky Boulder Clay. The deposits are laminated, but no true 
varves have been found. In the present connection, however, the main 
point of interest lies in their fossil-contents, which include leaves, pollen, 
land and fresh-water shells, bones and teeth of the larger mammalia, 
and the implements of Man. 

Chief among these ancient lakes are the basins at Ipswich (Foxhall 
Road), Hoxne and Hitchin. The flora contained in the upper part of 
the series of laminated clays indicates that the climate then diflfered but 
little from that of the present day. Reedy fens and alder-cars bounded 
the lakes, and elm, oak, birch, spruce, pine, and hazel formed the neighbour- 
ing woodland. Beavers were to be found in the streams and the horse 
and red deer roamed over the country. 

In the gravels and brickearths lying in the basins are found ' floors ' 
of industries of Upper Acheulian type, a special feature being the beauti- 
fully fashioned and entirely unrolled hand-axes. The succession at 
Hoxne in particular consists of Chalky-Jurassic Boulder Clay overlain 
successively by (a) brickearth containing temperate plants like those of 
to-day, (b) a loam with dwarf birch and supposed arctic willow, (c) gravels 
and brickearths with late Acheulian implements, mammoth, and reindeer, 
(d) laminated clays with Early Mousterian implements and temperate plants 
and animals, and, finally, (e) deposits like boulder-clay, and disturbed 
gravels. While the successions at Ipswich and Hitchin are similar, 
only at Hoxne is there found, below the Acheulian layer, a bed, already 
referred to, containing the ' arctic ' plants, now considered to be evidence 
of cold but not of arctic conditions. Thus between two temperate 
climatic phases we find a cold oscillation, and this oscillation must be 
placed just before the Upper Acheulian. Sealing up these lake-like 
depressions are deposits of sand, gravel, and stony clay variously termed 
' trail ' and boulder clay. Rafts of a Chalky Boulder Clay actually 
occur in the gravels, but may be in part derived. The great amount 
of disturbance to which the uppermost deposits have been subjected 
is a strong indication of the resumption of glacial conditions, especially 
as there is in places a thin deposit of intensely Chalky Boulder Clay. 
I cannot but regard the evidence for a post-Early Mousterian cold period 
in East Anglia as firmly established, even if the phenomena are explained 
as due to the slumping of snow and sludge rather than the work of ice. 
A more general term than ' Upper Chalky Boulder Clay ' is desirable 
for these variable deposits of post-Early Mousterian age, and I therefore 



adopt Dr. Solomon's designation for them of Upper Chalky Drift (his 
Little Eastern glaciation). 

In the present state of our knowledge we cannot consider the Upper 
Chalky Drift in East Anglia to be due to a major glaciation of the same 
intensity as those that produced the Norwich Brickearth and the Great 
Chalky Boulder Clay, respectively, for the following reasons. Deposits 
of this age are not widespread, or at least have not yet been identified 
(possibly because of the absence of human industries) at more than a 
few localities. They occur more frequently in the valleys, but here 
again the evidence is conflicting, for on both the slopes and bottoms of 
the valleys Mousterian Man left ' floors ' containing Combe Capelle 
and Levallois types, as discovered near Ipswich by Miss Layard and 
Mr. Reid Moir. Probably all these industries, however, are referable 
to Early Mousterian, whereas the glaciation was apparently Middle to 
Late Mousterian. 

To revert for a few moments to the pre-Upper-Chalky-Drift interval, 
let us consider the conditions that obtained in the river-valleys while 
the lake-areas were being silted up. The valleys had been partly infilled 
with Chalky Boulder Clay and its associated sands and gravels. The 
melting and retreat of the ice not only produced in the plateau-country 
spreads of glacieluvial gravel containing Chalky and Jurassic debris, 
but must have resulted in floods descending the valleys. A period, 
first of erosion and later of aggradation, appears to have set in, and the 
river-terraces situated at from 50 feet (River Yare) to 70-80 feet (River 
Stour) above present river-level were formed. The streams were doubt- 
less braided, and, as they wandered to and fro in the valleys, formed 
gravel-flats of which the range from bank to bank extended from one to 
three miles. The terrace-materials are frequently indistinguishable 
from glacial gravels, and had undoubtedly the same origin. But in 
them rolled Chellian and Early Acheulian implements, especially hand- 
axes, are occasionally found. In particular, at Whitlingham, in the valley 
of the Yare near Norwich, Messrs. J. E. Sainty and H. H. Halls made 
a wonderful collection of nearly 300 implements, of which a few were 
rolled and striated Chellian types, but the majority unrolled and probably 
of Late Acheulian age. The absence of evidence of a land-surface and 
of peaty bands suggests that Acheulian Man was following the retreating 
ice-sheet, possibly at no great distance from it, and was temporarily 
encamping on gravel-banks adjoining the streams. Although negative 
evidence is never entirely satisfac ory, we may recall that no beds of 
peat or planty layers have been recorded in the lake-like areas of brick- 
earth that occupy hollows in the Chalky Boulder Clay of Norfolk ; it is 
conceivable that, being nearer the ice-margin, the area was subjected 
to more rigorous conditions and more scour from melt-waters than the 
country farther south. 

At another interesting locality, Dovercourt, near Harwich, the ancient 
gravels of the river Stour lying at about 74 ft. above the river-level 
yielded to W. C. Underwood a series of implements and bones. The 
implements included rare Chellian types and a large collection of Early 
and Late Acheulian axes, unrolled and unscratched. The mammalian 


bones did not represent a distinctive fauna, but included fallow-deer, 
mammoth, and Rhinoceros leptorhinus. In a second (later) terrace of 
brickearth lying at a few feet above river-level at Stutton, Corbicula 
fluminalis occurred in association with other land and freshwater shells. 
This was the first appearance of Corbicula fluminalis in East Anglia 
since the late Pliocene (Cromer Forest-bed and Weybourn Crag), and 
in time (post-Chellian to Upper Acheulian) appears to correspond approxi- 
mately with its appearance elsewhere in the British area. We have no 
evidence that it was present in England during the earlier (pre-Chalky 
Jurassic Boulder Clay) interglacial interval. 

Our picture of East Anglia at the time of Acheulian and Early Mousterian 
Man will be completed by a glance at the Cambridge district, at present 
under re-examination by the officers of the Geological Survey. Already 
available to us, however, are the valuable results collected over a 
period of years by Prof. J. E. Marr, Prof. W. B. R. King, and the 
Cambridge school. In this district the Great Chalky Boulder Clay 
covers much of the higher ground, the river deposits being of later date, 
with the possible though not probable exception of the Barrington 
gravels. It is important to note that the Great Chalky Boulder Clay 
Ice retreated sufficiently from the area of the Wash to permit the Cam 
and Ouse to flow northwards into an early representative of the North 
Sea, and to allow the warm-water mollusc Corbicula fluminalis to re- 
establish itself at numerous localities in the area. Prof. Marr shows 
that aggradation of the valleys took place after the glaciation and re- 
treat of the ice, the climate being at first rather warm, but later becoming 
cooler. During this stage, valley-gravels such as the Lower Barnwell 
Village Beds and lower evenly-bedded gravels of the Traveller's Rest 
Pit were formed ; they contain worn Chellian and fresh Acheulian 
implements, together with Corbicula fluminalis and remains of hippo- 
potamus. Succeeding these deposits are the unevenly-bedded gravels 
of the Traveller's Rest Pit, containing what appear to be La Micoque 
and Early Mousterian industries. It is Prof. Marr's belief that during 
this time of aggradation marine and freshwater conditions alternated 
in the lower part of the area of the Ouse drainage — the deltaic tracts 
of the March-Nar sea. Dr. J. D. Solomon, on the other hand, is in- 
clined to refer the interdigitated marine and freshwater deposits to a 
later stage. 

Resting upon the Early Mousterian gravels in Cambridgeshire is a 
deposit similar to that already referred to as Upper Boulder Clay, Upper 
Chalky Drift or Trail. ^ A subsequent period of erosion with minor 
periods of aggradation intervened, resulting in the formation of, first, 
the upper evenly-bedded gravels of the Traveller's Rest Pit, and later 
the Upper Barnwell Village and Barnwell Station Beds with a cold fauna, 
but without implements. 

From the surface-deposits of the district have been recorded Aurig- 
nacian, Solutrian, Magdalenian and Azilio-Tardenoisian implements, 

' Mr. S. Hazzledine Warren in 1924 suggested that the Trail of the Thames 
basin was of post-Mousterian age, but thought that it might be as late as 


but their relationship to the river-gravels, and particularly to the last 
cold episode of the Barnwell Station Beds, has not been determined. 

The succession at the well-known locality of High Lodge, Mildenhall, 
raises problems which have not yet been solved. Prof. Marr recog- 
nised an Upper and a Lower Chalky Boulder Clay separated by gravels 
and brickearths which have yielded numerous implements of so-called 
Mousterian type, but including hand-axes related to the pre-Mousterian 
industry in Germany. The workmanship resembles somewhat that 
of the Clactonian flake-industry and may, according to Miss Dorothy 
Garrod, be a development from it. In the present state of our know- 
ledge, we can only correlate the Upper Boulder Clay of this area with 
the Upper Chalky Drift, and the Lower Boulder Clay with the Chalky- 
Jurassic facies. 

Traces of Man's existence in the area after the formation of the Upper 
Chalky Drift of southern Norfolk and Suffolk can be found only in the 
surface-deposits. These usually occur on the slopes or floors of valleys. 
Mr. Reid Moir has found what he claims to be implements of Mousterian 
manufacture in the Upper Chalky Drift (Boulder Clay) near Ipswich, 
but agreement on the nature of the flaking has not yet been secured. 
Moreover, he has recently stated that he has found the same type in 
the upper part of the Chalky-Jurassic Boulder Clay — a claim which, if 
admitted, would be difficult to reconcile with our ideas of the strati- 
graphical sequence. However, on the slopes of a small valley near 
Ipswich Mr. Moir has found a succession of floors, the two uppermost 
of which contain Upper Mousterian and Aurignacian implements respec- 
tively. These floors prove that the local and minor topographical 
features must have attained their present form before Upper Mousterian 
times, for only hill-wash (containing Solutrian blades) covers the deposits. 
Even more significant is his discovery of an excellent section at the 
bottom of the Gipping Valley, where at a depth of 15 feet below the river 
alluvium (about i foot to 5 feet below O.D.) is a peaty loam containing 
a floor of Early Mousterian (Combe-Capelle) age, associated with bones 
of reindeer. This peaty bed was succeeded by a blue loam with Early 
Solutrian blades, the whole being covered by gravel with many derived 
implements. The surface-deposits of sand and loam here contain 
Magdalenian and Neolithic types. In the estuary of the river Orwell, 
below Ipswich, the well-known ' Submerged Forest ' or peat-bed, lying 
at about 30 feet or more below O.D. and containing teeth of mammoth, 
is covered first by shingly gravel and then by alluvial mud with 
peaty partings. At the base of the latter is a floor, believed to be of 
Magdalenian age. 

The relationship of the industries of Aurignacian and Magdalenian 
Man to the glacial episodes thus cannot be determined in the Ipswich 
district, but there is evidence, like that in the Fen country, of a subsi- 
dence since Solutrian times. For the requisite connecting link we must 
turn to north-western Norfolk, where there is a Boulder Clay still younger 
than any yet mentioned. This ' Brown Boulder Clay ' was recognised 
long ago by the officers of the Geological Survey as the latest Boulder 
Clay of the Wash area, being very different lithologically from the Chalky 

D 2 


Boulder Clay upon which it sometimes rests. In its erratics, as also 
in the mineral composition of its matrix, it resembles the Hessle Boulder 
Clay of the coast-sections of Yorkshire, a deposit which lies above the 
Upper Purple Boulder Clay. The easternmost exposure of this Brown 
Boulder Clay is seen at Morston, near Blakeney, where Mr. Solomon 
has demonstrated that it overlies a raised beach, which in turn fringes 
and is banked against the western edge of the Blakeney Esker and Cromer 
Moraine. Obviously, this important discovery shows that the raised 
beach is later than the disturbance that produced the hummocks of 
Contorted Drift, and also than the Ridge (Cannon-shot) gravels ; still 
younger, therefore, is the Brown Boulder Clay. Mr. Solomon argues 
that the Brown Boulder Clay cannot have been produced by the same 
glaciation as the Upper Chalky Drift — a conclusion supported by the 
fact that no Brown Boulder Clay or its outwash material is found in the 
Cromer Moraine. 

At several sites in or near Hunstanton Mr. Reid Moir has found 
Middle Aurignacian burins, scrapers, points and cores in the Brown 
Boulder Clay. At one of these, the Gasworks Pit, the arrangement 
of glacial gravels, boulder clay and made ground is somewhat confused ; 
at another, the section at the southern end of the Esplanade, the Boulder 
Clay bed from which he actually obtained the implements has since 
been removed in the course of ' improvements.' The state of pre- 
servation and patination of the implements is similar to that of other 
flints in the Brown Boulder Clay. Thus we have here evidence of a 
glaciation subsequent to the occupation of the area by Aurignacian Man, 
but a glaciation which, as shown by the thinning oflF of the Brown Boulder 
Clay, did not reach farther south-eastwards than the north-western 
margin of Norfolk. That this glaciation is not likely to be the same as 
that which produced the Upper Chalky Drift and Trail of Suffolk is 
indicated by (a) the absence of Brown Boulder Clay and its outwash 
material in the Contorted Drift and Ridge gravels, and (b) the evidence 
of an interval between these deposits as represented by the raised beach 
of Morston. Were it not for this raised beach, however, we might be 
tempted to regard the Upper Chalky Drifts and Coombe Rock with 
their derived Mousterian and Levalloisian implements as the extra-glacial 
phenomena of the Brown Boulder Clay ice, due to snow-sludge and 
slumping under cold conditions. 

Such, then, is the most complete succession in England of glacial and 
other deposits associated with the remains of Early Man — a succession 
to which the term ' standard ' may reasonably be applied. The attempt 
to trace the succession throughout England and Wales is probably 
worth while, although we shall find that, in the present state of our 
knowledge, and perhaps because of the less favourable conditions for 
the preservation of the remains of plants and animals and Man, minor 
difficulties of correlation have still to be faced. 

In endeavouring to recognise our sequence in Lincolnshire we have 
to travel to Kirmington, in the vicinity of the Humber, before reaching 



a multiple succession of glacial deposits. The deposits filling the 
Kirmington Channel were investigated in detail by a British Association 
Committee. The report of the Committee showed that the Purple 
Boulder Clay of the district (known from sections farther north in York- 
shire to be due to a later glaciation than the Scandinavian Drift) was 
succeeded first by sand, then laminated silts with estuarine shells and 
containing peat with marsh plants and fresh-water shells, next gravel, 
and, finally, ' Hessle ' Boulder Clay. The plants indicated a sub-arctic 
climate ; the estuarine shells recorded were Cardmm edule and Scrobi- 
cularia ptperata. The ' Hessle ' Boulder Clay here is that of inland 
sections and is apparently not the equivalent of that of the coast-sections, 
which is to be correlated with the Brown Boulder Clay of Hunstanton. 
The sands, silts and gravels may thus correspond to similar beds at Hoxne. 
The Purple Boulder Clay has usually been regarded as the time-equivalent 
of the Great Chalky Boulder Clay west of the Lmcolnshire Wolds, a 
deposit which continues into the Eastern Counties as the Chalky-Jurassic 
and Chalky-Neocomian Boulder Clay, but the possibility of there being 
two Purple Boulder Clays must be borne in mind. The correlation of 
the Kirmington series with our standard succession will be open to 
doubt until the laminated silts or associated beds yield implements. 
Mr. J. P. T. Burchell's recent discovery of Early Mousterian (Clactonian) 
implements in the ' Hessle ' Boulder Clay ( = ? the Upper Purple Boulder 
Clay) of Kirmington is of great interest, for it suggests that the Purple 
Boulder Clay at the base of the Kirmington series is the Lower Purple 
Boulder Clay, a conclusion confirmed, in his opinion, by its petrographic 
characters. Although Corbicula fluminalis has not been found at Kirm- 
ington, it is recorded in gravels above a Purple Boulder Clay elsewhere 
in northern Lincolnshire. 


So graphic a word-picture of glacial conditions in Yorkshire has been 
painted by Messrs. Kendall and Wroot that I need only refer to their 
book on The Geology of Yorkshire and recall that, as in East Anglia, 
a succession of at least three definite Boulder Clays has been established : 
the lowermost or Basement Clay containing numerous Scandinavian 
erratics, the Purple Clays (the ' Middle Series ' of Mr. J. W. Stather), 
and the Hessle Clay. Each has its special characters, and these throw 
light on its origin and on the course of the ice-movement. Unlike East 
Anglia, however, no datable interglacial faunas and floras have been found, 
and no very definite traces of Early Palaeolithic Man. The relationships 
of the one implement obtained (of Acheulian type, from near Huntow) 
are obscure. What are claimed to be implements in chert, of supposed 
Early Chellian age, have recently been discovered in the moraines, and 
on the Moors, of Nidderdale. The sketches of these unabraded rock- 
fragments are unconvincing to a geologist, but if the workmanship is 
accepted by archzeologists, the occurrence of relatively unabraded Early 
Chellian or even Mousterian implements in such late-glacial deposits 
associated with retreat-phenomena seems to upset our tentative sequence. 
Discoveries by Mr. J. P. T. Burchell of Aurignacian implements near 


Flamborough, in a late-glacial deposit, which he regards as the equivalent 
of the coastal Hessle Boulder Clay, compare closely with the implements 
from the Hunstanton Boulder Clay, although the officers of the Geological 
Survey would prefer to regard the deposit in which they were found 
as a local kind of Coombe Rock. In the gravels of Kelsey Hill and 
Burstwick near Hull, long famous for their molluscan faunas (which 
include Corbicula fluminalis), and regarded by geologists as genetically 
connected with and overlying a Purple Boulder Clay, Mr. Burchell has 
found Early Mousterian artefacts ; as he rightly points out, the strati- 
graphical relationships may thus be similar to those at Hoxne, since he 
found below the gravels at one locality a boulder clay which he identified, 
from its lithological characters, as Lower Purple Boulder Clay. 

Sections have been described where two beds of the Purple Boulder 
Clay, separated by sands and gravels, have been observed. Prof. 
Kendall and Drs. HoUingworth, Raistrick, and Trotter are now inclined 
to regard these two boulder clays as due to separate glaciations, with 
an intervening interglacial phase. Dr. Raistrick would correlate the 
Lower Purple Boulder Clay with the early maximum of the Yorkshire 
Dales glaciation, and the Upper Purple Boulder Clay with the Vale of 
York maximum (Main Dales glaciation) and the passage of the Lake 
District ice over Stainmore. Drs. HoUingworth and Trotter agree 
in linking the Upper Purple Boulder Clay with their Early Scottish 
glaciation and the eastward travel of Lake District ice. Thus Yorkshire 
would appear to have suffered four glacial episodes (as Clement Reid 
originally thought), comparable with those of East Anglia, the Lower 
and Upper Purple Boulder Clays corresponding to the Chalky-Jurassic 
Boulder Clay and Upper Chalky Drift, respectively. The return of 
Corbicula fluminalis to the British area here appears to be of correlative 
value, for the Kelsey Hill gravels containing it overlie the Lower and 
underlie the Upper Purple Boulder Clay ; but if, as Lamplugh was 
inclined to think, the specimens were glacially derived from a river- 
deposit lying towards the east, the gravels might be associated with the 
retreat of a later ice-sheet, possibly that which formed the Upper Purple 
Boulder Clay. The present archaeological evidence does not support 
the latter view. Moreover, recent work by Mr. W. S. Bisat shows 
that both Upper Purple Boulder Clay and Hessle Clay overlie the Kelsey 

In one respect, however, the Yorkshire succession supplements our 
knowledge of that in East Anglia, for below the Basement Clay or most 
ancient Till at Sewerby is a preglacial cliff and beach containing the 
remains of hippopotamus, the straight-tusked elephant and the leptorhine 
rhinoceros. These mammalian forms are often associated with imple- 
ments of Chellian Man, although they may persist to later times. At 
first sight it appears that here we have another link with the Cromer 
succession, if the beach is correlated with the Cromer Forest-bed. In 
the sand-dunes overlying the beach but underlying the Basement Clay 
appears a fauna consisting of mammoth, urus, bison and Irish elk. The 
sand-dunes, together with a bed of chalk-rubble below them, are evidence 
of an old land-surface. 



It is generally agreed that the Basement Clay of Holderness finds its 
equivalent in Durham in the Scandinavian Drift discovered by Dr. C. T. 
Trechmann in hollows in the Magnesian Limestone near Sunderland. 
Overlying this deposit is a bed of loess, which was in all probability an 
interglacial deposit ; it is succeeded by Purple (Cheviot) Boulder Clay. 
The only record of Older Palaeolithic Man in the district is that of a 
quartzite implement of Chellian type from below the Purple (Cheviot) 
Boulder Clay. Correlation based on this one implement of crude work- 
manship (if it be accepted as an artefact) would be premature. 

Northumberland and the Lake District. 
Our next problem is the question of the linking-up of the boulder 
clays of Yorkshire, Durham and Northumberland with those of the 
Irish Sea area. Recent work of the officers of the Geological Survey, 
admirable in its detail, has established for the Solway-Eden district 
three main ice advances and retreats, namely, (i) a Scottish ice-advance, 
(2) a maximum combined Lake District ice-advance which carried 
boulder clay eastwards over the Tyne gap and over the Stainmore gap 
into the Tees valley, and (3) a Scottish re-advance. There also appears 
to be evidence of a weathered boulder clay earlier than any of these 
episodes. In his valuable paper on the glaciation of eastern Edenside and 
the Alston block, Dr. F. M. Trotter has traced an ose-train westwards from 
Hexham by way of the Tyne gap, and has thus connected the maximum 
glaciation of the Lake District with that which yielded the coastal Hessle 
Boulder Clay. Previous to this, ice-sheets which advanced over Stain- 
more during the onset of the Early Scottish and Lake District glaciations 
fed the glaciers which helped to form the Purple Boulder Clays of York- 
shire, replete with boulders of Shap granite, Borrowdale lavas, etc. 
Drs. Trotter and HoUingworth are therefore inclined to correlate the 
Upper Purple Boulder Clay with the Early Scottish advance, and the 
Lower Purple Boulder Clay with the early weathered boulder clay of 
Silloth, and other places. 

The Irish Sea and Cheshire Basin. 

The main glaciation of the Irish Sea region extended to the coastal 
areas of North Wales and far into the Cheshire Plain. As is well known, 
during its retreat-stages at the end of this period, the ice gave rise to 
the glacial lakes Newport, Buildwas and Lapworth, and caused important 
diversions of river-drainage in the case of the Severn and other systems. 
In North Wales a boulder clay from the Irish Sea ice sealed up the mouths 
of several well-known caves in the Carboniferous Limestone, containing 
floors of Middle Aurignacian implements. Notable amongst these 
were Cae-gwyn and Ffynnon Beuno, in Denbighshire. Although for 
a time some difference of opinion was held as to whether or not the 
undisturbed boulder clay of the Vale of Clwyd actually sealed up the 
caves, the consensus of opinion was finally in favour of that view. The 
Snowdonian and Arenig ice-sheets seem to have been able to prevent 
the Irish Sea ice from advancing far into the hilly region of North Wales, 


for the deposits of Welsh and Northern Drift often lie side by side. It 
is now generally believed that the Welsh and Irish Sea ice-sheets were 
practically contemporaneous, although the northern ice seems to have 
arrived first and weakened and retreated first ; thus, on the Welsh Borders 
it was overridden by the Arenig Ice which carried Welsh erratics as far 
as Wolverhampton and Birmingham — indeed, beyond the limits pre- 
viously reached by the northern ice. That this phenomenon was but 
evidence of the give-and-take of glaciation has, however, been demon- 
strated by the officers of the Geological Survey, who have traced out 
the junction between the two ice-sheets, marked by morainic belts, 
kettles, meres and peat-bogs, along a line approximately through Wrexham 
and Ellesmere towards Shrewsbury. On the shores of Cardigan Bay, 
North Wales, and Lancashire, and also in Anglesey there are, however, 
two beds of boulder clay, sometimes separated by sands and gravels. 
In some places the boulder clays differ in composition, but in others 
they resemble one another closely. Also, Dr. Bernard Smith noted near 
Ellesmere, in the Cheshire Plain, the presence of a boulder clay lying 
above mounds of sands and gravels like those that overlie the boulder 
clay of the Newport district. The two coastal boulder clays have not 
yet been traced inland, but general opinion is that only the lower extends 
to Newport and Buildwas (the main Irish Sea glaciation), while it is the 
upper clay which seals the caves at Cae-gwyn and Ffynnon Beuno. In 
the mountain-district of North Wales, the evidence of two glaciations 
has not been clearly worked out, but several investigators have observed 
features referable to two ice-advances with retreat-stages between. In 
fine, the Lower Boulder Clay of Lancashire, Cheshire and Wales would 
appear to be correlatable with the Early Scottish glaciation of the Lake 
District, and the Upper Boulder Clay with the Lake District Maximum 
and Hessle Boulder Clay. 

The Severn Drainage. 
A study of the overflow-channels of the extra-glacial Lake Lapworth 
(with its earlier stages. Lakes Newport and Buildwas) at Ironbridge, 
which were formed during the retreat of the northern ice, has enabled 
Dr. L. J. Wills in a masterly paper to connect the terraces of the river 
Severn below the Ironbridge Gorge with the glacial phenomena of the 
Cheshire basin above it. He regards the ' Main Terrace ' of the Severn 
as corresponding to his Stage II and subsequent stages of the ice-retreat, 
as deduced from glacial lake-levels and terrace-gradients. Another 
connecting-link with the drifts and river-deposits of the Midland area is 
provided by the overflow channel at Gnosall, which discharges into Church 
Eaton Brook and so into the Trent Basin. Mr. E. E. L. Dixon informs me 
that with this channel is connected a valley-train of sand and gravel that 
occurs at a low level, and is therefore later than the old Trent river- terrace. 

The Avon-Stour Area. 
The absence or rarity of mammalian remains and implements in the 
terraces of the Lower Severn has rendered very difficult Dr. Wills 's efforts 
to correlate these deposits with those of the river Thames. Meanwhile, 


Miss M. Tomlinson's excellent work on the similar deposits of the river 
Avon and its tributary, the Stour, enables us to continue the story over 
the Moreton watershed into the Evenlode Valley, where Dr. K. S. Sand- 
ford has picked up the threads. The Drifts of the Avon-Stour region 
consist of high-level gravelly deposits mostly containing boulders foreign 
to the district. These Drifts antedate the fluviatile deposits, which 
Miss Tomlinson has classified as Terraces No. 4, No. 3 and No. 2, in 
order of decreasing age. The earliest Drift consists of Plateau Gravels, 
and the latest, termed the Moreton Drift, is a chalky deposit which in 
places has the character of a boulder clay derived from the north. The 
Moreton Drift, which Miss Tomlinson would correlate with the Chalky 
Boulder Clay of the country farther east, penetrates the pre-existing 
Moreton gap into the Evenlode drainage, and, on considerations of 
gradient, seems to be connected with the Wolvercote Terrace-gravels 
of the Oxford district. Terraces Nos. 3 and 4 of the Stour-Avon drainage 
mark an aggradation accompanied by a ' warm ' fauna (including Corbi- 
ciila fluminalis, Hippopotamus, and Elephas antiquus). It is to be noted 
that Corbicula fluminalis here appears at about the same horizon as in 
the east of England. Terrace No. 2 carries a cold fauna (including 
mammoth and woolly rhinoceros), and, in the opinion of Dr. Wills, is 
to be correlated with his ' Main Terrace ' of the river Severn, and there- 
fore with the maximum glaciation of the Irish Sea area. Unfortunately, 
no implements that might assist in correlation have been found. 

The Upper Thames. 

To Dr. K. S. Sandford's valuable work we owe our detailed know- 
ledge of the sequence of events in the region of the Upper Thames, where 
the problems are of exceptional difficulty. Dr. Sandford has recently 
(1932) correlated the Plateau Drift (containing Scandinavian erratics) with 
the Scandinavian Drift (Norwich Brickearth) of Eastern England, and 
the later-formed 100-140 ft. Terrace of the river Thames containing 
Chellian implements, with the overlying sands and gravels of East Anglia. 

The Chalky-Jurassic Boulder Clay of the east of England does not 
reach the Oxford district, but the early retreat-stages of the ice may 
be represented by the formation of the Wolvercote Terrace. Next 
follow the Lower and Upper Summertown-Radley Terraces, with cold 
and warm faunas, respectively, which Dr. Sandford would now correlate 
with the lower brickearths at Hoxne. Thus the succeeding Lower 
Gravels of the Wolvercote Channel with their warm fauna and late 
Acheulian and Micoque implements would be the equivalent of the 
corresponding (Upper Acheulian) gravels of Hoxne and other East Anglian 
localities. Corbicula fluminalis appears in the Upper Summertown- 
Radley Terrace in association with the straight-tusked elephant and 
hippopotamus — that is, at just about the horizon at which we have by 
now been led to expect it. The upper beds of the Wolvercote Channel, 
of cold-temperate character, with their single Mousterian implement, 
are correlated with the Mousterian brickearths farther east, and the 
warp at the top of the channel with the Upper Chalky Drift, for it yields 
evidence of probable frozen-soil conditions. The latest deposits of the 


Oxford district are then correlatable with the various post-Mousterian stages 
of East AngHa, as shown in the table accompanying this address. The 
Oxford succession can thus be fitted in fairly satisfactorily with our standard 
succession on the one hand and the Stour-Avon succession on the other. 

The Lower Thames. 

The terraces of the Lower Thames have been the subject of numerous 
papers. Thanks to the efforts of Messrs. Chandler, Leach, Reginald 
Smith, the officers of the Geological Survey (particularly Mr. H. Dewey 
and Mr. H. G. Dines), and other workers, our knowledge of the succession 
is now well founded, and I need only summarise the results of their 
labours. The river-deposits seem to be later than the Chalky-Jurassic 
Boulder Clay. The loo-ft. terrace marks a period of aggradation, and 
is divisible into three beds of sandy gravel separated from one another 
in certain cases by deposits of marly loam. In the lowest gravel are 
large cores and flakes of the Clactonian industry, associated with Elephas 
atitiquus and Rhinoceros leptorhimis. The upper portion of this bed and 
the base of the succeeding loam contain land and fresh-water moUusca, 
including Corbicula fluminalis and Theodoxus cantianus. The middle 
gravel contains unabraded Early Acheulian hand-axes, and in its upper 
part, twisted ovates (Late Acheulian). In a brickearth of rather later 
age have been found Late Acheulian and Early Levalloisian ovate imple- 
ments. The 50-ft. terrace contains rolled Acheulian implements and 
affords evidence of corrasion during the warm period when its lower 
beds were formed, and aggradation during the colder times when its 
upper beds were laid down. The Levalloisian tortoise-core industry 
appears approximately at the level of this terrace. The Crayford brick- 
earth, which succeeds it, contains at its base Levalloisian flakes ; also, 
the cold fauna found at this time of aggradation foreshadows the oncoming 
of the arctic conditions which gave rise to the Coombe deposits, which may 
be correlated with the Upper Chalky Drift. The Coombe deposits here, 
as Dewey figuratively says, ' put an end to Levallois Man.' At Bapchild, 
in the Medway Valley, Mr. H. G. Dines found in the Coombe deposit 
Early Levalloisian implements in a battered and scratched state. These 
had probably been transported for a short distance. Late Levalloisian 
implements were found at the base of a brickearth which overlies the 
Coombe deposits, and Aurignacian (or even later) implements above 
them. The evidence of the Whitehall and Lea Valley deposits indicates 
uplift, erosion and aggradation under cold conditions, the ' Ponders 
End stage ' of Mr. Hazzledine Warren. The age of these deposits has 
not been established with certainty, but the flakes found in them have 
been doubtfully regarded as Aurignacian ; they are, in any case, pre- 
Neolithic. In company with other investigators, I am much tempted 
to correlate the Ponders End stage with the post- Aurignacian Hunstanton 
and Hessle Boulder Clays, for the cold conditions which brought boulder 
clay so far south as the Wash must have had a marked influence on the 
fauna and flora of the Thames Valley. 

The correlation of the deposits and industries of the Upper Thames 
and Lower Thames has not been effected without some difficulty, but 


a recent and most useful review of the problem has led Dr. Sandford 
to general conclusions similar to those at which I had independently 
arrived. Dr. Sandford now correlates the 100-140 ft. terrace with 
the Caversham and Dartford Heath Chellian gravels, and his Wolvercote 
Terrace with the Chalky-Jurassic Boulder Clay. Further, he equates 
the Lower Summertown-Radley Terrace with the Swanscombe Clac- 
tonian-Acheulian gravels of the loo-ft. terrace, and the lower beds of the 
Wolvercote Channel with the 50-ft. or Taplow Terrace. The upper beds 
of the Channel are thus correlated with the Lower Crayford Brickearth 
(Early Mousterian). The oldest ' warp ' of the Oxford district would then 
appear to be comparable with the Coombe Rock (Upper Mousterian). 

At Clacton, on the Essex Coast, Mr. Hazzledine Warren has discovered 
a river-channel of which the lower beds contain Clactonian flakes 
associated with elephant and other mammalian remains, and plants, 
indicative of warm conditions. Derived specimens of Corbicula fluminalis 
are also found. Correspondence is here suggested with the loo-ft. 
terrace of the Thames, although the deposit lies at only 43 to 48 feet 
above O.D. A few miles farther north, at a level of 74 feet above O.D., 
lie the gravels of the river Stour ; also, the Stutton low terrace with 
Corbicula fliiminaUs, already mentioned. Thus the Stour deposits, 
which on field evidence appear to be more recent than the Chalky- 
Jurassic Boulder Clay, are probably to be correlated on the one hand 
with the Clacton gravel and loo-ft. terrace of the Thames, and on the 
other with the Acheulian deposits of Ipswich, Hoxne and Whitlingham, 
referred to earlier in this address. 

The Midland Area. 
We have now closed our traverse, but we shall hardly be able to avoid 
the feeling that there are weak links in our chain of evidence, especially 
concerning the south-western part of the Midlands and the borders of 
the Irish Sea, where the difficulties are greatest and the traces of Early 
Man scanty or absent. It remains to see whether any cross-ties of 
evidence, which will serve as checks on our correlations, can be obtained 
by way of the central and northern Midlands. Unfortunately, dis- 
coveries of the implements of Palasolithic Man are rare and sporadic 
in the counties of Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire and Lincolnshire. 
A few cave-deposits, like those of Cresswell Crags, have yielded a rich 
harvest of implements and confirmed the time-succession of Palzeolithic 
industries, but the beds containing them are unfortunately not in contact 
with glacial deposits. The irregular driftless areas of Lincolnshire, 
Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire and Staffordshire suggest considerable 
denudation in late-glacial times rather than non-deposition of glacial 
detritus. In many parts of the area the officers of the Geological Survey 
have been unable to distinguish with certainty more than one boulder 
clay with associated sands and gravels, although Mr. R. M. Deeley long 
ago claimed to be able to distinguish three or even four in the Trent 
basin, separated by interglacial sands and gravels. Much excavation 
took place in the valley of the Trent after Chalky Boulder Clay times, 
and the oldest Trent gravel is more recent than the glacial deposits ; 


again, it has yielded but few implements, and those appear to be of 
Late Acheulian and Levalloisian types. Some part of the Irish Sea 
ice is known to have flowed over into the Trent drainage (as in Doveholes, 
the Rudyard gorge and the Gnosall gap), but the exact relationship of the 
various glacial and interglacial stages has yet to be established. In 
many cases the ' Older River Gravels ' are intimately connected with 
late-glacial flood-deposits, the transition being gradual and difficult to 
trace. In the areas subjected to the influence of the Pennine and the 
Chalky Boulder Clay glaciers, the two ice-streams often appear to have 
met and coalesced, continuing their southward journey as though they 
were almost, if not exactly, synchronous. The faunas recorded from 
the valley-gravels are often of mixed character, including both the cold 
and warm faunas referred to above. In the case of old records, it is 
possible that collecting may not have been carried out with discrimina- 
tion, but in the case of modern records the explanation must lie in the 
erosion and redeposition of gravels, whereby the faunas have been mixed. 

In one area, that of Kenilworth, recent re-examination of the deposits 
of the Avon basin has yielded to Mr. F. W. Shotton what are possibly 
Early Acheulian hand-axes of quartzite. These were obtained from 
the Baginton gravels, which he regards as interglacial, for they lie below 
the local Chalky Boulder Clay at Lillington (the Upper Chalky- Jurassic 
Boulder Clay of Dr. HoUingworth) and above a lower Boulder Clay 
containing Keuper debris (the Lower Chalky-Jurassic Boulder Clay 
of the same author). The gravels contain a cold fauna, including 
mammoth and woolly rhinoceros. From the fluvio-glacial gravels above 
the Chalky Boulder Clay Mr. Shotton has obtained a doubtful Leval- 
loisian flake. The stratigraphical relationships of these rare implements 
have not been established with certainty, and probably for this reason 
the succession cannot be correlated entirely satisfactorily with that in 
eastern England. Difiiculties also arise in the correlation of these deposits 
with those of the Avon-Stour area described by Miss Tomlinson, but 
future work may be expected to resolve them. 

At Biddenham and Kempston, near Bedford, in the Great Ouse Valley, 
Mr. H. Dewey has drawn attention to the occurrence of gravel at about 
40 feet above present river-level, the lower evenly-bedded portion of 
which contains core hand-axes and Levalloisian disc-implements and 
blades. The upper portion of the gravel, which breaks its way irregu- 
larly into the lower beds, ravining and contorting the even bedding, 
contains masses of Chalky Boulder Clay and heavily rolled implements. 
The masses of Boulder Clay (Mr. Dewey argues from the field evidence) 
were obviously frozen hard when they disrupted the lower gravel. As 
he rightly suggests, the succession is similar to that at Ipswich and at 
Hoxne. Mousterian implements have been found at St. Neots by 
Mr. C. F. Tebbutt, in gravels of the Great Ouse, 10 feet above the river. 
Prof. Marr considers the succession here to be similar to that of the 
deposits of the river Cam. 

Other records of Palaeolithic industries in Britain are so scanty as to 
yield little evidence for purposes of comparison. Plateau Gravels in 
the Bristol district have been compared by Prof. L. S. Palmer with 


the clay-with-flints, and an abraded AcheuHan implement, with remains 
of mammoth, woolly rhinoceros and the straight-tusked elephant, have 
been found in the loo-ft. terrace of the river Avon. The 50-ft. terrace 
has yielded an abraded late Acheulian implement, and the overlying 
brickearth a Mousterian point. The neighbouring caves of Aveline's 
Hole and Cough's Cave are well known for their Late Aurignacian and 
Magdalenian industries. But in this driftless area, the relations of the 
various cave and other deposits to the terraces and drifts farther north 
and north-east have yet to be satisfactorily elucidated. 

From Barnwood, near Gloucester, Mr. M. C. Burkitt has described 
an axe-like implement of possibly Late Acheulian or Early Mousterian 
age, found in gravel and associated with bones of mammoth and woolly 
rhinoceros. A neighbouring gravel-pit yielded a Mousterian point, also 
accompanied by remains of mammoth. 

I have as yet made no reference to recent discoveries of prehistoric 
human industries in definite geological settings outside Britain. We 
live in an age when such discoveries are made in rapid succession. To 
review the investigations on the border-line of geology and archaeology 
that have been prosecuted in various European countries, in Egypt, 
East Africa, South Africa and China, would take more space than is 
available to me. The labours of investigators too numerous to mention 
here have furnished valuable results, but they also serve to demonstrate 
that it would be premature to attempt world-wide correlations of the 
geological and climatic phenomena accompanying human industries. 
In particular, the correlation of British glacial episodes with those of the 
Alps, as established by Penck and Bruckner, seems always to have exer- 
cised a peculiar fascination for archaeologists. I have refrained from 
any such comparison, although nothing would appear to be simpler than 
to correlate the four major glacial episodes of Britain with the Giinz, 
Mindel, Riss and Wiirm ice-advances of the Eastern Alps. If the various 
human industries are broadly contemporaneous from the Alps to Britain, 
such a correlation would be strengthened, and the fifth glaciation of 
Britain (the Scottish re-advance) would be represented in the Alps by 
the Wiirm II or Buhl episode. In my opinion, however, it is still too 
early to claim that such a correlation has been established, for we have 
no proof (even if we admit the probability) that the first glaciation of the 
Alpine area was synchronous with that of eastern England. Moreover, 
reference to the works of such European authorities as Penck, Obermaier, 
Breuil, Wiegers and Wohlstedt, to mention only a few, shows astonishing 
differences of opinion regarding the correlation of the Alpine glacial 
and interglacial phases with human industries in other parts of Europe. 
In leaving the question still open, I would only remark in passing that a 
correlation such as that recently attempted by my friend Sir Arthur 
Keith is not likely to find favour among geologists. Sir Arthur uses the 
fourfold glaciations of the Eastern Alps in order to correlate the episodes 
with British glaciations ; then, since the sequence does not fit, he omits 
from the middle the Riss glaciation. Now, with all respect, I submit 
that this is like having your cake — in this instance an iced cake — as well 


as eating it ; Sir Arthur cannot both adopt the Alpine succession and 
abandon one member of the sequence because it does not accord. Satis- 
factory correlation will doubtless be possible in course of time, but it 
must needs await fresh investigation of the successions of the Rhine 
Valley and Low Countries and of the river-deposits of France, which 
may be regarded as connecting-links between the deposits of the Alpine 
area and those of eastern and southern England. 

The mention of southern England reminds me that within the limits 
of this address I have been unable to deal, even briefly, with the evidence 
of changes of level of the land and sea, and the consequent erosion and 
aggradation of the river-systems of Britain. In the area south of the 
river Thames glacial deposits as such (that is, as distinguished from 
deposits due to snow-sludge or movement of semi-frozen superficial 
material) are absent. Correlation must be effected, therefore, with 
river-terraces and raised beaches, and will depend on evidence of changes 
of level, combined with that of included implements. Information 
comes but slowly to hand, and the problems are exceptionally difficult. 
Two facts emerge : (i) the widespread submergence and aggradation 
of river-valleys in Acheulian times, and (2) the marked elevation and 
river-erosion of Mousterian times. The movements in southern and 
eastern England appear to have been differential, possibly of the isostatic 
type, rather than eustatic uplifts like those in the Mediterranean area 
described by Lamothe, Deperet, Gignoux and others. Nevertheless, 
the work that has been accomplished, notably by Prof. L. 8. Palmer, 
is promising of fruitful results. While leaving open the question of 
correlating changes of level throughout Britain, I have therefore attached 
his sequence to the table accompanying this address. 

Any attempt to measure the antiquity of Man in Britain in terms of 
years is bound to be speculative and unscientific so far as the geological 
evidence is concerned. No deposits similar to the van^e-clays of Sweden 
have yet been found in Britain. From the varvx-clays of Sweden, as 
is well known, G. de Geer and other workers have concluded that about 
13,500 years have elapsed since the receding front of the ice occupied 
a position in southern Scania. Using this as a basis, he dates the com- 
mencement of the Gothi-glacial sub-epoch of the last glaciation (? Mag- 
dalenian) as from 15,000 to 16,000 years ago. Possibly the earlier sub- 
epoch (Dani-glacial) may also be dated, but any extrapolation of the 
time-scale in years to glacial episodes before the latest (the maximum 
of which was marked by the Baltic moraine) is, as de Geer and Sollas 
have emphasised, to add to ' a hecatomb of erroneous dates.' 

In the foregoing review of our knowledge of British glacial deposits 
and their relationship to human industries, I have been compelled to 
summarise the work of a large number of investigators, many of whom 
I have been unable to mention by name. For this omission I crave 
pardon, and also for possibly misrepresenting their views in attempting to 
secure brevity, particularly when qualification of a bald statement would 
have been desirable. It may be that more agreement emerges from 
the foregoing suggested classification than might at first have been ex- 
pected, but it is certain that the facile correlations so often made, although 


not usually by British geologists, cannot have lasting value. In any 
case, I hope that this exposition of the state of our present knowledge 
and theories may have an historical use hereafter. 

Let me make a concluding summary by attempting a word-picture of 
Pleistocene conditions in the British area in so far as they affected the 
occupancy of the country by Early Man. We may assume that the 
connection of the Early Pliocene sea of the south-east of England with 
regions farther south was broken by an uplift of the Weald-English 
Channel region, which resulted in the formation of the ancestor of our 
present North Sea. In later Pliocene times, this sea became more and 
more restricted as its limits were forced northwards. With the removal 
of barriers to the migration of moUusca from the north, arctic species 
found their way in increasing numbers into East Anglia. Geographical 
and faunal changes about this time were so gradual and the effects of 
penecontemporaneous erosion so marked that it is by no means clear 
where we should draw the line between Pliocene and Pleistocene. In 
our picture we must visualise at this time a land-area populated by plants 
living under temperate conditions similar to those of the present day, and 
drained by a great river that carried down the remains of southern ' warm ' 
animals, such as the straight-tusked elephant, the hippopotamus and 
leptorhine rhinoceros. Occasionally, however, there were also delivered 
into the estuary the remains of cold-loving animals, while the sea with 
which it was connected was the home of a cold moUuscan fauna. The 
greater part of the east of England then seems to have been a land- 
surface, although there are now but few definite traces of it available 
for study. We have, however, the fissured surface of the Magnesian 
Limestone of Durham, the ancient sea-cliff of Chalk at Sewerby, and the 
surface of Pliocene deposits in Hertfordshire, Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex. 
Ice began to gather in Scandinavia, and eventually found its way across 
the North Sea ; its accumulation seems to have been accompanied by 
a submergence of the land. Boulders of characteristic Norwegian 
rocks were dropped on to the Scottish shores, particularly around the 
Moray Firth and Orkneys, and the ice-sheet itself appears to have 
impinged on the Durham and Yorkshire coasts. The evidence rather 
suggests that, by the time the ice-sheet reached the position of the present 
north-east coast, its force was spent, but its movement towards the south 
was more definite, and, possibly behaving like the Great Antarctic Barrier, 
it discharged its boulder-clay over the low ground of eastern Norfolk and 
Suffolk. Icebergs may also have invaded the Fen country by way of the 
Wash gap, dropping detritus even as far south-westwards as Oxford. 

In the long period of slow refrigeration which preceded this First 
Glacial Episode, Early Man must have passed through the primitive 
stages of his development as a tool-making animal, for the form and 
technique which characterise the subsequent Chellian implements 
could only have followed less easily-recognised efforts. The resemblance 
in fashion of flaking and the repetition of form observed in the rostro- 
carinate implements of the sub-Crag gravels is one of the strongest argu- 
ments for their human workmanship. Also, the adherence to type bespeaks 


the existence of even older and cruder forms. I must leave the debatable 
question with the picture of this very primitive man driven from his hunting- 
grounds by the advance of the first great ice-sheet, and only note in passing 
that the remains of Piltdown Man, although found in a Pleistocene gravel, 
are not datable with exactness, being accompanied by derived bones of 
Pliocene animals and flakes which, if referable to any particular period, 
must be attributed to the Chellian or even an earlier industry. 

The retreat of the Scandinavian ice appears to have been followed by 
a long interval, during the earlier stages of which the area of East Anglia 
was a shallow sea or lake, inhabited by a cold moUuscan fauna. Into 
its waters were discharged large quantities of sand and gravel, released 
from the waning ice-sheet. During the later stages of retreat the area 
was uplifted and the East Anglian valley-systems were carved out of the 
deposits of brickearth, gravel and sand. Little evidence is forthcoming 
regarding conditions in Yorkshire and northern England during this 
First Interglacial interval, but in the Midlands and Thames Valley certain 
high-level plateau-gravels may have originated as outwashes from the 
ice, and some of the oldest river-gravels may have been the products 
of the subsequent erosion and aggradation of the pre-existing valleys. 
By inference, Chellian Man advanced into such parts of the British area 
as were available to him, for, although we find no ' floors ' of unabraded 
tools of the Chellian industry, derived and abraded implements are not 
infrequent in later deposits. 

The First Interglacial interval was brought to a close by the develop- 
ment of ' home-grown ' ice -caps on the Scottish mountains, the Lake 
District and the Pennines. The chief glaciers thus produced appear 
to have developed and flowed east of the Pennines, possibly because 
of the cooling effects of the proximity of the Scandinavian ice, for the 
manner in which the earlier Cheviot ice and the Purple Boulder Clay 
ice hug the low ground to the East Coast, taking a southward course 
parallel to it, suggests that most of the North Sea was still filled with ice. 
The Lower Purple Boulder Clay ice does not appear to have risen 
sufficiently high to override the Lincolnshire Wolds westwards. On the 
west of this escarpment the Great Chalky Boulder Clay ice, augmented 
by the sheets which had flowed down the Yorkshire Plain (together 
with Lake District ice which had come over Stainmore), travelled up the 
valley of the Trent and down that of the Witham, fanning out across the 
low ground of the eastern Midlands. Part of the sheet, which crossed 
the Fen district, spread eastwards and southwards over East Anglia, 
reaching to Finchley in North London. Other portions of the ice- 
sheet spread south-westwards over the central Midlands and may have 
given rise to the most far-flung example we know, the Moreton Boulder 
Clay of the Cotswolds. The ice which had descended eastwards from 
the Pennines seems only to have been sufficiently powerful to travel 
southwards side by side with the Great Chalky Boulder Clay ice, and 
thus to have been elbowed into the Avon Valley. At the same time, 
ice appears to have advanced from the North Sea in a south-easterly to 
southerly direction on to the Norfolk Coast, thereby influencing the 
course of the Chalky-Neocomian and Chalky-Jurassic glaciers. 

Over the greater part of England this Second Glacial Episode was that 


of the maximum glaciation ; and we assume that CheUian, and perhaps 
Early Acheulian, Man retreated before it. The origin and provenance of 
the few implements found in the Cromer Till and Chalky-Jurassic Boulder 
Clay have been questioned ; if these implements demonstrate anything, 
they show that the ice advanced over a Chellian land-surface. 

Milder conditions caused the recession of the ice-sheets of the Second 
Glacial Episode, and the interglacial phase which followed was character- 
ised by a pronounced amelioration of climate, and an aggradation of the 
valleys. Little evidence is available for assessing the length of this 
interval, but there is reason to suppose that it was shorter than the first 
interglacial interval. Some diversions of drainage were caused in the 
more hilly country during the retreat-stages of the ice, but the main 
valley-systems were only enlarged and aggraded by swollen and detritus- 
laden streams fed by the melting ice. The change to a temperate climate 
is reflected in the return of Corbicula fluminalis to the British area, and 
in the rich fauna and flora found in numerous lake-deposits ; it is not 
surprising, therefore, that the evidence of the presence and activities 
of Early Man at this time is most abundant and satisfactory. Acheulian 
Man, in his middle and later stages of development, wandered over the 
country and encamped near meres and rivers, doubtless hunting the 
' warm ' big game, such as the straight-tusked elephant, hippopotamus, 
leptorhine rhinoceros, etc. He was succeeded as an occupant of the 
area by Mousterian Man, whose remains are usually (but not always) 
accompanied by evidence of colder conditions. Contemporary with the 
Acheulian industry was the interesting Clactonian type of flaking which 
may have marked a new human invasion from Central Europe. Climatic 
oscillations occurred during this interglacial stage, as indicated by the 
brief sojourn in eastern England of northern plants and animals ; also, 
the presence of faceted pebbles in some of the gravels points to vigorous 
wind-action, possibly connected with anticyclonic conditions during 
the retreat of the ice. In the main, the English area stood at a lower 
level than at present and, while the land oscillated in height from time 
to time, the story is one of gradual uplift, by reason of which the streams 
were able to erode their courses to lower levels, their braided sinuosities 
being restricted at the same time within narrower valleys. 

From the general absence of Acheulian and Lower Mousterian imple- 
ments in the north of England, even from the caves, we may conclude 
that the area was inaccessible because of its covering of ice. The Second 
Interglacial phase was brought to a close by cold conditions which, 
if not excessively severe, were sufficiently cold to produce Coombe 
deposits and Trail over the southern part of England, while a re-advance 
of the ice took place farther north. The most noteworthy effects of this 
re-advance were the production of the Cromer Moraine and the Upper 
Chalky Drift, in which, it is claimed, Mousterian implements have been 
incorporated from the pre-existing interglacial land-surface. The record 
of this, the Third Glaciation of East Anglia, cannot be distinguished 
with certainty farther north, but it may be represented by the Upper 
Purple Boulder Clay of Yorkshire in those cases where two Purple Boulder 
Clays with inters'ening sands and gravels can be identified. 

The ice that had gathered on the Southern Uplands of Scotland was 


joined by the Lake District ice and swept over Stainmore into the Tees 
Valley and also down the Tyne Valley. It also appeared to have filled 
the Irish Sea and to have advanced on to the Welsh Coast and across the 
Cheshire Plain to the Shropshire hills. 

The evidence for the Third Interglacial phase is not at present strati- 
graphically clear. By inference, the ice must have retreated on a large 
scale, for Aurignacian Man was able to establish himself on many sites 
and to reach the caves of Derbyshire and North Wales, and to leave, in 
the former case, examples of his art tnobilier. He was accompanied by 
a fauna of arctic and tundra type. The situation of his ' floors,' at present 
below sea-level at some localities, indicates that the land-area stood 
higher than now, so that communication with France and Spain must 
have been relatively easy. 

Corresponding with the evidence of a decrease of temperature in the 
Spanish and French cave-deposits, where the warm Aurignacian is 
followed by indications of a colder climate in the Magdalenian, is the 
development in northern England of great ice-sheets, the easternmost of 
which produced the Hessle Boulder Clay and was able to advance as far 
southwards as Hunstanton. Here its force was expended, and although 
it was able to pick up and include Middle Aurignacian implements on 
its way, it did not exercise sufficient influence to prevent Late Aurignacian 
and Magdalenian Man from living at no great distance from its front, 
as, for example, in East Anglia, and beyond the York Moraine in the 
Cresswell Caves. In the west of England and in Wales the Lake District 
and Scottish ice, having again filled the Irish Sea, invaded the marginal 
portions of the Cheshire Plain and North Wales. Aurignacian Man was 
driven from the country and the remains of his activities were sealed 
up in the North Welsh caves. We have considerable evidence of the 
retreat-stages of this Fourth Glacial Episode, and are at present led to 
believe that no subsequent glaciation of equal importance followed. 
While it may be true that the re-advance of the Scottish ice into the 
Lake District area marks a fifth glaciation, in the east and south of England 
Man appears to have survived free from climatic interruptions on a 
land-surface not very different topographically from that of to-day. 

The passing of the Ice Age was marked by a slow but steady sub- 
sidence of the land-area of southern and eastern England, which com- 
menced apparently after Late Aurignacian times, and continued until 
after the Neolithic period. Thus were produced the submerged forests, 
the drowned river-valleys and the buried valleys which occur just below 
the present-day flood-plain deposits of the rivers. 

And so the final touches on our picture portray a land very similar to our 
country as seen by modern Man. Thenceforward its features become the 
study of the geographers, and its vicissitudes the concern of the historians. 
As geologists we piece together the earth's story, one of unending yet varied 
change, from the rocky remnants on which we live. But, as we receive 
our earth from the astronomers, a world chronologically remote in its 
early stages and void of life if not of form, so we must in our turn pass 
it on to the historians. For the close of Palaeolithic times marks the end 
of our course, and, like the runners of old, we hand on the torch of life. 


Portsmouth District. 



IJnd stage. Last Coombe rock. 

Sandy deposits, Aurignacian ? 



Land rising. 
1 5 -ft. I'errace-gravels. 
50-ft. Lower Coombe rock. 
Land rising. 




? 5th Glacial. 

? Interglacial or 
Interstadial .' 







;earth, with 

loo-ft. Lower Coombe rock 

50-ft. Gravels. 

15-ft. Littoral sands 

Land sinking. 






cession of 
and Mid- 

er Clay. 

\ lOO-ft. Terrace gravels. 
I 15-ft. Estuarine beds and Lower 
fluviatile gravels, Acheulian. 



















2nd Glacial. 

ist Interglacial 

1st Glacial. 

Beituh Asbooatkhj Report, 1931 — The Conucts of Geology. 
SuffeDtaxdNafolk. CamhidgiDatrict. 

Laia. mid Yorh. 

NanhnnbtTlmd and Durham. 

Arctic peats and plant bed«. 

I Scotdih Re-advance. 

1 {uautanton Brown Boulder Cky , 
with Jkliddle Avngnaaan im- 

Barnwell Station acetic beds. 

HiH-nashe, Aurigftadan W Solu- I3pper Bamn'ell Village bedj. 

Hill-sraahts, n(-cr-silu and brick- Upper evcrdy-hedded giavcb. Fluvio-glacul gravels. ? Ltiv-al- 

aiHa, Uppei MDusterian. loisian. 

' Heule (coast) Boulder Clay. : Tyne-gap ose-train. 
Liter retreat of Dales glacis- I Tweed, ChcviotandWcslemio 
tion. York Moraine. advance. 

Marine shingle: ? raised beach 
fands, laminalcd clays and Pbivsivnrth amis, cic. 
cstunrine warp. 

' Scottish Re-advnncc. 

Iriili Sea, CheiMre and N. IVa/u. Awm-Stour Drainage. 

Bride Moraine, lale of Man. 

Upper Boulder Cloy of Welsh 
Main L-jIlc District glaciation. Coast, sealing Mid-Aurign.v 

I Sands and gravels. 

Upper Bed Boulder Ctay, and Upper Purple Boulder Clay, Western ice-advance. 
Chalky-JurasaJc Boulder Clay Main Dales gladi " ..." - 

Early Scottish, joined by Lake j MainTcrraeeof RivcrScvem. No. 3 Tcrract. cold. 
Vale StainmoreandTyncgkiciation. I District, icC'Savancc. I I.ower Boulder Clay of Welsh 

Slainmore Coast and Shropshire, 

1:^11^ Thames Valley. 

Pariimwilh Diilrict. 

I Deep channel filled at base, cold. Leu Viillty. Ponders Rnd stage. Last Coonibe rock. 
1-lood-plain gravels. 

Sandy Jeposil.i, Aiingnaciai 

I Excavation of deep chantii:!. 
' Erosion, ^varp and hill-washes. 

Land rising. 
Eroaion, and deposition of i5-ft, Ternicc-gravcls. 
Coombe rock, Mousterian to 5i>-ft. Lower Coombe rock. 
Upper Mousterian. ' Land rising. 

Coombe rock, Moualtt 

loo-fl. Lower Coombf rocli. 

50-ft. Gtavets. 

15-fi. Littoral sands, Itloua- 

^ ? loietglacial or 

- I Interetadial ? 

Early Mousterian brickearth, 

I'pper .^cbeulian giaveb. 

River - gravels 
I.nduanh, cold and brick- 
Pot, earths with 
Bnckcartfa, Corbitula 

lemp. fluimnaJis. 

Lower evenly -bedded gravels, 

Lower Barnwell Village beds, 

Corbieulafluminalis, etc. iiar- 

riogtoD gravels. 

CV.^v-Juraaiic and Chalky-Neo- Chalky-Junnic Boulder Cby. 

utnUan Boulder Clay. 
i"_',ntorted Drift. 

Lower Red Boulder Cby. 

Lower Purple Boulder Clay. 
I Early Dales tnoximum. 

Scottish -Cheviot ice.sdvai 

i^Ucol sands and gnveU. 

Nortncfa Brideartfa. 

CrMQer FoieM-bed. 

Gravels and sands. 

^ Basement Clay. 

I Sewerby Beach and cliff. 

Terraces No. 3 aiid No, i 
Ciiibiai/a fliimiiialh. 

\ MorclonDriftandNo.sTen 

River-days and peat, with Mous- Upper Crayfotd bridcartli, 

terian, cold to temperaie. Lower Crayford brickiMrih, with 

I Early Mousterian. I 

' Lower gravels of Wolvcreoit ' Taplow {50-ft-) Tcnact 

Channel. Late Acheulian, 

Micoquian. | 

Upper Summcrloivn - Radley 100 -ft. Terrace, with Corbiaila 

Terrace, u-arm, Corbiaila ' fiuminolis, and Bucce^ion of 

fiuminalis. Clactonian, Early and Mid- , 

Lower Summerlown - Radley 1 Acheulian. 

Terrace, cold, 1 

loo-ft. Terrace giavels. 

ij-ft. Eatuarine beds and Loner 
fluvialile gravels, Acheulian. 

Wolvcrcolc Terrace. 

I ioo-i4oft. Terrace, withChellia] 
I liandborough Terrace. 

' Chalky-Jur 

■t Clay. 

I Plateau Graveb. 


m tluuglciiaD. in iiildltioa ti 






I FEEL greatly honoured by the position I occupy at this year's meeting 
of the British Association, and am truly grateful to the Council for 
having chosen me as President of Section D. As the type of work 
pursued by us at Tring is well known to the Council, I may assume 
that I am not expected to speak from this chair on the advances made 
in Zoology during recent years, of which many of you are much better 
qualified to give a survey than I, but to set before this meeting some 
biological problems as seen by a systematist who has devoted much the 
greater part of his life to the study of species and what some among you 
may be inclined to call ' that sort of thing.' Biology is such a vast and 
many-sided subject that there are naturally many directions of approach, 
and if one branch of research works in one direction and another branch 
from the opposite side, it has for the uninitiated often the appearance as 
if there were antagonism between such opposite lines of attack, while in 
reality all the different lines support each other in their quest after a 
solution of the secrets of Nature. Biologists are in the happy position 
that, whatever theories they may favour at one time or the other, they 
have nothing preconceived to defend at all costs ; for they all strive 
towards the same object : the advance of natural knowledge, wherever 
that may lead. 

The inquiry into the secrets of organic Nature may be divided into 
three categories of questions : (i) what organisms creative forces have 
produced on Earth ; (2) how they have produced them ; and (3) what is 
the nature of the creative forces. The animal world, which appears 
almost infinite in the number of different forms, their diversity of food, 
behaviour, fertility and details of their life-histories, presents a picture of 
life confusing in its endless variety. Yet there is orderliness underlying 
this seeming confusion, and it is the first task of the systematist to discover 
this orderliness and sort the multitude of organisms accordingly. It was 
at the time of Linnaeus a comparatively simple achievement for one man 
to have enumerated all the animals then known, his Systema Nattace of 
1758 containing altogether fewer than 4,300 species. That task is in 
our days a hundred times more difficult, not only on account of the vast 
number of species which have poured into collections, are still pouring in 
and will continue to do so for a long time, but especially because research 


in systematics requires a much deeper knowledge of the morphology 
and bionomics of the animals classified. At the time of Linnaeus and 
after, when systematics were in their infancy, individual specimens 
showing marked differences were as a rule diagnosed as representing 
distinct species, the unit called species being looked upon as essentially 
a constant. This old view was at the time a new view. With the gradual 
discovery of the great range of variability exhibited by many organisms, 
the attitude of the systematist has changed. If formerly distinct-looking 
specimens found in the same locality had to be proved to belong to the 
same species before they were accepted as specifically the same, the modern 
systematist approaches the question from the opposite direction, regarding 
morphologically similar specimens, whatever their outward appearance 
may be, as specifically alike until their specific distinctness is established 
by convincing evidence. This attitude renders research in systematics 
far more subtle and difficult than it used to be and the results far more 
reliable. Experience has furnished a guiding principle in the facts that 
similarity does not necessarily mean relationship of the forms under 
observation, that dissimilarity is not necessarily evidence of specific 
distinctness, and that variability obtains in every species and every organ ; 
and if these facts are kept in mind by the systematist, the reproach of 
superficiality often justly levelled at work in taxonomy can be borne with 
equanimity. Variability is an essential character of everything alive. 
The concept of the constant species of former days is replaced by the 
concept of the flexible species, and the saying that like breeds like requires 
modifying into the statement that a population breeds a population with 
the same extent of variability. If like breeds like were being taken 
literally, we should have to alter it into like breeds unlike. For, strictly 
speaking, individuals are never alike whatever their relationship to each 
other. A calculation, for instance, of the number of specimens required 
of the commonest British mouse-flea {Ctenophthalmus agyrtes) in order to 
find among them two absolutely alike in the number and position of the 
bristles on the body arrives at the amusing figure of many million billions, 
a figure certainly in excess of that of the whole flea-population of Great 
Britain, and tantamount to proving that there are no two specimens alike. 
In spite of all this variability the apparently chaotic mass of organisms is 
cut up by specific barriers into units represented by populations of 
numerous individuals, each population living its own life alongside other 
populations, as anybody can ascertain in his own garden or as a matter 
of fact in his own flat, particularly if there are a cat and a dog about. 

In studying the characteristics of each specific unit and drawing up 
diagnoses for purposes of recognition, the systematist renders service in 
two quite different spheres of work and thought. Being alone able to 
identify the species in the difficult group in which he specialises, he assists 
defensive biology in its task to safeguard humanity against the ravages of 
health- or food-destroying organisms. Applied biology can only be a 
science if based on sound systematics. You will forgive me, I hope, if 
I refer, as a case in point, to an instance in the work of my late brother ; 
it is a story well known to all who are interested in tropical diseases and 
perhaps a little worn by now, but will always remain a very instructive 


illustration. When the Commission investigating bubonic plague in 
India had become definitely convinced that the plague was a rat disease 
transmitted to human beings through the agency of a particular species 
of rat-flea, no satisfactory explanation could be found why in Colombo 
and the city of Madras an outbreak of plague did not last long, although 
rats and rat-fleas abounded. The puzzle was solved when Dr. Hirst 
took the matter up and sent to my brother the flea material collected in 
the towns mentioned during a period when there was no plague and again 
when an outbreak occurred. The examination of the material proved 
that the flea ordinarily infesting rats at Colombo and at Madras was not 
(as the Commission had assumed) the plague-flea Xenopsylla cheopis, 
but X. asfia, a very similar, but different species, which, by experiments, 
Dr. Hirst proved to be an inefficient carrier of the disease. Outbreaks 
of plague occurred in those cities only when grain infested with the plague- 
carrying A', cheopis was brought from the Punjab. For some reason or 
other the environment at Colombo and Madras does not suit A', cheopis ; 
it dies out, and consequently the plague disappears. When during the 
campaign in Mesopotamia camps became infested with rats, the British 
Museum could give the reassuring answer to an inquiry that there was no 
danger of a serious outbreak of plague, because the rat-fleas collected were 
X. astia, none belonging to X. cheopis. This close connection between 
applied biology and systematics is well understood by the scientists who 
are at the head of applied biology, but as yet not by every young scientist 
full of ardour and pride of knowledge, inclined to rely on his own identi- 
fications and therefore apt to go astray. The help which the systematist 
can extend to applied biology, however, is for him only a side-issue or a 
by-product ; he is a student of pure science, devoting his time to the 
discovery of new species, of new connections between them and of new 
facts bearing on the relation between the species and its surroundings, 
the driving force in this pursuit of knowledge being the irresistible 
attraction which the subject has for him. 

The describing of new species and finding the right place for them in a 
given scheme of classification and the identifying of species may seem 
work of an elementary kind, necessary and useful, but nevertheless rather 
superficial. If systematics ended there, they might satisfy the collector 
perhaps, but hardly the scientific mind. But this preliminary work is 
only a part of systematics, differing from the deeper study of the species 
as the cataloguing of literature does from the critical study of the contents 
of literature. A natural classification is based on blood-relationship, 
and therefore entails an inquiry into the evolution of the species classified. 
Systematics change from a static study of form into a dynamic study of 
evolution. For that purpose it is not sufficient to know some character- 
istic by which species A can be distinguished from species B, or which 
places A and B into the same genus or into different genera. A species 
is like a book, which must be read critically and in its entirety. Unfortu- 
nately the systematist is much handicapped, as in the case of mammals, 
birds, insects and some other classes he has to be content with the portions 
of the animal which it is customary to preserve in collections. But even 
so, the contemplation of the skins and skulls of mammals, of the skins of 


birds, and of the dried insects reveal to him the latitude and the kind of 
variability and variation in the species of which he has adequate material, 
and enables him to compare results with the biologists who have studied 
the flexibility of species with the view to ascertain whether the variability 
is purely fortuitous or whether there is system in the apparent confusion, 
many so-called laws of development having been discovered in the course 
of such inquiries. Now, according to the experience of the systematist, 
such laws are rules with exceptions, sometimes the normal and the 
exceptional balancing each other, and it may be stated in general that 
the opposite must always be expected to occur. That is somewhat dis- 
tressing, but very true to living nature, where there is little need for logic 
and where the mathematical constant expressed by ' one equals one ' does 
not hold good, as any farmer can tell you. Exceptions have a certain 
fascination, not only for the writers of novels and plays, which are mostly 
based on exceptional characters or exceptional situations, but also for the 
biologist. As exceptions are comparatively rare, it requires large collec- 
tions or long observation to discover them, and if there is no known excep- 
tion to a certain rule of development, one has the feeling that it will some 
day be discovered. Take as an instance the bright colouring found among 
birds and butterflies. In sexually dimorphic species the male is the 
brighter coloured as a rule, but there are also butterflies and moths in 
which the female bears the gayer garb, this being particularly often the 
case in mimetic species, where conspicuousness plays an important role, 
such as Archonias hellona ^ and Hibrildis tiorax} An interesting case of 
exceptional difference in colour and behaviour among birds and another 
among moths may be mentioned in this connection. In the swift moth 
of our meadows the white (^ dances up and down a foot or two above the 
ground, keeping to the same spot and being in the twilight a very con- 
spicuous object. The dark-coloured fernale, barely visible as it slowly 
booms along in search of a mate, does not take the first male it encounters, 
but makes a selection, there being evidently a difference in the males not 
noticeable to our dull senses, probably a difference in scent, the ^(^ 
having the hindleg converted into a scent-organ. That the male makes 
itself conspicuous agrees well with the general behaviour of that sex in 
animals, but that the female takes the initiative is an exception. A 
parallel instance occurs among Gallinaceous birds ; among these game- 
birds are found the most striking instances of sexual dimorphism, the 
cocks exhibiting an often marvellous display of colours, as in the Peacock, 
Pheasants, Fowls and others, the females being comparatively incon- 
spicuous. It is therefore somewhat startling to find just in this order 
a genus in which the colours and behaviour of the sexes are reversed. 
In most species of the Oriental genus Turnix, a kind of Quail, the females 
are larger than the males, bear a much brighter plumage, utter the call- 
note, fight each other for the possession of a male, and leave it to the male 
to incubate the eggs and to take care of the young— a state of civilisation 
of which we notice the beginnings in the human race. It is rather odd 
that in this instance the weaker sex, the male, attends to the young. For 

1 ^ Cramer, Pap. Ex. I., tab. 13 (1775) ; f. id., I.e. ii, tab. 177 (1779). 
^ Cf. Poulton, Trans. Ent. Soc, 1928, p. 380. 


it would surely be safer for the chickens if the stronger parent took 
charge of them, for the sake of defence ; but perhaps the heavy hand, or 
in this case, the strong beak, is, in the bringing up of the young, not 
always superior to gentler means of persuasion. In the Struthiiformes 
we find likewise that the male attends to incubation and to the nursery, 
with the exception of the African Ostrich, where both sexes incubate 
alternately, as is the rule in birds. As an example of birds of which only 
the female incubates we mention the Hornbills, the male ensuring the 
continuity of incubation by so blocking up the entrance to the hole con- 
taining the female on the nest that the female cannot get out. During the 
whole period of incubation and until the young birds are fully fledged the 
male feeds the female and young through the minute hole in the plastered- 
up nest opening. Of the two classes of animals which I have studied 
more particularly, birds and Lepidoptera, the coloration is on the whole 
more constant in birds within the species at the same locality, apart from 
differences of sex and age, than in butterflies and moths, and individual 
di- and polymorphism is decidedly more common in the insects than in 
birds, but it is by no means absent among the latter. Dark and light 
phases long known to occur regularly among certain raptorial birds — • 
for instance, harriers — have during recent years been discovered to exist 
also here and there in other groups of birds, where they have formerly 
generally been described as distinct species. Such a correction had also 
to be made in the systematics of the American genus RJtamphocoelus, 
where red and yellow forms differing only in colour are now regarded as 
being individuals of one species, intermediate examples of an orange colour 
also being known, as well as very exceptional examples, such as the aberra- 
tion Rhamphocaelus dunstalU Rothsch., in which the red and yellow colours 
extend to parts of the body other than those normally so coloured. The 
gaily-coloured parrots furnish other examples of dichromotism ; for 
instance, the parakeet Eos fuscata Blyth, which is a fairly common bird 
in New Guinea, appears in a red and a yellow form in the same place, 
both forms being about equally frequent, the red one slightly prepon- 
derating, and the lory Charmosyna stellee Meyer, which appears in a black 
as well as a red form. This replacement of red by yellow recalls numerous 
Lepidoptera in which a similar change of colour takes place. Sometimes 
this change is sex-linked, the male being red and the female yellow, or 
the male yellow and the female red, the one happening about as often as 
the other ; the same is true of the change from orange to yellow, and from 
yellow to white. Pierine butterflies of the genera Teracolus, Pereute, 
Anthocharis may be mentioned. Occasionally species are found which, 
independently of sex, regularly occur in red and in yellow individuals, 
or in yellow and white ones, red specimens being on the whole more 
frequent than yellow ones, or yellow specimens than white ones — as, for 
instance, in Papilio deiphobus L. and P. deiphontes Feld., from the Moluccas, 
and the Agaristids ^ Xanthosptlopteryx karschi, X. africana and Rothia 
eriopis, from Africa. The colour scale red, orange, yellow, white agreeing 
with the sequence in the ontogenetical development of the colours in the 
wing of the Lepidopteron, an acceleration of the physico-chemical process 
3 Cf. Seitz, Macrolep.. vol. xv, p. 38 ff. (1913)- 


in consequence of some stimulating factor, would account for the later 
step in the colour scale being so often obtained. This phenomenon is 
so frequently observed that one expects every red-coloured species at 
least occasionally to produce yellow specimens. According to the 
combined experiences of many observers, there is undoubtedly this 
tendency of a development from red in the direction to white, and if we 
find that in one species the male is orange and the female yellow (or 
white) (as, for instance, in some Colias and Soritia), there is reason for 
considering the female the more advanced sex, and vice versa. Now there 
is a curious discrepancy in the frequency of occurrence between red and 
yellow (or orange, yellow and white) in species where only occasional speci- 
mens bear the different colour , being so-called aberrations among a normally 
coloured population. To ascertain the frequency of a comparatively rare 
occurrence of this kind requires large collections brought together over a 
long period. Collectors, as a rule, are very keen on such aberrant speci- 
mens, and what we see therefore in collections is a disproportionately 
large number of aberrants among the normals. There is a collection of 
Lepidoptera at Cologne (Dr. Philipps), consisting almost entirely of 
aberrants ; a madhouse the late Prof. Study, of Bonn, called the collection. 
The discrepancy alluded to is this : whereas the number of yellow 
aberrants among red normals (and white among yellow) is large, the 
change in the opposite direction from white to yellow and from yellow 
to red is excessively rare. I have in my collection only two instances of 
such inverse aberrants : an orange male of the yellow {^) and white (?) 
Dercas verhuelli Hoev. from China, and an Indian specimen and a Javan 
one of Troides helena L., with the abdomen and hindwings partly reddish 
instead of yellow. If the yellow aberrants of red species are due to 
accelerated development in the chrysalis, the red or orange aberrants of 
yellow species must be considered the result of retarded development. 
But why this enormous difference in frequency ? As a systematist I 
can only present the riddle and must leave it to the experimentalist to 
find the solution of this contradiction. 

Besides colour and pattern, the size and shape of the specimens and 
their appendages and the structure of the secondary sexual characteristics of 
many kinds are found to be of great help in species classification, but 
experience has shown that none can be relied on unreservedly any more 
than colour or pattern. The comparison of the frequently exaggerated 
distinctions of the males, such as the horns of stags and beetles, the long 
forelegs of beetles, the stalked eyes of certain flies, etc., has led to the 
discovery that the size of these organs is not always proportionate to the 
size of the body, but that the ratio in the development of such appendages 
increases disproportionately with the size of the specimens ; in a small 
male of a species of Longicorn beetle the antenna may be a little longer 
than the body, while in a large specimen of the same species it may be 
several times longer than the body. Collections bear out this law of 
growth almost completely, but only almost. The Stag-beetles are one of 
the families that have early drawn attention to the remarkable develop- 
ment of their mandibles, which are sometimes so large, and the point 
of gravity therefore placed so far forward that the specimen has to assume 


a semi-erect position in order to keep its balance. As far back as 1885 
Leuthner * showed that in the genus Odontolabis the size of the mandibles 
of the males increased with the size of the body, but that there was never- 
theless a certain amount of dimorphism, some large males having short 
mandibles, in one species the largest measured male having shorter 
mandibles than a smaller male. Similarly, it has recently been shown by 
Arrow ^ that in Onthophagus, a genus of Dung-beetles, the horns of the males 
conform in general with the above law, but that in one instance there are 
long-horned males and short-horned ones of the same body-size. Such 
exceptions from general rules are of great interest, and it is therefore 
the duty of the systematist who comes across an exception — generally 
accidentally — fully to record it. Does it not seem evident from the cases 
mentioned that Nature can break a rule of development, just as Nature 
has created species and destroyed them ? After all, the law is only our 
deduction based on the organisms we find provided by working methods 
of Nature we endeavour to discover. Circumstances may arise which 
interfere with the usual ' routine ' of growth. In Papilio meninon L., for 
example, one of the many Swallowtail butterflies with a polymorphic 
female, one of the female forms has a spatulated tail and therefore a larger 
wing-surface than the other females, but its body is not larger than in 
the specimens which have no appendage. The species is derived from 
an ancestor in which all specimens had tails. The direction of develop- 
ment in this and other species is towards taillessness ; but mimetism 
stepped in and preserved the tail by modifying the course of evolution. 
The rule of growth illustrated by the Stag-beetles, and corroborated by 
breeding of plants and animals, leaves no doubt that the characteristics in 
size and weight of an individual are not inherited and therefore are of no 
importance in the evolution of species. The test can be made in collections 
by comparing the closely related species of a genus with each other. In 
Xenocerus, for instance, a genus of Anthribid beetles, of which we happen 
to have the largest collection at Tring, the largest specimen [1^) of the 
largest species has the antenna two and a half times as long as the body, 
while in several smaller species the antenna is five times as long as the body 
in the largest male. If the proportional size of body and antenna were 
constitutional, the largest species in a group of nearly related species 
should always have the longest antenna, which is not the case. An 
interesting contradiction of another type in the evolution of allied species 
has lately come to our knowledge while I was arranging the American 
Syntotnidee and Arctiidce, families which are among my favourite groups 
of Lepidoptera. The families are separated in Hampson's classification 
by vein 8 of the hindwing being present in the Arctiidce and absent in the 
Syntomidee. Variation in the state of development of this vein, therefore, 
is of some importance in the systematics of these families. Now, in the 
genus Neidalia one species in my collection has vein 8 represented by 
a distinct spur in the ^, whereas in the $ it is a fully developed vein ; 
in a second species the vein has disappeared in the ^, but remains un- 
reduced in the ^. That is to say, in the evolution of the neuration of the 

* Trans. Zool. Soc. Lond., vol. xi, p. 385 (1885). 
' Trans. Ent. Soc. Lond., 1928, p. 76. 


hindwing from the Arctiid type with 8 fully developed to the Syntomid 
type with 8 suppressed, the (J Neidalia is in advance of the $. In a second 
genus, Aclytia, on the other hand, 8 is present in the (J of some species, 
absent in the ^ of others, with intergradations, and absent in the $ of 
all species. In this case, therefore, the process of reduction is farther 
advanced in the $ than in the $, just the opposite of what obtains in 
Neidalia. The morphology of Aclytia, however, offers an explanation 
of the contrast. The SS o^ this genus have the costal margin of the 
hindwing enlarged in conformity with the development of a scent- 
organ, and vein 8 acts as a support of the lobe. Though the vein is absent 
from the imago of the Syntomids and ought to be absent from Aclytia, 
which belongs to the Syntomids, it has reappeared in the cj, being pre- 
sumably in a recessive or dormant state in the larva and chrysalis, capable 
of resurrection in the imago if the necessary stimulus arises, which in this 
case would be the development of a scent-organ. This explanation is 
perhaps not palatable to those who believe that lost organs are lost for 
ever ; much depends on what is meant by the word ' lost.' Vein 8 of the 
Syntomids is probably not really ' lost ' in the individual, but merely 
suppressed in the imago. 

It must be clearly understood that in speaking of the unimportance for 
evolution of the bulk of individuals and the size of certain appendages, 
we referred to specimens of the same country — i.e. individuals belonging 
to the same interbreeding population. In comparing the populations of 
two different countries the question assumes quite another aspect. In 
the systematics of birds the study of subspecies or geographical races has 
developed into a fine art. Size and shades of colour furnish the main 
distinctions between subspecies, and here we observe this important 
contrast that, while the difference of, say, 6 mm. in the wing-lengths of 
specimens from the same country is of no importance, because not 
inheritable, the difference of 2 mm. between the populations of two 
countries is an inheritable quantity and therefore qualifies the two popu- 
lations as being subspecifically distinct from one another. The evolution 
of the subspecific size-difference evidently starts with a shifting of the 
average size. A series of English sparrows has not the same average 
wing-length as a series from Central Germany (large numbers have actually 
been measured by Dr. Kleinschmidt) ; in other birds there is only a more 
or less moderate overlapping in size, and in others again the averages are 
so far apart that there is a gap between the largest bird from one country 
and the smallest from another country. The size of birds is remarkably 
constant as compared with that of Lepidoptera. In these insects size 
depends to a great extent on a variable outside factor, the supply of luscious 
food for the caterpillar. In the dry season of the tropics and in the late 
summer and autumn of the temperate regions food is hard and the resulting 
butterflies, therefore, as a rule smaller than those resulting from cater- 
pillars which have fed up in the wet season or in spring and early summer 
when food was plentiful and soft. Size, therefore, is as a rule of no great 
weight in the diagnoses of subspecies of butterflies ; but there are such 
which are definitely smaller or larger than others — a case in point being the 
races discovered by Wallace on Celebes and characterised by large size 


and falcate forewings. If there is no corroborative evidence in the 
specimens themselves, the subspecies based on slight differences in the 
shade of colour or in the size, and especially the subspecies which overlap 
each other in size and colouring, urgently require testing by controlled 
breeding experiments. That such differences are inheritable has to be 
proved ; the systematist assumes they are, but he may be wrong. The 
differences between geographical races, however, are frequently very 

In our researches on the Swallowtail butterflies we came across a 
combination of distinctions which is most instructive in an inquiry how the 
subspecies have come into existence. In a large number of species of 
butterflies and moths the geographical forms are separated by differences 
in the structure of the organs of reproduction and in colour and pattern , 
The important point is this, that the two sets of differences vary in- 
dependently of each other within each subspecies. In Papilio euchenor,^ 
for instance, the yellow markings of the forewing are less extended, and 
the hook on the inside of the clasper is less curved in the New Guinea 
subspecies than in the one from the Bismarck Islands. If a New Guinean 
specimen somewhat approaches the Bismarckian race in colour it does not 
show an approach in the shape of the hook of the clasper, and vice versa. 
The chance that a specimen of one race approaches the other both in 
colour and structure is very remote — we have never come across one — ■ 
and the identical combinations colour plus structure of the Bismarckian 
race cannot be expected ever to occur among the New Guinean popu- 
lation. Therefore the Bismarckian subspecies cannot have come into 
existence by arrivals from Guinea, having already possessed the charac- 
teristics which distinguish the race of the Bismarck Islands ; con- 
sequently these special distinctions must have been acquired after the 
islands had become populated from New Guinea, no matter whether 
the immigrants were average or not. The individual characters of the 
ancestral specimens do not influence the formation of the new race, only 
what is inheritable is of importance, and what is non-pathological and 
therefore adaptable to new and possibly less congenial surroundings. 
It is perhaps necessary to emphasise that the breaking-up of a species 
into geographical races (subspecies), often into a large number, is not 
exceptional, but is the rule with all species with wider distribution, and 
that the above combination of structure and colour has been tested in 
many species. A chain of races each confined to its district is a beautiful 
illustration of the workings of evolution. The differences evolved 
during isolation depend on the constitution of the animal and the nature 
of the environment, and the change may be visible only in externals, 
or may affect also internal organs. In mammals the subspecific characters 
relate generally to the skull and the colour, texture and proportions of the 
skin ; in birds to wing-length, proportions of the bill and to colour ; in 
insects, where the whole skeleton and the soft parts, at least in a dried-up 
state, are preserved, distinctions may be found in any part of the body, 
but, apart from colour and pattern, are often most pronounced in secondary 

* Cf. Roths., Nov. Zool., vol. ii, p. 339 (1895) ; Jord., I.e., vol. iii, p. 469 


sexual organs — certain subspecies of Ectoparasites ' are even mainly based 
on differences in the ducts of the sexual organs and their accessory glands. 
Systematics and morphology are different expressions for the same kind 
of research, and I have no doubt that experimental biology will likewise 
have such a deepening influence on systematics that the superficial gap 
existing between the two lines of research will disappear too. Knowledge 
begins with the observation of phenomena, not with the experiment. 
The areas inhabited by the geographical forms of the species we have 
studied are either strictly separated, as in the case of island forms, or they 
are contiguous, there being between the areas no gap uninhabitable for 
the species, such as water would be for a dryland species, or a desert 
or savannah for a woodland species ; or the areas may overlap. What 
happens when the areas touch or overlap and the geographical forms 
come in contact with one another ? In a critical survey of the birds of 
Kenya Colony, lately published by Dr. van Someren in the Tring Museum 
periodical,® every now and again the author records the observation that 
perfectly distinguishable subspecies intergrade in the intermediate district, 
where the two evidently have interbred and produced an impure popu- 
lation, not strictly distinguishable from, nor identical with, either present 
subspecies. The phenomenon occurs very frequently, as must be ex- 
pected ; for the breaking-up of a species into geographical units cannot 
at once result in sexual aloofness. This, however, is a point which should 
be further investigated. Standfuss ^ mentions, for instance, that, accord- 
ing to his experience, specimens from different districts do not mate so 
easily when brought together as do specimens from the same district. It is 
therefore quite possible that geographically separate populations which 
the systematist considers identical, because he does not find any morpho- 
logical differences, may nevertheless have acquired a physiological differ- 
ence, the rudiments of a physiological barrier, which the experiment only 
could detect. Though hybrid populations are of common occurrence, 
they have not been thoroughly tested with some exceptions. Prof. W. F. 
Balfour-Browne made the interesting discovery among the water-beetles 
of Great Britain — ^and Mr. J. O. Cooper has corroborated the discovery 
in other species — that there is a certain species in the south of Great 
Britain and another in the north, clearly differentiated, while in the inter- 
mediate area both are found with all intergradations. The species-pairs, 
as Prof. Balfour-Browne calls them, are of great significance. The 
systematist does not know what to do with them ; he generally treats the 
hybrid population as an intermediate race and gives it a name or leaves 
it without one of its own ; the insect catalogues abound with the name 
' intermedia.' I need hardly point out that the frequency of the occurrence 
of mixed blood is a snare for the geneticist who bases his conclusions on 
the assumption that the original specimens for his series of experiments 
were pure, while his experimental results may in reality be due to 
the hybrid nature of the parent stock. Intermediate races fluctuating 
in character are often indefinable morphologically, but are definable 

' Cf. Jordan, Trans. Fourth Intern. Congr. Entom., p. 498 (1929). 
^ Nov. Zool., vol. xxxvii, p. 292 (1932). 
* Handbuch, p. 107 (1896). 


ecologically — i.e. by the kind of country inhabited : desert, savannah, 
forest. In fact, the peculiarities of a race are best understood if it is 
considered as part of the environment. 

Not all geographical races amalgamate when they come together. 
Many of them have become so different that they can live side by side, 
each being an independent community not interbreeding with the other. 
As instructive examples I will mention some Swallowtail butterflies : 
Papilio thoas L. occurs, split up into many races, in South and Central 
America, its range reaching into U.S.A. A very closely related species, and 
evidently originally its northern race, P. cresphontes Cram, flies in U.S.A. 
and extends far south into Central America, the two common insects keeping 
perfectly distinct in all characteristics, no hybrids being known. In the 
Oriental region Papilio eurypylus L. ranges in various subspecies from the 
Bismarck Islands westward to India, and P. doson Feld., which we only 
recognised as a separate sister-species after a more careful study of the male 
genital organs, occurs from Ceylon and South India eastwards to the 
Philippines and the Lesser Sunda Islands. The two species, therefore, 
are found together over a large area, but the most western districts are 
inhabited only by P. doson and the most eastern by P. etirypylus ; originally 
they were the Western and the Eastern forms of one species. It is evident 
that these butterflies represent a further step in the evolution of species 
than the species-pairs which still amalgamate in the area common to them. 

Sometimes we find both amalgamation and specific distinctness among 
the forms divided from a parent stock, as is the case in the sister-species 
Cat-flea and Dog-flea. The home of the genus Ctenocephalides to which 
both belong is Africa. Tropical and South Africa are inhabited by a 
subspecies with short head, and the Nile countries by one with a long 
head, the two intergrading in the Sudan and Uganda. From India to 
the Papuan countries, with the exclusion of Australia, a third race occurs, 
and in Europe and Central and North Asia the cat-fleas were represented 
by the flea occurring on dogs and wolves. When the Egyptian house- 
cat came to Europe, it brought with it the long-headed form of Ctenoce- 
phalides felis Bouche, which thereby came into contact with the Palsearctic 
shortheaded dog-flea. One might have expected that they would hybridise 
and amalgamate, but they did not. The morphological differences are 
but slight, but a physiological barrier had arisen which kept and keep the 
cat- and dog-fleas as species, although they may occur together on the 
same individual of the host. When my brother pointed out the specific 
distinctness of the two fleas, he encountered a good deal of criticism 
before his opinion was generally accepted as correct. 

Before leaving this subject I will mention a type of local form which 
stands apart from the usual kind of geographical race. In gregarious 
mammals, such as the African buffalo, one herd seems frequently to 
differ from another herd, and as herds keep to their particular district, 
the difference has all the appearance of being geographical and having 
originated in the same way as the geographical distinctness of which 
I have spoken. But we know that family likenesses are inheritable, and it 
appears to me that the herd distinctions are really family characteristics 
impressed on the herd by the dominant bull. The point requires further 


investigation by the systematist, as the result may be quite interesting 
and perhaps important for our understanding of locaUsed differences 
encountered among other animals. 

Systematics, however, are not concerned with the study of species and 
their variations only. The species have to be grouped into genera and 
then into higher categories, all according to relationship — i.e. according to 
descent. As in the study of subspecies the systematist must enter upon 
geography, so in the search for the past connections between genera and 
families his research becomes linked with the past history of the Earth 
and sometimes throws light on this history. If he can prove that two 
genera now widely separated geographically are really of common stock, 
then there must have been a means of communication in former times 
which is now absent. If I may draw again on my brother's studies for 
an illustration, we will take the distribution of the queerest-looking fleas 
as yet discovered, the Australian Stephanocircus and the American 
Craneopsylla, in which the anterior portion of the head is divided off as 
a laterally compressed helmet. They are closely related, and the group 
originated in South America, where occur several allied genera and a 
genus connecting the group with more normally built fleas. They are 
only found in the Andesian countries from Patagonia to Ecuador (possibly 
occurring farther north), and in a modified form as Stephanocircus in 
Australia, nowhere else. The assumption that there was at one time a 
bridge between South America and Australia is the only explanation 
at all satisfactory. This conclusion is supported by another genus (or 
group of genera), Parapsyllus, which is plentifully represented by species 
in the same Andesian countries (not in Eastern Brazil, the Amazons and 
Guianas), and recurs in one species on the islands in the South Polar Sea 
and in southern districts of Australia. The distribution of both genera 
evidently took place from West to East. To this example, affording 
positive evidence of a geographical bridge of some kind, may be given a 
comparison which is a negative witness. One of the most remarkable 
lacunae in the butterfly fauna of Africa south of the Sahara is the total 
absence of swallowtails which feed as larvae on Aristolochia. The species 
are numerous both in America, especially in the tropics, and in the 
Oriental region, but not a single one has reached Tropical and South 
Africa, though food plants occur, only one species of Ceylonese affinity 
being found on Madagascar. In face of this evidence it is impossible to 
believe that after the appearance on Earth of the butterflies there ever 
existed a bridge between Africa and South America. 

Although the systematist is primarily concerned with the organisms 
as produced by Nature, and not with the creative forces which have 
evolved them, his researches extend to so many different species that he 
is bound to collect evidence bearing on those forces and their working. 
There are, in fact, certain questions which can only be answered with the 
help of extensive systematic collections : Convergent development, for 
instance, which looms rather large in discussions on natural selection, 
particularly its frequency and its geographical occurrence. It is a fairly 
common phenomenon, which however I shall mention only in passing, 
for similarity in colour — such as shown in the mountains of New Guinea 

D.— ZOOLOGY loi 

by an unusually large percentage of butterflies which have the upper side 
white with a black border to the wings, as in Pieridce, even a number of 
Blues having acquired this colour — involves one unavoidably in arguments 
about mimicry, a subject outside this address and concerning which I 
will say no more than that there are numerous cases of convergence in 
appearance unexplainable to me if mimicry were not a reality. I will, 
however, refer to a few non-mimetic illustrations of convergent develop- 
ment in which the influence of locality is very apparent. In a number 
of Oriental Papilios, with a tail to the hindwing, this appendage becomes 
reduced as we proceed eastwards, and in some instances disappears 
altogether on the Papuan islands. New Guinea has produced very 
striking metallic coloration in two groups of animals, the Birds of 
Paradise and the Geometrid moths Milionia. A number of butterflies 
of the island of Celebes are large and have the forewings strongly curved. 
The home of long-tailed Geometrid moths is South America, where also 
occur long-tailed Riodinid butterflies similar in habits and sometimes in 
appearance to these Geometrids. We do not always have a satisfactory 
explanation of such convergences ; but the darker coloration of certain 
West African butterflies as compared with their East African representa- 
tives, and of some Sumatran forms as compared with those from Java, is 
probably explained by the damper climate favouring the production of 
black-brown. The wings in a number of migratory birds are shorter in 
several Algerian subspecies than in the European ones — ^for instance, in 
the House-Martin, the Hawfinch, Goatsucker, and others, possibly due 
to these subspecies having to fly a shorter distance to their winter quarters 
than the northern birds, and therefore short-winged individuals having 
a better chance of surviving than in the case of northern migrants. 

Another point of significance revealed by collections is the frequency 
of monomorphism in the outlying districts of polymorphic species. 
Papilio cegeiis Don., for example, is polymorphic in New Guinea, appearing 
in two forms of the ^ and several female-forms ; the various subspecies 
flying in Australia and on the Moluccas have only one kind of female. 
The polymorphic Papilio memnon L. has a monomorphic female in its 
most northern area, Japan. The African Papilio dardanus Brown is 
monomorphic in Madagascar and the Comoro Islands (the female being 
but slightly different from the male), whereas on the African Continent 
the species is not only strongly sexually dimorphic, but moreover 
polymorphic in the female. 

The simplification from the centre of distribution outwards, indicated 
by the examples mentioned, obtains also in some insects where the sexes 
of the species remain monomorphic in the whole area. According to the 
researches of Onslow,^" the conspicuously different geographical forms of 
Papilio priamus L., the orange one inhabiting the Northern Moluccas, 
the blue one found in New Ireland and the Solomon Islands, and the green 
forms occurring in the interjacent countries, differ from each other (in 
the tint of colour) in that the orange form has an orange pigment in the 
scales, the blue form no pigment, but a structural blue, and the green 
forms a combination of the yellow pigment with the structural blue. 
'" Philos. Trans. Roy. Soc, B 211, p. 39 (1923). 


Although the green forms combine the colours of the other two, they are 
not hybrid products, but the original stock from which the blue and the 
orange forms have descended, the blue form having originated by the loss 
of the yellow pigment, and the orange one by the loss of the blue structural 
colour. A gradation of the loss of the yellow pigment is observed in the 
three subspecies from the Bismarck Islands : the green bornevianni 
Pagenst., from New Britain, with the metallic green scaling similar in 
distribution to the scaling of the blue New Ireland specimens, a second 
subspecies, miokensis Ribbe, from Miotio, intermediate in geographical 
position and in the blue-green colour, and the deep blue urvilleanus 
Guer., from New Ireland, New Hanover and the Solomon Islands 
(which has occasionally one or two golden dots on the hindwing). This 
case of great outward contrasts with so simple an explanation of them is 
probably unique. ^^ 

In the vast majority of species the geographical differences are quan- 
titatively small and frequently so concealed (or even inside the body) as to 
exclude the idea that a process of selection through enemies takes place 
in such cases. This elimination of one factor in their evolution, however, 
does not answer the question how these small differences have arisen and 
become hereditary. A new subspecies being the old plus the surviving 
and accumulating effect of mass and energy of the environment, perhaps 
observations of another kind give a hint. In an instance here and there 
it has been found that the larvas of a Lepidopteron, usually monophagous 
on a definite plant, through force of circumstances or accidentally feed 
upon another species of plant, and that then the offspring of this brood 
will rather die than take to the normal food-plant of the grandparents. 
Does it not look as if here a habit had become fixed in one generation .'' 
Now, if we look upon the component parts of an insect specimen as if 
each part were an individual and apply the above observation, it is quite 
conceivable that in a new environment one or the other factor affecting 
the development of the growing body will stimulate this or that individual 
organ, or group of cells, or retard its development, and when an accelera- 
tion or a retardation has taken place in one generation, a predisposition, 
a habit, is acquired by that organ which will persist, like the habit of 
eating the strange plant. The crested lark, which is common on the south 
shores of the Channel, but never crosses the twenty odd miles of water, 
except by accident (about half-a-dozen specimens being known from 
England), teaches us that habit is a pertinaceous factor in life. 

From the remarks to which you have so patiently listened it must have 
become clear what my attitude is towards the staff to whom the study of 
systematics is to be entrusted in public institutes. If I could carry out 
an ideal, I should leave the preliminary work only to less thoroughly 
trained members of the staff and continue to appoint for research work 
the best brains to be got, trained at the University in scientific thinking, 
who do not merely float, but can dive. 

'^ Incidentally it may be mentioned that green specimens of P. priamns which 
have suffered from damp assume a bluish tone in consequence of the deterioration 
of the yellow pigment. 






I. Introduction. 

It has been assumed in many discussions that mass-production and com- 
merce on a large scale represent a new mode of life, a form of society, that 
is conquering the world and must disintegrate older modes of social life 
and organisation. However true this is, there are limitations obvious now 
that production far beyond immediate selling possibilities is causing so 
much difficulty. It is truer to say that various types of society, the world 
over, are trying to graft on to their ancient heritage this new scheme of 
mass-production. In vastly increased numbers the peoples of the world, 
some more, some less, touched by the idea of mass-production, are jostling 
one another as never before, and various types of society have become, 
willy nilly, standing dangers to others. 

Whether Adam Smith really willed it or not, his plea for specialisation 
between individual and between parts of a nation became a plea for 
specialisation of nations, and the laisser-fairt' doctrine which followed it 
was an idea that all would be for the best if economic rivalry were un- 
bridled, and the best were allowed to win freely. One might caricature 
this, a little unfairly no doubt, by saying that unlimited commercial war- 
fare was to be the way of progress, peace and plenty. A few thinkers were 
not so sure of this ; Disraeli saw its dangers, and, on the other side of our 
politics, Leonard Courtney, back in the seventies of last century, expressed 
alarm at the growth of British industry and population, which he saw would 
call up rivalries leading to war ; and at the end of such a war there would 
be a breakdown of the network of credit and millions would be unem- 
ployed. His foresight has been all too fully justified. It may have been 
useful, up to a point, to think out the increase of production through 
specialisation as Adam Smith does in his famous argument about pins, but 
there was need for far more thought than seems to have been given to the 
maintenance and development of social life in the various environments 
nature provides and man adjusts. Study of that kind has lagged behind 
for many reasons. There were those — and they had immense power in 
the days when British industry was spreading — who, on religious grounds, 
held that one had but to propagate the faith western Europe had assimi- 
lated and all would be well ; for them there was one type of ideal society 


for all. The development of science and the multiplication of contacts 
have made thought more complex. Social forms result from interaction 
between men and their environments, and the lessons learned and the 
ideas selected and developed in different cases have been very different. 
This is a legitimate and important sphere of work for the student of 
geography. In each case, the people and their form of society are so much 
a part each of the other that, whatever changes mass-production may 
bring, they want to, they must in fact, keep a large measure of continuity 
from their past. They have nearly all once been, in the main, self- 
contained groups, or, at least, external commerce has been subordinate to 
internal exchange. Socially and economically the village group was in 
large measure an autarchy, whatever political organisations might come 
and go above its head. One recalls the well-known answer of a Polish 
villager that his lord was a Pole but he was a peasant. The idea of the 
self-contained unit is thus very deep-rooted. With great effort, using the 
opportunities of cheaper printing in the nineteenth century, the village 
has come to feel itself part of the nation, which has clamoured for opportu- 
nities of self-expression. Many a nation naturally, therefore, seeks to be 
self-contained, all the more if it feels that specialisation and consequent 
dependence on imports is going to give it an inferior position. We may 
declaim against the follies of economic nationalism ; we must, however, 
go beyond criticism into sympathetic examination of the people in their 
geographical environment with their need of ' a place in the sun ' and 
their claim upon the world's help, if we are to become constructive 

The old self-contained national group might have a centralised adminis- 
tration efficiently organised for defence ; but it was usually an agricultural 
group and, in the nineteenth century, found itself at a disadvantage in 
comparison with a group of industrial producers in commercial organisa- 
tion. In the first burst of mass-production the future for manufacturer 
and merchant seemed boundless. The exchanges that developed, unless 
there were some restriction, tended at first to make profits and credits 
accumulate among the industrialists rather than among the agriculturists. 
These credits might be loaned to the agricultural countries to start them 
on the new line of development or to build railways and roads, and the 
debtor country might, and in some cases does, profit by its indebtedness. 
But industrial groups, to keep their works going, have not seldom been 
willing to get payment in bonds, or banks in creditor countries have issued 
bonds the produce of which has been used to pay for goods sent to debtor 
countries when cash and exports did not suffice. There has often been 
an eagerness to put off the day of reckoning in this way because direct 
payment would depreciate the debtors' currency. Moreover, in far too 
many cases, an evil chain of consequences works itself out. Part of the 
loan spills over into unauthorised channels on its way to its destination ; 
much is probably spent on railways that may not earn a cent for a century ; 
not a little may go in various schemes of display to try to conquer what is 
now called an inferiority complex. It is true that default is not infrequent, 
and, in this way, international debts that are not represented by sub- 
stantial assets do wipe themselves out in time ; but the process is harmful 


to the society that defaults. In other words, the spread of mass-produc- 
tion and commerce needs to be looked at less from the point of view of how 
as many pins as possible may be produced as quickly and as cheaply as 
possible, and more from the point of view of the health, and especially 
the continuing mental and moral health, of the societies concerned. A 
historical geography of international indebtedness is much needed. 

We need to think of forms of society the world over not merely as 
examples of halts at various stations along a road on which the industrialist 
nations have advanced farthest. To do that is to choose out and empha- 
sise points in our own experience and to make thence a kind of footrule 
wherewith to measure the world. An Oriental sage, with as little or as 
much justification, might invent a very different measure for us, and say 
that patriotism, for example, is a relic of barbarism that has brought 
calamity to twentieth-century Europe. Human societies are primarily 
associations between men and the earth in particular areas, and must be 
studied objectively as such, and also in relation to what they receive from 

n. Hunting Groups ; their Geographical Distribution, 
Past and Present. 

When men developed the hunting habit, social life probably took a 
great step forward and was furnished with a new dynamic influence of 
psychical nature in that the men hunted while the women collected food, 
reared the children, and began to make the home centre, temporary at 
first, with its attendant arts of dealing with fire, skins of animals, grass 
bags, and so on. The group was as yet not fixed in one abode, nor could 
it look or think far ahead. Its observations led, no doubt, to the emphasis- 
ing of coincidences rather than to much real argument, its cosmogony 
was very fragmentary and poor, but it is doubtful whether M. Levy Bruhl 
has justification for saying that the mental processes of pre-agricultural 
peoples are entirely different from ours. In the Old Stone Age hunting 
was the leading scheme of life, and finds of implements allow us to trace 
at least three main waves of dispersal. The first resulted from their 
acquiring the power to chip stone, and probably to make fire as well. 
While some of the early implements are associated with ancient and 
apparently extinct types like the Neandertal race, the chief series, called the 
Chelleo-Acheulean, has no skeletons definitely associated with it in Europe, 
but there is an a priori possibility that this series, or a part of it, is associ- 
ated with Homo sapiens. The claim that Oldoway man is contemporary 
with the Chelleo-Acheulean culture of the bed in which it lay is not con- 
firmed and it is likely that the skeleton is a later burial. Leakey has, 
however, apparently found H. sapiens with tools of this series elsewhere 
in East Africa. The Chelleo-Acheulean series is found over much of 
Africa, save the equatorial forest regions, in south-western Asia and parts 
of southern India, and over south-western Europe. 

The second great move forward seems to have come with the use of 
muhiform tools for different purposes, though the recognition by their 
makers of definite types of tools must not be over-emphasised ; the 
mounting of stone points and edges in wood, the beginnings of artistic 

E 2 


skill, were other features. Finds of the so-called Upper Palseolithic series 
of tools are again characteristic of much of Africa, the north and the east 
at any rate, of south-western Asia and central and south-western Europe. 
Within this area the Aurignacian variety of this culture bears character- 
istic marks over wide areas. It is definitely associated in Africa and 
Europe with Homo sapiens and there is a considerable range of form 
among the skeletons found, suggesting that Homo sapiens already had a 
long history. 

It is at any rate possible that the makers of the earlier Pleistocene tools 
(Chellean and Acheulean) belonged to Homo sapiens. If so, they seem to 
have flourished in Africa during early phases of the European Ice Age 
(probably the Mindel phase of Penck), and to have spread into Europe 
when aridity ensued in the next interglacial phase (probably the phase 
which included the formation of the Hotting breccia which is allocated to 
the Mindel-Riss interval by many students but by some to the Riss- 
Wiirm). A set-back was followed by a new and much more capable 
advance, that of the Aurignacian-Capsian hunters. 

In the interval, however, another culture-spread occurred. Utilisers 
of flint flakes have left their traces in early and middle Pleistocene layers 
in various parts of Eurasia, and the developed form of the culture has been 
called Mousterian. In China, Palestine and Europe it is associated with 
beings who do not belong to Homo sapiens, but we do not yet know what 
type or types of men were associated with it in North or East Africa, and 
it is quite possible that there its ideas were taken up in varying degrees in 
different parts by Homo sapiens who had already used flakes a good deal. 
This is an archaeological rather than a geographical question, but the 
possibility is relevant to our present purpose. For, beyond the area of 
the Capsian-Aurignacian cultures, to the south and south-east especially, 
there is evidence of spread of a hunting culture that seems best described, 
provisionally, as based on a mixture of Mousterian and Aurignacian ideas. 
The tools in question are known from South Africa, as well as from India, 
and they linger on in use as the basis of Australian culture, as Sollas long 
ago pointed out, though there they are affected by fragments of later 
cultures. The importance of what is now the African-Arabian arid zone 
in the days when hunters were the most advanced social types is under- 
stood if we reflect on the importance of the ungulate herds, especially 
Antelopidas, on African grasslands, and if we realise that, during glacial 
conditions in Europe, North Africa and Arabia would get considerably 
more winter rainfall, though parts of the eastern Sahara, for example, may 
well have been arid throughout. Long after the spread of the Aurig- 
nacian-Capsian hunters, who reached Europe via Spain across the Straits 
of Gibraltar during an ice retreat, there occurred a third dispersal indicated 
by finds of implements of flint and chert as before, but many of these are 
very small and are called pygmy flints. Men were spreading more widely 
over Europe and Asia, probably because the ice sheets had retreated. It 
is quite likely that there was no first-class advance of civilisation at this 
stage but rather a driving force behind, namely, the intensification of the 
desert in northern Africa and south-western Asia. 

With the next great movement we meet agriculture, so we must pause 


here to note the fate of societies that have hngered at this stage of hunting 
and collecting. 

If we use as a hypothesis the idea of drifts from northern Africa and 
south-western Asia, we have a key to some modern distributions of hunting 
peoples. These societies are either in what are ultimate corners or in areas 
of special difficulty ; elsewhere they have been superseded by agricul- 
turists. The pygmies of the equatorial forest of Africa are remnants in 
a region of hot wet climate where debilitation makes achievement difficult, 
and one may discuss in what measure these lowly people are primitive 
and in what measure they are degenerate. Biologists find the same type 
of question arises concerning the lowliest members of various animal 
groups. The Bushmen of south-western Africa are in a region of sheer 
poverty in a far corner. The Veddah and some jungle tribes of southern 
India are in another far corner under conditions that forest or jungle 
makes difficult. The Australians and recently extinct Tasmanians are 
in a far corner, isolated by orographical changes. The pygmies and some 
other hunting groups of the Malay and the East Indies and Philippines 
are, again, in what are almost ultimate corners, isolated by land-sinking, 
and , also, in regions of warm wet forest. North-eastern Asia also has some 
hunting groups, but here it is possible that some of the peoples, as Demo- 
lins thought, may have given up pastoralism as they drifted north-eastward 
from the interior of Asia. The pre-Columbian hunting peoples of the 
New World are omitted from this sketch, as they would need separate 
discussion, for the story of spreads of culture into America is a complex 
one, as the hunting peoples of pre-Columbian America have a more 
intricate cultural history than have many of those of the Old World. 

III. Agricultural Peoples — Origins. 

The third, or epi-Paljeolithic drift, it has been suggested, was corre- 
lated with the intensification of the desert in northern Africa and south- 
western Asia. That great change apparently had the further effect of causing 
pressure of population on the Nile and Euphrates and possibly the Indus 
as well, all rivers with regular floods running through dry, or, then, fairly 
dry open country with a warm season. In or near these river- valleys, 
and probably other minor ones of the Syria-Palestine region, there arose, 
perhaps at one, perhaps in more than one, place the art of cultivation. 
Barley apparently is native to south-western Asia and north-eastern Africa, 
and the wild ancestors of our wheats include plants native to south-western 
Asia, but it is well known that the story of domestic wheat is a complex 
one. These facts suggest that the Fertile Crescent and Egypt are the first 
homes of agriculture, while the Indus civilisation maybe an early derivative. 
All these rivers permitted and encouraged irrigation, and the deposit of 
silt from floods gives a renewal of fertility, so exhaustion of the soil, a 
serious difficulty in later extensions of agriculture to other lands, was not 
a problem of early cultivators near the rivers, and this was no doubt a 
great help to settlement. The courses of the Euphrates and Indus were 
conspicuously subject to variation, whereas the Nile is confined in its 
famous slot and its peasantry has gone on from time immemorial until 
near our own day with a remarkable measure of constancy as regards the 


economic basis of life. In Mesopotamia and on the Indus there have been 
more marked fluctuations ; cities grew up and then died down when a 
stream left them to take a new course, and there was thus much wastage 
of momentum, with, no doubt, compensations in the direction of freshness 
of attack on environmental difficulties. The Nile slot contrasts so sharply 
with the plateau desert on either side that the peasantry now, and probably 
in the past, know little of the desert and fear it ; Egypt basically seems to 
have been at first a self-contained unit receiving stimuli from withput ; 
Mesopotamia with its fluctuations seems to have exercised more influence 
over regions of Asia and Europe. How far the Indus civilisation aifected 
the pre-Aryan life of central and southern India and thus the cultures 
associated with the speakers of Dravidian languages, which are still so 
important in southern India, is still a matter for pioneer research, though 
Slater has to some extent made an attempt to work this out — an attempt 
the more striking in that it was made before Sir John Marshall had dis- 
covered the Indus civilisation. 

It is important to note here the immensity of the change that modern 
ideas have effected in Egypt. Perennial irrigation has made it possible 
to grow different crops in the different seasons, and the population has 
increased phenomenally. But the new schemes draw more from the soil 
and give it less silt, so Egypt is needing to import manures, and her agri- 
cultural life is drawn into commercial relations in revolutionary fashion. 

IV. Cultivators and Herdsmen. 
It is probable that the earliest cultivators were still without domestic 
animals, and the old view, still so often quoted, that hunting developed 
via pastoralism into agriculture, is now to be considered very doubtful. 
But domestication of animals was an achievement of very early times too, 
and, in such regions as the Fertile Crescent with its grass zones, it un- 
doubtedly assumed great importance and led to the beginning of age- 
long conflicts and interactions between herdsmen and cultivators. The 
herdsmen, basically a close corporation gathering around the flocks and 
needing men to add to their strength for defence, as well as discipline and 
organisation to maintain unity, have often dominated peasant neigh- 
bours, but this special ability appears to have been much developed when 
the horse was acquired as a companion and helper — and that belongs to a 
later stage of this argument. The close nomad corporation, with little 
opportunity of expressing itself in luxury and building, has as features 
family pride and the idealisation of the hero ancestor. A measure of endo- 
gamy is a natural expression of this mentality, whereas some amount of 
exogamy is often encouraged by cultivators, probably as a means to peace. 

V. Social Features accompanying Cultivation. 
The bearings of the introduction of cultivation on social life and organisa- 
tion have obviously been of the first importance. There was involved 
the idea of sowing for a crop to be reaped weeks or even months ahead — 
that is, there was now an incitement to prevision and provision. There 
was an observable sequence that made argument more solid than it was 


likely to be in the days of hunting when accidental coincidences loomed 
larger. In fact a growth of rationality must have been a feature, and with 
it came increased power of choice that is described in the account in 
Genesis as the knowledge of good and evil. The habit of prevision 
extended itself through calculations of the coming of the floods and 
correlated study of the heavenly bodies to the framing of a calendar. So 
society acquired a learned tradition and lifted itself some way above the 
old level of dependence on the personal power of medicine-men and the like . 
There was a further extension of prevision beyond that to a succession 
of years — namely, to a succession of generations specially associated with 
the domestication of animals and with the family, and with this came 
the growth of the idea of a mother-goddess or goddess of fertility which 
has so widely influenced society. Thought, drawn out towards the future, 
seems just as naturally to have run back into the past, giving rise to gene- 
alogies which are one of the germs of history and also to rites of reverence 
paid to ancestors. These rites, not unnaturally, are specially marked in 
regions such as China which owe so much of their civilisation to early 
interactions of herdsmen and cultivators on the ways from central Asia. 
It is of interest to note that the large household, linked by real or some- 
times assumed blood relationship, seems a social feature of basic character 
among the cultivators of northern China, and in other forms is notable 
among other cultivators around the edges of the great steppe, the famous 
Zadruga of parts of the Balkan peninsula being a case in point in a region 
in which interactions between herdsmen and cultivators have been and 
still remain most important features of life. The Russian Mir sometimes 
had a like origin. It is naturally a social development in large measure 
antagonistic to the growth of nationalism. 

Along with the primarily psychical development accompanying the rise 
of cultivation went the linking of society with a definite piece of land 
through the establishment of the settled life. This association is one of 
the most important features of settled society, and, occurring more or less 
in the same phase of development as the mental changes just named, it 
seems to have led to what has become a most widespread characteristic : 
this is the idea that the living hold a trust from their forefathers and 
will pass it on to future generations. This trust includes both the land to 
which the society is linked, and the customs, traditions and rites of the 
group. It must defend these when necessary, and it is likely to resist 
violent and deliberate change in them, though change of the ' common 
stock of ideas ' of the society is always going on. The old local unit, 
large household or village, worked rather by ' declaring the custom ' of 
the people than by debating projects of change. 

There was, in the same phase of development, a marked growth of 
specialisation as between individuals in some, at any rate, of the settled 
societies. Marked advances of the potter's art, of the arts of stone grinding 
and metallurgy, apparently of carpentry, weaving and so on, all belong to 
early stages of cultivation. There appears also to have been, even in 
early stages, some exchange between different groups and a good deal of 
fusion, as well as division, of groups. But in spite of these last two 
considerations, the early cultivator-society seems to have been primarily 


self-contained, with external exchanges as a subordinate matter, however 

Whatever may be found hereafter concerning the phases through which 
the early cultivating societies developed in their primary homes, there is 
little doubt that the spread of their scheme of life occurred in most direc- 
tions in two stages. The first went with the hoe, used chiefly by women, 
and with domestic animals for food or milk, but not for work, and the 
second with the plough drawn by domestic animals under male control, 
as well as with the increasing use of domestic animals as carriers and 
workers in other ways such as the turning of a water-wheel. At a later 
stage comes the relief given to women from the work of crushing grain. 

VI. The Spread of the Idea of Cultivation, and its Primary 


The first of these two rather artificially contrasted stages is the one 
that spread into intertropical Africa. There were special difficulties here. 
Firstly the climate made steady prolonged efficient exertion difficult in many 
areas. Then the fundamental crops, wheat and barley, would not thrive 
in most parts and inferior grains and other plants became the important 
crops. Further, there were practically no wild plants in intertropical 
Africa that the native cultivator contrived to domesticate ; so progress 
depended largely on plants deliberately introduced, as for example via 
Egypt or by Arabs, Portuguese, etc., in later times. The introduction of 
maize, manioc, etc., from America has made a huge difference to Africa. 
Fly belts in several regions, also lack of salt and phosphorus deficiency, 
and no doubt climatic factors, limited the value of domestic animals in 
Africa between the Tropics. The plough reached the Niger in due course, 
and Abyssinia also presents a special case, but, these apart, it is the 
lowlier stage of agriculture, supplemented by survivals of hunting and 
collecting, that is characteristic of the region. Nevertheless, the social 
life of African cultivators generally has at its base some feeling towards 
the idea of a trust handed along the generations. Systems of land tenures 
and utilisation vary greatly but usually gather around an idea of the land 
as the basis of the group's life, and that land, however utilised by families 
or individuals, is basically the property of the group or of the chief or king 
as a sort of personification of the group. It is something either given by 
nature or acquired or lost through war rather than something bought or 
sold, and leases are nearly always subject to customary limitations and not 
intended to lead to alienation in permanency. 

Archaeologists think agriculture spread into central Europe at first 
with the hoe and the non-permanent village that is a feature of parts of 
intertropical Africa ; and there are indications of the same scheme in 
forested and therefore backward parts of central India and elsewhere in 
south-east Asia as well as in north Korea. It is a useful hypothesis, not 
as yet proved, that this was the first stage of agriculture in most regions, 
save where irrigation offered the simple method of flooding with water 
containing fertilising silt. 

Agriculture with the plough has now ousted this scheme from Europe 
and most of Asia and, in this superior stage, the village becomes more 

E.— GEOGRAPHY 1 1 1 

permanent : either a rotation in the use of lands is established and the 
households have their strips in each of the village lands, or a portion of 
the village land specially enriched by manure from stock folded on it may 
be cultivated nearly every year, and some portion of an ' outfield ' may be 
used as may be required or may be possible. There seems to have been, 
with the growth of this phase, an increase of the social or conjoint activi- 
ties of the group. In many parts of Europe harvesting had to be com- 
pleted by a certain day, on which a bell was rung and the fences around the 
crops removed to allow the cattle to feed in the stubble fields and give 
them manure. This is but one of scores of activities regulated for the 
village by custom and continuing through centuries, a scheme of life 
which maintained and developed the idea of a trust handed along the 
generations. Communal agriculture has largely passed away in Europe, 
but it is the basis on which later systems have been built, and its idea of 
the soil as a trust underlies much that is still important. It is important 
perhaps most of all because of a long continuity of inheritance, but it is 
in danger from the fact that our industrial culture is so drastically uncon- 
formable above these deeper layers, and has so diverged from the idea of 
a society living in close relation with a particular piece of the earth. The 
danger of unconformable superposition of cultures, when very extreme, 
is illustrated by the fate of the pre-Columbian life of America, and the 
peoples concerned, in the last few centuries. 

In the regions with irrigation or plough agriculture or both, the differ- 
entiation of crafts went much farther than among societies with hoe 
cultivation. Exchange developed more considerably and there are towns 
or cities, fundamentally centres of exchange and of handicraft, and often 
of a priesthood and government. Cities are not found in intertropical 
Africa save in a few spots where they are due to intrusive influences of 
fairly recent date. The typical social unit in Africa is thus the village or 
the little group of villages ; in Europe and Asia the village may be the 
fundamental unit among settled peoples, but it also forms part of a larger 
unit made up of a town and a number of villages. 

The nomadic or semi-nomadic societies of intertropical Africa live 
on their cattle, and by hunting and collecting, as well as by raiding those 
who are more sedentary and less ready for war. The nomadic and semi- 
nomadic societies of Europe, Asia and northern Africa have in many cases 
the important auxiliary activity of trade, and use their beasts as carriers. 
Moreover, they have typically developed or contributed to the develop- 
ment of stations, which have in many cases become centres of trade and 
religion, i.e. sacred cities, near the bounds of the waste or in oases. The 
names of Mecca, Medina, Jerusalem, Damascus, Ur of the Chaldees, 
Babylon itself, Khiva, Bukhara, Merv, Samarcand, Lhasa and many another 
crowd on one's memory. In China, India and the Fertile Crescent the 
semi-nomad, especially after he acquired the use of the horse, found it 
possible to dominate the cultivator, and seems often to have contributed 
an elaboration of organisation to the group of social units, villages and their 
focal towns become grouped into larger entities. In Africa, too, pastoral 
groups have repeatedly conquered cultivators and, in such cases as that 
of the Baganda, have attempted a considerable amount of organisation 


with a hierarchy of units, but all this remains far cruder in regions where 
the hoe is the instrument of cultivation than where the plough is used and 
especially where the horse is available. 

It is important to bear in mind contrasts between the various steppe 
lands of the Old World. In the first place, one may distinguish the 
northern steppe, north of Iran, from the southern steppe including Iran, 
Arabia and parts of northern Africa. For considerable periods in the 
Pleistocene the southern steppe was in many parts better watered than it 
now is, and included much land that is now desert. On the other hand, 
much of the northern steppe was apparently either under ice or under the 
water derived from the melting of ice. Parts of the southern steppe were 
of special importance as a home of hunting groups ; of the northern steppe 
at that stage we know little. Parts of the southern steppe have a little 
rain in winter, the northern steppe is subjected to the fiercest cold at that 

The rivers of the southern steppe lend themselves to fertilisation of 
land tracts as well as to movement of trade, and, with the aid of the climate, 
agriculture developed far earlier and far more highly than it did in the 
northern steppe, and there are far more ancient cities. 

In the southern steppe, ass, sheep, goat and camel are characteristic 
and traditional, with cattle in the vicinity of water. The camel appears 
to have reached Egypt, presumably from Arabia, at a very early period 
(in or before the First Dynasty), and it no doubt promoted trade. The 
northern steppe by way of contrast had large herds of cattle, sheep and 
horses, and milch mares gave a very valuable and complete food which 
was not available on the southern steppe. The latter is so dry and hot 
that the horse does not seem to have been fully adapted until the days of 
the Arab horse, inured to abstinence and evolved in Nejd in post-Roman 
times. The horse was, however, of great importance in the southern 
steppe before this. It is thanks to the horse, acquired from the Hyksos, 
that the Eighteenth Dynasty of Egypt transformed that once self-contained 
country into a far-flung empire. It is thanks to the horse that the lowland 
ways of Palestine became important under the kingdoms of Israel and 
Judah, and Israel broke away from the old-fashioned Judah to throw 
herself more fully into the new life. The horse was the ally of the Persian 
Kings of Kings, whose cradleland was among the hills of Ears with grass 
and streams. But all these earlier mentions of the horse are connected 
mainly with the fertile border of the steppe. 

The multiplicity of relations between nomad and cultivator in the 
southern steppe has led the conquering herdsman to use the scribes of 
the cities he took in order to get written records of his prized genealogies 
and ancestral achievements, once he had become too busy with adminis- 
tration and policy to carry these in his memory as in the old days of the 
simple life and the blood feud. There is naturally far less of all this on 
the northern steppe, which a French writer has described as the land of 
peuples sans histoire. The many contacts of the southern steppe, and its 
nomads and its citizens, have led to the exchange of ideas and the broaden- 
ing of the religious vision, so that this is the cradle of the mono- 
theistic religions ; in so far as the northern steppe has become 


monotheistic it has been by the spread of influences from the southern. 
One may look upon this as a return gift for the horse, passed on from the 
northern to the southern steppe and effecting there so many of the contacts 
which made big reHgious ideas develop. 

The southern steppe may be divided into regions such as Iran, Arabia, 
north Africa. The northern steppe in its turn is divisible into the low 
steppe of Turan or Turkestan with extensions into Europe, the plateau 
steppe around Gobi and the Takla Makan, and the mountain steppe or, 
rather, desert of Tibet. Moreover, the borders of the northern steppe, 
towards the rainier lands both west and east, have been in many ways 
rather distinct. Their nomads have been able to use oxen to draw wheeled 
carts, on which the tents were built. The wheeled nomads near the 
cultivators of the loess, the fertile soil of the steppe edges, offer a special 
case of contact of nomad and peasant. The nomads with control of large 
spaces and transport by horse and wheeled ox carts have been able to make 
their power seriously felt. 

VII. Consciousness of Kind in its Geographical Settings. 

The social group gathered around land held in trust along the genera- 
tions has added to the expressions of its common life and to its conscious- 
ness of kind by developments of language and religion, of peculiarities of 
clothing and hairdressing, and other shibboleths, but it would apparently 
be exaggerating matters were we to think of our modern idea of linguistic 
nationalism as at all widely developed in early times. As already stated, 
the village, or the pays, or other small district was, of old, the effective 
unit. Consciousness of kind might be strongly developed in the Hebrew 
group that came back from exile in Babylon, but speaking generally that 
consciousness had to grow much further before modern nationalism could 
arise from it. In India distinctions between pastoralist conquerors and 
cultivator subjects gave impetus to the growth of caste, and this was an 
alternative channel along which consciousness of kind could grow. 
Nationalism in India is quite a modern political reaction. In China 
conquerors from the steppe have always had to merge themselves in the 
people, for the great mass of whom there has been no urgent need of 
common action against the outsider, at any rate until our own time ; and 
in China, again, nationalism is just in its birth-throes. In Japan, on the 
other hand, there was a prolonged struggle, on a relatively narrow front, 
for the conquest of land inhabited by aborigines, remnants of whom have 
been absorbed into the group of the intensely nationalist conquerors, 
organised as a feudal hierarchy. 

In the classical lands of the Mediterranean, a variety of environmental 
and other causes, too familiar to need discussion here, made the city the 
general unit of society, and it is a commonplace that in many parts of the 
Mediterranean region even a place that has a population of what we in 
north-west Europe call a village affects the form and lineaments of a city. 
Consciousness of kind in considerable measure developed among these 
small units, and only the middle of the nineteenth century saw the rise of 
Italian nationalism in the guise of a struggle against foreign domination. 
Greek nationalism, also, came to birth as the struggle against Turkish 


rule became possible. Spain on the other hand, with its long fight foi 
Roman Catholicism against Islam, developed nationalism earlier, and 
naturally gave it an intensely zealotic flavour. That this feature has 
limited its growth seems beyond doubt. 

In west, north-west and parts of central Europe early development was 
slow because the food-plants and animal breeds had to be acclimatised, 
and the problem of soil exhaustion was serious even if mitigated where the 
subsoil was of loess or related material. Nevertheless, there can be no 
doubt that settled populations in central and western Europe practising 
agriculture and living in villages were much more numerous in far pre- 
Roman times than it was customary to think a generation ago. It would 
appear that the languages in use in those days changed from time to time 
with conquests or migrations, and that Roman influence affected language 
far and wide. Thus, in west, north-west and central Europe, language 
up to Roman times appears to have played at most only a minor part in 
developing durable consciousness of kind. The centuries following the 
fall of the Roman Empire are dubbed the Dark Ages, and it is as they pass 
away that the germs of the future linguistic national groups become clear, 
with attempts to organise governments that were more than local in the 
small sense, while leaving the fundamental village units in large measure 
to themselves. 

The spread of Islam in the Mediterranean region cut old trade routes 
for a time, and this increased the poverty following the decline of the 
Roman Empire, so that towns and cities went through a bad time, but 
apparently in several areas there was a marked increase of rural settlement, 
notably in central Europe, where this is called the Rodungszeit from the 
amount of forest clearing. Apparently the large plough worked by an 
ox team came into use, or, at any rate, wider use, at this time, and helped 
to develop the three-field in place of the two-field system — that is, a 
scheme in which two-thirds, as against one-half previously, of the village 
lands bore crops in each year. The unsettled state of affairs as well as 
this more elaborate system of communal cultivation made the village a 
very self-contained unit with a very definite routine. Neighbourhood in 
many cases came to mean as much as, or more than, kinship. The spread 
of clerical celibacy meanwhile caused the Church to recruit the clergy from 
the people, and thus the clergy often belonged to the locality in which they 
functioned, so the structure of society came to be built around local units, 
the majority of them rural. 

As a hierarchy of social units re-established itself, growing mainly from 
local roots instead of from an external influence such as that of Rome, 
it is natural that such hierarchies should spring up where there was mutual 
comprehension of language in groups of villages and their focal market 
towns, and cathedral cities in France. Moreover, charters and grants 
and agreements written in the vernacular came to be increasingly im- 
portant, while the use of the vernacular in courts of first instance developed 
folk-speech. It is apparently a combination of all these factors that has 
maintained the distribution of the peasant languages of Europe without 
any change of great importance since the Middle Ages. 

The idea of the city can be traced eastwards and northwards from 


France and the Rhine in the early Middle Ages, and, in relation with this, 
often, at the present day, the life of a town connects it with regions farther 
west, while the peasant life round about knows nothing of this. The 
Renaissance, being essentially an urban movement, accentuated this, and 
we note the French leanings of part of the upper classes in Alsace contrasted 
with the Alemannic tradition of the peasantry, German aristocracy and 
Danish common folk in parts of Slesvig, German (including Yiddish) 
affiliations of towns in Poland as against Slavonic life among the peasantry, 
Polish affiliation of towns and the upper classes in East Poland as contrasted 
with Lithuanian (in the north) and Ruthenian (in Eastern Galicia) 
traditions of the peasantry. This difference in the fit of the traditional 
frames of life has become one of the most troublesome difficulties of 
Europe, by no means diminished in 1918-20 through the decision to follow 
now the urban and now the rural tradition in rearranging boundaries to 
suit political exigencies and a greatly intensified consciousness of kind 
following the bitter struggle of 1914-18. 

VIII. Traditionalism and Individualism in various Geographical 
Environments. Mass-Production. 

But the problem was greatly deepened by another sequence of develop- 
ment. The Renaissance, whatever else it may have done, was a potent 
factor of the rise and spread of individuality. After it, much larger 
numbers of men in Europe became less members of a traditionalist com- 
munity and more definitely persons with ideas of their own to express. 

In agricultural life the introduction of seed grasses, sown clover and 
root crops, and, later on, of the potato, helped to break down the old 
communal cultivation, perhaps most of all by interfering with the old 
right of stubble pasture. Individualism in farming made its way in the 
end, and the last eighty years have seen further revolutionary changes 
due to modern transport developments. 

In urban life, the increased wealth that more elaborate agriculture 
brought, and the growth of commerce, coupled with the individualist 
spirit, made craftsmanship become more differentiated, and guild systems 
gave place to independent enterprises, with apprenticeship continuing 
the old idea of maintenance of a trust handed down and passed on. 

But in some parts, notably in France, these changes, and even great 
political convulsions, long left some basic facts of society untouched. 
The peasantry long remained attached to, almost worshippers of, their soil, 
even if in parts of the west and south of that country this is no longer the 
case. The peasant acquired more dignity, but the village remained an 
entity ; men still often make it their main ambition to hand on an improved 
farm to their descendants. The town too is often still essentially the 
focus and market for its region, and it often still carries on a number of 
smallish industries for the benefit of its neighbourhood. Its bourgeois 
are peasants only slightly modified. The idea of maintenance, rather than 
that of expansion on an English, German or American scale, is strong 
in many minds and France, characteristically, makes external trade sub- 
ordinate to internal production for use and exchange. The reasonable 
assurance of her wheat, root-crop, potato, and, but for a few calamitous 


years, vine and apple harvests, thanks to sunshine, has contributed a great 
deal to this, and has helped the French people to modify into modern 
forms the age-old feeling of a trusteeship (of the sacred soil) handed along 
the generations. With ideas of this kind shaping social life the population 
of France has grown only relatively slowly, and a country which led in 
population a century ago now has far fewer people than Germany and 
fewer than Great Britain, countries which have pursued a different course 
of evolution. 

Britain's harvests have long been less secure because of summer rains 
and coolness, and, in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, there 
grew first a widespread maritime commerce, and then manufacturing in- 
dustries — in fact, the Industrial Revolution with its financial successes and 
its notion of taking a profit wherever that could be made. This new and 
enormous development in Britain almost made people forget the old feeling 
of trusteeship and maintenance ; what would pay for the next few years 
became more important than any question of its lasting as a means of 
livelihood for the third and fourth generation. An immense increase of 
population was an accompaniment of this, and for a while the surplus 
found outlets in distant lands, so that British expansion has become one 
of the outstanding facts of the world's history. 

But the home population came to exceed by a great deal the numbers 
that could be kept busy supplying the needs of their fellow-citizens. 
Britain's export trade came to be her mainstay, and few recognised the 
dangers of the position thus created, for, in early stages, Britain's industry 
was far ahead of that of other countries. 

The contrast between French and British development was thus ex- 
treme and startling. That it did not lead to more trouble between them 
after 1815 was due partly to the opportunities for expansion of trade, and 
of settlement, outside Europe. 

Industrialism spread from Britain to Germany and led to a parallel 
increase of population, but this time with less facility for its emigration, 
because by this time there were few new lands without organised govern- 
ment, and German emigration, therefore, now meant the ultimate loss of 
the direct link with the Fatherland. Then, also, the German efl^ort had 
its aim moulded politically by the desire to rise out of an old position of 
political inferiority and disunion. Further, the historic cities of Germany 
in several cases, such as Niirnberg, Frankfurt-am-Main, Koln, Leipzig, and 
so on, had their situations predetermined by major physical considera- 
tions, and must be important centres so long as Germany is a land of 
organised civilisation. This fact and the related one of the finding of coal 
near the zone of gradation from the hills to the northern plain — i.e. a zone 
of cities — led to the development of modern industry in several cases in 
historic towns, whereas in England the greatest developments took place 
in what had previously been small places. Both national and municipal 
authorities in Germany, therefore, had a larger and more direct share in 
the directing of industrial growth than was the case in Britain. Manu- 
factures, mining and agriculture were made to interlock where possible, 
and the profits derived from new growth of cities often came to the 
municipal treasur)\ The tendency was for the nation to become one 


great organisation, with agricultural, manufacturing, mining, financial and 
commercial aspects of its life interwoven much more than in Britain. As 
a result it often planned for years ahead, and redeveloped in modified 
form the old idea of a trust to be handed on. 

If we think along these lines we see why, quite apart from wars and 
questions of external political ambition on one side or the other, it has 
come about that the French people have been gravely anxious. Here 
are two enormously increased units, England and Germany, both 
dependent on export trade, neither able to live with any reasonable 
standard for the great multitude mainly on the produce of the national 
soil ; both, before 1914, becoming able to lend abroad, both liable to 
crises with the spread of industrialism to other lands, especially outside 
Europe, and to the consequent checks to old lines in staple export trades. 
France, urged, not very willingly, and to a smaller extent, along the same 
lines for fear of being outclassed, could not but cherish the idea of the 
peasant nation with external commerce as a secondary feature, and a 
system that, at any rate, seemed to promise more continuity of economic 
activities through the generations. There is thus a conflict between 
different ideas of society underlying the present difficulties of Europe and 
the world, and, naturally, nowhere is it so acute as it is between France 
and Germany. It is well known that M. Clemenceau summed up the 
problem of Europe by saying that there were too many millions of Germans 
and British. He might have added ' and too few millions of tons of coal 
in France.' His statement was less a callous gibe than an anxious thought, 
fearful lest a society cherishing social continuity and economic stability 
should be overwhelmed by one that had grown suddenly through an 
expansion that was likely to receive a sharp check and must, therefore, 
face a serious crisis, sooner or later, when more of the world's peoples 
came to make things for themselves. 

The spread of large-scale industrialism to U.S.A. and Japan and the 
prospect of its emergence elsewhere make the attendant problems still 
more serious. There are now several states that have populations ex- 
ceeding what their soils can support unless science intervenes afresh ; all 
therefore compete for an increasingly precarious export trade, all are in 
danger of finding groups of their people, with highly specialised machine- 
tending activities and corresponding inelasticity of mind, suddenly 
thrown out of employment and unable to adjust themselves to new lines 
of enterprise. 

Meanwhile nearly half mankind, in the monsoon lands of Asia apart 
from Japan, is being shaken out of its traditionalist schemes by contact 
with the west, and nationalist ideas are germinating in various ways along- 
side of schemes of industrial development that borrow from the west to 
such an extent as to be a danger to indigenous society. Then the newer 
lands which have received the later overflow of modern Europe, and which 
seemed likely to become producers of raw material for Europe, are also 
being forced along the same line of nationalist development. They have 
borrowed freely from Europe (chiefly Britain and France) and more lately 
from America, and have consequently found themselves faced with the 
duty of finding large amounts of interest. This interest often, as already 


stated, is not by any means earned by the working of the schemes on which 
the money was spent. To meet this call for interest, exports must largely 
exceed imports, and so tariffs are introduced to keep down imports, and 
local industries are started. 

Both in the teeming monsoon lands and in the new lands, therefore, 
industrialism spreads, and both react strongly against the danger of a 
position of inferiority. The risks and evils attendant on international 
indebtedness without strict control have been publicly emphasised of 
late by Sir Arthur Salter and Mr. Loftus and others. The evils attendant 
on the disequilibrium that has arisen between producers of food and raw 
materials on the one hand, and producers of manufactured goods and 
merchants on the other, have not been studied as much as they should be. 
Means must be found to increase self-respect among primary producers, 
not least among those who are natives of intertropical Africa. 

On all sides, in the first great burst of mass-production, local boundaries 
seemed to have been swept away. It is probable that our social thoughts 
and plans will have to regain contact with Mother Earth, each group 
basing itself on its own soil, but evidently not in the old sense of a self- 
contained isolation. Interdependence of all on each is a new feature that 
will become increasingly important, and one of the geographer's tasks is 
to try to see both the roots of each society in its own soil, and its relations 
to others. He must try to see which factors are likely to go on operating 
from generation to generation, and which are temporary, and perhaps 
carry in themselves the germs that will bring their own decay : the 
industrialist society with its accumulations of capital in the hands of the 
grandchildren of able men, and its specialisation of machine tenders 
lacking seriously in the skilful adaptability of the man who thatches to-day 
and ploughs to-morrow — the overpopulated agricultural area losing its 
fertility and driving its people out because of the spectre of famine and 
disease, and perhaps finding no land ready to receive them. It is ad- 
mittedly a most difficult phase of the world's life that has now been reached. 
Traditionalism is challenged everywhere in economic, social and religious 
life as never before. The local group is inevitably part of a great future 
whole, and yet is being forced to think more of its roots in its own soil. 
Each group has its problems and needs the help of others. England has 
her population problem, France her need to safeguard her peasant tradition, 
Germany her need to develop her schemes of welfare planning, and so on. 
But development of each without domination by any is a very difficult 
idea to work out, and in our attempts we are all too likely to try to crystal- 
lise out some condition of status quo, forgetting that life has change as one 
of its basic characteristics. The study of men and their environments 
that we geographers pursue is necessarily always relative to a particular 
time, and must always be looked at in the broad frame of the life of 
mankind as a whole. 






There have been within the last few years a number of reports of special 
British Economic Missions ^ sent to various dominions and foreign 
countries to inquire into the difficulties which are being met in marketing 
British products overseas ; in addition, there have been Government 
Committees ^ specially devoting their attention to this subject. Their 
efforts are an indication of the increasing anxiety with which the British 
export position is being regarded, and it is proposed to consider some 
aspects of their inquiries in the light of the events of the years after 1920. 
Statistical surveys have indicated that Britain had failed to recover in the 
post-war years a position comparable to that which she occupied in 1913 
in the export trades ; this lack of recuperative power was not merely 
absolute, as shown in the decreased quantity of her sales, which in the 
favourable years 1925-29 was estimated to be 10 per cent, below her 
level in the years before 1914, but it was relatively unfavourable in so far 
as world trade and the trade of some of our leading rivals was increasing 
at a more rapid pace and had easily surpassed its pre-war quantities. 

The reasons advanced to explain this generally admitted slowing down 
of overseas sales have varied with the passing of years but have fallen 
into two main groups : the first may be said to place emphasis upon the 
natural course of world development in production combined with the 
long series of casual misfortunes to which British trade has been specially 
subject ; the other tends rather to urge that there is some special retarding 
cause operating in the case of British sales which is not present in the 
case of other countries, at least to the same extent. It finds this under- 
lying cause in non-adjustable costs and in the suggested rigidity in the 
British income and price structure which has put it out of gear with the 
economic levels of price and remuneration in other countries. 

^ Among these reports may be mentioned the following : 

Report of the British Economic Mission to the Far East. 1931 . 

Report of the British Economic Mission to Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay. 

Report of the Cotton Mission to the Far East. 1931. 
Interim Report of the Committee on Education for Salesmanship : British 

Overseas Marketing. 1929. 
Final Report of the Committee on Industry and Trade. 1929. 


Influences Limiting the Expansion of British Exports. 

It is obvious that the two reasons advanced are not necessarily separate 
and mutually exclusive ; the second becomes prominent after 1925-26. 
Passing these influences in review, it may be said that the growth of local 
manufacture and the desire of many countries to develop what they 
believe to be their industrial resources has always been recognised as 
a main factor in the changes which have taken place. It is clearly a 
permanent influence which received special stimulation in the years after 
1914 ; large groups of markets outside Europe found themselves cut 
off from their usual sources of supply for industrial products owing 
particularly to the absence of the two countries which held industrial 
leadership, Britain and Germany. New industries therefore grew up in 
India, China and Japan, in Brazil, Argentina and Chile, in Canada and 
Australia, which required some measure of protection to entrench them- 
selves against the competitive power of long-established foreign organisa- 
tions. This new effort was usually directed to the common grades of 
staple goods, leaving the upper ends of the markets and the specialities 
for later attention. The tendency is one which was familiar before the 
war period, in the textiles at least. 

There is little need to labour the difficulties which accumulated in the 
years 1914-21 for the British staple export industries : fuel production, 
the textiles, the heavies, comprising general engineering, steel smelting, 
iron and steel rolling, together with shipbuilding, became, after 1921, the 
depressed group ; the war period had naturally led to extreme over- 
development of the heavies and of shipbuilding, and had given to Japan 
and to the U.S.A. unrivalled opportunities of making new business con- 
nections in former British markets. For coal-mining the prospects 
seemed at first bright ; neither the Ruhr nor the Nord coalfields recovered 
rapidly ; but the return of these areas to full output, the development of 
the German lignite beds, the new Dutch coalfield, the Polish efforts in 
Silesia, as well as the technical advances in fuel economy, the growth of 
hydro-electric power, the use of oil fuel for shipping, the expansion of 
road transport, placed a serious limit on British power of export. The 
industry was also damaged by the strike of 1926, and by the dislocation of 
its marketing through the method of paying reparations in kind. 

The textiles began to affect the position from 1924 ; the difficulties in 
the Far Eastern markets, the troubles in India, the successful competition 
of Japan, all played their parts. 

The decline in the purchasing power of local populations was also 
commonly advanced as a cause of difficulty ; it was stated that in the 
immediate post-war period the populations of certain regions, such as 
Russia, India, the Near East, the Far East, and Mexico, had suffered a 
decline in their standards of living, and that for a considerable period they 
would be bound to buy goods less expensive than those offered by Britain ; 
they had drifted to a cheaper class of article than formerly. The evidence 
upon this matter is far from satisfactory, and it will be the subject of 
comment later in this survey. 

The heritage of restrictive tendencies and of financial and exchange 


troubles left by the war years is a further factor which is held to have 
retarded recovery. No doubt the multiplication of customs tariffs, the 
enforcement of prohibitions and of trading by restrictive licences, the 
presence of special privileges in trade to particular industries such as 
national shipping, the use of state control and social monopoly by govern- 
ments to avoid the ordinary liabilities of commercial trading, all exercised 
a limiting influence upon international trade, but by 1925 great progress 
had been made in removing the most serious obstacles, and the actual level 
of European tariffs was relatively little higher than that of 1913.^ 

The years after 1925 represent the second phase of recovery from 
war dislocations — namely, the growth of production, trade and general 
material well-being throughout the world ; they were distinguished by 
rapid technological advance in agriculture and in certain new manu- 
facturing industries, such as wireless apparatus, electrical goods, auto- 
mobilism, and artificial silk. This somewhat unbalanced development 
led among other effects to a great cheapness of foodstuffs and raw materials. 
Britain benefited in so far as her exports fell relatively slowly in price 
while her imports of food and raw material fell severely ; she herself had 
no significant agricultural output of this type which was specially injured 
by falling prices, but many of her chief markets were found in regions of 
primary production to which her industrial output was mainly comple- 
mentary, and in this direction she was subjected to losses. 

The return of Britain to the gold standard in April 1925 made the 
exchange position prominent and was held to have imposed a special 
handicap on the British export trades. The General Strike of 1926 and 
the inflationary movements in France, Belgium and Italy followed in 
turn ; each administering its special short-period shock to the business 

The list of unfavourable events leading on to the crisis which began in 
1929 could be made more comprehensive, and it could be argued that 
Britain has been compelled through the pressure of events to recognise 
that her traditional dependence on a large overseas market to assist in the 
full employment of her people at relatively high standards of living is no 
longer feasible, and that her struggle to a new equilibrium position in 
world trade will involve an increased dependence on the home market 
and on those overseas markets where her special characteristic products 
hold their own at remunerative price levels, and the products of which 
are mainly complementary to the chief British industries. Britain might 
be held to be tending to an international position more like that of France, 
where the home and empire markets form the centre block of the foreign 
trade structure. 

The difficulty with this form of interpretation of post-war development 
is that it does not make clear why Britain is in this special position of 
retreat or at least of slow advance as compared with countries whose 
resources seem less than her own. Mr. Loveday and others have stressed 
this point, and the following sentence from his essay on Britain and World 
Trade may be quoted : ' The evidence is, it may be hoped, adequate 
at least to suggest that the difficulties [of Britain] are confined to no 
- Cf. Tariff Level Indices. League of Nations Publication, 1927. 


particular type of industry, major or minor, new or old, that they are due 
neither to the special prosperity in the Far East (or West) nor to the 
chaos in Europe which is passed, neither to inflation nor to deflation, 
that our successful competitors are drawn from all quarters of the globe 
and have pursued currency policies wholly dissimilar. Disorder and 
prosperity, depreciating and appreciating exchanges, tariffs, and dumping, 
subsidies and prohibitions may all in fact have proved damaging ; but 
there must surely have been some special reason connected with our 
internal economy which rendered them more disastrous to the United 
Kingdom than to other countries. But this view is too rarely expressed.' ^ 

The basis of this statement is the examination of international trade 
statistics from 1924 to 1929, which indicates that in a period of general 
prosperity, Britain's rate of advance was relatively much slower than that 
of any other important trading country. It is not so much the depression 
of the depressed industries as the failure of the new industries to grow 
adequately which Loveday deems serious. The trade of the world had 
increased but Britain's share had diminished. Mr. Loveday goes on to 
suggest that the Rueff ^ diagram, showing the numbers of unemployed 
and their relation to the ratio between wholesale prices and wages, leads 
one to think that a lack of adjustment of wages to prices is a serious cause 
of disequilibrium. This evidence seems hardly adequate as an analysis 
of labour costs ; Mr. Cole ^ has worked over wages rates in different 
countries without finding that British wage levels had gone notably out 
of line with those of other industrial countries; and the question of labour 
costs raises broad issues of technical efficiency in industry. As the 
Macmillan Committee ® have pointed out, several of our important 
industries are not among those which have been showing, of late years, 
the most rapid technical advance ; they state that ' in 1929 our exports 
of manufactured goods, though declining, were still greater than those of 
any other country in the world. At the same time our real wages, whilst 
comparing unfavourably with those in the United States (which country, 
however, is unable to compete with us in world markets in our principal 
staple exports such as coal or textiles and many iron and' steel products), 
were much higher than those paid by any of our chief European com- 
petitors.' The maintenance of so great an export trade makes it unlikely 
that British technical efficiency is much behind that of her chief com- 
petitors. On the other hand, they blamed the return of sterling to pre-war 
parity in 1925 as a cause of the difficulties in export, while indicating that 
the organisation of British industry as distinct from its technique was 
often defective, and that we had been slow in applying ourselves on an 
adequate scale to certain of the newer industries. 

Those who offer the above explanation of the export trade difficulties 
arrive, therefore, at the conclusion that it is the relatively high costs of 
certain British industries which have weakened their hold on old markets, 
and that the remedy is to reorganise output and reduce cost until it 

^ Loveday, Britain and World Trade, pp. 170 -171. 193 1. 

* Jacques Rueff, Les Variations du Chumage en Angleterre. 1925. 
^ G. D. H. Cole, British Trade and Industry. 1932. 

* Report of Committee on Finance and Industry, p. 53. 1931. 


returns to its efficiency level with that of foreign competitors. It is then 
thought that the elasticity of demand for British exports in the world's 
trade will be such that expansion of a more rapid kind will take place. 

It is at this point that attention is naturally drawn to the side of demand 
and markets, to inquire if they cast any light upon these issues. The 
missions sent from this country to selected markets went to find out why 
Britain was losing her status in those areas, and within the limits of their 
opportunity gave certain answers. 

The evidence bears upon three issues of importance affecting Britain's 
access to overseas markets : 

(i) The characteristics of the market. 

(2) The structure and efficiency of the distributing organisation. 

(3) The position with regard to tariffs and the use of commercial 

The Sales Position in the Markets. 

It is, no doubt, difficult to make any generalisations which cover so man 
different types of markets and so many commodities without introducing 
undue simplification. It is obvious that there are markets like Indiag 
where Britain sells 5^.' of manufactures per head of population each year, 
and the Far East, where in a good year she may sell i^. 6d. per head of 
estimated population, at one end of the scale, and at the other end countries 
like Australia and New Zealand, where j^io per head is sold, whilst in 
between come areas such as Canada and Newfoundland with £2 los. per 
head, the South American States with 365. to 40^., and Scandinavia with 
28s. to 2,0s. In a populous low-grade market such as China, an increase 
in general prosperity is a most influential factor on purchases, whereas in 
a highly developed country an increase in numbers is for most industries 
an equally favourable sign. 

In spite of these difficulties and limitations a few general matters 
raised by the Economic Missions may be surveyed. It seems generally 
agreed that an increased choice of all classes of goods has become open 
to the overseas purchasers, and that the field of effective competition has 
broadened in most classes of goods, so that traditional business connec- 
tions of a semi-monopolistic kind have lost much of their value. As this 
heritage of predominance was often British, it has followed that the offer 
of alternative choices affected her more than most other countries ; the 
passing of exclusive markets has also meant that a much closer degree of 
adaptation to market requirements must be aimed at, since standard articles 
of consumption have to bear an increased psychical wear and tear. This 
raises serious difficulties for the producer who had hoped to maintain 
mass output methods, but it appears to be a definite trend both in highly 
developed markets where it might be expected and also in more general 
markets such as India where it might not be expected. It must be kept 
in mind that methods of sale in the home market and in countries such 
as the U.S.A. and Australia have made rapid advance within recent years, 
and this striking change in outlook regarding sales and demand is bound 

^ 1927 estimates. 


to spread through the whole field of international commercial intercourse. 
The outlook is away from broad general sales towards differentiation of 
consumer groups. 

Closely associated with the range, choice, and adaptation of the goods 
as produced, there has come increased emphasis on all those services 
which the purchaser requires to accompany a successful sale ; these 
include ' no trouble ' quotations as regards language, prices, weights and 
measures, considered action regarding packing, its weight and suitability, 
a clear position regarding terms of sale, time of delivery, and terms of 
credit, and with some classes of goods the producer or his agent may 
require to instruct the purchaser both in the proper methods of use and 
upkeep. The net terms of purchase have come to cover much more 
than a price, and in some markets have given rise to considerable friction 
between buyers and sellers. 

A somewhat widely quoted criticism of British selling methods has 
been that which urges that the quality of British goods is too good for 
their market, while their price is beyond its paying capacity. In the 
poorer markets like China, this point has, no doubt, substance, but it raises 
difficulties in industrial policy. If what is meant is that Lancashire, for 
example, is sticking to the upper end of the market and offering a better 
article at a higher price, then the question whether such extra quality is 
really dearer in actual use arises. If, on the other hand, an article with 
a short life at a low price is deemed adequate for the job, then this cheap 
grade must be provided if the connection is to be held. No doubt 
British industry cannot view with equanimity the loss of the cheap ends 
of markets ; at the same time it must be recognised that there is more risk 
at the cheap end, since it is more open to competition from the foreign 
country's own industries as well as to that of other countries ; the whole 
trend has been to leave the cheaper and rougher work to beginners or to 
countries with low levels of remuneration. 

The evidence seems to suggest, however, that there has grown up a special 
type of cheap market for articles, either machine or textile, which are 
rapidly scrapped either through the influence of fashion, invention, or 
through having served some limited purpose. The example of a special 
type of shovel,^ light and fragile, used for unloading a cargo of coal and 
then thrown away so that no collecting, storing, or reissuing troubles 
might arise, is a case in point. It was not considered that this article 
compared in any way with a sound standard article, but its net advantages 
were deemed greater to the purchaser. Low price is, of course, vital for 
such sales, and as many such cases can be given, it seems worth further 
investigation whether recent invention in many fields is not creating a cheap 
substitute article to many old-established standard articles of such a 
character that an appeal is made to people with relatively high standards 
of living, and not merely to those who cannot afford anything better. 
A further difficulty emphasised in most of the reports is the credit and 
finance of sales , particularly of machinery and the more elaborate forms of 
capital equipment. It is not possible to consider in this paper how far 
British methods of export finance can be said to curtail unduly the period 
8 Interim Report of the Committee on Education for Salesmanship, p. 27. 


of credit granted to customers or to make it less liberal than before 19 14 in 
important markets. It is clear that a sound policy would depend upon 
a considerable number of general and special factors : the duration of 
overseas credit must usually be longer than the period of domestic credit 
to cover transit time ; the credit worthiness of the firms in a particular 
country or trade must be examined, the customs of the area under 
observation and the general attitude towards meeting obligations ; 
agricultural countries require consideration of their crop position. No 
doubt sales may be stimulated by long credits, but if this merely means 
a loss of all profit or an accumulation of market risks and losses, it is 
simply unsound business dealing. Most countries, including Britain, 
have attempted within the years after 1920 to develop schemes of export 
credit, and of credit insurance to cover certain kinds of exports where 
a period of years was involved, but the state schemes have been carefully 
guarded in their scope and in their bearing of risks, and it seems doubtful 
how far they represent a useful approach to this problem. 

The subject of suitable publicity and advertisement is one which is of 
considerable importance in most markets, and can be made a matter of 
joint effort between firms ; advertisement is one of the best methods of 
conveying information to the consumer ; if incomes are rising in a market 
it is a valuable aid in attracting part of the additional available purchasing 
power to the class of commodity concerned ; in addition it constitutes 
a useful check upon the marketing organisation, since it strikes through 
to the consumer and keeps the commodity before his notice. In so far 
as other commodities are competing either directly or indirectly with the 
article of the advertiser, it may be necessary to engage in combative 
publicity in order to preserve a share of the market. The evidence 
suggests that British traders have not as yet developed so definite an out- 
look upon this form of expenditure as those of certain other countries. 

The Structure and Efficiency of Distributive Organisation. 

The structure and working of the intermediary system have been the 
subject of examination and criticism within recent years, both in the home 
and overseas markets. Fundamentally, no doubt, the problem of pro- 
viding a cheap and efficient marketing system is the same in both cases, 
but overseas distribution involves greater elaboration and complexity of 

Broadly considered, the alternative channels are : 

(i) The sale to merchants in Britain who sell overseas. 

(2) The sale or consignment of goods to merchants overseas. 

(3) The sale direct by the manufacturer's organisation abroad either 
through agents or through its own staff of commercial travellers. 

(4) The employment of central selling agencies of a cartelised type, or 
joint selling organisations of an independent kind. 

All these systems except the last are found on a considerable scale in 
British overseas trade. The view has been expressed that the merchanting 
system is the weak link in the chain, and that efforts should be devoted 
either to the creation of more direct and highly centralised methods of 


marketing or in other cases to various methods of strengthening the inter- 
mediary system to enable it to undertake the heavier modern task of 
keeping in touch with the market. 

The main difficuhy with the merchanting system is held to be the lack 
of incentive to push British goods ; it is immaterial to foreign merchant 
houses whether they push the goods of a particular country or not ; so 
long as British sales were the chief part of the market, it is said, the 
system grew up satisfactorily. An importer, of course, may aim at control 
of his market and attempt to screen it off from the producer, or alternatively, 
with a powerful manufacturing interest, he may become practically an 
exclusive agent for one firm. The method which has grown up particu- 
larly in American business is to put manufacturers' direct representatives 
or service men alongside of the merchants, not to sell but to keep in 
touch with consumers and their outlook, as well as to use methods of 
publicity and marking of goods to acquire the goodwill and indirect 
control of the market. 

There has been a tendency in many markets towards direct methods 
of marketing, even where the countries are not highly developed in- 
dustrially ; with some commodities, such as chemicals, cigarettes, and oil, 
it has even been possible to do up-country direct trading from depots 
managed by agents in China. These efforts to strike more directly 
through to the consumer are very familiar in domestic market organisations, 
but in these days of sensitive national feeling it seems prudent that the 
directness should be associated at least in part with the employment of 
citizens of the country the market of which is being served, either in 
associate companies or subsidiaries ; it may also be wise to associate the 
market served with processes of assemblage, repair, and equipment, 
which confer on the commodity concerned a certain national status. 

A main difficulty in overseas distribution is that small and medium- 
sized firms have little chance of using direct methods unless they combine. 
If they are cartelised, they may develop the central selling agency method, 
but if not, then the difficulty of access to overseas markets can only be 
overcome by some form of joint selling agency supported by firms the 
products of which do not directly compete with each other. 

It is obviously impossible to say without detailed examination and trial 
which of these forms of distributive organisation is best able to survive 
and serve a given market, nor has any evidence of the relative costliness of 
these forms of marketing been available. 

It is clear, however, the British Economic Missions have found in most 
of the markets they examined that high price is the chief difficulty facing 
British expansion, that demand has become much more sensitive and 
exigent in its requirements, that the intermediary structure is subject to 
serious criticism in many areas, and that new experiment and effort to 
keep in closer touch with consumers' outlook is due to be made in foreign 
as in domestic markets. A suitable illustration of these difficulties in 
selling organisation is found in the account given by the Cotton Mission 
to the Far East (1931) of the Chinese market for Lancashire piece goods, 
with its reliance upon importing houses and Chinese dealers, its troubles 
with credit and with dealers who depart hastily to ' Ningpo more far ' in 


lieu of paying their accounts. The mission examined the possibiUties 
of centralised selling, and the warehousing at central points of stocks 
adequate to the market. The views expressed by those engaged in the 
trade laid stress on the necessity of continuing to use the Chinese inter- 
mediary system, whatever change might be made in creating a central 
body with depots to introduce and carry the goods. 

The Need for Market Investigation. 

It may be asked, however, whether general surveys of market diffi- 
culties, such as the British Economic Missions have made, are either 
adequate for their purpose or convey any clear conception of the marketing 
position. In rapid visits they are bound to collect the faults and the 
fault-finders, without having time to get a sense of proportion. No doubt 
there are weaknesses in selling organisation, but Britain has no monopoly 
of shortcomings and her methods are much the same, it may be urged, as 
those of most of her competitors. Such questions are not capable of being 
directly answered ; it is obvious that if the missions have found serious 
faults, attempts should be made to remedy them, even if the U.S.A. 
methods are also faulty ; and further, with changing trade conditions it 
would indeed be peculiar if the field of selling organisation did not show 
tendencies to change, develop and experiment with new ways of adjusting 
demand. It is in fact well known that selling method has been changing 
rapidly in the large domestic markets of Britain and the U.S.A. within 
the last twelve years. 

This is ground for asking if such missions get close enough to their 
work, and have a broad enough conception of their task. 

What is really wanted is a thorough inquiry into the general market 
position as a background for action. There is the grading and grouping 
of consumers, the amounts of their family budgets and standards of living, 
their habits of expenditure, prejudices, preferences, methods of pur- 
chase ; the general character of the distributive structure, the position of 
merchanting, agency, direct trading, and so on ; the variations by regions 
and the variations by season in demand. Last comes the commodity 
marketing investigation, the position of old products and of new ones. 
The position of an established product may be described with reference 
to its users and present uses, the price Hmits within which it sells, the 
existing brands and qualities, reasons for successful expansion of sales 
or of failure, the completeness of its distributive arrangements and its 
usual terms of sale, delivery and so on. Methods of introducing new 
commodities to the consumer, the use of laboratory shops, estimates of 
potential demand, satiation points in consumption, all may be the subject 
of close observation. It may be asked. Who is to undertake such laborious 
investigation ? Much of it is already done in the U.S.A. and a little in 
Britain ; the task would not be so overwhelming if it were systematically 
approached. No doubt manufacturers' own organisations and private 
agencies could undertake some of the work, but the suggestion may be 
made that the Department of Overseas Trade, which is in touch with all 
Britain's overseas markets, might be provided with a staff of marketing 


specialists ^ who would examine sales problems from this angle and who 
could undertake both general studies and commodity marketing studies. 
Such work would give a balanced view of the market examined, and could 
be carried out without offence to other countries ; it is an entirely different 
type of task from that which the U.S.A. Tariff Commission imposed on its 
agents when it instructed them, some years ago, to inquire into the costs 
of production of certain industries in foreign countries. It should be 
possible to define the strength and weakness of a seller, to make some 
estimate of the extent of the existing market and the shares of different 
exporters. In addition, it should cast some light upon the elasticity of 
demand, and whether changes in the product or in its price would enable 
it to reach new groups of consumers. It is not a question of finding out 
whether a few firms sell badly and lose trade, but an entirely different 
attitude towards the possibilities of selling organisation which is most to 
be aimed at. 

The Position with regard to 0\'erseas Tariffs. 

From the standpoint of this paper the only issue which it is proposed 
to discuss in connection with tariffs is whether Britain is at any dis- 
advantage compared with her trade competitors in gaining access to over- 
seas markets. The central feature of her policy within recent times 
has been the unconditional interpretation of the ' most favoured nation ' 
clause : this has meant that Britain claimed by treaty, convention and 
custom that her goods should be admitted at the lowest rates into over- 
seas markets ; even if nations such as the U.S.A. did not accept the 
unconditional interpretation but insisted on ' reciprocity,' Britain has 
commonly enjoyed the benefit of the lowest available rates. The excep- 
tions to this position have been few and unimportant in their relation 
to the export trades. The special circumstances where the clause would 
not apply would be, for example, if there were a complete customs 
union between two countries which maintained their tariff against other 
countries : no third country could claim in virtue of the clause to introduce 
its goods duty free into the united territory. Colonial and Empire 
unions are commonly outside the scope. The case of the preferential 
rates between the U.S.A. and Cuba may be quoted as a general illustration. 
It can therefore be said that British trade is at least as favourably treated 
in foreign markets as that of any other exporting country, and it must 
be added that it is more favourably treated by certain of the overseas 

In so far, however, as Britain is the chief world exporter of manufactured 
goods, tariffs do in fact partially discriminate against her, since if the 
proportion of her exports be taken as 75-80 per cent, manufactured, while 
that of the U.S.A. is only 37-44 per cent., it follows that since finished 
goods tariffs have, until the last two years, ruled much higher than 
agricultural tariffs, Britain has faced the barrage on a larger portion of 
her trade than any other country except, perhaps, Germany. Again, the 

» The Economic Mission to the Far East (Report, p. 128) did recommend a 
service of speciahsts and experts, but the task assigned was not purely market 


so-called ' new industries ' tariffs which have grown up since the war have 
probably proved a more serious obstacle to British and German trading 
interests than to those of other countries, since it is commonly fuel, 
power, textile, iron, steel and engineering developments which are first 
attempted in making the transition from the agricultural to the industrial 
state. A third matter seems to deserve mention : that the elaboration and 
differentiation of tariff ratings which has grown up has to some extent neu- 
tralised the favourable position given to Britain by the M.F.N, clause ; it 
has made it possible to conclude bargains on those qualities of a commodity 
which lay outside Britain's scope, while making no change in those ratings 
which affected her trade. 

Earlier in this paper it was pointed out that up to 1925 there was 
a distinct tendency towards freeing international commercial intercourse 
from its war fetters, and towards tariff simplification and stabilisation at 
levels not much higher than those ruling before 19 14. That promise 
has not been fulfilled, and from 1927-28 there has been a rapid upward 
movement not only in finished goods tariffs but in agricultural duties ; 
no doubt this tariff marathon may be in part a passing phase due to the 
extraordinary rapidity with which prices have fallen, but it has raised one 
problem which may affect future British policy. It now appears as if 
bilateral treaties with the M.F.N, clause were not an adequate method of 
dealing with the tariff situation, and the only obvious alternative is group 
negotiation and group treaties : if groups of nations begin to create 
tariff blocs within which lower duties prevail than those which are 
granted to outsiders, then the whole question of the unconditional inter- 
pretation of the M.F.N, clause would arise. It would hardly seem 
feasible for a European bloc, if it were formed, to allow the clause to 
operate in the case of high tariff nations like the U.S.A. British com- 
mercial policy would have to secure that she was favourably received into 
all groups on similar terms to the constituent members, particularly into 
those which included many countries whose productive resources are 
mainly complementary to her own. Examples beyond the Empire would 
be the Scandinavian countries and the South American markets. 

Looking therefore at British overseas trade from the angle of demand 
and sales, there seems a reasonable probability that its position would be 
relatively improved compared with that of other countries if special 
efforts were made to study and analyse the features of most of the over- 
seas markets, and if the distributive organisation were developed to that 
level at which the British firms were able to keep in much closer touch 
with the sale of their goods overseas. The world is tending for many 
industries to become a ' home ' or ' domestic ' market, and it will have to 
be cultivated, developed, stimulated and studied with the same care and 
by many of the same methods as are applied by firms within their own 
country's frontiers. It need hardly be said that any policy which led to 
general reduction of tariffs to even the level of 19 14 and imparted to them 
some freedom from continual change would assist particularly in the sale 
of British goods. Of the countries which have been most prominent in 
foreign trade development within recent years the U.S.A. is the chief; 
although she has displaced Britain as leading source of supply for many 


markets, a glance at her foreign trade shows that many of her exports 
are not directly competitive with those of Britain : as already mentioned, 
only 37-44 per cent, of her exports come into the finished goods class, and 
among these comes refined petrol as well as the typical American industries 
providing the ' amenities ' of life — motor-cars and accessories, films and 
cinematograph goods, electrical appliances, radio apparatus, typewriters, 
cash registers, office appliances, sewing machines, domestic refrigerators, 
gramophones, new types of agricultural and road-making machinery, 
oil-well plant, and so on. Motor-cars, gramophones and radio sets may 
mean, however, less Irish linen, less Sheffield cutlery and less English 
china and glass. Japan, which has proved so successful a competitor in 
the Far Eastern textile markets, is a country which shows 47-49 per 
cent, of her exports as finished goods, and of this 34 per cent, consists of 
cotton and silk textiles and allied products. It must be recognised that 
an able and industrious population, propinquity to the large Eastern 
markets, and an excellent geographical position between Asia and the 
American market are bound to make her a permanently serious competitor 
in the textile market, to which she has devoted her main efforts. Germany, 
which resembled Britain to a much greater degree in having 70-75 per 
cent, of her exports finished goods, finds markets for over 70 per cent, 
of her exports in Europe itself. Redistribution of markets has always 
been a normal incident in foreign trade history, and Britain's problem 
is to work her way through to a new equilibrium in foreign sales, and also 
to a new distribution of industries, both in the home and overseas markets. 






It is nineteen years since Gisbert Kapp in his address to this Section at 
Birmingham reviewed the position of railway electrification. The par- 
ticulars he gave related mainly to foreign railways, as it was mainly on 
the Continent and in America that main lines had been provided with 
electric locomotives. Few of those who listened to his address would 
have guessed that in 1932 main line electrification in this country would 
have extended as little as it has to-day. And yet the delay has been all 
to the good. Had we hurriedly adopted some system which for the 
moment appeared the most promising, it is probable that the whole of the 
plant would have been old-fashioned to-day, and, in the light of recent 
developments, would have had to be reconstructed. 

Electricity in 19 13 was such a big infant that there were many people 
who laughed at the saying that it was still in its infancy ; and yet, when 
we see the advancements that have been made since then, we are inclined 
to think that the saying was true after all. The largest generators then 
were rated at about 10,000 kw. ; now they are ten times as great. Electric 
traction on main lines had then well begun ; now we find thousands of 
miles of it. In those days electric light and household appliances were 
luxuries for the middle classes ; now they are fast becoming the neces- 
sities of the poor. Wireless telegraphy was the achievement of the 
technician. Now it is the plaything of the schoolboy. Instead of a few 
thousand receivers in the hands of experts, we have millions of sets in 
the homes of the people. 

But what is more remarkable than the total advances made in two 
decades is the speed of advance during the last few years. If we could 
evaluate the importance of discoveries made from day to day, and plot the 
values in a curve with time as abscissa, we should find that this curve 
slopes more and more rapidly upwards, and makes us wonder whether it 
can still go on with increasing steepness. If so, what will it bring us } 


Already electrical appliances have pervaded every field of mechanical 
engineering. The electrical driving of factories has become so general 
as greatly to reduce the smoke and vi^aste of factory chimneys. The very 
heaviest kinds of machinery, such as the rolling-mills for rolling boiler- 
plate and rails, are now driven electrically. Some of the rolls call for 
loads of 10,000 h.p. at times of peak load. In our mines electricity is 
becoming more and more vi^idely used for driving coal-cutters and 
conveyors, as weW as for hauling and winding. In the deposition 
and refinement of metals, electrical processes are all-important. The 
electric furnace is the most perfect one for the treatment of 
metals at high temperatures. The electrical equipment of motor- 
cars has become an important industry in itself, employing millions 
of capital. 

One of the directions in which rapid strides will be made in the near 
future is in connection with electric transmission. Following fast on the 
construction of the national 132,000-volt lines and the Weir Report, 
which showed what economies might be effected by the electrification of 
our railways, comes the wonderful development made possible by the 
grid-controlled mercury-vapour arc. The mercury-vapour arc (which 
for some years has been capable of carrying thousands of amperes) is now 
provided with a grid much in the same way as a trinode valve in a wireless 
set. Make the grid negative and no current will flow either way ; make 
it positive and the arc acts as an ordinary valve. Thus, by connecting 
two grids to an alternating voltage, a pair of valves will deliver alternating 
current from a direct-current source. This makes possible the trans- 
mission of power at a B.C. pressure of 180,000 volts easier than when 
A.C. is used at 130,000 volts. It does away with many difficulties due 
to capacitance and inductance. 

Another application of this device is to change a power supply from one 
frequency to another. It is possible to take power from a single-phase 
trolley line and convert it into three-phase power at any frequency, so 
that three-phase motors can be started at a low frequency and the number 
of cycles per second can be increased as the speed of the train rises. 
Moreover, the voltage can be regulated over a wide range without the 
necessity of transformer taps. There are also great facilities for arresting 
the current on an accidental short circuit. This revolutionises the possi- 
bilities with polyphase traction and gives it some advantages over D.C. 
traction which were quite unexpected a year or two ago. 

But there is yet another surprising improvement in electric traction 
along entirely different lines. The Drumm storage battery employed 
in the Great Southern Railway of Ireland has shown such remarkable 
characteristics as a traction battery that it has revived the hope held by 
many of us that some method of storing electrical energy could be found 
which would make the electric locomotive independent of any connection 
to a trolley. If it be possible to build powerful, efficient electric loco- 
motives independent of any connection to an external system, and capable 
of long journeys without recharging, it is obvious that they would provide 
a more desirable method of electric traction than that generally adopted 
at present for main lines. Battery-fed shunting locomotives are already 


widely used and effect a great saving in time and personnel. It would 
seem that the Drumm battery or some of the other new traction batteries 
may give a sufficiently long range to the pure-electric independent- 
running locomotive. In a country like ours, where we have no very large 
supplies of oil, the pure-electric locomotive is of course to be preferred 
to the Diesel-electric. For we would rather get our power from our own 
coal than from imported oil. It would be worth while for the nation to 
carry out very extensive researches on batteries possessing the required 
characteristics. One can conceive methods of changing batteries so 
rapidly that no excessive weight need be carried, and the speed between 
the stops might be so great that a very satisfactory express service could 
be run. In this connection we must remember the great advantages that 
can be gained by using some kind of adjustable speed-torque conversion 
system between the electric motor and the axles. The performance of 
a locomotive can be enormously improved by the addition of such a 
system of transmission. This is of especial importance in a battery- 
driven locomotive, as it does away with complicated control gear and the 
necessity for high rates of discharge. Two very great advantages would 
result from the adoption of such a locomotive : (i) the change over from 
steam to electricity could be made gradually and without requiring any 
special equipment of the line ; (2) in times of war the railway system 
could be kept running. To make our railways dependent on the con- 
tinuity of overhead lines is to present such a vulnerable feature to the 
enemy as almost to invite war. 

As soon as the characteristics of the battery-driven locomotive are suffi- 
ciently good, see what an opening we have in this country for the battery- 
driven motor-car 1 Instead of thousands of cars burning petrol, costing 
the nation eighteen millions per annum, and polluting the air of our 
towns, we would have cars driven by home-generated electricity. Imagine 
hundreds of battery-charging stations, twenty miles apart along our main 
roads, at which we could in the course of a few seconds drop our partly 
discharged battery and take a new one that would carry us for the next 
three or four stages. The batteries would probably belong to the Central 
Electricity Board, and would afford a very nice load for the early 
hours of the morning. I do not say that we see our way to such 
perfect batteries yet, but they will probably come some day. The best 
figures at present seem to be about 10 watt-hours per pound of 
material, but the theoretically possible figures are much better than 
this. Experiments on very light motors for traction purposes show 
that it is possible to make motors of about half the weight of those 
ordinarily used. 

We live in the hope that with all these developments, and with the con- 
tinual cheapening of the cost of generation, electricity is going still further 
to simplify our factories, lighten the work of the housewife, and make 
our cities clean and healthy. 

So far as the work of the engineer is concerned in the building of super- 
power stations and the equipment of overhead lines and sub-stations, 
everything has been done in a most praiseworthy manner. The increase 
of output of some of the power houses feeding the grid is remarkable. 


In thirty years from 1901 to 1931, the capacity of the stations of the 
Newcastle Electric Supply Company has increased from 3,000 kw. to 
311,000 kw., or more than a hundredfold. 

Power is generated and supplied to the grid at well under one halfpenny 
per unit. In some districts (even rural districts) it is sold to the con- 
sumers at reasonable prices, and the slogan ' Cheap electricity for the 
people ' is well justified. But in other districts the middleman (that 
curse of civilisation) steps in and sells the electricity at ten times the price 
at which it is supplied to the grid. I know a farm where electricity is 
being generated by means of a small plant at a cost of threepence per unit. 
The owner would like to take 20,000 units per annum from the national 
grid at three-halfpence or twopence per unit, and a neighbour is prepared 
to take 50,000 units at a reasonable price ; but the authorised distributors 
only offered to supply him at prices far above that at which he could 
generate himself. If the owner were to put in a Diesel-electric plant for 
himself and his neighbours and offer to light the village at twopence a 
unit, the authorised distributors would prohibit him from poaching on 
their concession, although they will not supply the villagers at less than 
sixpence. Instead of ' Cheap electricity for the farmer ' the cry is ' Keep 
off my profitable concession.' I mention this case to illustrate the differ- 
ence between the work of the engineer and the work of the middleman. 
The engineer tries to generate and supply at the lowest possible price. 
That is his triumph. The middleman tries to sell at the highest price 
he can get. That is his triumph. No wonder we have not enough 
load on the national grid. There are hotels in the heart of the 
system of distribution in Scotland generating their own electricity 
at threepence-halfpenny per unit, and they will continue to do so, 
because they cannot get power from the grid at less than eightpence per 

All through our ' civilisation ' vested interests block the way to im- 
provement. Long after science has shown the way to make things better 
for the people, uninteUigent control and stupid prejudice preserve the 
old evils and refuse to be convinced. 

There are many things to be ashamed of in our great cities. Not the 
least of these is the waste that goes on. There is waste of heat in domestic 
fires, waste of by-products in the consumption of coal, thereby producing 
dirt; waste of fresh air by pollution; waste of sunshine; and, above all, 
the waste of labour that might be applied in stopping all the other desola- 
tion and loss ; waste of money by paying dole while there are obvious 
jobs for everybody. 

If engineers were in control, they would so order matters as to neutralise 
this waste at the source. All soft coal should be treated by a low-tem- 
perature carbonisation process or some similar process so as to extract the 
gas, oil and other by-products from it. People should be prohibited by 
law from burning soft coal, as they are in Paris. They would then be 
compelled to burn carbon in a bright cheerful fire making no smoke, or 
to use gas. Of course it requires labour to do this, but the labour is 
available — -why not use it ? As things are at present in a district like 
Manchester, more than one hundred thousand housewives are making a 



continual fight against dirt. It is a hopeless fight, for every time they 
open a window black specks float in to settle and dirty everything. 
Patients at a nursing home are told that they cannot have the windows 
open because to do so dirties the curtains. The perfectly ineffective and 
hopeless labour of these housewives is ten times as great as the total 
labour required to treat the coal and extract the valuable by-products. 
Even if the carbonisation process carried out on a limited scale did not 
show a profitable return, the objections to it disappear when we contem- 
plate the process carried out on such a scale as completely to rid our 
towns of smoke, and when the by-products are utilised in a national 

The waste heat and power stations might be used in agriculture. A 
power station having an average load of 50,000 kw. will waste more than 
8,000 million British thermal units per day. This is sufficient to warm 
500 acres of greenhouses. Two very important items of cost in the 
forcing of vegetables are — (i) the capital cost of the greenhouses, and 
(2) the cost of heating. The capital cost to a nation possessing sand, lime, 
soda, and a surplus of labour need not be very great. If we can utilise the 
waste heat of power houses to do the warming, we ought to be able to 
save hundreds of thousands per annum, at present sent to foreign countries 
for vegetables and flowers. At the same time we could do away with the 
objectionable discharges from power houses. 

It is not only in connection with engineering and scientific matters that 
the engineer can help to improve the lot of mankind. It is in connection 
with all economic and social matters. There is a certain quality found in 
some men which has been called ' eudemonistic' It is a quality very 
often found in engineers and scientists, so much so that in the original 
draft of this address I said that men who were possessed of this quality 
were ' engineeringly minded.' I am told that this latter phrase is mis- 
leading, because it seems to claim that only engineers have the quality, 
and of course there are many people who are not engineers or scientists 
who are eudemonistic or, as Stuart Chase has phrased it, ' engineeringly 
minded.' A man has this quality when he throws the whole of his energies 
into the carrying out of sound, practical and beneficent projects for the 
sake of those projects themselves, and not primarily from selfish motives 
or in pursuance of some irrational prejudice. But besides the motives, 
the definition involves a certain faith in the obtaining of good by logical 
procedure to that end. This quality of logicality is partly inherited, but 
only brought to full efficiency by being trained and spurred to overcome 
difficulties successfully. The man who gets into the habit of shirking 
problems, the answers to which are not obvious, will never acquire this 

The distinction between the activities of the eudemonistic and the rest 
of mankind can be best seen by taking a few examples of the activities of 
the latter by way of contrast. 

Consider the wasting of the energies of the inhabitants of a town (say 
of 50,000 inhabitants) on the interchange of wealth between individuals 
instead of their utilisation in the making of wealth — the payment of 
doctors by people who are ill instead of by people who are well ; the em- 


ployment of lawyers to transfer real estate when the thing can be done more 
efficiently and more cheaply by registration ; the building of free libraries 
and cinemas when people have not decent houses ; the lending of money 
to states that have recently repudiated their debts. Or consider a Board 
of Education trying to teach boys and girls to spell English ; or the con- 
tinued distribution of dole to the unemployed without asking anything 
in return. The verdict of an intelligent observer of these activities would 
be, ' How can people be so stupid ? ' 

Consider in contrast some eudemonistic activities : the organisation 
of the Boy Scouts ; the provision of technical education ; the generation 
of electric power at a cost of less than one penny for 7 horse-power 
hours ; the manufacture of a yard of cotton fabric containing 15 million 
interweavings of thread for sixpence ; the broadcasting of speech, audible 
in any part of the world ; the manufacture of a machine that will fly from 
America to Great Britain in 15 hours ; the discovery of the internal 
construction of an atom by noting the position of the bands of the 

The verdict of the intelligent observer of these and many other bene- 
ficent activities would be, ' How can men be so wonderful .'' ' 

In this time of world-depression the question not unnaturally arises 
whether the engineer (in which term I will include the scientist for 
brevity) cannot make a useful contribution towards the bettering of condi- 
tions — something more promising than the totally inadequate measures 
already proposed. I have chosen this subject because I believe that the 
application of the engineering mind to our difficulties is much more likely 
to lead to a satisfactory solution than hopeless debates and discussions 
upon side-issues that have little to do with essential factors and problems. 
I propose then to consider shortly — (i) What is wrong with the world ? 
(2) Why are the proposed solutions inadequate ? (3) How could 
engineers make things better ? 

(i) There are so many things wrong with the world that I must 
here confine my remarks to the three main defects, the poverty in 
material possessions, the poverty in outlook, and the incompetence of 
the rulers. 

Notwithstanding the fact that civilisation has been developing and 
extending for centuries and the application of steam power to manufac- 
ture has been in operation for one hundred years, by far the greater 
portion of the inhabitants of Europe and America are very poorly supplied 
with the things that make life full, free, and enjoyable. Indeed, a very 
large number of these inhabitants exist in want and squalor ; and in some 
cases the conditions of life are so insanitary and loathsome that we are 
tempted to ask whether civilisation is not a failure. If we go outside the 
modern states to the teeming millions of China and India we find that 
only a little has been done to improve the lot of the peasant, who still lives 
by bodily toil, and receives no share of that fullness of life which we know 
to be possible when the machine lightens our labour and education opens 
the mind to the beautiful things around us. Even in cases where the 
machine has been introduced, it has often brought about conditions more 
unhealthy than with the original peasant labour. 


This is a very unsatisfactory result in view of the enormous natural 
resources available and the huge possibilities of manufacture and distribu- 
tion of wealth with modern systems of transport. If there had been a 
central organisation looking after the world's welfare for the last fifty 
years, and if it had made as bad a mess of things as we find to-day, it 
would have been condemned as hopelessly inefficient. As a fact, we 
have had no central organisation, but only governments looking after 
the welfare of individual states — an easier task, one might suppose. Yet 
these governments have made this mess of things within their states. 

In spiritual matters the failure has been as complete as with material 
things, but I will leave the consideration of this until later. 

This failure of civilisation to attain its purpose is not surprising when 
we remember that the chief principle in operation has been ' Every man 
for himself and the devil take the hindmost.' This is supposed by some 
economists to be the only principle which will work satisfactorily and 
automatically. It certainly does automatically give the hindmost to the 
devil. There has not been any logical plan in the old states in Europe 
or in America to enable all citizens to create their own wealth and 
enjoy it. The word ' wealth ' is here used in its proper sense to denote 
the material things that contribute to man's well-being. And there 
being no plan, it is not surprising that things have come to their present 

The main business of the world, to-day, is buying and selling. Things 
are manufactured to be sold at a profit. When prices are low, business is 
said to be bad. This shows how inverted is the position under our 
ridiculous system. It ought to be just the other way. Buying and 
selling should be a mere unavoidable incident in the distribution of wealth. 
When prices are low, it should be evidence of economical manufacture 
and distribution, and the standard of life should accordingly be higher. 
The main business of the world should not be to buy and to sell, but to 
make the things that men want and distribute them in the simplest way 
without adding any more to the cost than is absolutely necessary. At 
times when trade is supposed to be good, things are sold at three or four 
times the price paid to the people who make them, and as a consequence 
the people who make them cannot buy them, so there is a slump on the 
market.^ If things were sold at a price which represented the exact cost 
of manufacture and distribution, then all the people concerned in the 
manufacture and distribution would have money enough to buy all the 
things that they have made. They would go on making more and more 
and getting more and more wealthy. Instead of this many are out of work 
because the shopkeepers cannot sell the things that they have in stock. 
They cannot sell them because the people who make them and want 
them have not received enough money to buy them. Many attempts 
are made to justify the prices at which things are sold, but the real reason 
for high prices is that in a so-called civilised country there are only about 
15 per cent, of the inhabitants making a real contribution to wealth : the 
remainder are hangers-on such as landlords, merchants, retailers, servants 

* In my first draft I gave several examples, but they are well known to 

F 2 


of the rich and retainers of all sorts. Then, of course, there are the 
young people who are still being educated and the pensioners. The cost of 
supporting all the extra people must be added to the legitimate cost of 
manufacture and distribution. 

Imagine a state in which the majority of the inhabitants are at work 
using the most efficient machinery. They can supply their material 
wants and the standard of life may be very high. If, on the contrary, only 
15 per cent, of them are doing useful work, then the standard of life is 
necessarily lower. The mere fact that some of the inhabitants are very 
wealthy, and have a large amount of money to invest, does not help very 
much the man who is out of work and has no facilities for making the 
things he wants. It is not a solution to set him to make roads which he 
does not want. Nor is it a solution to make him into a gardener, a butler 
or a footman. The rich man may flatter himself that he is giving work 
to one hundred people. He is possibly doing his best according to his 
lights, but he may be a part of a system which is withdrawing one 
hundred workers from the really useful tasks and thereby impoverishing 
the state. I say ' may be ' because some servants of the well-to-do are 
very useful members of society. The chauffeur who enables a master of 
industry to get about quickly may be doing more useful work than if he 
were employed in the factory. But the greater part of the money spent 
by the well-to-do goes into channels that do not contribute to the welfare 
of the state as a whole. 

For all the inhabitants of a state to be as wealthy as possible two condi- 
tions are necessary : 

(i) Things that contribute to well-being shall be manufactured at the 
greatest speed possible at our present state of knowledge, and with the 
best appliances available. 

(2) The method of distribution shall be so efficient that the people who 
make the things are able to buy the things that are made. Anything that 
interferes with the second condition will prevent the obtaining of the 

Consider the hundred million inhabitants of the United States of 
America. They have at hand all raw materials, all food supplies, capital 
equipment in the way of factories, expert advisers and means of transport. 
What is to prevent every inhabitant from enjoying a very high standard 
of life } What is it that condemns the great majority of them to a very 
poor standard ? It is the system of trading, in which most men are 
traders and only a few are real workers. And why are there so many 
traders ? Because under the present rules it is more profitable to trade 
than to work. Alter the rules so that only the useful workers, useful 
distributors and providers of useful capital share the things that are 
made, and there will be hardly any limit to the material wealth of the 

In the past the engineers have been busy with their own jobs. They 
leave the making of the laws, the controlling of the state and the general 
management of things to the politician and the tub-thumper. This is 
especially so in the U.S.A., but most countries suffer from the absence 
of special intelligence and expert knowledge in the make-up of their 


rulers. A man becomes a town councillor or a member of parliament 
without any proper test of his ability to put two and two together or to 
arrive at a logical conclusion from a given set of premises. No test is 
imposed for the purpose of seeing whether or not he has the ability to 
tackle very difficult problems. The kind of mental training required to 
find the right solution of a difficult economic problem is exactly the same 
as the kind of training required to tackle engineering problems. How 
many members of parliament could solve a simultaneous equation with 
three unknowns ? And yet they are paid ;(^400 per annum to solve 
problems involving many more unknowns. How many of them have the 
most elementary knowledge of the laws they are amending ? When 
they voted for the Law of Property Act, 1925, how many of them under- 
stood it ? How many of them have the most elementary knowledge of 
the scientific facts upon which the manufacture of wealth is based or have 
the organising ability that is necessary to carry through a great project ? 
There are, of course, exceptions, but as a class, apart from lack of educa- 
tion, they have the wrong mentality. 

An example will make my meaning clear. A certain factory receives 
an order to equip an electric railway in Australia. The carrying out of 
the order involves the manufacture of many hundreds of different kinds 
of machines, instruments and apparatus. Each machine and instrument 
consists of many parts made of special materials and manufactured by 
processes requiring expert knowledge. A good deal of abstruse mathe- 
matical calculation is involved in the design. The directions to the shops 
are contained in hundreds of documents and drawings, each compiled 
after intense attention to detail. Thousands of workmen are engaged, 
each directed by these minute instructions, and in a few months the various 
parts take shape. They move along pre-arranged channels until they are 
assembled and the machines and instruments are tested. These are 
shipped to Australia, taken up country, each to its appointed place, to 
power house, sub-station, or locomotive. On a certain day the equipment 
starts up. Thousands of passengers are carried successfully and we have 
this wonderful addition to our civilisation. Now I assert that if the men 
who form an average committee of our House of Commons were in charge 
of that factory, whatever might have been their previous training and 
whatever facilities they might have had to gain experience, they would 
make a dismal failure of the whole thing. The reason would be that they 
are not engineer ingly minded, and that is the reason why they make a 
failure of state management. They can talk but they cannot do things 
successfully. They do not know their job. They have not the minds 
that can think out intricate problems. They have not faith in the obtain- 
ing of good by logical procedure to that end. They are not as a class 

The very parliamentary procedure which they permit to hinder them 
condemns them. Every session for years past there have been desirable 
measures which no one has expected to get through, because, as it was 
said, there was not time. A large business house in its annual conference 
with salesmen assembled from all parts of a continent can get through 
more work and come to more useful decisions in two weeks than are 


reached in a whole session of debate in the House of Commons. If par- 
liamentary procedure were to take a leaf out of the book of one of these 
business houses, it would enable ten times as much useful work to be 
done in a session. Here are a few suggestions. Cut down the number 
of members to a number that can comfortably sit in the House. Give 
each an appointed seat fitted with an automatic recording apparatus to 
show the constituency when its member is at work. Each seat should be 
provided with two press buttons for voting ' Aye ' or ' No ' (also recorded). 
Let all bills be circulated some weeks before being read and all members 
who have anything to say asked to dictate their remarks to a typist or 
otherwise prepare them. These remarks are then to be sent to a staff of 
under-secretaries, who make a synopsis of the whole. When a bill comes 
up for consideration an official reads Clause No. i and says, ' Twenty 
members have said so and so, eleven say so and so. As against this 
fifteen express this view, nine express the opposite view and give the 
following reasons.' In fifteen minutes all members in the House will 
have a better idea of the pros and cons than if they had listened to a debate 
lasting many days. If any member is misrepresented by this synopsis 
he would have an opportunity of amending it, but woe to the member 
who takes up the time of the House by any unnecessary remarks. Having 
fresh in their minds the views of far more members than could possibly 
be heard in a week of debating, the question is then put. Members press 
the buttons and go on to Clause No. 2. Or if a clause has to be amended, 
the amendments can be dealt with in the same business-like manner. 
Such a procedure with suitable extension would enable members to have 
before them, not only the views of the other members, but the views of 
outside experts. The necessity for Royal Commissions would in this 
way be sometimes avoided. 

One of the things wrong with democracy to-day is that its representa- 
tives come to decisions upon matters about which they know very little 
after long desultory discussion. The listeners find these discussions 
very uninformative and their votes as a rule are uninfluenced by anything 
that is said. If these discussions could be replaced by short, clear 
synopses of the pros and cons put forward in an impartial way, law- 
making would be very much more efficient. 

I have made reference to this matter because if ever the world is 
managed at all, it will probably be managed by some sort of committee, 
and no committee can work efficiently until desultory discussions are 
absolutely barred. 

When we understand what is wrong with the world, it is easy to see 
that such solutions as have been proposed are inadequate. Some people 
say war debts are the cause of the trouble. ' Wipe out war debts,' they 
say, ' and things will be better.' At present Germany is a debtor country, 
while the U.S.A. is a creditor country. It is difficult to believe that both 
debt and credit have the same effect in creating unemployment. How 
can the fact that the U.S.A. have money owing to them, giving them 
power to buy even more raw material or manufactured products than they 
have already, be in any way disadvantageous ? The existence of ten 


million unemployed in the U.S.A. is due entirely to internal causes, such 
as I have outlined, and would not be helped in the least by the extinction 
of the war debt. 

Some people blame the gold standard, forgetting that the monetary 
transactions of the world are carried out mainly by cheque, which would 
operate in exactly the same way whatever might be the standard. Banking 
accounts are nothing more than the book-keeping of services rendered, 
and the cheques are given for such services. The gold standard does at 
least help to steady the value of the £, and that must be all to the good in 
commerce. Some complain that there is a scarcity of money and say that 
an inflation would be useful. Whatever may be the temporary eflFect of 
inflation, it is clear that only the world's useful activities can ultimately 
result in greater material wealth. 

Some say that it is the deficiency of trade between states that is at the 
root of the evil. Trade between states is useful in bringing about the 
exchange of commodities, but otherwise it does not contribute to man's 
well-being. It is languishing now because the average standard of life 
of the inhabitants of the world is low. Let the engineer raise that standard 
and world trade will flourish because there will be a greater need for the 
exchange of commodities. 

Given a central authority of sufficient power to preserve peace, general 
disarmament would undoubtedly help matters because it would release 
machinery and personnel to raise still further the standard of life. But 
until we get a powerful and wise central authority, nations will prefer to 
trust to their own strength. A comprehensive world plan under which 
each individual could be provided for independently of the strength of his 
nation would do more than anything else to relieve the tension between 
nations and bring about disarmament. 

I now come to the question, ' How could the engineer make things 
better ? ' 

A committee of engineers given control of the whole world would not 
attempt to tackle the whole problem at once. The world would have to 
wait for the growth of an organisation operating at first over a small area, 
and extending as it gained experience. 

A suitable place to begin might be one of the states of North America, 
already provided with most of its raw material. Or it might be better 
to begin in Europe. France would be suitable as it is already nearly 
self-supporting, but only a small self-supporting part of that country 
would at first come under the scheme. 

An estimate would be made of the standard of life that could be obtained 
by the average inhabitant provided he worked well and was aided by the 
best machinery and organisation. A promise would then be made to 
provide the houses, furniture, clothing, food, fuel, education and enter- 
tainment in exchange for the services of the individual. Payment would 
be made by cheques the nominal values of which would be adjusted on the 
low side so as to allow for accidental losses and defective workmanship. 
Though the state would need a gold backing for these cheques to begin 
with, the real backing of the cheques would be the wealth produced. 


The cheques would be honoured by the production of the goods and not 
by the production of gold. A man working well for a year might earn 
cheques valued at 40,000 francs. Some of these he would exchange for 
food and necessities ; but after each one had done his share of the work, 
he would enter into his inheritance and the cheques would be balanced 
against the things he would receive. 

To get over labour troubles, the arduous duties would be given to all 
the young men and women irrespective of class. The greatest honour 
would go to those who did the most arduous tasks. 

There is a spirit of adventure in youth that makes the taking on of new 
work easy. Anyone who has lived in a mining village knows the eager- 
ness with which a young miner takes up the work to help his father. The 
learning of new processes in our factories by young hands is in most cases 
a matter of a few weeks. Only in some specially skilled trades does it 
take long to become expert. The machine is fast taking the place of the 
expert craftsman. The number of years that young men and women 
would be required for manual work need not be too great in these days 
of machinery, and the number of hours' work per day would be few. A 
very high standard of life can be earned in a few hours of work per day 
when all are useful workers and all operations are carried out in the most 
efficient manner. Think of all the young men and women standing 
behind counters in shops all over the civilised world. Not one-quarter 
of them would be required under a really efficient system of distribution. 
The other three-quarters should be at work a few hours a day, contributing 
their share to the work of the world. Some of the hours not required for 
manual labour would be given to higher education, and it would, of course, 
be possible to give special facilities to the best brains and put them to do 
intellectual work. Physical culture would form a part of the day's 
programme for all young people. 

The present factories need not pass out of the present management. 
That is in most cases very efficient. But the object in view would be to 
produce goods wanted by the people. Many factories at present con- 
centrate more on making a profit than on making commodities that are 
useful to the buyer. Interest would be paid on the capital invested in 
factories and other undertakings. That interest would be paid by 
cheques and the cheques would be honoured by commodities or other 
services rendered. The fundamental idea in the scheme is, of course, that 
all wealth comes from the soil by the application of labour and intelligence, 
and it is possible by good organisation to create and distribute ten times 
as much wealth as is being done at the present time. In a country like 
America, where they have available vast natural resources and manufac- 
turing facilities, the average standard of life should not be less than the 
equivalent of three thousand dollars per annum. This comfortable state 
of affairs does not exist in the United States or in any other states. The 
reason is that no arrangements are made whereby everyone does his share 
of the work ; and even when a man does his share, and more, he very 
often does not get his share of the product. Things will never be better 
as long as they are controlled by people who are not engineeringly minded. 


These people talk about ' over-production,' ' low prices,' ' effect of the 
gold standard,' and other things that are mere incidents. They have 
not enough logicality to see the real cause. 

One cannot in a short address of this kind propound a complete plan 
for the reformation of the world ; but it is easy to see how the methods 
of distributing wealth might be made very much more efficient than they 
are at present. The first step, of course, is that there shall be a definite 
plan with that end in view. Instead of having as many persons as possible 
making profits out of the needs of the people we should have as few as 
possible engaged in distribution, and they should be concerned with the 
problem of how to supply the goods rapidly and efficiently. As things 
are at present, a small town of twenty thousand inhabitants may have as 
many as three hundred shops. None of them will have a really good stock 
to choose from. Two really good departmental stores would be of very 
much more service to the inhabitants, especially if these stores directed 
their energies to efficient methods of supply instead of useless display for 
advertising purposes. At present we have hundreds of men and women 
standing behind counters while customers are making up their minds as 
to what kind of ribbon to buy or how many yards of stuff they will want. 
Buyers should be encouraged and helped to do all this thinking before 
they ask for the goods. A departmental store should have elaborate 
show-cases in which samples of all materials and finished articles can be 
seen and studied independently of the man behind the counter. Rapid 
methods of getting full information about all products are easy to devise 
when we are concerned with only a few comprehensive stores instead of 
with hundreds of shops. Quantities can be weighed and wrapped by 
machinery. Goods can be placed in containers and delivered cheaply 
by express vans when the thing is done on a system. As many as three 
dozen business vans at present visit a small street in the course of a single 
day. Three delivery vans in a day bringing everything for everybody 
should be quite sufficient. 

Starting with a small self-supporting state, it would be possible within 
a few years to demonstrate the high standard of life obtainable by good 
organisation and modern methods. Do some of my hearers say, ' Oh, 
this was tried by Robert Owen years ago, and failed ' ? Men tried to fly 
before the Wright brothers, and failed. Robert Owen was right in some 
of his theories and would have succeeded better if he had had some of 
the advantages we have to-day. To say that we are not to try a properly 
organised system merely because some previous attempts have failed is 
to condemn the world for all time to the muddle in which it now finds 
itself. Having succeeded on a comparatively small scale, the region 
under sane control would be extended until it gradually embraced the 
whole world. The natural resources would be developed and each country 
would supply those commodities for which its climate and natural pro- 
ducts made it most suitable. There should be only one monetary system 
common to the whole world, and one universal language taught in all the 
schools. Nationalism ^eed not die, but there need no longer be a clash 
between nations since the wants of all would be bountifully supplied. 


I know of dozens of young men of ability in this country who have 
nothing useful to do. Many of them are kicking their heels waiting for 
a job. I am sure that they would all volunteer to take up any work that 
might be organised to produce wealth for themselves. I suggest that the 
engineers and economists of this association should urge upon the Govern- 
ment the necessity of organising a wealth-producing community in which 
the voluntary work of thousands of young men might be directed to 
making things for themselves — houses, clothing, fuel, food, and most of 
the things they want. I have elsewhere ^ elaborated a scheme of the kind 
by which we could in a few years completely do away with unemployment 
and at the same time teach the world how things should be done. 

One of the main things wrong with the inhabitants of the world, 
more serious than the inefficiency of their methods of providing them- 
selves with material things, is the poverty of their outlook. The vast 
majority fail completely to look at life from the right point of view. 
They do not see its finest opportunities ; they are almost blind to its 
greatest duties. The intellectual and spiritual sides of their nature are 
undeveloped. This is partly due to the exhaustion of effort in their 
struggle for existence, a struggle which ought to be lightened in the 
way I have indicated. But this is not the only cause of the poverty of 
outlook in the vast majority of mankind. It is in a great measure due 
to the inefficiency of their teachers and especially of their religious 
teachers. I had in the original draft of this address put down some 
remarks on what the engineer and scientist had to say upon religious 
teaching, for if they took a greater share in the management of the 
world, this most important subject should not be left out of account. 
This subject is, however, precluded from the discussions of this Associa- 
tion, so I am reluctantly constrained to strike out what I would like 
to say. 

The education of the young is a duty that must be approached with 
great discretion. 

Each child must be regarded as a reasonable entity looking out upon 
the world with interest and ready to absorb impressions from its surround- 
ings. It is most important that the things that we put before it shall be 
of such a kind that, when the child applies its reason, it shall arrive at a 
correct result ; for it is only in that way that the young mind gains con- 
fidence in its reasoning powers. It is a pity that in this country the first 
efforts in a child's education should be concerned with so unreasonable 
a thing as English spelling. The little mind applies the reasoning powers 
which nature has given it and finds that the answer is wrong. Over and 
over again it tries. Sometimes it is right, mostly it is wrong. Instead 
of the reasoning powers being strengthened they are undermined, and the 
majority of children learn to rely upon their memory or their guessing 
faculties rather than on their reason. 

After twenty years' experience of the students who present themselves 
for evening classes, I assert that not more than one-fifth of the inhabitants 

^ Paper read before the Seacombe Forum, March 1930. 


of this country will follow a simple logical argument, even when it is about 
a subject in which they are interested. The remainder will let their 
minds wander and will take a result on trust without even hoping to under- 
stand it. This I attribute in a great measure to the fact that in their early 
years their reasoning powers, so far from being encouraged, were actually 
wrecked on the snags of unreasonable studies. 

Education should be directed much more than it is at present to the 
making of young people into happy and useful citizens. To this end the 
subject-matter of education should be concerned more with the things 
around us than with the things of the past. History, of course, should 
have a place in education, but it should be valued mainly for its bearing on 
the present. The curricula of schools have been very greatly improved 
during the last few years ; but there still remains a great deal to be done 
before we can say that we take the shortest and most reasonable way to 
learning. When that shortest and most reasonable road has been gained, 
it will be found that boys and girls are carried much further and made 
into much happier and more useful citizens. 

Some of my hearers may wonder why I have not confined my presi- 
dential address to Section G of the British Association to the subject 
matter of Engineering. It is because at this stage of the world's mis- 
fortunes, with output falling and unemployment figures rising, the 
engineer has an important message to give. When he gives it in his 
technical journals it passes unheeded by the world at large. The position 
is analogous to that of a mains engineer, who, working in a roadway, 
sees an omnibus out of control careering down a steep hill. The 
passengers are giving frantic and futile advice to the driver who does not 
understand the mechanism. Shall the engineer go on with his job or 
shall he jump on board and apply his expert knowledge in bringing the 
omnibus under control ? 

You ask for a constructive proposal. It is that the Government should 
found an experimental, voluntary, self-supporting colony under the 
auspices of engineers, scientists and economists. The object in view 
would be to ascertain how far it is possible with our present knowledge 
and the best methods of manufacture and distribution for a group of say 
100,000 persons to maintain themselves and continually to increase their 
wealth when freed from the restraints and social errors of modern civilisa- 
tion. Such an experiment might do more to enlighten the world as to 
the possibility of modern logical methods than an experiment carried out 
on a continent thousands of miles across, where unforeseen difficulties 
might easily defeat the best intentions. If you ask what differences there 
would be in the old world and the new colony from which so much 
is to be hoped, I will in partial answer draw two pictures. One is of a 
feeble man of sixty years working all day in a sewer because it is the only 
occupation he can find to earn his daily bread. Far worse than the 
unpleasantness of the task is the rankling injustice that he should be 
compelled to do this despised job for no more reward than a living wage, 
while others with easier tasks get greater rewards. The other picture is 
that of a young man of twenty-three years, who has chosen the task of 


sewerman in the spirit of those who went to the trenches in 1914. Sir 
Sewerman aided by modern appHances cheerfully puts in his three hours 
of unpleasant work and for the rest of the day disports himself and 
extends his education. 

So with all the work of mankind. It can be done cheerfully when 
justice seasons its incidence. 








I PROPOSE to follow in another line of inquiry the example which has 
been set by our outgoing President. As he addressed us on the general 
theme of Anthropology I shall consider the general subject of Archaeology, 
its place as a science, and the practical policy which we ought to pursue 
in view of its startling and wide development. It is a very happy and 
propitious moment for such a discussion inasmuch as there was never so 
wide and universal an interest in the subject. There is some danger 
indeed that archseology may be killed by kindness and the indiscriminating 
affection of its admirers ; and there is very great danger that archaeologists 
themselves may be more or less gently suffocated by the overwhelming 
mass of accumulating material. We need to devise methods of organi- 
sation, to think out means of collaboration, and to subdivide the field of 
our activities so that they may be all related in a conscious scheme. 

Like anthropology ours is a very young science, and like anthropology 
it has grown at the most astonishing rate. Archasology in the true sense 
is scarcely a hundred years old, for its birth may be placed about the 
middle of the last century, unless we are willing to give a rather artificial 
value to that false dawn which came with the occupation of Egypt by 
Napoleon. I should rather prefer to say that it begins just about 1850. 
Layard was excavating at Nineveh in 1845. Boucher de Perthes pub- 
lished his first work on stone implements in 1841 ; and the entire theory 
was made known in England in 1858, in the same year that Darwin and 
Wallace read ' On the Origin of Species.' Keller's work on lake- 
dwellings appeared in 1854. Lartet and Christy were doing their chief 
work in 1861, and Pigorini from 1862 onwards. Schliemann's excava- 
tions of Troy began in 1870. 

Just as chemistry had its precursor in alchemy, so archaeology had its 
natural forerunner in antiquarianism. The Antiquary was a recognised 
person as early as the sixteenth century, when Thomas Nash in his Pierce 
Penniless speaks of him as an ' honest man ' and says that he has known 
* many wise gentlemen of this mustie vocation.' In those days, as a 
recent President of the Society of Antiquaries has told us, he was chiefly 
busy with the promulgation of written texts, so that the ofiicial antiquary 
of Oxford University was the ' custos archivorum.' In the seventeenth 
century such a promising title as ' British Antiquities Revived ' consisted 
of nothing more important than a mere work of genealogy ; while in the 
eighteenth century the Society of Antiquaries was still principally engrossed 


in philosophical studies. It was, I suppose, the formation of Sir Hans 
Sloane's collection, and the eventual foundation of the British Museum, 
which initiated that study of the material remains of man's history that 
developed into true archseology in England. 

The old-fashioned type of antiquary was, as so often happens, beginning 
to pass out of existence at the moment when his character was immortal- 
ised in fiction. I doubt whether any of the younger generation of our 
own time have ever known a real Jonathan Oldbuck. That whimsical 
and lovable old pedant was a very different being from his modern 
successor, who is generally one of the most sociable of people, and who 
is so sure of the popularity of his subject that he can venture to address 
immense audiences through the machinery of the British Broadcasting 
Corporation. Archeology is no longer regarded as a ' mustie vocation,' 
but is one of the daily interests and recreations of the whole world, learned 
and unlearned. 

It no doubt adds something to the general interest that there is a very 
vague understanding of what archaeology really means. I hope it may 
not seriously impair this interest if I begin by inquiring what we are 
really talking about when we begin to discuss this subject. Definitions 
may spoil our unanimity, but they are necessary for any real agreement. 
The ordinary man if questioned would probably tell us that Archaeology 
is just busy with old things — any old things. Now this is not a bad 
answer, but it is not sufficiently definite. For the essential that really 
differentiates archseology from several more or less cognate sciences is 
that it deals with old things only in so far as they are the product of man's 
hand and brain. 

The works of Nature are not included in this science ; for the study of 
the ancient structure of the world belongs to geology, while the description 
of extinct animals and plants is the province of palaeontology and palaeo- 
botany. Archaeology receives an immense amount of assistance from 
these kindred sciences, but it is wholly distinct from them. 

Inasmuch as it is a study of man and his works, archaeology is very 
closely related to anthropology, and the two subjects have always been 
considered together in this Section of the British Association. What 
then, we may ask, is the precise character of this alliance ? Each deals 
with man and nothing but man, but they deal with man from diiTerent 
points of view, so that the two sciences are supplementary to one another. 
Obviously anthropology is the wider of the two, for it treats not only of 
man's material works but also of his mental, moral and sociological 
development. Anthropology moreover totally disregards date and time, 
it simply studies primitive man wherever and whenever he is found ; and 
primitive man may exist and does exist in the twentieth century a.d. as 
well as in many thousands of years before Christ ; though he has become 
rarer in these later days and is not so widely distributed over the earth. 
Strictly speaking, both civilised and uncivilised man should fall equally 
within the range of anthropology, which claims to be nothing less than 
the study of all mankind in every relation. But the latest and more 
complex developments of civilisation which are manifest in our own day 
have been appropriated by younger and more specialised sciences such 


as sociology and psychology, so that except for an almost academic dis- 
tinction it may be said that anthropology confines itself to primitive 
man. It has two distinct branches — the one which examines man simply 
as an animal, the other which studies him as a rational animal. With 
the first of these, termed physical anthropology, which is really a branch 
of zoology, our science has very little to do. It may accept and use its 
results occasionally as a background, but with the same detachment that 
it shows towards zoology or geology. For the interest of archaeology 
is solely in those works which can only be produced by man when he 
has become more or less sapiens. Even ethnology, which is physical 
anthropology as applied to the developed races of man, has only a very 
slight and limited usefulness for the archaeologist. 

From those branches of anthropology, on the other hand, which reveal 
man in his religious, sociological and cultural relations, and those which 
study his arts and crafts, archaeology derives the whole of its theoretical 
structure. How intimately the two subjects are related is shown by such 
a book as SoUas's Ancient Hunters, in which, if it were not for the headings 
of the chapters, the reader could hardly tell at any given moment whether 
it is an ancient or a modern people that is being described. Without 
anthropology, in fact, archaeology would be blind of one eye and very 
short-sighted of the other. For the only possible subject of archaeology 
is the material output of man, the visible products of his hands, whether 
these are shown in agriculture, building and other modifications of the 
surrounding world, or in those manufactures, arts and crafts by which 
man improves the conditions and amenities of his material existence. 
What man has been thinking or feeling, or just why he did any of the 
things that we find him doing, archzeology can never directly ascertain. 
What it discovers is merely the bare fact ; it can never divine the essence 
of the fact, that which gives it all its meaning and its interest. For the 
whole interpretation of the inner meaning and rationale of man's life we 
are necessarily dependent either on anthropology or on history — that is 
to say, on records and observations of the thought, habits and behaviour 
of men who could be actually studied as living and thinking beings. 
Without the aid of these records archzeology would indeed be a musty 
science ; but when it employs them it is able inferentially and by analogy 
to construct the whole of man's story from his earliest beginnings to the 
present day. And this reconstruction is not only a book, it is an illustrated 
picture-book, richer than mere anthropology and richer than mere history. 

Of the two auxiliary sciences, anthropology and history, the former is 
generally more useful to us, just because it deals with the primitive, and 
ancient man is necessarily more or less primitive. Documentary history 
is very limited in its range ; it gives only a few glimpses of the life of 
ancient times, and covers only a very small section of the immense period 
over which archaeology must range. Occasionally, however, it throws 
a vivid searchlight on times which are especially interesting to us as 
being comparatively near our own, and usefully supplements our anthro- 
pological knowledge by information as to what civilised people, as distinct 
from savages, thought, felt, and said. Its principal and indispensable 
function, however, is that of providing a time-scale, which cannot be 


obtained from any other source, even though its time-scale only covers 
a few thousand years. A fevs^ thousand years is only a small fraction 
of the time which is included in archasology. The material of this science 
goes back to the Tertiary period in geology, innumerable thousands of 
years before the first beginnings of writing or the first whisperings of 
tradition. It begins even earlier than zoological anthropology, for in 
the Chellean, not to speak of pre-Chellean, flints we have records of man's 
handiwork which antedate any actually known remains of man himself. 
For these immeasurably remote periods a very rough and inaccurate 
time-scale, which is, however, steadily being improved, has been pro- 
vided by geology. It is not until about 3,500 years before Christ that 
this clumsy instrument can be replaced by a much finer one derived 
from inscriptions and documentary evidence. Then comes a stage of 
overlap when the interaction of historical tradition and archaeological 
study is extraordinarily fertile. At this stage we are able to build on 
our most solid foundations, when archaeology synchronises with written 
records or with the epics, sagas and genealogies which precede them. 
This, if we care to make this distinction, is the period of proto-history 
as distinct from pre-history. It is the time which is most familiar to 
the general public, and naturally the most attractive. For it illustrates 
the dawn of all those great civilisations, oriental and classical, which enter 
into the intellectual life and interests of all cultivated people. Egypt, 
Elam and Sumeria, the Crete of Minos, and the Troy and Mycenag of 
Homer are some of the subjects of this period. 

But archjEology does not end where history begins ; it does not even 
end when written histories are numerous and fully documented. All 
through the classical periods of Greece and Rome, and all through the 
Middle Ages, history needs and receives the greatest assistance from 
archaeology. Down to at least a.d. iooo archaeology is needed as much 
as documentary evidence for reconstructing the life of any people. It is 
not until written records of every kind are so minute in character and so 
abundant in quantity as to cover almost the whole field of life that archae- 
ology becomes superfluous. Then gradually it gives way, but does not 
wholly cease to exist until all ' old things ' have been replaced by new and 
modern things, which is almost the time of our own generation. 

The ordinary man is rather apt to suppose that history is infallible and 
archaeology is a study in which individual fancy may have free play. It is 
therefore well worth while to spend a few minutes in considering the 
relative trustworthiness of history and archeology. The modern 
historian has recently ceased to be contemptuous of archaeological data, 
and some of the latest histories show a remarkably able handling of what 
I may call ' dumb documents.' Indeed, the methods of history and of 
archaeology are analogous to one another, only the historian's documents 
are loquacious, whereas ours are tongue-tied. This does not mean, 
hov/ever, that the historian's material is intrinsically superior to the 
archaeologist's ; verbosity is a different thing from veracity. Wholly 
apart from the essential impossibility, long ago remarked by Sir Walter 
Raleigh, of obtaining consistent accounts of the same occurrence even from 
two independent eye-witnesses, a great deal of documentary evidence is 


vitiated from the outset by its propagandist bias or basis. Personal 
vanity, envy, hatred, and maUce, the desire to please great persons, the 
fear of offending dangerous powers — these and a thousand other motives 
enter in to deform the truth. Just as only a childish intelligence supposes 
that what is printed has any value merely because it is printed, so only a 
very purblind historian can maintain that a document has any scientific 
value merely because it is written. And if anyone feels disposed to 
challenge this statement, I will only ask him to remember his experiences 
between 1914 and 1919 if he took any part in the Great War. Without 
troubling about the deliberate and obvious propaganda, intended to deceive 
ourselves or the enemy for some immediate purpose, let him reflect on 
the character of the ordinary current documents whether of civilian or 
of military origin. Would he consider that they were scientifically 
accurate ? A slight but amusing illustration of my point may be drawn 
from the ration strength of a battalion. Of course everyone, from the 
commanding officer to the youngest private, was closely and personally 
interested in overestimating the figure so as to deceive, with the most 
laudable object of self-preservation, the officers who provided supplies. 
And yet a very eminent historian once indignantly asked if I would not 
unquestioningly accept the stated ration strength of a force, if a Latin 
author had been so thoughtful as to record it. 

Now contrast with the lying or tendencious documents issued in 
this and in much more serious cases by battalions and brigades the com- 
plete objectivity of my ' dumb documents,' for instance the cap badges 
and regimental insignia found on the field of battle. These are perfectly 
trustworthy evidence, equally useful to an intelligence officer during 
the war or to an archaeologist years after. 

Passing from this recent material to that which has survived from 
ancient days, is it not evident that even the strongest motives of family 
pride can never induce a pre-Chellean flint to falsify its genealogy ? 
Again, the Hermes of Praxiteles will never open his mouth to tell us 
whether he is an original or a Roman copy. In brief, to leave a subject 
which it is tempting to expand at greater length, archaeology is not pre- 
cluded by its material from being just as scientific as history. Neither 
the one nor the other can claim to be rigorously exact, each is in much 
the same degree liable to misinterpret its data ; but I claim that at least 
the data of archaeology have never been falsified from the start. The 
historian has perhaps one advantage, in having at his command certain 
fundamental documents which are supposed to be unimpeachable, such 
as charters, treaties, statutes, and — in very late times — textual reports 
of trials and speeches. Even these, however, find a fairly close analogy 
in the stratified deposits which the geologist guarantees to archaeology 
and in the intact tombs which contain inscribed objects. 

It must not, of course, be supposed that there is any disparagement to 
history in the emphasis which I have laid upon its subjective character. 
The ideals of history are far greater than its mere skeletal form, the bare 
record of events and dates, though it is principally this skeletal form 
which is valuable to archaeology. The position of history is unique ; 
it appears to oscillate between science and art, but at its best and truest 


it must surely be art. Herodotus writes an epic, and Thucydides com- 
poses a tragedy ; Gibbon displays a pageant, and Macaulay delivers an 
oration. We value them not for their scientific accuracy, which may or 
may not be unimpeachable, but for the beauty and philosophic truth 
of their artistic production. 

Having now to some extent defined the place of archaeology as a science, 
I will speak of the organisation of its material. 

The organisation of archieology may be treated under three headings. 
First there is the collection of the material in the field and the recording 
of it. Secondly there is the housing, conservation and exhibition of 
this material in museums. Thirdly there is the comparative study of 
all such material, and the digesting and dissemination of the results in 
books of synthesis and popularisation. Each of these activities demands 
separate consideration. 

The collection of material in the first instance is due to the work of 
the explorer. He may either travel through a country observing its visible 
features and monuments, or he may seek to discover new material by 
excavating what has been hidden underground, either deliberately in 
tombs and treasuries or accidentally by the accumulation of sand and 
soil over the deserted ruins of ancient buildings. At the present moment 
our chief attention is centred on excavation and our most sensational results 
are being obtained thereby. Recent excavations in Egypt, Mesopotamia, 
Greece and India are of vivid interest to every cultivated person. 
Now as one who excavated himself for a good many years and has had 
constant opportunities of studying all aspects of the excavator's problems, 
I have been able to form some very clear ideas as to the policy and general 
necessities of science in this regard. First there are one or two elementary 
axioms, which were once generally ignored, but are now so universally 
recognised that they need only be mentioned and emphasised as axioms. 
The most important of these is that no person who is not qualified by 
special knowledge and study should ever be allowed to excavate at all. 
And since individuals are not impartial judges of their own capacity, this 
comes to mean that no one must excavate unless he is endorsed by a 
scientific institution or at least by a committee of scientific men. This 
necessity is explicitly recognised almost everywhere, though I can remember 
some flagrant instances of the violation of the rule even in these last few 
years. It is a rule, however, which can admit of no exceptions. The 
days are long past when the looting of sites for the amusement or personal 
profit of a private individual could be tolerated, and no government 
with any pretensions to enlightenment will ever again allow it. But 
various countries which have only recently arrived at autonomy may 
need warning in this respect, and it would be well that public opinion 
should be fully alive to the danger. Powerful interests, both individual and 
political, are often enrolled against our science, and we may sometimes 
regret that there is no scientific League of Nations to which we might appeal. 

If the right to excavate is only granted by the licence of government to 
a properly qualified individual, it ought to follow as a corollary that 
digging for antiquities even by the owner of an estate should be forbidden. 
Such a restriction would reduce the trade in antiquities, which is a survival of 


barbarism and utterly to be condemned, to a minimum. This is the true 
ideal, but in practice it proves impossible to execute ; science retires baffled 
before the conspiring avarice of the land-owner and the collector. Never- 
theless a vigilant and determined government can do much to mitigate this 
evil, and it is to be noted that both Italy and Greece have been remarkably 
successful in their systems of close supervision and control of export. 

A very intelligent and practical policy was long ago adopted by the 
Egyptian Department of Antiquities, which goes far to satisfy the smaller 
buyer though it cannot cope with the bigger gangster. The Cairo 
Museum maintains an official sale-room in which duplicates and objects 
of small value are sold to the tourist. These are officially guaranteed to 
be genuine, which is incidentally no small advantage in a country where 
forgeries are so frequent and sometimes so clever as to deceive even an 
expert. It would be very useful if this system were extended and adopted 
also in other lands. Even objects of real value might be placed in the 
sale-room when they are already abundant in the national collections. 
There are several European countries in which the store-rooms of the 
great museums are crowded with thousands of duplicates, that can never 
be exhibited or used and are practically waste material. If these were sold 
the result would produce large sums which could be used in financing 
new excavations ; knowledge would be usefully disseminated, and the 
destructiveness of private dealing might be a little restrained. 

Now let us consider what happens and what ought to happen when 
a museum, a university, or a scientific body of any kind sends out its 
duly qualified explorer. Both this explorer and his employers have 
certain perfectly clear duties to discharge, and I suggest that on one side 
these are not sufficiently recognised. It is the explorer's business not 
only to furnish his home museum with collections of valuable specimens, 
but also to make the most complete study of all the conditions under which 
they are found and to publish this study in the fullest possible form. But 
here he is very often fettered by the unthinking or deliberately selfish 
egotism of his employers. A great deal of pressure is often brought to 
bear on the explorer to make him not only excavate the most lucrative 
sites, which may be quite legitimate, but neglect the less attractive and 
remunerative parts of his concession. This is so notorious that I need 
not quote instances. I prefer rather to recall the admirable public spirit 
shown by a great American institution, which ungrudgingly and uncom- 
plainingly supported its representative through several years of expensive 
and quite unremunerative trenching which he judged to be necessary. 
And it is pleasant to relate that this generosity was rewarded by the 
eventual discovery of prizes which excelled their wildest dreams. 

If it is the explorer's duty fully to study and record whatever he finds, 
it is a duty which is never neglected in these enlightened days by any 
scientist at all worthy of the name. But it is not quite so invariably 
a part of his creed that the privilege of exploration carries with it the 
implied promise to publish, and to publish quickly and fully. The 
record of British archaeologists is very honourable in this respect, and there 
is hardly any important field work that has not been published or is not 
in process of publication. A great deal of credit for this happy state of 


things must be given to the doyen of British excavators, Sir FHnders Petrie, 
who has never failed, in spite of every obstacle, to furnish a published 
account of his field work within the shortest possible time of its completion. 
This example and the growing pressure of public opinion have been very 
effective in Great Britain, but several continental countries have fallen 
far short of our standard. It is sometimes the fault of the individual, 
sometimes of the institution. There are some men who direct workmen 
admirably, but seem to be seized with paralysis at any mention of publica- 
tion. And there are many institutions which make no provision and take 
no thought for the publication of their material, once it has been safely 
hoarded in their exhibition rooms. Now let me be perfectly outspoken 
on this matter. That explorations should be made and left unpublished 
is a disaster, and if the explorer or his employers are responsible for this 
failure it is a crime. Nothing can take the place of publication. Notes, 
drawings, photographs and plans, however elaborate and careful, are of 
very limited usefulness except to the man who made them and who can alone 
interpret them. It is an error even to suppose that a literary executor can 
take over the material and produce a satisfactory result. If an archaeologist 
does not bring out his material, or at least fully prepare it for publication, 
in his own lifetime, a great part of it is irretrievably lost to the world. 

This being the case, the institution which obtains a site for excavation 
ought to guarantee the expenses of a reasonable publication and ought to 
bind its excavator by contract to publish. I may quote as an example my 
personal experience with an institution which appreciated its duties fully 
and exactly. In January of 1907 I accepted a contract with the University 
of Pennsylvania to conduct excavations in Egypt and the Northern Sudan. 
The term was fixed at five years, and the University stipulated that before 
the lapse of these five years I should have prepared for publication a full 
report of all the results. In accepting this provision I stipulated on my 
side that the University should publish every word that I might write 
and every illustration that I might deem necessary. No obstacles were 
allowed to stand in the way, and the contract was precisely fulfilled on 
both sides. I consider that such an undertaking ought to be given by 
every institution that sends its man into the field, and that this should be 
so fully recognised that the excavator need not even have to propose it. 

There is still one more consideration in regard to the exploration of 
sites which is very little appreciated. The wisdom of one generation, 
even if it be our own, is inadequate to foresee all possible problems. 
Therefore, whenever the circumstances allow, a portion of every site 
should be left unexplored and reserved for future study. The advantages 
of this are manifest ; let me quote only two examples. The results 
obtained at Pompeii within the last ten years have been so revolutionary 
that they have put all the old standard books out of date. If this city had 
been cleared at one sweep when first discovered all this knowledge would 
have been lost, owing to the imperfections of the methods then in use. 
The proper technique has only gradually been evolved. On the other 
hand, the frantic rush to explore all lake-dwellings in the third quarter of 
the last century barely left Vouga enough material for the studies which 
he has just completed. Had they been all destroyed by the first excavators 


the mistaken opinions launched seventy years ago would have been 
stereotyped for ever. 

In some countries where the government is very weak it is unavoidable 
that cemeteries should be completely cleared before they are abandoned, 
otherwise the natives descend like vultures and sack whatever the archaeo- 
logist has left. But in places where the police control can be more effective 
a portion of a cemetery might sometimes be left ; and certainly a town, 
palace, fort, or other site which does not contain remarkable treasures, 
could be protected for a second generation to study. The new generation 
will have new points of view and problems to solve which the earlier 
explorers never suspected. 

The second aspect of an archaeologist's activities is museum work. 
Sometimes the same man who has formed a collection in the field will 
be placed in charge of it in a museum. This is a very happy arrangement 
and ensures that the most minute and intelligent attention will be given 
to everything that has been found. More often, however, the museum 
curator is a person who stays at home, and acts as the recipient and 
custodian of the collections that are brought to him. 

How he treats these collections must be to a great extent determined 
by the circumstances and the accommodation at his disposal. Our greatest 
museums in England and on the Continent are in many instances so over- 
crowded, and so hampered by an excess of concentrated material, that it 
is useless to lay down ideal rules for them. The only hope for a really 
rational treatment of them is that they should be broken up into a number 
of smaller units ; this may for the moment be impracticable, but should 
certainly be borne in mind as the ideal at which any really systematic 
policy would aim. 

In countries like Italy, with its traditional liberality towards science 
and art, or America, which starts in at a later stage with great resources 
and no hampering accumulation from past years, a genuinely systematic 
arrangement is possible. From the point of view of an excavator many 
of the Italian museums are ideally arranged. The results of any given 
excavation are kept together in a single room , and each tomb and deposit 
is placed in a separate division of a case, carefully marked off from its 
neighbours. The effect of this is that a student can go into the museum 
at Florence or Bologna with the excavator's report in his hand, and study 
every paragraph with the objects in front of him. Even when the objects 
have been incompletely published I have been able to make a fairly 
systematic record of them from the mere contents of the cases thirty 
years after the work had been done. In the Egyptian department of 
the Metropolitan Museum at New York the deposits are not so rigidly 
kept in series — which is, indeed, difficult unless the available space is almost 
unlimited — but the same ideal has been borne in mind. The exhibition, 
therefore, can be used as an illustration of the actual excavation. More- 
over, New York has gone far beyond any other institution in popularising 
its exhibition. Photographs illustrating the stages of the excavation, 
abundant and detached labels and descriptions of the objects, and resumes 
of periods and styles of work make the collection an illustrated picture- 
book which has an immediate appeal for the public. 


Many of our own museums might follow this example with advantage. 
A recent Government Commission, as you are aware, has published its 
reports on the museums in England. Amongst other things it remarks 
on the discouraging truth that the public does not seem to want museums. 
The same might be said of many places on the Continent. Now as 
conditions are at present, I must confess to having a good deal of sneaking 
sympathy with the public. If a few institutions, like the British Museum 
and South Kensington, as well as a small number of enlightened provincial 
museums up and down the country, have published admirable hand- 
books, instituted popular lectures, and encouraged popular demonstrations 
by expert guides, yet these are only a very small minority. Whether in 
Great Britain or on the Continent the visitor to a museum, other than 
a gallery of pictures or sculpture, is merely left to drown in an uncharted 
sea of unintelligible cases. We can scarcely blame him if he objects to 
being drowned and rushes out into the fresh air. It is not the public 
but the management of the museum which is to blame. In America it 
would be quite untrue to say that the public does not want museums. 
On any holiday the Metropolitan in New York is crowded to overflowing 
by thousands of people, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, who 
show the most intelligent interest. 

In order to popularise museums, however, a totally false start has been 
made in many places. With the mistaken idea that the ordinary man 
can appreciate art but cannot appreciate science, a number of institutions 
have been founded which are called Museums of Art and Science. The 
title might be allowed if it did not dictate the policy. But the policy has 
generally been to subordinate science, and presently almost to thrust it 
out of doors. The local magnate who has bought a few pictures for his 
own home, together with copies of the Apollo Belvedere and similar works 
which are supposed to be above criticism, declares to the committee of 
which he is chairman that the museum must not be filled up with old 
stones and pots and pans. And in the hope, very often unrealised, of 
a substantial legacy the committee obsequiously follows his lead. And 
very probably the director of the museum, who has been chosen for his 
talent as an art connoisseur, is very content with the policy of his com- 
mittee. Now as far as the general public is concerned this is a sheer error 
of psychology. The ordinary man has no training and little aptitude for 
fine art, but he can understand workmanship, and he is interested in the 
things which come near either to his daily life, or to a life that he might 
have led some centuries ago. A well- illustrated and well-explained 
collection of ethnographical or archaeological objects makes a definite 
appeal to him, and he responds wonderfully to the romance of ancient 
history or of primitive life. 

This supposed union of science and art is simply hypocritical, and when 
science has insinuated itself into a collection under the disguise of art it 
is high time that the disguise should be thrown off. A scientific collection 
is not made for aesthetic purposes ; it need not be ugly, and if capably 
handled it will not be ugly, but its primary purpose is not aesthetic. The 
attempt to asstheticise an archaeological collection is constantly being 
made, and always results in much damage to scientific interests and very 


little satisfaction to the aesthete. Let us be perfectly clear-sighted and 
frank about it. In itself archaeology has nothing to do with art — at most 
it chronicles the history of art ; which is a very different thing, as every 
artist knows, from genuine aesthetic appreciation. The art-critics are 
perfectly justified in protesting, as they constantly protest, against the 
confusion of art-history with art-criticism. The individual archaeologist 
may by the grace of heaven chance to be endowed, as a very few men are, 
with the real gift of aesthetic appreciation. But it is not directly evoked 
by his work, and there will be little opportunity as a rule for exercising it 
in the course of his work. The immense majority of the objects with 
which he deals have very slight aesthetic worth ; in so far as a man is 
purely archaeologist aesthetic values do not exist for him. The archaeo- 
logist works like a naturalist — it is his business to trace evolution, patterns, 
migration, and development ; and when he is tempted to discourse on 
aesthetic values his opinions are very seldom worth hearing. Except in 
very rare instances, therefore, the products of excavation and exploration 
should be treated as natural history collections, and not as more or less 
unsuccessful efforts at pure art. And we must remember that archaeology 
has now happily become a popular subject. The man in the street is 
greatly interested in it. He delights in the pictures and the brief accounts 
which are published in the Illustrated London News ; he rushes to the 
exhibitions of antiquities excavated at Ur of the Chaldees, or in Egypt, 
or anywhere else. The reporters of the most up-to-date American news- 
papers will assure you that archaeology is ' front-page news,' and it is 
printed with two-inch headlines in columns next to the exploits of the 
gangster and the gunman. This is fame — let us take advantage of it. 
It would be exceedingly foolish not to welcome this popularity and 
cultivate it by every possible means. Here is a study which does no harm 
to anyone, which any intelligent being can share, and which can add 
immensely to the amenity and happiness of the ordinary man's life. 

I have now dealt with two aspects of an archaeologist's work, the 
collection of material and the exhibition of it in museums. The third is 
the dissemination of knowledge by means of books. Some of these books 
must necessarily be technical ; others should be addressed less to 
specialists than to a cultivated public ; and a third class ought to be 
directly and deliberately popular in their aim. 

First of all, the original scientific accounts of excavations can hardly 
be popular works, and need not be. They are written for the professional 
and make very dry reading. They are not essentially literary in form, 
and if a writer inserts some chapters of literary character these are only 
an added grace ; they are not essential at this first stage, but belong rather 
to the second. Lists, plans, schedules, catalogues and indexes are the 
fabric of which the excavator's reports ought to be composed. Their 
aim is to give a precise account of every feature of the exploration, and 
not until this has been done is there any occasion for general theories or 
estimates of the historical bearing of the discoveries. Books of this stage 
need be no more than mere chronicles ; it is probably best that they 
should not attempt to be more. An excavator need not be a literary man. 
If he has literary gifts he will have ample opportunity for using them in 


books of what I would call the second stage in the dissemination of 
archasological knowledge. 

For if it is the absolute duty of the excavator to produce a perfectly dry, 
passionless record of his work for the sake of his professional brethren, 
this is only the first stage in the process of bringing knowledge into general 
currency. When the seed has been thus gathered and sown it has to be 
watered and cultivated. This is a task which may be undertaken by 
the original explorer or by others. Unquestionably the best results are 
obtained when the explorer himself, if he has any literary ability, under- 
takes the popularisation and exploitation of his own field work. No one 
else can so exactly estimate the finer values and all the different aspects 
of the discoveries which he has made. Indeed, any outside person will 
inevitably miss a great deal, and will probably view many details in a false 
perspective. Many of our best archaeologists have achieved as much 
success in semi-popular writing as in exploration ; I need only mention 
Sir Aurel Stein as a conspicuous example. 

I wish strongly to emphasise that such semi-popular works are a 
necessity if we are to have a wholesome circulation of general archaeo- 
logical knowledge. The multiplication of material has become so great 
that it is no longer possible for even the hardest working professional to 
master everything that is published in its primary form. It is doubly 
impossible if he is simultaneously doing any original work of his own. 
And yet, if he is to be anything better than a narrow specialist, he ought 
to know at least the outlines of what is being done for every period in 
every part of the world. Narrow specialisation is naturally and properly 
abhorrent to the British mind ; but it is not merely ungracious and 
undesirable in itself, it is positively damaging to the efficacy of an archaeo- 
logist's own work. If he is shut up in a small compartment he becomes 
not merely a duller person, but a less efficient worker even in his own 
limited field. Cross-fertilisation and the production of new hybrids are 
indispensable conditions of a wholesome intellectual life. 

In the chain which forms our organised knowledge of archaeology I have 
spoken in order of the explorer, the museum worker, the author of tech- 
nical books on exploration, and the author of semi-popular expositions 
of these technical books. All these aspects may be combined in one person, 
though generally the museum curator and the explorer will be distinct. 

Separate from these, and with an extremely important function to 
fulfil in our Platonic state, is the writer of general synthetic works. He 
will probably be the occupant of some professorial chair, or a museum 
curator holding a post which allows sufficient leisure for writing, or 
occasionally an unofficial author who works in his own library and on his 
own resources. It is writers of this class who have manufactured our 
fine fabrics out of the raw material. It is they who have constructed 
those far-reaching syntheses which have made archaeology a coherent 
science instead of a group of isolated and disparate phenomena. It would 
be invidious to enumerate the names of a long list of writers which begins 
with the great pioneers of the last generation. Sir Edward Tylor, Sir John 
Evans, Lord Avebury, and culminates in a perfect galaxy in our own 
generation. As I compare the archaeology of even forty years ago with 


that of our own time, the new thing that is so striking is its sudden co- 
ordination. Even in the last years of the past century we were working 
departmentally. Magnificent explorations were being made, but they 
were in separate and apparently disconnected regions. Here and there 
an audacious prophet might hint at a trade route or a far-reaching con- 
nection, but the material was as yet insufficient to prove it. 

Now suddenly the ancient world appears as a connected whole^ — it is 
a change like the shrinkage of the habitable globe due to steamship, 
railway, and aeroplane. We propose to connect Europe and the Mediter- 
ranean with the uttermost parts of Africa ; we speak freely of intercourse 
between the Sahara and the Russian steppes ; we do not hesitate to 
associate Mesopotamia not merely with Egypt but with India, and even 
perhaps with China. And within a less wide area countless links have 
been forged which unite one country with another, until the continents of 
Europe and Asia seem to be furrowed by numerous trade routes from the 
earliest times, and the Mediterranean is partitioned into well-defined 
spheres of commerce and empire. 

Time has shrunk no less than space. Sir Arthur Keith, Prof. Elliot 
Smith and others have made fossil man a familiar pet, almost as close to 
us as the animals in the Zoo or Felix the cat. As for the Bronze Age, 
we move in it with as much security as the historian moves in the reign 
of Queen Elizabeth. 

Now in constructing this type of synthesis the general writer is often 
carried far beyond the possibilities of strictly logical proof. This does 
not mean that his methods are to be condemned. I fully realise the 
wisdom of a colleague who said to me many years ago, when we were 
discussing first principles on the banks of the Nile, ' You must not break 
archaeology on the syllogism.' It would be pedantry to ignore how much 
we owe to the poetic and far-seeing imagination of many a great archaeo- 
logist, from Schliemann down to several of our own contemporaries. 
The picturesque prophecy of to-day may well be the scientific fact of 
to-morrow. So long as the author keeps his fancies and his facts distinct, 
he can remain perfectly scientific. But it is his duty to show clearly the 
grounds of his reasoning ; and this leads me to consider somewhat 
tentatively what are the types of logical reasoning which may be regarded 
as conditionally or unconditionally valid. 

From such a vast and intricate subject I will select for discussion only 
two of the principal problems of archaeology — namely, the application of 
a time-scale and the proof of the dissemination of a culture. First, then, 
as to the time-scale. A philosopher may attach little value to the mere 
arithmetical count of years, and a student will often work more freely if 
he thinks in culture periods rather than in centuries. But there is no doubt 
that the ordinary man demands not only ' facts,' but ' figures,' and it is 
a great temptation to supply the figures at any cost. A series of culture 
periods has been well established, so that there is a reliable system of 
what is called ' relative chronology ' from the earliest Stone Age down to 
the time of full documentary history. But it is a very different matter 
when we attempt to translate these culture periods into centuries and 
thousands of years. The estimates given by various geologists and 


palaeontologists for everything behind the last stages of the Ice Age are 
immensely divergent from one another. I should not venture — it would 
be quite beyond my capacity — to criticise or discuss them. But when the 
stage of universal hunting has passed, and mankind has settled down to 
an agricultural and pastoral existence ; when the outlines of sea and land 
have become fixed in approximately the same forms which we know to-day, 
then we feel that pre-history is only a slight extension backward of what 
is generally recognised as simple history. It is a sketch of the early chapters 
in the story of empires, nations, and peoples, of whom several are known 
to us in written history or tradition. We naturally desire to know in 
terms of years and generations how far back we can trace the doings of 
the men who are our own ancestors or collateral forbears. Now here 
we must be clear-sighted enough to accept our inevitable limitations and 
avoid all sophistries and all claims, however specious, to know the un- 
knowable. We are wholly dependent for our absolute chronology upon 
the dates recorded or obtained by immediate inference from ancient 
writings or traditions. The fragmentary relics of Mesopotamian and 
Egyptian official chronology furnish a time-scale, liable, as you know, to 
much uncertainty in minor details, but trustworthy in all its main lines. 
Whenever this time-scale can be applied, it is possible within quite narrow 
limits of variation to give precise figures as well as facts. Thus we can 
give a dating in years to all the products of Egyptian civilisation back to 
the beginning of the First Dynasty. And by direct inference we can apply 
this scale to many other parts of Europe an-d Asia, as Sir Arthur Evans 
has so successfully applied it to the dating of Cretan civilisation. Indeed, 
as archaeological discovery proceeds in the coming years we may reasonably 
hope to arrive at a completely graduated scale of chronological dating in 
actual years for every part of the ancient world after 3500 B.C. But if 
it is asked what means we have for establishing a chronological as well 
as a typological scheme behind 3500 or possibly 4000 B.C., I answer 
unhesitatingly that we have none, and that unless earlier written records 
or traditions come to light it is probable that we shall never have any. 

One very crude method of attempting to avoid this impasse is so 
illogical that I need spend little time in discussing it. Below the strata 
in which definitely dateable objects are found — whether at Knossos, 
Ur, Susa,Mohendjidaro or any other very ancient site — there are generally 
strata of a certain thickness in which other and obviously earlier forms 
occur. Now it is sometimes suggested, even by skilled explorers in their 
less discreet moments, that the mere thickness of these undated layers 
may give an indication of the length of time which it took to form them. 
And yet a very shght amount of reflection, not to speak of actual experience 
in the field, will show that this reasoning is as childish as it is simple. 
I have myself seen in Egypt deposits many feet deep which can neverthe- 
less be proved by well-dated objects at the top and bottom to have been 
formed within a single century ; and I have also seen a concentrated 
stratum of not more than four feet which contained the products of many 
centuries closely pressed together. There are innumerable reasons for 
which the rate of deposit may vary almost indefinitely. To attempt 
therefore to estimate the rate of deposit in the prehistoric stratum from 


that which is observed in the historical layers above it is worse than 
illegitimate, it is sheer fantasy. 

In a less crude, but not very different form, the same error appears in 
the attempt made by several justly admired writers to establish a chrono- 
logical scale for the typological series preceding the historical in a country 
like Egypt. The system of sequence-dating based on typology is now 
familiar to all students. It was established for Egypt by Sir Flinders 
Petrie, and for Europe in general by Montelius. As a scheme of relative 
chronology it sometimes creaks a little, but on the whole it works well 
and has justified itself, though it may need occasional emendation. But 
the recurring attempts made by one author after another to translate this 
relative system into an absolute chronology of years have no logical 
justification whatsoever and only encourage self-deception. The argu- 
ment is really based on an assumption which can easily be shown to be 
fallacious. This is the assumption that the rate of progress in civilisa- 
tion is always uniform. If we know the rate of development in types 
which took place during the First and Second Dynasties and know also 
from inscriptions the length of these dynasties, then, it is argued, we have 
a yard-stick which can be applied to the period preceding the First and 
Second Dynasties. It is as though a policeman, having timed a speeding 
motor car over a measured mile, and found that it was going at sixty 
miles an hour, should appear before the magistrate and state that it was 
evident the defendant had been proceeding all day at sixty miles an hour. 
The falsity of the conception is evident as a mere matter of logic ; but 
it can also be shown by numerous examples in the well-known periods 
of mediaeval and modern history. Would any historian, for instance, 
seriously maintain that the rate of intellectual and artistic achievement 
was exactly the same during the Dark Ages as in the Gothic time or the 
Renaissance ? Would anyone venture to argue that the industrial pro- 
gress of the nineteenth century a.d. was no more rapid than that of the 
eighteenth, or that material development proceeded at the same rate in 
the reign of George I as in that of George V ? Merely to ask such ques- 
tions is sufficient. I need not dwell on the long centuries of Byzantine or 
Chinese immobility, or on the static quality of much actual Egyptian art. 

If, however, we must abandon such illegitimate methods, it is not quite 
impossible that properly directed ingenuity may find some others which 
will give a rough scale, less accurate indeed than the chronological, but 
nevertheless valuable. The recent success of Miss Caton-Thompson in 
settling the very difficult dating of Badarian culture by truly logical 
methods based on geology is very encouraging ; and thirty years ago 
I myself made a suggestion which I still think has some value. If, 
I suggested, we could discover the village corresponding to an ancient 
cemetery, and also ascertain the total number of burials in that cemetery, 
then we should be able by calculating the presumable death rate to arrive 
at a rough estimate of the number of generations. It is evident that several 
factors in this equation can never be established more than approximately, 
but it would be worth attempting if ever a suitable site could be found. 

Next we may briefly consider the problem of the dissemination of 
cultures. This is one of the most interesting and important aspects of 


archaeological study. In it are involved all questions of the migration 
and movements of peoples, their commerce and intercourse of all kinds, 
and the degree and extent of their reciprocal influence upon one another. 
It is really the cardinal problem of archaeology, irresistibly attractive, 
and for that very reason offering peculiar temptations to hasty and 
premature generalisation . 

Now the foundations of this particular study, in so far as they have been 
well and truly laid at all, have been laid not by archaeology but by other 
sciences, those in fact which deal not with man himself but with the 
conditions necessary to his very existence. Geology, climatology, 
palaeontology, palzeo-botany have been the instruments of that great 
progress in synthetic theory which I have pointed out as the special 
achievement of the last thirty or forty years. Those who have worked 
out the details and the stages of the Ice Age and the rainy periods have 
shown us that various parts of the world were uninhabitable for a long time. 
It is obvious, for instance, that man cannot exist under a snow- field, so 
that it is useless to look for him north of 50 degrees of latitude until the 
Ice Age is well past. That already reduces our problem to much smaller 
dimensions, and teaches us to exclude large parts of the world from the 
possible area of man's earliest evolution. Conversely, large areas which 
to the modern view seem impossible homes for man are shown to have 
been eminently suitable for the life of the palaeolithic hunter. The Sahara 
and the Gobi desert in their present condition cannot maintain the life of 
man or beast ; but the climatologist shows that there was a not very remote 
period when they were well- watered regions, covered with grass like the 
South African veldt, and teeming with large game. Thus he explains 
what otherwise might have remained an ambiguous problem for the 
archaeologist, the finding of human implements of very early types in these 
apparently uninhabitable tracts. 

The botanist next comes forward to tell us that the food plants on which 
a settled agricultural life depends can only be found in their wild state in 
certain closely defined areas. And he shows how changes of climate 
produce various types of afforestation which necessarily limit the move- 
ments and activities of a man who possesses only primitive tools. This 
type of reasoning has been exceedingly skilfully used, in particular by 
writers like Peake and Fleure, to restrict the range of choice and to give 
proportion, scale and limitation to the study of man's origin and move- 
ments. I regard this as one of the most solid achievements of recent years. 

But when the archaeologist proceeds by purely archaeological methods 
to fill in the details on a background of which the outlines are thus im- 
mutably drawn by the other sciences, he is confronted with innumerable 
difficulties of method, and the logic of his procedure is not always well 
studied. In the first place we must necessarily rule out many types of 
reasoning which are so general and inconclusive that they can never carry 
any conviction. A little serious reflection must show that we necessarily 
know so little of the mental equipment of early man that it is often 
impossible to say what actions and habits are natural to all men as highly 
developed anthropoids, and what are so peculiar as to be specifically 
human and characteristic of one or another developed type of man. 


As to many simple actions and habits there is simply no analogy which 
can teach us whether they are natural and inevitable to any human animal, 
or whether they presume so much specialised intelligence that they could 
only originate in some one place and time. I will choose a few instances. 

That man should seek shelter from the elements is so obviously natural, 
and so like all other animals, that probably no one would argue that the 
living in caves or the construction of a primitive shelter, analogous to an 
animal's lair or a bird's nest, must presuppose any identity of race or 
origin. Or again, may not any animal pile up stones ? And if so, at 
what exact stage does the piling up of stones become such a complex action 
that it can only be developed in one place ? After all, stones will only 
hold together in certain shapes ; the existence therefore of simple cairns 
in many parts of the world could be no valid evidence of a single mind at 
work. Let us go one step further and suppose that a shelter of stones 
has to be roofed. Is the laying of slabs, one overlapping the other so as 
to form a corbel , so intricate a device that it might not be invented in many 
places simultaneously .? It seems a very primitive process, even if it has 
been developed with great skill in certain countries. 

Again, let the form of shelter be the very primitive form of boughs or 
saplings placed in a circle and tied together at the top. If this simple 
trick is found amongst many peoples living thousands of miles apart, 
must we argue that they all learned it from the same source ? Take again 
the wattle-hut : birds know how to weave a nest and to plaster it with 
mud — is homo sapiens less intellectual than the hedge sparrow } 

This last example may carry us to another line of thought. It has 
sometimes been suggested that the discovery of the uses of burned clay, 
and consequently of baked pottery, may have been due to the accidental 
firing of a wattled hut. If so, it is difficuh to maintain that the invention 
of pottery could only happen in one place, unless the use of fire was 
limited to one little spot on the earth. 

Even with regard to burial customs, though many probably will dis- 
agree with me, I think it is unwarrantable to suppose that simple customs 
found half the distance of the globe apart must have a common origin. 
There are many methods of disposing of the dead, but they fall into two 
main classes : those which aim at preserving the body and those which 
aim at destroying it. Are all races which destroy, or even those which 
destroy by the same general methods of exposure or burning, necessarily 
derived from the same stock or necessarily learning from one another .? 
It is not even convincing to say that races which preserve the body must 
have learned the idea from each other unless their methods are intricate 
and all the intricacies are identical. 

These apparently elementary questions go to the root of the whole 
matter. Whatever answer an archzeologist might give — and I person- 
ally would give no answer at all in such cases — he could not persuade 
by logical means any opponent who chose to disagree with him. He 
would be obliged when driven into a corner to say ' I am convinced ' of 
this or that, but the conviction would express nothing more than his own 
temperament and psychology. 

To apply logic at all then, we need to find our material in hghly 


specialised products or habits of man. In short, it is only possible to 
reason convincingly when manufactures or arts and crafts have reached a 
high point of intricacy. Let us take examples from flint-working, man's 
earliest craft. It seems fair to say that the use of natural flints, perhaps 
even of pre-Chellean or rostro-carinate and other forms which involve 
the minimum of workmanship, might arise independently among various 
types of almost simian man. But when it comes to elaborate chipping, 
and when this chipping produces implements of identical and highly 
specialised forms, then it is indeed logical to argue that this process and 
these forms could only have been invented once and only in one region. 
Chellean flints already seem to me to be so distinctly a product of a highly 
specialised intelligence, which might have taken a hundred other forms, 
that it must inevitably be inferred that a single type of man originated these 
artefacts, even though they are found distributed over an immense area. 

Still more it might be supposed that when one more degree of elabora- 
tion has been added, by the use of so peculiar a technique as pressing 
off flakes as well as chipping, the logical inference was still stronger. 
And if, further, this peculiar technique is combined with peculiar shapes, 
then the case seems to be almost irresistible. To accept this would entail 
some surprising consequences, linking, for instance, the Badarian culture 
of earliest Egypt with the Solutrean of Europe and perhaps with other 
even remoter places. Yet it is certainly good reasoning. It is curiously 
significant, however, of the difficulty of arriving at any certain conclusions 
that just as we might be ready to accept this theory of the Solutrean, 
with all its far-reaching consequences, Menghin comes forward with the 
assertion that the Solutrean style is the natural and inevitable product of 
the juxtaposition of a core-working and a flake-working industry. 

In contrast to the doubts and uncertainties which beset all reasoning 
based on the manufactures and products of early man, it is a relief to turn 
to a field in which unquestionable logical certainty can be achieved. This 
is when we are able to study man's action in moving and displacing natural 
products. For when the natural distribution as known to geologists of 
rocks, ores, and other natural products, is artificially changed there can 
be no doubt that man has been at work. The direction of his movements 
can be traced, the motive of his action can be divined, and even the intensity 
of his action can be measured. Thus if a certain kind of flint is peculiar 
to Grand Pressigny in France and implements of that flint are found in 
Switzerland, there can be no doubt that Switzerland is trading with 
Pressigny. Similarly, if gold combined with antimony is known only 
to occur in Transylvania, it is a just, though a surprising, inference that 
the sceptre of a very early Egyptian king, living about 3000 B.C., which 
shows this unique combination of metals, is made of gold from Tran- 
sylvania. To take a simple example from nearer home : if a number of 
stones in the circles of Stonehenge are of a type peculiar to Wales, they 
must have been transferred from Pembrokeshire to Salisbury Plain by 
man. In short, whenever the rare and precious stones used for ornament, 
the quarry stones used for building, or the peculiar metals and alloys 
used for jewellery and weapons can be shown to occur naturally only in 
one place and yet to be used in widely different areas, that is certain and 


positive evidence of trade and intercourse. The most perfect example 
of this kind is furnished by amber, which in one form of its composition 
is pecuUar to the Baltic. It is found at hundreds of stations all across 
Europe, from Jutland to Italy and Greece — a fact which proves beyond 
all possible doubt the existence of a trade route, of which every step and 
deviation can be traced. 

Raw materials, then, are better evidence than manufactures, especially 
in the earlier stages of man's life. When we are dealing with the works 
of man, logical processes of real value only begin to be applicable as 
handicrafts become more complicated and as the arts begin to emerge. 
Between art-styles, if we are sufficiently discriminating, it is possible to 
institute sound contrasts and comparisons. To take an extreme instance, 
we should no doubt recognise a Greek statue even if it were found in 
West Africa. Thus an unprincipled person knew that we should recognise 
an Egyptian faience figure if it were found in South Africa, and produced 
a very passable forgery from South Africa in that reasonable confidence. 
There are, of course, traps for the untrained, and there is such a thing as 
expert criticism even of the most primitive painting in the world. But 
if the criticism is sufficiently good it ought to be able to arrive at quite 
positive results. No two schools of art can possibly coincide in the 
united peculiarities of technique, convention and artistic style. I am 
confident, therefore, that in due time we shall have our palaeolithic painters 
as neatly ticketed by schools as those of pre-Raphaelite Italy. 

When therefore we find, as we very frequently find in all ages, either 
very highly specialised implements or very complex manufactures or 
highly stylised decorations, then we may and must concede that they 
originate from a single source. The hammer-axes of Troy and the Danube, 
the polygonal battle-axes so widely spread over Southern Russia and 
Northern Europe, the lunulae of Irish gold, the decorated situlae of Iron 
Age Italy, the painted vases of pre-Corinthian style, may stand as instances 
of highly specialised products which unquestionably denote commerce 
and reciprocal influence wherever they occur. To measure the intensity 
of the influence and the direction of the commerce is another and scarcely 
less difficult task, but the contact itself is beyond all doubt. No one has 
so ably and scientifically used evidence of this kind as Prof. Childe. 

But we have to be on our guard against many cases in which the style 
is hardly developed enough to be a convincing criterion, or in which 
the style has become so confused owing to cross influences that it gives 
an ambiguous answer. Most of all does this occur in the sphere of 
pottery. There is no study that is more necessary to the archaeologist, 
more fruitful in its potentialities or more fascinating to pursue than that 
of pottery. It is very often approached, however, with the utmost 
light-heartedness and with an absence of technical knowledge which 
can only provoke scepticism and irritation in a critical reader. How 
often have I read suggestions for pottery manufacture which any potter 
knows to be technically impossible ! And how entirely subjective and 
arbitrary seem many of the assertions commonly made as to derivation 
and influence ! There is more bad reasoning in regard to pottery than 
in regard to any other part of our subject. 


Here and there however, though almost confined to the work of only 
a very small number of authors, there is some extraordinarily good reason- 
ing. Dr. Frankfort in particular has shown that he is fully alive not 
only to all the subtleties and intricacies of the subject, but also to the 
peculiar traps which it constantly presents for the unwary. I will quote 
one admirable piece of reasoning which only a skilled technologist could 
have used. In pre-dynastic Egypt there occurs a very handsome and 
well-known class of pottery of which the body is red and the upper margin 
a lustrous black. In Anatolia and Cyprus a similar black-topped red 
pottery is found. It would be most natural to suppose, and it has been 
constantly assumed, that the Anatolian and Cypriote wares were derived 
from those of Egypt. But Frankfort shows that though the results are 
similar in the two wares the processes from which they were derived are 
radically different. The Egyptian school, of which we know the entire 
genealogy, is the result of evolution from a process of producing red ware ; 
the Anatolian and Cypriote arise out of a black ware production. In spite, 
therefore, of a very close fortuitous resemblance there is no dissemination 
from a single source even in this highly specialised type of pottery. 

In dealing with pottery, especially in such early stages as the Neolithic 
and the Chalcolithic, there is the same danger of reasoning in too general 
terms that I have already pointed out in regard to primitive customs and 
habits. Limitations of opportunity and knowledge, similar climatic 
conditions, and even deep-lying similarities of temperament, may produce 
an apparent uniformity of type over a wide area without necessarily 
implying commerce or contact. It is generally agreed, for instance, 
that the entire margin of the Mediterranean, throughout all its length 
and breadth, was principally peopled by a uniform race called the 
Mediterranean race. It is also an observed fact that in the Neolithic 
and Bronze Ages a carboniferous black ware, so uniform in its general 
character that I and others have been content to call it simply ' Mediter- 
ranean black ware,' is found all over the same area. In the Iron Age it 
becomes specialised into finer products of great beauty, such as the 
bucchero especially associated with the Etruscans. Now it might naturally 
be argued that the uniformity of this black ware, coinciding as it does so 
nearly with the distribution of the Mediterranean race, was due to the 
uniformity of the race. This, however, does not necessarily follow, and 
the fact that black bucchero also appears as far away as Japan, without 
any intermediate links to connect it with the Mediterranean, shows that 
the inference would actually be false. The real explanation no doubt 
is that all these peoples are living at just the same stage of technical 
knowledge and limitation. They did not know the use of the kiln — they 
were obliged to burn their pottery in open bonfires. Wherever this is 
done the fire is smoky, and black smudges on the surface of the pot give 
it an unsightly appearance. The easiest way of remedying this trouble 
is to make an all-black ware on which the smoke-stains do not appear. 
This is the simple and rational explanation of the occurrence of the 
black carboniferous wares which occur almost literally from ' China to Peru . ' 
Similarly in regard to form, primitive man is closely conditioned by the 
material which he has around him. The smaller vessels used during the 


Neolithic stage are all imitations in clay of receptacles originally made in 
other materials. Goatskins, leather bags, gourds and baskets are some 
of the natural predecessors of pots. It is only to be expected therefore 
that the clay imitations of these will be found far and wide among people 
who may have had no racial connection or commercial intercourse of any 
kind. It is only occasionally that geographical conditions may intervene 
to prove that there is a real unity of culture underlying the superficial 
resemblances. There is, however, one happy instance of this. Gourds 
are indigenous in tropical and semi-tropical countries, but do not grow 
naturally in Europe. When, therefore, pots derived from gourd-forms 
are found in Moravia, it is a logical and necessary inference that the people 
who made them on the Danube came from a gourd-producing country 
like Asia Minor, or were in close commercial relation with it. 

The same caution that is needed in reasoning about the technique 
and the form of very primitive pottery must also be used in regard to a 
great deal of the decoration. Pitting holes with the fingers, puncturing 
rudimentary designs with a stick or a bone, studding the surface with 
warts and bosses, even imitating the human face, are probably devices 
natural to any and every primitive man or woman. The production of 
simple patterns by tying a string on the wet clay or copying the impres- 
sions made by a net or a basket is equally natural and by no means 
distinctive of any one people. 

In short, it is seldom possible to produce any convincing argument 
from pottery as to dissemination of culture or movements of peoples 
until the potter has so completely mastered his material and his imple- 
ments that he, or more generally she, begins to invent freely and to form 
distinctive schools of design and ornament. This stage is reached by 
the advanced peoples of Egypt, the Near East, and the Aegean, in the 
Copper and Bronze Ages while Europe still lags far behind. And so 
it is natural that the best studies of pottery connections which have yet 
appeared, from the pens of such writers as J. L. Myres and Frankfort, 
deal with these more advanced regions. Into the complexities of their 
arguments I cannot here enter ; but I think it may be well to emphasise 
that the quality of their reasoning is put on a different plane from that 
of many other writers by the fact that it is based on actual technological 
knowledge. It is only too evident that many general writers on the 
theory of pottery have never seen a primitive potter at work, have never 
experimented with their own hands, and have seldom even read the very 
considerable though scattered literature produced by travellers who have 
accurately studied primitive methods among contemporary peoples. 

In concluding this necessarily very brief resume of the pottery question 
I should like to contrast two examples of reasoning, the one of which has 
led to useful and fruitful results while the other threatens to plunge us 
into confusion. All archaeologists are agreed that the beakers which 
have such a wide distribution over Europe in the Bronze Age are derived 
from a single source, though they are not unanimous as to the centre of 
origin. Their arguments are based on a study of graduated evolution 
and a connected system of distribution which it would be too long to 
examine but which is generally recognised as valid. This unification 


of a single system all over the west and north of Europe, including Great 
Britain, has greatly assisted the study of the Bronze Age in those regions. 

But contrast with this the attempts which are being made — not, I am 
glad to say, without many protests — to unify the schools of painted pottery 
so as to make a chain from Chalcolithic Sicily to China. The dates 
are hopelessly incompatible over large sections of this immense area, the 
civilisations have few if any points in common, and yet we are invited to 
unify them on the sole basis of paint being used. It is even asserted in 
so many words that it is improbable that the idea of applying paint to 
pottery should arise independently in different centres. It might be 
too dogmatic to say that this is utterly illogical, but it can certainly be 
said that it is quite unconvincing. The discovery of paint is in itself 
easy and inevitable, and once this medium is known it will naturally be 
used for anything and everything. To paint every object in sight, from 
his or her face to the furniture, the house, the shutters, the tables and 
chairs, is surely the natural impulse of every homo sapiens, whether male 
or female, from the earliest times to the present day. As for the fixing 
of the colour on the pottery by firing, that is no discovery at all, for the 
pottery has to be fired in any case, whether it is painted or not. 

We need a systematic study of this entire subject of the reasoning 
that can and cannot be based on pottery. I have been able to touch on 
only a few points, and shall be more than satisfied if I may have stimulated 
someone to work the whole matter out more thoroughly. It cannot, 
however, be done without a wide experience and without a very thorough 
technological knowledge. 

And this leads me to make in conclusion the only suggestion that I 
think need be made in regard to the training of the young archaeologists of 
the coming generation. I do not believe that early specialisation in archaeo- 
logical training would be wholesome — indeed I think it would probably 
be rather harmful. As I mentally call over the roll of my most distin- 
guished colleagues, some a little older and some a little younger than 
myself, I am struck with the remarkable diversity of their background 
and training. Several dozen potential professions and callings are 
represented among them. But this diversity has probably been a real 
source of strength. That classical scholars, historians, anthropologists, 
geologists, lawyers, engineers, artists and many other types of mind should 
focus from different angles on the same subjects has led to catholicity and 
breadth. For it is not so important that an archaeologist should be an 
expert in one subject as that he should be widely and well educated. But 
with this premise once granted, I think that much time would be saved, 
and much efficiency would be added, if the student at the beginning of 
his archaeological career were to superimpose a year or so of intensive techno- 
logical training on his more general education. We all know the saying that 
a man does not really know about an object until he can make it. A technical 
training in primitive handicrafts such as pottery-making, flint-chipping, 
weaving, and the hammering, alloying and casting of metals, would give 
him an insight which no mere reading or even handling of finished specimens 
can give. We must all envy the rising generation its wonderful oppor- 
tunities. I venture on this one small suggestion for its assistance. 







On August 29 there occurred the tercentenary of one who is often called 
' the father of English psychology,' John Locke, 163 2-1 704. 

His Essay concerning Human Understanding is primarily a theory of 
knowledge, not a system of psychology, but none the less there is much 
of psychological interest in the Essay, and it has had a profound influence 
on empirical psychology in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. 

We may regard it as a misfortune that what he described as a ' historical 
plain method ' should have been interpreted as a genetic study, and that 
his doctrine of simple and complex ideas should have been translated into 
a doctrine of psychological elements and compounds ; but such has been 
the case. Historians trace a straight line of descent from the Essay of 
Locke to the Analysis of the Phenome7ia of the Human Mind by James 
Mill, and thus claim Locke as a founder of the Association school. 

It may seem a far cry from 1632 to 1932, but I want to consider some 
of the differing constructive theories of learning and knowledge offered 
by the psychologists of to-day in the light of the unreconciled methods 
and principles which find expression in the Essay. 

We find first and foremost in the Essay a confusion of logical and 
psychological analysis ; secondly, we find a theory that attributes the union 
of discrete ideas to their accidental association in time, introduced as an 
afterthought to the theory that ideas are united by the perception of their 
connection or repugnancy. 

To begin with the confusion of logical with psychological analysis. 
As Prof. Gibson has pointed out in his book Locke's Theory of Know- 
ledge, at the time at which Locke was writing the distinction between 
the elements of knowledge attainable by logical analysis and the simple 
beginnings of knowledge attainable by genetic study was a distinc- 
tion which it was well-nigh impossible for a writer to draw. Growth 
and development were conceptions which had a very different colouring 
from what they have for us to-day. They were, moreover, conceptions 
which had no literal application to knowledge. Knowledge for Locke 
was a structure whose validity could be tested by taking it to pieces. 
Just as a logical analysis of the ultimate items into which, say, a building 

G 2 


could be resolved and an inquiry into the material out of which it arose 
might lead one to much the same catalogue of stones and beams, so a 
logical analysis of knowledge into its elements seemed to have the same 
issue as an inquiry into the beginnings of knowledge. That which is 
simple in its content is easily confused with that which is simple in its 
origin. It is this confusion which lays Book II of Locke's Essay open to 
much misunderstanding. Having in Book I denied that mind is possessed 
of ideas at birth, and having claimed that all knowledge is founded upon, 
and derived from, experience, Locke seems by his account of the ' simple 
ideas ' of sensation and reflection and of the ' complex ideas ' built upon 
them to be offering a psychological constructive theory of knowledge. 

There is much of great psychological value in this second book : his 
frequent appeal to concrete illustrations, his references to children and 
animals, the famous citation of Molineux's problem whether a man whose 
sight was only restored to him in adult life would be able to distinguish 
by sight between a sphere and a cube. The book also contains his 
striking chapter on retention, vivid through its analogies but of paramount 
importance for psychology by reason of the statement added in the 
second edition : ' This laying up of our ideas in the repository of the 
memory signifies no more but this, that the mind has a power in many 
cases to revive perceptions which it has once had with this additional 
perception annexed to them, that it has had them before, and in this sense 
it is that our ideas are said to be in our memories, when indeed they are 
actually nowhere ; but only there is an ability in the mind when it will 
to revive them again, and as it were paint them anew on itself, though 
some with more, some with less difficulty ; some more lively, and others 
more obscurely ' (II. x. 2). Here there is a glimpse of a conception 
which might have done much to correct the atomism encouraged by the 
* blank paper ' and ' cabinet ' metaphors in other passages. 

When mind is compared with an empty cabinet which is furnished by 
the simple ideas of sensation and reflection, simple ideas are being treated 
as the psychological origin of knowledge. When, on the other hand, 
Locke tells us that simple ideas are unanalysable, are not distinguishable 
into different ideas, and are those in which men agree when they clear away 
verbal misunderstanding, we have simple ideas as the materials of know- 
ledge in the logical sense. If we look at the simple ideas listed together, 
we find the same confusion : the items ' colour,' ' sound,' ' pleasure,' 
' pain ' might be interpreted as psychologically simple, but what of the 
items ' existence,' ' unity,' ' power,' ' succession ' ? 

We are told of the idea of unity, ' Amongst all the ideas we have, as 
there is none suggested to the mind by more ways, so there is none more 
simple, than that of unity, or one : it has no shadow of variety or com- 
position in it : every idea our senses are employed about, every idea in 
our understandings, every thought of our minds, brings this idea along 
with it.' The simplicity of ' one ' or ' unity ' lies in its content rather 
than its origin. It may be logically implied by every single idea, but this 
does not explain how we come to reach the idea of unity. Similar 
difficulties are found in Locke's account of succession, duration and 
space. Prof. Ward wrote, ' Locke hopelessly confuses time as perceived 


and time as conceived.' I would prefer to say he confuses the psycho- 
logical and logical analysis of the idea. 

In his account of complex ideas he starts with what purports to be a 
psychological account of how they are formed — viz. the operations of 
compounding by putting together several simple ideas, and of abstracting 
by ' separating them from all other ideas that accompany them in their 
real existence.' These operations are set side by side with the operations 
of comparison and seeing relations. Locke holds that such operations 
are not present in animals. The complex ideas of animals are apparently 
combinations of simple ideas given to, not made by, the animal. ' They 
take in and retain together several combinations of simple ideas, as 
possibly the shape, smell and voice of his master make up the complex 
idea a dog has of him, or rather are so many distinct marks whereby he 
knows him ; yet I do not think they do of themselves ever compound 
them, and make complex ideas ' (IL xi. 7). These operations of mind 
in building complex ideas are never brought into clear relation with the 
operation which constitutes knowledge — viz. ' perception of the connection 
of and agreement, or disagreement and repugnancy, of any of our ideas.' 
Cutting across his attempted psychological account of how complex ideas 
come to be formed, Locke gives a logical classification of complex ideas 
according to the nature of their object or reference : there are ideas of 
modes, of substances, and of relations. In this we have another example 
of the confusion of the psychological and the logical standpoint, or shall 
one say of transition from one to the other without any realisation of the 
change in outlook ? 

No orthodox psychologist from the time of Wundt onward would have 
admitted for a moment that his acceptance of sensations as psychological 
simple elements was due to logical analysis. He would have declared 
that it was due rather to the analysis of physiological events, viz. the 
simple stimulation of a sensory receptor and the resultant excitation of 
the central nervous system. 

I question whether any psychologist who sets out from simple sensations 
is really determined by a search for what is primitive in experience. 
That we do not experience simple sensations as such is, of course, admitted 
on all hands ; when treated as elements they are often said to be reached 
by ' hypothetical ' analysis. What I want to suggest is that such analysis 
is the outcome of logic, not psychology. The method implies that 
perceptual knowledge is a structure, the logical analysis of which will 
yield the bricks out of which it is made. This is a teaching derived from 
Locke's Essay. The use to which the Association school put Locke's 
theory of association rests on this doctrine. The theory is given in a 
section added to the fourth edition of the Essay, and was put forward as a 
theory to explain strange aversions and likings, prejudices and errors. It 
is never put on a level with the synthetic processes of knowledge wherein 
there is perception of a relationship between ideas. Association is thus 
primarily a way of uniting items which are discrete and have no intrinsic 
connection with one another. 

Gestalt psychology to-day is never tired of proclaiming itself as a revolt 
from Associationism. Even if we believe that Associationism in pure 


psychology is dead, how far may it nevertheless be true that Gestalt is 
fighting a present-day attitude of mind which had its historical foundation 
in Locke's confusion of logical analysis and an inquiry into psychological 
genesis ? 

Gestalt psychology would claim that no constructive explanation can 
be satisfactory which sets out from such elements as sensory events or 
reflex responses, and attempts to build up the experienced phenomena of 
human awareness and behaviour by the synthetic method. Perceptual 
awareness of a situation and responsive behaviour must on their view be 
taken in toto. The explanation of why just ' this ' is perceived rather 
than ' that ' must be sought in the physical constitution of the immediate 
environment and in the total condition of the organism. The school 
sets itself the task of studying the conditions in the stimulating situation 
which determine the perception of this pattern rather than that. It is 
always the pattern or configuration as a whole which has to be explained. 
Much experimental work has been done and valuable information ob- 
tained, particularly in the field of visual perception. 

Whereas for the ' orthodox ' school — if there is still a school capable of 
claiming this adjective — ' meaning ' in the form of memory images, actual 
or potential, comes in as an ingredient in the complex perception of an x, 
for Gestalt meaning may lie in the nature of the sensory pattern or total 
organisation. To take an example, size or shape perceived in indirect 
vision is not ' apparent ' size or shape modified by the memory of * real * 
size and shape ; the size or shape actually perceived is due to the sensory 
pattern of the whole field. 

Leaving aside such characters of perceived objects as form, size, colour, 
brightness, and considering the characters derived from past experience 
of effects upon the percipient, a wider interpretation of ' meaning ' is 
required. For example, ' these red berries ' are recognised as poisonous. 
' Poisonous ' is not due to the sensory pattern in the sense in which the 
particular shade of red is. Intra-organic conditions are stressed in such 
a case. We have a theory of memory traces. ' Traces of past experiences 
are neither an indifferent continuum nor a mosaic of independent points ; 
rather they must be pictures of past organisation.' ^ We must presume 
that the behaviour response wherein lay the gist of being noxious is part 
of the berry organisation. It is ' organisation ' which for Gestalt replaces 
the conception of association. The so-called association of contiguity is 
never mere collocation in time or space. It is always an instance of 
organisation. ' Organisation is not at all an aggregation of indifferent 
material. ... If association is a consequence of organisation, it must 
also depend upon the mutually relative properties of what is or shall be 
organisated.' ^ 

When we turn to the question, How do organisations arise ? we may 
not be wholly satisfied with the answers at present forthcoming. There 
are the sensory organisations or patterns the conditions of which are being 
experimentally investigated. Here the relative importance of the en- 
vironmental and the intra-organic factors stands in need of elucidation. 
Descriptive terms such as ' closure,' ' nearness,' ' pregnancy,' ' symmetry ' 
1 Kohler, Gestalt Psychology, p. 211. ^ Ibid. p. 226. 


summarise the present formulations of experimental findings. There 
are also the organisations said to be created intentionally. Here the 
* self ' and ' attitudes ' are called in as explanatory concepts, and with them 
we pass over into a speculative region of tensions and dynamic relations 
in the brain field , a somewhat misty region i n our present state of knowledge . 

The contemporary representatives of Locke's doctrine of association 
are, of course, the Behaviourists. According to this school, man is born 
with certain native responses to definite conditions in his environment : 
his unconditioned reflexes. He ' learns ' or acquires new responses when 
an original response is extended to a different situation or when an 
original situation is made to evoke a different response. This acquirement 
is the result of ' conditioning.' All conditioning depends upon the tem- 
poral arrangement of the factors in the stimulating situation and upon 
the structure of the animal's nervous system. Conditioning is a scientific 
formulation of the facts noticed by Locke as association. ' Custom 
settles habits of thinking in the understanding, as well as of determining 
in the will, and of motions in the body : all which seems to be but trains 
of motions in the animal spirits, which, once set agoing, continue in the 
same steps they have been used to ; which, by often treading, are worn 
into a smooth path, and the motion in it becomes easy, and as it were 
natural . . . and are therefore called so, though at first they had no other 
original but the accidental connection of two ideas, which either the strength 
of the first impression, or future indulgence so united, that they always 
kept company together in that man's mind as if they were but one idea ' 
(Essay, II, xxxiii, § 6 and 7). In the language of Behaviourism such a 
man is ' conditioned ' to respond to the second idea as he originally did 
to the first. As in Associationism the complex phenomena of mind were 
constructed from the simple ones by association, so in Behaviourism all 
the complex phenomena of human behaviour are constructed from the 
simple units of reflex responses by conditioning. To quote from a 
recent article by Pavlov : ' The theory of reflexes divides this general 
activity of the organism into separate activities, connecting them with 
internal as well as external influences, and then unites them anew, one 
to another, which brings us to a more and more clear understanding of the 
total activity of the organism, as well as of the interaction of the organism 
with surrounding conditions.'^ Thus might James Mill have described 
the aim of his Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind. Behaviour- 
ism presents us with a tidy system wherein everything hangs together. 
The whole of man's thought (speech) and conduct is theoretically capable 
of being explained deductively from his original reflexes subject to 

There are other contemporary schools wherein association figures as a 
great principle of linkage, but in each of them some condition over and 
above bare sequence is recognised. In the psychology of Prof. McDougall 
association by bare contiguity has a place, but he also lays great stress on 
the learning that implies a thread of purposive interest. The ' a," b ' and 
' c ' that are associated together are members of what Prof. Stout terms a 
' conative unity.' This interest would be an essential feature in the 

^^Psy. Review, 1932, p. 103. 


experience acquired in working out any instinctive tendency. Member- 
ship of a purposive whole is in principle a radical departure from associa- 
tion by temporal contiguity. 

In psycho-analysis there is again great emphasis on association and its 
opposite, dissociation. The old forms of association, contiguity and 
similarity, are retained and much use is made of them in explaining trans- 
ference, trains of ideas, complexes, but the operation of association links 
appears to be completely controlled by instinctive and emotional disposi- 
tions. The machinery of association is the same as in the older doctrines, 
but the levers are operated by forces which lie quite outside the ken of 
association psychology. 

Association figures also in the motor- theory of consciousness, and 
here it would seem to be more after the old pattern. All association is 
between movement systems. Contiguity and similarity must be inter- 
preted as contiguity and similarity between the systems of incipient and 
overt movements involved in the associated ideas. 

We have' said that Locke left his afterthought, his union of ideas by 
association, unreconciled with, or unrelated to, his account of knowing. 
Knowledge is the perception of the connection of and agreement, or 
disagreement and repugnancy, of any of our ideas. In Book IV he gives 
us a classification of the kinds of connections and repugnancies we thus 
perceive : identity, relation, co-existence or necessary connection, real 
existence. It would be out of place to go into the details of each class. 
What is at once apparent is that in all varieties of knowing the knower is 
perceiving some kind of relation between his ideas. They are synthesised 
or united in virtue of a perceived agreement or repugnancy. 

If we turn to contemporary psychology we may compare this doctrine 
with the principles of cognition laid down by Prof. Spearman. Prof. 
Spearman calls his qualitative principles of cognition ' noegenetic' He 
claims that they and they alone are generative of new items in the 
field of cognition. FamiHar as these principles may be, I will venture to 
quote the second and the third. The second is the principle of the 
eduction of relations : ' The mentally presenting of any two or more 
characters (simple or complex) tends to evoke immediately a knowing of 
relation between them.' The third is the principle of the eduction of 
correlates : ' The presenting of any character together with any relation 
tends to evoke immediately a knowing of the correlate character.' These 
two principles make the knowing of relations the basic fact of cognition. 
They are the key to intelligence. Prof. Spearman would agree with 
Gestalt psychologists in stressing organisation. He diflFers from them by 
regarding organisation as dependent upon perceiving characters as related. 
All organisation or synthesis depends ultimately upon cognised relations. 
He thus denies sensory organisations as simple data. By his second 
principle he necessarily repudiates association in the Lockian sense. 
Although he keeps the names of the old laws of association, contiguity 
and similarity, he states explicitly that ' quasi-mechanical reproductive 
adherence has its source in the noetic coherence.'* In principle repro- 
duction by association and the eduction of correlates are akin. The 

* Nature of Intelligence, p. 146. 


distinction is that in reproduction the relata have already been related 
in past experience, the organisation is old, whereas in eduction of 
correlates the educed correlate is new. It is this aspect of his third 
principle in creating new knowledge that Prof. Spearman wishes to 
stress, and it is just this stress that differentiates his principle from tha 
of relative suggestion advocated by Thomas Brown in his Philosophy of 
the Human Mind, 1820. Whether such a distinction of ' old ' and ' new ' 
is one that can be drawn in any absolute sense is a question that need 
not be raised in this connection. 

Locke left us with unreconciled methods and principles, and in con- 
necting these with differing schools in contemporary psychology I may 
seem to be emphasising divergencies of doctrine. Indeed, I may seem 
to be giving support to the gibe that to-day there is no psychology, only 
a collection of psychologies. By many this is thought to be a sure sign 
of decadence. At first sight there is much in the present situation which 
may give rise to a sense of disappointment to those of us who belong 
to the older generation. The present century opened full of hope — 
psychology was emerging as a new science. It was being recognised as 
something distinct both from philosophy and from physiology. It was 
rapidly developing a technique of its own. All was ' set fair * for the 
growth of the ' new * psychology. It is true there were schools in a very 
limited sense. There was Leipzig, Gottingen, Paris, Harvard, Cornell, 
etc., but the lines of cleavage represented, say, at the Paris Congress of 
1900 were but deep furrows in a common experimental field. To-day 
the schools appear to be separated by unbridged gulfs. Yet it is little 
more than fifty years since Wundt opened his laboratory in Leipzig, and 
fifty years is a brief interval in historical retrospect. Is the present 
division of theory really a bad sign ? Does it indicate the petering out 
of the spirit which animated the workers from 1879 to 1900, or is it a sign 
of vigour ? I believe there are good grounds for believing the latter 
alternative. Prof. Woodworth, in his book Contemporary Schools of 
Psychology, declares, ' all the schools are emphasising something that 
demands emphasis and serve a useful function in the progress of psy- 
chology.' The methods and principles which find a place in Locke's 
Essay may demand for their reconciliation, not resolution but increase 
of knowledge to enable us to mark out their respective spheres. 


If Prof. Woodworth is right, we need reject no * psychology ' as false, 
but rather consider how far its particular teaching serves to explain 
certain aspects of complex human phenomena. It is as a concrete 
exemplification of this view that I wish to use data from my recent 
studies of memory. 

Experiments A. 

Last year I had the honour of laying before this Section the results of 

some experiments on recall. The material used was pictorial, British 

Museum postcards depicting the occupations and pastimes of the months, 

copies from a sixteenth-century Flemish MS. Six of these cards were 


shown serially to individual subjects, each card being exposed for thirty 
minutes. Immediately after the presentation the subjects were asked to 
write a full report of the cards. Without warning they were asked a 
month later to report all that they could then recall of the pictures ; a 
third report was called for at the end of another month, and finally, in 
some cases, a fourth report was written after the lapse of a period varying 
from a year to nineteen months. The results of these experiments 
showed that certain pictures had been uniformly well remembered and 
others ill. The question arose how far this might be due to the position 
of the cards in the series, rather than to the intrinsic character of the cards. 
The reports also suggested problems about the influence of one recall 
upon another. 

Further experiments have been made with the same material. Eleven 
new subjects took part, and the range of their scores for immediate 
recall show them to be a group comparable to that of the previous experi- 
ment. Some of the hypotheses suggested a year ago receive further 

Position in Series and Intrinsic Character. 

In the experiments of the present year the pictures which had been 
worst remembered were put in the positions occupied by the pictures 
yielding the best scores, and vice versa. To be first in the series would 
seem undoubtedly to be advantageous. The best score now as number i 
attaches to a card which only possessed a fair record previously as 
number 4. There is also something to be gained by being last in a series. 
As last picture old number 2 has now"a fair score. It previously had a 
very low one. 

But position will not explain everything. Old number 5 which was 
put in the position of good number 3 remains very low in score . Number 3 , 
though assigned the position of old low-scoring number 2, still yields a 
high score. Old number i is not so high now that it occupies the fourth 
place, but it still obtains a good score. 

One may contrast the two cards that retain their former respective high 
and low scores. I hazarded the suggestion last year that this was due to 
their intrinsic character, and in particular to the spatial organisation. In 
present number 2, foreground, middle distance and background make a 
single whole — each contributes to one scene. In present number 3 there 
are three scenes unrelated, whether viewed in terms of perceptual organi- 
sation or in terms of meaning. 

This year's reports contain evidence of the same confusions as last 
year's. In meaning there is a relation between ' Chopping Logs ' and 
' Felling Trees.' The right side of number 3, representing the latter 
activity, is imported into number i, where log-chopping is in the centre 
of the picture. The hut of number i and the hut of number 5 are 
interchanged ; each has a feature of similar appearance — viz. a wooden 
upright supporting the roof. The principles of Gestalt psychology as 
well as the doctrine of meaning may be evoked to explain the data. 

The recall of the picture wherein ' pig killing ' is the central episode 
may find its right explanation in the emotional value of the scene, and here 


psycho-analytic theories may be in place. What is recalled and what is 
forgotten both suggest the importance of emotional factors. 


In the experiments of last year there was one case of two recalls only, 
an immediate recall and a delayed recall after an interv^al of ten months. 
The second recall by this subject was much poorer than that of a com- 
parable subject who gave four recalls, the last after ar interval of fourteen 
months. To test further this influence of recall on recall the subjects of 
the present experiments were divided into two groups. Six gave four 
recalls — the fourth after an interval of four months, and five gave two 
recalls only — an immediate recall and the second after five months. The 
scores of this group are consistently lower in this last recall than those of 
the former group. Repetition of recital fixes recall. The same phrase- 
ology is used, the same errors are repeated from recall to recall. Subjects 
remember not only the original but their own reports of the original. 
This taken by itself is a testimony to habit memory. 

The distortions and changes in the nature of the objects and scenes 
depicted in the originals raised questions about the nature of memory 
traces. There were reports that bore out the Gestalt view of traces of 
organisation. There were reports wherein memory was conceptual in 
character. It is knowledge about the scene. There were other reports 
which suggested that if the writer saw imagery she created this in terms 
of her knowledge about the object or scene. Other reports suggested the 
presence of the orthodox memory image, a sensory presentation on the 
model of the original sensory pattern. The same features are shown in 
reports of this year's group. 

Experiments B. 

A new set of experiments was undertaken with the aim of testing the 
influence of conceptual knowledge about an object on the recall of a sense- 
given particular and the influence of one sense-given particular on the 
recall of another belonging to the same class. 

For these experiments two parallel sets of cards were used. Set X 
consisted of five variants of each of five simple objects — a lamp, a slipper, 
a book, a candlestick with candle, and a teapot. The objects were drawn 
in outline in black ink and coloured with chalk. Set Y consisted of five 
variants of five shapes. These variants were obtained by drawing the 
shadows of the same piece of cardboard placed in different positions in 
relation to a light. ^ 

One variant of each object (or shape) constituted a series. Three 
shades of yellow, of blue, of green, and of red chalk were used for the 
drawings, and no two drawings in any series were alike in both colour and 

5 This method was adopted by Stevanovic in his ' Experiments on the Mental 
Processes involved in Judgment ' {British Journal of Psychology. Monograph 
Supplement 12). The material for these experiments is a duplicate of material 
being used for a different purpose in other experiments, and I wish to express my 
thanks to Miss A. M. Jenkin for kindly allowing me to use her material and 
for making the duplicates. 


shade. While the variants in Set X are members of the same class, in 
that they are obviously lamps, slippers, etc., the variants of Set Y have the 
same fundamental relationships of form. The character of the outline 
is determined by the one original. 

Six subjects took part in the experiments vs^ith Set X, and four of them 
continued with Set Y. The five cards constituting a series were shown 
serially to the individual subjects under the same conditions as in the 
picture experiments. The order of objects or shapes was kept constant 
and an immediate recall was asked for. The subject was required to 
draw a reproduction of what she had seen on a card of similar size, and 
was provided with a box of chalks containing the full range of hues and 
shades. In addition to her drawing, the subject wrote any introspective 
report or comment that she wished. After giving this immediate recall of 
the series seen at that sitting the subject was asked for a delayed recall of 
the series seen a week earlier. 

It would be unsuitable to give a detailed report of these experiments. 
I want here to confine myself to presenting a table of the objects and 
shapes which were reproduced best and worst, and to noting salient 
points about the recalls. 

Each reproduction was scored for accuracy in colour, shade, and form 
(including orientation). Marking for size was tried but abandoned ; a 
drawing that was too large because of an addition or too small because of 
an omission involved debiting the same error twice. Drawing the object 
or shape consistently smaller than the original was in one case an individual 
characteristic. One mark was given for correct colour (half for hue, 
half for shade) and one mark or a fraction, according to the proportion of 
the whole form correctly reproduced. The tables (pp. 179-80) give the 
results. Roman numerals indicate the series and Arabic the objects and 

The number of persons taking part in the experiment is so small that 
quantitative results have no great significance. Taking the five series 
together, the object and the shape which secures the highest average 
score in immediate recall is the one that stands first. Position would 
again seem to be a determining factor in recall. If the objects and shapes 
marked b and w — best and worst — in the delayed recall are compared with 
those marked in the two recalls taken together, it will be seen that there is 
close agreement. 

The fifth variant of the second object — viz. slipper — is slightly better on 
joint scores than the fifth variant of the third object, book, which had the 
best average in immediate recall. The fifth variant of the fifth object, 
teapot, is the worst in both immediate and delayed recall. It has gained 
nothing from its end position, though the last cards of the series have a 
high average score. 

When these best and worst scores are analysed into the mark given for 
colour and that given for form, colour and form contribute equally to the 
score of the book in immediate recall, form more than colour to the score 
of the slipper. 

Colour and form are responsible for the low score of the fifth teapot, 
and colour for the low score of the fourth candlestick. The first best 



















































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shape on immediate recall has only a moderate score on delayed recall. 
The shape which is one of the second best in immediate recall is first 
in delayed recall and on joint score. The worst shape in immediate 
recall is lost altogether in delayed recall. The second worst receives a 
low score. These constitute the two worst on joint score. 

Analysing for colour and form, one finds that colour and form are both 
contributory to the high score of the best shapes in immediate and 
delayed recall, and to the second best in delayed and joint recall. The 
low scores in immediate and in joint recall are due more to form than to 

Coming to the qualitative consideration of the actual recalls, one may 
take the two sets separately. 

Set X. 

A study of the reproductions shows very clearly the influence of ' know- 
ledge about.' In Set X no one ever reproduced anything but an object 
of the appropriate class — a lamp, a slipper. I attribute the low scores of 
the teapot V and candlestick IV to their commonplace character ; they are 
reproduced just as a teapot and a candlestick, and the particularising 
features are lost. As one subject writes, ' The teapot was, I think, ordinary 
shape.' The best recalled slipper V and book V have distinctive 
characteristics, although each is a familiar example of its class. 

Knowledge that the object is so and so is frequent even when the re- 
production is wrong in form, colour, or orientation, or all three. There 
may be knowledge that the slipper was a mule, that the lamp was angular, 
that the book was lying down, without ability to recall the particular 
object with its sensory features. There may be an imaged object, but 
the image is not a recreation of the original pattern. 

As an illustration of reasoning out a memory recall based on ' know- 
ledge about,' the following is worth quoting in full. It relates to lamp II. 

' I find very great difficulty in seeing or drawing this. I remember 
that it consisted of two balanced arrangements of planes. There 
was a triangular shape in both large masses, but how the other lines 
fitted on to this I can't tell. The above was written after my first 
attempt to draw. When I returned to this I saw it wouldn't do, 
because I couldn't get depth in. So I started again, building up 
the two blocks (one small, one large, in each) as I thought they must 
go if there was to be depth. I was pleased when I saw this gave me 
a triangle on top because I feel sure there was one. But now that 
I look at it, I don't think it was this shape. It was more like the 
shape of my original wrong start. Also I now don't feel certain 
whether the smaller blocks were on top of the bigger blocks or rice 
versa. I'll colour in what I have drawn and see if it helps me to see 
whether it looks like the original. Done. It looks very unlike it. 
I shall put the outlines in, in pencil. Done. This makes it a bit 
better, but I've got it too symmetrical. The bottom was less large 
than the top, and the whole didn't seem to go in such a straight line. 
I think there were other surfaces bounded by lines, but I can't see 


how they would fit on to the shapes. As I was writing this I saw 
I'd left out the third side of the bottom triangle. I stopped and 
put it in. I shall try some lines down the sides to see if these make 
the figure look at all more as it should. They are not right. I give 
this one up.' 

The influence of the object of the day on the delayed recall of the series 
of the previous week is evident in the errors of form, of colour, and of 

There are many instances of remembering form or colour through 
* association.' 

' When I saw the book I immediately tasted olives.' 
' I remembered the sandal because it had reminded me so much of 
sand in colour and purpose.' ' I liked the lamp ; the stand reminded 
me of a galle vase (sic) I had once seen converted into a lamp.' 

As with the more elaborate pictures, one finds evidence in the reports of 
what I should term genuine memory images, re-creations of the original 
sensory pattern. 

' I had a visual image and started to draw. At first I left no place 
for the band between shade and bottom. I saw this was wrong as I 
drew the bottom coming up to meet the shade without any band, and 
so corrected it. As I did so I had a distinct visual image of this 
band, seeing black lines on it and the handle.' 

' The slipper — I could not remember anything about it at all, so 
could not draw it. I could see my own page of writing quite clearly, 
and knew whereabouts on the page I had mentioned the shoe.' 

Set Y. 
Conceptual knowledge of the shape had to be gained from the experi- 
ments themselves before it could be used as an aid to recall, and was in 
fact only gained by two of the four subjects. The scores are lower than 
in Set X, and each subject refers to the difficulty of the task. 

' There is nothing definite that I can get hold of about these 
except the colour. They are so complicated. The objects were 
much easier, as one could remember them by thinking of shoes, etc., 
like one has really seen.' 

The best scores for shapes are for V 4 and II 4, shapes which all four 
subjects likened to an animal and a bird respectively. V 5 scores prin- 
cipally through colour, but its form is also well remembered and its 
symmetry is noted. The worst shapes are those that are most indefinite 
and suggest no analogies. Colour rather than form is responsible for 
the low score of IV i . 

As in Set X, the influence of the perceived variant of the day on delayed 
recall is seen in the errors of form, colour and orientation. 

All subjects try to see the shapes as like something. 

* The designs seem much easier when I can connect them with 
something else.' 


This does not aid memory in the direct way in which association may 
aid the recall of the objects. If an analogy is seen for the variants of the 
first series, the subject tries to apply this as a controlling concept to the 
following series, and here it may have misleading results and cause con- 
fusion. The second shape in the first series was seen as ' a slipper ' by 
everyone (possibly the fact that in Set X the second object was a slipper 
contributed to this interpretation). ' Slipperness ' is not very appropriate 
for an accurate recall of the later variants of this shape. The first shape 
of the first series was seen as a picture hook and a chicken's head, with 
misleading results in each case. Reproductions are worked out in terms 
of the analogy. 

' I feel my drawing has become too much simply like a slipper.' 
' How did the horse one go ? ' ' Which is the bird one .'' ' 

The subjects who got hold of the concept of the shape reproduced 
shapes correct in general features, but sometimes wrong in orientation or 
in colour, and sometimes unlike the original when this is regarded as a 
sensory whole. 

As in Set X, there is evidence of simple memory images. Thus one 
subject writes : 

' I tried to think of the shape. I remembered angles one side, 
curves the opposite — I couldn't remember which. Suddenly I had 
a visual image of the two corners I've made.' 

Both here and in the following there is a combination of knowledge 
' that so and so is so and so ' and a memory of the sense particular. 

' The blue one. I've a visual image of this, not definite ; also I 
remember that there were three projections on the right, the centre 
one largest, the lowest one curved.' 

To return to my purpose in referring to these studies : To explain what I 
find I need to draw on explanatory principles typical of each of the current 
schools. If I stress position in series and the influence of repetition on 
recall, I am using factors which would find their place in Behaviourism. 
Indeed, if I stress the influence of the present sensory pattern on the 
subsequent delayed recall, I may be using a factor which could fall under 
the conception of conditioning. Much of what I have said about the 
intrinsic characteristics of the pictures, objects and shapes which are 
best recalled is explicable in terms of organised sensory wholes, and some 
of these organisations seem to be simple data. On the other hand, many 
of the reproductions depend upon seeing relations, particularly the 
relation of likeness. ' Gestalt theories and noegenetic principles both 
have their place.' There is also evidence that likes and dislikes play 
their part, and that emotional factors influence forgetting and recall. 
If I separate form from colour in assessing the recall of the objects and 
shapes, am I confusing logical with psychological analysis and following 
the old view of elements ? In a certain sense, ' yes.' But if colour and 
form can be ill-mated in reproduction, must they not be psychologically 


as well as logically different aspects of recall ? If such recall is image 
creation under the influence of knowledge that, such changes need not 
surprise us. The logical analysis of experience involved in conceptual 
thinking furnishes us with simple ideas of form, colour, size, etc., simple 
ideas in Locke's ' logical ' meaning. These can enter into conceptual 
knowledge about objects, but they can also control image constructions 
built on the lines of perceptual patterns. Such image constructions are 
not in any literal sense reproductions of a particular sensory organisation 
and should not be explained by a theory of traces. The attempt to so 
explain all images entangles those which have their origin in the logically 
simple, — conceptual knowledge, with those which have their origin in the 
psychologically simple, — sensory experience. Greatly as memory is con- 
trolled by concepts, there are the cases which I feel I can only regard as 
re-creations of the original sensory pattern, genuine memory images. 
The painting anew on the mind seems directly conditioned by the original 
sensory experience. It is not an image constructed under the influence 
of knowledge that. 

Inadequate as this sketch is, I trust it may serve to support the claim 
that it is important to consider all the constructive hypotheses that are 
to be found in present-day psychology while continuing patient experi- 
mental work. We cannot perhaps go forward with the confident belief 
of the early pioneers that the solution of many problems lies close at hand, 
but we can possess their spirit of adventure and their enthusiasm for 

When we compare the constructive theories of psychology with those 
which light up physical science to-day, without envy and without shame 
we may echo Locke's words in his Epistle to the Reader : ' The common- 
wealth of learning is not at this time without master-builders, whose 
mighty designs, in advancing the sciences, will leave lasting monuments 
to the admiration of posterity : but everyone must not hope to be a Boyle 
or a Sydenham ; and in an age that produces such masters as the great 
Huygenius and the incomparable Mr. Newton, with some others of that 
strain, it is ambition enough to be employed as an under-labourer in 
clearing the ground a little, and removing some of the rubbish that lies 
in the way to knowledge.' 







The Habit of Growth of the Tree. 

Apical Growth and Radial Grmvth. 
Basipetal Cambial Activity from the Buds. 

I. Form. 

Branching in Softwood and Hardwood Trees. 

II. Structure. Cambial Growth and Vascular Differentiation 
in Softwood and Hardwood. 
Cambium and Vascular Differentiation in the Softwood. 
Cambium and Vascular Differentiation in the Hardwood. 

III. Function. The Movement of Water and Solutes in the 

Water Movement at Bud-break. 
Water Movement into the Expanding Foliage. 
The Contents of the Wood. 



Water Vapour. 
Sap Wood and Heart Wood. 
The Ascent of Sap. 
The Movement of Organic Solutes. 

Trees do not form a special botanical category ; they are often regarded 
as the special study of the forester rather than of the botanist, and they 
seem never to have formed the special subject of a presidential address 
in this Section. In 1894, however, when Prof. I. Bayley Balfour 
presided over Section D, upon the last occasion on which that Section 
included botanists as well as zoologists, forestry was the subject of his 

In making this his theme before a gathering of biologists, he laid 
emphasis upon the fact that the ' utilitarian side gave the first impetus 
to the scientific study of botany,' and that botany still had, in agriculture 


and forestry, its contribution to make in the service of mankind. He 
laid stress upon this because he felt that a recognition of its practical 
significance would vitalise botanical teaching, which was ' inclined to 
elaborate the minute detail of a part at the expense of its relation to the 
whole organism, and discuss the technique of a function more in the 
light of an illustration of certain chemical and physical changes than as a 
vital phenomenon of importance to the plant and its surroundings.' 
This tendency, Bayley Balfour argued, must be counteracted ' if botany 
is in the future to be aught else than an academic study, as it was of 
old an elegant accomplishment.' He sees the roots of the trouble in the 
failure of botanists, so far, ' to see the lines through which the subject 
touches the national life.' Bayley Balfour would possibly, therefore, 
have felt some sympathy with this effort to show that a study of the 
growing tree throws fresh light upon its form, structure and vital functions, 
and gives new meaning to the practices of the forester and horticulturist, 
whilst the details of structure which attract the attention of the worker in 
wood are also seen in new perspective. 

The Habit of Growth of the Tree. 

The tree is characterised essentially by prolonged vegetative growth 
and delayed reproduction. Green leaves add to the substance of a 
plant by their activity, whilst flower and fruit production exhaust it, so 
that during this prolonged period of vegetative activity the tree gains 
annually in substance. It is a further characteristic of the tree that each 
growing season sees this substance added as an increment of radial growth 
upon a woody branch system which increases no more in length. Each 
year also, emerging from the buds in which they lie concealed during 
the dormant season, the growing points of the shoot form new extension 
shoots bearing new leaves, although after flowering commences some of 
these growing points also form flowers. 

At first sight the extension growth of the shoots from the buds, and 
the formation of wood and bast on all the rest of the woody axis, seem 
two independent processes, but recent studies in the Leeds laboratories 
have convinced me that the key to the interpretation of the behaviour of 
the growing tree is to be found in the fact that these two processes are 
inseparably and causally connected. This statement must first be justified , 
and then it is hoped to show that, regarded from this angle, problems of 
form, structure and function connected with the growing tree reveal an 
entirely new significance. 

Apical Growth and Radial Growth. — Two great classes of plants, the 
Dicotyledons and the Gymnosperms, are characterised, by growth pro- 
cesses which continue to thicken the axis of the shoot after it has extended 
in length. In these two groups are found the two characteristic tree 
groups, the hardwoods in the Dicotyledons, the softw.oods in the Gymno- 
sperms. To each great group also belong plants which are not trees, 
the Dicotyledons in particular being predominantly herbaceous, but 
throughout both groups the axis increases in thickness, after it is first 
formed, by the continued growth of an internal cylinder of cells known 

K.— BOTANY 187 

as the cambium. This cambium consists of cells which grow and 
divide, as did the cells of the shoot apex which were thus responsible 
for the original growth of the shoot axis, and the cambium cells prove 
to be very closely related to the growing (meristematic) cells of the 

At the shoot apex two processes can be seen to follow one another in 
close succession. In this region the crowded leaf primordia, with the 
youngest nearest to the apex, are evidence that surface growth is in excess. 
Growth is here proceeding in a beautifully ordered manner, throughout 
a mass of similar meristematic cells. The shape of each cell is being 
determined by the mutual pressure their expanding semi-fluid contents 
exert upon each other, their plastic walls yielding readily to pressure, 
whilst cell expansion is due to the increase in amount of living protoplasm. 
The cells remain small because after a certain increase in size each cell 
divides into two new cells which behave in the same way. Just below 
the apex the leaf primordia are being dispersed along the shoot axis, as 
they increase rapidly in size, because here cell expansion by vacuolation 
is taking place, mainly in a longitudinal direction, in association with a 
series of cell divisions in which the new cell walls are formed at right 
angles to the length of the shoot axis. At this stage of cell growth, cell 
extension is rapid and largely due to the intake of water. The cell wall 
resists this rapid extension, so that neighbouring cells are no longer in 
mutual contact over their whole surface. Their walls separate from one 
another at all angles of contact, so that an intercellular space system now 
develops. This is at first full of sap but rapidly fills with air — a change 
that must exert a profound influence upon the further progress of growth 
in this tissue. In all probability the great longitudinal extension of the 
shoot tissues, which are composed of such vacuolating, dividing cells, is 
attributable to the properties of the cellulose wall, which resists expansion 
in some directions more than in others. 

Before shoot extension begins, the leaf primordia are crowded at the 
apex, with no indications of internodes between them. When cell 
extension and vacuolation, with continued cell division, lead to the 
development of the internode, all the cells of the leaf primordium and 
axis do not vacuolate simultaneously. In the median plane of the flattened 
primordium and in continuity with this, in the axis, in a region between 
vacuolating cortex and pith, the cells remain meristematic, continue to 
increase in size by increase in protoplasm and remain in contact with each 
other over their whole surface so that intercellular spaces are absent. 
These meristem cells are therefore behaving just like the apical meri- 
stematic cells, but they are now embedded in vacuolating dividing tissues 
which are extending mainly in a longitudinal direction. As a result 
their plastic walls are drawn out in a longitudinal direction, and we 
distinguish as procambium this strand of meristematic tissue in 
the leaf primordium together with its prolongation into a hollow 
cylinder or network in the extending internode. This procambium is 
however nothing but meristem such as is present in the surface of the 
shoot apex, which is still left as meristem when neighbouring cells 


But other changes are visible in the procambial tissue almost immediately. 
The outermost cells begin to vacuolate and diflFerentiate into protophloem 
elements with thickening of vv^all and ultimate loss of contents, the change 
being initiated from below upwards in continuity with the differentiated 
sieve-tubes of the vascular strands below. Then another change is 
noticed at the base of the leaf primordium ; on the inner (adaxial) side 
of the procambial strand cells begin to vacuolate and differentiate into 
lignified xylem elements, but even earlier the growth and division of the 
elongated meristem cells in the centre of the strand has taken a new form. 
These elongated cells at first expanded mainly in length, with the natural 
result that they subsequently divided by a transverse wall. These cells 
now grow more rapidly than can be allowed for in the longitudinal exten- 
sion of the system as a whole. As a result they increase in size in the 
radial and tangential directions and new cell divisions occur repeatedly in 
which the new cell walls are tangential in the axis and parallel to the 
flattened surfaces of the leaf primordium. These repeated tangential 
divisions in elongated meristematic cells are characteristic of the cambium, 
and their occurrence marks the change from procambium to cambium. 
The new cells formed by such divisions lie in radial files which are visible 
at a very early stage of shoot extension. Evidently, even during extension 
growth of the shoot, the meristematic cells of the cambium are growing 
more rapidly than the vacuolating dividing cells around them. The 
vacuolating cells cease to divide altogether as the intercellular space 
system around them fills permanently with air ; but the meristematic 
cells of the cambium lie between the differentiating vascular elements, 
from which supplies of sap still reach them along walls which are in close 
contact, or between which small intercellular spaces are only just developing. 
In the fully extended axis, therefore, the growth and division of the 
cambium cells still continues, the new walls being mainly in the tangential 
direction ; from the inner cells of the radial files thus formed, new 
xylem elements are differentiated, from the outer cells new phloem 

The tree is the outcome of the maintenance of this radial growth in 
the axis long after the leaf in which it was initiated has fallen, but it is 
essential to realise that this radial increase by cambial activity is in direct 
continuity with the normal meristematic growth of the shoot apex, and 
is initiated always, at successively higher levels in the extending shoot apex, 
at the base of each new leaf primordium. This fact is quite definite, 
and whilst the protophloem on the outside of the procambial strand 
always differentiates forwards into the shoot apex as an extension from 
previously differentiated elements below, cambial activity and xylem 
differentiation begin afresh at the base of each new leaf primordium and 
extend from thence downwards as the growth of the vacuolating and 
dividing tissue around them produces the axial extension we know as the 
internode. In each developing internode, therefore, cambial activity and 
xylem differentiation are most developed at the top of the internode, at 
the point of leaf insertion, and from thence diminish in amount 

So long as the internode is extending in length, the vascular elements 

K.— BOTANY 189 

differentiating from the cambium are pulled out during differentiation 
and are characterised as protoxylem and protophloem. It has only recently 
been realised that in many plants much, if not all, of this protoxylem 
differentiates from cells cut off in regular radial rows from the cambium, 
so that it is ' secondary ' in origin. After extension has ceased, the 
vascular elements, metaxylem and metaphloem, differentiate, without 
undergoing further extension, from the elongated cells cut off by tangen- 
tial division from the cambium. 

This process of radial growth continues in the axis as long as the leaf 
is active, being renewed in successive years when the leaf is evergreen ; 
but when the leaf dies the process does not necessarily stop. Higher on 
the axis are now developing new leaves ; new impulses to cambial activity 
and vascular differentiation are travelling basipetally downwards through 
the newly extending internodes, and these impulses do not cease to be 
effective at the base of an internode. On the contrary, they continue 
downwards into the fully extended internodes below, so that the cambial 
activity and proto-vascular elements of the upper internode are in direct 
and causal relation with the cambial activity and meta-vascular elements 
of the internodes below, and, so long as new leaves are growing at the 
apex, radial growth of the vascular tissues continues on the fully extended 
axis below. It is the essential feature of the tree habit of growth that 
this radial growth of the vascular system does not cease at the base 
of the current year's shoot, but continues as a similar impetus to 
new radial growth, from the base of the growing bud down over the 
surface of the wood throughout the permanent woody axis of the 

Basipetal Cambial Activity from the Buds. — So long ago as 1862 Th. 
Hartig pointed out, in the willow, that the new cambial activity on the 
dormant woody twig began at the base of the buds and worked from 
thence basipetally downwards, and that this original direction of growth 
continued in a willow cutting even when the twig was inverted. The 
significance of this observation does not appear to have been realised 
at the time, and the fact was rediscovered recently and attention drawn 
to it by several workers. Using ordinary anatomical methods, it is a very 
tedious task to determine where cambial activity is renewed in the 
spring, and it is not surprising that statements upon the subject are very 
contradictory. During the last few years detailed studies of two species, 
one hardwood and one softwood, by two Leeds workers, Mr. G. 
Cockerham and Dr. W. Wight, have shown that in both the first inception 
of cambial activity on the woody axis is to be found at the base of the 
buds, and from thence cambial activity and vascular differentiation spread 
basipetally downwards throughout the tree. Many thousands of sections 
had to be examined to establish these facts. Fortunately in the present 
year a new and simple method of following the renewal of cambial 
activity has been found, which has rapidly extended the range of our 

In the resting condition the cambium cells on the surface of the old 
wood seem to be relatively firm in texture. They are then very granular 
in appearance with somewhat thick walls, and are bound firmly between 


the surfaces of the wood and bast, so that the bark will not ' slip.' The 
first sign of renewal of cambial activity is a change in the consistency of 
the cambial cells. Their contents become much more transparent and 
apparently semi-fluid, and the bark now ' slips ' easily upon the surface 
of the wood, separating from it at this plastic cambium layer. But if the 
bark is peeled off a little later, after a few divisions in the cambial cells 
have taken place, then the separation still takes place at the cambium 
layer, and as most of the newly formed cells have usually been cut off to the 
inside of the cambium, these now lie in a thin film on the firm surface 
of the old wood. These new cells have thin walls and fluid contents and 
can readily be stripped off the surface of the old wood. In this manner 
long strips of tissue newly formed from the cambium, in which proto- 
plasmic streaming has frequently been seen and in which early stages 
of vascular differentiation are readily visible, can be stripped from the 
surface of the old wood with the greatest ease. By the use of this method 
it has been possible to follow the resumption of cambial activity in a 
number of species of both hardwoods and softwoods. 

The results will be presented in detail elsewhere, but the general 
result is a complete confirmation of the conclusion that the renewal of 
cambial activity upon the surface of the old wood depends upon the 
commencement of growth in the buds. Such cambial activity always 
begins beneath the buds and spreads from thence basipetally downwards. 
In the softwoods the basipetal spread of cambial activity is extremely 
rapid. In some hardwoods, as oak, ash, sweet chestnut and elm, it is 
also extremely rapid, but in others, as in sycamore and horse chestnut 
and many of the Rosacea;, the downward spread of cambial activity is 
much slower. In birch, beech and alder again, the buds have burst 
and the leaves emerged before there is any sign of cambial activity 
spreading down the twigs ; but as the extension growth begins in the new 
shoots, cambial activity appears on the woody shoots beneath the buds 
and spreads from thence relatively rapidly down the tree. The varied 
details of this process have proved exceedingly interesting, and there is no 
doubt that the new method has much to tell us of the characteristics of 
radial growth in different trees . The ring-porous type of wood characteristic 
of oak, ash and elm is evidently connected with the rapid and early spread 
of cambial activity and vascular differentiation down the axis, whilst the 
diffuse-porous type of wood of beech links with its later basipetal spread 
of cambial activity. At the moment however, we must be content to empha- 
sise the significance of the general conclusion that the resumption of 
radial growth of the trees is almost completely dependent upon the 
commencement of growth in the buds. With this clue to their interpre- 
tation, the problems of form, structure and function presented by the 
tree are seen in quite a new light. 

I, Form. 

We can only indicate, by discussing one or two examples, how tree 
form is dominated by this causal link between bud development and 
radial growth. One familiar horticultural operation demonstrates the 

K.— BOTANY 191 

point beautifully. When a branch is pruned it is the invariable rule that 
the cut is made just above a bud, not just below one. As a result no 
piece of stem is left projecting beyond the uppermost bud on the pruned 
branch. The reason is that practical experience has shown that any such 
projecting length of stem, above the influence of any bud, makes no further 
growth but withers or rots into an unsightly ' snag ' — clear evidence that 
cambial activity from the buds is only basipetal and that it cannot re- 
commence in a region of the woody axis which has no living bud above it. 
All forestry practice is really based upon this fundamental fact. When 
growth starts in the tree, the buds in the light are moving first, and if 
their growth is sufficiently vigorous, buds on lower branches shaded by 
neighbouring trees may never resume growth. Such lower branches 
fail to make any radial growth also and lose their supplies of water and 
food to the vigorously growing regions of the crown and trunk. It is the 
tacit recognition of this fact that underlies the system of close planting 
to obtain straight-shafted timber — a system which meets a rather different 
problem in the different branching habits shown by softwood as com- 
pared with hardwood trees. 

Branching in Softwood and Hardwood Trees. — In the softwoods, as in 
Abies, Picea, or young pines, the branching habit of the tree is usually 
singularly regular, a whorl of branches starting each year from buds left 
in the axils of some of the uppermost leaves on the shoot of the previous 
year. In the spring, growth activity begins in all the apical buds of leader 
and branches at about the same time. In the leader and the youngest 
branches radial growth is thus stimulated and progresses down the stem 
very rapidly and at about the same rate ; but in older branches, and 
progressively as the branches grow older, the downward propagation of 
cambial activity becomes slower and slower. As a result, when in the 
main stem radial growth is already well advanced — because differentiation 
of new wood, when once begun, proceeds very rapidly — the bases of the 
lower branches joining the stem still show no signs of radial growth. The 
new wood formed on the main stem runs downwards in a loop closely 
encircling the previous year's wood of the branch, which runs radially 
inward through it, the two tissues having no continuity at all. Later, 
when new wood formation begins at the base of the branch the new wood 
is continuous with the downward running elements of the new layer of 
wood still forming on the axis. Still lower on the main axis, especially 
when shaded by neighbouring trees, branches will be found in which the 
radial growth of the branch does not recommence because the apical bud 
does not grow. These lower branches lose their sap to the growing 
trunk. Around the dry wood of such branch-bases flows increment after 
increment of the wood formed on the main axis. But the branch is usually 
set at an angle to the main stem ; each new layer of wood is forming from 
above downwards, and expanding outwards with irresistible force against 
the dried and brittle base of the branch, lifting up the dead bark which 
clothes it, throwing this into folds around the base of the branch to which 
the bark is firmly fixed, and ultimately straining the dry tissue so much 
that the branch is broken off. New increments of wood still flow around 
the base of the broken stump of wood until they cover it over completely. 


All that is now left as external evidence of the presence of the branch is 
the scar where the bark has healed over the stump, and the folds in the 
bark around this scar where the bark has been thrust outwards against 
the base of the stem. But within the wood of the trunk, below the scar, 
the branch stump is left to form a loose knot when planks are cut from this 
region because of the way the wood of the branch has simply been gripped 
in the flanks of the vertically running fibres of the wood of the main stem. 
Still further within the tree the branch wood has more continuity with the 
wood of the trunk, but still remains a tapering, radially directed 
cone with its fibres, in the main, running radially inwards, distinct 
from the downwardly running fibres of the main axis. This is 
particularly clearly shown when the wood of the main axis rots away 
leaving the tapering branch end pointing into the hollow centre of the 

In the hardwood, the beginnings of radial growth similarly wait upon 
apical growth, but the branching is less mathematical in its regularity 
and there is no constant succession of longer and larger branches regularly 
spaced along the axis. Usually radial growth is proceeding at the same 
time on main stem and branch stem and a continuous layer of wood is 
laid down smoothly on all sides of the branch-base, in closest continuity 
with the wood of the main axis. Here again however, if light does not 
reach them, lateral branches lower on the tree will fail to make any 
extension growth ; radial growth will then also fail in them and these 
branches will dry and die. Then successive increments of wood upon 
the main axis will thrust against the bark where it is held tight around the 
bases of the dead dry branches, and thus ultimately strip the lower part 
of the trunk of such branches, the stumps of which will promptly be 
buried under the new layers of wood, with only the branch scars and their 
attendant folds in the bark as evidence of their presence. When these 
stumps are brought to light as knots in planks they will usually be very 
firm because of the different manner in which wood of branch and main 
axis made union, and because under high forest conditions the lateral 
branches die and fall off young, leaving no dead stub of wood to be buried 
in the wood of the main axis. Only when older branches have been cut 
off by the forester in such a manner as to leave projecting stumps are these 
likely to be buried and reappear as loose knots in the planks cut from the 

Although the hardwood has not the mathematical regularity of branch- 
ing characteristic of the softwood, its branch system is usually built 
up upon an ordered plan. The case of poplar may be described as 
an interesting example in which, as in oaks, the natural abscission of 
branches contributes to the rapid simplification of the branch system. 

The vigorous vegetative seasonal shoot of a poplar bears many buds, 
of which the terminal one normally makes very vigorous growth the follow- 
ing season. The next few buds remain dormant. Then follow a group 
of buds which grow out into vegetative shoots, the uppermost of these 
usually being the stronger and the lower ones progressively weaker until 
again buds are reached which remain dormant. Cambial activity in these 
various shoots shows some proportionality to their vigour of growth ; in 


K.— BOTANY tgj 

the strong lateral shoots the basipetal impetus to cambial activity moves 
strongly down to the base of the shoot and on to the main stem, so that 
the shoot is subsequently firmly bound to the main axis by differentiated 
and lignified vascular elements common to them both. In weakly growing 
shoots basipetal cambial activity is weak and carries over little, if at all, 
into the main stem, to which this shoot has as a result but little lignified 
vascular attachment. Then as the parent axis enlarges under the 
vigorous impulse to radial gro^vth reaching it from the vigorous terminal 
shoot and contributed to by the more vigorous branches above, the weaker 
lateral twigs, as they continue to make little or no lateral growth, are forced 
off by a perfectly natural process of abscission which leaves a clean scar 
on the surface of the parent axis. These twigs thus gradually disappear 
from below upwards, leaving in the leafy crown a scaffold of stronger 

Later in life, probably after thirty or forty years of vegetative growth, 
flowering begins on lateral shoots in which only the apical bud continues 
a relatively weak vegetative growth. The buds immediately below this, 
and all other buds except perhaps a few of the most basal ones, develop 
flowers, and these flower-producing buds contribute nothing to the 
cambial activity of the axis ; in fact, as they draw food from it they 
probably diminish the vigour with which the basipetal impulse to cambial 
activity travels down the stem from the terminal bud. Such shoots 
usually make a most inadequate vascular connection with the axis that 
bears them. The parenchyma amongst the woody tissue is in excess and 
contributes to a swollen base which, strained by the girth expansion of 
the more vigorous axis it joins, is abscissed after some years of flowering, 
even though the branch thus abscissed is fifteen to twenty years old. 
In some species of poplars and oaks, in England, the ground beneath the 
trees is thus carpeted each autumn with a crop of still fresh, sappy 
branches, self-pruned from the distal branch system, the rounded bases 
of the abscissed branches and the cup-shaped scars on the branches that 
bore them bearing witness to the natural manner in which they have 

II. Structure. Cambial Growth and Vascular Differentiation 
IN Softwood and Hardwood. 

It is clear that the branch system of the tree is mainly determined by 
the close relation that exists between shoot growth and radial growth. 
Only when the bud is still making extension growth and producing new 
leaves will the woody stem beneath it increase in thickness and remain 
a functional member of the woody crown. The slender twig still shows 
evidence, in contour and leaf scars, of the series of nodes and inter- 
nodes laid down during shoot extension, but in later years the smooth 
addition of each new radial increment, spreading basipetally downwards 
from new leafy shoots above and independent of any local influence, 
gradually obliterates all trace of node and internode, whilst the repeated 
cracking of the bark as the stem thickens may make it impossible to trace 
the original leaf scars. This region of the woody shoot now forms an 


integral portion of the woody axis, but the texture of the wood is still 
determined by growth characteristics of the cambium which are linked 
in the closest manner with its origin at the shoot apex, and which are 
strikingly different in softwoods and hardwoods. 

Conifer and Dicotyledon have very different types of shoot apex. The 
Conifer bears narrow leaf primordia, many often growing simultaneously 
at the apex (the seedling often has many cotyledons), and most of the 
subsequent grovvth of leaf and subtending segment of the axis is in a 
vertical direction. The Dicotyledon usually has few primordia sharing 
the growing apex, with a broader leaf primordium, and the seedling has 
two cotyledons. The subsequent growth of the primordium, whilst 
mainly longitudinal, also includes considerable tangential expansion. 
With these differences may be connected the contrast between the long 
narrow cambium initials of the Conifer (Fig. i), which thoroughly deserve 
Bailey's term of ' fusiform,' and the shorter Dicotyledon initials which 
are often not fusiform but more, as Fig. 2 shows, like elongated meristem 
cells which have retained their original polygonal faces. These charac- 
teristic forms of the cambial cells have a very distinct bearing upon the 
differences in the elements cut off from them— differences which affect 
the grain of the timber and which are well known to all workers in wood, 
who distinguish sharply between the properties of the softwoods with 
their uniform grain and freedom from vessels, and the more varied hard- 
woods with vessels, fibres, etc., variously distributed throughout their 

We will now briefly examine the relation of these structural features to 
their formation from the cambium, as this tissue resumes activity when 
growth recommences in the buds. 

Cambium and Vascular Dijferentiation in the Softwood. — In tangential 
longitudinal view, ends of adjacent fusiform initials never lie at the same 
level. Evidently as the cambial cylinder grows in size and the initials 
in the periphery increase in number, new initials do not arise by longi- 
tudinal radial division. Tangential divisions do not add to the number 
of cells in the periphery, and the only other divisions that have been seen 
are transverse divisions, when the two new cells are separated by a some- 
what oblique cross wall. This wall rapidly assumes a more oblique or 
vertical position, so that it is usually assumed that the two daughter 
initials have glided past one another by ' sliding grovrth.' In view of the 
plastic walls and liquid contents of these meristematic initials it is difficult 
to understand how they readjust their relative positions by sliding past 
one another, whilst such a process is also difficult to reconcile with the 
presence of plasma connections and pits on the radial walls of the vascular 
elements differentiated from the cambium. Further, if the alteration in 
the relative position of any two cambial initials with time is followed in 
the only possible way — viz. by studying the relative displacement of the 
radial files of tracheids in the woody axis — then such sliding growth does 
not appear to be a necessary assumption. The tracheids in any radial 
file, traced outwards through the wood, grow longer but undergo little 
or no vertical displacement, so that the cambium initial that has been present 
all along on the outer tangential face of this file has grown longer but 




Fig. 2. 
({ X 60.) 





Fig. I. — Cambial initial 
of Finns. ( X 60 

— Cambium initial of Pinus drawn as a 

object. ( X 60.) Its position on the 

surface of the wood is indicated. The 

is redrawn upon a larger scale. 

•Cambium initial of Laburnum and 

Sycamore. ( x 60.) 


has not shifted upwards or downwards as a whole. When the file of 
tracheids doubles, through the transverse division in the cambium 
initial, the new files of tracheids are at first nearly superimposed vertically, 
but as the two initials grow in length, the cross wall between them 
becomes more tilted, especially in the tangential direction, so that the two 
files of tracheids cut off from them come to lie more nearly side by side. 
The readjustments in relative position of the two daughter initials, on 
the face of the files of tracheids, may take place without slip, in view of the 
liquid nature of the cell contents and the plastic nature of their walls, 
which allows of a relatively rapid extension of the new ' three-ply ' 
cellulose-pectin-cellulose division wall as it moves into a more vertical 

Reasons have been given elsewhere for thinking that these relatively 
minor readjustments of position in the cambial cells, as the cambium 
cylinder grows wider, thus take place by ' symplastic ' movement of the 
common framework of walls of the fusiform initials, which thus continue 
to grow and spread tangentially between the rays. The latter act as fixed 
points because they are formed of vacuolated cells which extend through 
to the differentiated vascular tissues on either side. When grovvth in the 
cambium is renewed in the spring, if the impetus to grovvth and tangential 
expansion reaches one point first at any level in the cambium cylinder 
and spreads from thence gradually round the cylinder, this plastic wall 
framework of the initials will tend to undergo an oblique displacement 
as a whole. The result, when the new pattern is repeated in the wood, 
will be the production of ' twisted fibre ' or ' spiral grain.' This is a 
phenomenon that frequently thrusts itself upon the attention of the 
forester and worker in wood. 

In the early summer quite a number of tracheids in the same radial 
file are in course of differentiation, and the radial expansion of these 
vacuolating elements must exert a very considerable pressure upon the 
plastic meristematic cambium initials outside them, which thus remain 
radially compressed and seem to become even more elongated in the 
young tree each year as the vigour of radial growth increases. This radial 
pressure was very vividly brought home to us when we were stripping the 
young differentiating tissue off the old wood. When a thick layer of 
differentiating tracheids was present, as the knife scraped these tissues a 
fine spray rose from their surface to a height of more than a foot. This 
phenomenon has only been noticed with the softwoods, and supplies the 
clearest evidence of the pressure under which the liquid contents may be 
held in the vacuolating tissues. 

Cambium and Vascular Dijferentiation in the Hardwood. — Bailey has 
pointed out that the cambia of the Dicotyledons may be grouped in 
different categories in which, as the initial becomes less elongated, the 
specialised development of wide vessel segments and elongated fibres 
becomes more pronounced. The shorter cambium initial shows an 
obvious correlation with the broader leaf primordium and diminished 
longitudinal extension of the original meristem cells. In very short 
cambial cells division walls, which are originally nearly transverse, will 
not be pulled out into an oblique or nearly vertical position by the sub- 

K.— BOTANY 197 

sequent elongation of the cambium initial but will remain nearly transverse. 
As a result, when the cambial initials are short, it is impossible for their 
number to increase at any one level in the cambium cylinder in the manner 
described for the softwood cambium. Instead, the cambium cells increase 
in mass in a tangential direction and are then divided by a radial longi- 
tudinal wall. When this process has been in progress for some time 
the cambium naturally has a ' stratified ' appearance, when viewed in 
longitudinal tangential section, as the ends of the cells derived from 
one another will all be at the same level. Bailey has pointed out 
that such stratified cambia are characteristic of hardwoods with 
relatively short cambial initials, and that they are associated with a 
marked contrast between the length of the vessel segments and the 
fibres in the wood differentiating from the products of cambial 

In many hardwoods the cambium initials are not so short, new division 
walls which are originally nearly transverse do subsequently become 
oblique, and so the number of initials in the cambial cylinder multiplies 
without radial longitudinal division and the cambium does not become 
stratified. None the less, even these initials are shorter on the average 
than those found in the softwoods, and, in the products formed from the 
cambium on the inner and outer surfaces, as the result of the usual 
tangential divisions, the differentiating elements begin with walls at top 
and bottom which are relatively transverse. There are a few rare 
exceptions. For example, in Drimys and Trochodendron , genera of the 
Southern Hemisphere, the fusiform initials average more than four 
millimetres in length, no walls appear to be specially transverse and no 
vessels are subsequently differentiated. 

In almost all other hardwood genera the original fusiform initials are 
comparatively short, the elements differentiating from them have walls 
that, even if oblique, are relatively transverse, and when these elements 
begin to vacuolate, the collapse of this wall leads to the formation of a 
vessel . For when vacuolation commences , as the cell expands transversely , 
expansion of a cell just below follows immediately and the transverse 
walls between them, thus violently stretched, suddenly perforate, so that 
the contents of the two cells coalesce. This happens with great rapidity 
throughout a long chain of cells, and the common tracheal element 
thus formed, which may be very long indeed, ultimately thickens and 
lignifies its wall, loses most of its protoplasmic contents and becomes a 

It is very frequently assumed that these perforating cross walls are 
gradually digested, but this assumption becomes untenable when the 
differentiating tissues are examined by the new method. Very long strips 
can readily be peeled off the surface of the old wood in spring in which these 
differentiating vessels can be traced for long distances. It then becomes clear 
that the vacuolation which expands a series of vessel segments takes place 
with extraordinary rapidity in cells whose walls are in a very thin ' primary ' 
stage. Even in these preparations, in which the course of the differ- 
entiating vessel can be followed, stages in perforation are very difficult 
to find. There can be no doubt that the process occurs absolutely 


suddenly, in a long series of cells that lie more or less vertically beneath 
one another, and that it is associated with a very rapid expansion in the 
size of the future vessel segments. The walls of these elements subse- 
quently thicken and lignify. Unfortunately the polarising microscope 
can only tell us about the structure of the thickened wall, and no cross 
walls are thickened before perforation. In Fraxinus it has been possible 
to examine cross walls with comparatively small perforations and with 
a thickened rim. The arrangement of the cellulose micelles in this 
thickened region certainly suggests that if they were arranged similarly 
in the original primary wall they would offer minimum resistance to 

It is interesting to examine more closely the magnitudes involved in 
the expansion of a hardwood vessel segment as compared with a softwood 
tracheid. The softwood fusiform initials are so much longer that their 
volume exceeds that of a hardwood initial , but this volume relation may 
be reversed during differentiation. Details of the calculations are omitted, 
but it is estimated that in Scots pine an average cambium cell of 
length 3-2 mm. has a volume of about 0-00014 cubic mm. In wych elm 
the cambium cells are about 0-2 mm. long with a volume of about 
0-000013 cubic mm. The expansion of the tracheid in the pine is almost 
entirely radial and a spring tracheid may expand to about 7-5 times 
its original radial diameter, so that its new volume is of the order of 
0-00105 cubic mm. The vessel segment of the wych elm expands to 
a roughly circular structure. Quite an average diameter for such a seg- 
ment would be o - 1 mm., which gives a vessel segment of length o • 2 mm. 
a volume of 0-0016 cubic mm. Such an average vessel segment may 
have a volume of the same order of magnitude as a softwood tracheid, 
but compared with the cell from which it was derived, it has attained 
its new dimensions by an enormously greater transverse expansion, in 
this case some 120 times as compared with 7-5 times. 

It seems natural to link this greater expansion with the early collapse of 
the transverse wall. The collapse of this wall is associated with the fact 
that a number of cells vertically beneath one another vacuolate almost 
simultaneously. Possibly the stretching of the wall accelerates the 
vacuolation of the element immediately beneath in each case, so that the 
impetus to vacuolate spreads more rapidly downwards beneath a differ- 
entiating vessel. This would help to explain the other characteristic that 
distinguishes differentiation in a hardwood from the process in a softwood. 
In the hardwood the cells formed from the cambium at the same time, and 
therefore lying in the same tangential plane, do not vacuolate simultane- 
ously. Some vacuolate before others, and these are always the cells which 
lie beneath differentiating vessel segments above. But the result is that 
their expansion can take place at the expense of the plastic elements around 
them, which are compressed into more elongated elements, and may later 
differentiate into fibres, or in some cases they vacuolate as they are 
compressed, as in the oak, where the vessel is surrounded by curiously 
contorted tracheids. 

In this argument we see the vessel as a natural consequence of 
the vacuolation of tissue elements which have transverse walls, and 

K.— BOTANY 199 

the fibre as the natural corollary of the rapid basipetal spread of this 
tendency to expand in the files of elements which will form the 
vessels. The fibres are often compressed to a length several times that 
of the original cambium initials. It is concluded, from the evidence as 
to correspondence of pits, that these future fibre elements deform under 
compression in a symplastic manner, their walls changing position as 
a common framework. As the cambial activity begins in the leaf trace 
and proceeds thence basipetally downwards, vessel segments are also 
added in succession basipetally and the compression of the tissue between 
the vacuolated vessels and rays also takes place in the same basipetal 
sequence. Thus a wedge of expanding differentiating tissue spreads 
downwards, on the surface of the old wood, inside the growing and 
dividing cambium, which is carried outwards upon this living and ex- 
panding framework without undergoing much direct radial pressure and 
without an appreciable increase, as a rule, in the length of the individual 
cambial initials. 

In this manner the surface of the wood is clothed throughout its 
length with a new layer of wood, which originates and spreads from the 
base of the extending foliage shoots, and which consists of thin walled 
wood elements in which vessels are relatively numerous. But when the 
leaves are fully expanded and are busily engaged in photosynthesis, a good 
proportion of the new tissue formed from the cambium is phloem, whilst 
the new wood elements have much thicker walls and the vessels are not 
so prominent. This rhythm of structural differentiation builds up the 
annual ring which, in temperate climes, where foliar expansion all takes 
place at a definite season, forms such a characteristic feature of the annual 
increment of wood. This growth and differentiation of new secondary 
tissues, in such close connection with leaf expansion and physiological 
activity, cannot fail to have a great influence upon the growth and func- 
tional activity of the new leaf system. Curiously enough, although the 
attention of many observers has been attracted by the problems presented 
by the maintenance of the water supply to the leaves at the top of a tall 
tree, and by the removal of the products of photosynthesis from the 
leaves for the nourishment of the rest of the tree, including the root 
system, these problems are usually considered as if detached from the 
phenomena of growth in the tree. We have noticed already that if the 
buds on the lower branches fail to grow, cambial activity also fails in 
these branches, which thereupon dry, losing their water, if not their food 
supplies, to the regions in the tree which are still growing. It is clear 
that any interpretation of water and food movement in the tree must be 
inadequate which neglects to consider these problems in relation to 
growth and differentiation, and these problems will now be briefly 
reconsidered from this standpoint. 

III. Function. The Movement of Water and Solutes in 

THE Tree. 

Water Movement at Bud-break.— The opening of the buds in spring 
must be associated with the movement of water into their tissues. In 


an English spring this might mean the movement of water from the soil 
through the activity of the root system, but in Rhodesia for instance, 
where the spring foliage expands in early August over a dry soil in rainless 
weather, the essential water movement must be from the branch to the 
bud. Sachs long ago drew attention to a simple experiment which 
suggests that such a movement of water will take place with rising tempera- 
ture. In spring, when a woody branch is either dipped in hot water or 
placed in a vacuum, the expansion of air in the tracheae will drive water 
freely to the cut surfaces of the wood, especially of the youngest sap wood. 
In the intact tree, therefore, a rise of temperature will drive water to the 
ends of the tracheal system of the youngest sap wood which are to be 
found, as a result of their method of differentiation, either at the leaf 
scars or in the tracheal systems of the buds. At the leaf scars these ends 
are blocked, so that all this water movement following upon rise of 
temperature must find its goal in the buds which now resume their 

But, as Pringsheim has emphasised, when such a grovirth centre resumes 
activity it is capable apparently of drawing water from any other portion 
of the plant, and is the last to suffer from lack of water when supplies 
are deficient. Thus even when the older leaves are wilted the growing 
point may continue active and leaf primordia expand in size through the 
Vacuolation and division of their cells. The mechanism drawing water 
to such a growing point requires further elucidation, but a contributory 
cause is ainjost certainly the osmotic system provided by the differentiating 
vascular elements. In the bud in spring, between dormant cambial cell 
and fully differentiated xylem element, are always left elements which are 
not fully differentiated, whilst throughout the woody axis the dormant 
cambium usually lies directly against fully differentiated and lignified 
wood. As the water exiters the buds in spring the first visible change is 
the swelling of these partly differentiated elements between cambium 
and wood, and water is obviously attracted by the osmotic forces within 
them. The shoot meristem as a whole now recommences growth, and 
cambial activity spreads downwards to the base of the bud and into the 
dormant cambium lying upon the surface of last year's wood. But as 
the cambium thus awakens into life, this layer and the newly formed 
tissues arising from it must be withdrawing water from the woody 
tissues within. This will be true of both hardwood and softwood, 
but it is particularly clear in the case of vessel differentiation in the 
hardwood. ' 

In the leafy shoot of the hardwood are found differentiated, lignified 
vessels, with cross walls all perforated and no protoplasmic contents, so 
that if they contain sap under pressure it will flow out through the per- 
meable lignified wall into the surrounding tissues. Traced downwards 
this vessel system is in direct continuity, in the tissues growing upon the 
surface of the old wood, with a vessel system which still contains proto- 
plasm and in which water is accumulating under osmotic pressure sufficient 
to force outwards the still plastic walls. This liquid, thus accumulating 
under pressure, becomes continuous suddenly (with the collapse of the 
cross walls and the coalescence of the liquid contents of the originally 



separate cells) with the liquid in the vessel in the leafy shoot, from which 
it is separated at most by a very occasional unperforated but permeable 
wall. Naturally, then, the water withdrawn from the old wood at the 
lower end of the system, by the differentiating elements which are there 
being added to the vessel system, is driven forward under pressure into 
the distal end of the tracheal system, where it is slowly released into the 
still growing tissues of the leafy shoot. 

The facts of anatomy and development are the clearest evidence that 
each differentiating vessel, common to both leafy shoot and woody axis, 
must thus transfer water from the woody axis to the growing shoot. The 
growth of the bud, especially the vigorous cell expansion in the growing 
tissues, is clear evidence that water is thus moving from the woody axis 
to the young shoot. The following considerations support the view that 
this water movement takes place under the impulse of a mechanism that 
is actuated by the growth and differentiation which begins in the bud 
itself and spreads from thence to the axis. 

Occasionally so much sap is driven into the vascular system of the 
young developing leaves that they ' weep ' from the tips of the veins ; 
the sap flows out of the veins, injecting the intercellular spaces in which 
it accumulates until it flows out through the stomata on the teeth near 
the termination of the veins. Such ' weeping ' is often spoken of as 
caused by root pressure, as it certainly is in the case of seedlings, but in 
the tree the connection with root pressure is very indirect. So long as 
root activity throughout the winter has accumulated sufficient water in 
the old wood, weeping may occur from the buds. It can be demonstrated 
in buds on twigs removed from the tree provided they are kept in warm 
saturated air. Th. Hartig has pointed out, in Carpinus Betulus particu- 
larly, a tree which shows both ' bleeding ' from the cut stump and 
' weeping ' from buds in the intact tree, that the two processes do not 
synchronise. In a particular season, ' bleeding ' from a cut stump 
began on February 22, but no buds were observed to ' weep ' until 
March 17. ' Bleeding ' occurred from g A.M. till midday each day, but 
' weeping ' began in the afternoon, was strongest at night and ceased 
about one hour after sunrise. The sap flow from the veins of the leaves 
in the buds, therefore, does not synchronise with the time of highest sap 
pressure, derived from root activity. 

Many points about bud development in the tree become much clearer 
when it is recognised that the movement of sap in these developing 
tissues depends so directly upon processes originating in the bud itself. 
All buds on the tree do not start into activity at the same moment ; well- 
developed buds in full sunlight open first, and as they draw off the supplies 
of water from the wood immediately adjacent we can understand why it is 
(i) that the buds immediately below the vigorously growing terminal 
bud of a poplar shoot remain dormant (p. 192), and (2) that the lower 
shaded branches on which the buds do not commence growth so soon, 
may never start into growth at all, unless the upper, vigorously growing 
buds are cut off by man or by a frost ; and that such branches, if the buds 
do not commence growth, lose water to the differentiating tissues in the 
main axis. 

H 2 


It is not easy to obtain further experimental proof of the presence of 
the osmotic systems connected with each developing bud, because they 
are so closely connected with processes of growth and differentiation and 
cease to operate if the experimental procedure prevents further growth. 
When the young bud is cut across, liquid can be seen to well out from the 
veins, but it is impossible to collect drops of this liquid which are not 
mixtures of sap from both wood and phloem. The sap in this differ- 
entiating wood is certainly much more concentrated than any recorded 
concentrations for the tracheal sap, but it must be remembered that all 
analyses have been made upon extracts which are drawn mainly from 
fully differentiated tracheae. Observers who have tried to distinguish 
between the sap from the outer and inner tracheae have always found 
that the sap from the outer and younger contains more solutes. In all 
cases where sap is collected from differentiating tracheae but little can 
be obtained, because when these elements are cut open and the sap released 
the processes of growth and differentiation come to an abrupt end ; the 
osmotic system thereupon soon ceases to function and no more sap collects. 
It is possible to collect small supplies of sap from the new tissues differen- 
tiating over the surface of the old wood in spring, and such samples in 
both hardwoods and softwoods have shown themselves more concen- 
trated than a 0-25 M cane sugar solution when tested by Bargers's 
method. In a drop from the differentiating tissues of the plane, 
the reducing substances after inversion, determined by the method 
of Hagedoorn and Jensen, were equivalent to about 2-6 per cent, 

Water Movement into the Expanding Foliage. — As the tracheal elements 
absorb water, as they differentiate in and beneath the bud, naturally 
their liquid contents are under pressure and are leaking outwards into 
the leaf tissues ; but as the foliage expands, evaporation from the larger 
surface rapidly removes any excess of water, and ' weeping ' cannot be 
detected long after sunrise even in young leaves. But evaporation will 
still continue during the day, so that the living cells of the leaf tend to 
withdraw water from the tracheae faster than it enters, with the result that 
the liquid contents of the tracheae are soon under tension. It is surprising 
how soon this condition of tension can be detected in the tracheal system 
of the expanding bud. If the bud is cut across under Indian ink, which 
contains a fine suspension of carbon particles, and the cut surfaces washed 
under running water, many of the tracheae will be seen to be injected 
with the ink. The injected tracheae will be found to be protoxylem 
elements of medium age. Older collapsed elements are not injected, and 
younger elements, still differentiating and containing liquid contents 
under pressure, are also not injected. In a young bud, a freshly cut 
surface, whilst showing ink in some injected vessels, will also show 
liquid welling from the bundles for a time because of the excess liquid 
still accumulating in the elements which were differentiating when the 
bud was cut across. 

The same phenomenon can be demonstrated in the case of the tracheae 
differentiating from the base of the bud over the surface of the old wood, 
the hardwood being naturally a more suitable subject for such experiments. 

K— BOTANY 203 

Phloem and bark can be easily removed, these tissues coming away at the 
plastic cambium layer without any damage to the differentiating vessels 
within. These vessels, and the older wood within, can now be pierced 
with a sharp knife through a drop of Indian ink placed on the surface of 
the cambium. The newly differentiating vessels are full of liquid at 
first and do not inject at all when so cut ; very often instead sap flows 
freely from them, though they never give off a fine spray when punctured, 
as the differentiating tracheae of the softwoods sometimes do. While 
they are thus found full of liquid, the vessels of the old wood immediately 
beneath them will be found to inject freely, which may be due to the 
withdrawal of water from these vessels by the differentiating elements 
forming outside them. This suggestion is supported by observations 
on the ash, in which the vessels are extraordinarily long, so that when 
they are cut open they cease to function throughout a great length of 
the tree. Beneath the surface of such punctured differentiating 
vessels the old wood has often subsequently failed to inject, whilst 
beneath undamaged differentiating vessels on either side it injected very 

A little later in the year (by June i this year in Leeds), the differ- 
entiated lignified vessels in the newly forming ring of wood inject freely, 
and from then onwards, as von Hohnel first pointed out, this evidence of 
a state of tension in the contents spreads gradually inwards, the vessels of 
progressively older and inner rings of sap wood injecting as the summer 

The Contents of the Wood. — Nowadays it is usually assumed that the 
tracheal elements remain full of water although their contents are under 
tension. In this case, each day that water loss from the tree by evapora- 
tion exceeds water entry by absorption, the tension must mount in the 
tracheal system and should reach extraordinarily high values. This 
possibility must now be more closely examined. In the first place it is 
clear that the structure of the tracheal system is such that air will not 
readily enter to displace the water, although air at approximately 
atmospheric pressure is present in the intercellular spaces that form 
a continuous system along the flanks of the rays, and which are in 
immediate contact with the tracheae and in communication, through 
the cambium, with the intercellular system outside and with the 
outside air. 

Air. — The only pores in the water-saturated wall of any element of the 
wood, including the hardwood vessel, through which gas might enter 
are the minute holes in the thin primary walls that run across the pits, 
which were originally filled by the plasmodesma strands. In the soft- 
wood Bailey has recently demonstrated the passage of gas and fine sus- 
pensions through these pores, and concludes that in Larix laricina they 
vary in diameter from 3[i to o-5(i.. The smaller pores here would need 
pressures of 5 • 8 atmospheres on either side of the wall in order to drive 
air through to displace water. Bailey actually drove air into the tracheids 
of Larix by using pressures below 3 atmospheres. In the hardwood the 
pores in the pits are certainly smaller : A. Meyer estimated their diameter 
at o-i5(ji, whilst Renner estimates them at less than OSV-- i" actual 


experiment we have failed to displace the liquid contents of closed hard- 
wood vessels by air, using pressures of 15 atmospheres. 

The displacement of water by air entering through these pores would 
not in any case be easy, and when it is remembered how they arise it 
will be seen to be practically impossible. The pores were filled originally 
by protoplasmic connections. These are found only connecting adjacent 
protoplasts, and only persist as pores in thin-walled pit areas where the 
original wood elements have not been displaced relatively during 

The pores, then, do not open on to intercellular spaces and are not in 
communication with the air of the intercellular system unless considerable 
splitting apart of the primary walls of adjacent tracheal elements has 
occurred ; such splitting only occurs, if at all, in dry heart wood in which 
the water movements are relatively unimportant. We may conclude then 
that the liquid contents of the tracheal elements may be under tension 
without the slightest likelihood of air being drawn in from the intercellular 
system of the wood to displace the liquid. 

Water.— Ent the tension upon the water contents of the tracheal 
elements must increase very rapidly if the water cannot be displaced by 
gas. When the water in a trachea is in tension, at points where the wall 
faces upon an air space the water will be withdrawn into the wall until 
the menisci are very concave and only a thin film of water, no longer free 
to move, covers the internal (inter-micellar) surfaces. This is not only 
true of the wall where it faces upon an air space, but the water in all the 
wall must be in equilibrium with this and will be withdrawn into the 
trachea until only a thin film is left. In the cohesion theory of the ascent 
of sap the high tension which must develop in the contents, if the tracheae 
remain full of sap, is held accountable for the upward movement of 
water in the tree. But this tension must isolate the liquid contents of 
the trachea, because the walls between this trachea and its neighbours 
will only have a water content in equilibrium with the walls bordering 
air spaces, and the movement of water across such walls, under the differ- 
ence of tension developed between the tracheal contents, will be very 
slow indeed. Indeed, as Schwendener and Nageli pointed out many 
years ago, when tensions develop the liquid contents of the tracheas are 
immobilised, with the result that the rate of evaporation from the mesophyll 
is cut down. 

Water Vapour. — Nevertheless, though the rate of evaporation falls 
on a sunny day with the water in the tracheae immobilised, if they all 
remain full of water the tensions developing in the tracheae near the 
leaves would be very high indeed. 

Experimental evidence however, such as was supplied originally by 
von Hohnel and Scheit, suggests that water vapour replaces water in many 
tracheal elements. As soon as a bubble of water vapour forms in any 
trachea, its water will be immediately free to move and dispersed into the 
surrounding tracheae in which tension will be released, and thus water 
remains available for the tracheae supplying the evaporating leaf without 
a great rise in the tension of their contents. 

The presence of tracheal elements containing water vapour may be 

K.— BOTANY 205 

beautifully demonstrated in the trunk of Fraxitius excelsior, in spring, 
when the newly formed vessels lie just below the cambium. These 
vessels are very long ; they have been traced, without a cross wall, for 
more than 25 ft., and they often have a diameter appro.ximating to 
o • I mm., so that they are readily seen with the naked eye. If the cambium 
is exposed and the vessels are then cut open under Indian ink or coloured oil, 
the liquid can be seen to enter, moving both upwards and downwards 
in the tracheae with an astonishing speed, often more than i ft. in 
three seconds. In this way vessels will rapidly fill often to a length of 
more than 10 ft. from the point of injection. As the liquid enters, there 
is no marked change in diameter of the vessel such as would suggest 
a great release of tension, and, if the vessel had been originally full of 
water, it is very difficult to explain where this water has been accommo- 
dated when it is so rapidly displaced, particularly as vessel after vessel 
can be injected, the liquid entering at practically the same speed. But 
that the vessel originally contains water under tension seems to be com- 
pletely negatived by a simple modification of this experiment. In most 
trees the vessels are much shorter, and many closed vessels in isolated 
branches, stripped of all leafy shoots, can be injected when they are cut 
open under suitable liquids. These injection experiments, carried out 
extensively in a different form by von Hohnel, seem to admit of no other 
interpretation than that, in many of the tracheal elements, as the leaf 
surface expands, water vapour displaces water. 

Sap Wood and Heart Wood. — Water vapour displaces water in the Ayood 
beneath the opening buds both in the old wood and in the new ring of 
wood in direct communication with the leaves ; and during the summer 
water vapour continues to displace water in the tracheae of the older wood 
throughout the axis, but is found first in the outer rings and then appears 
progressively further inwards. In the autumn water absorption exceeds 
evaporation even during the day, and the tracheae will begin once more 
to fill with water, save that if any air has accumulated from the water 
as the result of release from solution with rising temperatures, this air 
cannot be driven out but is only slowly redissolved. In the older rings 
of wood, where the tracheal content has fluctuated between water and 
vapour over many seasons, air has gradually accumulated, in some trees 
to a very considerable extent. This older wood is then often structurally 
modified, so that it is distinguished as heart wood from the relatively air- 
free sap wood, and the accumulation of air in the tracheae may prove to 
be causally connected with these structural changes. Such heart wood 
gives buoyancy to logs floating down streams to the lumber mill, because 
the air within the tracheae is not readily displaced, but it probably plays 
little part in the movement of water in the living tree, which takes place 
mainly through the sap wood. 

The Ascent of Sap. — Through the complex tracheal system of the 
sap wood the water supply is maintained to the foliage of even the 
tallest trees, and the facts reviewed in the previous section are relevant 
in this connection, though they do not in themselves supply a complete 
explanation of the mechanism by which this movement is brought 


The first movement of water into the bud seems to be brought about 
by osmotic systems consisting of differentiating tracheae developing in 
the bud itself and then extending dovs^n wards from the bud over the surface 
of the old wood. Then these new tracheal systems, as they lose water 
to the expanded foliage faster than it can be supplied, are able gradually 
to draw upon the water in the old wood through its displacement by 
water vapour, thus mitigating the tensions developing in the water columns 
in tracheae which remain full of water. Up till the end of the growing 
season, the water content of the wood shows that many tracheal elements 
in the sap wood remain full of water, and during the autumn and winter 
the tensions in these columns, as well probably as in the Hving parenchy- 
matous elements interspersed throughout the wood, may play a part in 
filling the remaining tracheal elements once more with water instead of 
water vapour. 

The problem is a difficult one — a tracheal system would obviously fill 
again with water to any height to which water could be driven by the 
pressures available in the root supply system, but at heights beyond this 
it is not at present clear how the tracheal elements are once more 

The present discussion of the problem, however, should serve to 
emphasise a consideration that is too little regarded at the present day. 
Water movement through the tree is associated with the grovith of the 
tree ; the mechanism of movement is inseparable from the processes of 
gro'Q^th and differentiation, and the movement is not equivalent to the 
passive flow of a liquid along a pipe driven either by a pressure below or 
a tension developing above. 

Within the tracheal sheet laid down in the current season, which alone 
has direct continuity with the leaves, is an inner core of sap wood which 
acts as a reservoir of water of which the contents fluctuate daily and with 
the seasons, under the influence of a supply and demand determined by 
the activities of the growing tissues of root and shoot. 

The Movement of Organic Solutes. — Finally we would suggest that the 
movement of solutes throughout the tree similarly cannot be adequately 
interpreted unless the grovi^th processes of the tree are borne in mind. 
The movement of inorganic solutes will not be considered ; the available 
data are too few, but one consideration is emphasised in relation to the 
organic substances which are manufactured by the leaves during their 
season of activity. Undoubtedly these substances are mainly transferred 
downwards from the leafy shoot to branches, trunk and roots, where they 
are stored. Both the path of transfer and the mechanism of movement 
are controversial subjects which cannot be fully examined here. There 
is very general agreement that the phloem plays a role in this movement, 
and much discussion centres around the problem as to how so much 
material can move through a tissue containing elements of such peculiar 
and characteristic structure as the sieve tubes. The data supplied by 
Ramann and Bauer show that the gain in dry weight of stem and root 
system takes place relatively late in the growing season. The point it is 
desired to emphasise is that this gain in dry weight appears to synchronise 

K.— BOTANY 207 

with a vigorous basipetal growth and differentiation of the phloem, which, 
Hke the earHer differentiation of spring wood, begins in the leafy shoot and 
spreads from thence downwards over the axis. The successive enlarge- 
ment and division of cells that lie below one another in the cambial 
cylinder, which must take place during this new formation of 
phloem, represents in itself a very considerable downward movement of 

The following very approximate calculation may be presented in this 
connection. In Fraxinus excelsior the structure of the phloem makes it 
practicable to remove it over small areas in fairly smooth tangential 
sheets. The fresh weight of a square centimetre of such a sheet, separated 
from the tree in April and containing the phloem formed in the two 
previous growing seasons, proved to be about 0-046 gram ; the dry 
weight o-oi8 gram. This phloem was taken from a small tree perhaps 
twenty to thirty years old, from the short main trunk which possessed 
about 14,000 sq. cm. of surface. The dry weight added to this trunk by 
the formation of phloem during one season's grovrth would then be of the 

order of -^ = 126 grams. Ramann and Bauer found that the 


increment of dry weight in the stem in one growing season, in 100 two- 
year-old ash trees, was about 2,437 grams, so that a single tree gained 
about 24 grams. In the older tree the increment of weight would be 
much greater, but when it is remembered that to the gain of weight due 
to the formation of phloem in the trunk has to be added that due to the 
new phloem on all the branches together with the formation of the thick- 
walled summer wood throughout the stem, then it would appear that a 
large proportion of the downward movement of organic solutes is effected 
during the actual growth and differentiation of these tissues, in which case 
the mechanism of movement would be closely linked with the basipetal 
mode of growth of the cambium. 

So long as the cambium is still growing and differentiation proceeding, 
the downward movement of organic material in the tree must be closely 
connected with these growth processes, and no mechanism of transfer 
which is independent of them can accurately represent the processes at 
work. It may be that subsequently, in fully differentiated sieve tube, 
companion cell, etc., translocation of food still takes place, but on the other 
hand, the structural features of the adult sieve tube may rather be analogous 
to those features in a dry river bed which supply evidence that it was once 
a channel along which a rapid current flowed. 

This brief review of some of the many problems presented by the form, 
structure and function of the growing tree has been presented, so far as 
possible, upon very general lines in an attempt to show that the issues 
thus raised, if primarily botanical, yet make a very wide appeal to our 
interests. A more detailed discussion of most of these problems will be 
found in a series of papers ^ in which citations of literature are given. 
It is hoped that this general statement has shown that the study of the 

^ ' Studies in the Physiology of Cambial Activity,' New Phytologist, 29, 1930. 


growing tree, whilst full of intriguing problems for the student of science, 
will not be without interest and profit to the forester and to all interested 
in growing trees. Furthermore, when we contemplate the texture of the 
wooden materials fashioned to our service, which surround us on every 
hand, it may add to our pleasure in them if we can link their structure 
and their properties with the story of the way in which they came into 
being during the life of the tree. 








The Function of Section L. — Some doubt exists as to the proper function 
of this Section of the Association. The group of men who, thirty-one 
years ago, threw themselves earnestly into the work of the Section were 
in the main interested in the teaching of science in schools of all grades. 
For some years our activities centred round the place in education of school 
science and its aims and methods. 

Strong committees of investigation were appointed, and in a few years 
valuable reports were published which have influenced profoundly the 
teaching of science in many English-speaking countries. Joint meetings 
to discuss with specialists of other sections the school-handling of their 
subjects were frequent. It is clear that in these early years the ' Old 
Guard ' — many of whom are still working with us — viewed the work of 
the Section as subject to these limitations and did not contemplate that still 
far-off objective — a Science of Education. In this latter direction we have 
made some progress : small-scale experiments under favourable conditions 
have discovered some truths. The valuable results of such experiments 
receive a narrow publicity, are seldom adequately or permanently recorded, 
and in a few years are forgotten and no longer available for the serious 
student of education. Too often these researches are interrupted by 
changes in the school staff or terminated by the growing pressure of 
external examination. As in other branches of science, we need a learned 
Education Society in whose transactions will be recorded permanently 
the results of original work and experiment in education. The annual 
reports of this Section for the past thirty years contain a wonderful record 
of investigation and thoughtful opinion which in its present form is 
inaccessible to any but the most determined inquirer. The time is ripe 
for the establishment of a clearing-house of educational effort such as 
was suggested at last year's meeting by Prof. Clarke in his advocacy of 
an Imperial Institute of Education. 

Need for Experiment. — Before we can cultivate a Science of Education 


we need more experiment deliberately conceived, skilfully conducted, 
accurately interpreted, and intelligently utilised ; for such experiments 
a soil cleaned of the weeds which to-day choke the growth of education 
is necessary. 

In recent years the Section has spread its net more widely over the too- 
placid seas of educational discussion, and although we have landed some 
queer fish, we have on the whole made valuable hauls. 

I do not propose in this address, as have many of my distinguished 
predecessors in office, to venture far into the field of general educational 
philosophy, but think it better to place on record the impressions and 
convictions that remain from a long contact with teaching, inspection 
and administrative problems. Nothing more is possible ; the worker 
in education can seldom conduct true experiments — he can only attempt 
remedies for existing evils, and this he must do often under conditions 
that he cannot control. 

Has School Science advanced? — I make no apologies for plagiarising 
the title of the Association for my address, but it seemed to demand a 
sub-title, and, believing that science and its method is the most needed 
force in education to-day, I have adopted for my purpose the character- 
istics of a force — magnitude, direction and sense. In case my use of the 
word ' sense ' may be regarded as frivolous, I may say I give to it no un- 
common meaning. 

From the earliest times scientific thinkers, almost without exception, 
have tilted with little effect against the academic and traditional training 
given in the schools of their time. The astounding developments of the 
last hundred years have moved the mass centre of human knowledge 
towards natural science and away from literary teaching. Has the centre 
of effort of our schools changed correspondingly, and is the magnitude, 
direction and common sense of the effort satisfactory under the new 
conditions ? 

We have, I think, recognised honestly this new distribution of the weight 
of knowledge, and during the past half-century have provided gradually 
a machinery through which these new educative forces may act. We 
must test, from time to time, the efficiency of our machine, and if we find 
it low, must reconsider its design and trace the causes of transmission 

Our Faith in Science Teachiftg. — We have urged the advancement of 
science in schools in the belief that training in its methods should produce 
habits of cautious and judicial approach to the problems that confront 
us, and would give us courage and self-reliance in attacking them. We 
believe that natural knowledge must inspire a reverence for the Creator 
only to be obtained by direct contacts, and that our ability to use this 
knowledge wisely adds greatly to our general efficiency and power for 

The outstanding value of a scientific training should be the develop- 
ment of a power of diagnosis, a quality essential to the majority of 
occupations. Consider for a moment how constantly a critical diagnostic 
faculty must be employed by the successful farmer, doctor, schoolmaster, 
housewife, architect, motor-mechanic or plumber ; yet how frequently 


failure and inefficiency in these trades and professions is due to an 
inability to apply scientific method to thought. 

Evidence of Progress. — What evidence have we that forty years of science 
teaching have produced the results for which we have hoped and striven ? 
Notwithstanding the fact that seven million of our population will invest 
hard-earned half-sovereigns in a sweepstake upon a horse race in which 
' the unexpected always happens,' I believe there are many signs of 
improvement in general intelligence and vocational keenness. Boys, 
and especially girls, are entering employments and facing with success 
responsibilities unthinkable at their ages in Victorian days. The soundest 
critics of the schoolmaster and his work are the pupils he has taught. 
Although a few boys, and more girls, say they hated science at school, 
the great majority in after life regard the subject with profound respect 
and regret the lack of fuller opportunity for its study. 

Admittedly the magnitude of science teaching in the schools is con- 
siderable ; how much is emerging in useful form .'' Are we satisfied with 
the understanding of the commonest occurrences displayed by the man 
in the street and the woman in her home ? Is not their childlike simplicity 
about such matters rather disturbing } To what percentage do such 
ideas as the burning of a fire, the nutrition of the body or the growth of 
a plant mean anything ? 

Among the general practitioners in the scientific occupations mentioned 
above do we not often detect lacuna of fundamental knowledge that 
would disgrace the average schoolboy ? We have yet to give the lie to 
Mr. Baldwin's recent epigram that ' the only permanent thing in life is 
human stupidity.' 

The schoolmaster of grammarian bent still looks askance at our efforts ; 
he cannot visualise our wider and more distant objective . With the ends he 
has in view we agree, but we cannot regard them as all-sufficient, nor con- 
sider his methods the most direct for the achievement of his own purposes. 
But the old antagonism between traditional and modern studies is break- 
ing down. In his presidential address to the Science Masters' Associa- 
tion this year. Dr. Cyril Norwood, Headmaster of Harrow, stated the case 
for science in the schools with cogency and sincerity ; his skilful diagnosis 
of the demands that life makes upon the product of our schools shows that 
a classical education is no barrier to scientific and courageous thinking. 

The provision for science instruction in secondary and other schools 
for pupils over fourteen years of age appears to be fairly general and 

Science in the Elementary School. — In the elementary schools little sub- 
stantial progress has been made ; here more than elsewhere the child is 
dependent upon the school for his educational equipment for life ; if he 
does not get some introduction to natural knowledge at school, he will find 
few opportunities later. Sound science teaching must not remain the 
prerogative of the child over fourteen years of age. In recent years I 
have had the opportunity, as an examiner, of assessing the value of the 
science instruction given in the elementary schools of most of the larger 
centres of population in the United Kingdom. Although I was dealing 
probably with selected cases the results were wholly depressing, and 


consultation with the teachers into whose hands successful candidates 
passed confirmed the poor impression I had formed of the quality and 
nature of the teaching. 

Twenty-four years ago, we said in a report of this Section that ' the 
child's time should be about equally divided between practical manipu- 
lative work and the ordinary lessons in reading, writing and reckoning.' 
In such practical work is included science, handwork and drawing. 

We have not taken science seriously in elementary education ; we must 
regard it as of the same fundamental importance as the three R's : the 
first subject of instruction should be the study of our immediate environ- 
ment. It is a serious reflection upon our system that our school output 
is incapable of thinking about its commonest experiences. 

Once we believe that natural knowledge should hold a foremost place 
in the curriculum for both boys and girls the difiiculties of reform are not 
great. The teachers are competent, or can be made so, and the cost of 
the simple equipment necessary is less than for other practical subjects. 

I could not speak so confidently if I had not conducted large-scale 
experiments in both England and Ireland. That both these experiments 
were subject to serious interruptions does not in the least affect their 
value. What has been done, can be done, and I am sure will be done 
again. I take this opportunity of expressing my appreciation of the fine 
work done by thousands of teachers who have proved beyond cavil that 
purposeful science teaching is both possible and effective in elementary 
schools, large and small. 

' Nature Study.' — The case for handwork has been won with incal- 
culable advantage to the people ; the cause of science, with its even 
greater possibilities for the creation of alert minds and power of initiative, 
has yet to be fought. Some confusion exists as to the use of the terms 
' Nature Study ' and ' Science.' It is important that they should be 
properly defined for school purposes, and the distinction between them, 
if it exists, should be made quite clear. ' Nature Study ' is an excellent 
term in that it expresses both the subject and the method, and, used as 
in America, would cover all elementary science up to the standard of the 
school certificate. In this country it is generally used to cover junior 
biological studies, but too often connotes aimless and incompetent 
teaching devoid of all experimental illustration. Natural knowledge, 
whether it relates to dead or living matter, is science, and I plead 
for courage to use the word wherever instruction is purposeful and 

Methods of Instruction. 

Aims of Science Teaching. — In educational discussion we hear vastly 
more about methods of instruction than we do about its purpose. We 
find a subject, ' Methods of Teaching,' presided over by a professor of 
Methodology ; there is no professor of aims and purpose. A method is 
merely a means of reaching an end already definitely enunciated ; any 
method that achieves its purpose successfully is a good one. Take care 
of your purpose and the methods will take care of themselves. We need, 


therefore, far less dogmatism about methods and far more emphatic 
definition of our objectives. 

The aims of science teaching are admittedly the aims of all sound 
education ; it must provide the pupil with that knowledge and those 
mental and personal characteristics that the demands of employment 
and leisure will make upon him. In this broad sense education must 
be directly or indirectly vocational, but does not imply any neglect of 
mental and sesthetic development. I refrain from the use of the term 
' cultural,' as I have yet to discover the meaning of this password to 
respectability. On the one hand, one finds subjects labelled cultural 
which, pursued to the extent that the average boy follows them, produce 
little or no effect upon his adult life and thought ; on the other hand, 
subject-matter which leads to an understanding of and a reverence for the 
wonders of the creation is often classed as non-cultural. 

Every teacher of practical subjects knows of boys, failures in the class- 
room, who have first gained scholastic self-respect in the laboratory or 
workshop^a vital turning-point in their school career. To assert that 
practical studies do not constitute a powerful factor in the formation of 
character implies an ignorance both of school and of life. 

The old grammar-school tradition, much of which we still inherit, 
provided an education which, for the few who profited by it, was more 
vocational than cultural ; the majority left school half-way through the 
course with an equipment little better than the three R's. 

We have scattered the same scholastic seed upon soil of all kinds in the 
blind hope that it will germinate and mature. We have paid little attention 
to the soil or to the variety of crops that are necessary. 

Need for Vocational Outlook. — We must not constrain every boy into 
a course of study culminating at eighteen or nineteen years, and allow 
90 per cent, to drop out at various points along the route without heed to 
their requirements at the point of departure. We must cater for the boy 
and the girl leaving school at fourteen, at fifteen, and at sixteen, and 
must endeavour to place them in a position to face with success the 
employment and the problems that will confront them. The last year 
or so of school life must have a frankly vocational trend. 

We must envisage the demands of the office and the shop, the factory 
and the workshop, the building trades and transport services on land and 
sea, the farmer and the fisherman, domestic service and home duties ; 
even the messenger boy and other blind-alley employments should not be 

At this final stage of the child's schooling, whatever the age may be, 
the teacher's work is as much concerned with character-building as with 
instruction ; he must lead his pupils from the sheltered irresponsibility 
of school life to the habits of self-reliant and conscientious work that the 
world will demand of him. 

No common school examination could direct usefully the varied types 
of training necessary, and inevitably it would divert attention from the 
more essential aspects of the teacher's work. 

Natural Knowledge. — Natural knowledge renders possible aims and 
therefore methods applicable in only a limited degree to other subjects 


of the school curriculum. Our younger pupil comes to us with a con- 
siderable knowledge of his native language, but with a great store of natural 
knowledge gained through his own observations and experience in the best 
school of all. These two subjects stand apart, and in early years should 
provide the natural foundation upon which the fabric of his education 
is based. In this mass of unorganised knowledge there is abundant 
material about which he can be led to think and in which he is already 

Too often this foundation of the known is completely ignored ; his 
lessons deal exclusively with ideas foreign to his experience ; consequently 
he is bored exceedingly and makes invidious comparisons between the 
schoolroom and the world-school outside. 

The young pupil is immediately responsive to any lesson upon a subject 
within the range of his experience ; he is keen to display his own know- 
ledge and to bombard one with questions in order to extend it. The 
lack-lustre eye of the grammar or arithmetic lesson sparkles into life and 
interest when in the science or nature lesson he is allowed to air his own 
views. Nothing is more astonishing than the power of logical thinking 
young people display, if they are allowed to grow up intellectually and 
their spontaneity is not curbed. Cannot we introduce into the class-room 
something of the atmosphere of the intelligent home, where children show 
knowledge and judgment years in advance of their school performances ? 

Concentration upon method and routine without reference to the end 
in view leads to dogmatism and stereotypes teaching. We can detect 
this blind obedience to traditional method in every subject of the school 
curriculum. Once a teaching method loses its directing purpose it 
becomes a dull-edged and inefficient tool. 

Didactic Method. — Among science teachers I find three schools of 
thought : 

[a) Those who don't think and advocate nothing. 

[b) Those who advocate didactic method. 

[c) Those who advocate natural method. 

With group {a) I am not concerned, except to hope that their numbers 
are few and that they realise that they have mistaken their vocation. 
Group {b) is large but admittedly honest. The didactic teacher has an 
end in view, and hence we must accept his procedure as a method. His 
aim is to produce a pupil with a word knowledge of a subject that can be 
put on paper by a certain date, and can, by constant practice, carry out 
certain routine operations. He believes that these results are a true 
measure of the mental if not the character growth of his pupils. I have 
known many such for whom I have great respect ; they play the school 
game — as they see it — efficiently, and believe that from hard work alone 
will result all that education can achieve. Others advocate didactic 
teaching from other considerations. Headmasters have their difficulties ; 
some, with no great belief in studies other than literary, are forced un- 
willingly to include science in the curriculum ; the time-table is upset 
by the small size and long duration of practical classes ; the periods 
demanded by the science master are badly needed for more Latin. Why 


waste so much time breaking test-tubes ? Of what use are balances and 
thermometers for boys who will only need a gentleman's knowledge of 
the sciences ? 

Every young teacher, no matter what his training, tends to revert to 
the methods practised upon himself at school. If a science teacher, he 
may find himself confronted with the demand for an annual list of successes, 
no time for preparation, and a starved laboratory ; under such circum- 
stances the text-book and didactic instruction becomes a substitute for 
real teaching. 

Natural Method. — I have used the term natural method in contra- 
distinction to didactic instruction. It is the method employed by every 
teacher worthy of the name in much of his daily practice. As far as the 
schoolroom will permit, it approaches the method by which we acquire 
knowledge in the world outside, and is applicable wherever we have a 
foundation of knowledge or experience upon which to build. It is 
natural method because its aim is to cultivate and satisfy the natural 
curiosity in young people about the happenings in the wonderful world 
in which they find themselves. It implies that children are encouraged 
to think for themselves, to express themselves, and are given ample 
opportunity to do so. Their irresponsible activities are gradually and 
carefully directed to inquiries into definite problems within their powers 
of comprehension. Lessons are conversational and argumentative, but 
need not exclude didactic statements where such are necessary to add 
interest and to make progress. The teacher is the leader, not the 
driver ; upon his direction, wide knowledge and inspiration success 

By these platitudes I run the risk of wearying you ; these principles in 
theory are almost universally accepted ; in practice we find them to a 
large extent ignored to-day. 

Heuristic Method. — You will say that natural method as here defined 
is but thinly disguised Heuristic Method first suggested by Prof. 
Meiklejohn in connection with the teaching of English. I have avoided 
the term because it has in these countries become associated with much 
intemperate controversy and destructive criticism. Its opponents have 
set up their own definition in the most absurd terms, and its exponents 
have sometimes allowed the method to submerge its aim. 

Heuristic Method as defined by Prof. Armstrong in the many valu- 
able constructive schemes of work which he has published from time 
to time has passed beyond the stage of controversy. It is accepted as an 
essential component of science teaching by thoughtful teachers in every 
country to which my inquiries have extended. Is there, in fact, any 
alternative method ? Although applicable to many subjects, it is so 
specially adaptable to natural knowledge that it has become associated 
almost exclusively with science teaching. 

Prof. H. E. Armstrong. — One name beyond others stands out as its 
advocate wherever science is taught — Prof. Henry E. Armstrong — 
originator of this Section of the Association. To his advocacy of training 
in scientific method the advancement of science in schools owes whatever 
progress has been made. His trenchant criticism has been supplemented 


by copious constructive suggestion. Therein he stands, almost alone, 
among the small band of scientific men who, during the past fifty years, 
have helped us to put purpose and method into our work. Like other 
great reformers, the full appreciation of his tireless efforts may not be 
reached even in his long lifetime. 

General Science essential. — There is one implication in my definition 
of natural method as applied to science teaching : our subject must be 
General Science. We cannot work in the corners of knowledge fenced 
in by present-day examinations ; we must be free to trample down half a 
dozen of these fences in one and the same lesson. 

In this great open field we can start almost anywhere ; it will depend 
upon the special interests of the teacher, or even of his pupils, and upon 
the environment of the school. Personally I find ' Air, burning, breathing,' 
a good starting-point ; it involves physics, chemistry, physiology and 
hygiene. In a girls' school a two years' course can be centred round the 
theme ' How the body keeps warm ' ; it provides a sound and adequate 
basis of fundamental general science. 

Text-books. — Purposeful method in general science should dominate 
instruction up to sixteen years of age — that is, the teaching should be 
broad in scope, and fundamental and experimental in character. Subject- 
matter incapable of inquiry, illustration or verification should be intro- 
duced only where its utility is outstanding. During the later part of 
this period I see no objection to text-books, properly used — that is, for 
reference after instruction and practical work. Science masters are 
more prone to the disease of book-making than other teachers, and I am 
not sure whether the mass of text-books available is a blessing or an evil ; 
their multiplicity and success is a proof that the great majority are misused. 
Publishers and authors alike are interested in sales to individual pupils. 
Text-books used otherwise than for reference tend to stereotype instruc- 
tion and to check investigation and initiative. I am glad to say I know 
of no one book that provides a natural and rational course of instruction. 

The Influence of External Examinations. 

Examinations and Method. — It is impossible to discuss methods of 
teaching without reference to the constraints that preparation for examina- 
tions places upon them. In early reports of this Section we deplored the 
stultifying efi^ects of external examinations upon the purpose and methods 
of the teachers' work. After twenty-five years this yoke appears to hang 
as heavily as ever upon the shoulders of our teachers, who accept patiently 
the burden as part of a pre-ordained scheme of things. In the years 
that need the greatest concentration upon those aspects of training that 
no ordinary examination attempts to test, this evil spirit has obtained 
a strangle-hold upon the efforts of both teacher and pupil. 

Influence upon Teaching. — I am unconvinced that external examination 
produces much voluntary stimulus to effort with the ordinary pupil of 
sixteen years of age. It is a very powerful stimulus to the teacher and 
urges him to methods which repress initiative and destroy imagination. 
His reputation is at stake. No matter that the syllabus is extensive and 


without appeal to the average pupil, it must be covered ; no matter that 
his class is over-large and badly graded, he must deliver to the examination- 
room pupils capable of answering questions which an intensive study of 
past papers indicates as likely to be set. No wonder, then, he looks upon 
argumentative teaching as waste of time, and fails to show the bearing of 
his subject upon the events of every day. He has no time to digress to 
related subjects outside the four walls of his syllabus. Some teachers 
can resist the temptations that examinations offer, and, treating the syllabus 
as a useful servant, can obtain good results without sacrificing the broader 
aims of education. 

The Public Demand for Examinations. — The public, with reason, 
demands some guarantee that a pupil leaving school has made satis- 
factory progress in a curriculum approved by an expert. It does not, 
unfortunately, seek information as to the more important results of school 
training— character, physical fitness, and practical skill — which written 
examination is unable to assess. 

The shackles of examination are in the main self-imposed ; no efficient 
school will suffer in reputation because it elects to play the game in an 
amateur spirit and refuses to enter a league of rival competitors. Many 
public and secondary schools retain their freedom, or at least keep the 
dangers of examination in check, but hundreds of others appear to exist 
solely to promote the well-being of semi-official boards and examiners. 
The assessment of the progress of pupils is primarily the duty of the 
expert school staff, who are in daily contact with them. Periodical examina- 
tions by the teachers themselves provide valuable information as to the 
success of their own efforts, and as to the special difficulties of individual 
pupils. The tendency of these great examining bodies to mould many 
schools in the same pattern and to relieve the teachers of one of their 
important functions is a matter for grave consideration. 

It is argued that the influence of preparation for examination is confined 
to the last year of school life. In practice we find this is not so. In some 
cases the purpose of instruction is distorted for several years prior to the 
examination, or, on the other hand, we find low-pressure teaching in the 
earlier years and consequent over-pressure as the examination approaches. 
Examinations, disastrous in their influence upon scientific and practical 
studies, are probably less harmful with linguistic and mathematical sub- 
jects, but with these must discourage free teaching and experiment. 

Internal examination strictly upon what has been taught, supplemented 
by the other information that any well-conducted school can supply, 
should meet every demand that parent and employer can make. 

The quantitative testing by written examination of selected candidates 
is no measure of the value of the work of a school as a whole, which can 
only be ascertained by the guarantee of the teaching staff, supplemented 
by adequate extern inspection. Constructive and sufficient inspection 
in close co-operation with the teaching staffs can provide every safeguard 
that the public may demand. Teachers and inspectors alike must assume 
wider responsibilities and we must trust them both. 

The elementary and central schools have hitherto led a healthy 
educational life, but the virus of examination is beginning to enter their 


blood. The disease must be checked, and the schools must be isolated 
from the contagion which has become endemic in the majority of secondary- 

The problem of external examination and its attendant evils is not 
insoluble, but it must be faced with courage and understanding. It is 
much less exacting to work for examinations than to strive for high ideals 
by thought and purpose. The teacher who needs an examination to 
direct his work and keep him at it is in no sense an educator. The 
majority of science teachers, at any rate, would welcome freedom from the 
thraldom that is destructive of all that is best in their art and renders 
much of their effort anything but a labour of love. The present position 
has been reached along a path of least resistance — always a dangerous 
route to follow. 

Practical Examinations. — The efficiency of instruction in science cannot 
be tested by written examinations alone ; practical tests, properly con- 
ducted, are as reliable and more searching, and, moreover, tend to direct 
methods of instruction into the right channels. The failure of examining 
bodies to deal with practical and manual instruction is a potent cause of 
the non-advancement of science in our schools. The reason is not far 
to seek ; such examinations are troublesome and expensive and demand 
much expert man-power. These difficulties are shirked, and possibly are 
insuperable, but the teaching suffers accordingly. 

The testing of practical work involves : {a) observation of methods of 
work ; [b) oral questions to test understanding of the problem ; and 
{c) evaluation of the results obtained. Such tests are impossible in the 
absence of an expert examiner, who should base his tests upon the course 
covered by the candidates, but should also test resourcefulness and the 
ability to carry out definite instructions. 

In Irish secondary and central schools we have found no great difficulty 
in ensuring uniformity of marking by different examiners and have every 
confidence in the assessments made. 

Scope of Instruction. 

Science in the Junior School. — In a good infant school you will probably 
find thoughtful and skilful instruction, natural and scientific in its method. 
It is to be deplored that when the infant emerges into the standards the 
break in methods of instruction is often sudden and complete ; the 
passage of this barrier should be made more smooth by the co-operation 
of teachers working on either side of it. 

The Lower Standards. — In the standards of the Junior School instruction 
in science is known as ' Nature Study ' — a title which may cover much 
excellent work or cloak a multitude of sins. The old object-lesson, 
described in one of our early reports as ' the laborious elucidation of the 
obvious,' still persists, but has to a great extent been replaced by lessons 
on plant specimens examined individually by pupils. A lesson that 
centres round a single object is apt to be narrow : objects should be used 
to illustrate a topic or subject of instruction, and these subject lessons 
should be connected in short series and so lay some foundation for the 


work of the Senior School. The tendency to specialise on natural history 
topics to the exclusion of many phenomena more within the experience of 
young people is to be regretted ; they love to see things happening, and 
happening quickly. Little experiments on burning and breathing, how 
water boils, where the sugar goes to in a cup of tea, and a dozen other 
things about air and water, arouse enthusiasm and set them thinking hard. 
Some simple equipment of apparatus is necessary for such lessons and for 
plant experiments. 

Animal Studies. — Compilers of syllabuses write glibly — ' Animal 
studies : birds, fishes, insects, etc' I do not think that animal studies 
are to any great extent practicable under ordinary school conditions ; the 
treatment is generally encyclopaedic, does not set children thinking, and 
the facts are soon forgotten. 

Need for Explanatory Syllabuses. — Teachers in junior standards need 
simple explanatory syllabuses of natural studies arranged seasonally and 
in good sequence that will provide a volume of fundamental and applicable 
knowledge. We need more constructive help from our biological 
friends than we have yet received as to details of instruction and which 
will recognise fully the conditions under which the average teacher 

Teaching at this stage demands more inspiration than at later periods. 
Sound knowledge is needed for a full appreciation of the wonder and 
beauty of familiar things. The teacher must be able to think upon the 
same plane as his pupils ; he must neither be above their heads nor treat 
them as babies incapable of thought. 

Nowhere can one learn the possibilities of science teaching as under 
the untrammelled conditions of these early years. Almost my whole 
faith in the teaching of science has come from my experiences in elementary 
schools rather than from contact with pupils of more advanced age. 

The outlook and work of university professors, inspectors and secondary 
teachers, in their respective spheres, would greatly benefit if they were 
compelled to spend a post-graduate period in elementary schools, for here 
more than elsewhere can the art of teaching be learnt and practised. 

In considering the scope of science instruction beyond the primary 
stage it will be convenient to divide the subsequent school life into 
three two-year periods : 12 to 14 years, 14 to 16 years, and 16 to 18 

Science the Same in all Schools. — There is no reason to suppose that 
for pupils of the same age, whether in elementary, central or secondary 
schools, there need be any marked difference in the subject-matter of 
instruction or in the manner of teaching it. The size of classes and the 
school equipment may modify the methods but not the purpose of 

Period 12 to 14 Years. — In the first of these periods — 12 to 14 years — 
our general science syllabus may be : ' Earth, air, fire, water, the sky, 
the green plant, and ourselves.' Under these broad headings the more 
fundamental ideas of physics, chemistry, geology, botany and hygiene 
can be taught. The experienced teacher will delight in drafting his 
own scheme of lessons on a syllabus of such universal scope, but the 


young student fresh from training will be in difficulties. To help him 
it is necessary to prepare a working syllabus in such explanatory detail 
that it amounts to notes of lessons. Theorists will hold up their hands 
in horror at such a suggestion, but I know from long experience that it 
is the only road to success. By working conscientiously through such 
a scheme the inexperienced teacher gains a grasp of the purpose and 
method of the course that he can obtain in no other way. For the 
preparation of these teaching syllabuses we need the co-operation of 
teachers and inspectors of long and thoughtful experience. 

Demonstration lessons play an important part : they give purpose and 
meaning to individual work, but alone can never give the reality to words 
that comes from personal contact with things and phenomena. Pro- 
vision for individual practical work is essential in every type of school ; 
central and secondary schools are provided with satisfactory laboratories, 
and committees spend large sums upon manual and art instruction in 
higher schools, but plead poverty when the most modest demands are 
made for practical instruction in elementary schools in which the need is 
more urgent. Some elementary schools have — and all should have — 
a work-room fitted with flat-topped tables and provided with a gas and 
water supply. 

Period 14 to i6 Years. — At no period of school life does the pupil react 
more to his treatment than between the ages of fourteen and sixteen years. 
His interests become keener and more serious, and his powers of initiative 
and judgment develop if not suppressed by an unyielding school regime. 
Both in the central and secondary school the course in science should be 
of a general character, but not necessarily the same in all schools or in all 
groups of the same school. A more systematic treatment of elementary 
physics, chemistry, electricity, biology and hygiene will necessitate 
revision of much done in the previous two years ; it will not be possible 
to deal with more than fundamentals, and no attempt should be made to 
force instruction up to the present standards demanded by school certifi- 
cate examinations in specific subjects. Instruction should be essentially 
practical, demonstration lessons bearing the same relation to practical 
work as in the earlier period. 

Conditions of Practical Work. — The teacher should give many 
qualitative demonstrations not necessary for individual repetition ; the 
laboratory exercises should lead to definite observational or quantitative 
results, and should be performed always with the eye on the clock, for 
quick work implies concentration and success. Laboratory work in 
groups of two or even more pupils is responsible for the formation of 
desultory and inaccurate habits of work, and is tolerated in no other form 
of practical instruction. Over-large classes, poor equipment, and lack of 
laboratory preparation lead to low-pressure work, waste of time and small 

The organisation and supervision of laboratory work makes severe 
demands upon the science teacher ; a practical class of more than twenty 
pupils cannot be taught by one teacher, and the normal school groups are 
usually divided or, alternatively, a second teacher called in. If the science 
master is to devote his whole energies to the problems of instruction he 


must have at his disposal the services of a laboratory assistant ; valuable 
time is often wasted in mere fetching and carrying and by the difficulties 
arising from a poor equipment. Breakages must occur, and the bill 
for renewals is often a measure of the efficiency of instruction, but head- 
masters look askance at these demands and wonder whether the game is 
worth the candle. 

Where a vocational outlook is possible emphasis should be laid upon 
the appropriate branches of the full course. For others whose future 
employment makes little demand for applied science, instruction will 
be mainly directed to the investigation of conunon occurrences and the 
problems of healthy living. 

Value of Revision. — The adoption of a non-departmental scheme of 
general science has one great advantage : it necessitates the repetition and 
expansion of the same ideas in successive years. Few pupils really grasp 
a new idea at the first presentation, nor does the immediate and frequent 
repetition of the same lesson do more than secure a word memory which 
is not lasting. A new approach to the same idea, after a considerable 
interval, and by a more mature treatment, is invaluable, and much of the 
admitted ineffectiveness of school science is probably due to the neglect 
or ignorance of this fact. 

It is urged as an objection to general science that it is not examinable. 
Could any stronger argument for its adoption be offered ? There can be 
no doubt that external examination would affect the teaching of general 
science even more disastrously than it has affected that of specific subjects. 

Senior Work in Secondary Schools. — If instruction up to sixteen years 
of age has been broad, thorough and practical, the nature of science 
studies in the last two years will be determined by the necessities of future 
occupation or employment. Reading and practical work will go hand- 
in-hand, the teacher's principal function being to direct and organise 
both. A real but elementary knowledge of the interdependence of the 
various branches of science is of greater value to the young student than 
a specialised book knowledge beyond his years. 

The engineer, the doctor, the agricultural expert, the chemist and the 
schoolmaster require a much wider knowledge of science than they com- 
monly possess, and these years should tend to counteract the narrowing 
influences of university and professional training. 

The false standards of university scholarship examinations have 
influenced adversely the science in senior forms of secondary schools. 
The schoolmaster who has been through it knows what his pupils require 
in order to profit by university courses ; his opinions should carry great 
weight in determining the nature and standard of these examinations, 
which should test practically and theoretically a broad and thorough 
knowledge of general science. 

Science in Girls' Schools. — Domestic duties call for more initiative, 
executive ability, power of organisation and common sense than do the 
ordinary vocations followed by boys on leaving school. The woman in 
the home is confronted daily with problems the solution of which demands 
trained intelligence and considerable knowledge of science. A training 
in methods of inquiry in relation to the materials and phenomena of 


home-life should do much to create an alert interest in common domestic 
experiences. Until fourteen years of age the same course of general 
science is just as useful for girls as for boys ; but later there should in 
most cases be a different objective. The academic science syllabuses 
followed with success in boys' schools make little appeal to girls ; to meet 
this difficulty in Irish secondary schools we substituted a course of 
Everyday Science, with special emphasis upon domestic experience 
and hygiene ; while providing a good general foundation, it is less 
quantitative than the course for boys, and has proved an unqualified 

In girls' schools there is need for better correlation between the teaching 
given in the laboratory and the kitchen ; the subject taught in both is 
really one and the same, yet too often the science teacher and the teacher 
of housecrafts ignore the educational existence of each other. I believe 
we shall not get the best out of either of these aspects of domestic science 
until both are taught by one and the same person. In classes for adults 
there is some justification in treating the subject purely as a craft 
dominated by rules and recipes, but in schools we should direct the 
instruction towards the development of scientific habits and reasoned 
action. Less advance in the purpose and methods of instruction has 
been made in this most adaptable of subjects than in other practical 

Training Schools of Domestic Science. — The remedy lies with the 
training schools. Training in Domestic Science not only ensures quick 
and congenial employment but provides the best possible preparation 
for married life. The leakage from the profession is doubtless great, 
but we need not regret the cost of training to the State or to the indi- 
vidual, since it provides for the future homes of the nation intelligent 
and skilful management combined with an ability to teach. Some 
training in the art of teaching young children should form part of the 
equipment of every woman ; it is at least as important as a knowledge of 
domestic arts and household management, and is an aspect of girls' 
education which has not yet received serious attention. There can be 
little doubt that the training schools are accepting students immature 
both in age and educational attainments, and are in consequence com- 
pelled to undertake much instruction which could have been given in 
the secondary school. 

A sound knowledge of general science and considerable experience of 
the domestic arts should be an essential condition for admission to a 
training school, which could then devote itself more intensively to pro- 
fessional training, and so prevent the present tendency to undue prolonga- 
tion of the training period. The instruction in science should concentrate 
upon the bearing of scientific method upon teaching and of science upon 
domestic experience. The preparation of dishes does not supply the 
most suitable material for practice in the teacher's art, it is too dogmatic ; 
there should in addition be lessons on science and hygiene argumenta- 
tively treated. Learned lectures upon subjects beyond the comprehension 
of the students should be avoided, as they create the feeling that science 
is an unpractical and ornamental fringe to training. In the kitchen as 


well as in the laboratory it is important to develop an experimental 
attitude of mind ; the fear of spoiling food should not be allowed to 
prevent definite inquiries into the nature of the materials and processes 
of the kitchen. 

Training in Science of the General Subjects Teacher. 

Years ago I inspected a country school in the South of Ireland ; the 
teacher — an elderly man — assured me his pupils were ' mad on science ' ; 
the school was full of devices for making instruction real and exciting ; 
senior pupils had preserved the keenness often found only among 
the juniors, and would argue with one about anything. On leaving, I 
asked the teacher why he had succeeded when others failed. With a 
twinkle in his eye, he replied : ' I dunno, sir, but perhaps it is I wasn't 

On the whole the training colleges for elementary teachers have done 
their work well : their product is reasonably well fitted to gain experience 
from their teaching. That is all we can expect. 

The teacher of the primary or higher primary school is usually a 
class-teacher, responsible for some or all subjects of the curriculum ; 
he has to contend with difficulties not found in the secondary school, but, 
on the other hand, his methods and his inclinations are free from the 
constraints of examinations. 

The teacher, whether in elementary or secondary school, must have 
grasped the method of science, and requires the same skill in the pre- 
sentation of subject-matter to young pupils. A training college staff 
in touch with the problems of real teaching can do this work more effec- 
tively than university lecturers. 

The studies in general science followed in the training colleges should 
be fundamental but of necessity more limited in scope and degree than 
those attempted by the secondary teacher ; they should revise, from the 
teacher's standpoint, the work done by the student when at school, but 
must also fill up the many gaps that remain. 

With students of this age it is not desirable to divorce training in 
teaching methods from instruction in subject-matter ; both can be 
dealt with simultaneously and without loss of time ; constant reference 
should be made to the difficulties and experiences of class teaching. 
Every specialist in a training college should be his own professor of 
method. Although this might lead to a conflict of pedagogical advice, 
it would leave the student more inclined to form his own judgments and 
would encourage his own critical powers : we do not want all our teachers 
cast from the same mould. 

In the training colleges as in the schools instruction should be more 
akin to discussion than lecturing. The final qualifying tests, theoretical, 
practical and pedagogical, should be conducted by inspectors and teachers 
who have been in close touch with the work. 

The laboratory training must be intensive and individual in order that 
students may acquire the resource that their future work will demand of 
them. In order to face the difficulties that poor equipment imposes they 


require a good training in laboratory arts and an ability to make use of 
the simplest means of illustration. 

The Making of the Science Teacher. 

Over-specialisation. — It would be of interest to ascertain the proportion of 
science graduates who ultimately become science masters and who intended 
originally to adopt that profession. The number is probably small, and 
explains the complaint that many young graduates, possessing a diploma 
in education, are unable to deal with junior science classes, and fail to 
interest and to get down to the level of their pupils. Due to their narrow 
specialisation, they are unable, or unwilling, to undertake even elementary 
instruction in a broad course of general science. The preference given 
in school appointments to men with high degrees further ensures 
specialisation. There is something wrong when it requires three different 
specialists to teach a boy of sixteen the modicum of science with which 
he leaves school. There is no such specialisation in literary, language 
or mathematical studies. This haphazard preparation of the science 
teacher for his hfe's work explains the failure of general science to obtain 
any firm footing in the schools, and also the large number of candidates 
for the school certificate examination who receive an education in science 
so narrow as to be of little service to them in life. 

In Irish secondary schools there is no alternative to general science 
for the first school certificate ; specialisation is only allowed for the 
higher certificates taken at about eighteen years of age ; but we 
find difficulty in obtaining teachers of all-round training and broad 

To remedy these defects we recently organised an intensive course of 
general science for a group of selected graduates. The instruction in 
elementary physical and biological science was given partly by inspectors 
and partly by the students themselves under direction. We quickly 
discovered the necessity for our experiment, and found that elementary 
work, such as would be covered in the first university year, was half-known 
and its importance little appreciated ; practical work was slow and 
inaccurate, and there was little evidence of an understanding of scientific 
method or of an ability to undertake an experiment to answer a specific 
question. The material was good and the students responded admirably 
to a rather stern disciplinary training. The results of the course, as far 
as we can at present assess them, were very satisfactory. 

Vocational Training for Science Teachers. — It would seem that science 
teachers should be trained for their work in life as deliberately as candi- 
dates for other professions. The universities have not yet seriously faced 
this problem, but years ago the Royal Colleges of Science did offer courses 
designed for this purpose, which, though not ideal, produced a large 
number of very sound teachers. Such a course should provide a very 
thorough foundation in physics, chemistry, botany, animal physiology, 
geology and physiography. Emphasis should be laid upon the meaning 
of scientific method as exemplified by the work of the great pioneers, 
ancient and modern. The course should preserve a professional outlook 


throughout and every effort be made to break down artificial barriers 
between subjects. 

If science teaching does not influence the pupils' methods of thought, 
if it does not develop the habit of forming careful judgments, it has failed 
completely in its purpose, and little defence can be made for it. To 
produce such results the training of the teacher must provide deliberately 
a practical and scientific discipline. In addition to the acquirement 
of knowledge he must learn to play the game of science, proficiency in 
which examinations make little attempt to test ; bookish erudition and 
a brilliant degree alone give no guarantee that he is scientifically 

Training in Theory of Education. — The prospective secondary teacher 
spends a post-graduate year attending lectures in the history of education 
and psychology associated with some practice in teaching. Many of us 
are disappointed and surprised at the poor results this year of professional 
studies provides ; any good results appear to come from the amount and 
quality of the teaching experience rather than from the lectures on theory. 
The historical and philosophical treatment of education contributes 
admittedly to the intellectual grovrth of the student, but in effect is non- 
vocational and does not produce practical and resourceful teachers. 

Such theoretical training would be more effective after some years of 
thoughtful experience ; the student would then be in a position to com- 
pare theory with the results of his own practice. Where they agreed it 
would greatly strengthen his own faith ; where conflict occurred he would 
seek the cause. 

At the Winnipeg meeting of this Section Prof. Hugo Miinsterberg, 
the leading experimental psychologist of his time, said : ' I would as soon 
give a student a manual of physiological chemistry and expect her to 
prepare me a good dinner, as I would give her a course in psychology and 
expect her to teach.' 

If the art of teaching is to develop into a science it will do so along 
inductive lines, and truth must be sought by purposeful observation and 
experiment in the class-room. We must concentrate less upon deductive 
methods and didactic rules and more upon a product equipped to gain 
knowledge from experience and conscious that success in his art can be 
achieved only by his own thoughtful investigations. 

An ability to conceive, carry out and utilise an experiment should form 
an essential part of the training of every teacher, since the problems of 
teaching are the same in all subjects. Some of the most truly scientific 
teaching may be found in elementary schools given by teachers of no 
academic training and whose knowledge of science is dangerously super- 
ficial ; they have a missionary interest in their work, and with freedom 
develop a natural method. 

Why then is professional training in its present form not producing 
the results expected } Fresh from the intensive grinding for his degree, 
the candidate-teacher enters his professional year with unchanged outlook 
— another essential examination to pass. With no experience to give 
reality to the lectures he attends, he thinks far more of the diploma he is 
seekiug than of the demands of his future career. 


Other countries have recognised the need of a break between academic 
studies and professional training, and delay the latter until experience and 
greater maturity serve to make it effective. The Danes, both in their 
Folk Schools and in the training of their teachers, recognise the need for 
some experience of the world before embarking upon studies that demand 
a serious outlook upon life. 

An Unorthodox Experiment. — Recently a new Irish Education Act 
found us insufficiently supplied with the types of teacher necessary to 
implement it. We needed teachers of general subjects, building trades, 
metal work, motor-car engineering, rural and general science, and 
domestic economy. We selected our candidates for these groups with 
care, the average age being about twenty-five, and importance was 
attached to the quality of their previous work and experience ; few had 
previously taught. The groups were placed under teachers of experience 
who dealt with the technical training and the problems of teaching 
simultaneously. Teaching methods were confined to the subject-matter 
of the group, and consisted mainly of discussions and criticism lessons 
and a little class experience. The duration of the courses was less than 
a year. I was present at all the final teaching tests and was astonished 
at the excellent standards reached. These teachers are now at work 
throughout the country, and with few exceptions have fulfilled our 
expectations. Many have been called upon to undertake teaching duties 
not contemplated originally, and they have not failed. 

Some conclusions are indicated from this unorthodox experiment. 
In the making of a teacher his maturity and serious contacts with life are 
of great importance ; concentration upon the teaching of specific lessons 
is more eff^ective than the discussion of theoretical principles ; and, lastly, 
the skill acquired in the teaching of one subject is available for wider 

Section L in York, 1906. — My distinguished predecessor. Sir Michael 
Sadler, in this chair and in this city twenty-six years ago surveyed, with 
very great ability, the whole field of English education at that time. He 
deait at some length with many of the questions to which I have referred, 
but especially to the need for more vocational purpose in school work. 
At that time he saw signs of a first general appreciation of education 
definitely for life, and showed how educational problems must be inter- 
woven with social problems. He said : ' In planning a course of education 
for anyone you must keep the actual needs of his or her future life-work 
steadily in view. The schools must prepare the children for citizenship 
and for individual efficiency in this or that type of future calling, and 
must dovetail educational discipHne into the practical tasks of life.' 
And again : ' Schools are at present too little concerned in the question 
how each individual pupil is likely to earn his living.' He appreciated 
that, with the expansion of the public school downwards and the 
elementary school upwards, the old middle-class grammar school must 
disappear, and that the two remaining types would attract such a 
variety of pupils that it would be difficult to have a clear-cut vocational 

The traditional ruts into which education moved, the concentration 


upon book-learning, the neglect of handwork, and our wastefulness of the 
more ordinary kinds of intellectual material he regarded as the besetting 
weaknesses of his time. 

Much of the progress that Sadler foretold has gone apace, but though 
he deplored our ' worship of examinations ' as destructive of teaching 
and learning alike, he could not foresee the extent to which machine-made 
examination would stultify the good that should have resulted from the 
fusion of the old class education grades. 

Concltisions . — Within the limits of this address, and of your patience, 
I cannot refer to many aspects of science teaching of considerable im- 
portance : for example, the place of scientific thinking in adult education, 
and the marked decline of the amateur interest in science, are problems 
not within the scope of this paper. 

During the generation which represents the life of this Section the 
magnitude of science teaching has increased enormously. As a measure 
we might take the number of school balances in use. Forty years ago 
the number could not have exceeded a few hundreds ; to-day it must 
run well into six figures. 

In early days our school rays of scientific light were admittedly divergent 
but gave a fairly general illumination of the facts of experience ; to-day 
they seem to pass through a lens of short focus and perfect optical 
properties which converges them to form a well-defined image in the 
examination room, but allows little stray light to illuminate the path of 
life at more distant ranges. Our beam of school science must be directed 
in a wider angle so as to envelop the dark areas of ignorance, to enlighten 
which is its proper function. 

There is justification for the impression that, during the period under 
review, the ' sense ' of the advance of school science has become negative 
rather than positive, that its quality and purpose has retrograded rather 
than advanced. Common sense alone will give proper direction to our 
efforts. We must agree as to what school science can do to make better 
thinkers and more earnest workers and see that it does it, irrespective of 
the artificial constraints that scholastic and educational machinery at 
present impose. 

This survey of the advancement of science in schools has left me with 
certain outstanding impressions : 

1. The curricula of many schools — especially secondary schools — are 
based upon the demands of external examinations, and take little 
thought of the human material handled or the shape into which it 
should be moulded to fit accurately into its place in the machine of 
life. It results in mass-production from the same mould without 
reference to the markets it is intended to supply. 

2. We must be prepared to justify every rectangle in our school time- 
table to the satisfaction of a competent authority. We must define 
clearly what we mean by * culture ' and must adopt the most direct 
and most economical route to it. We must test our products 
more broadly and more sanely, and keep our curricula fluid and 


3. School science for the average boy and girl should, in the first place, 
provide broad and real knowledge that will, as far as possible, 
render intelligible the phenomena of common experierice ; and, 
secondly, provide a training in the formation of sound judgments 
and alertness. Its teaching cannot be adapted to traditional 
linguistic methods. 

4. Science teaching is a profession the preparation for which is at 
present neither deliberate nor adequate. 






Early in the sixteenth century Master Fitzherbert wrote : 

* An housbande can not well thrjrve by his corne without he have 
other cattell, nor by his cattell without corne. For else he shall be 
a byer, a borrower or a begger. And because that shepe in myne 
opynyon is the mooste profytablest cattell that any man can have, 
therefore I pourpose to speake fyrst of shepe.' 

The first part of this extract is a clear statement of the belief responsible 
for the traditional policy of British agriculture. The soundness of that 
policy perhaps is not accepted so readily and generally as it used to be, 
but, while we might differ on the broad question, we shall at any rate agree 
that one of the biggest immediate problems which British farmers have 
to face is that of finding a profitable outlet for their main crop — grass. 
It therefore seems appropriate that we should give special consideration 
to the kind of ' cattell ' of which Fitzherbert had such a high opinion, and 
that like him Section M at this meeting should ' speake fyrst of shepe.' 

I am sure that he would accept my title without question, or, at most, 
would assert that it was much too mild, but, without making any reflection 
on my audience, it is perhaps necessary to produce some evidence in 
support of my opinion that sheep farming is a ' distinctive feature of 
British agriculture.' I must restrict my survey to Great Britain, but my 
claim could probably be justified even if we used the term British in its 
wider sense. About one-third of all the world's sheep are in the British 
Empire. They produce about half the world's wool and probably about 
the same proportion of mutton and lamb. 

Table I, compiled from the International Y ear-Book of Agricultural 
Statistics, shows that in relation to total land area our sheep population 
is only surpassed by that of New Zealand. Even if we consider actual 
numbers. Great Britain is eighth on the list, and, except for New Zealand, 
is only surpassed by countries many times its size. 




Australia (1929) 

U.S.S.R. (Asia and Europe) 

U.S.A. . 

Union of S. Africa (1929) 

Argentina . 

New Zealand 

British India 

Great Britain 

Uruguay . 

Spain (1929) 

France (1929) 


Germany . 

Table I. 

No. of 
Sheep, 1930 

89,860 1 







Land Area 








per 100 













Table II enables us to examine the position in European countries more 
comparable with our own than those at the head of the first table. It will 
he noticed that the area considered — arable and grass land — is different 
from that in Table I, where total land area was taken as the basis of 
calculation. The important facts brought out by this table are (i) our 
low proportion of tilled land, which is only about half the average of the 
other countries ; (2) our great number of sheep ; (3) the small population 
employed on a given area of land. In Great Britain sheep are used to 
consume a large part of the production of the soil which in other countries 
is of a different character and is disposed of in a different way— e.g. 
France grows a much larger proportion of crops for direct human con- 
sumption ; in Germany, Holland, and, above all, in Denmark, dairy 
cattle and pigs dominate farming practice. 

In assessing the importance of the industry it is perhaps even more 
necessary to know how sheep compare with other branches of farming in 
this country, and I have therefore drawn up Table III (p. 232) from 
figures in the official reports on Agricultural Output. It indicates the 
extent to which the income of the British farmer depends on receipts from 
sheep and wool. It should be noted that the figures include only pro- 
duce sold off the land or consumed in farm households. They do not 
include sales from one farm to another. 

^ This figure taken from the International Y ear-Book is probably much too low. 
The 'Wool Survey ' recently published by the Empire Marketing Board, quoting 
the Journal of the Soviet Textile Trust, gives 100-5 millions. The number in 
1929 was 132-8 milUons. 



Table II. 

Per 100 Hectares of Arable and Grass Land. 



Percent, in 

occupied in 

Total of 


Arable Land 





per 100 
Crops and 



Clover and 



Great Britain . 












France . 
























Great Britain 


rough graz- 

ing) . 








rough graz- 

ing) . 






Thus, in 1925, receipts from sheep and wool constituted between 
one-fourth and one-third of our receipts from the sales of farm stock, 
excluding poultry, and about one-tenth of the total British agricultural 

The main facts regarding our consumption of mutton and lamb in 
relation to that of other kinds of meat are set out in Table IV (p. 232), 
prepared from the Marketing Reports in the Ministry's Economic 

Whilst Tables I and II justify the claim of sheep to be regarded as a 
special feature of British farming, the figures in Tables III and IV show 
that we must not take an exaggerated view of their importance, even 
though they are immensely more important to us than to continental 

In 1925 mutton and lamb brought to the British farmer rather less 
income than did vegetables, flowers and fruit. Possibly, by now, even, 
poultry may be more important financially than sheep. 



Table III. 

Estimated Value of Agricultural and Horticultural Produce 
FROM Farms and other Holdings in Great Britain. 

Horses .... 

Cattle and Calves 
Sheep and Lambs . 
Pigs .... 

Total Live Stock 

Wool .... 
Farm Crops . 
Milk and Dairy Produce . 
Eggs and Poultry 
Vegetables, Fruit, Flowers 

Total Sales off the Land 



Thousands of ^. 











































Table IV. 


Total Consumption per 

head of population in 

Great Britain. 


Proportion of Home-produced 
to Total Supplies. 

of Mutton 

and Lamb 
in Great 


















etc. 2 













• — 





























43 -o 









— • 




















• — 










^ Great Britain and Ireland. 


Similarly, our consumption of mutton and lamb is far greater than 
that of most other populations — 28 lb. per head per annum as compared 
with 6-8 lb. in France, 6-5 lb. in Canada, 5-8 lb. in the U.S.A., and 
1-6 lb. in Germany ; but Table IV shows that it is only about two- 
fifths of our consumption of beef and veal. The home supply and the 
consumption of mutton and lamb per head appear to be recovering from 
the check caused by the war, but it is clear that the home product has 
not held its own in the competition for supplying the demands of our 
increasing population, and we now depend on overseas supplies to a much 
greater extent than before the war. 

At the same time, I feel that these figures must not be taken as an exact 
measure of the importance of the sheep industry in our national agricul- 
tural economy. There are many other considerations to be taken into 
account, some of which I will discuss later. 

Development of British Sheep Farming : Wool Production. 

The importance of sheep is no new feature of British agriculture, and 
a rapid survey of the history of sheep farming in this country will enable 
us to obtain a better idea of the present position of the industry and its 
prospects for the future. I cannot go further back than Norman times, 
and I do not suppose that until the country became comparatively settled 
and law-abiding, sheep were of very great importance. In a country 
subject to continual tribal quarrels or internal wars, I imagine that a sheep 
flock would excite the feelings said to be roused to-day by a rabbit in a 
Yorkshire mining district. Throughout the Middle Ages it would hardly 
be an exaggeration to say that the history of sheep farming was the history, 
not only of agriculture, but of national commerce. Up to the middle of 
the fifteenth century. Great Britain, and, in particular, the lowland 
districts of England, provided the most important source of supply of the 
wool required by continental manufacturers, particularly those of Flanders, 
but also those of Italy and other countries at a greater distance. Britain 
almost played the part which Australia plays to-day. Such was the 
dependence of continental manufacturers on English wool that it was 
possible to impose export duties, which for long were among the most 
important sources of revenue available for the mediaeval equivalent of 
our Chancellor of the Exchequer. The nation was not long content with 
being merely a producer of raw wool, and from the twelfth century 
onwards there was a whole series of enactments intended to foster 
woollen manufacture and to keep British wool for British looms. For 
long periods the export of wool was actually prohibited, though even in 
those days prohibition was not entirely successful, and the smuggling of 
wool out of the country became at various times quite an important 

Legislation of this kind was not the only means adopted to build up a 
manufacturing industry. It is probable that continental weavers were 
encouraged to come over and settle in different parts soon after the 
Conquest, and it is certain that Edward III brought over a number of 
Flemish weavers between 1330 and 1340. By the middle of the fifteenth 

I 2 


century the effects of the various protective measures and of the develop- 
ing home industry were to be clearly seen. The export of raw wool fell 
oif , less cloth was imported, and the export of cloth became of considerable 

In the Middle Ages English woollen manufacture was mainly con- 
centrated in three areas : the West Country — Gloucestershire, Wiltshire, 
Somerset ; East Anglia, particularly Suffolk and Essex ; and Yorkshire. 
I regret to say that Yorkshire was not only third in order of quantity, but 
it was also rather notorious for poor quality, and it was not until the 
nineteenth century that the West Riding assumed its present eminent 
position in manufacture. It is interesting to us to-day to know that York 
played an important part both in the manufacture and in the foreign trade 
in cloth. From 1164, for more than a century, the city had the monopoly 
of the manufacture of dyed and striped cloth in the county, and at the 
beginning of the fifteenth century it was estimated that of about 2,500 
heads of families in the city, 250 were masters of one or other of the 
Guilds which regulated the making of cloth. By the sixteenth century 
York had declined as a manufacturing centre, partly owing to the growing 
competition of the West Riding, but it still held an important position 
in the trade, largely as a result of its connections with the Merchant 
Adventurers, who so largely controlled the export of Yorkshire cloth up 
to the seventeenth century. 

As regards the production of wool, it is important to note that the 
developing agriculture of the country, though called upon to provide the 
food required by the increasing industrial population, was also able to 
supply the wool needed for the continually expanding manufacture, as 
well as a certain amount for export. There must, therefore, have been a 
steady increase in the number of sheep, doubtless accompanied by some 
improvement in the weight of fleeces. In the main, the country was self- 
supporting up to the end of the eighteenth century, and, although there 
were at times considerable imports of wool from overseas, on the other 
hand we read of agitations for the removal of restrictions on export, so as 
to enable the British farmer to secure a better price for his wool. These 
agitations came to a head about the end of the eighteenth century, and the 
prohibition of the export of wool was removed in 1825. It is possibly not 
generally known that, although we now import colossal quantities of wool, 
a large proportion of our home-grown clip is exported. Up to 1927 
nearly 60 per cent, was sent abroad, principally to the United States and 
Italy. The weight of home-grown wool exported is such that Great Britain 
is about eighth on the list of wool-exporting countries. 

On the more definitely agricultural side of the sheep industry, our 
information of early developments is in many ways very meagre and 
unsatisfactory. For instance, we know little of the origin of our domesti- 
cated breeds of sheep, and I do not suppose that anyone would care to 
express a very definite opinion regarding the character or origin of the 
sheep in the country at the time of the Norman Conquest. From the 
Conquest onwards records of various kinds throw some light on the 
nature of the sheep kept in different parts of Great Britain, though early 
writings deal much more fully with the wool than with the sheep them- 


selves. The monasteries were very large sheep farmers, and information 
regarding the prices they obtained for their respective clips gives us 
some idea of the distribution of different types of sheep in the thirteenth 
and fourteenth centuries. Even at that time, Hereford and adjoining 
counties produced very valuable wool, vsrhile the Midland counties and 
Lincolnshire also received high prices. Scotland, the North of England, 
and Wales, as now, evidently produced a good deal of wool of low market 
value. Certain exceptions may possibly indicate isolated areas in which 
sheep of an old local kind survived, or, on the other hand, the results of 
the introduction of new types from abroad. 

From the fourteenth century onwards there was a regular succession 
of writers on agriculture, and from them we obtain more definite ideas 
of the sheep in different districts. For instance, Gervase Markham, 
writing in the early part of the seventeenth century, observes : 

* If then you desire to have Shepe of a curious fine staple of Woole 
from whence you may draw a thread as fine as silk, you shall see such 
in Herefordshire about Lempster side and other special parts of 
that country ; in that part of Worcestershire joining upon Shrop- 
shire, and many like places ; yet these shepe are very little of bone, 
black faced, and bear a very little burthen. The shepe upon Cotsall 
hills are of better bone, shape and burthen, but their staple is coarser 
and deeper. The shepe in that part of Worcestershire which joyneth 
on Warwickshire and many parts of Warwickshire, all Leicestershire, 
Buckinghamshire and part of Northamptonshire, and that part of 
Nottinghamshire which is exempt from the forest of Sherwood, 
beareth a large boned shepe, of the best shape and deepest staple ; 
chiefly if they be Pasture shepe, yet in their woole coarser than that 
of Cotsall. Lincolnshire, especially in the Salt Marshes, have the 
largest shepe, but not the best Woole, for their legs and bellies are 
long and naked, and their staple is coarser than any other. The 
shepe in Yorkshire and so northward are of reasonable big bone, 
but of a staple rough and hairy, and the Welsh shepe are of all the 
worst, for they are both little and of coarse staple ; and indeed are 
praised only in the dish for they are the sweetest mutton.' 

This extract not only gives some idea of the sheep kept in different parts 
of the country, but Markham's last remark shows the unimportance in 
his day of mutton compared with wool. 

At the present time wool is of such secondary importance in this country 
that it is well to be reminded of the fact that until the eighteenth century 
wool production was the main purpose for which sheep were kept. 

Folding of Sheep. 

Probably the next most important function which the sheep served was 
that of fertilising the arable land in the days when very little farmyard 
manure was produced and artificial manures were yet unthought of. 
In the old village system the arable land was usually cultivated on a 


primitive rotation of two corn crops followed by a fallow. The village 
flock was grazed on the wastes and commons during the day, and at night 
was brought back to be folded on the fallows and stubbles (or, in some cases, 
fastened in houses or sheds). They thus provided the means of enriching 
the arable land at the expense of the commons and wastes, which often lay 
at some distance from the village. Most of us have seen at one time or 
another remarkable demonstrations of the wonderful efficiency of a flock 
of sheep as transporters of fertilising material. Tusser's verse describes 
the system sufficiently well and indicates one of its incidental disadvantages 
in the days when fences were almost non-existent and sheep dogs had not 
had the benefit of the education provided by our Sheep Dog Trials. 

* The land is well hearted with help of the fold, 
For one or two crops, if so long it will hold. 
If shepherd would keep them from stroying of corn, 
The walk of his sheep might the better be borne.' 

The system was general in all arable districts up to the time of the 
great enclosures in the eighteenth century. At the end of that century 
the folding of sheep in the South Midlands was still valued at about 4.0s. 
an acre, or from 45. to 5^. per sheep per annum, though many writers 
suggest that the return was dearly bought. Walking the sheep long 
distances every day and the discomfort and semi-starvation which they 
often experienced on the fallows made mutton production impossible. 
It is perhaps worthy of note that the Wiltshire and Norfolk breeds were 
regarded as specially suitable for folding because they were active and 
' stood well out of the dirt.' This early system of folding on fallows and 
stubbles must not be confused with the modern system of folding on 
root and forage crops, which is a very different matter. 

Milk Production. 

A subsidiary, but not unimportant, additional return from the flock 
in old times was the cheese made from the ewes' milk after the weaning of 
the lambs. The practice of milking the ewes survived in many hill 
districts until comparatively recently, but has now almost completely 
disappeared. Walter of Henley, Tusser and other early writers deal 
rather fully with the matter. The lambs were weaned comparatively 
early and the ewes milked for six or eight weeks, care being taken to dis- 
continue the milking soon enough to allow the ewes to get into good 
condition before the approach of winter. In the General View of the 
Agriculture of Roxburgh (1798) it is estimated that a score of ewes 
would give about two quarts of milk a day ; thirty-six score of ewes, with 
the addition of 25 per cent, of cow's milk, should give a cheese of about 
45 lb. a day. These were, of course, small Cheviot ewes kept on poor hill 
pasture. When we think of the labour involved in collecting and milking 
thirty-six score of ewes every day, and the value of cheese at the present 
time, we can hardly be surprised that the practice has died out. At the 
same time, there are other aspects of the milking of ewes which require 
mention, and to them I will return. 


Meat Production. 

Early agricultural writers make little reference to mutton. Tusser 
advises the purchase of old crones at the end of August for autumn 
fattening, and included ' fat crones and such old things ' in the farmer's 
daily diet between Michaelmas and Hallowmas. Tusser, Lisle and 
other early writers refer to fat lambs and ' House Lambs,' but the usual 
practice was to kill for meat only those sheep which were too old and 
infirm for further keeping. Losses from disease were very heavy, and 
the lambing percentage was low, so that the need for maintaining the 
numbers of the flock for wool production would make it impossible to 
slaughter young sheep in any great numbers. 

In the eighteenth century great changes took place. The demand for 
wool was greater than ever, but the developments which took place in 
agriculture made it possible to maintain larger numbers of sheep and to 
fatten them in either winter or summer. Among these changes were 
the enclosures, increased attention to drainage, and, above all, the cultiva- 
tion of roots and clover. The growth of the towns and the demands of 
a large industrial population provided the necessary outlet and stimulus 
for the production of mutton on a large scale. The application of Bake- 
well's genius to the development of a sheep capable of maturing early, 
feeding quickly and producing a heavy fat carcase, completed the 
sequence of changes which, for the first time, made meat production 
the object of prime importance in the British sheep industry. 

Following on the changes I have mentioned, and stimulated by the 
constantly growing markets for both mutton and wool, there were other 
important developments in the latter half of the eighteenth and the early 
part of the nineteenth centuries. 

Mountain Sheep Farming. 

The first of these is the development of Mountain sheep farming, which, 
in its present form, dates very largely from the second half of the eighteenth 
century. It is fairly safe to estimate that in Great Britain Mountain sheep 
now outnumber all other breeds put together, and their importance is 
such that we are apt to assume that sheep have always been the chief stock 
kept on mountain land. This certainly was not the case. In the Scottish 
Highlands and in the mountain areas of Wales sheep were, until com- 
paratively recently, of very much less importance than cattle. The 
estimated numbers of different classes of stock in Scotland even at the end 
of the eighteenth century were : 

Horses. Cattle. Sheep. 

243,000 1,047,000 2,852,000 
as compared with 156,316 1,235,999 7.649,551 in 1930 

The figures for Perth, Inverness and Argyll were : 

Horses. Cattle. Sheep. 

36,544 185,937 550.450 

as compared with 21,640 166,738 1,874,177 in 1930 



Had the first estimate been made fifty years earlier, the comparison 
with present-day figures would have been even more striking. 

The Gwydyr Papers throw a very interesting light on the position in 
mountain districts of Wales in the sixteenth century. The following table 
gives the numbers of different classes of stock on eight mountain farms in 
1569, together with particulars of the stock in 193 1 in a neighbouring 
parish. I should like to express my indebtedness to the authorities of 
the National Library of Wales and the Ministry of Agriculture for 
permission to quote the figures. 

Table V. 

Eight Large Farms (1570). 

Neighbouring Parish (i 



. 432 

Cows and heifers in calf 


4 year old Bullocks 

. 80 

in milk . 

. 267 

3 " " " 

. 66 



2 >) >) >5 

. . 76 

Other cattle : 

3 ,, „ Heifers 

. 80 

2 years and above . 

• 39 

2 )) )> >» 

. 70 

I year and under 2 years 

. 118 


. 16 

Under i year . 

• 144 


• 213 

Total cattle 

• 1,033 

Total cattle 

• 573 

'Sheep' . 

• 495 

Ewes kept for breeding 

. 6,712 

' Yearlings ' 

. 152 

Rams and ram lambs . 

• 203 


• 383 

Other sheep : 

I year and above 

• 2,165 

• 1,030 

Under i year 
Total sheep 

• 5,180 

Total sheep. 


Horses (1569) 

• 39 


• 37 


. 215 

Goats . . No information 

Watson has recently given a full account ^ of the development of the 
sheep industry in the Highlands between 1760 and about 181 o and has 
shown how the Black-face replaced both cattle and the old type of sheep 
often referred to by early writers as the Dun-faced breed. In Wales and 
the North of England a similar process undoubtedly took place in 
many mountain areas, but the change was much more gradual, and, 
doubtless partly for that reason, there was no sudden substitution of a 
new breed. In Wales, for instance, I think it is very likely that the old 
Dun-faced breed was also the original type, but it had been gradually 

Transactions of the Highland and Agricultural Society, 1932. 


improved and modified until it became the Welsh Mountain sheep well 
before the period of which we are speaking. 

Arable Sheep Farming. 

Up to the eighteenth century sheep in all parts of the country were 
necessarily what we should now describe as ' grass sheep.' The weeds 
and miscellaneous herbage of the fallows and stubbles could contribute 
comparatively little to the sustenance of the flock. In the fifteenth and 
sixteenth centuries, when wool production was particularly profitable, 
a great increase in sheep stocks took place, and the extra food required 
for them was provided, not by ploughing up land, but by the reverse 
process of converting arable land into pasture, much to the dismay and 
indignation of all except the large landowners and flock-masters. The 
long-wools, which formed the bulk of the production of the country, were 
mainly the product of the grass lands of the Midlands. At the same time, 
the folding of the sheep on the fallows was, as we have seen, an essential 
part of the old English arable system. Therefore, when the fallow was 
replaced by root crops and various forage crops, it was natural that a 
system should be devised under which sheep consumed the crops where 
they grew. Gradually there was developed the system of intensive 
sheep management, best seen about the end of the nineteenth century in 
counties such as Wiltshire, Dorset and Hampshire. There the flocks 
might be kept closely folded on arable land throughout the whole year, 
consuming crops specially grown for them. For such a system our Down 
breeds of sheep are particularly suitable, and without it they would not 
have reached their present degree of excellence as mutton sheep. The 
Dorset Horn in its own country, the Leicester on the Yorkshire Wolds, or 
the Lincoln on the light arable land in its own county are other examples 
of arable sheep, though the system of management in the North was never 
so intensive as that in the South. 

Fat Lamb Industry. 

In recent times the most important changes have been associated with 
the great development of the fat lamb industry, but it would be wrong to 
regard it as a new activity. Tusser, Lisle and others refer to it in writings 
from the seventeenth century onwards, and in the neighbourhood of 
London the practice of obtaining very early fat lambs appears to have been 
quite common. Dorset Horn ewes, as now, were commonly employed 
for this purpose, and the practice of rearing the lambs indoors led to the 
term ' House ' lamb. At the same time, the practice of producing early 
fat lambs was by no means confined to the Home Counties or to Dorset 
Horn ewes. Lisle describes the sending of fat lambs from Wiltshire to 
London at the beginning of the eighteenth century, and in the County 
Reports, to which I must make frequent reference, there is very 
general mention of fat lambs. For instance, in Durham, the draft 
mountain ewes were sold from the high western districts to the lower 
eastern parts of the county, where occupiers could not keep permanent 

















breeding flocks on account of the ' rot.* The proceeds in 1810 are given 
as follows : 

Lamb sold beginning of July 
Ewe sold beginning of October 
Fleece ..... 

Total . . . . 

Deduct the price paid for ewe 

Leaves for a year's keeping 

To show that our large autumn movements of ewes to distant 
parts of the country had their counterpart more than a century ago, 
I may mention that Welsh ewes were largely used in South-East England 
for fat lamb production. I am inclined to think that the fat lamb 
industry was of relatively greater importance at the beginning of the 
nineteenth century than it was in the latter part of the century. The 
general development of agriculture, and particularly of root growing, 
during the first half of the century, encouraged the keeping of lambs for 
fattening on roots during the winter, and of yearlings to be fed on clover 
leys during the summer. In any case, most of us know from our own 
experience that up to quite recently little early lamb was marketed, and 
the meat most commonly consumed was that of young sheep ranging from 
about six months to eighteen months in age, whilst in the hill districts, 
and also in some lowland districts, wethers were kept until they were three 
or four years old. This is now a thing of the past. Two years ago the 
Ministry of Agriculture, in addition to the usual June census, collected 
figures for numbers of stock in January. The following table brings out 
clearly the fact that now the majority of lambs in England and Wales 
are slaughtered before reaching the age of eight or nine months. The 
number of lambs under one year in June was nearly 7 millions, and less 
than half that number in the following January. Of the 3 -4 millions then 
returned, probably not less than i million would be ewe lambs intended 
for breeding purposes, so that of 6 million lambs not intended for breeding, 
3I millions left our farms between June and December. Actually, this 
underestimates the sale of early lambs because the spring lambs sold in 
April and May ought to be added to the June figures, whilst from the 
January number should be taken the autumn lambs born in the south of 
England and the store lambs purchased from Scotland. 

Table VI 


England and 








Ewes for breeding . 




Other sheep, i year 

and above . 




Under i year 





The Present Position of Sheep Farming in Great Britain. 

The rough survey of the history which we have made enables us to 
summarise the present position very briefly, and Table VII enables us to 
consider recent changes. Our sheep can be divided into three large 
groups : 

(a) Mountain and hill flocks. 

(b) Flocks kept largely or mainly on arable land. 

(c) Lowland grass flocks maintained primarily for the production of 

fat lambs. 

Mountain Sheep. — In the Census of Production made in 1908 an 
attempt was made to secure information regarding the numbers of each 
breed of farm livestock in Great Britain. Even at that time the mountain 
breeds included about half the total sheep population. Since 1908 they 
have become of much greater relative importance, not so much because of 
any great increase on their native grazings, but because of their invasion 
of the lowlands, particularly to form temporary flocks for the production 
of fat lambs. 

Table VII brings out the relative stability of the flocks in areas where 
there is a great deal of hill or mountain land. Under present conditions, 
even more than in the past, sheep farming is the only possible system of 
utilising the greater part of such land agriculturally. At the same time, 
there has been little, if any, increase in the number of sheep on the 
mountains, although financial returns from sheep were satisfactory until 
a year or two ago. In many cases the number is strictly limited by the 
area of suitable winter grazing which can be secured within a reasonable 
distance for the lambing ewes and the ewe lambs. In others, where this 
consideration does not arise, the land was fully stocked years ago and has 
probably deteriorated in recent years. In certain Highland counties 
there has even been a substantial reduction in the numbers. This has 
been discussed by Greig and King, and more recently by Watson. De- 
terioration of grazings and, above all, the disappearance of the wether flocks 
are probably the main reasons. In mountain flocks everywhere there 
has been an important change in the type of sheep kept. Formerly 
very large numbers of the wethers were kept until three or four years 
old. Now there is no demand for such old mutton, and practically all the 
wether lambs are sold off the hills in their first autumn. This has 
enabled larger numbers of breeding ewes to be maintained, and has 
provided the lowland farmer with a larger supply of draft ewes and 
store lambs, but in many cases the clearance of the wethers has led to 
deterioration. After the first winter they spent the whole of the year on 
the mountains and ate down a good deal of the rough grass left over 
from the summer, thus contributing to the growth of attractive nutritious 
herbage in the following spring. Moreover, the weight of protein and 
mineral matter annually sold off the grazing is now much greater than 



Table VIL — Change in Sheep Population of Different Counties of 
Great Britain between 1900 and 1930. 


Over 40 "/ 


20 % to 40 


Under 20 ^ 


England : 





























E. Riding 






W. Riding 






N. Riding 





























Scotland ; 















Over 40 %. 

20 % to 40 


Under 20 % 


England : 












Table VII. — continued. 
Increases — continued . 

Over 40 % 


20 % to 40 


Under 20 "J 


Wales : 

















Scotland : 



E. Lothian 


W. Lothian 
























Arable Sheep Farming as developed in the south of England well deserves 
special notice, because it is the one British system in which sheep are 
managed really intensively. The flock is folded on forage and root crops 
practically all the year round. The relatively high productivity of arable 
land and the systematic management of the fold enable large numbers to 
be kept on a given area of land. The sheep secure their food with the 
minimum of exertion on their part ; they usually receive generous supplies 
of cake or concentrated food, and the land is well and evenly manured 
for succeeding crops of corn. Table VII shows how this system of 
farming has suffered. In the fourteen English counties in the first 
column the number of sheep was 5,040,000 in 1900 and is now only 
2,393,000. The reduction in arable flocks must be even greater than 
the figures indicate, because in practically all counties there has been 
some increase in grass sheep. With present costs of labour and prices of 
produce, it is no longer profitable to transfer labour and exertion from the 
sheep to the shepherd, and it is becoming more difficult to obtain men to 
' wait on the sheep,' if I may use a Yorkshire expression. Even more 
important is the fact that the manurial residues left by the sheep fold 
can only be valued at a very low figure, whether one takes the cost of 
purchasing corresponding amounts of manurial ingredients or the direct 
return received in the form of corn. Until last year prices of mutton 
were fairly well maintained, but the disastrously low prices for corn cut 
away the foundation on which the whole system was based. 

The system has been most highly developed on poor thin chalk soils, 
and it is often maintained that such soils can only be kept in cultivation 


by the aid of the fertiHsing effect of the sheep fold. This is claimed to be 
necessary, not only to build up suitable reserves of plant food, but to 
secure satisfactory physical structure in these loose, shallow soils. It is 
worthy of note that the idea finds some confirmation in researches now 
proceeding at Rothamsted. None the less, I am inclined to think that, even 
if com growing again becomes profitable, other methods of maintaining 
soil fertility will be adopted. 

The system of arable sheep farming which, in its fully developed form, 
is peculiar to some of the southern and eastern districts of England can 
not only claim to be a form of intensive farming with relatively high 
production and employment of a large amount of labour, but it is also the 
system under which the mutton qualities of many of the British breeds 
were developed. To it may largely be attributed the clear supremacy 
which our breeds enjoy in all countries where sheep are kept primarily 
for the production of meat. The work of Hammond and others has 
clearly shown that genetic variability in size, rate of growth, early maturity, 
and general carcase quality is only fully expressed under optimum 
conditions of nutrition. Under less satisfactory conditions, the animal 
of exceptionally high potential characters may be indistinguishable from 
the individual which is merely moderately good. This variability must 
be secured if improvement by selection is to be effected, and the reduction 
in arable sheep is therefore not without its disquieting aspect to the live- 
stock improver. It will be noticed that the fourteen counties already 
referred to include the homes of all our Down breeds except the Shrop- 
shire. It is not improbable that the Shropshire also has suffered to the 
same extent, and that the maintenance of the sheep population in the 
native county of the breed is due to a great and overriding influx of grass 
sheep from the Welsh border. 

The Longwools were in the main developed originally on good grass 
land liberally supplemented with produce of arable crops. The Down 
breeds originated in districts where there is little good grassland, and owe 
their improvement largely to breeders whose selective methods were 
aided by the ample food supplies provided by a succession of arable crops. 

For modern conditions, the Longwools with their large, excessively fat 
carcases, and the Downs, handicapped by the cost of labour and other 
considerations already discussed, are (as the table shows) falling behind as 
commercial sheep. It will, however, be necessary for ram-breeding 
flocks to be continued — even if only to provide rams for crossing pur- 
poses — and for such flocks some system of arable management would 
appear to be practically essential, if the standard of our sheep is to be 

The Production of Fat Lambs is no new feature of British sheep farming, 
but during the last thirty or forty years it has attained an importance far 
exceeding its position in any previous period, and now probably the 
majority of lambs not to be kept for breeding purposes are sold for 
slaughter before they are six months old. Changing demands are the 
main reasons for this development. Formerly, early fat lamb was 
regarded as a luxury article only to be consumed by wealthy or extravagant 
people. Now, regardless of cost, the public demands small joints of 


pale, tender meat which can be cooked at once. To provide these, 
well-fattened carcases of 30 to 40 lb. at three or four months old are 
required, and in their production perhaps the main consideration is 
a liberal supply of milk. It is largely because of their excellence as milk 
producers that the hill and mountain ewes have become so popular for 
fat lamb production, other reasons being their small size and their ability 
to find a living on lowland pastures during the winter with little expendi- 
ture on either labour or feeding stuffs. They are available in large 
numbers every autumn, when the drafts from the hill flocks are being 
made, and it suits the lowland farmer better to buy these ewes than to 
rear his own. His land is often too wet and unhealthy for a permanent 
flock, and in most cases it can be put to more profitable use than grazing 
yearling ewes. A very large proportion of the land laid down to grass 
since the war is now stocked with such ' flying ' flocks, and recent work 
of my colleague, E. J. Roberts, has shown that fresh young pastures give 
far better results in fat lamb production than old pasture on similar land. 
One of the questions regarding fat lamb production which I think is 
likely to arise is that of securing satisfactory ' finish ' on the lambs when 
reared on recently formed pastures which every year will become more 
similar to old grass land. 

The special suitability of young grass for fat lamb production largely 
accounts for the remarkable increase in the number of sheep kept in the 
lowland areas of North Wales and the eastern counties of Scotland 
(see Table VII). In both cases there is a considerable area of arable land 
farmed on a rotation which includes a temporary ley. The very simple 
modification of the system involved in extending the length of the ley 
made it easy to secure the relatively attractive returns from fat lamb 
production, and enabled farmers to reduce labour costs and unprofitable 
corn production. 

Summing up the whole situation, we may say that we have almost 
reached the state of affairs in which hill and mountain flocks are main- 
tained primarily to produce breeding ewes of a hardy, heavy-milking 
character ; a relatively few arable sheep have as their chief object the 
breeding of rams of excellent mutton qualities mainly for crossing pur- 
poses; and the draft ewes from the hills and the rams from the arable 
flocks meet in the lowland pastures to produce lambs for sale almost 
entirely in the summer and autumn months. 

The great concentration on production in summer is one of the 
dangerous features of the present situation. It makes our supply over 
the year very uneven, and there can be no doubt that this is one of the 
reasons for the decrease in the proportion of home-fed meat shown in 
Table IV. 

So far I have not discussed our sheep population as a whole, and in 
doing so it is necessary to remember that it is composed of sections of 
widely differing character. The graphs enable us to see the position at 
a glance. The one for total numbers shows that there has been a great 
deal of fluctuation, and indicates very well the big drop (nearly 4 millions) 
caused by the fluke years 1879-80, and that brought about by food pro- 
duction measures during the war. There is also evidence of a general 

























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downward trend, which, for the time being at least, has been arrested, 
but I fail to see anything which would suggest the existence of regular 
movements similar to the well-known cycles in the case of pigs. In fact, 
it seems absurd to expect anj^hing of the kind when during the last thirty 
years we have had such conflicting changes as those shown in Table VII, 
with great increases in some parts of the country and great decreases in 

The other two curves show how the general downward trend has been 
caused. The number of lambs, and presumably, therefore, the number 
of ewes, has remained remarkably steady throughout the fifty years, with 
the exception of the two periods already mentioned. If we allow for the 
greater number of lambs now sold off the farms before June 4, and therefore 
not included in the returns, there has probably been a slight upward 
tendency. The downward trend of the figures for total sheep is mainly 
due to the steady reduction in the number of ' other sheep one year and 
above.' This class consists almost entirely of animals to be fattened as 
yearlings or older sheep kept for fattening. These have dropped by at 
least 50 per cent, in the last forty years, and this decrease has rather masked 
the position of ewes and lambs. 

Desirability of Sheep Farming. 

Before considering possible developments, we may perhaps put the 
question whether we consider our large sheep population to be a desirable 
feature of British agriculture. 

The keeping of sheep on a large scale is usually associated with extensive 
farming in zones beyond the areas in which cultivation or dairying is 
economically possible. Yet in this densely populated country we find 
to-day sheep grazing over large areas of land which formerly grew good 
corn and appears to be not unlike that used to-day in other countries for 
corn growing, dairying or some other form of more intensive cultivation. 
Some idea of the effect of a large sheep population can be obtained 
from a study of Table II, where it will be seen that per unit area we 
have the largest sheep population of any European country, and the 
smallest human population employed in agriculture. We cannot 
attempt to make an exact correlation, but no one is likely to question 
the effect of grass sheep farming. At different periods in British history 
it has caused hardship and bitterness, and has even led to legislative 

The high price of wool about the beginning of the sixteenth century led 
to the conversion of arable land to pasture in order to provide for increased 
flocks. At that time the welfare of agriculture and the maintenance of 
the rural population was a matter of prime concern to both Church and 
State, so that preachers and writers declaimed against the sheep ' that were 
wont to be so myke and tame, and so smal eaters, now, as I hear saie, be 
become so great devowerers, and so wylde, that they eat up and swallow 
down the very men themselfes,' while legislation was framed to try to keep 
the land in cultivation. 


Another well-known period was the latter half of the eighteenth century 
when large sheep farms were being established in the Highlands. The 
Black-face sheep were able to utilise many of the higher grazings which 
previously had never given any considerable return ; but they required for 
wintering the lower slopes and the land which up to then had been culti- 
vated. The establishment of sheep farms therefore involved the removal 
of the Highland cattle and of the population which depended so largely 
on them. The feeling of the time is well and moderately put by Dr. John 
Smith in the View of the Agriculture of Argyll (1805) : ' That our moun- 
tains are better adapted for sheep than for black cattle cannot admit of 
a doubt. Under the sheep system they make a much better return both 
to the farmer and to the landlord ; and furnish in the wool of the sheep 
a large fund for manufacture and commerce. But all these advantages are 
more than balanced by the effect which sheep have produced upon popu- 
lation. When one man occupies space which would suffice for twenty 
families, his private gain will by no means compensate for public 

Possibly, in time to come, the present period may be regarded as com- 
parable with those I have just mentioned. In many counties the situation 
is obscured by the fact that, along with the laying of land to grass and a 
great increase in the number of grass sheep, there has simultaneously 
been a great reduction in arable sheep. In some counties this complica- 
tion does not exist, the most striking areas being North Wales and the 
arable counties of the east of Scotland. I had hoped to be able to 
correlate the changes in the former, but, unfortunately, the detailed results 
of the 1 93 1 census will not be published for some time, so that I can 
only say that a remarkable increase in the number of sheep has obviously 
been accompanied by a very marked decline in employment and in the 
general life of the countryside. 

We must, however, be fair to the sheep, and those who wish to impute 
blame must take care that they put it on the right shoulders. But for the 
development of the sheep industry, the farmers of many areas would 
indeed be in a parlous condition by now. We know how unsatisfactory 
are the returns from ordinary arable farming, and there are many districts 
unsuited for dairying or intensive cultivation. 

Grass sheep farming based on fat lamb production has enabled many 
farmers, not only in North Wales but all over Great Britain, to hold 
their own when, without it, they would have gone under. It is no use 
abusing the farmer because of the undoubted evils which have accom- 
panied the adoption of this type of farming. As in the Middle Ages, 
the cure for the ills can only come through the improvement in the 
returns from what most of us will regard as more desirable systems of 

Efficiency of the Sheep. — We may apply another test in considering the 
desirability of a large sheep population. How do they compare with other 
farm animals as a converter of crops or raw feeding stuffs into meat for 
human consumption .' The following table is taken from a report drawn 
up by a committee of the Royal Society in 1917 — Food Supply of the 
United Kingdom : 


Table VIII. 

Lb. Starch equivalent in Fodder required to produce 
1 ,000 Calories in form of : 

2-9 Milk from good cow (800 galls.) 

3-0 Pork 

4-7 Veal (6 months) 

4-7 Milk from poor cow (300 galls.) 

5-3 Mutton (ii-i 2 months) 

7-0 Eggs (140 egg hen) 

7-0 Baby beef (17 months) 

9-0 Steer beef (2^ years) 

The figures quoted probably require modification in the light of more 
recent results and also to adapt them to altered systems of management, 
but it will generally be accepted that from this point of view the sheep, 
though better than the steer, compares badly with the milking cow or 
the porker. 

It is, however, necessary to qualify this conclusion by considering not 
merely the amount and energy value of the food consumed, but also its 
nature and cost. In the case of the fattening bullock, for instance, the 
food may consist largely of straw — a by-product of corn-growing, and on 
most farms an unsaleable article. On the other hand, the pig and the fowl 
require considerable proportions of meal and grain, which have to be 
bought at market price either from the grain merchant or, in the case of an 
arable farm, from the cropping section of the farm business. The sheep 
occupies an intermediate position. It cannot utilise large quantities of 
straw, but makes good use of such crops as grass, roots and hay. Except 
in the case of arable flocks it receives comparatively little corn or 
concentrated foods. 

Still, we are bound to admit that grass sheep under ordinary manage- 
ment give only a low return of food, and to those who wish to see a large 
rural population they are about the most objectionable form of enterprise 
in which the farmer can engage. 

Viewing the matter from this standpoint, there is much force in the 
argument that we should leave sheep farming to more remote, thinly 
populated countries, and use our limited area and large population to 
produce forms of food which give a high return per acre, require a good 
deal of labour, and cannot easily be transported over large distances. 

On the other hand, if we take the farmer's point of view we can make 
out a strong case for the sheep. 

(i) Even allowing for considerable extensions of forest and woodland, 
we have large areas of hill and mountain land, which, under present 
conditions, can only be economically utilised for the production of sheep, 
and they carry a very large proportion of our total sheep flock. Our 
mountain flocks can only be maintained if they have an outlet for the 
draft ewes and store lambs which largely constitute their saleable product. 


(2) Although we now have under grass large areas which most of us 
would like to see used for some kind of arable or mixed farming, grass 
is the crop to which soil and climate make a great deal — perhaps most — 
of our land in Great Britain specially suited. The mild, wet, equable 
climate of the greater part of the country not only makes cultivation 
difficult, but favours the growth of grass to some extent throughout the 
year. Sheep managed in such a way as to meet modern market demands 
fit in extremely well with grass production. So many fat lambs are now 
sold in summer that the annual cycle of the sheep population very closely 
resembles that of production from grassland. Numbers are at the 
minimum in winter and the requirements of the flock are at their 
maximum in May and June. Even the autumn flush of grass is met by 
the influx of sheep from hill grazings. 

(3) Grass sheep not only require the minimum expenditure on labour 
and feeding stuffs but, compared with other forms of stock, they involve 
little outlay on buildings, water supply and other permanent equipment. 

(4) Compared with other nations, our consumption of mutton and 
lamb is very high. The home-produced article has a great advantage in 
that it can be marketed fresh, whereas practically all imported mutton 
and lamb is frozen. 

Possible Developments. 

So far, in discussing the sheep industry, I have had in mind our existing 
methods of sheep management, but we can be quite sure that they will 
not continue unchanged, and we may devote a few minutes to considering 
the directions in which changes and developments would be most desirable. 

Winter Lamb. — At present, the weakest point is the low return per 
unit of the flock. We keep a ewe for two years before she produces any- 
thing beyond a fleece, and in these days that is worth very little. Even 
when she is mature, we keep her for twelve months in order that she may 
breed a lamb or a Iamb and a half, which she suckles for twelve or sixteen 
weeks. Thus the actively producing period is limited to about a quarter 
of the year : the product is perhaps 40-60 lb. of carcase. The cow, on 
the other hand, is producing milk for about ten months in the year. 

The remedy often suggested is to keep sheep which will give two 
crops of lambs a year. Some breeds, of which the outstanding 
instances are the Merino, and, among British sheep, the Dorset Horn, 
will breed at almost any time, and this makes it possible to obtain 
two crops of lambs in a year. It is quite possible to secure this occasion- 
ally with other breeds, and I have no doubt that by selection and proper 
management of the ewes two crops could be obtained fairly regularly in 
flocks where the lambs are sold at an early age. The advocates of such a 
system very rightly point to the need for a better distribution of supplies 
throughout the year. At present there is a huge supply of lambs and sheep 
on the market from June to October, and very little from January to May. 
Moreover, the class of meat provided for the winter six months of the year 
is not the young milk-fed lamb for which there is most demand. They 
also urge that the production of young lamb in the present off season would 
enable the farmer to take advantage of the high prices which such lamb 


at present commands at that time of year. Obviously the argument is 
open to criticism, because we cannot have it both vsrays. If we equalise 
supplies we are likely to equalise prices, and no one would suggest that 
winter lamb can be produced at the same cost as summer lamb. 

There is another possibility to be kept in mind. If means are found 
for placing New Zealand and South American lamb on the British market 
in such a state that it compares with our own summer lamb in freshness 
and condition, we shall be driven to concentrate more exclusively on 
summer production. In a world perfectly organised this would seem to 
be the natural way of exploiting fully the difference in the growing 
seasons of the Northern and Southern hemispheres. 

Still, there is something to be said for two crops on farms where the 
grass land is all of good quality and there is no possibility of putting the 
ewes on to inferior, cheap pasture for the greater part of the year. In any 
case, there is no likelihood of winter supplies even approaching summer 
supplies, and the overhead costs are not greatly increased when the double 
crop of lambs is raised. 

Need for greater prolificacy. — Perhaps a more hopeful way of making 
better use of the ewe's capabilities of production is by securing an increase 
in the lamb crop. The lamb crop for Great Britain, calculated from 
numbers on the farms on June 4, is only about 102 per cent., i.e. almost 
exactly one lamb from one ewe. Even allowing for the fact that a good 
many lambs are sold as early fat lambs before June 4, and for the large 
numbers on poor hill grazings where we do not want twins, this is a very 
poor result. On good lowland, a ewe rearing only one lamb will put on 
weight during the suckling period, and, unless shells to be sold for slaughter, 
this represents wasteful use of grass. A ewe of a good milking type 
can well rear two lambs on reasonably good grass, and if this were secured 
as an average on good land, our lamb crop over the country as a whole 
should be about 150 per cent. This would either give an increase of four 
or five millions on our present total, or allow of our present numbers to 
be reared on a much smaller area of land. This, surely, is one of the 
developments we may anticipate, and I think that we may also expect to 
see an increase in the practice of breeding from ewe lambs, so that under 
good conditions the almost unproductive period from twelve to twenty- 
four months may be eliminated. 

Milking Ewes.— I sometimes wonder if we shall not return some day to 
the old system of milking sheep. A ewe which has had her lamb taken 
away in mid- June is just at the very height of her milk production, and 
would give a good deal of milk for a couple of months. Last summer in 
Norway I was told that girls in the saeters on the mountains each milk 
and make the cheese from a flock of sixty goats. It occurred to me that it 
would be just as easy to deal with a flock of twice the number of half-bred 
ewes on good enclosed land. The invention of a cheap and simple milking 
machine for sheep and goats might make the idea feasible, even in a country 
like this where we have come to despise small contributions to income, 
particularly if they involve work on Saturday afternoons or Sundays. 

But in suggesting the possibility of a return to the old system of milking 
the ewes, I have in mind much more than the question of securing an 


additional return from the flock. When a heavy milking type of sheep 
is kept for early fat lamb production, one of the troubles experienced is 
the occurrence of what is now usually termed toxaemia of pregnancy, 
which is very often fatal and in some years causes enormous loss. This 
appears to be associated, among other conditions, with fatness in the 
ewes at the end of the summer, and, consequently, is encouraged by the 
practice of removing the lambs at an early age, so that the ewe has no 
outlet for her productive capacity during the summer. 

Production of Wool. — The current price of wool makes the time oppor- 
tune for considering how far we are wise in trying to combine wool and 
meat production. Wool is eminently one of the products best suited for 
production in remote parts of the world, where arable farming, and even 
meat production, are out of the question. Weight for weight, it is far 
more valuable than grain, and, unlike meat, it does not readily deteriorate 
in handling, storage and transport. Apart from the competition from 
such areas overseas, which shows no signs of slackening, there is the 
question of the diversion of food from the production of meat and milk. 
Wool, as taken off the sheep's back, consists mainly of protein and grease, 
with a little moisture and a certain amount of soil and other impurity. 
Allowing for the large percentage of water in fresh meat, one may guess 
that a fleece of lo lb. represents the product of food capable of producing 
15 or 20 lb. of saleable meat. At the present time the meat would be 
much more valuable, and the diversion of food from meat production to 
wool production must at the present prices of wool and meat be 

Of course, I do not suggest that we should aim at doing away with the 
fleece altogether. If the sheep is to retain its character as an outdoor 
animal it must be protected against the weather, but a short, close fleece 
of, say, 2 or 3 lb. for small breeds and 4 or 5 lb. for the larger breeds would 
be adequate for this purpose. Actually, the argument against a large, 
long, heavy fleece is even stronger than I have stated, because it hampers 
the movement of the animal and does not give good protection against rain. 

In days when most sheep were kept to a greater age and had long ' store ' 
periods in which meat production was not particularly desired, the posi- 
tion was difi^erent. Now ewes are almost the only adult animals we keep, 
and the case is at least as strong if we consider the breeding ewe instead 
of the fattening animal. The young lamb will give a better return for 
extra protein and fat than the wool merchant will give for the same 
amount of similar substances in its fleece. 

In this connection, I may refer to the fact that in many breeds, ewes 
with heavy, strong fleeces have not the best reputation for milk production 
and prolificacy. 

Possible Changes in Function, Management and Demand. — One of the 
possibilities which must not be overlooked is a complete change in the 
purpose for which the sheep is required. Is it possible that the sheep 
which already does so much to meet the needs of man has products now 
almost disregarded which may in time become as important as meat or 
wool ? We may certainly look forward to improvements in feeding, not 
only by better rationing of supplementary foods, but also by more skilful 



management of grassland. Is it possible that we may return to the practice 
of keeping at least a considerable proportion of our flocks in a way less 
wasteful of heat and energy on the part of the sheep ? At present they 
must utilise a large proportion of their intake of nutriment in obtaining 
their food and maintaining their body heat. The housing or ' cotting ' 
of sheep is no new idea. Shall we ever return to it on a large scale ? 

A more probable change is an alteration in demand. At present, lamb 
is the only form of sheep meat for which there is a real demand. It is 
difficult to sell mutton even from good quality yearling sheep, and old 
ewes can hardly be given away, but it is not inconceivable that new methods 
of cooking, or the establishment of a canning industry, or the need for 
greater national and individual economy, may again bring larger, older 
and fatter sheep to the front. If the consuming public are brought to 
take the same interest in food values that the intelligent farmer shows in 
the purchase of feeding stuffs, it seems unlikely that they will disregard 
the great differences in value for money at present provided by diff'erent 
classes of meat. Perhaps it would not be wise to push this suggestion too 
far. I fear that sheep farming would not be a distinctive feature of a 
vegetarian Britain ! 

Multiplicity of Breeds. — Of more immediate interest is the oft- debated 
question whether we need so many different breeds of sheep. Gervase 
Markham, in the account which I have quoted, mentioned six breeds. 
At the end of the eighteenth century we find a considerable increase. 
George Culley, for instance, describes the following : Leicester, Lincoln, 
Teeswater, Devon Natts, Exmoor, Dorset Horn, Herefords or Ryelands, 
Southdown, Norfolk, the Heath breed (Black-faces), Herdwickes, Cheviots, 
Spanish (Merino), Dun-faces and Shetlands. This list, however, was 
by no means complete, because he failed to mention such breeds as the 
Cotswolds, Wiltshires and Welsh, all of which were kept in considerable 
numbers ; and, while we do not expect to find such names as Hampshires 
and Shropshires, it is surprising that he did not mention some of the 
local types from which these sprang. 

Making these necessary additions, the list of British breeds existing 
at the end of the eighteenth century becomes quite a formidable one. 
Therefore, when we are accused of having far too many breeds of sheep, 
we can at least say that most of them were developed by our rather 
remote ancestors. We must, however, plead guilty to having increased, 
rather than reduced, the number, and I feel that I must consider briefly 
this multiplicity of breeds and discuss the necessity for maintaining so 

Merino wool constitutes about 40 per cent, of the world's total clip, so that 
probably about one- third of all sheep are of this one type, and when we 
reflect that five or six breeds and their crosses probably comprise about 
half the sheep population of the world, it does seem absurd that we should 
maintain thirty or forty in a small country, with a sheep population of 
only 25 millions. The disadvantages, particularly from the point of view 
of marketing, are obvious. 

There are, however, other aspects of the matter which I should like to 
submit. I have already pointed out that most of our breeds can be traced 


back at least as far as the eighteenth century. The end of the eighteenth 
and the first half of the nineteenth century was a period of wonderful 
development in British agriculture, which, in particular, occupied the 
attention of landowners who in those days carried out a tremendous 
amount of experimental work. One of the most popular forms of activity 
was that of endeavouring to substitute'new and improved breeds of live- 
stock for old local breeds. Replacements did take place in some cases. 
The old Dun-faced breed was replaced over the greater part of the 
Highlands by the Black-face ; Cheviots were established in the North 
of Scotland, and so on. 

But these examples, though important in themselves, were, after all, 
exceptions to the general rule that in most cases the new introductions 
either had no effect or merely modified the existing breeds. They did not 
replace the local breeds. This is the more surprising when we remember 
that about this time there took place the great change in the relative 
importance of the functions which the sheep was required to serve. 
To-day, in Australia and New Zealand, the change over from wool 
production to meat production involves the replacement of the Merino 
by a mutton breed of sheep of altogether different origin and character. 
In this country, in the eighteenth century, the change from wool to mutton 
did not in the main involve the disappearance of the old breeds. They 
were modified, but retained their identity. To my mind, this suggests 
that so far we have failed to fathom the full significance of breed differences 
and breed distribution. We have paid great attention to meat and wool, 
but have failed to analyse fully the more basic vital characters on which 
the survival of semi- wild animals must largely depend. In the case of 
a sheep which spends its life completely out of doors and is dependent 
mainly on grass and other semi-natural food, there is almost certainly 
a delicate adjustment of the animal's physiology to the local environment. 
Hammond's recently published work on the grovrth of the sheep 
suggests all kinds of variables which may have to be fitted to corresponding 
differences of season, amount and composition of food, rate of growth of 
vegetation, and so forth. Ought we not to regard the animal's general 
physiology, including this special adjustment, as the element of funda- 
mental importance on to which the more oljvious characters of meat, 
wool and milk production have to be grafted ? If so, is it not deserving 
of much more study than it has hitherto received ? 

It might be urged that great differences of environment also exist in 
other countries, but that they do not think it necessary to maintain special 
breeds for small areas. For instance, I imagine that the differences of 
soil and climate are probably no greater in Great Britain than those in 
New Zealand, and yet we have more than twice as many breeds. In reply 
to that, one might say that for all we know there may be as great variation 
in the sheep stock of New Zealand in fifty years' time as at the present time 
in this country. 

Another point occurs to one after reading Hammond's book. The 
first requirement in our ordinary systems of stock improvement is varia- 
tion. Maximum variation occurs under optimum conditions. In general 
it may be said that British conditions at their best are optimum conditions 


for the type of sheep we have developed. We have no long periods of 
drought, and, with good management, a generous food supply can be 
provided all the year round. It is largely because of this that we have 
in the past been able to do so much in the way of developing our various 
breeds of live stock. Attempts to standardise our stock too strictly would 
largely preclude advance in the future and nullify the suitability of our 
conditions for stock improvement. We have not yet reached finality in 
any direction. 

Present conditions and market demands seem likely to lead to the dis- 
appearance of some of our breeds, but I hope that before the process goes 
very far, a detailed survey will be made of the relationship between the 
various breeds and the conditions to which each appears to be particularly 
suited, in the hope that thereby the peculiarities of the breeds may be 
tested and utilised in other parts of the world. We do not at present 
require their large size and fat meat, but it is possible that each possesses 
some special characters which we are not yet able to appreciate properly, 
but which may be of immense value elsewhere, even if they are no longer 
specially important in this country. It is pleasing to know that Nichols 
has already started such an investigation. 


It would be impossible for me to close my address without some 
reference to the importance of sheep diseases. In a detailed history of 
British agriculture, among the dates which would stand out most clearly 
would be the many years in which disastrous losses of sheep from disease 
have occurred, but I suspect that at all times what has been regarded as 
more or less normal loss has been even more important than the exceptional 
losses experienced periodically. In early days there is no doubt that this 
annual loss was extremely heavy. For instance, Thorold Rogers quotes 
records of about the end of the thirteenth century which show that on 
eight sheep-breeding estates with an average of 1,133 sheep, the average 
loss was 221, or close upon 20 per cent. He also points out that in the 
early days of the landlord and tenant system, the owner of the land 
insured the tenant against extraordinary losses of stock, particularly sheep. 

From the earliest days of sheep farming in this country, liver fluke has 
been much the most important single cause of loss. I have already 
alluded to the fact that in 1879-81 it accounted for three or four million 
sheep, or 10 per cent, to 15 per cent, of our total population at the time. 
More recently, 1920-21, 1924-25, 1931-32 have all been periods of great 
loss, though more localised than the 1879-81 epidemic. Few things give 
me greater satisfaction than the reflection that it is largely due to the work 
at Bangor of my colleagues, Montgomerie and Walton, who followed up 
the researches of many workers, that this trouble, which has caused such 
untold losses to British agriculture for centuries, may now be combated 
with a good chance of success. Various workers have devised methods 
of control for the most important of the other parasites which infest our 
flocks, but there is still great need for much more research both on these 
and on the more obscure sheep diseases which, until quite recently, have 
received very little attention from veterinary workers. 


Gaiger's work on braxy, Balling's success in producing effective 
inoculations for the prevention of lamb dysentery, are striking illustrations 
of work which has already achieved a great measure of success in con- 
trolling diseases which twenty years ago were altogether elusive. We 
may hope that equally fruitful results will attend the investigations of the 
Diseases of Animals Research Association in Scotland on ' louping-ill ' 
or ' trembling,' and the work of McEwan in Kent on ' strike.' Similarly 
those of us who are specially interested in hill sheep are eagerly watching 
the work of the Rowett Institute. But although the sheep farmer has 
reason to be grateful for the great advances of recent years, he knows 
that his annual loss is still great, and he feels that it is in this direction 
that research will be of greatest immediate help to him. 

Printed in England at The Ballantyne Press 

Spottiswoode, Ballantyne & Co. Ltd. 

Colchester, Loiuion & Eton 




Thirty-seventh Report of Committee (Dr. F. J. W. Whipple, Chairman ; 
Mr. J. J. Shaw, Secretary ; Dr. C. Vernon Boys, Dr. J. E. Crombie,^ 
Sir F. W. Dyson, Sir R. T. Glazebrook, Dr. Wilfred Hall, Dr. H. 
Jeffreys, Sir H. Lamb, Prof. H. M. Macdonald, Prof. E. A. 
Milne, Mr. R. D. Oldham, Prof. H. H. Plaskett, Prof. H. C. 
Plummer, Prof. A. O. Rankine, Rev. J. P. Rowland, S.J., Prof. 
R. A. Sampson, Mr. F. J. Scrase, Sir Napier Shaw, Capt. H. Shaw, 
Sir F. E. Smith, Dr. R. Stoneley, Sir G. T. Walker). 

This is the thirty-seventh Report of the Committee appointed by the 
British Association for Seismological Investigations, the Committee having 
been formed in 1895 by the amalgamation of two committees. One of 
these committees had been appointed for the investigation of Earth Tremors 
in this country and had presented five reports, whilst the other, with John 
Milne as the moving spirit, had been investigating the Earthquakes and 
Volcanic Phenomena of Japan for fourteen years. Thus the British Asso- 
ciation has given continuous support to seismology for fifty-one years. 

Up to his death in 191 3 the reports of the Committee were prepared by 
Milne, and from that date onwards to his own death in 1930 Prof. H. H. 
Turner, Chairman since 1907, was responsible not only for the reports but 
for the organisation of the greater part of the work recorded in them. 

Since 1 92 1 , the year in which the Seismological Section of the International 
Geodetic and Geophysical Union was constituted, the principal care of the 
Committee has been the International Seismological Summary. This is 
a publication in which details are given of all the instrumental records of 
earthquakes occurring in any part of the world. Returns, known as seismo- 
logical bulletins, are transmitted from all observatories to Oxford, where 
the observations for each day are transcribed on cards. By comparison of 
the observations the epicentre of every appreciable earthquake and the time 
of occurrence are determined. The distance of each observatory from the 
epicentre is computed , as well as the times of transmission of the waves 
which are revealed by the various phases of the seismograms. Finally, for 
the ' preliminary tremors,' which correspond with the primary waves of 
compression and distortion, the times of transmission are compared with 
standard tables. The results of these calculations are tabulated for printing 
and duly checked. It will be seen that the preparation of the Summary is 
a task of considerable magnitude. It occupies fully the time of three persons. 

The International Seismological Summary was initiated and developed by 
Prof. Turner. He left the work well organised. In accordance with the 
wishes of the University authorities, the routine has been continued at the 
University Observatory during the two years that have elapsed since his 
death. His successor in the Savilian Chair of Astronomy, Prof. H. H. 
^ Dr. Crombie died on August 6, 1932. 


Plaskett, was appointed in 1931 and has recently taken up his duties. Prof. 
Plaskett, who has been co-opted as a member of the Committee, is anxious 
that the seismological department of the Observatory shall remain a centre 
of the international organisation. 

For the present satisfactory position of the work much credit is due to 
Mr. F. A. Bellamy, who has been in charge of the Observatory for two 
years, to Miss E. F. B. Bellamy, who has been editor of the Summary, 
to Mr. J. S. Hughes, who has been responsible for the determination of 
epicentres and the preparation of the manuscript, and to Mr. S. C. Cook, who 
has served as computer. 

Responsibility for the financial arrangements for the production of the 
Summary has remained with the British Association Seismological Com- 
mittee. The funds allotted by the International Seismological Association 
(to give the Seismological Section of the International Union for Geodesy 
and Geophysics its new name) have not sufficed hitherto to pay the cost of 
printing the Summary. During the year under review the International 
Seismological Association has provided £259, whilst the cost of printing 
four quarters of the International Seismological Summary has been £351. 
The British Association placed £250 at the disposal of the Committee, £150 
from general funds and £100 from the Caird Fund. Roughly speaking, the 
£100 served to meet the deficit on the printing of the Summary, whilst the 
£150 was used for computing and for incidental expenses. The principal 
part of the cost of the preparation of the Summary was borne by the 
University of Oxford, generous assistance being given, however, by Dr. J. 

The Committee is informed that, for the present, no increase in the sub- 
vention from the International Seismological Association towards the cost 
of the International Seismological Summary is to be anticipated. It is 
found that considerable economy can be effected by adopting the ' Replika ' 
process for reproducing the Summary, the cost of setting up the matter in 
printer's type being obviated. On the other hand, additional expenses must 
be incurred at Oxford. 

In accordance with a resolution adopted by the Council in 19 14, an annual 
grant of £100 is made to the Committee from the Caird Fund. To meet 
the special expenses of the year the Committee asks for an additional grant 
of £100. 

The Committee is most anxious for the international seismological work 
to be maintained at Oxford, where it is so well organised, and hopes that, 
before the International Seismological Association meets next year, it will 
be possible to announce that the Seismological Department of the University 
Observatory has been put on a permanent footing. This will be the best 
way of recognising the part played by British scientists, by Mallet, Knott, 
Ewing, Oldham, Rayleigh, Love, Davison, and especially by Milne and 
Turner, in the development of seismology. The Committee would cordially 
welcome any proposal which might be made by the University of Oxford 
for establishing a Readership in Geophysics. No better memorial of the 
work of Prof. H. H. Turner could be conceived. 

The International Seismological Summary and the Revised 
Seismological Tables. 

Three quarterly issues of the International Seismological Summary were 
made during the year ending June 1932, those for the last quarter of 1927 
and the first two quarters of 1928. The Summary for the third quarter of 


1928 was published in July, and that for the fourth quarter was then in 

The following table showing the progress of the Summary has been 
prepared. The steady increase in the number of pages is mainly due to the 
growth in the number of well-equipped seismological stations. 

Year of 

Cost of 

Date of 




























































• — 


The tables by Dr. Harold Jeffreys referred to in the last report have been 
published by the British Association, the cost being met by the Gray-Milne 
Fund. These tables were despatched from Oxford to all recipients of the 
Summary, as were two papers, one by Dr. Jeffreys alone, the other by 
Dr. Jeffreys and Dr. Comrie, dealing with the genesis of the tables. 

The new tables are being used together with the accepted Zoppritz- 
Turner tables in the preparation of the International Seismological Summary 
for the year 1929. The Summary is to be published in such a form that 
comparisons between the merits of these and other tables will be facilitated. 

One of the tasks undertaken by the Seismological Committee in 1895 
was the development of a seismograph suitable for general use in recording 
distant earthquakes. The instrument devised by Milne was found to 
serve its purpose, and a large number of such instruments was distributed 
to various parts of the world. The principal drawback to the Milne seismo- 
graph is the absence of any means of damping the oscillations of the 
pendulum. In 1912 Milne co-operated with Mr. J. J. Shaw in the design 
of the Milne-Shaw seismograph, a remarkably efficient machine. After 
preliminary trials the first Milne-Shaw instrument was brought into regular 
use at Bidston in 1914. Fifty-five Milne-Shaw seismographs have now 
been constructed. Of these five have been supplied to the Committee. 
The distribution of these is as follows : 

Der of 


Date of 






Cape Town 






Perth, W. Australia 





The machine at Edinburgh was placed originally at Eskdalemuir in 191 5 
for comparison with the Galitzin seismographs, and was removed to Edin- 
burgh in 1919. No. I was supplied to Mr. W. E. Plummer at Bidston in 


1914. It was transferred to Oxford in exchange for No. 32 (see report, 

Early in 193 1 a letter was received from Dr. H. Spencer-Jones, H.M. 
Astronomer at the Cape, in which he expressed the opinion that the 
seismographic records at the Royal Observatory were of little value. Owing 
to the instability of the zero of the seismographs it had been necessary to keep 
the sensitivity very low. The Committee agreed with Dr. Jones's view that 
the instrument should be moved to another site, but considered it important 
that it should be kept in South Africa. Subsequently Dr. Grindley volun- 
teered to erect the seismograph at the Cape Town University, which is 
several miles from the Observatory. In the basement of the University 
he found both microseisms and changes in zero relatively small. Prof. 
Alexander Brown, head of the Department of Applied Mathematics, has 
kindly undertaken to continue the observations until the end of the year 
1932. If the results are satisfactory the seismograph will remain in opera- 
tion at the University. 

Mr. Shaw has supplied a Milne-Shaw seismograph to the Department 
of Geology, Liverpool University, where regular observations are to be 
commenced in September. Two Milne-Shaw seismographs are being 
despatched to the Department of Geology, University of Vermont. 

Mr. Shaw has also made during the year a seismograph adapted for 
public exhibition. This instrument is set up on the third floor of the Store 
of Messrs. Selfridge & Co. Ltd. in London, and attracts much attention. 
On several occasions the public have watched whilst severe earthquakes 
were being recorded. The records are on smoked paper on an open scale. 
It is found that the pendulum, which is supported by one of the main 
stanchions of the building, is affected neither by traffic in the streets nor 
by the movement of people in the Store. 

British Earthquakes. 

In 1932, January 10, at 4.15, a slight earthshake was felt at two villages, 
Aylesham and Nonington, near Canterbury. Three distinct rumblings 
were heard below ground in the Snowdown mine, dust flew and hurt men's 
eyes, mice began to squeak, and the miners ran from the coal face. It is 
presumed that the earthshake was due to some collapse of old workings in 
the mine. 

A small earthquake, which was felt in Yorkshire in 1932, May 25, at 22 h. 
G.M.T., was recorded by the seismographs at Stonyhurst and Durham, 
though not by those at Bidston and West Bromwich. The epicentre 
appears to have been in the Hope Valley near Sheffield. 

Small disturbances not recorded by seismographs were reported by news- 
papers as occurring on the following dates : 

1931, Dec. 18, Nottingham. 1932, March 17, Oban. 

1932, Jan. 13, South Carnarvonshire. 1932, July 7, Shrewsbury. 
1932, Jan. 16, Manchester. 

Deep Focus Earthquakes. 
The question of the depth of focus of earthquakes continues to occupy 
the attention of seismologists. As was mentioned in the last report of the 
Committee, records of the earthquake which occurred on February 20, 
193 1, were collected at Kew Observatory. A discussion of the records by 
Mr. F. J. Scrase will be published shortly. The focus of this earthquake, 
the epicentre of which was in Siberia near the Sea of Japan, was at a depth of 
360 km. A good example of an earthquake with deep focus is dealt with 
in one of the recent issues of the International Seismological Summary. 


For this earthquake, which had its epicentre in the New Hebrides, Mr. 
Hughes gives in the Summary the focal depth 0-04 of the earth's radius, 
or 250 km. Excellent confirmation is provided by a special investigation 
of this earthquake by Father Stechschulte of St. Louis. 

High Focus Earthquakes. 

That earthquakes with deep foci occur is now well established, but the 
significance of the observations which led Turner to attribute high foci to 
certain earthquakes is not yet known . A good example of such an earthquake 
was that of r 928 , January 6 , the epicentre of which was in East Africa , midway 
between Mt. Kenia and Mt. Elgin. Mr. Hughes gives the height of the 
focus as -CIS R or 100 km. It is certain that the focus of a normal earth- 
quake is at a depth much less than 100 km., so that a height of 100 km. 
above the normal is not to be taken literally. The difficulty in interpreting 
the observations is that if the earthquake is treated as normal, the interval 
between P and S phases is at most stations about 10 seconds greater than that 
appropriate for the distance from the epicentre. The earthquake in 
question is to be studied by Mr. E. Tillotson, who is collecting original 
records, and it may be hoped that he will succeed in solving the mystery 
of the ' High Focus.' 

The Surface Layers. 

It is by the study of near earthquakes that information must be sought as 
to the usual depth of focus and as to the thickness of the layers of the earth's 
crust. There is at present a remarkable difference in practice between 
English investigators, who follow the method of Harold Jeffreys, and 
most seismologists abroad, who keep to the procedure developed by 
S. Mohorovi^id. Calculations by the Jeffreys method lead to estimates of 
10 km. for the thickness of the granite (which is generally overlaid by a 
kilometre or two of sedimentary rock) and 25 km. for the thickness of the 
intermediate rock between the granite and the ultrabasic rock which trans- 
mits the P and S waves. The alternative method has led to estimates of 
about 60 km. for the thickness of the two upper layers. The nature of the 
controversy as viewed by Jeffreys in 1928 is explained in the second edition 
of his book The Earth. Following papers by Tillotson and Mourant, in 
which the method of Jeffreys was used, there have been published in the 
year under review two papers by A. W. Lee, which consolidate the evidence. 
The success of the method depends on the detection of waves reflected at 
the ground or at the upper surface of the granite layer. The method has 
only been applied hitherto to small European earthquakes. It is to be 
hoped that reflected waves will be investigated in other regions, so that 
general agreement as to the merits of the alternative methods of inter- 
pretation of the seismological evidence may be reached. 


In continuation of the work summarised in the last report, Mr. Lee has 
investigated the theory of the propagation of surface waves over an area 
where there is a known thickness of sedimentary rock over granite. It 
appears that the larger microseisms are to be expected where the sedi- 
mentary rocks are of greater thickness. As far as Great Britain is concerned 
this conclusion is consistent with the geological evidence. Information is 
now being collected at Kew as to the microseismic disturbance in all parts 
of the world, so that the theory may be put to a thorough test. 




The Committee asks for reappointment.with the addition of Prof. P. G. H. 
Boswell, F.R.S., Mr. A. W. Lee and Mr. E. Tillotson. The confirmation 
of the election of Prof. H. H. Plaskett is desired. Sir Napier Shaw has 
notified his wish to retire from membership of the Committee. 

Accounts, July 1931-JuNE 1932. 
General Account. 







Brought forward 




I.S.S. — Printing 



B.A. Caird Fund £100 

Printing and Stationery 




B .A . General Fund 150 










U.G.G.I.,forI.S.A. . 
Saleofl.S.S. . 









Bank Interest 



Operation of Seismo- 

graphs . 




Cheque stamps . 


Balance carried forward 


£689 II 9 

£689 II 9 

Liabilities — One quarter of I.S.S. passed for press] ^ 
One quarter in proof [ ^ 

Brought forward 
Trust Income 
Bank Interest 

Gray-Milne Trust Account. 
£ s. d. 

311 4 6 

86 14 ID 

7 9 5 

Miss Bellamy (Honora 

Reprints . 

Milne Library 
Insurance . 

£ s. d. 

30 o o 

14 10 o 

10 15 3 

o 15 o 

62 9 6 
Balance carried forward 342 19 3 

£405 8 9 

£405 8 9 



Report of Committee on Calculation of Mathematical Tables (Prof. E. H. 
Neville, Chairman ; Prof. A. Lodge, Vice-Chairman ; Dr. L. J. 
CoMRiE, Secretary ; Dr. J. R. AiREY, Dr. R. A. Fisher, Dr. J. 
Henderson, Dr. J. O. Irwin, Dr. E. S. Pearson, Mr. F. Robbins, 
Dr. A. J. Thompson, Dr. J. F. Tocher, and Dr. J. Wishart). 

General activity. — Eight meetings of the Committee have been held, in 
London. Professors Love and Nicholson, Dr. Doodson and Mr. Whitwell, 
finding themselves unable to take an active part in the work of the 
Committee, did not accept reappointment. 

The grant of £93 has been expended as follows : 

£ 5. d. 

Calculations connected with Emden's equation 

,, „ ,, Legendre functions 

Preparation of copy of tables of Bessel functions 
Editorial and secretarial expenses 

Unexpended balance .... 

12 o o 

38 15 o 

21 10 o 

18 8 2 


Volwne I. — This volume of Mathematical Tables, which was in the 
press at the date of the last meeting of the Association, was published in 
November 1931, and is now on sale by the Association for 10s. a copy. One 
hundred copies were bound, and the demand for the volume has been 
steady. It was necessary to have a second hundred bound in March of 
this year. 

Volume II. — This volume contains solutions of Emden's equation. The 
supervision of the calculations, the preparation of printer's copy and the 
work of seeing the volume through the press have been done by Mr. D. H. 
Sadler, to whom the Committee expresses its gratitude. The cost of 
printing this volume has been borne by the International Astronomical 
Union. The price is 7s. 6d. 

Cunninsham Bequest. — {a) The preparation of a table of reduced ideals 
and primitive units in real quadratic fields has been put in hand. Dr. E. L. 
Ince has undertaken the calculations. 

(6) The Council has undertaken for Prof. L. E. Dickson, of Chicago, 
the publication and printing in England of his tables of the minimum 
decompositions of the numbers 1-300,000 into fifth powers. 

Bessel functions . — A sub-committee (Drs. J. Henderson and J. O. Irwin) 
was formed to draw up a report on the tables of Bessel functions which have 
appeared in the reports, with a view to the possibility of their publication in 
one volume. Interim reports dealing with the more important of these 
tables have been drafted for consideration by the Committee. In many 
cases the tables will require to be extended and prepared for interpolation. 
Work on the preparation of a few of these tables has been carried out. 

Legendre functions. — At the request of Prof. H. R. Hasse, the Com- 
mittee has prepared 7-figure tables of the Legendre functions P,, {x) up to 
n = 12 for a; = i •00(001)600 and up to m = 6 for x = 6-o(o- i)ii o. 
These tables are required in problems in quantum mechanics. They have 
been supplemented by values up to « = 9 for .v = o 00(0- 01)1 • 00, the 
values up to « = 7 being taken from the Committee's report for 1879. It 


has not been possible to publish the tables with this report, but they are 
available in manuscript. 

Associated Legendre or Toroidal functions. — Preliminary theoretical work 
on these functions is being done by Dr. J. R. Airey. It is hoped that the 
calculations will be done next year. 

Reappointment. — The Committee desires to be reappointed, with the 
addition of Mr. D. H. Sadler, and with a grant for general purposes of £50, 
which it is expected will be expended on the tables of associated Legendre 
functions and on work for the volume of Bessel functions. 


Report of Committee appointed to collect and tabulate all available data on 
the Parachors of Chemical Compounds with a view to their subsequent 
publication (Dr. N. V. Sidgwick, Chairman ; Dr. S. Sugden, 
Secretary ; Dr. N. K. Adam). 

Introductory Note. 

This list has been prepared by a sub-committee of Section B of the British 
Association and gives data for 638 substances. It attempts to tabulate all 
the parachors which have been calculated arid discussed down to June 

The list is divided into t%vo parts, dealing with inorganic and organic 
compounds respectively. The latter group includes all compounds which 
contain carbon. The inorganic list is arranged in alphabetical order of 
symbols, so that any compound can be found by rewriting its usual 
formula in alphabetical order. Thus sulphuryl chloride is written ClaOjjS 
and its parachor will be found in the part of the list beginning with C. 
The organic substances are arranged in the order used in Richter's well- 
known ' Lexicon.' 

The references are grouped by years at the end of the list and the ab- 
breviations are, in the main, those used in the Journal of the Chemical 
Society. Where two references follow a value of a parachor the first 
gives the paper in which the parachor is calculated and discussed, the 
second the paper in which the experimental values of the surface tension 
and density are recorded. 

Inorganic Compounds in Alphabetical Order of Symbols. 

A Argon 54-0 1929, 7, p. 186 ; 1902, i ; I.C.T. 

Ag Silver 61 -8 1929, y,p. 186 ; 1914, 4. 

AgCl Silver chloride 98-8 1929, y, p. 186 ; 1916,1. 

AgNOa Silver nitrate 157-2 1929, 7, p. 186 ; 1917,1. 

Al Aluminium 55-0 1929, 7, p. 174 ; 1916, i. 

Al2Br6 Aluminium bromide 457*6 1929,8. 

AsBts Arsenic tribromide 253-5 ^9^9, 2 ; 1917,1. 

AsCls Arsenic trichloride 212-0 1929,2 ; 1917,1. 




















































Calcium chloride 
Cadmium 70-0 
Chlorine 11 1 -5 
Chromyl chloride 
Caesium chloride 

1930, 5 

218-9 193^, 

Gold 6o-6 ig2g,y,p. 186 ; igi6,{i). 
Boron trichloride 178-8 ig28,7: ig2y,5. 
Barium chloride 215 ig2g, 7, p. 187 ; 1904, 3. 
Bismuth 93-2 1929, 7, p. 174 ; 1921, 4 ; 1928, 12. 
Bismuth tribromide 283-9 I92g, 7, p. 188 ; igi7, i. 
Bismuth trichloride 236-9 ig2g,7 ,p. 188 ; igi7, i . 
Bromine 132-1 ig24, i ; igii,i. 
Caesium bromide 207-5 ig2g, 3 ; igi7,i. 
Hydrobromic acid 85 -4 1927, 2 ; 1906, i. 
Selenium dihydroxy dibromide 248-5 ig3i,8. 
Potassium bromide 174-3 1929,3; 1917 , t ■ 
Sodium bromide 143 -8 1929, 3 ; 1917 , i. 
Phosphorus tribromide 242-9 ig25,i. 
Rubidium bromide 192-7 ig2g, 3 ; igiy,!. 
Stannic bromide 325-8 ig2g,i. 

177 ig2g, 7,P-i87 ; 1904,3. 
1929, 7,P-i87 ; ig27, 6. 
1924, I ; 1913,4- 104-6 
199 -I ig28,i. 
188 -7 ig2g,3; igi7,i. 
Hydrochloric acid 67 3 ig27 , 2 ; igo6,i. 
Selenium dihydroxy dichloride 222 -8 ig2g,2. 

Potassium chloride 156-6 ig2g, 3 ; igi7,i. 
Lithium chloride 984 ig2g, 3 ; igi7,i. 
Sodium chloride 124-8 ig2g, 3 ; igi7,i. 
Nitrosyl chloride 108 -i ig24, i ; igi2,2. 
Chlorine peroxide 98-7 ig30, 3. 

Phosphorus oxychloride 217-6 ig25,i. 217-6 i8g3,2. 
Additive compound SnCl 4. 2POCI 3 689 7 ig2g,i. 
Thionyl chloride 172-5 i8g3, 2. 174-5 -^925.-^. 
Sulphuryl chloride 1870 i8g3,2. 193-3 ^925,^- 
Selenium oxychloride 181 -i ig2g,2. 
Phosphorus trichloride 199-0 igii,i. 201 -i i8g3, 2. 
Phosphorus pentachloride 282-5 ig27,2. 
Lead chloride 194-5 ^92g, 3 ; igo8,2. 
Rubidium chloride 182-8 ig2g, 3 ; igi7, i. 
Sulphur monochloride 205-1 ig25, i ; i8g3, 2. 204-3 

ig2g,4 ; ig25, I ; iSg3, 2. 205-5 ig30, 5- 
Antimony trichloride 227-4 1927,2. 
Antimony pentachloride 311 -8 ig27,2. 

Stannic chloride 272-8 ig2g,i. 
Titanium tetrachloride 262-5 ig2g, i. 

Potassium dichromate 450-8 ig28,i; igi7,i. 

Caesium fluoride 136-9 ig2g, 3 ; igi7,i. 

Caesium iodide 242-4 ig2g, 3 ; igi7,i. 

Caesium nitrate 218-0 ig2g,3; igi7,i. 

Caesium sulphate 388-8 ig2g, 3 ; igi7,i. 

Copper 46 I92g, 7, p. 186 ; igi4, 4 ; ig27 ,7 . 

Lithium fluoride 58-5 J929, j ; igi7,i. 

Potassium fluoride 109-0 ig2g, 3 ; igiy,!. 

Sodium fluoride 82-7 Jrpap, 3 ; 1917, i. 

Rubidium fluoride 123-1 I92g, 3 ; 19^7, i- 

Gallium 50-0 ig2g, 7, p. 187 ; ig2i, 3. 

Hydrogen 35-2 ig24, i ; igi4, i. 

K 2 


































Helium 20-5 1929, 7, p. 186 ; 1925, 5. 

Mercury 68-o 1929,3 ; 1914,4. 69-0 1929,3 ; 1929,5. 

69-4 1929,3 ; 1921,4. 69-4 1929,3 ; 1928,12 &• 13. 
Hydriodic acid 105-3 ^9^7,^ i 1906,1. 
Ammonia 60-7 1929, y,p. lyo. 
Nitric acid 105-0 1929, 7, p. 169 ; 1908,1. 
Water 52-3 1929, 7, p. 169 ; I.C.T. 
Hydrogen peroxide 69-6 1924,1 ; 1920,3. 
Sulphuric acid 144-8 (io°), 152-3 (132-5°) 1929, 7, p. 169 ; 

1908,1. 143-7 1929,4: 1911,5- 
Hydrogen sulphide 82-9 1930,9. 
Hydrogen disulphide 130-0 1930,9. 
Potassium iodide 205-2 1929,3 ; 1917,1. 
Sodium iodide 170-8 1929,3 ; 1917,1. 
Rubidium iodide 226-8 1929,3; 1917,1. 
Potassium molybdate 367 1929,7, p. 189 ; 1917,1. 
Potassium nitrate 189-0 1929,3; 1917,1. 
Potassium metaphosphate 204-4 ^929, 3 ; 1917, i. 
Potassium tungstate 373 1929, 7, p. 189 ; 1917, i. 
Lithium nitrate 131-5 1929,3 ; 1917,1. 
Lithium sulphate 216-0 1929,3; 1917,1. 
Sodium molybdate 288 1929,7 , p. 189 ; 1917,1. 
Nitrogen 60-4 1924,1 ; 1902,1. 
Sodium 97-4 1929,3 ; 1926,3. 
Sodium metaphosphate 178-1 1929,3; 1917,1. 
Sodium sulphate 261 -i 1929,3; 1917,1. 
Sodium tungstate 300 1929,7 -p. 189 ; 1917,1. 
Neon 25-0 1929,7 , p. 186 ; 1925,6. 
Sodium nitrate 152-9 1929,3; 1917,1. 
Nitrous oxide 81 -i 1929, 7, p. 170; 1904. 2. 80-0 

1930, 10. 
Nitrogen peroxide 144-4 ^925,1 ; 1893,2. 
Rubidium nitrate 197-9 ^929,3; 1917,1. 
Thallous nitrate 177-3 1929,8. 180-7 1929,8 ; 1917,1. 
Oxygen 54-0 1924, i ; 1902, i . 
Osmium tetroxide 154-0 1925,1 ; 
Rubidium sulphate 361-8 1929,3 
Sulphur dioxide loi - 5 
Sulphur trioxide 103-6 


; 1917,1- 
1929, 7, P- 170 ; 1904,2. 
i929,7,P-i70 ; 1901,1 

89-3 1929,3; 

1922, I. 
1921, 4- 

Lead 114-2 1929,3; 1914,4. 

91-5 1929,3 ; 1927,6. 93-5 1929,3 ; 1927,7. 
Sulphur 49-4 1929, 7, p. 166 ; 1918,1. 
Antimony 76-8 1929, 3 ; 1914,4. 82-0 1929,3; 1927, 

6. 83-9 1929,3 ; 1927,7- 

Tin 83-4 1929, 3 ; 1914, 4. 83-8 1929, 3 ; 1927, 6. 

86-8 1929, 3 ; 1926, 2. 
Zinc 50-7 1929, 7, p. 187 ; 1928,12. 58-0 (?) 1929,7, 

p. 187 ; 1914, 4. 



Organic Compounds. 














1 91 1, 3. 

1893, 2. 
; 1920, 2. 




Carbon monoxide 61 -6 I929,y,p. 170 ; 1902, i. 

Carbon dioxide 77-5 I929,7,P- IJO ; 1927 , 4- 

Carbon tetrachloride 219-9 ^924, ^ ! 1893, i. 220-0 

1924, i; 1884, I. 218-S 1924, I ; 1911, 3. 219-8 

1924,1 ; 1920,2. 219-8 1931,6. 

Carbon disulphide 144-7 ^925, ^ / 

1925, I ; 1911, I, 3. 142-9 1925, I 
1931, 6. 

Phosgene 151-6 1929, 4 ; 1920, 4. 

Thiocarbonyl tetrachloride 266-1 1929,14. 

Thiocarbonyl tetrabromide 316-4 1929, ^4- 

Carbon selenosulphide 156-4 1929,10. 

Chloroform 183-4 1924,1; 1921,2. 183-4 1924,1; 

1884, I. 182-4 1924, I ; 1911, 3. 183-S 1924, i; 

1920,2. 183-4 1931,6. 
Bromoform 221-9 1929,4; I.C.T. 
Hydrocyanic acid 81-5 1929, 7,P- ^70. 
Formic acid 93-3 1929,6. 93-2 1931,6. 
Methylene dichloride 143-0 1924, I ; 1920, 2. 147-6 

1931, 6. 
Methyl iodide 146-2 1931,6. 
Methyl alcohol 88-8 1928, 4. 88-7 1929, 7, p. 167. 

88-0 1931,6. 
Methylamine 95-9 1929,7 ,P- ^7^ I ^9^7 ,^- 
Chloropicrin 236-8 1929, 4 ; 1884, i. 
Thallous formate 150-3 1929,8. 
Dichlorobromomethane 196-8 1924,1; 1912,1. 
Nitromethane 132-1 1924, i ; 1920, 2. 132-0 1924,1; 

1913,2. 132-2 1931,6. 










Acetylene 88-6 1924, i ; 1921 , i. 
Ethylene 99-5 1924, i ; 1921 , i. 
Ethane 110-5 1924,1; 1921,1. 
Pentachloroethane 292-3 1931,6. 
Acetylene tetrachloride 259-0 1924, 1 

1931, 6. 
Acetylene tetrabromide 311 -o 1924, i ; 1912, i 

1924,1 ; 1920,2. 310-4 1929,2 ; I.C.T. 
Acetonitrile 122-2 1924, i ; 1913, L 121 -6 1931,6 
Methyl isocyanide 122- 1 1930,6. 
Ethylene oxide 112-5 1927, ^ ! ^922, i. 
Aceticacid 133-5 ^9^9,7 ,P-^69. 130-8 1929,6. 

1929,4; I.C.T. 131-0 1931,6. 
Methyl formate 138-6 1924,1; 1893,1. 12T1 

I ; 1911, 4. 
Ethylene dichloride 189-3 ^924, i; ^884, i. 

1924,1 ; 1911,1. 188-3 1931,6. 

1912, I, 261 -o 


1 89-1 


C2H4CI2 Ethylidene dichloride 188-5 1924, i; 1884, i. i88-6 

1924, I ; 1911, I. iQi -9 1931, 6. 
C2H4Br2 Ethylene dibromide 215-7 ^9^4, i ! 1911, 3- 215 -i 

1924, i; 1920, 2. 215-5 1929, 4; I.C.T. 213-0 

1 9 31, 6. 
C2H5CI Ethyl chloride 151-6 1931,6. 

C2H5Br Ethylbromide 167-6 (?) 1924,1 ; 1920,2. 165-7 ^93^,6- 

C2H5I Ethyl iodide 187-0 1931,6. 

C2H6O Ethyl alcohol 127-5 ^9^9, 7, p. 167. 127-3 ^9^8, 4. 

126-8 1929,4; I.C.T. 126-6 1931,6. 
C2H6S Ethyl mercaptan 162-9 19^5, i ; 1913,1. 

C2H7N Dimethylamine 136-6 1929,4; 191^,1. 

Ethylamine 137-4 ^9^9,4; 1917,1. 
C2H3O2TI Thallous acetate 183-5 ^9^9,8. 
C2H3NS Methyl thiocyanate 168-6 1925, i; 1884, i. 170-2 

1929, 9- 
C2H5ON Acetamide 148-0 1924,1; 1910,1. 

Acetaldoxime 145-4 ^9^9,4; I.C.T. 
C2H5OTI Thallous ethylate 177-3 1929,8. 
C2H5O2N Nitroethane 171 -2 1929,4. 
C3H5O3N Ethyl nitrate 189-6 1924,1; 1913,2. 
C2H6ON2 Dimethylnitrosoamine 183-8 1924, i ; 1913, 2. 184-8 

1924, 1 ; 1910, 1. 

C2H6O4S Dimethyl sulphate 238-9 1925,1. 

C2H6CI2TI Dimethyltelluridichloride 282-5 1929,11. 

C2H8O3N2 Dimethylammonium nitrate 249-7 1929,3; 1914,3. 

Ethylammonium nitrate 239-2 1929,3. 234-9 ^9^4,3- 

C3H4 Allylene 122-9 ^924,1; 1921,1. 

C3H6 Propylene 139-9 1924,1 ; 1921,1. 

CsHg Propane 150-8 1924,1 ; 1921,1. 

C3H5N Propionitrile 160-5 193^,6. 

Ethylisocyanide 164 1930, 7 . 
CsHsO Allyl alcohol 152-7 1928,4. 153-8 1931,6. 

Acetone 161 -7 1924, i ; 1915, i. 162-0 1924, i; 

18S4, I. 160-9 1924, I ; 1911, 2. 161-5 1929, 4; 
I.C.T. 161 -5 1931,6. 
C3H6O2 Propionic acid 168-7 1929, 6. 169-0 1929, 4; I.C.T. 

169-0 1931, 6. 
Ethyl formate 178-4 1924,1; 1884,1. 177-0 1924,1; 

1911, 4- 
Methyl acetate i^j-z 1924,1 ; 1884,1. 176-7 1924,1 ; 
C3H7CI n-Propyl chloride 190-2 1924, i ; 1884, i. 187-0 1931, 

CsHjBr w-Propyl bromide 205-3 1931,6. 

z'-Propyl bromide 205-1 1931,6. 
C3H7I n-Propyl iodide 226-0 1931,6. 

CaHgO 72-Propyl alcohol 165-4 ^929,4; I.C.T. 165-8 1928,4. 

164-7 1931, 6. 
/-Propyl alcohol 164-3 1931,6. 
CaHgOg Methylal 189-8 1931,6. 


C3H9N M-Propylamine 178-5 ig24, i ; igio,i. 

Trimethylamine 177-6 ig2g, 4 ; igiy^i. 
C.^HjONa Diazoacetone 191-9 ig3o,i. 
C3H1O2N2 Methyl diazo-acetate 207-2 ig30,i. 
C3H4OCI2 a-a-Dichloroacetone 244-1 ig24,i ; ig2o,2. 
C3H5ON3 Triazoacetone 220-9 ig28, 10. 
C3H5OCI Epichlorohydrin 193-7 ^927,1. 

a-Chloracetone 192-7 ig24, i ; ig20,2. 
C3HSO2CI Ethyl chlorocarbonate 216-9 ig2g,4; i8g3,2. 
C3H5NS Ethyl thiocyanate 210-7 ig23, i ; i8g3, 2. 209-1 ig25, 

I ; igi3, I. 

Ethyl isothiocyanate 211-7 ^9-5, ^ ,' ^9^3, i- 211-5 
C3H7ON Propionamide 181 -2 ig24, i ; igio,z. 

C3H7O2N Ethyl carbamate 202-2 ig24, i ; igio,i. 
CsHgOsB Methyl borate 243-7 1928,7. 

C4H10 M-Butane 190-3 ig2g,4; ig28, 3. 

C4O4NI Nickel carbonyl 250-8 1929,7 , p. i8g ; i8g3,2. 

C4H4S Thiopene 189-3 I92g, 4; I.C.T. ; 1928, 11. 189-3 

1931, I. 
C4H4Se Selenophene 210-6 1928, g. 

C4H5N Pyrrol 164-7 ig3i,T. 

C4H6O3 Acetic anhydride 225-6 igji, 6. 

C4H7N w-Butyronitrile 201-2 ig24,i ; ig20,2. 198-9 ig34,i ; 

igio,i. 199-7 ig24,i ; igi3,i. 199-3 I93i,6. 
C4H8O Methyl ethyl ketone 198-2 1924, i ; igii, 2. 198-8 

ig2g, 4 ; I.C.T. 
C4H8O2 n-Butyric acid 209-1 ig2g,6. 

/-Butyric acid 207-8 ig2g,6. 
//-Propyl formate 224*4(?) ig24,i ; 1884,1. 216-1 ig24, 

I ; 1 91 1, 4. 

Ethyl acetate 217-1 ig24, i ; iSgj, i. 217-8 ig24, i ; 
1884, I. 215-6 ig24, I ; igii, 4. 216-9 ig2g, 4; 
I.C.T. zis-l 1931,6. 
C4H8O2 Methyl propionate 215-1 ig24,i ; 18S4.1. 214-9 ig24, 

I ; 1911,4. 

C4H8Se cyclo Selenobutane 229-5 ''^929, 12. 

C4H9CI «-Butyl chloride 230-5 ig3i,6. 

/■-Butyl chloride 228-4 ig3T.,6. 
C4H9Br 72-Butyl bromide 243-5 ig3i,6. 

/-Butyl bromide 243-8 ig3i,6. 
C4H9I //-Butyl iodide 264-7 ig3i,6. 

/-Butyl iodide 265-0 ig3i,6. 
C4H10O //-Butyl alcohol 202-9 ig28,4. 203-4 ^93^, 6- 

z-Butyl alcohol 202-1 ig2g, 4 ; I.C.T. 200-6 ig3i,6. 

^ec-Butyl alcohol (methyl ethyl carbinol) 201-9 ig3i , 6. 

Zez-i-Butyl alcohol (trimethylcarbinol) 201-0 ig3i,6. 

Di-ethyl ether 211-7 ig24, i ; i8g3,i. 211-9 ig24, i ; 
1884,1. 209-5 ig24,i; igii,3. zii-z ig3i,6. 
C4H10O2 Dimethyl acetal 226-0 ig24,j ; 1884,1. 

C4H11N /-Butylamine 216- 1 ig2g,4; 1884,1. 


CiHiOaCla Succinyl chloride 282-6 1927,3. 

CiHiCliS Tetrachlorovinylethylsulphide 374" i 1928,8. 

C4H,02Cl3 Ethyl trichloroacetate 327-6 1929, 4 ; I.C.T. 

C4H5NS AUyl isothiocyanate 232-4 1925, i; ^9^3, i. 230-5 

1929, 9. 

C,H5Cl3S Trichlorovinylethylsulphide 338-4 1928,8. 

C4H6O2N2 Ethyl diazo-acetate 248-3 1930,1. 

C4HG02Cla Ethyl dichloroacetate 291-7 1929, 4 ; 1884, i. 

C4H,02N3 Triazo-acetic ester 277-0 1928,10. 

C4H;02C1 Ethyl chloroacetate 252-1 1929, 4 ; 1884, i. 

CiHsOSe I : 4 Selenoxan 245-2 1930, 4- 

C4H9O2N «-Butylnitrite 251-8 1925,1- 

C4H10ON2 Diethylnitrosoamine 260-3 1924, i ; igio, i. 

C4H10O3S Diethyl sulphite 299-7 1912,1. 

Ethyl ethanesulphonate 295-8 1912,1. 

C4H10O4S Diethyl sulphate 313-8 1925,1- 

CiHioBraTe (B-Diethyl telluridibromide 377-3 1929, i^- 

C4Hiol2Te a-Diethyl telluridi-iodide 425-0 1929,11. 

CiHigOsNg Di-ethyl ammonium nitrate 324-8 192^, 3 ; 1914, 3. 

CiHiaOiSi Methyl orthosilicate 330-9 xpjj, 2. 

C5H10 Amylene 218-2 1924, i ; 1884, i. 

P-wo-Amylene 216-9 1929,4. 

t-Pentane 230-0 Jpj-r, 6. 

Furfural 212-9 1924,1 ; 1913,2. 

Pyridine 199-8 1924, i ; 1911, J. 199-7 ^929, 4; 

C3'c/oPentanone 214-2 1928,6. 

Acetylacetone 240-7 1924, i ; 1913, i. 245-4 ^929,^- 

Laevulinic acid 258-6 1929,4; 1917,1. 

Dimethyl malonate 283-1 1931,1. 

M-Valeronitrile 236-6 1924, i ; 1913, i. 237-4 ^931, 6. 

z-Valeronitrile 237-3 1924, i ; 1920, 2. 237-4 ^931, 6. 
C5H10O f-Valeraldehyde 237-5 1929, 4: 1884,1. 

Diethyl ketone 236 - 2 1924, i / ^91^, 2. 

Methyl-M-propylketone 233 -o(?) 1924,1 ; 1915,1. 238-0 
1913, 2. 
CsHioOa n-Valeric acid 247-0 1931,6. 

z-Butyl formate 262-4 1924,1 ; 1884,1. 

w-Propyl acetate 257-1 1924,1; 1884,1. 255-0 1924, 
I ; 1911, 4. 

Ethyl propionate 255-2 1924,1; 1884,1. 254-4 ^924, 
J ; 1911, 4. 254-0 1931, 6. 

Methyl butyrate 254-1 1924,1; 1884,1. 254-3 ^924, 

I ; 1911, 4- 

Methyl wo-butyrate 253-1 1924, ^ I 1884, i. 253-5 
1924,1 ; 1911,4- 
C5H10O3 Ethyl lactate 268-5 1929, 4 ; I.C.T. 

Diethyl carbonate 277-4 ^925, i- 274-9 ^931, 6. 
CsHioSe cjc/o Selenopentane 264-2 1929,13. 

CsHuN Piperidine 231-5 1924, i ; 1911, 2. 






CgHuC M-Amyl chloride 270-4 193^,6. 

i-Amyl chloride 269-8 1924, i ; 1920, 2. 
CjHiiBr «-Amyl bromide 283-6 1931,6. 

i-Amyl bromide 282-9 ^93i, <5. 
C5H12O «-Amyl alcohol 243-3 I93i,6. 

z-Amyl alcohol 241-4 1931,6. 

«crf-Amyl alcohol 241 - 1 1929,4 ; I.C.T. 238-0 1931,6. 

Ethyl- w-propylether 252-0 1924,1 ; 1913,2. 
CsHiaN /erf-Amylamine 252-3 1929, 4 ; 1917, i. 

CjHsOaNa Diazo-acetylacetone 274-9 1930,1. 
C5H6O3N2 Methyl diazo-acetoacetate 295-0 1930,1. 
C5H6O4N3 Methyl diazomalonate 305 "4 ^930,1. 
C5H7O2N Ethyl cyano-acetate 262-1 1929, 4 ; 1912,1. 
C5H9NS Butyl-wothiocyanate 281-6 1929,9. 

CsHuOaN f-Amyl nitrite 287-4 1925,1- 
C5H7O2BF2 Acetylacetoneborondifluoride 300-6 1929,8. 


CfiHs Benzene 206-3 1924,1 ; 1893,1. 206-1 1924,1 ; 1884, 

I. 206-0 1929,4. 205-7 1931,6. 
CgHio Di-allyl 248-2 1924, i ; 1884, i. 

C6H12 Methyl-c^'c/o-pentane 242-8 1924, i ; 1904, i. 

cyclo-Hexane 239-3 ^9^9)4' 241-8 1931,6. 
CeHu M-Hexane 270-1 J924, i; ^^84, i. 273-3 1924, i; 

1913,1. 270-4 1929,4- 270-4 1931,6. 
C6H40a p-Benzoquinone 236-8 1927,3. 

C6H4CI2 ^-Dichlorobenzene 279-5 1924, 2 ; 1924, i. 

CsHsNs Phenyl azoimide 267-3 1928,10. 

CeHjF Fluorobenzene 214-3 1924, i ; 1911,1. 

CsHsCl Chlorobenzene 244-5 1924,1 ; 1893,1. 244-9 1924,1; 

1911,3- 243-9 1924, 1 ; 1920,2. 244-1 1931,6. 

CeHsBr Bromobenzene 260-6 1924,2 ; 1924,1 . 258-0 1924,1; 

1911,1. 257-8 1931,6. 
CsHfil lodobenzene 282-3 1924,2; 1924,1. 280-7 1924,1; 

■ 1911, I- 
CgHeO Phenol 220-2 1928,4. 221-3 1929,4; I.C.T. 222-3 

(49-6°), 224-8 (147-5°) 1930,8. 
CgHeS Phenyl mercaptan 257-5 1925,1 ; 1912,1. 256-4 1925, 

I ; 1913, I. 
CsH^N Aniline 235-7 1924,2. 234-4 1929,4; I.C.T. 232-7 

1931, 6. 
CeHgOi Dimethyl fumar ate 308-5 1925,2. 

Dimethyl maleate 309 -6 1923,2. 
CsHsNa Phenyl hydrazine 255-7 1924, i : 1910,1. 255-9 X924, 

I ; 1913,1. zsTi 1931,1. 
CeHioO cycZo-Hexanone 251-4 1928,6. 

CsHioOg Propionylacetone 279-7 1929, 8. 

CeHioOa Ethyl aceto-acetate 302-0 1931,1. 

CgHioO* Diethyloxalate 323-4 1924,1; 1913,1. 322-2 1931,6. 

CgHiiN «-Capronitrile 276-6 1931,6. 

/-Butylacetonitrile 275 o 1924,1 ; 1910,1. 
CeHiaO Pinacoline 273-4 1929, 4 ; I-CT. 

cj^c/o-Hexanol 254-9 1929, 4 / -^9-^3, 5 ; 1924, 5. 


CeHiaOa w-Hexoic acid 287-2 ig2g,6. 

2-Amyl formate 303 • 8 (?) 1924, i ; 1884, i. 293 • 7 1924, 

I ; igii,4. 293-6 1924,1 ; 1913,3. 
2-Butyl acetate 300-0 (?) 1924, i ; 1884,1. 295-1 1924, 

I ; 1911, 1. 
«-Propyl propionate 295 -3 1924, i ; 1884, i. 
Ethyl butyrate 293-9 1924, i ; 1884, i. 293-0 1924,1; 

1911,3. 294-2 1924, I ; 1915,2. 
Ethyl z50-butyrate 292-9 1924, i ; 1884,1. 
Methyl valerate 292-5 1924,1; 1884,1. 
CgHigOs Paracetaldehyde 299-0 1924, i ; 1884, i. 298-5 1924, 

I ; 191 3, 2. 
CeHiaSe c>'c/o Selenohexane 302-1 1931,3. 

2-Methyl cyclo selenopentane 304 ■ 2 1931, 3. 
CeHiaBr w-Hexyl bromide 322-8 1931,6. 

CeHisI M-Hexyl iodide 344-1 1931,6. 

CeHijO w-Hexyl alcohol 276-2 1931,6. 

Di-«-propylether 290-9 1931, 6. 
C6H14O2 Diethyl acetal (Ethylal) 306-9 1924,1; 1884,1. 305-7 

1931, 6. 
CsHigN Dipropylamine 297-3 ^9^4, ^ ! 1910,1. 297-2 1929,1; 

C6H4ClBr /)-Chlorobromobenzene 292-5 1924,2; 1924,1. 
C6H4CII ^-Chloro-iodobenzene 316-4 1924,2 ; 1924,1. 

CeHjOgN Nitrobenzene 264-5 1924,2; 1924,1. 264-1 1924,1; 

1911,2. 262-5 1924,1 ; 1920,2. 262-1 1931,6. 
CsHsOgN o-Nitrophenol 273-2 1928,4.' 274-7 i930,8. 
w-Nitrophenol 283-3 1930,8. 
p-Nitrophenol 280-8 1928,4. 283-2 1930,8. 
C6H5CI2AS Phenyl dichloroarsine 348-3 1929,2. 
CeHgBrSe Phenyl selenobromide 321-5 1929,2. 
C6H8O3N2 Ethyl diazo-aceto-acetate 330-3 1930, i. 
CeHgOaTl Thallous aceto-acetic ester 332-2 1929,8. 
C6H10O2N2 M-Butyl diazo-acetate 326-0 1930,1. 
C6H10O4N2 Diethyl azoformate 377-1 1930,13. 
CsHisOgB Triethyl borate 363-1 1928, y. 
CeHigOjP Triethyl phosphate 399-1 1925,1. 
C6H3O2NCI2 2 : 5 Dichloronitrobenzene 335-4 1929,4; igiy,i. 
C6H3O4N2CI i-Chloro 2:4 dinitrobenzene 
348-2 1930,11. 
i-Chloro 3 : 4 dinitrobenzene 
347-4 1930,11. 
C6H4O2NCI o-Chloronitrobenzene 299-9 
»2-Chloronitrobenzene 298 - 9 
^-Chloronitrobenzene 300-0 
C6H402NBr o-Bromonitrobenzene 312-9 
wz-Bromonitrobenzene 313-5 
^-Bromonitrobenzene 313-5 

C7H8 Toluene 246-9 1924,1 ; 1912,1 . 245-5 1924,1 ; 1884, 

I. 246-5 1924,1; igii,i. 246-0 ig24, I ; 1921,2. 
245-0 1931,6. 

351-6 I92g, 4; 

1917, I. 

258-7 (?) 1930,11 

; 1914, 5. 

1925, 3. 

1925, 3. 

1924, 2 ; ig24, I. 


1925, 3. 

1925, 3. 


C7H14 Methyl cyc/ohexane 278-5 1924, i; 1904, i- 282-0 

1 931, 6. 
QH16 «-Heptane 309-3 1924, i ; 1920, i. 310-8 1929, 4; 


Y-Methylhexane 306-6 1929,4; 1929,5. 

PP-Dimethylpentane 305-3 1929,4; 1929,5. 

138-Dimethylpentane 305-5 1929,4; ig2g, 5. 

3Py-Trimethyl-butane 301-4 1929, 4 / 1929, 5- 
C7H5N Benzonitrile 259-3 1924,1; 1911,3. 258-0 1924,1; 

1910,1. 255-5 1924,1 ; 1913,1. 

Phenyl isocyanide 255-2 1930,6. 
CvHgO Benzaldehyde 256-2 1924,1; 1911,2. 254-0 1924,1; 

1920, 2. 255 • I 1929, 4 ; I.C.T. 
CjHeOa o-Hydroxybenzaldehyde 268-0 1930,8. 

7w-Hydroxybenzaldehyde 274-5 I930,8. 

p-Hydroxybenzaldehyde 278-2 1930,8. 

2-Methyl- I : 4-benzoquinone 272-0 192^,3. 
C7H7N8 o-Toluylazoimide 303-8 1928,10. 

/)-Toluylazoimide 307-0 1928,10. 
C7H7CI o-Chlorotoluene 280-8. 1931,6. 

/)-Chlorotoluene 283-6 1924,1; 1924,2. 
C7H7Br ;)-Bromotoluene 296-8 1924,1; 1924,2. 

C7H7I /)-Iodotoluene 318-6 1924, i ; 1924, 2. 

C7H8O o-Cresol 257-5 ^928,4. 

wz-Cresol 257-1 1928,4. 

Benzyl alcohol 259-6 1929,4; I.C.T. 

Anisole 265-6 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 265-7 1924,1; 1915, 
I. 265-6 1924,1 ; 1911,3. 265-2 1924,1; 1920,2. 
C7H9N o-Toluidine 269-3 ^931, 6. 

/)-Toluidine 272-4 1924,2. 272-1 1929,4; I.C.T. 

Benzylamine 2,'J2''J ^924,1; 1910,1. 
C7H10O4 Dimethyl mesaconate 341-9 1925,2. 

Dimethyl citraconate 346 - 1 1925, 2. 
C7H12O c>'c/oHeptanone 288-0 1928,6. 

2-Methylc>'c/ohexanone 288-2 1930,4. 

3-IVIethylcj'c/ohexanone 290-0 1930, 4. 

4-Methylo''^/ohexanone 289*6 1930, 4. 
C7H12O2 Ethylcyc/obutanecarboxylate 309-4 1927, i. 

C7H12O4 Diethyl malonate 362-0 1924, i ; 1913, i. 360-3 -TOjr, 

C7H13N «-Heptonitrile 316 -i 1931,6. 

C7Hi40 Oenanthol 318-0 1931,6. 

Di-n-propyl ketone 314- 1 1924,1 ; 1913,3. 
C7H14O2 i-Amyl acetate 337 - 1 1924, i / 1^84, i. 331-6 1924, i ; 


t-Butyl propionate 331-8 1924, i ; 1884, i. 

n-Propyl butyrate 333-8 1924,1 ; 1884,1. 

M-Propyl z-butyrate 332-6 1924,1 ; 1884,1. 

Ethyl valerate 332-1 1924, i ; 1884, i. 

Ethyh-valerate 331-9 1924,1 ; 1920,2. 
C7Hi5Br «-Heptyl bromide 363-0 1931,6. 

C7H15I M-Heptyl iodide 384-5 193^,6. 

C7Hi60 M-Heptyl alcohol 313-4 ^93^,6. 

C7H5OCI Benzoyl chloride 289-8 1929, 4 ; 1884,1. 
C7H5NS Phenyl thiocyanate 307-3 1929,9. 


C7H5NS Phenyl isothiocyanate 304-1 1925, i ; 1913, i. 305-4 

1929, 9. 
C7H7ON Formanilide 273-5 1924,1; 1910,1. 

Benzamide 279-9 ^924, i ; 1910,1. 
C7H7O2N Salicylamide 295-3 ^9^4, ^ ; ^9^0,1. 

o-Nitrotoluene 297-7 ^924, i ; 1920,2. 301 -i 1925,3. 

w-Nitrotoluene 297-0 1924,1 ; 1920,2. 300-6 1925,3. 

/)-Nitrotoluene 302-8 1924,2 ; 1924,1. 301-6 1928,4. 
C7H7O3N o-Nitro-anisole 322-1 1930,8. 

/>-Nitro-anisole 322-6 1930,8. 
C7HijON2 Phenylmethylnitrosoamine 313-6 1924,1; 1910,1. 
C7H10O2N2 n-Butyl diazo-acetate 326-0 1930,1. 
C7H10O4N2 Ethyl diazomalonate 381-6 1930,1. 
C7H10NCI Methyl aniline hydrochloride 348-6 1929, 3. 
C7H11O2CI3 z'-Amyl trichloro-acetate 443-0 1924,1 ; 1913,3. 
C7H15ON Heptaldoxime 343-7 1929,4; 1903,1. 
C7H16O4S2 Sulphonal 465-5 1928,1. 
C7H4NClSe /)-Chlorophenylselenocyanide 349-3 1929,2. 
C7H7NBrSe p-Bromophenylselenocyanide 366-1 1929,2. 
C7H7O2CIS ^-Toluene sulphonylchloride 367-8 1928,1. 

CgHio o-Xylene 283-3 1924, i; 1884, i. 283-3 1924, l; 

1911, I. 
TW-Xylene 284-6 1924, l; 1912, i. 283-3 1924, i; 
1884, I. 285-1 1924, I ; 191 5, I. 284-3 1924, I ; 
1911,1. 284-0 1931,6. 
/)-Xylene 283-8 1924, i; 1884, i. 283-8 1924, i; 
1911,1. 283-8 1931,6. 
CjjHio Ethylbenzene 283-0 1924, i ; 1884,1. 283-8 1924,1; 

1911,1. 284-0 1931,6. 
CsHm Octine 327-4 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 

CgHie I : I Dimethylcj'c/ohexane 316- 1 1924,1; 1904,1. 

CgHis n-Octane 350-3 1929,4. 351-0 1931,6. 

Di wobutyl 345-0 1924, i ; 1884, i. 
P-Methylheptane 348-7 1929,4; 1924,4. 
Pe-Dimethylhexane 345-5 1929,4. 
C8H7N Phenylacetonitrile 293-6 1924,1 ; 1910,1. 293-4 ^9^4, 

I ; 1911, 2. 
o-Toluonitrile 292-5 1924,1 ; 1910,1. 292-9 1924,1 ; 

1913,1. 290-6 1925,3. 292-7 1929,4; I.C.T. 
w-Toluonitrile 280 -o(?) 1924,1 ; 1910, i. 28o-7(?) 1924, 

I ; 1913,1. 295-6 1925,3. 
/)-Toluonitrile 295-2 1924,1; 1910,1. 295-9 ^9^4, i ; 

1913,1. 294-4 1925,3. 
o-Tolyl isocyanide 292-9 1930,6. 
p-Tolyl isocyanide 295-5 ^930,6. 295 1930, y. 
CsHgO Acetophenone 293-8 1924,1 ; 1913,2. 

C8H8O2 Methyl benzoate 310-4 1929,4; I.C.T. 

o-Methoxybenzaldehyde 312-4 1930,8. 
/)-Methoxybenzaldehyde 313-9 1930,8. 
CgHgOs Methyl salicylate 323-7 1929,4; 1917,1. 322-1 1930, 

8 . 


QHgOs Methyl-/)-hydroxybenzoate 331-8 1930,8. 

/)-Methoxy-salicylaldehyde 325-1 1930,8. 
CgHioO Phenetole 303-5 1924, i ; 19^ 5, i- 303-6 1924, i ; 

1911,3. 302-8 1924,1 ; 1920,2. 
C8H10O4 normal Methyl - 3 - methyl - cyclopi opene.- 1:2- dicarboxylate 

371-6 1927,1. 
CsHnN Dimethylaniline 311-7 1929, 4 ; I-C.T. 

Ethylaniline 310-4 1924, 4 ; I.C.T. 
CgHiaOi Ethyl maleate 387-0 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 

Ethyl fumarate 391-2 1924,1 ; 1912, i. 392-4 1924,1; 

1913, 1. 
CgHuO 2-Methyl-A2-heptene-6-one 340-7 1928,5. 

CgHuOj Ethyl dimethylacetoacetate 382-3 1924, i ; 1913, i. 

CsHiiOi Diethyl succinate 396-2 1931,1. 

CgHuOs Diethyl malate 412-4 1929,4; ^9^3,3. 

CsHiiOs Diethyl tartrate 428-1 1929, 4 ; 1917,1. 

CsHijN M-Octylic nitrile 356-0 1931,6. 

CgHisO Methylhexylketone 355-7 ^924,^; ^9ii,2. 35^-8 1931, 

P-Methyl-Ag-heptenol 345-5 1928,5. 
CgHi602 n-Octoic acid (caprylic acid) 365 ■ 6 1929, 6. 

z-Amyl propionate 372-1 1924,1 ; 1884,1. 
i-Butyl butyrate 370-5 1924,1 ; 1884,1. 
z-Butyl i-butyrate 371-8 1924, t ; 1884, i. 
n-Propyl valerate 371-9 1924,1; 1884,1. 
CgHijBr ;z-Octyl bromide 402-4 1931,6. 

CgHigO «-Octyl alcohol 354-4 I93i,6. 

5ec-Octyl alcohol 360-4 1929,4; I.C.T. 
Di-n-butyl ether 369-9 1931,6. 
CgHigTe Di-«-butyl telluride 426-8 1930,2. 

CgHisN Di-2-butylamine 372-1 1929, 4 ; I.C.T. 

CgHsoSi Tetraethylsilicane 412-1 1931,2. 

CgHaoSn Tin tetra-ethyl 441-1 1929,^- 

CgHaoPb Lead tetra-ethyl 456-6 1929,8- 

CgHiOzCla as-Phthalyl chloride 367-8 1927, 3- 
j-Phthalyl chloride 373-9 1927,3. 
CsHjON o-Anisyl isocyanide 314- 1 i93o,6, 

p-Anisylisocyanide 314-5 1930,6. 315 1930,7. 
CgHgON Acetanilide 321-8 1924, i ; 1910,1. 

Phenylacetamide 320-2 1924,1 ; 1910,1. 
Benz-anf/-aldoxime O-methyl ether 324-2 1925,1. 
Benz-anff-aldoxime N-methyl ether 325-9 1925,1. 
CgHioOzS Benzylmethylsulphone 369-8 1928,1. 
CgHiiOzN Ethyl i-cyanocyc/obutane-i-carboxylate 360-4 1927,1. 
C8Hn04Cl Diethyl chloromaleate 423-3 1929, 4 ; I-CT. 
CaHi204N2 Ethyl diazosuccinate 428-4 1930,1. 
CgHiaNCl Ethylaniline hydrochloride 381-9 1929,3. 
CgHiaNBr Dimethylaniline hydrobromide 412-8 1929, 3. 406-3 

1914,3. ^ ^ 

CgHiaOjN Ethyl t-propylcyanoacetate 374-8 1928,6. 
CgHivON Methylhexylketoxime 375-2 1931,6. 
CgHisOiSz Trional 493-8 1928,1. 
CgHaoOiSi Ethyl orthosilicate 487-6 I93i,2. 
CgHisOiNS Dimethylaniline bisulphate 469 9 1929,3. 


C9H12 «-PropyIbenzene 322-0 ig24, i ; 1884,1. 323-1 1931, 

/)-Ethyltoluene 321-7 1924, i ; 1884, i. 
Mesitylene 320-5 1924, i ; 1884, i. 320-8 1924, i ; 

1 91 1. 1. 

C9H7N Quinoline 306-4 1924,1 ; 1911,3. 

C9Hi40 Phorone 367-9 1928,2. 368-3 1929,4; igog,i. 

C9H14O4 Ethyl cj;cZopropane-i : i-dicarboxylate 417-1 192'],!. 

Ethyl cyc/opropane-i : 2-dicarboxylate 422-8 I92y,i. 
C9H17N «-Nononitrile 395-2 1931,6. 

C9H18O Methylheptylketone 396-8 1931,6. 

Se-Dimethyi-Ag-heptenol 383-2 1928,5. 
CgHisOg Ethyl-«-heptylate 413-3 1931,6. 

z-Amyl butyrate 410-9 1924, i ; 1920, 2. 408-5 1924, 
I ; 1913, 3. 
CsHaiN Tripropylamine 413-6 1924, i ; 1910, i. 414-6 1924, 

4 ; 1917, 1- 

C9H10O2N2 Benzene azoformic ethyl ester 402-1 1930,13. 

C9H11ON Methylacetanilide 354-2 1924, i ; 1910,1. 

C9Hn02N Ethyl phenylcarbamate 375-6 1924, i ; 1910,1. 

C9H12OCI2 aa'-Dichlorophorone 427-7 1928,2. 

C9Hi20Br2 a«'-Dibromophorone 463-2 1928,2. 

C9H12O2S Ethyl /)-toluenesulphinate 410-3 1923,4. 

C9H12O3S Ethyl /)-toluenesulphonate 431-8 1928,1. 

C9H19ON Methylheptylketoxime 414-6 I931, 6. 

C9Hi4NHgl3 Phenyltrimethylammonium mercuritri-iodide 719-1 1930, 

CioHg Naphthalene 312-5 1928, 4. 

C10H14 ?z-Butylbenzene 361-7 1931,6. 

^-Cymene 356-9 1924, I; 18S4, I. 360-7 1924. i; 

I 12:4:5 Tetramethylbenzene 355 -6 1929, 4 ; 1900, i. 
C10H22 w-Decane 429-7 1931, 6. 

Di-Koamyl 422-7 1924, i; 1884, i. 425-7 1924, i; 

1911.2. 427-8 1924,1 ; 1920,2. 426-9 1931,6. 
C10H10O2 Benzoylacetone 382-4 1929,8. 

Methyl cinnamate 383 • i (?) 1924,1; 1912,1. 385-2 (?) 

1924,1 ; igi3, I. 373-9 1925,2. 
Methyl a//o cinnamate 376-1 1925,2. 
C10H12O Anethole 363-2 1924,1 ; 1913,2. 

C10H14O4 normal Ethyl 3 -methyl- Ag-cycZopropene-i : 2-dicarboxylate 
450-2 1927,1. 
labile Ethyl 3-methyl-A2-cj'cZopropene-i : 2-dicarboxy1ate 
447-8 1927,1- 
CioHieO* Ethyl c:Vc/o-butane-i : i-dicarboxylate 454-1 ig2j,i. 
CioHigO Isopulegol 392-2 1928, 5. 

Citronellal 415-2 1928,5. 
CioHigOa Ethyl diethylacetoacetate 446-6 1924,1 ; 1913,1. 

C10H20O <Z-Citronellol 421-7 1928,5. 

/-Rhodinol 421-6 1928,5. 


C10H20O2 M-Decoic acid (Capric acid) 447 "7 ig2g,6. 

Ethyl w-octoate AS'^'l ^93^,(>- 
C10H22O Di-«-amyl ether 449-9 1931,6. 

Di-t-amyl ether 445-7 1929,4; 1914, 2. 
CioH702N a-Nitronaphthalene 363-3 1928,4. 
CioH902Br Methyl a-bromocinnamate 426-6 1925, 2. 

Methyl a-bromo-a//o-cinnamate 427-9 1925,2. 

Methyl f3-bromocinnamate 424-8 1925,2. 

Methyl p-bromo-«//o-cinnamate 427-5 1925, 2. 
CioHiaON Ethylacetanilide 398-5 1924,1 ; 1910,1. 
CjoHi404Be Beryllium acetylacetonate 470-4 1929,8. 
CioHi502N Ethyl-o'c/o-pentyl-cyano-acetate 430-1 1928,6. 
CioHi502Br a-Bromo-a'methoxyphorone 455-3 1928,2. 
CioH,404Cl2Sn few-Acetylacetone tindichloride 617-2 1929,8. 
CioHieNHgls Phenyldimethylethylammonium mercuritri-iodide 754-0 
1930, 12. 

C11H16 n-Amyl benzene 402-0 1931,6. 

Pentamethylbenzene 390-0 1929,1 ; 1900,1. 
C11H20 Undecine 404-5 (?) 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 

C11H10O2 Ethyl phenyl propiolate 375-2(?) 1924,1 ; 1912,1 . 41c -3 

1929, 7, P- 42. 
CUH12O2 Ethyl cinnamate 417-2 1924,1 ; 1913,1. 
C11H14O3 Dehydroangustione 435 1931 , 5- 
CiiHieOs a-Acetoxyphorone 459-4 1928,2. 

<f/-Angustione 442 1931, 5- 
CnHi804 Ethyl caronate (Ethyl trans-T, : 3 dimethyl cyclo propane-i : 2- 

dicarboxylate) 493-2 I92j,i. 
C11H20O2 Undecylenic acid 478-2 1929,4; 1920,2. 
CiiH2202 Ethyl pelargonate 493-6 1931,6. 
CUH22O4 a-Monocaprylin 514 1930,15. 
CUH15O2N Ethyl cjv'c/o hexylene cyano-acetate 454-7 1928,6. 
CiiHisOsBr a-Bromo «'-acetoxyphorone 506-4 1928,2. 
C4iHi702N Ethyl cj'c/ohexylcyanoacetate 467-6 1928,6. 
CiiHisNHgIa Phenylmethyldiethylammonium mercuritri-iodide 789-5 

79.70, 12. 


Ci2Hi8 w-Hexylbenzene 442-0 1931, 6. 

C12H10N2 Azobenzene 429-5 1930,13. 

Ci2HioHg Mercury diphenyl 448-7 1929,8. 

Ci2HinSe Diphenyl selenide 445-6 1929,2. 

Ci2HioSe2 Diphenyl diselenide 506-5 1929,2. 

Ci2HioTe Diphenyl telluride 457-4 1929,11. 

C12H11N Diphenylamine 402-1 1924,1; 1910,1. 

Ci2Hi602 ^-Propyl phenylpropionate 468-7 1924, i ; 1912,1. 
j-Propyl phenylpropionate 467-4 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 

C12H21O2 w-Dodecoic acid (Laurie acid) 532-8 1929,6. 

CiaHjsSi Tetrapropyl silicane 565-3 1931,2. 

C,2HsOTe Phenoxtellurine 452-9 1930,2, 


C12H10ON2 Azoxybenzene 444-7 1925,1. 
CiaHioOSe Diphenyl selenoxide 461 -6 ig2g, 2. 
C12H10O2S Diphenyl sulphone 465-7 1928,1. 
Ci2HioClAs Diphenylchloroarsine 487-1 1929,2. 
CiaHioCUTe Diphenyltelluridichloride 547-3 1930,2. 
C12H15O2TI Dimethylthallium benzoylacetonate 523-7 1929,8. 
C12H15O4I lodosobenzene propionate 583-5 1931,^. 
C12H17O2N Ethyl cyc/o-heptylenecyano-acetate 487-7 1928,6. 
Ci2Hi804Be Beryllium propionyl acetonate 539-0 1929,8. 
Ci2Hi902N Ethyl cj^c/oheptycyanoacetate 502-7 1928,6. 
Ci2H2oNHg2ls Phenyltriethylammonium dimercuripentaiodide 1060 J930, 
7i . 


C13H12 Diphenylmethane 419-0 1924,1 ; 1911,1. 414-5 1924, 

I ; 1919, 1- 

C13H10O Benzophenone 428-2 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 425-2 1924,1 ; 

191 3, 2. 
C13H10O3 Diphenyl carbonate 467-4 1925,1. 
C13H12N2 o-Methylazobenzene 463-8 1930,13. 

7W-Methyl azobenzene 467-3 1930,13. 
Ci3Hi402 i-Butyl phenylpropiolate 424-7(?) 1924,1; 1912,1. 487-1 

1929, 7, P- 42. 
C13H26O4 a-Monocaprin 588 1930, 15. 
C13H12O2S Phenylbenzylsulphone 503-5 1928,1. 


C14H10 Phenanthrene 414 -i 1928,4. 

C14H14 aa-Diphenylethane 449-8 1924,1 ; 1919,1. 

CjiHioOa Benzil 480-8 1927,3. 

C14H14N2 o-o'-Dimethylazobenzene 501-3 1930,13. 

7M-w'-Dimethylazobenzene 504-6 1930,13. 
C14H15N Dibenzylamine 485-6 1924,1; 1910,1. 

C14H16O4 Diethyl benzalmalonate 561 -i 1928,6. 
C14H18O4 Diethyl benzylmalonate 567-7 1928,6. 
C14H24O4 Di-z-Amyl maleate 613-6 1924, i ; 1912, i. 
C14H26O4 Di-t-Amyl succinate 621-3 (?) 1924, i ; 1913, i. 

Di-ethyl sebacate 646-9 (?) 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 
C14H28O2 M-Tetradecoic acid (Myristic acid) 605-8 1929,6. 
C14H14ON2 o-Azoxytoluene 528-6 1925,1. 
Ci4Hi402Te Di-/)-anisyl telluride 575-2 1930,2. 
Ci4Hi402Cl2Te Di-p-anisyl telluridichloride 663-2 1930,2, 

C15H16 Diphenylpropane 484-6 1924, i ; 1919,1. 

Ditolylmethane 488-0 1924,1 ; 1919,1. 
C15H22O8 Ethyl o'''^o-propane 1:1:2: 2 tetracarboxylate 701 -i 1927, 

C16H30O4 a-Monolaurin 664 1930, I5- 


Ci5H2i02N Ethyl decahydro-P-naphthylene cyano-acetate 582-3 ^928, 

CisHjiOeAl Aluminium acetylacetonate 680-5 ^9^9,^- 
C16H23O2N Ethyl decahydro-[3-naphthyl cyano-acetate 594-6 1928,6. 


C16H14O4 2 : 2'-Dimethoxybenzil 596-8 1927,3. 

CigHigOs a-Benzoyloxyphorone 583-9 1928,2. 

C16H32O2 Palmitic acid 693-2 1929,6. 

C16H33I Cetyl iodide 748-9 1931,6. 

Ci6Hi703Br a-Bromo-a'-benzoyloxyphorone 642-4 1928, 2. 

Ci6Hi802Br2 a-Bromo-a'-/)-bromobenzyloxyphorone 684-0 1928, 2. 

Ci6Hi802Te2 Di-/)-phenetyl ditelluride 723-0 1930,2. 

CieHisOaBr a-/)-Bromobenzyloxyphorone 630-7 1928,2. 

C16H34N2S Tri-i-amylammonium thiocyanate 76i-6(?) 1929,3; 1914, 

Ci6Hi602Cl2Te Di-2-chloro-/>-phenetyltelluride (?) 731-2 1930,2. 
Ci6Hi9SHgl3 Dibenzylethylsulphonium mercuritri-iodide 915-2 1930, 



C17H14O Distyrylketone 564-5 1928,2. 

Ci7H3402 Margaric acid 733-2 1929,6. 
C17H34O4 a-Monomyristin 740 1930, 15. 
Ci7Hi20Br2 a-a'-Dibromodistyrylketone 650-7 1928,2. 
Ci7H2iSHgl3 Dibenzyl-?7-propylsulphonium mercuritri-iodide 952-0 


QgHisP Triphenyl phosphine 607-7 ^9^2, i. 

CigHisSb Triphenyl stibine 637-4 ^927, 2 ; 1917, i. 
Ci8H3602 Stearic acid 778-0 1929,6. 
Ci8Hi504P Triphenyl phosphate 686-5 ^925, i- 
C18H27O6AI Aluminium propionylacetonate 788-0 192^,8. 
C18H30O7N4 Tetrapropylammonium picrate 932-2 1929,3. 
Ci8H3oOi3Be4 Basic beryllium propionate 985-4 1929,8. 
Ci8H23SHgl3 Dibenzyl-M-butylsulphonium mercuritri-iodide 1000 Jpjo, 


Cx9H3g04 a-Monopalmitin 841 1930, 15. 

CaoHggOi Di-/-Amyl sebacate 877-0 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 

C20H44NI Tetra ?-amyl ammonium iodide 895-5 ^929, 3 ; I9^4,3- 


C21H21N Tribenzylamine 695-7 ^9^4, ^ ,' ^910,1. 

C21H42O4 a-Monostearin 894-0 1 930,15. 

C03H46O2 i-Amyl stearate 974-2 1924,1 ; 1913,3. 

C24H2oSi Tetraphenyl silicane 787-5 1931,2. 

C26H54 n-Hexacosane 1082 1929, 4 ; 1923, i. 

C32H66 «-Dotriacontane 1322 1929, 4 ; 1929, 6. 


C33He206 Tricaprin 1404 1930, 14. 

C39H74O6 Trilaurin 1648 xpjo, 14. 

CisHgeOe Trimyristin 1892 I930, 14. 

CsiHgsOe Tripalmitin 2120 1924, ^ ; ^9^2, i. corrected, 1930, 14. 
2134 1930, 14. 

C57H110OG Tristearin 2380 1924,1 ; 1912,1. 2376 1930,14. 

CsoHiga M-Hexacontane 2480 1929,4; 1923,1. 



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Report of Cofiimittee appointed to co-operate in an Expedition to itivestigate 
the Biology, Geology, and Geography of Lakes Bari?igo and Rudolf, 
Northern Kenya, and Lake Edward, Uganda (Prof. J. S. Gardiner, 
Chairman ; Dr. E. B. Worthington and Mr. J. T. Saunders, 
Secretaries ; Dr. W. T. Calman, Prof. J. W. Gregory, Prof. R. N. 
RuDMOSE Brown, Dr. L. S. B. Leakey). 

The expedition, which was in the field from October 1930 to October 
193 1, consisted of : Dr. E. B. Worthington as leader and zoologist ; Mrs. 
Stella Worthington as geographer and surveyor ; Mr. L. C. Beadle as 
chemist and zoologist ; Mr. V. E. Fuchs as geologist ; and Mr. R. E. Dent, 
Assistant Game Warden in charge of fish in Kenya Colony (for the first 
two months). 

Faunistic, ecological, geographical and geological work was carried out on 
the following lakes in Kenya : Rudolf, Baringo, Nakuru, Hannington and 
Naivasha ; and also the following in Uganda : Edward, George, Bunyoni, 
Nabugaboj Kachira, Nakavali and Kijanebalola. The whole work was 
designed to complete limnological studies of the lakes of Kenya and Uganda, 
which were started in 1927 by the fishing surveys of Lakes Victoria, Albert 
and Kioga and were continued by Miss P. M. Jenkin on the small lakes of 
Kenya in 1929. As a result of the Cambridge Expedition it may now be 
said that all the important lakes of Kenya and Uganda have received a 
thorough preliminary biological survey. 

Collections of the aquatic fauna and flora were made. At present they 
are being examined by experts in the different groups, and ultimately the 
whole collection will be deposited at the British Museum of Natural History. 

A summary account of the expedition's work has already been published 
in the Geographical Journal, vol. Ixxix, pp. 275-297. Other publications 


relating to the expedition are in Discovery, February 1932, p. 40 ; Nature, 
January 9, 1932, p. 55 ; The Empire Survey Review, vol. i, p. 217 ; The 
Times, etc. 

Arrangements have been made with the Linnean Society of London to 
publish the general scientific results of the expedition as a series of papers 
in the Journal of the Society. The following papers are complete and now 
in the press : (i) Worthington : ' General Introduction and Station List.' 
(2) Worthington : ' Fishes other than Cichlidae.' (3) Beadle : ' Chemistry 
in relation to Fauna and Flora.' (4) Beadle : ' Bionomics of African 
Swamps.' (5) H. W. Parker : ' Amphibians and Reptiles.' (6) Prof. P. 
de Beauchamp : ' Rotifera and Gastrotricha.' 

Another series of about six papers will be ready for publication in the 
autumn of this year. 

The expedition was financed by the Royal Society Government Grants, 
British Museum (Natural History), Percy Sladen Memorial Trust, Balfour 
Fund, British Association, Royal Geographical Society, Gloyne Fund, 
Gonville and Caius College, Worts Fund, and assistance was also received 
from the Uganda Government. The balance sheets have already been 
audited by the Royal Society Government Grants, and have been sub- 
mitted to the British Association through Prof. Stanley Gardiner. All the 
societies who contributed grants have agreed to allow the balance of £170 
at the completion of the field work to be devoted to publication in the 
Linnean Society's Journal. 


Interim Report of Committee appointed to examine and report upon 
Petrographic Classification and Nomenclature (Mr. W. Campbell Smith, 
Chairman ; Dr. A. K. Wells, Secretary ; Prof. P. G. H. Boswell, 
Prof. A. Holmes, Prof. A. Johannsen, Prof. P. Niggli, Prof. H. H. 
Read, Prof. S. J. Shand, Dr. H. H. Thomas, Prof. C. E. Tilley, 
Dr. G. W. Tyrrell). 

The Committee first met in December 1931, and after general discussion 
of possible lines of action decided to issue a questionnaire framed to ascer- 
tain the opinions of petrologists on controversial points in nomenclature and 
classification. The questionnaire, in its approved form, was published in 
February 1932, in the Geological Magazine and in Science, in England and 
the U.S.A. respectively. 

As a result, replies to some or all of the questions have been received from 
H. L. Ailing, E. B. Bailey, A. F. Buddington, R. Campbell, T. Gillette, 
C. K. Graeber, M. G. Hoffman, H. Jeffreys, A. J. Johannsen, W. Q. 
Kennedy, E. S. Larsen, B. Lightfoot, A. C. Macgregor, A. M. Macgregor, 
P. Niggh, H. S. Palmer, T. C. Phemister, H. H. Read, J. B. Scrivenor, 
S. J. Shand, Q. J. Singewald, G. W. Tyrrell, and A. C. Woodford. Dr. A. 
Brammall has rendered valuable assistance to the Committee in connection 
with the preparation of the questionnaire and the discussion of the results. 

Some of the replies have taken the form of lengthy communications, and, 
particularly on the more controversial questions, opinions are forcefully 

The problem before the Committee was twofold : the accurate naming 


of rocks, and their grouping for purposes of classification. The Committee 
finds that there is Httle prospect of any one of the several existing schemes 
finding general acceptance. Replies to the questionnaire indicate an 
almost unanimous opinion that classification of igneous rocks must be based 
on ascertainable facts — composition, texture, and mode of occurrence — 
and that theories of origin must be excluded. Many petrologists are con- 
vinced that no one scheme of classification is adequate to meet all require- 
ments and advocate two (or more) classifications : one based on mineral 
content, the other on chemical composition, i.e. a classification of magmas 
rather than of rocks. Apart from these, the general opinion strongly 
favours classification based upon mineral composition and texture.^ There 
is even more general agreement that the naming of individual rocks must 
be so determined. 

The Committee is of the opinion that rock nomenclature should be 
independent of age, geographical distribution, and the nature of the asso- 
ciated rocks. Exception should be made of certain dyke rocks, notably the 
aplites and pegmatites. 

On the question of whether there should be three main divisions or only 
two, opinion is almost equally divided. Similarly there is a sharp division 
of opinion as to whether texture or mode of occurrence should be used to 
separate the groups. In general, opinion favours either two divisions, based 
on texture ; or three, based on mode of occurrence, i.e. habit. The 
Committee suggests a compromise and advocates three main divisions 
defined in terms of texture. 

When the three divisions are based rigidly on field occurrence it is 
inevitable that two rocks, identical in composition and in all their physical 
characters, should bear different names ; and that, on the other hand, two 
rocks differing widely in texture and appearance should bear the same 
name. Admittedly, field relations are frequently so obscure as to render 
their interpretation a matter of personal opinion. The Committee thinks it 
desirable that the personal factor should be eliminated as far as possible in 
classification and nomenclature, and believes that the ambiguities referred 
to above would disappear were nomenclature made independent of mode of 
occurrence. Several of those petrologists who, in general, favour the other 
course are apparently willing to go half-way, as they raise no objection to 
the use of such terms as ' dyke-basalt.' 

The Committee finds that many petrologists, particularly among the 
teachers of the subject, experience difficulty in defining and using the terms 
' plutonic,' ' hypabyssal ' and ' volcanic ' (or ' extrusive ') when used with 
reference to individual rocks. This is notably the case with ' hypabyssal ' 
— a misnomer, in that many dyke rocks have consolidated under the same 
depth-pressure conditions as the plutonic rocks with which they are asso- 
ciated. Further, both granite and gabbro (plutonic rock types) occur as 
dykes (hypabyssal rock bodies) ; while many composite intrusions consist 
in part of ' plutonic ' gabbro and in part of ' hypabyssal ' granophyre in 
intimate association. 

The conception of the existence of three phases of igneous activity, 
commonly referred to as plutonic (major intrusive), dyke phase and volcanic, 
is of great value in mapping and in the interpretation of geological maps ; 
but the Committee points out that duplication of rock names and other 
ambiguities arise when these terms are applied to the roughly corresponding, 
though actually not congruent, main rock groups. 

1 By ' texture ' the Committee means ' those features which depend upon the 
size and shape, and arrangement and distribution of the component minerals.' 
A. Johannsen, A Descriptive Petrography of the Igneous Rocks (1931). vol. i, p. 32. 


With regard to rock names, most petrologists favour the retention of names 
long familiar to readers of Zirkel, Rosenbusch, Iddings, Harker, and Hatch 
—with the proviso that, where necessary, these names should be revised to 
meet modern requirements. That some revision is necessary is evidenced 
by the fact that even the commonest names are used in several different 
senses. Thus the distinction between basalt and andesite is based by 
different writers on silica percentage, colour index, and specific plagioclase. 

The Committee is of the opinion that agreement on the re-definition of 
names in common use can be best reached through systematic study, by 
competent petrologists, of the rocks themselves. 

Impressed by the lack of uniformity in, and important omissions from, 
descriptions of rocks, the Committee believes that systematic petrography 
would greatly benefit if all authors would embody clear statements of all 
the diagnostic characters of the rocks they describe. It would be an 
obvious convenience if these characters were listed in the same order. A 
recommendation on this point will be made in a subsequent report. 

The Committee calls attention to the Report on British Petrographic 
Nomenclature {Min. Mag., vol. 19, 1921, pp. 137-147), with which, in the 
main, it agrees, but to which it may propose amendments later. 

It is hoped that the suggestions made in this interim report will evoke 
discussion and correspondence, before they are incorporated as definite 
recommendations in the final report. Such correspondence should be 
addressed to the Secretary of this Committee at University of London, 
King's College, Strand, London, W.C. 2. 


Report of Committee appointed to co-operate with the Imperial Soil Bureau 
to examine the soil resources of the Empire (Sir E. J. Russell, Chairman ; 
Mr. G. V. Jacks, Secretary ; Prof. C. B. Fawcett, Mr. H. King, 
Dr. L. Dudley Stamp, Mr. A. Stevens, Dr. S. W. Wooldridge 
(from Section E) ; Dr. E. M.Crowther, Dr. W. G. OGG.Prof. G.W. 
Robinson (from Section M)). 

The Committee was formed as a result of a suggestion put forward by 
Sir E. J. Russell in his paper on the ' Soil Resources of the British Empire,' 
given before Section E, at the British Association Meeting in 1931. The 
function of the Committee is to organise a survey of the soil resources of 
the Empire on a geographical, ecological and climatic basis. Two meetings 
of the Committee have been held. At the first meeting, it was decided to 
invite the Schools of Geography of British Universities and some well- 
known experts in the overseas Empire to co-operate in collecting the 
climatic and ecological data of different parts of the Empire, each indi- 
vidual or school to be asked to undertake the work for that country of which 
he or it should have special knowledge or special facilities for obtaining 
the required data. At the same time, the Imperial Soil Bureau would under- 
take to collect all the available information relating to the soils themselves. 
The invitations to co-operate with the Committee were accepted by 
nearly all who were approached on the matter, and the Committee desires 
to record its sincere appreciation of the willingness with which its request 
for assistance was answered. The work on the different parts of the Empire 
has been allotted as follows : 


Canada : Prof. P. M. Roxby, Department of Geography, Liverpool 

India : Mr. A. V. Williamson, Department of Geography, Leeds Univer- 

Ireland : Dr. D. K. Smee, Bedford College, London. 

Australia : Prof. O. H. T. Rishbeth, Department of Geography, 
University College, Southampton. 

New Zealand : Mr. R. O. Buchanan, University College, London. 

East Africa : Prof. Rodwell Jones, School of Economics, London. 

West Indies, British Guiana, etc. : Prof. F. Hardy, Trinidad. 

Tanganyika : Mr. G. Milne, Amani (provisional). 

Several other individuals have expressed their readiness to co-operate, if 

At the second meeting of the Committee, recommendations for collecting 
the required climatic and ecological data were drawn up. Those recom- 
mendations have been sent to all who are helping in the Survey, and it is 
hoped that the work on the different parts of the Empire is now well in hand. 


Seventh Interim Report of Committee on Earth Pressures (Mr. F. E. 
Wentworth-Sheilds, Chairman ; Dr. J. S. Owens, Secretary ; 
Prof. G. Cook, Mr. T. E. N. Fargher, Prof. A. R. Fulton, Prof. 
F. C. Lea, Prof. R. V. Southwell, Dr. R. E. Stradling, Dr. W. N. 
Thomas, Mr. E. G. Walker, Mr. J. S. Wilson). 

Since the Committee's last report two meetings have been held, one at 
Burlington House in April 1932, and one at Garston in July 1932. Both 
were chiefly concerned with the research work which has been carried on 
at the Building Research Station at Garston by Prof. C. F. Jenkin, who 
has collaborated with the Committee in this work for the past five years, and 
who has contributed the report which is attached hereto. His work, of 
which the Committee would again express high appreciation, may be said 
to have reached an important stage, as he considers the results now justify 
his laying down ' rules ' for estimating the lateral pressure of sand on 
retaining walls, which rules are stated and explained in a notable paper, 
which was read and discussed at the Institution of Civil Engineers in 
February 1932. The paper formed the subject of further discussion at the 
Committee's meeting in April 1932, when the reliability of some of the rules 
was challenged. The Committee, however, welcomed the announcement 
that the Research Department intended to publish a paper with the addition 
of relevant tables, and suggested an introductory note, which Prof. Jenkin 
agreed to. At the July meeting Prof. Jenkin further explained the work 
he is doing on clay. At the same meeting Mr. E. G. Walker presented 
an abstract he had made of an important paper by Mr. Glennon Gilboy, 
published in the Proceedings of the American Society of Civil Engineers 
(October 193 1). The paper summarises the principal features of the pro- 
gramme of research on soils which is being carried out at the Massachusetts 
Institution of Technology. The work was started some years ago by Dr. 
Charles Terzaghi, who is still in touch with it. Mr. Walker also presented an 
abstract of an article in Engineering (May 30 and June 13, 1930), describing 
various experiments, including one with sand and ' till ' on a ' wall ' 10 ft. 


high, specially constructed so that the horizontal and vertical loads exerted 
on it by an earth backing could be measured. 

The Connmittee consider that the research on which Prof. Jenkin is now 
engaged is likely to be of great value, and they recommend that his and 
their work be carried on for a further period. 

Building Research Station, 

July I, 1932. 



The investigation of earth pressures has been continued without 
interruption during the past year. 

A very large number of measurements of sand pressures on retaining 
walls has been made with the experimental apparatus, and a fairly complete 
mathematical theory, which I call the revised Wedge Theory, has been worked 
out, which agrees with the experimental pressures, but no mathematical 
theory has been found to explain the heights of the centre of pressure. 

A general account of the work was given in a paper illustrated by 
experiments read to the Engineering Section of the British Association last 
year, and a discourse on ' The Mechanics of Shifting Sand ' was delivered 
to the Royal Institution on February 19. 

The whole of the work was described in a paper to the Institution of Civil 
Engineers, which was discussed on February 23 and March i. At the dis- 
cussion an apparent disagreement between my results and those obtained by 
Takabeya in Japan was pointed out ; this has been investigated, and an 
article entitled ' Predicting the Internal Motion of Sand ' was published in 
Engineering for May 13, which shows that my theory could actually predict 
the results obtained by Takabeya. 

I am now engaged on the problem of the pressure exerted by clay. Some 
six different ideal materials have been investigated, and their mathematical 
equations worked out. Experiments with china-clay and oiled glass beads 
and other substances have begun. The most promising method of testing 
these materials appears to be the determination of their stress-strain diagrams 
when subject to torsion (pure shear). Preliminary experiments have turned 
out more successful than was expected, and a complete recording torsion 
meter is in course of construction. 

Simple large-scale experiments on clay, sufficient to check the theoretical 
calculations, are being considered, and do not seem to be impossible. 

I have received valuable assistance from Mr. Wentworth-Sheilds, who 
obtained the opinions of a number of experienced engineers on a question 
I submitted. 

The difficulties presented by clay are very great, and it is too soon to offer 
any opinion as to the probability of the ultimate success of the investigation. 

C. F. Jenkin. 



Interim Report of Committee on Electrical Terms and Definitions (Prof. Sir 
J. B. Henderson, Chairman ; Prof. F. G. Baily and Prof. G. W. O. 
Howe, Secretaries ; Prof. W. Cramp, Dr. W. D. Dye, Prof. W. H. 
EccLES, Prof. C. L. Fortescue, Sir R. Glazebrook, Prof. A. E. 
Kennelly, Prof. E. W. Marchant, Sir F. E. Smith, Dr. W. E. 
SuMPNER, Prof. L. R. Wilberforce). 

The subject of electrical terms and definitions is being considered by many 
committees in this and other countries. Different views are held in regard 
to the meaning of some of the fundamental terms used in electromagnetic 
science, and it is essential that international agreement should be obtained on 
these important questions of terminology and definition. It is therefore very 
desirable that this Committee should work in close co-operation with other 
bodies considering the same subject. 

In December 193 1 a circular was issued by the Commission on Symbols, 
Units and Nomenclature of the International Union of Physics. This 
circular, which was in the form of a questionnaire dealing with the main 
points on which diff"erences of opinion were known to exist, was sent to the 
individual members of our Committee. 

In May 1932 the British National Committee of the International Union 
of Physics convened a conference at the Royal Society to discuss proposals 
drawn up by Sir Richard Glazebrook on the basis of the replies received to 
the questionnaire. The members of our Committee were invited to attend 
and take part in this conference. Although no unanimous decisions were 
arrived at, votes were taken on the chief points of difference and by a 
majority certain recommendations were approved . These were subsequently 
discussed at an informal meeting in Paris, held in connection with the 
Electrical Congress in July 1932, preparatory to the meeting of the Inter- 
national Electrotechnical Commission which is to take place in Chicago in 

The Committee therefore ask to be reappointed. 


Report of Committee appointed to co-operate with the Torquay Natural 
History Society in investigating Kent's Cavern (Sir A. Keith, Chair- 
man ; Prof. J. L. Myres, Secretary ; Mr. M. C. Burkitt, Dr. R. V. 
Favell, Mr. G. A. Garfitt, Miss D. A. E. Garrod, Mr. Lacaille). 

The following report has been received from the excavators, Messrs. F. 
Beynon and Arthur H. Ogilvie : 

' Work was resumed on October 5, 193 1, and ceased on May 12, 1932. 

' Quarrying operations having opened a way into the North-East Gallery, 
It was decided to take the opportunity of making some examination of this 
chamber. The results, however, showed that no previous entrance had 
existed there. Apart from remains of the usual Late Pleistocene fauna, 


only one flint implement and a few flakes rewarded the search, during which 
some 5 ft. of cave earth were removed. 

' Excavation in the Sloping Chamber was therefore resumed, and was 
rewarded by the discovery, at a depth of 8 ft. below the Upper or Granular 
floor, of two fine specimens of tools — the one an ovate implement of flint, 
more probably Early Mousterian than Acheulean ; the other a typical 
Acheulean hand-axe, with twisted edges, of chert. This latter implement 
is the first certain specimen of the Acheulean period so far discovered in the 
Cavern, and completes the series of cultures represented there^Chellean, 
Acheulean, Mousterian (Early and Late), Aurignacian (Middle and Late), 
Solutrean (Early or Proto-Solutrean, and a rather later phase with primitive 
laurel leaf), and an apparently very late Magdalenian with bi-serial and uni- 
serial harpoons with trapezoidal barbs. 

' The deposit in which the Acheulean flint was found had been to some 
extent overturned, perhaps by flood water. It consisted of a mixture of the 
Late Palaeolithic cave earth, with its characteristic fauna, and the much 
earlier deposit of Grit, quite unbrecciated, which elsewhere sometimes 
contained the Chellean tools, while not many feet from the point of discovery 
MacEnery had found remains of Machairodus at the top of the deposit 
immediately under the Upper Stalagmite floor.' 

The Committee asks to be reappointed, with a small grant for the employ- 
ment of a labourer to remove excavated material after examination. 


Report of Committee (Prof. J. L. Myres, Chairman ; Mr. H. J. E. Peake, 
Secretary ; Mr. H. Balfour) appointed to co-operate with Miss 
Caton-Thompson in her researches in prehistoric sites in the Western 
Desert of Egypt. 

To continue the geological and archaeological exploration of Kharga 
Oasis, begun in 1931, Miss Caton-Thompson returned, with Miss Elinor 
W. Gardner as geologist, to examine the tufa deposits and sheets of gravel 
on the eastern scarp of the Oasis, which presented difficulties not resolved 
in the first season's work. The tufas were found to belong to at least 
three distinct geological horizons ; the last two are dated securely by tools. 
Similarly the gravels must be divided into (a) Plateau Gravels, (b) Terrace 
Gravels, (c) Wadi Gravels ; these also are all three now culturally dated. 
The conspectus of prehistory in the depression extends from Acheulean 
and Levalloisean, through late Middle Palaeolithic (pre-Sebilian), Aterian, 
and Capso-Tardenoisean to Neolithic, and all these were found in situ. 

In the scarp the oldest deposit of the ' drift ' sequence is a massive 
crystalline Plateau Tufa with reed impressions but no fauna or human 
evidence : it is provisionally placed as Plio-pleistocene. There followed 
a period of great erosion, forming longitudinal and transverse valleys, also 
without cultural evidence. Then the upper reaches of these valleys were 
filled by great accumulations of angular breccia, representing a long dry 
period, and yielding no tools so far. On the breccia filling, rainfall and 
vegetation permitted palaeolithic man to appear. Cellular Wadi Tufas 
yield plant impressions and land shells both palaearctic and tropical. These 


tufas and the Plateau Gravels of this phase yielded Acheulean tools and 
flaking sites with Acheuleo-Levalloisean industry, and were eroded and 
redistributed as Exogyra Gravels at lower levels. In decreasing rainfall, 
with formation of another Wadi Tufa, pre-Sebilian settlements follow, and 
the modern drainage system develops. As streams grew weaker, however, 
narrow channels were cut in maturer valleys with Aterian sites on their 
terraces. The region now became uninhabitable, and the Capsian and 
Capso-Tardenoisean sites, in which primitive grinders and ostrich eggshell 
beads occur, are on the Libyan Plateau. 

On the depression floor the ' fossil spring ' deposits discovered in 1931 
yielded Acheulean, Aterian, and Capso-Tardenoisean sites. 

The explorers reject the fluviatile origin proposed by Dr. Collet for 
Kharga and Dr. Sandford for the Faijoim ; they find no evidence for a 
lake at any period in Kharga, but evidence for wind-borne and spring-borne 
deposits. No dynastic remains were found prior to Twenty-seventh Dynasty, 
and only one predynastic sherd, on the scarp ; probably because the Oasis 
was already uninhabitable. Only under Persian rule did new hydraulic 
skill reach artesian water and give Kharga a second cycle of prosperity. 

While Miss Caton-Thompson remains at home to prepare her materials 
for publication Miss Gardner proposes to» continue her geological explora- 
tion in the coming season. The Committee therefore asks to be reappointed, 
with a further grant. 


Final Report of Committee on Colour Vision (Prof. Sir Charles Sherrington, 
Chairman ; Prof. H. E. Roaf, Secretary ; Dr. Mary Collins, 
Dr. F. W. Edridge-Green, Prof. H. Hartridge, Dr. J. H. Shaxby). 

For testing individuals for defects of colour vision the most practical test is 
some form of standardised lantern. The use of coloured lights is indicated 
as the signals to be recognised in railway and marine work are always coloured 

Modifying (neutral) glasses should be used so that the lights can be seen 
at different brightnesses. This is necessary, as some individuals with 
defective colour vision recognise colours by their brightness. 

The colours used should be standardised spectrophotometrically, and 
should include some limited to the extremes of the spectrum, so as to detect 
persons with subnormal sensitivity to light, particularly of the red end of 
the spectrum. 

Coloured traffic lights may be indistinguishable to colour-blind drivers. 
By giving each coloured light a distinct shape, the colour-blind should be 
able to judge by the shape. 



Final Report of Committee on the reliability of the criteria used for assessing 
the value of Vocational Tests (Prof. J. Drever, Chairman ; Mr. Eric 
Farmer, Secretary ; Dr. W. Brown, Prof. C. Burt, Dr. J. O. Irwin, 
Dr. C. S. Myers). 

Three types of criteria can be defined : 

(i) Objective criteria in which human judgment does not enter ; 
(ii) Judgments by performance which are partly objective and partly 
subjective, for they are the judgments by experts on the quality 
of work done ; 
(iii) Judgments of ability are subjective criteria, for they are the judg- 
ments concerning an individual's ability. 

There are many sources of error in each of these three criteria, but no 
one way of detecting them. A set of observations can be tested by ' Lexis' 
theory of dispersion ' to see how far it is a valid measure of individual 
differences. If the frequency distribution of a set of observations to be used 
as a criterion has a low or imaginary coefficient of disturbancy, it is an 
unsuitable measure of psychological tests. The frequency distribution of 
all criteria should be examined by this method before they are used to 
measure the value of psychological tests. When a criterion is shown to be 
unreliable the cause of its unreliability can only be discovered by observation, 
which may lead to some better criterion being formed. 

Newbold has devised a method of determining whether the frequency 
distribution of reported accidents is due wholly to factors affecting all the 
members of the group alike, or partly to individual differences in suscepti- 
bility. The recorded accidents of a group cannot be used as a criterion for 
psychological tests unless their frequency distribution is partly determined 
by individual susceptibility. 

The reliability of judgments of performance and ability can be tested 
by correlating independent judgments ; but judgments intercorrelated for 
this purpose are sometimes not truly independent, in which case their 
correlation coefficients have no value. 

A paper dealing with some of the errors in criteria and methods of 
avoiding them has been accepted for publication in the British Journal of 
Psychology. The Industrial Health Research Board has started an extensive 
investigation in which the after-careers of some 2,000 apprentices will be 
compared with their performances in scholastic and psychological tests 
given at the time of commencing their apprenticeship. 

Both the paper and the investigation are the direct outcome of the interest 
stimulated by the work of the Committee, which has thus served a useful 



Report of Committee appointed to consider and report on the provision made 
for Instruction in Botany in courses of Biology, and inatters related 
thereto (Prof. V. H. Blackman, Chairman ; Dr. E. N. M. Thomas, 
Secretary ; Prof. M. Drummond, Prof. F. E. Fritsch, Sir A. W. Hill, 
Prof. S. Maugham, Mr. J. Sager). 

Chiefly as the result of the response to two questionnaires widely 
circulated among the secondary schools, the following points emerge : 

(i) That the number of schools including the Biological Sciences in their 
curricula is increasing. 

(2) That this increase is concerned mainly with work on the animal side, 
directly in the form of Zoology, or indirectly as part of ' Biology.' 

(3) That ' Biology ' consists of a varying ratio of animal and plant study — 
approximately 45 per cent, of the schools giving it as half and half, 10-5 per 
cent, as one-third plant and two-thirds animal, and 4 per cent, as two-thirds 

(4) That ' Biology ' has replaced Botany in one-third of the schools 
reporting, and that therefore, in spite of the fact that a number of schools 
have introduced Botany during the post-war period, the study of plant life 
may be decreasing as a whole. 

(5) That the institution and substitution of ' Biology ' is largely in the 
pre-matriculation curriculum. 

(6) That the institution of Zoology courses is largely in the post- 
matriculation or Higher Certificate forms. 

(7) That the majority of these changes have taken place within the last 
five years, and that therefore their full effect has not yet been seen in 
examination and University records. 


Final Report of Committee (Mr. F. T. Brooks, Chairman; Dr. M. C. 
Rayner, Secretary ; Mr. W. H. Guillebaud). Drawn up by the 

It is considered that soil-inoculation experiments in field plots and in pot 
cultures have now provided convincing evidence of a direct causal relation 
between mycorrhiza formation (with evidence of normal functioning) and 
satisfactory growth of seedlings of three species of Pines : Scots Pine, 
Corsican Pine and Maritime Pine. 

This evidence has been rigidly tested by experiments from which the 
operation of any but the biological factors present in very small quantities 
of humus used as inocula has been excluded.^ 

On certain parts of the sowings of the Forestry Commission in the 
Ringwood and Wareham areas, especially in the latter, the young trees have 
either died outright or lingered in a moribund condition showing varying 
degrees of stunted growth. This is marked by more or less complete 
failure to form a root system or make active growth, by an unhealthy con- 
dition of such young roots as are present, and by complete or — in the case 
of stronger plants — almost complete inhibition of mycorrhiza formation. 

Apart from consequences following upon the method adopted in the 

^ No satisfactory experimental proof has ever been provided of this hypothesis, 
first put forward by Frank more than fifty years ago. Incontrovertible evidence 
concerning it was regarded as a first step in the present researches. 


original sowings, and also from those associated with the existence of local 
areas of soil toxicity probably mainly due to defective aeration, it is believed 
that the condition of the moribund and semi-moribund plants described is 
a starvation phenomenon — in large part probably one of nitrogen starvation. 

Tentative experiments with inorganic nitrogenous fertilisers have con- 
firmed the results obtained by others both in field and laboratory cultures — 
viz. that it is difficult to make good deficiencies in this way without serious 
disturbance of the root-shoot growth ratio in species of Pine. 

It is believed that on soils poor in inorganic nitrogen of this type the 
nutrient requirements of the young trees are normally made good by a 
profuse development of mycorrhiza. This view is confirmed by examination 
of the roots of Scots Pine and Maritime Pine in the area adjoining the 
plantations in question, by that of patches of young trees on the sown or 
planted areas that have made surprisingly good growth, and by the remark- 
able fact that the condition of arrested growth described can be relieved in 
the course of one growing season by induced mycorrhiza formation following 
suitable humus inoculation. 

It is not believed, however, that this treatment alone will permanently 
remove the trouble on soils where mycorrhiza formation by young trees is 
inhibited or markedly delayed. 

In the area under consideration the view has been reached that the factors 
permitting healthy mycorrhiza formation annually and, therefore, deter- 
mining healthy growth must be sought in the condition of certain organic 
constituents of the humus following upon abnormal decomposition changes. 

Attention is now focused on this aspect of the problem. Following the 
adoption of a working hypothesis, a series of experiments has been carried 
out involving the application of certain organic composts. The materials 
for these composts are of the nature of waste products. 

The treatments have been applied to experimental plots which reproduce 
certain features of the Wareham area as originally sown, and also to sowings 
on a section recently tractor-ploughed. Each connpost treatment will be 
applied in duplicate, one series compost alone, the other the same compost 
inoculated with known mycorrhiza-formers of the trees concerned, either 
from pure cultures or from humus material from a native habitat of the 
species. It may be noted that the cultivation of specific root fungi on 
composted and other organic materials has provided and is likely to continue 
to provide a number of independent and intricate problems. 

These field experiments have been duplicated in pot cultures using soil 
from the same area, and this essential part of the work could not have been 
undertaken without the provision of a suitable shelter house such as has 
been erected this summer. 

Existing experimental plots at Wareham and Ringwood are still under 
observation, and intensive study of the roots of seedling Pines from these 
plots is likely to yield interesting comparative data on the causes underlying 
inhibition of mycorrhiza formation, and interference with its normal 
structure and functioning when induced artificially by humus treatments of 
the soil. 

Humus inoculation of exotic Pine species. — This aspect of the work was 
considered in the report presented at the London meeting in 193 1. It 
raises a matter of considerable practical importance involving the desirability 
or otherwise of applying appropriate humus treatments to seedlings in the 
nursery stage. The experimental data now available in respect to Corsican 
Pine and Maritime Pine at Wareham and elsewhere may be summarised as 
follows : 

(i) The addition to seed-beds of small quantities of the appropriate humus 
in the right condition produces a markedly beneficial effect upon the seed- 


lings raised in them. At the end of a year's growth these have larger shoots 
with longer needles than those of controls raised in the same compost lacking 
humus treatment, and give evidence of more vigorous growth, especially 
towards the end of the season. The root systems are remarkably different : 
those of controls poorly branched with scanty development of sub-lateral 
roots ; those of treated seedlings well branched with abundant sub-laterals, 
all of which become mycorrhizas. The beneficial effect upon gro\yth 
continues during the second year : treated seedlings start growth earlier, 
have longer needles and grow more vigorously. 

These beneficent effects are evidently due to developmental changes 
controlled by factors operating within comparatively narrow limits since 
they are readily influenced by variation in the experimental treatment, as, 
for example, the date of sowing. They are well marked in seedlings from 
sowings up to the end of May, but diminish in those from later sowings. In 
July sowings there is an improvement in the root systems, but mycorrhiza 
is not formed during the first year, and improved growth of the shoot is not 

(2) It is evident that the improved growth observed depends upon 
biological causes of a reciprocal kind. Thus, seedlings of Corsican Pine and 
Maritime Pine raised on Wareham soil without treatment are already in an 
unthrifty condition at the end of one year's growth. Such seedlings do not 
benefit from appropriate humus treatment in the spring of the second year. 
Whether they may do so eventually is a matter of some biological interest, 
but is clearly not one of practical importance. In general, it is clear that 
the effects produced vary directly with the technique used. It is, therefore, 
important that a suitable technique should be devised in using methods of 
humus inoculation for promoting mycorrhiza formation. 

These facts provide a clue to the irregular and